A Concise History of Sunnis and Shi'is

by John McHugo

  VI

  Right from the start, there was a self-conscious grandeur to the new dynasty. After Abu al-‘Abbas had taken the regnal name Saffah, all subsequent Abbasid caliphs adopted this practice of a regnal name. At first the dynasty was in a precarious position, but it wisely preached reconciliation and accepted homage from those who had fought against it. The one exception to this rule was the Umayyad family itself. Its leading members were ruthlessly hunted down and killed. Only one prince escaped. Abdurrahman bin Mu‘awiya, a grandson of the Caliph Hisham, managed to reach Spain where he set up a principality which would one day declare itself a separate caliphate.

  Saffah died in 754, only four years after his installation as caliph. During that brief period, Abbasid power was consolidated – at least on the surface – but there were portents of things to come in the discord that broke out on his death. He chose his brother Mansour to succeed him, but Mansour faced competition from his uncle Abdallah bin Ali, a strong military leader who had played an important role in the overthrow of the Umayyads. Mansour wisely turned to Abu Muslim to lead his armies against his uncle. Then, when Abu Muslim had been victorious, Mansour showed his ruthless side by inviting him to his tent, where he had him murdered. He also faced a challenge a few years later in 762, when a descendant of Ali through Hasan, known to history as Muhammad the Pure Soul, was proclaimed as caliph by members of the House of Hashim in Medina. The rebellion was crushed without too much difficulty, not least because influential members of the family of Ali, including its head, Ja‘far al-Sadiq, refused to support it.

  Mansour is one of the most famous of the Abbasid caliphs. His thirty-year reign began what we think of as the golden age of Abbasid civilisation. The centre of gravity of the empire shifted from Syria to Iraq. He built his new capital at Baghdad on the river Tigris, near the point where it and the Euphrates begin to run close together in the rich and fertile agricultural plain called the Sawad. It was also very close to Ctesiphon, which had been the capital of the Persian Empire until the Islamic conquest. Although the caliphs and the elite would always remain very proud of their Arab lineage and genealogy – to display one’s Arab ancestry would be an important branch of learning under the Abbasids – this was the period when the empire ceased to be an ethnically ‘Arab’ enterprise. Instead, it became a genuinely Muslim one.4

  Arabic was the language of the court, religion, the administration and high culture, but many important figures in the bureaucracy and among the religious scholars came from the Iranian plateau or areas further east. Much of the army came from the now important province of Khorasan, where the rebellion that had brought the Abbasids to power had first gathered steam. Many of those who wrote in Arabic spoke Persian, Syriac or another language as their mother tongue. A strong Persian cultural element infused itself into Abbasid life, as did ancient scientific and philosophical ideas originally developed by the Greeks. Although non-Muslims continued to flourish, much of the empire’s elite consisted of converts or those whose fathers or grandfathers had converted. For instance, the famous Barmakid family had originally been Buddhist priests in Balkh, while the descendants of Hunayn bin Ishaq, the leading Christian translator of philosophical and scientific texts into Arabic from Greek and Syriac in the ninth century, also became Muslims.

  The empire had internal tensions that one day would bring it to its knees. The old squabbling continued over whether provincial revenues should remain in the province where they were collected or be forwarded to the caliph, and this was a repeated source of friction. The empire was now moving from the model of a state permanently expanding its borders by conquest, in which booty from campaigning was the main source of financing the army, to one in which the army was paid for by taxation from agricultural estates. Tax collection and the use of the revenues became increasingly complex, leading to the growth of a powerful bureaucratic class on which the empire depended because the revenues were needed to pay the military. Unsurprisingly, the bureaucrats and the military had competing interests and were all too likely to clash.

  Mansour died leaving a full treasury and an empire that appeared stable. He was succeeded by his son Muhammad Mahdi, who ruled for ten years to 785. He tried to crush the idea that the caliph should be a descendant of Ali and Fatima by asserting that the Prophet had designated his uncle Abbas, not Ali, as his successor.5 Needless to say, this attempt did not succeed. During his reign there was an uprising in favour of al-Husayn bin Ali, a descendant of Hasan. Although it got nowhere, and al-Husayn bin Ali was killed, two brothers of Muhammad the Pure Soul escaped from custody. One of these, Idris bin Abdullah, succeeded in reaching the Maghreb and establishing an independent dynasty among the Walila Berber confederation in what is now Morocco.

  After Mahdi’s death, his son al-Hadi died only a year after ascending the throne. He was followed by the famous Harun al-Rashid, who lived until 809. By the end of his reign, many of the features of the new caliphate had been firmly established. Later, in less happy times, these years would be remembered through rose-tinted spectacles as an age of stability and relative prosperity. This was exemplified in the gilded memories of the era of Harun al-Rashid, which the Arabian Nights have made part of a worldwide folklore.

  The traditions of the Abbasid Caliphate at its highpoint included the resumption of the annual campaign against the Byzantines. These expeditions were more raids carried out by a large army than anything else, because the Byzantines had successfully reorganised themselves after the loss of Greater Syria, Egypt and their other possessions along the north African coast. The days when Muslim armies could conquer large and significant Byzantine territories were long since past. Nevertheless, the caliph mounting his horse to lead his army in person against the infidel Christians, or solemnly appointing a brother or son to do so on his behalf at the start of the campaigning season every year, was highly symbolic. It provided a useful way of demonstrating his leadership of the Muslim community. Another such demonstration was the caliph’s active involvement in the annual pilgrimage of the Hajj. This too he would sometimes lead in person – although Harun al-Rashid was the last caliph ever to make the Hajj – or would at least nominate a close family member to lead in his place. At the same time, the spiritual role of Jerusalem was acknowledged, and caliphs made visits to the city whenever they had the opportunity.

  In Baghdad, the caliphs tried to surround themselves with religious scholars and to coax them into becoming judges and accepting official positions. At first this had proved difficult, but was becoming common by the time of Harun al-Rashid. A much greater emphasis was placed on court ceremonial than under the Umayyads, a change that reflected the influence of Sasanian ideas of monarchy that had deep roots in Persian culture. These blended seamlessly with the caliph’s role as the leader of the Muslims and of the Prophet’s own family, as well as his position as guardian of the rituals of the faith and the application of the Sharia. These were roles that the Umayyads had, in general, emphasised to a lesser extent. These changes enhanced the way in which the caliph saw himself, and in the way that he was now viewed. He was firmly placed on a pedestal that separated him from those he ruled. Access to him came to be carefully controlled by the chamberlain or hajib (literally, ‘the veiler’, or ‘screener’). The simple majlis of the Arabs, in which a leader would sit and give access to all his followers so that they could talk directly to him – or, indeed, challenge him in front of all present– was now a distant memory.

  During Harun al-Rashid’s reign there were rebellions in outlying regions of the empire, especially in the Iranian east. Sometimes, these took on a religious dimension and were led by Kharijis or advocates of the rule of a member of the house of Ali. These were generally local affairs, and were all crushed, but when he died in 809 the empire descended into civil war between his sons Amin and Ma‘moun. He had written a will that imposed a kind of compromise on them both. He had designated Amin as his successor, but decreed that Ma‘moun would be Amin’s heir apparent and the governo
r or even semi-independent ruler of the key province of Khorasan. But this strategy did not succeed, and the agreement broke down. Forces loyal to Amin attempted to invade Khorasan. In response, Ma‘moun also proclaimed himself caliph and Amin’s authority soon disintegrated. After a siege of Baghdad that lasted over a year, Amin was captured and killed.

  Now that he was in control, Ma‘moun tried to implement two radical policies. The first was to try to rule the entire empire from Marv in Khorasan, where his powerbase was situated, rather than setting himself up in Baghdad in the manner of the earlier Abbasids. The other was a novel plan for what was to happen when he died. He nominated Ali bin Musa al-Rida, the head of the House of Ali, to become the next caliph. Such a step had no precedent, and would have meant the fusion of the rival branches of the Prophet’s family. Ali al-Rida was considerably older than Ma‘moun, and some writers speculate whether the motives behind this appointment of a successor likely to die before him were cynical. But it does seem to have been part of Ma‘moun’s plan – albeit a short-lived one – to join the two rival branches of the family of the Prophet. He gave a daughter to Ali al-Rida in marriage, and betrothed another to Ali al-Rida’s seven-year-old son, Muhammad al-Jawad. The official flags were changed from the traditional Abbasid black to the green of Ali.

  Neither policy succeeded. From Marv, he found he was just too far away from the central provinces of the empire. He was faced with widespread fitna, or civil disorder, in many regions. There was even a strong and persistent anti-Muslim and anti-Arab revolt under a leader called Babak in Armenia and Azerbaijan, while many of the western provinces slipped away from central control. He therefore came to realise that he would have to move to Baghdad if he was to survive.

  His other policy also failed. Ali al-Rida died. As this was may have been rather convenient for Ma‘moun, there has always been speculation that he was poisoned. The colours of the empire’s official banners reverted to black, and Ma‘moun entered Baghdad in 819. It took him the first decade of his rule to re-establish control over the western provinces. One new and very effective element in his military machine, and one that helped him to achieve this, was an army of Turkish soldiers. Many of them were slaves commanded by his brother Mu‘tasim, who would succeed him as caliph. These troops became one of the three mainstays of the Abbasid army. The second was the Arab element, which was now largely confined to the steppe lands to the north of the Arabian peninsula and the all important Byzantine frontier. The final element consisted of the army from Khorasan who had originally overthrown the Umayyads, and many of whose soldiers were now stationed in Iraq.

  When Mu‘tasim became caliph in 833, he could rely on his slave army of Turks, which had made him the most powerful man in the caliphate while Ma‘moun still lived. These troops now became the dominant military force in the empire. But their presence in Baghdad led to friction and sometimes violence. It probably also occurred to Mu‘tasim that they might be seduced from their loyalty to him by the powerful families and factions of the capital. His solution was to build a new capital at Samarra, north of Baghdad, to which he and the elite of the caliphate moved. This set a distance between them and Baghdad’s troublesome populace, and the relationship between the two cities has been compared to that between Paris and Versailles during the days from Louis XIV to the French revolution. As with the Bourbons at Versailles, parades and court spectacles at Samarra reflected the caliph’s exalted status. Mu‘tasim, and his successors Wathiq and Mutawakkil, continued this splendour, and were renowned for building new palaces.

  Yet, ultimately, the move to Samarra only replaced one problem with another. Its location was unfavourable for the development of the new city as a major centre for agriculture, industry and trade. This may have been a reason behind the original decision to move there – since it meant escaping Baghdad’s troublesome populace and urban mob – but it had its downside: the caliph risked becoming a prisoner of the army, while the upkeep of the complex of palaces, mosques and barracks at Samarra was expensive. In 861, the Caliph Mutawakkil was assassinated by Turkish officers who were nervous that they were about to lose their privileges. They were in league with his son Muntasir, who feared that his father was going to remove him as his designated successor. The cold-blooded murder of an Abbasid caliph in this way broke a taboo, but it would soon become almost commonplace. Its immediate effect was an anarchic period that lasted for nine years, in which infighting between rival groups of soldiers probably reflected the decline in the revenues available to pay the army. After four brief caliphal reigns, order was restored; but by now it was clear that real power lay with the mainly Turkish soldiers.

  There was a revival under Mu‘tamid, who came to the throne in 870, during which the seat of the caliphate reverted to Baghdad from 892 onwards. The revival continued until the death of Muktafi in 908. During this period control had been re-established over the army, and central authority had been regained over the whole of Iraq, Syria, Egypt and the western and central parts of Iran. Thereafter, however, decline reasserted itself, and became unstoppable.

  The Caliph Muqtadir, who succeeded Muktafi in 908, seems to have been chosen because he was perceived as likely to be easy for his ministers to manipulate – a disastrous reason for his election. The most pressing problem was shortage of money with which to pay the army. The old system of taxation had decayed. Tax farming and what was for all practical purposes the sale of whole provinces became the only way to raise the revenues needed. Muqtadir was killed by an army leader in 932, which precipitated another period of anarchy. One by one, the outlying provinces slipped out of caliphal control and into the hands of powerful local families who were often essentially warlords. This time, the loss would be for good. Simultaneously, a combination of neglect and fighting between army factions devastated the key agricultural estates of the Sawad around Baghdad. This led to the end of the caliph’s political power.

  Some kind of change now became inevitable. The caliphate was bankrupt and could only continue on the sufferance of local warlords. This did not, however, bring it to an end. In 945, Ahmad ibn Buwayh, a warrior from the mountainous areas south of the Caspian Sea, entered Baghdad. Finding Mustakfi, the current caliph, not to his liking, he contemptuously replaced Mustakfi with his brother, Muti‘. The new caliph, and the institution of the caliphate itself, had effectively become a client of a military strongman. But Ahmad ibn Buwayh preserved the institution, because it was a useful source of legitimacy for his own rule. Although the Abbasid Caliphate would survive for more than two hundred years, it would never regain political control over the empire that the first caliphs had gained for Islam and which the Umayyads had expanded. Ahmad ibn Buwayh’s dynasty, known as the Buyids, were ethnically Persian and proud of it. They came from the Alborz mountains, south-west of the Caspian Sea. Ahmad ruled as part of a confederation, since his brothers had already established themselves as rulers on the Iranian plateau in the cities of Shiraz and Rayy (close to modern Tehran). The family even began trying to set up their empire according to ancient, pre-Islamic Persian models of kingship. If this seemed like an insult to the Abbasid Caliphate, we will see in the next chapter how the Buyids would also insult the caliphs in a far greater way.

  VII

  Turning aside from the political history, two divergent approaches were emerging during these first two Abbasid centuries as to how Muslims should discern the teachings of Islam. For many, the obvious way to do this was to listen to what Muhammad’s Companions could tell them about the way the Prophet had wished Muslims to live their lives. As the Companions aged and died, attention became focused on the recollections of the next generation – the ‘followers’ of the Companions: those who had known the men and women who had walked with the Prophet and could recall things they had passed on about his teaching. The same applied as that generation aged in its turn, and people listened to the memories of ‘the followers of the followers’. These first three generations of Muslims became known collectively as the �
��righteous ancestors’, al-salaf al-salih, and the generations after them would treasure and spread the recollections of the Prophet’s life that they transmitted. After the text of the Qur’an, the recollections attributed to al-salaf al-salih would be used to constitute the core of the material that made up the Sharia as it was lived by those Muslims who would come to be called Sunnis.

  But other Muslims followed an alternative way to discern how to live their Islam. This was to look on the Prophet’s family as the source of guidance for his teachings. His descendants were seen not only as the great exemplars of how Muslims should perform their devotions and behave in their daily lives, but were believed to be endowed with a special form of knowledge of the true meaning of the religion and the way it should be lived. These were the ancestors of those we now think of as Shi‘is.

  Although in due course there would be powerful states established on the basis of a Shi‘i doctrine, we have seen how political support for rule by a member of the House of Ali and Fatima was invariably crushed during the first centuries of Islam. This began with the passing over of Ali in favour of Uthman, was followed by Mu‘awiya’s triumph after Ali’s assassination, the poignant story of Hussein, and the numerous rebellions in favour of a descendant of Ali during the Umayyad period and the first two Abbasid centuries (only some of these rebellions have been mentioned above). This meant that the Shi‘is – or perhaps we should say proto-Shi‘is – had a very different view of most of the Prophet’s Companions, since they had opposed Ali or at least colluded with those who opposed him. This also meant that, for them, these Companions were not suitable people to transmit the practice of the Prophet, no matter how close they may have been to him while he was alive. For Shi‘is, the sad truth was that most of al-salaf al-salih, the so-called ‘righteous ancestors’ of the Sunnis, had betrayed his memory. At the same time, it will have been noted that not all members of the House of Ali necessarily believed in political action or the use of violence to wrest the caliphate from the Abbasids or their predecessors, the Umayyads. The example of the quietism (acceptance of the status quo) shown by Ja‘far al-Sadiq when he turned down the offer to proclaim him caliph is instructive on this point.