world speaks well for the organising ability of the general Aruba, and
established the Mahdi’s authority upon a sound foundation. It was,
however, disturbed by domestic difficulties in the capital. Kairawan was
an Arab colony, but under the Mahdi the Berbers were in the ascendant,
and racial disputes were inevitable. One day a Katama tribesman treated a
city merchant with insolence; a riot ensued, and some 1,000 of the Katama
were slain. After this had been repressed the governor rode through
the city and ordered the dead bodies of the Berbers to be removed. The
workmen who carried out this order threw the bodies into the channel
which served as the city sewer. At this the Katama tribesmen removed from
the city in indignation, and declared that they would no longer submit
to the Mahdi’s rule, and chose a youth named Kadu as their emir. Very
soon this rebel was in possession of the whole province of Zab, and the
Mahdi sent several generals against him without result. Some of these
generals, indeed, deserted to the enemy, for the Berbers were the main
fighting force in Africa, and there was a general indignation amongst
them at the way in which the Katama rebels in Kairawan had been treated,
and there were many followers of Abu ʿAbdullah still who threw in their
lot with the revolted Berbers. At length ʿUbayd Allah sent his son Abu
l-Qasim, and he, with some difficulty, managed to reduce the tribesmen.
In 300 the colony of Tripoli revolted. There, as in Kairawan, there had
been riots between the Berbers and Arabs. When Abu l-Qasim returned from
punishing the tribes he advanced to attack Tripoli, whilst the Mahdi
at the same time sent a fleet against it, and after some delay it was
reduced. Then Sicily revolted, and this proved to be a permanent loss
to the Fatimid Khalifs. At first the Sicilians invited Ahmad, a son of
Ziadat Allah, the former emir of Kairawan, to take charge. He refused,
but after some time, as the invitation was repeated, he consented to
be recognised as emir of Sicily. As soon as he was established he sent
a letter to the Khalif of Baghdad professing loyalty and asking to be
confirmed as emir by the Khalif. Thus Sicily broke away from the Fatimid
dominions and became once more a part of the empire of the ʿAbbasid
Khalif.
In 301 the Mahdi founded a new city on the coast near Kairawan, and gave
to it the name of al-Mahadiya. The site was very badly chosen, and the
place afterwards decayed completely, although it served as the Fatimid
capital for some generations. At the same time he commenced building a
fleet, by the help of which he hoped to make an attack upon Egypt in
due course; no doubt he was by this time convinced that his kingdom in
North Africa was not likely to be a stable one, just as it had been
held precariously by the Arab rulers who preceded him: in fact it was
an unsettled and savage country, which could be under control only so
long as under actual military occupation. Probably, also, he hoped that
the prospect of conquering Egypt would attach the Berbers to him more
successfully. The weak point in these plans was that the building and
manning of a fleet depended almost entirely on what Greek help he could
hire. Soon afterwards he sent his general Khubasa eastwards and extended
his authority, somewhat precariously, to Barqa. In the summer of 302
he made his first attempt against Egypt, sending forces by land under
his son Abu l-Qasim, and Khubasa against Alexandria. The inhabitants
of that city were obliged to take refuge in the ships in the harbour,
whilst the invaders plundered their houses. The invading army then passed
southwards to the Fayyum, but here they were met by an Egyptian army
strongly reinforced from Baghdad, and compelled to retire. The effort,
however, had brought the invasion of Egypt within the sphere of practical
politics, and the plunder of Alexandria raised much enthusiasm amongst
the Mahdi’s followers. At that time the ʿAbbasid Khalifate was in its
decline: in Baghdad the government was in the hands of the military
guard, the commander of that guard was the real ruler, the Khalif being
no more than a figure head liable to be deposed and replaced at the will
of the soldiery. The provinces were semi-independent, in most cases ruled
by hereditary emirs who paid no more than a formal tribute of respect
to the Khalif; indeed, in many cases it meant simply that his name was
mentioned in the Friday prayer. Of all the provinces Egypt was, perhaps,
the worst administered, and the ripest for falling away from the ʿAbbasid
dominions. It was on the verge of disintegration by natural decay,
whilst the Fatimid state which coveted it, though outwardly strong and
efficient, had already showed that it had the seeds of internal weakness
in the tribal jealousies of Berbers and Arabs.
In 307 the Mahdi’s armies made another attempt on Egypt, this time
supported by a fleet of 85 ships, which passed along the coast from
al-Mahadiya and anchored in the harbour of Alexandria. The Khalif’s
officers at Baghdad could only get together 25 ships which were assembled
at Tarsus and sailed over to Alexandria. But those twenty-five ships were
manned by experienced Greek mariners, and inflicted a decisive defeat on
the Mahdi’s fleet.
As Egypt now enters very directly into the affairs of the Fatimids, it
will be necessary to consider its condition. For the last four years it
had been governed by the Emir Dhuka ar-Rumi, _i.e._, Ducas the Roman
(or Greek). Before the defeat of the Mahdi’s fleet Dhuka resolved to
check the invaders who had followed their former route to the Fayyum,
and were laying waste and plundering at will. He had great difficulty
in inducing the Egyptian army to move at all, but at last marched out
to Giza and encamped on the same side of the Nile as the Mahdi’s army.
Soon afterwards he died, and the governorship was taken over by Tekin
al-Khassa, who had been governor before from 298 to 303 and had been
associated with the former victory over the Shiʿites. Immensely popular
with the soldiery, his resumption of office made an immediate change,
and he was able to take the offensive and inflict a serious check upon
the invaders, about the same time as the naval victory at Alexandria.
Although the Fayyum was cleared the Fatimid forces were still in control
in Upper Egypt, whither their cavalry had pressed on whilst others stayed
in the Fayyum. There the extreme narrowness of the Nile valley and the
exposed condition of the Bahariya and the other oases always meant a
minimum of defence, and the invaders were able to hold their own until
the next year. That meant that the whole area was infested by bands of
light cavalry, rapidly moving Bedwin, both Berber and Arab, always able
to retreat at will into the neighbouring desert and very difficult to be
restrained by any ordinary military force. In our own dealings with the
Sanusi in 1916 we had experience of such difficulty. The only possible
solution is a system of organised military patrol, which takes some
little time to dispose efficiently. That Egypt was cleared after a few
months’ interval shows that Tekin had considerable ability in handling
the military task with which he was confronted.
These attacks of the Shiʿites revealed another weakness in Egypt. There
was strong reason to suspect that they had many sympathisers there.
There was an active branch of the Ismaʿilian propaganda at work in the
country, and all who were initiated in the sect were of necessity spies
and helpers of the invaders. Two at least of the leading officials, the
Qadi and the Treasurer were in correspondence with the Mahdi and in his
employ: this does not mean that they were converts to the Shiʿite sect,
but simply that they were disloyal to their own service as the result
of personal jealousies and rivalries, the perennial bane of all oriental
governments. It was only the support of the army which maintained
Tekin, and even so he was not in a position to attack his rivals in the
government. When he had been successful in clearing the country of the
Mahdi’s forces, he had his reward in dismissal from the governorship in
which he was succeeded by Muhammad b. Hamal, but three days later he
was restored, to be deposed again soon afterwards as the result of more
palace intrigues. The two following governors, Hilal b. Badr and Ahmad
b. Kayghalagh, held office, the first for two years, the other for one,
and then in 312 Takin was restored and remained governor until his death
in 321. Conditions indeed were such that only a military leader with the
support of the army could exercise any effective control in the country.
The reinforcements sent from Baghdad in 302 had done more harm than the
Shiʿite invaders; they had totally demoralised the native soldiery, and
the army was now no more than a large troop of brigands who lived on
the plunder of the country. At his appointment in 312 Takin established
the army in camps around his own palace as well as in quarters in the
building itself, and, more by the force of his own personality than
anything else, managed to keep them fairly in hand until his death. It
was no small feat, for he was utterly unable to provide them with their
pay, which was many years in arrear. At his death the governorship
was assumed by his son Muhammad, but he had not his father’s power or
popularity, and was soon mobbed and driven out by the discontented
soldiers clamouring for their pay. The Treasurer Madaraʿi, who was in the
Mahdi’s employ and largely responsible for the disorder in the finances,
was obliged to hide himself. Several ambitious officers assumed the
title of Governor and tried the expedient of raising funds by brigandage
organised on a larger scale than usual, and the country had relief only
in the fact that these were soon occupied in war against one another.
It is not difficult to understand that the eyes of many Egyptians were
turned longingly towards Kairawan, where the Mahdi, in an efficient
though somewhat brutal manner, was administering a firm and well ordered
state, maintaining civil law and peace. This is the easier to appreciate
when we remember that Ismaʿilian missionaries were busy in Egypt, and
the orderly government at Kairawan would naturally form one of their
arguments.
At this juncture, when Egypt was plunged in anarchy, the Khalif at
Baghdad intervened and appointed as governor Muhammad b. Tughj the
Ikhshid, son of the Emir of Syria, who had himself been governor of
Damascus since 318. As his name denotes, this new governor was of Turkish
birth. For some time now the Khalifs, seriously alarmed at the growing
independence of the various dynasties of hereditary governors, especially
in Persia and the neighbouring lands, had been introducing Turkish
mercenaries, reckless of the inevitable consequences.
The conditions of the Khalifate at this time show a close parallel
with those prevailing in Europe under the later Karlings, when “the
governor,—count, abbot, or bishop—tightened his grasp, turned a delegated
into an independent, a personal into a territorial authority, and hardly
owned a distant and feeble suzerain” (Bryce: _Holy Rom. Empire_, p.
79). So each governor appointed by the Khalif became the founder of an
independent dynasty, barely conceding the mention of the suzerain’s name
in the _khutba_ and on the coinage. Such were the Tahirids who ruled in
Khurasan from 205 to 259, the Saffarids in Persia from 254 to 290, the
Samanids in Transoxiana and Persia from 288 to about 400, the Hamdanids
who established themselves at Mosul in 292, at Aleppo in 333, and ruled
there until 394, and the Aghlabids whom we have seen in Kairawan.
The Ikhshids claimed to be descended from the ancient kings of Ferghana
on the Jaxartes, a district inhabited by fighting races, from whom
the Khalif al-Muʿtasim (218-227) drew many mercenaries. The first of
the Ikhshids to serve the Khalifs was a mercenary named Juff, and he
continued in the Khalif’s employ until his death in 247. One of his sons
named Tughj was in the service of Luʿluʿ, who acted as squire to Ibn
Tulun in Egypt, and, when his master died, in that of Ishaq b. Kundaj,
and afterwards in that of Ibn Tulun’s son, Abu l-Jaysh Khumasawaih,
who regarded him with great favour and formed a very high opinion of
his military abilities, in consequence of which he procured for him
the governorship of Damascus and Tiberias. At his patron’s death Tughj
offered himself to the Khalif al-Muktafi, who considered this an act of
marked loyalty, and was greatly pleased with him, and made him one of
his confidential officers. These favours provoked the jealousy of the
wazir al-ʿAbbas, and he succeeded in getting Tughj cast into prison where
he died. He left two sons, Muhammad and ʿAbdullah, who burned to avenge
their father’s death, and their resentment was gratified when they saw
al-ʿAbbas executed by the Hamdanid al-Husayn.
After this the elder son, Muhammad, went to Syria and joined himself to
Takin, who was governor of Syria as well as of Egypt. In this service he
prospered and was made governor of Amman. Then in 316 he was appointed to
Ramla, in 318 he was transferred to Damascus, which led the way to his
appointment as Emir of Egypt. This last charge was given him in 321, but
the state of Syria did not allow his immediate departure, and Egypt was
left for a while in the hands of Ahmad b. Kayghalagh, who returned to
office temporarily. By 324 Syria had been reduced to order, and Muhammad
the Ikhshid went over to Egypt to assume his governorship in person,
leaving his brother ʿAbdullah in Syria.
There were some in Egypt who did not like the prospect of this new
governor, and amongst these was the Treasurer Madaraʿi, who induced the
acting governor, Ibn Kayghalagh, to take up arms to resist his entry.
The Egyptian army marched to the frontier and engaged the Syrians and
Turks under the Ikhshid at Farama, the ancient Pelusiun, now more
generally known as Tineh (Arabic _tîn_ = Greek πηλός “mud”), near the
Egyptian end of the “short desert route,” _via_ al-Arish from Syria.
The result was a complete defeat of the Egyptians, and so Muhammad the
Ikhshid continued on his way to the capital Fustat (“Old Cairo”) without
further opposition. Meanwhile the Syrian fleet had sailed up the Nile and
anchored off Giza, thus commanding the city until the Ikhshid marched up
his forces and took possession. The arrival of the new governor and his
army, largely Turkish in composition, established a firm and efficient
government in Egypt again until his death in 335. At their first arrival
indeed the Turkish troops began plundering the city, but they were soon
called to order and then, although the new governor was severe and
exacted heavy contributions, this stern rule was welcomed as it recalled
the peace and prosperity of the golden days of Ibn Tulun. The resultant
peace very soon opened up the way to literary activity and scholarship,
and Egypt began to follow, though at a distance, the culture of ʿIraq.
This literary development, as well as theological discussion and debates
on jurisprudence, centered in the “Old Mosque,” which was also the scene
of the most important state functions.
Although the establishment of the Ikhshid rule in Egypt gives the
appearance of supreme power to the Khalif at Baghdad, who seems thus able
to dispose of provinces and appoint governors at discretion, his position
at the time was really very precarious. The Buwayhid dynasty of governors
had established itself in ʿIraq in 320 (= A.D. 932), but Baghdad itself
remained under the Khalif until 334, though generally he was only a tool
in the hands of the commander of the garrison. These Buwayhids claimed
descent from Buwayh, a prince in the hill country of Daylam, and so
ultimately from the ancient kings of Persia. They appeared as rivals of
other Daylamites led by Bajukin, who was _Emir al-Umara_ or “Supreme
Prince,” and had control of the government under the Khalifs ar-Razi and
al-Muttaqi. Alarmed at the progress of the Buwayhids, Bajukin took up
arms against them in 327, but was compelled to abandon his efforts by
the report of disorders in Baghdad. Soon afterwards Bajukin was killed
by a band of Kurdish marauders, and the capital was left in a state of
anarchy. Then Baridi became Chief Emir, but was expelled a few weeks
later: then the Daylamite Kurtakin, who turned out to be a tyrant. At
this the Khalif appealed to Ibn Raiq, the Emir of Syria, and he expelled
Kurtakin. Not long afterwards Baridi attacked Baghdad and Ibn Raiq had to
flee, taking the Khalif with him to Mosul, which was in the hands of the
Hamdanids. As champions of the Khalifate the Hamdanids marched against
Baghdad, took it, and ruled there for a short time, until the Turk Tuzun
drove them out and made himself _Emir al-Umara_ in 331. Then another
revolt drove him out, and the Khalif appealed again to the Hamdanids
and escaped to Mosul; but when peace was concluded between Tuzun and
the Hamdanids the Khalif remained in their hands. At this time, indeed,
the Khalifate was very far from showing the character of an absolute
monarchy. All over the Muslim world the Sunni, or orthodox party,
recognised the Khalif as the Commander of the Faithful, except of course
in Spain where the Umayyads of Cordova assumed the title of Khalif in
317. Enjoying great dignity and prestige in an office which combined many
of the characteristics of the Pope and Emperor in the West, he was in
fact no more than a puppet, a valuable asset in the hands of any one of
the warring dynasties of Asia, but possessing no real authority. Yet his
formal recognition was eagerly sought as a precious endorsement of _de
facto_ rights by Muslim rulers, and even princes in far-off India humbly
begged his approval of their titles. It seems indeed as though the office
of Khalif gained in spiritual influence as it lost in political authority.
Whilst in exile and in Hamdanid’s hands, the Khalif appealed to the
Ikhshid whom he had set over Egypt, and Muhammad visited him at Riqqa and
invited him to take refuge in Egypt; but al-Muttaqi, though anxious for
help to recover the external symbols of authority at Baghdad, was not
willing to put himself so entirely in the Ikhshid’s hands; he knew that
Ikhshid and Hamdanid alike only desired to possess his person as a kind
of imperial regalia, and so he preferred to entrust himself to the Turk
Tuzun, who at least could establish him in the capital. He reigned in
Baghdad in name only until 333, when Tuzun deposed him, put out his eyes,
and enthroned al-Mustakfi in his place. But this was followed by a period
of anarchy in Baghdad, until in 334 the Buwayhid prince took the city. A
few months later al-Mustakfi was deposed and replaced by al-Muʿti, whose
position under the Buwayhid princes was parallel to that of the Frankish
kings under the “Mayors of the Palace,” with the aggravated condition
that the Khalifs were spiritual pontiffs and the Buwayhids were, like
the Hamdanids, Shiʿite heretics of the “Twelvers” sect. Buwayhid’s rule
over Baghdad lasted from 384 to 447, when the Emir was displaced by the
Saljuk Turks under Tughril Beg. Throughout this period the Buwayhids were
content with the title of _Emir al-Umara_; they never assumed that of
Sultan.
It has been necessary for us to turn aside to note the position of the
Khalifate at the time, for otherwise we should have some difficulty in
understanding the course of events in Egypt, which now takes the foremost
place in the policy of the African Shiʿites. It is often possible to
ignore the contemporary history of Spain and of North Africa when
following the course of events in Egypt, but Egypt forms so integral
a part of the world of Islam that it is never possible to treat its
history, even during the comparative isolation of the Fatimid period,
without some passing note of the contemporary history of the Baghdad
Khalifate.
Whilst these changes were taking place in Asia and the Ikhshid was
consolidating his power in Egypt, the Mahdi continued ruling at Kairawan,
and, though North Africa was one of the most turbulent and the least
civilized parts of the Islamic world, his rule was stable and orderly.
In 312 he added a suburb to the city which he called al-Muhammadiya, and
which served as a kind of royal cantonments closed against the ordinary
citizens, and used only as an official settlement of those engaged in the
public administration and as the site of the various public offices. Such
official suburbs were very frequent in oriental capitals, and become a
regular feature of the great Muslim royal cities. The Mahdi’s later years
were somewhat clouded by his relations with the Qarmatians, who were
still active in Asia, and who caused the whole Ismaʿilian movement to be
regarded with grave suspicion by the Muslim world at large.
Since 311, as we have seen, the Qarmatians had occupied Basra. In 317
they had spread down into the Hijaz, and on the 8th of the month of
the pilgrimage in that year the pilgrims who had come up to Mecca were
attacked by them. The Sherif of Mecca, many of his attendants, and many
of the pilgrims, were killed: the sacred spring of Zamzam was choked
up with the bodies of the slain which were tumbled in: the door of the
“House of God” was broken open, the veil which covered the House was
torn down, and the sacred black stone was removed from the Kaʿaba and
carried away to the Qarmatian headquarters at Hajar. Never in the history
of Islam has there been sacrilege at all comparable to this, and never
before had the Qarmatians advertised so boldly their contempt for the
Muslim religion. Begkem, the Emir of Baghdad, offered them a reward of
50,000 dinars to restore the sacred stone, but the offer was refused.
According to Ibn Athir, quoted by Ibn Khallikan (i. 427, etc.) the
Mahdi then wrote to them from Kairawan: “By what you have done you have
justified the charge of infidelity brought against our sect, and the
title of ‘impious’ given to the missionaries acting for our dynasty;
if you restore not what you have taken from the people of Mecca, the
pilgrims and others, if you replace not the Black Stone and the veil
of the Kaʿaba, we shall renounce you in this world and the next.” This
letter was more effectual than Begkem’s proffered reward, and the
Qarmatians restored the Black Stone with the statement, “We took it by
order, and by order we return it.” It was restored either in Dhu l-Kaada
or Dhu l-Hijja of 339. Of the year there seems no question, and Ibn
Khallikan points out that the Mahdi died in 322. He suggests, therefore,
that the letter and the Qarmatian reply were fabrications, presumably for
the purpose of throwing the odium of sacrilege on the Mahdi. But it is
not necessary to suppose that the Black Stone was returned immediately in
response to the Mahdi’s request. A more likely interpretation is given
by Macdonald, who accepts the letter as genuine and comments: “When an
enormous ransom was offered for the stone they (_i.e._, the Qarmatians)
declined—they had orders not to send it back. Everyone understood that
the orders were from Africa. So ʿUbayd Allah found it advisable to
address them in a public letter, exhorting them to be better Muslims. The
writing and reading of this letter must have been accompanied by mirth,
at any rate no attention was paid to it by the Qarmatians. It was not
till the time of the third Fatimid Khalifa that they were permitted to do
business with that stone” (Macdonald: _Muslim Theology_, pp. 46-47). This
suggests a plausible explanation, that the letter was sent by the Mahdi,
but was only intended to disclaim any responsibility for the taking of
the stone on his part; that it was not intended to be heeded, and was not
taken seriously, the stone being detained until long after the Mahdi’s
death. This theory would fit in with the policy of the Fatimids at
Kairawan, which carefully avoided anything likely to offend the orthodox,
and would dispose of Ibn Khallikan’s objection, which is based on the
supposition that the date of the return of the stone was shortly after
the writing of the latter. The letter assumes that the Qarmatians and
the Fatimids were members of the same sect. Undoubtedly they had been so
originally, but later on they definitely separated, and we are not clear
as to the time of this division. It seems probable that the external
quasi-orthodoxy of the Fatimids in Africa was the cause of its separation
from the Qarmatians, who had made more open profession of the destructive
elements of their religion.
The Mahdi died in 322 (A.D. 933), and was succeeded by his son Abu
l-Kasim, who assumed the name of al-Qaʾim.
VI
THE SECOND FATIMID KHALIF, AL-QAʾIM
(A.H. 322-335 = A.D. 933-946)