CHAPTER V

THE ORTHODOX CALIPHATE AND THE UMAYYAD DYNASTY

The Caliphate--_i.e._, the period of the Caliphs or Successors of Muḥammad--extends over six centuries and a quarter (632-1258 A.D.), and falls into three clearly-marked divisions of very unequal length and diverse character.

[Sidenote: The Orthodox Caliphate (632-661 A.D.).]

The first division begins with the election of Abú Bakr, the first Caliph, in 632, and comes to an end with the assassination of ‘Alí, the Prophet's son-in-law and fourth successor, in 661. These four Caliphs are known as the Orthodox (_al-Ráshidún_), because they trod faithfully in the footsteps of the Prophet and ruled after his example in the holy city of Medína, with the assistance of his leading Companions, who constituted an informal Senate.

[Sidenote: The Ummayyad Caliphate (661-750 A.D.).]

The second division includes the Caliphs of the family of Umayya, from the accession of Mu‘áwiya in 661 to the great battle of the Záb in 750, when Marwán II, the last of his line, was defeated by the ‘Abbásids, who claimed the Caliphate as next of kin to the Prophet. According to Moslem notions the Umayyads were kings by right, Caliphs only by courtesy. They had, as we shall see, no spiritual title, and little enough religion of any sort. This dynasty, which had been raised and was upheld by the Syrian Arabs, transferred the seat of government from Medína to Damascus.

[Sidenote: The ‘Abbásid Caliphate (750-1258 A.D.).]

The third division is by far the longest and most important. Starting in 750 with the accession of Abu ’l-‘Abbás al-Saffáh, it presents an unbroken series of thirty-seven Caliphs of the same House, and culminates, after the lapse of half a millennium, in the sack of Baghdád, their magnificent capital, by the Mongol Húlágú (January, 1258). The ‘Abbásids were no less despotic than the Umayyads, but in a more enlightened fashion; for, while the latter had been purely Arab in feeling, the ‘Abbásids owed their throne to the Persian nationalists, and were imbued with Persian ideas, which introduced a new and fruitful element into Moslem civilisation.

[Sidenote: Early Islamic literature.]

From our special point of view the Orthodox and Umayyad Caliphates, which form the subject of the present chapter, are somewhat barren. The simple life of the pagan Arabs found full expression in their poetry. The many-sided life of the Moslems under ‘Abbásid rule may be studied in a copious literature which exhibits all the characteristics of the age; but of contemporary documents illustrating the intellectual history of the early Islamic period comparatively little has been preserved, and that little, being for the most part anti-Islamic in tendency, gives only meagre information concerning what excites interest beyond anything else--the religious movement, the rise of theology, and the origin of those great parties and sects which emerge, at various stages of development, in later literature.

[Sidenote: Unity of Church and State.]

Since the Moslem Church and State are essentially one, it is impossible to treat of politics apart from religion, nor can religious phenomena be understood without continual reference to political events. The following brief sketch of the Orthodox Caliphate will show how completely this unity was realised, and what far-reaching consequences it had.

[Sidenote: Abú Bakr elected Caliph (June, 632 A.D.).]

[Sidenote: Musaylima the Liar.]

That Muḥammad left no son was perhaps of less moment than his neglect or refusal to nominate a successor. The Arabs were unfamiliar with the hereditary descent of kingly power, while the idea had not yet dawned of a Divine right resident in the Prophet's family. It was thoroughly in accord with Arabian practice that the Moslem community should elect its own leader, just as in heathen days the tribe chose its own chief. The likeliest men--all three belonged to Quraysh--were Abú Bakr, whose daughter ‘Á’isha had been Muḥammad's favourite wife, ‘Umar b. al-Khaṭṭáb, and ‘Alí, Abú Ṭálib's son and Fáṭima's husband, who was thus connected with the Prophet by blood as well as by marriage. Abú Bakr was the eldest, he was supported by ‘Umar, and on him the choice ultimately fell, though not without an ominous ebullition of party strife. A man of simple tastes and unassuming demeanour, he had earned the name _al-Ṣiddíq, _i.e._, the True, by his unquestioning faith in the Prophet; naturally gentle and merciful, he stood firm when the cause of Islam was at stake, and crushed with iron hand the revolt which on the news of Muḥammad's death spread like wildfire through Arabia. False prophets arose, and the Bedouins rallied round them, eager to throw off the burden of tithes and prayers. In the centre of the peninsula, the Banú Ḥanífa were led to battle by Musaylima, who imitated the early style of the Koran with ludicrous effect, if we may judge from the sayings ascribed to him, _e.g._, "The elephant, what is the elephant, and who shall tell you what is the elephant? He has a poor tail, and a long trunk: and is a trifling part of the creations of thy God." Moslem tradition calls him the Liar (_al-Kadhdháb_), and represents him as an obscene miracle-monger, which can hardly be the whole truth. It is possible that he got some of his doctrines from Christianity, as Professor Margoliouth has suggested,[344] but we know too little about them to arrive at any conclusion. After a desperate struggle Musaylima was defeated and slain by 'the Sword of Allah,' Khálid b. Walíd. The Moslem arms were everywhere victorious. Arabia bowed in sullen submission.

[Sidenote: Islam a world-religion.]

[Sidenote: Conquest of Persia and Syria (633-643 A.D.).]

[Sidenote: Moslem toleration.]

Although Muir and other biographers of Muḥammad have argued that Islam was originally designed for the Arabs alone, and made no claim to universal acceptance, their assertion is contradicted by the unequivocal testimony of the Koran itself. In one of the oldest Revelations (lxviii, 51-52), we read: "_It wanteth little but that the unbelievers dash thee to the ground with their looks_ (of anger) _when they hear the Warning_ (_i.e._, the Koran); _and they say, 'He is assuredly mad': but it_ (the Koran) _is no other than a_ WARNING UNTO ALL CREATURES" (_dhikrun li ’l-‘álamín_).[345] The time had now come when this splendid dream was to be, in large measure, fulfilled. The great wars of conquest were inspired by the Prophet's missionary zeal and justified by his example. Pious duty coincided with reasons of state. "It was certainly good policy to turn the recently subdued tribes of the wilderness towards an external aim in which they might at once satisfy their lust for booty on a grand scale, maintain their warlike feeling, and strengthen themselves in their attachment to the new faith."[346] The story of their achievements cannot be set down here. Suffice it to say that within twelve years after the Prophet's death the Persian Empire had been reduced to a tributary province, and Syria, together with Egypt, torn away from Byzantine rule. It must not be supposed that the followers of Zoroaster and Christ in these countries were forcibly converted to Islam. Thousands embraced it of free will, impelled by various motives which we have no space to enumerate; those who clung to the religion in which they had been brought up secured protection and toleration by payment of a capitation-tax (_jizya_).[347]

[Sidenote: The Caliph ‘Umar (634-644 A.D.).]

The tide of foreign conquest, which had scarce begun to flow before the death of Abú Bakr, swept with amazing rapidity over Syria and Persia in the Caliphate of ‘Umar b. al-Khaṭṭáb (634-644), and continued to advance, though with diminished fury, under the Prophet's third successor, ‘Uthmán. We may dwell for a little on the noble figure of ‘Umar, who was regarded by good Moslems in after times as an embodiment of all the virtues which a Caliph ought to possess. Probably his character has been idealised, but in any case the anecdotes related of him give an admirable picture of the man and his age. Here are a few, taken almost at random from the pages of Ṭabarí.

[Sidenote: His simple manners.]

[Sidenote: His sense of personal responsibility.]

[Sidenote: The Caliph as a policeman.]

[Sidenote: His strictness towards his own family.]

[Sidenote: Instructions to his governors.]

One said: "I saw ‘Umar coming to the Festival. He walked with bare feet, using both hands (for he was ambidextrous) to draw round him a red embroidered cloth. He towered above the people, as though he were on horseback."[348] A client of (the Caliph) ‘Uthmán b. ‘Affán relates that he mounted behind his patron and they rode together to the enclosure for the beasts which were delivered in payment of the poor-tax. It was an exceedingly hot day and the simoom was blowing fiercely. They saw a man clad only in a loin-cloth and a short cloak (_ridá_), in which he had wrapped his head, driving the camels into the enclosure. ‘Uthmán said to his companion, "Who is this, think you?" When they came up to him, behold, it was ‘Umar b. al-Khaṭṭáb. "By God," said ‘Uthmán, "this is _the strong, the trusty_."[349]--‘Umar used to go round the markets and recite the Koran and judge between disputants wherever he found them.--When Ka‘bu ’l-Aḥbár, a well-known Rabbin of Medína, asked how he could obtain access to the Commander of the Faithful,[350] he received this answer: "There is no door nor curtain to be passed; he performs the rites of prayer, then he takes his seat, and any one that wishes may speak to him."[351] ‘Umar said in one of his public orations, "By Him who sent Muḥammad with the truth, were a single camel to die of neglect on the bank of the Euphrates, I should fear lest God should call the family of al-Khaṭṭáb" (meaning himself) "to account therefor."[352]--"If I live," he is reported to have said on another occasion, "please God, I will assuredly spend a whole year in travelling among my subjects, for I know they have wants which are cut short ere they reach my ears: the governors do not bring the wants of the people before me, while the people themselves do not attain to me. So I will journey to Syria and remain there two months, then to Mesopotamia and remain there two months, then to Egypt and remain there two months, then to Baḥrayn and remain there two months, then to Kúfa and remain there two months, then to Baṣra and remain there two months; and by God, it will be a year well spent!"[353]--One night he came to the house of ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán b. ‘Awf and knocked at the door, which was opened by ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán's wife. "Do not enter," said she, "until I go back and sit in my place;" so he waited. Then she bade him come in, and on his asking, "Have you anything in the house?" she fetched him some food. Meanwhile ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán was standing by, engaged in prayer. "Be quick, man!" cried ‘Umar. ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán immediately pronounced the final salaam, and turning to the Caliph said: "O Commander of the Faithful, what has brought you here at this hour?" ‘Umar replied: "A party of travellers who alighted in the neighbourhood of the market: I was afraid that the thieves of Medína might fall upon them. Let us go and keep watch." So he set off with ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán, and when they reached the market-place they seated themselves on some high ground and began to converse. Presently they descried, far away, the light of a lamp. "Have not I forbidden lamps after bedtime?"[354] exclaimed the Caliph. They went to the spot and found a company drinking wine. "Begone," said ‘Umar to ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán; "I know him." Next morning he sent for the culprit and said, addressing him by name, "Last night you were drinking wine with your friends." "O Commander of the Faithful, how did you ascertain that?" "I saw it with my own eyes." "Has not God forbidden you to play the spy?" ‘Umar made no answer and pardoned his offence.[355]--When ‘Umar ascended the pulpit for the purpose of warning the people that they must not do something, he gathered his family and said to them: "I have forbidden the people to do so-and-so. Now, the people look at you as birds look at flesh, and I swear by God that if I find any one of you doing this thing, I will double the penalty against him."[356]--Whenever he appointed a governor he used to draw up in writing a certificate of investiture, which he caused to be witnessed by some of the Emigrants or Helpers. It contained the following instructions: That he must not ride on horseback, nor eat white bread, nor wear fine clothes, nor set up a door between himself and those who had aught to ask of him.[357]--It was ‘Umar's custom to go forth with his governors, on their appointment, to bid them farewell. "I have not appointed you," he would say, "over the people of Muḥammad (God bless him and grant him peace!) that you may drag them by their hair and scourge their skins, but in order that you may lead them in prayer and judge between them with right and divide (the public money) amongst them with equity. I have not made you lords of their skin and hair. Do not flog the Arabs lest you humiliate them, and do not keep them long on foreign service lest you tempt them to sedition, and do not neglect them lest you render them desperate. Confine yourselves to the Koran, write few Traditions of Muḥammad (God bless him and grant him peace!), and I am your ally." He used to permit retaliation against his governors. On receiving a complaint about any one of them he confronted him with the accuser, and punished him if his guilt were proved.[358]

[Sidenote: The Register of ‘Umar.]

It was ‘Umar who first made a Register (_Díwán_) of the Arabs in Islam and entered them therein according to their tribes and assigned to them their stipends. The following account of its institution is extracted from the charming history entitled _al-Fakhrí_:--

In the fifteenth year of the Hijra (636 A.D.) ‘Umar, who was then Caliph, seeing that the conquests proceeded without interruption and that the treasures of the Persian monarchs had been taken as spoil, and that load after load was being accumulated of gold and silver and precious jewels and splendid raiment, resolved to enrich the Moslems by distributing all this wealth amongst them; but he did not know how he should manage it. Now there was a Persian satrap (_marzubán_) at Medína who, when he saw ‘Umar's bewilderment, said to him, "O Commander of the Faithful, the Persian kings have a thing they call a _Díwán_, in which is kept the whole of their revenues and expenditures without exception; and therein those who receive stipends are arranged in classes, so that no confusion occurs." ‘Umar's attention was aroused. He bade the satrap describe it, and on comprehending its nature, he drew up the registers and assigned the stipends, appointing a specified allowance for every Moslem; and he allotted fixed sums to the wives of the Apostle (on whom be God's blessing and peace!) and to his concubines and next-of-kin, until he exhausted the money in hand. He did not lay up a store in the treasury. Some one came to him and said: "O Commander of the Faithful, you should have left something to provide for contingencies." ‘Umar rebuked him, saying, "The devil has put these words into your mouth. May God preserve me from their mischief! for it were a temptation to my successors. Come what may, I will provide naught except obedience to God and His Apostle. That is our provision, whereby we have gained that which we have gained." Then, in respect of the stipends, he deemed it right that precedence should be according to priority of conversion to Islam and of service rendered to the Apostle on his fields of battle.[359]

[Sidenote: The aristocracy of Islam.]

[Sidenote: "'Tis only noble to be good."]

Affinity to Muḥammad was also considered. "By God," exclaimed ‘Umar, "we have not won superiority in this world, nor do we hope for recompense for our works from God hereafter, save through Muḥammad (God bless him and grant him peace!). He is our title to nobility, his tribe are the noblest of the Arabs, and after them those are the nobler that are nearer to him in blood. Truly, the Arabs are ennobled by God's Apostle. Peradventure some of them have many ancestors in common with him, and we ourselves are only removed by a few forbears from his line of descent, in which we accompany him back to Adam. Notwithstanding this, if the foreigners bring good works and we bring none, by God, they are nearer to Muḥammad on the day of Resurrection than we. Therefore let no man regard affinity, but let him work for that which is in God's hands to bestow. He that is retarded by his works will not be sped by his lineage."[360]

It may be said of ‘Umar, not less appropriately than of Cromwell, that he

"cast the kingdoms old Into another mould;"

and he too justified the poet's maxim--

"The same arts that did gain A power, must it maintain."

[Sidenote: Foundation of Baṣra and Kúfa (638 A.D.).]

Under the system which he organised Arabia, purged of infidels, became a vast recruiting-ground for the standing armies of Islam: the Arabs in the conquered territories formed an exclusive military class, living in great camps and supported by revenues derived from the non-Muḥammadan population. Out of such camps arose two cities destined to make their mark in literary history--Baṣra (Bassora) on the delta of the Tigris and Euphrates, and Kúfa, which was founded about the same time on the western branch of the latter stream, not far from Ḥíra.

[Sidenote: Death of ‘Umar (644 A.D.)]

‘Umar was murdered by a Persian slave named Fírúz while leading the prayers in the Great Mosque. With his death the military theocracy and the palmy days of the Patriarchal Caliphate draw to a close. The broad lines of his character appear in the anecdotes translated above, though many details might be added to complete the picture. Simple and frugal; doing his duty without fear or favour; energetic even to harshness, yet capable of tenderness towards the weak; a severe judge of others and especially of himself, he was a born ruler and every inch a man. Looking back on the turmoils which followed his death one is inclined to agree with the opinion of a saintly doctor who said, five centuries afterwards, that "the good fortune of Islam was shrouded in the grave-clothes of ‘Umar b. al-Khaṭṭáb."[361]

[Sidenote: ‘Uthmán elected Caliph (644 A.D.).]

[Sidenote: General disaffection.]

[Sidenote: ‘Uthmán murdered (656 A.D.).]

When the Meccan aristocrats accepted Islam, they only yielded to the inevitable. They were now to have an opportunity of revenging themselves. ‘Uthmán b. ‘Affán, who succeeded ‘Umar as Caliph, belonged to a distinguished Meccan family, the Umayyads or descendants of Umayya, which had always taken a leading part in the opposition to Muḥammad, though ‘Uthmán himself was among the Prophet's first disciples. He was a pious, well-meaning old man--an easy tool in the hands of his ambitious kinsfolk. They soon climbed into all the most lucrative and important offices and lived on the fat of the land, while too often their ungodly behaviour gave point to the question whether these converts of the eleventh hour were not still heathens at heart. Other causes contributed to excite a general discontent. The rapid growth of luxury and immorality in the Holy Cities as well as in the new settlements was an eyesore to devout Moslems. The true Islamic aristocracy, the Companions of the Prophet, headed by ‘Alí, Ṭalḥa, and Zubayr, strove to undermine the rival nobility which threatened them with destruction. The factious soldiery were ripe for revolt against Umayyad arrogance and greed. Rebellion broke out, and finally the aged Caliph, after enduring a siege of several weeks, was murdered in his own house. This event marks an epoch in the history of the Arabs. The ensuing civil wars rent the unity of Islam from top to bottom, and the wound has never healed.

[Sidenote: ‘Alí elected Caliph (656 A.D.).]

[Sidenote: Character of ‘Alí.]

[Sidenote: His apotheosis.]

‘Alí, the Prophet's cousin and son-in-law, who had hitherto remained in the background, was now made Caliph. Although the suspicion that he was in league with the murderers may be put aside, he showed culpable weakness in leaving ‘Uthmán to his fate without an effort to save him. But ‘Alí had almost every virtue except those of the ruler: energy, decision, and foresight. He was a gallant warrior, a wise counsellor, a true friend, and a generous foe. He excelled in poetry and in eloquence; his verses and sayings are famous throughout the Muḥammadan East, though few of them can be considered authentic. A fine spirit worthy to be compared with Montrose and Bayard, he had no talent for the stern realities of statecraft, and was overmatched by unscrupulous rivals who knew that "war is a game of deceit." Thus his career was in one sense a failure: his authority as Caliph was never admitted, while he lived, by the whole community. On the other hand, he has exerted, down to the present day, a posthumous influence only second to that of Muḥammad himself. Within a century of his death he came to be regarded as the Prophet's successor _jure divino_; as a blessed martyr, sinless and infallible; and by some even as an incarnation of God. The ‘Alí of Shí‘ite legend is not an historical figure glorified: rather does he symbolise, in purely mythical fashion, the religious aspirations and political aims of a large section of the Moslem world.

[Sidenote: ‘Alí against Mu‘áwiya.]

[Sidenote: Battle of Ṣiffín (657 A.D.).]

[Sidenote: Arbitration.]

[Sidenote: The award.]

[Sidenote: The Khárijites revolt against ‘Alí.]

[Sidenote: Alí assassinated (661 A.D.).]

To return to our narrative. No sooner was ‘Alí proclaimed Caliph by the victorious rebels than Mu‘áwiya b. Abí Sufyán, the governor of Syria, raised the cry of vengeance for ‘Uthmán and refused to take the oath of allegiance. As head of the Umayyad family, Mu‘áwiya might justly demand that the murderers of his kinsman should be punished, but the contest between him and ‘Alí was virtually for the Caliphate. A great battle was fought at Ṣiffín, a village on the Euphrates. ‘Alí had well-nigh gained the day when Mu‘áwiya bethought him of a stratagem. He ordered his troops to fix Korans on the points of their lances and to shout, "Here is the Book of God: let it decide between us!" The miserable trick succeeded. In ‘Alí's army there were many pious fanatics to whom the proposed arbitration by the Koran appealed with irresistible force. They now sprang forward clamorously, threatening to betray their leader unless he would submit his cause to the Book. Vainly did ‘Alí remonstrate with the mutineers, and warn them of the trap into which they were driving him, and this too at the moment when victory was within their grasp. He had no choice but to yield and name as his umpire a man of doubtful loyalty, Abú Músá al-Ash‘arí, one of the oldest surviving Companions of the Prophet. Mu‘áwiya on his part named ‘Amr b. al-‘Áṣ, whose cunning had prompted the decisive manœuvre. When the umpires came forth to give judgment, Abú Músá rose and in accordance with what had been arranged at the preliminary conference pronounced that both ‘Alí and Mu‘áwiya should be deposed and that the people should elect a proper Caliph in their stead. "Lo," said he, laying down his sword, "even thus do I depose ‘Alí b. Abí Ṭálib." Then ‘Amr advanced and spoke as follows: "O people! ye have heard the judgment of my colleague. He has called you to witness that he deposes ‘Alí. Now I call you to witness that I confirm Mu‘áwiya, even as I make fast this sword of mine," and suiting the action to the word, he returned it to its sheath. It is characteristic of Arabian notions of morality that this impudent fraud was hailed by Mu‘áwiya's adherents as a diplomatic triumph which gave him a colourable pretext for assuming the title of Caliph. Both sides prepared to renew the struggle, but in the meanwhile ‘Alí found his hands full nearer home. A numerous party among his troops, including the same zealots who had forced arbitration upon him, now cast him off because he had accepted it, fell out from the ranks, and raised the standard of revolt. These 'Outgoers,' or Khárijites, as they were called, maintained their theocratic principles with desperate courage, and though often defeated took the field again and again. ‘Alí's plans for recovering Syria were finally abandoned in 660, when he concluded peace with Mu‘áwiya, and shortly afterwards he was struck down in the Mosque at Kúfa, which he had made his capital, by Ibn Muljam, a Khárijite conspirator.

With ‘Alí's fall our sketch of the Orthodox Caliphate may fitly end. It was necessary to give some account of these years so vital in the history of Islam, even at the risk of wearying the reader, who will perhaps wish that less space were devoted to political affairs.

[Sidenote: The Umayyad dynasty.]

[Sidenote: Moslem tradition hostile to the Umayyads.]

[Sidenote: Mu‘áwiya's clemency.]

[Sidenote: His hours of study.]

The Umayyads came into power, but, except in Syria and Egypt, they ruled solely by the sword. As descendants and representatives of the pagan aristocracy, which strove with all its might to defeat Muḥammad, they were usurpers in the eyes of the Moslem community which they claimed to lead as his successors.[362] We shall see, a little further on, how this opposition expressed itself in two great parties: the Shí‘ites or followers of ‘Alí, and the radical sect of the Khárijites, who have been mentioned above; and how it was gradually reinforced by the non-Arabian Moslems until it overwhelmed the Umayyad Government and set up the ‘Abbásids in their place. In estimating the character of the Umayyads one must bear in mind that the epitaph on the fallen dynasty was composed by their enemies, and can no more be considered historically truthful than the lurid picture which Tacitus has drawn of the Emperor Tiberius. Because they kept the revolutionary forces in check with ruthless severity, the Umayyads pass for bloodthirsty tyrants; whereas the best of them at any rate were strong and singularly capable rulers, bad Moslems and good men of the world, seldom cruel, plain livers if not high thinkers; who upon the whole stand as much above the ‘Abbásids in morality as below them in culture and intellect. Mu‘áwiya's clemency was proverbial, though he too could be stern on occasion. When members of the house of ‘Alí came to visit him at Damascus, which was now the capital of the Muḥammadan Empire, he gave them honourable lodging and entertainment and was anxious to do what they asked; but they (relates the historian approvingly) used to address him in the rudest terms and affront him in the vilest manner: sometimes he would answer them with a jest, and another time he would feign not to hear, and he always dismissed them with splendid presents and ample donations.[363] "I do not employ my sword," he said, "when my whip suffices me, nor my whip when my tongue suffices me; and were there but a single hair (of friendship) between me and my subjects, I would not let it be snapped."[364] After the business of the day he sought relaxation in books. "He consecrated a third part of every night to the history of the Arabs and their famous battles; the history of foreign peoples, their kings, and their government; the biographies of monarchs, including their wars and stratagems and methods of rule; and other matters connected with Ancient History."[365]

[Sidenote: Ziyád ibn Abíhi.]

Mu‘áwiya's chief henchman was Ziyád, the son of Sumayya (Sumayya being the name of his mother), or, as he is generally called, Ziyád ibn Abíhi, _i.e._, 'Ziyád his father's son,' for none knew who was his sire, though rumour pointed to Abú Sufyán; in which case Ziyád would have been Mu‘áwiya's half-brother. Mu‘áwiya, instead of disavowing the scandalous imputation, acknowledged him as such, and made him governor of Baṣra, where he ruled the Eastern provinces with a rod of iron.

[Sidenote: Yazíd (680-683 A.D.).]

Mu‘áwiya was a crafty diplomatist--he has been well compared to Richelieu--whose profound knowledge of human nature enabled him to gain over men of moderate opinions in all the parties opposed to him. Events were soon to prove the hollowness of this outward reconciliation. Yazíd, who succeeded his father, was the son of Maysún, a Bedouin woman whom Mu‘áwiya married before he rose to be Caliph. The luxury of Damascus had no charm for her wild spirit, and she gave utterance to her feeling of homesickness in melancholy verse:--

"A tent with rustling breezes cool Delights me more than palace high, And more the cloak of simple wool Than robes in which I learned to sigh.

The crust I ate beside my tent Was more than this fine bread to me; The wind's voice where the hill-path went Was more than tambourine can be.

And more than purr of friendly cat I love the watch-dog's bark to hear; And more than any lubbard fat I love a Bedouin cavalier."[366]

[Sidenote: Ḥusayn marches on Kúfa.]

[Sidenote: Massacre of Ḥusayn and his followers at Karbalá (10th Muḥarram, 61 A.H. = 10th October, 680 A.D.).]

Mu‘áwiya, annoyed by the contemptuous allusion to himself, took the dame at her word. She returned to her own family, and Yazíd grew up as a Bedouin, with the instincts and tastes which belong to the Bedouins--love of pleasure, hatred of piety, and reckless disregard for the laws of religion. The beginning of his reign was marked by an event of which even now few Moslems can speak without a thrill of horror and dismay. The facts are briefly these: In the autumn of the year 680 Ḥusayn, the son of ‘Alí, claiming to be the rightful Caliph in virtue of his descent from the Prophet, quitted Mecca with his whole family and a number of devoted friends, and set out for Kúfa, where he expected the population, which was almost entirely Shí‘ite, to rally to his cause. It was a foolhardy adventure. The poet Farazdaq, who knew the fickle temper of his fellow-townsmen, told Ḥusayn that although their hearts were with him, their swords would be with the Umayyads; but his warning was given in vain. Meanwhile ‘Ubaydulláh b. Ziyád, the governor of Kúfa, having overawed the insurgents in the city and beheaded their leader, Muslim b. ‘Aqíl, who was a cousin of Ḥusayn, sent a force of cavalry with orders to bring the arch-rebel to a stand. Retreat was still open to him. But his followers cried out that the blood of Muslim must be avenged, and Ḥusayn could not hesitate. Turning northward along the Euphrates, he encamped at Karbalá with his little band, which, including the women and children, amounted to some two hundred souls. In this hopeless situation he offered terms which might have been accepted if Shamir b. Dhi ’l-Jawshan, a name for ever infamous and accursed, had not persuaded ‘Ubaydulláh to insist on unconditional surrender. The demand was refused, and Ḥusayn drew up his comrades--a handful of men and boys--for battle against the host which surrounded them. All the harrowing details invented by grief and passion can scarcely heighten the tragedy of the closing scene. It would appear that the Umayyad officers themselves shrank from the odium of a general massacre, and hoped to take the Prophet's grandson alive. Shamir, however, had no such scruples. Chafing at delay, he urged his soldiers to the assault. The unequal struggle was soon over. Ḥusayn fell, pierced by an arrow, and his brave followers were cut down beside him to the last man.

[Sidenote: Differing views of Muḥammadan and European writers.]

[Sidenote: The Umayyads judged by Islam.]

[Sidenote: Character of Yazíd.]

Muḥammadan tradition, which with rare exceptions is uniformly hostile to the Umayyad dynasty, regards Ḥusayn as a martyr and Yazíd as his murderer; while modern historians, for the most part, agree with Sir W. Muir, who points out that Ḥusayn, "having yielded himself to a treasonable, though impotent design upon the throne, was committing an offence that endangered society and demanded swift suppression." This was naturally the view of the party in power, and the reader must form his own conclusion as to how far it justifies the action which they took. For Moslems the question is decided by the relation of the Umayyads to Islam. Violators of its laws and spurners of its ideals, they could never be anything but tyrants; and being tyrants, they had no right to slay believers who rose in arms against their usurped authority. The so-called verdict of history, when we come to examine it, is seen to be the verdict of religion, the judgment of theocratic Islam on Arabian Imperialism. On this ground the Umayyads are justly condemned, but it is well to remember that in Moslem eyes the distinction between Church and State does not exist. Yazíd was a bad Churchman: therefore he was a wicked tyrant; the one thing involves the other. From our unprejudiced standpoint, he was an amiable prince who inherited his mother's poetic talent, and infinitely preferred wine, music, and sport to the drudgery of public affairs. The Syrian Arabs, who recognised the Umayyads as legitimate, thought highly of him: "Jucundissimus," says a Christian writer, "et cunctis nationibus regni ejus subditis vir gratissime habitus, qui nullam unquam, ut omnibus moris est, sibi regalis fastigii causa gloriam appetivit, sed communis cum omnibus civiliter vixit."[367] He deplored the fate of the women and children of Ḥusayn's family, treated them with every mark of respect, and sent them to Medína, where their account of the tragedy added fresh fuel to the hatred and indignation with which its authors were generally regarded.

The Umayyads had indeed ample cause to rue the day of Karbalá. It gave the Shí‘ite faction a rallying-cry--"Vengeance for Ḥusayn!"--which was taken up on all sides, and especially by the Persian _Mawálí_, or Clients, who longed for deliverance from the Arab yoke. Their amalgamation with the Shí‘a--a few years later they flocked in thousands to the standard of Mukhtár--was an event of the utmost historical importance, which will be discussed when we come to speak of the Shí‘ites in particular.

[Sidenote: Medína and Mecca desecrated (682-3 A.D.).]

[Sidenote: Rebellion of Mukhtár (685-6 A.D.).]

The slaughter of Ḥusayn does not complete the tale of Yazíd's enormities. Medína, the Prophet's city, having expelled its Umayyad governor, was sacked by a Syrian army, while Mecca itself, where ‘Abdulláh b. Zubayr had set up as rival Caliph, was besieged, and the Ka‘ba laid in ruins. These outrages, shocking to Moslem sentiment, kindled a flame of rebellion. Ḥusayn was avenged by Mukhtár, who seized Kúfa and executed some three hundred of the guilty citizens, including the miscreant Shamir. His troops defeated and slew ‘Ubaydulláh b. Ziyád, but he himself was slain, not long afterwards, by Mus‘ab, the brother of Ibn Zubayr, and seven thousand of his followers were massacred in cold blood. On Yazíd's death (683) the Umayyad Empire threatened to fall to pieces. As a contemporary poet sang--

"Now loathed of all men is the Fury blind Which blazeth as a fire blown by the wind. They are split in sects: each province hath its own Commander of the Faithful, each its throne."[368]

[Sidenote: Civil war renewed.]

[Sidenote: Rivalry of Northern and Southern Arabs.]

Fierce dissensions broke out among the Syrian Arabs, the backbone of the dynasty. The great tribal groups of Kalb and Qays, whose coalition had hitherto maintained the Umayyads in power, fought on opposite sides at Marj Ráhiṭ (684), the former for Marwán and the latter for Ibn Zubayr. Marwán's victory secured the allegiance of Syria, but henceforth Qays and Kalb were always at daggers drawn.[369] This was essentially a feud between the Northern and the Southern Arabs--a feud which rapidly extended and developed into a permanent racial enmity. They carried it with them to the farthest ends of the world, so that, for example, after the conquest of Spain precautions had to be taken against civil war by providing that Northerners and Southerners should not settle in the same districts. The literary history of this antagonism has been sketched by Dr. Goldziher with his wonted erudition and acumen.[370] Satire was, of course, the principal weapon of both sides. Here is a fragment by a Northern poet which belongs to the Umayyad period:--

"Negroes are better, when they name their sires, Than Qaḥṭán's sons,[371] the uncircumcisèd cowards: A folk whom thou mayst see, at war's outflame, More abject than a shoe to tread in baseness; Their women free to every lecher's lust, Their clients spoil for cavaliers and footmen."[372]

Thus the Arab nation was again torn asunder by the old tribal pretensions which Muḥammad sought to abolish. That they ultimately proved fatal to the Umayyads is no matter for surprise; the sorely pressed dynasty was already tottering, its enemies were at its gates. By good fortune it produced at this crisis an exceptionally able and vigorous ruler, ‘Abdu ’l-Malik b. Marwán, who not only saved his house from destruction, but re-established its supremacy and inaugurated a more brilliant epoch than any that had gone before.

[Sidenote: ‘Abdu ’l-Malik and his successors.]

[Sidenote: Reforms of ‘Abdu ’l-Malik.]

[Sidenote: The writing of Arabic.]

[Sidenote: Ḥajjáj b. Yúsuf († 714 A.D.).]

‘Abdu ’l-Malik succeeded his father in 685, but required seven years of hard fighting to make good his claim to the Caliphate. When his most formidable rival, Ibn Zubayr, had fallen in battle (692), the eastern provinces were still overrun by rebels, who offered a desperate resistance to the governor of ‘Iráq, the iron-handed Ḥajjáj. But enough of bloodshed. Peace also had her victories during the troubled reign of ‘Abdu ’l-Malik and the calmer sway of his successors. Four of the next five Caliphs were his own sons--Walíd (705-715), Sulaymán (715-717), Yazíd II (720-724), and Hishám (724-743); the fifth, ‘Umar II, was the son of his brother, ‘Abdu ’l-‘Azíz. For the greater part of this time the Moslem lands enjoyed a well-earned interval of repose and prosperity, which mitigated, though it could not undo, the frightful devastation wrought by twenty years of almost continuous civil war. Many reforms were introduced, some wholly political in character, while others inspired by the same motives have, none the less, a direct bearing on literary history. ‘Abdu ’l-Malik organised an excellent postal service, by means of relays of horses, for the conveyance of despatches and travellers; he substituted for the Byzantine and Persian coins, which had hitherto been in general use, new gold and silver pieces, on which be caused sentences from the Koran to be engraved; and he made Arabic, instead of Greek or Persian, the official language of financial administration. Steps were taken, moreover, to improve the extremely defective Arabic script, and in this way to provide a sound basis for the study and interpretation of the Koran as well as for the collection of _ḥadíths_ or sayings of the Prophet, which form an indispensable supplement thereto. The Arabic alphabet, as it was then written, consisted entirely of consonants, so that, to give an illustration from English, _bnd_ might denote _band_, _bend_, _bind_, or _bond_; _crt_ might stand for _cart_, _carat_, _curt_, and so on. To an Arab this ambiguity mattered little; far worse confusion arose from the circumstance that many of the consonants themselves were exactly alike: thus, _e.g._, it was possible to read the same combination of three letters as _bnt_, _nbt_, _byt_, _tnb_, _ntb_, _nyb_, and in various other ways. Considering the difficulties of the Arabic language, which are so great that a European aided by scientific grammars and unequivocal texts will often find himself puzzled even when he has become tolerably familiar with it, one may imagine that the Koran was virtually a sealed book to all but a few among the crowds of foreigners who accepted Islam after the early conquests. ‘Abdu’l-Malik's viceroy in ‘Iráq, the famous Ḥajjáj, who began life as a schoolmaster, exerted himself to promote the use of vowel-marks (borrowed from the Syriac) and of the diacritical points placed above or below similar consonants. This extraordinary man deserves more than a passing mention. A stern disciplinarian, who could be counted upon to do his duty without any regard to public opinion, he was chosen by ‘Abdu ’l-Malik to besiege Mecca, which Ibn Zubayr was holding as anti-Caliph. Ḥajjáj bombarded the city, defeated the Pretender, and sent his head to Damascus. Two years afterwards he became governor of ‘Iráq. Entering the Mosque at Kúfa, he mounted the pulpit and introduced himself to the assembled townsmen in these memorable words:--

[Sidenote: His service to literature.]

"I am he who scattereth the darkness and climbeth o'er the summits. When I lift the turban from my face, ye will know me.[373]

"O people of Kúfa! I see heads that are ripe for cutting, and I am the man to do it; and methinks, I see blood between the turbans and beards."[374] The rest of his speech was in keeping with the commencement. He used no idle threats, as the malcontents soon found out. Rebellion, which had been rampant before his arrival, was rapidly extinguished. "He restored order in ‘Iráq and subdued its people."[375] For twenty years his despotic rule gave peace and security to the Eastern world. Cruel he may have been, though the tales of his bloodthirstiness are beyond doubt grossly exaggerated, but it should be put to his credit that he established and maintained the settled conditions which afford leisure for the cultivation of learning. Under his protection the Koran and Traditions were diligently studied both in Kúfa and Baṣra, where many Companions of the Prophet had made their home: hence arose in Baṣra the science of Grammar, with which, as we shall see in a subsequent page, the name of that city is peculiarly associated. Ḥajjáj shared the literary tastes of his sovereign; he admired the old poets and patronised the new; he was a master of terse eloquence and plumed himself on his elegant Arabic style. The most hated man of his time, he lives in history as the savage oppressor and butcher of God-fearing Moslems. He served the Umayyads well and faithfully, and when he died in 714 A.D. he left behind him nothing but his Koran, his arms, and a few hundred pieces of silver.

[Sidenote: Walíd (705-715 A.D.).]

[Sidenote: Moslem conquests in the East.]

[Sidenote: Conquest of Spain (711-713 A.D.).]

It was a common saying at Damascus that under Walíd people talked of fine buildings, under Sulaymán of cookery and the fair sex, while in the reign of ‘Umar b. ‘Abd al-‘Azíz the Koran and religion formed favourite topics of conversation.[376] Of Walíd's passion for architecture we have a splendid monument in the Great Mosque of Damascus (originally the Cathedral of St. John), which is the principal sight of the city to this day. He spoke Arabic very incorrectly, and though his father rebuked him, observing that "in order to rule the Arabs one must be proficient in their language," he could never learn to express himself with propriety.[377] The unbroken peace which now prevailed within the Empire enabled Walíd to resume the work of conquest. In the East his armies invaded Transoxania, captured Bokhárá and Samarcand, and pushed forward to the Chinese frontier. Another force crossed the Indus and penetrated as far as Múltán, a renowned centre of pilgrimage in the Southern Punjaub, which fell into the hands of the Moslems after a prolonged siege. But the most brilliant advance, and the richest in its results, was that in the extreme West, which decided the fate of Spain. Although the Moslems had obtained a footing in Northern Africa some thirty years before this time, their position was always precarious, until in 709 Músá b. Nuṣayr completely subjugated the Berbers, and extended not only the dominion but also the faith of Islam to the Atlantic Ocean. Two years later his freedman Ṭáriq crossed the straits and took possession of the commanding height, called by the ancients Calpe, but henceforth known as Jabal Ṭáriq (Gibraltar). Roderic, the last of the West Gothic dynasty, gathered an army in defence of his kingdom, but there were traitors in the camp, and, though he himself fought valiantly, their defection turned the fortunes of the day. The king fled, and it was never ascertained what became of him. Ṭáriq, meeting with feeble resistance, marched rapidly on Toledo, while Músá, whose jealousy was excited by the triumphal progress of his lieutenant, now joined in the campaign, and, storming city after city, reached the Pyrenees. The conquest of Spain, which is told by Moslem historians with many romantic circumstances, marks the nearest approach that the Arabs ever made to World-Empire. Their advance on French soil was finally hurled back by Charles the Hammer's great victory at Tours (732 A.D.).

[Sidenote: ‘Umar b. ‘Abd al-‘Azíz (717-720 A.D.).]

Before taking leave of the Umayyads we must not forget to mention ‘Umar b. ‘Abd al-‘Azíz, a ruler who stands out in singular contrast with his predecessors, and whose brief reign is regarded by many Moslems as the sole bright spot in a century of godless and bloodstained tyranny. There had been nothing like it since the days of his illustrious namesake and kinsman,[378] ‘Umar b. al-Khaṭṭáb, and we shall find nothing like it in the future history of the Caliphate. Plato desired that every king should be a philosopher: according to Muḥammadan theory every Caliph ought to be a saint. ‘Umar satisfied these aspirations. When he came to the throne the following dialogue is said to have occurred between him and one of his favourites, Sálim al-Suddí:--

‘Umar: "Are you glad on account of my accession, or sorry?"

Sálim: "I am glad for the people's sake, but sorry for yours."

‘Umar: "I fear that I have brought perdition upon my soul."

Sálim: "If you are afraid, very good. I only fear that you may cease to be afraid."

‘Umar: "Give me a word of counsel."

Sálim: "Our father Adam was driven forth from Paradise because of one sin."[379]

Poets and orators found no favour at his court, which was thronged by divines and men of ascetic life.[380] He warned his governors that they must either deal justly or go. He would not allow political considerations to interfere with his ideal of righteousness, but, as Wellhausen points out, he had practical ends in view: his piety made him anxious for the common weal no less than for his own salvation. Whether he administered the State successfully is a matter of dispute. It has been generally supposed that his financial reforms were Utopian in character and disastrous to the Exchequer.[381] However this may be, he showed wisdom in seeking to bridge the menacing chasm between Islam and the Imperial house. Thus, _e.g._, he did away with the custom which had long prevailed of cursing ‘Alí from the pulpit at Friday prayers. The policy of conciliation was tried too late, and for too short a space, to be effective; but it was not entirely fruitless. When, on the overthrow of the Umayyad dynasty, the tombs of the hated 'tyrants' were defiled and their bodies disinterred, ‘Umar's grave alone was respected, and Mas‘údí († 956 A.D.) tells us that in his time it was visited by crowds of pilgrims.

[Sidenote: Hishám and Walíd II.]

The remaining Umayyads do not call for particular notice. Hishám ranks as a statesman with Mu‘áwiya and ‘Abdu ’l-Malik: the great ‘Abbásid Caliph, Manṣúr, is said to have admired and imitated his methods of government.[382] Walíd II was an incorrigible libertine, whose songs celebrating the forbidden delights of wine have much merit. The eminent poet and freethinker, Abu ’l-‘Alá al-Ma‘arrí, quotes these verses by him[383]:--

[Sidenote: Verses by Walíd II (743-4 A.D.).]

"The Imám Walíd am I! In all my glory Of trailing robes I listen to soft lays. When proudly I sweep on towards her chamber, I care not who inveighs.

There's no true joy but lending ear to music, Or wine that leaves one sunk in stupor dense. Houris in Paradise I do not look for: Does any man of sense?"

Let us now turn from the monarchs to their subjects.

[Sidenote: Political and religious movements of the period.]

In the first place we shall speak of the political and religious parties, whose opposition to the Umayyad House gradually undermined its influence and in the end brought about its fall. Some account will be given of the ideas for which these parties fought and of the causes of their discontent with the existing _régime_. Secondly, a few words must be said of the theological and more purely religious sects--the Mu‘tazilites, Murjites, and Ṣúfís; and, lastly, of the extant literature, which is almost exclusively poetical, and its leading representatives.

[Sidenote: The Arabs of ‘Iráq.]

The opposition to the Umayyads was at first mainly a question of politics. Mu‘áwiya's accession announced the triumph of Syria over ‘Iráq, and Damascus, instead of Kúfa, became the capital of the Empire. As Wellhausen observes, "the most powerful risings against the Umayyads proceeded from ‘Iráq, not from any special party, but from the whole mass of the Arabs settled there, who were united in resenting the loss of their independence (_Selbstherrlichkeit_) and in hating those into whose hands it had passed."[384] At the same time these feelings took a religious colour and identified themselves with the cause of Islam. The new government fell lamentably short of the theocratic standard by which it was judged. Therefore it was evil, and (according to the Moslem's conception of duty) every right-thinking man must work for its destruction.

Among the myriads striving for this consummation, and so far making common cause with each other, we can distinguish four principal classes.

[Sidenote: Parties opposed to the Umayyad government.]

(1) The religious Moslems, or Pietists, in general, who formed a wing of the Orthodox Party.[385]

(2) The Khárijites, who may be described as the Puritans and extreme Radicals of theocracy.

(3) The Shí‘ites, or partisans of ‘Alí and his House.

(4) The Non-Arabian Moslems, who were called _Mawálí_ (Clients).

[Sidenote: The Pietists.]

It is clear that the Pietists--including divines learned in the law, reciters of the Koran, Companions of the Prophet and their descendants--could not but abominate the secular authority which they were now compelled to obey. The conviction that Might, in the shape of the tyrant and his minions, trampled on Right as represented by the Koran and the _Sunna_ (custom of Muḥammad) drove many into active rebellion: five thousand are said to have perished in the sack of Medína alone. Others again, like Ḥasan of Baṣra, filled with profound despair, shut their eyes on the world, and gave themselves up to asceticism, a tendency which had important consequences, as we shall see.

[Sidenote: The Khárijites.]

[Sidenote: Battle of Nahrawán (658 A.D.).]

[Sidenote: Khárijite risings.]

When ‘Alí, on the field of Ṣiffín, consented that the claims of Mu‘áwiya and himself to the Caliphate should be decided by arbitration, a large section of his army accused him of having betrayed his trust. He, the duly elected Caliph--so they argued--should have maintained the dignity of his high office inviolate at all costs. On the homeward march the malcontents, some twelve thousand in number, broke away and encamped by themselves at Ḥarúrá, a village near Kúfa. Their cry was, "God alone can decide" (_lá ḥukma illá lilláhi_): in these terms they protested against the arbitration. ‘Alí endeavoured to win them back, but without any lasting success. They elected a Caliph from among themselves, and gathered at Nahrawán, four thousand strong. On the appearance of ‘Alí with a vastly superior force many of the rebels dispersed, but the remainder--about half--preferred to die for their faith. Nahrawán was to the Khárijites what Karbalá afterwards became to the Shí‘ites, who from this day were regarded by the former as their chief enemies. Frequent Khárijite risings took place during the early Umayyad period, but the movement reached its zenith in the years of confusion which followed Yazíd's death. The Azraqites, so called after their leader, Náfi‘ b. al-Azraq, overran ‘Iráq and Southern Persia, while another sect, the Najdites, led by Najda b. ‘Ámir, reduced the greater part of Arabia to submission. The insurgents held their ground for a long time against ‘Abdu ’l-Malik, and did not cease from troubling until the rebellion headed by Shabíb was at last stamped out by Ḥajjáj in 697.

[Sidenote: Meaning of 'Khárijite.']

[Sidenote: Their political theories.]

It has been suggested that the name _Khárijí_ (plural, _Khawárij_) refers to a passage in the Koran (iv, 101) where mention is made of "those who go forth (_yakhruj_) from their homes as emigrants (_muhájiran_) to God and His Messenger"; so that 'Khárijite' means 'one who leaves his home among the unbelievers for God's sake,' and corresponds to the term _Muhájir_, which was applied to the Meccan converts who accompanied the Prophet in his migration to Medína.[386] Another name by which they are often designated is likewise Koranic in origin, viz., _Shurát_ (plural of _Shárin_): literally 'Sellers'--that is to say, those who sell their lives and goods in return for Paradise.[387] The Khárijites were mostly drawn from the Bedouin soldiery who settled in Baṣra and Kúfa after the Persian wars. Civil life wrought little change in their unruly temper. Far from acknowledging the peculiar sanctity of a Qurayshite, they desired a chief of their own blood whom they might obey, in Bedouin fashion, as long as he did not abuse or exceed the powers conferred upon him.[388] The mainspring of the movement, however, was pietistic, and can be traced, as Wellhausen has shown, to the Koran-readers who made it a matter of conscience that ‘Alí should avow his contrition for the fatal error which their own temporary and deeply regretted infatuation had forced him to commit. They cast off ‘Alí for the same reason which led them to strike at ‘Uthman: in both cases they were maintaining the cause of God against an unjust Caliph.[389] It is important to remember these facts in view of the cardinal Khárijite doctrines (1) that every free Arab was eligible as Caliph,[390] and (2) that an evil-doing Caliph must be deposed and, if necessary, put to death. Mustawrid b. ‘Ullifa, the Khárijite 'Commander of the Faithful,' wrote to Simák b. ‘Ubayd, the governor of Ctesiphon, as follows: "We call you to the Book of God Almighty and Glorious, and to the _Sunna_ (custom) of the Prophet--on whom be peace!--and to the administration of Abú Bakr and ‘Umar--may God be well pleased with them!--and to renounce ‘Uthmán and ‘Alí because they corrupted the true religion and abandoned the authority of the Book."[391] From this it appears that the Khárijite programme was simply the old Islam of equality and fraternity, which had never been fully realised and was now irretrievably ruined. Theoretically, all devout Moslems shared in the desire for its restoration and condemned the existing Government no less cordially than did the Khárijites. What distinguished the latter party was the remorseless severity with which they carried their principles into action. To them it was absolutely vital that the Imám, or head of the community, should rule in the name and according to the will of God: those who followed any other sealed their doom in the next world: eternal salvation hung upon the choice of a successor to the Prophet. Moslems who refused to execrate ‘Uthmán and ‘Alí were the worst of infidels; it was the duty of every true believer to take part in the Holy War against such, and to kill them, together with their wives and children. These atrocities recoiled upon the insurgents, who soon found themselves in danger of extermination. Milder counsels began to prevail. Thus the Ibáḍites (followers of ‘Abdulláh b. Ibáḍ) held it lawful to live amongst the Moslems and mix with them on terms of mutual tolerance. But compromise was in truth incompatible with the _raison d'être_ of the Khárijites, namely, to establish the kingdom of God upon the earth. This meant virtual anarchy: "their unbending logic shattered every constitution which it set up." As ‘Alí remarked, "they say, 'No government' (_lá imára_), but there must be a government, good or bad."[392] Nevertheless, it was a noble ideal for which they fought in pure devotion, having, unlike the other political parties, no worldly interests to serve.

[Sidenote: Their religion.]

The same fierce spirit of fanaticism moulded their religious views, which were gloomy and austere, as befitted the chosen few in an ungodly world. Shahrastání, speaking of the original twelve thousand who rebelled against ‘Alí, describes them as 'people of fasting and prayer' (_ahlu ṣiyámin wa-ṣalátin_).[393] The Koran ruled their lives and possessed their imaginations, so that the history of the early Church, the persecutions, martyrdoms, and triumphs of the Faith became a veritable drama which was being enacted by themselves. The fear of hell kindled in them an inquisitorial zeal for righteousness. They scrupulously examined their own belief as well as that of their neighbours, and woe to him that was found wanting! A single false step involved excommunication from the pale of Islam, and though the slip might be condoned on proof of sincere repentance, any Moslem who had once committed a mortal sin (_kabíra_) was held, by the stricter Khárijites at least, to be inevitably damned with the infidels in everlasting fire.

[Sidenote: Khárijite poetry.]

Much might be written, if space allowed, concerning the wars of the Khárijites, their most famous chiefs, the points on which they quarrelled, and the sects into which they split. Here we can only attempt to illustrate the general character of the movement. We have touched on its political and religious aspects, and shall now conclude with some reference to its literary side. The Khárijites did not produce a Milton or a Bunyan, but as Arabs of Bedouin stock they had a natural gift of song, from which they could not be weaned; although, according to the strict letter of the Koran, poetry is a devilish invention improper for the pious Moslem to meddle with. But these are poems of a different order from the pagan odes, and breathe a stern religious enthusiasm that would have gladdened the Prophet's heart. Take, for example, the following verses, which were made by a Khárijite in prison:--[394]

"'Tis time, O ye Sellers, for one who hath sold himself To God, that he should arise and saddle amain. Fools! in the land of miscreants will ye abide, To be hunted down, every man of you, and to be slain? O would that I were among you, armèd in mail, On the back of my stout-ribbed galloping war-horse again! And would that I were among you, fighting your foes, That me, first of all, they might give death's beaker to drain! It grieves me sore that ye are startled and chased Like beasts, while I cannot draw on the wretches profane My sword, nor see them scattered by noble knights Who never yield an inch of the ground they gain, But where the struggle is hottest, with keen blades hew Their strenuous way and deem 'twere base to refrain. Ay, it grieves me sore that ye are oppressed and wronged, While I must drag in anguish a captive's chain."

[Sidenote: Qaṭarí b. al-Fujá’a.]

Qaṭarí b. al-Fujá’a, the intrepid Khárijite leader who routed army after army sent against him by Ḥajjáj, sang almost as well as he fought. The verses rendered below are included in the _Ḥamása_[395] and cited by Ibn Khallikán, who declares that they would make a brave man of the greatest coward in the world. "I know of nothing on the subject to be compared with them; they could only have proceeded from a spirit that scorned disgrace and from a truly Arabian sentiment of valour."[396]

"I say to my soul dismayed-- 'Courage! Thou canst not achieve, With praying, an hour of life Beyond the appointed term. Then courage on death's dark field, Courage! Impossible 'tis To live for ever and aye. Life is no hero's robe Of honour: the dastard vile Also doffs it at last.'"

[Sidenote: The Shí‘ites.]

[Sidenote: The theory of Divine Right.]

The murder of ‘Uthmán broke the Moslem community, which had hitherto been undivided, into two _shí‘as_, or parties--one for ‘Alí and the other for Mu‘áwiya. When the latter became Caliph he was no longer a party leader, but head of the State, and his _shí‘a_ ceased to exist. Henceforth 'the Shí‘a' _par excellence_ was the party of ‘Alí, which regarded the House of the Prophet as the legitimate heirs to the succession. Not content, however, with upholding ‘Alí, as the worthiest of the Prophet's Companions and the duly elected Caliph, against his rival, Mu‘áwiya, the bolder spirits took up an idea, which emerged about this time, that the Caliphate belonged to ‘Alí and his descendants by Divine right. Such is the distinctive doctrine of the Shí‘ites to the present day. It is generally thought to have originated in Persia, where the Sásánian kings used to assume the title of 'god' (Pahlaví _bagh_) and were looked upon as successive incarnations of the Divine majesty.

[Sidenote: Dozy's account of its origin.]

"Although the Shí‘ites," says Dozy, "often found themselves under the direction of Arab leaders, who utilised them in order to gain some personal end, they were nevertheless a Persian sect at bottom; and it is precisely here that the difference most clearly showed itself between the Arab race, which loves liberty, and the Persian race, accustomed to slavish submission. For the Persians, the principle of electing the Prophet's successor was something unheard of and incomprehensible. The only principle which they recognised was that of inheritance, and since Muḥammad left no sons, they thought that his son-in-law ‘Alí should have succeeded him, and that the sovereignty was hereditary in his family. Consequently, all the Caliphs except ‘Alí--_i.e._, Abú Bakr, ‘Umar, and ‘Uthmán, as well as the Umayyads--were in their eyes usurpers to whom no obedience was due. The hatred which they felt for the Government and for Arab rule confirmed them in this opinion; at the same time they cast covetous looks on the wealth of their masters. Habituated, moreover, to see in their kings the descendants of the inferior divinities, they transferred this idolatrous veneration to ‘Alí and his posterity. Absolute obedience to the Imám of ‘Alí's House was in their eyes the most important duty; if that were fulfilled all the rest might be interpreted allegorically and violated without scruple. For them the Imám was everything; he was God made man. A servile submission accompanied by immorality was the basis of their system."[397]

[Sidenote: The Saba’ites.]

[Sidenote: Doctrine of Ibn Sabá.]

Now, the Shí‘ite theory of Divine Right certainly harmonised with Persian ideas, but was it also of Persian origin? On the contrary, it seems first to have arisen among an obscure Arabian sect, the Saba’ites, whose founder, ‘Abdulláh b. Sabá (properly, Saba’), was a native of Ṣan‘á in Yemen, and is said to have been a Jew.[398] In ‘Uthmán's time he turned Moslem and became, apparently, a travelling missionary. "He went from place to place," says the historian, "seeking to lead the Moslems into error."[399] We hear of him in the Ḥijáz, then in Baṣra and Kúfa, then in Syria. Finally he settled in Egypt, where he preached the doctrine of palingenesis (_raj‘a_). "It is strange indeed," he exclaimed, "that any one should believe in the return of Jesus (as Messias), and deny the return of Muḥammad, which God has announced (Kor. xxviii, 85).[400] Furthermore, there are a thousand Prophets, every one of whom has an executor (_waṣí_), and the executor of Muḥammad is ‘Alí.[401] Muḥammad is the last of the Prophets, and ‘Alí is the last of the executors." Ibn Sabá, therefore, regarded Abú Bakr, ‘Umar, and ‘Uthmán as usurpers. He set on foot a widespread conspiracy in favour of ‘Alí, and carried on a secret correspondence with the disaffected in various provinces of the Empire.[402] According to Shahrastání, he was banished by ‘Alí for saying, "Thou art thou" (_anta anta_), _i.e._, "Thou art God."[403] This refers to the doctrine taught by Ibn Sabá and the extreme Shí‘ites (_Ghulát_) who derive from him, that the Divine Spirit which dwells in every prophet and passes successively from one to another was transfused, at Muḥammad's death, into ‘Alí, and from ‘Alí into his descendants who succeeded him in the Imámate. The Saba’ites also held that the Imám might suffer a temporary occultation (_ghayba_), but that one day he would return and fill the earth with justice. They believed the millennium to be near at hand, so that the number of Imáms was at first limited to four. Thus the poet Kuthayyir († 723 A.D.) says:--

"Four complete are the Imáms ‘Alí and his three good sons, One was faithful and devout; One, until with waving flags Dwells on Mount Raḍwá, concealed: of Quraysh, the lords of Right: each of them a shining light. Karbalá hid one from sight; his horsemen he shall lead to fight, honey he drinks and water bright."[404]

[Sidenote: The Mahdí or Messiah.]

The Messianic idea is not peculiar to the Shí‘ites, but was brought into Islam at an early period by Jewish and Christian converts, and soon established itself as a part of Muḥammadan belief. Traditions ascribed to the Prophet began to circulate, declaring that the approach of the Last Judgment would be heralded by a time of tumult and confusion, by the return of Jesus, who would slay the Antichrist (_Dajjál_), and finally by the coming of the Mahdí, _i.e._, 'the God-guided one,' who would fill the earth with justice even as it was then filled with violence and iniquity. This expectation of a Deliverer descended from the Prophet runs through the whole history of the Shí‘a. As we have seen, their supreme religious chiefs were the Imáms of ‘Alí's House, each of whom transmitted his authority to his successor. In the course of time disputes arose as to the succession. One sect acknowledged only seven legitimate Imáms, while another carried the number to twelve. The last Imám of the 'Seveners' (_al-Sab‘iyya_), who are commonly called Ismá‘ílís, was Muḥammad b. Ismá‘íl, and of the 'Twelvers' (_al-Ithná-‘ashariyya_) Muḥammad b. al-Ḥasan.[405] Both those personages vanished mysteriously about 770 and 870 A.D., and their respective followers, refusing to believe that they were dead, asserted that their Imám had withdrawn himself for a season from mortal sight, but that he would surely return at last as the promised Mahdí. It would take a long while to enumerate all the pretenders and fanatics who have claimed this title.[406] Two of them founded the Fáṭimid and Almohade dynasties, which we shall mention elsewhere, but they generally died on the gibbet or the battle-field. The ideal which they, so to speak, incarnated did not perish with them. Mahdiism, the faith in a divinely appointed revolution which will sweep away the powers of evil and usher in a Golden Age of justice and truth such as the world has never known, is a present and inspiring fact which deserves to be well weighed by those who doubt the possibility of an Islamic Reformation.

[Sidenote: Shí‘ite gatherings at Karbalá.]

The Shí‘a began as a political faction, but it could not remain so for any length of time, because in Islam politics always tend to take religious ground, just as the successful religious reformer invariably becomes a ruler. The Saba’ites furnished the Shí‘ite movement with a theological basis; and the massacre of Ḥusayn, followed by Mukhtár's rebellion, supplied the indispensable element of enthusiasm. Within a few years after the death of Ḥusayn his grave at Karbalá was already a place of pilgrimage for the Shí‘ites. When the 'Penitents' (_al-Tawwábún_) revolted in 684 they repaired thither and lifted their voices simultaneously in a loud wail, and wept, and prayed God that He would forgive them for having deserted the Prophet's grandson in his hour of need. "O God!" exclaimed their chief, "have mercy on Ḥusayn, the Martyr and the son of a Martyr, the Mahdí and the son of a Mahdí, the Ṣiddíq and the son of a Ṣiddíq![407] O God! we bear witness that we follow their religion and their path, and that we are the foes of their slayers and the friends of those who love them."[408] Here is the germ of the _ta‘ziyas_, or Passion Plays, which are acted every year on the 10th of Muḥarram, wherever Shí‘ites are to be found.

[Sidenote: Mukhtár.]

But the Moses of the Shí‘a, the man who showed them the way to victory although he did not lead them to it, is undoubtedly Mukhtár. He came forward in the name of ‘Alí's son, Muḥammad, generally known as Ibnu ’l-Ḥanafiyya after his mother. Thus he gained the support of the Arabian Shí‘ites, properly so called, who were devoted to ‘Alí and his House, and laid no stress upon the circumstance of descent from the Prophet, whereas the Persian adherents of the Shí‘a made it a vital matter, and held accordingly that only the sons of ‘Alí by his wife Fáṭima were fully qualified Imáms. Raising the cry of vengeance for Ḥusayn, Mukhtár carried this party also along with him. In 686 he found himself master of Kúfa. Neither the result of his triumph nor the rapid overthrow of his power concerns us here, but something must be said about the aims and character of the movement which he headed.

[Sidenote: The _Mawálí_ of Kúfa.]

"More than half the population of Kúfa was composed of _Mawálí_ (Clients), who monopolised handicraft, trade, and commerce. They were mostly Persians in race and language; they had come to Kúfa as prisoners of war and had there passed over to Islam: then they were manumitted by their owners and received as clients into the Arab tribes, so that they now occupied an ambiguous position (_Zwitterstellung_), being no longer slaves, but still very dependent on their patrons; needing their protection, bound to their service, and forming their retinue in peace and war. In these _Mawálí_, who were entitled by virtue of Islam to more than the 'dominant Arabism' allowed them, the hope now dawned of freeing themselves from clientship and of rising to full and direct participation in the Moslem state."[409]

[Sidenote: Mukhtár and the _Mawálí_.]

[Sidenote: Persian influence on the Shí‘a.]

Mukhtár, though himself an Arab of noble family, trusted the _Mawálí_ and treated them as equals, a proceeding which was bitterly resented by the privileged class. "You have taken away our clients who are the booty which God bestowed upon us together with this country. We emancipated them, hoping to receive the Divine recompense and reward, but you would not rest until you made them sharers in our booty."[410] Mukhtár was only giving the _Mawálí_ their due--they were Moslems and had the right, as such, to a share in the revenues. To the haughty Arabs, however, it appeared a monstrous thing that the despised foreigners should be placed on the same level with themselves. Thus Mukhtár was thrown into the arms of the _Mawálí_, and the movement now became not so much anti-Umayyad as anti-Arabian. Here is the turning-point in the history of the Shí‘a. Its ranks were swelled by thousands of Persians imbued with the extreme doctrines of the Saba’ites which have been sketched above, and animated by the intense hatred of a downtrodden people towards their conquerors and oppressors. Consequently the Shí‘a assumed a religious and enthusiastic character, and struck out a new path which led it farther and farther from the orthodox creed. The doctrine of 'Interpretation' (_Ta’wíl_) opened the door to all sorts of extravagant ideas. One of the principal Shí‘ite sects, the Háshimiyya, held that "there is an esoteric side to everything external, a spirit to every form, a hidden meaning (_ta’wíl_) to every revelation, and to every similitude in this world a corresponding reality in the other world; that ‘Alí united in his own person the knowledge of all mysteries and communicated it to his son Muḥammad Ibnu ’l-Ḥanafiyya, who passed it on to his son Abú Háshim; and that the possessor of this universal knowledge is the true Imám."[411] So, without ceasing to be Moslems in name, the Shí‘ites transmuted Islam into whatever shape they pleased by virtue of a mystical interpretation based on the infallible authority of the House of Muḥammad, and out of the ruins of a political party there gradually arose a great religious organisation in which men of the most diverse opinions could work together for deliverance from the Umayyad yoke. The first step towards this development was made by Mukhtár, a versatile genius who seems to have combined the parts of political adventurer, social reformer, prophet, and charlatan. He was crushed and his Persian allies were decimated, but the seed which he had sown bore an abundant harvest when, sixty years later, Abú Muslim unfurled the black standard of the ‘Abbásids in Khurásán.

[Sidenote: The oldest theological sects.]

Concerning the origin of the oldest theological sects in Islam, the Murjites and the Mu‘tazilites, we possess too little contemporary evidence to make a positive statement. It is probable that the latter at any rate arose, as Von Kremer has suggested, under the influence of Greek theologians, especially John of Damascus and his pupil, Theodore Abucara (Abú Qurra), the Bishop of Ḥarrán.[412] Christians were freely admitted to the Umayyad court. The Christian al-Akhṭal was poet-laureate, while many of his co-religionists held high offices in the Government. Moslems and Christians exchanged ideas in friendly discussion or controversially. Armed with the hair-splitting weapons of Byzantine theology, which they soon learned to use only too well, the Arabs proceeded to try their edge on the dogmas of Islam.

[Sidenote: The Murjites.]

The leading article of the Murjite creed was this, that no one who professed to believe in the One God could be declared an infidel, whatever sins he might commit, until God Himself had given judgment against him.[413] The Murjites were so called because they deferred (_arja’a_ = to defer) their decision in such cases and left the sinner's fate in suspense, so long as it was doubtful.[414] This principle they applied in different ways. For example, they refused to condemn ‘Alí and ‘Uthmán outright, as the Khárijites did. "Both ‘Alí and ‘Uthmán," they said, "were servants of God, and by God alone must they be judged; it is not for us to pronounce either of them an infidel, notwithstanding that they rent the Moslem people asunder."[415] On the other hand, the Murjites equally rejected the pretensions made by the Shí‘ites on behalf of ‘Alí and by the Umayyads on behalf of Mu‘áwiya. For the most part they maintained a neutral attitude towards the Umayyad Government: they were passive resisters, content, as Wellhausen puts it, "to stand up for the impersonal Law." Sometimes, however, they turned the principle of toleration against their rulers. Thus Ḥárith b. Surayj and other Arabian Murjites joined the oppressed _Mawálí_ of Khurásán to whom the Government denied those rights which they had acquired by conversion.[416] According to the Murjite view, these Persians, having professed Islam, should no longer be treated as tax-paying infidels. The Murjites brought the same tolerant spirit into religion. They set faith above works, emphasised the love and goodness of God, and held that no Moslem would be damned everlastingly. Some, like Jahm b. Ṣafwán, went so far as to declare that faith (_ímán_) was merely an inward conviction: a man might openly profess Christianity or Judaism or any form of unbelief without ceasing to be a good Moslem, provided only that he acknowledged Allah with his heart.[417] The moderate school found their most illustrious representative in Abú Ḥanífa († 767 A.D.), and through this great divine--whose followers to-day are counted by millions--their liberal doctrines were diffused and perpetuated.

[Sidenote: The Mu‘tazilites.]

During the Umayyad period Baṣra was the intellectual capital of Islam, and in that city we find the first traces of a sect which maintained the principle that thought must be free in the search for truth. The origin of the Mu‘tazilites (_al-Mu‘tazila_), as they are generally called, takes us back to the famous divine and ascetic, Ḥasan of Baṣra (†728 A.D.). One day he was asked to give his opinion on a point regarding which the Murjites and the Khárijites held opposite views, namely, whether those who had committed a great sin should be deemed believers or unbelievers. While Ḥasan was considering the question, one of his pupils, Wáṣil b. ‘Aṭá (according to another tradition, ‘Amr b. ‘Ubayd) replied that such persons were neither believers nor unbelievers, but should be ranked in an intermediate state. He then turned aside and began to explain the grounds of his assertion to a group which gathered about him in a different part of the mosque. Ḥasan said: "Wáṣil has separated himself from us" (_i‘tazala ‘anná_); and on this account the followers of Wáṣil were named 'Mu‘tazilites,' _i.e._, Schismatics. Although the story may not be literally true, it is probably safe to assume that the new sect originated in Baṣra among the pupils of Ḥasan,[418] who was the life and soul of the religious movement of the first century A.H. The Mu‘tazilite heresy, in its earliest form, is connected with the doctrine of Predestination. On this subject the Koran speaks with two voices. Muḥammad was anything but a logically exact and consistent thinker. He was guided by the impulse of the moment, and neither he nor his hearers perceived, as later Moslems did, that the language of the Koran is often contradictory. Thus in the present instance texts which imply the moral responsibility of man for his actions--_e.g._, "_Every soul is in pledge_ (with God) _for what it hath wrought_"[419]; "_Whoso does good benefits himself, and whoso does evil does it against himself_"[420]--stand side by side with others which declare that God leads men aright or astray, as He pleases; that the hearts of the wicked are sealed and their ears made deaf to the truth; and that they are certainly doomed to perdition. This fatalistic view prevailed in the first century of Islam, and the dogma of Predestination was almost universally accepted. Ibn Qutayba, however, mentions the names of twenty-seven persons who held the opinion that men's actions are free.[421] Two among them, Ma‘bad al-Juhaní and Abú Marwán Ghaylán, who were put to death by ‘Abdu ’l-Malik and his son Hishám, do not appear to have been condemned as heretics, but rather as enemies of the Umayyad Government.[422] The real founder of the Mu‘tazilites was Wáṣil b. ‘Aṭá († 748 A.D.),[423] who added a second cardinal doctrine to that of free-will. He denied the existence of the Divine attributes--Power, Wisdom, Life, &c.--on the ground that such qualities, if conceived as eternal, would destroy the Unity of God. Hence the Mu‘tazilites called themselves 'the partisans of Unity and Justice' (_Ahlu’l-tawḥíd wa-’l-‘adl_): of Unity for the reason which has been explained, and of Justice, because they held that God was not the author of evil and that He would not punish His creatures except for actions within their control. The further development of these Rationalistic ideas belongs to the ‘Abbásid period and will be discussed in a subsequent chapter.

[Sidenote: Growth of asceticism.]

[Sidenote: Ḥasan of Baṣra.]

The founder of Islam had too much human nature and common sense to demand of his countrymen such mortifying austerities as were practised by the Jewish Essenes and the Christian monks. His religion was not without ascetic features, _e.g._, the Fast of Ramaḍán, the prohibition of wine, and the ordinance of the pilgrimage, but these can scarcely be called unreasonable. On the other hand Muḥammad condemned celibacy not only by his personal example but also by precept. "There is no monkery in Islam," he is reported to have said, and there was in fact nothing of the kind for more than a century after his death. During this time, however, asceticism made great strides. It was the inevitable outcome of the Muḥammadan conception of Allah, in which the attributes of mercy and love are overshadowed by those of majesty, awe, and vengeance. The terrors of Judgment Day so powerfully described in the Koran were realised with an intensity of conviction which it is difficult for us to imagine. As Goldziher has observed, an exaggerated consciousness of sin and the dread of Divine punishment gave the first impulse to Moslem asceticism. Thus we read that Tamím al-Dárí, one of the Prophet's Companions, who was formerly a Christian, passed the whole night until daybreak, repeating a single verse of the Koran (xlv, 20)--"_Do those who work evil think that We shall make them even as those who believe and do good, so that their life and death shall be equal? Ill do they judge!_"[424] Abu ’l-Dardá, another of the Companions, used to say: "If ye knew what ye shall see after death, ye would not eat food nor drink water from appetite, and I wish that I were a tree which is lopped and then devoured."[425] There were many who shared these views, and their determination to renounce the world and to live solely for God was strengthened by their disgust with a tyrannical and impious Government, and by the almost uninterrupted spectacle of bloodshed, rapine, and civil war. Ḥasan of Baṣra († 728)--we have already met him in connection with the Mu‘tazilites--is an outstanding figure in this early ascetic movement, which proceeded on orthodox lines.[426] Fear of God seized on him so mightily that, in the words of his biographer, "it seemed as though Hell-fire had been created for him alone."[427] All who looked on his face thought that he must have been recently overtaken by some great calamity.[428] One day a friend saw him weeping and asked him the cause. "I weep," he replied, "for fear that I have done something unwittingly and unintentionally, or committed some fault, or spoken some word which is unpleasing to God: then He may have said, 'Begone, for now thou hast no more honour in My court, and henceforth I will not receive anything from thee.'"[429] Al-Mubarrad relates that two monks, coming from Syria, entered Baṣra and looked at Ḥasan, whereupon one said to the other, "Let us turn aside to visit this man, whose way of life appears like that of the Messiah." So they went, and they found him supporting his chin on the palm of his hand, while he was saying--"How I marvel at those who have been ordered to lay in a stock of provisions and have been summoned to set out on a journey, and yet the foremost of them stays for the hindermost! Would that I knew what they are waiting for!"[430] The following utterances are characteristic:--

"God hath made fasting a hippodrome (place or time of training) for His servants, that they may race towards obedience to Him.[431] Some come in first and win the prize, while others are left behind and return disappointed; and by my life, if the lid were removed, the well-doer would be diverted by his well-doing, and the evildoer by his evil-doing, from wearing new garments or from anointing his hair."[432]

"You meet one of them with white skin and delicate complexion, speeding along the path of vanity: he shaketh his hips and clappeth his sides and saith, 'Here am I, recognise me!' Yes, we recognise thee, and thou art hateful to God and hateful to good men."[433]

"The bounties of God are too numerous to be acknowledged unless with His help, and the sins of Man are too numerous for him to escape therefrom unless God pardon them."[434]

"The wonder is not how the lost were lost, but how the saved were saved."[435]

"Cleanse ye these hearts (by meditation and remembrance of God), for they are quick to rust; and restrain ye these souls, for they desire eagerly, and if ye restrain them not, they will drag you to an evil end."[436]

[Sidenote: Ḥasan of Baṣra not a genuine Ṣúfí.]

The Ṣúfís, concerning whom we shall say a few words presently, claim Ḥasan as one of themselves, and with justice in so far as he attached importance to spiritual righteousness, and was not satisfied with merely external acts of devotion. "A grain of genuine piety," he declared, "is better than a thousandfold weight of fasting and prayer."[437] But although some of his sayings which are recorded in the later biographies lend colour to the fiction that he was a full-blown Ṣúfí, there can be no doubt that his mysticism--if it deserves that name--was of the most moderate type, entirely lacking the glow and exaltation which we find in the saintly woman, Rábi‘a al-‘Adawiyya, with whom legend associates him.[438]

[Sidenote: The derivation of 'Ṣúfí.']

[Sidenote: The beginnings of Ṣúfiism.]

The origin of the name 'Ṣúfí' is explained by the Ṣúfís themselves in many different ways, but of the derivations which have been proposed only three possess any claim to consideration, viz., those which connect it with σοφός (wise) or with _ṣafá_ (purity) or with _ṣúf_ (wool).[439] The first two are inadmissible on linguistic grounds, into which we need not enter, though it may be remarked that the derivation from _ṣafá_ is consecrated by the authority of the Ṣúfí Saints, and is generally accepted in the East.[440] The reason for this preference appears in such definitions as "The Ṣúfí is he who keeps his heart pure (_ṣáfí_) with God,"[441] "Ṣúfiism is 'the being chosen for purity' (_iṣṭifá_): whoever is thus chosen and made pure from all except God is the true Ṣúfí."[442] Understood in this sense, the word had a lofty significance which commended it to the elect. Nevertheless it can be tracked to a quite humble source. Woollen garments were frequently worn by men of ascetic life in the early times of Islam in order (as Ibn Khaldún says) that they might distinguish themselves from those who affected a more luxurious fashion of dress. Hence the name 'Ṣúfí,' which denotes in the first instance an ascetic clad in wool (_ṣúf_), just as the Capuchins owed their designation to the hood (_cappuccio_) which they wore. According to Qushayrí, the term came into common use before the end of the second century of the Hijra (= 815 A.D.). By this time, however, the ascetic movement in Islam had to some extent assumed a new character, and the meaning of 'Ṣúfí,' if the word already existed, must have undergone a corresponding change. It seems to me not unlikely that the epithet in question marks the point of departure from orthodox asceticism and that, as Jámí states, it was first applied to Abú Háshim of Kúfa (_ob._ before 800 _A.D._), who founded a monastery (_khánaqáh_) for Ṣúfís at Ramla in Palestine. Be that as it may, the distinction between asceticism (_zuhd_) and Ṣúfiism--a distinction which answers, broadly speaking, to the _via purgativa_ and the _via illuminativa_ of Western mediæval mysticism--begins to show itself before the close of the Umayyad period, and rapidly develops in the early ‘Abbásid age under the influence of foreign ideas and, in particular, of Greek philosophy. Leaving this later development to be discussed in a subsequent chapter, we shall now briefly consider the origin of Ṣúfiism properly so called and the first manifestation of the peculiar tendencies on which it is based.

As regards its origin, we cannot do better than quote the observations with which Ibn Khaldún († 1406 A.D.) introduces the chapter on Ṣúfiism in the Prolegomena to his great historical work:--

[Sidenote: Ibn Khaldún's account of the origin of Ṣúfiism.]

"This is one of the religious sciences which were born in Islam. The way of the Ṣúfís was regarded by the ancient Moslems and their illustrious men--the Companions of the Prophet (_al-Ṣaḥába_), the Successors (_al-Tábi‘ún_), and the generation which came after them--as the way of Truth and Salvation. To be assiduous in piety, to give up all else for God's sake, to turn away from worldly gauds and vanities, to renounce pleasure, wealth, and power, which are the general objects of human ambition, to abandon society and to lead in seclusion a life devoted solely to the service of God--these were the fundamental principles of Ṣúfiism which prevailed among the Companions and the Moslems of old time. When, however, in the second generation and afterwards worldly tastes became widely spread, and men no longer shrank from such contamination, those who made piety their aim were distinguished by the title of _Ṣúfís_ or _Mutaṣawwifa_ (aspirants to Ṣúfiism).[443]

[Sidenote: The earliest form of Ṣúfiism.]

From this it is clear that Ṣúfiism, if not originally identical with the ascetic revolt of which, as we have seen, Ḥasan of Baṣra was the most conspicuous representative, at any rate arose out of that movement. It was not a speculative system, like the Mu‘tazilite heresy, but a practical religion and rule of life. "We derived Ṣúfiism," said Junayd, "from fasting and taking leave of the world and breaking familiar ties and renouncing what men deem good; not from disputation" (_qíl wa-qál_).[444] The oldest Ṣúfís were ascetics and hermits, but they were also something more. They brought out the spiritual and mystical element in Islam, or brought it in, if they did not find it there already.

[Sidenote: The difference between asceticism and Ṣúfiism.]

"Ṣúfiism," says Suhrawardí,[445] "is neither 'poverty' (_faqr_) nor asceticism (_zuhd_), but a term which comprehends the ideas of both, together with something besides. Without these superadded qualities a man is not a Ṣúfí, though he may be an ascetic (_záhid_) or a fakír (_faqír_). It is said that, notwithstanding the excellence of 'poverty,' the end thereof is only the beginning of Ṣúfiism." A little further on he explains the difference thus:--

"The fakír holds fast to his 'poverty' and is profoundly convinced of its superior merit. He prefers it to riches because he longs for the Divine recompense of which his faith assures him ... and whenever he contemplates the everlasting reward, he abstains from the fleeting joys of this world and embraces poverty and indigence and fears that if he should cease to be 'poor' he will lose both the merit and the prize. Now this is absolutely unsound according to the doctrine of the Ṣúfís, because he hopes for recompense and renounces the world on that account, whereas the Ṣúfí does not renounce it for the sake of promised rewards but, on the contrary, for the sake of present 'states,' for he is the 'son of his time.'...[446] The theory that 'poverty' is the foundation of Ṣúfiism signifies that the diverse stages of Ṣúfiism are reached by the road of 'poverty'; it does not imply that the Ṣúfí is essentially a fakír."

[Sidenote: The early Ṣúfís.]

The keynote of Ṣúfiism is disinterested, selfless devotion, in a word, Love. Though not wholly strange, this idea was very far from being familiar to pious Muḥammadans, who were more deeply impressed by the power and vengeance of God than by His goodness and mercy. The Koran generally represents Allah as a stern, unapproachable despot, requiring utter submission to His arbitrary will, but infinitely unconcerned with human feelings and aspirations. Such a Being could not satisfy the religious instinct, and the whole history of Ṣúfiism is a protest against the unnatural divorce between God and Man which this conception involves. Accordingly, I do not think that we need look beyond Islam for the origin of the Ṣúfí doctrines, although it would be a mistake not to recognise the part which Christian influence must have had in shaping their early development. The speculative character with which they gradually became imbued, and which in the course of time completely transformed them, was more or less latent during the Umayyad period and for nearly a century after the accession of the House of ‘Abbás. The early Ṣúfís are still on orthodox ground: their relation to Islam is not unlike that of the mediæval Spanish mystics to the Roman Catholic Church. They attach extraordinary value to certain points in Muḥammad's teaching and emphasise them so as to leave the others almost a dead letter. They do not indulge in profound dialectic, but confine themselves to matters bearing on practical theology. Self-abandonment, rigorous self-mortification, fervid piety, and quietism carried to the verge of apathy form the main features of their creed.

[Sidenote: Ibráhím b. Adham.]

A full and vivid picture of early Ṣúfiism might be drawn from the numerous biographies in Arabic and Persian, which supply abundant details concerning the manner of life of these Muḥammadan Saints, and faithfully record their austerities, visions, miracles, and sayings. Here we have only space to add a few lines about the most important members of the group--Ibráhím b. Adham, Abú ‘Alí Shaqíq, Fuḍayl b. ‘Iyáḍ, and Rábi‘a--all of whom died between the middle and end of the second century after the Hijra (767-815 A.D.). Ibráhím belonged to the royal family of Balkh. Forty scimitars of gold and forty maces of gold were borne in front of him and behind. One day, while hunting, he heard a voice which cried, "Awake! wert thou created for this?" He exchanged his splendid robes for the humble garb and felt cap of a shepherd, bade farewell to his kingdom, and lived for nine years in a cave near Naysábúr.[447] His customary prayer was, "O God, uplift me from the shame of disobedience to the glory of submission unto Thee!"

"O God!" he said, "Thou knowest that the Eight Paradises are little beside the honour which Thou hast done unto me, and beside Thy love, and beside Thy giving me intimacy with the praise of Thy name, and beside the peace of mind which Thou hast given me when I meditate on Thy majesty." And again: "You will not attain to righteousness until you traverse six passes (_‘aqabát_): the first is that you shut the door of pleasure and open the door of hardship; the second, that you shut the door of eminence and open the door of abasement; the third, that you shut the door of ease and open the door of affliction; the fourth, that you shut the door of sleep and open the door of wakefulness; the fifth, that you shut the door of riches and open the door of poverty; and the sixth, that you shut the door of expectation and open the door of making yourself ready for death."

[Sidenote: Shaqíq of Balkh.]

[Sidenote: Fuḍayl b. ‘Iyáḍ.]

[Sidenote: Rábi‘a al-‘Adawiyya.]

Shaqíq, also of Balkh, laid particular stress on the duty of leaving one's self entirely in God's hands (_tawakkul_), a term which is practically synonymous with passivity; _e.g._, the _mutawakkil_ must make no effort to obtain even the barest livelihood, he must not ask for anything, nor engage in any trade: his business is with God alone. One of Shaqíq's sayings was, "Nine-tenths of devotion consist in flight from mankind, the remaining tenth in silence." Similarly, Fuḍayl b. ‘Iyáḍ, a converted captain of banditti, declared that "to abstain for men's sake from doing anything is hypocrisy, while to do anything for men's sake is idolatry." It may be noticed as an argument against the Indian origin of Ṣúfiism that although the three Ṣúfís who have been mentioned were natives of Khurásán or Transoxania, and therefore presumably in touch with Buddhistic ideas, no trace can be found in their sayings of the doctrine of dying to self (_faná_), which plays a great part in subsequent Ṣúfiism, and which Von Kremer and others have identified with _Nirvána_. We now come to a more interesting personality, in whom the ascetic and quietistic type of Ṣúfiism is transfigured by emotion and begins clearly to reveal the direction of its next advance. Every one knows that women have borne a distinguished part in the annals of European mysticism: St. Teresa, Madame Guyon, Catharine of Siena, and Juliana of Norwich, to mention but a few names at random. And notwithstanding the intellectual death to which the majority of Moslem women are condemned by their Prophet's ordinance, the Ṣúfís, like the Roman Catholics, can boast a goodly number of female saints. The oldest of these, and by far the most renowned, is Rábi‘a, who belonged to the tribe of ‘Adí, whence she is generally called Rábi‘a al-‘Adawiyya. She was a native of Baṣra and died at Jerusalem, probably towards the end of the second century of Islam: her tomb was an object of pilgrimage in the Middle Ages, as we learn from Ibn Khallikán († 1282 A.D.). Although the sayings and verses attributed to her by Ṣúfí writers may be of doubtful authenticity, there is every reason to suppose that they fairly represent the actual character of her devotion, which resembled that of all feminine mystics in being inspired by tender and ardent feeling. She was asked: "Do you love God Almighty?" "Yes." "Do you hate the Devil?" "My love of God," she replied, "leaves me no leisure to hate the Devil. I saw the Prophet in a dream. He said, 'O Rábi‘a, do you love me?' I said, 'O Apostle of God, who does not love thee?--but love of God hath so absorbed me that neither love nor hate of any other thing remains in my heart.'" Rábi‘a is said to have spoken the following verses:--

"Two ways I love Thee: selfishly, And next, as worthy is of Thee. 'Tis selfish love that I do naught Save think on Thee with every thought; 'Tis purest love when Thou dost raise The veil to my adoring gaze. Not mine the praise in that or this, Thine is the praise in both, I wis."[448]

Whether genuine or not, these lines, with their mixture of devotion and speculation--the author distinguishes the illuminative from the contemplative life and manifestly regards the latter as the more excellent way--serve to mark the end of the ascetic school of Ṣúfiism and the rise of a new theosophy which, under the same name and still professing to be in full accord with the Koran and the _Sunna_, was founded to some extent upon ideas of extraneous origin--ideas irreconcilable with any revealed religion, and directly opposed to the severe and majestic simplicity of the Muḥammadan articles of faith.

[Sidenote: Umayyad literature.]

[Sidenote: The decline of Arabian poetry not due to Muḥammad.]

[Sidenote: The Umayyad poets.]

The opening century of Islam was not favourable to literature. At first conquest, expansion, and organisation, then civil strife absorbed the nation's energies; then, under the Umayyads, the old pagan spirit asserted itself once more. Consequently the literature of this period consists almost exclusively of poetry, which bears few marks of Islamic influence. I need scarcely refer to the view which long prevailed in Europe that Muḥammad corrupted the taste of his countrymen by setting up the Koran as an incomparable model of poetic style, and by condemning the admired productions of the heathen bards and the art of poetry itself; nor remind my readers that in the first place the Koran is not poetical in form (so that it could not serve as a model of this kind), and secondly, according to Muḥammadan belief, is the actual Word of God, therefore _sui generis_ and beyond imitation. Again, the poets whom the Prophet condemned were his most dangerous opponents: he hated them not as poets but as propagators and defenders of false ideals, and because they ridiculed his teaching, while on the contrary he honoured and rewarded those who employed their talents in the right way. If the nomad minstrels and cavaliers who lived, as they sang, the free life of the desert were never equalled by the brilliant laureates of imperial Damascus and Baghdád, the causes of the decline cannot be traced to Muḥammad's personal attitude, but are due to various circumstances for which he is only responsible in so far as he founded a religious and political system that revolutionised Arabian society. The poets of the period with which we are now dealing follow slavishly in the footsteps of the ancients, as though Islam had never been. Instead of celebrating the splendid victories and heroic deeds of Moslem warriors, the bard living in a great city still weeps over the relics of his beloved's encampment in the wilderness, still rides away through the sandy waste on the peerless camel, whose fine points he particularly describes; and if he should happen to be addressing the Caliph, it is ten to one that he will credit that august personage with all the virtues of a Bedouin Shaykh. "Fortunately the imitation of the antique _qaṣída_, at any rate with the greatest Umayyad poets, is to some extent only accessory to another form of art that excites our historical interest in a high degree: namely, the occasional poems (very numerous in almost all these writers), which are suggested by the mood of the moment and can shed a vivid light on contemporary history."[449]

[Sidenote: Music and song in the Holy Cities.]

[Sidenote: ‘Umar b. Abí Rabí‘a.]

The conquests made by the successors of the Prophet brought enormous wealth into Mecca and Medína, and when the Umayyad aristocracy gained the upper hand in ‘Uthmán's Caliphate, these towns developed a voluptuous and dissolute life which broke through every restriction that Islam had imposed. The increase of luxury produced a corresponding refinement of the poetic art. Although music was not unknown to the pagan Arabs, it had hitherto been cultivated chiefly by foreigners, especially Greek and Persian singing-girls. But in the first century after the Hijra we hear of several Arab singers,[450] natives of Mecca and Medína, who set favourite passages to music: henceforth the words and the melody are inseparably united, as we learn from the _Kitábu ’l-Aghání_ or 'Book of Songs,' where hundreds of examples are to be found. Amidst the gay throng of pleasure-seekers women naturally played a prominent part, and love, which had hitherto formed in most cases merely the conventional prelude to an ode, now began to be sung for its own sake. In this Peninsular school, as it may be named in contrast with the bold and masculine strain of the great Provincial poets whom we are about to mention, the palm unquestionably belongs to ‘Umar b. Abí Rabí‘a († 719 A.D.), the son of a rich Meccan merchant. He passed the best part of his life in the pursuit of noble dames, who alone inspired him to sing. His poetry was so seductive that it was regarded by devout Moslems as "the greatest crime ever committed against God," and so charming withal that ‘Abdulláh b. ‘Abbás, the Prophet's cousin and a famous authority on the Koran and the Traditions, could not refrain from getting by heart some erotic verses which ‘Umar recited to him.[451] The Arabs said, with truth, that the tribe of Quraysh had won distinction in every field save poetry, but we must allow that ‘Umar b. Abí Rabí‘a is a clear exception to this rule. His diction, like that of Catullus, has all the unaffected ease of refined conversation. Here are a few lines:--

"Blame me no more, O comrades! but to-day Quietly with me beside the howdahs stay. Blame not my love for Zaynab, for to her And hers my heart is pledged a prisoner. Ah, can I ever think of how we met Once at al-Khayf, and feel no fond regret? My song of other women was but jest: She reigns alone, eclipsing all the rest. Hers is my love sincere, 'tis she the flame Of passion kindles--so, a truce to blame!"[452]

[Sidenote: Love-ballads.]

We have no space to dwell on the minor poets of the same school, al-‘Arjí (a kinsman of the Umayyads), al-Aḥwaṣ, and many others. It has been pointed out by Dr. C. Brockelmann that the love-poetry of this epoch is largely of popular origin; _e.g._, the songs attributed to Jamíl, in which Buthayna is addressed, and to Majnún--the hero of countless Persian and Turkish romances which celebrate his love for Laylá--are true folk-songs such as occur in the _Arabian Nights_, and may be heard in the streets of Beyrout or on the banks of the Tigris at the present day. Many of them are extremely beautiful. I take the following verses from a poem which is said to have been composed by Jamíl:--

"Oh, might it flower anew, that youthful prime, And restore to us, Buthayna, the bygone time! And might we again be blest as we wont to be, When thy folk were nigh and grudged what thou gavest me!

Shall I ever meet Buthayna alone again, Each of us full of love as a cloud of rain? Fast in her net was I when a lad, and till This day my love is growing and waxing still.

I have spent my lifetime, waiting for her to speak, And the bloom of youth is faded from off my cheek; But I will not suffer that she my suit deny, My love remains undying, though all things die!"[453]

[Sidenote: Poetry in the provinces.]

The names of al-Akhṭal, al-Farazdaq, and Jarír stand out pre-eminently in the list of Umayyad poets. They were men of a very different stamp from the languishing Minnesingers and carpet-knights who, like Jamíl, refused to battle except on the field of love. It is noteworthy that all three were born and bred in Mesopotamia. The motherland was exhausted; her ambitious and enterprising youth poured into the provinces, which now become the main centres of intellectual activity.

[Sidenote: The _Naqá’iḍ_ of Jarír and Farazdaq.]

[Sidenote: General interest in poetry.]

Farazdaq and Jarír are intimately connected by a peculiar rivalry--"_Arcades ambo_--_id est_, blackguards both." For many years they engaged in a public scolding-match (_muháját_), and as neither had any scruples on the score of decency, the foulest abuse was bandied to and fro between them--abuse, however, which is redeemed from vulgarity by its literary excellence, and by the marvellous skill which the satirists display in manipulating all the vituperative resources of the Arabic language. Soon these 'Flytings' (_Naqá’iḍ_) were recited everywhere, and each poet had thousands of enthusiastic partisans who maintained that he was superior to his rival.[454] One day Muhallab b. Abí Sufra, the governor of Khurásán, who was marching against the Azáriqa, a sect of the Khárijites, heard a great clamour and tumult in the camp. On inquiring its cause, he found that the soldiers had been fiercely disputing as to the comparative merits of Jarír and Farazdaq, and desired to submit the question to his decision. "Would you expose me," said Muhallab, "to be torn in pieces by these two dogs? I will not decide between them, but I will point out to you those who care not a whit for either of them. Go to the Azáriqa! They are Arabs who understand poetry and judge it aright." Next day, when the armies faced each other, an Azraqite named ‘Abída b. Hilál stepped forth from the ranks and offered single combat. One of Muhallab's men accepted the challenge, but before fighting he begged his adversary to inform him which was the better poet--Farazdaq or Jarír? "God confound you!" cried ‘Abída, "do you ask me about poetry instead of studying the Koran and the Sacred Law?" Then he quoted a verse by Jarír and gave judgment in his favour.[455] This incident affords a striking proof that the taste for poetry, far from being confined to literary circles, was diffused throughout the whole nation, and was cultivated even amidst the fatigues and dangers of war. Parallel instances occur in the history of the Athenians, the most gifted people of the West, and possibly elsewhere, but imagine British soldiers discussing questions of that kind over the camp-fires!

Akhṭal joined in the fray. His sympathies were with Farazdaq, and the _naqá’iḍ_ which he and Jarír composed against each other have come down to us. All these poets, like their Post-islamic brethren generally, were professional encomiasts, greedy, venal, and ready to revile any one who would not purchase their praise. Some further account of them may be interesting to the reader, especially as the anecdotes related by their biographers throw many curious sidelights on the manners of the time.

[Sidenote: Akhṭal.]

The oldest of the trio, Akhṭal (Ghiyáth b. Ghawth) of Taghlib, was a Christian, like most of his tribe--they had long been settled in Mesopotamia--and remained in that faith to the end of his life, though the Caliph ‘Abdu ’l-Malik is said to have offered him a pension and 10,000 dirhems in cash if he would turn Moslem. His religion, however, was less a matter of principle than of convenience, and to him the supreme virtue of Christianity lay in the licence which it gave him to drink wine as often as he pleased. The stories told of him suggest grovelling devoutness combined with very easy morals, a phenomenon familiar to the student of mediæval Catholicism. It is related by one who was touring in Syria that he found Akhṭal confined in a church at Damascus, and pleaded his cause with the priest. The latter stopped beside Akhṭal and raising the staff on which he leaned--for he was an aged man--exclaimed: "O enemy of God, will you again defame people and satirise them and caluminate chaste women?" while the poet humbled himself and promised never to repeat the offence. When asked how it was that he, who was honoured by the Caliph and feared by all, behaved so submissively to this priest, he answered, "It is religion, it is religion."[456] On another occasion, seeing the Bishop pass, he cried to his wife who was then pregnant, "Run after him and touch his robe." The poor woman only succeeded in touching the tail of the Bishop's ass, but Akhṭal consoled her with the remark, "He and the tail of his ass, there's no difference!"[457] It is characteristic of the anti-Islamic spirit which appears so strongly in the Umayyads that their chosen laureate and champion should have been a Christian who was in truth a lineal descendant of the pagan bards. Pious Moslems might well be scandalised when he burst unannounced into the Caliph's presence, sumptuously attired in silk and wearing a cross of gold which was suspended from his neck by a golden chain, while drops of wine trickled from his beard,[458] but their protests went unheeded at the court of Damascus, where nobody cared whether the author of a fine verse was a Moslem or a Christian, and where a poet was doubly welcome whose religion enabled him to serve his masters without any regard to Muḥammadan sentiment; so that, for example, when Yazíd I wished to take revenge on the people of Medína because one of their poets had addressed amatory verses to his sister, he turned to Akhṭal, who branded the _Anṣár_, the men who had brought about the triumph of Islam, in the famous lines--

"Quraysh have borne away all the honour and glory, And baseness alone is beneath the turbans of the Anṣár."[459]

We must remember that the poets were leaders of public opinion; their utterances took the place of political pamphlets or of party oratory for or against the Government of the day. On hearing Akhṭal's ode in praise of the Umayyad dynasty,[460] ‘Abdu ’l-Malik ordered one of his clients to conduct the author through the streets of Damascus and to cry out, "Here is the poet of the Commander of the Faithful! Here is the best poet of the Arabs!"[461] No wonder that he was a favourite at court and such an eminent personage that the great tribe of Bakr used to invite him to act as arbitrator whenever any controversy arose among them.[462] Despite the luxury in which he lived, his wild Bedouin nature pined for freedom, and he frequently left the capital to visit his home in the desert, where he not only married and divorced several wives, but also threw himself with ardour into the feuds of his clan. We have already noticed the part which he played in the literary duel between Jarír and Farazdaq. From his deathbed he sent a final injunction to Farazdaq not to spare their common enemy.

Akhṭal is commended by Arabian critics for the number and excellence of his long poems, as well as for the purity, polish, and correctness of his style. Abú ‘Ubayda put him first among the poets of Islam, while the celebrated collector of Pre-islamic poetry, Abú ‘Amr b. al-‘Alá, declared that if Akhṭal had lived a single day in the Pagan Age he would not have preferred any one to him. His supremacy in panegyric was acknowledged by Farazdaq, and he himself claims to have surpassed all competitors in three styles, viz., panegyric, satire, and erotic poetry; but there is more justification for the boast that his satires might be recited _virginibus_--he does not add _puerisque_--without causing a blush.[463]

[Sidenote: Farazdaq.]

Hammám b. Ghálib, generally known as Farazdaq, belonged to the tribe of Tamím, and was born at Baṣra towards the end of ‘Umar's Caliphate, His grandfather, Ṣa‘ṣa‘a, won renown in Pre-islamic times by ransoming the lives of female infants whom their parents had condemned to die (on account of which he received the title, _Muḥyi ’l-Maw’údát_, 'He who brings the buried girls to life'), and his father was likewise imbued with the old Bedouin traditions of liberality and honour, which were rapidly growing obsolete among the demoralised populace of ‘Iráq. Farazdaq was a _mauvais sujet_ of the type represented by François Villon, reckless, dissolute, and thoroughly unprincipled: apart from his gift of vituperation, we find nothing in him to admire save his respect for his father's memory and his constant devotion to the House of ‘Alí, a devotion which he scorned to conceal; so that he was cast into prison by the Caliph Hishám for reciting in his presence a glowing panegyric on ‘Alí's grandson, Zaynu ’l-‘Ábidín. The tragic fate of Ḥusayn at Karbalá affected him deeply, and he called on his compatriots to acquit themselves like men--

"If ye avenge not him, the son of the best of you, Then fling, fling the sword away and naught but the spindle ply."[464]

While still a young man, he was expelled from his native city in consequence of the lampoons which he directed against a noble family of Baṣra, the Banú Nahshal. Thereupon he fled to Medína, where he plunged into gallantry and dissipation until a shameless description of one of his intrigues again drew upon him the sentence of banishment. His poems contain many references to his cousin Nawár, whom, by means of a discreditable trick, he forced to marry him when she was on the point of giving her hand to another. The pair were ever quarrelling, and at last Farazdaq consented to an irrevocable divorce, which was witnessed by Ḥasan of Baṣra, the famous theologian. No sooner was the act complete than Farazdaq began to wish it undone, and he spoke the following verses:--[465]

"I feel repentance like al-Kusa‘í,[466] Now that Nawár has been divorced by me. She was my Paradise which I have lost, Like Adam when the Lord's command he crossed. I am one who wilfully puts out his eyes, Then dark to him the shining day doth rise!"

'The repentance of Farazdaq,' signifying bitter regret or disappointment, passed into a proverb. He died a few months before Jarír in 728 A.D., a year also made notable by the deaths of two illustrious divines, Ḥasan of Baṣra and Ibn Sírín.

[Sidenote: Jarír.]

Jarír b. ‘Atiyya belonged to Kulayb, a branch of the same tribe, Tamím, which produced Farazdaq. He was the court-poet of Ḥajjáj, the dreaded governor of ‘Iráq, and eulogised his patron in such extravagant terms as to arouse the jealousy of the Caliph ‘Abdu ’l-Malik, who consequently received him, on his appearance at Damascus, with marked coldness and hauteur. But when, after several repulses, he at length obtained permission to recite a poem which he had composed in honour of the prince, and came to the verse--

"Are not ye the best of those who on camel ride, More open-handed than all in the world beside?"--

the Caliph sat up erect on his throne and exclaimed: "Let us be praised like this or in silence!"[467] Jarír's fame as a satirist stood so high that to be worsted by him was reckoned a greater distinction than to vanquish any one else. The blind poet, Bashshár b. Burd († 783 A.D.), said: "I satirised Jarír, but he considered me too young for him to notice. Had he answered me, I should have been the finest poet in the world."[468] The following anecdote shows that vituperation launched by a master like Jarír was a deadly and far-reaching weapon which degraded its victim in the eyes of his contemporaries, however he might deserve their esteem, and covered his family and tribe with lasting disgrace.

There was a poet of repute, well known by the name of Rá‘i ’l-ibil (Camel-herd), who loudly published his opinion that Farazdaq was superior to Jarír, although the latter had lauded his tribe, the Banú Numayr, whereas Farazdaq had made verses against them. One day Jarír met him and expostulated with him but got no reply. Rá‘í was riding a mule and was accompanied by his son, Jandal, who said to his father: "Why do you halt before this dog of the Banú Kulayb, as though you had anything to hope or fear from him?" At the same time he gave the mule a lash with his whip. The animal started violently and kicked Jarír, who was standing by, so that his cap fell to the ground. Rá‘í took no heed and went on his way. Jarír picked up the cap, brushed it, and replaced it on his head. Then he exclaimed in verse:--

"_O Jandal! what will say Numayr of you When my dishonouring shaft has pierced thy sire?_"

He returned home full of indignation, and after the evening prayer, having called for a jar of date-wine and a lamp, he set about his work. An old woman in the house heard him muttering, and mounted the stairs to see what ailed him. She found him crawling naked on his bed, by reason of that which was within him; so she ran down, crying "He is mad," and described what she had seen to the people of the house. "Get thee gone," they said, "we know what he is at." By daybreak Jarír had composed a satire of eighty verses against the Banú Numayr. When he finished the poem, he shouted triumphantly, "_Allah Akbar!_" and rode away to the place where he expected to find Rá‘í ’l-ibil and Farazdaq and their friends. He did not salute Rá‘í but immediately began to recite. While he was speaking Farazdaq and Rá‘í bowed their heads, and the rest of the company sat listening in silent mortification. When Jarír uttered the final words--

"_Cast down thine eyes for shame! for thou art of Numayr--no peer of Ka‘b nor yet Kiláb_"--

Rá‘í rose and hastened to his lodging as fast as his mule could carry him. "Saddle! Saddle!" he cried to his comrades; "you cannot stay here longer, Jarír has disgraced you all." They left Baṣra without delay to rejoin their tribe, who bitterly reproached Rá‘í for the ignominy which he had brought upon Numayr; and hundreds of years afterwards his name was still a byword among his people.[469]

[Sidenote: Dhu ’l-Rumma.]

Next, but next at a long interval, to the three great poets of this epoch comes Dhu ’l-Rumma (Ghaylán b. ‘Uqba), who imitated the odes of the desert Arabs with tiresome and monotonous fidelity. The philologists of the following age delighted in his antique and difficult style, and praised him far above his merits. It was said that poetry began with Imru’u ’l-Qays and ended with Dhu ’l-Rumma; which is true in the sense that he is the last important representative of the pure Bedouin school.

[Sidenote: Prose writers of the Umayyad period.]

Concerning the prose writers of the period we can make only a few general observations, inasmuch as their works have almost entirely perished.[470] In this branch of literature the same secular, non-Muḥammadan spirit prevailed which has been mentioned as characteristic of the poets who flourished under the Umayyad dynasty, and of the dynasty itself. Historical studies were encouraged and promoted by the court of Damascus. We have referred elsewhere to ‘Abíd b. Sharya, a native of Yemen, whose business it was to dress up the old legends and purvey them in a readable form to the public. Another Yemenite of Persian descent, Wahb b. Munabbih, is responsible for a great deal of the fabulous lore belonging to the domain of _Awá’il_ (Origins) which Moslem chroniclers commonly prefix to their historical works. There seems to have been an eager demand for narratives of the Early Wars of Islam (_maghází_). It is related that the Caliph ‘Abdu ’l-Malik, seeing one of these books in the hands of his son, ordered it to be burnt, and enjoined him to study the Koran instead. This anecdote shows on the part of ‘Abdu ’l-Malik a pious feeling with which he is seldom credited,[471] but it shows also that histories of a legendary and popular character preceded those which were based, like the _Maghází_ of Músá b. ‘Uqba († 758 A.D.) and Ibn Isḥáq's _Biography of the Prophet_, upon religious tradition. No work of the former class has been preserved. The strong theological influence which asserted itself in the second century of the Hijra was unfavourable to the development of an Arabian prose literature on national lines. In the meantime, however, learned doctors of divinity began to collect and write down the _Ḥadíths_. We have a solitary relic of this sort in the _Kitábu ’l-Zuhd_ (Book of Asceticism) by Asad b. Músá († 749 A.D.). The most renowned traditionist of the Umayyad age is Muḥammad b. Muslim b. Shiháb al-Zuhrí († 742 A.D.), who distinguished himself by accepting judicial office under the tyrants; an act of complaisance to which his more stiff-necked and conscientious brethren declined to stoop.

[Sidenote: The non-Arabian Moslems.]

It was the lust of conquest even more than missionary zeal that caused the Arabs to invade Syria and Persia and to settle on foreign soil, where they lived as soldiers at the expense of the native population whom they inevitably regarded as an inferior race. If the latter thought to win respect by embracing the religion of their conquerors, they found themselves sadly mistaken. The new converts were attached as clients (_Mawálí_, sing. _Mawlá_) to an Arab tribe: they could not become Moslems on any other footing. Far from obtaining the equal rights which they coveted, and which, according to the principles of Islam, they should have enjoyed, the _Mawálí_ were treated by their aristocratic patrons with contempt, and had to submit to every kind of social degradation, while instead of being exempted from the capitation-tax paid by non-Moslems, they still remained liable to the ever-increasing exactions of Government officials. And these 'Clients,' be it remembered, were not ignorant serfs, but men whose culture was acknowledged by the Arabs themselves--men who formed the backbone of the influential learned class and ardently prosecuted those studies, Divinity and Jurisprudence, which were then held in highest esteem. Here was a situation full of danger. Against Shí‘ites and Khárijites the Umayyads might claim with some show of reason to represent the cause of law and order, if not of Islam; against the bitter cry of the oppressed _Mawálí_ they had no argument save the sword.

[Sidenote: Presages of the Revolution.]

We have referred above to the universal belief of Moslems in a Messiah and to the extraordinary influence of that belief on their religious and political history. No wonder that in this unhappy epoch thousands of people, utterly disgusted with life as they found it, should have indulged in visions of 'a good time coming,' which was expected to coincide with the end of the first century of the Hijra. Mysterious predictions, dark sayings attributed to Muḥammad himself, prophecies of war and deliverance floated to and fro. Men pored over apocryphal books, and asked whether the days of confusion and slaughter (_al-harj_), which, it is known, shall herald the appearance of the Mahdí, had not actually begun.

The final struggle was short and decisive. When it closed, the Umayyads and with them the dominion of the Arabs had passed away. Alike in politics and literature, the Persian race asserted its supremacy. We shall now relate the story of this Revolution as briefly as possible, leaving the results to be considered in a new chapter.

[Sidenote: The ‘Abbásids.]

[Sidenote: ‘Abbásid propaganda in Khurásán.]

While the Shí‘ite missionaries (_du‘át_, sing. _dá‘í_) were actively engaged in canvassing for their party, which, as we have seen, recognised in ‘Alí and his descendants the only legitimate successors to Muḥammad, another branch of the Prophet's family--the ‘Abbásids--had entered the field with the secret intention of turning the labours of the ‘Alids to their own advantage. From their ancestor, ‘Abbás, the Prophet's uncle, they inherited those qualities of caution, duplicity, and worldly wisdom which ensure success in political intrigue. ‘Abdulláh, the son of ‘Abbás, devoted his talents to theology and interpretation of the Koran. He "passes for one of the strongest pillars of religious tradition; but, in the eyes of unprejudiced European research, he is only a crafty liar." His descendants "lived in deep retirement in Ḥumayma, a little place to the south of the Dead Sea, seemingly far withdrawn from the world, but which, on account of its proximity to the route by which Syrian pilgrims went to Mecca, afforded opportunities for communication with the remotest lands of Islam. From this centre they carried on the propaganda in their own behalf with the utmost skill. They had genius enough to see that the best soil for their efforts was the distant Khurásán--that is, the extensive north-eastern provinces of the old Persian Empire."[472] These countries were inhabited by a brave and high-spirited people who in consequence of their intolerable sufferings under the Umayyad tyranny, the devastation of their homes and the almost servile condition to which they had been reduced, were eager to join in any desperate enterprise that gave them hope of relief. Moreover, the Arabs in Khurásán were already to a large extent Persianised: they had Persian wives, wore trousers, drank wine, and kept the festivals of Nawrúz and Mihrgán; while the Persian language was generally understood and even spoken among them.[473] Many interesting details as to the methods of the ‘Abbásid emissaries will be found in Van Vloten's admirable work.[474] Starting from Kúfa, the residence of the Grand Master who directed the whole agitation, they went to and fro in the guise of merchants or pilgrims, cunningly adapting their doctrine to the intelligence of those whom they sought to enlist. Like the Shí‘ites, they canvassed for 'the House of the Prophet,' an ambiguous expression which might equally well be applied to the descendants of ‘Alí or of ‘Abbás, as is shown by the following table:--

HÁSHIM. │ ‘Abdu ’l-Muṭṭalib. │ ---------------------------------------------------- │ │ │ ‘Abdulláh. Abú Ṭálib. ‘Abbás. │ │ Muḥammad (the Prophet). ‘Alí (married to Fáṭima, daughter of the Prophet).

[Sidenote: The Shí‘ites join hands with the ‘Abbásids.]

It was, of course, absolutely essential to the ‘Abbásids that they should be able to count on the support of the powerful Shí‘ite organisation, which, ever since the abortive rebellion headed by Mukhtár (see p. 218 _supra_) had drawn vast numbers of Persian _Mawálí_ into its ranks. Now, of the two main parties of the Shí‘a, viz., the Háshimites or followers of Muḥammad Ibnu ’l-Ḥanafiyya, and the Imámites, who pinned their faith to the descendants of the Prophet through his daughter Fáṭima, the former had virtually identified themselves with the ‘Abbásids, inasmuch as the Imám Abú Háshim, who died in 716 A.D., bequeathed his hereditary rights to Muḥammad b. ‘Alí, the head of the House of ‘Abbás. It only remained to hoodwink the Imámites. Accordingly the ‘Abbásid emissaries were instructed to carry on their propaganda in the name of Háshim, the common ancestor of ‘Abbás and ‘Alí. By means of this ruse they obtained a free hand in Khurásán, and made such progress that the governor of that province, Naṣr b. Sayyár, wrote to the Umayyad Caliph, Marwán, asking for reinforcements, and informing him that two hundred thousand men had sworn allegiance to Abú Muslim, the principal ‘Abbásid agent. At the foot of his letter he added these lines:--

"I see the coal's red glow beneath the embers, And 'tis about to blaze! The rubbing of two sticks enkindles fire, And out of words come frays. 'Oh! is Umayya's House awake or sleeping?' I cry in sore amaze."[475]

We have other verses by this gallant and loyal officer in which he implores the Arab troops stationed in Khurásán, who were paralysed by tribal dissensions, to turn their swords against "a mixed rabble without religion or nobility":--

"'Death to the Arabs'--that is all their creed."[476]

[Sidenote: Declaration of war.]

[Sidenote: Abú Muslim.]

These warnings, however, were of no avail, and on June 9th, A.D. 747, Abú Muslim displayed the black banner of the ‘Abbásids at Siqadanj, near Merv, which city he occupied a few months later. The triumphant advance of the armies of the Revolution towards Damascus recalls the celebrated campaign of Cæsar, when after crossing the Rubicon he marched on Rome. Nor is Abú Muslim, though a freedman of obscure parentage--he was certainly no Arab--unworthy to be compared with the great patrician. "He united," says Nöldeke, "with an agitator's adroitness and perfect unscrupulosity in the choice of means the energy and clear outlook of a general and statesman, and even of a monarch."[477] Grim, ruthless, disdaining the pleasures of ordinary men, he possessed the faculty in which Cæsar excelled of inspiring blind obedience and enthusiastic devotion. To complete the parallel, we may mention here that Abú Muslim was treacherously murdered by Manṣúr, the second Caliph of the House which he had raised to the throne, from motives exactly resembling those which Shakespeare has put in the mouth of Brutus--

"So Caesar may: Then, lest he may, prevent. And since the quarrel Will bear no colour for the thing he is, Fashion it thus: that what he is, augmented, Would run to these and these extremities; And therefore think him as a serpent's egg Which, hatched, would as his kind grow mischievous, And kill him in the shell."

[Sidenote: Accession of Abu ’l-‘Abbás al-Saffáḥ.]

The downfall of the Umayyads was hastened by the perfidy and selfishness of the Arabs on whom they relied: the old feud between Muḍar and Yemen broke out afresh, and while the Northern group remained loyal to the dynasty, those of Yemenite stock more or less openly threw in their lot with the Revolution. We need not attempt to trace the course of the unequal contest. Everywhere the Arabs, disheartened and divided, fell an easy prey to their adversaries, and all was lost when Marwán, the last Umayyad Caliph, sustained a crushing defeat on the River Záb in Babylonia (January, A.D. 750). Meanwhile Abu ’l-‘Abbás, the head of the rival House, had already received homage as Caliph (November, 749 A.D.). In the inaugural address which he delivered in the great Mosque of Kúfa, he called himself _al-Saffáḥ_, _i.e._, 'the Blood-shedder,'[478] and this title has deservedly stuck to him, though it might have been assumed with no less justice by his brother Mansúr and other members of his family. All Umayyads were remorselessly hunted down and massacred in cold blood--even those who surrendered only on the strength of the most solemn pledges that they had nothing to fear. A small remnant made their escape, or managed to find shelter until the storm of fury and vengeance, which spared neither the dead nor the living,[479] had blown over. One stripling, named ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán, fled to North Africa, and after meeting with many perilous adventures founded a new Umayyad dynasty in Spain.