The Age of Faith

by Will Durant

  Did Amr destroy the Alexandrian Library? The earliest mention of this story is found in Abd al-Latif (1162–1231), a Moslem scientist;2 it is more fully given in Bar-Hebraeus (1226–86), a Christianized Jew of eastern Syria, who wrote in Arabic, under the name of Abu-’l-Faraj, an epitome of world history. In his account an Alexandrian grammarian, John Philoponus, asked Amr to give him the manuscripts of the library; Amr wrote to Omar for permission; the Caliph, we are told, replied: “If these writings of the Greeks agree with the Book of God, they are useless, and need not be preserved; if they disagree they are pernicious, and should be destroyed”; legend shortens this probably legendary answer to “Burn the libraries, for they are contained in one book”—the Koran. According to Bar-Hebraeus, Amr distributed the contents of the library among the city’s public baths, whose 4000 furnaces were fueled for six months with the papyrus and parchment rolls (642). Against this story it should be noted that (1) a large part of the library had been destroyed by Christian ardor under the Patriarch Theophilus in 392;3 (2) the remainder had suffered such hostility and neglect that “most of the collection had disappeared by 642”;4 and (3) in the 500 years between the supposed event and its first reporter no Christian historian mentions it, though one of them, Eutychius, Archbishop of Alexandria in 933, described the Arab conquest of Alexandria in great detail.5 The story is now generally rejected as a fable. In any case the gradual dissolution of the Alexandrian Library was a tragedy of some moment, for it was believed to contain the complete published works of Æschylus, Sophocles, Polybius, Livy, Tacitus, and a hundred others, who have come down to us in mangled form; full texts of the pre-Socratic philosophers, who survive only in snatches; and thousands of volumes of Greek, Egyptian, and Roman history, science, literature, and philosophy.

  Amr administered Egypt competently. Part of the oppressive taxation financed the repair of canals and dikes, and the reopening of an eighty-mile canal between the Nile and the Red Sea; ships could now sail from the Mediterranean into the Indian Ocean.6 (This canal was again choked with sand in 723, and was abandoned.) Amr built a new capital on the site where he had pitched his camp in 641; it was called al-Fustat, apparently from the Arabic for tent; it was the first form of Cairo. There for two centuries (661–868) Moslem governors ruled Egypt for the caliphs of Damascus or Baghdad.

  Every conquest creates a new frontier, which, being exposed to danger, suggests further conquest. To protect Moslem Egypt from flank attack by Byzantine Cyrene, an army of 40,000 Moslems advanced through the desert to Barca, took it, and marched to the neighborhood of Carthage. The Moslem general planted his spear in the sand some eighty miles south of the modern Tunis, built a camp, and so founded (670) one of Islam’s major cities, Qairwan—“the resting place.” Realizing that the capture of Carthage would give the Moslems control of the Mediterranean and an open road to Spain, the Greek emperor sent troops and a fleet; the Berbers, forgetting for a moment their hatred of Rome, joined in defending the city; and it was not till 698 that Carthage was subdued. Soon thereafter Africa was conquered to the Atlantic’s shores. The Berbers were persuaded, almost on their own terms, to accept Moslem rule, and presently the Moslem faith. Africa was divided into three provinces: Egypt with its capital at al-Fustat, Ifriqiya with its capital at Qairwan, Maghreb (Morocco) with its capital at Fez.

  For a century even these provinces acknowledged the Eastern caliphs as their sovereigns. But the difficulties of communication and transport were increased by the removal of the caliphate to Baghdad; and one by one the African provinces became independent kingdoms. An Idrisid dynasty (789–974) ruled at Fez, an Aghlabid dynasty (800–909) at Qairwan, and a Tulunid dynasty (869–905) in Egypt. That ancient granary, no longer robbed of its product by foreign masters, entered upon a minor renaissance. Ahmad ibn Tulun (869–84) conquered Syria for Egypt, built a new capital at Qatai (a suburb of al-Fustat), promoted learning and art, raised palaces, public baths, a hospital, and the great mosque that still stands as his monument. His son Khumarawayh (884–95) transmuted this energy into luxury, walled his palace with gold, and taxed his people to provide himself with a pool of quicksilver on which his bed of inflated leather cushions might gently float to win him sleep. Forty years after his death the Tulunids were replaced by another Turkish dynasty, the Ikshidid (935–69). These African monarchies, having no roots in the blood or traditions of the people, had to base their rule on military force and leadership; and when wealth weakened their martial ardor their power melted away.

  The greatest of the African dynasties reinforced its military supremacy by associating itself with an almost fanatical religious belief. About 905 Abu Abdallah appeared in Tunisia, preached the Ismaili doctrine of the seven Imams, proclaimed the early coming of the Mahdi or Savior, and won such a following among the Berbers that he was able to overthrow the Aghlabid rule in Qairwan. To meet the expectations he had aroused he summoned from Arabia Obeidallah ibn Muhammad, alleged grandson of the Ismaili prophet Abdallah, hailed him as the Mahdi, made him king (909), and was soon put to death by his king’s command. Obeidallah claimed descent from Fatima, and gave her name to his dynasty.

  Under the Aghlabids and Fatimids North Africa renewed the prosperity it had known in the heyday of Carthage and under imperial Rome. In the youth of their vigor the Moslem conquerors in the ninth century opened three routes, 1500 to 2000 miles long, across the Sahara to Lake Chad and Timbuctu; northward and westward they established ports at Bône, Oran, Ceuta, and Tangier; a fructifying commerce bound the Sudan with the Mediterranean, and Eastern Islam with Morocco and Spain. Spanish Moslem refugees brought to Morocco the art of leather; Fez flourished as a center of exchange with Spain, and became famous for its dyes, perfumes, and rimless cylindrical red hats.

  In 969 the Fatimids wrested Egypt from the Ikshidids, and soon thereafter spread their rule over Arabia and Syria. The Fatimid Caliph Muizz transferred his capital to Qahira (Cairo): as Qatai had been a northeastern extension of Fustat, so Qahira (“the victorious”) was a northeastern prolongation of Qatai, and, like its predecessors, began as a military camp. Under Muizz (953–75) and his son Aziz (975–96), the vizier Yaqub ibn Qillis, a Baghdad Jew converted to Islam, reorganized the administration of Egypt, and made the Fatimids the richest rulers of their time. When Muizz’ sister Rashida died she left 2,700,000 dinars ($12,825,000), and 12,000 robes; when his sister Abda died she left 3,000 silver vases, 400 swords damascened in gold, 30,000 pieces of Sicilian textiles, and a hoard of jewelry.7 But nothing fails like success. The next caliph, al-Hakim (996–1021), went half mad with wealth and power. He arranged the assassination of several viziers, persecuted Christians and Jews, burned many churches and synagogues, and ordered the demolition of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem; the execution of this order was a contributory cause of the Crusades. As if to repeat the career of Caligula, he proclaimed himself a god, and sent missionaries to establish his cult among the people; when some of these preachers were killed he took Christians and Jews back into favor, and rebuilt their shrines. He was assassinated at the age of thirty-six.

  Despite these royal prerogatives Egypt prospered as the commercial link between Europe and Asia. Increasingly the merchants of India and China sailed past the Persian Gulf and up the Red Sea and the Nile into Egypt; the wealth and power of Baghdad declined, those of Cairo grew. Nasir-i-Khosru, visiting the new capital in 1047, described it as having 20,000 houses, mostly of brick, rising to five or six stories, and 20,000 shops “so filled with gold, jewelry, embroideries, and satins that there was no room to sit down.”8 The main streets were protected against the sun, and were lighted at night by lamps. Prices were fixed by the government, and anyone caught charging more was paraded through the city on a camel, ringing a bell and confessing his crime.9 Millionaires were numerous; one merchant, a Christian, fed the whole population at his own expense during five years of famine caused by the low level of the Nile; and Yaqub ibn Qillis left an estate of some $30,000,000.10 Such men joined wi
th the Fatimid caliphs in building mosques, libraries, and colleges, and fostering the sciences and the arts. Despite occasional cruelties, wasteful luxuries, the usual exploitation of labor, and the proper number of wars, the rule of the Fatimids was in general beneficent and liberal, and could compare, in prosperity and culture, with any age in Egyptian history.11

  The wealth of the Fatimids reached its peak in the long reign of Mustansir (1036–94), the son of a Sudanese slave. He built for himself a pleasure pavilion, and lived a life of music, wine, and ease; “this,” he said, “is more pleasant than staring at the Black Stone, listening to the muezzin’s drone, and drinking impure water” (from Mecca’s holy well of Zemzem).12 In 1067 his Turkish troops rebelled, raided his palace, and carried away, as loot, priceless treasures of art, great quantities of jewelry, and twenty-five camel-loads of manuscripts; some of these served the Turkish officers as fuel to heat their homes, while exquisite leather bindings mended the shoes of their slaves. When Mustansir died the Fatimid empire fell to pieces; its once powerful army broke into quarreling factions of Berbers, Sudanese, and Turks; Ifriqiya and Morocco had already seceded, Palestine revolted, Syria was lost. When, in 1171, Saladin dethroned the last Fatimid caliph, one more Egyptian dynasty had followed its predecessors through power and pleasure to decay.

  II. ISLAMIC CIVILIZATION IN AFRICA: 641–1058

  The courts of Cairo, Qairwan, and Fez rivaled one another in the support of architecture, painting, music, poetry, and philosophy. But nearly all the surviving manuscripts of Islamic Africa in this period are hidden in libraries which Western scholarship is just beginning to explore; much of the art has perished, and only the mosques proclaim the vigor and spirit of the age. At Qairwan stands the mosque of Sidi Oqba, originally built in 670, seven times restored, and mostly dating from 838; its cloisters of round arches are upheld by hundreds of Corinthian columns from the ruins of Carthage; its pulpit is a masterpiece of wood carving, its mihrab a splendor of porphyry and faïence; its square and massive minaret—the oldest in the world13—set a Syrian style for the minarets of the West. This mosque made Qairwan the fourth holy city of Islam, one of “the four gates to Paradise.” Only less sacred and magnificent were the mosques of Fez and Marraqesh, of Tunis and Tripoli.

  In Cairo the mosques were many and immense; 300 still adorn that charming capital. The mosque of Amr, begun in 642, was rebuilt in the tenth century; nothing remains of its early constituents except the fine Corinthian columns judiciously rescued from Roman and Byzantine ruins. The mosque of Ibn Tulun (878) precariously preserves its first form and ornament. A high crenellated wall surrounds its roomy court; within are pointed arches older than any others in Egypt except the arch of the Nilometer (865)—a structure built on an island in the Nile to measure the rise of the river; possibly this graceful and convenient form of the arch passed from Egypt through Sicily and the Normans to Gothic Europe.14 In the zigguratlike minaret, and in the domed tomb of Ibn Tulun, are horseshoe arches—one of the less pleasing features of Moslem art. It is told of Ibn Tulun that he had intended to raise the arches on 300 columns; but when he learned that these could be secured only by dismantling Roman or Christian edifices, he decided, instead, to support the arches with massive piers of brick;15 here again this mosque may have suggested a characteristic element of the Gothic style. Finally, as if to make the building a steppingstone to Chartres, some of the windows were filled with colored glass, some with grilles of stone in rosette or stellar or other geometrical designs; these, however, are of uncertain date.

  In 970–2 Jauhar, the converted Christian slave who had conquered Egypt for the Fatimids, built the mosque of el-Azhar (“the brilliant”); some of the original structure is still in place; here too are pointed arches, rising on 380 columns of marble, granite, or porphyry. The mosque of al-Hakim (990–1012) was built of stone, and most of it survives, though in disuse and decay; some conception of its medieval splendor may be gathered from its elegant stucco arabesques, and the fine Kufic inscription of the frieze. Once these mosques, now as forbidding as fortresses (and doubtless so designed) were glorified with exquisite carving and lettering, mosaic, and tiled mihrabs, and chandeliers that have become museum rarities. The mosque of Ibn Tulun had 18,000 lamps, many of varicolored enameled glass.16

  The minor arts were practiced in Islamic Africa with Moslem patience and finesse. Lustered tiles appear in the Qairwan mosque. Nasir-i-Khosru (1050) described Cairene pottery “so delicate and translucent that the hand placed on the outside can be seen from within.”17 Egyptian and Syrian glass continued their ancient excellence. Fatimid rock-crystal wares, preserved intact through a thousand years, are treasured in Venice, Florence, and the Louvre. Wood carvers delighted the eye with their work on mosque doors, pulpit panels, mihrabs, and window lattices. From their Coptic subjects the Egyptian Moslems took the art of decorating boxes, chests, tables, and other objects with inlay or marquetry of wood, ivory, bone, or mother-of-pearl. Jewelry abounded. When Turkish mercenaries raided the chambers of al-Mustansir they came away with thousands of articles in gold—inkstands, chessmen, vases, birds, artificial trees set with precious stones….18 Among the spoils were curtains of silk brocade worked with gold thread, and bearing the pictures and biographies of famous kings. From the Copts, again, the Moslems learned to stamp and print patterns upon textiles with wooden blocks; this technique was apparently carried from Islamic Egypt to Europe by Crusaders, and may have shared in the development of printing. European merchants rated Fatimid textiles above all others, and told with awe of Cairene and Alexandrian fabrics so fine that a robe could be drawn through a finger ring.19 We hear of luxurious Fatimid rugs, and of tents made of velvet, satin, damask, silk, and cloth of gold, and decorated with paintings; a tent made for Yazuri, al-Mustansir’s vizier, required the labor of 150 men over nine years, cost 30,000 dinars ($142,500), and claimed to picture all the known animal species of the world except homo lupus. All that remains of Fatimid paintings is some fragmentary frescoes in the Arab Museum at Cairo. No miniatures survive from Fatimid Egypt, but Maqrizi—who in the fifteenth century wrote a history of painting—tells us that the library of the Fatimid caliphs contained hundreds of richly illuminated manuscripts, including 2400 Korans.

  In the days of al-Hakim the caliphal library at Cairo had 100,000 volumes; in al-Mustansir’s time, 200,000. We are told that the manuscripts were lent without charge to all responsible students. In 988 the vizier Yaqub ibn Qillis persuaded the Caliph Aziz to provide tuition and maintenance for thirty-five students in the mosque of el-Azhar; thus began the oldest existing university. As this madrasah developed it drew pupils from all the Moslem world, as the University of Paris, a century later, would draw them from all Europe. Caliphs, viziers, and rich individuals added year by year to the scholarships, until in our time el-Azhar has some 10,000 students and 300 professors.20 One of the most pleasant sights of world travel is the assemblage of students in the cloisters of this thousand-year-old mosque, each group squatting in a semicircle at the base of a pillar before a seated savant. Famous scholars from all Islam came here to teach grammar, rhetoric, mathematics, poetry, logic, theology, Hadith, Koranic exegesis, and law. The students paid no fees, the teachers received no salaries. Dependent upon governmental subsidy and private philanthropy, the famous university tended to ever more zealous orthodoxy, and its directing ulemas or learned men had a discouraging effect upon Fatimid literature, philosophy, and science. We hear of no great poets under this dynasty.

  Al-Hakim set up in Cairo a Dar al-Hikmah (“Hall of Wisdom”); its main function was to teach Ismaili Shi’ite theology; but its curriculum included astronomy and medicine. Al-Hakim financed an observatory, and helped Ali ibn Yunus (d. 1009), perhaps the greatest of Moslem astronomers. After seventeen years of observations Yunus completed the “Hakimite tables” of astral movements and periods, and gave more precise values than before to the inclination of the ecliptic, the precession of the equinoxes, and solar parallax.

 
The brightest name in Moslem Egyptian science is that of Muhammad ibn al-Haitham, known to medieval Europe as Alhazen. Born at Basra in 965, he won repute there as a mathematician and engineer. Hearing that al-Haitham had a plan for regulating the annual inundation of the Nile, al-Hakim invited him to Cairo. The plan proved impracticable, and al-Haitham had to hide in obscurity from the incalculable Caliph. Fascinated, like all medieval thinkers, by Aristotle’s attempt to formulate a rational synthesis of knowledge, he composed several commentaries on the works of the philosopher; none of these commentaries has reached us. We know al-Haitham chiefly by his Kitab al-Manazir, or Book of Optics; of all medieval productions this is probably the most thoroughly scientific in its method and thought. Al-Haitham studied the refraction of light through transparent mediums like air and water, and came so close to discovering the magnifying lens that Roger Bacon, Witelo, and other Europeans three centuries later based upon his work their own advances toward the microscope and the telescope. He rejected the theory of Euclid and Ptolemy that vision results from a ray leaving the eye and reaching the object; rather “the form of the perceived object passes into the eye, and is transmitted there by the transparent body”—the lens.21 He remarked the effect of the atmosphere in increasing the apparent size of sun or moon when near the horizon; showed that through atmospheric refraction the light of the sun reaches us even when the sun is as much as nineteen degrees below the horizon; and on this basis he calculated the height of the atmosphere at ten (English) miles. He analyzed the correlation between the weight and the density of the atmosphere, and the effect of atmospheric density upon the weight of objects. He studied with complex mathematical formulas the action of light on spherical or parabolic mirrors, and through the burning glass. He observed the half-moon shape of the sun’s image, during eclipses, on the wall opposite a small hole made in the window shutters; this is the first known mention of the camera obscura, or dark chamber, on which all photography depends. We could hardly exaggerate the influence of al-Haitham on European science. Without him Roger Bacon might never have been heard of; Bacon quotes him or refers to him at almost every step in that part of the Opus maius which deals with optics; and Part VI rests almost entirely on the findings of the Cairene physicist. As late as Kepler and Leonardo European studies of light were based upon al-Haitham’s work.