A History of the Muslim World to 1405: The Making of a Civilization

by Vernon O Egger

  The Isma‘ili (Sevener) and Imami (Twelver) Shi‘a

  In 1130, the Fatimid movement suffered another blow. In that year the Fatimid caliph al-Amir was murdered, and yet another schism developed that would have a lasting impact. A cousin of the murdered caliph claimed the throne under the name al-Hafiz, and he was accepted by the Fatimid faithful in Egypt and Syria. In Yemen, however, where the policies of the Fatimid wazir al-Afdal were increasingly regarded as oppressive, many of the Musta‘lis refused to accept al-Hafiz. Under the leadership of their queen, al-Sayyida al-Hurra al-Sulayhi (1084–1138), who had upheld the claims of al-Musta‘li in 1094, the Yemenis asserted that an infant son had been born to al-Amir shortly before the caliph’s murder, and that the infant, named al-Tayyib, was the legitimate ruler.

  Because al-Tayyib never appeared in public in Yemen, his followers, the Tayyibis, claimed that he had gone into concealment. They asserted that the Imamate passed from him to his son, then from father to son thereafter. In the meantime, during the concealment, his guidance is administered through the da‘i mutlaq (literally, “chief missionary”). The Tayyibi Isma‘ilis, who seemed insignificant at the time compared to the center of the Fatimid movement in Cairo, outlasted the Fatimids. The latter group disappeared after Saladin seized control of Egypt in 1171, whereas the Tayyibis continued to thrive. The Tayyibi community in Yemen remained strong for several centuries, and over the years many of them migrated to Gujarat, where they became wealthy by virtue of their involvement in international trade.

  The widely scattered Nizari Isma‘ili state of the Assassins lasted from 1094 until 1273, when its last remnants were destroyed through the combined efforts of the Mongol conqueror Hulagu and the Mamluke leader Baybars. Although the Nizaris established their fortresses in remote, rustic areas, they cultivated a remarkably sophisticated intellectual life. Alamut, in particular, had become famous for its research library, and its leadership encouraged non-Isma‘ili Muslim scholars to study there. The fall of Alamut to Hulagu and the subsequent murder of the Imam was a stunning blow to the Nizari community. Most of its members came to believe that the Imam’s son had been hidden for safekeeping, and for the next two centuries Nizaris and their Imams lived secretively under the Mongols and successor dynasties. Discovering the Sufi relationship of master and pupil to be a useful cover for their own hierarchical structure, they pretended to be adherents of one Sufi brotherhood or the other. Because of continuing persecution, however, many Nizaris gradually migrated to South Asia. Thus, by the end of the thirteenth century, the two main surviving groups of Isma‘ilis were the Nizaris and the Tayyibis, and both were gravitating toward the western coast of India.

  The Impact of “The Foreign Sciences” and Jurisprudence

  Shi‘ism was profoundly influenced by the new intellectual currents of the ninth and tenth centuries. By the early tenth century, the Isma‘ilis were incorporating Neoplatonism into their thought, enabling them to conceptualize the distinction between the exoteric (zahir) and esoteric (batin) features of the scriptures and of Isma‘ili doctrines. This distinction allowed the leadership to justify their position as a spiritual elite who had a monopoly on the knowledge of the deep spiritual truths essential to salvation. The masses needed the Imam and the hierarchy of teachers that he installed in order to provide the allegorical interpretation of the scriptures and of Isma‘ili literature which came to be the distinctive feature of Isma‘ilism. The Fatimids backed away from this extreme position, however. By the time they had secured their position in Egypt, they insisted on the equal importance of the exoteric and the esoteric, and they were more careful than the Carmathians and their own descendants, the early Nizaris, to insist on the fulfillment of the requirements of the Shari‘a.

  Isma‘ili and Twelver Shi‘ite intellectual life took somewhat different directions from that of the Sunni community because of the centrality of the Imam in their doctrine. Philosophy and gnostic thought, under a cloud in the Sunni community, flourished among both of the main Shi‘ite groups. Of the two communities, the Isma‘ilis were the more attracted to complex cosmological doctrines adapted from Neoplatonism and even Indian philosophical systems. On the other hand, commentaries on the Qur’an are absent from Isma‘ili literature of the period, for the Imam was the ever-present interpreter. The Fatimid Imam was often referred to as the “speaking Qur’an,” whereas the book was known as the “silent Qur’an.” Commentaries on the Qur’an were also rare within the Imami community until the doctrine of the Hidden Imam became firmly established. When the Imam was no longer present to interpret the scriptures, however, a demand arose for them.

  The Imamis/Twelvers began as a Hadith-based movement, but they made a wrenching change to a rationalist one. Whereas the early Imamis agreed with Sunnis that the Hadith were a second source of law along with the Qur’an, they had quite different criteria for judging the authenticity of Hadith. Because of their hostility toward the first three caliphs and their supporters, as a rule they accepted only those Hadith that had been transmitted through a descendant of Husayn. The major center for Hadith collection and analysis in the ninth century was Qum. The scholars there refused to accept consensus and analogical reasoning as secondary sources of the law. They also espoused a view of God that was as anthropomorphic as that of the conservative Sunni Ibn Hanbal, and they were as convinced as he was that the fate of individual humans was determined in advance by God. Many also insisted that the Qur’an had been tampered with; otherwise, they said, it would be clear how central the career of ‘Ali and his family was meant to have been.

  Under the Buyids, Twelver scholars soon found a welcome home in Baghdad. In that cosmopolitan capital, a Twelver rationalist school of thought arose that challenged the traditionalism of Qum. It was in Baghdad that Mu‘tazilism made its comeback. Although the Imamis and the Mu‘tazilites had been associated together during the reign of the Abbasid caliph al-Ma’mun because of his patronage of both groups, their actual linkage was not firmly established until the early eleventh century. By that time, Mu‘tazilism had become thoroughly discredited within Sunnism because of the ascendancy of Ash‘arism, but Twelver scholars in Baghdad began to adopt it. Under Mu‘tazilite influence, the anthropomorphic elements of the Qur’an began to be interpreted allegorically, humans were declared to be responsible for their own actions, and reason was accorded an important role in the development of theology. The Qur’an in its existing text was recognized as legitimate, albeit in need of esoteric interpretation.

  Several eleventh-century Twelver scholars argued that the fundamental truths of religion are derived in the first instance from reason alone, and it is indefensible to rely exclusively upon the teaching of religious authorities for knowledge of them. They clearly took Twelver Shi‘ism beyond the Sunni consensus that reason is to be used to defend and justify doctrine. They also made no attempt to disguise their contempt for the anthropomorphism and predestinarianism of the scholars of Qum, and they ridiculed their reliance on Hadith, claiming that the traditions were full of obvious forgeries. Later scholars recognized the importance of selected Hadith, but the victory of the rationalist school was so complete in the eleventh century that the Hadith scholars had to wait until the seventeenth century to challenge it successfully.

  In practical terms, the doctrine of the Imamate and the greater Shi‘ite regard for reason resulted in surprisingly few major differences between Shi‘ite and Sunni versions of the Shari‘a. A few differences in prescribed rituals developed. Until the twentieth century, the Friday midday service was not as important for most Twelver Sh‘ites as for the Sunnis because of the absence of the Hidden Imam, the legitimate prayer leader. Twelver legal rulings sanctioned the growing practice of visiting the shrines of Imams, and for some pilgrims these trips were as important as the hajj. The most important shrines were those of ‘Ali at Najaf and of Husayn at Karbala (both in Iraq) and of ‘Ali al-Rida at Mashhad (in northeastern Iran). Most of the significant differences in legal practice, however,
lay in provisions for marriage and inheritance. The most famous of these was the practice of temporary marriage among Twelvers: Couples can contract a marriage for a day or longer, explicitly stipulating that it is meant to be a temporary marriage. Historically, travelers have been the most likely to contract a temporary marriage, although couples initiate it for a variety of reasons.

  The Transmission of Knowledge

  The ferment of ideas in the Muslim world had major consequences for the Dar al-Islam and parts of the Dar al-Kufr alike. Within the Dar al-Islam, new institutions emerged in order to preserve and transmit to future generations the knowledge that was becoming the cultural legacy of a new civilization. In the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, Europeans engaged in a massive effort to transmit the achievements of Islamic civilization to the Latin Christian civilization.

  Schools

  As a community based on scriptures, Islamic society had always valued education. Study was regarded not merely as an intellectual endeavor, but also as an act of piety and worship. In the earliest period of the Umma in Medina, the Prophet’s compound served as his home, the communal place for prayers, and a site for religious, moral, and legal instruction. In later years, as Muslims erected mosques in the new territories that they conquered, the mosque remained the primary locus for religious instruction. Teachers would occasionally offer instruction in their homes to eager pupils, but the mosque, as the community center, offered the advantage of a large space, a central location, and the appropriately spiritual atmosphere. Mosques were usually the location where one could find the local kuttab or maktab (a school for Qur’anic instruction) and, for advanced students, courses in Hadith and grammar.

  As cities grew, a distinction arose between the small, neighborhood mosques and the large, official mosques to which much of the populace and the ruling elite would repair for the main Friday noon service. The term for a mosque in general is masjid, from the Arabic root, s-j-d, meaning to prostrate oneself (in prayer, in this case). Most mosques are referred to by that word, but an officially designated central mosque is called a jami‘, which suggests a place where a large group gathers. It is sometimes referred to as a congregational mosque, to distinguish it from the masjid, which can be quite small. The imam of a congregational mosque delivered the weekly sermon and invoked the name of the ruler and caliph, acknowledging his legitimacy. A major city such as Baghdad or Damascus had a handful of congregational mosques (although Cairo had more) and hundreds of regular masjids.

  Instruction could take place in masjids, but the congregational mosques naturally assumed the most prominent role in education beyond the level offered by the kuttab. In some cases, the government appointed teachers to posts in the congregational mosques. Many teachers, however, were beneficiaries of the largesse of wealthy patrons, while others relied upon the income from the tuition they charged their students. Students from out of town usually lived in a hostel, often called a khan, and might be the fortunate recipients of a stipend provided by a benefactor who had set up a religious endowment (waqf) for that purpose. Although the Shari‘a prescribed how a person’s estate should be allocated to his or her heirs, it allowed people to designate part or all of their estate to be a waqf. By setting aside part of one’s estate as a waqf that would result in the construction and maintenance of a public service such as a mosque or khan, a person was gaining favor with God and prestige for his family within the community.

  By the tenth century, a new type of school emerged in Khorasan that offered advantages over the mosque-school model. Perhaps originally of Buddhist origin in Central Asia, in the Islamic world it came to be called the madrasa. In essence, it was a boarding school that combined teaching halls with a prayer hall and living quarters for the students, visiting scholars, and perhaps for the professor. The madrasa achieved widespread dissemination throughout the Islamic world in the second half of the eleventh century, when the Saljuq vizier Nizam al-Mulk established his Nizamiya madrasa in Baghdad and then provided the patronage for several others throughout the Saljuq realms. The institution eventually made its way across North Africa and into Andalus.

  The madrasa never displaced the mosque as an educational institution. In fact, Muslims were never precise in distinguishing between the two, because education and worship took place in both. (Even the Sufi khanaqa, as a center of formal learning, was occasionally referred to as a madrasa.) Like the mosque, the madrasa was not a government-sponsored school. All madrasas were the result of personal patronage. Wealthy individuals would either provide a grant during their lifetime or leave a bequest stipulating that after their death the funds be applied toward the construction of a madrasa. A madrasa might enroll as few as ten students or as many as several hundred. The young scholars often received tuition scholarships. Sometimes they enjoyed stipends, as well, but more often than not they had to pay for room and board.

  Students did not seek out madrasas or mosques on the basis of an institution’s reputation. Instead, students sought out individual scholars under whose tutelage they wished to study. Madrasas and mosque schools were not characterized by a formal curriculum and did not offer an institutional degree. Most schools had a single lecturer, but several scholars were available on and off campus for private study. Students came to a school not to master a given curriculum, but to deepen their mastery of a certain field of study by working closely with a prominent scholar in the field. Some students might choose to focus on Arabic grammar and would therefore explore grammar, philology, and literature. Others might focus on Qur’anic exegesis, in which case they would also mine the most influential commentaries on the Qur’an, as well as become experts in Arabic grammar. Others might focus on mastering the field of Hadith studies, in which case they would study the various collections of Hadith and the biographies of the transmitters of Hadith.

  The Buyuk Karatay madrasa in Konya, constructed by the Saljuqs of Rum.

  The “foreign sciences” (science and philosophy) were not usually found in madrasas or mosques, although many of their libraries provided interested students access to the Greek legacy, and a few professors actually taught them in courses that were listed under the rubric of Hadith or grammar. Usually, however, the scholars who were proficient in any of the sciences or philosophy held positions as advisors, astrologers, or physicians at the courts of the rulers in the Dar al-Islam. Students who wished to learn science or philosophy usually had to seek out a scholar in the privacy of his home. The disadvantage of this system was that science and philosophy had no institutional structures within which they could develop. The critique of one’s ideas and the sharing of knowledge that a community of scholars can provide were limited by the need to travel to visit other, like-minded, scholars, or by sending manuscripts by courier to scholars at a distance. Philosophers, in particular, were vulnerable to politically influential critics and to the whims of patrons. By the late twelfth century (the period of Ibn Rushd), the practitioners of philosophy encountered greater difficulties in their work. Religious authorities and pious scholars were relentless in their insistence on the limitations, and the dangers, of knowledge that was not intended solely for the glorification of God.

  Students who engaged in advanced studies in mosques and madrasas were all respected for their knowledge of the religious sciences, but it is probably fair to say that the “stars” of the religious colleges were those who were engaged in the study of the Shari‘a. They typically learned the subjects noted earlier, since they were prerequisites for the study of the law. They also studied the sources and methodology of the law, the body of decisions arrived at in one’s own school of law, differences of opinion within one’s own school of law and between one’s school and the other schools, and jadal, or dialectic, the mode of argument that in western Europe became the heart of Scholasticism.

  The typical classroom activity in learning the law involved the raising of a question—real or hypothetical—by one person (often the professor) and the reasoned response to it by another, us
ing precedent and logic. Then, another student would attempt to rebut the reply, resulting in a “disputation.” The goal of this method was to produce legal scholars who were masters of massive amounts of facts and who could organize the material into a logical manner consistent with the spirit of the Qur’an and Hadith. This practical activity, however, often carried over into public. Since there was no Pulitzer Prize or National Book Award in those days to recognize intellectual achievement, many of the legal experts felt the need to put their hard-won skills on display. Like two swordsmen, it was not uncommon to see two scholars debating a point in an arranged public debate, each trying to bolster his reputation by defeating the other in argument.

  Islamic education was based on the relationship between the student and the teacher. The students sought a license from an individual scholar, not the institution. A student might develop his skills by spending a few months with a teacher and then move on to another, or he might spend as long as twenty years with a particular scholar. When a teacher was convinced that his student had mastered the books he was studying, he granted him an ijaza, or imprimatur—a written statement certifying that he had placed his stamp of approval on the student. Thus, the former student had established his link in the chain of authorities stretching back to the Prophet that authenticated the texts at the core of Islam. He could go on to study with other scholars, or he could attract younger ones to himself on the basis of the seal of approval that he had gained. The silsila, or chain of authorities, was as important in the certification of scholars as it was in Sufism and the authentication of Hadith.