savant who was entrusted by Hárún al-Rashíd with the education of his
sons Amín and Ma’mún; al-Farrá († 822 A.D.), a pupil and compatriot of
al-Kisá’í; al-Mufaḍḍal al-Ḑabbí, a favourite of the Caliph
Mahdí, for whom he compiled an excellent anthology of Pre-islamic poems
(_al-Mufaḍḍaliyyát_), which has already been noticed[644]; Ibnu
’l-Sikkít, whose outspoken partiality for the House of ‘Alí b. Abí
Ṭálib caused him to be brutally trampled to death by the Turkish
guards of the tyrant Mutawakkil (858 A.D.); and Tha‘lab, head of the
Kúfa school in his time († 904 A.D.), of whose rivalry with al-Mubarrad
many stories are told. A contemporary, Abú Bakr b. Abi ’l-Azhar, said in
one of his poems:--
"Turn to Mubarrad or to Tha‘lab, thou
That seek'st with learning to improve thy mind!
Be not a fool, like mangy camel shunned:
All human knowledge thou with them wilt find.
The science of the whole world, East and West,
In these two single doctors is combined."[645]
Reference has been made in a former chapter to some of the earliest
Humanists, _e.g._, Ḥammád al-Ráwiya († 776 A.D.) and his slightly
younger contemporary, Khalaf al-Aḥmar, to their inestimable labours
in rescuing the old poetry from oblivion, and to the unscrupulous
methods which they sometimes employed.[646] Among their successors, who
flourished in the Golden Age of Islam, under the first ‘Abbásids, the
place of honour belongs to Abú ‘Ubayda († about 825 A.D.) and al-Asma‘í
(† about 830 A.D.).
[Sidenote: Abú ‘Ubayda.]
[Sidenote: Aṣma‘í.]
Abú ‘Ubayda Ma‘mar b. al-Muthanná was of Jewish-Persian race, and
maintained in his writings the cause of the Shu‘úbites against the Arab
national party, for which reason he is erroneously described as a
Khárijite.[647] The rare expressions of the Arabic language, the history
of the Arabs and their conflicts were his predominant study--"neither in
heathen nor Muḥammadan times," he once boasted, "have two horses met
in battle but that I possess information about them and their
riders"[648]; yet, with all his learning, he was not always able to
recite a verse without mangling it; even in reading the Koran, with the
book before his eyes, he made mistakes.[649] Our knowledge of Arabian
antiquity is drawn, to a large extent, from the traditions collected by
him which are preserved in the _Kitábu ’l-Aghání_ and elsewhere. He left
nearly two hundred works, of which a long but incomplete catalogue
occurs in the _Fihrist_ (pp. 53-54). Abú ‘Ubayda was summoned by the
Caliph Hárún al-Rashíd to Baghdád, where he became acquainted with
Aṣma‘í. There was a standing feud between them, due in part to
difference of character[650] and in part to personal jealousies. ‘Abdu
’l-Malik b. Qurayb al-Aṣma‘í was, like his rival, a native of
Baṣra. Although he may have been excelled by others of his
contemporaries in certain branches of learning, none exhibited in such
fine perfection the varied literary culture which at that time was so
highly prized and so richly rewarded. Whereas Abú ‘Ubayda was dreaded
for his sharp tongue and sarcastic humour, Aṣma‘í had all the
accomplishments and graces of a courtier. Abú Nuwás, the first great
poet of the ‘Abbásid period, said that Aṣma‘í was a nightingale to
charm those who heard him with his melodies. In court circles, where the
talk often turned on philological matters, he was a favourite guest, and
the Caliph would send for him to decide any abstruse question connected
with literature which no one present was able to answer. Of his numerous
writings on linguistic and antiquarian themes several have come down to
us, _e.g._, 'The Book of Camels' (_Kitábu ’l-Ibil_), 'The Book of
Horses' (_Kitábu ’l-Khayl_), and 'The Book of the Making of Man'
(_Kitábu Khalqi ’l-Insán_), a treatise which shows that the Arabs of the
desert had acquired a considerable knowledge of human anatomy. His work
as editor, commentator, and critic of Arabian poetry forms (it has been
said) the basis of nearly all that has since been written on the
subject.
[Sidenote: Ibnu ’l-Muqaffa‘ († _circa_ 760 A.D.).]
[Sidenote: Ibn Qutayba († 899 A.D.).]
[Sidenote: Jáḥiẓ († 869 A.D.).]
[Sidenote: Ibn ‘Abdi Rabbihi († 940 A.D.).]
[Sidenote: Abu ’l-Faraj al-Iṣfahání († 967 A.D.).]
[Sidenote: Tha‘álibí († 1037 A.D.).]
Belles-lettres (_Adab_) and literary history are represented by a whole
series of valuable works. Only a few of the most important can be
mentioned here, and that in a very summary manner. The Persian Rúzbih,
better known as ‘Abdulláh Ibnu ’l-Muqaffa‘, who was put to death by
order of the Caliph Manṣúr, made several translations from the
Pehleví or Middle-Persian literature into Arabic. We possess a specimen
of his powers in the famous _Book of Kalíla and Dimna_, which is
ultimately derived from the Sanscrit _Fables of Bidpai_. The Arabic
version is one of the oldest prose works in that language, and is justly
regarded as a model of elegant style, though it has not the pungent
brevity which marks true Arabian eloquence. Ibn Qutayba, whose family
came from Merv, held for a time the office of Cadi at Dínawar, and lived
at Baghdád in the latter half of the ninth century. We have more than
once cited his 'Book of General Knowledge' (_Kitábu ’l-Ma‘árif_)[651]
and his 'Book of Poetry and Poets,' (_Kitábu ’l-Shi‘r wa-’l-Shu‘ará_),
and may add here the _Adabu ’l-Kátib_, or 'Accomplishments of the
Secretary,'[652] a manual of stylistic, dealing with orthography,
orthoepy, lexicography, and the like; and the _‘Uyúnu ’l-Akhbár_, or
'Choice Histories,'[653] a work in ten chapters, each of which is
devoted to a special theme such as Government, War, Nobility,
Friendship, Women, &c. ‘Amr b. Baḥr al-Jáḥiẓ of Baṣra was a
celebrated freethinker, and gave his name to a sect of the Mu‘tazilites
(_al-Jáḥiẓiyya_).[654] He composed numerous books of an anecdotal
and entertaining character. Ibn Khallikán singles out as his finest and
most instructive works the _Kitábu ’l-Ḥayawán_ ('Book of Animals'),
and the _Kitábu ’l-Bayán wa-’l-Tabyín_ ('Book of Eloquence and
Exposition'), which is a popular treatise on rhetoric. It so
happens--and the fact is not altogether fortuitous--that extremely
valuable contributions to the literary history of the Arabs were made by
two writers connected with the Umayyad House. Ibn ‘Abdi Rabbihi of
Cordova, who was descended from an enfranchised slave of the Spanish
Umayyad Caliph, Hishám b. ‘Abd al-Raḥmán (788-796 A.D.), has left us
a miscellaneous anthology entitled _al-‘Iqd al-Faríd_, or 'The Unique
Necklace,' which is divided into twenty-five books, each bearing the
name of a different gem, and "contains something on every subject."
Though Abu ’l-Faraj ‘Alí, the author of the _Kitábu ’l-Aghání_, was born
at Iṣfahán, he was an Arab of the Arabs, being a member of the tribe
Quraysh and a lineal descendant of Marwán, the last Umayyad Caliph.
Coming to Baghdád, he bent all his energies to the study of Arabian
antiquity, and towards the end of his life found a generous patron in
al-Muhallabí, the Vizier of the Buwayhid sovereign, Mu‘izzu ’l-Dawla.
His minor works are cast in the shade by his great 'Book of Songs.' This
may be described as a history of all the Arabian poetry that had been
set to music down to the author's time. It is based on a collection of
one hundred melodies which was made for the Caliph Hárún al-Rashíd, but
to these Abu ’l-Faraj has added many others chosen by himself. After
giving the words and the airs attached to them, he relates the lives of
the poets and musicians by whom they were composed, and takes occasion
to introduce a vast quantity of historical traditions and anecdotes,
including much ancient and modern verse. It is said that the Ṣáḥib
Ibn ‘Abbád,[655] when travelling, used to take thirty camel-loads of
books about with him, but on receiving the _Aghání_ he contented himself
with this one book and dispensed with all the rest.[656] The chief man
of letters of the next generation was Abú Mansúr al-Tha‘álibí (the
Furrier) of Naysábúr. Notwithstanding that most of his works are
unscientific compilations, designed to amuse the public rather than to
impart solid instruction, his famous anthology of recent and
contemporary poets--the _Yatímatu ’l-Dahr_, or 'Solitaire of the
Time'--supplies indubitable proof of his fine scholarship and critical
taste. Successive continuations of the _Yatíma_ were written by
al-Bákharzí († 1075 A.D.) in the _Dumyatu ’l-Qaṣr_, or 'Statue of the
Palace'; by Abu ’l-Ma‘álí al-Ḥaẓírí († 1172 A.D.) in the _Zínatu
’l-Dahr_, or 'Ornament of the Time'; and by the favourite of Saladin,
‘Imádu ’l-Dín al-Kátib al-Iṣfahání († 1201 A.D.), in the _Kharídatu
’l-Qaṣr_, or 'Virgin Pearl of the Palace.' From the tenth century
onward the study of philology proper began to decline, while on the
other hand those sciences which formerly grouped themselves round
philology now became independent, were cultivated with brilliant
success, and in a short time reached their zenith.
[Sidenote: History.]
The elements of History are found (1) in Pre-islamic traditions and (2)
in the _Ḥadíth_ of the Prophet, but the idea of historical
composition on a grand scale was probably suggested to the Arabs by
Persian models such as the Pehleví _Khudáy-náma_, or 'Book of Kings,'
which Ibnu ’l-Muqaffa‘ turned into Arabic in the eighth century of our
era under the title of _Siyaru Mulúki ’l-‘Ajam_, that is, 'The History
of the Kings of Persia.'
Under the first head Hishám Ibnu ’l-Kalbí († 819 A.D.) and his father
Muḥammad deserve particular mention as painstaking and trustworthy
recorders.
[Sidenote: Histories of the Prophet and his Companions.]
Historical traditions relating to the Prophet were put in writing at an
early date (see p. 247). The first biography of Muḥammad (_Síratu
Rasúli ’lláh_), compiled by Ibn Isḥáq, who died in the reign of
Manṣúr (768 A.D.), has come down to us only in the recension made by
Ibn Hishám († 834 A.D.). This work as well as those of al-Wáqidí († 823
A.D.) and Ibn Sa‘d († 845 A.D.) have been already noticed.
Other celebrated historians of the ‘Abbásid period are the following.
[Sidenote: Baládhurí.]
Aḥmad b. Yaḥyá al-Baládhurí († 892 A.D.), a Persian, wrote an
account of the early Muḥammadan conquests (_Kitábu Futúḥi
’l-Buldán_), which has been edited by De Goeje, and an immense chronicle
based on genealogical principles, 'The Book of the Lineages of the
Nobles' (_Kitábu Ansábi ’l-Ashráf_), of which two volumes are
extant.[657]
[Sidenote: Dínawarí.]
Abú Ḥánífa Aḥmad al-Dínawarí († 895 A.D.) was also of Íránian
descent. His 'Book of Long Histories' (_Kitábu ’l-Akhbár al-Ṭiwál_)
deals largely with the national legend of Persia, and is written
throughout from the Persian point of view.
[Sidenote: Ya‘qúbí.]
Ibn Wáḍiḥ al-Ya‘qúbí, a contemporary of Dínawarí, produced an
excellent compendium of universal history, which is specially valuable
because its author, being a follower of the House of ‘Alí, has preserved
the ancient and unfalsified Shí‘ite tradition. His work has been edited
in two volumes by Professor Houtsma (Leyden, 1883).
The Annals of Ṭabarí, edited by De Goeje and other European scholars
(Leyden, 1879-1898), and the Golden Meadows[658] (_Murúju ’l-Dhahab_) of
Mas‘údí, which Pavet de Courteille and Barbier de Meynard published with
a French translation (Paris, 1861-1877), have been frequently cited in
the foregoing pages; and since these two authors are not only the
greatest historians of the Muḥammadan East but also (excepting,
possibly, Ibn Khaldún) the most eminent of all who devoted themselves to
this branch of Arabic literature, we must endeavour to make the reader
more closely acquainted with them.
[Sidenote: Ṭabarí (838-923 A.D.).]
Abú Ja‘far Muḥammad b. Jarír was born in 838-839 A.D. at Ámul in
Ṭabaristán, the mountainous province lying along the south coast of
the Caspian Sea; whence the name, Ṭabarí, by which he is usually
known.[659] At this time ‘Iráq was still the principal focus of
Muḥammadan culture, so that a poet could say:--
"I see a man in whom the secretarial dignity is manifest,
One who displays the brilliant culture of ‘Iráq."[660]
Thither the young Ṭabarí came to complete his education. He travelled
by way of Rayy to Baghdád, visited other neighbouring towns, and
extended his tour to Syria and Egypt. Although his father sent him a
yearly allowance, it did not always arrive punctually, and he himself
relates that on one occasion he procured bread by selling the sleeves of
his shirt. Fortunately, at Baghdád he was introduced to ‘Ubaydulláh b.
Yaḥyá, the Vizier of Mutawakkil, who engaged him as tutor for his
son. How long he held this post is uncertain, but he was only
twenty-three years of age when his patron went out of office. Fifteen
years later we find him, penniless once more, in Cairo (876-877 A.D.).
He soon, however, returned to Baghdád, where he passed the remainder of
his life in teaching and writing. Modest, unselfish, and simple in his
habits, he diffused his encyclopædic knowledge with an almost superhuman
industry. During forty years, it is said, he wrote forty leaves every
day. His great works are the _Ta’ríkhu ’l-Rusul wa-’l-Mulúk_, or 'Annals
of the Apostles and the Kings,' and his _Tafsír_, or 'Commentary on the
Koran.' Both, even in their present shape, are books of enormous extent,
yet it seems likely that both were originally composed on a far larger
scale and were abbreviated by the author for general use. His pupils, we
are told, flatly refused to read the first editions with him, whereupon
he exclaimed: "Enthusiasm for learning is dead!" The History of
Ṭabarí, from the Creation to the year 302 A.H. = 915 A.D., is
distinguished by "completeness of detail, accuracy, and the truly
stupendous learning of its author that is revealed throughout, and that
makes the Annals a vast storehouse of valuable information for the
historian as well as for the student of Islam."[661] It is arranged
chronologically, the events being tabulated under the year (of the
Muḥammadan era) in which they occurred. Moreover, it has a very
peculiar form. "Each important fact is related, if possible, by an
eye-witness or contemporary, whose account came down through a series of
narrators to the author. If he has obtained more than one account of a
fact, with more or less important modifications, through several series
of narrators, he communicates them all to the reader _in extenso_. Thus
we are enabled to consider the facts from more than one point of view,
and to acquire a vivid and clear notion of them."[662] According to
modern ideas, Ṭabarí's compilation is not so much a history as a
priceless collection of original documents placed side by side without
any attempt to construct a critical and continuous narrative. At first
sight one can hardly see the wood for the trees, but on closer study the
essential features gradually emerge and stand out in bold relief from
amidst the multitude of insignificant circumstances which lend freshness
and life to the whole. Ṭabarí suffered the common fate of standard
historians. His work was abridged and popularised, the _isnáds_ or
chains of authorities were suppressed, and the various parallel accounts
were combined by subsequent writers into a single version.[663] Of the
Annals, as it left the author's hands, no entire copy exists anywhere,
but many odd volumes are preserved in different parts of the world. The
Leyden edition is based on these scattered MSS., which luckily comprise
the whole work with the exception of a few not very serious lacunæ.
[Sidenote: Mas‘údí († 956 A.D.).]
‘Alí b. Ḥusayn, a native of Baghdád, was called Mas‘údí after one of
the Prophet's Companions, ‘Abdulláh b. Mas‘úd, to whom he traced his
descent. Although we possess only a small remnant of his voluminous
writings, no better proof can be desired of the vast and various
erudition which he gathered not from books alone, but likewise from long
travel in almost every part of Asia. Among other places, he visited
Armenia, India, Ceylon, Zanzibar, and Madagascar, and he appears to have
sailed in Chinese waters as well as in the Caspian Sea. "My journey," he
says, "resembles that of the sun, and to me the poet's verse is
applicable:--
"'We turn our steps toward each different clime,
Now to the Farthest East, then West once more;
Even as the sun, which stays not his advance
O'er tracts remote that no man durst explore.'"[664]
He spent the latter years of his life chiefly in Syria and Egypt--for he
had no settled abode--compiling the great historical works,[665] of
which the _Murúju ’l-Dhahab_ is an epitome. As regards the motives which
urged him to write, Mas‘údí declares that he wished to follow the
example of scholars and sages and to leave behind him a praiseworthy
memorial and imperishable monument. He claims to have taken a wider view
than his predecessors. "One who has never quitted his hearth and home,
but is content with the knowledge which he can acquire concerning the
history of his own part of the world, is not on the same level as one
who spends his life in travel and passes his days in restless
wanderings, and draws forth all manner of curious and precious
information from its hidden mine."[666]
[Sidenote: The _Murúju ’l-Dhahab_.]
Mas‘údí has been named the 'the Herodotus of the Arabs,' and the
comparison is not unjust.[667] His work, although it lacks the artistic
unity which distinguishes that of the Greek historian, shows the same
eager spirit of enquiry, the same open-mindedness and disposition to
record without prejudice all the marvellous things that he had heard or
seen, the same ripe experience and large outlook on the present as on
the past. It is professedly a universal history beginning with the
Creation and ending at the Caliphate of Muṭí‘, in 947 A.D., but no
description can cover the immense range of topics which are discussed
and the innumerable digressions with which the author delights or
irritates his readers, as the case may be.[668] Thus, to pick a few
examples at random, we find a dissertation on tides (vol. i, p. 244); an
account of the _tinnín_ or sea-serpent (_ibid._, p. 267); of
pearl-fishing in the Persian Gulf (_ibid._, p. 328); and of the
rhinoceros (_ibid._, p. 385). Mas‘údí was a keen student and critic of
religious beliefs, on which subject he wrote several books.[669] The
_Murúju ’l-Dhahab_ supplies many valuable details regarding the
Muḥammadan sects, and also regarding the Zoroastrians and Ṣábians. There
is a particularly interesting report of a meeting which took place
between Aḥmad b. Ṭúlún, the governor of Egypt (868-877 A.D.), and an
aged Copt, who, after giving his views as to the source of the Nile and
the construction of the Pyramids, defended his faith (Christianity) on
the ground of its manifest errors and contradictions, arguing that its
acceptance, in spite of these, by so many peoples and kings was decisive
evidence of its truth.[670] Mas‘údí's account of the Caliphs is chiefly
remarkable for the characteristic anecdotes in which it abounds. Instead
of putting together a methodical narrative he has thrown off a brilliant
but unequal sketch of public affairs and private manners, of social life
and literary history. Only considerations of space have prevented me
from enriching this volume with not a few pages which are as lively and
picturesque as any in Suetonius. His last work, the _Kitábu ’l-Tanbíh
wa-’l-Ishráf_ ('Book of Admonition and Recension'),[671] was intended to
take a general survey of the field which had been more fully traversed
in his previous compositions, and also to supplement them when it seemed
necessary.
[Sidenote: Minor historians.]
We must pass over the minor historians and biographers of this
period--for example, ‘Utbí († 1036 A.D.), whose _Kitáb al-Yamíní_
celebrates the glorious reign of Sultan Mahmúd of Ghazna; Khaṭíb of
Baghdád († 1071 A.D.), who composed a history of the eminent men of that
city; ‘Imádu ’l-Dín of Iṣfahán († 1201 A.D.), the biographer of
Saladin; Ibnu ’l-Qiftí († 1248 A.D.), born at Qifṭ (Coptos) in Upper
Egypt, whose lives of the philosophers and scientists have only come
down to us in a compendium entitled _Ta’ríkhu ’l-Ḥukamá_; Ibnu
’l-Jawzí († 1200 A.D.), a prolific writer in almost every branch of
literature, and his grandson, Yúsuf († 1257 A.D.)--generally called
Sibṭ Ibn al-Jawzí--author of the _Mir’átu ’l-Zamán_, or 'Mirror of
the Time'; Ibn Abí Uṣaybi‘a († 1270 A.D.), whose history of
physicians, the _‘Uyúnu ’l-Anbá_, has been edited by A. Müller (1884);
and the Christian, Jirjis (George) al-Makín († 1273 A.D.), compiler of a
universal chronicle--named the _Majmú‘ al-Mubárak_--of which the second
part, from Muḥammad to the end of the ‘Abbásid dynasty, was rendered
into Latin by Erpenius in 1625.
[Sidenote: Ibnu ’l-Athír († 1234 A.D.).]
A special notice, brief though it must be, is due to ‘Izzu ’l-Dín Ibnu
’l-Athír († 1234 A.D.). He was brought up at Mosul in Mesopotamia, and
after finishing his studies in Baghdád, Jerusalem, and Syria, he
returned home and devoted himself to reading and literary composition.
Ibn Khallikán, who knew him personally, speaks of him in the highest
terms both as a man and as a scholar. "His great work, the _Kámil_,[672]
embracing the history of the world from the earliest period to the year
628 of the Hijra (1230-1231 A.D.), merits its reputation as one of the
best productions of the kind."[673] Down to the year 302 A.H. the author
has merely abridged the Annals of Ṭabarí with occasional additions
from other sources. In the first volume he gives a long account of the
Pre-islamic battles (_Ayyámu ’l-‘Arab_) which is not found in the
present text of Ṭabarí; but De Goeje, as I learn from Professor
Bevan, thinks that this section was included in Ṭabarí's original
draft and was subsequently struck out. Ibnu ’l-Athír was deeply versed
in the science of Tradition, and his _Usdu ’l-Ghába_ ('Lions of the
Jungle') contains biographies of 7,500 Companions of the Prophet.
[Sidenote: Geographers.]
An immense quantity of information concerning the various countries and
peoples of the ‘Abbásid Empire has been preserved for us by the Moslem
geographers, who in many cases describe what they actually witnessed and
experienced in the course of their travels, although they often help
themselves liberally and without acknowledgment from the works of their
predecessors. The following list, which does not pretend to be
exhaustive, may find a place here.[674]
[Sidenote: Ibn Khurdádbih.]
1. The Persian Ibn Khurdádbih (first half of ninth century) was
postmaster in the province of Jibál, the Media of the ancients. His
_Kitábu ’l-Masálik wa-’l-Mamálik_ ('Book of the Roads and Countries'),
an official guide-book, is the oldest geographical work in Arabic that
has come down to us.
[Sidenote: Iṣṭakhrí and Ibn Ḥawqal.]
2. Abú Isḥáq al-Fárisí a native of Persepolis (Iṣṭakhr)--on
this account he is known as Iṣṭakhrí--wrote a book called
_Masáliku ’l-Mamálik_ ('Routes of the Provinces'), which was afterwards
revised and enlarged by Ibn Ḥawqal. Both works belong to the second
half of the tenth century and contain "a careful description of each
province in turn of the Muslim Empire, with the chief cities and notable
places."
[Sidenote: Muqaddasí.]
3. Al-Muqaddasí (or al-Maqdisí), _i.e._, 'the native of the Holy City',
was born at Jerusalem in 946 A.D. In his delightful book entitled
_Aḥsanu ’l-Taqásím fí ma‘rifati ’l-Aqálím_ he has gathered up the
fruits of twenty years' travelling through the dominions of the
Caliphate.
[Sidenote: Yáqút.]
4. Omitting the Spanish Arabs, Bakrí, Idrísí, and Ibn Jubayr, all of
whom flourished in the eleventh century, we come to the greatest of
Moslem geographers, Yáqút b. ‘Abdalláh (1179-1229 A.D.). A Greek by
birth, he was enslaved in his childhood and sold to a merchant of
Baghdád. His master gave him a good education and frequently sent him on
trading expeditions to the Persian Gulf and elsewhere. After being
enfranchised in consequence of a quarrel with his benefactor, he
supported himself by copying and selling manuscripts. In 1219-1220 A.D.
he encountered the Tartars, who had invaded Khwárizm, and "fled as naked
as when he shall be raised from the dust of the grave on the day of the
resurrection." Further details of his adventurous life are recorded in
the interesting notice by Ibn Khallikán.[675] His great Geographical
Dictionary (_Mu‘jamu ’l-Buldán_) has been edited in six volumes by
Wüstenfeld (Leipzig, 1866), and is described by Mr. Le Strange as "a
storehouse of geographical information, the value of which it would be
impossible to over-estimate." We possess a useful epitome of it, made
about a century later, viz., the _Maráṣidu ’l-Iṭṭilá‘_. Among
the few other extant works of Yáqút, attention maybe called to the
_Mushtarik_--a lexicon of places bearing the same name--and the _Mu‘jamu
’l-Udabá_, or 'Dictionary of Littérateurs,' which has been edited by
Professor Margoliouth for the Trustees of the Gibb Memorial Fund.
[Sidenote: The foreign sciences.]
[Sidenote: Translations from the Greek.]
[Sidenote: Ma’mún's encouragement of the New Learning.]
As regards the philosophical and exact sciences the Moslems naturally
derived their ideas and material from Greek culture, which had
established itself in Egypt, Syria, and Western Asia since the time of
Alexander's conquests. When the Syrian school of Edessa was broken up by
ecclesiastical dissensions towards the end of the fifth century of our
era, the expelled savants took refuge in Persia at the Sásánian court,
and Khusraw Anúshirwán, or Núshírwán (531-578 A.D.)--the same monarch
who welcomed the Neo-platonist philosophers banished from Athens by
Justinian--founded an Academy at Jundé-shápúr in Khúzistán, where Greek
medicine and philosophy continued to be taught down to ‘Abbásid days.
Another centre of Hellenism was the city of Ḥarrán in Mesopotamia.
Its inhabitants, Syrian heathens who generally appear in Muḥammadan
history under the name of 'Ṣábians,' spoke Arabic with facility and
contributed in no small degree to the diffusion of Greek wisdom. The
work of translation was done almost entirely by Syrians. In the
monasteries of Syria and Mesopotamia the writings of Aristotle, Galen,
Ptolemy, and other ancient masters were rendered with slavish fidelity,
and these Syriac versions were afterwards retranslated into Arabic. A
beginning was made under the Umayyads, who cared little for Islam but
were by no means indifferent to the claims of literature, art, and
science. An Umayyad prince, Khálid b. Yazíd, procured the translation of
Greek and Coptic works on alchemy, and himself wrote three treatises on
that subject. The accession of the ‘Abbásids gave a great impulse to
such studies, which found an enlightened patron in the Caliph Manṣúr.
Works on logic and medicine were translated from the Pehleví by Ibnu
’l-Muqaffa‘ († about 760 A.D.) and others. It is, however, the splendid
reign of Ma’mún (813-833 A.D.) that marks the full vigour of this
Oriental Renaissance. Ma’mún was no ordinary man. Like a true Persian,
he threw himself heart and soul into theological speculations and used
the authority of the Caliphate to enforce a liberal standard of
orthodoxy. His interest in science was no less ardent. According to a
story told in the _Fihrist_,[676] he dreamed that he saw the venerable
figure of Aristotle seated on a throne, and in consequence of this
vision he sent a deputation to the Roman Emperor (Leo the Armenian) to
obtain scientific books for translation into Arabic. The Caliph's
example was followed by private individuals. Three brothers,
Muḥammad, Aḥmad, and Ḥasan, known collectively as the Banú
Músá, "drew translators from distant countries by the offer of ample
rewards[677] and thus made evident the marvels of science. Geometry,
engineering, the movements of the heavenly bodies, music, and astronomy
were the principal subjects to which they turned their attention; but
these were only a small number of their acquirements."[678] Ma’mún
installed them, with Yaḥyá b. Abí Manṣúr and other scientists, in
the House of Wisdom (_Baytu ’l-Ḥikma_) at Baghdád, an institution
which comprised a well-stocked library and an astronomical observatory.
Among the celebrated translators of the ninth century, who were
themselves conspicuous workers in the new field, we can only mention the
Christians Qusṭá b. Lúqá and Ḥunayn b. Isḥáq, and the Ṣábian
Thábit b. Qurra. It does not fall within the scope of this volume to
consider in detail the achievements of the Moslems in science and
philosophy. That in some departments they made valuable additions to
existing knowledge must certainly be granted, but these discoveries
count for little in comparison with the debt which we owe to the Arabs
as pioneers of learning and bringers of light to mediæval Europe.[679]
Meanwhile it is only possible to enumerate a few of the most eminent
philosophers and scientific men who lived during the ‘Abbásid age. The
reader will observe that with rare exceptions they were of foreign
origin.
The leading spirits in philosophy were:--
[Sidenote: Kindí.]
1. Ya‘qúb b. Isḥáq al-Kindí, a descendant of the princely family of
Kinda (see p. 42). He was distinguished by his contemporaries with the
title _Faylasúfu ’l-‘Arab_, 'The Philosopher of the Arabs.' He
flourished in the first half of the ninth century.
[Sidenote: Fárábí.]
2. Abú Naṣr al-Fárábí († 950 A.D.), of Turkish race, a native of
Fáráb in Transoxania. The later years of his life were passed at Aleppo
under the patronage of Sayfu ’l-Dawla. He devoted himself to the study
of Aristotle, whom Moslems agree with Dante in regarding as "il maestro
di color che sanno."
[Sidenote: Ibn Síná.]
3. Abú ‘Alí Ibn Síná (Avicenna), born of Persian parents at Kharmaythan,
near Bukhárá, in the year 980 A.D. As a youth he displayed extraordinary
talents, so that "in the sixteenth year of his age physicians of the
highest eminence came to read medicine with him and to learn those modes
of treatment which he had discovered by his practice."[680] He was no
quiet student, like Fárábí, but a pleasure-loving, adventurous man of
the world who travelled from court to court, now in favour, now in
disgrace, and always writing indefatigably. His system of philosophy, in
which Aristotelian and Neo-platonic theories are combined with Persian
mysticism, was well suited to the popular taste, and in the East it
still reigns supreme. His chief works are the _Shifá_ (Remedy) on
physics, metaphysics, &c., and a great medical encyclopædia entitled the
_Qánún_ (Canon). Avicenna died in 1037 A.D.
4. The Spanish philosophers, Ibn Bájja (Avempace), Ibn Ṭufayl, and
Ibn Rushd (Averroes), all of whom flourished in the twelfth century
after Christ.
[Sidenote: Medicine, Astronomy, and Mathematics.]
[Sidenote: Bírúní 973-1048 A.D.]
The most illustrious name beside Avicenna in the history of Arabian
medicine is Abú Bakr al-Rází (Rhazes), a native of Rayy, near Teheran (†
923 or 932 A.D.). Jábir b. Ḥayyán of Tarsus († about 780 A.D.)--the
Geber of European writers--won equal renown as an alchemist. Astronomy
went hand in hand with astrology. The reader may recognise al-Farghání,
Abú Ma‘shar of Balkh († 885 A.D.) and al-Battání, a Ṣábian of
Ḥarrán († 929 A.D.), under the names of Alfraganus, Albumaser, and
Albategnius, by which they became known in the West. Abú ‘Abdalláh
al-Khwárizmí, who lived in the Caliphate of Ma’mún, was the first of a
long line of mathematicians. In this science, as also in Medicine and
Astronomy, we see the influence of India upon Muḥammadan
civilisation--an influence, however, which, in so far as it depended on
literary sources, was more restricted and infinitely less vital than
that of Greece. Only a passing reference can be made to Abú Rayḥán
al-Bírúní, a native of Khwárizm (Khiva), whose knowledge of the
sciences, antiquities, and customs of India was such as no Moslem had
ever equalled. His two principal works, the _Áthár al-Báqiya_, or
'Surviving Monuments,' and the _Ta’ríkhu ’l-Hind_, or 'History of
India,' have been edited and translated into English by Dr. Sachau.[681]
[Sidenote: The _Fihrist_.]
Some conception of the amazing intellectual activity of the Moslems
during the earlier part of the ‘Abbásid period, and also of the enormous
losses which Arabic literature has suffered through the destruction of
thousands of books that are known to us by nothing beyond their titles
and the names of their authors, may be gained from the _Fihrist_, or
'Index' of Muḥammad b. Isḥáq b. Abí Ya‘qúb al-Nadím al-Warráq
al-Baghdádí († 995 A.D.). Regarding the compiler we have no further
information than is conveyed in the last two epithets attached to his
name: he was a copyist of MSS., and was connected with Baghdád either by
birth or residence; add that, according to his own statement (p. 349, l.
14 sqq.), he was at Constantinople (_Dáru ’l-Rúm_) in 988 A.D., the same
year in which his work was composed. He may possibly have been related
to the famous musician, Isḥáq b. Ibráhím al-Nadím of Mosul († 849-850
A.D.), but this has yet to be proved. At any rate we owe to his industry
a unique conspectus of the literary history of the Arabs to the end of
the fourth century after the Flight. The _Fihrist_ (as the author
explains in his brief Preface) is "an Index of the books of all nations,
Arabs and foreigners alike, which are extant in the Arabic language and
script, on every branch of knowledge; comprising information as to their
compilers and the classes of their authors, together with the
genealogies of those persons, the dates of their birth, the length of
their lives, the times of their death, the places to which they
belonged, their merits and their faults, since the beginning of every
science that has been invented down to the present epoch: namely, the
year 377 of the Hijra." As the contents of the _Fihrist_ (which
considerably exceed the above description) have been analysed in detail
by G. Flügel (_Z.D.M.G._, vol. 13, p. 559 sqq.) and set forth in tabular
form by Professor Browne in the first volume of his _Literary History of
Persia_,[682] I need only indicate the general arrangement and scope of
the work. It is divided into ten discourses (_maqálát_), which are
subdivided into a varying number of sections (_funún_). Ibnu ’l-Nadím
discusses, in the first place, the languages, scripts, and sacred books
of the Arabs and other peoples, the revelation of the Koran, the order
of its chapters, its collectors, redactors, and commentators. Passing
next to the sciences which, as we have seen, arose from study of the
Koran and primarily served as handmaids to theology, he relates the
origin of Grammar, and gives an account of the different schools of
grammarians with the treatises which they wrote. The third discourse
embraces History, Belles-Lettres, Biography, and Genealogy; the fourth
treats of Poetry, ancient and modern. Scholasticism (_Kalám_) forms the
subject of the following chapter, which contains a valuable notice of
the Ismá‘ílís and their founder, ‘Abdulláh b. Maymún, as also of the
celebrated mystic, Ḥusayn b. Manṣúr al-Ḥalláj. From these and
many other names redolent of heresy the author returns to the orthodox
schools of Law--the Málikites, Ḥanafites, Sháfi‘ites and
Ẓáhirites; then to the jurisconsults of the Shí‘a, &c. The seventh
discourse deals with Philosophy and 'the Ancient Sciences,' under which
head we find some curious speculations concerning their origin and
introduction to the lands of Islam; a list of translators and the books
which they rendered into Arabic; an account of the Greek philosophers
from Thales to Plutarch, with the names of their works that were known
to the Moslems; and finally a literary survey of the remaining sciences,
such as Mathematics, Music, Astronomy, and Medicine. Here, by an abrupt
transition, we enter the enchanted domain of Oriental fable--the _Hazár
Afsán_, or Thousand Tales, Kalíla and Dimna, the Book of Sindbád, and
the legends of Rustam and Isfandiyár; works on sorcery, magic,
conjuring, amulets, talismans, and the like. European savants have long
recognised the importance of the ninth discourse,[683] which is devoted
to the doctrines and writings of the Ṣábians and the Dualistic sects
founded by Manes, Bardesanes, Marcion, Mazdak, and other heresiarchs.
The author concludes his work with a chapter on the Alchemists
(_al-Kímiyá’ún_).
CHAPTER VIII
ORTHODOXY, FREE-THOUGHT, AND MYSTICISM
[Sidenote: The ‘Abbásids and Islam.]
[Sidenote: Influence of theologians.]
We have already given some account of the great political revolution
which took place under the ‘Abbásid dynasty, and we have now to consider
the no less vital influence of the new era in the field of religion. It
will be remembered that the House of ‘Abbás came forward as champions of
Islam and of the oppressed and persecuted Faithful. Their victory was a
triumph for the Muḥammadan over the National idea. "They wished, as
they said, to revive the dead Tradition of the Prophet. They brought the
experts in Sacred Law from Medína, which had hitherto been their home,
to Baghdád, and always invited their approbation by taking care that
even political questions should be treated in legal form and decided in
accordance with the Koran and the Sunna. In reality, however, they used
Islam only to serve their own interest. They tamed the divines at their
court and induced them to sanction the most objectionable measures. They
made the pious Opposition harmless by leading it to victory. With the
downfall of the Umayyads it had gained its end and could now rest in
peace."[684] There is much truth in this view of the matter, but
notwithstanding the easy character of their religion, the ‘Abbásid
Caliphs were sincerely devoted to the cause of Islam and zealous to
maintain its principles in public life. They regarded themselves as the
sovereign defenders of the Faith; added the Prophet's mantle
(_al-burda_) to those emblems of Umayyad royalty, the sceptre and the
seal; delighted in the pompous titles which their flatterers conferred
on them, _e.g._, 'Vicegerent of God,' 'Sultan of God upon the Earth,'
'Shadow of God,' &c.; and left no stone unturned to invest themselves
with the attributes of theocracy, and to inspire their subjects with
veneration.[685] Whereas the Umayyad monarchs ignored or crushed
Muḥammadan sentiment, and seldom made any attempt to conciliate the
leading representatives of Islam, the ‘Abbásids, on the other hand, not
only gathered round their throne all the most celebrated theologians of
the day, but also showed them every possible honour, listened
respectfully to their counsel, and allowed them to exert a commanding
influence on the administration of the State.[686] When Málik b. Anas
was summoned by the Caliph Hárún al-Rashíd, who wished to hear him
recite traditions, Málik replied, "People come to seek knowledge." So
Hárún went to Málik's house, and leaned against the wall beside him.
Málik said, "O Prince of the Faithful, whoever honours God, honours
knowledge." Al-Rashíd arose and seated himself at Malik's feet and spoke
to him and heard him relate a number of traditions handed down from the
Apostle of God. Then he sent for Sufyán b. ‘Uyayna, and Sufyán came to
him and sat in his presence and recited traditions to him. Afterwards
al-Rashíd said, "O Málik, we humbled ourselves before thy knowledge, and
profited thereby, but Sufyán's knowledge humbled itself to us, and we
got no good from it."[687] Many instances might be given of the high
favour which theologians enjoyed at this time, and of the lively
interest with which religious topics were debated by the Caliph and his
courtiers. As the Caliphs gradually lost their temporal sovereignty, the
influence of the _‘Ulamá_--the doctors of Divinity and Law--continued to
increase, so that ere long they formed a privileged class, occupying in
Islam a position not unlike that of the priesthood in mediæval
Christendom.
It will be convenient to discuss the religious phenomena of the ‘Abbásid
period under the following heads:--
I. Rationalism and Free-thought.
II. The Orthodox Reaction and the rise of Scholastic Theology.
III. The Ṣúfí Mysticism.
[Sidenote: Rationalism and Free-thought.]
I. The first century of ‘Abbásid rule was marked, as we have seen, by a
great intellectual agitation. All sorts of new ideas were in the air. It
was an age of discovery and awakening. In a marvellously brief space the
diverse studies of Theology, Law, Medicine, Philosophy, Mathematics,
Astronomy, and Natural Science attained their maturity, if not their
highest development. Even if some pious Moslems looked askance at the
foreign learning and its professors, an enlightened spirit generally
prevailed. People took their cue from the court, which patronised, or at
least tolerated,[688] scientific research as well as theological
speculation.
[Sidenote: The Mu‘tazilites and their opponents.]
These circumstances enabled the Mu‘tazilites (see p. 222 sqq.) to
propagate their liberal views without hindrance, and finally to carry
their struggle against the orthodox party to a successful issue. It was
the same conflict that divided Nominalists and Realists in the days of
Thomas Aquinas, Duns Scotus, and Occam. As often happens when momentous
principles are at stake, the whole controversy between Reason and
Revelation turned on a single question--"Is the Koran created or
uncreated?" In other terms, is it the work of God or the Word of God?
According to orthodox belief, it is uncreated and has existed with God
from all eternity, being in its present form merely a transcript of the
heavenly archetype.[689] Obviously this conception of the Koran as the
direct and literal Word of God left no room for exercise of the
understanding, but required of those who adopted it a dumb faith and a
blind fatalism. There were many to whom the sacrifice did not seem too
great. The Mu‘tazilites, on the contrary, asserted their intellectual
freedom. It was possible, they said, to know God and distinguish good
from evil without any Revelation at all. They admitted that the Koran
was God's work, in the sense that it was produced by a divinely inspired
Prophet, but they flatly rejected its deification. Some went so far as
to criticise the 'inimitable' style, declaring that it could be
surpassed in beauty and eloquence by the art of man.[690]
[Sidenote: Rationalism adopted and put in force by the Caliph Ma’mún.]
[Sidenote: Mutawakkil returns to orthodoxy.]
The Mu‘tazilite controversy became a burning question in the reign of
Ma’mún (813-833 A.D.), a Caliph whose scientific enthusiasm and keen
interest in religious matters we have already mentioned. He did not
inherit the orthodoxy of his father, Hárún al-Rashíd; and it was
believed that he was at heart a _zindíq_. His liberal tendencies would
have been wholly admirable if they had not been marred by excessive
intolerance towards those who held opposite views to his own. In 833
A.D., the year of his death, he promulgated a decree which bound all
Moslems to accept the Mu‘tazilite doctrine as to the creation of the
Koran on pain of losing their civil rights, and at the same time he
established an inquisition (_miḥna_) in order to obtain the assent of
the divines, judges, and doctors of law. Those who would not take the
test were flogged and threatened with the sword. After Ma’mún's death
the persecution still went on, although it was conducted in a more
moderate fashion. Popular feeling ran strongly against the Mu‘tazilites.
The most prominent figure in the orthodox camp was the Imám Aḥmad b.
Ḥanbal, who firmly resisted the new dogma from the first. "But for
him," says the Sunnite historian, Abu ’l-Maḥásin, "the beliefs of a
great number would have been corrupted."[691] Neither threats nor
entreaties could shake his resolution, and when he was scourged by
command of the Caliph Mu‘taṣim, the palace was in danger of being
wrecked by an angry mob which had assembled outside to hear the result
of the trial. The Mu‘tazilite dogma remained officially in force until
it was abandoned by the Caliph Wáthiq and once more declared heretical
by the cruel and bigoted Mutawakkil (847 A.D.). From that time to this
the victorious party have sternly suppressed every rationalistic
movement in Islam.
[Sidenote: The end of the Mu‘tazilites.]
According to Steiner, the original Mu‘tazilite heresy arose in the bosom
of Islam, independently of any foreign influence, but, however that may
be, its later development was largely affected by Greek philosophy. We
need not attempt to follow the recondite speculations of Abú Hudhayl
al-‘Alláf († about 840 A.D.) of his contemporaries, al-Naẓẓám,
Bishr b. al-Mu‘tamir, and others, and of the philosophical schools of
Baṣra and Baghdád in which the movement died away. Vainly they sought
to replace the Muḥammadan idea of God as will by the Aristotelian
conception of God as law. Their efforts to purge the Koran of
anthropomorphism made no impression on the faithful, who ardently hoped
to see God in Paradise face to face. What they actually achieved was
little enough. Their weapons of logic and dialectic were turned against
them with triumphant success, and scholastic theology was founded on the
ruins of Rationalism. Indirectly, however, the Mu‘tazilite principles
leavened Muḥammadan thought to a considerable extent and cleared the
way for other liberal movements, like the Fraternity of the _Ikhwánu
’l-Ṣafá_, which endeavoured to harmonise authority with reason, and
to construct a universal system of religious philosophy.
[Sidenote: The Ikhwánu ’l-Ṣafá.]
These 'Brethren of Purity,'[692] as they called themselves, compiled a
great encyclopædic work in fifty tractates (_Rasá’il_). Of the authors,
who flourished at Baṣra towards the end of the tenth century, five
are known to us by name: viz., Abú Sulaymán Muḥammad b. Ma‘shar
al-Bayusti or al-Muqaddasí (Maqdisí), Abu ’l-Ḥasan ‘Alí b. Hárún
al-Zanjání, Abú Aḥmad al-Mihrajání, al-‘Awfí, and Zayd b. Rifá‘a.
"They formed a society for the pursuit of holiness, purity, and truth,
and established amongst themselves a doctrine whereby they hoped to win
the approval of God, maintaining that the Religious Law was defiled by
ignorance and adulterated by errors, and that there was no means of
cleansing and purifying it except philosophy, which united the wisdom of
faith and the profit of research. They held that a perfect result would
be reached if Greek philosophy were combined with Arabian religion.
Accordingly they composed fifty tracts on every branch of philosophy,
theoretical as well as practical, added a separate index, and entitled
them the 'Tracts of the Brethren of Purity' (_Rasá’ilu Ikhwán
al-Ṣafá_). The authors of this work concealed their names, but
circulated it among the booksellers and gave it to the public. They
filled their pages with devout phraseology, religious parables,
metaphorical expressions, and figurative turns of style."[693] Nearly
all the tracts have been translated into German by Dieterici, who has
also drawn up an epitome of the whole encyclopædia in his _Philosophie
der Araber im X Jahrhundert_. It would take us too long to describe the
system of the _Ikhwán_, but the reader will find an excellent account of
it in Stanley Lane-Poole's _Studies in a Mosque_, 2nd ed., p. 176 sqq.
The view has recently been put forward that the Brethren of Purity were
in some way connected with the Ismá‘ílí propaganda, and that their
eclectic idealism represents the highest teaching of the Fátimids,
Carmathians, and Assassins. Strong evidence in support of this theory is
supplied by a MS. of the Bibliothèque Nationale (No. 2309 in De Slane's
Catalogue), which contains, together with fragments of the _Rasá’il_, a
hitherto unknown tract entitled the _Jámi‘a_ or 'Summary.'[694] The
latter purports to be the essence and crown of the fifty _Rasá’il_, it
is manifestly Ismá‘ílite in character, and, assuming that it is genuine,
we may, I think, agree with the conclusions which its discoverer, M. P.
Casanova, has stated in the following passage:--
[Sidenote: The doctrines of the Brethren of Purity identical with
the esoteric philosophy of the Ismá‘ílís.]
"Surtout je crois être dans le vrai en affirmant que les doctrines
philosophiques des Ismaïliens sont contenues tout entières dans les
Epîtres des Frères de la Pureté. Et c'est ce qui explique 'la
séduction extraordinaire que la doctrine exerçait sur des hommes
sérieux.'[695] En y ajoutant la croyance en l'_imám caché_ (_al-imám
al-mastúr_) qui doit apparaître un jour pour établir le bonheur
universel, elle réalisait la fusion de toutes les doctrines
idéalistes, du messianisme et du platonisme. Tant que l'imám restait
caché, il s'y mêlait encore une saveur de mystère qui attachait les
esprits les plus élevés.... En tous cas, on peut affirmer que les
Carmathes et les Assassins ont été profondément calomniés quand ils
ont été accusés par leurs adversaires d'athéisme et de débauche. Le
fetwa d'Ibn Taimiyyah, que j'ai cité plus haut, prétend que leur
dernier degré dans l'initiation (_al-balágh al-akbar_) est la
négation même du Créateur. Mais la _djâmi‘at_ que nous avons
découverte est, comme tout l'indique, le dernier degré de la science
des Frères de la Pureté et des Ismaïliens; il n'y a rien de fondé
dans une telle accusation. La doctrine apparait très pure, très
élevée, très simple même: je repète que c'est une sorte de
panthéisme mécaniste et esthétique qui est absolument opposé au
scepticisme et au matérialisme, car il repose sur l'harmonie
générale de toutes les parties du monde, harmonie voulue par le
Créateur parce qu'elle est la beauté même.
"Ma conclusion sera que nous avons là un exemple de plus dans
l'histoire d'une doctrine très pure et très élevée en théorie,
devenue, entre les mains des fanatiques et des ambitieux, une source
d'actes monstrueux et méritant l'infamie qui est attachée a ce nom
historique d'Assassins."
Besides the Mu‘tazilites, we hear much of another class of heretics who
are commonly grouped together under the name of _Zindíqs_.
[Sidenote: The _Zindíqs_.]
"It is well known," says Goldziher,[696] "that the earliest persecution
was directed against those individuals who managed more or less adroitly
to conceal under the veil of Islam old Persian religious ideas.
Sometimes indeed they did not consider any disguise to be necessary, but
openly set up dualism and other Persian or Manichæan doctrines, and the
practices associated therewith, against the dogma and usage of Islam.
Such persons were called _Zindíqs_, a term which comprises different
shades of heresy and hardly admits of simple definition. Firstly, there
are the old Persian families incorporated in Islam who, following the
same path as the Shu‘úbites, have a _national interest_ in the revival
of Persian religious ideas and traditions, and from this point of view
react against the _Arabian_ character of the Muḥammadan system. Then,
on the other hand, there are freethinkers, who oppose in particular the
stubborn dogma of Islam, reject _positive religion_, and acknowledge
only the moral law. Amongst the latter there is developed a monkish
asceticism extraneous to Islam and ultimately traceable to Buddhistic
influences."
[Sidenote: Persecution of _Zindíqs_.]
The ‘Abbásid Government, which sought to enforce an official standard of
belief, was far less favourable to religious liberty than the Umayyads
had been. Orthodox and heretic alike fell under its ban. While Ma’mún
harried pious Sunnites, his immediate predecessors raised a hue and cry
against _Zindíqs_. The Caliph Mahdí distinguished himself by an
organised persecution of these enemies of the faith. He appointed a
Grand Inquisitor (_Ṣáḥibu ’l-Zanádiqa_[697] or _‘Arífu
’l-Zanádiqa_) to discover and hunt them down. If they would not recant
when called upon, they were put to death and crucified, and their
books[698] were cut to pieces with knives.[699] Mahdí's example was
followed by Hádí and Hárún al-Rashíd. Some of the ‘Abbásids, however,
were less severe. Thus Khaṣíb, Manṣúr's physician, was a _Zindíq_
who professed Christianity,[700] and in the reign of Ma’mún it became
the mode to affect Manichæan opinions as a mark of elegance and
refinement.[701]
[Sidenote: Bashshár b. Burd.]
The two main types of _zandaqa_ which have been described above are
illustrated in the contemporary poets, Bashshár b. Burd and Ṣáliḥ
b. ‘Abd al-Quddús. Bashshár was born stone-blind. The descendant of a
noble Persian family--though his father, Burd, was a slave--he cherished
strong national sentiments and did not attempt to conceal his sympathy
with the Persian clients (_Mawálí_), whom he was accused of stirring up
against their Arab lords. He may also have had leanings towards
Zoroastrianism, but Professor Bevan has observed that there is no real
evidence for this statement,[702] though Zoroastrian or Manichæan views
are probably indicated by the fact that he used to dispute with a number
of noted Moslem theologians in Baṣra, _e.g._, with Wáṣil b.
‘Aṭá, who started the Mu‘tazilite heresy, and ‘Amr b. ‘Ubayd. He and
Ṣáliḥ b. ‘Abd al-Quddús were put to death by the Caliph Mahdí in
the same year (783 A.D.).
[Sidenote: Ṣáliḥ b. ‘Abd al-Quddús.]
This Ṣáliḥ belonged by birth or affiliation to the Arab tribe of
Azd. Of his life we know little beyond the circumstance that he was for
some time a street-preacher at Baṣra, and afterwards at Damascus. It
is possible that his public doctrine was thought dangerous, although the
preachers as a class were hand in glove with the Church and did not,
like the Lollards, denounce religious abuses.[703] His extant poetry
contains nothing heretical, but is wholly moral and didactic in
character. We have seen, however, in the case of Abu ’l-‘Atáhiya, that
Muḥammadan orthodoxy was apt to connect 'the philosophic mind' with
positive unbelief; and Ṣáliḥ appears to have fallen a victim to
this prejudice. He was accused of being a dualist (_thanawí_), _i.e._, a
Manichæan. Mahdí, it is said, conducted his examination in person, and
at first let him go free, but the poet's fate was sealed by his
confession that he was the author of the following verses:--
"The greybeard will not leave what in the bone is bred
Until the dark tomb covers him with earth o'erspread;
For, tho' deterred awhile, he soon returns again
To his old folly, as the sick man to his pain."[704]
[Sidenote: Abu ’l-‘Alá al-Ma‘arrí on the _Zindíqs_.]
Abu ’l-‘Alá al-Ma‘arrí, himself a bold and derisive critic of
Muḥammadan dogmas, devotes an interesting section of his _Risálatu
’l-Ghufrán_ to the _Zindíqs_, and says many hard things about them,
which were no doubt intended to throw dust in the eyes of a suspicious
audience. The wide scope of the term is shown by the fact that he
includes under it the pagan chiefs of Quraysh; the Umayyad Caliph Walíd
b. Yazíd; the poets Di‘bil, Abú Nuwás, Bashshár, and Ṣáliḥ b. ‘Abd
al-Quddús; Abú Muslim, who set up the ‘Abbásid dynasty; the Persian
rebels, Bábak and Mázyár; Afshín, who after conquering Bábak was starved
to death by the Caliph Mu‘taṣim; the Carmathian leader al-Jannábí;
Ibnu ’l-Ráwandí, whose work entitled the _Dámigh_ was designed to
discredit the 'miraculous' style of the Koran; and Ḥusayn b.
Manṣúr al-Ḥalláj, the Ṣúfí martyr. Most of these, one may
admit, fall within Abu ’l-‘Alá’s definition of the _Zindíqs_: "they
acknowledge neither prophet nor sacred book." The name _Zindíq_, which
is applied by Jáḥiẓ († 868 A.D.) to certain wandering monks,[705]
seems in the first instance to have been used of Manes (_Mání_) and his
followers, and is no doubt derived, as Professor Bevan has suggested,
from the _zaddíqs_, who formed an elect class in the Manichæan
hierarchy.[706]
[Sidenote: The Orthodox Reaction.]
[Sidenote: Abu ’l-Ḥasan al-ash‘arí.]
II. The official recognition of Rationalism as the State religion came
to an end on the accession of Mutawakkil in 847 A.D. The new Caliph, who
owed his throne to the Turkish Prætorians, could not have devised a
surer means of making himself popular than by standing forward as the
avowed champion of the faith of the masses. He persecuted impartially
Jews, Christians, Mu‘tazilites, Shí‘ites, and Ṣúfís--every one, in
short, who diverged from the narrowest Sunnite orthodoxy. The Vizier Ibn
Abí Du’ád, who had shown especial zeal in his conduct of the Mu‘tazilite
Inquisition, was disgraced, and the bulk of his wealth was confiscated.
In Baghdád the followers of Aḥmad b. Ḥanbal went from house to
house terrorising the citizens,[707] and such was their fanatical temper
that when Ṭabarí, the famous divine and historian, died in 923 A.D.,
they would not allow his body to receive the ordinary rites of
burial.[708] Finally, in the year 935 A.D., the Caliph Ráḍí issued an
edict denouncing them in these terms: "Ye assert that your ugly,
ill-favoured faces are in the likeness of the Lord of Creation, and that
your vile exterior resembles His, and ye speak of the hand, the fingers,
the feet, the golden shoes, and the curly hair (of God), and of His
going up to Heaven and of His coming down to Earth.... The Commander of
the Faithful swears a binding oath that unless ye refrain from your
detestable practices and perverse tenets he will lay the sword to your
necks and the fire to your dwellings."[709] Evidently the time was ripe
for a system which should reconcile the claims of tradition and reason,
avoiding the gross anthropomorphism of the extreme Ḥanbalites on the
one side and the pure rationalism of the advanced Mu‘tazilites (who were
still a power to be reckoned with) on the other. It is a frequent
experience that great intellectual or religious movements rising slowly
and invisibly, in response, as it were, to some incommunicable want,
suddenly find a distinct interpreter with whose name they are henceforth
associated for ever. The man, in this case, was Abu ’l-Ḥasan
al-Ash‘arí. He belonged to a noble and traditionally orthodox family of
Yemenite origin. One of his ancestors was Abú Músá al-Ash‘arí, who, as
the reader will recollect, played a somewhat inglorious part in the
arbitration between ‘Alí and Mu‘áwiya after the battle of
Ṣiffín.[710] Born in 873-874 A.D. at Baṣra, a city renowned for
its scientific and intellectual fertility, the young Abu ’l-Ḥasan
deserted the faith of his fathers, attached himself to the freethinking
school, and until his fortieth year was the favourite pupil and intimate
friend of al-Jubbá’í († 915 A.D.), the head of the Mu‘tazilite party at
that time. He is said to have broken with his teacher in consequence of
a dispute as to whether God always does what is best (_aṣlaḥ_) for
His creatures. The story is related as follows by Ibn Khallikán (De
Slane's translation, vol. ii, p. 669 seq.):--
[Sidenote: Story of the three brothers.]
Ash‘arí proposed to Jubbá’í the case of three brothers, one of whom
was a true believer, virtuous and pious; the second an infidel, a
debauchee and a reprobate; and the third an infant: they all died,
and Ash‘arí wished to know what had become of them. To this Jubbá’í
answered: "The virtuous brother holds a high station in Paradise;
the infidel is in the depths of Hell, and the child is among those
who have obtained salvation."[711] "Suppose now," said Ash‘arí,
"that the child should wish to ascend to the place occupied by his
virtuous brother, would he be allowed to do so?" "No," replied
Jubbá’í, "it would be said to him: 'Thy brother arrived at this
place through his numerous works of obedience towards God, and thou
hast no such works to set forward.'" "Suppose then," said Ash‘arí,
"that the child say: 'That is not my fault; you did not let me live
long enough, neither did you give me the means of proving my
obedience.'" "In that case," answered Jubbá’í, "the Almighty would
say: 'I knew that if I had allowed thee to live, thou wouldst have
been disobedient and incurred the severe punishment (of Hell); I
therefore acted for thy advantage.'" "Well," said Ash‘arí, "and
suppose the infidel brother were to say: 'O God of the universe!
since you knew what awaited him, you must have known what awaited
me; why then did you act for his advantage and not for mine?"
Jubbá’í had not a word to offer in reply.
[Sidenote: Ash‘arí's conversion to orthodoxy.]
Soon afterwards Ash‘arí made a public recantation. One Friday, while
sitting (as his biographer relates) in the chair from which he taught in
the great mosque of Baṣra, he cried out at the top of his voice:
"They who know me know who I am: as for those who do not know me I will
tell them. I am ‘Alí b. Ismá‘íl al-Ash‘arí, and I used to hold that the
Koran was created, that the eyes of men shall not see God, and that we
ourselves are the authors of our evil deeds. Now I have returned to the
truth; I renounce these opinions, and I undertake to refute the
Mu‘tazilites and expose their infamy and turpitude."[712]
[Sidenote: Ash‘arí as the founder of Scholastic Theology.]
These anecdotes possess little or no historical value, but illustrate
the fact that Ash‘arí, having learned all that the Mu‘tazilites could
teach him and having thoroughly mastered their dialectic, turned against
them with deadly force the weapons which they had put in his hands. His
doctrine on the subject of free-will may serve to exemplify the method
of _Kalám_ (Disputation) by which he propped up the orthodox creed.[713]
Here, as in other instances, Ash‘arí took the central path--_medio
tutissimus_--between two extremes. It was the view of the early Moslem
Church--a view justified by the Koran and the Apostolic Traditions--that
everything was determined in advance and inscribed, from all eternity,
on the Guarded Tablet (_al-Lawḥ al-Maḥfúẓ_), so that men had no
choice but to commit the actions decreed by destiny. The Mu‘tazilites,
on the contrary, denied that God could be the author of evil and
insisted that men's actions were free. Ash‘arí, on his part, declared
that all actions are created and predestined by God, but that men have a
certain subordinate power which enables them to acquire the actions
previously created, although it produces no effect on the actions
themselves. Human agency, therefore, was confined to this process of
acquisition (_kasb_). With regard to the anthropomorphic passages in the
Koran, Ash‘arí laid down the rule that such expressions as "_The
Merciful has settled himself upon His throne_," "_Both His hands are
spread out_," &c., must be taken in their obvious sense without asking
'How?' (_bilá kayfa_). Spitta saw in the system of Ash‘arí a successful
revolt of the Arabian national spirit against the foreign ideas which
were threatening to overwhelm Islam,[714] a theory which does not agree
with the fact that most of the leading Ash‘arites were Persians.[715]
Von Kremer came nearer the mark when he said "Ash‘arí's victory was
simply a clerical triumph,"[716] but it was also, as Schreiner has
observed, "a victory of reflection over unthinking faith."
The victory, however, was not soon or easily won.[717] Many of the
orthodox disliked the new Scholasticism hardly less than the old
Rationalism. Thus it is not surprising to read in the _Kámil_ of Ibnu
’l-Athír under the year 456 A.H. = 1063-4 A.D., that Alp Arslán's
Vizier, ‘Amídu ’l-Mulk al-Kundurí, having obtained his master's
permission to have curses pronounced against the Ráfiḍites (Shí‘ites)
from the pulpits of Khurásán, included the Ash‘arites in the same
malediction, and that the famous Ash‘arite doctors, Abu ’l-Qásim
al-Qushayrí and the Imámu ’l-Ḥaramayn Abu ’l-Ma‘álí al-Juwayní, left
the country in consequence. The great Niẓámu ’l-Mulk exerted himself
on behalf of the Ash‘arites, and the Niẓámiyya College, which he
founded in Baghdád in the year 1067 A.D., was designed to propagate
their system of theology. But the man who stamped it with the impression
of his own powerful genius, fixed its ultimate form, and established it
as the universal creed of orthodox Islam, was Abú Ḥámid al-Ghazálí
(1058-1111 A.D.). We have already sketched the outward course of his
life, and need only recall that he lectured at Baghdád in the
Niẓámiyya College for four years (1091-1095 A.D.).[718] At the end of
that time he retired from the world as a Ṣúfí, and so brought to a
calm and fortunate close the long spiritual travail which he has himself
described in the _Munqidh mina ’l-Ḑalál_, or 'Deliverer from
Error.'[719] We must now attempt to give the reader some notion of this
work, both on account of its singular psychological interest and because
Ghazálí's search for religious truth exercised, as will shortly appear,
a profound and momentous influence upon the future history of
Muḥammadan thought. It begins with these words:--
[Sidenote: Ghazálí's autobiography.]
"In the name of God, the Merciful, the Compassionate. Praise be to
God by the praise of whom every written or spoken discourse is
opened! And blessings on Muḥammad, the Elect, the Prophet and
Apostle, as well as on his family and his companions who lead us
forth from error! To proceed: You have asked me, O my brother in
religion, to explain to you the hidden meanings and the ultimate
goal of the sciences, and the secret bane of the different
doctrines, and their inmost depths. You wish me to relate all that I
have endured in seeking to recover the truth from amidst the
confusion of sects with diverse ways and paths, and how I have dared
to raise myself from the abyss of blind belief in authority to the
height of discernment. You desire to know what benefits I have
derived in the first place from Scholastic Theology, and what I have
appropriated, in the second place, from the methods of the
Ta‘límites[720] who think that truth can be attained only by
submission to the authority of an Imám; and thirdly, my reasons for
spurning the systems of philosophy; and, lastly, why I have accepted
the tenets of Ṣúfiism: you are anxious, in short, that I should
impart to you the essential truths which I have learned in my
repeated examination of the (religious) opinions of mankind."
In a very interesting passage, which has been translated by Professor
Browne, Ghazálí tells how from his youth upward he was possessed with an
intense thirst for knowledge, which impelled him to study every form of
religion and philosophy, and to question all whom he met concerning the
nature and meaning of their belief.[721] But when he tried to
distinguish the true from the false, he found no sure test. He could not
trust the evidence of his senses. The eye sees a shadow and declares it
to be without movement; or a star, and deems it no larger than a piece
of gold. If the senses thus deceive, may not the mind do likewise?
Perhaps our life is a dream full of phantom thoughts which we mistake
for realities--until the awakening comes, either in moments of ecstasy
or at death. "For two months," says Ghazálí, "I was actually, though not
avowedly, a sceptic." Then God gave him light, so that he regained his
mental balance and was able to think soundly. He resolved that this
faculty must guide him to the truth, since blind faith once lost never
returns. Accordingly, he set himself to examine the foundations of
belief in four classes of men who were devoted to the search for truth,
namely, Scholastic Theologians, Ismá‘ílís (_Bátiniyya_), Philosophers,
and Ṣúfís. For a long while he had to be content with wholly negative
results. Scholasticism was, he admitted, an excellent purge against
heresy, but it could not cure the disease from which he was suffering.
As for the philosophers, all of them--Materialists (_Dahriyyún_),
Naturalists (_Ṭabí‘iyyún_), and Theists (_Iláhiyyún_)--"are branded
with infidelity and impiety." Here, as often in his discussion of the
philosophical schools, Ghazálí's religious instinct breaks out. We
cannot imagine him worshipping at the shrine of pure reason any more
than we can imagine Herbert Spencer at Lourdes. He next turned to the
Ta‘límites (Doctrinists) or Báṭinites (Esoterics), who claimed that
they knew the truth, and that its unique source was the infallible Imám.
But when he came to close quarters with these sectaries, he discovered
that they could teach him nothing, and their mysterious Imám vanished
into space. Ṣúfiism, therefore, was his last hope. He carefully
studied the writings of the mystics, and as he read it became clear to
him that now he was on the right path. He saw that the higher stages of
Ṣúfiism could not be learned by study, but must be realised by actual
experience, that is, by rapture, ecstasy, and moral transformation.
After a painful struggle with himself he resolved to cast aside all his
worldly ambition and to live for God alone. In the month of Dhu
’l-Qa‘da, 488 A.H. (November, 1095 A.D.), he left Baghdád and wandered
forth to Syria, where he found in the Ṣúfí discipline of prayer,
praise, and meditation the peace which his soul desired.
Mr. Duncan B. Macdonald, to whom we owe the best and fullest life of
Ghazálí that has yet been written, sums up his work and influence in
Islam under four heads[722]:--
_First_, he led men back from scholastic labours upon theological dogmas
to living contact with, study and exegesis of, the Word and the
Traditions.
_Second_, in his preaching and moral exhortations he re-introduced the
element of fear.
_Third_, it was by his influence that Ṣúfiism attained a firm and
assured position within the Church of Islam.
_Fourth_, he brought philosophy and philosophical theology within the
range of the ordinary mind.
[Sidenote: Ghazálí's work and influence.]
"Of these four phases of al-Ghazzālī's work," says Macdonald,
"the first and third are undoubtedly the most important. He made his
mark by leading Islam back to its fundamental and historical facts,
and by giving a place in its system to the emotional religious life.
But it will have been noticed that in none of the four phases was he
a pioneer. He was not a scholar who struck out a new path, but a man
of intense personality who entered on a path already trodden and
made it the common highway. We have here his character. Other men
may have been keener logicians, more learned theologians, more
gifted saints; but he, through his personal experiences, had
attained so overpowering a sense of the divine realities that the
force of his character--once combative and restless, now narrowed
and intense--swept all before it, and the Church of Islam entered on
a new era of its existence."
[Sidenote: Ṣúfiism in the ‘Abbásid period.]
III. We have traced the history of Mysticism in Islam from the ascetic
movement of the first century, in which it originated, to a point where
it begins to pass beyond the sphere of Muḥammadan influence and to enter
on a strange track, of which the Prophet assuredly never dreamed,
although the Ṣúfís constantly pretend that they alone are his true
followers. I do not think it can be maintained that Ṣúfiism of the
theosophical and speculative type, which we have now to consider, is
merely a development of the older asceticism and quietism which have
been described in a former chapter. The difference between them is
essential and must be attributed in part, as Von Kremer saw,[723] to the
intrusion of some extraneous, non-Islamic, element. As to the nature of
this new element there are several conflicting theories, which have been
so clearly and fully stated by Professor Browne in his _Literary History
of Persia_ (vol. i, p. 418 sqq.) that I need not dwell upon them here.
Briefly it is claimed--
(_a_) That Ṣúfiism owes its inspiration to Indian philosophy, and
especially to the Vedanta.
(_b_) That the most characteristic ideas in Ṣúfiism are of Persian
origin.
(_c_) That these ideas are derived from Neo-platonism.
Instead of arguing for or against any of the above theories, all of
which, in my opinion, contain a measure of truth, I propose in the
following pages to sketch the historical evolution of the Ṣúfí
doctrine as far as the materials at my disposal will permit. This, it
seems to me, is the only possible method by which we may hope to arrive
at a definite conclusion as to its origin. Since mysticism in all ages
and countries is fundamentally the same, however it may be modified by
its peculiar environment, and by the positive religion to which it
clings for support, we find remote and unrelated systems showing an
extraordinarily close likeness and even coinciding in many features of
verbal expression. Such resemblances can prove little or nothing unless
they are corroborated by evidence based on historical grounds. Many
writers on Ṣúfiism have disregarded this principle; hence the
confusion which long prevailed. The first step in the right direction
was made by Adalbert Merx,[724] who derived valuable results from a
chronological examination of the sayings of the early Ṣúfís. He did
not, however, carry his researches beyond Abú Sulaymán al-Dárání († 830
A.D.), and confined his attention almost entirely to the doctrine,
which, according to my view, should be studied in connection with the
lives, character, and nationality of the men who taught it.[725] No
doubt the origin and growth of mysticism in Islam, as in all other
religions, _ultimately_ depended on general causes and conditions, not
on external circumstances. For example, the political anarchy of the
Umayyad period, the sceptical tendencies of the early ‘Abbásid age, and
particularly the dry formalism of Moslem theology could not fail to
provoke counter-movements towards quietism, spiritual authority, and
emotional faith. But although Ṣúfiism was not called into being by
any impulse from without (this is too obvious to require argument), the
influences of which I am about to speak have largely contributed to make
it what it is, and have coloured it so deeply that no student of the
history of Ṣúfiism can afford to neglect them.
[Sidenote: Ma‘rúf al-Karkhí († 815 A.D.).]
Towards the end of the eighth century of our era the influence of new
ideas is discernible in the sayings of Ma‘rúf al-Karkhí († 815 A.D.), a
contemporary of Fuḍayl b. ‘Iyáḍ and Shaqíq of Balkh. He was born
in the neighbourhood of Wásiṭ, one of the great cities of
Mesopotamia, and the name of his father, Fírúz, or Fírúzán, shows that
he had Persian blood in his veins. Ma‘rút was a client (_mawlá_) of the
Shí‘ite Imám, ‘Alí b. Músá al-Riḍá, in whose presence he made
profession of Islam; for he had been brought up as a Christian (such is
the usual account), or, possibly, as a Ṣábian. He lived during the
reign of Hárún al-Rashíd in the Karkh quarter of Baghdád, where he
gained a high reputation for saintliness, so that his tomb in that city
is still an object of veneration. He is described as a God-intoxicated
man, but in this respect he is not to be compared with many who came
after him. Nevertheless, he deserves to stand at the head of the
mystical as opposed to the ascetic school of Ṣúfís. He defined
Ṣúfiism as "the apprehension of Divine realities and renunciation of
human possessions."[726] Here are a few of his sayings:--
"Love is not to be learned from men; it is one of God's gifts and
comes of His grace.
"The Saints of God are known by three signs: their thought is of
God, their dwelling is with God, and their business is in God.
"If the gnostic (_‘árif_) has no bliss, yet he himself is in every
bliss.
"When you desire anything of God, swear to Him by me."
From these last words, which Ma‘rúf addressed to his pupil Sarí
al-Saqaṭí, it is manifest that he regarded himself as being in the
most intimate communion with God.
[Sidenote: Abú Sulaymán al-Dárání († 830 A.D.).]
Abú Sulaymán († 830 A.D.), the next great name in the Ṣúfí
biographies, was also a native of Wásiṭ, but afterwards emigrated to
Syria and settled at Dárayá (near Damascus), whence he is called
'al-Dárání.' He developed the doctrine of gnosis (_ma‘rifat_). Those who
are familiar with the language of European mystics--_illuminatio_,
_oculus cordis_, &c.--will easily interpret such sayings as these:--
"None refrains from the lusts of this world save him in whose heart
there is a light that keeps him always busied with the next world.
"When the gnostic's spiritual eye is opened, his bodily eye is shut:
they see nothing but Him.
"If Gnosis were to take visible form, all that looked thereon would
die at the sight of its beauty and loveliness and goodness and
grace, and every brightness would become dark beside the splendour
thereof.[727]
"Gnosis is nearer to silence than to speech."
[Sidenote: Dhu ’l-Nún al-Misrí († 860 A.D.).]
We now come to Dhu ’l-Nún al-Misrí († 860 A.D.), whom the Ṣúfís
themselves consider to be the primary author of their doctrine.[728]
That he at all events was among the first of those who helped to give it
permanent shape is a fact which is amply attested by the collection of
his sayings preserved in ‘Aṭṭár's _Memoirs of the Saints_ and in
other works of the same kind.[729] It is clear that the theory of
gnosis, with which he deals at great length, was the central point in
his system; and he seems to have introduced the doctrine that true
knowledge of God is attained only by means of ecstasy (_wajd_). "The man
that knows God best," he said, "is the one most lost in Him." Like
Dionysius, he refused to make any positive statements about the Deity.
"Whatever you imagine, God is the contrary of that." Divine love he
regarded as an ineffable mystery which must not be revealed to the
profane. All this is the very essence of the later Ṣúfiism. It is
therefore desirable to ascertain the real character of Dhu ’l-Nún and
the influences to which he was subjected. The following account gives a
brief summary of what I have been able to discover; fuller details will
be found in the article mentioned above.
His name was Abu ’l-Fayḍ Thawbán b. Ibráhím, Dhu ’l-Nún (He of the
Fish) being a sobriquet referring to one of his miracles, and his father
was a native of Nubia, or of Ikhmím in Upper Egypt. Ibn Khallikán
describes Dhu ’l-Nún as 'the nonpareil of his age' for learning,
devotion, communion with the Divinity (_ḥál_), and acquaintance with
literature (_adab_); adding that he was a philosopher (_ḥakím_) and
spoke Arabic with elegance. The people of Egypt, among whom he lived,
looked upon him as a _zindíq_ (freethinker), and he was brought to
Baghdád to answer this charge, but after his death he was canonised. In
the _Fihrist_ he appears among "the philosophers who discoursed on
alchemy," and Ibnu ’l-Qifṭí brackets him with the famous occultist
Jábir b. Ḥayyán. He used to wander (as we learn from Mas‘údí)[730]
amidst the ruined Egyptian monuments, studying the inscriptions and
endeavouring to decipher the mysterious figures which were thought to
hold the key to the lost sciences of antiquity. He also dabbled in
medicine, which, like Paracelsus, he combined with alchemy and magic.
Let us see what light these facts throw upon the origin of the Ṣúfí
theosophy. Did it come to Egypt from India, Persia, or Greece?
[Sidenote: The origin of theosophical Ṣúfiism.]
Considering the time, place, and circumstances in which it arose, and
having regard to the character of the man who bore a chief part in its
development, we cannot hesitate, I think, to assert that it is largely a
product of Greek speculation. Ma‘rúf al-Karkhí, Abú Sulaymán al-Dárání,
and Dhu ’l-Nún al-Miṣrí all three lived and died in the period (786-861
A.D.) which begins with the accession of Hárún al-Rashíd and is
terminated by the death of Mutawakkil. During these seventy-five years
the stream of Hellenic culture flowed unceasingly into the Moslem world.
Innumerable works of Greek philosophers, physicians, and scientists were
translated and eagerly studied. Thus the Greeks became the teachers of
the Arabs, and the wisdom of ancient Greece formed, as has been shown in
a preceding chapter, the basis of Muḥammadan science and philosophy. The
results are visible in the Mu‘tazilite rationalism as well as in the
system of the _Ikhwánu ’l-Ṣafá_. But it was not through literature alone
that the Moslems were imbued with Hellenism. In ‘Iráq, Syria, and Egypt
they found themselves on its native soil, which yielded, we may be sure,
a plentiful harvest of ideas--Neo-platonic, Gnostical, Christian,
mystical, pantheistic, and what not? In Mesopotamia, the heart of the
‘Abbásid Empire, dwelt a strange people, who were really Syrian
heathens, but who towards the beginning of the ninth century assumed the
name of Ṣábians in order to protect themselves from the persecution with
which they were threatened by the Caliph Ma’mún. At this time, indeed,
many of them accepted Islam or Christianity, but the majority clung to
their old pagan beliefs, while the educated class continued to profess a
religious philosophy which, as it is described by Shahrastání and other
Muḥammadan writers, is simply the Neo-platonism of Proclus and
Iamblichus. To return to Dhu ’l-Nún, it is incredible that a mystic and
natural philosopher living in the first half of the ninth century in
Egypt should have derived his doctrine directly from India. There may be
Indian elements in Neo-platonism and Gnosticism, but this possibility
does not affect my contention that the immediate source of the Ṣúfí
theosophy is to be sought in Greek and Syrian speculation. To define its
origin more narrowly is not, I think, practicable in the present state
of our knowledge. Merx, however, would trace it to Dionysius, the
Pseudo-Areopagite, or rather to his master, a certain "Hierotheus," whom
Frothingham has identified with the Syrian mystic, Stephen bar Sudaili
(_circa_ 500 A.D.). Dionysius was of course a Christian Neo-platonist.
His works certainly laid the foundations of mediæval mysticism in
Europe, and they were also popular in the East at the time when Ṣúfiism
arose.
[Sidenote: Ṣúfiism composed of many different elements.]
When speaking of the various current theories as to the origin of
Ṣúfiism, I said that in my opinion they all contained a measure of
truth. No single cause will account for a phenomenon so widely spread
and so diverse in its manifestations. Ṣúfiism has always been thoroughly
eclectic, absorbing and transmuting whatever 'broken lights' fell across
its path, and consequently it gained adherents amongst men of the most
opposite views--theists and pantheists, Mu‘tazilites and Scholastics,
philosophers and divines. We have seen what it owed to Greece, but the
Perso-Indian elements are not to be ignored. Although the theory "that
it must be regarded as the reaction of the Aryan mind against a Semitic
religion imposed on it by force" is inadmissible--Dhu ’l-Nún, for
example, was a Copt or Nubian--the fact remains that there was at the
time a powerful anti-Semitic reaction, which expressed itself, more or
less consciously, in Ṣúfís of Persian race. Again, the literary
influence of India upon Muḥammadan thought before 1000 A.D. was greatly
inferior to that of Greece, as any one can see by turning over the pages
of the _Fihrist_; but Indian religious ideas must have penetrated into
Khurásán and Eastern Persia at a much earlier period.
These considerations show that the question as to the origin of Ṣúfiism
cannot be answered in a definite and exclusive way. None of the rival
theories is completely true, nor is any of them without a partial
justification. The following words of Dr. Goldziher should be borne in
mind by all who are interested in this subject:--
[Sidenote: Goldziher on the character of Ṣúfiism.]
"Ṣúfiism cannot be looked upon as a regularly organised sect within
Islam. Its dogmas cannot be compiled into a regular system. It
manifests itself in different shapes in different countries. We find
divergent tendencies, according to the spirit of the teaching of
distinguished theosophists who were founders of different schools,
the followers of which may be compared to Christian monastic orders.
The influence of different environments naturally affected the
development of Ṣúfiism. Here we find mysticism, there asceticism the
prevailing thought."[731]
The four principal foreign sources of Ṣúfiism are undoubtedly
Christianity, Neo-platonism, Gnosticism, and Indian asceticism and
religious philosophy. I shall not attempt in this place to estimate
their comparative importance, but it should be clearly understood that
the speculative and theosophical side of Ṣúfiism, which, as we have
seen, was first elaborated in ‘Iráq, Syria, and Egypt, bears
unmistakable signs of Hellenistic influence.
[Sidenote: Báyazíd of Bisṭám.]
The early Ṣúfís are particularly interested in the theory of mystical
union (_faná wa-baqá_) and often use expressions which it is easy to
associate with pantheism, yet none of them can fairly be called a
pantheist in the true sense. The step from theosophy to pantheism was
not, I think, made either by Ḥalláj († 922 A.D.) or by the celebrated
Abú Yazíd, in Persian Báyazíd († 874-75 A.D.), of Bisṭám, a town in the
province of Qúmis situated near the south-eastern corner of the Caspian
Sea. While his father, Surúshán, was a Zoroastrian, his master in
Ṣúfiism seems to have been connected with Sind (Scinde), where Moslem
governors had been installed since 715 A.D. Báyazíd carried the
experimental doctrine of _faná_ (dying to self) to its utmost limit, and
his language is tinged with the peculiar poetic imagery which was
afterwards developed by the great Ṣúfí of Khurásán, Abú Sa‘íd b. Abi
’l-Khayr († 1049 A.D.). I can give only a few specimens of his sayings.
Their genuineness is not above suspicion, but they serve to show that if
the theosophical basis of Ṣúfiism is distinctively Greek, its mystical
extravagances are no less distinctively Oriental.
"Creatures are subject to 'states' (_aḥwál_), but the gnostic has no
'state,' because his vestiges are effaced and his essence is
annihilated by the essence of another, and his traces are lost in
another's traces.
"I went from God to God until they cried from me in me, 'O Thou I!'
"Nothing is better for Man than to be without aught, having no
asceticism, no theory, no practice. When he is without all, he is
with all.
"Verily I am God, there is no God except me, so worship me!
"Glory to me! how great is my majesty!
"I came forth from Báyazíd-ness as a snake from its skin. Then I
looked. I saw that lover, beloved, and love are one, for in the
world of unification all can be one.
"I am the wine-drinker and the wine and the cup-bearer."
Thus, in the course of a century, Ṣúfiism, which at first was little
more than asceticism, became in succession mystical and theosophical,
and even ran the risk of being confused with pantheism. Henceforward the
term _Taṣawwuf_ unites all these varying shades. As a rule, however,
the great Ṣúfís of the third century A.H. (815-912 A.D.) keep their
antinomian enthusiasm under control. Most of them agreed with Junayd of
Baghdád († 909 A.D.), the leading theosophist of his time, in preferring
"the path of sobriety," and in seeking to reconcile the Law (_sharí‘at_)
with the Truth (_ḥaqíqat_). "Our principles," said Sahl b. ‘Abdulláh
al-Tustarí († 896 A.D.), "are six: to hold fast by the Book of God, to
model ourselves upon the Apostle (Muḥammad), to eat only what is
lawful, to refrain from hurting people even though they hurt us, to
avoid forbidden things, and to fulfil obligations without delay." To
these articles the strictest Moslem might cheerfully subscribe.
Ṣúfiism in its ascetic, moral, and devotional aspects was a
spiritualised Islam, though it was a very different thing essentially.
While doing lip-service to the established religion, it modified the
dogmas of Islam in such a way as to deprive them of their original
significance. Thus Allah, the God of mercy and wrath, was in a certain
sense depersonalised and worshipped as the One absolutely Real
(_al-Ḥaqq_). Here the Ṣúfís betray their kinship with the
Mu‘tazilites, but the two sects have little in common except the Greek
philosophy.[732] It must never be forgotten that Ṣúfiism was the
expression of a profound religious feeling--"hatred of the world and
love of the Lord."[733] "_Taṣawwuf_," said Junayd, "is this: that God
should make thee die to thyself and should make thee live in Him."
The further development of Ṣúfiism may be indicated in a few words.
[Sidenote: The development of Ṣúfiism.]
What was at first a form of religion adopted by individuals and
communicated to a small circle of companions gradually became a monastic
system, a school for saints, with rules of discipline and devotion which
the novice (_muríd_) learned from his spiritual director (_pír_ or
_ustádh_), to whose guidance he submitted himself absolutely. Already in
the third century after Muḥammad it is increasingly evident that the
typical Ṣúfí adept of the future will no longer be a solitary ascetic
shunning the sight of men, but a great Shaykh and hierophant, who
appears on ceremonial occasions attended by a numerous train of admiring
disciples. Soon the doctrine began to be collected and embodied in
books. Some of the most notable Arabic works of reference on Ṣúfiism
have been mentioned already. Among the oldest are the _Kitábu ’l-Luma‘_,
by Abú Naṣr al-Sarráj († 988 A.D.) and the _Qútu ’l-Qulúb_ by Abú
Ṭálib al-Makkí († 996 A.D.). The twelfth century saw the rise of the
Dervish Orders. ‘Adí al-Hakkárí († 1163 A.D.) and ‘Abdu ’l-Qádir al-Jílí
(† 1166 A.D.) founded the fraternities which are called ‘Adawís and
Qádirís, after their respective heads. These were followed in rapid
succession by the Rifá‘ís, the Shádhilís, and the Mevlevís, of whom the
last named owe their origin to the Persian poet and mystic, Jalálu
’l-Dín Rúmí († 1273 A.D.). By this time, mainly through the influence of
Ghazálí, Ṣúfiism had won for itself a secure and recognised position
in the Muḥammadan Church. Orthodoxy was forced to accept the popular
Saint-worship and to admit the miracles of the _Awliyá_, although many
Moslem puritans raised their voices against the superstitious veneration
which was paid to the tombs of holy men, and against the prayers,
sacrifices, and oblations offered by the pilgrims who assembled. Ghazálí
also gave the Ṣúfí doctrine a metaphysical basis. For this purpose he
availed himself of the terminology, which Fárábí (also a Ṣúfí) and
Avicenna had already borrowed from the Neo-platonists. From his time
forward we find in Ṣúfí writings constant allusions to the Plotinian
theories of emanation and ecstasy.
[Sidenote: ‘Umar Ibnu ’l-Fáriḍ.]
Mysticism was more congenial to the Persians than to the Arabs, and its
influence on Arabic literature is not to be compared with the
extraordinary spell which it has cast over the Persian mind since the
eleventh century of the Christian era to the present day. With few
exceptions, the great poets of Persia (and, we may add, of Turkey) speak
the allegorical language and use the fantastic imagery of which the
quatrains of the Persian Ṣúfí, Abú Sa‘íd b. Abi ’l-Khayr,[734] afford
almost the first literary example. The Arabs have only one mystical poet
worthy to stand beside the Persian masters. This is Sharafu ’l-Dín ‘Umar
Ibnu ’l-Fáriḍ, who was born in Cairo (1181 A.D.) and died there in
1235. His _Díwán_ was edited by his grandson ‘Alí, and the following
particulars regarding the poet's life are extracted from the
biographical notice prefixed to this edition[735]:--
"The Shaykh ‘Umar Ibnu ’l-Fáriḍ was of middle stature; his face
was fair and comely, with a mingling of visible redness; and when he
was under the influence of music (_samá‘_) and rapture (_wajd_), and
overcome by ecstasy, it grew in beauty and brilliancy, and sweat
dropped from his body until it ran on the ground under his feet. I
never saw (so his son relates) among Arabs or foreigners a figure
equal in beauty to his, and I am the likest of all men to him in
form.... And when he walked in the city, the people used to press
round him asking his blessing and trying to kiss his hand, but he
would not allow anyone to do so, but put his hand in theirs....
‘Umar Ibnu ’l-Fáriḍ said: 'In the beginning of my detachment
(_tajríd_) from the world I used to beg permission of my father and
go up to the Wádi ’l-Mustaḍ‘afín on the second mountain of
al-Muqaṭṭam. Thither I would resort and continue in this
hermit life (_síyáḥa_) night and day; then I would return to my
father, as bound in duty to cherish his affection. My father was at
that time Lieutenant of the High Court (_khalífatu ’l-ḥukmi
’l-‘azíz_) in Qáhira and Miṣr,[736] the two guarded cities, and
was one of the men most eminent for learning and affairs. He was
wont to be glad when I returned, and he frequently let me sit with
him in the chambers of the court and in the colleges of law. Then I
would long for "detachment," and beg leave to return to the life of
a wandering devotee, and thus I was doing repeatedly, until my
father was asked to fill the office of Chief Justice (_Qáḍi
’l-Quḍát_), but refused, and laid down the post which he held,
and retired from society, and gave himself entirely to God in the
preaching-hall (_qá‘atu ’l-khiṭába_) of the Mosque al-Azhar.
After his death I resumed my former detachment, and solitary
devotion, and travel in the way of Truth, but no revelation was
vouchsafed to me. One day I came to Cairo and entered the Sayfiyya
College. At the gate I found an old grocer performing an ablution
which was not prescribed. First he washed his hands, then his feet;
then he wiped his head and washed his face. "O Shaykh," I said to
him, "do you, after all these years, stand beside the gate of the
college among the Moslem divines and perform an irregular ablution?"
He looked at me and said, "O ‘Umar, nothing will be vouchsafed to
thee in Egypt, but only in the Ḥijáz, at Mecca (may God exalt
it!); set out thither, for the time of thy illumination hath come."
Then I knew that the man was one of God's saints and that he was
disguising himself by his manner of livelihood and by pretending to
be ignorant of the irregularity of the ablution. I seated myself
before him and said to him, "O my master, how far am I from Mecca!
and I cannot find convoy or companions save in the months of
Pilgrimage." He looked at me and pointed with his hand and said,
"Here is Mecca in front of thee"; and as I looked with him, I saw
Mecca (may God exalt it!); and bidding him farewell, I set off to
seek it, and it was always in front of me until I entered it. At
that moment illumination came to me and continued without any
interruption.... I abode in a valley which was distant from Mecca
ten days' journey for a hard rider, and every day and night I would
come forth to pray the five prayers in the exalted Sanctuary, and
with me was a wild beast of huge size which accompanied me in my
going and returning, and knelt to me as a camel kneels, and said,
"Mount, O my master," but I never did so.'"
When fifteen years had elapsed, ‘Umar Ibnu ’l-Fáriḍ returned to
Cairo. The people venerated him as a saint, and the reigning monarch,
Malik al-Kámil, wished to visit him in person, but ‘Umar declined to see
him, and rejected his bounty. "At most times," says the poet's son, "the
Shaykh was in a state of bewilderment, and his eyes stared fixedly. He
neither heard nor saw any one speaking to him. Now he would stand, now
sit, now repose on his side, now lie on his back wrapped up like a dead
man; and thus would he pass ten consecutive days, more or less, neither
eating nor drinking nor speaking nor stirring." In 1231 A.D. he made the
pilgrimage to Mecca, on which occasion he met his famous contemporary,
Shihábu’ l-Dín Abú Ḥafṣ ‘Umar al-Suhrawardí. He died four years
later, and was buried in the Qaráfa cemetery at the foot of Mount
Muqaṭṭam.
[Sidenote: The poetry of Ibnu ’l-Fáriḍ.]
His _Díwán_ of mystical odes, which were first collected and published
by his grandson, is small in extent compared with similar works in the
Persian language, but of no unusual brevity when regarded as the
production of an Arabian poet.[737] Concerning its general character
something has been said above (p. 325). The commentator, Ḥasan
al-Búríní († 1615 A.D.), praises the easy flow (_insijàm_) of the
versification, and declares that Ibnu ’l-Fáriḍ "is accustomed to play
with ideas in ever-changing forms, and to clothe them with splendid
garments."[738] His style, full of verbal subtleties, betrays the
influence of Mutanabbí.[739] The longest piece in the _Díwán_ is a Hymn
of Divine Love, entitled _Naẓmu ’l-Sulúk_ ('Poem on the Mystic's
Progress'), and often called _al-Tá’iyyatu ’l-Kubrá_ ('The Greater Ode
rhyming in _t_'), which has been edited with a German verse-translation
by Hammer-Purgstall (Vienna, 1854). On account of this poem the author
was accused of favouring the doctrine of _ḥulúl_, _i.e._, the
incarnation of God in human beings. Another celebrated ode is the
_Khamriyya_, or Hymn of Wine.[740]
The following versions will perhaps convey to English readers some faint
impression of the fervid rapture and almost ethereal exaltation which
give the poetry of Ibnu ’l-Fáriḍ a unique place in Arabic
literature:--
"Let passion's swelling tide my senses drown!
Pity love's fuel, this long-smouldering heart,
Nor answer with a frown,
When I would fain behold Thee as Thou art,
'_Thou shall not see Me._'[741] O my soul, keep fast
The pledge thou gav'st: endure unfaltering to the last!
For Love is life, and death in love the Heaven
Where all sins are forgiven.
To those before and after and of this day,
That witnesseth my tribulation, say,
'By me be taught, me follow, me obey,
And tell my passion's story thro' wide East and West.'
With my Beloved I alone have been
When secrets tenderer than evening airs
Passed, and the Vision blest
Was granted to my prayers,
That crowned me, else obscure, with endless fame,
The while amazed between
His beauty and His majesty
I stood in silent ecstasy,
Revealing that which o'er my spirit went and came.
Lo! in His face commingled
Is every charm and grace;
The whole of Beauty singled
Into a perfect face
Beholding Him would cry,
'There is no God but He, and He is the most High!'"[742]
Here are the opening verses of the _Tá’iyyatu ’l-Ṣughrá_, or 'The
Lesser Ode rhyming in _t_,' which is so called in order to distinguish
it from the _Tá’iyyatu ’l-Kubrá_:--
"Yea, in me the Zephyr kindled longing, O my loves, for you;
Sweetly breathed the balmy Zephyr, scattering odours when it blew;
Whispering to my heart at morning secret tales of those who dwell
(How my fainting heart it gladdened!) nigh the water and the well;
Murmuring in the grassy meadows, garmented with gentleness,
Languid love-sick airs diffusing, healing me of my distress.
When the green slopes wave before thee, Zephyr, in my loved Ḥijáz,
Thou, not wine that mads the others, art my rapture's only cause.
Thou the covenant eternal[743] callest back into my mind,
For but newly thou hast parted from my dear ones, happy Wind!
Driver of the dun-red camels that amidst acacias bide,
Soft and sofa-like thy saddle from the long and weary ride!
Blessings on thee, if descrying far-off Túḍih at noonday,
Thou wilt cross the desert hollows where the fawns of Wajra play,
And if from ‘Urayḍ's sand-hillocks bordering on stony ground
Thou wilt turn aside to Ḥuzwá, driver for Suwayqa bound,
And Ṭuwayli‘'s willows leaving, if to Sal‘ thou thence wilt ride--
Ask, I pray thee, of a people dwelling on the mountain-side!
Halt among the clan I cherish (so may health attend thee still!)
And deliver there my greeting to the Arabs of the hill.
For the tents are basking yonder, and in one of them is She
That bestows the meeting sparely, but the parting lavishly.
All around her as a rampart edge of sword and point of lance,
Yet my glances stray towards her when on me she deigns to glance.
Girt about with double raiment--soul and heart of mine, no less--
She is guarded from beholders, veiled by her unveiledness.
Death to me, in giving loose to my desire, she destineth;
Ah, how goodly seems the bargain, and how cheap is Love
for Death![744]
Ibnu ’l-Fáriḍ came of pure Arab stock, and his poetry is thoroughly
Arabian both in form and spirit. This is not the place to speak of the
great Persian Ṣúfís, but Ḥusayn b. Manṣúr al-Ḥalláj, who was
executed in the Caliphate of Muqtadir (922 A.D.), could not have been
omitted here but for the fact that Professor Browne has already given an
admirable account of him, to which I am unable to add anything of
importance.[745] The Arabs, however, have contributed to the history of
Ṣúfiism another memorable name--Muḥyi’l-Dín Ibnu ’l-‘Arabí, whose
life falls within the final century of the ‘Abbásid period, and will
therefore fitly conclude the present chapter.[746]
[Sidenote: Ibnu ’l-‘Arabí.]
Muḥyi ’l-Dín Muḥammad b. ‘Alí Ibnu ’l-‘Arabí (or Ibn ‘Arabí)[747]
was born at Mursiya (Murcia) in Spain on the 17th of Ramaḍán, 560
A.H. = July 29, 1165 A.D. From 1173 to 1202 he resided in Seville. He
then set out for the East, travelling by way of Egypt to the Ḥijáz,
where he stayed a long time, and after visiting Baghdád, Mosul, and Asia
Minor, finally settled at Damascus, in which city he died (638 A.H. =
1240 A.D.). His tomb below Mount Qásiyún was thought to be "a piece of
the gardens of Paradise," and was called the Philosophers' Stone.[748]
It is now enclosed in a mosque which bears the name of Muḥyi ’l-Dín,
and a cupola rises over it.[749] We know little concerning the events of
his life, which seems to have been passed chiefly in travel and
conversation with Ṣúfís and in the composition of his voluminous
writings, about three hundred in number according to his own
computation. Two of these works are especially celebrated, and have
caused Ibnu ’l-‘Arabí to be regarded as the greatest of all
Muḥammadan mystics--the _Futúḥát al-Makkiyya_, or 'Meccan
Revelations,' and the _Fuṣúṣú ’l-Ḥikam_, or 'Bezels of
Philosophy.' The _Futúḥát_ is a huge treatise in five hundred and
sixty chapters, containing a complete system of mystical science. The
author relates that he saw Muḥammad in the World of Real Ideas,
seated on a throne amidst angels, prophets, and saints, and received his
command to discourse on the Divine mysteries. At another time, while
circumambulating the Ka‘ba, he met a celestial spirit wearing the form
of a youth engaged in the same holy rite, who showed him the living
esoteric Temple which is concealed under the lifeless exterior, even as
the eternal substance of the Divine Ideas is hidden by the veils of
popular religion--veils through which the lofty mind must penetrate,
until, having reached the splendour within, it partakes of the Divine
nature and beholds what no mortal eye can endure to look upon. Ibnu
’l-‘Arabí immediately fell into a swoon. When he came to himself he was
instructed to contemplate the visionary form and to write down the
mysteries which it would reveal to his gaze. Then the youth entered the
Ka‘ba with Ibnu ’l-‘Arabí, and resuming his spiritual aspect, appeared
to him on a three-legged steed, breathed into his breast the knowledge
of all things, and once more bade him describe the heavenly form in
which all mysteries are enshrined.[750] Such is the reputed origin of
the 'Meccan Revelations,' of which the greater portion was written in
the town where inspiration descended on Muḥammad six hundred years
before. The author believed, or pretended to believe, that every word of
them was dictated to him by supernatural means. The _Fúṣúṣ_, a
short work in twenty-seven chapters, each of which is named after one of
the prophets, is no less highly esteemed, and has been the subject of
numerous commentaries in Arabic, Persian, and Turkish.
[Sidenote: The doctrine of the Perfect Man.]
Curiously enough, Ibnu ’l-‘Arabí combined the most extravagant mysticism
with the straitest orthodoxy. "He was a Ẓáhirite (literalist) in
religion and a Báṭinite (spiritualist) in his speculative
beliefs."[751] He rejected all authority (_taqlíd_). "I am not one of
those who say, 'Ibn Ḥazm said so-and-so, Aḥmad[752] said
so-and-so, al-Nu‘mán[753] said so-and-so,'" he declares in one of his
poems. But although he insisted on punctilious adherence to the letter
of the sacred law, we may suspect that his refusal to follow any human
authority, analogy, or opinion was simply the overweening presumption of
the seer who regards himself as divinely illuminated and infallible.
Many theologians were scandalised by the apparently blasphemous
expressions which occur in his writings, and taxed him with holding
heretical doctrines, _e.g._, the incarnation of God in man (_ḥulúl_)
and the identification of man with God (_ittiḥád_). Centuries passed,
but controversy continued to rage over him. He found numerous and
enthusiastic partisans, who urged that the utterances of the saints must
not be interpreted literally nor criticised at all. It was recognised,
however, that such high mysteries were unsuitable for the weaker
brethren, so that many even of those who firmly believed in his sanctity
discouraged the reading of his books. They were read nevertheless,
publicly and privately, from one end of the Muḥammadan world to the
other; people copied them for the sake of obtaining the author's
blessing, and the manuscripts were eagerly bought. Among the
distinguished men who wrote in his defence we can mention here only
Majdu ’l-Dín al-Fírúzábádí († 1414 A.D.), the author of the great Arabic
lexicon entitled _al-Qámús_; Jalálu ’l-Dín al-Suyúṭí († 1445 A.D.);
and ‘Abdu ’l-Wahháb al-Sha‘rání († 1565 A.D.). The fundamental principle
of his system is the Unity of Being (_waḥdatu ’l-wujúd_). There is no
real difference between the Essence and its attributes or, in other
words, between God and the universe. All created things subsist
eternally as ideas (_a‘yán thábita_) in the knowledge of God, and since
being is identical with knowledge, their "creation" only means His
knowing them, or Himself, under the aspect of actuality; the universe,
in fact, is the concrete sum of the relations of the Essence as subject
to itself as object. This pantheistic monism puts on an Islamic mask in
the doctrine of "the Perfect Man" (_al-Insán al-Kámil_), a phrase which
Ibnu ’l-‘Arabí was the first to associate with it. The Divine
consciousness, evolving through a series of five planes
(_ḥaḍarát_), attains to complete expression in Man, the
microcosmic being who unites the creative and creaturely attributes of
the Essence and is at once the image of God and the archetype of the
universe. Only through him does God know Himself and make Himself known;
he is the eye of the world whereby God sees His own works. The daring
paradoxes of Ibnu ’l-‘Arabí's dialectic are illustrated by such verses
as these:--
He praises me (by manifesting my perfections and creating me in
His form),
And I praise Him (by manifesting His perfections and obeying Him).
How can He be independent when I help and aid Him? (because the Divine
attributes derive the possibility of manifestation from their human
correlates).
For that cause God brought me into existence,
And I know Him and bring Him into existence (in my knowledge
and contemplation of Him).[754]
Thus it is the primary function of Man to reveal and realise his Divine
nature; and the Perfect Men, regarded individually, are the prophets and
saints. Here the doctrine--an amalgam of Manichæan, Gnostic,
Neo-platonic and Christian speculations--attaches itself to Muḥammad,
"the Seal of the prophets." According to Moslem belief, the pre-existent
Spirit or Light of Muḥammad (_Núr Muḥammadí_) became incarnate in
Adam and in the whole series of prophets, of whom Muḥammad is the
last. Muḥammad, then, is the Logos,[755] the Mediator, the Vicegerent
of God (_Khalífat Allah_), the God-Man who has descended to this earthly
sphere to make manifest the glory of Him who brought the universe into
existence.
But, of course, Ibnu ’l-‘Arabí's philosophy carries him far beyond the
realm of positive religion. If God is the "self" of all things sensible
and intelligible, it follows that He reveals Himself in every form of
belief in a degree proportionate to the pre-determined capacity of the
believer; the mystic alone sees that He is One in all forms, for the
mystic's heart is all-receptive: it assumes whatever form God reveals
Himself in, as wax takes the impression of the seal.
"My heart is capable of every form,
A cloister for the monk, a fane for idols,
A pasture for gazelles, the pilgrim's Ka‘ba,
The Tables of the Torah, the Koran.
Love is the faith I hold: wherever turn
His camels, still the one true faith is mine."[756]
The vast bulk of Ibnu ’l-‘Arabí's writings, his technical and scholastic
terminology, his recondite modes of thought, and the lack of method in
his exposition have, until recently, deterred European Orientalists from
bestowing on him the attention which he deserves.[757] In the history of
Ṣúfiism his name marks an epoch: it is owing to him that what began
as a profoundly religious personal movement in Islam ends as an eclectic
and definitely pantheistic system of philosophy. The title of "The Grand
Master" (_al-Shaykh al-Akbar_), by which he is commonly designated,
bears witness to his supremacy in the world of Moslem mysticism from the
Mongol Invasion to the present day. In Persia and Turkey his influence
has been enormous, and through his pupil, Ṣadru ’l-Dín of Qóniya, he
is linked with the greatest of all Ṣúfí poets, Jalálu ’l-Dín Rúmí,
the author of the _Mathnawí_, who died some thirty years after him. Nor
did all those who borrowed his ideas call themselves Moslems. He
inspired, amongst other mediæval Christian writers, "the Illuminated
Doctor" Raymond Lull, and probably Dante.[758]
CHAPTER IX
THE ARABS IN EUROPE
It will be remembered that before the end of the first century of the
Hijra, in the reign of the Umayyad Caliph, Walíd b. ‘Abd al-Malik
(705-715 A.D.), the Moslems under Ṭáriq and Músá b. Nuṣayr,
crossed the Mediterranean, and having defeated Roderic the Goth in a
great battle near Cadiz, rapidly brought the whole of Spain into
subjection. The fate of the new province was long doubtful. The Berber
insurrection which raged in Africa (734-742 A.D.) spread to Spain and
threatened to exterminate the handful of Arab colonists; and no sooner
was this danger past than the victors began to rekindle the old feuds
and jealousies which they had inherited from their ancestors of Qays and
Kalb. Once more the rival factions of Syria and Yemen flew to arms, and
the land was plunged in anarchy.
[Sidenote: ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán, the Umayyad.]
Meanwhile ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán b. Mu‘áwiya, a grandson of the Caliph
Hishám, had escaped from the general massacre with which the ‘Abbásids
celebrated their triumph over the House of Umayya, and after five years
of wandering adventure, accompanied only by his faithful freedman, Badr,
had reached the neighbourhood of Ceuta, where he found a precarious
shelter with the Berber tribes. Young, ambitious, and full of confidence
in his destiny, ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán conceived the bold plan of throwing
himself into Spain and of winning a kingdom with the help of the Arabs,
amongst whom, as he well knew, there were many clients of his own
family. Accordingly in 755 A.D. he sent Badr across the sea on a secret
mission. The envoy accomplished even more than was expected of him. To
gain over the clients was easy, for ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán was their natural
chief, and in the event of his success they would share with him the
prize. Their number, however, was comparatively small. The pretender
could not hope to achieve anything unless he were supported by one of
the great parties, Syrians or Yemenites. At this time the former, led by
the feeble governor, Yúsuf b. ‘Abd al-Raḥmán al-Fihrí, and his cruel
but capable lieutenant, Ṣumayl b. Ḥátim, held the reins of power
and were pursuing their adversaries with ruthless ferocity. The
Yemenites, therefore, hastened to range themselves on the side of ‘Abdu
’l-Raḥmán, not that they loved his cause, but inspired solely by the
prospect of taking a bloody vengeance upon the Syrians. These Spanish
Moslems belonged to the true Bedouin stock!
A few months later ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán landed in Spain, occupied Seville,
and, routing Yúsuf and Ṣumayl under the walls of Cordova, made
himself master of the capital. On the same evening he presided, as
Governor of Spain, over the citizens assembled for public worship in the
great Mosque (May, 756 A.D.).
During his long reign of thirty-two years ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán was busily
employed in defending and consolidating the empire which more than once
seemed to be on the point of slipping from his grasp. The task before
him was arduous in the extreme. On the one hand, he was confronted by
the unruly Arab aristocracy, jealous of their independence and regarding
the monarch as their common foe. Between him and them no permanent
compromise was possible, and since they could only be kept in check by
an armed force stronger than themselves, he was compelled to rely on
mercenaries, for the most part Berbers imported from Africa. Thus, by a
fatal necessity the Moslem Empire in the West gradually assumed that
despotic and Prætorian character which we have learned to associate with
the ‘Abbásid Government in the period of its decline, and the results
were in the end hardly less disastrous. The monarchy had also to reckon
with the fanaticism of its Christian subjects and with a formidable
Spanish national party eager to throw off the foreign yoke.
Extraordinary energy and tact were needed to maintain authority over
these explosive elements, and if the dynasty founded by ‘Abdu
’l-Raḥmán not only survived for two centuries and a half but gave to
Spain a more splendid era of prosperity and culture than she had ever
enjoyed, the credit is mainly due to the bold adventurer from whom even
his enemies could not withhold a tribute of admiration. One day, it is
said, the Caliph Manṣúr asked his courtiers, "Who is the Falcon of
Quraysh?" They replied, "O Prince of the Faithful, that title belongs to
you who have vanquished mighty kings and have put an end to civil war."
"No," said the Caliph, "it is not I." "Mu‘áwiya, then, or ‘Abdu
’l-Malik?" "No," said Manṣúr, "the Falcon of Quraysh is ‘Abdu
’l-Raḥmán b. Mu‘áwiya, he who traversed alone the deserts of Asia and
Africa, and without an army to aid him sought his fortune in an unknown
country beyond the sea. With no weapons except judgment and resolution
he subdued his enemies, crushed the rebels, secured his frontiers, and
founded a great empire. Such a feat was never achieved by any one
before."[759]
[Sidenote: Islam in Spain.]
[Sidenote: Yaḥyá b. Yaḥyá.]
[Sidenote: The Revolt of the Suburb.]
Of the Moslems in Spain the Arabs formed only a small minority, and
they, moreover, showed all the indifference towards religion and
contempt for the laws of Islam which might be expected from men imbued
with Bedouin traditions whose forbears had been devotedly attached to
the world-loving Umayyads of Damascus. It was otherwise with the Spanish
converts, the so-called 'Renegades' or _Muwalladún_ (Affiliati) living
as clients under protection of the Arab nobility, and with the Berbers.
These races took their adopted religion very seriously, in accordance
with the fervid and sombre temperament which has always distinguished
them. Hence among the mass of Spanish Moslems a rigorous orthodoxy
prevailed. The Berber, Yaḥyá b. Yaḥyá († 849 A.D.), is a typical
figure. At the age of twenty-eight years he travelled to the East and
studied under Málik. b Anas, who dictated to him his celebrated work
known as the _Muwaṭṭa’_. Yaḥyá was one day at Málik's lecture
with a number of fellow-students, when some one said, "Here comes the
elephant!" All of them ran out to see the animal, but Yaḥyá did not
stir. "Why," said Málik, "do you not go out and look at it? Such animals
are not to be seen in Spain." To this Yaḥyá replied, "I left my
country for the purpose of seeing you and obtaining knowledge under your
guidance. I did not come here to see the elephant." Málik was so pleased
with this answer that he called him the most intelligent (_‘áqil_) of
the people of Spain. On his return to Spain Yaḥyá exerted himself to
spread the doctrines of his master, and though he obstinately refused,
on religious grounds, to accept any public office, his influence and
reputation were such that, as Ibn Ḥazm says, no Cadi was ever
appointed till Yaḥyá had given his opinion and designated the person
whom he preferred.[760] Thus the Málikite system, based on close
adherence to tradition, became the law of the land. "The Spaniards," it
is observed by a learned writer of the tenth century, "recognise only
the Koran and the _Muwaṭṭa’_; if they find a follower of Abú
Ḥanífa or Sháfi‘í, they banish him from Spain, and if they meet with
a Mu‘tazilite or a Shí‘ite or any one of that sort, they often put him
to death."[761] Arrogant, intensely bigoted, and ambitious of power, the
Muḥammadan clergy were not disposed to play a subordinate rôle in the
State. In Hishám (788-796 A.D.), the successor of ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán,
they had a prince after their own heart, whose piety and devotion to
their interests left nothing to be desired. Ḥakam (796-822 A.D.) was
less complaisant. He honoured and respected the clergy, but at the same
time he let them see that he would not permit them to interfere in
political affairs. The malcontents, headed by the fiery Yaḥyá b.
Yaḥyá, replied with menaces and insults, and called on the populace
of Cordova--especially the 'Renegades' in the southern quarter
(_rabaḍ_) of the city--to rise against the tyrant and his insolent
soldiery. One day in Ramaḍán, 198 A.H. (May, 814 A.D.), Ḥakam
suddenly found himself cut off from the garrison and besieged in his
palace by an infuriated mob, but he did not lose courage, and, thanks to
his coolness and skilful strategy, he came safely out of the peril in
which he stood. The revolutionary suburb was burned to the ground and
those of its inhabitants who escaped massacre, some 60,000 souls, were
driven into exile. The real culprits went unpunished. Ḥakam could not
afford further to exasperate the divines, who on their part began to
perceive that they might obtain from the prince by favour what they had
failed to wring from him by force. Being mostly Arabs or Berbers, they
had a strong claim to his consideration. Their power was soon restored,
and in the reign of ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán II (822-852 A.D.) Yaḥyá
himself, the ringleader of the mutiny, directed ecclesiastical policy
and dispensed judicial patronage as he pleased.
[Sidenote: ‘Umar b. Ḥafṣún.]
The Revolt of the Suburb was only an episode in the long and sanguinary
struggle between the Spaniards, Moslem or Christian, on the one hand,
and the monarchy of Cordova on the other--a struggle complicated by the
rival Arab tribes, which sometimes patched up their own feuds in order
to defend themselves against the Spanish patriots, but never in any
circumstances gave their support to the detested Umayyad Government. The
hero of this war of independence was ‘Umar b. Ḥafṣún. He belonged
to a noble family of West-Gothic origin which had gone over to Islam and
settled in the mountainous district north-east of Malaga. Hot-blooded,
quarrelsome, and ready to stab on the slightest provocation, the young
man soon fell into trouble. At first he took shelter in the wild
fastnesses of Ronda, where he lived as a brigand until he was captured
by the police. He then crossed the sea to Africa, but in a short time
returned to his old haunts and put himself at the head of a band of
robbers. Here he held out for two years, when, having been obliged to
surrender, he accepted the proposal of the Sultan of Cordova that he and
his companions should enlist in the Imperial army. But ‘Umar was
destined for greater glory than the Sultan could confer upon him. A few
contemptuous words from a superior officer touched his pride to the
quick, so one fine day he galloped off with all his men in the direction
of Ronda. They found an almost impregnable retreat in the castle of
Bobastro, which had once been a Roman fortress. From this moment, says
Dozy, ‘Umar b. Ḥafṣún was no longer a brigand-chief, but leader of
the whole Spanish race in the south. The lawless and petulant free-lance
was transformed into a high-minded patriot, celebrated for the stern
justice with which he punished the least act of violence, adored by his
soldiers, and regarded by his countrymen as the champion of the national
cause. During the rest of his life (884-917 A.D.) he conducted the
guerilla with untiring energy and made himself a terror to the Arabs,
but fortune deserted him at the last, and he died--_felix opportunitate
mortis_--only a few years before complete ruin overtook his party. The
Moslem Spaniards, whose enthusiasm had been sensibly weakened by their
leader's conversion to Christianity, were the more anxious to make their
peace with the Government, since they saw plainly the hopelessness of
continuing the struggle.
In 912 A.D. ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán III, the Defender of the Faith
(_al-Náṣir li-díní ’lláh_), succeeded his grandfather, the Amír
‘Abdulláh, on the throne of Cordova. The character, genius, and
enterprise of this great monarch are strikingly depicted in the
following passage from the pen of an eloquent historian whose work,
although it was published some fifty years ago, will always be
authoritative[762]:--
[Sidenote: ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán III (912-961 A.D).]
"Amongst the Umayyad sovereigns who have ruled Spain the first place
belongs incontestably to ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán III. What he
accomplished was almost miraculous. He had found the empire
abandoned to anarchy and civil war, rent by factions, parcelled
amongst a multitude of heterogeneous princes, exposed to incessant
attacks from the Christians of the north, and on the eve of being
swallowed up either by the Léonnese or the Africans. In spite of
innumerable obstacles he had saved Spain both from herself and from
the foreign domination. He had endowed her with new life and made
her greater and stronger than she had ever been. He had given her
order and prosperity at home, consideration and respect abroad. The
public treasury, which he had found in a deplorable condition, was
now overflowing. Of the Imperial revenues, which amounted annually
to 6,245,000 pieces of gold, a third sufficed for ordinary expenses;
a third was held in reserve, and ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán devoted the
remainder to his buildings. It was calculated that in the year 951
he had in his coffers the enormous sum of 20,000,000 pieces of gold,
so that a traveller not without judgment in matters of finance
assures us that ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán and the Ḥamdánid (Náṣiru
’l-Dawla), who was then reigning over Mesopotamia, were the
wealthiest princes of that epoch. The state of the country was in
keeping with the prosperous condition of the treasury. Agriculture,
industry, commerce, the arts and the sciences, all flourished....
Cordova, with its half-million inhabitants, its three thousand
mosques, its superb palaces, its hundred and thirteen thousand
houses, its three hundred bagnios, and its twenty-eight suburbs, was
inferior in extent and splendour only to Baghdád, with which city
the Cordovans loved to compare it.... The power of ‘Abdu
’l-Raḥmán was formidable. A magnificent fleet enabled him to
dispute with the Fáṭimids the empire of the Mediterranean, and
secured him in the possession of Ceuta, the key of Mauritania. A
numerous and well-disciplined army, perhaps the finest in the world,
gave him superiority over the Christians of the north. The proudest
sovereigns solicited his alliance. The emperor of Constantinople,
the kings of Germany, Italy, and France sent ambassadors to him.
"Assuredly, these were brilliant results; but what excites our
astonishment and admiration when we study this glorious reign is not
so much the work as the workman: it is the might of that
comprehensive intelligence which nothing escaped, and which showed
itself no less admirable in the minutest details than in the
loftiest conceptions. This subtle and sagacious man, who
centralises, who founds the unity of the nation and of the monarchy,
who by means of his alliances establishes a sort of political
equilibrium, who in his large tolerance calls the professors of
another religion into his councils, is a modern king rather than a
mediæval Caliph."[763]
[Sidenote: Regency of Manṣúr Ibn Abí ‘Ámir (976-1002 A.D.).]
In short, ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán III made the Spanish Moslems one people,
and formed out of Arabs and Spaniards a united Andalusian nation, which,
as we shall presently see, advanced with incredible swiftness to a
height of culture that was the envy of Europe and was not exceeded by
any contemporary State in the Muḥammadan East. With his death,
however, the decline of the Umayyad dynasty began. His son, Ḥakam II
(† 976 A.D.), left as heir-apparent a boy eleven years old, Hishám II,
who received the title of Caliph while the government was carried on by
his mother Aurora and the ambitious minister Muḥammad b. Abí ‘Ámir.
The latter was virtually monarch of Spain, and whatever may be thought
of the means by which he rose to eminence, or of his treatment of the
unfortunate Caliph whose mental faculties he deliberately stunted and
whom he condemned to a life of monkish seclusion, it is impossible to
deny that he ruled well and nobly. He was a great statesman and a great
soldier. No one could accuse him of making an idle boast when he named
himself 'Al-Manṣúr' ('The Victorious'). Twice every year he was
accustomed to lead his army against the Christians, and such was the
panic which he inspired that in the course of more than fifty campaigns
he scarcely ever lost a battle. He died in 1002 A.D. A Christian monk,
recording the event in his chronicle, adds, "he was buried in Hell," but
Moslem hands engraved the following lines upon the tomb of their
champion:--
"His story in his relics you may trace,
As tho' he stood before you face to face.
Never will Time bring forth his peer again,
Nor one to guard, like him, the gaps of Spain."[764]
His demise left the Prætorians masters of the situation. Berbers and
Slaves[765] divided the kingdom between them, and amidst revolution and
civil war the Umayyad dynasty passed away (1031 A.D.).
[Sidenote: The Party Kings (_Mulúku ’l-Ṭawá’if_).]
It has been said with truth that the history of Spain in the eleventh
century bears a close resemblance to that of Italy in the fifteenth. The
splendid empire of ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán III was broken up, and from its
ruins there emerged a fortuitous conglomeration of petty states governed
by successful condottieri. Of these Party Kings (_Mulúku
’l-Ṭawá’if_), as they are called by Muḥammadan writers, the most
powerful were the ‘Abbádids of Seville. Although it was an age of
political decay, the material prosperity of Spain had as yet suffered
little diminution, whilst in point of culture the society of this time
reached a level hitherto unequalled. Here, then, we may pause for a
moment to review the progress of literature and science during the most
fruitful period of the Moslem occupation of European soil.
[Sidenote: Influence of Arabic culture on the Spaniards.]
Whilst in Asia, as we have seen, the Arab conquerors yielded to the
spell of an ancient culture infinitely superior to their own, they no
sooner crossed the Straits of Gibraltar than the rôles were reversed. As
the invaders extended their conquests to every part of the peninsula,
thousands of Christians fell into their hands, who generally continued
to live under Moslem protection. They were well treated by the
Government, enjoyed religious liberty, and often rose to high offices in
the army or at court. Many of them became rapidly imbued with Moslem
civilisation, so that as early as the middle of the ninth century we
find Alvaro, Bishop of Cordova, complaining that his co-religionists
read the poems and romances of the Arabs, and studied the writings of
Muḥammadan theologians and philosophers, not in order to refute them
but to learn how to express themselves in Arabic with correctness and
elegance. "Where," he asks, "can any one meet nowadays with a layman who
reads the Latin commentaries on the Holy Scriptures? Who studies the
Gospels, the Prophets, the Apostles? Alas, all young Christians of
conspicuous talents are acquainted only with the language and writings
of the Arabs; they read and study Arabic books with the utmost zeal,
spend immense sums of money in collecting them for their libraries, and
proclaim everywhere that this literature is admirable. On the other
hand, if you talk with them of Christian books, they reply
contemptuously that these books are not worth their notice. Alas, the
Christians have forgotten their own language, and amongst thousands of
us scarce one is to be found who can write a tolerable Latin letter to a
friend; whereas very many are capable of expressing themselves
exquisitely in Arabic and of composing poems in that tongue with even
greater skill than the Arabs themselves."[766]
However the good bishop may have exaggerated, it is evident that
Muḥammadan culture had a strong attraction for the Spanish
Christians, and equally, let us add, for the Jews, who made numerous
contributions to poetry, philosophy, and science in their native speech
as well as in the kindred Arabic idiom. The 'Renegades,' or Spanish
converts to Islam, became completely Arabicised in the course of a few
generations; and from this class sprang some of the chief ornaments of
Spanish-Arabian literature.
[Sidenote: The poetry of the Spanish Arabs.]
Considered as a whole, the poetry of the Moslems in Europe shows the
same characteristics which have already been noted in the work of their
Eastern contemporaries. The paralysing conventions from which the
laureates of Baghdád and Aleppo could not emancipate themselves remained
in full force at Cordova and Seville. Yet, just as Arabic poetry in the
East was modified by the influences of Persian culture, in Spain also
the gradual amalgamation of Aryans with Semites introduced new elements
which have left their mark on the literature of both races. Perhaps the
most interesting features of Spanish-Arabian poetry are the tenderly
romantic feeling which not infrequently appears in the love-songs, a
feeling that sometimes anticipates the attitude of mediæval chivalry;
and in the second place an almost modern sensibility to the beauties of
nature. On account of these characteristics the poems in question appeal
to many European readers who do not easily enter into the spirit of the
_Mu‘allaqát_ or the odes of Mutanabbí, and if space allowed it would be
a pleasant task to translate some of the charming lyric and descriptive
pieces which have been collected by anthologists. The omission, however,
is less grave inasmuch as Von Schack has given us a series of excellent
versions in his _Poesie und Kunst der Araber in Spanien und Sicilien_
(2nd ed., Stuttgart, 1877).
[Sidenote: Folk-songs.]
"One of its marvels," says Qazwíní, referring to the town of Shilb
(Silves) in Portugal, "is the fact, which innumerable persons have
mentioned, that the people living there, with few exceptions, are makers
of verse and devoted to belles-lettres; and if you passed by a labourer
standing behind his plough and asked him to recite some verses, he would
at once improvise on any subject that you might demand."[767] Of such
folk-songs the _zajal_ and _muwashshaḥ_ were favourite types.[768]
Both forms were invented in Spain, and their structure is very similar,
consisting of several stanzas in which the rhymes are so arranged that
the master-rhyme ending each stanza and running through the whole poem
like a refrain is continually interrupted by a various succession of
subordinate rhymes, as is shown in the following scheme:--
_aa_
_bbba_
_ccca_
_ddda._
Many of these songs and ballads were composed in the vulgar dialect and
without regard to the rules of classical prosody. The troubadour Ibn
Quzmán († 1160 A.D.) first raised the _zajal_ to literary rank. Here is
an example of the _muwashshaḥ_:--
"Come, hand the precious cup to me,
And brim it high with a golden sea!
Let the old wine circle from guest to guest,
While the bubbles gleam like pearls on its breast,
So that night is of darkness dispossessed.
How it foams and twinkles in fiery glee!
'Tis drawn from the Pleiads' cluster, perdie.
Pass it, to music's melting sound,
Here on this flowery carpet round,
Where gentle dews refresh the ground
And bathe my limbs deliciously
In their cool and balmy fragrancy.
Alone with me in the garden green
A singing-girl enchants the scene:
Her smile diffuses a radiant sheen.
I cast off shame, for no spy can see,
And 'Hola,' I cry, 'let us merry be!'"[769]
[Sidenote: Verses by ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán I.]
True to the traditions of their family, the Spanish Umayyads loved
poetry, music, and polite literature a great deal better than the Koran.
Even the Falcon of Quraysh, ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán I, if the famous verses
on the Palm-tree are really by him, concealed something of the softer
graces under his grim exterior. It is said that in his gardens at
Cordova there was a solitary date-palm, which had been transplanted from
Syria, and that one day ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán, as he gazed upon it,
remembered his native land and felt the bitterness of exile and
exclaimed:--
"O Palm, thou art a stranger in the West,
Far from thy Orient home, like me unblest.
Weep! But thou canst not. Dumb, dejected tree,
Thou art not made to sympathise with me.
Ah, thou wouldst weep, if thou hadst tears to pour,
For thy companions on Euphrates' shore;
But yonder tall groves thou rememberest not,
As I, in hating foes, have my old friends forgot."[770]
[Sidenote: Ziryáb the musician.]
At the court of ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán II (822-852 A.D.) a Persian musician
was prime favourite. This was Ziryáb, a client of the Caliph Mahdí and a
pupil of the celebrated singer, Isḥáq al-Mawṣilí.[771] Isḥáq,
seeing in the young man a dangerous rival to himself, persuaded him to
quit Baghdád and seek his fortune in Spain. ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán received
him with open arms, gave him a magnificent house and princely salary,
and bestowed upon him every mark of honour imaginable. The versatile and
accomplished artist wielded a vast influence. He set the fashion in all
things appertaining to taste and manners; he fixed the toilette,
sanctioned the cuisine, and prescribed what dress should be worn in the
different seasons of the year. The kings of Spain took him as a model,
and his authority was constantly invoked and universally recognised in
that country down to the last days of Moslem rule.[772] Ziryáb was only
one of many talented and learned men who came to Spain from the East,
while the list of Spanish savants who journeyed "in quest of knowledge"
(_fí ṭalabi ’l-‘ilm_) to Africa and Egypt, to the Holy Cities of
Arabia, to the great capitals of Syria and ‘Iráq, to Khurásán,
Transoxania, and in some cases even to China, includes, as may be seen
from the perusal of Maqqarí's fifth chapter, nearly all the eminent
scholars and men of letters whom Moslem Spain has produced. Thus a
lively exchange of ideas was continually in movement, and so little
provincialism existed that famous Andalusian poets, like Ibn Hání and
Ibn Zaydún, are described by admiring Eastern critics as the Buḥturís
and Mutanabbís of the West.
[Sidenote: The Library of Ḥakam II.]
The tenth century of the Christian era is a fortunate and illustrious
period in Spanish history. Under ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán III and his
successor, Ḥakam II, the nation, hitherto torn asunder by civil war,
bent its united energies to the advancement of material and intellectual
culture. Ḥakam was an enthusiastic bibliophile. He sent his agents in
every direction to purchase manuscripts, and collected 400,000 volumes
in his palace, which was thronged with librarians, copyists, and
bookbinders. All these books, we are told, he had himself read, and he
annotated most of them with his own hand. His munificence to scholars
knew no bounds. He made a present of 1,000 dínárs to Abu ’l-Faraj of
Iṣfahán, in order to secure the first copy that was published of the
great 'Book of Songs' (_Kitábu ’l-Aghání_), on which the author was then
engaged. Besides honouring and encouraging the learned, Ḥakam took
measures to spread the benefits of education amongst the poorest of his
subjects. With this view he founded twenty-seven free schools in the
capital and paid the teachers out of his private purse. Whilst in
Christian Europe the rudiments of learning were confined to the clergy,
in Spain almost every one could read and write.
[Sidenote: The University of Cordova.]
"The University of Cordova was at that time one of the most
celebrated in the world. In the principal Mosque, where the lectures
were held, Abú Bakr b. Mu‘áwiya, the Qurayshite, discussed the
Traditions relating to Muḥammad. Abú ‘Alí al-Qálí of Baghdád
dictated a large and excellent miscellany which contained an immense
quantity of curious information concerning the ancient Arabs, their
proverbs, their language, and their poetry. This collection he
afterwards published under the title of _Amálí_, or 'Dictations.'
Grammar was taught by Ibnu ’l-Qúṭiyya, who, in the opinion of Abú
‘Ali al-Qálí, was the leading grammarian of Spain. Other sciences
had representatives no less renowned. Accordingly the students
attending the classes were reckoned by thousands. The majority were
students of what was called _fiqh_, that is to say, theology and
law, for that science then opened the way to the most lucrative
posts."[773]
Among the notable savants of this epoch we may mention Ibn ‘Abdi Rabbihi
(† 940 A.D.), laureate of ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán III and author of a
well-known anthology entitled _al-‘Iqd al-Faríd_; the poet Ibn Hání of
Seville († 973 A.D.), an Ismá‘ílí convert who addressed blasphemous
panegyrics to the Fáṭimid Caliph Mu‘izz;[774] the historians of
Spain, Abú Bakr al-Rází († 937 A.D.), whose family belonged to Rayy in
Persia, and Ibnu ’l-Qúṭiyya († 977 A.D.), who, as his name indicates,
was the descendant of a Gothic princess; the astronomer and
mathematician Maslama b. Aḥmad of Madrid († 1007 A.D.); and the great
surgeon Abu ’l-Qásim al-Zahráwí of Cordova, who died about the same
time, and who became known to Europe by the name of Albucasis.
[Sidenote: The ‘Abbádids (1023-1091 A.D.).]
[Sidenote: Mu‘tamid of Seville (1069-1091 A.D.).]
The fall of the Spanish Umayyads, which took place in the first half of
the eleventh century, left Cordova a republic and a merely provincial
town; and though she might still claim to be regarded as the literary
metropolis of Spain, her ancient glories were overshadowed by the
independent dynasties which now begin to flourish in Seville, Almeria,
Badajoz, Granada, Toledo, Malaga, Valencia, and other cities. Of these
rival princedoms the most formidable in arms and the most brilliant in
its cultivation of the arts was, beyond question, the family of the
‘Abbádids, who reigned in Seville. The foundations of their power were
laid by the Cadi Abu ’l-Qásim Muḥammad. "He acted towards the people
with such justice and moderation as drew on him the attention of every
eye and the love of every heart," so that the office of chief magistrate
was willingly conceded to him. In order to obtain the monarchy which he
coveted, the Cadi employed an audacious ruse. The last Umayyad Caliph,
Hishám II, had vanished mysteriously: it was generally supposed that,
after escaping from Cordova when that city was stormed by the Berbers
(1013 A.D.), he fled to Asia and died unknown; but many believed that he
was still alive. Twenty years after his disappearance there suddenly
arose a pretender, named Khalaf, who gave out that he was the Caliph
Hishám. The likeness between them was strong enough to make the
imposture plausible. At any rate, the Cadi had his own reasons for
abetting it. He called on the people, who were deeply attached to the
Umayyad dynasty, to rally round their legitimate sovereign. Cordova and
several other States recognised the authority of this pseudo-Caliph,
whom Abu ’l-Qásim used as a catspaw. His son ‘Abbád, a treacherous and
bloodthirsty tyrant, but an amateur of belles-lettres, threw off the
mask and reigned under the title of al-Mu‘taḍid (1042-1069 A.D.). He
in turn was succeeded by his son, al-Mu‘tamid, whose strange and
romantic history reminds one of a sentence frequently occurring in the
_Arabian Nights_: "Were it graven with needle-gravers upon the
eye-corners, it were a warner to whoso would be warned." He is described
as "the most liberal, the most hospitable, the most munificent, and the
most powerful of all the princes who ruled in Spain. His court was the
halting-place of travellers, the rendezvous of poets, the point to which
all hopes were directed, and the haunt of men of talent."[775] Mu‘tamid
himself was a poet of rare distinction. "He left," says Ibn Bassám,
"some pieces of verse beautiful as the bud when it opens to disclose the
flower; and had the like been composed by persons who made of poetry a
profession and a merchandise, they would still have been considered
charming, admirable, and singularly original."[776] Numberless anecdotes
are told of Mu‘tamid's luxurious life at Seville: his evening rambles
along the banks of the Guadalquivir; his parties of pleasure; his
adventures when he sallied forth in disguise, accompanied by his Vizier,
the poet Ibn ‘Ammár, into the streets of the sleeping city; and his
passion for the slave-girl I‘timád, commonly known as Rumaykiyya, whom
he loved all his life with constant devotion.
Meanwhile, however, a terrible catastrophe was approaching. The causes
which led up to it are related by Ibn Khallikán as follows[777]:--
[Sidenote: The Almoravides in Spain.]
[Sidenote: Battle of Zalláqa (October 23, 1086 A.D.).]
"At that time Alphonso VI, the son of Ferdinand, the sovereign of
Castile and king of the Spanish Franks, had become so powerful that
the petty Moslem princes were obliged to make peace with him and pay
him tribute. Mu‘tamid Ibn ‘Abbád surpassed all the rest in greatness
of power and extent of empire, yet he also paid tribute to Alphonso.
After capturing Toledo (May 29, 1085 A.D.) the Christian monarch
sent him a threatening message with the demand that he should
surrender his fortresses; on which condition he might retain the
open country as his own. These words provoked Mu‘tamid to such a
degree that he struck the ambassador and put to death all those who
accompanied him.[778] Alphonso, who was marching on Cordova, no
sooner received intelligence of this event than he returned to
Toledo in order to provide machines for the siege of Seville. When
the Shaykhs and doctors of Islam were informed of this project they
assembled and said: 'Behold how the Moslem cities fall into the
hands of the Franks whilst our sovereigns are engaged in warfare
against each other! If things continue in this state the Franks will
subdue the entire country.' They then went to the Cadi (of Cordova),
‘Abdulláh b. Muḥammad b. Adham, and conferred with him on the
disasters which had befallen the Moslems and on the means by which
they might be remedied. Every person had something to say, but it
was finally resolved that they should write to Abú Ya‘qúb Yúsuf b.
Táshifín, the king of the _Mulaththamún_[779] and sovereign of
Morocco, imploring his assistance. The Cadi then waited on Mu‘tamid,
and informed him of what had passed. Mu‘tamid concurred with them on
the expediency of such an application, and told the Cadi to bear the
message himself to Yúsuf b. Táshifín. A conference took place at
Ceuta. Yúsuf recalled from the city of Morocco the troops which he
had left there, and when all were mustered he sent them across to
Spain, and followed with a body of 10,000 men. Mu‘tamid, who had
also assembled an army, went to meet him; and the Moslems, on
hearing the news, hastened from every province for the purpose of
combating the infidels. Alphonso, who was then at Toledo, took the
field with 40,000 horse, exclusive of other troops which came to
join him. He wrote a long and threatening letter to Yúsuf b.
Táshifín, who inscribed on the back of it these words: '_What will
happen thou shalt see!_' and returned it. On reading the answer
Alphonso was filled with apprehension, and observed that this was a
man of resolution. The two armies met at Zalláqa, near Badajoz. The
Moslems gained the victory, and Alphonso fled with a few others,
after witnessing the complete destruction of his army. This year was
adopted in Spain as the commencement of a new era, and was called
the year of Zalláqa."
[Sidenote: Captivity and death of Mu‘tamid.]
Mu‘tamid soon perceived that he had "dug his own grave"--to quote the
words used by himself a few years afterwards--when he sought aid from
the perfidious Almoravide. Yúsuf could not but contrast the beauty,
riches, and magnificent resources of Spain with the barren deserts and
rude civilisation of Africa. He was not content to admire at a distance
the enchanting view which had been dangled before him. In the following
year he returned to Spain and took possession of Granada. He next
proceeded to pick a quarrel with Mu‘tamid. The Berber army laid siege to
Seville, and although Mu‘tamid displayed the utmost bravery, he was
unable to prevent the fall of his capital (September, 1091 A.D.). The
unfortunate prince was thrown into chains and transported to Morocco.
Yúsuf spared his life, but kept him a prisoner at Aghmát, where he died
in 1095 A.D. During his captivity he bewailed in touching poems the
misery of his state, the sufferings which he and his family had to
endure, and the tragic doom which suddenly deprived him of friends,
fortune, and power. "Every one loves Mu‘tamid," wrote an historian of
the thirteenth century, "every one pities him, and even now he is
lamented."[780] He deserved no less, for, as Dozy remarks, he was "the
last Spanish-born king (_le dernier roi indigène_), who represented
worthily, nay, brilliantly, a nationality and culture which succumbed,
or barely survived, under the dominion of barbarian invaders."[781]
[Sidenote: Ibn Zaydún.]
The Age of the Tyrants, to borrow from Greek history a designation which
well describes the character of this period, yields to no other in
literary and scientific renown. Poetry was cultivated at every
Andalusian court. If Seville could point with just pride to Mu‘tamid and
his Vizier, Ibn ‘Ammár, Cordova claimed a second pair almost equally
illustrious--Ibn Zaydún (1003-1071 A.D.) and Walláda, a daughter of the
Umayyad Caliph al-Mustakfí. Ibn Zaydún entered upon a political career
and became the confidential agent of Ibn Jahwar, the chief magistrate of
Cordova, but he fell into disgrace, probably on account of his love for
the beautiful and talented princess, who inspired those tender melodies
which have caused the poet's European biographers to link his name with
Tibullus and Petrarch. In the hope of seeing her, although he durst not
show himself openly, he lingered in al-Zahrá, the royal suburb of
Cordova built by ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán III. At last, after many wanderings,
he found a home at Seville, where he was cordially received by
Mu‘taḍid, who treated him as an intimate friend and bestowed on him
the title of _Dhu ’l-Wizáratayn_.[782] The following verses, which he
addressed to Walláda, depict the lovely scenery of al-Zahrá and may
serve to illustrate the deep feeling for nature which, as has been said,
is characteristic of Spanish-Arabian poetry in general.[783]
"To-day my longing thoughts recall thee here;
The landscape glitters, and the sky is clear.
So feebly breathes the gentle zephyr's gale,
In pity of my grief it seems to fail.
The silvery fountains laugh, as from a girl's
Fair throat a broken necklace sheds its pearls.
Oh, 'tis a day like those of our sweet prime,
When, stealing pleasures from indulgent Time,
We played midst flowers of eye-bewitching hue,
That bent their heads beneath the drops of dew.
Alas, they see me now bereaved of sleep;
They share my passion and with me they weep.
Here in her sunny haunt the rose blooms bright,
Adding new lustre to Aurora's light;
And waked by morning beams, yet languid still,
The rival lotus doth his perfume spill.
All stirs in me the memory of that fire
Which in my tortured breast will ne'er expire.
Had death come ere we parted, it had been
The best of all days in the world, I ween;
And this poor heart, where thou art every thing,
Would not be fluttering now on passion's wing.
Ah, might the zephyr waft me tenderly,
Worn out with anguish as I am, to thee!
O treasure mine, if lover e'er possessed
A treasure! O thou dearest, queenliest!
Once, once, we paid the debt of love complete
And ran an equal race with eager feet.
How true, how blameless was the love I bore,
Thou hast forgotten; but I still adore!"
[Sidenote: Ibn Ḥazm (994-1064 A.D.).]
The greatest scholar and the most original genius of Moslem Spain is Abú
Muḥammad ‘Alí Ibn Ḥazm, who was born at Cordova in 994 A.D. He
came of a 'Renegade' family, but he was so far from honouring his
Christian ancestors that he pretended to trace his descent to a Persian
freedman of Yazíd b. Abí Sufyán, a brother of the first Umayyad Caliph,
Mu‘áwiya; and his contempt for Christianity was in proportion to his
fanatical zeal on behalf of Islam. His father, Aḥmad, had filled the
office of Vizier under Manṣúr Ibn Abí ‘Ámir, and Ibn Ḥazm himself
plunged ardently into politics as a client--through his false
pedigree--of the Umayyad House, to which he was devotedly attached.
Before the age of thirty he became prime minister of ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán
V (1023-1024 A.D.), but on the fall of the Umayyad Government he retired
from public life and gave himself wholly to literature. Ibn Bashkuwál,
author of a well-known biographical dictionary of Spanish celebrities
entitled _al-Ṣila fí akhbári a’immati ’l-Andalus_, speaks of him in
these terms: "Of all the natives of Spain Ibn Ḥazm was the most
eminent by the universality and the depth of his learning in the
sciences cultivated by the Moslems; add to this his profound
acquaintance with the Arabic tongue, and his vast abilities as an
elegant writer, a poet, a biographer, and an historian; his son
possessed about 400 volumes, containing nearly 80,000 leaves, which Ibn
Ḥazm had composed and written out."[784] It is recorded that he said,
"My only desire in seeking knowledge was to attain a high scientific
rank in this world and the next."[785] He got little encouragement from
his contemporaries. The mere fact that he belonged to the Ẓáhirite
school of theology would not have mattered, but the caustic style in
which he attacked the most venerable religious authorities of Islam
aroused such bitter hostility that he was virtually excommunicated by
the orthodox divines. People were warned against having anything to do
with him, and at Seville his writings were solemnly committed to the
flames. On this occasion he is said to have remarked--
"The paper ye may burn, but what the paper holds
Ye cannot burn: 'tis safe within my breast: where I
Remove, it goes with me, alights when I alight,
And in my tomb will lie."[786]
[Sidenote: 'The Book of Religions and Sects.']
After being expelled from several provinces of Spain, Ibn Ḥazm
withdrew to a village, of which he was the owner, and remained there
until his death. Of his numerous writings only a few have escaped
destruction, but fortunately we possess the most valuable of them all,
the 'Book of Religions and Sects' (_Kitábu ’l-Milal
wa-’l-Niḥal_),[787] which was recently printed in Cairo for the first
time. This work treats in controversial fashion (1) of the
non-Muḥammadan religious systems, especially Judaism, Christianity,
and Zoroastrianism, and (2) of Islam and its dogmas, which are of course
regarded from the Ẓáhirite standpoint, and of the four principal
Muḥammadan sects, viz., the Mu‘tazilites, the Murjites, the Shí‘ites,
and the Khárijites. The author maintains that these sects owed their
rise to the Persians, who sought thus to revenge themselves upon
victorious Islam.[788]
[Sidenote: Literature in Spain in the eleventh century.]
[Sidenote: Samuel Ha-Levi.]
The following are some of the most distinguished Spanish writers of this
epoch: the historian, Abú Marwán Ibn Ḥayyán of Cordova († 1075 A.D.),
whose chief works are a colossal history of Spain in sixty volumes
entitled _al-Matín_ and a smaller chronicle (_al-Muqtabis_), both of which
appear to have been almost entirely lost;[789] the jurisconsult and
poet, Abu ’l-Walíd al-Bájí († 1081 A.D.); the traditionist Yúsuf Ibn
‘Abd al-Barr († 1071 A.D.); and the geographer al-Bakrí, a native of
Cordova, where he died in 1094 A.D. Finally, mention should be made of
the famous Jews, Solomon Ibn Gabirol (Avicebron) and Samuel Ha-Levi. The
former, who was born at Malaga about 1020 A.D., wrote two philosophical
works in Arabic, and his _Fons Vitae_ played an important part in the
development of mediæval scholasticism. Samuel Ha-Levi was Vizier to
Bádís, the sovereign of Granada (1038-1073 A.D.). In their admiration of
his extraordinary accomplishments the Arabs all but forgot that he was a
Jew and a prince (_Naghíd_) in Israel.[790] Samuel, on his part, when he
wrote letters of State, did not scruple to employ the usual
Muḥammadan formulas, "Praise to Allah!" "May Allah bless our Prophet
Muḥammad!" and to glorify Islam quite in the manner of a good Moslem.
He had a perfect mastery of Hebrew and Arabic; he knew five other
languages, and was profoundly versed in the sciences of the ancients,
particularly in astronomy. With all his learning he was a supple
diplomat and a man of the world. Yet he always preserved a dignified and
unassuming demeanour, although in his days (according to Ibnu
’l-‘Idhárí) "the Jews made themselves powerful and behaved arrogantly
towards the Moslems."[791]
During the whole of the twelfth, and well into the first half of the
thirteenth, century Spain was ruled by two African dynasties, the
Almoravides and the Almohades, which originated, as their names denote,
in the religious fanaticism of the Berber tribes of the Sahara. The rise
of the Almoravides is related by Ibnu ’l-Athír as follows:--[792]
[Sidenote: Rise of the Almoravides.]