Saladin

by A R Azzam

  to pin down the Muslim forces in northern Syria, and this, in the long term,

  would have a profound and devastating impact on the Latin Kingdom of

  Jerusalem. Europe was shocked by the news of the fall of Edessa, and

  though a second crusade was sent to recapture Edessa, quicldy the crusaders

  realised that there was no Edessa to recover. With Aleppo and Edessa now

  firmly in his grip and with Mosul under his brother's control, Nur al-Din

  turned his eyes, like his father had done, towards Damascus, the most

  important city in Syria. In the meantime the rulers of Damascus had taken

  the opportunity of Zengi's death to move against Baalbek and they laid

  siege to the city. And so Ayyub, a few years earlier the besieger, was now the

  besieged. At first he held out and sent urgent requests to the sons of Zengi

  to come to his aid, but Nur al-Din was busy razing Edessa and Saif al-Din

  was occupied in Mosul, so no aid arrived. The massacre that Zengi had

  ordered in Baalbek now played on Ayyub's mind. He may not have pos-

  sessed Zengi's military genius but in matters of diplomacy Ayyub outshone

  him. He could choose to defend the citadel to the bitter end, but that

  would mean that a lot of lives would be lost and the citadel would ultimately

  fall. There was honour in negotiating a settlement so, in 1146, Ayyub

  agreed to hand over Baalbek with no bloodshed in return for ten villages

  and a house in Damascus, to where he now moved. In fact such was Ayyub's

  reputation for probity that he was kept as castellan of the citadel of Baalbek,

  and for the next few years, accompanied by the young Saladin, he travelled

  between the two cities.

  • 29 •

  SALADIN

  Over the years the traditional mantra invoked by the historians of the

  counter-crusade has been a familiar one: Zengi - Nur ai-Din - Saladin; a

  sort of Islamic triple jump which regained Jerusalem. And yet if the counter-

  crusade is to be viewed as the political manifestation in Syria of the Sunni

  Revival then the validity of this triumvirate needs to be called into question.

  To understand why this is the case we need to return briefly to Nizam ul-

  Mulk's Baghdad. As we have seen, Nizam ul-Mulk's policies were driven by

  a strildng vision, which was the restoration of a strong centralised Islamic

  state endowed with a moral character. Although he failed to implement

  this vision, since the forces of fragmentation were too advanced, he pursued

  several attempts at socio-political organisation, some of which succeeded in

  unexpected ways, even though they took two centuries to unfold.^^ Of these

  policies, the one that would have the most impact on Saladin was the

  creation and propagation of the madrasas, which would gradually evolve to

  become one of the most important institutions of Islamic civilisation.^®

  Definitions are important here. Although today the word madrasa simply

  translates as school, the original meaning was different. Usually translated as

  college, the madrasa was an educational institution specifically created to

  teach Islamic law (fiqh) according to one of the four Sunni schools. Other

  topics could be taught at a madrasa, but there could be no madrasa without

  law. Law could be, and was, taught at a mosque, but a mosque was not a

  madrasa since its principle function was not to teach fiqh. The universal

  association of the name of Nizam ul-Mulk with the madrasas - all of which

  were called Nizamiyya - which he had constructed first in Baghdad in 1067

  then in most of the major cities, assumes the fact that madrasas originated

  with him. In fact they pre-dated him^' and historians have argued that ori-

  ginally madrasas were simply natural extensions of the mosque.^" No matter,

  the early madrasas were very much private in character and the teaching was

  both independent and personal.

  With the arrival of Nizam ul-Mulk everything changed. In the words of

  Tabbaa, he pulled an important religious institution out of its vernacular

  beginnings, recreated it in an imperial image and in the capital city, and

  duplicated it on the major cities of the realm.'^ Although Nizam ul-Mulk's

  actions can be seen simply as those of an individual promoting his own

  madhab - for he was a Shafii and the Nizamiyya madrasas only taught

  Shafii law - to limit those actions to the personal or private sphere would be

  seriously to underestimate his vision of endowing the empire with a moral

  . 30 •

  2: T H E T U R N I N G OF T H E T I D E

  framework. The sheer scale of the number constructed and their location

  tends to point to the unfolding of a blueprint which reflected his politics

  and ideology. As Tabaa points out, they may not have been state institu-

  tions, but the madrasas of Nizam ul-Mulk were definitely institutions for the

  state. In Baghdad, but also in Merv, Balldi, Nishapur, Tus, Rayy, Isfahan

  and many other cities, large and small, madrasas sprouted. The strategic

  locations were carefully selected within the realm so that each madrasa was

  used as a provincial centre with a wide catchment area embracing the smaller

  towns and villages. The historian Ibn al-Athir noted that no place was

  devoid of them; even Jazirat Ibn Umar - his native city - which he admitted

  was a forsaken corner, possessed one. Large madrasas but also small ones

  crammed into the corners and alleyways of densely populated cities.

  The earliest example of a madrasa which has survived is the madrasa of

  Gumushtegin in Busra in Syria, which bears the date of 1136. One is struck

  by how small it is in size; its external dimensions do not exceed 20 x 17

  metres (65 x 55 feet), which meant that it could scarcely accommodate a

  handfial of students. In that sense the Nizamiyya madrasas were the exception

  rather than the norm; for the majority of madrasas, small was beautiful.'

  But why were they built? Why did Nizam ul-Mulk devote so much time

  and money commissioning a whole network across the Islamic world? The

  accepted reason was to combat the threat of Shiism and in particular the

  Fatimids in Egypt, who were actively propagating their message through

  their centres of learning, of which al-Azhar in Cairo was the most famous.

  And so madrasas were born as a reaction to Shiism. And yet the longevity

  and spread of the madrasas cannot simply be attributed to an anti-Shiite

  reaction since such an argument assumes a social and religious homogene-

  ity in the Muslim world which simply did not exist. In reality, the social

  milieu of Baghdad when the Nizamiyya was founded in 1067 was not that

  of Alexandria, Damascus or Konya when the first colleges appeared in the

  first part of the twelfth century. When Nizam ul-Mulk constructed his first

  madrasa in Baghdad in 1067 the threat of Shiism, both politically and ideo-

  logically, was imminent and real; however, by the time Saladin constructed

  his first madrasa in Egypt, a century later, any threat had been more or

  less extinguished. Thus if the construction of madrasas was simply due to

  anti-Shiism, then it appears that madrasas were being built to counter a

  heretical threat that simply did not exist. So we return to Nizam ul-Mulk to

  discover other
reasons for the rapid spread of madrasas. In his treatise on

  • 31 •

  SALADIN

  government - the Siya-saname - he makes it clear that he sought to create

  a loyal cadre of Sunni administrators to man the bureaucracy. Previously

  what was most strildng about those who manned the bureaucracies was

  that a large number were Christian or Shiite; in addition, many continued

  to admire the pre-Islamic models of the secretarial culture which they inher-

  ited, resulting in bureaucracies which adhered more to Persian Sasanian

  traditions than to the Islamic values which Nizam ul-Mulk was eager to pro-

  mote. In the words of Humphreys, the clerical class had often been Shiite,

  Sasonophile and scandalously lax about religious matters.'^ This led to a

  courtly outiook which was often at ftindamental variance with that of the

  ulama.^'' Al-Jahiz, for example, the famous essayist, attacked the arrogance

  of the secretaries and their sympathies toward Iranian traditions, and

  accused them of manifesting an indifference toward Islam. Nizam ul-Mulk

  was well aware of this, so gradually the majority of officials who came to

  fill both administrative and religious positions were orthodox in rite and

  madrasa-trained.'®

  Whether this was the initial aim of madrasas is unclear, but that it became

  its most enduring result there can be no doubt. Men who were educated in

  madrasas not only became religious ftinctionaries but frequentiy became

  judges, ministers and government bureaucrats of all types.'® Effectively

  they became incorporated within the framework of the government. What

  gradually emerged was the increasing necessity for a madrasa training for a

  position in government. In short, a madrasa education became a 'stamp' of

  approval signifying a knowledgeable Sunni potential secretary administrator.

  The madrasas transformed the nature of the ulama. Whereas during the first

  centuries of Islam the overwhelming majority of scholars of religion were

  part-time ulama who were employed in secular professions, the introduction

  of madrasas changed this dramatically. From simple teachers the professors

  of the madrasas became influential beyond their fields of study. They were

  consulted over all matters and not simply on those of abstract law, and

  they played a large part in setting the intellectual tone far beyond the mere

  transmission of hadith and fiqh.'^ Political issues of great importance were

  presented to them and their opinion and advice was eagerly sought.'® And

  since religious and administrative officials were drawn from the same

  sources, it was not unusual to find a qadi and an administrator coming from

  the same family. One should add that the relationship between the rulers

  and the ulama was not one in which the ulama entered without ambiguity.

  • 32 •

  2: T H E T U R N I N G OF T H E T I D E

  for fear of worldly corruption.'' On one famous occasion, some ulama,

  on hearing of the erection of a madrasa in Baghdad, staged a mock funeral

  for knowledge, as they believed that true knowledge could not survive the

  passing of money.

  Nothing symbolised the emergence in Syria of the vibrant Sunni ortho-

  doxy more than the establishment of madrasas, which were an immediate

  and visible affirmation and tool of this orthodoxy. One can go as far as to

  say that it was incumbent upon anyone wishing to champion this revived

  orthodoxy to build a madrasa as a public manifestation of their adherence

  to its tenets and a private reflection of their piety. Therein lies the difference

  between Zengi and Nur al-Din and Saladin. Despite retrospective attempts

  by Muslim historians - most notably the pro-Zengid Ibn al-Athir - to por-

  tray Zengi as a Muslim hero and as the champion of the counter-crusade, it

  is clear that he was litde more than an opportunistic and ruthless military

  warlord. To his end he remained loyal to his birthplace, Mosul, and his

  thinking - in particular his suspicion about Aleppo - was typical of a feudal

  ruler of the period. Mosul was Zengi's city and for 18 years, between 1126

  and 1144, he ruled it and Aleppo, and yet he built no madrasas in either

  city. The only building activity to have been undertaken in Mosul during his

  period was the strengthening of Mosul's wall, the opening of the Imadi gate

  in 1133 and the extension of his diwan. Although Mosul had one madrasa

  - a Nizamiyya - which had been built at the end of the eleventh century,

  the city was not to see another college until the middle of the twelfth

  century. Many small mosques and shrines existed but they were largely

  insignificant and no ulama were connected to them. The question must be

  asked: if Zengi was the champion of the Islamic resurgence and Mosul its

  centre, why was Mosul so devoid of madrasas!' It was only aft:er Zengi's

  death that we first see the signs of the Sunni Revival reaching Mosul.

  Austere and ascetic by nature, Zengi's son Nur al-Din was described by

  Ibn al-Athir as a tall swarthy man with a beard but no moustache, a fine

  forehead and a pleasant appearance enhanced by beautiful, melting eyes.

  The traveller Ibn Jubayr wrote that he was one of the 'ascetic Icings' and

  noted that he never wore silk, gold or silver. Indeed in later life he changed

  his grand clothing for the rough garments of the sufi. Deeply pious, he was

  an avid collector of religious books, and a biographical note by Ibn Asaldr,

  who was a contemporary, noted his willingness to pay high prices to acquire

  books on hadith.^^ Of all the rulers, including Saladin, Nur al-Din endowed

  • 33 •

  SALADIN

  the largest number of religious institutions in Syria, and it was under him

  that we see the beginnings of an alliance between the religious classes

  emerging from the madrasas and the military leadership. His religious pol-

  itics were largely inspired by Ibn Hubayra, tlie influential Hanbalite jurist

  and vizier under the two Abbasid caliphs al-Muqtafi and al-Mustanjid. Ibn

  Hubayra's Kitab al-Ifsah, a copy of which Nur al-Din kept close to his side, drew on Nizam ul-Mulk's tolerant policy towards the four Sunni schools of

  law and was also very tolerant towards moderate Shiism, and he went as far

  as to argue that the Sunnis and the moderate Shiites should form a united

  front against the Fatimid Ismailis. Nur al-Din was also a strong believer that

  madrasas should not be limited to one school but should be open to all

  Sunni Muslims. In fact his whole belief was built on the cornerstone that

  there should be one ecumenical united Sunni state. But if his Islamic beliefs

  were ecumenically orthodox, his attitude towards the Franks was intransi-

  gent and implacable, and none more so than in 1149, when he defeated

  Raymond of Antioch at the battle of Inab. Raymond was slain and his head,

  encased in silver, sent to the Abbasid caliph in Baghdad, to mark Nur

  al-Din's position as the Sunni Muslim's leading warrior.

  Nur al-Din maintained a very close relationship with the religious classes

  of Syria - it was claimed that he spent up to 9,000 dinars a month just on

  pious endowments - and in return the ulama not only supported him

  actively but also played the
ir part in his militaiy campaigns. His army con-

  tained religious men - lawyers and mystics - who were actually prepared to

  fight in the ranks. Also in the ranks were other figures - prayer leaders,

  Quran readers, preachers and judges.''^ The difference between Zengi and

  Nur al-Din can be viewed thus: whereas the Muslim chroniclers praise

  Zengi for his military achievements, in the case of Nur al-Din the emphasis

  is on the religious dimension of his career."''' Prior to Nur al-Din, 16 pri-

  vately constructed madrasas existed in the Zengid empire. During his reign

  40 madrasas were constructed, of which Nur al-Din himself personally com-

  missioned 20.^^ When he began his reign in Aleppo in 1146, there existed

  only one madrasa in the city. Three years later in 1149 his construction of

  the al-Hallawiyya madrasa - located deliberately just across from the Great

  Mosque - was a reminder to the Shiites of Aleppo that Sunnism was there

  to stay, and in that particular city the number of madrasas increased from

  one to eight. Clearly the madrasas appeared to challenge the predominant

  Shiite position in the city, and during their construction the Shiites sent

  • 34 •

  2: T H E T U R N I N G O F T H E T I D E

  men at night to tear down what had been built during tiie day. Similarly,

  during a serious illness that Nur al-Din endured in 1157, during which his

  life hung in the balance, the Shiites of Aleppo went on the rampage and

  destroyed several madrasas. They would not have done so unless they per-

  ceived the madrasas as a threat to their sect. Crucially it appeared to matter

  little to which madliab the madrasa was commissioned; Hanafis built

  madrasas for Shafiis and Shafiis for Hanafis, and we see no signs of ten-

  sions in Syria which existed further east. What mattered was the actual

  building - partly as a barometer upon which an individual's level of ortho-

  doxy was measured, certainly as a public expression of authority and power,

  and definitely as a sign of personal piety. The last factor must have been an

  important one, for how else does one explain the disproportionate number

  of madrasas constructed by women patrons?

  If Nizam ul-Mulk symbolised the political manifestation of the Sunni