A Literary History of the Arabs
CHAPTER IX
THE ARABS IN EUROPE
It will be remembered that before the end of the first century of the Hijra, in the reign of the Umayyad Caliph, Walíd b. ‘Abd al-Malik (705-715 A.D.), the Moslems under Ṭáriq and Músá b. Nuṣayr, crossed the Mediterranean, and having defeated Roderic the Goth in a great battle near Cadiz, rapidly brought the whole of Spain into subjection. The fate of the new province was long doubtful. The Berber insurrection which raged in Africa (734-742 A.D.) spread to Spain and threatened to exterminate the handful of Arab colonists; and no sooner was this danger past than the victors began to rekindle the old feuds and jealousies which they had inherited from their ancestors of Qays and Kalb. Once more the rival factions of Syria and Yemen flew to arms, and the land was plunged in anarchy.
[Sidenote: ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán, the Umayyad.]
Meanwhile ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán b. Mu‘áwiya, a grandson of the Caliph Hishám, had escaped from the general massacre with which the ‘Abbásids celebrated their triumph over the House of Umayya, and after five years of wandering adventure, accompanied only by his faithful freedman, Badr, had reached the neighbourhood of Ceuta, where he found a precarious shelter with the Berber tribes. Young, ambitious, and full of confidence in his destiny, ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán conceived the bold plan of throwing himself into Spain and of winning a kingdom with the help of the Arabs, amongst whom, as he well knew, there were many clients of his own family. Accordingly in 755 A.D. he sent Badr across the sea on a secret mission. The envoy accomplished even more than was expected of him. To gain over the clients was easy, for ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán was their natural chief, and in the event of his success they would share with him the prize. Their number, however, was comparatively small. The pretender could not hope to achieve anything unless he were supported by one of the great parties, Syrians or Yemenites. At this time the former, led by the feeble governor, Yúsuf b. ‘Abd al-Raḥmán al-Fihrí, and his cruel but capable lieutenant, Ṣumayl b. Ḥátim, held the reins of power and were pursuing their adversaries with ruthless ferocity. The Yemenites, therefore, hastened to range themselves on the side of ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán, not that they loved his cause, but inspired solely by the prospect of taking a bloody vengeance upon the Syrians. These Spanish Moslems belonged to the true Bedouin stock!
A few months later ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán landed in Spain, occupied Seville, and, routing Yúsuf and Ṣumayl under the walls of Cordova, made himself master of the capital. On the same evening he presided, as Governor of Spain, over the citizens assembled for public worship in the great Mosque (May, 756 A.D.).
During his long reign of thirty-two years ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán was busily employed in defending and consolidating the empire which more than once seemed to be on the point of slipping from his grasp. The task before him was arduous in the extreme. On the one hand, he was confronted by the unruly Arab aristocracy, jealous of their independence and regarding the monarch as their common foe. Between him and them no permanent compromise was possible, and since they could only be kept in check by an armed force stronger than themselves, he was compelled to rely on mercenaries, for the most part Berbers imported from Africa. Thus, by a fatal necessity the Moslem Empire in the West gradually assumed that despotic and Prætorian character which we have learned to associate with the ‘Abbásid Government in the period of its decline, and the results were in the end hardly less disastrous. The monarchy had also to reckon with the fanaticism of its Christian subjects and with a formidable Spanish national party eager to throw off the foreign yoke. Extraordinary energy and tact were needed to maintain authority over these explosive elements, and if the dynasty founded by ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán not only survived for two centuries and a half but gave to Spain a more splendid era of prosperity and culture than she had ever enjoyed, the credit is mainly due to the bold adventurer from whom even his enemies could not withhold a tribute of admiration. One day, it is said, the Caliph Manṣúr asked his courtiers, "Who is the Falcon of Quraysh?" They replied, "O Prince of the Faithful, that title belongs to you who have vanquished mighty kings and have put an end to civil war." "No," said the Caliph, "it is not I." "Mu‘áwiya, then, or ‘Abdu ’l-Malik?" "No," said Manṣúr, "the Falcon of Quraysh is ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán b. Mu‘áwiya, he who traversed alone the deserts of Asia and Africa, and without an army to aid him sought his fortune in an unknown country beyond the sea. With no weapons except judgment and resolution he subdued his enemies, crushed the rebels, secured his frontiers, and founded a great empire. Such a feat was never achieved by any one before."[759]
[Sidenote: Islam in Spain.]
[Sidenote: Yaḥyá b. Yaḥyá.]
[Sidenote: The Revolt of the Suburb.]
Of the Moslems in Spain the Arabs formed only a small minority, and they, moreover, showed all the indifference towards religion and contempt for the laws of Islam which might be expected from men imbued with Bedouin traditions whose forbears had been devotedly attached to the world-loving Umayyads of Damascus. It was otherwise with the Spanish converts, the so-called 'Renegades' or _Muwalladún_ (Affiliati) living as clients under protection of the Arab nobility, and with the Berbers. These races took their adopted religion very seriously, in accordance with the fervid and sombre temperament which has always distinguished them. Hence among the mass of Spanish Moslems a rigorous orthodoxy prevailed. The Berber, Yaḥyá b. Yaḥyá († 849 A.D.), is a typical figure. At the age of twenty-eight years he travelled to the East and studied under Málik. b Anas, who dictated to him his celebrated work known as the _Muwaṭṭa’_. Yaḥyá was one day at Málik's lecture with a number of fellow-students, when some one said, "Here comes the elephant!" All of them ran out to see the animal, but Yaḥyá did not stir. "Why," said Málik, "do you not go out and look at it? Such animals are not to be seen in Spain." To this Yaḥyá replied, "I left my country for the purpose of seeing you and obtaining knowledge under your guidance. I did not come here to see the elephant." Málik was so pleased with this answer that he called him the most intelligent (_‘áqil_) of the people of Spain. On his return to Spain Yaḥyá exerted himself to spread the doctrines of his master, and though he obstinately refused, on religious grounds, to accept any public office, his influence and reputation were such that, as Ibn Ḥazm says, no Cadi was ever appointed till Yaḥyá had given his opinion and designated the person whom he preferred.[760] Thus the Málikite system, based on close adherence to tradition, became the law of the land. "The Spaniards," it is observed by a learned writer of the tenth century, "recognise only the Koran and the _Muwaṭṭa’_; if they find a follower of Abú Ḥanífa or Sháfi‘í, they banish him from Spain, and if they meet with a Mu‘tazilite or a Shí‘ite or any one of that sort, they often put him to death."[761] Arrogant, intensely bigoted, and ambitious of power, the Muḥammadan clergy were not disposed to play a subordinate rôle in the State. In Hishám (788-796 A.D.), the successor of ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán, they had a prince after their own heart, whose piety and devotion to their interests left nothing to be desired. Ḥakam (796-822 A.D.) was less complaisant. He honoured and respected the clergy, but at the same time he let them see that he would not permit them to interfere in political affairs. The malcontents, headed by the fiery Yaḥyá b. Yaḥyá, replied with menaces and insults, and called on the populace of Cordova--especially the 'Renegades' in the southern quarter (_rabaḍ_) of the city--to rise against the tyrant and his insolent soldiery. One day in Ramaḍán, 198 A.H. (May, 814 A.D.), Ḥakam suddenly found himself cut off from the garrison and besieged in his palace by an infuriated mob, but he did not lose courage, and, thanks to his coolness and skilful strategy, he came safely out of the peril in which he stood. The revolutionary suburb was burned to the ground and those of its inhabitants who escaped massacre, some 60,000 souls, were driven into exile. The real culprits went unpunished. Ḥakam could not afford further to exasperate the divines, who on their part began to perceive that they might obtain from the prince by favour what they had failed to wring from him by force. Being mostly Arabs or Berbers, they had a strong claim to his consideration. Their power was soon restored, and in the reign of ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán II (822-852 A.D.) Yaḥyá himself, the ringleader of the mutiny, directed ecclesiastical policy and dispensed judicial patronage as he pleased.
[Sidenote: ‘Umar b. Ḥafṣún.]
The Revolt of the Suburb was only an episode in the long and sanguinary struggle between the Spaniards, Moslem or Christian, on the one hand, and the monarchy of Cordova on the other--a struggle complicated by the rival Arab tribes, which sometimes patched up their own feuds in order to defend themselves against the Spanish patriots, but never in any circumstances gave their support to the detested Umayyad Government. The hero of this war of independence was ‘Umar b. Ḥafṣún. He belonged to a noble family of West-Gothic origin which had gone over to Islam and settled in the mountainous district north-east of Malaga. Hot-blooded, quarrelsome, and ready to stab on the slightest provocation, the young man soon fell into trouble. At first he took shelter in the wild fastnesses of Ronda, where he lived as a brigand until he was captured by the police. He then crossed the sea to Africa, but in a short time returned to his old haunts and put himself at the head of a band of robbers. Here he held out for two years, when, having been obliged to surrender, he accepted the proposal of the Sultan of Cordova that he and his companions should enlist in the Imperial army. But ‘Umar was destined for greater glory than the Sultan could confer upon him. A few contemptuous words from a superior officer touched his pride to the quick, so one fine day he galloped off with all his men in the direction of Ronda. They found an almost impregnable retreat in the castle of Bobastro, which had once been a Roman fortress. From this moment, says Dozy, ‘Umar b. Ḥafṣún was no longer a brigand-chief, but leader of the whole Spanish race in the south. The lawless and petulant free-lance was transformed into a high-minded patriot, celebrated for the stern justice with which he punished the least act of violence, adored by his soldiers, and regarded by his countrymen as the champion of the national cause. During the rest of his life (884-917 A.D.) he conducted the guerilla with untiring energy and made himself a terror to the Arabs, but fortune deserted him at the last, and he died--_felix opportunitate mortis_--only a few years before complete ruin overtook his party. The Moslem Spaniards, whose enthusiasm had been sensibly weakened by their leader's conversion to Christianity, were the more anxious to make their peace with the Government, since they saw plainly the hopelessness of continuing the struggle.
In 912 A.D. ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán III, the Defender of the Faith (_al-Náṣir li-díní ’lláh_), succeeded his grandfather, the Amír ‘Abdulláh, on the throne of Cordova. The character, genius, and enterprise of this great monarch are strikingly depicted in the following passage from the pen of an eloquent historian whose work, although it was published some fifty years ago, will always be authoritative[762]:--
[Sidenote: ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán III (912-961 A.D).]
"Amongst the Umayyad sovereigns who have ruled Spain the first place belongs incontestably to ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán III. What he accomplished was almost miraculous. He had found the empire abandoned to anarchy and civil war, rent by factions, parcelled amongst a multitude of heterogeneous princes, exposed to incessant attacks from the Christians of the north, and on the eve of being swallowed up either by the Léonnese or the Africans. In spite of innumerable obstacles he had saved Spain both from herself and from the foreign domination. He had endowed her with new life and made her greater and stronger than she had ever been. He had given her order and prosperity at home, consideration and respect abroad. The public treasury, which he had found in a deplorable condition, was now overflowing. Of the Imperial revenues, which amounted annually to 6,245,000 pieces of gold, a third sufficed for ordinary expenses; a third was held in reserve, and ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán devoted the remainder to his buildings. It was calculated that in the year 951 he had in his coffers the enormous sum of 20,000,000 pieces of gold, so that a traveller not without judgment in matters of finance assures us that ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán and the Ḥamdánid (Náṣiru ’l-Dawla), who was then reigning over Mesopotamia, were the wealthiest princes of that epoch. The state of the country was in keeping with the prosperous condition of the treasury. Agriculture, industry, commerce, the arts and the sciences, all flourished.... Cordova, with its half-million inhabitants, its three thousand mosques, its superb palaces, its hundred and thirteen thousand houses, its three hundred bagnios, and its twenty-eight suburbs, was inferior in extent and splendour only to Baghdád, with which city the Cordovans loved to compare it.... The power of ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán was formidable. A magnificent fleet enabled him to dispute with the Fáṭimids the empire of the Mediterranean, and secured him in the possession of Ceuta, the key of Mauritania. A numerous and well-disciplined army, perhaps the finest in the world, gave him superiority over the Christians of the north. The proudest sovereigns solicited his alliance. The emperor of Constantinople, the kings of Germany, Italy, and France sent ambassadors to him.
"Assuredly, these were brilliant results; but what excites our astonishment and admiration when we study this glorious reign is not so much the work as the workman: it is the might of that comprehensive intelligence which nothing escaped, and which showed itself no less admirable in the minutest details than in the loftiest conceptions. This subtle and sagacious man, who centralises, who founds the unity of the nation and of the monarchy, who by means of his alliances establishes a sort of political equilibrium, who in his large tolerance calls the professors of another religion into his councils, is a modern king rather than a mediæval Caliph."[763]
[Sidenote: Regency of Manṣúr Ibn Abí ‘Ámir (976-1002 A.D.).]
In short, ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán III made the Spanish Moslems one people, and formed out of Arabs and Spaniards a united Andalusian nation, which, as we shall presently see, advanced with incredible swiftness to a height of culture that was the envy of Europe and was not exceeded by any contemporary State in the Muḥammadan East. With his death, however, the decline of the Umayyad dynasty began. His son, Ḥakam II († 976 A.D.), left as heir-apparent a boy eleven years old, Hishám II, who received the title of Caliph while the government was carried on by his mother Aurora and the ambitious minister Muḥammad b. Abí ‘Ámir. The latter was virtually monarch of Spain, and whatever may be thought of the means by which he rose to eminence, or of his treatment of the unfortunate Caliph whose mental faculties he deliberately stunted and whom he condemned to a life of monkish seclusion, it is impossible to deny that he ruled well and nobly. He was a great statesman and a great soldier. No one could accuse him of making an idle boast when he named himself 'Al-Manṣúr' ('The Victorious'). Twice every year he was accustomed to lead his army against the Christians, and such was the panic which he inspired that in the course of more than fifty campaigns he scarcely ever lost a battle. He died in 1002 A.D. A Christian monk, recording the event in his chronicle, adds, "he was buried in Hell," but Moslem hands engraved the following lines upon the tomb of their champion:--
"His story in his relics you may trace, As tho' he stood before you face to face. Never will Time bring forth his peer again, Nor one to guard, like him, the gaps of Spain."[764]
His demise left the Prætorians masters of the situation. Berbers and Slaves[765] divided the kingdom between them, and amidst revolution and civil war the Umayyad dynasty passed away (1031 A.D.).
[Sidenote: The Party Kings (_Mulúku ’l-Ṭawá’if_).]
It has been said with truth that the history of Spain in the eleventh century bears a close resemblance to that of Italy in the fifteenth. The splendid empire of ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán III was broken up, and from its ruins there emerged a fortuitous conglomeration of petty states governed by successful condottieri. Of these Party Kings (_Mulúku ’l-Ṭawá’if_), as they are called by Muḥammadan writers, the most powerful were the ‘Abbádids of Seville. Although it was an age of political decay, the material prosperity of Spain had as yet suffered little diminution, whilst in point of culture the society of this time reached a level hitherto unequalled. Here, then, we may pause for a moment to review the progress of literature and science during the most fruitful period of the Moslem occupation of European soil.
[Sidenote: Influence of Arabic culture on the Spaniards.]
Whilst in Asia, as we have seen, the Arab conquerors yielded to the spell of an ancient culture infinitely superior to their own, they no sooner crossed the Straits of Gibraltar than the rôles were reversed. As the invaders extended their conquests to every part of the peninsula, thousands of Christians fell into their hands, who generally continued to live under Moslem protection. They were well treated by the Government, enjoyed religious liberty, and often rose to high offices in the army or at court. Many of them became rapidly imbued with Moslem civilisation, so that as early as the middle of the ninth century we find Alvaro, Bishop of Cordova, complaining that his co-religionists read the poems and romances of the Arabs, and studied the writings of Muḥammadan theologians and philosophers, not in order to refute them but to learn how to express themselves in Arabic with correctness and elegance. "Where," he asks, "can any one meet nowadays with a layman who reads the Latin commentaries on the Holy Scriptures? Who studies the Gospels, the Prophets, the Apostles? Alas, all young Christians of conspicuous talents are acquainted only with the language and writings of the Arabs; they read and study Arabic books with the utmost zeal, spend immense sums of money in collecting them for their libraries, and proclaim everywhere that this literature is admirable. On the other hand, if you talk with them of Christian books, they reply contemptuously that these books are not worth their notice. Alas, the Christians have forgotten their own language, and amongst thousands of us scarce one is to be found who can write a tolerable Latin letter to a friend; whereas very many are capable of expressing themselves exquisitely in Arabic and of composing poems in that tongue with even greater skill than the Arabs themselves."[766]
However the good bishop may have exaggerated, it is evident that Muḥammadan culture had a strong attraction for the Spanish Christians, and equally, let us add, for the Jews, who made numerous contributions to poetry, philosophy, and science in their native speech as well as in the kindred Arabic idiom. The 'Renegades,' or Spanish converts to Islam, became completely Arabicised in the course of a few generations; and from this class sprang some of the chief ornaments of Spanish-Arabian literature.
[Sidenote: The poetry of the Spanish Arabs.]
Considered as a whole, the poetry of the Moslems in Europe shows the same characteristics which have already been noted in the work of their Eastern contemporaries. The paralysing conventions from which the laureates of Baghdád and Aleppo could not emancipate themselves remained in full force at Cordova and Seville. Yet, just as Arabic poetry in the East was modified by the influences of Persian culture, in Spain also the gradual amalgamation of Aryans with Semites introduced new elements which have left their mark on the literature of both races. Perhaps the most interesting features of Spanish-Arabian poetry are the tenderly romantic feeling which not infrequently appears in the love-songs, a feeling that sometimes anticipates the attitude of mediæval chivalry; and in the second place an almost modern sensibility to the beauties of nature. On account of these characteristics the poems in question appeal to many European readers who do not easily enter into the spirit of the _Mu‘allaqát_ or the odes of Mutanabbí, and if space allowed it would be a pleasant task to translate some of the charming lyric and descriptive pieces which have been collected by anthologists. The omission, however, is less grave inasmuch as Von Schack has given us a series of excellent versions in his _Poesie und Kunst der Araber in Spanien und Sicilien_ (2nd ed., Stuttgart, 1877).
[Sidenote: Folk-songs.]
"One of its marvels," says Qazwíní, referring to the town of Shilb (Silves) in Portugal, "is the fact, which innumerable persons have mentioned, that the people living there, with few exceptions, are makers of verse and devoted to belles-lettres; and if you passed by a labourer standing behind his plough and asked him to recite some verses, he would at once improvise on any subject that you might demand."[767] Of such folk-songs the _zajal_ and _muwashshaḥ_ were favourite types.[768] Both forms were invented in Spain, and their structure is very similar, consisting of several stanzas in which the rhymes are so arranged that the master-rhyme ending each stanza and running through the whole poem like a refrain is continually interrupted by a various succession of subordinate rhymes, as is shown in the following scheme:--
_aa_ _bbba_ _ccca_ _ddda._
Many of these songs and ballads were composed in the vulgar dialect and without regard to the rules of classical prosody. The troubadour Ibn Quzmán († 1160 A.D.) first raised the _zajal_ to literary rank. Here is an example of the _muwashshaḥ_:--
"Come, hand the precious cup to me, And brim it high with a golden sea! Let the old wine circle from guest to guest, While the bubbles gleam like pearls on its breast, So that night is of darkness dispossessed. How it foams and twinkles in fiery glee! 'Tis drawn from the Pleiads' cluster, perdie.
Pass it, to music's melting sound, Here on this flowery carpet round, Where gentle dews refresh the ground And bathe my limbs deliciously In their cool and balmy fragrancy.
Alone with me in the garden green A singing-girl enchants the scene: Her smile diffuses a radiant sheen. I cast off shame, for no spy can see, And 'Hola,' I cry, 'let us merry be!'"[769]
[Sidenote: Verses by ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán I.]
True to the traditions of their family, the Spanish Umayyads loved poetry, music, and polite literature a great deal better than the Koran. Even the Falcon of Quraysh, ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán I, if the famous verses on the Palm-tree are really by him, concealed something of the softer graces under his grim exterior. It is said that in his gardens at Cordova there was a solitary date-palm, which had been transplanted from Syria, and that one day ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán, as he gazed upon it, remembered his native land and felt the bitterness of exile and exclaimed:--
"O Palm, thou art a stranger in the West, Far from thy Orient home, like me unblest. Weep! But thou canst not. Dumb, dejected tree, Thou art not made to sympathise with me. Ah, thou wouldst weep, if thou hadst tears to pour, For thy companions on Euphrates' shore; But yonder tall groves thou rememberest not, As I, in hating foes, have my old friends forgot."[770]
[Sidenote: Ziryáb the musician.]
At the court of ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán II (822-852 A.D.) a Persian musician was prime favourite. This was Ziryáb, a client of the Caliph Mahdí and a pupil of the celebrated singer, Isḥáq al-Mawṣilí.[771] Isḥáq, seeing in the young man a dangerous rival to himself, persuaded him to quit Baghdád and seek his fortune in Spain. ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán received him with open arms, gave him a magnificent house and princely salary, and bestowed upon him every mark of honour imaginable. The versatile and accomplished artist wielded a vast influence. He set the fashion in all things appertaining to taste and manners; he fixed the toilette, sanctioned the cuisine, and prescribed what dress should be worn in the different seasons of the year. The kings of Spain took him as a model, and his authority was constantly invoked and universally recognised in that country down to the last days of Moslem rule.[772] Ziryáb was only one of many talented and learned men who came to Spain from the East, while the list of Spanish savants who journeyed "in quest of knowledge" (_fí ṭalabi ’l-‘ilm_) to Africa and Egypt, to the Holy Cities of Arabia, to the great capitals of Syria and ‘Iráq, to Khurásán, Transoxania, and in some cases even to China, includes, as may be seen from the perusal of Maqqarí's fifth chapter, nearly all the eminent scholars and men of letters whom Moslem Spain has produced. Thus a lively exchange of ideas was continually in movement, and so little provincialism existed that famous Andalusian poets, like Ibn Hání and Ibn Zaydún, are described by admiring Eastern critics as the Buḥturís and Mutanabbís of the West.
[Sidenote: The Library of Ḥakam II.]
The tenth century of the Christian era is a fortunate and illustrious period in Spanish history. Under ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán III and his successor, Ḥakam II, the nation, hitherto torn asunder by civil war, bent its united energies to the advancement of material and intellectual culture. Ḥakam was an enthusiastic bibliophile. He sent his agents in every direction to purchase manuscripts, and collected 400,000 volumes in his palace, which was thronged with librarians, copyists, and bookbinders. All these books, we are told, he had himself read, and he annotated most of them with his own hand. His munificence to scholars knew no bounds. He made a present of 1,000 dínárs to Abu ’l-Faraj of Iṣfahán, in order to secure the first copy that was published of the great 'Book of Songs' (_Kitábu ’l-Aghání_), on which the author was then engaged. Besides honouring and encouraging the learned, Ḥakam took measures to spread the benefits of education amongst the poorest of his subjects. With this view he founded twenty-seven free schools in the capital and paid the teachers out of his private purse. Whilst in Christian Europe the rudiments of learning were confined to the clergy, in Spain almost every one could read and write.
[Sidenote: The University of Cordova.]
"The University of Cordova was at that time one of the most celebrated in the world. In the principal Mosque, where the lectures were held, Abú Bakr b. Mu‘áwiya, the Qurayshite, discussed the Traditions relating to Muḥammad. Abú ‘Alí al-Qálí of Baghdád dictated a large and excellent miscellany which contained an immense quantity of curious information concerning the ancient Arabs, their proverbs, their language, and their poetry. This collection he afterwards published under the title of _Amálí_, or 'Dictations.' Grammar was taught by Ibnu ’l-Qúṭiyya, who, in the opinion of Abú ‘Ali al-Qálí, was the leading grammarian of Spain. Other sciences had representatives no less renowned. Accordingly the students attending the classes were reckoned by thousands. The majority were students of what was called _fiqh_, that is to say, theology and law, for that science then opened the way to the most lucrative posts."[773]
Among the notable savants of this epoch we may mention Ibn ‘Abdi Rabbihi († 940 A.D.), laureate of ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán III and author of a well-known anthology entitled _al-‘Iqd al-Faríd_; the poet Ibn Hání of Seville († 973 A.D.), an Ismá‘ílí convert who addressed blasphemous panegyrics to the Fáṭimid Caliph Mu‘izz;[774] the historians of Spain, Abú Bakr al-Rází († 937 A.D.), whose family belonged to Rayy in Persia, and Ibnu ’l-Qúṭiyya († 977 A.D.), who, as his name indicates, was the descendant of a Gothic princess; the astronomer and mathematician Maslama b. Aḥmad of Madrid († 1007 A.D.); and the great surgeon Abu ’l-Qásim al-Zahráwí of Cordova, who died about the same time, and who became known to Europe by the name of Albucasis.
[Sidenote: The ‘Abbádids (1023-1091 A.D.).]
[Sidenote: Mu‘tamid of Seville (1069-1091 A.D.).]
The fall of the Spanish Umayyads, which took place in the first half of the eleventh century, left Cordova a republic and a merely provincial town; and though she might still claim to be regarded as the literary metropolis of Spain, her ancient glories were overshadowed by the independent dynasties which now begin to flourish in Seville, Almeria, Badajoz, Granada, Toledo, Malaga, Valencia, and other cities. Of these rival princedoms the most formidable in arms and the most brilliant in its cultivation of the arts was, beyond question, the family of the ‘Abbádids, who reigned in Seville. The foundations of their power were laid by the Cadi Abu ’l-Qásim Muḥammad. "He acted towards the people with such justice and moderation as drew on him the attention of every eye and the love of every heart," so that the office of chief magistrate was willingly conceded to him. In order to obtain the monarchy which he coveted, the Cadi employed an audacious ruse. The last Umayyad Caliph, Hishám II, had vanished mysteriously: it was generally supposed that, after escaping from Cordova when that city was stormed by the Berbers (1013 A.D.), he fled to Asia and died unknown; but many believed that he was still alive. Twenty years after his disappearance there suddenly arose a pretender, named Khalaf, who gave out that he was the Caliph Hishám. The likeness between them was strong enough to make the imposture plausible. At any rate, the Cadi had his own reasons for abetting it. He called on the people, who were deeply attached to the Umayyad dynasty, to rally round their legitimate sovereign. Cordova and several other States recognised the authority of this pseudo-Caliph, whom Abu ’l-Qásim used as a catspaw. His son ‘Abbád, a treacherous and bloodthirsty tyrant, but an amateur of belles-lettres, threw off the mask and reigned under the title of al-Mu‘taḍid (1042-1069 A.D.). He in turn was succeeded by his son, al-Mu‘tamid, whose strange and romantic history reminds one of a sentence frequently occurring in the _Arabian Nights_: "Were it graven with needle-gravers upon the eye-corners, it were a warner to whoso would be warned." He is described as "the most liberal, the most hospitable, the most munificent, and the most powerful of all the princes who ruled in Spain. His court was the halting-place of travellers, the rendezvous of poets, the point to which all hopes were directed, and the haunt of men of talent."[775] Mu‘tamid himself was a poet of rare distinction. "He left," says Ibn Bassám, "some pieces of verse beautiful as the bud when it opens to disclose the flower; and had the like been composed by persons who made of poetry a profession and a merchandise, they would still have been considered charming, admirable, and singularly original."[776] Numberless anecdotes are told of Mu‘tamid's luxurious life at Seville: his evening rambles along the banks of the Guadalquivir; his parties of pleasure; his adventures when he sallied forth in disguise, accompanied by his Vizier, the poet Ibn ‘Ammár, into the streets of the sleeping city; and his passion for the slave-girl I‘timád, commonly known as Rumaykiyya, whom he loved all his life with constant devotion.
Meanwhile, however, a terrible catastrophe was approaching. The causes which led up to it are related by Ibn Khallikán as follows[777]:--
[Sidenote: The Almoravides in Spain.]
[Sidenote: Battle of Zalláqa (October 23, 1086 A.D.).]
"At that time Alphonso VI, the son of Ferdinand, the sovereign of Castile and king of the Spanish Franks, had become so powerful that the petty Moslem princes were obliged to make peace with him and pay him tribute. Mu‘tamid Ibn ‘Abbád surpassed all the rest in greatness of power and extent of empire, yet he also paid tribute to Alphonso. After capturing Toledo (May 29, 1085 A.D.) the Christian monarch sent him a threatening message with the demand that he should surrender his fortresses; on which condition he might retain the open country as his own. These words provoked Mu‘tamid to such a degree that he struck the ambassador and put to death all those who accompanied him.[778] Alphonso, who was marching on Cordova, no sooner received intelligence of this event than he returned to Toledo in order to provide machines for the siege of Seville. When the Shaykhs and doctors of Islam were informed of this project they assembled and said: 'Behold how the Moslem cities fall into the hands of the Franks whilst our sovereigns are engaged in warfare against each other! If things continue in this state the Franks will subdue the entire country.' They then went to the Cadi (of Cordova), ‘Abdulláh b. Muḥammad b. Adham, and conferred with him on the disasters which had befallen the Moslems and on the means by which they might be remedied. Every person had something to say, but it was finally resolved that they should write to Abú Ya‘qúb Yúsuf b. Táshifín, the king of the _Mulaththamún_[779] and sovereign of Morocco, imploring his assistance. The Cadi then waited on Mu‘tamid, and informed him of what had passed. Mu‘tamid concurred with them on the expediency of such an application, and told the Cadi to bear the message himself to Yúsuf b. Táshifín. A conference took place at Ceuta. Yúsuf recalled from the city of Morocco the troops which he had left there, and when all were mustered he sent them across to Spain, and followed with a body of 10,000 men. Mu‘tamid, who had also assembled an army, went to meet him; and the Moslems, on hearing the news, hastened from every province for the purpose of combating the infidels. Alphonso, who was then at Toledo, took the field with 40,000 horse, exclusive of other troops which came to join him. He wrote a long and threatening letter to Yúsuf b. Táshifín, who inscribed on the back of it these words: '_What will happen thou shalt see!_' and returned it. On reading the answer Alphonso was filled with apprehension, and observed that this was a man of resolution. The two armies met at Zalláqa, near Badajoz. The Moslems gained the victory, and Alphonso fled with a few others, after witnessing the complete destruction of his army. This year was adopted in Spain as the commencement of a new era, and was called the year of Zalláqa."
[Sidenote: Captivity and death of Mu‘tamid.]
Mu‘tamid soon perceived that he had "dug his own grave"--to quote the words used by himself a few years afterwards--when he sought aid from the perfidious Almoravide. Yúsuf could not but contrast the beauty, riches, and magnificent resources of Spain with the barren deserts and rude civilisation of Africa. He was not content to admire at a distance the enchanting view which had been dangled before him. In the following year he returned to Spain and took possession of Granada. He next proceeded to pick a quarrel with Mu‘tamid. The Berber army laid siege to Seville, and although Mu‘tamid displayed the utmost bravery, he was unable to prevent the fall of his capital (September, 1091 A.D.). The unfortunate prince was thrown into chains and transported to Morocco. Yúsuf spared his life, but kept him a prisoner at Aghmát, where he died in 1095 A.D. During his captivity he bewailed in touching poems the misery of his state, the sufferings which he and his family had to endure, and the tragic doom which suddenly deprived him of friends, fortune, and power. "Every one loves Mu‘tamid," wrote an historian of the thirteenth century, "every one pities him, and even now he is lamented."[780] He deserved no less, for, as Dozy remarks, he was "the last Spanish-born king (_le dernier roi indigène_), who represented worthily, nay, brilliantly, a nationality and culture which succumbed, or barely survived, under the dominion of barbarian invaders."[781]
[Sidenote: Ibn Zaydún.]
The Age of the Tyrants, to borrow from Greek history a designation which well describes the character of this period, yields to no other in literary and scientific renown. Poetry was cultivated at every Andalusian court. If Seville could point with just pride to Mu‘tamid and his Vizier, Ibn ‘Ammár, Cordova claimed a second pair almost equally illustrious--Ibn Zaydún (1003-1071 A.D.) and Walláda, a daughter of the Umayyad Caliph al-Mustakfí. Ibn Zaydún entered upon a political career and became the confidential agent of Ibn Jahwar, the chief magistrate of Cordova, but he fell into disgrace, probably on account of his love for the beautiful and talented princess, who inspired those tender melodies which have caused the poet's European biographers to link his name with Tibullus and Petrarch. In the hope of seeing her, although he durst not show himself openly, he lingered in al-Zahrá, the royal suburb of Cordova built by ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán III. At last, after many wanderings, he found a home at Seville, where he was cordially received by Mu‘taḍid, who treated him as an intimate friend and bestowed on him the title of _Dhu ’l-Wizáratayn_.[782] The following verses, which he addressed to Walláda, depict the lovely scenery of al-Zahrá and may serve to illustrate the deep feeling for nature which, as has been said, is characteristic of Spanish-Arabian poetry in general.[783]
"To-day my longing thoughts recall thee here; The landscape glitters, and the sky is clear. So feebly breathes the gentle zephyr's gale, In pity of my grief it seems to fail. The silvery fountains laugh, as from a girl's Fair throat a broken necklace sheds its pearls. Oh, 'tis a day like those of our sweet prime, When, stealing pleasures from indulgent Time, We played midst flowers of eye-bewitching hue, That bent their heads beneath the drops of dew. Alas, they see me now bereaved of sleep; They share my passion and with me they weep. Here in her sunny haunt the rose blooms bright, Adding new lustre to Aurora's light; And waked by morning beams, yet languid still, The rival lotus doth his perfume spill. All stirs in me the memory of that fire Which in my tortured breast will ne'er expire. Had death come ere we parted, it had been The best of all days in the world, I ween; And this poor heart, where thou art every thing, Would not be fluttering now on passion's wing. Ah, might the zephyr waft me tenderly, Worn out with anguish as I am, to thee! O treasure mine, if lover e'er possessed A treasure! O thou dearest, queenliest! Once, once, we paid the debt of love complete And ran an equal race with eager feet. How true, how blameless was the love I bore, Thou hast forgotten; but I still adore!"
[Sidenote: Ibn Ḥazm (994-1064 A.D.).]
The greatest scholar and the most original genius of Moslem Spain is Abú Muḥammad ‘Alí Ibn Ḥazm, who was born at Cordova in 994 A.D. He came of a 'Renegade' family, but he was so far from honouring his Christian ancestors that he pretended to trace his descent to a Persian freedman of Yazíd b. Abí Sufyán, a brother of the first Umayyad Caliph, Mu‘áwiya; and his contempt for Christianity was in proportion to his fanatical zeal on behalf of Islam. His father, Aḥmad, had filled the office of Vizier under Manṣúr Ibn Abí ‘Ámir, and Ibn Ḥazm himself plunged ardently into politics as a client--through his false pedigree--of the Umayyad House, to which he was devotedly attached. Before the age of thirty he became prime minister of ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán V (1023-1024 A.D.), but on the fall of the Umayyad Government he retired from public life and gave himself wholly to literature. Ibn Bashkuwál, author of a well-known biographical dictionary of Spanish celebrities entitled _al-Ṣila fí akhbári a’immati ’l-Andalus_, speaks of him in these terms: "Of all the natives of Spain Ibn Ḥazm was the most eminent by the universality and the depth of his learning in the sciences cultivated by the Moslems; add to this his profound acquaintance with the Arabic tongue, and his vast abilities as an elegant writer, a poet, a biographer, and an historian; his son possessed about 400 volumes, containing nearly 80,000 leaves, which Ibn Ḥazm had composed and written out."[784] It is recorded that he said, "My only desire in seeking knowledge was to attain a high scientific rank in this world and the next."[785] He got little encouragement from his contemporaries. The mere fact that he belonged to the Ẓáhirite school of theology would not have mattered, but the caustic style in which he attacked the most venerable religious authorities of Islam aroused such bitter hostility that he was virtually excommunicated by the orthodox divines. People were warned against having anything to do with him, and at Seville his writings were solemnly committed to the flames. On this occasion he is said to have remarked--
"The paper ye may burn, but what the paper holds Ye cannot burn: 'tis safe within my breast: where I Remove, it goes with me, alights when I alight, And in my tomb will lie."[786]
[Sidenote: 'The Book of Religions and Sects.']
After being expelled from several provinces of Spain, Ibn Ḥazm withdrew to a village, of which he was the owner, and remained there until his death. Of his numerous writings only a few have escaped destruction, but fortunately we possess the most valuable of them all, the 'Book of Religions and Sects' (_Kitábu ’l-Milal wa-’l-Niḥal_),[787] which was recently printed in Cairo for the first time. This work treats in controversial fashion (1) of the non-Muḥammadan religious systems, especially Judaism, Christianity, and Zoroastrianism, and (2) of Islam and its dogmas, which are of course regarded from the Ẓáhirite standpoint, and of the four principal Muḥammadan sects, viz., the Mu‘tazilites, the Murjites, the Shí‘ites, and the Khárijites. The author maintains that these sects owed their rise to the Persians, who sought thus to revenge themselves upon victorious Islam.[788]
[Sidenote: Literature in Spain in the eleventh century.]
[Sidenote: Samuel Ha-Levi.]
The following are some of the most distinguished Spanish writers of this epoch: the historian, Abú Marwán Ibn Ḥayyán of Cordova († 1075 A.D.), whose chief works are a colossal history of Spain in sixty volumes entitled _al-Matín_ and a smaller chronicle (_al-Muqtabis_), both of which appear to have been almost entirely lost;[789] the jurisconsult and poet, Abu ’l-Walíd al-Bájí († 1081 A.D.); the traditionist Yúsuf Ibn ‘Abd al-Barr († 1071 A.D.); and the geographer al-Bakrí, a native of Cordova, where he died in 1094 A.D. Finally, mention should be made of the famous Jews, Solomon Ibn Gabirol (Avicebron) and Samuel Ha-Levi. The former, who was born at Malaga about 1020 A.D., wrote two philosophical works in Arabic, and his _Fons Vitae_ played an important part in the development of mediæval scholasticism. Samuel Ha-Levi was Vizier to Bádís, the sovereign of Granada (1038-1073 A.D.). In their admiration of his extraordinary accomplishments the Arabs all but forgot that he was a Jew and a prince (_Naghíd_) in Israel.[790] Samuel, on his part, when he wrote letters of State, did not scruple to employ the usual Muḥammadan formulas, "Praise to Allah!" "May Allah bless our Prophet Muḥammad!" and to glorify Islam quite in the manner of a good Moslem. He had a perfect mastery of Hebrew and Arabic; he knew five other languages, and was profoundly versed in the sciences of the ancients, particularly in astronomy. With all his learning he was a supple diplomat and a man of the world. Yet he always preserved a dignified and unassuming demeanour, although in his days (according to Ibnu ’l-‘Idhárí) "the Jews made themselves powerful and behaved arrogantly towards the Moslems."[791]
During the whole of the twelfth, and well into the first half of the thirteenth, century Spain was ruled by two African dynasties, the Almoravides and the Almohades, which originated, as their names denote, in the religious fanaticism of the Berber tribes of the Sahara. The rise of the Almoravides is related by Ibnu ’l-Athír as follows:--[792]
[Sidenote: Rise of the Almoravides.]
"In this year (448 A.H. = 1056 A.D.) was the beginning of the power of the _Mulaththamún_.[793] These were a number of tribes descended from Ḥimyar, of which the most considerable were Lamtúna, Jadála, and Lamṭa.... Now in the above-mentioned year a man of Jadála, named Jawhar, set out for Africa[794] on his way to the Pilgrimage, for he loved religion and the people thereof. At Qayrawán he fell in with a certain divine--Abú ‘Imrán al-Fásí, as is generally supposed--and a company of persons who were studying theology under him. Jawhar was much pleased with what he saw of their piety, and on his return from Mecca he begged Abú ‘Imrán to send back with him to the desert a teacher who should instruct the ignorant Berbers in the laws of Islam. So Abú ‘Imrán sent with him a man called ‘Abdulláh b. Yásín al-Kuzúlí, who was an excellent divine, and they journeyed together until they came to the tribe of Lamtúna. Then Jawhar dismounted from his camel and took hold of the bridle of ‘Abdulláh b. Yásín's camel, in reverence for the law of Islam; and the men of Lamtúna approached Jawhar and greeted him and questioned him concerning his companion. 'This man,' he replied, 'is the bearer of the Sunna of the Apostle of God: he has come to teach you what is necessary in the religion of Islam.' So they bade them both welcome, and said to ‘Abdulláh, 'Tell us the law of Islam,' and he explained it to them. They answered, 'As to what you have told us of prayer and alms-giving, that is easy; but when you say, "He that kills shall be killed, and he that steals shall have his hand cut off, and he that commits adultery shall be flogged or stoned," that is an ordinance which we will not lay upon ourselves. Begone elsewhere!'... And they came to Jadála, Jawhar's own tribe, and ‘Abdulláh called on them and the neighbouring tribes to fulfil the law, and some consented while others refused. Then, after a time, ‘Abdulláh said to his followers, 'Ye must fight the enemies of the Truth, so appoint a commander over you.' Jawhar answered, 'Thou art our commander,' but ‘Abdulláh declared that he was only a missionary, and on his advice the command was offered to Abú Bakr b. ‘Umar, the chief of Lamtúna, a man of great authority and influence. Having prevailed upon him to act as leader, ‘Abdulláh began to preach a holy war, and gave his adherents the name of Almoravides (_al-Murábitún_)."[795]
[Sidenote: The Almoravide Empire (1056-1147 A.D.).]
The little community rapidly increased in numbers and power. Yúsuf b. Táshifín, who succeeded to the command in 1069 A.D., founded the city of Morocco, and from this centre made new conquests in every direction, so that ere long the Almoravides ruled over the whole of North-West Africa from Senegal to Algeria. We have already seen how Yúsuf was invited by the ‘Abbádids to lead an army into Spain, how he defeated Alphonso VI at Zalláqa and, returning a few years later, this time not as an ally but as a conqueror, took possession of Granada and Seville. The rest of Moslem Spain was subdued without much trouble: laity and clergy alike hailed in the Berber monarch a zealous reformer of the Faith and a mighty bulwark against its Christian enemies. The hopeful prospect was not realised. Spanish civilisation enervated the Berbers, but did not refine them. Under the narrow bigotry of Yúsuf and his successors free thought became impossible, culture and science faded away. Meanwhile the country was afflicted by famine, brigandage, and all the disorders of a feeble and corrupt administration.
[Sidenote: Ibn Túmart.]
The empire of the Almoravides passed into the hands of another African dynasty, the Almohades.[796] Their founder, Muḥammad Ibn Túmart, was a native of the mountainous district of Sús which lies to the south-west of Morocco. When a youth he made the Pilgrimage to Mecca (about 1108 A.D.), and also visited Baghdád, where he studied in the Niẓámiyya College and is said to have met the celebrated Ghazálí. He returned home with his head full of theology and ambitious schemes. We need not dwell upon his career from this point until he finally proclaimed himself as the Mahdí (1121 A.D.), nor describe the familiar methods--some of them disreputable enough--by which he induced the Berbers to believe in him. His doctrines, however, may be briefly stated. "In most questions," says one of his biographers,[797] "he followed the system of Abu ’l-Ḥasan al-Ash‘arí, but he agreed with the Mu‘tazilites in their denial of the Divine Attributes and in a few matters besides; and he was at heart somewhat inclined to Shí‘ism, although he gave it no countenance in public."[798] The gist of his teaching is indicated by the name _Muwaḥḥid_ (Unitarian), which he bestowed on himself, and which his successors adopted as their dynastic title.[799] Ibn Túmart emphasised the Unity of God; in other words, he denounced the anthropomorphic ideas which prevailed in Western Islam and strove to replace them by a purely spiritual conception of the Deity. To this main doctrine he added a second, that of the Infallible Imám (_al-Imám al-Ma‘ṣúm_), and he naturally asserted that the Imám was Muḥammad Ibn Túmart, a descendant of ‘Alí b. Abí Ṭálib.
[Sidenote: The Almohades (1130-1269 A.D.).]
On the death of the Mahdí (1130 A.D.) the supreme command devolved upon his trusted lieutenant, ‘Abdu ’l-Mu’min, who carried on the holy war against the Almoravides with growing success, until in 1158 A.D. he "united the whole coast from the frontier of Egypt to the Atlantic, together with Moorish Spain, under his sceptre."[800] The new dynasty was far more enlightened and favourable to culture than the Almoravides had been. Yúsuf, the son of ‘Abdu ’l-Mu’min, is described as an excellent scholar, whose mind was stored with the battles and traditions and history of the Arabs before and after Islam. But he found his highest pleasure in the study and patronage of philosophy. The great Aristotelian, Ibn Ṭufayl, was his Vizier and court physician; and Ibn Rushd (Averroes) received flattering honours both from him and from his successor, Ya‘qúb al-Manṣúr, who loved to converse with the philosopher on scientific topics, although in a fit of orthodoxy he banished him for a time.[801] This curious mixture of liberality and intolerance is characteristic of the Almohades. However they might encourage speculation in its proper place, their law and theology were cut according to the plain Ẓáhirite pattern. "The Koran and the Traditions of the Prophet--or else the sword!" is a saying of the last-mentioned sovereign, who also revived the autos-da-fé, which had been prohibited by his grandfather, of Málikite and other obnoxious books.[802] The spirit of the Almohades is admirably reflected in Ibn Ṭufayl's famous philosophical romance, named after its hero, _Ḥayy ibn Yaqẓán_, _i.e._, 'Alive, son of Awake,'[803] of which the following summary is given by Mr. Duncan B. Macdonald in his excellent _Muslim Theology_ (p. 253):--
[Sidenote: The story of Ḥayy b. Yaqẓán.]
"In it he conceives two islands, the one inhabited and the other not. On the inhabited island we have conventional people living conventional lives, and restrained by a conventional religion of rewards and punishments. Two men there, Salámán and Asál,[804] have raised themselves to a higher level of self-rule. Salámán adapts himself externally to the popular religion and rules the people; Asál, seeking to perfect himself still further in solitude, goes to the other island. But there he finds a man, Ḥayy ibn Yaqẓán, who has lived alone from infancy and has gradually, by the innate and uncorrupted powers of the mind, developed himself to the highest philosophic level and reached the Vision of the Divine. He has passed through all the stages of knowledge until the universe lies clear before him, and now he finds that his philosophy thus reached, without prophet or revelation, and the purified religion of Asál are one and the same. The story told by Asál of the people of the other island sitting in darkness stirs his soul, and he goes forth to them as a missionary. But he soon learns that the method of Muḥammad was the true one for the great masses, and that only by sensuous allegory and concrete things could they be reached and held. He retires to his island again to live the solitary life."
[Sidenote: Literature under the Almoravides and Almohades (1100-1250 A.D.).]
Of the writers who flourished under the Berber dynasties few are sufficiently important to deserve mention in a work of this kind. The philosophers, however, stand in a class by themselves. Ibn Bájja (Avempace), Ibn Rushd (Averroes), Ibn Ṭufayl, and Músá b. Maymún (Maimonides) made their influence felt far beyond the borders of Spain: they belong, in a sense, to Europe. We have noticed elsewhere the great mystic, Muḥyi ’l-Dín Ibnu ’l-‘Arabí († 1240 A.D.); his fellow-townsman, Ibn Sab‘ín († 1269 A.D.), a thinker of the same type, wrote letters on philosophical subjects to Frederick II of Hohenstaufen. Valuable works on the literary history of Spain were composed by Ibn Kháqán († 1134 A.D.), Ibn Bassám († 1147 A.D.), and Ibn Bashkuwál († 1183 A.D.). The geographer Idrísí († 1154 A.D.) was born at Ceuta, studied at Cordova, and found a patron in the Sicilian monarch, Roger II; Ibn Jubayr published an interesting account of his pilgrimage from Granada to Mecca and of his journey back to Granada during the years 1183-1185 A.D.; Ibn Zuhr (Avenzoar), who became a Vizier under the Almoravides, was the first of a whole family of eminent physicians; and Ibnu ’l-Bayṭár of Malaga († 1248 A.D.), after visiting Egypt, Greece, and Asia Minor in order to extend his knowledge of botany, compiled a Materia Medica, which he dedicated to the Sultan of Egypt, Malik al-Kámil.
[Sidenote: Reconquest of Spain by Ferdinand III.]
[Sidenote: The Naṣrids of Granada (1232-1492 A.D.).]
We have now taken a rapid survey of the Moslem empire in Spain from its rise in the eighth century of our era down to the last days of the Almohades, which saw the Christian arms everywhere triumphant. By 1230 A.D. the Almohades had been driven out of the peninsula, although they continued to rule Africa for about forty years after this date. Amidst the general wreck one spot remained where the Moors could find shelter. This was Granada. Here, in 1232 A.D., Muḥammad Ibnu ’l-Aḥmar assumed the proud title of 'Conqueror by Grace of God' (_Ghálib billáh_) and founded the Naṣrid dynasty, which held the Christians at bay during two centuries and a half. That the little Moslem kingdom survived so long was not due to its own strength, but rather to its almost impregnable situation and to the dissensions of the victors. The latest bloom of Arabic culture in Europe renewed, if it did not equal, the glorious memories of Cordova and Seville. In this period arose the world-renowned Alhambra, _i.e._, 'the Red Palace' (al-Ḥamrá) of the Naṣrid kings, and many other superb monuments of which the ruins are still visible. We must not, however, be led away into a digression even upon such a fascinating subject as Moorish architecture. Our information concerning literary matters is scantier than it might have been, on account of the vandalism practised by the Christians when they took Granada. It is no dubious legend (like the reputed burning of the Alexandrian Library by order of the Caliph ‘Umar),[805] but a well-ascertained fact that the ruthless Archbishop Ximenez made a bonfire of all the Arabic manuscripts on which he could lay his hands. He wished to annihilate the record of seven centuries of Muḥammadan culture in a single day.
The names of Ibnu ’l-Khaṭíb and Ibn Khaldún represent the highest literary accomplishment and historical comprehension of which this age was capable. The latter, indeed, has no parallel among Oriental historians.
[Sidenote: Ibnu ’l-Khaṭíb (1313-1374 A.D.).]
Lisánu ’l-Dín Ibnu ’l-Khaṭíb[806] played a great figure in the politics of his time, and his career affords a conspicuous example of the intimate way in which Moslem poetry and literature are connected with public life. "The Arabs did not share the opinion widely spread nowadays, that poetical talent flourishes best in seclusion from the tumult of the world, or that it dims the clearness of vision which is required for the conduct of public affairs. On the contrary, their princes entrusted the chief offices of State to poets, and poetry often served as a means to obtain more brilliant results than diplomatic notes could have procured."[807] A young man like Ibnu ’l-Khaṭíb, who had mastered the entire field of belles-lettres, who improvised odes and rhyming epistles with incomparable elegance and facility, was marked out to be the favourite of kings. He became Vizier at the Naṣrid court, a position which he held, with one brief interval of disgrace, until 1371 A.D., when the intrigues of his enemies forced him to flee from Granada. He sought refuge at Fez, and was honourably received by the reigning Sultan, ‘Abdu ’l-‘Azíz; but on the accession of Abu ’l-‘Abbás in 1374 A.D. the exiled minister was incarcerated and brought to trial on the charge of heresy (_zandaqa_). While the inquisition was proceeding a fanatical mob broke into the gaol and murdered him. Maqqarí relates that Ibnu ’l-Khaṭib suffered from insomnia, and that most of his works were composed during the night, for which reason he got the nickname of _Dhu ’l-‘Umrayn_, or 'The man of two lives.'[808] He was a prolific writer in various branches of literature, but, like so many of his countrymen, he excelled in History. His monographs on the sovereigns and savants of Granada (one of which includes an autobiography) supply interesting details concerning this obscure period.
[Sidenote: Ibn Khaldún (1332-1406 A.D.).]
Some apology may be thought necessary for placing Ibn Khaldún, the greatest historical thinker of Islam, in the present chapter, as though he were a Spaniard either by birth or residence. He descended, it is true, from a family, the Banú Khaldún, which had long been settled in Spain, first at Carmona and afterwards at Seville; but they migrated to Africa about the middle of the thirteenth century, and Ibn Khaldún was born at Tunis. Nearly the whole of his life, moreover, was passed in Africa--a circumstance due rather to accident than to predilection; for in 1362 A.D. he entered the service of the Sultan of Granada, Abú ‘Abdalláh Ibnu ’l-Aḥmar, and would probably have made that city his home had not the jealousy of his former friend, the Vizier Ibnu ’l-Khaṭíb, decided him to leave Spain behind. We cannot give any account of the agitated and eventful career which he ended, as Cadi of Cairo, in 1406 A.D. Ibn Khaldún lived with statesmen and kings: he was an ambassador to the court of Pedro of Castile, and an honoured guest of the mighty Tamerlane. The results of his ripe experience are marvellously displayed in the Prolegomena (_Muqaddima_), which forms the first volume of a huge general history entitled the _Kitábu ’l-‘Ibar_ ('Book of Examples').[809] He himself has stated his idea of the historian's function in the following words:--
[Sidenote: Ibn Khaldún as a philosophical historian.]
"Know that the true purpose of history is to make us acquainted with human society, _i.e._, with the civilisation of the world, and with its natural phenomena, such as savage life, the softening of manners, attachment to the family and the tribe, the various kinds of superiority which one people gains over another, the kingdoms and diverse dynasties which arise in this way, the different trades and laborious occupations to which men devote themselves in order to earn their livelihood, the sciences and arts; in fine, all the manifold conditions which naturally occur in the development of civilisation."[810]
Ibn Khaldún argues that History, thus conceived, is subject to universal laws, and in these laws he finds the only sure criterion of historical truth.
[Sidenote: His canons of historical criticism.]
"The rule for distinguishing what is true from what is false in history is based on its possibility or impossibility: that is to say, we must examine human society (civilisation) and discriminate between the characteristics which are essential and inherent in its nature and those which are accidental and need not be taken into account, recognising further those which cannot possibly belong to it. If we do this we have a rule for separating historical truth from error by means of a demonstrative method that admits of no doubt.... It is a genuine touchstone whereby historians may verify whatever they relate."[811]
Here, indeed, the writer claims too much, and it must be allowed that he occasionally applied his principles in a pedantic fashion, and was led by purely _a priori_ considerations to conclusions which are not always so warrantable as he believed. This is a very trifling matter in comparison with the value and originality of the principles themselves. Ibn Khaldún asserts, with justice, that he has discovered a new method of writing history. No Moslem had ever taken a view at once so comprehensive and so philosophical; none had attempted to trace the deeply hidden causes of events, to expose the moral and spiritual forces at work beneath the surface, or to divine the immutable laws of national progress and decay. Ibn Khaldún owed little to his predecessors, although he mentions some of them with respect. He stood far above his age, and his own countrymen have admired rather than followed him. His intellectual descendants are the great mediæval and modern historians of Europe--Machiavelli and Vico and Gibbon.
[Sidenote: Ibn Kaldún's theory of historical evolution.]
It is worth while to sketch briefly the peculiar theory of historical development which Ibn Khaldún puts forward in his Prolegomena--a theory founded on the study of actual conditions and events either past or passing before his eyes.[812] He was struck, in the first place, with the physical fact that in almost every part of the Muḥammadan Empire great wastes of sand or stony plateaux, arid and incapable of tillage, wedge themselves between fertile domains of cultivated land. The former were inhabited from time immemorial by nomad tribes, the latter by an agricultural or industrial population; and we have seen, in the case of Arabia, that cities like Mecca and Ḥíra carried on a lively intercourse with the Bedouins and exerted a civilising influence upon them. In Africa the same contrast was strongly marked. It is no wonder, therefore, that Ibn Khaldún divided the whole of mankind into two classes--Nomads and Citizens. The nomadic life naturally precedes and produces the other. Its characteristics are simplicity and purity of manners, warlike spirit, and, above all, a loyal devotion to the interests of the family and the tribe. As the nomads become more civilised they settle down, form states, and make conquests. They have now reached their highest development. Corrupted by luxury, and losing the virtues which raised them to power, they are soon swept away by a ruder people. Such, in bare outline, is the course of history as Ibn Khaldún regards it; but we must try to give our readers some further account of the philosophical ideas underlying his conception. He discerns, in the life of tribes and nations alike, two dominant forces which mould their destiny. The primitive and cardinal force he calls _‘aṣabiyya_, the _binding_ element in society, the feeling which unites members of the same family, tribe, nation, or empire, and which in its widest acceptation is equivalent to the modern term, Patriotism. It springs up and especially flourishes among nomad peoples, where the instinct of self-preservation awakens a keen sense of kinship and drives men to make common cause with each other. This _‘aṣabiyya_ is the vital energy of States: by it they rise and grow; as it weakens they decline; and its decay is the signal for their fall. The second of the forces referred to is Religion. Ibn Khaldún hardly ascribes to religion so much influence as we might have expected from a Moslem. He recognises, however, that it may be the only means of producing that solidarity without which no State can exist. Thus in the twenty-seventh chapter of his _Muqaddima_ he lays down the proposition that "the Arabs are incapable of founding an empire unless they are imbued with religious enthusiasm by a prophet or a saint."
In History he sees an endless cycle of progress and retrogression, analogous to the phenomena of human life. Kingdoms are born, attain maturity, and die within a definite period which rarely exceeds three generations, _i.e._, 120 years.[813] During this time they pass through five stages of development and decay.[814] It is noteworthy that Ibn Khaldún admits the moral superiority of the Nomads. For him civilisation necessarily involves corruption and degeneracy. If he did not believe in the gradual advance of mankind towards some higher goal, his pessimism was justified by the lessons of experience and by the mournful plight of the Muḥammadan world, to which his view was restricted.[815]
[Sidenote: The fall of Granada (1492 A.D.).]
In 1492 A.D. the last stronghold of the European Arabs opened its gates to Ferdinand and Isabella, and "the Cross supplanted the Crescent on the towers of Granada." The victors showed a barbarous fanaticism that was the more abominable as it violated their solemn pledges to respect the religion and property of the Moslems, and as it utterly reversed the tolerant and liberal treatment which the Christians of Spain had enjoyed under Muḥammadan rule. Compelled to choose between apostasy and exile, many preferred the latter alternative. Those who remained were subjected to a terrible persecution, until in 1609 A.D., by order of Philip III, the Moors were banished _en masse_ from Spanish soil.
[Sidenote: The Arabs in Sicily.]
Spain was not the sole point whence Moslem culture spread itself over the Christian lands. Sicily was conquered by the Aghlabids of Tunis early in the ninth century, and although the island fell into the hands of the Normans in 1071 A.D., the court of Palermo retained a semi-Oriental character. Here in the reign of Frederick II of Hohenstaufen (1194-1250 A.D.) might be seen "astrologers from Baghdád with long beards and waving robes, Jews who received princely salaries as translators of Arabic works, Saracen dancers and dancing-girls, and Moors who blew silver trumpets on festal occasions."[816] Both Frederick himself and his son Manfred were enthusiastic Arabophiles, and scandalised Christendom by their assumption of 'heathen' manners as well as by the attention which they devoted to Moslem philosophy and science. Under their auspices Arabic learning was communicated to the neighbouring towns of Lower Italy.