History of the Moorish Empire in Europe, Vol. 1 (of 3)

by S. P. Scott

At this time Ibn-abi-Amir had just entered his thirty-ninth year. Of the theory of the art of war he knew but little, of the practical application of its principles absolutely nothing. His entire life had been passed in avocations whose duties were rather a hinderance than an aid to service in the field. But the powers of his mind, equal to any emergency, enabled him to surmount with ease the apparently insuperable obstacles that now confronted him. If he was deficient in military knowledge and experience, he was, on the other hand, endowed with qualities too often ignored or despised by the martinet. In prudence, in coolness, in judgment, in courage, he was not surpassed by the most accomplished leader that ever directed the movements of an army. The hitherto successful realization of his projects, which he had foreseen and carefully planned, inspired him with a just, but not an arrogant, confidence in the capabilities of his genius. He possessed the secret of ingratiating himself with the soldiers, whose devotion to his person subsequently carried the day on many a hard-fought and doubtful field. All, of whatever rank, shared most liberally the fruits of his bounty. The officers were daily entertained at his table. Individual prowess was generously rewarded. The most trifling infraction of discipline was punished with inflexible severity. Such was the policy that guided the conduct of the new general from the very beginning of his martial career. Under the circumstances, it is not at all surprising that his arms for a quarter of a century should have been absolutely invincible.

The first expedition of Ibn-abi-Amir was not remarkable for the results which it accomplished in a military point of view. But its moral effects upon both Moslem and Christian were far more important than would seem to proceed from a mere foray into the country of the enemy. It revived the declining prestige of the khalifate. It raised the flagging ardor of the soldiery, enervated by the vices and the indolence of an uneventful and protracted peace. It aroused well-grounded hopes of future conquest and glory under a new and enterprising commander. It convinced the implacable enemies of Islam that the warlike spirit which had so long defeated their projects and obstructed their ambition was not yet extinct. The flying squadrons of Leonese ceased to plunder the villages of Andalusia. The shepherd and the husbandman were henceforth permitted to pursue their vocations in security. The standards of the infidel, emblazoned with the detested symbol of the cross, no longer disturbed the devotions or insulted the majesty of the Moslem capital.

The power of Ibn-abi-Amir being established upon a solid foundation, he began to mature plans he had long meditated for the acquisition and exercise of the supreme authority. The talents he had exhibited, the success he had achieved, had made him the most distinguished and commanding figure in the kingdom. He now determined to disembarrass himself, in turn, of such great officials of state as might be able to thwart him in the execution of his ambitious projects, and he decided to begin with Moshafi, the only one whose eminent position could suggest the possibility of rivalry. In the execution of this project, antipathy of race, ever conspicuous in the Moorish contests for supremacy, lent its aid to jealousy of power. Moshafi was of Berber extraction, and consequently obnoxious to the Arab faction to which Ibn-abi-Amir belonged. The vizier owed the consideration in which he was held by Al-Hakem solely to his literary attainments, which were a greater recommendation to the favor of that monarch than either talents for statesmanship or renown in arms. His pride was excessive; his character lacked decision; his penuriousness was proverbial; his peculations conspicuous in a court where moral and political integrity were the exception. He was already a mere puppet in the hands of his colleague, whose genius had obtained over his feeble and irresolute mind a complete ascendency. While maintaining the closest relations with Moshafi, his perfidious enemy availed himself of every means to effect his ruin. He constantly excited against him the prejudices of the Sultana Aurora. He obtained the promotion of Ghalib, the most distinguished officer of the army, and between whom and Moshafi there existed a bitter feud, to the highest rank in the military service. He even enlisted the aid of the unsuspicious vizier for this purpose by representing the necessity of a reconciliation with that leader, whose popularity with the soldiery, seconded by his ambition, might at any time accomplish the overthrow of the administration. Then, this adept in the arts of intrigue contracted an intimate alliance with Ghalib, whose principal object was the destruction of the obnoxious vizier. The two associates worked for a time in harmony for the promotion of their common interests. Each lauded to the skies the talents and the virtues of the other. In return for the high commands with which he had been invested, Ghalib exaggerated the achievements of his companion. His fulsome praise of the latter secured for him the prefecture of Cordova, an appointment which involved the dismissal of the son of Moshafi, who enjoyed the emoluments without discharging the duties of that responsible office. The venality of this youth, from whom money could at any time obtain immunity from punishment for even the most notorious criminal, had completely disorganized the police system of the city. Footpads infested the streets. Theft and murder were of nightly occurrence, and the citizens were compelled to rely upon their own vigilance and courage for that protection to which they were entitled by law. The mercenary character of the prefect, and the general demoralization of the municipal government, had, in addition to the refuse of a great capital, attracted from far and near bands of desperate characters, eager to profit by the spoils of successful and unmolested robbery.

But a change was now at hand. The new prefect brought to the administration of the affairs of his office the same inflexible justice, the same severity, the same resolution, which had elsewhere distinguished his conduct in a public capacity. The police system was remodelled. Its members, terrified by some salutary examples, which the exigencies of the service required, no longer fraternized with criminals. The foreign outlaws fled precipitately from the city. The streets could once more be traversed in security, the suburbs ceased to be the scene of tumult and disorder. The advantages of rank and fortune gave no immunity to offenders under the stern jurisdiction of Ibn-abi-Amir. Even the ties of blood were ignored by this impartial magistrate, for his own son, having been convicted of some violation of the law, received such a terrible scourging that he died under the hands of the executioner.

In the meantime, the friends of Moshafi had called his attention to the dangers that threatened him, and which his perceptions had not been acute enough to detect. The crisis was imminent, and the vizier saw no other means to counteract the insidious designs of his rival except by courting the favor of his ancient enemy Ghalib. He determined at once upon a bold stroke of policy, and, with every manifestation of honor and deference, requested the hand of the daughter of Ghalib for one of his sons. The pride of the veteran, despite his deep-seated feelings of enmity, was flattered by the compliment. The family of Moshafi, while not noble, was one of the most distinguished in Andalusia. His wealth, acquired by years of peculation, was known to be immense, and his authority nominally directed the affairs of the khalifate. Impressed with the advantages of such a matrimonial alliance, Ghalib readily assented to the proposition of the vizier. Delighted beyond measure with his success, Moshafi lost no time in arranging the preliminaries; the marriage-contract was signed, and a day appointed for the final ceremony. But these arrangements could not be concluded without the knowledge of the spies of Ibn-abi-Amir, some of whom were members of the household of the vizier. The latter soon discovered that he was no match for his wily adversary. His plots were met by counter-plots. The influence of the Sultana, supported by the entire following of Ibn-abi-Amir, whose friends included some of the highest functionaries of the khalifate, was exerted to shake the resolution of Ghalib. The motives of Moshafi were impugned. It was artfully insinuated that this sudden demonstration of friendship was only a convenient mask for some deep-laid act of perfidy. The implacable hatred so long entertained by the vizier against the veteran commander gave considerable color of probability to this suggestion. And finally, Ibn-abi-Amir himself made a formal demand for the hand of the beautiful Asma, protesting that the son of the plebeian Moshafi was unworthy of a damsel whose rank and beauty might well entitle her to be the bride of the most powerful subject of the Moslem empire. The constancy of Ghalib was not proof against these plausible representations. Without warning, he repudiated his engagements with Moshafi. His daughter became the wife of Ibn-abi-Amir; their nuptials were celebrated with a pomp exceeding anything of the kind ever held in the capital; and the bridegroom himself was appointed to the office of hajib, the most exalted dignity in the gift of the crown.

From this time the fall of Moshafi was rapid. The worthless friends of his prosperity, one by one, abandoned him. He was imprisoned along with the male members of his family, and their property was seized pending an investigation for malfeasance in office. There was no difficulty in establishing the truth of this accusation. The offences of the culprits had been flagrant and notorious. The sentence of confiscation imposed upon them swept into the public coffers a great treasure, most of which had been acquired by fraud and extortion. Such of the relatives of the vizier as had rendered themselves especially offensive to their persecutor were strangled. Others managed to eke out a wretched subsistence by the most menial occupations, and even by beggary. The venerable Moshafi, after suffering for years every humiliation that could be imposed by the ingenuity of hatred and the insolence of power, perished in some unknown way by violence, and his body was carried to the grave with but little more ceremony than usually attended the interment of a pauper.

While these events were transpiring, a formidable conspiracy for the assassination of the Khalif and the promotion of one of his cousins, Abd-al-Rahman-Ibn-Obeydallah, to the royal dignity, was maturing in the capital. The great majority of the literary men,—the former companions and instructors of Ibn-abi-Amir,—with officials who had viewed his elevation with unconcealed envy and hatred, stimulated by mediocrity and conscious incompetence, were the promoters of the enterprise. The dangerous position of leader was assumed by the eunuch Djaudar, who was anxious to avenge his disgrace, to retrieve his fortunes, and to restore the failing credit of his caste. There was scarcely a kadi, a jurist, a poet of the court, or a professor of the University who was not cognizant of the plot. The faquis and the theologians, who considered the orthodoxy of Ibn-abi-Amir as more than doubtful, were concerned in it to a man. The prefect, Ziyad-Ibn-Aflah, who had succeeded Ibn-abi-Amir in the control of the municipal affairs of Cordova, promised his co-operation, and agreed to place the armed force under his command at the disposal of the conspirators. It was decided that Djaudar should put the Khalif to death. The day for action arrived; the palace was designedly abandoned by the police; and Djaudar obtained without suspicion an audience with Hischem. But, either through awkwardness or irresolution, the blow aimed at the heart of the Khalif fell short; the assassin was overpowered; and the prefect, having been summoned to the palace and seeing that all was lost, endeavored to remove suspicion from himself by the arrest and zealous prosecution of his accomplices. The leading conspirators were crucified, and punishments of greater or less severity were inflicted upon the others. The double traitor, Ziyad-Ibn-Aflah, with brazen effrontery, assisted at the trial and voted for the condemnation of his former associates.

Aware that his liberal views on the subject of religion, and the philosophical studies with which he frequently occupied his leisure, had created against him a feeling which was largely responsible for the recent conspiracy, and which might eventually be productive of more serious disorders, Ibn-abi-Amir determined to make some concessions to the prejudices of the theologians. The broad toleration of the two former reigns, when skepticism was fashionable and the cultivation of philosophy general and popular, had been followed by a reaction. The influence of the Malikites had been re-established, and it was easy for these fanatics to excite popular odium against any one suspected of entertaining heretical opinions. When the obnoxious individual filled a post of eminence in the state, a hint from a faqui might be equivalent to a sentence of death. The native shrewdness of Ibn-abi-Amir suggested a means of counteracting this danger. Having carefully selected the theologians of the capital most notorious for their intolerance, he invited them to the palace and solemnly informed them that the presence of the philosophical and scientific works in the library of Al-Hakem was a great burden upon his conscience, and requested their assistance in purging the collection of books treating of subjects whose study was not sanctioned by the Koran. Conducted into the immense library whose shelves were covered with the literary treasures of Europe and Asia, the bigoted enemies of learning entered upon their task with alacrity. The collection was examined in detail, and the works known or suspected to be tainted with heterodox sentiments were consigned to the flames. The distinguished penitent improved the occasion to offer an edifying exhibition of zeal by personally assisting in the destruction of the proscribed volumes.

History has failed to acquaint us with the magnitude of this loss. It must have been important, however, even if due allowance be made for the ignorance of the muftis and faquis, who had but slight knowledge of any save theological literature, and whose industry must have been sorely taxed by the laborious scrutiny of six hundred thousand volumes. Henceforth no one ventured to question the orthodoxy of the minister. He patronized with marked partiality all members of the religious profession; flattered their pride by his attention to their prosy discourses; won their affection by his liberality; elicited their praise by his denunciation of infidels. He demonstrated that the skill of his youth had not departed from him by the production of a beautiful copy of the Koran, written entirely by his own hand, which he never suffered to leave his person, and constantly perused in public with such apparent unction that all who beheld him were greatly impressed with this remarkable display of devotion.

Moshafi having been disposed of, it was now the turn of Ghalib. The powerful interest of Ibn-abi-Amir with the Sultana and the nobles which had raised him to the rank of hajib placed him on a political equality with his father-in-law. The latter was constantly at variance with his associate, whom he considered as his inferior, but whose ascendency in the conduct of the administration he was nevertheless forced to acknowledge. The annoyance Ibn-abi-Amir suffered from these disputes, and the fact that Ghalib was now the sole obstacle interposed between his ambition and the practical sovereignty of the empire, led him to begin without delay the scheme which he had devised for the overthrow of his colleague. The first, and indeed the indispensable, requisite of success was the control of the army. The power of the audacious minister, which was dreaded by every civil functionary of the khalifate, virtually ended at the outposts of the nearest garrison. The soldiery knew him only as a kadi; and while he had behaved with credit in more than one engagement, and had established a name for generosity, his military reputation and popularity had so far proved to be neither brilliant nor enduring. The attachment of the soldiers centred in Ghalib. They had shared together the hardships and the glory of many arduous campaigns. Their interests had long been identical, and any demonstration involving the honor or the safety of the general would have been resisted by the entire military force of the monarchy. The army consisted mainly of Arabs, the Berbers enlisted by Abd-al-Rahman III. having been gradually disbanded and natives of the Peninsula substituted for them under Al-Hakem. The partiality of their commander had indulged them in frequent and serious infractions of discipline. Their equipment was not uniform, and was often defective. The awkwardness of the horsemen was the jest of foreigners. In many respects the organization of the various corps did not differ from that of a disorderly and inefficient militia.