Chapter 11

"cast the kingdoms oldInto another mould;"

"cast the kingdoms oldInto another mould;"

and he too justified the poet's maxim—

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

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

Under the system which he organised Arabia, purged of infidels, became a vast recruiting-ground for the standing armies of Islam: the Arabs in the conquered territories formed an exclusive military class, living in great camps and supported by revenues derived from the non-Muḥammadan population. Out of such camps arose two cities destined to make theirFoundation of Baṣra and Kúfa (638a.d.).mark in literary history—Baṣra (Bassora) on the delta of the Tigris and Euphrates, and Kúfa, which was founded about the same time on the western branch of the latter stream, not far from Ḥíra.

‘Umar was murdered by a Persian slave named Fírúz while leading the prayers in the Great Mosque. WithDeath of ‘Umar (644a.d.).his death the military theocracy and the palmy days of the Patriarchal Caliphate draw to a close. The broad lines of his character appear in the anecdotes translated above, though many details might be added to complete the picture. Simple and frugal; doing his duty without fear or favour; energetic even to harshness, yet capable of tenderness towards the weak; a severe judge of others and especially of himself, he was a born ruler and every inch a man. Looking back onthe turmoils which followed his death one is inclined to agree with the opinion of a saintly doctor who said, five centuries afterwards, that "the good fortune of Islam was shrouded in the grave-clothes of ‘Umar b. al-Khaṭṭáb."361

When the Meccan aristocrats accepted Islam, they only yielded to the inevitable. They were now to have an opportunity‘Uthmán elected Caliph (644a.d.).of revenging themselves. ‘Uthmán b. ‘Affán, who succeeded ‘Umar as Caliph, belonged to a distinguished Meccan family, the Umayyads or descendants of Umayya, which had always taken a leading part in the opposition to Muḥammad, though ‘Uthmán himself was among the Prophet's first disciples. He was a pious, well-meaning old man—an easy tool in the hands of his ambitious kinsfolk. They soon climbed into all the most lucrative and important offices and lived on the fat of the land, while too often their ungodly behaviour gave point to the question whether these converts of the eleventh hour were not still heathens at heart. Other causes contributed to excite a generalGeneral disaffection.discontent. The rapid growth of luxury and immorality in the Holy Cities as well as in the new settlements was an eyesore to devout Moslems. The true Islamic aristocracy, the Companions of the Prophet, headed by ‘Alí, Ṭalḥa, and Zubayr, strove to undermine the rival nobility which threatened them with destruction. The factious soldiery were ripe for revolt against Umayyad arrogance‘Uthmán murdered (656a.d.).and greed. Rebellion broke out, and finally the aged Caliph, after enduring a siege of several weeks, was murdered in his own house. This event marks an epoch in the history of the Arabs. The ensuing civil wars rent the unity of Islam from top to bottom, and the wound has never healed.

‘Alí, the Prophet's cousin and son-in-law, who had hithertoremained in the background, was now made Caliph. Although‘Alí elected Caliph (656a.d.).the suspicion that he was in league with the murderers may be put aside, he showed culpable weakness in leaving ‘Uthmán to his fate without an effort to save him. But ‘Alí had almost every virtue except those of the ruler: energy, decision, and foresight. He was a gallant warrior, a wise counsellor, a true friend, and a generous foe.Character of ‘Alí.He excelled in poetry and in eloquence; his verses and sayings are famous throughout the Muḥammadan East, though few of them can be considered authentic. A fine spirit worthy to be compared with Montrose and Bayard, he had no talent for the stern realities of statecraft, and was overmatched by unscrupulous rivals who knew that "war is a game of deceit." Thus his career was in one sense a failure: his authority as Caliph was never admitted, while he lived, by the whole community. On the other hand, he has exerted, down to the present day, a posthumous influence onlyHis apotheosis.second to that of Muḥammad himself. Within a century of his death he came to be regarded as the Prophet's successorjure divino; as a blessed martyr, sinless and infallible; and by some even as an incarnation of God. The ‘Alí of Shí‘ite legend is not an historical figure glorified: rather does he symbolise, in purely mythical fashion, the religious aspirations and political aims of a large section of the Moslem world.

To return to our narrative. No sooner was ‘Alí proclaimed Caliph by the victorious rebels than Mu‘áwiya b.‘Alí against Mu‘áwiya.Abí Sufyán, the governor of Syria, raised the cry of vengeance for ‘Uthmán and refused to take the oath of allegiance. As head of the Umayyad family, Mu‘áwiya might justly demand that the murderers of his kinsman should be punished, but the contestbetween him and ‘Alí was virtually for the Caliphate. A great battle was fought at Ṣiffín, a village on the Euphrates. ‘Alí had well-nigh gained the dayBattle of Ṣiffín (657a.d.).when Mu‘áwiya bethought him of a stratagem. He ordered his troops to fix Korans on the points of their lances and to shout, "Here is the Book of God: let it decide between us!" The miserable trick succeeded. In ‘Alí's army there were many pious fanatics to whom the proposed arbitration by the Koran appealed with irresistible force. They now sprang forward clamorously, threatening to betray their leader unless he would submit his cause to the Book. Vainly did ‘Alí remonstrate with the mutineers, and warn them of the trap into which they were driving him, and this too at the moment when victory was within their grasp. HeArbitration.had no choice but to yield and name as his umpire a man of doubtful loyalty, Abú Músá al-Ash‘arí, one of the oldest surviving Companions of the Prophet. Mu‘áwiya on his part named ‘Amr b. al-‘Áṣ, whose cunning had prompted the decisive manœuvre. When the umpires came forth to give judgment, Abú Músá rose and in accordance with what had been arranged at the preliminary conference pronounced that both ‘Alí and Mu‘áwiya should be deposed and that theThe award.people should elect a proper Caliph in their stead. "Lo," said he, laying down his sword, "even thus do I depose ‘Alí b. Abí Ṭálib." Then ‘Amr advanced and spoke as follows: "O people! ye have heard the judgment of my colleague. He has called you to witness that he deposes ‘Alí. Now I call you to witness that I confirm Mu‘áwiya, even as I make fast this sword of mine," and suiting the action to the word, he returned it to its sheath. It is characteristic of Arabian notions of morality that this impudent fraud was hailed by Mu‘áwiya's adherents as a diplomatic triumph which gave him a colourable pretextfor assuming the title of Caliph. Both sides prepared to renew the struggle, but in the meanwhile ‘Alí found his hands full nearer home. A numerous party among his troops, including the same zealots who had forced arbitration upon him, now cast him off because he had acceptedThe Khárijites revolt against ‘Alí.it, fell out from the ranks, and raised the standard of revolt. These 'Outgoers,' or Khárijites, as they were called, maintained their theocratic principles with desperate courage, and though often defeated took the field again and again. ‘Alí's plans for recovering Syria were finally abandonedAlí assassinated (661a.d.).in 660, when he concluded peace with Mu‘áwiya, and shortly afterwards he was struck down in the Mosque at Kúfa, which he had made his capital, by Ibn Muljam, a Khárijite conspirator.

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

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

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

Mu‘áwiya was a crafty diplomatist—he has been well compared to Richelieu—whose profound knowledge of human nature enabled him to gain over men of moderate opinions in all the parties opposed to him. Events were soon to prove the hollowness of this outward reconciliation. Yazíd, who succeeded his father, was the son of Maysún, aYazíd (680-683a.d.).Bedouin woman whom Mu‘áwiya married before he rose to be Caliph. The luxury of Damascus had no charm for her wild spirit, and she gave utterance to her feeling of homesickness in melancholy verse:—

"A tent with rustling breezes coolDelights me more than palace high,And more the cloak of simple woolThan robes in which I learned to sigh.The crust I ate beside my tentWas more than this fine bread to me;The wind's voice where the hill-path wentWas more than tambourine can be.And more than purr of friendly catI love the watch-dog's bark to hear;And more than any lubbard fatI love a Bedouin cavalier."366

"A tent with rustling breezes coolDelights me more than palace high,And more the cloak of simple woolThan robes in which I learned to sigh.The crust I ate beside my tentWas more than this fine bread to me;The wind's voice where the hill-path wentWas more than tambourine can be.And more than purr of friendly catI love the watch-dog's bark to hear;And more than any lubbard fatI love a Bedouin cavalier."366

Mu‘áwiya, annoyed by the contemptuous allusion to himself, took the dame at her word. She returned to her own family, and Yazíd grew up as a Bedouin, with the instincts and tastes which belong to the Bedouins—love of pleasure, hatred of piety, and reckless disregard for the laws of religion. The beginning of his reign was marked by an event of which even now few Moslems can speak without a thrill of horror and dismay. The facts are briefly these: In the autumn of the year 680 Ḥusayn, the son of ‘Alí, claiming to be the rightful Caliph in virtue of his descent from the Prophet, quitted Mecca with his whole family and a number of devoted friends, and set out for Kúfa, where he expected the population, which was almost entirely Shí‘ite, to rally to his cause. It was a foolhardy adventure.Ḥusayn marches on Kúfa.The poet Farazdaq, who knew the fickle temper of his fellow-townsmen, told Ḥusayn that although their hearts were with him, their swords would be with the Umayyads; but his warning was given in vain. Meanwhile ‘Ubaydulláh b. Ziyád, the governor of Kúfa, having overawed the insurgents in the city and beheaded their leader, Muslim b. ‘Aqíl, who was a cousin of Ḥusayn, sent a force of cavalry with orders to bring the arch-rebel to a stand. Retreat was still open to him. But his followers cried out that the blood of Muslim must be avenged, and Ḥusayn could not hesitate. Turning northward along the Euphrates, he encamped at Karbalá with his little band, which, including the women and children, amounted to some two hundred souls. In this hopeless situation he offered terms which might have been accepted if Shamir b. Dhi ’l-Jawshan, a name for ever infamous and accursed, had not persuaded ‘Ubaydulláh to insist on unconditional surrender. The demand was refused, and Ḥusayn drew up his comrades—a handful of men and boys—for battle against the host which surrounded them. All the harrowing details invented by grief and passion can scarcelyMassacre of Ḥusayn and his followers at Karbalá (10th Muḥarram, 61a.h.= 10th October, 680a.d.).heighten the tragedy of the closing scene. It would appear that the Umayyad officers themselves shrank from the odium of a general massacre, and hoped to take the Prophet's grandson alive. Shamir, however, had no such scruples. Chafing at delay, he urged his soldiers to the assault. The unequal struggle was soon over. Ḥusayn fell, pierced by an arrow, and his brave followers were cut down beside him to the last man.

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

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

The slaughter of Ḥusayn does not complete the tale of Yazíd's enormities. Medína, the Prophet's city, havingMedína and Mecca desecrated (682-3a.d.).expelled its Umayyad governor, was sacked by a Syrian army, while Mecca itself, where ‘Abdulláh b. Zubayr had set up as rival Caliph, was besieged, and the Ka‘ba laid in ruins. These outrages, shocking to Moslem sentiment, kindled a flame of rebellion. Ḥusayn was avenged by Mukhtár,Rebellion of Mukhtár (685-6a.d.).who seized Kúfa and executed some three hundred of the guilty citizens, including the miscreant Shamir. His troops defeated and slew ‘Ubaydulláh b. Ziyád, but he himself was slain, not long afterwards, byMus‘ab, the brother of Ibn Zubayr, and seven thousand of his followers were massacred in cold blood. On Yazíd's death (683) the Umayyad Empire threatened to fall to pieces. As a contemporary poet sang—

"Now loathed of all men is the Fury blindWhich blazeth as a fire blown by the wind.They are split in sects: each province hath its ownCommander of the Faithful, each its throne."368

"Now loathed of all men is the Fury blindWhich blazeth as a fire blown by the wind.They are split in sects: each province hath its ownCommander of the Faithful, each its throne."368

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

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

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

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

‘Abdu ’l-Malik succeeded his father in 685, but required seven years of hard fighting to make good his claim to the‘Abdu ’l-Malik and his successors.Caliphate. When his most formidable rival, Ibn Zubayr, had fallen in battle (692), the eastern provinces were still overrun by rebels, who offered a desperate resistance to the governor of ‘Iráq, the iron-handed Ḥajjáj. But enough of bloodshed. Peace also had her victories during the troubled reign of ‘Abdu ’l-Malik and the calmer sway of his successors. Four of the next five Caliphs were his own sons—Walíd (705-715), Sulaymán (715-717), Yazíd II (720-724), and Hishám (724-743); the fifth, ‘Umar II, was the son of his brother, ‘Abdu ’l-‘Azíz. For the greater part of this time the Moslem lands enjoyed a well-earned interval of repose and prosperity, which mitigated, though it could not undo, the frightful devastation wrought bytwenty years of almost continuous civil war. Many reforms were introduced, some wholly political in character, while others inspired by the same motives have, none the less, a direct bearing on literary history. ‘Abdu ’l-MalikReforms of ‘Abdu ’l-Malik.organised an excellent postal service, by means of relays of horses, for the conveyance of despatches and travellers; he substituted for the Byzantine and Persian coins, which had hitherto been in general use, new gold and silver pieces, on which be caused sentences from the Koran to be engraved; and he made Arabic, instead of Greek or Persian, the official language of financial administration. Steps were taken, moreover, to improve the extremely defective Arabic script, and in this way to provide a sound basis for the study and interpretation of the Koran as well as for the collection ofḥadíthsor sayings of the Prophet, which form an indispensable supplement thereto. The Arabic alphabet, as it was then written, consisted entirelyThe writing of Arabic.of consonants, so that, to give an illustration from English,bndmight denoteband,bend,bind, orbond;crtmight stand forcart,carat,curt, and so on. To an Arab this ambiguity mattered little; far worse confusion arose from the circumstance that many of the consonants themselves were exactly alike: thus,e.g., it was possible to read the same combination of three letters asbnt,nbt,byt,tnb,ntb,nyb, and in various other ways. Considering the difficulties of the Arabic language, which are so great that a European aided by scientific grammars and unequivocal texts will often find himself puzzled even when he has become tolerably familiar with it, one may imagine that the Koran was virtually a sealed book to all but a few among the crowds of foreigners who accepted Islam after the early conquests. ‘Abdu’l-Malik's viceroy in ‘Iráq, the famous Ḥajjáj, who began life as a schoolmaster, exerted himself to promote the use of vowel-marks (borrowed from the Syriac) and of the diacritical points placed above or below similar consonants. This extraordinary mandeserves more than a passing mention. A stern disciplinarian, who could be counted upon to do his duty without any regard to public opinion, he was chosen by ‘Abdu ’l-Malik to besiege Mecca, which Ibn Zubayr was holdingḤajjáj b. Yúsuf († 714a.d.).as anti-Caliph. Ḥajjáj bombarded the city, defeated the Pretender, and sent his head to Damascus. Two years afterwards he became governor of ‘Iráq. Entering the Mosque at Kúfa, he mounted the pulpit and introduced himself to the assembled townsmen in these memorable words:—

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

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

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

It was a common saying at Damascus that under Walíd people talked of fine buildings, under Sulaymán of cookeryWalíd (705-715a.d.).and the fair sex, while in the reign of ‘Umar b. ‘Abd al-‘Azíz the Koran and religion formed favourite topics of conversation.376Of Walíd's passion for architecture we have a splendid monument in the Great Mosque of Damascus (originally the Cathedral of St. John), which is the principal sight of the city to this day. He spoke Arabic very incorrectly, and though his father rebuked him, observing that "in order to rule the Arabs one must be proficient in their language," he could never learn to express himself with propriety.377The unbroken peace which now prevailed within the Empire enabled Walíd to resume the work of conquest. In the East his armies invaded Transoxania, captured Bokhárá and Samarcand, and pushed forward to the Chinese frontier. AnotherMoslem conquests in the East.force crossed the Indus and penetrated as far as Múltán, a renowned centre of pilgrimage in the Southern Punjaub, which fell into the hands of the Moslems after a prolonged siege. But the most brilliant advance, and the richest in its results, was that in the extreme West, which decided the fate of Spain. Although the Moslems had obtained a footing in Northern Africa some thirty years before this time, their position was always precarious, until in 709 Músáb. Nuṣayr completely subjugated the Berbers, and extended not only the dominion but also the faith of Islam to the Atlantic Ocean. Two years later his freedman ṬáriqConquest of Spain (711-713a.d.).crossed the straits and took possession of the commanding height, called by the ancients Calpe, but henceforth known as Jabal Ṭáriq (Gibraltar). Roderic, the last of the West Gothic dynasty, gathered an army in defence of his kingdom, but there were traitors in the camp, and, though he himself fought valiantly, their defection turned the fortunes of the day. The king fled, and it was never ascertained what became of him. Ṭáriq, meeting with feeble resistance, marched rapidly on Toledo, while Músá, whose jealousy was excited by the triumphal progress of his lieutenant, now joined in the campaign, and, storming city after city, reached the Pyrenees. The conquest of Spain, which is told by Moslem historians with many romantic circumstances, marks the nearest approach that the Arabs ever made to World-Empire. Their advance on French soil was finally hurled back by Charles the Hammer's great victory at Tours (732a.d.).

Before taking leave of the Umayyads we must not forget to mention ‘Umar b. ‘Abd al-‘Azíz, a ruler who stands out in‘Umar b. ‘Abd al-‘Azíz (717-720a.d.).singular contrast with his predecessors, and whose brief reign is regarded by many Moslems as the sole bright spot in a century of godless and bloodstained tyranny. There had been nothing like it since the days of his illustrious namesake and kinsman,378‘Umar b. al-Khaṭṭáb, and we shall find nothing like it in the future history of the Caliphate. Plato desired that every king should be a philosopher: according to Muḥammadan theory every Caliph ought to be a saint. ‘Umar satisfied these aspirations. When he came to the throne the following dialogue is said to have occurred between him and one of his favourites, Sálim al-Suddí:—

‘Umar: "Are you glad on account of my accession, or sorry?"Sálim: "I am glad for the people's sake, but sorry for yours."‘Umar: "I fear that I have brought perdition upon my soul."Sálim: "If you are afraid, very good. I only fear that you may cease to be afraid."‘Umar: "Give me a word of counsel."Sálim: "Our father Adam was driven forth from Paradise because of one sin."379

‘Umar: "Are you glad on account of my accession, or sorry?"Sálim: "I am glad for the people's sake, but sorry for yours."‘Umar: "I fear that I have brought perdition upon my soul."Sálim: "If you are afraid, very good. I only fear that you may cease to be afraid."‘Umar: "Give me a word of counsel."Sálim: "Our father Adam was driven forth from Paradise because of one sin."379

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

The remaining Umayyads do not call for particular notice. Hishám ranks as a statesman with Mu‘áwiya and ‘AbduHishám and Walíd II.’l-Malik: the great ‘Abbásid Caliph, Manṣúr, is said to have admired and imitated his methods of government.382Walíd II was an incorrigible libertine, whose songs celebrating the forbidden delights of wine have much merit. The eminent poet and freethinker, Abu ’l-‘Alá al-Ma‘arrí, quotes these verses by him383:—

"The Imám Walíd am I! In all my gloryVerses by Walíd II (743-4a.d.).Of trailing robes I listen to soft lays.When proudly I sweep on towards her chamber,I care not who inveighs.There's no true joy but lending ear to music,Or wine that leaves one sunk in stupor dense.Houris in Paradise I do not look for:Does any man of sense?"

"The Imám Walíd am I! In all my gloryVerses by Walíd II (743-4a.d.).Of trailing robes I listen to soft lays.When proudly I sweep on towards her chamber,I care not who inveighs.There's no true joy but lending ear to music,Or wine that leaves one sunk in stupor dense.Houris in Paradise I do not look for:Does any man of sense?"

Let us now turn from the monarchs to their subjects.

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

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

Among the myriads striving for this consummation, and so far making common cause with each other, we can distinguishParties opposed to the Umayyad government.four principal classes.

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

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

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

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

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

When ‘Alí, on the field of Ṣiffin, consented that the claims of Mu‘áwiya and himself to the Caliphate should be decidedThe Khárijites.by arbitration, a large section of his army accused him of having betrayed his trust. He, the duly elected Caliph—so they argued—should have maintained the dignity of his high office inviolate at all costs. On the homeward march the malcontents, some twelve thousand in number, broke away and encamped by themselves at Ḥarúrá, a village near Kúfa. Their cry was, "God alone can decide" (lá ḥukma illá lilláhi): in these terms they protested against the arbitration. ‘Alí endeavoured to win them back, but without any lasting success. They elected a Caliph from among themselves, and gathered at Nahrawán, four thousandBattle of Nahrawán (658a.d.).strong. On the appearance of ‘Alí with a vastly superior force many of the rebels dispersed, but the remainder—about half—preferred to die for their faith. Nahrawán was to the Khárijites what Karbalá afterwards became to the Shí‘ites, who from this day were regarded by the former as their chief enemies. Frequent Khárijite risings took place during the early Umayyad period, butKhárijite risings.the movement reached its zenith in the years of confusion which followed Yazíd's death. The Azraqites, so called after their leader, Náfi‘ b. al-Azraq, overran ‘Iráq and Southern Persia, while another sect, the Najdites, led byNajda b. ‘Ámir, reduced the greater part of Arabia to submission. The insurgents held their ground for a long time against ‘Abdu ’l-Malik, and did not cease from troubling until the rebellion headed by Shabíb was at last stamped out by Ḥajjáj in 697.

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

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

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


Back to IndexNext