Authors: Timothy H. Parsons
Tags: #Oxford University Press, #9780195304312, #Inc
which became the dominant form of Islamic jurisprudence in AlAndalus, devoted themselves to rooting out these sinful innovations
and equated heresy with political subversion. At all costs, they strove
mightily to maintain the imperial boundaries that separated devout
Muslims from their unbelieving subjects.
Christian leaders, who felt they were watching their community
disappear before their eyes, were even more dismayed by these blurred
identities. Drawing inspiration from the heroic martyrs of the late
Roman era, a handful of scholars and Christian zealots in Córdoba
began to publicly disparage Islam in the 850s. It is telling that they
knew just what to say to enrage the Muslim clerical establishment.
Seeking to force the Andalusi authorities to put him to death, Isaac de
Tábanos, a civil servant and the son of a prominent Christian family,
provoked a Muslim judge by publicly slandering those who followed
Muhammad: “Such a man is full of the devil, is promoting devilish
delusions, is handing out a cup of deadly poison, and will suffer the
pains of eternal damnation.”24 The Muslim cleric attempted to defuse
the situation by suggesting that only a drunkard or madman would
be so self-destructively rash, but Isaac openly declared that he was
sane and challenged the authorities to put him to death.
The Umayyads grudgingly obliged him, but the subversion continued when a prominent cleric named Eulogius publicized Isaac’s
defi ance and sacrifi ce to inspire more martyrs. Between 850 and
857, the emirate executed forty-eight Cordobans for blasphemy or
apostasy. Some were Christian zealots like Isaac, but others were
the products of mixed marriages who were technically Muslims.
Flora, who was raised a secret Christian by her mother after her
Muslim father died, tried to run away to a monastery, but willingly
accepted torture and death when her Muslim brother denounced
her to the authorities.
Muslim
Spain 101
The Cordoban martyrs were not anti-imperial revolutionaries.
Rather, they sought to preserve their faith and identity by making
Muslim rule less tolerable for Iberian Christians. They died horribly,
but they succeeded in disrupting the elite alliances and compromises
that held Andalusi society together. Faced with their inexcusable
blasphemy, Abd al-Rahman II and his successor Muhammad I had to
crack down by executing Eulogius, destroying new churches, dismissing Christian bureaucrats, and increasing taxes on non-Muslims.
The emirs also pressed the Andalusi bishops, who were equally
horrifi ed by the martyrdoms, to exercise greater discipline over their
fl ock. The bishop of Córdoba went into hiding because he could not
control the city’s Christian community to the emirate’s satisfaction, but in 854 a council of Christian nobles and clergymen had no
choice but to denounce Isaac and his followers publicly as heretics. As
Umayyad functionaries, they had little sympathy for this small group
of fanatics who threatened their leadership of Christian Al-Andalus.
The execution of Eulogius, who eventually became a Catholic saint,
helped put an end to the organized martyrdoms in Córdoba. Even so,
individuals continued to make fatal public expressions of their faith
well into the tenth century despite the relatively easy option of emigrating to the Christian north.
Taken together, the ninth-century
muwallad
revolts and Christian
martyrdoms demonstrate the precariousness of the imperial social
boundaries defi ning citizen and subject in imperial Al-Andalus. While
religion would appear to sharply defi ne identity, the distinction between
Christian and Muslim and between Iberian and invader blurred considerably under the Umayyads. Conversion and arabization were two of
the most obvious forms of interaction, but conjugal relations and intermarriage between Muslim Arab men and Christian Iberian women
introduced gender as a problematical marker of imperial identity. The
Romans almost certainly established relationships with female Britons,
but there is little direct historical or archaeological information about
how these contacts fi t into the larger processes of Roman imperialism. In contrast, documentary evidence makes it easier to tease out the
implications of cross-cultural sex and marriage in Al-Andalus.
As in most empires, the conquerors of Iberia considered subject
women a legitimate form of plunder. The initial phase of imperial
domination under the early Arab caliphate produced clear guidelines
102 THE RULE OF EMPIRES
on how Muslims could enslave or marry non-Muslim women. As
dhimmi
, Jewish and Christian females did not have an obligation to
convert to Islam if they became the wives or concubines of Muslim
men, but Islamic law dictated that their children had to be raised as
free Muslims. The case of the Cordoban martyr Flora, however, suggests that the daughters of these unions were sometimes, perhaps
often, secretly brought up as Christians. This implies that over time
religion and imperial citizenship became gendered within the narrow
confi nes of elite Andalusi families as sons identifi ed themselves as
Arabs and Muslims and daughters as Iberian and Christian.
Arab and Berber men may have subjugated Iberia politically and
made Islam the dominant imperial ideology, but they were themselves
assimilated into Iberian culture over succeeding generations through
intimate relations with their female subjects. Iberian women introduced sons and daughters to their culture and taught them to speak
local dialects. The most signifi cant and infl uential of these children
were the Umayyad rulers themselves. Although they proudly traced
their lineage to Damascus, most members of the royal family were
the sons of Christian mothers ranging in status from slave concubines
to northern princesses. According to the Andalusi theologian and historian Ibn Hazm, all but one of the Andalusi caliphs had blond hair
and blue eyes. By the ninth century, Muslim clerics worried openly
about the contaminating infl uences of Christian wives. At the very
least, they were free to eat pork and drink wine before they had sex
with their Muslim husbands or nursed their Muslim children. More
signifi cant, they blurred the imperial social boundaries that enabled
the Andalusi regime to extract wealth from its Iberian subjects.
Fortunately for the Umayyads, these cross-cultural social contacts were largely limited to city dwellers and nobles. Common rural
Iberians, who interacted rarely with the Arab settlers, had far less
incentive to follow the lead of their learned or urban counterparts in
embracing Islam or adopting Arab cultural practices. The exploitive
realities of medieval rule meant that, despite the Islamic legal protections for converts, those who did convert remained subject to tribute
payments in the form of
jizya
and
kharaj
if they lived within reach
of Umayyad tax collectors
.
By the ninth century, the Umayyads pretended that they ruled an entirely Muslim state, but it appears that
relatively isolated agrarian and pastoral majorities continued to prac-Muslim
Spain 103
tice their version of Christianity quietly. This probably explains why
Ibn Hawqal found the Iberian countryside to be still largely Christian
in the mid-tenth century.
These realities did not prevent Abd al-Rahman III from making
the Andalusi caliphate into a major political and economic infl uence
in the western Mediterranean, but as was the case with his forebearer
Abd al-Rahman I, his successors struggled to maintain his legacy. Following the death of his son al-Hakam II in 976, real power in the
caliphate fell into the hands of a hereditary line of chamberlains who
ruled through Abd al-Rahman’s relatively impotent heirs. The most
infl uential of these ministers was Muhammad ibn Abi Amir, who
took the title al-Mansur, “the victorious,” in celebration of his military accomplishments in the north. He copied the Quran by hand and
expanded the grand mosque in Córdoba to establish his legitimacy,
but his piety did not deter him from marrying a daughter of the king
of Navarre. Their son Abd al-Rahman, who had the Christian nickname Sanchuelo, ended the power of the chamberlains in 1009 by
rashly trying to depose the puppet Umayyad caliph. The resulting
civil war, in which six different Umayyad princes tried to seize power,
fatally weakened the caliphate and fragmented Al-Andalus.
This fratricidal struggle brought a fi nal and decisive end to three
centuries of Umayyad rule and produced more than sixty petty kingdoms run by
muwalladun
, Berbers, Arab elites, descendants of the
chamberlains, and former slave soldiers. Lasting from 1031 to 1084,
the
taifa
(faction/party) era saw the reemergence of local authority
on the Iberian Peninsula. Ironically, it also marked the high point
of Andalusi cultural achievement, as the various regional potentates
became patrons of the arts and letters to burnish their royal credentials. The fragmentation of the caliphate into petty kingdoms also
created opportunities for northern Christians. Fernando I united the
kingdoms of León and Castile under a single crown, and his heirs
recaptured the old Visigothic capital of Toledo. Flexing their military might, they exploited the confl icts between the
taifa
rulers and
extracted tribute from Muslim clients. These payments became a signifi cant revenue stream for the Christian kingdoms and a source of
shame for the proud Islamic rulers of Al-Andalus.
The pendulum swung back in favor of the Muslims in the early
eleventh century when Sinhaji Berbers invaded the peninsula. Known
104 THE RULE OF EMPIRES
in Spanish history as the Almoravids, they followed charismatic
Muslim clerics who preached a return to the purer form of Islam of
the original
rashidun
caliphs. The Almoravids conquered Morocco in
1083 and crossed into Spain eight years later in response to a plea
from a
taifa
ruler for help against the Christians. Their leader, Yusuf
ibn Tashufi n, reunited southern Al-Andalus but could not recapture
Toledo. The Almoravids condemned the Andalusis for their decadence and weakness, but Yusuf’s heir Ali himself became enamored
with the rich court of life of medieval Iberia. Weakened by constant
warfare with the north and revolts by Andalusi regional elites, the
Almoravid regime collapsed with Ali’s death in 1143. Once again, AlAndalus broke into petty
taifa
states until a new and even more puritanical Berber movement known as the Almohads intervened four
years later. For the next half century they governed southern Iberia
as a province of their larger North African empire.
It is diffi cult to determine exactly how these developments affected
non-Muslim Iberians. Interestingly, urban Christianity appears to
have largely disappeared from what remained of Al-Andalus after
the
taifa
era, and eleventh-century Arab historians made no further
mention of Andalusi Christians. The Latin-based vernacular language, known to linguists as Romance, seems to have fallen out of use
in the southern Iberian cities, and the
taifa
rulers relied largely on
interpreters to communicate with non-Muslims. When King Alfonso
VI of León conquered Toledo in 1085 his forces found that the population spoke only Arabic. Technically, practicing Christians required
an established clergy to administer the baptismal rites to sustain a
Christian identity over succeeding generations, but the church had
largely disappeared from much of Al-Andalus by this period.25
The majority of Iberians still might have considered themselves
believers, but it would have been diffi cult for them to remain formal
Christians without the ministrations of the clergy. Moreover, archaeological evidence indicating the widespread use of North African
cooking vessels and dinnerware suggests that much of the population
followed the dietary and social practices of the wider Islamic world in
the tenth century.26 This does not necessarily mean that a majority
of rural Iberians became Muslims. Local particularism was still more
than strong enough in the medieval era that they may well have lived
alongside Berber and Arab migrant communities while continuing to
Muslim
Spain 105
speak regional dialects of Romance among themselves and observe
the Christian faith in their own way. Seeking to escape the tribute
demands of the later caliphate, the
taifa
states, and the Berber invaders, rural communities may have disappeared from the historical
record as they tried to ride out these diffi cult times by withdrawing
deeper into their own local worlds. Consequently, they would have
had little reason to revolt against “foreign” Muslim rulers.
It is likely that the majority of urban and aristocratic Mozarabs
either converted to Islam, emigrated north, or retreated to the relative
isolation of the countryside by the end of the
taifa
era. The Cordoban
martyrdoms show that conversion had already begun to shrink the
urban Christian community by the ninth century. This suggests that,