The new Khalif, al-Qaʾim, had already shown himself an efficient leader

in the two expeditions against Egypt, and in the vigour with which he

repressed the simmering revolts in Africa. His accession was marked by

two expeditions; a naval attack on the south of France, the coast of

Genoa and Calabria, which resulted in the bringing home of many slaves

and plunder: and another attempt on Egypt, which, however, was promptly

checked by the Ikhshid’s brother, ʿUbayd Allah.

At the moment Egypt was too well administered to allow opportunity for

invasion such as had taken place in 307-8. The Ikhshid was doing his best

to hold Syria and to bolster up the tottering throne of the Khalifs,

but had forces to spare for the protection of Egypt. It is true that he

was defeated shortly afterwards by Ibn Raiq, who had seized Damascus

and was compelled to pay tribute, but after two years’ payment Ibn Raiq

died (A.H. 326), and then the Ikhshid was able, not only to recover all

that he had temporarily been compelled to yield, but was in a position

to extend his dominions, and brought Syria under his control. Not long

afterwards the Khalif entrusted him with the guardianship of Mecca and

Madina. At that time the Ikhshid was the only loyal supporter on whom the

Khalif could rely, chiefly, of course, because of his jealousy towards

those who threatened the throne of Baghdad.

Unable to divert his subjects by the long hoped for conquest of Egypt,

al-Qaʾim had to meet more serious rebellions in the west than his father

had experienced. The principal revolt took place amongst the Zenata tribe

of Aures and Zab, south of the Katama territory, nearly all members of

the Kharijite sect, led by a darwish named Abu Yazid, who assumed the

title of “Sheikh of the true believers,” but was better known as “the man

with an ass.” This movement was mainly of a nationalist character, and

aimed at establishing a purely Berber state in which Arabs should have no

place. The Berbers had won Spain, and had done most to place the Fatimids

on the throne of Kairawan, but in both cases they seemed to have been

cheated out of the fruits of their labours by wily Asiatics, and so the

motive in this revolt was the assertion of their racial rights.

In 332 Abu Yazid marched northwards at the head of most of the Zenata

tribe of the south, hereditary rivals of the Katama, and many other

Berbers. In rapid succession he took Baghai, Tabassa, Mermajenna, and

Laribus. The Fatimid forces tried to prevent his advance upon Baja, but

were repulsed. It was the story of Abu ʿAbdullah over again, but this

time it was a Berber at the head of Berber tribes, and the religious

motive assigned was the restoration of the primitive ideals of Islam,

the democratic election of the Khalif, and all the reactionary programme

of the Kharijites which was, and is, the most congenial to the nomadic

tribes of Africa and Arabia. We have seen very much the same programme in

the history of the Sanusi in recent times. The successful repulse of the

Fatimid army made a great impression, and all the Zanata tribes of Zab,

the Hwaras of the Aures, and many others, rallied round Abu Yazid. At the

head of a large, but undisciplined force, he marched towards Kairawan:

on the way he met a Fatimid army, but this time suffered defeat. It was,

however, no more than a temporary check; he soon rallied, took Raqada,

and then pressed on to Kairawan, defeated the forces of the Fatimid

Khalif, and captured the city. Al-Qaʾim was obliged to take refuge in

al-Mahadiya, which Abu Yazid forthwith besieged. At this juncture the

Katama and Sanhaja tribes came in mass to relieve the city, and Abu

Yazid’s followers, demoralised by the steady resistance of the defenders,

were obliged to retire. As they retreated al-Qaʾim followed, and was soon

able to recover the whole of Tunisia, but after an interval Abu Yazid

rallied and laid siege to the town of Susa.

At this juncture al-Qaʾim died, and was succeeded by his son, who took

the name al-Mansur (the protected).

Al-Qaʾim had accompanied his father, the Mahdi, in his flight from

Syria, and had proved himself a trusty and competent general before his

accession to the throne. He figures in history solely as a fighting man:

we hear nothing of any development either in the Ismaʿilian sect or in

the organization of the Fatimid state.

VII

THE THIRD FATIMID KHALIF, AL-MANSUR

(A.H. 335-342 = A.D. 946-953)

The stability of the Fatimid Khalifate was problematical when al-Qaʾim

died at the height of Abu Yazid’s rebellion. The first task of the

new Khalif al-Mansur was to relieve Susa, and he was fortunate enough

to inflict a severe defeat on Abu Yazid, and to drive him back to the

mountains of Kiana in the extreme west of Ifrikiya. There a stubborn

struggle followed which lasted a whole year, but was terminated by the

final defeat and complete rout of the insurgent Berbers, Abu Yazid

himself being mortally wounded in the final engagement and dying soon

after.

This revolt, however, begins the decay of Fatimid authority in the

west. The Zanata tribes of Maghrawa and B. Ifrene were able to form a

separate state in the neighbourhood of Tlemsen, whilst the Umayyads of

Spain established a colony at Fez, where they placed the descendants

of Musa ibn Abi l-Afia and his followers, Syrian Arabs who had been

invited to Spain but had become obnoxious, and whom it was advisable to

segregate from the earlier settlers in Spain. Central Maghrab, roughly

corresponding to the greater part of Algeria, was held by the Sanhaja

tribe, steady allies and supporters of the Fatimid Khalifate, under the

government of Ziri b. Menad, who built the town of Achir as his capital.

Such was the position when al-Mansur died in 342 and was succeeded by

his son Maʿad, who took the name of al-Moʿizz. Al-Mansur’s reign had

been occupied entirely in dealing with Abu Yazid’s rebellion, and in the

consolidation of the country after this rebellion had been put down. It

cannot be said that he left the Fatimid state in a strengthened position

when compared with conditions under the Mahdi, for already independent

states had begun to be formed in the West, but he had dealt successfully

with the emergency existing at the time of his accession.

The Fatimid state was essentially an hereditary one, for the Shiʿite

theory implied the legitimate descent of the Imam. The recognition of

Ismaʿil, the son of Jaʿfar, clearly showed that the father’s claimed

right of disposing of the succession was invalid in the eyes of the sect

of Seveners. From that time the succession had been strictly hereditary.

But the Fatimids, seated in power, borrowed the constitutional usage of

the Khalifs of Baghdad, and secured the succession by obtaining formal

recognition of the heir during their lifetime. Thus Maʿad was formally

recognised as next in succession on Monday, the 7th of Dhu l-Hijja 341,

and came to the throne in the following year. In the ʿAbbasid Khalifate

this recognition was a relic of the earlier election, and meant that the

next Khalif was formally elected by the princes during his predecessor’s

lifetime, the orthodox Khalifate not being professedly hereditary. The

case was otherwise with the Fatimids who were legitimist, and could only

have as Imam the one chosen by God, and to whom alone the Divine Spirit

could pass at the preceding Imam’s death. No doubt the formal recognition

during the father’s life was adopted as a measure of precaution;

theoretically it might be defended by the supposition that its point was

the father’s public recognition of his son and heir, but the real case

seems to be that it was simply borrowed from the usages of the court of

Baghdad, and marks a relaxation of the theocratic and sectarian character

of the Fatimid state which is gradually inclining towards becoming a

purely secular one, differing from the Baghdad Khalifate in little more

than in that it professed Shiʿism as the established religion.

VIII

THE FOURTH FATIMID KHALIF, AL-MOʿIZZ

(A.H. 342-365 = A.D. 953-975)

The new Fatimid Khalif was of a type somewhat different from his

predecessors. Like them, indeed, he proved an able and efficient ruler,

but unlike them he was a man of cultured tastes and of considerable

literary ability. His heart was set on the conquest of Egypt, the great

dream ever present before his father and grandfather, which seemed now

coming within the bounds of possibility.

To understand this we must turn for a while to the course of events

in Egypt. The Ikhshid Muhammad b. Tughj had died in 335, and had been

succeeded by his son Abu l-Qasim Unjur, a child of 15, who was kept in

a state of pupilage by a black eunuch named Abu l-Misk Kafur, _i.e._,

“Camphor, the father of musk.” This Kafur was an ungainly black slave, of

ponderous bulk and mis-shapen legs, who had been purchased as a boy of

ten in the year 310 and sent one day with a present to the Ikhshid; the

present was returned, but the messenger was retained. Little by little he

rose in the service, first of the Ikhshid’s household, then in that of

the state, conciliating everyone by his pleasing manners and fair words,

and was finally appointed by the Ikhshid _atatek_, or guardian, to his

two sons. At the Ikhshid’s death a riot broke out, and this Kafur put

down with such tact that he was regarded with even greater favour and

consideration by all the public officials. Soon afterwards news arrived

that the Hamdanid Sayf ad-Dawla ʿAli had taken Damascus, and was marching

upon Ramla. At once Kafur set out at the head of the army and checked

ʿAli, returning home with considerable booty. This greatly increased

his reputation, and, although holding no constitutional authority he

was able to get all the business of the state into his hands, and was

generally conceded the title of _ustad_ or “tutor,” a word often used

in the same sense as _patron_ in French, and under this title he was

mentioned in the _khutba_ or Friday prayer. As his ward Unjur grew

older, however, a more or less veiled hostility arose between them, each

on his guard against the other, until the titular prince died in 349,

not without suspicion of being poisoned by the ustad, although such

suspicions were usual in every case where a death seemed to be timely:

the oriental world has always had an obsession for poisoning.

Kafur was now strong enough to control the appointment of the next heir

and, as Maqrizi expresses it, appointed the deceased prince’s brother

Abu l-Hasan ʿAli to succeed him, paying him an annual pension of 400,000

dinars, and reserving the whole administration in his own hands. The

new Emir, though 23 years of age, was kept shut up and was permitted

to see no-one. However, the same strained feelings arose between him

and the ustad as in the case of his brother, and when he died in 355

there were the same suspicions. For some time Egypt remained without a

regular governor,—it must be remembered that the Emir was theoretically

no more than a viceroy appointed by the Khalif at Baghdad,—and all the

power continued in Kafur’s hands as he declined to proclaim Anujin’s

son, saying that he was too young to occupy the position of Emir. About

a month after Abu l-Hasan ʿAli’s death he displayed a pelisse of honour

sent from Baghdad and a charter nominating himself governor under the

title of ustad, and on Tuesday, the 10th of Safar 355 (Feb., 966), he

began to wear the pelisse in public (Ibn Khall. ii. 524, etc.).

Before long the Khalif al-Moʿizz made another attempt upon Egypt, and his

army advanced to the oases before the western frontier, but Kafur checked

the advance and slew several of the invaders, but received at his court

some of the Fatimid missionaries whom al-Moʿizz sent as envoys to invite

Kafur to recognise his authority. The Ustad received them favourably,

and most of his entourage and the chief officials gave their promises

of homage to the Fatimid. It seems, indeed, that Kafur had formed the

definite plan of transferring allegiance from the ʿAbbasid Khalif to the

Fatimid, or rather that such a transference should take place at the next

vacancy in the governorship of Egypt.

Kafur never repeated the military enterprise or success of his two

earlier expeditions, his defeat of the Hamdanid and his repulse of the

Fatimid, if indeed this latter can be regarded as a success. He was

unable to prevent the Qarmatians who had raided Syria in 352, from

capturing the caravan of Egyptian pilgrims on their way to Mecca in 355.

Nor could he restrain a Nubian invasion into Egypt which plundered the

more southern districts and took home much booty. Still more serious

misfortunes which were not under his control were the two low Niles,

producing famine and misery, and a severe fire which destroyed parts of

Fustat, as well as an earthquake. On the whole the four years of Kafur’s

rule were a period of distress and discontent.

Yet many in after days looked back to those years as a kind of golden

age. It was a period in which the later growth of Arabic literature was

in full tide, that later literature which contrasted with the ancient

Arabic poetry of the more strictly classical period, when both prose

and poetry were manipulated mainly by men who were not Arabs by race,

but obtained a greater technical skill than the earlier writers had

achieved. To that later literature the negro ruler of Egypt showed

himself a generous patron and his court was filled with poets, wits,

and men of letters who were attracted to Egypt by the liberality of

the black Maecenas. Like most of his race he was passionately fond of

music; and the beautiful gardens which he laid out on the north of

Fustat, gardens which the Fatimids incorporated in their royal city of

Cairo, transmitted his name to succeeding generations. He was lavish

in his expenditure,—the negro is always ostentatious,—and especially

so on the daily provisions of his kitchen, but this was counted in his

favour, for the Arabic tradition was that princes should dispense an

open handed hospitality, and the Egyptians of ancient and modern times

have had a strong inclination to appreciate feasting and the indulgence

of the appetite. But most welcome of all to his table were poets and

epigrammists, who rarely went away without some substantial rewards

for their literary efforts. One poet was able to leave behind him a

hundred suits of robes of honour, twice that number of vests, and five

hundred turbans. Such literary courtiers naturally turned their genius to

complimentary verses about their patron. One, playing upon his name Kafur

or “camphro,” composed verses on the fragrant scented gardens which he

had laid out, and which long stood for the ideal gardens in the Egyptian

mind: another explained in verse how the shocks of earthquake had been

caused by the Egyptians dancing for delight as they contemplated Kafur’s

merits, an effusion which caused the delighted Ustad to throw him a

purse containing a thousand dinars. Amongst his pensioners was the poet

al-Mutanabbi, who had left the court of the Hamdanid Sayf ad-Dawla in

anger at the smallness of his presents, and thought little of a prince

who did not come up to his very high standard of generosity. At first

Kafur used to smile graciously at him, but the poet wanted presents and

not mere compliments. “When I went into Kafur’s presence,” he said, “with

the intention of reciting verses to him, he always laughed at seeing me

and smiled in my face, but when I repeated to him these lines:—

‘Since friendship has become a mere deception, I am repaid

for my smiles with smiles; but when I choose a friend my mind

misgives me, for I know he is but a man’:

he never did so again as long as I remained with him. I was astonished

at this proof of his sagacity and intelligence.” He was very quickly

dissatisfied with Kafur. “What I want,” he said, “I declare not; thou

art gifted with sagacity, and my silence is a sufficient explanation,

nay a plain request.” At length he left Kafur’s court, dissatisfied at

the liberal gifts he received because they were not ample enough, and

revenged himself by writing satires on Kafur, such as:—

“Who could teach noble sentiments to this castrated negro?—his

white masters?—or his ancestors who were hunted like wild

beasts?”

The poet finally settled at the court of Adud ad-Dawla at Shiraz (Ibn

Khall. ii. 524, sqq.).

But Kafur, though easy going and with many of the weaknesses of the

negro, was a man who had the wit to acquire more than a superficial

education by the right use of opportunities which were often available

to the ambitious slave, and which indeed form one of the redeeming

features of slavery as it existed in Muslim lands. Besides this he was

a painstaking and efficient administrator, and a man of deep religious

convictions.

In all Kafur ruled the country twenty-two years, part of the time as

tutor to the two sons of the Ikhshih, part as independent viceroy in all

but name. During the closing years of this period he became unpopular.

Feeling had been strained by the famine due to the bad Niles, and the

reports of the Qarmatians’ advance into Syria bred disaffection amongst

the Turkish and Greek mercenaries. On Tuesday, the 20th Jumada I. 356

(May, 967), he died at the age of sixty, leaving property to the value of

700,000 dinars of gold, and goods, furniture, jewels, slaves, and animals

valued at some 600,000 dinars.

Kafur’s death left Egypt in a state of confusion. The court assembled

to elect a governor; a significant mark of the times, for no reference

was made to the Khalif at Baghdad, who was a mere phantom. The choice

fell on Abu l-Fawaris Ahmad, grandson of the Ikhshih Muhammad b. Tughj,

who was a mere child. Soon after this, however, there arrived in Egypt

Husayn, the son of ʿAbdullah, the brother whom Muhammad had left in Syria

in 321. During the thirty years which had elapsed since then ʿUbayd and

his son had had a chequered military career, and the son now arrived

as a fugitive, fleeing from the Qarmatians. His arrival was welcome to

the Turkish troops who forthwith elected him their general, and he at

once assumed the supreme power. The use he made of this authority was to

arrest the wazir Ibn al-Furat and torture him until he wrung from him

a large sum of money with which he departed at once to Syria. During

his brief stay in Egypt he had been guilty of other acts of cruelty and

rapacity, and when a year later he was himself sent a prisoner to Egypt,

there was a general feeling of satisfaction that he was himself treated

with severity. His departure for Syria took place on the first of Rabiʿ

II. 358 (Feb., 969). The rule of the Ikhshids, or at least their nominal

authority, continued for five months more until the summer of the same

year (Ibn Khall, Life of Tughj).

It was a time of acute disorder. Famine had followed the failure of the

Nile, and plague had followed the famine. The soldiers had their pay

diminished, their customary gratuities were in arrear, and they were in

open mutiny, for there was no controlling hand to restrain them. The

administration was in the hands of the wazir Ibn al-Furat, who had been

plundered by ʿAbdullah, and he was unable either to pay the troops or

to relieve the distress of the people. It was clear that under these

conditions the country would be in no condition to offer effective

resistance to an invader, and this was the moment chosen by the Fatimid

Khalif to make his attack.

For two years (356-357) al-Moʿizz had been making detailed preparations

for the invasion of Egypt. In 356 he had commenced constructing roads,

digging wells along the roadside, and building rest-houses at regular

intervals. At the same time he began collecting funds for the necessary

expenses and paying substantial sums to the Katama leaders, who were

thus enabled to arm and equip their followers. As we have already seen,

there had been Fatimite missionaries for some time at work in Egypt,

and al-Moʿizz had even made formal advances to Kafur and had been well

received, and his proposals for coming to Egypt had been heard with

politeness: he certainly had many strong adherents in high office in

Egypt. Now the general disorder following the famine and plague, and

the disorganization after Kafur’s death seemed to furnish the right

opportunity, just as all his preparations were mature.

An even more important task had been performed in bringing all North

Africa into complete subordination. Cultured literary man as the Fatimid

Khalif was, he was also a most efficient organizer, and was well served

by officials whom he treated with generous confidence. The disciplining

of Africa was a necessary preliminary to an expedition outside the bounds

of the country, which might well be of protracted duration and uncertain

issue. For this he had the assistance of an able general, Abu l-Hasan

Jawhar b. ʿAbdullah, commonly known as “Jawhar the Greek scribe,” as he

was a liberated slave trained as a secretary, whose father had been

subject of the Byzantine Empire. Like Kafur he shows that the slave

in Islam was not merely treated as a fellow man, but had a career of

ambition open before him, in which his servile origin was no obstacle;

even in modern times slaves have risen to high office, and have sometimes

married princesses. There was no colour barrier nor any racial feeling:

no reluctance was felt at white men being ruled by a negro ex-slave.

Marching to the Maghrab, Jawhar joined forces with the Sanhaja chieftain

Ziri, who was one of the most faithful allies of the Fatimids (cf. p.

123), and together they advanced upon the Umayyad colonies at Fez and

Sijilmasa. These they took and thus prevented the possibility of Spanish

interference in Africa for the time. Continuing westwards they reduced

the whole Maghrab to the coast. As a sign of the extent of the expedition

fish were caught in the ocean, and sent in jars to the Khalif in company

with the princes of Fez and Sijilmasa, who were conveyed in an iron cage.

The only town left to the Umayyads was Sibta (Ceuta). The Idrisid princes

of the far west, descendants of Hasan, the son of ʿAli, were put down,

and thus their independent rule which had lasted just over two centuries

came to an end. It was a more thorough reduction of the country than had

ever been made previously, and when Jawhar returned to Kairawan al-Moʿizz

was recognised as the unquestioned ruler of all North Africa.

The Khalif determined to entrust the invasion of Egypt to Jawhar, who

had so clearly proved his efficiency in the reduction of the Maghrab,

but just about this time Jawhar fell ill. Al-Moʿizz was not willing

to replace him, and continued his preparations, assembling troops and

supplies at Raqada: every day he visited the general who, as soon as his

health was sufficiently restored, the order to advance was given.

Jawhar was the commander of the Fatimid force, but with him was another

who played an important part in the subsequent construction of the

Fatimid state in Egypt. Yaqub b. Killis was a native of Baghdad, by

origin and for many years by religion a Jew. His father sent him first

to Syria, then to Egypt, where he became a chamberlain to Kafur, then

received a seat on the privy council and acted as accountant and

treasurer. He became a Muslim in 356. At Kafur’s death he was arrested

by his rival the wazir Ibn al-Furat, but by bribing his gaolers he

managed to escape and fled to Kairawan. The expedition against Egypt was

already in full preparation, but he joined himself with Jawhar and proved

a useful adviser. He was commonly regarded as the instigator of the

enterprise, but this does not seem to be accurate.

A Short History of the Fatimid Khalifate · 第 8 / 23 段