A Companion to Late Antique and Medieval Islamic Cordoba: Capital of Roman Baetica and Caliphate of Al-andalus (Islamic History and Civilization, 195) 9789004524149, 9789004524156, 9004524142

Citation preview

A Companion to Late Antique and Medieval Islamic Cordoba

Islamic History and Civilization studies and texts

Editorial Board Hinrich Biesterfeldt Sebastian Günther

Honorary Editor Wadad Kadi

volume 195

The titles published in this series are listed at brill.com/ihc

A Companion to Late Antique and Medieval Islamic Cordoba Capital of Roman Baetica and Caliphate of al-Andalus

Edited by

Juan Pedro Monferrer-Sala Antonio Monterroso-Checa

leiden | boston

Translations into English were funded by hum 882 Research Group and cneru Research Unit. University of Córdoba. Cover illustration: Mosque of the Palace of Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ. Credits: Conjunto Arqueológico Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Monferrer Sala, Juan Pedro, editor. | Monterroso Checa, Antonio, editor. Title: A companion to late antique and medieval Islamic Cordoba : capital of Roman Baetica and Caliphate of al-Andalus / edited by Juan Pedro Monferrer-Sala, Antonio Monterroso-Checa. Description: Leiden ; Boston : Brill, [2023] | Series: Islamic history and civilization, 0929-2403 ; volume 195 | Includes bibliographical references and index. Identifiers: lccn 2022055686 (print) | lccn 2022055687 (ebook) | isbn 9789004524149 (hardback) | isbn 9789004524156 (ebook) Subjects: lcsh: Có rdoba (Spain)–History–To 1500. | Có rdoba (Spain)–Religion. | Cities and towns, Medieval–Spain. | Christianity and other religions–Islam. Classification: lcc dp402.c7 c65 2023 (print) | lcc dp402.c7 (ebook) | ddc 946.8/402–dc23/eng/20230106 lc record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2022055686 lc ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2022055687

Typeface for the Latin, Greek, and Cyrillic scripts: “Brill”. See and download: brill.com/brill‑typeface. issn 0929-2403 isbn 978-90-04-52414-9 (hardback) isbn 978-90-04-52415-6 (e-book) Copyright 2023 by Juan Pedro Monferrer-Sala and Antonio Monterroso-Checa. Published by Koninklijke Brill nv, Leiden, The Netherlands. Koninklijke Brill nv incorporates the imprints Brill, Brill Nijhoff, Brill Hotei, Brill Schöningh, Brill Fink, Brill mentis, Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, Böhlau, V&R unipress and Wageningen Academic. Koninklijke Brill nv reserves the right to protect this publication against unauthorized use. Requests for re-use and/or translations must be addressed to Koninklijke Brill nv via brill.com or copyright.com. This book is printed on acid-free paper and produced in a sustainable manner.

Contents Preface vii List of Figures x Notes on Contributors

xvii

1

How an Earthquake Shaped the Foundations of a New City: Cordoba from the 3rd to the 5th Century ad 1 Carlos Márquez and Antonio Monterroso-Checa

2

Rich Corduba on the Quiet Baetis: Politics, Society, and Economy in a Hispanic Provincial Capital between the 3rd and 5th Centuries 22 Sabine Panzram

3

Corduba and the Byzantine Expansion in the Western Mediterranean 51 Jaime Vizcaíno-Sánchez

4

The Role of Culture in a World in Transition: Iberia between the Romans and the Arabs 79 Esther Sánchez-Medina

5

Christianity: The Architecture of a New Faith (4th–7th Century) 97 María de los Ángeles Utrero Agudo and Alejandro Villa del Castillo

6

The City in New Hands 131 Xavier Ballestín-Navarro

7

Qurṭuba in Arabic Written Sources (8th–13th Century) Alejandro García-Sanjuán

8

A City for Muslim Power: Topography, Spaces, and Administration Mohamed Meouak

9

The Medina: The Old City of Cordoba 186 Alberto León Muñoz and Alberto Javier Montejo Córdoba

10

The Suburbs of the Greatest City in the West 221 Juan Francisco Murillo Redondo and María Teresa Casal-García

142

164

vi

contents

11

The Christian and Islamic Population of Cercadilla, Córdoba: 7th–12th Century 252 Mª del Camino Fuertes Santos and Rafael Hidalgo Prieto

12

The Ceremonial Ensemble of the Umayyad Caliphate at Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ 271 Antonio Vallejo-Triano

13

When the Stones Speak: Believing, Living, and Dying in Qurṭuba. The Arabic Epigraphy 304 María Antonia Martínez-Núñez

14

The Jews of Cordoba 337 José Martínez Delgado

15

The Arabicized Christians in Cordoba: Social Context and Literary Production 353 Juan Pedro Monferrer-Sala

16

Faiths in Contact: Santa Clara, an Overlapping Building through Centuries 378 José Ignacio Murillo-Fragero

17

Literature in Qurṭuba Pedro Buendía

18

Córdoba as a Scientific Center Julio Samsó

19

Fine Arts in Qurṭuba 457 José Miguel Puerta Vílchez

406

Index of Anthroponyms 495 Index of Toponyms 501

437

Preface In 169/168 bc, Marcus Claudius Marcellus, then sole praetor of Hispania, founded the Latin colony of Corduba, which would later be called Colonia Patricia— i.e., “Colony of the Fathers” or “Colony of the State”—when it received the last contingent of Roman citizens under Augustus. This brought to an end the pre-Roman period during which Turdetan Cordoba had served as the main economic, urban, cultural, and territorial nucleus of the middle Guadalquivir Valley. Situated in the heart of Tartessos, at the exact point where the two Tartessic domains of the Guadalquivir and Guadiana valleys meet in the Sierra Morena mountain range, Cordoba embarked upon a long historical process with Rome that would continue from antiquity to the Middle Ages until the al-Andalus period. An intermediate time links these two realities, late antiquity and the Visigoth period, which were of enormous importance for the future of the city. Due to its privileged location on the banks of the Guadalquivir River, as well as its important land and river connections, rich metalliferous deposits in the heart of the sierra, fertile countryside, and strategic position, Corduba had been a distinguished and much desired city since the Tartessic period during the final stage of the Bronze Age. With the foundation of Corduba, the Romans ensured their military control and defence of the riches and waterways between the plateau and the sea in the southernmost part of the Iberian Peninsula. Roman Corduba, next to the old Tartessic city, undoubtedly provided a stronghold for the Romanization of a Baetica that, possessing a literary tradition of more than 6,000 years according to Strabo, quickly and easily embraced Latin to the point of almost forgetting the ancestral linguistic origins of its inhabitants within a very short time. The Romanization of Baetica was possible thanks to the mutual interest and benefit gained by both the Hispanic and Roman nobility: some prospered and promoted themselves, while others negotiated and gained power from their land holdings and the multiple resources they offered. This social phenomenon was similar to what Cordoba would experience eight and a half centuries later when the Arabs settled in the city and adapted its name as Qurṭuba. The coexistence of the Visigoth nobility with the incoming Umayyad rulers initiated a new historical process in which the Romanization of Hispania and its incorporation into the lands of the Roman Empire, deeply marked by the Germanic invasions in the 5th century, would continue in part in the Umayyad al-Andalus, although now with a different model of production in which the process of Arabization, led by the recently established state, would open a new chapter in the city’s history.

viii

preface

In October 711, the freedman Mughīth gained control over Cordoba, and in 716 the city became the center of power in al-Andalus. Although immersed in complex political struggles and intrigues that were kindled, among other things, by ethnic differences, the Umayyad Cordoba saw a time of great glory, first during the two stages of the Cordoban emirate: the dependent emirate of the Caliphate of Damascus (714–756) and the independent emirate of the new Abbasid Caliphate (756–912). This double emirate period would lead to the culminating stage in the city’s history, the caliphate, which although brief—it lasted just over half a century (929–1031)—would bring Cordoba to its height of splendour during the Middle Ages and beyond. After the fall of the Caliphate of Cordoba, the city began a progressive decline during the Taifa and African dynasties, first under the Almoravids and then under the Almohads. In 1236, the city fell into the hands of the King of Castile, Ferdinand iii the Saint, thus marking the beginning of the slow agony of al-Andalus. This volume brings together 19 contributions by recognized specialists in various fields of the history and culture of Roman, late antique, Visigoth, and al-Andalus Cordoba and is divided into two parts. The first part, dedicated to the Roman, late antique, and Visigoth Corduba, includes five chapters that deal with the destruction and disfigurement of the classical city and the starting point of the late antique one (Márquez and Monterroso-Checa); politics, society, and the economy during late antiquity (Panzram); the disperse situation in the Visigoth period (Sánchez-Medina); the architecture of the cities from the 4th to the 7th centuries (Utrero Agudo and Villa del Castillo); and Corduba’s ties with the Byzantine expansion (Vizcaíno—Sánchez). The second part, dedicated to Muslim Qurṭuba, contains 14 chapters that deal with the city in Arabic sources (García-Sanjuán); the Arab occupation (Ballestín-Navarro); the city’s administrative apparatus (Meouak); the Christian and Islamic populations during the 7th to the 12th centuries (Hidalgo Prieto and Fuertes Santos); the historical and cultural milieu of Christians (Monferrer-Sala) and Jews (Martínez Delgado); the city’s hybrid Islamic– Christian architecture (Murillo-Fragero); the old medina (León Muñoz and Montejo Córdoba); the suburban areas (Murillo Redondo and Casal-García); the palatial complex of al-Madīnah al-Zahrāʾ (Vallejo—Triano); the practice of fine arts (Puerta Vílchez); descriptions of everyday life gleaned from epigraphic remains (Martínez-Núñez); and the fascinating world of science (Samsó) and letters (Buendía). The up-to-date information collected in each of the chapters that make up this Companion gives a compelling account of Cordoba’s most important archaeological, urban, political, legal, social, cultural, and religious facets. Indeed, this volume offers state-of-the art knowledge on the most outstanding

preface

ix

aspects of the city from the late Roman era to the Muslim period. The 19 studies in the Companion will surely provide the reader with fresh insights into the research carried out over the last few decades on the city. Editors wish to thank José Luis Domínguez Jiménez for his help during the edition process of the present volume. The Editors Cordoba, December 15, 2020

Figures 1.1

1.2 1.3 1.4

1.5 2.1 2.2 2.3

2.4

2.5

3.1 3.2 3.3 3.4 3.5 3.6 5.1

The three historical settlements of Cordoba. The Iberian, Roman and medieval city and the new extension of the medieval city from the 12th century. Image: Orthoimage of 2016 acquired by ign © OrtoPNOA 2016 cc-by 4.0 ign.es. 2 Ancient Roman Córdoba. © Carlos Marquez / Antonio Monterroso-Checa 4 a-b-c: Seven-meter-long fissures detected in the quaternary bed rock under the stands of the Roman Theater. © Antonio Monterroso-Checa 8 Building completely collapsed in one of the lateral squares at the entrance to the theater. © Ángel Ventura Villanueva and Antonio Monterroso-Checa 9 Collapse of a house and a tavern directly onto a paved Roman road. © Patricio Soriano 10 Corduba in the imperial period with the most important public buildings (city map: courtesy of María del Camino Fuertes Santos). 24 Cercadilla (layout: courtesy of Rafael Hidalgo Prieto). 28 a–b: cil ii2/7, 133, votive inscription of Q. Cornelius [---] (71–130a.d.) (photo: Universidad de Alcalá. Centro cil ii2, access: October 30 2022: http://www3.uah.es/imagines_cilii/CILII/cordubensis2.htm). 32 cil ii2/7, 221, honorary inscription for L. Iunius Paulinus (201–230a.d.) (photo: Universidad de Alcalá. Centro cil ii2, access: 28.08.2018: http://www3.uah.es/imagines_cilii/CILII/cordubensis2.htm). 33 a–b: Settlements in the region of the ager Cordubensis: the 1st to 2nd and 3rd to 4th centuries in comparison (sketches by Peter Houten based on Ventura Villanueva/Gasparini, “El territorio y las actividades económicas”, pp. 153–206, here pp. 200–201). 37 Byzantine Spania © Jaime Vizcaino 54 Late roman pottery in the Mediterraenan Basin © Jaime Vizcaino 59 Globular bowl incense burner conserved in the © Museum of Córdoba 64 Cymatium from Campo de la Verdad © Museum of Córdoba 66 So called “Byzantine” mosaics of Santa Clara in Córdoba © Pedro Marfil 67 Late antique civil and political complex © Alberto León 71 Plan of Cordoba. 1 Main mosque—San Vicente. 2 Cercadilla. 3 Hermitage of Santos Mártires. 4 Huerta de San Rafael. 5 Santa Clara. 6 Duque de Hornachuelos. 7 Amphitheatre. 8 Cortijo de Chinales. 9 La Merced. 10 Campo de la Verdad. 11 Nuestra Señora de la Salud. 12 Huerta de la Camila. 13 Santa Marina. 98

figures 5.2

5.3

5.4

5.5

5.6

9.1

9.2 9.3

9.4

xi

A, Cordoba, maeco nº 2880 (photo: author); B, Merida, basilica of Santa Eulalia, Consorcio Ciudad Monumental de Mérida (ccmm) nº 112–412 or 700–141 (photo: author); C, Cordoba, maeco nº 23537 (photo: author); D, Merida, basilica of Santa Eulalia, ccmm (photo: author); E, Cordoba, Mosque (photo: author); F, Merida, basilica of Santa Eulalia (photo: author); G, Cordoba, Mosque (photo: author); H, Merida, Museo Nacional de Arte Romano (photo: author); i, Cordoba, maeco nº 293 (photo: author); J, Merida, unknown location (photo: Ballesteros y Beretta, A., Historia de España y su influencia en la Historia Universal i, Barcelona 1918). 103 A Cordoba, maeco (photo: author); B, Toledo, San Martín de Montalban, Santa María de Meque, Museo de Santa Cruz nº 20524 (photo: author); C, Merida, Alcazaba, ccmm nº 625-00-2 (photo: author). 109 A, Cordoba, cil ii2/7, 681, maeco (photo: author); B, Cordoba, Santa Cruz, ‘cortijo de Haza’, cil ii2/5, 482 (photo: Padrino y Solís, J., Memorias literarias de la Real Academia Sevillana de Buenas Letras. Tomo Primero, Sevilla 1773); C, Cordoba, mosque (photo: author); D, Cordoba, Cabra surroundings, today in Granada, ‘Mirador de Morayma’ restaurant, cil ii2/5, 337 (photo: Rielo); E, Cordoba, maeco nº 10096 (photo: author); F, Cordoba, Mosque (photo: Gómez-Moreno, El arte árabe español hasta los almohades 33, fig. 26). 111 A, Cordoba, maeco nº 24544 (photo: author); B, Toledo, ‘Los Hitos’ and Arisgotas, Museo de Santa Cruz and Arisgotas (photo: author); C, Cordoba, maeco nº 23813 (photo: author); D, Arisgotas, Museo Visigodo de Arisgotas (photo: author); E, Cordoba, maeco nº ce007931 (photo: author). 113 A–E, Cordoba, pieces recovered in the Mosque (A–D photo: author; E photo: Brisch, K., Die Fenstergitter und verwandte Ornamente der Hauptmoschee von Córdoba, Berlin 1966). 118 Aerial views of the monumental complex formed by the Mosque-Cathedral, the Andalusi fortress and the main bridge, with the Calahorra fortress at its southern end (© gmu Córdoba). 187 Hypothesis of restitution of the inner urban fabric of the medina, with the indication of the main gates (Murillo et alii, 2009; © gmu-uco). 191 Elevation of the interior facing of the wall canvas documented in the archaeological intervention on the site of the current “Parking la Mezquita de Córdoba” (a and b), carried out with the technique of vertical chains of ashlar masonry; and tower of the western canvas of the wall in Qairuán street (c) (photographs by the authors). 193 Superimposed plan (Roman [red], Islamic [blue] and contemporary times) with the transformations experienced in the inner road of the walled city since the beginning of the 2nd century ad. and its continuity in the current road axes (Ruiz Bueno, 2016, 523). 195

xii

figures

9.5

(a) “Plan of the French”, drawn up by Wilhelm Friedrich von Karwinsky in 1811; (b) Aerial view of Córdoba made by Guesdon in the mid-19th century; (c) image of the city of Córdoba from the west in the 1930s (© ahm Córdoba). 196 Adarve, a small cul-de-sac, known as “calleja del Pañuelo”, which leads to a square that gives access to properties inside the block, in the southern part of the medina (photographs by the authors). 198 (a) Layout of water evacuation system of the interior of the medina; (b) layout of the sewer documented in C / Magistral González; and (c) detail of the ashlar channel (Pizarro, 2009–2010; © gmu-uco). 199 Route layout of the Andalusi medina: a) conserved street to the east of the founding mosque of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān i documented during the interventions carried out by Félix Hernández in the 1930s; b) al-Maḥajja al-ʿUẓmà, street located between the west façade of the Aljama mosque and Alcázar Andalusí (current C / Torrijos); c and d) minarets of the mosques of San Juan (emiral era) and Santa Clara, (from the end of the caliphate), adapted to the surrounding road network (photographs by the authors). 201 (a) Hypothetical restitution of the plan of the Andalusi fortress of Córdoba at the end of the 10th century (Courtesy of Juan F. Murillo); (b and c) Views of the structures documented in the archaeological intervention inside the “Patio de Mujeres” of the Alcázar de los Reyes Cristianos de Córdoba (© gmu-uco). 206 Structures belonging to possible aristocratic buildings inside the medina: a) wall with caliphal rigging documented in the archaeological intervention on Avenida de Gran Capitán in the mid-eighties (Cabrera, Córdoba 1991); b) Caliphal building excavated at C / Calle Manríquez, 5, (at the headquarters of the current Botí Foundation Center for Contemporary Art) (photograph by the authors). 211 Madīnat Qurṭuba; second half of 8th century 1. Alcázar. 2. Great Mosque. 3. Rabaḍ Shabulār. 4. Rabaḍ Balāṭ Mughīth. 5. Rabaḍ Shaqunda. 6. Maqbarat Shaqunda. 7. Munyat al-Ruṣāfa. 8. Munyat ʿAyab. 9. Vicus Turris. 10. Vicus Furn Burril. 11. Vicus Qūt Rāshah. 12. Basilica of the Three Saints. 13. Cercadilla episcopal complex (San Acisclo?). 14. Episcopal complex of the amphitheatre. 15. “Cortijo de Chinales” episcopal complex © Convenio gmu-uco. 222 Urban structure of excavated sectors in Saqunda suburb; second half of 7th century to a.d.818. © Convenio gmu-uco. 226 Munyat al-Ruṣāfa founded by Emir ʻAbd al-Raḥmān iii in a.d.756, which reproduced a Syrian prototype similar to al-Zaytūna in Reṣāfa-Hishām. Several small almunias, an early suburb, and a cemetery were established in the area in the 9th century. © Convenio gmu-uco. 231

9.6

9.7

9.8

9.9

9.10

10.1

10.2 10.3

figures 10.4

10.5

10.6

10.7 10.8 10.9

11.1 11.2

11.3

11.4 11.5 11.6

xiii

Mid-9th century Madīnat Qurṭuba. 1. Alcázar. 2. Great Mosque. 3. Rabaḍ Shabulār. 4. Rabaḍ Balāṭ Mughīth. 5. Almunia and suburb of Reina Sofía Hospital. 6. Almunia, suburb, mosque, and cemetery of Naranjal de Almagro. 7. Almunia, suburb, and cemetery of Fontanar de Cabanos. 9. Rabaḍ al-Burj (Vicus Turris). 10 Rabaḍ Furn Burril. 11. Rabaḍ Qūt Rāshah. 13. Cercadilla suburb (San Acisclo?). 14. Suburb of the amphitheatre. © Convenio gmu-uco. 232 Early 11th-century Madīnat Qurṭuba. Location of Madīnat al-Zahrāʼ and alMadīnat al-Zāhira, with their urban areas of Jiha al-gharbiyya and Jiha al-jawfiyya. © Convenio gmu-uco. 236 Urban structure in the Jiha al-gharbiyya suburb. The plan corresponds to the excavation in the present-day Zoco neighbourhood, and the photos to the excavation of the Poniente public swimming pool and the Biomedical Research Centre. © Convenio gmu-uco. 238 Urban structure and large house in the western sector of Rabaḍ al-Ruṣāfa. © Convenio gmu-uco. 241 Early 11th-century Cordoba urban agglomeration comparable in size to the Iraqi capitals of Bagdad and Samarra. 242 Suburbs of late 12th-century Madīnat Qurṭuba: A. Bāb ʻĀmir. B. Cercadilla. C. Avenida de la Libertad. D. Bāb al-Yahūd. E. Valdeolleros. F. Ollerías. G. Plasencia Gate. H. Baeza Gate. © Convenio gmu-uco. 244 Right half of a Pectem maximus scallop shell with two holes. Pilgrim’s shell. Chronology: 12th century. Almohad Caliphate. © Mª C. Fuertes Santos. 252 On a Google Earth image (© Google Earth Fair Use), reconstruction of the Cercadilla palace (under the direction of R. Hidalgo) and amphitheatre of Cordoba (the latter according to the proposal of Jiménez Hernández, 2015). 253 Model of the Roman palace of Cercadilla. Built by A. Ortega Anguiano under the direction of R. Hidalgo. Model owned by the Museo Diocesano de Córdoba. © Photograph: Mª C. Fuertes Santos. 254 Plan of the Cercadilla archaeological site. © R. Hidalgo and Mª C. Fuertes Santos. 255 North triconch apsidal hall of the Roman palace and church of St Acisclus. © Photograph: Mª C. Fuertes Santos. 256 Model of the Christian place of worship erected on buildings of the Roman palace. Exhibited during the Nasara, extranjeros en su tierra exhibition at the Mosque of Cordoba from December 2017-January 2018. Built by A. Ortega Anguiano. Scientific supervision: R. Hidalgo and Mª C. Fuertes Santos. Model owned by the Museo Diocesano de Córdoba. © Photograph: Mª C. Fuertes Santos. 257

xiv

figures

11.7

Tomb of a late antique individual with severe wounds--see the severed left femur; 7.2. Tomb of Mozarabic individual with 32 al-Andalus coins as funerary objects placed above the right shoulder; 7.3. Tomb of a male individual without head. © Photograph: Mª C. Fuertes Santos. 260 Area of the cryptoporticus where most of the occupied floors associated to the 5th–8th centuries have been documented, as well as the tomb and midden from the second third of the 8th century. In the photograph, at the back, screen wall of the railway station of Cordoba. © Photograph: Mª C. Fuertes Santos. 261 Hypothetical ground plan of the Alcázar © Conjunto Arqueológico de Medina Azahara 273 Interpretative map of the city with hypothetical indication of the route to the alcázar © Conjunto Arqueológico de Medina Azahara 281 Great Portico of the Bāb al-Sudda gate © Conjunto Arqueológico de Medina Azahara 282 Ramped streets © Conjunto Arqueológico de Medina Azahara 283 Ground plan of the upper platform indicating the ceremonial route © Conjunto Arqueológico de Medina Azahara 284 Terrace of the High Garden and Hall of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii: interior and ground plan © Conjunto Arqueológico de Medina Azahara 288 Ground plan of the terrace with the two buidings facing each other: majlis al-sharqī and majlis al-gharbī © Conjunto Arqueológico de Medina Azahara 290 Interior of the Hall of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii (majlis al-sharqī) © Conjunto Arqueológico de Medina Azahara 291 Ground plan of al-Mahdiyya. Own elaboration based on ground plan of © A. Lézine 295 Lead seal in the name of Emir ʿAbd al-Raḥmān b. Muʿawiya. The Tonegawa Collection: http://www.andalustonegawa.50g.com/SELLOS/S‑daj.html 311 Façade of San Esteban. Great Mosque of Córdoba. Detail of the inscription in the name of Amir Muḥammad i (241/855–856). 313 Epitaph of Badīʿ, mother of a son of Amir Muḥammad i. Museum of Málaga. 316 Fragment of a frieze from the Aljama Mosque of Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ (c. 333/944–945). 318 Epigraphic frieze from the access arcade to the Hall of al-Nāṣir (345/956–957). Madīnat al-Zahrā’. Detail of the spelling. 320 Base from the bath attached to the Hall of al-Nāṣir. Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ. 320 Mosque of Córdoba. Cufic of the imposts of the access arch to the miḥrāb (354/965). 322

11.8

12.1 12.2 12.3 12.4 12.5 12.6 12.7

12.8 12.9 13.1 13.2 13.3 13.4 13.5 13.6 13.7

figures 13.8 13.9 13.10 16.1 16.2 16.3 16.4 16.5 16.6 16.7

16.8 16.9 19.1 19.2 19.3 19.4 19.5 19.6 19.7 19.8

xv

Funerary stele with the epitaph of a woman (446/1054). Archaeological and Ethnographic Museum of Córdoba. 326 Font of the Cathedral of Santander. Drawing of the inscription. M. Ocaña Jiménez, Al-Andalus, 12, 1 (1947), p. 157. 328 Almohad ceramic curb. Archaeological and Ethnographic Museum of Córdoba. 329 Ground plan of the convent of Santa Clara after disentailment drawn in 1870 by Amadeo Rodríguez (© Municipal Historical Archive of Cordoba). 379 Upper (top) and lower (bottom) floors of the church of Santa Clara with the stages of its stratigraphic analysis. © Author 380 Perspective from S of the church of the convent of Santa Clara with the medieval stages (Stages ib–iiib) of its stratigraphic analysis. © Author 386 Stratigraphic analysis of the N interior façade of the church of the convent of Santa Clara. © Author 387 Stratigraphic analysis of the E façade of the church of the convent of Santa Clara. © Author 389 Stratigraphic analysis of the S interior façade of the church of the convent of Santa Clara. © Author 391 Stratigraphic analysis of the N façade of the wall between the eastern and western sections of the church of the convent of Santa Clara. © Author 393 Stratigraphic analysis of the E longitudinal arcade of the church of the convent of Santa Clara © Author 396 Sequential typology of the bonding documented in the church of the convent of Santa Clara © Author 402 Basin of Bādīs, 10th c. ce (Alhambra Museum) 458 Almanzor’s Basin, 377 H/987ce (National Archeological Museum, Madrid) 458 Fawn from Madīnat al-Zahrāʼ, 10th c. ce. Bronze (Madīnat al-Zahrā’s Museum, Córdoba) 460 Peacock-shaped bronze pitchers from al-Andalus, year 972 (Louvre Museum). 461 Bronze brasiers, Chirinos Square, Córdoba, Almohad period, 12–13th c. ce (Archeological Museum of Córdoba) 462 Candleholder from Algeciras, 11th c. ce (Granada Archeological Museum) 463 Girdle diadem from the treasure of Charilla, years 942–970ce (Museum of Jaén). 464 Gold filigree earring found in the Garden of the Queen (Huerta de la Reina), Corboba, Emirate of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii (Archeological Museum of Córdoba) 465

xvi 19.9 19.10 19.11 19.12 19.13 19.14 19.15 19.16 19.17 19.18 19.19 19.20 19.21 19.22 19.23 19.24 19.25 19.26

figures Caliphal flask for essence from Lucena (Cordoba), 10th c. ce (Archeological Museum of Cordoba) 466 Hishām’s coffin, 10th c. ce (Treasury of the Cathedral of Girona) 467 Pyxis from Zamora, 10th c. ce. Ivory (Museum of Zamora’s Cathedral) 468 Board game (manqala) for a daughter of ʻAbd al-Raḥmān iii, before 961ce Ivory (Museum of Burgos) 470 Pyxis of the Hispanic Society of New York, ca. 968ce. Ivory. 471 Pyxis of al-Mughīra, 357 H/968ce. Ivory (Louvre Museum) 472 Chest of Leyre, 395 H/1004/5ce. Ivory (Navarre Museum, Pamplona) 475 Pyxis of the Cathedral of Braga, ca. 1004/07ce. Ivory (Museum of the Cathedral of Braga, Portugal) 477 Ataifor (bowl) with the expression al-Mulk (“the Sovereignty”), 10th c. ce Ceramic green and manganese (Archeological Museum of Córdoba) 479 Inkwell founded in the Antonio Maura Street (Córdoba), 10th c. ce. Glazed ceramic (Archeological Museum of Córdoba) 480 Small plate decorated with ocelli founded in Madīnat al-Zahrāʼ, 10th c. ce. Ceramic green and manganese (Archeological Museum of Córdoba) 481 Bottle of the musicians, 10th c. ce. Ceramic green and manganese (Archeological Museum of Córdoba) 482 Glass cup from Madīnat al-Zahrāʼ with incised decoration, 10th c. ce. Blown glass (Archeological Museum of Córdoba) 483 Miʻzar (chiffon headdress) of Hishām, 10th c. ce. Silk tissue with golden string (The Royal Academy of History, Madrid). 484 Fragment of jubba from Oña, 10th c. ce. Silk, gold and linen (Monastery of San Salvador, Oña). 485 Minbar from Kutūbiyya, ca. 1137–1147ce. Precious woods and inlaid ivory. (Palace Museum al-Bādī, Marrakech). 487 Colophon of al-Mukhtaṣir by Ibn Musʻab ibn Abī Bakr, 359 H/970ce Parchement. Library of Qarawiyyīn (Fez, Morocco). 490 Blank page (rigth) and final of the colophon (left) from a copy of a Qurʼān copied in Qurṭuba in 548 H/1143/4ce. Parchement. Library of Istanbul University (A6755). 491

Notes on Contributors Xavier Ballestín-Navarro PhD (1963), Universitat de Barcelona, is Serra Hunter Associate Professor in the Area of Medieval History. His main publications are related to the career of Ibn Abī ʿĀmir al-Manṣūr (976/1002) and the dynamics of power legitimacy in early Islam in al-Andalus. Pedro Buendía (1968), Complutense University, Madrid is Associate Professor of Arabic Language and Literature. His research interests include medieval Arabic literature and history, as well as the symbolic history of Islamic civilization and the history of mentalities in premodern Arab societies. His publications focus on these fields, as well as on translations of classic texts of Arabic literature. María Teresa Casal-García Ph.D. (1975), University of Córdoba, is Assistant Professor of Archaeology at the Autonomous University of Madrid. She is an expert in Andalusi Archaeology and has published extensively in this field of study. Mª del Camino Fuertes-Santos PhD (1966), archaeologist at the Andalusian Agency of Cultural Institutions— Ministry of Culture and Historical Heritage of the Regional Government of Andalusia. She has published extensively on Roman and Andalusi medieval archeology in general, and on the archaeological sites of Cercadilla and Ategua (Cordoba) in particular. Alejandro García-Sanjuán PhD (1969), University of Seville, is Associate Professor of Medieval History at the University of Huelva. His scholarship deals with medieval Iberia and, more specifically, with the history of al-Andalus. Rafael Hidalgo Prieto PhD (1962), University of Pablo de Olavide (Seville), is Associate Professor of Archaeology at that university. He has published extensively on Roman and late antique archaeology.

xviii

notes on contributors

Alberto León Muñoz PhD (1967), University of Córdoba, is Associate Professor of Archaeology at that university. He has published extensively on late antique and Andalusi archaeology. Carlos Márquez (1959) is Full Professor of Classical Archaeology at the University of Córdoba. His research covers classical architecture and sculpture from the Roman period in both Spain and in Italy. José Martínez Delgado PhD (1974), University Complutense of Madrid, is Associate Professor of Hebrew Language at the University of Granada. He has published extensively on the history and transmission of biblical Hebrew during the Middle Ages, and on the study of biblical Hebrew grammar and lexicography in al-Andalus in particular. María Antonia Martínez-Núñez PhD (1951), University of Malaga, is Associate Professor of Arabic and Islamic Studies at that university. She has published extensively on the Arabic epigraphy of al-Andalus and the medieval Maghreb. Mohamed Meouak PhD (1957), University of Cádiz, is Full Professor of Arabic and Islamic Studies at that university. He has published extensively on the sociohistorical, cultural, and linguistic subjects of the medieval Islamic West (al-Andalus, Maghreb, and Sahel). Juan Pedro Monferrer-Sala PhD (1962), University of Córdoba, is Full Professor of Arabic and Islamic Studies at that university. He has published extensively on Christian Arabic literature in general, and on al-Andalus in particular. Alberto Javier Montejo Córdoba graduate (1966), Junta de Andalucía, Archaeological Heritage Curator. He has published extensively on the urban planning of the sector of the AlcázarMosque of Córdoba. Director of the Archaeological Ensamble of Medina Azahara between 2017 and 2019.

notes on contributors

xix

Antonio Monterroso-Checa PhD (1977), University of Córdoba, is Associate Professor of Archaeology at that university. He has published extensively on Roman archaeology and remote sensing for cultural heritage in general, and on the architecture and topography of ancient Rome in particular. José Ignacio Murillo-Fragero (1972), Project Manager of Urbe pro Orbe, is a specialist in the archaeology of architecture. He has published extensively on early medieval buildings and methodological aspects such as bim adaptation to Cultural Heritage (hbim). Juan Francisco Murillo Redondo PhD (1959), University of Córdoba, is Head of the Archaeological Excavations in the Municipality of Córdoba. He has published extensively on ancient, late antique, and Andalusi archaeology. Sabine Panzram PhD (2001), Münster University, is Professor of Ancient History at Hamburg University and currently director of the Center for Advanced Study RomanIslam—Center for Compared Empire and Transcultural Studies. She focuses on the social history of power in the Western Mediterranean, and in particular on urban history on the Iberian Peninsula. José Miguel Puerta Vílchez PhD (1959), University of Granada, is Associate Professor of Islamic Art History at that university. His studies and publications are mainly focused on Arabic aesthetics and art and architecture in al-Andalus. Julio Samsó PhD (1942), University of Barcelona, is Emeritus Professor of that university. He has published extensively on the history of science in al-Andalus and the Maghreb, in general, and on the history of astronomy in Western Islamic lands in particular. Esther Sánchez-Medina PhD (1977), Autonomous University of Madrid (uam), is Associate Professor of History of Ancient Rome and History of the Byzantine Empire. She has published extensively on Roman Africa and on identities during the Roman Empire and late antiquity.

xx

notes on contributors

María de los Ángeles Utrero Agudo PhD (1974), Autonoma University of Madrid, is Tenured Researcher at the School of Arabic Studies in Granada (Spanish National Research Council, csic). Her research is devoted to late antique and early medieval archaeology and architecture in Western Europe, both Islamic and Christian. Antonio Vallejo-Triano PhD (1957), is Curator of Historical Heritage of the Regional Government of Andalusia and Director of Archaeological Site of Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ (Córdoba). He has published extensively on architecture, archaeology, and the material culture of the Umayyad Caliphate, in particular on Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ. Alejandro Villa del Castillo PhD (1987), Complutense University of Madrid, is an independent researcher. His research is focused on late antique and early medieval sculpture and architecture in the Iberian Peninsula from an archaeological methodological approach. Jaime Vizcaíno-Sánchez PhD (1978), University of Málaga, is Associate Professor of Archaeology at that university. He has published extensively on Early Byzantine archaeology in the Western Mediterranean and on Roman and late antique iconography, dress accessories, and jewelry.

chapter 1

How an Earthquake Shaped the Foundations of a New City: Cordoba from the 3rd to the 5th Century ad Carlos Márquez and Antonio Monterroso-Checa

The urban center of Cordoba occupied the exact same site in late antiquity and the Islamic period as it had during the Roman period.1 In other words, the center of the medieval city corresponds exactly to the city limits of its predecessors (fig. 1.1). Even its most important religious and political structures, the episcopal complex, and the Aljama Mosque, respectively, were located in the central sector of ancient Roman Cordoba: the commercial area next to the river.2 Therefore, it is impossible to understand the urban development and topography of al-Andalus Cordoba without first understanding that of Roman Cordoba, given that one is superimposed on the other. In general, even in this type of book, when historical periods ascribed to cities are sharply defined it is because they can be justified by clear urban and temporal discontinuities. For example, Granada during the Nasrid dynasty had little in common with its Roman predecessor, Iliberris. The Vatican in Rome, for example, is located in a secondary area of the ancient city, which has nevertheless been a primary site since late antiquity. Similarly, the areas around large Roman basilicas, which were often built quite far from the forum, became major urban centers, while in classical times they were secondary. Even Rome’s old forum, the center of the universe for centuries, ceased to be regarded as a primary site and became a depopulated grazing area for cattle. As a result, it came to be known as the Campo Vaccino or “Cow Pasture” throughout the medieval and modern periods. In contrast, both the late antique and medieval cities of Cordoba are intrinsically linked to their Roman forerunner. All three share the same city limits and each is superimposed on the other. They all had primary urban centers in the area connecting the river port and the Guadalquivir River. Although not unique to Cordoba, given this distinctive aspect, it would seem logical to start this book 1 For more on the most recent research on the general evolution of Roman Cordoba, see Baena, Márquez, and Vaquerizo, Córdoba. 2 León and Murillo, El complejo civil tardoantiguo 323–335.

© Carlos Má r quez and Antonio Monterroso-Checa, 2023 | doi:10.1163/9789004524156_002

figure 1.1 The three historical settlements of Cordoba. The Iberian, Roman, and medieval city and the new extension of the medieval city from the 12th century image: orthoimage of 2016 acquired by ign © ortopnoa 2016 cc-by 4.0 ign.es

2 márquez and monterroso-checa

how an earthquake shaped the foundations of a new city

3

by first taking a look at the Roman city. This is also justified by the fact that Cordoba is a city of vertical urban continuity, where subsequent stages have survived by taking advantage of previous ones. To better understand this, one only needs to consider the location of the Great Mosque. Although the site has never been explored at a depth of more than five meters, it stands to reason that remnants of the city’s Roman urban structure lie under its foundations. It has even been suggested that under the mosque’s principal nave there is a fossilized Roman road, although this has not yet been verified. On top of the Roman urban structure (which, although not confirmed, undoubtedly exists) and the many layers of debris under which it was buried, several buildings were erected in late antiquity. This same site was then subsequently filled in and leveled to build the Aljama Mosque.3 Later, two cathedrals from the Christian era were built on top of the Aljama Mosque, which was already on raised ground. In other words, on the site of the mosque there is an uninterrupted, vertical chronological sequence spanning the 2nd century bce to the present day. Major changes to the Islamic city with respect to the Roman city only occurred around the 11th century, when the eastern outreaches of the city were enclosed by a new wall.4 However, the medieval city was laid out along the same topographical lines as the Roman city for over four centuries. In other words, it had a well-defined walled enclosure and identical suburban areas to the east and west.

1

The Urbanization of Roman Cordoba

Cordoba’s first enclave was located in the surroundings of the current Cruz Conde Park. Several stratigraphic surveys have been performed in this location, providing a chronology that dates back to around 3000–2500 bce. However, more consistent archaeological remains from the Late Bronze Age (around 800–700bce) associated with a settlement whose main activity was metallurgy have been documented.5 The later Roman city founded by the consul Marcus Claudius Marcellus in 169–168bc was located about 500 meters west of the old Turdetan Cordoba on one of the two hills overlooking the river (fig. 1.2). The city’s foundation can 3 For a summary, see Bermúdez, El atrium del grupo episcopal 316–317. 4 Murillo, Qurtuba califal. 5 Murillo, Nuevos trabajos arqueológicos; León Pastor, La secuencia cultural de la Corduba prerromana 41–44.

4

márquez and monterroso-checa

figure 1.2 Ancient Roman Cordoba © carlos marquez

be explained by Rome’s interest in controlling the central Guadalquivir Valley with the establishment of a military base, especially to gain access to and control the abundantly rich mines of the sierra of Cordoba, previously exploited by the Turdetan oligarchy.6 Rome, at least in this case, did not impose but simply juxtaposed, until the old Turdetan city fell into urban decay and its elite and inhabitants were integrated into the new Roman city. Due to this deterioration and the lack of resources, the Turdetan abandoned their city after more than 3,000 years of history. During the al-Andalus period, the city’s madina would later be built on top of Roman Cordoba, as we will see below. The Roman city is characterized by two walled enclosures built in the Republican and imperial periods, respectively. Of these, the former disappeared be6

García Fernández, Estrabón (iii 2, 1); Melchor, Historia de la Córdoba romana.

how an earthquake shaped the foundations of a new city

5

fore the late 1st century ce. As was customary, the streets inside the city were laid out in an orthogonal grid pattern. The city’s forum, located in the highest, flattest area, is documented from the 2nd century bce and survived from the late 3rd to the early 4th century. In the late 1st century ce, Cordoba boasted a vast Roman theater 125 meters in length, the largest in Hispania. As a result of the city’s devotion to the imperial cult and as seat of the capital of the province of Baetica, a new forum was built adjacent to the previous one in the first third of the 1st century ad. This forum was known as the Forum Novum or Forum Adiectum. In fact, it was a Templum Divi Augusti, an immense place of worship surrounded by a huge square hosting the administrative headquarters of the province of Baetica.7 Cordoba’s Roman amphitheater was built outside the walls to the west in the middle of the 1st century ce. The expansion of the city towards this sector, as would also occur during the caliphate, gave rise to a sprawling urban neighborhood centered around this impressive building where spectacles were held. At the end of the century, another enormous ensemble was built in the eastern sector of the city adjacent to the wall. An additional temple presided over an immense square, at the foot of which sat a huge circus. It was a terraced complex built on top of the wall, with the circus outside and the temple inside, clearly corresponding to civic custom, which ultimately consolidated the expansion of the city to the east.8 The urban layout remained unchanged during the 2nd century ce, as no more important constructions were built. However, at the end of the century, the figurative program of the old theater was remodeled to incorporate marble sculptures personifying the empire’s nations. Only the outlying areas of the city, where the opulent suburban houses of the rich were to be found, registered any building activity in the 2nd century ce and the first half of the 3rd century.

2

The End of the Classical City

Public building works reached their height in Roman Cordoba9 in the 1st century ce when all the major building complexes of imperial Cordoba were erected. These large complexes of the early imperial period were mostly built to establish and promote the imperial cult. By increasing the number of squares 7 8 9

Baena, Márquez, and Vaquerizo, Córdoba. Ibid. Márquez, El desarrollo urbano y monumental.

6

márquez and monterroso-checa

covering several city blocks, the movement of goods in their interior could be restricted, as is the case of the square of the Provincial Forum in Merida10 and the Templum Divi Augusti in Cordoba.11 In the 2nd century ce, no major building works were undertaken. In contrast, there was a noticeable change that became much more intense from the 3rd century onwards: domestic buildings that occupied part of the decumanus maximus and the kardo maximus.12 The kardo maximus is a fine example of how these public roads were used for other building works, in this case to construct a public building. In general, however, public buildings gave way to private ones, the main result being that the roads were at times narrowed from a width of 22 meters to 8.9 meters.13 For almost five centuries, Roman Cordoba underwent a series of urban transformations (we can see many of the final results but not the evolution) until the beginning of the al-Andalus period in the 8th century. As a general rule, these transformations had their origins in the devastating effects of an earthquake that occurred around 260–270ce.14 It has been confirmed that around the mid-3rd century ad a series of earthquakes and tsunamis struck Hispania Baetica. However, the strongest one, whose catastrophic effects first alerted experts to the situation and has therefore been most widely studied seismologically, is traditionally identified as the second earthquake that occurred in the port of Baelo Claudia in 260–290 ce.15 Although it was neither the first nor the last time seismic activity affected the city, it was the most destructive. The earthquake damaged the forum and the decumanus maximus, toppling the columns of the basilica and the ceilings of the macellum. The Temple of Isis was also partially destroyed, as well as numerous houses and, above all, the city wall. The devastation the earthquake left in its wake ultimately led to the abandonment of the port and its associated industrial factories. Although part of the city survived, the monumental structures were never restored or rebuilt.16 There is also evidence of similar seismic activity in the second half of the 3rd century ce, which left the Roman city of Flavium Muniguense (Munigua) in ruins.17 The city was located around 250 kilometers in a straight line from 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17

Mateos, El Foro Provincial de Augusta Emerita. Portillo, El Forum Novum de colonia Patricia. Carrasco, Jiménez, and Romero, Intervención arqueológica; Ruiz Bueno, Dinámicas topográficas urbanas en Hispania, 39. Ruiz Bueno, El Kardo Maximus. For the first time in Ventura and Monterroso, Estudio sucinto. Menanteau, Vanney, and Zazo, Baelo ii. Silva et al., Surface and subsurface. Shattner, Breve descripción de la evolución 302.

how an earthquake shaped the foundations of a new city

7

Baelo Claudia in the heart of the sierra of Seville, that is, in a completely different area. Seismological studies have confirmed that the effects reveal evidence of telluric movement.18 Beyond the confines of Andalusia, it has also been suggested that earthquakes occurred during the same period in Carthago Nova,19 Tolmo de Minateda (Hellín, Albacete), and Complutum (Alcalá de Henares, Madrid). Seismologists are inclined to believe that there could have been a seismic crisis in late antiquity, with localized earthquakes that had moderate but destructive effects in the surrounding countryside (M. 5.5–6.0) rather than a more generalized and devastating earthquake such as the one in Lisbon.20 In Cordoba, excavations carried out on the Roman theater revealed evidence of damage due to localized earthquakes.21 First, enormous seven-meter-long fissures were detected in the quaternary bed rock under the stands (figs. 1.3). These fissures, measuring a maximum of 25 centimeters in width, fractured the entire stretch of the axial vomitorium and the steps of the ima cavea. This undoubtedly caused the destruction of the theater, which was split in half at its foundations and became completely impassable. Second, a building that had completely collapsed was discovered in one of the lateral squares at the entrance to the theater (fig. 1.4). It appears as if all the ashlars collapsed at once onto a square that already had some evidence of leveling. The stratigraphic contexts associated with the collapse and ruin of the building provide a chronology of around 260–270ce.22 This has recently been ratified by archaeological studies, which have established a minimum intensity level of nine for the tremor on the esi-07 scale.23 The result of these effects was the progressive pillaging of the theater’s cavea from the late 3rd to the early 5th century.24 Following the pillaging, the space where the theatre stood was completely filled with debris. The final result of this plundering was the formation of two terraces within the theater, or two levels at different heights supported by a retaining wall, built with old materials from the theater. The upper sector housed dwellings dating from the 6th to the 7th centuries ce, which were renovated during the Islamic period. In the lower, much wider

18 19 20 21 22 23 24

Giner et al., Análisis arqueosimológico. Quevedo and Ramallo, La dinámica evolutiva. Silva et al., Los terremotos antiguos 4. Ventura and Monterroso, Estudio sucinto; Monterroso, Ex theatro Cordubensi. Monterroso, Cerámica africana. Morín et al., Evidencias arqueosismológicas 162. Monterroso, La secuencia estratigráfica; Monterroso, El edificio como cantera.

8

figure 1.3

márquez and monterroso-checa

Seven-meter-long fissures detected in the quaternary bed rock under the stands of the Roman Theater © antonio monterroso-checa

how an earthquake shaped the foundations of a new city

9

figure 1.4 A completely collapsed building in one of the lateral squares at the entrance to the theater © ángel ventura-villanueva and antonio monterroso checa

sector, previously channeled springs burst, turning the entire surface area into fertile ground for orchards and kitchen gardens. This landscape in the very center of the city remained uninhabited and vacant throughout late antiquity and even during the caliphate period. It was only in the Almohad period—around the 11th–12th centuries ce—that the area was redeveloped. At that time a small neighborhood organized around a series of streets and ramparts was built on top of the old Roman theater, which was now no longer visible.25 As a result, barely 300 meters in a straight line from the Aljama Mosque, there was a space of land in the walled city center of Cordoba that remained vacant until the 12th century, when land was needed to accommodate the growing urban population. This 12th-century plot of land has survived to the present day. Although evidence of the earthquake in Cordoba was first found in the theater, similar effects have also been observed in other public and private buildings throughout the city. Logically, the specific chronology of all of them cannot be determined. The ceramic contexts associated with the earthquake’s effects do not permit precise dating. In the best of cases, it is only possible to determine an approximate date range of two decades for the ceramic contexts from the second half of the 3rd century ce. Consequently, any chronological differences observed in the literature on Cordoba’s ruined buildings is not due to different processes of abandonment but to the impossibility of dating them

25

Monterroso and Cepillo, La ocupación medieval.

10

márquez and monterroso-checa

figure 1.5 Collapse of a house and tavern directly onto a paved Roman road © patricio soriano

accurately in the context of this seismic phenomenon. If Cordoba did indeed experience a process of general ruin in the second half of the 3rd century ce similar to Baelo Claudia and Munigua, it was due to the effects produced by the earthquakes in Hispania Baetica. Research that does not recognize this connection is simply based on unfounded arguments.26 In the second half of the 3rd century ad, the houses and streets of Cordoba also showed signs of seismic activity. This can be seen in an area barely 100 meters from the theater, where evidence was found of a fire and the collapse of a house and a tavern directly onto a paved Roman road (fig. 1.5).27 Furthermore, as in the case of the theater, it has been confirmed that the ruined materials were later used for minor industrial activities. Just like the mosaic workshops that reused the ancient columns of the theater for tesserae, similar activities have also been documented in this location until the late 4th century ce. In the north as well, just 50 meters from the theater’s façade, thermal baths and houses abruptly collapsed and were left in ruins. The archaeologists who excavated both sites related these effects with those the earthquake caused in

26

27

Based mostly on this broad chronology, a number of researchers have tried unsuccessfully for some years to refute the generally accepted theory that the earthquake had an important impact on the city of Cordoba. For this particular case, see Ruiz Bueno, Actividad sísmica. Soriano, Intervención Arqueológica 451–453.

how an earthquake shaped the foundations of a new city

11

the theater. We believe their assertions to be correct given that, if we examine the urban layout of the area as a whole, it stands to reason that similar data at a distance of barely 50–100 meters cannot be due to different phenomena, no matter how much the ceramics do not coincide “to the year.” Moreover, the houses that were left in ruins could have taken a few more years to collapse or burn down, which may also explain the small differences in the chronology. Other public complexes in the walled city center, such as the Templum Divorum in Claudio Marcelo Street and the Colonial Forum and Templum Divi Augusti in Morería Street, also show effects that must have been produced by the same seismic phenomenon. The ruins of the Templum Divorum were verified as belonging to the late 3rd century. In addition, we know that the lateral porticoes surrounding the temple were already being pillaged in the early 4th century ce. Moreover, it was discovered that statues of figures in togas had been reused to cover water channels.28 The same phenomena occurred again: abandonment in the second half of the 3rd century ce and the reuse of materials, looting, and exploitation in the early 4th century. In the case of the Colonial Forum, earth deposits on paved areas have been dated to the late 3rd century ce and again associated with the earthquake. The same situation occurred in the neighboring Templum Divi Augusti. Excavators and scholars have suggested that the temple collapsed in the late 3rd century; a sign that it had already been abandoned by that date.29 Outside the city walls, the domestic fabric continues to provide evidence of these effects. For example, the western vicus was largely abandoned; a process which began in the second quarter of the 3rd century and culminated in the early 4th century.30 It is also known that the early imperial site of Cercadilla, an enormous residential complex to the west of the city, had to be dismantled around this time to make way for the construction of the enormous tetrarchic complex that would be superimposed on top of it.31 Perhaps the destructive effects of the earthquake were felt there, too. However, it is again a public structure, in this case the city’s impressive Aqua Augusta aqueduct (later known as Vetus Augusta), which offers yet more proof. The channel of the aqueduct presents fractures and transformations that blocked the flow of water, which have, once again, been associated with telluric monuments. Cordoba’s other large aqueduct, the Aqua Nova Domitiana

28 29 30 31

Jiménez, Ruiz, and Moreno, Nuevos avances 124–125. García Benavente and Carrasco, Hallazgos en el n.o 5 169. Vaquerizo and Ruiz Bueno, Últimas investigaciones arqueológicas 24. Moreno, La villa alto imperial de Cercadilla.

12

márquez and monterroso-checa

Augusta functioned until the 4th century.32 This indicates that the city survived during this period with less than half of its water supply, which, in this case, would have been supplied only to the eastern sector. In Cordoba, therefore, it seems clear that public monuments ceased to have a function in the second half of the 3rd century ce. All of them suffered damage during that period, except for the amphitheater, which appears to have survived until the 4th century ce, although perhaps not with the same purpose.33 Just like Baelo Claudia, these public buildings would never be restored. This would seem logical given that neither the oligarchies nor the cities would have been able to recover in such a short space of time. In fact, the area of Cordoba within the walls never returned to its former state. The monuments nourished an artisanal economy that, given the dynamics of a city that had to extract resources from where it could, understandably began to use the discarded materials from the early 4th century. With the exception of the Divorum in Claudio Marcelo Street, the rest were completely demolished and covered with debris from the early 5th century onwards, when most of the city had retreated to the area closest to the river and to the future Aljama Mosque. The late antique walled city of Cordoba was a place where the remaining inhabitants lived among enormous plots of land filled with ruins and vacant lots. This, in addition to the general climate of insecurity due to the situation, may have motivated the renovation, redesign, and reinforcement of the city wall at this time.34 A recent study by Enrique Melchor provides some clues as to the main reasons that might justify the urban transformations that began to take place in Cordoba from the late 3rd century: the earthquake; a shortage of municipal resources to sustain the important monumental ensembles the city had endowed itself with; the lack of funding and scarcity of stable income aggravated by political circumstances, such as the repression of Clodius Albinus’s followers; incursions by the Mauri; and a change in the mentality of the local elite, who stopped investing part of their wealth in euergistic acts.35

32 33 34 35

Ventura and Pizarro, El Aqua Augusta; Pizarro, El abastecimiento de agua a Córdoba. Murillo, El área suburbana occidental. Courault, Les remparts de Cordoue 437. Melchor, Las élites municipales.

how an earthquake shaped the foundations of a new city

3

13

The Civic-Administrative Seat of 4th-Century Cordoba

A Roman city cannot exist without a curia, a basilica, or a temple. The civic, commercial, and religious seats are the basis of a functioning Roman city. Cordoba subsisted as a city and the capital of Hispania Baetica beyond those fateful final years of the 3rd century ce, after which there is no evidence of the restoration or rebuilding of the main public seats. When these seats cease to function in the majority of cities, and there is no longer any public or private funding to maintain them, they move or die. As already mentioned, this is what happened to the old Turdetan Cordoba. However, Roman Cordoba resisted. It resisted without a forum, and with a good part of its urban area in ruins. It did not disappear, nor did the population move. Cordoba also resisted administratively. We believe that this occurred for a fundamental reason. Between 293 and 305 bce, a huge complex was constructed to the west of the city, covering about eight hectares and comprising more than twenty buildings. In other words, it practically spanned the same extension of the public complexes that were in ruins. This was the tetrarchic complex of Cercadilla.36 One of the unresolved dichotomies of Cordoba’s ancient topography is why the seats of civil authority were not rebuilt after the earthquake while a very large complex of public buildings outside the city walls was constructed immediately afterwards. The old seats of civil, commercial, and religious power were abandoned to their fate, while at the same time, barely 400 meters from the wall, an enormous building workshop, which must have had official sponsorship, was established.37 The fact that efforts were not focused on renovating the city but instead on building this new structure is evidenced by the looting of stone materials from the theater to the north of the city in the late 3rd century ce. The ceramic contexts of the first finds and debris from the eastern middle terrace of the theater reveal only African Red Slip C ware, primarily Hayes forms 44, 48, and 50a, together with local productions inspired by the African designs, which clearly date from the late 3rd century.38 These same materials were detected in the construction trench of the cryptoporticus in Cercadilla.39 Therefore, this leads to a clear conclusion: in the same period that material from the theater was being

36 37 38 39

Most recently, Hidalgo, Fue Cercadilla una villa? All the hypotheses regarding the function of the Cercadilla complex point to its official purpose. Hidalgo, Fue Cercadilla una villa? Monterroso, Ex teatro Cordubensi 83–89. Hidalgo and Ventura, Sobre la cronología.

14

márquez and monterroso-checa

plundered in the north, the Cercadilla complex was being built in that same area. This suggests that the Roman authorities considered it more profitable to build a new public seat outside the limits of the walled city and abandon the old public spaces. It is not our intention here to discuss the problematic of the historical interpretation of this exceptional building ensemble, given that other researchers address this topic in other chapters of this book. However, we would like to draw attention to the following three issues: – The Cercadilla complex was organized around a large square preceding a huge basilica and contained a considerable number of public buildings arranged along a cryptoporticus. – The complex was built using material from the city’s demolished buildings, among which the theater and the Templum Divi Augusti can clearly be identified.40 – Cercadilla was the only site west of the city that had running water following the repairs to the Aqua Vetus, which had been damaged by the earthquake.41 There seems to be no doubt that Cercadilla was the foremost and indeed the only public seat of power in the city of Cordoba during that period, as evidenced by its spectacular buildings, the public aqueduct to supply water, and the fact that it was built using materials pillaged from former recreational and administrative buildings. For this to happen, public legislation would have been required, as it would have been impossible for a private individual to carry out work of such magnitude. Clearly, Cercadilla is a public structure built with the remains of other buildings that was financed primarily by the city and Cordoba’s ruling elite. The controversy over the interpretation of Cercadilla has been ongoing for some 30 years. The first explanation, supported primarily by Rafael Hidalgo,42 is that Cercadilla was a palace used by the Emperor Maximian for his African campaigns. The second, suggested by Javier Arce, relates it to a villa under the tutelage of the imperial authorities or the senatorial class. A third interpretation, which is completely inconsistent, is that Cercadilla was an episcopal palace built before 305bce.43 In our opinion, whether the structure was a palace or a villa, it must have assumed the public functions that could no longer be performed in the old buildings within the walled city. Moreover, following the interpretations sug40 41 42 43

Monterroso, Córdoba romana 169–172; Torreras, Un vertedero de material arquitectónico. Ventura and Pizarro, El Aqua Augusta. Hidalgo and Ventura, Sobre la cronología e interpretación. Hidalgo, Fue Cercadilla una villa?

how an earthquake shaped the foundations of a new city

15

gested by Javier Arce (praetorium, seat of the governor of Baetica),44 it must have become the seat where the affairs of the province of Baetica were managed, which had been permanently located in Cordoba since the 1st century ce. We believe that the public complex of Cercadilla helped maintain Cordoba’s status and livelihood as a city and as capital of Hispania Baetica for many years to come. We are unaware, however, whether an emperor ever went there. What is certain is that this huge building complex was the only possible provincial or local seat of authority in an otherwise ruined city.

4

The Roman Configuration of the Iconic Plots of Islamic Cordoba

A pending task for archaeologists in the city of Cordoba is to discover how the progressive establishment of Christianity as the new official religion shaped the city. In this respect, the most important task is to determine the effects of the new episcopal administration, as a religious reference, on the period under analysis. The available archaeological records for this period provide sufficient evidence to suggest that what occurred from the 3rd to the 8th century was the result of a change in the seat of power. In the early imperial period, the Roman seat of power, the Colonial Forum, was located in the upper part of the original enclosure until its activity came to an end in the late 3rd to early 4th century. In turn, in the late imperial period and late antiquity, it seems that the political and religious center of the new city, the seat of the episcopal see, was located in the southern area of the walled enclosure next to the river, the bridge, and the port, which was undoubtedly the site of greatest economic activity in this new period.45 The episcopal palace, the new political seat, was built in an area removed from the political center of the Roman city that had already been completely abandoned and as far away as possible from Cercadilla, which, in theory, was Cordoba’s new administrative seat. However, this was by no means a “marginal” area, as is the case with other “remote” episcopal ensembles.46 In Cordoba, the episcopal palace was located in the very center of the sector between the lower

44 45

46

Arce, Emperadores, palacios y villae. For more on the location and controversial hypotheses, see, for example, Gurt and Sánchez, Episcopal groups in Hispania; Sánchez Ramos, Sobre el grupo episcopal; Sánchez Velasco, La Antigüedad tardía y la época visigoda; Arce, La supuesta basílica; León and Murillo, El complejo civil tardoantiguo. See also Utrero in this publication and Alberto León and Alberto Montejo. Gurt and Sánchez, Episcopal groups in Hispania.

16

márquez and monterroso-checa

part of the city and the river; a highly transited area in the heart of the city’s commercial bustle. This has a coherent logistical and topographical explanation: the monumental complexes of the upper area, like the forum, would have suffered the effects of the earthquake and were therefore not suited to this purpose. Furthermore, in the late 3rd and 4th centuries, a “normal” imperial authority still ruled in Cordoba. The city was still home to decurions and the governor of Hispania Baetica. As a result, the temples in Moreria and Claudio Marcelo streets dedicated to the deified emperors, in addition to the forum (whose capitolium was already dedicated to the deified emperors from time immemorial) were not in any way propitious places to establish the seat of Christian worship at such an early time. As in most cities, the commercial area of the port47 was located far from the primary Roman center, which, in this case, happened to be the most suitable given that it was the only urbanized area in Cordoba not to have been seriously affected by the earthquake. This is also why the episcopal palace was built in the residential area far from the old symbolic Roman center and close to the city’s main commercial roads and only bridge. In fact, the whole city had retreated towards this sector, which is also the lowest area and therefore the most suitable for transporting construction materials from the abandoned Roman buildings. It is also documented that materials pillaged from the nearby Roman theater had been used to construct buildings in this area since the middle of the 4th century.48 The city’s water supply and the removal of solid wastes were other important factors to be taken into account when assessing the suitability of the area. The shortage of water during this period due to the damaged aqueducts had to be remedied with alternative systems, which in the case of Cordoba materialized in the form of wells and water tanks. Of all these systems, one of the largest is preserved to the south of the mosque, with a capacity of around 80 cubic meters and a measurement of six by six meters. This water deposit must have been part of a large building attached to the wall. The rest of the population, especially in the upper area, would have had to resort to wells to obtain the underground water.49 Other problems involved increasing traffic on the roads and the disposal of solid waste, the last of which was solved by the construction of pits, middens, and landfills.50 Moreover, in the upper area, abandoned roads and public 47 48 49 50

León Pastor, Portus Cordubensis. Monterroso, El edificio como cantera. Ruiz Bueno, Captación y almacenamiento de agua 155. Vázquez, Algunas consideraciones acerca 132.

how an earthquake shaped the foundations of a new city

17

spaces, blocked sewers, large depopulated areas, or the appearance of tombs inside the walled enclosure became much more evident. However, work to build new sewers was only undertaken in the southern area, the seat of the new power.51 The mosque and its surroundings were built in the old commercial and storage area near the river. This sector of the city was unwalled until the end of the 1st century ad, when it was enclosed. There is not enough data to interpret what stood under the mosque in Roman times.52 The best trace of the Roman period is the material reused in the construction of the Aljama Mosque.53 Although it is generally accepted that all the material came from Cordoba, the public buildings and the city in general had already been plundered and leveled by the 5th century. Therefore, it does not seem very likely that a sufficient number of houses or urban structures were left standing in Cordoba to supply the mosque with so many and such a wide variety of columns and capitals. The most reasonable assumption is that most of the material did not come from Cordoba, and that the mosque was built from the remains of several cities in its symbolic aspiration to become the new global and ecumenical center. As mentioned above, it has been suggested that there were three Roman roads under the mosque, although there is no evidence to support this claim.54 The excavation of the mosque’s interior has revealed remains and structures dating from the 5th century, which critics have identified as belonging to the church of the episcopal complex.55 In contrast, a large building was excavated in the courtyard during the lifetime of Félix Hernandez, which has been linked to the atrium of the episcopal building.56 These structures were already built on top of the old, leveled Roman city, which was in complete decay by this time57 and whose traces were already unrecognizable in this sector of the city. Although evidence of public buildings in this sector is lacking, there may have been a network of domus near the port that served as the foundation for the later episcopal complex, as was customary in early Christianity. Cordoba’s first cathedral and, of course, the Great Mosque stood on the same site. Later,

51 52 53 54 55 56 57

Ruiz Bueno, Dinámicas topográficas urbanas en Hispania 44. Bermúdez, El atrium del complejo episcopal 316–321. Peña, Estudio de la decoración 135–167. Bermúdez, El atrium del complejo episcopal 316–321. Sánchez Ramos, Sobre el grupo episcopal. Bermúdez, El atrium del complejo episcopal 316–321. Sánchez Ramos, La desfiguración de la ciudad clásica.

18

márquez and monterroso-checa

two more cathedrals would be built, one in the early Middle Ages and another in the Renaissance. Consequently, three cathedrals and four mosques in one— all on the same site—undoubtedly constitute one of the most universal, sacred spaces in the entire history of architecture.

Bibliography Arce, F., La supuesta basílica de San Vicente en Córdoba: de mito histórico a obstinación historiográfica, in Al Qantara 36 (2015), 11–44. Arce, J., Emperadores, palacios y villae (A propósito de la villa romana de Cercadilla, Córdoba), in Antiquité Tardive 5 (1997), 293–302. Baena, M.D., C. Márquez, and D. Vaquerizo (eds.), Córdoba reflejo de Roma, Cordoba 2011. Bermúdez, J.M., El atrium del complejo episcopal cordubensis. Una propuesta sobre la funcionalidad de las estructuras tardoantiguas del patio de la Mezquita de Córdoba, in Romula 9 (2010), 315–341. Carrasco, I., A. Jiménez, and J. Romero, Intervención arqueológica de urgencia en un solar sito en la calle Tomás Conde número 8 esquina a calleja de Villaceballos de Córdoba, in Anuario Arqueológico de Andalucía 1997 (2001), 188–198. Courault, Ch., Les remparts de Cordoue. Une investigation archéologique depuis l’Atiquité jusqu’à l’époque médiévale, Cordoba 2017. García Benavente, R., and I. Carrasco, Hallazgos en el n.º 5 de la calle Morería y nuevo espacio público de Colonia Patricia, in Anales de Arqueología Cordobesa 15 (2004), 145–172. García Fernández, E., Estrabón (iii 2, 1) y la fundación de Córdoba. Una nueva propuesta de interpretación, in Chiaba M. (ed.), Hoc Quoque Laboris Praemium, Scritti in onore di Gino Bandelli, Trieste 2014, 173–182. Giner, J.L., T. Bardaji, M.A. Rodríguez, P.G. Silva, E. Roquero, J. Elez, M.A. Perucha, R. Baena, I. Guerrero, J.J. Fernández, R. Pérez, and E. Rodríguez, Análisis arqueosismológico del conjunto arqueológico romano de Mulva-Munigua (Sevilla, España). Resultados preliminares, in Geo-Temas 16 (2016), 605–608. Gurt, J.M. and I. Sánchez, Episcopal groups in Hispania, in Oxford journal of archaeology 30 (2011), 273–298. Hidalgo, R., Fue Cercadilla una villa? El problema de la función del complejo de Cercadilla en Corduba, in Archivo Español de Arqueología 78 (2014), 217–241. Hidalgo, R., and A. Ventura, Sobre la cronología e interpretación del palacio de Cercadilla en Corduba, in Chiron 24 (1994), 221–240. Jiménez, J.L., M.D. Ruiz, and M. Moreno, Nuevos avances en el conocimiento sobre el urbanismo de Colonia Patricia Corduba en el sector ocupado por el templo romano, in Anales de Arqueología Cordobesa 7 (1996), 115–139.

how an earthquake shaped the foundations of a new city

19

León, A., and J.F. Murillo, El complejo civil tardoantiguo de Córdoba y su continuidad en el Alcázar Omeya, in Madrider Mitteilungen 49 (2009), 323–335. León Pastor, E., La secuencia cultural de la Corduba prerromana a través de sus complejos cerámicos, Cordoba 2007. León Pastor, E., Portus Cordubensis, in Anejos de anales de arqueología cordobesa 2, Cordoba, 2009–2010, 45–72. Márquez, C., El desarrollo urbano y monumental, in J.F. Rodríguez Neila (ed.), La ciudad y sus legados históricos. Córdoba romana, Cordoba 2017, 207–248. Mateos, P. (ed.), El Foro Provincial de Augusta Emerita: un conjunto monumental de culto imperial (Anejos de AEspA 52), Mérida 2006. Melchor, E., Historia de la Córdoba romana desde su fundación hasta el advenimiento del Principado, in J.F. Rodríguez Neila (ed.), La ciudad y sus legados históricos. Córdoba romana, Cordoba 2017, 27–50. Melchor, E., Las élites municipales y los inicios de la crisis del urbanismo monumental en el Occidente romano: algunas consideraciones, con especial referencia a Hispania, in Latomus 77 (2018), 416–440. Menanteau, L., J.R. Vanney, and C. Zazo, Belo ii: Belo et son environment (Détroit de Gibraltar), Etude physique d’un site antique (Publications de la Casa de Velázquez, Serie Archeologie 4), Paris 1983. Moreno Almenara, M., La villa alto imperial de Cercadilla (Córdoba): análisis arqueológico, Cordoba 1998. Monterroso, A., Cerámica africana en Colonia Patricia: Aportaciones a partir de la estratigrafía del teatro romano de Córdoba, La Terraza Media Oriental, in Romula 1 (2002), 187–224. Monterroso, A., El edificio como cantera. Historia de un saqueo, in A. Ventura, C. Márquez, A. Monterroso, and M.A. Carmona (eds.), El teatro romano de Córdoba, Cordoba 2002, 147–160. Monterroso, A., La secuencia estratigráfica. Evolución histórica del teatro de Colonia Patricia, in A. Ventura, C. Márquez, A. Monterroso, and M.A. Carmona (eds.), El teatro romano de Córdoba, Cordoba 2002, 133–146. Monterroso, A., Ex teatro Cordubensi. La vida del monumento y la producción de cerámica en el valle del Baetis, Cordoba 2005. Monterroso, A., Córdoba romana, Historiografía abierta sobre arquitectura y urbanismo, in Antiquitas 23 (2011), 149–174. Monterroso, A., and J.J. Cepillo, La ocupación medieval, in A. Ventura, C. Márquez, A. Monterroso, and M.A. Carmona (eds.), El teatro romano de Córdoba, Cordoba 2002, 161–172. Morín, J., P.G. Silva, M.A. Rodríguez, and I. Sánchez, Evidencias arqueosismológicas en la colonia Patricia romana de Córdoba (Valle del Guadalquivir, España), in ii Reunión Ibérica sobre Fallas Activas y Paleosismología, Lorca 2014, 159–162.

20

márquez and monterroso-checa

Murillo, J.F., Nuevos trabajos arqueológicos en Colina de los Quemados: el sector del teatro de la Axerquía (Parque Cruz Conde, Córdoba), in Anuario Arqueológico de Andalucía 1992 3 (1995), 188–199. Murillo Redondo, J.F., Qurtuba califal. Origen y desarrollo de la capital omeya de alAndalus, in Awraq 7 (2013), 81–104. Murillo Redondo, J.F., et al., El área suburbana occidental de Córdoba a través de las excavaciones en el anfiteatro, in D. Vaquerizo and J.F. Murillo Redondo (eds.), El Anfiteatro Romano de Córdoba y su entorno urbano. Análisis Arqueológico (ss. i–xiii d.C.) (MgAC 19), vol. 1, Cordoba 2010, 99–310. Peña, A., Estudio de la decoración arquitectónica romana y análisis del reaprovechamiento de material en la Mezquita Aljama de Córdoba, Cordoba 2010. Pizarro, G., El abastecimiento de agua a Córdoba. Arqueología e Historia, Cordoba 2014. Portillo Gómez, A., El Forum Novum de colonia Patricia. Análisis arquitectónico, estilístico y funcional. Anejos de AEspA 83, Madrid 2018. Quevedo, A., and S.F. Ramallo, La dinámica evolutiva de Carthago Nova entre los siglos ii y iii, in L. Brassous and A. Quevedo (eds.), Urbanisme civique en temps de crise. Les espaces publics d’Hispanie et de l’Occident romain entre les iie et ive s (Collection de la Casa de Velázquez 149), Madrid 2015, 161–177. Ruiz Bueno, M.D., El Kardo Maximus de Córdoba en la Antigüedad Tardía, in Anales de Arqueología Cordobesa 25–26 (2014–2015), 83–114. Ruiz Bueno, M.D., Actividad sísmica en el mediodía ibéricco durante el siglo iii d. C. La incidencia arqueológica en Corduba (Córdoba), in Pyrenae 48 (2017), 29–51. Ruiz Bueno, M.D., Captación y almacenamiento de agua en el espacio intramuros de Córdoba (siglos iii–vii): nuevas reflexiones, in Antesteria 6 (2017), 149–163. Ruiz Bueno, M.D., Dinámicas topográficas urbanas en Hispania. El espacio intramuros entre los siglos ii y vii d.C. Bari 2018. Sánchez Ramos, I., Sobre el grupo episcopal de Corduba, in Pyrenae 40 (2009), 121–147. Sánchez Ramos, I., La desfiguración de la ciudad clásica. Los nuevos espacios de Corduba en la Antigüedad Tardía, in M.D. Baena, C. Márquez, and D. Vaquerizo (eds.), Córdoba reflejo de Roma, Cordoba 2011, 102–109. Sánchez Velasco, J., La Antigüedad tardía y la época visigoda, in J.F. Rodríguez Neila (ed.), La ciudad y sus legados históricos. Córdoba romana, Cordoba 2017, 313–369. Shattner, T., Breve descripción de la evolución urbanística de Munigua desde sus comienzos hasta la época tardoantigua, in D. Vaquerizo, J.A. Garriguet, and A. León (eds.), Ciudad y territorio: transformaciones materiales e ideológicas entre época clásica y el altomedioevo (Monografías de Arqueología cordobesa 20), Córdoba 2014, 293– 308. Silva, P., et al., Surface and subsurface paleosismic records at the recent Roman city of Baelo Claudia and the Bolonia Bay área. Cádiz (south Spain), in Geological society, special publications (2009), 93–121.

how an earthquake shaped the foundations of a new city

21

Silva P., et al., Los terremotos antiguos del conjunto arqueológico romano de Baelo Claudia (Cádiz, Sur de España): Quince años de investigación arqueosismológica, in Estudios Geológicos 72 (2016), 1–26. Soriano, P.J., Intervención Arqueológica de Urgencia en el antiguo conventodel Corpus Christi (futura Fundación Gala) de Córdoba, in Anuario Arqueológico de Andalucía 2000 3 (2003), 447–456. Torreras, S., Un vertedero de material arquitectónico romano en el antiguo Cuartel de San Rafael (Córdoba), in Anales de Arqueología Cordobesa 20, 461–482. Vaquerizo, D., and M.D. Ruiz Bueno, Últimas investigaciones arqueológicas en Corduba colonia Patricia; una propuesta de síntesis, in M. Martín Bueno and C. Sanz Preciado (eds.), Monografías Arqueológicas 49 (2014), 15–31. Vázquez Navajas, B., Algunas consideraciones acerca del abastecimiento y la evacuación de agua en la Córdoba Tardoantigua, in Monografías de Arqueología Cordobesa 20 (2014), 121–136. Ventura, A., and A. Monterroso, A Estudio sucinto de la Campaña de excavación 1998– 2000 en el Teatro Romano de Córdoba, in Anuario Arqueológico de Andalucía (2000), 427–446. Ventura, A., and G. Pizarro, El Aqua Augusta (acueducto de Valdepuentes) y el abastecimiento de agua a Colonia Patricia Corduba: investigaciones recientes (2000–2010), in Las técnicas y las construcciones en la ingeniería romana. v congreso de las obras públicas romanas (Fundación de la Ingeniería Técnica de Obras), Madrid 2010, 177– 203.

chapter 2

Rich Corduba on the Quiet Baetis: Politics, Society, and Economy in a Hispanic Provincial Capital between the 3rd and 5th Centuries Sabine Panzram

Almost no-one could withstand its riches: neither emperors, nor governors, nor a victor like Septimius Severus. The temptation was simply too strong. In 33 ce, Emperor Tiberius confiscated the lead, copper, silver, and gold mines of Sextus Marius, the richest man in Spain, who had fallen out of favor.1 The emperor had accused him of incest with his daughter and ordered him to be thrown off the Tarpeian Rock, although the charge of incest was the result of persecutions that Marius’s daughter suffered at the hands of Tiberius himself. In any case, the emperor kept Marius’s gold and silver mines, which should have gone to the treasury, for his own purposes. Caecilius Classicus, governor of the Baetica in 97/98 ce,2 wrote an amicula from there to Rome: “I’ll be coming to you debt free—I’ve already pocketed four million sesterces by selling half of Baetica.”3 But he had counted his chickens before they hatched: as Pliny relates, the entire province turned on Classicus and continued to insist on the de repetundis process even after he had taken his own life. Indeed, Pliny and Lucceius Albinus, the province’s representatives, managed to convict the proconsul and his accomplices in an “endless” process.4 Septimius Severus, who in 197 ce had emerged as the victor in the civil wars, had Mummius Secundinus, who produced oil on his territories by the Baetis (Guadalquivir) River in the figlina Ceparia and shipped it to Rome,5 executed without a trial, confiscated his fortune, and seized it on behalf of the aerarium Saturni.6 1 Tacitus, Annals 6,19,1; Cassius Dio, Roman history 58, 22, 2–3—Remesal Rodríguez, De emperador a depredador 217–227, esp. 221–223. 2 Pliny, Letters 3, 9, 2–6; on this see Sherwin-White, The Letters of Pliny. A Historical and Social Commentary, 56–62 and 230–238. 3 Pliny, Letters 3, 9, 13. 4 Pliny, Letters 3, 9, 22, compare also 6, 29—Guichard, Sénat de Rome et concilium de Bétique 31–54; González Román, El proceso de Caecilius Classicus 179–201. 5 Scriptores historiae Augustae, Septimius Severus 13, 1; on this, see Alföldy, Septimius Severus und der Senat 112–160, esp. 120 and 148; Remesal Rodríguez, Las confiscaciones de Severo en la Bética 195–221. 6 Scriptores historiae Augustae, Septimius Severus 12, 1–3.

© Sabine Panzram, 2023 | doi:10.1163/9789004524156_003

rich corduba on the quiet baetis (3rd–5th centuries)

23

The Baetis had given the region its name, and its “peculiar beauty” had allowed Baetica to surpass all other provinces.7 The Marianus mountain ridges that stretched out upriver in the north were rich in lead, copper, silver and gold mines, and made Corduba the decus auiferae terrae; the south was distinguished by abundantly fertile estates.8 The quality of the olive oil and the sheep wool were legendary: the poet Martial, born in Bilbilis (Calatayud), envisioned the hair of the river god decorated with a crown of olive branches, and spoke of the fleece that dyed the gleaming water of the Baetis golden.9 These natural resources made the wealth of the province and its capital seem inexhaustible; it was the economic foundation of the individual wealth of Corduba’s inhabitants, as well as the source of their political agency—and a perennial reason for covetousness from every corner. During his rule, Augustus had granted the city juridical privileges while reorganizing the Hispanic provinces. This produced a construction boom, leading to a city that was expanded and restructured, as the Cordoban inhabitants redesigned all of their neighborhoods in a virtually programatic and monumental manner, until the end of the Julian-Claudian dynasty, Corduba had gained a distinctive profile, which would remain substantially unchanged in the following centuries. Every neighborhood had a prestigious square complex at its center, dominated by a temple supplemented by further sacral elements (as in the case of the vicus Forensis). Or its foundation walls lent it a calculated, forced perspective, as with the “templo de la calle Claudio Marcelo,” along whose x-axis also lay a circus. The theater was situated in the midst of an entire ensemble of squares.10 Portraits, sculptures, and imperial and honorific statues filled the square complex, gardens, temples and theaters. The prospering and flourishing provincial capital gleamed with marble. Italic peoples, veterans, and the members of the local and regional elite had here modelled themselves on the “Roman Way of Life.” On the one hand, their thankfulness towards the perpetua cura of Rome, which they expressed by gifting Augustus with a 100-

7

8

9 10

Strabo, Geography 3, 2, 1 (C 141); Pliny, Natural history 3, 7—Abad Casal, El Guadalquivir, vía fluvial romana; Chic-García, La navegación por el Guadalquivir entre Córdoba y Sevilla en época romana. Ptolemy, Geography 2, 4, 15; Silius Italicus, Punica 3, 401, 16, 468–470; compare Pliny, Natural history 34, 4 to the copper mines in the Sierra Morena; to today’s Campiña or Vega; Strabo, Geography 3, 2, 3 (C 142). Martial, Epigrams 12, 98, 1–2; compare 12, 63, 1–5; as well as 1, 96, 5; 5, 37, 7; 8, 28, 6; 9, 61, 3; 12, 65, 5 and 14, 133. Panzram, Stadtbild und Elite: Tarraco, Corduba und Augusta Emerita zwischen Republik und Spätantike, 129–225; Ventura Villanueva et al., El teatro romano de Córdoba; Dupré i Raventós, Las capitales provinciales de Hispania vol. i: Córdoba.

figure 2.1 Corduba in the imperial period with the most important public buildings city map: courtesy of maría del camino fuertes santos

24 panzram

rich corduba on the quiet baetis (3rd–5th centuries)

25

pound personification of Baetica made of pure gold on the occasion of the conferral of the pater patriae title,11 had in the long term promoted the municipal as well as the provincial cult of the emperor, which was accompanied by the formal adoption of the architectural models of the capital cities.12 On the other hand, it had advanced the Baeticians’ integration into the ordo equester and the ordo senatorius.13 Their share in the peregrine clans of Rome and their presence in the imperial aristocracy were not insignificant, though only a few reached the level of renown enjoyed by Seneca, the philosopher and tutor of Nero.14 Corduba’s balance between economic base, social design, and political significance is undisputed for the first two centuries ce. The Historia Augusta delivers the dictum that all provinces flourished during the ruling period of Antoninus Pius,15 and this applies not only to Baetica in general but to the provincial capital in particular. In 171 as well as in 177 ce, it was even spared from the invasions of the so-called Mauri, whose route remains just as unknown as their motives, the organizational degree of their troupes, or the course of the battle.16 Corduba’s luck stands in stark contrast to the fates of cities such as Singilia Barba (Antequera) and Italica (Sevilla—Santiponce).17 But what about the period from the 3rd to the 5th century? The 3rd century in this region is traditionally judged as “crisis-like,” in line with the crisis that enveloped the entire empire. The 4th century is treated as all but nonexistent thanks to its uneventfulness, and by the beginning of the 5th century the world seemed to have reached its end, as “barbarians were raging through Hispania”: the invasion of the Suebi, Vandals, and Alans brought with it such destruction that a contemporary such as Hydatius, the bishop of Aquae Flaviae (Chaves) reckoned that the days of the apocalypse had arrived.18 What effects did these events have on a provincial capital such as Corduba—on its political status, its society, and 11 12 13

14

15 16 17 18

cil vi 4, 2 31267; on this see Alföldy, Zu den Monumenten der römischen Provinzen auf dem Augustusforum 226–235. Ventura Villanueva, Reflexiones sobre la arquitectura y advocación del templo de la calle Morería 215–237. See for example the contributions in Caballos Rufino, Del municipio a la corte. La renovación de las élites romanas; Caballos Rufino and Melchor Gil, De Roma a las provincias: Las élites como instrumento de proyección de Roma. Alföldy, Zur Präsenz hispanischer Senatoren in Rom 69–91; des Boscs-Plateaux, Un parti hispanique à Rome? Ascension des élites hispaniques et pouvoir politique d’Auguste à Hadrien. Scriptores historiae Augustae, Antoninus Pius 7, 2. Scriptores historiae Augustae, Marcus Aurelius 21, 1.—Arce, Inestabilidad política en Hispania durante el siglo ii d.C., 33–52; Alföldy, Spain 444–461, here 459f. cil ii2/5, 783; cil ii 1120. Hydatius, Chronicle 16, 82.

26

panzram

its economic background? Were its integration in the patria communis, its participation in the romanitas, and the belief in the power of the gods proven as viable, identity-giving constituents? The extremely fragmentary character of all categories of sources in this period makes giving an answer a challenge; instead, we are left searching for traces, able to produce no more than a sketch of these three indivisibly interwoven fields.

1

Politics: “There Where Wealthy Corduba Loves the Rich Baetis”19

At the beginning of the 2nd century, coloniae were considered “small replicas” of the amplitudo and maiestas of the populi Romani.20 In Baetica, politics related to Rome meant the interplay of different discourses: first and foremost that of the governor, who with his officials and army represented the emperor to the provincials;21 then that of the elite, who occupied the key positions of the socioeconomic relationship network and the prestigious offices of the provincial capital or the concilium provinciae; and finally, the communication between the periphery and the center. The Cordobans had minted coins with the portrait of Augustus to commemorate his stay during the administrative reorganization of the Hispanic provinces brought about by the settlement of veterans on their territory.22 The emperor himself had presumably ordered the construction of a stone bridge over the Baetis and financed an aqueduct.23 Corduba’s designation as the provincial capital and Baetica’s thankfulness, which from that point on decorated the metropolitan forum of Augustus as a golden titulus, allow us to infer that both the action and the reaction were rendered in adequate form.24 Yet this harmony seems to have been disturbed as early as the reign of Tiberius. In 25ce, the emperor rejected the request of a delegation from Hispania Ulterior to be granted permission to erect a temple for Tiberius and his mother, as had

19 20 21 22

23

24

Martial, Epigrams 9, 61, 1–2: In Tartesiacis domus est notissima terris, / qua dives placidum Corduba Baetin amat. Aulus Gellius, Attic nights 16, 13, 9. cil ii2/7, 289–290a; cil ii2/7, 287–288; Pliny, Letters 10, 18, 2. Burnett, Amandry, and Ripollès, Roman provincial coinage, vol. 1: From the death of Caesar to the death of Vitellius, nº 127 and 129; on this see Chaves Tristán, La Córdoba hispanoromana y sus monedas 89–122. Stylow, Apuntes sobre el urbanismo de la Corduba romana 259–282, here 263f.; Ventura Villanueva, El abastecimiento de agua a la Córdoba romana, vol. 1: El acueducto de Valdepuentes. cil vi 4,2 31267.

rich corduba on the quiet baetis (3rd–5th centuries)

27

been done in Asia.25 He also used the previously mentioned excuse to confiscate all mines owned by the Cordoban Sextus Marius and added their gold and silver to his private wealth.26 Yet the provincials also knew how to defend themselves against such attacks, as shown by the successful de repetundis case against the governor Caecilius Classicus under Trajan.27 In any case, in light of the province’s abundant natural resources and wealth, it is surprising that Augustus’s visit was not followed by any other imperial visits to Corduba; while Hadrian did visit Tarraco (Tarragona),28 the only record of his that has been preserved is an edict in the Digest, in response to an enquiry by the provincial legislative assembly of Baetica, in which he gives detailed instructions on the punishment of livestock thieves.29 The 3rd century and the first half of the 4th do not seem to have brought any fundamental changes to the relationship between the center and the periphery. The proscriptions of Septimus Severus had longer lasting effects than the imperial crisis: they targeted “many noble residents of Hispania and Gallia,” including large-scale landowners like Mummius Secundinus,30 while there is no evidence of military threat, pillaging, or the destruction of cities and villas in this region. If city walls were repaired and fortified—as in the case of Corduba—this was more out of a general feeling of insecurity.31 No further communication seems to have taken place about the dedication of imperial statues on both of the city’s square complexes.32 However, these were no longer dedicated only by the res publica Cordubensium or the Baetican province, but also by officials of the imperial administration.33 Presumably, therefore, the city was forced to accept Rome’s interventions in its administration. In fact, towards the end of the 3rd century, in the northern suburb of Corduba, a monumental estate—Cercadilla—developed.

25 26 27 28 29 30 31

32 33

Tacitus, Annals 4, 37, 1 and 38, 4. Tacitus, Annals 6, 19, 1; Cassius Dio, Roman history 58, 22, 2–3. Pliny, Letters 3, 9, 2–6; 13; 22. Scriptores historiae Augustae, Hadrianus 12, 3–5. Digest 47,14,1, 787–788. Scriptores historiae Augustae, Septimius Severus 12, 1–3; 13, 1. Ruiz Bueno and Vaquerizo Gil, Las murallas como paradigma urbano. Investigación y diacronia en Corduba (ss. ii–vii d. C.) 163–192; compare Witschel, Hispania en el siglo iii 473–503; Brassous, Les enceintes urbaines tardives de la péninsule Ibérique 275–299. cil ii2/7, 255–258. cil ii2/7, 259; cil ii2/7, 261; cil ii2/7, 263–266.

28

figure 2.2 Cercadilla layout: courtesy of rafael hidalgo prieto

panzram

rich corduba on the quiet baetis (3rd–5th centuries)

29

Its architectural design as unicum suggests that its construction was led by Rome, not by a rich landowner: it was either used as a palatium for Maximianus Herculius, as litterae aureae may suggest, or as a praetorium of Baetica’s governor, or the seat of Ossius, bishop of Corduba, during these decades.34 In view of such an investment, it is all the more astonishing that Corduba evidently lost its capital city status to Hispalis (Sevilla) in the 4th century, under Constantius ii, in the course of Baetica’s conversion from a provincia praesidialis to a consularis.35 This change evidently contributed to the conversion not only of most of the public buildings, but even of the city’s former landmark, the “Templo de la calle Claudio Marcelo,” with its calculated forced perspective, at the end of the century: it was now put to “private” use.36 This forces the impression that the local elite was not only uninterested in the prestigious design of the urban space, but also no longer required it for the more comprehensive functions of public life. Although the Suebi, Vandals, and Alans invaded at the beginning of the 5th century, Corduba does not seem to have felt the presence of the barbari until the 540s: no destructions or burnt layers are identifiable before this point, although the construction of a fortress against the city wall in the harbor area does seem to suggest a need for defensive measures.37 In 550, Visigoth Agila attacked the city but did not succeed in conquering it, as the martyr Acisclus, whose grave he had defiled, allegedly made certain that he received his just deserts.38 His “power” points to another discourse—that of the church—which would prove decisive in politicis à la longue.

34

35

36

37

38

Hidalgo Prieto, ¿Fue Cercadilla una villa? El problema de la función del complejo de Cercadilla 217–241; Brühlmann, ‘Die feinen Unterschiede’: Zur suburbanen Anlage von Cercadilla und ihrer Stellung innerhalb der spätantiken Villen- und Palastarchitektur 465–491; Marfil Ruiz, Corduba de Teodosio a Abd al-Rahmán iii, 117–141. Arce, Emperadores, palacios y villae (A propósito de la villa romana de Cercadilla, Corduba) 293–302, esp. 293–296; and Arce, Los gobernadores de la dioecesis Hispaniarum (ss. iv–v d.C.), 73–83, here 75. Murillo Redondo et al. La transición de la civitas clásica cristianizada a la madina islámica, 501–547; Ruiz Bueno, Dinámicas topográficas urbanas en Hispania. El espacio intramuros entre los siglos ii y vii d.C. León Muñoz and Murillo Redondo, El complejo civil tardoantiguo de Córdoba y su continuidad en el Alcázar Omeya, 323–335; see also the contributions of Arce, El siglo v en Galia e Hispania 66–77; and Kulikowski, The urban landscape in Hispania in the fifth century 310–318. Isidore, History of the Goths, Vandals and Suevi 45–46.

30 2

panzram

Society: “Eloquent Corduba Speaks of Both Senecas and the Peerless Lucan”39

Both sets of people—those who decided to spend their lives in Corduba and those who were determined to leave the city by the Baetis and go to Rome—had their reasons. Some of them—like Seneca or Lucan—came upon members of their family network when they arrived in the imperial capital and were later joined by further relatives; some had been led by ambitio or the necessity of an officium publicum; others by luxuria, the desire for education or the games; and some by amicitia or business acumen, as Seneca explains.40 In the decades of the so-called “formative period,”41 parallel to the program of new building and reconstruction of the cityscape, Corduba produced knights and senators— including the Annaei, Iunii, and Dillii—numbering more than at any other point in its history.42 Yet Corduba’s contribution to the imperial aristocracy in the imperial period did not end here, and it continued to play a prominent role in the process of integrating the leading families in Baetica. Generally, Corduba’s social structure can only be grasped in a piecemeal way: the findings stem largely from the period between the waning 1st century and the start of the 3rd century ce. Thanks to honorific statues and further inscriptions, our records mostly concern the occupants of urban offices and the provincial position of flamen. The office of the provincial head priest, the flamen Divorum Augustorum provinciae Baeticae, who was tasked with demonstrating the province’s veneration of the goddess Roma, the consecrated rulers, and the reigning Augustus through worship, and with arranging the related games such as chariot races, was considered one of the most important posts that the province could assign to one of its own.43 Approximately 24 flamines 39 40 41 42 43

Martial, Epigrams 1, 61, 7–8: duosque Senecas unicumque Lucanum / facunda loquitur Corduba. Seneca, Dialogues 12, 6, 2–3. This fitting description originated with Woolf, The formation of Roman provincial cultures 9–18. Panzram, Stadtbild und Elite: Tarraco, Corduba und Augusta Emerita zwischen Republik und Spätantike, 165–166, 220–225, and 321. On this and in the following: Delgado Delgado, Élites y organización de la religión en las provincias romanas de la Bética y las Mauritanias 41–52; Fishwick, The imperial cult in the Latin West. Studies in the ruler cult of the western provinces of the Roman Empire, vol. 3: Provincial cult, part 2: The provincial priesthood, 215–247; Fishwick, The imperial cult in the Latin West. Studies in the ruler cult of the western provinces of the Roman Empire, vol. 3: Provincial cult, part 3: The provincial centre; provincial cult 71–104; Panzram, Zur Interaktion zwischen Rom und den Eliten im Westen des Imperium: Hispanien, Nordafrika und Gallien 368–396.

the role of culture in a world in transition

81

war and lost there his son, who was killed together with a large part of the army, and also lost the whole treasure with its renowned riches.5 The episodes following the profanation involving Agila are full of unfortunate events, viewed by Isidore as the inevitable consequence of the king’s bad deeds. Doubtless, the profanation of the tomb should be considered as an attack against one of the most distinguishing traits of the Hispano-Roman community of Cordoba, in this case of a religious nature. This is even more evident when bearing in mind the political-religious tensions underlying the relations among the Visigothic elites at the end of the 6th century, particularly the rebellion of Hermenegild, son of King Leovigild, with whom he was at loggerheads.6 This rebellion was behind Leovigild’s dual conquest of Cordoba in 570 and 582. Reluctance to fall under Visigoth influence during the 6th century most certainly had its religious motivations, exacerbated by both the Visigoths’ profession of the Arian creed and the Byzantines’ closeness to Monophysitism, and was intimately related to the fact that the leadership of the urban community was in the hands of the Catholic episcopate.7 It should be recalled that the election of bishops by co-option helped important members of the elites to rise to the top of the social ladder, thus allowing them to consolidate their group interests while dictating the fate of the rest of the community.8

5 Isidore of Seville, History of the Goths 45, cited in Donini and Ford, Isidore of Seville’s History of the kings of the Goths, Vandals, and Suevi 22. See also Gregory of Tours, History of the Francs 6.43. 6 In spite of having apparently been motivated by religious concerns, Hermenegild is portrayed as a traitor and not as a martyr. This is especially telling when taking into account that the sources referring to the story were written after the conversion of the Visigoth king to Catholicism, which makes it incomprehensible that such a magnificent opportunity to create a relevant figure for the Catholic cause was missed. The political fides, conspicuous by its absence in this account, was unquestionably more important than the religious element. To this should be added the fact that Reccared participate in the death of his own brother, a dark chapter in the king’s career; Thompson, Los godos en España 81; García Moreno, Andalucía durante la Antigüedad tardía 305. Furthermore, it is odd that Hermenegild, dux Baeticae, was considered a usurper when his uprising was limited to the area with whose government his father had entrusted him, as can be seen in John of Biclar’s Crónica a. 573, 5 and a. 579, 2; Calson, Regionalism in Visigothic Spain 166. 7 See Castillo, El cristianismo y las iglesias del sur peninsular 292. 8 Some of the most significant examples of the power consolidation process of these elites include, in addition to the well-known family of Leander and Isidore of Seville, Bishops Nibridius of Terrasa, Elpidius of Huesca, Justinian of Valencia, and Justus of Urgell, all brothers and regarded by Isidore of Seville as nobilissimi; Isidore of Seville, On illustrious men 21. On this aspect, Orlandis’s study (Una familia episcopal 61–68) is noteworthy. From Justus we have an epistle (see primary sources). On the other hand, the epitaph of Justinian, included

82

sánchez-medina

Admittedly, irrespective of the importance of the religious factor in the dispute between Cordoba and King Agila, the transformation of urban and periurban areas had already become a tangible reality that presaged new spheres of power and also conflict, as would be the case with the basilica of St. Acisclus the martyr.9 This strongly fortified building, located to the west of the city— outside its walls—in use at least until the Arab-Berber conquest,10 must have formed part of this new topography of power more than any other in Cordoba during the 6th, 7th, and 8th centuries.11 The arrival of new Germanic gentes at the beginning of the 5th century would only accelerate the progressive decline of Roman power, meaning, in turn, greater independence for territories such as those of the Baetica province where, except for Hispalis, the majority of the cities evaded the recently established and precarious Gothic supremacy during the 5th century, until the reign of Leovigild.12 At that moment it is possible to observe actions clearly aimed at controlling the interior of Western Baetica, an area in which Cordoba must have played a prominent role, but about which there is practically no information.

1

Knowledge, Past, and Transformation

The urban make-up of late Western cities was, to a great extent, new, not only due to the location of their most distinctive buildings but also because of their relationship with space. In the cultural realm, in contrast, late antiquity gladly

9

10 11 12

in the Anthologia Hispana, provides us with a piece of information that, undoubtedly, has a bearing on this chapter dedicated to the role of culture in the Visigoth period, for it states that, “he writes about many useful things for later times” (scripsit plura posteris profutura [seclis]; cil ii 14, 89, lin. 6), the literary facet of these bishops being instrumental at the time, as will be seen further on. In relation to the resistance offered by the city of Cordoba and its elites, see García Moreno, Transformaciones de la Bética 434–441. In all likelihood, this fact contributed to paving the way to the conflicts arising after Leovigild’s time, in which the role played by the elites of Baetica province would be more than noteworthy; Castillo, Católicos bajo dominio arriano 139–169. See Sánchez Velasco, La Antigüedad tardía y la época visigoda 327. Concerning the basilica’s capture by the Arab-Berbers, see Ocaña, La basílica de San Vicente 361–363. It was also the sanctuary of the rebel Hermenegild after his flight from Seville and, later on, a stronghold against the Arab-Berber conquest of the cities of Hispania Baetica. For the evolution during this period, see Salvador, Los siglos vi y vii en el Sur de Hispania 185–203. Of note is Theudis’s incursion in an attempt to retake Ceuta from the Byzantines; Vallejo, Hispania y Bizancio 99–116.

the role of culture in a world in transition

83

adopted the immense legacy of its predecessors.13 Although it is true that the ancient knowledge produced in the Graeco-Roman world was highly mediated in order to meet the demands of the political-religious authorities (i.e., the monarchy and, to a larger extent, the bishops who were at the forefront of the new cultural program that shaped late antiquity and who, above all, favored the consolidation of their power in the nascent Christian society). To this end, it was essential to create a solid network of knowledge and— mutually dependent—individuals who shared an intellectual background that allowed them to undertake their doctrinal, pastoral, and, more importantly, proselytizing labors—including the defence of orthodoxy—with a view to encouraging conversions. It was thus vital to develop cathedral schools and monastic scriptoria,14 which were used to disseminate the knowledge necessary not only for understanding the Scriptures but also a variety of issues, many of a civil character, addressed in councils, as well as for administering ecclesiastical goods.15 The accounts dealing with the process through which mainly the clergy, although some laypersons as well, acquired their knowledge are few and far between. However, it seems as though it was clearly aimed at giving them a good command of grammar.16 In the Roman Empire, the acquisition of a solid education had always been associated with the needs of the civil administration and its officialdom. This process intensified in Visigothic Iberia, particularly at the end of 6th and the beginning of 7th centuries, a moment at which a new state with different needs was taking shape. It was also at around the end of the 6th century when it is possible to talk about a significant increase in Hispanic literary production, maybe with some connection to the process of reorganizing the state and creating a new administration. The cultural education of the elites was the responsibility of the Church, which acted as a filter that, only on occasion, allowed ancient knowledge to

13 14 15

16

An obligatory reference work is Riché’s Éducation et culture. See Fontaine, Fins et moyens de l’enseignement 145–202. In Canon xix of the fourth Council of Toledo, it is expressly indicated that “those who do not know how to read or write” cannot be ordained bishops. A minimum amount of culture for the delivery of sermons and the reading of the Scriptures, and to have risen through the different ecclesiastical offices and ranks, were all essential; Arce, Esperando a los árabes 266–267. For its part, Canon ii of the ninth Council of Toledo referred to the fact that many bishops had neglected their studies, and therefore, the council was obliged to berate them: “o voluntariamente se dedicaban a estudiar y leer, o serían obligados a ello contra su voluntad” [“or they decided voluntarily to study and to read, or they would be forced to do so against their will”] (ibid. 277). Kaster, The guardians of language.

84

sánchez-medina

reach the late antique world. This filtering pursued, in addition to a good command of grammar, the teaching of all the practical learning necessary for life: medicine, geography, agronomy, astronomy, etc., as well as, but to a lesser degree, history. Historical literature, so important during the last centuries of antiquity, should be understood as a natural consequence of the upheavals experienced, which had made it necessary to rewrite the history of the exhausted and, later on, defunct Rome, and to venture into apocalyptic literature that ultimately announced the end of the world.17 Perhaps they were not that mistaken, for the known world had disappeared forever.

2

New Political Contexts, New Culture

After an initial period—from the 5th to the mid-6th century—during which it is impossible to claim that there was a clear interlocking between Visigothic elements and Hispano-Roman culture, there was indeed a progressive and deep-seated assimilation that doubtless must have been affected by the historical context after 560.18 At that time, the Byzantines in Iberia stepped up the pressure on a Visigothic world immersed in perpetual internecine feuding. A clear example of this is the conflict between Agila and Athanagild in Baetica province, thanks to which the Byzantines surely found a way of meddling in the peninsula’s domestic politics. The Suevic kingdom, completely abandoned by historiography until only recently,19 but which played a key role in its Visigothic counterpart’s struggle for territorial consolidation, as well as in its self-definition, came to an end around the same time. The confrontation between the Suevi and the Visigoths, and later between them and the Byzantines, would be one of the driving forces behind the creation of a centralized and religiously unified Visigothic state. It was then that we can appreciate the development of a cultural system that allowed the political and religious elites,20 who had much in common,21 to secure their position. Reference has

17

18 19 20 21

This apocalyptic threat would provoke an euergetic reaction from the elites who, from the end of the 6th century, would often devote part of their fortunes to the construction of religious buildings. On millenarianism in the Visigothic period, see García Moreno, Expectativas milenaristas y escatológicas 247–258. In this respect, see Vallejo, Hispania y Bizancio, especially chapters 5 and 6. We currently have Díaz Martínez, El reino suevo (411–585). Sánchez Medina, A created enemy: “Barbarians” in spite of religious conversion 123–136. For an interesting methodological reflection on this matter, see Sánchez Velasco, La Antigüedad tardía y la época visigoda 321.

the role of culture in a world in transition

85

been made very recently to the conflict with Arianism,22 an aspect that, to our mind, is essential to that reaffirmation and creation of new cultural elements. This led to the need for a doctrinal education indispensable for the dialectic battle, and in turn, it became the intellectual powerhouse to which the elites were often forced to resort to protect themselves from both the internal clashes between the different Gothic factions and religious groups and the external onslaughts of other peoples, such as the Suevi, Byzantines, Franks, etc. This process took place principally during the reigns of Leovigild, Reccared, and Sisebut, more or less contemporaries of the exceptional polymath Isidore of Seville, to whom we will return below.23 The combination between the political endeavors of the aforementioned kings and Isidore’s intellectual labors certainly yielded interesting results from a cultural standpoint. The Christianization of power, in its Catholic version, forced the sacred and the profane to move forward together: the monarchy and the nobility would intervene in matters pertaining to the Church, and the ecclesiastical hierarchy would do much the same in key developments affecting the state. The instrumentalization of culture by the civil and ecclesiastical authorities not only meant renouncing a great deal of ancient knowledge but also reformulating content in pursuit of its better use in the context of late antiquity. The church councils were probably the best examples of this cultural instrumentalization.24 Although their aim was to bring some order to religious life in Iberia, they also served to place the political organization of the Visigothic kingdom on a firmer footing.25 The participation of the lay elites and the king in these council meetings, in addition to the fact that these synods ended up becoming the only meetings held in the Visigothic kingdom in general, points to a

22 23

24

25

Mülke, Isidorische Renaissance 95–107. The introductory study conducted by Díaz and Díaz on the Seville bishop, which is included in Etymologies (ed. and trans. Madrid 1982), is an essential read. See also Quiles, San Isidoro de Sevilla. Included in Martínez Díaz (ed.), La colección canónica hispana; Vives, Concilios visigóticos e hispanoromanos; and afterwards in Martínez Díez and Rodríguez, Concilios Visigodos, La colección canónica hispana. Arce (Esperando a los árabes 237) argues that the council meetings became a form of government, above all from the second half of the 6th century onwards, not only with respect to Church matters but also concerning aspects of daily life, touching on economic, political, and military matters, among others. This is particularly well-illustrated in the participation of the iudices et actores fisci, which is documented from the third Council of Toledo, a key moment of change in Visigothic Church-state relations.

86

sánchez-medina

territorial administration nearly exclusively based on them. Culture was thus reduced to its most pragmatic expression (i.e., that which enabled the exercise of power). In reality, this new formula, introduced as coming from the late Roman Empire, gradually abandoned the recently created concept of Romania26 and all of its cultural connotations to perpetuate only a part of it: Christianitas. At the same time, a process of religious convergence got underway, which ultimately signified the consolidation of Catholic orthodoxy. The new order, stemming from the growing power vacuum in Roman administration, also allowed for the creation of a robust framework in which the bishops, thanks to their classical education and culture, guaranteed their political presence. Only those trained in the ancient arts of rhetoric and oratory were capable of constructing the discourses required by the successors of Rome. The episcopal authorities therefore received a solid classical education with which they could construct models that would enhance their social visibility.27 Civic munificence was all but replaced by episcopal patronage, which not only involve works of a religious nature but also catered to some of the daily needs of the community through traditional euergetic formulas.28 With regard to the interaction between the political and religious spheres, there are many aspects that can be taken into consideration and which link both worlds. A good example of this would be the use of religious sanctions, like excommunication, to penalize political actions that were contrary to the powers in place.29 The frequent faction fighting in the Visigothic world forced monarchs and bishops alike to resort to control mechanisms of a religious nature but with an unambiguous political purpose.

26 27

28

29

Paul Orosius, Seven books of history against the pagans, iii, 20, 11; he reformulates this term from a religious perspective. On the important role of bishops in late antiquity, see Rapp, Holy bishops in late antiquity; Lizzi, Late antique bishop 525–538; Gwynn, Episcopal leadership; Fear, Fernández Ubiña, and Marcos, Role of the bishop. Lizzi, Le transformazione delle elites. On the construction of civic and religious buildings alike and the different repairs carried out on them, see Ubric’s essential La Iglesia y los Estados bárbaros, especially 328–393. Curiously enough, those of the faithful who had committed political crimes were liable for the most extreme sanction, i.e., excommunication ad aeternum, as can be observed in different conciliar canons (the 29th of iv of Toledo; the 2nd of v; the 3rd and 18th of vi; the 1st of vii; and the 10th of xvi). See Sanz, La excomunión como sanción política 275– 288. Exile, another popular form of punishment, meted out on many occasions to bishops themselves, is studied by Frighetto, El exilio, el destierro y sus concepciones políticas 111– 134.

the role of culture in a world in transition

87

The holding of councils (Tarragona, Gerona, Toledo ii, Barcelona, Lerida, Valencia, Braga i, Lugo,30 Braga ii, Toledo iii, and Saragossa),31 the prime movers behind the political-religious synthesis and the creation of a shared cultural imaginary that served as a language between the different groups, intensified during the 6th century. Numbering among the architects of this combined imaginary were men like the aforementioned Isidore of Seville and his older brother Leander, who played such a crucial role at the third council of Toledo.

3

Culture, Fusion, Identity

The third council of Toledo was an outstanding development in the history of the Iberian Peninsula, mainly for its cultural evolution. The period between 589, the year in which the Toledo council was held, and 654—the year of the promulgation of the Liber Iudiciorum—may be regarded as the high point of a culture combining different elements, not only Hispano-Roman and Visigothic but also pagan and Christian, Arian and Catholic, and lay and religious in particular through their respective political elites. Already very clearly perceptible since the reign of Theudis (531–548),32 and just before the city of Cordoba took center stage owing to its clash with Agila, a new political identity, not entirely free of strife,33 began to take shape. To this end, it was necessary to construct an imaginary combining all the realities of the turbulent Iberian Peninsula. The creation of a new identity that encompassed aspects capable of accommodating the effective multiple realities needed an excellent “contact glue” only in the hands of the most educated elites, chiefly the episcopal authorities. The education of the clergy defended by Isidore in Sententiae, in a context in which new teaching materials were possibly being created for their use in the newly created episcopal seminaries and schools as of 633, was unquestionably of vital importance: “A clergy that was well educated and morally upright would help ensure the liturgical, moral, and political stability so desired by both kings and bishops. Clerical education and 30

31 32

33

This council of the Suevic kingdom is yet another example of the importance of the Church-state symbiosis, for it established the need to create new episcopal sees that expedited territorial administration, as well as the different primacies between the main sees, in this case Braga and the city of Lugo itself. Vilella, Los concilios eclesiásticos hispanos 1–47. Theudis’s marriage with a noble Hispano-Roman was a step forward in that fusion between both population groups; Procope, History of the wars: The Gothic war i, 12, 50. See Fuentes, La obra política de Teudis 9–36. Frighetto, Cuando la confrontación genera la colaboración 157–172.

88

sánchez-medina

discipline would support the political legislation and ecclesial synodal activity.”34 But this education would be insufficient on its own when bearing in mind the ultimate objective of any cultural project (i.e., the perfect assembly of the different elements making up Iberian reality), to which end there was a need to construct new discourses. The summum of this fusion is crystal clear in one of Isidore of Seville’s most celebrated works, the History of the Goths, Vandals, and Suevi,35 which offers us an interesting example of the new intellectual discourses of integration that were being constructed at the time. Even though the Visigoths were its leading lights, Isidore does not hesitate to include other gentes who, at the beginning of the 5th century, had crossed the Pyrenees. The decision of the Vandals to abandon Iberia as of 429,36 in addition to the disappearance of the Suevic kingdom in 585, did not prevent the Seville polymath from highlighting the importance of these peoples when writing his work during the first half of the 7th century. In fact, in the case of the Vandals, their establishment in Hispania Baetica and the taking of Seville as their capital are interesting aspects in the evolution of the southern region of the peninsula that have not been sufficiently studied. In the prologue to this work—the so-called “Laus Spaniae”—Isidore masterfully describes what had been the great intellectual concern hitherto: the difficult temporary arrangement between the Hispano-Roman population and the Goths, the natio gothorum. For him, this new combination was not only feasible but also allowed the Hispanic territories to be converted into ideal places “in which the glorious fecundity of the Getic people rejoices much and abundantly flourishes.”37 The Praise of Spain has been interpreted, more frequently than it should have, along national lines through an exacerbated sense of belonging to an essentialist entity, unshakeable in the face of different historical eventualities.38 However, the new way of conceiving the history of Iberia that involved

34 35

36 37 38

Isidore of Seville, On ecclesiastical offices, trans. Knoebel, 9. On this work, see Velázquez, Revisiones de autor y de copistas 67–79. A brief introduction to Isidore can be found in Velázquez and Ripoll, Isidoro de Sevilla y su época 43–45. In reality, there are more references in this work that must be taken into consideration to understand the figure of Isidore and his world, with particular attention to the works of Kampers and Pohl and Dörler. The best available study of the Vandals in the “longue durée” is Modéran, Les Vandales et l’Empire romain. Isidore of Seville, History of the Goths, intro; Donini and Ford, Isidore of Seville’s History of the kings of the Goths, Vandals, and Suevi 1. For an essential study of the Laus, see Fontaine, Un manifeste politique et culturel 61– 68; on the repercussions of this praise during the Middle Ages and its importance in the process of the Reconquista, see Rei, A Laude Spaniae 315–346.

the role of culture in a world in transition

89

this cultural construct, integrating its different peoples, albeit focusing on the Visigoths and their antiquity, needed not only a literary but also political prologue compelled by the new context of union between the Hispano-Romans and the Visigoths.39 In the first edition of the work (ca. 621), this new Isidorian conception enabled the legitimization of the power of the Visigoths by comparing them to the age-old and legendary Scythian people and in the second (625–626), to the descendants of Magog, in clear reference to the biblical story and to the peoples foreordained to carry out God’s will—populus Dei.40 From the ancient conceptualization of Hispania as a mere geographical and administrative division in Roman times, Isidore would then consider it as a place for which the Goths had always been predestined, who wedded her as if she were a bride.41 The figure of Isidore of Seville is thus worthy of special attention. On the one hand, he was the greatest intellectual of his time and, on the other, one of the prime movers behind the articulation of relations between the different political stakeholders. The little information that we have on his life is mostly provided by Isidore himself in his works. The importance of his family was doubtless due to the duties they performed for the Gothic powers. The whole family’s exile from Cartagena to Seville, after the arrival of Byzantine troops in the coastal city, would initiate a period of fruitful collaboration between its members and the Visigothic monarchy: Severianus, his father, as a high official, and Leander, and later on Isidore himself, as Bishop of Seville, as well as Fulgentius, another of his brothers, as Bishop of Écija. The lineage of his mother, whose Gothic descent and links to the Germanic monarchy itself are sometimes hinted at, is much more confusing.42 Indications of Isidore’s status can already be glimpsed when he accompanied Leander to the royal capital to attend the third council of Toledo. His elec-

39 40 41 42

Fontaine, Isidoro de Sevilla: Génesis y originalidad 171; his reflections on the forms of dating this work in relation to the Chronica are also very thought provoking. Regarding when the work was written, and the reasons behind the existence of two versions, see García Moreno, ¿Por qué Isidoro de Sevilla …? 387–408. Merrills, History and geography in late antiquity 205–207. Patrologia Latina 81, 96. In this respect, the reference to a possible relationship between one of his sisters, Theodora or Theodosia, and the usurper Hermenegild, whose mother she would be, is also significant. It might be an error, particularly in light of the ban in force on mixed marriages; Liber Iudicum iii, 1, 1. However, we have examples of marriages of this type between the peninsula elites (e.g., Theudis). It is obvious that the ban had not been strictly observed many years before the enactment of the law normalizing this state of affairs. On this issue, see Valverde, El reino visigodo de Toledo y los matrimonios mixtos 511–527.

90

sánchez-medina

tion to the episcopal see of Seville, following the death of his brother, inevitably brought him into the orbit of the new Gothic king Sisebut as of 612, with whom he had studied.43 From that moment on, Isidore would be a frequent visitor to the royal city to advise the king on the difficult decisions that he would be called on to make. Although all his literary oeuvre has a bearing on the analysis at hand, some of Isidore’s works are truly exceptional for understanding the 6th and 7th centuries. Certainly, Etymologies was his most well-known and reproduced work in the Middle Ages. This voluminous compilation marking his maturity contains a compendium of knowledge of his time and, more specifically, of the wisdom he judged as being an essential basis for the new Christian culture of late antiquity, aimed at underpinning the new society. It was so widely used in medieval teaching that, in many cases, the original sources cited in its pages were gradually pushed aside until many of them disappeared. It gives grammar a central role, whose importance has already been noted and whose study occupies the first of the 20 books comprising the compilation. To this rhetoric and dialectics were added afterwards and, finally, mathematics. Diverse subjects are addressed in the rest of the work, for together with medicine and law, it also deals with ecclesiastical literature and Church offices. There is no doubt whatsoever that the importance that Isidore gave it was determined by its real objective: to place the knowledge inherited from the ancient world at the service of the elites of late antiquity. Another outstanding work is On illustrious men,44 a short compendium of biographies that link the works of Jerome and Gennadius of Massilia with those of Ildefonsus of Toledo—which already included the life of Isidore— in addition to subsequent early medieval chronicles. A century after Gennadius had written his work, Isidore intended to underline the relevance of a new category. Together with mainly 5th-century poets and Christian historians/hagiographers, there appeared a new group composed of Hispanic authors and bishops.45 There was still, of course, concern with heresy, so typical of Gennadius, in this case particularly in relation to the nature of Christ—an important aspect considering the evolution of the conflict between Arians

43

44

45

Of note among the works mentioning Sisebut is the life of St. Desiderius of Vienne, a magnificent example of the political function that hagiographic literature served in the late antique world; Fontaine, King Sisebut’s Vita Desiderii 93–129. It must have been written between 615 and 618, during the reign of and perhaps commissioned by Sisenand, with whom Isidore shared cultural interests. See Codoñer, De Viris Illustribus [On illustrious men] 17. Sánchez Salor, El género de los de viris illustribus 29–54.

the role of culture in a world in transition

91

and Catholics during the last decades of the previous century.46 Nonetheless, it was the bishops who took pride of place in the treatise. Hosius, Hydatius of Chaves—a 5th-century chronicler—and Martin of Dumio—the evangelizer of the Suevic kingdom—are just some of those mentioned, along with other outstanding 6th-century figures: Justinian of Valencia, Justus of Urgell, Isidore’s own brother Leander, Licinian of Cartagena, Severus of Malaga, John of Gerona—of Biclar—Eutropius of Valencia, and, the most recent, Maximus of Saragossa. Hydatius of Cordoba, the first to decry Priscillianism,47 noteworthy for a treatise against heresy, also gets looked at. The bishop of Cordoba’s quest for orthodoxy would have contributed to strengthening the fledgling Visigothic state, as would the learning and works of the rest of the bishops listed above, the authentic intellectual powerhouse of the Visigothic kingdom. It could be argued that the Iberia of Isidore was identified in an increasingly less ambiguous way with the culture of the Catholic Church.48 This evolution would culminate in Ildefonsus of Toledo’s On illustrious men,49 which almost exclusively lists Hispanic bishops who had never written anything, a clear indication of the progressive cultural impoverishment at the end of the Visigothic period. While Isidore insisted on the problem of heresy and on the education and literary production of bishops, Ildefonsus focused his attention, once the Visigothic monarchy was consolidated, exclusively on episcopal figures, principally those of the see of Toledo, who were inextricably linked to the king.50 One of the most significant cultural achievements of that newly combined world was, undoubtedly, law, which both the monarchy and the Church knew how to use to protect their own interests by defending common purposes. The Code of Leovigild—now lost—laid the foundations for subsequent changes in Visigothic law. The lifting of the prohibition against mixed mar-

46 47 48 49

50

In turn, there are constant references to authors opposing Monophysitism and to the quarrel of the Three Chapters; Markus, Gregory the Great ch. 9. Isidore of Seville, On illustrious men 9. Sánchez Salor, El género de los de viris illustribus 50. It starts with the Roman Gregory the Great. The pope, at the forefront of the intellectual revival of the West, had close ties with the Visigothic kingdom. It also includes the monk Donatus (On illustrious men 3) who, after arriving in Iberia from Byzantine Africa, accompanied by his community and a well-furnished library, was to become one of the architects of the Visigothic kingdom’s cultural development; Modéran, Les Maures et l’Afrique romaine 275–276. On the reasons behind his emigration to the Visigothic part of the peninsula, rather than to the part controlled by the Byzantines, see Vallejo, Hispania y Bizancio 222–224. Sánchez Salor, El género de los de viris illustribus 53.

92

sánchez-medina

riages was just one of the aspects envisaged in the Codex Revisus, which must have favored the combination of Gothic and Hispano-Roman elements. Similarly, the code must have improved the position of the monarchy with respect to the community and established hereditary succession, which would ultimately mean a further step towards the new political reality that would be consolidated in the 7th century. That consolidation had its highest expression in the Liber Iudicorum decreed by Recceswinth in 654, nearly two decades after the death of Isidore. Even though we are unfamiliar with the full details of some aspects, we do know that the code could be modified at the wish of the king and with the acquiescence of the bishops and court principals.51 The aim of this new code was yet again to consolidate the position of the monarchy and the stability of the Visigothic state. To this end, its dissemination was encouraged, to the extent of controlling its price on the market.52 This interest in disclosing the content of the new laws—the legal culture—together with the monarchy’s price cap on the final product—the code—brings us back to the cultural sphere and the dissemination of a political program championed by the elites. However, this situation would not last forever. The second half of the 7th century and the first few years of the following one, during which Iberia remained under Visigothic control, evince a certain deterioration in the glittering cultural achievements of the previous decades. The clergy, who had gone to such great lengths to secure the Visigothic monarchy’s position through their cultural program, now seemed to abandon common objectives in pursuit of individual salvation or, at best, on a small scale, that of their respective urban communities. The establishment of the political-religious frontier between al-Andalus and the Christian kingdoms and the progressive Arabization of culture fostered at the highest levels of Umayyad officialdom did not, however, hinder cultural activities among the Hispano-Visigoths—intellectuals, libraries, parish schools, new monasteries, manuscript restoration, the commissioning of new copies, the transfer of works, etc. It is reasonable to believe that the relentless advance of Islamic culture in southern Iberia must have provoked a cultural reaction expressed not only in the appearance of voluntary martyrs but also in the recovery of a large part of the culture in which martyrdom had been possible. This was none other than the last centuries of the Roman Empire. The importance of Cordoba, where this cultural renaissance involved such remarkable figures as Eulogius and Alvarus, must have increased gradually or, alternatively, possessed 51 52

An analysis of book one of the Liber is sufficient to appreciate the importance given to the bishops and the officium palatii as the king’s advisors. A maximum price of six wages.

the role of culture in a world in transition

93

a dissident kernel, at a moment when the Arab-Berbers consolidated their hold over Iberia, for they established their capital precisely at the Baetican city, thus reviving once again the splendor of the ancient Roman urbs of Corduba.

Bibliography Primary Sources Colección canónica hispana, ed. G. Martínez Díaz, Madrid 1966. Concilios Visigodos, La colección canónica hispana, eds. G. Martínez Díez / F. Rodríguez, Madrid (iv–vi) 1984–2003. Concilios visigóticos e hispanoromanos, ed. J. Vives, Madrid-Barcelona 1963. Isidore of Seville, De ecclesiasticis officiis, ed. J.-P. Migne, Sancti Isidori Hispalensis episcopi De ecclesiasticis officiis libri ii, Patrologia Latina (83); ed. T.L. Knoebel, On Ecclesiastical Offices, New Jersey 2008. Isidore of Seville, De Viris Illustribus, ed. C. Codoñer, [On Illustrious Men], Salamanca 1964. Isidore of Seville, Etymologiae, eds. J. Oroz Reta / M.A. Marcos Reta, Etimologías [Etimologies], Madrid 2004. Isidore of Seville, Historia de regibus Gothorum, ed. Th. Mommsen, mgh. Auctor. antiquiss. xi, Cron. Min. ii. S. Isidori Hispalensis episcopi Historia Gothorum, Berlin 1894; eds. G. Donini, / G.B. Ford, History of the Kings of the Goths, Vandals, and Suevi, Leiden 1966.

Secondary Literature Arce, J., “¿Hispalis o Emerita? A propósito de la capital de la diocesis hispaniarum en el siglo iv D.C.”, Habis 33 (2002), pp. 501–506. Arce, J., El último siglo de la España romana: 284–409, Madrid 1982. Arce, J., Esperando a los árabes: los visigodos en “Hispania” (507–711), Madrid 2011. Beltrán Fortes, J. / García García, M.A. / Rodríguez Oliva, P., Los sarcófagos romanos de Andalucía, Corpus Signorum Imperii Romani. España vol. 1, 3, Murcia 2007. Calson, C.A.S., Regionalism in Visigothic Spain, Kansas 1970. Castillo Maldonado, P., “Católicos bajo dominio arriano en la Hispania Visigoda”, Marginados sociales y religiosos en la Hispania tardorromana y visigoda, Madrid 2013, pp. 139–169. Castillo Maldonado, P., “El cristianismo y las iglesias del sur peninsular en la Antigüedad tardía: balance histórico”, Habis 44 (2013), pp. 281–303. Castillo Maldonado, P., “Pro amore Dei: donantes y constructores en la provincia Baetica tardoantigua (testimonios literarios y arqueológicos)”, Antiquité Tardive 13 (2005), pp. 335–350.

94

sánchez-medina

Díaz Martínez, P.C., El reino suevo (411–585), Madrid 2011. Fear, A. / Fernández Ubiña, J./ Marcos, M. (eds.), The Role of the Bishop in Late Antiquity: conflicto and compromiso, London 2013. Fernández Ubiña, J., “Osio de Córdoba, el Imperio y la Iglesia del siglo iv”, Gerión 18 (2000), pp. 468–471. Fontaine, J., “Fins et moyens de l’enseignement ecclésiastique dans l’Espagne wisigothique”, in La scuola nell’Occidente latino dell’alto Medioevo, Spoleto 1972, pp. 145– 229. Fontaine, J., “King Sisebut’s Vita Desiderii and the Political Function of Visigothic Hagiography”, Visigothic Spain. New Approaches, Oxford 1980, pp. 93–129. Fontaine, J., “Un manifeste politique et culturel: le ‘De laude Spaniae’ d’Isidore de Séville”, Le discours d’éloge entre Antiquité et Moyen Age, Paris 2000, pp. 61–68 Fontaine, J., Isidoro de Sevilla: Génesis y originalidad de la cultura hispánica en tiempos de los visigodos, Madrid 2002. Frighetto, R., “Cuando la confrontación genera la colaboración: godos, romanos y el surgimiento del reino hispanogodo de Toledo (siglos v–vi)”, Vínculos de Historia 7 (2018), pp. 157–172. Frighetto, R., “El exilio, el destierro y sus concepciones políticas en la Hispania visigoda: los ejemplos de Juan Bíclaro e Isidoro de Sevilla (siglos vi–vii)”, in M. Vallejo / J.A. Bueno / C. Sánchez-Moreno (eds.), Movilidad forzada entre la Antigüedad clásica y tardía, Alcalá de Henares 2015, pp. 111–134. Fuentes Hinojo, P., “La obra política de Teudis y sus aportaciones a la construcción del reino visigodo de Toledo”, España Medieval 19 (1996), pp. 9–36. Fuentes Hinojo, P., “Patrocinio eclesiástico, rituales de poder e historia urbana en la Hispania tardoantigua (siglos iv al vi)”, Studia Historica. Historia Antigua 26 (2008), pp. 315–344. García García, M.A., “Sarcófagos romanos decorados del siglo iv en el territorio andaluz: enfoques y problemática vigente”, Spal 21 (2012), pp. 183–193. García Moreno, L.A., “¿Por qué Isidoro de Sevilla quiso escribir una segunda versión de su Historia Gothorum?”, in M. Aurell / T. Deswarte (eds.), Famille, violence et christianisation au Moyen Âge. Mélanges offerts à Michel Rouche, Paris 2004, pp. 387–408. García Moreno, L.A., “Andalucía durante la Antigüedad tardía”, in Actas i Congreso Historia de Andalucía. Fuentes y Metodología. Andalucía en la Antigüedad i, Córdoba 1978, pp. 297–307. García Moreno, L.A., “Expectativas milenaristas y escatológicas en la España tardoantigua (ss. v–vii)”, Los Visigodos y su mundo, Madrid 1998, pp. 247–258. García Moreno, L.A., “Transformaciones de la Bética durante la tardoantigüedad”, Mainake 29 (2007) pp. 434–441. Gwynn, D.M., Episcopal Leadership, in S. Fitzgerald Johnson (ed.), The Oxford Handbook of Late Antiquity, Oxford 2012.

the role of culture in a world in transition

95

Kampers, G., “Isidor von Sevilla und das Königtum”, Antiquité Tardive 23 (2015), pp. 123– 132. Kaster, A., The Guardians of Language: the grammarian and society in Late Antiquity, Berkeley 1988. Lizzi, R., “The Late Antique Bishop: Image and Reality”, in Ph. Rousseau (ed.), Companion to Late Antiquity, Chichester 2009, pp. 525–538. Lizzi, R., Le transformazione delle elites in età tardoantica, Perugia 2004. Markus, R.A., Gregory the Great and his world, Cambridge 1997. Menéndez Pelayo, M., Historia de los heterodoxos españoles, Madrid 1880. Merrills, A.H., History and Geography in Late Antiquity, Cambridge Studies in Medieval Life and Thought, Fourth Series, 64, Cambridge 2005, pp. 205–207. Modéran, Y., Les Maures et l’Afrique romaine (ive–viie siècle), Rome 2003. Modéran, Y., Les Vandales et l’Empire romain, M.Y. Perrin, (ed.), Arles 2014. Mülke, M. “Isidorische Renaissance—oder: Über die Anbahnung einer Wiedergeburt”, Antiquité Tardive 23 (2015), pp. 95–107. Ocaña, M., “La basílica de San Vicente y la Gran Mezquita de Córdoba. Nuevo examen de los textos”, Al-Andalus 7 (1942), pp. 347–366. Orlandis, J., “Una familia episcopal en la Hispania del siglo vi”, Annuarium historiae conciliorum 27/28, 1 (1995/1996), pp. 61–68. Pohl, W. / Dörler, P., “Isidore and the gens Gothorum”, Antiquité Tardive 23 (2015), pp. 133–142. Quiles, I., San Isidoro de Sevilla, Madrid 1965. Rapp, C., Holy Bishops in Late Antiquity: The Nature of Christian Leadership in an Age of Transition, Berkeley 2005. Rei, A., “A Laude Spaniae de Isidoro de Sevilha na Cronística Medieval”, in R. Costa, (coord.), Mirabilia 13 (2011): As relações entre História e Literatura no Mundo Antigo e Medieval Peninsular (séculos viii–xiv), pp. 315–346. Riché, P., Éducation et culture dans l’Occident barbare, Paris 1962. Riestra Rodríguez, J.L., “Décimo Magno Ausonio: Referencias hispanas de manipulación erudita y utilitarismo geográfico”, Studia Historica. Historia Antigua 9 (1991), pp. 129–137. Salvador Ventura, F., “Los siglos vi y vii en el Sur de Hispania. De período de autonomía ciudadana a pilar del Reino hispano-visigodo”, Hispania meridional durante la Antigüedad, Jaén 2000, pp. 185–203. Sánchez Medina, E., “A Created Enemy: ‘Barbarians’ in spite of Religious Conversion. Visigoths and Byzantines in 6th Century Iberia”, in L. Klusakova / M. Moll (eds.), Crossing Frontiers and Resisting Identities, Pisa 2010, pp. 123–136. Sánchez Salor, E., “El género de los de viris illustribus de Jerónimo a Ildefonso de Toledo: su finalidad”, Talia dixit 1 (2006), pp. 29–54. Sánchez Velasco, J., “La Antigüedad tardía y la época visigoda”, in J.F. Rodríguez Neila

96

sánchez-medina

(coord.), La ciudad y sus legados históricos: Córdoba romana, Córdoba 2017, pp. 313– 369. Sánchez Velasco, J., The Christianization of Western Baetica Architecture, Power, and Religion in a Late Antique Landscape, Amsterdam 2017. Sanz Serrano, R., “La excomunión como sanción política en el reino visigodo de Toledo”, Antigüedad y Cristianismo iii, Murcia 1986, pp. 275–288. Sotomayor Muro, M., “Testimonios arqueológicos cristianos en la Andalucía romana y visigótica”, Historia de Andalucía ii. Andalucía en la Antigüedad tardía: de Diocleciano a don Rodrigo, Seville 2006, pp. 157–160. Thompson, E.A., Los godos en España, Madrid 1971. Ubric Rabaneda, P., La Iglesia y los Estados bárbaros en la Hispania del s. v (409–507), Tesis doctoral, Granada 2003. Vallejo Girvés, M., Hispania y Bizancio: una relación desconocida, Madrid 2012. Valverde Castro, M.R., “El reino visigodo de Toledo y los matrimonios mixtos entre godos y romanos”, Gerión 20, 1 (2002), pp. 511–527. Velázquez Soriano, I., “Revisiones de autor y de copistas en las obras de Isidoro de Sevilla. A propósito de la Historia Gothorum”, Antiquité Tardive 23 (2015), pp. 67–79. Velázquez, I. / Ripoll, G., “Isidoro de Sevilla y su época”, Antiquité Tardive 23 (2015), pp. 43–45. Vilella Massana, J., “Los concilios eclesiásticos hispanos del periodo visigodo-arriano: análisis histórico-prosopográfico”, Medieval Prosopography 25 (2008), pp. 1–47.

chapter 5

Christianity: The Architecture of a New Faith (4th–7th Century) María de los Ángeles Utrero Agudo and Alejandro Villa del Castillo

1

Introduction

The history and materiality of late antique architecture in Cordoba has often been hidden under Islamic monuments. Consequently, research has predominantly focused on emirate and caliphal architectural evidence (9th–10th century), especially the examples preserved in the Great Mosque or aljama (founded by ʿAbd al-Raḥmān i, ca. 785/86–788ce) and the nearby palatine complex of Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ (founded by ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii, 936 ce). Fortunately, archaeological research undertaken in Cordoba over the last two decades has started to change this situation by going beyond the limits of the Roman period and discovering the materiality of later historical moments.1 The development of urban archaeology motivated by the rapid expansion of the city in recent years, and the greater attention being paid to late antique and Christian topography, have led to renewed interest in this research. This also applies to many other towns and cities in the Iberian Peninsula and Western Europe and, in a way, has awoken the urgent need to document late antique episcopal sees and their churches. The examples from Cordoba clearly demonstrate how some archaeological interpretations, with the help of written records, have been over zealous in their conclusions (fig. 5.1).2 Moving forward, the Christian or “Mozarabic” temples of the emirate and caliphate are yet to be studied, not only in Cordoba but also in al-Andalus in general. Their study has been met with controversy regarding the challenge of building churches under Islamic rule and the current problem of physically documenting them. However, this issue is beyond the scope of our study.3

1 Acién and Vallejo Triano, Urbanismo y estado islámico; Murillo et al., La transición de la civitas clásica. 2 A critique of recent approaches to episcopal sees can be found in Arbeiter, ¿Primitivas sedes episcopales hispánicas en los suburbia?; and Chavarría, Obispos, iglesias y suburbia. 3 Molénat, La place des chrétiens dans la Cordoue; García Sanjuán, La formación de la doctrina legal mālikí; León and Murillo, Las comunidades dhimmis cristianas.

© M.A. Utrero Agudo and A. Villa del Castillo, 2023 | doi:10.1163/9789004524156_006

98

utrero agudo and villa del castillo

figure 5.1 Plan of Cordoba. 1. Main mosque—San Vicente; 2. Cercadilla; 3. Hermitage of Santos Mártires; 4. Huerta de San Rafael; 5. Santa Clara; 6. Duque de Hornachuelos; 7. amphitheater; 8. Cortijo de Chinales; 9. La Merced; 10. Campo de la Verdad; 11. Nuestra Señora de la Salud; 12. Huerta de la Camila; 13. Santa Marina

Taking the above into account, this paper first reviews the history of research to demonstrate how the material evidence documented in Cordoba from the late 19th century onwards has been interpreted. The most important late antique architectural and sculptural remains are then examined through a critical approach, taking into account the Iberian context and previous explanations.4 4 We understand Christian architecture and sculpture as that produced or used by and for Christian commissioners. We are aware of our a priori hypothesis with material of an unknown context. Elements traditionally linked to Islamic use or production contexts, although partially coeval (8th–10th century), are not analyzed here.

christianity: the architecture of a new faith (4th–7th century)

99

Thus, our aim is to provide a comprehensive overview of the research, which offers some answers but also poses many questions.

2

History of Research

For reasons of space and due to the scope of our study, the following history of research will focus only on the architectural and sculptural culture of Cordoba. However, Latin-Byzantine art and the “Visigothist” and “Mozarabist” models are common in the Iberian Peninsula and provide further insight into the singularities of Cordoba.5 Regarding the so-called “Latin-Byzantine art,” understood as a combination of Roman (Latin) and Eastern Mediterranean (Byzantine) artistic features, the late 19th-century study by the Cordoban researcher José Amador de los Ríos y Serrano was the first to identify certain material evidence in Cordoba as early Christian.6 Using the late antique written references to churches, he attempted to match them to excavated sculptural fragments, noting that most of these pieces had actually been reused in the Great Mosque.7 The author compiled a detailed corpus (mainly capitals and capital-imposts) and classification of elements (“Latin,” “Byzantine imitation,” “Latin-Byzantine,” dating from the 4th–7th century), which would not be improved on until Ewert and Wisshak’s publication on Almohad mosques almost a century later.8 In the early 20th century, the art historian Gómez-Moreno Martínez did not identify any Christian architectural or decorative remains in Cordoba or alAndalus dating from the 8th and 9th centuries.9 He only ventured so far as to date inscribed fragments, such as Christian epitaphs, some of them decorated, which were documented in Cordoba and ascribed to the 9th–11th century.10 5 6 7

8 9 10

For an extensive historiography, see Utrero, Iglesias tardoantiguas y altomedievales 25–45. Ríos y Serrano, El Arte Latino-Bizantino; and Ríos y Serrano, Monumentos latino-bizantinos de Córdoba. Ríos y Serrano, Monumentos latino-bizantinos de Córdoba, 33–34, 42, 48, 51, and 65–68. He also considers the mosaic of the Four Seasons with its pagan iconography to be “LatinByzantine.” Ewert and Wisshak, Forschungen zur almohadischen Moschee. Gómez-Moreno Martínez, Iglesias Mozárabes 5. In our opinion, decorated Christian tombstones from the 9th to the 11th century were produced by Islamic artisans. Examples can be found in Cordoba, Granada, Malaga, Seville, and the Portuguese Algarve (one piece). This high number demonstrates the presence of Christian commissioners able to demand these prestige elements in the late al-Andalus period; Gómez-Moreno Martínez, Iglesias Mozárabes 364–369; Azuar, De Arqueología Mozárabe 82, who analyzed 38 tombstones.

100

utrero agudo and villa del castillo

Gómez-Moreno Martínez’s important work on Mozarabic churches in the Iberian Peninsula later contributed to cataloguing all the Cordoban sculptures to a time before 711ce. Later studies by the Spanish art historian Camps and the German archaeologist Schlunk in the mid-20th century are key to understanding how the “Visigothist” model, which also affected Cordoba, came about. Unlike the 4th–7th century chronological timeframe used by Ríos y Serrano, subsequent research focused on the Visigothic period in the 6th and 7th centuries. Most sculptural elements would be dated to this period. However, Camps and Schlunk contributed very little new evidence to Ríos’s corpus and both believed that the Cordoban group of sculptures was the result of the direct influence of the coeval sculptures identified in the Lusitanian city of Merida. The researchers based this hypothesis on the similarities observed between elements from Cordoba and Merida,11 both of which featured classicist designs, thus making them the oldest examples in Hispania. In their opinion, these centers of production must have started to function around the 6th century, and their decorative traditions would have converged in the following century when the sculptural workshops of Toledo were established.12 This time period (6th–7th century) and the link with Merida characterizes Cordoban sculpture until the present day.13 In the mid-20th century, a capital with an anthropic and zoomorphic representation of the four Evangelists was discovered by chance.14 This piece became fundamental for Schlunk, who affirmed that iconographic depictions in the churches of San Pedro de La Nave (Zamora) and Santa María in Quintanilla de las Viñas (Burgos) were based on Visigothic book illustrations, which have not been preserved. Together with a few other fragments from the south, this capital was key to justifying the presence of figured representations from the Visigothic period. Schlunk’s proposal was accepted by most researchers and strongly contributed to consolidating the “Visigothist” model.15 During the 20th century, the sculptural work from Cordoba was only included in general publications on Visigothic art. Santos Gener’s work was the 11 12 13

14 15

Schlunk, Arte visigodo 254–257; Schlunk and Hauschild, Die Denkmäler der frühchristlichen 63–65. Camps Cazorla, El arte hispanovisigodo 451 and 476–478. Gómez-Moreno Martínez, El arte árabe español 30–33; Cruz Villalón, Mérida visigoda 430–431; Sánchez Velasco, Elementos arquitectónicos de época visigoda; Sánchez Ramos, Decoración arquitectónica y escultura 433. Santos Gener, Museo Arqueológico de Córdoba. Schlunk and Hauschild, Die Denkmäler der frühchristlichen 192; Vidal Álvarez, La escultura hispánica figurada 166–170; Sánchez Ramos, Decoración arquitectónica y escultura 426 and 432–433; Domingo, Capiteles tardorromanos y visigodos 173, no. 332, among others.

christianity: the architecture of a new faith (4th–7th century) 101

only monographic approach to the subject, and includes unknown pieces.16 As director of the Archaeological Museum of Cordoba (hereafter maeco), Santos Gener, and later his successor Vicent Zaragoza, published the institution’s new acquisitions over a period of many years (Memorias de los Museos Arqueológicos Provinciales).17 In the second half of the century, hardly any other innovative proposal relating to Cordoban sculpture deserves mention. In contrast, four studies on sculpture were published in the early 21st century. Vidal Álvarez analyzes the iconography of figured representations based on Schlunk’s theory.18 The study by Sánchez Velasco is the most up-to-date inventory of Cordoban sculpture, although limited to the materials housed at maeco. He proposes that the sculptures evolved from the 5th to the 8th century19 and mentions other fragments in the city and province of Cordoba, identifying up to 14 buildings for which these sculptures were produced.20 The third study was carried out by Sánchez Ramos, who groups the pieces into functional and decorative categories but respects the traditional dates.21 The most recent work is the corpus of Hispanic capitals published by Domingo Magaña, who describes and analyzes almost 130 examples from Cordoba, most of them reused in the Great Mosque.22 Only two capitals were found in primary archaeological contexts.23 Therefore, Domingo Magaña mainly employed formal and comparative criteria to date the remaining pieces over a long period between the 3rd and 10th centuries.24 In addition to these studies, several papers have recently brought to light further unique elements found in Cordoba (Cercadilla and the fortress/alcázar).25

16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23

24

25

Santos Gener, Las artes en Córdoba. Vicent Zaragoza, Nuevas piedras visigodas; and Vicent Zaragoza, Capiteles de pequeño formato. Vidal Álvarez, La escultura hispánica figurada. Sánchez Velasco, Elementos arquitectónicos de época visigoda. Also in Ordóñez et al., Novedades arqueológicas de las Sedes 356. Sánchez Ramos, Decoración arquitectónica y escultura. Domingo Magaña, Capiteles tardorromanos y visigodos. They were found by Félix Hernández in an unknown location in the courtyard of the mosque. They are identical and date from the second half of the 6th century, according to the chronology given by Marfil for the related structure; Domingo Magaña, Capiteles tardorromanos y visigodos 51. Prior to the 4th century (9 exemplars), 4th century (11), 5th century (2), 5th/6th century (10), 6th century (3), 6th/7th century (59), 7th century (16), 8th/10th century (12), and of unknown date (14). Bermúdez and León Pastor, Piezas decorativas visigodas del alcázar cordobés; and Bermúdez Cano, Mobiliario litúrgico del complejo cultual.

102

utrero agudo and villa del castillo

In the 1990s, Caballero Zoreda proposed an innovative model to explain the late antique and early medieval architecture and sculpture of the Iberian Peninsula. He also reviewed some Cordoban decorative motifs (pearled circles, fig. 5.2 i; certain types of plant motifs) dating from the 8th and 9th centuries related to coeval examples of Eastern Umayyad art.26 Following Caballero, other researchers also redated some pieces thought to be Visigothic to the 8th century onwards.27 Later, Caballero Zoreda argued that most of Cordoba’s sculptural production could be dated to the 7th century due to the lack of typological features attributed to later periods, such as vault imposts.28 Sastre de Diego also used an archaeological approach to study the peninsular altars.29 Among the examples recorded in Cordoba, four are most certainly altars (and14 mosque, “local group of difficult dating,” fig. 4c; and16 “local group of difficult dating”; and18, Cercadilla, 6th–7th century; and19, epigraphic ara, church of San Pedro, “between the second and third quarter of the 7th century”); and three which are of uncertain character (and15, and17, and and20, Santa Clara). The most updated and recent approach to document the Cordoban sculptural group has been published by one of our coauthors.30 The study deals with late antique and early medieval Hispanic sculpture and aims to outline and highlight the sculpture workshops operating from the 6th to the 10th century. A stratigraphic, typological, and production approach has enabled us to obtain chronological markers in terms of form, function, and technology. For the first time, this study has categorized several sculpture groups and workshops, which drastically changed the panorama of sculptural production hitherto described, as explained below. To conclude this section, it is important to inquire as to the whereabouts of all the late antique Cordoban architecture. This brief historiographic review reveals that, apart from some written accounts, urban Christian buildings are generally missing in the research. Until the recent introduction of urban ar-

26 27

28 29 30

Caballero Zoreda, Un canal de transmisión de lo clásico 337; and Caballero Zoreda, Arquitectura visigótica y musulmana 156. Shelled niche, considered the miḥrāb from the first mosque, Sánchez Velasco, Elementos arquitectónicos de época visigoda 183–195; capital nos. 210, 216, 268, 269, 280–283, and 333– 336, Domingo Magaña, Capiteles tardorromanos y visigodos; chancel screen tables reused as window screens and stored in the mosque; Cruz Villalón, La plástica asturiana 166, fig. 6 c–d. Caballero Zoreda, Producciones constructivas y decorativas 197. Sastre de Diego, Los altares de las iglesias hispanas. Villa del Castillo, Talleres de escultura arquitectónica.

christianity: the architecture of a new faith (4th–7th century) 103

figure 5.2a–j

(a) Cordoba, maeco nº 2880; (b) Merida, Basilica of Santa Eulalia, Consorcio Ciudad Monumental de Mérida (ccmm) nº 112–412 or 700-141; (c) Cordoba, maeco nº 23537; (d) Merida, Basilica of Santa Eulalia, ccmm; (e) Cordoba, mosque; (f) Merida, Basilica of Santa Eulalia; (g) Cordoba, mosque; (h) Merida, Museo Nacional de Arte Romano; (i) Cordoba, maeco nº 293 (photo: author); (j) Merida, unknown location (a)–(i): photos: author; ( j): photo: ballesteros y beretta, a., historia de españa y su influencia en la historia universal i, barcelona 1918)

104

utrero agudo and villa del castillo

chaeology, due to the urban development mentioned above, urban churches were unknown and rural sites were the only material evidence of Christian architecture, mainly from the 6th century onwards (El Germo, ca. 600 ce, province of Cordoba).31 This explains why this type of architecture is not reviewed here.

3

Sculpture and Architecture in Cordoba (4th–10th Century)

3.1 Isolated Sculpture Based on Villa del Castillo’s study, we will now discuss Christian sculpture in Cordoba that is ascribed to the period from the 4th to the 9th century, taking into consideration the hypotheses mentioned above and by looking closer at the evidence.32 Cordoba is a center of production characterized by two important aspects: first, not a single fragment of primary archaeological contexts has been found; a fact that conditions our understanding of the city and of the mobility and location of workshops. This means that the chronology of Cordoban examples depends on other workshops responsible for production in other sites, primarily Merida. Second, an important number of elements have been dated epigraphically. These are exclusively regional products which, due to their verified chronological markers, enable us to date the activity of Cordoban workshops and to understand their evolution. 3.1.1 Sculptural Production Prior to the 6th Century The only examples of Christian sculpture in Cordoba are decorated sarcophagi dating from the 4th century (the Constantine period or slightly later, 320– 350ce). These sarcophagi have been found at the Great Mosque, Cercadilla, the hermitage of Los Santos Mártires, and La Huerta de San Rafael. Perhaps apart from the last one, all of them were discovered in secondary contexts and reused several times. Sotomayor notes that they were standardly produced in Rome and later exported to Cordoba.33 However, recent reviews have proposed that some unique features of the Baetica sarcophagi could be the product of workshops outside Rome. Examples from Cordoba seem to show an affinity

31 32 33

For Andalusia, see Utrero, Iglesias tardoantiguas y altomedievales 439–448. For an in-depth discussion, see Villa del Castillo, Talleres de escultura arquitectónica 299– 341. Sotomayor, Sarcófagos romano-cristianos de España.

christianity: the architecture of a new faith (4th–7th century) 105

with those of a certain southern-Gallic workshop, which might actually have been the production center.34 The 5th century is practically lacking in evidence. Among the pieces dated by Sánchez Velasco as belonging to this century, only one with any certainty comes from Cordoba (sv 44).35 This is a table top decorated with a fake reticle that, however, must be ascribed to the Roman period. Vidal Álvarez mentions only one relief, whose dating to this period remains doubtful.36 In addition to these elements, only two capitals have been dated to the 5th century.37 Given that data from the 4th (imported sarcophagi) and the 5th (almost unidentified and doubtful examples) century are scarce, it is impossible to confirm the presence of established sculpture workshops. This fact also makes it difficult to defend the continuity of sculptural production from the classical period and the late Roman to the Visigothic periods. This affirmation is also valid when rejecting the hypothetical continuity until the 6th century, as will be explained below. 3.1.2 Spolia from Merida in Cordoba We have already made reference to the hypothetical dependency of Cordoba’s sculpture on that produced in Merida. We believe this influence is due to another reason hitherto unnoticed: the transportation of pieces from Merida to Cordoba due to the deliberate plundering commissioned by the emirate authorities in the 8th and 9th centuries.38 Production and stratigraphic and textual reasons, along with the identification of workshops in Merida and Cordoba, are key to understanding this phenomenon. These pieces were produced by different workshops based in Merida from the early 6th to the mid-9th century (figs. 5.2a, c, e, g, i, Cordoba; fig. 5.2b, d, f, h, j, Merida). The largest group belongs to the “Santa Eulalia ii” workshop dating from the last third of the 6th century and has been documented thanks to the restoration carried out on the basilica of Santa Eulalia (Merida; figs. 5.2c, e). Another group belongs to the “Casa Herrera ii” workshop dating from the mid-6th century (fig. 5.2a), and a third group to the “Mérida-Trampal” workshop dating from the 8th and 9th centuries (fig. 5.2i).39 In addition to these three

34 35 36 37 38 39

García García, Sarcófagos romanos decorados del siglo iv 187–191. Hereafter, pieces from the catalogue of Sánchez Velasco, Elementos arquitectónicos de época visigoda, are mentioned as “sv,” followed by the corresponding number. Figure with halo (nimbus), Vidal Álvarez, La escultura hispánica figurada 60–62, B10. Domingo Magaña, Capiteles tardorromanos y visigodos, nº 288 and 290. Villa, Talleres de escultura arquitectónica 105–107, 302–313. Villa del Castillo refers to the workshops as “Talleres de escultura arquitectónica” (sculp-

106

utrero agudo and villa del castillo

workshops, which are the most representative examples, there is a large group of elements thought to belong to other workshops, all of them documented either in Merida or nearby areas. Capital-imposts constitute the principal elements of the spolia coming from Merida that are reused in the Great Mosque. They feature a type of design that is quite common in Merida but hardly documented in Cordoba outside of the mosque. Furthermore, there are only a few capital-imposts in Cordoba, and none of them are attributed to the local workshops, thus confirming that these elements were not produced in Cordoba.40 However, there is also a large group of Roman capitals that were reused in the mosque with a typology that is again common in Merida and unknown in Cordoba. This is why Peña Jurado suggests that they were imported from Merida to be reused in the enlargement of the mosque during the time of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii.41 The shafts, bases, and other marble elements may also have been brought from Merida, but their simple features do not enable us to confirm this. We believe that the presence of a large group of sculptural products in Cordoba, thought to belong to workshops in Merida that had been working for four centuries (from the 6th to the 9th century, including Roman examples), confirms the hypothesis that most of the examples were plundered from several buildings in Merida or surrounding areas and later taken to Cordoba. Stratigraphically, the data are equally coherent. Most of the pieces were reused in the mosque’s two earliest phases. In the first mosque (ʿAbd al-Raḥmān i, ca. 785/786–788), elements with decorative motifs ascribed to 7thcentury workshops based in Merida were reused, while sculptural types dating exclusively from the 6th century (all or most from the “Santa Eulalia ii” workshop, fig. 5.2e) were reused in the second (ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii, ca. 833–848). The capital-imposts thus differ in each phase and date to different periods, which

40

41

tural architecture workshops) after the archaeological sequence of the basilicas of Santa Eulalia (Merida), Casa Herrera (Merida), and Santa Lucía del Trampal (Caceres), all of them either recently excavated or reviewed. For further bibliography, see Utrero, Iglesias tardoantiguas y altomedievales 565–580. There are another two capital-imposts from the workshop in Merida (sv 21 and 23), which could also have been part of the first mosque. It is possible that some pieces of the mosque could have been moved during the reform undertaken after the Christian conquest. Ríos y Serrano (Monumentos latino-bizantinos de Córdoba 34, no. 1) analyzed a testimony from Ambrosio de Morales suggesting that some materials removed in the 16th century could have been sold and dispersed. Sánchez Velasco (Elementos arquitectónicos de época visigoda 227–228) mentions that some capitals from the mosque were reused in the 16thcentury church of Santo Espíritu. Peña Jurado, Estudio de la decoración arquitectónica romana 156–157.

christianity: the architecture of a new faith (4th–7th century) 107

reflects selective plundering in the mosque’s two building phases (under ʿAbd al-Raḥmān i and ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii). Coeval written records also shed light on the emirs’ practice of plundering and importing materials, even from faraway places (above all marble, the only stone used for the pieces in Merida). Al-Maqqarī mentions how, after the siege of Narbonne by Hishām i in 793, the population was obliged to transport materials from the ruined city wall to Cordoba, where they were stored and later employed to build a mosque.42 Ibn Ḥayyān describes how Emir ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii dismantled buildings from every region in search of columns and brought them to his caliphal residence in Cordoba.43 And Aḥmad al-Rāzī describes how the former governor of Merida, ʿAbd Allāh, gathered marble from the ruined buildings of the city with the aim of reemploying them in new constructions.44 Lastly, although the possibility that these pieces came from Merida has not been subject to any geological analyses, various researchers agree that the marble was drawn from Lusitanian quarries.45 All of these reasons support the hypothesis that a significant part of the late antique and early medieval sculpture documented in Cordoba was transported from Merida, almost 200km away (in a straight line), in the 8th and 9th centuries. The primary reason for this activity was the construction of the mosque, with its monumental hypostyle hall that demanded large quantities of material (mainly supports for the arches: bases, shafts, capitals, and capital-imposts). Not all the elements were available in Cordoba, especially the decorated capital-imposts, which were brought from Merida, where they were common. They belong roughly to two groups, each of them reused in a different phase of the mosque. There are no further data regarding the import of pieces for the construction of the first mosque (8th century). The second construction (ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii, ca. 833–848) involved the first enlargement of

42 43 44

45

Al-Maqqarī, Nafḥ al-ṭīb min guṣn al-Andalus al-raṭīb 99. Ibn Ḥayyān, Almuqtabis ii-1 182. “Yo oy dezir al alcalde fijo Gablolle de Abdalla […] Yo aviendo grant sabor de piedras marmoles para afeytar con ellas mis obras que fazia fazer nuevamente, aquaecio asy que yo entre en Mérida despues que ella fue destroyda, e falle atan buenas obras de piedras marmoles e de otras naturas que me maravillo mucho. E fize tomar a leuar todas aquellas que entendía que mi padre pagaría”; Aḥmad al-Rāzī, Crónica del Moro Rasis 72. These are the plaque-niche of the mosque (fig. 6a), Bermúdez Cano, Una placa-nicho cordobesa de prototipo emeritense 190; and the fragment of the pillar sv 8, Sánchez Velasco, Elementos arquitectónicos de época visigoda, 31; both pieces produced by workshops in Merida.

108

utrero agudo and villa del castillo

the prayer hall. Peña Jurado associates this plundering with the subjugation of Merida under emirate rule after the construction of the citadel (alcazaba) in 835 and the appropriation of materials as spoils of war.46 Recent archaeological research has confirmed that this phase coincides with the completion of the basilica of the martyr Santa Eulalia. The three workshops responsible for decorating this building between the mid-6th and the 8th–9th centuries also produced the elements reused in the second mosque (“Santa Eulalia ii”) and others discovered in different locations in Merida (“Casa Herrera ii” and “Mérida-Trampal”). Therefore, it seems that the basilica of Santa Eulalia was deliberately plundered at the order of the emirate authorities. This building held a symbolic meaning for the church and for the Christians of Merida. Therefore, we can assume that this plundering occurred for pragmatic (the lack of pieces in Cordoba) and ideological (symbolic appropriation of Christian elements from Merida) reasons. Lastly, this conclusion leads to the debate about an old historiographic claim: the hypothetical provenance of these pieces from late antique churches in Cordoba, and specifically from the episcopal complex of San Vicente, as discussed below.47 Having confirmed Merida as the origin of these sculptural elements, we can now state that they are actually fake symbols of false churches in Cordoba. It is worth mentioning here that the sea-shell niche discovered near the mosque has recently been identified as the miḥrāb of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān i’s mosque (fig. 5.3a).48 The decoration on the outside of the arch, which features an asymmetric tree, is part of a floral design characteristic of certain late productions near Merida (a palmette or schematic bunches of grapes and cinquefoil, represented together, for example, in a small pillar from the alcazaba, 8th– 9th century, fig. 5.3c). The symmetric tree motifs on the lateral side of the piece, which resembles another one discovered in a chancel screen panel from Santa María de Melque (Toledo, fig. 5.3b), seems to be related. However, the Cordoban example is covered by a network of strips. Based on this, we believe that this niche also comes from a workshop in Merida.

46 47 48

Peña Jurado, Estudio de la decoración arquitectónica romana 152–153. As argued by Sánchez Velasco, Elementos arquitectónicos de época visigoda; and Sánchez Ramos, Decoración arquitectónica y escultura 434. Sánchez Velasco, Elementos arquitectónicos de época visigoda 183 and later.

christianity: the architecture of a new faith (4th–7th century) 109

figure 5.3a–c

(a) Cordoba, maeco; (b) Toledo, San Martín de Montalban, Santa María de Meque, Museo de Santa Cruz nº 20524; (c) Merida, Alcazaba, ccmm nº 625-00-2 photos: author

3.1.3 Christian Sculptural Production in Cordoba (7th–10th Century) Having identified the plundered group of pieces from Merida, it is easier to analyze sculptural production in Cordoba. Unlike the traditional explanation, we believe that no pieces were produced in Cordoba before the 7th century, since all the elements dating to the 6th century are spolia from Merida.49 A workshop from Merida was established in Cordoba around the 7th century; a fact also attested in Toledo for the same period.50 The workshop produced few pieces (two capital-imposts consisting of small columns decorated

49

50

Those 6th-century elements (Camps Cazorla, El arte hispanovisigodo; Schlunk, Arte visigodo) are either part of the spolia from Merida or belong to the workshops dating from the 7th century onwards. We are unaware if this is valid for capitals, whose date is only based on formal and comparative criteria; Domingo Magaña, Capiteles tardorromanos y visigodos, only no. 186, 187 and 249 are from the 6th century. Villa del Castillo, Talleres de escultura arquitectónica 212–218.

110

utrero agudo and villa del castillo

with trefoil, sv 41 and 42), and the production is clearly different from the spolia of Merida, which arrived in the 8th and 9th centuries. The pieces are not worked in marble but in limestone and sandstone, probably obtained in the immediate area. There is also a homogeneous group of workshops in Cordoba that were operative for a long period. We have labelled this “Cordoba production, horizon i,” which dates from the 7th and 8th centuries and probably also from the 9th century. Three dated and decorated funerary stones with epigraphy provide a reliable chronology for the different phases included in this “horizon.” The oldest piece dates from 621 (cil ii2/7, 681, fig. 5.4a) and helps to date the beginning of the horizon to the first quarter of the 7th century.51 The tombstone is decorated with a large central quatrefoil surrounded by a row of secant circles. Both motifs, along with other typical symbols from the “Cordoba i” workshop (large flowers or 12-pointed stars, rows of concave rhombi, secant circles with various internal motifs), can be observed in the altar or ara of the mosque, which must be coeval (fig. 5.4c) to these examples. Another two tombstones, with incomplete dates discovered in the province of Cordoba, verify the continuity of these workshops at least until the last third of the 7th century. The first has a border of secant circles with flowers (cil ii2/5, 358, Monte Horquera, Nueva Carteya) and probably dates from the Hispanic Era 700 (the year “662” is damaged). The second, which is now lost, was decorated with an interlaced frame and flowers and probably unfinished in its day, and is at least later than 662 (cil ii2/5, 482, “Cortijo de Haza,” Santa Cruz, fig. 5.4b). The Euresio tombstone is from an even later date (cil ii2/5, 337, surroundings of Cabra, fig. 5.4d). Its composite scheme is the same as that of the abovementioned fragment dated to 621 (with epigraphy appearing on the top of a large quatrefoil and perimeter border). In addition, this piece also has motifs from a later phase of the workshop, such as circles with spirals and schematic plant motifs. As it lacks a date, and due to its inferior quality and classicism, which is probably an imitation of better pieces, it would seem to belong to a later period. A monolithic lintel or ajimez from Cordoba also belongs to the last phase of this workshop and dates from the 8th century (sv 31, fig. 5.4e). Its decoration with hexa-petal flowers with trefoil (a common theme of “Cordoba i”) also appears in a merlon from the mosque, dated not earlier than the late 8th cen-

51

Another decorated and dated epitaph belongs to an unknown workshop (607, cil ii2/7, 649).

christianity: the architecture of a new faith (4th–7th century)

figure 5.4a–f

(a) Cordoba, cil ii2/7, 681, maeco; (b) Cordoba, Santa Cruz, “cortijo de Haza,” cil ii2/5, 482; (c) Cordoba, mosque; (d) Cordoba, Cabra surroundings, today in Granada, “Mirador de Morayma” restaurant, cil ii2/5, 337; (e) Cordoba, maeco nº 10096; (f) Cordoba, mosque (a), (c), (e): photo: author, (b): photo: padrino y solís, j., memorias literarias de la real academia sevillana de buenas letras. tomo primero, sevilla 1773, (d) photo: rielo; (f) photo: gómez-moreno martínez, el arte árabe español hasta los almohades 33, fig. 26

111

112

utrero agudo and villa del castillo

tury (fig. 5.4f.).52 The perimeter frame (alfiz) was unknown in Cordoba in the 7th century, but became popular later. The “Cordoba i” workshops actually worked in other locations, all of them in the southeastern area.53 In contrast to the exclusive use of marble in spolia coming from Merida, these Cordoban workshops employed marble, limestone, and sandstone indistinctively (a geological survey has not been carried out). “Cordoba production, horizon ii” comprises a group of workshops that are even more obscure, given that the pieces are less numerous. Unlike “Cordoba i,” which in some cases are dated, the chronologies of “Cordoba ii” are based either on comparisons to other more reliably dated contexts or on specific technological features. An important part of the sculptural production from this period is associated with various workshops in Toledo, dating from the 8th and 9th centuries. Here, we must include two almost identical chancel screen panels, ornamented with a palm tree surrounded by a frame with double-threaded ribbons, including dots and windmills (sv 58 and 59, fig. 5.5a). This last motif also appears in some impost fragments located in the area of Toledo, for which we suggest a chronology of the 8th–9th century (“Los Hitos” and “Arisgotas,” Toledan workshops making spiral volutes or rinceaux, fig. 5.5b). Two decorated fragments with a large quatrefoil and a rhombus have also been identified (fig. 5.5c) and display similar motifs to a group of tables from “Los Hitos” (also from Toledan workshops making spiral volutes or rinceaux, fig. 5.5d).54 Similar to the already mentioned capital of the Evangelists (fig. 5.5e) from an unknown workshop, the use of a trepan cutting tool (visible in one of the large flowers), which was not used in the Iberian Peninsula until the end of the 8th century, makes it impossible to date it any earlier. In addition, the typology of the capital, with leaves at angles separated from the core, is unusual or virtually nonexistent in Hispanic production before the 8th century.55 We are aware that this suggestion contradicts the general opinion from Schlunk onwards and undermines the thesis on figured representations from the 7th century. However, the technical and typological features (apart from the iconographic reflections) are more characteristic of the 8th century onwards. 52

53

54 55

Gómez-Moreno Martínez, El arte árabe español 23 and fig. 10 (ajimez), 33 and fig. 26 (merlon); Sánchez Velasco, Elementos arquitectónicos de época visigoda 45; and Sánchez Ramos, Decoración arquitectónica y escultura 428; both dating from the 6th century. Pieces from “Cordoba i” have been recorded in the provinces of Cordoba (Doña Mencía, Cabra, Lucena), Jaen (Cazalilla, Jaen, Jódar, Lopera, La Guardia), and Seville (Estepa and Utrera). Utrero et al., San Pedro de la Mata 53–58. See the corpus by Domingo Magaña, Capiteles tardorromanos y visigodos.

christianity: the architecture of a new faith (4th–7th century) 113

figure 5.5a–e

(a) Cordoba, maeco nº 24544; (b) Toledo, “Los Hitos” and Arisgotas, Museo de Santa Cruz and Arisgotas; (c) Cordoba, maeco nº 23813); (d) Arisgotas, Museo Visigodo de Arisgotas; (e) Cordoba, maeco nº ce007931 photos: author

114

utrero agudo and villa del castillo

From the 8th century onwards, workshops ascribed to “Cordoba i” and “Cordoba ii” coexisted with others responsible for the decoration of Islamic monuments. Their reciprocal influence still has to be researched.56 The workshops producing sculptures for the churches in Cordoba must have come to an end in the mid-9th century, as occurred in Merida and Toledo, but this has yet to be confirmed. 3.2 In Search of Churches in Cordoba (4th–7th Century) The late antique city did not respect the previous Roman topography; public spaces were either abandoned or occupied. The 5th–6th-century Christian urban topography is believed to comprise an intramural episcopal basilica with a baptistery and episcopal palace or domus and an extramural basilica dedicated to martyrs with a funerary and pilgrimage function, commonly overseen by a monastic community. The attempt to identify the late antique topography and the episcopal see in Corduba still relies strongly on later Islamic written records devoted to the Great Mosque. There are no coeval Christian records that gather data about the episcopal complex, and those dating from the Islamic period are insufficient. Archaeological knowledge of the mosque comes from the excavations performed by the architect Félix Hernández in the 1930s, whose surveys and results had not been published until recently.57 In turn, the excavation of the suburban palace of Cercadilla in the 1990s drastically changed the image of the late antique city by providing an enormous amount of data and adding another probable candidate to the episcopal complex.58 The Great Mosque and Cercadilla, as we aim to show, are key to explaining the transformation and transition of Cordoba from the Christian to the Islamic period and highlighting how much (or how little) we know about the late antique period. In addition, research has tried to match sculptural materials, mostly dating from the Visigothic period but lacking an archaeological context, to architectural remains, these have written records but are uncertain materially.59 Furthermore, the building evidence is disputed in terms of reconstruction (plan, volume, liturgical elements, etc.), as the ruins of the sites of San Vicente

56 57

58 59

Villa del Castillo, Talleres de escultura arquitectónica 340–341. Marfil Ruiz, La sede episcopal cordobesa; Fernández-Puertas, Mezquita de Córdoba; Sánchez Ramos, Sobre el grupo episcopal de Corduba; Bermúdez Cano, El atrium del complejo episcopal cordubensis. Hidalgo Prieto and Marfil Ruiz, El yacimiento arqueológico de Cercadilla. Sánchez Velasco, Elementos arquitectónicos de época visigoda 196–237; Ordóñez et al., Novedades arqueológicas de las Sedes 356–368.

christianity: the architecture of a new faith (4th–7th century) 115

and Santa Clara exemplify. In addition, the written records and the data they provide are also not free from dispute, as is shown, for example, by the variety of proposals regarding the location of the church of San Acisclo (the sites include Cercadilla, the amphitheater, and the Cortijo de Chinales). Referring back to the sculptural evidence, we must also bear in mind what we have said so far. During the emirate, elements produced in Cordoba were mixed with others imported from Merida. These heterogeneous groups are due to the long-distance transit of material and its continuous reuse in different periods for various purposes. These groups of pieces are not usually discovered in a single archaeological dig or site but are actually the result of various interventions in different locations, and frequently over a period of many decades. All of these circumstances must be considered when trying to identify the late antique topography of Cordoba, especially when identifying and dating its Christian buildings given that these factors strongly limit our knowledge and may lead to hasty and misleading interpretations. We now review the archaeological evidence. Several studies have tried to identify three late antique churches within the city walls (San Vicente, Santa Clara, and Duque de Hornachuelos) and up to eleven outside the walls. Given that the church of San Vicente is supposedly the main building of the episcopal complex of Cordoba, it should be discussed first. The presence of a Christian church under the Great Mosque has been the subject of debate since the first excavations in the hall and the courtyard led by Félix Hernández in the 1930s. The architect disappointedly admitted that no traces of a proper early Christian or Visigothic ecclesiastical building were found in either of the two areas.60 This was probably also the reason why Hernández did not publish the results, as they were quite different from what he had expected.61 A few years later, based on the contradictory, late Islamic written records, Ocaña Jiménez defended the existence of the basilica of San Vicente underneath the mosque.62 Until now, this has been the prevailing opinion, leaving aside the lack of any material evidence, and the clear rejection by Gómez-Moreno Martínez, who provides a brief but clear description of the evidence.63 According to other examples in the Iberian Peninsula and to recent interpretations of archaeological finds, this

60 61 62 63

Vicent Zaragoza, Perfil científico y humano 176; Caballero Zoreda, “Impacto” del Islam en la arquitectura 29. Arce Sainz, La supuesta basílica de San Vicente 13. Ocaña Jiménez, La basílica de San Vicente. Gómez-Moreno Martínez, El arte árabe español 19–20.

116

utrero agudo and villa del castillo

complex should be located within the city walls. Indeed, it would make sense for there to be an episcopal church and, as such, San Vicente is the perfect candidate.64 Taking into account the most accurate critical historiographic and archaeological reviews recently published by Arce Sainz,65 the notes of Hernández and Gómez-Moreno Martínez, and the latest research by Marfil Ruiz,66 it seems clear that no ecclesiastical construction can be identified in the hitherto unknown material remains. The basilica-like building found in the courtyard does not have the required orientation and seems to have several rooms and two lateral exedrae, which could possibly be a late Roman porticus according to Gómez-Moreno Martínez, or an industrial complex according to Caballero Zoreda.67 The construction found in the hall is even more uncertain in its form, built in rough stone masonry and resting on top of the Roman mosaics.68 However, its construction seems to be the result of putting together walls from different periods (different levels and unusual physical relationships between the structures have been documented), making it impossible to reconstruct a single building.69 Not without reservations, further recent remains have been interpreted as administrative or civil buildings belonging to the episcopal see and located in the southwest.70 However, if the church of San Vicente was in the location of the later Aljama Mosque, it is yet to be discovered. Having rejected the hypothesis that the reused materials in the Mosque of Cordoba are local and that it was built on the same site as the episcopal church

64 65 66 67 68

69 70

Sánchez Ramos, Sobre el grupo episcopal de Corduba; and Sánchez Ramos, Las ciudades de la Bética 257–259; Bermúdez Cano, El atrium del complejo episcopal cordubensis. Arce Sainz, La supuesta basílica de San Vicente; we refer to this study in order to go deeper in the many other aspects concerning San Vicente. Marfil Ruiz, Córdoba de Teodosio a ʿAbd al-Raḥmān i. Gómez-Moreno Martínez, El arte árabe español 19; Caballero Zoreda, “Impacto” del Islam en la arquitectura 29. Vicent Zaragoza (Perfil científico y humano 176) mentions how Hernández considered that no traces of an apse were found and that the hypothetical main nave was too narrow for a principal building. Arce Sainz (La supuesta basílica de San Vicente 35–37) critiques the reconstruction of a church hypothesized by Sánchez Ramos, Sobre el grupo episcopal de Corduba. Marfil Ruiz and Arjona Castro (Nuevos hallazgos arqueológicos) documents a stout wall (2 meters thick), dating from the 6th century, thought to be the southern limit of the episcopal palace; Casal García and Salinas Pleguezuelo (Informe-memoria de la i.a.u. 716) identifies a building of rough stone masonry and reused material (L 10,50m) with hydraulic structures dating from the 6th–7th century. For a synthesis and interpretation together with the so-called Visigothic castellum, see León and Murillo, El complejo civil tardoantiguo de Córdoba.

christianity: the architecture of a new faith (4th–7th century) 117

of San Vicente,71 we now turn our attention to the large group of pieces on display in the Visigoth Museum of the Basilica of San Vicente. Only three of the fragments come from the archaeological excavation undertaken by Félix Hernández (a plaque-niche, fig. 5.6a, a fragment of an early Christian sarcophagus, fig. 5.6b, and what is assumed to be a small basin).72 We are unaware of the location and circumstances of the discovery of the sarcophagus, which was later reused in an unspecified period. The plaque-niche was made at a workshop in Merida and might have been imported in the 8th or 9th century, together with the pieces reused in the building. Two chancel screen panels were transformed into window screens, possibly during the emirate,73 and a third panel was reused in the 10th century. The three pieces are again from Merida and date to the 8th and 9th centuries (figs. 5.6c–e). The rest of the pieces from this museum, some thought to belong to the “Cordoba i” workshop (an altar ara and impost),74 are from an unknown source. In summary, this is a collection of heterogeneous pieces of distinct origin (Merida and Cordoba), make, and chronology (6th–9th century) and from an unknown context. They might have been brought to be used in the construction of the mosque or, on the contrary, might have come from somewhere else and were reused in the early Middle Ages or later. Some of the examples associated with the mosque are without doubt from the 8th or 9th centuries (pieces from the “Mérida-Trampal” workshop, fig. 5.6e). The former mosque (probably late 10th century) and later church of Santa Catalina and convent of Santa Clara75 is located close to the Great Mosque on Rey Heredia Street. Its interior was excavated in the 1980s, revealing foundations that were thought to be part of a cruciform church set within a rectangular floor plan with three semicircular apses at the eastern end and a northern entrance, dating from the late 6th century, associated with the nearby episcopal church of San Vicente.76 The main reason for dating these foundations to the 71 72 73 74

75 76

Defended by Marfil Ruiz, Córdoba de Teodosio a ʿAbd al-Raḥmān i 125; and Sánchez Ramos, Decoración arquitectónica y escultura 433–434. Fernández-Puertas, Mezquita de Córdoba 75. Nieto Cumplido, La catedral de Córdoba 50. The element identified as most likely being the altar table top (Sastre de Diego, Los altares de las iglesias hispanas, 521, and15, actually a fragment of an impost) comes from the door of the cathedral of Santa Catalina, where it was reused as a step until 1895 (Nieto Cumplido, La catedral de Córdoba 51). The marble altar ara is unknown in origin but is documented in the mosque from the 19th century; Nieto Cumplido, La catedral de Córdoba 49. See chapter by Murillo Fragero in this publication. According to Marfil Ruiz, El templo paleocristiano descubierto, it is built during the alleged Byzantine occupation of Cordoba (554–572).

118

utrero agudo and villa del castillo

figure 5.6a–e

Cordoba, pieces recovered in the mosque (a)–(d): photo: author; (e) photo: brisch, die fenstergitter und verwandte ornamente der hauptmoschee von córdoba taf. 31, a).

Byzantine 6th century is the mosaics, which are similar to those found in the Great Mosque in terms of style and building technique.77

77

Marfil Ruiz, El templo paleocristiano descubierto; Marfil Ruiz, La sede episcopal cordobesa; and Marfil Ruiz, Córdoba de Teodosio a ʿAbd al-Raḥmān i 130–134, fig. 11. Also considered Byzantine by Ordóñez et al., Novedades arqueológicas de las Sedes 358.

christianity: the architecture of a new faith (4th–7th century) 119

Some researchers have already highlighted that this reconstruction is misleading.78 Neither traces of the three apses, allegedly facing northeast, nor liturgical elements have been discovered (the chancel is actually a threshold). Given that the walls were built later and cut across the mosaics, these cannot be coetaneous. The mosaics are facing different directions, thus indicating that they might be from different periods. Moreover, the walls and mosaics have different orientations, and most of the walls were reconstructed on the basis of an assumed symmetry; only the southeastern walls have been excavated. In view of the evidence, Santa Clara seems to be a housing complex, most likely dating from the 6th century, or even earlier, whose anomalies might be understood if we take into account that several of its structures were reused and date from different periods (at least Roman and Late Roman).79 The archaeological excavation of the site located in Duque de Hornachuelos Street reveals a late antique building with thick walls built with reused material bonded with mud, which continues eastwards.80 Sánchez Velasco associates this evidence with further sculptural fragments discovered by Santos Gener to suggest that a basilica, probably with a baptistery reusing earlier water infrastructures from Roman baths, was built in the 5th, ornamented in the 6th, and refounded in the 7th century, according to an inscription.81 We believe this hypothesis is erroneous. First, neither a basilica floor plan nor a baptistery were found, and reconstruction makes no sense from an architectural standpoint or in terms of the use of space. Only a long, interrupted wall with a “stepped” design was uncovered. Second, the shaft, with an inscription referring to the reconstruction of a church in 657 ad (cil ii2/7, 640), documented by Santos Gener was found in a nearby location, so again we lack evidence of a direct relationship between building and inscription. Third, the sculptural material associated with this site is again heterogeneous and ranges chronologically from the 8th (ajimez, fig. 5.4e) to the 10th century (caliphal tabletop, sv 64, vid. n. 96), which exceeds the Visigothic period. Fourth, no other elements were found to verify an ecclesiastical use. Its monumental structure probably indicates a public function, but not necessary an ecclesiastical one.

78 79 80 81

Caballero Zoreda, “Impacto” del Islam en la arquitectura 30; Utrero, Las iglesias cruciformes 143; Sánchez Ramos, Las ciudades de la Bética 262–264. A recent and doubtful interpretation as an ecclesiastical building or domus by Ruiz-Bueno and González-Gutiérrez, De “iglesia” tardoantigua a mezquita califal. Ruiz Nieto, Informe-memoria de la intervención arqueológica 259 and 263. Sánchez Velasco, Elementos arquitectónicos de época visigoda 197 and 201, fig. 83; and Sánchez Velasco, Hoc fundauit ipse. La actividad edilicia 295–296. Ordóñez et al., Novedades arqueológicas de las Sedes 356–358.

120

utrero agudo and villa del castillo

Moving outside the city walls, with the exception of Cercadilla, the remains are even more uncertain. We will start by examining those for which there is architectural evidence. The unearthing of the building complex in Cercadilla, in the northern part of the suburban area, in the early 1990s provided valuable data regarding the site itself, and also for the debate on the location of the episcopal basilica. Given that Cercadilla is explained in greater depth in this volume,82 here we will focus on the transformation of the former monumental civil structure, which comprises a large semicircular cryptoporticus (25 meters in diameter) surrounded by residential and administrative buildings, into a funerary church. To do so, the large hall in the northern area of the cryptoporticus was used by transforming the central apse of the trichora into a sanctuary (“G building”) and by dividing the hall into three naves by introducing arcades resting on pillars built with reused ashlar stone. This adaptation for religious purposes took place before the early 6th century. As it is a so-called “martyrdom” construction in a suburban area, Hidalgo believes it was dedicated to San Acisclo, who would have been martyred there, while Marfil believes it was first consecrated to San Felix and later, once the episcopal see had moved to San Vicente in the early 7th century, to San Zoilo.83 In a secondary context, inside and outside the building a small group of decorative and liturgical sculptures was discovered and dated by Hidalgo Prieto to the 6th and early 8th centuries.84 Some of the pieces, fragments of small shafts and an altar tabletop, were studied by Bermúdez Cano and dated to the 6th century, which coincides with the chronology of the transformation of the building into a church proposed by Hidalgo Prieto.85 We know of another five pieces from the same location, but all of them are quite damaged.86 They belong to the local “Cordoba i” workshop,87 which is coherent with the material it employed 82 83

84 85

86 87

See the chapter by Fuertes and Hidalgo in this publication. Hidalgo Prieto, De edificio imperial a complejo de culto. The opposite of Marfil Ruiz, Córdoba de Teodosio a ʿAbd al-Raḥmān i; Sánchez Velasco, Hoc fundauit ipse. La actividad edilicia; and Ordóñez et al., Novedades arqueológicas de las Sedes. Hidalgo Prieto, De edificio imperial a complejo de culto 348. Bermúdez Cano, Mobiliario litúrgico del complejo cultual. The chronology of this altar table top could later be extended to the 7th century, see Sastre de Diego, Los altares de las iglesias hispanas, and18. Bermúdez Cano, Mobiliario litúrgico del complejo cultual 278, n. 2. Sánchez Velasco (Elementos arquitectónicos de época visigoda 217, fig. 99) believes that another two pieces belong to Cercadilla. The first one, dating from the 6th century, was not uncovered in the excavations of the 1990s and belongs to the Santa Eulalia ii workshop (fig. 2c). The second one (sv 72) is decorated with a trefoil motif on a small arch and seems to be an import from Merida.

christianity: the architecture of a new faith (4th–7th century) 121

(local limestone):88 a plaque with empty rhombi (unpublished or unknown bibliographic references); an impost with secant circles lined up with small geometric crosses and dots (sv 38); a fragment of a plaque with a network of secant circles and flowers (unpublished or unknown bibliographic references); and a fragment of impost with a network of rhombi and dots (sv 37). Their poor quality and dependency on old models suggest a chronology from the last third of the 7th century onwards. If these last pieces did indeed belong to a Christian construction, a reform between the late 7th and early 8th centuries must be considered. In a recent study carried out on the Roman amphitheater, three semicircular spaces (8 meters in diameter) attached to its podium wall have been interpreted as part of a Christian martyrdom basilica commissioned by Bishop Osio. According to archaeologists, this church must have been built on the site where San Acisclo was martyred, which transforms Cercadilla into the site of the episcopal see.89 However, much of the material evidence invites us to reject this idea.90 Only one burial of a child was excavated at quite a far distance from the hypothetical apses, making it difficult to justify the funerary character of this site. No other walls associated with the apses were discovered, and those that were seem to be connected to the amphitheater, given that they have the same elliptical design. No other features, such as pavement, doors, liturgical elements, or internal divisions have been described, apart from the fact that it is unclear whether the three apses belong to one or three churches. Hidalgo Prieto suggests that the apses were actually part of the infrastructure and/or of the reinforcement of the Roman construction.91 This seems to be the most coherent proposal. The monastic complex of San Acisclo has also been identified using the evidence found in the so-called “Cortijo de Chinales” in the western suburban area. León and Murillo mention recent archaeological interventions (unreferenced), which unearthed a building with two burials and a large number of sculptures and inscriptions dating from the 6th and 7th centuries.92 Based on the studies of Santos Gener, Sánchez Ramos and Sánchez Velasco have reconstructed a rectangular, north-south facing building measuring 75 meters long and 50

88 89 90 91 92

Hidalgo Prieto, De edificio imperial a complejo de culto 348. Murillo et al., La transición de la civitas clásica. Sánchez Ramos, Las ciudades de la Bética 271; Hidalgo Prieto, Sobre el supuesto centro de culto. Hidalgo Prieto, Sobre el supuesto centro de culto 264–266. León and Murillo, Las comunidades dhimmis cristianas 157.

122

utrero agudo and villa del castillo

meters wide. However, nothing more can be confirmed regarding this undocumented building.93 Among all the sculptural fragments attributed to this site,94 some examples were produced by different workshops between the 6th and the 10th centuries. Three fragments belong to workshops from Merida (sv 53, 6th century; capitalimpost sv 22, 7th century; plaque fragment sv 56, 8th–9th century); two pieces belong to workshops from Cordoba (sv 40 and sv 51, late 7th and 8th centuries); and table sv 65 corresponds to a 10th-century caliphal workshop.95 Furthermore, all the fragments were discovered in reused contexts, so caution should be taken when confirming the existence of an ecclesiastical building based only on this evidence. Again, this is a mixed group of elements belonging to different constructions and periods. In the 1970s, restoration work undertaken at the convent of La Merced, the current headquarters of the regional government council (Diputación), in the northern suburban area, revealed a hydraulic structure thought to be the only baptistery known in Cordoba.96 However, its form is unique, as it is composed of two connected pools. The first is rectangular and has steps on both sides, while the second is extremely large, semicircular in shape (L 4.35 × W 3.25 × H 1.55 meters), and fitted with a double water spout system in the steps. Furthermore, its Roman date forces us to think that it was later used as a site for Christian worship, as we lack any further evidence (neither a necropolis nor architectural structures) to support its use as a religious building.

93

94

95

96

Sánchez Ramos, La incidencia del cristianismo, by quoting an unpublished report (Morena López, J.A. Informe preliminar. Seguimiento arqueológico Parcela B. Manzana 6-Polígono 1. Plan Parcial P-1 (Polígono de Poniente). p.g.o.u. de Córdoba, Córdoba 1993), dates the tombs to the 4th–6th century and says that this building was constructed in opus quadratum. Sánchez Velasco, Elementos arquitectónicos 223, fig. 107. He also ascribes the decorated marble column Santos Gener found nearby to this site. Another three examples similar to this have been documented: one that is stored at maeco and two that were reused in the mosque (in the bay leading to the miḥrāb of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii, which may have been replaced by Hernán Ruiz in the 16th century). Similar to the wall plaques in the Great Mosque of Cordoba (Gómez-Moreno Martínez, El arte árabe español, figs. 131 and 133) and Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ (from the bath located in the house of the Alberca, Vallejo Triano, La ciudad califal de Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ 429, fig. 355). This contrasts with Sánchez Velasco, Elementos arquitectónicos de época visigoda, who dates both fragments to the 6th century (sv 64 and 65). Hidalgo Prieto (Algunas cuestiones sobre la Corduba 409–411) expresses doubts. Sánchez Velasco, Elementos arquitectónicos de época visigoda 218–219; and Ordóñez et al., Novedades arqueológicas de las sedes 364, identified the structure with the basilica of Santa Eulalia.

christianity: the architecture of a new faith (4th–7th century) 123

Apart from these three sites, other Christian suburban temples have been proposed based only on isolated and noncontextualized sculptural findings.97 A large group of pieces was discovered in the Campo de la Verdad archaeological site in the 1940s. The group comprises elements brought from Merida dating from the 6th (capital-impost sv 23) and the 7th centuries (capital-impost sv 42), but also from the 8th–9th century (plaque sv 47); from Cordoba, dating from the 7th–8th century (plaque sv 45and capital-impost sv 36), along with other fragments that are difficult to date (sv 61 and 80). This hypothetic building complex is a good example of how difficult is to associate noncontextualized evidence with the existence of an unrecorded Christian church.98 If the church had existed, it would have been decorated (and/or restored) at least four times by four different artisans; a circumstance that is difficult to explain and unique in the Iberian Peninsula. Another example is the current cemetery of Nuestra Señora de la Salud, located in the southwestern area, where an altar ara (as above, Sastre de Diego: and16)99 was supposedly discovered dating from the 6th century. Other fragments dating from the 6th century but lacking archaeological contexts,100 such as the possible chancel screen found in Huerta de la Camila and now housed at the Fine Arts Museum of Cordoba and the abovementioned lintel (fig. 5.2i) coming from the neighborhood of Santa Marina, actually date from the 8th century onwards.101

4

Conclusions

Regarding the identification of late antique Christian topography and ecclesiastical buildings, Cordoba is a good example of how difficult it is to recover episcopal sees in the historical centers of modern cities that have been densely inhabited for centuries. For this reason, researchers sometimes focus on suburban areas, which are better known and have monumental complexes (exem-

97 98 99

100 101

A complete list can be found in Sánchez Velasco, Elementos arquitectónicos de época visigoda; and Ordóñez et al., Novedades arqueológicas de las sedes. Ordóñez et al., Novedades arqueológicas de las sedes 366, identified with San Cristobal. Sánchez Ramos, Decoración arquitectónica y escultura 427–428; Sastre de Diego, Los altares de las iglesias hispanas 251–252; Ordóñez et al., Novedades arqueológicas de las sedes 361, which adds a base reused for a Christian altar. However, we believe this is unlikely. Sánchez Ramos, Decoración arquitectónica y escultura 428 (lintel); Ordóñez et al., Novedades arqueológicas de las Sedes 363 and 365. Villa del Castillo, Talleres de escultura arquitectónica no. 458 (fig. 2 i) and 465 (Huerta de la Camila).

124

utrero agudo and villa del castillo

plified by Cercadilla),102 although in Cordoba the mosque and the associated Islamic written records have been a challenge. Both Cercadilla and the center of Cordoba are currently competing for the attention of researchers. And between both of them (the intramural and extramural areas), a large urban space has been occupied by a network of disperse constructions based on unknown or uncertain evidence (basilicas, cruciform churches) embellished with sculptural fragments from different locations and of diverse chronologies. The only convincing late antique church that has been documented is in Cercadilla. Sculptural production throughout late antiquity is not attested in Cordoba between the 4th and 6th centuries. Imported (Merida, 6th–9th century) and local (“Cordoba i” and “ii,” 6th–9th century) sculptural elements are recorded later and confirm that Cordoba was the third most important and active center of production, after Merida and Toledo, from the 7th century onwards. This hypothesis opens new avenues of research regarding the building activity and the distinction between places of production, places of use, places of reuse, and current sites of discovery, as highlighted by the origin of the plundered material from Merida reused in the mosque. These sculptural materials cannot be understood as evidence of a “building fever”103 because they were moved from one place to another, came from different regions, and were reused over and over. Neither are they concentrated in the 6th century, thus confirming that Cordoba was a center of production for Islamic and Christian elements from the 8th century onwards. Further archaeological and geological approaches, among others, will help move the research forward. However, our primary conclusion goes beyond these aspects. Archaeology is material culture in context, and if we forget that, it is not archaeology but antiquarianism. Linking sculptural archaeological and topographic evidence of unknown origin with architectural remains lacking archaeological data take us back to old-fashioned and outdated ways of doing research. Adapting material evidence to written references is also risky because both are independent data sources and they do not necessary correspond. This produces historical explanations as attractive as they are false, supported by clues but not by evidence. Their discussion requires much time and energy, as this chapter has attempted to demonstrate. In this regard, it is essential that we recognize what we know and what we ignore, of what data can be trusted and what cannot. In fact, this is the only way to advance the research. 102

103

Arbeiter, ¿Primitivas sedes episcopales hispánicas en los suburbia?, highlights that this image cannot be reliable, because it is an exception in the whole of the Mediterranean area. Ordóñez et al., Novedades arqueológicas de las Sedes 355.

christianity: the architecture of a new faith (4th–7th century) 125

Acknowledgement This paper is the result of the project “Arqueología de las iglesias hispánicas del siglo x: la circulación de modelos arquitectónicos y decorativos. ii. har2017– 84927-P” funded by the Spanish Ministry of Economy and Competitiveness (mineco) and aei/feder, ue.

Bibliography Primary Sources al-Maqqarī, Nafḥ al-ṭīb min guṣn al-Andalus al-raṭīb, in P. de Gayangos (ed.), The history of the Mohammedan dynasties in Spain, vol. 2, London 1843. Ibn Ḥayyān, Almuqtabis ii-1, eds. M. ali Makki and F. Corriente, Zaragoza 2001. al-Rāzī, Aḥmad, Crónica del Moro Rasis (Fuentes cronísticas de la Edad Media de España 3), ed. M.S. Diego Catalán, Madrid 1975.

Secondary Sources Acién Almansa, M., and Vallejo Triano, A., Urbanismo y estado islámico: de Corduba a Qurţuba—Madīnat al-Zahrā, in P. Cressier and M. García Arenal (eds.), Genèse de la ville islamique en al-Andalus et au Maghreb occidental, Madrid 1998, 107–136. Arbeiter, A., ¿Primitivas sedes episcopales hispánicas en los suburbia? La problemática cara a las usanzas del ámbito mediterráneo occidental, in D. Vaquerizo (ed.), Las áreas Suburbanas en la ciudad histórica. Topografía, usos, función, Córdoba 2010, 413–434. Arce Sainz, F., La supuesta basílica de San Vicente en Córdoba: de mito historiográfico a obstinación historiográfica, in Al-Qanṭara 36/1 (2015), 11–44. Azuar, R., De Arqueología Mozárabe. ii. De sus iglesias y documentos epigráficos, in Arqueología y Territorio Medieval 23 (2016), 75–102. Bermúdez Cano, J.M., Una placa-nicho cordobesa de prototipo emeritense, in Anales de Arqueología Cordobesa 16 (2005), 181–192. Bermúdez Cano, J.M., El atrium del complejo episcopal cordubensis. Una propuesta sobre la funcionalidad de las estructuras tardoantiguas del patio de la mezquita de Córdoba, in Romula 9 (2010), 315–341. Bermúdez Cano, J.M., Mobiliario litúrgico del complejo cultual cristiano de Cercadilla, Córdoba (Columnas, estípites y mensa), in Romula 10 (2011), 277–306. Bermúdez Cano, J.M., and E. León Pastor, Piezas decorativas visigodas del alcázar cordobés, in Anejos de Anales de Arqueología Cordobesa 1 (2008), 85–106. Brisch, K., Die Fenstergitter und verwandte Ornamente der Hauptmoschee von Córdoba, Berlin 1966.

126

utrero agudo and villa del castillo

Caballero Zoreda, L., Un canal de transmisión de lo clásico en la Alta Edad Media española. Arquitectura de influjo omeya en la Península Ibérica entre mediados del siglo viii e inicios del x, in Al-Qanṭara 15–16 (1994–1995), 109–124 and 107–124. Caballero Zoreda, L., Arquitectura visigótica y musulmana. ¿Continuidad, concurrencia o innovación?, in A. Velázquez (ed.), Ruptura o continuidad. Pervivencias preislámicas en Al-Andalus, Mérida 1999, 143–176. Caballero Zoreda, L., “Impacto” del Islam en la arquitectura cristiana que se conservó o se construyó en al-Andalus (o bajo dominio musulmán), in A. Jiménez (ed.), De Hispalis a Isbiliya, Sevilla 2009, 14–58. Caballero Zoreda, L., Producciones constructivas y decorativas. Indicadores cronológico-culturales de la alta Edad Media hispánica, in Archivo Español de Arqueología 86 (2013), 187–214. Camps Cazorla, E., El arte hispanovisigodo, in Historia de España dirigida por Menéndez Pidal iii, Madrid 1940, 435–608. Casal García, M.ª T., and M.ª E. Salinas Pleguezuelo, Informe-memoria de la i.a.u. en la Puerta del Puente y en la Parcela catastral 36394/09, in Anuario de Arqueología de Andalucía 2004.1: Córdoba (2009), 711–722. Cruz Villalón, M., Mérida visigoda. La escultura arquitectónica y litúrgica, Badajoz 1985. Cruz Villalón, M., La plástica asturiana y su relación con la creación visigoda y andalusí, in L. Caballero Zoreda, P. Mateos Cruz, and C. García de Castro Valdés (eds.), Asturias entre visigodos y mozárabes, Madrid 2012, 147–178. Chavarría Arnau, A., Obispos, iglesias y suburbio. Sobre la errónea ubicación de algunos complejos episcopales en la Hispania tardoantigua, in D. Vaquerizo (ed.), Las áreas Suburbanas en la ciudad histórica. Topografía, usos, función, Córdoba 2010, 435–454. Domingo Magaña, J.A., Capiteles tardorromanos y visigodos en la Península Ibérica (siglos iv–viii d.C.), Tarragona 2011. Ewert, Ch., and J.P. Wisshak, Forschungen zur almohadischen Moschee. Lieferung 1: Vorstufen, Mainz am Rhein 1981. Fernández-Puertas, A., Mezquita de Córdoba. Su estudio arqueológico en el siglo xx, Granada 2009. García García, M.Á., Sarcófagos romanos decorados del siglo iv en territorio andaluz: enfoques y problemática vigente, in spal 21 (2012), 183–193. García Sanjuán, A., La formación de la doctrina legal mālikí sobre lugares de culto de los ḏimmíes, in M. Fierro and J. Tolan (eds.), The legal status of ḏimmī-s in the Islamic west (second/eighth–ninth/fifteenth centuries), Turnhout 2013, 131–156. Gómez-Moreno Martínez, M., Iglesias Mozárabes. Arte Español de los siglos ix al xi, Madrid 1919. Gómez-Moreno Martínez, M., El arte árabe español hasta los almohades. Arte Mozárabe, in Ars Hispaniae. Historia Universal del Arte Hispánico iii, Madrid 1951, 355– 409.

christianity: the architecture of a new faith (4th–7th century) 127 Hidalgo Prieto, R., De edificio imperial a complejo de culto: la ocupación cristiana del palacio de Cercadilla, in D. Vaquerizo (ed.), Espacios y usos funerarios en el Occidente Romano, Córdoba 2002, 343–372. Hidalgo Prieto, R., Algunas cuestiones sobre la Corduba de la Antigüedad Tardía, in vi Reunió d’Arqueologia Cristiana Hispànica (Valencia 2003), Barcelona 2005, 401–414. Hidalgo Prieto, R., Sobre el supuesto centro de culto cristiano del anfiteatro de Córdoba, in Habis 43 (2012), 249–274. Hidalgo Prieto, R., and P. Marfil Ruiz, El yacimiento arqueológico de Cercadilla: avance de resultados, in Anales de Arqueología Cordobesa 3 (1992), 277–308. León, A., and J.F. Murillo, El complejo civil tardoantiguo de Córdoba y su continuidad en el alcázar omeya, in Madrider Mitteilungen 50 (2009), 399–432. León, A., and J.F. Murillo, Las comunidades dhimmis cristianas en la Córdoba omeya. Posibilidades y límites de su visibilidad arqueológica, in al-Mulk 15 (2017), 141–170. Marfil Ruiz, P., El templo paleocristiano descubierto en la antigua iglesia del convento de Santa Clara de Córdoba, in Boletín de la Real Academia de Córdoba de Ciencias, Bellas Letras y Nobles Artes 131 (1996), 197–208. Marfil Ruiz, P., Córdoba de Teodosio a ʿAbd al-Raḥmān i, in L. Caballero Zoreda and P. Mateos Cruz (eds.), Visigodos y omeyas: un debate entre la Antigüedad tardía y la Alta Edad Media, Madrid 2000, 117–142. Marfil Ruiz, P., La sede episcopal cordobesa en época bizantina: Evidencia arqueológica, in v Reunió d’Arqueologia Cristiana Hispànica (Cartagena 1998), Barcelona 2000, 157–175. Marfil Ruiz, P., and A. Arjona Castro, Nuevos hallazgos arqueológicos en el entorno de la mezquita: excavaciones en Ronda de Isasa nº2 (Córdoba). Del Balāt al-Hurr a las Casa de los Rehenes en la Córdoba islámica, in Boletín de la Real Academia de Córdoba, de Ciencias, Bellas Letras y Nobles Artes 78/139 (2000), 115–136. Molénat, J.-P., La place des chrétiens dans la Cordoue des Omeyyades, d’après leurs églises (viiie–xe siècles), in Al-Qanṭara 33/1 (2012), 147–168. Murillo, J.F., et al., La transición de la civitas clásica cristianizada a la madina islámica a través de las transformaciones operadas en las áreas suburbiales, in D. Vaquerizo and J.F. Murillo (eds.), El Anfiteatro Romano de Córdoba y su entorno urbano. Análisis arqueológico (ss. i–xiii d.C.), Córdoba 2010, 503–547. Nieto Cumplido, M., La catedral de Córdoba, Córdoba 1998. Ocaña Jiménez, M., La basílica de San Vicente y la gran mezquita de Córdoba. Nuevo examen de los textos, in al-Andalus 7/2 (1942), 347–366. Ordóñez, Agulla, et al., Novedades arqueológicas de las Sedes Episcopales de la Bética Occidental, in Antiquité Tardive 21 (2013), 321–374. Peña Jurado, A., Estudio de la decoración arquitectónica romana y análisis del reaprovechamiento de material en la Mezquita Aljama de Córdoba, Córdoba 2010. Ríos y Serrano, J.A. de los, El Arte Latino-Bizantino en España y las coronas visigodas de Guarrazar. Ensayo histórico-crítico, Madrid 1861.

128

utrero agudo and villa del castillo

Ríos y Serrano, J.A. de los, Monumentos latino-bizantinos de Córdoba. Monumentos Arquitectónicos de España, Madrid 1879. Ruiz-Bueno, M., and C. González-Gutiérrez, De “iglesia” tardoantigua a mezquita califal. Revisión arqueológica de las estructuras conservadas en calle Rey Heredia 20 (Córdoba), in Munibe 68 (2017), 22, (digital publication). Ruiz Nieto, E., Informe-memoria de la intervención arqueológica en la C/Duque de Hornachuelos, 8 (Córdoba), in Anuario Arqueológico de Andalucía 2003. iii: Actividades de Urgencia, vol. 1 (2006), 254–265. Sánchez Ramos, I., La incidencia del cristianismo en el mundo funerario romano cordubense, in D. Vaquerizo (ed.), in Espacio y usos funerarios en el Occidente romano: actas del Congreso Internacional, vol. 2, Córdoba 2002, 325–342. Sánchez Ramos, I., Decoración arquitectónica y escultura litúrgica en Corduba, in Hortus Artium Medievalium 13/2 (2007), 423–440. Sánchez Ramos, I., Sobre el grupo episcopal de Corduba, in Pyrenae 40/1 (2009), 121– 147. Sánchez Ramos, I., Las ciudades de la Bética en la Antigüedad Tardía, in Antiquité Tardive 18 (2010), 243–276. Sánchez Velasco, J., Elementos arquitectónicos de época visigoda en el Museo Arqueológico de Córdoba. Arquitectura y Urbanismo en la Córdoba visigoda, Sevilla 2006. Sánchez Velasco, J., Hoc fundauit ipse. La actividad edilicia de los obispos en Córdoba: el episcopum de Cercadilla, in xv Congreso Internacional de Arqueología Cristiana (Toledo 2008), Roma 2013, 295–308. Santos Gener, S. de los, Museo Arqueológico de Córdoba, in Memorias de los Museos Arqueológicos Provinciales i (1940), Madrid 1941, 42–60. Santos Gener, S. de los, Las artes en Córdoba durante la dominación de los pueblos germánicos, in Boletín de la Real Academia de Córdoba, de Ciencias, Bellas Artes y Nobles Artes 78 (1958), 147–192. Sastre de Diego, I., Los altares de las iglesias hispanas tardoantiguas y altomedievales. Estudio Arqueológico, Oxford 2013. Schlunk, H., Arte visigodo. Arte asturiano, in Ars Hispaniae. Historia Universal del Arte Hispánico, ii, Madrid 1947, 227–247. Schlunk, H., and Th. Hauschild, Die Denkmäler der frühchristlichen und westgotischen Zeit, Mainz am Rhein 1978. Sotomayor, M., Sarcófagos romano-cristianos de España. Estudio iconográfico, Granada 1975. Utrero, M.ªÁ., Iglesias tardoantiguas y altomedievales en la Península Ibérica. Análisis arqueológico y sistemas de abovedamiento, Madrid 2006. Utrero, M.ªÁ., Las iglesias cruciformes del siglo vii en la Península Ibérica, in L. Caballero Zoreda, P. Mateos Cruz, and M.ªÁ. Utrero Agudo (eds.), El siglo vii frente al siglo vii, Madrid 2009, 133–154.

christianity: the architecture of a new faith (4th–7th century) 129 Utrero, M.ªÁ., et al., San Pedro de la Mata (Sonseca, Toledo). Construir y decorar una iglesia altomedieval en piedra, in Archivo Español de Arqueología 89 (2016), 45–69. Vallejo Triano, A., La ciudad califal de Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ. Arqueología de su excavación, Córdoba 2010. Vicent Zaragoza, A.M., Nuevas piedras visigodas en el Museo Arqueológico de Córdoba, in P. Palol i Salellas (dir.), Actas de la 1° Reunión Nacional de Arqueología Paleocristiana (Vitoria 1966), Vitoria 1967, 187–198. Vicent Zaragoza, A.M., Perfil científico y humano de Don Félix Hernández, in Corduba 3/1 (1976), 163–192. Vicent Zaragoza, A.M., Capiteles de pequeño formato en Córdoba, in Boletín de la Real Academia de Córdoba, de Ciencias, Bellas Letras y Nobles Artes 69/134 (1998), 95–112. Vidal Álvarez, S., La escultura hispánica figurada de la Antigüedad Tardía (siglos iv–vii), Murcia 2005. Villa del Castillo, A., Talleres de escultura arquitectónica y de mobiliario litúrgico en épocas tardoantigua y altomedieval (ca. 500–1000) en la Península Ibérica. Análisis tipológico, contextual y arqueológico, PhD diss., Universidad Complutense de Madrid 2018.

Selected Contributions Arbeiter, A., ¿Primitivas sedes episcopales hispánicas en los suburbia? La problemática cara a las usanzas del ámbito mediterráneo occidental, in D. Vaquerizo (ed.), Las áreas Suburbanas en la ciudad histórica. Topografía, usos, función, Córdoba 2010, 413–434. Arce Sainz, F., La supuesta basílica de San Vicente en Córdoba: de mito historiográfico a obstinación historiográfica, in Al-Qanṭara 36/1 (2015), 11–44. Caballero Zoreda, L., Un canal de transmisión de lo clásico en la Alta Edad Media española. Arquitectura de influjo omeya en la Península Ibérica entre mediados del siglo viii e inicios del x, in Al-Qanṭara 15–16 (1994–1995), 109–124 and 107–124. Caballero Zoreda, L., “Impacto” del Islam en la arquitectura cristiana que se conservó o se construyó en al-Andalus (o bajo dominio musulmán), in A. Jiménez (ed.), De Hispalis a Isbiliya, Sevilla 2009, 14–58. Fernández-Puertas, A., Mezquita de Córdoba. Su estudio arqueológico en el siglo xx, Granada 2009. García García, M.Á., Sarcófagos romanos decorados del siglo iv en territorio andaluz: enfoques y problemática vigente, in spal 21 (2012), 183–193. Gómez-Moreno Martínez, M., Iglesias Mozárabes. Arte Español de los siglos ix al xi, Madrid 1919. León, A., and J.F. Murillo, Las comunidades dhimmis cristianas en la Córdoba omeya. Posibilidades y límites de su visibilidad arqueológica, in al-Mulk 15 (2017), 141–170. Peña Jurado, A., Estudio de la decoración arquitectónica romana y análisis del reaprovechamiento de material en la Mezquita Aljama de Córdoba, Córdoba 2010.

130

utrero agudo and villa del castillo

Ríos y Serrano, J.A. de los, Monumentos latino-bizantinos de Córdoba. Monumentos Arquitectónicos de España, Madrid 1879. Sánchez Velasco, J., Elementos arquitectónicos de época visigoda en el Museo Arqueológico de Córdoba. Arquitectura y Urbanismo en la Córdoba visigoda, Sevilla 2006. Santos Gener, S. de los, Las artes en Córdoba durante la dominación de los pueblos germánicos, in Boletín de la Real Academia de Córdoba, de Ciencias, Bellas Artes y Nobles Artes 78 (1958), 147–192. Schlunk, H., and Th. Hauschild, Die Denkmäler der frühchristlichen und westgotischen Zeit, Mainz am Rhein 1978. Utrero, M.ªÁ., Iglesias tardoantiguas y altomedievales en la Península Ibérica. Análisis arqueológico y sistemas de abovedamiento, Madrid 2006. Villa del Castillo, A., Talleres de escultura arquitectónica y de mobiliario litúrgico en épocas tardoantigua y altomedieval (ca. 500–1000) en la Península Ibérica. Análisis tipológico, contextual y arqueológico, PhD diss., Universidad Complutense de Madrid 2018.

chapter 6

The City in New Hands Xavier Ballestín-Navarro

1

A Short Foreword

The history of al-Andalus, and the history of the Iberian High Middle Ages as well, has not only become millennial but has also been colored in millenarian overtones. The year 2002, for example, marked a millennium since the death of al-Manṣūr b. Abī ʿĀmir (Almanzor) and the appearance of a wave of scholarly works about him.1 In 2011, the 13th centennial of the Islamic conquest of the Iberian Peninsula was commemorated by historians, art historians, and archaeologists, along with almost all branches of the humanities, by a program of publications. These reflect the historical transcendence of al-Andalus, its culture, civilization, arts, architecture, literature, and history and attempt to offer the most up-to-date scholarship.2 Between these significant anniversaries, an International Congress was held in Cordoba in 2008, titled Córdoba. Capital Intelectual de al-Andalus. Ciudad de Diálogo, 716–2016; this was convened as the first step towards planning the city’s commemoration of its 13th centennial and as a cultural, political, and historical event associated with Cordoba’s candidacy to the European capital of culture in 2016.3 In fact, this well-deserved achievement was eventually denied, and in 2012 San Sebastian was chosen instead of Cordoba. Nevertheless, this is not the place to discuss why Cordoba—ancient seat of the Baetica province and capital of al-Andalus—failed to achieve this goal, but it is something that must be taken into account: in the 21st century there is an increasing trend towards fighting terrorism, which has caused a setback in the understanding of Islamic societies, past and present, the ideology of crusade, the clash of civilizations, and even the denial of the Islamic con-

1 My deepest thanks to Mariam Rosser-Owen and her invaluable help, wisdom, and patience. All shortcoming and mistakes fall on my shoulders. See Martínez-Enamorado and Torremocha-Silva, Almanzor y su época; Bariani, Almanzor; Ballestín-Navarro, Al-Mansur y la dawla; Sénac, Al-Mansur: le fléau de l’an mil; Echevarría-Arsuaga, Almanzor: un califa en la sombra. 2 See García-Moreno and Vigil-Escalera, 711, arqueología e historia; and see also Melo-Carrasco and Vidal-Castro, A 1300 años de la conquista de al-Andalus. 3 The proceedings have not been published.

© Xavier Ballestín -Navarro, 2023 | doi:10.1163/9789004524156_007

132

ballestín-navarro

quest of al-Andalus.4 Nevertheless, this chapter, and those that follow, show that much is being done to write a rational, comprehensive, and updated history of Cordoba, a city with three faiths and three cultures.

2

The Age of Conquest and the Governors (711–756)

The most significant event in the early history of al-Andalus is the Islamic conquest of the Iberian Peninsula between 711 and 713 by the armies of Ṭāriq b. Ziyād and Mūsā b. Nuṣayr.5 The explanations for the triumph of both invading armies have been associated with the failure of the Regnum Gothorum, supposedly beset by aristocratic strife, plague, and impoverishment, rather than with a military conquest with well-conceived planning and strategy. In other words, some scholars have understood the progress of the armies of Ṭāriq b. Ziyād and Mūsā b. Nuṣayr from Algeciras to the southern Pyrenees, and beyond, as only possible due the weakness, internal trouble, and lack of unity among the Goths. Such a view downplays the strength and cohesion of the Berber and Arabic armies and the leadership of Ṭāriq b. Ziyād and Mūsā b. Nuṣayr, and indeed this has been challenged in recent years by a more nuanced and documented approach to the last years of the Regnum Gothorum.6 New archaeological and numismatic data has shown, beyond any doubt, that the Islamic conquest of the Iberian Peninsula was arranged following a set of fiscal and administrative practices that had been well established in the conquests of the Middle East, Western Iran, Egypt, Libya, Tunisia, Algeria, and Morocco. Tiny lead seals inscribed with phrases related to the division of plunder—such as fayʾ Allāh, (God’s wealth), ghanīma (spoils), maghnūm ([divided as] spoils), qism (share, fraction), qusima ([allotted in] shares fractions), jawāz (legitimate, approved)—and the surrender treaties of cities and their hinterlands—muṣālaḥa ([done, arranged] peacefully), ṣulḥ (peace, peace treaty), ḥatm (decreed, sealed)—can be dated both to the first years of the conquest and to the age of the first governors (711–756).7 The analysis of the information provided by these lead seals is starting to paint a new pic-

4 García-Sanjuán, La conquista islámica; Manzano-Moreno, La creación de un esencialismo. 5 See Chalmeta, Invasión 13–251; Ṭāḥa, The Muslim conquest 84–183; Manzano-Moreno, Conquistadores 29–189. 6 See Arce, Esperando a los árabes 342–360. 7 See Ibrahim, Nuevos documentos 148–150 and 157–158. See also Ibrahim, Evidencia de precintos; Ibrahim, Un precinto a nombre de ʿAbd al-Raḥmān i; Ibrahim, Un precinto a nombre de ʿAnbasa; and Ibrahim and Gaspariño, Adiciones a los precintos de la Conquista.

the city in new hands

133

ture of well-arranged practices and a conquest that—despite internecine feuds between the Goths and the swift accommodation that some of them made with the new Islamic order—was a conscious and well-devised undertaking, reliant on a long-tested tradition of war, rule, and governance. In fact, when Mūsā b. Nuṣayr and Ṭāriq b. Ziyād were summoned to Damascus they departed from the Far West (al-Maghrib al-Aqṣā) for the Umayyad capital, Damascus (Dimashq/al-Shām) with a huge company of men, women, and children of aristocratic Gothic stock, some of them prisoners of war, some of them intent on making a lasting accommodation with the new order in the Iberian Peninsula, that is, al-Andalus.8 Mūsā b. Nuṣayr and Ṭāriq b. Ziyād left behind them in 95/714 a new country where minting coins, assessing wealth and tax liability, and collecting taxes were running on a sound and regular basis, under the aegis of ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz b. Mūsā b. Nuṣayr, the first on the list of Umayyad governors of al-Andalus, who had chosen as his residence and headquarters the city of Seville, ancient Ispali. Several explanations have been given for ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz’s choice of headquarters: his father’s role in the conquest of the city, Sevilla’s proximity to the southern coast and the Straits in case of defeat or retreat, the need to follow up the submission and conquest of the southwestern corner of the Iberian Peninsula (Alentejo, Algarve, Huelva, Merida and its hinterland), and ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz’s liking for the city.9 There is no clear-cut statement in the sources, both in Arabic and Latin, about ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz’s decision-making, despite the detailed accounts in the former about how his new wife, a Gothic woman called Aylah/Aylo/Egilona—according to some sources the widow of the last king of the Goths, Rodericus, who was defeated and killed in the Guadalete in 711— encouraged him to take a more independent approach to the exercise of power and asked him to wear a kingly crown; this eventually proved lethal for ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz, who was killed by Ayyūb b. Ḥabīb al-Lakhmī (Rajab 97/March 716). Reportedly, he was assassinated on instructions received from the Umayyad caliph Sulaymān, who, upon receiving Mūsā and Ṭāriq in Damascus, decided to strip them of their share of the plunder and roughly mishandled Mūsā and imposed a heavy fine on him.10 A close reading of the story of ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz and his wife Umm ʿĀṣim/Aylah/Aylo/Egilona, in which a strongly misogynistic and

8 9 10

See Viguera-Molins, Lectura de Ibn al-Qutiyya 121–123. See Viguera-Molins, Cuando Córdoba 14, 22–23, 39–41; and Ramírez del Río, La capital de al-Andalus 47 and 51. See Chalmeta, Invasión 242–250; Shahin, Crowns and prostrations 23; Martínez-Gros, L’idéologie omeyyade 76–77; and Ṭāḥa, The Muslim conquest 191 and 198; Viguera-Molins, Lectura de Ibn al-Qutiyya 121–123.

134

ballestín-navarro

patriarchal flavor pervades the narrative, allows us to infer a subtle and complex power struggle associated with the Umayyad dynasty’s efforts to reap his share of the war spoils and the tax revenues of the newly conquered lands, a goal made difficult by geographical distance and the conflicting interests of the conquerors. The main challenge to the historian of this period is that the written sources, which are sometimes very late, offer conflicting and overly detailed reports, or very dry and short, differing chronologies for the same facts, multilayered levels of information, from oral reports (akhbār news) to annalistic texts (taʾrīkh history, date, chronicle), and—as expected—from a historical source, a fair degree of bias and politically legitimizing discourse. In the present volume, the chapter by Alejandro García Sanjuán is devoted to Qurṭuba in the historical sources, and the problem of source reliability in the medieval period is dealt with in detail there; however, it is pertinent to point out that the available sources are sometimes as rich as they are difficult to cope with, and this is especially clear in the case of the narrative of Cordoba’s conquest and its adoption as the capital of al-Andalus. In fact, the oldest source, the Futūḥ Miṣr of Ibn ʿAbd al-Ḥakam (d. 870), offers only a short explanation of how Ṭāriq, before being engaged by King Roderic’s army at Guadalete, was attacked by soldiers coming from Qurṭuba ( junūd Qurṭuba). This force was defeated in spite of being numerically superior and killed when they arrived at the city in hot pursuit.11 The Futūḥ Miṣr does not recount whether the city’s gates were opened to Ṭāriq’s small army, whether there was a siege, or if the city’s inhabitants came to terms with him: indeed, there are no extant contemporary written sources for the Islamic conquest of the Regnum Gothorum. The only piece of evidence that relates to Cordoba is a lead seal with the Arabic inscription qsm b-Qurṭuba, “it was divided, it was allotted in Qurṭuba,” which at least allows the historian to infer that there was plunder to be distributed.12 Some later sources offer a different account compared with the sketchy data of Ibn ʿAbd al-Ḥakam. These include the Fatḥ al-Andalus,13 written around the beginning of the 12th century, the Akhbār majmūʿa,14 datable between the second half of the 10th century and the first half of the 11th century; the Kitāb al-Bayān al-mughrib of Ibn ʿIdhārī,15 written in the first quarter of the

11 12 13 14 15

Ibn ʿAbd al-Hạkam, Futūh ̣Misṛ 206–207; see also Clarke, Medieval Arabic 43. See Ibrahim and Gaspariño, Adiciones a los precintos de la Conquista 40. Fath al-Andalus 20–21 and 30; see also Clarke, Medieval Arabic 55–56. Akhbār Majmūʿa 10–14, 21, 29; see also Clarke, Medieval Arabic 55–56. Ibn ʿIdhārī, Kitāb al-Bayān al-mughrib ii, 9–10; see also Clarke, Medieval Arabic 55–56.

the city in new hands

135

13th century; and the Kitāb Nafḥ al-ṭīb,16 a huge and detailed compilation containing excerpts from lost sources, written in the 17th century by al-Maqqarī al-Tilimsānī as an homage and praising tribute to the polymath Lisān al-Dīn b. al-Khaṭīb (d. 1374), a contemporary of Ibn Khaldūn. The accounts in these sources are longer, more detailed, and pay attention to the urban geography of Cordoba; they also introduce a new protagonist, a mawlā (client) of the Umayyad caliph ʿAbd al-Malik b. Marwān, Mughīth al-Rūmī, who is credited with the glory and praise of conquering the city of Cordoba.17 With the available Arabic and Latin sources available to us, it is not possible to verify the existence of Mughīth; but while we would be rightly cautious not to accept his role in the conquest of Cordoba without any hesitations, we should also not discard the traditional account of the later sources altogether or dismiss the possibility that it contains some kernels of truth.18 Leaving aside the problems associated with source reliability, accuracy, and chronological proximity to the events reported, there is some agreement, at least, in the main lines of a credible account about who decided to change the seat of power from Seville (Ishbīliya) to Cordoba (Qurṭuba) and why. This was the governor al-Ḥurr b. ʿAbd al-Raḥmān al-Thaqafī, appointed by the governor of Ifrīqiya, Muḥammad b. Yazīd, a man who had the full confidence of the Umayyad caliph Sulaymān b. ʿAbd al-Malik.19 The measures taken by al-Ḥurr have been understood as a con-

16 17

18

19

Al-Maqqarī, Kitāb Nafḥ al-ṭīb iii, 12–14; see also Clarke, Medieval Arabic, 42 and 55–56. According to Akhbār Majmūʿa 21 and Fatḥ al-Andalus 30, Mughīth received a palace (balāṭ) in the vicinity of the area where he entered Cordoba, a place known by the city inhabitants as balāṭ Mughīth. See Clarke, Medieval Arabic 56 fn. 92; Ruiz-Lara et al., El sector meridional 629. The architectural and urban development of Qurṭuba as an Islamic city and seat of power of the Umayyads is the subject of the chapter by Alberto León and Alberto Montejo and the chapter by Juan Francisco Murillo Redondo and María Teresa Casal. A thorough analysis of source reliability, transmitters, oral tradition, and the shape, contents, and distortions in the account of the conquest of Cordoba can be found in Clarke, Medieval Arabic 41–57. She duly acknowledges (44) her reliance on Gabriel Martínez Gros and Janina Safran, two scholars known for their outstanding contribution to the conception of Andalusi history writing from the 10th century onwards as a tool of Umayyad ideology and their quest for legitimacy. Even if this approach implies a restraint on the Arabic sources’ reliability, their wealth, attention to detail and to the sources quoted allow for diametrically opposed reading. For a good instance of this, check it with the articulated exposition about how Mūsā b. Nuṣayr could be portrayed as an evil man or as a hero—a radical difference, even if both views came across in Ibn ʿAbd al-Ḥakam and ʿAbd al-Malik b. Ḥabīb, two fuqahāʾ (plural of faqīh, jurist, legal scholar, a man well versed in fiqh/jurisprudence) sharing the same sources, background, and training—see Filios, A good story. See Chalmeta, Invasión 253; and Manzano-Moreno, Conquistadores 71–72.

136

ballestín-navarro

certed policy to enhance wealth assessment, to create new property censuses, to ensure a smooth and fair tax liability, and, eventually, to collect the tax proceedings. The only source that can be dated to the Age of the Governors is a Latin source known variously as the Crónica mozárabe del 751, Crónica latina del 754, or Crónica del 754, written by a Christian, perhaps in Cordoba, a scholar with an astonishing knowledge of the affairs of the Umayyads in the East, the Byzantines, the Islamic conquerors in al-Andalus, and the Cristian community under Muslim rule in al-Andalus and the East.20 Both Arabic and Latin sources are unanimous in associating the move from Ishbīliya to Qurṭuba to al-Ḥurr, and they give three reasons for this change. The first was the need for the conquering armies to have a base/garrison nearer to the northeastern frontier, that is, the land of the Franks beyond the Pyrenees (bilād Ifranja, Ifranja), while also being close to the Maghrib, the southern coast and the Mediterranean shore. The second reason was that Ishbīliya, the city chosen by ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz, had been mostly settled by tribesmen of Lakhm, the tribe of his father Mūsā b. Nuṣayr, and the memory of his father’s long career and exploits as a conqueror had left an indelible impression on these tribesmen. It is probable that while they complied with the new governor’s commands and were ostensibly obedient to him, this was a reluctant obedience. Furthermore, Ishbīliya and the southwestern corner of the Iberian Peninsula—called Gharb (West) al-Andalus in the Arabic sources, hence Algarve—comprised an area where Gothic landowners had previously managed to reach an accommodation with the new Islamic order, that is, with Mūsā, who led some of them to Damascus in order to give their allegiance personally to the caliph. The third reason offered by the sources is that Cordoba had been the seat of government and rule in Baetica in the last stages of the Regnum Gothorum, and many of the landlords and the powerful living in the city would have left after the fall of the Regnum Gothorum. This argument has little evidential basis because we do not yet have sufficient prosopographical studies about the Gothic elite who had been living in Cordoba, and besides council and synodal acts, none of our sources gives clear information about people leaving Cordoba. The news brought to Mughīth al-Rūmī by the lone shepherd about a city where, except for a a single patriarch (baṭrīq), all the powerful had left, counts as historical anecdote rather than a reliable, demonstrable fact.21 20 21

See Barceló, La primerenca; Cardelle de Hartmann, The textual transmission; Crónica, presentación 5–6; estudio preliminar 7–22. See Clarke, Medieval Arabic 41–42.

the city in new hands

137

Nevertheless, there is a piece of evidence that makes it credible that it was al-Ḥurr who decided to settle in Cordoba. He left for al-Andalus with a retinue of 400 men from among the distinguished people in Ifrīqiya (min wujūh Ifrīqiya), almost a small army; it can be assumed that their relatives, their clients (mawālī), and their own retinues traveled with them. A total figure cannot be estimated but this journey gave rise to the expression ṭalīʿat al-Ḥurr, a phrase used in the sources when a new wave of Arab settlers people arrived in al-Andalus during the Age of the Governors.22 It would not be possible here to name these people or to retrace their steps in al-Andalus. However, there would have been more room for them in Cordoba than in Seville, mostly settled by tribesmen of Lakhm. Also on al-Ḥurr’s agenda was the need to manage the collection of taxes; by increasing the revenue from the Christians the tax collection, that is, to increase the revenues to the Christians, and to curtail the embezzlement of plunder, a policy in which the governor showed no mercy and imprisoned without qualms every Berber guilty of misappropriation.23 Al-Ḥurr was the first Muslim ruler in al-Andalus to issue golden coinage; the first issue, dated 98/716, had bilingual inscriptions in Arabic and Latin and the first instance of the name “al-Andalus” in coinage, which had already appeared on the lead seals mentioned above.24 Al-Ḥurr ruled al-Andalus from Qurṭuba in the name of the Umayyads of Damascus from Muḥarram 98/August 716 to Ramaḍān 100/March–April 719. He was succeeded by al-Samḥ b. Mālik alKhawlānī (from Ramaḍān 100/March–April 719 to 102/July 720–July 721), a man directly appointed to fulfill the governorship of al-Andalus by the Umayyad caliph ʿUmar b. ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz. According to our sources, ʿUmar was concerned about the isolation of Muslims in the farthest west, that is, al-Andalus, as well as about fair assessment and was also deeply worried about the fair assessment 22 23

24

See Chalmeta, Invasión 253–254; Fatḥ al-Andalus 23; Ibn ʿIdhārī, al-Bayān al-mughrib ii, 24; al-Maqqarī, Nafḥ al-ṭīb iii, 14; Crónica 54, 62, 64. Crónica 64. J.F. Murillo-Redondo (Qurtuba califal 86) pointed out that some Gothic aristocrats stayed in Cordoba, like Artobas, who gifted to al-Ṣumayl b. Ḥātim the state called ʿUqdat al-Zaytūn, and that the city had not been deserted by the landowning class, the clergy, and the powerful, as per the statement that can be found in the traditional account of Mughīth al-Rūmī’s conquest of the city. Some landowners could have left the city and returned shortly after, or most of them might have remained there, but that belongs to the realm of conjecture. Notwithstanding J.F. Murillo’s remark about ʿUqdat al-Zaytūn, it would be a difficult undertaking, but a worthy one, to ascertain if Cordoba was the most suitable place for a new capital and if this suitability could have been explained by the lack of Gothic landlords, absentee or otherwise. See also Manzano-Moreno, Conquistadores 71–72 and 112; and Cruz-Hernández, Social structure 22–23 and 72–73. Ibrahim, Nuevos documentos 149; see also Martínez-Núñez, ¿Por qué llegaron 27–28.

138

ballestín-navarro

of the war plunder and the spoils acquired and allotted during the conquest of the Regnum Gothorum. This concern centered on the appropriate payment to the treasury of a fifth (khums fifth, khamsa five) of all the lands, revenues, and plunder of the conquest.25 Al-Samḥ, a Muslim said to be as pious and God-fearing as the caliph himself, fulfilled the tasks that ʿUmar b. ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz entrusted to him until he was killed by the Franks near Tolouse after taking the city of Narbonne in 719 while waging the jihād fi sabīl Allāh (to strive in the path of God).26 He ordered the bridge over the Guadalquivir to be repaired and allotted a burial ground, in the area of the city belonging to the khums, which became the first Islamic cemetery in Qurṭuba, the maqbarat al-rabāḍ (suburb cemetery).27 Two main aspects of rule during the Age of the Governors were established by al-Ḥurr and al-Samḥ. The first was capitalizing on the conquest by pursuing jihād fī sabīl Allāh (to strive in the path of God) in the land of the Franks. Victory provided new lands, new resources, and new wealth to be assessed, as well as plunder. The second aspect was the adoption of an increasingly articulated fiscal machinery: this had been developed already in the conquered lands of Byzantium and Persia, and comprised a system of wealth assessment and a balanced tax liability. It was the heir to a long tradition of fiscal policies and tax collecting. The information in both Arabic and Latin sources is too fragmentary to provide a detailed account of each one of the remaining governors of this period, though they continued to pursue the main policies we have already outlined. For some of these governors, more information can be gleaned from their involvement in the turmoil of the last years of Umayyad rule. The beginning of the end in the Far West was the defeat of the Syrian army sent to crush the uprising of the Berbers in the Maghrib (122–123/739–741), and a new era opened when, in 756, ʿAbd al-Raḥmān b. Muʿāwiya b. Hishām b. ʿAbd al-Malik b. Marwān landed in the shores of Burriana.28 A survivor of the Umayyad ruling house overthrown by the Abbasids, ʿAbd al-Raḥmān, also known as al-Dākhil, became the first independent Umayyad emir of al-Andalus. 25

26 27 28

See Barceló, La primerenca organització 251–254; and Chalmeta, Invasión 257–267. The data afforded by the Arabic sources on the matter of the khums allotment in al-Andalus, which can be qualified as irregular from the point of view of Damascus, clearly show the conflicting lines between the interests of the conquerors and the interest of the Umayyads bent on receiving the highest share of spoils, plunder, land, and tribute at the expense of the conquerors. García-Sanjuán, al-Andalus 178, 180, 181; Manzano-Moreno, Conquistadores 73–74. See also Viguera-Molins, Cuando Córdoba 27–40. Casal-García, Los cementerios 304. Martínez-Enamorado, Y al-Dājil arribó.

the city in new hands

139

His arrival spelled a new age for Qurṭuba. ʿAbd al-Raḥmān settled in Cordoba and arranged the layout of the main mosque, the palace, and the suburbs. With him and his progeny, Cordoba, the capital of a far away and almost isolated province, became the focus of a new dynasty, which lasted there until the outbreak of the fitna of the caliphate and the eventual demise of the Umayyads. In fact, the history of Qurṭuba—a city where Jews, Christians, and Muslims lived under the aegis of a Muslim ruler—comes into its own with the Umayyads, a period when rule, authority, governance, and culture are so closely linked that it is a difficult undertaking to separate the deeds of emirs and caliphs from the history of the city itself.29 The chapters to come offer a full appraisal of the interwoven history of city and dynasty.

Bibliography Primary Sources Akhbār Majmūʿa, ed. and trans. E. Lafuente y Alcántara, Madrid 1867. Crónica Mozárabe del 754. Edición crítica y traducción (Textos Medievales 18), ed. J.E. López Pereira, Zaragoza 1980. Fatḥ al-Andalus (La conquista de al-Andalus) (Fuentes Arábico-Hispanas 18), ed. L. Molina, Madrid 1994. Ibn ʿAbd al-Hạkam, Futūh ̣Misṛ wa-akhbāru-hā, C.C. Torrey (ed.), in The History of the Conquest of Egypt, North Africa and Spain (Yale Oriental Series, Researches 3), New Haven 1922. Ibn ʿIdhārī, Kitāb al-Bayān al-mughrib fī akhbār mulūk al-Maghrib waʾl-Andalus, eds. G.S. Colin and E. Lévi-Provençal, 2 vols., Leiden 1948–1951. al-Maqqarī, Kitāb Nafḥ al-ṭīb fī ghuṣn al-Andalus al-raṭīb, ed. I. ʿAbbās, 8 vols., Beirut 1968.

Secondary Sources Arce, J., Esperando a los árabes: Los visigodos en Hispania (507–711), Madrid 2011. Ballestín-Navarro, X., Al-Mansur y la dawla ʿamiriyya. Una dinámica de poder y legitimidad en el occidente musulmán medieval, Barcelona 2004. Barceló, M., La primerenca organització fiscal d’al-Andalus segons la “Cronica del 754” (95/713[4]–138/755), in Faventia 1–2 (1979), 231–261. Bariani, L., Almanzor, San Sebastián 2003. Cardelle de Hartmann, C., The textual transmission of the Mozarabic chronicle of 754, in Early medieval Europe 8 (1999), 13–29. 29

Murillo-Redondo, Qurtuba califal 81.

140

ballestín-navarro

Casal-García, Mª.T., Los cementerios islámicos de Qurtuba, in Anales de arqueología cordobesa 12 (2001), 283–313. Chalmeta, P., Invasión e islamización. La sumisión de Hispania y la formación de alAndalus, Jaén 2003. Clarke, N., Medieval Arabic accounts of the conquest of Cordoba: Creating a narrative for a provincial capital, in bsoas 74 (2011), 41–57. Cruz-Hernández, M., The social structure of al-Andalus during the Muslim occupation (711–755) and the founding of the Umayyad monarchy, in The formation of al-Andalus. Part 1: History and society (The formation of the classical Islamic world 46), ed. M. Marín, Farnham 1998, 1–33 and 51–83. Echevarría-Arsuaga, A., Almanzor: un califa en la sombra, Madrid 2011. Filios, D.K., A good story well told: Memory, identity and the conquest of Iberia, in Journal of medieval Iberian studies 6 (2014), 127–147. García-Moreno, L., and A. Vigil-Escalera (eds.), 711, arqueología e historia entre dos mundos, in Zona arqueológica 15 fascs. 1–2 (2011). García-Sanjuán, A., Al-Andalus durante los primeros emires, 716–756, in Zona arqueológica 15 (2011), 177–190. García-Sanjuán, A., La conquista islámica de la Península ibérica y la tergiversación del pasado. Del catastrofismo al negacionismo, Madrid 2013, 12019. Ibrahim, T., Evidencia de precintos y amuletos en al-Andalus, in ii Congreso de Arqueología Medieval Española, Madrid 1987, 706–710. Ibrahim, T., Un precinto a nombre de ʿAbd al-Raḥmān i, in Al-Qanṭara 16 (1995), 143– 145. Ibrahim, T., Un precinto a nombre de ʿAnbasa ibn Suḥaym al-Kalbī, gobernador de alAndalus, 103–107/721–725, in Al-Qanṭara 20 (1999), 191–193. Ibrahim, T., Nuevos documentos sobre la Conquista Omeya de Hispania: Los precintos de plomo, in Zona arqueológica 15 (2011), 145–162. Ibrahim, T., and S. Gaspariño, Adiciones a los precintos de la Conquista: Córdoba, Elvira y una variante de al-Andalus, in Manquso. Gacetilla de Estudios Epigráficos y Numismáticos Andalusíes 4 (2016), 39–42. Manzano-Moreno, E., La creación de un esencialismo: la historia de al-Andalus en la visión del arabismo español, in M. Feria-García and G. Fernández-Parrilla (eds.), Orientalismo, exotismo y traducción, Cuenca 2000, 23–38. Manzano-Moreno, E., Conquistadores, emires y califas. Los Omeyas y la formación de al-Andalus, Barcelona 2006. Martínez-Enamorado, V., Y al-Dājil arribó a al-Andalus … En torno al desembarco de ʿAbd al-Raḥmān i en la playa de Burriana/Biṭruh Riyāna, in Al-Qantara 27 (2006), 199–210. Martínez-Enamorado, V., and A. Torremocha-Silva, Almanzor y su época: al-Andalus en la segunda mitad del siglo x, Málaga 2001.

the city in new hands

141

Martínez-Gros, G., L’idéologie omeyyade. La construction de la légitimité du Califat de Cordoue (xe–xie siècles), Madrid 1992. Martínez-Núñez, Mª.A., ¿Por qué llegaron los árabes a la Península Ibérica?: las causas de la conquista musulmana del 711, in Awraq 3 (2011), 21–36. Melo-Carrasco, D., and F. Vidal-Castro (eds.), A 1300 años de la conquista de al-Andalus (711–2011): Historia, cultura y legado del Islam en la Península Ibérica, CoquimboChile 2012. Murillo-Redondo, J.F., Qurtuba califal. Origen y desarrollo de la capital omeya de alAndalus, in Awraq 7 (2013), 81–103. Ramírez del Río, J., La capital de al-Andalus en Córdoba en 716. Breves notas, in Al-Mulk 15 (2017), 45–59. Ruiz-Lara, D., et al., El sector meridional del yanib al-garbi, in D. Vaquerizo and J.F. Murillo, (eds.), El Anfiteatro Romano de Córdoba y su entorno urbano. Análisis Arqueológico (ss. i–xiii d.C.) (Vol. ii). Monografías de arqueología cordobesa 19 (2010), 629– 643. Sénac, P., Al-Mansur: le fléau de l’an mil, Paris 2006. Shahin, A.A., Crowns and prostrations: Differing conceptions of sovereignty in the Visigothic and early Islamic Spain and the downfall of ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz ibn Mūsā ibn Nuṣayr, in N. Achiri, A. Baraibar, and F.K.E. Schmelzer (eds.), Actas del iii Congreso Ibero-Africano de Hispanistas, Pamplona 2015, 349–359. Ṭāḥa, ʿA.D., The Muslim conquest and settlement of North Africa and Spain, Exeter 1989. Viguera-Molins, M.J., Lectura de Ibn al-Qutiyya: sobre la conquista de al-Andalus, in L.A. García-Moreno and E. Sánchez Medina (eds.), Del Nilo al Guadalquivir ii Estudios sobre las fuentes de la conquista islámica. Homenaje al profesor Yves Modéran, [Madrid] [2013], 97–134. Viguera-Molins, M.J., Cuando Córdoba pasó a ser capital de al-Andalus, in Al-Mulk 15 (2017), 13–43.

chapter 7

Qurṭuba in Arabic Written Sources (8th–13th Century) Alejandro García-Sanjuán

1

Qurṭuba and Arabic Sources

The presence of Qurṭuba in Arabic sources might well be considered overwhelming, taking into account the limited amount of written texts for the history of al-Andalus as a whole. Being the main political and cultural Islamic Iberian hub for nearly three centuries of Umayyad rule (756–1031), Arab authors devoted much of their work to describing and praising the city, to such an extent that the history of Qurṭuba represents a great deal of our knowledge about al-Andalus during that period. It would be hardly exaggerated, therefore, to affirm that, to a large extent, the history of al-Andalus between the 8th and the 11th centuries coincides with that of Cordoba. The recent publication of the collective work Biblioteca de al-Andalus lays bare the superiority of Cordoba over the other Islamic Iberian urban centers. Over the emirate period, authors from the Umayyad capital number 77 out of 148 in al-Andalus as a whole and 169 out of 303 across the caliphate period, which means that Cordoba represents 52% and 55.7 % of all known authors, respectively.1 The crucial role played by the city over the first centuries of Islamic rule in Iberia largely relies on its function as the Umayyad capital city. We know of different works specifically devoted to Qurṭuba, although unfortunately just a few of them have come down to us. This is, in particular, the case of the so-called “biographical literature,” mostly aimed at gathering personal and professional information about the leading scholars from a certain period of time or a particular city. For instance, Akhbār al-quḍāt wa-l-fuqahāʾ bi-Qurṭuba, written in the 11th century by Abū ʿUmar b. ʿAfīf, is one of these lost sources,2 and so is the case of the history of the judges of Cordoba attributed to Ibn Bashkuwāl (d. 578/1183),3 a well-known author who lived between the Almoravid and the 1 Lirola, La producción intelectual andalusí 24 and 27. 2 Castilla Brazales et al., Biblioteca de al-Andalus: de Ibn Aḍḥà a Ibn Bušrà. 3 De la Puente et al., Biblioteca de al-Andalus: de Ibn Aḍḥà a Ibn Bušrà 558, 32–36.

© Alejandro García -Sanjuá n , 2023 | doi:10.1163/9789004524156_008

qurṭuba in arabic written sources (8th–13th century)

143

Almohad periods. By contrast, the book al-Khushanī (d. 361/971) devoted to the judges of Cordoba has been preserved. As the author points out in the prologue, he wrote it at the direct request of al-Ḥakam ii,4 the second Umayyad caliph of Cordoba and a great patron of culture who promoted the creation of a large library that would be later almost completely purged by al-Manṣūr b. Abī ʿĀmir, as we shall see below. Born in Qayrawān but settled in al-Andalus, al-Khushanī tracks down the history of 36 judges (some of them appointed more than once) from the early Umayyad rule up to his own time, reaching the year 358/968– 969.5 Being relatively abundant, Arabic sources are a main reference for the study of Islamic Cordoba in almost every aspect of its life, whether political, social, economic, religious, institutional, etc. Similarly, written sources frequently name specific spots and spaces in the city, such as neighborhoods, mosques, markets, gates, graveyards, etc., thus providing crucial information about its urban structure. In this regard, the preservation of Ṣifat Qurṭuba wa-khiṭaṭi-hā wa-manāzil al-aʿyān, a work by Aḥmad al-Rāzī (d. 955) apparently devoted to a description of Cordoba’s urban shape and design, would have been extremely helpful but, unfortunately again, it has not come down to us.6 Published nearly 30 years ago, J. Zanón’s study on the Almohad period remains a model of the possibilities for reconstructing the urban structure of Muslim cities offered by written sources. On the other hand, archaeology has been extremely helpful in order to unveil the city’s urban shaping, as revealed in works appeared in recent years and devoted to its mosques7 and graveyards.8

2

The Islamic Conquest

Al-Andalus arose out of the Berber and Arab conquest in 92/711. Just like in the case of other Iberian cities (Sidonia, Carmona), Arabic sources disagree about the conquest of Cordoba, both with regard to the way it was taken, whether peacefully or by force, and the leading Muslim actor, whether it was the Berber commander Ṭāriq b. Ziyād or his subordinate Mugīth al-Rūmī.9

4 5 6 7 8 9

Al-Khushanī, Quḍāt Qurṭuba 24 (amara al-amīr bi-taʾlīf kitāb al-quḍā). Zomeño et al., Biblioteca de al-Andalus: de Ibn al-Dabbāg a Ibn Kurz. Molina et al., Biblioteca de al-Andalus: de al-Qabrīrī a Zumurrud 290–296. González Gutiérrez, Las mezquitas de barrio de Madinat Qurtuba 159–163. Casal, Los cementerios musulmanes de Qurtuba. Clarke, Medieval Arabic accounts; García-Sanjuán, La conquista islámica 394–395.

144

garcía-sanjuán

According to a story that, in all likelihood, comes from al-Rāzī, but which first surfaces in later sources (Akhbār majmūʿa and Ibn ʿIdhārī), the Muslims took Cordoba thanks to the help of a goatherd who showed them a breach in the city walls through which they could enter and seize it by force (malakū al-madīna ʿanwatan).10 The anonymous chronicle known as Akhbār majmūʿa arguably includes the most complete account of this version of the arrival of Muslims: Mugīth went on until he reached Cordova and concealed himself at the village of Shuqunda (sic), Secunda, in a grove of larch, which lay between the villages of Secunda and Ṭarsayl. He sent out his guides who captured a goatherd and brought him with his herd to the grove. Mugīth asked him about Cordova, and he said: “The nobles have gone to Toledo leaving behind its governor (malik) with four hundred defenders and the less important inhabitants.” Then he questioned him about the strength of the defences. He said that they were strong except that there was a breach over the Bāb al-ṣūra, the Gate of the Statue—[now] the Bāb al-qanṭara, the Bridge Gate—and he described it to him. When night had concealed them Mugīth set out aided by what God had sent to give them victory—a sky of drizzle mixed with persistent rain. They came along the river by night while the guards on the walls had ceased their vigilance being afraid of the cold and the rain, and hearing only faint and infrequent cries. The troops entered the water and crossed over the river. Between the river and the walls was no more than thirty arm-lengths (dhirāʿ)—or less. They tried to find the gap but they could not. So they went back to the goatherd and brought him, and he showed them the gap, but there was no way to gain a hold. Below it grew a fig tree. They tried to make hold but it was too difficult. So one of the Muslims climbed up the tree and Mugīth uncoiled his turban and threw him the end to hold on to. Then the troops ascended until there were many on the wall. Mugīth rode on until he reached the Gate of the Statue, the Bridge Gate, and ordered those who had entered to overpower the guards. At that time the bridge was in ruins son Cordova had none. The Muslims overpowered the guards of the Gate of the Statue—which was then called the Bāb al-Jazīra, the Algeciras Gate. They killed some and put the others to flight and broke the locks.

10

Al-Maqqarī, Nafḥ i, 261.

qurṭuba in arabic written sources (8th–13th century)

145

Then Mugith entered with a group of his men—the scouts and the guides—and made for the palace. When the governor learned of their arrival, he escaped with his men—some four or five hundred—as well as others who joined them and they left by the western gate called Bāb Ishbīliya, the Seville Gate, and sought refuge in a well-fortified church, that of Shant Ajiluḥ, San Acisclo, which they entered. Mugīth entered the palace and made it his own. The next day he laid siege to the infidels in the church, and sent a message to Tāriq about the capture.11 As the chronicle has it, the Visigoth governor set up resistance, together with a group of his troops, in the aforementioned church and, therefore, the seizing of the city could not be completed until three months later. Akhbār majmūʿa’s account goes on as follows: Meanwhile Mugīth besieged the infidels in the church at Cordova for three months until the siege wearied them. Then one morning Mugīth came and was told: The infidel governor has fled alone slinking away making for the mountains of Cordova to join his companions in Toledo leaving his men in the church. So Mugīth pursued him alone and saw him in flight on a sorrel horse making for the village of Qaṭalbayra, Catalavera. Then the infidel turned and when he saw that Mugīth had urged his horse upon him, he was astounded. He turned from the road and came to a hollow where the horse fell and broke its neck. When Mugīth arrived, the infidel was sitting on his shield offering to surrender and Mugīth took him prisoner. He was the only governor to be captured: some negotiated a safe conduct and others fled to Jillīqiya, Galicia. Then Mugīth returned to the remaining infidels and called upon them to surrender and executed them. That church was known as the “church of the prisoners” (kanīsat al-asrāʾ). The governor was imprisoned so he could be brought before the caliph. He collected the Jews of Cordova and entrusted the city to them. He took the palace for himself and gave the town to his men.12 According to further sources, the city would have been taken at once, by capitulation and by force. The anonymous Fatḥ al-Andalus sums up the aforementioned story that tells how Mugīth seized the city, taking everything inside as

11 12

Akhbār majmūʿa 20; James, A history of early al-Andalus 51–52. Akhbār majmūʿa 23; James, A history of early al-Andalus 53.

146

garcía-sanjuán

plunder. However, other traditions (athar) claim that it would have been taken by covenant (ṣulḥ), and therefore, Christians were allowed to keep the church that “up to this day” exists in the western part of the city. The chronicle insists on this “dual conquest” when claiming that “Cordoba was taken by force (qahr), except the church placed in the suburb, because an agreement was reached (ṣūliḥū) there with the natives who were inside, and therefore they came out peacefully (ʿalā salām).”13 The accounts describing Qurṭuba as a city taken at once by force and by treaty bear enormous resemblance to the case of Damascus, the first Umayyad capital city. At the end of the 12th century, the Andalusi scholar Ibn Jubayr visited the old Umayyad capital and recalled the early Islamic seizing of the city in his travel account (riḥla). While Khālid b. al-Walīd broke in through the eastern side, Abū ʿUbayda b. al-Jarrāḥ did so from the western side. Both armies met at the Church of St. John the Baptist, the city’s major Christian shrine that, as a result, was divided into two parts. The half that Ibn al-Jarrāḥ seized by treaty remained in the hands of the Christians, while the eastern part, taken by force, passed into the hands of the Muslims and was turned into a mosque.14 In all likelihood, the rise of the caliphate in Cordoba explains the converging narratives about the origins of both Umayyad mosques. Drawing from Muḥammad b. ʿĪsā, al-Rāzī claims that, when the Muslims took Cordoba, they followed the path set by Abū ʿUbayd b. al-Jarrāḥ and Khālid b. al-Walīd based on the doctrine of Caliph ʿUmar b. al-Khaṭṭāb, according to which churches must be shared with the Christians (mushāṭarat al-rūm fī kanāʾisi-him), as he did in the case of Damascus and in other places seized by pact (ṣulḥ). Thus, the Muslims split the great church of Cordoba into two, setting the congregational mosque in their half. The situation remained unchanged for several decades, until ʿAbd al-Raḥman al-Dākhil, the first Umayyad ruler of al-Andalus, rose to power in 756. According to al-Rāzī’s account, because of the unremitting growth of the local population, the mosque became increasingly crowded, thus making prayer more and more difficult and uncomfortable. In order to gain more room for the believers, the emir ʿAbd al-Raḥmān decided to take control of the Christian part: the Christians turned down his first offer but they finally accepted, selling their part of the building to the Muslims. The Umayyad emir would have paid them 100,000 dinars in compensation and likewise allow them to rebuild, outside the city, the churches demolished at the time of the conquest.

13 14

Fatḥ al-Andalus 21 and 23. Ibn Jubayr, Riḥla 262–263; Broadhurst, The travels 272–273.

qurṭuba in arabic written sources (8th–13th century)

3

147

The Umayyad Period

According to certain Arabic sources, the political role of Qurṭuba reached back to the pre-Islamic period. Such is the case, for instance, of an anonymous and late Maghreb source which ranks the city as the capital of al-Andalus before and after Islam (qāʿidat al-Andalus wa-umm qurā-hā fī-l-qadīm wa-l-ḥadīth wal-jahiliyya wa-l-islām).15 Over the Umayyad period, and in particular, across the century of the caliphate (316–422/929–1031), Qurṭuba became consolidated as the major political and cultural capital of al-Andalus, and likewise as the most important Iberian city, only outweighed at that time by Constantinople and Baghdad. As the seat of the Umayyad’s unbroken rule over nearly three centuries (138–422/756– 1031), the city’s political, urban, and cultural flowering largely relied upon their presence. Much like in the case of Damascus, the congregational mosque arguably represents the hallmark of the dynasty and its most enduring legacy in the city. Arabic sources offer valuable information about the building, in respect to its origin as well as to its different constructive stages and its main architectonical features. According to the aforementioned text of Aḥmad al-Rāzī, the major Christian shrine of the city, devoted to St. Vincent, would have predated the mosque: shrouded in a heated and old academic controversy, the presence of an earlier church beneath the mosque remains a traditional claim of the local bishopric (currently, the legal owner of the building), and in fact, the remains of a mosaic allegedly belonging to St. Vincent’s church are the first thing the visitor bumps into when entering the building. A correct understanding of al-Rāzī’s text requires paying careful attention to the specific political context in which it was written: the recently established Umayyad Caliphate of Cordoba (316/929) needed to gain political legitimacy, especially in front of their North African Fatimid rivals. The account, according to which the mosque of Cordoba was built over an earlier major Christian church, runs parallel to traditions claiming the same relationship between the Umayyad mosque of Damascus and the church of St. John the Baptist. This striking resemblance between both Umayyad shrines’ narratives could hardly be considered as mere coincidence. The setting of narratives aimed at comparing the origins of both buildings clearly represents a strategy for lending legitimacy to the Western branch of the Umayyads’ reestablishing the caliphate.16

15 16

Dhikr bilād al-Andalus i, 20. Calvo Capilla, Analogies entre les grandes mosquées de Damas et Cordoue.

148

garcía-sanjuán

The Church of Cordoba, backed up by the robust Spanish National Catholic scholarly tradition,17 has traditionally ignored the conclusions reached by specialists and thereby unflinchingly insists on the existence of St. Vincent’s church against all available archaeological evidence. Being apparently wellaware of the glaring inconsistency of this approach, significant local archaeology sectors in Cordoba have lately pointed to the existence of an “episcopal complex,” a set of religious buildings structured around an episcopal palace and a church.18 However, this claim has been likewise challenged on the grounds that the remains unearthed beneath the mosque so far are incompatible with a Christian shrine or any other religious building. From this perspective, the seemingly fresh approach of the “episcopal complex” would be merely a reformulation of the ungrounded and stubborn claim about St. Vincent’s church as the immediate predecessor of the Umayyad shrine.19 Eduardo Manzano has stressed the political and ideological relevance of the mosque in shaping the strong dynastic self-awareness of the Umayyads. Being the finest architectonic Umayyad symbol, it comes as no surprise that most of the dynasty’s rulers took part in the building process, always keeping its formal unity unchanged.20 The Quran of ʿUthmān b. ʿAffān, the third orthodox caliph and the most glorious ancestor of the dynasty, represents a second relevant element for understanding how the mosque helped the Umayyads to gain religious prestige and political legitimacy. Stained with drops of the caliph’s own blood, it represented the dynasty’s most valued material possession. Acting as a huge architectural reliquary, the mosque harbored the Quran in one of its rooms, and every Friday, the day of collective prayer, it was brought out to the prayer hall so that the people of Cordoba could look at it as a reminder of the famed ancestry of the dynasty.21

17

18 19 20 21

Sánchez Saus, De San Vicente a Mezquita aljama. His colorful track record helps understand why his academic production is so narrowly subordinated to the interests of the Catholic Church. A former high-ranking member of the Francoist political organization Falange Española de las jons, Sánchez Saus joined Vox (current major far-right Spanish party) for the 2015 local Andalusian elections and currently remains an outstanding member of the Catholic lobby “Asociación Católica de Propagandistas.” Branding him the most vocal representative of National Catholic scholarship in current Spanish medieval studies would be, therefore, hardly exaggerated; see García-Sanjuán, La persistencia. Marfil Ruiz, La sede episcopal de San Vicente; Toral-Niehoff and León Muñoz, Ornament of the world 114–115. Arce Sainz, La supuesta basílica de San Vicente en Córdoba. Manzano Moreno, Conquistadores, emires y califas 213–218. Al-Idrīsī, Nuzha ii, 577; Dhikr bilād al-Andalus i, 39. On the ʿUthmānic codex, see Zadeh, From drops of blood.

qurṭuba in arabic written sources (8th–13th century)

149

Most 10th-century Andalusi authors wrote in the courtier milieu and at the service of the Umayyads, routinely praising the greatness and magnificence of Qurṭuba as the seat of the caliphate. Such is, in particular, the case of alKhushanī when he extols the city in terms like “the great capital, Cordoba, the most illustrious city” (al-ḥāḍira Qurṭuba al-ʿuẓmā dhāt al-fakhr al-aʿẓam). He likewise enthusiastically formulates what is likely the most bombastic definition of the city: seat of the imamate, capital of the community, mine of virtues, residence of the righteous, beacon of knowledge, meeting point of scholars, and center of the world (qāʿidat al-arḍ). It comes as no surprise that, for alKhushanī, the reason for Cordoba’s greatness lies precisely in the presence of the Umayyad caliph.22 The news about the great political and urban development of Cordoba across the Umayyad period soon reached the rest of the Muslim world. Late in the 9th century, al-Yaʿqubī mentions “a city called Cordoba” (madīna yuqāl la-hā Qurṭuba),23 thus apparently revealing little knowledge about it. However, later authors laid bare a much sharper awareness of its status as a large capital city. Such is the case, for instance, of Abū-l-Ḥasan al-Masʿūdī (d. 345/985), writing in 332/943–944 and referring to Cordoba as the “capital of the kingdom of al-Andalus” (dār mamlakat al-Andalus).24 Far more important is the account written by another Middle Eastern author, Ibn Ḥawqal, born in Nusaybin (currently, southeastern Turkey) and who personally visited the Umayyad capital, probably as a Fatimid spy,25 a circumstance that gives special value to his remarks. He arrived in al-Andalus early in 337/948, two years ahead of the death of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii, the founder of the Western Umayyad Caliphate. His work, Kitāb Ṣūrat al-arḍ, includes a number of commentaries and remarks that, taken together, represent one of the oldest general characterizations of Cordoba and its population in Arabic literature. According to Ibn Ḥawqal, Cordoba is not only the largest city in al-Andalus but likewise a major urban center without parallel in the Middle East, including al-Jazīra, al-Shām, and Egypt,26 due as much to its population as to its size and urban infrastructures (souks, mosques, baths, and inns). His approach to

22 23 24 25 26

Al-Khushanī, Quḍāt Qurṭuba 25. Al-Yaʿqubī, al-Buldān 193. The author, however, brings this formula almost every time he mentions a city in al-Andalus, so it might be merely considered a stereotype. Al-Masʿūdī, Murūj i, 361 and 363. However, according to Garcin (Ibn Hawqal, l’Orient et le Maghreb), he would be just merely a ruined mechant. Ibn Ḥawqal, Ṣūrat al-arḍ 111.

150

garcía-sanjuán

the city is no less optimistic with regard to its size, which he considers “huge” ( fakhma wāsiʿat al-ḥāl), drawing a parallel with Baghdad, by far the largest Islamic hub at that time: to his mind, Cordoba equals half the size of the Abbasid capital.27 Regarding the dwellers of Cordoba, Ibn Ḥawqal highlights their opulence (kathrat al-māl), especially with regard to clothing (mentioning fine linen and silk garments), mounts, and also food and drink.28 He likewise points out that, except for craftsmen and those of low category (ahl al-ṣanāʾiʿ wa-l-ardhāl), they used to go to the market on agile mounts (ʿalā fārih min al-markūb), something he clearly stresses as a sign of social distinction.29 A second literary reference of great interest about Umayyad Cordoba over the caliphate period is the work of al-Muqaddasī. Originally from Jerusalem and writing in the late 10th century, his account may well be compared to Ibn Ḥawqal’s, since his description includes considerations that confirm, at least in part, those previously made by the Fatimid spy. His description, which is worth quoting, runs as follows: Qurṭuba is the capital of al-Andalus. I have heard some ʿUthmānī (?) remark that it is a more important town than Baghdād. Situated in a desert plain, a mountain overlooking it, it consists of an inner city (alMadīna) and suburbs. The chief mosque is within the city, as are some of the markets; most of the markets, however, and the palace of the ruler are in the suburbs. In front of the town flows a large stream. The roofs are of tile, with columns of marble; all around it are basins for the ablutions. AlMadīna (the inner city) has five gates: Bāb al-Ḥadīd (iron), Bāb al-ʿAṭṭarīn (perfumers), Bāb al-Qanṭara (arcade), Bāb Yahūd (Jews), Bāb ʿĀmir. The evidence is clear, and opinions agree that it is an important metropolis, friendly and attractive, where one finds justice, wisdom, political sense, benignity, obvious prosperity, and religion.30 Much like Ibn Ḥawqal, al-Muqaddasī compares Cordoba with Baghdad, defining the Umayyad seat as “an important metropolis” (miṣr jalīl), thus confirming the widespread image of the city as a large capital among Arab authors from different origins. About the same time, the fame of Cordoba reached Christian Europe and the German nun Hrotsvitha, canoness of the Gandersheim Abbey 27 28 29 30

Ibn Ḥawqal, Ṣūrat al-arḍ 112. Ibn Ḥawqal, Ṣūrat al-arḍ 113. Ibn Ḥawqal, Ṣūrat al-arḍ 114. Collins, The best divisions 192–193. Arabic text in al-Muqaddasī, Aḥsan 233.

qurṭuba in arabic written sources (8th–13th century)

151

(Lower Saxony), described it in one of her poems as clarum decus orbis (“the ornament of the World”).31 As already mentioned, Cordoba became the cultural focal point of al-Andalus and one of the most important beacons of knowledge across the Mediterranean basin. It housed a large number of religious scholars, thinkers, and scientists working in different fields of knowledge. The intense development of all sorts of intellectual activities associated with the presence of learned men of religion decisively contributed to consolidating the idea of the cultural magnificence of Cordoba. The Umayyads fostered the establishment of the Maliki doctrine in al-Andalus, and since the second half of the 9th century, Córdoba became one of the main focuses of this legal school in the classical Islamic world. As Maribel Fierro has pointed out, Maliki thought became the hallmark of Andalusi identity.32 Much later, early in the 13th century, al-Shaqundī emphasized the close bond connecting the people from Cordoba with the Maliki doctrine: “The people from Córdoba are the most zealous observers, in all their acts, of the most authentic Maliki sentences, to the point that they do not appoint a judge if it is not with the condition that he would never depart, in his decisions, from the school of Ibn al-Qāsim.”33 To a large extent, the rise of Cordoba as the main cultural focus of the Islamic West was consolidated with the second Umayyad caliph, al-Ḥakam ii al-Mustanṣir. The stable political situation he inherited from his father and the careful education he received allowed him to devote quality time to knowledge and books. In his general history of sciences, Ṣāʾid al-Andalusī, writing in the year 460/1067–1068, more than three decades after the fall of the caliphate, mentions the role al-Ḥakam played as a great “patron” of culture: Toward the end of the first part of the fourth century, al-amīr al-Ḥakam al-Mustanṣir bi-llāh ibn ʿAbd al-Raḥmān al-Nāṣir li-Dīn Allāh began his effort to support the sciences and befriend the scientists. He brought from Baghdad, from Egypt, and from other eastern countries the best of their scientific works and their most valuable publications whether new or old. He began this activity during the reign of his father and continued this endeavor during the time when he was in power. His collection became equal to what the Banū ʿAbbās were able to put together over a much 31 32 33

Hroswitha, Hrotsvithae opera 52. Menocal (The ornament of the world) took this expression as the main title of her book. Fierro, La política religiosa de ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii 137. Al-Maqqarī, Nafḥ iii, 216.

152

garcía-sanjuán

longer period. This was possible only because of his great love for science, his eagerness to acquire the virtue associated with it, and his desire to imitate the sage kings. During his reign, the people became very interested in reading the books of early authors and studying and learning their doctrines; then he died in Ṣafar of A.h. 366 [September 977 ce].34 For political and ideological reasons, al-Manṣūr decided to wipe out al-Ḥakam’s library.35 When Hishām ii (976–1009 and 1010–1013) rose to power, al-Manṣūr became the ḥājib and put the caliphate under his heel, turning the child ruler into a mere figurehead.36 In order to gain political legitimacy, he applied a full political program of urban development in the Umayyad capital, including the last and most important enlargement of the mosque.37 Likewise, he sought to please the conservative body of ʿulamāʾ by purging the library, a decision that had dire effects on the evolution of knowledge in al-Andalus: The books that dealt with language, grammar, poetry, history, medicine, tradition, hadith, and other similar sciences that were permitted in alAndalus were preserved. And he ordered that all the rest be destroyed. Only very few were saved; the rest were either burned or thrown in the wells of the palace and covered with dirt and rocks. Abū ʿĀmir performed this act to gain the support of the common people of al-Andalus and to discredit the doctrine of Caliph al-Ḥakam. To justify his deed, he proclaimed that these sciences were not known to their ancestors and were loathed by their past leaders. Everyone who read them was suspected of heresy and of not being in conformity with Islamic laws. All who were active in the study of philosophy reduced their activities and kept, as secret, whatever they had pertaining to these sciences. The men of talent kept to themselves what they knew about these sciences and worked in the fields that were permitted, such as mathematics, religious laws, medicine, and other similar disciplines, until the destruction of the Umayyad dynasty in al-Andalus. Toward the beginning of the fifth century of the Hijrah calendar, the country became divided by warlords and every one of them took one of its principal cities for his capital. The kings of the great civilization of Córdoba became preoccupied with

34 35 36 37

Salem and Kumar, Science in the medieval world 61. On this library, see Wasserstein, The library of al-Ḥakam al-Mustanṣir. On the specific circumstances surrounding the proclamation of Hishām, see GarcíaSanjuán, Legalidad islámica y legitimidad política en el califato de Córdoba. Córdoba de la Llave, La ciudad de Córdoba en tiempos de Almanzor.

qurṭuba in arabic written sources (8th–13th century)

153

these revolts to the neglect of science and learning and were finally forced to sell whatever books and furnishings were available in the palace of Córdoba; objects were sold at trivial values and at the cheapest prices. As a result, the books were scattered all over al-Andalus. This is why one may find few segments of old scientific books that were saved when the library of al-Ḥakam was destroyed during the reign of al-Manṣūr ibn Abī ʿĀmir.38 During the caliphate, knowledge became the authentic hallmark of the city, as claimed in some anonymous verses where Cordoba is described as surpassing all other cities by four things: the bridge, the mosque, Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, and, most importantly, knowledge (al-ʿilm aʿẓam shayʾ).39

4

From the Taifa Kingdoms to the Berber Dynasties

Writing in 631/1224, the Maghreb chronicler ʿAbd al-Wāḥid al-Marrākushī claims that, under the Umayyads, the city reached its peak: “the power, urban development and population growth achieved by Qurṭuba was unprecedented in any other city.”40 According to all available testimonies, the end of the Umayyads meant a turning point in the evolution of the city. The fall of the caliphate sparked a deep political crisis in al-Andalus, leading to sweeping changes in many aspects and ushering in a new historical stage. If the heyday of Qurṭuba is to be narrowly connected with Umayyad rule, the fall of the dynasty provoked the end of its role as the main political and cultural hub of al-Andalus. Arab authors left a good number of explicit testimonies of this process. The general impression given by our sources, patchy as they are, is that the beginning of this decadence took place over the 22-year-long period of the fitna (400–422/1009–1031), the political and social crisis leading to the abolition of the Umayyad Caliphate and the piecemeal territorial fragmentation of al-Andalus into different independent entities, known as the Taifa kingdoms.41 Due to its status as the seat of Umayyad power, much of the violence and social unrest that shapes this period focused on Cordoba, and therefore, its population suffered its more negative consequences with particular intensity.

38 39 40 41

Salem and Kumar, Science in the medieval world, 61–62. Al-Maqqarī, Nafḥ i, 153. Al-Marrākushī, Muʿjib 269: wa-balaghat Qurṭuba hādhihi min al-quwwa wa-kathrat alʿimāra wa-izdiḥām al-nās mablaghan lam tablagh-hu balda. García-Sanjuán, Replication and fragmentation.

154

garcía-sanjuán

One of the most outspoken testimonies in this regard comes from Ibn Ḥazm (d. 456/1064), in all likelihood the best-known Andalusi author of his time. Born and raised in Cordoba during ʿAmirid rule, in which members of his family participated directly, he witnessed the turmoil of the fitna, being later forced to leave the city. In his most famous work, The ring of the dove (Ṭawq al-ḥamāma), the ẓāhirī polymath expresses his feelings of grief, gloom, and nostalgia over the decline experienced by the once great Umayyad capital: A visitor from Cordova informed me, when I asked him for news of that city, that he had seen our mansion in Balat Mughith, on the western side of the metropolis; its traces were well-nigh obliterated, its waymarks effaced; vanished were its spacious patios. All had been changed by decay; the joyous pleasaunces were converted to barren deserts and howling wildernesses; its beauty lay in shattered ruins. Where peace once reigned, fearful chasms yawned; wolves resorted there, ghosts frolicked, demons sported. Wild beasts now lurked where men like lions, abounding in wealth and every luxury, once paid court to statuesque maidens; who were all now scattered and dispersed to the four corners of the earth. Those gracious halls, those richly ornamented boudoirs, that once shone like the sun, the loveliness of their panorama lifting all cares from the mind, being now entirely overwhelmed by desolation and utter destruction seemed rather like the gaping mouths of savage beasts, proclaiming the end that awaits this mortal world, and revealing visibly the final destiny of those who dwell therein, the ultimate fate of those you now see abiding here below; so that you would be moved, after so long reluctance to abandon the world, henceforth eagerly to renounce it.42 Ibn Ḥazm by no means represents an isolated case. Much to the contrary, other Arabic sources convey the same negative feelings about the decadence of the great capital city of al-Andalus. Such is the case of the famous elegy to Cordoba by Ibn Shuhayd (d. 426/1035), which begins by bemoaning that among the ruins (ṭulūl) there is no one left who can report on loved ones.43 Another important Arab author from the Taifa period, bearing witness to the same reality, is al-Bakrī (d. 487/1094), whose geographical work (Kitāb alMasālik wa-l-mamālik) includes what is in all likelihood the oldest description of the Umayyad mosque. When talking about Qurṭuba and its rural districts,

42 43

Arberry, The ring of the dove xx. Dickie, El Dīwān 150–153.

qurṭuba in arabic written sources (8th–13th century)

155

al-Bakrī explicitly links the outbreak of the fitna with a process of decadence and depopulation lasting up to the time in which he is writing, 460/1067–1068: As a result of the fitna that broke out at the beginning of the year 400 (1009) of the hijra and continues until our own days (which is the year 460) the vestiges of these villages have vanished and the foundations of their development have been altered, remaining in their most depopulated due to the fact that its inhabitants have left. Such is the divine decree, which causes everything new to be corrupted and all population to be abandoned, until God inherits the earth and all who are on it, because He is the best heir.44 Cordoba lost its role as the main political center of al-Andalus during the 11th century, a process followed by the consolidation of the different Taifa kingdoms and the flowering of other cities. This period witnessed the rise of Seville under the rule of the Banū ʿAbbād as the new main Islamic Iberian hub, a role later consolidated under the rule of the Berber dynasties, Almoravids, and Almohads. The best description of Cordoba during the Almohad period belongs to the great geographer al-Idrīsī (d. 1165), later extensively reproduced by al-Ḥimyarī, the author of a vast topographical dictionary, including around 1,650 entries, 10% of which correspond to Iberian toponyms: although the chronology of this source remains uncertain, it was certainly written after the Christian conquest in 633/1236, an event he mentions at the end of his account (see below).45 AlIdrīsī wrote in the mid-12th century, during the early Almohad period when, according to his own words, Almería was under Christian control (1147–1157).46 Although it was no longer the capital city by that time, the author emphasizes the role of Cordoba as the most important city of al-Andalus and the seat of the Islamic caliphate (qāʿidat bilād al-Andalus wa-umm muduni-hā wa-dār alkhilāfa al-islāmiyya).47 Next, and in an apparent contradiction, he mentions its decline as follows: “At the moment we are writing this book, the city of Córdoba has been crushed by discord and disfigured by all sorts of events and calamit-

44 45 46

47

Al-Bakrī, Masālik ii, 902. Reference to Quran 19:40 and 21:89. On this source, see Navarro Oltra et al., Biblioteca de al-Andalus: de al-ʿAbbādīya a Ibn Abyaḍ. Al-Idrīsī, Nuzha ii, 563: “At the present moment, when we are writing our book, Almería is under the Christian domination” (wa-l-Mariyya fī hādhā-l-waqt alladhī allafu-nā kitābu-nā hādhā fī-hi ṣārat milkan bi-aydī-l-rūm). Al-Idrīsī, Nuzha ii, 573.

156

garcía-sanjuán

ies causing many setbacks to its dwellers, of which only a few are left today. However, it remains the most renowned city in the country of al-Andalus.”48 Al-Idrīsī, therefore, combines two opposing ideas: the urban and demographic decline of Cordoba and its enduring reputation as a major urban center. His attention is largely drawn towards the Umayyad mosque, unrivaled in its architectonic style, decoration, and size. Al-Idrīsī includes a thorough description of the building with very precise indications about its measures and main decorative features. Due to the extreme accuracy of his highly detailed picture, it could hardly be an exaggeration to consider his account as the most comprehensive description of the building to be found in Arabic sources.49 Invoking the Umayyad precedent, the first Almohad caliph, ʿAbd al-Muʾmin, sought to reestablish Cordoba as the seat of Islamic political power in Iberia, a project described by the Almohad chronicler Ibn Ṣāḥib al-Ṣalā in detail.50 Over the preceding decades, the city was seriously damaged as a consequence of the fitna period started under the Banū Hammūd, and then continued with the actions of Ibn Hamushk, one of the main leaders of the local opposition against the Almohads. As a consequence of this long period of unrest and insecurity, the city suffered devastating depopulation, to such an extent that the number of residents dropped to only 52.51 Further on, the decline of Cordoba reappears in the writings of one of the best-known Arab geographers, Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī (d. 626/1229). In his huge Dictionary of countries (Muʿjam al-buldān), including nearly 13,000 place names, Yāqūt identifies the Taifa period as the beginning of a process of decadence in Qurṭuba, drawing a parallel with the consolidation of Seville under the Banū ʿAbbād dynasty, to the point that, at the moment he is writing, early in the 13th century, the old Umayyad capital has become just a medium-size city.52 Arabic sources of all sorts consistently point to the decline of the city. As explicitly mentioned by an anonymous and late Maghreb source, Qurṭuba grew from the Islamic conquest up to 400/1009, that is to say, until the outbreak

48 49 50 51

52

Al-Idrīsī, Nuzha ii, 579. Al-Idrīsī, Nuzha ii, 575–579. Ibn Ṣāḥib al-Ṣalā, al-Mann 138–146. “Verily, Cordoba and its people tasted in the calamity of this Andalusi civil war ( fitna) the likes of which their forebears had never suffered during the revolt of the Hammudids, due to the oppression of Ibn Hamushk and to his remote foreign cruelty”; Jones, The Christian companion 824–825. As pointed out by Huici Miranda, Historia i, 204; Ibn al-Abbār (alḤullā ii, 259) confirms this information in his biography of Aḥmad b. ʿAbd al-Raḥmān b. Aḥmad al-Waqqāshī, raising the number of inhabitants to 80. Yāqūt, Muʿjam iv, 368–369: wa-kharabat Qurṭuba wa-ṣārat ka-iḥdā al-mudun al-mutawassiṭa.

qurṭuba in arabic written sources (8th–13th century)

157

of the fitna, which ushered in a process of decadence and depopulation lasting until the Christian conquest, correctly dated as Shawwāl 23, 633/June 30, 1236.53 However deep it could have been, this urban decay does not seem to have made the strong feelings of pride, associated with the high prestige the city reached in the past, disappear. An anonymous poet from between the 11th and the 12th centuries voiced this emotion when he claimed that “there is no place on earth like Cordoba” ( fa-mā ʿalā al-arḍ quṭr mithl Qurṭuba).54 Although the 1162 Almohad project of reestablishing the seat of power in Qurṭuba could not ultimately be achieved, recent archaeological approaches suggest that the city thrived under the Almohads.55

5

The End of Qurṭuba: The Christian Conquest (633/1236)

The conquest of Cordoba must be framed against the background of the sweeping Christian expansion that took place after the Almohad defeat at Las Navas de Tolosa in 1212. Five years later, Fernando iii rose to power as king of Castile, achieving great success by seizing three major southern Andalusi cities: Cordoba (1236), Jaén (1246), and Seville (1248). Despite being a highly sensitive loss for the Muslims, or maybe precisely because of that, Arabic sources are remarkably poor with regard to the Christians seizing Qurṭuba, and therefore, we largely rely on the Christian sources in order to gain a better understanding of the specific circumstances in which this crucial event took place. The late Maghreb chronicler Ibn ʿIdhārī, writing in the early 14th century, provides the most complete account to be found in Arabic sources, although what he actually says is very limited.56 The Christians seized the city after a siege, breaking in from the eastern side, and the Christian king, “Alfonso” (Fernando iii), expelled the Muslims (akhraja al-muslimīn minhā). According to the prevailing rules of war back then, in cities taken by force, the loot included the local population, and therefore, usually became enslaved. However, this rule did not work in the case of Cordoba because, thanks to Christian sources, we learn that Muslims and Christians drew up a capitulation

53 54 55 56

Dhikr bilād al-Andalus i, 31–32. The same source insists below that Cordoba’s decline started in 400; Dhikr bilād al-Andalus i, 35. Dhikr bilād al-Andalus i, 42; al-Maqqarī, Nafḥ i, 459. Blanco-Guzmán, La sombra omeya. Ibn ʿIdhārī, Bayān al-mughrib (qism al-muwaḥḥidīn) 331.

158

garcía-sanjuán

treaty,57 an aspect that is neglected in the Arabic sources. In order to emphasize the dramatic nature of this event, Ibn ʿIdhārī draws a parallel with the fall of Toledo, which took place 156 years before (151, following the Christian calendar), ranking the loss of Cordoba as one of the direst calamities that ever happened to the Muslims (min ajall muṣāb wa-aʿẓamu-hu). He likewise dates the fall of the city on Shawwāl 23, 633/June 30, 1236, which, as we shall see next, is the standard date among Arab authors. Ibn Abī Zarʿ, also a Maghrebi author, is yet less eloquent than Ibn ʿIdhārī. The seizing of the city took place, he says, from the eastern part, treacherously and because of Muslims’ carelessness (ghafla). While the men fought hard against the Christians, women and children took refuge in the western side until the city finally fell into the enemies’ hands. Although he points to a wrong date (Shawwāl 3, 633/June 10, 1236),58 it could merely be a copyist’s mistake. In fact, chronological blunders of this kind are not unusual in Arab sources. This is the case in a text transmitted by the late Maghrebi compiler al-Maqqarī, according to which “the conquest of the city of Córdoba by the enemy—may God Almighty destroy them—took place on Sunday, Shawwāl 23 of the year 636”:59 while the day and month are correct, the year is wrong. Other Arabic sources confirm the chronology set by Ibn ʿIdhārī,60 among them the well-known Valencian polymath Ibn al-Abbār (d. 658/1260), who points to two different week days: in the biography of Aḥmad b. Muḥammad b. Aḥmad b. Muḥammad b. Sulaymān al-Anṣārī al-Awsī,61 he says it was Sunday, while in that of Yaḥyā b. ʿAbd al-Raḥmān b. Aḥmad b. ʿAbd al-Raḥmān b. Rabīʿ al-Ashʿarī, known as Ibn Ubayy, it was Saturday.62 In his biography of Rabīʿ b. ʿAbd al-Raḥmān b. Rabīʿ al-Ashʿar, the Nasrid author al-Bunnāhī likewise points to the aforementioned standard date, Sunday, Shawwāl 23, 633.63 According to most Arabic sources, therefore, the city fell at Christians hands one day later than established in Christian sources (June 29, 1236).64 Besides chronological issues, the only relevant information to be found in the Arabic sources about the end of Qurṭuba refers to the scholars who left the city after the Christian conquest, a total of ten having been identified so far 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64

González Jiménez, Fernando iii el Santo 155–156. Ibn Abī Zarʿ, al-Anīs al-muṭrib bi-rawḍ 276. Al-Maqqarī, Nafḥ iv, 472. None of which are mentioned by Benaboud, La caída de Córdoba según las fuentes andalusíes. Ibn al-Abbār, Takmila i, 226–227, nº 301. Ibn al-Abbār, al-Takmila iv, 169–170, nº 3420. Al-Bunnāhī, al-Marqaba 164. González Jiménez, Fernando iii el Santo 156.

qurṭuba in arabic written sources (8th–13th century)

159

(see the appendix below).65 The scarce set of data recorded by narrative and biographic sources looks quite unsatisfactory, especially taking into account that, for several centuries, Cordoba shone as the political and cultural capital of al-Andalus and that, during the 13th century, the city still remained one of the main urban hubs of the country. In the words of al-Ḥimyarī: “The beauties of this city and its splendor were too great for one to try to bring them back, but its fortune declined, its star faded, the situation of Islam weakened in the peninsula and discord arose among Muslims. Late in shawwāl of the year 633, the Christians seized it and established their authority there.”66

Appendix: Exiled ʿulamāʾ after the Christian Conquest of Qurṭuba 1. ʿAbd al-Ḥaqq b. Saʿīd b. Muḥammad b. Ayyūb al-Hintātī, known as al-Qabqābī, left Cordoba when the Christians seized it and died nearly one year later, by the end of Shawwāl 633, in a shipwreck in the Strait of Gibraltar.67 2. Aḥmad b. Ibrāhīm b. Muḥammad b. Aḥmad al-Makhzūmī, al-Marrākushī, moved to Seville after the departure of the people from Cordoba and died right after, in mid-Dhū-l-ḥijja 633/July 19, 1236.68 3. Aḥmad b. Muḥammad b. Aḥmad b. Muḥammad b. Sulaymān al-Anṣārī alAwsī, left his city after the Christian conquest, which took place on Sunday, Shawwāl 23, 633/June 30, 1236, moving to Málaga and then to Granada.69 4. Idrīs b. Muḥammad b. Muḥammad b. Mūsā al-Anṣārī, left Cordoba when the Christians seized it and settled in Ceuta, where he finally died late in 647 (April 16, 1249–April 5, 1250).70 5. Maymūn b. Aḥmad b. Muḥammad al-Qaysī, Maghribī, lived in Cordoba until the enemy took it, settling in Marrakech. Died in 635/1237–1238.71

65 66 67 68 69 70 71

García-Sanjuán, La conquista cristiana de Andalucía 51–53. Al-Ḥimyarī, al-Rawḍ 458–459. Ibn al-Abbār, al-Takmila iii, 267, nº 2545. Al-Marrākushī, al-Dhayl i, 62–63, nº 40. Ibn al-Abbār, al-Takmila i, 226–227, nº 301. Ibn al-Abbār, al-Takmila i, 325, nº 522. Ibn al-Zubayr, Ṣilat al-ṣila, ed. al-Harrās, iii, 77, nº 103.

160

garcía-sanjuán

6. Muḥammad b. Aḥmad b. Muḥammad b. ʿAbd Allāh b. Aḥmad b. Khalaf b. Ibrāhīm al-Tujībī, known as Ibn al-Ḥajj, left his city when the Christians entered it, moving to Seville, where he was appointed judge and died early in Jumādā i 641 (began on October 17, 1243).72 7. Al-Qāsim b. Muḥammad b. Aḥmad b. Muḥammad b. Sulaymān b. Muḥammad b. Sulaymān al-Awsī, known as Ibn al-Ṭaylasān, left Cordoba along with the rest of his population, settling in Malaga. He died in Rabīʿ ii 648 (July 3– August 1, 1250).73 8. Rabīʿ b. ʿAbd al-Raḥmān b. Rabīʿ al-Ashʿarī, judge of Cordoba until the Christian occupation, on Sunday, August 23, 633/June 30, 1236, settling in Seville, where he died shortly after.74 9. Yaḥyā b. ʿAbd al-Raḥmān b. Aḥmad b. ʿAbd al-Raḥmān b. Rabīʿ al-Ashʿarī, known as Ibn Ubayy, judge in Cordoba until the Christians seized it on Saturday, Shawwāl 23, 633/June 30, 1236. After his departure, he was appointed judge in Granada and later died in Malaga in 640/1242–1243.75 10. Yaḥyā b. Dhī l-Nūn Yaḥyā, originally from Seville and a Quran reader in Cordoba when the Christian conquest of the city took place in 633/1236: he went into exile in the Maghreb, settling in Marrakech.76

Bibliography Primary Sources ʿAbd al-Wāḥid al-Marrākushī, al-Muʿjib fī talkhīṣ akhbār al-Mahgrib, ed. Kh.I. al-Manṣur, Beirut 1998. Akhbār majmūʿa, ed. I. al-Abyārī, Beirut 21989. Al-Bakrī, Kitāb al-Masālik wa-l-mamālik, eds. A.P. Van Leeuwen and A. Ferre, 2 vols., Tunisia 1992. Al-Bunnāhī, al-Marqaba al-ʿulyā, ed. E. Lévi-Provençal, Beirut 1948.

72 73 74 75 76

Ibn al-Abbār, al-Takmila ii, 359, nº 1694. Ibn al-Zubayr, Ṣilat al-ṣila, ed. al-Harrās, iv, 194–195, nº 383. Al-Bunnāhī, al-Marqaba 164. Ibn al-Abbār, al-Takmila iv, 169–170, nº 3420. Ibn al-Zubayr, Ṣila, ed. Lévi-Provençal, 195, nº 386; ed. al-Harrās v, 262, nº 538.

qurṭuba in arabic written sources (8th–13th century)

161

Al-Bunnāhī, al-Marqaba al-ʿulyā de al-Nubāhī (La atalaya suprema sobre el cadiazgo y el muftiazgo), ed. and trans. A. Cuellas Marqués, Granada 2005. Dhikr bilād al-Andalus, ed. and Spanish trans. L. Molina, 2 vols., Granada 1983. Dickie, J., El Dīwān de Ibn Šuhayd al-Andalusī, Córdoba 1975. Fatḥ al-Andalus, ed. L. Molina, Madrid 1994. Hroswitha, Passio Sancti Pelagii, Hrotsvithae opera (Monumenta Germaniae Historica; ss. rer. Germanicarum), ed. P. von Winterfeld, Berlin 1902. Ibn al-Abbār, al-Takmila li-kitāb al-Ṣila, ed. Bašār ʿAwwād Maʿrūf, 4 vols., Tunisia 2011. Ibn al-Abbār, al-Ḥullā al-siyarāʾ, ed. Ḥusayn Muʾnis, 2 vols., Cairo 21985. Ibn Abī Zarʿ, al-Anīs al-muṭrib bi-rawḍ al-qirṭās fī akhbār mulūk al-Maghrib wa-taʾrīkh madīnat Fās, Rabat 1972. Ibn Ḥawqal, Kitāb Ṣūrat al-arḍ, ed. M.J. De Goeje, leiden 1939. Ibn ʿIdhārī, al-Bayān al-mughrib, ed. I. ʿAbbās, 4 vols., Beirut 51998. Ibn ʿIdhārī, al-Bayān al-mughrib (qism al-muwaḥḥidīn), ed. M.I. Al-Kattānī et al., Casablanca 1985. Ibn Jubayr, Riḥla, ed. W. Wright, Leiden, 1907. Ibn Ṣāḥib al-Ṣalā, al-Mann bi-l-imāma, ed. ʿAbd al-Hādī al-Tāzī, Beirut 31987. Ibn al-Shabbāṭ, Ṣilat al-ṣimṭ, ed. A.M. al-ʿAbbādī, Madrid 1971. Ibn al-Zubayr, Ṣilat al-ṣila, ed. E. Lévi-Provençal, Rabat 1938. Ibn al-Zubayr, Ṣilat al-ṣila, ed. ʿA.-S. al-Harrās, 3 vols., Rabat 1993–1995. al-Ḥimyarī, al-Rawḍ al-miʿṭār fī khabar al-aqṭār, ed. I. ʿAbbās, Beirut 21984. Al-Idrīsī, Kitāb Nuzhat al-mushtāq fī ikhtirāq al-āfāq, 2 vols., Cairo 1994. Al-Khushanī, Kitāb Quḍāt Qurṭuba, ed. I. al-Abyārī, Beirut 21989. Al-Maqqarī, Nafḥ al-ṭīb min guṣn al-Andalus al-ratīb, ed. I. ʿAbbās, 8 vols., Beirut 1968. Al-Marrākushī, al-Dhayl wa-l-takmila li-kitabay al-Mawṣul wa-l-Ṣila, eds. M. Ibn Sharīfa and I. ʿAbbās, 8 vols., Rabat and Beirut 1964–1984. Al-Masʿūdī, Murūj al-dhahab, eds. and French trans. Ch. Barbier de Meynard and A. Pavet de Courteille, 9 vols., Paris 1861–1877. Al-Muqaddasī, Aḥsan al-taqāsīm fī maʿrifat al-aqālīm, ed. M.J. de Goeje, Leiden 21906. Al-Yaʿqubī, Kitāb al-Buldān, ed. M.A. al-Ḥannāwī, Beirut. Yāqūt, Muʿjam al-buldān, ed. F.ʿA.-ʿA. al-Jundī, 6 vols., Beirut.

Primary Sources (Translations) Arberry, A.J., The ring of the dove, 1953. Online edition: http://www.muslimphilosophy​ .com/hazm/dove/index.html. Broadhurst, R.J.C. The Travels of Ibn Jubayr, London, 1952. Collins, B., The best division for knowledge of the regions, Reading 2001. James, D., A history of early Al-Andalus. The Akhbār majmūʾa, Abingdon 2012. Salem, S.I., and A. Kumar, Science in the medieval world. Book of the categories of nations, by Ṣāʾid al-Andalusī, Austin 1991.

162

garcía-sanjuán

Secondary Sources Arce Sainz, F., La supuesta basílica de San Vicente en Córdoba: de mito histórico a obstinación historiográfica, in Al-Qantara 36 (2015), 11–44. Benaboud, M., La caída de Córdoba según las fuentes andalusíes, in Andalucía entre Oriente y Occidente (1236–1492). Actas del v Coloquio Internacional de Historia Medieval de Andalucía, Córdoba 1988, 71–78. Blanco-Guzmán, R., La sombra omeya. Córdoba y los almohades en la segunda mitad del siglo vi/xii, in Al-Qantara 40 (2019), 43–71. Calvo Capilla, S., Analogies entre les grandes mosquées de Damas et Cordoue: mythe ou réalité?, in A. Borrut and P.M. Cobb (eds.), Umayyad legacies. Medieval memories from Syria to Spain, Leiden 2010, 281–311. Casal, Mª T., Los cementerios musulmanes de Qurtuba, Córdoba 2003. Castilla Brazales, J., Abū ʿUmar Ibn ʿAfīf, J. Lirola, and J.M. Puerta Vílchez (dir.), Biblioteca de al-Andalus: de Ibn Aḍḥà a Ibn Bušrà, Almería 2009, 32–26. Clarke, N., Medieval Arabic accounts of the conquest of Cordoba: Creating a narrative for a provincial capital, in bsoas 74 (2011), 41–57. Córdoba de la Llave, R., La ciudad de Córdoba en tiempos de Almanzor, in J.L. Del Pino García (ed.), La península ibérica al filo del año 1000. Congreso Internacional Almanzor y su época (Córdoba, 14–18 octubre 2002), Córdoba 2008, 361–376. De la Puente, C., et al., (dir.), Biblioteca de al-Andalus: de Ibn Aḍḥà a Ibn Bušrà, Almería 2009, 550–565. El Hour, R., Muḥammad Ibn Ḥamdīn, J. Lirola, and J.M. Puerta Vílchez (dir.), Biblioteca de al-Andalus: de Ibn al-Dabbāg a Ibn Kurz, Almería 2004, 165–168. Fierro, M., La política religiosa de ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii (r. 300/912–350/961), in AlQanṭara 25 (2004), 119–156. García-Sanjuán, A., Legalidad islámica y legitimidad política en el califato de Córdoba: la proclamación de Hišām ii (360–366/971–976), in Al-Qantara 29 (2008), 45–77. García-Sanjuán, A., La conquista cristiana de Andalucía y el destino de la población musulmana (621–662 H/1224–1264). La aportación de las fuentes árabes, in M. González Jiménez and R. Sánchez Saus (eds.), Arcos y la frontera andaluza (1264– 1330), Universidad de Sevilla 2016, 33–58. García Sanjuán, A., La persistencia del discurso nacionalcatólico sobre el medievo peninsular en la historiografía española actual, in Historiografías: revista de historia y teoría 12 (2016), 132–153. García-Sanjuán, A., La conquista islámica de la península ibérica y la tergiversación del pasado: del catastrofismo al negacionismo, Madrid 22019. García-Sanjuán, A., Replication and fragmentation, the Taifa kingdoms, in M. Fierro (ed.), Routledge handbook of Muslim Iberia, London and New York 2020, 64–88. Garcin, J.Cl., Ibn Hawqal, l’Orient et le Maghreb, in Revue de l’Occident Musulmán et de la Méditerranée 35 (1983), 77–91.

qurṭuba in arabic written sources (8th–13th century)

163

González Gutiérrez, C., Las mezquitas de barrio de Madinat Qurtuba, Córdoba 2012. González Jiménez, M., Fernando iii el Santo, el rey que marcó el destino de España, Seville 2006. Huici Miranda, A., Historia política del Imperio almohade, 2 vols., Tetuán 1956. Jones, L.G., The Christian companion: A rhetorical trope in the narration of intraMuslim conflict during the Almohad epoch, in Anuario de Estudios Medievales 38 (2008), 793–829. Lirola, J., La producción intelectual andalusí: balance de resultados e índices, Almería 2013. Marfil Ruiz, P., La sede episcopal de San Vicente en la Santa Iglesia Catedral de Córdoba, in Al-Mulk. Anuario de Estudios Arabistas 2 (2006), 35–58. Manzano Moreno, E., Conquistadores, emires y califas. Los Omeyas y la formación de al-Andalus, Barcelona 2006. Menocal, Mª.R., The ornament of the world: How Muslims, Jews, and Christians created a culture of tolerance in medieval Spain, New York 2002. Molina, L., Aḥmad al-Rāzī, J. Lirola, and J.M. Puerta Vílchez (dir.), Biblioteca de alAndalus: de al-Qabrīrī a Zumurrud, Almería 2012, 159–163. Navarro Oltra, V.C., et al. (dir.), Biblioteca de al-Andalus: de al-ʿAbbādīya a Ibn Abyaḍ, Almería 2012, 444–451. Sánchez Saus, R., De San Vicente a Mezquita aljama: espacios sagrados y cristianismo en Córdoba bajo dominio islámico, in J. Calvo Poyato (ed.), El Templo de Córdoba: la Mezquita-Catedral, un espacio único en el mundo, Córdoba 2019, 91–108. Toral-Niehoff, A., and A. León Muñoz, Ornament of the world: Urban change in early Islamic Qurṭuba, in S. Panzram (ed.), The power of cities. The Iberian Peninsula from late antiquity to the early modern period, Leiden 2019, 107–160. Wasserstein, D., The library of al-Ḥakam al-Mustanṣir and the culture of Islamic Spain, in Manuscripts of the Middle East 5 (1990–1991), 99–105. Zadeh, T., From drops of blood: Charisma and political legitimacy in the translatio of the ʿUthmānic Codex of al-Andalus, in Journal of Arabic literature 39 (2008), 321– 346. Zanón, J., Topografía de Córdoba almohade a través de las fuentes árabes, Madrid 1989. Zomeño, A., et al. (dir.), Biblioteca de al-Andalus: de Ibn al-Dabbāg a Ibn Kurz, Almería 2004, 290–296.

chapter 8

A City for Muslim Power: Topography, Spaces, and Administration Mohamed Meouak

1

Introduction

It is well-known that Cordoba, as a city and center of political power, is inextricably linked to the history of the Umayyads. For various reasons, this Eastern dynasty that built a power structure and a state, and whose features are known in considerable detail, transformed Cordoba into an outstanding place, raising it to the level of the other great cities in the premodern Arab-Islamic world.1 In order to appreciate this, one need go no further than an example from the 6th/12th century Andalusi geographer al-Zuhrī, who wrote of the great city of the Umayyads: “It was the headquarter of the power of the Umayyads in alAndalus (wa-hiya kānat dār mulk banī Umayya fī l-Andalus). […] Among the four capitals of Islam: Baghdad, Cairo, Kairouan, Cordoba (min qawāʿid al-islām al-arbaʿa: Baghdād wa-l-Qāhira wa-l-Qayrawān wa-Qurṭuba).”2 This interesting short portrayal, although it takes elements of topoi from classical Arabic literature, still constitutes a kind of panegyric to the city and its most illustrious inhabitants, namely the Umayyads. Additionally, the Andalusi geographer recalls the term mulk, an emblematic element in the political apparatus and a trademark of the power of the Umayyads.3 The goals and limitations of this chapter should be clearly defined in order to better understand its purpose. The main objective will be centered on the Umayyad era, the transformation from emirate to caliphate, and above all will consist of setting out ideas and textual materials related to the places and spaces of power and its exercise. But what do we understand by power?4 In this

1 On the emirs and caliphs of the Umayyad dynasty of Cordoba, see some details in Ballestín, Centralization and consolidation 37–58. 2 Al-Zuhrī, Kitāb al-Jaʿrāfiya 86, 109. 3 About the word mulk in Umayyad political terminology, see Meouak, Représentations 91–93; Meouak, Le mulk 176–179. 4 About the fortifications in Cordoba during the Islamic period, see for instance León Muñoz, León Pastor, and Murillo Redondo, El Guadalquivir y las fortificaciones 270–272 (emiral

© Mohamed Meouak, 2023 | doi:10.1163/9789004524156_009

a city for muslim power

165

study, we will limit ourselves to looking at the main aspects of political power and their central administrative bases. Questions about the military, judicial, religious, and economic administration will not be taken into account for various reasons related to the extreme complexity of their historiographical and textual treatment, in spite of them having an evident link to the theme of power and topographical location. The main stages of this study will lead the reader through questions related to historiography and data extracted from Arabic documentation. First, we will consider the research carried out on the city of Cordoba as the seat of Umayyad power. We will pause to reflect on the pioneering studies of historians, arabists, and archaeologists who have dealt with the subject according to specific methodologies and also using the available Arabic texts. We will then look at some topographical spaces in Cordoba that are linked to its power, with the aim of bringing to mind some of the state’s emblematic places and sites by using the written sources. The next step will consist of understanding other spaces that we will call “virtual” and about which nothing concrete is known of their true location, in spite of them representing important places in the central administration, such as the ḥijāba and the wizāra. Finally, in the last section of the chapter, we will set out some brief observations about the end of the Umayyad era and the transition to the first Taifas and the Almoravid and Almohad periods.

2

The City of Cordoba and the Places of Umayyad Political Power: Historiographical Notes

In the following lines, we will deal with some questions related to medieval Arabic documentation and works that we consider to be pioneering for understanding the topography of Umayyad power in the city of Cordoba. If we look at contributions from Arabic sources (chronicles, geographical texts, etc.) regarding the role of Qurṭuba as the political capital of the Umayyads, we can see that there is a considerable amount of data. However, information on the actual settings of the sites and buildings of Umayyad power is limited. This will be appreciated later when we look at these problems. In order to palliate this situation of relative penury, the historian can turn to the interesting contributions of archaeology and epigraphy. In recent years, archaeology has provided results period), 272–275 (caliphal period), and 275–280 (post-Umayyad period until the end of the Almohads). For a study on topography and constructions in Islamic Cordoba, see the chapter “The medina: the old city of Cordoba” by León Muñoz in this volume.

166

meouak

of a high quality, and this should be taken into account from a historiographic point of view. However, we repeat that in the case of the places where power was exercised and the actual location of the main administrative headquarters, things are not yet so clear. For this reason, the problem of trying to combine textual data with material results is complex and would require a special and lengthy discussion, which is impossible here. We will therefore limit ourselves to commenting on specific aspects of various publications based on Arabic sources and archaeology. These works have been chosen because of their pioneering nature and their impact on historiography. To start with, we turn to the remarkable text, al-Muqtabas, by a chronicler from Cordoba, Ibn Ḥayyān (d. 469/1076), to consider its importance within Umayyad historiography and, in particular, its contribution to our study. It is well-known that the Andalusi writer, who lived in the century during the Taifas, left us a text full of data and information about the Umayyad bayt of Cordoba. All volumes of his work published to date provide abundant data and reports about the emirate and caliphate. We find, for example, interesting information on the kingdoms of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii (d. 238/852), Muḥammad i (d. 273/886), al-Mundhir (d. 275/888), ʿAbd Allāh (d. 300/912), ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii (d. 350/961), al-Ḥakam ii (d. 366/976), and Hishām ii (d. after 399/ 1009). If we focus on the specific context of the places where power was exercised, we can confirm that data exists on the following places: alcazar (qaṣr), various gates (abwāb) that marked the limits of the city and, at the same time those of the alcazar, and some central administration buildings that appear under the names dār, bayt, or majlis, as well as the names of important administrative institutions such as the ḥijāba and the wizāra. Although it is true that Ibn Ḥayyān’s work provides a unique opportunity to reflect quite precisely on some essential departments of the Umayyad state, we should not lose sight of the fact that in certain cases, the problem of terminology is apparent, in particular due to the polysemy of the Arabic language. 2.1 Research Based on Written Documentation In 1925, Rafael Castejón published the monographic article “Córdoba califal.” This study undoubtedly marks a turning point in the first attempts to systemize the information on the topographical physiognomy of Umayyad Cordoba. In order to portray the city, Castejón used chronicles, geographical literature, and some archaeological data. Out of all the details provided, we highlight elements relating to the “almedina,” the neighborhoods, the bridges, the gates, the citadels, and some recreational areas.5 In our view, this text is a worthy start5 Castejón, Córdoba califal 258–329.

a city for muslim power

167

ing point, both in order to understand the basic urban aspects of the “Córdoba califal” and to gauge its value among the voluminous historiography dedicated to the city in the Islamic era, particularly in the Umayyad period. Seven years later, in 1932, L’Espagne musulmane au xème siècle. Institutions et vie sociale by Évariste Lévi-Provençal was published in France.6 For the first time, we find a study based on the compilation of abundant data on the Umayyad state of Cordoba and its most important institutions, of which many come from al-Muqtabas by Ibn Ḥayyān. Lévi-Provençal, in an effort to be as exhaustive as possible, has produced, in our view, a masterful work that combines the analysis of textual reports with data, albeit scarce, originating from archaeology. The book contains passages dedicated to the central administration, the main administrative sectors, and some pages on the framework of the Umayyad dynasty, its emblems, and sovereign insignia, as well as information on its ceremonies and moments in which the Umayyad state showed off its power to the outside world, as well as to various elements of the population, and even more so to demonstrate its strength to the Fatimids of Ifrīqiya. In short, this work is indispensable for initiating any study on Umayyad political power, its exercise, and the location of its most representative signs of identity.7 Over 30 years after the publication of the book by Lévi-Provençal, in 1965, Emilio García Gómez proposed a study of the main topographical features of Cordoba based on the “Anales palatinos del califa de Córdoba al-Hakam ii” by ʿĪsā b. Aḥmad b. Muḥammad b. Mūsā al-Rāzī (d. 368–369/980) contained in a volume of Ibn Ḥayyān’s al-Muqtabas.8 This study marks another milestone in our knowledge of the main topographical structures of Cordoba, in particular about the Umayyad alcazar and some sectors of the administration. In particular, García Gómez highlighted the following elements as an essential part of the architectural landscape of the capital of the Umayyads: the “quarters of the alcazar” (palaces, pavilions, chambers), the “gates of the alcazar,” various places designated by the terms dār and bayt, and the mosques, bazaars, cemeteries, etc. The amount of information of a topographical nature contained in this part of Ibn Ḥayyān’s al-Muqtabas undoubtedly constitutes an important base from which to better understand the organization of the palatial sites that served the Umayyad Caliphate in the development of its policies and its rules of government.9 6 7 8 9

Lévi-Provençal, L’Espagne musulmane 41–78. Lévi-Provençal, L’Espagne musulmane 79–114. García Gómez, Notas 319–320. García Gómez, Notas 320–378.

168

meouak

2.2 Hybrid Research: Alliance of Texts and Archaeology At the end of the 1990s, Manuel Acién Almansa and Antonio Vallejo Triano wrote a series of works on Cordoba and Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ fundamentally based on the compilation of historical data and archaeological materials.10 This research initiated a new era in our understanding of the Umayyad capital of al-Andalus. The aim was to cross-check various kinds of information, propose a detailed review of the data, and combine this with the results from various archaeological excavations that had been carried out. The results are of considerable importance and have obliged researchers to rethink their vision of the city of Cordoba, both in its form and design as well as in the details of its topography. However, it should not be forgotten that one of the studies published by the two researchers posed a complex question regarding the visible “topographical face” of Umayyad power and its affirmation as a solid political entity that was capable of challenging any other power (Christian kingdoms, the dynasties of the Western Maghrib, the Fatimid Caliphate of Ifrīqiya). We refer to the famous duality of Cordoba and Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ during the caliphal era, which, according to Acién Almansa and Vallejo Triano, functioned almost in conjunction. And in fact, these researchers referred to the functional duality as follows: Todo lleva a pensar que las dos ciudades actúan y funcionan todavía como un único centro urbano: el califa reparte su residencia por igual entre ambos núcleos y a cada acto de afirmación de la dinastía en Córdoba, como la ampliación de la mezquita aljama entre los años 961 y 971, sucede otro de igual intensidad en la zona de expansión occidental al trasladar ahí los escasos servicios del Estado que aún permanecían en Córdoba, como la Casa de las Acémilas y la Casa de Correos en el 973. En realidad, lo que se ha producido es un cierto reparto de papeles y funciones, políticas y religiosas, las primeras residenciadas en al-Zahrāʾ y las segundas en la vieja Córdoba, de forma que, a la muerte de al-Ḥakam ii, Córdoba tenía la mayor mezquita del Occidente islámico pero vaciada de servicios en beneficio de un territorio cada vez más cercano a los límites amurallados de Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ.11

10 11

Acién Almansa and Vallejo Triano, Urbanismo 107–134. Acién Almansa and Vallejo Triano, Urbanismo 134. The following English translation of the quotation is ours: “Everything points to the fact that the two cities act and still function as one single urban area: the caliph equally divided his place of residence between both areas and every act was an affirmation of the dynasty in Cordoba; as with the expansion of the ‘aljama’ mosque between the years 961 and 971, there was another of equal intens-

a city for muslim power

169

In 2000, the two abovementioned researchers provided a general study on Cordoba. Based on the examination of written documentation and archaeology, the most important places in the Umayyad city were identified in this work. The publication uncovers, among other aspects, data on urban morphology, its infrastructures, services, and urban authorities, as well as details on the administration of the city of Cordoba, its territory, and elements of religious and cultural topography.12 Four years later, in 2004, Juan F. Murillo Redondo, María T. Casal García, and Elena Castro del Río published an interesting work on the transformations experienced by the city of Cordoba from late antiquity up until the caliphal era in the light of results from archaeological excavations. Thanks to the materials that were dug up and the opportunity to get a more precise idea of the urban layout of Cordoba, we can better understand the beginnings and successive changes in the urban physiognomy of Cordoba and its immediate surroundings up until the caliphal period. Various topographical sectors were studied on the basis of archaeological findings, and these were complemented by the information obtained from the Arabic texts, which, in the words of the three researchers, “Convenientemente ‘calibrada’ con las fuentes escritas, permite una nueva comprensión de la génesis y primer desarrollo de Madinat Qurtuba.”13 Some years later, in 2013, Juan F. Murillo Redondo published a study on the origin and development of Cordoba as the capital of the Umayyads. In this work, a suggested starting point was the fact that the process of the construction, changes, and urban improvements of Cordoba were framed within a long and complex historical development, taking place over a large part of the Umayyad era, owing above all to the personal involvement of sovereigns, who we will call the “three” ʿAbd al-Raḥmāns (i, ii, and iii), in the building works.14

12 13

14

ity in the area of Western expansion, moving the few state services that still remained in Cordoba, such as the ‘house of the state stables’ and the ‘post office’ in 973. In reality, a certain distribution of roles and functions took place, both political and religious, the first residing in al-Zahrāʾ and the second in old Cordoba, in such a way that, upon the death of al-Ḥakam ii, Cordoba had the largest mosque in the Islamic West but emptied of services to the benefit of a territory increasingly close to the fortified limits of Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ.” Acién Almansa and Vallejo Triano, Cordoue 118–134. Murillo Redondo, Casal García, and Castro del Río, Madīnat Qurṭuba 257–258. The following English translation of the quotation is ours: “Conveniently ‘calibrated’ with written sources, it allows a new understanding of the genesis and first development of Madinat Qurtuba.” Murillo Redondo, Qurtuba califal 84–101.

170 3

meouak

Connecting Power with the City of Cordoba: Places and Spaces of the Umayyad Administration

Although it is true that certain modern research has indicated the name of some places pertaining to the central administration, it should be remembered that these references are scarce.15 Similarly, we should point out that various Arab writers have left us details on the city of Cordoba as the center of power and on some of its infrastructure.16 In the following lines, our intention is to mention some information in this regard. In order to do so, we start by focusing on the authors Aḥmad b. Muḥammad b. Mūsā al-Rāzī (d. 344/955), al-Idrīsī (d. 560/1165), and al-Ḥimyarī (d. 900/1494). This first author provided us with a portrayal of Cordoba titled Kitāb [ fī] Ṣifat al-Andalus (Book of the description of al-Andalus), which unfortunately has not reached the present day intact. In one part of his work, whose fragmented text Lévi-Provençal has attempted to reconstruct, Aḥmad b. Muḥammad b. Mūsā al-Rāzī says the following about Cordoba and its role as a seat of power: Cordoue a été la résidence des grands princes et la demeure des rois; de toutes parts, on y venait à bon escient. Cordoue possède en elle-même maints avantages. Jamais elle n’a été maltraitée par quelque guerre, car ceux qui la fondèrent l’établirent pour l’éternité et la dotèrent de tous les bienfaits. Elle a toujours été réputée, noble et belle, et elle possède de jolies maisons, avec de belles vues. […] Les murailles de l’Alcazar royal ont une largeur de 33.000 coudées; 3.000 coudées équivalant à un quart de lieue, ils ont donc un développement de deux lieues trois quarts. […] Cordoue a été dotée de nombreux ouvrages d’art, qui ont fait sa renommée. ʿUmar ibn ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz—que Dieu lui fasse miséricorde!—fit installer sur ce fleuve des moulins à manège qui moulent très bien et très fin; ces moulins sont face à la porte de l’Alcazaba, et ils sont si nombreux qu’ils cachent la vue du fleuve.17 15 16 17

See the studies of Murillo Redondo, and Acién Almansa and Vallejo Triano. See Meouak, Représentations 88–91. Al-Rāzī, Kitāb [ fī] Ṣifat al-Andalus 64, 65 (French translation). The following English translation of the quotation is ours: “Cordoba has been home to the great princes and the mansion of kings; they would come from all over and with good reason. Cordoba has hundreds of unique features in itself. It has never been mistreated by any war, since those who founded it consolidated it for eternity and endowed it with all possible benefits. It has always been very well-known, noble, and beautiful, and has beautiful houses, with beautiful views. […] The walls of the royal ‘alcázar’ are 33,000 cubits wide; 3,000 cubits is a quarter of a league, so it is two leagues and three quarters. […] Cordoba has been endowed

a city for muslim power

171

Over two centuries later, the geographer al-Idrīsī describes Cordoba. This author clearly considers it as the most important city in al-Andalus. Below, we set out a brief passage that illustrates the role Qurṭuba played as a political and religious capital: “And the city of Cordoba was the seat of power of the territories of al-Andalus and the ‘mother’ of its metropolises (wa-madīnat Qurṭuba qāʿidat bilād al-Andalus wa-umm muduni-hā); it was the headquarter of the Islamic caliphate (wa-dār al-khilāfa al-islāmiyya).”18 Finally, at the end of the 9th/15th century, the geographer al-Ḥimyarī talks of Cordoba, for the most part referring to previous writers. Right at the beginning of the text he dedicates to Cordoba, he comments that it was the seat of power of al-Andalus and the “mother” of its metropolises (Qurṭuba: qāʿidat alAndalus wa-umm madāʾini-hā); the permanent residence of the caliphate of the Umayyads was there (wa-mustaqarr khilāfat al-Umawiyyīn bi-hā).19 By reading the Arabic sources, the relative isolation of the topographical sites of Umayyad political power can be appreciated. The migration of the political center, often presented as a traditional fact in Arab cities, leads to the isolation of the spaces of power, which usually means they are moved to the outskirts of the city, and to the development of another city next to the “civil” city. The urban history of al-Andalus offers the opportunity to follow the various stages of migration, of which the most important segregation occurred in the 3rd/9th century. Until the beginning of the 4th/10th century, the Umayyad sovereign resided in the alcazar of Cordoba, which was a building intimately linked to the city. It was situated at the main axis of Cordoba, opposite the Great Mosque and close to the market; the palace opened out into the city by various gates, one of which had a terrace that was used as a tribune by the emir when he wanted to address the inhabitants of the city.20 The public used to frequent the fountain situated by the other gate, known as the “gate of justice,” and the Umayyad sovereign would sit there every Friday to listen to the grievances of his subjects. The construction of the palatial city of Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, starting in 325/936, undoubtedly marked the first step towards isolating the spaces of power. Situated a few kilometers outside Cordoba, this new city was to house the residence of the caliph, though always alternating with the old alcazar of Cordoba.21

18 19 20 21

with numerous works of art that have caused its rise in fame. ʿUmar b. ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz—may God have mercy on him!—had waterwheel mills built on this river, which grind very well and very finely; these mills are situated in front of the gate of the ‘alcazaba,’ and there are so many that they hide the view of the river.” Al-Idrīsī, Nuzhat al-mushtāq 574. Al-Ḥimyarī, al-Rawḍ al-miʿṭār 456. Some details are provided in Lévi-Provençal, L’Espagne musulmane 41–78. About this city, see Castejón, Córdoba califal 322–323; Vallejo Triano, La ciudad califal

172

meouak

As is well-known, the alcazar of the Umayyads, which consisted of a set of administrative buildings, was situated in the southern part of the city, to the west of the mosque. For the most part, it corresponds mainly to the current Palacio episcopal and the Campo Santos de los Mártires. The old palace of the Visigoths, which had previously served as a residence for the first wulāt (governors; sing. wālī), was converted into an alcazar for the Umayyads by the first of them, ʿAbd al-Raḥmān i (d. 172/788), and experienced various transformations and enlargements during the emirate era. It then ceased being the permanent seat of power of the caliphs when ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii and al-Ḥakam ii moved the bureaucratic services of the state to Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, and then later alManṣūr Muḥammad b. Abī ʿĀmir, or Almanzor (d. 392/1002), moved it to to al-Madīna al-Zāhira.22 3.1 The Sovereign, Architect, and Builder Although it is true that the main topographical sectors of the administration in Cordoba, as well as its services, experienced substantial changes during the Umayyad period, it is undisputed that it was the sovereign who was, for the most part, responsible for them, as he often participated in the design of the city itself. Architecture is undoubtedly a public demonstration of power for governors—a genuine exercise in sovereignty. It is clear from the historical and geographical sources, as well as the epigraphy, how the role of the Umayyads of Cordoba as promotors of construction is highlighted23 The exercise of an activity such as architecture was considered a virtue and a sign of prestige for emirs and caliphs in the medieval Islamic world; of virtue because it was dedicated to God and Islam in such a way that it possessed an almost sacred character, and of prestige because the buildings were a manifestation of their real power. Regarding this latter point, we should remember the words of Paul Veyne, a well-known authority on the history of the Roman world, when he alludes to the “Column of Trajan” as clear evidence of the power of Rome, making any other display of such power unnecessary. The French expert on Roman history states that “La colonne Trajane n’est pas de la propagande parce qu’elle ne daigne même pas convaincre: elle rappelle par sa seule prés-

22 23

63–80; Vallejo Triano, Madinat al-Zahra 122–133; and Vallejo Triano’s chapter in this volume; Cardoso, The scenography of power 391–395, on the ceremonial of the Umayyads at Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ. Some elements in Castejón, Córdoba califal 279–280; Murillo Redondo, Qurtuba califal 89–97; and Acién Almansa and Vallejo Triano, Cordoue 125–127. Juez Juarros, Símbolos de poder 49–51; see also the chapter on epigraphy in al-Andalus by Martínez Núñez in this volume.

a city for muslim power

173

ence qu’un empereur est au pouvoir et qu’il faut lui obéir parce qu’il faut lui obéir. […] Le roi est tout simplement un être qui est de plus haute taille que les autres hommes; tout le reste est secondaire.”24 Thus, by creating a building in this way, the sovereign contributes not only to his own greatness, but through his labor as builder, he also reinforces the idea that he is acting in the service of Islam. In spite of the above, we should point out that not all political powers that existed during the history of al-Andalus manifested the same building capacity. Although the nature of the state may have been the same, it is true that the differences were quite considerable in regard to their character, symbols, architectural expressions, and their political reality.25 Thanks to the Arabic texts, we know that the conditions necessary to promote and implement a state building program only existed during limited occasions. It was mainly in times of unchallenged sovereignty that architectural ostentation achieved its most outstanding manifestations: the Umayyad Caliphate, the Almohad Caliphate, and the Nasrid Sultanate. The other rulers had to make do with more modest actions at lower budgets.26 As an example, ʿAbd al-Raḥmān i participated in the planning of the original great mosque of Cordoba, a building of symbolic magnitude for the Umayyad regime in its beginnings, and also in the building of the “almunia” (Arabic munya, pl. munā) of al-Ruṣāfa, to the northeast of the Umayyad capital. Emir Hishām i (d. 180/796), for his part, personally took on the responsibility of inspecting and directing the remodeling of the bridge of Cordoba.27 Regarding ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii, his great interest in architecture was renowned, and we know that he personally supervised various public works, such as the paving of the road that connected Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ to the “almunia” of alNāʿūra. Regarding the activity of the latter, some other examples of his personal intervention follow. In 300/913, he ordered the construction of “internal gates” within the city of Cordoba (li-abwāb al-madīna bi-Qurṭuba) corresponding to the external gates; these gates were defended by “gatekeepers” (bawwābūn). 24

25 26 27

Veyne, Propagande expression roi 22 and 23. The following English translation of the quotation is ours: “Trajan’s Column was not meant for propaganda, since it does not even deign to convince; it reminds us by its mere presence that an emperor holds power and that we must obey him simply because we must obey him. […] The king is simply a being who is higher than other men; the rest are secondary.” For instance, on some aspects of the Umayyad ceremonial, see Fierro, Pompa y ceremonia en los califatos del Occidente islámico 132–134. Souto, Building (in) Umayyad al-Andalus 27–34. About these topics, see Castejón, Córdoba califal 319–322; Murillo et al., La almunia 565– 586.

174

meouak

According to reports, this was something that had never been done before and was an excellent innovation.28 Later, in 305/918, he ordered the old prayer room miḥrāb in the muṣāra of Cordoba to be restored, as it was in ruins. This restoration was done with ashlars. He also ordered the construction of a basin for the “fountain” ( fawwāra) between the “corner of the alcazar” (rukn al-qaṣr) and the “lattice gate” (Bāb al-mushabbak).29 In 306/919, he ordered the construction of a “fountain” ( fawwāra) next to the “gate of the alcazar in Cordoba” (Bāb al-qaṣr bi-Qurṭuba).30 On the other hand, we know that the future caliph, al-Ḥakam ii, supervised the construction of Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ and continued to do so even after coming to the throne. He was also directly involved in the enlargement of the mosque of Cordoba. In fact, Arabic historiography indicates that caliph al-Ḥakam ii personally inspected the remodeling work on the Roman bridge in the city of Cordoba.31 3.2

Terminology and Contexts: The Words Dār, Qaṣr, and Bāb in Arabic Sources To try to capture as best we can the meanings of the vocabulary used by the Arabic sources regarding the topography of the places of power, we consider it worthwhile to pause briefly on some specific words. These terms reflect not only various circumstances closely linked to the topographic reality but also concepts that the writers had of each place described. As well as providing a draft of definitions, we will try to see what some Arab authors, such as Ibn Ḥayyān, suggest. First, we will discuss the term dār: it mainly covers the meanings of “house,” “residence,” or “mansion,” and in particular, it refers to the function of a building as somewhere to live. It could therefore refer to a kind of pavilion for temporary accommodation, to a small house, or sometimes to a larger palace, or even to a residence within a palace, and in some cases to an “almunia.”32 However, in the political and administrative ambit, dār also describes a construction in which a state service, government department, or administrative office is housed. In these cases it could also refer to a building used for official receptions. Regard-

28 29 30 31 32

Crónica anónima 48/114. Crónica anónima 57/126. Crónica anónima 59/130; Ibn ʿIdhārī, al-Bayān al-mughrib ii, 182. Around these questions, see the studies of Souto, Juez Juarros, and Murillo Redondo. About the Arabic word munya and the “almunias” of Cordoba’s area, see Murillo et al., La almunia 569–570; Anderson, Villa (munya) architecture 54–69; López Cuevas, La almunia 246–252.

a city for muslim power

175

ing the above, it is useful to remember the words of García Gómez about this meaning, as well as that of bayt, within the framework of the topography of Cordoba in the 4th/10th century: Dār, que ordinariamente significa “casa”, y bayt, que ordinariamente significa “casa” o “cuarto, habitación”, tienen con frecuencia en los Anales, además de ese sentido material, otro figurado: el del “local donde está instalado un determinado servicio” (recuérdense nuestras expresiones “casa civil” o “casa militar”, refiriéndose a la secretaría y séquito del Jefe de Estado). Dār al-rujām (= Casa del mármol) puede ser el nombre de un edificio o pabellón; pero Dār al-wuzarāʾ (= Casa de los visires) no alude a un edificio, sino a la oficina de los visires, a los despachos de los ministros que diríamos ahora. Dār al-awlād (= Casa de los infantes) puede ser más equívoco, y significar, bien un edificio en que residían los infantes, bien el conjunto de los aposentos de los infantes, aunque no constituyesen edificio aislado.33 Dār in some written sources: in al-Andalus, starting in the Umayyad period, the word dār had multiple meanings, as the residence of the sovereign, administrative headquarters of the palace, or even a courtroom, and perhaps as a substitution for the term majlis (pl. majālis; i.e., “chamber,” “hall”).34 We should first highlight that in the Umayyad period, dār always designated rooms or buildings included in large developments, but never palace complexes. After checking Ibn Ḥayyān’s al-Muqtabas in detail, we found information on places belonging to the administration whose names begin with dār, which we set out below.35 First, let us look at an outbuilding in the alcazar of Cordoba that

33

34 35

García Gómez, Notas 327. The following English translation of the quotation is ours: “Dār, which ordinarily means ‘house,’ and bayt, which ordinarily means ‘penates’ or ‘room,’ in the Annals often have, in addition to that material sense, another figurative one: that of ‘the place where a certain service is installed’ (remember our expressions ‘civil house’ or ‘military house,’ referring to the secretariat and entourage of the head of state). Dār al-rukhām (= ‘house of marble’) may be the name of a building or a pavilion; but Dār alwuzarāʾ (= ‘house of the viziers’) does not refer to a building but to the office of the viziers, to the offices of the ministers, which is what we would call it today. Dār al-awlād (= ‘house of the infants’) may be more misleading and mean either a building in which the infants resided or the whole of the infants’ quarters, even if they did not constitute an isolated building.” See the recent study of Anderson, Aristocratic residences 239–245, on the majālis in Umayyad Cordoba. Some details in Juez Juarros, Símbolos de poder 220–222.

176

meouak

was named dār al-rawḍa (mansion of recreation),36 a building that may have served as an audience chamber for the sovereign. The residential meaning seems clearer in the case of dār al-awlād (residence of the princes),37 unquestionably the home of the sovereign’s children, whether as a house or residence within the alcazar. Other Umayyad administrative buildings had names such as dār al-rahn (residence of the hostage),38 dār al-zawāmil (office of the state stables),39 and dār al-ṣadaqa (office of religious alms).40 Another emblematic place in the Umayyad administration is the dār al-ṭirāz (house of the embroidered textiles),41 which had an important role, relating in particular to receiving ambassadors and delegations who visited Cordoba, as well as to gifts (dresses and tunics) presented to visitors and high-ranking state officials.42 Within an institutional setting, it is worth pointing out that there were several other places designated with the term dār. Here is a list based mainly on the chronicle of Ibn Ḥayyān: dār al-burud allatī bi-gharbī qaṣr Qurṭuba (post office situated in the western part of the alcazar of Cordoba);43 and dār al-burud and al-dār al-burudiyya (post office);44 dār al-mulk (headquarter of power);45 dār al-khilāfa (headquarter of the caliphate);46 dār al-ḍarb (factory of the coins); and dār al-sikka dākhil madīnat Qurṭuba (headquarter of the mint coins inside the city of Cordoba).47 We also found other buildings not so closely related to the Umayyad administrative institutions but possibly connected to sovereign power: dār al-Madaniyyāt fī l-qaṣr (residence of the girls of Medina in the alcazar),48 the mansion 36 37 38 39 40 41

42 43 44 45 46 47 48

Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabas vii, 229; trans., Anales palatinos 272. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabas vii, 217; trans., Anales palatinos 257. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabas vii, 176; trans., Anales palatinos 214. See García Gómez, Notas 364. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabas vii, 66; trans., Anales palatinos 87. See García Gómez, Notas 365. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabas vii, 19; trans., Anales palatinos 43. See Castejón, Córdoba califal 281, “casa de la limosna”; and García Gómez, Notas 365. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabas vii, 92; trans., Anales palatinos 115. About the dār al-ṭirāz in the medieval Arabic sources and the hypothetical archaeological remains of this place, see Arjona Castro and Marfil Ruiz, Posible localización 138–139, 141–143. See García Gómez, Notas 366–367. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabas vii, 66; trans., Anales palatinos 87. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabas v, 383; trans., Crónica del califa 286. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabas v, 18; trans., Crónica del califa 24; Ibn ʿIdhārī, al-Bayān al-mughrib ii, 122. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabas v, 55; trans., Crónica del califa 52. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabas v, 243; trans., Crónica del califa 185. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabas ii, 306. This information seems to refer to the women who have been trained in singing and composing poetry.

a city for muslim power

177

of emir ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii where the singers of Medina were accommodated and which was included in the qaṣr of Cordoba. There also existed a dār alḥaṣā (place of the little stones)49 (jail in the alcazar?), and even a dār al-surūr min qaṣr al-khilāfa (residence of joy in the alcazar of the caliphate).50 About the term qaṣr (pl. quṣūr): this is undeniably one of the most characteristic words in the topographical landscape of Cordoba in the Umayyad period. It comes from the Latin word castrum and is the origin of the Spanish word “alcázar.” According to its Latin etymology, in al-Andalus the term was applied to the fortified palatial complexes, such as the alcazar of Cordoba. In some specific cases, qaṣr could mean a construction included within another context of a larger size, which corresponded to the court sector of the city or a palatial compound. In general, this building constituted a relatively autonomous unit within the main complex, with good defenses. In any event, we can say that the quṣūr documented in the sources were either property of the sovereign and his mustakhlaṣ or home to the provincial governors. They had court connotations, as opposed to constructions labeled with other terms that did not necessarily have such associations. It is important to remember that not all of the sovereign’s palaces were known by the term qaṣr, for the simple reason that different words were preferred to highlight other aspects or functions of the building.51 During the Umayyad reign in al-Andalus, the palaces, official areas within the palatial cities of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii and Almanzor, the “almunias” of the Cordoba region, and the alcazares of the provinces all often used the term qaṣr. This governmental grouping, both central and provincial, also indicates that any palatial buildings with walled grounds and used by the Umayyad power were designated by the word qaṣr.52 Qaṣr in some Arabic texts: the use of this term in Arabic documentation is relatively common. We will give just a few specific examples from the 3rd/9th and 4th/10th centuries: qaṣr madīnat Qurṭuba (alcazar of the city of Cordoba);53 al-qaṣr bi-Qurṭuba (the alcazar in Cordoba);54 the term found in the phrase fa-dakhala qaṣra-hu bi-Qurṭuba (he entered in his alcazar in Cordo-

49 50 51 52 53 54

Castejón, Córdoba califal 281, translates it as “el empedrado” (in English “the paved”). Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabas ii, 372 and 375. Some elements in Juez Juarros, Símbolos de poder 202–204. Juez Juarros, Símbolos de poder 205–206. Al-Ḥimyarī, al-Rawḍ al-miʿṭār 458. Crónica anónima 59/130.

178

meouak

ba);55 qaṣr al-khilāfa (alcazar of the caliphate);56 qaṣr sulṭāni-hā (alcazar of its ruler) (= ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii);57 qaṣr Qurṭuba (alcazar of Cordoba).58 The alcazar as the seat of political power has been the subject of a large number of archaeological and architectural studies. It is not our intention here to go over such a complex and voluminous dossier, but we will pause to consider some specific aspects that are linked to power and its exercise. It can be said that this architectural group formed a veritable city surrounded by walls. A whole world of civil servants, slaves, and eunuchs circulated in its corridors, within authorized parts.59 Towards the outer part of the city were the royal chambers, with some gardens, whose memory has been perpetuated by the current name Huerta del Rey. From the palace grounds, the road (raṣīf ) was dominant, running next to the right-hand banks of the Guadalquivir. There were seven city gates (maybe six?) that opened into the suburbs according to Andalusi writers such as al-ʿUdhrī (d. 477/1085) and Ibn Bashkuwāl (d. 578/1183).60 The main gate, known as such due to its relationship to the exercise of Umayyad power through its central administration, was called Bāb al-sudda and opened onto the main street. It is there, for example, that the corpses of convicts were exhibited prior to throwing them into the river.61 The gates of the alcazar: we should remember that the main functions of the gates were to monitor the comings and goings of individuals in strategic areas of the city, such as the alcazar itself, and to a certain extent to control the movement of people around the seats of power, administration, and private areas.62 The abwāb (sing. Bāb) in textual documentation: regarding Bāb al-sudda as the headquarters of the main organs of government, several references can be found in the Arabic sources. For example, in the era of emir ʿAbd Allāh, this is referred to as Bāb al-sudda (gate of the azuda).63 Later, during the reign of

55 56 57 58 59

60 61 62 63

Crónica anónima 39/102. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabas ii, 294; Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabis iii, 3; Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabas v, 16; trans., Crónica del califa 22. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabas v, 15; trans., Crónica del califa 21. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabas vii, 228 and 229; trans., Anales palatinos 269 and 271. About the role of the political staff of the Umayyad state of Cordoba, see Meouak, Prosopography of the political elites 175–178; Meouak, Pouvoir souverain 74–227; Meouak, Ṣaqāliba, eunuques et esclaves 159–207. Zanón, Topografía de Córdoba 41–43. Torres Balbás, Bāb al-sudda 167–169, whose meanings could be “small dam,” “barrier,” “wall,” etc. Ocaña Jiménez, Las puertas; and Murillo Redondo, Qurtuba califal passim. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabis iii, 19 and 130.

a city for muslim power

179

ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii, it is called Bāb suddat al-sulṭān bi-Qurṭuba (gate of the azuda of the sultan in Cordoba).64 Finally, under the mandate of al-Ḥakam ii, the expressions Bāb al-sudda and Bāb al-sudda min qaṣr Qurṭuba (gate of the azuda of the alcazar of Cordoba)65 are used. Furthermore, during the second Umayyad caliphate, Ibn Ḥayyān mentions Bābay al-jinān wa-l-sudda (two gates of the gardens and the azuda).66 The Arabic documentation offers the names of gates that were more or less connected to the places where power was exercised. Here are some examples: Bāb al-ʿadl (gate of justice) and Bāb al-qaṣr al-musammā Bāb al-ʿadl (gate of the alcazar called gate of justice),67 this gate opened onto the grand bridge street, at the point where the covered passage constructed by emir ʿAbd Allāh led to the mosque; Bāb al-jinān (gate of the gardens) and Bāb al-jinān min qaṣr Qurṭuba (gate of the gardens of the alcazar of Cordoba);68 Bāb al-jadīd al-qiblī (meridional new gate).69 To the brief list above we should add six gates of the alcazar of Cordoba listed by al-ʿUdhrī: Bāb al-sudda (gate of the azuda); Bāb al-jinān (gate of the garden); Bāb al-ʿadl (gate of justice); [Bāb al-ṣi]nāʿah (gate of the workshops); Bāb almulk wa-huwa dākhil al-madīna (gate of the power situated inside the city); and Bāb al-sābāṭ wa-huwa fī l-masjid al-jāmiʿ (gate of the covered passageway situated in the great mosque).70 For the period of emir ʿAbd Allāh, we would point out a Bāb al-qanṭara (gate of the bridge)71 and a Bāb ʿAbd al-Jabbār al-Maṭmūs min abwāb al-madīna (gate of ʿAbd al-Jabbār al-Maṭmūs among the gates of the city).72

64

65 66 67 68 69

70 71 72

Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabas v, 72; trans., Crónica del califa 65. Note that the lexeme sulṭān can also have the meanings of “power” and “authority,” like in Ibn Ḥayyān (al-Muqtabis iii, 93), in which we find the expression ḥaḍrat al-sulṭān (seat of the power). Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabas vii, 45, 65, 78, 233, 239; trans., Anales palatinos 65, 78, 101, 275, 281. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabas vii, 228; trans., Anales palatinos 269. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabis iii, 25, 34, 37. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabas vii, 153, 202; trans., Anales palatinos 194, 242. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabas vii, 213; trans., Anales palatinos 253 (the Spanish translation gives: “Puerta de Hierro, [situada] al mediodía”; Arabic text: Bāb al-ḥadīd al-qiblī; and English translation: “Iron gate [located] at the noon/south”). Al-ʿUdhrī, Nuṣūṣ ʿan al-Andalus 123. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabis iii, 37. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabis iii, 38. See Lévi-Provençal, L’Espagne musulmane 223–224. Note that we were unable to find information on ʿAbd al-Jabbār al-Maṭmūs.

180 4

meouak

“Virtual Places” of the Central Administration of the Umayyads of Cordoba

As indicated at the outset, we are now going to look at two key institutions in the Umayyad state administration of Cordoba. The ḥijāba (chancery) and the vizierate are well documented in the Arabic sources. However, we do not know precisely where they were located in Cordoba. This is why we have chosen to talk of “virtual places” corresponding to these two central features in the Umayyad governmental apparatus, which were probably found in the buildings at the “gate of the azuda” of the alcazar of Cordoba.73 The ḥijāba: throughout the Umayyad period, the ḥājib (pl. ḥujjāb) was the highest-ranking civil official in the state administration, due not only to his status but also to his power.74 Although the wazīr in the empire of the first Abbasids was the direct advisor to the sovereign, in Umayyad al-Andalus, it was the ḥājib who was really responsible for providing support to the Umayyads. The person holding the position of ḥājib belonged to the political and administrative elite and carried out his duties in the headquarters of the ḥijāba. However, nothing certain is known of the exact location of this administrative department even today, but we can guess that it would have been close to the private quarters of the Umayyad rulers.75 In addition to the frequent appearance of the term ḥijāba, and of the person responsible for this (ḥājib),76 we found the expression ḥijābat al-awlād (administration responsible for the care of the sovereign’s children) mentioned in a text written by Ibn al-Abbār (d. 658/1260) during the childhood of the future al-Ḥakam ii.77 The wizāra: although it is true that holding the position of wazīr (pl. wuzarāʾ) meant a specific function in the governmental structures of most of the states in the premodern Islamic world, it should be remembered that in Umayyad alAndalus, this post was different. Indeed, in light of the Arabic documentation, it is known that the high-ranking civil servant known as wazīr was really an honorary title. At the same time, it must be remembered that the Abbasid vizier was the real right hand of the caliph in regard to administration.78 Without going into the details provided by the Arabic sources, we can say that the main

73 74 75 76 77 78

Torres Balbás, Bāb al-sudda 170–171. Meouak, Histoire de la ḥiǧāba et des ḥuǧǧāb 155–157. Meouak, Pouvoir souverain 63–68. Lévi-Provençal, L’Espagne musulmane 63–66; Vallvé Bermejo, Al-Andalus 233–235. Ibn al-Abbār, al-Ḥulla i, 146. Meouak, Notes sur le vizirat 181–185.

a city for muslim power

181

responsibilities of the vizier in the Umayyad period were to “advise” the sovereign, thus acting as a kind of close “collaborator” with the Umayyad power. In this case, too, we found a significant number of details in the Arabic texts about the various viziers who bore this title. In spite of the textual data available on the individuals appointed to the rank of vizier, nothing is known of the exact location of the wizāra. Its headquarters was probably situated somewhere in the Bāb al-sudda and may even have been close to the private quarters used by the Umayyads.79 There are numerous references to the honorific title of wazīr in Western Arabic documentation.80 Here we will mention some examples that provide information on places: Bāb al-wuzarāʾ (gate of the viziers);81 bayt al-wuzarāʾ fī qaṣri-hi alladhī huwa muʿān al-ʿizza (headquarters of the viziers in his alcazar, which was the mansion of glory),82 given its context, it is likely that it referred to the alcazar of Cordoba, but this should be treated with caution; bayt al-wuzarāʾ (headquarter of the viziers);83 dār al-wuzarāʾ (office of the viziers) and bayt alwizāra (headquarter of the vizierate).84

5

End of an Era and Transition towards the mulūk al-ṭawāʾif (Party Kings), Almoravid Kingdom, and Almohad Caliphate

The Umayyad period in Cordoba took some time to disappear altogether if we take into account the period of the ʿĀmirid lords led by Almanzor.85 The latter invested time and energy in preparing for his arrival to power, and making the most of the clearly weak political circumstances that arose between the end of the caliphate of al-Ḥakam ii and the period when Hishām ii was a minor, he managed to impose a strong regime designed to his own ends. Regarding the subject considered in this chapter, it is worth remembering that after his usurpation of power, Almanzor ordered the construction of the new palatial city of al-Madīna al-Zāhira to the east of Qurṭuba. This new residence played a role 79 80 81 82 83 84 85

Meouak, Pouvoir souverain 58–63. Lévi-Provençal, L’Espagne musulmane 66–68; Vallvé Bermejo, Al-Andalus 229–232. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabis iii, 36. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabas vii, 219; trans., Anales palatinos 259. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabas v, 97; trans., Crónica del califa 84; Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabas vii, 220; trans., Anales palatinos 260. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabas vii, 230; trans., Anales palatinos 273. For a detailed description of the dār al-wuzarāʾ, see Marfil Ruiz, La puerta de los visires 21–24, 25–30. About the ʿĀmirids, see for instance Bariani, Almanzor 121–192; and on the biography of Almanzor, de la Puente, La caracterización de Almanzor 374–382.

182

meouak

in the urban development of the land situated in the easternmost suburbs of Qurṭuba. In light of recent research, it would appear that the ʿĀmirid foundation managed to generate a kind of magnetic attraction, which gave rise to the construction of residences for the elite linked to the ʿĀmirid regime.86 From the beginning of the 3rd/9th century, and after the agonizing period of the fitna, Cordoba continued as the political capital of the ṭāʾifa (“party”) of the banū Jahwar, whose links to the Umayyad state were well-known. This family had maintained some kind of relationship with another important bayt of high-ranking civil servants in the service of the Umayyads of Cordoba, the banū Abī ʿAbda, flagship of the central administration of the Umayyads.87 In the Almoravid era, the city of Cordoba appears to have been the center of regional power. During the Almohad period, the Arabic sources continued to refer to the use of the old alcazar of Cordoba and that it was a building belonging to the political powers. It seems that the Almohad ruler Abū Yaʿqūb Yūsuf (d. 580/1184), who was on his way from Seville to Huete on a military campaign (567/1172), camped in the faḥṣ al-surādiq (plain of the royal camp) on the outskirts of Cordoba. Afterwards, he entered the “old alcazar of Cordoba” (qaṣr Qurṭuba al-ʿatīq), where he organized preparations for the expedition.88 In addition to the brief references in the previous paragraph, it is worth pointing out a transcendental event in Almohad politics. We are referring to the decision of the Almohad caliph ʿAbd al-Muʾmin (d. 558/1163) to move the central services of the government and administration, which until then had been established in Seville, to the city of Cordoba. This decision may be explained by various reasons, such as the idea of bringing the central headquarters of Almohad power in al-Andalus closer to the eastern region, which was going to be the main center of the military operations planned to facilitate the conquest of territories under the rule of Ibn Mardanīsh (near 567/1172). However, the chronicle by Ibn Ṣāḥib al-Ṣalāt (d. after 600/1203), which talks about the caliphal decision, also alludes to ideological and historical reasons, such as the memory of the previous prestige of Cordoba as the capital of the caliphate.89 In any event, this decision was short-lived since, owing to changes in the leadership of the Almohad state in Marrakesh, Seville once again became the political

86 87 88 89

On al-Madīna al-Zāhira, see Bariani, Almanzor 109–112, 159–160, 211–212; and Murillo Redondo, Qurtuba califal 101. About the banū Abī ʿAbda and the banū Jahwar who served the Umayyad state of Cordoba, see Meouak, Pouvoir souverain 77–99, 99–106. Ibn Ṣāḥib al-Ṣalāt, al-Mann bi-l-imāma 205. See Zanón, Topografía de Córdoba 76–77. Ibn Ṣāḥib al-Ṣalāt, al-Mann bi-l-imāma 48–51.

a city for muslim power

183

and administrative center and remained as such until the definitive fall of the Almohad regime in the first third of the 7th/13th century. This regime was constituted of two historically distinct entities, albeit united by a political point of view: the Western Maghrib and al-Andalus, each with their own capital.

Bibliography Primary Sources Aḥmad al-Rāzī, Kitāb [ fī] Ṣifat al-Andalus, in É. Lévi-Provençal, La ‘Description de l’Espagne’ d’Aḥmad al-Rāzī. Essai de reconstitution de l’original arabe et traduction française, in Al-Andalus 18 (1953), 51–108. al-Ḥimyarī, al-Rawḍ al-miʿṭār fī khabar al-aqṭār, ed. I. ʿAbbās, Beirut 1984. Ibn al-Abbār, Kitāb al-Ḥulla al-siyarāʾ, ed. Ḥ. Muʾnis, 2 vols., Cairo 1963. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Qism al-thālith min kitāb al-muqtabis fī taʾrīkh rijāl al-Andalus, ed. M.M. Antuña, vol. 3, Paris 1937. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabas fī akhbār balad al-Andalus, ed. ʿA. al-R. ʿA. al-Ḥajjī, vol. 7, Beirut 1965. Ibn Ḥayyān, Anales palatinos del califa de Córdoba al-Hakam ii, por ʿĪsā ibn Ahmad alRāzī (360–364 H. = 971–975 J.C.), trans. E. García Gómez, Madrid 1967. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabas v, eds. P. Chalmeta, F. Corriente and M. Sobh, vol. 5, Madrid 1979. Ibn Ḥayyān, Crónica del califa ʿAbdarraḥmān iii an-Nāṣir entre los años 912 y 942 (alMuqtabis v), trans. Mª. J. Viguera and F. Corriente, Zaragoza 1981. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Sifr al-thānī min kitāb al-muqtabas li-Ibn Ḥayyān al-Qurṭubī, ed. M.ʿA. Makkī, vol. 2, Riyad 2003. Ibn ʿIdhārī, al-Bayān al-mughrib fī akhbār al-Andalus wa-l-Maghrib, eds. G.S. Colin and É. Lévi-Provençal, vol. 2, Leiden 1948–1951. Ibn Ṣāḥib al-Ṣalāt, al-Mann bi-l-imāma, trans. A. Huici Miranda, Valencia 1969. al-Idrīsī, Nuzhat al-mushtāq fī ikhtirāq al-āfāq, ed. E. Cerulli et al., Napoli and Roma 1970–1984. al-ʿUdhrī, Nuṣūṣ ʿan al-Andalus min kitāb tarṣīʿ al-akhbār wa-tanwīʿ al-āthār wa-l-bustān fī gharāʾib al-buldān wa-l-masālik ilā jamīʿ al-mamālik, ed. ʿA. al-ʿA. al-Ahwānī, Madrid 1965. Una Crónica anónima de ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii al-Nāṣir, eds. and trans. É. Lévi-Provençal and E. García Gómez, Madrid and Granada 1950. al-Zuhrī, Kitāb al-Jaʿrāfiya, ed. M. Ḥājj Ṣādiq, Cairo s.d.

184

meouak

Secondary Sources Acién Almansa, M., and A. Vallejo Triano, Urbanismo y estado islámico: de Corduba a Qurṭuba—Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, in P. Cressier and M. García-Arenal (eds.), Genèse de la ville islamique en al-Andalus et au Maghreb occidental, Madrid 1998, 107–136. Acién Almansa, M., and A. Vallejo Triano, Cordoue, in J.-Cl. Garcin (dir.), Grandes villes méditerranéennes du monde musulman médiéval, Rome 2000, 117–134. Anderson, G.D., Villa (munya) architecture in Umayyad Córdoba: Preliminary considerations, in G.D. Anderson and M. Rosser-Owen (eds.), Revisiting Al-Andalus: Perspectives on the material culture of Islamic Iberia and beyond, Leiden and Boston 2007, 53–79. Anderson, G.D., Aristocratic residences and the majlis in Umayyad Córdoba, in M. Fishkopf and F. Spinetto (eds.), Music, sound, and architecture in Islam, Austin 2018, 228–254. Arjona Castro, A., and P. Marfil Ruiz, Posible localización de los restos arqueológicos del dār al-tirāz (Casa del tiráz) en la Córdoba musulmana, in Boletín de la Real Academia de Ciencias, Bellas Letras y Nobles Artes de Córdoba 83 (2004), 137–146. Ballestín, X., Centralization and consolidation. The Cordoban Umayyads and the Amirids, in M. Fierro (ed.), The Routledge handbook of Muslim Iberia, London and New York 2020, 37–63. Bariani, L., Almanzor, San Sebastián 2003. Cardoso, E., The scenography of power in Al-Andalus and the ʿAbbasid and Byzantine ceremonials. Christian ambassadorial receptions in the court of Cordoba in a comparative perspective, in Medieval Encounters 24 (2018), 390–434. Castejón, R., Córdoba califal, in Boletín de la Real Academia de Ciencias, Bellas Letras y Nobles Artes de Córdoba 8 (1929), 255–339. Fierro, M., Pompa y ceremonia en los califatos del Occidente islámico (s. ii/viii–ix/xv), in Cuadernos del CEMyR 17 (2009), 125–152. García Gómez, E., Notas sobre la topografía cordobesa en los ‘Anales de al-Ḥakam ii’ por ʿĪsà al-Rāzī, in Al-Andalus 30 (1965), 319–379. Juez Juarros, F., Símbolos de poder en la arquitectura de Al-Andalus, PhD diss., vol. 1, Madrid 1999. León Muñoz, A., E. León Pastor, and J.F. Murillo Redondo, El Guadalquivir y las fortificaciones urbanas de Córdoba, in F. Amores Carredano and E.L. Domínguez Berenjeno (eds.), Actas 4 ̊ Congreso internacional sobre fortificaciones. “Las Fortificaciones y el mar” (Alcalá de Guadaíra, 2007), Alcalá de Guadaíra 2008, 261–290. Lévi-Provençal, É., L’Espagne musulmane au xème siècle. Institutions et vie sociale, Paris 1932. López Cuevas, F., La almunia cordobesa, entre las fuentes historiográficas y arqueológicas, in Revista Onoba 1 (2013), 243–260. Marfil Ruiz, P., La puerta de los visires de la mezquita omeya de Córdoba, vol. 1, n.p. 2009.

a city for muslim power

185

Meouak, M., Notes sur le vizirat et les vizirs en al-Andalus à l’époque umayyade (milieu du iie/viiie–fin du ive/xe siècles), in si 78 (1993), 181–190. Meouak, M., Histoire de la ḥiǧāba et des ḥuǧǧāb en al-Andalus umayyade (2e/viiie– 4e/xe siècles), in Orientalia Suecana 43–44 (1994–1995), 155–164. Meouak, M., Représentations, emblèmes et signes de la souveraineté politique des Umayyades d’al-Andalus d’après les textes arabes, in Acta Orientalia 56 (1995), 78– 105. Meouak, M., Pouvoir souverain, administration centrale et élites politiques dans l’Espagne umayyade (iie–ive/viiie–xe siècles), Helsinki 1999. Meouak, M., Prosopography of the political elites and the sociography of the Umayyad state of Cordoba, in Medieval Prosopography 23 (2002), 167–184. Meouak, M., Ṣaqāliba, eunuques et esclaves à la conquête du pouvoir. Géographie et histoire des élites politiques “marginales” dans l’Espagne umayyade, Helsinki 2004. Meouak, M., Le mulk dans tous ses états. Remarques sur la notion de pouvoir chez les Umayyades d’al-Andalus, in Orientalia Suecana 56 (2007), 173–180. Murillo Redondo, J.F., Qurtuba califal. Origen y desarrollo de la capital omeya de alAndalus, in Awraq (nueva época) 7/1 (2013), 81–103. Murillo Redondo, J.F., Mª.T. Casal García, and E. Castro del Río, Madīnat Qurṭuba. Aproximación al proceso de formación de la ciudad emiral y califal a partir de la información arqueológica, in Cuadernos de Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ 5 (2004), 257–290. Murillo, J.F., F. Castillo, E. Castro, Mª.T. Casal, and T. Dortez, La almunia y el arrabal de al-Rusafa, en el yanib al-garbi de Madinat Qurtuba, in D. Vaquerizo and J.F. Murillo (eds.), El anfiteatro romano de Córdoba y su entorno urbano. Análisis arqueológico (ss. i–xiii d. C.), vol. 2, Córdoba 2010, 565–615. Ocaña Jiménez, M., Las puertas de la medina de Córdoba, in Al-Andalus 3 (1935), 143– 151. Puente, C. de la, La caracterización de Almanzor: entre la epopeya y la historia, in M.L. Ávila and M. Marín (eds.), Biografías y género biográfico en el Occidente islámico (Estudios onomástico-biográficos de al-Andalus, viii), Madrid 1997, 367–402. Souto, J.A., Building (in) Umayyad al-Andalus: Remarks in the light of certain written sources, in Al-Masāq. Islam and the Mediterranean 11 (1999), 27–39. Torres Balbás, L., Bāb al-sudda y las zudas de la España oriental, in Al-Andalus 17 (1952), 165–175. Vallejo Triano, A., La ciudad califal de Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ. Arqueología de su arquitectura, Córdoba 2010. Vallejo Triano, A., Madinat al-Zahra: realidad histórica y presente patrimonial, in Awraq (nueva época) 7/1 (2013), 121–142. Vallvé Bermejo, J., Al-Andalus: sociedad e instituciones, Madrid 1999. Veyne, P., Propagande expression roi, image idole oracle, in L’Homme 114 (1990), 7–26. Zanón, J., Topografía de Córdoba almohade a través de las fuentes árabes, Madrid 1989.

chapter 9

The Medina: The Old City of Cordoba Alberto León Muñoz and Alberto Javier Montejo Córdoba

1

Introduction

Paradoxically, the medina of Cordoba, the walled city that has been occupied since the foundation of the Roman Republic, to the middle of the 2nd century ce, and up to the present time, is one of the less-known spaces in the history of the capital of al-Andalus. This “old city” is the result of the stratification of all the vital phases of urban life. The continual occupation of the space has resulted in complex, stratified layers that have affected the remains of previous structures, which have either been concealed under or reutilized in subsequent urban development. This uninterrupted process, albeit being constantly transformed, has played a fundamental role in shaping the urban image of Cordoba throughout its history. Much less is known about this walled enclave than the suburban areas of the city, where the intense preventive archaeological activity of recent decades and numerous archaeological interventions have allowed us to gather an enormous amount of material information, which still needs to be processed adequately. The conditions in which archaeological interventions are undertaken inside the historic center—in very small spaces with complex, largely altered, and partial stratigraphic sequences—constitute an important research limitation. Obviously, this circumstance is not exclusive to Cordoba, as the same thing occurs in many of the great Andalusi mudun (Toledo, Seville, Merida, etc.). In the capital of al-Andalus, however, it is even more evident given the volume of documentary and archaeological records on the topography of the suburban areas. The most ambitious attempts to discover more about the walled city date to the middle of the 20th century—when archaeology had yet to enjoy the status it does today—and were undertaken through a close collaboration between distinguished Arabists, architects, and historians. Thanks to the generous exchange of information between specialists from different fields, it was possible to paint a fairly accurate picture of the urban image of Cordoba at the height of the Umayyad Caliphate.1 However, knowledge of the city was based primarily 1 See León, Aportaciones de don Manuel Ocaña.

© A. Leó n Muñ oz and A.J. Montejo Có rdoba, 2023 | doi:10.1163/9789004524156_010

the medina: the old city of cordoba

187

figure 9.1 Aerial views of the monumental complex formed by the mosque-cathedral, the Andalusi alcázar, and the main bridge, with the Calahorra fortress at its southern end © gmu córdoba

on chronological information and descriptions of the most monumental structures that remained standing. Regarding the archaeological information, the shadow cast by the Great Mosque, the most unique and important building of Umayyad Andalusi architecture, has obscured other architectural elements of the city’s Islamic past. Nonetheless, a significant number of vestiges from this period of the city’s history are still visible in the urban landscape, as they have been reutilized and integrated into new constructions. The best example is undoubtedly the mosque-cathedral itself and, like it, the minarets of the neighborhood mosques that were converted into bell towers for the churches built after the Castilian conquest or baths that can be found even today in the some of the city’s dwellings (fig. 9.1). This does not necessarily mean that the image of the historic center of the contemporary city, particularly the well-known Jewry (or “Juderia”), is a direct and reliable reflection of the Umayyad medina. This automatic reading implies considering urban development as a static phenomenon, when in reality it is the result of a long process of evolution and continuous change. The development of a long-lived, dynamic city harboring a rich and influential life has resulted in a complex urban space; the fruit of a cultural fusion that makes Cor-

188

león muñoz and montejo córdoba

doba the perfect example of a historic city, which requires a slow reading and permanent revision. It is therefore more necessary than ever to undertake an exhaustive study of the intramural space based on information that has come to us from urban archaeology in the same way that has occurred, with evident success, for the late antique period.2 Here, our aim is to provide an overview of the state of knowledge about the intramural city and discuss some of the numerous questions that remain unanswered about this urban space. The intention is to confirm the scarce extant evidence and open up a new avenue for resolving these uncertainties in the future. The mere technical work of recovering archaeological remains does not in itself produce knowledge. Indeed, research progress and a deeper understanding of the material data can only be achieved by formulating new questions based on properly documented records. In this regard, in recent years evidence has shown beyond a doubt that the late antique period is of vital importance for our knowledge of the Islamic city. Archaeology has played an essential role in bringing this period to light, as well as the historical research, which has traditionally been lacking. In the case of Cordoba, this is particularly relevant, as Late Antiquity was the period in which one of the main transformations of the urban topography took place; a change that would mark the subsequent urban development. Specifically, the spaces of power were moved from the northern sector and established in the southwestern sector of the city. Although the chronology of this process is not yet fully known, it may have occurred in the 5th century ce when the main public spaces of the city, the episcopal complex, and the large civil sector, were erected.3 Both spaces had a decisive influence on the construction of buildings as a symbol of power throughout the Middle Ages; an eloquent example of the continuous occupation and appropriation of spaces as a way of legitimizing political and religious authority. Logically, it was in this sector where the main monumentalization programs were undertaken by the authorities in al-Andalus, especially the Umayyad emirs. Moreover, changes made to the orthogonal Roman roads, the occupation, reutilization, and plundering of public buildings, and the different uses of the walled areas during Late Antiquity, such as for productive and funerary activities, among others, resulted in a model of occupation that differed greatly from the classical city upon which the Muslim community settled. Recent archaeological research is changing the negative perception of the late antique city, which has been described as being poor and decadent. The 2 Ruiz Bueno, Topografía, imagen y evolución urbanística. 3 León and Murillo, El complejo civil tardoantiguo de Córdoba.

the medina: the old city of cordoba

189

signs of abandonment recorded in Islamic written sources at the time of the conquest must have been due to a critical situation; typical of a climate of instability, which eventually brought the Visigothic monarchy to an end in the early 8th century. However, the city maintained its urban dynamism and intense architectural activity during most of late antiquity, as the material information seems to attest, especially in certain areas of the city, all of which demonstrate the importance of this phase; a phase that has largely been ignored until now and the study of which will undoubtedly contribute to our knowledge of the Andalusi city. The reforms and new urban projects undertaken by the Andalusi authorities aimed to create an urban image that was a reflection of Islamic society and the emerging Umayyad state. This program of urban development began under the government of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān i with the construction of the two main buildings of the medina, the Great Mosque and the Andalusi alcázar (fortress),4 and was continued throughout the 9th century by ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii and his successors.5 The result was an Islamized city, in which some of the spaces and previous elements were inherited and reutilized or transformed to create new ones in accordance with the interests and priorities of the now dominant society. The medina was a privileged space where the buildings representing power and the main infrastructures required to live the life of a good Muslim were concentrated and where members of the new governing elite, the aristocracy most closely linked to the Umayyad family, and its immediate circle settled.6 Despite the scarce information, in light of what has been said, it seems logical to think that the interior of the walled enclosure was densely occupied at the time, particularly in the southern sector, and that there must have been very few open spaces, such as gardens, squares or the like, that were common in suburban areas where sufficient space was available for this purpose. It is not our aim to carry out an exhaustive topographical study of the interior of the medina, for which, as we have said, the available information comes primarily from chronological sources, and only a few specific buildings and spaces have been identified in archaeological interventions. There are only exceptional cases in which it is possible to match the toponymic data with the material remains. Only some of the city’s most conspicuous spaces, such as its gates or the elements associated with the Great Mosque (the eastern mīḍaʾa) 4 Acién and Vallejo, Urbanismo y estado islámico 113. 5 Murillo, Casal, and Castro, Madīnat Qurṭuba; León and Murillo, El complejo civil tardoantiguo. 6 Acién, Madīnat al-Zahrāʼ 24.

190

león muñoz and montejo córdoba

and certain structures near the alcazar, like the stone embankment (al-raṣīf ), have been identified with any certainty. Aside from this, the usual lack of in situ epigraphic testimonies makes any attempt at topographical identification a very, if not totally, complex and unproductive task, at least with the current level of research. For this reason, we consider it more appropriate to define the main urban features based on the direct information provided by the material record.

2

The Delimitation of Space: The Walls and Gates

Out of the entire urban ensemble, what we undoubtedly know best is the layout of the walled enclosure, which spans an area of approximately 76 ha. Similarly, thanks to the work of M. Ocaña,7 it has been possible to identify the arrangement and name of its gates (fig. 9.2). The enclosure originally had seven gates, whose names have been transmitted, among others, by Ibn Bashkuwāl8 and al-ʿUdhrī.9 In what follows, we will list them in clock-wise order beginning with the southernmost gate of Bāb alQanṭara (Bridge Gate or River Gate). This is followed on the western side by the gates of Bāb Ishbīliya or Bāb al-Aṭṭārīn (Seville Gate), Bāb al-Jawz or Bāb Baṭalyaws (Almodóvar Gate), and Bāb ʿĀmir al-Qurashī (Puerta de Gallegos). The gate on the northern flank is Bāb al-Yahūd (or Bāb Luyūn, Bāb Ṭalabīra, or Bāb al-Hudā), while the gates of Bāb Ibn ʿAbd al-Jabbār, Bāb Ṭulayṭula, or Bāb Rūmiyya (Rome Gate) and Bāb al-Ḥadīd (Iron Gate or Zaragoza Gate) are located to the east. Unfortunately, only the structure of the Almodóvar Gate has been preserved, but traces of all of the gates remain in the current street grid, as their location has been fossilized by the streets that penetrate the urban space. As for the Bridge Gate, it appears that the toponym refers not only to the entrance located in the wall itself—the location of which coincides with the gate built in the time of Philip ii—but also possibly to the arch leading to the bridge from the southern bank of the river at the opposite end of the city.10 The only remains of the wall of the Andalusi medina that are preserved, although difficult to distinguish, are those on the eastern (San Fernando Street) and western (Cairuán Street) sides up to the Almodóvar Gate; the only one left standing. In parts of the wall it is possible to see some sections and towers 7 8 9 10

Ocaña, Las puertas de la medina. Ocaña, Las puertas de la medina 143–144. Zanón, Topografía de Córdoba 41–43. León, La Calahorra 399.

the medina: the old city of cordoba

191

figure 9.2 Hypothesis of the restitution of the inner urban fabric of the medina, also indicating the main gates (Murillo et al., Investigaciones arqueológicas) © gmu-uco

192

león muñoz and montejo córdoba

composed of alternating courses of ashlar stretchers and headers, the result of reforms undertaken during the caliphate period.11 In the intervention carried out on the site of what is now a car park (Parking la Mezquita de Córdoba), the original remains of the wall’s inner face have been documented from a base constructed using a vertical, chained ashlar masonry technique, which has been dated to the emirate period (fig. 9.3). Although the information is very scarce and imprecise, it is tempting to associate these structures with the brief mention of the reconstruction of the medina’s walled enclosure undertaken by ʿAbd al-Raḥmān i in 766.12 Today, the outdated hypothesis that the enlargement of the walled enclosure to the south occurred in Late Antiquity, specifically under supposed Byzantine domination,13 must be completely ruled out. Although the southern sector of the wall was the last to be identified, a layout and chronology was proposed in the mid-1990s14 and has been confirmed, with slight nuances, in later works.15 Therefore, the space occupied by the Andalusi medina coincides perfectly with the walls of the Roman and Late Antique city, although the defensive structures were repaired on several occasions between the 3rd and 6th centuries.16 The boundaries of the walled enclosure remained unchanged until the beginning of the 11th century, when the instability brought about by the fitna marked the end of the Umayyad caliphate. This event led to the elongation of the perimeter walls of the defenses and included part of the eastern sector, jānib al-sharqī, to protect some of the most densely populated neighborhoods that had existed since the 8th century and, especially, the urban expansion in the last quarter of the 10th century ushered in by the foundation of Madīnat al-Zahira.17 In the Almohad period—when the city experienced an intense but shortlived urban revitalization—the enclosures underwent significant reforms due to the city’s strategic position. The enclosure of the alcazaba (citadel) was extended and the defensive structures were reinforced with new watch towers on the western face of the wall.18 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18

León, León, and Murillo, El Guadalquivir. Acién and Vallejo, Urbanismo y estado islámico 113, n. 36. Ocaña, Córdoba: notas topográficas; Marfil, Córdoba de Teodosio; Mazzoli-Guintard, Córdoba. Montejo and Garriguet, El ángulo suroccidental. León, León, and Murillo, El Guadalquivir. Ruiz Bueno and Vaquerizo, Las murallas como paradigma 178–179. León, León, and Murillo, El Guadalquivir. León, Las fortificaciones.

the medina: the old city of cordoba

figure 9.3a–c

193

Elevation of the interior face of the wall canvas documented during the archaeological intervention on the site of the current Parking la Mezquita de Córdoba (a) and (b), carried out with the technique of vertical chains of ashlar masonry; and tower of the western canvas of the wall in Qairuán street (c) photographs by the authors

Following the Castilian conquest in 1236, the population was once again confined to the limits of these walled enclosures which, following the extension of the southwestern stretch of the Wall of the Huerta del Alcázar,19 defined the city’s image until the first phases of urban expansion in the 1930s. The urban landscape defined by the city walls is distorted today, as many stretches of the wall were systematically dismantled during the end of the 19th century and the beginning of the 20th century, especially in the northern half. This was due to the wall’s high maintenance costs, as well as the need

19

Murillo et al., Investigaciones arqueológicas.

194

león muñoz and montejo córdoba

to open up the city to the alleged “panacea” that the new railway was expected to bring.20 From the 1860s to the 1870s, the Puerta de Gallegos and the Seville Gate and their corresponding sectors of wall were destroyed, and in 1905 the Osario Gate was demolished in the northern sector.21 After this, the preserved sections remained in a very poor state until the middle of the 20th century, when—in an attempt to recover the city’s historical image—some stretches of the wall underwent extensive restoration and reconstruction work in the 1960s, particularly those on Cairuán Street.

3

The Internal Structure: The Roads

When defining the urban image of the the islamic medina of Cordoba, reference is often made to the current street plan of the city’s walled sector, as it is considered a direct and unaltered reflection of the one that existed during the Islamic period, characterized by an agglomeration of houses distributed along narrow streets that are laid out in an intricate and chaotic arrangement lacking order and planning due to the arbitrary, uncontrolled, and unregulated initiatives of neighbors. Fortunately, in the last two decades, anthropological studies have compared and corroborated data from Islamic jurisprudence (the books of fatwas) and the material record, which has radically changed the prevailing view. Today, we know that the Andalusi cities were built according to an internal logic and norms of sociability and solidarity among citizens who were subject to corrective measures by the authorities in order to prevent abuses.22 Moreover, it has also been shown that the process of transforming the orthogonal road in Roman Cordoba did not begin during the Islamic period, as had previously been believed, but that changes to the urban layout began at a very early stage (2nd century ce) and intensified from the 4th and 5th centuries ce onwards. However, the main alterations to the route of the preexisting roads and building new streets must have occurred from the 8th century onwards (fig. 9.4).23

20 21 22

23

Martín, La desaparición. Martín, La desaparición 423. See Van Staëvel, Casa, calle y vecindad; Van Staëvel, Droit malikite; Mazzoli-Guintard, Vivre à Cordoue; García y Bellido, Principios y reglas; García y Bellido, Morfogénesis; among others. Ruiz Bueno, Topografía, imagen y evolución urbanística 523.

the medina: the old city of cordoba

195

figure 9.4 Superimposed plan (Roman [red], Islamic [blue], and contemporary times) with the transformations experienced in the inner road of the walled city since the beginning of the 2nd century ce and its continuity in the current road axes ruiz bueno, topografía, imagen y evolución urbanística 523

196

figure 9.5a–c

león muñoz and montejo córdoba

(a) “Plan of the French,” drawn up by Karwinsky’s man in 1811; (b) aerial view of Cordoba made by Guesdon in the mid-19th century; (c) image of the city of Cordoba from the west in the 1930s © ahm córdoba

For this reason, the direct identification of the current road layout with the Islamic period, particularly the Umayyad period, should be taken with caution since this urban landscape could have been designed after the fall of the alAndalus caliphate. However, we do have a very interesting graphic document from the beginning of the 19th century, the first topographic map of the city, known as the “Map of the French,” drawn by Baron Karwinsky in 1811 (fig. 9.5a). Given that the changes made to the road structures during the late medieval and modern periods could not have been very extensive, this document has

the medina: the old city of cordoba

197

been taken as a testimony, with an acceptable level of plausibility, of the situation in the city, at least during the final phases of the Islamic period.24 This last nuance is very important, as it implies that the grid plan was a process that took shape throughout the entire Islamic period and not initially as something consubstantial and characteristic of Andalusi society, without taking into account precedents. In fact, the main roads, around which the interior of the medina was organized, largely maintained the layout of the ancient Roman axes, as they served to connect the gates located at the cardinal points of the city.25 In addition to this basic structure, a network of secondary roads with a more uniform layout, orientation, and width was built between the different sectors of the walled city. And, finally, the early 19th-century map shows a significant number of small cul-de-sacs, especially in the southern half of the medina. These cul-de-sacs, known as adarves, provided access to the numerous dwellings in the densely occupied intramural space that was the result of a long process of urban densification and land fragmentation.26 In the case of Cordoba, the saturation of certain urban spaces was, to a large extent, the result of historical changes that took place in the Andalusi city. As reflected in the suburban spaces, the city witnessed periods of intense demographic and urban growth under the Umayyads, alternating with moments of rapid population decline inside the walls as a consequence of the fitna at the beginning of the 11th century, and later at the end of Almohad rule in the early 13th century due to the military instability caused by the threat of the advancing Castilian troops. During these moments of greater population density within the medina, the changes must have intensified, requiring roads to be adapted and new architectural solutions to address the problems of space.27 The adarves may also have been built at this time (fig. 9.6). The higher concentration of adarves in some sectors of the medina was likely due to different patterns of occupation in certain areas of the walled enclave. While the large residences of the urban aristocracy were located in the northern sector and divided up less often, the dwellings in the southern half were compartmentalized and property was subdivided in a more intense manner, thus giving rise to an urban landscape with specific characteristics depending on the area. In the absence of more abundant and conclusive material evidence, there are two basic elements that have contributed to our knowledge of the road plan 24 25 26 27

Murillo, Casal, and Castro, Madīnat Qurṭuba 259. Murillo, Casal, and Castro, Madīnat Qurṭuba 260. Navarro and Jiménez, Sobre la ciudad islámica. Mazzoli-Guintard, Une ville en quête 143–144.

198

león muñoz and montejo córdoba

figure 9.6 Adarve, a small cul-de-sac, known as “calleja del Pañuelo,” which leads to a square that gives access to properties inside the block, in the southern part of the medina photograph by the authors

from a strictly archaeological standpoint: the sewage network of the streets and the layout and orientation of the Islamic buildings that are still standing. At the beginning of the 20th century, the first study was carried out on these sewage networks in the vicinity of the Great Mosque, which appeared to have been in operation until as late as the 1920s.28 The distribution of this sanitation infrastructure broadly coincides with the road traced on the French map (fig. 9.7). More recently, new findings have suggested that this drainage system was of a greater extension, although the documentation is still very partial.29 The system was constructed of limestone block walls with a facing of masonry headers of the same material and was organized in a hierarchical network of canals to drain the wastewater into the river.

28 29

Azorín, El alcantarillado árabe. Pizarro, El alcantarillado árabe; Pizarro, El abastecimiento de agua.

figure 9.7a–c

(a) Layout of the water evacuation system of the interior of the medina; (b) layout of the sewer documented in C / Magistral González; and (c) detail of the ashlar channel (Pizarro, El alcantarillado árabe) © gmu-uco

the medina: the old city of cordoba

199

200

león muñoz and montejo córdoba

This information is complemented by the arrangement of the few remains of Islamic buildings preserved in the medina. Of all the buildings, it is obviously the Great Mosque that stands out the most. The building was adapted to the preexisting road network but also required rearranging the surrounding streets. The road to the east of the foundational mosque of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān i was documented during the interventions carried out by Félix Hernández in the 1930s and most recently studied by Pedro Marfil.30 Al-mahajja al-ʿuẓmā was the other large avenue to the west of the Great Mosque, which separated it from the Andalusi alcázar.31 This was the main road artery running from the north to the south of the city and whose layout seems to coincide with that of an old Roman cardo, which did not undergo any significant alternations until the current Torrijos Street was built.32 A series of sābāṭāt (elevated passageways) were built over the avenue to connect the alcázar to the various extensions of the main mosque, where pillars corresponding to the extension of al-Ḥakam ii have been excavated.33 The other most relevant examples are two of the neighborhood mosques identified within the medina: that of San Juan, dating from the emirate period, and that of Santa Clara, from the end of the caliphate. Both are associated with one of the main streets that runs through the city in a northwest-east direction. The mosques are oriented in the same direction, although only the minaret of the first is preserved. These apparent deviations from the canonical orientation of the qibla were not due to technical difficulties, nor did they constitute a significant problem,34 they were simply a versatile and practical adaptation to a previously urbanized space; the design of which was consolidated with the construction of these buildings that marked the layout of the new Islamic road (figs. 9.8a–d).

4

The Center of Political Power: The Andalusi Alcazar

The Andalusi alcázar of Cordoba is one of the buildings that has attracted the attention of researchers on the capital of al-Andalus the most, although it occupies a secondary place with respect to the Great Mosque. As the main seat of the political power of the Umayyad state before, during, and after the founda-

30 31 32 33 34

Marfil, Avance de resultados. García Gómez, Notas sobre la topografía cordobesa 322. Murillo et al., La Transición de la Civitas 523. Pizarro, Los pasadizos elevados. González, Las mezquitas de Córdoba 278–279.

the medina: the old city of cordoba

figure 9.8a–d

201

Route layout of the Andalusi medina: (a) conserved street to the east of the founding mosque of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān i documented during the interventions carried out by Félix Hernández in the 1930s; (b) al-mahajja al-ʿuẓmā, street located between the west façade of the Great Mosque and the Andalusi alcazar (current C / Torrijos); (c) and (d) minarets of the mosques of San Juan (emirate era) and Santa Clara, (from the end of the caliphate), adapted to the surrounding road network photographs by the authors

tion of the palatine city of Madīnat al-Zahrāʼ, this architectural complex is one of the most important examples of Islamic civil architecture in the Western Mediterranean. Most of the studies on the alcázar have been based almost exclusively on contemporary (Ibn Ḥayyān and ʿĪsā b. Aḥmad al-Rāzī) and later written sources (Ibn Bashkuwāl, al-ʿUdhrī, Ibn ʿIdhārī al-Marrākushī, al-Ḥimyarī, al-Nuwayrī, and al-Maqqarī), many of which have provided laudatory, hyperbolic, ambigu-

202

león muñoz and montejo córdoba

ous, and contradictory, if not distorted, accounts of this palatine complex. The documentary value of these literary sources is undeniable, and they have been crucial in developing, with more or less success, the different approaches to the location, layout, and internal structure of the site.35 Fewer studies have focused their attention on the rich and varied archaeological information recovered during more than a century in different parts of the city, despite the fact that this material record provides the most direct information on the features of the architectural complex. This is because the city’s properties were divided up into lots and ceded to the church or given to the nobles who had taken part in the Castilian conquest, which resulted in the fragmentation and subsequent disintegration of the city. This dispersion has blurred the perception of the palatine complex as a single architectural unit and has considerably limited our understanding of this Andalusi fortress, with notable exceptions.36 Immediately following the conquest, the seat of Islamic power was established on the same site the civil authorities occupied in the Late Antique city; a sector for which we had only very limited archaeological information until just a few years ago. At first, they did so by appropriating and reutilizing the preexisting palatine structures belonging to the Visigothic urban oligarchy referred to as balāṭs by the sources.37 Among them were the balāṭ Ludrīq, the balāṭ al-Ḥurr, and the balāṭ Mughīt the latter of which is located in the outskirts of the city according to recent interpretations. In this southwestern sector, the Umayyad authorities concentrated their main efforts on the monumentalization of the seat from which to rule over the destiny of the new Andalusi state, particularly from 785 onwards; initially under the leadership of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān i, who established the first administrative services and institutions of the new Umayyad government in this area.38 In the second quarter of the 9th century, ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii undertook an ambitious architectural program, in addition to political and economic reforms in accordance with the new model of the Andalusi state, similar to what was being done in the Abbasid Caliphate. The urban reform project inside the medina extended to the entire southwest sector facing the river and modified the external appearance of the city’s southern face, which included a fortified enclosure, partially built following the old line of the wall, preceded by an ash-

35

36 37 38

See Montejo and Garriguet, El Alcázar andalusí de Córdoba; Montejo, Garriguet, and Zamorano, El Alcázar andalusí de Córdoba; Arjona and Lope de Rego, Topografía e historia del Alcázar; Arjona, Topografía e historia del Alcázar. See Montejo and Garriguet, El Alcázar andalusí de Córdoba. Lafuente, Ajbar Machmuâ 33. Acién and Vallejo, Urbanismo y estado islámico 114.

the medina: the old city of cordoba

203

lar masonry river quay built in 827–828. A raṣīf (cobbled road) was built on top of the quay and ran along the southern façade of the alcázar.39 The design of this architectural ensemble must have served as a model for other Andalusi urban enclaves, such as the alcazaba of Merida, whose construction may have been influenced by the design of the Cordoban alcázar of the same date. This same emir carried out an intensive building project at the seat of the court and the Umayyad administration. The available archaeological information indicates that from this moment on the perimeter of the palatine complex located in the southwest corner of the city was defined and surrounded by a large enclosure that would be maintained, without major alterations, until the end of the caliphate. Numerous remains are scattered over several points of this wide urban sector that allow us to make a first appraisal of the limits and distribution of the Umayyad alcázar. The eastern façade of the episcopal palace located opposite the Great Mosque preserves its curtain walls and towers. The walls were built using a stretcher and header bond pattern that can still be seen today. A stratigraphic reading and the constructive features of the walls date them to the emirate period during the reign of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii.40 Above the walls there are others that can be ascribed to the caliphal period (second half of the 10th century). Between these walls and the western façade of the mosque, in what is today Torrijos Street, the foundations of the pillars that supported the caliphal sābāṭ connecting the Umayyad alcázar to the extension of the religious building commissioned by al-Ḥakam ii were documented in 2006.41 More recent excavations have been carried out inside the Patio de Carruajes (carriage courtyard) of the episcopal palace. Although the results, and therefore the interpretation, are still unpublished and provisional, the documented structures are of great interest. The structures include the closure of a large, Late Antique building preceding the Umayyad palace, as well as remains of rooms from the emirate and caliphal periods associated with the control of a possible door and the interior entrance to the sābāṭ mentioned above. The sequence documented here confirms the first proposals made following the excavation of the Patio de Mujeres (Women’s Courtyard) in the Alcázar de los Reyes Cristianos (Fortress of the Catholic Monarchs). In 1922, excavations were carried out in this same courtyard. Specifically, a ditch was dug in the northern façade of the Patio de Carruajes, where a stout wall running parallel to the river was identified and interpreted as the remains of a wall that spanned east 39 40 41

Murillo et al., Investigaciones arqueológicas. Velasco, Marfil, and Pérez, El palacio episcopal de Córdoba 1912–1913. Pizarro, Los pasadizos elevados.

204

león muñoz and montejo córdoba

to west and encircled the southern side of the Umayyad palace.42 This gave rise to various interpretations and new proposals regarding the building’s floor plan, which have now proven to be erroneous.43 In the northern enclosure of the Umayyad alcázar some architectural elements have also been preserved. In the courtyard of what is today the Palacio de Congresos (conference center), it is possible to see the almost complete elevation of one of the towers that flanked the northern wall of this enclosure. On this same wall, in a more western section not currently accessible to the public, there is a second tower in a better state of conservation where rusticated ashlar bonding of exceptional quality can be observed. This is a construction feature of some works carried out during the emirate of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii, such as the outer wall of the miḥrāb in the mosque of Cordoba. Continuing westwards, on this same northern wall, structures are preserved in what is known as the “Jardín del Obispo” (Bishop’s Garden), currently the courtyard of the Provincial Library. In 1961, Rafael Castejón carried out a small archaeological excavation here to identify the tombs of the emirs and Umayyad caliphs; the rawḍah (funerary garden) mentioned in the written sources.44 During this intervention, part of what may have been a courtyard surrounded by a gallery with ashlar pilasters was documented, but none of the elements could be identified with a funerary space. A decade later, in 1971, Ana María Vicent, then director of the Provincial Archaeological Museum of Cordoba, together with the architect Félix Hernández, carried out an excavation in which they documented a large section of the northern wall of the alcázar, a gate between two towers, and an interior service alley, now closed to the public.45 Of all the excavated elements of the Umayyad alcázar, the most recognizable in the current urban layout are those belonging to the well-known Caliphal Baths in the area known as Campo Santo de los Mártires. This site was initially excavated in 1903 by Rafael Ramírez de Arellano. From December 1961 to 1964, Félix Hernández and Manuel Ocaña carried out a second intervention in the baths, during which a considerable section of the architectural ensemble was recovered. Several stages of the building’s architectural evolution were also identified, both by architectural analysis and, above all, by the recovery and subsequent study of an extremely interesting repertory of plasterboard sheets with epigraphic decorations in which the caliphal building phase, as well as

42 43 44 45

Castejón, Córdoba califal 279. Castejón, Córdoba califal; Arjona and Lope, Topografía e historia 176; Levi-Provençal, El desarrollo urbano. Castejón, Excavaciones en el Alcázar. Vicent, Excavaciones en el Palacio.

the medina: the old city of cordoba

205

successive extensions and the remodeling of several rooms in the Taifa (11th century), Almoravid (11th–12th centuries), and Almohad (12th–13th centuries) periods could be distinguished.46 To the north of these baths the remains of the northern wall of the Umayyad enclosure can be found. This section of the wall was documented in 2005 in the excavations prior to the construction of the car park mentioned above, where it has now been integrated.47 Probably due to the prior existence of the baths, the northern closure of the alcázar was laid out in an exceptional zigzag pattern in a west-east direction from the western wall of the medina. The remaining structures are clearly caliphal and were built entirely from limestone ashlars using an alternating stretcher and header bond system. An entrance to the palace has also been documented, probably the Ḥammām Gate, which was blinded and annulled in the Almohad period during the major reforms carried out in the alcázar by the government of this North African caliphate. Descending southwards, the recent intervention to refurbish and restore the Royal Stables has made it possible to document the western boundary of the Umayyad fortress, which coincides at this point with the western wall of the city, whose Castilian late medieval construction was reused to build the northeastern closure of the Royal Stables. The southwestern corner of the Andalusi court ensemble is the one for which we have the most complete and spectacular archaeological information in terms of the importance and state of conservation of the documented structures. Specifically, in the Women’s Courtyard of the Fortress of the Catholic Monarchs, an archaeological excavation was undertaken between 2002 and 2004 that has identified a sequence of uninterrupted occupation from the 1st century ce to the 20th century (figs. 9.9a–c). Particularly noteworthy is the evidence of the Late Antique civil enclosure (Castellum) at the southwestern corner of the city, probably the origin of the later Umayyad alcázar.48 Several building phases dating from the Umayyad period to monumentalize and redistribute pavilions around the central courtyards using the architectural typology characteristic of Madīnat al-Zahrāʼ have been identified. And finally, at the southern end, next to the river, the Albolafia waterwheel is also preserved. This waterwheel was closely associated with the alcázar but is usually decontextualized and not identified with the Andalusi architectural complex. The currently visible hydraulic ingenuity of the waterwheel is the result of restoration work carried out by Félix Hernández in the early 1960s 46 47 48

See Ocaña, El origen de la yesería andalusí; Ocaña, Panorámica sobre el arte. See León, León, and Murillo, El Guadalquivir. León and Murillo, El complejo civil.

figure 9.9a–c

(a) Hypothetical restitution of the plan of the Andalusi alcázar of Cordoba at the end of the 10th century; (b) and (c) views of the structures documented in the archaeological intervention inside the “Patio de Mujeres” of the Alcázar de los Reyes Cristianos de Córdoba (a) courtesy of juan f. murillo; (b), (c) © gmu-uco

206 león muñoz and montejo córdoba

the medina: the old city of cordoba

207

that culminated in the reinstatement of the waterwheel as a symbol in the city’s seal, which had originally been used in the late Middle Ages. According to this author, the masonry work can be distinguished in the preserved structures, which have been attributed to Alfonso xi and dated to the 14th century, with some 15th-century refurbishments.49 The origin of the waterwheel has traditionally been ascribed to the Almoravid period.50 However, in an old photograph dating from the late 19th century, certain architectural elements, such as the springer of a magnificent arch composed of large voussoirs and ashlars can be seen over the “pass” formed by the river quay at the foot of the city wall, which suggest a chronology of the 9th century, during the time of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii or his son Muḥammad i. This is the opinion of Manuel Ocaña, who argued that “[…] it seems that he [ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii] was responsible for the installation of a siqaya or waterwheel in the mill of Kulayb, today the Albolafia, to elevate the water from the river to the Qaṣr al-Umarāʼ […].”51 It is very likely that the location of this waterwheel was closely associated with the rawḍah, the Umayyad funerary garden, whose location in this southern sector of the alcázar has recently been proposed based on the available archaeological information.52 In light of the above, it seems evident that the Islamic palatine complex underwent a process similar to that of the Great Mosque under Umayyad rule to demonstrate the political and religious legitimacy of the dynasty founded by ʿAbd al-Raḥmān i. However, this process is much better known for the religious building than for the alcázar, whose courtly character continued during the caliphate despite the construction of the city’s new seat at Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ. This Umayyad architectural ensemble underwent a drastic transformation in the Almohad period in the 1170s, when an ambitious building program was undertaken to reinforce the defensive function of the area around the bridge. Above the Umayyad structures documented in the Women’s Courtyard, which were razed to elevate the ground to a height of more than two meters, a new building was erected: an Almohad palace organized around a large transept courtyard in its western half and with rooms for servants in its eastern sector.53 This square floor plan laid the ground for the later Castilian late medieval castle, what is today the Alcázar de los Reyes Cristianos (Fortress of the Catholic Monarchs). This palace stands at the center of a new architectural

49 50 51 52 53

Hernández, Restauración en el molino. Torres Balbás, La Albolafia de Córdoba. Ocaña, Córdoba musulmana 40. Montejo, La Rauda del Alcázar. León, Las fortificaciones.

208

león muñoz and montejo córdoba

complex; an extensive alcazaba designed and erected in the Almohad period that is made up of several walled enclosures that tripled the extension of the old Umayyad alcázar and is in the image of the alcázar of Seville, the Almohad capital of al-Andalus. The first was the new building to the west, known in historiographic literature as the “Old Castle of the Jewish Quarter,” that is partially preserved today.54 Towards the south, in the wall known as the Huerta del Alcázar (Alcazar Orchard), a new enclosure was erected with the structures of the preexisting Umayyad river quay (al-raṣīf ) that extended to the Guadalcabrillas Tower to the west and closed to the north in the tower known as the Torre de las Vírgenes (Virgins’ Tower).55 This site would continue to be of strategic importance throughout the medieval period. As the former seat of civil power in the city, it was considered a prestigious site and would continue to attract the attention of the Castilian crown, which undertook some reforms and made some additions in the 14th and 15th centuries.

5

Residential Architecture

With regard to the spaces and buildings where most of the population lived, the limited extension of the excavated plots and the destruction and stratigraphic alterations typical of uninterrupted occupation make it impossible to determine the complete floor plans of the dwellings inside the city walls. In general terms, however, these residences must not have been very different from those excavated in the outskirts. All of the homes were constructed according to a very basic scheme, with rooms or bays arranged around a central courtyard. The main circumstances that may have conditioned their structure, extension, and specific characteristics must have included the fact that the walled city was a densely populated area with scarce space, which required building upwards. For this reason, from the 11th century onwards, when the suburbs that had emerged during the urban expansion of the Umayyad period were abandoned, one of the particular features of some of the intramural houses, especially those located in the southern sector of the city, were the lofts or rooms (al-ghuraf ) built on the upper floors, generally facing the street and used for various activities, whether by the owners of the dwelling or by the tenants to whom they were rented.56 Although there is no archaeological evidence of the existence of 54 55 56

León, León, and Murillo, El Guadalquivir. Murillo et al., Investigaciones arqueológicas. Mazzoli-Guintard, Género y arquitectura doméstica 289.

the medina: the old city of cordoba

209

staircases leading to the second stories of these dwelling, written accounts by Ibn Sahl mention two examples of this type of rooms in the vicinity of the Great Mosque and the conflicts that arose between neighbors because they obstructed the view and affected the easements based on the Muslim principles of sociability.57 As we have already mentioned, the interior of the medina was a privileged space, as reflected in the descriptions of the few testimonies of domestic architecture recovered so far. With regard to the extension and distribution of the houses, the best documented example is a large caliphal dwelling excavated in Blanco Belmonte Street, whose general structure has been fairly well maintained in the walls and later spaces.58 The part that is best documented corresponds to the central courtyard, which measured about 15 × 17m and had a rectangular pool (measuring 7×4m) and a perimeter platform around which the bays with the different rooms were distributed. According to the proposed restitution of its floor plan, the possible existence of more than one interior courtyard cannot be ruled out. The size and quality of the materials and construction techniques, with 0.90m wide walls erected with ashlars headers and finished with layers of red-ochre almagra stucco, together with the extension of its floor plan and location, just a short distance to the north of the Great Mosque, indicate the singular nature of this dwelling that, according to the excavators of this site, was associated with a “high-ranking figure.”59 In other interventions, the material record is even more limited, and it has not been possible to determine the complete floor plan. However, the few testimonies recovered at other points around the Great Mosque abound with this same image of large buildings of special architectural interest. For example, at 14 Tejón y Marín Street, foundations composed of ashlar headers have been documented in the northeastern corner of a large caliphal building, which have been preserved in the current site. The magnitude of the remains suggests it is “a public building or […] a residential type of dwelling whose inhabitants must have been of a high economic status.”60 In the eastern sector of the medina, at 3 Antonio del Castillo Street, the elevation of a large structure dated to the emirate period has been excavated. The structure is composed of chains of ashlars and masonry filling, which marked the façade line that separated the domestic constructions from the street to the north. However, it has not been possible 57 58 59 60

Mazzoli-Guintard, Género y arquitectura doméstica 299. Ventura and Carmona, Resultados sucintos 221–222. Ventura and Carmona, Resultados sucintos 222. Molina, Intervención Arqueológica 55.

210

león muñoz and montejo córdoba

to identify the building’s functions beyond its residential character, despite the refined technique with which it was erected.61 The structures of the caliphal building excavated at 5 Manríquez Street (on the site of the current Centro de Arte Contemporáneo of the Botí Foundation) immediately to the north of the alcázar are of a similar character. A large wall of more than ten meters in length has been documented at the site. The wall measures some three meters in height and 0.75 meters in width and was built using large limestone ashlars arranged in a stretcher and header pattern alternating with square intermediate fillings of facing masonry set with abundant lime mortar in a mixed checkerboard technique.62 The size of these walls, which extend beyond the limits of the site marking the alignment of subsequent constructions, and their location next to the seat of political power of the capital indicate the singular and official nature of this building (figs. 9.10a and b). The northern and eastern limits of a large caliphal building located in Maimónides Square at the corner of Cardenal Salazar de Córdoba Street have been excavated. The building has large perpendicular walls constructed with a bond of ashlar stretchers and headers and is paved with slate and sandstone slabs. The excavators discard the interpretation of the complex as a domestic space and instead consider it to be part of the courtyard of a mosque or “perhaps the square to access the residence where it was presumably included.”63 In order to do this they are based on the 18th-century reuse of a now lost inscription in a nearby building that mentioned the consecration of a mosque in a private residence of Almanzor. Despite possible doubts regarding the interpretation of the examples given, the rich architectural features of the large buildings in the vicinity of the mosque and the Andalusi fortress could well indicate that their purpose was to house high-ranking figures, either as owners or as occasional residents. In this regard, it is tempting to associate these structures with Ibn Ḥayyān’s accounts in the palatine annals during the time of al-Ḥakam ii64 that refer to the existence of houses inside the medina owned by the state and intended to house guests or illustrious visitors,65 or to hold political hostages of particular relevance from bordering areas. Such is the case of the Casa del Rehén (House of the Hostage) adjacent to the Puerta del Puente (Gate of the Bridge).66 Given their singular

61 62 63 64 65 66

Ruiz Nieto, Intervención Arqueológica 1194. Cano, Intervención Arqueológica 65. Moreno and González, Intervención Arqueológica 168. García Gómez, Anales Palatinos. García Gómez, Notas sobre la topografía cordobesa 368. García Gómez, Notas sobre la topografía cordobesa 364.

the medina: the old city of cordoba

figure 9.10a–b

211

Structures belonging to possible aristocratic buildings inside the medina: (a) wall with caliphate rigging documented in the archaeological intervention on Avenida de Gran Capitán in the mid-1980s; (b) caliphal building excavated at C / Calle Manríquez, 5, (at the headquarters of the current Botí Foundation Center for Contemporary Art) (a) cabrera, córdoba 1991; (b) photograph by the authors

212

león muñoz and montejo córdoba

function, on occasions used to house large retinues, they must have been spacious residences endowed with a singular architecture of the type described above. With regard to the residences of members of the Umayyad family and of Cordoba’s urban elite, we lack material records. However, the testimony of Ibn Ḥayyān in the chronicle of the caliph ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii mentions the resources with which he endowed his children for their economic support: The caliph an-Nāṣir continued this tradition with his sons in an identical but better fashion, surpassing his ancestors as superior in all his actions, […] in such a way that there was no son among his children for whom he did not build a fortress in the city, to which he included a country estate in the outskirts in good and pleasant places, doubling in addition the monthly subsidies and annual gratifications and giving them ample profitable estates and properties from which to collect taxes.67 It is likely that these large residences were scattered throughout the walled enclosure. However, a preferential location has been proposed in the north, “far from the bustling environment of Bāb al-Qanṭara and the Great Mosque”68 and where more space was available to build these constructions. According to Ibn Ḥayyān, this could have been the case of the residence of the future emir Muḥammad when he was still the heir of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii, located next to the Bāb ʻĀmir.69 Today, attempts to identify these buildings have been unsuccessful due to the complete lack of material evidence. However, proof of the existence of buildings of some architectural importance can be found in the great wall, with tower buttresses constructed entirely of alternating courses of ashlar stretchers and headers, which was documented in a very poor state during the archaeological intervention carried out in Gran Capitán Boulevard in the mid-1980s (fig. 9.11). Only one dwelling dating from the Almohad period has been excavated inside the medina at 63 Paseo de la Victoria.70 The floor plan maintains the orientation of previous structures that were reused to construct a new building.

67 68 69

70

Ibn-Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabis v 20–21. Murillo, Casal, and Castro, Madīnat Qurṭuba 60. Ibn-Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabis ii-1. 171r, 265. Ibn Masʾūd places the house that Emir ʿAbd alRaḥmān ii built for his firstborn son Sulaymān next to the Bāb ʿĀmir; see Murillo, Casal, and Castro, Madīnat Qurṭuba 261. Blanco, La arquitectura doméstica 357–364.

the medina: the old city of cordoba

213

The architectural characteristics of this building, its walls, and the amplitude of its spaces, possibly endowed with porticoes to support a room (al-ghurfa) on the upper floor,71 indicate the high-ranking status of its dwellers, as was the case in the Umayyad period.

6

Other Urban Infrastructures: Mosques and Public Baths

To design an urban landscape in consonance with the characteristics of an Andalusi medina, the political authorities constructed buildings and urban infrastructures, such as walls, gates, mosques, baths, hydraulic systems, cemeteries, and other facilities. In order to prevent flooding caused by the often violent overflowing of the Guadalquivir River as it passed through the city, one of the main works undertaken by ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii was a floodwall to protect this southern sector of the city where, as we have said, the palace complex was located. This construction was integrated into the design of the palace itself and was comprised of a large platform on which to erect the building that housed the seat of power. The platform, whose maintenance was the responsibility of the city authorities, was of a larger extension than that of the palace itself, as it reached the residence of the emirs to west and the city’s main souk.72 During this urban planning process, the political authorities, in close collaboration with prominent figures of the city’s elite, founded buildings and bequeathed spaces or economic resources to the community through a system of endowments known as ḥubūs or waqf.73 This was a common practice in the formation of the suburbs outside the city walls, in which women from the Umayyad family played a decisive role.74 Although the testimonies about the interior of the medina are less explicit, the process must have been similar, such as in the case of the mosques of the Umayyad period preserved inside the city: San Juan de los Caballeros and Santa Clara (and those of Santiago and San Lorenzo in the Axerquía neighborhood). These buildings were important spaces that formed an integral part of the life of the neighborhoods, which were identified by the names of their mosques.75

71 72 73 74 75

Blanco, La arquitectura doméstica 360. Ibn-Ḥayyān, Al-Muqtabis ii-1. 172. García Gómez, Notas sobre la topografía; García Gómez, Anales Palatinos. Mazzoli-Guintard, La gestión de las ciudades 204 and 212; see García Sanjuán, Hasta que Dios. León and Murillo, Advances in research 16 and 19; León, Genesi e sviluppo 176. Pinilla, Jurisprudencia y ciudad 564–566.

214

león muñoz and montejo córdoba

Baths and other facilities for the hygiene and purification of members of the Muslim community were associated with these religious buildings. The ablution pavilions built during the extension of the Great Mosque at the end of the 10th century are among the most outstanding examples. Of the three that must have existed, the floor plan of the eastern mīḍaʾa on Magistral González Francés Street has been documented.76 Two baths are also preserved in the surroundings of the Great Mosque: the nearest one is in the north on Céspedes Street (Santa María baths) and has been dated without much precision to the 11th century,77 while the second one is somewhat further to the east on Cara Street (Pescadería baths) and has been dated the 12th century.78 Both buildings were erected or intensely transformed after the fall of the Umayyad Caliphate. Thus, the city was provided with infrastructures that were improved and refurbished during the Islamic period. With regard to hydraulic systems, efforts were focused on supplying water to the palatial compound through the construction or refurbishment of aqueducts. In this respect, the text referring to the works undertaken by ʿAbd alRaḥmān ii is very revealing: [He] raised fortresses, undertook works, built bridges, brought fresh water to his fortress, from the tops of the mountains, drilling through the hard rock to conduct it to his palace with a well-drawn plan, with which he obtained abundant water for drinking and to carry to his park, and brought the surplus to the fountain in front of the southern central [gate] of his Alcazar, the so-called Garden Gate, where it spilled into a marble fountain to which all the people who went to or passed through his fortress had access, with great benefit to all.79 The water supply to homes was the individual responsibility of the neighbors. Therefore, the solutions should not have been very different from those documented in the outskirts, that is, by opening water wells.80 Aside from the provision of infrastructure and services, the authorities were in charge of maintaining order, ensuring the good state of the urban spaces, the care and cleaning of streets and community buildings, such as the souk,81

76 77 78 79 80 81

See Montejo, El pabellón de abluciones. Muñoz, Los baños árabes. Marfil, I.A.U. como apoyo 337. Ibn-Ḥayyān, Al-Muqtabis ii.1. 140r, 171–172. Vázquez, El agua en la Córdoba andalusí. García Gómez, Anales Palatinos 35 (87 trad.) and 48 (93 trad.).

the medina: the old city of cordoba

215

and the cleaning and upkeep of the public baths and cemeteries. The official inspectors and the police assigned to these tasks ensured that new constructions complied with the prescriptions related to harm caused to neighbors and visual indiscretions.82 However, the cleaning and maintenance of the streets and facilities in the neighborhoods was not the responsibility of the public institutions but rather the neighbors themselves, with the exception of common spaces, such as the mosques, public baths, and main streets. In short, the daily functioning of the city and the evolution of the intramural urban landscape were not subject to the guidelines laid down by public institutions but to commonly accepted norms concerning relations between the city’s inhabitants, which were regulated by means of corrective systems set out in Maliki jurisprudence.83 In the coming years, archaeology will play a decisive role in identifying and interpreting the processes of urban development inside the medina. Many research questions remain to be answered, such as: the location and characteristics of the sectors occupied by the Jewish and Christian communities in the Islamic period;84 the process of urban densification after the fall of the Umayyad Caliphate; the transformation of domestic architecture after the Castilian conquest; and others. Only by formulating the appropriate questions and searching for answers in the material record will we be able to fill the gaps in our knowledge of the Cordoban medina.

Bibliography Acién, M., Madīnat al-Zahrāʼ en el urbanismo musulmán, in Cuadernos de Madīnat alZahrāʾ 1 (1987), 11–26. Acién, M., and A. Vallejo, Urbanismo y estado islámico: de Corduba a Qurṭuba— Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, in P. Cressier and M. García-Arenal (eds.), Genèse de la ville islamique en al-Andalus et au Magrib occidental, Madrid 1998, 107–136. Arjona, A., Topografía e historia del Alcázar omeya de Córdoba y su entorno inmediato (y ii), in Boletín de la Real Academia de Córdoba 142 (2002), 325–340. Arjona, A., and J.L. Lope de Rego, Topografía e historia del Alcázar omeya de Córdoba y su entorno inmediato (i), in Boletín de la Real Academia de Córdoba 141 (2001), 153–176. 82 83 84

Mazzoli-Guintard, La gestión de las ciudades 203; Pinilla, Saneamiento urbano 43. Mazzoli-Guintard, Vivre à Cordoue. Pinilla, Jurisprudencia y ciudad 566–567.

216

león muñoz and montejo córdoba

Azorín, F., El alcantarillado árabe de Córdoba, in al-Mulk 2 (1961–1962), 191–194 (Publicado originalmente en 1919 en la revista Arquitectura ii). Blanco, R.S., La arquitectura doméstica tardoislámica de Qurṭuba (ss. xi–xiii), PhD diss., Córdoba 2014, available online at: https://helvia.uco.es/handle/10396/12212?lo cale‑attribute=en. Cano, J.I., Intervención Arqueológica de Urgencia C/ Manríquez, 5–7, Córdoba. Informe preliminar, Córdoba 2002, Informe inédito. Castejón, R., Córdoba califal, in Boletín de la Real Academia de Córdoba 25 (1929), 255– 339. Castejón, R., Excavaciones en el Alcázar de los califas, in al-Mulk 2 (1961–1962), 240–253. García Gómez, E., Notas sobre la topografía cordobesa en los Anales palatinos del califa de Córdoba de al-Ḥakam ii por Isà Razi, in Al-Andalus 30 (1965), 319–379. García Gómez, E., Anales Palatinos del califa de Córdoba al-Ḥakam ii, por ʿIsa Ibn Ahmad al-Razi, Madrid 1967. García Sanjuán, A., Hasta que Dios herede la Tierra. Los bienes habices en al-Andalus. Siglos x al xv, Huelva 2002. García y Bellido, J., Principios y reglas morfogenéticas de la ciudad islámica, in Qurṭuba. Estudios andalusíes 2 (1997), 59–86. García y Bellido, J., Morfogénesis de la ciudad islámica: algunas cuestiones abiertas y ciertas propuestas explicativas, in P. Cressier, M. Fierro, and J.P. Van Staëvel (eds.), L’Urbanisme dans l’Occident musulman au Moyen Âge. Aspects juridiques, Madrid 2000, 243–283. González, C. Las mezquitas de Córdoba: concepto, tipología y función urbana, PhD diss., Córdoba 2016, available online at: http://helvia.uco.es/handle/10396/13194. Ibn Ḥayyān, Al-Muqtabis v. Crónica del califa ʿAbdarraḥmān iii an-Nāṣir entre los años 912 y 942, trans., notes, and indices by Mª. J. Viguera and F. Corriente, Zaragoza 1981. Ibn Ḥayyān, Al-Muqtabis ii-1. Crónica de los emires Alḥakam i y ʿAbdarraḥmān ii entre los años 796 y 847, trans., notes, and indices by M. Alí Makki and F. Corriente, Zaragoza 2001. Hernández, F., Restauración en el molino de la Albolafia, de Córdoba, in al-Mulk 2 (1961–1962), 161–173. Lafuente Alcántara, E. (trans.), Ajbar Machmuâ [Collection of translations]: Crónica anónima del siglo xi, Madrid 1867. León, A., La Calahorra o el puente fortificado de Córdoba en época califal, in Anales de Arqueología Cordobesa 13–14 (2002–2003), 391–425. León, A., Las fortificaciones de la Córdoba Almohade, in Fortificações e Território na Península Ibérica e no Magreb (Séculos vi a xvi), Lisbon 2013, 337–354. León, A., Aportaciones de don Manuel Ocaña a la arqueología cordobesa, in Anales de Arqueología Cordobesa 25–26 (2014–2015), 213–224. León, A., Genesi e sviluppo urbano della Cordova ommayade, secoli viii–xi, in

the medina: the old city of cordoba

217

G.L. Ciotta (coord.), Al-Andalus (711–1248). Architettura e rinovamento urbano. Bilanciostoriografico e prospettive di ricerca, Milan 2017, 153–188. León, A., E. León, and J.F. Murillo, El Guadalquivir y las fortificaciones urbanas de Córdoba, in Las Fortificaciones y el mar iv: Congreso Internacional de Fortificaciones, Alcalá de Guadaira, Seville 2008, 267–276. León, A., and J.F. Murillo, El complejo civil tardoantiguo de Córdoba y su continuidad en el Alcázar Omeya, in Madrider Mitteilungen 50 (2009), 399–433. León, A., and J.F. Murillo, Advances in research on Islamic Cordoba, in Journal of Islamic archaeology 1 (2014), 5–35. Lévi-Provençal, E., El desarrollo urbano. Córdoba en el siglo x, in Historia de España de Ramón Menéndez Pidal, vol. 5: España Musulmana (711–1031), Madrid 1957, 195–255. Marfil, P., i.a.u. como apoyo a la restauración en el baño hispanomusulmán de la Pescadería de Córdoba, in Qurṭuba. Estudios andalusíes 2 (1997), 337–338. Marfil, P., Avance de resultados del estudio arqueológico de la fachada este del oratorio de Abd al-Rahman i en la Mezquita de Córdoba, in Cuadernos de Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ 4 (1999), 175–207. Marfil, P., Córdoba de Teodosio a ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii, in L. Caballero and P. Mateos (eds.), Visigodos y Omeyas. Un debate entre la Antigüedad Tardía y la Alta Edad Media (Anejos Archivo Español de Arqueología 23), Madrid 2000, 117–141. Marfil, P., Los Baños del Alcázar Califal de Córdoba: resultados de la intervención arqueológica realizada en el año 2000, in S. Gómez (coord.), El agua a través de la Historia (Asociación Arte, Arqueología e Historia), Córdoba 2004, 49–75. Marfil, P., and A. Arjona, Nuevos hallazgos arqueológicos en el entorno de la Mezquita: excavaciones en Ronda de Isasa nº 2 (Córdoba), in Boletín de la Real Academia de Córdoba 139 (2000), 114–136. Martín, C., La desaparición de las murallas de Córdoba, in Córdoba en la historia: la construcción de la urbe. Actas del Congreso, Córdoba, 1997, Córdoba 1999, 421–428. Mazzoli-Guintard, Ch., Vivre à Cordoue au Mogen Âge. Solidatirés citadines en terre d’Islam aux xe–xie siècles, Rennes 2003. Mazzoli-Guintard, Ch., Une ville en quête de surfaces à bâtir: Cordoue dans les années 1060–1070, in M. Espinar and Mª.M. García (eds.), La ciudad medieval y su territorio, i: Urbanismo, Sociedad y Economía, Cádiz 2009, 137–158. Mazzoli-Guintard, Ch., La gestión de las ciudades en al-Andalus, in D. Melo and F. Vidal (eds.), A 1300 años de la conquista de al-Andalus: historia, cultura y legado del Islam en la Península, Coquimbo 2012, 199–214. Mazzoli-Guintard, Ch., Córdoba, in ei3, 58–60. Mazzoli-Guintard, Ch., Género y arquitectura doméstica en Córdoba en el siglo xi: construcción y usos de la algorfa, in Mª.E. Díez and J. Navarro (eds.), La casa medieval en la península ibérica, Madrid 2015, 289–306. Molina, A., Intervención Arqueológica de Urgencia en la calle Tejón y Marín Nº 14 de Cór-

218

león muñoz and montejo córdoba

doba, Informe administrativo depositado en la Delegación de Cultura de Córdoba (unpublished), Córdoba 2003. Montejo, A.J., El pabellón de abluciones oriental de la Mezquita Aljama de Córdoba correspondiente a la ampliación de Almanzor, in Cuadernos de Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ 4 (1999), 209–231. Montejo, A.J., La Rauda del Alcázar de Córdoba, in Anales de Arqueología Cordobesa 17 (2006), 237–256. Montejo, A.J., and J.A. Garriguet, El ángulo suroccidental de la muralla de Córdoba, in Anales de Arqueología Cordobesa 5 (1994), 243–276. Montejo, A.J., and J.A. Garriguet, El Alcázar andalusí de Córdoba: estado de la cuestión y nuevas hipótesis, in i Congreso Internacional “Fortificaciones en al-Andalus”, Algeciras 1998, 303–332. Montejo, A.J., J.A. Garriguet, and A. Zamorano, El Alcázar andalusí de Córdoba y su entorno urbano, in Córdoba en la Historia: la construcción de la urbe. Actas del Congreso, Córdoba, 1997, Córdoba 1999, 163–172 Moreno, M., and M.L. González, Intervención Arqueológica de Urgencia en la Plaza de Maimónides, esquina C/ Cardenal Salazar de Córdoba, 1, in Anuario Arqueológico de Andalucía 1997, vol. 3, Sevilla 2001, 163–171. Muñoz, M., Los baños árabes de Córdoba, in al-Mulk 2 (1961–1962), 53–117. Murillo, J.F., Qurṭuba Califal. Origen y desarrollo de la Capital Omeya de al-Andalus, in Awraq 7 (2013), 81–103. Murillo, J.F., Mª.T. Casal, and E. Castro, Madīnat Qurṭuba. Aproximación al proceso de formación de la ciudad emiral y califal a partir de la información arqueológica, in Cuadernos de Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ 4 (2004), 257–281. Murillo, J.F., et al., Investigaciones arqueológicas en la Muralla de la Huerta del Alcázar (Córdoba), in Anejos de Anales de Arqueología Cordobesa 2 (2009–2010), 183– 230. Murillo, J.F., et al., La transición de la Civitas Clásica cristianizada a la Madina Islámica a través de las transformaciones operadas en las áreas suburbiales, in D. Vaquerizo and J.F. Murillo (eds.), El anfiteatro romano de Córdoba y su entorno urbano: Análisis arqueológico, (ss. i–xiii d.C.), vol. 2, Córdoba 2010, 503–546. Navarro, J., and P. Jiménez, Sobre la ciudad islámica y su evolución, in Estudios de arqueología dedicados a la profesora Ana María Muñoz Amilibia, Murcia 2003, 319– 381. Navarro, J., and P. Jiménez, Las ciudades de Alandalús. Nuevas perspectivas, Zaragoza 2007. Ocaña, M., Las puertas de la medina de Córdoba, in Al-Andalus 3 (1935), 143–151. Ocaña, M., Notas sobre la Córdoba de Ibn Hazm, in al-Mulk 3 (1963), 55–62. Ocaña, A., Córdoba musulmana, in Córdoba. Colonia romana, Corte de los califas, luz de Occidente, León 1975, 24–47.

the medina: the old city of cordoba

219

Ocaña, M., Córdoba: notas topográficas de Roma al Islam, in Plazas et sociabilité en Europe et Amerique Latine, Paris 1982, 39–42. Ocaña, M., El origen de la yesería andalusí a juzgar por un hallazgo olvidado, in Boletín de la Real Academia de Córdoba 106 (1984), 139–147. Ocaña, M., Panorámica sobre el arte almohade en España, in Cuadernos de la Alhambra 26 (1990), 91–112. Pinilla, R., Saneamiento urbano y medioambiente en la Córdoba islámica (siglos viii– xiii), in Las ordenanzas de limpieza de Córdoba (1498) y su proyección, Córdoba 1999, 39–54. Pinilla, R., Jurisprudencia y ciudad. Notas sobre toponimia y urbanismo en la Córdoba altomedieval extraídas de al-Aḥkām al-Kubrà de Ibn Sahl (Siglo xi), in J.C. Martín and R. Román (eds.), Actas del i Congreso Internacional las Ciudades Históricas Patrimonio y Sociabilidad, Córdoba 2000, 559–574. Pizarro, G., El alcantarillado árabe de Córdoba ii. Evidencia arqueológica del testimonio historiográfico, in Anejos de Anales de Arqueología Cordobesa 2 (2009–2010), 231–246. Pizarro, G., Los pasadizos elevados entre la Mezquita y el Alcázar Omeya de Córdoba. Estudio arqueológico de los sābāṭāt, in Archivo Español de Arqueología 86 (2013), 233–249. Pizarro, G., El abastecimiento de agua a Córdoba. Arqueología e historia, Córdoba 2014. Ruiz Bueno, M.D., Topografía, imagen y evolución urbanística de la Córdoba clásica a la tardoantigua (siglos ii–vii d.C.), PhD diss., Universidad de Córdoba, Córdoba 2016, available online at: http://helvia.uco.es/xmlui/handle/10396/14142. Ruiz Bueno, M.D., and D. Vaquerizo, Las murallas como paradigma urbano. Investigación diacrónica en Corduba (ss. ii–vii d.C.), in Cuadernos de Arqueología de la Universidad de Navarra 26 (2016), 163–192. Ruiz Nieto, E., Intervención Arqueológica Preventiva en la C/ Antonio del Castillo, 3 (Córdoba), in Anuario Arqueológico de Andalucía, 2004, vol. 1, Seville 2009, 1190– 1195. Torres Balbas, L., La Albolafia de Córdoba y la gran noria toledana, in al-Andalus 5 (1942), 195–208. Van Staëvel, J.-P., Casa, calle y vecindad en la documentación jurídica, in J. Navarro (ed.), Casas y palacios en al-Andalus, Barcelona 1995, 53–62. Van Staëvel, J.-P. Droit malikite et habitat à Tunis au xive siècle: conflits de voisinage et normes juridiques, d’après le texte du maître maçon Ibn al-Rami, El Cairo 2008. Vázquez, B., El agua en la Córdoba andalusí. Los sistemas hidráulicos de un sector del Ŷānib al-Garbī durante el Califato Omeya, in Arqueología y Territorio Medieval 20 (2013), 31–66. Velasco, R., P. Marfil, and M. Pérez, El palacio episcopal de Córdoba. Una inadvertida evidencia patrimonial, in A. Peinado (coord.), i Congreso Internacional “el patrimo-

220

león muñoz and montejo córdoba

nio cultural y natural como motor de desarrollo: investigación e innovación,” Jaén 2012, 1909–1925. Ventura, A., and S. Carmona, Resultados sucintos de la excavación arqueológica de urgencia en los solares de la calle Blanco Belmonte nº 4–6 y Ricardo de Montis 1–8, Córdoba. El trazado del cardo máximo de la Colonia Patricia Corduba, in Anales de Arqueología Cordobesa 3 (1992), 199–241. Vicent, A.Mª., Excavaciones en el Palacio Califal de Córdoba, in Bellas Artes 25 (1973), 24–25. Zanón, J., Topografía de Córdoba almohade a través de las fuentes árabes, Madrid 1989.

chapter 10

The Suburbs of the Greatest City in the West Juan Francisco Murillo Redondo and María Teresa Casal-García

In the summer of 711ce, when Mughīth al-Rūmī conquered Cordoba—leading one of the many Muslim military divisions that rapidly spread through the defeated Visigothic kingdom—the city already had a long and varied urban history. Its earliest stages correspond to the former Tartessian-Turdetan settlement (9th–2nd centuries bce), which was founded at a strategic communications crossroads located between the center and south, east and west of the Iberian Peninsula, at the exact point where the Guadalquivir became navigable and could easily be waded. And it was there, in the first half of the 2nd century bce, that Marcus Claudius Marcellus founded the new Roman city of Corduba, which was destined to become the capital of Hispania Ulterior. Refounded and expanded in the reign of Augustus, it was equipped with impressive urban furnishings, becoming a model for Hispania Baetica and of what was expected of a provincial capital: a reflection of the true greatness of Rome.1 Although the city was restricted by its walls throughout its historical development between the 1st and 4th centuries bce, it was not regarded as a separate entity with respect to the surrounding territory given the direct interrelationship via road networks and suburbs.2 In fact, the city spilled beyond the walls into the urbanized spaces on the other side due to the need for more residential housing but also via a series of functions that were expressly forbidden inside the pomerium (necropolis, hazardous industrial areas, etc.), those of a religious nature (sanctuaries), and those that represented power, whether private (suburban villae) or public (e.g., recreational buildings, such as the amphitheater or the circus). This complex and extensive patrician suburban area,3 indivisible from the developed area within the walls, was the primary object of Christianity’s transformative action. Between the 4th and 6th centuries bce, the city was given a new appearance via a network of basilicas that, with their corresponding cemeteries and, in certain cases, residential areas (vici), played an important

1 Murillo, Colonia Patricia Corduba hasta la dinastía Flavia. 2 Garriguet, El concepto de suburbium. 3 See the works in Vaquerizo and Murillo (eds.), El anfiteatro romano de Córdoba.

© J.F. Murillo Redondo and M.T. Casal-García , 2023 | doi:10.1163/9789004524156_011

222

figure 10.1

murillo redondo and casal-garcía

Madīnat Qurṭuba; second half of 8th century 1. Alcazar. 2. Great Mosque. 3. Rabaḍ Shabulār. 4. Rabaḍ Balāṭ Mughīt. 5. Rabaḍ Shaqunda. 6. Maqbarat Shaqunda. 7. Munyat al-Ruṣāfa. 8. Munyat ʿAjab. 9. Vicus Turris. 10. Vicus Furn Burril. 11. Vicus Qūt Rāshah. 12. Basilica of the Three Saints. 13. Cercadilla episcopal complex (San Acisclo?). 14. Episcopal complex of the amphitheater. 15. “Cortijo de Chinales” episcopal complex © convenio gmu-uco

role in the disarticulation of the classical urban model and its substitution by Christian civitas4 (fig. 10.1). Consequently, when the new governor, al-Ḥurr, arrived in Cordoba in 717ce with the aim of turning it into the capital of al-Andalus, he found that the madīna was already a privileged urban area and center of political and religious power, where the new elite would settle by right of conquest. He also found that it had a group of suburbs where the Christian dhimmī population was concentrated and where signs of the new times would soon be felt.5

4 Murillo et al., La transición de la civitas clásica. 5 Dhimmīs are non-Muslims who live within Islamdom and have a regulated and protected status.

the suburbs of the greatest city in the west

223

Until two decades ago, our knowledge of the suburbs of the provincial capital of the caliphate, known as Qurṭuba, was based almost exclusively on data drawn from the many Arab sources used by E. Lévi Provençal to develop his history of the capital of al-Andalus.6 The problem is that, with few exceptions, the texts were not generally primary sources. They were produced subsequent to the events they narrate and tend to use earlier narrations, with limited critique. This has led to a certain level of distrust on the part of several generations of medievalists, who have frequently criticized them as being hyperbolic and unreliable. However, archaeological research performed in Cordoba in recent decades is helping to change our opinion on this issue. A joint reading of the Arabic (and also Latin) texts, together with excavated material remains, provide us not only with a fairly accurate view of the topography of Islamic Cordoba but also with clues to the processes and times that made Madīnat Qurṭuba a major Islamic metropolis of the late 10th century. Arab authors, and to a lesser extent Latin authors, have left us lists of suburban urban centers (some prefer to use the term rabaḍ, but also vicus, (al-)munya, and balāṭ). However, they must be used with caution, as they correspond to very different moments in the urban development of Qurṭuba; from the early 8th to the first third of the 13th century. As a consequence, they also correspond to diverse realities, which have frequently been obscured by the luster of the caliphate period. The suburbs played an essential role in the configuration of an Islamized suburban landscape, extending beyond the walls of the madīna and providing their inhabitants with a lifestyle consistent with Muslim practices.7 However, beyond their residential and domestic function, the suburbs had a strong artisanal, commercial, and agricultural component, in combination with munya-style production units, which, as will be seen below, constitute the second architectural element in the design of the suburban and peri-urban landscape.8 Of the 21 arbāḍ, suburbs whose names are included in the mostcomplete lists for Cordoba provided by Ibn Bashkuwāl (1101–1183ce) and Ibn al-Khaṭīb (1313–1374ce) prior to the collapse of the caliphate at the beginning of the 11th century, nine were located west of the madīna (al-jiha al-gharbiyya), seven to the east (al-jiha al-sharqiyya), three in the northern sector (al-jiha aljawfiyya), and two in the southern sector, on the other side of the river.9 Sev6 Lévi Provençal, El desarrollo urbano. 7 Acién and Vallejo, Urbanismo y estado islámico; Murillo, Fuertes, and Luna, Aproximación al análisis; Murillo, Casal, and Castro, Madinat Qurṭuba. 8 Murillo, La almunia de al-Rusafa; Murillo, Grandes residencias suburbanas. 9 Castejón, Córdoba califal; Lévi Provençal, El desarrollo urbano 197ff.; Castelló, Descripción nueva de Córdoba musulmana; Zanón, Topografía de Córdoba almohade.

224

murillo redondo and casal-garcía

eral conclusions can be drawn from this simple listing. The first is that they were not all contemporary and did not have identical origins. Indeed, several of them bear Latin place names (Shabulār, Shaqunda) or Latin anthroponyms (Furn Burril) denoting a pre-Islamic origin. In other cases, the same suburb appears either with its Arabic or Latin name (Rabaḍ al-Burj/Vicus Turris), and ambiguous names applied to Christian suburbs (Qūt Rāsah) might be substituted by other Arab names when populated mainly by Muslims (Rabaḍ Masjid Umm Salama). In all cases, these nuances indicate the existence of a series of vici prior to the Muslim conquest, whose Christian character would either endure or change as a result of the Islamization of the Cordoban population.10 Other suburban groups take their names from large residential properties, which may appear with the name balāṭ (palace) or munya (or suburban estate). The former term denotes a Visigoth-Christian origin and the latter an Islamic one. Such is the case with the suburbs of Balāṭ Mughīth, Munyat al-Ruṣāfa, Munyat ʿAjab, Munyat ʿAbd Allāh, and Munyat al-Mughīra. A third group is made up of suburbs whose names derive from links with mosques or baths, indicating the progress of Islamization in the suburban sectors of Madīnat Qurṭuba: Masjid Umm Salama, Masjid al-Shifāʾ, Masjid Masrūr, Masjid al-Qahf, and al-Shifāʾ. The fourth group is defined by topographical relationships to specific landmarks in the madīna (Rabaḍ Bāb al-Yahūd, Rabaḍ al-Rawḍa), by proximity to Madīnat al-Zāhira (Rabaḍ al-Zāhira) or to important buildings, such as the “Old Prison” (Rabaḍ hawānīt al-rayḥān). Lastly, a fifth category refers to the activities performed in the suburbs, such as Rabaḍ hawānīt al-rayḥān (of the perfumers), Rabaḍ al-Raqqāqīn (of the parchmenters), and Vicus Tiraceorum (of the weavers). Current research has enabled us to identify seven stages in the development of the suburban and peri-urban areas of Qurṭuba. The first stage (711–756ce) corresponds to the years between Mughīth’s conquest of the city and ʿAbd alRaḥmān i’s rise to power. It is characterized by its continuity with respect to the pre-Islamic situation and defined by a group of suburban basilicas (St. Acisclus, St. Zoilus, Three Saints, etc.), cemeteries, and vici that surrounded the city. According to the circumstances surrounding the taking of Cordoba, it is reasonable to assume that the right of conquest was applied despite a group of Visigoth nobles who tried to resist defeat by entrenching themselves in one of its suburban basilicas. This legitimized the Muslim military elites’ occupation and appropriation of homes and properties belonging to the defeated and those who fled.11 This would also have been the case for the properties in the 10 11

León and Murillo, Las comunidades dhimmis cristianas. Murillo, Casal, and Castro, Madinat Qurṭuba.

the suburbs of the greatest city in the west

225

sector bordering the river belonging to the former local nobility with close ties to the last Visigothic king, such as the balāṭ-s or Palatia of Ludrīq, Mughīth, and al-Ḥurr, as well as al-Ruṣāfa’s predecessor northwest of the madīna. It has been suggested that something similar would have happened with the properties belonging to the church, the sector of the walled episcopal complex,12 although the institution must have kept a good number of its possessions, as evidenced by its loyal collaboration with the emirs until well into the 9th century. As a consequence of this process, much of the Hispanic-Visigothic population had to move from intramural properties to suburban residences located next to basilicas that upheld Christian worship.13 These residential areas, or vici, were located in the same areas as those during the Hispano-Visigoth period (fig. 10.2): Vicus Turris and Rabaḍ Furn Burril were located east of the madīna in the vicinity of the Basilica of the Three Saints, and Rabaḍ Qūt Rāshah to the northeast. On the western side outside the walls, around the cultural complex of Cercadilla and the old amphitheater, other residential centers linked to the Basilica of San Acisclo were developed, which have been excavated in recent decades.14 The process of Islamization in suburban areas began with the waliate of alḤurr (716–719ce) and the designation of Cordoba as the capital of al-Andalus. In fact, one of the first measures taken by the new governor was to allocate housing in the Shabulār suburb to some of the 400 Ifrīqiya dignitaries who formed his retinue.15 This rabaḍ, irrefutably one of the earliest Islamic settlements, extended from Bāb al-Ḥadīd along an old road flanked by necropolises that had been in use since Roman times to south of the Basilica of the Three Saints and the Mozarabic suburb of Vicus Turris. Over time, this road would lead to an important commercial street that crossed the suburb, al-zuqāq alkabīr, where two mosques were built.16 The first is on the site of the later parish church of San Nicolás in the Axerquía neighborhood, and the second on the site of the church of Santiago, whose minaret (manāra) is still preserved and could probably be identified with the Masjid ʿĀmir Hishām. Both the Latin name (Shabulār = sandy) and the fact, as mentioned above, that housing was provided to al-Ḥurr’s troops indicate the character of this first Islamic settle-

12 13 14 15 16

León and Murillo, El complejo civil tardoantiguo de Córdoba. León and Murillo, Las comunidades dhimmis cristianas. Hidalgo and Fuertes, Córdoba, entre la antigüedad clásica; Murillo et al., La transición de la civitas clásica. Molina, Familias andalusíes. González, Las mezquitas de barrio.

figure 10.2

Urban structure of excavated sectors in the Shaqunda suburb; second half of the 7th century to 818ce © convenio gmu-uco

226 murillo redondo and casal-garcía

the suburbs of the greatest city in the west

227

ment. It is located near one of the gates closest to the nerve center of the new political and religious power of the city and was built over the area previously occupied by the Basilica of San Vicente and the palace of the Visigoth governor. A few years later the new wālī al-Samḥ (719–721 ce), sent directly by Caliph ʿUmar ii, arrived in Cordoba with military reinforcements and the mission to continue to expand Islam beyond the Pyrenees. His first action consisted in repairing the bridge, for which, according to Arab sources, he used materials from the wall, which might be indicative of the limited organization of the infrastructures at that time. In 720ce he founded the rabaḍ cemetery on the other side of the river, as well as an annexed muṣalla, elements that verify a settled Muslim community in the capital. This foundation might have been the starting point for the appearance of a small urban center next to the bridge in the vicinity of the pre-Islamic qarya or vicus of Shaqunda. However, we lack textual or archaeological evidence to confirm this, and the complicated context that characterizes the period from the death of al-Samḥ in battle in 721 ce to the arrival of the wālī ‘Uqba b. al-Ḥājj al-Salūlī (734–741ce), which saw a succession of no less than ten governors, does not lend support to the theory. The same could apply to the period after 740ce, which was characterized by the Berber rebellion, first in Ifrīqiya and then in al-Andalus, and by the civil war between the various Arab factions that followed the arrival of the Syrian troops of Balj b. Bishr al-Qushayrī in 741ce. The main episodes of this conflict were fought near Cordoba in the battles of Aqua Portora in 742ce and Shaqunda in 747ce, from which Yūsuf b. ʿAbd al-Raḥmān al-Fihrī (747–756ce), the last wālī in al-Andalus to recognize the Abbasid caliph’s authority, emerged victorious.17 Significantly, after the battle, Shaqunda was given the name qarya, the same name given to it in 711 at the time of the conquest. However, shortly after the victory of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān b. Muʿāwiya over al-Fihrī, by 756, Shaqunda already had a Muslim population, evidenced by the looting of a house belonging to an individual called Ṣumayl.18 This sequence of events could indicate that the suburb’s origin lies in the settlement of the demobilized and/or active military followers of al-Fihrī, who were deployed to ensure control of the capital. Subsequently, when the new Umayyad emirate of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān i (756–788) was established, Shaqunda experienced continuous growth, especially after the reconstruction of the bridge by Emir Hishām i (788–796) and the nearby construction of the Munyat Dār al-Mulk, which formed an annex outside the fortress walls and was

17 18

Chalmeta, Invasión e islamización. Murillo, Casal, and Castro, Madinat Qurṭuba.

228

murillo redondo and casal-garcía

the residence for several crown princes before their ascent to the throne. The structure and development of the suburb already displayed distinct Islamic characteristics between 756 and 818, which enables us to define the second stage in the development of Qurṭuba’s suburbs. Excavations at the bend of the Guadalquivir at Miraflores, near the bridge, have documented more than two hectares of the Shaqunda suburb, whose existence was cut short in 818 when the so-called “suburb mutiny” led to its destruction by the troops of Emir al-Ḥakam i (796–822), as well as numerous deaths and executions, the deportation and exile of inhabitants, and the notorious ban on its future repopulation, a precept faithfully followed by all Umayyad emirs and caliphs. The first element to highlight regarding the planning of the suburb is the remarkable homogeneity of the building and preservation of land distribution that can be observed even after periodic reconstructions motivated by the violent flooding of the Guadalquivir. Four building phases can be identified due to the flooding. Of the four, the excavated surface area of the first and second phases has not been fully documented. Both phases correspond to the suburb’s foundation, around the middle of the 8th century, and to the first reconstruction after a violent flood that can only be dated to sometime around the second half of the 8th century. This could perhaps be related to the flooding that seriously damaged the bridge in 777–778 and led to its restoration by Hishām i in 793. The suburb’s third phase is marked by new destruction and subsequent reconstruction, possibly after the great flood of 798–799, and constitutes the maximum expansion of Shaqunda before its final destruction and abandonment in 818. However, a fourth phase, consisting of various reforms and alterations, can still be distinguished in several of the spaces occupied by the previous stage. The structure of the suburb (fig. 10.2) consisted of several clearly defined housing blocks intersected by main streets that are three–six meters wide, usually built on an orthogonal grid, from where secondary roads or cul-desacs (dirāb) branched off to facilitate access to the properties located inside the blocks.19 Several open spaces have also been documented in the form of squares, where communal wells were located for the supply of water. Houses were organized around a large central space; a diaphanous and multifunctional courtyard reminiscent of the descriptions of the Prophet’s house in the city of Medina, around which one or more bays were built that grouped together a number of covered rooms. Until now, and in contrast to what would be char-

19

Casal, Características generales del urbanismo cordobés.

the suburbs of the greatest city in the west

229

acteristic of domestic structures in subsequent centuries,20 it has not been possible to assign specific functions to the rooms beyond that of recreation and food preparation. The characteristics of the constructions, ceramic artifacts,21 and animal waste generated by the inhabitants of the suburb, confirm their complete integration in habitual Islamic routines. In several middens a wide variety of animals belonging to species used for food (meat, eggs, and milk) and manufacturing products (wool, skins, and bones) have been documented. The consumption of sheep, goats, cattle, and birds clearly follows Islamic culinary habits,22 while none of the excavated contexts of Shaqunda document the slightest evidence of the consumption of pork, which is expressly prohibited in several suras (chapters) of the Quran. In addition, other independent studies of middens also confirm the characteristic Muslim attributes of the suburb’s population from the moment it was first occupied. The residents could have been demobilized soldiers from the civil war that had devastated al-Andalus in the mid-8th century. The Islamic culinary habits of the inhabitants were clearly differentiated from those of the Christian population and, possibly, the first muwallads.23 Furthermore, the extension the suburb covered in just over six decades is tangible evidence of the intense urban development Qurṭuba experienced after the proclamation of the independent emirate by ʿAbd al-Raḥmān i. This foreshadowed the success of an Islamization project capable of attracting people from the surrounding area under the protection of the capital of the still emerging al-Andalus state, and these people settled in urban centers where an effective process of integration and Islamization would develop.24 While the uprising of 818 curtailed the formation of what seemed to be the main suburb of Qurṭuba, other emerging suburbs soon took its place to become recipients of the city’s demographic growth and clear exponents of Islamization throughout the 9th century.25 The roots of this third stage lie somewhere between the repression of Qurʼān rebellion and the proclamation of the Caliphate of Cordoba by ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii in 929, around the reign of the first Umayyad of al-Andalus. Indeed, after seizing power in the Western Islamic world and breaking ties with the new Abbasid Caliphate by founding a

20 21 22 23 24 25

Murillo, Fuertes, and Luna, Aproximación al análisis. Casal et al., Aproximación al estudio de la cerámica. Casal, Martínez, and Araque, Estudio de los vertederos domésticos. Christians or (other) native Iberians who converted to Islam when the Muslims arrived in the peninsula. Acién and Vallejo, Urbanismo y estado islámico. León and Murillo, Advances in research. Murillo, Casal, and Castro, Madinat Qurṭuba.

230

murillo redondo and casal-garcía

“neo-Umayyad” state, ʿAbd al-Raḥmān i al-Dākhil left his indelible mark on the urban future of Cordoba by means of a three-pronged construction program that could be described as “dynastic” given its longevity and the involvement of his heirs.26 Seeking the ideological legitimization of the dynasty, he transformed the capital of al-Andalus into a “new Damascus.” Two of these “dynastic buildings” lie inside the madīna and are none other than the alcazar and The Great Mosque.27 However, it must be taken into account that Qurṭuba’s and al-Andalus’s seats of political and religious power were only the object of the emir’s attention in the final stages of his life, when he began remodeling the alcazar in 785 and built the first mosque in 786. At this precise moment he considered his position to be sufficiently secured, and both buildings highlight what would become the core of Umayyad ideological discourse: the intimate union of politics and religion in the person of the emir, which materialized in the mosque, where the community gathered for Friday prayer, and in his own residence and seat of power. This union would be physically reaffirmed through the construction of the first sābāṭ in the time of Emir ʿAbd Allāh (888– 912).28 Together with the above, the third great creation of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān i would be the Munyat al-Ruṣāfa. Located less than two kilometers northwest of the walls of Cordoba, the estate was converted into his habitual residence until he moved to the alcazar of Cordoba in the last years of his reign. With the foundation of this munya, the emir introduced a type of agricultural exploitation and accumulation of surpluses to Cordoba that, although supported by local hydraulic infrastructures of Roman origin,29 reproduced a Syrian prototype with clear Umayyad connotations. The production model and the typological characteristics of its construction is a clear reference to the group of Umayyad buildings distributed throughout present-day Syria and Jordan, traditionally known as “desert castles” (fig. 10.3). As recent research has highlighted, this term is not only imprecise, but also misleading, as it masks the functional duality of these architectural complexes integrated in extensive properties intended for the residence, recreation, and comfort of their owners, caliphs, and other members of the Umayyad family, and for the exploitation of an irrigated agricultural space.30 In identical terms, the Cordoban munan were defined by one of the greatest connoisseurs of Andalusi texts as: “a country house, sur-

26 27 28 29 30

Murillo, Qurṭuba Califal. León and Murillo, El complejo civil tardoantiguo de Córdoba. Pizarro, Los pasadizos elevados. Murillo, La almunia de al-Rusafa. Murillo, La almunia de al-Rusafa; Murillo, Grandes residencias suburbanas.

figure 10.3

Al-Ruṣāfa almunia founded by Emir ʿAbd al-Raḥmān i in 756, which reproduced a Syrian prototype similar to al-Zaytūna in Resafa-Hishām. Several small munan, an early suburb, and a cemetery were established in the area in the 9th century © convenio gmu-uco

the suburbs of the greatest city in the west

231

232

figure 10.4

murillo redondo and casal-garcía

Mid-9th century Madīnat Qurṭuba. 1. Alcazar. 2. Great Mosque. 3. Rabaḍ Shabulār. 4. Rabaḍ Balāṭ Mughīth. 5. Almunia and suburb of Reina Sofía Hospital. 6. Almunia, suburb, mosque, and cemetery of Naranjal de Almagro. 7. Almunia, suburb, and cemetery of Fontanar de Cabanos. 9. Rabad al-Burj (Vicus Turris). 10. Rabaḍ Furn Burril. 11. Rabaḍ Qūt Rāshah. 13. Cercadilla suburb (San Acisclo?). 14. Suburb of the amphitheater © convenio gmu-uco

rounded by a little or large garden and farmland, which served as an occasional residence, and was, at the same time, a farm for recreation and exploitation.”31 After its foundation, al-Ruṣāfa would serve as a model for the munan created by successive emirs and by other figures directly associated with the Umayyad family. Sometimes they would involve the foundation of a waqf or ḥubūs for benevolent and charitable purposes, around which, as will be seen below, new suburbs eventually emerged (fig. 10.4). Probably the oldest and most illustrative example of this process is the munya founded by ʿAjab, one of al-Ḥakam i’s concubines, who gave her name to the munya and a mosque located on the banks of the river to the west of the madīna. According to Ibn Ḥayyān32 the munya was “given by her as a pious legacy for the ailing,” and a 31 32

García Gómez, Notas sobre la topografía cordobesa 334. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabis ii-1,93.

the suburbs of the greatest city in the west

233

nearby leprosarium was supported by the income obtained from its exploitation. Around Munyat ʿAjab, on the other side of the river and beyond Shaqunda, a suburb and a cemetery emerged on both sides of the al-raṣīf (cobblestone road) that led to Seville and Cadiz, similar to al-Ruṣāfa, where suburban centers and a cemetery were built in the 9th century along the roads that connected it with the madīna.33 Thus, when ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii’s reign began, the rebellion and destruction of the populous and early Islamized Shaqunda suburb had already put an end to a haphazardly planned and developed model of suburban implantation on land that might originally have belonged to the state. From then on, the construction of the suburbs would follow a differentiated but unifying theme: on the one hand, the Mozarabic vici near the Christian sanctuaries were in constant decline throughout the 9th century, and on the other, urban centers emerged in the shadow of the large munya-style peri-urban properties, next to the roads that linked them to the city. In fact, as opposed to the previous model, with suburban centers at a few hundred meters from the city gates, recent archaeological research shows that towards the middle of the 9th century there were emerging suburbs located more than a thousand meters from the western gates of the madīna. They developed under the protection of large munan and formed small urban centers with low-level urbanization. Arabic texts have given us the names of more than 30 Cordovan munan,34 and archaeology has provided us with material evidence for 50,35 several of which have been identified with the foundational stages of the emirate (fig. 10.4: Al1, Al2, Al3, Al4, Al7, Al8, Al10, Al11, Al12, Al13, Al14, Al15, Al16, Al24, and Al45). We have already mentioned the suburb and cemetery of al-Ruṣāfa located to the southeast of the munya created by ʿAbd alRaḥmān i and documented from relatively early in the 9th century.36 The same process has been observed in several sectors of the suburb excavated in Jānib al-Gharbī and in the area known as the Naranjal (orange grove) of Almagro (fig. 10.4: Al13), where 2,000 meters from the city’s nearest gate a suburb was established next to a large munya-style building. It was endowed with a mosque (which dates to ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii’s period), a ḥammām, and a cemetery.37 At 1,500 meters to the southwest of the madīna wall, in an area known as Fontanar de Cabanos, the situation is repeated again; another munya (fig. 10.4:

33 34 35 36 37

Murillo, Casal, and Castro, Madinat Qurṭuba. López Cuevas, La almunia cordobesa. Murillo, Grandes residencias suburbanas. Murillo, La almunia de al-Rusafa; Murillo, Grandes residencias suburbanas. Murillo, Casal, and Castro, Madinat Qurṭuba.

234

murillo redondo and casal-garcía

Al14) endowed with a large emirate building structured in three courtyards, a cemetery to the north, and a suburb to the south. These examples and several others point to a process whereby population groups, possibly dhimmī in origin and soon to become muwallad, were linked to the productive activities developed in the peri-urban munan belonging to the Muslim elite. These emerging suburbs, established at the end of the 8th century and developed throughout the 9th century, rapidly began to furnish themselves with the necessary communitarian trappings required for their integration into the Muslim lifestyle. This opened the door for the emirs of Cordoba, their family members, and other associated high-ranking individuals to intervene via their charitable work. Mosques and cemeteries became the favorite objectives of charitable foundations, which, while responding to already existing needs, were an important factor in the urbanization and Islamization of the suburbs’ future development,38 some of which, as we have seen above, took the name of their benefactor. The list begins with the mosque and cemeteries of Mutʿa, and the mosque of ʿAjab, both wives of al-Ḥakam i. During the reign of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii, the cemetery and mosque of Muʾammara, and the mosques of Ṭarūb—al-Shifāʾ—Fakhr, all wives of the emir, were already built, as well as the masjid Masrūr, erected at the request of this important court individual. Lastly, during the reign of Emir Muḥammad i, the cemetery and mosque of Umm Salama were built, which, unlike the previous ones, was not located in Jānib al-Gharbi but north of the madīna ( Jānib al-Jawfiyya). This intense building and welfare activity linked to the circle closest to the emir was not accidental. It was directly related to two events. First, the arrival of a population from a relatively nearby hinterland of the al-Andalus capital.39 Second, the profound reorganization of the state, which went from an Umayyad model based on obtaining agricultural income from the Mozarabic population to another clearly inspired by the Abbasid Caliphate and based on the generation of wealth by an essentially urban Muslim population. Simultaneously, the combination of urban expansion and Islamization would be the origin and result of the definitive collapse of the pre-Islamic property structure and the consequent disappearance of the Mozarabic aristocracy. Moreover, the progressive substitution of direct taxation on the dhimmīs—at the moment their status changed to that of muwalladūn—for other formulas, in order to transfer wealth to the state and to the Arab aristocracy, led to an impasse. Feel-

38 39

Murillo, Casal, and Castro, Madinat Qurṭuba. Acién and Vallejo, Urbanismo y estado islámico.

the suburbs of the greatest city in the west

235

ing betrayed by the lack of fulfilment of many of the pacts established at the time of the conquest,40 the secular and Christian elites reacted by means of the “passive resistance” instigated by the “Martyrs of Cordoba” movement and participation in the generalized revolts against the Cordoban authorities, which marked the fitna of the last decades of the 9th and the first decades of the 10th century.41 During this turbulent period, excluding exceptional circumstances, such as the razzia lead by ʿUmar b. Ḥafṣūn on Cordoba in 890–891, the Umayyad capital was kept safe from revolts and became the main stronghold of the Umayyad state. Although the archaeological evidence has so far failed to document any traumatic situations in the evolution of suburban areas, it has revealed the creation of new munan, as in the case of al-Naʿūra, founded by Emir ʿAbd Allāh i, whose reign marked the lowest point of Cordoban rule. It would be his grandson and successor, ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii al-Nāṣir, who, beginning in 912, would put an end to decades of instability and restore the authority of the emirs of Cordoba. In 929, he became the self-proclaimed caliph of al-Andalus, which led to a new and more intense impulse for the urban development of the capital of the new caliphate. This marks a fourth stage in the evolution of Cordoba’s suburban areas that would last until the death of al-Ḥakam ii in 976. Up until then, its suburban landscape had been characterized by an emerging multicenter development, with the foci of Muslim and Christian populations in a growing process of differentiation.42 They were distributed in a peri-urban environment that did not extend beyond two kilometers of the madīna walls along the road network, in a space dominated by orchards and farmland. According to Arab sources, in the second half of the 10th century, the suburbs would experience an expansion and densification process that would weave the urban fabric of Qurṭuba to give it the appearance of an urban agglomeration.43 A particularly relevant milestone for this period was the foundation of Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ in 936, which served as the definitive impetus for Qurṭuba’s expansion towards the west. Ibn Ḥawqal states that during this period a residential neighborhood was developed, and expanded almost uninterruptedly, between the capital and the new abode of the caliphs. In this conurbation of the suburbs of Cordoba with the palatine city of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii (fig. 10.5), the road network played a pivotal role. Roman roads were restored, and oth40 41 42 43

Manzano, Conquistadores, emires y califas. Acién, Entre el feudalismo y el islam. León and Murillo, Las comunidades dhimmis cristianas. Murillo, Qurṭuba Califal.

236

figure 10.5

murillo redondo and casal-garcía

Early 11th-century Madīnat Qurṭuba. Locations of Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ and Madīnat alZāhira, with their urban areas of Jiha al-Gharbiyya and Jiha al-Jawfiyya © convenio gmu-uco

ers were created ex professo to connect with the old capital.44 They were paved and equipped with their corresponding bridges, such as the bridges located in the Camino de los Nogales and the Cañito de María Ruiz along the “camino de las almunias.” The building and maintenance of the road network clearly highlights the intervention of the al-Andalus state in the urban planning of the city. As a driving force for growth and a structuring element behind the many suburbs, the main road represented the epitome par excellence of Umayyad rule. It accommodated the main public buildings and community facilities, the greatest volume of traffic, and, in short, profited from the grand official preparations deployed for the transfer of the court and retinue between Qurṭuba and Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ. In contrast to the state intervention in the main arteries, the street network and traffic flow in the suburbs, although nominally under the ownership of the umma and the authority of the ṣāḥib al-madīna and other officials, remained in

44

Murillo, Casal, and Castro, Madinat Qurṭuba.

the suburbs of the greatest city in the west

237

the sphere of private initiative. As a result, instead of becoming a testament to the incompetence of the authorities and the variability of land plots, Sauvaget’s interpretation of Islamic urbanism, reproduced in Spain by Torres Balbás,45 suggests that the hierarchical, tree-shaped network of Islamic streets would, to a large extent, correspond to “precise spatial representations and coherent social concerns, which order the streets and above all their use in a logical system, consistent with Arab-Muslim civilization.”46 In recent decades, archaeological excavations in the outskirts of Qurṭuba have been providing us with a significant and complex image of these public spaces. A first observation, in line with that presented above, is that the main arteries and secondary streets, as well as the adarves (durūb), do not correspond to any preestablished norm in terms of layout, width, paving, or infrastructure. As a consequence, even on major roads, such as that going from Bāb Ishbīliya through Rabaḍ Balāṭ Mughīth to the western munan located near the river and continuing to Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, it can be observed how building façades rest on pavements and appropriate parts of the road. They do not maintain a strict alignment or an exact parallel layout on either side of the street. A similar situation can be seen on the road in the southwestern sector of the suburb of Bāb Ishbīliya, which is more than 14 meters wide at some points, and in some places the stone slab paving was replaced by gravel and rubble agglutinated with sand and lime. In certain cases, the streets, and especially the adarves (durūb), did not maintain a standard width and present numerous entrances and exits that are not only due to the appropriation of public space by private individuals but also to the fact that the streets had to adapt, in many cases in advance, to the disposition of building façades or even the land plots on which they would subsequently be built. In contrast, other suburban sectors had blocks that were perfectly aligned to a standard road and equipped with water channeling infrastructures. Once the streets were operational, there would be frequent intrusions into their space by market stalls, overhangs, and cesspits where neighboring houses would dispose of their waste. This practice adhered to the absolute preeminence given by prominent Andalusi Maliki jurists to the “right of use.” This purported that every neighbor was free to use their own goods, shape their domestic space, and even intrude on community space as they saw fit, with the only limitation of not infringing on the legitimate rights of passersby. Although we are not currently in a position to evaluate the precise pace that marked the development of each of the western suburbs of Madīnat 45 46

Sauvaget, Le plan antique de Damas; Torres Balbás, Ciudades hispanomusulmanas. Van Staevel, Casa, calle y vecindad.

238

figure 10.6

murillo redondo and casal-garcía

Urban structure in the Jiha al-Gharbiyya suburb. The plan corresponds to the excavation in the present-day Zoco neighborhood, and the photos are of the excavation of the Poniente public swimming pool and the Biomedical Research Centre © convenio gmu-uco

Qurṭuba during this stage of the caliphate, we do have insight as to the final result. It presents a network of half-urban half-suburban structures in which extensive domestic areas alternate47 with community facilities, such as baths and mosques,48 large necropolises,49 industrial facilities,50 and other infrastructures. Archaeological research provides a macrospatial approach, which enables us to refine the image that previously could only be drawn from written sources, and meso- and microspatial analyses of suburbs that display sophisticated urban planning. Figure 10.6 shows a hierarchical layout of relatively systematic streets that, in some cases, have a complex infrastructure for the

47 48 49 50

Dortez, Urbanismo islámico. González, Las mezquitas de barrio. Casal, Los cementerios musulmanes; León and Casal, Los cementerios. Cano, León, and Salinas, La industria medieval de Córdoba.

the suburbs of the greatest city in the west

239

drainage of rain and waste water,51 private and public baths,52 large open and paved spaces that could be interpreted as souks or suburban markets,53 and quite possibly warehouses.54 In addition, there is a group of houses of different sizes, qualities, and number of storys, but always built around a central courtyard.55 Beyond the suburbs and in some cases enclosed within them as a consequence of urban growth,56 an increasing number of munan have been found which had been in use for generations, such as al-Ruṣāfa and al-Naʻūra; authentic peri-urban “fortresses” belonging to the ruling powers. Other later cases, such as al-Rumaniyya, were attributed to an initiative of a high-ranking court figure, Durrī, who was al-Ḥakam ii’s treasurer. The origin of many of these new caliphal arbāḍ, which occupied the empty spaces between the emirate’s arbāḍ, differs from the stage explained previously. Given that Islamization had already achieved its objectives in a city with a population that was, by this time, mostly Muslim, from the reign of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii onwards, state action would be directed at very different objectives from those of the 9th-century emirs. To begin with, massive urbanization would have a huge impact on the belt of old peri-urban munan. Subsequently, rather than a series of actions—whether directed or spontaneous and relatively distended in time and space—we find a process commanded by what we might call a “real estate market,” with “promoters” who proceeded to divide the land, open roads, provide community infrastructures, and even build houses. Although the known literary sources do not implicitly mention this, some references could be interpreted as such. Ibn Ḥayyān mentions strong opposition from the indolent and nominal Caliph Hishām ii to the attempt by his ḥājib, Jaʿfar al-Muṣḥafī, to build a new neighborhood on the site of the ruined and “cursed” suburb of Shaqunda.57 This objective, although frustrated, is illustrative of the participation of Cordoba’s elites, including members of the Umayyad family, in the flourishing real estate business of a capital city in which the demand for housing seems to have been intense during the second half of the 10th century. As a result, the housing built by high dignitaries on their 51 52 53 54 55 56 57

Cánovas, Castro, and Moreno, Análisis de los espacios domésticos; Vázquez, El agua en la Córdoba andalusí. Clapés, Un baño privado. Fuertes, Aproximación al urbanismo. Clapés, La actividad comercial de Córdoba. Murillo, Fuertes, and Luna, Aproximación al análisis; Castro, El arrabal de época califal; Fuertes, Aproximación al urbanismo; Murillo et al., Los arrabales del sector septentrional. Murillo, Grandes residencias suburbanas. Murillo, Casal, and Castro, Madinat Qurṭuba.

240

murillo redondo and casal-garcía

almunias, which was assigned to the residential areas included in the corresponding suburb, might have given rise to a greater regularity and a certain standardization of properties, many of which would be marked for renting.58 A good example of this type of initiative can be found to the west of the suburb of al-Ruṣāfa,59 where several rectangular blocks of houses have been excavated. They all had very similar dimensions, typological characteristics, and building styles. Façades were east-west facing and began and ended in another series of north-south facing streets (fig. 10.7). A later phase in the urban development experienced by the Cordoban agglomeration was determined by the construction of the new palatine city of Madīnat al-Zāhira beginning in 978, after the usurpation by Ibn Abī Amīr, better known as al-Manṣūr, after the death of Caliph al-Ḥakam ii, whose only heir was his infant son Hishām ii. This event marks a fifth stage in the evolution of the suburbs of Qurṭuba. This stage is defined by the urbanization of the vacant plots located between the furthest suburbs to the east of Qurṭuba and the amiral foundation. The site was located to the east of the Arenal meander, beyond the course of the Pedroche stream over which at least three bridges would be built to link the roads between Madīnat al-Zāhira and Cordoba. Remains of the Madīnat al-Zāhira suburb have been documented in various excavations (fig. 10.5), revealing characteristics very similar to those of Jānib al-Gharbī. This short-lived urban center was occupied by the residences of the elites linked to the al-Manṣūr regime. Madīnat al-Zāhira, with its walls, lavish fortress, palaces, and the Great Mosque, would play a similar role to that of the palatine city of al-Nasir in confirming the amiral dictator and his descendants’ lust for power against the legitimate Umayyad dynasty. Although the rightful heirs were still represented by Caliph Hishām ii, he was first imprisoned in Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ and later in the Alcázar of Cordoba. Moreover, from the perspective of evolution and transformation, Madīnat al-Zāhira would have a similar end to that of the suburbs of Madīnat Qurṭuba, in line with the developments that had been taking place in the Abbasid world since the 9th century. When al-Manṣūr died in 1002, Qurṭuba was an enormous conurbation that extended along a ten-kilometer northeast–southwest axis parallel to the right bank of the Guadalquivir and covered an area of more than 5,000 hectares. In terms of comparative size to the main metropolises of the time, from the Atlantic to the Indian Oceans, it was on a par with Samarra and Baghdad (fig. 10.8), the still flourishing capitals

58 59

Cano, Jurisprudencia andalusí. Murillo et al., Los arrabales del sector septentrional.

figure 10.7

Urban structure and large house in the western sector of Rabaḍ al-Ruṣāfa © convenio gmu-uco

the suburbs of the greatest city in the west

241

242

figure 10.8

murillo redondo and casal-garcía

Early 11th-century Cordoba urban agglomeration, comparable in size to the Iraqi capitals of Bagdad and Samarra

of a weakened Abbasid Caliphate, while other cities, including Cairo under the Fatimid Caliphate, were somewhat smaller. The internal contradictions within al-Andalus’s caliphal system, highlighted by the death of al-Ḥakam ii, and the failure of Almanzor’s military dictatorship, led to the “great fitna of al-Andalus.” As a consequence, the Umayyad Caliphate collapsed and fragmented into a series of “Taifa kingdoms” whose internal struggles for power marked the entire 11th century until the fall of al-Andalus into the realm of expansive politics of the North African empires; first the Almoravid dynasty and then the Almohad Caliphate. For Cordoba, the second fitna, unleashed from 1011 onwards, led to immense suffering that saw the end not only of the two palatine cities of Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ and Madīnat al-Zāhira but also the magnificent “fortresses” built in the opulent munan and many of the suburbs. They were abandoned and stripped of everything of value. Many suburbs were depopulated, with the exception of some in the Jānib alSharqī quarter. They had been hastily fortified in the 11th century60 which led 60

León and Murillo, Advances in research.

the suburbs of the greatest city in the west

243

to their survival and to them becoming the second urban sector of Cordoba, al-Sharqiyya. This takes us to the sixth stage in the evolution of the suburbs of Madīnat Qurṭuba between 1011 and 1162, which was marked by a generalized state of crisis and abandonment in suburban areas. What had been up until then an immense urban conurbation retreated into a huge, frequently besieged, fortified city covering almost 200 hectares. Gone were its days of glory and splendour as the seat of al-Andalus’s emirate and caliphate. Archaeology has uncovered a desolate image of the suburban and periurban environment of Cordoba, which was reduced to funerary functions and manufacturing activities, such as pottery, which could not easily be accommodated within the walls. Given the evidence from the area in front of the Ronda del Marrubial wall, there is a possibility that once the situation stabilized after the creation of the Cordoban Taifa under the rule of Banū Jahwar (1031–1070), the diminished dhimmī population remaining in the city might have reoccupied its traditional vici located in the outskirts of the northern suburbs. The hasty fortification of al-Sharqiyya deliberately left the houses inhabited by Christians outside the city.61 In turn, a rather precise extract written by Ibn Sahl referring to Jiha al-Gharbiyya, in which he mentions a cemetery, two suburbs, and three mosques, seems to suggest—if indeed it refers to the 11th century62— that the abandonment of the caliphal outskirts might not have been as complete as originally thought. The group of houses excavated in the underground car park in Avenida de La Libertad (fig. 10.9: C) could possibly correspond to this. One in particular, which was built around a large central courtyard with a swimming pool and destroyed at the end of the 11th century, is especially noteworthy.63 Although extremely diminished with respect to the situation in the 10th century, a certain continuity in the industrial activities must have been maintained in the northern outskirts of the city (fig. 10.9: F). This went hand in hand with the resumed exploitation of munan and orchards whose character, often as inalienable charitable endowments, would guarantee their permanence as soon as conditions would allow. The relative political stability and security enjoyed by al-Andalus as part of the Almoravid Empire must have had some impact on the city and the vastly impoverished suburban areas. However, both written and archaeological sources are extremely rare for the first half of the 12th century. The situation changed after the collapse of the Almoravid dynasty, owing to the “Almohad revolt,” and the establishment of the new caliphate, first in North Africa and 61 62 63

León and Murillo, Las comunidades dhimmis cristianas. Pinilla, Jurisprudencia y ciudad. León and Blanco, La fitna y sus consecuencias.

244

figure 10.9

murillo redondo and casal-garcía

Suburbs of the late 12th-century Madīnat Qurṭuba: A. Bāb ʿĀmir. B. Cercadilla. C. Avenida de la Libertad. D. Bāb al-Yahūd. E. Valdeolleros. F. Ollerías. G. Plasencia Gate. H. Baeza Gate © convenio gmu-uco

then in al-Andalus. During the first stages of the new era, Qurṭuba, which still retained great symbolic and ideological importance, would play a critical role. As part of the last formidable attempt by the Almohad caliphs to implement political unity in what was still left of al-Andalus in order to safeguard it against the southward expansion of the peninsula’s Christian kingdoms, in 1162 it fleetingly recovered its status as capital of al-Andalus. This event led to the seventh and final stage in the evolution and transformation of the suburban areas of Madīnat Qurṭuba; from 1162 until the fall of the city into the hands of the Castilian monarchy in 1236. In the shadow of the new Almohad capital, Seville, Cordoba would witness an urban revitalization of which written sources,64 such as archaeological research, provide abundant data.65 The process is evident as far as the fortifications of the city are con64 65

Zanón, Topografía de Córdoba almohade. León and Blanco, La fitna y sus consecuencias.

the suburbs of the greatest city in the west

245

cerned; defenses that extend beyond the limits of the madīna, with the fortress controlling access to the bridge in the south of the old Shaqunda neighborhood. In turn, it was surrounded by the now enlarged cemetery of the Arrabal and a small inhabited area, which are also documented.66 Another rammedearth wall was erected to the southwest of the madīna, in the sector previously occupied by the suburb of Balāṭ Mughīth. This wall probably belonged to a fortified military camp to house troops that were based in Cordoba in order to campaign against both Christian and Muslim enemy territories, located to the north and east of the territories controlled by the North Africans.67 The overall security provided by the Almohad Empire might have attracted Muslim refugees to Cordoba from the rural border enclaves north of Sierra Morena, without excluding the possible influx of new North African military contingents. This demographic growth gave rise to a new urban dynamism. In al-Sharqiyya, this is reflected in the creation of neighborhoods that urbanized land once occupied by old munan, as is the case of the Almohad houses located in the garden of the old convent of San Pablo, in Munyat ʿAbd Allāh and Abéjar Street. This unoccupied land was probably vacant because it belonged to the suburb of Munyat al-Mughīra. This process, partly sponsored by the Almohad caliphs and partly by private initiative, would be extended to suburban sectors around the madīna and alSharqiyya (fig. 10.9). Arab sources available on Almohad Cordoba68 only refer to the neighborhood (hawma) of al-Kawthar mosque, located opposite Bāb alYahūd on land previously occupied by the Umayyad suburb of the Umm Salama mosque. Excavations carried out between the current Ronda de los Tejares and Ronda de América avenues (fig. 10.9: D) have documented several houses in this late-Islamic suburb, with landscaped central courtyards and raised perimeter platforms, as well as rooms with skirting boards painted with complex geometric motifs similar to those seen in the Almohad neighborhood of San Pablo. To the northeast of the neighborhood, separated by one of the most important cemeteries of its time, Umm Salama,69 another suburb extends from Avenida de Las Ollerías to the area of Valdeolleros (fig. 10.9: E and F), place names that make express reference to the pottery activities performed there since medieval times.70 The industrial areas from the period have been excavated, including several circular furnaces and a residential sector with a mosque. 66 67 68 69 70

Zanón, Topografía de Córdoba almohade. León and Murillo, Advances in research. Zanón, Topografía de Córdoba almohade. Casal, Los cementerios musulmanes. León and Blanco, La fitna y sus consecuencias. Molina and Salinas, Hornos de barras islámicos.

246

murillo redondo and casal-garcía

Furthermore, to the east of al-Sharqiyya, in Avenida de Rabanales, where the layout of the old Via Augusta is fossilized, in front of the gates known in Christian times as Plasencia and Baeza, residential areas related to agricultural production areas have been documented. These areas are similar to those near the oil mill excavated in the Cercadilla area (fig. 10.9: B), in the old suburb of Jānib al-Gharbī. To the south of Cercadilla, and in front of Bāb ʿĀmir, on the western side of the madīna wall, is another late-Islamic suburb in the area of the old Roman amphitheater, which spreads southwards through the district of Ciudad Jardín to Avenida del Aeropuerto, in front of the Almodóvar Gate (fig. 10.9: A). Overall, the situation in the last decades of the 12th century and the first years of the 13th century is that of an extensive, walled city consisting of two sectors (al-Madīna and al-Sharqiyya) surrounded by suburbs. To a certain extent, it is reminiscent of the situation already observed in the 9th century, although the buildings were much closer to the walls, no further than 600 meters away, and not linked to the great munan that gave rise to the Islamic suburbs during the emirate era. In addition, the separation between residential and manufacturing areas was less evident than in the Umayyad suburbs, with a more rural and less clearly urban character. This was possibly due to the nature of its inhabitants, who came from rural areas threatened by the Christian advance,71 which, after the battle of Las Navas de Tolosa (1212), would be unstoppable and in 1236 would put an end to more than five centuries of Cordoba’s history as an Islamic city.

Bibliography Acién, M., Entre el feudalismo y el Islam. ʿUmar ibn Hafsun en los historiadores, en las fuentes y en la historia, Jaén 1994. Acién, M., and A. Vallejo, Urbanismo y Estado islámico: de Corduba a Qurṭuba-Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, P. in Cressier and M. García-Arenal (eds.), Génèse de la ville islamique en al-Andalus et au Maghreb occidental, Madrid 1998, 107–136. Cano, P., Jurisprudencia andalusí en el alquiler de viviendas, in Philologia Hispalensis 8 (1993), 87–101. Cano, J.M., A. León, and E. Salinas, La industria medieval de Córdoba: el sector occidental en época islámica, in D. Vaquerizo and J.F. Murillo (eds.), El anfiteatro romano de Córdoba y su entorno urbano. Análisis arqueológico (siglos i–xiii d.C.), Córdoba 2010, vol. 2, 685–699. 71

León and Blanco, La fitna y sus consecuencias.

the suburbs of the greatest city in the west

247

Cánovas, A., E. Castro, and M. Moreno, Análisis de los espacios domésticos en un sector de los arrabales occidentales de Qurṭuba, in Anejos de Anales de Arqueología Cordobesa 1, (2008), 201–220. Casal, M.T., Los cementerios musulmanes de Qurṭuba (Arqueología Cordobesa 9), Córdoba 2003. Casal, M.T., Características generales del urbanismo cordobés de la primera etapa emiral: el arrabal de Ŝaqunda, in Anejos de Anales de Arqueología Cordobesa 1 (2008), 109–134. Casal, M.T., The rabad of Šaqunda in Umayyad Córdoba (750–818ad), in S. Panzram and L. Callegarin (eds.), Entre civitas y madīna. El mundo de las ciudades en la Península Ibérica y en el norte de África (siglos iv–ix) (Collection de la Casa de Velázquez 164), Madrid 2018, 119–132. Casal, M.T., E. Castro, R. López, E. and Salinas, Aproximación al estudio de la cerámica emiral del arrabal de Ŝaqunda (Qurṭuba, Córdoba), in Arqueología y Territorio Medieval 12 (2005), 189–235. Casal, M.T., R. Martínez, and M. Araque, Estudio de los vertederos domésticos del arrabal de ŝaqunda: ganadería, alimentación y usos derivados (750–818 d.C.) (Córdoba), in Anejos de Anales de Arqueología Cordobesa 2 (2010), 143–182. Castejón, R., Córdoba califal, in Boletín de la Real Academia de Córdoba 25 (1929), 254– 339. Castelló, F., Descripción nueva de Córdoba musulmana. Traducción y notas, in Anuario de Filología 2 (1976), 123–154. Castro, E., El arrabal de época califal de la zona arqueológica de Cercadilla: la arquitectura doméstica (Arqueología Cordobesa 12), Córdoba 2005. Chalmeta, P., Invasión e islamización, Madrid 1994. Clapés, R., Un baño privado en el arrabal occidental de Madinat Qurtuba, in Arqueología y territorio medieval 20 (2013), 97–128. Clapés, R., La actividad comercial de Córdoba en época califal a través de un edificio hallado en el arrabal de Poniente, in Anales de Arqueología Cordobesa 25–26 (2015), 225–254. Dortez, T., Urbanismo islámico en el sector central del Yanib al-Garbi, in D. Vaquerizo and J.F. Murillo (eds.), El anfiteatro romano de Córdoba y su entorno urbano. Análisis arqueológico (siglos i–xiii d.C.), Córdoba 2010, vol. 2, 621–628. Fuertes, M.C., Aproximación al urbanismo y la arquitectura doméstica de época califal del Yacimiento de Cercadilla, in Arqueología y territorio medieval 9, (2002), 105–126. García Gómez, E., Notas sobre la topografía cordobesa en los Anales de al-Ḥakam ii por Isà Razi, in Al-Andalus 30 (1965), 319–379. Garriguet, J.A., El concepto de suburbium en la ciudad romana, in D. Vaquerizo and J.F. Murillo (eds.), El anfiteatro romano de Córdoba y su entorno urbano. Análisis arqueológico (siglos i–xiii d.C.), Córdoba 2010, vol. 2, 365–379.

248

murillo redondo and casal-garcía

González, C., Las mezquitas de barrio de Madīnat Qurṭuba: una aproximación arqueologica, Córdoba 2012. Hidalgo, R., and M.C. Fuertes, Córdoba, entre la Antigüedad Clásica y el Islam. Las transformaciones de la ciudad a partir de la información de las excavaciones en Cercadilla, in F. Valdés and A. Velázquez (eds.), La islamización de la Extremadura romana, Mérida 2001, 223–264. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabis ii-1Ibn Ḥayyān, Crónica de los emires Alḥakam I y ´Abdarraḥmān II entre los años 796 y 847 [al-Muqtabis II-1]. Trad. Maḥmūd ´Alī Makkī y Federico Corriente, Zaragoza 2001. León, A., and R. Blanco, La fitna y sus consecuencias. La revitalización urbana de Córdoba en época almohade, in D. Vaquerizo and J.F. Murillo (eds.), El anfiteatro romano de Córdoba y su entorno urbano. Análisis arqueológico (siglos i–xiii d.C.), Córdoba 2010, vol. 2, 699–724. León, A., and M.T. Casal, Los cementerios de Madīnat Qurṭuba, in D. Vaquerizo and J.F. Murillo (eds.), El anfiteatro romano de Córdoba y su entorno urbano. Análisis arqueológico (siglos i–xiii d.C.), Córdoba 2010, vol. 2, 651–685. León, A., and J.F. Murillo, El complejo civil tardoantiguo de Córdoba y su continuidad en el Alcázar Omeya, in Madrider Mitteilungen 50 (2009), 399–433. León, A., and J.F. Murillo, Advances in research on Islamic Cordoba, in Journal of Islamic archaeology 1 (2014), 5–35. León, A., and J.F. Murillo, Las comunidades dhimmis cristianas en la Córdoba omeya. Posibilidades y límites de su visibilidad arqueológica, in Al-Mulk. Anuario de estudios arabistas 15 (2017), 145–174. Lévi Provencal, E., El desarrollo urbano. Córdoba en el siglo x, in Historia de España Menéndez Pidal, Madrid 1957, vol. 5, 195–255. López Cuevas, F., La almunia cordobesa, entre las fuentes historiográficas y arqueológicas, in Onoba 1 (2013), 243–260. Manzano, E., Conquistadores, emires y califas, Barcelona 2006. Manzano, E, La corte del califa. Cuatro años en la Córdoba de los omeyas, Barcelona 2019. Molina, A., and E. Salinas, Hornos de barras islámicos en Córdoba (España), in xlii Convegno Internazionale della Ceramica sobre Fornaci. Tecnologie e produzione della ceramica in etá medievale e moderna, Florencia 2010, 45–56. Molina, L., Familias andalusíes: los datos del Taʾrij ʿulama al-Andalus, de Ibn al-Faradi, in M.L. Avila (ed), Estudios Onomático-Biográficos de al-Andalus, Granada 1989, vol. 2, 19–99. Murillo, J.F., La almunia de al-Rusafa en Córdoba, in Madrider Mitteilungen 50 (2009), 450–482. Murillo, J.F., Qurṭuba Califal. Origen y desarrollo de la Capital Omeya de al-Andalus, in Awraq 7 (2013), 81–103.

the suburbs of the greatest city in the west

249

Murillo, J.F., Grandes residencias suburbanas en la Córdoba omeya. Estado de la cuestión, in Al-Mulk. Anuario de estudios arabistas 12 (2014), 85–108. Murillo, J.F., Colonia Patricia Corduba hasta la dinastía flavia. Imagen urbana de una capital provincial, in R. González and J. Ruiz de Arbulo (eds.), Simulacra Romae ii. Rome, les capitales de province (capita prouinciarum) et la création d’un espace commun européen. Une aproche archéologique, Reims 2010, 71–93. Murillo, J.F., M.C. Fuertes, and M.D. Luna, Aproximación al análisis de los espacios domésticos en la Córdoba andalusí, in F. García Verdugo and F. Acosta (eds.), Córdoba en la Historia. La construcción de la urbe, Córdoba 1999, 129–154. Murillo, J.F., M.T. Casal, and E. Castro, Madinat Qurṭuba. Aproximación al proceso de formación de la ciudad emiral y califal a partir de la información arqueológica, in Cuadernos de Madīnat al-Zahrā 4 (2004), 257–281. Murillo, J.F. et al., La transición de la civitas clásica cristianizada a la madina islámica a través de las transformaciones operadas en las áreas suburbiales, in D. Vaquerizo and J.F. Murillo (eds.), El anfiteatro romano de Córdoba y su entorno urbano. Análisis arqueológico (siglos i–xiii d.C.), Córdoba 2010, vol. 2, 503–546. Murillo, J.F., et al., Los arrabales del sector septentrional del Ŷānib al-Garbī, in D. Vaquerizo and J.F. Murillo (eds.), El anfiteatro romano de Córdoba y su entorno urbano. Análisis arqueológico (siglos i–xiii d.C.), Córdoba 2010, vol. 2, 565–615. Pinilla, R., Jurisprudencia y ciudad: notas sobre toponimia y urbanismo en la Córdoba altomedieval extraídas de Al-ahkam Al-kubrá de Ibn Sahl (siglo xi), in Actas del i Congreso Internacional Las Ciudades Históricas, Patrimonio y Sociabilidad, Córdoba 2000, 559–574. Pizarro, G., Los Pasadizos Elevados entre la Mezquita y el Alcázar Omeya de Córdoba. Estudio arqueológico de los sābāṭāt, in Archivo español de Arqueología 86 (2013), 233–249. Sauvaget, J., Le plan antique de Damas, in Syria 26 (1949), 314–358. Torres Balbás, L., Ciudades hispanomusulmanas, Madrid 1985. Van Staevel, J.P., Casa, calle y vecindad en la documentación jurídica, in J. Navarro (ed.), Casas y Palacios de al-Andalus, Barcelona 1996, 53–61. Vaquerizo, D., and J.F. Murillo (eds.), El anfiteatro romano de Córdoba y su entorno urbano. Análisis arqueológico (siglos i–xiii d.C.), Córdoba 2010. Vázquez, B., El agua en la Córdoba andalusí. Los sistemas hidráulicos de un sector del Ŷānib al-Garbī durante el Califato Omeya, in Arqueología y Territorio Medieval 20 (2013), 31–66. Zanón, J., Topografía de Córdoba almohade a través de las fuentes árabes, Madrid 1989.

250

murillo redondo and casal-garcía

Elements Numbered in the Figures Madīna gates: Bb1. Bāb al-Yahūd (Gate of the Jews). Bb2. Bāb Ṭulayṭula (Toledo Gate). Bb3. Bāb al-Ḥadīd (Iron Gate). Bb4. Bāb al-Qanṭara (Bridge Gate). Bb5. Bāb Ishbīliya (Seville Gate). Bb6. Bāb al-Jawz (Oak Tree Gate). Bb7. Bāb ʻĀmir al-Qurashī. Axerquía gates: Bb8. Rincón Gate. Bb9. Colodro Gate. Bb10. Alquerque Gate or Gate of Mercy. Bb11. Plasencia Gate. Bb12. Andújar Gate. Bb13. New Gate. Bb14. Baeza Gate. Bb15. Martos Gate. Cemeteries–maqābir: Mq1. Maqbarat Shaqunda. Mq2. Plaza de Andalucía Cemetery. Mq3. Maqbarat Munyat ʻAjab. Mq4. Maqbara of the Naranjal de Almagro. Mq5. Maqbara of the Ibn Zaydūn roundabout. Mq6. Maqbara of Fontanar de Cabanos. Mq7. Maqbara of Avenida del Aeropuerto. Mq8. Maqbarat Bāb ʻĀmir. Mq9, Mq29, and Mq31. Cercadilla Cemetery. Mq10. Maqbara of the Trassierra roundabout. Mq11. Maqbara of Carrefour shopping center. Mq12 and Mq23. Maqbara of Teruel Street. Mq13. Maqbarat Umm Salama. Mq14. Maqbarat Masjid al-Mughīra. Mq15. Cemetery of the Basilica of the Three Saints. Mq16. Maqbarat Ibn ʻAbbās (?) Mq17. Maqbarat al-Burj (?) Mq18. Marrubial Cemetery. Mq19 and Mq26. Maqbara of Avenida de Libia. Mq24. Maqbara of Las Ollerías. Mq25. Maqbara of Avenida Virgen de las Angustias. Mq27. Qūṭ Rāsha Cemetery (?). Mq28. Maqbara of Plasencia Gate. Mq29. Maqbara of Avenida de Libia. Almunias–munan: Al1. Munyat al-Ruṣāfa. Al2. Almunia of Alcalá Galiano Street. Al3. Almunia of Teruel Street. Al4. Almunia of Avenida de los Almogávares. Al6. Almunia of Avenida de Libia. Al7. Munyat al-Mughīra. Al8. Munyat ʿAbd Allāh (?). Al9. Almunia of Miraflores. Al10. Munyat ʿAjab. Al11. Munyat Balāṭ Mughīth. Al12. Almunia of Reina Sofía Hospital. Al13. Almunia of Naranjal de Almagro. Al14. Alumunia of Fontanar de Cabanos. Al15. Almunia of blocks 2 and 3 of p.p. O-7. Al16. Almunia of Ronda de Poniente. Al17. Casillas almunia. Al18. Almunia of the Cortijo del Alcaide. Al19. El Castillo almunia. Al20. La Florida almunia de la Florida. Al21. Almunia of the Parque Joyero. Al22. Almunia of Santa Clara. Al24. Almunia of the Huerta de Santa Isabel. Al25. Turruñuelos. Al34. Almunia of Fontanar de Cuesta Blanquilla. Al43. Almunia of the Cortijo de Salinas. Al45. Almunia of blocks 5 and 16 of p.p. O-7. Mosques: Mz1. Great Mosque. Mz2. Mosque of Santa Clara. Mz3. Mosque of San Juan de los Caballeros. Mz4. Mosque of Bāb ʻĀmir. Mz7. Mosque of San

the suburbs of the greatest city in the west

251

Nicolás de la Axerquía. Mz8. Mosque of Santiago (Masjid ʻĀmir Hishām?). Mz9. Mosque of San Lorenzo (Masjid al-Mughīra?). Mz10. Fontanar Mosque. Mz11. Mosque of the Regional Transfusion Centre. Mz12. Mosque of Naranjal de Almagro. Mz13. Mosque of the bus station. Mz14. Mosque of San Nicolás de la Villa (?). Mz15.- Mosque of Ollerías. Mz16. Mosque on block 5 of p.p. O-7. Baths–ḥammāmāt: Hm2. Santa María Baths. Hm3. Baths of the Great Mosque. Hm4. Pescadería Baths. Hm5. Baths in Carlos Rubio Street. Hm7. Baths of the Fontanar swimming pool. Hm8. Baths of Naranjal de Almagro. Hm9. Baths of Fontanar de Cabanos. Hm10. Baths on block 11 of p.p. O-7. Hm11. Baths of the Artillery Headquarters. Hm12. Cercadilla Baths. Hm13. Baths on block 5 of p.p. O-7. Hm14. Baths on block 11 of p.p. O-7.

chapter 11

The Christian and Islamic Population of Cercadilla, Cordoba: 7th–12th Century Mª del Camino Fuertes Santos and Rafael Hidalgo Prieto

figure 11.1 Right half of a Pectem maximus scallop shell with two holes, pilgrim’s shell, 12th century, Almohad Caliphate © mª.c. fuertes santos

1

Introduction

The vast amount of evidence discovered during the large urban development boom in this area of the city of Cordoba permitted the reconstruction of the Cercadilla site from its origins until the end of its time. The first research on the site focused on the late Roman building, which led to the assumption, after ruling out other possibilities,1 that in spite of its unusual elements, the site corresponded to a palatial building. The date of construction was established between 293 and 305 ce following the discovery, in one of the thermal baths, of an inscription mentioning Constantius Chlorus and Galerius Maximianus as noble caesars.2 This date, together with the architectural arrangement and

1 Hidalgo, Análisis arquitectónico. 2 Hidalgo and Ventura, Sobre la cronología e interpretación.

© M.C. Fuertes Santos and R. Hidalgo Prieto, 2023 | doi:10.1163/9789004524156_012

the christian and islamic population of cercadilla, cordoba

figure 11.2

253

Google Earth image, reconstruction of the Cercadilla palace (under the direction of R. Hidalgo) and amphitheater of Cordoba (the latter according to the proposal of Jimenez Hernández, Anfiteatros romanos en la Bética) © google earth fair use

constructive design of the palace, among other indicators, made it possible to ascribe the building to the tetrarch Maximian Herculean (figs. 11.2, 11.3 and 11.4). The great late antique and Mozarabic necropolis that spreads over this area and the transformations observed in at least three of the buildings of the palatial ensemble allowed us to conclude that this palace, as has been observed in others of its kind in different parts of the empire, was converted into a center for Christian worship. The site was most likely devoted to the martyr and patron saint of Cordoba, St. Acisclus, who was executed during the last persecution the tetrarchs ordered against the Christians. Although there is no epigraphic evidence confirming that the site was dedicated to the worship of St. Acisclus, the archaeological evidence coincides very closely with references in the extant literary sources that mention this prominent site of Christian worship.3 3 Hidalgo, De edificio imperial a complejo de culto; Hidalgo, El complejo monumental de Cercadilla.

254

fuertes santos and hidalgo prieto

figure 11.3

Model of the Roman palace of Cercadilla, built by A. Ortega Anguiano under the direction of R. Hidalgo, and model owned by the Museo Diocesano de Córdoba © photograph: mª.c. fuertes santos

This large Christian and Mozarabic necropolis that occupied the Cercadilla district and extended at least from the entrance gate of the palatial ensemble to the central basilical hall (no burials have yet been detected inside) highlights the importance of this church, especially during the al-Andalus period. The excavations at the site have determined that it was surrounded by the caliphal district and that burials continued until at least the 11th century. Since 2009, no new archaeological excavations have been carried out in Cercadilla, so there are no new data to provide knowledge on the introduction of Christianity. The available data on this subject have been published in different scientific and popular media and are analyzed in this study.

2

The Site of Christian Worship

The imperial palace of Maximian was probably transformed into a site of Christian worship soon after it was built. Regarding the changes made to this palace in Cordoba, Bishop Hosius, a counsellor to Constantine, likely played an important role. Indeed, Hosius probably used his influence to convince the emperor to convert the palace into a Christian building.

figure 11.4

Plan of the Cercadilla archaeological site © r. hidalgo and mª.c. fuertes santos

the christian and islamic population of cercadilla, cordoba

255

256

figure 11.5

fuertes santos and hidalgo prieto

North triconch apsidal hall of the Roman palace and church of St. Acisclus © photograph: mª.c. fuertes santos

Three of the palace’s buildings were chosen to erect the new place of worship: building G, the north triconch apsidal hall; building O, the double-apse hall; and building M, the north minor basilical hall (figs. 11.4 and 11.5). Adjacent to the site, a large, late antique necropolis was built, whose oldest tombs and associated epigraphs have been dated to the 6th century. Such is the case of the inscriptions on the headstone of Bishop Lampadius4 and the seal ring of Bishop Samson.5 The necropolis was the burial site of Cordoban Mozarabs from the 8th to the 11th century, at which time the caliphal district in this area of the city was abandoned and hence this place of worship (figs. 11.4, 11.5, and 11.6).6 For its new Christian purpose, it was unconceivable to maintain a building with the dimensions and design of the imperial palace, which clearly differed from the characteristics of Christian buildings in early late antiquity. As can be surmised from the tumulatio ad sanctos, the most important and significant

4 cil ii2/7, 643; Hidalgo, Lampadio, Obispo de Córdoba. 5 cil ii2/7, 643a; Hidalgo, De edificio imperial a complejo de culto 357–358; Hidalgo, El complejo monumental de Cercadilla 530–531. 6 Fuertes, Aproximación al urbanismo; Fuertes and Hidalgo, La evolución urbana del arrabal Noroccidental de Qurtuba; Fuertes and Hidalgo, La transformación del paisaje del área noroccidental cordobesa; Hidalgo and Fuertes, Córdoba entre la antigüedad clásica y el Islam.

the christian and islamic population of cercadilla, cordoba

figure 11.6

257

Model of the Christian place of worship erected on the buildings of the Roman palace. Exhibited during the Nasara, extranjeros en su tierra exhibition at the Mosque of Cordoba from December 2017 to January 2018. Built by A. Ortega Anguiano. Scientific supervision: R. Hidalgo and Mª.C. Fuertes Santos. Model owned by the Museo Diocesano de Córdoba © photograph: mª.c. fuertes santos

building of the ensemble for purposes of worship was the old triconch apsidal hall situated at the north end of the palace’s sigma portico. Given that its orientation and design closely resemble early Christian basilicas, the ground plan was reused and adapted by transforming the internal sections—originally arranged into three transverse naves—into three longitudinal naves. Testimonies recovered in the building and its immediate surroundings referring to two 6th-century Cordoban bishops, Lampadius and Samson, indicate the importance of worship and martyrdom at this site and explain why the bishops’ wished to be buried in what must have been the most important martyrium in the city. The fall of the caliphate, the end of the process of acculturation, and increasing religious intolerance would put an end to the Mozarabic sites of worship, to such an extent that no historical record of their original location after the Christian conquest would remain.7 7 Hidalgo, De edificio imperial a complejo de culto.

258 3

fuertes santos and hidalgo prieto

The Christian Necropolis

So far, over 150 individuals have been excavated from the necropolis of Cercadilla. With some exceptions, the bodies were laid in a supine position facing east-west, with straightened legs and arms either drawn up over the chest, abdomen, or pelvis or flexed. The few cases in which the burial positions vary are the result of the bodies being made to fit in the remaining space or the due to the state of the bodies prior to burial. Almost all the tombs lacked funerary artifacts, and the absence of metal elements, such as pins, belt buckles, or brooches, suggests that they were buried with a kind of shroud tied with the same fabric. The tombs usually hold only one individual, although in the case of mothers who died during childbirth it is not rare to find them accompanied by their deceased babies. Some tombs held several individuals, who were placed on top of each other, or contained only ossuaries. In some of these latter tombs, the ossuaries were placed at the feet or on top of the last body that was buried, while in other tombs the bones of the extremities and the trunk were placed at the feet of the last individual buried, and the skulls corresponding to these ossuaries were placed next to the head. Many of the tombs were built in enclosed places in the form of “mausoleums” or “funerary sites” by reusing the Roman palace’s spaces or structures. It is very likely that these tombs held members of the same family or community. Burial zones for babies and toddlers have also been found. The necropolis covered several hectares, and although it also included the entrance gate to the old palace, the highest burial density can be found near the reused palatial buildings; particularly what has been identified as the north triconch apsidal hall (figs. 11.4, 11.5, and 11.6). Due to the stratigraphic arrangement of the tombs, we have generally been able to ascribe them to a specific chronological period; although a series of other circumstances have also helped to determine the dating. Chronologically linked to the broad period of late antiquity, interments following a characteristic ritual have been identified. Some of the recovered interments are accompanied by one or more previously buried skulls. Although rarely used, we have been able to attribute this funeral rite to a specific cultural phase following the discovery and excavation of an interment in an ashlar cist where the main individual, in addition to being buried with three more skulls placed around the head, was accompanied by a small pre-Islamic jar of Visigothic origin.8

8

Fuertes, Rodero, and Ariza, Nuevos datos urbanísticos.

the christian and islamic population of cercadilla, cordoba

259

In general, the typology of the tombs is quite similar. The deceased were placed in calcarenite or brick cists or directly in dug graves, on the ground, or in previously existing structures. Occasionally, the cists were lined with plaster and very rarely contained a stone “pillow” to support the head of the deceased. Some of the tombs are not covered, although most of them are marked with headstones, such as that of Lampadius, the opisthographic headstone of Acantia (596) and Calamarius (605 or 608),9 the Mozarabic ones of Iquiecipo dating 877, and a sacerdus of unknown name also from 877,10 as well as Cristophora’s of 983.11 The oldest tombs are marked with tegulae, calcarenite, shale, slate, or stone slabs, or roof tiles; while some of the most modern are even indicated with large broken ceramic containers, particularly earthenware bowls and/or jars. Most of the skeletons have undergone anthropophysical analysis to determine the physical features, age of death, diseases, and/or injuries the deceased suffered in the course of their lives and, when possible, the cause of death. Very few presented clear signs of violence. One, whose social importance was apparent from the luxurious characteristics of the tomb compared to nearby ones of the same period, was interred in a cist made from limestone slabs and Roman brick pillaged from the palace and contained a mortar-coated stone pillow and was covered with stone slabs. The skeleton presented serious wounds incompatible with life, which were most likely the cause of death. Among others, the left leg was completely severed at the femur (fig. 11.7a). It should be mentioned that the heads of several individuals were missing (fig. 11.7c), none of whom had been beheaded. The tombs were opened in order to extract the heads, probably to remove the relics due to the expectations arising around the martyr phenomenon of the Cordoban Mozarabs throughout practically all of Christianity.

4

Pre-Islamic Domestic Occupation: 7th Century to Early 8th Century

The late antique necropolis and the church coexisted in a habitat that while not exactly disperse, was certainly not organized or orderly and, in any case, would have been linked to the place of Christian worship. Until now, occupation in this period associated with the use of spaces as dwellings or for refuge has only been detected inside the cryptoporticus, more 9 10 11

cil ii2/7, 644. González, Inscripciones mozárabes de Andalucía 31–35. González, Inscripciones mozárabes de Andalucía 62–66.

260

figure 11.7a–c

fuertes santos and hidalgo prieto

(a) Tomb of a Mozarabic individual with severe wounds—see the severed left femur; (b) tomb of a Mozarabic individual with 32 al-Andalus coins as funerary objects placed above the right shoulder; (c) tomb of a male individual without a head © photograph: mª.c. fuertes santos

specifically in the section where its vault is practically intact (fig. 11.8). Floors have been found that indicate a precarious use of the interior of the Roman gallery. Similarly, domestic occupation—including the existence of a furnace— has been documented in the 7th century, and subsequent occupations continued until the 8th century. The last phase is associated with a floor that shows only occasional occupation, since the height at which it was placed, very near the arch keystone, made it hard to walk. In the rest of the archaeological site, evidence of building activity associated with domestic constructions during this phase is very scarce and largely altered, particularly near the caliphal buildings. We only have indirect testimonies, such as ceramics deposited in middens, to demonstrate the area’s occupation in this period. The artifacts recovered in this zone present no symbology whatsoever to indicate the beliefs of the individuals who used them. The fauna associated with this period has not yet been studied.

the christian and islamic population of cercadilla, cordoba

figure 11.8

5

261

Area of the cryptoporticus where most of the occupied floors associated with the 5th–8th century have been documented, as well as the tomb and midden from the second third of the 8th century. In the photograph, at the back, is screen wall of the railway station in Cordoba © photograph: mª.c. fuertes santos

The Emiral Neighbourhood

5.1

Ancient Emiral Period: The Second to the Last Third of the 8th Century The only evidence of occupation at this specific time is a burial site and a midden, both documented inside the cryptoporticus12 (figs. 11.4 and 11.8). Due to the semisubterranean nature of the cryptoporticus, after the palace was abandoned the gallery served as a cave from the first transformations of this area in the 5th century to the 10th century when it was filled in. At a certain point in the first third of the 8th century, it was used to conduct a burial. Until that moment, the cryptoporticus had not been used as a necropolis, and as far as we know, it was not used as such again.13 12

13

Fuertes, La cerámica medieval de Cercadilla, Córdoba; Fuertes and Hidalgo, Cerámicas tardorromanas y altomedievales de Córdoba 505–540; La transformación del paisaje 165–172; Hidalgo, El criptopórtico de Cercadilla. Fuertes, Una tumba insólita de la necrópolis mozárabe.

262

fuertes santos and hidalgo prieto

In a simple pit, oriented east-west, without a covering and opened in an old floor from the 7th century, an individual was placed in supine position, with the right arm flexed over the body, the left arm over the chest, and straightened legs. The tibias, fibulas, and foot bones were not found in their anatomical position (probably due to animal intervention) but on top of the individual’s femurs in a residual fill (fig. 11.7b). Because of this we know that the person was buried according to the Christian rite. The anthropophysical study determined that the body corresponded to a male who died between 30 and 40 years of age, not beyond 45, and who did not enjoy good health. The study was not able to determine the cause of death. Furthermore, next to the man’s right shoulder a sachet made of linen and cotton containing a total of 32 copper fulus was found. The date of only one of the coins could be identified as 110/728, while on six others it was possible to read the mint mark “al-Andalus” on the rim.14 This individual was a Cordoban Mozarab, who died and was buried shortly after Mughīth’s troops conquered the city. Both the burial site, which is almost in the central axis of the cryptoporticus and near one of the windows of the structure used during the period immediately prior to the burial to bring in light, ventilation, and provide access to this section of the gallery, as well as the presence of the 32 coins, bear testimony to the peculiar social situation of this individual, who may have been of some importance, although we cannot say so with any certainty.15 At the time of his burial, the windows were not filled in and, unless some structure made of perishable materials of which no trace remains was used for this purpose, the section must have been lit by sunlight in the first hours of the morning. The isolated character of this tomb, separate from the rest of the tombs of the members of his community and of the place of worship itself, is difficult to explain. Other late antique Mozarab and funerary sites were found that reused the former frigidarium and sudatorium of the baths of the Roman palace—a building in their proximity—as well as in the surroundings of the cryptoporticus. It is the subterranean character of the cryptoporticus and its monumentality that makes both this precarious tomb—with no cover and consisting of a simple pit—and its occupant so exceptional (fig. 11.7b).

14

15

During the excavation of the baths in the 2009 campaign, a burial of another Mozarab was documented with a copper felus next to his head, Fuertes, Carrasco and Hidalgo, Una nueva campañ a de excavación arqueológica en el palacio de Cercadilla 150–152. Serrano, Cano and Salvatierra, El Jaén islámico. Las monedas y la identificación de las primeras fases de la ciudad 95–109.

the christian and islamic population of cercadilla, cordoba

263

Thirty-two copper fulus could well be the contents of a purse, and in this case it is clear that it belonged to this individual. However, the fact that it was found next to his right shoulder leads us to think it was left as a funerary object. The absence of other metal artifacts, such as brooches or pins, may indicate that the body was wrapped in a shroud, or that his clothes were held in place with ties or belts without buckles. Not only is the site chosen to inter this individual surprising, alone in the immensity of the cryptoporticus, as well as the presence of the 32 coins, but also the fact that it is covered by what is to date the most extensive and largest midden found in Cercadilla. This midden covered the 7th-century floors, in addition to the tomb, and was full of ceramics and the remains of bones. The ceramics date to the 8th century, a chronology that could be further confirmed by the presence of four copper fulus dated to the conquest period, not beyond the first third of the 8th century, which provides a terminus post quem in the second half of the 8th century, specifically between the second and the last third of the century.16 The ceramics display decorations and forms characteristic of the previous period since, although some of the ideas of the invaders were rapidly assimilated from the very beginning, the most traditional and most sought after forms, such as pots or jars and pitchers, continued to be manufactured in the traditional fashion. The newcomers to Cordoba most certainly initially acquired their supplies in the busy local market, but as this new population became increasingly settled, foreign motifs and models were introduced. Furthermore, we must not forget that both the indigenous and the foreign population shared a common late Roman tradition; a fact that would explain the impossibility of recognizing and distinguishing the new products from the traditional ones in many cases, as well as why certain forms and decorative styles survived from the previous period.17 The midden was in turn covered by a further layer of industrial refuse, from which four copper fulus were retrieved with a chronology spanning the 8th and the 9th centuries.18 Therefore, this midden is ascribed to the second and the last third of the 8th century, and its function may not have been to deposit refuse but rather to hide the grave, although this may be a bold assumption. The coins found next to the grave’s occupant may be indicative of his social status. This raises the question of why, if he was indeed a person of a certain social standing and was therefore distinguished by the placing of the coins, he 16 17 18

Frochoso, Los Feluses de Al-Andalus 29. Fuertes, La cerámica medieval de Cercadilla, Córdoba 212. Fuertes and Hidalgo, La transformación del paisaje del área noroccidental cordobesa.

264

fuertes santos and hidalgo prieto

was not buried in the church that presided over the whole burial area or nearby. The intention may have been to “honor” him by choosing the cryptoporticus as his burial site; a monumental building lit by the morning sun coming through the windows. But if this is true, why was he interred in a pit? Why did his grave lack a covering of any kind, even brick, tiles, or stone? And, most importantly, why was this domestic waste dumped through the windows immediately following his burial, thereby sealing his memory forever? Why take such great pains to bury the body and then immediately cover it with such refuse? Was the intention to soil his memory or was it to protect his body from possible desecration?19 And the most difficult question of all: who was this person? 5.2 The Emiral Period: 8th to 9th Century The surviving remains of the emiral dwellings and buildings, most likely associated with the Mozarabs who lived in the vicinity of this place of Christian worship, are heavily altered, since most of them were destroyed or reused to build subsequent caliphal houses, with the exception of a bathhouse. However, there is no doubt that the area was densely occupied throughout the emiral period, as indicated by the presence of numerous middens and cesspools filled with the inhabitants’ refuse. Emiral architectural remains are scarce to date and limited, almost exclusively, to the large site of Christian worship, a ḥammām, and some building remains, among them floors, sewage systems, foundations, fire pits, and industrial installations. The lack of archaeological evidence, however, does not permit us to draw an accurate picture of the urban layout of this period, although it does confirm that this site was occupied in a continuous manner. In addition, we must not forget what is to date one of the most important architectural ensembles of the period. At some undetermined time during the emirate—perhaps at the end of late ntiquity—the urban area near the entrance gate of the Roman place20 was modified by the construction of a road, and it was subdivided into a private and/or public space on either side of the new road. This new road ran parallel to the confines of the palace, which had by now completely disappeared, and was possibly connected with the Roman and late antique road running further north alongside the Roman aqueduct (fig. 11.4). Furthermore, a large ensemble identified as public baths, as well as other minor buildings, were constructed. The architectural plan,

19 20

Grave desecration was frequent. Mariana, Sancti Viatores, 153–183; Acién, Entre el Feudalismo y el Islam. Hidalgo, La puerta del “Palatium de Corduba.”

the christian and islamic population of cercadilla, cordoba

265

which included an apse at the end of one of its halls, and the building technique employed in some of the perimeter walls—an opus vitattum of mediocre manufacture—could well have been inspired in the Roman palace.21 According to the chronicles, there were some baths next to the church of St. Acisclus named after the person who ordered their construction: a physician named Khālid b. Yazīd b. Rumān the Christian. It is quite probable that we have archaeologically documented the baths mentioned in the chronicles and thus indirectly certified that the church in Cercadilla is indeed that of St. Acisclus. Furthermore, the continuous presence of a settled population in this urban area since late antiquity and during the emirate is confirmed by the existence of several ancient Roman and late antique roads, of which we have located at least three (fig. 11.4). One of them, situated in the eastern zone, was the abovementioned road running alongside the aqueduct. Another road, which is better documented archaeologically, also runs north-south and is located to the west of the archaeological site. This road, which was used at least from late antiquity, was consolidated in the caliphal period as a great road of almost eight meters in width with a very compacted gravel surface. Along one of the sides runs a channel of clean water, over a meter wide and half a meter deep, which served as an aqueduct until it was abandoned at an undetermined time in the middle of the caliphal period and turned into a sewer filled with waste. In a more central zone of the archaeological site, we have identified a large public space as a square, whose use was formalized during the caliphal period. This square was built at the crossing of two roads that had been in use at least since the emiral period, one running north-south and the other east-west, also located at another two points in the archaeological site. Both roads were paved with compressed earth, some sections with gravel, and in the caliphal period they formed part of the urban road network of the suburb.

6

10th Century

In the 10th century, the houses, buildings, and public spaces comprising the Cercadilla suburb were erected, but they did not survive beyond the caliphal period. The houses were built in blocks of two or more dwellings each and surrounded by squares or streets of differing importance and occasionally open to narrow ramparts. The suburb was constructed on several prior urban ele-

21

Fuertes, Rodero, and Ariza, Nuevos datos urbanísticos.

266

fuertes santos and hidalgo prieto

ments, which conditioned the final design and layout: on the one hand, the Roman palace, and particularly the Christian place of worship with its associated necropolis—directly on top of which several of the houses were built— and on the other hand, the Roman, late antique, and emiral roads that were integrated into the street plan of this quarter of Cordoba (fig. 11.4). During the last moments of the suburb, probably in the days before it was finally abandoned, waste began to accumulate in some of the streets; a clear sign of the absolute indolence that pervaded this suburb in the first years of the 11th century. This neglect was accompanied by the pillaging of the richest and most useful architectural elements of the houses and buildings and, in general, anything that could not be taken by the owners, which accelerated the decay of the structures. As we have observed, some of the houses were occupied while in very precarious condition, even as the roofs had already begun to collapse. The only mosque documented to date in the suburb of Cercadilla is from the 10th century. A small building consisting of a quadrangular prayer space, it has a courtyard at the front with an attached arcade.22 Today, the qibla wall with its miḥrāb are visible, facing southeast and with a heptagonal ground plan. In order to build the mosque, Roman materials were reused, such as the 2nd-century ce funerary altar dedicated to a slave who was most likely freed: Cornelia Kalles.23

7

End of the Umayyad Caliphate and the 12th Century

As a completely isolated event, a Muslim individual was buried on the remains of the collapsed walls of the houses constructed on the former palace baths. The body was placed in a simple pit in a right lateral supine position with the head facing southwest. Almost a century of neglect resulted in the urban decline that befell the western area of Cordoba during the Taifa period. This was partly resolved in the 12th century when a farmhouse was built; a construction that was erected in the only space without houses in Cercadilla, the one occupied by the Mozarab cemetery. During the Umayyad Caliphate, this space had been respected and remained separate from the suburb due to the presence of the Roman buildings

22 23

González, Las mezquitas de barrio de Madīnat Qurtuba 15 años después. Casal, Castro and Vargas, Epígrafes inéditos de la necrópolis septentrional de Colonia Patricia Corduba 329–339.

the christian and islamic population of cercadilla, cordoba

267

that had been reused as a Christian place of worship and the urban “borders” formed by surrounding streets.24 The study of mediaeval ceramics from Cercadilla has allowed us to clearly distinguish the different phases in this long and very complex historical period, which, in the case of Cercadilla, is further complicated by the presence of Christians and presumably Muslims, who coexisted in the same space from the beginning of the conquest until the end of the Almohad Caliphate. The arrival of Muslims did not bring radical changes in the production of ceramics during the first moments of the occupation; rather, production remained faithful to the ceramic tradition. However, the ceramic industry was an economic activity that adapted to demand, and the potters quickly adjusted to the new tastes by introducing new and more refined products to the market, which also coincided with the increasing Islamization of the Cordoban population in general and of Cercadilla in particular. The fauna in Cercadilla has allowed us to more clearly identify the type of society that inhabited the archaeological site. The presence of Suidae belonging to locally raised domestic swine during the emiral phases (not present in the suburb of Saqunda, for instance) helps to confirm that the inhabitants of Cercadilla in this period were Christian.25 No Suidae bone remains have been found in the middens of Cercadilla during the Umayyad Caliphate. This confirms the more widespread Islamization of its inhabitants, albeit it does not mean that all of them were necessarily Muslims. Lastly, the 12th-century fauna confirms that at least some of the occupants of the farmhouse built on the double-apse palatial building (Building O) and in its surroundings26 were also Christians, as attested by the presence of Suidae remains retrieved from the building’s midden, particularly of wild boars. More important is the presence of the right half of a Pectem maximus scallop shell with two holes for hanging in one of the rooms of the complex. This is a pilgrim’s shell, which is no doubt associated with the Way of St. James pilgrimage route (fig. 11.1).27 A large Christian place of worship—the church of St. Acisclus according to the historical and archaeological data in our possession—a Christian necropolis used from the 6th century to the end of the Umayyad Caliphate, a sub-

24 25 26 27

Fuertes, Córdoba durante el siglo xii. García-García, Some remarks 8. Fuertes, Córdoba durante el siglo xii. García, Explotación y consumo de los animales en el sureste de la península ibérica durante la Alta Edad Media (siglos vii-xii): perspectivas históricas y arqueozoológicas; Some remarks on the provision of animal products to urban centres in medieval Islamic Iberia 86–96.

268

fuertes santos and hidalgo prieto

urb built around the religious space, the presence of Suidae in the emiral and 12th-century levels (absent only in the caliphal levels), and a pilgrim’s shell in the 12th-century level indicate that the inhabitants of Cercadilla were either Christian or descended from Christians, or as García-García states, people with a “low degree of social Islamization” during the time that Cordoba was Muslim.28

Bibliography Acién, M., Entre el Feudalismo y el Islam. Umar Ibn Hafsún en los historiadores, en las fuentes y en la historia, PhD diss., Universidad de Jaén 1997. Calvo, M., El cementerio del área episcopal de Valencia en la época visigoda, in Los orígenes del cristianismo en Valencia y su entorno, Valencia 2000, 193–205. Casal, Mª.T., Los cementerios musulmanes de Qurtuba, in Anales de Arqueología Cordobesa 9 (2003), 283–313. Casal, Mª.T., E. Castro, S. Vargas, Epígrafes inéditos de la necrópolis septentrional de Colonia Patricia Corduba, in Anales de Arqueología Cordobesa 15 (2004), 329–339. Castro, E., El arrabal de época califal de la Zona Arqueológica de Cercadilla: la arquitectura doméstica, Córdoba 2005. Fuertes, Mª.C., Aproximación al urbanismo y la arquitectura doméstica de época califal del Yacimiento de Cercadilla, in Arqueología y Territorio Medieval 9 (2002), 105–126. Fuertes, Mª.C., La ocupación medieval de la Zona Arqueológica de Cercadilla, Córdoba. Siglos vii–xiii, PhD diss., Universidad Pablo de Olavide, Sevilla, 2005. Fuertes, Mª.C., Córdoba durante el siglo xii. El abandono y ruina de los arrabales occidentales y su reconversión en espacio agrícola e industrial a través de las excavaciones de Cercadilla, in El concepto de provincial en el mundo Antiguo. Homenaje a Pilar León Alonso, Córdoba 2006, 439–462. Fuertes, Mª.C., El sector nororiental del arrabal califal del yacimiento de Cercadilla. Análisis urbanístico y arquitectónico, in Arqueología y Territorio Medieval 14 (2007), 49–68. Fuertes, Mª.C., La cerámica medieval de Cercadilla, Córdoba. Tipología, decoración y función, Sevilla 2010. Fuertes, Mª.C., Una tumba insólita de la necrópolis mozárabe de Cercadilla, Córdoba, in Nasara, extranjeros en su tierra. Estudios sobre cultura mozárabe y catálogo de la muestra, Cabildo de la Catedral de Córdoba 2018, 33–46.

28

García-García, Explotación y consumo de los animales.

the christian and islamic population of cercadilla, cordoba

269

Fuertes, Mª.C., and R. Hidalgo, La evolución urbana del arrabal Noroccidental de Qurtuba: el yacimiento de Cercadilla, in Anales de Arqueología Cordobesa 12 (2001), 159–175. Fuertes, Mª.C., and R. Hidalgo, Cerámicas tardorromanas y altomedievales de Córdoba, in Cerámicas tardorromanas y altomedievales en la Península Ibérica. Ruptura y continuidad. Anejos de Archivo Español de Arqueología 28 (2003), 505–540. Fuertes, Mª.C., and R. Hidalgo, Guía Arqueológica de Cercadilla, Córdoba and Sevilla 2005. Fuertes, Mª.C., and R. Hidalgo, La transformación del paisaje del área noroccidental cordobesa y del palacio imperial de Maximiano tras la caída de la Tetrarquía, in Espacios urbanos en el Occidente romano (siglos vi–viii) (2010), 165–172. Fuertes, Mª.C., I. Carrasco, and R. Hidalgo, Una nueva campaña de excavación arqueológica en el palacio de Cercadilla, Córdoba. La secuencia estratigráfica del conjunto termal, in Antiquitas 24 (2013), 137–164. Fuertes, Mª.C.; S. Rodero, and J. Ariza, Nuevos datos urbanísticos en el área de la puerta del Palatium de Córdoba, in Romvla 6 (2007), 173–210. Jímenez Hernández, A., Anfiteatros romanos en la Bética: reflexiones sobre su geometría, diseño y traza, in Archivo Español de Arqueología 88 (2015), 127–148. Froschoso, R., Los Feluses de al-Andalus, Madrid 2001. García, L., Transformaciones de la Bética durante la tardoantigüedad, in Mainake 29 (2007), 433–471. García-García, M., Some remarks on the provision of animal products to urban centres in medieval Islamic Iberia: The cases of Madinat Ilbirah (Granada) and Cercadilla (Cordova), in Quaternary International 460 (2017), 86–96. García-García, M., Explotación y consumo de los animales en el sureste de la península ibérica durante la Alta Edad Media (siglos vii–xii): perspectivas históricas y arqueozoológicas, PhD diss., Universidad de Granada, in progress. González, C., Las mezquitas de barrio de Madīnat Qurtuba 15 años después: espacios religiosos urbanos en la capital andalusí, in Anales de Arqueología Cordobesa 27 (2016), 267–292. González, J., Inscripciones mozárabes de Andalucía, Athenaica 2016. Hidalgo, R., Análisis arquitectónico del Complejo Monumental de Cercadilla (Córdoba), in Coloquio Internacional: Colonia Patricia Corduba, una reflexión arqueológica, Córdoba 1996, 235–248. Hidalgo, R., Lampadio, Obispo de Córdoba, in Asociación Arte, Arqueología de Córdoba 6 (1999), 89–93. Hidalgo, R., Sobre la cristianización de la topografía de la Córdoba tardoantigua: el caso del palacio de Cercadilla, in Arqueologia da antiguidade na Penísula Ibérica. Actas do 3° Congresso de Arqueologia Peninsular 6 (2000), 741–748. Hidalgo, R., De edificio imperial a complejo de culto: la ocupación cristiana del Pala-

270

fuertes santos and hidalgo prieto

cio de Cercadilla, in D. Vaquerizo (ed.), Espacios y usos funerarios en el Occidente Romano, Córdoba, vol. 2, Córdoba 2002, 343–372. Hidalgo, R., La puerta del “Palatium de Corduba,” in Romvla 6 (2007), 143–172. Hidalgo, R., ¿Fue Cercadilla una villa? El problema de la función del complejo de Cercadilla en Corduba, in Archivo Español de Arqueología 87 (2014), 217–241. Hidalgo, R., Aspetti dell’interpretazione del complesso palatino di Cercadilla a Cordova, in La villa restaurata e i nuovi studi sull’edilizia residenziale tardoantica. Atti del convegno internazionale del Centro Interuniversitario di studi sull’edilizia abitativa tardoantica nel Mediterraneo (cisem) (Piazza-Armerina 7–10 novembre 2012), Bari 2014, 533–542. Hidalgo, R., El complejo monumental de Cercadilla: Las transformaciones cristianas, in Actas xvi Congressvs Internationalis Archaeologiae Christianae, Città del Vaticano: Pontificio Istituto di archeologia cristiana 2016, 523–552. Hidalgo, R., Cercadilla, palacio tardoantiguo, in Las villas romanas de la Bética, vol. 2, Sevilla 2017, 116–126. Hidalgo, R., and M.C. Fuertes, Córdoba entre la antigüedad clásica y el Islam. Las transformaciones de la ciudad a partir de la información de las excavaciones de Cercadilla, in Cuadernos emeritenses 17 (2001), 223–264. Hidalgo, R., and A. Ventura, Sobre la cronología e interpretación del palacio de Cercadilla en Corduba, in Chiron 24 (1994), 221–240. Hidalgo, R., et al., Excavaciones arqueológicas en el yacimiento de Cercadilla, in Anuario Arqueológico de Andalucía 1993/ iii Actividades de Urgencia, Sevilla 1993, 132– 148. Hidalgo, R., et al., El criptopórtico de Cercadilla. Análisis arquitectónico y secuencia estratigráfica, Sevilla 1996. Mariana, A. Sancti Viatores: predicaciones, visiones, apariciones y traslado de reliquias en Andalucía (siglos v–xvii), in Historia. Instituciones. Documentos 39 (2012), 153– 183. Ramírez, L., Los mozárabes de Córdoba. Una aproximación preliminar a la necrópolis de Cercadilla, in Arte, Arqueología e Historia 10 (2003), 79–84. Rodero, S., and M.J. Asensi, Nuevos datos sobre la necrópolis tardoantigua de “el Ochavillo” (Hornachuelos, Córdoba). Campaña de excavación 2007, in Romvla 7 (2008), 271–298. Serrano, J.L., J. Cano, and V. Salvatierra, El Jaén islámico. Las monedas y la identificación de las primeras fases de la ciudad, in iv Jarique de Numismática Andalusí (2001), 95– 109.

chapter 12

The Ceremonial Ensemble of the Umayyad Caliphate at Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ Antonio Vallejo-Triano

The adoption of the title of caliph by ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii (ʿAbd al-Raḥmān alNāṣir li-Dīn Allāh) in 929 marked the evolution of al-Andalus during that century, as it introduced this territory in the Islamic West to a new political scenario with a Mediterranean scope, where it competed with the powers of the time. Most of the historiography agrees in attributing the reasons for this transcendental political event to the emergence of the Fatimid Caliphate in Ifrīqiya that had a Shiʿite orientation, through which a political, military, and ideological struggle would be waged to gain control over the Western Mediterranean.1 The changes directly related to this new political situation were of various kinds. Some of them were immediate, such as the minting of gold coins in 317ah/929–930ce, while others had been planned for several years, such as the construction of a new seat of power, Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ. Both events formed part of the prerogatives of caliphal dignity and can be understood as a response to the situation that arose with this caliphate. On the one hand, the resumption of gold currency seems to have aimed to implement a gifts policy to attract Berber allies—a policy that under al-Ḥakam ii entailed the distribution of enormous sums of money—and the acquisition of luxury goods from abroad for the court, as well as payments to senior officials and military commanders.2 On the other hand, the new seat of power was constructed in accordance with the political and ideological demands of the time that were already fulfilled by the Abbasid and Fatimid caliphs by building a city as the official residence of the caliphate and the political capital of the state shared with Cordoba.3 1 Among other authors, this cause has been strongly defended by Acién, Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ en el urbanismo musulmán 16; Guichard, Omeyyades et Fatimides 55; and previously by other researchers, especially Brunschvig, and Canard, L’imperialisme des Fatimides 163. Some Arab authors, such as al-Ḥumaydī and al-Nuwayrī, have already indicated the proclamation of the caliphate by al-Mahdī as the main cause of the measure taken by ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii, alMaqqarī, The History ii, note 40, 467–468. 2 Manzano Moreno, Coinage and the tributary 408–409; Ballestín Navarro, Jilʿa y monedas. On the problems of the gold supply, see Canto García, El dinar 327–338. 3 Acién Almansa, Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ en el urbanismo musulmán 15; Acién Almansa and Vallejo

© Antonio Vallejo-Triano, 2023 | doi:10.1163/9789004524156_013

272

vallejo-triano

The historiography has highlighted several aspects of the Abbasid palatial tradition that were assimilated in the conception of Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ: the rupture of the dār al-imāra/mosque model, the relationship with the landscape and large open spaces, the incorporation of extensive gardens, the separation between the public and private areas, and the adoption of regular ceremonial norms and procedures.4 In other features, however, some connections with the first two Fatimid capitals of al-Mahdiyya (915–921) and Ṣabra al-Manṣūriyya (947–948) have recently been proposed.5 Indeed, although the Fatimid and Umayyad capitals clearly differ in certain regards, they share essential features, such as: the urban separation between the mosque and the caliph’s residence, first established in the West in al-Mahdiyya; the palace’s importance and its division into sectors; the location of the caliph’s residence at the highest point; the minor importance given to the mosque in the foundational process; the reuse of preexisting hydraulic infrastructures; and, in the case of Ṣabra, the similarity of the city’s surface area to Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ (110 and 112 ha, respectively). To this we must add the novelty of placing two palaces for political receptions opposite one another in the alcazar (al-qaṣr), one for the caliph and the other for the heir apparent, as we shall see in the following pages.

1

The Alcazar

The upper, mountainous part of Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ corresponds to the alcazar, where the seat of power of the caliphate state was located. Its hypothetical extension, about 20 ha, of which only 10 ha have been excavated (fig. 12.1),6 not only distinguishes it from the enormous size of the Abbasid palaces but also from the Fatimid palace of Ṣabra al-Manṣūriyya, which with its estimated 35 ha spans almost twice the surface area of the Umayyad palace.7 In the excavated part, the alcazar comprises an extensive conglomerate of interconnected buildings and spaces of different types that had three major functions: the residence of the caliph and crown prince, with all the services

4 5 6 7

Triano, Urbanismo y Estado islámico 124–126, 133–134; Mazzoli-Guintard, Remarques sur le fonctionnement 57–64. Among others, see Necipoğlu, An outline 5–10; Ruggles, Gardens 86–109; Northedge, The historical topography 132–148, 254; El Cheikh, The institutionalisation 370. Cressier and Vallejo Triano, Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ et Ṣabra al-Manṣūriyya 153, 154, 163. Vallejo Triano, La ciudad califal, 123, 223. Cressier and Vallejo Triano, Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ et Ṣabra al-Manṣūriyya 158. For one of the two large Fatimid palatial complexes in Cairo (eastern palace), however, an area of 12 ha has been calculated based on the text of al-Maqrīzī, see Bloom, Arts of the city 66.

figure 12.1

Hypothetical ground plan of the alcazar © conjunto arqueológico madinat al-zahra

the ceremonial ensemble of the umayyad caliphate

273

274

vallejo-triano

necessary for everyday life and to ensure the proper functioning of the palace; the administrative headquarters of the Umayyad state, which involved the installation of its most important government institutions and the residence of its highest-ranking officials; and a center for the ceremonial and political representation of the caliphate. This functional conception is similar to that which the historiography has shown with respect to the great Abbasid palaces of the 9th and 10th centuries, from the dār al-khilāfa of al-Muʿtāsim in Samarra (begun in 836) to the dār al-khilāfa of Caliph al-Muqtadir in Baghdad between 908–932.8 The Fatimid palace was also distinguished for being a center of knowledge and Ismaʿili propaganda, the seat of luxury manufactures,9 and, in the case of Cairo, the dynastic mausoleum.10 This heterogeneous ensemble of excavated buildings does not correspond to the continued building activity of the three caliphs who lived in the alcazar.11 On the contrary, the palace underwent countless refurbishment processes in just a few decades, but there are two major urban and architectural phases that resulted, grosso modo, in the palace we know today from excavations.12 The first phase, which we call foundational, began in 936 or 940, during which a large section of the excavated area that can be seen today was built, including the Aljama Mosque in 944–945. The second corresponds to an extensive urban and architectural renovation of the same space, whose first chronological record is marked by the construction of the Hall of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii, also known as the “Salón Rico” (Rich Hall), from 342/953–954 to 345/956–957, and the socalled “Central Pavilion,” also built in those same years.13 The former was the main political reception hall of the Umayyad Caliphate and the most important architectural accomplishment arising from that renovation. It continued during the caliphate of al-Ḥakam ii (961–976), who also added new constructions.14 During this complex restructuring, the built terraces were enlarged, 8 9 10 11

12

13 14

See, respectively, Northedge, The historical topography 132–148; and El Cheikh, The “court” of al-Muqtadir 321. Cressier and Vallejo Triano, Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ et Ṣabra al-Manṣūriyya 153. Leisten, Dynastic tomb 473–479. Other mausoleums of the royal family were located outside the palace and have been excavated, Gayraud, Le Qarāfa al-Kubrā. Namely, ʿAbd al-Raḥmān al-Nāṣir li-Dīn Allāh (ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii, d. 961), al-Ḥakam alMustanṣir bi-Llāh (al-Ḥakam ii, d. 976), and Hishām al-Muʾayyad bi-Llāh (Hishām ii, d. 1013?). These two major building phases have been analyzed in detail in Vallejo Triano, La ciudad califal 465–501; a summary of the reform phase can be found in Vallejo Triano, Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ: Transformation 12–26. Ocaña Jiménez, Inscripciones árabes; Martínez Núñez, La epigrafía del Salón 111–126, 129– 134. Martínez Núñez, Epígrafes; Ibn Ḥayyān, Anales palatinos 99–100, 111. The reforms that we

the ceremonial ensemble of the umayyad caliphate

275

both in width and length, old buildings were demolished, others were constructed, and various spaces were remodeled. Particularly important were the extension of the alcazar towards the east, which included the creation of a large “scenographic” façade to provide monumental access to this renovated palace, and the construction of the wall that encloses the alcazar on the outline of an earlier fence.. The functionality of the large buildings constructed in this major refurbishment phase had two main objectives: on the one hand, to centralize the administrative institutions of the state and install them in the upper platform of the alcazar; and on the other, to create a new ceremonial ensemble and a place of political representation in the lower platform. This second aspect is this paper’s object of interest because the ceremonial and representational activity determined the greatest changes in the palace’s urban layout and architecture, and because it accurately reflects both the administrative structure of the state and the political and ideological ambitions of the Umayyad Caliphate in response to the Fatimid Caliphate. We will not examine the ceremonial in the majlis nor compare it to that of other caliphates; certain aspects of which have already been dealt with in classic works, such as that of Barceló, which requires a revision of the occupation of the space in the reception hall, and those of Safran and Stetkevych, who from different angles provide a more precise and complete vision of its function as an instrument of ideological and political legitimacy, and to which must be added partial and comparative approaches, such as those of Cardoso and Fierro.15 From among the many sources on Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, chronicles and other literary genres,16 the common thread for our textual knowledge of the palace will be the Muqtabis vii; an extraordinary chronicle of the court written by ʿĪsā b. Aḥmad al-Rāzī and transmitted by Ibn Ḥayyān, which provides detailed knowledge of state life between the years 971 and 975.17 Much of this account

15

16

17

can attribute to the caliphate of Hisam ii (976–1013?) are minor and not well-defined in their objectives. See, respectively, Barceló, El Califa patente 155–175 (English translation, The manifest caliph 425–455); Safran, The second Umayyad caliphate, particularly 70–97; Stetkevych, The qaṣīdah, 1–48; Cardoso, The scenography of power; and Fierro, Pompa y ceremonia. Some of the main accounts about the city are compiled in Labarta and Barceló, Las fuentes árabes; Meouak, Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ en las fuentes; Puerta Vílchez, Ensoñación y construcción. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabis fī akhbār (Spanish translation, Ibn Ḥayyān, Anales palatinos). Wide use of this text to explain the political, social, and economic life of al-Andalus during the central years of the caliphate has been made by Manzano Moreno, La corte del califa.

276

vallejo-triano

is dedicated to the political and ceremonial activity in the caliphal city: it describes the route followed by the entourages, indicates the names of places and buildings through which they passed, and provides the contextual relationship between them, that is, the order and sequence until reaching the caliphal majlis. Although this source is limited to the final years of the caliphate of alḤakam,18 the vision it offers of the processional route and places of reception can be extended to the whole of his caliphate and to part of the last decade of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii, that is, between circa 956 and 976. The reason for this is that all the buildings that were part of the route followed by the entourages resulted from the great urban renovation of the mid-950s. Moreover, from an archaeological standpoint we are certain that the excavated area of the alcazar, which corresponds to its central zone, constitutes the scene in which a large part of the ceremonial activities narrated in these sources took place.19 Hence, we will relate the textual information to the excavated archaeological structures.

2

The Preceding Years

The written sources allude to the celebration of some audiences and political reception ceremonies in Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ prior to the completion of the Salón Rico in 956–957, located within a terrace that is known today as the “High Garden.” Al-Maqqarī mentions, on one hand, that Byzantine ambassadors who arrived in 949 were honored with a military parade and received in the alcazar of Cordoba by Caliph al-Nāṣir, who moved from Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ specifically for this purpose;20 and on the other hand, that the caliph received these ambassadors two other times in the same year in the alcazar of al-Zahrāʾ, one of them in a hall named al-majlis al-mushrif (noble hall), situated over the gardens (alā al-riyāḍ).21 18

19 20

21

It is important to note the lack of court chronicles from 942—the date on which the previous preserved chronicle ends, the well-known Muqtabis v (Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabas v; Spanish translation, Crónica del califa)—to 971, the year in which the chronicle known as Muqtabis vii, to which we refer, begins. As Hernández Giménez had already pointed out in Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ 23. Al-Maqqarī, Nafḥ al-ṭīb 1, 366–367; Puerta Vílchez, Ensoñación y construcción 326. This reception was held in the majlis al-zāhir, a 9th-century hall which was decorated and draped with curtains and tapestries for the occasion. Al-Maqqarī, Azhār al-riyāḍ 2, 260. The problem of the number and dates of the receptions held for the Byzantine ambassadors is well known due to the lack of agreement and the contradiction among sources, see Signes Codoñ er, Bizancio y al-Andalus 212–224.

the ceremonial ensemble of the umayyad caliphate

277

In the 940s and 950s, the comings and goings of embassies and emissaries to Cordoba to forge alliances with the Berber chiefs were very frequent, and it is mentioned that some of them were received by the caliph in the new city, without specifying exactly where this took place.22 As regards the reception for John of Gorze, emissary of Otto i, that was probably held in 956, the sources do not clarify where the celebration took placed, in Cordoba or Madīnat alZahrāʾ.23 According to them, the reception with the caliph was private, as only Caliph al-Nāṣir and the monk of Gorze attended, although the entire military apparatus was deployed to accompany him from his place of residence to the palace gate. To date, no buildings have been preserved that can be clearly associated with political receptions prior to the construction of the Salón Rico. However, on the terrace of the High Garden there is a set of scattered archaeological remains that allow us to assert the existence of an earlier garden in the same place, with a decorated building and at least one pool.24 Given the continuity of functions that we observe in other sectors of the alcazar between the foundational phase and the refurbishment phase, this area of the High Garden must have already had a representative political function. In other words, this area must have been the seat of the reception hall mentioned by al-Maqqarī in 949. The first grand political reception to be held at Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, in this case for a Christian monarch from the north of the peninsula, seems to have taken place in 347ah/958ce when ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii received Queen Regent Toda Aznárez of Navarre, her son García Sánchez i, king of Navarre, and her grandson Sancho i, deposed king of León. We have no direct information about the specific building in which this reception was held, nor do we know the route it followed or the characteristics of the protocol established for the occasion.25 We do, however, have indirect information that allows us to infer that the ceremonial stage of Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ was already built at that time. As concerns the reception given to Ordoño iv in 962, the first for which we have a detailed description of both the ceremonial route inside the alcazar and the ceremony 22 23

24

25

Some of these embassies of the 940s are described by Lévi-Provençal, España Musulmana 316–317. Valdés Fernández (La embajada de Otón i, 547) suggests that it did not take place in the new city. The embassy’s account can be found in Paz and Meliá, Fuentes para la historia 123–150. The building has completely disappeared but some of its decorative materials are preserved, one with an epigraphic legend, which clearly predates those of the Salón Rico, see Martínez Núñez, Recientes hallazgos epigráficos 13–14. There is a short account of this embassy and its reception in al-Maqqarī and a brief mention in Ibn Khaldūn, see Martínez Díez, El Condado de Castilla 412–413.

278

vallejo-triano

itself, we know that it was held in the majlis al-sharqī (eastern hall), and all the buildings that appear in the Muqtabis vii are already mentioned (Bāb al-sudda, dār al-jund, majlis al-sharqī, and majlis al-gharbī).26 It is also important to note that this stage corresponded to the one seen by Queen Toda and her illustrious companions, as the chronicler states that Ordoño waited to be received by Caliph al-Ḥakam at the same place—dār al-jund—where his enemy and rival, Sancho i, had been received a few years prior; and at one point in the interview, the deposed monarch of León alludes to the reception held for his cousin Sancho in that same city (Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ).27 Therefore, according to this information, the ceremonial stage of the alcazar was most likely already built in 957, at least its most important buildings. The funeral of Caliph al-Nāṣir in November 961 corroborate this, since the first bayʿa (oath of allegiance) to the new caliph, al-Ḥakam ii, was held in a hall located in al-saṭḥ al-mumarrad (the elongated terrace), and the same buildings and route as in the subsequent receptions in 971–975 are mentioned.28

3

Palace Renovation and Institutionalization of the Ceremonial

There is no question that the celebration of the great receptions was clearly linked to the large urban restructuring carried out in the city and the palace in the mid-950s. As we have already stated elsewhere,29 this renovation entailed two fundamental changes. The first was the extension of the alcázar towards the east, due to which the processional route of the embassies to reach the caliph was notably lengthened. The second was the construction of two buildings for political receptions, the well-known Hall of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii (Salón Rico) and the so-called Central Pavilion, together with the refurbishment of the garden in which they are integrated. 3.1 Extension of the Palace and the Ceremonial Route The military might of the caliphate was displayed in both the preparations for campaigns that included a parade and a review of the troops (al-ʿarḍ), as well as in the festive reception of the victorious army after campaigns and in milit-

26 27 28

29

The reception is described by al-Maqqarī, Nafḥ al-ṭīb 1, 389–393. Al-Maqqarī, Nafḥ al-ṭīb 1, 389–391. Al-Maqqarī, Nafḥ al-ṭīb 1, 386–388. The processional sequence indicated by al-Maqqarī is bāb al-aqbāʾ (gate of the vaults), bāb al-sudda (gate of the state), and dār al-jund (house of the army). Vallejo Triano, La ciudad califal, especially 140–154, 492–493.

the ceremonial ensemble of the umayyad caliphate

279

ary parades organized to receive ambassadors (al-burūz).30 The parades were a demonstration of power and an essential element of the Umayyad ceremonial.31 Along the road that the ambassadors traveled with their retinue, and escorted by army troops, soldiers were arranged in two rows in such a way that they mobilized an enormous number of men. Not only did the different corps of the regular army participate in them but also other forces and cavalry detachments that contributed, “at their own expense, the servants and ṣaqāliba of the Alcázar,” as well as the inhabitants of Cordoba, “capable of the service of arms,” whom the government equipped expressly for the entourage.32 The two cities of Cordoba and Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ and the territory laying between them constituted the processional space, especially the territory between the sites where the embassies were welcomed—country estates (munyas) or houses in the medina of Cordoba or the suburbs—and the new caliphal city.33 It is significant that the bridges still preserved on these roads have a width of more than eight meters, which can only be explained for the purpose of moving troops and this ceremonial function.34 Within Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ the entire urban space was used for these military parades, which were staged between the outer gate of the city and the caliphal majlis and involved many government officials. The entourages entered through the city’s southern gate, the Bāb al-ṣūra (gate of the statue), and after crossing the entire urban area to the north were obliged to turn west to enter the alcazar. The fact that this part of the medina has not been excavated makes it difficult, for the time being, to know the layout of this section of the ceremonial route, so the proposals we put forward are hypothetical and alternative (fig. 12.2). It should be noted that the extension of the palace towards the east also led to the construction of a new entrance gate to the alcazar, so that the original exterior entrance became an interior gate and

30 31

32

33

34

Vallejo Triano, La ciudad califal, 124–125. Safran (The second Umayyad caliphate 82–88) provides a good explanation of the sequence of military ceremonies that took place over several days until the final reception by the caliph. According to Ibn Ḥayyān (al-Muqtabis fī akhbār, 47–48; Anales palatinos 66–67, 237) the parade organized for Jaʿfar b. ʻAlī’s reception mobilized 16,000 perfectly equipped men. Recently, Labarta (Parada militar 276) has confirmed this account and demonstrated through archaeological materials how the population was equipped. On the palatial characteristics of these country estates owned by the family of the caliph or senior government officials, see Anderson, The Islamic villa. The only case that has been studied is that of the munyat al-Rummāniyya, see Arnold, Canto García, and Vallejo Triano, Munyat ar-Rummaniya. Vallejo Triano, La ciudad califal, 80, 84–85, 91, 492–493.

280

vallejo-triano

its structure was monumentalized by building an impressive arcaded gallery of 14 arches before its old enclosure wall (fig. 12.3). Extending from north to south on the upper terrace of the alcázar, the function of this large portico, which in all likelihood can be identified as the Bāb al-sudda (gate of the state),35 was not only to provide the most important nucleus of the palace with a symbolic, monumental façade but also to serve as a support for the pavilion or enclosed balcony on top of the central arch, whose existence is attested to by the materials that appeared in the excavation adjacent to the arch.36 At some point, the military contingents that formed in the front square must have been inspected and reviewed from this pavilion.37 These two gates appear in the account of the ceremonies held on the occasion of the funeral of al-Nāṣir38 and in the account of the processional route of Ordoño iv on the day he was received by the caliph at Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ: the first, and hence the outer one, that is, the entrance from the medina to the alcazar, was called Bāb al-ʿaqbāʾ (gate of the vaults), and the second, the inner one, Bāb al-sudda (gate of the state), from which access was gained to the dār al-jund (house of the army). However, in Muqtabis vii, Ibn Ḥayyān alludes only to this second gate probably because of its singular importance from a ceremonial standpoint: it was the emblematic entrance to the palace, in the same manner as the gate of the same name in the alcazar of Cordoba had been the main one since the emirate period,39 and it also allowed the size of the retinue and their cavalries to be filtered, since part of the embassy’s entourage was obliged to continue on foot from that point on. The Bāb al-sudda also possessed an extraordinary symbolic meaning because it served to identify the Umayyad state and administration, and hence the group of buildings of which it was comprised and to which it gave access.40 It was also the symbol of caliphal justice in both the alcazar of Cordoba and

35

36 37

38 39 40

This identification was proposed by Ruggles, Gardens 64–65. Other archaeological and textual arguments can be found in Vallejo Triano, La ciudad califal, 226–227, 269, 379, 416, 420 and 493–494. Vallejo Triano, La ciudad califal, 379. Although none of the ceremonial accounts mention the presence of the caliph in presidential roles or inspecting troops, this pavilion, probably built in al-Nāṣir’s final years, must have been used for this purpose by the caliph or the crown prince. The task of reviewing and inspecting the troops was ultimately delegated to the viziers, as described by Ibn Ḥayyān, Anales palatinos 150. Al-Maqqarī, Nafḥ al-ṭīb 1, 388. Torres Balbás, Bāb al-Sudda 165–171. This symbolic meaning is widely documented in Ibn Ḥayyān, Anales Palatinos 62, 128, 159, 165, 191, and 215.

figure 12.2

Interpretative map of the city with hypothetical indication of the route to the alcazar © conjunto arqueológico madinat al-zahra

the ceremonial ensemble of the umayyad caliphate

281

282

vallejo-triano

figure 12.3

Great portico of Bāb al-sudda © conjunto arqueológico madinat al-zahra

Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, although the latter did not have the function of the former as a site of public executions of prisoners of war and traitors to the state.41 After passing through this emblematic gate, there were several intermediate stages in the journey until reaching the hall where political receptions were held, of which the two main ones were dār al-jund and dār al-wuzarāʾ (house of the viziers). The route to dār al-jund was marked by a series of corridors ( fuslān, sing. fasīl) that can be identified as the ramped streets with stone benches on both sides leading to the square in front of the building (figs. 12.4 and 12.5).42 In relation to dār al-jund, the accepted hypothesis among researchers is its identification with the so-called upper basilical hall.43

41 42 43

Acién Almansa (Sobre el papel de la ideología 962) highlights the importance of the “gates of justice” as a characteristic element of Islamic social formation. For more on these fuslān, see Labarta and Barceló, Las fuentes árabes 98–99. Some arguments for this identification can also be found in Vallejo Triano, La ciudad califal, 494. F. Arnold has proposed the identification of this building, first with majlis alsharqī (Islamic palace Architecture 79–80) and more recently with majlis al-gharbī (The

the ceremonial ensemble of the umayyad caliphate

figure 12.4

283

Ramped streets © conjunto arqueológico madinat al-zahra

Among the other functions of this building, the role of dār al-jund in the ceremonial—which is what interests us here—was important, as it served as a waiting room for some of the most important groups that attended the audiences held at the caliphal majlis, such as the ambassadors themselves and the the people of Quraysh.44 The architecture of this building, which has a basilical ground plan with five interconnected longitudinal naves (bahws) and a transverse front nave (muʿtariḍ), is suitable for this function, as all of them waited according to a strict hierarchical order: the highest-ranking embassy officials always occupied the central bahw, while members of their entourage remained in the muʿtariḍ in front of the bahws.45 These interior movements were marked by a precise ritual and protocol that can be gleaned from the architectural structure itself. Following the processional sequence of the entourages described in Muqtabis vii, the last stage prior to the caliphal majlis was the dār al-wuzarāʾ, for which we propose its identification with a large, quadrangular building loc-

44 45

evolution 328, fig. 14), without giving any reasons for these proposals. Ibn Ḥayyān, Anales palatinos, 70, 81, 153, 197, 238. The muʿtariḍ cannot be identified with the square in front of this building, as Arnold does, The evolution 328–329, fig. 14. See Labarta and Barceló, Las fuentes árabes 100.

284

figure 12.5

vallejo-triano

Ground plan of the upper platform indicating the ceremonial route © conjunto arqueológico madinat al-zahra

the ceremonial ensemble of the umayyad caliphate

285

ated in the southeast corner of the square.46 This important institution of the administrative structure of the Umayyad state was also the last place to access this route on horseback, as here the viziers would descend on ceremonial days to occupy their daises until they were summoned to the caliphal majlis. The building communicated with the lower terrace by means of a staircase and, therefore, with the caliph’s rooms adjacent to the Hall of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii. Strictly speaking, this building did not play a major role in the ceremonial of the political receptions, since it was only a place of passage, which the embassies did not enter. However, it was important in the caliphal ceremonial as the seat of the Umayyad chancery, although the explanation of this aspect goes beyond the scope of this work. After dār al-wuzarāʾ there is no mention of further stages until the caliphal reception hall itself. Given that the two majālis mentioned in the sources, as we shall now see, are located on the lower platform of the alcazar, nine meters below the upper one, the route from dār al-wuzarāʾ must have descended through corridors and ramps that are not preserved. How the two levels were connected is one of the least known and most complex aspects of Madīnat alZahrāʾ due to the extensive destruction of these structures. Therefore, at the present time, we can only reasonably propose a hypothesis about this connection (fig. 12.5).47 3.2 Construction of the Ceremonial Ensemble Al-Muqtabis vii mentions two buildings used for political representation during the caliphate of al-Ḥakam ii that span this chronicle (971–975): al-majlis al-sharqī (eastern hall) and al-majlis al-gharbī (western hall).48 It is precisely the duality of these buildings, designed to simultaneously hold the caliph’s and the crown prince’s ceremonies, that allow us to speak of a “ceremonial ensemble” and not of a single representation hall. The majlis al-sharqī is the hall in which all the large caliphal audiences that took place at Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ were held until the definitive transfer of 46

47 48

The arguments for this proposed identification and the architectural characteristics and functions of this singular building, largely damaged due to the pillaging of its walls, can be found in Vallejo Triano, La ciudad califal 494–496. See also Almagro, The dwellings 47, 49. The building was conventionally named by Hernández Giménez (Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, 54) as the “Patio de los Relojes” (Courtyard of the Sundials) due to the remains of three sundials discovered during its excavation. See Vallejo Triano, La ciudad califal 270–276, fig. 28. Of note, Ibn Ḥayyān (Anales palatinos 69–70) mentions an al-majlis al-qiblī, a building which Labarta and Barceló (Las fuentes árabes 100) suggest may be the al-majlis al-sharqī or perhaps a copy error.

286

vallejo-triano

al-Ḥakam ii to Cordoba in 975. These ceremonies were of various kinds: to celebrate the religious festivities of ʿīd al-fiṭr (feast of the breaking of the fast) and ʿīd al-aḍḥā (feast of sacrifice), the celebration of war victories, and the submission or acceptance of enemies, and the reception of embassies.49 This building was therefore the main space for the representation of the Umayyad Caliphate. The majlis al-gharbī is also mentioned in those same years. Here, Prince Hishām was saluted by senior state officials on the day of his official presentation as heir in 974, and a few days he later gave a reception simultaneously with the one his father held in al-majlis al-sharqī for much of the state’s administrative elite and members of society on the occasion of the celebration of eīd al-aḍḥā and the arrival of the Idrisid Banū Guennun (Qannūn).50 In those years, therefore, the Umayyad ceremonial included a double and simultaneous reception, one by the caliph and one by the crown prince.51 This hall also had another important social and festive function, as it was the venue for the banquets that concluded some of these grand ceremonies52 and could have also served as an occasional meeting place for the ḥājib and ambassadors during the years when the caliphate had no heir.53 According to the sources, both were located in a place sometimes referred to as al-saṭḥ al-ʿālī (high terrace)54 and other times as al-saṭḥ al-mumarrad (elongated terrace or polished terrace).55 Both were also in an area with gardens (alā al-riyāḍ)56 and, more importantly, the two buildings were located opposite one another so that the dais of the caliph and that of the heir faced each other, as the chronicler points out on the occasion of two simultaneous ceremonies held in 974.57 This intrinsic relationship between the two halls is also manifested in the sources as they are considered parts of a unitary whole whose name is imprecise. In different places in Anales palatinos, García Gómez translated the name of the ensemble as the majālis al-ajrāʾ (plenary halls), using question marks to 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57

Safran, The second Umayyad caliphate 70–97; Barceló, El Califa patente (English translation, The manifest caliph). Ibn Ḥayyān, Anales palatinos, 69–70, 152–153, 223, 239–242. The last celebration we know of, that of ʿīd al-fiṭr in 975, was held in the alcazar of Cordoba and also included two simultaneous receptions, Ibn Ḥayyān, Anales palatinos 271–272. Ibn Ḥayyān, Anales palatinos 171. This is the interpretación that can be deduced from al-Maqqarī, Nafḥ al-ṭīb 1, 391. Ibn Ḥayyān, Anales palatinos 51–52, 69, 70, 105, 153, 171, 222, 223, 239, 240. Ibn Ḥayyān, Anales palatinos 196; al-Maqqarī, Nafḥ al-ṭīb 1, 387. Ibn Ḥayyān, Anales palatinos 196, 222, 223, 239; Labarta and Barceló, Las fuentes árabes 100–101. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabis fī akhbār 184, 200; Ibn Ḥayyān, Anales palatinos 223, 241. I thank C. Barceló for the translation.

the ceremonial ensemble of the umayyad caliphate

287

indicate doubts due to its uncertain meaning in the context in which the name is employed,58 while in the Arabic edition the publisher opted for majālis alumarāʾ (halls of the emirs).59 The latter name is more in keeping with the identification of the buildings destined to be used by the caliph and the crown prince, since amīr (pl. umarāʾ) is a polysemous word that designates those who hold power and, in this context, refers to both the ruling caliph and the dynastic heir.60 From an archaeological standpoint, all the features mentioned in the written sources converge in the terrace where the High Garden is located (fig. 12.6).61 The horizontal shape and extension of this terrace, occupied by an immense garden, its elevation above the urban complex, and the presence of its imposing wall seen from the south, from where it is most clearly perceived, fit perfectly with the descriptions “high” and “elongated” indicated in the texts. To this must be added the reflections produced by its four pools and, in particular, the admiration caused by the great gleaming white marble slabs of its floors; a material that was first used in al-Andalus to pave large surfaces such as these halls.62 We are far from determining how the preexisting terrace, already destined for a representative political function, was adapted to build the new ceremonial ensemble. However, we do know that in addition to the two large halls that comprise this ensemble, the most important building changes were: the demolition of the initial hall, of which only fragments of its architectural decoration have been preserved; the modification of the previous garden with the construction of a new hydraulic system formed by four pools and a network of irrigation channels, which replaced the earlier pool and the old irrigation channels; the closure of two directly accessible linear roads that linked the space of the medina to the alcazar and crossed the terrace longitudinally from the south, one at its eastern end and the other at the western end; and the construction

58 59 60

61 62

Ibn Ḥayyān, Anales palatinos 70, 153, 223, 239, especially, 241. Labarta and Barceló, Las fuentes árabes 100. The chronicle sources of the caliphate, both Muqtabis v and Muqtabis vii, clearly illustrate this meaning, which has also been documented in the palace epigraphy, e.g., Martínez Núñez and Acién Almansa, La epigrafía de Madīnat al-Zahrā 109, fig. 2. In addition to walī al-ʿahd, Hishām is also called amīr in Muqtabis vii, see García Sanjuán, Legalidad islámica 53–54, 56. See the arguments in Vallejo Triano, El heredero designado y el califa 447–455. Vallejo Triano, La ciudad califal 355–358, 363–364. This would justify the meaning of alsaṭḥ al-mumarrad as “polished terrace” and its assimilation with ṣaḥr mumarrad (polished palace), which is also used in the sources and comes from the Quran (27:44) in allusion to the glass-paved palace Solomon built to receive the Queen of Sheba, see Puerta Vílchez, Ensoñación 324.

288

vallejo-triano

figure 12.6

Terrace of the High Garden and Hall of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii: Interior and ground plan © conjunto arqueológico madinat al-zahra

of a wing of rooms with a bath on the northeastern side, all paved with white marble, in the place previously occupied by other rooms that were demolished. One of the most surprising aspects of this renovation was the topographical modification of the entire terrace, as all the new constructions were located 1.20–1.40m below the level of the previous ones.63 From an architectural viewpoint, we have also identified the two large halls of the terrace, the Hall of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii (the “Rich Hall”) and what is now called the Central Pavilion, with the two majālis mentioned in the sources: the first with al-sharqī (the eastern) and the second with al-gharbī (the western) (fig. 12.7).64 This identification is based on the topographical position of the two buildings, which face each other and are separated only by a pool reflecting the two opposite facades; their similar chronology, since they were built by Caliph al-Nāṣir between 342–345ah/ 953/4–956/7ce, as evidenced by their epigraphic texts in which the Umayyad sovereign bears the highest possible honorary titles;65 their similar basilical architectural structure with longitudinal naves— five in the Salón Rico and three in the Central Pavilion—and a transverse nave 63

64 65

For more on the refurbishment of this terrace, the closure of roads and the problems of inverted topography, see Vallejo Triano, La ciudad califal, 150–151, 160, 189–190, 456, 473, and especially 486–487 and fig. 26. See note 61. Martínez Núñez, La epigrafía del Salón 111–126, 129–134. The date that work on the Central Pavilion began is not known, only the concluding date in 345ah/956–957ce.

the ceremonial ensemble of the umayyad caliphate

289

which coincides with the structure of bahws and muʿtariḍ indicated in the texts for both buildings;66 and in the case of the Salón Rico, the suitability of its architectural program for providing differentiated access to the various categories of people who took part in the ceremonies: the caliph, his family and senior officials, and the ambassadors.67 To this we must add the importance and novelty of the ornamental program of both buildings in the palatial context. In the case of the Salón Rico, the only building where this decorative program has been replaced (fig. 12.8), the ornamentation covers all the interior walls and the façade and is organized from bottom to top on four large levels: the marble skirting, a wide band adorned with large plant compositions of trees, which constitute the richest and most singular element of the ensemble, the level of decoration associated with the arches with their large polygonal alfiz or frame, and the upper frieze in contact with the wooden ceiling that runs the length of the entire building. According to hypothetic Acién’s astrological interpretation,68 the most important aspect is the close interconnection between the world of nature, symbolized by the panels with representations of tree structures, and the celestial world of the stars, expressed in the star shapes of the upper frieze. As a whole, this decoration must have displayed a cosmography; a representation of the order of the cosmos, unitary and hierarchical, which served to exalt the caliphal power, in which Acién has recognized the philosophical thought of the time, especially Ghāyat al-ḥakīm, the well-known Picatrix.69 The difficulty in identifying these buildings with those mentioned in the sources lies in the fact that they are located almost at the geometrical center of the city and are aligned facing each other in a north-south direction. Given this irresolvable contradiction, we have proposed that the terms “eastern” and “western” should not be understood as geographical indications but rather as having an allegorical meaning.70 66

67 68 69

70

Ibn Ḥayyān, Anales palatinos 69, 70, 81, 153, 239. It is important to remember that although the Central Pavilion has completely disappeared due to the pillaging of its walls, we know its architectural structure thanks to the foundations and the archaeological preservation of its marble floor levels, as well as large amount of its decorative elements. Vallejo Triano, La ciudad califal 491, 495 (lám. 395). Acién Almansa, Materiales e hipótesis 188–191; Acién Almansa, Sobre el papel de la ideología 952, 963–964. Ritter and Plessner, ‘Picatrix’. The author of this work has been appropriately identified by Fierro (Bāṭinism in al-Andalus) as Maslama b. Qāsim al-Qurṭubī (d. 353/964), a philosopher close to the court of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii; in his composition he used Eastern materials of very diverse content and origin, including al-Fārābī and the Rasāʾil Ikhwān al-Ṣafāʾ. The arguments supporting this proposed metaphorical identification have been presented in Vallejo Triano, El heredero designado y el califa 443–455, 458–459.

290

figure 12.7

vallejo-triano

Ground plan of the terrace with the two buildings facing each other: al-majlis al-sharqī and al-majlis al-gharbī © conjunto arqueológico madinat al-zahra

The desire to rule over the entire Islamic world was an inherent aspiration of the caliphate’s political doctrine. In this sense, from the moment the Fatimid Caliphate was proclaimed in Raqqāda in January 910, the central aim of this dynasty’s political program was to conquer the lands of the East and West. This is attested to in the first khuṭba Caliph ʿUbayd Allāh al-Mahdī ordered to be read upon his arrival in the ancient Aghlabid capital: “O God […] Conquer through him [al-Mahdī] the easts of the land and his wests as You promised

the ceremonial ensemble of the umayyad caliphate

figure 12.8

291

Interior of the Hall of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii (al-majlis al-sharqī) © conjunto arqueológico madinat al-zahra

him.”71 This exhortation was repeated on numerous occasions and in writings, both in the khuṭbas written by the crown prince Abū l-Qāsim (the future caliph al-Qāʾim), of which the ʿīd al-fiṭr of 915 is preserved, and in the poetry composed by him on the two expeditions to Egypt in 914–915 and 918.72 According to Qutbuddin, the aspiration of earthly domination was assumed as a dynastic objective by all his successors and is listed by al-Qāḍī al-Nuʿmān as one of the main points of the Mahdist political ideology.73 In this context, the Umayyad chancery had also made its claim to universal domination over the East and West since the same caliphal proclamation in 929, elaborating a propagandistic discourse that was a detailed replica of the Fatimid political propaganda. These proclamations were expressed repeatedly and with varying intensity, first in the correspondence maintained between

71 72

73

Walker, Orations of the Fatimid caliphs 17. For this khuṭba read in Alexandria, on whose strong anti-Abbasid and anti-Fatimid content Walker has remarked, see Orations 14–15 and 87–92, especially 91. For the poetry, see Qutbuddin, Fatimid aspirations 200, 204–205, 231. Qutbuddin, Fatimid aspirations 197–198, 210.

292

vallejo-triano

al-Nāṣir and his Berber allies74 and later in the political poetry recited at the caliphal majlis.75 Some of them are a copy of those delivered by the Fatimid court, such as the one alluding to the “sun that has risen in the West,”76 which comes from the prophetic tradition of Mahdism, even before the proclamation of its caliphate,77 or the prediction, in both discourses, of reaching the Euphrates with squadrons of cavalry and drinking from its waters.78 In this propagandistic competition over aspirations to conquer the world, the two discourses, the Fatimid and the Umayyad, resort to the Quran and seek God for the fulfilment of the promise to help regain, each of them as legitimate heirs,79 the lands that belong only to Him.80 These data suggest that the terrace ensemble has multiple meanings, all of them aimed at exalting the political and religious legitimacy of the caliphate by equating it with the Fatimid Caliphate. The arguments that confirm this desire to equate the two powers are found in the archaeology and the sources. On the one hand, Martínez has demonstrated the use of clearly religious epithets and titles, such as imām, in the monumental epigraphy of the terrace’s two buildings, similar to those used by the Abbasid and Fatimid caliphs.81 On the other hand, Fierro has interpreted the entire terrace and the city as an allegorical representation of paradise, based on Quranic texts and from different literary genres of the time, with which the caliph demonstrated to his Berber allies that through their obedience “he could also ensure their right guidance in this world and their salvation in the other.”82 Equating Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ with paradise formed part of the caliphal propaganda and is explicit in the epigraphy in the Aljama Mosque and other parts of the palace that contain Quranic texts

74 75 76 77 78 79

80

81 82

Fierro, Sobre la adopción del título califal 40. Canard, L’imperialisme des Fatimides 160, note 13; Ibn Ḥayyān, Anales palatinos 73, 203, 204, 273. Ibn Ḥayyān, Anales palatinos 203. Qutbuddin, Fatimid aspirations 198, 200. Also noted by Safran, The second Umayyad caliphate 48 and note 99. Ibn Ḥayyān, Anales palatinos 204; Qutbuddin, Fatimid aspirations 220–221, in a poem by Ibn Hāniʾ composed in 971 in praise of al-Muʿizz following the conquest of Egypt. On the Fatimid side, see Walker, Orations 17, 21, 24, 72; Qutbuddin, Fatimid aspirations 204–205. On the Umayyad side, see Ibn Ḥayyān, Crónica del califa ʿAbdarraḥmān iii 228; Ibn Ḥayyān, Anales palatinos 204. The Quranic suras and ayahs on Allah as Lord of the East and the West or Lord of the two Easts and the two Wests can be found in Q 2:115, 2:142, 26:28, 73:9, 37:5, 55:17, 70:40. In this regard, see the comments of Martínez Núñez, La epigrafía del Salón 144–146, 152. Fierro, Plants, Mary the Copt 127; Fierro, Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ 326–327.

the ceremonial ensemble of the umayyad caliphate

293

alluding to paradise.83 From another perspective, the prominence of the quadripartite garden and its pools, together with the decoration of the Salón Rico, could evoke “the sentiment that the blossoming of the natural world is a direct result of the ruler’s generosity,”84 without forgetting the possible allusion to Solomon’s palace—clearly suggested in the name of the terrace—a mythical figure considered a model king and prophet and builder of marvellous palaces, to whom the poet Ibn ʿAbd Rabbih (d. 328/940) compared ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii himself.85 The proposed hypothetical interpretation of the names of the buildings would add one more element to these multiple meanings. Thus, the names “eastern” and “western” to designate these large halls might also have formed a part of Umayyad ideological imagery by placing them on par with their adversaries when claiming universal hegemony. The terrace and the ceremonial ensemble would, therefore, be charged with both a religious and political meaning. Religious because it also refers to the idea that God is the Lord of the East and the West. Political, because the two halls would constitute the symbolic expression of the utopian aspirations of the Umayyad Caliphate over the lands of Islam, over the East and the West; a representation of the world subjugated through a space dominated by the caliph and his dynastic heir.

4

Urban References

There is no precedent in the tradition of al-Andalus of a specific representation hall for the heir apparent, since we have no news of a similar situation in either the qaṣr of Cordoba or the palace of Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ prior to the urban renovation. Conversely, we do know that the crown prince took part in ceremonies receiving embassies and in religious festivities in the same building as the caliph, together with him and the rest of his brothers.86 Nor does there seem to be any precedent in the Abbasid Caliphate. It is true that in the Baghdad court the crown prince had his own majlis, understood as an institution and building in which to host debates and carry out literary

83 84 85 86

Martínez Núñez and Acién Almansa, La epigrafía de Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ 111–119, 123–126. The ayahs used are Q 25:11, 35:31–34, 39:74. Rosser-Owen, Poems in stone 95. On the importance of the figure of Solomon in the construction of Umayyad legitimacy in the emiral and caliphal al-Andalus, see Elices Ocón, El pasado preislámico 443. This was remarked upon in the reception for the Byzantine embassy of 949, al-Maqqarī, Nafḥ al-ṭīb 1, 366–367.

294

vallejo-triano

activities related to the institution’s functions. We also know that the crown prince held official positions and participated in state ceremonies, especially public processions. However, unlike the Umayyad heir, the prince did not live permanently in the dar al-khilāfa and “he does not seem to have been involved in the real politics of his time.”87 The Fatimid Caliphate may have served as a model for ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii. P.E. Walker has explained the distinctive features and complexity of the procedure for the caliph to “designate” an heir in the Fatimid dynasty, and also how the case of the succession of al-Mahdī by his son Abū l-Qāsim, the future caliph alQāʾim, was an anomalous exception.88 In 912, al-Qāʾim was publicly recognized as heir, long before al-Mahdī died in 934. According to Walker, the reasons for this early designation had to do with the need to establish the continuity of the dynasty and the principle of succession in the recently created caliphate,89 but also because of the fundamental role the heir played in founding the Fatimid Caliphate. He and his father had shared the vicissitudes of the military and confinement in the years prior to the proclamation of the caliphate, and as heir he led the military expeditions to conquer and expand the dynasty, while assuming the duty of composing and pronouncing the khuṭba, instead of al-Mahdī, in the celebration of the great religious festivities.90 This close dynastic relationship also seems to have materialized on an urban level. In al-Mahdiyya, built between 915 and 921 and the first and only Fatimid capital that the Umayyads could have known before the construction of Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ,91 sources indicate that al-Mahdī built two palaces facing each other on opposite sides of a large square, one for the caliph and the other for his son and heir al-Qāʾim.92 Archaeological research has brought to light one of these palaces whose identification has been a matter of debate due to the supposed problem of the 87 88

89 90

91

92

See the study that El Cheikh (To be a prince 211) dedicates to Abū l-ʿAbbās, the first-born son—and later caliph—of the Abbasid sovereign al-Muqtadir. In practice, the procedure consisted in “choosing a son to be groomed for succession whose actual designation was provisionally known only to a trusted third party who was sworn to secrecy. If the imam himself meantime should die, that provisional designation immediately went into effect and became absolute”; Walker, Succession to rule 242. Walker, Succession to rule 243. The Fatimid caliphs were in charge of preparing and reading the khuṭba during religious festivities as a responsibility associated with the imamate, although not everyone did, such as al-Mahdī, who delegated that role to his son al-Qāʾim, see Walker, Orations 13. Everything suggests that al-Nāṣir must have had precise information on how that capital had been planned. Cressier and Vallejo Triano, Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ et Ṣabra al-Manṣūriyya 143. The sources can be found in Halm, The empire of the mahdī 218.

the ceremonial ensemble of the umayyad caliphate

figure 12.9

295

Ground plan of al-Mahdiyya. Author’s own elaboration based on the ground plan of A. Lézine, Mahdiya. Quelques précisions 85 (fig.5).

orientations indicated in the sources, although everything leads to the conclusion that it is the palace of al-Qāʾim, as Louhichi has demonstrated.93 If we accept this interpretation, which is well-founded, the proposal of two palaces facing each other, one to the north, that of al-Mahdī, and the other to the south, that of his heir with his own representation hall, closely evokes the two halls of Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ and their topographical relationship (fig. 12.9). It is likely that the urban reference to this duality of buildings opposite each other is based on the Aghlabid complex of Raqqāda, which was used temporarily as the first dynastic capital and in whose palaces both were installed, as Halm suggests.94 93

94

The data under discussion, apparently resolved after the last excavations, can be found in Louhichi, La mosaïque de Mahdia. An opposite identification (the caliph’s palace to the south and the heir’s palace to the north) had been proposed by Lézine, iv. Mahdiya. Quelques precisions 82–86. Halm, The empire of the mahdī 218. Safran agrees with this observation, The second Umayyad caliphate 55. However, it is not known with any certainty that both buildings faced each other in the Aghlabid palace, as the sources do not allude to this special arrangement, see Ibn al-Haytham, The advent of the Fatimids 18.

296

vallejo-triano

If this were indeed the model, it is because it was well suited to their interests and to the importance of the role assigned to the heir.95

5

Conclusions

For nearly 20 years, between 956–957 and 975, Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ became the ceremonial center of the Umayyad Caliphate. Before this, between 940 and the first half of 950, political receptions for foreign dignitaries were most likely celebrated in the terrace of the High Garden, but this must have alternated with others in the alcazar of Cordoba, which during those years still shared the seat of the political representation of the Umayyad state. The first great reception of which we have detailed information, and in which the sources and archaeology coincide precisely, is subsequent to the completion of the buildings of the High Garden. Recent research on the ceremonial has proposed that the protocol underwent a gradual process of improvement and refinement from the time the caliphate was proclaimed until the caliphate of al-Ḥakam ii, when these ceremonies reached their maximum splendor. However, it was in the final years of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii when the caliphate ceremonial was profoundly modified with the construction of the two halls of the High Garden. Only from this moment we can speak of the “institutionalization” of the Umayyad ceremonial96 in the sense of the systematization and consolidation of a structure and a set of clearly orchestrated norms and ritual practices involving the entire political space, from the territory to the majlis: the inclusion of the two cities on the ceremonial route, the extension of the military parade that reached about 10km, the participation of the entire body politic and society of the moment in the ceremonies—not only the high-ranking civil and religious officials—and the construction of a new architectural stage for the representation, which was characterized by a double and simultaneous public reception, one of the caliph and the other of the heir apparent. Of this scenario, we must highlight the introduction, for the first time in alAndalus, of a specific typology of buildings for the receptions: the majālis, with a basilical ground plan paved in marble and now decorated with an ornamental program in stone, and a cosmological symbology, which completely covered 95

96

There is no archaeological record that this arrangement of two opposite palaces was subsequently adopted at Ṣabra; we do know that this was done in Cairo (eastern and western palaces), but it does not seem that they were part of the same construction project. I use the term employed by El Cheikh, The institutionalisation.

the ceremonial ensemble of the umayyad caliphate

297

the walls. A program of this nature was absent in the previous reception halls, as we know that their walls and floors had to be adorned expressly for the occasion with fabrics, curtains, and carpets, as the sources indicate.97 The uniqueness of the center of Umayyad political representation was due, on the one hand, to its association with an enormous, hitherto unknown, quadripartite garden in al-Andalus and Western Islam and, on the other, to the existence of a specific reception hall for the crown prince. This hall built by al-Nāṣir required that Prince al-Ḥakam receive both similar treatment to that of the caliph and explicit recognition as the future imām in all official ceremonies. The building also served other important needs closely related to the caliphal protocol, such as the celebration of the banquets with which the ceremonies culminated—a fundamental aspect in the festive ensemble such acts entailed—and, occasionally, as a place for the ḥājib to meet with the ambassadors and negotiate agreements adopted by the sovereign during the years in which the caliphate had no heir. The possible allegorical interpretation of the halls and the terrace ensemble as an expression of the Umayyad Caliphate’s legitimacy and the dynasty’s utopian ambitions of territorial domination in competition with the Fatimids allows us to confirm a new and fundamental rivalry with this caliphate. Of these halls, it is the construction of al-majlis al-gharbī that distinguishes the center of Umayyad political representation from those known in other courts and what most closely associates it with that caliphate. The hall can only be understood as the architectural culmination of a process aimed at expounding the continuity of the dynasty and the stability of the caliphal institution. In this sense, a true parallel can be drawn with the importance awarded the crown prince in the process to found and consolidate the two caliphates, albeit perhaps for different reasons.98 Ensuring the continuity of the dynasty by involving the heir in all affairs of the state seems to have been a central theme in the two newly created caliphates, as it was fundamental to the institution’s stability and survival. Al-Nāṣir must have known that the rival dynasty was aware of the close link 97

98

See note 20. A similar situation has been documented in the Byzantine receptions, of which there are descriptions of the furniture, fabrics and accessories used, which were brought from other buildings (Angelidi, Designing receptions 478–485), as well as in some Abbasid receptions (Milwright, Fixtures 107). There are well-known doubts regarding ʿUbayd Allāh’s genealogy and how the caliph was able to understand that the true Mahdī of the prophetic tradition was his “son,” hence his name, al-Qāʾim. According to Canard (Fāṭimids 850–851), this would explain the privileged position and prerogatives granted to his heir from the very moment he arrived at Raqqāda.

298

vallejo-triano

between the crown prince and his father.99 More than ever, the fate of the heirs of both caliphates was linked to the fate of the founding caliphs and, from the very moment the caliphate was proclaimed, they aided in defining and developing the dynastic objectives. In the case of the Fatimid heir, on assuming command in the wars of conquest and the military expansion of the state, and leading the khuṭba and religious exhortations; in the case of the Umayyad heir, supervising important sectors of the state administration, such as building and tax policies, and participating in establishing the caliphate’s instruments of political propaganda, from poetry to material culture. Following al-Ḥakam ii’s move to the alcazar of Cordoba in 975, a year before his death, the ceremonial activity and political representation also moved. The religious festivities and public appearances of the caliph largely took place at the alcazar of Cordoba, where the building activity had never ceased and of which we know that in 353/964–965 al-Ḥakam was building new majālis, as documented in the epigraphic sources.100 This move, however, was brief. The foundation of Madīnat al-Zāhiraʾ by the ḥājib Ibn Abī ʿĀmir al-Manṣūr, begun in 368/978–979 according to the sources, ushered in a new political period until the fitna, which marked the beginning of the disintegration of the Umayyad Caliphate. The new palace was also the new ceremonial stage for the representation of the political power of the ḥājib and his sons.101

Bibliography Primary Sources Ibn al-Haytham, [Kitāb al-Munāẓarāt] The advent of the Fatimids: A contemporary Shiʿi witness, eds. and trans. W. Madelung and P.E. Walker, London 2000. Ibn Ḥayyān, Al-Muqtabas v, eds. P. Chalmeta, F. Corriente, and M. Ṣubḥ. Madrid 1979. Ibn Ḥayyān, Crónica del califa ʿAbdarraḥmān iii an-Nāṣir entre los años 912 y 942 (alMuqtabis v), trans., notes, and indexes, Mª.J. Viguera and F. Corriente, Zaragoza 1981. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabis fī ajbār balad al-Andalus, ed. ʿA. al-R. ʿA. al-Ḥaŷŷī, Beirut 1983. Ibn Ḥayyān, Anales Palatinos del califa de Córdoba al-Ḥakam ii, por ʿĪsā ibn Aḥmad alRāzī (360–364 H. = 971–975 J.C.), trans. E. García Gómez, Madrid 1967.

99

100 101

We know that both caliphates were well aware of their rival’s family situation and in their confrontations brandished such arguments as the alleged homosexuality of the Umayyad heir, as al-Muʿizz claimed, see Yalaoui, Controverse 16, 28. Ocaña Jiménez, Capiteles epigrafiados, especially 163–165. As documented by Ibn ʿIdāri in al-Bayān ii, see Maíllo Salgado, La caída del Califato 16–17, 23, 37.

the ceremonial ensemble of the umayyad caliphate

299

al-Maqqarī, Azhār al-riyāḍ fī ajbār ʿIyāḍ, vol. 2, Cairo 1942. al-Maqqarī, Nafḥ al-ṭīb, vol. 1, ed. I. ʿAbbas, Beirut 1988. al-Maqqarī, The history of the Mohammedan dynasties in Spain, extracted from the Nafhu-t-tib, translated by Pascual de Gayangos, vol. 2, London 1840–1843.

Secondary Literature Acién Almansa, M., Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ en el urbanismo musulmán, in Cuadernos de Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ 1 (1987), 11–26. Acién Almansa, M., Materiales e hipótesis para una interpretación del Salón de ʿAbd al-Raḥmān al-Nāṣir, in A. Vallejo (coord.), Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ. El Salón de ʿAbd alRaḥmān iii, Córdoba 1995, 179–195. Acién Almansa, M., Sobre el papel de la ideología en la caracterización de las formaciones sociales. La formación social islámica, in Hispania. Revista Española de Historia 58 (1998), 915–968. Acién Almansa, M., and A. Vallejo Triano, Urbanismo y Estado islámico: de Corduba a Qurṭuba-Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, in P. Cressier, M. García, and M. Meouak (eds.), Genèse de la ville islamique en al-Andalus et au Maghreb occidental, Madrid 1998, 107– 136. Almagro, A., The dwellings of Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ: A methodological approach, in G.D. Anderson and M. Rosser-Owen (eds.), Revisiting al-Andalus. Perspectives on the material culture of Islamic Iberia and beyond, Leiden and Boston 2007, 27–52. Anderson, G.D., The Islamic villa in early medieval Iberia. Architecture and court culture in Umayyad Córdoba, Surrey 2013. Angelidi, C., Designing receptions in the palace (De cerimoniis 2.15), in A. Beihammer, S. Constantinou, and M. Parani (eds.), Court ceremonies and rituals of power in Byzantium and the medieval Mediterranean. Comparative perspectives. Leiden and Boston 2013, 465–485. Arnold, F., Islamic palace architecture in the western Mediterranean. A history, New York 2017. Arnold, F., The evolution of Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ as capital city of the Umayyad caliphate, in Madrider Mitteilungen 60 (2019), 308–337. Arnold, F., A. Canto García, and A. Vallejo Triano, Munyat ar-Rummaniya. Ein islamischer Landsitz bei Córdoba (Madrider Beiträge 34), Wiesbaden 2015. Ballestín Navarro, X., Jilʿa y monedas: el poder de los Banū Marwān en el Magrib alaqṣà, in Al-Qanṭara 27 (2006), 391–415. Barceló, M., El Califa patente: el ceremonial omeya de Córdoba o la escenificación del poder, in A. Vallejo (coord.), Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ. El Salón de ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii, Córdoba 1995, 155–175. [Previously published in Estructuras y formas de poder en la Historia, Salamanca 1991, 51–71; English translation: The manifest caliph: Umayyad ceremony in Córdoba, or the staging of power, in M. Marín (ed.), The formation of

300

vallejo-triano

al-Andalus. Part 1: History and society (The formation of the classical Islamic world 46), Aldershot 1998, 425–455. Bloom, J.M., Arts of the city victorious. Islamic art and architecture in Fatimid North Africa and Egypt, New Haven and London 2007. Canard, M., L’imperialisme des Fatimides, in Annales de l’Institut d’Etudes Orientales 6 (1942–1947), 156–193. Canard, M., Fāṭimids, ei2, ii, 850–862. Canto García, A., El dinar en al-Andalus en el s. x, in Cuadernos de Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ 5 (2004), 327–338. Cardoso, E., The scenography of power in al-Andalus and the Abbasid and Byzantine ceremonials: Christian ambassadorial receptions in the court of Cordoba in a comparative perspective, in Medieval encounters (2018), 1–45. Cressier, P., and A. Vallejo Triano, Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ et Ṣabra al-Manṣūriyya: Deux versions d’un même scenario, in Journal of Islamic archaeology 2 (2015), 139–169. El Cheikh, N.M., The “court” of al-Muqtadir: Its space and its occupants, in J. Nawas (ed.), Abbasid studies ii: Occasional paper of the school of Abbasid studies, Leuven 28 June–1 July 2004 (Orientalia Lovaniensia Analecta 177), Leuven 2010, 319–336. El Cheikh, N.M., To be a prince in the fourth/tenth-century Abbasid court, in J. Duindam, T. Artan, and M. Kunt (eds.), Royal courts in dynastic states and empires. A global perspective. Leiden and Boston 2011, 199–216. El Cheikh, N.M., The institutionalisation of Abbasid ceremonial, in J. Hudson and A. Rodriguez (eds.), Diverging paths? The shapes of power and institutions in medieval Christendom and Islam, Leiden and Boston 2014, 351–370. Elices Ocón, J., El pasado preislámico en al-Andalus: fuentes árabes, recepción de la antigüedad y legitimación en época omeya (ss. viii–x), PhD diss., Universidad Autónoma de Madrid, 2017. Fierro, M., Bāṭinism in al-Andalus. Maslama b. Qāsim al-Qurṭubī (d. 353/964), author of the Rutbat al-ḥakīm and the Ghāyat al-ḥakīm (Picatrix), in si 84 (1996), 87–112. Fierro, M., Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, el Paraíso y los fatimíes, in Al-Qanṭara 25 (2004), 299– 327. [Revised English version in S. Günther and T. Lawson (eds.), Roads to paradise. Eschatology and concepts of the hereafter in Islam, vol. 2, Leiden 2017, 977–1009. Fierro, M., Pompa y ceremonia en los califatos del occidente islámico (s. ii/viii–ix/xv), in Cuadernos del Centro de Estudios Medievales y Renacentistas 17 (2009), 125–152. Fierro, M., Plants, Mary the Copt, Abraham, donkeys and knowledge: Again on Bāṭinism during the Umayyad caliphate in al-Andalus, in H. Biesterfeldt and V. Klemm (eds.), Differenz und Dynamik im Islam. Fetschrift für Heinz Halm zum 70. Geburstag. Difference and dynamism in Islam. Fetschrift for Heinz Halm on his 70th birthday, Würzburg 2012, 125–144. García Sanjuán, A., Legalidad islámica y legitimidad política en el califato de Córdoba: la proclamación de Hišām ii (360–366/971–976), in Al-Qanṭara 29 (2008), 45–77.

the ceremonial ensemble of the umayyad caliphate

301

Gayraud, R-P., Le Qarāfa al-Kubrā, dernière demeure des Fatimides, in M. Barrucand (ed.), L’Egypte fatimide, son art et son histoire, Paris 1999, 443–464. Guichard, P., Omeyyades et Fatimides au Maghreb. Problématique d’un conflit politicoidéologique (vers 929-vers 980), in M. Barrucand (ed.), L’Egypte fatimide, son art et son histoire, Paris 1999, 55–67. Halm, H., The empire of the mahdī. The rise of the Fatimids, trans. M. Booner, Leiden, New York, and Köln 1996. Hernández Giménez, F., Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ. Arquitectura y decoración, Granada 1985. Labarta, A., Parada militar en la Córdoba omeya y restos arqueológicos, in Mainake 36 (2016), Homenaje a Manuel Acién Almansa, 263–278. Labarta, A., and C. Barceló, Las fuentes árabes sobre al-Zahrāʾ: estado de la cuestión, in Cuadernos de Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ 1 (1987), 93–106. Leisten, T., Dynastic tomb or private mausolea: Observations on the concept of funerary structures of the Fatimid and Abbasid caliphs, in M. Barrucand (ed.), L’Egypte fatimide, son art et son histoire, Paris 1999, 465–479. Lévi-Provençal, E., España Musulmana hasta la caída del califato de Córdoba (711–1031 de J.C.), vol. 4 of Historia de España, dir. por R. Menéndez Pidal, Madrid 41976. Lézine, A., iv. Mahdiya. Quelques précisions sur la “ville” des premiers fatimides, in Notes d’Archéologie Ifriqiyenne, special issue of Revue des Études Islamiques 35 (1967), 82–101. Louhichi, A., La mosaïque de Mahdia. Contexte et interprétation, in Africa 20 (2004), 143–166. Maíllo Salgado, F., La caída del Califato de Córdoba (al-Bayān al-Mugrib), Salamanca 1993. Manzano Moreno, E., Coinage and the tributary mode of production, in R. Balzaretti, J. Barrow, and P. Skinner (eds.), Italy and early medieval Europe. Papers for Chris Wickham, Oxford 2018, 402–415. Manzano Moreno, E., La corte del califa. Cuatro años en la Córdoba de los omeyas, Barcelona 2019. Marín, M., Šūra et ahl al-šūra dans al-Andalus, in si 62 (1985), 25–51. Martínez Díez, G., El Condado de Castilla (711–1038). La historia frente a la leyenda, Valladolid 2005. Martínez Núñez, Mª.A., La epigrafía del Salón de ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii, in A. Vallejo (coord.), Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ. El Salón de ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii, Córdoba 1995, 109– 152. Martínez Núñez, Mª.A., Epígrafes a nombre de al-Ḥakam en Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, in Cuadernos de Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ 4 (1999), 83–103. Martínez Núñez, Mª.A., Recientes hallazgos epigráficos en Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ y nueva onomástica relacionada con la dār al-ṣinaʿa califal (Anejos de Arqueología y Territorio Medieval 1), Jaén 2015.

302

vallejo-triano

Martínez Núñez, Mª.A., and M. Acién Almansa, La epigrafía de Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, in Cuadernos de Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ 5 (2004), 107–158. Mazzoli-Guintard, C., Remarques sur le fonctionnement d’une capitale à double polarité: Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ-Cordoue, in Al-Qanṭara 18 (1997), 43–64. Meouak, M., Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ en las fuentes árabes del occidente islámico, in Cuadernos de Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ 5 (2004), 53–80. Milwright, M., Fixtures and fittings. The role of decoration in Abbasid palace design, in C.F. Robinson (ed.), A medieval Islamic city reconsidered. An interdisciplinary approach to Samarra, Oxford 2001, 79–109. Necipoğlu, G., An outline of shifting paradigms in the palatial architecture of the premodern Islamic world, in Ars Orientalis 23 (1993), 3–24. Northedge, A., The historical topography of Samarra. Samarra Studies i, London 2005. Ocaña Jiménez, M., Capiteles epigrafiados del Alcázar de Córdoba, in Al-Andalus 3 (1935), 155–167. Ocaña Jiménez, M., Inscripciones árabes descubiertas en Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ en 1944, an appendix to Castejón, R., Nuevas excavaciones en Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ: el Salón de ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii, in Al-Andalus 10 (1945), 154–159. Paz y Meliá, A., Fuentes para la historia de Córdoba en la Edad Media. La Embajada del Emperador de Alemania Otón i al Califa de Córdoba Abderrahmán iii, in Boletín de la Real Academia de Ciencias, Bellas Letras y Nobles Artes de Córdoba 33 (1931), 123–150, 255–282. [Reprint of the work published in 1872 in Revista de Archivos, Bibliotecas y Museos (año ii), 76–80; 90–94; 103–110; 120–125; 137–141. Puerta Vílchez, J.M., Ensoñación y construcción del lugar en Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, in F. Roldán (coord.), Paisaje y naturaleza en al-Andalus, Granada 2004, 313–338. Qutbuddin, T., Fatimid aspirations of conquest and doctrinal underpinnings in the poetry of al-Qāʾim bi-Amr Allāh, Ibn Hāniʾ al-Andalusī, Amīr Tamīm b. al-Muʿizz, and al-Muʾayyad al-Shīrāzī, in R. Baalbaki, S.S. Agha, and T. Khalidi (eds.), Poetry and history: The value of poetry in reconstructing Arab history, Beirut 2011, 195–246. Ritter, H., and M. Plessner, ‘Picatrix’. Das Ziel des Weisen von Pseudo-Majriti, London 1962. [Spanish translation, Abul-Casim Maslama ben Ahmad, Picatrix. El fin del sabio y el mejor de los dos medios para avanzar, ed. M. Villegas, Madrid 1982; Latin edition, Pingree, D., Picatrix, the Latin version of the “Ghāyat al-ḥakīm,” London 1986. Rosser-Owen, M., Poems in stone: The iconography of ʿĀmirid poetry, and its “petrification” on ʿĀmirid marbles, in G.D. Anderson and M. Rosser-Owen (eds.), Revisiting al-Andalus. Perspectives on the material culture of Islamic Iberia and beyond, Leiden and Boston 2007, 83–98. Ruggles, D.F., Gardens, landscape, and vision in the palaces of Islamic Spain, University Park 2000. Safran, J.M., The second Umayyad caliphate. The articulation of caliphal legitimacy in al-Andalus, Cambridge, MA and London 2000.

the ceremonial ensemble of the umayyad caliphate

303

Signes Codoñer, J., Bizancio y al-Andalus en los siglos ix y x, in I. Pérez and P. Bádenas (eds), Bizancio y la Península Ibérica. De la Antigüedad Tardía a la Edad Moderna, Madrid 2004, 177–245. Stetkevych, S.P., The qaṣīdah and the poetics of ceremony: Three ʿĪd panegyris to the Cordoban caliphate, in R. Brann (ed.), Languages of power in Islamic Spain, Bethesda, Maryland 1997, 1–48. Torres Balbás, L., Bāb al-Sudda y las zudas de la España oriental, in Al-Andalus 17 (1952), 165–175. Valdés, Fernández, La embajada de Otón i a ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii y la influencia cultural de Constantinopla sobre Córdoba, in Madrider Mitteilungen 50 (2009), 538–555. Vallejo Triano, A., El proyecto urbanístico del estado califal: Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, in R. López (coord.), La arquitectura del Islam occidental, Barcelona 1995, 69–81. Vallejo Triano, A., Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ: Transformation of a caliphal city, in G.D. Anderson and M. Rosser-Owen (eds.), Revisiting al-Andalus. Perspectives on the material culture of Islamic Iberia and beyond. Leiden and Boston 2007, 3–26. Vallejo Triano, A., La ciudad califal de Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ. Arqueología de su excavación, Córdoba 2010. Vallejo Triano, A., El heredero designado y el califa. El Occidente y el Oriente en Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, in Mainake 36 (2016), Homenaje a M. Acién Almansa, 433–464. Walker, P.E., Succession to rule in the Shiite caliphate, in Journal of the American research center in Egypt 32 (1995), 239–264. Walker, P.E. (ed. and trans.), Orations of the Fatimid caliphs: Festival sermons of Ismaili imams. An edition of the Arabic texts and English translation of Fatimid khuṭbas, London 2009. Yalaoui, M., Controverse entre le fatimide al-Muʿizz et l’omeyyade al-Nasir, d’apres le “kitab al-majalis w-al-musayarat” du cadi Nuʿman (1), in Les Cahiers de Tunisie 24 (1978), 7–33.

chapter 13

When the Stones Speak: Believing, Living, and Dying in Qurṭuba. The Arabic Epigraphy María Antonia Martínez-Núñez

1

Introduction

During the Middle Ages, al-Andalus’s Cordoba was a prominent medina, albeit the city played a changing role throughout its history between 711 until the Christian conquest in 1236.1 It is an indisputable fact that Cordoba gained great renown during the Umayyad period and played a less relevant role than other metropolises in al-Andalus from the 11th century onwards. The historical heritage of al-Andalus is extremely rich and varied and has left us multiple records. Among them, the epigraphic evidence is of particular interest, because the inscriptions, like the coinage, form part of the textual and material record and therefore serve as a direct documentary source. Although some inscriptions may have been reutilized, unlike what occurs with other written sources, the data they provide has not been subject to reelaborations.2 Regarding the epigraphy, several modalities should be mentioned: 1) the script of the state apparatus at the service of those in power, which includes foundational epigraphy and epigraphy of various sumptuary objects, as well as epitaphs of sovereigns, those in their circle, and high-ranking state officials; and 2) epigraphs commissioned by individuals, which may also be foundational but are most widely represented in the funerary epigraphy. This text examines these epigraphic variants, whose levels of information differ from those provided by others, such as objects for personal use, graffiti, and more or less spontaneous writings. The epigraphic sources reflect the ideological orientations of each historical stage. The various formulas with which the dynasties established and legitimized their power throughout the Islamic Middle Ages were projected in the distinct characteristics their official and propagandistic writing acquired. Thus, among the most striking features of the Arabic epigraphs are the changes

1 Guichard, Córdoba. 2 Martínez Núñez, Epigrafía monumental 21–24.

© María Antonia Martín ez-Nú ñ ez, 2023 | doi:10.1163/9789004524156_014

when the stones speak: believing, living, and dying in qurṭuba

305

observed in the design of the graphemes and the particular forms characterizing specific periods. These changes, most often initiated and promoted by those in power for use in the official epigraphs, were then imitated with more or less fidelity or intentionality in the unofficial epigraphy, that is, the epigraphy realized at the initiative and own expense of individuals. Arabic epigraphy, of which there is an enormous variety, is a valid documentary source that provides an account of the diverse activities of the living, their beliefs, customs, and concerns, as well as how they related to death and remembered their deceased. Although Arabic inscriptions mostly refer to the Islamic sphere, this is not always the case, as evidenced by the Arabic epigraphs on objects intended for places of Christian worship or the bilingual Mozarabic epitaphs.3 Given that numerous and very relevant epigraphic manifestations coincide with the city’s most remarkable historical periods, the first scholars of Andalusi epigraphy directed their attention mainly to the epigraphy of Cordoba.4 Although Lévi-Provençal’s publication in 1931 marked a notable improvement over previous studies, the enormous and exceptional work of M. Ocaña Jiménez constituted the most decisive contribution to the field of epigraphy; especially his work on the inscriptions of his birthplace, Cordoba, from the beginning of the 1930s until his death in January 1990. Unfortunately, the repertory of Arabic inscriptions in Cordoba, which the author prepared following a project to catalogue the epigraphy of al-Andalus under the direction of G. Roselló Bordoy, has remained unpublished. Nonetheless, his epigraphic contributions provided precise dates for the buildings and identified the participation of architects and skilled laborers in the construction of the mosque and the palaces (alcázares) of Cordoba and Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, and provided the keys to understanding other aspects, such as the origin and evolution of the plasterwork.5 Later, several researchers continued, using different approaches, the analysis of the epigraphs of the Aljama Mosque of Cordoba,6 the inscriptions of 3 Such as the Gibraleón bell (Huelva) bearing an epigraph in Arabic, Zozaya, Campana; Azuar, De arqueología 126, 132. In Cordoba, a fragment of a marble stela was found at the Cercadillas archaeological site; see Martínez Núñez, Las fuentes 65, fig. 9; similar to another one also from Cordoba, see González Fernández, La epigrafía 745–749, print 1; Barceló, Epigrafía cristiana 122–124, fig. 3. 4 Gayangos, Inscripciones; Amador de los Ríos, Inscripciones; Saavedra, Inscripciones; Berlanga, Catálogo; Lévi-Provençal, Inscriptions 1–35. 5 Vallejo Triano, La trayectoria. 6 Souto Lasala, Glyptographie; Souto Lasala, Siervos, among others, have completed Ocaña Jiménez’s publication, Arquitectos.

306

martínez-núñez

Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ,7 and new epigraphic material discovered in archaeological excavations carried out in the city or scattered in a variety of museums and collections.8 In spite of the inevitable extensions, clarifications, and nuances that have been made to Ocaña’s work, the validity of practically all his proposals have been corroborated and maintained, especially those related to his calligraphic analyses.

2

First Manifestations of Arabic Writing in al-Andalus and Its New Capital

The material record that provides the most accurate account of events related to the conquest and the first stage of al-Andalus is that of minted coins and lead seals. Coins in particular have made it possible to establish specific chronologies. The finding of coins of the first governors—wālīs dependent on the Umayyad Caliphate of Damascus—found during excavations of some enclaves where the initial moments of the conquest have been verified archaeologically, such as Narbonne (France), Tolmo de Minateda (Hellín, Albacete), Cercadillas and Shaqunda (Cordoba), Vega Baja (Toledo), and Marroquíes Bajos (Jaen),9 have allowed us to determine not only the chronology but also the sociocultural context of spaces and individuals. The lead seals are indisputable material evidence of the 711 conquest and of the subsequent phase of the governors.10 These seals come from different areas of Narbonne and the Iberian Peninsula and present diverse forms and different sealing methods. The seals bear legends in Arabic that, in some cases, refer to the armed military conquest and the distribution of the spoils of war among the conquering troops. They contain the Arabic expressions qism al-Andalus / qusima bi-Arbūna / maqsūm ṭayyib (division of al-Andalus / it was divided up in Narbonne / licit division) or the terms ghanīma / maghnūm ṭayyib (spoils of war

7 8 9

10

Martínez Núñez, La epigrafía del Salón; Martínez Núñez, Epígrafes; Martínez Núñez, Recientes; Martínez Núñez and Acién, La epigrafía, among others. The numerous publications on the subject by C. Barceló and A. Labarta are noteworthy. Gilotte and Nef, L’apport; Sénac et al., Nouveaux; Domenech Belda and Gutiérrez Lloret, Viejas; Gutiérrez Lloret, El reconocimiento 192, 195; Fuertes Santos and Hidalgo Prieto, La transformación 170; Canto García, Las monedas 140; García Lerga, Hallazgos 28–38; Serrano Peña and Castillo Armenteros, Las necrópolis 104. Ibrahim, Nuevos; Ibrahim, Additions; Ibrahim, Los precintos; Sénac and Ibrahim, Notes; Sénac and Ibrahim, Los precintos.

when the stones speak: believing, living, and dying in qurṭuba

307

/ division of licit spoils).11 In other cases, they bear the terms ṣulḥ / muṣālaḥa (pact / peace treaty) followed by a toponym and refer to the fact that the population of that particular place had been subjugated by means of a pact with the conquerors.12 Such pacts obliged them to pay the jizya (capitation tax) in exchange for preserving their lives, property, faith, and places of worship. Many of these seals reveal the dhimmī status afforded people in certain enclaves, such as those that contain expressions of the type min ahl Ishbīliyya / min ahl Bāja (of the people of Seville / of the people of Beja).13 Concerning Cordoba, only one of these conquest seals has been preserved, which bears the toponym Qurṭuba after the term qism.14 To date, this is the only seal from al-Andalus that has been found containing the term qism with the name of a city15 and a legend on both faces: bismi Allāh / qism Qurṭuba (In the name of God / division of Cordoba). The seal seems to be related to the initial military actions to occupy Cordoba described in the Arab sources. According to these accounts, the conqueror Mughīth al-Rūmī took possession of the Visigoth governor’s palace as spoils of war, which then came to be known as balāṭ Mughīth. Following these first military feats, the city surrendered under a pact, by which the seat of the Visigothic government, converted into the new qaṣr al-ʿumarāʾ, was handed over to the conqueror.16 After 98/716 the capital was moved from Seville to Cordoba by Governor alḤurr.17 The 14 preserved seals with the names of various dependent governors date some years later:18 1) Those of al-Ḥurr b. ʿAbd al-Raḥmān al-Thaqafī (98– 99/716–719), with six seals whose legends repeat the phrases: amara al-Ḥurr / qism al-Andalus (al-Ḥurr ordered / the division of al-Andalus). 2) Those of al-Samḥ b. Mālik al-Khawlānī (99–102/719–721), with five seals whose legends

11

12 13 14 15 16 17 18

Sénac and Ibrahim, Los precintos 28–29, 97–102, nos. 42–57. The seals inscribed with the expression maghnūm ṭayyib are from Narbonne, Sénac and Ibrahim, Los precintos 105–110, nos. 58–73. Sénac and Ibrahim, Los precintos 81–87. Sénac and Ibrahim, Los precintos 28, 34, 91–93. Ibrahim and Gaspariño, Adiciones 40, no. 2; Sénac and Ibrahim, Notes 649, figs. 5–6; Sénac and Ibrahim, Los precintos, 100, no. 51. The word “al-Andalus” appears in the remaining seals, as Viguera Molins has pointed out, Cuando Córdoba 41–42. Acién Almansa and Vallejo Triano, Urbanismo 110–112; Manzano Moreno, Conquistadores 44–45, 71–72; Guichard, Córdoba 6–8. Viguera Molins, Cuando Córdoba 13–14. Sénac and Ibrahim, Los precintos 71–76, nos. 1–14. For more on each of the governors in relation to tax collection, see Chalmeta, Derecho 153–161.

308

martínez-núñez

repeat the phrase: bismi Allāh ṣulḥ / ʿAbdallāh b. Mālik (In the name of God, peace treaty / of ʿAbdallāh b. Mālik). 3) The seal of ʿAnbasa b. Suḥaym al-Kalbī (103–107/721–725), inscribed with a legend that reads bismi Allāh hādhā mā amara bi-hi al-Amīr ʿAnbasa b. Suḥaym (In the name of God. This is what Emir ʿAnbasa b. Suḥaym ordered). This seal’s legend differs from the previous ones in various forms. In addition to attributing the title al-Amīr to ʿAnbasa, it does not include the terms qism or ṣulḥ but rather a formula, hādhā mā amara bi-hi. Although it does not specify exactly what has been ordered, it must be related to the collection of taxes in this case.19 This formula has been widely documented in Eastern Umayyad epigraphy20 and was used, with variants, in later stages and in various territories, including al-Andalus.21 And, finally, 4) two badly damaged seals that have been attributed to the governors Muḥammad b. ʿAbdallāh alAshjaʿī (111/729–730) and Abū l-Khaṭṭār (124–125/742–743), both of whom are referred to by the title al-Amīr. Only part of the legend of the first (al-Amīr Muḥammad) and of the second (al-wafā li-llāh min-mā amara bi-hi al-Amīr) have been restored (Honesty is due to God. Among what the emir ordered) and display a similar formula to that of ʿAnbasa’s seal. Despite the fact that no place names or mention of al-Andalus appear on these lead seals, it is not unreasonable to assume they were manufactured in the new capital of Cordoba due to the uniformity of the legends and their formal appearance, especially in the series of al-Ḥurr and al-Samḥ. Regarding the numismatic record, the first coinage reveals the Arab conquerors’ strong interest in remaining in the peninsula and exerting fiscal control over the territory from the very beginning. This contrasts with those who hold the opinion that the conquest of 711 was a mere military incursion or expedition for the purpose of obtaining spoils,22 and ratifies the early use of the term al-Andalus. This is attested in the transitional and bilingual dinars with legends in Latin and Arabic.23 The Arabic legend states that it was issued in al-Andalus in 98/716, while the risāla or prophetic mission of Muḥammad is reproduced in the cen19 20 21

22 23

Manzano Moreno, Conquistadores 81. Ritter, Umayyad 65, fig. 7. This same formula can be observed in the Aghlabid lead seal dating 254/868 (Ibrahim, Aghlabid 49) and was also the one used in the Abbasid inscriptions of East and Umayyad epigraphs of al-Andalus, Martínez Núñez, La epigrafía del Salón 140; Martínez Núñez, Epígrafes 87–88, 94, note 45. Manzano Moreno, Conquistadores, 58–62; Manzano Moreno, La conquista 12; Chalmeta, Los primeros. Canto García and Ibrahim, Moneda 23, 97, no. 5; Canto García, Las monedas 137, fig. 2; Ariza Armada, Los dinares 143–146, Figs. 4–5.

when the stones speak: believing, living, and dying in qurṭuba

309

ter of the coin. Together with the oneness of God, this is undoubtedly the most specific element of the Islamic creed. The coinage of al-Andalus was initially minted in three metals: gold (dinars), silver (dirhams), and copper ( fals/fulūs). A good number of copper coins have come down to us, among which those found in Narbonne stand out.24 Chronologically, these coins are very close to the conquest of 711 and the immediately subsequent stage. They usually indicate al-Andalus as the place of issuance and in some cases the year of the Hijra is specified. The Islamic character of these coins is indisputable, as most of them make reference to the shahāda or profession of Muslim faith (tahlīl, oneness of God, and risāla, prophetic mission).25 The transitional coins and fulūs are of irregular manufacture and variable metrology, so they must have been minted in different workshops and areas of al-Andalus. Only those found in the city itself can be attributed to Cordoba, such as the coins found at Cercadilla mentioned above or those of the Shaqunda suburb.26 This initial trimetallic coinage system was followed by a bimetallic model (silver and gold) and then monometallic coins in silver from 127/744. The monetary reform, carried out according to the guidelines of the Umayyad Caliph ʿAbd al-Mālik in 77/696, can be identified in dinars dating from 102/720, already under the governor al-Samḥ, as well as in dirhams from 104/722. These reformed coins, whose manufacture is very uniform in the case of the dinars and dirhams, suggest that the minting process was probably centralized in Cordoba,27 which had already become the capital of al-Andalus under Governor al-Ḥurr.

3

Arabic Epigraphy of Córdoba during the Umayyad Emirate

The period of Umayyad rule in the peninsula was a direct consequence of the founding of the Abbasid Caliphate in the East in 132/750. This period began with the arrival of the Umayyad ʿAbd al-Raḥmān b. Muʿawiya al-Dākhil (The 24 25

26 27

Sénac et al., Nouveaux 64–68. Frochoso Sánchez, Los feluses; Ibrahim, Los precintos 7–9; Manzano Moreno, Conquistadores 59–69; Viguera Molins, Cuando Córdoba 40–43; Canto García, Las monedas 139–140. Some of these fulūs were minted at the western end of the Maghreb (they sometimes contain the phrase bi-Tanja or “in Tangier”) at a date prior to or contemporary with the conquest of 711, Barceló, Sobre algunos 35–37; Barceló, Un fals de yihad; or those found at al-Qaṣr al-Ṣaghīr; El Khayari and Akerraz, Al-Qaṣr al-Awwal 23–27, where another series dating after 711 ce, between 94 and 97 ah, has also been documented. Casal García, Martín Escudero, and Canto García, El arrabal 851–862. Canto García and Ibrahim, Moneda 25; Canto García, Las monedas 137–138.

310

martínez-núñez

Immigrant) in al-Andalus in 138/755 and his rise to power the year after he defeated the last governor, Yūsuf al-Fihrī,28 and concluded in the early 11th century following the great fitna of 1009–1013 and the subsequent extinction of the Umayyad Caliphate. Under ʿAbd al-Raḥmān al-Dākhil (138–172/756–788), Cordoba was transformed into the political and religious capital of the state, since he was responsible for initiating the construction of the Aljama Mosque and equipped the city with administrative institutions and urban infrastructures, thus marking the beginning of the Islamization process.29 However, no monumental inscriptions have reached us from the time of this emir. In addition to the minted coins, only one lead seal has been preserved. This seal, the latest one known to date, was found in Villa del Río (Cordoba) and belongs to the Tonegawa Collection.30 An imprint of chain mail can be observed on the reverse and five lines in Kufic script on the obverse (fig. 13.1), the content of which differs from previous seals and has been interpreted in two manners. On the one hand, it has been read as lil-Amīr ʿAbd al-Raḥmān b. Muʿawiya jaysh fī sabīl Allāh lā yughlab wa-lā yuhabb (Emir ʿAbd al-Raḥmān b. Muʿawiya has an army in the cause of God that does not allow itself to be defeated or intimidated) and has been interpreted as a text of military dynastic propaganda associated with the jihād at the borders.31 On the other hand, A. Labarta has recently corrected the interpretation of the inscription and disagreed with the function attributed to it.32 According to Labarta’s interpretation, the seal reads: lil-Amīr ʿAbd al-Raḥmān b. Muʿawiya ḥubus fī sabīl Allāh lā yubāʿ wa-lā yuhab (Property of Emir ʿAbd al-Raḥmān b. Muʿawiya. Habous in the path of God. Do not sell or give away) and considers that the text refers to a habous on chain mail that was the property of the emir and stamped on the seal itself. In his opinion, this function coincides with the term ḥubus, which refers to the inalienability of this type of property, and the expression fī sabīl Allāh, which is also inscribed on one of the caliphal copper disks associated with chain mail and other gear used in military parades.33 Be that as it may, the truth is that this is not a tax-collection seal but a piece of enormous historical value due to its early chronology and because it provides 28 29 30 31 32 33

On the beginnings of the Umayyad dynasty in al-Andalus, see Manzano Moreno, Conquistadores 189–203; Acién Almansa and Manzano Moreno, Organización social. Acién Almansa and Vallejo Triano, Urbanismo 113–114. Sénac and Ibrahim, Los precintos 77, no. 15. Ibrahim, Un precinto; Ibrahim, Nuevos 159, fig. 18, in which the previous reading is corrected; Ibrahim, Los precintos 20–21; Sénac and Ibrahim, Notes 647, 656, note 35. Labarta, Parada 275–276, figs. 6–7. Analyzed by the author in the same article, Labarta, Parada 268–274, nos. 1–4.

when the stones speak: believing, living, and dying in qurṭuba

figure 13.1

311

Lead seal in the name of Emir ʿAbd al-Raḥmān b. Muʿawiya the tonegawa collection: http://www.andalustonegawa.50g​ .com/sellos/s‑daj.html

exceptional material testimony of al-Andalus chain mail. It can only be compared with the fragment of chain mail made up of hundreds of assembled rings stored in the warehouses of the Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ Museum that was found during the excavation carried out at the site itself, although the specific location of the find is unknown.34 The uninterrupted use of Arabic script is confirmed by the coinage of the successive emirs, but it was not until the 3rd/9th century, during the period of Emir ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii (206–238/822–852), that the first examples of foundational and funerary epigraphy began to appear. This emir implemented the first centralizing measures of the state and reformed the administration following the Abbasid model, which strengthened Cordoba’s position as the capital and led to significant demographic growth and urban development in the city. ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii ordered the first extension of the Aljama Mosque to be built between 218–234/833–848, the remodeling of the qaṣr al-ʿumarāʾ and the construction of new palaces, as well as the creation or consolidation of basic institutions, such as the dār al-ṭirāz (the workshop where fabrics were produced) and the dār al-sikka (where coins were minted).35 All of this coincided with the notable advance of the Arabization and Islamization process in the 9th century, of which the epigraphic record is an unquestionable indicator.36 34 35 36

I thank Dr. A. Vallejo Triano for the information on this fragment of caliphal chronology. Acién Almansa and Vallejo Triano, Urbanismo 117–119, 123; Acién Almansa and Manzano Moreno, Organización social 334, 345; Guichard, Córdoba 13–15. Martínez Núñez, Epigrafía árabe 42–44; Martínez Núñez, Epigrafía funeraria 183.

312

martínez-núñez

The most archaic inscriptions that have reached us so far are those that commemorate the foundations of this sovereign in Seville, Merida, and Cordoba. The oldest with an express date (214/829–830) is the inscription of the mosque of Ibn ʿAdabbas in Seville,37 followed in age by the founding inscriptions of the alcazaba of Merida, one of which is dated 220/835.38 A marble capital with an undated inscription from Cordoba has reached us, which is housed at the National Archaeological Museum of Madrid.39 The brief epigraph on the capital, in four lines and partially lost, reads: bismi Allāh Baraka / lil-A[mīr ʿAbd] al-Ra/ḥmān [b.] al-Ḥa[kam] / aʿazza-hu Allāh (In the name of God. Blessing / for Emir ʿAbd al-Raḥmān b. al-Ḥakam / May God glorify him). The capital was found in Cordoba in what is known as the Gran Capitán House and was attributed to the first extension of the Aljama Mosque of Cordoba, as were other anepigraphic capitals from the emiral period preserved in the mosque. As the formulas employed in the inscription appear to suggest, it may have belonged to a hall or a room in the alcazar or another palatine construction in Cordoba built by this sovereign. The foundational epigraphy of the Cordoban emirate includes an emblematic inscription dating from the time of Muḥammad i (238–273/852–886), son and successor of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii. The inscription runs across the archivolt and lintel of the old gate of the viziers in the Mosque of Cordoba, known as the “Façade of San Esteban” or “of San Sebastián” (fig. 13.2). This is the first case in which the epigraphy was integrated into the architectural wall decoration. As the epigraph specifies, it was a work of “renovation” and “consolidation” carried out by order of Amīr Muḥammad b. ʿAbd al-Raḥmān and completed in 241/855–856 and in which the fatā Masrūr intervened.40 All these epigraphs are written in the so-called “archaic” or “early” Kufic script.41 This type of Kufic, usually carved in relief, is characterized by a series of features: the absence of ornamental forms, the rigidity of the baseline, the absence of curved ligatures to bridge the various graphemes, the absence of the elongated stroke in the final grapheme nūn, which is sometimes identified

37 38 39

40 41

Ocaña Jiménez, El cúfico, 22–23, no. 1. The other inscription found in Merida dates from 234–238/848–852; Barceló, Las inscripciones 63–66, fig. 1a and 1b.; Martínez Núñez, Epigrafía árabe 72–78, nos. 15 and 16. Revilla Vielva, Patio 58–59, no. 136, print 13; Gómez Moreno, Capiteles árabes 422–423, print 2, figs. 6–7, corrects the previous reading; Gómez Moreno, El arte árabe 49, fig. 58; Dodds, Al-Andalus 241, no. 34. Lévi-Provençal, Inscriptions 1–2, no. 1, pl. 1 a; Ocaña, Inscripciones árabes 12, no. 1, print 1, quien corrige errores de lecturas anteriores. Ocaña Jiménez, El cúfico 22–26; Martínez Núñez, Escritura 130–132.

when the stones speak: believing, living, and dying in qurṭuba

figure 13.2

313

Façade of San Esteban. Aljama Mosque of Cordoba. Detail of the inscription in the name of Emir Muḥammad i (241/855–886)

with the final rāʾ/zay, and the differentiation in the height of the initial and medial lām and of the initial and medial bāʾ/tāʾ/thāʾ/nūn/yāʾ. These features are similar to those of Eastern Umayyad inscriptions, although they are usually engraved with incised carve.42 Regarding the formulas,43 the scarce fixity of their elements, such as the introductory formulas, the invocations in favor of the emir and the inclusion or not of fa-tamma before the date, in contrast to what would occur later during the caliphate, is striking. The absence of fixed formulas is also characteristic of the more archaic Eastern Umayyad inscriptions, in which the “freedom to use the formulas of which they are composed” has been highlighted.44 Consequently, and despite the well-known reforms undertaken by ʿAbd alRaḥmān ii in a variety of spheres in imitation of the caliphs of Baghdad, the epigraphy displays some general features that reveal the links these sovereigns wished to establish with their ancestors, the Umayyad caliphs of Syria, as a means to legitimize the independent emirate. Thus, they maintained the archaic Kufic, when in other territories different script modalities were already in use, and the forms were inserted in the Umayyad tradition as opposed to the Abbasid Caliphate models, which have been documented from an early period of dār al-ṭirāz productions.45 42 43 44 45

Ory, Kitābāt 213–214; Ory, L’épigraphie. Martínez Núñez, Sentido 411–412. Sourdel-Thomine, Inscriptions; Ory, Les graffiti 144; Ory, Aspects 30, 39. Blair, Inscriptions 98.

314

martínez-núñez

As far as funerary epigraphy is concerned, the use of epitaphs in Arabic is a somewhat late phenomenon, as they also began to appear in the 9th century during the time of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii and became more widespread in later stages despite the austerity recommended by the fuqahāʾ.46 As the data provided by various archaeological excavations show, the oldest burials lacked stelae and epitaphs. The only indicator of their Muslim affiliation is the disposition of the corpses as prescribed by Islamic ritual.47 The largest number of emiral funerary stelae have been documented in Cordoba. The oldest one was discovered in the city in the 1960s. This stela contains the epitaph of a man by the name of Marwān b. ʿĪsā, a seller of al-jubbas (al-jabbāb) or cereal grains (al-ḥabbāb), who was murdered (maqtūl) in 233– 236/848–851,48 as his epitaph indicates.49 The rest of the emiral funerary stelae of Cordoba are of a later date, from the period of Muḥammad i ʿAbdallāh (275–300/888–912/13) and ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii as emir (300–316/913–928) and come from the Maqbarat al-rabaḍ.50 Most of them are preserved in the Archaeological and Ethnographic Museum of Córdoba, a few are housed in another museum in Cordoba, in the Museum of Malaga, or in the National Archaeological Museum, and some of them remain unpublished. These stelae include the epitaphs of various female figures, the jawārī of the Umayyad emirs. These were usually former slave women who were freed due to their status as umm walad (mother of a male child of the sovereign) or upon the death of their owner. This is the epigraphy M. Ocaña refers to as “semiofficial” in the mausoleums of the Banū Marwān cited by Ibn Ḥazm in the Ṭawq al-ḥamāma.51 Several notable epitaphs have been documented: 1) the epitaph of Ghaḍīra (241/855)—a freed slave of the deceased Emir al-Ḥakam i—that was found in 1848 in the Sagrada Familia neighborhood at the Campo de la Verdad cemetery and is preserved in the Fine Arts Museum of Córdoba.52 2) The epitaph of ʿUqār (268/881), jāriya of Emir Muḥammad i, which is the first example of the use 46 47 48 49 50 51 52

Rāgib, Structure; Fierro, El espacio; Martínez Núñez, La estela 419–421. Martínez Núñez, Epigrafía funeraria 181–184. Only the last grapheme of the year has been preserved, so it could be either thalāth (three) or sitt (six). Ocaña Jiménez, El cúfico 23–24, no. 3, print 3. Torres Balbás, Cementerios 169. Ocaña Jiménez, El cúfico 24–25, 41; Martínez Núñez, Mujeres 315–316. Lévi-Provençal, Inscriptions, no. 2, pl. 1 b; Ocaña, El cúfico, 24–25, no. 4. print 4, that corrects the dating of 244 given by Lévi Provençal;; Gaspariño, Frochoso, Las inscripciones 51–52.

when the stones speak: believing, living, and dying in qurṭuba

315

of decorative floral motifs in the terminations of the graphemes.53 3) A fragment of the epitaph of a jāriya of Emir Muḥammad whose ism was restored by M. Ocaña Jiménez as Ka[rīma].54 The epitaph does not bear a date, but the chronology must be close to that of the previous epitaph, during the life of the emir. This piece is also preserved in the Fine Arts Museum of Córdoba. 4) The epitaph of an umm walad by the name Badīʿ, mother of Saʿīd, son of Emir Muḥammad (Fig. 13.3).55 The inscription does not bear a date, but is subsequent to the death of the emir (273/886) as indicated by the expression raḥima-hu Allāh after his name. The epitaph is kept at the Museum of Malaga. 5) Two fragments of an epitaph are dedicated to a woman (d. 294/906) related to Emir ʿAbdallāh.56 The upper part is in the Archaeological Museum of Córdoba and the other in the National Archaeological Museum. It is written in florid Kufic. The only epitaph of a male (d. 277/891) dates from the time of Emir ʿAbdallāh and comes from the same cemetery, as well other epitaphs of women. Among these, that of a woman who died in 312/924, already from the period of ʿAbd alRaḥmān iii, which comprise the last of the funeral epigraphs of the Cordoban emirate.57 These pieces display the characteristic features of the Umayyad funerary inscriptions of al-Andalus. The stelae are only of tabular or rectangular shape, with longer vertical sides, and usually bordered by a fillet in relief.58 The script is archaic Kufic with carving in relief, although the first decorative floral motifs began to appear, albeit very timidly, at the time of Muḥammad i; motifs that have also been recorded in the coinage of this emir from 241/855.59 The form, with fixed elements, is that of the epitaphs of urban areas, which includes a complete basmala as an introductory formula, the expression hādhā qabr (this is the sepulchre of), the name of the deceased followed by raḥima-hu Allāh

53 54 55

56 57 58

59

Lévi-Provençal, Inscriptions no. 5; Ocaña Jiménez, Nuevas inscripciones 381–382, no. 1, print 21; Ocaña Jiménez, El cúfico 26, no. 5, print v; Martínez Núñez, Epitafio. Ocaña Jiménez, Nuevas inscripciones 382–383, no. 2, print 22a. Amador de los Ríos, Inscripciones 309–314; Saavedra, Inscripciones 161–162, no. 1; LéviProvençal, Inscriptions no. 3; Acién Almansa and Martínez Núñez, Catálogo no. 2, print 2. Ocaña Jiménez, Nuevas inscripciones 385–386, no. 6, print 23 b; Ocaña Jiménez, El cúfico, 28, no. 8, print 8. Ocaña Jiménez, Nuevas inscripciones no. 4, print 22 c; no. 7, print 24 a and b. In contrast to the attempt to date a fragment of a mqābriyya (tumular stele with a triangular section) to the 9th century, when this typology and its graphic features are from the Almoravid period; Madinat Qurtuba, Madinat Qurṭuba 55, 84. Frochoso Sánchez, Las acuñaciones 377–380.

316

martínez-núñez

figure 13.3

Epitaph of Badīʿ, mother of a son of Emir Muḥammad i museo de málaga

(May God have mercy on him), the date of death preceded by tuwuffiya (he died), and some quotes from the Quran. The Islamic profession of faith is generally included, but the Quranic quotations may vary, and the order of the elements is sometimes altered.60

60

Barceló, Estructura textual 44–49; Martínez Núñez, Epigrafía funeraria 186–187.

when the stones speak: believing, living, and dying in qurṭuba

4

317

Epigraphy of Cordoba during the Umayyad Caliphate

The proclamation of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii as caliph in 316/928 marked a decisive turning point and had widespread repercussions in all spheres of life. The Umayyad Caliphate was established in al-Andalus with all the features that the institution had acquired by the 10th century. The Umayyad Caliphate was a replica of the Abbasid and Fatimid Caliphates and was in competition with them; hence, it required a broad and diversified system of propaganda to demonstrate its dignity and legitimacy. Together with Cordoba, Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, the foundational city of the caliphate and the new seat of the Umayyad administration, provided the most propitious scenario for the representation of power to project the new caliphate’s image.61 During the caliphate, official constructions of all kinds increased in number and many of the existing buildings were rehabilitated, as can be seen from the greater volume of epigraphic remains that have reached us. Together with the foundational and commemorative inscriptions of these constructions, and unlike what had occurred in the prior phase, numerous examples of epigraphs have been preserved on a great variety of objects: ivory and metal jars and caskets, ceramics, woods, and fabrics. In contrast to the previous situation, in all these pieces it is possible to observe the imposition of calligraphic styles according to the contemporaries of other Islamic areas and the development of fixed and specific formulas depending on the type of piece, material, and location. The inscriptions of the Umayyad Caliphate provide a large amount of concrete historical data: names and titles of the sovereign, dates of completion and directors of the commemorated works, and the names of the technicians and craftsmen involved. In spite of this large volume of data and its documentary and historical value, epigraphy from the Umayyad period has a restricted presence, especially in decorative architectural elements, compared to the abundance and importance of other ornamental motifs and taking into account the later use of Arabic script to decorate walls in al-Andalus. In contrast to the other official foundations, graphic elements are more prominent in Umayyad mosques, in whose epigraphs passages of the Koran are also reproduced.

61

For an overview of the key aspects and conclusions of previous publications on the caliphate, see Martínez Núñez, La epigrafía del Salón; Martínez Núñez, Escritura 132–136; Martínez Núñez, Epígrafes; Martínez Núñez, Sentido; Martínez Núñez, Epigrafía monumental 29–42; Martínez Núñez, Recientes; Martínez Núñez and Acién Almansa, La epigrafía.

318

martínez-núñez

figure 13.4

Frieze fragment from the Aljama Mosque of Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ (ca. 333/944–945)

The epigraphy of the caliphate in its two forms, florid Kufic and simple Kufic,62 is primarily characterized by the complete abandonment of the archaic forms of the previous stage, as revealed in the inscription in which ʿAbd alRaḥmān iii is referred to for the first time as Amīr al-muʾminīn, the highest and most distinguished caliphal title. The text commemorates the foundation of a fountain in Ecija (Seville) in 318/930.63 Although this is the oldest caliphal epigraph that has been preserved, the most abundant and representative examples of the caliphate’s epigraphy come from Cordoba and Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ. The oldest epigraph of caliphal Cordoba commemorates the construction of a canal to carry water (qanāt) begun in Shawwal 328/July–August 940 and completed in Ṣafar 329/December 940, under the direction (alā yaday) of the caliph’s mawlā, the wazīr, and ṣāḥib al-madīna ʿAbdallāh b. Badr. Like that of Ecija, the terminations of some graphemes present foliated ornamentations, especially in the final nūn, and curved ligatures to join the medial lām and final hāʾ of the term Allāh.64 The same features can be observed in another fragment of a foundational inscription dated 333/944–945,65 which also makes reference to the same ṣāḥib al-madīna as director of the works. That year, 333ah, appears in the inscriptions of the Aljama Mosque in Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, where floral ornamental forms were extended to the ascenders and final terminations, as well as the curved ligatures to bridge multiple graphemes. The most innovative feature is the identification of the height of bāʾ in the basmala with that of the grapheme lām (fig. 13.4). With regard to the formulas, there are two fixed types or models. One of them, already present in the inscription of Écija includes: 1) a complete basmala as an introductory formula; 2) the order to execute a building work, with 62 63 64 65

Ocaña Jiménez, El cúfico 20–44. Souto Lasala, Las inscripciones 217–240. Amador de los Ríos, Inscripciones 272–273; Lévi-Provençal, Inscriptions 5–7, no. 5. Amador de los Ríos, Inscripciones 273; Lévi-Provençal, Inscriptions 7, no. 6.

when the stones speak: believing, living, and dying in qurṭuba

319

the word amara followed by the name of the sovereign who ordered the construction with his titles and an invocation in his favor; 3) mention of the object of the foundation; 4) the expression fa-tamma bi-ʿawn Allāh (and it was completed with the help of God); 5) mention of the person who oversaw the works after alā yaday; and 6) the date of completion. This formula is repeated with slight variations in both Cordoba and the provinces and is used for various types of constructions, including mosques. As for the titles of the caliphs, the epigraphy reveals the sequence in which they were adopted. In the inscription of Écija only the title Amīr al-muʾminīn appears, while in the later ones of the Aljama Mosque in al-Zahrāʾ and of the Tortosa arsenal, also from 333/944–945,66 the titles are the propitiatory ʿAbdallāh and Amīr al-muʾminīn, both of the Syrian Umayyad tradition.67 However, this caliph held other titles, as evidenced by the epigraphs of the Salón Rico (Rich Hall or ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii Hall) at al-Zahrāʾ, which provide valuable information about the protocolary titulature of the ruler. The epigraphic record has allowed us to determine the different building phases of Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ in a chronological range that spans from 333, with the completion of the mosque, to 362/972–973; the latest date that appears in a capital from the period of al-Ḥakam ii.68 In particular, we have been able to establish the precise chronology of the construction of the majlis for the official receptions of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii in 342/953–954, which is mentioned in the epigraph of a pedestal in the Salón Rico, and 345/956–957, the date recorded in one of the epigraphic friezes of the entrance arcade, as well as the time of construction of the front pavilion in that same year. The epigraphy has also permitted us to identify improvements in the stylized florid Kufic script: the final stroke of nūn in the form of a “swan’s neck,” the use of fleurons to fill in the spaces between the ascenders, the extension of foliated terminals to all the high strokes and the proliferation of curved ligatures (fig. 13.5). At the same time, another less ornamental variant of florid Kufic was used for inscriptions on pedestals, capitals, pilasters, or small decorative arches (fig. 13.6). These calligraphic innovations, which became prominent in the later epigraphy, were inscribed in the great transformation of the alcazar of al-Zahrāʾ when the architectural ensemble of the High Garden was built coinciding with the reforms carried out during those same years in different spheres of the caliphate administration. 66 67 68

Lévi-Provençal, Inscriptions 83–84, no. 86, pl. 19; Ocaña Jiménez, El cúfico 30, no. 11, print 11. Martínez Núñez, Epigrafía monumental 30–31; Blair, Islamic calligraphy 85–94. Martínez Núñez, Epígrafes 87–90, no. 5.

320

martínez-núñez

figure 13.5

Epigraphic frieze of the arcade leading to the Hall of alNāṣir (345/956–957). Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ. Detail of the writing

figure 13.6

Pedestal from the bathroom attached to the Hall of al-Nāṣir. Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ

A further innovation entailed the adoption of a new formulary, whose fixed components are: 1) a reduced form of the basmala followed by baraka min Allāh, a blessing in favor of the caliph; 2) mention of the sovereign with his titles and a petition of permanence aṭāla Allāh baqāʾa-hu or abqaʾa-hu Allāh (May God prolong his permanence / May God make him last);69 3) the “order” to realization of the work rendered in the expression min-mā amara bi-ʿamalihi (of/for what he ordered done), which never specifies the objective of the

69

This formula was the standard expression reserved for the Abbasid caliphs from the time of al-Maʾmūn; Blair, Islamic inscriptions 38. It was first used in al-Andalus in the epigraphs of the al-Zahrāʾ mosque and would become a fixed element in the formulas employed in the inscriptions of the alcazar of al-Zahrāʾ and other later caliphal foundations; Martínez Núñez and Acién Almansa, La epigrafía 112–114, 117, 119.

when the stones speak: believing, living, and dying in qurṭuba

321

foundation; 4) mention of the person who supervised the works after alā yaday preceded by fa-tamma bi-ʿawn Allāh; and 5) the date of completion, in which only the year is indicated. Three figures were in charge of overseeing the construction of the hall: the vizier and the ṣāḥib al-madīna of Cordoba, ʿAbdallāh b. Badr, who is mentioned in the inscription on the frieze at the entrance to the hall; the fatā and mawlā of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii, Shunayf, whose name appears in the interior of the hall; and Jaʿfar b. ʿAbd al-Raḥmān or Jaʿfar al-Ṣiqlābī, the caliph’s fatā and mawlā since 345, to whom reference is made in the front salon.70 These inscriptions refer to all the protocolary titles of this sovereign; the complete titulature that his successors would use from that time on. To the two titles of Eastern Umayyad tradition, ʿAbdallāh and Amīr al-muʾminīn, we must add that of Imām in the Sunni sense and a laqab in Allāh, al-Nāṣir li-dīn Allāh, both imitating those already held by the Abbasid and Fatimid caliphs.71 The full titles are only provided for ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii in these friezes of the hall, while those of Umayyad tradition are found in pedestals, capitals, pilasters, and small arches, as well as in other inscriptions in the provinces. In the cartouches of the capitals, or at the end of the formulas of these inscriptions, the term ʿamal (work of) is usually included, followed by one or more names of individuals referred to as ʿabīd (slaves or servants) of the caliph and sometimes as al-ʿabīd al-naqqāshūn (slave sculptors). These names, some of which can be found in the inscriptions of the extension of the Mosque of Cordoba and in the legends of sumptuary objects that the caliph commissioned for those in his immediate circle, most likely make reference to the aṣḥāb (chiefs) of the various workshops of the caliphal dār al-ṣināʿa, rather than the authors of the tiny inscriptions that adorn capitals, pilasters, and some decorative wooden panels.72 This has been the interpretation in similar cases in other Islamic territories.73 This new formula transformed the traditional Umayyad foundational text into a dedicatory text in favor of the sovereign and was an exact replica of the one introduced by the Abbasids, especially in the state manufactures, and which the Fatimid caliphs used with specific Ismaʿili additions. This dissociation of formulas continued during the period of al-Nāṣir74 and survived at the time of the second caliph, al-Ḥakam al-Mustanṣir bi-llāh, since

70 71 72 73 74

Martínez Núñez, La epigrafía del Salón 138–142. Martínez Núñez, La epigrafía del Salón 144–146. Martínez Núñez, La epigrafía del Salón 142–144; Martínez Núñez, Epígrafes 90–92. Ory, De l’or 245–246; Contadini, Fatimid 81–82. Good proof of this is the inscription of the Puerta de las Palmas (Gate of the Palms) com-

322

martínez-núñez

figure 13.7

Mosque of Cordoba. Kufic of the imposts of the arch of access to the miḥrāb (354/965)

the inscriptions in the name of this sovereign, such as the capitals of al-Zahrāʾ and the alcazar of Cordoba,75 as well as the foundational inscriptions,76 adhere to this specific formula type. Under al-Ḥakam, simple Kufic script was imposed; a new modality that remained in force until the end of the caliphate and later in Cordoba itself and other areas of al-Andalus. The new design was characterized by the suppression of all the decorative floral elements of the Kufic strokes, without renouncing the improvements introduced in the previous stage. The simple Kufic was not adopted immediately, as demonstrated by the small decorative arch in the baths adjacent to the Hall of al-Nāṣir, which must be attributed to the year 351/962, a date close to his death in 350/961.77 The first examples of simple Kufic date from 353/964–965; a date that is inscribed in the capitals that M. Ocaña attributed to the halls of the alcazar of Cordoba mentioned above and whose inscriptions state that they were made li-majālis al-qaṣr (for the halls of the alcazar). The inscriptions that represent the definitive consolidation of simple Kufic are those that commemorate the great enlargement carried out by order of al-Ḥakam ii in the Aljama Mosque of Cordoba, the most important from an epigraphic point of view. Among them, the most notable are the inscriptions appearing on the imposts of the arch leading to the miḥrāb (fig. 13.7), with an express date of 354/965, as well as the mosaic inscription of the doorframe on the façade of the miḥrāb dating from 360/970–971 after the death of the

75 76 77

memorating the restoration of the north wall of the oratory of the mosque in Cordoba in 346/954, Lévi-Provençal, Inscriptions 8–9, no. 9; Ocaña Jiménez, El cúfico 33– 34. Ocaña Jiménez, Obras; Martínez Núñez, Epígrafes; Ocaña Jiménez, Capiteles epigrafiados. For only the inscriptions of Cordoba, see Lévi-Provençal, Inscriptions 9–26; Ocaña Jiménez, El cúfico 36–41. Vallejo Triano, El baño 141, 150–151; Martínez Núñez, Epígrafes 85–86.

when the stones speak: believing, living, and dying in qurṭuba

323

ḥājib Jaʿfar.78 The formulas of these epigraphs, like those of the mosque of al-Zahrāʾ, mix foundational texts with various fragments from the revealed text.79 From that moment on, simple Kufic was imposed throughout al-Andalus in all types of inscriptions, and florid Kufic was used sporadically in some stelae and sumptuary objects, such as the ivory caskets manufactured at Madīnat alZahrāʾ by order of al-Ḥakam for his sister Wallāda,80 or the Girona casket he commissioned for Hishām, his designated heir (walī ʿahd al-muslimīn).81 The same thing occurred during the caliphate of Hishām ii. Regarding funerary elements, stelae in flowery or simple Kufic proliferate in Cordoba. I will only mention a few that I consider of interest: 1) a fragment of a stela with the epitaph of a woman, whose name has been lost. This is the oldest funerary stela of the Cordoban caliphate (328/940) and is preserved in the Museum of Malaga.82 2) The epitaph of ʿAbd al-Dāʾim b. Aflaḥ al-Jaʿfarī (last quarter of the 4th/10th century), which states that he died in the city of Badajoz and was buried in Cordoba in the maqbara of Quraysh.83 His nisba indicates that he must have belonged to someone related to the ḥājib Jaʿfar al-Ṣiqlabī. 3) The fragment of a funerary stela that appeared in Cordoba in 2005, which contains the epitaph in simple Kufic of a woman, a freed slave (mawla) of the caliph.84 The stela bears no date but must be later than 366/976, the year alḤakam died, because raḥima-hu Allāh appears after his name, as occurs in the epitaph of an umm walad of the same caliph.85 Both date from the early years of the caliphate of Hishām ii. 4) A fragment of an epitaph corresponding to the period of the third caliph from the cemetery in the city outskirts that names Hishām with his titles and contains a petition of permanence, which has been dated to the last quarter of the 10th century.86 Two badly damaged fragments of foundational texts inscribed with the name Hishām al-Muʾayyad bi-llāh have also been documented in Cordoba. One

78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86

Ocaña Jiménez, El cúfico 36–37, 39–41, no. 21, 24, prints. 21, 24–25; Ocaña Jiménez, Inscripciones árabes; Ocaña Jiménez, Las inscripciones. Martínez Núñez, El Corán 129–138. Ocaña Jiménez, El cúfico no. 22, 23, print 22; Martínez Núñez, Mujeres 309–310, no. 3. Labarta, La arqueta. Lévi-Provençal, Inscriptions 4–5, no. 4; Acién Almansa and Martínez Núñez, Catálogo 23– 24, no. 4, print 4. Ocaña Jiménez, Nuevas inscripciones 387–388, no. 8, print 24 c. Monferrer Sala and Salinas Pleguezuelo, Epígrafe; Martínez Núñez, Epigrafía monumental 39; Barceló, Seis epígrafes 401–404, no. 3. Lévi-Provençal, Inscriptions 26–27, no. 19, pl. 6 c. Labarta and Barceló, Miscelánea 552–553, print 1 a.

324

martínez-núñez

is now in the Instituto Valencia de Don Juan (Madrid) and the other in the Ramírez de Arellano collection.87 The turban of this caliph must have been made in the caliphal dār al-ṭirāz; an exceptional piece that belongs to the Spanish Royal Academy of History.88 From these Cordoban epigraphs, and from many others of different provenance,89 we know that simple Kufic continued to be used in Hishām’s time, with remnants of the florid script only being found in the headdress or in the foundational epigraph of a source in Écija ordered by his mother, Ṣubḥ.90 We also know that, like his predecessors, the caliph used his full titulature and was referred to by the title of Khalīfa that was woven into his turban. No inscription bearing the name of Hishām, either as designated heir or as caliph, has been preserved at Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ. This may be due to the caliph’s young age, his mother’s prominent role,91 or the usurpation of power by alManṣūr and his heirs. The construction of Madīnat al-Zāhira by the ḥājib is the best example of this usurpation. The epigraphy of Madīnat al-Zāhira, such as that of the basin dating 377/987–988, commissioned by al-Manṣūr and now kept in the National Archaeological Museum,92 or the famous casket of Leire dating 395/1004, commissioned for his son ʿAbd al-Mālik,93 reveals this monopolization of power, as well as its formal limitations.94 Although the persons mentioned in the inscription are referred to as Hishām’s ḥājibs, they themselves commissioned the pieces and to whom the inscriptions are dedicated; laudatory formulas that had previously been used to address the caliph. They also boast the honorific names of al-Manṣūr or al-Muẓaffar, although they are not attributed the laqab in Allāh, which was the sole prerogative of the caliph.95 The great fitna of the early 11th century (1009–1013) marked the beginning of the end of the Umayyad Caliphate and resulted in the decline of Cordoba, the destruction of Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, and the plundering of its materials; both the sumptuary objects, of which a good number went on to swell the treasures of Christian temples and convents, as well as architectural elements, especially

87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95

Souto Lasala, Las inscripciones 115, no. 11, print 11; Lévi-Provençal, Inscriptions 27–28, no. 20, pl. 6 d. Dodds, Al-Andalus 249–251, no. 41; Martínez Núñez, Epigrafía árabe 211–214, no. 81. Barceló, Lisboa 175–177. Souto Lasala, Las inscripciones árabes 241–261. Martínez Núñez, Mujeres 297–301. Ocaña Jiménez, El cúfico 42, no. 27, print 27. Ocaña Jiménez, El cúfico 43–44, no. 29, print 29. Martínez Núñez, Sentido 416–417. Guichard, Al-Manṣūr. On Almanzor’s building works, titles, and formulas in the epigraphic sources, see Barceló, Lisboa 179–184.

when the stones speak: believing, living, and dying in qurṭuba

325

capitals, which were scattered and reutilized throughout the peninsula and also in the Maghreb.96

5

Epigraphy of Cordoba after the Fall of the Umayyad Caliphate: 11th–13th Centuries

The abolition of the Umayyad Caliphate in 422/1031 put an end to the supremacy of Cordoba in many respects, including epigraphy. New centers of production, such as Toledo, Seville, or Zaragoza,97 took over from the former capital of the Umayyad Caliphate. As M. Ocaña Jiménez has argued,98 determining the characteristics of 11thcentury Cordoban Kufic is a risky venture due to the scarcity of dated inscriptions and the existing gaps in the chronology. However, according to the preserved epigraphy, all of it funerary, it can be said that the simple Kufic of the Umayyad caliphal tradition was maintained. A good example of this are five epitaphs, four of which appeared in 1994 and another that is housed in the Art Museum of Barcelona, all dated 401–402/1011, the height of the fitna.99 The epigraphic features of these pieces have been considered a transition between caliphal and 11th-century Kufic. M. Ocaña Jiménez suggested a certain stagnation in the execution of Kufic script during the first half of the 11th century based on the Kufic used in the epitaph for a man from 436/1044.100 A tombstone found on the road to the sierra of Cordoba bears the epitaph of Naṣr (432/1040) engraved in Kufic displaying archaic features.101 In the second half of the 11th century an unquestionable improvement was made to Cordoban Kufic, which featured a similar design to that of the Kufic script used in the foundational inscriptions of the Abbadid dynasty in Seville.102 This improvement can be seen first in a funerary stela of the Maqbarat al-rabaḍ (fig. 13.8), which bears the epitaph of a woman, al-Tujībī’s

96 97 98 99 100 101 102

Martínez Núñez, La epigrafía árabe 162–164; Cressier and Cantero Sosa, Difussion; RosserOwen, Andalusi spolia. Ocaña Jiménez, La epigrafía; Martínez Núñez, La epigrafía árabe 170–177. Ocaña Jiménez, La epigrafía 201. Labarta and Barceló, Cuatro epitafios. Ocaña Jiménez, La epigrafía 201, fig. 7; Lévi-Provençal, Inscriptions no. 22, pl. 7 b. Lévi-Provençal, Inscriptions no. 21, pl. 7 a, who corrects the reading of Amador de los Ríos. Labarta, Fragmento epigráfico 242; Martínez Núñez, Escritura 139.

326

martínez-núñez

figure 13.8 Funerary stele with the epitaph of a woman (446/1054). Archaeological and Ethnographic Museum of Córdoba

mawlā who died in 446/1054,103 as well as in a fragment of a stela with the epitaph of a man, which has been dated between 1070 and 1090.104 The simple Kufic of Seville, of the Cordovan tradition, was characterized by the development of the heigh of the graphemes, which endowed the script with a great slenderness, and by the design of some strokes, especially the lāmalif ligature.105 This modality, authentic dynastic writing, was imposed in all the Abbadid domains, such as Moura in the al-Andalus gharb,106 and Cordoba, which was finally annexed by al-Muʿtamid in 462/1070.107 This austere script served as the basis for Almoravid Kufic; a stage in which this modality achieved its greatest technical perfection. It is an improvement that has been documented in Almeria, as well as in Malaga and Cordoba.108

103 104 105 106 107 108

Madīnat Qurtuba, Madīnat Qurtuba 58, 85; Martínez Núñez, Epigrafía monumental 49, fig. 12; Barceló, Seis epígrafes 404–407, no. 4, fig. 4. Labarta, Fragmento epigráfico. Ocaña Jiménez, La epigrafía 199. Martínez Núñez, La epigrafía árabe 176–177. Viguera Molins, Las taifas 104–108. Ocaña Jiménez, La epigrafía 201; Martínez Núñez, Epigrafía monumental 51.

when the stones speak: believing, living, and dying in qurṭuba

327

The funerary stelae of Cordoba provide good proof of this: that of the inscribed horseshoe arch with the epitaph of Badr, daughter of an Almoravid emir (496/1103);109 three stelae that were reutilized in the Baroque reform of the church of La Magdalena, one which contains the epitaph of a faqīh and ṣāḥib al-aḥkām of Cordoba (516/1122);110 and another that is engraved on both sides, one side of which has an inscribed arch bearing the epitaph of Abū Muḥammad Sīr (517/1123), son of Emir Abū Bakr b. Muḥammad b. Tāshufīn (517/1123), the Almoravid governor of Cordoba.111 In contrast to what occurred during the Taifa period, the epigraphy of Almoravid Cordoba was not limited to the funerary sphere. In this regard, two ablution basins are worthy of mention. One is kept in the city’s archaeological museum and had been considered to be of caliphal manufacture,112 and the other one is in the Cathedral of Santander (fig. 13.9).113 Both reproduce poetic texts in simple Kufic with floral motifs between the ascenders. The same calligraphic features and poetic content can be found in a fragment of a small brazier and another fragment of a basin discovered in 1991,114 to which must be added a marble wellhead also kept in the Archaeological Museum of Córdoba.115 In 1962, fragments of decorative plasterwork were found in the baths of the caliphal alcazar, whose inscriptions in simple Kufic script have made it possible to date them to the Almoravid period and to consider them, together with other anepigraphic fragments from the Taifa period, the origin of Andalusi plasterwork.116 During the Almohad period, the last of the al-Andalus periods of Cordoba, the city temporarily recovered its capital under Caliph ʿAbd al-Muʾmin and experienced new urban and defensive development.117 This situation, however, was scarcely reflected in the epigraphic record, as few Almohad inscriptions have been found in Cordoba.

109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117

Lévi-Provençal, Inscriptions 30–31, no. 24; Acién Almansa and Martínez Núñez, Catálogo 30–31, no. 14; Martínez Núñez, Mujeres 319–320, no. 16. See MartínezNúñez, Estelas funerarias 134–138, no, 1 for the epitaph of the faqīh. Lévi-Provençal, Inscriptions 32–34, no. 27, pl. 9 a, b; Ocaña Jiménez, La epigrafía 202, fig. 9. Amador de los Ríos, Inscripciones 379–381; corrected by Ocaña Jiménez, La pila. García Gómez, La inscripción. Labarta and Barceló, Braserillo 292. Amador de los Ríos, Inscripciones 375–377, who dates the wellhead to the 5th/11th century. Ocaña Jiménez, La epigrafía 202, fig. 10; Ocaña Jiménez, El origen 144–145, fig. 3. Blanco Guzmán, Córdoba 505–506.

328

figure 13.9

martínez-núñez

Basin of the Cathedral of Santander, with poetic inscription. It comes from Cordoba. Drawing by M. Ocañ a, Al-Andalus, 12, 1 (1947), 157

In contrast, the numerous plasterwork fragments with intricate ataurique decorative motifs and remnants of epigraphic ornamentation, also in the baths of the alcazar, do correspond to the Almohad period.118 Moreover, there are some Almohad bronzes with Kufic inscriptions in the Museum of Córdoba,119 which had been considered of caliphal make, and some ceramic wellheads with decorative floral patterns and inscriptions in the same type of Kufic (fig. 13.10) containing the terms al-mulk and al-baraka, as well as others of a similar kind.120 The funerary epigraphy is represented by a marble stela with an geminate arch and epigraphic border, containing the epitaph of an Almohad shaykh (587/1191) in Kufic and cursive script.121 All these inscriptions reveal the unique features the Kufic script acquired during the Almohad period, as well as the use of this script simultaneously with the cursive.122

118 119 120

121 122

Ocaña Jiménez, Panorama 101, figs. 18–19. Ocaña Jiménez, Los supuestos. Inventories ce028060, ce007515, and do000047, see online webDOMUS: http:// www.juntadeandalucia.es/cultura/WEBDomus/domus.jsp?lng=es (last accessed July 7, 2019). Lévi-provençal, Inscriptions 34–35, no. 28, pl. 9 c. Martínez Núñez, Epigrafía y propaganda.

when the stones speak: believing, living, and dying in qurṭuba

329

figure 13.10 Almohad ceramic wellhead. archaeological and ethnographic museum of cordoba

Bibliography Acién Almansa, M., Un posible origen de la torre residencial en al-Andalus, in Martí, R. (ed.), Fars de l’Islam. Antigues alimares d’al-Andalus, Barcelona 2008, 57– 88. Acién Almansa, M., and E. Manzano Moreno, Organización social y administrativa de al-Andalus bajo el emirato (Territorio, Sociedad y Poder, Anejos 2), Oviedo 2009, 331– 348. Acién Almansa, M., and M.A. Martínez Núñez, Catálogo de las inscripciones árabes del Museo de Málaga, Madrid 1982. Acién Almansa, M., and A. Vallejo Triano, Urbanismo y estado islámico. De Córdoba a Qurṭuba-Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, in P. Cressier, M. García Arenal, and M. Meouak (eds.), Genèse de la ville islamique en al-Andalus et au Maghreb occidental, Madrid 1998, 107–136. Amador de los Ríos, R., Inscripciones árabes de Córdoba precedidas de un estudio histórico-crítico de la Mezquita Aljama, Madrid 1879. Ariza Armada, A., Los dinares bilingües de al-Andalus y el Magreb, in Revista Numismática Hécate 3 (2016), 137–158. Azuar, R., De arqueología mozárabe, in Arqueología y Territorio Medieval 22 (2015), 121– 145. Barceló, M., Sobre algunos fulūs contemporáneos a la conquista de Hispania por los árabe-musulmanes, in Boletín de la Real Academia de la Buenas Letras de Barcelona 34 (1971–1972), 33–42.

330

martínez-núñez

Barceló, M., Un fals de yihad encunyat a Tanya probablement abans de 92–711, in Acta Numismática 7 (1977), 187–189. Barceló Torres, C., Estructura textual de los epitafios andalusíes (siglos ix–xiii), in Homenaje a Manuel Ocaña Jiménez, Córdoba 1990, 41–54. Barceló Torres, C., Las inscripciones omeyas de la alcazaba de Mérida, in Arqueología y Territorio Medieval 11 (2004), 59–78. Barceló Torres, C., Lisboa y Almanzor (374H./985.), in Coninbriga 52 (2013), 165–194. Barceló Torres, C., Epigrafía cristiana de al-Andalus: mozárabe y latina, in Arqueología y Territorio Medieval 26 (2019), 115–138. Barceló Torres, C., Seis epígrafes árabes de Andalucía, in Anales de Arqueología Cordobesa 30 (2019), 393–420. Berlanga, M.R., Catálogo del Museo Loringiano, Malaga 1903. Blair, Sh., Inscriptions on medieval Islamic textils, in Islamische textilkunst des Mittelaters: Aktuelle Probleme, Bern 1997, 95–104. Blair, Sh., Islamic inscriptions, Edinburgh 1998. Blair, Sh., Islamic calligraphy, Edinburgh 2008. Blanco Guzmán, R., Córdoba y el califato almohade: una lectura arqueológica, in P. Cressier and V. Salvatierra Cuenca (eds.), Miradas Cruzadas 1212–2012. La batalla de las Navas de Tolosa, Jaen 2014, 499–508. Canto García, A., Las monedas y la conquista, in Zona Arqueológica 15 (2011), 135–146. Canto García, A., and T. Ibrahim, Moneda andalusí en la Alhambra. Palacio de Carlos v—Granada, marzo-agosto 1997, Granada 1997. Casal García, M.T., F. Martín Escudero, and A. Canto García, El arrabal de Šaqunda: feluses y materiales aparecidos en las últimas excavaciones arqueológicas, in A. Arévalo González (ed.), Actas xiii Congreso nacional de Numismática «Moneda y Arqueología», Cádiz, 22–24 de octubre de 2007, ii, Madrid and Cadiz 2009, 845–865. Chalmeta, P., Los primeros 46 años de economía andalusí, in Alhadra 1 (2015), 41– 88. Chalmeta, P., Derecho y economía: cristianos andalusíes, in Mainake 36 (2016), 137–174 Contadini, A., Fatimid art and the Victoria and Albert Museum, London 1998. Cressier, P., and M. Cantero Sosa, Difussion et remploi des chapitaux omeyyades après la chute du califat de Cordoue. Politique architecturale et architecture politique, in P. Trousset (ed.), Productions et exportations africaines. Actualités archéologiques. vième Colloque international. L’Afrique du Nord antique et médiévale, Paris 1995, 159– 174. Domenech Belda, C., and S. Gutiérrez Lloret, Viejas y nuevas monedas en la ciudad emiral de Madīnat Iyyuh (El Tolmo de Minateda, Hellín, Albacete), in Qanṭara 27 (2006), 337–374. Dodds, J.D. (ed.), Al-Andalus. Las artes islámicas en España, Madrid 1992. Fierro, M., El espacio de los muertos: fetuas andalusíes sobre tumbas y cementerios, in

when the stones speak: believing, living, and dying in qurṭuba

331

P. Cressier, M. Fierro, and J.P. van Stäevel (eds.), L’urbanisme dans l’Occident musulman au Môyen Âge: aspects juridiques, Madrid 2000, 153–190. Frochoso Sánchez, R., Los feluses de al-Andalus, Madrid 2001. Frochoso Sánchez, R., Las acuñ aciones de Muḥammad i (238–273 h.), in Qanṭara 27 (2006), 375–389. Fuertes Santos, M.C., and R. Hidalgo Prieto, La transformación del paisaje en el área noroccidental cordobesa y del palacio imperial de Maximiano tras la caída de la Tetrarquía, in A. García et al. (eds.), Espacios urbanos en el occidente mediterráneo (s. vi–viii), Toledo 2010, 165–172. García Gómez, E., La inscripción árabe de la pila de Santander, in Al-Andalus 12 (1947), 155–161. García Lerga, R.L., Hallazgos monetarios en la Vega Baja de Toledo, in Gaceta Numismática 183 (2012), 17–69. Gaspariño García, S., and R. Frochoso Sánchez, Las inscripciones andalusíes de la colección Romero de Torres, in Al-Mulk 10 (2012), 42–64. Gayangos, P. de, Inscripciones arábigas de Córdoba, in Memorial Histórico Español 6 (1853), 311–325. Gilotte, S., and A. Nef, L’apport de l’archéologie, de la numismatique et de la sigillographie à l’histoire de l’islamisation de l’Occident musulman: en guise d’introduction, in D. Valerian (ed.), Islamisation et arabisation de l’Occident musulman (viie– xiie siècle), Paris 2011, 63–102. Gómez Moreno, M., Capiteles árabes documentados, in Al-Andalus 6 (1941), 422–427. Gómez Moreno, M., El arte árabe español hasta los almohades. Arte Mozárabe (Ars Hispaniae 3), Madrid 1951. González Fernández, J., La epigrafía mozárabe: testimonio de una minoría religiosa, in Actas del iii Congreso Hispánico de Latín Medieval (León, 26–29 de septiembre de 2001), ii, Leon 2002, 741–752. Guichard, P., Al-Manṣūr o al-Manṣūr bi-llãh? Les laqab/s des Amirides d’après la numismatique et les documents officiels, in Archéologie Islamique 5 (1995), 47–53. Guichard, P., Córdoba, de la conquista musulmana a la conquista cristiana, in Awraq. Estudios sobre el mundo árabe e islámico contemporáneos 7 (2013), 5–24. Gutiérrez Lloret, S., El reconocimiento arqueológico de la islamización, una mirada desde al-Andalus, in Zona Arqueológica 15 (2011), 189–210. Ibrahim, T., Un precinto a nombre de ʿAbd al-Raḥmān i, in Qanṭara 16 (1995), 143–145. Ibrahim, T., Nuevos documentos sobre la conquista omeya de Hispania: los precintos de plomo, in Zona Arqueológica 15 (2011), 147–174. Ibrahim, T., Additions to the lead seals of the Umayyad conquest of the Iberian Peninsula, in Ph. Sénac and S. Gasc (eds.), Monnaies du haut Moyen Âge: histoire et archéologie (péninsule Ibérique-Maghreb, viie–xie siècle) (Villa 5), Toulouse 2015, 115– 132.

332

martínez-núñez

Ibrahim, T., Los precintos de la conquista y el dominio omeya de Hispania, in Manquso. Gacetilla de Estudios Epigráficos y Numismáticos Andalusíes 4 (2016), 7–38. Ibrahim, T., Aghlabid lead seal of an unpublished date, 254H: An order given by the emir Muḥammad ii b. Aḥmad, in Manquso. Gacetilla de Estudios Epigráficos y Numismáticos Andalusíes 4 (2016), 49–50. Ibrahim, T., and S. Gaspariño, Adiciones a los precintos de la conquista. Córdoba, Elvira y una variante de al-Andalus, in Manquso. Gacetilla de Estudios Epigráficos y Numismáticos Andalusíes 4 (2016), 39–42. El Khayari, A., and A. Akerraz, Al-Qaṣr al-Awwal. Nouvelles données archéologiques sur l’occupation de la basse vallée de Ksar de la période tardo-antique au haut Moyenâge, in F. Benlabbah and A. El Boudjay (comps.), Ksar Seghir. 2500 ans d’échanges intercivilisationnels en Méditerranée. Actes du Colloque, Rabat 2012, 11–34. Labarta, A., Fragmento epigráfico cordobés de época taifa, in Qantara 15 (1994), 241– 243. Labarta, A., La arqueta de Hišām: su epigrafía, in Svmma 6 (2015), 1–24. Labarta, A., Parada militar en la Córdoba omeya y restos arqueológicos, in Mainake 26 (2016), 263–278. Labarta, A., and C. Barceló, Miscelánea epigráfica, in Qantara 13 (1992), 537–559. Labarta, A., and C. Barceló, Cuatro epitafios cordobeses del año 1011, in Qanṭara 16 (1995), 151–162. Labarta, A., and C. Barceló, Braserillo con inscripción árabe, in A. Ventura et al., El teatro romano de Córdoba, Córdoba 2002, 291–292. Lévi-Provençal, E., Inscriptions arabes d’Espagne, avec quarante-quatre planches en phototypie, 2 vols., Leyde and Paris 1931. Madinat Qurṭuba, Madinat Qurṭuba. Ciudad y Materia, [Exhibition Catalog], Córdoba 2013. Manzano Moreno, E., Conquistadores, emires y califas. Los omeyas y la formación de alAndalus, Barcelona 2006. Manzano Moreno, E., La conquista militar de al-Andalus, in Andalucía en la Historia 4 (2011), 10–17. Martínez Castro, A., Una hipótesis sobre la ubicación de la torre islámica de Diezma Ayusa (Campiña de Córdoba), in Antiquitas 15 (2003), 65–71. Martínez Núñez, M.A., La estela funeraria en el mundo andalusí, in C. De La Casa Martínez (ed.), Actas del v Congreso Internacional de Estelas Funerarias. Soria 28 de abril–1 de mayo de 1993, Soria 1994, 419–444. Martinez Núñez, M.A., La epigrafía del Salón de ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii, in A. Vallejo Triano (comp.), Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ. El Salón de ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii, Córdoba 1995, 107– 152. Martinez Núñez, M.A, Estelas funerarias de época almorávide aparecidas en Córdoba, in Miscelánea de Estudios Árabes y Hebraicos. Sección Árabe-Islam 45 (1996), 133–146.

when the stones speak: believing, living, and dying in qurṭuba

333

Martinez Núñez, M.A., Escritura árabe ornamental y epigrafía andalusí, in Arqueología y Territorio Medieval 4 (1997), 127–162. Martinez Núñez, M.A., Epigrafía y propaganda almohades, in Qanṭara 18 (1997), 415– 445. Martínez Núñez, M.A., Epígrafes a nombre de al-Ḥakam en Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, in Cuadernos de Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ 4 (1999), 83–103. Martínez Núñez, M.A., Sentido de la epigrafía omeya de al-Andalus, in M.J. Viguera Molins and C. Castillo (comp.), El esplendor de los Omeyas cordobeses. La civilización musulmana de Europa Occidental. Exposición en Madinat al-Zahraʾ. 3 de mayo a 30 de septiembre de 2001, Estudios, Granada 2001, 408–417. Martínez Núñez, M.A., Epitafio de ʿUqār, in A. Vallejo Triano and R. López Guzmán (comp.), El esplendor de los Omeyas cordobeses. La civilización musulmana de Europa Occidental. Exposición en Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ. 3 de mayo a 30 de septiembre de 2001, Catálogo de piezas, Granada 2001, 98–99. Martínez Núñez, M.A., Mujeres y élites sociales en al-Andalus a través de la documentación epigráfica, in M.I. Calero Secall (comp.), Mujeres y sociedad islámica: una visión plural, Malaga 2006, 287–328. Martínez Núñez, M.A., Epigrafía árabe. Catálogo del Gabinete de Antigüedades. Real Academia de la Historia, with the collaboration of I. Rodríguez Casanova and A. Canto García, Madrid 2007. Martínez Núñez, M.A., El Corán en los textos epigráficos andalusíes, in M.H. De Larramendi and S. Peña Martín (comp.), El Corán ayer y hoy. Perspectivas actuales sobre el Islam. Estudios en honor al profesor Julio Cortés, Córdoba 2008, 125– 144. Martínez Núñez, M.A., Epigrafía árabe e historia de al-Andalus: nuevos hallazgos y datos, in Xelb 9 (2009), 39–54. Martínez Núñez, M.A., Epigrafía funeraria en al-Andalus (siglos ix–xii), in Mélanges de la Casa de Velazquez, Nouvelle Série 41 (2011), 181–209. Martínez Núñez, M.A., La epigrafía árabe durante el periodo de taifas: los afṭasíes de Badajoz, in J. Zozaya Stabel-Hansen and G.S. Kurtz Schaefer (eds.), Bataliús iii. Estudios sobre el reino aftasí. Remembranza sobre un Ciclo de Conferencias tenido en Badajoz el 13 y el 14 de marzo de 2014, Badajoz 2014, 157–182. Martínez Núñez, M.A., Las fuentes epigráficas. Siglos ix–x, in Jábega. Revista de la Diputación Provincial de Málaga 105 (2014), 59–73. Martínez Núñez, M.A., Epigrafía monumental y élites sociales en al-Andalus, in A. Malpica Coello and B. Sarr Marroco (eds.), Arqueología Medieval: Epigrafía árabe y Arqueología medieval, Granada 2015, 19–60. Martínez Núñez, M.A., Recientes hallazgos epigráficos en Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ y nueva onomástica relacionada con la dār al-ṣināʿa califal (Arqueología y Territorio Medieval, Anejos 1), Jaen 2015.

334

martínez-núñez

Martínez Núñez, M.A., and M. Acién Almansa, La epigrafía de Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, in Cuadernos de Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ 5 (2004), 107–158. Monferrer Sala, J.P., and E. Salinas Pleguezuelo, Epígrafe con epitafio de una ‘virgen’ del califa al-Ḥakam segundo, in Anales de Arqueología Cordobesa 20 (2009), 491– 498. Ocaña Jiménez, M., Capiteles epigrafiados del Alcázar de Córdoba, in Al-Andalus 3 (1935), 155–167. Ocaña Jiménez, M., Obras de al-Ḥakam ii en Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, in Al-Andalus 6 (1941), 157–168. Ocaña Jiménez, M., La pila de abluciones del Museo de Córdoba, in Al-Andalus 6 (1941), 446–451. Ocaña Jiménez, M., Nuevas inscripciones árabes de Córdoba, in Al-Andalus 17 (1952), 379–388. Ocaña Jiménez, M., El cúfico hispano y su evolución, Madrid 1970. Ocaña Jiménez, M., Las inscripciones en mosaico del miḥrāb de la Gran Mezquita de Córdoba y la incógnita de su data, in H. Stern, Les mosaiques de la Grande Mosquée de Cordoue (Madrider Forschungen 11), Berlín 1976, 48–52. Ocaña Jiménez, M., Arquitectos y mano de obra en la construcción de la gran mezquita de Occidente, in Boletín de la Real Academia de Córdoba de Ciencias, Bellas Letras y Nobles Artes 102 (1981), 97–137. Ocaña Jiménez, M., La epigrafía hispano-árabe durante el periodo de taifas y almorávides, in Actas del iv Coloquio hispano-tunecino, Palma de Mallorca, 1979, Madrid 1983, 197–204. Ocaña Jiménez, M., El origen de la yesería andalusí, a juzgar por un hallazgo olvidado, in Boletín de la Real Academia de Córdoba, Bellas Letras y Nobles Artes 106 (1984), 139–147. Ocaña Jiménez, M., Los supuestos bronces califales del Museo Arqueológico Provincial de Córdoba, in Actas de las ii Jornadas de Cultura Árabe e Islámica (Madrid, 1980), Madrid 1985, 405–418. Ocaña Jiménez, M., Inscripciones árabes fundacionales de la Mezquita-Catedral de Córdoba, in Cuadernos de Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ 2 (1988–1990), 9–28. Ocaña Jiménez, M., Panorámica sobre el arte almohade en España, in Cuadernos de la Alhambra 26 (1990), 91–107. Ory, S., Les graffiti umayyades de ʿAyn Ǧarr, in Bulletin du Musée de Beyrouth 20 (1967), 97–148. Ory, S., Kitābāt: ii Proche Orient, in ei2, v, 213–215. Ory, S., Aspects religieuses des textes épigraphiques du début de l’Islam, in remmm 58 (1990), 30–39. Ory, S., De l’or du sultan à la lumière d’Allah. La mosquée al-ʿAbbās à Asnāf (Yémen), Damascus 1999.

when the stones speak: believing, living, and dying in qurṭuba

335

Ory, S., L’épigraphie umayyade syro-palestinienne, in Cuadernos de Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ 5 (2004), 159–171. Rāgib, Y., Structure de la tombe d’après le droit musulman, in Arabica 39 (1992), 393– 403. Revilla Vielva, R., Patio árabe del Museo Arqueológico Nacional, Madrid 1932. Ritter, M., Umayyad foundation inscriptions and the inscription of al-Walīd from Khirbat al-Minya: Text, usage, visual form, in H.P. Kuhnen (ed.), Khirbat al-Minya: Der Umayyadenpalast am See Genezareth (Orient-Archäologie 36), Rahden 2016, 59– 83. Rosser-Owen, M.: Andalusi spolia in medieval Morocco: “Architectural politics, political architecture,” in Medieval encounters 20 (2014), 152–198. Saavedra, E., Inscripciones árabes de la Casa de Villaceballos en Córdoba, in Boletín de la Real Academia de la Historia 11 (1887), 161–167. Sénac, Ph. et al., Nouveaux vestiges de la présence musulmane en Narbonnaise au viiie siècle, in Qanṭara 35 (2014), 61–94. Sénac, Ph., and T. Ibrahim, Notes sur des sceaux de la conquête omeyyade (première moitié du viiie siècle), in B. Caseau, V. Prigent, and A. Sopracasa (eds.), Mélanges Jean-Claude Cheynet, (Travaux et mémoires 21/1), Paris 2017, 645–656. Sénac, Ph., and T. Ibrahim, Los precintos de la conquista omeya y la formación de alAndalus (711–756), trans. R. Peinado Santaella and B. Sarr, Granada 2017. Serrano Peña, J.L., and J.C. Castillo Armenteros, Las necrópolis musulmanas de Marroquíes Bajos (Jaén). Avance de las investigaciones arqueológicas, in Arqueología y Territorio Medieval 7 (2000), 93–120. Sourdel-Thomine, J., Inscriptions et graffiti árabes d’époque umayyade, in rei 32 (1964), 115–120. Souto Lasala, J.A., Las inscripciones árabes de la Iglesia de Santa Cruz de Écija (Sevilla): dos documentos emblemáticos del Estado omeya andalusí, in Al-Andalus-Magreb 10 (2002–2003), 215–263. Souto Lasala, J.A., Las inscripciones constructivas de la época del gobierno de Almanzor, in Qanṭara 38 (2007), 101–142. Souto Lasala, J.A., Siervos y afines en al-Andalus omeya a la luz de las inscripciones constructivas, in Espacio, Tiempo y Forma. Historia Medieval 23 (2010), 205– 263. Souto Lasala, J.A., “Glyptographie omeyyade : croquis de travailleurs de la grande mosquée de Cordoue”, in Actes du xiiie Colloque International de Glyptographie de Venise, Braine-le-Château 2003, 361–384. Torres Balbás, L., Cementerios hispanomsulmanes, in Al-Andalus 12 (1957), 131–191. Vallejo Triano, A., El baño próximo al Salón de Abd al-Rahman iii, in Cuadernos de Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ 1 (1987), 141–152. Vallejo Triano, A., La trayectoria científica de Don Manuel Ocaña Jiménez, in Homenaje a Manuel Ocaña Jiménez, Córdoba 1990, 7–20.

336

martínez-núñez

Viguera Molins, M.J., Las taifas, in M.J. Viguera Molins (comp.), Los reinos de taifas. AlAndalus en el siglo xi (Historia de España Ramón Menéndez Pidal, 8,1), Madrid 1994, 31–129. Viguera Molins, M.J., Cuando Córdoba pasó a ser capital de al-Andalus, in Al-Mulk 15 (2017), 13–43. Zozaya, J., Campana de bronce, in Catálogo, Zona Arqueológica 15 (2011), 282.

chapter 14

The Jews of Cordoba José Martínez Delgado

From the very beginnings of the settlement around the mouth of the Guadalquivir River and through its foundation as Patricia and the Visigoth period, there are no explicit reports of a Jewish presence in Cordoba until the fall of King Roderick (reigned 710–711).1 The Jewish quarter during the Islamic period, located north of the river and known in the sources as rabaḍ Bāb al-yahūd (Quarter of the Gate of the Jews),2 appears to have taken shape during the Muslim conquest in 711 and the siege of the Church of the Captives, also located north of the riverbanks. According to an Islamic chronicle, the Jews in the area were integrated outside the city walls after it was captured by Mughīth al-Rūmī, one of the freedmen of Caliph al-Walīd i (705–715), who “gathered the Jews of Cordoba and annexed them to it ( faḍammahum ilayhā), chose (iḥtaṭṭ) the alcazaba for himself and the medina for his companions.”3 There is no evidence to support the argument that this quarter predated the Islamic conquest. From the time of al-Ḥakam i (796–822) and the notorious Shaqunda quarter revolt, there is documentary evidence of Bāb al-yahūd, the “Gate of the Jews” (later the Gate of the Ossuary, demolished in 1905).4 All the topographical data found in medieval sources about the gates and outlying areas near Cordoba suggest that, at least during the Umayyad period (756–1031), the Jewish quarter in Cordoba was located to the north of the banks of the Guadalquivir River, outside the city walls, surely after crossing the industrial area of Tejares (dār al-

1 This study was funded by erdf/Ministry of Science, Innovation and Universities–State Research Agency, Project pgc2018–094407-B-I00. 2 See the gates and neighborhoods listed by al-Maqqarī, Nafḥ al-ṭīb 465. 3 Ajbar Machmuâ, (Colección de tradiciones) Crónica anónima del siglo xi, dada á luz por primera vez 15 (f. 55v). 4 References to this gate and to the Quarter of the Gate of the Jews (rabaḍ bāb al-yahūd) can be found in Ibn Ḥayyan, Crónica de los emires Alhakam i y Abdarrahman ii entre los años 796 y 847 107v; al-Ḫushanī, Historia de los jueces de Córdoba 112–113; al-Muqaddasī, Kitāb Aḥsan al-taqāsīm fī maʿarifat al-aqalim 233; and al-Idrīsī, Description de l’Afrique et de l’Espagne.

© José Martín ez Delgado, 2023 | doi:10.1163/9789004524156_015

338

martínez delgado

ṭirāz)5 and Ollerías,6 and parallel to what was the Christian quarter until the great urban expansion of the 10th century.7 It must have been destroyed along with the rest of the outlying areas during the Berber revolt, probably during the siege that the city underwent between 1010 and 1013. In fact, during a later period, the name of the gate changed a number of times, most notably to Bāb al-hudā (Gate of the Straight Road of Salvation), possibly out of distaste for the word yahūd (Jew), or Bāb Ṭulayṭula/Liyūn, an indication of the Toledo-Leon route with which it met up.8 According to traditional sources, the Umayyad dynasty always maintained good relations with its protégés, specifically the Jews, and they are easily found in stories with a clear mythological and foundational nature. Such is the case of the Jew from Kairouan who announced the reign of the Umayyads in alAndalus and saved the life of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān i (756–788).9 They can also be found in more local legends, like the case of the faqīh from Cordoba, Ṭālūt, who had to hide in the home of his Jewish neighbor because of the repression generated by the revolt in the Shaqunda quarter. True or not, the story indicates that, in the time of Emir al-Ḥakam i (796–822), some Jews lived among the Muslims.10 During this same period, the Jewish musician (Abū Naṣr) Manṣūr (b. Abī l-Buhlūl) was sent to Algeciras to personally pick up Ziryāb; he managed to convince him to stay in place when, upon disembarking, he heard that Emir al-Ḥakam i had died.11 His successor, ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii (822–886), guaranteed Manṣūr’s presence in the royal palace and gave him a monthly salary of ten dinars.12 During the reign of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii, Paulo Albaro engaged in a 5

6

7

8 9 10 11 12

In September 972, Caliph al-Ḥakam ii visited the workshops of dār al-ṭirāz, reaching them through the cemetery (Umm Salama) of the Gate of the Jews (bāb al-yahūd, later the Gate of the Ossuary), see García Gómez, El califato de Córdoba en el «Muqtabis» de Ibn Hayyān 115–116. See also a synthesis of the data in Arjona Castro, La judería en la Córdoba del emirato y califato 101–107. For the verses that Ibn Shuhayd dedicated to this gate, see Hiedra Rodríguez, Ibn Shuhayd 167–179. The oldest known tombstone from Cordoba in Hebrew was found in this area, the epitaph of Yĕhudah bar Abūn (not Akūn) dated 845; see the report in Larrea Castillo and Hiedra Rodríguez, La lápida hebrea de época emiral del Zumbacón 327–342. See the study on the evolution of the area by Carmona Berenguer, Casa pórtico de época califal en el arrabal noroccidental de Córdoba 213–228; Camino Fuertes Santos and Hidalgo Puertas, La evolución urbana del arrabal noroccidental de Qurtuba 159–175; Castro del Río, La arquitectura doméstica en los arrabales de la Córdoba califal 241–281. See Zanón, Topografía de Córdoba Almohade a través de las fuentes árabes 28 and 42. Ajbar Machmuâ 54–55. On this story, see Molina, Ṭālūt y el judío 533–557; and Wasserstein, A man who never was 563–574. Ibn Ḥayyan, Crónica de los emires 149r. Ibn Ḥayyan, Crónica de los emires 153r.

the jews of cordoba

339

religious dispute with the Jewish proselyte Bodo Eleazar.13 Little more is found in the sources about the Jewish community in Cordoba until the proclamation of the Umayyad Caliphate (929). After the city became the cultural capital of the West, however, traces of a markedly intellectual Jewish culture appear. Medieval sources recognize that the Jewish community emerged intellectually under the mandate of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii (929–961) and through the figure of the naśīʾ Ḥasday b. Shaprūṭ (ca. 910–975)14 around 940 (4,700 years since the world’s creation),15 corresponding to the time of the transfer of the court to the palace and administrative complex of Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ. The caliph implemented a policy to establish facilities that would attract more than just scholars to settle in al-Andalus, and specifically in Cordoba. The scholars of the Jewish community first arrived from al-Andalus, invited by Ḥasday b. Shaprūṭ, as is the case of Mĕnaḥem ben Saruq (ca. 910–a. 958).16 Later they arrived from abroad, like Dunash ben Labraṭ (ca. 920– a. 958),17 who had been trained in the academies of Babylon with Săʿadyah al-Fayyūmī and successfully adapted Arabic metrics to the Hebrew language, and the renowned judge Mosheh ben Ḥanoḵ (died 965),18 possibly of Italian origin, carrier of the Palestinian tradition around whose arrival in Cordoba a legend grew.19 In only 20 years, these three men would construct the basis of the three great pillars of the Hebrew Andalusi legacy: lexicography, poetry, and law. The integration of the Jewish community into the government is seen in the appearance of the figure of the Jewish courtier. The first of these, recognized as a role model in both al-Andalus and Castile, is Ḥasday b. Shaprūṭ. Originally from Jaen, he moved to Cordoba, where he worked in medicine. At the palace, he was responsible for customs and official gifts.20 He later undertook a number of diplomatic missions, especially with Christians, which were always completed successfully. With the assistance of the monk Nicholas, he

13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20

The very short extant fragments were edited by Gil, Corpus scriptorum muzarabicorum. See Sáenz Badillos and Targarona Borrás, Diccionario de autores judíos, 50–51; Cano, Ḥasday ibn Shaprūṭ 367–369. Mosheh ibn ʿEzra, Kitāb al-Muḥāḍara wa-l-muḏākara f. 30. See Sáenz Badillos and Targarona Borrás, Diccionario 63–64; and Martínez Delgado, Ibn Sarūq, Menahem ben Jacob 541–544. See Sáenz Badillos and Targarona Borrás, Diccionario 44–45; and Martínez Delgado, Dunash ben Labraṭ ha-Levi 98–101. See Sáenz Badillos and Targarona Borrás, Diccionario 71; Arturo Prats, Moses ben Ḥanoḵ 479–480. See Ibn Daud, The book of tradition = Sefer ha-Qabbalah 63–66 of the translation and 46– 48 of the edition. See Martínez Delgado, La carta al rey de los Jazares 155–187.

340

martínez delgado

translated Dioscorides from Greek into Arabic via Latin. His family was fully integrated into both the community, founding a synagogue,21 and the social customs of the era; when his mother died, the purest Islamic laments were sung in Hebrew.22 Thanks to the cultural policies put in place by Ḥasday b. Shaprūṭ and supported by Caliph ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii, the Jewish community in Cordoba was able to emerge from anonymity and reliance on the rabbinic schools of Babylon and proclaim itself leader of the Jewish communities of the Arabic-speaking Mediterranean. Ḥasday b. Shaprūṭ does not appear to have lived beyond the reign of al-Ḥakam ii (961–975). He had at least two children: Abū l-Walīd Ḥasday b. Ḥasday, who settled in Lucena during the fitna (1009– 1031), and Abū ʿAmr Yūsuf b. Ḥasday, who made his home in Zaragoza after the fall of the caliphate.23 The integration of the community into the cultural environment of al-Andalus can be initially seen in the progress made in the field of philology, where the Andalusis were pioneers. During the reign of al-Ḥakam ii, studies of the Hebrew language reached its height throughout the entire Arabic-speaking Mediterranean.24 At the grassroots level, the adaptation of Arabic metrics and the composition of Andalusi Hebrew poetry is perhaps the clearest sign of the integration of the community into cultural and social life, being one of the features that defined this community beyond its borders and time.25 The first generation of medieval Hebrew philologists was represented by two central and opposing figures: Mĕnaḥem b. Saruq and Dunash b. Labraṭ. Both had disciples who are now known for their defenses (Tĕshubot) of their respective teachers.26 Mĕnaḥem b. Saruq’s disciples were Yiṣḥaq b. Jiqaṭela,27 Yiṣḥaq b. Qafrūn28 and Abū Zakariyāʾ Yaḥyā b. Dāʾūd al-Fāsī, known by his laqab or Romance alias, Ḥayyūj (read Ḥayyūcho), and as Yĕhudah b. Daud in 21 22 23 24 25 26

27 28

Jefim Schirmann, Ha-širah ha-ʿiḇrit bi-Sfarad u-bĕ-Provans 23, verses 279–280. Jefim Schirmann, Ha-širah ha-ʿiḇrit 23, verses 281–285. On the saga of this family, see Stroumsa, Between acculturation and conversion in Islamic Spain 9–36. See Sáenz Badillos and Targarona Borrás, Gramáticos hebreos de al-Andalus. See Martínez Delgado, Un manual judeo-árabe de métrica hebrea andalusí. Mĕnaḥem b. Saruq’s dictionary was edited by Sáenz-Badillos, Maḥberet Mĕnaḥem ben Saruq; Dunash b. Labraṭ’s criticism was edited by Sáenz-Badillos, Tešubot de Dunaš ben Labrat; the defense by the disciples of Mĕnaḥem b. Saruq was edited by Santiaga Benavente, Tešuḇot de los Discípulos de Měnaḥem; and that by the disciple of Dunash b. Labraṭ was edited by Encarnación Varela Moreno, Tešuḇot de Yehudi ben Šešet. See Sáenz-Badillos and Targarona, Diccionario 157–158; and Martínez Delgado, Ibn Chiquitilla, Isaac 469–470. For the author, see Sáenz-Badillos and Targarona, Dicionario, 56; and Sáenz-Badillos and Targarona, Gramáticos, 65–78.

the jews of cordoba

341

Hebrew sources,29 while the only disciple of Dunash b. Labraṭ whose name and works are known today is Yĕhudī b. Sheshet.30 These six linguists were all active towards the end of the reign of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii and at the beginning of that of al-Ḥakam ii. They wrote their works in Hebrew under the patronage of the naśīʾ Ḥasday b. Shaprūṭ, to whom they dedicated long introductory poems. The works written in Judeo-Arabic by Ḥayyūj, in contrast, did not include laudatory compositions or mention any patron. His works probably date back to 970–975, the time during which Ibn Shaprūṭ most likely died. It is known that Ḥasday b. Shaprūṭ personally commissioned Mĕnaḥem b. Saruq to write his Maḥberet,31 the first Hebrew-Hebrew dictionary in history. This impressive lexicon must have been finished around 958, the date of the criticism (Tĕšubot) he received from Dunaš b. Labraṭ.32 After that point, the two groups of disciples wrote their respective defenses, although the exact time period when this occurred is not known beyond the fact that it predated the death of Ḥasday b. Shaprūṭ, who was praised by all in the scanned panegyrics. These works provide evidence that, in Cordoba at that time, books essential to the study of biblical Hebrew already existed, such as: perfectly vocalized codices in Tiberian and Babylonian versions with, apparently, their corresponding Masorah; treatises of masoretic lists, like the renowned, important Sefer okhláh wĕ-okhláh;33 contemporary works, like those by Săʿadyah alFayyūmī, doubtless including his proto-dictionary known as Egron;34 and the then highly criticized Risālah by the Maghrebi comparatist Yĕhudah b. Quraysh.35 The sources provide evidence that Ḥasday b. Shaprūṭ spared no effort to obtain books and supply the Hebrew libraries in Cordoba with reference texts for the creation of local works.36 It is also feasible that the same messengers that he so insistently used to deliver his famous letter to Joseph, king of the Khazar Jews—either by taking advantage of official diplomatic pouches or

29

30 31 32

33 34 35 36

On this Romance alias, see Derenbourg and Hartwig Derenbourg, Kutub wa-rasāʾil li-Abī al-Walīd Marwān Ibn Janāḥ al-Qurṭūbī ix note 4. On Ḥayyūj, see Martínez Delgado, Yaḥyà Ibn Dāwūd. For the author, see Sáenz-Badillos and Targarona, Dicionario 142–143; Sáenz-Badillos and Targarona, Gramáticos 79–82; and Martínez Delgado, Ibn Sheshet, Yehudi 545–546. Schirmann, Ha-širah ha-ʿiḇrit i, 25, lines 315–323. The date is determined by an event described by Dunash b. Labraṭ in his panegyric to Ḥasday b. Shapruṭ: the arrival of a Christian embassy in 958 in Cordoba (ed. Sáenz-Badillos, Tešubot de Dunaš ben Labrat 2). Díaz Esteban, Sefer ʾOklah wĕ-ʾOklah. Allony, Haʾegron Kitāb ʾuṣūl al-shiʿir al-ʿibrānī by Rav Sĕʿadya Gaʾon. Becker, The Risāla of Judah ben Quraysh, a critical edition. Mosheh ibn ʿEzra, Kitāb al-muḥāḍara wal-muḏākara f. 30–30v.

342

martínez delgado

on their own initiative—also took it upon themselves to bring him works from the East and the Maghreb.37 Al-Ḥakam ii (961–976) not only continued these patronage policies but also expanded them, as he was, to some extent, both the driving force and the product of the education policies of his father. Throughout his reign, this caliph attracted men of learning and even increased the immigration of scholars from the East and the Maghreb who came to study with the celebrated Cordoban teachers of the first generation, as well as their disciples, one such case being Mosheh b. Ḥanoḵ.38 Caliph al-Ḥakam ii always showed the deepest respect towards these men of learning, including Jews, from whom he also commissioned work, as in the case of the Jewish astrologer al-Manṣūr b. Abraham.39 The Jews of al-Andalus enjoyed full legal autonomy. The most famous example is that of Yosef b. Abitur, a disciple of the judge Mosheh ben Ḥanoḵ and friend of al-Ḥakam, who, according to medieval sources, interpreted (piresh = fassara) the entire Talmud into Arabic for the caliph.40 Although he was a worthy heir to succeed Mosheh ben Ḥanoḵ as community judge, after the death of Ḥasday b. Shaprūṭ, the community preferred to offer the position to Ḥanoḵ b. Mosheh,41 wanting the son to inherit his father’s post. Thus, according to medieval sources, Jews presented themselves one day in Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ to inform the caliph, who, in a show of friendship, confessed to Yosef b. Abitur that “if the Muslims despised me as they do the Jews I would flee, so flee,”42 demonstrating a deep respect for the internal issues of the community in which he would not interfere, limiting himself to processing the proposed appointments. This is confirmed by the fact that Caliph al-Ḥakam ratified certain proposals, such as the permission of qasāma issued for the Jew al-Ḥajjāj b. al-Mutawakkil that allowed him to control all of the inheritance cases in Lucena.43 In fact, with regard to the Jews, the Pact of ʿUmar44 was respected during the reign of the Umayyad dynasty, as Jews did not hold important positions.

37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44

On the different attempts to get this famous missive into the hands of King Joseph, see Martínez Delgado, La carta al rey de los Jazares. Ibn Daud The book of tradition, 66 of the translation and 48 of the edition. See Ashtor, The Jews of Moslem Spain n. 9. On the author, see Targarona Borrás, Breves notas sobre Yosef ibn Abitur 53–85; on this supposed translation, see Ashtor, The Jews of Moslem Spain 364–365, n. 12. Sáenz-Badillos and Targarona, Diccionario 47–48; Cano, Ḥanoḵ ben Moses 358. Ibn Daud, Sefer ha-Qabbalah 49 of the edition. See García Gómez, Anales palatinos 189. The Pact of ʿUmar regulates rights and restrictions for non-Muslims; on this topic see Cohen, What was the pact of ʿUmar? 100–157.

the jews of cordoba

343

However, it is easy to detect some licenses by reading the sources. Thus, when Mosheh b. Ḥanoḵ was appointed judge of the Jews of Cordoba, he received expensive clothes and a chariot (malbushim yĕqarim u-merkaḇ).45 When the argument about his succession exploded, 700 Jews, supporters of his son, dressed as kings, wearing (ḥabushim should perhaps be read “leaders with” following Isaiah 3:7 or Job 34:17) caps (migbaʿot = qalansuwa) like Arab kings and riding 700 chariots, spent the day in Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, making it clear to the caliph that they did not want Ibn Abitur to be judge.46 It is quite likely that, during the reign of this caliph, Ḥayyūj had already written his greatest work establishing the principles of Hebrew philology that remain valid to this day and that, therefore, the Andalusi understanding of biblical Hebrew had become dominant across the Mediterranean. The great libraries began to appear, with the caliph’s containing an enormous wealth of knowledge.47 Within the Jewish community, the library of the Banū Naghrela family was particularly notable,48 and before he made his home in Granada, Shĕmuʾel b. Naghrela (993–1055) admitted that he possessed an autograph manuscript of Ḥayyūj’s famous treaty.49 In his early works (around 1013), the noted doctor and philologist Abū l-Walīd Marwān b. Janāḥ (ca. 970–a. 1038) also acknowledged that he had used Levantine codices, which must have reached Cordoba during the reign of al-Ḥakam ii, to contrast the different biblical readings.50 The last great caliph of Umayyad Cordoba, Hisham ii (976–1009), inherited the throne at a very young age and was caliph in name only while Almanzor (978–1002), the founder of the ʻāmirī dynasty, was the de facto ruler. Almanzor was not as affable as previous rulers towards the Jews, and he was more concerned with state taxation than with cultural development, so he founded a new administrative and palace complex known as Madīnat al-Zāhiraʾ (979–1009) and appointed a silk trader, Yaʿăqob b. Jaw, naśīʾ.51 After some time, Yaʿăqob b. Jaw was jailed in the prison of Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, the complex where Caliph Hishām ii was held. Apparently, thanks to the Umayyad’s policy of favouritism towards the Jews, Yaʿăqob b. Jaw was freed from prison as soon as 45 46 47 48

49 50 51

Ibn Daud, Sefer ha-Qabbalah 49 of the edition. Ibn Daud, Sefer ha-Qabbalah 49 of the edition. On this royal library see Wasserstein, The library of al-Ḥakam ii al-Mustanṣir 99–105. Ibn Daud, Sefer ha-Qabbalah claims that this library was plundered after the massacre of the Jews in Granada in 1066 (p. 57 of the edition) and that Yiṣḥaq b. Balya (1035–1094) tried to reassemble Ibn Naghrela’s library in Seville (pp. 59–60 of the edition). As he claims in Rasāʾil al-rifāq (ed. Derenbourg and Derenbourg, Kutub wa-rasāʾil lxiii). Martínez Delgado, Kitāb al-mustalḥaq by Ibn Ǧanāḥ of Cordoba 111 and 206 of the edition and 286 and 347 of the translation. Ibn Daud, Sefer ha-Qabbalah 50–51 of the edition.

344

martínez delgado

Caliph Hishām ii realized that he was there.52 According to medieval sources, the relationship between Almanzor and the Jews had very few positive points, and indeed, Ibn ʿIḏārī relates “that one of Almanzor’s viziers saw in his dreams a Jew walking the streets of al-Zāhira with some knapsacks on his shoulder, yelling jarrubish, jarrubish (‘scratch, scratch’); he asked a [dream] interpreter about it, who notified him of the proximity of his ruin.”53 One example of social integration into the famous circle of druggists and botanists from Cordoba is Ibn Janāḥ who, during the reign of Hishām ii, had access to one of the private gardens at the residence of the vizier Ibn Shuhayd, where he was able to sight the plant known as al-māsh, which could not be found in any other corner of Cordoba. In a clear show of kindness, Ibn Shuhayd informed him that Ibn Ḥasday, the Jew, had brought it from the East.54 This must have been the famous vizier and governor of Almanzor (978–1009), Abū Marwān (grandson) b. Shuhayd (935–1003) and father of the famous poet Abū ʿĀmir b. Shuhayd (992–1035); Ibn Ḥasday must have been one of the sons of Ibn Shapruṭ, either Abū l-Walīd Ḥasday or Abū ʿAmr Yūsuf. Ibn Janāḥ was also integrated into the academic world. In Cordoba he specialized in pharmacopoeia with the famous teacher Sulaymān b. Juljul, personal physician to Caliph Hishām ii, who died around the year 994/5. Ibn Janāḥ read his teacher’s work on medicines with him.55 During his regency, Almanzor was notable for repressing philosophy, logic, and astrology, but he also sought to emulate the caliphs.56 For example, he applied policies to stimulate artistic creation, specifically poetry, even creating a dīwān or “ministry of poets,” and it was, indeed, during this time that Cordoba became home to a distinguished group of Hebrew poets that included haKohen b. al-Muḍarram,57 Abū Zakariyāʾ Yaḥyā b. Ḥanīghā,58 Yosef b. Abitur,59 and the extremely important Yiṣḥaq b. Khalfūn.60

52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60

Ibn Dawud, Sefer ha-Qabbalah 52 of the edition. For the Banū Jaw family, see Ashtor, The Jews of Moslem Spain 376–377. Maíllo Salgado, La caída del Califato de Córdoba 67. As for jarrubish, see Corriente, A Dictionary of Andalusi Arabic 152. Bos et al., Marwān ibn Janāḥ i, 717. Bos et al., Marwān ibn Janāḥ ii, 967. ʿĪsā, Tārīḫ al-taʿlīm fī l-Andalus 143–153. Ibn ʿEzra, Kitāb al-Muḥāḍara wal-muḏākara f. 31r. Ibn ʿEzra, Kitāb al-Muḥāḍara wal-muḏākara f. 31r; Schirmann, The history of Hebrew poetry in Muslim Spain 145–146. Targarona Borrás, Breves notas sobre Yosef ibn Abitur; Schirmann, The history of Hebrew poetry 150–173. Cano, Yiṣḥaq ibn Jalfun. Poeta cortesano cordobés 173–182.

the jews of cordoba

345

Almanzor continued to encourage immigration from the East, and it is quite likely that the arrival of his Berber mercenaries enticed more Maghrebi Jews to settle in Cordoba.61 Of all of his patronage policies, however, perhaps the most outstanding was the creation of a weekly literary gathering where he examined the members.62 His son, al-Muẓaffar (1002–1009), continued these policies for the most part.63 Upon his death, his brother, ʿAbd al-Raḥmān Sanchuelo (ca. 980–1009), did not know how to hold onto the reins of state and led the city into a civil war that lasted for years.64 This conflict, known by the Andalusis as al-fitna al-barbariyya, affected the entire Cordoba population equally, regardless of class or social status, and the Jews suffered like the other citizens. The degree of involvement of the lower strata of Jewish society in the assault on the citadel by the mob led by the Umayyad Muḥammad ii al-Mahdī in 1009 is not known. This conflict struck a chord in other Jewish communities in the rest of the Arab world, reflected in a battered letter from 1012 held in the Cairo Genizah65 that apparently was sent by Musā b. al-Majjānī, a permanent resident of Fustat, to the Jewish merchant Abū l-Faraj Yosef b. Yaʿăqob [b. ʿAwkal] describing the intense suffering of the people of Cordoba and the destruction caused by the confrontation. The letter mentions the Slavs who took control of the city in the name of Caliph Hishām ii and explicitly says that, despite the circumstances, the inhabitants of Cordoba preferred to die than to submit to Berber domination. In any case, Jews found themselves on the frontlines of the conflict, either passively, as in the case of the cadaver of a Jew who—because of his physical resemblance to Caliph Hishām ii—was displayed in public by Muḥammad ii al-Mahdī in 1009 to attest to the death of the sovereign,66 or actively, as in the case of a Jewish “vizier to the Franks” who died in combat at the hands of the Berbers who found 30,000 dinars in his tent.67 In April 1013, the final battle between the people of Cordoba and the Berbers took place and the latter side won.68 Later sources, both Islamic and Jewish, maintain that the population fled (haraba katīr minhum, according to Ibn 61 62 63 64

65 66 67 68

See Ashtor, The Jews of Moslem Spain i, 381–382. ʿĪsā, Tārīḫ al-ta ʿlīm fī l-Andalus 148. See Ashtor, The Jews of Moslem Spain ii, 8, n. 12. Maíllo Salgado, La caída del Califato de Córdoba; for a detailed description of the events leading up to this situation, see Rosado Llamas, La dinastía hammudí y el califato en el siglo xi 57–98. T-S 12.218. See the edition by Gil, In the kingdom of Ishmael 328–331. Maíllo Salgado, La caída del Califato de Córdoba 76. Maíllo Salgado, La caída del Califato de Córdoba 91. Maíllo Salgado, La caída del Califato de Córdoba 104.

346

martínez delgado

ʿIdhārī,69 or barḥu, according to Abraham ben Daud70). However, eyewitnesses to the event preferred to speak of exile; such is the case of Ibn Ḥazm who even dates his departure to 19 July 1013 and uses the word ujlīnā to refer to his exile,71 the same expression used by Ibn Janāḥ ( jalāʾ).72 Ibn Janāḥ also seems to confirm that the exile was programed and the people distributed by region when he says, “when God decreed our exile from Cordoba to Zaragoza due to the uprisings (al-fitna) that broke out there, the one who had asked me was in the group of exiles to Zaragoza.”73 The distributions to which Abraham b. Daud alludes in his Sefer ha-Qabbalah should also be understood in the same way: “some went to Zaragoza, where their descendants remain until today, while others went to Toledo, where their descendants have retained their identity until the present. On the other hand, this R. Samuel [ha-Nagid], fled to Malaga […].”74 The havoc of the war and the economic collapse of the capital of the caliphate had repercussions for the community’s tangible heritage, as in the case of the synagogue furnishings where, according to sources, the judge Ḥanoḵ b. Mosheh had a serious accident when a damaged minbar broke, unable to support the weight of three adults on Simḥat Torah 4775 (September 1014); the judge broke his hip and died a few days later.75 The Jewish community would not recover until the second quarter of the 11th century, although almost all of the Jews born in Cordoba were forced to move to other cities, where they engaged in intellectual activities, promoting and enriching the Andalusi Jewish community in general. Of those who remained in the city, Isaac b. Barukh b. Albalia (1035–1094) was the most important of the rabbinic scholars during the first Taifa period.76

69 70 71 72

73 74 75 76

Lévi-Provençal, al-Bayān al mugrib 115. Ibn Daud, Sefer ha-Qabbalah 22 of the translation and 53–54 of the edition. Pétrof, Abû-Muhammed-Alî-ibn-Hazm 124. Martínez Delgado, Kitāb al-mustalḥaq by Ibn Ǧanāḥ of Cordoba 59 of the edition and 251 of the translation. The historian Dozy appears to take this information from Ibn Hazm when he says: “Quant aux Berbères, ils s’établirent d’abord à Secunda; mais trois mois après, tous les habitants de Cordoue, à l’exception de ceux qui demeuraient dans le faubourg oriental et dans le quartier qui s’appelait la cité, furent frappés d’une sentence d’exil, et leurs biens furent confisqués au profit des vainqueurs, qui occupèrent alors les maisons qui avaient échappé à l’incendie”; Dozy, Histoire des Musulmans d’Espagne 310–311. Miguel Asín Palacios follows this, Abenházam de Córdoba 72–73. Derenbourg, Livre des parterres fleuris 304. Ibn Daud, Sefer ha-Qabbalah 72 of the translation and 53–54 of the edition. Ibn Daud, Sefer ha-Qabbalah 53. It does not appear that the furnishings were replaced, due to a strict application of the Pact of ʿUmar. Sáenz Badillos and Targarona, Diccionario 150–152.

the jews of cordoba

347

In the 12th century, one of the most important men of learning was Abū ʿAmr Yosef b. Jacob b. Sahl (m. 1124), a disciple of Isaac b. Ghiyyaṯ of Lucena (1038– 1089) appointed community dayyan (judge) in 1113, a position he held until his death in 1123. Between 1139 and 1149, this position was filled by Abū ʿAmr Yosef b. Jacob b. Saddiq (1075–1149), a poet and Talmudic jurisconsult. At the beginning of this conflict-ridden century, messianic expectations were aroused by the appearance of an Andalusi pseudo-messiah. As this movement grew in importance, the head of the community was forced to put an end to it. It was in this environment that Maimonides (1138) was born, but he left Cordoba after the arrival of the Almohads in 1147, an event that resulted in the almost complete disappearance of the community. The location of the Jewish quarter at this time appears to coincide with the current neighborhood in the heart of the medina and must date back to at least the Almohad era, according to the first Christian-era documents.77 Eliyahu Ashtor argues that the current location of the Jewish quarter is the original one and that the quarter that lay to the north during the caliphate era was the result of 10th-century urban expansion near the so-called Gate of the Jews (Gate of the Ossuary), beyond the Umm Salama cemetery towards the mountains.78 After the Christian conquest in 1236, the Cordoba ecclesiastic authorities in the city criticized the new synagogue, still under construction, for being too tall and asked the bishop of Cordoba to begin proceedings to halt this offence against Christianity; Pope Innocent iv was informed of the affair in 1250. At the end of the century, the authorities decided that the dayyan could only continue in that position for one year. The sole synagogue that remains today is the one built by Isaac Moheb b. Efraim in 1315 in the Mudejar style. An adjacent area, which was demolished in the 1980s, probably served as a school or mikveh, while the vestibule of the small prayer room was used as a “house of justice.” The synagogue walls, including the women’s gallery, were embellished with citations from the Book of Psalms. The synagogue was declared a national monument in 1885.79 The sources provide very little information about Jewish primary schools from this period, which children attended from the age of six to thirteen or fourteen to learn the revealed text (the Hebrew Bible, but also the Quran for some children), reading and writing (reading Hebrew was a requirement for any synagogue service), along with some other subjects, either at home or at school, or even in a patio, depending on the family’s financial situation. Further and fuller information from the sources indicates that secondary instruction provided a 77 78 79

See González, Reinado y diplomas de Fernando iii i, 438; and iii, 233. Ashtor, The Jews of Moslem Spain i, 294–299. See Cantera Burgos, Sinagogas españolas.

348

martínez delgado

solid education and access to a job or even, in some cases, a third phase of specialization. This education began at 14 and could continue for a decade. The lectures were public, organized by a teacher around whom a group formed that would take his name. This phase was based on memorization via reading (iqrāʾ) and dictation (imlāʾ).80 No complete list exists of the Jewish judges in Cordoba, or even approximate data on the number of Jews living there during the different political stages of al-Andalus; neither is there much information on jobs or the social structure. Medieval sources only provide data for the upper classes. In any event, the Jews in the city helped to restore its economy after the conquest of Ferdinand iii of Castile (1201–1252) at the end of June 1236. Shortly thereafter, however, antiJewish restrictions were imposed in several areas, including Castile. Although smaller than the Toledo community, the Cordoba community at this time continued to be important. The Jews in the city stood out in several professions, but their great speciality was the production and commercialization of textiles. During the persecutions of 1391, the Jewish community was put under serious pressure, with most of its members killed. As the primary residence of the Catholic monarchs during the battle with Granada, Cordoba witnessed a series of anti-Jewish measures that were issued in late 1478. Five years later, the Jews were pressurized to leave Andalusia, and except for a brief resurgence in 1485, the Jewish community in Cordoba ceased to exist before 1492. The conversos who remained in the city were harshly persecuted throughout the century. In fact, the attacks, which were especially violent between 1473 and 1474, led many conversos to take refuge in the Sierra Morena Mountains. So important was the Jewish community of Cordoba throughout history that the conversos were never able to detach themselves socially from Judaism; if a converso had been educated or studied in Cordoba, it was considered sufficient evidence for a court to recognize the person as a Jew. The Inquisition, which was established in Cordoba in 1482, was responsible for a large area of Andalusia, including Granada, between 1492 and 1526. Many conversos were martyred in the city in the 1480s. Diego Rodríguez Lucero (1440–1508), the Cordoban inquisitor between 1499 and 1506, and quite committed to his job, has passed into history as one of the cruellest figures in the city. The Inquisition stayed active in Cordoba until the 18th century.81 It was not until the 20th century, on the 800th anniversary of the birth of Maimonides, that Cordoba officially commemorated this incredibly important 80 81

ʿĪsā, Tārīḫ al-taʿlīm fī l-Andalus 347–349. Abraham Athias, father of the famous Dutch printer J. Athias, was martyred in Cordoba in 1665.

the jews of cordoba

349

multifaceted writer with numerous tributes. However, although cultural events continue to be organized today, there is still no serious plan in place to address the Jewish legacy at this time.

Bibliography Abraham ibn Daud The Book of Tradition = Sefer ha-Qabbalah; translated from Hebrew by Gerson D. Cohen, Philadelphia 2010. Ajbar Machmuâ, (Colección de tradiciones) Crónica anónima del siglo xi, dada á luz por primera vez. Traducida y anotada por don Emilio Lafuente y Alcántara, Madrid 1867. al-Ḫušanī, Historia de los jueces de Córdoba, texto árabe y traducción española por Julián Ribera, Madrid 1914. al-Idrīsī, Description de l’Afrique et de l’Espagne, publiée avec una traduction par R. Dozy et M.J. de Goeje, Leiden 1866. al-Maqqarī, Nafḥ al-ṭīb. Edition by Iḥsān ʿAbbās, Beirut 1968. al-Muqaddasī, Kitāb aḥsan al-taqāsīm fī maʿarifat al-aqalim, edición de M.J. de Goeje, Leiden 19062. Allony, Nehemiah, Ha’egron Kitāb uṣūl al-shiʿir al-ʿibrānī by Rav Sĕʿadya Ga’on, Critical Edition with Introduction and Commentary, Jerusalem 1969. Arjona Castro, Antonio, “La judería en la Córdoba del emirato y califato”, Anaquel de Estudios Árabes 11 (2000), pp. 101–107. Ashtor, Eliyahu, The Jews of Moslem Spain, Philadelphia 1992. Asín Palacios, Miguel, Abenházam de Córdoba y su Historia crítica de las ideas religiosas, Madrid 1984. Becker, Dan, The Risāla of Judah ben Quraysh, a Critical Edition, Tel Aviv 1984. Benavente Robles, Santiaga, Tešuḇot de los Discípulos de Měnaḥem contra Dunaš ben Labraṭ. Edición del texto y traducción castellana, Granada 1986. Bos Gerrit, Käs, Fabian, Lübke, Mailyn and Mensching, Guido, Marwān ibn Janāḥ, On the nomenclature of medicinal drugs (Kitāb al-Talkhīṣ) (2 vols) Edition, Translation and Commentary, with Special Reference to the Ibero-Romance Terminology, Leiden-Boston 2020. Cano, Mª José, Yiṣḥaq ibn Jalfun. Poeta cortesano cordobés, Córdoba 1988. Cano, María José, “Ḥanoḵ ben Moses”, Encyclopedia of Jews in the Islamic World, Leiden 2010, Vol. ii, p. 358. Cano, Mª José, “Ḥasday ibn Shaprūṭ”, Encyclopedia of Jews in the Islamic World, Leiden 2010, Vol. ii, pp. 367–369. Cantera Burgos, Francisco, Sinagogas españolas: con especial estudio de la Córdoba y la Toledana de El Tránsito, Madrid: Instituto Benito Arias Montano 1984. Castro del Río, Elena, “La arquitectura doméstica en los arrabales de la Córdoba cali-

350

martínez delgado

fal: la zona arqueológica de Cercadilla”, Anales de Arqueología Cordobesa 12 (2011), pp. 241–281. Carmona Berenguer, Silvia, “Casa pórtico de época califal en el arrabal noroccidental de Córdoba”, Anales de Arqueología Cordobesa 8 (1997), pp. 213–228. Cohen, Mark R., “What was the Pact of ʿUmar? A Literary-Historical Study”, Jerusalem Studies in Arabic and Islam 23 (1999), pp. 100–157. Corriente, Federico, A Dictionary of Andalusi Arabic, Leiden-New York-Köln 1997. Derenbourg, Joseph, Livre des parterres fleuris; grammaire hébraïque en arabe d’Abou ʾl-Walid Merwan ibn Djanah de Cordoue, Paris 1886. Derenbourg, Joseph and Derenbourg, Hartwig, Kutub wa-rasāʾil li-Abī al-Walīd Marwān Ibn Janāḥ al-Qurṭūbī, Opuscules et traités de Abou ʿl-Wâlid Merwân Ibn Djanâh (Rabbi Jônâh) de Cordóba, Paris: Imprimerie Nationale 1880. Díaz Esteban, Fernando, Sefer ʾOklah wĕ-ʾOklah, Madrid 1975. Dozy, Reinhart, Histoire des Musulmans d’Espagne: jusqu’à la conquête de l’Andalousie par les Almoravides (711–1110). Tome troisième: Le Califat, Leiden 1861. Fuertes Santos, Mª del Camino and Hidalgo Puertas, Rafael, “La evolución urbana del arrabal noroccidental de Qurtuba. El yacimiento de Cercadilla”, Anales de Arqueología Cordobesa 12 (2011), pp. 159–175. García Gómez, Emilio, El califato de Córdoba en el “Muqtabis” de Ibn Hayyān, Anales palatinos del califa de Córdoba al-Ḥakam ii, por ʿĪsā ibn Ahmad al-Rāzī (306–364 H. = 971–975 J.C.), Madrid 1967. Gil, Juan, Corpus scriptorum muzarabicorum, Madrid 1973. Gil, Moshe, In the Kingdom of Ishmael (in Hebrew), Jerusalem 1997. González, Julio, Reinado y diplomas de Fernando iii, Córdoba 1986. Hiedra Rodríguez, Enrique, “Ibn Shuhayd on Joseph; A Muslim Poet at the Gate of the Jews”, en Charles Burnett & Pedro Mantas (eds.), Mapping Knowledge. CrossPollination in Late Antiquity and Middle Ages, Córdoba 2014, pp. 167–179. Ibn Ḥayyan, Crónica de los emires Alhakam i y Abdarrahman ii entre los años 796 y 847 (Almuqtabis ii-1); traducción, notas e índices de Maḥmūd ʿAlī Makkī y Federico Corriente, Zaragoza 2001. ʿĪsā, ʿAbd al-Ḥamīd, Tārīḫ al-taʿlīm fī l-Andalus, Cairo 1982. Larrea Castillo, Isabel and Hiedra Rodríguez, Enrique, “La lápida hebrea de época emiral del Zumbacón. Apuntes sobre arqueología funeraria judía en Córdoba”, Anejos de Anales de Arqueología Cordobesa 2 (2009), pp. 327–342. Lévi-Provençal, Evariste, al-Bayān al mugrib fī aḫbār mulūk al-Andalus wa-al-Maghrib. Tome troisième, Histoire de l’Espagne musulmane au xième siècle. Texte arabe publié pour la première fois d’après un manuscrit de Fès, Texte et indices, Paris 1930. Maíllo Salgado, Felipe, La caída del Califato de Córdoba y los reyes de taifas: (al-Bayān al-Mugrib) Ibn ʿIḏārī; estudio, traducción y notas, Salamanca 1993.

the jews of cordoba

351

Martínez Delgado, José, Yaḥyà Ibn Dāwūd: El Libro de Ḥayyūŷ (Versión original árabe siglo x). Introducción y Traducción, Granada 2004. Martínez Delgado, José, “Dunash ben Labraṭ ha-Levi”, Encyclopedia of Jews in the Islamic World, Leiden 2010, Vol. ii, pp. 98–101. Martínez Delgado, José, “Ibn Chiquitilla, Isaac”, Encyclopedia of Jews in the Islamic World, Leiden 2010, Vol. ii, pp. 469–470. Martínez Delgado, José, “Ibn Sarūq, Menahem ben Jacob”, Encyclopedia of Jews in the Islamic World, Leiden 2010, Vol. ii, pp. 541–544. Martínez Delgado, José, “Ibn Sheshet, Yehudi”, Encyclopedia of Jews in the Islamic World, Leiden 2010, Vol. ii, pp. 545–546. Martínez Delgado, José, “La carta al rey de los Jazares”, en M.J. Cano Pérez y T.M. García Arévalo, Oriente desde Occidente. Los escritos de viajes judíos, cristianos y musulmanes sobre Siria-Palestina (ss. xii–xvii), Granada 2012, vol. i, pp. 155–187. Martínez Delgado, José, Un manual judeo-árabe de métrica hebrea andalusí (Kitāb ʿarūḍ al-šiʿr al-ʿibrī) de la Genizah de el Cairo. Fragmentos de las colecciones Firkovich y Taylor-Schechter. Edición diplomática, traducción y estudio, Córdoba 2017. Martínez Delgado, José, Kitāb al-mustalḥaq by Ibn Ǧanāḥ of Cordoba: A Critical Edition, with an English Translation, Based on All the Known Judaeo-Arabic Manuscripts. Cambridge Genizah Studies Series, Volume 11, Leiden-Boston: Brill 2020. Molina, Luis, “Ṭālūt y el judío. Análisis de la evolución historiográfica de un relato”, AlQanṭara 32.2 (2011), pp. 533–557. Mošeh ibn ‘Ezra, Kitāb al-muḥāḍara wa-l-muḏākara. Ed. Montserrat Abumalham Mas, Madrid 1986. Pétrof, Dimitri K., Abû-Muhammed-Alî-ibn-Hazm al-Andalusi, Ṭauḳ-al-ḥamâma, Leiden 1914. Prats, Arturo, “Moses ben Ḥanoḵ”, Encyclopedia of Jews in the Islamic World, Leiden 2010, Vol. iii, pp. 479–480. Rosado Llamas, Mª Dolores, La dinastía hammudí y el califato en el siglo xi, Málaga 2008. Sáenz-Badillos, Ángel, Tešubot de Dunaš ben Labrat. Edición crítica y traducción Española, Granada 1980. Sáenz-Badillos, Ángel, Maḥberet Mĕnaḥem ben Saruq, Granada 1986. Sáenz Badillos, Ángel and Targarona Borrás, Judit, Gramáticos hebreos de al-Andalus (siglos x–xii). Filología y Biblia, Córdoba 1986. Sáenz Badillos, Angel and Targarona Borrás, Judit, Diccionario de autores judíos: Sefarad, siglos x–xv, Córdoba 1988. Schirmann, Jeffim, Ha-širah ha-ʿiḇrit bi-Sfarad u-bĕ-Provans, Jerusalem 1954–1959. Schirmann, Jefim, The History of Hebrew Poetry in Muslim Spain, Edited, Supplemented and Annotated by Ezra Fleischer (in Hebrew), Jerusalem 1995. Stroumsa, Sara, “Between Acculturation and Conversion in Islamic Spain the Case of

352

martínez delgado

the Banū Ḥasday”, Mediterranea. International journal for the transfer of knowledge 1 (2016), pp. 9–36. Targarona Borrás, Judit, “Breves notas sobre Yosef ibn Abitur”, Miscelánea de Estudios Árabes y Hebraicos 31.2 (1986), pp. 53–85. Varela Moreno, Mª Encarnación, Tešuḇot de Yehudi ben Šešet. Edición, traducción y comentario, Granada 1981. Wasserstein, David, “The Library of al-Ḥakam ii al-Mustanṣir and The Culture of Islamic Spain”, Manuscript of the Middle East 5 (1990–1991), pp. 99–105. Wasserstein, David, “A Man Who Never Was: Ṭālūt and The Jew Again”, Al-Qanṭara 36.2 (2015), pp. 563–574. Zanón, Jesús, Topografía de Córdoba Almohade a través de las fuentes árabes, Madrid 1989.

chapter 15

The Arabicized Christians in Cordoba: Social Context and Literary Production Juan Pedro Monferrer-Sala

1

Mapping a Community1

Mozarabic2 studies owe a great deal to Simonet’s seminal work,3 a work in no way outshone by that of his epigone De las Cajigas,4 whose “nationalistic” approach failed to distort Simonet’s ideological perspective, undermined by a vindication of the Hispano-Roman-Visigothic national spirit that informed his oeuvre.5 These authors—each in their own way—and later scholars6 have portrayed the Christian communities of al-Andalus as a largely monolithic group, and therefore as almost entirely Catholic, save for the so-called “heresies,” which have not always been accorded the social importance they deserve. Yet Andalusi Christianity involved an intriguingly complex doctrinal diversity; Catholic communities coexisted, albeit with a certain divergence, alongside other Christian groups within the Arab-Islamic power structure7 which controlled the Catholic Church by overseeing the appointment of bishops and metropolitans. With the arrival of Arab-Islamic contingents, the Catholic Church lost its primacy, although this did not undermine its internal unity. But the new situation favored the persistence of old heterodoxies and the emergence of new ones (Sabellianism, Adoptionism, Cassianism, etc.), as well as the relaxation

1 This study is part of the research project pgc2018–096807-B-I00: “Biblical and Patristic Graeco-Arabic and Latin Manuscripts,” granted by the Spanish Ministry of Science, Innovation and Universities. 2 On this label, see Menéndez Pidal, Orígenes 415, n. 1; Hitchcock, Mozarabs; and Corriente, Tres mitos. 3 Simonet, Historia de los mozárabes. On the names used for Christians in Arabic sources, see Lapiedra, Cómo los musulmanes. 4 De las Cajigas, Los mozárabes. 5 Cf. Olstein, The Mozarabs of Toledo 151–157; Acién Almansa, Consideraciones; MonferrerSala, Los cristianos de al-Andalus 256–259. 6 García Moreno, Monjes y profecías 93. 7 Manzano Moreno, Épocas medievales. 2, 36–39.

© Juan Pedro Monferrer-Sala, 2023 | doi:10.1163/9789004524156_016

354

monferrer-sala

of certain customs on the part of the clergy (concubinage was widespread), ritual deviations such as those advocated by Cunierico—who enjoyed strong support in the diocese of Cordoba—and theological misconduct of the sort committed by Migetius, who had left the Catholic Church and propounded his own doctrine with considerable energy.8 The situation within Catholicism in the Iberian Peninsula had become so unruly that in 777 ce Pope Hadrian i sent his legate, Bishop Egila, to Baetica with a view to restoring order.9 Bishop Egila and Juan, an assistant presbyter who accompanied him on this mission, found themselves confronted by all manner of departures from orthodoxy: mixed marriages, particularly with Arians but also with Jews and Muslims, the practice of divorce, refusal to celebrate Easter in the manner prescribed by the Council of Nicea (325 ce), and refusal to fast on Saturdays, not to mention a diversity of beliefs regarding the dogma of predestination. One of the major issues was the impact of the Adoptionist doctrine propounded by Elipandus of Toledo on the Christians of al-Andalus,10 and particularly on Christians in Cordoba, which may have been the starting point for the spread of that particular heresy.11 But Egila’s activities, if anything, proved worse than ineffectual: he succumbed to these heretical practices and became a disciple of Migetius.12 We learn something of this internal rift among Christian groupings in Cordoba in the mid-9th century from Alvarus of Cordoba who, in a letter to Abbot Esperaindeo, complained bitterly about the damage it was causing among ignorant folk (inperitos): Et quia spiritalem te recolo patrem, ideo spiritalem inpetro opem, scilicet quia hereses illa, quam ⟨m⟩ea nobis iam dudum insinuauit inertja, Dei lacerat eclesiam et per assertjonem letalem caterbam post se trayt ad mortem […] Ob huius rei causam uestra flagitamus ausilia et subsidii adminicula, qualiter hereseorum nebulosa et infanda potentja celitus pereat et spone Xp̅ i clarissima docma per uos fulgens eniteat. Eorum uero oppositjones ille sunt que uobis iam a me intimate sunt.13

8 9 10 11 12 13

Cf. Rivera Recio, El adopcionismo 34–37, 45–46. Cf. Jaffé, Bibliotheca rerum germanicarum iv, 78–79. Gil, Las tensiones. Sáinz de Robles, Elipando y San Beato 54. Flórez, España sagrada v, 527–536 (appendix x), cf. vol. xiii, 163ff. Simonet, Historia de los mozárabes 262–265. Albari epistvla vii 1.15–23, in Corpvs scriptorvm mvzarabicorvm i, 202.

the arabicized christians in cordoba

355

And because I honor you as spiritual father, I beg for your spiritual assistance, for that heresy which some time ago I clumsily insinuated to you is lacerating the Church of God, and its lethal claims drag the people in its wake to their death […] For that reason we earnestly beg for your assistance and your aid, that the nebulous and unspeakable power of heresies may perish through the action of heaven, and that the flawless light of the doctrine of the bride of Christ may shine brightly in you. These are the objections that I have already transmitted to you. It is difficult to identify all the heresies that, in theological matters (negation of the Trinity and of the divinity of Christ), beguiled the Catholic Church in Cordoba in the mid-9th century. One of the most violent heretics was undoubtedly Bishop Hostegesis of Malaga, who—along with other heretics—introduced a series of anthropomorphist doctrines into the Church in Cordoba, attributing them to Abbot Samson, for whom he caused untold problems.14 But Hostegesis was not acting alone; he was abetted in his dealings by his maternal uncle Samuel who, having been deposed as Bishop of Iliberis (Granada), left for Cordoba, where he denied Christ, shaved his head, and converted to Islam.15 For the urban Visigothic and Hispano-Roman populations, two of the Christian groups in al-Andalus, the progressive Arabization of the Andalusi state— and, albeit in a more limited manner, beyond its borders16—was a process that advanced at different speeds in different sectors of society. Even so, the new circumstances entailed a new sociolinguistic situation for the occupied population: the emergence of a new lingua franca in the educated urban milieu (i.e., among intellectuals in several non-Islamic communities). One proof of this is the involvement of Christian lineages in the state apparatus, and more specifically in the administration sector (among them the Banū l-Qasī and the Banū l-Ṭawīl),17 although Christians were by no means restricted to administrative duties and from the outset found work in ecclesiastical circles. In that respect, the famous cri de cœur voiced by Albarus cordubensis in his Indiculus luminosus should be understood not as a complaint regarding Christians’ use of Arabic when composing their works but rather as a critique of the poor knowledge of Latin shown by contemporary Christians and a rueful acknowledgement

14 15 16 17

Flórez, España sagrada xi, 306–318; Coope, The martyrs of Córdoba 57–60. Simonet, Historia de los mozárabes 488–498. Manzano Moreno, La frontera de al-Andalus 161–163, 173–175. Cf. Meouak, Pouvoir souverain 220–227.

356

monferrer-sala

that Arabic facilitated acculturation, and with it the assimilation of Islamic ideas and practices.18 Albarus himself may have been an Arabized Christian,19 like other religious figures in the 9th century, among them Abbot Samson.20 Although no texts in Arabic by the abbot have survived, we do know that Muḥammad i asked him to translate from Arabic to Latin (ex Caldeo sermone in Latinum eloquium) the correspondence (epistolas) between the emir (regis Hispanie) and the king of the Franks (regem Francorum), Charles the Bald.21 Following the Arab-Islamic conquest, the religious situation was restored; ecclesiastical structures and hierarchies were retained but came under the control of the emir, who assumed the power to appoint and dismiss bishops. At that time, Toledo was still the seat of the Church in the Iberian Peninsula, but the religious center for Arabized Christians was Cordoba, which boasted the largest Arabized Christian community.22 One result of that Christian demographic density was the city’s large number of churches, monasteries, sanctuaries, and hermitages in the 9th–10th centuries,23 although we should note that the number of temples erected inside the city (i.e., in the medina) was lower than previously thought: the cathedral, which passed into Muslim hands, the Ecclesia Sancti Cipriani, the Basilica Sanctae Mariae, and a handful more. By contrast, the sources suggest there were numerous temples in the suburbs and in the hills behind the city; indeed, most Christian churches lay outside the city, on the outskirts, to which the Christian population had been driven.24 It is hardly surprising that in all these places of prayer, but also of study, we should find Arabized monks like Abbot Samson, as well as Andalusi and foreign monks—such as George (Georgio < Jūrjis) and Serviodeo (ʿAbd Allāh)25—who devoted themselves to the study of Arabic and the knowledge that was then being transmitted in Arabic; indeed, some of the finest works must have been brought to Cordoba by these and other Eastern monks. Monks hailing from

18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25

Cf. Jiménez Pedrajas, Historia de los mozárabes en Al Ándalus 88–91, 296–299. Although with some reservations, see Epalza, Influences islamiques. Cf. Monferrer-Sala and Cecini, Once again. Apologético del Abad Sansón, ed. Palacios Royán, 76. Samsonis apologeticvs ii, praef. 9,1–5, in Corpvs scriptorvm mvzarabicorvm ii, 554. Lévi-Provençal, España musulmana 48. Simonet, Historia de los mozárabes 614–617. Martínez Ruiz, Localización. For the conversion of Visigothic sanctuaries into Muslim mosques, see Calvo Capilla, Les premieres mosques, espec. 140–157. Eulogi Memoriale sanctorvm ii, 10.23; ii, 13.1, in Corpvs scriptorvm mvzarabicorvm ii, 425– 426 and 432 respectively.

the arabicized christians in cordoba

357

the Near East brought Eastern polemic works to the Andalusi Christians; their traces can be discerned in the works of 9th-century Christian authors in Cordoba.26 It is certainly striking that Melkite monks like Jorge should enjoy such ease of access to, and become so closely involved with, the Catholic community in Cordoba. It suggests that he and other monks may not have come from the lavra of Mār Sābā to Cordoba simply ob stipendio monachorum,27 as claimed in Eulogius’s Memoriale sanctorum, but rather that their arrival was part of an undertaking agreed beforehand by the prefects of the Eastern monasteries and the ecclesiastical authorities of the Catholic Church, whose links had been strengthened following the conquest of Hispania by Arab troops.28 Given the need to meet the requirements of the Islamic administration and the urgent need for monks conversant with both the Arabic language and ecclesiastical matters, and at the same time familiar with the Quran and Islamic tradition, both sides had an interest in fostering closer links between Cordoba’s Christians and Melkite monks.29 Returning to the Arabization process, we should not lose sight of the fact that most of the Christian population lived in the rural milieu and largely maintained Romance as their vehicular language; strictly speaking, they spoke a kind of Romandalusi, a combination of Romance linguistic elements current at the time with dialectal use of Andalusi malḥūn,30 whose linguistic register allowed them to communicate with the Muslim majority. The Arab and Berber populations continued to use both Arabic and Romance, and even a mixture of the two, well into the 13th century, as we can infer from the Dīwān by the Cordoban scholar Ibn Quzmān.31 The process of acculturation must have taken place only in the urban social groups belonging to the “affluent classes” and among the ecclesiastical curia; it enabled them to retain the social and economic privileges they had enjoyed prior to the arrival of the Arabs, as well as to play an active part in the complex

26 27 28

29 30

31

Simonet, Historia de los mozárabes 341–342. Eulogi Memoriale sanctorum ii, 10.23, in Corpvs scriptorvm mvzarabicorvm ii, 425. Goussen, Die christlich-arabische Literatur 10–11 (Spanish trans. by J.P. Monferrer-Sala, La literatura árabe cristiana 20–21). See also Dubler, Crónica arábigo-bizantina; García Moreno, Elementos de tradición bizantina. On the term Melkite, see Monferrer-Sala, Between Hellenism and Arabicization. On the Andalusi dialect, see Corriente, Árabe andalusí; Corriente, Descriptive and comparative grammar 133–139, 141–145; Corriente, Pereira, and Vicente, Aperçu grammatical 221–225 and 227–235. Corriente, Judíos y cristianos. The last edition of the Dīwān, with an augmented study, is Ibn Quzmān, Dīwān.

358

monferrer-sala

social situation in which the legal restrictions imposed on Andalusi Christian communities often had a major impact.32 In this respect it should be recalled that, as in the Near East,33 those in direct contact with local power structures swiftly underwent a considerable degree of Arabization, and at the same time as their acculturation. A famous example is Rabīʿ b. Tawudulf, who worked in the service of Caliph al-Ḥakam i as comes (qūmis) (i.e., governor of the Christian population) and whose tax-collecting duties (mushrif ) brought him a handsome profit.34 Yet, the Christian communities were officially defined by their legal status (dhimma), and thus their movements were restricted by those limits imposed by the Islamic authorities in order to facilitate social interaction and a further assimilation of Christians into Islam.35 Arab sources note that some bilingual Latin-Arabic officials were employed as translators and interpreters at the court in Cordoba; the Metropolitan of Toledo, ʿUbayd Allāh b. Qāsim, acted as translator at a formal reception organized by Caliph al-Ḥakam ii to welcome Ordoño the Wicked, king of León.36 In addition to these officials at the Umayyad court in Cordoba, the Arabized Christian population included men of science, such as Yaḥyā b. Isḥāq, the son of a Christian doctor, who acted as physician to Caliph ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii, spread the medical knowledge of the Greeks (rūm) among Andalusi Arab authors, and also served both as ambassador to the court of Ramiro ii and as emissary to the rebel Ibn Ḥafṣūn, with whom he appears to have developed a friendship, or at least certain political sympathies towards Ibn Ḥafṣūn’s insurgency against the Cordoba Caliphate.37 This channel of sociocultural and political integration was so effective that, in the heyday of the Taifa kingdoms, certain Arabized Christians were able to play a major role in dealings between the Christian and Islamic communities.38 It can be deduced from the writings of Eulogius and Alvarus that this Arabized, acculturated sector was a source of concern for the Catholic Church. The problem, however, was not that these Christians had been integrated into Andalusi society—after all, the majority of the population was Christian until 1000—but rather that this integration in turn prompted certain disturbing trends among acculturated Christians, not least of which were a relaxation of

32 33 34 35 36 37 38

Kassis, Some aspects; Echevarría Arsuaga, Los marcos legales. Cf. Griffith, The Manṣūr family 29–51; and Yarbrough, ʿUmar b. ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz 173–216. López, El conde de los cristianos. On this issue Aillet, Les mozárabes 157–175. Aillet, Les mozarabes 33–39. Simonet, Historia de los mozárabes 622–623. Simonet, Glosario li–lii; Fierro, Abderramán iii 235. Christis, Educating.

the arabicized christians in cordoba

359

religious practices and the assimilation of certain elements of Islamic theological dogma. Evidence is provided by the Council of Cordoba, held in 839 ce, where the bishops and metropolitans of al-Andalus decided to condemn the heresies and schisms that were ravaging the Catholic Church in the southern Iberian Peninsula. One such offshoot was of particular concern to the Catholic Church in Cordoba: the schismatic church created in Egabrum (Cabra).39 However, Arabization and acculturation were not in themselves a problem for the Catholic Church in Cordoba. The problem arose due to the contamination prompted by contact and assimilation: for example, marriages between Christian women and Muslim men, bigamy, polygamy, and incest, all of which were recorded among the Christians of Egabrum (today’s Cabra) The reaction of Cordoba’s orthodox clergy must be set largely within that socioreligious context,40 a context epitomized by the so-called episode of the Martyrs of Cordoba,41 which served to strengthen and reassert their identity in opposition to Islam.42 The Islamization of the Christian community in al-Andalus during the 9th and 10th centuries took place in the heart of a society divided along ethnic lines; ethnic rifts in turn prompted continual conflict, evident for example in the fitna of the late 9th century, which persisted throughout the 10th century and led many Christians to emigrate to northern Spain.43 This social conflict was led by two forces: Christian groups and muladi groups (muwalladūn) who were willing to join forces to fight the Arabs, although their ulterior motives are not wholly clear.44 Unfortunately, contemporary sources provide only scant information on the Christian communities of al-Andalus in the 11th century, a period that marked the beginning of the end of their presence; one century later, they had disappeared.45 In 1125, Alfonso i of Aragon, nicknamed “The Battler,” invaded alAndalus at the head of an army of 4,000 knights from Aragon and Catalonia; in March 1126 he defeated the Almoravid troops at the battle of Arnisol (Anzul), waged in the area between the towns of Lucena and Puente Genil (Cordoba Province). Shortly afterwards, following a year of indecisive engagements, the Christian troops retreated, taking with them numerous Andalusi Christians,

39 40 41 42 43 44 45

Hagerty, Los cuervos 108–113. Marín, Individuo 52; Manzano Moreno, Conquistadores 48. Monferrer-Sala, Mitografía hagiomartirial; Stroumsa, Single-source records. Tieszen, Christian Identity. Reglero de la Fuente, Onomástica arabizante 103. Acién Almansa, Entre el feudalismo y el Islam 68, 88. García Sanjuán, El fin de las comunidades cristianas.

360

monferrer-sala

who were eventually resettled in the Ebro delta. The situation, however, was worse for the Christians who opted to remain in al-Andalus; in autumn 1126, the Almoravid emir, Ibn Tāshufīn, ordered the immediate deportation of Christians to various areas of present-day Morocco. Cordoba’s Christians were mostly deported to Meknes and Salé, from whence they later moved elsewhere.46

2

Mapping Texts

Our current knowledge of Christian Arabic textual production in al-Andalus is somewhat approximate, for few texts have survived. External evidence suggests that more work must have been produced than has survived,47 given the Christians’ interest in the Arabic language as a necessary tool for defending the Christian faith; this would explain, among other things, the need for translations of biblical material, polemic texts, and apologetic works. As in the Oriens christianus arabicus, two needs informed the use of Arabic among Christians: the need for oral fluency required to communicate with, and gain access to posts in, the state administration; and the need, for ideological reasons, to be able to defend oneself and dispute with Muslims using their most sacred instrument, Arabic, the language of God. This fluency, once acquired, enabled Christians to become conversant with Muslim sources (the Quran and Islamic tradition), and thus to engage in polemics with Muslims, not only drawing on their language but also on their own texts. This can be inferred from a lost work, perhaps written in the 9th century, by the Arabized Christian from Cordoba, Ḥafṣ b. Albar al-Qūṭī, perhaps the son of the celebrated Albarus Cordubensis.48 Some years ago, Van Koningsveld produced an intriguing periodization of Arabized Christian textual production,49 and six years later Miller and Kassis classified that production into commissioned versus noncommissioned work,50 thus allowing Andalusi Christian Arabic texts to be divided, in sociological terms, into two clearly defined blocks. More recently, M.-Th. Urvoy has opted for a thematic approach.51 While recognizing the value of the respective

46 47 48 49 50 51

Cajigas, Mozárabes i, 250–253; Serrano, Dos fetuas 167–169. Monferrer-Sala, Los cristianos arabizados; Monferrer-Sala, Los cristianos de al-Andalus 261–263, 265–269; Monferrer-Sala, Transmitting texts. Dunlop, Hafs ibn Albar. Cf. van Koningsveld, Christian Arabic literature. Miller and Kassis, The Mozarabs 424–425. Urvoy, Quelle est la part d’originalité.

the arabicized christians in cordoba

361

classifications provided by van Koningsveld and Miller-Kassis, the complexity of the work produced in Cordoba, and the difficulties involved in dating that work, have led us to prefer a diachronic approach; even so, we include works whose copies were made at a later date, though the originals were produced much earlier. The earliest reference to Andalusi Christian Arabic textual production is to be found in De rebus Hispaniae, whose author, Archbishop Rodrigo Jiménez de Rada, notes that one Iohannes Hispalensis, a 9th-century bishop from Seville, had translated the whole Bible into Arabic, adding his own commentary. If this were true, it would change our whole vision of Andalusi Christian output in Arabic, requiring a radical overhaul of the chronology of the “history of Christian Arabic literature in al-Andalus.” There is, however, every reason to believe that the work in question was no more than a commentary on a text—perhaps of Eastern origin—to which John of Seville added his own expositio in Arabic.52 Moreover, neither the this figure nor his links to Seville have ever been identified. The earliest known Andalusi Christian Arabic text is a fragmentary version of Paul’s Epistle to the Galatians, originally housed in the Biblioteca Capitular at Sigüenza53 and now in the Vatican Library under shelf mark Vat. lat. 12900. The translation was made from the Vulgate, to judge by the text preserved in Spanish codices, and can in all probability be dated to the 9th century. Two revisions of this text have survived—found in Cod. bnm 4971 and Marciana Gr. Z. 11 (379), respectively—indicating that the original must have achieved a certain fame and that the fragment may have formed at least part of a Pauline corpus, and possibly of a whole New Testament, including the Gospels.54 Though no views have hitherto been advanced regarding the geographical provenance of the fragment, the dating alone suggests that it was produced in al-Andalus, and probably in Cordoba; further is required into this matter. The next oldest work is an anonymous translation of the Book of Psalms; nothing is known of its author, but it was composed prior to the version produced by Ḥafṣ b. Albar al-Qūṭī, and therefore before 889 ce.55 This latter version of the Book of Psalms, composed after the episode of the Martyrs of Cordoba, was dated to the second half of the 9th century, and more specifically to 889 ce (wa-fī l-ṭāʾi thumma al-fāʾi thumma al-zaʾi), if the dating is correct.56 It is an

52 53 54 55 56

Monferrer-Sala, De nuevo sobre Iohannes Hispalensis. Tisserant, with de Bruyne, Une feuille arabo-latine 180. Cf. Monferrer-Sala, The fragmentary. Martin, An anonymous Mozarab. Ḥafṣ b. Albar al-Qūṭī, Psautier, ed. Urvoy 20 (verse 128a). For a new critical edition of work,

362

monferrer-sala

Arabic verse translation of the Book of Psalms using the rajaz mashṭūr meter, commissioned from Ḥafṣ b. Albar al-Qūṭī by Bishop Valens of Cordoba. This translation is of interest for two reasons: it includes a fascinating introduction, for which the author made use of an urjūza, in which—surprisingly—he makes no reference to the dramatic events surrounding the martyria that had allegedly just taken place in Cordoba; and the translation displays a number of linguistic features linking it to Eastern Christian practice.57 This translation has earned considerable popular acclaim. In the introduction to his verse translation of the Psalms, comprising 143 verses, Ḥafṣ justifies both his translation and the need for it, noting that a previous prose translation then circulating among Andalusi Christians contained numerous errors, which prompted his new version, commissioned by the Bishop of Cordoba. Ḥafṣ offers an interesting justification of his decision to use the internal-rhyming rajaz meter: the fact that it closely resembles the iambic meter used by the Christians. This assertion is not without significance, for it suggests a kind of “reversible acculturation”; for Ḥafṣ, the Arabic form chosen is an imitatio of a form current in a superior Christian language: Latin. If this interpretation is correct, then clearly, although the Arabization of Andalusi Christian groups had a functional purpose, it in no way ruled out another cultural reality: for Arabized Christian authors and translators, Latin was a superior language and belonged to a superior culture—that of their Latin ancestors. This is probably not the only work written by Ḥafṣ. Indeed, Miller and Kassis refer to a “larger collection of biblical translations,” and attribute a book entitled Kitāb al-Qūṭī to Ḥafṣ.58 This author also exemplifies the need to use Arabic for polemic purposes. In his Iʿlām, al-Imām al-Qurṭubī (1182–1258) quotes Ḥafṣ on five occasions and attributes several works to him. One such work is the Kitāb al-Masāʾil al-sabʿ wa-l-khamsīn (Book of the fifty-seven questions), quoted six times by al-Imām al-Qurṭubī,59 a Maliki jurist from Cordoba and a traditionist expert.60 The fragments quoted are of a clearly apologetic

57

58 59 60

see van Koningsveld, The Arabic psalter. Monferrer-Sala, Salmo 11. On this issue, see Monferrer Sala, Sobre una lectura; MonferrerSala, Notula palæographica; Monferrer-Sala, Albam; Monferrer-Sala, Yā-btā; MonferrerSala, Tradvctologica mvzarabica; Monferrer-Sala, A Gospel quotation; Comes, Arabic, Rūmī 173–175; Arbache and Roisse, Marc 1,1–11 68–69. Miller and Kassis, The Mozarabs 424. Monferrer-Sala, Scripta Theologica 53–55, 59–61; cf. van Koningsveld, The Arabic psalter 74–78. Kaddouri (Qaddūrī), Identificación 215–219. Cf. Monferrer-Sala, Al-Imām al-Qurṭubī 391– 394.

the arabicized christians in cordoba

363

nature and focus on the following theological issues: the doctrine of the Trinity, the duty of fasting,61 the seven Christian festivals,62 the mass,63 the blessing of houses with salt,64 and the custom of making the sign of the cross.65 As van Koningsveld has noted, al-Imām al-Qurṭubī may have been referring to texts written in Latin. Another work circulating in al-Andalus in the 10th century, commissioned by Caliph al-Ḥakam ii, was the Arabic translation of Paulus Orosius’s Historiae adversus paganos,66 which Ibn Khaldūn attributed jointly to the celebrated Cordoban scholar Qāsim b. Aṣbagh—identified by van Koningsveld as Aṣbagh b. Nabīl67—and an unnamed Arabized Christian translator identified by Mayte Penelas as Ḥafṣ b. Albar al-Qūṭī.68 This Arabic translation, entitled Taʾrīkh al-ʿālam (History of the world), makes considerable use of religious sources, although it also draws on other texts. Biblical references abound, though they are not always appropriate to the text; and there are also allusions to Patristic writings, as well as to various hagiographical and ecclesiastical sources, and especially to Isidore of Seville. The text earned great acclaim in al-Andalus and was even quoted by the famous Cordoban physician Ibn Juljul (10th century) in his Ṭabaqāt al-aṭibbāʾ wa-l-ḥukamāʾ (The generations of physicians and wise men);69 there may have been a copy of the text, together with its Latin original, in al-Ḥakam ii’s library.70 A third 10th century work is the “Calendar” attributed to Reccemund (Rabīʿ b. Zayd), bishop of Cordoba, native of the city of Elvira, and dignitary at the court of Caliph ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii, who commissioned it.71 The book, entitled Tafṣīl al-zamān wa-masāliḥ al-abdān, (Division of seasons and benefits of bodies), and also known as Kitāb al-Azmān (Book of the seasons), has been preserved in a 14th-century ms, copied in Hebrew-Aramaic script and attributed to Abū l-Ḥasan ʿArīb b. Saʿd al-Kātib. A later Latin version is also known; attributed to Harib filii Zeid episcopi (i.e., ʿArīb b. Zayd al-Usquf), it undermined Dozy’s

61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71

Monferrer-Sala, Scripta Theologica 59. Monferrer-Sala, Scripta Theologica 59. Monferrer-Sala, Scripta Theologica 60. Monferrer-Sala, Scripta Theologica 61. Monferrer-Sala, Scripta Theologica 61. Kitāb Hurūšiyūš, ed. Penelas. See also Christys, Christians in al-Andalus 135–157. Cf. van Koningsveld, Christian Arabic literature 217. Penelas, A possible author. Simonet, Glosario xx; Monferrer-Sala, Fuentes textuales 294. Wasserstein, The library of al-Ḥakam ii 99; Fierro, Abderramán iii 234. Le Calendrier de Cordoue; Miller and Kassis, The Mozarabs 421. Cf. van Koningsveld, Christian Arabic literature 212–216. See also Christys, Christians in al-Andalus 108–134.

364

monferrer-sala

theory that these were two different texts, each attributable to one of the two names mentioned; in fact, the two versions contain the same text, although the authors’ names are distorted. Written around 961, the “Calendar” adheres closely to the patterns developed by the anwāʾ genre—works containing treatises of popular astronomy closely linked to meteorological phenomena—and by Eastern Christian works. It provides abundant data on Christian festivals, liturgical practices in al-Andalus, and the signs of the zodiac, together with information on agriculture, medicine, and hygiene, among other things. In short, the text furnishes clear evidence of the vast scope of scientific study among Arabized Andalusi Christian elites. Interestingly, the text confirms the author’s familiarity with this genre in the East; in his travels there, he met Eastern Christians who were well-versed in the sciences, which obviously included philosophy, logic, and theology, as well as other disciplines. This book achieved such renown that it was retranslated into Latin in the 12th century by Gerard of Cremona under the title Liber Anohe (i.e., Kitāb Anwāʾ). There is an interesting textual corpus of translations of biblical material made by Christian bilingual Latin-Arabic translators. Apart from Ḥafṣ’ translation of the Book of Psalms and the anonymous version that circulated prior to it, there is only one other surviving translation from the Old Testament: an Arabic version of the Pentateuch included in Codex Ar. 234, now in the Bayerische Staatsbibliothek (Munich).72 The text raises a number of fascinating textual and sociohistorical questions. Van Koningsveld drew attention to the Andalusi provenance of this manuscript, which has survived in the form of a 14th-century copy,73 noting that it was used by Muslims for polemic purposes, and may also have been used by the Moriscos in the 16th century, as can be inferred from an addendum written in Latin but using Arabic script (Qunfashī janaralīsh, i.e., Confessio generalis) by someone other than the person who copied the rest of the manuscript. This Pentateuch, a translation based on the Nestorian version of the Peshīṭtā, circulated among the Moriscos for a purely physical reason: it was part of a codex that also contained a Gospel. The translation is of immense value, in that it allows us, along with some evidence and possible contacts,74 to assume that there were Nestorians in al-Andalus, and therefore to explore new possibilities that might account not only for the diversity of Christian groups living in al-Andalus but also for certain doctrinal 72 73 74

Monferrer-Sala, ¿Circularon textos?; Monferrer-Sala, A Nestorian Arabic Pentateuch. Van Koningsveld, Christian-Arabic manuscripts 431–432. See for instance Cavadini, The last Christology 38–39; Coope, The martyrs of Cordoba 47. See also Duque, Claiming Martyrdom 25; and Safran, Identity.

the arabicized christians in cordoba

365

movements—in this case the Adoptionism propounded by Elipandus.75 The copy of this Pentateuch dates from the 14th century, but since it is the translation of a Syriac original, its circulation in al-Andalus may have two explanations: a) this is a copy of a text brought from the Near East; or b) it is a copy of a translation made by Nestorians living in al-Andalus. The first explanation would appear to be the most likely, suggesting that it was brought to al-Andalus by Nestorians for use by a Nestorian community. If so, we can assume that it arrived at a fairly early date—perhaps in the 10th century—although there is no evidence to suggest a specific date. In addition to these two translations, a number of quotations from books of the Old Testament are to be found in the works of both Christian and Muslim authors. Quotations abound, for example, in al-Qurṭubī’s al-Iʿlām (13th century),76 in al-Khazrajī’s Maqāmiʿ al-ṣulbān (12th century),77 and in Ibn Barrajān’s Sharḥ asmāʾ Allāh al-ḥusnā (12th century),78 but above all in al-Fiṣal, the magnum opus of the Cordoban polygraph Ibn Ḥazm79 (11th century), which— despite the traditional view—does not match Saadya’s translation (10th century).80 This would suggest that at least one other version of the Pentateuch must have been circulating in al-Andalus, at least from the 10th century onwards. Two further translations of the Pentateuch may have been current in al-Andalus: a copy preserved in Cod. Borg. Ar. 129, which is Saadya’s version,81 and a tarjamat Kitāb al-Tawrāt (in fact a Hexateuch: Pentateuch and the Book of Joshua) preserved in the Sultan ii Mahmud Kütüphanesi Library, which has an early marginal note recording “its sale near Cordova (Qurṭuba).”82 There are also some interesting quotations from the Old Testament, translated from Hebrew, in a work by a Jewish convert described by al-Imām alQurṭubī as “one of those who embraced the religion of the Christian creed” (baʿḍ al-muntaḥillīn li-dīn al-milla al-naṣrāniyya).83 Following the practice 75 76 77

78 79 80 81 82 83

Epalza, Félix de Urgel. Al-Qurṭubī, al-Iʿlām, ed. al-Saqqā. Cf. Sarrió Cucarella, Corresponding, Another edition is al-Khazrajī, Maqāmiʿ al-ṣulbān, ed. al-Sharfī. Review by Khalil Samir, Revue d’al-Khazrajī. There is another edition, although based on a fewer manuscripts: Al-Khazrajī, Maqāmiʿ al-ṣulbān, ed. Shāmad. For a summary and commentary, see Tieszen, Christian identity 212–221. See also Burman, Religious polemic 62–70. Ibn Barrajān, Šarḥ asmāʾ, ed. de la Torre. Ibn Ḥazm, al-Fiṣal ii. Monferrer-Sala, Acerca de los testimonia biblica. Levi della Vida, Manoscritti arabi 39–42; van Koningsveld, Andalusian-Arabic manuscripts 99–100 (nº 68). Birnbaum, Turkish manuscripts 503 (n. 601). Cf. Burman, Religious polemic 72, 76.

366

monferrer-sala

favored by the mutakallimūn, this anonymous author of the Tathlīth al-waḥdāniyya (Trinitizing the Unity [of God]) used Old Testament quotations to support his discursive theological arguments on the dogma of the Trinity.84 The text, fragments of which are preserved in al-Imām al-Qurṭubī’s Iʿlām, circulated—at least in this form—among Cordoba’s Muslim polemicists during the 12th century, by which time local Christians had been deported. Versions of the Gospels, of which numerous copies have survived, are of particular interest.85 The text known as Fragment No. iii preserved in Cod. Leipzig 1059 B (formerly Codex Tischendorf xxxi B), which Vollers-Dobschütz has described as “Spanish-Arabic” (i.e., Andalusi), and which still appears as such in the online catalogue of the University of Leipzig Library (“Fragment of a Spanish-Arabic review on the praefatio and the capitula of the Gospel of Matthew and the Gospel of Mark transmitted in the Latin Church”), would in fact appear to have been produced in al-Andalus, but was preserved in the Monastery of St. Catherine, Mt. Sinai. The other versions are to be found in Cod. Ar. 23886 and Cod. Ar. 234 (both at the Bayerische Sttatsbibliothek, Munich), Brit. Mus. Add. 9061, Cod. León 35, and bnm 4971. Cod. bnm 4971 appears to be an independent text and does not fully correspond to the other versions. It could be a copy of an earlier translation, possibly contemporaneous with the Epistle to the Galatians; it may, indeed, have belonged to the same corpus of texts. According to some scholars, together with Leipzig Univ. Or. 1059B,87 the socalled “Isḥāq b. Balashq al-Qurṭubī family” comprises five manuscripts (Qarawiyyīn 730,88 Brit. Mus. Add. 9061, Cod. Ar. 238, Cod. Ar. 234, and Cod. León 35), all of which transmitted the translation by Isḥāq b. Balashq al-Qurṭubī, whose original is as yet unidentified. The earliest of the five manuscripts is Qarawiyyīn 730, preserved at the Khizānat al-Qarawiyyīn (Fez); it contains a fragmentary Andalusi version of the Gospels, which is of immense value both for what it tells us about the history of the Andalusi biblical text—specifically about the version transmitted by the Isḥāq b. Balashq manuscript family—and for the exclusive readings it preserves. The codex has been dated to the 12th century. The preserved fragment contains part of Mark’s Gospel (except 1: 1–6, 38), the 84 85 86 87 88

Cf. Monferrer-Sala and Mantas-España, De Toledo a Córdoba 178–183; Monferrer-Sala, Arguing it out. Roisse, Los Evangelios. Cf. López y López, La traducción; Monferrer Sala, Balašq Ibn Ishaq. Cf. also Kashouh, The Arabic versions 16–17. This codex has recently been edited by Kassis, An Andalusian Arabic version. Monferrer-Sala, Leipzig Univ. Or. 1059B. Cf. Evangelio árabe fragmentario, ed. Monferrer-Sala; Monferrer-Sala, Material crítico. See also Monferer-Sala, Una perla mozárabe; Monferrer-Sala, Tres interferencias; MonferrerSala, Geographica neotestamentica; Monferrer-Sala, You brood of vipers.

the arabicized christians in cordoba

367

Monarchian prologue and capitula of Luke (followed by his gospel, except for 24: 28–53), and the end of the Monarchian prologue and capitula of John, followed by his gospel. The textual relationship between the five manuscripts is not without interest: it can be inferred that four versions draw—in three successive stages—on an earlier revision of the original translation. Qarawiyyīn 730 may perhaps be that original translation, or maybe a copy of the lost original; it was later revised by a bilingual translator-copyist, who produced the version contained in Brit. Mus. Add. 9061. This version subsequently came into the hands of Isḥāq b. Balashq al-Qurṭubī, who produced the version attributed to him and preserved in Cod. Ar. 238, Cod. Ar. 234, and Cod. León 35. According to the currently known manuscripts, Cod. Ar. 238 appears to contain a direct version of Isḥāq b. Balashq, while Cod. Ar. 234 and Cod. León 35 appear to be later revisions.89 All this would suggest that the version attributed to Isḥāq b. Balashq, rather than a translation, is a revision of an earlier translation. The relationship between the various texts can be expressed as follows:90 Qarawiyyīn 730

≠ 4971 bnm

| B. M. Add. 9061 | Version of Isḥāq b. Balashq’s family | Cod. ar. 238 |

|

Cod. ar. 234 Cod. León 35 The process of revision can to some extent be traced using information provided in the colophon of Cod. ar. 238 (fol. 97r, line 8), which states that the copying of the manuscript was completed “on Sunday, in the last ten (days) of the month of shawwāl, corresponding to the month of August in the year seven hundred and ninety-six” (wa-sabʿumiʾa sitt sana aghusht shahr maʿa muwāfiqan shawwāl shahr min akhar al-ʿashar fī yawm al-aḥad). The year 796 obviously 89 90

Cf. Metzger, The Arabic versions 260. Cf. Monferrer-Sala, You brood of vipers.

368

monferrer-sala

refers to the Hijri dating system, equivalent to 1394ce. Intriguingly, this date does not match that given a few lines earlier on the same folio (lines 4 and 5), where the copyist states that “he wrote it for Ibrahīm b. Khayr on the twelfth of the month of January, in the year eleven hundred and forty five […] being at the time in the city of Fez” (katabahā li-Ibrahim b. Khayr fī ithnā ʿashar yawmān min shahr yanayir sana khamsa w-ʿarbaʿīn wa-miʾa wa-alf wa-huwa ḥinaʾidhin bi-madīnat Fās). The Common Era date is supported by another piece of information on fol. 90r (lines 11–13), to the effect that: “it was written by Abū ʿUmar the deacon (al-diyāqun), son of Yuwān b. ʿAyshūn, for Ibrahīm b. Khayr b. ʿAbd […] in the city of Fez […] and completed by his own hand on Friday the thirtieth of March in the year eleven hundred and forty five” (katabahu Abū ʿUmar al-diyāqun b. Yuwān b. ʿAyshūn li-Ibrahim b. Khayr b. ʿAbd bī-madīnat Fās wa-kamula ʿalā yadayhi yawm al-jumʿa fī thalāthīna yawmān min shahr mārs sana khamsa waarbaʿīna wa-miʾa wa-alf ). This shows that the 1394 version is in itself a copy of the earlier version produced in 1145. Obviously, this information is of considerable value for tracing the transmission of the text and has evident diachronic consequences of particular interest for the so-called “Ibn Balashq family” text. Moreover, the name of the translator (Isḥāq b. Balashq al-Qurṭubī) does not appear anywhere in Cod. Qarawiyyīn 730, nor in Brit. Mus. Add. 9061, the text on which later revisions were based, although his name is to be found in Cod. Ar. 238, Cod. Ar. 234, and León Cod. 3591 (i.e., in texts that de facto represent the second and third revisions). Editions of other New Testament texts are very scarce, except for the “Epistle to the Romans” contained in bnm 4971, which Potthast does not regard as a translation by Ibn Balashq,92 a suggestion put forward years earlier by López y López.93 Although equally few apocryphal texts are known to have circulated among Arabized Christians in al-Andalus, six references to one significant text have survived: the “Apocryphal Epistle to the Laodiceans,” whose original version may have been produced at around the same time as the “Epistle to the Galatians” (i.e., around the 9th–10th centuries).94 As in the case of Old Testament materials, Muslim authors—mainly for polemical reasons95—also include numerous quotations from the New Test-

91 92 93 94 95

Cf. Kassis, An Andalusian Arabic version, xxxiv–xxxvi. Cf. Potthast, Die andalusische Übersetzung. López y López, La traducción 82. Monferrer-Sala and Roisse, Una versión árabe andalusí; Monferrer-Sala, An Egyptian Arabic witness. On this issue, see Potthast, Christen und Muslime 117–421.

the arabicized christians in cordoba

369

ament; examples are found, for example, in al-Qurṭubī’s al-Iʿlām, al-Khazrajī’s Maqāmiʿ al-ṣulbān,96 Ibn Barrajān’s Sharḥ asmāʾ Allāh al-ḥusnā, and Ibn Ḥazm’s Fiṣal, which quotes from a text translated from a Latin original.97

3

Conclusion

Let us conclude by adding that the integration of the Christian communities in Andalusi society was certainly not a problem, since Arabization and acculturation were not in themselves a problem for the Catholic Church in Cordoba, although this integration led to certain disturbing trends among Christians through the assimilation of certain elements of the Islamic creed, as evidenced by the Council of Cordoba in 839ce, where the bishops and metropolitans of al-Andalus decided to condemn the heresies and schisms that were ravaging the Catholic Church in the southern Iberian Peninsula. Thus, the problem arose due to the contamination prompted by contact and assimilation between Christian and Muslim groups: for example, marriages between Christian women and Muslim men, bigamy, polygamy, and incest. As for the Islamization of the Christian groups during the 9th and 10th centuries, this must set in the context of a society confronted by a persistent ethnic and social conflict (in the case of the Christian population by Christian groups and muladi groups, i.e., muwalladūn), which led many Christians to emigrate to northern Spain. On the other hand, although the few extant texts composed by the Arabized Christians give us little idea of their literary output—compared to that of Jewish and Muslim intellectuals—there is every reason to assume that Christian authors produced more and more varied work. They appear to have cultivated a poetic approach, evident not only in the verse translation of the Book of Psalms by the Cordoban scholar Ḥafṣ b. Albar al-Qūṭī, a remarkable example of that art, but also in a number of poems by Arabized Christian bards, of which fragments have survived.98 Examples include the two 11th-century poets referred to by Ibn ʿIdhārī (13th century), by Ibn Saʿīd al-Maghribī (13th century) and by al-Maqqarī (16th–17th century),99 al-Mirʿizī and Abū l-Qāsim b. al-Khayyāṭ, the

96 97 98 99

Cf. Sarrió Cucarella, Corresponding. Griffith, The Bible in Arabic 199; McCoy iii, What hath Rome. Urvoy, Que nous apprend. Simonet, Glosario xv; van Koningsveld, Christian Arabic literature 218–219; Fierro, Abderramán iii 235.

370

monferrer-sala

latter a Muslim poet and theologian who converted to Christianity after Alfonso vi conquered Toledo. The roll-call of poets was undoubtedly much longer and by the 9th century must have included Cordoban Christians; this can be inferred from Alvarus of Cordoba’s complaint that Cordoba’s Arabized Christians were “more learned in metrics than these very peoples [i.e., the Arabs], and with more sublime beauty […]” (ita ut metrice eruditjori ab ipsis gentibus carmine et sublimiori pulcritudine […]);100 unfortunately, neither their names nor their compositions have survived.

Bibliography Primary Sources Albari epistvla vii, in Corpvs scriptorvm mvzarabicorvm i, 201–202. An Andalusian Arabic version of the four Gospels (Bayer. Staatsbibl., München, cod. Arab. 238), ed. Hanna E. Kassis, Leuven 2016. Apologético del Abad Sansón, ed. Palacios Royán, introduction by Gonzalo del Cerro Calderón, Madrid 1988. Corpvs scriptorvm mvzarabicorvm, ed. Juan Gil, 2 vols., Madrid 1973. Le Calendrier de Cordoue, publié par R. Dozy, nouvelle édition accompagnée d’une traduction française annotée par Charles Pellat, Leiden 1961. Eulogi Memoriale sanctorvm, in Corpvs scriptorvm mvzarabicorvm ii, 363–459. Evangelio árabe fragmentario de Marcos (Ms. Qarawiyyīn 730). Una traducción árabe andalusí del siglo x, Edición diplomática y estudio preliminar Juan Pedro MonferrerSala, Córdoba 2016. Ibn Barrajān, Sharḥ asmāʾ Allāh al-ḥusnā (Comentario sobre los nombres más bellos de Dios), critical edition and study Purificación de la Torre, Madrid 2000. Ibn Ḥazm, al-Fiṣal fī l-milal wa-l-ahwāʾ wa-l-niḥal, ed. M.I. Naṣr and ʿA. al-Raḥmān ʿUmayr, 5 vols., Beirut 1996. Ibn Quzmān, Dīwān: Iṣābat al-aghrāḍ fī dhikr al-aʿrāḍ, ed. F. Corriente, Rabat 2013. al-Khazrajī, Maqāmiʿ al-ṣulbān, ed. M. Shāmad, in Bayn al-Islām wa-l-Masīḥiyyah: Kitāb Abī ʿAbīdah al-Khazrajī, Cairo 1979. al-Khazrajī, Maqāmiʿ al-ṣulbān, ed. ʿA. al Majīd al-Sharfī, Tunis 1975. Kitāb Hurūšiyūš (Traducción árabe de las Historiae adversus paganos de Orosio), ed. M. Penelas, Madrid 2001. Le Psautier mozárabe de Hafs le Goth, ed. and trans. M.-T. Urvoy, Toulouse 1994. al-Qurṭubī, Kitāb al-Iʿlām bi-mā fī dīn al-naṣārā min al-fasād wa-l-awhām wa-izhhār

100

Albari Indicvlvs lvminosvs 35.57–58, in Corpvs scriptorvm mvzarabicorvm i, 315.

the arabicized christians in cordoba

371

maḥāsin dīn al-islām wa-ithbāt nubuwwat nabiyyinā Muḥammad, ed. A.Ḥ. al-Saqqā, Cairo 1980. Samsonis apologeticvs, in Corpvs scriptorvm mvzarabicorvm ii, 506–658.

Secondary Sources Acién Almansa, M., Entre el feudalismo y el Islam. ʿUmar Ibn Ḥafṣūn en los historiadores, en las fuentes y en la historia, Jaen 1994. Acién Almansa, M., Consideraciones sobre los mozárabes de al-Andalus, in Studia Historica. Historia Medieval 27 (2009), 23–36. Aillet, C., Les mozarabes: christianisme, islamisation et arabisation en péninsule ibérique (ixe–xiie siècle), Madrid 2010. Arbache, S., and P. Roisse, Marc 1,1–11 arabe. Versions anciennes de Syrie-Palestine et d’al-Andalus, in Mélanges de Science Religieuse 62 (2005), 65–78. Birnbaum, E., Turkish manuscripts: Cataloguing since 1960 and manuscripts still uncatalogued. Part 5: Turkey and Cyrpus, in Journal of the American Oriental Society 104 (1984), 465–503. Burman, T.E., Religious polemic and the intellectual history of the Mozarabs, c. 1050–1200, Leiden, New York, and Köln 1994. Cajigas, I. de las, Los mozárabes. Minorías étnico-religiosas de la edad media española, 2 vols, Madrid 1947–1948. Cavadini, J.C., The last christology of the west: Adoptionism in Spain and Gaul, 785–820, Philadelphia 1993. Calvo Capilla, S., Les premieres mosques et la transformation des sanctuaries wisigothiques (92H/711–170H/785), in Mélanges de la Casa de Velázquez 41 (2011), 131– 163. Christys, A., Christians in al-Andalus (711–1000), Richmond (Surrey) 2002. Comes, R., Arabic, Rūmī, Coptic, or merely Greek alphanumerical notation? The case of a Mozarabic 10th century Andalusī manuscript, in Suhayl 3 (2002–2003), 157– 186. Coope, J.A., The martyrs of Córdoba: Community and family conflict in an age of mass conversion, Lincoln and London 1995. Corriente, F., Judíos y cristianos en el Dīwān de Ibn Quzmān, contempráneo de Ibn Ezra, in Abraham ibn Ezra y su tiempo: actas del Simposio Internacional. Abraham Ibn Ezra and his age: Proceedings of the international symposium, Madrid 1990, 73– 77. Corriente, F., Árabe andalusí y lenguas romances, Madrid 1992. Corriente, F., Tres mitos contemporáneos frente a la realidad de Alandalús: romanticismo filoárabe, “cultura Mozárabe” y “cultura Sefardí,” in Orientalismo, exotismo y traducción, coord. G.F. Parrilla and M.C. Feria García, Cuenca 2000, 39–47. Corriente, F., A descriptive and comparative grammar of Andalusi Arabic, Leiden and Boston 2013.

372

monferrer-sala

Corriente, F., C. Pereira, and Á. Vicente, Aperçu gramatical du faisceau dialectal árabe andalou. Perspectives synchroniques, diachroniques et panchroniques, Berlin and Boston 2015. Christis, A., Educating the Christian elite in Umayyad Córdoba, in Die Interaktion von Herrschern und Eliten in imperialen Ordnungen des Mittelalters, ed. Wolfram Drews, Berlin 2018, 114–124. Dubler, C.E., Sobre la Crónica arábigo-bizantina de 741 y la influencia bizantina en la Península Ibérica, in Al-Andalus 11 (1946), 283–349. Dunlop, D.M., Hafs ibn Albar—the last of the goths?, in jras 86 (1954), 137–151. Duque, A., Claiming martyrdom in the episode of the martyrs of Córdoba, in Collectanea Christiana Orientalia 8 (2011), 23–48. Echevarría Arsuaga, A., Los marcos legales de la islamización: el procedimiento judicial entre cristianos arabizados y mozárabes, in Studia Historica. Historia Medieval 27 (2009), 37–52. Epalza, M. de, Influences islamiques dans la théologie chrétienne médiévale: l’adoptionisme hispanique, in Islamochristiana 18 (1992), 55–72. Epalza, M. de, Félix de Urgel: influencias islámicas encubiertas de judaísmo y los mozárabes del siglo viii, in Acta Historica et Archaeologica Mediaevalia 22 (1999–2001), 31–68. Fierro, M., Abderramán iii y el califato omeya de Córdoba, Madrid 2011. Flórez, E., España sagrada, 51 vols., Madrid 1747–1879. García Moreno, L.A., Monjes y profecías cristianas próximo-orientales en al-Andalus del s. ix, in Hispania Sacra 51 (1999), 91–100. García Moreno, L.A., Elementos de tradición bizantina en dos Vidas de Mahoma mozárabes, in Bizancio y la Península Ibérica. De la antigüedad tardía a la edad moderna, eds. I.P. Martín and P.B. de la Peña, Madrid 2004, 250–260. García Sanjuán, A., El fin de las comunidades cristianas de al-Andalus (siglos xi–xii): factores de una evolución, in xi Congreso de Estudios Medievales. Cristianos y musulmanes en la península ibérica: la guerra, la frontera y la convivencia (León, 23–26 octubre 2007), Ávila 2009, 259–287. Gil, J., Las tensiones de una minoría religiosa: la sociedad mozárabe, in Los mozárabes. Una minoría olvidada, eds. M. González and Juan del Río, Sevilla 1998, 89–114. Goussen, H., Die christlich-arabische Literatur der Mozaraber, Leipzig 1909. [Spanish trans. by J.P. Monferrer-Sala, La literature árabe cristiana de los mozárabes, Córdoba 1999.] Graf, G., Geschichte der christlichen arabischen Literatur, vol. 1, Vatican City 1944. Griffith, S.H., The Bible in Arabic: The scriptures of the “people of the book” in the language of Islam, Princeton and Oxford 2013. Griffith, The Manṣūr Family and Saint John of Damascus: Christians and Muslims in Umayyad Times, in Christians and Others in the Umayyad State, edited by Antoine Borrut and Fred M. Donner, Chicago il 2016, 29–51.

the arabicized christians in cordoba

373

Hagerty, M.J., Los cuervos de San Vicente. Escatología mozárabe, Madrid 1978. Hitchcock, R., Mozarabs in medieval and early modern Spain: Identities and influences, London and New York 2008. Jiménez Pedrajas R., Historia de los mozárabes en Al Ándalus. Mozárabes y musulmanes en Al- Ándalus: ¿Relaciones de convivencia? ¿o de antagonismo y lucha?, Córdoba 2013. Jaffé, Ph., Bibliotheca rerum germanicarum, Berlin 1866. Kaddouri (Qaddūrī), S., Identificación de “al-Qurtubi” autor de al-I‘lām bimā fī dīn alnaṣāràmin al-fasād wa-l-awhām, in Al-Qanṭara 21/1 (2000), 215–220. Kashouh, H., The Arabic versions of the Gospels: The manuscripts and their families, Berlin and New York 2012. Kassis, H.E., Some aspects of the legal position of Christians under Mālikī jurisprudence in al-Andalus, in Parole de l’Orient 24 (1999), 113–128. Khalil Samir, S., Revue d’al-Khazrajī, Maqāmiʿ al-ṣulbān, in Islamochristiana 6 (1981), 242–254. Lapiedra, E., Cómo los musulmanes llamaban a los cristianos hispánicos, Alicante 1997. Levi della Vida, G., Manoscritti arabi di origine spagnola nella Biblioteca Vaticana, in Note di storia letteraria arabo-ispanica, ed. M. Nallino, Rome 1971, 1–54. Lévi-Provençal, É., España musulmana hasta la caída del califato de Córdoba (711–1031 de J.C.), vol. 4 of Historia de España, ed. R. Menéndez Pidal and introduction by E. García Gómez, Madrid 1957. López y López, Á.C., La traducción de los Evangelios al árabe por Isaac Ben Velasco de Córdoba en el siglo x a. D., in Boletín Millares Carlo 13 (1994), 79–84. López, Á.C., El conde de los cristianos Rabīʿben Teodulfo, exactor y jefe de la guardia palatina del emir al-Ḥakam i, in Al-Andalus-Magreb 7 (1999), 169–184. Manzano Moreno, E., La frontera de al-Andalus en ápoca de los Omeyas Madrid 1991. Manzano Moreno, E., Conquistadores, emires y califas, Barcelona 2006. Manzano Moreno, E., Épocas medievales. 2, Madrid 2010. Marín, M., Individuo y sociedad en al-Andalus, Madrid 1992. Martin, G.K., An anonymous Mozarab translator at work, in Senses of scripture, treasures of tradition: The Bible in Arabic among Jews, Christians and Muslims, ed. M.L. Hjälm, Leiden and Boston 2017, 125–152. Martínez Ruiz, J., Localización de templos mozárabes cordobeses (toponimia e historia), in Ifigea iii–iv (1986–1987), 57–72. McCoy iii, R.M., What hath Rome to do with Seville? Exploring the Latin-to-Arabic translation of the gospel of Matthew in Ibn Barrajān’s (d. 536/1141) Qurʾān commentary, in Senses of scripture, treasures of tradition: The Bible in Arabic among Jews, Christians and Muslims, ed. M.L. Hjälm, Leiden and Boston 2017, 240–251. Menéndez Pidal, R., Orígenes del español. Estado lingüístico de la Península Ibérica hasta el siglo xi, Madrid 1980.

374

monferrer-sala

Meouak, M., Pouvoir souverain, administration centrle et élites politiques dans l’Espagne umayyade (iie–ive/viiie–xe siècles), Helsinki 1999. Metzger, B.M., The Arabic versions, in B.M. Metzger, The early versions of the New Testament: Their origin, transmission and limitations, Oxford 1977. Miller, H.D., and H.E. Kassis, The Mozarabs, in The literature of al-Andalus, eds. M.R. Menocal, R.P. Scheindlin, and M. Sells, Cambridge 2000, 417–434. Monferrer-Sala, J.P., Al-Imām al-Qurṭubī, in Christian-Muslim Relations. A Bibliographical History. Volume 4 (120-1350), Leiden - Boston 2012, 391–394. Monferrer Sala, J.P., Sobre una lectura del Cod. Ar. 238 de la Bayerische Staatsbibliothek de Múnich: un ejemplo de la labor traductora de los cristianos arabizados andalusíes, in Qurṭuba 4 (1999), 194–197. Monferrer-Sala, J.P., Albam < ambōn, in Qurṭuba 4 (1999), 218–221. Monferrer-Sala, J.P., Notula palæographica: algo más sobre el Codex orientales 1059 de la Universitäts-Bibliothek de Leipzig, in Qurṭuba 4 (1999), 229–237. Monferrer-Sala, J.P., De nuevo sobre Iohannes Hispalensis y la primera versión árabe de las ‘Sagradas Escrituras’ realizada en al-Andalus, in Revista del Instituto Egipcio de Estudios Islámicos 31 (1999), 77–105. Monferrer-Sala, J.P., Salmo 11 en versión árabe versificada. Unas notas en torno a las fuentes del Psalterio de Ḥafṣ b. Albar al-Qūṭī, in Miscelánea de Estudios Árabes y Hebraicos 49 (2000), 303–319. Monferrer-Sala, J.P., Yā-btā l-lāḏī fī l-samāwāt … Notas sobre antiguas versiones árabes del Padre Nuestro, in Al-Qanṭara 21 (2000), 277–305. Monferrer-Sala, J.P., A Gospel quotation of Syriac origin in the Fiṣal by Ibn Ḥazm, in Journal of Middle Eastern and North African intellectual and cultural studies 1 (2002), 127–146. Monferrer-Sala, J.P., Tradvctologica mvzarabica. Notes on a fragment of the Codex Arabicus Monachensis Aumer 238, in Meridies 5–6 (2002), 29–49. Monferrer-Sala, J.P., Mitografía hagiomartirial. De nuevo sobre los supuestos mártires cordobeses del siglo ix, in De muerte violenta. Política, religión y violencia en alAndalus, ed. M. Fierro, Madrid 2004, 415–450. Monferrer-Sala, J.P., Los cristianos arabizados de al-Andalus, in Historia de Andalucía. iii. Andalucía en al-Andalus, dir. M.J. Viguera Molins, Sevilla 2006, 226–234. Monferrer-Sala, J.P., A Nestorian Arabic Pentateuch used in western Islamic lands, in The Bible in Arab Christianity, ed. D. Thomas, Leiden and Boston 2007, 351–368. Monferrer-Sala, J.P., ¿Circularon textos cristianos orientales en al-Andalus? Nuevos datos a partir de una muestra véterotestamentaria andalusí, in ¿Existe una identidad mozárabe? Historia, lengua y cultura de los cristianos de al-Andalus (siglos ix–xii), eds. C. Aillet, M. Penelas, and P. Roisse, Madrid 2008, 167–210. Monferrer-Sala, J.P., Fuentes textuales religiosas árabes-andalusíes en los siglos x y xi: obras islámicas, cristianas y judías, in La Península Ibérica al filo del año 1000. Con-

the arabicized christians in cordoba

375

greso internacional Almanzor y su época (Córdoba, 14–18 de octubre de 2002), ed. J.L. del Pino García, Córdoba 2008, 275–305. Monferrer-Sala, J.P., Acerca de los testimonia biblica contenidos en el Radd ʿalà Ibn Nagrīllah al-Yahūdī, in Iberia Judaica i (2009), 157–198. Monferrer Sala, J.P., Balašq Ibn Ishaq (Ishaq b. Balašq al-Qurṭubī), in Enciclopedia de la cultura andalusí. Biblioteca de al-Andalus. ii, ed. J. Lirola Delgado, Almería 2009, 504–506. Monferrer-Sala, J.P., Between Hellenism and Arabicization. On the formation of an ethnolinguistic identity of the Melkite communities in the heart of Muslim rules, Al-Qanṭara 33 (2012), 445–471. Monferrer-Sala, J.P., Los cristianos de al-Andalus y su estudio, situación y propuestas, in 711–1616: De árabes a moriscos. Una parte de la historia de España, eds. M. Fierro, J. Martos, J.P. Monferrer, and M.J. Viguera, Córdoba 2012, 255–279. Monferrer-Sala, J.P., An Egyptian Arabic witness of the apocryphal epistle to the Laodiceans preserved in the Coptic Orthodox Patriarchate (Cairo), in Journal of Coptic Studies 18 (2016), 57–83. Monferrer-Sala, J.P., Material crítico del texto árabe andalusí de Marcos (Ms. Qarawiyyīn 730). Cotejado con los textos de la familia Ibn Balašk, Córdoba 2016. Monferrer-Sala, J.P., Scripta Theologica Arabica Christiana: Andalusi Christian Arabic Fragments Preserved in Ms. 83 (al-Maktabah al-Malikiyyah, Rabat), diplomatic edition, critical apparatus and indexes, Ribeirao 2016. Monferrer-Sala, J.P., Una perla mozárabe El ms. 730 de la Khizānat al-Qarawiyyīn de Fez y la versión andalusí de los evangelios de la familia Isḥāq b. Balashk al-Qurṭubī, Aula Orientalis 34 (2016), 71–122. Monferrer-Sala, J.P., Tres interferencias hebreas en la traducción árabe andalusí del evangelio de Marcos contenida en el ms. Qarawiyyīn 730, in Collectanea Christiana Orientalia 13 (2016), 279–287. Monferrer-Sala, J.P., Geographica neotestamentica: Adapting place names in Arabic in an Andalusi version of the Gospel of Mark, in Senses of sscripture, treasures of tradition: The Bible in Arabic among Jews, Christians and Muslims, edited by M.L. Hjälm, Leiden and Boston 2017, 370–391. Monferrer-Sala, J.P., Transmitting texts from Latin into Arabic. A Christian culture at risk in the heart of the Islamic rule in al-Andalus, in Arabs, mawlâs and dhimmies: Scribal practices and the social construction of knowledge in Late Antiquity and Medieval Islam, ed. M. Wissa, Leuven 2017, 177–196. Monferrer Sala, J.P., You brood of vipers! Translation and revisions in the Andalusi Arabic version of the Gospels, in Le Muséon 131 (2018), 187–215. Monferrer-Sala, J.P., The fragmentary ninth/tenth century Andalusi Arabic translation of the Epistle to the Galatians revisited (Vat. lat. 12900, olim Seguntinus 150 bc Sigüenza), in Intellectual history of the Islamicate world 7 (2019), 125–191.

376

monferrer-sala

Monferrer-Sala, J.P., Arguing it out! Muslim sources in the hands of an Andalusi Christian polemicist, forthcoming. Monferrer-Sala, J.P. Leipzig Univ. Or. 1059B (olim Codex Tischendorf xxxi B). Fragmento sinaítico de origen andalusí (c. s. IX). Edición diplomática con aparato crítico, traducción y estudio, Madrid: Sindéresis, 2020. Monferrer-Sala, J.P., and P. Mantas-España, De Toledo a Córdoba: Tathlīth al-Waḥdāniyyah (‘La Trinidad de la Unidad’), fragmentos teológicos de un judeoconverso arabizado, Madrid 2018. Monferrer-Sala, J.P., and Ph. Roisse, Una versión árabe andalusí de la ‘Epístola apócrifa a los Laodicenses,’ in Qurṭuba 3 (1998), 113–151. Monferrer-Sala, J.P., and U. Cecini, Once again on Arabic ‘alkaufeit’ (Alb. Ind. 23,14). Between polemics and inculturation, in Mittellateinisches Jahrbuch 49 (2014), 201– 210. Olstein, D., The Mozarabs of Toledo (12th–13th centuries) in historiography, sources, and history, in Die Mozaraber: Definitionen und Perspektiven der Forschung, ed. M. Maser and K. Herbers, Berlin 2011, 151–186. Penelas, M., A possible author of the Arabic translation of Orosius’ Historiae, al-Masāq 13 (2001), 113–135. Potthast, D., Die andalusische Übersetzung des Römerbriefes, in Collectanea Christiana Orientalia 8 (2011), 65–108. Potthast, D., Christen und Muslime im Andalus. Andalusische Christen und ihre Literatur nach religionspolemischen Texten des zehnten bis zwölften Jahrhunderts, Wiesbaden 2013. al-Qūṭī, Ḥafṣ b. Albar, Le Psautier mozarabe de Hafs Le Goth, ed. and French trans. M.T. Urvoy, Toulouse 1994. Reglero de la Fuente, C., Onomástica arabizante y migraciones en el Reino de León (siglos ix–x), in Anthroponymie et migrations dans la chrétienté médiévale, Madrid 2010, 89–104. Rivera Recio, J.F., El adopcionismo en España. Siglo viii: Historia y doctrina, Toledo 1980. Roisse, Ph., Los Evangelios traducidos del latín al árabe por Isḥāq b. Balašk al-Qurṭubī en 946 d.C., in Estudios Árabes. Dedicados a D. Luis Seco de Lucena (En el xxv Aniversario de su muerte), eds. C. Castillo, I. Cortés, and J.P. Monferrer-Sala, Granada 1999, 147–164. Safran, J.M., Identity and differentation in ninth-century al-Andalus, in Speculum 76 (2001), 573–598. Sáinz de Robles, F.C., Elipando y San Beato de Liébana, siglo viii, Madrid 1935. Sarrió Cucarella, D.R., Corresponding across religious borders: The Letter of al-Qūṭī, in Islamochristiana 43 (2017), 149–171. Serrano, D., Dos fetuas sobre la expulsión de mozárabes al Magreb en 1126, in Anaquel de Estudios Árabes 2 (1991), 163–182.

the arabicized christians in cordoba

377

Simonet, F.J., Glosario de voces ibéricas y Latinas usadas entre los mozárabes, precedid de un estudio sobre el dialecto hispano-mozárabe, Madrid 1888. Simonet, F.J., Historia de los mozárabes de España, deducida de los mejores y más auténticos testimonios de los escritores cristianos y árabes, Madrid 1897–1903. Stroumsa, S., Single-source records in the intercommunal life of al-Andalus: The cases of Ibn al-Naghrīla and the Cordoban martyrs, in Intellectual history of the Islamicate world 6 (2018), 223–235. Tieszen, Ch.L., Christian identity amid Islam in Medieval Spain, Leiden and Boston 2013. Tisserant, E., with D. de Bruyne, Une feuille arabo-latine de l’Épitre aux Galates, in Revue Biblique 7 (1910), 321–343. Urvoy, M.-Th., Que nous apprend la poésie árabe des chrétiens d’al-Andalus?, in ¿Existe una identidad mozárabe? Historia, lengua y cultura de los cristianos de al-Andalus (siglos ix–xii), eds. C. Aillet, M. Penelas, and P. Roisse, Madrid 2008, 159–165. Urvoy, M.-Th., Quelle est la part d’originalité dans la production écrite mozárabe, in Die Mozaraber: Definitionen und Perspektiven der Forschung, eds. M. Maser and K. Herbers, Berlin 2011, 65–74. Van Koningsveld, P.Sj., Andalusian-Arabic manuscripts from Christian Spain: A comparative intercultural approach, in Israel oriental studies 12 (1992), 75–110. Van Koningsveld, P.Sj., Christian Arabic literature from medieval Spain: A attempt at periodization, in Christian Arabic apologetics during the Abbasid period (750–1258), eds. S. Khalil Samir and J. Nielsen, Leiden, New York, and Köln 1994, 203–224. Van Koningsveld, P.Sj., Christian-Arabic manuscripts from the Iberian Peninsula and North Africa: A historical interpretation, in Al-Qanṭara 15 (1994), 423–451. Van Koningsveld, P.Sj., The Arabic psalter of Ḥafṣ ibn Albar al-Qûṭî: Prolegomena for a critical edition, Leiden 2016. Wasserstein, D., The library of al-Ḥakam ii al-Mustanṣir and the culture of Islamic Spain, in Manuscripts of the Middle East 5 (1990–1991), 99–105. Yarbrough, L., Did ‘Umar b. ‘Abd al-‘Azīz Issue an Edict Concerning Non-Muslim Officials?, in Christians and Others in the Umayyad State, ed. Antoine Borrut and Fred M. Donner, Chicago il 2016, 173–216.

chapter 16

Faiths in Contact: Santa Clara, an Overlapping Building through Centuries José Ignacio Murillo-Fragero

1

The Church of Santa Clara Convent

The convent of Santa Clara of Cordoba underwent a structural consolidation in the 1960s, which isolated the church from the rest of the religious compound. Since that date, this construction has remained closed and is now in disuse.1 The convent building had two exterior façades, one to the northeast, oriented towards Rey Heredia Street, and the other to the northwest, oriented towards Osio Street (fig. 16.1). However, since its segregation from the rest of the Santa Clara convent, the church now has two new façades, a southeast one facing an inner courtyard and southwest one also oriented towards Osio Street (fig. 16.2). The rectangular ground plan of the building is arranged into two elevated levels with two differentiated bodies. The ground floor of the southern body is organized into three naves with three sections divided by cruciform pillars. The side aisles are covered with barrel vaults and the central nave with ribbed vaults. On the upper floor, the southern body is divided into three naves separated by two arcades, the central one covered with an artesonado ceiling. On the ground floor, the northern body has three naves divided by arcades on marble shafts that support façades with tall windows on the upper floor that open onto the central nave. A tower is located in the north corner and serves to communicate with the two floors, continuing in height above the upper floor.

2

The Discovery of a Mosque

A review of the construction of this building complex demonstrates that, although not in detail, it is the result of a wide sequence of additions from early dates. In the mid-19th century, the church of the convent of Santa Clara was oriented with the altar towards the north of its northern body. The process of

1 See location map in Utrero and Villa in this volume.

© José Ignacio Murillo-Fragero, 2023 | doi:10.1163/9789004524156_017

faiths in contact: santa clara

figure 16.1

379

Ground plan of the convent of Santa Clara after disentailment drawn in 1870 by Amadeo Rodríguez (© Municipal Historical Archive of Cordoba)

disentailment in 1835 and secularization in 1868 permitted the structures to be identified, revealing that the southern body of the complex, a space occupied by the choir, corresponded to the structures of a primitive convent church.2 However, according to sources from as early as the 18th century, the church had been built on top of a former mosque in which rusticated ashlar masonry was used.3 It was not until the end of the 1930s that some features of the original

2 Ramírez y de las Casas-Deza, Indicador cordobés 308–310. 3 Díaz de Ribas, De las Antigüedades y excelencias de Córdoba.

380

figure 16.2

murillo-fragero

Upper (top) and lower (bottom) floors of the church of Santa Clara with the stages of its stratigraphic analysis © Author

building were described more precisely, indicating that the minaret corresponded to the lower body of the current compound’s tower.4 The first in-depth study of the building was carried out in the 1960s within the framework of the consolidation project coordinated by the architect Escribano Ucelay, who aimed to recover the old forms of the monument. Dur-

4 Castejón y Martínez de Arizala, Córdoba califal 282–283.

faiths in contact: santa clara

381

ing this work, he discovered, among other things, that the northern body of the complex corresponded to the courtyard of the mosque, in which two doors opened to the exterior.5 The work of Escribano Ucelay coincided with a series of studies carried out in the third quarter of the 20th century, which proposed that the mosque was built in the last quarter of the 10th century or the beginning of the 11th century during the period in which Almanzor was the ḥājib of Caliph Hishām ii.6 Previously, Ramírez de Arellano had identified the mosque as the one that al-Khushanī mentioned as being that of Abū ‘Uthmān.7 However, Escribano refutes this claim following a reading of al-Maqqarī, who stated that the mosque of Abū ‘Uthmān was located northwest of the royal palace.8 The work carried out at the same time by Pavón Maldonado in the mosque of Madīnat al-Zāhira allowed him to confirm, among other things, that the upper body of the tower of Santa Clara dates from the Christian period and was constructed with bonding and ashlars of identical proportions to the original one. He also noted that during the Christian adaptation the perimeter walls of the mosque were retained, of which courses with narrow joints are preserved, but combined with refurbishments in which false-rusticated ashlars were used, dividing the stretchers with vertical grooves. According to the study, the ground plan of the oratory was arranged in three naves.9 The archaeological excavations carried out in connection with the restoration of the 1960s10 and its subsequent study revealed, on the one hand, the foundations, pavements, and thresholds of a building prior to the mosque, which were interpreted as the remains of a 6th-century Christian basilica11 and, on the other, the mosque foundations. An analysis of the foundations confirmed that the building’s layout corresponded to the characteristics of Umayyad religious architecture and that it was constructed during the last third 5 6

7 8 9 10 11

Escribano Ucelay, Mezquita de la calle Rey Heredia. Torres Balbás (Arte califal 606) dates the minaret at the end of the 10th century or the beginning of the 11th; Escribano Ucelay (Mezquita de la calle Rey Heredia 85) proposes its ascription to the time of Almanzor (when the use of ashlar stretchers increased); Hernández Giménez (El alminar de ʿAbd Al-Rahman iii 203–208) defends a chronology similar to that of the last enlargement of the Aljama Mosque from 976 to 1012; Pavón Maldonado (Alminares cordobeses 205–210) proposes the second half of the 10th century based on the typology of the courtyard door and the rusticated ashlars. Escribano Ucelay, Mezquita de la calle Rey Heredia; Gayangos, The history of the Mohammedan dynasties 172. Pavón Maldonado, Memoria de la excavación de la mezquita de Medinat al-Zahra. Pavón Maldonado, Memoria de la excavación de la mezquita de Medinat al-Zahra. Olmo Enciso, Informe actualizado de la excavación arqueológica. Marfil Ruiz, El templo paleocristiano descubierto 208.

382

murillo-fragero

of the 10th century, as the foundations were sunk into wells filled with manganese green ceramic material. An archaeological analysis also documented that the three naves of the oratory were divided by arcades of five columns each, whose footings are preserved opposite ashlar pilasters in the perimeter walls of the qibla and in the façade of the oratory facing the courtyard. During the work, the arch leading to the miḥrāb niche and part of its alfiz (frame) was discovered.12 The excavation of the extradoses of the vaults in the east end revealed the wooden beams of the mosque’s original roofs, thus permitting the original height of this structure to be documented. The canonical orientation of this perimeter wall is aligned towards the religious center of Mecca, corresponding to southeast Cordoba. However, this aspect is not always complied with rigorously, as evidenced by the Great Mosque,13 whose orientation is the most repeated one in Cordoba from the 8th to the 13th century.14 Santa Clara presents an orientation with an “east tendency” that, according to González Gutiérrez, is the same as that of the Great Mosque of Madīnat al-Zāhira, inaugurated in 941, and as the Great Mosque located in Menéndez Pidal Avenue, neither of which were founded prior to the caliphate.15 In this regard, some researchers have pointed out that Rey Heredia Street lies along an eastern stretch of the cardo of the early imperial city; a fact that could have determined the orientation of these constructions. However, it is a weak argument archaeologically speaking, because we do not know if the cardo still survived in the early Middle Ages.16 Further studies in the 1990s and early 21st century based on archival records have made it possible to determine the chronology of different building works carried out during the process to transform the mosque into a church and convent. The first written reference to the already consecrated church of Santa Catalina dates from 1241 and mentions the existence of some nearby baths in the house of infante don Luis, which could be associated with the mosque. From 1265 to 1268, the charters of endowment of the monastery of Santa Clara and of the convent’s movable goods were granted. The church was transferred by Bishop Fernando de Mesa to the Poor Clares at the time of its foundation.17 The semicircular arches of the oratory’s arcades must correspond to this

12 13 14 15 16 17

Olmo Enciso, Informe actualizado de la excavación arqueológica. Jiménez, La qibla extraviada 190–191. Rius, La alquibla en al-Andalus y al-Magrib al-Aqsà 121. González Gutiérrez, Las mezquitas de barrio de “Madinat Qurtuba” 203–208. Ruiz Bueno, El kardo maximus de Córdoba en la antigüedad tardía 84–87; Ruiz Bueno and González Gutiérrez, De “iglesia” tardoantigua a mezquita califal. Nieto Cumplido, Proyecto cultural de restauración 10.

faiths in contact: santa clara

383

period.18 The ensemble underwent other building work documented in 1381,19 which might have corresponded to the construction of a new church on the site of the courtyard of the mosque and the transformation of the original oratory into a choir. At the beginning of the 16th century, an upper choir was built to accommodate the increasing number of nuns. To this end, a second floor was built, the central nave of which is covered with an octagonal artesonado ceiling at its northern end. This transformation weakened the structure of the lower arches, which required further refurbishment. Finally, the main façade of Rey Heredia Street has a Baroque lintelled portal framed by boxed pilasters with mixtilinear moldings and a keystone bearing a royal coat of arms typical of the 18th century.20 It was probably at this time when the openings of the original body of the mosque and those of the upper choir, the latter with balustraded balconies, were enlarged.21

3

Reviewing the Framework of Building Archaeology

With the aim of reviewing and broadening the knowledge on the extensive sequence of liturgical transformations, functional enlargements, and structural repairs of the church of the convent of Santa Clara, in 2006 an integral study of the church was carried out in the framework of a building archaeology approach.22 This method applies stratigraphic analysis to historical building structures and adapts the recording system to the characteristics of the object of study.23 Building archaeology enables the identification of the sequence of constructive and destructive actions that determine the present appearance of a historic building. For this purpose, stratigraphy is combined with other strat18 19 20 21 22

23

Jordano Barbudo, Arquitectura medieval cristiana en Córdoba 14–20. Villar Movellán, Guía Artística de la Provincia de Córdoba 67. Villar Movellán, Guía Artística de la Provincia de Córdoba 67. Jordano Barbudo, Arquitectura medieval cristiana en Córdoba 14–20. Work directed by L. Caballero (Instituto de Historia, csic), in which a team of archaeologists, art historians, and architects took part, including F. Arce (cchs, csic), J.M. Lucena (ih, csic), R. Martín (upm), I. Monteira (ih, csic), F.J. Moreno (ucm), J.I. Murillo (ih, csic), F. Peláez (ih, csic), Mª. Á. Utrero (MoLAS), and A. Westman (MoLAS). The work was made possible thanks to the planimetric survey carried out by a team of architects, P. Latorre and L. Cámara, and the archival analyses carried out by historians M. Nieto and M.T. Pérez. The project was financed by the Fundación Caja de Madrid. Harris, Principles of archaeological stratigraphy; Caballero and Escribano, Arqueología de la Arquitectura; Martín Morales and de Vega García, Arqueología aplicada al estudio e interpretación de edificios históricos.

384

murillo-fragero

egies, such as typology, the physicochemical analysis of materials, and the examination of historical data in written and graphic documents. Stratigraphic analysis allows us to identify the structures of historic buildings and their pathologies in very small entities or stratigraphic units, which are characterized according to their physical and technical unity, as well as their structural and constructive purpose. The units are thoroughly described and related synchronically and diachronically to reconstruct the temporal sequence of the building. Once the data are recorded for the object of study, the information is synthesized by correlating the stratigraphic units into activities or groups of units that respond to the same purpose or that belong to the same element. To this end, periodized numerical diagrams are created using the four strategies mentioned above. In this way, different stratigraphic units and activities can be located in the same chronological horizon. The church of the convent of Santa Clara was studied using this methodology, permitting six major stages to be identified, some with internal phases that are summarized here for reasons of space. A stage prior to this sequence is also examined in order to include the results of the excavations carried out prior to our study.24 For ease of reading, we dispensed with stratigraphic references and simplified the building’s cardinal orientation. 3.1 Stage 0: Prior Late Roman Urban Planning The archaeological excavation of the site, still in process at the time our study, allowed us to examine the characteristics of the foundations of the original building of the church of Santa Clara and its relationship with previously unearthed architectural remains. Our analysis concludes that this previous evidence corresponds to a domestic building from the late Roman period, thus rejecting the continuist proposal that identifies these structures with a church from the Byzantine period (early 6th century) belonging to the episcopal complex of San Vicente,25 traditionally situated under the Great Mosque. We believe that the iconographic representation of the mosaics and the absence of liturgical furnishings, together with the characteristics of the surviving wall elements, do not allow us to reliably reconstruct the ground plan of a cruciform building.26

24 25 26

Caballero Zoreda, Estudio de Arqueología de la Arquitectura. Marfil Ruiz, El templo paleocristiano descubierto 208. For more on this, see Utrero and Villa in this volume. Also see Caballero Zoreda, “Impacto” del Islam; and Utrero Agudo, Las iglesias cruciformes del siglo vii.

faiths in contact: santa clara

385

Therefore, we do not support the proposal that a building prior to another one dedicated to worship had the same function. This proposal does not take into account that the Islamic building erected in this area of the city did not take advantage of previous structures, nor is it confirmed that the orientation of the building was conditioned by the presence of a fossilized early imperial road.27 The analysis of the mosque foundations (Stage i) indicates that they were set in open ditches in a space previously filled with ruins. There is no direct relationship between this supposed late Roman building, probably from the 6th century but still to be defined more precisely, and the 10th-century mosque, which were built 400, or perhaps more, years apart. In our opinion, the set of remains believed to be a church actually correspond to the sum of remains from various renovations of a domestic ensemble carried out at different moments, which explains the clear variations in the orientation and dimensions of the walls, as well as in the arrangement of the spaces and their decorative elements. 3.2

Stage i: Construction of a Neighborhood Mosque, Caliphal Architecture, End of the 10th Century As mentioned above, the church of the convent of Santa Clara owes its origin to a mosque. The church oratory and the courtyard onto which it opens correspond, respectively, to the base of the southern and northern body of the complex. One of the entrances is located in the western façade of the courtyard, and its minaret in the north angle. The south perimeter wall of the southern body corresponds to the qibla, the liturgical axis of the prayer hall in the center of which is the miḥrāb (fig. 16.3). At present, however, the Islamic remains are not the most clearly preserved section of the building. Only part of the side walls of the mosque remain in a very poor state of conservation. The south perimeter wall and west façade are partially preserved, but the north perimeter wall and east façade have disappeared completely. The body of the miḥrāb, the arcades between its three naves, and the façade that opens onto the courtyard of the prayer hall are not preserved. No features of the courtyard, which integrates the minaret whose top section has disappeared, are retained that allow us to determine its layout. The study of these structures has revealed differences in bonding among the preserved elements in the prayer room, the minaret, and the beginning of the compound’s north perimeter wall, for which there is no stratigraphically certified constructive unit.

27

Ruiz Bueno, El kardo maximus de Córdoba en la antigüedad tardía 87.

386

murillo-fragero

figure 16.3

Perspective from S of the church of the convent of Santa Clara with the medieval stages (Stages ib–iiib) of its stratigraphic analysis © Author

3.2.1 North Perimeter Wall The absence of stratigraphic relations and the differences in bonding oblige us to distinguish the three bond courses preserved in the north perimeter wall from the rest of the structures sequenced in this al-Andalus stage (Stage ia). We do not know the thickness of this wall, which is recognizable only by the inner face of the ensemble. For its construction, smooth limestone ashlars were used, alternating stretchers with one or two headers. The ashlars are slightly longer than those used to build the mosque (1.10 vs. 1.00 m). Typologically, however, the wall can be considered a caliphal construction (fig. 16.4).

faiths in contact: santa clara

figure 16.4

387

Stratigraphic analysis of the N interior façade of the church of the convent of Santa Clara © Author

It is therefore likely that another building was located on this site before the mosque was built. The position of the wall coincides with the north perimeter of the complex, but it is decontextualized from the rest of the courtyard structures, including the minaret, which leads us to suspect that this is an earlier construction. Moreover, according to Pavón Maldonado, the dimensions of the ashlars, which are longer than in the rest of the building, could suggest that the wall belongs to a previous stage in the transition towards smaller dimensions during the caliphate period.28 28

Pavón Maldonado, Memoria de la excavación de la mezquita de Medinat al-Zahra 22.

388

murillo-fragero

In the time that elapsed between the use of this building of unknown function and the construction of the different spaces that define the mosque (Stage ib), the structure of which it formed part was either destroyed or dismantled in a controlled manner. 3.2.2 Minaret Tower The lower body of the current tower is located between the surviving remains of this first building and the oratory of the mosque. Its lateral walls, with a door in the south façade, the central pier, and some of the first steps of the staircase are preserved. Due to its reconstruction or enlargement in a later stage, we have no record of the tower’s height or original finial, if it indeed had one (fig. 16.5). The minaret stands separately from the structure of the mosque; a characteristic that is as common as minarets adjacent or attached to either side.29 However, the ashlar bonding is different, with alternating stretchers of no more than one meter in length and two smooth headers. On the outer corners, there is a chain of three ashlars, equivalent to the thickness of the wall. The ashlars are made of sandstone and carved with a chisel that left fan-shaped marks in the yellow ashlars and vertical and diagonal marks in the grey ones, the latter used mainly in the central pier. Therefore, although we do not have sufficient arguments to certify that the minaret was built at the same time as the mosque, there is no doubt that this structure was the minaret. If it were contemporary, it would oblige us to admit, given the differences observed in its layout and bonding, that it was built by another workshop. 3.2.3 The Mosque Oratory The mosque oratory, with a rectangular ground plan, is delimited by the four perimeter walls of the façade, of which the north one is open to the courtyard. All the walls retain their foundations. The south wall of the qibla is preserved up to its original finial at 7.5 m in height. Inside, in the central section, the recesses in which the decoration of the miḥrāb façade was inserted are maintained, with a horseshoe arch and alfiz that must have led to a deep niche (fig. 16.6). After having been left in ruins and rebuilt at a later date, the eastern wall retains only part of the first course, which is visible from the inside. The western wall is preserved up to the original finial, although it has undergone extensive restoration, and four to eight courses can be observed in the wall’s upper section. Only three courses of the

29

Bloom, Minaret. Symbol of Islam 175.

figure 16.5

Stratigraphic analysis of the E façade of the church of the convent of Santa Clara © Author

faiths in contact: santa clara

389

390

murillo-fragero

north wall are preserved in the inner face of the west end. The façade leading to the prayer room from the courtyard may have been opened with wide arches, but only the course of the entrance threshold remains. The lateral walls had four external buttresses, of which only three remain in the southern wall and two central ones in the façade leading to the courtyard. This prayer room is organized internally into three naves with six sections, each divided by a system of arcades. Only the foundations of five bases of the columns or pillars that divided the naves and for two of the pilasters adjoining the south perimeter wall of this arcade are preserved. These elements supported a wooden ceiling, of which the remains of modillions in the south end of the west and east naves are preserved. The bonding of the walls of this construction were arranged in an alternating stretcher and header pattern, generally one stretcher and two headers, with a smooth inner face and a marked rusticated outer face with false quartering. The ashlars display unfinished pointer carving, except in the corners of the buttresses, which were finished by chiseling, as in the rest of the ashlar face. The stretchers are usually one meter long, although they occasionally exceed this length. 3.2.4 The Mosque Courtyard We have very few references regarding the layout of the mosque courtyard. There is no data about the galleries that must have been located on the east and west sides. We only have material evidence for the section that occupied the northern side, which could have been opened by arches or closed with a possible door adjacent to the minaret. The foundations of the wall parallel to the north perimeter wall and two narrow fragments of this this body are preserved, one at the east end (next to the minaret) and the other at the west end, to which pilasters are attached, apparently of Islamic bonding and which today serve to support the arcades of Stage iii. No original windows or doors have been preserved in the mosque, except for the door opening in the west wall of the courtyard, with a platband, a horseshoe arch carved into the ashlars, and grooves to embed the ornamental alfiz that has now disappeared. There remains some evidence of a similar door opening in the opposite east wall (fig. 16.3). Decorative pieces are practically lacking from this period and have not been reused in the Christian part, aside from the wooden beams of the roof and the capitals preserved in the courtyard, which are dated throughout the 10th century, with the exception of one capital located on the upper floor and ascribed to the first half of the 9th century.30 30

Torres Balbás, Arte califal 667–670; Ramírez Laguna, Estudio Previo 4.

figure 16.6

Stratigraphic analysis of the S interior façade of the church of the convent of Santa Clara © Author

faiths in contact: santa clara

391

392

murillo-fragero

3.3

Stage ii: First Deformations and Ruins of the Mosque and Its Restoration as a Church, Second Half of the 13th Century The pathological diagnosis integrated with the stratigraphic sequence of the church of the convent of Santa Clara shows that the general ground movements affecting the construction were mainly due to the faulty design of the foundation, which caused greater ground strain than the structure was capable of withstanding.31 The detected displacements affected all the historical phases of the ensemble and altered all the constructive elements that had been added or repaired. However, it can be concluded that most of these ground movements were controlled, probably by consolidating the terrain to make it more resistant and stable. 3.3.1 Transformation into a Church The effects of this deformation date from an early period. Several of the mosque structures were affected, such as its eastern perimeter, which was rebuilt in Stage ii for conversion into a church. The new façade includes four buttresses and six windows, two per stretch, which are only recognizable in the inner face of the wall. The ruinous state caused by these movements must have also affected the façade of the mosque facing the courtyard, which was reconstructed. In the new façade three passages were opened; one per nave. The openings were made using semicircular arches with buttresses between them. Only the elevation up to the extradoses of the voussoirs and the lower half of the four buttresses of this reconstruction have survived (fig. 16.7). Later refurbishments conceal other effects of these early ground movements, such as those affecting the arcades and the roof of the mosque, which subsequently would be rebuilt in Stage iii. The ashlars employed in these new building works were made of reused material and therefore fitted with thick joints. The length of the ashlars is shorter than in the previous stage, around 80cm, and present chiselled carvings with narrow diagonal marks. The Castilian bonding can also be distinguished from the former one by the presence of quarry marks, absent in the previous stages, which may explain the heterogeneity of the bonding. On the one hand, the buttresses of the eastern façade of the new church employ stretchers with double headers, while the inner wall of the façade alternates a header with two superimposed stretchers to achieve its same height. On the other hand, the façade facing the courtyard is built with a double-leaf wall of ashlar masonry,

31

Martín Talaverano, Cámara Muñoz, and Murillo Fragero, Análisis integrado de construcciones históricas.

figure 16.7

Stratigraphic analysis of the N façade of the wall between the eastern and western sections of the church of the convent of Santa Clara © Author

faiths in contact: santa clara

393

394

murillo-fragero

in no particular order. These characteristics also differ from the bonding of the upper body of the tower and correspond to Stage ii. Sometime after this stage, a narrow door was opened east of the miḥrāb niche, which modified the characteristics of the qibla and could be associated with the dismantling of the decorative elements of the alfiz and the entrance arch to the miḥrāb (fig. 10.6). The stratigraphic sequence, the typological characteristics, and the archival records on the endowment of the monastery of Santa Clara mentioned above indicate that these reforms were carried out after 1265. 3.3.2 The New Tower The ground movements described above also affected the different phases of the tower; a phenomenon that does not seem to have been controlled since, even though the twist rotation is smaller, it is also observed in the upper section.32 Previous studies attribute these deformations to seismic effects; the reason for the tower’s state of ruin and the subsequent reconstruction of the upper section.33 The exterior bonding of the new tower alternates a stretcher with one or two headers, as we described for the eastern wall of the room (figs. 10.3 and 10.5), while small ashlar pieces are used for the interior bonding. The external angles are joined by two stretchers. In this stage, the tower presents a system of tall windows and doors. The doors are located in the south and west walls of the tower and lead to high habitable bodies in this section. At this time, arrow slits were cut into the ashlars in the tower’s lower part. 3.4

Stage iii: New Deformations and Reforms to Maintain the Late Medieval Convent, Last Third of the 14th Century and the 15th Century 3.4.1 The Preserved Remains of a New Northern Body A new deformation of the north perimeter wall led to its reconstruction (Stage iiia), with an ashlar and rammed earth wall observable in the west corner. The wall combines narrow courses of around 20cm high with larger courses carved from reused material (fig. 10.3). The perimeter wall has a large segmental arch of plaster-finished, bevelled-edged brick, the depth and function of which we do not know. The construction of this northern façade includes a square-shaped

32 33

Martín Talaverano, Cámara Muñoz, and Murillo Fragero, Análisis integrado de construcciones históricas. Ramírez Laguna and de la Fuente Darder, Proyecto de consolidación y restauración 8–9.

faiths in contact: santa clara

395

section in the northwest corner of the courtyard arranged into three levels. On the lower level there are two door openings, one with a pointed arch in the south interior façade of the north body and another exterior one with alfiz molding in the west façade (fig. 16.4), which has largely been hidden by contemporary restorations (Stage vi). 3.4.2 Monastic Enlargement of the Church According to Nieto and the scarce documentary evidence, the reforms to adapt the church to its monastic function must have been carried out around 1380.34 This entailed the most important structural transformation of the entire ensemble and included the vault system and two floors, the lower of which was used as a church and the upper one for dormitories (Stage iiib). To do so, the inside of the room was dismantled, if it had not been before, and the artesonado and roof of the mosque were replaced. The new vaulting of the ground floor was built over three three-section naves with arches attached to the perimeter walls, ribbed arches, and supporting arches. The side aisles supported barrel vaults and the central nave false ribbed vaults. This system permitted the construction of an upper level with three naves separated by an arcade with round arches (figs. 16.3, 16.6, and 16.8). The work is contemporaneous with the construction of the lower courtyard galleries of square-framed, round-stilted arches and is integrated into the upper part of the façade facing the church courtyard (fig. 16.8). It is also contemporaneous with the infilling of the large segmental arch of the northern perimeter wall, thus stabilizing the notable deformation that affected the arch shortly after construction and allowed the wall to be rebuilt above it (fig. 16.4). These transformations therefore created two distinct spaces. The body of the church is solid, heavy, and dark, especially on the ground floor. In contrast, the courtyard is diaphanous and slender and differs technologically from the interior building work. Both are related to different constructive traditions and were built by stonemasons and bricklayers. The stonemasons carved the pieces for the pillars and the arches in a context where the reused ashlars from the alAndalus period began to become scarce. The bricklayers erected the arches of the courtyard but also built the sail and barrel vaults of the church. The bonding of the pillars and arches of the lower section, attached to the perimeter walls, have alternating bands of brick (verdugadas) and masonry courses as a common feature. Different workshops thus collaborated together to completely transform the building’s interior.

34

Nieto Cumplido, Proyecto cultural de restauración 21.

figure 16.8

Stratigraphic analysis of the E longitudinal arcade of the church of the convent of Santa Clara © Author

396 murillo-fragero

faiths in contact: santa clara

397

Prior to the next stage, probably due to a new displacement in the eastern third section of the church, the eastern arcade of the upper floor suffered structural damage, which required it to be replaced with a new one (Stage iiic). The new arcade employs slightly pointed arches typical of the second half of the 15th century (fig. 16.8). These works included the reconstruction of the upper part of the buttresses of the eastern façade and the reinforcement of the vault system on the ground floor of the church by bending the ribbed arches of the eastern nave (fig. 16.6). 3.5 Stage iv: Baroque Transformation, Second Half of the 18th Century As in the previous stages, the Baroque intervention had two aims: one for restoration purposes and the other functional. The restoration suffered from repeated problems of stability in the building aggravated by the new vaulting system (Stage iii) and the deterioration caused by the humidity in the bases of the pillars and the eastern façade. Possibly to improve the poor condition of the church, the direction of worship was reoriented during the functional reform by moving the altar to the northern end of the courtyard and converting the previous church’s room into a choir. Therefore, the building underwent a profound transformation that resulted in the disappearance of all its medieval features. In this new church, an eastern façade was built facing the street, with a segmental-arched door framed by double pilasters and flanked by rectangular windows with a crossetted frame (fig. 16.5). Inside, the galleries above the arcades of the church were recomposed using walls with three projecting balustraded balconies (fig. 16.8). However, due to the dismantling work carried out in the contemporary stages, features that would determine the final personality of the building are not preserved, such as its ornamentation, the predella of the new eastern end of the temple, and the altarpiece that decorated it; the latter, a work by Sánchez Sandoval (1768) and now preserved in the church of San Basilio.35 Nor does the roof of its central nave survive; a wooden framework that must have covered a false vault.36 At this time, a small crypt covered with a brick vault was built beneath the floor in front of the presbytery (fig. 16.2). The refurbishment of the choir must have entailed the external reinforcement of its eastern perimeter by attaching another wall and enlarging the buttresses (fig. 16.5). The interior was also reinforced by the vaulting system of its

35 36

Raya Raya, El retablo barroco cordobés 98. Ramírez Laguna, Estudio Previo 18.

398

murillo-fragero

eastern nave, blinding the entrance of light and ventilation in the choir and opening skylights or vents in the vaults. Finally, according to the data from the stratigraphic sequence, a rafter and collar-beam artesonado ceiling was erected in the central nave of the choir loft at this time. The ceiling has seven paired beams resting on corbels with interlacing laths that form alternating crossed-blade and eight-pointed star patterns. The ceiling’s features allow us to deduce that it is a reused structure typical of the 16th century that was adapted to its new location.37 The structure maintains only one of the original ends, the north one, which is octagonal in shape. The other terminates in a straight line at the southern perimeter wall of the central nave (fig. 10.8). 3.6

Stage v: Disentailment and Contemporary Adaptations, Second Half of the 19th Century and Early 20th Century From the secularization of the convent until the mid-20th century (from 186838 to 196239), the church was used as a barracks for a short time until it again recovered, albeit not for long, its function as a convent. The works attributed to these uses can be considered utilitarian and for maintenance, without concessions to aesthetics. The church was dismantled and the courtyard space was recovered, and the new community was formed with a small chapel, the location of which we do not know. The courtyard became a welcoming space. Below the eastern gallery are two partitions that permit the creation of a vestibule with a reception area and the insertion of a stairwell that led to the rooms on the upper level. Light was brought into the lower choir again by opening three large windows in the eastern nave (fig. 16.5), which replaced the double arches attached to the inner wall of the façade (Stage iii) with a single basket arch in each section. The miḥrāb niche of the original mosque was also transformed into a door with an iron lintel at this time (fig. 16.6). 3.7

Stage vi: The Discovery of the Mosque, Elimination of Modern Building Works, and Consolidation Works, Second Half of the 20th Century The 20th-century restoration is the most radical transformation that the building has undergone. At this time all the decorative features of the Baroque

37 38 39

Jordano Barbudo, Arquitectura medieval cristiana en Córdoba 20. Nieto Cumplido, Proyecto cultural de restauración 36. Pérez Cano, Restauración de la Iglesia del Antiguo Convento de Santa Clara de Córdoba 49.

faiths in contact: santa clara

399

period and what still survived from previous times were eliminated, as well as superimposed elements for which there are few records. The four architectural interventions that we have documented during this contemporary stage were carried out according to very different and contradictory criteria, without any of them having managed to complete the intervention in 40 years. The sequence of interventions began with the aforementioned project by Víctor Escribano Ucelay. With municipal financing, he worked from 1962 to 1968 and discovered and isolated the mosque of the convent. This intervention entailed blinding entire doors and windows on the western façade, which now prevents us from knowing the moment to which the substituted openings could have belonged (fig. 16.3). This work was followed by the intervention carried out by Félix Hernández Giménez under the auspices of the Ministry of Culture from 1971 to 1973. His work aimed to recover the appearance of the original mosque, which had lost its ashlar stretcher and header bonds in numerous elevations. To do so, he recreated ashlars using a sandy mortar with a white cement base. He also consolidated the roof of the upper floor of the western nave by installing a metal structure with braces (fig. 16.6). Ten years later, the city council again took interest in Santa Clara and put the architect Arturo Ramírez Laguna in charge of various projects. From 1981 to 2003 he was responsible for several archaeological excavations. His study of the temple allowed him to detect that, as a result of the strain affecting the building, the four cruciform pillars in the center of the room presented constructive damage and severed materials. For this reason, among other interventions, he underpinned the tie beams of the ground-floor foundations and filled in the arches with hollow brick, thus reinforcing the pillars (fig. 16.8).40

4

Concluding Remarks

The mosque was an outstanding feature of the urban layout of the medieval Islamic city which, together with the Aljama Mosque, boasted a network of oratories that articulated the urban fabric of the medina and the suburbs. In Cordoba, neighborhood mosques became a common construction following the proclamation of the caliphate.41 As González Gutiérrez has pointed out, these mosques should perhaps be defined as secondary or minor in comparison to the Aljama Mosque.42 40 41 42

Caballero Zoreda, Estudio de Arqueología de la Arquitectura 179–225. Murillo Redondo, Casal García, and Castro del Río, Madinat Qurtuba. González Gutiérrez, Las mezquitas de barrio de “Madinat Qurtuba” 18.

400

murillo-fragero

The function and times of these places of worship, where people gathered for social, economic, and even political purposes, were a mainstay of the community and determined the architectural configuration of the neighborhoods. Mosques were often located near other urban infrastructures, such as baths or cemeteries.43 In al-Andalus, mosques were financed by the family of the reigning monarch and his most immediate followers, as reflected in 10th- and 11th-century written sources, with direct references, such as those of Ibn Hayyan, Ibn Sahl, or Ibn Baskuwal, some of which even provide details of their location.44 They are pious foundations that in most cases owe their construction, maintenance, or reconstruction to donations.45 Al-Maqqarī speaks of the 490 mosques built during ‘Abd al-Raḥmān i’s reign, which would grow to 3,877 under al-Ḥakam ii.46 In Cordoba, the Umayyad family promoted the construction of numerous mosques in neighborhoods that, despite our unequal knowledge of them, seem to have all the characteristic elements in most cases.47 The historical evolution of urban spaces and the transformations they underwent equally affected mosques that became churches; a mutation that took place in both the major mosques and the minor mosques. The Castilian church of Santa Clara is a building that underwent a process of adaptation spanning from the height of the medieval period to the beginning of the modern age. There is no “Romanesque,” “Gothic,” or “Mudejar” church as such, but rather elements that repair, replace, or superimpose other features or the architectural space defined by the mosque. Due to the reuse of previous structural elements, the church’s design bears no resemblance to any of the churches that were being built in Cordoba at the same time during the second half of the 14th century, such as the those of San Hipólito, San Pedro el Real, or perhaps also San Agustín. This group of Gothic buildings coexists with the Mudejar style, of which Santa Clara shows no influence, with the exception of the tracery of the painted skirting boards still preserved in the original oratory that was converted into a church. Later alterations may have resulted in the disappearance of all traces of the church’s Mudejar decorations. The stratigraphic analysis of Santa Clara also shows a bonding typology comprising three main types: ashlar, brick, and verdugada. The ashlar bond-

43 44 45 46 47

Fournier, Origine et developpement du bain 202–208. Casal García et al., Espacios y usos funerarios en la qurtuba islámica 274–277. González Gutiérrez, Las mezquitas de barrio de “Madinat Qurtuba” 57–68. García Sanjuan, Hasta que Dios herede la tierra 170. García Gómez, Notas sobre la topografía cordobesa en los ‘Anales de Al-Hakam ii.’ Souto, La mezquita.

faiths in contact: santa clara

401

ing maintains the Muslim stretcher and header pattern until the 18th century. In the Christian stretcher and header arrangement, the precise fit of the ashlars is lost, for which small wedges are required. Moreover, the same technique is not used on both wall faces: the main wall face is left exposed, while the interior face has a less systematic pattern of ashlars or the verdugada technique is used. A variant of this type of ashlar masonry is used to build rammed-earth walls with skirting and chained ashlars. Another variant also combines narrow courses with others of reused Islamic material. The use of brick and verdugada appear in the last quarter of the 14th century and are maintained in a fairly uniform manner for another 400 years, alternating the brick bands with simple stone courses; a combination that was also used initially in the arches. The 20th-century restoration aimed to imitate these bonds with poor materials and hence little success (fig. 16.9). In conclusion, none of these buildings, either the Islamic, Christian, or Baroque, can be understood today without a proper analysis. The current construction does not correspond to the image of any one of them, perhaps with the paradoxical exception of the late 14th-century vaulted building. In order to understand and imagine the structures comprising this sequence, they must be reconstructed through research; a task which is made even more difficult due to the disappearance of their decorative elements.

402

figure 16.9

murillo-fragero

Sequential typology of the bonding documented in the church of the convent of Santa Clara © Author

faiths in contact: santa clara

403

Bibliography Primary Sources Caballero Zoreda, L., Estudio de Arqueología de la Arquitectura del Convento de Santa Clara de Córdoba, Madrid 2007, unpublished report. Nieto Cumplido, M., Proyecto cultural de restauración de la iglesia del ex-convento de Santa Clara. Memoria histórica (1241–1499), Córdoba 2006, unpublished report. Olmo Enciso, L., Informe actualizado de la excavación arqueológica en la antigua iglesia de Santa Clara de Córdoba, Córdoba 1993, unpublished report. Pérez Cano, Mª.T., Restauración de la Iglesia del Antiguo Convento de Santa Clara de Córdoba. La puesta en valor del Convento de Santa Clara, Córdoba 2007, unpublished report. Ramírez Laguna, A., and F. de la Fuente Darder, Proyecto de consolidación y restauración de la antigua mezquita de Santa Clara en calle Rey Heredia nº 22, Córdoba 1981, unpublished report. Ramírez Laguna, A., Estudio Previo. Antigua Iglesia de Santa Clara de Córdoba, Córdoba 1993, unpublished report.

Secondary Sources Aljoxani, Historia de los Jueces de Córdoba, trans. J. Ribera, Madrid 1914. Bloom, J., Minaret. Symbol of Islam, Oxford 1989. Caballero, L., and C. Escribano (eds.), Arqueología de la Arquitectura. El método arqueológico aplicado al proceso de estudio y de intervención en edificios históricos (Burgos, Serie Actas), Salamanca 1996. Caballero Zoreda, L., “Impacto” del islam en la arquitectura cristiana que se conservó o se construyó en al-Ándalus (o bajo dominio musulmán), in A. Jiménez, De Hispalis a Isbiliya, Sevilla 2009, 14–58. Casal García, Mª.T., A. León Muñoz, R. López, A. Valdivieso Ramos, and P.J. Soriano Castro, Espacios y usos funerarios en la qurtuba islámica, in Anales de Arqueología Cordobesa 17 (2006), 257–290. Castejón y Martínez de Arizala, R., Córdoba califal, Boletín de la Real Academia de Ciencias, Bellas letras y Nobles artes de Córdoba 8 (1929), 255–339. Díaz de Ribas, P., De las Antigüedades y excelencias de Córdoba, Libro primero, Discurso i, Córdoba 1627. Escribano Ucelay, V., Mezquita de la calle Rey Heredia, in Al-Mulk 4 (1964–1965), 83–101. Fournier, C., Origine et developpement du bain en al-andalus et au maghrib (viiie–xie siècles). Sources et difficultes d’approche, in P. Sènac (ed.), La Maghreb, al-Andalus et la Méditerranée occidentale (viiie–xiiie siècle), Toulouse 2007, 201–215. García Gómez, E., Notas sobre la topografía cordobesa en los ‘Anales de Al-Hakam ii’ por Isa Razi, in Al-Andalus 30 (1965), 319–379.

404

murillo-fragero

García Sanjuan, A., Hasta que Dios herede la tierra: los bienes habices de Al-Andalus (siglos x–xv), Huelva 2002. Gayangos, P., The history of the Mohammedan dynasties in Spain, vol. 2, London 1843. González Gutiérrez, C., Las mezquitas de barrio de “Madinat Qurtuba”: una aproximación arqueológica, Córdoba 2012. Harris, E.C., Principles of archaeological stratigraphy, London 1979. Hernández Giménez, F., El alminar de ʿAbd Al-Rahman iii en la mezquita mayor de Córdoba. Génesis y repercusiones, Granada 1975. Jiménez, A., La qibla extraviada, in Cuadernos de Madinat al-Zahra 3 (1991), 189–209. Jordano Barbudo, Mª.Á., Arquitectura medieval cristiana en Córdoba. (Desde la Reconquista al inicio del Renacimiento), Córdoba 1996. Marfil Ruiz, P., El templo paleocristiano descubierto en la antigua iglesia del convento de Santa Clara, de Córdoba, in Boletín de la Real Academia de Córdoba de Ciencias, Bellas Letras y Nobles Artes 131 (1996), 197–210. Martín Morales, C., and E. de Vega García (coords.), Arqueología aplicada el estudio e interpretación de edificios históricos. Últimas tendencias metodológicas, Madrid 2010. Martín Talaverano, R., L. Cámara Muñoz, and J.L. Murillo Fragero, Análisis integrado de construcciones históricas: secuencia estratigráfica y diagnóstico patológico. Aplicación en la iglesia de Santa Clara (Córdoba), in Arqueología de la Arquitectura 15 (2018), 1–29. Murillo Redondo, J.F., Mª.T. Casal García, and E. Castro del Río, Madinat Qurtuba. Aproximación al proceso de formación de la ciudad emiral y califal a partir de la información arqueológica, in Cuadernos de Medinat al-Zahra 5 (2004), 257–290. Pavón Maldonado, B., Memoria de la excavación de la mezquita de Medinat al-Zahra, in Excavaciones Arqueológicas en España 50 (1966), 21–23. Pavón Maldonado, B., Alminares cordobeses, in Boletín de la Asociación Española de Orientalistas 12 (1976), 181–210. Ramírez y de las Casas-Deza, L.Mª., Indicador cordobés o sea Manual histórico-topográfico de la ciudad de Córdoba, Córdoba 1867. Raya Raya, Mª.A., El retablo barroco cordobés, Córdoba 1987. Rius, M., La alquibla en al-Andalus y al-Magrib al-Aqsà, Barcelona 2000. Ruiz Bueno, M., El kardo maximus de córdoba en la antigüedad tardía, in Anales de Arqueología Cordobesa 25–26 (2014–2015), 83–114. Ruiz Bueno, M., and C. González Gutiérrez, De “iglesia” tardoantigua a mezquita califal. Revisión arqueológica de las estructuras conservadas en la calle Rey Heredia 20, Cordoba, in Munibe 68 (2017), 251–272. Souto, J.A., La mezquita: definición de un espacio, in Revista de ciencia de las religiones, Anejos 10 (2004), 103–109. Torres Balbás, L., Arte califal, in R. Menéndez Pidal (ed.), Historia de España, vol. 5, Madrid 1957, 603–606.

faiths in contact: santa clara

405

Utrero Agudo, Mª.Á., Las iglesias cruciformes del siglo vii en la Península Ibérica. Novedades y problemas cronológicos y morfológicos de un tipo arquitectónico, in L. Caballero Zoreda, P. Mateos Cruz, and Mª.Á. Utrero Agudo (coords.), El siglo vii frente al siglo vii. Arquitectura (Visigodos y omeyas, 4), Madrid 2009, 133–154. Villar Movellán, A., Guía Artística de la Provincia de Córdoba, Córdoba 1995.

General Bibliography for the Chapter Caballero, L., and C. Escribano (eds.), Arqueología de la Arquitectura. El método arqueológico aplicado al proceso de estudio y de intervención en edificios históricos (Burgos, Serie Actas), Salamanca 1996. Caballero Zoreda, L., Estudio de Arqueología de la Arquitectura del Convento de Santa Clara de Córdoba, Madrid 2007, unpublished report. Caballero Zoreda, L., “Impacto” del islam en la arquitectura cristiana que se conservó o se construyó en al-Ándalus (o bajo dominio musulmán), in A. Jiménez (ed.), De Hispalis a Isbiliya, Sevilla 2009, 14–58. Casal García, Mª.T., A. León Muñoz, R. López, A. Valdivieso Ramos, and P.J. Soriano Castro, Espacios y usos funerarios en la qurtuba islámica, in Anales de Arqueología Cordobesa 17 (2006), 257–290. Escribano Ucelay, V., Mezquita de la calle Rey Heredia, in Al-Mulk 4 (1964–1965), 83–101. García Sanjuan, A., Hasta que Dios herede la tierra: los bienes habices de Al-Andalus (siglos x–xv), Huelva 2002. González Gutiérrez, C., Las mezquitas de barrio de “Madinat Qurtuba”: una aproximación arqueológica, Córdoba 2012. Harris, E.C., Principles of archaeological stratigraphy, London 1979. Jordano Barbudo, Mª.Á., Arquitectura medieval cristiana en Córdoba. (Desde la Reconquista al inicio del Renacimiento), Córdoba 1996. Martín Morales, C., and E. de Vega García (coords.), Arqueología aplicada el estudio e interpretación de edificios históricos. Últimas tendencias metodológicas, Madrid 2010. Martín Talaverano, R., L. Cámara Muñoz, L., and J.I. Murillo Fragero, Análisis integrado de construcciones históricas: secuencia estratigráfica y diagnóstico patológico. Aplicación en la iglesia de Santa Clara (Córdoba), Arqueología de la Arquitectura 15 (2018), 1–29. Murillo Redondo, J.F., Mª.T. Casal García, and E. Castro del Río, Madinat Qurtuba. Aproximación al proceso de formación de la ciudad emiral y califal a partir de la información arqueológica, in Cuadernos de Medinat al-Zahra 5 (2004), 257– 290. Pavón Maldonado, B., Alminares cordobeses, in Boletín de la Asociación Española de Orientalistas 12 (1976), 181–210.

chapter 17

Literature in Qurṭuba Pedro Buendía

The literary history of Islamic Cordoba is by no means poor. Over its lengthy five centuries of Muslim history and, most especially, during its almost three centuries as the capital of al-Andalus, the city attracted dozens of poets, scholars, and belletrists in search of fame and fortune. Qurṭuba, which would be called “the ornament of the world,” according to Hrotsvitha of Gandersheim’s celebrated description (10th century), became one of the most important and sought-after literary courts in the Islamic world. In the late 10th century it was one of the most densely populated cities in Western Europe, with a great abundance of shops and merchants. Qurṭuba was also a pioneer in Europe in the areas of economy, cottage industry, and agriculture and had one of the most important libraries in the entire Islamic West. Such a distinguished atmosphere in such a thriving city could not but afford an excellent breeding ground for the arts. From ʿAbd al-Raḥmān i to al-Ḥakam ii, chroniclers unanimously underline the cultural wealth and spirit of curiosity that characterized each and every Umayyad leader who ruled in Spain. Many of them amateur poets, Andalusi emirs and caliphs acted as tireless patrons of the arts, drawing intellectuals, men of letters, and scholars to the court and granting them official status and a regular stipend. Thus, the literary history of Cordoba includes certain outstanding names, such as Ibn Zaydūn, Ibn Shuhayd, or Ibn Ḥazm, who have become part of folk legacy and rank high in universal literature. Nevertheless, Cordoba was also the backdrop for intense and sustained literary activity amid which many other men of letters flourished, whose works and memory fared unequally.

1

From the Conquest to the End of the Emiral Period (711–929)

Although the history of Muslim Cordoba begins with it becoming the capital city in 716, the beginning of its literary history takes place a little later. Historical sources convey relatively scarce literary information from the early days to the times of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii. Several reasons have been given to explain this marked lack of literary texts and documents from the first century of alAndalus: first, the slow process of Arabization, which did not advance stead-

© Pedro Buendía , 2023 | doi:10.1163/9789004524156_018

literature in qurṭuba

407

ily until the 9th century and was not consolidated on solid grounds until the 10th century, must have played a decisive influence on intellectual and literary production. Secondly, the volume of historic documentation available for the times of the conquest and the early stages of the emirate is noticeably smaller and weaker than that corresponding to subsequent periods, especially after the proclamation of the caliphate in 929. Likewise, the earliest anthologies preserved are late, since they date back to at least the early 11th century and do not address these early times or, if so, only superficially.1 Finally, it has been noted that the lengthy process that led to the political, economic, and institutional stability of al-Andalus runs parallel to the creation and development of Andalusi culture, which during its first century of history would have been in its embryonic state and in the midst of the arduous process of assimilation and synthesis of Eastern Arabic and Islamic culture. Indeed, this formative phase, which has been conventionally dated between the years 716 (Cordoba as capital city) and 929 (establishment of the caliphate), fully coincides with the golden century of Abbasid literature, both in prose and poetry. This could explain why the literary documents produced during this first Andalusi period, which was still being shaped, mindful of its Eastern Islamic cultural model, are so fragmentary, scarce, and scattered. The first literary evidence preserved, still faithful to the aesthetics and forms of classical models, are some poetry fragments that historical sources and anthologies have attributed to prominent figures, such as emirs, rulers, and men of arms, and which talk about the events and circumstances of the time: conquering expeditions, military campaigns, tribal and civil disputes, court incidents, panegyrics, self-praise, and episodes in the lives of dignitaries.2 Perhaps the most celebrated of these fragments are the verses by the first emir, ʿAbd al-Raḥmān (756–788), devoted to a palm tree—a species that, according to legend, he himself introduced into the peninsula—in yearning for his homeland, Syria. A palm tree stands in the middle of Rusafa, Born in the West, far from the land of palms. I said to it: How like me you are, far away and in exile, In long separation from family and friends.

1 Mainly Ibn al-Kattānī (11th century), al-Tashbīhāt; and henceforth (12th century) Ibn Bassām, al-Dhakhīra; Ibn Khāqān, Maṭmaḥ al-anfus; Ibn Khāqān, Qalāʾid al-ʿiqyān. About the anthologies of Andalusi literature, see Terés, Ibn Faraŷ de Jaén; Garulo, La literatura árabe de al-Ándalus 13–25. 2 See ʿAbbās, Tārīkh 92–106.

408

buendía

You have sprung from soil in which you are a stranger; And I, like you, am far from home.3 The first renowned poet born in al-Andalus, who seems to have flourished in Cordoba, was Abū l-Makhshī al-Tamīmī, the official panegyrist of Emir ʿAbd alRaḥmān i. Barely a few fragments of his work have been preserved, alongside a discontinuous series of anecdotes about his unfortunate life, which illustrates the random fate of many of the poets who earned their living in the palatial world: a sharp-tongued master of satire, he made the mistake of expressing his views too strongly in the dynastic dispute between the emir’s sons, Sulaymān and Hishām, dedicating offensive verses to the latter, which is why his eyes were gouged out and his tongue cut off. Judging from the testimonials about his works, Abū l-Makhshī seems to have been an accomplished poet, who was still true to the rules of classical eastern poetry.4 It is not until the time of al-Ḥakam i (796–822) and, especially, that of his son and heir ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii (822–852) that a literature that could be specifically termed as Andalusi emerges in Cordoba. ʿAbbās b. Nāṣiḥ (ca. 852) had already distinguished himself as an outstanding poet and faqīh in the court of al-Ḥakam i. Also a scientist, astronomer, and boon companion and advisor to the emir, he introduced the aesthetics and forms of modernist poetry into al-Andalus and was one of the leading figures in the first cultural blooming in Umayyad Cordoba; although, unfortunately, his works have been lost and only dispersed fragments remain.5 However, it was during the time when his successor ʿAbd al- Raḥmān ii was emir (822–852), a period marked by its prosperity, length, and stability, that arts and literary life really flourished in Cordoba. The influence of Abbasid cultural fads and standards became noticeable in every sphere of his reign. Cultural contact with the East brought new literary trends and tastes, and the poetry school of the modernists (muḥdathūn),6 in particular, began to leave its mark on the literary activity of al-Andalus. The well-known musician Ziryāb (789– 857), a disciple of Isḥāq al-Mawṣilī, the greatest musician and singer at the court of Hārūn al-Rashīd, had emigrated to the court of Cordoba. He was instrumental in the enrichment and development of culture, creating the Andalusi 3 Translation by D.F. Ruggles, cited in Menocal, The ornament of the world 58. 4 Terés, Abū-l-Majšī. Makki, Aportaciones [1st part] 135. Gallega Ortega, Abū l-Majšī, in ba, i 48. 5 Forcada, Ibn Nāṣiḥ, ʿAbbās, in ba, iv 325. Lévi-Provençal, ʿAbbās b. Nāṣiḥ, in ei2. Terés, ʿAbbās b. Nāṣiḥ. Forcada, Astronomy, astrology and the sciences of the ancients. 6 On oriental modernist poetry and its opposition to classical poetry, see Van Gelder, Muḥdathūn. Schoeler, Muḥdathūn, ‘the moderns’ 545–546; Heinrichs, Ancients and moderns 90– 91.

literature in qurṭuba

409

school of music and importing numerous trends and rules of etiquette from Baghdad. A man of vast and refined culture, he soon became Emir ʿAbd alRaḥmān ii’s boon companion and favorite, as well as the true arbitrator of elegance in the Cordoban court, where his influence was decisive at all levels: musical, aesthetic, social, and literary.7 This enterprising and cultured emir, an astrology enthusiast and advocate of the arts and science, surrounded himself with a select group of refined courtly poets who competed against each other for the sovereign’s favor. Many of them were also astrologers and men of science. Noteworthy among them is Ibn alShamir, close to the emir and his chamber astrologer, of whose works only fragments have been preserved—mainly of a laudatory nature dedicated to his master.8 Likewise, only a few remnants have survived of the poetry composed by other court poets who flourished in the court of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii and continued in the service of his son Muḥammad i (852–886), such as Muʾmin b. Saʿīd (d. 881), who introduced the poetry of Abū Tammām and was a sharptongued and mordant poet.9 The figure of ʿAbbās b. Firnās (d. 887) also deserves special attention: a poet, astrologer, musician, and inventor, called “the wise man of al-Andalus” (Ḥakīm al-Andalus) by the historian Ibn Ḥayyān, he was the protagonist, according to legend, of the first flight made by man after throwing himself from a tower with a pair of wings made with feathers that he had fabricated.10 His poetry, mostly laudatory, of which very little has been preserved, allowed him to maintain the position of the official poet of the Cordoban court throughout the rule of three emirs. Perhaps the greatest poet of this period was Yaḥyā b. Ḥakam al-Bakrī (772– 865), nicknamed al-Ghazāl (The Gazelle) for his extraordinary handsomeness and elegance. A man of great culture and refinement, he started his career in the service of Emir al-Ḥakam i and became one of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii’s favorite fellow guests and poets, being sent on a celebrated mission to Emperor Theophilos of Byzantium, where he had a sensational effect. Al-Ghazāl is one of the few poets of the time whose work has been sufficiently preserved to acquire a full idea of his poetry: satirical, witty, audacious, and libertine, he mastered 7 8 9

10

About Ziryab, see Farmer and Neubauer, Ziryāb. Reynolds, Music 64–66. Ibn Ḥayyān, Crónica de los emires Alḥakam i y ʿAbdarraḥmān ii 193–215. Terés, Ibn al-Šamir. Rius, Ibn al-Šamir, in ba v, 231. Ibn Ḥayyān, Crónica de los emires Alḥakam i y ʿAbdarraḥmān ii 216–222. Terés, Muʾmin ibn Saʿīd. Aragón Huerta, Ibn Saʿīd, Muʾmin, in ba v, 126. Makki, Aportaciones [2nd part] 78. Ibn Ḥayyān, Crónica de los emires Alḥakam i y ʿAbdarraḥmān ii 225–228. Terés, ʿAbbās ibn Firnās; Aragón Huerta, Ibn Firnās, ʿAbbās, in ba iii, 168. Lévi-Provençal, ʿAbbās b. Firnās. Ibn Ḥayyān, Crónica de los emires Alḥakam i y ʿAbdarraḥmān ii 137–142.

410

buendía

both light-hearted poetry and the more formal court registers used in panegyrics, as well as the disenchanted and ascetic tone of the poems that predominated towards the end of his life. Influenced by Eastern patterns, he also seems to have been the one to introduce the khamriyyāt genre (wine praise poetry) into al-Andalus. The modern edition of his dīwān, with over 60 samples of his poetry, conveys the image of an inventive and original poet with a sharp critical streak and deeply analytical, despite the mainly jovial nature of a large number of his poems.11 On the other hand, literature of the historical genre began in al-Andalus in the court of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii with the figure of ʿAbd al-Malik b. Ḥabīb (ca. 790–853) of Granada, a great scholar trained in Medina and living in Cordoba. He was one of the first representatives of the Maliki school of law in al-Andalus, acting as muftī and advisor to the emir. His extensive knowledge led him to become the most outstanding scholar of the Cordoban court, and he became known as the ʿālim or faqīh (scholar or jurisprudent) of al-Andalus. Ibn Ḥabīb’s prolific work, of which barely a dozen works have survived, deals with a great variety of subjects. Among his production is the Kitāb al-Taʾrīkh or Book of History, an attempt at a universal history, with an ample section of material on the conquest of al-Andalus. In it, he combines legendary contents with biblical subjects, ḥadīth accounts, and short stories about the early days of Islam until the incursion of the Muslims in Hispania. Although its strictly historical value is arguable because of the abundance of legendary stories and folkloric and religious material, its relevance as the first preserved historical treatise in al-Andalus is undeniable.12 The last Cordoban emir, ʿAbd Allāh (888–912), was also an enthusiast of poetry and composed verses himself, both of an aesthetic and an erotic nature. Despite the countless difficulties and dangers he came across during his unstable rule, he managed to keep acting as patron of the poets and men of letters in his court, albeit more irregularly and discretely. Ibn ʿAbd Rabbih (see below) began his career and flourished under his patronage, becoming the great literary figure of the time with his successor, ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii. Also outstanding in his literary entourage was the grammarian and linguist al-Qalfāṭ, who was

11

12

Al-Ghazāl, Dīwān. Rius, al-Gazāl, in ba i, 405. Huici Miranda, al-Ghazāl. Makki, Aportaciones [2nd part] 77–78. ʿAbbās, Tārīkh 157–168. Haykal, al-Adab al-andalusī 153. LéviProvençal, Un échange d’ambassades. Huici Miranda, Ibn Ḥabīb. Arcas Campoy and Serrano Niza, Ibn Ḥabīb, in Diccionario biográfico español. On the questioned authorship of this work by Ibn Habib, see Arcas Campoy and Serrano Niza, Ibn Ḥabīb al-Ilbīrī, ʿAbd al-Malik, in ba iii, 219; Makki, Egipto y los orígenes de la historiografía 189–200. Editions: ʿAbd al-Malik b. Ḥabīb, Kitāb al-taʾrīj.

literature in qurṭuba

411

the most feared satirical poet of his time, and above all, ʿUbayd Allāh b. Idrīs alKhalīdī, panegyrist to ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii, with whom he would gain the rank of vizier. As is mostly the case, unfortunately, only a handful of fragments and loose verses have been preserved from the works of these two poets; scattered in different historical sources and biographic dictionaries.13 Likewise, this was the period, towards the end of the emirate, when a new type of poem in strophic form appeared, soon spreading to the rest of the peninsula beyond the boundaries of al-Andalus, and was adopted by poets of other languages, such as Hebrew, and became very popular in subsequent Arabic literature. It is the muwashshaḥ, a strophic type of poetic composition that does not have a single rhyme, as classical poetry does, and is generally composed to be sung accompanied by music. Its subjects are usually courtly or amatory, and the muwashshaḥ is structured around a brief stanza, written either in vernacular Arabic or in Ibero-Romance, called kharja (exit) (Spanish jarcha), which serves as the end of the poem. The text is made up of two types of alternate strophes, some of them where a rhyme is repeated (qufl) and others where the rhyme is different and variable (ghuṣn). The poem’s kharja is sometimes rendered in the voice of a woman, so that there is a stylistic and linguistic contrast between the courtly tone of the poem and its kharja or ending. Literary history conventionally attributes the creation of this type of poetry to a poet whose work has been lost, the enigmatic Muḥammad b. Maḥmūd, called “The Blind Man of Cabra,”14 although the first preserved muwashshaḥāt belongs to around a century later. On the other hand, the strophic and bilingual nature of this type of poetry has been the subject of intense debate among scholars. Since the kharjas in Ibero-Romance are the first samples of vernacular European poetry that have reached our days, it has been suggested that they could belong to a more ancient poetic tradition that would have been preserved and uninterruptedly developed during the Muslim conquest. And because the muwashshaḥāt are the first strophic poems that appear in Arabic poetry, it has also been suggested that such a strophic form could have been the result of the influence of the romance lyrical poetry of the peninsula. The lack of conclusive textual evidence in Ibero-Romance, apart from the kharjas themselves, makes it difficult to go beyond speculation and progress towards drawing firm con-

13

14

On al-Qalfāṭ, see Terés, Anecdotario de al-Qalfāṭ. Velázquez Basanta, al-Qalafāṭ, Abū ʿAbd Allāh, in ba vii, 24. ʿAbbās, Tārīkh 176–181. On ʿUbayd Allāh b. Idrīs al-Khalīdī, see Lirola Delgado, Ibn Idrīs al-Jalīdī, Abū ʿUṯmān, in ba iii, 492. On the identification of this poet, see Latham, Muḳaddam b. Muʿāfā. Garulo, Ibn Maḥmūd al-Qabrī, Muḥammad, in ba iv, 63. García Gómez, Sobre el nombre y la patria de la muwaššaḥa.

412

buendía

clusions. In any case, these muwashshaḥāt and their kharjas in Ibero-Romance are proof of the intense activity of a bilingual and bicultural society—at least until Almohad dominance—and have favored the development of a wealth of academic literature on the subject of contact and influences between Arabic and European cultures in the peninsula.15

2

The Caliphate and ʿĀmirid Rule (929–1031)

With ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii establishing the caliphate, literary and scholarly life became definitively crystalized in Cordoba, spreading from there to the rest of al-Andalus. The models and patterns of Eastern literature, already assimilated and consolidated, produced new and original works that were in a position to compete with their Eastern equivalents. At the same time, a vigorous philological and historical tradition developed in the caliphal court. With ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii’s successors, patronage of the arts and sciences was definitely boosted.16 Since the mid-10th century, the Cordoban court gained increasing fame as a breeding ground for the arts, attracting a growing number of scholars and men of letters. Some of these learned men, from abroad or with years of training in the East before returning to Cordoba, contributed decisively to the development and flowering of Andalusi culture. Names such as the celebrated philologist of Baghdad al-Qālī (901–967), the jurist and biographer al-Khushanī (ca. 981), the historian and geographer Muḥammad b. Yūsuf al-Warrāq (904– 974), or the poet and grammarian Ṣāʿid al-Baghdādī (ca. 950–1026) are but a few of the most outstanding ones on the list.17 Against this background of growing enhancement, Caliph al-Ḥakam ii embodied the perfect image of a learned monarch. He was a bibliophile and a great lover and patron of the arts, as well 15

16

17

The bibliography on this inexhaustible subject goes far beyond the scope of these lines. Excellent summaries can be found in Álvarez, Muwashshaḥ, in Meisami and Starkey, Encyclopedia of Arabic literature 563–566. Schoeler, Muwashshaḥ. Garulo, La literatura árabe de al-Ándalus 161–182. Rosen, The muwashshah 165–189. Scheindlin and Barletta, al-Andalus, poetry 27–29. Perhaps the most comprehensive work on the subject to date is Zwartjes, Love songs from al-Andalus. See also Corriente, Poesía dialectal árabe y romance en Alandalús. Jones, Romance kharjas in Andalusian Arabic. For the vast bibliography, see Zwartjes and Heijkoop, Muwaššah, Zajal, Kharja. Translations of some muwashshaḥāt can be found in Monroe, Hispano-Arabic poetry. On the various aspects related to patronage in Islamic Cordoba, see Hillenbrand, The ornament of the world 112–135. Fierro, Al-Ándalus, saberes e intercambios. Rius Piniés, Científicos en nómina. Blachère, Un pionnier de la culture arabe orientale. Makki, Aportaciones [2nd part] 92. Lévi-Provençal, España musulmana. Instituciones y arte, 314–330.

literature in qurṭuba

413

as a famed expert in Islamic jurisprudence. His magnificent enlargement of the mosque of Cordoba and his celebrated library was one of the largest and most comprehensive of the time. Certain sources attribute, perhaps not without a grain of exaggeration, 400,000 volumes and a catalogue of 44 50-page booklets to the collections in his library. These accomplishments are enough to credit his rule as glorious and during which Cordoba became one of the most splendid courts of the Islamic world. 2.1 Poetry In the same way that modernist Eastern poetry was introduced and had developed since the rule of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii, the late 9th century marks the beginning of the introduction of neoclassical poetry. The dīwāns of great Eastern poets such as Abū Tammām, al-Buḥturī, or Ibn al-Muʿtazz, and later on those of al-Ṣanawbarī and al-Mutanabbī, were thoroughly studied and assimilated.18 The latter’s influence on Andalusi poetry was enormous. In this scenario of new contributions, poetic production becomes diversified with the addition of new genres and subjects, reaching high levels of formal perfection. Subjects include floral poetry, eroticism and homoeroticism, poems in praise of wine, satirical and comical poetry, and, of course, panegyrics, the predominant poetic genre. The poets of the time were legion: Muḥammad al-Ṭubnī (913–1004), Ṭāhir b. ʿAlī al-Muhannad al-Baghdādī (927–999), Muḥammad b. Shukhayṣ (d. ca. 1009), Abū Marwān al-Jazīrī (ca. 950–1003), and Ibn Māʾ al-Samāʾ (d. ca. 1028). Among them we can count some prominent or notorious figures that, according to the vogue of the time, also composed poetry, like the theologian and jurist Mundhir b. Saʿīd (who was the chief qadi of Cordoba; ca. 886–966), and the statesman Jaʿfar al-Muṣḥafī (d. 983), who was for many years wazīr and chamberlain at the court of the caliphs al-Ḥakam ii and Hishām ii. Ibn ʿAbd Rabbih (860–940), called Malīḥ al-Andalus (The witty man of alAndalus) by his contemporaries, is perhaps the best epitome of a model writer and poet of the caliphate. Born in Cordoba, he was already a prominent panegyrist of the Umayyad house in the court of Emir ʿAbd Allāh, successfully maintaining the position throughout his entire career and reaching the highest honors at the side of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii, whose political and military virtues in campaign he described in a long and celebrated urjūza poem. Even so, his amatory poems are the ones that have granted him the highest regard, both for their thematic simplicity and for their refined expression of Eastern-inspired courtly love, written in a plain style and with a flawless formal pattern. In the

18

Makki, Aportaciones [2nd part] 92.

414

buendía

last days of his life he added to this love poetry a collection of ascetic poems in the same rhyme and meter that he called mumaḥḥiṣāt (those which efface sins), where he repents from his youthful sins. Although it is true that Ibn ʿAbd Rabbih has gone down to posterity mainly for his extensive prose work, The unique necklace (see below), and that his poetry earned him as many admirers as detractors (the latter criticizing a certain affectation and, especially, a lack of genuine emotion),19 his popularity in life was such that his death was cause for a great retinue to follow his burial in Cordoba, where he was called “The poet of the country.”20 At the height of the caliphal period, and also under the rule of the chamberlain and commander al-Manṣūr (978–1002), many poets and scholars, as had been happening since the time of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii, were listed in an official register and regularly received an allowance according to their merits and closeness to the caliph. A glance at the palatine annals of Caliph al-Ḥakam ii conveys an idea of the omnipresence of poetry at the court, where numerous poets were gathered for any official event to recite their compositions and poems: feasts and celebrations, receptions for ambassadors, inaugurations, alms-giving ceremonies, the departure or arrival of the caliphal army, palace audiences, etc.21 In any case, poetry enjoyed a privileged position. Al-Manṣūr, for his part, used to take with him a large body of poets on all his campaigns so that they could sing the praise of his military victories; historian Ibn al-Khaṭīb mentions that in the campaign he waged against Barcelona in 985, he took with him in his camp as many as 40 poets. In this regard, attention must be drawn to poetry’s instrumental role as propaganda, which was essential for any sovereign of the time who needed the magnificence and splendor of their court voiced to compete against the other caliphates of the time: the Fatimid and the Abbasid. Because of this, Cordoba— as was later the case with the Seville of the Abbasids—stood as a city where poetic activity was never lacking, especially in the form of panegyrics. This exaggerated and dithyrambic poetry is nowadays not well liked by the pub19

20

21

See the severe judgment on his poetry expressed by ʿAbbās, Tārīkh 194–204. Conversely, see Ibn Khallikān, Biographical dictionary i, 137. See also Ibn ʿAbd Rabbih, The unique necklace vx–xviii. On the author, see Brockelmann, Ibn ʿAbd Rabbih. Haremska, Ibn ʿAbd Rabbih, Abū Marwān, in ba i, 629. Álvarez, Ibn ʿAbd Rabbih 302–303. Averbuch, Ibn ʿAbd Rabbih 89–93. On his poetry, see Cowell, Ibn ʿAbd Rabbihi and his ghazal verse. Continente, Notas sobre la poesía de Ibn ʿAbd Rabbihi. Editions of his poetry: Riḍwān al-Dāyya, Dīwān; al-Tūnjī, Dīwān Ibn ʿAbd Rabbih. Translation of his urjūza can be found in Monroe, Hispano-Arabic poetry 74–129. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabis. Spanish trans., García Gómez, Anales palatinos.

literature in qurṭuba

415

lic, and it is currently very far from the admiration it gave rise to in its days because of its partial, conventional, and often insincere nature. Nevertheless, among the composers of this laudatory poetry there is a sensational figure that stands out above the rest: Ibn Darrāj al-Qasṭallī (958–1030), considered one of the greatest poets of al-Andalus. During his long career he served at the house of al-Manṣūr as kātib (secretary) and also as his main panegyrist; and later, when the fitna (period of civil war) broke out (1009–1031), he survived in the service of several rulers and petty kings until 1018, when he landed in the prosperous Taifa of Zaragoza. His elaborate and shrewd poetry, of exquisite formal perfection, summarizes the best virtues of Arabic neoclassical poetry and portrays him as a master of descriptions and a poet of deep and serene lyrical reach, which is why he has been compared to some of the greatest Arabic poets of the East, such as Abu Tammām or al-Mutanabbī. The following fragment illustrates his mastery of the panegyric, where he interweaves the atmosphere of ancient Bedouin poetry with praise to al-Manṣūr in an original and personal way, where the poet’s voice can still be heard despite the genre’s conventionalisms: O wife! Set the will of the unjustly treated free so that it may rise into the desert’s immensity and take flight! Perhaps what pained you after separation will make the lowly stronger or free a prisoner. Don’t you know that to settle down means to die and that the homes of those who have no will become graves? Didn’t you try to read the early birds’ omen? Didn’t they fly to the right to tell you the journey would be safe? This long journey does scare me though the hope of kissing al-Mansur’s hand sustains me. Let me drink the desert’s stagnant waters until the pure waters of his nobility will quench my thirst and give revenge for hard times as I meet the one who will protect me for the risks that await the one who dares are also part of his human fate.22

22

Trans. by Abdelfetah Chenni and Pierre Joris, in Joris and Tengour (eds.), Poems for the millennium iv, 53. See Makki, Ibn Darrād̲ j ̲ al-Ḳasṭallī. Saleh Alkhalifa, Ibn Darrāŷ al-Qasṭallī, Abū ʿUmar, in ba iii, 54. Blachère, La vie et l’oeuvre du poète-épistolier. Makki, La España cristiana en el diván de Ibn Darrāŷ. Edition of his poetry: Makkī, Dīwān.

416

buendía

Another extraordinary poet of the time is al-Ramādī (d. 1013). An individual with an interesting biography—he was the protagonist of one of the most delightful episodes of The ring of the dove by Ibn Ḥazm—panegyrist for the Umayyads and al-Manṣūr, he moved in the most bohemian circles of Cordoban society in al-Ḥakam ii’s time. His works prove his mastery of every single poetic genre, from the panegyric and floral to the obscenest and most libertine poetry, often combining different subjects and genres quite liberally. He is a poet of fine sensitivity and originality, capable of profiting from the rigid conventions of the different poetic genres to add a touch of his genius, conveying powerful metaphors and images, like the ones in this ingenious and delicate poem, where he makes a game of comparing the strokes of Arabic script with the signs of love: When you look at letters tracing a line some are linked, others stand far apart see how the former seem to be hugging and the latter look like gap teeth in a mouth —yet both are pearls extracted by thought diving into a pulsing mind black ink spots on the whiteness of the page: beauty spots on the lover’s lustrous face.23 The omnipresence of poetry in Cordoba, alongside Umayyad princes’ love of verse, had its maximum exponent in the figure of Marwān b. ʿAbd al-Raḥmān (ca. 961–1010), a great-grandson of Caliph ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii who was known to posterity as al-Sharīf al-Ṭalīq (The Amnestied Prince) because of the unusual vicissitudes of his life. After murdering his father for the love of a concubine the former had given and then later taken from him, he spent 16 years in prison, until he was pardoned by al-Manṣūr. Prince Marwān was an outstanding poet, especially devoted to erotic-amorous subjects, whose prolific production has been mostly lost. According to Ibn Ḥazm, he was one of the greatest poets in all Muslim Spain. The scarce fragments of his works that have survived—which barely reaches a hundred verses—reveal a poet of neoclassical aesthetics, an elegant and sober style, and refined sensitivity:

23

Trans. by Abdelfetah Chenni and Pierre Joris, in Joris and Tengour (eds.), Poems for the millennium iv, 58. See Pèrés, al-Ramādī. Navarro i Ortiz, al-Ramādī, Yūsuf, in ba vii, 149. ʿAbbās, Tārīkh 205–222. Edition of his poetry: Zuhayr Jarrār, Shiʿr al-Ramādī. On his famous infatuation with Khalwa, see Ibn Ḥazm, The dove’s neck-ring, trans. Nykl, ch. 5.

literature in qurṭuba

417

At twilight, I took leave of her whom I love, would that I Had tasted death rather than taste parting from her. It seemed that even the sun complained of passionate love for her And that the doves cooed plaintively on account of their love for her. The crepuscule wastes away from her absence As if it suffers what I suffer. The breeze has come recounting what was between us; It wastes away from love and its fragrance is pleasant. Nor is the garden, moistened by her dew at dawn, More fragrant than her memory. The blossom is her smile, her scent the zephyr, And the rose, moistened with dew, her cheeks. Thus, I am enamored of gardens, for they Always remind me of whom I love.24 After the fall of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān Sanchuelo, the last ʿAmirid regent, in 1009, Cordoba entered a long period of instability and civil wars that would last until the dissolution of the caliphate in 1031. This turbulent and bloody period, called the “Fitna of al-Andalus,” witnessed a succession of several rulers and caliphs. One of them was ʿAbd al-Raḥmān v al-Mustaẓhir, a young Umayyad prince who remained in power for only 47 days (December 2, 1023–January 17, 1024). Nevertheless, despite his ephemeral rule, the young regent surrounded himself with the most brilliant literary figures of the time, selected from among the young Cordoban aristocracy. Two such members of his government were perhaps the most original and universal poets produced by Andalusi culture: Ibn Shuhayd and Ibn Ḥazm. Both of them are also, as shall be seen, the authors of two masterpieces of prose: the Epistle of inspiring jinns and demons (Risālat al-tawābiʿ wa l-zawābiʿ) and The ring of the dove (Ṭawq al-ḥamāma). The former, Abū ʿĀmir Aḥmad b. Shuhayd (992–1035), belonged to a family of long aristocratic ancestry and had been moving in palatial spheres since he was a child. Despite his premature death (he was little more than 40 years old), he is perhaps Cordoba’s most personal poetic voice. Pessimistic and fiercely independent, as well as irreverent and libertine, he chastised his enemies with his sharp and malicious tongue. His poetry, which drew from modern influences and displayed great formal perfection, covers a variety of subjects: bac24

Trans. Neale, The dīwān of al-Sharīf al-Ṭalīq 29. Spanish translation: García Gómez, Cinco poetas musulmanes, 86. See Villuendas Sabaté, al-Šarīf al-Ṭalīq, Marwān, in ba vii, 329. ʿAbbās, Tārīkh 223–235. Garulo, El Príncipe Amnistiado. Serrano, al-Sharīf al-Ṭalīq. Translations of his poetry can be found in Monroe, Hispano-Arabic poetry 154–159.

418

buendía

chic, floral, laudatory, erotic and homoerotic, and others. In life, Ibn Shuhayd boasted that he was the epitome of the most refined man of letters, of the Arabic Cordoban gentleman, born for literature and devoted to such by nature, without erudite artifices or constructions acquired through study and hard work. Still, despite this haughty personality—where part of his verses’ charm lies—the best poetry he wrote is perhaps that of his last days, when, disabled by hemiplegia, he was left bedridden and in ruin. This is when his verses become more personal and heartfelt than ever, acquiring a hard to forget resigned and tragic tone. His farewell to his close friend Ibn Ḥazm, when already at death’s doors, is perhaps one of the best verses in all Andalusi poetry:25 When I observed that life had turned away its head and I became assured beyond doubt that death would seize me I desired only to dwell in a cave at the summit of a windblown, lofty peak, Drawing sustenance from seeds scattered on the ground for the remainder of my life—alone—and sipping the water concealed in rocky crevices. My boon companion is the man who has sought death once, for I, to say the truth, have sought it fifty times. Now that the hour of my departure draws near, it is as though I had gained in the past from this world only one moment brief as a flash of lightning. So who will carry a message from me to Ibn Hazm, for he has been a mainstay in my misfortunes and during my hours of difficulty, A message saying: The peace of God be upon you. I am about to die, so let the peace of God invoked by a beloved one on the point of death suffice you as a means of sustenance. Moreover, do not forget to perform my funeral oration when you shall have been deprived of me, or to speak well of the days when I was alive and of the excellence of my character. And move with your words, by God, each time you mention me, every clever and comely youth while they are burying me. Perchance my corpse will hear part of it from the grave, thanks to the trilling voice of a singer or the music-making of an instrumentalist. 25

On Ibn Shuhayd’s life and works, see Dickie, Ibn Šuhayd; and the introduction to his dīwān: Dickie, El dīwān de Ibn Šuhayd 11–82. See also Lirola Delgado, Ibn Šuhayd, Abū ʿĀmir, in ba v, 403. Pellat, Ibn S̲h̲uhayd. DeYoung, Abū ʿĀmir Aḥmad Ibn Shuhayd. Other editions: Pellat, Dīwān Ibn Shuhayd.

literature in qurṭuba

419

In this way I shall take joy in being remembered after my death, so do not begrudge me joy, thinking that it is a distraction unworthy of the dead. And I hope God will forgive the punishment my sins have deserved because of what he knows of my true nature.26 However, if only one man of letters must be chosen as epitomizing the spirit of caliphal Cordoba, highlighting its best virtues—and even serving as an example for its peak and demise—it would be no other than Ibn Ḥazm (994– 1064).27 There is little new to be added about this great writer’s personality, whose prolific work is a display of his mastery and unparalleled drive in countless branches of knowledge: literature, history, genealogy, jurisprudence, theology, philosophy, and others. The son of a vizier of al-Manṣūr’s court and that of his son and successor al-Muẓaffar, during his youth he enjoyed the best education and a prominent social position, which allowed him, as mentioned, to make a brief incursion into politics. However, the crisis and collapse of the caliphate brought a radical change to his expectations: he was incarcerated and exiled and, after a short-lived period of stability in Cordoba, already solely devoted to legal and theological studies, he was forced again into exile in 1027 when his opinions on law were prohibited. From then on, he led a nomadic life as a polemist and erudite across the different Taifas, until he retreated to his family estate at Munt Līsham (present-day Montija, Huelva), where he died in 1064. A controversial, heterodox, and rebellious thinker and a universal genius, his singular and intuitive poetry, mainly produced during his youth, has become unfairly eclipsed by the rest of his work. However, although it sometimes shows an excess of speculative abstraction, typical of his intellectual nature, within it beats the truthful and penetrating spirit of a true poet, who, perhaps for not being a professional writer of poetry, also distances himself quite often from all rhetoric and affectation, with a voice that still sounds alive and close: True love is not the daughter of a moment And its flint-stone does not make the fire come out at will:

26 27

Trans. Monroe, Hispano-Arabic poetry, 168. Spanish translation: Dickie, El dīwān de Ibn Šuhayd 196–199; and in Sánchez Ratia, Treinta Poemas árabes 192–195. The bibliography on Ibn Ḥazm is very extensive. See Adang, Fierro, and Schmidtke, Ibn Ḥazm of Cordoba. See also Arnaldez, Ibn Ḥazm. Puerta Vílchez, Ibn Ḥazm, Abū Muḥammad, in ba iii, 392. DeYoung, Abū Muḥammad Ibn Ḥazm. On his literary dimension, see Pellat, lbn Ḥazm. Arié, Ibn Ḥazm et l’amour courtois. Editions: Rashād ʿAbd al-Karīm, Dīwān.

420

buendía

But it is generated and propagated slowly By a long intermingling, and thus its pillars will become firm; The absence and decrease of it cannot be brought near it, And its permanence and increase cannot be removed from it: This is confirmed by our seeing that everything Which is quickly accomplished, will also perish shortly: But I am a hard and hardened soil; Its docility is opposed to any attempt of planting: Hence roots sprung from it have not penetrated into it, And it does not care that its successive spring rains be abundant.28 2.2 Prose Andalusi literary prose bears its best fruit in the Cordoba of the caliphs. As already noted, in the early 10th century Andalusi culture was already ripe to offer works of worldwide renown. Since the time of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii, the chancery bureau (kuttāb) had gained noticeable strength and, as in the Islamic East, its experience bore the germ of Andalusi prose. The works of al-Jāḥiẓ and Ibn Qutayba arrived and were studied in Cordoba in the time of Emir Muḥammad i (852–886), and towards the end of the emiral period, the works of all the great secretarial scribes and Abbasid belletrists were known. As mentioned above, this time also marks the beginning of a gradual intellectual exchange with the Islamic East, which led to the production of some pioneering prose works, such as the epistles of the Cordoban poet Muḥammad b. ʿAbd alSalām b. Qalamūn, now lost.29 This scenario of growing cultural effervescence is where some of the masterpieces of Andalusi literary prose are produced. The first of them is unquestionably The unique necklace (al-ʿIqd al-farīd) by Ibn ʿAbd Rabbih. A vast adab anthology—miscellaneous nonfiction literature of a ludic and educational nature, whose main purpose is to simultaneously please and teach the reader—the ʿIqd is divided into 25 books, each of them named after a gemstone: ruby, emerald, pearl, topaz, and others. The middle book, number 13, is entitled “The Crown Jewel” (al-Wāsiṭa), so that the arrangement and titles of the books that make up the work simulate the beads of a unique gemstone necklace with a central brooch. Each book addresses a specific cultural subject: rulership, generosity, delegations, oratory, poetry, women,

28

29

Trans. Nykl in Ibn Ḥazm, The dove’s neck-ring 35–36. Spanish translation: Sánchez Ratia, Treinta poemas árabes, 188. Unfortunately, studies on Ibn Ḥazm’s poetry in western languages are scarce. See ʿAbbās, Tārīkh 318–322. Makki, Aportaciones [2nd part] 86–88. On Ibn Qalamūn, see Ibn al-Faraḍī, Tārīkh ʿulamāʾ al-Andalus 1164, 25.

literature in qurṭuba

421

food and drink, etc. Each of these books, in turn, includes a great variety of short stories, accounts and anecdotes related to the subject concerned. Thus, The unique necklace stands as one of the most important prose works of Arabic literature, a treasure trove of data and curiosities that is essential to the understanding and knowledge of medieval Arabic culture. Ibn ʿAbd Rabbih and this work have often been criticized as lacking personality and originality, since it is mainly made up of material from Eastern classical Arabic sources and contains scarce data and knowledge related to al-Andalus. However, nowadays such criticism has been deemed unfounded, since it is unrelated to the literary value of the work per se and it overlooks the fact that the cultural models used by the author—who was by no means a local historian, nor wished to be such—were those that prevailed in his time: those of Abbasid culture, from the teachings of which Andalusi culture started its own journey.30 In the last stages of the caliphate, two masterpieces of prose were produced in Cordoba, whose authors are two previously mentioned poets of noble birth: the Epistle of inspiring jinns and demons by Ibn Shuhayd and The ring of the dove by Ibn Ḥazm. The former has reached us in a fragmentary condition, entitled Risālat al-tawābiʿ wa l-zawābiʿ in Arabic, since only the passages conveyed by Ibn Bassām and by al-Thaʿālibī have survived.31 Thus, as we know it, it is a brief account in epistle form and in rhymed prose (sajʿ) of around 50 pages, describing how the author, Ibn Shuhayd, is visited by his jinn or inspiring genie, called Zuhayr b. Numayr, who takes him on a fantastic journey to visit the genies or jinn of the most prominent Arabic authors: the poets Abu Nuwās, al-Buḥturī, Abū Tammām, and al-Mutanabbī, and the prose writers al-Jāḥiẓ, ʿAbd al-Ḥamīd al-Kātib, al-Hamadhānī, and several others. Accompanied by these characters, Ibn Shuhayd engages in a series of curious and brilliant discussions around literary talent and the profession of the man of letters, a sort of competition or literary emulation from which the author always emerges victorious. Thus, by means of a witty and novel exercise of self-praise ( fakhr), Ibn Shuhayd rises to the level of the very best of Arabic arts, providing a detailed description of his view of poetry and creative talent and genius. In the pages of the epistle that have survived, the author sets forth a dazzling exhibition of literary talent in a series of complex and almost theatrical dialogues, full of irony and humor and with a masterly touch for psychological characterization. On the

30

31

Partial trans. in three volumes by Boullata, The unique necklace. The most complete work so far on al-ʿIqd al-farīd is Werkmeister, Quellenuntersuchungen. See also Veglison, El collar único; Arié, Un lettré hispano-musulman; Toral-Niehoff, History in adab context. Edition: Qumayḥa and al-Tarḥīnī, al-ʿIqd al-farīd. Ibn Bassām, al-Dhakhīra i, 245–278, 283–301; al-Thaʿālibī, Yatīmat al-dahr ii, 51–57.

422

buendía

other hand, the work is noticeably similar to another masterpiece of Arabic literature, Risālat al-ghufrān by Abū l-ʿAlāʾ al-Maʿarrī (973–1058), which has led to much speculation about Ibn Shuhayd’s influence on the great Syrian poet (as well as that of the latter on Dante), since the Epistle of inspiring jinns and demons was written almost a decade before the work of al-Maʿarrī. In any case, it is undeniable that Ibn Shuhayd’s Risala is a masterpiece that remarkably summarizes a time when the Arabic arts were at their height in Cordoba, and so was Andalusi civilization.32 The ring of the dove, a work from Ibn Ḥazm’s youth, stands as perhaps the work with the greatest reach and widest dissemination among the Andalusi belles lettres. Its full title, The ring of the dove and the shadow of the cloud on love and lovers, portrays it clearly as a treatise on the nature of the passion of love. It consists of 30 chapters, each devoted to a specific issue: the signs of love, forms of love, phases or evolution of the love process, fidelity, betrayal, separation, jealousy, death caused by the woes of love, and others. Through them, with extraordinary sagacity and insight, Ibn Ḥazm discloses a wealth of anecdotes, poems, observations, and reflections that outline a comprehensive theory, highly complex and remarkably deep, about love and its troubles. Written in an elegant style, far from rhetoric and overelaboration, The ring of the dove is an intimate work whose special and unique charm, along with its intellectual and aesthetic brilliance, and its strongly Andalusi character, make it a classic of universal literature. Considered the most important love treatise of Arabic literature, there has also been discussion around The ring possibly influenced the shaping of the world of courtly love in medieval European poetry because of its proximity in time and place with Occitan troubadours.33

32

33

Translations: Monroe, The treatise of familiar spirits and demons; Barberá, Epístola de los genios; Vigreux, L’épître des ombres et des trombes; Douillet, Démons inspirateurs de poètes et génies 1–100. See also Hämeen-Anttila, Ibn Shuhayd. Hämeen-Anttila, Maqāma. Continente, Consideraciones 124–135. Stetkevych, Poetic genius and poetic jinnī. Editions: al-Bustānī, Risālat al-Tawābiʿ wa l-zawābiʿ. Translations: Arberry, The ring of the dove; Nykl, The dove’s neck-ring; García Gómez, El collar de la paloma. Sánchez Ratia, El collar de la paloma; Bercher, Le collier du pigeon; Martinez-Gros, Le collier de la colombe; Gabrieli, Il collare della colomba. See also Giffen, Ibn Ḥazm and the Ṭawq al-ḥamāma 420–442. Lévi-Provençal, En relisant le ‘Collier de la colombe.’ Nykl, Hispano-Arabic poetry. Stern, Literary connections 204–230; AbuHaidar, Hispano-Arabic literature. Boase, Arab influences, in Jayyusi (ed.), The legacy of Muslim Spain 457–482; García Gómez, Un precedente y una consecuencia; Martinez-Gros, L’amour tracé. Editions: ʿAbbās, Rasāʾil Ibn Ḥazm: Ṭawq al-ḥamāma i, 19–319.

literature in qurṭuba

3

423

From the Taifa of Cordoba (1031–1070) to the Christian Conquest (1236)

After the dissolution of the caliphate in 1031 and the establishment of the Taifas, Cordoba, which had been suffering from civil wars and internal conflict for over 20 years, was ruthlessly seized and witnessed as some of its best artistic assets (such as Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ and al-Madīna al-Zāhira, the palatial city of al-Manṣūr) were destroyed and reduced to ruins, and it stopped being the undisputable capital of al-Andalus, becoming reduced to just another city, a provincial capital that, as time went by, would increasingly miss its splendorous caliphal past. During the following half century, Seville held intellectual and political supremacy, with a distinguished group of poets gathered around the poet king al-Muʿtamid b. ʿAbbād (1069–1091). Even so, the new Taifa of Cordoba, ruled by the Banū Jahwar, a noble family of ancient aristocratic origins, would still live its final flares of glory. A prominent figure of the Cordoban arts stands out in the period of transition from the last days of the caliphate to the consolidation of the Taifa of Cordoba: Aḥmad b. Burd al-Aṣghar (ca. 1005–1054). From a distinguished family of Cordoban politicians and men of letters, he was an acclaimed prose and poetry writer whose prolific work, once again, has survived only fragmentarily. The protagonist of a turbulent and unstable life, led between the courts of Denia, Almería, and Cordoba, the works that have been preserved are those conveyed by Ibn Bassām in al-Dhakhīra: a number of poems, a treatise written in a biographical style where he summarizes his aesthetic and artistic ideas,34 and some epistles, among which the most interesting is the one entitled Debate of pen and sword, where he seems to have been the first to address the classical topic of the debate between arms and letters.35 Cordoba was yet to witness the birth of further literary glories. One of them was a poet of universal standing whose work is still admired and widely recited across the Arabic world: Ibn Zaydūn (1003–1071). Born in Cordoba just after the death of al-Manṣūr, his life would develop in parallel with the crumbling of the caliphate and the emergence of the Taifas. A member of an illustrious family,

34

35

Sirr al-adab wa sabk al-dhahab (Secret of the belles lettres and art of melting gold), partially conveyed by Ibn Bassām, al-Dhakhīra i/i, 486. Spanish translation in De la Granja, Maqāmas y risālas andaluzas 54–59. English translation by Van Gelder, Classical Arabic literature 248–254. Spanish translation by De la Granja, Epístola de la espada y el cálamo 32–44. See Monés, Ibn Burd [al-Aṣghar]. Gómez Renau, Ibn Burd al-Aṣgar, Abū Ḥafṣ (nieto), in ba ii, 678. Heinrichs, Rose versus narcissus.

424

buendía

he soon excelled in poetry and reached the position of vizier at the court of the Banū Jahwar of Cordoba. It was at this time of youth that a singular event would mark his life and poetry: his love affair with Princess Wallāda. Daughter of the short-lived Caliph Muḥammad iii al-Mustakfī (1024–1025), Wallāda is an almost legendary woman whose biography, though scarcely documented, has captivated popular imagination:36 blonde, beautiful, learned, intelligent, and independent, and a worthy poetess herself, although from her apparently extensive work barely a few poems have survived.37 She ran a literary salon where she showed herself without a veil and with a verse embroidered on each of shoulder trim of her tunic, according to Eastern fashion: For the sake of Allah! I deserve nothing less than glory. I hold my head high and go my way. I will give my cheek to my lover and my kisses to anyone I choose38 Ibn Zaydūn’s relationship with Wallāda was stormy and brief. A series of confrontations and palatial rivalries, jealousy, infidelity, and political plotting contributed first to the breakup and later to the poet’s fall from grace and imprisonment. Ibn Zaydūn would never recover from the blow of this separation, his poetry becoming marked by the memory of Wallāda, to whom he would devote his best verses. Escaping from the prison of Cordoba, he sought refuge in the thriving Seville of the Abbasids, becoming the eulogist and secretary of King al-Muʿtamid b. ʿAbbād, himself a great poet. Although Ibn Zaydūn’s poetry is widely varied and encompasses a broad range of genres and topics, such as panegyric, satire, elegy, and others, it is love poems, especially those devoted to or inspired by Wallāda, where his verses gain universal dimension.39 This is unquestionably his best poetry, characterized

36 37 38 39

See Garulo, La biografia de Wallāda. Garulo, Dīwān de las poetisas de al-Ándalus 141– 146. Only a few poems are preserved from her work, especially those related to Ibn Zaydūn. See Garulo, Dīwān de las poetisas de al-Ándalus 141–146. Garulo, Dīwān de las poetisas de al-Ándalus 143. See Lecomte, Ibn Zaydūn. Sánchez Ratia, Ibn Zaydūn, Abū l-Walīd, in ba vi, 285. Stewart, Ibn Zaydūn 306–317. DeYoung, Aḥmad ibn ʿAbd Allāh Ibn Zaydūn; Jayyusi, Andalusi poetry 343–351; Malti-Douglas, Ibn Zaydūn. Translations: Sobh, Poesías; García Gómez, Árabe en endecasílabos 39–56. English translations of the nūniyya in Monroe, HispanoArabic poetry 178–187; and Sells, The nūniyya 491–496. Editions: ʿAbd al-ʿAẓīm, Dīwān wa rasāʾiluh; al-Bustānī, Dīwān.

literature in qurṭuba

425

by its purely neoclassical inspiration and extraordinary formal perfection, full of lyrical intensity and displaying a moving dramatic quality free from forced affectation. Endowed with extraordinary musicality, where images and ideas play out naturally through terse and flowing verses, Ibn Zaydūn’s poetry— alongside that of Ibn Shuhayd and Ibn Ḥazm among Cordoban authors— perhaps has best traveled down the centuries and is closest to modern tastes and sensitivity, as proven by its great influence on subsequent generations up to today. His celebrated qaṣīda nūniyya dedicated to Wallāda is one of the most beautiful love poems of Muslim Spain, and one of the most distinguished of all Arabic literature, even now learned by heart by generations of students and readers, and sung countless times. 3.1 History and Ibn Ḥayyān Although Andalusi and Cordoban historical sources are not strictly the subject of this chapter, even a glance at literature in Cordoba would be incomplete if we fail to mention the works and mastery of someone who is perhaps one of the greatest historians of all the Western Middle Ages: Ibn Ḥayyān (987–1076). After the tentative precedent set by Ibn Ḥabīb, the historical genre definitely awakened in Cordoba during the rule of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii with the mostly lost work of Aḥmad al-Rāzī (d. 955).40 His mastery lived on in another illustrious Cordoban scholar, Ibn al-Qūṭiyya, “The son of the Gothic woman” (d. 977). Of ancient Visigothic descent and an outstanding scholar during Caliph al-Ḥakam ii’s time, he wrote a Tārīkh iftitāḥ al-Andalus (History of the conquest of al-Andalus) that is especially interesting for gaining insight into the 9th-century Cordoban court.41 However, our knowledge of the history of al-Andalus and Muslim Cordoba would be lacking without the work of Ibn Ḥayyān, one of the most memorable Cordoban writers. Son of one of al-Manṣūr’s secretaries, he in turn took up the position of chancellery secretary to the Banū Jahwar, which granted him access to a wealth of archival and historic documents. The only work of his that has reached our days, albeit incomplete, is al-Muqtabis fī tārīkh rijāl al-Andalus, a ten-volume general his40

41

His son ʿIsā b. Aḥmad al-Rāzī (d. 989), who would become the official chronicler of the court of Caliph al-Ḥakam ii, continued his work, partly preserved in a 15th-century Castilian translation, the so-called Crónica del moro Rasis, which is in turn a translation from an earlier version in Portuguese from the late 13th century. The fragments preserved of the works of these two historians, father and son, are those conveyed by Ibn Ḥayyān in his Muqtabis. See Catalán and Soledad de Andrés, Crónica del moro Rasis. About Ibn al-Qūṭiyya, see Bosch Vilá, Ibn al-Ḳūṭiyya. García Sanjuán and Tawfiq, Ibn alQūṭiya, Abū Bakr, in ba iv, 410. Translations by James, Early Islamic Spain; and Ribera, Historia de la Conquista de España de Abenalcotía el cordobés.

426

buendía

tory of al-Andalus. Mostly made up of fragments of his predecessors’ works, now lost, it is an irreplaceable and monumental portrait of the most important events that took place in Muslim Spain.42 In the words of É. Lévi-Provençal, “Whenever one considers any particular aspect of Hispano-Umayyad history, one is nearly always obliged to revert to Ibn Ḥayyān.”43 The unquestionable historical relevance of his work often eclipses its worthy literary value; an elegant, sober, and precise prose that portrays an energetic and brilliant intellectual, a sagacious producer and filterer of heterogeneous materials and information, whose stylistic and narrative devices go far beyond those of any ordinary chronicler.

∵ Under the rule of the Almoravids (1091), Cordoba finally lost its independence as a political entity, while at the same time a heavy cloak of orthodoxy and public morality fell upon official domains. With the disappearance of the old courtly splendor, and with Cordoba being reduced to merely the capital of a province within a North African empire, patronage also shifted to local bodies, mainly private and far smaller. Poets, forced to seek patrons among less refined audiences than those of the past, began to cultivate lighter and more popular forms of poetry. This is the scenario where he who could be called the great epitome of Cordoban Arabic letters appears: Ibn Quzmān (ca. 1086–1160). He was not a classical poet, nor even one to write in literary, formal, or educated Arabic, but one who used the Andalusi dialect. Born around 1086, he seems to have belonged to a prominent Cordoban family that had become impoverished. Little is known about his life beyond the data—not always reliable—that he includes in his poems. Most of his poetry consists of zajals, a form of poetic composition very similar to the muwashshaḥ, but written entirely in Andalusi dialect, with a considerable number of non-Arabic words, both Berber and Ibero-Romance. Besides, the zajal is usually longer than the muwashshaḥ and, most importantly, covers a much wider thematic range, from the panegyric to satire, through Bacchic, erotic, and libertine poetry. Ibn Quzmān, who spent his life in the midst of economic ups and downs, was often forced to seek the

42

43

Ibn Bassām, among others, also conveys many passages of his other great work, now entirely lost, al-Matīn. See Huici Miranda, Ibn Ḥayyān. Mohedano Barceló, Ibn Ḥayyān, Abū Marwān al-Qurṭubī, in ba iii, 356. Lévi-Provençal, España musulmana. Instituciones y Arte 321–323. Molina, Historiografía 1–27. Soravia, Ibn Ḥayyān, historien. Viguera, Cronistas de al-Ándalus. Lévi-Provençal, Españ a Musulmana. Instituciones y arte 323

literature in qurṭuba

427

protection of temporary patrons among the wealthy middle class, the military aristocracy, or well-positioned jurists and had to wander from city to city in search of sustenance and patronage for his poetry: Seville, Jaén, Granada, and Fez. Because of this, his poems show a considerable measure of pretence and affectation, although he liked to portray himself as a character that was almost an anti-hero or rogue: bon vivant, dissolute, pleasure seeking, drinker, adulterous, and lewd. The poetry of Ibn Quzmān, whose main concerns were apparently money, wine, and love, has been appropriately called “a voice in the street.” Because of their popular, straightforward, shameless, and clever nature, far from all rhetoric stiffness, Ibn Quzmān’s zajals are regarded as one of the most interesting and valuable samples of Hispano-Arabic poetry, since alongside their freshness and spontaneity, they are a first-class source of knowledge about the society of his time and the Andalusi dialect.44 After the final glimmering of Ibn Quzmān, Cordoba’s literary star became gradually extinguished, eclipsed by Seville and other courts as centers of culture and patronage. As evidence of its past grandeur, and also in yearning for its lost splendor, there is yet one last noteworthy work from the Almohad period (1146–1269), a little jewel of literature in the form of a eulogy in memory of the glorious past of Andalusi civilization. This text is the epistle, Eulogy of the Islam of al-Andalus,45 by al-Shaqundī (d. 1231), a Cordoban scholar, man of letters, and faqīh who became a boon companion to the Almohad caliph alManṣūr (1184–1199). Sprouting from a debate in which the author took part at the court of the governor of Ceuta on the subject of cultural supremacy between al-Andalus and the empires of northern Africa, and bent by an undisguised conflict between the Arabic and Berber elements, the epistle consists of two parts: one dedicated to praising different aspects of al-Andalus through its great figures and another, of great literary value, where he engages in praising the Andalusi cities. A true Andalusi elegy, beset with yearning for its lost glory and independence after a century of North African rule, but at the same

44

45

The bibliography on the poetry of Ibn Quzmān, as well as its metric and linguistic derivations is enormous. See Colin, Ibn Ḳuzmān; Ferrando, Ibn Quzmān al-Aṣgar, Abū Bakr, in ba iv, 416. Monroe, Abū Bakr ibn ʿAbd al-Malik Ibn Quzmān 175–185. Buturovic, Ibn Quzmān 292–305. For complete and annotated translations of his dīwān, see Monroe, The mischievous muse; Corriente, El cancionero hispanoárabe; and Corriente, Cancionero andalusí; García Gómez, Todo ben Quzmān. See also Corriente, Poesía dialectal árabe y romance en Alandalús; Monroe, Which came first. Monroe, Zajal and muwashshaḥa 398– 419. Editions: Corriente, Dīwān Ibn Quzmān al-Qurṭubī; and the more recent and improved Dīwān Ibn Quzmān (Iṣābat al-aghrāḍ). See López y López, al-Šaqundī, Abū l-Walīd, in ba vii, 295. Viguera, al-S̲h̲aḳundī.

428

buendía

time full of pride in the great conquests and glories of Andalusi civilization in Spain, the work of al-Shaqundī lives on as the swan song of Cordoban Arabic letters.46

4

Conclusions

The literary history of Cordoba is, paradoxically, one of the most brilliant and extraordinary chapters of medieval European culture: it was written in neither Romance nor Latin, and it belongs to a long extinct period of Arab and Muslim history that had no sequel in the history of Europe. Throughout much of the European Middle Ages, especially in the 9th and 10th centuries, Cordoba was a hotbed of literary activity in Western Europe. The afterglow of that extraordinary episode can still be detected, across the centuries, in the monuments and relics preserved in the city. As a powerful, wealthy, dynamic metropolis, presided over for decades by a series of inspired emirs who became patrons of the arts and letters, until the collapse of the caliphate, Cordoba was one of the leading cultural centers of the European West. During the first century of al-Andalus, the literary awakening was slow for various reasons, including political instability, the slow pace of Arabization, and the only gradual imitation and assimilation of Eastern literary patterns. However, by the time the caliphate was established, the seeds of a cultural and literary flowering had been sown, and the city became home to a galaxy of poets, belletrists, and scholars. Although the weight of the centuries has consigned many of those writers to oblivion, some of the city’s most illustrious names, such as Ibn Ḥazm, Ibn Zaydūn, and Ibn Quzmān, are writ large in the history of world literature. Moreover, Andalusi culture, with Cordoba as its capital, stands testimony to a bilingual society that, through centuries of coexistence and interaction, facilitated the transfer of knowledge and traditions to Christian Romance and Latin culture, giving rise to such important examples of neo-Latin and IberoRomance literature as the kharajāt or jarchas.

46

Trans. by García Gómez, Elogio del islam español, in García Gómez, Andalucía contra Berbería 45–141. Partial English translation in Gayangos (trans.), al-Maqqarī, The history of the Mohammedan dynasties in Spain 33–43.

literature in qurṭuba

429

Bibliography Primary Sources ʿAbd al-Malik b. Ḥabīb, Kitāb al-Taʾrīj (La Historia), ed. J. Aguadé (csic, Fuentes Arábico-Hispanas, i), Madrid 1991. al-Ḍabbī, Bughyat al-multamis fī tārīkh rijāl ahl al-Andalus, ed. I. al-Abyārī, 2 vols., Cairo and Beirut 1990. al-Ghazāl, Yaḥyā b. Ḥakam, Dīwān, ed. M.R. al-Dāyya, Beirut and Damascus 1993. al-Ḥimyarī, Abū l-Walīd, Kitāb al-Badīʿ fī faṣl al-rabīʿ, ed. ʿA.I. Kurdī, Damascus 1997. Ibn al-Abbār, al-Ḥulla al-siyarāʾ, ed. Ḥ. Muʾnis, 2 vols., Cairo 1963. Ibn al-Abbār, Tuḥfat al-qādim, ed. I. ʿAbbās, Beirut 1986. Ibn ʿAbd Rabbih, al-ʿIqd al-farīd, eds. M.M. Qumayḥa and ʿA.M. al- Tarḥīnī, 9 vols., Beirut 1983. Partial English translation: I.J. Boullata: Ibn ‘Abd Rabbih, The Unique Necklace. Al-ʿIqd al-Farīd, 3 vols., Reading, 2007–2011. Partial Spanish translation: J. Veglison: El collar único, de Ibn Abd Rabbihi, Madrid, 2007. Boullata, The unique necklace = Ibn ʿAbd Rabbih, al-ʿIqd al-farīd. Ibn ʿAbd Rabbih, Dīwān, ed. M.R. al-Dāyya, Beirut 1979. Ibn ʿAbd Rabbih, Dīwān Ibn ʿAbd Rabbih al-andalusī, ed. M. al-Tūnjī, Beirut 1993. Ibn Bassām, al-Dhakhīra fī maḥāsin ahl al-Jazīra, ed. I. ʿAbbās, 8 vols., Beirut 1978–1979. Ibn Darrāj al-Qasṭallī, Dīwān, ed. M.ʿA. Makkī, Beirut 1961. Ibn al-Faraḍī, Tārīkh ʿulamāʾ al-Andalus, Cairo 1966. Ibn Ḥayyān (editions and translations): Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabas min anbāʾ ahl al-Andalus [ii-2], ed. M.ʿA. Makkī, Beirut 1973. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Muqtabis fī akhbār rijāl al-Andalus [vii], ed. ʿA.R.ʿA. al-Ḥajjī, Beirut 1965. Spanish translation: E. García Gómez, Anales palatinos del Califa de Córdoba al-Ḥakam ii, por ʿIsà Ibn Aḥmad al-Rāzī (360–364 H. = 971–975 J.C.), Madrid 1967. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Qism al-thālith min Kitāb al-Muqtabis fī taʾrīkh rijāl al-Andalus [iii], ed. M.M. Antuña, Ibn Ḥaiyān, Al-Muḳtabis, tome troisième, Chronique du règne du calife umaiyade ʿAbd Allāh à Cordoue, Paris 1937. Spanish translation: G. Turienzo Veiga and A. del Río González, al-Muqtabis iii (Crónica del emir ʿAbd Allāh i entre los años 275 H. / 888–889 d. C. y 299 H. / 912–913 d. C.), Madrid, 2017. Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Sifr al-thānī min kitāb al-Muqtabas li-Ibn Ḥayyān al-Qurṭubī [ii-1], ed. M.ʿA. Makkī, Riyadh 2003. Spanish translation: M.ʿA. Makkī and F. Corriente, Crónica de los emires Alḥakam i y ʿAbdarraḥmān ii entre los años 796 y 847 (Almuqtabis ii-1), Zaragoza 2001. Ibn Ḥazm (editions and translations): Ibn Ḥazm, Risāla fī faḍl al-Andalus wa dhikr rijālihā, in Rasāʾil Ibn Ḥazm al-Andalusī, ed. I. ʿAbbās, 4 vols., Beirut 1987, ii, 171–188. French translation: Ch. Pellat, Ibn Ḥazm,

430

buendía

bibliographe et apologiste de l’Espagne musulmane, in Al-Ándalus 19 (1954), 53– 102. Ibn Ḥazm, Ṭawq al-ḥamāma, in Rasāʾil Ibn Ḥazm al-Andalusī, ed. I. ʿAbbās, 4 vols., Beirut 1980–1983, i, 19–319. English translations: A.J. Arberry, The ring of the dove, by Ibn Hazm, 994–1064. A treatise on the art and practice of Arab love, London 1953. A.R. Nykl, The dove’s neck-ring, Paris 1931. Spanish translations: E. García Gómez, El collar de la paloma. Tratado sobre el amor y los amantes, Madrid 1952. J. Sánchez Ratia, El Collar de la Paloma y la Sombra de la Nube, Madrid 2009. French translations: L. Bercher: Ibn Hʾazm al-Andalusî, Le Collier du Pigeon, ou de l’Amour et des Amants, Algiers 1949. G. Martinez-Gros, Le Collier de la Colombe (De l’amour et des amants), Paris 1992. Italian translation: F. Gabrieli, Il collare della colomba: sull’amore e gli amanti, Bari 1949. Ibn Ḥazm, Dīwān al-imām Ibn Ḥazm al-ẓāhirī, ed. Ṣ.R.ʿ. al-Karīm, Tanta 1410. Ibn Idrīs, Zād al-Musāfir, ed. ʿA. al-Q. Maḥdād, Beirut 1939. Ibn al-Kattānī, Kitāb al-Tashbīhāt, ed. I. ʿAbbās, Beirut 1966. German translation: W. Hoenerbach, Dichterische Vergleiche der Andalus-Araber (Bonner Orientalistische Studien, Neue Serie 26), Bonn 1973. Ibn Khallikān, Wafayāt al-aʿyān wa anbāʾ abnāʾ al-zamān, ed. I. ʿAbbās, 8 vols., Beirut 1994. English translation: W.M. de Slane, Ibn Khallikan’s biographical dictionary, 4 vols., Paris 1843. Ibn Khāqān, Maṭmaḥ al-anfus wa-masraḥ al-taʾannus fī mulaḥ ahl al-Andalus, ed. M.ʿA. Šawābika, Beirut 1973. Ibn Khāqān, Qalāʾid al-ʿiqyān wa maḥāsin al-aʿyān, ed. Ḥ.Y. Kharyūsh, al-Zarqāʾ 1989. Ibn al-Qūṭiyya, Tārīkh iftitāḥ al-Andalus, ed. I. al-Abyārī, Cairo and Beirut 1989. Translations: D.L. James, Early Islamic Spain: The history of Ibn Al-Qūṭiya, London 2011. J. Ribera, Historia de la conquista de España de Abenalcotía el Cordobés, Madrid 1924. Ibn Quzmān, Dīwān Ibn Quzmān al-Qurṭubī. El Cancionero hispano-árabe de Aban Quzmán de Córdoba (m. 555/1160), ed. F. Corriente, Cairo 1995. Dīwān Ibn Quzmān (Iṣābat al-aghrāḍ fī dhikr al-aʿrāḍ), ed. F. Corriente, Rabat 2012. Translations: Monroe, J.T., The mischievous muse: Extant poetry and prose by Ibn Quzmān of Córdoba (d. ah 555/ad 1160), Leiden 2017. García Gómez, E., Todo ben Quzmān, 3 vols., Madrid 1972. Federico Corriente, El cancionero hispanoárabe, Madrid 1984. Ibn Quzmān, Cancionero andalusí, Madrid 1989. Ibn Saʿīd al-Maghribī, al-Mughrib fī ḥulā al-Maghrib, ed. Š. Ḍayf, 2 vols., Cairo 1964. Abridged Spanish tranlation: E. García Gómez, El Libro de las banderas de los campeones de Ibn Saʿīd al-Magribī, Barcelona 1978. Ibn Shuhayd, Risālat al-Tawābiʿ wa l-zawābiʿ, ed. B. al-Bustānī, Beirut 1980 English translation: J.T. Monroe, Risālat at-tawābiʿ wa z-zawābiʿ. The Treatise of Familiar Spirits and Demons by Abū ʿĀmir ibn Shuhaid al-Ashjaʿī, al-Andalusī, Berkeley, 1971. Spanish

literature in qurṭuba

431

translation: Salvador Barberā: Ibn Xuhaid, Epístola de los Genios, o Árbol del Donaire, Santander, 1981. French translations: Georges Douillet, Démons inspirateurs de poètes et génies des tempêtes. Épitre par Ibn Shuhayd al-Andalusī, (992-1035), in Revue des Études Islamiques 61 (1991), 1–100. Philippe Vigreux: Ibn Shuhayd, L’Épître des ombres et des trombes, Paris, 2013. Ibn Shuhayd, Dīwān Ibn Shuhayd al-andalusī, ed. Ch. Pellat, Beirut 1963. Ibn Shuhayd [Ibn Šuhayd], El dīwān de Ibn Šuhayd al-andalusī: texto y traducción, ed. J. Dickie, Córdoba 1975. Ibn Zaydūn, Dīwān wa rasāʾiluh, ed. ʿA.ʿA. al-ʿAẓīm, Cairo 1957. Ibn Zaydūn, Dīwān Ibn Zaydūn, ed. K. al-Bustānī, Beirut 1975 Partial Spanish translation: Mahmud Sobh: Ibn Zaydūn, Poesías, Madrid, 1979. al-Maqqarī, Nafḥ al-ṭīb, ed. I. ʿAbbās, 8 vols., Beirut 1988. Partial English translation: The history of the Mohammedan dynasties in Spain, trans. P. de Gayangos, 2 vols., London 1840. al-Ramādī, Shiʿr al-Ramādī, Yūsuf b. Hārūn. Shāʿir al-Andalus fī l-qarn al-rābiʿ al-hijrī, ed. M.Z. Jarrār, Beirut 1980. al-Thaʿālibī, Yatīmat al-dahr, ed. M.M. Qumayḥa, 5 vols., Beirut, 1983.

Secondary Sources ʿAbbās, I., Tārīkh al-adab al-andalusī: ʿaṣr siyādat Qurṭuba, Beirut 1975. Abu-Haidar, J.A., Hispano-arabic literature and the early Provençal lyrics, Richmond 2001. Adang, C., M. Fierro, and S. Schmidtke, Ibn Ḥazm of Cordoba: The life and works of a controversial thinker, Leiden 2013. Álvarez, l., Muwashshaḥ, in J.S. Meisami and P. Starkey (eds.), Encyclopedia of Arabic literature, London 1998, 563–566. Álvarez, l., Ibn ʿAbd Rabbih, in J.S. Meisami and P. Starkey (eds.), Encyclopedia of Arabic literature, London 1998, 302–303. Arcas Campoy, M., and D. Serrano Niza, Ibn Ḥabīb, in Diccionario biográfico español, Real Academia de la Historia, available online: dbe.rah.es (last accessed August 18, 2022). Arnaldez, Ibn Ḥazm, in ei2. Arié, R., Ibn Ḥazm et l’amour courtois, in Revue de l’Occident musulman et de la Méditerranée 40 (1985), 75–89. Arié, R., Un lettré hispano-musulman du haut Moyen Âge: Ibn ʿAbd Rabbih. État des recherches, in Homenaje al profesor José María Fórneas Besteiro, Granada 1995, i, 65– 72. Averbuch, B., Ibn ʿAbd Rabbih, in T. DeYoung and M. St. Germain (eds.), Essays in Arabic literary biography (925–1350), Wiesbaden 2011, 89–93. ba = Lirola Delgado, J., and J.M. Puerta Vílchez (eds.), Biblioteca de al-Ándalus. Enciclopedia de la cultura andalusí, Almería 2004.

432

buendía

Barberá, Epístola de los Genios = Ibn Shuhayd, Risālat al-Tawābiʿ wa l-zawābi. Blachère, R., La vie et l’oeuvre du poète-épistolier andalou Ibn Darrāğ al-Ḳasṭallī, in Hespéris 16 (1933), 99–121. Blachère, R., Un pionnier de la culture arabe orientale en Espagne: Ṣāʿid de Baġdād, in Hespéris 10 (1930), 15–36. Boase, R., Arab influences on European love poetry, in S.K. Jayyusi (ed.), The legacy of Muslim Spain, Leiden-New York-Köln, 1991, 457–482. Bosch Vilá, J., Ibn al-Ḳūṭiyya, in ei2. Brockelmann, C., Ibn ʿAbd Rabbih, in ei2. Buturovic, A., Ibn Quzmān, in M.R. Menocal, R.P. Scheindlin, and M. Sells (eds.), The literature of al-Andalus (The Cambridge History of Arabic Literature), Cambridge 2000, 292–305. Catalán, D., and M. Soledad de Andrés (eds.), Crónica del moro Rasis, Madrid 1974. Chenni, A., and P. Joris, Ibn Darradj al-Qastalli (958–1030): From Ode in praise of alMansur al-Amiri, Emir of Córdoba, in P. Joris and H. Tengour (eds.), Poems for the millennium, Volume Four, Berkeley-Los Angeles, 2013, iv, 53. Colin, G.S., Ibn Ḳuzmān, in ei2. Continente, J.M., Notas sobre la poesía amorosa de Ibn ʿAbd Rabbihi, in Al-Ándalus 35 (1970), 355–380. Continente, J.M., Consideraciones en torno a las relaciones entre la Risālat at-tawābiʿ wa-l-zawābiʿ de Ibn Šuhayd y la Risālat al-gufrān de al-Maʿarrī, in Actas de las jornadas de cultura árabe e islámica, 1978, Madrid 1981, 124–135. Corriente, F., Poesía dialectal árabe y romance en Alandalús, Madrid 1998. Cowell, D., Ibn ʿAbd Rabbihi and his ghazal verse, jal 5 (1974), 72–82. De la Granja, F., Maqāmas y risālas andaluzas, Madrid 1976. De la Granja, Epístola de la espada y el cálamo, in Maqāmas y risālas andaluzas, Madrid, 1997, 32–44. DeYoung, T., Aḥmad ibn ʿAbd Allāh Ibn Zaydūn, in T. DeYoung and M. St. Germain (eds.), Essays in Arabic literary biography (925–1350), Wiesbaden 2011, 204–214. DeYoung, T., Abū Muḥammad Ibn Ḥazm, in T. DeYoung and M. St. Germain (eds.), Essays in Arabic literary biography (925–1350), Wiesbaden 2011, 150–166. DeYoung, T., Abū ʿĀmir Aḥmad Ibn Shuhayd, T. DeYoung and M. St. Germain (eds.), Essays in Arabic literary biography (925–1350), Wiesbaden 2011, 189–203. DeYoung, T., and M. St. Germain (eds.), Essays in Arabic literary biography (925–1350), Wiesbaden 2011. Diccionario biográfico español, Real Academia de la Historia, available online: dbe.rah .es (last accessed August 18, 2022). Dickie, J., Ibn Šuhayd. A biographical and critical study, in Al-Ándalus 29 (1964), 244– 310. Douillet, Démons inspirateurs de poètes et génies = Ibn Shuhayd, Risālat al-Tawābiʿ wa l-zawābi.

literature in qurṭuba

433

ei2 = The Encyclopaedia of Islam, 2nd ed., 11 vols. + supl., Leiden, 1954–2005. Farmer H.G., and Neubauer, E., Ziryāb, in ei2. Fierro, M., Al-Ándalus, saberes e intercambios culturales, Barcelona 2001. Forcada, M., Astronomy, astrology and the sciences of the Ancients in early al-Andalus (2nd/8th–3rd/9th centuries), in zgaiw 16 (2004), 1–74. García Gómez, E., Sobre el nombre y la patria del autor de la muwaššaḥa, in Al-Ándalus 2 (1934), 215–222. García Gómez, E., Un precedente y una consecuencia del ‘Collar de la paloma,’ in AlÁndalus 16 (1951), 309–330. García Gómez, E., Cinco poetas musulmanes. Biografías y estudios, Madrid 1959. García Gómez, E., Todo ben Quzmān = Ibn Quzmān, Dīwān. García Gómez, E., Árabe en endecasílabos, Madrid, 1976. García Gómez, E., Andalucía contra Berbería, Barcelona 1976. Garulo, T., Dīwān de las poetisas de al-Ándalus, Madrid 1986. Garulo, T., El Príncipe Amnistiado en el Ḏamm al-hawà de Ibn al-Ŷawzī, in El Legado marroquí y andalusí: la documentación y la lectura, Tetuán 1991, 49–57. Garulo, T., La literatura árabe de al-Ándalus durante el siglo xi, Madrid 1998. Garulo, T., La biografia de Wallāda, toda problemas, in Anaquel de Estudios Árabes 20 (2009), 97–116. Giffen, L.A., Ibn Ḥazm and the Ṭawq al-ḥamāma, in S.K. Jayyusi (ed.), The Legacy of Muslim Spain, Leiden-New York-Köln, 1991, 420–442. Hämeen-Anttila, J., Ibn Shuhayd and his Risālat al-tawābiʿ wa ʾl-zawābiʿ, in jais 1 (1996– 197), 65–80. Hämeen-Anttila, J., Maqāma: A history of a genre, Wiesbaden 2002. Harvey, L.P. (ed.), Hispano-Arabic strophic poetry: Studies by Samuel Miklos Stern, Oxford 1974. Haykal, A., al-Adab al-andalusī min al-fatḥ ilā suqūṭ al-Khilāfa, Cairo 1985. Heinrichs, W., Ancients and moderns, in J.S. Meisami and P. Starkey (eds.), Encyclopedia of Arabic literature, London 1998, 90–91. Heinrichs, W., Rose versus narcissus. Observations on an Arabic literary debate, in G.J. Reinink and H.L.J. Vanstiphout (eds.), Dispute poems and dialogues in the ancient and mediaeval Near East. Forms and types of literary debates in Semitic and related literatures, Leuven 1991, 179–198. Hillenbrand, R., The ornament of the world, in S.K. Jayyusi (ed.), The legacy of Muslim Spain, Leiden-New York-Köln, 1991, 112–135. Huici Miranda, A., al-Ghazāl, in ei2. Huici Miranda, A., Ibn Ḥabīb, in ei2. Huici Miranda, A., Ibn Ḥayyān, in ei2 Jayyusi, S.K., Andalusi poetry: The golden period, in S.K. Jayyusi (ed.), The legacy of Muslim Spain, Leiden-New York-Köln, 1991, 343–351.

434

buendía

Jones, A., Romance kharjas in Andalusian Arabic muwaššaḥ poetry. A palaeographical analysis, London 1998. Latham, J.D., Muḳaddam b. Muʿāfā, in ei2. Lecomte, G., Ibn Zaydūn, in ei2. Lévi-Provençal, É., ʿAbbās b. Nāṣiḥ, in ei2. Lévi-Provençal, É., ʿAbbās b. Firnās, in ei2. Lévi-Provençal, É., Un échange d’ambassades entre Cordoue et Byzance au ixe siècle, in Byzantion 12 (1937), 1–24. Lévi-Provençal, É., En relisant le ‘Collier de la colombe,’ in al-Ándalus 15 (1950), 335–375. Lévi-Provençal, É., España musulmana. 711–1031 (Ramón Menéndez Pidal, Historia de España, iv), Madrid 1957. Lévi-Provençal, É., España musulmana. 711–1031. Instituciones y arte (Ramón Menéndez Pidal, Historia de España, v), Madrid 1957. Makki, M.A., Ibn Darrād̲ j ̲ al-Ḳasṭallī, in ei2. Makki, M.A., Egipto y los orígenes de la historiografía arábigo-española, in Revista del Instituto de Estudios Islámicos en Madrid 5 (1957), 157–248. Makki, M.A., Ensayo sobre las aportaciones orientales en la España musulmana [1st part], in Revista del Instituto de Estudios Islámicos en Madrid 9–10 (1961–1962), 65– 231. Makki, M.A., Ensayo sobre las aportaciones orientales en la España musulmana [2nd part], in Revista del Instituto de Estudios Islámicos en Madrid 11–12 (1963–1964), 7– 140. Makki, M.A., La España cristiana en el diván de Ibn Darrāŷ, in Boletín de la Real Academia de Buenas Letras de Barcelona 30 (1963–1964), 63–104. Malti-Douglas, F., Ibn Zaydūn: Towards a thematic analysis, in Arabica 23 (1976), 63–76. Martinez-Gros, G., L’amour tracé! Réflexions sur le ‘Collier de la colombe,’ in Arabica 34 (1987), 1–47. Meisami, J.S., and P. Starkey, Encyclopedia of Arabic literature, London 1998. Menocal, M.R., R.P. Scheindlin, and M. Sells (eds.), The literature of al-Andalus (The Cambridge History of Arabic Literature), Cambridge 2000, 64–66. Menocal, M.R., The ornament of the world: How Muslims, Jews, and Christians created a culture of tolerance in medieval Spain, New York 2012. Molina, L., Historiografía, in M.J. Viguera (ed.), Los Reinos de Taifas, (Historia de España de Menéndez Pidal, viii-1), Madrid 1994, 1–27. Monés, H., Ibn Burd [al-Aṣg̲ h̲ar], in ei2. Monroe, J.T., The treatise of familiar spirits and demons, = Ibn Shuhayd, Risālat alTawābiʿ wa l-zawābiʿ. Monroe, J.T., Zajal and muwashshaḥa, in S.K. Jayyusi (ed.), The legacy of Muslim Spain, Leiden-New York-Köln, 1991, 398–419. Monroe, J.T., Abū Bakr ibn ʿAbd al-Malik Ibn Quzmān, T. DeYoung and M. St. Germain (eds.), Essays in Arabic literary biography (925–1350), Wiesbaden 2011, 175–185.

literature in qurṭuba

435

Monroe, J.T., Hispano-Arabic poetry: A student anthology, Berkeley 1974. Monroe, J.T., Which came first, the zajal or the muwaššaḥa?, in Oral tradition 4 (1989), 38–64. Monroe, J.T., The mischievous muse: = Ibn Quzmān, Dīwān. Neale, H., The Dīwān of al-Sharīf al-Ṭalīq, in jal 34 (2003), 20–44. Nykl, A.R., Hispano-Arabic poetry and its relations with the old Provenzal troubadours, Baltimore 1946. Pellat, Ch., lbn Ḥazm, Ibn Šuhayd et la poésie arabe, in al-Mulk. Anuario de estudios arabistas 3 (1963), 87–98. Pellat, Ch., Ibn S̲h̲uhayd, in ei2. Pérès, H., al-Ramādī, in ei2. Reynolds, D., Music, in M.R. Menocal, R.P. Scheindlin, and M. Sells (eds.), The literature of al-Andalus (The Cambridge History of Arabic Literature), Cambridge 2000, 64–66. Rius Piniés, M., Científicos en nómina: mecenazgo científico en el Occidente islámico, in al-Qanṭara 29 (2008), 383–401. Rosen, T., The muwashshah, in M.R. Menocal, R.P. Scheindlin, and M. Sells (eds.), The literature of al-Andalus (The Cambridge History of Arabic Literature), Cambridge 2000, 165–189. Sánchez Ratia, J., Treinta Poemas árabes, Madrid, 1998. Scheindlin, R.P., and V. Barletta, al-Andalus, poetry, in R. Greene (ed.), The Princeton encyclopedia of poetry and poetics, Fourth Edition, Princeton-Oxford, 2012, 27–29. Schoeler, G., Muḥdathūn, ‘the moderns,’ in J.S. Meisami and P. Starkey (eds.), Encyclopedia of Arabic literature, London 1998, 545–546. Schoeler, G., Muwas̲h̲sh̲ ̲ aḥ, in ei2. Serrano, R., al-Sharīf al-Ṭalīq, Jacques Lacan, and the poetics of abbreviation, in J.W. Wright Jr. and E.K. Rowson (eds.), Homoeroticism in classical Arabic literature, New York 1997, 140–157. Sells, M., The nūniyya (poem in n) of Ibn Zaydūn, in M.R. Menocal, R.P. Scheindlin, and M. Sells (eds.), The literature of al-Andalus (The Cambridge History of Arabic Literature), Cambridge 2000, 491–496. Sobh, Poesías = Ibn Zaydūn, Dīwān Ibn Zaydūn. Soravia, B., Ibn Ḥayyān, historien du siècle des Taifas. Une relecture de Ḏaḫīra i/2, 573– 602, in al-Qanṭara 20 (1999), 99–117. Stern, S.M., Literary connections, in L.P. Harvey (ed.), Hispano-Arabic strophic poetry, London, 1974, 204–230. Stetkevych, S.P., Poetic genius and poetic jinnī: The case of Ibn Shuhayd, in ijmes 39 (2007), 333–335. Stewart, D.J., Ibn Zaydūn, in M.R. Menocal, R.P. Scheindlin, and M. Sells (eds.), The literature of al-Andalus (The Cambridge History of Arabic Literature), Cambridge 2000, 306–317.

436

buendía

Terés, E., Ibn Faraŷ de Jaén y su Kitāb al-ḥadāʾiq. Las primeras antologías arábigoandaluzas, in Al-Ándalus 11 (1946), 131–157. Terés, E., Ibn al-Šamir, poeta-astrólogo en la corte de ʿAbd al- Raḥmān ii, in Al-Ándalus 24 (1959), 449–463. Terés, E., Muʾmin ibn Saʿīd, in Al-Ándalus 25 (1960), 455–467. Terés, E.,ʿAbbās ibn Firnās, in Al-Ándalus 25 (1960), 239–249. Terés, E., El poeta Abū-l-Majšī y Ḥassāna la Tamīmiyya, in Al-Ándalus 26 (1961), 241–244. Terés, E., ʿAbbās b. Nāṣiḥ, poeta y qāḍī de Algeciras, in Études d’orientalisme dédiées à la mémoire de Lévi-Provençal, Paris 1962, ii, 339–358. Terés, E., Anecdotario de al-Qalfāṭ, poeta cordobés, in Al-Ándalus 35 (1970), 227–240. Toral-Niehoff, I., History in adab context: “The book on caliphal histories” by Ibn ʿAbd Rabbih (246/860–328/940), in Journal of Abbasid Studies 2 (2015), 61–85. Van Gelder, G.J., Muḥdat̲h̲ūn, in ei2, suppl. 637–640. Van Gelder, G.J., Classical Arabic literature. A library of Arabic literature anthology, New York 2013. Veglison, J., El Collar Único = Ibn ʿAbd Rabbih, al-ʿIqd al-farīd. Vigreux, J., L’épître des ombres et des trombes = Ibn Shuhayd, Risālat al-Tawābiʿ wa lzawābi. Viguera, M.J., al-S̲h̲aḳundī, in ei2. Viguera, M.J., Cronistas de al-Ándalus, in España, al-Ándalus, Sefarad: síntesis y nuevas perspectivas, Salamanca 1988, 85–98. Viguera, M.J. (ed.), Los reinos de Taifas (Historia de España de Menéndez Pidal, viii-1), Madrid 1994. Werkmeister, W., Quellenuntersuchungen zum “Kitab al-ʿIqd al-farīd” des Andalusiers Ibn ʿAbdrabbih (246/860–328/940), Berlin 1983. Zwartjes, O., Love songs from al-Andalus: History, structure, and meaning of the kharja, Leiden 1997. Zwartjes, O., and H. Heijkoop, Muwaššah, zajal, kharja: Bibliography of eleven centuries of strophic poetry and music from al-Andalus and their influence on East and West, Leiden 2004.

chapter 18

Córdoba as a Scientific Center Julio Samsó

1

Introduction

It seems obvious that science is only developed when there is a public or private patronage furnishing scientists with the adequate means for their living. This is why the period during which Cordoba became an important scientific center corresponds to the time in which it was the capital city of al-Andalus, that is, between the conquest in 711 and the fall of the caliphate (ca. 1031), especially under the Umayyad emirs and caliphs. We have practically no information about scientific activity in Cordoba during the period of the ṭawāʾif (ca. 1035– 1085), although we will see that, as the result of the conquest of Toledo by Alfonso vi of Castile in 1085, an extremely important astronomer who had done his research in Toledo since c. 1040, Ibn al-Zarqālluh (d. 1100), migrated to Cordoba, where he was patronized by King al-Muʿtamid of Seville (1069–1091), and continued there his astronomical observations and the compilation of his late works. In the first half of the 12th century, a student of Ibn al-Zarqālluh, Ibn al-Kammād (fl. 1116–1117), was the first to compile three sets of astronomical tables, computed for the geographical coordinates of Cordoba, following Ibn al-Zarqālluh’s theories. This is the end of my chapter because, although important figures like Ibn Rushd (1126–1198) and Maimonides (1135–1204) were born in Cordoba, and the former never lost contact with his native city, those who patronized their research were in Seville, Marrakush, or Cairo, where these scholars developed their main scientific activity.

2

The Survival of a Late Latin Scientific Tradition

There is practically no information about scientific activity until the end of the 8th century, although we know, for example, that ʿAbd al-Raḥmān i (756–788) had a botanical garden in the Cordoban Ruṣāfa, where he tried to acclimatize plants brought from Syria. This foreshadows the later development of the important school of Andalusi agronomists of the 11th and 12th centuries. The Muslim invaders of al-Andalus did not bring with them a new scientific tradition and, during the 8th and 9h centuries we see the survival of a late

© Julio Samsó , 2023 | doi:10.1163/9789004524156_019

438

samsó

Latin science, represented in astrology by the simplified method of astrological prediction according to the “system of the crosses” (ṭarīqat aḥkām al-ṣulub), which avoided mathematical technicalities related to the division of the houses and the computation of precise planetary positions. Serious information about astrological practices appears at the end of the 8th century, where we find the first reference to the interest of the Umayyad emirs in astrology in the time of Hishām i (788–796) who, in spite of his religious beliefs, required the service of al-Ḍabbī (fl. 788–852), the first known Andalusī astrologer,1 who traveled from Algeciras to Cordoba to answer the emir’s dangerous question of calculating the length of his life and reign. Besides this, al-Ḍabbī was the author of a famous astrological urjūza, which is the earliest Andalusī astrological source, of which 38 verses are extant, dealing with meteorological predictions according to the aforementioned system of the crosses. We also have some information about the survival of Latin medicine. Ibn Juljul (b. 943) used Latin historical sources for the compilation of his Kitāb Ṭabaqāt al-aṭibbāʾ wa l-ḥukamāʾ (Generations of physicians and learned men) and states that Andalusī medicine was controlled by Christian physicians until the time of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii (912–961) and that the practice of medicine was based on a book called Aphorisms which the Christians had translated.2 This source gives the names of six Andalusī physicians during the emirates of Muḥammad (852–886), al-Mundhir (886–888), and ʿAbd Allāh (888–912), and five of them were Christians. One of these physicians, Jawād, appears to be the author of the “drug of the monk.” This situation continued during the first half of the 10th century, in which we find another name, that of Yaḥyā b. Isḥāq, the son of a Christian physician, who wrote five booklets of Aphorisms. Ibn Juljul describes him consulting the monk of a monastery about the treatment he should apply to the caliph, who suffered from severe otitis.

3

The Practice of Astrology and Other Occult Sciences (c. 800–950)

The situation began to change in the time of al-Ḥakam i (796–822) and especially under ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii (822–852). The former had his son, ʿAbd alRaḥmān iii, adequately taught in the sciences of the ancients, which shows that the new scientific translations from Sanskrit, Persian, and Greek sources had begun to arrive in Cordoba. Thus, we know that the qāḍī and astrologer ʿAbbās b. Nāṣiḥ (d. after 844) brought to Cordoba, from Iraq, a set of books 1 Samsó, Sobre el astrólogo. 2 Vernet, Los médicos andaluces.

córdoba as a scientific center

439

which were apparently astronomical tables: the titles were al-Zīj (Astronomical tables, a title too vague to allow an identification), al-Qānūn (probably Ptolemy’s Handy tables), al-Sindhind (an Indo-Iranian set of tables, probably in al-Khwārizmī’s recension), al-Arkand (another collection of tables, also of Indian origin) and a book on music (al-Mūsīqā).3 Besides, both al-Ḥakam i and ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii had in their court an important group of poet-astrologers, who are well attested in the sources precisely because they were poets. New information on them has appeared as a result of the publication of Ibn Ḥayyān’s Muqtabis ii-1, which contains an important chapter entitled Akhbār al-munajjimīn maʿa l-amīr (Reports about the relations between the astrologers and the emir).4 The astrologers involved are the aforementioned al-Ḍabbī, Yaḥyā alGhazāl, Ibn al-Shamir, ʿAbbās b. Firnās, Marwān b. Ghazwān etc.5 The chapter in question is mainly concerned with the emir’s attempts to control the veracity of the astrological predictions made by his astrologers in a set of anecdotes, two of which, at least, are also attributed to Eastern astrologers such as Abū Maʿshar and al-Bīrūnī. The new information provided by this source shows the interest ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii and the members of his court had in both astrology and astronomy: the emir himself is credited with the capacity to calculate planetary positions,6 and a musician like Ziryāb is presented as having a deep knowledge of both disciplines.7 Among the courtiers mentioned by Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Ḍabbī, Marwān b. Ghazwān, and Muḥammad b. ʿAbd Allāh b. al-ʿAdhrāʾ were pure astrologers, while al-Ghazāl, Ibn al-Shamir, and ʿAbbās b. Firnās were are also poets.8 It would be worthwhile to establish whether there was an official list (dīwān) of astrologers who received a royal salary, similar to the list of poets (dīwān al-shuʿarāʾ) or the list of physicians (dīwān al-mutaṭabbibīn) which existed in Cordoba under al-Ḥakam ii (961–976). The only hint we have of such an arrangement is the fact that Ibn Saʿīd9 says that ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii assigned to Ibn al-Shamir a double salary (rizq) for his poetry and his astrology (tanjīm), while Ibn Ḥayyān asserts the same about ʿAbbās b. Firnās.10 Were these the only cases? It seems clear, however, that these astrologers moved freely within the court of the emir and that some of them, at least, had a certain privacy with ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii and with Muḥammad. The case of Ibn al-Shamir (who 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Ibn Ḥayyān, Muqtabis ii,1 Arabic 278; Ibn Ḥayyān, Muqtabis ii,1 Spanish 169–170. Ibn Ḥayyān, Muqtabis ii,1 Arabic 389–406; Ibn Ḥayyān, Muqtabis ii,1 Spanish 258–270. Forcada, Investigating the sources of prosopography. See also Rius, Actitud. Forcada, Astronomy, astrology and the sciences 10. Forcada, Astronomy, astrology and the sciences 24; Rius, Actitud 524–527. Forcada, Astronomy, astrology and the sciences 14. Ibn Saʿīd, Mughrib 125. Ibn Ḥayyān, Muqtabis ii,1 Arabic 348; Ibn Ḥayyān, Muqtabis ii, 1 Spanish 226.

440

samsó

had predicted ʿAbd al-Raḥmān’s accession to the throne) is well known.11 Such privacy was dangerous in some cases, and both Marwān b. Ghazwān and alḌabbī were severely punished (the latter was condemned to death) because they divulged secrets of what was going on in the palace. Besides, we also know that they had access to books kept in the royal library and their predictions often had political implications: such is the case of Yaḥyā al-Ghazāl (773–864) who cast the horoscope of the death of Naṣr, the powerful minister of ʿAbd alRaḥmān ii. Surprisingly, according to the horoscope, Naṣr’s death was going to take place on July 17, 851, while he actually died in March of that year.12 On the other hand, it has been said that this introduction of astrology in the court is somehow related to the first manifestations of the Muʿtazila movement (Yaḥyā al-Ghazāl)13 and of [ḥarrānian?] magic (al-Ḍabbī,14 ʿAbbās b. Firnās15). One should remember that Yaḥyā al-Ghazāl had traveled to the East and that al-Ḥarrānī, obviously a ḥarrānian, was a physician in the service of ʿAbd alRaḥmān ii. Astrology was strongly attacked by fuqahāʾ (jurists) like ʿAbd al-Malik b. Ḥabīb (d. 853), who tried to defend the existence of a legitimate folk astronomy tradition (anwāʾ and manāzil).16 In any case, the astrological tradition seems to have decayed under Muḥammad i (852–886) and his followers, until the reign of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii (912–961). At the turn of the 9th to 10th century, only one astrologer is known: Ibn al-Samīna (d. 927–928), who was also competent in literary and religious sciences, as well as in medicine.17 In spite of this, it is clear that Cordoban astrologers must have continued practicing their profession, for an anecdote mentioned by the poet and expert in adab Ibn ʿAbd Rabbihi (860–940) shows the astrologer Ibn ʿAdhrāʾ and a group of colleagues trying to predict the end of a period of drought.18 In the 10th century, astrology seems to be replaced by more esoteric disciplines like magic and alchemy: in the first half of the century we see the publication of two important works authored by Abū l-Qāsim Maslama b. al-Qāsim al-Qurṭubī (d. 964), who should not be confused with the mathematician and astronomer Maslama b.

11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18

See Terés, Ibn al-Šamir. Samsó, Cuatro horóscopos 482–488. Forcada, Astronomy, astrology and the sciences 40–44. See Samsó, Sobre el astrólogo. Forcada, Astronomy, astrology and the sciences 25 and 39. Kunitzsch, ʿAbd al-Malik ibn Ḥabīb. Forcada, Biografías 215. See Ibn Marzūq, Musnad Arabic 443; Ibn Marzūq, Musnad Spanish 365–366; Samsó, The early development.

córdoba as a scientific center

441

Aḥmad al-Majrīṭī (d. 1007):19 the former is the author of the great treatises on magic and alchemy entitled Ghāyat al-ḥakīm (Picatrix) and Rutbat al-ḥakīm. More or less at the same time, Abū ʿAlī b. al-Ḥasan b. al-Ḥātim, about whom we only know that he observed, somewhere in al-Andalus, the solar eclipse of July 19, 939, wrote a much shorter magical work, known in Europe through a Latin translation entitled De imaginibus caelestibus.20 Interestingly, Maslama b. al-Qāsim made a long journey to the East, an essential part of the education of any scholar of the time (riḥla fī ṭalab al-ʿilm), and met, either in Qulzum (Suez) or in Cordoba, another important scholar of the first half of the 10th century: Abū Muḥammad Qāsim b. Muṭarrif alQaṭṭān, the author of the earliest astronomical treatise written in al-Andalus.21 This work, entitled Kitāb al-Hayʾa (book on cosmology) does not correspond to the standard meaning of the word hayʾa, although it deals with the sizes and geocentric distances of planets. It is an elementary introduction to astronomy containing references (probably indirect) to Ptolemy’s Almagest and the observations made in Baghdad and Damascus ca. 830 by the astronomers of Caliph al-Maʾmūn. He also refers to the work made by another Maslama: Maslama b. Aḥmad al-Majrīṭī (d. 1007), the leading expert in mathematics and astronomy during the 10th century.

4

Maslama al-Majrīṭī and the Maturity of the Cordoban Exact Sciences

Maslama al-Majrīṭī represents the stage in which the exact sciences reached a level of maturity in al-Andalus, and is the founder of a school which exerted its influence in the brilliant development of mathematics in Zaragoza, and of astronomy in Toledo, in the 11th century. His most important disciples were Aḥmad b. al-Ṣaffār (d. 1035) and Abū l-Qāsim b. al-Samḥ (d. 1035). The three aforementioned scientists worked on arithmetic and geometry and a long fragment of what was probably Ibn al-Samḥ’s great treatise on geometry (Kitāb Kabīr fī l-handasa), dealing with plane sections of the cylinder and their surface, has been preserved in a 14th-century Hebrew translation. In it, Ibn alSamḥ shows that he is aware of the important mathematical developments made in Baghdad in the 9th century by the brothers Banū Mūsā.22 19 20 21 22

Fierro, Bāṭinism; de Callataÿ, Magia. Oliveras, El de imaginibus. De Callataÿ and Moureau, A milestone. Rashed, Les mathématiques infinitésimales 885–973.

442

samsó

Their main concern, however, seems to have been mathematical astronomy. Maslama was interested in the theory of stereographic projection on which the astrolabe is based. Such projection was the object of a detailed analysis in Ptolemy’s Planisphaerium, a book translated into Arabic and later revised by Maslama, who added to it his own comments.23 Both Ibn al-Ṣaffār and Ibn al-Samḥ wrote treatises on the use of the astrolabe, an instrument which became quite common in Cordoba in the second half of the 10th century: a Latin manuscript at the National Library in Paris contains a detailed series of drawings of an Andalusi astrolabe (with inscriptions in Arabic and their corresponding Latin translations) made by Khalaf b. al-Muʿādh towards the end of the 10th century.24 Muḥammad b. al-Ṣaffār, the brother of the aforementioned astronomer, was an instrument maker, and two astrolabes made by him, dated to 1026 and 1029, are extant.25 The reputation of this school is mainly based on their work related to the astronomical tables (zīj) of al-Khwārizmī: al-Khwārizmī’s original zīj, compiled in the first half of the 9th century, has not been preserved, although we know that it might have been introduced in al-Andalus at an early date. In the 10th century, it was the object of several recensions made by Maslama, Ibn al-Ṣaffār, and Ibn al-Samḥ. Only a small part of Ibn al-Ṣaffār’s recension (seven chapters) has been preserved in Arabic written in Hebrew script.26 We have no information about Ibn al-Samḥ’s similar work, although Maslama’s has been preserved in two Latin translations made by Adelard of Bath (fl. 1116–1142) ca. 112627 and Petrus Alfonsi.28 Al-Khwārizmī’s zīj corresponds to an early stage in the development of Islamic astronomy. It derives from an Indo-Iranian astronomical tradition which exerted a strong influence in Andalusi and Maghrebi astronomy. In spite of the Indian origin of the mean motion parameters, the formal presentation of the mean motion tables had been the object of important changes ascribed by tradition to Maslama (according to the qāḍī Ṣāʿid of Toledo) or to Ibn alṢaffār (according to Ibn ʿEzra). The original tables used Persian years of 365 days, without fractions. The radix for the computation of mean motions cor23 24 25 26 27 28

Vernet and Catalá, Las obras matemáticas; Kunitzsch and Lorch, Maslama’s notes. Kunitzsch, Traces. On Andalusi astrolabes, see King, Instruments 359, 951–957, 1006. For an edition of the Arabic text and a commentary of its contents, see Castells and Samsó, Seven chapters. Suter, Die Astronomischen Tafeln; Neugebauer, The Astronomical Tables; van Dalen, AlKhwārizmī; see also Pingree, Indian astronomy. See Neugebauer, The Astronomical Tables 133–234; Casulleras, Las Tablas astronómicas de Pedro Alfonso.

córdoba as a scientific center

443

responded to the beginning of the reign of the last Sassanian king, Yazdijird iii (June 16, 632). Instead of this system, the preserved tables use the Muslim lunar calendar of 354 or 355 days, and the radix values are calculated for the beginning of the Hijra (July 14, 622). To this, one should add that the zīj contains materials having a Ptolemaic origin. The possibility of a Khwārizmian origin of these materials cannot be rejected cathegorically, because al-Khwārizmī was a contemporary of the Abbasid caliph al-Maʾmūn (813–833) and lived in a period of time in which the Islamic East had a thorough knowledge of both the Almagest and the Handy tables. There is, however, a certain number of instances in which the evidence furnished by other sources shows that some of these Ptolemaic materials were introduced by Maslama himself or a member of his school. Maslama was probably responsible for the adaptation of certain tables of the zīj to the geographical coordinates of Cordoba. There are some tables with these characteristics, like the table for the computation of the conjunction and opposition of the sun and the moon, adjusted for the meridian of Cordoba, and the mean motion tables of the lunar ascending node, which contain a supplementary table both for the midday of Córdoba and for a period comprised between years 360/960 and 570/1174. Obviously, this does not match al-Khwārizmī’s life-time. Besides all this, many astrological tables contained in the zīj seem to be Maslama’s additions. A clear example is represented by the tables for the equation of the houses and the tables for casting the rays. The latter represent one-fifth of all the tabular material of the zīj, they are calculated for the latitude of Cordoba (38°, 30’) and are the result of Maslama’s own work. Other instances of a possible intervention by Maslama can be found in the use of the Hispanic Era (January 1, -37), as well as in the reference to the supplementary day in bisextile years that is added at the end of December and will have 31 days in common years and 32 in bisextile years. This custom is well documented in Hispanic sources, and it is usually related to the Mozarabs. An example can be seen in the Calendar of Córdoba,29 where we can read that this practice corresponds to the habits of the ʿajam (non-Arabs, who speak a Romance language), unlike the Syrians, who intercalate the extra day at the end of February. An important feature of Maslama and Ibn al-Ṣaffār’s revisions of al-Khwārizmī’s zīj is that they both use a meridian of Cordoba which has a time difference from the center of the world (Arin)30 of four hours and twelve minutes, 29 30

ʿArīb b. Saʿīd al-Kātib al-Qurṭubī, Calendrier de Cordoue 16–17. Arin was a fictitious locality placed on the equator and at a longitude distance of 90° from both the eastern and western limits of the inhabited world.

444

samsó

corresponding to a difference in longitude of 63°. This implies that they are using the “meridian of water” placed in the Atlantic Ocean at a distance of 27° to the west of Cordoba, instead of the 9° 20′ which is the standard longitude of Cordoba in sources related to the Ptolemaic geographical tradition, which uses the meridian of the Fortunate Islands as prime meridian. The use of this prime meridian had an interesting peculiarity: the geographical tables found in western Islamic ʾazyāj and similar sources gave the longitudes of Andalusi and Maghrebi localities measured from the meridian of water, while the longitudes of Eastern cities were usually calculated from the meridian of the Canary Islands. This implied that the length of the Mediterranean was considerably reduced and reached values similar to the modern ones.31 This topic has been analysed in detail by Mercè Comes32 by considering the longitude differences between Tangier and Alexandria, Cordoba and Alexandria, Toledo and Damascus, and Toledo and Alexandria and establishing that in all cases, the error in the Ptolemaic geographical tradition, which uses the prime meridian of the Canary Islands, lies between 16° and 19°. The correction introduced by alKhwārizmī, who used the meridian of the Atlantic shore of Africa, improved the situation and the error was reduced to between 7° and 10°. Finally, the differences in longitude in sources using the water meridian differ between 0° and 2° from the modern value. Maslama, as well as the majority of astronomers, also practiced astrology. On the occasion of the great conjunction of Saturn and Jupiter which was going to take place in 1007, he predicted the ruin of the state because in the conjunction, Saturn (malefic) prevailed over Jupiter (benefic). This is why he stated that the situation would be overturned, the state would fall in other hands, and there would be killings and famine. The fitna (period of civil wars after the fall of the caliphate) arrived later and produced worse effects than those predicted by Maslama. Maslama could not see to what extent his prognostication was accurate, since the conjunction took place in the same year as his death. This kind of prediction seems to have annoyed ḥājib al-Manṣūr (981–1002), in whose time a return to Muslim orthodoxy, always suspicious of the admissibility of astrology, took place and led to a selective burning of the library of al-Ḥakam ii, including, obviously, books on astrology. According to Ibn alKhaṭīb, al-Manṣūr arrested, tortured, and executed soothsayers (mukahhinūn) and astrologers (munajjimūn) because of their predictions about the end of his regime.33 Ibn ʿIdhārī, on his side, states that Muḥammad b. Abī Jumʿa published 31 32 33

See, on this topic, Robles, The longitude of the Mediterranean. Comes, Islamic geographical coordinates, 129–132. Ibn al-Khaṭīb, Aʿmāl 89 (Rabat ed.), or 77 (Beirut ed.).

córdoba as a scientific center

445

false rumors about the existence of a malefic celestial element (qaṭʿ), which would imply the end of al-Manṣūr’s regime and, for this reason, the ḥājib cut Muḥammad’s tongue and crucified him.34 In spite of this, there is some evidence that there were important exceptions to this policy. Ibn Bassām, using information gathered in Ibn Ḥayyān’s Matīn, explains that Aḥmad b. Fāris al-Munajjim had studied the nativity horoscope of al-Manṣūr’s son, al-Muẓaffar, when he was a child. He had never seen a horoscope with happier prospects. Ibn Ḥayyān satirizes this prediction as a result of the unhappy outcome of the life of al-Muẓaffar.35 Al-Muẓaffar’s horoscope is not the only one. There is evidence showing that the upper classes were also interested in astrology, in spite of its official rejection, and had horoscopes cast in the moment of the birth of their children. Such is the case of the famous writer Ibn Ḥazm (d. 1064) of Cordoba, whose father occupied important posts in al-Manṣūr’s administration: we have some details of his nativity horoscope. The situation was not clear enough, however, as the astrologer Aḥmad b. Fāris felt the need to defend astrology by linking it to the religiously acceptable folk astronomy.36

5

Pharmacology in the Court of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii (912–961)

Medicine and the natural sciences also knew a development in 10th century Cordoba. The new medicine, based on Greek sources, had probably reached the city during the reign of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii (822–852), in whose court we find an Eastern physician called al-Ḥarrānī. The process had attained its full development in the first half of the 10th century, in which we find the figure of Saʿīd b. ʿAbd Rabbihi (d. 953–954 or 966–967), the author of an urjūza fī l-ṭibb (medical poem), which seems to be the earliest extant Andalusi medical text, and which shows a full assimilation of the works of Hippocrates and Galen.37 He also wrote a book on compound drugs (Kitāb al-Aqrābādhin), which is one of the many instances showing the interest in pharmacology which appeared in 10th-century Cordoba and exerted a strong influence in the development of this discipline in al-Andalus during the following centuries. An outstanding event took place in this period: the revision of the Arabic translation of Dioscorides’s Materia medica, the great Greek treatise of bot34 35 36 37

Ibn ʿIdhārī, Bayān ii, 294. Ibn Bassām, Dhakhīra vii, 79. Forcada, A New Andalusian Astronomical Source; Forcada, Astrology and folk astronomy. Kuhne, La Urŷūza.

446

samsó

any applied to medicine. This work had been translated into Arabic (ca. 847– 861) in the East by Stephen son of Basilios, and this translation had arrived in Cordoba. The translator had not been able to identify all the Greek names of the plants, and in many instances, he had merely transliterated the Greek name into Arabic characters. As a result of this, physicians and botanists who read the book were totally unable to understand the descriptions of many unidentified plants and their uses. According to Ibn Juljul (944–after 994),38 Caliph ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii received from the Byzantine emperor Romanos ii (ca. 948) an illuminated manuscript containing the Greek text of Dioscorides.39 As there was nobody in Cordoba who knew Greek, the caliph asked the Byzantine emperor to send to him a scholar who knew both Greek and Latin and, as a result of this, a monk named Nicholas arrived in Cordoba and began to work together with a team of Cordoban physicians to identify all the names of the plants mentioned by Dioscorides. Ibn Juljul mentions the members of this team, among which we find the Jewish physician of the caliph Ḥasdāy ben Shaprūṭ, Muḥammad al-Shajjār (the botanist), al-Basbāshī, Abū ʿUthmān alJazzār, Muḥammad b. Saʿīd, ʿAbd al-Raḥmān b. Isḥāq b. al-Haytham, and Abū ʿAbd Allāh al-Ṣiqillī. At a later date, after the beginning of the caliphate of al-Ḥakam ii (961– 976), Ibn Juljul seems to have been incorporated into the team, as in 982, he wrote the Tafsīr asmāʾ al-adwiya al-mufrada min kitāb Dioscorides (Explanation of the names of simple drugs in Dioscorides’s book), which probably was the official report of the aforementioned commission.40 The extant fragment of this book contains the systematic transliteration of the Greek names of 317 simple drugs, their Arabic translation, and finally, their identification. To this he added a second book, entitled Maqāla fī dhikr al-adwiya allatī lam yadhkur-hā Dioscorides (Explanation of the drugs not mentioned by Dioscorides),41 which marks the beginning of the long series of additions to the works of the Greek physician made by Andalusi botanists and pharmacologists.

38 39 40 41

Vernet, Los médicos andaluces. Ibn Juljul seems to confuse Romanos ii (959–963) with his father Constantine vii (913– 959). Garijo, Explicación is an attempt to reconstruct this lost work. Garijo, El tratado de Ibn Ŷulŷul; Garijo, Tratado octavo; Dietrich, Die Ergänzung.

córdoba as a scientific center

6

447

Abū l-Qāsim al-Zahrāwī (ca. 936–1013) and the Height of Cordoban Medicine

I have already mentioned Saʿīd b. ʿAbd Rabbihi, to whom I should add two more names of important physicians. The first one is ʿArīb b. Saʿīd (ca. 912–980), the author of the Calendar of Córdoba, who also wrote the first independent treatise on obstetrics and pediatrics: his Kitāb Khalq al-janīn wa-tadbīr al-ḥabālā wa l-mawlūdīn (On the generation of the fetus and the treatment of pregnant women and newborns),42 which also deals with sexology. The sources mentioned are both Greek (Hippocrates, Galen, and Dioscorides) and Arab (Isḥāq b. ʿImrān, Yaḥyā b. Māsawayh, and ʿĪsā b. Mūsā), but he also uses an Indian treatise on erotology, which he probably knew indirectly from ʿAlī b. Rabban al-Ṭabarī’s Firdaws al-ḥikma (Paradise of wisdom). His ideas on the generation of the fetus have a clear hippocratic origin, as he considers it the result of the union of male and female sperm. He is interested in problems of genetics, such as the similarity between parents and children and the causes of the birth of twins and conjoined twins, and gives information about a case of hermaphroditism. He also deals with the problem of impotency, due to physiological or psychological causes, as well as with medical astrology: he analyses the planetary influences during the nine-month gestation. Far more important is Abū l-Qāsim al-Zahrāwī (ca. 936–1013), a surprisingly brilliant physician appearing in the second half of the tenth century, without significant predecessors in al-Andalus, who reached the highest level in the history of Arab medicine. He is far more important in medicine than Maslama in the field of the exact sciences, and could only be compared to the Toledan astronomer Ibn al-Zarqālluh of the next century. Nothing is known about his biography, although it is clear that he lived in Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, the government city built by ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii near Cordoba, and it has been discussed whether he acted as a physician in the service of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii, al-Ḥakam ii or even the ḥājib al-Manṣūr b. Abī ʿĀmir. His great medical encyclopedia bears the title of Kitāb al-Taṣrīf li-man ʿajiza ʿan al-taʾālīf, which can be translated as “Book which allows to practice those who wish to disregard other compilations.” The book is intended to serve students beginning to study medicine, and to be a reference book for practical physicians. It pretends to be self-sufficient and to allow the reader to do without the medical literature produced in Eastern Islam and without “the incompre-

42

Edition and French translation in ʿArīb, Khalq al-janīn.

448

samsó

hensible works of the Ancients,”43 implying that it was difficult to understand the Greek-Arabic translations produced in the East. This does not mean that al-Zahrāwī was unaware of the Eastern medical literature, which he knew well and combined with the results of his own experience. The Taṣrīf is divided into an introduction and thirty books. Books one and two deal with general medicine and study the nature of man and its temperament, anatomy, pathology, and the classification of diseases, symptoms, and medical treatment. He considers the knowledge of anatomy to be essential for any surgeon and he deals with it carefully. He describes and analyzes 325 diseases, following mainly al-Rāzī, whose book on differential diagnosis of smallpox and measles he knew well. His treatment of fevers derives directly from Isḥāq b. Sulaymān al-Isrāʾīlī, but his most important contribution in this field is that he is the author of one of the earliest descriptions of hemophilia. The Taṣrīf deals also with hygiene and diet (books 26 and 27) as well as medical pharmacology (books 3–25 and 28–29). Book 19 is the first independent treatise on cosmetology in al-Andalus,44 while book 28 deals with the preparation of a compound drug using simples of a vegetal, animal, or mineral origin. He is strongly influenced by Dioscorides, although he adds many details not to be found in the Materia medica. His starting point is the humoral theory of Hippocrates and Galen, and his drugs have the four hippocratic qualities (hotcold and humid-dry) and the four galenic degrees. His books 25 and 28 describe laboratory techniques in detail, and have a certain interest for the history of chemistry. Al-Zahrāwī’s great reputation is mainly due to book 30 of the Taṣrīf,45 a treatise on surgery based on the work of the Byzantine physician Paul of Aegina (ca. 625–690) and on Abū l-Qāsim’s own experience. In the prologue of book 30, our author complains of the extremely low level attained by surgery in his time, and gives examples of cases in which the patient has died due to the surgeon’s incompetence. The surgeon should be extremely prudent in his professional activity, and al-Zahrāwī gives criteria to establish whether a surgical operation is advisable or, on the contrary, it is useless and dangerous. Book 30 is divided into three parts. The first deals with the surgical treatment with cauteries and caustics used in 50 kinds of diseases, sometimes improperly, but in other cases yielding good results. The second part, divided into 99 chapters, contains an explanation of all those surgical operations made with the knife, including the practice of bleeding, which should not be applied to 43 44 45

Hamarneh and Sonnedecker, A farmaceutical view 37. Hamarneh, The first known independent treatise on cosmetology in Spain. Edition and translation in al-Zahrāwī, Book 30.

córdoba as a scientific center

449

children under 14, to men or women older than 60, or to all sick persons who have lost their strength due to physical or moral causes. Many of al-Zahrāwī’s descriptions are remarkable. In his treatment of wounds, he describes techniques of suture and mentions the use of giant ants: the insect is led to bite the two lips of the wound and then its head is cut off. Our author seems to be the first to use fine threads made with the intestines of animals, equivalent to modern catgut. He is also an expert in obstetrics and explains carefully how to extract a dead fetus from its mother, including the procedure to break the skull when the head of the fetus is too big to be extracted. Al-Zahrāwī also deals with aesthetic surgery, and explains interesting techniques to reduce the excessively developed breasts of both men and women and deal with cases of androgyny. The third part of book 30 is concerned with fractures and dislocations. It explains in detail how to treat fractures of different parts of the body, following the general principle of reducing the fracture first and then immobilizing the broken limb. In the case of an elbow dislocation, al-Zahrāwī describes the use of a kind of plaster mixed with egg white, over which the surgeon applies a compressive bandage. One of the main reasons for the prestige attained by book 30 lies in the large number of drawings of surgical instruments appearing in the manuscripts of the Taṣrīf, including cauteries, scalpels, scissors, hooks, forceps, syringes, canulas, catheters, saws, pincers, suture needles, spoons, and wooden instruments used to reduce fractures and dislocations. Al-Zahrāwī’s contributions in this field are remarkable, especially in obstetrics: he designed, for example, a vaginal speculum and an obstetric forceps used to extract a dead fetus.

7

Ibn al-Zarqālluh and Ibn al-Kammād in Cordoba (End of the 11th to the Beginning of the 12th Century)

The fall of the caliphate and the beginning of the period of the ṭawāʾif mark an end to the existence of a scientific center in Cordoba, due to the lack of patronage, while scientific activity was displaced to other cities like Zaragoza and Toledo. With the arrival of the period of civil wars, Ibn al-Samḥ (d. 1035), a disciple of Maslama, left Cordoba and went to Granada, where he was protected by Ḥabūs b. Māksan (1019–1038). Ibn al-Ṣaffār (d. 1035), another of Maslama’s disciples, fled to Denia under the patronage of Mujāhid (ca. 1010–1045). These migrations of important astronomers to Granada and Denia pose the problem of establishing to what extent the members of Maslama’s school had to leave Cordoba because they had been protected by the circles of political power of

450

samsó

the ʿAmiri dynasty (al-Manṣūr b. Abī ʿĀmir and his sons), who could have exerted patronage in a hidden way due to these scholars’ implication in astrology: the case of Ibn al-Ṣaffār is particularly significant because Mujāhid of Denia was a mawlā of the ʿAmiris, and his kingdom was a standard place of asylum for those who had served al-Manṣūr’s family. In spite of this, astronomy continued to be the object of research in Cordoba at the end of the 11th and beginning of the 12th century. This was the result of the conquest of Toledo by Alfonso vi of Castile (1065–1109) in 1085, which caused the migration to Cordoba of the greatest astronomer in al-Andalus: Abū Isḥāq Ibrāhīm b. Yaḥyā al-Naqqāsh, known as Ibn al-Zarqālluh/ Zarqiyāl/ Azarquiel (d. 1100).46 We do not know the exact date on which he left Toledo and arrived in Cordoba: the sources disagree when they state that he left Toledo either at the beginning of the reign of Yaḥyā ii al-Qādir of Toledo (1075–1085), or when the city was conquered by Alfonso vi. In Cordoba he was patronized by al-Muʿtamid b. ʿAbbād (1069–1091), king of the Taifa of Seville, which included Cordoba, to whom he had already dedicated a book on the use of the universal astrolabe, named al-Ṣafīḥa al-ʿabbādiyya (The ʿabbādiyya plate), when the future ruler, al-Muʿtamid, was only eight or nine years old. In this city, he continued his astronomical observations until at least 1087–1088, and was helped by a student identified conjecturally with Ibn al-Kammād (see below). According to Ibn al-Zarqālluh, he observed the sun, the moon, and the fixed stars during his 25 years in Toledo and later in Cordoba. Some of Ibn al-Zarqālluh’s books were probably compiled in Cordoba. Such is the case of: 1. A lost work in which he summarizes his 25 years of solar observations, which was probably written ca. 1075–1080. Its title was either Fī sanat alshams (On the solar year) or al-Risāla al-jāmiʿa fī l-shams (A comprehensive epistle on the sun). Its contents are known through secondary sources, both Arabic and Latin. In it Ibn al-Zarqalluh established that the solar apogee had its own motion of about 1° in 279 Julian years and designed a solar model with variable eccentricity which became extremely influential, both in the Maghrib and in Latin Europe, until the time of Copernicus. 2. A treatise on the motion of the fixed stars, written ca. 476/1084–1085 and extant in a Hebrew translation. Its title was, according to al-Biṭrūjī, Maqāla fī ḥarakat al-iqbāl wa l-idbār (On accession and recession). It contains a study of three different trepidation models.

46

Millás and Millás, Estudios sobre Azarquiel; Samsó, Las Ciencias, 147–152, 166–240.

córdoba as a scientific center

3.

451

A treatise on the use of the equatorium, a computational instrument whose purpose is to determine graphically the planetary longitudes, avoiding the long calculation needed to obtain them when using a set of astronomical tables (zīj). The instrument bears the title of al-ṣafīḥa al-zījiyya (a plate with the same applications as a zīj). It was written in 1081–1082 for the library of king al-Muʿtamid. Another treatise on the construction of the same instrument, dated one year earlier, has only been preserved in an Alfonsine Castilian translation. Ibn al-Zarqālluh’s astronomical research was continued in the beginning of the 12th century by Ibn al-Kammād (fl. 1116–1117) who, as we have seen, was probably the student who assisted him in his astronomical observations in Cordoba. We know that he is the author of three ʾazyāj (astronomical tables) named al-Kawr ʿalā l-dawr (The cyclical revolutions), al-Amad ʿalā l-abad (Valid for all times) and al-Muqtabas (Extracted [from other sources]), as well as of an astrological work entitled Mafātīḥ al-asrār (Keys of the secrets). Al-Kawr and al-Amad do not seem to be extant, although fragments have been preserved in the Latin translation of the Muqtabas and in a Castilian translation extant in the Cathedral of Segovia.47 The Muqtabas zīj, which seems to be a summary of the other two ʾazyāj, has been preserved in a Latin translation made in Palermo in 1262 by Johannes de Dumpno, as well as in a Hebrew translation by Solomon Franco (fl. 1375).48 A few chapters of the original Arabic text can be found in manuscripts of the National Library of Algiers, the Library of El Escorial, and in a Hyderabad library. As for the Mafātīḥ al-asrār, only a long chapter dealing with the computation of the animodar, an astrological technique which tries to establish the moment of the conception of the newborn, is extant in Arabic.49 Ibn al-Kammād follows Ibn al-Zarqālluh’s ideas on trepidation—although with important differences in the model (severely criticized by Ibn al-Hāʾim al-Ishbīlī ca. 1205)—as well as on the solar model (motion of the solar apogee and variable solar eccentricity). Interestingly, the Muqtabas zīj is the only Andalusi set of tables calculated for the geographical coordinates of Cordoba, although we have seen a precedent in Maslama’s recension of al-Khwārizmī’s zīj. The Muqtabas contains tables dependent on the latitude of Cordoba (38° 30′): table of oblique ascensions and table for half duration of daylight for this city. Other references to Cordoba appear in chapters 9–11 of the canons. The solar and planetary apogees, as well as the radix positions of the solar, lunar,

47 48 49

Mancha, On Ibn al-Kammād’s table for trepidation. Chabás and Goldstein, Andalusian Astronomy 1 and 2. Vernet, Un tractat; Díaz-Fajardo, Gestation times.

452

samsó

and planetary mean motions, are given for the Cordoban midday at the beginning of the Hijra (July 15, 622), and two different longitudes of the city appear mentioned in the canons, which together imply the use of two different prime meridians: 27° from the meridian of water and 9° from the Canary Islands. Apart from this, I can only say that the mean motion parameters seem to be the result of small corrections to those of the Toledan tables. There is nothing exceptional in the rest of the tables of this zīj, which shows the use of different source materials derived from the tradition of Ptolemy (Almagest and Handy tables) and al-Battānī (d. 929), mixed with Ibn al-Zarqālluh and the Indian tradition of al-Khwārizmī’s zīj. It is interesting, however, to remark that Ibn al-Kammād’s Muqtabas is practically the only Andalusī astronomical source which bears witness to the influence of Yaḥyā b. Abī Manṣūr’s (fl. 830) al-Zīj al-mumtaḥan, the set of tables compiled as a result of the observations made in Baghdad and Damascus under the patronage of the Abbasid caliph al-Maʾmūn (813–833).

Bibliography Primary Sources ʿArīb b. Saʿīd al-Kātib al-Qurṭubī, Kitāb Khalq al-janīn wa-tadbīr al-ḥabālā wa l-mawlūdīn. Le Livre de la genération du foetus et le traitement des femmes enceintes et des nouveaux-nés, eds. and trans. H. Jahier and N. Abdelkader, Alger 1956. Dozy, R., and Ch. Pellat (eds. and trans.), Le Calendrier de Cordoue, Leiden 1961. Ibn Bassām, Dhakhīra: Ibn Bassām, al-Dhakhīra fī maḥāsin ahl al-jazīra, ed. I. ʿAbbās, vol. 7, Beirut 1968. Ibn Ḥayyān, Muqtabis ii,1: Ibn Ḥayyān, al-Sifr al-thānī min kitāb al-Muqtabis li-Ibn Ḥayyān al-Qurṭubī, ed. M.ʿA. Makkī, Riyāḍ 1424/2003. Ibn Ḥayyān, Muqtabis ii,1: Crónica de los emires Alḥakam i y ʿAbdarraḥmān ii entre los años 796 y 847, trans. M.ʿA. Makkī and F. Corriente, in al-Muqtabis ii-1, Zaragoza 2001. Ibn ʿIdhārī, Bayān: Ibn ʿIdhārī, Bayān al-mughrib, eds. G.S. Colin and E. Lévi-Provençal, vol. 2, Beirut 1980. Ibn al-Khaṭīb, Aʿmāl: Ibn al-Khaṭīb, Aʿmāl al-aʿlām, ed. E. Lévi-Provençal, Rabat 1934; Beirut 1956. Ibn Marzūq, Musnad Arabic: Ibn Marzūq, al-Musnad al-ṣaḥīḥ al-ḥasan fī maʾāthir wa maḥāsin mawlānā Abī l-Ḥasan, ed. M.J. Viguera. Algiers 1981. Ibn Marzūq, Musnad Spanish: M.J. Viguera (trans.), El Musnad: hechos memorables de Abū-l-Ḥasan, sultán de los benimerines, Madrid 1977. Ibn Saʿīd, al-Mughrib fī ḥulā al-Maghrib, ed. Sh. Ḍayf, vol. 1, Cairo 1953. al-Maqqarī, Nafḥ al-ṭīb, ed. I. ʿAbbās, vol. 2, Beirut 1968.

córdoba as a scientific center

453

Ṣāʿid al-Andalusī, Ṭabaqāt al-umam, ed. Ḥ. Bū ʿAlwān, Beirut 1985. Suter, H., and al-Khwārizmī, Die Astronomischen Tafeln des Muḥammed ibn Mūsā alKhwārizmī in der Bearbeitung des Maslama ibn Aḥmad al-Madjrīṭī und der latein. Uebersetzung des Athelhard von Bath auf Grund der Vorarbeiten von A. Björnbo+ und R. Besthorn in Kopenhagen, Köbenhavn 1914. al-Zahrāwī, Book 30: Abulcasis on surgery and instruments. A definitive edition of the Arabic text with English translation and commentary, eds. and trans. M.S. Spink and G.L. Lewis, Berkeley 1973.

Secondary Sources Castells, M., Medicine in al-Andalus until the fall of the caliphate, in M.I. Fierro and J. Samsó (eds.), The formation of al-Andalus. Part 2: Language, religion, culture and the sciences, Aldershot 1998, 393–402. Castells, M., and J. Samsó, Seven chapters of Ibn al-Ṣaffār’s lost zīj, in Archives Internationales d’Histoire des Sciences 45 (1995), 229–262. Repr. in Samsó, 2007, no. 3. Casulleras, J., Las Tablas astronómicas de Pedro Alfonso, in M.J. Lacarra (ed.), Estudios sobre Pedro Alfonso, Huesca 1996, 349–366. Casulleras, J., The contents of Qāsim ibn Muṭarrif al-Qaṭṭān’s Kitāb al-hayʾa, in M.I. Fierro and J. Samsó (eds.), The formation of al-Andalus. Part 2: Language, religion, culture and the sciences, Aldershot 1998, 339–358. Casulleras, J., and J. Samsó (eds.), From Baghdad to Barcelona, Barcelona 1996. Chabás, J., and B.R. Goldstein, Andalusian astronomy: al-Zīj al-muqtabis of Ibn alKammād, in Archive for history of exact sciences 48 (1994), 1–41. Repr. in Chabás and Goldstein, Essays on Medieval Computational Astronomy, Leiden and Boston 2015, 179–226. Chabás, J., and B.R. Goldstein, Ibn al-Kammād’s Muqtabis zij and the astronomical tradition of Indian origin in the Iberian Peninsula, Archive for history of exact sciences 69 (2015), 577–650. Comes, M., Los ecuatorios andalusíes. Barcelona 1991. Comes, M., Islamic geographical coordinates: “al-Andalus contribution to the correct measurement of the size of the Mediterranean, in Science in Islamic civilisation: Studies and sources on the history of science, Istanbul 2000, 123–138. Repr. in Comes, Coordenadas del cielo y de la tierra, Barcelona 2013, 389–404. Callataÿ, G. de, Magia en al-Andalus: Rasāʾil Ijwān al-ṣafāʾ, Rutbat al-ḥakīm, Gāyat alḥakīm (Picatrix), in Al-Qanṭara 34 (2013), 297–344. Callataÿ, G. de, and S. Moureau, A milestone in the history of Andalusī bāṭinism: Maslama b. Qāsim al-Qurṭubī’s riḥla in the east, in Intellectual history of the islamicate world 5 (2017), 85–116. Díaz-Fajardo, M., Gestation times correlated with lunar cycles. Ibn al-Kammād’s animodar of conception across North Africa, in Suhayl 15 (2016–2017), 129–229.

454

samsó

Dietrich, A., Die Ergänzung Ibn Ğulğul zur Materia Medica des Dioskurides, Göttingen 1993. Fierro, M.I., Bāṭinism in al-Andalus, Maslama b. Qāsim al-Qurṭubī (d. 353/ 964), author of the Rutbat al-ḥakīm and the Ghāyat al-ḥakīm (Picatrix), in si 84 (1996), 87– 112. Fierro, M.I., and J. Samsó (eds.), The formation of al-Andalus. Part 2: Language, religion, culture and the sciences, Aldershot 1998. Forcada, M., A new Andalusian astronomical source from the iv/xth century: The Mukhtaṣar min al-anwāʾ of Aḥmad b. Fāris, in J. Casulleras and J. Samsó (eds.), From Baghdad to Barcelona, Barcelona 1996, 769–780. Forcada, M., Biografías de científicos, in M.L. Avila and M. Marín (eds.), Biografías y género biográfico en el Occidente Islámico. Estudios Onomástico-Biográficos de alAndalus, vol. 7, Madrid 1997, 201–248. Forcada, M., Astrology and folk astronomy: The Mukhtaṣar min al-anwāʾ of Aḥmad b. Fāris, in Suhayl 1 (2000), 107–205. Forcada, M., Investigating the sources of prosopography: The case of the astrologers of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii,” in Medieval prosopography 23 (2002), 73–100. Forcada, M., Astronomy, astrology and the sciences of the ancients in early al-Andalus, in Zeitschrift für Geschichte der Arabisch-Islamischen Wissenschaften 16 (2004– 2005), 1–74. Garijo, I., El tratado de Ibn Ŷulŷul sobre los medicamentos que no mencionó Dioscórides, Ciencias de la naturaleza en al-Andalus. Textos y estudios i, Granada 1990, 57–70. English translation in M.I. Fierro and J. Samsó (eds.), The formation of alAndalus. Part 2: Language, religion, culture and the sciences, Aldershot 1998, 419– 430. Garijo, I., Tratado octavo, Córdoba 1992. Garijo, I., Ibn Ŷulŷul. Libro de la explicación de los nombres de los medicamentos simples tomados del libro de Dioscórides, Córdoba 1992. Hamarneh, S.Kh., Drawings and pharmacy in az-Zahrāwī’s fourth/tenth century surgical treatise, in United States National Museum Bulletin 228 (1961), 81–91. Repr. Hamarneh, Health sciences in early Islam, vol. 2, Blanco, tx 1984, 151–158. Hamarneh, S.Kh., “The first known independent treatise on cosmetology in Spain,” in Bulletin of the history of medicine 39 (1965), 309–325. Repr. in Hamarneh, Health sciences in early Islam, vol. 2, Blanco, tx 1984, 189–203. Hamarneh, S.Kh., Health sciences in early Islam vol. 2, Blanco, tx 1984. Hamarneh, S.Kh., and G. Sonnedecker, A farmaceutical view of Abulcasis al-Zahrāwī in Moorish Spain, with special reference to the “aḏhān,” Leiden 1963. King, D.A., Instruments of mass calculation, vol. 2 of In synchrony with the heavens, Leiden 2005. Kuhne, R., La Urŷūza fī l-ṭibb de Saʿīd ibn ʿAbd Rabbihi, in Al-Qanṭara 1 (1980), 279–338.

córdoba as a scientific center

455

English translation of the introduction in M.I. Fierro and J. Samsó (eds.), The formation of al-Andalus. Part 2: Language, religion, culture and the sciences, Aldershot 1998, 403–418. Kunitzsch, P., ʿAbd al-Malik ibn Ḥabīb’s Book on the Stars, Zeitschrift für Geschichte der arabisch-islamischen, in Wissenschaften 9 (1994), 161–194 and 11 (1997), 179–188. The English translation of this paper (not the Arabic text) has been reprinted M.I. Fierro and J. Samsó (eds.), The formation of al-Andalus. Part 2: Language, religion, culture and the sciences, Aldershot 1998, 277–304. Kunitzsch, P., Traces of a tenth-century Spanish-Arabic astrolabe, in Zeitschrift für Geschichte der arabisch-islamischen Wissenschaften 12 (1998), 113–120. Kunitzsch, P., and R. Lorch, Maslama’s notes on Ptolemy’s Planisphaerium and related texts. Bayerische Akademie der Wissenschaften. Philosophisch-Historische Klasse, in Sitzungsberichte 2 (1994), 1–121. Llavero Ruiz, E., al-Zahrāwī, Abū l-Qāsim, in Biblioteca de al-Andalus, vol. 7, Almería 2012, 684–708. Mancha, J.L., On Ibn al-Kammād’s table for trepidation, in Archive for history of exact sciences 52 (1998), 1–11. Reprinted in Mancha, Studies in medieval astronomy and optics, Aldershot 2006, no. 9. Millás, A. and J.M. Millás Vallicrosa, Estudios sobre Azarquiel, Madrid and Granada 1943–1950. Neugebauer, O., The astronomical tables of al-Khwārizmī. Translation with commentaries of the Latin version edited by H. Suter supplemented by Corpus Christi College ms 282, Copenhaguen 1962. Oliveras, M., El de imaginibus caelestibus de Ibn al-Ḥātim, in Al-Qanṭara 30 (2009), 171–220. Pingree, D., “Indian astronomy in medieval Spain,” in J. Casulleras and J. Samsó (eds.), From Baghdad to Barcelona, Barcelona 1996, 39–48. Rashed, R., Les mathématiques infinitésimales du ixe au xie siècle. Fondateurs et commentateurs, vol. 1, London: 1996. Rius, M., La actitud de los emires cordobeses hacia los astrólogos: entre la adicción y el rechazo, in C. de la Puente (ed.), Identidades marginales, Estudios OnomásticoBiográficos de al-Andalus, vol. 13, Madrid 2003, 517–549. Robles Macías, L.A., The longitude of the Mediterranean throughout history: Facts, myths and surprises, in e-Perimetron 9 (2014), 1–29. Samsó, J. The early development of astrology in al-Andalus, in Journal for the history of Arabic science 3 (1979), 228–243. Repr. Samsó 1994, no. 4. Samsó, J., La primitiva versión árabe del Libro de las Cruces in J. Vernet (ed.), Nuevos Estudios sobre Astronomía Española en el siglo de Alfonso x, Barcelona 1983, 149–161. Repr. in Samsó 1994. Samsó, 1994: Samsó, J., Islamic Astronomy and Medieval Spain, Aldershot, 1994.

456

samsó

Samsó, J., Sobre el astrólogo ʿAbd al-Wāḥid b. Isḥāq al-Ḍabbī (fl. c. 788–c. 852), in Anaquel de Estudios Arabes 12 (2001), 657–669. Repr. in Samsó 2008, no. 10. Samsó, J., Cuatro horóscopos sobre muertes violentas en al-Andalus y el Magrib, in M. Fierro (ed.), De muerte violenta. Política, religión y violencia en al-Andalus. Estudios Onomástico-Biográficos de al-Andalus, vol. 14, Madrid 2004, 479–519. Repr. in Samsó 2008, no. 13. Samsó, J., Astronomy and astrology in al-Andalus and the Maghrib, Aldershot 2007. Samsó, J., Astrometeorología y Astrología Medievales, Barcelona 2008. Samsó, J., Las ciencias de los antiguos en al-Andalus, Almería 22011. Savage-Smith, E., al-Zahrāwī, in ei2, vol. 11. Terés, E., Ibn al-Šamir, poeta astrólogo de la corte de ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii, in Al-Andalus 24 (1959), 449–463. van Dalen, B., Al-Khwārizmī’s astronomical tables revisited: analysis of the equation of time in J. Casulleras and J. Samsó (eds.), From Baghdad to Barcelona, Barcelona 1996, 195–252. Vernet, J., Un tractat d’obstetricia astrològica, in Boletín de la Real Academia de Buenas Letras de Barcelona 22 (1949), 69–96. Repr. in Vernet, Estudios sobre Historia de la Ciencia Medieval. Barcelona and Bellaterra 1979, 273–300. Vernet, J., Los médicos andaluces en el ‘Libro de las generaciones de los médicos’ de Ibn Ŷulŷul, in Vernet, Estudios sobre Historia de la Ciencia Medieval. Barcelona and Bellaterra 1979, 469–486. Vernet, J., Estudios sobre Historia de la Ciencia Medieval. Barcelona and Bellaterra 1979. Vernet, J., and M.A. Catalá, Las obras matemáticas de Maslama de Madrid. in AlAndalus 30 (1965), 15–45, repr. Vernet, Estudios sobre Historia de la Ciencia Medieval. Barcelona and Bellaterra 1979, 241–271. English translation (without the edition of the Arabic text) in M.I. Fierro and J. Samsó (eds.), The formation of al-Andalus. Part 2: Language, religion, culture and the sciences, Aldershot 1998, 359–379.

chapter 19

Fine Arts in Qurṭuba José Miguel Puerta Vílchez

1

Ornamental Fountains, Washbasins and Goldsmithing

From quite early on, the Umayyad rulers showed a special interest in adorning their palaces and representative places with the signs of ostentation and sovereignty that had already been displayed by their Eastern ancestors. For that reason, they not only incorporated pieces from Roman antiquity into their buildings and residences, but they also imported items from the Orient. Above all, though, they created workshops, such as the dār al-ṣināʿa (house of art, or royal factory) and the ṭirāz (royal textile factory regia), which were managed by high court officials closest to their own emirs and caliphs, and even supervised personally by some of them. In fact, the Andalusi chronicles praise the pool (ḥawḍ) that was installed in the bedroom, al-muʾnis (the intimate), that ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii had in the gilded chamber in Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, which was green and had an exotic shape, and that Aḥmad the Greek and Bishop Rabī had transported from Damascus or Constantinople. The pool was adorned with carvings (nuqūsh) and images (tamāthīl) with human figures (ṣuwar al-insān), but in dār al-ṣināʿa in Qurṭuba, and under the supervision of the heir al-Ḥakam, 12 images in red gold encrusted with very valuable pearls were added to it: a lion, together with a gazelle and a crocodile, on one side, and on the other a serpent, an eagle, and an elephant, and on both sides, a dove, a falcon, a royal peacock, a hen (or a cockerel), a kite, and a vulture.1 These sculptured animals ejected water through their beaks and mouths, forming a majestic fountain. Minus their precious materials, of course, various pools/fountains and fragments of marble fountains have survived, in some of which are zoomorphic spouts forged in metal. Well-known caliphal models, with reliefs of felines and raptors (a lion and an eagle) devouring herbivores (gazelles, deer, bulls, etc.)— a millennium-long template of the sovereignty that incorporates the court symbolism of Islam in Sassanid art—include the Cordoban fountain taken to

1 Al-Maqqarī, Nafḥ al-ṭīb, vol. i, 526–527, 568–569.

© José Miguel Puerta Víl chez, 2023 | doi:10.1163/9789004524156_020

458

figure 19.1

puerta vílchez

Basin of Bādīs, 10th century ce alhambra museum

figure 19.2 Almanzor’s basin, 377/987 national archeological museum, madrid

Granada by King Bādīs (Alhambra Museum), in which a double scene of a feline attacking a herbivore is repeated on both sides of a central tree of life, which is accompanied by hunting eagles in the laterals, and the two ʿāmiran fountain, probably from Madīnat al-Zāhira, called the the Fountain of Almanzor, dedicated to him in a Kufic inscription that dates it to 377/987 (National Archaeological Museum, Madrid), and the fountain dedicated to his son ʿAbd al-Malik (r. 1002–1008), now in the Madrasa b. Yūsuf in Marrakesh, which is similar, although the decorated part is lost. Its abundant decoration combines fields of vegetal and floral decoration, aquatic birds, and fish in the edges with classical zoomorphic court imagery (eagles with their wings unfolded, with quadrupeds above their wings and gazelles in their talons, as well as griffins facing each other on both sides of a tree of life). One of the frontals of the Fountain of Almanzor is decorated with a lively meta-architectural composition, formed by small columns that seem to support three trilobate arches, typical alternating Cordoban voussoirs,

fine arts in qurṭuba

459

each axially accommodating a tree of life. From Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ have also come several circular ornamental pools/fountains—and several still remain in its ruins—without figurative areas and with an obvious aesthetic appreciation of empty space, as shown by their littel and attractive vegetal decoration, or with only a Kufic calligraphic border, such as the 12-gallon pool with an inscription referring to al-Ḥakam ii and his minister Jaʿfar, which bears the date 360ah (970/1) (Archaeological Museum of Granada). And although here we shall not comment on its strictly architectural components, such as the mosaics in the maqṣūra of al-Ḥakam ii and others, we shall mention that the stonework reached an exceptional sculptural level in the carving of the bases and capitals in the caliphal workshops, in which other sumptuous works were also produced. The depth and precision of the trepanning, the extremely fine intertwining/braiding, acanthus, and atauriques, as well as the Kufic epigraphy in some of them make them masterpieces that were also greatly appreciated in al-Andalus and in some European countries. The beautiful zoomorphic spouts of the fountain, which, with pre-Islamic origins and later praised in Andalusi prose and poetry, enjoyed a golden age in Qurṭuba, represented mainly by the famous musk deer in Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, belong to a palace setting. One is in the archaeological museum of its surroundings, another is displayed in the Doha Museum in Qatar, and yet another, which is in poor condition, belongs to the National Archaeological Museum of Madrid. Made of forged bronze using the lost wax technique, their exquisite profiles, which emanate grace and solemnity at the same time, and their stereotypical almond eyes and the fine ataurique scrolls covering their bodies, exclude them from being naturalistic copies and endow them with an eminently symbolic presence, evocative of plenty, beauty, and good sight. This is corroborated by the so-called quadruped in the Bargello Museum (Florence) (10th–11th century), probably another musk deer, although less slender and with different vegetal decoration, which has a central border with the Kufic expression baraka kāmila (full blessing). Of the series of lion-shaped spouts that, with variants that lasted until the end of the century in al-Andalus, we shall mention the lion with an articulated tail and wide-open jaws in the Museum of Kassel and the one in Monzón (Palencia) (Louvre Museum), which was as early as the 12th century but with many similarities with previous Umayyad bronzes, such as the border with a propitiatory Kufic inscription that is displayed in its sides. Animal-shaped spouts sculpted in stone were also placed in some Umayyad palaces, such as the elephant pouring water over the pool in a garden (almunia) in the vicinity of Qurṭuba (Diocesan Museum of Córdoba), schematic in shape but striking for the exotic nature of the animal, which we shall also see depicted in ivories and on woven cloths.

460

figure 19.3

puerta vílchez

Fawn from Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, 10th century ce, Bronze madīnat al-zahrā’s museum, cordoba

Also connected with the use of water are the two bronze washbasins in the shape of a peacock, possibly for ritual use, one of which (Louvre Museum) has one inscription in Arabic: “made by ʿAbd al-Malik the Christian” and another in Latin: “Opus Salomonis era T X,” i.e., with the Andalusi date T X (1010), equivalent to 972. The symbolic relationship of birds with Solomon is well-known in both the Islamic and Christian worlds. This peacock, and another similar

461

fine arts in qurṭuba

figure 19.4 Peacock-shaped bronze pitchers from alAndalus, 972 louvre museum

one found in Mores (north of Cerdeña; Pinacoteca Nazionale di Cagliari), has atauriques on its wings and chest that are the same as those on the chest of Hishām and semicircles that are the same as those on the griffin of Pisa, so that it is attributed to an Andalusi Christian context, since they have a cross. In fact, the inscription indicates this, also because for Christians the peacock was the “symbol of the Gentiles who come to Christ from the far corners of the Earth, according to Raban Maur (9th cent.).”2 The griffin of the Cathedral of Pisa, which is over a meter high, could have been forged in a Qurṭuban or Andalusi workshop in the 11th century and has propitiatory borders engraved in the Kufic script (“May there be complete and lasting blessing, favor, wellbeing, health, and happiness for its owner”), as well as the figures of a lion and an eagle, court animals that form the hybrid figure of a griffin, which are quite widespread in the arts we are dealing with here and are attributed with protective powers. To Almohad Qurṭuba (12th–13th century) belong two small bronze braziers found in Chirinos Square in Cordoba, one with half-moons and openwork cartouches in Kufic script under spaced out scalloping (“blessing for its owner”) and beneath and others with “complete blessing” and “perpetual health,” as well as an engraving of hares facing each other among the foliage; the other

2 Cf. aavv., El esplendor de los omeyas cordobeses, vol. ii, 47.

462

figure 19.5

puerta vílchez

Bronze brasiers, Chirinos Square, Cordoba, Almohad period, 12–13th century ce archeological museum of córdoba

small brazier has geometric decoration openwork and four figurines of birds in its corners looking towards the interior (Archaeological Museum of Córdoba).3 From among the refined metal-working of Qurṭuba and its sphere of influence can be mentioned other washbasins and a large range of pieces, such as the oil lamps with barrels (the one in Algeciras, Spain stands out, with the Kufic inscription baraka and the figure of a bird from the caliphate period), and others from the capital Qurṭuba and Madīnat Ilbīra, or the bronze lamp and the

3 Cf. Catálogo de la exposición Madīnat Qurṭuba. Ciudad and materia. Also see Madinat alZahra. Catálogo de la exposición permanente; Puerta Vílchez, El sentido artístico de Qurtuba.

fine arts in qurṭuba

figure 19.6

463

Candleholder from Algeciras, 11th century ce granada archeological museum

brazier feet topped with the head of a lion, which is simpler, also found in Madīnat Ilbīra (9th–10th century, Archaeological Museum of Granada). Qurṭuban metal work reached its zenith in making coins, (gold) dinars, and (silver) dirhams with exclusively calligraphic legends, and in goldsmithing, which has made the city of Cordoba famous even today. Here we can mention the treasuries of Garrucha, Loja, Ermita Nueva, or Charilla (Royal Alcalá, Jaén), the most important of which is the well-known gold diadem (or belt) mounted with precious stones and embossed filigree, dating to about 942–970 by the coins of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii and the mint of al-Andalus that accompany it. Of particular interest is the gold filigree pendant earing weighing 22 carats (3,5cm in diameter) discovered in 2003, together with the remains of “green and manganese” pottery and a coin of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii, in a plot in the Garden of the Queen in Cordoba:4 its meta-architectural openwork design, representing a triple horseshoe arch and a cornice of staggered merlons, shows to what extent this typical image of Umayyad Andalusi art was reproduced, which is present on a larger scale in the miḥrāb in the Mosque of Cordoba and on a smaller scale in the Fountain of Almanzor mentioned earlier, as well as in some ivories to which we will now refer. Two beautiful caliphal perfume flasks that have been preserved; the one from Cordoba (made of bronze) reproduces the same architectural image in its neck, here composed of horseshoe arches in which are trees of life, while the other, almost identical in shape and decora-

4 aavv., El esplendor de los omeyas cordobeses vol. ii 190–246.

464

puerta vílchez

figure 19.7 Girdle diadem from the treasure of Charilla, 942–970ce museum of jaén

fine arts in qurṭuba

figure 19.8

465

Gold filigree earring found in the Garden of the Queen (Huerta de la Reina), Cordoba, Emirate of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii archeological museum of córdoba

tion but made of silver and discovered in Lucena, keeps this decorative field in the slender neck smooth or erased/rough.5 An undisputed landmark in the arts of Qurṭuba is, of course, the abovementioned Chest of Hishām (Cathedral of Girona), made in gilded silver and nickel-plated, with pearl-shaped scrolls that include double palms, like those now in the decoration of the Bāb al-wuzarāʾ (Gate of the Viziers) in the Cordoban mosque, in some ornamental coverings in Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ and in stuccoes in Madīnat Ilbīra in Granada. In the edge of the lid is this inscription in florid Kufic script: “Basmala. Blessing of God, prosperity, happiness, and everlasting joy for the servant of God, al-Ḥakam, the Prince of Believers al-Mustanṣir bi-Llāh. He had it made for Abū l-Walīd Hishām, the designated heir. Its decoration was completed during the mandate of Jawdhar.” Inside the lock can be read the signature of the craftsman: “The work of your servants

5 These last three pieces are exhibited in the Archaeological Museum of Córdoba.

466

puerta vílchez

figure 19.9 Caliphal flask for essence from Lucena (Cordoba), 10th century ce archeological museum of córdoba

Badr and Ẓarīf.”6 The chest had to be made when Hishām appeared publicly as heir, in February 974 or September 976, depending on the sources, and before the death of al-Ḥakam ii, on October 1, 976, in fact, in the arms of his eunuch Jawdhar, at that time “chief of the jewelers and falconers” (ṣāḥib al-ṣāgha wa-lbayāzira) and the great fatā of this caliph. Afterwards, this same Jawdhar would be exposed in a conspiracy to assassinate Hishām ii, for whom the chest was intended; this chest is usually said to have become part of the booty taken by Catalan mercenaries who arrived in Qurṭuba in 1010.

2

The Aesthetics and Iconography of the Qurṭuban Ivories

We will once more come across a large portion of the compositional figurative elements that we have just seen in the palace pools/fountains and the miniature items made in metal, in the ivory chests and boxes made in the

6 Labarta, La arqueta de Hišām 1–24.

fine arts in qurṭuba

figure 19.10

467

Hishām’s coffin, 10th century ce treasury of the cathedral of girona

workshops of Qurṭuba and Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ. However, their precious ebony settings, are enriched with human figures, and the settings even form small illuminated books with elegant calligraphic strips, delicate ornamentation, symbolic animals, and subtle court scenes.7 Ivory must have reached Qurṭuba after the military campaigns of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii in Morocco, and this material was a regular gift from African lords. This is confirmed by al-Maqqarī by the fact he uncovered in his well-stocked Andalusi library: 8,000 pounds of ivory sent to Hishām ii from Emir Zuhayr b. ʿAṭiya arrived in Qurṭuba in 991. 2.1 Garden Made of Ivory, with Zoomorphic and Poetic Figures From the workshop of Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, the oldest recorded, come works such as the Pyx of the Cathedral de Zamora (National Archaeological Museum, Madrid), the one in the Hispanic Society of New York, and the little box of Fitero (Navarra), these last two signed by Khalaf. We know of the existence of another workshop in Qurṭuba, active between 960 and 970, although its production was

7 Ferrandis Torres, Los marfiles árabes de occidente; Beckwith, Caskets from Cordoba; Kühnel,

468

puerta vílchez

figure 19.11 Pyxis from Zamora, 10th century ce, ivory museum of zamora’s cathedral

less refined than in al-Zahrāʾ. The pyx of Zamora is made of two pieces of ivory, the body and lid topped with a knob in the shape of the fruit called amalaka, and was sculpted in beak and bevel so that it presents deep straight cuts and beautiful chiaroscuros; the Kufic inscription, clearly visible in the smooth border that runs round the base of the lid, asks for “divine blessing for the caliph alḤakam al-Mustanṣir bi-Llāh, Prince of Believers,” and proves that the pyx was made “for the lady, mother of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān, under the direction of Dhurrī alṢaghīr, in the year 353 [964],” that is, for the famous Ṣubḥ, a Basque slave who became the wife of Ḥakam ii and therefore the mother of whoever was heir to the caliphate at that time, namely ʿAbd al-Raḥmān, who, however would die

Die islamischen elfenbeinskulpturen; Pérez Higuera, Objetos e imágenes de al-Andalus 27– 31.

fine arts in qurṭuba

469

prematurely, and the throne would be occupied by Hishām ii, born a year after this piece was made, in 965. Its body is covered in vegetal forms regulated by vertical symmetrical axes, which suggest trees of life, and includes double and single palms and smooth or multifoliate leaves, as well as double and simple, smooth or multifoliate leaves and peppers, buds, shoots, and flowers; between the foliage appear animals in peaceful poses: eight pairs of small birds facing each other on the lid and in the pyx, four pairs of peacocks and musk deer and four pairs of birds. Here we can note that Abū ʿUthman Dhurrī al-Ṣaghīr, or al-Aṣghar, was the servant and treasurer of al-Ḥakam ii, for whom he had another ivory pyx made. However, only its lid has been preserved, with its pommel in the shape of the fruit called amalaka. It has fine openwork decoration with geometric patterns, ataurique, and eagles with unfolded wings, plus the inscription in simple elegant Kufic script that mentions these two important persons (V&A; inv. 217– 1865). For another woman, “the lady, daughter of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān, Prince of Believers,” another small box was made (V&A; inv. 301–1866), with a beveled edge only adorned with a border in florid Kufic script and ataurique.8 It must also have been made in the workshop of al-Zahrāʾ and before the death of ʿAbd alRaḥmān iii in 961. Also preserved is a beautiful game of “manqala” dedicated to a daughter of this same caliph and other small pyxes, such as the one in the Metropolitan Museum of New York, with raptors and quadrupeds in different scales and arranged along vegetal axes, and others in which the decoration is reduced to a vegetal pattern and a Kufic inscription, such as the Box of Fitero, “made by Khalaf,” dedicated to “ʿAbd al-Raḥmān,” and the one in the Instituto Valencia de Don Juan, both made in 966, as well as the Pyx of the Hispanic Society (ca. 968). This last is especially significant as on it was engraved a very short poem in Kufic script that feminizes and idealizes him aesthetically, at the same time identifying him as a container of perfumes and precious stones: “My aspect is of the highest beauty, my breast preserves all its firmness. /I am adorned with beauty, decked with a bejeweled dress./ I am a container of musk, camphor and ambergris.” We will come across this feminizing and self-contemplating language as applied to an objet d’art in later Andalusi objects and architecture, such as various ornamental vases and wall casings in the Alhambra.

8 Silva Santa-Cruz, Ivory gifts for women in caliphal Córdoba 103–125.

470

puerta vílchez

figure 19.12 Board game (manqala) for a daughter of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii, before 961ce, ivory museum of burgos

fine arts in qurṭuba

figure 19.13

471

Pyxis of the Hispanic Society of New York, ca. 968 ce, ivory

2.2 Ivories with Anthropomorphic Figures and Scenes All this re-creation of a garden or ideal paradise, whose vegetal forms, axial lines, and floral details match many of the murals in the palace; other ivories are peopled with more complex royal iconographic programs in which the human figure becomes the main protagonist. The famous Pyx of al-Mughīra (Louvre Museum), with a cylindrical, almost architectural structure, like the one in Zamora, is composed of eight medallions of eight lobules, four larger in the cylindrical body and four smaller ones on the lid. They are all connected by a continuum of small leaves in the form of a braid, which flows dynamically throughout, even extending to the perimeters of the body and the lid. Whether reading the medallions from right to left, or the ostentatious Kufic inscription on the base of the cover, we see a scene with dynastic content. On a throne supported by lions—a time-honored image of sovereignty—lie what are considered to be stereotypes of the first son of al-

472

puerta vílchez

figure 19.14 Pyxis of al-Mughīra, 357/968, ivory louvre museum

Ḥakam ii, ʿAbd al-Raḥmān, with rod and cup, both signs of the renovation of life and of the new year in antiquity, which indicates that he must he the new heir to the throne, and the other is al-Mughīra, holding a fan, which can be connected either with straw fans or Byzantine liturgical flabella; both are sitting in the “Turkish” manner, on each side of a standing lutenist, one of the musical depictions typical of these ivories and many other works of Andalusi and Islamic art (textiles, capitals, pottery, etc.), alluding to the importance, solemnity, and festive atmosphere that court music produced. One foot of each of these two princely figures projects from the throne, subtly breaking the hieratic nature of the image. As they are all beardless, and therefore of the caliphate nobility, the scene seems to allude to the future stability in the line of succession. This is confirmed by its parallel medallion, on the other part of the pyx, which depicts two lions devouring two bulls on both sides of a vegetal axis, a classical representation of the sovereignty and violence that supports power,

fine arts in qurṭuba

473

which has been executed here with foreshortening that fills a scene with vividness and plastic force, that, on its own merits, appears in all the manuals of Islamic art. The legend on the cover in simple Kufic script, “Blessing of God, well-being, happiness and joy for al-Mughīra, son of the Prince of the Believers, may God take pity on him. Of what was done in the year 357 (968),” curiously omits the name of the ruling caliph, al-Ḥakam ii, whereas it alludes to ʿAbd alRaḥmān iii, the father of al-Mughīra, who was 18 when he received this pyx and for many people was the legitimate heir; however, in 962, Ṣubḥ had given al-Ḥakam i his first son, ʿAbd al-Raḥmān, who died in 970, and a second heir, Hishām, who would be born in 965 and occupy the throne on the day that alḤakam ii died (October 1, 976), and on the same day al-Mughīra was assassinated on the orders of Almanzor. The new caliph, still a boy, was recruited, as we know, from this very moment in Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, leaving royal power in the hands of the ʻāmirī leader. These historical circumstances led Renata Holod to perceive an ironic meaning in this ivory, which he articulated after Prado-Vilar had suggested that its iconography could be set in the circle of Princess Ṣubḥ and the ḥājib al-Muṣḥafī, who in 967 would no longer support Almanzor, who was cruel, learned, and had a penchant for luxury objects and gifts, according to al-Maqqarī, so that the pyx was presented to al-Mughīra during a celebration as a veiled threat.9 However, this attractive interpretation has weak points from a historical viewpoint and has been placed in doubt by other scholars, who consider that these are simply codified representations of the sovereign and his brother al-Mughīra in palace life and recreation scenes, or, without describing exactly why, it is an exaltation of Umayyad legitimacy against Fatimid or Abbasid claims. In any case, it is preferable to invert the political interpretation discussed and consider that the work more probably came from the group defending al-Mughīra and that its mages were being used to strengthen his legitimacy as the son adult of al-Nāṣir and against the aspirations of the new boy, who had just joined political scene. Whatever the case, the instructive meaning of the piece seems obvious, since the other medallions have images of breaks in life cycles, probably as an allegory of the dangers that lie in wait for established order and sovereignty and of what the young prince, who received the present, would need to overcome. One medallion includes two riders on horseback with falcons gathering dates on each side of a large palm tree that it is being attacked by quadrupeds, and the next and final medallion has a curious scene of a thicket with three eagles’ nests (the central one with four chicks 9 Holot, Bote de al-Mugira 192–200; Prado-Vilar, Circular visions of fertility and punishment 19–41; and Prado-Vilar, Enclosed in ivory 138–163. Also, Makariou, El bote con el nombre del príncipe al-Mughira 39–52.

474

puerta vílchez

and the ones of each side with eagles brooding eggs) that two youths, who are being bitten by dogs (the punishment for traitors in al-Andalus), are attempting to rob. Between the vegetation of the pyx are inserted other secondary scenes connoting violence and conflict: below, two dogs biting the tails of two griffins, two wrestlers, two sheep, and two deer, all as facing pairs; and above can be seen two eagles, one royal peacock flanked by two royal peahens, two animals, possibly wolves, who are attacking a donkey, and two falconers. And on the lid, four medallions around a fruit-shaped knob that has disappeared, with gazelles facing each other, two lions and two royal peacocks, a falconer on horseback, quails or royal peahens, two doves, two birds, two lions, and two jackals or dogs, all facing each other. The narrative structure of the pyx and its design, established by axial lines, symmetries and circular shapes, and of independent units that are also complementary, ultimately matches a compositional system with parallels in classical Arabic and Andalusi poetry. Other known ivories mainly express messages eulogizing and exalting the sovereign or a member of the court. This applies to the pyx of Ziyād (V&A), made in 359/969–970 for Ziyād b. Aflāḥ, the chief of police for al-Ḥakam ii, who was an ambitious character, involved in various intrigues concerning succession in the caliphate. The surface of this pyx is also arranged as interlaced medallions with a continuous strip, in which is sculpted a stereotypical depiction of a person on a throne administering justice (for some he is the caliph, for others he is Ziyād himself, who certainly requested harsh punishment for those responsible for a plot against al-Ḥakam ii, after changing sides), then of the figure being carried on an elephant, and, lastly, of the figure hunting. Whereas on the first medallion the sides of the throne ended in feet in the shape of lion’s claws that are of Roman and Byzantine origin, the two birds facing each other and their heads turned to what is beneath connect it to Sassanid models. On the medallion that has an elephant, the throne-seat is different, and the two courtiers with a sword and flask from the previous medallion now become two servants leading the elephant. Griffins that are facing each other, pairs of birds, heraldic eagles, deer, bulls, animals hunting, etc. also emerge from the foliage as signs of elevation and power. And another of the most intricate and valuable gems made from Cordoban ivory, the Chest of Leyre (Museum of Navarra, Pamplona), also exhibits a sense of eulogy and victory, in honor, yet again, of the son of Almanzor, perhaps commemorating his victory in 1004 in Leon, when he was given the nickname “Sayf al-Dawla” (Sabre of the State). Its main inscription, in magnificent, florid Kufic script in letters of pearl, decorates the front of the cover, asking for good wishes and a long life for the hājib Sayf al-Dawla ʿAbd al-Malik b. al-Manṣūr, adding that it was made under the direction of the great servant Zuhayr b. Muḥammad al-ʿĀmirī and that it was “the

fine arts in qurṭuba

figure 19.15

475

Chest of Leyre, 395/1004–1005, ivory navarre museum, pamplona

work of Faraj and his disciples,” whose names (Miṣbāḥ, Faraj, Khayr, Saʿāda, and Rashīd, possibly signatures of the workshop, which also appear in other pieces and architectural carvings), in fact, appear in various parts of the piece. And it also adds that it was made in 395/1004–1005; therefore, possibly in Madīnat alZāhira, although its shape is similar to those from the workshop in al-Zahrāʾ. The decorative surface is composed of 23 medallions with eight lobules (13 in the lid and 10 in the main body) linked by a woven ornamental border, just like the one on the box from al-Mughīra, and connects the borders and fields of the principal scenes in a dynamic continuum. The most notable of these are three court scenes, where the visual narrative begins in parallel with the start of the inscription. It begins with a bearded older person and the caliphal attributes (ring, branch, and cup), which one can suppose is an image of Hishām ii (r. 976–1009 and 1010–1013) seated on a throne supported by lions and flanked by two servants, in a smaller scale, who are standing and looking at him and holding in his honor a scepter with a curved tip (the one on the left) and a standard and a flask (the one on the right); these attributes of sovereignty are incorporated in Islamic rituals and iconography—ascribing to the Prophet the use of a signet ring with his name on one side and on the other a scepter (elsewhere the famous burda or mantle of the Prophet). Some Arabic texts also mention “the cup of the worlds,” a clear reference to the caliphate’s expression of sov-

476

puerta vílchez

ereignty, the symbolism of which is inherited from ancient Iranian traditions (“cup of immortality” or “cup of salvation”). During his proclamation in 961, alḤakam ii brandished a long bamboo cane with a curved end, and in 967, during the renewal of the oath of his successor, Hishām ii, he went to the mosque of Qurṭuba with “the scepter of the caliphs,” accompanied by Almanzor. In some ivories and textiles, the cup is replaced with a flask that has a similar meaning and should be imagined as full of wine, since it is also reproduced in Bacchic court scenes.10 The central medallion of this Chest of Leyre contains three musicians (two with a flute and a central player with a lute) and, on the left, two important beardless persons seated in the Turkish manner, one on each side of a central tree looking at each other, on thrones supported by lions. Judging from the political situation, the dedication of the inscription, and the attributes of sovereignty mentioned above, it can be suggested that one of the figures is ʿAbd al-Malik, the real holder of power after the death of his father, Almanzor, in 1002, since he appears with a cup and scepter, and the companion figure on the right, holding a branch and a cup, could represent his progenitor, from whom he received his command, although this is still quite conjectural. In the corresponding medallions on the other side, a hero is prominent, in the center, again possibly ʿAbd al-Malik, fighting two lions. And in the accompanying medallions, there are pairs of riders on horseback with spear and sword separated by an axial tree; motionless in the medallion on the right and fighting each other in the one on the left. These are definitely heroic scenes of battle, victory, and power, which they diversify in the remaining bas reliefs in ivory, with griffins and unicorns facing each other, deer, lions attacking gazelles and a person hiding in a tree, eagles seizing quadrupeds, images of hunting with falconers, lions, and an elephant, as well as some royal peacocks and other animals and persons intermixed with the foliage; noting, on the other hand, the different qualities in the composition of the scenes and in their execution, drawing attention to the figures on the cover, and the energetic naturalism and precision with which they were carved. Another later piece, the Pyx of the Cathedral of Braga, with an inscription that asks for good fortune, happiness for “al-ḥājib Sayf al-Dawla”—once again the son of Almanzor, ʿAbd al-Malik—and for him to be strengthened by God, and it states that was made under the direction of Zuhayr b. Muḥammad alʿĀmirī, but without giving the date, although it could be between 1004, when ʿAbd al-Malik adopts the title of Sayf al-Dawla, and 1007, when he assumed the title of al-Muẓaffar (The Victorious) after the victory over Sancho García. The

10

Pérez Higuera, Objetos e imágenes de al-Andalus 55.

fine arts in qurṭuba

477

figure 19.16 Pyxis of the Cathedral of Braga, ca. 1004/1007ce, ivory museum of the cathedral of braga, portugal

more architectural shape of these ivories can be seen in the pyx, as it was decorated with an arcade of six horseshoe arches, supported by small columns with capitals, on which, on top a loop derived from the projection of each arch, the lid rises like a cupola crowned by a pommel in the shape of the fruit called amalaka; the arches are filled with pairs of animals, birds, and two persons gathering and eating fruit; within the loops, like on the medallions, there are two deer, two royal peacocks, and two quails, and the lid is covered with five medallions of eight lobules with an animal on each (two lions, a royal peacock, and two deer). This decoration, on the one hand peaceful, so that it was presumed to have been made for a wedding or seasonal feast, on the other hand can also be interpreted in diplomatic and even eucharistic terms; it has been proposed that it may have been presented by Aṣbāg b. ʿAbd Allāh b. Nabīl, qāḍī (judge) of the Mozarabs of Qurṭuba, to Mendo Gonçalvez of Portugal when he visited Leon on behalf of ʿAbd al-Malik to support Don Mendo in his dispute

478

puerta vílchez

with Sancho García for the tutelage of the young Alphonsus v, which would also explain why his iconography is the same as the Visigothic images and the Gothic chalice that is kept with this pyx in the Portuguese cathedral mentioned above.11

3

Qurṭuban Pottery and Glassware

In Qurṭuba, glazed ceramics, a contribution from Islam, reached a high level of refinement, in which oriental and Andalusi techniques and motifs are combined in a unique synthesis that is full of character and ranges from everyday items to courtly ware. The royal workshops of Qurṭuba issued pieces with the official stamp, although with more generic semantics, such as well-known ceramic “green and manganese” ware that was manufactured in the cities alZahrāʾ and Ilbīra during the caliphate. The vegetal, geometric, calligraphic, zoomorphic, and anthropomorphic decoration, with copper oxide (green) and manganese (black), is applied on a glazed white background (engobe) while the outside is honey colored (melado). The round tables/deep bowls with the word al-mulk (sovereignty), repeated in a strip in the simple Kufic script (National Archaeological Museum of Madrid), are similar, as well as those that have it as a single central painted word, also in simple Kufic script, or in a more elaborate florid Kufic script, both with some small leaves in the background. In the first of these round tables/deep bowls, the Kufic border is surrounded by a perimeter of atauriques of palmettes, the second has ocelli, and the third the vegetal element forms a five-pointed star with gently wavy lines like a surrounding cosmos. One of the vases in Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ also has a border with the word al-mulk repeated in simple Kufic script; the other one only has geometric borders and a vegetal decoration of palmettes and petals that are highly creative. The curb of a well with the word al-mulk in florid Kufic script repeated in a narrow central border, accompanied by two other simple ataurique borders, is also preserved. Another jar, this time octagonal and found in the Cardosa Garden in Cordoba, is decorated with the technique of partial dry cord and green glass with fields of ataurique below and a border in florid Kufic script with the expression “perfect happiness, prosperity, and full blessing.” And in connection with the active Qurṭuban book factories, which will be discussed later, is pre-

11

This hypothesis is due to Serafín Moralejo, apud. Prado Vilar... [quoted by Prado Vilar...], Circular visions of fertility and punishment 34.

fine arts in qurṭuba

479

figure 19.17 Ataifor (bowl) with the expression al-mulk (the sovereignty), 10th century ce, ceramic green and manganese archeological museum of córdoba

served a beautiful inkwell made of glazed pottery with openwork decoration (10×10.5cm), discovered in Antonio Maura Street, in Cordoba, and dated to the 10th century (Archaeological Museum of Córdoba). The appreciation of empty space is used in quite a few of these ceramics, as is evident in a glazed earthenware jar with small dorsal handles and vegetal borders without calligraphy, also in the small plate with ocelli and in the jars, one with ocelli and the other with these circles and vertical bands in green and yellow, and especially in the large bowl with a single central floral motif; pieces that are surprisingly close to modern tastes. Other Qurṭuban ceramics feature figures of people and animals, such as the beautiful “Bottle of the Musicians” (in the same museum in Cordoba), with a theme that matches the “capital of the musicians” (lutenists), the only capital with human figures known in caliphal art,12 as well as the fragment of silver with a warrior wearing a helmet, a coat of mail, a spear, and a shield, the zafa with a gazelle in the National Museum of Ceramics in Valencia, and various silver fragments with painted peacocks and doves with plants in their beaks (a motif known in Byzantine art). All this is found in Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, plus the flask with hares from Madīnat Ilbīra (Archaeological Museum of Granada), the

12

A rare example of a capital with a zoomorphic theme is the one preserved in the Alhambra Museum, from the al-Manṣūr period, with two aquatic birds facing each other with worms in their beaks; we also have received a caption with two taps facing each other and an inscription in honor of Jaʿfar. This piece and the aforementioned ceramics are exhibited in the Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ Museum.

480

figure 19.18

puerta vílchez

Inkwell found in Antonio Maura Street (Cordoba), 10th century ce, glazed ceramic archeological museum of córdoba

vase in the shape of a quadruped, which is usually identified as a giraffe but it is more likely a gazelle with its body adorned with schematic vegetal motifs (Louvre Museum), which is considered to have belonged to a palace in Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, and the so-called “Zafa of the Horse” from Madīnat Ilbīra, in which a bird is riding and holding the bridle of a horse harnessed with Oriental features in its beak, enigmatic symbolism that is also included in the Aljuba de Oña, and of which forerunners are known in the art of the ancient Indo-Europeans, the meaning of which may perhaps be connected with the idea of a spiritual guide (a bird) leading to Paradise (one of the many meanings attributed to the horse in Arabic mythology and culture) or more simply with the court practice of hawking. After the break-up of the caliphate, local pottery workshops sprang up throughout the 11th century in Toledo, Balaguer, Valencia, Mallorca, and new

fine arts in qurṭuba

481

figure 19.19 Small plate decorated with ocelli found in Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, 10th century ce, ceramic green and manganese archeological museum of córdoba

techniques prospered, such as the cuerda seca (dry cord) technique, examples of which appear in Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ, where fragments of gilded crockery were also found, although it is presumed that they were imported from the East, since everything indicates that this sophisticated type of ceramics was not developed in al-Andalus until the mid-11th century, and, consistently, from the 12th century outside Qurṭuba.13 Alongside pottery, in the courts of Qurṭuba and Andalusia, refined objects made of glass were used. They are usually ascribed to Ziryāb (ca. 788/789– 857/858), this factotum or cultural and almost mythical hero, poet, singer, musician, and general artist, who, fleeing from the court of Hārūn al-Rashīd, arrived in the Qurṭuba of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii (r. 822–852) and offered not only musical novelties (melodies for and improvements to the sound of the lute by using a new plectrum) but also gastronomic novelties and table etiquette, such as the use of leather tablecloths and crystal glasses, for which he is connected with the art of making Cordoban glass.14 We also know that, in al-Andalus, Iraqi glassware was imported quite early, and in the time of Emir Muḥammad i (r. 852–886), glass was manufactured in al-Andalus, with the factories in Murcia and Almeria becoming renowned during the caliphate, and afterwards, those in Seville belonging to al-Muʿtamid (11th century) and in Malaga, Murcia and

13

14

Cf. the exhibition catalogs Al-Andalus. Las artes islámicas en España and Madīnat Qurṭuba. Ciudad y materia, mentioned above; Pavón Maldonado, La loza doméstica de Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ 191–227; Martínez Caviró, Cerámica hispanomusulmana. Ibn Ḥayyān al-Qurṭubī, al-Muqtabis ii-1 307–335; Makkī and Corriente, Crónica de los emires 193–215.

482

puerta vílchez

figure 19.20 Bottle of the Musicians, 10th century ce, ceramic green and manganese archeological museum of córdoba

Almeria (13th century), in which gilded crockery was also produced. However, very few glass objects have reached us, such as the glass ointment flask found in the deposit in Madīnat Ilbīra (9th century) (8 cm high) and five cups made of blown glass from excavations in Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ (between 7.5 and 11.6 cm high) (10th century), which have engraved vegetal shapes and figures, making them similar to some Fatimid pieces, so that they are considered to be imports (Museum of Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ).15

4

The ṭirāz or Royal Weaving Mill in Qurṭuba

In the diffusion of signs of Cordoban Umayyad sovereignty, special importance clearly belongs to the dār al-ṭirāz (textile factory), which was next to the caliph’s palace and was managed by a sāḥib al-ṭirāz (chief of the factory), who was a high vizier or chamberlain: its first boss was Ḥārith b. Bāzī in the 9th century,

15

Malpica Cuello, Mil años de Madīnat Ilbīra 142; Zamorano Arenas, Madinat al-Zahra 183– 186.

483

fine arts in qurṭuba

figure 19.21 Glass cup from Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ with incised decoration, 10th century ce, blown glass archeological museum of córdoba

and others later included Rayḥān (910–911), Khalaf the Old (925), and the famous emancipated eunuch Jaʿfar, who took this post in 961 when al-Ḥakam ii became caliph. In fact, we know that this caliph visited the dār al-ṭirāz in 972, where he was welcomed by the leaders of the workshop, and that he took an interest in their work and gave them directives. This official artistic and formal institution had direct Sassanid and Byzantine forerunners. It was adapted to Islam in order to manufacture luxury textiles, which were stamped with the royal marsam (seal or mark) and often with the name of the sovereign. They were made for the exclusive use of the monarch and his family, for officials and members of the court, in order to show them off in festivals, to adorn court buildings or private houses, or to be used as presents or even to be stored as valuable treasure. Although it seems that silk was first produced in al-Andalus in 9th-century Jaén, it is feasible that with ʿAbd al-Raḥmān i this product was already being manufactured in Qurṭuba. Ibn ʿIdhārī tells us that ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii (821– 852) was “the first person to establish the factories of the ṭirāz and extend its manufacture in Qurṭuba.” We must remember that this emir was particularly interested in emulating the Abbasid court and that under his rule Ziryāb reached Qurṭuba. It is also said that for Emir Muḥammad I they managed to weave Baghdad cloths secretly, with his name on the edges, and that in the time of Emir ʿAbd Allāh, the governor of Seville, Ibrāhīm b. Ḥajjāj had them made with his own name, “copying the custom of Qurṭuba.”16 During the journey he made to Qurṭuba in 948, Ibn Ḥawqal would mention the quality of Andalusi wool, brocades, and silks, their magnificent colors and the lightness

16

Pérez Higuera, Objetos e imágenes de al-Andalus 86–88.

484

figure 19.22

puerta vílchez

Almaizar (chiffon headdress) of Hishām ii, 10th century ce, silk tissue with golden string the royal academy of history, madrid

and beauty of the clothes, which were exported and were in competition with those from the East/Orient. Only a few samples have survived from the Cordoban ṭirāz, and they have calligraphy and are adorned in tapestry stitch with silk thread in various colors and abundant gold from Cyprus or tinsel, such as the high-quality almaizar (a veil in the shape of a turban) belonging to Hishām ii. This almaizar comes from a reliquary of St. Stephen of Gormaz (Soria) and is preserved in the Real Academia de la Historia (Madrid). It has a wide border in the edges that fall over the shoulder, with the inscription repeated in two lines and on the reverse: “In the name of God, the Clement, the Merciful, the blessing of God, may there be good fortune and the permanence of the caliphate for the caliph, the imām and servant of God, Hishām, the one assisted by God and Prince of the Believers.” The inscription is in a florid Kufic script, similar to the script on the walls of Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ. Between both lines of calligraphy there is a sequence of octagons (as in Coptic textiles), with birds, lions, and gazelles, and there are human figures on each end of both; one masculine, most certainly the caliph mentioned in the inscription, Hishām ii, who is seated in front of a Turk and is holding a flask in one hand, while with the other he points deferentially to his right, where a female figure appears, presumably his mother Ṣubḥ, so that the iconography influences the courtly and political nature of the piece. The vegetal elements that are interwoven between the “vignettes,” each joined by an eight-pointed star, match some of the ivories discussed above, as well as some caliphal decorated murals. The 10th-century embroidered cloth known as Jubbah of Oña may be a similar composition, because it was found in the monastery of San Salvador de Oña (Burgos), who appears as an important person standing on a platform, supported by branches that sprout from a vase, and

fine arts in qurṭuba

figure 19.23

485

Fragment of jubba from Oña, 10th century ce, Silk, gold, and linen monastery of san salvador, oña

in profile, his right hand clearly indicates someone who would has been in the lost section of the fabric. Also from the Cordoban ṭirāz are: an embroidered fragment dedicated to ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii and made under the direction of Dhurrī in 941–942 (Cleveland Museum); the piece from the “Border of the Pyrenees” (Instituto Valencia de Don Juan, Madrid), bordered by a series of interlaced circles with courtly animals within them (as in the pyx of al-Mughīra and in items in the treasure of Garrucha), of which only one of the circles with a royal peacock has been preserved, all accompanied by vegetal and floral caliphal motifs; as well as the Sudarium of St. Lazarus from the Cathedral of Autun (France), which portrays a horseman with a turban and a falconer with a belt that mentions ʿAbd alMalik al-Muẓaffar in simple Kufic script, which means that the cloth seems to be an exaltation of the abovementioned triumph in 1007 of the son of Almanzor.17 In the period of the Taifas, other workshops were back in action, such as the one in Almeria, a place that ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii had made into a city in 955 after quelling a Mozarabic revolt and repelling a Fatimid attack against Pechina. Almeria supplanted Qurṭuba in the manufacture of textiles, which even reached the Far East. And according to al-Idrīsī, the harbor city had as many as 800 mills making silk, where clothes, cloths, and brocades were woven, such

17

Partearroyo Lacaba, Tejidos andalusíes 371–419.

486

puerta vílchez

as the Cape of Fermo (Italy), which has an inscription that mentions the name “al-Mariyya” and the date 510/1116–1117, and whose rich stock of court illustrations incorporates the essential Cordoban designs, including an elephant ride, although now in honor of an Almoravid leader, possibly ʿAlī b. Yūsuf, who at that time favored the arts of Almeria under his rule.18

5

Cabinetmaking

The art of cabinetmaking also reached exceptional heights in Andalusi Qurṭuba, a magnificent example being the beams and entablatures preserved in the mosque, as well as the minbars made in the capital of the Umayyads. Henri Terrase has already noted the importance and spread of pulpit making promoted by al-Ḥakam ii, some of which also had an ideological function in the service of the Umayyads in their struggle with Fatimid expansion towards North Africa.19 This applies to one of the cedar panels in the oldest minbar preserved in the mosque of al-Andalusiyyin de Fez, which has the date 369/980, when Bullughīn b. Zīrī ruled Fez in the name of the Fatimids, while the other three panels were cut in 375/985, when the city was taken by ʿAskalaja, a cousin of Almanzor; in one of these panels one can read, in florid Kufic script, the basmala, followed by Quran 24:36 (which mentions the houses elevated by God so that he would be praised), and on the reverse quotes Almanzor, thus putting on record the Qurṭuban sovereignty in this important mosque. Of this composition we can highlight its meta-architectural character, with vegetal figures and intertwined pine cones in the side panels bounded by the calligraphic strip, and the combination of polylobate medallions, eight interlacing arches, and a rectangle with an image of the miḥrāb formed by a trilobate arch crowning the reverse. For the mosque of al-Qarawiyyīn, the center of another great district in Fez, another minbar was made out of ebony and cedar, no longer preserved, whose inscription, recorded in the chronicle of al-Jaznāʾī, says that this item was made on the orders of Almanzor, “sabre of Hishām [ii],” and under the direction of his favorite son and ḥājib ʿAbd al-Malik al-Muẓaffar in 388/998. This Qurṭuban pulpit was later replaced by the magnificent minbar from the Almoravid period, which can still be seen in the same mosque in al-Qarawiyyin, built in 538 (1144), having been made, according to this Marīnī writer, by the poet, man of letters, and carpenter, Yaḥyā al-ʿAttād,20 who used selected timber and encrusted ivory; 18 19 20

Partearroyo Lacaba, Tejidos andalusíes 383–386; Ciampini, La capa de Fermo 141–177. Terrase, La Mosquée al-Qaraouiyin à Fès 53. ʿAlī al-Jaznāʾī, Janā zahrāt al-Ās fī bināʿ Madīnat Fās 55–56.

fine arts in qurṭuba

figure 19.24 Minbar from Kutūbiyya, ca. 1137–1147 ce, precious woods and inlaid ivory palace museum al-bādī, marrakech

487

488

puerta vílchez

the similarity of its traceries and atauriques with the minbar in the Kutūbiyya of Marrakech, made in Qurṭuba in the same period, allows us to connect it with the Cordoban workshop. The famous “minbar of the Kutubiyya” (ca. 1137–1147) (now in the museum in the Palace of al-Badīʿ in Marrakesh), must have been built in Qurṭuba on the orders of the Almohad king ʿAlī b. Yūsuf, and it is considered one of the greatest masterpieces of Arabic and Islamic marquetry of all time: the geometric patterns with eight-pointed stars, attentive to a careful dynamism and perceptive ambiguity, the detail and the precision in the lines of the crisscross pattern and, above all, in the atauriques, which are very deep and have leaves that come alive, even breaking out of the enclosed fields, are really splendid, and it was achieved by outstanding expertise and with the use of special saws that did not reach Europe until Renaissance Italy. It is also worth mentioning the Quranic friezes that allude to the divine throne in the most elegant simple Kufic script, its polychrome, largely lost, with gilding in the upper part, and the meta-architectural decoration with small horseshoe arches, bases, and capitals in the frontals of its seven steps encrusted with ivories, all of which connects to the best mural ornamentation and Cordoban ivories.21

6

The Art of the Book

The interest that the Umayyads of Qurṭuba had in promoting the industry of the book was proverbial, and classical Arabic sources are full of facts about it. Starting with ʿAbd al-Raḥman i (r. 788–796), considered to be a man of letters and a poet, the Andalusi Umayyad family promoted the importation, copying, and production of books, and the creation of libraries. It is also said that Emir Muḥammad i (r. 852–886) assembled a large library that was larger than any that existed at that time in Qurṭuba. It is also relayed that ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii was a booklover, which motivated the Byzantine emperor to present him with a manuscript in Greek, on parchment, in silver and gold letters, of a medical work by Dioscorides, lavishly bound and illustrated with drawings of medicinal plants.22 We know that in the Umayyad capital there was the district of the al-raqqāqīn (makers of parchment and books), and it has been calculated that, in the period of greatest splendor in Qurṭuba, it could produce thousands of books per year. Close by, in the eastern suburb, there was also

21 22

Bloom et. al., The minbar from the Kutubiya Mosque. Al-Maqqarī, Nafḥ vol. i 367

fine arts in qurṭuba

489

a factory that produced Cordoban leather (made of tanned/cured goatskin), and one of its many uses was for binding books with gilded and colored drawings. The production and collection of books must have reached its peak under the auspices of Caliph al-Ḥakam ii, who created the largest library known in alAndalus, starting from the one inherited from his ancestors, adding to the one belonging to his brother Muḥammad and the volumes that he himself had commissioned and collected. According to Ibn Ḥazm of Qurṭuba (994–1063), the author of The ring of the dove, the famous Library of Knowledge (khizanatu-hu l-ʿilmiyya) of al-Ḥakam ii numbered 400,000 volumes, recorded in 44 volumes of indexes, each having 20 folios. An eunuch of this caliph named Talīd stated that his master imported books from everywhere and that he “assembled in his house the most skillful in the art of copying (ṣināʿat al-naskh) and the most proficient in vocalization (dabṭ) and in good bookbinding (ijādat al-tajlīd).”23 The learned men of Qurṭuba also knew several principles based on oriental treatises on calligraphy. This is shown by the famous scholar Abū ʿAmr al-Dānī (Qurṭuba, 981–Denia, 1053) who, in one of his many treatises on Quranic readings, likens the letter alif to the human body as a canon of beauty. According to al-Maqqarī, important Coptic master copyists, such as Ibn Hārūn “the Sicilian” and Jaʿfar al-Bagdādī, ʿAbbās b. ʿAmrū, also from Sicily, Yūsuf al-Ballūṭī, an Andalusi, and others,24 were employed by al-Hakam in al-wirāqa (making books), expanding his famous teams of amanuenses. Women also had an active role in this art, since they not only worked in the eastern mosque of the capital during the caliphate, with 127 women copying Qurans in Kufic script, but also quite a few made themselves famous for their calligraphy in the direct entourage of the Qurṭuban sovereigns, such as Lubnā al-Kātiba, Fāṭima bt. al-Sabullārī, Qalam, etc. Whereas we have no female names for works in ivory, pieces, and architecture, there is a great deal of information about their role copying books. In fact, we know that many of the “wise women of al-Andalus” were kātibas (scribes and calligraphists), usually female slaves who worked for their masters or mistresses and were entrusted with writing letters or other official documents. Some of them were copyists, actually working as court amanuenses because of their good handwriting, although we have nothing signed by them.25 Unfortunately, hardly any trace is left of this industry connected with books. Of al-Ḥakam’s Library of Knowledge, only the colophon of the Mukhtaṣar

23 24 25

Al-Maqqarī, Nafḥ, vol. i, 111. Al-Maqqarī, Nafḥ, vol. i, 367. Puerta Vílchez, Caligrafía y calígrafos andalusíes; Puerta Vílchez, Calígrafas del islam árabe clásico 202.

490

figure 19.25

puerta vílchez

Colophon of al-Mukhtaṣir by Ibn Musʿab b. Abī Bakr, 359/970, parchmen library of qarawiyyīn, fez, morocco

(Compendium) by Ibn Muṣʿab Aḥmad b. Abū Bakr remains. According to that colophon, it was copied by Ḥusayn b. Yūsuf, “servant of the imām al-Ḥakam al-Mustanṣir bi-Llāh, Prince of the Believers, may God make him last and make his caliphate eternal, in shaʿbān of the year 359 [June–July 970],” with Andalusi calligraphy but without ornamentation (Library al-Qarawiyyin de Fe, fol. 347). And part of a copy of the Quran has also reached us, which is of

fine arts in qurṭuba

491

figure 19.26 Blank (right) and final page of the colophon (left) from a copy of a Qurʼān copied in Qurṭuba in 548/1143–1144, parchment library of istanbul university; a6755

enormous historical and decorative value, made in Almoravid Qurṭuba from calfskin and almost square in shape (18×18.8cm) (Library of the University of Istanbul; A6755).26 Its endpaper-flyleaf (folio 3a) is formed from a simplified woven design of curved and straight lines in a narrow clear strip the color of parchment, reminiscent of the latticework and geometric tracery of the Eastern Umayyads and of the mosque in Qurṭuba. This expands to form an external square, through eight intermediate interlaced circles, starting from a central eight-pointed star. Inside the star is inscribed an octagon with a decorated border that houses a mesh like a small eight-pointed star in clear blue on a dark blue background, which gives the impression of turning and is immediately reminiscent of the cupola of mosaics in front of the miḥrāb of al-Ḥakam ii, even in its contrast of the court colors, gold and blue. The rest of the surface is, of course, a garden of fine gilded Cordoban ataurique on a dark blue background, and with green and reddish tones in some of the spaces. And in the colophon (folio 145b and 146a), handwritten in blue oriental Kufic script outlined in gold, inside a narrow square frame of interlaced arches, also filled with gilded vegetal scrolls, and creating an eightpointed star in each corner, we can read, before the taṣliya (a formula in honor

26

Sabiha Khemir, Corán manuscrito 304–305.

492

puerta vílchez

of the Prophet) and the date it was finished, 548/1143–1144: “The whole Quran was completed with the divine help and providence in the city of Qurṭuba, may God protect it.”

Bibliography aavv., El esplendor de los omeyas cordobeses: la civilización musulmana de Europa occidental, coord. por Ma.J. Viguera Molins y C. Castillo Castillo, Granada, El Legado Andalusí, 2001, 2 vols. aa.vv., Madinat al-Zahra. Catálogo de la exposición permanente, Córdoba, 2015. Al-Andalus. Las artes islámicas en España, ed. de J. Dodds, Madrid, El Viso, 1992. Beckwith, Caskets from Cordoba Bechwith, J., “Cinco paneles de un mimbar hecho para la Mezquita de los Andalusíes, Fez”, in Al-Andalus. Las artes islámicas en España, ed. by J. Dodds, Madrid, El Viso, 1992, pp. 149–151. Bloom et. al., The minbar from the Kutubiya Mosque, New York, Met, 1996. Catálogo de la exposición Madīnat Qurṭuba. Ciudad and materia, curated by Mª. Dolores Baena Alcántara and José Escudero Aranda, Córdoba, 2013 aavv., Madīnat Qurṭuba. Ciudad and materia, curated by Ma. Dolores Baena Alcántara and José Escudero Aranda, Córdoba-Madrid, Museo de Madinat al-Zahra’-Casa Árabe, 2013. Ciampini, La capa de Fermo: un bordado de al-Andalus 141–177 in A. Fernández-Puertas and P. Marinetto Sánchez (eds.). Arte y cultura. Patrimonio Hispanomusulmán en alAndalus, Granada, 2009, 141–177. Ferrandis Torres, Los marfiles árabes de occidente, Madrid, 1935–1940, 2 vols. Holot, Bote de al-Mugira in aavv., Al-Andalus: las artes islámicas en España, coord. J.D. Dodds, Nueva York-Madrid, 1992 192–200. Ibn Ḥayyān al-Qurṭubī, al-Muqtabis ii-1, ed. de Mahmud ‘Ali Makki, Riad, Markaz alMalik Faysal; tr. de M. ‘A. Makki y Federico Corriente, Zaragoza, ieeiom., 2001. Khemir, Sabiha, Corán manuscrito, in Al-Andalus. Las artes islámicas en Españ a, Madrid, El Viso, 1992, 304–305. Kühnel, Die islamischen elfenbeinskulpturen: viii–xiii Jahrhunder Berlin, 1971. Labarta, Ana, “La arqueta de His̆ām: su epigrafía”, summa, n° 6 (2015), pp. 1–24. Madinat al-Zahra. Catálogo de la exposición permanente Makariou, El bote con el nombre del príncipe al-Mughira: una historia velada en marfil 39–52, in J.A. González Alcantud, Paradigma Alhambra. Variación del mito de al-Ándalus. Un debate geminal, Granada, Editorial Universidad de Granada, 2108, 39–52. Malpica Cuello, Mil años de Madīnat Ilbīra, Granada, Fundación El Legado Andalusí, 2013.

fine arts in qurṭuba

493

Al-Maqqarī, Nafḥ al-ṭīb, ed. i. ‘Abbas, Beirut, 1988, 8 v. Martínez Caviró, Cerámica hispanomusulmana, Madrid, El Viso, 1991. Partearroyo Lacaba, Tejidos andalusíes 371–419 Artigrama, 22 (2007), 371–419. Pavón Maldonado, La loza doméstica de Madīnat al-Zahrāʾ Al-Andalus, xxxvii (1972) 191–227. Pérez Higuera, Objetos e imágenes de al-Andalus, Madrid, AECI-Lunwerg, 1994. Prado-Vilar, Circular visions of fertility and punishment Muqamas, xiv, 19–41 Prado-Vilar, Enclosed in ivory. The Miseducation of al-Mughira Journal of the David Collection, 2.1, (1997) 138–163. Puerta Vílchez, Calígrafas del islam árabe clásico, in La aventura del cálamo, Granada, Edilux, 2007, 139-202. Puerta Vílchez, Caligrafía y calígrafos andalusíes, in La aventura del cálamo, Granada, Edilux, 2007, 199-202. Puerta Vílchez, El sentido artístico de Qurtuba, Granada-Madrid, Edilux-Casa Árabe, 2015. Silva Cruz, Ivory gifts for women in caliphal Córdoba «Ivory gifts for women in caliphal Córdoba: marriage, maternity and sensuality», Journal of Medieval Iberian Studies, vol. 6(2014), Issue 1, 103-–125. Terrase, La Mosquée al-Qaraouiyin à Fès París, Archéologie Méditerranéenne,1968. ʿAlī al-Jaznāʾī, Janā zahrāt al-Ās fī bināʿ Madīnat Fās, ed. by A.W. Ibn Manṣūr, Rabat, 1991.

Index of Anthroponyms ʿAbbās b. ʿAmrū 489 ʿAbbās b. Firnās 409, 439, 440 ʿAbbās b. Nāṣiḥ 408, 438 ʿAbd Allāh 107, 166, 178, 179, 130, 235, 410, 413, 438, 483 ʿAbd Allāh b. Badr 321 ʿAbd Allāh b. Mālik 308 315, 324 ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz b. Mūsā b. Nuṣayr 133, 136 ʿAbd al-Dāʼim b. Aflaḥ al-Jaʿfarī 323 ʿAbd al-Ḥamīd al-Kātib 421 ʿAbd al-Ḥaqq b. Saʿīd b. Muḥammad b. Ayyūb al-Hintātī 159 ʿAbd al-Malik al-Muẓaffar 485, 486 ʿAbd al-Malik b. Ḥabīb 309, 410, 440, 458, 476 ʿAbd al-Muʼmin 156, 182 ʿAbd al-Raḥman al-Dākhil 146 ʿAbd al-Raḥmān al-Nāṣir li-Dīn Allāh 271, 274, 276, 277, 278, 285, 288 ʿAbd al-Raḥmān b. al-Ḥakam 312, 319, 321, 322, 323 ʿAbd al-Raḥmān b. Muʿāwiya al-Dākhil 309, 310, 312 ʿAbd al-Raḥmān b. Muʿāwiya b. Hishām b. ʿAbd al-Malik b. Marwān 135, 138, 227 ʿAbd al-Raḥmān i 97, 106, 107, 108, 171, 173, 189, 192, 200, 202, 207, 227, 229, 230, 231, 233, 338, 406, 407, 408, 437, 488 ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ii 106, 107, 166, 169, 177, 189, 202, 203, 204, 207, 212, 213, 214, 233, 234, 311, 312, 313, 314, 338, 406, 408, 409, 410, 413, 414, 420, 438, 439, 445, 463, 481, 483 ʿAbd al-Raḥmān iii 97, 149, 166, 169, 172, 173, 177, 178, 179, 212, 229, 235, 239, 293, 294, 296, 314, 315, 317, 319, 321, 339, 340, 341, 343, 358, 363, 410, 412, 413, 416, 438, 440, 446, 447, 457, 463, 467, 469, 473, 485, 488 ʿAbd al-Raḥmān Sanchuelo 345, 417 ʿAbd al-Raḥmān see al-Mustaẓhir 417 ʿAbd Rabbih 293 Abraham ben Daud 345, 346 Abū ʿAbd Allāh al-Ṣiqillī 446 Abū l-ʿAlāʼ al-Maʿarrī 422 Abū ʿAlī b. al-Ḥasan b. al-Ḥātim 441

Abū ʿĀmir Aḥmad b. Shuhayd 417, 421 Abū ʿAmr al-Dānī 489 Abū ʿAmr Yūsuf b. Ḥasday 340 Abū ʿAmr Yūsuf Ibn Janāḥ 344 Abū l-Faraj Yosef b. Yaʿăqob [b ʿAwkal] 345 Abū l-Ḥasan ʿArīb b. Saʿd al-Kātib 363 Abū l-Ḥasan al-Masʿūdī 149 Abū Isḥāq Ibrāhīm b. Yaḥyā al-Naqqāsh 450 Abū l-Khaṭṭār 308 Abū l-Makhshī al-Tamīmī 408 (Abū Naṣr) Manṣūr (b. Abī l-Buhlūl) 338 Abū l-Qāsim Maslama b. al-Qāsim al-Qurṭubī 291, 294, 440 Abū l-Qāsim al-Zahrāwī 447, 448, 450 Abū Marwān al-Jazīrī 413 Abū Maʿshar 439 Abū Muḥammad Qāsim b. Muṭarrif alQaṭṭān 441 Abū Nuwās 421 Abū l-Qāsim b. al-Khayyāṭ 369 Abū Tammām 413, 415, 421 Abū ʿUbayda b. al-Jarrāḥ 146 Abū ʿUmar b. ʿAfīf 142 Abū ʿUmar al-diyāqun b. Yuwān b. ʿAyshūn li-Ibrahim b. Khayr b. ʿAbd 368 Abū ʿUthmān al-Jazzār 446 Abū ʿUthmān 381 Abū ʿUthmān Dhurrī al-Ṣaghīr 469 Abū l-Walīd Ḥasday b. Ḥasday 340, 344 Abū l-Walīd Marwān b. Janāḥ 343 Abū Yaʿqūb Yūsuf 182 Abū Zakariyāʼ Yaḥyā b. Dāʼūd al-Fāsī 340 Abū Zakariyāʼ Yaḥyā b. Ḥanīghā 344 Acantia 259 Acisclus (martyr) 29, 51, 57, 71, 80, 82, 120, 121, 145, 253, 265, 267 Adelard of Bath 442 Agila 29, 51, 55, 56, 57, 80, 81, 82, 84 Aḥmad b. Burd al-Aṣghar 423 Aḥmad b. Fāris al-Munajjim 445 Aḥmad b. Ibrāhīm b. Muḥammad b. Aḥmad al-Makhzūmī al-Marrākushī 159 Aḥmad b. Muḥammad b. Aḥmad b. Muḥammad b. Sulaymān al-Anṣārī alAwsī 158, 159

496 Aḥmad the Greek 457 Alfonso vi of Castile 437, 450 ʿAlī b. Yūsuf 486, 488 Almanzor see al-Manṣūr Alfonso i of Aragon 359 Alphonsus v 478 Alfonso vi 370 Alvarys (Alvarus?) 92 Alv/barus of Cordoba 354, 355, 356, 358, 360, 370 Amalasuentha 55 Anastasius 56 ʿAnbasa b. Suḥaym al-Kalbī 308 Annaei 30, 36, 40 Antoninus Pius 25 ʿArīb b. Saʿīd 447 ʿArīb b. Zayd al-Usquf 363 Aṣbāg b. ʿAbd Allāh b. Nabīl 477, 363 Al-Aṣghar 469 ʿAskalaja 486 Athanagild 51, 55, 56, 84 Augustus 7, 23, 26, 27, 35, 39, 221 Ausonius 38, 41 Aylah/Aylo/Egilona 133, 134 Ayyūb b. Ḥabīb al-Lakhmī 133 Badīʿ 315 Bādīs 458 Al-Bakrī 154 Balj b. Bishr al-Qushayrī 227 Banū ʿAbbās 151 Banū Jahwar 243 Banū l-Qasī 355 Banū l-Ṭawīl 355 Baron Karwinsky 196 Al-Basbāshī 446 Al-Battānī 452 Al-Bīrūnī 439 Bodo Eleazar 339 Al-Buḥturī 413, 421 Bullughīn b. Zīrī 486 Al-Bunnāhī 158 Caecilius Classicus 22, 27 Calamarius 259 Charles the Bald 356 Clodius Albinus 28 Constantine 254 Constantius ii 29

index of anthroponyms Constantius Chlorus 252 Corippus 56, 72 Cristophora 259 Al-Ḍabbī 438, 439, 440 Dillii 30, 40 Dioscorides 445, 446, 447, 448, 488 Dunash b. Labraṭ 339, 340, 341 Egila (Bishop) 354 Elipandus of Toledo (Bishop) 354, 365 Esperaindeo (Abbot) 354 Eulogius 92, 360 Eutropius of Valencia 91 Faraj 475 Fāṭima bint al-Sabullārī 489 Felix (St.) 120 Ferdinand iii (the Saint) 8, 157, 347 Al-Fihrī 227 Fulgentius 89 Galen 445, 447 Galerius Maximianus 252 George (Georgio, Jūrjis) 356 Al-Ghazāl 409 Gennadius of Massilia 90 Gratian 38 Hadrian 27 Hadrian i (Pope) 354 Ḥafṣ b. Albar al-Qūṭī 360, 361, 362, 363, 364, 369 Al-Ḥajjāj b. al-Mutawakkil 342 Al-Ḥakam i 228, 232, 234, 276, 278, 297, 298, 314, 337, 338, 358, 408, 409, 438, 439, 457, 465 Al-Ḥakam ii 143, 151, 166, 167, 168, 172, 174, 179, 180, 181, 203, 210, 235, 240, 242, 271, 274, 278, 286, 296, 298, 340, 341, 342, 358, 363, 400, 406, 412, 413, 414, 416, 425, 439, 444, 446, 459, 466, 468, 469, 472, 473, 474, 476, 483, 489, 490, 491 Al-Hamadhānī 421 Harib filii Zeid episcopi see ʿArīb b. Zayd al-Usquf Ḥārith b. Bāzī 482 Al-Ḥarrānī 440, 445

497

index of anthroponyms Ḥasdāy b. Shaprūṭ 339, 340, 341, 344, 446 Ḥayyūj 341, 343 Hermenegild 51, 81 Hilderic 55 Al-Ḥimyarī 159, 170, 171, 201 Hippocrates 445, 447 Hishām i 107, 173, 227, 228, 438 Hishām ii 151, 166, 181, 239, 286, 200, 240, 323, 324, 343, 344, 345, 381, 406, 408, 413, 467, 473, 475, 476, 484, 486 Hosius of Corduba (Bishop) 79, 91, 254 Hostegesis of Malaga (Bishop) 355 Hrotsvitha of Gandersheim 150, 406 Al-Ḥurr 222, 225 Al-Ḥurr b. ʿAbd al-Raḥmān al-Thaqafī 135, 136, 138, 307, 309 Ḥusayn b. Yūsuf 490 Hydatius of Chaves 91 Hydatius of Cordoba 91 Hydatius 25 Hyginius 40 Ibn al-Abbār 158, 180 Ibn ʿAbd al-Ḥakam 134 Ibn ʿAbd Rabbih 410, 413, 414, 420, 421 Ibn Abī Zarʿ 158 Ibn ʿAdabbās 312 Ibn Bashkuwāl 142, 178, 190, 201, 223 Ibn Barrajān 365 Ibn Bassām 421, 423, 445 Ibn Darrāj al-Qasṭallī 415 Ibn Ḥafṣūn 358 Ibn al-Hāʼim al-Ishbīlī 451 Ibn Hamushk 156 Ibn Hārūn 489 Ibn Ḥasday 344 Ibn Ḥawqal 149, 150, 483 Ibn Ḥayyān 107, 166, 167, 174, 175, 201, 212, 232, 239, 275, 280, 409, 425, 426, 439, 445 Ibn Ḥazm 154, 314, 346, 365, 369, 406, 416, 417, 418, 419, 421, 425, 428, 445, 489 Ibn al-Kammād 437, 450, 452 Ibn ʿIdhārī 134, 144, 157, 158, 201, 369, 444, 483 Ibn Janāḥ 344, 346 Ibn Jubayr 146 Ibn Juljul 363, 438, 446

Ibn al-Kammād 437, 450, 452 Ibn al-Khaṭīb 223, 414, 444 Ibn Māʼ al-Samāʼ 413 Ibn Mardanīsh 182 Ibn Muṣʿab Aḥmad b. Abī Bakr 490 Ibn al-Muʿtazz 413 Ibn al-Qāsim 151 Ibn Qutayba 420 Ibn al-Qūṭiyya 425 Ibn Quzmān 357, 426, 427, 428 Ibn Rushd 437 Ibn al-Ṣaffār 442, 450 Ibn Ṣāḥib al-Ṣalāt 156, 182 Ibn Saʿīd al-Maghribī 369 Ibn Shuhayd 154, 344, 406, 417, 418, 421, 422 Ibn al-Samḥ 442, 449 Ibn al-Shamir 439 Ibn Tāshufīn 360 Ibn al-Zarqālluh 437, 447, 450, 451, 452 Ibn Zaydūn 406, 423, 424, 425, 428 Ibrāhīm b. Ḥajjāj 483 Ibrahīm b. Khayr 368 Idelfonsus of Toledo (Saint) 90, 91 Idrīs b. Muḥammad b. Muḥammad b. Mūsā al-Anṣārī 159 Al-Idrīsī 155, 156, 170, 171, 485 Al-Imām al-Qurṭubī 362, 365 Iohannes Hispalensis 361 ʿĪsā b. Aḥmad b. Muḥammad b. Mūsā al-Rāzī 107, 143, 144, 146, 167, 170, 201, 275, 448 Isaac b. Barukh b. Albalia 346 Isaac Moheb b. Efraim 347 Isḥāq b. Balashq al-Qurṭubī 366, 367, 368 Isḥāq b. Sulaymān al-Isrāʼīlī 448 Isḥāq al-Mawṣilī 408 Isidore of Seville (Saint) 80, 81, 85, 87, 88, 89, 90, 91, 92 Iunii 30, 40 Iunius Paulinus 33 Jaʿfar 483 Jaʿfar al-Bagdādī 489 Jaʿfar b. ʿAbd al-Raḥmān 321, 323 Jaʿfar al-Muṣḥafī 239, 413 Jaʿfar al-Ṣiqlābī 321, 323 Al-Jāḥiẓ 420, 421 Jawdhar 465 Al-Jaznāʼī 486 Jerome 90

498 John (Presbiter) 354 John of Biclaro 51 John of Gerona 91 John of Gorze 277 John of Seville see Iohannes Hispalensis Joseph 341 Justin ii 56 Justinian of Valencia 91 Justinian (Emperor) 51, 52, 55, 56, 63 Justus of Urgell 91 Khalaf 467 Khalaf b. al-Muʿādh 442 Khālid b. al-Walīd 146 Khālid b. Yazīd b. Rumān 26 Khayr 475 Al-Khazrajī 365, 369 Ha-Kohen b. al-Muḍarram 344 Al-Khushanī 381, 412 Al-Khwārizmī 442, 452 Lampadius (Bishop) 256, 257, 259 Leander 87, 89, 91 Leovigild 81, 82, 85, 91 Licinian of Cartagena 91 Lisān al-Dīn b. al-Khaṭīb 135 Liuvigild 51 Lubnā al-Kātiba 489 Lucan 30, 79 Lucceius Albinus 22 Ludrīq 225 M Cornelius Novatus Baebius Balbus 31 Al-Mahdī 294, 295 Maimonides 347, 437 Al-Maʼmūn 443, 452 Al-Manṣūr 131, 298, 343, 344, 345, 381, 414, 415, 416, 419, 423, 427, 444, 445, 450, 458, 473, 474, 476, 485, 486 Al-Manṣūr b. Abī ʿĀmir 131, 143, 151, 153, 172, 177, 181, 240 Al-Manṣūr b. Abraham 342 Manṣūr Muḥammad b. Abī ʿĀmir Al-Maqqarī 107, 135, 158, 201, 276, 277, 369, 400, 467, 489 Marcus Aurelius 38 Marcus Claudius Marcellus 7, 22, 221 Al-Marrākushī 201 Martial 23, 35

index of anthroponyms Martin of Dumio 91 Marwān b. ʿAbd al-Raḥmān 416 Marwān b. Ghazwān 439, 440 Marwān b. ʿĪsā 314 Maslama b. Aḥmad al-Majrīṭī 441, 442, 443, 447, 450 Maximianus Herculius 29, 253, 254 Maximus of Saragossa 91 Maymūn b. Aḥmad b. Muḥammad al-Qaysī 159 Mĕnaḥem b. Saruq 340, 341, 339 Mendo Gonçalvez 477 Migetius 354 Al-Mirʿizī 369 Mosheh ben Ḥanoḵ 339, 342, 343 Al-Mughīra 471, 472, 473, 475, 485 Mughīth al-Rūmī 135, 136, 143, 144, 145, 221, 262, 337 Muḥammad i 166, 207, 234, 312, 314, 315, 356, 409, 420, 438, 439, 440, 482, 483, 488 Muḥammad ii al-Mahdī 345 Muḥammad iii al-Mustakfī 424 Muḥammad al-Shajjār 446 Muḥammad al-Ṭubnī 413 Muḥammad b. ʿAbd Allāh b. al-ʿAdhrāʼ 439 Muḥammad b. ʿAbd al-Salām b. Qalamūn 420 Muḥammad b. ʿAbdallāh al-Ashjaʿī 308 Muḥammad b. Abī Jumʿa 444 Muḥammad b. Aḥmad b. Muḥammad b. ʿAbd Allāh b. Aḥmad b. Khalaf b. Ibrāhīm alTujībī 160 Muḥammad b. Maḥmūd 411 Muḥammad b. al-Ṣaffār 442 Muḥammad b. Saʿīd, ʿAbd al-Raḥmān b. Isḥāq b. al-Haytham 446 Muḥammad b. Shukhayṣ 413 Muḥammad b. Yūsuf al-Warrāq 412 Muʼmin b. Saʿīd 409 Mummius Secundinus 22, 27 Mundhir b. Saʿīd 413 Al-Mundhir 166, 438 Al-Muqaddasī 150 Al-Muqtadir 274 Musā b. al-Majjānī 345 Mūsā b. Nuṣayr 132, 133, 134, 136 Al-Muṣḥafī 473 Al-Muʿtamid b. ʿAbbād 424

index of anthroponyms Al-Muʿtamid 326, 437, 450, 451, 482 Al-Muʿtāsim 274 Al-Muẓaffar 345, 419, 445 Al-Nāṣir 276, 277, 278, 280, 288, 292, 297, 321 Nero 25 Nicholas 339 Al-Nuwayrī 201 Ordoño iv 277, 278, 280 Ossius (Bishop) 29, 34, 40, 121 Otto i 277 Paulo Albaro 338 Paulus Orosius 363 Petrus Alfonsi 442 Pliny 22 Procopius 56 Ptolemy 452 Ordoño the Wicked (king of León) 358 Q Cornelius 31 Al-Qāḍī al-Nuʿmān 291 Al-Qāʼim 294, 295 Al-Qālī 412 Qāsim b. Aṣbagh 363 Al-Qāsim b. Muḥammad b. Aḥmad b. Muḥammad b. Sulaymān b. Muḥammad b. Sulaymān al-Awsī 160 R Samuel 346 Raban Maur 461 Rabīʿ b. ʿAbd al-Raḥmān b. Rabīʿ al-Ashʿarī 158, 160 Rabīʿ b. Tawudulf 358 Al-Ramādī 415 Ramiro ii 358 Rashīd 475 Rayḥān 483 Reccared 81, 85 Reccemund (Rabīʿ b. Zayd) 363 Recceswinth 92 Roderick 337 Rodericus 133 Rodrigo Jiménez de Rada (Archbishop) 361 Romanos ii 446 Saʿāda 475 Săʿadyah al-Fayyūmī 339, 341, 365

499 Saʿīd 315 Ṣāʼid al-Andalusī 151 Saʿīd b. ʿAbd Rabbihi 446 Ṣāʿid al-Baghdādī 412 Al-Samḥ b. Mālik al-Khawlānī 136, 137, 227, 307 Samson (Abbot) 256, 257, 356 Samuel (Hostegesis’ uncle) 355 Al-Ṣanawbarī and al-Mutanabbī 413, 415, 421 Sancho García 476, 478 Sancho i 277, 278 Sayf al-Dawla ʿAbd al-Malik b. al-Manṣūr 474, 476 Schlunk 100, 101, 112 Seneca 25, 30, 79 Septimius Severus 22, 27, 36, 39 Serviodeo (ʿAbd Allāh) 356 Sesuldus 64 Severianus 73, 89 Severus of Antioch 51 Severus of Malaga 91 Sextus Marius 22, 27, 36 Shant Ajiluḥ 145 Al-Shaqundī 151, 427 Shĕmuʼel b. Naghrela 343 Shunayf 321 Sidonius Apollinaris 79 Sisebut 85, 90 Societas Aerariorum 36 Societas Sisaponensis 36 Stephen of Gormaz (Saint) 484 Stephen son of Basilios 446 Strabo 7 Ṣubḥ 473 Sulaymān b. Juljul 344 Sulaymān 133, 135 Ṣumayl 227 Ṭāhir b. ʿAlī al-Muhannad al-Baghdādī 413 Ṭāriq b. Ziyād 132, 133, 134, 143, 145 Al-Thaʿālibī 421 Theodisclus 55 Theodoric 65 Theudis 51, 55, 87 Tiberius 22, 26, 39 Toda Aznárez 277, 278 Trajan 27, 40 Al-Tujībī’ 325

500

index of anthroponyms

Ubayd Allāh al-Mahdī 290 ʿUbayd Allāh b. Idrīs al-Khalīdī 410 ʿUbayd Allāh b. Qāsim (Metropolitan of Toledo) 358 Al-ʿUdhrī 178 190, 201 ʿUmar b. ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz 136, 137 ʿUmar b. al-Khaṭṭāb 146 ʿUmar b. Ḥafṣūn 235 ʿUmar ibn ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz 170 ʿUmar ii 227 ʿUqār 314 ‘Uqba b. al-Ḥājj al-Salūlī 227 ʿUthmān b. ʿAffān 148 Valens of Cordoba (Bishop) Vigil 56 Vincent (Saint) 70 Al-Walīd i 337 Wallāda 424, 425 Yaʿăqob b. Jaw (naśī) 343 Al-Yaʿqūbī 149 Yaḥyā al-ʿAttād 486 Yaḥyā al-Ghazāl 439, 440

362

Yaḥyā b. ʿAbd al-Raḥmān b. Aḥmad b. ʿAbd al-Raḥmān b. Rabīʿ al-Ashʿarī 158, 160 Yaḥyā b. Dhī l-Nūn Yaḥyā 160 Yaḥyā b. Ḥakam al-Bakrī 409 Yaḥyā b. Isḥāq 438, 358 Yaḥyā ii 450 Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī 156 Yazdijird iii 443 Yĕhudah b. Daud 340 Yĕhudī b. Sheshet 341 Yiṣḥaq b. Khalfūn 344 Yiṣḥaq b. Jiqaṭela 340 Yiṣḥaq b. Qafrūn 340 Yosef b. Abitur 342, 344 Yūsuf al-Ballūṭī 489 Yūsuf al-Fihrī 309 Yūsuf b. ʿAbd al-Raḥmān al-Fihrī 227 Ziryāb 338, 408, 439, 483 Ziyād b. Aflāḥ 474 Zoilus (martyr) 71, 120 Zuhayr b. ʿAṭiya 467 Zuhayr b. Muḥammad al-ʿĀmiri 474, 476 Zuhayr b. Numayr 421 Al-Zuhrī 164

Index of Toponyms Abdera 31 Aerarium Saturni 22 Albacete 306 Albolafia waterwheel 205 Alcazaba 192 Alcázar of al-Zahrāʾ 319 Alcázar of Córdoba 166, 167, 170, 171, 172, 174, 175, 177, 178, 182, 189, 203, 204, 206, 207, 214, 240 Alcázar of Seville 208 Al-Dār al-burūdiyya 176 Alentejo 133 Alexandria 443, 444 Algarve 133, 136 Algeciras Gate 144 Algeciras 132, 338, 438, 462 Algeria 132 Almería 423, 482, 485 Almodóvar Gate 190 246 Almunia of al-Nāʿūra 173 Almunia of al-Ruṣāfa 173 Altos de Santa Ana 68 Aqua (Vetus) Augusta 28, 30 Aqua Nova Domitiana Augusta 28 Aqua Portora 227 Aquae Flaviae 25 Arenal 240 Arnisol (Anzul) 359 Arrabal 245 Atlantic Ocean 240 Auvernia 79 Bāb ʿAbd al-Jabbār al-Maṭmūs 179 Bāb al-ʿAdl 179 Bāb ʿĀmir al-Qurashī 150, 190, 212, 244, 246 Bāb al-ʿAṭṭarīn 150, 190 Bāb al-Hadīd 150, 190, 225 Bāb al-Hudā 190, 338 Bāb Ibn ʿAbd al-Jabbār 190 Bāb Ishbīliya 145, 190, 237 Bāb al-jadīd al-qiblī 179 Bāb al-Jawz / Bāb Baṭalyaws 190 Bāb al-Jazīra 144 Bāb al-Jinān 179 Bāb Luyūn 190

Bāb al-Mulk 179 Bāb al-Mushabbak 174 Bāb al-Qanṭara 144, 179, 190, 212 Bāb Rūmiyya 190 Bāb al-Sābāṭ 179 Bāb al-Ṣināʿa 179 Bāb al-Sudda 178, 181 Bāb al-Ṣūra 144 Bāb Ṭalabīra 190 Bāb Ṭulayṭula/Liyūn 190, 338 Bāb al-Wuzarāʼ 181, 465 Bāb al-Yahūd 150, 190, 244, 245, 337 Babylon 339 Badajoz 323 Baelo Claudia 25, 26, 27, 28 Baetica 7, 22, 25, 26, 29, 30, 31, 32, 34, 38, 39, 51, 61, 63, 104, 131, 354 Baetis river 22, 23, 26, 36, 41 Baeza Gate 244, 246 Baghdad 147, 150, 151, 164, 240, 242, 274, 293, 313, 412, 441, 452 Bāja 307 Balaguer 480 Balāṭ al-Ḥurr 202 Balāṭ Ludrīq 202 Balāṭ Mughīt 202, 224, 245 Barcelona 87 Basilica of Coracho in Lucena 72 Basilica of Saint Acisclus 82, 225 Basilica of San Vicente, 227 Basilica of Sant’ Apollinare Nuovo 65 Basilica of the Three Crowns 71 Basilica of the Three Saints 222, 225 Basilica Sanctae Mariae 356 Bayt al-Wizāra 181 Bayt al-Wuzarāʼ 181 Beja 307 Bilbilis 23 Bracara Augusra 39, 41 Braga 87 Bridge Gate 59, 69, 144 Britain 38 Burdigala 38 Burgos 100, 484 Burriana 138 Byzantium 138

502 Cabra 52, 110 Cádiz 233 Cairo 164, 242, 274, 345, 437 Caliphal Baths (Campo Santo de los Mártires) 204 Camino de las almunias 236 Camino de los Nogales 236 Campo de la Verdad cemetery 314 Campo de la Verdad 63, 65, 123 Campo Santos de los Mártires 172, 204 Canary Islands 444 Cañito de María Ruiz 236 Cape of Fermo 486 Cardosa Garden 478 Carmona 143 Cartagena 89 Carteia 62, 68 Carthago Nova 26, 68 Carthago Spartaria 58, 62, 69, 72 Casa de las Acémilas 168 Casa del Rehén (House of the Hostage) 210 Castillo del Maimón 35 Catalavera 145 Cathedral of Zamora 467 Cathedral of Autun 485 Cathedral of Braga 476 Cathedral of Girona 465 Cathedral of Pisa 461 Cathedral of Segovia 451 Cemetery of Umm Salama 245 Cercadilla suburb (San Acisclo?) 232 Cercadilla 27, 28, 29, 30, 32, 33, 38, 59, 70, 101, 102, 104 114, 115, 120, 121, 124, 244, 246, 252, 254, 258, 263, 265, 266, 267, 268, 306, 309 Cerdeña 461 Ceuta 427 Chalcedon 56, 57 Charilla 463 Church of San Nicolás 225 Church of Santiago 225 Church of St John the Baptist 146, 147 Church of the Captives 337 Church of the prisoners 145 Church Santa Catalina (Convent of Santa Clara) 66 Clermont 79 Cleveland Museum 485 Colonia Patricia 7, 58, 61, 67, 68, 73

index of toponyms Colonial Forum 28, 33 Column of Trajan 172 Complutum 26 Constantinople 52, 147, 457 Convent of San Pablo 245 Coracho 52 Cortijo de Chinales, episcopal complex 222 Cyprus 58, 59 Damascus 8, 134, 136, 146, 147, 230, 306, 441, 452, 457 Dār al- Ḥaṣā 177 Dār al-Awlād 175, 176 Dār al-burūd 176 Dār al-ḍarb 176 Dār al-khilāfa 176 Dār al-Madaniyyāt 176 Dār al-mulk 176 Dār al-rahn 176 Dār al-rawḍa 176 Dār al-rujām 175 Dār al-ṣadaqa 176 Dār al-sikka 176, 311 Dār al-ṣināʿa 319 Dār al-surūr 177 Dār al-ṭirāz 176, 311, 338, 482 Dār al-wuzarāʼ 175, 181 Dār al-zawāmil 176 Denia 423, 449, 450 Dianium 73 Ecclesia Sancti Cipriani 356 Écija 89, 318, 319 Egabrum (Cabra) 71, 359 Egypt 132, 149, 151, 291 Elo 69 Elvira 33 Emerita 56, 58, 68 Episcopal complex of San Vicente 384 Episcopal palace / episcopal complex 33, 35 Ermita Nueva 463 Façade of San Esteban 312 Fez 368, 427, 486 Figlina Ceparia 22 Florence 459 Fontanar de Cabanos (Almunia, suburb, and cemetery) 232, 233

503

index of toponyms Fortress of the Catholic Monarchs 205, 207 Forum Novum / Forum Adiectum 8, 24 Forum of Augustus 26 Fretum Gaditanum 53, 73 Furn Burril 224 Fusṭāṭ 345 Galicia 145 Gallia 27 Gandersheim Abbey 150 Garden of the Queen 463 Garrucha 463 Gate of justice 171 Gate of the Ossuary 337, 347 Gate of the Statue 144 Gate of the Viziers 465 Gates of the Alcazar 167 Gaul 38 Germania 38 Germo Basilica 63 Gerona 87 Ghaḍīra 314 Girona 323 Gran Capitán House 312 Granada 20, 343, 410, 427, 449, 458, 465 Guadacabrillas Tower 208 Guadajoz 35 Guadalete 133 Guadalquivir river 20, 337 Guadalquivir Valley 7, 23 Guadiana valleys 7 Ḥammām Gate 205 Hellín 306 Hispalis 29, 39, 41, 51, 58, 63, 80, 82 Hispania Baetica 79, 82, 84, 88, 221 Hispania Ulterior 26, 221 Hispania 27, 39, 51, 53, 55, 57, 58, 59, 65, 68, 72 House of infante don Luis 382 Huelva 133, 419 Huerta del Alcázar 193, 208 Huerta del Rey 178 Huete 182 Ifrīqiya 135, 167, 168, 227, 271 Igabrum 31 Ilbīra 478, 479, 480, 482 Iliberris 20, 355

Ilici 62 Indian Ocean 240 Iquiecipo 259 Iran 132 Iraq 438 Ishbīliya 135, 136, 307 Ispali 133 Italica 25 Italy 54, 55 Jaén 157, 306, 339, 427, 463, 483 Jardín del Obispo (Bishop’s Garden) 204 Al-Jazīra 149 Jerusalem 150 Jewish courtier 339 Jillīqiya 145 Jordan 230 Kairouan 164, 338 Kanīsat al-Asrāʼ 145 Al-Kawthar (mosque) 245 Al-Khushanī 143 Lattice gate 174 León 277, 278, 477 Lerida 87 Libya 132 Linares 35 Lisbon 26 Loja 463 Lucena 342, 465 Lugo 87 Madīnat al-Zāhira 172, 173, 181, 192, 224, 236, 240, 324, 381, 382, 423 Madīnat al-Zahrāʼ 97, 153, 168, 171, 174201, 205, 207, 235, 236, 237, 240, 242, 271, 272, 275, 276, 277, 278, 279, 280, 282, 285, 292, 293, 294, 295, 296, 298, 305, 306, 311, 316, 319, 322, 323, 324, 339, 342, 343, 423, 447, 457, 458, 459, 465, 467, 469, 473, 475, 478, 479, 480, 481, 482, 484 Madīnat Ilbīra 462, 463, 465 Madrasat b. Yūsuf 458 Madrid 63, 312, 324, 484, 485 al-Mahdiyya 272, 294 Malaca 62, 72 Málaga 346, 481

504 Mallorca 480 Maqbarat al-Rabāḍ 138, 314 Maqbarat Shaqunda 222 Marrakesh 182, 437, 488, 458 Mār Sābā 357 Masjid ʿĀmir Hishām 225 Masjid Masrūr 224, 234 Masjid al-Qahf 224 Masjid al-Shifāʼ 224 Masjid Umm Salama 224 Mecca 382 Medina (Arabian Peninsula) 228 Meknes 360 Merida 25, 100, 104, 105, 106, 107, 108, 109, 112, 114, 115, 117, 122, 123, 124, 133, 186, 311 Monastery of St. Catherine (Mt. Sinai) 366 Monastery of San Salvador de Oña 484 Montija 419 Monzón 459 Mores 461 Morocco 132, 360, 467 Mosque of ʿAjab 234 Mosque of al-Qarawiyyīn 486 Mosque of Cordoba 147, 153, 168, 171, 173, 174, 274, 292, 305, 310, 311, 312, 322, 382, 384, 388, 392, 399, 413, 463 Mosque of San Juan 200, 201, 213 Mosque of San Lorenzo 213 Mosque of Santa Clara 200, 210, 213 Mosque of Santiago 213 Mosque of Umm Salama 234 Muʼammara (cemetery and mosque of) 234 Muḥammad b. Yazīd 135 Munigua 25, 27 Munt Līsham 419 Munyat ʿAbd Allāh 224, 245 Munyat ʿAjab 222, 224, 233 Munyat al-Mughīra 224, 245 Munyat al-Ruṣāfa 222, 224, 230, 231, 239 Munyat Dār al-Mulk 227 Murcia 481 Muṣāra of Córdoba 174 Mutʿa (mosque and cemeteries of) 234 Narbonne 107, 138, 306 Navarra 277, 467 Navas de Tolosa, Las 246 Nueva Carteya 110

index of toponyms Obulco 31 Osario Gate 194 Palace of al-Badīʿ 488 Palacio Episcopal 172 Palencia 459 Paris 442 Persia 138 Pescadería baths 214 Phocaea 58, 59 Plasencia Gate 244, 246 Pollentia 69 Portus Cordubensis 35, 38 Puerta del Puente (Gate of the Bridge) 210 Puteoli 35 Pyrinees 132, 136 Qaṣr al-ʿumarāʼ 207, 311 Qaṭalbayra 145 Qatar 459 Qayrawān 143 Qulzum 441 Qurṭuba 7, 134, 135, 138, 139, 142, 147, 149, 150, 153, 154, 156, 157, 158, 165, 169, 171, 173, 181, 182, 307, 406, 457, 459, 461, 455, 466, 467, 468, 477, 478, 481, 483, 485, 488, 489, 491 Qūt Rāshah 224 Rabaḍ Bāb al-Yahūd 337 Rabaḍ Balāṫ Mughīt 222, 232, 237 Rabaḍ al-Burj 224, 232 Rabaḍ Furn Burril 232 Rabaḍ hawānīt al-rayḥān 224 Rabaḍ Masjid Umm Salama 224 Rabaḍ Qūt Rāshah 225, 232 Rabaḍ al-Raqqāqīn 224 Rabaḍ al-Ruṣāfa 241 Rabaḍ Shabulār 222, 225, 232 Rabad Shaqunda 222 Rabaḍ al-Zāhira 224 Raqqāda 290, 295 Recópolis 61 Reina Sofía Hospital (Almunia and suburb) 232 Resafa-Hisham 231 Roman bridge (of Córdoba) 174 Roman theater 24, 25, 26, 28, 29, 30, 31, 33, 34, 36

505

index of toponyms Rome 20, 22, 26, 30, 36, 38, 39, 40, 84, 104, 221 Ronda de América Avenue 245 Al-Rumaniyya 239 Al-Ruṣāfa 233, 237, 240 Ruṣāfa 407, 437 Ṣabra al-Manṣūriyya 272 Salé 360 Salón Rico (Madināt al-Zahrāʼ) 274, 276, 277, 278, 288, 289, 293, 319 Salsum river 35 Samarra 240, 242, 274 San Agustín Church 400 San Hipólito Church 400 San Vitale at Ravena 63 Santa Ana de la Albaida 35 Santa Clara Convent 378, 382, 383, 384, 385, 399, 400 Santa María baths 214 Saqunda 267 Saragossa 87 Secunda 144, 227 Septem 62, 72 Seville Gate 145, 194 Seville 26, 80, 88, 89, 90, 133, 135, 136, 155, 156, 157, 182, 186, 233, 244, 307, 312, 318, 325, 326, 414, 423, 424, 427, 437, 450, 481, 483 Shabulār 225 Al-Shām 149 Shaqunda 227, 228, 233, 239, 245 Shaqunda quarter 144, 306, 338 Sicily 489 Sidonia 143 Sierra Morena 7, 36, 245, 347 Sigüenza 361 Singilia Barba 25 Sisapo 36 Soria 484 St Vincent’s church 147, 148 Suburb of the amphitheater 232 Suez 441 Syria 230, 313

Tangier 443, 444 Tarpeian Rock 22 Tarraco 27, 39, 40 Tarraconensis 31, 40 Tarragona 87 Ṭarsayl 144 Tartessos 7 Ṭarūb Fakhr (Mosques of) 234 Templo de la Calle Claudio Marcelo 23, 29, 38 Templum Divi Augusti (Temple of Morería Street) 24, 25, 27, 30, 34 Templum Divorum (Temple of Claudio Marcelo Street) 28, 34 Toledo / Ṭulayṭula 40, 51, 87, 100, 108, 109, 112, 114, 124, 158, 186, 306, 325, 347, 370, 437, 443, 450, 480 Tolmo de Minateda 26, 62, 306 Torre de las Vírgenes (Virgins’ Tower) 208 Tortosa 319 Toulouse 138 Tunisia 132 Turdetan Cordoba 22 Turkey 149 Umm Salama cemetery 347 Valdeolleros 244, 245 Valencia 87, 480 Valentia 53 Vega Baja 306 Via Augusta 246 Vicus forensis 23 Vicus Furn Burril 222, 225 Vicus Qūt Rāshah 222 Vicus Tiraceorum 224 Vicus Turris 222, 224, 225, 232 Villa del Río 310 Zamora 100 Zaragoza 325, 340, 346, 415, 441, 450 Al-Zaytūna 231