During the first three centuries of Islamic rule, Muslims first articulated what it meant to become Muslim. In early Isl
957 137 52MB
English Pages [321] Year 2021
Table of contents :
Cover
Advance Praise for Conversion to Islam
Conversion to Islam
Copyright
Dedication
Contents
Acknowledgments
Note on Transliteration
Conversion Topoi and Their Subsequent Themes
Muslim Historians under the ᶜAbbāsids (ca. 133/750–299/911)
Glossary
1. Introduction: Conversion Themes in Early Islamic Historiography
Focus of Research and Significance of Time Period
Key Themes and Arguments of the Study
State of the Art
Distinctive Contribution of This Study
Scope and Demarcations of the Study
Skepticism toward the Sources
Methodology: Interplay between Historical Phenomena and Literary Depictions
Structure and Plan of the Book
2. Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads
Authors under the Umayyads: Historical Context and Authenticity of Sources
Sulaym ibn Qays (d. 76/695)
Ibn Shihāb al-Zuhrī (d. 124/741)
Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba (d. 135/752 or 141/758)
Conversion Topoi under the Umayyads: Early Literary Indications
Topoi of Significance
Topoi of Compromise
Topoi of Supremacy
Topoi of Affirmation
Conclusion
3. Establishing Pro-ᶜAbbāsid Orthodoxy: Conversion Themes in Islamic Historiography under the Early ᶜAbbāsids (ca. 133/750–218/833)
Introduction: Recapitulation and Setting the Stage
Major Historians under the Early ᶜAbbāsids (ca. 133/750–218/833)
Sayf ibn ᶜUmar al-Tamīmī (d. 180/796)
Ibn ᶜUmar al-Wāqidī (d. ca. 207/823)
Hishām ibn al-Kalbī (d. 204/819)
Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim (d. 212/827)
Ibn Isḥāq (d. 151/761) and Ibn Hishām (d. 218/833)
Abū Muḥammad Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam al-Miṣrī (d. 214/829)
Conversion Themes under the Early ᶜAbbāsids (ca. 133/750–218/833)
Conversion of Jews and Christians: Islam’s Supremacy or Insincere Devotion?
Significant Conversions: The Awā’il and the Socially Distinct
Encountering Muhammad and His Message: Affirming Prophethood
Genuine vs. Insincere Conversion: What Kind Is Your Islam?
Conclusion
4. Attempts at Compromise: Conversion Themes in Islamic Historiography in the Aftermath of the Miḥna (218/833–299/911)
The Miḥna and the Caliphal Fight for Religious Authority
Post-Miḥna Historians
Muḥammad ibn Saᶜd (d. 230/844)
Ibn Sallām al-Jumaḥī (d. 232/847)
Yaḥyā ibn Maᶜīn (d. 233/847)
Muṣᶜab ibn ᶜAbdullāh al-Zubayrī (d. 236/851)
Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ (d. 240/854)
Ibn Ḥabīb al-Baghdādī (d. 245/895)
Al-Zubayr ibn Bakkār (d. 256/870)
Abū al-Qāsim ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam (d. 257/871)
ᶜUmar ibn Shabba (d. 262/875)
Ibn Qutayba al-Dīnawarī (d. 276/889)
Yaᶜqūb ibn Sufyān al-Fasawī (d. 277/890)
Aḥmad Ibn Yaḥyā al-Balādhurī (d. ca. 279/892)
Ibn Abī Khaythama (d. 279/892)
Abū Zurᶜa al-Rāzī al-Dimashqī (d. 281/894)
Abū Ḥanīfa al-Dīnawarī (d. ca. 282/895)
Ibn Wāḍiḥ al-Yaᶜqūbī (d. 284/897 or 292/905)
Concluding Remarks on Post-Miḥna Historians
Post-Miḥna Conversion Themes
Topoi of Significance
Topoi of Compromise
Topoi of Supremacy and Affirmation
Attempts at Compromise: Reconciling Trends and Pro-Umayyad Voices
Al-ᶜAbbās ibn ᶜAbd al-Muṭṭalib (d. 32/653)
Muᶜāwiya ibn Abī Sufyān (d. 61/680)
ᶜAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib (d. 40/661)
Conclusion
5. Conclusion
Primary Source Authors in Chronological Order
Modern and Contemporary Arabic-Speaking Authors That Appear in the Study
Works Cited
Primary Sources
Secondary Sources
Index
Conversion to Islam
Advance Praise for Conversion to Islam “This book is a valuable contribution to the study of early Islamic historiography, viewed through the lens of narratives of conversion to Islam. Ibrahim categorizes these stories into four main groups according to their objectives as narratives and demonstrates how several generations of historians shaped and reshaped these narratives in response to both their own political and theological beliefs, and the political and theological environment in which they worked—whether under the Umayyads, under the ᶜAbbāsids before the miḥna or caliphal inquisition, or under the ᶜAbbāsids after the end of the miḥna. His meticulous examination of the perspectives and biases of individual historians, while focused primarily on the theme of conversion, will make his book also a convenient reference for scholars who consult these medieval authors on other topics. Clearly written and compellingly argued, this work represents a giant step forward in making sense of the early Islamic tradition of historical writing” —Fred M. Donner (The University of Chicago), author of Narratives of Islamic Origins “How was conversion to Islam remembered by medieval Muslim scholars? Working at the intersection of history and historiography, Ayman Ibrahim illuminates multilayered discourses on conversion and offers a sensible typology of evolving literary themes and narratives in the source material. In so doing, Ibrahim sheds a fresh light on the memory of one of the most significant social and cultural changes of the formative period of Islam” —Antoine Borrut (University of Maryland), author of Entre mémoire et pouvoir
Conversion to Islam Competing Themes in Early Islamic Historiography AYM A N S . I B R A H I M
1
3 Oxford University Press is a department of the University of Oxford. It furthers the University’s objective of excellence in research, scholarship, and education by publishing worldwide. Oxford is a registered trade mark of Oxford University Press in the UK and certain other countries. Published in the United States of America by Oxford University Press 198 Madison Avenue, New York, NY 10016, United States of America. © Oxford University Press 2021 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of Oxford University Press, or as expressly permitted by law, by license, or under terms agreed with the appropriate reproduction rights organization. Inquiries concerning reproduction outside the scope of the above should be sent to the Rights Department, Oxford University Press, at the address above. You must not circulate this work in any other form and you must impose this same condition on any acquirer. CIP data is on file at the Library of Congress ISBN 978–0–19–753071–9 DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780197530719.001.0001 1 3 5 7 9 8 6 4 2 Printed by Integrated Books International, United States of America
To the most precious treasure I have, my wife.
Contents Acknowledgments Note on Transliteration Conversion Topoi and Their Subsequent Themes Muslim Historians under the ᶜAbbāsids (ca. 133/750–299/911) Glossary
xi xiii xv xvii xix
1. Introduction: Conversion Themes in Early Islamic Historiography 1 Focus of Research and Significance of Time Period Key Themes and Arguments of the Study State of the Art Distinctive Contribution of This Study Scope and Demarcations of the Study Skepticism toward the Sources Methodology: Interplay between Historical Phenomena and Literary Depictions Structure and Plan of the Book
2. Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads
Authors under the Umayyads: Historical Context and Authenticity of Sources Sulaym ibn Qays (d. 76/695) Ibn Shihāb al-Zuhrī (d. 124/741) Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba (d. 135/752 or 141/758)
3 5 7 16 19 20 24 25
31 35 35 41 49
Conversion Topoi under the Umayyads: Early Literary Indications
55
Conclusion
97
Topoi of Significance Topoi of Compromise Topoi of Supremacy Topoi of Affirmation
57 79 89 93
3. Establishing Pro-ᶜAbbāsid Orthodoxy: Conversion Themes in Islamic Historiography under the Early ᶜAbbāsids (ca. 133/750– 218/833) 101 Introduction: Recapitulation and Setting the Stage Major Historians under the Early ᶜAbbāsids (ca. 133/750–218/833) Sayf ibn ᶜUmar al-Tamīmī (d. 180/796) Ibn ᶜUmar al-Wāqidī (d. ca. 207/823) Hishām ibn al-Kalbī (d. 204/819)
101 107 107 110 116
viii Contents Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim (d. 212/827) Ibn Isḥāq (d. 151/761) and Ibn Hishām (d. 218/833) Abū Muḥammad Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam al-Miṣrī (d. 214/829)
Conversion Themes under the Early ᶜAbbāsids (ca. 133/750–218/833)
Conversion of Jews and Christians: Islam’s Supremacy or Insincere Devotion? Significant Conversions: The Awā’il and the Socially Distinct Encountering Muhammad and His Message: Affirming Prophethood Genuine vs. Insincere Conversion: What Kind Is Your Islam?
Conclusion
4. Attempts at Compromise: Conversion Themes in Islamic Historiography in the Aftermath of the Miḥna (218/833–299/911) The Miḥna and the Caliphal Fight for Religious Authority Post-Miḥna Historians Muḥammad ibn Saᶜd (d. 230/844) Ibn Sallām al-Jumaḥī (d. 232/847) Yaḥyā ibn Maᶜīn (d. 233/847) Muṣᶜab ibn ᶜAbdullāh al-Zubayrī (d. 236/851) Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ (d. 240/854) Ibn Ḥabīb al-Baghdādī (d. 245/895) Al-Zubayr ibn Bakkār (d. 256/870) Abū al-Qāsim ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam (d. 257/871) ᶜUmar ibn Shabba (d. 262/875) Ibn Qutayba al-Dīnawarī (d. 276/889) Yaᶜqūb ibn Sufyān al-Fasawī (d. 277/890) Aḥmad Ibn Yaḥyā al-Balādhurī (d. ca. 279/892) Ibn Abī Khaythama (d. 279/892) Abū Zurᶜa al-Rāzī al-Dimashqī (d. 281/894) Abū Ḥanīfa al-Dīnawarī (d. ca. 282/895) Ibn Wāḍiḥ al-Yaᶜqūbī (d. 284/897 or 292/905) Concluding Remarks on Post-Miḥna Historians
118 121 128
130 130 143 150 155
167
169 172 179 180 181 181 182 183 185 186 187 188 189 191 192 194 195 196 197 199
Post-Miḥna Conversion Themes
201
Attempts at Compromise: Reconciling Trends and Pro-Umayyad Voices
215
Conclusion
229
Topoi of Significance Topoi of Compromise Topoi of Supremacy and Affirmation
Al-ᶜAbbās ibn ᶜAbd al-Muṭṭalib (d. 32/653) Muᶜāwiya ibn Abī Sufyān (d. 61/680) ᶜAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib (d. 40/661)
5. Conclusion
201 206 213 218 223 227
231
Contents ix Primary Source Authors in Chronological Order Modern and Contemporary Arabic-Speaking Authors That Appear in the Study Works Cited Primary Sources Secondary Sources Index
247 251 255 255 263 289
Acknowledgments This book is based on my second Ph.D., which I completed at the Department of Middle Eastern and Islamic Studies at Haifa University under the supervision of Uriel Simonsohn and Avner Giladi. Both invested tremendously in my work. I am thankful for Giladi’s valuable insights, constant support, and genuine encouragement. Simonsohn, as my direct advisor, has helped me in many ways that I value and appreciate. I have learned something from every conversation I have had with him. In my time at Haifa University, I became good friends with Yaron Friedman. Our friendship is one of the wonderful highlights of my time there. I have profound gratitude for him and the insightful conversations we had over coffee. As I prepared this book for publication, Jack Tannous and Christian Sahner were so kind and remarkably generous with their time. I am grateful for their encouragement and valuable observations. In the final stages of publication, Fred Donner and Luke Yarbrough read large portions of the manuscript and offered substantial feedback. I am so thankful for their contribution. Their helpful comments and valuable insights are at the center of anything good in this study. I am eternally grateful for my wife, who tirelessly walks with me all the way, never complains, and remains always cheerful. Her love for me and belief in my work keep me going with nothing less than maximum gratitude in my heart for her extraordinary role in my life. Finally, I am indebted to my leaders and colleagues at the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, as well as to my team at the Jenkins Center for the Christian Understanding of Islam. This is a remarkable community that allows me time and provides me resources to focus on research and writing. I could never ask for a better job. I am grateful to all of these wonderful supporters in my journey. To all, shukran, alf shukr.
Note on Transliteration The transliteration system followed in this project is for the most part the one used by the International Journal of Middle East Studies (IJMES) transliteration guide. I use the English terms known for various Arabic words without transliteration (e.g., jihad, Shahada, Prophet Muhammad, etc.). I do not use Anglicized plurals, but rather the fully transliterated words (aḥādīth instead of ḥadīths). The initial hamza is always dropped, and the Arabic definite article (al-) is lowercase everywhere unless it is the first word in a sentence. The Arabic tā’ marbūṭa is rendered “a” not “ah” (ᶜarabiyya instead of ᶜarabiyyah), except in iḍāfa as -at (e.g., Saqīfat Banī Sāᶜida). The final short vowel is dropped (aslam instead of aslama). The words ibn and bint are not abbreviated as b. and bt. Proper Arabic names are transliterated but not italicized. The short vowels are a for fatḥa, i for kasra, and u for ḍamma. The long vowels are ā for alif, ū for wāw, and ī for yā’. The diphthongs are ay and aw.
Short Biographical Sketch Ayman S. Ibrahim, Ph.D., was born and raised in Egypt. He has taught in various countries within the Muslim world, and in the West at undergraduate and graduate levels. He completed his second Ph.D. in 2018 at the Department of Middle Eastern and Islamic Studies at the University of Haifa, Mount Carmel. His research examined conversions to Islam in the earliest Muslim period. His first Ph.D. was completed in 2014 at Fuller Graduate Schools (California). It was published as a monograph titled The Stated Motivations for the Early Islamic Expansion (Peter Lang, 2018). He currently serves as Bill and Connie Jenkins Professor of Islamic Studies at Southern Seminary and the director of the Jenkins Center for the Christian Understanding of Islam. His articles on Islam and Muslim-Christian relations appeared in the Washington Post, Religion News Services, Colorado Springs Gazette, Louisville Courier-Journal, First Things, Faith Street, Charisma News, American Thinker, Evangelical Interfaith Dialogue Journal, and Ethics Daily, among others.
Conversion Topoi and Their Subsequent Themes Conversion Themes
Topoi
The earliest/first to accept Islam (awā’il, firsts) Conversion to Islam that is ḥasan (good) Conversion of the wujahā’ (notables) Conversion of slaves Conversion of women Conversion followed by good deeds, destroying idols Conversion followed by persecution Changing name after conversion Conversion before Muhammad entered Ibn al- Arqam’s house to preach Refusing conversion or rejecting the preaching of Islam
Topoi of Significance Aim to highlight areas of uniqueness in conversion
Conversion of al-ṭulaqā’ Conversion of al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum Conversion after the conquest of Mecca Conversion to save one’s life Conversion to spare children, wife, and possessions Collective conversion Conversion after defeat in battle Conversion in secret Reversion from Islam
Topoi of Compromise Aim to indicate an insincere conversion for questionable reasons
Conversion of ahl al-kitāb Conversion of Jews Conversion of Christians
Topoi of Supremacy Aim to stress Islam’s hegemony and its superiority over previous religions
Conversion as a result of encountering Topoi of Affirmation Muhammad Aim to prove Muhammad’s Conversion after hearing the recitation of prophethood, his excellent the Qur’ān qualities, and the eloquence of his Conversion after hearing the preaching of Islam Qur’ānic message Conversion after reading Muhammad’s mention in pre-Islamic scriptures Conversion due to hearing of Islam from relatives
Muslim Historians under the ᶜAbbāsids (ca. 133/750–299/911)
ᶜAbbāsid Caliphs
Muslim Historians
Al-Manṣūr (r. 136/754–158/775) Al-Mahdī (r. 158/775–169/786) Al-Hādī (r. 169/786–170/786) Al-Rashīd (r. 170/786–193/809) Al-Amīn (r. 193/809–198/813) Al-Ma’mūn (r. 198/813–218/833) Al-Muᶜtaṣim (r. 218/833–228/842) Al-Wāthiq (r. 228/842–233/847) Al-Mutawakkil (r. 232/847–247/861) Al-Muntaṣir (r. 247/861–248/862) Al-Mustaᶜīn (r. 248/862–252/866) Al-Muᶜtazz (r. 252/866–255/869) Al-Muhtadī (r. 255/869–256/870) Al-Muᶜtamid (r. 256/870–279/892) Al-Muᶜtaḍid (r. 279/892–289/902)
Ibn Isḥāq (d. 151/761) Sayf ibn ᶜUmar (d. 180/796) Abū Isḥāq al-Fazārī (d. 186/802) Hishām Ibn al-Kalbī (d. 204/819) Al-Wāqidī (d. ca. 207/823) Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam al-Miṣrī (d. 214/829) Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim (d. 212/827) Ibn Hishām (d. 218/833) Muḥammad ibn Saᶜd (d. 230/844) Ibn Sallām al-Jumaḥī (d. 232/847) Yaḥyā ibn Maᶜīn (d. 233/847) Muṣᶜab ibn ᶜAbdullāh al-Zubayrī (d. 236/851) Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ (d. 240/854) Ibn Ḥabīb al-Baghdādī (d. 245/895) Zubayr ibn Bakkār (d. 256/870) Abū al-Qāsim ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam (d. 257/871) ᶜUmar ibn Shabba (d. 262/875) Ibn Qutayba al-Dīnawarī (d. 276/889) Yaᶜqūb ibn Sufyān al-Fasawī (d. 277/890) Ibn Abī Khaythama (d. 279/892) Ibn Yaḥyā al-Balādhurī (d. ca. 279/892) Abū Zurᶜa al-Rāzī al-Dimashqī (d. 281/894) Abū Ḥanīfa Dīnawarī (d. ca. 282/895) Ibn Wāḍiḥ al-Yaᶜqūbī (d. 284/897 or 292/905)
Glossary ᶜAbbāsids: They overthrew the Umayyads in ca. 133/750. They trace their lineage back to al-ᶜAbbās ibn ᶜAbd al-Muṭṭalib (d. 32/653), the uncle of Muhammad from the other branch of the Hāshim family. The ᶜAbbāsids claimed that the imamate was only in their family, either by wirātha (inheritance) from Muhammad or by waṣiyya (bequest) from ᶜAlī and his grandson Abū Hāshim. Cf. ᶜAlids and Hāshimites. Ahl al-ḥadīth: The ḥadīth scholars, who were also known as aṣḥāb al-ḥadīth or the ḥadīth party, identifying them as the adherents of Muhammad’s traditions. They revered the ḥadīth and elevated it as the second authority in Islam, second only to the Qur’ān. They grew in power in the early ᶜAbbāsid period and became the major opposition against the caliphal authority during the miḥna. Cf. traditionists, ᶜulamā’, and muḥaddithūn. Ahl al-kitāb: A Qur’ānic term that refers to the People of the Book, or Scripture People, commonly understood as Christians and Jews. ᶜAlids: The descendants of ᶜAlī, who claim the imamate in his descendants alone. Today, they represent broad Shīᶜism and include several groups, such as the Imāmīs, Ismāᶜīlīs, and Zaydīs. Cf. Shīᶜism, Saba’iyya, and ᶜAbbāsids. Anṣār: The locals of Medina known as the supporters of Muhammad. They believed his message and helped him and his followers after their emigration from Mecca. Cf. muhājirūn and hijra. Early ᶜAbbāsid Period: The period from the ᶜAbbāsid revolution in 132/749 to the death of al-Ma’mūn in 218/833. Futūḥ: The military conquests conducted by the Arab commanders after Muhammad’s death during the caliphate period. The term also refers to the written traditions (futūḥ literature) that deal with the military expeditions. This Arabic term describes the conquests as acts of “opening” and liberating the conquered lands.
Ḥadīth: A report of a saying, teaching, or deed attributed to a religious figure, particularly the Prophet Muhammad. Its plural form is aḥādīth, which are compiled in sets by various Muslim compilers. Hāshimites: The Hāshimite family, the wide family of Muhammad, includes both ᶜAlids and ᶜAbbāsids. The Hāshimites claim that the imamate is in all Hāshim descendants, both ᶜAlids and ᶜAbbāsids. Hijra: The emigration of Muhammad and his followers from Mecca to Medina. It took place in the year 622 in the Julian calendar, which was later adopted by the second Caliph ᶜUmar as the starting year of the Muslim lunar calendar known as Hijri dating.
xx Glossary Imāmīs: They claim that the imamate is not in the ᶜAbbāsid branch of the Hāshim family but only in descendants of the family of ᶜAlī and Fāṭima. They specify the imamate in twelve legitimate imams, thus called the shīᶜa Ithnāᶜashariyya (Twelver Shīᶜites). The imam refers to Muhammad’s successor as political leader and religious authority of the believers. Today, they are the majority among the Shīᶜites and are often representative of the second largest sect in Islam. Cf. Shīᶜism, ᶜAlids, and ᶜAbbāsids. Maghāzī: The raids, incursions, or expeditions organized, led, or commissioned by Muhammad after he emigrated from Mecca to Medina. The term also refers to Muhammad’s life generally. It was later developed to sīra (biography). The noun maghāzī is the plural of maghzā. Its verbal form is ghazā, which means “to invade.” Muḥaddithūn (sg. muḥaddith): The transmitters or scholars of ḥadīth; experts in traditions, and thus traditionists. Muhājirūn: Meccan emigrant Believers, who were the earliest to believe in Muhammad’s message. Under the hostile persecution of the pagan Meccans, they were forced to leave their homes and emigrate with Muhammad to Medina in the event called the hijra. Munāfiqūn (sg. Munāfiq): “Lukewarm Believers” or “uncommitted Muslims,” commonly translated as “hypocrites.” Mushrikūn (sg. Mushrik): Best translated as “associaters,” those associating partners with Allah. They are commonly understood to be polytheists. Saba’iyya: A derogatory epithet for an extremist Shīᶜite sect, considered one of the earliest sects in Islam and attributed to a convert from Judaism named ᶜAbdullāh ibn Saba’. Cf. ᶜUthmāniyya and Shīᶜism. Shīᶜism: A vision within Islam which claims that Muhammad’s family is the only source for political leadership and religious guidance. The religio-political leaders are called Imams. Shīᶜism in the early Islamic period is better understood as a political movement of the supporters of ᶜAlī. The commonly understood religious Shīᶜite veneration— advocating that ahl al-bayt (Muhammad’s Household) is the source of leadership (imamate)—did not develop until later. Sīra: Biography, especially when linked to Muhammad. Linguistically, the word refers to behavior, deeds, and conduct.
Ṭabaqāt (sg. Ṭabaqa): Classes or generations of the Believers. Tafsīr: “Explanation,” used to refer to a commentary on the Qur’ān, or more generally the branch of Qur’ānic commentary within the Islamic sciences. Ta’rīkh: Historiography, which is writing about the past. It is the literary genre that represents what Muslims believe to have happened in their past. Traditionalists: Usually refers to Muslims adopting a traditional and mostly conservative approach toward Islamic origins. When used in relation to non-Muslim authors, it refers to scholars who are likely to view the sources’ reliability positively.
Glossary xxi ᶜUlamā’ (sg. ᶜĀlim): Scholars in various disciplines, particularly religious scholars in this study. They include muḥaddithūn (ḥadīth experts, i.e., traditionists), jurists, theologians, and Qur’ān exegetes. Umma: The community of Muhammad’s followers, signifying their unity through the ideological bond of their faith. ᶜUthmāniyya: A movement which encompassed the supporters of the deceased Caliph ᶜUthmān, seeking revenge for his murder. It insisted on ᶜAlī’s involvement in ᶜUthmān’s
murder and served as an anti-ᶜAlid opposition. In some of its claims, Abū Bakr is identified as the most pious Muslim, the most worthy of Muhammad’s succession. As they con-
tinued to flourish, they disapproved of both the Umayyads and the ᶜAlids. Sayf ibn ᶜUmar
was, thus, ᶜUthmānī, in this particular sense.
1 Introduction Conversion Themes in Early Islamic Historiography
Muᶜāwiya summoned the reciters and judges of Syria, gave them money, and sent them all over Syria narrating false reports and fabricating historical accounts. —Sulaym ibn Qays (d. 76/695) I never doubted [Islam] as I did on the day of Ḥudaybiyya. —ᶜUmar ibn al-Khaṭṭāb, according to al-Zuhrī (d. 124/741)
In 1990, Richard W. Bulliet, in his article “Conversion Stories in Early Islam,” noted the scarce information on conversion to Islam “in the abundant medieval Arabic literature devoted to the religious community of Islam.”1 According to him, early Islamic historiographical sources, such as al-Balādhurī’s Futūḥ al-buldān, include only a “slight treatment of religious conversion.”2 His assessment of early Islamic historiography has led him to argue that modern scholars who study the phenomenon of conversion to Islam tend to rely on the “wrong sources.”3 Accordingly, Bulliet has advocated for the use of non-historiographical material, specifically the data from medieval biographic dictionaries that he presented in his famous book, Conversion to Islam in the Medieval Period (1979).4 Indeed, Bulliet has little faith in the usefulness of early Islamic historiography to uncover the history of conversion to Islam. 1 Bulliet, “Conversion Stories,” 123. In this book, bibliographical references are presented in abbreviated form (author and the first few words of the title). See Works Cited for publishers and publication places and dates. 2 Bulliet, “Conversion Stories,” 125. However, contrary to Bulliet’s statement, a thorough reading in Balādhirī’s Futūḥ al-buldān yields at least seventy explicit instances of conversion to Islam. For example, see pp. 37 (Abū Sufyān’s conversion to avoid death), 56–61 (collective tribal conversions), 64 (conversion of Christians), 68–69 and 74–75 (refusing conversion), 80, 85–87 (conversion and reversion), et passim. 3 Bulliet, “Conversion Stories,” 123. 4 Bulliet, Conversion, 4, 19, 74, 109, et passim.
Conversion to Islam. Ayman S. Ibrahim, Oxford University Press (2021). © Oxford University Press. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780197530719.003.0001
2 Conversion to Islam I concede that drawing straightforward links between historiographical reports and events which may have happened centuries earlier is problematic, especially in the absence of actual documentation.5 However, unlike Bulliet, I believe that early Islamic historiographical sources include an abundance of significant references to religious conversion. These references, I contend, reveal much about conversion, as they describe it as an act of religious, political, and social transition in changing terms and contexts. Early Islamic depictions of conversion not only reflect the diverse nature of the phenomenon and its varied perceptions, but also cast light on the religious debates, social concerns, political orientations, and ideological agendas of early Muslim historians. This book is concerned with the multifaceted nature of conversion as represented in Islamic historiographical accounts written during the first three centuries of Islam. The goal is to examine the evolving perceptions of conversion by critically analyzing how early Muslim historians—through their different religious, social, and political contexts—depicted the phenomenon. This is a fundamentally historiographical project, aiming to examine how Muslim historians understood and described the process of conversion. My goal is not to analyze actual events, but rather to investigate how Muslim writers described those events. The focus is not “what actually happened” but “what people said had happened.” The analysis will be carried out through an investigation of reoccurring patterns, both thematic and literary, and an examination of the effects of regional affiliation and religio-political inclination on conversion themes. While I rely heavily on Arabic historical accounts, the findings will match the conclusions of recent non-historiographical studies which argue that conversion began slowly, held different meanings, was sought to improve social status, and was achieved in various ways. 5 I will discuss textual and historiographical problems later, in the section “Skepticism toward the Sources”; however, here see Robinson, Empire and Elites, viii, where he rightly argues that our sources provide a “representation rather than record,” as the historians “wrote well after the events they describe.” See Rubin, The Eye of the Beholder, 1–3 , where he treats the Muslim accounts as reflecting “the self-image of medieval Islamic society” (3) and examines these texts “for the sake of the stories recorded in them, not for the sake of the events described in these stories” (1). See Hawting, “Review,” 126–1 29, where he argues, “it is difficult to see how anyone could expect to recover real facts about Muḥammad’s life from the sort of traditions and reports examined here” (127). Andrew Rippin writes, “The actual ‘history’ in the sense of ‘what really happened’ has become totally subsumed within later interpretation and is virtually, if not totally, inextricable from it,” as “The records we have are the existential records of the thought and faith of later generations.” Rippin, “Literary Analysis,” in Approaches, ed. Martin, 156.
Introduction 3
Focus of Research and Significance of Time Period In this section, I will identify the focus of this study, the period under scrutiny, and the importance of both. The overall objective of this study is to analyze the different portrayals of conversion by Muslim historians during the first three Islamic centuries (until ca. 299/911). The goal is not only to trace the numerous mentions of conversion, but also to examine whether the time of writing (authorship), its religio-political inclination (pro-ᶜAlid, pro-Umayyad, or pro-ᶜAbbāsid), its geographical orientation (Arabia, Iraq, Syria, or Egypt), and other factors played a role in each depiction. Why did non-Muslims reportedly convert to Islam during Muhammad’s life and under his immediate successors? How did Muslim historians portray these conversions? Why did their portrayals differ significantly, especially concerning major Muslim figures, such as ᶜAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib, al-ᶜAbbās ibn ᶜAbd al-Muṭṭalib, Abū Bakr, and Muᶜāwiya ibn Abī Sufyān? To what extent were the historians’ portrayals influenced by their time periods, religious inclinations, and political affiliations? These fundamental questions drive my investigation. The reason for focusing on the early Islamic period—specifically the first three centuries of Islam—is three-fold. First, this period precedes the compilation of the magnum opus of Ibn Jarīr al-Ṭabarī’s (d. 310/923) Ta’rīkh. This work marked a significant turning point in Muslim historical writing, as it designed a major “historiographical filter” and “a distorting [historical] prism,” which created a historiographical “orthodoxy” during an “intense period of canonization.”6 When describing the impact of al-Ṭabarī’s Ta’rīkh on historical writing, ᶜAbd al-ᶜAzīz al-Dūrī states, “it was al-Ṭabarī who established in final form the ḥadīth scholars’ approach to the writing of history.”7 While many historians of later generations followed his approach as 6 See Borrut, Entre, 103–107, where, speaking of the impact of al-Ṭabarī’s Ta’rīkh, Borrut concludes, “Pratiquement tous les développements suivants offriraient nombre d’interprétations nouvelles, mais le squelette historiographique n’était plus appelé à se transformer . . . peu importait les réinterprétations successives, puisque l’on avait déterminé le cadre d’un passé autorisé dans lequel elles étaient appelées à se couler” (108). See also Muṣṭafā, al-Ta’rīkh al-ᶜarabī wa-l-mu’arrikhūn, 1:253– 264, especially 264; Shoshan, Poetics, 61– 107; Keaney, “Remembering Rebellion,” 13; Rosenthal, Historiography, 63; Gilliot, Exégèse, 8, 207, 277. On how reliance on al-Ṭabarī’s work distorted the image of the Umayyads, see Judd, Religious, 143ff. See also Donner, Narratives, 127–128. 7 Al-Dūrī, Baḥth fī nash’at ᶜilm al-ta’rīkh, 154; its English translation by Lawrence Conrad, The Rise of Historical Writing among the Arabs, 159. Khalidi, Arabic, 73–74. See Shoshan, Poetics, 109ff., where the author attempts to trace and determine al-Ṭabarī’s methodology and lists various scholarly opinions, including the notion that al-Ṭabarī served as “a bridge between the two sequential genres of Prophetic Tradition (ḥadīth) and historiography (ta’rīkh)” (109).
4 Conversion to Islam a ḥadīth scholar, his influence extended even further: His accounts became the decisive corpus of historical reports on early Islam.8 Chase Robinson calls al-Ṭabarī’s Ta’rīkh “the definitive record of the first three centuries of Islam,” “the ne plus ultra of Islamic historical writing,” and concludes that, “In several respects, al-Tabari can be said to mark the end of the beginning of Islamic historiography.”9 Thus, in my investigation, it is crucial to mark the completion of the time period under scrutiny before al-Ṭabarī, as he appears to have affected both the details of historiographical accounts and the later authors who merely paraphrased and summarized his reports. Second, it is a period of crucial religious and political change, which, as will be evident in pages to follow, significantly affected historical writing. During this period, Muslims began not only to write their history, but also to rewrite it.10 Conversion, as a literary topic, is no exception. Soon after the topic was introduced, as the “historical memory” of the faithful began taking shape, it evolved.11 A variety of literary filters were at play, dictated by a host of sociopolitical considerations and religious debates and resulting in a series of historiographical layers.12 Competing opinions and conflicting views— pro-ᶜAlid, pro- Umayyad, pro- ᶜAbbāsid— were employed simultaneously with the genesis and growth of historiographical documentation.13 Because of this, modern scholarship has viewed Islamic historiography not only as accounts of the past, but also—and perhaps more so—as reflections of the political, religious, and social agendas of the historians.14 8 Muṣṭafā, al-Ta’rīkh al-ᶜarabī wa-l-mu’arrikhūn, 1: 261; al-Dūrī, Baḥth, 154. 9 Chase Robinson, “Islamic Historical Writing, 700–1000,” in Oxford History, ed. Foot and Robinson, 239–240. Robinson writes, “In subsequent centuries, universal historians would draw regularly and copiously upon al-Tabari’s work for material on early Islam” (240). See also Robinson, “Local,” 521–536; Rosenthal, Historiography, 139ff. 10 Wellhausen, Arab, xi–xii; Borrut, Entre, 37–40. See Hoyland, “Arabic,” 211–233, where he traces how the early ᶜAbbāsids adapted history to their cultural and political requirements. Chase Robinson argues that historians were not simply recording the past, but rather generating accounts. Robinson, Historiography, 38; Robinson, Empire and Elites, ch. 1. See also Petersen, ᶜAlī, 17, 50; Anthony, Muhammad, 129ff. 11 Sarah Savant, by focusing on the role of memory and its revision and erasure, argues, “Conversion to Islam led Iranians to recall their past in new ways and to accumulate new memories about their history.” Savant, New Muslims, 3, emphasis mine. See Spiegel, “Memory,” 149–162; Clanchy, From Memory, ch. 9; Robinson, Historiography, 172–177; Geary, Phantoms, 111–122; Hirschler, Written; Innes, “Memory.” 12 Borrut, Entre, 59–60, 80; Savant, New Muslims, 14; Petersen, ᶜAlī, 50. 13 Muṣṭafā, al-Ta’rīkh al-ᶜarabī wa-l-mu’arrikhūn, 1:74ff.; al-Dūrī, Baḥth, 15–70; Petersen, ᶜAlī, 19–20 et passim. 14 Borrut, Entre, 61–108; Robinson, Empire and Elites, ch. 1. Petersen, ᶜAlī, 50, where he argues, “The formation of the historical tradition consists above all in reflections of the political and religious conflicts of its own age.” Robinson states, “The rise of the historiographic tradition, whether or not it was triggered by caliphal patronage, was a deeply political process.” Robinson, Historiography, 40. See also al-ᶜAlawī, Maḥaṭṭāt fī al-tārīkh, 19–20; Hoyland, Seeing, 35.
Introduction 5 Third, it is during this period that a variety of historiographical genres (maghāzī, sīra, ta’rīkh, futūḥ, ṭabaqāt, ansāb, among others) not only emerged but also multiplied, narrativizing what Muslims believed— or wished to convey—regarding their past.15 This period witnessed the emergence of the umma (Muslim community) in Arabia, followed by the phenomenal expansion of the Islamic State during the Rāshidūn, Umayyads, and early ᶜAbbāsids, as well as the earliest encounter of the new faith with non-Muslim conquered people. It was a time when Muslims first articulated what it meant to become Muslim. Given its formative nature, this is the period when the earliest depictions of conversion, like many other historical themes, were shaped by the worldview of the authors and the considerations of their day.16 It is, therefore, crucial to examine how the topic emerged, developed, and transformed in the period under study—a period of utmost importance to the genesis and growth of historical writing, before the subsequent formation of a historiographical orthodoxy by al-Ṭabarī’s Ta’rīkh.
Key Themes and Arguments of the Study My argument in this book is four-fold. First, Muslim historiographical accounts contain abundant references to conversion to Islam. It is a topic of high importance and central concern to early Muslim historians, who repeatedly use it to settle sectarian arguments, make political statements, or claim religious qualities. In examining these references, I argue, there are many detectable literary themes, including the awā’il, which disputes the first, fastest, and earliest to accept Islam; the wujahā’, identifying the chiefs and notables who embraced it; ḥasun al-islām, signifying praiseworthy and honorable conversions, usually followed by good deeds such as destroying idols; the ṭulaqā’, who converted after their political defeat at the conquest of Mecca; and the mu’allafa qulūbuhum, who received incentives from Muhammad to convert.17 The themes also include conversion of ahl al-kitāb 15 See Robinson, Historiography, 39, where he writes of “the explosive growth of historical narrative in the eighth and early ninth centuries.” On narratives and narrativizing, see Sizgorich, “Narrative,” 9–11; Spiegel, “Form,” 43–53; Abbott, Cambridge Introduction; White, “Value”; Gerald Prince, “Surveying Narratology,” in What Is Narratology?, ed. Kindt and Müller, 1–16. 16 Borrut, Entre, 37; Schoeler, Écrire, 55. 17 I benefited greatly from Noth/Conrad, Early Arabic, 26–61, and Donner, Narratives, 141ff. On detecting historical themes, see Noth/Conrad (109ff.) and Donner (141–142). See also, though to a lesser extent, the discussions of themes in Islamic historiography in Robinson, Historiography, 18, 95–98, and Cook, Martyrdom, 4, 55, 124, 157. For the issue of “themes” in Muslim literature
6 Conversion to Islam (Jews and Christians), conversion after meeting Muhammad or hearing the Qur’ān, collective conversion, and reversion after conversion, among others. These themes reoccur in numerous early historical accounts. This indicates the prominence and significance of conversion as a literary topic in early Muslim debates and historiographical representations. Second, these themes can be grouped into four literary topoi: significance, compromise, supremacy, and affirmation. Topoi of significance are positive descriptions of the phenomenon. They emphasize unique conversions, including those of the awā’il (firsts), the wujahā’ (notables), slaves, and women. In contrast, topoi of compromise highlight disingenuous conversions, where converts merely seek materialistic gain apart from genuine conviction or avoid murder by accepting Islam. Compromise topoi appear in the conversion themes of al-ṭulaqā’ (who converted after their defeat in a battle) and al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum (who accepted Islam after their hearts were reconciled through incentives), among others. Topoi of supremacy advance Islam’s hegemony over other religions. They describe Islam’s success in convincing Jews and Christians to abandon their religions to embrace the new faith. They present Islam’s superiority in persuading the hearts and minds of Jewish rabbis and Christian monks. Topoi of affirmation follow a similar but not identical thread. They focus on Muhammad and his Qur’ānic message and provide evidence not only of Muhammad’s prophethood and superlative qualities but also of the eloquence of his message, the Qur’ān, and its captivating power to astonish people and persuade them to convert. These four conversion topoi are traceable in early historiographical narratives written under the Umayyad and ᶜAbbāsid caliphates, and provide a window to the changing historical realities occurring in the Islamic State at the time of documentation.18 Third, these four conversion topoi, with their subsequent themes, not only reflect sectarian concerns and political debates among early Muslims but also emphasize the religious and sociopolitical agendas of the historians,
generally, see Goitein, Studies, 11, 32; Rosenthal, Man versus Society, 11ff.; Rosenthal, Historiography, 114; Renard, Islamic Theological Themes. 18 The term “Islamic State” is used not only in Western scholarship but also in Arab Muslim studies, where authors describe al-dawla al-islāmiyya (Islamic State). See Sharīf, Makka wa-l-Madīna, 561; Qimanī, Ḥurūb, 2:190–191; ᶜAbd al-Karīm, Quraysh, 387. Non-Muslim scholars also use the term. See Donner, “Introduction,” in Expansion, ed. Donner, xv et passim; Donner, “Formation,” 283–296. However, Donner recently shed some doubts on the usage of the term, calling it anachronistic. See Donner, “Talking,” 1–23. See Hoyland’s recent discussion of Donner’s views, “Reflections,” 113–140.
Introduction 7 highlighting how they use literary features to advance their competing opinions. Religious and political disputes influence historiographical accounts. For example, pro-ᶜAlid historians describe the conversion of ᶜAlī differently than their pro-Umayyad counterparts. Abū Sufyān’s conversion— that of a major Umayyad figure—is presented differently in pre-ᶜAbbāsid and ᶜAbbāsid accounts.19 Reports of the conversion of the major ᶜAbbāsid figure, al-ᶜAbbās, differ in pre-ᶜAbbāsid accounts.20 Conversion themes provide a window to the competing ideologies and heated sociopolitical disputes among the pro-Umayyad, pro-ᶜAbbāsid, and pro-ᶜAlid historians during the period under study. These themes emerged during the Umayyad period but continued to develop and evolve in writings under the ᶜAbbāsid patronage.21 Finally, while the four conversion topoi carry and promote the religious inclinations and sociopolitical tendencies of the historians, their target audiences seem to differ. Topoi of significance and compromise primarily aim to address Muslims, emphasizing the quality and authenticity of conversion, while topoi of supremacy and affirmation seem to target non-Muslims in an effort to convince them of the exceptionality of Islam, its prophet, and its message. Thus, the subsequent themes of the former tend to address theological and political debates of interest among Muslims, while those of the latter provide pieces of evidence to inspire non-converts to value Islam and thus embrace it. Overall, conversion representations are strongly influenced by the historian’s worldview. The shape of literary depictions, as will be evident in this book, depends on the historian’s sectarian sympathies and his relation to the caliphal authority during the time of writing.
State of the Art My aim in this section is to review the current research on conversion in order to highlight the unique contribution of this investigation. It is my belief that this study is the first scholarly inquiry to trace, identify, and analyze 19 Sellheim, “Prophet,” 33–91; Ibrahim, Stated, ch. 3. 20 Berg, “ᶜAbbāsid,” 13–38; Watt, “al-ᶜAbbās,” in Encyclopædia of Islam, 2nd edition, ed. Bearman et al. (hereafter EI2), 1:8–9; Petersen, ᶜAlī, 88, 119; Ahmed, Religious, 13, 35, 64 n. 280, 108, 135. See also Crone, Nativist, 88. 21 See Donner, Narratives, 145, where he argues that narrators “continued to develop the material by reorganizing, recombining, or reinterpreting it, and (occasionally) by introducing completely new concerns.”
8 Conversion to Islam conversion themes in Islamic historiography during the period under scrutiny. There has been much research on conversion, but it relies largely on non-historiographical sources. In this book, I build on recent scholarly works while focusing on historiographical accounts in an effort to explore the interplay between historical phenomena and literary depictions. In recent research on conversion, scholars have focused on specific regions (Syria, Egypt, Spain, or Iran) and used a variety of documents (legal, papyri, dictionaries, geographies, and belles-lettres).22 In 1973, in “The Spread of Islam in Egypt and North Africa,” Michael Brett focused on Egypt between the ninth and fifteenth centuries. He dismissed the notion that the jizya (taxation imposed on non-Muslims) was the major contributing factor in the conversion of the Copts, arguing for a slow rate of conversion during the Muslim conquests.23 In 1979, Richard Bulliet examined genealogies of notable Iranian religious figures (until the tenth century ce). In his Conversion to Islam in the Medieval Period, he traced “waves of conversion” to determine when the bulk of the conquered people converted.24 He concluded that conversion occurred at a slow rate.25 In the same year, Nehemia Levtzion, reflecting on the defeated Iranian imperial soldiers who joined the Muslim army, agreed with Bulliet and stated, “Conversion to Islam as the immediate result of conquest or political submission (islām) was limited to a small number of cases.”26 Levtzion concluded that non-Muslim soldiers converted to Islam not only to receive 22 For a brief discussion on various scholarly theories regarding conversion to Islam, see Eaton, Rise, 113–117, where he writes of four different theories with a particular emphasis on medieval India. See also Arietta Papaconstantinou, “Introduction,” in Conversion, ed. Papaconstantinou et al., xv–xxiv. For a Muslim perspective regarding non-Muslim theories on the spread of Islam, see Köse, “Assessment,” 65–89. 23 See Brett, “Spread,” where he concludes that the majority of North Africa’s people converted by the ninth century. It should be noted that Brett follows Daniel Dennett’s arguments of two decades earlier. See Dennett, Conversion, 3–12, 62ff. (on Egypt). Note that Dennett’s concern was not conversion, but taxation. His work first appeared in 1950 and was republished in 2013. On Brett’s and Dennett’s arguments, see Morony, “Age,” 135ff. 24 Bulliet, Conversion, 4, 19, 74, 109, et passim. See also Bulliet, “Conversion-Based Patronage,” 246–262. Bulliet believes that early Islamic historiography is not useful to uncover aspects of conversion, as it includes only a “slight treatment” of the topic. Bulliet, “Conversion Stories,” 125. His view concerning the “written sources” is shared by Jacob Lassner. See Lassner, Medieval, 152 n. 2, where he calls Bulliet’s quantitative research a “heroic effort” yet concludes, “no clear picture of conversion to Islam has emerged, especially for the early period.” Christian Sahner, who relies on historiographical and hagiographical sources, reaches similar conclusions regarding the slow conversion in early Islam. See Sahner, Christian, 224. 25 Bulliet, Conversion, 109, where he argues that the period 150/767–300/912 witnessed the conversion of the “bulk” of the population in the conquered lands, and the “great wave of conversion” took place in the late eighth and ninth centuries; for example, Syria became majority Muslim around the year 275/888. 26 Levtzion, “Toward,” in Conversion, ed. Levtzion, 6.
Introduction 9 a high stipend but also to avoid the poll tax and the humiliating status of losing their position as soldiers.27 In 1991, Gladys Frantz-Murphy, in her “Conversion in Early Islamic Egypt,” focused on Egypt, relied on Greek, Coptic, and Arabic papyri, and studied the economic incentive as a factor for conversion. She contended that “fiscal policy was perhaps an impetus to conversion.”28 In 1988, Jessica Coope moved the discussion to Spain. Relying on earlier studies by Kenneth Baxter Wolf,29 she focused on al-Andalus in the ninth century and analyzed cases of conversion among Christians and Muslims. She examined how Muslims discouraged the conversion of Christians to Islam in order to prevent Christians from gaining positions in caliphal government, as well as the so-called voluntary martyrs’ movement, whose adherents not only rejected conversion but also sought suicide (or martyrdom) by insulting Muhammad and Islam.30 Coope’s emphasis on Christian martyrdom was echoed recently in an important study by Christian Sahner, Christian Martyrs under Islam. He studied the transformation of the medieval Middle East from a majority-Christian world to a majority-Muslim world, and focused on the role of violence in this process. While Coope examined the phenomenon in ninth-century Spain, Sahner investigated martyrdom cases between the seventh and ninth centuries ce, in various places, including Syria, Egypt, and Armenia. He highlighted episodes of violence against Christians, which led to their conversion; however, he dismissed the notion of a systematic persecution against Christians under the early Muslim caliphs. Like other scholars, Sahner concluded that Christians converted to Islam slowly, and some preferred martyrdom over conversion.31 As a point of
27 See Levtzion, “Toward,” in Conversion, ed. Levtzion, 9–13, as he writes, “Conversion was greatly advanced by political and military predominance of the Muslims” (11). Uriel Simonsohn takes the discussion to social contexts founded on confessional affiliation and argues that conversion to Islam provided converts a chance for “improving their personal status.” Simonsohn, “Conversion,” 196–216. 28 Frantz-Murphy, “Conversion.” 29 Wolf, Christian Martyrs, 5–20; Wolf, “Christian Martyrs.” 30 See Coope, “Muslim-Christian Relations”; Coope, “Religious,” 47–68; Coope, Martyrs. See also her recent study, The Most Noble of People (2017), where she studies religious, ethnic, and gender identity in Muslim Spain under the Umayyads (from 756 to 1031), and her reflections on conversion (20ff. and 38ff.). On the voluntary martyrs’ movement, see Sahner, Christian, 141ff.; Christys, Christians, 52ff.; Wood, “Persecution,” 41–60; Waltz, “Significance,” 143–159; Duque, “Claiming,” 23–48. 31 See Sahner, Christian, 1–28, 78, 95, 224, 241ff. The book appeared in 2018 and is built on his 2015 Princeton University dissertation, titled “Christian Martyrs and the Making of an Islamic Society.” See also Sahner, “Swimming,” 265–284, where he studies examples of Muslim conversion (or reversion) to Christianity in hagiographical sources in Arabic, Armenian, Georgian, Greek, and Latin, during the Umayyad and early ᶜAbbāsid caliphates.
10 Conversion to Islam comparison, one should note that Sahner relied on a different set of sources than those examined by Bulliet, yet both reached a similar conclusion: The process of conversion to Islam was rather slow during the first three centuries of Islam. However, Bulliet emphasized that the process of conversion was not uniformly slow; it followed an S-curve pattern, from slow to fast, before returning back to slow. While Bulliet focused on biographical dictionaries of notable Iranian religious figures, Sahner examined hagiographical and historiographical sources in a range of Middle Eastern languages.32 In 2005, Tamer el- Leithy, in his dissertation “Coptic Culture and Conversion in Medieval Cairo,” returned the discussion to Egypt. By focusing on the early eighth/fourteenth century, el-Leithy focused on Mamlūk historical writing and Coptic legal and religious manuscripts. He investigated the social and cultural transformation within the world of Coptic converts.33 He studied how unprecedented pressures affected the Copts’ conversion to Islam, and argued that there was a common culture of conversion and reversion during the Mamlūk rule, as many converts seem to have had doubts about their conversion. He concluded that religious conversion was highly individual, as, in one family, there were converts and non-converts.34 In 2008, Arietta Papaconstantinou attempted “to dissociate the early years of the Islamic empire from the classical and modern views,” which tend to emphasize community divisions around religious confessions.35 She argued that the divisions between the “religious communities” were less distinct, as they operated “very much as social groups or micro-societies, i.e. they knew internal divisions and tensions, and were not homogeneous faith communities.”36 A few years later, Papaconstantinou edited a volume with Neil McLynn and Daniel Schwartz, Conversion in Late Antiquity, in which she continued her arguments on conversion. In her excellent and lengthy introduction, Papaconstantinou dismissed earlier interpretations of conversion 32 See Bulliet, Conversion, 4, 19, 74, 109; Sahner, Christian, 224, 241ff. 33 El-Leithy, “Coptic.” For a helpful review of el-Leithy’s conclusions, see Werthmuller, Coptic, 78. El-Leithy argues, “While conversion protected lives and jobs, it did not guarantee immunity: many converts fell prey to the hostile suspicions of their new co-religionists, provoking further regulation and Muslim anxieties of influence. Conversion rendered Copts socially marginal, but concomitantly culturally central” (iii). 34 See el-Leithy, “Coptic,” 101–175, 457ff. 35 See Papaconstantinou, “Between,” 128, where she also writes, “although the visible definition of the groups was religious, their composition could at least partly be dictated by other factors that also have group-creating power so to speak, in particular status, kinship, ethnicity and territoriality” (132). 36 Papaconstantinou, “Between,” 128; see also Borrut and Donner, “Introduction,” in Christians, ed. Borrut and Donner, 1.
Introduction 11 which explained it as a radical transformation of mind, heart, and conscience. For her, this interpretation treated conversion mainly from a Christian lens, and “one of the initial aims of this project was precisely to find a way to de- exceptionalize Christianity as the exemplar and the yardstick against which every religious conversion is measured.”37 She argued that conversion is a multifaceted and mostly ambiguous phenomenon, “a process of religious change where social environment and cultural habits play an important role,” and that it should not be viewed as “an interiorized, voluntary, individual decision based on faith and dogmatic conviction.”38 In 2010, Jack Tannous built on Papaconstantinou’s arguments by shifting the discussion to the social and cultural history of Syria in the late Antique and early medieval periods. He explored Christian-Muslim interaction and religious conversion, and argued for viewing Islam “as a minority religion taking shape among a majority population adhering to highly-sophisticated and more ancient rival confessions.”39 The arguments of Papaconstantinou and Tannous suggest that the divisions between religious communities in the early Islamic Middle East were less distinct than long assumed. Religious conversion is more complex than simply a religious turning point or a sharp variation in the convert’s life. It is better viewed as a process, in which religious affiliation operates within social and cultural spheres with all of their ambiguity and complexity. In 2013, Uriel Simonsohn, in his “Conversion to Islam,” distanced himself from the historiographical narratives—viewing them as “colored by a host of religious, political, and disciplinary agendas”—and focused on legal sources, as he traced both conversion to and reversion from Islam.40 He highlighted 37 See Papaconstantinou, “Introduction,” in Conversion, ed. Papaconstantinou et al., xxii, also xix, xv, xvii. The chapters in this volume were essentially papers presented at a Mellon-Sawyer Seminar held at the University of Oxford in 2009–2010. The book itself was published in 2015. 38 Papaconstantinou, “Introduction,” in Conversion, xix, xv. In her introduction, Papaconstantinou was particularly challenging the views of Arthur Darby Nock’s Conversion, whose arguments we will discuss shortly. 39 Tannous, “Syria.” Recently, Tannous published parts of his 2010 dissertation as a book, The Making of the Medieval Middle East: Religion, Society, and Simple Believers. 40 Simonsohn, “Conversion to Islam,” 652, where he argues that legal sources, though neglected by historians, are remarkably useful. Jacob Lassner is also interested in legal sources, though to a lesser extent. He combines them with literary texts from the Middle Ages and studies that which medieval Muslims meant when they described tolerance toward Christians and Jews. See Lassner, Jews, 241. Lassner defends Orientalist scholarship on Islam and argues that in the House of Islam, where Muslims were the majority, they appear to have tolerated other religions, although they often held negative opinions of ahl al-dhimma (Dhimmis), i.e., Jews and Christian. See the critical observations on Lassner’s work by Yousef Meri, “Review,” 1141–1143. For a recent study on Muslims converting (or reverting) to Christianity under the Umayyads and ᶜAbbāsids, see Sahner, “Swimming,” 265–284; also Tannous, Making, 332ff.
12 Conversion to Islam how our historical narratives “portray a social setting that was carved along religious lines,” in which “coreligionists conducted their affairs almost autonomously with minimal interaction with their external religious environment.”41 In disagreement, he argued for a “fluidity and changeability of religious and social bonds,” and called for “viewing religious communities as just one hinge among many around which pivoted social commitments.”42 In the same year, Sarah Savant focused on Iran in her study The New Muslims of Post-Conquest Iran. Using religious and non-religious texts (biographical dictionaries, geographies, belles-lettres), she examined the interplay of history and memory in portraying conversion to Islam in post-conquest Iran. She addressed religious loyalty and belonging “from the twin angles of tradition and memory,” as she traced revisions and elisions to the collective memory of the new Iranian Muslims.43 In 2016, Yaniv Fox and Yosi Yisraeli edited a volume titled Contesting Inter-Religious Conversion in the Medieval World. It covered a vast period of time (from the seventh to seventeenth century) and examined inter-religious conversion, with a particular emphasis on “communities of minorities,” including Christians in Muslim lands and Muslims in Christian lands. Overall, the volume argued that “inter-religious conversion was a process that was recognizable and comparable throughout its geographical and chronological purview.”44 In 2018, Jessica Sylvan Mutter relied on legal and historiographical sources, in Arabic and Syriac, and investigated conversion among Muslims and Christians in early Islamic Bilād al-Shām (Greater Syria) and al- Jazīra (Northern Iraq). She attempted to understand how conversion was described—and how its meaning developed—by authors of these lands in the period 19/640–235/850. She concluded that “writing on conversion among Christian and Muslim scholars increased in sophistication and polemical focus as conversion to and from Islam increased.”45 She argued 41 Simonsohn, “Conversion to Islam,”649. 42 Simonsohn, “Conversion to Islam,” 649, where he also stresses “the need to view Near Eastern societies in complex terms that do not necessarily correspond to the tidy formal image to which religious leaders prescribed” (654). For more on the fluidity and complexity of religious and social spheres, see Fredrik Barth, “Introduction,” in Ethnic, ed. Barth, 9–38; Payne, “Christianity,” ch. 1, where he argues that the “peculiar religious landscape, social structure, political culture, and geography of the late antique Iranian empire imposed challenges on the elites and sub-elites of the empire, challenges Christian religious professionals often sought to meet.” 43 Savant, New Muslims, 1–30. Savant builds on various theories, including Jan Assmann’s “mnemohistory” and Maurice Halbwachs’s “collective memory,” which will be explored shortly. 44 Fox and Yisraeli, Contesting. 45 See Mutter, “By the Book,” ch. 1.
Introduction 13 that, in response to the increased number of conversions, religious elites “constructed social and theological boundaries, bolstered by the development of law and ritual around conversion, delineating their respective religious communities.” For Mutter, conversion, as a term, “is found to be largely inapplicable to Muslim and Christian writers’ understanding of religious change in the seventh-century Islamic context, and somewhat more applicable to such events in the eighth and early ninth centuries, though still not perfectly so.”46 Finally, modern scholarship includes various studies which focus on the meaning of religious conversion. In the case of conversion to Islam, classical Muslim narratives tend to portray it as a religious turning point of religious affiliation, while non-Muslim scholars, especially in recent years in Western circles, argue that embracing Islam may mean different things and may have occurred in many ways; thus, they prefer to speak of a process of conversion.47 These scholars attempt to explain the complexity of conversion while including non-religious explanations.48 For most of the twentieth century, scholars adopted conventional interpretations of conversion, treating it as merely a sharp change in religious affiliation. In 1902, William James wrote of conversion as a “process” rather than a turning point, although he did not reject the notion of a more or less radical religious change. He focused primarily on the physiological aspect of conversion, using terms like “transformation,” “born twice,” and “regenerated” to describe it.49 In 1933, being aware of the cultural and social sensitivity of conversion, Arthur Nock distinguished between “adhesion” and “conversion,” the former indicating cultural and social collective change within a specific people group, and the latter conveying a change in consciousness.50 Still, for 46 Mutter, “By the Book,” the quotes are from her abstract. 47 For a recent discussion, see Szpiech, Conversion, 9–27. 48 Rambo, Understanding, 7. See also Rambo and Farhadian, “Conversion and Global Transformation,” in Oxford Handbook, ed. Rambo and Farhadian, 2–4, where they write on religious conversion as “a complex topic.” Although Rambo studies several stages within the conversion experience, Papaconstantinou is unconvinced of his “very flexible framework” and describes it as “also rooted within the Christian missionary tradition and ultimately aim[ing] to make the practice of the ‘advocate’ efficient.” Papaconstantinou, “Introduction,” in Conversion, xxi. 49 See James, Varieties, 121, 150, 68. See Szpiech’s analysis of James’s arguments in his Conversion, 14ff. William James published his study in 1902, and many consider him the father of modern scholarship on conversion. For a critique of James’s work, see Antonello Palumbo, “From Constantine the Great to Emperor Wu of the Liang,” in Conversion, ed. Papaconstantinou et al., 118. For a critique of the emphasis on the psychological notion in conversion, see Sharf, “The Rhetoric of Experience and the Study of Religion,” 267–287. 50 Nock, Conversion, 7, where he places “adhesion, in contradistinction to conversion.” See the analysis of Nock’s arguments in Rambo and Farhadian, “Conversion,” in Oxford Handbook, ed. Rambo and Farhadian, 5ff. If we follow Nock’s arguments, then the Muslim narratives of collective
14 Conversion to Islam several modern scholars, James and Nock maintained conventional views of conversion, describing it mostly as a sharp inflection of religious affiliation.51 Recent studies tackle social, cultural, and even political questions regarding conversion. In 1965, John Lofland and Rodney Stark, in their sociological examination of the Unification Church, examined “the conditions under which conversion occurs,” and argued that the convert is an active agent in a slow and long conversion process.52 Considering the social element in the complex process of conversion, Peter Berger viewed conversion as a change within the social norms of the convert, which is evidenced not only in conversion but also in the possible reconversion (reversion) within one’s social context.53 In 1994, Devin DeWeese published an important study of conversion to Islam as a process woven within indigenous religious values in Inner Asia. He highlighted the psychological and social complexities of the conversion process and argued, “ ‘Conversion’ is inevitably a process of such considerable psychological and social complexity that even a thorough reconstruction of the historical setting and events that occurred, and even a precise description of ‘what happened’ could not convey the significance of the conversion understood and felt, religiously, by the adherents of the new faith and their communal heirs.”54 DeWeese’s statement reflects a growing realization within modern scholarship of the multifaceted nature and the various compound layers of the conversion process. Conversion cannot be viewed any
conversion should be viewed as “adhesion” rather than conversion. Similarly, Marc Baer argues that “conversion has an internal component entailing belief and an external component involving behavior, leading to the creation of a new self-identity and new way of life.” Baer, Honored, 13. For earlier and less sophisticated studies on conversion, see, for instance, the 1913 work by Arnold, The Preaching of Islam, vii, where he studies conversion to Islam, for the most part relying on thematic historical analysis. 51 See Papaconstantinou, “Introduction,” in Conversion, xv–xxxvii. 52 Lofland and Stark, “Becoming,” 862. Rambo and Farhadian write that recent scholarship on conversion tends to “view the majority of conversions as taking place gradually over a period of time and as less dramatic and radical.” Rambo and Farhadian, “Conversion,” in Oxford Handbook, ed. Rambo and Farhadian, 5–6. 53 Berger, Sacred, 51, where he examines the sociological foundations of religion and argues, “The individual who wishes to convert, and (more importantly) to ‘stay converted,’ must engineer his social life in accordance with this purpose.” 54 DeWeese, Islamization, 10. In the same vein, Hilary Kilpatrick studies early Islamic belles- lettres and demonstrates how social measures, familial requirements, and even professional bonds outweighed religious commitments in ninth-century Iraq. See Kilpatrick, “Representations of Social Intercourse between Muslims and Non-Muslims in Some Medieval Adab Works,” in Muslim, ed. Waardenburg, 213ff.
Introduction 15 longer as a radical shift in religious belief. In 2008, Marc David Baer, examining conversion in Ottoman Europe, argued that conversion “is a decision or experience followed by a gradually unfolding, dynamic process through which an individual embarks on religious transformation.”55 In 2012, Ragnhild Zorgati studied the “communal component” within conversion, as she focused on the pluralistic societies of the Middle Ages. She examined how people—within religious and cultural diversity—explored the borderland between religious identities, and argued, “Conversion and apostasy are therefore not only personal acts which involve the believer and his or her God; they are also actions with an important communal component.”56 In 2013, Ryan Szpiech analyzed a wide body of sources from Christian, Jewish, and Muslim polemics and examined the place of narrative in the representation of conversion, while distinguishing between the stories told about conversion and the religious experience itself.57 He viewed conversion narratives as tools which serve the needs of religious apologetics and polemics. He concluded that conversion can mean many things, and using the term incautiously—even with qualifications—can result in imprecise meanings.58 This survey of modern scholarship on conversion indicates that academics are slowly distancing themselves from treating conversion as merely a sharp change in religious loyalty in the convert’s life. Conversion 55 Baer, Honored, 13. See also Szpiech, Conversion, 16. One should note that Papaconstantinou’s 2015 coedited volume, Conversion in Late Antiquity, though critical of the views of various modern scholars on conversion (e.g., Arthur D. Nock and Lewis Rambo), nowhere mentions the recent nuanced views of Devin DeWeese and Marc David Baer on conversion. 56 Zorgati, Pluralism, 24, where she also argues that conversion is “not only of the person moving, but also of the entities through which the person moves.” 57 See Szpiech, Conversion, 16, where he describes why the religious “change” could be interpreted as conversion by some and apostasy by others. Szpiech builds on the earlier study of Karl Morrison, in which Morrison studies medieval conversion and distinguishes between the “thing felt” and the “thing made,” i.e., the conversion experience and its written document. See Morrison, Understanding, xii, where he argues “that the experience of conversion is quite different from what is called conversion in texts.” While Ryan Szpiech utilizes these two terms to explain his approach in writing his book, he criticizes Morrison’s usage, affirming that such insistence results in viewing conversion as “a metaphor.” See Szpiech, Conversion, 17, where he observes, “Morrison’s attention to the text itself rather than the reality it claims to depict assumes an original, albeit inaccessible priority of the ‘thing felt’ over the ‘thing made’ ” (17). 58 Szpiech, Conversion, 16–17, where he argues, “it is impossible to use the term conversion meaningfully without further qualification, and even with such qualification one must grant that any use of the term itself is imprecise and can refer only very loosely to a range of possible meanings, all of which are never present together. Conversion is a collective representation that can be used for convenience but whose full range of significance is perpetually deferred and never definitively grasped.” It should be noted that Ryan Szpiech examines how textual authority is constructed in polemical texts. For a broader discussion, see his “From testimonia to Testimony.”
16 Conversion to Islam is now being viewed as a complex process, fluid and ambiguous. The religious aspect is one layer within multifaceted social and cultural spheres. Furthermore, this survey suggests that modern scholarship on conversion, though relatively rich in analyses and ample in number, has grown to regard historiography with suspicion. The majority of scholars rely on non-historiographical sources. In the case of Islam, can Muslim historiography reveal anything about conversion? Can the historiography of conversion help in any way? It is precisely in this aspect that this book’s main contribution appears.
Distinctive Contribution of This Study The main contribution of this investigation lies in its tracing of conversion to Islam through early Islamic historiography. As the previous survey of precedent literature highlights, recent research on conversion has focused on specific regions (including Syria, Egypt, Spain, and Iran) and has referenced a variety of documents (legal, papyri, dictionaries, geographies, or belles- lettres). While there has been much work on conversion, it mostly relied on non-historiographical sources, as some scholars dismissed historiographical sources as irrelevant.59 I disagree, and argue that historiography is essential to the study of conversion. The extant sources reveal not only how early Muslim depictions differ, but also how the notion of conversion itself developed over time. One can glean that, in early Islam, conversion meant different things and occurred in various ways. We can investigate how the topic was the focus of sectarian debates and sociopolitical disputes among Muslims from the beginning. We can also explain how Muslim historians shaped conversion narratives to serve their religious preferences and to advance their political opinions. While classical Muslim historians appear to have relied on a shared pool of memory,60 they used it selectively to narrativize their 59 See Bulliet, “Conversion Stories,” 123; Simonsohn, “Conversion to Islam,” 652. Bulliet and Simonsohn, like many other scholars, have less confidence in Islamic historiography and that which it can provide to our understanding of conversion to Islam. While I share some of their skepticism toward the sources, I believe there is a significant opportunity before us in the extant historical accounts. 60 Savant, New Muslims, 13. Noth/C onrad, Early Arabic, 17, where they trace “comparable material” between traditions from Medina and Kūfa, concluding, “no single one of the collections can be considered as a self contained unit.” See also Borrut, Entre, 35, as he refers to a common core of information; also Robinson, “Conquest,” 38; Mourad, “On Early,” 588. Savant studies the role of memory and the way it is revised or even erased, and writes, “As a tradition accumulates
Introduction 17 accounts.61 We can trace their manipulation of specific conversion records by contrasting the depictions of rival historians (e.g., pro-Umayyad and pro- ᶜAbbāsid).62 I argue that there is a significant opportunity in our extensive collection of early Islamic sources, and, like Sarah Savant, “I prefer, then, the risk of overstating the plasticity of our sources for the benefit of querying them.”63 My study extends beyond specific regions and geographical locations. Unlike Brett, Frantz-Murphy, and el-Leithy, who focused on Egypt, Bulliet and Savant on Iran, Wolf and Coope on al-Andalus, and Tannous on Syria, my examination surveys a host of Muslim historians who lived and traveled throughout the Islamic State during the first three centuries of Islam. This provides a wider examination of conversion representations, presenting an opportunity to discern the extent to which this important topic was
weight and authority, it shapes collective agreements about the past, thereby creating memories” (New Muslims, 4). On the interdependency between memory and written reports (literacy), see the classic study of Mary Carruthers, The Book of Memory, where she focuses on European cultures during the Middle Ages and examines the training, usage, and formation of memory. Donner rejects the terms “communal memory” and “collective memory” and suggests instead “collective images” or “collective visions” of the past, calling it history. Donner, Narratives, 139. On the relationship between history and memory, see Spiegel, “Memory,” 149–162; Savant, New Muslims, ch. 1; Borrut, Entre, ch. 1; Hutton, History, 1–22; Halbwachs, On Collective; Fentress and Wickham, Social; Innes, “Memory.” See also the recent study of Steinbock, Social Memory, where he analyzes the uses and meanings of the past in fourth-century Athens and argues that the shared, idealized, and distorted memories of the past should not be viewed as an unreliable counterpart of history, but as a valuable key to understanding a community’s mentality and worldview. 61 The German Egyptologist Jan Assmann studies how Moses is remembered in European history in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries and views memory as a branch or sub-discipline of history, arguing that the “past is not simply ‘received’ by the present. The present is ‘haunted’ by the past and the past is modeled, invented, reinvented, and reconstructed by the present.” Assmann, Moses, 9. See Savant, New Muslims, 17, as she comments on Assmann’s arguments on memory. See also Assmann, Cultural, 55, where he argues that memory (and thus forgetting) is socially and culturally shaped, emphasizing the existence of an “alliance between power and forgetting” of cultural memory. For narratives as translating “knowing into telling,” see White, “Value,” 5. For definitions of narrative, see Gerald Prince, “Surveying Narratology,” in What Is Narratology?, ed. Kindt and Müller, 3; Abbott, Cambridge Introduction, 19. For the link between history and narrative, see Genette, Narrative, 25–31, where “histoire” refers to “what really happened,” and “récit” is a narrative representing fiction or actual events. See also Sizgorich, “Narrative,” 9–11; also Sizgorich, Violence, 147, where he writes that historical narratives “are best understood as hybrid texts composed in part of semiotic elements held in common among a spectrum of late antique monotheistic faith communities.” 62 On historians’ selectivity and manipulation of records, see Savant, New Muslims, 13; also Petersen, ᶜAlī, 17, 19, 20, where he states, “The traditionist never relinquishes his right to personal political or religious commitment to the subject he deals with” (17). He concludes, “The formation of the historical tradition consists above all in reflections of the political and religious conflicts of its own age” (50). 63 Savant, New Muslims, 14.
18 Conversion to Islam perceived, depicted, and interpreted by early Muslims over a wide geographical area. This study, moreover, offers a window to determine what may have caused the perspectives of certain Muslims to become more valuable than other interpretations and, thus, to appear repeatedly throughout historiographical records. Furthermore, while Bulliet focused on biographical dictionaries, Frantz- Murphy on papyri, el-Leithy on Mamlūk historical writing, Simonsohn on legal sources, and Savant on biographical dictionaries, geographies, and belles-lettres, my investigation focuses on the earliest historiographical accounts, which are often overlooked. As far as I can discern, no other scholarly investigation traces conversion themes in historiographical accounts and identifies how historical depictions are influenced by the religious and sociopolitical agendas of their historians. I employ a comparative method to cut through Arabic historiographical accounts, tracing factors which could have influenced conversion depictions.64 I examine how sectarian and political preferences (e.g., pro-ᶜAlid, pro-Umayyad, pro-ᶜAbbāsid) affected literary choices. In my estimation, the importance of this study is four-fold. First, it analyzes each indication of conversion in Muslim historiographical accounts from the first three centuries of Islam, identifying themes of conversion. Second, it examines the influence of a variety of factors (e.g., chronological, geographical, political, and religious) on the description of conversion, exploring the interplay between history and historiography.65 Third, this study builds on recent scholarly studies but transcends specific regions and addresses the reported phenomenon of conversion throughout the Islamic world during the first three centuries of Islamic rule. Finally, while I acknowledge the limitations of historiographical reports, I treat them as means for articulating agendas and as reflections of prevailing moods and ideas. I examine their Sitz im Leben and literary distinctiveness, investigating the longue durée process which occurred at the backdrop of a developing historiographical narrative.
64 See Spiegel, “Revising,” 1–19, where she explores “the various forces that may help to explain the ongoing historiographical phenomenon of revision.” 65 I follow the method of Robinson, Empire, viii, where he chooses “to marry history and historiography,” which allows him to acknowledge simultaneously the problematic nature of the extant Muslim sources as well as the historians’ explicit goals in their disposition. I also benefited from the general observations of Spiegel, “Task,” 1–15, especially p. 4, where she discusses the historian’s task; also Spiegel, “Political,” 314–325, as she discusses the political utility of medieval historiography, particularly how chroniclers used the past to explain and legitimize politics.
Introduction 19 I hope my study will inspire further insights on the process of conversion to Islam and its perceptions over time.
Scope and Demarcations of the Study To specify the scope of this study, a few points of demarcation are necessary. In this book, my focus is on tracing conversion themes in Muslim historiographical accounts only during the first three centuries of Islam (until ca. 299/911). In this study, historiographical works are those precisely devoted to “writing about the past.”66 While historical reports may appear en passant in non-historiographical works (e.g., tafsīr, ḥadīth, fiqh, etc.), I limit my investigation to the historiographical sources, including maghāzī, sīra, futūḥ, ta’rīkh, and ṭabaqāt. I am convinced that historiographical sources not only offer an abundance of material, but they also include the scarce accounts found in other non-historical works. In my analysis, I divide the ᶜAbbāsid period under study (ca. 133/750–299/911) into two parts around the crucial year 218/833, in which al-Ma’mūn (r. 198/813–218/833) enforced the miḥna (inquisition). By “early ᶜAbbāsid period,” I mean pre-miḥna.67 I cover the pre-miḥna period in Chapter 3 and address the post-miḥna period in Chapter 4. Regarding historical reports, I am convinced that Muslim sources describe what their authors believed, thought, or wanted to convey, rather than what actually occurred; they are a representation, rather than a record, of the past.68 The recording of Muslim history—which was accomplished by religious Muslim historians—in historiographical works produced tendentious presentations.69 My skepticism toward the sources’ reliability and historicity is shared by many modern scholars, as will be explained in the following section.
66 Rosenthal, Historiography, 10; Robinson, Historiography, xvi. 67 Zaman, Religion, 1; al-Dūrī, al-ᶜAṣr al-ᶜabbāsī al-awwal, 173–174, where he places al-Ma’mūn’s reign as the end of the early ᶜAbbāsid period. 68 Robinson, Empire, ch. 1. 69 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 11–20, especially 18–19, where he argues that, for instance, the real ᶜAlī is different from the legendary ᶜAlī. Tarif Khalidi traces how Muslim writers constructed and reconstructed Muhammad’s sīra in order to serve different purposes, by depicting him in various ways, including a hero, model mystic, liberator, and canonical prophet, among others. See Khalidi, Images, 151–280. Similarly, yet with an emphasis on modern Western scholarship, John Tolan recently published Faces of Muhammad: Western Perceptions of the Prophet of Islam from the Middle Ages to Today, in which he examines the various and contradicting depictions of Muhammad through the Reformation and up to the present day.
20 Conversion to Islam
Skepticism toward the Sources Conversion to Islam, as a literary topic, appears extensively in early Islamic sources, both historiographical (e.g., maghāzī, sīra, ta’rīkh, futūḥ, ṭabaqāt) and non-historiographical (e.g., tafsīr, adab, ḥadīth, ᶜulūm al-Qur’ān, fiqh, maᶜājim, masālik al-buldān).70 I will focus on the former. In this book, a historiographical work is one that is primarily concerned with narrating and describing past events. I am aware that historical reports may appear en passant in non-historiographical works, but due to the abundance of material, I will limit my investigation to the former. In defining history and historiography, I follow Rosenthal’s definition of the term “history” as referring “both to the process of historical development and to the description of that process,” and Robinson’s assertion that historiography (ta’rīkh) only “means one thing: writing about the past.”71 The study of Islamic historiography can be roughly divided into two opposing camps: revisionists (or skeptics) and traditionalists (or sanguine, positivists, or anti-revisionists).72 These two camps are not strictly monolithic, as the arguments and conclusions within each camp may still vary. The division between the two camps stems principally from their approaches to the sources and their apparent literary problems; for example, “Chronological 70 For references on conversion in non-historiographical sources, see Muqātil, Tafsīr, 1:53, 1:72, 1:162, 1:300ff. (conversion of Jews and Christians); 1:251ff. (conversion among the Meccan pagans); 2:43 (collective conversion of Najd), also 3:234, 3:350; 2:281 (tribal collective conversion). 71 Rosenthal, Historiography, 10; Robinson, Historiography, xvi; also Spiegel, “History,” 59–86. For more on history and historiography, see two important Arabic studies: al-Dūrī, Baḥth fī nash’at ᶜilm al-ta’rīkh ᶜind al-ᶜArab (Beirut 1960), which was translated as The Rise of Historical Writing among the Arabs by Conrad in 1983; Muṣṭafā, al-Ta’rīkh al-ᶜarabī wa-l-mu’arrikhūn (3rd ed. 1983). See also the valuable Western studies, Petersen, ᶜAlī and Muᶜāwiya (1964); Humphreys, Islamic History (1991); Khalidi, Arabic Historical Thought (1994); Donner, Narratives of Islamic Origins (1998); Robinson, “The Study of Islamic Historiography: A Progress Report” (1997). 72 See the discussion of the two scholarly approaches in Ibrahim, Stated, ch. 2. See also Berg, “Competing,” in Method, ed. Berg, 259–261, where he focuses on methods and approaches regarding the ḥadīth tradition. For these approaches to historiographical accounts, see Donner, “Introduction,” in The Expansion, ed. Donner, xxvii–xxxi; Donner, Narratives, 5ff.; Kennedy, Prophet, 347ff.; Hoyland, God’s Path, 231ff. The revisionist approach is indebted to John Wansbrough, who is considered “one of the most prominent ‘revisionists’ or ‘skeptics.’ ” See Berg, “Preface,” in Method, ed. Berg, x; Berg, “Implications,” 3–22. See Wansbrough’s main works, Qur’ānic Studies and Sectarian Milieu, especially Andrew Rippin’s excellent remarks in the introduction to the expanded edition of the former (published in 2004). Donner points out that Wansbrough argued the traditional accounts of the sīra “do not represent an independent body of information that might be used to understand the text of the Qur’ān, but rather were fabricated precisely to explain various verses of the Qur’ān.” Donner, “Historical Context,” in Cambridge Companion, ed. McAuliffe, 33. For an example of the sanguine (traditionalist) approach, see Schoeler, “Foundations,” in Method, ed. Berg, 22; also the debate between Stephen Shoemaker (skeptical approach) on the one hand, and Gregor Schoeler, Harald Motzki, and Andreas Görke on the other. Görke et al., “First,” 2–59; Shoemaker, “In Search,” 257–344.
Introduction 21 discrepancies and obscurities abound, as do flat contradictions in the meaning of events or even, less frequently, on their fundamental course.”73 Revisionists commonly distrust the reliability of the sources, while traditionalists—although critical of the sources, as any scholar should be— view it sanguinely and commonly argue that a “kernel” of reliable material remains. Some sanguine scholars describe this “kernel” as “a core of genuine collective memory.”74 They acknowledge the sources’ internal and external problems, yet believe that, through diligent analysis, one can reconstruct the historical events.75 For the sanguine scholars, “despite the fact that there is virtually no extant written material from the first two centuries of Islam, the later collections of the third and fourth centuries contain an accurate record of the past.”76 For revisionists, the sanguine position is unwarranted because of the source problems. Patricia Crone, a prominent skeptical scholar, argues that whether “one approaches Islamic historiography from the angle of the religious or the tribal tradition, its overall character thus remains the same: the bulk of it is debris of an obliterated past.”77 73 Donner, Narratives, 4–5. On how the two approaches deal differently with the textual problems of the sources, see Humphreys, Islamic History, 69–91; Donner, Narratives, 112–122, 203–208; Robinson, Historiography, 8–17; Robinson, “Study,” 209. Tunisian scholar Nājiya al-Wurayyimī traces the contradictions in the details of important events as advanced by classical Muslim writers. She compares accounts of the sīra and early tafsīr and demonstrates the contradicting literary features and conclusions provided by the authors. Al-Wurayyimī, Fī al-I’tilāf, 35ff. 74 See Lapidus, History, 24, where he adopts a positive approach to Muslim historiography and criticizes “the radical skeptical approach,” claiming it “is based on a misunderstanding of the transmission of knowledge in late antiquity and the early Islamic era” (23). Lapidus concludes that “the rich, vivid, and extensive materials in the early Arab-Muslim histories were not invented in a later period. Although the Arabic literary tradition was indeed shaped by the later eras in which it was compiled and edited, it embodies an historical recollection of the Arabian milieu and of Muhammad that preserves a core of genuine collective memory” (24). In response to the traditionalists’ argument, Rippin skeptically questions, “the real problem here is that even if one admits the existence of such a ‘kernel’ of history, is it ever possible to identify and extract that information?” Rippin, “Literary Analysis,” in Approaches, ed. Martin, 156; also Rippin, “Function,” 1–20. 75 A recent important work represents the sanguine approach: Tilman Nagel, Mohammed: Leben und Legende. Nagel argues for historically reliable material in Muslim historiography. He believes that the establishment of an organized religion by the end of the Umayyad Caliphate resulted in a twisted image of the historical Muhammad and forged a legendary character (ch. 8). For Nagel, the historical Muhammad sought nothing more than establishing his clan’s dominion over the local Meccan worship (178ff.). Nagel openly criticizes Wansbrough’s skepticism of the sources in the afterword. See also Nagel’s other work, Allahs Liebling: Ursprung und Erscheinungsformen des Mohammedglauben, especially the introductory part (15–133), where he continues his distinction between a historical Muhammad and what he describes as an “imagined” and “above-historical” one (also in ch. 2). It is clear that Nagel believes that the events described in Muslim accounts actually occurred, although he concedes that the memory of the Muslims had shaped their documentation against the backdrop of later cultural and social contexts. 76 See Herbert Berg, “Competing Paradigms,” in Method, ed. Berg, 259; Berg, Development, ch. 1. 77 Crone, Slaves, 10. See also Crone, Meccan, 230, where she argues, “The entire tradition is tendentious, its aim being the elaboration of an Arabian Heilgeschichte, and this tendentiousness has shaped the facts as we have them, not merely added some partisan statements we can deduct.” Another example of Crone’s skeptical orientation toward the traditional accounts of Islamic origins is her “How
22 Conversion to Islam My approach to historiography can be explained in three major points. First, Islamic historiography represents the time of writing more than the period it allegedly describes. As I am aware of both the source problems and the traditionalist-revisionist debate, I am convinced that the sources record not what actually happened, but instead what the medieval historians, at best, believed to have taken place or, at worst, desired their audience to believe about the era they described.78 Robinson rightly argues that our sources provide a “representation rather than record,” as the historians were authors “who wrote well after the events they describe.”79 Second, I am convinced that Islamic historiography represents not only accounts of the past, but also—and perhaps more so—the political, religious, and social contexts and realities of its historians. Ibn Shihāb al-Zuhrī (d. 124/742) complained that he and other Muslims were forced to fabricate historical accounts by the Umayyad rulers, and Ibn Khaldūn (d. 808/1406) wrote of the complex relationship between the sword (of the Muslim ruler) and the pen (of the history writers).80 In an early pro-ᶜAlid tradition, we Did the Qur’ānic Pagans Make a Living?,” 387–399; also Crone, “Pagan Arabs as God-fearers,” in Islam, ed. Bakhos and Cook, 140ff. Robinson explains that Muslim writers “were not simply taking liberties with texts: they were generating the texts themselves.” Robinson, Historiography, 38. Rudolf Sellheim separates three kinds of material in Muhammad’s sīra, including mythical legends on Muhammad and ᶜAbbāsid propaganda against the Umayyads. Sellheim, “Prophet,” 53–73 and 49– 53, respectively. See also Wansbrough, Qur’ānic, 58. 78 See Petersen, ᶜAlī, 11–20; Khalidi, Images, 151–280; Hagen, “Imagined,” 97–111; Wansbrough, Sectarian, ix, 118–119; Wansbrough, “Res ipsa loquitur,” in Method, ed. Berg, 10–19; Rippin, “Literary Analysis,” in Approaches, ed. Martin, 155–156. 79 Robinson, Empire and Elites, viii. See a similar approach adopted by Uri Rubin in The Eye of the Beholder, 1–3, where he argues that the Muslim accounts reflect “the self-image of medieval Islamic society” (3). Rubin studies these texts “for the sake of the stories recorded in them, not for the sake of the events described in these stories” (1). This is commonly described as a “literary” approach. In commenting on this approach and in agreement with Rubin, Gerald Hawting states, “it is difficult to see how anyone could expect to recover real facts about Muḥammad’s life from the sort of traditions and reports examined here” (127). Hawting, “Review,” 126–129. Rippin writes that from a “salvation history” standpoint, “The actual ‘history’ in the sense of ‘what really happened’ has become totally subsumed within later interpretation and is virtually, if not totally, inextricable from it,” or in other words, “The records we have are the existential records of the thought and faith of later generations.” Rippin, “Literary Analysis,” in Approaches, ed. Martin, 156. 80 Ibn Khaldūn, Muqaddima, 1:318, where he writes that the pen and the sword kilāhumā āla li- ṣāḥib al-dawla (both are a tool [in the hands] of the ruler). As for al-Zuhrī, the quote is reported by Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 2:334. On the political influence on historical writing, see Borrut, “Vanishing Syria,” as he discusses the ᶜAbbāsīd’s influence on creating and erasing the past; also Anthony, Muhammad, 129ff. Robinson observes that some transmitters “were not simply taking liberties with texts: they were generating the texts themselves.” Robinson, Historiography, 38; he also states that “history can also reflect biases and prejudices, for it, too, can have clear social and political functions” (13). See Décobert, Le Mendiant, 34, where he states, “une sédimentation est reparable.” Borrut, Entre, 17, 37; Donner, Narratives, 276–282. On al-Zuhrī’s statement, see Schoeler, Écrire, 55; Martinez-Gros, L’idéologie, 20–21. On Ibn Khaldūn’s thought, see ᶜĀbid al-Jābrī, Fikr Ibn Khaldūn, 243–280; ᶜĀbid al-Jābrī, Naḥn wa-l-turāth, 261ff; al-Wurayyimī, Ḥafriyyāt fī al-khiṭāb al-khaldūnī,
Introduction 23 are told, “Muᶜāwiya summoned the reciters and judges of Syria, gave them money, and sent them all over Syria narrating false reports and fabricating historical accounts.”81 Despite the obvious bias of sectarian traditions, it is reasonable to argue that historians are highly influenced by their contexts and that the shape of their narratives cannot be disassociated from their religious worldviews and sociopolitical concerns. Chase Robinson observes that Muslim writers “were not simply taking liberties with texts: they were generating the texts themselves.”82 Erling Petersen writes, “The traditionist never relinquishes his right to personal political or religious commitment to the subject he deals with.”83 Islamic historiography thus serves as a tool to form the “historical memory” of the faithful, rather than as a precise account of the past.84 Third, Islamic historiography is not only written but also rewritten.85 While its genesis should be credited to the Umayyads, its growth is due to their rivals, the ᶜAbbāsids.86 Although the ᶜAbbāsids and their historians significantly influenced historical depictions, the pre-ᶜAbbāsid voice is not completely suppressed.87 Scholars argue that a variety of literary filters were at play, dictated by a host of sectarian and political considerations which result in a series of historiographical layers.88
15–34. See ᶜAzīz al-ᶜAẓma, al-Turāth bayn al-ṣulṭān wa-l-tārīkh, 129–145, where he responds to al-Jābrī’s views; also ᶜAzīz al-ᶜAẓma, Ibn Khaldūn wa tārīkhiyyatuh, ch. 2. 81 Sulaym ibn Qays, Kitāb Sulaym, 279 (hereafter cited as Sulaym). 82 Robinson, Historiography, 38. 83 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 17; Crone, Meccan, 230. 84 On the formation of memory and how communities recall their past in new ways by creating new memories, see Savant, New Muslims, 3ff.; Clanchy, From Memory, ch. 9; Robinson, Historiography, 172–177; Geary, Phantoms, 111–122. 85 Patrick Geary, in studying European society in the tenth through the eleventh centuries, argues that there was a large amount of “creative forgetting” from both individuals and communities, as they readjusted their sense of connection to their past by creating new memories more useful to their present, using a process of transmission, adaptation, and suppression. See his work Phantoms of Remembrance and his article “Oblivion between Orality and Textuality in the Tenth Century,” in Medieval Concepts, ed. Althoff and Geary, 111–122, especially p.111. See also Borrut, Entre, 80; Savant, New Muslims, 3. 86 See Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 81, 91, where he identifies Umayyad figures who wrote history; also al-Masᶜūdī, Kitāb al-Tanbīh, 1:93. For secondary studies, see Muṣṭafā, al-Ta’rīkh, 1:66–67, 1:80–83; Borrut, Entre, ch. 1, especially 37–40, where he writes of Muᶜāwiya’s attention to historical writing. Borrut provides various examples of history writing in Umayyad Syria and analyzes the possible layers of historical writing and the scrupulous work of transmission. Robinson believes history writing began as early as the rise of Islam itself. Robinson, Historiography, 14. Ibrahim, Stated, ch. 2; Donner, “Umayyad,” 187–211; Wellhausen, Arab Kingdom, xv; Ḍayf, al-ᶜAṣr al-ᶜabbāsī, 126. 87 Hibri, “Redemption,” 241ff., where he examines the pro-Umayyad reports which survived ᶜAbbāsid hostility. See also Petersen, ᶜAlī, 109ff; Borrut, Entre, ch. 1. 88 Borrut, Entre, 59–60, 80; Savant, New Muslims, 14.
24 Conversion to Islam In my examination of conversion in Islamic historiography, I seek to discern why historians (re)fashioned their accounts in certain ways by emphasizing and suppressing certain literary features to shape the “historical memory” of the faithful.89 I situate their written records within their religious and sociopolitical contexts.90 I believe that Islamic historiography provides a likely altered description of past events. Historiographical accounts do not necessarily describe the past, but instead reveal a dynamic cultural, religious, and political shared history, which reflects and advances the ideologies and opinions of classical Muslim historians. This is an important portion of the methodology adopted in this book; more points of explanation are in the following section.
Methodology: Interplay between Historical Phenomena and Literary Depictions In this study, I begin by gathering the extant historical sources from the first three Islamic centuries. I identify their authors and their biographical backgrounds as found in classical primary sources, and examine the recent scholarly discussions regarding these historians and their works, including source problems.91 I situate the historiographical reports within their historical context, as I attempt to determine the possible biases of the authors. I assemble all conversion accounts in the sources under scrutiny, identifying and organizing literary depictions. I detect repeated themes, trace reoccurring literary features, and categorize conversion themes into clusters, labeling them topoi of conversion. When analyzing conversion themes, I study the regional, sectarian, political, and other affiliations of the authors and their works. I compare and contrast historians’ depictions against their time of writing (e.g., pre-ᶜAbbāsid or ᶜAbbāsid) and their religio-political inclination
89 Savant, New Muslims, 13. 90 Robinson, Empire and Elite, ch. 1, especially viii, where he seeks “to marry history and historiography.” 91 I trace the major findings of secondary scholarly studies on these historians and their works, relying on studies—classic and modern, Western and non-Western—including those by Carl Brockelmann (1868–1956), Clément Huart (1854–1926), Fuat Sezgin (1924–), ᶜAbd al-ᶜAzīz al-Dūrī (1919–2010), Shākir Muṣṭafā (1921–1997), Franz Rosenthal (1914–2003), Khayr al-Dīn al-Ziriklī (1893–1976), ᶜUmar Kaḥḥāla (1905–1987), Erling Petersen, Stephen Humphreys, Fred Donner, and Chase Robinson, among others. For biographical information on some of the Orientalists, see the valuable encyclopedic work of ᶜAbd al-Raḥmān Badawī, Mawsūᶜat al-mustashriqīn. For example, see pp. 98–106 on Brockelmann.
Introduction 25 (e.g., pro-Umayyad, pro-ᶜAlid, pro-ᶜAbbāsid). Consequently, I identify similar (or opposite) depictions and study how literary themes are likely manipulated to serve the historians’ needs; thus, I determine possible reasons for consistencies or inconsistencies among different accounts. Finally, I examine the findings in order to assess possible interplays between historiography and history, i.e., between the text and its context.
Structure and Plan of the Book The primary objective of this study is to trace and analyze conversion themes in early Islamic historiography in order to examine the shaping of conversion, as a literary topic, during the first three centuries of Islam. The book consists of two major parts, chronologically organized between the Umayyad and ᶜAbbāsid periods; the former is the focus of Chapter 2, while the latter is examined in Chapters 3 and 4. I begin each chapter by investigating external evidence (source problems and transmission issues), followed by internal criticism (analyzing textual depictions).92 After this introductory chapter (Chapter 1), I devote Chapter 2 to sources attributed to pre-ᶜAbbāsid writers, who lived and wrote during the Umayyad Caliphate: Sulaym ibn Qays (d. 76/695), Ibn Shihāb al-Zuhrī (d. 124/741), and Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba (d. 135/752). These sources are problematic, for various reasons which I examine extensively in the first section of the chapter. I then focus on the literary descriptions of conversion and detectable themes in the second section. In this chapter, I demonstrate how the earliest available historical reports include precursors of conversion themes, which are to be developed, used, or reinterpreted under the ᶜAbbāsid rule. Chapter 2 argues that, since the genesis of Muslim historical writing, religious historians not only emphasized conversion but also used it to advance their religious views and support their political agendas. In Chapters 3 and 4, I examine sources written under the ᶜAbbāsid Caliphate (ca. 133/750–299/911). The two chapters are split by the crucial year 218/833, in which the Caliph al-Ma’mūn (r. 198/813–218/833) enforced the miḥna (inquisition). In Chapter 3, I examine pre-miḥna historical 92 For source criticism including evaluating internal and external evidence, see the Oxford study of Elizabeth Ann Danto, Historical Research, 12, 63, as she uses the terms “internal reliability” and “external validity”; see McDowell, Historical Research, 3–15, 54ff.; also Leedy and Ormrod, Practical Research, 161ff.
26 Conversion to Islam works, while Chapter 4 addresses post-miḥna works. This choice is not arbitrary. A brief word of explanation on the historical significance of this structural choice is in order, although I will study the miḥna in depth in Chapters 3 and 4. During the first half-century of the ᶜAbbāsid Caliphate (ca. 133/750–193/ 809), the ᶜAbbāsids sought to consolidate their power.93 They presented the Umayyads unfavorably for the most part,94 and relied chiefly on Muᶜtazilism in establishing their pro-ᶜAbbāsid tradition.95 Muᶜtazilism included both political and theological dimensions.96 Josef van Ess traces its earliest political manifestation to the First Civil War (35/656–41/661), when a group of Muhammad’s companions refused to participate in the clash over ᶜUthmān’s murder, and iᶜtazalū (separated themselves, thus muᶜtazila).97 He rightly observes that “it was not yet a party or a school,” as the early muᶜtazila were not “theoreticians.”98 As for its theological dimension, Petersen asserts, 93 This is around the death of Hārūn al-Rashīd (r. 170/786–193/809). Petersen, ᶜAlī, 116. Hibri, “Redemption,” 241–242. 94 Hibri, “Redemption,” 241–242, where he studies the pro-Umayyad historical voice which survived the ᶜAbbāsid hostility. See also Petersen, ᶜAlī, 109ff. On this, see also Borrut, Entre, ch. 1. 95 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 71. Some of the earliest supporters of Muᶜtazilism were openly anti-Umayyad. See good examples offered by al-Wurayyimī, Fī al-I’tilāf, 257–258. She explains how Abū Ḥanīfa (d. 150/767) appears to have adopted Muᶜtazilite tendencies by arguing the Qur’ān is created (257ff.) and, under caliphal pressure, he had to repent publicly more than once (271). On Abū Ḥanīfa’s virtues and opinions, see al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 15:444ff.; for warnings against his views, see 15:530ff. For a recent study on Abū Ḥanīfa, see Yanagihashi, “Abū Ḥanīfa,” in Islamic Legal Thought, ed. Arabi et al., 11–26. 96 On Muᶜtazilism and its arguments, see the important masterpiece Faḍl al-iᶜtizāl wa ṭabaqāt al-muᶜtazila, which contains texts written (or dictated) by three of its major thinkers, Abū al- Qāsim al-Balkhī (d. 319/931), ᶜAbd al-Jabbār (d. 415/1024), and al-Ḥākim al-Jushamī (d. 494/ 1100): On the basic theology of Muᶜtazilism, see 3–67; for its earliest advocates, see 180ff. On the emergence and development of Muᶜtazilism, see Amīn, Ẓuhr al-islām, 721–743; el-Omari, “Muᶜtazilite,” 130–141; Bennett, “Muᶜtazilite,” 142–158. On considering the Muᶜtazilites zanādīqa (heretics and unbelievers), particularly in the second hijrī century, see Chokr, Zandaqa, section two; al-Wurayyimī, Fī al-I’tilāf, 268; Ḥamad, al-Zandaqa, 39. On zandaqa in general, see ᶜAṭwān, al-Zandaqa, 11–26; Ḍayf, al-ᶜAṣr al-ᶜabbāsī al-awwal, 74ff.; ᶜAbd al-Raḥmān Badawī, Min tārīkh al-ilḥād fī al-islām, 25–40. 97 Van Ess, Theology, 2:386, where he writes, “there had been muᶜtazilūn long before Wāṣil and ᶜAmr at the time of the first civil war.” For some of these muᶜtazilūn, see al-Dīnawarī, Kitāb al- akhbār al-ṭiwāl, 166; Balādhurī, Ansāb, 2:299, 2:425; Ibn Qutayba, al-Maᶜārif, 292, 320; al-Faḍl ibn Shādhān, al-Īḍāḥ, 54; Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 3:664–665; Ibn Qutayba, Siyar, 2:536, 3:29–33; Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 29:24, 39:497; Goldziher, Introduction, 86. 98 Van Ess, Theology, 2:386. For the argument of the political dimension of Muᶜtazilism, see the valuable discussion of Susanna Diwald-Wilzer in her introduction to Ibn al-Murtaḍā, Kitāb ṭabaqāt al-muᶜtazila, where she argues that the claims regarding the political origins are disputed. For the meaning of the nouns Muᶜtazila and iᶜtizāl, see al-Balkhī et al., Faḍl al-iᶜtizāl, 75–76. For the political context of the emergence of the Muᶜtazilites as opponents of ᶜAlī and the enmity between Banū Hāshim and Banū Umayya, see Zaman, Religion, 59ff.; also Zaydān, Ta’rīkh al-tamaddun al-islāmī, 4:332ff.; al-Qimanī, al-Ḥizb al-hāshimī; ᶜAbd al-Karīm, Quraysh, 33ff.; Petersen, ᶜAlī, 71. For their rise as a theological thought, see al-Isfahānī, Maqātil al-Ṭalibiyyīn, 1:79; al-Balkhī et al., Faḍl, 180ff.; Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 3:480, 485; al-Muᶜattiq, al-Muᶜtazila, 14–21; Gaudefroy-Demombynes, Muslim Institutions, 33.
Introduction 27 “Muᶜtazilism as a theological persuasion was formed in Basra in the last decades of the Umayyad period in contrast to other religious movements and was above all distinguished for indeterminism and its call for rational thinking.”99 Muᶜtazilism served the ᶜAbbāsids greatly and was unique in its denunciation of the Umayyads and its elevation of ᶜAlī.100 It was also foundational in influencing historical writing and creating a pro-ᶜAbbāsid tradition, in which various efforts to separate historical writing from religious and political concerns were pursued.101 However, Muᶜtazilism was not favored equally by the ᶜAbbāsid caliphs. While Hārūn al-Rashīd was hostile toward it,102 his son al-Ma’mūn enforced it during his final year of
99 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 71–72. Theologically, Muᶜtazilism was characterized by advocating for rationalism and opposing traditionists. See van Ess, Theology, 2:286ff., 3:483ff.; van Ess, Flowering, 9ff. (ch. 1) and 79ff. (ch. 3), where he situates Muᶜtazilism as a theological approach within the broader Islamic theology; also Crone, Medieval, 65; Martin et al., Defenders, 10–18 (for rationalism, reason, and doctrines), 26ff. (for its early stages of theological development). On the origins and arguments of Muᶜtazilism, see al-Shahrastānī, Kitāb al-milal wa-l-niḥal, 46ff.; Ibn al-Murtaḍā, Kitāb ṭabaqāt al- muᶜtazila, 3ff. For secondary studies, see Yāsīn, al-Sulṭa fī al-islām, 106–125; Amīn, Ḍuḥā al-islām, 3:21ff.; al-Wurayyimī, Fī al-I’tilāf, 192; Corbin, History, 105–111; Gaudefroy-Demombynes, Muslim Institutions, 29ff.; Nawas, Al-Ma’mūn, 14–16, 31ff.; Stroumsa, “Beginning,” 265–293. According to Christopher Melchert, pro-Muᶜtazilī “dismissed ḥadīth as insufficiently well attested for the Muslims to rely on it. The Sunnī position, against the Muᶜtazila, respected the Qur’ān but advocated heavy reliance on ḥadīth to elaborate the law where the Qur’ān was silent.” Melchert, “Aḥmad,” 27; Melchert, Formation, ch. 7. For Baṣra as a stronghold of Muᶜtazilism, see Martin et al., Defenders, 28ff.; Peters, God’s Created Speech, 1–37, especially 5–8; Petersen, ᶜAlī, 72, 88; van Ess, Theology, 4:3ff.; van Ess, Zwischen Hadit, 61ff. 100 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 88, 121, where he concludes that Muᶜtazilism was distinguished as a supporting force behind the early ᶜAbbāsids, especially because of “its sympathetic evaluation of ᶜAlī” and “its vehement denunciation of the Umayyads and the extreme Shīᶜism” (88). For a classical Shīᶜite view on the Muᶜtazila, see al-Faḍl ibn Shādhān, al-Īḍāḥ, 5ff. Speaking of Muᶜtazilites, Crone writes that “most of them were fond of ᶜAlī, and in Baghdad they were often Zaydīs.” Crone, Medieval, 65. 101 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 122. It should be noted that the influence was not only in favor of the ᶜAbbāsid. Tayeb el-Hibri argues convincingly that the clash between the ᶜulamā’ and the caliphs during the miḥna resulted in establishing a pro-Umayyad stance. Hibri, “Redemption,” 254. Eventually, this pro- Umayyad stance permeated historical writing. 102 On Hārūn al-Rashīd’s support of traditionists and opposition of political Shīᶜism and Muᶜtazilism, see Rifāᶜī, ᶜAṣr al-Ma’mūn, 1:158 (opposing Muᶜtazilism); al-Dūrī, al-ᶜAṣr al-ᶜabbāsī, 110ff. (al-Rashīd as anti-ᶜAlid); Abū Khalīl, Hārūn al-Rashīd, 194ff. (his elevation of al-Shāfiᶜī); al-Wurayyimī, Fī al-I’tilāf wa-l-ikhtilāf, 117ff., 146, 191ff. (the role of al-Shāfiᶜī as a traditionist anti-Muᶜtazilite during al-Rashīd’s reign); also al-Bayhaqī, Manāqib al-Shāfiᶜī, 1:399–401. On his anti-Muᶜtazilism policies, see al-Balkhī, et al., Faḍl al-iᶜtizāl, 250; al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 8:20, 16:9ff.; Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 15:87; Dhahabī, Siyar, 10:201–206. On his anti-ᶜAlid tendencies, see al- Masᶜūdī, Murūj, 3:293ff; Yaᶜqūbī, Ta’rīkh, 2:499; Omar, “Hārūn al-Rashīd,” EI2, 3:233. Ibn al-Nadīm states that al-Shāfiᶜī was shadīdan fī al-tashayyuᶜ (a strong Shīᶜite) before his crisis under Hārūn ended with pardoning him. Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 209; Chaumont, “al-Shāfiᶜī,” EI2, 9:181–185. On how al-Rashīd reportedly targeted many Shīᶜites, see al-Dūrī, al-ᶜAṣr, 111ff.; Bouvat, Les Barmécides, 55–59; Muḥsin al-Amīn, Kitāb aᶜyān al-shīᶜa, 1:24ff.; al-Ṣadūq, ᶜUyūn akhbār al-Riḍā, 1:108–112; al- Isfahānī, Maqātil, 387ff., where there is a list of many Shīᶜites who were killed by al-Rashīd’s orders. For a modern Sunnī view opposing the Muᶜtazila, see the arguments of Tunisian scholar Abū Lubāba Ḥusayn, Mawqif al-muᶜtazila min al-sunna, 113–168; Abū Lubāba Ḥusayn, al-Sunna al-nabawiyya waḥyy, 17–21; also al-Muᶜattiq, al-Muᶜtazila, 283ff.
28 Conversion to Islam life as the theological orthodoxy of the land.103 In its reliance on rationalism and criticism of the “tradition-bound orthodoxy,” Muᶜtazlism clashed with the ᶜulamā’ (religious scholars) who emphatically revered prophetic traditions.104 These ᶜulamā’ were proto-Sunnī scholars and known as ahl al- ḥadīth (people of prophetic traditions) or aṣḥāb al-ḥadīth (the ḥadīth party, traditionists).105 When al-Ma’mūn (r. 198/813–218/833) enforced the theological test of the miḥna in 218/833, he marked the beginning of a troubling time in the caliphate,106 which ended when al-Mutawakkil (r. 232/847–247/ 861) terminated the miḥna and forsook Muᶜtazilism altogether. This marked a new era, during which tradition was once again highly revered but religious scholars had to make various attempts at compromise.107 Therefore, in the ᶜAbbāsid period under study (ca. 133/750–299/911), there are two major religio-political phases: pre-miḥna and post-miḥna. These are the periods covered in Chapters 3 and 4, respectively, with a particular emphasis
103 See van Ess, Theology, 3:214ff.; Jadᶜān, al-Miḥna, 56ff.; Amīn, Ẓuhr al-islām, 721. For the treatment of Muᶜtazilism as zandaqa (heresy) and Muᶜtazilites as kuffār (unbelievers) by Hārūn al-Rashīd, see Shukr, al-Zandaqa fī dār al-islām, 121–124. For the possible motives of al-Ma’mūn in enforcing the miḥna, see Hurvitz, Formation, ch. 7; also Petersen, ᶜAlī, 73, where he traces the progress of al- Ma’mūn’s actions: In 212/827, six years before the miḥna, al-Ma’mūn attempted to enforce his power by elevating the religious preference of ᶜAlī above all others. Petersen argues that al-Ma’mūn did so because he abandoned plans to benefit the ᶜAlids in dynastic arrangements (73). See also Zaman, Religion, 59, where he argues that Hārūn endorsed a proto-Sunnī position. For a brief discussion on when Sunnism became an official madhhab (sect or school of thought) within Islam, see Amīn, Ẓuhr al-islām, 789ff. 104 Van Ess, Theology, 3:483ff.; Hinds, “Miḥna,” EI2, 7:2–6; Petersen, ᶜAlī, 121–122. Crone and Hinds, God’s Caliph, 92–97, 363–385. For the role of the ᶜulamā’, particularly al-Shāfiᶜī’s pupil Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal, see H. Laoust, “Aḥmad b. Ḥanbal,” EI2, 1:272–277; Laoust, “Ḥanābila,” EI2, 3:158–162; Hurvitz, Formation, 113ff. See also Roberts, “Early,” 55; Zaman, Religion, 71ff.; Hoyland, “Arabic,” 211–233. 105 Crone, Medieval, 125ff., where she writes that “the miḥna was in the nature of a gauntlet flung at the Ḥadīth party” (131). For a classical praise, see al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Sharaf aṣḥāb al-ḥadīth, 22ff. and 55ff., where he praises aṣḥāb al-ḥadīth and reports how Muhammad foretold of honoring them. See also similar praises by al-Ḥākim al-Kabīr, Shiᶜār aṣḥāb al-ḥadīth. For a classical Shīᶜite view on aṣḥāb al-ḥadīth, see al-Faḍl ibn Shādhān, al-Īḍāḥ, 7–44. 106 See Crone, Medieval, 131ff., where she argues that al-Ma’mūn was not trying to impose Muᶜtazilism, but to challenge aṣḥāb al-ḥadīth, because “he was not a Muᶜtazilite himself; his mentor seems to have been the Murji’ite Bishr al-Marīsī” (131). 107 One of the attempts at compromise appears in the example of al-Shāfiᶜī (d. 204/820). He was the first to respond decisively to Muᶜtazilism’s attack on tradition by demanding strong isnād connected to Muhammad or his companions. Petersen, ᶜAlī, 123. On al-Shāfiᶜī, see Joseph Lowry, “al-Shāfiᶜī,” in Islamic Legal Thought, ed. Arabi et al., 43ff.; Ḥammāmī, Islām al-fuqahā’, 55–68; Abū Zayd, al-Imām al-Shāfiᶜī, 11ff; Abū Zayd, Naqd al-khiṭāb al-dīnī, 84ff; Abū Zayd, Falsafat al-ta’wīl, 12ff. For the attempts at compromise between the ᶜulamā’ (scholars) and Muᶜtazilism, see Petersen, ᶜAlī, 133ff.; Gaudefroy-Demombynes, Muslim Institutions, 29ff. Tayeb el-Hibri argues convincingly that the clash between the ᶜulamā’ and the caliphs during the miḥna resulted in establishing a pro- Umayyad stance. Hibri, “Redemption,” 254. Eventually, this pro-Umayyad stance permeated historical writing.
Introduction 29 on how these religio-political controversies influenced literary depictions of conversion.108 In Chapter 3, I focus on the period 133/750–218/833 and study conversion themes in works written by historians who lived and wrote before the enforcement of the miḥna in 218/833.109 These works are the earliest available from the ᶜAbbasid era. In this chapter, I analyze how the caliphs’ attempts to establish a pro-ᶜAbbāsid orthodoxy have influenced history writing, and thus impacted historical depictions of conversion. While I trace and analyze topoi of conversion, I demonstrate how pro-ᶜAbbāsid historians portrayed the conversion of major Umayyad figures unfavorably, advancing pro- Shīᶜite and pro-ᶜAlid depictions. I contrast ᶜAbbāsid depictions with pre- ᶜAbbāsid portrayals to emphasize how religio-political disputes shape the historiographical narrative. In Chapter 4, I focus on the aftermath of the miḥna and the continued fight for orthodoxy in the period (218/833–299/911). I examine the interaction between the caliphs and their historians as I trace and analyze conversion topoi in works written during this period. I establish how the ᶜAbbāsid caliphs’ attempts—both at compromise with the traditionists and at maintaining the fight for ᶜAbbāsid claims—have redesigned conversion depictions.110 I show how this period witnessed both the suppression of extreme views and the elevation of moderate portrayals of conversion.111 Conversion depictions in the aftermath of the miḥna were influenced by reconciliatory attempts between
108 I benefited greatly from Chase Robinson and Erling Petersen in the titles and periodization of the two sections in this chapter; however, I did not follow their proposed periods precisely. Petersen roughly uses 750–800 to define the establishment of “Orthodox Tradition” and 800–850 for the pro- ᶜAbbāsid tradition. He then designates 750–800 as a period of enforcing Shiite tradition, as well as the survival of pro-Umayyad traditions under the ᶜAbbāsids. Robinson defines three phases in historical writing: ca. 610–730, ca. 730–830, and ca. 830–925. Robinson’s last two phases are roughly what I follow, although I divide the periods around the miḥna of 218/833. Petersen, ᶜAlī; Robinson, Historiography. On periodization in general, see Donner, “Periodization,” 20–36; Borrut, “Vanishing Syria,” 37–68. 109 Chapter 3 examines conversion in works by Sayf ibn ᶜUmar al-Tamīmī (d. 180/796), Abū Isḥāq al-Fazārī (d. 186/802), al-Wāqidī (d. ca. 207/823), Hishām Ibn al-Kalbī (d. 204/819), Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim (d. 212/827), Ibn Isḥāq (d. 151/761), Ibn Hishām (d. 218/833), and Abū Muḥammad Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam al-Miṣrī (d. 214/829). 110 Chapter 4 investigates conversion in works by Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ (d. 240/854), Ibn Qutayba al-Dīnawarī (d. 276/889), Aḥmad Ibn Yaḥyā al-Balādhurī (d. ca. 279/892), Ibn Wāḍiḥ al-Yaᶜqūbī (d. 284/897 or 292/905), Muḥammad ibn Saᶜd (d. 230/844), Ibn Sallām al-Jumaḥī (d. 232/847), Yaḥyā ibn Maᶜīn (d. 233/847), Muṣᶜab ibn ᶜAbdullāh al-Zubayrī (d. 236/851), Ibn Ḥabīb al-Baghdādī (d. 245/895), Zubayr ibn Bakkār (d. 256/870), Abū al-Qāsim ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam (d. 257/871), ᶜUmar ibn Shabba (d. 262/875), Yaᶜqūb ibn Sufyān al-Fasawī (d. 277/890), Ibn Abī Khaythama (d. 279/892), Abū Zurᶜa al-Rāzī al-Dimashqī (d. 281/894), and Abū Ḥanīfa Dīnawarī (d. ca. 282/895). 111 On this compromise, see Petersen, ᶜAlī, 134–135; Hughes, Muslim Identities, 115–116.
30 Conversion to Islam the rulers and historians, as evidenced by the harmonization of differing ideologies.112 In Chapter 5, I present a cohesive conclusion. I summarize the findings, emphasize the arguments, and synthesize the concluding remarks of the entire study. Islamic historiography presents varying notions of conversion to Islam which are evidenced by repeated literary features and depictions. Not only does it suggest that conversion started slowly (as recent studies advocate), but also that conversion meant different things, including sincere religious conviction and mere political submission. Medieval Muslim historians utilize conversion themes to address both non- Muslims and Muslims, highlighting the supremacy of Islam to non-Muslims and emphasizing genuineness of faith to Muslims. Literary depictions of conversion are a product of the religious views of the historians, influenced by the sociopolitical requirements at the time of writing.
112 See Petersen, ᶜAlī, 173, as he explains how reconciling trends between writers and rulers was necessary and achieved during this period. He explains that attempts were made “to find a compromise between the conflicting views or reconciliatory trends, which on either side strive towards a common goal” (173).
2 Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads We have not known of any one converted to Islam before Zayd ibn Ḥāritha. —Al-Zuhrī (d. 124/741) The Prophet Muhammad told ᶜAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib, “You and twelve of your progeny are the truthful imams,” and no one but Sulaym ibn Qays narrated such a report. —Abū al-Ḥasan al-Masᶜūdī (d. 345/956)
Conversion to Islam, as a literary theme, appears in the earliest extant sources of Islamic historiography. While Muslim historical writing flourished under the ᶜAbbāsid rule, it undoubtedly began much earlier, during the Umayyad period. Ibn al-Nadīm (d. 385/995) reports that there were various attempts at history writing during the reigns of the two Umayyad caliphs Muᶜāwiya (d. 61/680) and al-Walīd ibn Yazīd (d. 126/744).1 Abū al-Ḥasan al-Masᶜūdī (d. 345/956) states that the Caliph Hishām ibn ᶜAbd al-Malik (d. 125/743) commissioned the writing of a history work about the kings of Persia.2 Scholars now agree that Muslims paid attention to history writing during the Umayyad Caliphate,3 although most of this corpus has not 1 Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 89, 91, respectively. Regarding Muᶜāwiya’s attention to history, see Muṣṭafā, al-Ta’rīkh al-ᶜarabī wa-l-mu’arrikhūn, 1:94–95. See also Yāsīn, al-Sulṭa fī al-islām, 258ff., where he traces the Umayyad political influence on history writing. According to al-Ṭabarī, some say Muhammad himself initiated the writing of history among Muslims, while others say it was the second Caliph ᶜUmar. See al-Ṭabarī, Ta’rīkh, 1250. 2 Al-Masᶜūdī, Kitāb al-Tanbīh wa-l-ishrāf, 1:93. For a discussion about the attention Umayyads paid to historical writing, see Muṣṭafā, al-Ta’rīkh al-ᶜarabī wa-l-mu’arrikhūn, 1:66–67, 1:80–83. 3 See Borrut, Entre, ch. 1, especially 37–40, where he demonstrates the attention of Muᶜāwiya to history and the future of this collection. Borrut lists various examples of the existence of historical writing in Umayyad Syria, emphasizing a scrupulous work of transmission and the obvious mobility of authorities (49ff.). See also Anthony, Muhammad, 86ff.; Muṣṭafā, al-Ta’rīkh, 1:66–93. Robinson
Conversion to Islam. Ayman S. Ibrahim, Oxford University Press (2021). © Oxford University Press. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780197530719.003.0002
32 Conversion to Islam survived.4 This chapter focuses on three authors who presumably wrote before the ᶜAbbāsid revolution in 132/750: Sulaym ibn Qays (d. 76/695), Ibn Shihāb al-Zuhrī (d. 124/741), and Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba (d. 135/752 or 141/758).5 These writers lived and wrote during the Umayyad period. Their works are significant and unique, considering the fact that most of the classical Arabic sources originated during the ᶜAbbāsid Caliphate, which rivaled the Umayyads.6 Their accounts offer one of the earliest attempts by Muslims to describe their history; consequently, their portrayal of conversion to Islam is the earliest known and is exceptionally important. I aim to examine the works of these authors, highlighting their external evidence and textual problems and tracing their literary representations of conversion. These three authors, as I will explain in detail in the following section, wrote in conflicting religio-political contexts: civil wars; momentous battles, such as Karbalā’ (61/680) in Iraq and al-Ḥarra (63/683) in Hijaz; the leadership of key figures, including ᶜAbd al-Malik (d. 86/705) and al-Ḥajjāj ibn Yūsuf (d. 95/714); and the rise of the non-Arab Muslim mawālī and their various roles in the expanding Umayyad Caliphate. Their writings are not only a product of cultural and sociopolitical change but also a reflection of severe religious conflict in early Islam, as evidenced by the anti-Umayyad pro-ᶜAlid sympathies advanced by Sulaym ibn Qays and the pro-Umayyad inclination advanced by al-Zuhrī. Moreover, these authors flourished in different geographical locations in the expanding caliphate: Sulaym is Kūfan born, lived in Medina and Persia, and was reportedly a close companion of ᶜAlī ibn Abī
believes history writing began as early as the rise of Islam itself. Robinson, Historiography, 14. On the ᶜAbbāsid impact on the Arabic Muslim sources, see Agha, Revolution, xv–xxxii; Petersen, ᶜAlī, 118–119. See also Hoyland, “Arabic,” 211–233, where he examines how the early ᶜAbbāsids sought to adapt history to their cultural and political requirements. On the lost Umayyad corpus of writing, see Borrut, Entre, 102, 118; Wellhausen, Das arabische Reich, xii. Das arabische Reich und sein Sturz (Berlin 1960, 1902) was translated as The Arab Kingdom and Its Fall. On Wellhausen, see Badawī, Mawsūᶜat al-mustashriqīn, 408–410. 4 Antoine Borrut convincingly argues that most of our historiographical accounts have been filtered and redacted under the ᶜAbbāsids through a process of “successive phases,” resulting in various literary layers. See Borrut, Entre, 59–108, where he writes of “le prisme déformant des grands auteurs et compilateurs de l’âge Abbasside” (61). 5 For the three authors, their works, and their textual problems, see the next section in this chapter, but briefly see Sezgin, Ta’rīkh al-turāth, vol. 1, part 2:74–79 (on al-Zuhrī), and 84–86 (on Mūsā), where he places al-Zuhrī and Mūsā among the sīra writers under the Umayyads (hereafter Sezgin, Ta’rīkh al-turāth, 1:2:74– 79); also Muṣṭafā, al-Ta’rīkh al-ᶜarabī wa-l-mu’arrikhūn, 1:94 (on al- Zuhrī); Huart, History, 61, 236, 303 (on al-Zuhrī) and 175 (on Mūsā); Brockelmann, History, 1:122; Brockelmann, Ta’rīkh, 3:10. 6 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 71. For the anti-Umayyad voice in the ᶜAbbāsid sources and a study of several accounts which place the Umayyads in a more nuanced and favorable light, see el-Hibri, “Redemption.”
Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads 33 Ṭālib; Ibn Shihāb al-Zuhrī is Medinan born, to whom the Medinan historical school of writing—which produced the earliest accounts of Muhammad’s maghāzī—is attributed; Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba is Medinan born and the son of a mawlā of al-Zubayr ibn al-ᶜAwwām (d. 36/656). Each author’s experience is influenced by his birthplace, tribal adherence, and encounters in his travels throughout the Umayyad lands. When analyzing conversion incidents in literary accounts, one must pay close attention to each author’s geographical location and tribal background, as their living experience affects their depictions of conversion. In this chapter, my argument is three-fold. First, the accounts of the three authors reflect not only how the earliest Muslims represented conversion to Islam but also their understanding of what it actually meant to be Muslim. Second, historiographical narratives are significant in both introducing political preferences and advancing doctrinal agendas. These authors provide a window into the rich religious and sociopolitical contexts under the Umayyads. Their accounts reveal the theological and political differences among Muslims. They also describe the extent to which early Muslims debated and advanced important conversion themes, including the distinction between being Muslim and mere believing, reversion following conversion, the identities of early converts, conversion after divine encounters, conversion to retain one’s possessions, conversion of ahl al-kitāb (Scripture people), and forced conversion, among others. Third, these descriptions serve as precursors of developing conversion themes in Muslim historical writing, which will be repeatedly utilized by other historians.7 At the outset, I should make two caveats. First, I acknowledge the textual problems in the sources under study and will examine them in the following section. However, I aim to examine literary descriptions and themes of conversion. “From the point of view of the coalescence of historiographical or narrative themes,” Fred Donner observes, “it does not matter whether the material is gathered as a discrete and strictly delimited book, or only as a collection of notes on that topic.”8 The importance of Donner’s assertion lies in the fact that conversion themes, I argue, have become the focus of Muslim debates since the first century of Islam. Whether these themes occurred in 7 On this third point, see in particular Donner, Narratives, 145, where he argues, “After [the mid- second century ah], the purveyors of narratives of Islamic origins continued to develop the material by reorganizing, recombining, or reinterpreting it, and (occasionally) by introducing completely new concerns.” 8 Donner, Narratives, 145.
34 Conversion to Islam “strictly delimited books” or in a “collection of [historical] notes,” we should grant that the topic itself originated during the earliest period of Islamic historical writing, and that these accounts serve as indicators of its earliest descriptions.9 Second, the conversion narratives of these three authors vary greatly: Sometimes they are brief indications, and in other cases lengthy accounts. While the emphasis and number of occurrences vary, these literary representations serve not only as descriptions of conversion incidents but also as precursors of conversion themes in Muslim historical writing. In a sense, these early representations establish the bedrock of conversion themes found in later Muslim sources. This chapter consists of two sections and a conclusion. In the first section, I will study details from the three chosen authors’ biographies in order to establish their religious and sociopolitical contexts. My goal is to examine each author’s historical background, doctrinal orientation, and sociopolitical involvement during the Umayyad period. I will analyze the source problems and comment on the authenticity of their works. In the second section, I will trace and scrutinize the occurrences of conversion to Islam in the accounts. I aim to investigate the following: How did these early writers depict conversion? Which conversion themes did they express and highlight? How did social measures, political concerns, and religious debates influence the authors’ portrayal of conversion to Islam? Why did they emphasize or suppress certain conversion features during specific historical periods? It is important to address these questions, as they seek not only to identify and trace literary features of conversion but also to situate historical narratives in their religio- political contexts. This serves the overall goal of the entire study, namely, analyzing conversion themes in Muslim historical writing and investigating how religious and sociopolitical debates influence conversion narratives. Methodologically, I endeavor to trace and inspect not only conversion incidents but also the authorial ideological intent behind the literary accounts. I attempt to identify whose perspective is represented and whose voice is suppressed. I approach these sources critically, acknowledging their ideological biases as well as their internal and external textual problems. I am aware that a historian’s inclinations are not always clearly defined by strict 9 See Donner, Narratives, 145, where he argues that “it is often difficult to be sure when accounts of a certain kind first came into wide circulation” and that it is “often an open question whether the author of a supposed early, lost work . . . [actually] wrote a discrete ‘book,’ or only gathered and maintained a collection of written notes on the subject which he transmitted, perhaps only in oral form, to his students.”
Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads 35 boundaries. They may change gradually and can be blurry or fluid at times. For example, we are told that al-Shāfiᶜī was identified as a Shīᶜite and perhaps a muᶜtazilī in his early life, but he later became a major authority of Sunnī Islam.10 However, when I speak of religio-political orientation in this context, I refer to the clearest sympathies and inclinations attributed to a specific historian as we know them from classical writings. Moreover, while I am not concerned with whether these conversion cases actually occurred, I aim to pinpoint and explore what they reveal about the sociopolitical and religious contexts of the authors during the Umayyad era. My goal is to amass all conversion accounts, plot the trajectories of literary development, and study how religious, social, and political concerns shaped these literary accounts.
Authors under the Umayyads: Historical Context and Authenticity of Sources Sulaym ibn Qays (d. 76/695) Sulaym ibn Qays (d. 76/695) is a controversial Kūfan figure: Shīᶜite Muslims commonly view him as one of the faithful companions of ᶜAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib and a contemporary of the earliest four imams, while their Sunnī counterparts consider him an anti-Umayyad polemical figure.11 His famous book, Kitāb Sulaym ibn Qays, if authentic, could be the earliest Islamic source in existence.12 It might even predate the closure of the Qur’ān, if one 10 See Robinson, “Ibn al-Azraq,” 16. Ibn al-Nadīm states that al-Shāfiᶜī was shadīdan fī al- tashayyuᶜ (an extreme Shīᶜite) before his crisis under Hārūn ended with pardoning him. Ibn al- Nadīm, Fihrist, 209; Chaumont, “al-Shāfiᶜī,” EI2, 9:181–185. Al-Shāfiᶜī also “began as nothing more than a dissenting Mālikite and by no means met with unanimous agreement.” Van Ess, Theology, 2:816. As for his possible connections with Muᶜtazilism, see van Ess, Theology, 3:192–193. See also Wurayyimī, Fī al-I’tilāf, 117ff., 191ff. 11 Djebli, “Sulaym b. Kays,” EI2, 9:818–819. See Amir-Moezzi, The Silent Qur’ān, 13–22; Modarressi, Tradition, 82–83. Modarressi’s work provides an overview of major Shīᶜite writings from the first three centuries of Islam. Sulaym moved from Kufa to Medina when he was about sixteen years old, during ᶜUmar’s caliphate (r. 13/634–23/644). Here, “imam” refers to “the successor to the Prophet’s position as political leader and ultimate religious authority of the Muslim community.” Crone, Nativist Prophets, 43. For the anti-Umayyad pro-ᶜAlid tendencies during the Umayyad period, see Donner, “Umayyad Efforts,” 187, where he states, “A powerful stream of anti-Umayyad rhetoric had begun to circulate already during the years of their rule among groups who opposed them, especially the supporters of their ᶜAlid rivals.” 12 See Amir-Moezzi, The Silent Qur’ān, 14, where he explains that the book is also called Kitāb asrār āl Muḥammad or kitāb al-saqīfa and is considered one of the earliest, if not the first, Shīᶜite or broadly Islamic sources. Sachedina, Islamic Messianism, 55. See al-Ṭūsī, Ikhtiyār maᶜrifat al-rijāl, 99– 100; al-Masᶜūdī, al-Tanbīh, 1:198–199; also al-Ziriklī, al-Aᶜlām, 3:119. The anonymous chronicler of Akhbār al-dawla al-ᶜabbāsiyya mentions Sulaym ibn Qays as an early narrator of traditions related to
36 Conversion to Islam considers skeptical arguments which place its canonization in the second/ eighth century.13 The Kitāb Sulaym is not only historical in its contents but also pro-ᶜAlid in its ideological orientation. Contemporary Shīᶜite scholar Seyfeddin Kara writes that Kitāb Sulaym “is arguably the oldest surviving Shiᶜi book, dating back to the first Islamic century.”14 It is thus a valuable source for our investigation, but a few initial notes are necessary regarding the authenticity and authorship of this controversial work. Classical Muslim authorities were cognizant of Kitāb Sulaym. Abū al- Ḥasan al-Masᶜūdī (d. 345/956) writes that Sulaym was the only narrator who attributed a specific ḥadīth to Muhammad.15 Ibn al-Nadīm (d. 385/ 995) acknowledges Kitāb Sulaym as al-mashhūr (the famous) and asserts that it was “the first book for the Shīᶜites.”16 Ibn al-Nadīm also observes that Sulaym was not only one of the faithful companions of ᶜAlī but also a figure targeted by the anti-ᶜAlid Umayyad governor al-Ḥajjāj ibn Yūsuf al-Thaqafī (d. 95/714), who sought to murder him, presumably due to Sulaym’s Shīᶜite inclinations.17 Ibn al-Nadīm mentions Kitāb Sulaym as an available source Muᶜāwiya. See Akhbār, 45. We should note that there are other individuals with the name Sulaym ibn Qays. See Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 3:372 (another Sulaym who witnessed all raids with Muhammad and died during ᶜUthmān’s reign); also Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 2:545, 546; Ibn Ḥajar, Iṣāba, 3:142. 13 See Wansbrough, Qur’anic Studies, 12; Wansbrough, The Sectarian Milieu, 147; Wansbrough, “Res Ipsa Loquitur,” in Method and Theory, ed. Berg, 7. According to Chase Robinson, Wansbrough “pushed the closure of the Qur’ānic text into the late second/eighth or early third/ninth centuries.” See Robinson, “Reconstructing Early Islam,” in Method and Theory, ed. Berg, 132; Donner, Narratives, 35ff.; Howard-Johnston, Witnesses, 355ff.; Sfar, In Search, 40–48. See also Gabriel Said Reynolds, “Introduction,” in The Qur’ān, ed. Reynolds, 12ff. Most scholars now disagree with Wansbrough’s conclusion that the Qur’ān reached closure in the eighth or ninth century. See Sinai, The Qur’an, 40–77; Sinai, Rain-Giver, 1ff. See also Devin Stewart, “Wansbrough, Bultmann, and the Theory of Variant Traditions in the Qur’ān,” in Qur’ānic Studies Today, ed. Neuwirth and Sells, 18–19; also Harald Motzki, “Alternative Accounts of the Qur’ān’s Formation,” in Cambridge Companion, ed. McAuliffe, 59ff.; Berg, “Implications,” 3–22. Still, Wansbrough’s work, we should note, is insightful and continues to drive major arguments in the study of early Islam. 14 Seyfeddin Kara, “Contemporary Shi’i Approaches to the History of the Text of the Qur’ān,” in New Trends, ed. Sirry, 117–118. 15 Al-Masᶜūdī, al-Tanbīh, 198–199. Al-Masᶜūdī refers to the ḥadīth regarding the number of the imams and explains that, because of Sulaym, the Shīᶜite imams are counted twelve. It should be noted, however, that al-Masᶜūdī does not challenge or debate the authenticity of Kitāb Sulaym, nor does he shed doubts on its authorship. On al-Masᶜūdī and his works, see al-ᶜAẓmah, Al-Masᶜūdī, 15–42. On whether the number is twelve or thirteen, see the modern study of Shīᶜite scholar Jaᶜfar al-Subḥānī, Kuliyyāt fī ᶜilm al-rijāl, 283, where he attempts to harmonize the two numbers. He claims, according to tradition, they are thirteen when we add Zayd ibn ᶜAlī ibn al-Ḥusayn to the twelve, or when we count twelve of ᶜAlī’s sons and grandsons in addition to ᶜAlī himself. Al-Subḥānī’s claim is built on the classical claim given by al-Najāshī, Rijāl, 440. See Baḥr al-ᶜUlūm, al-Fawā’id, 2:96. 16 Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 219, where he also upholds the book was only narrated by Abān ibn Abī ᶜAyyāsh, who rescued Sulaym in his distressful days. See also Djebli, “Sulaym b. Kays,” EI2, 9:818– 819; al-Ziriklī, al-Aᶜlām, 3:119. 17 Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 219. This should be viewed as political Shīᶜism rather than the religious dogmatic shīᶜī veneration. See Petersen, ᶜAlī, 50, where he rightly observes that, during the early
Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads 37 but does not appear to be concerned with the authenticity of the book or its authorship. Thus, al-Masᶜūdī and Ibn al-Nadīm, both born in ᶜAbbāsid Baghdad, were aware of the book and clearly ascribed its authorship to a Kūfan pro-ᶜAlid figure named Sulaym ibn Qays. Moreover, in ᶜilm al-rijāl (the study of men) works, particularly among the Shīᶜites,18 Sulaym ibn Qays and his book are acclaimed.19 He is reported to have died in ah 76, yet some claim he lived until ah 95 and was not only a contemporary of the first imam ᶜAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib (d. 40/661), but also of the three (or perhaps four) succeeding imams: al-Ḥasan (d. 49/669), al-Ḥusayn (d. 61/680), ᶜAlī ibn al- Ḥusayn (d. ca. 92/711), and Muhammad al-Bāqir (d. ca. 115/732).20 Still, Kitāb Sulaym should be approached cautiously, as even some classical Shīᶜite authorities were uncertain about it. The renowned Shīᶜite al-Shaykh al-Mufīd (d. 413/1022) warns that the book is unreliable, as it contains both authentic and forged traditions.21 Yet, al-Mufīd does not deny
decades of the second/eighth century, “The [Shīᶜite] religious veneration, however, hardly plays any part as yet, even though there may have been tentative approaches in that respect.” See also Walī, Athar al-tashayyuᶜ, 13–18; Yāsīn, al-Sulṭa fī al-islām, 88ff. On Shīᶜism and its political and religious origins, see Amīn, Fajr al-islām, 317–332; Amīn, Ḍuḥā al-islām, 3:208–315. See also Crone, Medieval, 70ff.; Black, History, 40ff.; Watt, Islamic Philosophy, 14ff.; Kennedy, Caliphate, 175; Robinson, Islamic Civilization, 31; Hodgson, “How,” 1–13. Patricia Crone distinguishes ᶜAlids from Shīᶜites and Shīᶜism in her recent work Nativist Prophets, 109–115, 119ff., 192ff., 219ff., 495ff., where she refers to the ᶜAlids as a political group comprising descendants of ᶜAlī, and describes later Shīᶜism as “the form of Islam which holds the Prophet’s family to be the only source of true religio-political leaders [imams] of the Muslim community found in many forms.” For the beginning of the shīᶜa as ᶜAlī’s party and their identification as a religio-political opposition, see Halm, Shīᶜism, 1–27, and 154ff. for a discussion on the extreme Shīᶜites; Amīn, Ẓuhr, 797ff. See also Mohammad Nafissi, “Shiism and Politics,” in Routledge Handbook, ed. Haynes, 102–120, where he discusses the rise of Shīᶜism and its political and theological aspects. Hamid Dabashi studies the history of the shīᶜa of ᶜAlī and discusses Shīᶜism as a religion of protest which succeeded mainly as a warring stance and lost legitimacy once they took power. Dabashi, Shiᶜism, 47ff., 103ff. See also Enayat, Modern, 18ff., where he highlights the spirit of Shīᶜism and its split with Sunnism. 18 Four important books among the Shīᶜites emerged in the fifth century: Najāshī’s Rijāl and al- Ṭūsī’s three books Fihrist, Rijāl, and Ikhtiyār maᶜrifat al-rijāl (abridgement of Rijāl al-Kashshī). These books claim to rely on earlier sources in the same field. 19 See al-Najāshī (d. 450/1058), Rijāl, 8 (entry #4); al-Ṭūsī (d. 460/1068), Fihrist, 81. See also al- Ṣadūq, Kitāb man lā yaḥḍuruh al-faqīh, 4:189, where he refers to traditions attributed to Sulaym ibn Qays, although al-Ṣadūq does not generally provide the isnād (chain of informants); also the modern Shīᶜite study Baḥr al-ᶜUlūm, al-Fawā’id, 2:96. See Moktar Djebli, “Sulaym b. Kays,” in EI2, 9:818– 819. It should be noted that Djebli is mistaken when he states, “apart from Ibn al-Nadīm, of the older biographers, only a few Shīᶜīs mention him, and then only in a very terse and laconic fashion.” Abū al-Ḥasan al-Masᶜūdī (d. 345/956) was at least four generations prior to Ibn al-Nadīm. 20 See al-Ṭūsī (d. 460/1068), Fihrist, 81; al-Ṭūsī, Rijāl, 66, where Sulaym is considered one of the disciples of ᶜAlī, directly narrating from him. See also al-Ṭūsī, Rijāl, 94, 101, 114, 136, for Sulaym’s contact with the following imams. See also al-Barqī, Rijāl, 9. The Rijāl of al-Barqī is considered one of the eight most foundational sources on ᶜilm al-rijāl in Twelver Shīᶜism. See al-Subḥānī, Kulliyyāt fī ᶜilm al-rijāl, 55ff. 21 Al-Mufīd, Taṣḥīḥ iᶜtiqādāt al-imāmiyya, 149–150.
38 Conversion to Islam its early date. Ibn al-Ghaḍā’irī (d. before 450/1058) acknowledges the fame of the book and its author—especially among the Shīᶜites—but provides three reasons for his distrust of its authenticity and concludes that “it is definitely mawḍūᶜ (forged).”22 Like Ibn al-Ghaḍā’irī, Ibn al-Muṭahhar al- Ḥillī (d. 726/1325) adopts the same skepticism.23 These medieval Shīᶜite scholars have influenced modern researchers regarding Kitāb Sulaym. However, their observations should be read against the backdrop of other well-known and important classical biographers, including al-Masᶜūdī and Ibn al-Nadīm (both lived in the fourth hijrī century), who acknowledged the book’s existence and ascribed its authorship to Sulaym.24 The skepticism of some classical Shīᶜite scholars regarding Sulaym’s work could merely reflect the existence of opposing trends within Shīᶜism itself, which is expected.25 Furthermore, the conversion reports within Kitāb Sulaym, which are the focal point of this investigation, are not exclusive to his book. Similar incidents appeared in other Shīᶜite works throughout history.26 The controversy around Kitāb Sulaym continues in recent scholarship. The leading Shīᶜite scholar Hossein Modarressi, professor of Near Eastern studies at Princeton, is among those who are skeptical about the authorship, but not about the book’s early date or authenticity. He views Sulaym as a fabricated figure, yet argues that the book “is the oldest surviving
22 Ibn al-Ghaḍā’irī, Rijāl, 63–64. 23 Ibn al-Muṭahhar al-Ḥillī (d. 726/1325), Khulāṣat al-aqwāl fī maᶜrifat ᶜilm al-rijāl, 223–224. On Ibn al-Muṭahhar al-Ḥillī, see Sabine Schmidtke, “Hasan Ibn Yusuf Ibn al-Mutahhar al-Hilli,” in Medieval, ed. Meri and Bacharach, 1:324–325. Ibn al-Muṭahhar almost copied Ibn al-Ghaḍā’irī’s information. Similarly, according to Amir-Moezzi, Ibn al-Ghaḍā’irī’s information was used by two seventh/thirteenth-century authors: Ibn Abī al-Ḥadīd (d. 656/1258) and Ibn Dāwūd al-Ḥillī (d. after 707/ 1307). Amir-Moezzi, The Silent Qur’ān, 16. 24 Amir-Moezzi rightly observes that “defenders of the historical existence of Sulaym and of the authenticity of his book are numerous, especially, as must needs be, among Imami Shi’ites.” Amir- Moezzi, The Silent Qur’ān, 14. See also the statements of al-Majlisī, Biḥār al-anwār, 23:124, 33:321, et passim, where he refers to Sulaym ibn Qays and affirms the authenticity of Kitāb Sulaym by quoting it repeatedly. 25 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 52–53, 68, 72, 88, where he refers to various dynamic and opposing groups within Shīᶜism. He also explains that, around the opening decades of the eighth century (the time of Sulaym’s flourishing), there was a rise of extremist groups such as al-ghulāt and al-rāfiḍā, which proved decisive in the Shīᶜite “oppositional movements” (52). Within opposing Shīᶜite groups, it is expected that contradicting opinions of a Shīᶜite work would exist. It should be noted, however, that Petersen (published 1964) was not aware of Kitāb Sulaym. 26 For a valuable note on tracing themes in historical narratives, see Donner, Narratives, 145, where he asserts, “it does not matter whether the material is gathered as a discrete and strictly delimited book, or only as a collection of notes on that topic.” As will be discussed later in the chapter, Sulaym ibn Qays mentions four specific literary incidents related to conversion to Islam: the earliest male to accept Islam, conversion of mawālī and aᶜājim, the meaning of becoming Muslim, and conversion after the conquest of Mecca. All these occurrences are common in historical writing and appear in other Shīᶜite works, such as Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim’s Waqᶜat Ṣiffīn, 89, 118, 214–216, 530.
Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads 39 Shīᶜite book and one of the rare examples of works surviving from the Umayyad period.”27 However, some contemporary Shīᶜite scholars disagree with Modarressi, specifically regarding Sulaym as the author. Mohammad Amir-Moezzi, a leading Shīᶜite scholar at the École Pratique des Hautes Études, examines the multiple strata of the book and dismisses Modarressi’s argument that Sulaym never actually existed, as it “radically rejects a rich bibliographical and prosopographical tradition.”28 Amir- Moezzi, after examining the role of the Iranian mawālī (clients) in the reception and transmission of the work, defends the work’s authenticity and argues that Sulaym did exist and “might have served as a ‘cipher’ to designate the Alids of Kufa at the end of the Umayyad period.”29 The controversy, so far, centers on the authorship, but not the time of publication. Both scholars concede the early date of the work. Furthermore, Amir- Moezzi observes that many scholars, including Modarressi, have mistakenly complied uncritically with the skepticism of Ibn al-Ghaḍā’irī and ignored the fact that “from the third/ninth century onward, Sulaym is frequently cited by Shi’ite authors and particularly by the compilers of traditions.”30 Amir-Moezzi offers numerous examples which aim to refute the skeptical claims, as he argues that the Imāmīs considered Kitāb Sulaym to be within the “Four Hundred Original Works,” and draws attention to its acknowledgment by many classical scholars.31 In strong support of Amir-Moezzi’s arguments, Patricia Crone, a notable skeptical scholar, is 27 Modarressi, Tradition, 83, where he states, “It is, however, obvious that Sulaym never existed and that the name is only a pen name used for the sole purpose of launching an anti-Umayyad polemic in the troublesome later years of that dynasty” (82–83). Similarly, see Dakake, “Writing,” 186ff.; Dakake, “Loyalty,” 346ff. For a modern Shīᶜite perspective, see Amīnī, Kitāb al-ghadīr, 2:106. The Kitāb al-ghadīr is highly respected and valued by today’s Shīᶜites. It is more like an encyclopedia (eleven volumes), which aims to establish and defend ᶜAlī’s rightful succession after Muhammad, based on the Qur’ān and sound traditions. 28 Amir-Moezzi, The Silent Qur’ān, 16. He questions Modarressi’s skepticism regarding Sulaym, and asserts, “even if the attribution of authorship is problematic, the putative author must have really existed and been respected by the Alids, otherwise what legitimacy could a writing ascribed to a fictitious person have possessed?” (17). 29 Amir-Moezzi, The Silent Qur’ān, 17. It should be noted that, even though Amir-Moezzi supports the authenticity of the book, as a learned scholar he does not deny the existence of “successive redactions” (18). On the role of the mawālī in the transmission of Kitāb Sulaym, see Crone, “Mawālī,” 184ff. On the issue of how the mawālī, including Ibn Isḥāq, al-Wāqidī, al-Balādhurī, Yaᶜqūbi, and others, were key figures in historical writing among Muslims, see Muṣṭafā, al-Ta’rīkh al-ᶜarabī wa- l-mu’arrikhūn, 87; Gibb, Studies, 112. See also the comments of Hoyland, “Arabic,” 233, where he explains the concerns of the Arab historians about the role of the non-Arab mawālī, who “held all the important positions in the land.” 30 Amir-Moezzi, The Silent Qur’ān, 18. 31 Amir-Moezzi, The Silent Qur’ān, 18. On the “Four Hundred Original Works,” see Kohlberg, “al- Uṣūl al-arbaᶜumi’a,” in Ḥadīth, ed. Motzki, 109ff.
40 Conversion to Islam also convinced regarding the work’s early creation, and concludes that the author “probably wrote before 762, but in any case not after 780s.”32 Like Crone, Maria Dakake provides a valuable assessment of Sulaym’s work, and argues, “While Kitāb Sulaym has been particularly subject to later tampering—as Imamite authorities themselves have recognized—it is nonetheless a source which contains some important pre-ᶜAbbasid Shiᶜite material and was probably compiled some time between the year 122 and 132 ah.”33 Therefore, whether one is sanguine or skeptical about ascribing the book’s authorship to Sulaym,34 it is plausible to acknowledge the relevance of the book and its early date. It is also reasonable to conclude that this early source is driven by pro-ᶜAlid and anti-Umayyad sympathies.35 I argue that, for our purposes of tracing conversion themes in Islamic historiography, Kitāb Sulaym is crucially valuable for at least three reasons. First, the text not only reflects the Umayyad period but also provides the earliest extant manifestations of conversion to Islam in Islamic sources. Whether Sulaym is real, fake, or a cipher, the text itself genuinely reflects the Umayyad era, and its accounts on conversion are among the earliest.36 Second, the book is not only from the Umayyad era but is precisely 32 Crone, “Mawālī,” 179. See also the valuable comments on Crone’s position offered by Amir- Moezzi, The Silent Qur’ān, 19–20. 33 Dakake, “Loyalty,” 32. See also the appendix of her dissertation, “Dating and Evaluating Kitāb Sulaym b. Qays al-Hilālī,” 346ff. 34 As discussed in Chapter 1, these are the two major scholarly groups in modern research on Islamic origins. See Donner, “Introduction,” in The Expansion, ed. Donner, xxviii; Donner, Narratives, 5–20. Kennedy, The Prophet, 347ff.; Hoyland, In God’s Path, 231ff; Herbert Berg, “Competing Paradigms,” in Methods and Theories, ed. Berg, 260. 35 Sulaym’s text is clearly anti-Umayyad. He often curses Abū Bakr, ᶜUmar, ᶜUthmān, ᶜĀ’isha, and Muᶜāwiya. See Kitāb Sulaym, 74–75, 166, 279, et passim; also Dakake, “Loyalty,” 347. The so-called tabarrī or barā’a is a Shīᶜite theological term and practice which refer to dissociating oneself from the evil enemies of Allah by openly cursing them at times. For a contemporary example, see the lengthy study of the Kuwaiti Shīᶜite cleric Yāsir al-Ḥabīb, al-Fāḥisha, 103ff., et passim, where he lists the evil deeds of Muhammad’s wife ᶜĀ’isha and the first three caliphs as he repeatedly curses them, identifying them as enemies of Allah. Similarly, see Moroccan scholar Idrīs al-Ḥusaynī, al-Khilāfa al-mughtaṣaba, 69–112; also Lebanese scholar ᶜAlī al-Kūrānī, Ajwibat masā’il, 5–8, 33–35, 78–85. On the Shīᶜite practice of cursing the early caliphs, see Kohlberg, “Barā’a,” 139–175; Kohlberg, “The Term ‘Rāfiḍa,’ ” 1–9. For primary sources on the tabarrī, see al-Kulaynī, al-Kāfī, 1:404, 2:244–245, and 8:246, where he states that Abū Bakr and ᶜUmar died in their kufr (unbelief) without repentance and thus the author cursed them. See also al-Ṭūsī, Ikhtiyār maᶜrifat al-rijāl, 6–11. 36 For a helpful discussion on authorship of historical writing, particularly sīra and maghāzī works, see Andreas Görke, “Authorship in the Sīra Literature,” in Concepts, ed. Behzadi and Hämeen- Anttila, 63ff., where he attempts to address the reason for the scholarly disagreement on “what an author actually is” and argues that “this question is difficult to answer with regard to early Islamic literature in general and the sīra literature in particular.” He provides four reasons for the difficulties of determining authorship—all are due to “the character of early Islamic literature”: (1) the compilatory nature of the sīra literature, namely, a compilation of short textual units from various origins, (2) the role of the akhbāriyyūn (narrators) and how they are expected to be disconnected from the main narrative, (3) the questionable oral element in transmission, and (4) the essential confusion within the character of the sīra itself between “history, salvation history and fiction.”
Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads 41 pro-ᶜAlid in its orientation.37 Considering the pro-Umayyad and non-Shīᶜite perspectives present in the few remaining Umayyad accounts (like those of al-Zuhrī and Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba), as well as the numerous ᶜAbbāsid sources, this early Shīᶜite source is invaluable. It is the first work produced by ᶜAlī’s supporters (Ar. shīᶜat ᶜAlī) and also, and probably more importantly so, the earliest extant complete historiographical Muslim work. Third, while it is acknowledged that the book underwent later redactions, its value remains for the topic under scrutiny: conversion to Islam.38 The conversion incidents mentioned by Sulaym are not unique to his work; all appear in later works. The significance of their occurrence in Sulaym’s work, however, is that they were the focus of Muslims in the first/seventh century.
Ibn Shihāb al-Zuhrī (d. 124/741) The renowned traditionist Muḥammad ibn Shihāb al-Zuhrī (d. 124/741) was born in Medina in 58/677 during the reign of Muᶜāwiya ibn Abī Sufyān (r. 41/ 661–61/680) and later moved to Syria, where he died during the caliphate of Hishām ibn ᶜAbd al-Malik (r. 105/724–125/743).39 He studied directly under a few ṣaḥāba (Prophet’s companions) and various tābiᶜūn (followers); thus, various early ḥadīth critics considered him thiqa (reliable) and placed him among the tābiᶜūn.40 He reportedly produced a wealth of historical notes. Ibn Saᶜd writes that the Umayyad Caliph al-Walīd (d. 96/715) kept in his safe 37 See Dakake, “Loyalty,” 346, where she concludes, “The book is primarily concerned with presenting a historical case for the superiority of ᶜAlī and for the injustice which he suffered in being denied his right to the caliphate.” See also Crone, Medieval, 70ff.; Amir-Moezzi, The Silent Qur’ān, 16ff. 38 See Donner, Narratives, 145. 39 The reason traditionally given for his move from Medina to Syria is that he was from a poor family and had debts. Al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 5:330, 5:340. Other dates are given for his birth year: 50/ 670 (al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 5:326; al-Dhahabī, Tadhkirat al-ḥuffāẓ, 1:83), and 51/671 (Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ṭabaqāt, 1:454), but both place his birth during the reign of the first Umayyad caliph. The significance is that he lived and flourished completely during the Umayyad Dynasty and was highly connected with the ruling elites. Al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 5:331; al-Dhahabī, Tadhkirat, 1:83–85; al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 8:11. 40 As early as al-ᶜIjlī (d. 261/874) and Ibn Abī Ḥātim al-Rāzī (d. 327/939), al-Zuhrī was considered reliable. Al-ᶜIjlī, Ta’rīkh al-thiqāt, 412; Ibn Abī Ḥātim, al-Jarḥ wa-l-taᶜdīl, 8:71ff. On how ᶜUmar ibn ᶜAbd al-ᶜAzīz praised al-Zuhrī, see al-Fasawī, al-Maᶜrifa wa-l-tārīkh, 1:639; however, the caliph also knew that al-Zuhrī invented reports. See al-Harawī, Dhamm al-kalām wa ahlih, 3:3; Abū Zurᶜa al-Dimashqī, Ta’rīkh, 411. See the lengthy account of Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 55:294–388. On Zuhrī’s reliability and the list of his connections with companions and followers, see Ibn Ḥabīb, al-Muḥabbar, 476, where al-Zuhrī is one of ashrāf al-muᶜallimūn (notable teachers). See Sezgin, Ta’rīkh, 1:2:74–79, placing him among the Umayyad writers. See also the detailed account on al-Zuhrī by al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 5:326–350; al-Dhahabī, Tadhkirat al-ḥuffāẓ, 1:83–85; al-Ziriklī, al-Aᶜlām, 7:97. On attributing false accounts to previous authorities, see Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī (d. 626/1229), Muᶜjam al-udabā’,
42 Conversion to Islam a collection of al-Zuhrī’s numerous written dafātir (notebooks), which were carried on many animals after the caliph’s death, because of al-Zuhrī’s ᶜilm (knowledge).41 However, this does not suggest al-Zuhrī is universally accepted as reliable. In a letter to Mālik ibn Anas (d. 179/795), al-Layth ibn Saᶜd (d. 175/791) complains that al-Zuhrī provides contradicting accounts: When asked a question, al-Zuhrī gave three different answers and was unaware of his previous responses.42 At times, he would be asked about writings which he had never seen, to permit attributing their authorship to him, and he would agree.43 This indicates that, despite his conclusive fame, his accounts were of questionable reliability. However, we should also consider that he was criticized in various ᶜAbbāsid-era reports, which may indicate bias against a pro-Umayyad figure. The political situation during the Umayyad period influenced al-Zuhrī and his writing. He was reportedly of the Quraysh and known for preferring reports by the muhājirūn and al-anṣār over the mawālī.44 According to al-Dhahabī, al-Zuhrī was a key muḥaddith (traditionist) favored by ᶜAbd 3:1201–1204; Ibn al-Muᶜtazz, Ṭabaqāt al-shuᶜarā’, 69; Ibn Sallām al-Jumaḥī, Ṭabaqāt, 1:48. See also recent studies, including al-Raḥmān, Judhūr al-quwwa, 7–9, where he discusses the mythical and exaggerated elements in Islamic accounts; al-Raḥmān, al-Tārīkh wa-l-usṭūra; also Abū Rayya, Aḍwā’ ᶜalā al-sunna al-Muḥammadiyya, 85–92, where he identifies invented aḥādīth. See also Rashīd Aylāl, Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, 119; Brown, Misquoting, 216–222; and Brown, “Did the Prophet Say It,” 259–285; also the unique feminist position on the topic by Fatima Mernissi, Women and Islam, 25–48. 41 Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 2:297. Muṣṭafā, al-Ta’rīkh al-ᶜarabī wa-l-mu’arrikhūn, 1:157; al-Dūrī, Rise, 29. For ᶜilm, see Christopher Furlow, “ᶜilm is Islam: The Islamic Concept of Knowledge from Classical Traditions to Modern Interpretations,” in Deconstructing, ed. Daneshgar and Hughes, 145ff. 42 Yaḥyā ibn Maᶜīn, Ta’rīkh, 4:490. See Motzki, “Der Fiqh des Zuhrī,” where he considers cases of “genuine” and “spurious” traditions attributed to al-Zuhrī and discusses how al-Zuhrī’s name was “inserted in isnāds of traditions which did not yet exist in his time and from which fictitious statements on his supposed doctrine were abstracted.” 43 Yaḥyā ibn Maᶜīn, Ta’rīkh, 4:464, where it is reported, “They used to bring to al-Zuhrī writings which he never read or heard of, asking him whether they could narrate them on his authority, and he would agree.” See Schoeler, Biography, 23–26. Juynboll skeptically asserts, “it is no longer possible to sift the genuine Zuhrī traditions from the fabricated ones, or as is my contention, even the genuine Ibn Shihāb al-Zuhrī traditions from the possible hundreds of pseudo-Zuhrī ones.” Juynboll, Muslim, 158. It is obvious that Schoeler and Juynboll are considerably skeptical about al-Zuhrī’s accounts. On al-Zuhrī’s falsifying reports, see Petersen, ᶜAlī, 51. 44 Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 2:296–297; 5:352. For the tensions between the Arab Muslims and the mawālī, see the valuable study of Amīn, Ḍuḥā al-islām, 1:35–66, and his discussion on the shuᶜūbiyya (1:67ff.). On the shuᶜūbiyya, see al- Dūrī, al-Judhūr al-tārīkhiyya li-l-shuᶜūbiyya, 13ff.; Webb, Imagining, 246–249, 298–299, 312–313. The term shuᶜūbiyya refers to the anti-Arab tendencies advanced by the mawālī during the second and third Islamic centuries. See Bosworth, “Shuᶜūbiyya,” in Encyclopedia, ed. Meisami and Starkey, 2:717; also Enderwitz, “Shuᶜūbiyya,” EI2, 9:513ff, where al- shuᶜūbiyya is described as a movement created to deny the Quraysh’s claims to superiority and leadership. See also Dionisius Agius, “The Shuᶜūbiyya Movement,” 76–88; Gibb, Studies, 62–73; Zaydān, Ta’rīkh al-tamaddun al-islāmī, 4:424ff. (cf. 4:336–344, 4:372–376). For early primary sources aiming at resisting al-shuᶜūbiyya and stressing the excellence of the Arabs, see al-Jāḥiẓ (d. 255/869), al-Bayān wa-l-tabiyyīn, 2:5ff., where he devotes an entire section to respond critically to the shuᶜūbiyya; Ibn
Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads 43 al-Malik ibn Marwān (d. 86/705) and al-Ḥajjāj ibn Yūsuf (d. 96/714).45 Al- Zuhrī was reportedly connected with at least six Umayyad caliphs: ᶜAbd al-Malik ibn Marwān (r. 66/685–86/705), al-Walīd ibn ᶜAbd al-Malik (r. 86/705–96/715), Sulaymān ibn ᶜAbd al-Malik (r. 96/715–99/717), ᶜUmar ibn ᶜAbd al-ᶜAzīz (r. 99/717–101/720), Yazīd II (r. 101/720–105/724), and Hishām ibn ᶜAbd al-Malik (r. 105/724–125/743).46 He was favored by various Umayyad caliphs, as evidenced in the report that Yazīd II appointed him qāḍī (judge), while Hishām made him the personal teacher of the caliph’s children and their personal guide for religious pilgrimage.47 Al-Zuhrī was reportedly open about his pro-Umayyad inclinations in his writing.48 According to Ibn Saᶜd, al-Zuhrī complained he was “forced” by the Umayyad caliphs to create historical reports, which led him to allow other Muslims to do so.49 Further, we are told that al-Zuhrī left Medina for Damascus to pursue wealth in the caliphal capital.50 In Damascus, Caliph ᶜAbd al-Malik hired al-Zuhrī in his administration.51 This suggests a strong connection between al- Zuhrī and the caliphal power. Because of this Qutayba (d. 276/889), Faḍl al-ᶜarab, 56ff. The editors of Ibn Qutayba’s work, Peter Webb and James Montgomery, describe the work as “The spirited defense of the Arabs,” which “addresses us from an intellectually fertile but politically and socially precarious moment of early Islam” (x), serving “as a circling of the wagons to defend the social prestige of Arabness in the waning political system of the centralized Abbasid caliphate” (xiv). 45 See al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 5:327, where he states that the caliph and the governor influenced al- Zuhrī’s religious statements concerning fasting and praying during battles. Muṣṭafā, al-Ta’rīkh, 1:157. 46 Al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 5:331; al-Dhahabī, Tadhkirat al-ḥuffāẓ, 1:83–85. Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 55:294– 388. See also an earlier reference by Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 5:348–350. See Gibb, Studies, 111, where he explains that al-Zuhrī wrote his maghāzī traditions at the request of ᶜUmar ibn ᶜAbd al-ᶜAzīz (r. 99/ 717–101/720) or Hishām ibn ᶜAbd al-Malik (r. 105/724–125/743); the traditions “were deposited in the royal store-room.” On Gibb, see Badawī, Mawsūᶜat al-mustashriqīn, 174–176. 47 Al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 5:331; al-Dhahabī, Tadhkirat, 1:83; Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 5:350, where he states that, in 116/734, al-Zuhrī accompanied Hishām’s son to the pilgrimage in Mecca. See also Petersen, ᶜAlī, 51. However, it should be noted that some other Umayyads, including al-Walīd ibn Yazīd (r. 125/ 743–126/744), who succeeded his uncle Hishām, did not favor al-Zuhrī and sought to kill him. Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 5:356; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 5:341–342, where al-Zuhrī used to speak with the Caliph Hishām negatively about al-Walīd ibn Yazīd (also known as al-Walīd II). Al-Zuhrī died a few months before Hishām, who was succeeded by his nephew al-Walīd. On the tension between al-Zuhrī and al-Walīd II, see van Ess, Theology, 96. 48 See Anthony, Muhammad, 132–149. 49 As reported twice by Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 2:296, 5:352. On this report, see Schoeler, Écrire, 55; Schoeler, Oral, 122. See also Borrut, Entre, 17; Donner, Narratives, 276–282. Robinson rightly states that narrators “were not simply taking liberties with texts: they were generating the texts themselves.” Robinson, Historiography, 38. See also Décobert, Le Mendiant, 34, where he states, “une sédimentation est reparable.” See Borrut, “Vanishing Syria,” where he studies the ᶜAbbāsid’s reconstruction of the forgotten Umayyad past; cf. Hoyland, “Arabic,” 233, where he studies forging history. 50 See Muṣṭafā, al-Ta’rīkh, 1:157; Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 5:348–350; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 5:327. 51 See Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 5:348–350, where he writes of al-Zuhrī seeking wealth, his connection with the Caliph ᶜAbd al-Malik, and how al-Zuhrī served the two sons of ᶜAbd al-Malik, Sulaymān and Yazīd. The same account is found in al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 5:329ff; also Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 55:302ff.
44 Conversion to Islam connection, al-Zuhrī is usually known for being pro-Umayyad.52 This is evident in his reports which disapprove of ᶜAlī.53 Consequently, the Shīᶜite authority al-Ṭūsī considers al-Zuhrī an enemy to the Shīᶜites, particularly to the Imam ᶜAlī ibn al-Ḥusayn.54 In short, he is commonly known for his pro- Umayyad and anti-ᶜAlid accounts.55 Relying on aḥādīth, al-Zuhrī was the earliest to coin the term sīra in relation to the Prophet’s life.56 His reports on Muhammad’s maghāzī are considered the earliest Arabic documentation of Muhammad’s life and military career. To al-Zuhrī and ᶜUrwa ibn al-Zubayr (d. 94/712), the Medinan school of maghāzī’s historical writing is indebted.57 According to ᶜAbd al-ᶜAzīz al-Dūrī, while ᶜUrwa was the founder of maghāzī studies,58 it was al-Zuhrī who founded the Medinan historical school of thought and influenced two On the abundance of wealth obtained by Muslims after the conquests, see al-Māwardī, al-Aḥkām al- sulṭāniyya, 297; al-Dīnawarī, Kitāb al-akhbār al-ṭiwāl, 141; ᶜAbd al-Karīm, Shadwu, 2:113. 52 Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 42:227–228, where Al-Zuhrī is being accused of taking prizes from Banū Umayya: māl ilā banī umayya wa akhadh jawā’izihim (he leaned toward Banū Umayya and received their gifts). See also Petersen, ᶜAlī, 51, 124, where al-Zuhrī is identified as a pro-Syrian traditionist who served the Umayyads. See also Judd, Religious Scholars, 52–61, where al-Zuhrī is one of the “pillars of Umayyad piety.” 53 Ibn Hilāl al-Thaqafī, Kitāb al-ghārāt, 395–396; Ibn Ḥibbān (d. 354/965), al-Majrūḥīn, 1:258. However, we should note that al-Zuhrī is reported to have favored the fourth Shīᶜite Imam, ᶜAlī ibn al-Ḥusayn Zayn al-ᶜĀbidīn (d. 95/714). See Abū Zurᶜa al-Dimashqī, Ta’rīkh, 413; Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 5:165; Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh Dimashq, 41:398. Abū Ḥāmid al-Ghazālī (d. 505/1111) reports a letter sent by Imam ᶜAlī ibn al-Ḥusayn to al-Zuhrī after the latter had khālaṭ al-sulṭān (accompanied and intermingled with the Sultan, i.e., ᶜAbd al-Malik ibn Marawān). In the letter, the imam warns al- Zuhrī to pay attention to the eternal judgment, as wealth and power will not help on the Day of Judgement. Al-Ghazālī, Iḥyā’ ᶜulūm al-dīn, 2:143; see also the same report in al-Iṣfahānī, Ḥilyat al- awliyā’, 3:246. On hating ᶜAlī as a sign of hypocrisy, see al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 236ff., where al-Dhahabī narrates on the account of Saᶜīd and Jābir ibn ᶜAbdullāh, mā kunnā naᶜrif munāfiqī hadhih al-umma illā bi-bughḍuhim ᶜAliyyan (we identified the hypocrites of this umma by nothing more than their loathing ᶜAlī). 54 Al-Ṭūsī, Rijāl, 119, where the author identifies Ibn Shihāb al-Zuhrī as ᶜaduw (an enemy) of the imam. 55 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 51, 55–57, 124. Reflecting on the various extant versions of the first civil war, Petersen argues that the “Syrian tradition,” like that of al-Zuhrī, “showed but very little viability and was suppressed very early by the Abbasid and Shiite tradition” (109). See also Judd, Religious Scholars, 52–61. 56 Al-Dūrī, Rise, 27–28. Muṣṭafā, al-Ta’rīkh, 1:157–158. 57 Al-Dūrī, Rise, 76. Regarding ᶜUrwa ibn al-Zubayr, see al-Iṣfahānī, Ḥilyat al-awliyā’, 2:176–183. It is reported that al-Zuhrī’s father was pro-Zubayrī and a fervent supporter of the anti-Muᶜāwiya’s opposition. This reflects not only the political sympathies of al-Zuhrī’s father but also one reason for the strong connection between ᶜUrwa and al-Zuhrī. Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 5:349. On the Medinan school of maghāzī and al-Zuhrī, see Petersen, ᶜAlī, 25, 55–57. Linguistically, the term maghāzī refers to raids and expeditions; however, in early Islamic writings it encompassed the entirety of Muhammad’s life and prophetic career. See Hinds, Studies, 188ff.; Gibb, Studies, 111–112; al-Dūrī, Rise, 24, 76. 58 Al-Dūrī, Rise, 25. Al-Dūrī presents a thorough study on the earliest development of maghāzī, particularly the earliest reports of ᶜUrwa, who was not very concerned with the isnād, which demonstrates the concerns of his days (23–25). For more on ᶜUrwa, see al-Dūrī, Rise, 90–100, 132– 133; Donner, Narratives, 148; Robinson, Historiography, 19, 23–24.
Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads 45 authorities on Muhammad’s sīra, Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba (d. 141/758) and Ibn Isḥāq (d. 151/761).59 Chase Robinson observes that al-Zuhrī was not only a true historian by any fair assessment of the term, but also a significant figure in eclipsing oral history with written accounts on sīra and maghāzī: This was likely due to ᶜUmar ibn ᶜAbd al-ᶜAzīz’s request to write down the ḥadīth.60 It is commonly accepted that there are no available sources directly written by al-Zuhrī, as his accounts survive only in later sources.61 However, the Syrian historian Suhayl Zakkār (1936–2020) reveals that, on one of his trips to Fes, Morocco, he examined Kitāb al-muṣannaf by ᶜAbd al-Razzāq al-Ṣanᶜānī (d. 211/744) and found a specific section dedicated to kitāb al- Zuhrī fī al-maghāzī.62 After years of dedicated work, Zakkār’s edited text of al-Zuhrī’s Maghāzī was published in Damascus in 1981. Zakkār, in his Arabic taḥqīq (scholarly edition), claims that this is “the most correct narrative and the earliest account known to date concerning Muhammad’s sīra and maghāzī.”63 Fifteen years later, Gregor Schoeler also noted al-Zuhrī’s maghāzī as a section in ᶜAbd al-Razzāq’s Muṣannaf.64 Schoeler explained that this section on maghāzī is documented by ᶜAbd al-Razzāq al-Ṣanᶜānī based
59 Al-Dūrī, Rise, 25. Like al-Dūrī, Shākir Muṣṭafā adopts the argument of the two major historiographical schools in al-Ta’rīkh, 1:149–200. This theory of two historiographical schools, Medina and Kūfa, is problematic and disputed by many scholars. Noth convincingly refutes it. He traces “comparable material” between the two: “As far as their view of history is concerned, therefore, no single one of the collections can be considered as a self contained unit.” Noth/Conrad, Early, 17. Furthermore, Borrut provides examples of exchange between the so-called historiographical schools, suggesting the existence of common core information concerning the early history of Islam. Borrut, Entre, 35. See also Robinson, “The Conquest of Khūzistān,” 38; Mourad, “On Early,” 588; Petersen, ᶜAlī, 25. A similar conclusion of comparable material between Islamic centers is given by Melchert, “Basra and Kufa,” 173–191, although, in this case, he examines Baṣra and Kūfa. For the importance of the Medinan school, especially in the earliest period, see Gibb, Mohammedanism, 109. 60 Robinson, Historiography, 25; Schoeler, Oral, 81, 122; Mālik ibn Anas, Muwaṭṭa’, 1:330; al- Dārimī, Musnad, 1:431; Ibn Ḥajar, Fatḥ al-bārī, 1:208, where al-Zuhrī is not only the first to write down the ḥadīth but also the first of one hundred traditionists aiming at tadwīn al-ḥadīth (writing the ḥadīth down) under the instruction of ᶜUmar II. 61 Robinson, Historiography, 25; Schoeler, Charakter, 32ff.; Schoeler, Biography, 23–26; Schoeler, Oral. 62 See Zakkār’s introduction of al-Zuhrī’s Maghāzī, 22. On the link between al-Zuhrī, Maᶜmar, and ᶜAbd al-Razzāq, see Ibn Ḥibbān, Thiqāt, 7:484; Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 59:390–422. On ᶜAbd al- Razzāq al-Ṣanᶜānī’s Muṣannaf, see the important study of Harald Motzki, “Muṣannaf,” 1–21, where he argues positively for the value of this early source, and writes, “we are now able to raise the question of the historical value of the hadīth texts anew” (21). 63 See Zakkār’s introduction of al-Zuhrī’s al-Maghāzī, 22. According to Zakkār, the Kitāb al- muṣannaf was published in the 1960s in Beirut, but, when he compared it with the manuscript, he found many textual errors in the published edition. Rather than writing an article about the mistakes, he decided to do a specific work on Kitāb al-Zuhrī fī al-maghāzī as found in Kitāb al-muṣannaf by ᶜAbd al-Razzāq al-Ṣanᶜānī, which resulted in the Arabic scholarly version used in this study. 64 Schoeler’s comments first appeared in his 1996 German work Charakter und Authentic, later translated as The Biography of Muhammad: Nature and Authenticity, 25.
46 Conversion to Islam on a narration of his most prominent Baṣran teacher, Maᶜmar ibn Rāshid (d. 153/770), who was a devoted student of al-Zuhrī.65 This same manuscript of ᶜAbd al-Razzāq’s Muṣannaf was recently revisited by Western scholars. In particular, al-Zuhrī’s section on maghāzī was edited and translated into English by Sean Anthony in a book titled The Expeditions (2015). Anthony, it should be noted, attributes the Maghāzī not to al-Zuhrī but to his student Maᶜmar ibn Rāshid (d. 153/770).66 Anthony still views Kitāb al-maghāzī positively, observes that it is “an early written work of the second/eighth century,” and argues for its “multifaceted” importance.67 Harald Motzki, based on a sample of 1499 texts of Maᶜmar in ᶜAbd al-Razzāq’s Muṣannaf, takes a sanguine approach and confidently trusts that Maᶜmar included generally authentic accounts of al-Zuhrī. This is especially significant when one considers that the Baṣran Maᶜmar, who generally preferred scholars from Baṣra, chose a Medinan scholar, al-Zuhrī, as one of his main informants. Motzki concludes, “the hypothesis that Maᶜmar forged his traditions appears very unlikely.”68 Of course, Motzki represents a sanguine approach to the source’s reliability. Like Motzki, Schoeler adopts a positive view of al-Zuhrī’s accounts and states, “Today we can safely say that a considerable part of al-Zuhrī’s source indications are authentic.”69 Despite the abovementioned positive views of Zuhrī’s Kitāb al-maghāzī and its existence in two Arabic scholarly editions,70 one should not ignore the 65 Schoeler observes that ᶜAbd al-Razzāq al-Ṣanᶜānī gained all of the maghāzī material from his teacher, Maᶜmar, who, in turn, had obtained “roughly half of his traditions from his teacher az- Zuhrī.” Schoeler, Biography, 25. It should be noted that Maᶜmar ibn Rāshid was originally from Baṣra and moved to Yemen, where he met with ᶜAbd al-Razzāq. The primary author of the manuscript is Maᶜmar ibn Rāshid, who was celebrated as a scholar of ḥadīth, fiqh, and tafsīr, precisely learning from al-Zuhrī. On Maᶜmar, see Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 5:546, 7:361; Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ṭabaqāt, 1:520; al-ᶜIjlī, Ta’rīkh al-thiqāt, 1:435; Ibn Abī Ḥātim, al-Jarḥ, 8:255; Ibn Ḥibbān, Thiqāt, 7:484; Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 59:390–422; Ibn Khallikān, Wafayāt, 3:216; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 7:5ff.; Ibn Ḥajar, Tahdhīb, 10:243–246. See also al-Ziriklī, Aᶜlām, 7:272; Kaḥḥāla, Muᶜjam, 12:309. If Maᶜmar was a devoted student of al-Zuhrī, it should be noted that he lived under the ᶜAbbāsids, unlike his teacher; thus, Petersen views Maᶜmar as pro-ᶜAbbāsid. Petersen, ᶜAlī, 85. 66 See Maᶜmar ibn Rāshid and ᶜAbd al-Razzāq al-Ṣanᶜānī, Expeditions. For a critical review of the work, see Michael Lecker, “A Review of The Expeditions,” 854–857, where he criticizes the skeptical approach to historiography and states that it “is sometimes argued that there was a wide gap between Muḥammad’s life and the beginning of historiography, but there was no such gap.” 67 See Anthony’s introduction to Maᶜmar ibn Rāshid and ᶜAbd al-Razzāq al- Ṣanᶜānī, The Expeditions, xxix. 68 Motzki, Analysing, 5. On Maᶜmar as a source of al-Zuhrī, see 4–11. In another work, Motzki argues, “Only starting with al-Zuhrī (d. 124/742) can authentic Medinese doctrines be established with some certainty.” Motzki, The Origins, 27. See also Motzki, “Dating,” 240; Motzki, “Muṣannaf,” 3. Unlike the sanguine approach of Motzki, see a more skeptical approach by Shoemaker, “In Search,” 257–344. 69 Schoeler, “Mūsā b. ᶜUqba’s Maghāzī,” 94. 70 See Zakkār’s introduction of al-Zuhrī’s al-Maghāzī, 22; Anthony’s introduction to Maᶜmar ibn Rāshid and ᶜAbd al-Razzāq al-Ṣanᶜānī, The Expeditions, xxix, where he views Kitāb al-maghāzī “as
Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads 47 heated scholarly debate regarding authorship of the earliest sīra or maghāzī works.71 This debate is a clear reflection of the two major approaches to Islamic historiography— traditional (sanguine) and revisionist (skeptical)—as scholars disagree on the reliability of the sources and differ in their presuppositions on authenticity and authorship.72 In our case, the debate would question whether the Kitāb al-maghāzī is a true representation of al-Zuhrī and his time period. It would skeptically question who the author was: Was he al-Zuhrī (d. 124/741), Maᶜmar ibn Rāshid (d. 153/770), ᶜAbd al-Razzāq al-Ṣanᶜānī (d. 211/744), or another person entirely? In a sense, the debate, as well as the sanguine and revisionist approaches, is evident in how Zakkār attributes the Maghāzī to al-Zuhrī, while Anthony to Maᶜmar. Anthony, although he supports the importance of the work, questions the “preservation” of the text and asserts that “none of the second/eighth-century works of Arabic historical writing survives into modern times, save in later recensions,” and argues that Kitāb al-maghāzī is better viewed as “an artifact of a series of teacher-pupil relationships between three renowned scholars,” i.e., al-Zuhrī, Maᶜmar, and ᶜAbd al-Razzāq.73 This scholarly debate is not irrelevant or simplistic, especially when we consider that al-Zuhrī was clearly pro-Umayyad, while Maᶜmar was pro-ᶜAbbāsid and perhaps a Muᶜtazilite.74
an indispensable window onto how early [precisely second/eighth-century] Muslims attempted to articulate a vision of their Prophet and sacred history.” 71 See, for instance, the debate between Stephen Shoemaker, on the one hand, and Gregor Schoeler, Harald Motzki, and Andreas Görke, on the other. Görke et al., “First,” 2–59; Shoemaker, “In Search,” 257–344. The three scholars argue “for the possibility that authentic traditions of the first century of the Hijra can be reconstructed,” while Shoemaker insists that “While az-Zuhrī and occasionally other authorities of his generation can often be persuasively linked with the tradition in question, the reach back to ᶜUrwa is generally not convincing.” See also Hoyland, “History,” 16ff., where he studies the issues of “fiction and history” and the difference in the attitudes of Western studies and medieval Arabic literature toward the two, examining the scholarly debate among historians between “how the past was” and “how it was represented.” In how this debate is linked to the two historiographical approaches, traditional and skeptical, see Görke and Schoeler, “Reconstructing,” 209–220. For more on the question of “what an author actually is,” see Görke, “Authorship in the Sīra Literature,” in Concepts, ed. Behzadi and Hämeen-Anttila, 63ff. 72 On these two approaches, see my discussion in Chapter 1. See Donner, Narratives, 5ff., 287– 290; Kennedy, Prophet, 347ff.; Hoyland, In God’s Path, 231ff.; Humphreys, Islamic History, 87ff.; Robinson, Historiography, 152. See the arguments against the skeptical approach by Görke and Schoeler, “Reconstructing,” 209–220, where they defend their position and argue that “Criteria have to be found that allow one to distinguish between genuine material on the one hand and spurious or false material on the other hand” (211). For more on the development of scholarly works on Islamic origins, see Daniel, Islam, 294–301. 73 See Anthony’s introduction to Maᶜmar ibn Rāshid and ᶜAbd al-Razzāq al- Ṣanᶜānī, The Expeditions, xix. 74 See Petersen, ᶜAlī, 85, 73, 88, respectively. Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 59:415.
48 Conversion to Islam In my estimation, while the Maghāzī may truly represent one of the earliest available Muslim accounts of Muhammad’s life and raids, we should not ignore its delivery through later compilers who lived in different religious and sociopolitical contexts. Nonetheless, while I acknowledge this debate and its various angles, the source is valuable to our investigation. We should examine its text, while not undermining its textual and transmission problems. As Sarah Savant stated, “I prefer, then, the risk of overstating the plasticity of our sources for the benefit of querying them.”75 It should be reiterated that I am concerned with conversion themes in historical accounts, and, as Donner observes, when examining literary themes in historical narratives, “it does not matter whether the material is gathered as a discrete and strictly delimited book, or only as a collection of notes on that topic.”76 The Kitāb al-maghāzī is probably the earliest extant source we possess that details Muhammad’s prophetic career; this is a significant advantage. More important, the source is the earliest by a pro-Umayyad figure. This provides a tremendous opportunity for our study. For our purposes, what matters is that al-Zuhrī had likely a set of reports available to him, whether written or oral.77 From these reports, he selected a list of accounts to describe Muhammad’s life and raids and organized them in one place, which has become Kitāb al- maghāzī, attributed to al-Zuhrī.78 This selected set of accounts should presumably fit al-Zuhrī’s preferences and worldview and serve the requirements of the Umayyads. This is precisely what should be investigated. While the conversion occurrences in al-Zuhrī’s Kitāb al-maghāzī are not exclusive to his work (as they can be traced straightforwardly in other sources), it is crucial to examine his literary choices. We should scrutinize the way his depictions change to reflect the religious and political concerns of his day, especially 75 Savant, New Muslims, 14. 76 Donner also states that “in either case, the topic has clearly become the focus of concentrated attention by the author or transmitter, and the existence of the theme has to be assumed either way.” Donner, Narratives, 145. He concludes, “It thus seems reasonable to take references to the earliest authors of discrete ‘books’ on particular topics as a rough indicator of at least the relative dates of emergence of the themes to which these books belonged.” 77 See the notes of Abdel Haleem in his preface to Maᶜmar ibn Rāshid and ᶜAbd al-Razzāq al- Ṣanᶜānī, The Expeditions, xi. 78 See Hoyland, “History,” 19, where he refers to one early literary account, which is later “cited by historians of the Muslim conquests, by lawyers wanting to codify the conduct of war, by philologists interested in early oratory and so on.” Hoyland’s argument is that the “raw material for Islamic history is the individual report,” which becomes “an object of collection and study,” and, along with other reports, they become the “body of material” used by later writers from different disciplines. A similar argument is offered by Savant, New Muslims, 13, where she rightly observes, “Arabic sources tend to return to a common pool of memories about locales, events, institutions, and persons, but with different methods of selecting and manipulating the record. These divergent methods can often suggest something about the hermeneutics of individual traditionists.”
Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads 49 when compared to narratives in later works. One example should clarify. In the following pages, I examine how the conversions of religio-political contentious figures (e.g., ᶜAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib, Abū Bakr, Abū Sufyān, al-ᶜAbbās ibn ᶜAbd al-Muṭṭalib, and Muᶜāwiya) are portrayed by competing authors. In al-Zuhrī’s Maghāzī, it is important to investigate how his portrayal of some of these figures reflects Umayyad views or, instead, suggests later successive historiographical filters by their ᶜAbbāsid rivals.79 As we shall see in his depiction of the conversion of the central Umayyad leader Abū Sufyān, al- Zuhrī provides a unique portrayal which is later adjusted in sources written under the ᶜAbbāsids.
Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba (d. 135/752 or 141/758) Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba, a Qurashite by walā’ (clientage), was born in Medina to a father of non-Arab descent, a mawlā of the companion al-Zubayr ibn al- ᶜAwwām (d. 36/656).80 Mūsā lived, learned, and died in Medina by the end of the reign of the tenth Umayyad caliph, Hishām ibn ᶜAbd al-Malik (r. 105/ 724–125/743).81 Various Muslim authorities consider him one of the ṣighār al-tābiᶜūn (later followers), as he reportedly met a few ṣaḥāba (companions), including Jābir al-Anṣārī (d. 78/697) and Anas ibn Mālik (d. ca. 93/712).82
79 Borrut, Entre, 59–108; Hoyland, “Greek,” 221–222. 80 Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ṭabaqāt, 1:464 (Mūsā’s death in 141/758); Ibn Ḥajar, Tahdhīb al-tahdhīb, 10:360; see Motzki, Origins, 224. See Ed., “Mūsā B. Uḳba al-Asdī,” EI2, 7:644; Sezgin, Ta’rīkh al-turāth, 1:2:84–86, placing him last among the Umayyad writers. On the role of the mawālī in Muslim historical writing, see Muṣṭafā, al-Ta’rīkh al-ᶜarabī wa-l-mu’arrikhūn, 1:87; Gibb, Studies, 112. On al- Zubayr, see Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 3:73ff.; Khalifa, Ṭabaqāt, 1:43; al-ᶜIjlī, Ta’rīkh al-thiqāt, 1:164 (Khadīja was his aunt; his mother was Ṣafiyya bint ᶜAbd al-Muṭṭalib, Muhammad’s aunt according to Ibn Ḥibbān’s Thiqāt, 1:36); Ibn Abī Ḥātim, al-Jurḥ, 3:578 (Zubayr was of Medina); Ibn Ḥibbān, Mashāhīr ᶜulamā’ al-amṣār, 1:25–26; Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 18:332ff.; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 1:41ff.; Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, al-Istīᶜāb, 2:510ff.; Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 2:307ff.; Ṣafadī, al-Wāfī, 14:121; Ibn Ḥajar, al-Iṣāba, 2:457 (from Banū Asad, Quraysh, cousin of Muhammad); Ibn Ḥajar, Tahdhīb, 3:318. 81 Ibn Ḥibbān, Thiqāt, 5:368; Ibn Ḥibbān, Mashāhīr ᶜulamā’ al-amṣār, 1:131, where he states that Mūsā died in ah 135, while Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ observes it was A.H 141. Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ṭabaqāt, 1:464. Al-Dhahabī also places his death in ah 141 in Siyar, 6:117; al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh al- Islām, 9:5; al-Nawawī, Tahdhīb al-asmā’ wa-l-lughāt, 2:118. However, Ibn al-Athīr places Mūsā’s death in ah 142 or 143. Ibn al-Athīr, Kāmil, 5:94. Hishām’s reign witnessed the farthest expansion of the Umayyad Caliphate westward, reaching to Bordeaux and Loire, which halted at the frontier of France at the Battle of Poitiers (114/732), or, as Arabic sources call it, Balāṭ al-shuhadā’ (the Battle of the Palace of the Martyrs). 82 Yaḥyā ibn Maᶜīn, Ta’rīkh, 3:182; Ibn Abī Ḥātim al-Rāzī, al-Jarḥ wa-l-taᶜdīl, 8:154; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 6:117.
50 Conversion to Islam Mūsā encountered several religio-political groups and was praised by both Shīᶜite and non-Shīᶜite Muslims.83 According to various traditions, he performed a pilgrimage in 48/668, during which time he met two important figures: ᶜUmar ibn al-Khaṭṭāb’s son, the well-known traditionist ᶜAbdullāh (d. 73/693), and the Khārijite leader Najda al-Ḥarūrī (d. 69/688).84 He was praised by some Shīᶜite authorities, including al-Yaᶜqūbī (d. 284/897) and al-Ṭūsī (d. 460/1068).85 This suggests his connection not only with renowned traditionists but also with other religio-political groups, including the Shīᶜites and Khārijites, at some point in his career. He is praised for his knowledge of ḥadīth and maghāzī.86 Ibn Shāhīn (d. 385/995) identifies Mūsā as a “trusted narrator,” who was highly praised by Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal (d. 241/855).87 Yaḥyā ibn Maᶜīn (d. 233/848) states that Mūsā is both reliable and trustworthy.88 Ibn Ḥajar (d. 852/1448) claims that, according to Imam Mālik (d. 179/795), aṣaḥḥ (the most accurate) maghāzī accounts are those of Mūsā ibn ᶜUqbā.89 Imam al-Shāfiᶜī (d. 204/820) repeatedly refers to Mūsā.90 Thus, well-known classical Sunnī (Mālikī, Shāfiᶜī, and Ḥanbalī) and Shīᶜite traditionists praised Mūsā’s maghāzī accounts. 83 In speaking of shīᶜī and non-shīᶜī during that early stage, I refer to political Shīᶜism rather than the later religious Shīᶜism. See Petersen, ᶜAlī, 50n85. Crone, Medieval, 70ff.; Black, History, 40ff.; Watt, Islamic Philosophy, 14ff. 84 Al-Shahrastānī, Kitāb al-milal, 1:122–124; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 4:119; al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 5:33, 44, 260; Ibn Ḥajar, Tahdhīb, 10:362. On Najda al-Ḥarūrī as a Khārijite leader, see Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 5:76–77 (he was anti-Umayyad, fighting with al-Zubayr); al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 4:120, 5:2–21; al- Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 5:43ff.; Ṣafadī, al-Wāfī, 20:40; al-Ziriklī, al-Aᶜlām, 8:10. 85 Yaᶜqūbī, Ta’rīkh, 2:343; al-Ṭūsī, Rijāl, 300, where Mūsā is identified as a shīᶜī tābiᶜī (follower) among the companions of Jaᶜfar ibn Muḥammad al-Sādiq. For the Sunnī side, see Ibn Ḥajar, Taqrīb al-tahdhīb, 552. 86 See Ibn Ḥajar, Tahdhīb, 10:360ff., where Mūsā is said to be aktharahum ḥadīthan (most frequent ḥadīth narrator) and identified as thiqa ṣāliḥ (trustworthy, righteously pious). See also al-Nawawī, Tahdhīb, 2:118. 87 Ibn Shāhīn, Ta’rīkh asmā’ al-thuqāt, 1:220. Imam Mālik is reported to have stated, “You must acquire the knowledge of the maghāzī from Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba, as he is virtuous and trustworthy and his maghāzī collection is the most reliable one.” It should be noted that the statement excludes the reports Mūsā attributed to Nāfiᶜ mawlā ibn ᶜUmar. Al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 6:117. Motzki asserts that Mūsā’s accounts rely heavily on Nāfiᶜ (d. ca. 118/736), the mawlā of ᶜAbdullāh ibn ᶜUmar, as a direct informant. Motzki, Origins, 224. 88 Yaḥyā ibn Maᶜīn, Ta’rīkh, 3:182. 89 Ibn Ḥajar, Tahdhīb al-tahdhīb, 10:361, where he quotes Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal: “You should seek the knowledge of the maghāzī through Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba as he is reliable.” See also al-Nawawī, Tahdhīb, 2:118. 90 See, for example, al-Shāfiᶜī, al-Umm, 1:128, 2:5, 3:115, 7:175; al-Shāfiᶜī, Musnad, 1:257–258, 2:180–181, 4:32–33; al-Shāfiᶜī, Tafsīr, 2:1004, 2:1048. On al-Shāfiᶜī, see Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 209; al-Bayhaqī, Manāqib al-Shāfiᶜī, 1:399–401. On his life, see Ali, Imam Shafiᶜi. On his work, methods, and influence, see Abū Khalīl, Hārūn, 194ff.; Wurayyimī, Fī al-I’tilāf, 117ff., 146, 191ff.; Chaumont, “al-Shāfiᶜī,” EI2, 9:181–185; el-Shamsy, Canonization, 147ff., especially 157ff.; van Ess, Theology, 1:44, 2:89, 2:795; Lowry, Early Islamic Legal Theory, 1–22; Lowry, “al-Shāfiᶜī,” in Islamic Legal Thought, ed., Arabi et al., 43ff.
Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads 51 Like al-Zuhrī, Mūsā wrote extensively on Muhammad’s life and raids. However, the connection between Mūsā and al-Zuhrī, as two maghāzī experts, is disputed: Some say Mūsā did not meet or communicate with al-Zuhrī, while others identify a strong connection between the two, particularly Mūsā’s heavy reliance on al-Zuhrī.91 The importance of Mūsā as a chronicler of maghāzī is evident in how later Muslim historians—including al-Wāqidī (d. ca. 207/823), Ibn Saᶜd (d. 230/844), al-Balādhurī (d. ca. 279/ 892), and al-Ṭabarī (d. 310/923)—relied on his maghāzī reports. They cite whole portions of his accounts in their works.92 Concerning Mūsā’s works on Muhammad’s maghāzī, according to al- Dhahabī (d. 748/1348), Mūsā wrote mujallad ṣaghīr (a short book) on maghāzī, but, like many other Umayyad-era sources, it was lost.93 Classical Sunnī scholars, including Imam Mālik ibn Anas (d. 179/795), Yaḥyā ibn Maᶜīn (d. 233/848), and Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal (d. 241/855), as well as Shīᶜite authorities like al-Yaᶜqūbī (d. 284/897) and al-Ṭūsī (d. 460/1068), have acknowledged the existence of Mūsā’s Maghāzī and conveyed its importance. Surprisingly, Ibn al-Nadīm (d. 385/995) does not include Mūsā’s work on maghāzī in his Fihrist, yet Ibn Khayr al-Ishbīlī (d. 575/1179) does.94 It is plausible to assume that Mūsā’s Maghāzī was available to various classical authorities at some point. Yūsuf ibn ᶜUmar ibn Qāḍī Shuhba (d. 789/1387) reportedly had in his possession a manuscript of Mūsā’s Maghāzī, from which he selected pieces and compiled a work which he titled Aḥādīth muntakhaba min maghāzī Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba. A manuscript of this abridged work exists in the Prussian Library in Berlin, of which a critical edition was published in Arabic with a German translation in 1904 by Professor Eduard Sachau.95 There is another copy of 91 Ibn Ḥajar, Tahdhīb al-tahdhīb, 10:362, where the author observes that, according to some authorities, Mūsā never met al-Zuhrī. For accounts which refer to Mūsā and al-Zuhrī as acquaintances, or at least suggest that Mūsā relied heavily upon al-Zuhrī, see al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 1:221, 241, 326; 2:236, 403; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 1:179, 6:117, and 10:361–362, where Mūsā’s maghāzī are basically narrated on the account of al-Zuhrī. See also Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr (d. 463/1071), al-Istīᶜāb fī maᶜrifat al-aṣḥāb, 3:1151, 1351, 1380; Ibn Ḥajar (d. 852/1448), al-Iṣāba, 1:309, 405. For secondary studies, see Ed., “Mūsā B. Uḳba al-Asdī,” EI2, 7:644, where Mūsā “was a pupil of al-Zuhrī.” 92 See, for instance, al-Wāqidī, al-Maghāzī, 2:849ff., 3:890ff.; Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 2:3ff.; al-Balādhurī, Futūḥ al-buldān, 17ff. 93 Al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīikh, 9:299–300. 94 Ibn Khayr al-Ishbīlī, Fahrasat, 198. 95 The manuscript contains only selected portions of the supposed Mūsā’s Maghāzī, including a report or more of each of the ten sections of the lost work. Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba, Aḥādīth muntakhaba. On this German fragment and its translation, see Schoeler, “Mūsā b. ᶜUqba’s Maghāzī,” 90ff.; Schacht, “On Mūsā b. ᶜUqba’s Kitāb al-Maghāzī,” 288–300, where he treats Mūsā’s statements as fiction (291– 292), with which Schoeler disagrees (92–94). Compare Schoeler’s argument with the opposite view of Juynboll, Muslim Tradition, 158.
52 Conversion to Islam this manuscript at the Islamic University in Medina, which was edited in 1991 by Mashhūr Ḥasan Sulaymān and published in an Arabic scholarly edition under the same title. Also, in 1994, relying on the same manuscript and other early sources, the Muslim scholar Muḥammad Bāqshīsh Abū Mālik completed his dissertation by producing an edited work which encompasses Mūsā’s Maghāzī, relying on the earliest accounts attributed to Mūsā.96 Bāqshīsh Abū Mālik relied not only on Qāḍī Shuhba’s selection of Mūsā’s Maghāzī but also on the various accounts attributed to Mūsā in later sources. Thus, we now have two sources attributed to Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba: the abridged Aḥādīth muntakhaba by Qāḍī Shuhba and the reconstruction of Maghāzī Mūsā by Bāqshīsh Abū Mālik. As with any sources allegedly tracing back to the Umayyad period, there are various textual and methodological problems in these two works. Because I use them in my analysis of conversion, there are important observations to make. First, if the major source problem with al-Zuhrī’s Maghāzī is that it reached us through later recensions by Maᶜmar and ᶜAbd al-Razzāq, the main challenges with Mūsā’s Maghāzī lie in the fact that the works we now possess demonstrate how later sources incorporated earlier quotes. This is a scholarly problem which requires a few lines of explanation. The two works provide sets of quotations attributed to Mūsā and gathered by later compilers. This is similar to what we also find in much earlier sources, including, for instance, the Ta’rīkh of al-Ṭabarī (d. 310/923). He incorporates quotes from earlier authorities, including “Abū Mikhnaf, Sayf ibn ᶜUmar, Ibn al-Kalbī, ᶜAwāna ibn al-Ḥakam, Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim, al-Madā’inī, ᶜUrwa ibn al-Zubayr, al- Zuhrī, Ibn Isḥāq, al-Wāqidī, Wahab ibn Munabbih, Kaᶜb al-Aḥbār, and so forth.”97 While we do not have access to the writings these “authorities” authored, we possess what al-Ṭabarī claims they reported. The scholarly criticism of such a method is reflected in various legitimate questions: If we assume that a specific early quote is preserved in a later source and that this quote is authentic, why was this particular quote preserved? How was the decision to preserve the quote made, and why were other reports omitted? If a quote is preserved in a particular form, is it the exact original form voiced or documented by the alleged source? In response to similar questions, Antoine Borrut rightly observes that these quotes often present a distorted view of the initial source, as they reflect
96 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba, al-Maghāzī (hereafter cited as Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba). 97
Al-Dūrī, Rise, 7. See also Petersen, ᶜAlī, 150, criticizing al-Ṭabarī’s use of sources.
Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads 53 selectivity in what was used and what was left out.98 Accordingly, I concede, we cannot simply presume that a quote fairly and accurately represents the entirety of an earlier source which has been lost. Fuat Sezgin is among the scholars who favor this method of reconstructing early sources by using quotes preserved in later works; Ella Landau-Tasseron is among the scholars who criticize this method. She stigmatizes the method, even in its most positive case—for example, with strongly authenticated quotes from a supposedly tight and reliable isnād (chain of informants).99 She warns against its flaws and emphasizes two major problems with it: possible false attributions (quotes falsely ascribed to earlier authorities) and the likely metamorphoses in transmitted texts.100 In agreement with Landau-Tasseron, Borrut provides two more observations on the same matter. First, he warns that, even if one finds information related to missing sources—assuming they have already traced quotes back to their origins—one is still unable to distinguish the sources’ initial shape and details. Second, the fragile evolving nature of texts challenges and undermines the reliability of the transmission process, which significantly affects the dissemination or circulation of a report and, thus, its chance of survival.101 Further, there is one more major challenge. This method—reconstructing lost historiographies by using quotes found in later works—assumes that Muslim traditions were not only produced in isolation from each other but were also kept in their exact form, never redacted, modified, or distorted by any sectarian or sociopolitical influence. This argument naively presumes the quotes were somewhat “frozen” and smoothly and successively transmitted without change. This, I contend, cannot be true, as the transmission of reports did not occur in a vacuum.102 98 Borrut, Entre, 57–58, where he mentions that sometimes information about the conquest of a given region is emphasized at the expense of the rest of the work and its author in the overall project. Nonetheless, see the recent study by Ilkka Lindstedt, “Al-Madā’inī,” 65–150, where he attempts to reconstruct the “skeleton” of al-Madā’inī’s Kitāb al-dawla by using “later quotations of it.” 99 Landau-Tasseron, “On the Reconstruction,” 47. Similarly, see Conrad, “Recovering,” 258–263, where he criticizes the method of using later quotes to reconstruct lost texts and concludes that, “while some such efforts may well prove successful, the task is not a straightforward one and requires the collection of potentially useful material on a large scale and careful attention to a wide range of historiographical questions.” 100 Landau-Tasseron, “On the Reconstruction,” 45–91. See also Hoyland, Seeing, 32; Borrut, Entre, 57–58. For an example of some scholars who endeavor to bring together quotes to reconstruct lost texts, see Guillaume, “Note,” 1–4, where he writes of his efforts “to collect and include anything of importance which other writers had quoted on the authority of Ibn Isḥāq.” 101 Borrut, Entre, 17. 102 Sarah Savant rightly observes, “Arabic sources tend to return to a common pool of memories about locales, events, institutions, and persons, but with different methods of selecting and manipulating the record. These divergent methods can often suggest something about the hermeneutics of individual traditionists.” Savant, New Muslims, 13. See Petersen, ᶜAlī, 25, as he discusses the fluidity of reports between major historiographical centers in the early Muslim World, observing
54 Conversion to Islam These arguments, warning against the reconstruction of lost sources through quotes from later works, are valid and should give pause to serious historians. However, my investigation focuses on examining reoccurring themes throughout historical narratives rather than reconstructing earlier works. As mentioned earlier, Fred Donner makes an important point in this regard: In tracing reoccurring themes in historical narratives, he argues, “it does not matter whether the material is gathered as a discrete and strictly delimited book, or only as a collection of notes on that topic.”103 While I examine notes attributed to Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba on conversion to Islam, I acknowledge that these notes do not represent the totality of Mūsā’s work. Nevertheless, I not only trace conversion themes in narratives attributed to Mūsā but also investigate whether such themes appear to truly represent his Umayyad days and thus differ from later depictions advanced under the ᶜAbbāsids.104 In a sense, I search his narratives for a layer of authentic portrayal which reflects the religious and sociopolitical context under the Umayyads—the time when Mūsā presumably wrote. It is my contention that Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba, like al-Zuhrī, wrote his Maghāzī under specific sectarian and sociopolitical concerns. The historiographical corpus used and endorsed by the Umayyads reflected their sectarian beliefs, sociopolitical measures, and desired portrayal of the events during the earliest Islamic period.105 This corpus, now mostly lost, underwent various
that “very often the material of both schools follows homogeneous courses and invariably with the same traditionists as intermediaries.” Noth also traces “comparable material” between these centers, which suggests that traditions were not transmitted in isolation from each other: “no single one of the collections can be considered as a self contained unit.” Noth/Conrad, Early, 17. Hoyland rightly observes, “in the cosmopolitan world of Early Islam no one tradition was insulated from the influence of others.” Hoyland, Seeing, 32. See also Borrut, Entre, 35, where he demonstrates the existence of common core information. See also Robinson, “Conquest,” 38; Mourad, “On Early,” 588. 103 Donner, Narratives, 145. 104 The distortion of Umayyad sources cannot be viewed as completely successful, as if successors (the ᶜAbbāsids) were entirely capable of twisting the whole written past of their predecessors (the Umayyads). It was unavoidable that later writers dealt with original material selected by rivals or competitors. This is one reason for the existence of reports written under the ᶜAbbāsids which clearly favor some Umayyad figures. Borrut convincingly argues, “chaque projet de réécriture s’accompagna de sélections, d’ajouts et de suppressions, formant autant de filtres historiographiques successifs dont il n’était pas toujours possible de s’affranchir. Pareil constat implique qu’il fut parfois inévitable de composer avec du matériau sélectionné par ses rivaux ou concurrents.” Borrut, Entre, 62–63. See also el-Hibri, “Redemption,” 241–265; Judd, Religious, 52ff. 105 See Anthony, Muhammad, 86ff. and 129ff. See also Borrut, Entre, 65, where he argues that it is obvious that a deep work of rewriting and reinterpreting took place after the Umayyads, at the turn of the third–fourth/ninth–tenth centuries, basically because it was necessary, perhaps indispensable. Borrut, Entre, 79. See Petersen, ᶜAlī, 83ff., on the creation of ᶜAbbāsid tradition, and 109ff., on the survival of pro-Umayyad accounts in ᶜAbbāsid traditions.
Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads 55 revisions under their successors, the ᶜAbbāsids, and their compilers.106 Successive policies required historiographical filters to control the past and, consequently, restrain visions needed for the present and future.107 Some Umayyad accounts were purposefully advanced, others were significantly modified or intentionally ignored, and yet the distortion of the recorded past was not entirely successful.108 In the case of Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba’s narratives, the question remains: Can we still find conversion themes in his alleged accounts which reflect the Umayyad measures, debates, and contexts? The answer is affirmative, and the following analysis will confirm this.109
Conversion Topoi under the Umayyads: Early Literary Indications The objective of this section is to analyze the descriptions of conversion associated with the three Muslims who wrote under the Umayyads: Sulaym
106 Antoine Borrut convincingly argues that most of our historiographical accounts have been filtered and redacted under the ᶜAbbāsids through a process of “successive phases.” Borrut, Entre, 61– 108. See also Robinson, Empire and Elites, ch. 1, where he argues that historical accounts, specifically, the “conquest history,” reached us through literary sources highly influenced by the sociopolitical and religious concerns of the period in which the accounts were produced. See also Petersen, ᶜAlī, 17, as he examines the depiction of the fitna and argues, “The traditionist never relinquishes his right to personal political or religious commitment to the subject he deals with.” Petersen also argues, “The formation of the historical tradition consists above all in reflections of the political and religious conflicts of its own age, so there can be very little doubt that the tradition in itself was a product of the prevailing state of affairs” (50). See also Agha, The Revolution, xv–xxxii, 124–134. 107 Borrut, Entre, 59–61, where he states, “Les sources aujourd’hui disponibles pour appréhender les premiers siècles de l’islam imposent donc une méthodologie appropriée, pour ne pas nous limiter à raconter cette histoire à travers le prisme déformant des grands auteurs et compilateurs de l’âge Abbasside” (61, italics mine). See also Agha, The Revolution, xv–xxxii, 124ff. 108 It was inevitable for the ᶜAbbāsids to work with traditions initially produced under their Umayyad rivals. It would be simplistic to suggest that the successive rewritings were due only to political control. Other factors were at play, including various phases of interpreting the past and creative imagination of the later authors who wrote chiefly to teach their immediate audience rather than to simply retell what took place. In his examination of ᶜAbbasīd sources, Tayeb el-Hibri convincingly argues that these narrative sources were originally composed not to report facts but to provide projected feedback on a variety of political, social, economic, and cultural issues around a particular controversial episode. El-Hibri, Reinterpreting, 13; el-Hibri, “Redemption,” 241–242. Therefore, Borrut observes that Tarīkh al-Ṭabarī can be read as an “already interpreted history” or as a “turnkey” story. Borrut, Entre, 79: “se donne à lire comme une histoire déjà interprétée, comme une histoire ‘clef en main.’ ” See also Petersen, ᶜAlī, 17, 50, 109ff. 109 Later, for instance, I compare various sources regarding Abū Sufyān’s conversion. His acceptance of Islam is portrayed differently in the narrative of Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba when compared with ᶜAbbāsid sources. Mūsā is not anti-Umayyad and presents Abū Sufyān, though not favorably, less harshly when contrasted with accounts written under the ᶜAbbāsids, including those of Ibn Hishām (d. ca. 218/833) and al-Wāqidī (d. ca. 207/823). This reflects an element of the Umayyad historiographical skeleton which survived the ᶜAbbāsid cuts.
56 Conversion to Islam ibn Qays (d. 76/695), Ibn Shihāb al-Zuhrī (d. 124/741), and Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba (d. 135/752 or 141/758). Based on my analysis of these accounts, there are repeated representations of conversion. These are the initial incidents which we find in the earliest available historiographical works. Since these are presumably the earliest extant accounts, I call them precursors of conversion themes, as it is my contention that they are used repeatedly by later historians.110 When we categorize them in groups, we have at least four discernable conversion topoi: significance, supremacy, affirmation, and compromise. Each of the four includes various conversion themes.111 Topoi of significance emphasize unique conversions, including those of the awā’il (firsts), wujahā’ (the notable elites), slaves, and women, while topoi of supremacy appear in reports highlighting the religious hegemony of Islam, as evidenced by the conversion of Jews and Christians. Topoi of affirmation are present in accounts proving Muhammad’s prophethood and the eloquence of his message, the Qur’ān, while topoi of compromise indicate insincere conversion for materialistic gain or apart from genuine convictions, as reflected in the conversion of al-ṭulaqā’ (the set-free persons) and al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum (those whose hearts were to be reconciled), among others. I contend that these four topoi, and their subsequent themes, continue to develop and evolve in later classical writings, after their initial emergence (hence, precursors) in these early accounts. Next, I will arrange the subsections according to my proposed topoi. In each subsection, I will trace and analyze the occurrences of conversion in the works under scrutiny, emphasizing the initial appearance of conversion themes and clustering them according to topoi. When beneficial, I will compare briefly with ᶜAbbāsid accounts for contrast, as they will be examined in more depth in the following chapters. Finally, I will offer a concluding section, summarizing and synthesizing the findings.
110 See Donner, Narratives, 145, where he argues that narrators “continued to develop the material by reorganizing, recombining, or reinterpreting it, and (occasionally) by introducing completely new concerns.” 111 I benefited greatly from Noth/Conrad, Early, 26–61, and Donner, Narratives, 141ff. See also, though to a lesser extent, the discussions of themes in Islamic historiography of Robinson, Historiography, 18, 95–98, and Cook, Martyrdom, 4, 55, 124, 157, on martyrdom as a heroic theme. For themes in Muslim literature in general, see Goitein, Studies, 11, 32; Rosenthal, Man versus Society, 11ff.; Rosenthal, Historiography, 114; Renard, Islamic. For the complete list of the topoi and their subsequent themes, see the chart p. xv.
Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads 57
Topoi of Significance Topoi of significance aim to highlight distinctiveness among conversions. They present Islam’s unique ability to win the hearts and minds of various groups. These topoi appear in themes of conversion among the awā’il (firsts), wujahā’ (notables), slaves, and women, emphasizing the success of Islam in reaching various social groups. They are also detected in themes which describe honorable conversion experiences, including the theme of ḥasun islāmuh (praiseworthy conversion) and the instances of good deeds following conversion— such as destroying idols and enduring persecu112 tion. While these themes are all positive in nature, topoi of significance also include the theme of rejecting conversion or refusing Islam’s call, which reflects how the new faith, unlike previous religions, is voluntary. The earliest precursors of these conversion topoi of significance appear in the accounts under study and will be repeated frequently in later sources. Here, I will trace these themes within the sources under scrutiny. The theme of the awā’il (firsts) to convert is one of the most detectable themes of the topoi of significance in historical accounts.113 This theme encompasses not only the first to convert to Islam in general but also the first convert in a specific clan, in an important place, after a specific event, or of a Prophet’s companion, among others.114 In its earliest precursor, the theme appears in the accounts of Sulaym, al-Zuhrī, and Mūsā. It increases in use with the growth of historical accounts under the ᶜAbbāsids. The identity of awwal man aslam (the first to accept Islam) is of religious and political importance.115 While there is no dispute concerning Khadīja as 112 My description of topoi of significance may correspond, in some ways, to what Donner has referred to as themes of the arche “in the Early Islamic Narrative Tradition,” especially as they “include events that define the community temporally and to some extent in terms of essential identity or ideology” (Donner, Narratives, 142). 113 For a scholarly discussion on the theme of awā’il in early Arabic historiography, see Lang, “Awā’il.” She explores how classical Muslims understood the role of the awā’il and renders the term “firsts.” She focuses on the early Arabic historical tradition of Ibn Qutayaba, Ibn Rusta, and al- Bayhaqī in the late third/ninth and early fourth/tenth centuries. For more on detecting historical themes, see Noth/Conrad, Early, 109; Donner, Narratives, 141–142. 114 See Noth/Conrad, Early, 104–108, on awā’il as a historical question; Rosenthal, “Awā’il,” EI2, 1:758–759; Berg, Development, 27. See Juynboll, Muslim, 10–23, where he focuses on ḥadīth traditions, but seems to exaggerate the reliability of the awā’il materials, particularly those dealing with the history after Muhammad’s death (11). See also Margoliouth, Mohammed, 98–101, on the significance of being Abū Bakr’s first convert. 115 On the political importance of the awā’il, see Jackson, Fifty, 9, and 13, where he writes, “it was generally accepted that a successor [of Muhammad] should belong to the emigrants; the first Muslims to convert to Islam.” See Noth/Conrad, Early, 104–108, where “the form of awā’il” presents opportunity for privileges and reflects “knowledge and cleverness.” Like Simonsohn, I contend that “conversion to Islam may mean different things and was achieved in different ways.” See Simonsohn,
58 Conversion to Islam the first female convert, there is a disagreement regarding the earliest male to accept Islam.116 The importance of this theme is evidenced by its appearance in Sulaym’s accounts (d. 76/695), and its dispute in later works.117 For Sulaym, there is no doubt that ᶜAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib (d. 40/661) is the first male to accept Islam.118 Sulaym places ᶜAlī’s early conversion in the context of a prophetic affirmation by Muhammad himself regarding the manāqib (laudable merits and qualities of) ᶜAlī.119 Sulaym leaves no room for doubt that ᶜAlī was the first male convert,120 as the Prophet identified him as such and stated, “ᶜAlī is the best of my community and the most notable of my household.”121 ᶜAlī, according to Sulaym, was not only the earliest to convert to Islam but also “Conversion, Exemption,” 196; Szpiech, Conversion, 9ff. My focus is on narratives, not actual events. See Genette, Narrative Discourse, 25–31, where “histoire” refers to “what really happened,” and “récit” is a narrative representing fiction or actual events. See Prince, “Surveying Narratology,” in What Is Narratology?, ed. Kindt and Müller, 1–16, where he surveys theories on narratology. For classical works on the awā’il which are now lost, see Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 96 (al-Kalbī) and 104 (al-Madā’inī). 116 On Khadīja as the first convert, see Dashti, Twenty Three Years, 122; Spellberg, Politics, 153, 181, and her discussion on importance of the awā’il and the dispute on whether ᶜAlī or Abū Bakr was the first male convert (35), as she rightly labels it the “contest for merit and demonstrable closeness to the Prophet Muhammad.” See also Hughes, Muslim Identities, 257; Barbara Stowasser, “Khadīja,” in Encyclopaedia of the Qur’ān, ed. Jane McAuliffe, 3:80–81 (hereafter EQ), where Khadīja “was the first to believe in God, his apostle, and the truth of the message, meaning that she was the Prophet’s first follower and, after Muḥammad himself, the second Muslim.” Everett Jenkins, Muslim Diaspora, 12. See also al-Ruṣāfī, Kitāb al-shakhṣiyya al-Muḥammadiyya, 353ff. 117 In secondary studies, the dispute is generally focused on the priority of Abū Bakr or ᶜAlī. For scholarly discussions, see Ṭāhā Ḥusayn, al-Shaykhān, 22, where Abū Bakr was the first convert among men; Margoliouth, Mohammed, 83, 94, 165, 206, who seems to support Abū Bakr as the first male convert; also Sprenger, Life, 158, where Abū Bakr was the first convert, according to Mujāhid; Haykal, Life, 78; Jackson, Fifty, 9; Asma Afsaruddin, “Abu Bakr,” in The Qur’an, ed. Leaman, 7; al-ᶜUmarī, al-Sīra al-nabawiyya al-ṣaḥīḥa, 133–134; al-Najjār, al-Khulafā’ al-rāshidūn, 37ff. Shīᶜite scholars unanimously present ᶜAlī as the first convert. See Amir-Moezzi, Silent Qur’ān, 82 (relying on Ibn ᶜAbbās); Lakhani et al., Sacred, 109. Some secular scholars also support ᶜAlī as the first convert. See also Khalidi, Islamic Historiography, 120, where he discusses the problem of “the priority of ᶜAlī’s conversion”; Hughes, Muslim Identities, 117; Esposito, Islam, 9. 118 Sulaym 133, where ᶜAlī is the earliest to trust the divine revelation given to Muhammad through Gabriel. The same claim regarding ᶜAlī is found in another Shīᶜite work: Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim, Waqᶜat Siffīn, 118. We will study Naṣr’s work in the following chapters. On Naṣr, see Petersen, ᶜAlī, 101–108. Petersen, however, did not have access to Sulaym’s work. 119 Sulaym 133, where Muhammad, speaking to his daughter Fāṭima, affirms her husband ᶜAlī: “[ᶜAlī’s] belief in Allah and his messenger before any other person.” On manāqib, see Pellat, “Manāḳib,” EI2, 6:349ff; also Bosworth, “Manāqib Literature,” in Encyclopedia, ed. Meisami and Starkey, 2:504–505. 120 Sulaym 133. Sulaym, quoting Muhammad, states that the Prophet declared, wa-lam yasbiqah aḥad min ummatī (and no one else was before [ᶜAlī] in my community [to accept Islam]). This is a typical Shīᶜite claim, repeatedly occurring in classical works. See similar reports in al-Raḍī, Nahj al-balāgha, 81, 100, which are attributed to ᶜAlī himself; also al-Ṭabarsī, al-Iḥtijāj, 1:37, 1:271; al- Ṭabarsī, Iᶜlām al-warā bi-aᶜlām al-hudā, 1:102–103; al-Ṭabarī, Dhakhā’ir al-ᶜuqbā, 58–59. The claim continues in modern and contemporary Shīᶜite works. See al-Majlisī, Biḥār, 38:272, 40:42, et passim; also Amīnī, Kitāb al-ghadīr, 3:219ff., where he lists one hundred aḥādīth (traditions) establishing that ᶜAlī was the earliest and first to convert to Islam. See also Amīnī, Naẓra, 149. 121 Sulaym 133, 167. Muhammad stated, ᶜAlī was khayr ummatī wa khayr ahl baytī.
Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads 59 the fastest to accept it, exemplifying al-sābiqa fī al-dīn (the fastest to accept the religion).122 It appears that, for Sulaym, the significance of ᶜAlī’s early conversion lies in its reflection of his notable character, portraying him as a solid believer in Muhammad’s message. He is thus the trusted foundation of faith and the one whom Muhammad chose to succeed him.123 Sulaym is not only pro-ᶜAlid in his loyalty and his depiction of ᶜAlī; he is also harshly anti-Umayyad.124 He compares ᶜAlī’s and Muᶜāwiya’s conversions, implying a causal relationship between genuine conversions and acting justly.125 He is skeptical of Muᶜāwiya’s conversion, asserting that he supported “liars and hypocrites” in exalting Abū Bakr, ᶜUmar, ᶜUthmān, and ᶜĀ’isha.126 Therefore, conversion to Islam is a highly politicized topic in historical accounts. It is 122 Sulaym 167. This report, according to Abān ibn Abī ᶜAyyāsh, Sulaym’s narrator, is authenticated by two major figures, Abū Dharr (d. 32/652) and al-Ḥasan al-Baṣrī (d. 110/728). It should be noted that Abū Dharr appears in Muslim traditions as a model of religious zeal and serious piety, who was dissatisfied with both ᶜUthmān and Muᶜāwiya. See Anthony, Caliph, 52. Al-Ḥasan al-Baṣrī was known for supporting asceticism and opposing tawrīth al-khilāfa (inheriting the caliphate) and was particularly vocal about it during the reign of ᶜAbd al-Malik. See Mourad, Early, 19ff., where he examines al-Ḥaṣan al-Baṣrī (d. 110/728) and the literary corpus of traditions and sayings ascribed to him, arguing that, for the most part, they were forged and reflect the day of those who forged them rather than al-Ḥasan’s. Choosing these two figures to authenticate the report demonstrates Sulaym’s Shīᶜite tendencies and his selectivity of authorities. It also indicates how the matter of awwal man aslam was of great importance to Sulaym. 123 Sulaym 167, where ᶜAlī’s conversion necessitates him as the faithful successor of Muhammad, because ᶜAlī is khayr āl Muḥammad (the best and most notable of the household of Muhammad) and the best in Muhammad’s umma. See the scholarly discussions: Keshk, “Depiction,” 38, where he argues, “when we come to the civil war between ᶜAlī and Muᶜāwiya we have to believe that the latter knew that the former was higher in standing because of his early conversion.” Herbert Berg suggests the same. Berg, “ᶜAbbāsid,” in ᶜAbbāsid Studies II, ed. Nawas, 17. See also al-Wardī, Wuᶜᶜāẓ al-salāṭīn, 182ff. 124 Shīᶜism in this context is political adherence to shīᶜat ᶜAlī, not the religious veneration of the first imam. Petersen, ᶜAlī, 50. See also Crone, Nativist Prophets, 109–115, 119ff., 192ff., 219ff., 495ff., where she distinguishes the ᶜAlids as a political group from later Shīᶜism as a form of Islam. See Amīn, Ẓuhr al-islām, 797ff. 125 Sulaym 166, where genuine conversion is marked by following Muhammad’s actions as exemplified in āl al-nabī (his household) and the rejection of ẓulm āl Quraysh (the injustice of the people of the Quraysh), which they committed against Muhammad’s Household. Acting justly, as a mark of genuine conversion, appears in Sulaym’s comparison of ᶜAlī and Muᶜāwiya: According to Sulaym, ᶜAlī is entrusted by the Prophet and identified as the best of Muhammad’s umma in the knowledge of the Qur’ān and Sunna (167), while Muᶜāwiya is reported to have paid money to the narrators and judges of Syria in order to fabricate accounts against Muhammad’s Household, specifically accusing ᶜAlī of murdering ᶜUthmān (279). In response, Sulaym curses Muᶜāwiya, who followed ᶜUmar’s footsteps in preventing people from seeking Allah’s path by lying about Allah’s book and Prophet, as well as belittling and deceiving ᶜAlī (279). On Muᶜāwiya paying money to fabricate traditions, see Abū Rayya, Aḍwā’ ᶜalā al-sunna al-Muḥammadiyya, 97ff.; Abū Rayya, Abū Hurayra, 221–225, 256–257. See also al-ᶜUmarī, Buḥūth fī tārīkh al-sunna al-musharrafa, 12–40, where he discusses how Muslims forged traditions to support their “political, sectarian, or personal” desires. For a modern Shīᶜite perspective on fabricating traditions by Muslim narrators, see al-Subḥānī, Kulliyyāt fī ᶜilm al-rijāl, 25–28. 126 Sulaym 279. Compare with al-Faḍl ibn Shādhān, al-Īḍāḥ, 53–54. For a similar yet modern Shīᶜite view of Muᶜāwiya, see the detailed assessment of Amīnī, Kitāb al-ghadīr, 10:257ff., where he lists what he labels jināyāt (the crimes of) Muᶜāwiya. Similarly, the author devotes the eighth volume
60 Conversion to Islam used to advance political preferences and religious concerns. The notion of awwal man aslam (the earliest to convert) is a theme of conversion significant to Sulaym and others after him. Unlike Sulaym, Ibn Shihāb al-Zuhrī (d. 124/741) is unclear on awwal man aslam (the first to convert), as he provides contradicting reports. He initially claims that ᶜAlī was both the first to believe and the first to aslam (accept Islam),127 relying on reports tracing back to Ibn ᶜAbbās (d. 68/687) which affirm that ᶜAlī was indeed awwal man aslam (the first to convert).128 However, in a different report, al-Zuhrī states that “we have not known of any one aslam (converted) before Zayd ibn Ḥāritha.”129 Thus, according to al-Zuhrī, ᶜAlī is not is not the only candidate for awwal man aslam (the first convert). His accounts most likely contradict themselves because of his pro-Umayyad and anti-ᶜAlid tendencies.130 Serving under the Umayyads, al-Zuhrī realizes that reporting ᶜAlī exclusively as the earliest convert might grant him undesired religious reverence and political esteem. By identifying both ᶜAlī and Zayd as possibilities, al-Zuhrī attempts to eliminate, disperse, or dilute the religio-political controversy—advanced chiefly by the pro-ᶜAlids—over
of his study to explain the errors and misdeeds of Abū Bakr and ᶜUmar, as he criticizes the way some Muslims tend to exaggerate in exalting the two figures. See also Amīnī, Naẓra, 75. 127 Zuhrī, Maghāzī, 45 (hereafter cited as Zuhrī). Al-Zuhrī authenticates reports by many early Muslim authorities, including Qatāda, who narrated a report attributed to al-Ḥasan that ᶜAlī was awwal man āman (the first to believe) at the age of fifteen or sixteen. 128 Zuhrī 46. Note that Ibn Isḥāq states, “Ali was the first maIe to believe in the apostle of God, to pray with him and to believe in his divine message, when he was a boy of ten. God favoured him in that he was brought up in the care of the apostle before Islam began.” See Ibn Hishām and Ibn Isḥāq, Life, 114. 129 Zuhrī 46. For a recent study on Zayd, see Powers, Zayd, 16–26. Zayd is well-known as the mawlā of Muhammad and sometimes as Muhammad’s son. On Zayd, see Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 1:386 (Zayd was mawlā Khadīja, and Muhammad freed him later); Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 3:147–169, 4:278; Ibn Ḥibbān, Thiqāt, 1:52, where Khadīja was the first to accept Islam, followed by ᶜAlī when he was ten, then Abū Bakr—ᶜAlī was hiding his faith, fearing Abū Ṭālib. Ibn Ḥibbān states that this is the reason people are confused regarding who was the earliest to believe. See also Ibn Ḥibbān, Thiqāt, 3:134, where Zayd is called “the son of Muhammad” until the verse udᶜūhum li-abā’ihim (call them after their [biological] fathers) (Q 33:5); Ibn Manda, Maᶜrifatal-ṣaḥāba, 1:960, 980, concerning Zaynab, Zayd, and Muhammad; Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 2:350, where Zayd is called the son of Muhammad; al- Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 1:330–333; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, sīra 1:111 and 1:220ff., where Zayd aslam (converted) after ᶜAlī; see also sīra 2:131ff. and 1:144, where Zayd converted after Khadīja, ᶜAlī, and Abū Bakr and is followed by ᶜUthmān and al-Zubayr. On whether Zayd or ᶜAlī was the first convert, see Haykal, Life, 78, where he attempts to harmonize various accounts and places ᶜAlī’s conversion before Zayd’s; al-ᶜAqqād, ᶜAbqariyyat al-ṣiddīq, 73. See also the secondary study al-Zuhrī, Marwiyyāt al- imām al-Zuhrī fī al-maghāzī, 1:48ff. It is noteworthy that al-ᶜAwājī’s work is a PhD dissertation under the supervision of professor Akram Ḍiyā’ al-ᶜUmrī. 130 See the earlier discussion on al-Zuhrī’s political orientation. See Gibb, Studies, 111; Schoeler, Écrire, 55; Schoeler, Oral, 122; Borrut, Entre, 17; Donner, Narratives, 276–282.
Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads 61 ᶜAlī’s legitimacy as Muhammad’s successor based on his merit as the first convert.131 Unlike Sulaym and al-Zuhrī, Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba (d. ca. 135/752) does not discuss the first to convert to Islam; however, he utilizes the theme of awā’il to recognize the first clan to accept Islam in his motherland, Medina.132 He states that the entire clan of Banū ᶜAbd al-Ashhal converted on the same day as their chief, Saᶜd ibn Muᶜādh, accepted Islam.133 Mūsā reveals that this clan was awwal dār min dūr al-anṣār aslamat bi-asrihā (the first clan among the [Medinan] supporters to convert entirely).134 Since the theme of the awā’il commands high esteem, Mūsā—a devoted Medinan traditionist—uses it to convey the Medinan clan’s significance as the first entire clan to embrace Islam.135 Therefore, the reports of Sulaym, al-Zuhrī, and Mūsā regarding the awā’il suggest that each author’s use of the theme reflects his own worldview and religio-political inclination. The examination of the theme of the awā’il in the works under study yields two important observations which can be a bridge to other themes. First, while it is obvious how historians utilize this theme to advance their religio- political sympathies, other themes, as we shall see shortly, are less clear. In fact, some do not seem to advance any sectarian or political message (e.g., themes of conversion among slaves or women). They mainly indicate that Muslims were circulating previously known traditions on conversion. The writers were choosing from a pool of traditions cherished by the believers. 131 Keshk, “Depiction,” 38, where he concludes, “Thus when we come to the civil war between ᶜAlī and Muᶜāwiya we have to believe that the latter knew that the former was higher in standing because of his early conversion.” Herbert Berg suggests the same in “ᶜAbbāsid Historians’ Portrayals of al- ᶜAbbās,” in ᶜAbbāsid Studies II, ed. Nawas, 17. 132 For the various ways the awā’il theme appears in historical narratives, see Noth/Conrad, Early, 104–108. Regarding Mūsā as born and living in Medina, see Ed., “Mūsā B. Uḳba al-Asdī,” EI2, 7:644. 133 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 90; on this clan, see Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 4:283; Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 1:443, 5:21 (on their notability); al-Dhahabī, Siyar, sīra 1:243, 286 (on their goodness and status according to Muhammad’s ḥadīth); Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ṭabaqāt, 1:139ff.; al-Samᶜānī, Ansāb, 1:278. On Saᶜd ibn Muᶜādh, see Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 3:320ff.; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 1:279ff.; Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, Istīᶜāb, 2:602ff. (converted by Muṣᶜab ibn ᶜUmayr); Ṣafadī, Wāfī, 15:95 (converted between the two ᶜAqaba pledges). 134 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 90. Mūsā adds a qualifying sentence, however, that the entire tribe accepted Islam illā man lā yudhkar (except just a few [who are not mentionable]), suggesting that few rejected Islam (another theme). See similar report in al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 1:295. 135 The clan of Banū ᶜAbd al-Ashhal was genealogically connected to two major tribes in Medina, the Aws and the Khazraj. See Ibn Ḥazm, Jamharat ansāb al-ᶜarab, 1:339, 1:471. Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba was known as al-Madīnī (of Medina). Al-Dhahabī, Tadhkirat al-ḥuffāẓ, 1:111; Ed., “Mūsā B. Uḳba al- Asdī,” EI2, 7:644. According to al-Dahabī, Mūsā was also identified as the mawlā of al-Zubayr ibn al-ᶜAwwām, the mawlā of Āl al-Zubayr, and al-Asadī (of Banū Asad) (1:111)—all these labels relate to the fact that he was the mawlā of the well-known companion al-Zubayr. The significance of Banū ᶜAbd al-Ashhal’s conversion appears in how, by joining the Muslims, the clan, according to al-Dhahabī, strengthened the Muslim community: As a result of the clan’s conversion, “Muslims became the strongest in Medina.” Al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 1:295.
62 Conversion to Islam Repeating well-known conversion narratives is thus a part of designing the overall historical account by the historian. Second, as we shall see in the following treatment of other themes, some are repeated more often than others. Thus, the conversion themes are not uniformly built or formed, and they are not always plainly politically or religiously driven. In addition to the awā’il theme, conversion topoi of significance include a common theme which highlights and praises genuine conversion. The theme refers to a convert as ḥasun islāmuh or islāmuhā, i.e., their conversion was good, sincere, and praiseworthy. The term claims that one’s islām is of the good and praiseworthy kind.136 This theme is often contrasted with insincere acceptance of Islam, which is a theme within topoi of compromise. The theme of ḥasun islāmuh usually identifies good deeds following conversion: destroying idols, constructing mosques, and performing pilgrimage, among others.137 One of its first occurrences appears in an account by Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba, where he discusses the conversion of ᶜĀmir ibn Fuhayra, emphasizing that ᶜĀmir was not only amīnan mu’tamanan (faithful and trustworthy) but also ḥasan al-islām (his Islam proved good, commendable, or praiseworthy).138 Mūsā claims that ᶜĀmir was ḥasan al-islām, as evidenced in the way he served Muhammad and Abū Bakr while they were in hiding in the cave.139 Therefore, the theme emphasizes the authenticity of an individual’s conversion, as reflected in their subsequent honorable and pious deeds. The importance of ḥasun islāmuh as a literary theme becomes evident when one wonders: If a convert is ḥasan al-islām, can there be another 136 Linguistically, we refer to a man as ḥasun islāmuh, or that his Islam was ḥasan: Compare, for instance, Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:517, and Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 106, respectively. In his work on Musaylima in Muslim literature, Al Makin transliterates the term incorrectly as ḥasan islāmuh and renders it as “his faith even improved.” Makin, Representing, 136. This rendition does not reflect the common use of the term, as it implies faith improving rather than conversion quality and sincerity. The theme is rarely studied in secondary literature. It is my assumption that this current study is one of the first to tackle the topic. 137 See, for instance, Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:517, 1:574. The precursor of the theme appears in Mūsā’s work. In the historical accounts under the ᶜAbbāsids, the theme will be repeated more often. See, for instance, Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim, Waqᶜat Siffīn, 214; Ibn al-Kalbī, Nasab, 1:239; Ibn al-Kalbī, Kitāb al- aṣnām, 1:16–17; al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 1:15, 1:77. For conversion reports involving idols, see Lecker, “Was Arabian Idol Worship,” 3ff. 138 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 106. On ᶜĀmir ibn Fuhayra, see al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 1:155, 349 (on him being a mawlā of Abū Bakr); Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ta’rikh, 1:76; Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ṭabaqāt, 1:51; al- Fasawī, Maᶜrifa, 3:254 (freed by Abū Bakr after conversion); al-Masᶜūdī, Kitāb al-Tanbīh, 1:212; al- Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 1:139–321 (among the early converts and Abū Bakr’s mawlā); Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 1:177–178 and 3:173–174 (precisely converted before Muhammad entered Dār al-Arqam); Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, Istīᶜāb, 2:796–797; Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 3:134. 139 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 107, where ᶜĀmir was yakhdimuhumā wa yuᶜīnuhumā (serving and supporting them). On the incident of al-ghār (the cave), see Ṭāhā Ḥusayn, al-Shaykhān, 24; al-Ruṣāfī, Kitāb al-shakhṣiyya al-Muḥammadiyya, 251–256.
Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads 63 convert who is not? It appears that Muslim narrators suggest religious significance when they emphasize the authenticity of one’s conversion—especially when contrasted with other themes which reflect inauthentic conversion, as will be shown soon. The ḥasun islāmuh theme thus fits well in conversion topoi of significance. The theme of ḥasun islāmuh is linked to the theme of good deeds—such as destroying idols and enduring persecution patiently—following conversion. In the earliest historical accounts, good deeds reflect sincere conversions. Al-Zuhrī writes of many Muslims who endured persecution after conversion: The pagan notables of the Quraysh, in reaction to ᶜUmar’s conversion, tortured many Muslims.140 The literary theme of good deeds following conversion appears here in its earliest precursors. In another report, al-Zuhrī states that al-Mughīra ibn Shuᶜba sought conversion after he murdered people in the jāhiliyya (pre-Islamic ignorance) and stole their money. Muhammad accepted his conversion but refused his money.141 The narrative contrasts al-Mughīra’s deeds before and after his conversion and also depicts Muhammad favorably, as he was more concerned with piety than with material gains. The thread of good deeds following conversion is evident. Like al-Zuhrī, Mūsā utilizes the same theme: Immediately after ᶜAmr ibn al-Jamūḥ, a chief of Banū Salāma, accepted Islam, many idols were destroyed in his clan.142 This narrative advances two themes: conversion of notables and conversion followed by good deeds. The significance of destroying idols upon conversion is evident in Mūsā’s comment wa kān al-muslimūn aᶜazz ahl al-Madīna (and the Muslims became the strongest of the people of Medina).143 A major point of the narrative is that the truthful conversion of an individual is evident in the commendable actions that follow, which lead to the elevation of Islam. It is common for Muslim authors to use one 140 Zuhrī 48. For a secondary study on ᶜUmar’s conversion, see Ṣallābī, Sīrat amīr al-mu’minīn ᶜUmar ibn al-Khaṭṭāb, 17–25. ᶜAlī Muḥammad al-Ṣallābī is a Salafi Libyan historian. He studied Islam in Saudi Arabia, Sudan, and Qatar. He lived in Yemen for a while, and moved to Qatar in order to study under Yūsuf al-Qaraḍāwī (1926–). 141 Zuhrī 53. On al-Mughīra, see Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 4:213–215, where the murdered people were Christian Melkites from Egypt. See also Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, Istīᶜāb, 4:1445–1447; Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 60:13–62; Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 5:238. 142 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 90, where Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba depicts the manner through which the anṣār accepted Islam, and states that qad aslam ashrāfuhā wa aslam ᶜAmr ibn al-Jamūḥ wa kusirat aṣnāmahum (their elites converted to Islam and ᶜAmr ibn al-Jamūḥ also converted, and their idols were destroyed). On ᶜAmr ibn al-Jamūḥ, see al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 1:295 (destroying idols); Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 2:33 (among the ashrāf, notable elites); Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, Istīᶜāb, 3:1168–1171; Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 4:194. Al-Balādhurī writes that ᶜAmr ibn al-Jamūḥ kān ākhir al-anṣār islāman (was the last to accept Islam among the anṣār). Al-Balādhurī, Ansāb al-ashrāf, 1:333. 143 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 90.
64 Conversion to Islam narrative to advance multiple points; consequently, one account can advance more than one conversion theme. The literary theme of ḥasun islāmuh is not only linked to the theme of good deeds following conversion but is also contrasted with the theme of refusing Islam. Rejecting Islam, as a literary theme, appears to prove the distinctiveness of the newly revealed faith, as it indicates that Islam, unlike prior revelations, was offered and people could choose to accept or reject it. Muslim historians often describe the rejecters of Islam unfavorably, portraying them as failures and contend that, despite their opposition, Islam continues to win over hearts and minds. This theme does not fit into topoi of compromise, as it does not reflect conversion, but it does indicate the significance of Islam in its open invitation to all, including those who reject it. This is one reason I prefer to include it in topoi of significance. Mūsā, relying on al-Zuhrī, writes that Muhammad’s call for people to accept Islam was rejected by many. In the years immediately preceding the hijra, Muhammad appeared before the Arab tribes every season.144 He offered himself to kull sharīf qawm (every notable among the people), using “no compulsion,” mainly because he needed the notables to “shelter and protect him” from the many Meccans who sought to kill him—but his efforts were in vain.145 Islam was rejected by many of al-shurafā’ (the notables) from the pagan Meccans. In addition, some Christians did not accept Islam. Mūsā mentions Ukaydar ibn ᶜAbd al-Malik, who was a Christian king of Kinda.146 After the victory over the Meccans, Muhammad sought to subjugate other areas in Arabia. He sent Khālid ibn al-Walīd with 420 warriors to capture Ukaydar. Khālid offered him Islam, and they negotiated: Ukaydar refused Islam and sought to give money and pay the jizya (tribute) in return for his life.147 In this narrative, we can identify several threads: a Muslim call for 144 In addition to qabā’il al-ᶜarab (the Arab tribes), he reportedly did the same with the people of al-Ṭā’if. See Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 86–87, where he writes yaᶜriḍ nafsah ᶜalā qabā’il al-ᶜarab fī kull mūsim. 145 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 86. According to Mūsā, Muhammad only desired to “proclaim risālāt (messages) of his Lord,” but “no one among them [the elites] accepted him.” 146 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 297–298. On Ukaydar, see al-Balādhurī, Futūḥ al-buldān, 61; see also the English translation of al-Balādhurī’s work, The Origins of the Islamic State, 95; Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ta’rīkh, 1:92–93; Ibn Ḥabīb, Muḥabbar, 1:114, 125; Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 2:126 (the meeting was in ah 9); Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, Istīᶜāb, 2:428 (Ukaydar was the king of Dūmat al-Jandal and originally from Yemen; the meeting was in ah 9); al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 2:645; Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 9:198–202 (reports of his conversion to Islam, others of his refusing Islam, and still others which state he converted and reverted); Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 1:273 (some say he converted, but Ibn al-Athīr rejects such reports and states that Khālid, during ᶜUmar’s caliphate, killed Ukaydar while he was mushrikan naṣrāniyyan, i.e., a Christian associater); Ibn Ḥajar, Iṣāba, 1:378ff. For secondary references on Ukaydar, see Schick, Christian, 55. 147 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 297–298. The negotiation between Ukaydar and Khālid ended with Ukaydar yielding to open his own citadel to Khālid and giving him two thousand baᶜīr (camels), eight hundred
Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads 65 conversion, Christians refusing Islam, and the reaction to non-converts. This account presents both how Muslim warriors sought possessions and how some Christians rejected Islam, choosing to pay the jizya rather than converting.148 Both Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba and al-Zuhrī mention another infamous case of rejecting Islam. It is the account of Mulāᶜib al-Asinna, also known as ᶜĀmir (or ᶜAmr) ibn Mālik.149 His narrative is often repeated in historical accounts, depicting him unfavorably and highlighting Muhammad’s virtues. Mulāᶜib came to meet Muhammad and offered him a gift. Instead of accepting the gift, Muhammad offered him Islam. When Mulāᶜib refused to convert, Muhammad refused to accept Mulāᶜib’s gift and said, innī lā aqbal hadiyyat mushrik (I do not accept a gift from an associater).150 This narrative emphasizes that Islam is more precious than any gift. It highlights Islam’s raqīq (slaves), four hundred dirᶜ (shields), and four hundred rumḥ (spears) in return for taking Ukaydar and his other brother, Muḍād, to Muhammad to judge the situation. When they came to Medina and met Muhammad, Ukaydar did not accept Islam. Muhammad spared their lives and offered them peace in return for the jizya (tribute). In another report, Mūsā mentions Ukaydar in addition to Yuḥanna (not written as Yūḥannā) as rejecting Islam after Muhammad called them to it (300). It should be noted that some later Muslim writers indicate that Ukaydar converted to Islam, or reverted from Islam after accepting it. See al-Balādhurī, Futūḥ al-buldān, 61; Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 9:198–202. Dūmat al-Jandal, where Ukaydar lived, was of economical and strategical importance; see Kennedy, The Prophet, 35, 52; Muir, Life, 225; Eph’al, Ancient Arabs, 121. 148 While this narrative suggests the Muslim warriors sought the wealth and possessions of the conquered people, it also introduces the jizya as an option given by the Muslims to the People of the Book in return for peace. This is evidenced in the reported killing of Ukaydar’s brother Ḥassān and salb (seizing) of his exceptionally expensive (golden) silk gown. Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 297. Moreover, the abundance of assets, slaves, and goods given by Ukaydar to Muhammad indicates the importance of spoils and gain to the Muslim leaders; to some extent, the possessions were of higher importance than gaining new converts, especially in the early Muslim period. See Ibrahim, Stated, ch. 3. 149 See Zuhrī 94–95; Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 207. His name means “The player with the Spears.” See Kister, “The Expedition of Bi’r Maᶜūna,” in Arabic, ed. Makdisi, 337; also Michael Lecker, “Were the Jewish Tribes in Arabia Clients of Arab Tribes?,” in Patronate, ed. Bernards and Nawas, 60; al-Ruṣāfī, Kitāb al-shakhṣiyya al-Muḥammadiyya, 533ff. For primary references on Mulāᶜib al-Asinna, see al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 1:346; Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ta’rīkh, 1:76; Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ṭabaqāt, 1:114, 469, calling him Abū al-Barā’ ᶜĀmir ibn Mālik ibn Jaᶜfar ibn Kilāb; Ibn Ḥabīb, al-Muḥabbar, 1:458; Ibn Ḥibbān, Thiqāt, 1:237, 4:231 (another person named Rabiᶜa al-Qaysī with the same name); Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, Istīᶜāb, 4:1450; Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 3:138, where Mulāᶜib did not convert to Islam and his name is ᶜĀmir, while in 4:255 he is rendered ᶜAmr, and the same narrative in 5:258 about ᶜĀmir; also in 6:362 is another claim that Mulāᶜib did not convert to Islam. See also al-Dhahabī, Siyar, sīra 1:449, 464; al- Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 2:236, 254; Ziriklī, Aᶜlām, 3:255, 7:286. See also Faizer, Life, 169–171, where he is mistaken in rendering the name as Malāᶜib not Mulāᶜib. 150 Zuhrī 94–95. According to al-Dhahabī, Mulāᶜib lam yuslim wa lam yabᶜud ᶜan al-islām (did not accept Islam, nor did he stay afar from it). Al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 2:236; a similar account in al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 1:346–347. Mulāᶜib’s narrative ends with him being murdered without accepting Islam. According to al-Zuhrī, Mulāᶜib assured Muhammad that he would defend Muslim warriors if they attacked Najd. Muhammad sent seventy companions with him to Najd, but they were murdered in Bi’r Maᶜūna. See also al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 1:347; Zuhrī 95, where some report the group was forty instead of seventy.
66 Conversion to Islam distinctiveness and its high value. It depicts Muhammad as valuing conversion above materialistic gain. Although Mulāᶜib rejected Islam, the narrative highlights intriguing features of Islam and Muhammad. The themes included in topoi of significance aim to reveal unique conversions and to highlight the unmatched nature of the Islamic calling. Conversion topoi of significance include three more themes which demonstrate the power of Islam to overcome social barriers. We read of conversion among the wujahā’ (notable elites, also known as ashrāf), slaves, and women.151 Highlighting conversion among these three social clusters emphasizes Islam’s capability of reaching across social obstacles within the tribal community. The three themes appear in various accounts by al- Zuhrī and Mūsā, while Sulaym adopts a different approach to advance his pro-ᶜAlid views. According to al-Zuhrī, while the kuffār (unbelievers) of the Quraysh denied that Muhammad received guidance from heaven, two men from ashrāf qawmih (the notables of his people)—Abū Bakr and ᶜUmar—followed him.152 In the same report, we learn that Umar’s sister, Fāṭima bint al- Khaṭṭāb, accepted Islam and hid parts of the Qur’ān to read it secretly.153 The
151 On the meaning of wujahā’, see “w.j.h,” in Ibn Manẓūr, Lisān al-ᶜarab, 13:558; al-Rāzī, Mukhtār al-Ṣaḥḥāḥ, 334; al-Fīrūzābādī, al-Qāmūs al-muḥīṭ, 1255. For examples of the notables of Mecca (wujahā’ Makka), see Jawwād ᶜAlī, Mufaṣṣal, 7:91–112 (Abū Sufyān 7:104; Abū Lahab, i.e., ᶜAbd al-ᶜUzzā ibn ᶜAbd al-Muṭṭalib 7:112; also the sons of ᶜAbd al-Muṭṭalib 7:82; ten families of notability in the Quraysh Umayya, Nawfal, ᶜAbd al-Dār, Asad, among others 7:112; for a reference on ashrāf and sādāt al-ᶜarab, see 7:99). See also al-Zubayrī, Nasab Quraysh, 1:17 (on ᶜAbd al-Muṭṭalib), 1:123 (on Abū Sufyān), 1:207ff. (on ᶜAbd al-ᶜUzzā), et passim; Ibn Ḥabīb, Muḥabbar, 1:164ff. (on the notables of the Quraysh, especially of Banū Quṣay); Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 3:47ff. (on Muhammad’s genealogy and his extended family from the Quraysh); W. M. Watt, et al., “Makka,” EI2, 6:144ff. As for women and slaves, see the recent study on women and slavery in early Islamic history, Gordon and Hain, Concubines, particularly the chapter by Elizabeth Urban, “Hagar and Maria: Early Islamic Models of Slave Motherhood,” ch. 12. For a progressive study which treats Muslim women’s history within its broader Middle Eastern context, see Leila Ahmed, Women, where she argues against practices, including seclusion and veiling, relying on classical accounts; also Sayeed, Women, where she writes of how Islam elevated the status of women, and challenges the notion that Muslim women have been historically oppressed and marginalized. See also the Brill project, Afsaneh Joseph et al., Encyclopedia. 152 Zuhrī 46. However, al-Zuhrī also observes that ᶜUmar converted to Islam only baᶜdamā aslam qablih nāsun kathīrun (after many converted before him). It should be noted that al-Zuhrī states that ᶜUmar rushed after conversion to meet Muhammad, who was, at the time, praying and reciting the Qur’ān. Hearing the Qur’ān, ᶜUmar declared Muhammad rasūl Allāh (the messenger of Allah). According to al-Zuhrī, at this moment ᶜUmar āman bih wa ṣaddaqah (believed [Muhammad] and trusted him). Zuhrī 47. The verbs aslam (accepted Islam) and āman (believed) appear simultaneously in al-Zuhrī’s report on ᶜUmar’s conversion; thus, ᶜUmar āman (believed), ṣaddaq (trusted), and aslam (converted to Islam) in one sentence. On the difference between aslam and āman from a Shīᶜite perspective, see Sulaym 173. For a recent study on Abū Bakr, see the dissertation of Akpinar, “Representations”; on Abū Bakr and ᶜUmar, see the work of Ṭāhā Ḥusayn, al-Shaykhān. 153 Zuhrī 46; see also Ibn Hishām and Ibn Isḥāq, Life, 155–156.
Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads 67 narrative’s point is that Islam successfully reached both notables and women. Again, we encounter an account that provides various themes. Al-Zuhrī also describes the conversion of the notable of the Thaqīf, al-Mughīra ibn Shuᶜba, who was a cunning warrior among his people.154 This is a significant addition to the Muslims, and the narrative includes more features which highlight the distinctiveness of his conversion. We are told that al-Mughīra was a thief and a murderer before his conversion. Muhammad accepted his conversion but rejected the stolen money.155 Contrasting al-Mughīra’s life before and after Islam highlights the significance of his conversion and how it led to more virtuous conduct. His conversion narrative includes not only the theme of notables embracing Islam but also the honorable deeds which followed.156 We see the repeated thread of Muhammad rejecting gifts from unbelievers, and we also encounter a unique case of a notable accepting Islam. Again, Muslim authors use one conversion account to establish several claims through various literary threads. Like al-Zuhrī, Mūsā writes of notables accepting Islam, especially among the Medinan anṣār: Saᶜd ibn Muᶜādh of Banū al-Ashhal and ᶜAmr ibn al- Jamūḥ of Banū Salāma.157 The result is that almost all of the Medinan notables converted.158 We see here the repeated literary pattern of using one narrative 154 Zuhrī 53. On Mughīra ibn Shuᶜba, see Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 4:213–214 (Mughīra was a notable among Arabs; the murdered people were Christian Melkites from Egypt); Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, Istīᶜāb, 4:1445–1447 (he was from Thaqīf, converted in the year of the Khandaq, equated with Muᶜāwiya and ᶜAmr ibn al-ᶜĀṣ as one of duhāt al-ᶜarab, shrewd and cunning warriors); Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 60:13ff.; Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 5:238 (among the notables in dahā’ [shrewdness and guile]); al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 3:21ff. (among the top companions, cunning, his role in the fitna between ᶜAlī and Muᶜāwiya). 155 Zuhrī 53. For secondary studies on al-Mughīra ibn Shuᶜba, see Anthony, Caliph, 252 (on his role as a governor of Muᶜāwiya); Fatima Mernissi, “Women’s Rights in Islam,” in Liberal Islam, ed. Kurzman, 119 (on his behavior with women); Adam Talib, “Topoi and Topography,” in History, ed. Wood, 146; Jamal Elias, “Seeing the Religious Image in the Historical Account,” in Material Culture, ed. Fleming and Mann, 287; Shaban, ᶜAbbāsid Revolution, 17 (as a warrior and governor of Kūfa). 156 Zuhrī 56. This theme of honorable deeds is also found in al-Zuhrī’s account of ᶜUmar’s conversion and how, upon accepting Islam, he had to divorce his two wives, whom he married in his shirk. Zuhrī 46ff. 157 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 90. The pattern is clear: A chief accepts Islam, followed by the entire clan in a collective “conversion,” which is another theme to be discussed later. On Saᶜd, see Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 3:320ff.; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 1:279ff.; Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, al-Istīᶜāb, 2:602ff.; Ṣafadī, Wāfī, 15:95. On ᶜAmr ibn al-Jamūḥ, see al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 1:295 (destroying idols); Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 2:33 (among the ashrāf, notable elites); Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, Istīᶜāb, 3:1168–1171; Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 4:194. Al-Balādhurī writes that ᶜAmr ibn al-Jamūḥ kān ākhir al-anṣār islāman (was the last to accept Islam among the anṣār). Al-Balādhurī, Ansāb al-ashrāf, 1:333. 158 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 90, where ḥattā qall dār min dūr al-anṣār illā qad aslam ashrāfuhā (very few homes of the anṣār did not have non-convert notables). Mūsā also writes of the Medinan anṣār, qad aslam ashrāfuhā . . . wa kusirat aṣnāmahum (their notables converted . . . and their idols were destroyed). ᶜAmr ibn al-Jamūḥ’s conversion not only represents a case of conversion of a notable anṣārī but also introduces another important conversion theme in historical narrative: destroying idols after conversion, which is discussed later.
68 Conversion to Islam to advance several conversion threads. In this case, the theme of notables converting to Islam is followed by a collective conversion (which is placed in a different set of topoi in our analysis), as individuals collectively embrace Islam. In the same vein, Mūsā states that ᶜUrwa ibn Masᶜūd, a notable chief of Thaqīf, accepted Islam upon meeting Muhammad, and that his people subsequently murdered him. However, after a prolonged negotiation, the delegation of Thaqīf came to Muhammad, “including some ten of their ashrāf (notable elites),” and accepted Islam.159 In ᶜUrwa’s conversion narrative, we encounter multiple themes: conversion of notables, conversion followed by persecution, conversion after meeting Muhammad, and collective conversion. Four themes are woven into one narrative. While the first two fit neatly within topoi of significance, the latter two are suitable for topoi of affirmation and compromise, respectively. In contrast to the theme of notables accepting Islam, Mūsā also reports slave conversions: ᶜUmayr ibn Wahab, a slave, accepted Islam and was a major player in his master’s acceptance of Islam.160 Slave narrative conversions are suitable for topoi of significance, as they reflect how Islam succeeded in reaching both rich and poor, overcoming social barriers. This account represents the initial occurrence in historiography of at least two themes: slave conversion (topoi of significance) and conversion due to preaching Islam to others (topoi of affirmation). Mūsā also recounts how 159 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 308. Michael Lecker demonstrates that Thaqīf ’s reluctance and prolonged negotiation to enter Islam were due to economic rather than religious concerns. Lecker, “Idol Worship,” 331–346. Thaqīf is a major tribe of al-Ṭā’if. Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam, 4:9–12; Ibn al-Kalbī, Nasab, 1:19, 125; al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 1:367ff. (reluctant to accept Islam, and tough in war); Ibn Ḥazm, Jamharat ansāb al-ᶜarab, 1:266–269; al-Samᶜānī, Ansāb, 3:139–141. On the murder of their notable by his Thaqīf people, Haykal writes that “ᶜUrwa had not laid down his life in vain,” as eventually they accepted Islam. Haykal, Life, 441. Mūsā’s report suggests their delegation came to Muhammad, as they yurīdūn al-ṣulḥ (wanted conciliation and peace), especially after they realized that Makka qad futiḥat wa aslam ᶜāmmat al-ᶜarab (Mecca was conquered and the vast majority of the Arabs converted to Islam). Ibn Shabba states that the delegation had more than ten men. Ibn Shabba, Ta’rīkh al- Madīna, 2:501. It is worth noting that the narrative of Thaqīf also introduces the theme of collective conversion (compromise topoi), which will be discussed shortly. 160 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 282. ᶜUmayr assured his master Ṣafwān that Muhammad was abarr al-nās wa awṣal al-nās (the most righteous and forbearing or relational man ever), and that he granted Ṣafwān amnesty. It should be noted that Ṣafwān became one of al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum, a group of certain eminence to Muhammad, who were granted gifts, for the purpose of reconciling and winning them over by appeasing their hearts. For how religious conversion and slavery were inextricably linked in medieval times, see the study by Craig Perry, “Conversion as an Aspect of Master-Slave Relationships,” which focuses on medieval Jewish law and practice, particularly in Egyptian communities, in Contesting, ed. Fox and Yisraeli, ch. 7. For slaves and slavery in Qur’ānic terms, see Jonathan E. Brockopp, “Slaves and Slavery,” EQ, 5:56–60. To a lesser extent, see the progressive views of Kecia Ali, Marriage, 133ff.; Gordon and Hain, Concubines, chs. 6, 9, 11. See also the valuable edited study, Willis, Slaves, especially ch. 1 (on the image of Africans in Arabic literature) and ch. 5 (on stereotypes and attitudes towards slaves in Arabic proverbs).
Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads 69 ᶜabd ḥabashī aswad (an Ethiopian black slave) from the people of Khaybar converted to Islam after he met Muhammad and learned that the reward for conversion was paradise.161 This report connects several themes: conversion among slaves, Jews (at Khaybar) rejecting conversion, and conversion as a result of encountering Muhammad or after hearing him preach. The theme of slaves embracing Islam highlights significance topoi, while conversion due to encountering Muhammad fits topoi of affirmation, as it emphasizes his honorable qualities and unique message. In addition to notables and slaves, topoi of significance include women embracing Islam. Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba, like al- Zuhrī, mentions women converting to Islam in two specific reports. First, he lists more than ten women who embraced Islam on the day of the conquest of Mecca, including the wives of notables, such as Hind bint ᶜAtaba, who was Abū Sufyān’s wife and Muᶜāwiya’s mother.162 After converting to Islam, the women gave their oaths of allegiance to Muhammad.163 While this narrative primarily 161 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 248–249. For slaves as an integrated part of society in Islam, see Levy, Social, 53–90. On the nature of slavery in Islam, see Clarence-Smith, Islam, 2–6, and for the “fragile Sunni consensus” on the embarrassing institution of slavery, see 22ff. On slaves, color, and race, see Lewis, Race, 20, et passim; Goitein, Studies, 203–204. See also Robinson, “Neck-Sealing,” 401ff., where he studies Arabic and Syriac sources for seventh-and eighth-century Syria and Iraq, focusing on the use of neck sealings of non-Muslims, and proposes that “neck-sealing related to other stigmatizing practices, and was principally symbolic and punitive”; see especially his discussion on sealing slaves (407). The theme here is also related to the conversion of some Jews—a theme within topoi of supremacy, which will be discussed later. This slave heard the people of Khaybar plotting together about fighting “that man who alleges to be a prophet.” The slave went to Muhammad and asked what he was calling for. Muhammad said, “I am calling to Islam and for you to testify that there is no god but Allah and that I am Muhammad the apostle of Allah and that you do not worship any but Allah.” See Goldziher, Introduction, 171, as he studies a tradition regarding an Ethiopian Kharijite slave; cf. Crone, “ ‘Even,’ ” 59–67, where she examines a tradition to elevate ᶜbd ḥabashī (an Ethiopian slave) to the caliphal office. For a classic and general study on slavery in the ancient Near East, see Mendelsohn, Slavery. 162 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 278–279. For a short secondary study on Hind, see Levy, Social, 95; see also his discussion on the status of women in Islam (91ff.); al-Ziriklī, Aᶜlām, 8:98. Hind is the first among these ten women, of whom five are mentioned by name, including Hind and Umm Ḥakīm, the wife of the well-known companion ᶜIkrima ibn Abū Jahl. On Hind, see Ibn Ḥibbān, Sīra, 1:219–222, 1:331, 2:554 (on her role at Uḥud); Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 8:188–189; Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ṭabaqāt, 1:39, 547; Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, Istīᶜāb, 4:1922; Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 70:166ff.; Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 7:281. On Umm Ḥakīm, see Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 8:205–206; al-Iṣfahānī, Maᶜrifat al-ṣaḥāba, 4:2171, 6:3420, 3484; Ibn ᶜAbd al- Barr, Istīᶜāb, 4:1932; Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 41:55ff., 70:223ff.; Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 1:643, 4:67, 7:309. 163 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 278–279. On the oath of allegiance as bayᶜa, see Andrew Marsham, “Oath of Allegiance,” in Princeton Encyclopedia, ed. Böwering et al., 401; see also his discussion on the oath of allegiance as particularly directed to Muhammad within the “Conquest Society”: Marsham, Rituals, 40ff. and 60ff., respectively. For women in the jāhiliyya, see Shepard, “Age of Ignorance,” EI2, 1:37ff., especially 38, where he compares Islam and pre-Islam regarding women. For Arab women and the “virtual” caste system, see Donner, Early, 11–50, especially 32. See also Hoyland, Arabia, 132, where he reflects on women’s roles in the Arabian society on the eve of Islam. On women in pre-Islamic Arabia, see El Cheikh, Women, 6ff.; Leila Ahmed, Women, 41ff. (ch. 3, “Women and the Rise of Islam”); Stowasser, Women, 120; Abbott, “Women,” 259–284. For recent studies on women in pre- Islamic Arabia, see Peters, “Introduction,” in Arabs, ed. Peters, xxxiii; also Donner, Early, 288 n.49.
70 Conversion to Islam describes women converting to Islam, it also indicates two more themes: collective conversion and conversion on the day of the conquest of Mecca, both of which will be discussed as themes within topoi of compromise. Second, Mūsā reports on the Jewess Ṣafiyya bint Ḥuyayy’s acceptance of Islam.164 Ṣafiyya’s conversion narrative is distinct in two important ways: First, it advances the theme of women converting to Islam (topoi of significance) and also that of Jews abandoning Judaism for Islam (topoi of supremacy). Second, while Mūsā’s reports tend to be brief, the account of Ṣafiyya’s conversion is particularly succinct.165 He states that Muhammad took Kināna’s family— including Safiyya—captive at Khaybar, and he iṣṭafāhā (chose her) for himself.166 Kināna’s family was part of the Jewish settlement at Khaybar. Mūsā does not explicitly declare that Ṣafiyya converted to Islam, as later Muslims historians redesigned the story.167 Based on Mūsā’s narrative alone, it would seem that Ṣafiyya was essentially a war captive.168 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba was not inclined to elaborate on her conversion, or perhaps she never converted to Islam, as other, later sources suggest.169 It is obvious that Mūsā’s reports on 164 See Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 251, 278–279. On Safiyya, see al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:673; Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ta’rīkh, 1:82, 86; Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ṭabaqāt, 1:640; Ibn Ḥabīb, Muḥabbar, 1:90 (the vision she saw); al-Fasawī, Maᶜrifa, 1:508; al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 2:421ff.; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 2:231–235; Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 2:82, 8:95ff.; Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 7:168; Ibn Ḥajar, Iṣāba, 8:210; al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 1:442–443. For secondary studies on Ṣafiyya, see Awde, Women, 10, 58–59, 85–90; Reuven Firestone, “The Prophet Muhammad in Pre-Modern Jewish Literatures,” in Image, ed. Gruber and Shalem, 33; see also al-Ruṣāfī, Kitāb al-shakhṣiyya al-Muḥammadiyya, 416ff.; al-ᶜUmarī, Risāla, 95–110. 165 Muḥammad Bāqshīsh Abū Mālik, the editor of Mūsā’s Maghāzī, had to expand the narrative by relying on other classical authors. Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 251. I will focus on the actual account attributed to Mūsā, not the additional notes by Abū Mālik. 166 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 251. 167 See al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:673, 2:709; al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 2:421ff; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 2:231– 235; Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 2:82; al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 1:442–443. See also Zubayr ibn Bakkār, al- Muntakhab min azwāj al-nabī, 49. The narrative of Ṣafiyya’s conversion is reported by Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, yet very short. Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ta’rīkh, 1:83. 168 From different accounts, including those of al-Wāqidī, al-Balādhurī, and al-Dhahabī mentioned in the previous footnote, we gather that Muhammad istaḥall (considered it lawful) to take Ṣafiyya and her female cousin captive, even though Ṣafiyya in particular was taḥt (under the [marriage] care) of Kināna, the chief of the clan; she was still ᶜarūs mā dakhalat baytahā (unmarried [and] has not yet entered her marriage home). Muhammad reportedly “killed her father, brother, husband and the entire clan.” Muhammad then offered her Islam, and she aslamat (converted). Then, he iṣṭafahā li-nafsih wa dakhal bihā (chose her for himself and consummated the marriage), even though many men were “hoping that he would give her to them.” While some feared she would kill Muhammad because of what he did to her husband, brother, father, and family, she reportedly told Muhammad that she saw a vision of the king of Medina and that she had anticipated encountering him to the extent that her husband slapped her upon hearing of the vision. For the different accounts, see Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 251, where the editor Bāqshīsh Abū Mālik provides several references. 169 Regarding secondary studies on Ṣafiyya and the debate over her being one of the Mothers of the Believers, see ᶜAbd al-Raḥmān, Nisā’ al-nabī, 165–175; al-Jamīlī, Nisā’ al-nabī, 115–116; Barbara Stowasser, “Wives of the Prophet,” EQ, 4:506–521; Musᶜad, Wives; Lings, Muhammad, 268ff., 277; Haykal, Ḥayāt Muḥammad, 326–336, 350, 358; al-ᶜUmarī, al-Risāla wa-l-rasūl, 95–110; Awde, Women, 10, 58–59, 85–90; Wessels, Modern, 114, 128–129.
Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads 71 Ṣafiyya were later expanded and integrated into more detailed accounts, and this redesigning of Ṣafiyya’s account is worth noting.170 The addition of further details indicates that the Muslim authors sought to represent or design conversion cases to appeal to their audience’s changing sociopolitical and religious concerns rather than to document an actual religious experience.171 Classical authors, it appears, needed to reinterpret the depiction of historical figures and events in order to address the varying social, political, and cultural needs of the Muslims. In early reports, it was sufficient that Muhammad chose Ṣafiyya for himself. Later historians, in contrast, operated in a different religio-political setting and had a different set of questions to answer—the narrative demanded more features to meet the needs of the day.172 This is evident not only in developments and added literary turns on Ṣafiyya’s conversion depiction, but, more important, in cases of controversial wujahā’ (notables)—including Abū Sufyān (d. 31/652) and al-ᶜAbbās ibn ᶜAbd al- Muṭṭalib (d. 32/653)—where the political orientation of the historian clearly dictates the scope and details of the historical narrative.173 Abū Sufyān (d. 31/652) is a major Umayyad notable, and his conversion is portrayed by al-Zuhrī and Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba. The depiction is unique in that it may represent pre-ᶜAbbāsid and pro-Umayyad views of the Quraysh’s leader, who was also the major opponent of Muhammad.174 Mūsā’s portrayal 170 This is called the “gobbling up” phenomenon by Chase Robinson, who defines it as “the integration of monographic works into composite and often very large compilations.” Robinson, Historiography, 34. Robinson states that this phenomenon “is a crucial feature of ninth-and tenth- century tradition, and goes some way towards explaining why so much of tradition’s earlier layers have fallen away” (34–35). In his assessment, this phenomenon explains “why we are left with what al-Balādhurī and al-Ṭabarī preserved of al-Madā’inī’s work, rather than al-Madā’inī’s work itself, and with what Ibn Isḥāq-Ibn Hishām preserved of al-Zuhrī’s work, rather than al-Zuhrī’s work itself ” (35). 171 Antoine Borrut writes of redaction and “successive phases” of historiography. Borrut, Entre, 61–108. Robinson, Empire and Elites, ch. 1, argues that historical accounts were highly influenced by the sociopolitical and religious concerns of the authors. See Petersen, ᶜAlī, 50, where he argues, “The formation of the historical tradition consists above all in reflections of the political and religious conflicts of its own age.” 172 Robinson, Historiography, 34–35; Petersen, ᶜAlī, 17; Crone, Meccan, 230. 173 On al-ᶜAbbās, see W. M. Watt, “al-ᶜAbbās B. ᶜAbd al-Muṭṭalib,” EI2, 1:8–9. On Abū Sufyān, see W. M. Watt, “Abū Sufyān,” EI2, 1:151. Note that, unlike Zuhrī and Mūsā, the ᶜAbbāsid writers affirm that Abū Sufyān is one of the mu’allafa qulūbuhum, on which briefly see Ed., “al-Mu’allafa Ḳulūbuhum,” EI2, 7:254, where Abū Sufyān and his sons Muᶜāwiya and Yazīd are among other Bedouin chiefs from the Hijaz who received benefits to convert. See also Watt, Muhammad at Medina, 73–75, 348–353, rendering it “those whose hearts are reconciled.” Rosenthal calls al- mu’allafa qulūbuhum the sympathizers of Muhammad. Rosenthal, Man versus Society, 404–405. It should be noted that the list of the mu’allafa qulūbuhum is given by ᶜAbbāsid writers, which means it generally treats Umayyad figures less favorably. See Ibn Hishām and Ibn Isḥāq, Life, 594–295; Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 2:492–493; al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 3:939. 174 For secondary studies on Abū Sufyān, see Jawwād ᶜAlī, Mufaṣṣal, 7:110ff.; Dangar, Career; also Gabriel, Muhammad, 169–170, where he portrays Abū Sufyān as a practical leader entering
72 Conversion to Islam is comparable to that of al-Zuhrī, as perhaps the former relied on the latter.175 As a point of reference, it should be noted that the pro-ᶜAbbāsid and anti- Umayyad depiction of Abū Sufyān’s conversion, which we find in Ibn Hishām’s Sīra, suggests that Abū Sufyān converted in order to save his life. He converted after a humiliating encounter with Muhammad and his Hāshimite companions in the presence of al-ᶜAbbās (d. 32/653), the ancestor of the ᶜAbbāsid dynasty. This pro-ᶜAbbāsid depiction of the Umayyad leader’s conversion shows him as an inauthentic Muslim who converted based on fear.176 In contrast, al-Zuhrī and Mūsā, who wrote under the Umayyads, do not portray Abū Sufyān’s conversion negatively;177 it is instead depicted as a genuine process of questioning and contemplating Muhammad’s prophethood and his message.178 While Abū Sufyān initially thought of into a secret deal with Muhammad; Humphreys, Muᶜawiya ibn Abi Sufyan, 31; to a lesser extent, Lecker, “Constitution,” 104, where he refers to the roots of the enmity between Abū Sufyān and Muhammad: “In the battle of Badr a son of Abū Sufyān was captured by the Prophet, but the former refused to ransom him”; see Michael Lecker, “Glimpses of Muḥammad’s Medinan decade,” in Cambridge Companion, ed. Brockopp, 74; also Keshk, “Depiction,” ch. 1, where he argues for “an effort by the early narrators to create parallels between Muᶜāwiya’s struggle against ᶜAlī and Abū Sufyān’s struggle against the Prophet” (8). For primary sources on Abū Sufyān, see Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ta’rīkh, 1:166 (Abū Sufyān’s death); Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ṭabaqāt, 39 (family and genealogy); Ibn Qutayba, Maᶜārif, 73–74 (his genealogy), 136 (Muhammad married his daughter), 344– 345 (his conversion immediately before the conquest of Mecca); al-Fasawī, Maᶜrifa, 3:167 (his family and genealogy); al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 3:368ff. (his conversion on the day of the conquest); al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 2:105ff.; Ibn Abī Ḥātim, Jarḥ, 4:426; Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, Istīᶜāb, 2:714; Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 23:421ff. (he converted after the conquest); Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 3:9 (he converted on the night of the conquest); Ibn Ḥajar, Iṣāba, 3:332. It is apparent that historians cannot determine his exact conversion date, whether before, on, or after the conquest of Mecca. 175 See Ed., “Mūsā B. Uḳba al-Asdī,” EI2, 7:644, where Mūsā “was a pupil of al-Zuhrī,” which is also asserted in primary sources such as: al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 1:221, 241, 326; 2:236, 403; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 1:179, 6:117, 10:361–362; Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr (d. 463/1071), Istīᶜāb, 3:1151; Ibn Ḥajar, Iṣāba, 1:309, 405; however, Ibn Ḥajar himself states that some believe the two never met. Ibn Ḥajar, Tahdhīb al-tahdhīb, 10:362. 176 There is a general scholarly consensus that the ᶜAbbāsid accounts tend to portray the Umayyads negatively. Sellheim, “Prophet,” 33–91. For Abū Sufyān’s conversion according to Ibn Hishām, see al-Sīra, 2:396ff.; Ibn Hishām and Ibn Isḥāq, Life, 548; cf. al-Ṭabarī, Ta’rīkh, 3:1633. Ibn Hishām’s accounts will be discussed in the following chapter. On the bias against the Umayyads in ᶜAbbāsid works, see Mu’nis, Tanqiyat uṣūl al-tārīkh al-Islamī, 53ff.; Borrut, Entre, 6, 8–9; Watt, Muhammad, 73–75, 348–353; however, for favorable views of the Umayyads by ᶜAbbāsid authors, see el-Hibri, “Redemption,” 241–265; also Petersen, ᶜAlī, 109ff., on the survival of the pro-Umayyad tradition after the ᶜAbbāsid revolution. 177 Zuhrī 87ff. Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 272. Unlike the Abbāsid-era accounts of Abū Sufyān’s humiliation by Muhammad, Fāṭima, ᶜAlī, and others, Abū Sufyān, in Zuhrī’s and Mūsā’s reports, appears to have kept his dignity and called his Meccan people to submit to Muhammad and the victorious troops. See, for instance, Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 2:396, where Abū Sufyān is labeled mushrik najis (unclean associater); Ibn Hishām and Ibn Isḥāq, Life, 547–548; this is not mentioned by Zuhrī or Mūsā. 178 Zuhrī 87ff.; Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 272. Both report that Abū Sufyān traveled at least twice between Mecca and Medina in order to talk and listen to Muhammad. See ᶜAbd al-Karīm, Quraysh, 382– 383, where he writes that Abū Sufyān was concerned with his own maṣāliḥ wa makāsib (economic interests and personal benefits) over any religious measures.
Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads 73 Muhammad as sāḥir kadhdhāb (a magician liar), he was eager to hear and learn about his message.179 Abū Sufyān traveled from Mecca to Medina in order to meet Muhammad, to avoid war, and to extend the Mecca-Medina treaty, Ḥudaybiyya.180 While he was not convinced of Islam during that meeting, Abū Sufyān was also not assaulted or humiliated.181 He returned to Mecca, but soon traveled to Medina for another visit with Muhammad. In that second meeting, Abū Sufyān was willing to declare the first part of the Shahada (believing in Allah), but not the second (claiming that Muhammad is Allah’s messenger).182 Then he accompanied al-ᶜAbbās to see the Muslims perform their ritual prayer, which significantly affected Abū Sufyān: He was astonished when he saw their unity and heard their call to prayer.183 179 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 272. For a discussion on Abū Sufyān’s conversion and resources on the historical narrative, see Ibrahim, Stated, ch. 3. According to al-Zuhrī, Abū Sufyān did not convert in haste, as he took time to meet Muhammad, talked and negotiated with him, then traveled back to Mecca. This was reportedly followed by another long journey from Mecca to Medina, where Abū Sufyān met for the second time with Muhammad, at which time the Meccan leader saw Muhammad’s troops and was granted amnesty before conversion. Zuhrī 87ff. 180 On the Treaty (or Raid) of Ḥudaybiyya, see W. Montgomery Watt, “al-Ḥudaybiya,” EI2, 3:539; Watt, Muhammad, 46–52; Lecker, “The Ḥudaybiyya-Treaty,” 1–11. 181 According to al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:814–823, Abū Sufyān was humiliated several times by al- ᶜAbbās and ᶜUmar; this is not found in earlier works. Al-Zuhrī indicates that, indeed, the Meccan leader failed to convince Muhammad to renew the treaty and was astonished at the mighty Muslim troops; moreover, Muhammad granted Abū Sufyān—and all those who entered his house—amnesty, before conversion (Zuhrī 87ff.); a similar account by Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 272. Compare this with the assault and humiliation Abū Sufyān received, according to Ibn Hishām, al-Sīra, 2:396ff.; Ibn Hishām and Ibn Isḥāq, Life, 548. According to Ibrahim, “When [Abū Sufyān] sought the intercession of Umm Ḥabība (Abū Sufyān’s daughter who became Muslim) on his behalf to Muhammad, she refused and called him mushrik najis (unclean associater). After that, he tried to speak with Muhammad to avoid the upcoming battle, but the Prophet ignored him completely. When he spoke with the Prophet’s daughter Fāṭima, she also refused to help. Finally, he sought the advice of ᶜAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib, who advised him to return to Mecca, as nothing would help and the war was already decided.” Ibrahim, Stated, 97. In examining ᶜAbbasid reports, Rudolf Sellheim argues that the humiliating conversation of Abū Sufyān with Muhammad’s family members, in which the Meccan leader submitted to and accepted Islam, is merely ᶜAbbāsid propaganda to question Umayyad loyalty to Islam, indicating that those related to Abū Sufyān were not actually “good” Muslims. Sellheim, “Prophet,” 33–91. See also Ṭāhā Ḥusayn, al-Shaykhān, 35–36. 182 Mūsā reports a long night of questions addressed to Muhammad. Abū Sufyān and his men entered to meet with Muhammad and asked him questions about faith. During this time, Muhammad daᶜāhum ilā al-islām (called them to Islam), asking them to testify that there is no god but Allah, and they did. He then asked them to testify that “Muhammad is the apostle of Allah,” and some testified, but Abū Sufyān did not, claiming, mā aᶜlam dhalik (I do not know that). Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 272. 183 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 272. This is different from al-Zuhrī’s account, in which Abū Sufyān did not actually convert until they approached the frontier of Mecca on their way back: Abū Sufyān shouted, calling to the Meccans, aslimū taslamū (accept Islam, you will be safe). His wife Hind grabbed his beard and called upon the Meccans, iqtulū al-shaykh al-aḥmaq fa-innah qad ṣaba’ (kill the foolish elder, as he has [become] Sabian). In response, Abū Sufyān swore, li-tusliminn aw li-yuḍribann ᶜunuqik (you either accept Islam, or you will be beheaded). Zuhrī 89. The role of al-ᶜAbbās in Abū Sufyān’s conversion in the accounts of Mūsā and al-Zuhrī is less emphatic when compared to the portrayal of, for instance, Ibn Hishām, where al-ᶜAbbās reproves, rebukes, and insults Abū Sufyān, which suggests a pro-ᶜAbbāsid inclination. On Ṣābi’a, see ᶜAbd al-Karīm, Quraysh, 205–222.
74 Conversion to Islam Consequently, he requested that al-ᶜAbbās take him back to Muhammad. When Abū Sufyān met Muhammad, he addressed him, “O Muhammad, I have sought the support of my gods and you sought your god and you have always won, so I testify you are the apostle of Allah.”184 Thus, Abū Sufyān accepted Islam completely, as he declared the second part of the Shahada.185 Unlike later historians, al-Zuhrī and Mūsā describe Abū Sufyān as a man on a journey of contemplation which resulted in conviction, rather than depicting him as a terrified coward.186 This pre-ᶜAbbāsid narrative is remarkable in its absence of hostility toward the Umayyad figure, unlike the pro- ᶜAbbāsid narratives. The task of describing the Meccan leader’s conversion was seemingly important to the Umayyad historians: They sought to depict it favorably, recognizing his significance to the Umayyad rulers.187 Once again, historians’ political orientation dictates historical representations. However, their positive reports are still somewhat contradictory: Did he convert before or after receiving Muhammad’s amnesty? Did he become Muslim or Sabian?188 Did his conversion occur immediately after he observed the Muslim ritual prayers or before he approached Mecca with the Muslim 184 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 272. Abū Sufyān realized the strength of the Muslim army, at which time he met with Muhammad’s paternal uncle, al-ᶜAbbās ibn ᶜAbd al-Muṭṭalib, who exhorted Abū Sufyān and those with him, “go to meet Muhammad and aslimū (convert to Islam).” In contrast to Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 2:396ff.; Ibn Hishām and Ibn Isḥāq, Life, 548, where al-ᶜAbbās insults Abū Sufyān, coercing him to accept Islam. On al-ᶜAbbās, see W. Montgomery Watt, “al-ᶜAbbās B. ᶜAbd al- Muṭṭalib,” EI2, 1:8–9. On Abū Sufyān, see W. Montgomery Watt, “Abū Sufyān,” EI2, 1:151. 185 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 272. It should be noted that, in al-Zuhrī’s account, Abū Sufyān’s family believed he had ṣaba’ (become Sabian), not aslam (Muslim). On the term, see François de Blois, “Sabians,” EQ, 4:511–512; François de Blois, “Ṣābi’,” EI2, 8:673–675; Fahd, “Ṣābi’a,” EI2, 8:675–678. It is not reported that Abū Sufyān declared the common acceptance of Islam, although al-Zuhrī’s account states three different times that ᶜUmar repeated the double Shahada during his conversion. Compare Zuhrī 89 to Zuhrī 47–48. Overall, Mūsā’s accounts are more favorable of Abū Sufyān than those of al-Zuhrī. 186 Unlike in Ibn Hishām’s account, Abū Sufyān here seems to have realized Muhammad’s power after he converted to Islam. Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 273. Compare with al-Ṭabarī, Ta’rīkh, 3:1633; Ibn Hishām, al-Sīra, 2:396ff.; Ibn Hishām and Ibn Isḥāq, Life, 548. 187 See Humphreys, Muᶜawiya ibn Abi Sufyan, 31, where he writes, “Abu Sufyan’s grandfather (Mu’awiya’s great-grandfather), Umayya, usually gives his name to the next group up the scale, the Banu Umayya or Umayyads.” We know that Abū Sufyān’s father, Ḥarb ibn Umayya, was the chief leader of the Banū Umayya in pre-Islamic Arabia. Jawwād ᶜAlī, Mufaṣṣal, 7:85, 7:104 (among the wealthy notables of Mecca). 188 Zuhrī 47–48; Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 272, where many claimed he had Ṣaba’. It is unclear whether it simply meant he changed his religion or that he became Sabian. On the Ṣābi’a and Sabians, see Muqātil, Tafsīr, 1:112, 493 (religion of Noah, related to Christianity); Ibn Ḥazm, al-Faṣl fī al-milal wa-l-ahwā’ wa-l-niḥal, 1:36–37 (their beliefs); 1:82 (similarities between Islam and Ṣābi’a); 4:6 (they worship stars, planets, and idols); 4:144; also al-Shahrastānī, Kitāb al-milal wa-l-niḥal, 2:62ff., 2:67– 103 (comparison between Ṣābi’a and Ḥanīfiyya). They are a religious group mentioned three times in the Qur’ān. See François de Blois, “Sabians,” EQ, 4:511–512; François de Blois, “Ṣābi’,” EI2, 8:673–675; T. Fahd, “Ṣābi’a,” EI2, 8:675–678; Lewis, Jews, 13, 20. For the verb ṣaba’, see Ibn Manẓūr, Lisān al- ᶜarab, 1:108; al-Fīrūzābādī, al-Qāmūs al-muḥīṭ, 108. The verb refers to someone who abandoned a religion for another, according to de Blois: “to convert to a different religion.”
Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads 75 troops? These questions cannot be answered definitively.189 Nevertheless, it is obvious that the accounts of al-Zuhrī and Mūsā portray Abū Sufyān more favorably than later accounts written under the ᶜAbbāsids. This most likely reflects a pro-Umayyad layer of historiographical narrative which made the ᶜAbbāsid cut.190 While his conversion, according to Zuhrī’s and Mūsā’s accounts, advances the theme of notables’ conversion (topoi of significance), the later ᶜAbbāsid depictions reflect insincere conversion out of fear for his life (topoi of compromise), which will be analyzed in the following chapter. Abū Sufyān’s conversion narrative in al- Zuhrī’s and Mūsā’s accounts demonstrates how pro-Umayyad inclinations shaped the historical accounts of this notable Qurashite, whose grandfather’s name is given to the first Islamic dynasty. Just as Abū Sufyān meant a great deal to the Umayyads, al-ᶜAbbās ibn ᶜAbd al-Muṭṭalib (d. 32/653) did to the ᶜAbbāsids. The depiction of al-ᶜAbbās’s conversion by historians operating under the Umayyads is worth examining, as it also represents a historical report shaped by political orientation. Al-ᶜAbbās (d. 32/653) is not only a notable Meccan and paternal uncle of Muhammad;191 he is also the progenitor of the ᶜAbbāsids.192 While the ᶜAbbāsid-era historians view and portray him favorably, the Umayyad-era writers did not necessarily aim to do so.193 He did not mean a great deal to 189 Later historians are even more confused about Abū Sufyān’s conversion: Ibn Qutayba, Maᶜārif, 344–345 (places his conversion before the conquest of Mecca); al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 3:368ff. (his conversion occurred on the day of the conquest); Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 23:421ff. (he converted after the conquest); Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 3:9 (he converted on the night of the conquest). 190 See el-Hibri, “Redemption,” 241–242, where he studies pro-Umayyad historical accounts which survived the ᶜAbbāsid hostility. See also Petersen, ᶜAlī, 109ff.; Borrut, Entre, ch. 1. 191 For primary sources on al-ᶜAbbās, see al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 4:1–22 (Muhammad defends al- ᶜAbbās’s position in fighting against the Muslims in Badr, and states that he converted in secret on the night of al-ᶜAqaba, before the hijra, and was a spy for Muhammad at Badr); Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 4:3ff. (three years older than Muhammad, and converted in secret); Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ta’rīkh, 1:86, 168 (his life and death); Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ṭabaqāt, 29 (family and genealogy); Ibn Qutayba, Maᶜārif, 374 (his family); al-Fasawī, Maᶜrifa, 1:493ff. (his family and career); al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 3:373ff. (his conversion took place after he paid ransom for himself); al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 2:78ff. (he converted in secret before the hijra); Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, Istīᶜāb, 2:810ff. (he converted before Badr and was a spy for Muhammad in Mecca); Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 26:273ff. (he converted before the hijra in secret, yet declared his conversion after he was taken captive in Badr); Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 3:163 (he converted before the hijra); Ibn Ḥajar, Iṣāba, 3:511 (various contradicting accounts on his conversion: He participated at Badr with the Meccan pagans unwillingly, attended the ᶜAqaba Pledge before his conversion, and acted as a spy for Muhammad). 192 For secondary studies on al-ᶜAbbās, see Jawwād ᶜAlī, Mufaṣṣal, 7:91, 8:251, 9:251 (his role in Mecca’s life), 13:310 (wealthy, lender), 14:117–128 (used ribā, i.e., debt usury, and Muhammad forbade it); Herbert Berg, “ᶜAbbāsid Historians’ Portrayals of al-ᶜAbbās b. ᶜAbd al-Muṭṭalib,” in ᶜAbbāsid Studies II, ed. Nawas, 13–38; Watt, “al-ᶜAbbās,” EI2, 1:8–9; Petersen, ᶜAlī, 88, 119, where he explains how ᶜAbbāsid writers advocated for the position of al-ᶜAbbās over ᶜAlī; Asad Ahmed, Religious, 13, 35, 64 n. 280, 108, 135. See also Crone, Nativist Prophets, 88. 193 See Watt, “al-ᶜAbbās,” EI2, 1:9, where he states, “there was a tendency for historians under the ᶜAbbāsids to glorify [al-ᶜAbbās], and in his case it is particularly difficult to distinguish fact from
76 Conversion to Islam the Umayyads, and his conversion narrative confirms this.194 The date of his conversion is disputed.195 It is unclear whether he was an early convert or a persistent pagan. Al-Zuhrī states that al-ᶜAbbās fought against the Muslims during the Battle of Badr and that he was taken captive to the extent that Muhammad had to rescue him.196 This is a negative depiction of al-ᶜAbbās. It identifies him as a pagan after fifteen years of Muhammad’s prophethood and initial calling for Islam. The depiction also paints al-ᶜAbbās as a weak underdog in battle who needed rescue. In pre-ᶜAbbāsid accounts, al-ᶜAbbās was not Muslim, and there was no need to embellish, mitigate, or preclude that embarrassing report.197 However, the ᶜAbbāsid-era historians aimed to fix this negative narrative. In an attempt to portray al-ᶜAbbās favorably, later historians provide contradictory reports about his conversion. We are told that al-ᶜAbbās converted before the Battle of Badr in secret because he feared his people, that he was a devoted ally to Muhammad, and that he served as spy among the Meccans.198 Once again, we witness how political fiction.” Regarding Watt’s assertion, Berg argues, “it is impossible to distinguish fact from fiction.” Herbert Berg, “ᶜAbbāsid,” in ᶜAbbāsid Studies II, ed. Nawas, 13. 194 As discussed, it is a fact that the vast majority of our Arabic sources date back to the ᶜAbbāsid period. Because al-ᶜAbbās serves as the eponymous ancestor of the ᶜAbbāsids, his depicted conversion should have meant a great deal to the ᶜAbbāsid writers. On the rewriting of historiography under the ᶜAbbāsids, see Borrut, Entre, 81; Lassner, Islamic Revolution, which studies the ᶜAbbāsid rhetoric against the Umayyads; al-Raḥmān, Judhūr, 91; Ibrahim, Stated, ch. 3. Al-Ṭabarī and Ibn Hishām acknowledge that al-ᶜAbbās, during the Second Aqaba Pledge, before Badr, was ᶜalā dīn qawmih (in the religion of his people or household). Al-Ṭabarī, Ta’rīkh, 3:1220; Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:441. 195 Herbert Berg examines various contradicting reports about al-ᶜAbbās’s conversion and his role at Badr, and concludes that “competing reports were circulated about al-ᶜAbbās—particularly evident in the reports about the Battle of Badr and the conversion of al-ᶜAbbās. Which, if any are authentic, I do not believe can be discovered given the available sources.” Berg, “ᶜAbbāsid Historians’ Portrayals of al-ᶜAbbās b. ᶜAbd al-Muṭṭalib,” in ᶜAbbāsid Studies II, ed. Nawas, 36. 196 Zuhrī 66. Unlike al-Zuhrī, ᶜAbbāsid writers create a strong connection between Muhammad and al-ᶜAbbās. See Ibn Hishām and Ibn Isḥāq, Life, 338; Ṭabarī, Ta’rīkh, 1290ff. See also Ibn al-Athīr, Kāmil, 2:22–23, where al-ᶜAbbās’s release caused Muhammad to cease worrying and sleep better, in an account similar to that of al-Zuhrī. For a later ᶜAbbāsid favorable portrayal of al-ᶜAbbās, see, for instance, the list of the virtues of al-ᶜAbbās as reported by Ibn Ḥabīb al-Baghdādī (d. 245/860), al- Munammaq, 38–41. On this, see Ibrahim, Stated, ch. 3. 197 This, according to Berg, “shows how relatively unimportant al-ᶜAbbās was in the central drama of Muḥammad’s biography as first recorded.” Berg, “ᶜAbbāsid,” in ᶜAbbāsid Studies II, ed. Nawas, 14. 198 Al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 4:1–22 (al-ᶜAbbās was Muslim during Badr, converted in secret before the hijra, and spied against the Meccans); Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 4:3ff. (he converted in secret). See also al-Dhahabī providing two contradicting accounts: in Ta’rīkh, 3:373ff. (al-ᶜAbbās converted after Badr) and in Siyar, 2:78ff. (he converted in secret before the hijra). See also Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, Istīᶜāb, 2:810ff. (he converted before Badr); Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 26:273ff. (converted in secret before the hijra and was forced to announce his conversion after being captured in battle); Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 3:163 (he converted before the hijra); Ibn Ḥajar, Iṣāba, 3:511 (more contradicting accounts on his conversion: He was Muslim at Badr, yet was forced to fight the Muslims; while he was pagan at the ᶜAqaba Pledge, he still supported Muhammad). See the recent study by Herbert Berg, as he writes, “What is clear is that [al-ᶜAbbās’s participation at Badr] was a source of embarrassment and several ᶜAbbāsid
Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads 77 orientation shapes the writing of history. The fact that conversion depictions are influenced by the preferences of the historians will be proven once more by the following example. The question is: In what way would a pro-ᶜAlid historian depict the conversion of ᶜAlī’s enemies? What should we expect? More precisely, how would the pro-ᶜAlid Sulaym ibn Qays report the conversion of the two Meccan notables Abū Bakr and ᶜUmar, who were among the top rivals of ᶜAlī? By now, and with the various examples given, we may deduce the answer. The pro-ᶜAlid Sulaym ibn Qays (d. 76/695) does not subscribe to the formula provided by later historians of the ᶜAbbāsid era, who claim that Abū Bakr was among the earliest—if not the first—to convert, and that ᶜUmar accepted Islam after hearing the Qur’ān. Disputing these reports, Sulaym depicts Abū Bakr and ᶜUmar negatively.199 For Sulaym, Abū Bakr and ᶜUmar—unlike ᶜAlī—did not show al-sābiqa fī al-dīn (early conversion) because they continued to worship idols after their declared conversion, an evil they regretted on their deathbeds.200 Sulaym also claims that Abū Bakr and ᶜUmar are the instigators of the ḍalāla (error and deception) among the Muslims; even Muᶜāwiya, according to Sulaym, affirmed the kufr (unbelief) of Abū Bakr, ᶜUmar, and ᶜUthmān.201 However, this does not suggest that Sulaym favors Muᶜāwiya. Sulaym, as a true pro-ᶜAlid, is skeptical of Muᶜāwiya’s conversion, asserting that he supported “liars and hypocrites” in exalting Abū Bakr, ᶜUmar, ᶜUthmān, and ᶜĀ’isha.202 Sulaym curses Muᶜāwiya for stealing the era historians made a concerted effort to mitigate or obviate that embarrassment.” Berg, “ᶜAbbāsid,” in ᶜAbbāsid Studies II, ed. Nawas, 36. 199 Sulaym 166, where genuine conversion is marked by both following Muhammad’s actions as exemplified in āl al-nabī (his household) and the rejection of ẓulm āl Quraysh (the injustice of the people of the Quraysh), which was committed against Muhammad’s Household. Acting justly as a mark of genuine conversion appears in Sulaym’s comparison of ᶜAlī and Muᶜāwiya: According to Sulaym, ᶜAlī is entrusted by the Prophet and identified as the best of Muhammad’s umma in the knowledge of the Qur’ān and Sunna (167), while Muᶜāwiya is reported to have paid the narrators and judges of Syria to fabricate accounts against Muhammad’s Household, specifically accusing ᶜAlī of murdering ᶜUthmān (279). In response, Sulaym curses Muᶜāwiya, who followed ᶜUmar’s footsteps in preventing people from seeking Allah’s path by lying in relation to Allah’s book and the Prophet, as well as belittling and deceiving ᶜAlī (279). 200 Sulaym 248, 249, 347–348, respectively. See also Ibn Shādhān, al-Īḍāḥ, 159. 201 Sulaym 418, 363, respectively. See a similar narrative by al-Masᶜūdī, Ithbāt al-waṣiyya, 145ff. Tunisian scholar Hela Ouardi adopts a similar interpretation regarding the characters of Abū Bakr, ᶜUmar, and ᶜUthmān. In her two recent books, she criticizes the three caliphs, rejecting their label, “califes bien guidés.” For her, they were impious, sought power and dominion, and betrayed Muhammad at his deathbed. See Ouardi, Les califes maudits and Les derniers jours, where she examines the last three days of Muhammad’s life and demonstrates the schemes of his companions to take power. See also Hichem Djait, al-Fitna, 26ff. Some identify Ouardi as a Muᶜtazilite. 202 Sulaym 279. For a contemporary defense of Muᶜāwiya, see the study of the Egyptian scholar Shiḥāta Muḥammad Ṣaqr, Muᶜāwiya ibn Abī Sufyān, 157ff. Ṣaqr is a member of the Salafi Shūra
78 Conversion to Islam khilāfa (succession to Muhammad) from ᶜAlī and for attempting to murder Fāṭima.203 All of these evil deeds, according to Sulaym, clearly indicate false conversion, especially as he contrasts them with manāqib (merits and virtues of) ᶜAlī.204 Arguably, Sulaym uses conversion themes to advance his religious and political agenda. Not only does the theme of notables’ conversion appear in historical accounts, but it is also affected by the historians’ political and religious orientations. This is evident when one compares Sulaym’s reports to those of the pro-Umayyad Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba. Both Sulaym and Mūsā discuss the succession to Muhammad after his death. The two historians view different persons as worthy of succeeding the prophet, in part due to their early conversion. In what appears to be a pre- ᶜAbbāsid, pro-Umayyad, and anti-ᶜAlid report, Mūsā claims that even ᶜAlī was convinced that Abū Bakr was more worthy of succeeding Muhammad. Mūsā writes that ᶜAlī and al-Zubayr—two major companions—referred to Abū Bakr as aḥaqq al-nās (the most deserving among all people) after Muhammad to become the caliph.205 After realizing that some reports claimed ᶜAlī was angry about Abū Bakr’s succession, Mūsā added literary features to fill in the gaps. We are told that ᶜAlī was reportedly angry that he was not consulted about the matter, but that he and al-Zubayr emphatically supported Abū Bakr for various reasons.206 Mūsā’s report demonstrates his pro-Umayyad inclinations. Contrary to Mūsā’s reports, pro-ᶜAlid Sulaym Committee in Egypt. The book refutes thirty-five accusations against Muᶜāwiya and elevates him as khāl al-mu’minīn (the uncle of the Believers). 203 Sulaym 385, 290, 386–387, respectively. On the Shīᶜite practice of cursing the enemies of ᶜAlī, see Dakake, “Loyalty,” 347ff.; al-Kūrānī, Ajwibat, 33–35, 78–85; Kohlberg, “Barā’a,” 139–175; Kohlberg, “The Term ‘Rāfiḍa,’ ” 1–9. 204 Sulaym 295, 381ff. For a smiliar portrayal of ᶜAlī, see al-Masᶜūdī, Ithbāt al-waṣiyya, 151–156, where the author lists some miracles of ᶜAlī. If Ithbāt al-waṣiyya is truly by al-Masᶜūdī, then he was a devoted Shīᶜite without a doubt. On al-Masᶜūdī’s tashayyuᶜ, al-Dhahabī claims he is Muᶜtazilite, not Shīᶜite. See al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 25:340ff., and Siyar, 15:569ff. Shīᶜite scholars identify al-Masᶜūdī as one of their authorities. See al-Najāshī, Rijāl, 254 (entry #665); Ibn al-Muṭahhar al-Ḥillī, Khulāṣat, 301 (entry #41). Ibn al-Nadīm and Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī mention al-Masᶜūdī without identifying his religious tendencies. See Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam, 4:1705 (entry #745), and Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 154. See also the statements of the renowned Shīᶜite Muḥammad Bāqir al-Majlisī, Biḥār al-anwār, 11:269, 271, 290, 298, where he affirms that al-Masᶜūdī is not only Shīᶜite but also the writer of Ithbāt al-waṣiyya. 205 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 336. 206 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 336. Mūsā states that the two companions supported Abū Bakr’s succession for three reasons: (1) because he was the companion Muhammad chose to stay with him in the cave on the day of the hijra, (2) because of his honor or dignity and righteousness, and (3) because Muhammad instructed Abū Bakr to lead the Muslims in prayer while the Prophet was still alive. In addition, Mūsā preserves a report attributed to Abū Bakr emphasizing that the first caliph affirmed that the muhājirūn were the earliest to convert to Islam, which makes them deserving of the succession of Muhammad.
Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads 79 makes completely different claims: Abū Bakr was not a true believer and never deserved to be Muhammad’s successor. The reports of Mūsā and Sulaym demonstrate once more how historians use conversion narratives to advance their religio-political claims. While the pro-ᶜAlid Sulaym accuses Abū Bakr of unauthentic conversion, Mūsā produces a report that ᶜAlī declared his support of Abū Bakr’s elevation. Mūsā even suggests that Abū Bakr accepted the caliphate only to avoid al- fitna (the civil strife or sedition) and division among the Muslims rather than to gain al-imāra (leadership or commandership).207 Therefore, historical reports on notables’ conversions are strongly influenced by the religious agenda and sociopolitical orientation of each historian. What a pro-ᶜAlid historian uses to advance a theme of insincere conversion (topoi of compromise), a pro-Umayyad author may demonstrate as authentic conversion of a notable elite (topoi of significance). To conclude this section, my argument is three-fold. First, precursors of conversion topoi of significance are found in early accounts attributed to Sulaym, al-Zuhrī, and Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba. Second, these topoi include themes of accepting Islam by the awā’il (firsts), wujahā’ (the notable elites), slaves, and women, in addition to referring to specific Muslims as ḥasun islāmuhum. Third, historical reports on conversion are shaped by the religious sympathies and sociopolitical orientations of the Muslim historians. This is evident in the various topoi of significance, as well as in conversion topoi of compromise, to which we shall now turn.
Topoi of Compromise Conversion topoi of compromise appear in historical accounts as a contrast to topoi of significance. Compromise, in this regard, refers to accepting Islam for any reason other than genuine and sincere religious conviction of the message of Islam. These topoi include various themes, such as conversion on the day of the conquest of Mecca, particularly among the so-called al-ṭulaqā’ (pardoned and set-free persons, sg. ṭalīq) and al- mu’allafa qulūbuhum (those whose hearts have not been reconciled).208 The themes also encompass collective conversion, conversion to save one’s 207 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 335. 208 For studies on ṭulaqā’ and al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum, see Bosworth, “Ṭulakā’,” EI2, 10:603; Ed., “al-Mu’allafa Ḳulūbuhum,” EI2, 7:254; Crone, Meccan, 214. It should be noted that al-mu’allafa
80 Conversion to Islam life, conversion to obtain materialistic gain such as spoils of war, and reversion from Islam.209 These themes appear, in their initial precursors, in accounts presumably written under the Umayyads, including those of Sulaym ibn Qays, al-Zuhrī, and Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba. The initial occurrences of these themes in accounts advanced under the Umayyads demonstrate their importance to early Muslims and their reflections of the religious and political concerns of the day. Sulaym ibn Qays distinguishes genuine belief from mere submission to power. He reports that ᶜAlī contrasted the two verbs aslam (converted) and āman (believed).210 While the act of believing is praised, mere conversion as qulūbuhum is a group from among the ṭulaqā’. The ṭulaqā’ are Meccans who embraced Islam to save their lives on the day of the conquest, among whom there was a group called al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum which received gifts and incentives from Muhammad in exchange for accepting Islam (Q 9:60). See detailed explanation by Riḍā, Tafsīr al-manār, 10:14, 10:229 (Muhammad gave the mu’allafa great incentives, and they were from among the ṭulaqā), 10:372, 408 (mu’allafa were weak in their faith and were from the ṭulaqā of the conquest of Mecca), 10:426 (the mu’allafa included two kinds: kuffār wa muslimūn, i.e., unbelievers and believers). See Thaᶜlabī, al-Kashf, 5:58–59, where he writes that the mu’allafa were Arabs who got money by converting. Muhammad yielded to them by granting them gifts, and, when they were satisfied, they declared, “this is a good religion”; however, when they disliked the gifts, they mocked Muhammad and left him. See al-Qurṭubī, Jāmiᶜ, 8:180–181, where the term mu’allafa qulūbuhum is negative, and Abū Sufyān and Muᶜāwiya are among the mu’allafa. See also Mujāhid ibn Jabr, Tafsīr, 370; Muqātil, Tafsīr, 2:176–177; al-Ṭabarī, Jāmiᶜ, 14:323, 18:7; al- Zamakhsharī, Kashshāf, 2:281–283. See Ibn Ḥajar, Fatḥ al-bārī, 1:80, where al-mu’allafa means ta’līf wa tajmīᶜ, i.e., reconciling, harmonizing, and bringing together: in 1:80 (Muhammad gave gifts generously to converts); 6:252 (they converted with weak conscience, or merely to lead their peers to Islam, presumably to strengthen the Muslims); 8:48 (al-mu’allafa were people of the Quraysh converted on the day of conquest and kān islāmu-hum ḍaᶜīfan, i.e., their Islam was of a weak kind; one of them was Ṣafwān whose conversion was questionable; some say they were kuffār [unbelievers] given money as an incentive; also a complete list including Muᶜāwiya and Abū Sufyān). See also al-Bayḍāwī, Anwār, 3:86 (al-mu’allafa converted but had weak acceptance; they were notables who were enticed to enter Islam in order to convert more of their peers); al-Shaᶜrāwī, Khawāṭirī, 6:3544, 11:6835. Regarding the importance of rewards for Arab soldiers and how Muhammad used these incentives to win over their hearts, see ᶜAbd al-Karīm, Shadwu al-rabāba, 1:75ff. 209 For a study on reversion in legal sources, see Simonsohn, “Conversion to Islam,” 647–662, where he argues that reversion reflects not only a change of heart regarding religion but also the existence of a social space within religious communities. See also Cook, “Apostasy,” 248–288. For a recent study on Muslims converting (or reverting) to Christianity under the Umayyads and ᶜAbbāsids, see Sahner, Christian Martyrs, 45–48, 92; Sahner, “Swimming,” 265–284; also Tannous, Making, 332ff., where he argues, “there is in fact a good deal of evidence to suggest that conversion, especially in the early centuries of Muslim rule, was a two-way street and that some Christian conversions to Islam simply did not stick” (332). 210 See Sulaym 173, where ᶜAlī tells Sulaym that al-īmān (believing) is al-iqrār bi-l-maᶜrifa (confessing or professing the knowledge [of faith]), while al-islām (converting) is mā aqrart bih wa- l-taslīm wa-l-ṭāᶜa lahum (that which you have testified about, and the submission and obedience to them). For the meaning of aslam, see “s.l.m,” in al-Rāzī, Mukhtār al-Ṣaḥḥāḥ, 153, where aslam relates to Islam and means istaslam (submitted); see Ibn Manẓūr, Lisān al-ᶜarab, 12:293, where aslam means istaslam wa inqād (surrendered and submitted), and islām wa istislām refers to inqiyād (surrender and yielding); also, islām means khuḍūᶜ wa iltizām (subordination and commitment); also al-Fīrūzābādī, al-Qāmūs al-muḥīṭ, 1122, where aslam means inqād wa ṣār musliman (yielded and became Muslim).
Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads 81 submission to power is despised.211 Sulaym emphasizes this distinction twice to align with his pro-ᶜAlid and anti-Umayyad agenda. First, he compares ᶜAlī’s sincere belief to Muᶜāwiya’s insincere conversion, as evidenced by their respective pious and unjust deeds.212 Second, Sulaym distinguishes between two kinds of converts: those who converted before the victory of Muhammad in the conquest of Mecca and fought with him during his affliction, and those who merely accepted Islam upon realization that they must submit to the victorious leader on the day of the conquest or after it.213 Conversion prior to or after the day of the conquest of Mecca is a repeated theme throughout historical accounts. Muhammad called those who embraced Islam on that day al-ṭulaqā’ (set-free persons, sg. ṭalīq).214 This term refers negatively to Meccans who surrendered and converted as a sign of submission to the victorious Muhammad, who freed instead of enslaving them.215 The term is likely anti-Umayyad.216 In Sulaym’s anti-Umayyad and pro-ᶜAlid accounts, we read that ᶜAlī degraded Muᶜāwiya, identifying him among the ṭulaqā’ and 211 See Sulaym 173, where ᶜAlī reveals that Gabriel appeared to Muhammad to explain the difference between al-īmān and al-islām: al-islām is the double Shahada, performing prayer, paying the zakat, fulfilling pilgrimage, fasting during Ramadan, and al-ghusl min al-janāba (ceremonial washing of the whole body after sexual intercourse or seminal discharge). Regarding al-īmān, it is to “believe in Allah, his angels, his books, his messengers, life after death, and al-Qadar in its entirety— whether good, bad, decent and bitter.” Obviously, this has come to be known as the Pillars of Islam and the Articles of Faith in their Shīᶜite version. See also Sulaym 175, 177, and 179, where the beauty of Islam is exemplified in and advanced by ᶜAlī. 212 Sulaym 166–167, 279. According to Sulaym, Muhammad trusted ᶜAlī and identified him as the best in the umma (Muslim community), while Muᶜāwiya was ungodly as evidenced by his actions, including paying money to narrators and judges in Syria to fabricate reports about ᶜAlī and Muhammad’s Household. 213 Sulaym 325. The context of Sulaym’s comparison between converting prior to and after the conquest of Mecca is found in his portrayal of ᶜAlī’s endeavor in the Battle of the Camel, in ah 36 in Baṣra. Sulaym was, according to his own report, a witness to this battle, accompanying ᶜAlī. Sulaym explains that, in this regard, those who converted after the conquest of Mecca were insincere and not fighting for Allah’s cause in support of ᶜAlī. 214 For the term ṭulaqā’, see Bosworth, “Ṭulakā’,” EI2, 10:603; Hawting, First Dynasty, 23. See Jawwād ᶜAlī, Mufaṣṣal, 14:153, where the ṭulaqā’ are the people set free in Mecca, while the ᶜutaqā’ (emancipated) are from Thaqīf. See Elizabeth Urban, “The Identity Crisis of Abū Bakra: Mawlā of the Prophet, or Polemical Tool,” in Lineaments, ed. Cobb, 125–126, where she discusses ṭulaqā’ and mawālī. 215 Being a ṭalīq on the day of the conquest was viewed negatively. See Ibn al-Athīr, Kāmil, 5:115, where the opposite of people of honor, notability, and dignity is tulaqā’, ṭuradā’, and sons of the curse. The reference is concerned with honoring Banū Hāshim in particular. Al-Balādhurī, Ansāb al-ashrāf, 2:74, 5:319. The term is negative, as evidenced by ᶜUmar ibn al-Khaṭṭāb preventing the ṭulaqā’ and their decedents from joining the shūrā (consultation) council of the Muslims. Al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 3:466; al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 10:434–435. See Hawting, First, 23, as he discusses the relationship between the tulaqā’ and another term, al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum (those whose hearts have not been reconciled), which will be discussed shortly. 216 Bosworth explains that the term ṭulaqā’ “was subsequently used opprobriously by opponents of the Meccan late converts, such as enemies of the Umayyads, the clan of Abū Sufyān who had previously led the Meccan opposition to Muhammad.” Bosworth, “Ṭulakā’,” EI2, 10:603.
82 Conversion to Islam affirming that they do not deserve to become caliphs.217 Conversion to Islam, for Sulaym, is not merely about professing submission and surrender. It must be preceded by al-īmān (the faith, or the believing) in the heart, which is subsequently reflected in good deeds. Sulaym’s treatment of disingenuous conversion serves his religio-political agenda in elevating ᶜAlī and degrading Muᶜāwiya. Like Sulaym, al-Zuhrī and Mūsā mention conversion in relation to the day of the conquest of Mecca. Yet, unlike Sulaym, they do not describe it negatively, most likely due to their pro-Umayyad inclination, considering the major notables of Banū Umayya who converted on that day.218 They use three main conversion themes regarding the acceptance of Islam after Muhammad’s victory over the Meccans: (1) collective conversion of clans and delegates, (2) conversion after defeat in battle, and (3) conversion of al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum, who converted upon receiving incentives from Muhammad. These three themes are not only linked to the theme of ṭulaqā’, but they also describe disingenuous conversion and are included in topoi of compromise. Regarding collective conversion and embracing Islam after defeat in battle, al-Zuhrī reveals that, on the day of the conquest, Muhammad sent Khālid ibn al-Walīd to fight the Quraysh’s people in the southern parts of Mecca. Khālid defeated them, yet Muhammad spared them and they converted.219 These are among the so-called ṭulaqā’, although al-Zuhrī does not use this negative label because it does not fit his pro-Umayyad agenda.220 In another report, he 217 See Sulaym 288, 325, 337. See also the similar pro-ᶜAlid account by Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim, Waqᶜat Ṣiffīn, 29–30. This claim suggests that only the muhājirūn (Meccan emigrants) had the honor and right to be caliphs. On this claim, see Afsarddin, “In Defense of All Houses of Worship?” in Just Wars, ed. Hashmi, 55. Urban concludes that the word ṭulaqā’ “does not seem to entail walā’. Certainly, no source ever argues that the Qurashī ṭulaqā’ became Muḥammad’s mawālī.” Urban, “The Identity,” in Lineaments, ed. Cobb, 125–126. On Muᶜāwiya, see al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 3:119ff.; al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 4:306ff.; Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ṭabaqāt, 1:39, 547; Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, Istīᶜāb, 3:1416ff.; Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 5:201ff.; also Rifāᶜī, ᶜAṣr al-Ma’mūn, 1:15–37; Crone, Meccan, 197–198; Crone, Nativist Prophets, 4, 136; Keshk, “Depiction”; Petersen, ᶜAlī, 59–60 (Mūᶜāwiya as portrayed by Abū Mikhnaf), 98, 125 (as depicted by al-Madā’inī), 108 (in Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim’s accounts), et passim; Humphreys, Muᶜawiya. See also the valuable study on Muᶜāwiya by ᶜAbbās al-ᶜAqqād, Muᶜāwiya, 12ff., 123ff. 218 Major figures of Banū Umayya, including Abū Sufyān, Muᶜāwiya, and Ṣafwān, embraced Islam on (or after) the day of the conquest, becoming from al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum. Ibn Ḥajar, Fatḥ al-bārī, 6:252, 8:48 (kān islāmuhum ḍaᶜīfan, i.e., weak Islam; their list includes Abū Sufyān and Muᶜāwiya). Al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 3:119ff.; Muqātil, Tafsīr, 2:176–177 (Abū Sufyān is among al-mu’allafa). On al- Zuhrī’s support of the Umayyads, see Judd, Religious, 52–61, where al-Zuhrī is one of the “pillars of Umayyad piety.” Petersen, ᶜAlī, 60. 219 Zuhrī 90. 220 The term ṭulaqā’ is used by pro-ᶜAlīd and ᶜAbbāsid writers and avoided by pro-Umayyad narrators. See its usage by Ibn Ḥishām, Sīra, 2:412; Ibn Ḥibbān, Sīra, 1:337, 2:536, where Muᶜāwiya is one of the ṭulaqā’. al-Kalāᶜī, Iktifā’, 1:510; al-Suhaylī, Rawḍ, 7:232. Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim (d. 213/
Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads 83 states that all those who initially fought among the Quraysh’s troops entered Islam after their defeat by Muhammad’s army.221 He reports that, after the victory, Muhammad, his warriors, and man aslam yawm al-fatḥ (those who converted on the day of the conquest of Mecca) marched back to Medina.222 Their conversion, according to al-Zuhrī, allowed them to participate in the following battle, Ḥunayn, and thus partake of the spoils of the great victory.223 These reports describe tribesmen accepting Islam either collectively or after their defeat in battle, or in an attempt to join the victorious camp to gain spoils. These themes reflect that which I identify as conversion topoi of compromise. Like al-Zuhrī, Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba mentions collective conversion: After Saᶜd ibn Muᶜādh, chief of Banū ᶜAbd al-Ashhal, converted, his entire clan converted.224 Collective conversion here serves as political allegiance rather than religious acceptance of a proclaimed faith. This is evidenced in the context of the Battle of Ḥunayn: The Muslims were victorious over the two Arab tribes, Hawāzin and Thaqīf, and many of the people of Mecca converted to Islam at that time.225 Conversion here reflects tribal allegiance rather than
828), Waqᶜat Ṣiffīn, 29–30. See Hawting, First, 23. It should be noted that Abū Sufyān and Muᶜāwiya, major Umayyad figures, are not only labeled ṭulaqā’, but also among the mu’allafa qulūbuhum, who received incentives for accepting Islam. See al-Kalāᶜī, Iktifā’, 1:538, where a list of names is given. Al- Qurṭubī, however, defends Muᶜāwiya and insists that those who consider him among the mu’allafa qulūbuhum are mistaken. Al-Qurṭubī, Jāmiᶜ, 8:180–181. However, undoubtedly al-Qurṭubī treats the mu’allafa qulūbuhum as a group whose faith is questionable, and thus dissociates Muᶜāwiya from them. See Petersen, ᶜAlī, 60 (Muᶜāwiya among the ṭulaqā’). More on the mu’allafa shortly. 221 Zuhrī 90. 222 Zuhrī 91. As for those who converted on the day of the conquest, al-Zuhrī does not elaborate on the significance of their acceptance of Islam on this day, although he identifies them not only as those who accepted Islam on the day of al-fatḥ (the conquest), but specifically as those who did so qabl Ḥunayn (before the Battle of Ḥunayn). He links their conversion to Islam with their participation in the Battle of Ḥunayn, and, thus, the reported victory. 223 See Zuhrī 91, where he asserts that naṣar Allāh nabiyyah wa-l-muslimīn (Allah made his Prophet and the Muslims victorious) at Ḥunayn. 224 See Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 90, where he states, f-aslamat Banū ᶜAbd al-Ashhal ᶜind islām Saᶜd ibn Muᶜādh (the tribe of Banū ᶜAbd al-Ashhal converted). On this clan, see Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 4:283; Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 1:443, 5:21 (on their notability); al-Dhahabī, Siyar, sīra 1:243, 286 (on their goodness and status according to Muhammad’s saying); also Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ṭabaqāt, 1:139ff. 225 See Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 286, where he writes aslam ᶜind dhalik nās kathīr min ahl Makka. Mūsā, as a religious writer, describes how Allah’s work brought the defeated people to Islam, and explains that their conversion occurred after Ḥunayn, “as they witnessed the victory of Allah granted to his Apostle and iᶜzāz dīnih (the exaltation of his religion).” While Muslim authors portray Allah at work in supporting the Muslims, Watt observes, “The phenomenal expansion was primarily a political expansion, and was based on the two concepts of razzia and federation together with a third that may be called military aristocracy.” Watt, “Islamic Conceptions,” 147. Hoyland, In God’s Path, 56. A similar report is mentioned at Zuhrī 93.
84 Conversion to Islam what is generally understood as spiritual conviction.226 In fact, both Mūsā and al-Zuhrī use the term islām Hawāzin, which refers to the conversion of the entire tribe at once after their defeat by the Muslims at Ḥunayn.227 The tribe’s submission and “conversion” imply an attempt to save their souls and relatives. They reportedly asked the Prophet to release their captive “mothers, sisters, aunts,” but Muhammad required them to choose between al-sabyy aw al-amwāl (the captives or the possessions); they preferred the former.228 This appears as a declaration of submission to a political leader rather than devotion to a religious preacher. Similarly, Mūsā reports the collective conversion of the wafd (delegation of) Thaqīf.229 The reason they approached Muhammad was that they “wanted conciliation and peace” after they realized “that Mecca was conquered and the vast majority of Arabs converted to Islam.”230 The people debated with Muhammad and negotiated for days, proving their reluctance to accept Islam.231 Their conversion took place finally as they talked privately, innā nakhāf in khālafnāh yawman kayawm Makka (we are scared that if we disobey him [we would receive] a day like [the conquest of] Mecca).232 The delegation declared, “We are unable to fight this man, as he adākh (paralyzed) all Arabs,” and thus they aslamū makānahum wa istaslamū (converted to Islam and surrendered).233 The mention of istislām (surrender) reveals their capitulation to an obvious tribal
226 Jessica Mutter examines the meaning of conversion in Arabic and Syriac sources from the first two centuries of Islam and concludes that the term is “largely inapplicable to Muslim and Christian writers’ understanding of religious change in the seventh-century Islamic context, and somewhat more applicable to such events in the eighth and early ninth centuries, though still not perfectly so.” Mutter, “By the Book.” See also Szpiech, Conversion, 16–17. 227 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 290–291; Zuhrī 93. Mūsā describes Muhammad arriving in al-Jiᶜrāna, where the captives of Hawāzin were held, wa qadimat ᶜalay-h wufūd Hawāzin muslimīn (and the Hawāzin’s delegations came to him as Muslims), including nine of their notable elites—they all aslamū wa bāyaᶜū (converted to Islam and gave the oath of allegiance). For a study of the delegations, see al- ᶜUmarī, al-Sīra al-nabawiyya al-ṣaḥīḥa, 541–546. 228 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 290–291. Muhammad taught the people of Hawāzin to al-tashahhud (state the Shahada) and how they should talk in order to receive their captives back. Eventually, the captives were released, and they were “6,000 of men, women, and children.” Zuhrī 93. 229 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 308; Zuhrī 93. Thaqīf is a major tribe of al-Ṭā’if. See Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam, 4:9–12; Ibn al-Kalbī, Nasab, 1:19, 125; al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 1:367ff. (they were reluctant to accept Islam, and were tough in war); Ibn Ḥazm, Jamharat ansāb al-ᶜarab, 1:266–269; al-Samᶜānī, Ansāb, 3:139–141. 230 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 308, stating Makka qad futiḥat wa aslam ᶜāmmat al-ᶜarab. 231 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 308–310; Zuhrī 93. The delegation questioned Muhammad about the second part of the Shahada, wine, adultery, and their goddess, among other things. Michael Lecker argues that their reluctance and prolonged negotiation to convert were due to economic concerns. Lecker, “Idol Worship,” 331–346. 232 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 312. 233 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 312. Mūsā attributes their conversion to Allah: alqā Allāh fī qulūbihim al-ruᶜb (Allah cast terror in their hearts).
Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads 85 defeat. Their conversion resembles a collective decision resulting from a deal between their elites and Muhammad.234 It is plausible to view collective conversion and conversion following defeat in battle as themes reflecting topoi of compromise. Insincere conversions appear specifically among the so-called mu’allafa qulūbuhum.235 The term refers to a group of Arabs who formerly opposed Muhammad but were swayed after the conquest of Mecca when he won their hearts over with gifts.236 The theme initially appears in Mūsā’s reports and is repeated by later historians. Mūsā tells of two individuals, Ṣafwān ibn Umayya and Ḥuwayṭib ibn ᶜAbd al-ᶜUzzā, who initially fled from Muhammad after his victory over the Meccans but were later assured of safety and thus converted.237 Ṣafwān was initially reluctant to accept Islam, 234 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 309–310. Even after their “conversion,” they reportedly kept negotiating with Muhammad about religious limitations and commands. He assured them that, unless they acknowledged Islam, there would be no ṣulḥ (peace or conciliation). 235 This term could be rendered as “those whose hearts have not been reconciled,” or “those whose hearts were to be reconciled.” See Ed., “al-Mu’allafa,” EI2, 7:254, where the term means “those whose hearts are won over” and is “applied to those former opponents of the Prophet Muḥammad who are said to have been reconciled to the cause of Islam by presents of 100 or 50 camels from Muḥammad’s share.” See Watt, Muhammad, 73–75, 348–353, where he writes, “The suggestion is that it was only this substantial gift that made these men accept Islam” (348). Rosenthal calls al- mu’allafa qulūbuhum the sympathizers of Muhammad. Rosenthal, Man versus Society, 404–405. On this term, see al-Shaᶜrāwī, Khawāṭirī, 9:5223ff. Abū Sufyān and his sons, Muᶜāwiya and Yazīd, are of the mu’allafa qulūbuhum. See Ed., “al-Mu’allafa,” EI2, 7:254, who, like other Bedouin chiefs from Hijaz, received benefits to convert. See also Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 5:201. It should be noted that the list of the mu’allafa qulūbuhum is provided by ᶜAbbāsid writers, which suggests its possible bias against Umayyad figures. See Ibn Hishām and Ibn Isḥāq, Life, 594–295; al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 3:939. See al- Kalāᶜī, Iktifā’, 1:538, where a list of al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum is found. For a list of names, see Ibn Ḥajar, Fatḥ al-bārī, 8:48. 236 For primary sources on the gifts al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum received, see Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 281– 283; al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 2:534, 560; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 2:540; Ibn Ḥabīb, Muḥabbar, 1:474; Ibn Ḥabīb, Munammaq, 1:386; Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 2:116; Ibn Manda, Maᶜrifat, 1:386–387; Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 15:348–364; Ibn al-Athīr, Kāmil, 2:140; Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 2:98; Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, Istīᶜāb, 1:399; al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 1:362, 11:15; al-Kalāᶜī, Iktifā’, 1:538. 237 See Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 281–283. See al-Kalāᶜī, Iktifā’, 1:508, where he places them both among al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum. On Ṣafwān ibn Umayya, see al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:853ff; Ibn Ḥibbān, Sīra, 1:340; Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ta’rīkh, 1:205; Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ṭabaqāt, 1:487; al-Masᶜūdī, Tanbīh, 1:234; Ibn al-Athīr, Kāmil, 2:122ff.; al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 2:534 (ᶜIkrima went to Yemen while Ṣafwān traveled to the sea); Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 2:114–116 (many mushrikūn went to fight in Ḥunayn with Muhammad, including Ṣafwān); Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, Istīᶜāb, 2:718–720. On Ḥuwayṭib, see al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:849ff. (on his fleeing on the day of fatḥ Makka); Ibn Ḥibbān, Sīra, 1:357; Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ta’rīkh, 1:223 (his death date in ah 54); Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ṭabaqāt, 1:64 (died in ah 52); Ibn Ḥabīb, Muḥabbar, 1:474 (Muhammad gave Ḥuwayṭib fifty she-camels); Ibn Ḥabīb, Munammaq, 1:386 (presenting Ḥuwayṭib as wise and notable); Ibn Qutayba, Maᶜārif, 1:342 (he is identified among al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum); Ibn al-Athīr, Kāmil, 2:140 (he is among the mu’allafa qulūbuhum who received incentives and gifts); al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 2:560 (Muhammad borrowed from him), 4:153 (died in ah 52), 4:200 (died in either ah 52 or 54); Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 2:116; Ibn Manda, Maᶜrifat, 1:386–387; Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, Istīᶜāb, 1:399 (on those who converted on fatḥ Makka when he was around sixty years old and received spoils of Hunayn, and that he was one of al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum); Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 15:348–364; Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 2:98; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 2:540; al- Balādhurī, Ansāb, 1:362, 11:15.
86 Conversion to Islam but the Prophet offered assurance and gifts and allowed him to participate in two battles while he was still a pagan.238 Muhammad showed him the abundance of spoils gained by Muslims, at which time Ṣafwān declared, mā ṭābat nafs aḥad bi-mithl hadhā illā nafs nabī (no soul would be delighted in such a thing except the soul of a prophet). He then repeated the double Shahada and converted to Islam.239 Ṣafwān reportedly believed that a prophet must love collecting spoils. His conversion reveals not only what it meant for him to enter Islam but also how Muhammad sought to win over specific key Qurashite notables.240 Similarly, Ḥuwayṭib ibn ᶜAbd al-ᶜUzzā initially fled from Muhammad but converted after the Prophet sent him messages of assurance, granting him and his family amnesty.241 Ḥuwayṭib, after conversion, gave Muhammad a loan and participated with him at Ḥunayn and al-Ṭā’if, and thus received an abundance of booty.242 Ṣafwān’s and Ḥuwayṭib’s acceptance of Islam reflects their desire to join a tribal camp for dominion and gain
238 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 282. Muhammad took Ṣafwān to the battles of Ḥunayn and al-Ṭā’if. Ṣafwān was not yet a convert. Muhammad reportedly treated people differently in this regard. Sometimes he allowed pagans to participate in battle, while at other times he refused. For instance, al-Wāqidī reports that Khubayb ibn Yasāf wanted to raid with Muhammad to gain spoils, but the Prophet refused, asserting that only Muslims could fight alongside him. Khubayb subsequently converted. Al-Wāqidī, Kitāb al-ridda, 1:47. However, al-Wāqidi also mentions Suhayl ibn ᶜAmr, who was not yet a convert when Muhammad gave him amnesty and took him as a soldier to Ḥunayn. Al-Wāqidī, Kitāb al-ridda, 2:847. For secondary sources on Ṣafwān, see Crone, Meccan, 87, 89–91, 129–131; Sara Nur Yıldız, “Battling Kufr (Unbelief) in the Land of Infidels,” in Islam and Christianity in Medieval Anatolia, ed. de Nicola et al., 339; Watt, Muhammad, 19; Ridgeon, Jawanmardi, 117, 152; Haykal, Life, 269–270, 272, 295, 436–441. 239 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 282. Ṣafwān’s conversion reflects how al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum became a group of certain eminence to Muhammad, and how the Prophet reconciled with them by appeasing their hearts with what they desired most, the spoils of war. See ᶜAbd al-Karīm, Quraysh, 382–383, where he writes that Ṣafwān was still mushrik (associater) when he gave Muhammad gifts, as he was not concerned with faith or piety, but rather wealth and possessions. 240 Al-Kalāᶜī, Iktifā’, 1:538, where he states that al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum were ashrāfan min ashrāf al-nās (notables among the most notables). Therefore, Muhammad’s decision to win them over was strategically important. Ṣafwān did not convert to Islam when he saw Muhammad praying, but months later, after he saw the plentiful spoils received after the battles of Ḥunayn and al-Ṭā’if. Ṣafwān realized Muhammad’s prophethood as specifically linked to the abundance of booty. Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 282. See Ibrahim, Stated, ch. 3. 241 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 282–283, where Mūsā reports that, on the day of Muhammad’s victory over the Meccans, Ḥuwayṭib stated, khift khawfan shadīdan (I was greatly terrified [for my life]). He immediately ran from his home, sent his children to safe places, and fled to Ḥā’iṭ ᶜAwf. However, Muhammad sent him a message with Abū Dharr, assuring him, lā khawf ᶜalyka anta āmin (fear not, you are safe). A similar narrative is found (279–281) regarding ᶜIkrima ibn Abū Jahl, who feared for his life and fled to Yemen, yet later converted. I did not include it here because I found no reference of ᶜIkrima as among the mu’allafa qulūbuhum. Since he converted to Islam after meeting Muhammad in person, I included the narrative in the following section on topoi of affirmation. 242 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 282–283. Ḥuwayṭib converted after receiving amnesty. For secondary studies on Ḥuwayṭib, see Haykal, Life, 272, 412, 458; Watt, Muhammad, 76; Madelung, Succession, 140, 301; Crone, Meccan, 91.
Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads 87 rather than their religious fervor. They, as part of al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum,243 most likely converted because they sought materialistic gain and social status, without any significant religious zeal. However, the mu’allafa appear to have impacted the early years of Islam tremendously due to their social status, particularly among the Meccan Quraysh. I contend that the conversion of al- mu’allafa qulūbuhum fits well within conversion topoi of compromise. Conversion topoi of compromise include one more theme: reversion after conversion.244 Al-Zuhrī introduces this theme when he reports the incident of al-Isrā’ (Muhammad’s Night Journey). When the Meccans heard that Allah brought Muhammad from Mecca to the Aqsa Mosque in one night, many doubted, and apostatized.245 They declared Muhammad a liar.246 Al-Zuhrī seems to view these apostates as weak believers, as evidenced in a report that a mushrik (pagan associater) man hastened to Abū Bakr and questioned how Muhammad could possibly travel to the Bayt al-maqdis in al-Shām in one night. Abū Bakr responded that, if Muhammad said he did so, then it was the truth.247 Reversion from Islam thus indicates a weak conversion initially. It advances conversion topoi of compromise. 243 See Ed., “al-Mu’allafa,” EI2, 7:254; Watt, Muhammad, 73–75, 348–353, rendering it “those whose hearts are reconciled.” Watt writes, “The suggestion is that it was only this substantial gift that made these men accept Islam” (348). On this term, see also Bearman et al., Islamic School, 128–129. Franz Rosenthal calls al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum the sympathizers of Muhammad. See Rosenthal, Man versus Society, 404–405. 244 On reversion as described in legal sources, see Simonsohn, “Conversion to Islam,” 647–662, where he traces reversion after conversion, calling it “a trend” in these sources, and argues that it indicates “the existence of a social space in which religious commitments were not perceived in sweeping terms, hence allowing for the movement back and forth between religions.” On reversion in pre-Ottoman historical sources, see Cook, “Apostasy,” 248–288. For conversion to Islam as being reversion to the true religion, see Karin van Nieuwkerk, “Islam Is Your Birthright,” in Cultures, ed. Bremmer et al., 163; similarly, Karin van Nieuwkerk, “ ‘Conversion’ to Islam and the Construction of Pious Self,” in Oxford Handbook, ed. Rambo and Farhadian, 669, where she writes, “Turning to Islam is thus re-turning.” See also Tannous, Making, 332–335, where he writes, “some Christian conversions to Islam simply did not stick” (332), particularly in the early centuries of Islam. Sahner, “Swimming,” 265–284. 245 Zuhrī 48. Zuhrī states that, when the Meccan people woke up and began telling the incredible story, irtadd unās mimman kān qad ṣaddaqah wa āman bih (some people reverted [or apostatized] after they trusted and believed in him). 246 Zuhrī 48. According to al-Zuhrī, when the people of Mecca heard the story of the Night Journey, they fatanū wa kadhdhabūh (rebelled and declared him a liar). The incident of the isrā’ perplexed classical Muslims, especially as to whether it was a physical miracle or merely a dream or vision. While Ibn Isḥāq’s account can be read as either, al-Ṭabarī emphatically viewed it as a physical miracle and accused Ibn Isḥāq of the kufr (unbelief or infidelity) and following the mushrikūn (associaters) in denying it had actually occurred. See al-Ṭabarī, Jāmiᶜ, 17:349–351. See Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:396ff., where only Muhammad’s rūḥ (spirit)—and not his jasad (body)—participated in the event (1:399), on the authority of ᶜĀ’isha, Muhammad’s wife. On the disagreement between Ibn Isḥāq and al-Ṭabarī regarding the incident, see the critical discussion of Tunisian scholar Nājiya al-Wurayyimī, Fī al- I’tilāf wa-l-ikhtilāf, 42ff. 247 Zuhrī 48, where he affirms this is why Abū Bakr was called al-siddīq (the truthful, or the believing one).
88 Conversion to Islam Like al-Zuhrī, Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba mentions reversion and treats it as a case of questionable acceptance of Islam. Mūsā writes of ᶜAbdullāh ibn Saᶜd ibn Abī Sarḥ,248 who reportedly accepted Islam, yet abandoned it altogether after the hijra.249 Mūsā’s account, unlike later historians’, is concise; however, he reports ᶜAbdullāh’s reversion as a case of weak acceptance of Islam in the first place.250 Muslim historians, including al-Zuhrī and Mūsā, describe reversion from Islam as a literary theme related to questionable conversion. It thus fits within topoi of compromise.251 In concluding this section, my argument is two-fold: Conversion topoi of compromise are detectable in the earliest Muslim accounts and appear in various literary themes, which emphasize joining Islam for questionable reasons—particularly insincere conviction of faith. Historians present the acceptance of Islam on the day of the conquest of Mecca as merely a political surrender. This theme is related to various others, including the conversion of the so-called ṭulaqā’ and mu’allafa qulūbuhum, which occurred after tribal deals or due to receiving substantial financial incentives from Muhammad. It 248 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 275. On ᶜAbdullāh ibn Saᶜd ibn Abī Sarḥ, see Ibn Hishām and Ibn Isḥāq, Life, 550; al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:855 (reporting he was ᶜUthmān’s foster brother, his apostasy, and how he changed the text of the Qur’ān); ᶜAbd al-Jabbār, Tathbīt, 2:466 (he changed the Qur’ānic text, as he did not trust Muhammad or his revelations); al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 2:553 (his apostasy and returning to Mecca); Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 2:107 (Muhammad ordered his murder on fatḥ Makka, but ᶜUthmān interceded for him); Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 2:491 (Muhammad’s order to kill him and ᶜUthmān’s intercession); al-Dhahabī, Siyar, sīra 2:180, 3:33–35 (after ᶜUthmān interceded for him, he returned to Islam and led the conquest to North Africa during ᶜUmar’s caliphate). See also Böwering, “Qur’an,” in Princeton Encyclopedia, ed. Böwering et al., 449. 249 We know from other sources that ᶜAbdullāh assisted Muhammad in writing al-waḥy (the revelations), and that, while he scribed them, he changed words. He reverted from Islam because he believed that, if a mere man could change the Qur’ān, it could not be divinely revealed. Al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 2:553ff.; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 3:33–35. 250 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 275. Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba mentions that ᶜAbdullāh wanted to return to Islam on the day of the conquest of Mecca. He wanted to re-enter Islam, most likely because Muhammad ordered him killed as he irtadd kāfiran (apostatized, becoming an infidel). ᶜUthmān ibn ᶜAffān, who was ᶜAbdullāh’s foster brother, spoke with Muhammad and interceded for ᶜAbdullāh. Eventually, Muhammad pardoned him. 251 It is noteworthy that al-Zuhrī mentions a case of doubting Islam, although it did not lead to reversion. In his account of the treaty of Ḥudaybiyya (6/627), he details the negotiation between Muhammad and Suhayl ibn ᶜAmr. Muhammad was willing to sign the treaty, yielding to Suhayl’s insistence to replace “In the name of Allah, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful” with the common pagan statement b-ismika Allāhumma (in Allah’s name), as well as identifying himself as Muhammad ibn ᶜAbdullāh instead of the apostle of Allah. This matter infuriated Muslims, who viewed it as compromising their religion. In reaction, ᶜUmar doubted Islam altogether, stating, “I never doubted [Islam, or the prophethood of Muhammad] as I did on the day of Ḥudaybiyya.” However, he obviously did not revert. Zuhrī 54–55. Avraham Hakim studies several early Islamic traditions which confront the authority of Muhammad with that of ᶜUmar ibn al-Khaṭṭāb. He also traces how competing traditions were at play at times to support the caliph’s authority, but later Muslims “preferred to formulate its law based on the prophetical authority and not the caliphal one.” See Hakim, “Muḥammad’s Authority,” 181–200. On the doubting, see Saḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, volume 3, book 50, number 891. Doubting Islam after conversion is also mentioned by al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 1:35, 1:72.
Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads 89 is also related to the theme of collective conversion of delegations and tribes who united to offer allegiance to the victorious leader after the conquest. Additionally, we traced a theme of reversion after conversion, which is usually depicted as a consequence of an initial weak encounter with the faith. There are three final observations to make. First, all of these literary themes appear in their initial precursors in accounts presumably written under the Umayyads, but they are repeated and refurbished in sources from the ᶜAbbāsid era.252 Second, historians use these themes to advance their political views and religious perspectives by redesigning the narratives, often adding or removing literary features. Thus, Muᶜāwiya’s conversion is depicted differently by the pro-Umayyad al-Zuhrī and the pro-ᶜAlid Sulaym. In pro-Umayyad accounts, Muᶜāwiya joined Islam and became a convert, while, in pro-ᶜAlid anti-Umayyad reports, he was merely one of the ṭulaqā’ and mu’allafa qulūbuhum who sought to gain worldly incentives without sincere conviction in his heart. Thus, conversion is portrayed as tribal negotiation after defeat in battle or as genuine belief after religious encounters, depending on the religio-political sympathies of the historian. I argue that, while these themes do not necessarily reference actual events, they do reveal the contexts of their documentation and the religio-political inclinations of the historians. Third, conversion topoi of compromise, I contend, appear in contrast to conversion topoi of significance. While the latter emphasize honorable and genuine conversion experiences, the former present a different meaning behind conversion: surrender to political dominion.253 In addition to these two sets of conversion topoi, Muslim historical accounts advance two more sets: topoi of supremacy and topoi of affirmation, which stress the uniqueness of Islam and its successful reach and hegemony. We will now turn to these.
Topoi of Supremacy Conversion topoi of supremacy emphasize the religious hegemony of Islam over other religions, particularly Judaism and Christianity. These topoi are 252 See in particular Donner, Narratives, 145, where he argues, “After [the mid-second century ah], the purveyors of narratives of Islamic origins continued to develop the material by reorganizing, recombining, or reinterpreting it, and (occasionally) by introducing completely new concerns.” 253 See Szpiech, Conversion, 16–17, where he argues for various meanings of the term “conversion.” See also Mutter, “By the Book.”
90 Conversion to Islam detectable in themes of conversion of the ahl al-kitāb (Scripture people, particularly Jews and Christians). The major aim of the theme, I argue, is to highlight how Islam successfully convinced the adherents of pre-Islamic revelations. It serves as evidence of the superiority of Islam and demonstrates how it effectively surpassed Judaism and Christianity. At the outset, there is one important observation concerning the frequency of the incidents related to this theme in Umayyad-era accounts: We encounter only a few occurrences. One may wonder: Why did Muslim historians not write about Jews and Christians converting to Islam? Later historians described repeatedly how Islam won over Jews and Christians, so why were Umayyad-era writers unconcerned with the matter? It is evident that the theme of ahl al-kitāb converting to Islam is present in its precursors in the Umayyad-era historical accounts, but it occurs more frequently in sources from the ᶜAbbāsid era. This is significant, because it reaffirms one of the major arguments of this study: Literary themes respond to the sociopolitical necessities and religious requirements at the time of writing. In the early period under the Umayyads, conversion to Islam occurred at a slow rate in the conquered lands.254 During that early period, Muslim historians were not necessarily concerned with providing proof of Islam’s supremacy. It was a time of expansion, as Islam was being formed and the shaping of the religious identity of the believers was underway. In a sense, the nascent community of Muhammad’s followers did not yet have a sharp sense of its own identity or rituals.255 Muslim historians, it seems, were more concerned with political and religious debates among the Muslims themselves. This is why I argue that conversion themes did not emerge randomly—they aimed to legitimize and emphasize matters of interest to the authors and their audience.256 While the reports from the Umayyad era are scarce, those that exist suggest that Muslim historians were keen to emphasize relevant conversion themes for 254 See the quantitative research of Bulliet, Conversion to Islam and “Conversion-Based Patronage.” This was also evident in the creation and disappearance of the mawālī (non-Arab Muslims), according to Elizabeth Urban, who argues the term almost disappeared when Islam became the faith of the majority in conquered lands. Urban, “Early Islamic Mawālī.” 255 See the arguments of Donner, Muhammad, 85, 66–69, et passim, where he describes the origins of Islam as an “ecumenical” Believers’ movement, in which the followers of Muhammad could be joined by Jews or Christians who were monotheists. Donner’s arguments on the Believers’ movement initially began in his more scholarly discussion, “From Believers to Muslims,” 9–53. His arguments received strong critiques from several scholars. See Tannous, “Review,” 126ff.; Sinai, “The Unknown Known,” 47–96. 256 See Donner, Narratives, 149, 156, 160, 174ff., where he argues that historiographical themes respond to and emerge from sociopolitical concerns and religious debates within the Muslim community.
Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads 91 their day, particularly the various pro-Umayyad or pro-ᶜAlid dispositions. They did not seek to repeatedly address non-Muslims, particularly Jews and Christians in the conquered lands, about the supremacy of Islam. This was needed in later periods, when Muslim interaction with the conquered people from ahl al-kitāb grew and required the advancement of religious claims of Islam’s hegemony.257 This is one reason why, I contend, the theme of the conversion of ahl al-kitāb appears less often in Umayyad-era works than in ᶜAbbāsid-era sources. As with topoi of supremacy, topoi of affirmation are scarce in Umayyad-era accounts, which we shall see in the following section. Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba refers to ahl al-kitāb, particularly Jews, accepting Islam in his account of the raid of Banū Qurayẓa.258 In the aftermath of expelling the Jews of Banū al-Naḍīr and the reported treachery of Banū Qurayẓa, Muhammad fought the latter and “killed their men, and divided their women and children and possessions among the Muslims.”259 However, some of these Jews “followed” Muhammad and converted.260 While the whole narrative is polemic against the Jews, describing conversion serves to demonstrate the new faith’s supremacy.261 In another incident, Mūsā reports conversion 257 Fred Donner refers to various historiographical themes, including hegemony, in Narratives, 144. My definition of topoi of supremacy is similar to Donner’s description of themes of hegemony. Albrecht Noth also identifies various topoi. While neither of them examines Islamic hegemony and supremacy, Noth’s description of topoi serving “to Glorify Former Times,” particularly his “Summons to Islam” theme, is helpful. Noth/Conrad, Early, 146–165. 258 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 213. 259 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 213. For a study on the Jews, particularly of Yemen, under Muslim rule in early Islam, see Tobi, Jews of Yemen, 34–46; see his examination of the Jewish-Muslim tribal relations (142–155). For Muhammad’s treatment of the three major Jewish tribes in Medina—Qaunuqāᶜ, Naḍīr, and Qurayẓa—see Ibrahim, Stated, ch. 3; al-Qimanī, Ḥurūb, 2:262; Kister, “Massacre,” 61. For modern Muslim views and interpretations regarding the harsh treatment of the Jews, see the apologetic approach of Ramadan, Understanding, 78; Ahmad, Muhammad, 9–10; Adil, Muhammad, 392. Compare with the non-traditional interpretation of Djait, Fitna, 28, who, after calling the raid of Banū Qurayẓa majzara (butchery), argues that the incident inaugurated “a truly violent dawla (state)” where violence (as Arabs never saw it) became a frequent practice. See also al-ᶜUmarī, Mujtamaᶜ, 137–178; Stillman, Jews, 137; Böwering, “Muhammad,” in The Princeton Encyclopedia, ed. Böwering et al., 375; Lewis, Jews, 10, 83; Watt, “The Condemnation of the Jews of Banu Qurayza,” in his Early Islam, 1–11, and previously published as an article in 1952 with Muslim World. From a Qur’ānic perspective, see Uri Rubin, “Jews and Judaism,” EQ, 3:21ff. 260 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 213. Mūsā observes there were a few Jews who laḥaqū (followed) Muhammad; he granted them safety and they aslamū (converted). 261 The polemic aspect also appears in a case discussed earlier (in slave’s conversions), which reports on an Ethiopian black slave of a Jew from Khaybar, the Jewish settlement. The slave converted and saved Muhammad from an evil plot by the Jews. Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 248–249. The literature on religious polemic is bountiful. On Muslim polemic against ahl al-kitāb, see Waardenburg, Muslim Perceptions, 3–101, which includes valuable scholarly chapters on Muslim treatments of other religions in various periods: the early period (610–650), medieval period (150–1500), modern period (1500–1950), and contemporary period (1950–1995); in particular see Jane Dammen McAuliffe, “Christians in the Qur’ān and Tafsīr,” 106ff.; Camilla Adang, “Medieval Muslim Polemics against the Jewish Scriptures,” 143ff. See also Perlmann, “Medieval,” 103–138; Perlmann, “Muslim- Jewish Polemics,” 11:396–402. For an example of Muslim polemics against Christianity, its scripture,
92 Conversion to Islam among Jewish women when he describes Ṣafiyya bint Ḥuyayy’s acceptance of Islam, which we discussed earlier.262 While later works mention Christians accepting Islam, there are no reports in the accounts under study. However, Mūsā refers to the literary incident of Ukaydar ibn ᶜAbd al-Malik, the Christian king of Kinda, who rejected Islam and gave money to Muhammad and Khālid to spare his life.263 Ukaydar’s incident is not a case of conversion. Mūsā also mentions Ukaydar, in addition to Yuḥanna, rejecting Islam after Muhammad called them to it.264 The lack of references to Christians converting to Islam in the Umayyad-era works may reaffirm and reiterate the argument that literary themes address the religio- political requirements at the time of writing, as I explained earlier. These initial reports of the conversion of ahl al-kitāb are precursors of a developing theme which will appear frequently and develop more often in later sources, aiming to advance Islam’s supremacy. Its occurrences are infrequent in Umayyad-era works, which suggests that, although it was a matter of interest to Muslims, it was not a major concern of the day. In the early period of Islam, particularly during the Umayyad era, Muslim historians were not attempting to establish Islam’s hegemony because it was still an era of identity formation. They were more concerned with sectarian debates and political legitimacy than with establishing distinctiveness in contrast to other faiths. This is one reason we find more occurrences of themes related to topoi
and its historical interpretation, see Reynolds, A Muslim Theologian. For Qur’ānic polemic against other religions, see Azaiez, Le contre-discours; Sirry, Scriptural Polemics, where he argues that polemical discourse in religious texts develops in time and should be viewed as an interplay between various forces: “a situation gives rise to a certain polemic; the polemic reacts to this context and influences the situation” (200). For polemic in religious discourse, see Beck, Mature Christianity, 21, where he argues, “Polemic against other religious groups is common in the sacred scriptures of religious communities. This polemic ranges from subtle and abstruse to the overt and bitter.” 262 See Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 251, 278–279. On Safiyya, see al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:673; Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ta’rīkh, 1:82, 86; Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ṭabaqāt, 1:640; Ibn Ḥabīb, al-Muḥabbar, 1:90 (the vision she saw); al-Fasawī, Maᶜrifa, 1:508; al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 2:421ff.; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 2:231–235; Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 2:82, 8:95ff; Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 7:168; Ibn Ḥajar, Iṣāba, 8:210; al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 1:442–443. 263 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 297–298. 264 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 300. Interestingly, some later Muslim writers indicate that Ukaydar converted to Islam, or reverted from Islam after accepting it. See al-Balādhurī, Futūḥ al-buldān, 61; Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 9:198–202. On Ukaydar, Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ta’rīkh, 1:92–93; Ibn Ḥabīb, Muḥabbar, 1:114, 125; Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 2:126 (met Muhammad in ah 9); Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, Istīᶜāb, 2:428 (Ukaydar was the king of Dūmat al-Jandal and originally from Yemen); al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 2:645; Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 9:198–202 (reports of his conversion to Islam, others of his refusing Islam, and more which state he converted and reverted); Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 1:273 (some say he converted, but Ibn al-Athīr rejects such reports and states that Khālid, during ᶜUmar’s caliphate, killed Ukaydar while he was mushrikan naṣrāniyyan, i.e., a Christian associater); Ibn Ḥajar, Iṣāba, 1:378ff.
Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads 93 of significance and compromise in Umayyad-era sources. As I discussed in Chapter 1, it is an important argument in this study that topoi of significance and compromise chiefly address Muslims, while those of supremacy and affirmation address non-Muslims. This is why what we say here about the scarce occurrences of topoi of supremacy will be similarly true for the topoi of affirmation: There are few in Umayyad-era works, but they occur frequently in ᶜAbbāsid-era sources. Why would topoi of supremacy and affirmation occur more under the ᶜAbbāsids? It is my conviction that literary themes address the religio-political needs of the day. During the ᶜAbbāsid era, unlike the Umayyad era, Muslim historians were faced with growing interaction between Muslims and non-Muslims, including Christians and Jews. Historians felt the need to create a distinct Islamic identity, which sparked their concern to establish Islam’s originality and superiority over other religions, thus yielding topoi of supremacy and affirmation. The former establishes Islam’s hegemony, while the latter elevates Muhammad and his prophethood and qualities. This is the time in Islamic historiography when we encounter ample reports contrasting Islam with Judaism and Christianity, as well as elevating Muhammad as a true prophet like Moses and Jesus. While these topoi all started as precursor themes in Umayyad-era accounts, they grew exponentially in ᶜAbbāsid-era works. Now we will examine the affirmation topoi, which emphasize Muhammad’s qualities and the authority of his message, the Qur’ān.
Topoi of Affirmation Conversion topoi of affirmation aim to provide proof of Muhammad’s prophethood, his exceptional qualities over previous messengers, and the eloquence and beauty of the Qur’ān as his divinely inspired message. They are present in literary themes such as conversion due to meeting Muhammad in person, reading his name in pre-Islamic scriptures, and hearing the recitation of the Qur’ān or the preaching of Islam from family members.265
265 Donner refers to the theme of nubuwwa (prophecy) in Narratives, 149ff. See also Wansbrough, Sectarian Milieu, 27, as he refers to the mabᶜath literature. On Muhammad as an unmatched convincing proclaimer, see al-ᶜAqqād, ᶜAbqariyyat Muḥammad, 19ff. On the theme of prophecy or prophethood, see Stroumsa, “Signs,” 101–114, where she argues that the theme includes “a list of arguments meant to support the claim of one particular prophet, and his superiority over other prophets” (102).
94 Conversion to Islam Al-Zuhrī mentions an early account of conversion due to hearing the recitation of the Qur’ān: ᶜUmar ibn al-Khaṭṭāb accepted Islam after hearing Islam’s scripture recited.266 This initial occurrence is a precursor to many later descriptions of the Qur’ān affecting conversion. Like al-Zuhrī, Mūsā mentions conversion as a result of hearing the Qur’ān, but he combines it with conversion due to encountering Muhammad’s name in pre-Islamic scripture. Mūsā narrates the early stages of the conversion of the anṣār (Medinan supporters): When they heard of Muhammad’s preaching, they believed his message because they learned about the upcoming prophet from ahl al-kitāb (the People of the Book).267 The report implies that the scriptures of Jews and Christians confirm the advent of Muhammad; thus, the People of the Book should accept his prophethood. The theme of conversion due to hearing the Qur’ān and that of conversion as a result of meeting Muhammad are both themes of topoi of affirmation. Mūsā also writes that some of these anṣār traveled to Mecca, where Muhammad met them, told them about his received revelation, and recited the Qur’ān to them. They became confident of his message and their hearts were satisfied.268 This prompted them to tell their Medinan relatives about
266 Zuhrī 47. When ᶜUmar heard the Qur’ān, taḥarrak qalbuh ḥīn samaᶜ al-Qur’ān wa waqaᶜ fī nafsih al-islām (his heart moved when he heard the Qur’ān and Islam entered his soul). In Arabic, it is phrased ᶜUmar’s Islam, referring to his conversion to Islam. The reports of ᶜUmar’s conversion are contradictory. Ibn Hishām, for instance, provides a different story. See Ibn Hishām and Ibn Isḥāq, Life, 155–156, where it is reported, “ᶜUmar became a Muslim after the prophet’s companions had migrated to Abyssinia.” Della Vida observes, “There is some contradiction among the historical and biographical traditions on ᶜUmar b. al-Khaṭṭāb, and many of these contain exaggerated or legendary details.” Della Vida and Bonner, “ᶜUmar (I) b. al-Khaṭṭāb,” EI2, 10:818–821. For references in primary sources on ᶜUmar ibn al-Khaṭṭāb (d. 23/644), see Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ta’rīkh, 122ff (his caliphate); Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ṭabaqāt, 55; Ibn Qutayba, Maᶜārif, 1:182–189 (his caliphate and clients); al- Fasawī, Maᶜrifa, 1:455–466 (his character and traits); al-Masᶜūdī, Tanbīh, 1:150ff (his caliphate); al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 1:172ff. (his conversion; he converted after forty men and ten women, but his conversion brought Islam to light in Mecca), 3:87ff. (his caliphate); Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 3:201–285 (his conversion and caliphate); Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, Istīᶜāb, 3:1144ff. For secondary studies on ᶜUmar, see Haykal, Life, 127ff. (his conversion added to Islam and reduced the power of the Quraysh), 254 (his justice), 540ff. (his shock after Muhammad’s death); Haykal, al-Fārūq ᶜUmar, 41ff.; al-ᶜUmarī, al-Sīra al-nabawiyya al-ṣaḥīḥa, 177–180; al-ᶜUmarī, ᶜAṣr al-khilāfa al-rāshida, 75ff.; Numani, Umar, 3–73 (ᶜUmar’s role in the conquests), 75ff (his government), et passim; Crone, Nativist Prophets, 10 (his reported character, soft heart), 43–44 (Shīᶜite perspective on him); Crone, Meccan, 93ff., 96–98; Kennedy, Armies, 60–64 (his reign model), 71–75 (the difference between his dīwān and the Umayyads in terms of administration); Kennedy, Great Arab Conquests, 51–54, 75–76, 91–93; Kennedy, Prophet, 41–44, 49ff. (his role and achievement in the conquests), and 86 (his caliphate). On ᶜUmar’s conversion and its various accounts, see Ṭāhā Ḥusayn, al-Shaykhān, 124ff.; al-ᶜAqqād, ᶜAbqariyyat Muḥammad, 24–25. 267 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 88ff. 268 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 88ff. Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba observes that this early group of the anṣār, ṣaddaqūh wa tatabbaᶜūh (believed and followed [Muhammad]).
Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads 95 it, and thus many converted.269 Here we add the theme of conversion due to preaching Islam to relatives to affirmation topoi. These initial conversion descriptions (because of hearing the Qur’ān, meeting Muhammad, or preaching Islam) not only establish precursors of conversion themes but specifically aim to affirm the divine value of Islam’s message and its Prophet. In the narrative of these anṣār accepting Islam, we encounter another incident of conversion due to preaching Islam to relatives. Not only does Mūsā indicate that the anṣār preached Islam to relatives after conversion, but al-Zuhrī too advances similar threads. When ᶜUmar converted to Islam, says al-Zuhrī, he could not wait to inform his uncle al-Walīd ibn al-Mughīra, as well as the notable Qurayshites: ᶜUmar entered their assemblies and boldly declared the double Shahada publicly.270 ᶜUmar’s preaching to his relatives enforces one more time the notion that Islam’s message successfully spreads through the preaching of new converts to their relatives and peers, thus affirming the faith and its proclaimer. Conversion as a result of preaching Islam fits neatly within our designed topoi of affirmation. Conversion as a result of meeting Muhammad appears in Mūsā’s accounts of two specific individuals: Surāqa ibn Mālik and ᶜUmayr ibn Wahb.271 Both Surāqa and ᶜUmayr converted after encountering Muhammad in person;
269 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 89. Because of their preaching of Islam, “there were very few homes among the anṣār which had no converts to Islam,” to the extent that they sent to Muhammad in Mecca asking him to send a believer to instruct them about the basics of faith and call people through the Book of Allah. 270 Zuhrī 48. After hearing ᶜUmar preaching, al-Walīd tried to dissuade him by telling him that people usually change their opinions between day and night. However, ᶜUmar stated, “by Allah, this [conversion] matter is clear to me, so tell your people of my (conversion to) Islam.” On al-Walīd, see Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 4:98–100. His Quraysh people said that ṣaba’ ᶜUmar (referring to the Sabians sect; see my explanation of the term earlier in the case of Abū Sufyān). Because ᶜUmar was sayyid qawmih (his people’s notable master), they did not question him. When he saw they were unaffected by his conversion, he went to their assemblies, stood next to the Kaᶜba, and addressed the people of the Quraysh, declaring the double Shahada. The narrative describes ᶜUmar as a heroic preacher of Islam. It most likely serves as an anti-ᶜAlid representation, considering ᶜUmar’s significant role in opposing ᶜAlī. Consider this: Zuhrī writes that many were enraged with ᶜUmar, and in revenge, they fought him qitālan shadīdan (heavily); ᶜUmar fought back over the entire day, until they finally left him. The narrative indicates “heavy fights,” in which he won over many Qurayshite notables. 271 On Surāqa, see Ibn Hishām and Ibn Isḥāq, Life, 225, 292, 319; al-Suhaylī, Rawḍ, 4:140ff. (chasing Muhammad to receive Quraysh’s prize), 5:67, 141 (Satan appearing as Surāqa); ᶜAbd al- Jabbār, Tathbīt, 2:367; al-Kalāᶜī, Iktifā’, 1:288–291; Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ta’rīkh, 1:157 (Surāqa died in ah 24); al-Fasawī, Maᶜrifa, 1:240; Ibn al-Athīr, Kāmil, 1:696; al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 1:324–328, 2:94 (Satan in Surāqa’s appearance), 3:308 (Surāqa converted and ḥasun islāmuh, i.e., showed genuine Islam); Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 1:147ff.; Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, Istīᶜāb, 2:581–582; Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 2:412; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, sīra 1:270–273; al-Samᶜānī, Ansāb, 7:116. On ᶜUmayr, see al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 1:125–128; Ibn Hishām and Ibn Isḥāq, Life, 318ff.; al-Suhaylī, Rawḍ, 5:139–141; Ibn al-Athīr, Kāmil, 2:28ff.; al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 2:71ff.; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, sīra 1:319ff.; Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 4:150–151; Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, Istīᶜāb, 3:1221ff.; Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 4:288.
96 Conversion to Islam however, the former had several encounters and did not convert quickly,272 while the latter’s conversion was immediate.273 They both initially tried to kill Muhammad, but because of his reported prophetic abilities, they were unsuccessful, and thus converted to Islam.274 These two accounts highlight the honorable characteristics of the Muslim Prophet and show people accepting Islam upon encountering him.275 Again, we see how the theme of conversion upon encountering Muhammad advances his qualities and prophethood, which fit within topoi of affirmation. Finally, the narrative of ᶜIkrima ibn Abū Jahl’s acceptance of Islam unites various conversion themes.276 A notable of the Quraysh (notables’ conversion), he converted after his wife (women’s conversion), who played a significant role in his conversion (preaching Islam to relatives). Although he initially fled from Muhammad after the conquest of Mecca (conversion after fatḥ Makka), the Prophet convinced him once they met in person (conversion after meeting Muhammad).277 Muhammad saw ᶜIkrima and jumped up joyfully to greet him. After a conversation about Muhammad’s message, ᶜIkrima was convinced by khaṣā’il (the characteristics or duties) of Islam, testified the double Shahada, and accepted Islam.278 The narrative thus advances several conversion themes. 272 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 108–109 (Surāqa), and 175 (ᶜUmayr). Surāqa’s conversion narrative begins during Muhammad’s hijra, but does not come to fruition until the Battle of Ḥunayn. His motives were initially to kill Muhammad in order to receive the Quraysh’s reward of one hundred she-camels, but Muhammad’s qualities won him over. For secondary studies on Surāqa, see Rodriguez, Muslim, 260; Peters, Judaism, 117; al-Ruṣāfī, Kitāb al-shakhṣiyya al-Muḥammadiyya, 258ff. 273 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 175, where ᶜUmayr met Muhammad after Badr and converted to Islam immediately. 274 Both accounts use obvious exaggeration to highlight Muhammad’s prophetic attributes. Surāqa tried to kill Muhammad several times using his arrows, but he always missed. Even Surāqa’s horse sank into the sand and did not move when Surāqa attempted to attack Muhammad (108–109). As for ᶜUmayr, he hid a sharp sword covered with poison to kill Muhammad, but the Prophet’s ability to reveal the matter of the hidden sword terrified ᶜUmayr. He realized that Allah revealed to Muhammad what was hidden, and declared the double Shahada, affirming Muhammad’s prophethood and converting to Islam. Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 177. On exaggerated historical accounts, see ᶜAbd al-Raḥmān, Judhūr, 7–9, where he highlights the mythical and exaggerated elements in Islamic accounts; ᶜAbd al-Raḥmān, al-Tārīkh wa-l-usṭūra; also Abū Rayya, Aḍwā’ ᶜalā al-sunna al-Muḥammadiyya, 85–92, where he points out invented traditions. See also al-Sawwāḥ, al-Usṭūra wa-l-maᶜnā, 103; al-Sawwāḥ, Dīn al-insān, 55–56; Ūzūn, Jināyat al-Bukhārī, 13–30; also Ūzūn, Laffaq al-muslimūn idh qālū; Hoyland, In God’s Path, 42. 275 Fred Donner identifies themes of prophecy in Islamic historiography in his Narratives, 147ff. 276 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 279–281. 277 I did not find it suitable to consider his conversion in topoi of compromise, although he accepted Islam following the conquest of Mecca. The report of Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba depicts ᶜIkrima as converting mainly because he met Muhammad. Thus, I treated this as the main theme of conversion in this narrative. 278 Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 279–281. ᶜIkrima asked, “What are you calling for, O Muhammad?” The Prophet responded, “I call you to testify that there is no god but Allah and that I am the Apostle of Allah, to establish prayer, pay the zakat, and so and so, until he stated the khaṣā’il (characteristics
Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads 97 In conclusion, topoi of affirmation aim to provide proof of Islam and signs of Muhammad’s prophethood. They include various themes, which revolve around Muhammad’s prophetic abilities and the effectiveness and eloquence of his message. Within these themes, Muslim historians depict conversion after meeting Muhammad or hearing the Qur’ān. They highlight those who accepted Islam upon discovery of the prophecies of Muhammad’s advent in pre-Islamic scriptures or after receiving the call to Islam from family members. Like topoi of supremacy, topoi of affirmation aim to elevate Islam and its characteristics. While topoi of supremacy reflect Islam’s hegemony over other faiths, topoi of affirmation provide pieces of evidence regarding Islam, its Prophet, and its message. As explained in the previous section, topoi of supremacy and affirmation appear infrequently in Umayyad-era works, but they are more central in ᶜAbbāsid-era sources due to their scope, aims, and target audience.
Conclusion The objective of this chapter was two-fold. First, I identified early historiographical sources, presumably written during the Umayyad era, and examined their source and textual problems. This was a step of external criticism, which discussed the authenticity of the sources under scrutiny. Second, I traced incidents of conversion in these sources—a step of internal criticism—to analyze the descriptions of the topic. My two-fold objective was accomplished in the major two sections of this chapter, respectively. In the first section, I pinpointed three sources attributed to Sulaym ibn Qays (d. 76/695), Ibn Shihāb al-Zuhrī (d. 124/741), and Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba (d. ca. 135/ 752) and explained the scholarly concerns regarding their source problems. In the second section, I identified conversion incidents within these sources, detected threads of literary themes, and categorized them into clusters of conversion topoi. or duties) of Islam.” ᶜIkrima responded, “By Allah, you have called for nothing but the truth, and it is a noble and commendable matter.” For references in primary sources on ᶜIkrima (d. 13/634), see Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ta’rīkh, 92 (his conversion date); Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ṭabaqāt, 53, 549; al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 3:98ff.; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 1:323ff.; Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 7:283; Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, Istīᶜāb, 3:1082ff.; Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 4:67. For secondary references on ᶜIkrima, see Lecker, Jews, 20; el-Hibri, Parable, 62, where he discusses ᶜIkrima’s role as one of the Meccan elites in power after Muhammad’s death; Haykal, Life, 272–279 (before conversion), 441 (conversion); Kennedy, Prophet, 36, 47–49.
98 Conversion to Islam In analyzing the reports of the sources, I detected various conversion themes, including the awā’il, ḥasun, wujahā’, ṭulaqā’, mu’allafa qulūbuhum, slaves, women, reversion, and conversion due to meeting Muhammad or after hearing the Qur’ān or the preaching of Islam. I proposed that the identified themes could be categorized into four major conversion topoi: significance, compromise, supremacy, and affirmation. Topoi of significance described the distinctiveness of unique converts: the earliest, the notable, the underprivileged, and so forth. They were positive descriptions and appeared in contrast to topoi of compromise, which highlighted insincere conversions for questionable reasons, including seeking materialistic gain, saving one’s life, or following the collective tribal submission. Topoi of supremacy aimed to stress Islam’s hegemony and its superiority over previous religions—particularly Judaism and Christianity—while topoi of affirmation asserted Muhammad’s prophethood, his exceptional qualities, and the eloquence of his message, the Qur’ān. In my analysis, I found that topoi of significance and compromise primarily addressed debates and interests within the Muslim community, while topoi of supremacy and affirmation presented Islam’s uniqueness and superiority to non-Muslims. My argument in this chapter was three-fold. First, the accounts under scrutiny emphasize how early Muslim historians created a distinctive vision of conversion by articulating it through historiographical themes which emphasized what it meant to convert. Second, historiographical themes both reflect and propose theological views and political interpretations. The detected conversion themes provide a window into the complex interplay between religious concerns and sociopolitical debates under the Umayyads, particularly the pro- Umayyad and pro- ᶜAlid debates. In the Umayyad-era works under study, we noticed that the conversion reports in topoi of supremacy and affirmation were fewer in number than those of topoi of significance and compromise. I argued that during this period, historians were more interested in sectarian debates and political legitimacy than in establishing a distinct religious identity over other faiths. Literary themes, I contended, reflect the worldview of the historian and address the religio-political need at the time of writing. Third, the proposed conversion topoi can be traced in the earliest extant historical accounts and will be developed even further by historians in the
Precursors of Conversion Themes under the Umayyads 99 ᶜAbbāsid era, especially with the growth of historical writing and the perceived need to rewrite and reinterpret historical views to correspond with the political changes. Thus, we shall now examine sources written under the ᶜAbbāsid rule, in order to study how conversion topoi both reflect and advance religious and sociopolitical views.
3
Establishing Pro-ᶜAbbāsid Orthodoxy Conversion Themes in Islamic Historiography under the Early ᶜAbbāsids (ca. 133/750–218/833)
By Allah, Muᶜāwiya converted to Islam out of fear, not of conviction. —Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim (d. 212/827)
Introduction: Recapitulation and Setting the Stage The objective of this chapter is to trace and analyze themes of conversion in historical sources written under the early ᶜAbbāsid rule (ca. 133/750–218/833).1 In this book, I divide the ᶜAbbāsid period under study (ca. 133/750–299/911) into two parts around the crucial year 218/833, in which al-Ma’mūn (r. 198/ 813–218/833) enforced the miḥna (inquisition).2 While this chapter examines works by historians who wrote before the miḥna, the following chapter focuses on works by historians who lived during and after the miḥna.3 This chapter consists of two sections. The first examines external evidence (source criticism), while the second focuses on internal evidence (literary accounts) with a specific emphasis on conversion to Islam. In the first section, I examine the reported religious, historical, social, and political contexts of 1 The epigraph in Arabic: Muᶜāwiya converted rāhib ghayr rāghib. Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim, Waqᶜat Ṣiffīn, 214. For defining the “early” ᶜAbbāsid period, I follow Zaman, Religion, 1ff. See also Ḍayf, al- ᶜAṣr, 9–33; al-Dūrī, al-ᶜAṣr, 9–35; Kennedy, Early, 164–175; Kennedy, Prophet, 123–155. 2 See Chapter 1, where I discussed the miḥna in its religio-political significance. For studies on the miḥna, see Hurvitz, Formation, 113ff., where he explains it from the Muᶜtazilī and Ḥanbalī perspectives, as well as studying its inquisitors and its aftermath; Hinds, “Miḥna,” EI2, 7:2–6; Petersen, ᶜAlī, 113, 126, 133ff; Crone and Hinds, God’s Caliph, 92–97, 363–385; Crone, God’s Rule, 131; Zaman, “Caliphs,” 1997: 1–36; Lapidus, “Separation”; Cooperson, Al-Ma’mūn; Cooperson, Classical; Robinson, Islamic Civilization, 60ff.; Melchert, Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal; Mu’nis, Tanqiyat uṣūl al-tārīkh al-islāmī, 145–157. I will discuss the miḥna more in Chapter 4. See a Sunnī perspective on al-Ma’mūn advanced by Ṣallābī, ᶜAṣr al-dawlatayn, 86, where he identifies al-Ma’mūn as sympathetic to Shīᶜism and Muᶜtazilism, being ignorant of the sound sunna of Muhammad. 3 On establishing ᶜAbbāsid historical orthodoxy during the first ᶜAbbāsid century, see Hoyland, “Arabic,” 211–233, where he examines how the early ᶜAbbāsids sought to adapt history to their cultural and political requirements.
Conversion to Islam. Ayman S. Ibrahim, Oxford University Press (2021). © Oxford University Press. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780197530719.003.0003
102 Conversion to Islam the historians who wrote during this period. The objective is three-fold. First, I trace and identify major historians of the period under study, whose complete works are extant. Second, I investigate the available biographical information regarding these historians and their extant works in order to study the sociopolitical and religious contexts from which their works emerged. Third, I situate these historiographical works in their historical context, reflecting on central historical episodes which occurred during the period in order to highlight the interplay between historical phenomena and literary depictions.4 The first section, with its three-fold objective, is foundational, because it serves as the starting point from which the second section will analyze conversion topoi. In the second section, I delve into the historical works of the period under scrutiny to examine how they described conversion to Islam. Specifically, I am interested in their repeated themes, such as ahl al-kitāb (Jews and Christians) converting to Islam, the awā’il (firsts) to convert, and conversion as a result of meeting Muhammad, among others. These themes initially appeared in accounts formed under the Umayyads and continued to flourish in works completed under the ᶜAbbāsids. When grouped together in literary clusters, these themes create conversion topoi, which I define as narrative motifs aiming to advance particular purposes adopted by the historian.5 It should be noted, however, that in some cases the themes are less clearly influenced by the religio-political orientation of the historian than others. At times, Muslim historians simply repeat other reports without adding any significant value.6 In my investigation, I identified four major conversion topoi: supremacy, affirmation, significance, and compromise. Each set of these conversion topoi includes several themes.7
4 While examining the contexts of the historians under study, I will reflect on the possible effect of various crucial historical episodes on history writing, including the enforcement of the miḥna, the rise and decline of the Saba’iyya, the change of the religio-political situation between al-Ma’mūn (r. 198/813–218/833) and al-Mutawakkil (r. 232/847–247/861), and the anti-Umayyad propaganda, among others. See the discussion of Ḍayf, al-ᶜAṣr, 9–33. 5 Noth/Conrad, Early, 109, where they write, “A topos is a narrative motif which has as its primary function the specification of content, and aims to elaborate matters of fact. Its scope is thus very narrow, and it is normally bound to description of a specific situation, definition of a brief moment, or characterization of a person” (109). 6 Robinson, Historiography, 34–35. 7 For more on the themes included in all conversion topoi, see Chapter 1. In detecting the themes, I rely on Noth, who argues, “The key to the detection of a topos is the way it drifts from one setting to another, reappearing again and again in situations to which it had never originally belonged, and indeed, never could have belonged.” Noth/Conrad, Early, 109. See also Donner, Narratives, 141–142.
Establishing Pro-ᶜ Abbāsid Orthodoxy 103 At the outset, there are two important points to make regarding the structure of my discussion of the ᶜAbbāsid period in Chapters 3 and 4. The first point is related to the interplay between history and historiography, while the second is concerned with the delimitations of historiographical sources. First, I always begin by situating the historiographical sources within their historical context, because it is my contention that the authors were highly influenced by their contexts during the time of writing. The historical framework of Islam’s origins was shaped during this crucial period.8 Petersen rightly argues, “The traditionist never relinquishes his right to personal political or religious commitment to the subject he deals with.”9 In my estimation, the historiographical accounts were a product of the deep involvement of the historian in the political agenda and religious debates of his day.10 The ᶜAbbāsid caliphal influence, with its religious element, as evidenced, for instance, in the miḥna, affected the recording of the past.11 Thus, I study, when available, each author’s religio-political inclination (e.g., pro-Umayyad, pro- ᶜAbbasid, pro-ᶜAlid, or Muᶜtazilite) by examining the biographical data provided by classical Muslim authorities.12 I also consult recent scholarly studies on the religious sympathies and political inclinations of the ᶜAbbāsid-era historians.
8 Chase Robinson rightly argues that narrators and transmitters “were not simply taking liberties with texts: they were generating the texts themselves.” Robinson, Historiography, 38. See Décobert, Le Mendiant, 34. Petersen, ᶜAlī, 71ff., where he titles his chapter, “The Orthodox Tradition.” On how political influence affects literary documentation, see al-ᶜAlawī, Maḥaṭṭāt fī al-tārīkh, 19–20, as he contends politics and sectarian debates have led Muslims to forge historical accounts. See also Hoyland, Seeing, 35, where he argues that historiographical sources were virtually “open.” 9 See Petersen, ᶜAlī, 17. Petersen also asserts, “The formation of the historical tradition consists above all in reflections of the political and religious conflicts of its own age” (50). 10 Chase Robinson states, “The rise of the historiographic tradition, whether or not it was triggered by caliphal patronage, was a deeply political process.” Robinson, Historiography, 40. See also Petersen, ᶜAlī, 17–20, and 50, where he concludes, “so there can be very little doubt that the tradition in itself was a product of the prevailing state of affairs” (50). For Petersen, the rise of historical writing had its roots in “polemics” (51). 11 On how the ᶜAbbāsid politics influenced the past, see Borrut, “Vanishing”; Borrut, Entre, 17; Donner, Narratives, 276–282; Petersen, ᶜAlī, 19–20, where he argues that ᶜAbbāsid politics eventually affected the recording of the origins of Islam, affirming that the historical accounts were shaped by politics and religion. 12 See Petersen, ᶜAlī, 50. Relying on Petersen, I prefer using the terms “pro-Umayyad” and “pro- ᶜAlid” over “shīᶜī” and “non-shīᶜī” during the period under study. Petersen explains that in the early decades of the second/eighth century, which was around the ᶜAbbāsid revolution, both the “genesis of historical tradition” and “the formation of the Shīᶜi opposition in the Eastern provinces” began to emerge. However, this should be understood as political, not religious, Shīᶜism. See Robinson, Islamic Civilization, 31; Petersen, ᶜAlī, 50 n.85; Amīn, Ẓuhr al-islām, 797ff. Cf. Crone, Medieval, 70ff.; Black, History, 40ff.; Watt, Islamic Philosophy, 14ff.; Walī, Athar al-tashayyuᶜ, 13–18; Riḍā, Rasā’il al- sunna wa-l-shīᶜa, 4ff.
104 Conversion to Islam Second, the ᶜAbbāsid period under study (ca. 133/750–299/911) in the two chapters witnessed the creation of a tremendous amount of historical writing: “the explosive growth of historical narrative in the eighth and early ninth century.”13 To claim that I have identified all authors who lived and wrote during this period would be inaccurate. However, I was as thorough as possible in determining the major historians and their extant works.14 Nevertheless, to sort through the vast amount of material and the lengthy list of historians, I made two decisions to limit my scope and narrow my focus: one decision related to the preserved quotes of historians found in later sources, and the other concerned the historiographical accounts found in sources which are not strictly historiographical, such as tafsīr, ḥadīth, manāqib, and fiqh. A word on these two decisions is in order. Concerning the first decision regarding the preserved quotes in later historical sources, I contend that these quotes are problematic, as I explained in the previous chapter. While I acknowledge that there are many other historians who flourished during the ᶜAbbāsid period and are known through their preserved quotes in later works, I decided to limit my examination in Chapters 3 and 4 to historians whose complete sources are available.15 For example, Abū Mikhnaf (d. 157/774) is a well-known Kūfan pro-ᶜAlid and anti-Umayyad historian who lived under the ᶜAbbāsids and authored many works, but I do not examine his biography, as none of his works has survived.16 We know of him and his works only from those who quoted him or wrote about him afterward.17 As for the second decision, regarding historical material found in non- historiographical works, I acknowledge that works such as tafsīr, ḥadīth, manāqib, fiqh, and even poetry may incorporate historiographical notes even though the works themselves are not strictly historiographical.18 However, in 13 Robinson, Historiography, 39. He also explains that “the historians of ninth-century Baghdad probably produced more narrative history in a week than all of contemporaneous France and Germany could produce in a year” (39). 14 I relied on major secondary studies, classic and modern, Western and non-Western, including those by Carl Brockelmann (1868–1956), Clément Huart (1854–1926), Fuat Sezgin (1924–), ᶜAbd al-ᶜAzīz al-Dūrī (1919–2010), Shākir Muṣṭafā (1921–1997), Franz Rosenthal (1914–2003), Khayr al-Dīn al-Ziriklī (1893–1976), ᶜUmar Riḍā Kaḥḥāla (1905–1987), Erling L. Petersen, Stephen Humphreys, Fred Donner, and Chase Robinson, among others. 15 I discussed the issue of quotes preserved in Chapter 2. See Landau- Tasseron, “On the Reconstruction,” 45–91, especially 47; Borrut, Entre, 17; Hoyland, Seeing, 32. 16 On Abū Mikhnaf, see the detailed and convincing study by Petersen, ᶜAlī, 59–63. 17 See Robinson, Historiography, 34–35. 18 Robinson observes that “historical narrative” could be traced in works that are not historiographical, labels them “other schemes of historical narrative,” and provides examples—not only futūḥ and maqātil, for instance, but also manāqib. Robinson, Historiography, 39. Petersen studies
Establishing Pro-ᶜ Abbāsid Orthodoxy 105 my examination, I focus on strictly historiographical works. Moreover, considering the number of sources under study and the abundance of conversion themes present, I chose to mention a conversion report once and place all later repetitions in the footnotes, unless there are specific literary features to examine. I should also note that not every work includes all conversion themes. Some works contain a number of themes, while others may provide only one. This suggests that the length and emphasis of conversion narratives vary significantly; one work may provide a few phrases, while others advance complete passages. In this chapter, I focus on the early ᶜAbbāsid period (133/750–218/833) and examine conversion themes in works by Sayf ibn ᶜUmar (d. 180/796), Abū Isḥāq al-Fazārī (d. 186/802), al-Wāqidī (d. ca. 207/823), Hishām ibn al- Kalbī (d. 204/819), Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim (d. 212/827), Ibn Isḥāq (d. 151/761), Ibn Hishām (d. 218/833), and Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam al-Miṣrī (d. 214/829). All of these authors lived and wrote before the enforcement of the miḥna in 218/833. I contrast their depictions to pre-ᶜAbbāsid portrayals to highlight how religio- political disputes may have shaped historiographical narrative. I investigate how the takeover of the ᶜAbbāsids may have affected the elevation, reinterpretation, or suppression of conversion themes, which initially emerged under their Umayyad rivals.19 Indeed, I concede that, for the ᶜAbbasids to enforce their political power, they had to control the past by creating a memory furnished in a pro-ᶜAbbāsid tradition.20 However, my question is this: To what extent did
the poems of various early ᶜAbbāsid poets and states, “In these poets we meet with opinions or points of view akin to those found in the strictly historical tradition both in Iraq and in Syria.” Petersen, ᶜAlī, 27. See also Görke, “Relationship,” 171–185, where he argues that “maghāzī and ḥadīth emerged as separate fields; each influenced the other but they preserved their distinctive features.” 19 Heather Keaney writes, “Through a close comparative reading of these confrontations we can see the relationship between how an author constructed his account and how he construed the causes and contemporary consequences of the conflict.” Keaney, “Confronting,” 39. See also Millward, “Study,” 2–3. 20 Petersen rightly observes, “The tradition from the earliest Abbasid era thus moves within a rather narrow and one-sided framework and cannot be expected to give a complete picture of the conflicting views of those days.” Petersen, ᶜAlī, 118. On the ᶜAbbāsid impact on history writing, see Agha, Revolution, xv–xxxii, 124–134; Hibri, “Redemption,” 241–242, where he observes, “Dynasties that supplant their predecessors in a violent takeover are generally expected to present history in a way unfavorable to those who lost.” On the influence of politics and major revolutions upon people’s memories, see Lassner, Islamic, where his major interest is the ᶜAbbāsid revolution, and he approaches the sources “sensitive to problems of narrative strategy” (14); he believes that, “Embedded in the tendentious accounts of former times are echoes, however faint, of real events” (xv, 13–14). See also Ḥammāmī, Ṣūrat al-ṣaḥābī, 318ff.; Borrut, Entre, ch. 1; Martinez-Gros, L’idéologie, 20–21.
106 Conversion to Islam the change of dynasty affect the conversion themes?21 During the period under study, there were many competing religious debates, summarized around key Muslim figures such as ᶜAlī, Muᶜāwiya, and ᶜUthmān. To what extent have these debates construed the literary choices of the historians? While it is expected that Sayf ibn ᶜUmar (pro-ᶜUthmān) and Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim (pro-ᶜAlī) differ in their portrayals of big events such as ᶜUthmān’s murder, how would they differ in their utilization of conversion themes? This is the core investigation of this current chapter. The major argument in this chapter is that the caliphs’ attempts to establish a pro- ᶜAbbāsid orthodoxy have influenced depictions of conversion. There is evidence of strong relationships between the caliphs and their historians in the period under study.22 In various accounts, the ᶜAbbāsid-era historians portrayed the conversion of major Umayyad figures unfavorably, advancing pro-ᶜAbbāsid and pro-ᶜAlid depictions. 23 It is thus my contention that conversion themes are a product of their historians’ political, social, and religious contexts. The text is driven by the context, or as Fred Donner explains it, “strategies of compilation,” reflecting the relationship between a specific account and its author. 24 Muslim historians apply interpretive choices in their portrayal of conversion narratives in order to satisfy their preferences. Such interpretive choices, I argue, are not merely literary constructions but clear indicators of the contemporary religious and sociopolitical paradigms. 25
21 I ask questions related to the relationship between “the pen and the sword,” i.e., the history writer and the ruler, as described by Ibn Khaldūn, Muqaddima, 1:318. See also Borrut, Entre, 37; Martinez- Gros, L’idéologie, 20–21. See Robinson, Historiography, 13, where he writes of “biases and prejudices” in history, and argues for its “social and political functions.” 22 On forging history and adjusting it to the requirements of the day, see Ḥammāmī, Ṣūrat al-ṣaḥābī fī kutub al-ḥadīth, 318–320. 23 The ᶜAlids and ᶜAbbāsids are cousins. On the initial ᶜAlid support of the ᶜAbbāsids in their revolution against the Umayyads, see al-Masᶜūdī, Murūj, 3:212ff.; Ḍayf, al-ᶜAṣr, 9–13; al-Dūrī, al-ᶜAṣr, 36–41. On the ᶜAlids, see Bernheimer, ᶜAlids, 1–12, where she aims to explain the emergence of the ᶜAlids as the Prophet’s family and as “a distinct social force,” from the elevation of the ᶜAbbāsids to the Seljuks. 24 See Fred Donner, “ᶜUthmān and the Rāshidūn Caliphs in Ibn ᶜAsākir’s Tārīkh madīnat Dimashq: A Study in Strategies of Compilation,” in Ibn ᶜAsākir, ed. Lindsay, 61; Rifāᶜī, ᶜAṣr al- Ma’mūn, 1:116; Keaney, “Confronting,” 37–38. 25 Heather Keaney studies the first fitna and the murder of ᶜUthmān in three different accounts. She argues that a careful reading of these accounts “reveals these authors’ complex religio- political interpretations conveyed through equally complex literary constructions.” Keaney, “Confronting,” 40.
Establishing Pro-ᶜ Abbāsid Orthodoxy 107
Major Historians under the Early ᶜAbbāsids (ca. 133/750–218/833) Sayf ibn ᶜUmar al-Tamīmī (d. 180/796) One of the early ᶜAbbāsid writers is the controversial figure Sayf ibn ᶜUmar al-Tamīmī, who is known for his Kitāb al-ridda wa-l-futūḥ.26 According to classical Muslim authorities, Sayf ’s classification as a muḥaddith (ḥadīth narrator, traditionist) is ḍaᶜīf (weak), matrūk (useless, literally whose ḥadīth is left aside, i.e., invalid)—he is actually accused of al-zandaqa (heresy; zindīq is atheist or unbeliever).27 In modern scholarship, Sayf is considered an early historian of the conquests and his works receive credence mainly because well-known historians, including al-Ṭabarī, relied on his accounts; however, many scholars question the credibility of Sayf ’s accounts.28 He seems to have combined various reports to create a neat, presentable picture of the origin of Islam. Tarif Khalidi observes that “the most striking aspect of Sayf ’s activity as a historian is his attempt at reconciliation.”29 Petersen explains “the extensive falsifications” advanced by Sayf ibn Umar in his historical narratives.30 Sayf is Kūfan and views history from the ᶜAbbāsid Iraqi perspective, specifically regarding his Tamīm tribe. One facet of his tribal bias becomes evident in his treatment of matters related to Kūfa, Banū Tamīm, and the conquest of Iraq.31 While many scholars question the credibility of Sayf ’s accounts, Ella 26 His book is mentioned by Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 94. On Sayf, see Sezgin, Ta’rīkh al-turāth, 1:2:133–134, placing him among the early ᶜAbbāsid writers. Brockelmann, History, 1:210–211; Brockelmann, Ta’rīkh, 3:36. Humphreys, Islamic, 78–79, 82–83; Petersen, ᶜAlī, 118. See also Amīn, Ḍuḥā al-islām, 2:319–360. 27 See al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 11:161–162, where Sayf is ḍaᶜīf (weak) and matrūk (useless) and accused of al-zandaqa (heresy) and fabricating aḥādīth; Yaḥyā ibn Maᶜīn, Ta’rīkh, 3:459, as he refers to Sayf as weak; Ibn Abī Ḥātim, al-Jarḥ wa-l-taᶜdīl, 4:278 (matrūk al-ḥadīth), 8:479 (ḍaᶜīf, munkar al-ḥadīth); Dāraquṭnī, al-Ḍuᶜafā’ wa-l-matrukūn, 2:157; Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī, Tahdhīb al-tahdhīb, 4:295, 296; al-Samᶜānī, Ansāb, 1:254, 5:316 (his book titled al-futūḥ). On the various elements of judging the ḥadīth as ḍaᶜīf (weak) and matrūk (useless) and so forth, see Goldziher, Muslim, 137, 238. See also al-Ziriklī, Aᶜlām, 3:150; Kaḥḥāla, Muᶜjam, 4:288. See the evaluation of Sayf by Petersen, ᶜAlī, 78–83, where Sayf is responsible for the “fabrication” and “adaptational process” of traditions. For studies on zandaqa in the early ᶜAbbāsid era, see ᶜAṭwān, al-Zandaqa, 11–26; Ḍayf, al-ᶜAṣr, 74ff.; Ḥamad, al-Zandaqa, 21ff.; Shukr, al-Zandaqa fī dār al-islām, 121–124, which is found in French as Zandaqa et zindīqs en islam au second siècle de l’hégire. See also Badawī, Min tārīkh al-ilḥād fī al-islām, 25–40. 28 Rosenthal, Historiography, 188; Robinson, Historiography, 50; also Shoshan, Arabic, 7–8. For a study on al-Ṭabarī’s reliance on Sayf, see Thompson, “Re-reading,” 71ff., et passim; also Hinds, “Sayf ibn ᶜUmar’s Sources,” 3–16. 29 See Khalidi, Arabic, 63; also Robinson, “Conquest,” 22; Ḥammāmī, Ṣūrat, 318–323. 30 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 78; also Hinds, “Sayf ibn ᶜUmar’s Sources,” 3ff. 31 See al-Dūrī, al-ᶜAṣr, 46–47. On his contribution to the so-called Iraqi school, see Noth/Conrad, Early, 4, 6, 12–13. Petersen, ᶜAlī, 78–82, where he concludes that Sayf ’s “prejudice is rooted in his
108 Conversion to Islam Landau-Tasseron warns against treating his historical reports with mistaken presupposition, or the assumption that everything written by Sayf is wrong. She observes that the literary problems present in Sayf ’s writings are similar to those of other classical writers, including Ibn Isḥāq and al-Wāqidī.32 Like Landau-Tasseron, Boaz Shoshan observes that a parallel examination of the accounts of Ibn Isḥāq (d. ca. 150/761) and Sayf reveals major similarities, and thus major textual problems.33 Sayf served under the famous ᶜAbbāsid Caliph Hārūn al-Rashīd (r. 170/ 786–193/809). Sayf was pro-ᶜAbbāsid and anti-Shīᶜite.34 His anti-Shīᶜism is significant as it reflects an important historical episode in his day: While the ᶜAbbāsids were initially supported by the ᶜAlids in the revolution against the Umayyads, Sayf ’s anti-Shīᶜite accounts indicate the growing tension between the ᶜAbbāsids and Shīᶜism.35 Petersen argues that Sayf ’s “historical writing very likely furnished the clearest picture of the Abbasids’ showdown with Shīᶜism.”36 His Kitāb al-ridda wa-l-futūḥ is not only anti-Shīᶜite; it also praises ᶜUthmān and legitimizes his caliphal rule. Patricia Crone states, “Sayf turns out to have been an ᶜUthmānī,” and “Though Sayf is keen to exonerate ᶜUthmān, he has no desire to present ᶜAlī in an unfavourable light.”37 Like own environment at the end of 8th century” (81). For Banū Tamīm, their collective conversion, and the textual problems of their portrayals in the sources of Ibn Isḥāq and al-Wāqidī, see Landau- Tasseron, “Processes,” 253–270. 32 See also the positive view of Landau-Tasseron, “Sayf Ibn ᶜUmar,” 1–26, where she argues for “the necessity to get rid of the prejudice that ‘Sayf is likely to be wrong,’ ” even though she states that “he certainly picked and chose his material, applied sophisticated methods of editing, reproduced biased accounts and added his own interpretations in the guise of historical reports” (23). She states, “But all of these procedures were followed by other historians as well, including Ibn Isḥāq and Wāqidi who have been deemed to represent a scholarship more reliable and impartial than that of Sayf ” (23). 33 See Shoshan, Arabic, 8, and 20–21 n.59, where he provides various parallel examples of al- Tabarī’s citing Sayf and Ibn Isḥāq. On the congruence between Sayf and Ibn Isḥāq, see Noth/Conrad, Early, 12–14, 15. 34 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 118. Petersen discusses Sayf ’s account in detail on 78–82. 35 See Rifāᶜī, ᶜAṣr al-Ma’mūn, 1:82ff., where he argues that the ᶜAbbāsids and the ᶜAlids had initially similar goals which united them against the Umayyads, until the ᶜAbbāsids came to power. See also al-Khuḍarī, al-Dawla al-ᶜabbāsiyya, 16ff. For Hārūn’s opposition of Shīᶜism, see Abū Khalīl, Hārūn, 194ff.; al-Wurayyimī, Fī al-I’tilāf, 117ff., 146, 191ff. See also Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 209; al- Bayhaqī, Manāqib, 1:399–401; al-Balkhī et al., Faḍl, 250; al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 8:20, 16:9ff.; al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 15:87; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 10:201–206; al-Masᶜūdī, Murūj, 3:293ff.; Yaᶜqūbī, Ta’rīkh, 2:499. See also Omar, “Hārūn,” EI2, 3:233. Hārūn reportedly targeted Shīᶜites. See al-Ṣadūq, ᶜUyūn akhbār al-Riḍā, 1:108–112; al-Isfahānī, Maqātil, 387ff. See also al-Dūrī, al-ᶜAṣr, 111ff.; Bouvat, Les Barmécides, 55–59; al-Amīn, Kitāb aᶜyān al-shīᶜa, 1:24ff. On the emergence and development of the ᶜAlids (al-shīᶜa al-ᶜAlawiyyūn), see Rifāᶜī, ᶜAṣr al-Ma’mūn, 1:71ff. 36 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 84. On the ᶜAbbāsids and Shīᶜism, see Muḥammad al-Khuḍarī, al-Dawla al- ᶜabbāsiyya, 16–40; Ḍayf, al-ᶜAṣr, 9–10; al-Dūrī, al-ᶜAṣr, 9–35. 37 See Patricia Crone’s review. Note that the manuscript of this book is a product of the thirteenth century ad and appears to have been copied from an earlier manuscript. See Hawting’s review; see
Establishing Pro-ᶜ Abbāsid Orthodoxy 109 Crone, Wilferd Madelung identifies Sayf as “a late Kūfan ᶜUthmānid” who represented an “early Sunnite tendentious historiography” in the form of an “anti-Shīᶜite concoction without source value for the events.”38 Crone’s and Madelung’s statements ring true, as Sayf writes extensively of ᶜUthmān’s noble character and praiseworthy deeds. According to Sayf, ᶜUthmān’s collecting of the Qur’ānic text and burning of the maṣāḥif (Qur’ān codices) were justified actions approved by ᶜAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib, who stated that he would have done the same.39 Sayf here elevates ᶜUthmān as a legitimate caliph and claims he received support and exoneration from the top Shīᶜite imam himself. For Sayf, ᶜUthmān was not only a pious leader who never “innovated” and always “imitated” but also a merciful caliph who was betrayed by evil rebels who fabricated unjust reports about him, which led to his murder.40 It is my opinion that the accounts of Sayf, including his reports on conversion to Islam, should be read against the backdrop of such a bias. This is especially true when comparing Sayf to other pro-Shīᶜite accounts, including that of Sulaym ibn Qays, who was also Kūfan but lived under the Umayyads. Furthermore, Sayf ’s accounts are not only anti-Shīᶜite and pro-ᶜUthman but also harshly against the so-called Saba’iyya, which he portrays as the source of deception and corruption which stirred people against innocent Companions.41 Sayf ’s outright disapproval of the Saba’iyya permeates his also Robinson, Historiography, 36; also Robinson, “Islamic Historical Writing, 700–1000,” in Oxford History, ed. Foot and Robinson, 256. 38 Madelung, Succession, 1, 374; on the problem of Sayf ’s isnād, see Robinson, Historiography, 16; see also Robinson, “Islamic Historical Writing, 700–1000,” in Oxford History, ed. Foot and Robinson, 2:245, where he mentions “Sayf b. ᶜUmar, who is often harshly criticized as overly partisan of the Shīᶜite cause.” See also Donner, Narratives, 10–11, 215. On Sayf ’s approach and its characteristics, see Noth/Conrad, Early, 8. On ᶜUthmāniyya, see Zahniser, “The ᶜUthmānīya,” 161ff. 39 Sayf ibn ᶜUmar, Kitāb al-ridda, 53–54. On the collection of the Qur’ān, see the recent remarks of Neuwirth, Qur’an, 139ff.; Hamdan, “The Second Maṣāḥif Project,” in Qur’ān, ed. Neuwirth et al., 795ff.; also in the same book, Sinai, “The Qur’ān as Process,” 407ff. 40 Sayf ibn ᶜUmar, Kitāb al-ridda, 14, 124, 128, 141, 149ff. 41 Sayf ibn ᶜUmar, Kitāb al-ridda, 131–134. Petersen, ᶜAlī, 156, where Saba’iyya is a form of extremist Shīᶜism. Al-Dūrī, al-ᶜAṣr, 20ff. On Saba’iyya, see Ṭāhā Ḥusayn, al-Fitna al-kubrā 2, 90–93; Ṭāhā Ḥusayn, al-Fitna al-kubrā: ᶜUthmān, 132–133; Anthony, “Caliph,” ch. 1; Anthony, Caliph, where Anthony defines the Saba’iyya as “a sect traditionally classified by medieval heresiographers, across the sectarian divide, as the original and earliest archetype of extremist Shīᶜism and occasionally as the very fount of Sh’īite belief itself.” Anthony, “Caliph,” 1. See also Friedman, Nuṣayrī-ᶜAlawīs, 177–178; Kennedy, Caliphate, 68; Petersen, ᶜAlī, 77–79. Petersen explains that Sayf wanted to show that ᶜUthmān’s murder was chiefly due to the rapid proto-Shīᶜite sect, Saba’iyya. For Sayf, the responsibility for the unpunishment of ᶜUthmān’s killers and for the whole fight lies in the Saba’iyya (78). For primary sources, see Ibn Qutayba al-Dīnawarī, Maᶜārif, 622; al-Fasawī, al-Maᶜrifa wa-l-tārīkh, 2:737; al-Jūzjānī, Aḥwāl al-rijāl, 24; Ibn Abī Khaythama, al-Ta’rīkh al-kabīr (Part 2), 2:907; Ibn Abī Yaᶜlā, Ṭabaqāt al-ḥanābila, 1:33; ᶜAbd al-Jabbār, Tathbīt, 2:548; al-Ṣafadī, Wāfī, 17:100; Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 29:3ff.
110 Conversion to Islam accounts. This is crucial to our study, because conversion in Sayf ’s accounts appears in reports related to the Jew ᶜAbdullāh ibn Saba’, who is identified as the source of the so-called Saba’iyya.42 Some scholars view Ibn Saba’ as a real person, while others argue he was fictional.43 I argue that, for our purposes, it does not matter whether Sayf ibn ᶜUmar recounted the conversion of ᶜAbdullāh ibn Saba’ as it actually occurred, nor is it relevant to determine whether Ibn Saba’ was a real figure. What matters is the manner in which Sayf used the conversion literary incident in his overall anti-Shīᶜite pro-ᶜUthmānī project. What matters is Sayf ’s portrayal of Ibn Saba’ not only as a mere convert but precisely as a Jew entering Islam and stirring up false reports within the Muslim community. The character of Ibn Saba’, as depicted by Sayf ibn ᶜUmar, is an example of a tendentious narrative seeking to establish a collective memory of the past, articulated in a historiographical report.44 Therefore, examining conversion to Islam in Sayf ’s Kitāb al-ridda wa-l-futūḥ is important to my overall investigation.
Ibn ᶜUmar al-Wāqidī (d. ca. 207/823) To appreciate the value of al-Wāqidī’s reports on conversion to Islam, one must view and study them against the backdrop of his social, religious, and political contexts. Literary choices stem from religious and sociopolitical concerns and reflect the requirements of the caliphate during the time of writing.45 Ibn ᶜUmar al-Wāqidī (d. ca. 207/823) is well-known for his 42 On Ibn Saba’ and his claims regarding ᶜAlī, see Tucker, Mahdis, ch. 1; Landau-Tasseron, “Sayf Ibn ᶜUmar,” 1–26; Moosa, Extremist Shiites, xiii–xxiii; Petersen, ᶜAlī, 79. See Hodgson, “ᶜAbd Allāh b. Saba’,” EI2, 1:51, where Ibn Saba’ is the “reputed founder of the Shīᶜa”; also Hodgson, “Ghulāt,” EI2, 2:1093ff.; Halm, Shiᶜism, 155; al-Jāḥiẓ, Bayān, 3:234; Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 29:3ff.; al-Ṭūsī, Ikhtiyār, 101–102; For an Arab secular view of Ibn Saba’, see the controversial work of ᶜAlī al-Wardī, Wuᶜᶜāẓ al-salāṭīn, 95–114. See also Abū Rayya, Aḍwā’ ᶜalā al-sunna al-Muḥammadiyya, 150–151; Riḍā, Rasā’il al-sunna wa-l-shīᶜa, 4. 43 For scholars suggesting Ibn Saba’ is a fiction, see Ṭāhā Ḥusayn, al-Fitna al-kubrā: ᶜUthmān, 132– 133. Sean Anthony disagrees completely, even though he believes that “the bulk of materials written about Ibn Saba’ are extremely tendentious.” See Anthony, “Caliph,” 1. See also Amīn, Fajr, 269; al- Najjār, al-Khulafā’, 314. Amīn and al-Najjār disagree with Ḥusayn. For a discussion of the scholarly disagreement, see Tucker, Mahdis, 9ff. 44 On tendentious accounts, see Petersen, ᶜAlī, 18, where he states that recording history “left a wide margin for tendentious presentation” (18); Lassner, Shaping; on the historiographical themes, see Donner, Narratives, 144. 45 See Keaney, “Confronting,” 37–38; Hibri, Reinterpreting, 1, where he observes, “Titles such as al- Manṣūr, al-Mahdī, al-Hādī, and al-Rashīd were variant expressions of [the caliphs’] claims to a divine right to rule, as well as to their charismatic power.” Robinson approaches the development of Islamic historiography as “a question of cultural rather than intellectual history.” Robinson, “The Study of Islamic Historiography,” 207.
Establishing Pro-ᶜ Abbāsid Orthodoxy 111 accounts on Muhammad’s life, which are generally referred to as al-maghāzī (expeditions). Like other early writers of maghāzī, al-Wāqidī is better identified as muḥaddith (scholar of ḥadīth).46 Al-Wāqidī was born in Medina in ca. 130/748 and was a mawlā (client) to Banū Sahm of the tribe of Aslam of Medina.47 He encountered many well-known Muslim authorities of ḥadīth, including Maᶜmar ibn Rāshid (d. 115/733), Sufyān al-Thawrī (d. 161/778), and Mālik ibn Anas (d. 179/795). This resulted in his growth into a muḥaddith and faqīh and eventually a major maghāzī authority equal to Ibn Isḥāq (d. 150/761), although, in some respects, al-Wāqidī undoubtedly surpassed Ibn Isḥāq in methods and scrutiny.48 According to al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī (d. 463/1071) and al-Samᶜānī (d. 562/1166), al-Waqidī is a forerunner in writing on al-maghāzī, al-siyar, al- ṭabaqāt, and akhbār al-nabī.49 Nonetheless, Abū Isḥāq al-Jūzjānī (d. 259/ 872), who is an early authority on the biographies of traditionists, states that al-Wāqidī is ghayr muqniᶜ (unconvincing) in his reports.50 Like al-Jūzjānī, Ibn Abī Ḥātim al-Rāzī (d. 327/938) describes al-Wāqidī as matrūk (useless) al-ḥadith, suggesting that his accounts are unreliable.51 Abū Ḥasan al- Dāraquṭnī (d. 385/995), a leading Sunnī muḥaddith (traditionist), mentions opposing opinions about al-Wāqidī, while affirming that fīhi duᶜf bayyin fī ḥadīthih (there is obvious weakness in his ḥadīth).52 A classical report openly skeptical of al-Wāqidī’s writings highlights that he allegedly fabricated twenty thousand strange prophetic aḥādīth (traditions), even though he was never able to memorize the Qur’ān and could not recite one of its chapters when asked by the caliph to lead Friday prayer.53 Moreover, the Shīᶜite scholar 46 See Ibn Qutayba al-Dīnawarī, Maᶜārif, 518; Robinson, Historiography, 86, 88, 97, and generally chs. 9–10; Khalidi, Arabic, 17ff., 33; Partner, “The New Cornificius: Medieval History,” in Classical, ed. Breisach; 11. Rosenthal, Historiography, 31. 47 Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 5:493 (entry #1448); Ibn Qutayba al-Dīnawarī, Maᶜārif, 518. For a compelling study on the social status of the mawālī during the early ᶜAbbāsid era, see al-Dūrī, al-ᶜAṣr, 10ff.; Zaydān, Ta’rīkh al-tamaddun al-islāmī, 4:340ff., as he explains how Arabs felt superior to non-Arab Muslims. 48 See al-Dūrī, Rise, 37–38, on al-Wāqidī’s sources and critical attitude. See also Donner, Narratives, 168, 215, 265. 49 Al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 4:5–6; Al-Samᶜānī, Ansāb, 13:271–272. See also Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 5:493ff. On al-Wāqidī, see Sezgin, Ta’rīkh, 1:2:100–106; Muṣṭafā, Ta’rīkh, 1:67, 1:163ff.; al- Ziriklī, Aᶜlām, 6:311–312; Kaḥḥāla, Muᶜjam, 11:95–96. Al-Dhahabī writes of al-Wāqidī that “he is weak, even though great in al-ᶜilm (knowledge).” Al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh al-Islām, 14:362. 50 Al-Jūzjānī, Aḥwāl, 1:228. 51 Ibn Abī Ḥātim, Jarḥ, 4:278. The term matrūk literally means “whose ḥadīth is left aside.” 52 Dāraquṭnī, Ḍuᶜafā’, 3:103; also Yaḥyā ibn Maᶜīn, Ta’rīkh, 3:160, where he states that al-Wāqidī “is nothing.” 53 Al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 4:5ff.; also al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 9:460. See al-Dūrī, Rise, 40, where he states, “The work al-Wāqidī began was continued and advanced by his student, Ibn Saᶜd (d. 230/ 844), as he wrote Kitāb al-ṭabaqāt al-kabīr.”
112 Conversion to Islam al-Ṭūsī (d. 460/1068) states that al-Wāqidī took credit for works authored by Ibrāhīm ibn Abī Yaḥyā.54 Shams al-Dīn al-Dhahabī (d. 748/1348) contends that al-Wāqidī was considered trustworthy by some, yet others viewed him as a weak muḥaddith, liar, and mudallis (faking his sources).55 Thus, al-Wāqidī is no exception: As is the case with the majority of classical Muslim authors, the tradition includes competing and contradicting views. If there is disagreement about al-Wāqidī’s work among classical Muslims, the case is similar in modern scholarship. While some scholars value his work, others are skeptical of his methods, approaches, and accounts. On the positive side of the debate, Iraqi historian ᶜAbd al-ᶜAzīz al-Dūrī states that al-Wāqidī created a framework for early Islamic historiography by adopting a systematic style relying primarily on the ḥadīth and its isnād (chain of informants).56 Dūrī further argues that, although al-Wāqidī relied on authorities who preceded him, he surpassed them in his scrutiny.57 Syrian historian Shākir Muṣṭafā argues that al-Wāqidī is more accurate than Ibn Isḥāq in the accounts on Muhammad’s maghāzī, particularly in following a chronological order and referring to his sources.58 Palestinian historian Tarif Khalidi praises al-Wāqidī’s methods and identifies him as “a historian in the making” who provides “eye- witness accounts” and displays “eagerness to check names, places and events for himself [with] attentiveness to detail,” which were “qualities that remained with him for the rest of his working life.”59 Nevertheless, many scholars still voice uncertainty about al-Wāqidī’s accounts. While he addressed various topics, including maghāzī, futūḥ, and ta’rīkh,60 his methods have been severely criticized. Rizwi Faizer writes on his 54 Al-Ṭūsī, Fihrist, 3. 55 Al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 9:454–469; al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 14:361ff. On the meaning of tadlīs and mudallis, see Ibn al-Ṣalāḥ, Maᶜrifat, 156–162; al-Ṣafadī, Wāfī, 4:169. See al-ᶜUthaymīn, Muṣṭalaḥ al-ḥadīth, 15–16, where the author defines tadlīs as claiming a fake isnād to make the ḥadīth of a higher authority; Juynboll, Encyclopedia, 413, 606, 773, where mudallis is a ḥadīth narrator “who tampers with isnād.” See also Juynboll, Muslim, 22, 52, 174, 179, 181, 183, 187; also Motzki, Ḥadīth. 56 Al-Dūrī, Rise, 39. Petersen, ᶜAlī, 83. The material on al-Wāqidī in this section can be found in more detail in Ibrahim, Stated, ch. 2. For general information on al-Wāqidī, see al-Ziriklī, Aᶜlām, 6:311–312; Kaḥḥāla, Muᶜjam, 11:95–96. 57 Al-Dūrī, Rise, 38–39. Al-Wāqidī’s work is now available in English as The Life of Muḥammad, edited by Rizwi Faizer et al. See the review of this book by Lecker, “Review of The Life of Muḥammad,” 717–719. 58 Muṣṭafā, al-Ta’rīkh al-ᶜarabī, 1:163. See also Khalidi, Arabic, 48, where he compares the works of al-Wāqidī and Ibn Isḥāq and concludes, “As a vision of history, [al-Wāqidī’s work] is less grand perhaps than the vision of Ibn Ishaq. But it is also a more rigorous, more practicable vision and one which Waqidi in all probability hoped would be of use to the growing corps of state secretaries, jurists and scholars of the early-Abbasid state.” 59 Khalidi, Arabic, 44–45. 60 Al-Dūrī, Rise, 39; al-Ziriklī, Aᶜlām, 6:311–312; al-Ṭūsī, Fihrist, 3.
Establishing Pro-ᶜ Abbāsid Orthodoxy 113 alleged plagiarism, “[al-Wāqidī] had taken much from Ibn Isḥāq without acknowledgment.”61 While this criticism seems warranted, it likely represents the evaluation of classical sources through modern scrutiny. In disagreement with Faizer, Crone writes, “Wāqidī did not plagiarize Ibn Isḥāq, but he did not offer an independent version of the Prophet’s life, either; what he, Ibn Isḥāq, and others put together were simply so many selections from a common pool of qaṣṣ material. And it is for the same reason that they came to agree on the historicity of events that never took place.”62 Still, al-Wāqidī’s accounts are scrutinized by several scholars, including some of the most sanguine in approach: Michael Lecker contrasts al-Wāqidī’s accounts of a particular historical incident to similar reports attributed to al-Zuhrī, al-Bayhaqī, and others, and concludes, “I submit that the passage, in its present form in Wāqidī’s book, is corrupt.”63 In a less-critical assessment, Donner points out that al-Zuhrī’s works were possibly accessible to al-Wāqidī, who used them at liberty.64 Despite these competing scholarly views on al-Wāqidī, his contribution to early Muslim historiography is undeniable. His accounts have shaped the Muslim memory for generations, as evidenced in how later historians, including the renowned al-Ṭabarī, relied on them.65 Al-Wāqidī’s contribution to historiography is evident in how he established a compelling outline for Islam’s origins and Muhammad’s prophetic career, and also in how this outline served the political power of his day. According to Petersen, al-Wāqidī was foundational in serving the ᶜAbbāsids by designing a framework of prophetic traditions furnished in a pro-ᶜAbbāsid orthodoxy.66 This is evident in the reportedly robust connections between al-Wāqidī and influential ᶜAbbāsid caliphs. When the Caliph Hārūn al-Rashīd visited Medina during his pilgrimage in 170/786, he was introduced to al-Wāqidī, a knowledgeable
61 Faizer, “Muhammad,” 463. 62 Crone, Meccan, 225. 63 Lecker, “Wāqidī’s Account,” 15–32; the quote is from 15. 64 See Donner, Narratives, 66, where he studies al-Zuhrī as a source for al-Wāqidī; also 258, where he explains how authors relied on each other and how later works, such as that of Ibn Aᶜtham al-Kūfī, bring together “numerous reports” used earlier by Ibn Isḥāq and al-Wāqidī in an attempt to form a compelling and “unbroken narrative.” 65 See Muṣṭafā, al-Ta’rīkh, 1:166, where he argues that al-Wāqidī is not trusted by traditionists but is highly valued by historians. See also Khalidi, Arabic, 44–45; Donner, Narratives, 66, 258. I identified more than three hundred mentions of al-Wāqidī as a source in al-Ṭabarī’s Ta’rīkh. See, for instance, 1129ff. et passim. The frequency of al-Ṭabarī’s referring to al-Wāqidī increases when the former treats Muhammad’s expeditions in the second year of the hijra (1270ff.). This indicates the importance of al-Wāqidī as a source for the maghāzī. 66 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 83. Khalidi, Arabic, 44–48.
114 Conversion to Islam guide for the sacred place. As compensation, al-Wāqidī received 10,000 dirhams from the caliph.67 He used the money to pay off his debts and take care of his children’s needs. After the money ran out, we are told, he sought to move to the caliphal capital. He traveled to Baghdad, seeking to serve under the patronage of amīr al-mu’minīn (commander of believers) the Caliph Hārūn al-Rashīd.68 After Hārūn’s death, it is reported that, during al- Ma’mūn’s reign, al-Wāqidī was a qāḍī (judge) of Baghdad for four years, as the caliph trusted and valued him.69 As for the sectarian inclination, al-Wāqidī is considered a Shīᶜite by some classical Muslim figures: Ibn al-Nadīm (d. 385/995) writes that “al-Wāqidī was Shīᶜite . . . who used to live in taqiyya,” presumably to hide his Shīᶜite sympathies.70 The Shīᶜite authority al-Ṭūsī not only includes al-Wāqidī in a list of Shīᶜite writers but also accuses him of attributing works by Ibrāhīm ibn Muḥammad ibn Abī Yaḥyā to himself.71 Carl Brockelmann, relying on Ignác Goldziher and others, observes that al-Wāqidī was known as a Shīᶜite but hid such inclination using taqiyya (dissimulation).72 Consequently, Petersen identifies al-Wāqidī, and eventually his pupil Ibn Saᶜd, as adopting an anti-Umayyad inclination.73 While many works are attributed to al-Wāqidī, the majority are lost and several are questionable regarding authorship.74 Three works attributed to him are extant: His Maghazī is found in a scholarly critical edition, his Kitāb al-ridda wa futūḥ al-ᶜIrāq is found in Arabic based on a Khuda Bakhsh Oriental Library manuscript (India), and his controversial Futūḥ al-Shām is falsely attributed to him. A brief word on these three works is necessary. The Kitāb al-maghāzī is an important early development in Muslim historical writing, particularly on documentation of Muhammad’s life and expeditions. In this work, al-Wāqidī focuses on the Medinan period, relies 67 Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 5:494 (entry #1448). 68 Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ṭabaqāt, 1:472, 641; Ibn Qutayba al-Dīnawarī, Maᶜārif, 518. Petersen, ᶜAlī, 83ff., where al-Wāqidī is one of the major historians responsible for creating the ᶜAbbāsid “orthodox” tradition. In studying al-Wāqidī’s accounts, Petersen concludes, “Wāqidī did not prepare [his] material thoroughly until after his arrival at Baghdad, and . . . he worked under the influence of the views of his Iraqian [sic] environment” (86). 69 Al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 14:363; Ibn Qutayba al-Dīnawarī, Maᶜārif, 518. 70 Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 98. 71 Al-Ṭūsī, Fihrist, 3. 72 Brockelmann, Ta’rīkh, 3:16; Brockelmann, History, 1:123. For taqiyya, see al-Kulaynī, Kāfī, 2:217–218; al-Mufīd, Taṣḥīḥ iᶜtiqādāt al-imāmiyya, 137; al-Majlisī, Biḥār, 72:398–412; Ibn Ḥajar al- ᶜAsqalānī, Fatḥ, 5:354; Ibn Ḥazm, Muḥallā, 3:55, 7:353; Ibn Manẓūr, Lisān, 15:401–402; al-Ḥalabī, Insān, 2:165. For a secondary study on the role of taqiyya in Shīᶜism, see Kohlberg, “Some,” 395–402. 73 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 92. 74 Al-Ziriklī, Aᶜlām, 6:311–312; Brockelmann, Ta’rīkh, 3:15–19, especially 16.
Establishing Pro-ᶜ Abbāsid Orthodoxy 115 on the isnād, quotes the Qur’ān, and scrutinizes his own sources.75 This work is edited in a scholarly edition by Marsden Jones, which serves my analysis as a valuable early ᶜAbbāsid account, precisely depicting conversion to Islam during Muhammad’s Medinan period.76 Another important extant work by al-Wāqidī is Kitāb al-ridda wa futūḥ al-ᶜIrāq. It is available in an edition by the Iraqi scholar Yaḥyā Wahīb al-Jabbūrī, published in 1990. The text is based on one manuscript found in the Khuda Bakhsh Oriental Library in Patna, India. The importance of this work is evident in how Ibn al-Nadīm (d. 385/ 995), Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī (d. 627/1229), and Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn al-Ṣafadī (d. 764/ 1363) mention it, attributing it to al-Wāqidī.77 The accounts on conversion to Islam in this source will be analyzed later. A third work attributed to al-Wāqidī is very dubious and controversial: the Kitāb futūḥ al-Shām. It likely emerged much later, during the time of the Crusades, as a polemical literary device against the invaders; various scholars have doubted its authenticity and suggested attributing it to pseudo- Wāqidī.78 Recently, Boaz Shoshan produced a convincing argument that al- Wāqidī is not the author.79 Conversion accounts in Futūḥ al-Shām mostly reflect the religious superiority of Islam, repeating themes of religious supremacy and affirmations of Muhammad and the Qur’ān.80 While I traced all incidents of conversion in this work, I decided not to utilize these in the literary analysis, as they do not belong to the time period under scrutiny. The historical accounts reported by al-Wāqidī, including his narratives on conversion to Islam, are better viewed as a product of his sociopolitical and religious contexts. His literary choices point to religious, social, and political lessons he intended for his audience to learn. His interaction with the ᶜAbbāsid caliphs, the subsequent wealth he gained, his eventual relocation to Baghdad, and his placement as a judge in the court in Baghdad reflect 75 Al-Dūrī, Rise, 37–39, especially 38. It is reported that al-Wāqidī traveled to various places to make sure of his isnād and authenticate his sources. I explained this material on al-Wāqidī’s works in more detail in my 2018 work, The Stated Motivations, ch. 2. For a critical assessment of Wāqidī’s Maghāzī, see Djait, Tārīkhiyyat al-daᶜwa al-Muḥammadiyya fī Makka, 26–42, especially 40ff. 76 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī. See Robinson, Historiography, 29–30, 96–97; Donner, Narratives, 10, 168, 215, 265; al-Dūrī, Rise, 37–38, on his critical attitude, sources, and isnād. 77 Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 98–99; Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam, 6:2598; al-Ṣafadī, Wāfī, 4:169. In an exchange with Professor Fred Donner, he mentioned that he saw the manuscript of this text. He believes the text is actually by Ibn Aᶜtham al-Kūfī, not al-Wāqidī. 78 Robinson, Historiography, 43; Noth/Conrad, Early, 32; also Kaegi, Byzantium, 10. See also Pyrovolaki, “Futūḥ al-Shām,” where the author demonstrates similarities and association between al-Azdī al-Baṣrī’s Kitāb al-futūḥ and the futūḥ attributed to al-Wāqidī. The argument is that pseudo- Wāqidī built on al-Azdī al-Baṣrī’s work. 79 Shoshan, Arabic, ch. 1, especially 13–15. 80 See Pseudo-Wāqidī, Futūḥ al-Shām, 1:18, 1:21, 1:27, 1:141, 1:269, 2:115, 2:239, 2:240, 2:243, et passim.
116 Conversion to Islam how “the pen” might have been influenced by “the sword,” as Ibn Khaldūn noted.81 Ultimately, a ruler must be revered and obeyed, while a writer uses the assumed events of the past to establish lessons and schemes appropriate for the present.
Hishām ibn al-Kalbī (d. 204/819) Hishām ibn al-Sā’ib al-Kalbī was born, raised, and taught in Kūfa, Iraq.82 Unlike other historians, he did not travel much. Like his father, Muḥammad al-Kalbī, Hishām was known as a narrator and an akhbārī.83 We should distinguish between the father and the son, as both are called Ibn al-Kalbī. The father was Muḥammad al-Kalbī (d. 146/763), while the son is Hishām ibn al-Kalbī (d. 204/819); the former was known as a genealogist, while the latter was a historian and an expert in genealogies.84 As an akhbārī (historian), Hishām ibn al-Kalbī was an expert in Arab customs and raids, as well as genealogy and lineage, to the extent that Ibn Qutayba calls him “the most knowledgeable of al-ansāb.”85 According to al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Hishām ibn al-Kalbī was an authority on whom many scholars relied, including Ibn Saᶜd (d. 230/844) and Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ (d. 240/854).86 According to Ibn al-Nadīm and al-Dhahabī, Hishām authored more than 150 works.87 81 Ibn Khaldūn (d. 808/1406), Muqaddima, 1:318, where he writes that “the pen and the sword” kilāhumā āla li-ṣāḥib al-dawla (both are a tool [in the hands] of the ruler). Compare with Abū al-Ḥasan al-Māwardī, al-Aḥkām al-sulṭāniyya, 297. See also Borrut, Entre, 37; Martinez-Gros, L’idéologie, 20–21; also Robinson, Historiography, 13, where he rightly observes that “history can also reflect biases and prejudices, for it, too, can have clear social and political functions.” See Petersen, ᶜAlī, 19–20, where he discusses how ᶜAbbāsid politics influenced historiography. 82 Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 96; Ibn Khallikān, Wafayāt, 6:82; Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam, 6:2779; al- Ṣafadī, Wāfī, 27:212ff.; al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 14:418–420; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 10:101–103. Al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 16:68, provides another date of death, 206/821. See also Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 96, places his death in ah 206. 83 See Ibn Khallikān, Wafayāt, 4:309–312 (on the father, and his Tafsīr and knowledge in nasab) and 6:82 (on his son Hishām). See also al-Jāḥiẓ, Bayān, 1:262, 1:290, where he refers to Ibn al-Kalbī and his father, and 1:262, where Hishām, like his father Muḥammad, was nassābī. Also Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam, 6:2779. See Thomas, “Ibn al-Kalbī,” in Christian-Muslim Relations, ed. Thomas, 510ff. 84 See al-Anbārī, Nuzhat al-albā’, 75–76; Ibn Ḥibbān, Majrūḥīn, 3:91. Al-Ziriklī identifies ibn al- Kalbi (the father, Muḥammad) as nassāba, and his son Hishām ibn Muhammad as mu’arrikh (historian). Al-Ziriklī, Aᶜlām, 5:230. Al-Ziriklī, Aᶜlām, 6:133 (on the father); 8:87–88 (on the son Hishām). On the father, see al-Jurjānī, al-Kāmil fī ḍuᶜafā’ al-rijāl, 7:274ff. See also Kaḥḥāla, Muᶜjam, 15:10 (on the father); 13:149 (on the son Hishām). 85 Ibn Qutayba al-Dīnawarī, Maᶜārif, 1:536, kān aᶜlam al-nās bi-l-ansāb. 86 Al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 16:68. 87 For the biographical information and the list of extant works, see al-Ṣafadī, Wāfī, 27:212; Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 96; Ibn Khallikān, Wafayāt, 6:82; al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 16:68; al-Najāshī, Rijāl, 434 (#1166); al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 14:418–420; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 10:101–103. See also Muṣṭafā, Ta’rīkh, 1:191–193.
Establishing Pro-ᶜ Abbāsid Orthodoxy 117 Of these, four are extant: Kitāb al-aṣnām, Jamharat Maᶜad wa-l-Yaman al- kabīr, Jamharat ansāb al-ᶜarab, and Ansāb al-khayl.88 His writings are important due to their accounts of pre-Islamic Arabia, tribal genealogy, and customs. Just as with other early Muslim historians, there is a dispute about Hishām ibn al-Kalbī among classical biographers. We are told that he forced himself to memorize the Qur’ān in three days, until he almost lost his mind.89 Al- Dhahabī does not view him as reliable, and states that, “even though al-Kalbī was abundantly smart, he was not trustworthy.”90 Al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī reports that Hishām ibn al-Kalbī once stated, “I have memorized more than anyone else, and I also forgot more than anyone else.”91 Concerning Hishām’s religious inclinations, al-Dhahabī reports that various Sunnī authorities refer to Hishām as untrusted.92 This is unsurprising since Hishām was known for his Shīᶜite sympathies. Ibn Ḥibbān affirms that Hishām was not only Shīᶜite but precisely ghāliyan fī al-tashayyuᶜ (extreme in his Shīᶜite tendency)93 and that his father was saba’iyyan from among the companions of Abdullāh ibn Saba’, who claimed that ᶜAlī did not die and would soon return.94 Like Ibn Ḥibbān, Ibn Khallikān points out that Muḥammad ibn al-Kalbī (Hishām’s father) was a companion of ᶜAbdullāh ibn Saba’, who initiated the Saba’iyya.95 Ibn ᶜAsākir refers to both Hishām and his father as Shīᶜite liars.96 Al-Dhahabī writes that Hishām was not only ᶜallāma akhbarī (a knowledgeable historian) but also Shīᶜite and matrūk (useless, or literally left aside as untrusted), like his father.97 According to al-Ṣafadī, the Sunnī Muslim authority Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal “hated” Hishām.98 It is thus unsurprising that various Shīᶜite authorities are open about Hishām as a devoted Shīᶜite. Abū al-ᶜAbbās al-Najāshī (d. 450/ 88 Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 95–96. On Kitāb al-aṣnām and its conversion stories involving idols, see Lecker, “Was Arabian Idol Worship,” 3ff. 89 Al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 16:68; in other reports seven days. See Ibn Ḥibbān, Majrūhūn, 2:254; Ibn Khallikān, Wafayāt, 6:82. According to al-Dhahabī, Ibn al-Kalbī was critiqued because of his claim to have memorized the Qur’ān in three days. Al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 10:102. Note that Ibn Ḥibbān was a Shāfiᶜite. Van Ess, Theology, 2:638. 90 Al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 14:420. Al-Khaṭīb states that “no one narrates on his authority.” Al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 16:68; see also Dāraquṭnī, Ḍuᶜafā’, 3:130, 135. 91 Al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 16:68; also Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam, 6:2779. 92 Al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 10:102. 93 Ibn Ḥibbān, Majrūḥīn, 3:91. For a recent study on tashayyuᶜ, see Mushegh Asatryan, “The Good, the Bad, and the Heretic in Early Islamic History,” in Deconstructing, ed. Daneshgar and Hughes, 204–251. 94 Ibn Ḥibbān, Majrūḥīn, 2:253–256; Muṣṭafā, Ta’rīkh, 1:190–191. 95 Ibn Khallikān, Wafayāt, 4:310. 96 Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 73:344. 97 Al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 10:101. 98 Al-Ṣafadī, Wāfī, 27:212.
118 Conversion to Islam 1058), a Shīᶜite expert in biographical information of ḥadīth transmitters, lists Hishām as one of the major Shīᶜite authorities and identifies him as kān yakhtaṣṣ bi-madhhabinā (he was a dedicated one to our way, sect, or school of thought).99 Like al-Najāshī, Ibn al-Muṭahhar al-Ḥillī (d. 726/1325) makes a similar statement about Hishām.100 Hishām’s religious inclination is clear: He was a Shīᶜite expert in genealogies and historical accounts. As for Hishām’s involvement in political circles, he appears to have gained al-Mahdī’s (d. 169/786) favor.101 We are told that Hishām and his father lived in the court of al-Ma’mūn: Not only did his father narrate for the caliph, but their relationship was close to the extent that the caliph “regretted tremendously” when Hishām’s father died.102 Moreover, Hishām wrote numerous books dedicated to powerful political figures. According to Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Hishām wrote a book on genealogy titled al-Farīd fī al-ansāb and dedicated it to the Caliph al-Ma’mūn (d. 218/833). Before this book, Hishām wrote another, al-Mulūkī fī al-ansāb, dedicated to the powerful Jaᶜfar ibn Yaḥyā al- Barmakī (d. 187/803), who was Persian vizier of the Caliph Hārūn al-Rāshīd (d. 193/809).103 Thus, Hishām and his father served in ᶜAbbāsid circles. Petersen studies Hishām ibn al-Kalbī’s accounts and concludes that Hishām, like his father, was pro-ᶜAbbāsid, pro-ᶜAlid, and strongly anti-Umayyad.104
Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim (d. 212/827) Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim is an important Shīᶜite historian from the second century of Islam. His accounts will be contrasted with another Shīᶜite historian who
99 Al-Najāshī, Rijāl, 434 (#1166). 100 Ibn al-Muṭahhar al-Ḥillī, Khulāṣat al-aqwāl, 437. 101 See the comments of Petersen, ᶜAlī, 76. 102 Al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 16:68; on Ibn al-Kalbī’s father, see Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 95, where we know he wrote a Tafsīr; Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ta’rīkh, 1:423; Ibn Qutayba al-Dīnawarī, Maᶜārif, 1:535–536, where we also know of his Tafsīr; his father died in ah 146. Ibn Khallikān, Wafayāt, 4:311. Muṣṭafā, Ta’rīkh, 1:191, where he states that even the son did serve al-Ma’mūn. 103 Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam, 6:2781; Muṣṭafā, al-Ta’rīkh al-ᶜarabī wa-l-mu’arrikhūn, 1:191, where he states that even the son did serve al-Ma’mūn. See Sourdel, “al-Faḍl b. Yaḥyā al-Barmakī,” EI2, 2:732, where “he was particularly distinguished by the benevolence he showed towards the inhabitants of the eastern provinces and by his policy of conciliation with regard to the ᶜAlids, perhaps going so far as to support the establishment of an independent Zaydī State in Daylam.” See also Sourdel, “al-Barāmika,” EI2, 1:1033ff.; Bouvat, Les Barmécides, 25ff. 104 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 75–77, where he writes that Hishām ibn al-Kalbī’s “transmission is strongly anti- Umayyad, but well disposed, even though occasionally somewhat forbearing, towards ᶜAlī, who (with all his pious fairness) is now being eclipsed by b. ᶜAbbās” (77).
Establishing Pro-ᶜ Abbāsid Orthodoxy 119 lived under the Umayyads, Sulaym ibn Qays. Ibn al-Nadīm places Naṣr in the same class as Abū Mikhnaf (d. 157/774), following Ibn Isḥāq, which reflects not only the importance of Naṣr but also the way Ibn al-Nadīm views and classifies him as a historian, like the other two.105 Information on Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim’s early life is scarce, but, according to al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, he was born in Kūfa and lived most of his life in Baghdad, a city which was flourishing with knowledge and scholarship.106 Some classical authorities evaluated Naṣr and his works positively: Ibn Ḥibbān mentions him among the trusted sources and reports that Naṣr narrated on the authority of important scholars, including Sufyān al- Thawrī.107 Others did not trust Naṣr. Al-Jūzjānī assesses him as zā’ighan ᶜan al-ḥaqq (divergent from the truth).108 Abū Jaᶜfar al-ᶜUqaylī (d. 323/ 934) places Naṣr among the weak narrators.109 Abū al-Ḥasan al-Dāraquṭnī categorizes him as weak and untrusted.110 Like al-Dāraquṭnī, Abū Yaᶜlā al- Khalīlī al-Qazwīnī affirms that the scholars of the ḥadīth identified Naṣr as “extremely weak.”111 Al-Khaṭīb states that various authorities described Naṣr as “exaggerating in his madhhab (way, or school of thought), and that he was untrusted in his ḥadīth.”112 The Sunnī authority Ibn Ḥajar al- ᶜAsqalānī, relying on various sources, affirms that Naṣr was Shīᶜite and greatly mistaken in his accounts.113 Concerning Naṣr’s religious views, it is plausible to conclude that he was a Shīᶜite pro-ᶜAlid historian. The Shīᶜite authority al-Ṭūsī places him among the companions of the fifth Shīᶜite Imam Bāqir (d. 125/743), although this seems 105 Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 93; al-Ṣafadī, Wāfī, 27:56. On Naṣr and his work, see Sezgin, Ta’rīkh, 1:2:137–138; Brockelmann, History, 1:211; Brockelmann, Ta’rīkh, 3:37; Muṣṭafā, Ta’rīkh, 1:67. Petersen, ᶜAlī, 24, where he identifies Abū Mikhnaf as a pro-Iraqi (pro-ᶜAbbāsid) writer. On Abū Mikhnaf (d. 157/774), see Sezgin, Ta’rīkh, 1:2:127–130; Brockelmann, Ta’rīkh, 3:36. Abū Mikhnaf is known to be the earliest historian to compile accounts on al-Ḥusayn’s life and martyrdom at Karbalā’ in his now lost Kitāb Maqtal al-Ḥusayn. See Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 93. The book is found in various Shīᶜite circles based on al-Kalbī’s accounts of Abū Mikhnaf. It is merely a collection of quotes, so it cannot be truly descriptive of Abū Mikhnaf ’s work. The Arabic version is also translated by Hamid Mavani and edited by Mushtaq Kurji into English. See Abū Mikhnaf, Kitāb Maqtal al-Ḥusayn. 106 Al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 15:381ff. Ibn al-Nadīm points out that Naṣr was from Banū Manqar and was a ᶜaṭṭāran (spice dealer). Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 93; also al-Jurjānī, Kāmil, 8:285– 286. See al-Ziriklī, Aᶜlām, 8:28; Kaḥḥāla, Muᶜjam, 13:92; Muṣṭafā, Ta’rīkh, 1:97–98. 107 Ibn Ḥibbān, Thiqāt, 9:215; al-Jurjānī, Kāmil, 8:286. 108 Al-Jūzjānī, Aḥwāl, 1:132. On al- Jūzjānī, see al- Dhahabī, Siyar, 10:194– 195; Muṣṭafā, Ta’rīkh, 1:212. 109 Al-ᶜUqaylī, Ḍuᶜafā’, 4:300; on al-ᶜUqaylī, see al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 15:237ff. 110 Al-Dāraquṭnī, Ḍuᶜafā’, 3:134; also al-Dāraquṭnī, Mu’talif, 4:2202. 111 See al-Qazwīnī, Irshād, 2:572, where he writes of Naṣr, ḍaᶜᶜafahu al-ḥuffāẓu jiddan (the ḥadīth scholars identified him as very weak). 112 Al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 15:382. 113 Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī, Lisān, 6:157.
120 Conversion to Islam to contradict the presumed date of Naṣr’s death in 212/827.114 Because al- Ṭūsī identified Naṣr in this capacity, we can be certain of Naṣr’s strong ᶜAlid inclinations. Like al-Ṭūsī, al-Najāshī and al-Ḥillī—both Shīᶜite authorities— praise Naṣr, identifying him as mustaqīm al-ṭarīqa (sound in his methods) and pious, and including him in their list of important Shīᶜite narrators.115 Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī writes that Naṣr was an extreme Shīᶜite, though knowledgeable in history.116 Shams al-Dīn al-Dhahabī identifies Naṣr as a Kūfan Shīᶜite rāfiḍī.117 As for Naṣr’s political views, he probably disfavored and opposed the ᶜAbbāsids. According to Abū al-Faraj al-Isfahānī, Naṣr participated in the rebellion of Abū al-Sarāyā against the ᶜAbbāsids around the year 200/815.118 This indicates that Naṣr opposed the ᶜAbbāsids. Thus, it appears that Naṣr was a Shīᶜite, likely pro-ᶜAlid, and anti-ᶜAbbāsid at the time.119 Concerning Naṣr’s works, al-Ṭūsī refers to several, including Kitāb Ṣiffīn and Maqtal al-Ḥusayn.120 Al-Najāshī and Ibn al-Muṭahhar al-Ḥillī both assert that Naṣr’s works were thorough, although he relied on untrusted people.121 The importance of Kitāb waqᶜat Ṣiffīn to my analysis is at least two-fold. First, Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim’s work is the earliest available Shīᶜite historical tradition from the ᶜAbbāsid era. Petersen writes that Naṣr, as a Shīᶜite historian, “constitutes a focal point of the early Shiite historical writing.”122 This 114 Al-Ṭūsī, Fihrist, 147. 115 Al-Najāshī, Rijāl, 427–428 (#1148); Ibn al-Muṭahhar al-Ḥillī, Khulāṣat al-aqwāl fī maᶜrifat ᶜilm al-rijāl, 428. Al-Najāshī and al-Ḥillī, however, question Naṣr’s reliance on unreliable sources. 116 Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam, 6:2750; al-Ṣafadī, Wāfī, 27:56. 117 Al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 3:546, 15:426ff. On the term rāfiḍī, see Kohlberg, “al-Rāfiḍa,” EI2, 8:386ff. 118 Al-Isfahānī, Maqātil, 355. Abū al-Sarāyā’s revolution is one of the most impactful revolutions against the ᶜAbbāsids. Abū al-Sarāyā (d. 200/815) was an ex-soldier of the ᶜAbbāsids and became the military commander of the anti-ᶜAbbāsid rebellion (led by Ibn Ṭabāṭabā) against al-Ma’mūn. Many responded to the inspiring call against the ᶜAbbāsids, as the then-imam brought the sons of Imam Mūsā ibn Jaᶜfar and appointed them army leaders. However, al-Ma’mūn destroyed the revolution in its beginnings by bringing Imam al-Riḍā to Khurasān and offering to make him his heir in the caliphate, suggesting leniency toward the ᶜAlids. Eventually, Abū al-Sarāyā was defeated and executed in 201/816. See Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ta’rīkh, 469–470; al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 13:70–76; Kennedy, Early, 152, 207–211; Roggema, Legend, 88; also see the brief treatment of Nawas, Al-Ma’mūn, 25; Cooperson, Classical, 96; Andersson, Early, 77. 119 On the difference between pro-ᶜAlid and pro-ᶜAbbāsid, and cases for pro-ᶜAlid and anti- ᶜAbbāsid, see Petersen, ᶜAlī, 68ff. For distinguishing ᶜAlids from Shīᶜites, see Crone, Nativist Prophets, 109–115, 119ff., 192ff., 219ff., 495ff., where she refers to the ᶜAlids as descendants of ᶜAlī, while Shīᶜism is “the form of Islam which holds the Prophet’s family to be the only source of true religio-political leaders [imams] of the Muslim community found in many forms.” See also Halm, Shīᶜism, 1–27, 154ff. 120 Al-Ṭūsī, Fihrist, 171–172. On the importance of Naṣr’s Kitāb waqᶜat Ṣiffīn, see the statements of the Shīᶜite scholar al-Majlisī, Biḥār al-anwār, 31:529, 32:398–420, 33:167, 86:118, where he refers to and uses the source extensively. 121 Al-Najāshī, Rijāl, 427–428; Ibn al-Muṭahhar al-Ḥillī, Khulāṣat, 428. For Naṣr’s utilization of sources, see Anthony, Caliph, 135–138; Petersen, ᶜAlī, 18 n.30; Yahya, “Events,” 91–112. 122 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 107.
Establishing Pro-ᶜ Abbāsid Orthodoxy 121 is important, especially if we compare his accounts with earlier Shīᶜite accounts. For instance, while Naṣr was a Shīᶜite author under the ᶜAbbāsids, Sulaym ibn Qays wrote under the Umayyads (as discussed in Chapter 2). Did their portrayals of conversion differ in any way? What were their apparent concerns? While both embrace seemingly similar Shīᶜite sympathies, what is unique about their similar reports on conversion? These areas suggest the importance of analyzing Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim’s accounts on conversion. Second, during the second hijrī century boost in Arabic history writing, the political tension between various groups (pro-ᶜAlid, pro-or anti-ᶜAbbāsid, pro- Umayyad, and so forth) undoubtedly affected history writing.123 Comparing and contrasting Naṣr’s accounts to other non-Shīᶜite reports can inform us of the ways through which historians adjust their accounts to serve their agendas. Petersen compares Naṣr and al-Balādhurī and asserts that the former was in favor of ᶜAlī while the latter was pro-Umayyad (anti-ᶜAlī).124 Petersen observes the contrast between Sayf ibn ᶜUmar (pro-Syrian and pro-ᶜUthmān) and Naṣr (pro-ᶜAlid).125 Like Petersen, Sean Anthony studies Naṣr’s use of Sayf ibn ᶜUmar’s accounts and concludes, “While Naṣr shared many things in common with Sayf on the one hand (both were Kūfan, both were Tamīmī, both were specialists in historical akhbār, etc.), they wrote their histories from opposite ends of the sectarian spectrum.”126 Thus, in this investigation, it is essential to compare authors with different views, as we analyze and contrast their descriptions of conversion.
Ibn Isḥāq (d. 151/761) and Ibn Hishām (d. 218/833) I combine Ibn Isḥāq and Ibn Hishām in one section because the major work of the former is not extant and we know about it only through the edited version provided by the latter. Ibn Isḥāq, the grandson of a captured slave, was born in Medina ca. 85/704 under Umayyad rule and died in Baghdad in 151/767 during the ᶜAbbāsid Caliphate.127 He reportedly traveled from 123 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 19, 20, where he explains how religio-political interests affected the portrayal of ᶜAlī in historical accounts. Petersen relies on Theodor Nöldeke’s Zur tendentiosen. See Robinson, Historiography, 34. On Nöldeke, see Badawī, Mawsūᶜat al-mustashriqīn, 595–599. 124 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 24. 125 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 120. 126 Anthony, Caliph, 136; also Petersen, ᶜAlī, 120. 127 Al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 7:33, as he writes Ibn Isḥāq was born in ah 80 for a grandfather of the first captives came to Medina from Iraq; Ibn Hishām and Ibn Isḥāq, Life, xiii–xiv; Robinson, Historiography, 27; see also al-Ṭūsī, Rijāl, 277 (entry # 3998); J. M. B. Jones, “Ibn Isḥāḳ,” EI2,
122 Conversion to Islam Medina to Egypt in 115/733 and studied in Alexandria,128 before moving again to Baghdad, where he served under the second ᶜAbbāsid caliph, Abū Jaᶜfar al-Manṣūr (d. 158/775), who commissioned Ibn Isḥāq to write the Sīra (prophetic biography).129 Many speak highly of Ibn Isḥāq’s accounts. The Sunnī authority al-ᶜIjlī (d. 261/874), in his Kitāb al-thiqāt, lists Ibn Isḥāq as a trustworthy Medinan narrator.130 According to al-Dhahabī, Ibn Isḥāq was among the most capable of memorizing traditions, the first to write al-ᶜilm (knowledge), and the first to compile the maghāzī at Medina.131 Relying on Yaᶜqūb al-Fasawī, al-Dhahabī states that Ibn Isḥāq was trustworthy in all of his reports except ḥādīthayn (two prophetic sayings), or four in another report.132 Ibn Saᶜd writes that many rely on Ibn Isḥāq’s narration, but some consider him weak in his traditions.133 Ibn Maᶜīn states that Ibn Isḥāq was trusted but was not ḥujja (exemplary).134 While some classical authorities consider Ibn Isḥāq a trustworthy narrator of Muhammad’s sīra, others view him as mudallis (faking aḥādīth), munkar (rejected or objectionable), and a liar.135 Ibn al-Nadīm assesses
3:810–811, where he writes that Ibn Isḥāq “was born in Medina in about 85/704, and, according to the majority of the sources, died in Baghdad in 150/767.” 128 Al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 3:47; al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 9:352. 129 See Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ṭabaqāt, 471, 612; also Ibn Khallikān, Wafayāt, 4:277, where he writes, “Ibn Isḥāq came to Abū Jaᶜfar al-Manṣūr at Ḥīra and wrote the maghāzī for him.” See Muṣṭafā, Ta’rīkh, 1:67, where he writes that Ibn Isḥāq seems to have been partial toward the caliph. On Ibn Isḥāq and the ᶜAbbāsids, see Anthony, Muhammad, 150–173. See also Robinson, Historiography, 26; Brown, Muhammad, 87. On al-Manṣūr and his rule and claims to power, see Lassner, Shaping, 24–30, as he discusses the claims of al-Manṣūr regarding his succession to Abū al-ᶜAbbās; Lassner, Medieval, 138; Sellheim, “Prophet,” 39, 43. See also Kennedy, Prophet, 127–136, as he describes the Golden Age of the ᶜAbbāsid Caliphate, 145/763–193/809, including the reign of al-Manṣūr; also Kennedy, “The Reign of al-Muqtadir (295–320/908–932)” in Crisis, ed. Berkel et al., 13–14. See Ibn Qutayba al-Dīnawarī, Maᶜārif, 1:377; al-Fasawī, Maᶜrifa, 1:116, 128; al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 1:369ff.; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 7:83–89, on al-Manṣūr. 130 Al-ᶜIjlī, Ta’rīkh al-thiqāt, 400 (entry 1433); J. M. B. Jones, “Ibn Isḥāḳ,” EI2, 3:810–811. 131 Al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 7:47– 48. On ᶜilm, see Rosenthal, Knowledge, 5–27; Rosenthal, Historiography, 10ff., 59ff., on ᶜilm al-akhbār. See also Petersen, ᶜAlī, 16, 17, 25, where ᶜilm is knowledge, and it does “not generally mean the result of independent reasoning but merely the ability to cite some competent authority” (16). For ᶜilm, see Furlow, “ᶜilm is Islam,” in Deconstructing, ed. Daneshgar and Hughes, 145ff. 132 Al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 7:45, 51. 133 Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 5:451. 134 Yaḥyā ibn Maᶜīn, Ta’rīkh, 3:225. 135 Al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 7:46,49–50, 54; On mudallis as someone faking his own informants, see Ibn al-Ṣalāḥ, Maᶜrifat, 156–162; al-Ṣafadī, Wāfī, 4:169; Juynboll, Encyclopedia, 413, 606, 773, where mudallis refers to the one “who tampers with isnād.” See also Juynboll, Muslim, 22, 52, 174, 179, 181, 183, 187. On munkar as a weak muḥaddith narrating what he is ignorant about or what other trustworthy narrators have known better, see Ibn al-Ṣalāḥ, Maᶜrifat, 1:169–173; Juynboll, Muslim, 57, 82, 162, 170, 185,188, 219, 25–29, 231, 233–235, where munkar means rejected, objectionable, and unacknowledged.
Establishing Pro-ᶜ Abbāsid Orthodoxy 123 Ibn Isḥāq negatively, accusing him of fabricating narratives, mistaking genealogies, and adopting reports from Jews and Christians while praising them as people of early science.136 Ibn ᶜAdī al-Jurjānī (d. 365/ 976) places Ibn Isḥāq in the list of ḍuᶜafā’ al-r ijāl (weak traditionists) and reports him as a liar and a heretic who relied on Jews in his accounts and forged traditions to gain money.137 Some accuse Ibn Isḥāq of favoring Shīᶜism or of having ᶜAlid sympathies. The Sunnī authority Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī asserts that Ibn Isḥāq adopted Shīᶜite tendencies and was mudallis (a forger of traditions).138 Some Shīᶜite authorities are open about Ibn Isḥāq’s Shīᶜite inclinations. The early Shīᶜite jurist ᶜAbd al-R aḥmān al-B arqī (d. ca. 274/888) identifies Ibn Isḥāq as ṣāḥib al-Sīra (the Sīra’s author) and ṣāḥib al-Maghāzī (the Maghāzī’s writer).139 The shīᶜ authority al-Ṭūsī (d. 460/1068) places him among the companions of the sixth Imam, al- Ṣādiq (d. 148/ 765).140 Like al- Ṭūsī, Ibn al- Muṭahhar al-Ḥillī (d. 726/1325) states that Ibn Isḥāq was Shīᶜite and a companion of the fifth Imam al-B āqir (d. 114/733).141 In contemporary Shīᶜite scholarship, Jaᶜfar al-Subḥānī (1929–) emphatically argues that Ibn Isḥāq was shīᶜiyyan mujāhiran (openly Shīᶜite).142 Thus, it appears that Ibn Isḥāq, like many of the ḥadīth scholars of his day, used to narrate traditions for living under the ᶜAbbāsids. He most likely had some Shīᶜite or pro-ᶜAlid sympathies. This rings true since he operated under the Caliph al-Manṣūr, who was not as hostile to the ᶜAlids as his successor, Caliph Hārūn.143 Recognizing Ibn Isḥāq’s inclinations here is important, especially as we shall compare them shortly to those of Ibn Hishām, who appears to have adopted anti-ᶜAlid tendencies. Moreover, while Ibn Isḥāq is known as an authority of Muhammad’s Sīra, we must not ignore that he accomplished his entire work under the patronage of a fiercely strong ᶜAbbāsid
136 Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 92; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 7:53. Michael Lecker discusses the possible Christian and Jewish heritage of Ibn Isḥāq and concludes, “Ibn Isḥāq’s grandfather Yasār was Jewish.” Lecker, “Muḥammad ibn Isḥāq,” in Books, ed. Rippin and Tottoli, 36; also Lecker, “Notes,” 246. 137 Al-Jurjānī, Kāmil, 7:254ff. 138 Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī, Taqrīb, 1:467. 139 Al-Barqī, Rijāl, 10, 20. 140 Al-Ṭūsī, Rijāl, 277 (entry # 3998). On the Sīra, see Brockelmann, History, 1:122–123; see Brockelmann, Ta’rīkh, 3:10 (on Ibn Isḥāq) and 3:12–13 (on Ibn Hishām). See Berg, “ᶜAbbāsid,” 35, n.82. 141 Ibn al-Muṭahhar al-Ḥillī, Khulāṣat al-aqwāl, 363. 142 Al-Subḥānī, Dūr al-shīᶜa, 46. 143 See Petersen, ᶜAlī, 68, 116. Compare with al-Isfahānī, Maqātil, 387ff.; al-Masᶜūdī, Murūj, 3:293ff.; Yaᶜqūbī, Ta’rīkh, 2:499; al-Dūrī, al-ᶜAṣr, 110ff.; Abū Khalīl, Hārūn, 194ff.
124 Conversion to Islam ruler, and completed his major work during the last years of his life in fulfillment of the caliph’s commission.144 Ibn Isḥāq’s well-known work is al-Sīra al-nabawiyya or Sīrat rasūl Allāh— a work probably recounting Muhammad’s biography. However, this work is problematic for various reasons. While Ibn Isḥāq’s Sīra is considered the earliest written prophetic biography, it is inadvisable to view it as reliable for this reason alone. The early publication of the Sīra does not guarantee its reliability. This is even more problematic because we do not possess Ibn Isḥāq’s actual work. Ibn Isḥāq’s Sīrat rasūl Allāh reached us through the recension of his student al- Bakkā’ī, which was later edited (or, more accurately, censored) by Ibn Hishām and is now extant in copies.145 What we do possess is, therefore, the account attributed to Ibn Isḥāq as abridged by Ibn Hishām, who relied on one particular recension supposedly achieved by al-Bakkā’ī. Chase Robinson declares, “Just how faithful Ibn Hishām was to Ibn Isḥāq is a question that scholars have pondered over.”146 The question is legitimate, as Ibn Hishām himself admits to “omitting some of the things which Ibn Isḥāq has recorded in [his Sīra].”147 I argue that the Sīra, as we have it today, is better viewed as a product of Ibn Hishām and his day rather than a product of Ibn Isḥāq. Although the writing of the Sīra was supposedly commissioned to Ibn Isḥāq by the early ᶜAbbāsid rulers, specifically by Abū Jaᶜfar al-Manṣūr, the censorship applied to Ibn Isḥāq’s work reflects the time of Ibn Hishām and his sectarian and sociopolitical requirements.148 The choices made by Ibn Hishām in keeping
144 On caliphs commissioning history writing, see Muṣṭafā, Ta’rīkh, 1:67–68. Ibn Isḥāq died in 151/761 in Baghdad. Caliph al-Manṣūr reigned from 136/754 through 158/775. Ibn Isḥāq reportedly resided in Iraq and wrote his Sīra after the caliph commissioned him. This indicates that Ibn Isḥāq should have completed the task of writing during the last decade of his life. See also Amīn, Ḍuḥā, 2:319–360. See the critical observations on Ibn Isḥāq by Djait, Tārīkhiyyat al-daᶜwa al- Muḥammadiyya, 214–220. 145 Donner, Narratives, 132; Robinson, Historiography, 38; Conrad, “Recovering Lost Texts,” in Quest, ed. Ibn Warraq, 476ff. On censoring the sīra, see Ibn Hishām and Ibn Isḥāq, Life, 691. Guillaume points to several other recensions and argues they are of less credibility (xxx). The Kūfan al-Bakkā’ī (d. 183/799) is identified by al-Dhahabī as Ibn Isḥāq’s reliable transmitter. Al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 9:5–6, where Ibn Isḥāq dictated the Sīra twice to al-Bakkā’ī. See also Khoury, “Sources,” 10. For a critical assessment of the Sīra, see Djait, Tārīkhiyyat, 26–42, 211–214. For comments on the manuscript which allegedly contains some of Ibn Isḥāq’s reports, see Guillaume, New Light, 5–58. 146 Robinson, Historiography, 65. On Ibn Hishām, see Sezgin, Ta’rīkh, 1:2:106–111. 147 Ibn Hishām and Ibn Isḥāq, Life, 691. Cf. Watt, “Ibn Hishām,” EI2, 3:800; Berg, ᶜAbbāsid,” 34, where he argues, “Ibn Hishām actively suppressed or edited the problematic material about al- ᶜAbbās that he had inherited from Ibn Isḥaq.” On how Ibn Hishām distorted Ibn Isḥāq’s Sīra, see Mu’nis, Tanqiyat, 19–42. See Lecker, “Notes,” 233–246, where he studies “a case of self-censorship applied by one of Ibn Isḥāq’s informants and two cases of censorship applied by Ibn Hishām, who omitted many of his predecessor’s materials.” 148 See Sellheim, “Prophet,” 33–91. Compare with Brown, Muhammad, 87; Berg, “ᶜAbbāsid,” 17ff.; Hibri, “Redemption,” 263–265.
Establishing Pro-ᶜ Abbāsid Orthodoxy 125 or removing particular reports from Ibn Isḥāq’s accounts have undoubtedly resulted in a different representation of Muhammad’s sīra which is more suitable for Ibn Hishām’s contexts. While Rizwi Faizer views the Sīra as a product of Ibn Isḥāq, I do not find his claim justifiable.149 Ibn Khallikān (d. 681/1282) states that Ibn Hishām hadhdhab al-sīra wa lakhkhaṣahā (abridged the biography and summarized it).150 Ṣalāḥ al- Dīn al-Ṣafadī states that Ibn Hishām heard the Sīra from al-Bakkā’ī, then hadhdhabahā (abridged it), naqqaḥahā (emended and expurgated), ḥadhaf minhā (deleted from it), and added to it.151 If true, these changes indicate not an editing process but the censoring and creation of a newly compiled account. Shams al-Dīn al-Dhahabī (d. 748/1348) calls Ibn Hishām muhadhdhib al-Sīra al-nabawiyya (the amender or polisher of the Sīra), explaining that Ibn Hishām not only heard the Sīra but also emended it, deleted from it, and added to it.152 Thus, Ibn Isḥāq’s Sīra was reportedly abridged, censored, summarized, emended, and polished. It underwent additions, deletions, and omissions. How can we still consider it Ibn Isḥāq’s? Because these adjustments are all attributed to Ibn Hishām, he should be viewed as the Sīra’s real designer. The Sīra is better attributed to Ibn Hishām and his ᶜAbbāsid time.153 While the motivations behind his editing decisions are unclear, there are some scholarly arguments in this regard. Contemporary Iranian scholar Jaᶜfar al-Subḥānī (1929–) argues for sectarian reasons: Ibn Hishām recognized the devotion of Ibn Isḥāq to the ᶜAlids; accordingly, in his edited version of the Sīra, he erased what did not fit his anti-ᶜAlid preferences, particularly the faḍā’il ahl al-bayt (excellent qualities of Muhammad’s Household, i.e., the ᶜAlids).154 Al-Subḥānī’s assertion undoubtedly reflects his Shīᶜite pro-ᶜAlī perspective, but it is valid considering Rudolf Sellheim’s statement that the Sīra is arguably not only
149 Faizer, “Muhammad,” 463; also Faizer, “Ibn Isḥāq,” ch.1. 150 Ibn Khallikān, Wafayāt, 3:177. 151 Al-Ṣafadī, Wāfī, 19:142. Thus, Robinson rightly observes, “[Ibn Isḥāq] was an authority whose work was eclipsed by what became a normative version (Ibn Hishām’s).” Robinson, Historiography, 40; Mu’nis, Tanqiyat, 19–42. 152 Al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 15:281. It should be noted that Patricia Crone defends Ibn Hishām and suggests that he “clearly saw himself as an editor rather than a censor.” Crone, Slaves, 6. 153 See Sezgin, Ta’rīkh, 1:2:87–91, where Ibn Isḥāq is the first among the ᶜAbbāsid authors. See also Robinson, Historiography, 40, where he appears to consider Ibn Hishām the creator of the “normative version” of the Sīra, which eclipsed that of Ibn Isḥāq. Indeed, the Sīra is an entirely ᶜAbbāsid account; at the end, Ibn Isḥāq (d. 151/761) reportedly wrote it for the ᶜAbbāsid Caliph al-Manṣūr (r. 136/754– 158/775), and Ibn Hishām (d. 218/833) lived entirely within the ᶜAbbāsid realm. 154 Al-Subḥānī, Dūr al-shīᶜa, 44–47, especially 46.
126 Conversion to Islam anti-Umayyad and pro-ᶜAbbāsid but precisely anti-ᶜAlid.155 While a sectarian reason for Ibn Hishām’s edits is possible, it should not be viewed as the sole or even the main reason. The caliphal political requirements could have changed between the time of Ibn Isḥāq (d. 151/761) and Ibn Hishām (d. 218/ 833). Michael Lecker reflects on the censorship of the Sīra and writes of the social and political contexts which enforce self-censorship.156 It is reasonable to argue that Ibn Isḥāq and Ibn Hishām, as compilers of Muhammad’s accounts, differ in their attitudes due to their audiences and religious and sociopolitical circumstances. Thus, Lecker hopes “for future researchers, who may be able to determine what Ibn Hishām omitted by employing sources that quote Ibn Isḥāq’s uncensored accounts, thereby clarifying the difference in the attitudes of the two compilers.”157 Lecker’s assertion of “the different attitudes” of the two compilers is convincing and plausible. However, I am less hopeful for a successful reconstruction of “what Ibn Hishām omitted,” especially due to the absence of relevant documentation to identify any “uncensored accounts.” In my estimation, the different attitudes can be attributed to the differing time periods, as well as the various social and political concerns to which Ibn Isḥāq and Ibn Hishām responded. Ibn Isḥāq (d. 151/761) reportedly lived in Medina, Egypt, and Iraq and wrote his Sīra while in Baghdad for al-Manṣūr (r. 136/754–158/775), which suggests he wrote it during the last decade of his
155 See Sellheim, “Prophet,” where he emphatically argues that the bias of the Sīra is pro-ᶜAbbāsid and anti-ᶜAlid. On how the Sīra is pro-ᶜAbbāsid, especially elevating al-ᶜAbbās and placing him in good light, see Brown, Muhammad, 87, where he explains how the Sīra depicts the enemies of al- ᶜAbbās unfavorably and al-ᶜAbbās in a good light, portraying him as the protector of Muhammad in the two ᶜAqaba pledges, insisting that al-ᶜAbbās converted to Islam in secret even before Badr. See also Berg, “ᶜAbbāsid,” 17ff. On the ᶜAbbāsid “competing claims” against the ᶜAlids, see Hibri, “Redemption,” 241–265, especially the conclusion, 263–265. Lassner argues, “The favorable rendering of ᶜAlī that occurs on occasion does not detract from the Sirah’s pro-Abbasid bias.” See Lassner, Middle East, 314 n. 5, where he draws attention to Uri Rubin’s reservations that ᶜAlī actually occupied a prominent position in the Sīra. See Rubin, “Prophets,” 41–65. See also Lassner, Medieval, 138. 156 Lecker, “Glimpses of Muḥammad’s Medinan Decade,” in Cambridge Companion, ed. Brockopp, 62. Lecker labels the sectarian reason “apologetic.” Robinson states, “The rise of the historiographic tradition, whether or not it was triggered by caliphal patronage, was a deeply political process.” Robinson, Historiography, 40. See also, though to a lesser extent, Lecker, Muslims, 92 and Appendix B, 154–155. 157 See Lecker, “Glimpses,” in Cambridge Companion, ed. Brockopp, 62 n. 2. On the ᶜAbbāsid political influence on creating and forgetting the past, see Borrut, “Vanishing”; Borrut, Entre, 17; Donner, Narratives, 276–282. Chase Robinson rightly argues that narrators and transmitters “were not simply taking liberties with texts: they were generating the texts themselves.” Robinson, Historiography, 38. See also Décobert, Le Mendiant, 34. On how political influence affects literary choices, see the ṣūfī work by al-ᶜAlawī, Maḥaṭṭāt fī al-tārīkh, 19–20, as he argues that Muslims fabricated historical reports for sociopolitical and sectarian reasons. See also Hoyland, Seeing, 35, where he believes that narrative accounts were virtually “open.”
Establishing Pro-ᶜ Abbāsid Orthodoxy 127 life, after al-Manṣūr became caliph.158 Ibn Hishām (d. 218/833), on the other hand, was born in Baṣra but lived most of his life in Egypt and witnessed the reign of various ᶜAbbāsid caliphs, including Hārūn al-Rashīd (r. 170/786– 193/809), al-Amīn (r. 193/809–198/813), and al-Ma’mūn (r. 198/813–218/ 833), who enforced the miḥna in the year before he died.159 The ᶜAbbāsid policies and requirements differed significantly between the successive caliphs al-Manṣūr, Hārūn al-Rashīd, al-Amīn, and al-Ma’mūn. Some were neutral toward the ᶜAlids and Shīᶜism, while others targeted them.160 Some were hostile to Muᶜtazilism, while others adopted it.161 Since Ibn Isḥāq and Ibn Hishām served the rulers of their day, it is not plausible for one to assume the two authors served the exact same purposes. I argue that the Sīra is better attributed to Ibn Hishām and should be viewed as representing his day and his sociopolitical and religious concerns. Ibn Hishām wrote additional works, including the Kitāb al-Tījān fī mulūk Ḥimyar.162 It is possible that he dedicated a book to Ḥimyar and Himyarites because he was reportedly a Himyarite.163 According to Watt, “[Ibn Hishām’s] family was usually said to be of Ḥimyarite origin, and had moved from Baṣra to Egypt, where he was born and spent his life.”164 However, al- Dhahabī argues that Ibn Hishām was actually from Dhuhl.165 In any case, Kitāb al-Tījān fī mulūk Ḥimyar is extant and mentions several incidents 158 On Ibn Isḥāq’s circumstances as he wrote the Sīra, Lassner argues, “Presented by Ibn Isḥāq to the ᶜAbbāsid caliph, the biography provided historical evidence to legitimize ᶜAbbāsid claims by linking them and their age to the Prophet and the early community of Islam.” Lassner, Middle East, 314. See also Lassner, Islamic, 1–33, especially 16 n.32. 159 On Ibn Hishām, see al-Suhaylī, Rawḍ, 1:15; al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 15:281–282; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 10:428–429; Ibn Khallikān, Wafayāt, 3:177; al-Ṣafadī, Wāfī, 19:142; al-Ziriklī, Aᶜlām, 4:166; Kaḥḥāla, Muᶜjam, 6:192, where we read that Ibn Hishām was a contemporary of al-Shāfiᶜī and lived mostly in Egypt; Brockelmann, Ta’rīkh, 3:12–13 (on Ibn Hishām). 160 See van Ess, Theology, 3:18ff. For the initial cooperation between the ᶜAlids and the ᶜAbbāsids, especially in the revolution against the Umayyads, see al-Masᶜūdī, Murūj, 3:212ff.; al-Khuḍarī, al- Dawla al-ᶜabbāsiyya, 16ff.; Ḍayf, al-ᶜAṣr, 9–13; al-Dūrī, al-ᶜAṣr, 36–41. See Rifāᶜī, ᶜAṣr al-Ma’mūn, 1:82ff., where he explains that the ᶜAbbāsids and the ᶜAlids cooperated well together until the ᶜAbbāsids came to power. For the harsh treatment of the Caliph Hārūn to the ᶜAlids and the Shīᶜites, see al-Ṣadūq, ᶜUyūn, 1:108–112; al-Isfahānī, Maqātil, 387ff.; also al-Dūrī, al-ᶜAṣr, 110ff.; Bouvat, Les Barmécides, 55–59; al-Amīn, Kitāb aᶜyān al-shīᶜa, 1:24ff.; Abū Khalīl, Hārūn, 194ff.; al-Wurayyimī, Fī al-I’tilāf, 117ff., 146, 191ff.; Kennedy, Prophet, 141; Kennedy, Caliphate, 92–93. For distinguishing the ᶜAlids from the Shīᶜites, see Crone, Nativist Prophets, 109–115, 119ff., 192ff., 219ff., 495ff. 161 Rifāᶜī, ᶜAṣr al-Ma’mūn, 1:158; van Ess, Theology, 3:214ff.; Amīn, Ẓuhr, 721; Shukr, al-Zandaqa, 121–124; Hurvitz, Formation, ch. 7; Petersen, ᶜAlī, 73ff. 162 See al-Ziriklī, Aᶜlām, 4:166; Kaḥḥāla, Muᶜjam, 6:192; Brockelmann, Ta’rīkh, 3:12–13. 163 Al-Suhaylī, Rawḍ, 1:15. 164 See Montgomery Watt, “Ibn Hishām,” EI2, 3:800–801. 165 Al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 15:282; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 10:428–429. Like al-Dhahabī, Ibn Khallikān believes that Ibn Hishām is from Dhuhl, not Ḥimyar. Ibn Khallikān, Wafayāt, 3:177. On Ḥimyar and the Himyarites, see Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam al-buldān, 2:306–307.
128 Conversion to Islam of conversion to Islam not only after Muhammad’s advent but also before it, which is a unique feature that makes the meaning of Islam existent even before Muhammad.166 In analyzing conversion themes, I will examine Ibn Hishām’s Sīra and al-Tījān fī mulūk Ḥimyar.
Abū Muḥammad Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam al-Miṣrī (d. 214/829) Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam al-Miṣrī is not the well-known author of Kitāb futūḥ Miṣr, but his father. He was born in Alexandria, Egypt, in 155/771, and died in al-Fusṭāṭ in 214/829.167 During his career in Egypt, he was a respected jurist and a famous historian. As a jurist, he studied under the renowned jurists Mālik ibn Anas (d. 179/795) in Medina and ᶜAbd al-Razzāq al-Ṣanᶜānī (d. 211/827) in Mecca and was identified as “the most competent regarding Mālik’s traditions.”168 Having served under these major traditionists, it is unsurprising that he became a scholar of ḥadīth. As a historian, Ibn ᶜAbd al- Ḥakam was an expert on the life and deeds of the eighth Umayyad Caliph ᶜUmar ibn ᶜAbd al-ᶜAzīz (d. 101/720), about which he wrote a book.169 He was also the major source of narration for the historiographical book written by his son on the conquest of Egypt and North Africa. 166 See Ibn Hishām, Kitāb al-Tījān fī mulūk Ḥimyar, where he mentions a Ḥimyarite converting to Islam after ᶜAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib explained Islam to him (1:175), and another man accepting Islam after encountering Muhammad (1:219), in addition to conversion to Islam before the advent of Muhammad in the case of the preaching of the Prophet Hūd (1:340) and the people of ᶜĀd (1:351). On pre-Islamic believers and prophets, see Hawting, “Were There Prophets in the Jahiliyya?,” in Islam, ed. Bakhos and Cook, 186ff. The Kitāb al-Tījān is by Ibn Hishām as narrated by Abū Muḥammad ibn Hishām, from Asad ibn Mūsā, from Abū Idrīs ibn Sinān, from his grandfather Wahb ibn Munabbih. On this book, see Muṣṭafā, Ta’rīkh, 1:81, where he writes on the mythical nature of the book; see also a brief on this book and some translated sections in Jayyusi, Classical, 39–41, 56–69, and some general observations about the book on 4, 12, 16, 29. 167 Al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 15:220ff; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 10:220–223. On his life and works, see the study of Brockopp, Early, ch. 1; Brockopp, “Slavery,” 22ff. His father lived and died in Alexandria in 161/777. See al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 10:311. The father is usually referred to as Abū Muḥammad. See Rosenthal, “Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam,” EI2, 3:674–675. 168 Al-Shīrāzī, Ṭabaqāt al-fuqahā’, 1:151; al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 15:220–222. 169 Al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 15:220ff; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 10:220–223; Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī, Tahdhīb, 5:290; Brockopp, Early, ch. 1; also Brockopp, “Slavery,” 22. According to Brockopp, “ᶜAbdallāh b. ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam’s life can be divided into five periods, beginning with his birth and upbringing in Alexandria from 155/771 through 171/787, followed by a time of travel and advanced education until the death of Malik b. Anas in 179/795. ᶜAbdallāh b. ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam then married and settled in Fustat for a quiet life of scholarship until 198/814. The fourth period was marked by the arrival of al-Shāfiᶜī in Egypt; he stayed with ᶜAbdallāh b. ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam and may have brought him into the political arena. The final period in his life began with the deaths of al-Shāfiᶜī and al-Ashhab in 204/ 819, after which ᶜAbdallāh b. ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam was the most important living student of Mālik b. Anas in Egypt. He achieved great renown in these last ten years until his death in 214/829.” Brockopp, “Slavery,” 23.
Establishing Pro-ᶜ Abbāsid Orthodoxy 129 Religiously, Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam was an early proto-Sunnī jurist, with a significant leaning toward the Mālikī school of thought. Ibn Ḥajar, relying on various reports, states that Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam was not only a trusted and wise jurist but also a devotee to the school of Imam Mālik.170 In fact, al-Shīrāzī accuses Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam of exaggeration in Mālik’s madhhab (school) against Abū Ḥanīfa.171 Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam was not only influenced by Imam Mālik, but also by another major Sunnī scholar, al-Shāfiᶜī. We are told that Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam gave al-Shāfiᶜī 1,000 dinars and sought two other persons to give to the well-known jurist during his sojourn in Egypt.172 During the last decade of his life, he was the chief of the Mālikīs.173 This indicates that Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam favored traditionists and was an early supporter of ahl al-ḥadīth (the people of tradition) against Muᶜtazilism. Politically, Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam was reportedly close to the circle of influence in the Muslim court in Egypt, precisely the governor and the chief judge of Egypt; however, this did not seem to last long, as Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam was eventually imprisoned—presumably because of his support for traditionism—where he later died.174 Concerning Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam’s extant works, his most famous is Sīrat ᶜUmar ibn ᶜAbd al-ᶜAzīz, narrated on the authority of Imam Mālik. The work is extant in Arabic, having been published in Lebanon several times.175 Regarding Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam’s trustworthiness as a traditionist, views vary. According to al-Dhahabī, Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam was acknowledged as reliable by Abū Zurᶜā, al-ᶜIjlī, and Ibn Ḥibbān, particularly regarding Imam Mālik’s traditions.176 Ibn Abī Ḥātim al-Rāzī identifies Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam as thiqa (reliable), ṣadūq (honest and trusted), and the close narrator of Imam Mālik.177 However, as is the case with other classical Muslims, there are opposing views. Abū Isḥāq al-Jūzjānī (d. 259/872) dilutes the importance of Ibn 170 Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī, Tahdhīb, 5:289–290. 171 Al-Shīrāzī, Ṭabaqāt al-fuqahā’, 1:151. 172 Al-Shīrāzī, Ṭabaqāt, 1:151; al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 15:220ff.; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 10:220–223, where we are told he was buried next to al-Shāfiᶜī. According to van Ess, “it was Shāfiᶜī who first established the valid standards for the later Sunnī awareness.” Van Ess, Theology, 1:44; see also 2:818ff. on al-Shāfiᶜī in Egypt. 173 See al-Shīrāzī, Ṭabaqāt, 1:151; van Ess, Theology, 2:820; Brockopp, “Slavery,” 23. 174 Al-Kindī, Kitāb al-wulāh wa kitāb al-qudāh, 1:310–315; Brockopp, “Slavery,” 22ff. 175 There is another short work Mukhtaṣar; see Brockopp, “Slavery,” 22ff. Luke Yarbrough presents some reservations regarding the work’s reliability and authenticity. Yarbrough, “Did ᶜUmar b. ᶜAbd al-ᶜAzīz Issue an Edict Concerning Non-Muslim Officials?,” in Christians, ed. Borrut and Donner, 175–176. 176 Al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 10:220–223; al-ᶜIjlī, Ta’rīkh, 1:183, 266; Ibn Ḥibbān, Thiqāt, 8:100, 347. 177 Ibn Abī Ḥātim, Jarḥ, 5:105–106.
130 Conversion to Islam ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam’s traditions.178 Similarly, al-Dhahabī writes that Ibn Maᶜīn thought of Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam as a liar.179 The examination of Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam’s Sīrat ᶜUmar ibn ᶜAbd al-ᶜAzīz, particularly its accounts on conversion, is valuable to my investigation, especially when we consider the rich religious and political background of this author. He was reportedly influenced by early ḥadīth authorities, including Mālik, ᶜAbd al- Razzāq, and al-Shāfiᶜī. He was an active jurist and historian with proto-Sunnī views in the years immediately preceding the miḥna. He was also imprisoned and persecuted, presumably for his beliefs and support of ahl al-ḥadīth (traditionists), to the extent of losing most of his possessions.180 While his available reports on conversion are scarce, they are worth examining due to his religio-political involvement in the affairs of his day.
Conversion Themes under the Early ᶜAbbāsids (ca. 133/750–218/833) In this section, I examine the accounts of the abovementioned historians who wrote under the early ᶜAbbāsids. The goal is to study conversion narratives in order to trace their repeated themes and how they adjust to fit the historians’ views. As I have explained, conversion themes can be grouped into four literary topoi: supremacy, significance, affirmation, and compromise. The following subsections will use these topoi as headings.
Conversion of Jews and Christians: Islam’s Supremacy or Insincere Devotion? Classical Muslim historians repeatedly describe ahl al-kitāb (Jews and Christians) converting to Islam. This aims at stressing Islam’s supremacy and hegemony and emphasizing how it surpassed and replaced previous revelations. These themes thus fit within my designation of topoi of supremacy.181 178 Al-Jūzjānī, Aḥwāl, 1:173. 179 Al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 10:220–223. 180 See Rosenthal, “Ibn ᶜAbd al- Ḥakam,” EI2, 3:674; van Ess, Theology, 3:513ff.; Jadᶜān, al-Miḥna, 55ff. 181 Fred Donner studies historiographical themes and states, “the themes of the Islamic origins narratives address four basic issues, which we shall designate prophecy, community, hegemony, and leadership.” Donner, Narratives, 144. The topoi of supremacy, as I define them, are close in
Establishing Pro-ᶜ Abbāsid Orthodoxy 131 While their precursors are present in Umayyad-era accounts, they occur more frequently in the period under study (ca. 133/ 750– 218/ 833).182 One reason for the higher frequency is that, during this period, Muslims attempted to establish a distinct image of themselves as a unique community among other existing faiths in the conquered lands.183 Though they ruled these lands, Muslims were still the minority.184 The creation of a Muslim identity had been developing to some extent during the Umayyads, but it is during this period that the Islamic identity coalesced around Muhammad’s uniqueness and the Qur’ān’s exceptionality, thus advancing Islam’s superiority.185 This is evidenced by the tremendous growth of historical writing and the keen interest of Muslims in documenting Muhammad’s prophetic traditions.186 Through their historical writing, Muslim historians created a religiously colored history, emphasizing Allah at play in the formation of the community of Muhammad. By initiating numerous ḥadīth traditions, they affirmed the prophethood of Muhammad and emphasized his unmatched qualities against charges of followers of other religions. Essentially, Muslim historians began as ḥadīth scholars.187 Their writings sought to project meaning to the themes of hegemony as explained by Donner. Noth identifies various topoi, none of which studies Islamic hegemony and supremacy; however, his examination of topoi serving “to Glorify Former Times,” particularly his “Summons to Islam” theme, is helpful. Noth/Conrad, Early, 146–165. 182 See Chapter 2, particularly the Conclusion and the section titled “Topoi of Supremacy,” where I suggested some reasons for the less-frequent incidents related to Christians and Jews converting to Islam in Umayyad-era accounts. We traced the conversion of ahl al-kitāb in Umayyad-era reports by al-Zuhrī and Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba. See, for instances, Zuhrī 53; Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 65, 213, 297–298. On these literary forms, see Donner, Narratives, 147ff. 183 See the arguments of Donner, “From Believers,” 9–53; Donner, Muhammad and the Believers. Donner argues that early Islam began as an ecumenical movement, a community of Believers, not “Muslims” as we understand the term today. However compelling Donner’s thesis may sound to some, various scholars are skeptical of it. See the critical observations of Tannous, “Review,” 126–141; also Sinai, “Unknown Known,” 49ff. See also Patricia Crone’s online article, “Among the Believers,” posted on August 10, 2010, at tabletmag.com, where she provides a critical evaluation of Donner’s thesis. 184 Conversion to Islam was slow in the first three centuries of Islam. See Bulliet, Conversion, 109, where he argues that the peak of conversion was somewhere within 150/767–300/912, and that the “great wave of conversion” occurred in the late eighth and ninth centuries. See also Sahner, Christian, 224. 185 I am very grateful for an exchange I had with Professor Fred Donner, in which he helped me tremendously as I thought through this project. This paragraph in particular is a result of my correspondence with him. 186 Robinson, Historiography, 39. According to al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 9:13, historical writing began in Mecca, Medina, Syria, Baṣra, Yemen, and Kūfa, as early as 143/760, during the caliphate of al- Manṣūr. This was the same year that Ibn Isḥāq began writing his Sīra. Al-Dhahabī concludes that in these days, kathur tadwīn al-ᶜilm wa tabwībih (the writing down and the classifying of the knowledge grew rapidly). See also al-Suyūṭī, Ta’rīkh al-khulafā’, 194; Amīn, Ḍuḥā, 2:319–360. 187 See al-Dūrī, Rise, 27ff., where he argues that the early writers of the maghāzī were known as muḥaddithūn (scholars of ḥadīth).
132 Conversion to Islam the distinct Islamic identity back to the very beginnings of Islam’s origins. Against this backdrop, conversion themes emerged and developed. In particular, the theme of ahl al-kitab (Jews and Christians) converting to Islam was employed to establish a significantly distinct Islamic identity, retrojecting it into seventh-century Arabia. Portraying Jews and Christians as abandoning their respective faiths to embrace Islam highlights the newly born faith as superior and more persuasive. As has been argued repeatedly in this study, conversion themes are well calculated to appeal to the political and religious requirements of the historian’s day. In some instances, moreover, Muslim historians use these themes to serve more than one purpose, including polemic rhetoric against Jews or fellow Muslims, as will be explained in that which follows. In his Kitāb al-ridda wa-l-futūḥ, Sayf ibn ᶜUmar (d. 180/796) records a contentious report of conversion to Islam. It concerns a Yemeni Jew from Ṣanᶜā’ named ᶜAbdullāh ibn Saba’ who accepted Islam during ᶜUthmān’s caliphate.188 As explained in the previous section, both Sayf and Ibn Saba’ are controversial figures.189 Sayf is better viewed as a pro-ᶜAbbāsid historian writing under Hārūn al-Rashīd’s patronage with an anti-Shīᶜite, pro-ᶜUthmānī, and early Sunnite tendentious agenda.190 He uses the conversion of Ibn Saba’ to advance his attacks against shīᶜat ᶜAlī and to justify ᶜUthmān.191 According to Sayf, ᶜAbdullāh ibn Saba’ falsely converted to Islam for the purpose of spreading lies among Muslims in the amṣār (provinces, settlements in conquered lands, frontier outposts): These lies went so far as to claim the imminent return of Muhammad.192 Sayf blames Ibn 188 His book is mentioned by Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 94. Sayf ibn ᶜUmar, Kitāb al-ridda, 1:139–140, 1:57–58. For the entire list of mentions of Ibn Saba’, see 57, 73, 94, 105, 119, 121, 126, 139, 141, 162, 317, 318, 319, 327. 189 See earlier in this chapter. On Sayf as muḥaddith (traditionist), see al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 11:161– 162; Yaḥyā ibn Maᶜīn, Ta’rīkh, 3:459; Ibn Abī Ḥātim, Jarḥ, 4:278, 8:479; Dāraquṭnī, Ḍuᶜafā’, 2:157; Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī, Tahdhīb, 4:295, 296; al-Samᶜānī, Ansāb, 1:254, 5:316. See also al-Ziriklī, Aᶜlām, 3:150; Kaḥḥāla, Muᶜjam, 4:288. 190 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 118. Madelung, Succession, 1; Crone, “Review,” 237– 240; Robinson, Historiography, 36; Noth/Conrad, Early, 8. 191 By using the term shīᶜat ᶜAlī, I contend that, in the early period of Islam the term Shīᶜite was more of a political description of the advocates of ᶜAlī. Sayf, however, assigns doctrinal teaching advanced by Ibn Saba’, but as Petersen observes, “the sectarian teachings ascribed to [Ibn Saba’] have hardly anything in common with the earliest shīᶜat ᶜAlī as we know it from the genuine sources.” Petersen, ᶜAlī, 79. The term shīᶜa in general refers to the party or faction of supporters of someone. We also read of shīᶜat Muᶜāwiya. See Ibn Yūnus al-Miṣrī, Ta’rīkh, 1:63; al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 5:368, 26:207; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 16:125; Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 10:144–145; Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī, Iṣāba, 1:422, 4:303; Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī, Tahdhīb, 1:435; al-Dāwūdī, Tabaqāt al-mufassirīn, 1:206. 192 Sayf ibn ᶜUmar, Kitāb al-ridda, 1:140, 141. On how Ibn Saba’ toured the lands creating mischief and how only the Syrians were not deceived by his talks, see 92, 139.
Establishing Pro-ᶜ Abbāsid Orthodoxy 133 Saba’ and his Shīᶜite Saba’iyya for the murder of ᶜUthmān, as Ibn Saba’, after converting from Judaism to Islam, was reportedly “the first to send forth preachers among the people (in rebellion against ᶜUthmān).”193 Sayf employs the conversion report of Ibn Saba’ not only to attack the ᶜAlids but also to justify ᶜUthmān. According to Sayf, Ibn Saba’, after conversion, lied and falsely labeled ᶜUthmān as an unjust man who disobeyed Muhammad’s command by stepping over ᶜAlī.194 Sayf praises ᶜUthmān frequently and describes the life and deeds of the third caliph differently.195 For Sayf, the fitna and murder of ᶜUthmān were only a result of the role Ibn Saba’ played through his extreme Shīᶜite Saba’iyya.196 Thus, Sayf ’s accounts are not only anti-Shīᶜite and pro-ᶜUthman but also harshly against the Saba’iyya.197 Conversion to Islam in Sayf ’s accounts should be analyzed and evaluated against the backdrop of the book’s overall probable agenda. While the theme focuses on the inauthentic conversion of Ibn Saba’, its range extends beyond the conversion report, as the literary incident touches his identity as a Jew, his political tendency as a supporter of ᶜUthmān, and his anti- ᶜAlid inclinations. All of these features are essential to the overall drama portrayed by Sayf ibn ᶜUmar.198 The narrative of Ibn Saba’ seems to have initially emerged in Sayf ibn ᶜUmar’s accounts; however, comparing later accounts reveals various developments in the depiction of Ibn Saba’, which
193 Sayf ibn ᶜUmar, Kitāb al-ridda, 1:57–58. The Saba’iyya preaching of Ibn Saba’, according to Sayf, included the assertion that every nabī (prophet) has a waṣī (executor), and Muhammad’s waṣī was ᶜAlī—if Muhammad was khātam al-anbiyā’ (the seal of the prophets), then ᶜAlī was khātam al- awṣiyā’ (the seal of the executors). Petersen argues that Sayf wanted to show that ᶜUthmān’s murder was due to the rapid advancement of a proto-Shīᶜite sect, Saba’iyya. Petersen, ᶜAlī, 78. On the term “seal of the prophets,” see Hartmut Bobzin, “The ‘Seal of the Prophets’: Towards an Understanding of Muhammad’s Prophethood,” in Qur’ān, ed. Neuwirth et al., 565ff. 194 Sayf ibn ᶜUmar, Kitāb al-ridda, 1:140. 195 See Sayf ibn ᶜUmar, Kitāb al-ridda, 1:14, 124, 128, 141, 149ff., where he depicts ᶜUthmān as a pious leader who has never innovated and always imitated and also a merciful caliph who was betrayed by some fabricated unjust reports advanced by the Shīᶜite sect, Saba’iyya. Moreover, according to Sayf, ᶜUthmān’s collecting the Qur’ānic text and burning of the maṣāḥif (Qur’ān codices) were justified to the extent that ᶜAlī himself stated that he would have done the same. See Sayf ibn ᶜUmar, Kitāb al-ridda, 1:53–54; also Crone, “Review,” 237–240. 196 See the valuable explanation on Ibn Saba’ as the chief source of ᶜUthmān’s murder in Petersen, ᶜAlī, 119. See also Riḍā, Rasā’il al-sunna wa-l-shīᶜa, 4ff. 197 Sayf ibn ᶜUmar, Kitāb al-ridda, 1:131–134. On Saba’iyya, see Friedman, Nuṣayrī-ᶜAlawīs, 177– 178. See also Anthony, “Caliph,” ch. 1; Anthony, Caliph, 1–3. Anthony defines the Saba’īyya as “a sect traditionally classified by medieval heresiographers, across the sectarian divide, as the original and earliest archetype of extremist Shīᶜism and occasionally as the very fount of Sh’īite belief itself.” Anthony, “Caliph,” 1. Crone writes, “Though Sayf is keen to exonerate ᶜUthmān, he has no desire to present ᶜAlī in an unfavourable light.” Crone, “Review,” 237–240. 198 Donner, Narrative, 144.
134 Conversion to Islam explains that the memory of this individual and his conversion to Islam was reinterpreted and revised.199 Later writers added literary features to the narrative of this so-called heretic.200 We know from Sayf that Ibn Saba’ attempted to deceive the Muslims after his conversion by spreading false reports; however, there are no precise details regarding these reports. He is mainly reported to have praised ᶜAlī as abṣar al-nās bi-kitāb Allāh (the most knowledgeable of the Book of Allah), and stated that Muhammad aḥaqq bi-l-rujūᶜ (is better deserving of the return [to earth]) than Jesus.201 This portrayal was later expanded in other writings. Al-Muṭahhar al-Maqdisī (d. 355/966) writes that Ibn Saba’ and his followers attributed divinity to ᶜAlī, insisting he would never die.202 According to al- Samᶜānī (d. 562/1166), Ibn Saba’ stated that ᶜAlī was coming back—a report never mentioned by Sayf. While Sayf never mentioned such accounts regarding Ibn Saba’, the development of the narrative of Ibn Saba’ by later authors required sharper claims to justify charges of heresy. The portrayal of Ibn Saba’ is modified to criticize Shīᶜism by establishing unreasonable claims. In other words, as Shīᶜism developed over time, the picture of Ibn Saba’ required more emphasis on his heretical claims to justify accusing him—and Shīᶜism in turn—of creating confusion among Muslims.203 It appears that religious and political measures of the day required such additions to the initial narrative advanced by Sayf.204 On the shīᶜī side of the narrative, the matter is similar. Various classical Shīᶜite authorities—perhaps in response to accusations against Shīᶜism— criticize Ibn Saba’ harshly, distancing Shīᶜism from the heretic. Imam al-Ṭūsī 199 Savant, New Muslims, ch. 1; for the core story of Ibn Saba’, see Ṭabarī, Ta’rīkh, 2942; Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 29:3–4, which reflects the same report found in Sayf ibn ᶜUmar’s Kitāb al-ridda. 200 For Ibn Saba’ as a heretic, see Anthony, “Caliph,” ch. 1; Friedman, Nuṣayrī-ᶜAlawīs, 177–178. 201 The quotes are from Sayf ibn ᶜUmar, Kitāb al-ridda, 1:147 and 1:48, respectively. 202 Al-Maqdisī, al-Bad’ wa-l-ta’rīkh, 5:125, 129; see also Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī, Lisān, 3:289; on the Saba’iyya, see al-Shahrastānī, Kitāb al-milal wa-l-niḥal, 1:174. When subsequent Muslim authors needed, for instance, a more intense anti-Shīᶜite rhetoric to suit the requirements of their day, they interpolated additional elements, including the claims of the deity of ᶜAlī, to place the Shīᶜites in a bad light. The narrative serves the religious and sociopolitical goals of the writer, rather than explicitly depicting Ibn Saba’ and his conversion. 203 Al-Samᶜānī, Ansāb, 3:293 (ᶜAlī is going to return to earth, yarjiᶜ ilā al-dunyā). 204 The renowned Ibn Taymiyya argues against Shīᶜism in his Minhāj al-sunna al-nabawiyya, where he identifies Ibn Saba’ as a shīᶜī (3:459), and a leader (Shaikh) of al-rāfiḍa (the shīᶜī rejecters) who faked his conversion to ruin Islam, as Paul did with Christianity (8:479). Ibn Taymiyya also equates Shīᶜism to Judaism and Christianity in various ways (1:23, 30), affirming that Ibn Saba’ and his followers claimed ᶜAlī’s infallibility, divinity, or prophethood (2:61). Furthermore, their group, the Saba’iyya, according to Ibn Taymiyya, claims ᶜAlī never died and that he will return before the Resurrection Day to fill the earth with justice (2:510). See also Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyya, al-Ṣawāᶜiq al-mursala, 4:1405; Friedman, Nuşayrī-ᶜAlawīs, 198.
Establishing Pro-ᶜ Abbāsid Orthodoxy 135 (d. 460/1068) observes that Ibn Saba’ used to be one of ᶜAlī’s narrators, but rajaᶜ ilā al-kufr wa aẓhar al-ghuluw (he returned to unbelief and followed extremism).205 The narrative evolves even further: For al-Ṭūsī, Ibn Saba’ falsely claimed to be a prophet and wrongly attributed divinity to ᶜAlī, which led ᶜAlī to summon him and eventually order his burning.206 Like al-Ṭūsī, Ibn al-Muṭahhar al-Ḥillī (d. 726/1325) states that Ibn Saba’ is cursed, as he claimed prophethood and said ᶜAlī was Allah, which led ᶜAlī to burn him.207 The reports of al-Ṭūsī and al-Ḥillī seem to serve as a Shīᶜite apologetic rhetoric to disassociate Shīᶜism completely from Ibn Saba’ and his portrayed narrative, which began with Sayf ibn ᶜUmar and developed over time by anti- Shīᶜite authors.208 The conversion of the Jew Ibn Saba’, as depicted by Sayf, highlights an important development of the theme of conversion of ahl al-kitāb (Christians and Jews) in works written under the ᶜAbbāsids. In Umayyad-era accounts, as examined in Chapter 2, writers repeatedly referred to Jews converting to Islam and used such literary incidents as evidence for the hegemony of Islam.209 Sayf ’s account is different. He uses the conversion of a Jew as a polemical device against Shīᶜism, particularly its prototype the so-called Saba’iyya, which Sayf blames for the murder of ᶜUthmān. Conversion of Jews, in Sayf ’s accounts, is characterized as insincere acceptance of the faith, which fits topoi of compromise rather than supremacy. Sayf tweaked the theme to serve his overall pro-ᶜAbbāsid and anti-Shīᶜite purposes. He portrays Jews converting to Islam insincerely, as they aim to compromise Islam by spreading the proto-Shīᶜism Saba’iyya. He is not concerned with depicting the superiority of Islam, but rather with attacking Shīᶜism. This fits quite well with Sayf ’s agenda, as he served the ᶜAbbāsids, particularly Hārūn al-Rashīd, in disassociating the rulers from shīᶜat ᶜAlī (the supporters of ᶜAlī).210 205 Al-Ṭūsī, Ikhtiyār, 75 (entry # 718). 206 Al-Ṭūsī, Ikhtiyār, 102 (section 47), where he explains that Ibn Saba’ claimed prophecy and claimed ᶜAlī was Allah. ᶜAlī then summoned him and asked him, and Ibn Saba’ admitted that ᶜAli was Allah and that Ibn Saba’ himself was a prophet. ᶜAlī then burned him. On these extreme claims by Ibn Saba’, see Moosa, Extremist Shiites, xiii–xxiii. 207 Ibn al-Muṭahhar al-Ḥillī, Khulāṣat al-aqwāl, 1:273. 208 For a contemporary Shīᶜite perspective on Saba’iyya and Ibn Saba’, see al-ᶜAskarī, ᶜAbdullāh ibn Saba’ wa asāṭīr ukhrā, 359ff. 209 See, for instance, Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 213, where he used “conversion of the Jews” to reflect the supremacy of Islam. Therefore, I included conversion of Jews as a literary theme in precursors of literary topoi of supremacy—a reoccurring literary structure that depicts Islam’s superiority over Judaism. See the conclusion of Chapter 2. 210 See Petersen, ᶜAlī, 83, where he states that Sayf ibn ᶜUmar’s “historical writing very likely furnished the clearest picture of the Abbasids’ showdown with Shīᶜism.”
136 Conversion to Islam But Sayf ibn ᶜUmar is not alone in his portrayal of Jews compromising Islam with their fake conversions. A few decades after Sayf, al-Wāqidī (d. ca. 207/823) writes of a hypocrite Jew, Zayd ibn al-Luṣayt of Banū Qaynuqāᶜ, who accepted Islam but was deceitful.211 His conversion was reportedly inauthentic because he was one of ahl al-nifāq (the people of hypocrisy), who mocked and questioned Muhammad’s prophethood.212 Here, al-Wāqidī, like Sayf, depicts Jews converting to Islam insincerely; unlike Sayf, he uses their conversion as a polemic device against the Jews by portraying them as deceitful. The strong criticism of Shīᶜism which we find in Sayf ’s work is replaced by an emphasis on the insincerity of Jews in their conversion.213 This fits al-Wāqidī’s overall possible Shīᶜite sympathies214 and reflects fake conversion, which I categorize within topoi of compromise. Additionally, al-Wāqidī writes of another case of compromised conversion, in which a Jew named Simāk converted after the Battle of Khaybar to save himself and his wife.215 Conversion to spare one’s life does not indicate sincere conviction, but rather a compromised position for insincere motives. Thus, in several reports, al-Wāqidī portrays Jews negatively, as munāfiqūn (hypocrites) who are less genuine in their faith.216 The theme revolves to achieve varying results. Nevertheless, al-Wāqidī also uses conversion of some Jews and Christians to advance the supremacy of Islam, which follows the pattern we encountered in some writings under the Umayyads. He writes of two Jews, a rabbi and a slave, who accepted Islam. Ubayy ibn Kaᶜb (d. 21/641) was one of the Jewish aḥbār (rabbis) of the Khazraj of Banū al-Najjār, an anṣārī companion,
211 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 3:1010, where he depicts Zayd as having khubth al-yahūd wa ghishshuhum (the malice and deceit of the Jews). 212 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 3:1010. Zayd doubted Muhammad’s prophethood when Muhammad did not know where to find a lost camel. “Is not Muhammad claiming he is a prophet who receives khabar al-samā’ (report from heaven)?” Al-Wāqidī states that Muhammad knew there was a hypocrite among the companions and called him out. Zayd declared that he doubted Muhammad until that day. For more on Zayd, see al-Suhaylī, Rawḍ, 7:384, 392; Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 2:373, where some claim Zayd repented, while others claim he never did. 213 Petersen concludes, “On the whole, Wāqidī’s rendering represents a noticeable shift as compared with his predecessors; the strongly anti-Shīᶜite attitude [like Sayf ’s] is replaced by a positive evaluation of ᶜAlī and only the denunciation of the Umayyads continues unabated.” Petersen, ᶜAlī, 86. 214 Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 98; al-Ṭūsī, Fihrist, 3; Brockelmann, Ta’rīkh, 3:16; Petersen, ᶜAlī, 92 and 88, where Petersen explains that al-Ma’mūn is relatively pro-ᶜAlī, which influenced al-Wāqidī in favoring ᶜAlī to strive to follow the standpoint of the caliph (88). 215 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:646–648. 216 The term munāfiqūn is better articulated as “lukewarm Believers” or “uncommitted Muslims” rather than simply “hypocrites.” Fred Donner uses it this way in his Early Islamic Conquests, 68; Donner, Muhammad, 43, 59, 160, 161; also Cook, Understanding, 8, 138.
Establishing Pro-ᶜ Abbāsid Orthodoxy 137 who was knowledgeable in pre-Islamic sources.217 According to al-Wāqidī, Ubayy abandoned Judaism, converted to Islam, and became one of the writers of the Qur’ānic revelations, participating in all of Muhammad’s raids and supporting ᶜUthmān in collecting the Qur’ān.218 In Ubayy’s narrative, Islam is depicted as superior to Judaism, as it persuades even the knowledgeable Jewish rabbis. Also, al-Wāqidī reports on a Jewish slave, Jabr of Banū ᶜAbd al-Dār, who heard Muhammad reciting the Qur’ān before the hijra, felt peace, and then converted.219 Jabr’s narrative reflects a reoccurring emphasis on Islam’s supremacy over Judaism and a notion of the captivating power of the Qur’ān, as well as a demonstration of Islam’s significance in crossing social boundaries to embrace slaves. Here, the power of the Qur’ān fits within conversion topoi of affirmation, while slave conversion reflects topoi of significance. Moreover, al-Wāqidī reports on Jewish women accepting Islam. This reflects how Islam reaches believers in Judaism and captivates the hearts of the socially unprivileged, including women. Al-Wāqidī writes of two Jewish women accepting Islam: Rayḥāna bint Zayd of Banū Qurayẓa and Ṣafiyya bint Ḥuyayy of Banū al-Naḍīr. Both, upon conversion, became the Prophet’s wives.220 While Jews accepting Islam is a reoccurring theme which 217 Al-Wāqidī, Kitāb al-ridda wa futūḥ al-ᶜIrāq, 44. On Kitāb al-ridda wa futūḥ al-ᶜIrāq, see Ibn al- Nadīm, Fihrist, 98–99; Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam, 6:2598; al-Ṣafadī, Wāfī, 4:169. For more on Ubayy ibn Kaᶜb, see Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ta’rīkh, 1:167; Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ṭabaqāt, 1:157; Ibn Qutayba al-Dīnawarī, Maᶜārif, 1:261; al-ᶜIjlī, Thiqāt, 1:234; Ibn Ḥibbān, Thiqāt, 1:205, 3:5 (on him writing the Qur’ān for Muhammad and various possibilities for his death date); Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, Istīᶜāb, 1:65–69; Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 1:168 (disputes on his death year); al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 1:389–402 (one of four anṣārī people collected the Qur’ān for Muhammad, called by many sayyid al-Muslmīn). Note that Ubayy ibn Kaᶜb is not Kaᶜb al-Aḥbār, for whom, see M. Schmitz, “Kaᶜb al-Aḥbār,” EI2, 4:316–317, where he defines the term ḥibr (pl. aḥbār) as “a scholarly title immediately below rabbi,” which “is presumed to be equivalent to the Arabic ᶜālim.” On the meaning of ḥabr, see also al-Khawārizmī, Mafātīḥ al-ᶜulūm, 53. See “ḥibr,” in Ibn Manẓūr, Lisān al-ᶜarab, 4:157–158, where ḥibr is ᶜālim (a scholar) and can be ḥibr or ḥabr. See also al-Rāzī, Mukhtār al-Ṣaḥḥāḥ, 65; al-Fīrūzābādī, al-Qāmūs al-muḥīṭ, 370, where ḥabr is preferred over ḥibr and means a scholar or pious man. 218 Al-Wāqidī, Kitāb al-ridda wa futūḥ al-ᶜIrāq, 44. 219 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:865. The supremacy of Islam over Judaism, among Muslim jurists, is evidenced by the regulations placed on the converts to Islam. According to Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam al- Miṣrī (d. 214/829), when converts from Jewish or Christian backgrounds leave their home to join the Muslims, the converts have the rights and responsibilities of the Muslims; however, converts must give their homes and lands as fay’ for the Muslims. Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam al-Miṣrī, Sīrat ᶜUmar ibn ᶜAbd al-ᶜAzīz, 1:83–84. For the meaning of fay’, see Yaḥyā ibn Ādam, Kitāb al-kharāj, 58–61, 82; Ibn Sallām al-Khuzāᶜī, Kitāb al-amwāl, 87–96, 132–145, 301–311; as for comparing ghanīma and fay’, see 342– 349. See also Ibn Zanjawayh, Kitāb al-amwāl, 477ff.; Ibn Qudāma, Mughnī, 6:453ff.; Kister, “Land,” 273. See also Ibrahim, Stated, 71–72. 220 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:520 (Rayḥāna) and 2:709 (Ṣafiyya). It should be noted that Rayḥāna and Ṣafiyya were reluctant to accept Islam. Al-Wāqidī’s reports about Rayḥāna’s reluctance are clearer than those of Ṣafiyya’s. On the two women, see Zubayr ibn Bakkār, al-Muntakhab min azwāj al-nabī, 47–48 (Rayḥāna), 49 (Ṣafiyya); al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 1:597–598 (Rayḥāna) and 1:593, 2:421 (Ṣafiyya). For secondary studies, see ᶜĀ’isha ᶜAbd al-Raḥmān, Nisā’ al-nabī, 11–12 (Rayḥāna), 165–175
138 Conversion to Islam I categorize in topoi of supremacy, the description of women accepting Islam demonstrates how Islam overcomes social barriers and fits in topoi of significance.221 The reports of the conversions of Rayḥāna and Ṣafiyya reflect conversion topoi of supremacy and significance. Christians, like Jews, accept Islam in al-Wāqidī’s accounts: The Prophet’s companion ᶜAbd al-Raḥmān reportedly marched to Dūmat al-Jandal and summoned them to Islam; after their initial refusal, they accepted Islam, following their chief, al-Aṣbagh ibn ᶜAmr, who converted from Christianity.222 This narrative includes at least three aspects: Christian conversion, collective conversion, and conversion to save one’s life. These aspects tackle topoi of supremacy and compromise. Like al-Wāqidī, Hishām ibn al-Kalbī (d. 204/819) reports twice of Christians accepting Islam. He states that they were naṣārā until Islam appeared and they converted.223 Ibn al-Kalbī’s reports show Islam victorious. Therefore, the theme of Christians and Jews converting to Islam in historiographical accounts can serve the Muslim writer in advancing various goals. The theme can be categorized not only in conversion topoi of Islam’s supremacy but also in topoi of significance, affirmation, and compromise. It is a rich theme. While it has a fairly comparable content, its broad range can serve several purposes.
(Ṣafiyya), where she does not consider Rayḥāna one of the Mothers of the Believers; al-Jamīlī, Nisā’ al-nabī, 115–116, who does not consider Rayḥāna at all. On how classical Muslims disliked Rayḥāna, see Yitzhak, “Muhammad’s Jewish Wives,” 1–14. For Muhammad’s wives in general, see Barbara Stowasser, “Wives of the Prophet,” EQ, 4:506–521; Musᶜad, Wives; Lings, Muhammad, 233 (Rayḥāna) and 268ff., 277 (Ṣafiyya); Haykal, Ḥayāt, 326–336, 350, 358. For a feminist treatment of Muhammad’s wives, see Mernissi, Women, 115–140. The narrative of Ṣafiyya’s conversion is reported by Khalīfa, yet more concisely. Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ta’rīkh, 1:83. For a recent secondary study on these two women, see Awde, Women, 10, 58–59, 85–90 (Ṣafiyya) and 10 (Rayḥāna), yet the author treats her as one of two concubines. See also al-Ruṣāfī, Kitāb al-shakhṣiyya al-Muḥammadiyya, 416ff.; al-ᶜUmarī, al-Risāla wa-l-rasūl, 95–110. 221 For specifics on the different conversion themes, see Chapter 1. A similar account of Rayḥāna bint Zayd is mentioned by Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 2:245. She initially refused to convert to Islam, which prevented Muhammad from marrying her, leaving her as merely a concubine. However, later she converted. Since I mention her narrative here with al-Wāqidī, I will not repeat it later, as no specific literary features differ between the accounts. In her conversion narrative, we encounter initial rejection of conversion, compromised conversion, and the significance of women accepting Islam, especially among the Jews. Thus, one narrative of conversion serves topoi of compromise and significance. 222 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:561. Noth identifies “Summons to Islam” as a literary theme in historical works. Noth/Conrad, Early, 146–165. Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 2:589, refers to “summoning” Christians and Jews to Islam. 223 Ibn al-Kalbī, Kitāb al-aṣnām, 1:61; Ibn al-Kalbī, Nasab Maᶜadd wa-l-Yaman al-kabīr, 2:566. On Naṣārā, see J. M. Fiey, “Naṣārā,” EI2, 7:970–973; M. Sharon, “People of the Book,” EQ, 4:36–43.
Establishing Pro-ᶜ Abbāsid Orthodoxy 139 Like al-Wāqidī, Ibn al-Kalbī, and Sayf ibn ᶜUmar, Ibn Hishām emphasizes the theme of Jews and Christians converting to Islam. He reports on the conversion of three of the aḥbār of the Jews: Mukhayriq, Zayd ibn al-Luṣayt of Banū Qaynuqāᶜ, and ᶜAbdullāh ibn Salām.224 While the conversion of the three rabbis chiefly displays Islam’s supremacy over Judaism, the literary features of ᶜAbdullāh ibn Salām’s conversion are plenty and enrich the content and range of the conversion theme.225 It merits a special examination. Ibn Hishām describes ᶜAbdullāh ibn Salām’s conversion as taking place after the rabbi realized Muhammad’s prophethood. This literary element— in addition to asserting Islam’s supremacy—fits within topoi of affirmation, as a rabbi converts to Islam after meeting Muhammad. ᶜAbdullāh, however, initially kept his faith secret and was later forced to reveal his faith to his aunt Khālida when Muhammad visited their city. When his aunt questioned him, ᶜAbdullāh told her that Muhammad was the brother of Moses, foretold in scripture and sent from Allah with the same message. Consequently, Khālida converted to Islam, and he went to his people wa amarahum f-aslamū (and ordered them and they converted).226 Later, Ibn Hishām reports that some Jews persecuted ᶜAbdullāh ibn Salām, labeling him one of their “evil” ones.227 This narrative is rich with features, and goes beyond the incident of a Jew converting to Islam. It covers various themes, including conversion after meeting Muhammad, secret conversion, conversion of women, conversion after preaching Islam to family members, conversion followed by persecution, and collective conversion.228 Each of these themes fulfills specific goals and fits a topoi pattern. We can highlight topoi of supremacy in a Jew converting to Islam, topoi of compromise in collective conversion
224 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:514 (for Mukhayriq), 1:515 (for Zayd), and 1:517 (for ᶜAbdullāh ibn Salām). Zayd is also mentioned earlier in al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 3:1010. On Mukhayriq, see Stillman, Jews, 121. The narrative of ᶜAbdullāh ibn Salām’s conversion is reported by Khalīfa, yet with fewer details. Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ta’rīkh, 1:56. 225 For more on the focus, content, and range of literary themes, see Donner, Narratives, 144. 226 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:516–517. For more on ᶜAbdullāh ibn Salām, see Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ta’rīkh, 1:56; al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 2:32–34; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 2:413–425; Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, Istīᶜāb, 4:1817; Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 29:109; Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 7:80 (on Khālida). 227 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:557. 228 The narrative of the Jew ᶜAbdullāh ibn Salām is echoed in the narrative of Abū Qays ibn Abī Anas, a monk who used to worship the God of Abraham in pre-Islamic times, until Muhammad came to Medina, at which time the monk converted to Islam. Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:510. Ibn Hishām also reports on collective conversion of Christians. Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:391–392, 1:574–575, which will be discussed shortly in the theme of conversion after encountering Muhammad, as well as genuine vs. inauthentic conversions. For a short study on collective conversion and what it means, see Richard Bulliet, “Conversion,” in Princeton Encyclopedia, ed. Böwering et al., 119. On persecution of converts in the Meccan period, see Gibb, Mohammedanism, 42.
140 Conversion to Islam and conversion in secrecy, topoi of significance in women’s conversion and persecution following conversion, and topoi of affirmation of Islam in the way family members proclaim it successfully. While ᶜAbdullāh ibn Salām’s conversion narrative is undoubtedly centered on Islam’s supremacy over Judaism, it also discourages secrecy regarding conversion, praises persecution due to conversion, exhorts women’s conversion, and affirms the acceptance of Islam as a family. Furthermore, Ibn Hishām, like Sayf and al- Wāqidī before him, emphasizes the hypocrisy of some Jews and Christians in their conversion. He lists various names of man aslam min aḥbār al-yahūd nifāqan (rabbis who converted to Islam hypocritically), as they sought power and support.229 He also observes that only two men of the Jewish tribe Banū al-Naḍīr accepted Islam, specifically because they wanted to save their possessions.230 Moreover, the Jews of Banū Hudal accepted Islam only after they witnessed the massacre against the men of Banū Qurayẓa.231 Christians, like Jews, accepted Islam hypocritically. Ibn Hishām writes of Thumāma ibn Uthāl, a Christian of Banū Ḥanīfa and chief of Yamāma, who converted to Islam after Muhammad took him captive.232 Thumāma’s account describes a compromised conversion. Ibn Hisham also reports on a Christian group who accepted Islam collectively after their chief convinced them, yet later all except the chief reverted to Christianity.233 These narratives portray insincere conversions faked by Jews and Christians in order to obtain power, save one’s possessions, or spare one’s life. They serve as polemical tools against the Jews and Christians, which serves the authorial intent during the time of writing. Moreover, Ibn Hishām reports the rejection of Islam by Jews and Christians: A Jew of Banū Qaynuqāᶜ and a Jewish rabbi named Finḥāṣ refused Islam, while Waraqa ibn Nawfal also rejected Islam and insisted 229 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:527. 230 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 2:192. 231 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 2:238, where Banū Hudal are more honorable than those of Qurayẓa and Naḍīr. The incident of Banū Quraẓa is referred to in secondary studies as annihilation, butchery, or massacre. For “annihilation,” see Ramadan, Understanding, 78; for “butchery,” see Djait, al-Fitna, 28; for “massacre,” see Qimanī, Ḥurūb 2:262. See the view of Kister, “Massacre,” 61. It is also called the “treachery” of Banū Qurayẓa by the Muslim author Amina Adil, Muhammad, 392. Djait, after calling it majzara (butchery), argues that the incident inaugurated “a truly violent dawla (state)” where violence (as Arabs never saw it) became a frequently applied practice. Djait, al-Fitna, 28. For a list of secondary studies on the incident, see Ibrahim, Stated, ch. 3. For a study on the Medinan Jews, see al-ᶜUmarī, al-Mujtamaᶜ al-madanī fī ᶜahd al-nubuwwa, 137–178. 232 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 2:638. 233 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 2:574–575.
Establishing Pro-ᶜ Abbāsid Orthodoxy 141 on remaining Christian, even after experiencing Islam for a short while.234 Thus, concerning the conversion of ahl al-kitāb, we see several themes in tension: They accept Islam hypocritically, revert from Islam, or reject Islam altogether. It appears that the ᶜAbbāsid-era historians are concerned with various ways to describe ahl al-kitāb in their interaction with Islam’s calling. Each theme serves a particular agenda. If the narrative highlights the unconditional acceptance of Islam, then Jews and Christians affirm its supremacy. The inclusions of hypocritical conversions by ahl al-kitāb, conversions merely for the sake of saving possessions, and rejection after hearing the message of Islam altogether design a vigorous polemic aimed at portraying Jews and Christians negatively. In my estimation, hypocritical acceptance of Islam and conversion to save possessions fit within the topoi of compromised conversion, while rejecting Islam altogether belongs within the topoi of affirmation, as it reflects how Islam’s uniqueness was unrecognized by disgraceful people among ahl al-kitāb. Finally, Ibn Hishām introduces a new facet in the theme of ahl al-kitāb accepting Islam: devotion to Muhammad. It is reported that a Jew called Muḥayyiṣa converted to Islam. He became greatly devoted and obedient to Muhammad, more than his past devotion to his Jewish heritage. When Muḥayyiṣa heard Muhammad say, “If you gain a victory over Jews, kill them,” he immediately jumped onto a Jewish merchant whom he knew well, and killed him.235 Muḥayyiṣa’s older brother was appalled and questioned Muḥayyiṣa’s behavior. Muḥayyiṣa responded, “By Allah, if [Muhammad] instructed me to kill you, I would smite your neck.”236 Muḥayyiṣa’s conversion narrative serves as an affirmation of Muhammad’s prophethood. It reflects the devotion of converts from Judaism to the Prophet and their willingness to oppose their family for the sake of Muhammad and, eventually, Islam. In this, we encounter topoi of affirmation—not only of Islam and its message but also of Muhammad. Of course, the narrative simultaneously indicates Islam’s supremacy over Judaism, as the new faith not only persuades Muḥayyiṣa but also captures his dedication. Similarly, Ibn Hishām reports on a Jew called Nuᶜaym ibn Masᶜūd who was more devoted to Muhammad 234 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:552 (for Banū Qaynuqāᶜ), 1:558 (for the rabbi Finḥāṣ), and 1:223 (Waraqa). The incident of Banū Qaynuqāᶜ rejecting Islam is repeated by Ibn Hishām (2:47). It reportedly occurred after Badr, when Muhammad called the Jews of Banū Qaunuqāᶜ to Islam, threatening the same punishment the Quraysh received. They mocked him and declared that the Qurayshites were not skilled in war as they were. 235 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 2:58–59. 236 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 2:58–59.
142 Conversion to Islam than he was to the Jews. Nuᶜaym converted to Islam, but hid his conversion and acted as a spy among the Jews during the Battle of the Confederates.237 Nuᶜaym successfully created dissent between the Confederates and the Jews, which aided Muhammad and his army. Nuᶜaym’s conversion narrative reflects how Islam victoriously captivated some Jews, who then gave their loyalty to Muhammad instead of the Jewish community. The theme of Jews converting to Islam here serves as an affirmation of Muhammad by depicting converts devoted to him more than they were to their former faith and community. It also emphasizes Islam’s superiority over other faiths. To conclude this section, there are three important observations. First, the theme of Jews and Christians converting to Islam often occurs in Islamic historiographical accounts which seek to stress and enforce specific sectarian, political, and social ideologies.238 As a historiographical theme, it has a focus, content, and range.239 It focuses on the supremacy of Islam and its hegemony over previous revelations. Its content reflects the experience of the convert, while its range extends beyond the supremacy of Islam to tackle other ideological and political purposes: affirming Muhammad’s prophethood and the Qur’ānic revelation, declaring the significance of Islam in persuading slaves and women (socially less privileged), or describing an insincere acceptance of faith for materialistic gain—topoi of affirmation, significance, or compromise, respectively. Second, comparing the theme of ahl al-kitāb converting to Islam between Umayyad-era and ᶜAbbāsid-era writers suggests that they were heavily influenced by ideological requirements of the day. The core of the historical narrative of conversion might be the same, but the literary features and account details change according to religious and sociopolitical necessities.240 Third, while depictions of ahl al-kitāb embracing Islam are emphatically religious, it is imperative that a religious theme be examined in light of social and political constructs instead of merely through a theological lens.241 The historical account is a mere representation of the religio-political
237 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 2:229. 238 Simonsohn, “Conversion to Islam,” 647–662. 239 Donner, Narratives, 144. 240 Savant, New Muslims, 13, where she argues that there appears to be a common core and established memory to which Muslim authors return whenever they recall a specific historical account, but they manipulate the record to respond to the needs of their day. Their added or omitted features reflect hermeneutical choices suitable for their time period. 241 See Savant, New Muslims, 18, as she reflects on the works of Halbwachs and his contribution to the study of collective memory. See also Simonsohn, “Conversion to Islam,” 647–662. We should be careful not to treat historical accounts of conversion from a singular angle, be it sectarian, theological, or such.
Establishing Pro-ᶜ Abbāsid Orthodoxy 143 agenda of the author at the time of writing. This translates into a theologically driven conversion theme, although the phenomenon—if it actually occurred—would have been much more complex.242
Significant Conversions: The Awā’il and the Socially Distinct The issue of the awā’il (earliest or firsts) to accept Islam has been disputed since its earliest precursors in historical accounts.243 We encountered it in reports by Sulaym ibn Qays and al-Zuhrī.244 The theme of the awā’il appears in various forms: first to accept Islam, first tribe to enter Islam collectively, first person to respond to Muhammad’s calling, first clan to embrace Islam among the anṣār, and so forth.245 The awā’il theme is important to history writers, to the extent that Ibn al-Nadīm (d. 385/995) writes of two different works devoted to this theme and titled Akhbār al-awā’il (the history of the firsts); the first is by Hishām ibn al-Kalbī (d. 204/819) and the second by Madā’inī (d. 225/843), but both are now lost.246 The theme fits well in conversion topoi of significance, as it reflects devotion, confidence, and willingness to sacrifice one’s own life for the sake of Islam.247 Those who accepted Islam in its earliest stages are depicted as sincere and pious, unfearful of the consequences of conversion. While the theme in its earliest manifestations appeared in works written under the Umayyads, it continued to flourish under the ᶜAbbāsids. In Kitāb waqᶜat Ṣiffīn, the Shīᶜite historian Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim (d. 212/ 827) emphasizes the theme of awā’il in two significant reports. He states that 242 On the “emphasis” on particular themes in early Islamic historiographical accounts, see Donner, Narratives, 127, and also 125–126, 137–138. 243 See Chapter 2. On the theme of awā’il in Muslim historiography, see Lang, “Awā’il,” where she explores how classical Muslims described the “firsts.” See also Noth/Conrad, Early, 104–108, on awā’il as a historical theme; Rosenthal, “Awā’il,” EI2, 1:758–759; Berg, Development, 27; Juynboll, Muslim, 10–23. 244 Sulaym ibn Qays, Kitāb, 133; Zuhrī 46; Ibn Hishām and Ibn Isḥāq, Life, 114. Mūsā’s accounts include not the first to convert to Islam but the first to convert in Mūsā’s homeland, Medina. 245 Noth/Conrad, Early, 104–108. In Muslim accounts, the names offered for the first to convert to Islam are ᶜAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib, Zayd ibn Ḥāritha, and Abū Bakr. See Sulaym ibn Qays, Kitāb, 133; Zuhrī 46; Ibn Hishām and Ibn Isḥāq, Life, 114; Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 90; Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 1:172, 3:341ff., 3:455ff. (awwal man takallam wa ajāb Muhammad’s calling). For a comparison between Abū Bakr, ᶜAlī, and Zayd regarding their conversions, see al-ᶜAqqād, ᶜAbqariyyat al-ṣiddīq, 73, where he identifies each of them as the first. For a short study on collective conversion and what it means, see Bulliet, “Conversion,” in Princeton Encyclopedia, ed. Böwering et al., 119. 246 Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 96 (al-Kalbī) and 104 (al-Madā’inī). 247 Noth/Conrad, Early, 104–108, where “the form of awā’il” presents opportunity for privileges and reflects “knowledge and cleverness.”
144 Conversion to Islam ᶜAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib “was the first to respond [to Muhammad’s calling] and accept it, to believe and confirm it, and to convert and submit.”248 For Naṣr, there is no doubt that ᶜAlī was the first to embrace Islam. In this assertion, Naṣr is in agreement with the pro-ᶜAlid Sulaym ibn Qays (d. 76/695), who reported the same more than a century earlier.249 However, unlike Sulaym, Naṣr also insists that ahl al-bayt (the people of the household of Muhammad) were the first “to believe [in Muhammad] and to trust the revelation he received.”250 The logic is that the first to believe is the best and the most faithful. While both Naṣr and Sulaym are supporters of ᶜAlī and the ᶜAlid cause, Naṣr is more explicit in his support of the Shīᶜites and āl al-bayt (household of Muhammad). Although Sulaym praises the household of Muhammad, he never explicitly mentions them as the first to accept Islam, as Naṣr does. Naṣr appears to forcefully advance the rights of the Shīᶜites, ahl al-bayt and shīᶜat ᶜAlī. One reason is that Naṣr’s political and religious contexts required such a claim. The early ᶜAbbāsid caliphs, we are told, attempted to disassociate themselves from Shīᶜism, although the Shīᶜites supported their overthrow of the Umayyads.251 Naṣr resists such attempts and emphasizes the significant role played by āl al-bayt (the family of the Prophet), evidenced by their acceptance of Islam as awā’il (firsts). In this, Naṣr disengages himself from the rulers’ anti-Shīᶜism standpoint.252 He is pro-Shīᶜite and anti-ᶜAbbāsid. This is evidenced by the reports that Naṣr participated in revolutionary actions against the ᶜAbbāsids.253 Therefore, this theme—the awā’il in conversion— advances the historian’s political and religious agenda and is tweaked and shaped to serve the agenda of his day. While Sulaym is satisfied with 248 Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim, Waqᶜat Ṣiffīn, 118. Petersen considers Naṣr a Shīᶜite historian whose work “constitutes a focal point of the early Shiite historical writing.” Petersen, ᶜAlī, 107; see 101–108 for an overall evaluation of Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim. It is worth noting that Petersen was not aware of Sulaym’s work. 249 Sulaym ibn Qays, Kitāb, 133, 312, especially the emphasis in 419. 250 Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim, Waqᶜat Ṣiffīn, 89. 251 See van Ess, Theology, 3:18ff. On the good phase of mutual goals between the ᶜAlids and the ᶜAbbāsids, see al-Masᶜūdī, Murūj, 3:212ff.; Rifāᶜī, ᶜAṣr al-Ma’mūn, 1:82ff.; Ḍayf, al-ᶜAṣr, 9–13; al- Dūrī, al-ᶜAṣr, 36–41. For the ᶜAbbāsid policy against Shīᶜites, see al-Ṣadūq, ᶜUyūn, 1:108–112; al- Isfahānī, Maqātil, 387ff.; also al-Dūrī, al-ᶜAṣr, 110ff.; al-Amīn, Kitāb aᶜyān al-shīᶜa, 1:24ff.; Abū Khalīl, Hārūn, 194ff.; al-Wurayyimī, Fī al-I’tilāf, 117ff., 146, 191ff.; Kennedy, Prophet, 141; Kennedy, Caliphate, 92–93. 252 According to Petersen, the Shīᶜite historians in the earliest Abbasid era attempted “to disengage themselves from any connexion with the new rulers.” Petersen, ᶜAlī, 104–105. For an explanation of the difference of emphasis between Shīᶜite and ᶜAbbāsid traditions, see Petersen, ᶜAlī, 88, where he explains that the Shīᶜite tradition places ᶜAlī, Fāṭima, and al-Ḥusayn above everyone else, while the ᶜAbbāsids’ elevates ᶜAbdullāh ibn al-ᶜAbbās, portraying him as ᶜAlī’s mentor. 253 See al-Isfahānī, Maqātil, 355, on how Naṣr participated in Abū al-Sarāyā’s revolution against the ᶜAbbāsids. See al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 13:70–76; Kennedy, Prophet, 152; Kennedy, Early, 207–211.
Establishing Pro-ᶜ Abbāsid Orthodoxy 145 supporting ᶜAlī’s cause, Naṣr goes beyond mere support of the imam to assert the rights of his descendants and devotees. Ibn Hishām (d. 218/833), in agreement with Naṣr’s assertion, states that ᶜAlī was awwal dhakar aslam (the first male to convert).254 He observes that Abū Bakr also converted, and aẓhar islāmah (declared his conversion).255 Thus, in the same account we have two individuals claiming to be the first. Unlike Naṣr, Ibn Hishām does not seem to exaggerate in highlighting ᶜAlī’s position as the earliest to convert, especially as Ibn Hishām refers to ᶜAlī’s young age immediately followed by Abū Bakr’s bold declaration of Islam. In fact, one may understand from Ibn Hishām’s reports that Abū Bakr was a brave and mature man, who “called for Allah and his messenger” immediately after his conversion, instead of a young ten-year-old who was unaware of his decision’s significance.256 The designing of competing reports, even within the same tradition, aims to create ambiguity for political or religious reasons.257 Presenting both ᶜAlī and Abū Bakr as awā’il (firsts) dilutes the opposing views. Although Ibn Hishām (d. 218/ 833) and Naṣr (d. 212/ 827) were contemporaries, they treated the theme differently, as the two adopted competing ideologies. Their competing views are reflected in their different geographical locations. Ibn Hishām was born in Baṣra and spent most of his life in Egypt, while Naṣr lived mainly in Kūfa. At that time, Kūfa was a center for pro-ᶜAlid enthusiasts, while Egypt nurtured various proto-Sunnī traditionists.258 Unlike Naṣr, Ibn Hishām was not pro- 254 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:245. ᶜAlī was reportedly ten when he āman wa ṣaddaq (believed and trusted). 255 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:249. Regarding the timing of the conversion of ᶜAlī and Abū Bakr, see al- ᶜUmarī, al-Sīra al-nabawiyya al-ṣaḥīḥa, 133–134. Haykal, al-Ṣiddīq, 13ff. 256 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:249. See Margoliouth, Mohammed, 98, where he simply assumes Abū Bakr to be the “first convert.” On Abū Bakr’s boldness and immediate preaching of Islam, see Haykal, al- Ṣiddīq Abū Bakr, 13–15. 257 On the disagreement among Muslims regarding the matter, see Ibn Qutayba al-Dīnawarī, Maᶜārif, 168–169; al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 1:112; al-Maqdisī, al-Bad’, 4:145; al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 1:128; al-Suyūṭī, Ta’rīkh, 1:30. See al-Bayhaqī, Dalā’il, 2:163, where he clearly puts Abū Bakr and ᶜAlī in the same category as firsts. Compare with al-Suhaylī, Rawḍ, 2:289; al-Ḥalabī, Insān, 1:386. Thus, Denise Spellberg writes, “Both Abu Bakr and ‘Ali are described as the first converts to Islam, with disagreement about their precedence sometimes taking place within the same tradition. The attribution of this honor held great significance throughout the Muslim community, but its determination drew upon conflicting accounts to suit political necessity.” Spellberg, Politics, 35. Rosenthal observes, “the question: Who was first? was soon asked in connexion with every conceivable subject and always answered, though often in a rather fanciful manner.” Rosenthal, “Awā’il,” EI2, 1:758 (italics mine). 258 On Kūfa, see Ibn al-Faqīh, Mukhtaṣar kitāb al-buldān, 315; also the Shīᶜite study of Aḥmad al-Burāqī, Tārīkh al-Kūfa, 32–38, 94–106, et passim; Petersen, ᶜAlī, 50–53, 61, 119, 159, where he states that Kūfa is “the Shīᶜī tradition’s firmest bastion” (119). It is noteworthy that Ibn Hishām was from Baṣra, which was, according to Petersen, a “political, religious and cultural opposition to Shiite
146 Conversion to Islam ᶜAlid.259 Thus, once again we see how the theme of awā’il is tweaked according to the historian’s standpoint in order to reflect the status of significant individuals; it fits well into conversion topoi of significance.260 Nevertheless, the awā’il theme is not only concerned with the earliest or first to convert to Islam. The theme also identifies the awā’il of specific significance in embracing Islam.261 Ibn Hishām reports ᶜUmayr ibn ᶜAdī as awwal man aslam (the first to convert) from the clan of Khaṭma, which became a stronghold of protection for other converts.262 The significance of ᶜUmayr ibn ᶜAdī’s early conversion appears in the report that many of his clan converted after him, “as they saw ᶜizz (the hegemony and honor) of Islam.”263 The narrative primarily highlights the significance of conversion, yet also employs literary features to advance praiseworthy aspects of it. One thread starts with the awā’il to convert, and moves smoothly to another of preaching Islam to one’s people. The report emphasizes the notion that people were drawn to the growing power of the converts’ community—a feature which will be discussed shortly in another conversion theme. In the same vein, like Ibn Hishām, Ibn al-Kalbī (d. 204/819) identifies Rāfiᶜ ibn Mālik as awwal man aslam (the first to convert) from among the anṣār (Muhammad’s Medinan supporters), and mentions Nafīᶜ ibn al-Muᶜallā of the Khazraj, who converted to Islam and was the first killed before the hijra.264 Once again, we encounter the awā’il theme in various traditions, attributing significant honor, prestige, and glory to specific
Kufa” (112); al-Khuḍarī, al-Dawla, 19; Newman, Formative, 8ff.; Rosenthal, “Review,” 537–538. For proto-Sunnī traditionists in Egypt, see al-Wurayyimī, Fī al-I’tilāf, 117ff., 191ff., 257–258; Abū Khalīl, Hārūn, 194ff.; also al-Bayhaqī, Manāqib al-Shāfiᶜī, 1:399–401. 259 See my earlier explanation regarding Ibn Hishām’s anti-ᶜAlid bias. See Sellheim, “Prophet,” where he stresses that Ibn Hishām’s Sīra is pro-ᶜAbbāsid and anti-ᶜAlid. Al-Subḥānī, Dūr, 46; Brown, Muhammad, 87. On the ᶜAbbāsids’ claims against the ᶜAlids, see Hibri, “Redemption,” 241–265. 260 Rosenthal writes, “the awa’il works are brilliant expressions of the cultural outlook and historical sense of their authors.” Rosenthal, “Awā’il,” EI2, 1:758 (italics mine). 261 Noth/Conrad, Early, 108, where awā’il as a literary form entails honor and prestigious status and reflects “knowledge and cleverness.” 262 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 2:638. 263 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 2:638. 264 Ibn al-Kalbī, Nasab, 1:424 and 1:420, respectively. On Nafīᶜ, see Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 5:335. On Hishām Ibn al-Kalbī and his role in establishing the “ᶜAbbāsid “orthodoxy” in historical writing, see Petersen, ᶜAlī, 118–120, and 73–74. Petersen argues that Hishām al-Kalbī was, like Sayf, pro- ᶜAbbāsid. Both played a significant role in establishing the pro-ᶜAbbāsid tradition. This is evidenced in how Hishām ibn al-Kalbī emphasized al-ᶜAbbās’s mentorship of ᶜAlī (118–120). Hishām was also anti-Umayyad, and thus his reports do not seem to praise the clan of Banū Umayya. He relied, like his father Ibn al-Sā’ib, on the Kufic tradition of Abū Mikhnaf (73–74).
Establishing Pro-ᶜ Abbāsid Orthodoxy 147 individuals.265 The awā’il in conversion theme is thus included under topoi of significance. Finally, topoi of significance also include other themes of noteworthy conversions: women, slaves, and wujahā’ (notables). In their constructions of conversion narratives, classical historians seem concerned with describing how Islam successfully persuaded these social groups. The logic is that Islam reached across social clusters within the society: It convinced notables as well as slaves. Even women accepted Islam in high numbers and were effective in proclaiming Islam to relatives. These themes aim to emphasize how Islam overcomes established social stratifications—especially when compared to pre-Islamic Arabia—as it elevates the status of women and slaves by reaching them in the same way it reaches men, notables, and elites.266 One additional importance for the acceptance of Islam among the notables is that it provided Muhammad with support.267 We examined initial occurrences of these themes in Umayyad-era accounts, and here we continue to trace these
265 Noth/Conrad, Early, 106 (the form reflects “honor and glory”), 107 (praises of individuals), and 108 (it entails “knowledge and cleverness”). Noth observes, “reports of this kind [of awā’il] could doubtless have enhanced the prestige of the descendants and fellow tribesmen of the person named. The extreme precision of the genealogy given of the man who slew the first Persian many be an indication of such a bias” (106). 266 For women in the jāhiliyya, see William E. Shepard, “Age of Ignorance,” EI2, 1:37ff, especially 38, where he compares Islam and pre-Islam regarding women and drinking alcohol, and stresses the class stratification of the jāhiliyya and how “the Qur’ān supports human equality and encourages concern for the poor.” For women and the “virtual” Arabian caste system, see Donner, Early, 11– 50, especially 32. See also Hoyland, Arabia, 132, where he reflects on women’s roles as wives and mothers in Arabian society on the eve of Islam, as well as the differentiation among women as freeborn and slave. On women in pre-Islamic Arabia, see the discussion of Nadia Maria El Cheikh, Women, 6ff., where she studies three different scholarly arguments regarding the impact of Islam on the prevailing pre-Islamic gender system. Her arguments center on how the early ᶜAbbāsids, in their Golden Age, were concerned with ideas about gender and sexuality; these ideas “were central to the process by which the caliphate achieved self-definition and articulated its systems of power and thought.” See also Ahmed, Women, 41ff. (ch. 3, “Women and the Rise of Islam”) and 64ff. (ch. 4, “The Transitional Age”). For the interpretation of contrasting women’s status between Islam and pre-Islam, see Stowasser, Women, 120; Amira El-Azhary Sonbol, “Rethinking Women and Islam,” in Daughters, ed. Haddad and Esposito, 108–146. See also, though dated, Abbott, “Women,” 259–284. For recent studies on women in pre-Islamic Arabia, see F. E. Peters, “Introduction,” in Arabs, ed. Peters, xxxiii; also Donner, Early, 288 n.49. For a valuable discussion on slavery in Islam between fundamentalists and modernists, see Clarence-Smith, Islam; John Ralph Willis, “The Ideology of Enslavement in Islam,” in Slaves, ed. Willis, 1–15; also Kecia Ali, Marriage; Jonathan E. Brockopp, “Slaves and Slavery,” EQ, 5:56–60. 267 Muhammad was not among the notables of the Quraysh, but the “marriage [with Khadīja] gave him wealth and rank among the notables of Mecca.” Roberson and Das, Introduction, 147. See also Buhl and Welch, “Muḥammad,” EI2, 7:360–376, especially 364, where Muhammad’s message won over a few people in Mecca but was met with harsh criticism and severe opposition from Mecca’s notables.
148 Conversion to Islam themes in ᶜAbbāsid works.268 It should be noted that most of the literary themes of women, notables, and slaves accepting Islam overlap with other themes discussed in previous sections in this chapter. Thus, the following analysis takes the previous discussion into consideration, highlights the unmentioned reports, and emphasizes the significance topoi. Concerning women accepting Islam, al-Wāqidī (d. ca. 207/823) writes of an unnamed woman from Banū Saᶜd, who came to Muhammad and accepted Islam after he preached to her.269 This narrative includes two themes: conversion of women (significance topoi) and conversion as a result of meeting Muhammad (affirmation topoi). Similar topoi appear in al-Wāqidī’s report of Wāthila’s sister, who converted after she heard him preaching to his uncle.270 Here, the two themes are conversion of women (significance) and conversion as a result of preaching Islam (affirmation topoi). Al-Wāqidī also describes the woman Hind Bint ᶜUtba—daughter of the Qurashite notable ᶜUtba ibn Rabīᶜa, wife of Abū Sufyān, and mother of Muᶜāwiya—accepting Islam and destroying an idol she used to keep in her home.271 In this report, we encounter three themes which all represent topoi of significance: the conversion of a woman, who was a member of a notable family, weaved into conversion followed by good deeds. If we consider that Hind accepted Islam on the day of the conquest of Mecca, one can include this theme also, although it belongs with topoi of compromise, not significance. Additionally, al-Wāqidī mentions three women who became Muhammad’s wives upon their conversion: Juwayriyya after seeing Muhammad’s power,272 Rayḥāna after reluctance,273 and Ṣafiyya, whom Muhammad loved and ḥasun islāmuhā.274 The narrative of Ṣafiyya’s 268 We encountered the conversion of a black slave from Khaybar (Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 248–249); women converting to Islam (Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 251, 278–279, 299); two men from ashrāf qawmih (the notables of [Muhammad’s] people), Abū Bakr and ᶜUmar, followed him (Zuhrī 46), ᶜUmar converted to Islam after hearing the recitation of the Qur’ān (Zuhrī 47–48); al-ᶜAbbās (Zuhrī 66); Abū Sufyan (Zuhrī 87ff); most of the notable elites of the anṣār accepted Islam (Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 90). 269 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:869. 270 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 3:1028; fuller account in Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba. 271 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:871. On Hind, see the discussion of El Cheikh, Women, 17–37, calling her “Prototype of the Jāhiliyya and Umayyad Woman.” See also al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 3:298ff.; al- Dhahabī, Siyar, 3:120. 272 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 1:408. Donald Little treats Juwayriyya and her relationship with Muhammad as a theme: “Another prominent theme of the [Tabūk] raid in both accounts is the Prophet’s ransom of and marriage to Juwayriyya, the daughter of the chief of Banu’l-Muṣṭaliq.” Donald P. Little, “Narrative Themes and Devices in al-Wāqidī’s Kitāb al-maghāzī,” in Reason, ed. Lawson, 42. 273 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:520. 274 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:709.
Establishing Pro-ᶜ Abbāsid Orthodoxy 149 conversion describes two themes: women and praiseworthy conversions. Al-Wāqidī also reports on al- Shaymā’ bint al- Ḥārith, Muhammad’s foster sister, who met him, reminded him of their family relation, accepted Islam, and received his gift of three slaves.275 A list of five women are reported to have accepted Islam on the day of the conquest of Mecca.276 Like al-Wāqidī, Ibn Hishām (d. 218/833) mentions conversion among women, especially to qualify to marry prophets. He refers to a woman who accepted Islam and became the Prophet Sulaymān’s wife.277 He also reports that all of Muhammad’s daughters accepted Islam and emigrated from Mecca to Medina with him.278 Throughout his accounts, he describes various women accepting Islam.279 Like women, slaves and wujahā’ (notables) also accepted Islam, which demonstrates how Islam crossed social barriers on various levels. Al-Wāqidī refers to Yasār and Aslam, both slaves who accepted Islam,280 while Ibn Hisham writes of Bilāl ibn Rabāḥ, who converted and was later emancipated, in addition to many slaves from Ṭā’if who converted and were freed by the Prophet.281 Among the wujahā’ (notables) who converted to Islam, we read of Muhammad’s uncles Ḥamza ibn ᶜAbd al-Muṭṭalib and al-ᶜAbbās ibn ᶜAbd al-Muṭṭalib, as well as Abū Sufyān ibn Ḥarb.282
275 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 3:914. 276 Al-Wāqidī, al-Maghāzī, 2:848–850; see also a short report of conversion of a woman, Umm al- Mundhir, in 2:515. 277 Ibn Hishām, Kitāb al-Tījān, 1:436; when she converted, ḥasun islāmuhā. 278 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:191. 279 Women, including Umm Ḥabība bin Abī Sufyān, Faṭima bint al-Khaṭṭāb, Khālida bint al- Ḥārith, Rayḥāna, Umm Ḥakīm, and Juwayriyya, among others. See Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:223, 1:343– 349, 1:517, 2:245, 2:418, 2:646, respectively. 280 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:649, 3:987–988, respectively. 281 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:317–318 (six slaves were emancipated with Bilāl), 2:485, respectively. It should be noted that Bilāl was a mawlā of Abū Bakr (1:506). See Simonsohn, “Conversion, Exemption.” 282 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:292 (Ḥamza), 1:646 (al-ᶜAbbās), 2:403 (Abū Sufyān). See also al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:823 (Abū Sufyān). Note that al-Wāqidī does not mention the account of Ḥamaza’s conversion. For the notables of Mecca (wujahā’ Makka), see Jawwād ᶜAlī, al-Mufaṣṣal, 7:91–112 (Abū Sufyān 7:104; Abū Lahab, i.e., ᶜAbd al-ᶜUzzā ibn ᶜAbd al-Muṭṭalib 7:112; also the sons of ᶜAbd al- Muṭṭalib 7:82; ten families of notability in the Quraysh Umayya, Nawfal, ᶜAbd al-Dār, Asad, among others 7:112; for a reference on ashrāf and sādāt al-ᶜarab, see 7:99). See also al-Zubayrī, Nasab Quraysh, 1:17 (on ᶜAbd al-Muṭṭalib), 1:123 (on Abū Sufyān), 1:207ff (on ᶜAbd al-ᶜUzzā), et passim; Ibn Ḥabīb, Muḥabbar, 1:164ff. (on the notables of the Quraysh, especially of Banū Quṣayy); Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 3:47ff. (on Muhammad’s genealogy and his extended family from the Quraysh); W. M. Watt, et al., “Makka,” EI2, 6:144ff.
150 Conversion to Islam
Encountering Muhammad and His Message: Affirming Prophethood The historical writers repeatedly describe conversion to Islam as a result of encountering Muhammad.283 This encounter can take various forms, including seeing his appearance, experiencing his character traits, hearing his words, listening to him recite the Qur’ān, or even discovering his name mentioned in pre-Islamic divine revelations.284 In terms of its focus and function, this theme aims primarily at affirming Muhammad’s prophethood; thus, it fits within topoi of affirmation. While the focus of the theme is Muhammad and complimenting him, the content and range of the theme vary, as they serve the particular description advanced by the historian.285 Al-Wāqidī (d. ca. 207/823) describes the conversion of Qubāth al- Kinānī as a result of encountering Muhammad on several occasions.286 Qubāth was among the defeated pagans of Mecca in the Battle of Badr; four years later, after the Battle of the Confederates, he traveled from Mecca to meet Muhammad at Medina. As an unconvinced man, Qubāth entered Muhammad’s mosque, and the Prophet surprised him by calling him by his name. This immediately resulted in Qubāth declaring the Shahada and converting to Islam.287 Qubāth’s narrative aims at affirming the truthfulness of Muhammad’s prophethood by emphasizing his knowledge of the unknown. The logic is that encountering Muhammad persuades people of his message. The same appears in the case of another convert: ᶜUthmān ibn al-ᶜĀṣ, a young man of Thaqīf, who met Muhammad, asked him to answer questions about Islam, and requested that he recite the Qur’ān.288 283 We found this theme repeated in many reports associated with al-Zuhrī and Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba under the Umayyads. See, for instances, Zuhrī 47; Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 88ff., 107, 251, 279–281, 299. Fred Donner calls forms such as these “themes of prophecy.” Donner, Narratives, 147ff. 284 Noth writes of how historical writers deploy their topoi as literary devices repeatedly and frequently. Noth/Conrad, Early, 109. Donner, Narratives, 141–142. Various classical Muslim works focus on Muhammad’s traits and character, including al-Shamā’il al-Muḥammadiyya by Abū ᶜĪsā al-Tirmidhī (d. 279/892), Akhlāq al-nabī by al-Aṣbahānī (d. 369/979), and Sharaf al-muṣṭafā by ᶜAbd al-Malik al-Kharkūshī (d. 407/1016). For well-known descriptions of Muhammad, see Schimmel, And Muhammad, 34. 285 On the focus, content, and range of literary themes, see Donner, Narratives, 144. On the theme of prophecy or prophethood, see Stroumsa, “Signs,” 101–114, where she argues that the theme includes “a list of arguments meant to support the claim of one particular prophet, and his superiority over other prophets” (102). Donner refers to the theme of nubuwwa (prophecy) in Narratives, 149ff. See also Wansbrough, Sectarian, 27, as he refers to the mabᶜath literature. On Muhammad as an unmatched convincing proclaimer, see al-ᶜAqqād, ᶜAbqariyyat Muḥammad, 19ff. 286 Another form of his name is Quthāth. For more on Qubāth, see Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 7:288; Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, Istīᶜāb, 3:1303; Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 4:359. 287 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 1:98. 288 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 3:966.
Establishing Pro-ᶜ Abbāsid Orthodoxy 151 ᶜUthmān was enthralled with Muhammad and the Qur’ān, which led him to convert to Islam.289 In ᶜUthmān’s narrative, the beauty and influence of Muhammad’s Qur’ānic message is praised. Here, topoi of affirmation are represented by two themes: conversion due to encountering Muhammad, and conversion as a result of hearing the Qur’ān. The range of the themes grows by adding literary features. Moreover, al-Wāqidī reports a special woman converted after meeting Muhammad: After the raid of Banū al Muṣṭaliq, Juwayriyya bint al-Ḥārith, astonished by Muhammad’s power and the number of his horses and warriors, converted to Islam and became his wife.290 In Juwayriyya’s narrative, conversion after encountering Muhammad is arguably the theme’s focus, but its range extends to other themes, including the significance of women accepting Islam and perhaps a compromised conversion for materialistic gain. In examining al-Wāqidī’s use of this theme, there is hardly any noteworthy difference between his accounts and those of earlier writers; however, the repeated pattern of emphasizing conversion after encountering Muhammad is present throughout. As argued earlier in this book, some themes drive sharp religio-political opinions, while others merely describe the fact that classical authors rely on a common pool of traditions from which they choose as they design their narratives. Like al-Wāqidī, Ibn Hishām provides several accounts advancing the theme of conversion as a result of encountering Muhammad and his message. It is reported that al-Ṭufayl ibn ᶜAmr al-Dawsī, a noble eloquent poet of the elites, came to Mecca, saw Muhammad at the mosque, and heard his recitation of the Qur’ān: “I have never heard better than the Qur’ān,” declared the poet.291 The experience of encountering Muhammad and hearing his Qur’ānic message is presented, in this case, as a powerful affirmation of Islam—especially as the praise of the Qur’ān comes from a noble poet.
289 ᶜUthmān’s zeal for Muhammad and the Qur’ān is portrayed in a compelling narrative: If Muhammad was asleep, ᶜUthmān would go to Abū Bakr or Ubayy ibn Kaᶜb, demanding they recite the Qur’ān for him. It is reported that Muhammad admired and loved him. Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 3:966. 290 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 1:408. On Juwayriyya bint al-Ḥārith, see Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 8:92–94; Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ṭabaqāt, 1:638; Ibn Manda, Maᶜrifat al-ṣaḥāba, 1:962–964; Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, Istīᶜāb, 4:1804; Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 7:57; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 2:261ff. On Juwayriyya’s conversion, Donald P. Little writes, “In this respect, the conversion of Juwayriyya is important as a variation on the several permutations of this theme, most of which stress the rewards of conversion and the penalty for refusing it. Who can have been better rewarded than Juwayriyya with her marriage to the Prophet and the freedom of her kinsfolk?” Donald P. Little, “Narrative Themes,” 43. 291 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:383–385.
152 Conversion to Islam As explained in Chapter 2, the frequency of topoi of affirmation would grow in ᶜAbbāsid-era works. One reason is that, as Muslims lived in the conquered lands surrounded by non-Muslims, they needed stories that demonstrated the effectiveness of the Qur’ān as contrasted with other revelations, and needed to highlight their prophet compared to other prophets. Conversion themes which aim to elevate Muhammad and his message respond to these growing needs. This is evidenced in the ample accounts which illustrate Christians and Jews encountering Muhammad: A Christian named al-Jārūd approaches Muhammad and negotiates conversion by asking about the guarantees in the new religion.292 Muhammad declares that Islam is khayrun (better) than Christianity; consequently, al-Jārūd converts to Islam and his people do the same, but later revert.293 This story explicitly elevates Islam over Christianity. Al-Jārūd’s conversion reflects Muhammad’s unmatched influence. The narrative focuses on the affirmation of Muhammad’s prophecy, but the range of the literary theme includes the superiority of Islam over Christianity as well as the compromised conversion of those who reverted afterward. This account makes more sense when placed within its context in the third century of Islam, rather than retrojecting it back into seventh-century Arabia, when it is doubtful that Islam had such a distinct character. In the same vein, Ibn Hishām reports that twenty Christian men came to Muhammad at the mosque in Mecca after hearing about him.294 They asked him questions, and he answered and recited the Qur’ān for them. When they heard the Qur’ān and realized that Muhammad was mentioned in it, they wept, responded to Allah, and believed.295 The conversion narrative includes two literary features: encountering Muhammad in person and hearing the recitation of the Qur’ān. These features enforce the affirmation of Muhammad and his prophethood. While the narrative emphasizes the theme of conversion as a result of meeting Muhammad, it also reflects supremacy of Islam over Christianity, thus achieving goals similar to those in the account of al-Jārūd’s conversion. Similarly, Muslim historians designed narratives around Christians discovering Muhammad’s name mentioned in the Bible in order to advance proof of Muhammad’s prophethood. In a lengthy account of the wafd (delegation) of Najrān, Ibn Hishām emphasizes how the Christian chiefs of this
292
Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 2:574–575. Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 2:574–575. 294 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:391–392. 295 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:391–392. 293
Establishing Pro-ᶜ Abbāsid Orthodoxy 153 delegation inherited religious books throughout generations—books in which the name of Muhammad was explicitly mentioned. They never opened these books until the time of the Christian chief contemporary to Muhammad.296 This chief broke the seals on these books, found Muhammad’s name, and converted to Islam.297 While we are not told which Christian books in particular included Muhammad’s name, the narrative revolves around affirming Muhammad’s prophethood and presumably provides proof from Christian books inherited by the Christians in Najrān.298 The major point of the narrative is clear: Muhammad is affirmed by Christians and their scriptures. This is another case in which literary themes are combined to demonstrate the supremacy of Islam and affirm Muhammad’s prophethood. This is evidenced by an additional literary feature in the narrative: Muhammad is reported to have debated these Christians, questioning Christian beliefs of God having a son, eating pork, and worshipping the Cross—a debate which Muhammad won easily.299 The logic of the story is that Islam is victorious over Christianity. Again, as in the case of al-Jārūd’s conversion, this account fits within the sectarian context in later centuries of Islam, when Muslims ruled and lived among Christians in conquered lands. Whether or not the encounter occurred, it is better viewed as a response to the needs at the time of writing than as a description of a compelling religious encounter in seventh-century Arabia. Additionally, Ibn Hishām introduces conversion after hearing the recitation of the Qur’ān not only by Muhammad but also by his companions. It is reported that Usayd ibn Ḥuḍayr met with two companions of Muhammad immediately after the hijra. One of the companions, Muṣᶜab ibn ᶜUmayr, recited the Qur’ān to Usayd, who believed and converted to Islam; afterward, his face shined with faith.300 In ᶜAbbāsid-era works, we encounter a more sophisticated formation of various themes together. In narratives that combine various conversion themes, it is reported that, when the victorious Muhammad entered Mecca on the day of conquest, Abū Bakr brought his father to the mosque, where he converted to Islam after meeting Muhammad.301 The conversion of Abū Bakr’s father should not be viewed only as a result 296 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:574–575. 297 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:574–575. 298 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:574–575. 299 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:574–575. John Wansbrough treats wafd Najrān as a literary motif, which “may even contain a semblance of historicity.” Wansbrough, Sectarian, 22. See also J. M. Fiey, “Naṣārā,” EI2, 7:970–973; M. Sharon, “People of the Book,” EQ, 4:36–43. 300 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:436–437. On Usayd ibn Ḥuḍayr, see Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, Istīᶜāb, 1:92–93; Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 1:240. 301 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 2:406.
154 Conversion to Islam of encountering Muhammad, as it followed the conquest of Mecca; it will be analyzed shortly as a compromised conversion.302 Furthermore, in his Kitāb al-Tījān, Ibn Hishām discusses an adulterous man who used to love his cousin. After kissing her on the road, three wonderful creatures which resembled men appeared and instructed him to reject idol worship and seek the double Shahada. This miraculous encounter healed his eyes and led him to Medina to meet Muhammad, which resulted in his conversion and immediate reading of the Qur’ān.303 In sum, historians writing under the ᶜAbbāsids followed the same pattern we encountered in Umayyad-era accounts, as they repeatedly emphasized the theme of conversion as a result of encountering Muhammad and his Qur’ānic message. The theme’s focus is on affirming Muhammad’s prophethood and his message; therefore, it fits well within conversion topoi of affirmation. The theme’s range can depart from a precise function of affirmation to establish related interests, including the supremacy of Islam over other religions or the significance of conversion within particular groups of people such as women, slaves, or elites. The theme cannot be treated rigidly, as it develops according to the historian’s requirements. While its focus and content may continue to remain the same, its range and function usually adapt and evolve.304 One important observation: The frequency of topoi of affirmation grew noticeably in ᶜAbbāsid-era works, not only because of the growth of writing but also—and probably more so—because Muslims, living surrounded by Christians and Jews, desired to demonstrate to their non-Muslim audience the eloquence of the Qur’ān, hegemony of Islam, and prophethood of Muhammad.
302 See Chapter 2 on the ṭulaqā’. See also Sulaym 325; Bosworth, “Ṭulakā’,” EI2, 10:603; Elizabeth Urban, “The Identity Crisis of Abū Bakra,” in Lineaments, ed. Cobb, 125–126, where she discusses ṭulaqā’. Ibn al-Athīr, al-Kāmil fī al-tārīkh, 5:115, uses tulaqa’ as the opposite of honor, notability, and dignity. Al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 2:74, 5:319. Like Abū Bakr’s father, Ibn Hishām writes that, after the conquest of Mecca, Surāqa converted to Islam in an encounter with Muhammad Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:490. The narrative of Surāqa is discussed in Chapter 2 in Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba’s accounts. On Surāqa, see Ibn Hishām and Ibn Isḥāq, Life, 225, 292, 319; al-Suhaylī, Rawḍ, 4:140ff., 5:67, 141; ᶜAbd al-Jabbār, Tathbīt, 2:367; al-Kalāᶜī, Iktifā’, 1:288–291; Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ta’rīkh, 1:157; al-Fasawī, Maᶜrifa, 1:240; Ibn al-Athīr, Kāmil, 1:696; al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 1:324–328, 2:94, 3:308; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, sīra 1:270–273; Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 1:147ff.; Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, Istīᶜāb, 2:581–582; Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 2:412; al-Samᶜānī, Ansāb, 7:116. 303 Ibn Hishām, Kitāb al-Tījān fī mulūk Ḥimyar, 1:219. There is no doubt about the mythical depiction in the narrative and its similar features to biblical accounts of the Old Testament. Centuries after Muhammad’s death, Muslim writers expanded extensive narratives of metaphysical miracles attributed to him as proofs of his prophethood. See al-Kharkūshī, Sharaf al-muṣṭafā, 4:7–85; al- Tirmidhī, al-Shamā’il, 31–32; al-Aṣbahānī, Akhlāq al-nabī, 1:475. 304 On how themes evolve and their focus, content, and range, see Donner, Narratives, 142–144.
Establishing Pro-ᶜ Abbāsid Orthodoxy 155
Genuine vs. Insincere Conversion: What Kind Is Your Islam? Classical Muslim historians seem concerned with the authenticity of conversion. They repeatedly describe the sincerity of someone’s islām (conversion) as ḥasun islāmuh (his [conversion to] Islam was praiseworthy, commendable, or virtuous), or state that an individual aslam rāghiban (converted willingly and eagerly). In some cases, this positive notion is evidenced by the convert’s good deeds following conversion, including the destruction of idols, construction of mosques, and even persecution due to conversion. This theme reflects the significance of authentic conversion, which is categorized in this study within topoi of significance.305 Conversely, classical historians also provide negative assessments of certain conversions: aslam rāhiban (converted unwillingly or fearfully), aslam karhan (converted forcibly), or istaslam (gave in) rather than aslam (converted). The negative description appears in various literary forms, including inauthentic conversion for the purpose of saving one’s possessions or as a result of a defeat in battle. It also appears in collective conversion of an entire tribe after negotiation, reversion from Islam, or reported untruthful conversion in secrecy. This negative assessment of someone’s conversion fits better within topoi of compromise, as it indicates insincere acceptance of faith. Here, I will examine the themes in the accounts of the historians under study. Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim (d. 212/827) reports on a letter sent from ᶜAlī to Muᶜāwiya, in which ᶜAlī described two ways in which people yadkhulūn al- dīn (enter into the religion): ṭawᶜan aw karhan (willingly or unwillingly), or, in another form, raghbatan aw rahbatan (eagerly or fearfully).306 The statement suggests that some converts were inauthentic in their acceptance of Islam. This is also evidenced in a phrase used repeatedly by Naṣr, in which he refers to converts as mā aslamū lakin istaslamū (did not convert but 305 We encountered it, for instance, in the conversion cases of Surāqa and ᶜĀmir ibn Fuhayra. See Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 106, 107. On the “emphasis” of particular themes in early Islamic historiographical accounts, see Donner, Narratives, 127, and also 125–126, 137–138. 306 Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim, Waqᶜat Ṣiffīn, 150. On the meaning of ṭawᶜan, see “ṭawᶜ,” in Ibn Manẓūr, Lisān, 8:240; al-Rāzī, Mukhtār, 193; al-Fīrūzābādī, Qāmūs, 744. For a progressive Muslim view on forcing Islam on non-Muslims using the sword, see al-Ruṣāfī, Kitāb al-shakhṣiyya al-Muḥammadiyya, 286–287. On the roots and authenticity of the issue of non-Muslims surrendering to Muslims after the conquests, see the study by Milka Levy-Rubin, Non-Muslims, 32–56, as she examines early Muslim historiographical and legal literature which deals with the submission agreements between the conquerors and the conquered. She particularly investigates the so-called Shurūṭ ᶜUmar (Covenant of Umar) and focuses on “the process of the formation” of the non-Muslim dhimmī status; she concludes that the document “reflects the completion of a process in which Muslim society was redefining itself versus the conquered societies” (167).
156 Conversion to Islam merely submitted) while asarrū al-kufr (keeping their unbelief or infidelity secret).307 Unlike these insincere conversions, Naṣr observes that ᶜAlī praised Khabbāb ibn al-Aratt’s conversion as aslam rāghiban (he converted willingly and eagerly).308 In contrast to the positive conversion example of Khabbāb, Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim describes Muᶜāwiya negatively as a man who converted rāhib ghayr rāghib (out of fear, not conviction).309 Naṣr uses conversion themes to serve his pro-ᶜAlid and Shīᶜite agenda. He puts ᶜAlī at the center of most of the reported conversion narratives: ᶜAlī both praises the significance of a companion’s conversion and denounces the compromised conversion of the enemy, Muᶜāwiya. Around the figure of ᶜAlī, Naṣr contrasts genuine and inauthentic conversions, advancing his religious inclination and political views. Like Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim, Hishām ibn al-Kalbī (d. 204/819) and al-Wāqidī (d. ca. 207/823) distinguish between sincere and insincere conversions throughout their accounts. They use the term ḥasun islāmuh (or its feminine form, islāmuhā) several times to commend genuine conversion.310 In some cases, sincere conversion is evidenced by its subsequent virtuous and praiseworthy deeds, including destroying idols, paying back debts, or building mosques.311 These positive cases reflect conversion themes exemplifying
307 The phrase is mentioned three times in Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim, Waqᶜat Ṣiffīn, 215–216. 308 Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim, Waqᶜat Ṣiffīn, 530. Al-Ṭūsī places him among those companions who narrated on Muhammad’s authority. Al-Ṭūsī, Rijāl, entry #224 p. 38. Al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 1:138 (Khabbāb was one of the awwalūn, i.e., earliest to convert), 3:562–564 (persecuted for his conversion); al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 2:323; Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 3:121–123 (converted early before Muhammad entered dār ibn al-arqam, and Khabbāb was from al-mustaḍᶜafūn persecuted to abandon Islam); Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ṭabaqāt, 1:48, 1:214 (companion of the Prophet who lived in Kūfa); Ibn Manda, Maᶜrifat, 1:485–486 (the sixth to convert); Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, Istīᶜāb, 2:437–438 (early to convert and was persecuted); Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 2:147 (awwal man aẓhar islāmuh after Muhammad and Abu Bakr). On persecution of converts, see Gibb, Mohammedanism, 42. 309 Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim, Waqᶜat Ṣiffīn, 214. 310 Ibn al-Kalbī presents the theme of genuine conversion using the phrase ḥasun islāmuh in his reference to ᶜUmar ibn al-Musabbaḥ, who converted at the age of 150 and demonstrated a virtuous kind of Islam. Ibn al-Kalbī, Nasab Maᶜadd, 1:239. Al-Kalbī is concerned with conversion at old age, as he also mentions the incident of an elderly man, Marawān, who converted as “an old man.” Ibn al-Kalbī, Nasab, 1:425–426. Al-Wāqidi provides eight references in total on ḥasun al-islām, six related to men, and two referencing women: al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 1:15 (al-Ḥakam ibn Kaysān); 1:77 (Ḥayzūm); 1:230 (Nisṭās); 1:409 (unidentified); 2:675 (Abū Shīm al-Mirrī); 3:955 (Mālik ibn ᶜAwf); for the two women 1:357 (Māwiyya); 2:709 (Ṣafiyya). 311 Ibn al-Kalbī emphasizes destroying and burning al-aṣnām (idols), as in the case of the Thaqīf and Daws tribes, in which Muhammad sent converts back to their own tribes with the aim of destroying idols: Kitāb al-aṣnām, 1:16–17 (Thaqīf), 1:37 (Daws). Similarly, al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:870– 871 (Muslims destroying idols with examples of ᶜIkrima, Jubayr, and Hind bint ᶜUtba); 3:1030 (Ukaydar ibn ᶜAbd al-Malik, the Christian king of Kinda); 3:980 (Banū al-Muṣṭaliq converted and built mosques).
Establishing Pro-ᶜ Abbāsid Orthodoxy 157 conversion topoi of significance.312 This is contrasted, for instance, with narratives focusing on inauthentic acceptance of Islam or reluctance in accepting it. Al-Wāqidī writes of the people of Thaqīf, who were reluctant to convert to Islam as it forbids wine, adultery, and worshipping idols; eventually, they converted only to create a treaty with Muhammad.313 The account of the Thaqīf people is a clear example of a reluctant and negotiated conversion, which fits neatly in topoi of compromise. Insincere conversion appears also in al-Waqidī’s account of Abū Sufyān’s acceptance of Islam, which reflects al-Wāqidī’s anti-Umayyad, pro-ᶜAlid, and pro-ᶜAbbāsid inclinations.314 Abū Sufyān is depicted negatively. His conversion appears as an act of cowardice. He is reluctant to accept Islam. He does not willingly acknowledge Muhammad’s prophethood.315 Overall, he is a terrified, weak, and defeated enemy, who converted merely to save his life after a humiliating experience.316 He mainly converted as he sought “honor and pride” over genuine conversion.317 Al-Wāqidī contrasts the depiction of Abū Sufyān’s reluctance and cowardice with two esteemed portrayals in the same narrative: the hero ᶜAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib leading a majestic procession of Muslim warriors, and al-ᶜAbbās ibn ᶜAbd al-Muṭṭalib threatening and cursing Abū Sufyān several times,
312 See Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:294, 317, 320 (conversion followed by persecution); 2:587 (conversion followed by preaching to his people of Azd, and fought in jihad with Jurash); 2:229 (Nuᶜaym converted and helped Muhammad by weakening the confederates). Ibn Hishām emphasizes the good deeds following conversion as evidence of its genuineness. 313 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 3:966–968, where they were persistent to keep their major idol, and Muhammad refused. 314 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:814–823. For al-Wāqidī’s religious and political inclinations, see my earlier discussion, and also Petersen, ᶜAlī, 88, 89, 121. 315 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:814–823. 316 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:814–823. Abū Sufyān was willing to declare “there is no god but Allah,” yet was reluctant to acknowledge the second part of the Shahada, “and Muhammad is his messenger.” He was humiliated several times by al-ᶜAbbās and ᶜUmar and was terrified by the number of Muslim warriors, their weapons and horses. He was also frightened after hearing the soldiers’ takbīr (Allāhu-akbar) and the loud sound of the adhān (call to prayer). For a study of the ᶜAbbāsid apologetics against the Umayyads, see Lassner, Islamic; Borrut, Entre, 81. Rudolf Sellheim argues that Abū Sufyān’s humiliating experience is ᶜAbbāsid propaganda to portray the Umayyads as being less loyal to Islam. See Sellheim, “Prophet,” 33–91; Mu’nis, Tanqiyat uṣūl al-tārīkh al-islāmī, 53ff. See also Brown, Muhammad, 87; Lassner, Middle East, 314, concerning the Sīra’s depiction of Abū Sufyān. 317 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:814–823; note that Abū Sufyān was one of the mu’allafa qulūbuhum. See Ed., “al-Mu’allafa Ḳulūbuhum,” EI2, 7:254, where he and his sons Muᶜāwiya and Yazīd, among other Bedouin chiefs from the Hijaz, received benefits in exchange for converting. On the mu’allafa, more shortly. It is important to note that the list of the mu’allafa qulūbuhum is given by ᶜAbbāsid writers, which means it should be viewed as naturally less favorable of the Umayyad figures. See Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 2:492–493; Ibn Hishām and Ibn Isḥāq, Life, 294–295; al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 3:939. For a contemporary defense of Muᶜāwiya, see the Salafi study of the Egyptian scholar Shiḥāta Muḥammad Ṣaqr, Muᶜāwiya ibn Abī Sufyān, amīr al-mu’minīn wa kātib waḥy al-nabī al-amīn, 157ff.
158 Conversion to Islam coercing him to convert.318 Both ᶜAlī and al-ᶜAbbās are important figures for al-Wāqidī’s Shīᶜite and pro-ᶜAbbāsid agenda.319 Al-Wāqidī contrasts the Umayyad Abū Sufyān with ᶜAlī and al-ᶜAbbās and utilizes the theme of insincere conversion to portray the Umayyads negatively by describing their major historical figure as an inauthentic Muslim who chiefly sought gain, honor, and pride. In the same narrative, moreover, important figures for the ᶜAlids and ᶜAbbāsids are highlighted and praised. Abū Sufyān’s conversion in this account differs from Umayyad-era reports, such as those of al-Zuhrī and Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba.320 The Umayyad-era accounts do not describe Abū Sufyān’s conversion as a cowardly action to save his life, but as a thoughtful process of contemplation which resulted in conversion. We do not find literary features of humiliation in al-Zuhrī’s and Mūsā’s accounts. It is evident that al-Wāqidī is anti-Umayyad, pro-ᶜAlid, and pro-ᶜAbbāsid. Insincere conversion, as a literary theme, is therefore utilized to serve the historian’s opinions and religio-political views. Al-Wāqidī describes more insincere conversions by using the repeated phrase for people who accepted Islam ᶜalā shakkin wa irtiyāb (on doubt and distrust), as he refers to converts who doubted Islam, including al-ᶜĀṣ ibn Munabbih and seven young men from the Quraysh.321 The same is reflected in a narrative of eight people from ᶜUrayna: They arrived at Medina and converted after meeting the Prophet, but they were later found inauthentic in their conversion, and were killed.322 The report emphasizes that, after they adopted Islam, they complained to Muhammad that they did not like Medina, then abandoned Islam and tortured a Muslim man. The incident of the people of ᶜUrayna represents not only insincere conversion but also reversion from Islam, which is another theme of compromised acceptance of Islam used repeatedly by al-Wāqidī. He mentions ᶜAbdullāh ibn Khaṭal
318 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:814–823. 319 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:814–823. For another ᶜAbbāsid account, see Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 2:396, where Abū Sufyān is called mushrik najis (unclean associater); Ibn Hishām and Ibn Isḥāq, Life, 547–548. 320 Compare with Chapter 2, and see Zuhrī 66; Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 269–273. On the bias against the Umayyads, see Mu’nis, Tanqiyat uṣūl al-tārīkh, 53ff.; Borrut, Entre, 6, 8–9. On the anti-Umayyad “pious opposition,” see Watt, Muhammad, 73–75, 348–353. 321 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 1:35, 1:72, respectively. Even ᶜUmar is reported to have doubted Islam and Muhammad after the Ḥudaybiyya treaty, yet reportedly he acknowledged he was mistaken and declared “no conquest is greater than the Ḥudaybiyya.” Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:607. 322 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:569, where the eight men adopted Islam yet complained to Muhammad as they did not like Medina. When Muhammad sent them out with all that they needed for the road, they abandoned Islam and tortured the man sent with them. On this incident, see Abou El Fadl, Rebellion, 49ff.
Establishing Pro-ᶜ Abbāsid Orthodoxy 159 and Miqyas ibn Ṣubāba, who abandoned Islam after their conversions.323 He also refers to ᶜAbdullāh ibn Abī Sarḥ, who abandoned Islam and reverted to Judaism.324 In his Kitāb al-ridda, al-Wāqidī reiterates the theme of reversion in his reports on Ṭulayḥa ibn Khuwaylid, who reverted and claimed prophethood, as well as ᶜUyayna ibn Ḥiṣn, who abandoned Islam altogether and was rebuked by ᶜUmar.325 Insincere conversion is again presented by al-Wāqidī in the story of ᶜUyayna ibn Badr, which was a case of al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum (those whose hearts were to be reconciled).326 ᶜUyayna was one of those who embraced Islam after Muhammad offered him rewards, including gold and camels. According to al-Wāqidī, during the raid of al-Ṭā’if, ᶜUyayna faked his conversion, lied to Muhammad, and spied as a double-agent between Muhammad and the people of al-Ṭā’if. When Muhammad discovered ᶜUyayna’s lies and confronted him, he reportedly repented.327 ᶜUyayna’s greed as a motive for accepting Islam reflects one more theme within the topoi of compromised conversion. Conversion for material gain occurs throughout al- Wāqidī’s accounts. Khubayb ibn Yasāf wanted to assist Muhammad in fighting to gain spoils, but the Prophet refused, asserting that only Muslims could fight alongside him.
323 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:859, 2:861, respectively. On Muslims converting back to Christianity under the Umayyads and ᶜAbbāsids, see Sahner, “Swimming,” 265–284; Tannous, Making, 332ff. 324 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:865. Throughout the narrative, ᶜAbdullāh ibn Abī Sarḥ is presented as kāfir murtadd (an infidel and apostate), 2:787; killed due to Muhammad’s order, 2:825; a writer of al-waḥy (revelations) for Muhammad, 2:855; ᶜUthmān interceded for him after he converted, 2:857, 2:865. A similar report is found in Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba 275. 325 Al-Wāqidī, Kitāb al-ridda, 1:49, 1:95, respectively. 326 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 3:933. For the term al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum, see my explanation of the case of Ṣafwān in Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba’s accounts in Chapter 2. Crone, Meccan, 214. The term could be rendered “those whose hearts have not been reconciled” or “those whose hearts were to be reconciled.” See Ed., “al-Mu’allafa Ḳulūbuhum,” EI2, 7:254, where the term means “those whose hearts are won over,” and it is “applied to those former opponents of the Prophet Muḥammad who are said to have been reconciled to the cause of Islam by presents of 100 or 50 camels from Muḥammad’s share.” See Watt, Muhammad, 73–75, 348–353, where he writes, “The suggestion is that it was only this substantial gift that made these men accept Islam” (348). Franz Rosenthal calls al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum the sympathizers of Muhammad. Rosenthal, Man versus Society, 404–405. On this term, see also Bearman et al., Islamic, 128–129. 327 Al-Wāqidī’s Maghāzī has a lengthy account on ᶜUyayna: 3:928 (ᶜUyayna deserves hellfire, according to Muhammad); 3:933 (Abū Bakr and ᶜUmar wanted to smite ᶜUyayna’s neck); 3:946 (Muhammad gave him one hundred camels to win his heart). On ᶜUyayna, see Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 21:405 (ᶜUyayna was among al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum); al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 1:391 (Muhammad gave ᶜUyayna gold), 2:603 (and one hundred camels), 3:285 (labeled among al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum); al- Dhahabī, Siyar, sira 2:162 (ᶜUyayna was one of al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum on the conquest of Mecca); sira 2:209 (he deceived and lied to Muhammad); sira 2:216 (he received one hundred camels from Muhammad); sira 2:339 (he also received gold for entering Islam). For a secondary study, see ᶜAbd al-Karīm, Shadwu al-rabāba, 1:97ff.
160 Conversion to Islam Khubayb subsequently converted.328 Conversion here does not appear to involve religious convictions; it is, instead, a declaration of submission to authority. Similarly, al-Wāqidī reports the case of one man from Juzām and another from ᶜAbd al-Qays who converted mainly due to the promised spoils of war.329 Ṣafwān supposedly converted immediately after seeing Muhammad’s abundance of spoils, declaring, “Only a prophet would be delighted of such an abundance.”330 Lust for possessions drives insincere conversion. Like Ṣafwān, al-Wāqidī mentions al-Ḥajjāj ibn ᶜIlāṭ, who converted to gain spoils yet kept his conversion secret to ensure his wife in Mecca would still give him the money he deserved.331 It is evident that classical Muslim historians emphasize cases of disingenuous conversions. Insincere conversion occurred not only for material gain but also for survival and saving one’s possessions. Al-Wāqidī reports that, in the Qarada raid, Furāt ibn Ḥayyān was taken captive by the Muslims. He was instructed, “Accept Islam or you would be killed”; consequently, “he converted and was spared.”332 Here, we see the theme of conversion merely to save one’s life. Unlike claims advanced by modern and contemporary apologists, classical Muslims are not reluctant to portray fake conversions, forced conversions, or submission to political power as a sign of religious change.333 In the same vein, the people of Banū al-Naḍīr reportedly refused to convert to Islam; thus, Muhammad expelled them from their homes, although a few of them, including Yāmīn ibn ᶜUmayr and Abū Saᶜd ibn Wahb, converted to avoid this punishment.334 At Khaybar, Muhammad met an unnamed Arab and offered 328 Al-Wāqidī, Kitāb al-ridda, 1:47; this is compared in the same sentence with Qays ibn Muḥarrath, who postponed conversion until later. Al-Wāqidi reported in another situation, however, that Suhayl ibn ᶜAmr had not yet converted when he received amnesty and went as a soldier with Muhammad to Ḥunayn (2:847). It appears that Muhammad enforced different measures regarding people raiding with him. 329 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 3:1032, 1:409, respectively. The incident of ᶜAbd al-Qays includes a companion preaching Islam to the man who converted after hearing of the possible spoils gained from the enemy. 330 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:855. Ṣafwān was one of al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum and was mentioned also by Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba in Chapter 2. On how Muhammad used incentives to win over Ṣafwān’s heart, see ᶜAbd al-Karīm, Shadwu al-rabāba, 1:92ff. 331 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:702–705. Al-Ḥajjāj ibn ᶜIlāṭ said to Muhammad, “if [my wife] knew I converted, she would not give me my money.” 332 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 1:198. A similar account of another captive who converted after being caught can be found in (2:728). The narrative of Rayḥāna in some sense reflects coerced conversion, as the woman rejected Islam yet later converted to marry Muhammad, even though it is reported, “she rejected all but Judaism” (2:520). 333 For traditional Muslim arguments on these incidents, see Ibrahim, Stated, 1–5. 334 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 1:373. The two men wondered, “What should we do to secure our lives and possessions?” They then converted to Islam. For the rejection of Banū al-Naḍīr of Muhammad’s call to Islam, see 1:366, where they responded to Muhammad, “We will never leave the Torah and the covenant of Moses.”
Establishing Pro-ᶜ Abbāsid Orthodoxy 161 him three options, stating, “If you do not accept Islam, you will be strangled to death.” The man accepted Islam instantly.335 After Muhammad’s reported victory in the conquest of Mecca, he dispatched Khālid ibn al-Walīd to call Arabs to Islam in areas surrounding Mecca. When he reached the people of Banū Jadhīma in lower Mecca, they declared they had already accepted Islam and knew that Muhammad conquered Mecca; however, Khālid imprisoned all the people and ordered their execution.336 The conversion of Banū Jadhīma indicates a tribal submission to save their lives and possessions, but Khālid, a tribal commander, not a religious preacher, “wanted to take revenge because of al-aḥqād al-qadīma (old grudges).”337 Like Khālid, ᶜAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib was reportedly sent to al- Fals, where he took all the people captive: “those who accepted Islam were spared, and those who refused were beheaded.”338 In the narrative of ᶜAlī’s raid, there was a black slave from Ṭayy named Aslam. ᶜAlī ordered Aslam to declare the double Shahada, but the slave refused several times, even after seeing people tied up as prisoners. Aslam declared, inn al-jazaᶜ min al-sayf la-lu’m (fearing the sword is wickedness), implying his reluctance to convert. When ᶜAlī finally ordered him, “convert and follow Muhammad’s religion,” the slave yielded, converted, and survived.339 The theme of accepting Islam to save one’s life reflects topoi of compromised conversion and occurs repeatedly in historical accounts. The theme of accepting Islam to save one’s life appears repeatedly in relation to two other themes, namely conversion on (or after) the day of the conquest of Mecca, which includes collective conversion.340 In a sense, it is also 335 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:641. After Khaybar, Muhammad went to Wādī al-Qurā and called people to Islam so that “they would keep their lives and possessions.” When they refused, eleven of the men were killed consecutively, one after the other (2:710). 336 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 3:876. The people stated, “We are Muslim. We have prayed, believed in Muhammad, built mosques and called to prayer in them.” 337 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 3:876. For sources and studies on Banū Jadhīma, see Ibrahim, Stated, 155. See also Haykal, who, like most traditionalists, defends Khālid’s actions. Haykal, Ḥayāt, 430. For a scholarly critical study of Haykal’s work on Muhammad’s biography, see Wessels, Modern; 338 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 3:987. 339 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 3:988. This is also an example of slaves converting to Islam; however, it does not reflect topoi of significance, as the slave was not willing to convert, but rather sought to save his life. 340 On conversion on the day of conquest, see Chapter 2 on al-ṭulaqā’ (the set-free persons) and al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum. See Bosworth, “Ṭulakā’,” EI2, 10:603; Urban, “The Identity Crisis of Abū Bakra,” in Lineaments, ed. Cobb, 125–126, where she discusses the ṭulaqā’ and mawālī. For collective conversion, see Richard Bulliet, “Conversion,” in Princeton Encyclopedia, ed. Böwering et al., 119, where he writes, “The Aws and Khazraj tribes of Medina proclaimed themselves Muslims in a treaty concluded before most of them had ever seen or heard the Prophet. Conversion here is collective without significant individual preparation,” and finally concludes, “Thus conversion to Islam, both generally and locally, remains hard to define, hard to measure, and hard to explain” (119).
162 Conversion to Islam linked to coerced conversion.341 After the victory of Muhammad over the Meccans in 8/630, many accepted Islam only to avoid the sword. Conversion, in many cases, was expected to be a collective act of many people at once.342 Al-Wāqidī reports several instances of conversion on the day of the conquest of Mecca: Abū Sufyān called all the people of Quraysh to accept Islam; when the notable Burayda ibn al-Ḥuṣayb accepted Islam, many of his people converted; Umm Hāni’ converted to Islam; al-Ḥārith ibn Hishām ibn al-Mughīra was a mushrik who fought Muhammad at Badr and Uḥud, yet converted on the day of conquest.343 This acceptance of Islam conveys political submission, as evidenced in the narrative of Abū Sufyān ibn al-Ḥārith and ᶜAbdullāh ibn Umayya, who kept begging Muhammad to accept them; finally, after the intercession of Umm Salma, Muhammad agreed to meet them and they converted.344 It should be noted that, in examining conversion narratives, my emphasis is on the representation of the experience rather than what might have actually happened.345 Al-Wāqidī describes groups and delegations which embraced Islam collectively: Thaqīf, Hawāzin, Dūma, Ayla, and Taymā’.346 He summarizes the wave of collective acceptance as aslamat al-ᶜarab kulluhā (all Arabs converted).347 This depicts conversion as a tribal decision of changing political loyalty rather than a heart conviction leading to religious change. Like al- Wāqidī, Ibn al-Kalbī writes of “the conversion of all the Arabs” on the day of the conquest of Mecca, and the manner by which delegations came to convert in front of Muhammad.348 Here, too, we see how Muslim historians present “conversion” as a political surrender of a mass number of people. Ibn al-Kalbī observes that various clans accepted Islam collectively or as a result of the conversion of one member: Khuzāᶜā ibn ᶜAbd Nuhm heard of Muhammad, 341 For distinguishing conversion from the stories about conversion, see Szpiech, Conversion, 9ff. 342 We should note that, as Szpiech observes, conversion can mean many things. See Szpiech, Conversion, 9ff.; Simonsohn, “Conversion, Exemption,” 196. 343 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:823, 2:782, 2:848, and Kitāb al-ridda, 1:42, respectively. 344 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:811. 345 See Genette, Narrative, 25–31, where “histoire” refers to story, “what really happened,” and “récit” is the narrative representing fiction or actual events. For a survey on literature and theories on narratology, see Gerald Prince, “Surveying Narratology,” in What Is Narratology?, ed. Kindt and Müller, 1–16. When I consider collective conversion or conversion to save one’s life as inauthentic, it is because I compare them to the reported conversions of individuals who accept Islam in a seemingly genuine manner, although I understand that “conversion to Islam may mean different things and was achieved in different ways.” See Simonsohn, “Conversion, Exemption,” 196; Szpiech, Conversion, 9ff. 346 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 3:927–932, 3:955, 3:1031, respectively. On the delegations, see al-ᶜUmarī, al-Sīra al-nabawiyya al-ṣaḥīḥa, 541–546. 347 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 3:962, 3:1031. 348 Ibn al-Kalbī, Kitāb al-aṣnām, 1:35.
Establishing Pro-ᶜ Abbāsid Orthodoxy 163 converted to Islam, and, upon his conversion, he “guaranteed the conversion of all his people at Muzayna.”349 This account suggests Khuzāᶜā ensured the conversion of his people because of his influence among them, not because of the significance of a religious message. Similarly, Christian tribes accepted Islam collectively. The notable of the Ghassānids, Yazīd ibn al-Aswad, converted during the Battle of Yarmūk, and a group of his people converted with him.350 Yazīd’s account involves several conversion themes: a notable Christian of a well-known tribe converting to Islam after making a deal with the conquering Arabs, resulting in some of his people converting with him. This is similar to al-Wāqidī’s description of al-Ashᶜath ibn Qays, the chief of Kinda, who came with his entire delegation to Muhammad and accepted Islam as a group.351 With such reports, historians might have aimed to encourage Christians to do the same. It is plausible to argue that, for these Arab individuals and tribes, embracing Islam merely showed loyalty to and solidarity with the Muslim community rather than an affirmative conviction of religious tenets. The modern Muslim historian Aḥmad al-Sharīf convincingly explains that accepting Islam during that time was maẓharan li-dukhūlihim fī al-niẓām al-jadīd wa iqrārihim bi-l-wiḥda al-ᶜarabiyya (a manifestation of their joining into the new system, and their affirmation of the Arabian unity).352 Before moving on from al-Wāqidī’s reports, we should note that his accounts on conversion outnumber those of his predecessors.353 His 349 Ibn al-Kalbī, Kitāb al-aṣnām, 1:39–40. Khuzāᶜā showed his genuine Islam by destroying an idol (1:39). Al-Kalbī also writes of al-Ḥaysumān, who converted after being terrified seeing the dead Meccans at the Battle of Badr (because he brought them to Mecca). Ibn al-Kalbī, Nasab, 2:454. Concerning al-Kalbī’s constructions, Petersen argues that they “are still no more than precursors of the extensive falsifications met with shortly before 800 in Sayf b. Umar—fabrications whose historical absurdity was fully shown up by Wellhausen.” Petersen, ᶜAlī, 78. 350 Ibn al-Kalbī, Nasab, 1:435. Ibn a-Kalbī also writes that Abū Thaᶜlaba of Banū Khashīn accepted Islam and gave the oath of allegiance to Muhammad; consequently, Muhammad sent him to his clan and all accepted Islam. Ibn al-Kalbī, Nasab, 2:690. On the Ghassānids, see Jawwād ᶜAlī, Mufaṣṣal, 6:121–136; Shahid, Byzantium, 3ff. 351 Al-Wāqidī, Kitāb al-ridda, 1:50. On Kinda, see Ibn Ḥazm, Jamharat ansāb al-ᶜarab, 425ff; Jawwād ᶜAlī, Mufaṣṣal, 6:68ff.; Shahid, Byzantium, 78, 116. On al-Ashᶜath, see al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 3:609–610 (Ashᶜath reportedly reverted and then returned back to Islam to save his people); al- Dhahabī, Siyar, 2:37–42; Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 6:99–100 (reverted, then returned to Islam); Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ṭabaqāt, 131, 255 (he was from Yemen and resided in Kūfa as a companion of ᶜAlī); Ibn Ḥabīb, Muḥabbar, 1:291–292, 302 (he participated with ᶜAlī at the Battle of the Camel and Ṣiffīn, and was among the notables at the Yarmūk); Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, Istīᶜāb, 1:133–135 (accepting Islam with his people as a delegation, reverted, then converted again); Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 1:249. 352 Al-Sharīf, Makka wa-l-Madīna, 533. He observes that ahl al-kitāb (Christians and Jews) had to demonstrate “their solidarity” with the new Muslim state by “submitting to it and paying the jizya” (553–554, 524). See also Ibrahim, Stated, 178. 353 Chase Robinson calls this the “gobbling up” phenomenon and defines it as “the integration of monographic works into composite and often very large compilations.” Robinson, Historiography,
164 Conversion to Islam religio-political sympathies are rather obvious. He is pro-ᶜAbbāsid but not anti-Shīᶜite. He is not like the anti-Shīᶜite and pro-Umayyad Sayf ibn ᶜUmar, nor is he openly supportive of Shīᶜism like Sulaym ibn Qays and Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim.354 Around the end of the second/eighth century, the ᶜAbbāsids sought to establish their orthodox tradition while gradually distancing themselves from the ᶜAlids and extreme Shīᶜism. Al-Wāqidī (d. ca. 207/823) was a faithful historian to their standpoint. He operated under the influence of the government of Baghdad, and his moderate pro-ᶜAlid inclinations and anti- Umayyad dispositions are evident in his portrayals of conversion. According to Petersen, the ᶜAbbāsid Caliph al-Ma’mūn was mostly pro-ᶜAlid, which is perhaps one reason why, under his patronage, al-Wāqidī wrote and favored ᶜAlī.355 Like al-Wāqidī, Ibn Hishām (d. 218/833) provides plenty of reports on conversion. Here, to avoid unnecessary repetition, I will contrast their reports and highlight the similarities and the significant differences. In some aspects, Ibn Hishām differs from al-Wāqidī, as each has his own religious and political inclinations. While both served ᶜAbbāsid orthodoxy, they differed on the ᶜAlid matters, which can be gleaned in their reports on conversion. Consider, for instance, Abū Sufyān’s conversion. As discussed earlier, the Sīra is not only anti-Umayyad and pro-ᶜAbbāsid but also anti-ᶜAlid.356 Ibn Hishām depicts Abū Sufyān’s conversion using literary features resembling those of al-Wāqidī, who humiliated Abū Sufyān for his questionable conversion. Nonetheless, unlike al-Wāqidī, Ibn Hishām does not present ᶜAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib as a prestigious commander in Muhammad’s army.357 Ibn Hishām does not seek to elevate ᶜAlī or his cause. It is evident that, while both serve ᶜAbbāsid orthodoxy, they deviate in their support of the ᶜAlids. Once again, we see how the narrative of the insincere conversion of Abū Sufyān is used to 34. Robinson states that this phenomenon “is a crucial feature of ninth-and tenth-century tradition, and goes some way towards explaining why so much of tradition’s earlier layers have fallen away” (34–35). In his assessment, this phenomenon explains “why we are left with what al-Balādhurī and al-Ṭabarī preserved of al-Madā’inī’s work, rather than al-Madā’inī’s work itself, and with what Ibn Isḥāq-Ibn Hishām preserved of al-Zuhrī’s work, rather than al-Zuhrī’s work itself ” (35). 354 Petersen writes, “On the whole, Wāqidī’s rendering represents a noticeable shift as compared with his predecessors; the strongly anti-Shiite [like Sayf] attitude is replaced by a positive evaluation of ᶜAlī and only the denunciation of the Umayyads continues unabated.” Petersen, ᶜAlī, 86. 355 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 88. 356 See the discussion earlier, and Sellheim, “Prophet,” 33–91; Brown, Muhammad, 87; Hibri, “Redemption,” 241–265; Lassner, Middle East, 314. 357 Compare Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 2:396ff; al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:814–823. Ibn Hishām depicts ᶜAlī, in Abū Sufyān’s conversion, as an aggressive man rebuking and refusing to help Abū Sufyān (2:396), and a man who does things in disobedience to Muhammad (2:397).
Establishing Pro-ᶜ Abbāsid Orthodoxy 165 serve the political and religious views of the historians. Because it relates to a major Umayyad leader, the conversion is an opportunity to advance legitimacy claims of ᶜAbbāsid political power. But Ibn Hishām and al-Wāqidī agree on another matter. They both introduce a new conversion theme related to the genuine acceptance of Islam: changing names upon conversion.358 This theme reflects sincere conversion, as presumably the new name provides a clear distinction between one’s past and one’s new life. According to Ibn Hishām and al-Wāqidī, a Meccan convert changed his name from ᶜAbd ᶜAmr to ᶜAbd al-Raḥmān and rejected any attempt by Meccan pagans to use the old name to tell of his conversion.359 Ibn Hishām also writes of Zayd al-Khayl, chief of Banū Ṭayy, who converted, then Muhammad changed his name to Zayd al-Khayr.360 The two names share all the letters except the last; al-Khayl means “the horses,” while al-Khayr refers to goodness and benevolence. Later historians and narrators will continue using this theme.361 Thus, whether converts change their names or Muhammad does, it reflects a change in life as a result of conversion. Similar to the theme of changing names upon conversion, Ibn Hishām and al-Wāqidī both establish a theme of secret conversion, which reflects, in some instances, a shrewd wisdom in hiding one’s conversion, and, in others, an inauthentic acceptance of Islam. Al-Wāqidī describes ᶜUthmān ibn Abī al-ᶜĀṣ as a young man who converted in secret and kept learning the Qur’ān from Muhammad, who admired and loved him.362 Similarly, Ibn Hishām states that al-ᶜAbbās had actually converted sometime after the hijra, but kept his conversion secret because of his desire for unity, as well as his concern for his many possessions.363 Undoubtedly, this report of al-ᶜAbbās’s conversion 358 The theme seems similar to biblical traditions, as we encounter it with Abram and Sarai, among others. See Horsley, “Name,” 1–17, where he studies “the evidence of names and name-change” in relation to “changes in religious adherence in antiquity”; Crook, Reconceptualising, 231 and 231 n.82, where he examines “name change in the context of manumission” and observes that name change indicates loyalty and conversion. See also Thiessen, Contesting, 38; Sarna, Genesis, 124, where he states, “In light of the great importance with which the Bible invests name-giving generally, a change of name is of major significance and symbolizes the transformation of character and destiny.” See also, though to a lesser extent, Leone, Religious, 74. 359 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:631; al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 1:82–83. 360 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 2:577. Muhammad changed Khayl to Khayr, “horses” to “goodness,” presumably to emphasize the new life of the convert. 361 See, for instance, al-Fasawī, Maᶜrifa, 2:428; Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ta’rīkh, 1:93; Ibn Qutayba al- Dīnawarī, Maᶜārif, 1:333. 362 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 3:966. 363 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:646, where al-ᶜAbbās is portrayed as concerned about his people; he hated to disagree with his tribe. It should be noted that, at the ᶜAqaba Pledge, Ibn Hishām states that al- ᶜAbbās was still mushrik (pagan, associater); see 1:441. Undoubtedly, al-ᶜAbbās is a very important figure for the ᶜAbbāsids, to whom Ibn Hishām writes.
166 Conversion to Islam aims to serve ᶜAbbāsid orthodoxy by establishing a pre-Badr date of conversion for their ancestor.364 Finally, Ibn Hishām highlights the genuine conversions of men and women, yet, unlike al-Wāqidī, he also describes sincere conversion of an entire delegation as ḥasun islāmuhum.365 In contrast, in accounts similar to those of al-Wāqidī, Ibn Hishām describes inauthentic conversions by using themes centered on reversion or the acceptance of Islam merely to obtain power or materialistic gain, to avoid death, or to join the victorious on the day of the conquest of Mecca, individually or collectively.366 This is evident, for instance, in the case of Abū al-ᶜĀṣ ibn al-Rabīᶜ, Muhammad’s son-in-law, who converted to save his possessions and restore his wife.367 The narrative of Abū al-ᶜĀṣ is rich with literary details, including how Islam initially separated him from his wife (Muhammad’s daughter Zaynab), yet Muhammad was unable to enforce the separation before the hijra, so she remained with her husband while he was still a mushrik (associater). Abū al-ᶜĀṣ was among the prisoners of Badr, and Zaynab interceded for him with Muhammad. He lost 364 Compare the Umayyad-era account of al-Zuhrī 66 to the ᶜAbbāsid-era account of Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:646. Herbert Berg writes, “What is clear is that [al-ᶜAbbās’s participation at Badr] was a source of embarrassment and several ᶜAbbāsid era historians made a concerted effort to mitigate or obviate that embarrassment.” Berg, “ᶜAbbāsid,” 36. See Ibn Hishām and Ibn Isḥāq, Life, 338; Ṭabarī, Ta’rīkh, 1290ff. We will study al-ᶜAbbās’s conversion in more detail in the following chapter. 365 Ibn Hishām, Kitāb al-Tījān, 1:175 (Hūd), 1:389 (Ṣāliḥ), 1:435 (Sulaymān), and 1:435–436 (a woman convert to marry Sulaymān); Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:453 (ᶜAmr ibn al-Jamūḥ), 1:510 (Abū Qays), 1:605 (al-Ḥakam ibn Kaysān), 2:491 (Mālik ibn ᶜAwf), 2:587 (ᶜAbdullāh al-Azdī). For an entire delegation with genuine conversion, see Ibn Hishām, al-Sīra, 2:577 (the delegation of Ṭayy, all of them converted and ḥasun islāmuhum). 366 For reversion, see Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:223 (ᶜUbaydallāh ibn Jaḥsh abandoned Islam in Abyssinia); 1:398 (many abandoned Islam after the incident of Muhammad’s Night Journey); 1:398 (Abū ᶜUbayda al-Naḥawī apostatized); also Ibn Hishām, Kitāb al-Tījān, 1:387 (Shihāb ibn Khalīfa). For conversion to obtain power or wealth, Ibn Hishām refers to the same incidents mentioned by al-Wāqidī, including al-Ḥajjāj ibn ᶜIlāṭ, ᶜIkrima, and Ṣafwān. See Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 2:347, 2:418, respectively. For conversion to avoid death, 1:214 (people of Banū Qurayẓa convert to save their “bloods, possessions, and relatives”); 1:663 (ᶜUmayr ibn Wahb came to Mecca and harmed many people, forcing them to accept Islam, which they did); 2:192 (only two men of Banū al-Naḍīr converted to save their possessions); 2:592–594 (Khālid ibn al-Walīd raided Banū al-Ḥārith, letting them choose between death and Islam, all of them converted, and Muhammad stated he would have killed them if they did not convert). For conversion on the day of the conquest of Mecca, see Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 2:277–278 (ᶜAmr and Khālid shortly before the conquest of Mecca); 2:406 (Abū Bakr’s father); 2:409 (ᶜAbdullāh ibn Abī Sarḥ). For collective conversion, see Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:414, 2:542 (all the people of al-Ṭā’if); 2:483,559 (Thaqīf); 2:488 (Hawāzin); 2:567 (year of delegations); 2:588 (Jurash delegation). Note that, according to al-Wāqidi, ᶜAmr ibn al-ᶜĀṣ was reluctant to accept Islam and said, “if all Quraysh converted, I will not.” Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 2:742. It appears that, for ᶜAmr and Khālid, conversion was a decision to join the victorious camp, especially when we consider that ᶜAmr converted after he spoke with al-Najāshī, who declared that Islam was going to surpass every other religion (Maghāzī, 2:742–745). ᶜAmr then met Khālid, who stated, “all people now entered Islam and if we wait our necks will be smitten.” Both ᶜAmr and Khālid then converted, in what appears an inauthentic conversion. 367 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:658; al-Wāqidī also mentions it in his Maghāzī, 2:554.
Establishing Pro-ᶜ Abbāsid Orthodoxy 167 his merchandise after a raid against his caravan by the Muslims, and his wife, again, spoke with Muhammad for him. He then converted after he received his possessions. His conversion represents a negotiation where his wife and money were returned to him because he abandoned the Quraysh and his previous life.368 This narrative demonstrates reluctance to convert and conversion for gain. It is evident that Muslim historians serve as religious scholars who establish a dogmatic precedent. However, it is worth noting that they are not often concerned with indicating a compelling religious conviction before conversion.
Conclusion In this chapter, I focused on the early ᶜAbbāsid period (ca. 133/750–218/833) and analyzed conversion topoi in pre-miḥna historical works. It consisted of two sections. In the first, I examined the available biographical data of the authors of these works, in order to situate their historiographical accounts within their historical context and to determine their religious and sociopolitical views. In the second, I analyzed conversion themes in the sources under study. I demonstrated the existence of repeated conversion themes, which initially appeared in pre-ᶜAbbāsid accounts and flourished under the early ᶜAbbāsids. I showed how the ᶜAbbāsid historians were heavily influenced by their religious and political views. Their conversion accounts were a product of their deep involvement in the political agenda and religious debates of the day. Most of these historians served to establish a tradition which suited pro- ᶜAbbāsid orthodoxy. This was evident once I contrasted ᶜAbbāsid depictions with pre-ᶜAbbāsid portrayals. I detected how the theme of Christians and Jews converting to Islam can serve in advancing various goals, as it can emphasize Islam’s supremacy or operate as a polemical device against ahl al-kitāb. I explained why some themes appear more frequently under the ᶜAbbāsids, as compared to Umayyad-era accounts. In particular, I considered how ᶜAbbāsid-era historians paid more attention to establishing a distinct image of Muslims as a unique community, in contrast to other existing faiths. This is evident in the more frequent 368 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:658; 1:652 (separation between the man and wife); 1:653 (he was a prisoner and his wife interceded for him); 1:658 (losing his possessions); 1:658 (finally his conversion).
168 Conversion to Islam reports affirming Muhammad’s prophethood, the Qur’ān’s eloquence, and Islam’s persuasion. Moreover, I indicated how the awā’il in conversion, as a theme, is important to history writers, to the extent that they devoted different works—not only accounts—to promote this theme. Furthermore, I contrasted Ibn Hishām and al- Wāqidī, especially their portrayals of Umayyad figures. I demonstrated how both of them serve ᶜAbbāsid orthodoxy but deviate in their support of ᶜAlī. I compared pro-ᶜAlid Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim to anti-ᶜAlid Ibn Hishām in their treatment of ᶜAlī’s conversion and showed how they both advance their religio-political agenda. Finally, I argued that, for the ᶜAbbasids to enforce their political power, they had to control historical portrayals, including conversion depictions of key figures such as al-ᶜAbbās, ᶜAlī, and Muᶜāwiya. It is my contention that these conversion themes were a product of their political, social, and religious contexts. Muslim historians applied interpretive choices in their portrayal of conversion narratives and advanced reoccurring themes of conversion in order to satisfy their personal opinions and religious causes. These interpretive choices, I argue, were not merely literary constructions; they were a clear indicator of contemporary religious debates and sociopolitical disputes.
4 Attempts at Compromise Conversion Themes in Islamic Historiography in the Aftermath of the Miḥna (218/833–299/911)
Binges, frolics, and myths were highly desirable in the days of the ᶜAbbāsid caliphs, especially al- Muqtadir; consequently, copyists fabricated writings. —Ibn al-Nadīm (d. ca. 385/995) The one who loathes the Arabs will be loathed by Allah. —Prophet Muhammad, according to Ibn ᶜAbd Rabbih (d. 328/940)
In this chapter, I focus on the post-miḥna period (218/833–299/911).1 My goal is to trace conversion themes in historiographical works written during this period and to examine how the religio-political situation during and after the miḥna shaped literary representations. I will achieve this goal in this chapter’s four sections. In “The Miḥna and the Caliphal Fight for Religious Authority,” I set the historical background of the period under scrutiny by highlighting various scholarly debates around the miḥna (inquisition) and its aftermath. While 1 First epigraph: Kānat al-asmār wa-l-khurāfāt marghūban fīhā mushtahāt fī ayyām khulafā’ banī al-ᶜAbbās wa-siyyamā fī ayyām al-Muqtadir, faṣannaf al-warrāqūn wa kadhabū. Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 308. See Amīn, Ḍuḥā al-islām, 1:119ff.; Zaydān, Ta’rīkh, 5:695ff. On warrāqūn (copyists), see Ibn Khallikān, Wafayāt, 4:343; 6:127–129, where they both copy and write works; 6:178, where warrāqūn say, “We tell people what they love [to hear].” Second epigraph: Man abghaḍ al-ᶜarab abghaḍah Allāh. According to Ibn ᶜAbd Rabbih, al-ᶜIqd al-farīd, 3:278. Ibn ᶜAbd Rabbih (d. 328/940) is pro-Umayyad. See Ibn al-Faraḍī, Ta’rīkh ᶜulamā’ al-Andalus, 1:49–50; Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam, 1:463ff.; al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 24:221; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 15:283ff. On the religio-political orientation of Kitāb al-ᶜIqd al-farīd, see Toral-Niehoff, “Writing,” 82, where she views the work as “a ‘caliphal’ composition,” “interpreting its conceptual agenda and compositional structure against the background of (neo-) Umayyad caliphal ideology,” and “reads the text as ‘imperialistic’ in its claim to represent Umayyad leadership, as unique and universal, against that of its contemporary rivals, the Abbasids and Fatimids” (82).
Conversion to Islam. Ayman S. Ibrahim, Oxford University Press (2021). © Oxford University Press. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780197530719.003.0004
170 Conversion to Islam I discussed the miḥna briefly in Chapter 1, particularly from the viewpoint of Muᶜtazilism, it is important here to examine how the miḥna both reflected and affected the relationship between the caliphs and the ᶜulamā’ (religious scholars).2 I will explain the consequences of its failure, particularly how this failure elevated ahl al-ḥadīth (traditionists)—and not the caliphs—as the arbiters of religious matters and authority, which prompted attempts at compromise in historical writing.3 In “Post-Miḥna Historians,” I rely on classical Muslim authorities and recent scholarly studies to provide biographical data on the historians of the period under examination. I identify their religious sympathies and political inclinations. I aim to situate their writings within their religious and sociopolitical contexts. This will be crucial as I examine their sources. I should note here that some historians have more data than others. Some are clearer in their religio-political inclinations than others. Thus, some are examined in more depth than others. In “Post-Miḥna Conversion Themes,” I pinpoint conversion themes in the post-miḥna works in order to demonstrate their existence and trace their 2 The term ᶜulamā’ (sg. ᶜālim) refers to scholars in various disciplines, particularly religious scholars in this study. They include muḥaddithūn (ḥadīth experts), jurists, traditionists, theologians, and Qur’ān exegetes. According to Claude Gilliot, in Sunnism, the ᶜulamā’ “are regarded as the guardians, transmitters and interpreters of religious knowledge, of Islamic doctrine and law.” See Gilliot et al., “ᶜUlamā’,” EI2, 10:801ff. For the rise and function of the ᶜulamā’, see Hughes, Muslim, 141ff., where he refers to them as “a group that defined itself largely in terms of its adherence to and interpretation of Muhammad’s Sunna [during the miḥna].” For the meaning of ᶜālim and ᶜulamā’, see “ᶜ.l.m,” in Ibn Manẓūr, Lisān, 12:417ff.; al-Rāzī, Mukhtār al-Ṣaḥḥāḥ, 217; al-Fīrūzābādī, al- Qāmūs al-muḥīṭ, 1140. For ᶜulamā’ in contemporary Islam, see Zaman, Ulama, 38ff., especially as he compares them to premodern ᶜulamā’. 3 For modern studies on the miḥna, see the two important Arabic studies: Rifāᶜī, ᶜAṣr al- Ma’mūn, 1:367ff., 1:395ff.; al-Khuḍarī, al-Dawla, 198–256. See van Ess, Theology, 3:483ff.; Zaman, “Caliphs,” 391–402; Zaman, Religion, 12, 70ff.; Hurvitz, Formation, 113ff.; Hurvitz, “Miḥna,” 17–28; Nawas, “Reexamination,” 615–629; Crone, Medieval, 88, 131; also Crone, Slaves, 77; Crone and Hinds, God’s Caliph, 92–97, 363–385; Naderi, “Absolutist,” 46ff., where he argues that the miḥna was an attempt by the caliph to gain power over religious matters. See the classic works: Patton, Aḥmed Ibn Ḥanbal and the Miḥna, 2–3, 10ff., 52,126–127; Muir and Weir, The Caliphate, 489–501, where they argue that, ideologically, al-Ma’mūn was pro-ᶜAlid and pro- Muᶜtazilite (free will), and politically, he was hated in Baghdad after the murder of al-Amīn. See also Yücesoy, Messianic, 128ff.; Yücesoy, “Seventh,” ch. 1; Nader, “Memory,” 7–41; Hinds, “Miḥna,” EI2, 7:2–6; Petersen, ᶜAlī, 113, 126, 133ff.; Kamaly, “Four,” ch. 3, where he focuses on Isfahan and argues that we should view the miḥna “not simply as a theological dispute, but as a defining moment with political, economic, as well as religious implications.” Lapidus, “Separation”; Cooperson, Al-Ma’mūn; Cooperson, Classical; Melchert, Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal. For an accessible account of the conflict between al-Amīn and al-Ma’mūn, see Jūrjī Zaydān, Al- Amīn wa-l-Ma’mūn, which is a historical fiction explaining the fight between the two brothers from the Arab-Persian lens. Zaydān’s work is now translated into English by Michael Cooperson as The Caliph’s Heirs: Brothers at War: The Fall of Baghdad.
Attempts at Compromise 171 development. While I demonstrate the abundance of conversion references, I will not repeat previous analyses from Chapter 2 (Umayyads) and Chapter 3 (early ᶜAbbāsids). Rather, I will focus on identifying major similarities and highlighting significant differences. In “Attempts at Compromise: Reconciling Trends and Pro-Umayyad Voices,” I will focus on the modifications of conversion themes, inspecting how the aftermath of the miḥna may have shaped literary representations. In particular, I will scrutinize the conversion narratives of three key religio- political Muslim figures—al-ᶜAbbās, Muᶜāwiya, and ᶜAlī—because of their significance to the pro-ᶜAbbāsid, pro-Umayyad, and pro-ᶜAlid claims of legitimacy, respectively. I will then synthesize the findings in a concluding section. My argument in this chapter is two-fold. First, the enforcement of the miḥna reflected the struggle over religious authority between the caliphal power and a group of religious scholars. Its failure resulted in different arrangements of religious authority. This demanded a new phase of understanding and attempts at compromise between the caliphs and the traditionists. These attempts eventually permeated historical writings by affecting literary descriptions, as evidenced in reconciliatory conversion accounts. Second, the post- miḥna historians under study were heavily influenced by their religious and political views.4 The political influence of the ᶜAbbāsids shaped the recording of history, as the framework of Islam’s origins was shaped during this period.5
4 See Petersen, ᶜAlī, 17–20, 50–51, where he concludes, “The formation of the historical tradition consists above all in reflections of the political and religious conflicts of its own age” (50). Robinson, Historiography, 40. The list of post-miḥna historians examined in this chapter is Ibn Saᶜd (d. 230/844), Ibn Sallām al-Jumaḥī (d. 232/847), Ibn Maᶜīn (d. 233/847), Muṣᶜab al-Zubayrī (d. 236/851), Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ (d. 240/854), Ibn Ḥabīb al-Baghdādī (d. 245/895), Zubayr ibn Bakkār (d. 256/870), Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam (d. 257/871), ᶜUmar ibn Shabba (d. 262/875), Ibn Qutayba al-Dīnawarī (d. 276/889), al-Fasawī (d. 277/890), al-Balādhurī (d. ca. 279/892), Ibn Abī Khaythama (d. 279/892), Abū Zurᶜa (d. 281/894), Abū Ḥanīfa al-Dīnawarī (d. ca. 282/895), and al-Yaᶜqūbī (d. ca.292/905). 5 On how the ᶜAbbāsid politics influenced the past, see Borrut, “Vanishing”; Borrut, Entre, 17ff.; Donner, Narratives, 276–282; Petersen, ᶜAlī, 19–20, where he argues that ᶜAbbāsid politics influenced the recording of the origins of Islam, affirming that the historical accounts were shaped by politics and religion. Chase Robinson states that narrators and transmitters “were not simply taking liberties with texts: they were generating the texts themselves.” Robinson, Historiography, 38. See Décobert, Le Mendiant, 34. On how political influence affects literary documentation, see al-ᶜAlawī, Maḥaṭṭāt fī al-tārīkh, 19–20, as he contends that politics and sectarian disputes led historians to forge accounts. See also Hoyland, Seeing, 35, where he argues that historiographical sources were virtually “open.”
172 Conversion to Islam
The Miḥna and the Caliphal Fight for Religious Authority The early ᶜAbbāsīd caliphs established their rule in a religio-political manner, as suggested by their adoption of the Prophet’s mantle as their public clothing and their usage of regnal names for themselves.6 But the matter extends beyond clothes and titles. The caliphs reportedly served as judges, took part in religious disputes, were involved in questions of dogma, and assumed roles of imams.7 We are told that al-Ma’mūn “presented himself as teacher of the community” and “governed religious life by means of edicts; no- one before him had passed so many.”8 The caliphs presented themselves as defenders of the “universalist message of Islam,” which served as the central axis around which social, religious, and political aspects of their caliphal regime revolved.9 Consequently, a significant interest in Islamic writing grew under the patronage of the caliphs. The second ᶜAbbāsid caliph, al-Manṣūr (r. 136/754–158/775), is reported to have initiated and supervised projects to document ḥadīth, fiqh, and tafsīr.10 This is significant in two ways. First, the caliphs sought to assert their role as the religious stewards and guards of the Muslims, not only politically but specifically in religious matters. Second, with the growth of Islamic writing, the influence of the ᶜulamā’ (religious scholars)—particularly the muḥaddithūn (traditionists)—became evident, 6 See al-Wurayyimī, Fī al-I’tilāf wa-l-ikhtilāf, 260; Crone, Medieval, 87–88; Safran, Second, 203 n.9, where she writes of the caliphs’ usage of alqāb, regnal names, to emphasize every caliph’s “active role as God’s agent and as a fighter for the faith.” Lewis, “Regnal,” 13–22; Zaman, Religion, 12; Robinson, Islamic Civilization, 60ff.; Berkey, Formation, 128; Shaban, ᶜAbbāsid, 166–167; Bennison, Great, 11 (mantle), 29 (regnal names). See also Crone and Hinds, God’s Caliph, 80, where the ᶜAbbāsids “styled themselves deputies of God, took themselves to be trustees of God, imams of guidance and imams of justice, and saw themselves as rightly guided.” On the regnal names given to Arab Muslim politicians, see the encyclopedic work by Fu’ād Ṣāliḥ al-Sayyid, Muᶜjam alqāb al-siyāsiyyīn fī al-tārīkh al-ᶜarabī wa-l-islāmī. 7 See also Crone and Hinds, God’s Caliph, 43–44, where they discuss the caliphal spiritual role, which “was seen as consisting above all in the definition and elaboration of God’s ordinances, or in other words in the definition and elaboration of Islamic law.” See also Hughes, Muslim, 141; Lapidus, Islamic, 128. The ᶜAbbāsids claimed the imamate in their family, not the ᶜAlids. Crone, Nativist, 43– 44, 110; al-Khuḍarī, al-Dawla, 18. 8 See van Ess, Theology, 3:483. See also 3:483, where the author states that al-Ma’mūn thought of himself as maᶜṣūm (infallible). 9 See Crone, Medieval, 85. The “universalist message of Islam” was the opposite of the Umayyad Arab orientation. Al-Khuḍarī, al-Dawla, 557; also Petersen, ᶜAlī, 137–141, where he explains al- Balādhurī’s depiction of the Umayyads as the Arab State, Arab aristocracy, and Arabian monarchy. For the Umayyad Caliphate as an “Arab kingdom,” see Webb, Imagining, 156, 278–279, 356. For the Umayyad conception of the caliphate, see Crone and Hinds, God’s Caliph, 24ff. 10 According to al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 9:13, these writing projects began in Mecca, Medina, Syria, Baṣra, Yemen, and Kūfa, as early as 143/760, during the caliphate of al-Manṣūr. In this same year, Ibn Isḥāq began writing his maghāzī. Al-Dhahabī concludes, in these days, kathur tadwīn al-ᶜilm wa tabwībih (writing down and classifying the knowledge grew rapidly). A similar report is found in al- Suyūṭī, Ta’rīkh, 194. See Amīn, Ḍuḥā, 2:319–360.
Attempts at Compromise 173 which meant that the religious authority of the caliphs was challenged.11 To preserve and enforce their religious authority, the caliphs had to emphasize their role as the ultimate religious arbiters.12 This culminated in the enforcement of the miḥna (inquisition) in 218/833, during the reign of al-Ma’mūn (r. 198/813–218/833).13 Patricia Crone rightly observes that, with the miḥna, the caliph “intended to bring the religious scholars under his control.”14 This miḥna was a theological test given by the caliph to religious figures, demanding that they primarily affirm the Muᶜtazilite doctrine of the “createdness” of the Qur’ān.15 Some modern scholars suggest that al-Ma’mūn sought to impose Muᶜtazilism, while others disagree and argue that the miḥna was initiated merely to challenge the growing religious power of the ᶜulamā’.16 I believe that, although Muᶜtazilism had arguably served the ᶜAbbāsids well,17 it does not seem plausible that al-Ma’mūn wanted to impose 11 See Watt, Islamic, 34, where he explains al-Ma’mūn’s struggle in managing the competing groups within the empire. See Crone, Medieval, 93. Note that about seventy-five years passed from the time of al-Manṣūr’s initiating the writing projects in 143/760 to al-Ma’mūn’s enforcement of al-miḥna in 218/833. 12 See Crone and Hinds, God’s Caliph, 92–97: “The scholarly conception of Prophetic sunna was thus a threat to caliphal authority from the moment of its appearance” (92); also Crone, Medieval, 88; van Ess, Theology, 4:616. 13 According to al- Balādhurī, Kitāb futūḥ al-buldān, 32, al- Ma’mūn granted Fadak to the descendants of Fāṭima, and claimed, “The commander of the believers, in his position in the religion of Allah and as caliph [successor] of his Prophet and a near relative to him, has the first right to enforce the Prophet’s regulations and carry out his orders and deliver to him, whom the Prophet granted something or gave it as sadakah, the thing granted or given as such.” Al-Balādhurī, Origins, 54. This suggests that al-Ma’mūn viewed himself as a religious arbiter. See Crone and Hinds, God’s Caliph, 92, where they write that “al-Ma’mūn explained that of all people who followed the sunna of the Prophet he was the best equipped to act in accordance with it, partly because of his position in God’s religion, partly because of his succession to Muḥammad, and partly because of his kinship with the Prophet.” See Robinson, “Islamic Historical Writing,” in Oxford History, ed. Foot and Robinson, 240. 14 Crone, Medieval, 88. See also van Ess, Theology, 4:616. 15 Van Ess, Theology, 3:483ff.; Rifāᶜī, ᶜAṣr al-Ma’mūn, 1:367ff., 1:395ff.; Crone, Medieval, 131. Zaman, “Caliphs,” 391–402; Zaman, Religion, 12, 70ff.; Hurvitz, “Miḥna,” 17–28. For various interpretations of the miḥna, especially in relation to Muᶜtazilism and Shīᶜism, see Nawas, “Reexamination,” 615–629, where he argues it was enforced not for theological reasons, but mainly for the survival of the caliphal institution; also Nawas, “Miḥna,” 698–708. For a brief comparison between Muᶜtazilism and Shīᶜism, see Amīn, Ẓuhr, 745ff., 809ff.; also Ansari and Schmidtke, “Shīᶜī,” 196–214. 16 Some scholars view the miḥna as “the work of the Muᶜtazila,” not merely a test enforced by al- Ma’mūn. Van Ess, Theology, 3:521. Hinds defines the miḥna as “the procedure adopted by the Caliph al-Ma’mūn, and officially applied under his two immediate successors, for the purpose of imposing the view that the Kur’an had been created.” Hinds, “Miḥna,” EI2, 7:2–6. Note that Patricia Crone seems to disagree with this definition, particularly as she does not believe that al-Ma’mūn wanted to impose Muᶜtazilism because he was not actually a Muᶜtazilite. See Crone, Medieval, 131. However, Crone’s views are contradicted by Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam, 1:160, 6:2827, where al-Ma’mūn was educated by Yaḥyā ibn al-Mubārak, who was a Yazīdī accused of Muᶜtazilism. See Rifāᶜī, ᶜAṣr, 1:367–368. 17 See Petersen, ᶜAlī, 88, 121–122, where he explains how Muᶜtazilism was unique in its denunciation of the Umayyads and elevation of ᶜAlī, which initially served the ᶜAbbāsid cause. He also writes that al-Ma’mūn and his successors attempted to make “the caliphal power the common dominator of the orthodox precepts of the Islamic society and adapt its dogmatic development to the basic views
174 Conversion to Islam it as the only acceptable theological stance.18 Rather, he was struggling to assert his religious role against the rapidly growing influence of ahl al-ḥadīth (traditionists), as evidenced in three ways.19 First, six years before he enforced the miḥna, al-Ma’mūn issued a series of official religious decrees, including establishing the religious preference of ᶜAlī above all others, and forbidding the Muᶜāwiya cult.20 Second, he appointed an ᶜAlid (ᶜAlī ibn Mūsā al-Kāẓim) as his successor in 201/817, granting him the title al-Riḍā.21 By elevating ᶜAlī and disfavoring Muᶜāwiya, al-Ma’mūn was establishing his authority as a religious arbiter of the Muslims, of the Abbasids” (121). See also Stroumsa, “Beginning,” 293, where she argues that a “political interpretation of the rise of the Muᶜtazila also makes it easier to account for the Muᶜtazilite fervour of the ᶜAbbasids during the miḥna.” 18 Jadᶜān, al-Miḥna, 19, 56ff., 163–164. See al-Khuḍarī, al-Dawla, 234, where he writes that al- Ma’mūn used to organize debate meetings and bring together scholars of fiqh, kalām, and ḥadīth to discuss religious matters in order to agree on a particular position, so that laypeople would adopt it. See also Ḍayf, al-ᶜAṣr, 39; al-Wurayyimī, Fī al-I’tilāf, 263ff. A similar view is offered by Hurvitz, Formation, 115; Nawas, Ma’mūn, 2–16. For the tensions between the mutakallimūn and muḥaddithūn (traditionists), see Pines, “Early,” 74. For an example of these organized debate meetings, see Bertaina, “Melkites,” 17–36, where he examines a reported dialogue which allegedly occurred in 214/829 between Theodore Abū Qurra, several Muslim ᶜulamā’, and al-Ma’mūn. 19 See al-Dūrī, al-ᶜAṣr, 157–164, where he studies various challenges al-Ma’mūn faced during the period immediately prior to the miḥna (domestic, political, sectarian problems, especially how the ᶜAlids were opportune to revenge from the ᶜAbbāsids). See Crone, Medieval, 131, where she writes that “the miḥna was in the nature of a gauntlet flung at the Ḥadīth party.” This is echoed in van Ess, Theology, 4:616. See al-Khuḍarī, al-Dawla, 237ff.; Nawas, “Reexamination,” 624; Nawas, “Miḥna,” 698–708. Crone calls proto-Sunnī scholars ahl al-Ḥadīth or aṣḥāb al-ḥadīth (the Hadīth party or adherents of traditions). Crone, Medieval, 125. Concerning the time when Sunnism became an official sect, see Amīn, Ẓuhr, 789ff. On ahl al-ḥadīth, see the discussion of Ḥammāmī, Islām al-fuqahā’, 55ff. See Abū Zayd, al-Imām al-Shāfiᶜī, 37ff.; also his broader discussions in Abū Zayd, al-Naṣṣ, al- sulṭa, al-ḥaqīqa, 13–65; Abū Zayd, Naqd al-khiṭāb, 117ff. 20 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 133, where he writes that al-Ma’mūn, in 212/827, “officially established the religious preference of ᶜAli above anyone else and devised his attempts to forbid the Muᶜāwiya cult, and that he six years later carried his policy to its logical consequence by making Muᶜtazilism his official doctrine” (133). See also Watt, Islamic, 34. On al-Ma’mūn supporting the ᶜAlids and opposing the Umayyads, see van Ess, Theology, 3:483. On the cult of Muᶜāwiya, see Watt, Formative, 168; Scales, Fall, 116; Pellat, “Le culte,” 53–66; Ẓahīr, al-Shīᶜa, 13–15, where he also writes of the ᶜUthmaniyya as another name for shīᶜat Muᶜāwiya. The cult also appears in a report of the hatred against the ᶜAlids and the love for the Umayyads in Syria; see Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam, 4:1854. On shīᶜat Muᶜāwiya, see Ibn Yūnus al-Miṣrī, Ta’rīkh, 1:63; al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 5:368, 26:207; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 16:125; Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 10:144–145; Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī, Iṣāba, 1:422, 4:303; Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī, Tahdhīb, 1:435; al-Dāwūdī, Tabaqāt al-mufassirīn, 1:206. 21 For primary sources, see al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 14:5–7; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 13:121; Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 7:167. For secondary studies, see Crone, Medieval, 93; Watt, Islamic, 34; Rekaya, “al-Ma’mūn,” EI2, 6:331–339, especially 6:335; Petersen, ᶜAlī, 88, where al-Ma’mūn is depicted as relatively pro- ᶜAlid. See also al-Khuḍarī, al-Dawla al-ᶜabbāsiyya, 205. The complete title given to ᶜAlī ibn Mūsā al- Kāẓim was al-Riḍā min āl Muḥammad (the chosen or favored one from Muhammad’s Household). See Yücesoy, Messianic, 91, where this designation of al-Riḍā was in favor of the Hāshimites over the ᶜAbbāsids. See also Robinson, Islamic Civilization, 60ff.; al-Dūrī, al-ᶜAṣr, 157–164; al-Khuḍarī, al- Dawla al-ᶜabbāsiyya, 214ff.; Zaydān, Ta’rīkh al-tamaddun al-islāmī, 4:439–441. On al-Ma’mūn’s letter of designation of ᶜAlī al-Riḍā, see Crone and Hinds, God’s Caliph, 133ff.
Attempts at Compromise 175 particularly against ḥadīth scholars.22 Third, while several ᶜAbbāsid caliphs prior to al-Ma’mūn openly supported the ᶜAbbāsid claims over the ᶜAlids’, al-Ma’mūn—in an attempt to create his own position—gave up the ᶜAbbāsid cause for that of the ᶜAlids.23 These three reasons, I argue, demonstrate that al-Ma’mūn did not specifically desire to enforce Muᶜtazilism as the sole theological stance among Muslims.24 Rather, this is better viewed as one of his many attempts to solidify his role as religious arbiter of the Muslims.25 This argument is significant, particularly because it presents the miḥna as a culmination of hidden tensions between the caliphs and the scholars regarding religious authority rather than as a reversal in a prolonged cooperation—between religious and caliphal spheres—which went wrong. Both views are present in modern scholarship and represent a debate which requires a word of explanation.26 Some modern Islamicists argue that the miḥna should be viewed as a culmination of growing hidden tensions between the caliphs and the ᶜulamā’ 22 See al-Dūrī, al-ᶜAṣr, 158–164, where he explains al-Ma’mūn’s favoritism for the ᶜAlids; Zaman, Religion, 102, 105, where he argues that, up to the reign of al-Ma’mūn, the caliphs did not oppose the authority of the religious scholars. This is consistent with Zaman’s overall argument that the miḥna was not caused by tensions between the caliphs and the traditionists. His thesis is that the early ᶜAbbāsid period (132/749–218/833) represented a “close mutual dependence” between the caliphs and the religious scholarly elite (proto-Sunnī scholars), which eventually developed into the Sunnī ᶜulamā’. See also his discussion concerning the proto-Sunnī ᶜulamā’ during al-miḥna in Zaman, “Caliphs,” 391–402; Zaman, Religion, 12, 70ff. I disagree with Zaman’s assessment, as will be shown shortly. For a critical review of Zaman’s arguments, see Hibri, “Review,” 686–687. 23 Crone, Medieval, 93; Rifāᶜī, ᶜAṣr al-Ma’mūn, 1:368, where he states that al-Ma’mūn seems to support both the ᶜAbbāsids and the ᶜAlids at different times. See Ibn al-Athīr, al-Kāmil, 5:585, where al-Ma’mūn is depicted as shadīd al-mayl ilā al-ᶜalawiyyīn (very sympathetic toward the ᶜAlids). Yücesoy, Messianic, 91ff. For primary references, see al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 14:5–7 (appointing Riḍā instead of al-Ma’mūn’s brother al-Qāsim, changing black to green in Baghdad to favor the ᶜAlids, Banū al-ᶜAbbās greatly hated al-Ma’mūn’s actions); al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 13:121; Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 7:167 (Banū al-ᶜAbbās were greatly raged). See also al-Dūrī, al-ᶜAṣr, 161; al-Khuḍarī, al-Dawla al- ᶜabbāsiyya, 214–215, where al-Ma’mūn gave his two daughters to two ᶜAlid imams. 24 The issue of the createdness of the Qur’ān did not begin with al-Ma’mūn’s enforcement of the mḥna. See van Ess, Theology, 2:713, where he writes, “The miḥna may have contributed to the old resistance to the khalq al-Qur’ān taking on a new guise in due course.” See also 3:151, 3:191, 4:700, where he states, “There can be no doubt that a whole generation before the miḥna the question was at the centre of embittered controversy.” See also Jadᶜān, al-Miḥna, 24ff. 25 For the many attempts of al-Ma’mūn to interfere in religious decisions, see al-Khuḍarī, al-Dawla al-ᶜabbāsiyya, 237ff. See also Hibri, “Reign,” where he argues, “The crisis [of the miḥna] reflected the caliph’s attempt to control the informal circle of the ᶜulamā’.” According to Crone and Hinds, the caliph sought to impose himself as the religious healer of the umma’s religious illness, resuming “the old caliphal role of curing spiritual blindness”; however, “under the leadership of Ibn Ḥanbal [the ᶜulamā’] rejected caliphal guidance in religious matters once and for all.” Crone and Hinds, God’s Caliph, 96. See also Mu’nis, Tanqiyat uṣūl al-tārīkh al-islāmī, 181ff. 26 For a survey of Western secondary literature on the miḥna, see the 2011 dissertation of Nadia Nader, “The Memory of the Mihna,” 17ff. Her survey, however, does not engage non-Western secondary studies. For a thorough survey of modern historiography of the miḥna, see Nawas, “Reexamination,” 615–629.
176 Conversion to Islam over religious authority, while others suggest it was an isolated exception within a long period of cooperation between the two. For instance, Muhammad Qasim Zaman questions the conclusions concerning religious tensions between the caliphs and the scholars. He argues that, “except for the period of the Miḥna, there is little evidence to suggest that the early ᶜAbbāsid caliphs were competing with the ᶜulamā’ or challenging the latter on the prerogative to define and interpret matters of law and dogma.”27 Zaman views religious authority in the early ᶜAbbāsid Caliphate as a cooperation (not disputation) between the caliphs and the ᶜulamā’.28 Like Zaman, Nimrod Hurvitz focuses on the example of Ibn Ḥanbal and views the miḥna as an anomaly within a harmonious environment.29 The framework suggested by Zaman and Hurvitz requires a significant trust in the reliability of the sources and a downplaying of various religio-political episodes which occurred before and after the miḥna. Their view portrays the miḥna as a reversal in a long-lived relationship of accord between religious scholars and caliphal authorities, suggesting that the miḥna emerged within a context of sociopolitical quietism.30 This cannot be true. Their claims are not supported by the reports we possess. The Caliph Hārūn was reportedly directing the traditionist al-Shāfiᶜī and targeting Shiites harshly.31 Also, al-Manṣūr initiated and supervised the acclaimed project of creating a written record of Muhammad’s life and assigned it to a traditionist, Ibn Isḥāq, who used to make a living in the caliph’s court.32 In this book, we have already highlighted various historical encounters which demonstrate caliphs interfering in religious matters and initiating religious decrees. In fact, Hurvitz himself seems 27 Zaman, “Caliphs,” 369, where he concludes that the “caliphs prior to al-Ma’mūn seem essentially to have subscribed to the emerging Sunni ᶜulamā’s views of what the caliph’s role and function ought to be.” See also Zaman, Religion, 12, where he claims that, up to the reign of al-Ma’mūn, ᶜAbbāsid caliphs had not challenged the authority of the ᶜulamā (102–105). 28 See the important remarks of Tayeb el Hibri regarding Zaman’s thesis in “Review,” 686–687, where he concludes, “Adopting this framework, however, is no easy matter and confronts many problems that ultimately make the book’s argument unconvincing.” 29 Hurvitz, “Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal,” 106. See also Hurvitz, “Miḥna,” 17–28; Hurvitz, Formation, 65ff. 30 The term “quietism” is from Hibri, “Review,” 686. 31 Ibn al-Nadīm states that al-Shāfiᶜī was an extreme Shīᶜite before his conflict with Hārūn. Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 209. See Crone and Hinds, God’s Caliph, 96; al-Dūrī, al-ᶜAṣr, 110ff.; Abū Khalīl, Hārūn, 194ff.; al-Wurayyimī, Fī al-I’tilāf, 117ff; Rifāᶜī, ᶜAṣr al-Ma’mūn, 1:158. See also al-Bayhaqī, Manāqib al-Shāfiᶜī, 1:399ff.; al-Masᶜūdī, Murūj, 3:293ff.; al-Yaᶜqūbī, Ta’rīkh, 2:499; Omar, “Hārūn al-Rashīd,” EI2, 3:233. Chaumont, “al-Shāfiᶜī,” EI2, 9:181–185. On al-Rashīd’s anti-Shiite policies, see al-Dūrī, ᶜAṣr, 111ff.; al-Ṣadūq, ᶜUyūn akhbār al-Riḍā, 1:108–112; al-Isfahānī, Maqātil, 387ff. 32 On al-Manṣūr, see Ibn Khallikān, Wafayāt, 4:277, as he states, “Ibn Isḥāq came to Abū Jaᶜfar al-Manṣūr at Ḥīra and wrote the maghāzī for him.” See also al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 9:13. See Muṣṭafā, al-Ta’rīkh, 1:67, where he emphasizes the partiality of Ibn Isḥāq toward the caliph; also Anthony, Muhammad, 150–173.
Attempts at Compromise 177 to deny the existence of such religio-political quietism when he argues that even the ᶜulamā’ experienced a crisis following the miḥna, which “was probably the most important factor in shaping the Ḥanbalī madhhab.”33 This does not indicate a quiet cooperative relationship but rather a continued struggle over religious influence. Unlike Zaman and Hurvitz, many historians of Islam view the miḥna as a culmination of tensions between the caliphs and the ᶜulamā’ over religious authority. Montgomery Watt views the miḥna as a peak of consecutive conflicts and argues that, by the reign of al-Ma’mūn, the empire had been struggling with disunity “by the opposition of rival groups of interests.”34 Watt’s interpretation indicates that, during the miḥna, the enforced theological doctrine (Muᶜtazilite) reveals that the caliph sought greater decision- making authority in religious matters in order to achieve political stability.35 This is echoed in two important Arabic studies by Muḥammad al-Khuḍarī and Aḥmad Farīd Rifāᶜī, who argue that al-Ma’mūn was concerned above all with uniting the caliphate politically.36 Like Watt, M. A. Shaban views the miḥna as an obvious conflict between the two camps. He argues that it reflects the powerful obstruction of the ᶜulamā’ and believes that it eventually strengthened their position, by forcing al-Mutawakkil (r. 232/847–247/861) to abolish it.37 Shaban’s arguments ring true if we consider how four powerful caliphs—al-Mutawakkil (d. 247/861) and his three predecessors, al-Ma’mūn (d. 218/833), al-Muᶜtaṣim (d. 228/842), and al-Wāthiq (d. 233/847)—were unable to suppress the growing resistance of the ᶜulamā’.38 Similarly, Ira Lapidus views the miḥna as a culmination of tensions between the caliphs and the ᶜulamā’. He argues that al-Ma’mūn enforced the miḥna to “force government officials and religious leaders to accept his religious views and his authority in matters of religious ritual and doctrine.”39
33 Hurvitz, Formation, 115ff. 34 See Watt, Islamic, 34–35, where he states, “this piece of hairsplitting is relevant to the conflict [between the rival groups]” (35). Similarly, see Mu’nis, Tanqiyat uṣūl al-tārīkh, 169–194. 35 The miḥna was not merely a theological test, but also a step for political pressure to establish order. See van Ess, Theology, 3:503, where he states, “It is noticeable that Jāḥiẓ was writing while the miḥna was still going on, as he tried to show that the trial was not mere victimisation but in fact a political measure the caliph could not evade.” 36 Al-Khuḍarī, al-Dawla al-ᶜabbāsiyya, 236–237; Rifāᶜī, ᶜAṣr, 1: 371–372. See al-Dūrī, Aṣr, 169ff., where he discusses the chaotic political situation in al-Jazīra, Syria, and Egypt, and how al-Ma’mūn tried to handle the unstable empire. This was the context within which the decision to enforce the miḥna was made. Crone and Hinds, God’s Caliph, 96. 37 Shaban, Islamic, 55. See also Naderi, “Absolutist,” 47; Amīn, Ẓuhr, 13ff. 38 Before al-Mutawakkil, al-Muᶜtaṣim “wished to end the miḥna.” Van Ess, Theology, 3:501. 39 Lapidus, “Separation,” 379. See also Black, History, 27ff.
178 Conversion to Islam Like Lapidus, John Nawas concludes that the miḥna was not about “a particular theological doctrine, but the authority of the caliph versus the authority of those men who saw themselves and not the caliph as the legitimate repository and authentic transmitters of religious knowledge and tradition.”40 Thus, Shaban and Lapidus treat the miḥna as a collision of the caliph and the ᶜulamā’, particularly ahl al-Ḥadīth, over religious authority. In the same vein, Tayeb el-Hibri argues that the “crisis [of the miḥna] reflected the caliph’s attempt to control the informal circle of the ᶜulamā’.”41 Like el-Hibri, Hossein Kamaly views the miḥna within the caliph-scholars fight over authority.42 Similarly, Crone and Hinds interpret the miḥna within the context of a caliph who sought to impose himself as the religious healer of the umma’s religious illness.43 To Crone and Hinds, the miḥna was a natural consequence of tensions between the ᶜulamā’ and the caliphs—tensions which began in the early ᶜAbbāsid era during the reign of the second Caliph al-Manṣūr (r. 136/ 754–158/775) and culminated with the powerful Hārūn al-Rashīd (r. 170/ 786–193/809). Here, Crone and Hinds make a plausible argument: While the miḥna was officially enforced by the seventh Caliph al-Ma’mūn (r. 198/ 813–218/833), its roots and precursors began over half a century earlier, in the earliest years of the second Caliph al-Manṣūr (r. 136/754–158/775). For Crone and Hinds, the miḥna was less about theological disputes than about affirming religious authority within the Muslim community. This survey of scholarly arguments examines the two major interpretations of the context of the miḥna: an anomaly in a cooperative relationship between the caliphs and the ᶜulamā’, or a result of growing tensions between the two. I argue that the miḥna reflects a tension which led to cooperation. While it was imposed due to growing tensions over religious authority, its ultimate failure necessitated diligent attempts at compromise and cooperation between the caliphal authority and the religious scholars.44 I earlier offered three reasons for my belief that al-Ma’mūn was not concerned with Muᶜtazilism specifically to enforce it, but rather to suppress the growing authority of religious scholars. With these reasons in mind, it is my contention 40 Nawas, “Reexamination,” 624. See also Nawas, “Miḥna,” 698–708. 41 See Hibri, “Reign,” 301–307; the quote is from the abstract. 42 Kamaly, “Four,” 4–7, where he argues that the miḥna “aimed to compel the patricians into compliance with theological doctrines formally endorsed by the caliphate” (4). He views this as a political episode rooted in a “theological dispute.” Nawas, Al-Ma’mūn, 54–75. 43 Crone and Hinds, God’s Caliph, 96. 44 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 133ff., 173; Hibri, “Redemption,” 254, where he argues convincingly that the clash between the ᶜulamā’ and the caliphs during the miḥna resulted in a pro-Umayyad stance, which eventually permeated historical writing. Hughes, Muslim, 115–116.
Attempts at Compromise 179 that the miḥna both reflected and affected the relationship between the caliphs and the ᶜulamā’. While its enforcement by al-Ma’mūn reflected his desire to secure the caliphal religious authority after decades of tension with the ᶜulamā’, its abolishment by al-Mutawakkil was due to the successful resistance of the ᶜulamā’.45 The failure of the miḥna, therefore, ignited the decisive triumph of the ᶜulamā’, declaring them the principal religious authority in Islam; however, this victory necessitated attempts by the two parties to establish an understanding, which eventually influenced post-miḥna historical writing, as will be shown shortly.46 Now I turn to the Muslim historians who wrote during and after the miḥna. I will discuss their biographical data to highlight their religious and sociopolitical contexts. Then I will analyze their descriptions of conversion to Islam. Finally, I will evaluate how the miḥna, as a historical reality, influenced historiographical reports, thus examining the interplay between history and historiography.
Post-Miḥna Historians In order to examine the influence of the miḥna on historical writing, it is important to begin by investigating the available biographical data for the Muslim historians who wrote during the period under study. I argue that their contexts influenced their texts; thus, understanding their religious backgrounds and political dispositions is crucial to analyzing their narratives. Here I rely on primary sources and secondary studies in order to highlight the historians’ religio-political inclinations, but I should make two important observations. First, there is more data on some historians than others, and some historians are undoubtedly more influential than others. My goal is not to be exhaustive. Rather, I aim to provide concise accounts on each 45 For the successful resistance of the ᶜulamā’ as symbolized particularly in the figure of Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal, see Patton, Aḥmed Ibn Ḥanbal, 2–3, 10ff., 52,126–127; Hurvitz, Formation, 113ff.; Hurvitz, “Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal”; Cooperson, Al-Ma’mūn; Cooperson, Classical; Melchert, Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal. 46 While Lapidus, Crone, and Hinds argue that the miḥna has actually separated religious and political aspects of the communal life within the umma, Muhammad Qasim Zaman disagrees, instead arguing “against any such separation between the religious or legal and the political realms.” See Lapidus, “Separation,” 363–385; Crone and Hinds, God’s Caliph, 96; Zaman, “Caliphs,” 367. I agree with Zaman here, although I disagree with his overall thesis that the miḥna was an interruption in cooperation between the caliphs and the ᶜulamā’. For a recent study on the influence of aṣḥāb al-ḥadīth on historical traditions, see Shahab Ahmed, Before Orthodoxy, chs. 2–3, especially 35–37, and 45–47. He studies various traditions related to the Satanic Verses and demonstrates the diligent effort of aṣḥāb al-ḥadīth to orchestrate competing traditions to deny the incident.
180 Conversion to Islam historian, focusing only on his reported religious and political views. Second, in these biographical entries, we will notice not only the rising number of ᶜAbbāsid-era historians but also the increasing number of competing voices in historical writings: pro-ᶜAbbāsid, pro-Umayyad, pro-ᶜAlid, and various Sunnī schools, as well as pro-and anti-Muᶜtazilite. We will also realize two competing realities: the growing independence of some historians from the caliphal court and the continued involvement of others in serving caliphal requirements. After discussing the historians’ backgrounds, I will provide concluding remarks.
Muḥammad ibn Saᶜd (d. 230/844) Muḥammad ibn Saᶜd al-Baṣrī al-Baghdādī is well-known as kātib (the scribe of) al-Wāqidī.47 Ibn Saᶜd was the most trusted among four who kept al-Wāqidī’s works.48 Ibn Saᶜd’s grandfather was a mawlā of Banū Hāshim, which may indicate his pro-ᶜAlid inclinations.49 His knowledge and trustworthiness are highly praised by many.50 Concerning his religious and political inclinations, according to al-Ṭabarī, Ibn Saᶜd supported the Muᶜtazilite position during the miḥna by affirming that the Qur’ān was created.51 Not only was he pro-Muᶜtazilite, but he also, as Petersen observes, adopted clear pro-ᶜAbbāsid and anti-Umayyad sympathies.52 In adopting anti-Umayyad inclinations, Ibn Saᶜd was following in the footsteps of his teacher, al-Wāqidī. As for his works, according to al-Dhahabī, Ibn Saᶜd wrote al-Ṭabaqāt al- ṣaghīr and al-Ṭabaqāt al-kabīr.53 In describing al-Ṭabaqāt al-kabīr, Johann 47 Ibn Abī Ḥātim al-Rāzī, Jarḥ, 7:262; al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 16:355. 48 Al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 3:266; see also Ibn Khallikān, Wafayāt, 4:351–352; al-Dhahabī, Tadhkirat, 2:11ff. See also Brockelmann, Ta’rīkh, 3:19–20; Huart, History, 177. 49 Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 53:62ff.; see also, al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 16:355. He was a biographer, reportedly born in Baṣra in ah 168/784. He lived most of his life in Baghdad and died in 230/845. Al- Dhahabī, Siyar, 10:664–667; al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 16:355ff; Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 99. Sezgin, Ta’rīkh, 1:2:111–114. According to Ibn Abī Ḥātim al-Rāzī, Jarḥ, 7:262, Ibn Saᶜd died in ah 236. For his pro- ᶜAlid inclinations, see Petersen, ᶜAlī, 121, where he states that Ibn Saᶜd, unlike many of his era, advocated venerating ᶜAlī. 50 Concerning his knowledge and trustworthiness, Ibn Abī Ḥātim, Ibn Khallikān, and al-Ṣafadī, among others, view him favorably and point to his reliability. Ibn Abī Ḥātim al-Rāzī, Jarḥ, 7:262; Ibn Khallikān, Wafayāt, 4:351–352; al-Ṣafadī, Wāfī, 3:75. See also al-Dhahabī, Tadhkirat, 2:11ff.; Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī, Tahdhīb, 9:182. In fact, al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī and al-Ṣafadī agree that Ibn Saᶜd sought precision in treating his sources, criticizing and evaluating them carefully. Al-Khaṭīb al- Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 3:266; al-Ṣafadī, Wāfī, 3:75. On this, see al-Dhahabī, Tadhkirat, 2:11ff; 51 J. W. Fück, “Ibn Saᶜd,” EI2, 3:922–923; see al-Ṭabarī, History, 32:203ff. 52 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 92. 53 Al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 16:355; Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 99. J. W. Fück, “Ibn Saᶜd,” EI2, 3:922–923. On Ibn Saᶜd’s Ṭabaqāt, see Lucas, Constructive, 290–297.
Attempts at Compromise 181 Fück writes, “It was intended to be an aid to the study of traditions by giving information on some 4250 persons (including about 600 women) who, from the beginning of Islam down to the author’s time, had played a role as narrators or transmitters of traditions about the Prophet’s sayings and doings.”54
Ibn Sallām al-Jumaḥī (d. 232/847) Ibn Sallām al-Jumaḥī was a student of al-Aṣmaᶜī and well-known for his Ṭabaqāt fuḥūl al-shuᶜarā’. According to al-Dhahabī, he was both akhbārī (chronicler, historian) and adīban bāriᶜan (an eloquent writer).55 He reportedly arrived in Baghdad in 222/836, became very ill, and died a decade later, in 232/846.56 According to al-Samᶜānī, Ibn Sallām al-Jumaḥī was concerned about death, as he greatly loved life.57 His Kitāb fuḥūl al-shuᶜarā’ includes references to conversion in historiographical material, and thus deserves examination.
Yaḥyā ibn Maᶜīn (d. 233/847) Yaḥyā ibn Maᶜīn was a strong Sunnī traditionist. A non-Arab mawla, he reportedly inherited one million dirhams from his father, who was in charge of the kharāj of al-Rayy, and spent it all on studying the ḥadīth, to the extent that he did not have shoes.58 He began writing the ḥadīth at age twenty and 54 J. W. Fück, “Ibn Saᶜd,” EI2, 3:922–923. For a critical assessment of Ibn Saᶜd’s Ṭabaqāt, see Djait, Tārīkhiyyat al-daᶜwa, 228–232. It should be noted, however, that there have likely been additions to Ibn Saᶜd’s work by later writers, as it includes mentions of Ibn Saᶜd’s death and informs of people who lived more than two decades after Ibn Saᶜd. See Robinson, Historiography, 185, 28–30: “The text of Ibn Saᶜd’s Ṭabaqāt, for example, was ‘closed’ only decades after his death” (55). See also Donner, Narratives, 8, 136. 55 Al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 10:651; Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 99; al-Ziriklī, Aᶜlām, 8:320. 56 Ibn Abī Ḥātim al-Rāzī, Jarḥ, 7:278; al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 3:276; al-Ṣafadī, Wāfī, 18:89– 90, where he claims that Ibn Sallām died in 231/845. 57 Al-Samᶜānī, Ansāb, 3:327. 58 Al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 16:263; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 11:77ff.; Ibn Khallikān, Wafayāt, 6:139; Kaḥḥāla, Muᶜjam, 13:232–233. He was born in Baghdad during the years of Abū Jaᶜfar al- Manṣūr in 158/774, traveled to Egypt and Syria when he was fifty-six, and died in Medina in 233/ 847. Al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 16:263; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 11:95, 71; the full entry is 11:71–96; he died in Medina after seeing a vision of presumably Muhammad calling him to his side. See also Ibn Taghrībirdī, al-Nujūm al-zāhira fī mulūk Miṣr, 2:272; Ibn Khallikān, Wafayāt, 6:142. He was almost seventy-seven years old. Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī, Taqrīb, 11:287. On him being a non-Arab mawlā, see al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 16:263.
182 Conversion to Islam followed the school of Abū Ḥanīfa.59 He was a friend of Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal; they prayed together in al-Ruṣāfa mosque.60 Regarding Ibn Maᶜīn’s religious inclinations, we are told that he was anti-Muᶜtazilism and insisted that the Qur’ān was kalām Allāh (Allah’s speech) and not created.61 Moreover, Ibn Ḥanbal considered Yaḥyā ibn Maᶜīn a trustworthy muḥaddith and believed that any ḥadīth unfamiliar to Yaḥyā ibn Maᶜīn was not sound.62 As for his work, Yaḥyā ibn Maᶜīn’s Ta’rīkh is a well-known source on history and is mentioned by Ibn al-Nadīm.63 Ibn Maᶜīn is thus an anti-Muᶜtazilī Sunnī historian.
Muṣᶜab ibn ᶜAbdullāh al-Zubayrī (d. 236/851) Muṣᶜab ibn ᶜAbdullāh al-Zubayrī, a scholar of genealogy, ḥadīth, and ayyām al-ᶜarab (the battle days of the Arabs), was born in Medina in 156/773 and became a faithful student of the Medinan muḥaddith Mālik ibn Anas.64 Muṣᶜab was a robust Sunnī traditionist. Following in Mālik’s footsteps, he is reported to have strongly resisted the Muᶜtazilite doctrine of the createdness of the Qur’ān.65 He was also anti-Shiite. We read that Muṣᶜab’s father was 59 Al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 11:77. Ibn Taghrībirdī, Nujūm, 2:272–273, where it is reported that he wrote one million ḥadīth. Ibn Khallikān, Wafayāt, 6:139, refers to 600,000 ḥadīth only. 60 Al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 11:86. 61 Al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 11:85; Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī, Taqrīb, 11:282. See the recent study by Yūsuf al-Ṣiddīq, Hal qara’nā al-Qur’ān?, 39ff., where he explores various ways through which one can view and interpret the nature and origins of the Qur’ān. 62 Al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 16:263; Ibn Khallikān, Wafayāt, 6:140; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 11:80; Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī, Taqrīb, 11:282ff.; Ibn Taghrībirdī, Nujūm, 2:273. Moreover, according to Ibn Abī Ḥātim al-Rāzī, only liars hate Yaḥyā ibn Maᶜīn. Al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 11:83. On Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal (d. 241/855) as the central defining figure of Sunnism and anti-Muᶜtazilism in the earlier third/ninth century, see Susan Spectorsky, “Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal,” in Islamic, ed. Arabi et al., 85–106; Melchert, “Aḥmad Ibn Ḥanbal,” 22–34. On his thought progress, see Hurvitz, Formation, 49ff. 63 Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 231. According to Ibn Abī Ḥātim, Yaḥyā ibn Maᶜīn was the most competent writer of the ḥadīth. Ibn Abī Ḥātim al-Rāzī, Jarḥ, 1:315, the full entry is 1:314–318, where there is a list of his manāqib and waraᶜ and a description of his funeral. On Ibn Maᶜīn and his Ta’rīkh, see Lucas, Constructive, 298–301. 64 See Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 110; Ibn Abī Ḥātim al-Rāzī, Jarḥ, 8:309; Ibn Ḥibbān, Thiqāt, 9:175. Lévi-Provençal edited Muṣᶜab’s Nasab Quraysh and provided a detailed introduction on the work, its manuscripts, and the biography of its author. See Nasab Quraysh’s introduction (6–7); al-Ziriklī, Aᶜlām, 7:248–249; Kaḥḥāla, Muᶜjam, 12:291. We are also told that he traveled to Baghdad, where he lived most of his life and died in 236/851. Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 7:247; al-Samᶜānī, Ansāb, 6:265–266; al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh 17:17, 17:362–364; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 11:30–32. On Ayyām al-ᶜarab, see Shahid, Byzantium, 2:366. According to al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Muṣᶜab, who was the most competent in nasab (genealogy), narrated on Anas ibn Mālik and influenced Yaḥyā ibn Maᶜīn, among others. Al- Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 15:138. 65 Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī, Tahdhīb, 10:162–164. Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 5:504. The controversy over the createdness of the Qur’ān began long before the miḥna. See van Ess, Theology, 2:713, 4:700; Jadᶜān, al-Miḥna, 24ff.
Attempts at Compromise 183 reportedly a strong opponent of Shīᶜism who served the Caliphs al-Mahdī (r. 158/775–169/786) and al-Rashīd (r. 170/786–193/809).66 He might have also adopted some pro-Umayyad tendencies: Évariste Lévi-Provençal indicates that Muṣᶜab was unlikely to have been a supporter of the Hāshimite claims, as his mother was a granddaughter of Muṣᶜab ibn al-Zubayr, the son of the well-known companion al-Zubayr (d. 36/656), who was a major opponent of ᶜAlī.67 Various Sunnī authorities, including Imam Muslim and Abū Dāwūd, narrated based on Muṣᶜab, which indicates his stature in Sunnism.68 According to Ibn al-Nadīm, Muṣᶜab wrote two books: Nasab Quraysh and Kitāb al-nasab al-kabīr.69 Muṣᶜab, therefore, was anti-Muᶜtazilite, anti-Shiite, and perhaps pro-Umayyad, and his father served the ᶜAbbāsids.
Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ (d. 240/854) Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, a native of Baṣra in Iraq, was born ca. 160/777. His father and grandfather were both known as traditionists.70 According to many, Khalīfa was a trustworthy historian and reliable muḥaddith (ḥadīth scholar).71 He was a narrator capable of memorizing genealogies and skilled as a chronological akhbarī.72 Regarding his religious inclinations, he was a 66 Ibn Abī Ḥātim al-Rāzī, Jarḥ, 5:178; Ibn Khallikān, Wafayāt, 2:467–468; al-Samᶜānī, Ansāb, 6:265–266; Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī, Tahdhīb, 10:162–164. 67 See also the introduction of Lévi-Provençal to Nasab Quraysh, 6–7; Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 5:504. 68 Al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 17:362–364; the introduction of Lévi-Provençal to Nasab Quraysh, 6–7; Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī, Tahdhīb, 10:162–164. 69 Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 110. The former is extant in a scholarly critical edition by Lévi-Provençal. 70 According to al-Dhahabī, Khalīfa died in 240/854 at the age of eighty, which places his birth year around 160/777. See al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 11:472–474; Ibn Khallikān, Wafayāt, 2:243ff; al-Samᶜānī, Ansāb, 9:315–317; Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī, Tahdhīb, 3:160–161. It should be noted that Ibn Khallikān reports, in one account, that Khalīfa died ca. 230/845, but this is likely inaccurate as Ta’rīkh Khalīfa continues until 232/846 and his Ṭabaqāt refers to 236/850. See Muṣṭafā, Ta’rīkh, 1:234. For more on Khalīfa’s grandfather, see Ibn Ḥibbān, Mashāhīr ᶜulamā’ al-amṣār, 1:247. On Khalīfa’s biography, see the introduction of his Ta’rīkh by Professor Akram Ḍiyā’ al-ᶜUmarī of Islamic University of Medina, 5–30. The available information regarding his youth and education is scarce, yet scholars suggest that he most likely received his education in Baṣra and apparently did very little traveling. Suhayl Zakkār, “Ibn Khayyāṭ,” EI2, 3:838. He is also known, in addition to Khalīfa, as Shabāb (also Shabbāb and Shabīb) al-ᶜUṣfurī. Al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 1:23, 17:151; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 11:472; see Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 232, where Khalīfa is also known as Shabīb (or Shabāb) al-ᶜUṣfurī. For his name rendered as Shabbāb, see al-ᶜAqīlī, Ḍuᶜafā’, 2:22. 71 Ibn Ḥibbān, Thiqāt, 8:233; Ibn Shāhīn, Ta’rīkh asmā’ al-thiqāt, 77; al-Dhahabī, Mīzān al-iᶜtidāl fī naqd al-rijāl, 1:665, where Khalīfa is labeled ṣadūq mutayaqqiẓ (honest and alert). 72 Al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 17:151–153; al-Dhahabī, Siyar 11:473; see also Ibn Ḥibbān, Thiqāt, 8:233. On akhbārī (chronicler), muḥaddith (ḥadīth scholar), and mu’arrikh (historian), see Robinson, Historiography, xii–xiii, 16–17, where he describes the differences between the terms and explains how narratives can take a form of khabar or ḥadīth with no distinction; he uses akhbārī and mu’arrikh interchangeably, both referring to historian (17). See also Donner, Narratives, where he treats akhbār
184 Conversion to Islam notorious opponent of Muᶜtazilism during the reigns of al-Ma’mūn (r. 198/ 813–218/833), al-Muᶜtaṣim (r. 218/833–228/842) and al-Wāthiq (r. 228/ 842–233/847).73 Khalīfa reportedly served during the reign of al-Wāthiq alongside Aḥmad ibn Riyāḥ (qāḍī of Baṣra at the time) to debate Aḥmad ibn Abī Du’ād, a leading proponent of Muᶜtazilism.74 This suggests how willing Khalīfa was to oppose not only the leading advocates of Muᶜtazilism but even the caliph who openly supported the movement.75 Khalīfa was not only an opponent of Muᶜtazilism but also, according to Robert Hoyland and Carl Wurtzel, a historian who held a uniquely positive view of the Umayyad caliphs.76 This is an example of how pro-Umayyad voices are not absent in ᶜAbbāsid-era works.77 Khalīfa reportedly wrote several books, among which his Ta’rīkh and Ṭabaqāt are extant.78 When to mean reports and accounts (6, 14–15), how khabar reflects history compiled from short reports (255–256), and how akhbār were raised to the status of ḥadīth (119–120). 73 Wakīᶜ, Akhbār, 2:175; see Muṣṭafā, Ta’rīkh, 1:234–236, where he places Khalīfa on top of a list of al-mu’arrikhūn al-kibār (the great historians), acknowledging in particular his role against the Muᶜtazilism. During the miḥna, the theological persuasion of Muᶜtazilism advocated elevating the Qur’ān above the ḥadīth in matters of law. Pro-Muᶜtazilī, according to Christopher Melchert, “dismissed ḥadīth as insufficiently well attested for the Muslims to rely on it. The Sunnī position, against the Muᶜtazila, respected the Qur’ān but advocated heavy reliance on ḥadīth to elaborate the law where the Qur’ān was silent.” Melchert, “Aḥmad Ibn Ḥanbal,” 27; Melchert, Formation, ch. 7. 74 Wakīᶜ, Akhbār, 2:175; Muṣṭafā, Ta’rīkh, 1:234–236. On Aḥmad ibn Abī Du’ād and his leading role as a Muᶜtazilī during the miḥna, see the translation of Ibn al-Jawzī, Virtues, 101–105, 135–137, 143–145, 155–163, 239–243, et passim. See also al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 16:190 (Aḥmad ibn Abī Du’ād in al-Ma’mūn’s court); 16:393, 395, 396 (on his role with al-Muᶜtaṣim); 17:23 (on how al-Mutawakkil persecuted Aḥmad ibn Abī Du’ād); for the complete entry, see 17:40–46; see also al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 9:97; al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 2:129, 5:233 (Aḥmad ibn Abī Du’ād was a qāḍī during al- Muᶜtaṣim and al-Wāthiq); Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 71:108–124, 72:157–168 (with al-Mutawakkil); Ibn Khallikān, Wafayāt, 448. 75 On al-Wāthiq and his reign, see John Turner, “The Enigmatic Reign of al-Wāthiq (r. 227/842– 232/847),” in ᶜAbbāsid Studies IV, ed. Bernards, 218–230. Turner reads the deeds of al-Wāthiq as a means to strengthen his religio-political authority, especially by continuing the miḥna. On al-Wāthiq during the miḥna, particularly with Ibn Ḥanbal, see the translation of Michael Cooperson of Ibn al- Jawzī, Virtues, 150–164. 76 Hoyland and Wurtzel write, “The section on the Umayyad dynasty (660–750) [in Ta’rīkh Khalīfa], which occupies about half of the work, is noteworthy because it gives a more positive assessment of the Umayyad caliphs than later narratives.” See the description of Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, History on the Umayyad Dynasty 660–750. On the positive views of the Umayyads, see Donner, Narratives, 134, where he also compares Khalīfa with al-Ṭabarī. 77 See Petersen, ᶜAlī, 109ff., 133ff., 173; Hibri, “Redemption,” 241ff.; Borrut, Entre, ch. 1; Hughes, Muslim, 115–116. 78 Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 232. al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 17:151–153; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 11:473; see also Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī, Tahdhīb, 3:161. For a brief on the manuscript of Khalīfa’s Ta’rīkh, see Andersson, Early, 15–44. For Khalīfa and his works, see Andersson, Early, 45ff.; al-Ziriklī, Aᶜlām, 2:312; Kaḥḥāla, Muᶜjam, 4:108. Brockelmann, Ta’rīkh, 3:220. Robinson complains, “As is so frequently the case, the work survives in a single (and in this case, Moroccan) copy.” Robinson, Historiography, 77 (see also 36). Similarly, Zakkār writes that Khalīfa’s Ta’rīkh “survived, in a copy found in Morocco (the only copy so far known). In a single volume of 168 fols., it was copied in Muslim Spain in 477/1084.” Zakkār, “Ibn Khayyāṭ,” EI2, 3:838. Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 232. For Khalīfa’s Ta’rīkh and its structure, see Andersson, Early, 166ff.; Donner, Narratives, 133–134, 241;
Attempts at Compromise 185 examining conversion to Islam in ᶜAbbāsid-era works, Khalīfa’s Ta’rīkh and Ṭabaqāt are valuable sources. His works are some of the earliest complete sources on history and genealogies.79 In a recent study, Tobias Andersson writes, “Khalīfa’s Ṭabaqāt is one of the oldest biographical dictionaries of ḥadīth transmitters still extant—perhaps only preceded by the Ṭabaqāt of his contemporary, Muḥammad b. Saᶜd,” while “Khalīfa’s Tārīkh is the oldest Islamic chronicle still extant.”80 Furthermore, both of Khalīfa’s important works were most likely compiled in Iraq, which, during Khalīfa’s lifetime, flourished culturally and socially.81 Khalīfa’s reports on the Umayyad period are of special importance, as they are recognized by scholars as unique in their positive portrayal of the Umayyads. This is significant, as we will compare his accounts with others by both ᶜAbbāsid and Umayyad writers. By comparing these various accounts, we can examine how historians formed their interpretations of crucial moments of the past.82 In short, Khalīfa was anti-Muᶜtazilite and adopted pro-Umayyad inclinations.
Ibn Ḥabīb al-Baghdādī (d. 245/895) Abū Jaᶜfar Muhammad ibn Ḥabīb al-Baghdādī was born in Baghdad as one of the mawālī of Banū al-ᶜAbbās and became known as a competent scholar of genealogy, history, language, and poetry.83 He relied on Hishām Robinson, Historiography, 77–78, and 77 n.29, where he calls it annalistic history, emphasizing it “is significant only because it is the earliest we possess” (77). On akhbārī (chronicler) and mu’arrikh (historian), see Robinson, Historiography, xii–xiii, 16–17, 36–40. See also Donner, Narratives, 14– 15, 255–256, 119–120. On the publication of Khalīfa’s works, see Robinson, Historiography, 67 n.18, where he writes that the first publication of Khalīfa’s Ṭabaqāt took place in Damascus in 1966; see also Zakkār, “Ibn Khayyāṭ,” EI2, 3:839. 79 Andersson, Early, 45–65. 80 Andersson, Early, 53, 55, respectively. See also Robinson, Historiography, 47. Concerning Khalīfa’s Ṭabaqāt and its uniqueness, modern Syrian historian Shākir Muṣṭafā (1921–1997) explains that the work is unique for several reasons. See Muṣṭafā, Ta’rīkh, 1:236, where he observes that Khalīfa arranged his ṭabaqāt based on the important conquered amṣār, beginning with Medina, as it produced the highest number of scholars in Islam, followed by Kūfa, then Baṣra, and so forth. 81 Hoyland observes that, during Khalīfa’s time, Iraq was “a thriving centre of culture and trade and one of the most populous and prosperous regions of the world.” Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, History. Thus, Robinson approaches the development of Islamic historiography as “a question of cultural rather than intellectual history.” Robinson, “Study,” 207. 82 Heather Keaney writes, “Through a close comparative reading of these confrontations we can see the relationship between how an author constructed his account and how he construed the causes and contemporary consequences of the conflict.” Keaney, “Confronting,” 39. See also Millward, “Study,” 2–3. 83 Al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 3:87–88; Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam, 6:2480–2482; al-Samᶜānī, Ansāb, 12:111; Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 106–107; al-Ziriklī, Aᶜlām, 6:78.
186 Conversion to Islam ibn al-Kalbī in his narration and was said to be trustworthy and reliable.84 Like Hishām, Ibn Ḥabīb likely held Shīᶜite sympathies, which is evident in how major Sunnī scholars ignored him.85 Ibn Ḥabīb’s works are important because he wrote before several other great historians, including al-Yaᶜqūbī and al-Ṭabarī. Indeed, Ibn Isḥāq (d. 151/761) and Ibn Hishām (d. 218/833) preceded him, but even al-Balādhurī (d. ca. 279/892) relied on him,86 and we know of Hishām ibn al-Kalbī’s Jamharat al-nasab only as narrated by Ibn Ḥabīb. This suggests the significant contribution of Ibn Ḥabīb’s work, especially considering that he lived in Sāmarrā’ during the reign of al-Mutawakkil after the miḥna, where he also died.87 His extant books include al-Muḥabbar, al-Munammaq, Mukhtalaf al-qabā’il, and Ummahāt al-nabī. Thus, Ibn Ḥabīb provides our analysis of conversion themes with a post-miḥna Shīᶜite perspective.
Al-Zubayr ibn Bakkār (d. 256/870) Al-Zubayr was born in Medina in 172/788, and became the qādī of Mecca, where he died in 256/870 at eighty-four years old.88 He was the nephew of Muṣᶜab al-Zubayrī (d. 236/851), whom we discussed earlier. It appears that al-Zubayr had a strong relationship with al-Mutawakkil (r. 232/847–247/ 861), as it is reported that al-Zubayr wrote a book dedicated to al-Muwaffaq, the son of al-Mutawakkil, titled al-Muwaffaqiyyāt, which discussed humorous episodes in history.89 Like his uncle Muṣᶜab, it appears that al-Zubayr was a devoted follower of the school of Imam Mālik.90 We can be certain to a large extent of his Sunnī sympathies, as al-Dhahabī points to some Sunnī
84 Al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 3:87–88; Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam, 6:2480–2482; al-Samᶜānī, Ansāb, 12:111. Ibn al-Nadīm (d. 385/995) and Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī (d. 627/1229) believe that Ibn Ḥabīb al-Baghdādī’s books “are sound,” as they refer to a long list of works, most of which are now lost. Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 106–107; Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam, 6:2480–2482. 85 Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam, 6:2480–2482. It should be noted that various later historians seem to have ignored Ibn Ḥabīb for unknown reasons. He is not mentioned by al-Ṭabarī, al-Dhahabī, or Ibn ᶜAsākir, among others. He was identified as an illegitimate son, and his nasab “Ḥabīb” actually refers to his mother. He was also accused of stealing complete works and attributing them to himself. 86 Al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 1:16, 35; 4:200, et passim. 87 Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam, 6:2480–2482. 88 Al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 12:311–312; al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 19:137–140; Wakīᶜ, Akhbār al-quḍāt, 203, 269; Ibn Abī Ḥātim al-Rāzī, Jarḥ, 3:585; Ibn Ḥibbān, Thiqāt, 8:257. 89 Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 111, where he calls it kitāb muzāḥ (humor book); al-Ziriklī, Aᶜlām, 3:42; Muṣṭafā, Ta’rīkh, 1:196ff. 90 Al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 15:138.
Attempts at Compromise 187 authorities who consider al-Zubayr reliable in his reports, including al- Dāraquṭnī.91 Because of his Sunnī stature, Ibn Māja and Abū Ḥātim al-Rāzī narrated on his authority.92 Ibn al-Nadīm states that al-Zubayr wrote many books, including Kitāb azwāj al-nabī and Jamharat nasab Quraysh, which are extant.93 He also wrote Kitāb Nasab Quraysh, which is, according to al- Dhahabī, kitāb kabīr nafīs (lengthy precious book).94 In short, al-Zubayr was a Mālikī historian who served the Caliph al-Mutawakkil.
Abū al-Qāsim ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam (d. 257/871) Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam (d. 257/871) was born and died in Egypt.95 He was the son of Abū Muḥammad, whom we discussed earlier.96 Concerning his religious views, Rosenthal explains that the wealthy and influential family of Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam introduced Mālikism into Egypt and financially supported al-Shāfiᶜī and his religious career.97 However, during the miḥna period, they had to disassociate themselves from al-Shāfiᶜī’s teachings due to persecution, especially during the reign of al-Wāthiq (r. 228/842–233/847), who continued what al- Ma’mūn (r. 198/813–218/833) started.98
91 Al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 12:313–314; al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 19:138. 92 Al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 12:312; al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 9:486. 93 Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 110; al-Ziriklī, Aᶜlām, 3:42; Kaḥḥāla, Muᶜjam, 4:180. 94 Al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 12:312; see al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 9:486. 95 Al-Ziriklī, Aᶜlām, 3:282, 3:313. His father ᶜAbdullāh Abū Muḥammad (d. 214/829) is also known as Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam al-Miṣrī (al-Ziriklī, Aᶜlām, 4:95). Brockelmann, Ta’rīkh, 3:75–76. 96 One should distinguish between Abū Muḥammad and his firstborn son, the renowned Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam (d. 257/871), who wrote Kitāb Futūḥ Miṣr wa-l-Maghrib. The father is usually referred to as Abū Muḥammad. See Rosenthal, “Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam,” EI2, 3:674–675. The father, also known as Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam, was born in Alexandria, Egypt, in 155/771, and died in al-Fusṭāṭ in 214/829. He wrote Sīrat ᶜUmar ibn ᶜAbd al-ᶜAzīz. Al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 15:220ff; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 10:220– 223. On Abū Muḥammad’s life and works, see the study of Brockopp, Early, ch. 1; also Brockopp, “Slavery,” 22ff. Abū Muḥammad’s father lived and died in Alexandria in 161/777. See al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 10:311. 97 Rosenthal, “Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam,” EI2, 3:674–675. See also al-Shīrāzī, Ṭabaqāt al-fuqahā’, 1:151; al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 15:220ff; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 10:220–223, where we are told he was buried next to al-Shāfiᶜī. The family was prestigious and included renowned legal scholars and historians in third/ ninth century Egypt. 98 See Rosenthal, “Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam,” EI2, 3:674, where he writes, “Their prominent position brought them the usual share of tribulations. Thus, they suffered persecution during the Muᶜtazilī miḥna in 227/842, and in 237/851 they were among those accused of having misappropriated the confiscated property of a former high official that the central government claimed for itself.” For the miḥna in Egypt, see van Ess, Theology, 3:513ff., especially 517, where he argues that Muᶜtazilism was quite uncommon in Egypt; Jadᶜān, al-Miḥna, 55ff. For the historical context of the Futūḥ Miṣr, see Wright, “Ibn ᶜAbd Al-Ḥakam’s ‘Futūḥ Miṣr,’ ” 31–49.
188 Conversion to Islam Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam is well-known for his Futūḥ Miṣr wa akhbāruhā.99 According to Noth and Conrad, this work is one of the earliest known “thematically restricted” accounts on futūḥ.100 Concerning its possible doctrinal bias, Robert Brunschvig demonstrates that Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam’s accounts reflected the fiqh debates of his day.101 Recognizing the possible bias and contradictions in Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam’s accounts, Wright argues that, although these accounts “may not illuminate historical truth, they do offer a window into Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam’s world.”102 Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam was, therefore, a Sunnī jurist and historian. His Futūḥ Miṣr is a valuable source for our analysis, as it reflects the earliest Muslim account on the conversion of Egypt’s Copts and also how doctrinal debates and jurisprudence concerns affect historiographical narratives.
ᶜUmar ibn Shabba (d. 262/875) ᶜUmar ibn Shabba was born in 173/789 in Baṣra, as a mawlā of the Banū Numayr, and died in Sāmarrā’ in 262/875 around the age of ninety.103 He was known as a historian, educator, poet, mustaqīm al-ḥadīth (sound in his traditions), and an expert in akhbār, specifically akhbār wa ta’rīkh al-nās (history of men).104 As for his religious inclinations, he was reportedly submitted 99 Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam’s work is known by different titles: Kitāb Futūḥ Miṣr, Kitāb Futūḥ Miṣr wa Ifrīqiyā, Kitāb Futūḥ Miṣr wa-l-Maghrib, or Kitāb Futūḥ Miṣr wa-l-Maghrib wa-l-Andalus. Brockelmann, Ta’rīkh, 3:75–76. For the manuscripts, see Wright, “Ibn ᶜAbd Al-Ḥakam’s ‘Futūḥ Miṣr,’ ” 1–33. See Ibrahim, Stated, ch. 2. Kennedy, Great, 154–159. See also Noth, “The ‘Ṣulḥ’-’ᶜAnwa’ for Egypt and Iraq,” in Expansion, ed. Donner, 177–187. 100 Donner, Narratives, 135–136. In this work, Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam’s emphasis is on Egypt, its administration, geography, and settlement in the early period—and, to a much lesser extent, North Africa. See Sezgin, Ta’rīkh, 1:2:233–235; Robinson, Historiography, 34. His Kitāb Futūḥ Miṣr was scholarly and critically edited by Charles Torrey in 1922. For an early Christian (polemic) Chalcedonian account describing this conquest (dating from the early ninth century), see Theophanes, Chronicle, 37–39. Theophanes perceives Muhammad as a false prophet ruling over the Arabs and believes that his successors were invaders of Arab Christians (34–36). For an even earlier work by a Monophysite, see John, Bishop of Nikiu, Chronicle, 124ff. 101 Robert Brunschvig, “Ibn ᶜAbd Al-Ḥakam,” in Expansion, ed. Donner, 189–228. 102 See Wright, “Ibn ᶜAbd Al-Ḥakam’s ‘Futūḥ Miṣr,’ ” 229. Regarding Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam’s contradicting reports, see Noth/Conrad, Early, 8–9; also al-Dūrī, Rise, 71. 103 Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 112; Ibn Abī Ḥātim al-Rāzī, Jarḥ, 6:116; Ibn Ḥibbān, Thiqāt, 8:446; al- Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 13:45; Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam, 5:2093; Ibn Khallikān, Wafayāt, 3:440; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 12:369–370; al-Ṣafadī, Wāfī, 22:301; Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī, Tahdhīb, 7:460– 461; al-Ziriklī, Aᶜlām, 5:47–48; Kaḥḥāla, Muᶜjam, 7:286. 104 S. Leder, “ᶜUmar b. Shabba,” in EI2, 10:826–827, where he explains, “ ‘Shabba’ [is] a nickname taken from a song that his father’s mother used to sing for him when he was a boy.” Al-Ziriklī, Aᶜlām, 5:47–48; Kaḥḥāla, Muᶜjam, 7:286. Ibn Shabba was a prolific historian, according to the list of books provided by Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 112–113; Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam, 5:2093; al-Ṣafadī, Wāfī,
Attempts at Compromise 189 to the miḥna test and was later persecuted because he insisted the Qur’ān was uncreated; this led to the burning of many of his books, though some survived.105 He was thus anti-Muᶜtazilite. Moreover, he is identified as Shīᶜite by Petersen, who calls him “a Basrian historian with Shiite inclinations and with faiblesse for the historical anecdote.”106 While most of his works are lost, his Kitāb Ta’rīkh al-madīna is extant.107 Al-Ṭabarī often relies on Ibn Shabba’s accounts and preserves many of his quotations, which demonstrates their importance.108 Due to his anti-Muᶜtazilite and Shīᶜite dispositions, it is valuable to examine his writings in order to compare them with other accounts and analyze whether his religio-political views influenced his literary choices on conversion.
Ibn Qutayba al-Dīnawarī (d. 276/889) Ibn Qutayba was born in Kūfa in 213/828 and died in Baghdad in 276/889. He was “one of the great Sunnī polygraphs of the 3rd/9th century.”109 Ibn al-Nadīm states that Ibn Qutayba “was honest in what he narrates.”110 Al- Dhahabī observes that Ibn Qutayba was renowned as a scholar, jurist, writer, and linguist with remarkable knowledge in ᶜilm al-lisān al-ᶜarabī (Arabic linguistics) and al-akhbār wa ayyām al-nās (history and chronicles of men), and that ᶜinduh funūn jamma wa ᶜulūm muhimma (he possessed a multitude of arts and important sciences), although he was not sāḥib ḥadīth (a traditionist).111 Regarding Ibn Qutayba’s religious inclination, when examining his teachers,
22:301. Concerning his reliability, Ibn Abī Ḥātim and Ibn Ḥibbān place him among the trustworthy, while al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Ibn Khallikān, al-Dhahabī, and Ibn Ḥajar maintain he was ṣadūq (reliable and trusted). Ibn Abī Ḥātim al-Rāzī, Jarḥ, 6:116; Ibn Ḥibbān, Thiqāt, 8:446; al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 13:45; Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam, 5:2093; Ibn Khallikān, Wafayāt, 3:440; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 12:369–370; al-Ṣafadī, Wāfī, 22:301; Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī, Tahdhīb, 7:460–461. 105 Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 112; al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 13:45; S. Leder, “ᶜUmar b. Shabba,” in EI2, 10:826. 106 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 92, 150–151, quote from 151. 107 Brockelmann, Ta’rīkh, 3:24–25; Sezgin, Ta’rīkh, 1:2:205–207. 108 Robinson, Historiography, 55; Donner, Narratives, 225 n.49. For the apparent bias of al-Ṭabarī’s quotations of ᶜUmar ibn Shabba, see Petersen, ᶜAlī, 92, 150–151. 109 G. Lecomte, “Ibn Ḳutayba,” EI2, 3: 844–847, quote from 844. See al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 11:411; Ibn Khallikān, Wafayāt, 3:42–43; Ibn Taghrībirdī, Nujūm, 3:75. Adab (plural is ādāb) denotes “literature” and usually means belles-lettres. See Petersen, ᶜAlī, 202. 110 Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 77. 111 Al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 13:296ff, quote from 13:297, 13:300.
190 Conversion to Islam one can easily deduce that most were known for their Sunnī orientation.112 He was Ḥanbalī and anti-Muᶜtazilite.113 As for his views of ᶜAlī and ahl al-bayt (the household of Muhammad), he was unique. He appears to have respected them, without compromising his Sunnī inclinations.114 Politically, he seems to have been favored by al-Mutawakkil, especially after the miḥna ended.115 This brought him high rank, and he was appointed as qāḍī of Dīnawar around 236/ 851.116 The political officials reportedly favored him, as evidenced by his later appointment as inspector of the maẓālim of Baṣra.117 Moreover, he appears to have had strong relations with the Ṭāhirid governors of Baghdad, which might have granted him some political influence.118 Many of Ibn Qutayba’s works have survived.119 His two sons took his works westward to Egypt, and the works
112 Lecomte observes, “Among the most important of them we find men who owe their reputations generally to their attachment to the Sunna, either as theologians, traditionists or philologists, or usually as all three.” G. Lecomte, “Ibn Ḳutayba,” EI2, 3:844. Further, Lecomte adds, “Thus all the religious, political and literary work of Ibn Qutayba combines to make him an eminent representative, if not the exclusive spokesman, of the ahl al-Sunna wa ‘l-Djiamāᶜa, who in fact from this period were the party of the ᶜAbbāsid dynasty after it abandoned the Muᶜtazili ideology” (486). 113 Lecomte, “Ibn Ḳutayba,” EI2, 3: 844; David Thomas, “Abū Muḥammad ᶜAbdallāh ibn Qutayba,” in Christian-Muslim, ed. Thomas, 816, where he states, “Ibn Qutayba was educated in conservative intellectual circles, and he identified himself as a follower of Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal.” However, he was accused of the doctrine of al-tashbīh (likening Allah to his created men, anthropomorphism). Al- Dhahabī, Siyar, 13:298—301. For the theological persuasion of Muᶜtazilism regarding the Qur’ān and the ḥadīth, see Melchert, “Aḥmad Ibn Ḥanbal,” 22–34. For a good list of studies on Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal and Ḥanbalism, see 27. 114 Lecomte concludes, “although [Ibn Qutayba’s] attitude concerning the Companions is that which remained in later times the touchstone of the Sunna, he nevertheless retained a deep and reverent respect for the family and descendants of the Prophet, so far as they were politically neutral.” G. Lecomte, “Ibn Ḳutayba,” EI2, 3:846. 115 G. Lecomte, “Ibn Ḳutayba,” EI2, 3:846, where he writes, “Ibn Qutayba found himself favoured [by al-Mutawakkil because of his literary works, the ideas of which tallied pretty well with the new trend.” See also Thomas, “Abū Muḥammad ᶜAbdallāh ibn Qutayba,” in Christian-Muslim, ed. Thomas, 816, where he states, “His ideas found favour with the Caliph al-Mutawakkil, and from about 851 he held the post of qāḍī under the patronage of the vizier al-Fatḥ ibn Khāqān. He lost this post when the latter fell from favor in 870.” 116 G. Lecomte, “Ibn Ḳutayba,” EI2, 3: 844. Moreover, Ibn Khallikān reports that Ibn Qutayba wrote Kitāb al-iṣlāḥ precisely to ᶜUbayd Allāh ibn Yaḥyā Ibn Khāqān, who was vizier of al-Muᶜtamid. Ibn Khallikān, Wafayāt, 3:42–43. 117 Lecomte observes that Ibn Qutayba might have obtained this position due “to the favour of another powerful official of the ᶜAbbāsid administration, possibly the Nestorian convert Ṣāᶜid b. Makhlad.” See G. Lecomte, “Ibn Ḳutayba,” EI2, 3: 845. We know that the pro-Umayyad views and traditions continued to flourish in Baṣra. See Petersen, ᶜAlī, 112–113. See also Rosenthal, “Review,” 537. On the Maẓālim court under the ᶜAbbāsids, see al-Māwardī, al-Aḥkām al-sulṭāniyya, 130ff.; al-Fāᶜūrī, Dīwān al-maẓālim fī al-ᶜaṣr al-ᶜabbāsī, 13ff. According to Intisar Rabb, maẓālim is “jurisdiction within institutions designed to offer recourse for injustices of public officials, redress contraventions of justice in the courts, and impose criminal sanctions.” See Intisar Rabb, “Police,” in Princeton, ed. Böwering et al., 428. 118 Ibn Qutayba, ᶜUyūn al-akhbār, 2:242, 3:63; Lecomte, “Ibn Ḳutayba,” EI2, 3:845. 119 Lecomte, “Ibn Ḳutayba,” EI2, 3:845: “It can be stated that, with the exception of two titles, all the authentic works of Ibn Qutayba as at present known have been published.” Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 77–78; Petersen, ᶜAlī, 140, 181.
Attempts at Compromise 191 eventually reached al-Andalus.120 In short, Ibn Qutayba was Ḥanbalī and anti- Muᶜtazilite. He respected ahl al-bayt without compromising his Sunnī views and was involved with government authorities.
Yaᶜqūb ibn Sufyān al-Fasawī (d. 277/890) Yaᶜqūb al-Fasawī was of Persian origin, born in Fasā in Fars, and known as a remarkable muḥaddith (traditionist).121 Because of his legacy as a Sunnī traditionist, two of the major Sunnī traditionists, al-Tirmidhī (d. 279/892) and al-Nasā’ī (d. 303/915), narrated on his authority.122 When asked about his reliable teacher, al-Fasawī reportedly declared two names, including Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal.123 While this might indicate that al-Fasawī was influenced by the Ḥanbalī views, it is reported that he was anti-ᶜUthmānid and of a Shīᶜite sympathy.124 Further, it is reported that his work as a historian influenced al- Dhahabī in his Ta’rīkh.125 Yaᶜqūb al-Fasawī’s extant works are al-Ta’rīkh al- kabīr and al-Mashyakha (or Muᶜjam al-shuyūkh).126 Considering his Ḥanbalī leaning, anti-ᶜUthmān sympathies, and alleged Shīᶜite inclinations, as well as his historiographical accounts on the Prophet’s companions and early Islam, al-Fasawī’s works will prove helpful in analyzing conversion themes. 120 On Aḥmad, see Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam, 1:293, where he is reported to be responsible for transmitting all the books of his father to Egypt, where he was a qāḍī until his death. See al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 13:299; al-Dhahabī, Tadhkirat, 3:25; G. Lecomte, “Ibn Ḳutayba,” EI2, 3:845. 121 Al-Samᶜānī, Ansāb, 10:222; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 13:180 (al-Fasawī was born around 190 during the reign of al-Rashīd); al-Ṣafadī, al-Wāfī, 28:95. He traveled to the Hijaz, Palestine, Egypt, Syria, Iraq, and Mesopotamia; thus, he was called al-raḥḥāla (the explorer), as his overall travel time exceeded thirty years. See Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī, Tahdhīb, 11:385–387; Melchert, “al-Fasawī, Yaᶜqūb b. Sufyān,” in EI3; Muṣṭafā, Ta’rīkh, 1:222–223. He died in Baṣra, but his death date is disputed; the majority state he died in 277/890, while some claim it was a few years later. Ibn Abī Ḥātim al- Rāzī, Jarḥ, 9:208, writes 277/890; Ibn Ḥibbān, Thiqāt, 9:287, indicates 280/892 or 281/893. Muṣṭafā, Ta’rīkh, 1:222–223. 122 Ibn Abī Ḥātim al-Rāzī, Jarḥ, 9:208; al-Samᶜānī, Ansāb, 10:222; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 13:180; al- Ṣafadī, Wāfī, 28:95; Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī, Tahdhīb, 11:385–387. 123 Ibn Abī Yaᶜlā, Ṭabaqāt al-ḥanābila, 1:416. Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal (d. 241/855) was the defining figure of Sunnism and anti-Muᶜtazilism during his time. See Melchert, “Aḥmad Ibn Ḥanbal,” 22–34. 124 Al-Dhahabī, Tadhkirat, 2:122; al-Ṣafadī, Wāfī, 28:95. 125 Muṣṭafā, Ta’rīkh, 1:223. 126 Al-Dhahabī, Tadhkirat, 2:122; Muṣṭafā, Ta’rīkh, 1:223; Sezgin, Ta’rīkh, 1:2:150–151, though Sezgin does not mention al-Mashyakha. Brockelmann, Ta’rīkh, 3:43; Robinson, Historiography, 59; Donner, Narratives, 241, where he writes on the lost part which tells of Islamic origins. The al-Ta’rīkh al-kabīr includes two major parts: one, describing various political events related to Islamic origins, is mostly lost except what al-Dhahabī kept in his Ta’rīkh; the other, providing information on the Prophet’s companions and followers, is extant. See Donner, Narratives, 241; Muṣṭafā, Ta’rīkh, 1:223. As for Kitāb al-mashyakha, it is a muᶜjam (lexicon) describing the shuyūkh (sheikhs) he encountered in his travels, arranged according to the lands he visited. Muṣṭafā, Ta’rīkh, 1:223.
192 Conversion to Islam
Aḥmad Ibn Yaḥyā al-Balādhurī (d. ca. 279/892) During the second half of the third hijrī century, there was a significant boost in history writing among Muslims.127 Al-Balādhurī is a clear example of such a breakthrough. In classical works, al-Balādhurī is known as an eloquent writer and Persian-Arabic translator, as well as shāᶜir wa mu’arrikh (poet and historian).128 His important works, Futūḥ al-buldān and Ansāb al-ashrāf, reflect a sophisticated writing style which relies heavily on chronology and logical sequence, oral and written sources, and even critical evaluation of his own sources.129 Writing of the importance of al-Balādhurī’s work and comparing it with that of Ibn Isḥāq’s, Robinson observes, “there is still a world of difference between Ibn Isḥāq on the one hand, and al-Balādhurī on the other. The former was an authority whose work was eclipsed by what became normative version (Ibn Hishām’s); the latter was an author-historian whose work copyists copied.”130 This reflects the importance of al-Balādhurī’s works, as his groundbreaking accounts changed the course of future Muslim historiographical writing. Al-Balādhurī is identified as an Arab historian of Persian descent, born and raised in Baghdad.131 His historical works should be placed at the backdrop of his reported relationship with various important ᶜAbbāsid caliphs: He was one of the nudamā’ (drinking peers) of al-Mutawakkil (r. 232/847–247/861) and one of the julasā’ (sitting companions) of al-Mustaᶜīn (r. 248/862–252/ 866).132 He not only praised al-Ma’mūn (r. 198/813–218/833) and wrote poems in his admiration, but also remained close to al-Mutawakkil and was 127 See Robinson, Historiography, 39–40, where he defines this time period (after 215/830) by its “explosive growth of historical narrative” (39). Robinson further explains, “The rise of the historiographic tradition, whether or not it was triggered by caliphal patronage, was a deeply political process” (40). See also Becker and Rosenthal, “Al-Balādhurī,” EI2, 1:971–972; Petersen, ᶜAlī, 109–112. 128 Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 113 (al-Balādhurī was a poet and narrator); Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam, 2:530–535 (he was an eloquent writer, poet, translator); al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 13:162–163 (eloquent poet); Ibn Taghrībirdī, Nujūm, 3:83 (eloquent writer); al-Ziriklī, Aᶜlām, 1:267; Kaḥḥāla, Muᶜjam, 2:201–202 (poet, historian, translator); Becker and Rosenthal, “Al-Balādhurī,” EI2, 1:971. 129 Al-Dūrī, Rise, 61–64. On al-Balādhurī, see the introduction of the editor S. D. Goitein to Ansāb al-ashrāf, 9–16. See Faizer, “Ibn Isḥāq,” 5, where he argues that al-Balādhurī relied on al-Wāqidī, while al-Ṭabarī on Ibn Isḥāq. On the work Ansāb al-ashrāf, see Robinson, Historiography, 35, describing it as “a genealogical work filled with historical material.” Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 113; Ibn Taghrībirdī, Nujūm, 3:83; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 13:162–163. For a critical assessment of Ansāb al-ashrāf, see Djait, Tārīkhiyyat al-daᶜwa al-Muḥammadiyya, 233–240. 130 See Robinson, Historiography, 40. 131 See Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 113; al-Dūrī, Rise, 61–64. 132 Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam, 2:534; al-Ṣafadī, Wāfī, 8:155–156. For the meaning of the word nadīm (pl. nudamā’), see Ibn Manẓūr, Lisān, 1:489, 3:289, 7:293, 12:572–573. See also al-Rāzī, Mukhtār al-Ṣaḥḥāḥ, 307; al-Fīrūzābādī, al-Qāmūs, 298, 1162. Petersen renders nadīm (pl. nudamā’) as “boon companion.” Petersen, ᶜAlī, 72.
Attempts at Compromise 193 present in his caliphal gatherings.133 This demonstrates the substantial involvement of al-Balādhurī with the caliphal authorities, during and after the miḥna.134 Concerning his political inclination, Petersen argues that al-Balādhurī is a clear example of a pro-Umayyad historian who “respects the legitimacy of the Umayyad caliphate even if he is not personally sympathetic towards the Syrian rulers [and their worldliness].”135 This is another example, in addition to Khalīfa al-Khayyāṭ, of a pro-Umayyad voice permeating ᶜAbbāsid-era works.136 Al-Balādhurī represents a remarkable precedent of a historian serving the ᶜAbbāsids without adopting a sharp hostility to their Umayyad rivals. Regarding his religious sympathies, he is recognized as a Sunnī scholar.137 In modern scholarship, the value of al-Balādhurī’s works is sometimes exaggerated. For instance, Petersen seems captivated by them, praising them as “reliable” and asserting that they “surpass by far most of the classical Islamic historians’ works on account of his apparent impartiality.”138 Petersen’s statements are exaggerated, though clearly representative of his high regard for al-Balādhurī’s accounts. Every author is biased and partial 133 Al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 20:289–290, 22:89; Ibn Taghrībirdī, Nujūm, 3:83. Regarding praising al- Ma’mūn, see Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam, 2:530–535, where al-Balādhurī is reported to have written madā’iḥ (long poetry of praise) for al-Ma’mūn. Al-Balādhurī’s grandfather, Jābir, was secretary under al-Khaṣīb, governor of Egypt. Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 113; al-Ṣafadī, Wāfī, 8:155–156; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 13:162–163; Becker and Rosenthal, “Al-Balādhurī,” EI2, 1:971. This suggests that al-Balādhurī and his grandfather (both writers) had developed good relationships with rulers and people in power in the ᶜAbbāsid Caliphate. He reportedly died during the reign of al-Muᶜtamid (r. 256/870–279/ 892), though some reports place his death during the earliest days of al-Muᶜtaḍid (r. 279/892–289/ 902). Al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 20:289; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 13:162–163; al-Ṣafadī, Wāfī, 8:155–156. 134 See Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam, 2:530–535, where we can affirm that al-Balādhurī, as a young adult, joined the palace of al-Ma’mūn and organized praise poetry for him. The reports are insufficient regarding al-Balādhurī’s activity during the reign of al-Muᶜtaṣim and al-Wāthiq; however, we know that he received the attention of al-Mutawakkil and became an important figure in the caliphal court again. It appears that al-Balādhurī remained in this position in the ᶜAbbāsid palace during the reign of al-Muntaṣir, al-Mustaᶜīn, and al-Muᶜtazz. We have scarce information about his caliphal activity during al-Muhtadī, yet it appears that his relationship with al-Muᶜtamid was not good. Yaqūt writes that al-Balādhurī had severe debts during his last years and needed money during the reign of al-Muᶜtamid to pay them off. During his last years, he lost his sanity after using balādhur (Anacardium) and died in the hospital while being treated for insanity. Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam, 2:530–535; Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 113; al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 20:289–290, 22:89; Ibn Taghrībirdī, Nujūm, 3:83; al-Ziriklī, Aᶜlām, 1:267, where he writes that al-Balādhurī had dhuhūl shabīh bi-l-junūn (ecstasy that looked like lunacy or dementia) after using balādhur (Anacardium). 135 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 146. Petersen also asserts that al-Balādhurī is our main source of the Syrian- Medinese tradition of the fitna of ᶜAlī and Muᶜāwiya (109); see also 109–112, 136–148. 136 See Petersen, ᶜAlī, 109ff, 133ff.; Hibri, “Redemption,” 241ff.; Borrut, Entre, ch. 1. 137 See Petersen, ᶜAlī, 136. 138 See Petersen, ᶜAlī, 136 (emphasis mine), where he writes that there are at least three reasons for esteeming al-Balādhurī as a “reliable” historian: (1) his impartiality, (2) his critique of the pro- Umayyad sympathy, and (3) his methodology, honest technique, and sincere quotation of opposing parties.
194 Conversion to Islam to particular views—even al-Balādhurī himself. Other scholars evaluate al- Balādhurī’s works in a more balanced way.139 Robinson argues that historians of al-Balādhurī’s time tended to be authors of history rather than compilers and collectors of reports—they “impressed their vision upon the material” by “breaking them up, by rephrasing, supplementing and composing anew.”140 One should not ignore al-Balādhurī’s close relationship with various ᶜAbbāsid caliphs, writing poems praising al-Ma’mūn and participating in al-Mutwakkil’s caliphal gatherings as his drinking peer.141 This does not advance “apparent impartiality” and likely influenced his historiographical reports. In short, al-Balādhurī was a Sunnī, anti-Shiite, pro-Umayyad historian, poet, and translator, who served under ᶜAbbāsid caliphs during and after the miḥna.
Ibn Abī Khaythama (d. 279/892) Ibn Abī Khaythama is known as muḥaddith, akhbārī, nassāba, shāᶜir (traditionist, historian, genealogist, and poet).142 Because of his clear Sunnī inclination, he was known as al-Nasā’ī al-Baghdādī.143 His father died in 243/ 857 and was reportedly a student of at least four great scholars: Yaḥyā ibn Maᶜīn in ḥadīth, Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal in fiqh, Muṣᶜab al-Zubayrī (d. 236/ 851) in nasab, and al-Madā’inī (d. 228/843) in ta’rīkh.144 This indicates his 139 See Becker and Rosenthal, “Al-Balādhurī,” EI2, 1:972, where they write, “In spite of all al- Balādhurī’s merits, his value as a historical source has been occasionally overestimated in certain respects. It is not correct to say that he always gives the original texts, which later writers embellished and expanded; it may be with much more truth presumed, from the agreement of essential portions of his works with later more detailed works, that al-Balādhurī abridged the material at his disposal in a number of cases, though he often remained faithful to his sources.” See also Kennedy, Great, 16. 140 Robinson, Historiography, 35–36; Donner, Narratives, 127ff.; Hodgson, “Two Pre-Modern Muslim Historians,” in Towards, ed. Nef, 53–69. 141 A more nuanced view of al-Balādhurī appears in Fred Donner’s analysis, as he compares al- Balādhurī’s accounts with those of the highly esteemed al-Ṭabarī. Donner observes, “Al-Balādhurī’s Futūḥ offers much fuller information on early administrative institutions than does al-Ṭabarī.” Donner, Narratives, 132–133. 142 Yāqūt al- Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam, 1:262; al- Dhahabī, Tadhkirat, 2:130; Ch. Pellat, “Ibn Abī Khaythama,” EI2, 3:687. His birth and death dates are disputed. Other dates are 205/820 and 299/ 912, but, as Pellat observes, they seem too late. Sezgin, Ta’rīkh, 1:2:150–151; al-Ziriklī, Aᶜlām, 1:128; Kaḥḥāla, Muᶜjam, 8:261. 143 The label al-Nasā’ī al-Baghdādī was given to him because he was born in Nasā in Baghdād in 185/801, where he also died in 279/892, during the reign of al-Muᶜtamid (r. 256/870–279/892). Al- Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 5:265; Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam, 1:262; Ibn Abī Yaᶜlā, Ṭabaqāt, 1:44; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 11:492ff.; al-Dhahabī, Tadhkirat, 2:130. 144 Al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 5:265; al-Dhahabī, Tadhkirat, 2:130; al-Samᶜānī, Ansāb, 3:277, 5:115; Pellat, “Ibn Abī Khaythama,” EI2, 3:687. See also Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 110, about how Muṣᶜab influenced him, and on Ibn Ḥanbal (229). See also Ibn Abī Yaᶜlā, Ṭabaqāt, 1:44.
Attempts at Compromise 195 Ḥanbalī inclination, especially as it is reported that, during the miḥna, Ibn Abī Khaythama was identified as being pro-Ḥanbalism.145 Furthermore, Petersen observes that Ibn Abī Khaythama and his father were responsible for bringing the pro-Umayyad tradition to Baghdad.146 This is significant, as it provides us with the third example in this chapter—after Khalīfa and al-Balādhurī—of a historian who lived under the ᶜAbbasids yet adopted pro- Umayyad sympathies. Ibn al-Nadīm mentions several of Ibn Abī Khaythama’s works, including Kitāb al-ᶜarab and Akhbār al-shuᶜarā’, but only his Kitāb al-ta’rīkh is extant.147 Al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī highly praises Ibn Abī Khaythama’s Ta’rīkh and states, “I do not know more benefits than those gained by Kitāb al-ta’rīkh of Ibn Abī Khaythama.”148 Moreover, it appears that Ibn Abī Khaythama’s Ta’rīkh was used by al-Masᶜūdī.149 According to Pellat, “Nothing is known of Ibn Abī Khaythama’s life except that he was accused of ḳadar.”150 The Ta’rīkh of Ibn Abī Khaythama, therefore, is likely a pro-Umayyad and anti-Muᶜtazilite (Ḥanbalī-leaning) work. Its accounts on conversion to Islam will prove valuable to my investigation.
Abū Zurᶜa al-Rāzī al-Dimashqī (d. 281/894) According to al-Dhahabī, Abū Zurᶜa was sayyid al-ḥuffāẓ (the master of [memorizing] traditions), as he reportedly memorized “hundreds of thousands” of aḥādīth.151 He was a mawlā, born after 200/815 in al-Rayy, in Damascus. At the age of thirteen, he left his hometown and began a long
145 Ibn Abī Yaᶜlā, Ṭabaqāt, 1:44; al- Dhahabī, Siyar, 11:492ff; al- Dhahabī, Tadhkirat, 2:130. Petersen, ᶜAlī, 113; Melchert, Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal, 11, 27, 32, 96, 109. 146 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 113. 147 Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 230. Brockelmann, Ta’rīkh, 3:202. 148 Al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 5:265; also Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam, 1:262. 149 Ch. Pellat, “Ibn Abī Khaythama,” EI2, 3:687. 150 Ch. Pellat, “Ibn Abī Khaythama,” EI2, 3:687. Qadar here is a derogatory term that refers to those Muslims who refused to acknowledge Allah’s qadar. It refers to a classical Muslim doctrinal debate which flourished from the first/seventh to the third/ninth century, insisting on human free will in choosing good and evil and allowing Allah’s authority to judge, as humans are responsible for their actions. This school of thought was highly linked with Muᶜtazilism. On al-Qadariyya, see al-ᶜImrānī, al-Intiṣār fī al-radd ᶜalā al-muᶜtazila al-qadariyya al-ashrār. 151 Al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 13:65. See also Ibn Abī Yaᶜlā, Ṭabaqāt, 1:199–200; al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 12:33; Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 38:11ff. We should not confuse Abū Zurᶜa with another Abū Zurᶜa ibn ᶜAlī al-Rāzī al-Ṣaghīr (or al-Awsaṭ) who died in 375/986. Claude Gilliot, “Abū Zurᶜa al-Rāzī,” EI3. See al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 12:33; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 13: 65–85; Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 38:11ff.; Ibn Abī Ḥātim al-Rāzī, Jarḥ, 5:324–326.
196 Conversion to Islam journey, during which he lived in Hijaz, Syria, Iraq, Mesopotamia, Khurasān, and Egypt.152 Concerning his religious inclination, Abū Zurᶜa was a close friend of Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal and is reported to have been influenced greatly by him.153 In addition, we are told that Abū Zurᶜa was supportive of the Mālikī madhhab (school of jurisprudence) and among the most competent and well versed in the Mālikī traditions.154 Concerning his political leaning, Tobias Andersson argues that Abū Zurᶜa’s accounts seem pro-Umayyad, or at least pro-Muᶜāwiya.155 With the addition of Abū Zurᶜa, we now have four historians in this chapter who appear to have adopted pro-Umayyad inclinations under the ᶜAbbāsids in the post-miḥna period. Their voices are important as they reflect attempts at compromise in historical writing, which we will demonstrate in the following sections. As for Abū Zurᶜa’s works, his Ta’rīkh and al-Fawā’id are extant.156 Abū Zurᶜa, thus, was a Sunnī traditionist, following the school of Imam Mālik. He was a friend of Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal and had some pro-Umayyad inclinations.
Abū Ḥanīfa al-Dīnawarī (d. ca. 282/895) Abū Ḥanīfa was of Persian origin. Little is known about him, but no one doubts his importance as an Arab historian of the third/ninth century.157 He reportedly excelled in various arts, including grammar, linguistics, engineering, calculus, and even Indian studies.158 Concerning his religious 152 See al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh, 12:33; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 13: 65–85; Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 38:11ff.; Ibn Abī Ḥātim al-Rāzī, Jarḥ, 5:324–326. See al-Ziriklī, Aᶜlām, 4:194. See also Ibn Abī Yaᶜlā, Ṭabaqāt, 1:199–200. 153 Al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 13:65; Ibn Abī Yaᶜlā, Ṭabaqāt, 1:199–200; Ibn Abī Ḥātim al-Rāzī, Jarḥ, 1:328, 5:324–326; al-Mizzī, Tahdhīb al-kamāl fi asmā’ al-rijāl, 19:89–104. 154 Ibn Abī Ḥātim al-Rāzī, al-Jarḥ, 1:328, 5:324–326; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 13: 65–85; al-Mizzī, Tahdhīb, 19:89–104. He began his career as muḥaddith when he was thirty-two years old and died in 281/894, leaving a legacy of plenty of books. See al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 13:65–85, where he provides other conflicting reports about his death date. 155 Andersson, Early, 256. 156 Brockelmann, Ta’rīkh, 3:21; Sezgin, Ta’rīkh, 1:2:115–116. While his Fawā’id is merely a set of his collected aḥādīth, his Ta’rīkh reads more like a brief consecutive set of reports, providing dates of events and characteristics of people. Donner writes of Abū Zurᶜa’s Ta’rīkh, “it was clearly intended as a chronological aid or reference for use by those who needed to check relative or absolute chronological relationships among people and events that were already familiar to them.” Donner, Narratives, 240–241. 157 B. Lewin, “al-Dīnawarī,” EI2, 2:300. Muṣṭafā, Ta’rīkh, 1:247–248, where he is placed among al- mu’arrikhūn al-kibār (the major historians). According to Ibn al-Nadīm and Yāqūt, he died in 281/ 894 or 282/895. Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 78; Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam, 1:258; see also al-Ṣafadī, Wāfī, 6:233–234. 158 Al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 13:422–423; al-Ṣafadī, Wāfī, 6:233–234; also Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 78; al- Ziriklī, Aᶜlām, 1:123.
Attempts at Compromise 197 background, according to Petersen, he was a Shīᶜite historian and contemporary to al-Yaᶜqūbī (d. 284/897).159 Abū Ḥanīfa wrote many works, including al-Akhbār al-ṭiwāl, which is his only extant complete work.160 The work is important, as it provides a Shīᶜite perspective. Its accounts should be compared not only with Shīᶜite and pro-ᶜAlid works but also with pro-Umayyad accounts from the same period.
Ibn Wāḍiḥ al-Yaᶜqūbī (d. 284/897 or 292/905) Ibn Wāḍiḥ al-Yaᶜqūbī is known for his two important works, Ta’rīkh ibn Wāḍiḥ (or Ta’rīkh al-Yaᶜqūbī) and his geography of the lands, Kitāb al-buldān, in addition to one short treatise titled Mushākalat al-nās li-zamānihim, which discusses the trend of citizens to adopt the ways of life modeled by their rulers and figures of authority.161 He was known as al-Kātib al-ᶜAbbāsī (the ᶜAbbāsid scribe, nisba of the ᶜAbbāsid household), and his great-great- grandfather, Wāḍiḥ, was a mawlā of Banū Hāshim, who served under al- Manṣūr, al-Mahdī, and al-Hādī.162 The Ta’rīkh of al-Yaᶜqūbī is one of the 159 For more on al-Dīnawarī, see Petersen, ᶜAlī, 159–168; Robinson, Historiography, 98. 160 Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist, 78. See also Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam, 1:258; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 13:423; al-Ṣafadī, Wāfī, 6:234. B. Lewin, “al-Dīnawarī,” EI2, 2:300. On the manuscripts of this work, see Muṣṭafā, Ta’rīkh, 1:248. Abū Ḥanīfa’s work focuses primarily on Iran and Iraq. Fred Donner writes that Abū Ḥanīfa’s Kitāb al-akhbār “includes nothing on the Islamic conquests of Syria, Egypt, or the Maghrib, but has considerable detail on conquests in Iraq and Iran, against the Sasanians.” Donner, Narratives, 134–135. Al-Dīnawarī, Kitāb al-akhbār al-ṭiwāl, mentions one sentence on the conquest of Egypt (148). The work lacks isnād altogether, uniquely depicts the events from an Iranian perspective, mentions Muhammad only marginally and Islam merely upon the conquest of Persia, and emphasizes important Shīᶜite events such as Ṣiffīn and Ḥusayn’s death. Lewin, “al-Dīnawarī,” EI2, 2:300. Muṣṭafā, Ta’rīkh, 1:248. 161 On al-Yaᶜqūbī and his works, see Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam, 2:557. See also the dated yet very valuable dissertation of William Millward, “A Study of Al-Yaᶜqūbī with Special Reference to His Alleged Shīᶜa Bias”; Millward, “Adaptation,” 329–344; Ibrahim, Stated, ch. 2; Brockelmann, “Al- Yaᶜqūbī,” EI2, 11:257–258; al-Dūrī, Rise, 66; Petersen, ᶜAlī, 169; Donner, Narratives, 134; Khalidi, Arabic, 120ff., 131ff.; Robinson, Historiography, 36 (al-Yaᶜqūbī’s iconoclastic history, his Shīᶜite views, his style of no isnād, and how his Kitāb al-Buldān was a model for others), 76 (his historiographic style, especially how he treated the second fitna), 98 (eschewing isnād, and how later mainstream historians followed his work in style), 136–137 (the uniqueness of al-Yaᶜqūbī’s Ta’rīkh, especially as a Shīᶜite writing a universal history while omitting isnād altogether, and precisely relying on Christian and Jewish sources and comparing with non-Muslim dates). 162 Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam, 2:557; al-Maqrīzī, al-Mawāᶜiẓ wa-l-iᶜtibār fī dhikr al-khiṭaṭ wa- l-athār, 2:107; al-Yaᶜqūbī, Ta’rīkh, 2:447; Millward, “Study,” 5–6; Ibn Taghrībirdī, Nujūm, 2:40–41. Al-Yaᶜqūbī was born in Baghdad in the third/ninth century, then traveled and lived in Armenia and Khurāsān under the rule of the Ṭāḥirids Persian dynasty; when their rule fell apart, he traveled to Egypt, where he later died in 284/897 or, in better attested reports, in 292/905. Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Kitāb muᶜjam al-buldān, 1:161; Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muᶜjam al-udabā’, 2:557. The confusion regarding his death year is most likely because of the reports of Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, who placed it in 284/897; however, when taking the accounts of Kitāb al-Buldān into consideration, he must have died after 292/905. See Millward, “Study,” 5. On his biography and works, see Brockelmann, “Al-Yaᶜqūbī,” EI2,
198 Conversion to Islam earliest extant Muslim histories; it is an example of a universal historiography written by an author with obvious Shīᶜite sympathies who was also fond of geography, astrology, and chronology.163 The Shīᶜite view within al-Yaᶜqūbī’s work has drawn the attention of many scholars. William Millward traces the ᶜAlīd-Shīᶜa tradition in al-Yaᶜqūbī’s ancestors and explains that Wāḍiḥ had played a significant role in establishing the ᶜAlid kingdom in North Africa.164 ᶜAbd al-ᶜAzīz al-Dūrī argues that al-Yaᶜqūbī sympathizes with ᶜAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib, with apparent Shīᶜite tendencies.165 Like al-Dūrī, Donner points out that Ta’rīkh al-Yaᶜqūbī “is known for its moderate Shīᶜite orientation; this shows up, for example, in the way the author speaks of Abū Bakr, ᶜUmar, ᶜUthmān, and the Umayyad and ᶜAbbāsīd rulers, reserving the term ‘caliphate’ (khilāfa) for the reigns of ᶜAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib and his son al-Ḥasan.”166 Al-Yaᶜqūbī’s three extant works are significant to my investigation due to their date and Shīᶜite perspective.167 Furthermore, he wrote during the
11:257; Muṣṭafā, Ta’rīkh, 1:250–253. Note that the matter of his Shīᶜite sympathy is not conclusively solved. See Brockelmann, “Al-Yaᶜqūbī,” EI2, 11:257; also Millward, “Study,” where he traces the Shīᶜite attitudes in the three extant works of al-Yaᶜqūbī, pointing to various conclusions, yet none is completely specific on his sectarian orientation. See also the recent study of Sean Anthony, “Was Ibn Wāḍiḥ al-Yaᶜqūbī a Shiᶜite Historian?,” 15–41; Daniel, “al-Yaᶜqūbī and Shiᶜism Reconsidered,” in ᶜAbbasid, ed. Montgomery, 209ff. 163 Al-Dūrī, Rise, 66, 149, 150. See Khalidi, Arabic, 226, where Khalidi clearly identifies al-Yaᶜqūbī as a Shīᶜite historian. On Yaᶜqūbī’s Ta’rīkh, see Millward, “Study,” 78ff.; Robinson, Historiography, 36, 136–137, where he identifies Yaᶜqūbī’s Ta’rīkh as “iconoclastic history.” 164 Millward, “Study,” 6–7. 165 Al-Dūrī, Rise, 149–150. 166 Donner, Narratives, 134. See also Anthony, “Was Ibn Wāḍiḥ,” 15–41, where he concludes that “a careful reading of the narratives al-Yaʿqūbī recounts in his chronicle allows one to easily discern his place at the ‘rejectionist’, or Rāfiḍī, Shiᶜite end of this spectrum” (34). 167 His style is unique, according to Fred Donner, as al-Yaᶜqūbī places historiographical accounts into consecutive order without isnād, “because he explicitly states that he would relate only accounts that had found wide acceptance.” Donner, Narratives, 258; see also Petersen, ᶜAlī, 167. On the “concise” historiography, see Brockelmann, “Al-Yaᶜqūbī,” EI2, 11:257. His Ta’rīkh is unique for one more reason: He openly critiques his sources and does not compromise his apparent Shīᶜite perspective, especially when describing the days of the earliest three caliphs. Al-Dūrī, Rise, 66; Robinson, Historiography, 143. See also Petersen, ᶜAlī, 169–172. His Kitāb al-buldān describes the lands of Islam, their taxation, geography, and administration; the work is largely lost and was reportedly written in Egypt in 278/891. Brockelmann, “Al-Yaᶜqūbī,” EI2, 11:257. On this book, see Millward, “Study,” 11ff. On al-Yaᶜqūbī’s “unusual interest in astrology” as a geographer, see Khalidi, Arabic, 121ff., 226, where Khalidi clearly identifies al-Yaᶜqūbī as a Shīᶜite historian. It should be noted that there is only one mention of conversion in Buldān, 1:68. Al-Yaᶜqūbī’s Mushākalat al-nās li-zamānihim is the shortest of the three available texts ascribed to him. It more closely resembles a short article or brief essay. This treatise is unique in its inclusion of historiographical material. On this very short book and its manuscripts, see Millward, “Study,” 18ff., where he states, “it is one of the earliest extant examples of the historical essay type of composition in Arabic literature and it does have the merit of a novel title reflecting an idea which, so far as the present writer knows, was never treated in its own right beforehand” (22). The text refers to conversion to Islam only once: the Arabic edited text by Maḍyūf al-Farā, which refers to “conversion after apostasy” (195); see Millward,
Attempts at Compromise 199 second half of the third hijrī century, during a period of significant advancement in Muslim historical writing; his contemporaries include Ibn ᶜAbd al- Ḥakam (d. 257/871), al-Balādhurī (d. ca. 279/892), Abū Ḥanīfa al-Dīnawarī (d. ca. 282/895), and the highly esteemed al-Ṭabarī (d. 310/923).168 His work serves as a foundational point of reference against which other writings can be compared.
Concluding Remarks on Post-Miḥna Historians Based on the data we examined regarding post-miḥna historians, we now conclude with three important remarks. First, there seems to be a growing interest in historical writing during this era in comparison to previous generations.169 The number of historians grew significantly, and their works were more sophisticated and detailed toward the end of the period under study. The works of al-Balādhurī were more focused and sophisticated than earlier histories, such as, for instance, those of Ibn Sallām al-Jumaḥī (d. 232/847) and Yaḥyā ibn Maᶜīn (d. 233/847). Second, there was a discernable increase in the number of competing voices in historical writings. The voice of the Muᶜtazilite Ibn Saᶜd was met by three anti-Muᶜtazilite historians: Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, ᶜUmar ibn Shabba, and Ibn Qutayba. A significant number of Sunnī scholars emerged: Yaḥyā ibn Maᶜīn (Ḥanīfī); Muṣᶜab al-Zubayrī, Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam, and Abū Zurᶜa (Mālikī); Yaᶜqūb al-Fasawī (Ḥanbalī). We traced two openly Shiite historians, Abū Ḥanīfa al-Dīnawarī and al-Yaᶜqūbī, as well as Ibn Ḥabīb al-Baghdādī, who was not specifically identified as a Shiite yet was accused of Shīᶜism. We also encountered pro-Umayyad historians operating under the ᶜAbbāsids, “Study,” 242, and his English translation on 257, where he renders the conversion incident, “When he returned to Islam after having apostasized [sic] from it” (257). 168 In Chapter 1, I stated various reasons for ending my investigation just before al-Ṭabarī, as he appears to have been “doing more than merely collecting and arranging” historiographical material. See Robinson, Historiography, 35–36. Of course, Robinson writes not only of al-Ṭabarī but “also his contemporaries.” Al-Ṭabarī served as a filter. He was not simply narrating or collecting reports and arranging them chronologically. He and his contemporaries, as Robinson observes, “impressed their vision upon the material.” They were “breaking them up, by rephrasing, supplementing and composing anew.” Robinson, Historiography, 35–36, the quote is from 36. See also Borrut, Entre, 103–107; Muṣṭafā, Ta’rīkh, 1:264; Shoshan, Poetics, 61–107; Donner, Narratives, 127ff., on al-Ṭabarī’s creation of a master narrative; Hodgson, “Two Pre-Modern Muslim Historians,” in Towards, ed. Nef, 53–69, where he simply identifies al-Ṭabarī as an author, implying a creative treatment of historical material. 169 Robinson, Historiography, 34–35.
200 Conversion to Islam including al-Balādhurī and Ibn Abī Khaythama. In addition, we learned of the positive views of Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ and Abū Zurᶜa regarding the Umayyads. These examples suggest the growing number of competing voices in historical writings during the post-miḥna era, and how pro-Umayyad voices permeated ᶜAbbāsid-era accounts. Third, although there were still noticeable connections between some historians (e.g., Ibn Qutayba and al-Balādhurī) and caliphs, the failure of the miḥna granted the scholars more space to operate independently, terminating a period in which the caliphs served as sole arbiters in religious matters. Petersen rightly argues that, in the post-miḥna era, the caliphs not only relinquished their dominion over religious matters but also gradually declined in maintaining their political authority for various reasons (e.g., Turkish praetorians’ influence, Umayyads in al-Andalus, Ṭāhirids in Persia).170 Thus, while we detected possible strong ties between some post- miḥna historians and the caliphs, it appears that scholars received greater space since they won the fight for religious authority. This was evidenced by the trends which flourished in historiography, reflecting competing sectarian and political debates. This does not suggest that the religious scholars were completely independent in their intellectual endeavor. Muᶜtazilism had already challenged them by demanding critical reasoning and questioning traditions.171 This was evident in the writings of al-Shāfiᶜī (d. 204/820), who seems to have yielded to the criticism of Muᶜtazilism, as he criticized weak sunna and demanded validating traditions with strong isnāds reaching back to Muhammad himself.172 I argue that Muᶜtazilism seems to have obliged scholars to adopt a refined approach to tradition and historical writing. Although the ᶜulamā’ won in the conflict of the miḥna, they had to accept criticism and seek improved methods for dealing with accounts circulated by previous generations. Consequently, historians—who were essentially traditionists—were compelled to redesign various accounts and traditions. This, as Erling Petersen and Franz Rosenthal noted, demanded attempts at compromise in historical 170 See Petersen, ᶜAlī, 133–134. 171 On the criticism of Muᶜtazalism against the tradition, especially the aḥādīth, see the valuable discussion of Tunisian scholar Nājiya al-Wurayyimī, Fī al-I’tilāf, 191ff. See also Amīn, Ḍuḥā, 3:85–90. 172 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 123, where he also argues that al-Shāfiᶜī’s pupil, Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal, continued his teacher’s endeavor. On the importance of al-Shāfiᶜī to Sunnism, van Ess writes, “it was Shāfiᶜī who first established the valid standards for the later Sunnī awareness.” Van Ess, Theology, 1:44. For a recent critical (and controversial) study on al-Shāfiᶜī, see Zakariyyā Ūzūn, Jināyat al-Shāfiᶜī, 15–32, et passim, where the author traces what he views as the negative influence of al-Shāfiᶜī on Muslim traditions.
Attempts at Compromise 201 writing and resulted in the creation of harmonizing accounts and a series of syntheses that adjusted earlier accounts. This is the focus of the following section.
Post-Miḥna Conversion Themes The four conversion topoi (and their subsequent themes) which I describe in previous chapters continue to appear in post-miḥna historical accounts. While the period under study covers only some eighty years (218/833–299/ 911), the number of extant historical sources from this period exceeds all previous periods. This is due to what Chase Robinson calls the “gobbling up” phenomenon, which he defines as “the integration of monographic works into composite and often very large compilations.”173 This, in turn, means there will be more literary incidents, which form conversion themes. In this section, I aim to test the veracity of the existence of the various conversion topoi in post-miḥna historiographical accounts. My goal is to demonstrate the existence of conversion topoi rather than to describe each incident found in the sources. I argue that Muslim historians of this period continued to depict conversion by using literary themes of earlier generations, yet still reflecting their religious and political worldviews. In a later section, I will scrutinize the post-miḥna conversion narratives of three key religio-political Muslim figures—al-ᶜAbbās, Muᶜāwiya, and ᶜAlī—because of their significance to the ᶜAbbāsid, Umayyad, and ᶜAlid claims of legitimacy, respectively.
Topoi of Significance Conversion topoi of significance appear in various themes. The awā’il (firsts) theme continues not only to occur in historical accounts but also to indicate a dispute among Muslims regarding the earliest man to convert. Ibn Saᶜd reports that ᶜAlī was the first to accept Islam after Khadīja.174 He also reveals 173 Robinson, Historiography, 34. Robinson states that this phenomenon “is a crucial feature of ninth-and tenth-century tradition, and goes some way towards explaining why so much of tradition’s earlier layers have fallen away” (34–35). Robinson believes this phenomenon explains “why we are left with what al-Balādhurī and al-Ṭabarī preserved of al-Madā’inī’s work, rather than al-Madā’inī’s work itself, and with what Ibn Isḥāq-Ibn Hishām preserved of al-Zuhrī’s work, rather than al-Zuhrī’s work itself ” (35). 174 Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 3:15.
202 Conversion to Islam the dispute regarding the first male to convert, and states that three names are offered: Abū Bakr, ᶜAlī, and Zayd.175 Ibn Saᶜd does not resolve the dispute; he complicates it further. In a different report, he writes that Abū Bakr was the first to convert; in another, he states it was Zayd, and, in a third, it was Saᶜd ibn Abī Waqqāṣ who converted on the same day as ᶜAlī.176 The narrators of these accounts—as Ibn Saᶜd claims—are worth noting. Ibn Saᶜd builds the case for ᶜAlī on accounts allegedly reported by several Muslim authorities, including Ibn ᶜAbbās, who served as ᶜAlī’s mentor in ᶜAbbāsid traditions.177 Abū Bakr’s case is made by a narration given by his daughter, Asmā’ bint Abū Bakr. The case for Zayd is the weakest in Ibn Saᶜd’s accounts (anti-Umayyad), as he attributes it to al-Zuhrī (pro-Umayyad) and seems to dispute the account.178 While Ibn Saᶜd provides these conflicting accounts, his pro-ᶜAlid inclination may be reflected by his more substantial argument for ᶜAlī when compared to the others. Ibn Saᶜd, thus, provides contradicting reports, elevates ᶜAlī’s image, and disputes pro-Umayyad accounts. He does not solve the dispute, nor does he harmonize the accounts. Later historians are more capable of harmonizing competing accounts by conflating discrepancies, as will be seen, for instance, in the case of Ibn Abī Khaythama.179 Unlike Ibn Saᶜd, the Sunnī jurist Yaḥyā ibn Maᶜīn, a friend of Ibn Ḥanbal, insists that Abū Bakr was the first to convert.180 Shiite historian al-Yaᶜqūbī disagrees and states that the first was ᶜAlī, who was followed by Abū Dharr or Abū Bakr.181 The identification of the first to convert is driven by each historian’s religious and political positions.
175 Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 3:15. 176 Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 3:128 (Abū Bakr, based on a narration attributed to his daughter Asmā’ bint Abū Bakr), and 3:103 (Saᶜd ibn Abī Waqqāṣ, based on Muḥammad ibn ᶜUmar). While Ibn Saᶜd does not solve the dispute, Ibn Abī Khaythama does, as I will mention shortly. 177 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 88, 119, where he explains that Shiite historians reacted to accusations by pro- ᶜAbbāsids, who attempted “to depict ᶜAlī as b. ᶜAbbās’s protégé or reduce him to a state of pupilage before his own adherents” (119). 178 Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 3:24, 32. 179 See Ibn Abī Khaythama, al-Ta’rīkh al-kabīr, Akhbār al-makkiyyīn, 1:180 (Abū Bakr), 1:184 (Zayd); see also Ibn Abī Khaythama, Ta’rīkh (Part 3), 1:165; the sequence was ᶜAlī, Zayd, then Abū Bakr (1:184–185); for a list of early converts, 1:186. See the views of al-ᶜAqqād, ᶜAbqariyyat al- ṣiddīq, 73, as he compares Abū Bakr, ᶜAlī, and Zayd. See also al-ᶜUmarī, al-Sīra al-nabawiyya al- ṣaḥīḥa, 133–134. 180 Yaḥyā ibn Maᶜīn, Maᶜrifat, 1:151. On Abū Bakr’s early conversion, see the discussion of Ṭāhā Ḥusayn, al-Shaykhān, 22ff. On Abū Bakr’s changing image in Muslim tradition, see Akpinar, “Narrative,” 93ff., where the author studies the emergence of Abū Bakr’s image as the best Muslim after Muhammad, and the way this image developed over time. 181 Al-Yaᶜqūbī, Ta’rīkh, 2:22, where he states that the first to convert was “Khadīja from among women and ᶜAlī from men.”
Attempts at Compromise 203 Nevertheless, later in the post-miḥna period, we trace attempts at compromise by the harmonization of accounts, particularly among some Sunnī scholars. The Ḥanbalī Ibn Qutayba states that ᶜAlī was indeed first to convert, followed by Zayd, then Abū Bakr.182 Though Sunnī in his inclinations, Ibn Qutayba does not hesitate to grant ᶜAlī the honor of being the first convert. Ibn Abī Khaythama, another Sunnī scholar, agrees and states that ᶜAlī was the earliest to convert, although some say it was Abū Bakr.183 Ibn Abī Khaythama does not seek to elevate either ᶜAlī or Abū Bakr and attempts to end the dispute by claiming that the Prophet settled it: ᶜAlī was first, but he did not openly declare his conversion; Abū Bakr was second, publicly announced his conversion, and was followed by Zayd ibn Ḥāritha.184 Ibn Abī Khaythama provides an example of serious attempts at harmonizing earlier reports. Similarly, al-Balādhurī admits that, while all have agreed that Khadīja was the first to accept Islam, there is disagreement regarding who converted next: ᶜAlī, Abū Bakr, or Zayd. Al-Balādhurī claims it was Zayd.185 One reason for al-Balādhurī’s designation of Zayd as the first convert may be his reliance on the pro-Umayyad tradition given by al-Zuhrī.186 Al-Balādhurī displays serious attempts at harmonizing earlier reports. While he is known as anti-Shiite and pro-Umayyad, he is willing to depict ᶜAlī favorably. He provides an account attributed to Muhammad which states that the Prophet forced ᶜAlī to keep his conversion secret, implying that ᶜAlī was not a coward hiding his faith but rather an obedient believer.187 Here, al-Balādhurī’s accounts reflect attempts at reconciliation and compromise.188 Despite his disfavor of Shīᶜism, he justifies ᶜAlī’s secret conversion—which 182 Ibn Qutayba, Maᶜārif, 1:168–169, where the editor claims it was Abū Bakr. Ibn Qutayba mentions that Khālid ibn Saᶜīd ibn al-ᶜĀṣ ibn Umayya converted even before Abū Bakr, after seeing a vision (1:296). For the prestigious status of the earliest to convert, see Ibn Qutayba, ᶜUyūn al-akhbār, 2:254. 183 Ibn Abī Khaythama, al-Ta’rīkh al-kabīr, Akhbār al-makkiyyīn, 1:161–162; 1:164–165; 1:170; 1:177–178. He also provides details on the confusion regarding the first to convert in Ibn Abī Khaythama, Ta’rīkh (Part 3), 1:158, 1:162, and 1:167; for reports claiming ᶜAlī was first to convert, at the age of eight, see 1:163–164; for reports stating Abū Bakr was first, 1:159. 184 Ibn Abī Khaythama, al-Ta’rīkh al-kabīr, Akhbār al-makkiyyīn, 1:180 (Abū Bakr), 1:184 (Zayd); see also Ibn Abī Khaythama, Ta’rīkh (Part 3), 1:165; the sequence was ᶜAlī, Zayd, then Abū Bakr (1:184–185); for a list of early converts, 1:186. See the views of al-ᶜAqqād, ᶜAbqariyyat al-ṣiddīq, 73; also al-ᶜUmarī, al-Sīra, 133–134. 185 Al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 1:112. 186 See Petersen, ᶜAlī, 109. Petersen also argues that al- Balādhurī is a recognized Sunnī authority (136). 187 Al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 1:113. He states that the first to declare (aẓhar) his conversion was Abū Bakr, followed by Bilāl, 1:158. For al-Balādhurī’s pro-Umayyad and anti-Shiite tendencies, see Petersen, ᶜAlī, 14, 35, 124, 140. 188 See Petersen, ᶜAlī, 173, where he writes on reconciling trends between writers and rulers “to try to find a compromise between the conflicting views or reconciliatory trends” (173).
204 Conversion to Islam is usually used by the anti-ᶜAlids to insult ᶜAlī—and describes it instead as an act of devotion to Muhammad.189 At the same time, al-Balādhurī does not deny his pro-Umayyad inclinations, as he does not tout ᶜAlī as the first convert, but instead provides various options and chooses the pro-Umayyad option offered by his major informant, al-Zuhrī.190 The awā’il theme is concerned not only with the first man to convert; it also refers to other firsts, including the first Medinan men to convert, even before the hijra.191 It also mentions the first to convert from the anṣār.192 Furthermore, Ibn Saᶜd introduces an infrequent theme related to early conversions: accepting Islam “before the Prophet entered the house of Ibn al-Arqam to preach from there.”193 The theme relies on the reported early conversion of a man named Ibn al-Arqam, whose house in Mecca became the gathering place for early converts because Muhammad used it as a preaching center. This theme describes positively some of the awā’il in conversion, commending their devotion in embracing Islam when Muhammad was powerless. The theme highlights significant early converts who embraced Islam qabl dukhūl rasūl Allāh dār ibn al- Arqam (before the Prophet entered Ibn al-Arqam’s house).194 Thus, the various themes describing the awā’il highlight many distinct areas of uniqueness in conversion and fit into topoi of significance. Topoi of significance also include the theme of praiseworthy (ḥasun) conversion,195 as well as the theme of changing a person’s name after
189 I view al-Balādhurī as not only anti-Shiite and pro-Umayyad but also pro-Bakrī and pro- ᶜUthmānī. See al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 1:261, where he praises Abū Bakr and ᶜUthmān, highlighting how they gave away money after their conversions. 190 On al-Zuhrī as the major authoritative informant of al-Balādhurī, see Petersen, ᶜAlī, 109, 136ff. In his Ansāb, al-Balādhurī relies on al-Zuhrī over two hundred times, while in the Futūḥ al-buldān, al-Zuhrī is the authority in about thirty accounts. 191 Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 1:169, 3:341, 3:341, 3:374, 428, 3:411, 3:428, 3:431, 3:434, 3:445, 3:457, 3:467, 4:102; al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 1:424, 1:239; Ibn Abī Khaythama, Ta’rīkh (Part 3), 1:168. 192 Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 3:321; for a list of early converts, see 4:88– 89, 4:200– 202; also al- Balādhurī, Ansāb, 1:424, 1:245. We also trace the first to convert in a specific tribe; see Ibn Qutayba, Maᶜārif, 1:338. 193 For the theme, see Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 3:140, 3:151, 3:154, 3:211, 3:220, 3:223–224, 3:248–249, 3:355, 3:359–362, 3:364, 3:365–379, 4:31, 4:96, 4:120–121. On al-Arqam ibn Abī al-Arqam, see Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 3:183ff. (seventh to convert); Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ṭabaqāt, 1:54 (witnessed Badr, and was an early convert); Ibn Ḥanbal, Musnad, 24:182–183, 39:434–436; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 2:479ff.; Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 1:187; Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī, Iṣāba, 1:196–198; Ibn al-ᶜImād, Shadharāt al-dhahab fī akhbār man dhahab, 1:256. 194 We should also note that some converts are described less positively because they embraced Islam after Muhammad entered the house of Ibn al-Arqam. See Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 3:6. For a brief treatment of conversion in relation to Ibn al-Arqam’s house in Ibn Saᶜd’s Ṭabaqāt, see Lucas, Constructive, 269. 195 Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 1:234, 2:53, 3:364, 3:409, 4:151; Ibn Qutayba, Maᶜārif, 1:61, 1:142, 1:174– 176, 1:204, 1:398, 1:424, 1:484; al-Balādhurī, Futūḥ al-buldān, 100 (Sajāḥ, the false prophetess);
Attempts at Compromise 205 conversion.196 They also include conversion of women, slaves, and notables.197 Further, they appear in themes of performing good deeds— including building mosques and enduring persecution—following conversion.198 The theme of refusing conversion—thus rejecting Islam, especially by ahl al-kitāb (Jews and Christians)—provides evidence of Islam’s distinctiveness, as people were free to accept or reject it. This theme repeatedly highlights Islam’s worth and importance.199 al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 1:221, 1:303; Ibn Abī Khaythama, Ta’rīkh (Part 2), 1:428–429, 1:165; Ibn Shabba, Ta’rīkh al-Madīna, 472. According to Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 1:250, a jinn converted to Islam. 196 For changing a person’s name after conversion, see Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam, Futūḥ, 1:118; Abū Zurᶜa al-Dimashqī, Ta’rīkh, 1:247, 1:386; al- Balādhurī, Futūḥ al-buldān, 441–442; al-Yaᶜqūbī, Ta’rīkh, 2:342–343; Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 1:234, 1:258, 3:92, 3:297, 4:93, 4:103, 4:185, 7:260; Ibn Abī Khaythama, Ta’rīkh (Part 3), 1:376; Zubayrī, Nasab, 1:247. 197 For women, see Ibn Ḥabīb, Muḥabbar, 1:10, 1:82, 1:408; Ibn Qutayba, ᶜUyūn, 4:69; al- Balādhurī, Futūḥ al-buldān, 100, 267–268; al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 1:98, 1:360, 1:195–196, 1:224; Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 3:321; al-Jumaḥī, Ṭabaqāt, 1:230–231; Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ṭabaqāt, 1:331; Ibn Abī Khaythama, Ta’rīkh (Part 2), 1:261, 2:847; Ibn Abī Khaythama, Ta’rīkh (Part 3), 1:165; Zubayrī, Nasab, 1:40; Ibn Shabba, Ta’rīkh al-Madīna, 171; al-Yaᶜqūbī, Ta’rīkh, 2:94; al-Yaᶜqūbī, Kitāb al-buldān, 1:81 (ᶜUthmān). For slaves, al-Fasawī, Maᶜrifa, 3:254; Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 1:179; Ibn Abī Khaythama, Ta’rīkh (Part 3), 2:377; al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 1:195–196. For notables, see Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ta’rīkh, 1:92 (ᶜIkrima), 1:199 (ᶜAlī at the age of fifteen); Ibn Ḥabīb, Muḥabbar, 1:161–162 (Abū Sufyān and al-ᶜAbbās, referring to them as min kibār al-muslimīn); Ibn Qutayba, Maᶜārif, 1:156 (al-ᶜAbbās), 1:168–169 (Abū Bakr and ᶜAlī), 1:349 (Muᶜāwiya); al-Fasawī, Maᶜrifa, 1:511 (al-ᶜAbbās), 3:254; al- Balādhurī, Futūḥ al-buldān, 37 (Abū Sufyān), 313–314 (notables of Aṣbahān); al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 1:197, 1:361 (Abū Sufyān); Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 3:6 (Ḥamza), 3:15 (ᶜAlī), 3:40 (ᶜUthmān), 3:128 (Abū Bakr), 3:184 (ᶜUmar), 4:22ff. (al-ᶜAbbās), 4:25 (Jaᶜfar ibn Abī Ṭālib); Ibn Abī Khaythama, Ta’rīkh (Part 2), 1:77, 1:544, 1:166 (al-ᶜAbbās), 2:629 (Muᶜāwiya); Ibn Abī Khaythama, Ta’rīkh (Part 3), 1:167 (Zubayr), 2:26 (ᶜIkrima); Zubayrī, Nasab, 1:231 (Ḥakīm, the notable of the Quraysh); Yaᶜqubī, Ta’rīkh, 2:46 (al-ᶜAbbās), 2:59–61 (Abū Sufyān). 198 Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 1:40 (Abraham’s deeds as a Muslim), 2:53 (Nuᶜaym ibn Masᶜūd), 2:122 (building mosques); al-Fasawī, Maᶜrifa, 2:488–489 (praising the good deeds of ᶜUthmān after his conversion), 3:254 (Abū Bakr’s honorable deeds after conversion), 3:367 (al-Aḥnaf ’s conversion); al- Balādhurī, Futūḥ al-buldān, 98; al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 1:53 (al-ᶜAbbās), 1:299 (Najāshī converted and gave money), 1:261 (Abū Bakr), 1:345 (Nuᶜaym ibn Masᶜūd), 1:360 (Hind), 1:372 (Ibn Kaysān); Abū Zurᶜa al-Dimashqī, Ta’rīkh, 645. Muṣᶜab, Nasab, 1:122 (Abū Sufyān). For destroying idols after conversion, see Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 1:360, 3:114, 3:343, 3:370, 3:419, 3:448, 3:457, 3:461, 3:451, 3:540, 3:461, 7:273. For persecution after conversion, see al-Yaᶜqūbī, Ta’rīkh, 2:27; Ibn Ḥabīb, Muḥabbar, 1:388 (seventy Jewish magicians converted and were persecuted); Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 3:40 (ᶜUthmān persecuted), 3:175 (Bilāl), 4:92 (ᶜĀmir ibn Abī Waqqāṣ), 4:97 (al-Walīd ibn al-Walīd), 4:98 (Yāsir ibn ᶜĀmir); Ibn Abī Khaythama, Ta’rīkh (Part 3), 1:167 (Zubayr); Muṣᶜab al-Zubayrī, Nasab, 1:416–417; al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 1:176–179 (Khabbāb), 1:184–190 (Bilāl), 1:194 (ᶜĀmir ibn Fuhayra), 1:195– 197, 1:219–220; Ibn Shabba, Ta’rīkh, 470. For a study on conversion reports involving idols, see Lecker, “Was Arabian,” 3ff. 199 For refusing conversion, see Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 1:130 (Islam refused by Christians), 1:199 (by Kisrā), 1:230 (by Abū Ḥarb ibn Khuwaylid), 1:236 (by ᶜĀmir ibn al-Ṭufayl), 1:255 (by some of Wafd al-Azd), 1:268 (by some Christians of Najrān), 1:270–271 (by a Jew), 2:37 (by Jews after Uḥud), 2:68 (by Christians), 3:70 (by Ghassānī Christians), 3:96 (by Christians of Dūmat al-Jandal); Ibn Ḥabīb, Muḥabbar, 1:171 (Waraqa rejected Islam); al-Jumaḥī, Ṭabaqāt, 1:227; Ibn Qutayba, Maᶜārif, 1:339– 340, 1:511 (examples of Christians who refused Islam); al-Balādhurī, Futūḥ al-buldān, 64 (two Christian monks rejected Islam), 75, 80 (Islam refused by Magis), 136 (by a Christian in front of Caliph ᶜUmar), 144–145 (by Christians during al-Yarmūk); al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 1:155 (by Rukāna), 1:285 (by Rizām), 1:308 (by Banū Qurayẓa); al-Yaᶜqūbī, Ta’rīkh, 2:88–89, 2:94 (Rayḥāna’s initial
206 Conversion to Islam As I mentioned in this chapter’s introduction, conversion references increased significantly during this period.200 This is evident in the ample references provided in the notes. Since my stated goal here is to demonstrate the existence of conversion topoi rather than to describe each incident found in the sources, this plethora of references demonstrates how Muslim historians of this period continued to depict conversion by using the same literary themes as earlier historians. Some themes are clearer than others in demonstrating the historians’ religious and political worldviews, as evidenced by the awā’il theme. It is my contention that these topoi address the Muslim community and exhort its members to embrace unique aspects of conversion. Similarly, while the topoi of compromise primarily address the Muslims, they appear as discouraging examples against insincere conversion.
Topoi of Compromise Conversion topoi of compromise are present in themes of accepting Islam for questionable reasons, instead of genuine and sincere faith-based conviction. They include the theme of conversion on (or after) the day of the conquest of Mecca, especially by the so-called al-ṭulaqā’ (set-free persons).201 rejection of Islam); Ibn Abī Khaythama, Ta’rīkh (Part 2), 1:261 (Islam rejected by a woman), 1:381 (by a tribe), 1:402 (by ᶜAmr ibn Mālik), 1:425–426 (by some people of Najd), 1:569, 2:628 (by Heraclius); Ibn Abī Khaythama, Ta’rīkh (Part 3), 3:91; Muṣᶜab, Nasab, 1:274 (Islam rejected by a relative of al-Zuhrī). 200 Robinson, Historiography, 34–35. 201 For the term al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum, see Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 2:116, 4:151, 186, 205, 6:155. See al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 5:427 (Ḥakīm), 7:186 (sahm al-mu’allafa, i.e., the incentive portion of the mu’allafa), 9:351 (some mu’allafa converted on the day of the Battle of Ḥunayn, such as Ḥakīm ibn Ṭalīq), 12:59, 13:171 (mu’allafa reverted from Islam after Muhammad’s death). For the conversion of the mu’allafa, see Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ta’rīkh, 1:92 (ᶜIkrima); Ibn Qutayba, Maᶜārif, 1:303, 1:349; Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 4:151 (Ṣafwān), 4:186–187; al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 1:362 (Ṣafwān); Ibn Abī Khaythama, Ta’rīkh (Part 3), 1:188 (Abū Sufyān and Ḥakīm), 2:52; Zubayrī, Nasab, 1:122–124 (a rare report of Muᶜāwiya’s early conversion, disputing he was from the mu’allafa). Concerning al- ṭulaqā’, see Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 2:103 (Abū Sufyān’s people on the day of conquest), 5:35, 5:81, 8:121 (Umm Hāni’, a woman from the ṭulaqā’), 8:312; al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 2:74, 5:319, 5:543 (the sons of al-ṭulaqā’), 10:434–435 (ᶜUmar states ṭulaqā’ are unsuitable for the consultation committee). For conversion on the day of the conquest of Mecca, see Ibn Ḥabīb, Munammaq, 1:295; Ibn Qutayba, Maᶜārif, 1:283–284, 1:311, 1:319, 1:320, 1:349 (Muᶜāwiya), 1:353; Ibn Qutayba, ᶜUyūn, 1:262; Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 2:103–104 (Abū Sufyān, and conversion of many voluntarily and involuntarily after Muhammad conquered Mecca by assault); Ibn Abī Khaythama, al-Ta’rīkh al-kabīr, Akhbār al- makkiyyīn, 1:227, 1:230, 1:236; Ibn Abī Khaythama, Ta’rīkh (Part 2), 1:172, 1:360 (Abū Bakr’s father), 2:640, 2:774; Ibn Abī Khaythama, Ta’rīkh (Part 3), 1:182–185; Zubayrī, Nasab, 1:231, 1:301–302, 1:344, 1:415; al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 1:98, 1:128, 1:288 (converted to join the raid to gain spoils), also 1:219–221, 1:303, 1:362–364; al-Yaᶜqūbī, Kitāb al-buldān, 101.
Attempts at Compromise 207 As I explained in Chapter 2, the term ṭulaqā’ is not only negative but also most likely anti- Umayyad.202 In depicting Umayyad figures negatively, the anti-Umayyad Ibn Saᶜd places Abū Sufyān and his relatives among the ṭulaqā’, who accepted Islam on the day of the conquest of Mecca.203 In contrast, the pro-Umayyad Khalīfa—a contemporary of Ibn Saᶜd—avoids mentioning the conversion of Abū Sufyān or Muᶜāwiya and does not use the term ṭulaqā’.204 Thus, we notice how political preferences drive literary choices. Al-Balādhurī, like Khalīfa, is known for his pro-Umayyad sympathies. However, unlike Khalīfa, al-Balādhurī refers to al-ṭulaqā’ and their sons, although he never links the term to Umayyad figures.205 Once more, we notice how Muslim historians utilize literary themes selectively to support their ideologies. The theme of al-ṭulaqā’ is linked to another repeated theme, which utilizes the term fatḥ Makka (the conquest of Mecca), referring to those who accepted Islam after the victory of Muhammad over the Meccans. Since the theme serves as a negative indicator of late conversion, historians’ ideologies dictate whether they will document an individual as converting on the day of the conquest. Ibn Saᶜd writes of many of Banū Umayya converting to Islam “voluntarily and involuntarily after Muhammad conquered Mecca by assault.”206 Unlike ibn Saᶜd, the pro-Umayyad Ibn Abī Khaythama does not include Banū Umayya when he refers to individuals converting on the day of the conquest.207 While there are many references to conversion on the day of the conquest in the works under study,208 we should note that some references 202 Bosworth explains that the term ṭulaqā’ “was subsequently used opprobriously by opponents of the Meccan late converts, such as enemies of the Umayyads, the clan of Abū Sufyān who had previously led the Meccan opposition to Muhammad.” Bosworth, “Ṭulakā’,” EI2, 10:603. Urban, “The Identity Crisis of Abū Bakra,” in Lineaments, ed. Cobb, 125–126. 203 On Ibn Saᶜd’s anti-Umayyad tendencies, see Petersen, ᶜAlī, 92. For Ibn Saᶜd on Abū Sufyān and his relatives as ṭulaqā’ converting on the day of conquest, see Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 2:103, 5:35, 5:81. 204 Ibn Saᶜd was contemporary with Khalīfa and quoted Khalīfa’s Ṭabaqāt, which suggests that Khalīfa was a reliable authority for Ibn Saᶜd. See Muṣṭafā, Ta’rīkh, 1:236; see also Zakkār, “Ibn Khayyāṭ,” EI2, 3:838–839, and his introduction to Khalīfa’s Ṭabaqāt. See also Ibn Ḥibbān, Thiqāt, 8:233; al-Dhahabī, Mīzān, 1:665. While Khalīfa does not mention ṭulaqā’, he refers to al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum; see his Ta’rīkh, 89–90. 205 Al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 2:74, 5:319, 5:543 (the sons of al-ṭulaqā’), 10:434–435 (ᶜUmar states ṭulaqā’ are unsuitable for the consultation committee, particularly referring to ᶜAmr ibn al-ᶜĀṣ). 206 Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 2:103–104. 207 Ibn Abī Khaythama, al-Ta’rīkh al-kabīr, Akhbār al-makkiyyīn, 1:227, 1:230, 1:236; Ibn Abī Khaythama, Ta’rīkh (Part 2), 1:172, 1:360 (Abu Bakr’s father), 2:640, 2:774; Ibn Abī Khaythama, Ta’rīkh (Part 3), 1:182–185; Zubayrī, Nasab, 1:231, 1:301–302, 1:344, 1:415; al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 1:98, 1:128, 1:288 (converted to join the raid to gain spoils), also 1:219–221, 1:303, 1:362–364; al-Yaᶜqūbī, Kitāb al-buldān, 101. 208 See Ibn Ḥabīb, Munammaq, 1:295; Ibn Qutayba, Maᶜārif, 1:283–284, 1:311, 1:319, 1:320, 1:349 (Muᶜāwiya), 1:353; Ibn Qutayba, ᶜUyūn, 1:262; Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 2:103–104; Ibn Abī Khaythama,
208 Conversion to Islam better represent how historians’ ideologies drive their depictions. Other historians merely refer to conversion on fatḥ Makka. The theme itself negatively refers to individuals who delayed their conversion until they were forced to submit to the victorious leader, which reflects political surrender rather than religious devotion. Both themes—al-ṭulaqā’ and fatḥ Makka—are linked with a third theme, al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum (those whose hearts were reconciled). As we noted earlier, al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum is a group from among the ṭulaqā’. The ṭulaqā’ are Meccans who embraced Islam to save their lives on the day of the conquest. Among these were a group called al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum, which received gifts and incentives from Muhammad in exchange for accepting Islam. If the ṭulaqā’ is a negative epithet, so is the al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum.209 Both refer to questionable conversions. There are ample references to al- mu’allafa qulūbuhum and their conversion in the period under study.210 These references indicate the centrality of the theme among Muslims and
al-Ta’rīkh al-kabīr, Akhbār, 1:227, 1:230, 1:236; Ibn Abī Khaythama, Ta’rīkh (Part 2), 1:172, 1:360 (Abu Bakr’s father), 2:640, 2:774; Ibn Abī Khaythama, Ta’rīkh (Part 3), 1:182–185; Zubayrī, Nasab, 1:231, 1:301–302, 1:344, 1:415; al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 1:98, 1:128, 1:288 (converted to join the raid to gain spoils), also 1:219–221, 1:303, 1:362–364; al-Yaᶜqūbī, Kitāb al-buldān, 101. 209 For studies on al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum, see Ed., “al-Mu’allafa Ḳulūbuhum,” EI2, 7:254; Crone, Meccan, 214. This term could be rendered “those whose hearts have not been reconciled” or “those whose hearts were to be reconciled.” See Ed., “al-Mu’allafa Ḳulūbuhum,” EI2, 7:254. See Watt, Muhammad, 73–75, 348–353, where he writes, “The suggestion is that it was only this substantial gift that made these men accept Islam” (348). Rosenthal calls al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum the sympathizers of Muhammad. Rosenthal, Man versus Society, 404–405. See also Bearman et al., Islamic, 128–129; Riḍā, Tafsīr al-manār, 10:14, 10:229 (Muhammad gave the mu’allafa great incentives, and they were from among the ṭulaqā), 10:372, 10:408 (the mu’allafa were weak in their faith), 10:426 (there were two kinds of mu’allafa: kuffār wa muslimūn, i.e., unbelievers and believers); al-Thaᶜlabī, Kashf, 5:58– 59 (Arabs who received money to believe, but when they disliked the gifts, they mocked Muhammad and left him); al-Qurṭubī, Jāmiᶜ, 8:180–181 (the term mu’allafa qulūbuhum is negative, and Abū Sufyān and Muᶜāwiya are reportedly among the mu’allafa); Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī, Fatḥ, 6:252 (they converted with weak conscience, or merely to lead their peers to Islam, presumably to strengthen the Muslims); 8:48 (al-mu’allafa were people of the Quraysh converted on the day of conquest and kān islāmuhum ḍaᶜīfan, i.e., weak Islam). Abū Sufyān and his sons, Muᶜāwiya and Yazīd, are of the mu’allafa qulūbuhum. See also Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 5:201. The list of the mu’allafa qulūbuhum is provided by ᶜAbbāsid writers, which means it should be viewed as less favorable of the Umayyad figures. See Ibn Hishām and Ibn Isḥāq, Life, 594–295; al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 3:939. See al-Kalāᶜī, Iktifā’, 1:538, where a list of al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum is found. For a list of names, see Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī, Fatḥ, 8:48. 210 For the conversion of the mu’allafa, see Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ta’rīkh, 1:92 (ᶜIkrima); Ibn Qutayba, Maᶜārif, 1:303, 1:349; Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 4:151 (Ṣafwān), 4:186–187; al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 1:362 (Ṣafwān); Ibn Abī Khaythama, Ta’rīkh (Part 3), 1:188 (Abū Sufyān and Ḥakīm), 2:52. For the term al-mu’allafa itself, see Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 2:116, 4:151, 186, 205, and 6:155. See also al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 5:427 (Ḥakīm), 7:186 (sahm al-mu’allafa, i.e., the incentive portion of the mu’allafa), 9:351 (some mu’allafa converted on the day of the Battle of Ḥunayn, such as Ḥakīm ibn Ṭalīq), 12:59, 13:171 (mu’allafa reverted from Islam after Muhammad’s death).
Attempts at Compromise 209 how it is often used by historians to reflect political views, particularly regarding the Umayyads. Ibn Saᶜd continues his anti-Umayyad literary descriptions, as he states that Muhammad gave incentives to the mu’allafa, precisely awwal al-nās (before any other people), among whom were Abū Sufyān and his two sons, Yazīd and Muᶜāwiya.211 This report identifies three major Umayyad figures—the first two Umayyad caliphs and their father—as late converts who sought only power and material gain. Ibn Saᶜd’s strong anti-Umayyad inclination drives his portrayals. His claims, however, are disputed by his contemporary, Muṣᶜab al-Zubayrī, who is anti-Muᶜtazilite (unlike Ibn Saᶜd) and pro-Umayyad. Muṣᶜab provides a rare report of Muᶜāwiya’s conversion two years before the conquest of Mecca, disputing the belief that he was from the mu’allafa.212 Muṣᶜab’s claim is a notable ideological assertion. Despite the ample reports which place Muᶜāwiya’s conversion on the day of the conquest of Mecca, Muṣᶜab strongly disagrees. By insisting that Muᶜāwiya’s conversion occurred two years earlier, Muṣᶜab depicts the first Umayyad caliph favorably and establishes a competing portrayal, which aims to oppose the anti-Umayyad accounts which identify Muᶜāwiya as one of the ṭulaqā’ and mu’allafa. Conversion topoi of compromise also appear in the theme of collective conversions, such as the various wufūd (delegations) accepting Islam together, as well as in the theme of conversion as merely a sign of political compliance or surrender. The references are numerous: While Khalīfa writes of several delegations coming to surrender to Muhammad and accept Islam, Ibn Saᶜd and al-Balādhurī list a plethora of people, tribes, and delegations traveling to meet Muhammad, offering their loyalty, and converting to Islam.213 Ibn Ḥabīb writes of the Bahrain people converting and sending the kharāj taxes, while Ibn Qutayba mentions the delegation of Banū Kilāb reaching Muhammad to convert and declare allegiance.214 Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam writes 211 Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 2:116. Ibn Saᶜd also refers to the mu’allafa (4:151, 186, 205, 6:155). For a secondary study, see ᶜAbd al-Karīm, Shadwu al-rabāba, 1:92ff. 212 Zubayrī, Nasab, 1:122–124. I will discuss Muᶜāwiya’s depictions more in the following section. 213 Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ta’rīkh, 1:94–97 (Najrān and Yamāma), 1:323 (Berbers convert collectively); Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 1:170 (ten of the Khazraj), 1:225ff. (many delegations, et passim), 1:230ff. (ᶜAqīl delegation and others), 1:249–250, 1:262ff. (many delegations); al-Balādhurī, Kitāb futūḥ al-buldān, 56, 59, 61, 68, 78 (groups from Mecca, Tabāla, Jurash, Dūma, Yemen, and Bahrain, respectively); al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 1:55, 1:198 (a group of Ethiopians), 1:378, 1:384, 1:366. On the delegations, see al-ᶜUmarī, al-Sīra al-nabawiyya, 541–546. 214 Ibn Ḥabīb, Muḥabbar, 1:77 (the Bahrain people converted and sent the kharāj taxes), 1:87 (people converted willingly [aslamū ṭā’iᶜīn] before Muhammad’s warriors could fight them), 1:291; Ibn Ḥabīb, Munammaq, 1:203 (Ṭā’if), 1:250 (conversion to avoid murder); Ibn Qutayba, Maᶜārif, 1:70, 1:332 (delegation of Banū Kilāb), 1:608.
210 Conversion to Islam that the largest people group to convert simultaneously was the Copts.215 While there are ample reports of groups and delegations accepting Islam, they are significant in one particular aspect: They describe how conversion— at least in one of its meanings—meant political surrender and tribal allegiance rather than deep devotion and religious conviction. This theme is echoed in a similar theme: conversion as a precise declaration of political submission. We encounter this theme in many references: Khalīfa reports of Abū Bakr sending Khālid to raid Banū Salīm, Banū Asad, and Ghaṭfān. When these tribes were defeated “by Allah,” “they came with their flags and converted.”216 In this account, their political defeat yielded conversion to Islam. Ibn Ḥabīb states that the people of Bahrain aslamū ṭā’iᶜūn (converted willingly), before Muhammad’s warriors could fight them.217 In the same vein, Ibn Saᶜd reports that some people converted kārihūn (involuntarily), and others merely sought to join the victorious camp, while al-Balādhurī provides various examples, including the people of Qazwīn who avoided war and declared conversion as a sign of allegiance and submission.218 Thus, in the sources under study, there is a plethora of references to conversion as political surrender.219 The theme of conversion as tribal surrender coincides often with another theme: conversion to save one’s children, wife, and possessions or after defeat in battle. Ibn Saᶜd refers to various conversions: a man accepted Islam after he was instructed in tuslim tutrak (if you convert you would be spared); another saved himself by accepting Islam; and a third converted to save his son from death.220 Ibn Abī Khaythama highlights examples of individuals who converted in order to spare their belongings and lives, and indicates that some people declared insincere conversion as mā aslamū bal istaslamū (they did not convert but surrendered); others decided to embrace Islam only to save 215 Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam, Futūḥ, 1:24. 216 Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ta’rīkh, 1:104. 217 Ibn Ḥabīb, Muḥabbar, 1:87. 218 Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 2:103–104; al-Balādhurī, Futūḥ al-buldān, 280, 298 (the people of Ḥīra surrendered and converted), 321, 375 (conversion to join the victorious camp), also several examples on 380–382. 219 To demonstrate the plethora of references on collective conversions and accepting Islam as an act of political submission, see, in addition to previous accounts, Ibn Ḥabīb, Munammaq, 1:203 (Ṭā’if), 1:250; Ibn Qutayba, Maᶜārif, 1:70, 1:332, 1:608; al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 1:55, 1:198 (a group of Ethiopians), 1:378, 1:384, 1:366; Abū Zurᶜa al-Dimashqī, Ta’rīkh, 1:169; al-Yaᶜqūbī, Ta’rīkh, 2:27–31, 2:38, 2:54, 2:59–61, 2:65, 2:85–86 (many delegations); Ibn Abī Khaythama, Ta’rīkh (Part 2), 1:156 (Thaqīf), 1:198 (conversion in order to raid); Ibn Abī Khaythama, Ta’rīkh (Part 3), 2:371 (a group of Khashayn); Zubayrī, Nasab, 1:254; Ibn Shabba, Ta’rīkh, 48, 365, 499. 220 Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 2:28 (in tuslim tutrak), 2:66 (conversion in order to be spared), 2:92 (saving oneself by conversion), 2:103, 4:151 (a man converted to save his son).
Attempts at Compromise 211 their relatives and possessions.221 Here we encounter, once more, another meaning of conversion—a vulnerable decision to save one’s life, relatives, or possessions. This is echoed in accounts by al-Balādhurī, who reports the conversion of a man to save his life after defeat in battle, and another to restore his possessions and avoid murder.222 Like al-Balādhurī, al-Yaᶜqūbī writes of conversion to restore one’s wife or to keep one’s possessions, as well as conversion in order to save one’s life after the instruction aslim taslam (accept Islam and you will be spared).223 Similarly, ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam and al-Jumaḥī refer to Jews converting after their land was invaded, while al-Fasawī and Ibn Shabba report conversion in order to save one’s life.224 Finally, topoi of compromise are reflected in themes of reversion from Islam.225 Ibn Saᶜd writes of many who abandoned Islam after the incident of the Satanic Verses, while al-Fasawī links reversion to the insincere conversion of some people who accepted Islam ṭamaᶜan (out of greed).226 Ibn Qutayba refers to cases of reversion and describes how Abū Bakr and ᶜUmar responded differently to apostasy.227 Moreover, in what seem to be polemic reports against earlier revelations, we encounter various examples of reversion from Islam, particularly to Christianity.228 Al-Balādhurī writes of many who reverted from Islam, and refers to ᶜAbdullāh ibn Abī Sarḥ, who reverted and then converted 221 Ibn Abī Khaythama, Ta’rīkh (Part 2), 1:305 (conversion in order to spare belongings and life), 2:991 (mā aslamū bal istaslamū); Ibn Abī Khaythama, Ta’rīkh (Part 3), 3:22–23 (conversion to save one’s relatives and possessions). 222 Al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 1:374 (conversion to save one’s life after defeat in battle), 1:377 (conversion to restore one’s possessions and avoid murder), 1:227; al-Balādhurī, Futūḥ al-buldān, 222 (conversion to save one’s money and life), 265. 223 Al-Yaᶜqūbī, Ta’rīkh, 2:49–50, 2:73 (conversion to restore one’s wife), 2:77–78 (conversion to keep one’s possessions), 2:83ff. (conversion after aslim taslam). 224 Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam, Futūḥ, 1:180; al-Jumaḥī, Ṭabaqāt, 1:149; al-Fasawī, Maᶜrifa, 3:301; Ibn Shabba, Ta’rīkh, 367, 438–437 (conversion in order to save one’s life). 225 For a study on reversion in legal sources, see Simonsohn, “Conversion to Islam,” 647–662, where he argues that reversion reflects not only a change of heart regarding religion, but also the existence of a social space within religious communities. See also Cook, “Apostasy,” 248–288. 226 Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 1:161 (reversion after the Satanic Verses), 2:71 (the reversion of the people of ᶜUrayna); Al-Fasawī, Maᶜrifa, 1:301 (people accept Islam ṭamaᶜan). For a recent study on the Satanic Verses, see Ahmed, Before Orthodoxy, ch. 2 (41–264), where he examines the earliest traditions on the alleged incident. Ahmed argues that early Muslims acknowledged that the incident occurred, while later Muslims, particularly the muḥaddithūn, rejected it, denied any error attributed to Muhammad, and composed competing traditions against it. For a classical Sunnī praise for aṣḥāb al-ḥadīth, see al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Sharaf aṣḥāb al-ḥadīth, 30ff. 227 Ibn Qutayba, Maᶜārif, 1:303, 1:331, 1:399 (conversion and reversion, and how Abū Bakr and ᶜUmar responded differently to apostasy), 1:593 and 1:644 (two cases of reversion to Christianity). 228 See Ibn Ḥabīb, Muḥabbar, 1:171–172; Ibn Qutayba, Maᶜārif, 1:593, 1:644; Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 1:203 (the king of Ghassān reverted to Christianity).
212 Conversion to Islam back to Islam.229 Similarly, Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam highlights a case of conversion and reversion several times, while al-Yaᶜqūbī describes five cases of reversion, as well as conversion after reversion.230 In the same vein, Ibn Saᶜd describes the incident of ᶜAmr ibn ᶜĀmir, who converted, reverted after Muhammad’s death, and then converted again.231 Muṣᶜab provides a rare report: after Muhammad’s death, the people of Mecca were vexed, seethed, and almost reverted.232 The numerous references to reversion from Islam suggest the veracity of the initial argument of this study concerning the centrality of conversion as a literary topic and its various historiographical themes. I argue that topoi of compromise mainly address and respond to communal needs among Muslims. They aim to distinguish between commendable and uncommendable aspects of conversion, which is comparable, though not identical, to the aim of topoi of significance. There is one more important observation to make concerning topoi of compromise. Classical Muslim historians, it appears, did not feel the need to be apologetic regarding these negative causes of conversion (e.g., political surrender, tribal allegiance, or a decision to save one’s life, relatives, or possessions). Historians have likely considered these notions to be part of Islam’s political superiority. Unlike contemporary Muslim apologists, classical historians were not responding to accusations that Islam was spread by the sword. Modern and contemporary Muslims respond to different charges against their faith; thus, they need to establish different hermeneutical responses by reinterpreting the texts to appeal to today’s audience.233 While topoi of compromise highlight negative incidents of conversion for the purpose of cautioning believers against them, topoi of significance present positive examples to follow. In the following discussion, we turn to topoi of supremacy and affirmation, combining them. They appear to target different audiences and highlight the superiority of Islam, its messenger, and its message, in comparison to other faiths, particularly Judaism and Christianity. 229 Al-Balādhurī, Futūḥ al-buldān, 41, 87, 473 (the case of ᶜAbdullāh ibn Abī Sarḥ, representing conversion followed by reversion, then conversion again). 230 Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam, Futūḥ, 1:196 (conversion and reversion several times); al-Yaᶜqūbī, Ta’rīkh, 1:311 (Maqīs), 2:27 (five people reverted), 2:146 (Musaylima), 2:342–343; al-Yaᶜqūbī, Mushākalat, 195 (conversion after reversion). 231 Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 1:248. 232 Zubayrī, Nasab, 1:415. 233 See Ibrahim, Stated, ch. 1.
Attempts at Compromise 213
Topoi of Supremacy and Affirmation Topoi of supremacy and topoi of affirmation present Islam’s uniqueness to non-Muslims. The former emphasize Islam’s hegemony and its superiority over previous religions, especially Judaism and Christianity. The latter provide proof of Muhammad’s prophethood and the eloquence and inimitability of the Qur’ān. In establishing Islam’s superiority over previous revelations, the theme of the conversion of ahl al-kitāb (Jews and Christians) appears in numerous accounts. Concerning the Jews, we are told that Jews converted from various lands and social levels, and in different ways: The Jews of Banū al-Najjār accepted Islam; some converted from Ḥimyar, including the infamous Kaᶜb al-Aḥbār, and others converted after discovering Muhammad’s name mentioned in the Torah.234 Some Jews converted and were promised paradise, while others converted after being invaded.235 More to this point, Ibn Saᶜd reports Jews confirming Muhammad’s prophethood.236 The references are not only plentiful; they also emphatically prove the successful mission of Islam in persuading the Jews. Concerning Christians, Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam writes of how Muhammad called al-Muqawqis to Islam, and Ibn Qutayba states the name of a Christian convert, ᶜAmr ibn al-Masīḥ, and describes a Christian monk who considered Christianity, then followed Abraham’s religion, but later converted to Islam once he met Muhammad.237 The report suggests that meeting Muhammad directly impacted the Christians and convinced them to convert to Islam. Ibn Saᶜd describes the Christian Najāshī accepting Islam willingly, while al-Yaᶜqubī writes of a Christian who converted after hearing Muhammad’s 234 Ibn Ḥabīb, Muḥabbar, 1:131 (a Jew from Ḥimyar); Ibn Qutayba, Maᶜārif, 1:430 (Kaᶜb al- Aḥbār), 1:532 (Hārūn ibn Mūsā); al-Yaᶜqūbī, Ta’rīkh, 2:49–50 (Salām the Jew); Ibn Qutayba, ᶜUyūn, 4:17; Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 1:145 (a Jew), 1:170 (Jews of Banū al-Najjār), 1:270–271 (a Jew converted after reading about Muhammad in the Torah); Ibn Abī Khaythama, Ta’rīkh (Part 3), 1:353; al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 1:266 (ᶜAbdullāh converted after seeing Muhammad’s name in the Torah; Mukhayriq the Jew converted also). 235 Al-Fasawī, Maᶜrifa, 1:468 (a Jew converted and was promised paradise); al-Jumaḥī, Ṭabaqāt, 1:149 (Jews converted after being invaded). 236 Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 1:128 (Jews and Christians confirm Muhammad’s prophethood). Donner refers to the theme of nubuwwa (prophecy) in Narratives, 149ff. On the theme of prophecy or prophethood, see Stroumsa, “Signs,”101–114; also Wansbrough, Sectarian, 27, as he refers to the mabᶜath literature. On Muhammad as an unmatched convincing proclaimer, see al-ᶜAqqād, ᶜAbqariyyat Muḥammad, 19ff. 237 Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam, Futūḥ, 1:67 (calling al-Muqawqis to Islam); Ibn Qutayba, Maᶜārif, 1:61 (a monk considered Christianity, then followed Abraham’s religion, but later converted to Islam once he met Muhammad), 1:314 (ᶜAmr ibn al-Masīḥ); Ibn Qutayba, ᶜUyūn, 1:300.
214 Conversion to Islam words.238 These reports, among many others, indicate the aim of Muslim historians to emphasize how Islam persuaded many Christians, whether through direct preaching or through encountering Muhammad in person.239 As a result, the reader is to glean the hegemony of Islam and its power to surpass and suppress previous revelations. Topoi of supremacy are fortified by topoi of affirmation, as they serve similar goals in the glorification and elevation of Islam. In affirming Muhammad and his message, we trace themes of conversion as a result of meeting Muhammad, seeing him performing a miracle, or after finding his name in pre-Islamic scriptures. In what seems to be a strong affirmation of Islam, ᶜUmar ibn Shabba claims that individuals were set free from the jinn once they converted to Islam.240 Ibn Saᶜd describes various conversions which took place due to encountering Muhammad: One man converted after witnessing Muhammad’s miracle; another converted after Muhammad explained to him the laws and Qur’ān; and many more converted after discovering Muhammad’s name mentioned in the Torah or hearing Christians’ foretelling of the prophet Aḥmad.241 Ibn Ḥabīb writes of Qays, who converted after meeting and talking with Muhammad; Rukāna, who converted after Muhammad performed a miracle to convince him; and the notable Arab Ḥamza ibn ᶜAbd al-Muṭṭalib, who converted after seeing the qualities of Muhammad’s character when he refused to insult Abū Jahl.242 Ibn ᶜAbd al- Ḥakam points out that ᶜAmr ibn al-ᶜĀṣ converted after seeing Muhammad preparing for ritual prayer, while al-Yaᶜqubī describes how people converted after hearing Muhammad’s words or after witnessing him save himself miraculously.243 Al-Balādhurī claims that some of the anṣār converted once they 238 Yaᶜqubī, Ta’rīkh, 2:36 (a Christian converted after hearing Muhammad’s words); Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 1:162 and 1:198 (the Christian Najāshī converted). 239 For more references on Christian converts, see Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 1:239, 2:68, 3:96; Abū Zurᶜa al-Dimashqī, Ta’rīkh, 1:247, 1:386; Ibn Qutayba, ᶜUyūn al-akhbār, 1:300; Ibn Abī Khaythama, al- Ta’rīkh al-kabīr, Akhbār al-makkiyyīn, 1:405–406; Ibn Abī Khaythama, Ta’rīkh (Part 3), 1:258, 1:283, 3:91. 240 Ibn Shabba, Ta’rīkh, 406. 241 Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 1:143 (conversion after witnessing Muhammad’s miracle), 1:236 (conversion after Muhammad explained the laws and Qur’ān), 1:230, 1:139 and 1:145 (Muhammad is mentioned in the Torah), 1:270 (a Jew converted after tracing Muhammad’s name in the Torah), 3:161–162 (conversion of Ṭalḥa ibn ᶜUbaydallāh after hearing a Christian monk in Buṣrā foretelling of prophet Aḥmad mentioned in the Torah), 3:404 (Khubayb), 4:182. 242 Ibn Ḥabīb, Munammaq, 1:144 (Qays converted after meeting and talking with Muhammad), 1:152 (Rukāna converted after Muhammad performed a miracle to convince him), 1:339–340 (Ḥamza ibn ᶜAbd al-Muṭṭalib converted after seeing the qualities of Muhammad’s character when he refused to insult Abū Jahl). 243 Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam, Futūḥ, 1:278–279 (ᶜAmr ibn al-ᶜĀṣ converted after seeing Muhammad preparing for ritual prayer); Yaᶜqubī, Ta’rīkh, 2:36 (conversion after hearing Muhammad’s words), 2:38, 2:57 (conversion after seeing the miracle of Muhammad being saved from poison).
Attempts at Compromise 215 heard of Muhammad because they had already learned of his advent from the Jews who proclaimed that the Torah testifies to him.244 Ibn Abī Khaythama reports of conversions taking place due to Muhammad’s preaching and performing prayers.245 Muṣᶜab al-Zubayrī writes of a man who initially wanted to kill Muhammad, but converted after meeting him.246 In addition, topoi of affirmation are also reflected in the themes of conversion after hearing the Qur’ān’s recitation, or conversion after receiving Islam’s message from family members. Historians emphasize both the impact of the recitation of the Qur’ān and its proclamation as Islam’s message.247 The themes focus on the unmatched power of Islam’s scripture and its persuasive ability: The logic is that, if the Qur’ān is capable of captivating the hearts of pagans, there is no doubt about its divine origin. This, in turn, affirms Islam, its Prophet, and its message. In conclusion to this section concerning the four conversion topoi, there are ample conversion references in the post-miḥna historical sources. Conversion literary topoi and their subsequent themes are traceable throughout these sources, which suggests the veracity of the initial argument of this study. The question remains: How did the miḥna affect the portrayal of specific historical episodes, particularly the conversion details of key Muslim figures? If the miḥna and its failure created a new historical reality between the caliph and the historian, how did this permeate historical representations? This is the focus of the following section.
Attempts at Compromise: Reconciling Trends and Pro-Umayyad Voices Previously in this chapter, in studying the biographical data of the post- miḥna historians and their conversion depictions, we established three major 244 Al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 1:239 (some of the anṣār heard about Muhammad’s advent from the Jews; the Torah testifies to Muhammad), 1:266, 1:311. 245 Ibn Abī Khaythama, Ta’rīkh (Part 2), 1:225 (conversion due to Muhammad’s preaching), 1:428– 429, 1:500 (conversion due to seeing Muhammad and learning prayers); also Ibn Abī Khaythama, Ta’rīkh (Part 3), 1:167. 246 Zubayrī, Nasab, 1:96, 1:124, 1:252, 1:391 (a man initially wanted to kill Muhammad, but converted after meeting him). 247 For a few examples of conversion after hearing the Qur’ān, see Yaᶜqubī, Ta’rīkh, 2:38; Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 1:198, 1:230, 1:236, 3:321, 4:180ff. For conversion due to hearing Islam’s message from relatives, see Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ta’rīkh, 1:93; Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 1:229, 2:68, 4:169ff. (Abū Dharr and his family), 4:180ff.; Ibn Qutayba, Maᶜārif, 1:423; Ibn Abī Khaythama, Ta’rīkh (Part 3), 3:250 (a man converted before he died because of his son’s preaching).
216 Conversion to Islam observations. First, the enforcement of the miḥna was an act of flogging against ahl al-ḥadīth to suppress their religious influence, but its failure declared the ᶜulamā’ victorious and granted them some independence from the caliphal power.248 However, their independence was not unlimited, as their authority had already been challenged by Muᶜtazilism, which questioned traditions and demanded critical reasoning.249 Second, post- miḥna historians, who mostly operated as ḥadīth scholars, demonstrated diligent attempts at reconciling competing reports, although they remained devoted to their particular religio-political views. Third, while early ᶜAbbāsid historians—as we discussed in Chapter 3—primarily served the ᶜAbbāsid orthodoxy, post-miḥna historical accounts include pro-Umayyad voices. The central argument in this section is that both the harmonization of historical accounts and the existence of pro-Umayyad voices in ᶜAbbāsid-era works reflect attempts at compromise in historical writing. Franz Rosenthal, in his description of ᶜAbbāsid-era works, argues that the ᶜAbbāsids attempted to impose their historical orthodoxy—particularly regarding their ancestor al-ᶜAbbās—immediately after gaining power; however, with the passing of time, the combination of competing accounts resulted in “some sort of compromise.”250 Similarly, Erling Petersen mentions “attempts at compromise” in historical writing and argues they began after the Caliph al-Mutawakkil (r. 232/847–247/861) abolished the miḥna in 232/847.251 For Petersen, these post-miḥna attempts at compromise indicate not only that Muᶜtazilism challenged the compilation of traditions (which resulted in the creation of harmonizing accounts) but also that Muslim historians were diligently seeking some sort of independence from the caliphal authority.252
248 The ᶜulamā’ gained some independence, but not total freedom: “When after the miḥna the caliphs gradually abandoned their [religious] claim in principle, too, and the jurists came to the fore instead, striving for the definition of truth was always accompanied by the fear that unity might suffer.” Van Ess, Theology, 4:768. The author concludes that, after the miḥna, the caliph “was no longer the educator, but subject to the divine law like [the ᶜulamā’]” (4:792). 249 On how Muᶜtazilism challenged traditionists, see van Ess, Theology, 4:203, where he states, “the miḥna awakened theology even in circles close to the aṣḥāb al-ḥadīth.” See 1:71, 2:390. 250 Rosenthal, “Review,” 537–538. I am indebted to Rosenthal, Petersen, and Hibri for much of my thinking in this section. For the persecution of the Muᶜtazila after the miḥna, see al-Tanūkhī, al-Faraj baᶜd al-shidda, 2:32ff. For some Muᶜtazilites during and after the miḥna, see van Ess, Theology, 4:3ff., where he argues that the failure of the miḥna affected Muᶜtazilism and, “While there was clearly no boycott of the Muᶜtazila in the decades following the miḥna, it did increasingly find itself as the target of a literary offensive as, indeed, did other ‘sects’ ” (4:304). 251 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 133ff., where he labels the period 235/850–287/900 as the time when “attempts at Compromise” in historical writing took place. 252 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 135; van Ess, Theology, 2:390. See also Hughes, Muslim, 141, where he describes the ᶜulamā’ as “a group that defined itself largely in terms of its adherence to and interpretation of
Attempts at Compromise 217 In the same vein, Tayeb el Hibri argues convincingly that the clash between the ᶜulamā’ and the caliphs during the miḥna resulted in establishing a pro- Umayyad stance, which permeated ᶜAbbāsid-era historical writing.253 This explains why we find historians serving under the ᶜAbbasids yet voicing pro- Umayyad sympathies (e.g., Muṣᶜab al-Zubayrī, Khalīfa, al-Balādhurī, and Ibn Abī Khaythama). In this section, I will focus on analyzing selected conversion incidents in order to show how the post-miḥna depictions reflect attempts at compromise. These attempts are evident in the evolving depictions of religio-politically controversial figures converting to Islam. In particular, the conversion narratives of al-ᶜAbbās, Muᶜāwiya, and ᶜAlī reflect not only each historian’s religio-political inclination but also how post-miḥna historians were diligent in creating reconciling trends in historical reports, by advancing moderate depictions and suppressing extremist versions.254 I will demonstrate that compromises in literary accounts were necessary and inevitable, as I display how historians tweaked historical descriptions by adjusting the depictions from preceding generations.255 While these historians differ in their perspectives and inclinations, they seem to have sought to harmonize discrepancies within historical reports.256 The adaptation of historical writing to the religio-political requirements of the day resulted in, as Petersen observes, “a long series of syntheses that epitomized the work of the preceding generations.”257
Muhammad’s Sunna. In the second quarter of the ninth century, they began to challenge the caliph’s religious function as the sole arbiter of orthodoxy” (italics mine). 253 See Hibri, “Redemption,” 241ff., especially 254; Rosenthal, “Review,” 537; Petersen, ᶜAlī, 109ff. 254 See Petersen, ᶜAlī, 173, where he analyzes depictions of the fitna by post-miḥna historians and argues that “all bear the stamp of the political, religious and social antagonisms of their time” and that they “all tend to formulate an interpretation . . . bringing over the moderate differences of opinion, and suppressing extremist points of view” (173). Similarly, he writes on the reconciling trends between writers and rulers, aiming “to try to find a compromise between the conflicting views or reconciliatory trends, which on either side strive towards a common goal” (173). For the extremist views and groups, especially their rise in the few decades before the ᶜAbbāsid revolution, see Petersen, ᶜAlī, 52–53, 68, and 88, where he explains how the ᶜAbbāsids relied heavily on Muᶜtazilism, which sharply denounced the Umayyads and the extreme Shīᶜism. 255 See Petersen, ᶜAlī, 135, where he explains a long series of syntheses in historical accounts, as he argues that the most prominent historians of this effort are al-Balādhurī, al-Dīnawarī, al-Yaᶜqūbī, and al-Ṭabarī. 256 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 135, where he points out that these historians shared “in maintaining the basis of the tradition, and at the same time attest to the possibility of creating a lasting synthesis on this material” (135). 257 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 135; see also his discussion on “attempts at compromise” (133–134), as he provides the examples of Abū al-Ḥasan al-Ashᶜarī (ca. 324/936) and al-Masᶜūdī (d. 345/956).
218 Conversion to Islam
Al-ᶜAbbās ibn ᶜAbd al-Muṭṭalib (d. 32/653) While al-ᶜAbbās is important to the ᶜAbbāsids because he serves as their progenitor, the Umayyad-era writers did not necessarily esteem him.258 Al- Zuhrī clearly states that al-ᶜAbbās was a pagan during the Battle of Badr (2/ 624); he not only fought against the Muslims but was taken captive and later rescued by Muhammad.259 This picture—of a late convert, a prisoner at Badr, and a ransomed captive—portrays him negatively.260 This depiction was unacceptable within a pro-ᶜAbbāsid paradigm. Consequently, the ᶜAbbāsid- era writers had to rehabilitate al-ᶜAbbās’s image by adjusting his conversion anecdote through the addition or suppression of literary features.261 Early ᶜAbbāsid historians (pre-miḥna) developed an excuse for al-ᶜAbbās’s late conversion, while later historians (post-miḥna) complemented this depiction in ways which served the ᶜAbbāsid ideology.262 A brief survey will provide clarification. 258 For primary sources on al-ᶜAbbās, see al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 4:1–22 (Muhammad defends al- ᶜAbbās’s fighting against the Muslims in Badr, and states that he converted in secret on the night of al-ᶜAqaba, before the hijra, and was a spy for Muhammad at Badr); Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 4:3ff. (three years older than Muhammad, and converted in secret); Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ta’rīkh, 1:86, 168 (his life and death); Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ, Ṭabaqāt, 29 (family and genealogy); Ibn Qutayba, Maᶜārif, 374 (his family); al-Fasawī, Maᶜrifa, 1:493ff. (his family and career); al-Dhahabī, Ta’rīkh, 3:373ff. (his conversion took place after he paid ransom for himself); al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 2:78ff. (he converted in secret before the hijra); Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, Istīᶜāb, 2:810ff. (he converted before Badr and was a spy for Muhammad in Mecca); Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 26:273ff. (he converted before the hijra in secret, yet declared his conversion after he was taken captive in Badr); Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 3:163 (he converted before the hijra); Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī, Iṣāba, 3:511 (various contradicting accounts on his conversion: He participated at Badr with the Meccan pagans unwillingly, attended the ᶜAqaba Pledge before his conversion, and acted as a spy for Muhammad). 259 Zuhrī, Maghāzī, 66. Herbert Berg writes, “What is clear is that [al-ᶜAbbās’s participation at Badr] was a source of embarrassment and several ᶜAbbāsid era historians made a concerted effort to mitigate or obviate that embarrassment.” Berg, “ᶜAbbāsid,” 36. Unlike al-Zuhrī, ᶜAbbāsid writers create a strong connection between Muhammad and al-ᶜAbbās. See Ibn Hishām and Ibn Isḥāq, Life, 338; Ṭabarī, Ta’rīkh, 1290ff. On al-ᶜAbbās, see also Ṭāhā Ḥusayn, al-Shaykhān, 33–37. 260 Sylaum ibn Qays did not mention al-ᶜAbbās’s conversion at all. The only reference to al-ᶜAbbās in Kitāb Sulaym comes after Muhammad’s death, when Abū Bakr and ᶜUmar tried to convince al- ᶜAbbās to succeed Muhammad and he refused. See Sulaym ibn Qays, Kitāb Sulaym, 140–142. We should also note that the extant works of Sayf ibn ᶜUmar and Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim do not focus on Muhammad’s years and, therefore, do not mention al-ᶜAbbās’s conversion. The only mention of al-ᶜAbbās by Naṣr appears at the arbitration between ᶜAlī and Muᶜāwiya, when al-ᶜAbbās chose al- Ashᶜarī to represent ᶜAlī. See Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim, Waqᶜat, 503. 261 Berg, “ᶜAbbāsid,” 13, where he argues, “Most historians, however, added embellishments in ways that reflected well on [al-ᶜAbbās] or, even more telling, suppressed some of the earlier, less flattering references.” He also comments that this “shows how relatively unimportant al-ᶜAbbās was in the central drama of Muḥammad’s biography as first recorded” (14). 262 Concerning early and late ᶜAbbāsid-era historians, see Berg, “ᶜAbbāsid,” 15, where he explains that historians of the second half of the third/ninth century, i.e., post-miḥna, are late historians: “al- Yaᶜqūbī (d. after 292/905), al-Dīnawarī (d. c. 281–290/894–903) and al-Ṭabarī (d. 310/923) are all later ᶜAbbāsid-era historians” (15).
Attempts at Compromise 219 Al-Wāqidī (d. ca. 207/823) avoids al-ᶜAbbās’s conversion altogether. One of the first mentions of al-ᶜAbbās by al-Wāqidī comes at Uḥud in 3/625, where al-ᶜAbbās appears as a hero serving as a spy for Muhammad among the Meccan pagans.263 As an early ᶜAbbāsid-era historian, al-Wāqidī most likely avoided al-ᶜAbbās’s conversion and his presumed capture at Badr in order to suppress an embarrassing account which conflicts with ᶜAbbāsid orthodoxy. This represents one of many early attempts by ᶜAbbāsid-era historians to transform the image of al-ᶜAbbās.264 Like al-Wāqidī, Ibn Hishām (d. 218/ 833) suppresses features from al-ᶜAbbās’s narratives—but, unlike al-Wāqidī, Ibn Hishām creatively transforms al-ᶜAbbās’s conversion report. Ibn Hishām portrays al-ᶜAbbās as concerned about his relatives, and states that he hated to disagree with his people.265 These details first appear in Ibn Hishām’s recension of the Sīra, and provide an excuse for the apparent delay in al-ᶜAbbās’s conversion.266 Moreover, Ibn Hishām states that al-ᶜAbbās had actually converted sometime before Badr, yet concealed his conversion due to his desire for unity, as well as concern for his many possessions.267 These new details alter the image of al-ᶜAbbās, remodeling and replacing a less favorable portrayal from previous generations. Furthermore, Ibn Hishām censored certain literary features which would have been problematic for his portrayal; for example, he deleted al-ᶜAbbās’s name from his list of pagan prisoners captured at Badr from Banū Hāshim.268 Suppressing such a report is significant, because al-ᶜAbbās’s captivity would have meant he was not Muslim. Ibn Hishām deleted this report so that his account on the early conversion of al-ᶜAbbās would ring true to his audience and serve ᶜAbbāsid orthodoxy. 263 Al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 1:203–204; for his role in the conquest of Mecca, 2:808ff.; for his humiliating treatment of Abū Sufyān, 2:815ff. 264 According to Berg, al-Wāqidī suggested “an early but clandestine conversion” for al-ᶜAbbās and claimed that “al-ᶜAbbās did not convert to Islam early because it was Allah’s will.” Berg, “ᶜAbbāsid,” 23. Berg’s interpretation appears exaggerated, as al-ᶜAbbās is not explicitly mentioned. In fact, Berg appears uncertain, as he then writes, “This story highlights the uniqueness of al-ᶜAbbās but still implies he is a polytheist” (23). 265 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:646. 266 As discussed earlier in this chapter, we know that Ibn Hishām’s Sīra is anti-Umayyad, pro- ᶜAbbāsid, and anti-ᶜAlid. See Sellheim, “Prophet”; Brown, Muhammad, 87; Berg, “ᶜAbbāsid,” 17ff.; Hibri, “Redemption,” 263–265; Lassner, Middle East, 314 n.5. 267 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:646, where al-ᶜAbbās is portrayed as concerned about his people; he hated to disagree with his tribe. It should be noted that, at the Aqaba Pledge, according to Ibn Hishām, al- ᶜAbbās was still mushrik (associater), 1:441. Undoubtedly, al-ᶜAbbās is a very important figure for the ᶜAbbāsids, to whom Ibn Hishām writes. See Berg, “ᶜAbbāsid,” 22, where he states, “Ibn Hishām explicitly states that al-ᶜAbbās converted before Badr.” 268 Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 2:3ff; Ibn Hishām and Ibn Isḥāq, Life, 338 and, to a lesser extent, 309. Berg comments on the list of prisoners, “The number of captives is given as 43 but only 42 are named; Ibn Hishām himself even notes that one prisoner is not mentioned.” Berg, “ᶜAbbāsid,” 21.
220 Conversion to Islam For the post- miḥna historians, the excuses provided by earlier historians—including al-Wāqidī and Ibn Hishām—were insufficient. They diligently tweaked literary features to polish the portrayal of the key ᶜAbbāsid ancestor and, for the most part, to establish his conversion date before the hijra. Muḥammad ibn Saᶜd (d. 230/844), an anti- Umayyad historian who supported Muᶜtazilism throughout the miḥna, repeatedly states that Muhammad completely trusted al-ᶜAbbās during the pre-hijra years in Mecca, and insists that al-ᶜAbbās converted in secret before the hijra.269 This places his conversion date at least two years before Badr. Ibn Saᶜd states that al-ᶜAbbās “concealed his conversion,” as he “was concerned for his people and hated to oppose them,” especially as “he had an abundance of possessions which were dispersed among his people.”270 If al-ᶜAbbās converted before the hijra, one may wonder why he did not participate in the Battle of Badr as a member of Muhammad’s camp. Ibn Saᶜd has an explanation. He writes that al-ᶜAbbās went to Badr unwillingly, and although he was in the pagan camp against the Muslims, he was actually serving Muhammad—to the extent that the Prophet declared that he knew that some of Banū Hāshim were forced by the Meccans to fight against the Muslims.271 Ibn Saᶜd’s additional details serve to create a redesigned depiction of al-ᶜAbbās and his conversion date, which serves the overall goal of the pro-ᶜAbbāsid orthodoxy. Like Ibn Saᶜd, Ibn Ḥabīb al-B aghdādī (d. 245/895) refers to al-ᶜAbbās as min kibār al-muslimīn (one of the great Muslims), and claims he was persecuted by the Meccans because of his “support and inclination” to Muhammad.272 While Ibn Ḥabīb does not explicitly mention al-ᶜAbbās’s conversion date, it is implied that he converted during the Meccan period before the hijra. Several post-miḥna Sunnī historians worked diligently to enhance al- ᶜAbbās’s image, particularly establishing his conversion favorably. Three historians are worth noting. Ibn Qutayba al-Dīnawarī (d. 276/889) clearly portrays al-ᶜAbbās as an early convert to Islam, before Badr, and insists he was forced to fight against the Muslims at Badr.273 Like Ibn Qutayba, Yaᶜqūb 269 Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 4:7. Note: Khalīfa does not mention al-ᶜAbbās’s conversion in his Ta’rīkh or Ṭabaqāt. 270 Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 4:7. 271 Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 4:7. 272 Ibn Ḥabīb, Muḥabbar, 1:161–162. 273 Ibn Qutayba, Maᶜārif, 1:156. Comparing Ibn Saᶜd and Ibn Qutayba, it is obvious that al- ᶜAbbās was favored by both trends, Muᶜtazilism and anti-Muᶜtazilism, in the post-miḥna period.
Attempts at Compromise 221 al-Fasawī (d. 277/890) affirms that al-ᶜAbbās was Muslim before Badr.274 Similarly, Ibn Abī Khaythama (d. 279/892), a Sunnī historian, reports twice that al-ᶜAbbās converted in Mecca, before the hijra, but hid his conversion for practical reasons.275 The reports of Ibn Qutayba, al-Fasawī, and Ibn Abī Khaythama reflect various attempts to push al-ᶜAbbās’s conversion date much earlier than it is reported in Umayyad-era writings. These three examples indicate that, during the post-miḥna period, particularly toward the end of the third/ninth century, various Sunnī (anti-Muᶜtazilite) Muslim historians were diligent in working within the pro-ᶜAbbāsid paradigm. The conflicting reports on al-ᶜAbbās appear to reach a reconciliatory phase during this time, which is further evident in the case of Aḥmad Ibn Yaḥyā al- Balādhurī (d. ca. 279/892). Al-Balādhurī’s narrative includes an additional element, stating that al- ᶜAbbās served as a spy for Muhammad against the Meccans during Badr, after converting in secret before the hijra.276 This description of al-ᶜAbbās serving as a spy answers various questions regarding al-ᶜAbbās’s reluctance to emigrate from Mecca to Medina with Muhammad. The accounts of al-Balādhurī demonstrate, once more, how most post-miḥna historians not only operated within a definitive pro-ᶜAbbāsid paradigm but also created reconciling historical trends by interpolating and suppressing literary features to serve their goals. However, this does not suggest that competing images of al-ᶜAbbās no longer existed. The accounts of Shīᶜite historian Ibn Wāḍiḥ al-Yaᶜqūbī (d. ca. 284/897)—a contemporary of the four abovementioned historians—serve as an example. Al-Yaᶜqūbī is clearly unwilling to follow the common trend of his contemporaries. He does not add embellishments in order to depict al- ᶜAbbās favorably. He insists that al-ᶜAbbās did not convert until the day of the Battle of Badr.277 He also indicates that al-ᶜAbbās only converted after the defeat at Badr, when he was captured as a prisoner of war. His conversion took place within the context of his conversation with Muhammad, when the Prophet commanded al-ᶜAbbās to pay his own ransom using money known 274 Al-Fasawī, Maᶜrifa, 1:511, where he writes an account attributed to a mawlā of Muhammad named Abū Rāfiᶜ, who declared, “I used to be a slave of al-ᶜAbbās ibn ᶜAbd al-Muṭṭalib. Islam entered among us, the ahl al-bayt (household of Muhammad), and al-ᶜAbbās accepted Islam, Umm al-Faḍl accepted Islam, and I accepted Islam. However, al-ᶜAbbās was concerned for his people and hated to oppose them. Therefore, he concealed his conversion.” 275 Ibn Abī Khaythama, Ta’rīkh (Part 2), 1:77 and 1:166, where he reports the same account mentioned above by al-Fasawī, Maᶜrifa, 1:511. 276 Al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 4:1–3, particularly 4:3. 277 Al-Yaᶜqūbī, Ta’rīkh, 2:45–46.
222 Conversion to Islam only to al-ᶜAbbās and his wife. This presumably demonstrated Muhammad’s prophetic abilities, and al-ᶜAbbās thus converted and traveled back to Mecca, “concealing his conversion.”278 The question remains as to why al- Yaᶜqūbī opposes the trends of his days. One reason may lie in the fact that al- Yaᶜqūbī is first and foremost pro-ᶜAlid.279 His devotion to ᶜAlī surpasses his commitments to the ᶜAbbāsids. To accentuate and improve al-ᶜAbbās’s image is to displace ᶜAlī and his household from the center of attention. I contend that the tension between the ᶜAlids and ᶜAbbāsids most likely dissuaded al- Yaᶜqūbī from depicting al-ᶜAbbās in an unwarranted special manner.280 Al-Yaᶜqūbī’s unique—or, more accurately, odd—depiction of al-ᶜAbbās’s conversion contradicts the picture portrayed by the majority of his contemporary counterparts. This is one reason for the modern scholarly contention that it is impossible to distinguish truth from fiction regarding al-ᶜAbbās and his conversion.281 To conclude this section, there are three necessary remarks to make in this regard. First, I argue that al-Yaᶜqūbī’s account of al-ᶜAbbās’s conversion is more convincing than those of other ᶜAbbāsid-era historians. Not only does it include elements found in pre-ᶜAbbāsid testimonies (particularly in al-Zuhrī’s accounts), but it also appears less refined, embroidered, and exaggerated.282 Second, al-Yaᶜqūbī’s views on al-ᶜAbbās will continue to flourish, although 278 Al-Yaᶜqūbī, Ta’rīkh, 2:46, where al-Yaᶜqūbī depicts al-ᶜAbbās pretending to have no money to ransom himself or his two nephews and confederates. He asked Muhammad to help him with the ransom money: “credit me with this amount towards my ransom.” When Muhammad refused, al- ᶜAbbās insisted, “I have no money.” Muhammad then asked, “Where is the money which you deposited with [your wife] in Mecca [before you marched to Badr]?” Astonished by the revealing question, al-ᶜAbbās declared, “By [Allah], nobody knows this except myself and her, [now] I know that you are Allah’s messenger.” The same account is also preserved in al-Ṭabarī, Ta’rīkh, 1344. See also Berg, “ᶜAbbāsid,” 21. 279 See my earlier discussion in this chapter on al-Yaᶜqūbī’s pro-ᶜAlid inclinations. Millward, “Study,” 6–7. Brockelmann, “Al-Yaᶜqūbī,” EI2, 11:257; Muṣṭafā, Ta’rīkh, 1:250–253; Anthony, “Was Ibn Wāḍiḥ,” 15–41. 280 On the tension between ᶜAlids and ᶜAbbāsids, see Petersen, ᶜAlī, 68, 145–146; Crone, Medieval, 87ff.; Berg, “ᶜAbbāsid,” 17, 29, and 32. 281 See Watt, “al-ᶜAbbās,” EI2, 1:9, where he states, “there was a tendency for historians under the ᶜAbbāsids to glorify [al-ᶜAbbās], and in his case it is particularly difficult to distinguish fact from fiction.” Regarding Watt’s assertion, Berg argues, “it is impossible to distinguish fact from fiction.” Berg, “ᶜAbbāsid,” 13. Similarly, Hibri concludes, “The story preserved in the early Islamic narratives was neither real in its details nor intended to be factual.” Hibri, Parable, 237. Fred Donner agrees with Hibri’s conclusions: “the extensive reports about the rāshidūn caliphs found in the Islamic historiographical tradition are largely shaped by later—in particular, Abbasid period—narrators who succeeded in creating a coherent, unified story that frequently included allegories and other kinds of parallels.” Donner, “Review,” 570. See Andræ, Die Person Muhammads, 26ff., where he examines “Die propheten legende”; also Rubin, Eye, 3. 282 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 109, argues that the pro-Umayyad tradition (like that of al-Zuhrī) “showed but very little viability and was suppressed very early by the Abbasid and Shiite tradition.”
Attempts at Compromise 223 as a minority testimony within the majority of classical agreement. Most depictions of al-ᶜAbbās will continue to follow the footsteps of al-Balādhurī and similar narratives.283 Third, the development of al-ᶜAbbās’s narrative throughout the ᶜAbbāsid era, both pre-and post-miḥna, reflects “attempts at compromise” in historical writing. These attempts, in the case of al-ᶜAbbās, appear in the diligent efforts of historians to create reconciling historiographical trends by magnifying or repressing literary features. Conversely, these attempts—in the case of, for instance, Muᶜāwiya ibn Abī Sufyān—are demonstrated in the pro-Umayyad reports which permeate ᶜAbbāsid-era accounts. This will be explained in the following section.
Muᶜāwiya ibn Abī Sufyān (d. 61/680) Just as al-ᶜAbbās’s conversion date is important to the ᶜAbbāsids, Muᶜāwiya’s is meaningful to the Umayyads. Establishing an early conversion for Muᶜāwiya is crucial to pro-Umayyad claims, especially as he was commonly identified as a late convert,284 specifically from among the ṭulaqā’ and mu’allafa qulūbuhum.285 The attempts at compromise by the ᶜAbbāsid-era historians appear in how they sought to rehabilitate the image of Muᶜāwiya. 283 Al-Dhahabī provides two contradicting accounts: in Ta’rīkh, 3:373ff. (al-ᶜAbbās converted after Badr), and in Siyar, 2:78ff. (he converted in secret before the hijra). Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, Istīᶜāb, 2:810ff. (al-ᶜAbbās converted before Badr); Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 26:273ff. (he converted in secret before the hijra and was forced to announce his conversion after being captured in battle); Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 3:163 (he converted before the hijra); Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī, Iṣāba, 3:511 (many contradicting reports on his conversion: He was Muslim at Badr, yet was forced to fight the Muslims, and even though he was pagan at the ᶜAqaba Pledge, he still supported Muhammad). 284 Major Umayyad figures (of Banū Umayya), including Abū Sufyān, Muᶜāwiya, and Ṣafwān, embraced Islam on (or after) the day of the conquest. Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī, Fatḥ, 6:252, 8:48 (kān islāmu-hum ḍaᶜīfan, i.e., weak Islam; their list includes Abū Sufyān and Muᶜāwiya). Al-Dhahabī, Siyar, 3:119ff.; Muqātil ibn Sulaymān, Tafsīr, 2:176–177. See Chapters 2–3. See Keshk, “Depiction,” 38, where he argues, “when we come to the civil war between ᶜAlī and Muᶜāwiya we have to believe that the latter knew that the former was higher in standing because of his early conversion.” Berg, “ᶜAbbāsid,” 17, suggests the same. 285 For references and explanations on the ṭulaqā’ and mu’allafa, see Chapters 2–3. The term ṭulaqā’ is not only negative but also most likely anti-Umayyad. For this reason, Bosworth explains that the term ṭulaqā’ “was subsequently used opprobriously by opponents of the Meccan late converts, such as enemies of the Umayyads, the clan of Abū Sufyān who had previously led the Meccan opposition to Muhammad.” Bosworth, “Ṭulakā’,” EI2, 10:603. See Ibn Ḥibbān, Sīra, 1:337, 2:536, where Muᶜāwiya is one of the ṭulaqā’. In fact, both Abū Sufyān and Muᶜāwiya (major Umayyad figures) are not only labeled ṭulaqā’ but are also among the mu’allafa qulūbuhum (those whose hearts have not been reconciled), who received incentives to accept Islam. See al-Kalāᶜī, Iktifā’, 1:538. See Petersen, ᶜAlī, 60 (Muᶜāwiya among the ṭulaqā’). On Muᶜāwiya, see al-Khuḍarī, al-Dawla al-umawiyya, 424–452; al-ᶜAqqād, Muᶜāwiya, 12ff.; al-Ṣallābī, al-Dawla al-umawiyya, 1:28ff.; al-Ṣallābī, ᶜAṣr al-dawlatayn, 12–20; Keshk, “When,” 31–42; also ᶜAṭiyya, Dimā’ ᶜalā jidār al-sulṭa, ch. 1, where he argues that Muᶜāwiya was wrongly seeking al-mulk (dominion and power), not al-khilāfa (the rightful legitimate
224 Conversion to Islam They provide various accounts of his conversion in order to disperse the claims about its late date. In the pre-ᶜAbbāsid era, pro-ᶜAlid Sulaym ibn Qays refers to Muᶜāwiya as a dishonest late convert on the day of the conquest of Mecca, while pro- Umayyad al-Zuhrī avoids mentioning Muᶜāwiya’s conversion altogether.286 In the early ᶜAbbāsid era, the Shiite Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim (d. 212/827) states that Muᶜāwiya converted rāhib ghayr rāghib (out of fear, not of conviction).287 Pre-miḥna historians, such as al-Wāqidī and Ibn Hishām, do not mention Muᶜāwiya’s conversion explicitly, even though they both refer to his father’s (Abū Sufyān’s) conversion.288 In the post-miḥna era, various historians seem to begin meticulous attempts to establish a better picture of Muᶜāwiya’s conversion date, thus allowing a pro-Umayyad voice to emerge within ᶜAbbāsid orthodoxy.289 Muḥammad ibn Saᶜd (d. 230/844) writes that Muᶜāwiya converted to Islam two years before the conquest of Mecca but concealed his conversion for the sake of his father, Abū Sufyān.290 This is the first attempt by an ᶜAbbāsid-era historian to dispute earlier depictions of Muᶜāwiya as an insincere convert who accepted Islam as one of the ṭulaqā’. In an attempt to harmonize earlier competing reports, Ibn Saᶜd affirms that Muᶜāwiya did not convert on the day of the conquest of Mecca, but only declared his conversion to Muhammad.
succession), which was supposedly ᶜAlī’s right. For a contemporary defense of Muᶜāwiya, see the study of the Egyptian scholar Shiḥāta Ṣaqr, Muᶜāwiya ibn Abī Sufyān, amīr al-mu’minīn wa kātib waḥy al-nabī, 157ff. Ṣaqr is a member of the Salafi Shūra Committee in Egypt. The book refutes thirty-five accusations against Muᶜāwiya and elevates him as khāl al-mu’minīn (the uncle of the Believers). 286 See Sulaym ibn Qays, Kitāb Sulaym, 279, where Muᶜāwiya is described as one of the supporters of al-kadhdhābūn wa-l-munāfiqūn (liars and hypocrites, or weak Muslims). 287 Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim, Waqᶜat Siffīn, 214. According to Naṣr, ᶜAlī degraded Muᶜāwiya by identifying him as among the ṭulaqā’, who do not deserve the office of caliph (29–30). 288 Ibn Hishām states that Mūᶜāwiya (1) believed that Muhammad’s Night Journey was merely a vision and (2) received from Muhammad one hundred camels as one of the mu’allafa qulūbuhum, which suggests he was a late convert, although this is not explicitly stated. See Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 1:400 and 2:492–493, respectively. See al-Wāqidī, Maghāzī, 3:944–945, where Abū Sufyān intercedes for Muᶜāwiya with Muhammad. The Prophet then gave Muᶜāwiya one hundred camels. This event was definitely after al-Ṭā’if, indicating that Muᶜāwiya converted long after the conquest of Mecca. For a positive view on Muᶜāwiya’s conversion based on the Qur’ān and the sunna, see al-Ṣallābī, Dawla, 1:40ff. 289 See Hibri, “Redemption,” 241–242, where he examines pro-Umayyad accounts which survived ᶜAbbāsid hostility. See also Petersen, ᶜAlī, 109ff.; Borrut, Entre, ch. 1. 290 Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 7:285. See al-Ṣallābī, Dawla, 1:40, where he diligently attempts to portray Muᶜāwiya favorably by insisting that even the Qur’ān supports an early conversion date for Muᶜāwiya. See also al-Ṣallābī, ᶜAṣr al-dawlatayn, 12ff.
Attempts at Compromise 225 Moreover, Ibn Saᶜd justifies the gift Muᶜāwiya received from Muhammad by indicating it was merely a part of the spoils of Ḥunayn and al-Ṭā’if.291 Like Ibn Saᶜd, Muṣᶜab al-Zubayrī (d. 236/851), an anti-Shiite genealogist, reports that Muᶜāwiya converted two years before the conquest of Mecca, disputing he was from the mu’allafa.292 Ibn Abī Khaythama (d. 279/892), a Sunnī historian, reports (on the authority of Muṣᶜab) that Muᶜāwiya converted one year before the conquest of Mecca in the so-called year of ᶜumrat al-qaḍā’, when he met the Prophet during the pilgrimage and presented his islām (conversion), which Muhammad accepted.293 Pro-Umayyad Aḥmad al-Balādhurī (d. ca. 279/892) continues the attempts to adjust Muᶜāwiya’s conversion date.294 He adopts an approach similar to that of Ibn Saᶜd: Even though Muᶜāwiya’s conversion reportedly occurred on the day of the conquest of Mecca, “Islam entered his heart” sometime earlier, but his parents warned him against accepting Islam or they would deprive him of food.295 Al-Balādhurī successfully fills in the gaps by answering questions related to Muᶜāwiya’s concealment of his conversion. These attempts to alter Muᶜāwiya’s conversion date suggest not only that pro-Umayyad reports permeated ᶜAbbāsid orthodoxy but also that many post-miḥna historiographical works included attempts at compromise and reconciliation between competing trends. Of course, some attempts were clearer than others. For instance, the Sunnī historian Ibn Qutayba (d. 276/ 889) does not adopt the same approach as his contemporary al-Balādhurī. Ibn Qutayba attempts to move Muᶜāwiya’s conversion date, but not significantly. He states that Abū Sufyān converted qubayl (immediately) before the conquest of Mecca, and Muᶜāwiya converted “during the year of the conquest.”296 The ambiguity of this report creates confusion: While it implies that Muᶜāwiya could have converted at any time during that year, it does not establish a significantly early date of conversion. This suggests that, as late as the last quarter of the third/ninth century, historians were still struggling to provide possibilities for Muᶜāwiya’s conversion date. Some were willing to move the date one to two years earlier, establishing a safe early date before the 291 Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 7:285. 292 Zubayrī, Nasab, 1:122–124. 293 Ibn Abī Khaythama, Ta’rīkh (Part 2), 2:629. See Petersen, ᶜAlī, 113, where he writes that the pro- Umayyad tradition was brought to Baghdad by Ibn Abī Khaythama, who was accused of Ḥanbalism and subjected to the miḥna. For the persecution of Ibn Ḥanbal and his friends during the miḥna, see van Ess, Theology, 3:494ff. 294 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 146. 295 Al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 5:13. 296 Ibn Qutayba, Maᶜārif, 1:344 (Abū Sufyān), and 1:349 (Muᶜāwiya).
226 Conversion to Islam conquest of Mecca, while others were content with either providing vague reports or avoiding the mention of his conversion altogether.297 In my estimation, Muᶜāwiya’s conversion was not early. The various attempts to place his conversion before the conquest of Mecca reflect the efforts of historians who likely sought to create competing traditions against the ᶜAlid claims of legitimacy.298 Moreover, in the aftermath of the miḥna, it seems that the growing influence of religious scholars and traditionists allowed different voices— not only the pro- ᶜAbbāsid— to infuse historical writing under the caliphal authority. Arguably, some historians operating under the ᶜAbbāsids were themselves sympathetic to the Umayyad Caliphate.299 To conclude this section, there are two observations to make. First, the efforts of several post-miḥna historians successfully established competing traditions regarding Muᶜāwiya’s conversion, emphasizing an earlier date. This generated different views in favor of the first Umayyad caliph. These pro-Umayyad views continue to appear in later generations, although opposing claims will not completely vanish.300 Second, in the post-miḥna era, the pro-ᶜAbbāsid tradition was not free from the Umayyad voice, as many modern scholars rightly suggest.301 Thus, the case of Muᶜāwiya’s conversion date not only highlights the successful post-miḥna attempts at compromise
297 Almost all in our list of post-miḥna historians wrote something about Muᶜāwiya; however, many refrained from mentioning his conversion, including al-Jumaḥī (d. 232/847), Ibn Maᶜīn (d. 233/847), Khalīfa ̣ (d. 240/854), Ibn Ḥabīb (d. 245/895), Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam (d. 257/871), ᶜUmar ibn Shabba (d. 262/875), al-Fasawī (d. 277/890), Abū Zurᶜa (d. 281/894), Abū Ḥanīfa al-Dīnawarī (d. ca. 282/895), and al-Yaᶜqūbī (d. 284/897 or 292/905). 298 See Keshk, “Depiction,” 38, where he argues, “when we come to the civil war between ᶜAlī and Muᶜāwiya we have to believe that the latter knew that the former was higher in standing because of his early conversion.” See also Keshk, Historian’s Muᶜāwiya; Berg, “ᶜAbbāsid,” 17. 299 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 111, where he argues that “the scholars at Basra who handled the pro-Umayyad transmission were themselves sympathetic to the Syrian Caliphate.” 300 Al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 4:1–22 (al-ᶜAbbās was Muslim during Badr, converted in secret before the hijra, and spied against the Meccans); Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 4:3ff. (he converted in secret). Al-Dhahabī provides two contradicting accounts: in Ta’rīkh, 3:373ff. (al-ᶜAbbās converted after Badr) and in Siyar, 2:78ff. (he converted in secret before the hijra). See also Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, Istīᶜāb, 2:810ff. (he converted before Badr); Ibn ᶜAsākir, Ta’rīkh, 26:273ff. (he converted in secret before the hijra and was forced to announce his conversion after being captured in battle); Ibn al-Athīr, Usd, 3:163 (he converted before the hijra); Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī, Iṣāba, 3:511 (more contradicting accounts on his conversion: He was Muslim at Badr, yet was forced to fight the Muslims. While he was pagan at the ᶜAqaba Pledge, he still supported Muhammad). 301 See Petersen, ᶜAlī, 109ff., as he examines the survival of the pro-Umayyad tradition in the half-century following the miḥna. See also Hibri, “Redemption,” 241–265; Judd, Religious, 52ff. Borrut convincingly argues, “chaque projet de réécriture s’accompagna de sélections, d’ajouts et de suppressions, formant autant de filtres historiographiques successifs dont il n’était pas toujours possible de s’affranchir. Pareil constat implique qu’il fut parfois inévitable de composer avec du matériau sélectionné par ses rivaux ou concurrents.” Borrut, Entre, 62–63.
Attempts at Compromise 227 in historical writing but also indicates how these attempts permeated historical accounts through the creation of reconciling trends and the incorporation of pro-Umayyad voices.302 Like the cases of al-ᶜAbbās and Muᶜāwiya, the example of ᶜAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib’s conversion will demonstrate how the post-miḥna era witnessed various attempts at compromise in Muslim historical writing.
ᶜAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib (d. 40/661) While Muᶜāwiya and al-ᶜAbbās, respectively, are key to the pro-Umayyad and pro-ᶜAbbāsid claims for legitimacy, ᶜAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib is similarly fundamental to the pro-ᶜAlids and Shiites.303 Just as the conversion dates of Muᶜāwiya and al-ᶜAbbās are significant to their respective dynasties, the early conversion of ᶜAlī is necessary for the claims of his shīᶜa (factions).304 Just as pro-ᶜAbbāsid and pro-Umayyad historians insist on establishing early dates for the conversions of al-ᶜAbbās and Muᶜāwiya, the pro-ᶜAlids affirm that ᶜAlī was the first, the earliest, and the fastest to convert.305 Earlier in this chapter, as well as in previous chapters, I demonstrated that many historians report ᶜAlī to be the first male convert. Here I focus on his depiction by the post-miḥna historians in order to highlight the attempts at compromise in narrating his conversion. I argue that, in post-miḥna historical accounts, there are reconciling trends regarding ᶜAlī’s conversion: Some historians suggest that ᶜAlī and Abū Bakr were both the earliest to convert, while others—who are not pro-ᶜAlid—acknowledge ᶜAlī as the first male convert. However, acknowledgment of ᶜAlī’s early conversion does not necessarily constitute—for these historians—Shīᶜite or pro-ᶜAlid claims for legitimacy. It only suggests a growing realization among historians for the need to reach
302 On the redaction and successive filters applied under the ᶜAbbāsids, see Borrut, Entre, 61–108. See also Hoyland, Seeing, 32; Hoyland, “History,” 19; Savant, New Muslims, 13, where she writes, “Arabic sources tend to return to a common pool of memories about locales, events, institutions, and persons, but with different methods of selecting and manipulating the record.” See also Hoyland, “Arabic,” 221–222. For more on this, see the introductory chapter of this study. 303 On the importance of ᶜAlī, see the valuable (yet controversial) Arabic study of ᶜAlī al-Wardī, Wuᶜᶜāẓ al-salāṭīn, 182ff. See also al-Khuḍarī, al-Dawla al-umawiyya, 364–406. Keshk, “Depiction,” 38; Berg, “ᶜAbbāsid,” 17. For the Umayyad pursuit of legitimacy, see Donner, “Umayyad,” 187–211. 304 On the factions of ᶜAlī, see Crone, Medieval, 70ff.; Black, History, 40ff.; Watt, Islamic, 14ff. 305 See the Shiite accounts of Sulaym 133, 167; Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim, Waqᶜat, 118; al-Yaᶜqūbī, Ta’rīkh, 2:22.
228 Conversion to Islam reconciling trends in historical writing, by “bringing over the moderate differences of opinion, and suppressing extremist points of view.”306 ᶜAlī’s major competitor for the position of earliest to convert is Abū Bakr. Ibn Saᶜd (d. 230/844) mentions both men as firsts.307 In doing so, Ibn Saᶜd seems to settle a long-lived dispute. While he is known as an anti-Umayyad historian, and is most likely pro-ᶜAlid like his teacher al-Wāqidī, he does not resort to the extreme of fully supporting ᶜAlī as the first convert. Conversely, many post-miḥna Sunnī historians choose to tout ᶜAlī as the first convert, including Ibn Qutayba and Ibn Abī Khaythama.308 Even the pro-Umayyad and anti-Shiite historian al-Balādhurī—although he names Zayd as the first to convert—justifies ᶜAlī by claiming that Muhammad instructed him to conceal his early conversion, as I explained earlier.309 These accounts indicate post-miḥna attempts at compromise.310 We trace pro-ᶜAlid historians who adopt a moderate approach by offering options besides ᶜAlī, as well as anti-Shiite and pro-Umayyad historians who justify ᶜAlī without denying their own religio-political inclinations.311 Of course, competing narratives remain.312 However, once more, as in the cases of al-ᶜAbbās and Muᶜāwiya, the narratives of ᶜAlī’s conversion suggest that the post-miḥna period witnessed efforts by historians to harmonize conflicting accounts, advance moderate interpretations, and suppress extreme views.
306 Petersen, ᶜAlī, 173. 307 Ibn Saᶜd, Ṭabaqāt, 3:19–20 (ᶜAlī first), 3:157–158 (Abū Bakr first). For a reformed Muslim view on ᶜAlī and Abū Bakr and their dispute regarding the legitimacy of the caliphate, see al-R āziq, al-Islām wa uṣūl al-ḥukm, 117–119. ᶜAbd al-R āziq (d. 1385/1966) was an Egyptian Muslim reformer who received his education at al-Azhar and Oxford. His book was highly controversial in the 1920s. One of his major arguments is that Muhammad was mainly a prophet, not a political leader. The book is now translated into English as Razek, Islam and the Foundations of Political Power, 111ff. On the same topic, see Ṭāhā Ḥusayn, al-Shaykhān, 22, who clearly adopts Sunnī views. 308 Ibn Qutayba, Maᶜārif, 1:168–169 (ᶜAlī first); Ibn Abī Khaythama, al-Ta’rīkh al-kabīr, Akhbār al- makkiyyīn, 1:161–162; 1:164–165; 1:170; 1:177–178. See my explanation earlier in this chapter, where I list other references. 309 Al-Balādhurī, Ansāb, 1:113. Al-Balādhurī supports Zayd’s option because al-Zuhrī is his authority. See Petersen, ᶜAlī, 109. For al-Balādhurī’s pro-Umayyad and anti-Shiite tendencies, see Petersen, ᶜAlī, 14, 35, 124, 140. 310 See Petersen, ᶜAlī, 173, where he writes on reconciling trends between writers and rulers, “to try to find a compromise between the conflicting views or reconciliatory trends” (173). 311 On al-Zuhrī as the major authoritative informant of al-Balādhurī, see Petersen, ᶜAlī, 109, 136ff. 312 For instance, the Sunnī Yaḥyā ibn Maᶜīn (d. 233/847) insists that Abū Bakr was the first to convert, while the Shiite al-Yaᶜqūbī disagrees and states that it was ᶜAlī. Yaḥyā ibn Maᶜīn, Maᶜrifat, 1:151; Al-Yaᶜqūbī, Ta’rīkh, 2:22.
Attempts at Compromise 229
Conclusion In this chapter, I focused on the post-miḥna ᶜAbbāsid period (218/833–299/ 911). My aim was to trace conversion themes in historiographical works and analyze how the religio-political context after the miḥna may have affected conversion representations. To accomplish this objective, I divided the chapter into four sections. In the first section, I outlined the historical background of the miḥna period and surveyed various scholarly debates surrounding its reigio-political context and aftermath. I argued that, contrary to the scholarly argument that the miḥna was a reversal in a relationship of cooperation between the caliphs and the ᶜulamā’, it was the result of growing hidden tensions between the two. I also contended that the failure of the miḥna not only declared the victory of the ᶜulamā’ but also required them to offer attempts at compromise, which eventually influenced post-miḥna historical writing. In the second section, I examined the biographical data of the historians of this period. Relying on primary sources and secondary studies, I showed what we could glean regarding their religious sympathies and political inclinations. I argued that situating their historical reports within their religious and sociopolitical contexts helps us understand their literary choices. There were two major observations about the post-miḥna historians. First, the failure of the miḥna offered some independence to these historians. While some enjoyed their independence from the caliphal court, others continued their involvement in serving caliphal requirements. Second, some of these post-miḥna historians—though serving under the ᶜAbbāsids—were willing to entertain pro-Umayyad sympathies (e.g., Muṣᶜab al-Zubayrī, Khalīfa, al-Balādhurī, and Ibn Abī Khaythama), and their voices permeated ᶜAbbāsid-era accounts. In the third section, I traced various conversion themes within the works under scrutiny, identifying what I labeled as four conversion topoi. My goal was to test the veracity of their existence in post-miḥna works. I established the existence of an abundance of conversion references (without repeating the analyses I mentioned in previous chapters). Because my overall goal was to analyze how the aftermath of the miḥna shaped literary themes, in the fourth section I focused on the conversion narratives of key religio-political Muslim figures: al-ᶜAbbās, Muᶜāwiya, and ᶜAlī. I analyzed their conversion cases in post-miḥna works, comparing them with other classical Muslim narratives. I argued that, after the miḥna, historians made clear attempts at
230 Conversion to Islam compromise in order to establish reconciling trends in historical writing. These attempts were evident not only in the insertion of pro-Umayyad inclinations into ᶜAbbāsid-era reports but also in efforts to advance moderate interpretations and suppress radical views, as well as to harmonize conflicting accounts from preceding generations.
5 Conclusion As a tradition accumulates weight and authority, it shapes collective agreements about the past, thereby creating memories. —Sarah Savant, The New Muslims of Post-Conquest Iran, 2013 From the point of view of the coalescence of historiographical or narrative themes, it does not matter whether the material is gathered as a discrete and strictly delimited book, or only as a collection of notes on that topic. —Fred Donner, Narratives of Islamic Origins, 1998
The main goal of this investigation was to examine conversion to Islam as portrayed in historiographical Muslim accounts from the first three centuries of Islam. I was not concerned with the history of conversion, but instead with its historiographical representation. This study focused on how religious and sociopolitical context may have influenced Muslim historians’ descriptions of conversion— how their religious debates and political opinions affected their literary choices. What does early Islamic historiography reveal about conversion to Islam? Why did non-Muslims reportedly convert during Muhammad’s life and under his immediate successors? How did Muslim historians portray these conversions? Why did their portrayals differ significantly? To what extent were their portrayals influenced by their time of writing, religious inclinations, and political affiliations? These are the fundamental questions that drive this study. While a number of modern scholars have examined various aspects of conversion, they relied largely on non-historiographical sources (legal, papyri, dictionaries, geographies, and belles-lettres). They rarely addressed the semiotic meanings of conversion to Islam, or what the phenomenon meant to those who portrayed it. Some even dismissed historiographical sources as irrelevant. In disagreement with this trend, my unique contribution lay in Conversion to Islam. Ayman S. Ibrahim, Oxford University Press (2021). © Oxford University Press. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780197530719.003.0005
232 Conversion to Islam tracing conversion through early Islamic historiography and analyzing the interplay between history and historiography. Relying on a vast number of classical Muslim historical accounts, I demonstrated how—from the earliest extant Muslim writings—narrators were eager not only to emphasize conversion but also to employ it as a literary topic, to stress the community’s sense of identity, and to advance specific sectarian and political views, including principles of social hierarchy and affiliation and the primacy of political institutions. Conversion stories were an essential part of a broader set of cherished and circulated traditions, through which Muslims addressed questions related to varying communal agendas: Who was the earliest to convert to Islam, and why was that significant? What made Islam appealing to ahl al-kitāb and led them to convert? In what ways was Islam superior to previous revelations, and how was this claim proven? Why was Muhammad the greatest and last prophet, and how did his message convince various social groups, such as notables, slaves, and women? The answers to these questions have both united and divided the Muslim community. They facilitated notions of Islam’s hegemony, identified its prominent leaders, assisted in elucidating the prophetic messages, and highlighted a social hierarchy within a highly sectarian Muslim community. These answers reflected different sectarian views and sociopolitical orientations. On the one hand, Muslim historians served and wrote as religious scholars. They unified their efforts to present the faith, its messenger, and its message in ways which would advance religious claims of hegemony, especially when portraying conversion to a non-Muslim audience. On the other hand, when aspects of conversion were crucial to religious and political claims within the umma itself, historians were adamant about using conversion to stress their particular opinions. A few examples suffice to prove this point. Muslims believed it was important to identify those who were earliest and fastest to accept Islam. Early conversion signified religious devotion and indicated readiness to support Muhammad during the early Meccan period, when the believers endured persecution and discrimination. Early conversion thus represented piety, valor, and dedication, and was a major factor for later political legitimacy after Muhammad’s death. This is evident in the controversy among Muslim historians regarding whether ᶜAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib or Abū Bakr was the earliest to convert. Pro-ᶜAlid historians have repeatedly established the legitimacy of ᶜAlī’s succession based on his early conversion, which proved his rigorous faith and unmatched piety.
Conclusion 233 Muslims were concerned not only with the earliest to convert but also with distinguishing between genuine and insincere conversions. They highlighted good deeds following sincere conversion, contrasted praiseworthy conversions with hypocritical ones, and noted how some individuals merely accepted Islam for material gain or as a sign of political submission in order to save their possessions or lives. They created labels to identify those who converted with questionable motives (ṭulaqā’) or after receiving material incentives from the Prophet (al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum). Moreover, Muslim historians utilized conversion narratives to prove Muhammad’s prophethood and the inimitability of the Qur’ān: If Muhammad was able to persuade non-Muslims, and if he could perform miracles and know the unknown, he was indeed a prophet of Allah. If the recitation of the Qur’ān moved the hearts of pagans and turned them to Islam, then Muhammad’s message must be divinely inspired. Furthermore, Muslim historians were concerned with narratives of Jews and Christians converting to Islam: When a Christian monk converted to Islam after encountering Muhammad, or when a Jewish rabbi accepted Islam after discovering Muhammad’s name in scriptures, this indicated not only how Islam surpassed and replaced earlier revelations but also how Muhammad was the greatest and final prophet. In each of these narrative examples, conversion to Islam serves as a literary tool, allaying concerns among Muslims and presenting a persuasive case for Islam to non-Muslims. In my estimation, these conversion narratives do not necessarily describe actual cases. Rather, they are representations of what classical Muslim historians, at best, believed to have occurred or, at worst, what they deliberately sought to convey to their audience. This is my approach to Islamic historiography, which is developed in such a skeptical way due to the textual shortcomings of Muslim sources: discrepancies, obscurities, and obvious contradictions. Even al-Ṭabarī (d. 310/923) bemoans the many inconsistencies present in the available reports of his day. I believe that these conversion narratives reflect the time of writing and the historian’s worldviews more than they reflect Islam’s origins, especially once we consider that these accounts were produced centuries after the events they describe. We know from the Muslim sources that al-Zuhrī (d. 124/742) complained of pressure from the Umayyad rulers to fabricate reports, and Ibn Khaldūn (d. 808/1406) described the complex relationship between the ruler’s sword and the historian’s pen. It is impossible to ignore the substantial influence of political and religious affiliations on historical depictions. I view Islamic
234 Conversion to Islam historiography—including its conversion narratives—as a tool devised to form the historical memory of the faithful rather than as a precise sketch of the past. Therefore, these conversions are more accurately viewed as reflections of the interaction between the historian’s agenda and the vibrant political and sectarian contexts at the time of writing. At root, here is the first major argument of this investigation: Within the ample reports of conversion present in Muslim historiography, there are many detectable themes, i.e., reoccurring patterns or forms, which advance specific descriptions of conversion. These descriptions indicate the centrality of conversion as a literary topic among early Muslims, and reflect its importance in religious debates. The themes are literary devices utilized by historians to address matters of interest to their audience. They are detected due to their reappearance in various accounts. When different—and sometimes competing—historians use the same literary device, we can deduce its importance to early Muslims. Conversion themes promote a historian’s biases and inclinations, thus reflecting his immediate context and worldview. By examining a vast number of primary sources and relying on secondary studies (particularly those of Albrecht Noth and Fred Donner), I identified various conversion themes in Islamic historiography. The theme of the awā’il (firsts) to accept Islam reflects religious fervor and piety and assumes honor and high status in the umma. This theme is repeatedly present in arguments for the succession of Muhammad. Pro-ᶜAlid historians—such as Sulaym ibn Qays (d. 76/695), Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim (d. 212/ 827), and Ibn Wāḍiḥ al-Yaᶜqūbī (d. ca. 284/897)—elevated ᶜAlī repeatedly, insisting he was the first to convert and thus the most trusted in matters of faith and the most eligible to succeed the Prophet. Other historians, especially those who did not necessarily support such ᶜAlid claims, were satisfied with elevating Abū Bakr or Zayd as the first male convert. In addition to the awā’il theme, Muslim historians frequently described the wujahā’ (notables) converting to Islam. This demonstrates how the conversion of key individuals strengthened Islam, and indicates how Muhammad was able to persuade the tribal elites. Conversely, the theme of slaves accepting Islam, as well as women’s conversion, suggests that Islam successfully permeated various social layers of society—the newly revealed message captured the hearts of both notables and non-elites. These two themes are also echoed in the theme related to ahl al-kitāb accepting Islam, which depicts Muhammad’s message surpassing and replacing earlier revelations. This theme is often linked
Conclusion 235 to another, which highlights Muhammad’s qualities, message, and miracles drawing people to faith. Furthermore, Muslim historians developed the theme of insincere conversion, which appears in the conversion of the ṭulaqā’ and the mu’allafa qulūbuhum. The former accepted Islam on the day of the conquest of Mecca, when Muhammad victoriously entered the holy place and set them free after conversion; the latter negotiated conversion and did not embrace Islam until they received financial incentives from the Prophet. The themes of the ṭulaqā’ and the mu’allafa qulūbuhum appear repeatedly in historical writings, and often identify converts unfavorably, suggesting that their acceptance of Islam was questionable and due only to disingenuous religious convictions. In examining these themes, I argued that they reflect social, sectarian, and political concerns within the Muslim community. These concerns drove religious discussions and motivated political arguments, which propelled historians to include them in their works. I categorized them into four major topoi: significance, compromise, supremacy, and affirmation. While topoi of significance include positive themes (e.g., conversion of the awā’il, wujahā’, and ḥasun islāmuh) emphasizing commendable cases of conversion, topoi of compromise indicate the opposite and highlight instances of conversion for insincere reasons (e.g., al-ṭulaqā’, al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum, and reversion after conversion). While topoi of supremacy contain themes advancing Islam’s hegemony over other religions (e.g., conversion of ahl al-kitāb, Jews and Christians), topoi of affirmation focus primarily on claiming evidence of Muhammad’s prophethood and the superlative eloquence of the Qur’ān, affirming how the Prophet and his message were major tools which brought people to Islam (e.g., conversion after hearing the recitation of the Qur’ān, as a result of encountering Muhammad, or after reading his name in pre- Islamic scriptures). Moreover, I contended that these four conversion topoi have different target audiences: Topoi of significance and compromise appear to specifically address the Muslim community, by commending uniqueness in conversion and discouraging insincere conversion for questionable reasons, while topoi of supremacy and affirmation target non-Muslims in an attempt to convey the uniqueness of Islam, its messenger, and its message. These four conversion topoi describe my initial contention regarding Islamic historiography: Literary depictions are better viewed as reflections of the context of writing than as records of past incidents. Conversion topoi, I argue, reflect and promote the sectarian preferences and political inclinations of each historian. When compared and contrasted, these topoi
236 Conversion to Islam reveal how historians used literary reports to advance their competing views. For this reason, I always begin by investigating and identifying the biographical background of classical Muslim historians, examining their religious, cultural, and political contexts. In my analyses, I demonstrated, for instance, how Abū Sufyān’s conversion—that of a major Umayyad figure—is depicted differently in the accounts of pro-Umayyad al-Zuhrī (d. 124/741) and pro- ᶜAbbāsid Ibn Hishām (d. ca. 218/833). Pro-ᶜAlid Sulaym ibn Qays (d. 76/ 695) differs significantly from anti-Shīᶜite Sayf ibn ᶜUmar (d. 180/796) in the portrayal of ᶜAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib’s conversion. Similarly, the conversion narrative of al-ᶜAbbās ibn ᶜAbd al-Muṭṭalib—the ancestor of the ᶜAbbāsid dynasty—diverges in several ways when we contrast Umayyad-era accounts with ᶜAbbāsid histories. Thus, it is my contention that historians’ depictions are influenced considerably by their time of writing (e.g., pre-ᶜAbbāsid or ᶜAbbāsid) and their religio-political inclination (e.g., pro-Umayyad, pro- ᶜAlid, or pro-ᶜAbbāsid). By situating the historiographical accounts within the historical context at the time of writing, I marry historiography to history, thus assessing the interplays between the text and its context. This study consisted of five chapters. In every chapter, I endeavored to remind the reader of the theoretical basis of the project, employed my method of tying history to historiography, and explained my approach to the sources under scrutiny. While each chapter differed in its scope and examination, all focused on the principal inquiry: conversion depictions found in early Islamic historiography, and how they reflect and promote the historians’ ideologies and agendas rather than recording past incidents. My analyses of a vast number of historiographical accounts from the first three centuries of Islam prove that the religious views and sociopolitical contexts of Muslim historians influenced their descriptions of conversion. In Chapter 1, I introduced the topic of investigation by explaining the research problem and the state of the art. I showed how some modern scholars believe that classical Muslim sources include scarce information on conversion and consider them the wrong sources for studying the phenomenon. Consequently, these scholars rely on non- historiographical materials: Richard Bulliet on medieval biographic dictionaries; Gladys Frantz-Murphy on Greek, Coptic, and Arabic papyri; Tamer el-Leithy on Mamlūk historical documents; Uriel Simonsohn on legal sources; and Sarah Savant on biographical dictionaries, geographies, and belles-lettres. These scholars, among others, distanced themselves from Muslim historiography for different reasons, including the sources’ religious and political
Conclusion 237 agendas. I acknowledged that drawing straightforward links between historiographical reports and events which may have happened centuries earlier is problematic, especially in the absence of actual documentation. However, I emphasized the importance of studying conversion depictions in early Islamic historiographical accounts. I explained how, by analyzing a vast number of Arabic Muslim historical accounts, I found that historiography reveals a great deal about conversion. Historiography includes an abundance of significant references to conversion that describe it as an act of religious, political, and social transition in changing terms and contexts. Thus, in the introductory chapter, I laid the theoretical basis of my investigation. I stated my focus on examining conversion in early Muslim historiography. I explained my methodology of marrying history and historiography by tracing the interplay between historical phenomena and historiographical depictions; I investigate external evidence, then apply internal criticism. I also stated the demarcations of the study. Finally, I listed the conversion themes I detected, laid out the major arguments of the investigation, and explained the research plan and the outline of the book. In Chapter 2, I focused on the Umayyad period (ca. 41/661–132/750). I began by engaging modern scholarly arguments and discussing how Islamic historiography existed under the Umayyads but became a victim of consecutive strategies of oblivion under the ᶜAbbāsids. I identified available sources attributed to Umayyad-era historians Sulaym ibn Qays (d. 76/ 695), Ibn Shihāb al-Zuhrī (d. 124/741), and Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba (d. ca. 135/ 752). I devoted an entire section to explaining various scholarly concerns regarding these sources’ authenticity and reliability, as I engaged studies by Mohammad Amir-Moezzi, Hossein Modarressi, Suhayl Zakkār, and Sean Anthony, among others. Relying on valuable studies such as those of Fred Donner, I argued for specific values for these sources: Since my investigation is concerned with scrutinizing literary themes, it does not matter whether these themes are gathered from a bound monograph or a collection of reports. In the end, we investigated reoccurring themes, and their precursors appeared initially in these sources. Although I indicated my skepticism of the sources, I emphasized the value of these Umayyad-era writers, especially considering the fact that the majority of sources we now possess originated under the ᶜAbbāsids, which rivaled the Umayyads. I described the significance of the competing views of, for instance, Sulaym ibn Qays and al-Zuhrī; the former is pro-ᶜAlid and the latter pro-Umayyad. By comparing and contrasting their views on conversion, I was able to establish the major
238 Conversion to Islam thrust of this investigation: The sectarian inclination of each author affects his depictions. Additionally, by contrasting these Umayyad-era depictions with ᶜAbbāsid portrayals, I showed how political contexts during the time of writing influenced literary manifestations. After explaining my approach to these Umayyad-era sources, i.e., examining external evidence, I focused on internal criticism by tracing every mention of conversion in these sources and identifying detectable conversion themes. In specific cases, such as that of Abū Sufyān’s conversion, I highlighted how the narrative was later redesigned in ᶜAbbāsid-era sources in order to meet the political requirements of the new dynasty. Moreover, by comparing al-Zuhrī’s pro-Umayyad depictions to Sulaym’s anti-Umayyad portrayals of Imam ᶜAlī, I provided my major argument of the chapter: Since the genesis of historical writing among Muslims, historians have not only emphasized conversion in various literary forms but also used the topic itself to confirm their religious views and promote their political agendas. There was a particular observation to make regarding the Umayyad-era conversion depictions. While comparing conversion themes in the period under study, I noticed that some occurred more often than others; there is an apparent imbalance in the number of themes. In particular, while themes of Jews and Christians converting to Islam exist in Umayyad-era reports, they are less frequent when compared to ᶜAbbāsid-era sources. We encountered topoi of significance more often than those of supremacy and affirmation. This, in fact, proved to be a major argument of this investigation: Literary themes reflect the sociopolitical necessities and religious requirements at the time of writing rather than the historical events themselves. If historians were more concerned with political and religious debates among the Muslims, they would emphasize conversion topoi of significance in order to address the requirements of the Muslim community, rather than underlining themes which target non-Muslims by advancing claims of Islam’s superiority (topoi of supremacy and affirmation). I explained that, in the early period under the Umayyads, conversion to Islam occurred at a slow rate. Muslims were not necessarily concerned with providing proof of Islam’s superiority to the conquered people. It was a time of expansion and formation: expansion of an empire and formation of religious identity. Muslims did not yet have a sharp religious identity—Islam was still being formed. Historians were more concerned with political and religious debates among the Muslims themselves. I highlighted how conversion stories did not emerge randomly; they sought to legitimize and emphasize matters of interest to the authors and their
Conclusion 239 audiences. Despite the fact that the Umayyad-era reports are scarce, those that exist suggest that Muslim historians were keen to emphasize relevant conversion themes for their day, particularly the various pro-Umayyad or pro-ᶜAlid dispositions. In short, Umayyad-era writers did not primarily seek to address Jews and Christians regarding Islam’s supremacy. Muslims did not need to advance claims of Islam’s hegemony until later periods. In Chapter 3, I turned my attention to the early ᶜAbbāsid period (133/ 750–218/833), identifying it as the pre-miḥna era—a crucial time during which efforts were made to establish the pro-ᶜAbbāsid orthodoxy. I stated the reasoning behind my choice of the miḥna as a demarcation: I needed to establish a reference point in order to contrast pre-and post-miḥna historiographical depictions (which would be finalized in the following chapter). Relying on various scholarly studies, I demonstrated how many treat the pre-miḥna ᶜAbbāsid era as decisive in enforcing ᶜAbbāsid claims of legitimacy (pro-ᶜAbbāsid orthodoxy); it was a period of significant growth in historical and traditional writings. In their pursuit of political power, the ᶜAbbāsid caliphs sought to control the past by creating a memory saturated by pro-ᶜAbbāsid traditions. Relying on classical Muslim sources, I explained the strong ties between the caliphs and the historians of this period. We witnessed how Sayf ibn ᶜUmar (d. 180/796) served under Hārūn al-Rashīd (r. 170/786–193/809), and how al-Manṣūr (r. 136/754– 158/775) commissioned Ibn Isḥāq (d. 151/761) to write Muhammad’s Sīra. We learned that al-Wāqidī (d. ca. 207/823) received financial compensation from the Caliph Hārūn al-Rashīd, moved to Baghdad to make a living under the caliphal patronage, and was highly trusted by al-Ma’mūn (r. 198/ 813–218/833), who appointed him the qāḍī (judge) of Baghdad. We also discovered that Hishām Ibn al-Kalbī (d. 204/819) and his father lived in the court of al-Ma’mūn, and that both may have gained al-Mahdī’s (r. 158/ 775–169/786) favor. As for Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam al-Miṣrī (d. 214/829), he was reportedly close to the circle of influence in the Muslim court in Egypt, precisely the governor and the chief judge of Egypt. These examples led us to deduce that early ᶜAbbāsid-era historians not only operated under the caliphs’ patronage but also served the overall goals of the caliphate. I argued that the relationship between the sword and the pen (to borrow the terms of Ibn Khaldūn) was significant in creating traditions which served the ᶜAbbāsid claims. This will prove crucial to the enforcement of the miḥna (inquisition) by the caliph—by the end of this period—in order to secure political influence by maintaining his religious authority.
240 Conversion to Islam Not only did we trace the political influence on the early ᶜAbbāsid-era historians, but we also identified their various religious inclinations. While the majority served pro-ᶜAbbāsid goals, they differed in their sectarian views. We discussed the pro-ᶜAlid tendencies attributed to Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim (d. 212/827) and Hishām Ibn al-Kalbī (d. 204/819), as well as the strong anti- Shīᶜite inclinations of Sayf ibn ᶜUmar (d. 180/796). We explained how al- Wāqidī is considered a Shīᶜite by some classical Muslim figures, and Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam al-Miṣrī (d. 214/829) was the chief of the Mālikīs in Egypt. After examining the religious backgrounds and political inclinations of the historians during the period under scrutiny, I proposed that their conversion depictions should be analyzed against their religio-political backdrops. In the next section of the third chapter, I sought to accomplish a principal goal of the chapter: tracing and analyzing conversion depictions in extant historical sources written before the enforcement of the miḥna in 218/ 833. Not only did I demonstrate the reoccurrence of conversion themes, but I analyzed them against the backdrop of each historian’s sectarian inclinations and political orientations. I established how historians tweaked the themes to suit their agendas. The example of Sayf Ibn ᶜUmar was worth noting. While historians repeatedly use the theme of ahl al-kitāb (Jews and Christians) converting to Islam to establish Islam’s hegemony and superiority, Sayf employed it with different goals: a polemic literary rhetoric against Jews and the shīᶜa of ᶜAlī, particularly the pro-ᶜAlid earliest sect in Islam, the Saba’iyya. The same theme, I demonstrated, was employed differently to serve different agendas by various historians. Therefore, in one case, the theme of ahl al-kitāb converting to Islam fits within topoi of supremacy (elevating Islam above other revelations), while in another, it suits topoi of compromise (insincere conversion). Additionally, I showed how pro-ᶜAbbāsid historians portrayed the conversions of major Umayyad figures (e.g., Abū Sufyān) unfavorably, as I contrasted ᶜAbbāsid (e.g., accounts of Ibn Hishām) with Umayyad (e.g., al-Zuhrī) accounts, emphasizing the addition of humiliating literary features by ᶜAbbāsid-era historians to question the authenticity of the conversions of Umayyad notables, thus serving ᶜAbbāsid propaganda. In comparing pro-ᶜAlid historians to each other, I explained that, although Sulaym ibn Qays (d. 76/695) and Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim (d. 212/827) were both pro-ᶜAlid, they experienced different situations and promoted different agendas due to their different time periods. While both supported ᶜAlid claims for legitimacy, Naṣr appears more explicit in supporting āl al- bayt (the household of Muhammad). I proposed that Naṣr’s political and
Conclusion 241 religious views reflected his revolutionary actions against the ᶜAbbāsids, who attempted to disassociate themselves from the Shīᶜites, although the shīᶜa of āl al-bayt were reportedly vital in supporting the rise of the ᶜAbbāsids and the overthrow of the Umayyads. Furthermore, in comparing pro-ᶜAlid to anti-ᶜAlid historians, I showed how, for instance, Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim differs significantly from Ibn Hishām in his portrayal of the conversion of ᶜAlī. I explained why I view Ibn Isḥāq’s Sīrat rasūl Allāh as a product of Ibn Hishām and not of Ibn Isḥāq, especially considering the competing sectarian views of the two historians, their differing political periods, and the admitted censorship of the original text by Ibn Hishām. In Chapter 3, therefore, I contended that, not only do the earliest available sources from the ᶜAbbasid era indicate a strong relationship between the caliph and the historian, but this relationship also influenced historical portrayals of conversion, as evidenced in the redesigning and reinterpreting of conversion narratives. Muslim historians advanced interpretive choices in their conversion anecdotes in order to emphasize their personal opinions and promote their religious causes. Finally, I argued that these interpretive choices were not merely literary constructions but a clear reflection of sectarian debates and sociopolitical disputes. In Chapter 4, I focused on the post-miḥna period (218/833–299/911). One major historiographical question at the root of the inquiry related to caliphal involvement in Muslim religious matters and intellectual affairs: If the caliphs—as we repeatedly emphasized in Chapter 3—directly influenced various historians who operated under their patronage, did this caliphal control remain or change after the miḥna? In other words, did the caliphal influence on historical writing end after the failure of the miḥna (which essentially declared the victory of the ᶜulamā’ over the caliphs in religious matters)? These questions were foundational to my investigation of literary depictions of conversion, as my aim was not only to examine conversion topoi in historical sources but also to analyze how the post-miḥna religio-political atmosphere influenced literary forms. To answer these questions, I investigated the major scholarly debates surrounding the reasons for enforcing the miḥna. I highlighted two major arguments: that the miḥna was either an anomaly within a relationship of cooperation between the caliphs and the religious scholars or a culmination of growing tensions regarding religious authority. In response to these arguments, relying on primary sources, I contended that the miḥna reflected a tension which led to cooperation. I explained that its enforcement was an
242 Conversion to Islam effort to stress the caliphal authority over religious matters, while its failure not only declared the victory of the scholars but also required them to offer attempts at compromise. These attempts, I argued, influenced post-miḥna historical writing, as I demonstrated in following sections in the chapter. In order to examine the influence of the miḥna on historical writing, I began by investigating the available biographical data for the Muslim historians who wrote during the period under study. My goal was to investigate what primary sources and secondary studies reveal about the historians’ religio-political views. We encountered the Muᶜtazilite Ibn Saᶜd (d. 230/844) and three anti-Muᶜtazilite historians: Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ (d. 240/854), ᶜUmar ibn Shabba (d. 262/875), and Ibn Qutayba (d. 276/889). We traced the growing number of Sunnī historians: Yaḥyā ibn Maᶜīn (d. 233/847), Muṣᶜab al-Zubayrī (d. 236/851), Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam (d. 257/ 871), Abū Zurᶜa (d. 281/894), and Yaᶜqūb ibn Sufyān al-Fasawī (d. 277/890). We also identified two openly Shīᶜite historians, Abū Ḥanīfa al-Dīnawarī (d. ca. 282/895) and al-Yaᶜqūbī (d. ca. 284/897), as well as Ibn Ḥabīb al- Baghdādī (d. 245/895), who was accused of Shīᶜism. We also encountered historians who served under the ᶜAbbasids yet voiced pro-Umayyad sympathies: Muṣᶜab al-Zubayrī (d. 236/851), Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ (d. 240/ 854), al-Balādhurī (d. ca. 279/892), and Ibn Abī Khaythama (d. 279/892). We detected possible ties between some post-miḥna historians and the caliphs: Ibn Qutayba was favored by al-Mutawakkil, while al-Balādhurī joined the palace of al-Ma’mūn and organized praise poetry for him, and was known as a drinking peer of al-Mutawakkil and a sitting companion of al-Mustaᶜīn. Understanding the religious backgrounds and political views of these historians, I argued, was crucial to analyzing their literary choices, because their contexts influenced their texts. Although there were still noticeable connections between some historians (e.g., Ibn Qutayba and al-Balādhurī) and caliphs, the failure of the miḥna granted the scholars more space to operate independently, terminating a period in which the caliphs served as sole arbiters in religious matters. Arguably, the caliphs not only relinquished their dominion over religious matters but also gradually declined in maintaining their political authority (e.g., Turkish praetorians’ influence, Umayyads in al- Andalus, Ṭāhirids in Persia). Against the backdrop of this examination, I noticed not only the rising number of ᶜAbbāsid-era historians and their growing independence from the caliphal court, but also the increasing number of competing voices in historical
Conclusion 243 writings: pro-ᶜAbbāsid, pro-Umayyad, pro-ᶜAlid, various Sunnī schools, as well as pro-and anti-Muᶜtazilite. I deduced that, since the fight for religious authority was won by religious scholars, more trends emerged in historiography, reflecting sectarian and political debates. This does not mean that the religious scholars were totally unchallenged. Muᶜtazilism had already confronted and, to a large extent, challenged them, by both questioning traditionalism and providing alternative reasoning. This appeared in the example of al-Shāfiᶜī (d. 204/820). In response to Muᶜtazilism, he criticized weak traditions and was among the earliest scholars to respond decisively to Muᶜtazilites’ attacks against tradition, by insisting on supporting reports with the strongest isnād (chain of informants). His pupil, Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal, who led the fight against the miḥna a generation later, continued what al-Shāfiᶜī started. While the efforts of these two scholars were not always flawless (as forged traditions continued to circulate), it appears that Muᶜtazilism forced them, and other scholars, to accept criticism and seek improved methods in dealing with traditions. Consequently, scholars were obliged to redesign various traditions. This, as Erling Petersen and Franz Rosenthal noted, demanded attempts at compromise in historical writing and resulted in the creation of harmonizing accounts and a series of syntheses that adjusted earlier accounts. These attempts at compromise, I argued, appear in post-miḥna historical writings in the evolving depictions of religio-politically controversial figures converting to Islam and in pro-Umayyad voices permeating ᶜAbbāsid-era historiography. To prove this two-part argument, I turned my attention to literary topoi of conversion. I devoted the final two sections in the fourth chapter to tracing and analyzing numerous conversion references. I emphasized the existence of the proposed conversion themes and how they reflected the religious and political preferences of each historian. I explained how the Shīᶜite historian al-Yaᶜqūbī (d. 284/897) insisted that the first to convert was ᶜAlī—not Abū Bakr—in sharp disagreement with the earlier Sunnī historian Yaḥyā ibn Maᶜīn (d. 233/847), who adamantly placed Abū Bakr as the first. Anti-Umayyad Ibn Saᶜd negatively identified Umayyad figures—Abū Sufyān and his two sons, Yazīd and Muᶜāwiya—among al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum, portraying them as weak Muslims who received incentives to convert to Islam. Anti-Shīᶜite and pro-Umayyad genealogist Muṣᶜab al-Zubayrī (d. 236/ 851) sought to embellish the image of Muᶜāwiya by creating an unmatched account in which Muᶜāwiya converted two years before the conquest of Mecca, disputing he was from the mu’allafa. These are merely a sample of
244 Conversion to Islam numerous conversion references demonstrating how historians’ religious and political agendas drove their depictions. Furthermore, while comparing conversion themes in this period, it was noticeable that topoi of supremacy and affirmation—which aim to prove Islam’s supremacy and Muhammad’s qualities to non-Muslims—increased significantly in number. This reflects the increasing need among Muslims to present a compelling case for Islam and Muhammad among non-Muslims— particularly Christians and Jews—in the empire, especially as we consider how Jewish-Christian-Muslim debates multiplied in the period under scrutiny as compared to the Umayyad period. We encountered repeated reports of Jews and Christians confirming Muhammad’s prophethood; we saw Jews and Christians converted after seeing Muhammad’s name in the Torah; some considered Christianity or Judaism, yet later converted to Islam once they met Muhammad; a Christian converted after hearing Muhammad’s words; some converted after Muhammad performed miracles or ritual prayers before them. These depictions suggest, once again, that literary themes reflect the religious and sociopolitical necessities at the time of writing. In the third/ ninth century, historians sought to advance claims of Islam’s superiority to respond to contemporary debates with non-Muslims. I endeavored in the final section of the chapter to demonstrate how attempts at compromise often appear in post-miḥna conversion literary depictions. I argued that we could trace not only evolving portrayals of the conversion of key Muslim controversial leaders but also pro-Umayyad literary features permeating ᶜAbbāsid-era narratives. To prove my points, I focused on the conversion depictions of three key (and controversial) religio-political figures: al-ᶜAbbās ibn ᶜAbd al-Muṭṭalib, Muᶜāwiya ibn Abī Sufyān, and ᶜAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib. I began by stating their importance for the pro-ᶜAbbāsid, pro-Umayyad, and pro-ᶜAlid claims of legitimacy, respectively. I then analyzed how their conversion portrayals changed over time, as I compared post-miḥna accounts to earlier narratives (Umayyad and early ᶜAbbāsid). In the case of al-ᶜAbbās’s conversion portrayal, I emphasized how the narrative evolved over time in order to enhance his image as the ᶜAbbāsid progenitor. While Umayyad-era reports portray him negatively—as a late convert who was still a pagan fighting against Muslims at Badr, who was humiliated and taken captive—ᶜAbbāsid-era historians sought to embellish the narrative by claiming him as an early convert who was serving Muhammad as a spy at Badr. Moreover, by comparing and contrasting accounts written by
Conclusion 245 ᶜAbbāsid-era historians, I demonstrated how early historians (pre-miḥna) merely developed an excuse for al-ᶜAbbās’s late conversion to portray him positively, while later historians (post-miḥna) worked diligently to complement al-ᶜAbbās’s depiction by reconciling earlier accounts. I highlighted how some Sunnī historians operated within a pro-ᶜAbbāsid paradigm to improve al-ᶜAbbās’s image. However, I also noted the presence of competing voices against the common trend of embellishing al-ᶜAbbās’s narrative in the post-miḥna era, as evidenced in al-Yaᶜqūbī’s account, which states that al-ᶜAbbās did not convert until the day of the battle of Badr, and only to prevent his capture as a prisoner of war. Al-Yaᶜqūbī’s account serves ᶜAlid and Shīᶜite claims. I then argued that the development of al-ᶜAbbās’s narrative under the ᶜAbbāsids reflects attempts at compromise in historiography, which are displayed in efforts to create reconciling trends by magnifying or repressing literary features. In addition to examining al-ᶜAbbās’s conversion narratives, I also analyzed those of the first Umayyad caliph, Muᶜāwiya ibn Abī Sufyān (d. 61/ 680), and those of ᶜAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib (d. 40/661). In the case of Muᶜāwiya, I demonstrated that the attempts at compromise were evident in various pro- Umayyad trends which balanced commonly anti-Umayyad inclinations in ᶜAbbāsid-era writings. We encountered historians who established an early conversion date for Muᶜāwiya and denied he was from among the ṭulaqā’ and al-mu’allafa qulūbuhum. In the case of ᶜAlī, I described how historians began to suggest that he and Abū Bakr were both the earliest to convert, while others—who were not known as pro-ᶜAlid—acknowledged ᶜAlī as the first male convert. Extreme opinions were somewhat diluted and new moderate views emphasized, as reconciliatory and harmonizing efforts were at play. I indicated that extreme views did not completely vanish, but rather that there was a growing recognition among historiographers of the need to reshape extreme narratives from previous generations. My overall conclusion was that the aftermath of the miḥna propelled historians to accept attempts at compromise in historical writing. These attempts were successful not only in advancing reconciling conversion depictions by elevating moderate views and suppressing radical claims, but also through allowing pro-Umayyad voices to permeate ᶜAbbāsid traditions. Here in Chapter 5, I conclude the study by summarizing the findings and reiterating the major arguments. My investigation presents another proof for the modern scholarly contention that classical Muslim historians did not necessarily aim to record the past. Rather, they represented what they
246 Conversion to Islam thought to have occurred, or what they desired their audience to believe about the past. This is evident in the tendentiousness of historical accounts— particularly, in our investigation, in conversion narratives—and how they reflect the sectarian and political views of each historian. Discrepancies and contradictions are glaring. Classical Muslim historians relied on a shared pool of memory, but utilized it selectively and manipulated the records to promote their views. Their historiographical accounts do not record the past, but instead reveal the cultural, religious, and political climate at the time they were written. The conversion themes analyzed in this study suggest that Muslims were concerned with ways to depict the acceptance of Islam. Through historiographical accounts, historians presented varying notions of conversion and repeated literary forms for the purpose of emphasizing specific aspects of conversion. Conversion held different meanings for different people and was reportedly achieved in various ways. The large number of themes we detected, and the varying scopes they cover, not only indicate the centrality of conversion as a topic among Muslims but also reflect its importance in religious debates—both within the Muslim community and with non-Muslims. Classical Muslim historians served as religious writers. They wanted to emphasize Allah at work in the Muslim community, and to display the unique qualities of Muhammad and his message, the Qur’ān. They utilized conversion themes to address both non-Muslims and Muslims, highlighting Islam’s supremacy and Muhammad’s uniqueness to the former and commending authenticity of faith to the latter. Because literary themes respond to the sociopolitical necessities and religious requirements at the time of writing, Muslim historians were more concerned with some themes over others during different periods. In sum, conversion topoi and their subsequent themes not only reflect sectarian concerns and political debates among Muslims but also emphasize the religious and sociopolitical agendas of the historians, highlighting how they use narratives to advance their competing opinions.
10
Primary Source Authors in Chronological Order
Sulaym Ibn Qays (d. 76/695) Mujāhid ibn Jabr (d. ca. 104/722) Ibn Shihāb al-Zuhrī (d. 124/741) Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba (d. ca. 141/758) Ibn Isḥāq (d. 150/767) Muqātil ibn Sulaymān (d. 150/767) Abū Mikhnaf (d. 157/774) Sayf Ibn ᶜUmar (d. ca. 180/796) Abū Isḥāq al-Fazārī (d. after 185/802) Mālik ibn Anas (d. 197/795) Yaḥyā ibn Ādam al-Qurashī (d. 203/818) Hishām Ibn al-Kalbī (d. 204/819) Imam al-Shāfiᶜī (d. 205/820) Muḥammad ibn ᶜUmar al-Wāqidī (d. ca. 207/823) ᶜAbd al-Razzāq al-Ṣanᶜānī (d. 211/744) Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim (d. 212/827) Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam al-Miṣrī (d. 214/829) ᶜAbd al-Malik ibn Hishām (d. ca. 218/833) Abā ᶜUbayd al-Qāsim ibn Sallām (d. 224/837) Ibn Saᶜd (d. 230/844) Ibn Sallām al-Jumaḥī (d. 231/845) Ibn Mūsā al-Khawārizmī (d. 232/847) Yaḥyā ibn Maᶜīn (d. 233/847) Muṣᶜab ibn ᶜAbdullāh al-Zubayrī (d. 236/851) Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ (d. 240/854) Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal (d. 241/855) Ibn Ḥabīb al-Baghdādī (d. 245/860) Ḥamīd ibn Zanjawayh (d. 251/865) Abū ᶜUthmān al-Jāḥiẓ (d. 255/869) ᶜAbd al-Raḥmān al-Dārimī (d. 255/869)
248 Primary Source Authors in Chronological Order Abū ᶜUmar ibn Yūsuf al-Kindī (d. 255/870) Zubayr ibn Bakkār (d. 256/870) Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam (d. 257/871) Abū Isḥāq al-Jūzjānī (d. 259/873) Muḥammad al-Faḍl ibn Shādhān (d. 260/874) Abū al-Ḥasan al-ᶜIjlī (d. 261/875) ᶜUmar ibn Shabba (d. 262/875) ᶜAbd al-Raḥmān al-Barqī (d. ca. 274/888) Ibn Qutayba al-Dīnawarī (d. 276/889) Yaᶜqūb ibn Sufyān al-Fasawī (d. 277/890) Ibn Abī Khaythama (d. 279/892) Aḥmad ibn Yaḥyā al-Balādhurī (d. ca. 279/892) Abū Zurᶜa al-Dimashqī (d. 281/894) Abū Ḥanīfa Dīnawarī (d. ca. 282/895) Ibn Hilāl al-Thaqafī (d. 283/896) Ibn Wāḍiḥ al-Yaᶜqūbī (d. ca. 284/897) Ibn al-Faqīh al-Hamadhānī (d. ca. 290/903) ᶜAbdullāh ibn al-Muᶜtazz (d. 296/908) Ibn Khuradādhbih (d. ca. 299/912) Muḥammad ibn Khalaf Wakīᶜ (d. 306/918) Abū Jaᶜfar al-Ṭabarī (d. 310/923) Abū Bakr al-Rāzī (d. ca. 311/925) Abū al-Qāsim al-Balkhī (d. 319/931) Abū Jaᶜfar al-ᶜUqaylī (d. 322/934) Ibn Abī Ḥātim al-Rāzī (d. 327/938) Ibn ᶜAbd Rabbih (d. 328/940) al-Shaykh al-Kulaynī (d. 329/941) Abū al-Ḥasan al-Masᶜūdī (d. 345/956) ᶜAbd al-Raḥmān ibn Yūnus al-Miṣrī (d. 347/958) Ibn al-Faqīh (d. 4th/10th century) Abū Isḥāq al-Iṣṭakhrī al-Balkhī (d. 350/961) Maᶜmar ibn Rāshid (d. 350/961) Ibn Qāniᶜ (d. 351/962) Ibn Ḥibbān (d. 354/965) Muṭahhar ibn Ṭāhir al-Maqdisī (d. ca. 355/966) Abū al-Faraj al-Isfahānī (d. 356/967) Ibn ᶜAdī al-Jurjānī (d. 365/976) al-Ḥākim al-Kabīr al-Karābīsī (d. 378/988)
Primary Source Authors in Chronological Order 249 al-Shaykh al-Ṣadūq (d. 381/991) Al-Muḥsin Al-Tanūkhī (d. 384/994) Abū al-Ḥasan al-Dāraquṭnī (d. 385/995) Ibn al-Nadīm (d. ca. 385/995) Ibn Shāhīn (d. 385/995) Ibn Manda (d. 395/ 1005) Ibn al-Faraḍī (d. 403/1011) al-Sharīf al-Raḍī (d. 406/1015) Al-Shaykh al-Mufīd (d. 413/1022) ᶜAbd al-Jabbār al-Hamadhānī (d. 415/1025) Abū Isḥāq ibn Ibrāhīm al-Thaᶜlabī (d. 427/1035) Abū Nuᶜaym al-Iṣfahānī (d. 430/1038) Abū Yaᶜlā al-Khalīlī al-Qazwīnī (d. 446/1054) Aḥmad ibn Ḥusayn Ibn al-Ghaḍā’irī (d. before 450/1058) Abū al-ᶜAbbās al-Najāshī (d. 450/1058) al-Māwardī (d. 450/1058) Ibn Ḥazm (d. 456/1064) Abū Bakr al-Bayhaqī (d. 458/1066) Abū Jaᶜfar al-Ṭūsī (d. 460/ 1068) Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr (d. 463/1071) Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī (d. 463/1071) Abū al-Ḥasan al-Wāḥidī (d. 468/1076) Abū al-Walīd al-Bājī (d. 474/1081) Abū Isḥāq al-Shīrāzī (d. 476/1083) Abū Ismāᶜīl al-Harawī (d. 481/1089) al-Ḥākim al-Jushamī (d. 494/1100) Abū Ḥāmid al-Ghazālī (d. 505/1111) Ibn Abī Yaᶜlā (d. 526/1131) Abū al-Qāsim al-Zamakhsharī (d. 538/1144) Abū al-Fatḥ al-Shahrastānī (d. 548/1153) Ibn al-Ḥasan al-Ṭabarsī (d. 548/1153) Abū al-Ḥusayn al-ᶜImrānī (d. 558/1162) ᶜAbd al-Karīm al-Samᶜānī (d. 563/1167) Ibn ᶜAsākir (d. 571/1176) Ibn Khayr al-Ishbīlī (d. 575/1179) Kamāl al-Dīn al-Anbārī (d. 577/1181) ᶜUthmān Ibn al-Ṣalāḥ (d. 577/1181) ᶜAbd al-Raḥmān al-Suhaylī (d. 581/1185)
250 Primary Source Authors in Chronological Order Ibn al-Jawzī (d. 597/1201) Ibn Qudāma al-Maqdisī (d. 620/1223) Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī (d. 627/1229) Abū al-Ḥasan Ibn al-Athīr (d. 630/1233) Sulaymān ibn Mūsā al-Kalāᶜī (d. 634/1237) Abū ᶜAbdullāh al-Qurṭubī (d. 671/1273) Abū Zakariyyā al-Nawawī (d. 676/1277) Ibn Khallikān (d. 681/1282) ᶜAbdullāh al-Bayḍāwī (d. 685/1286) Muḥib al-Dīn al-Ṭabarī (d. 694/1295) Ibn Manẓūr (d. 710/1311) Ibn al-Muṭahhar al-Ḥillī (d. 726/1325) Ibn Taymiyya (d. 728/1328) Yūsuf ibn ᶜAbd al-Raḥmān al-Mizzī (d. 743/1341) Shams al-Dīn al-Dhahabī (d. 748/1348) Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyya (d. 751/1350) Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn al-Ṣafadī (d. 764/1363) Ibn Khaldūn (d. 808/1406) Majd al-Dīn al-Fīrūzābādī (d. 818/1415) Aḥmad ibn Yaḥyā Ibn al-Murtaḍā (d. 839/1436) Taqī al-Dīn al-Maqrīzī (d. 845/1442) Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī (d. 852/1448) Ibn Taghrī Birdī (d. 874/1470) Jalāl al-Dīn al-Suyūṭī (d. 911/1505) Muḥammad Shams al-Dīn al-Dāwūdī (d. 945/1538) ᶜAlī ibn Burhān al-Dīn al-Ḥalabī (d. 1044/1635) Ibn al-ᶜImād al-Ḥanbalī (d. 1089/1679)
Modern and Contemporary Arabic-Speaking Authors That Appear in the Study 1
(A full name is followed by birth-death years, when available, and birthplace) Muḥammad Bāqir al-Majlisī (1628–1699), Persia Muḥammad Mahdī Baḥr al-ᶜUlūm (1742–1797), Iraq Ḥusayn Aḥmad al-Burāqī (1845–1914), Iraq Rashīd Riḍā (1865–1935), Lebanon Jūrjī Zaydān (1861–1914), Lebanon ᶜAbd al-Wahhāb al-Najjār (1862–1941), Egypt al-Sayyid Muḥsin al-Amīn (1867–1952), Lebanon Muḥammad al-Khuḍarī (1872–1927), Egypt Maᶜrūf al-Ruṣāfī (1875–1945), Iraq Aḥmad Farīd Rifāᶜī (1880s–1956), Egypt Aḥmad Amīn (1886–1954), Egypt ᶜAlī ᶜAbd al-Rāziq (1888–1966), Egypt ᶜAbbās Maḥmūd al-ᶜAqqād (1889–1964), Egypt Muḥammad Ḥussayn Haykal (1888–1956), Egypt Ṭāhā Ḥusayn (1889–1973), Egypt Maḥmūd Abū Rayya (1889–1970), Egypt Khayr al-Dīn al-Ziriklī (1893–1976), Lebanon ᶜAbd al-Ḥusayn Amīnī (1902–1970), Iran ᶜUmar Riḍā Kaḥḥāla (1905–1987), Syria Jawwād ᶜAlī (1907–1987), Iraq Shawqī Ḍayf (1910–2005), Egypt Ḥusayn Mu’nis (1911–1996), Egypt Mitwallī al-Shaᶜrāwī (1911–1998), Egypt ᶜAlī al-Wardī (1913–1995), Iraq ᶜĀ’isha ᶜAbd al-Raḥmān (1913–1998), Egypt
252 Modern and Contemporary Arabic-Speaking Authors Murtaḍā al-ᶜAskarī (1914–2007), Iraq ᶜAbd al-Raḥmān Badawī (1917–2002), Egypt ᶜAbd al-ᶜAzīz al-Dūrī (1919–2010), Iraq Shākir Muṣṭafā (1921–1997), Syria Fuat Sezgin (1924–), Turkey Aḥmad Ibrāhīm al-Sharīf (1926–), Egypt Ibn Ṣālih ibn al-ᶜUthaymīn (1929–2001), Saudi Arabia Jaᶜfar al-Subḥānī (1929–), Iran Khalīl ᶜAbd al-Karīm (1930–2002), Egypt Hādī al-ᶜAlawī (1933–1998), Iraq Muḥammad ᶜĀbid al-Jābrī (1935–2010), Morocco Hichem Djait (1935–), Tunisia Rajā’ī ᶜAṭiyya (1938–), Egypt ᶜAbd al-Hādī ᶜAbd al-Raḥmān (1930s–), Lebanon Abū Lubāba al-Ṭāhir Ḥusayn (1940–), Tunisia Fahmī Rājiḥ Jadᶜān (1940–), Jordan Fatima Mernissi (1940–2015), Morocco Shawqī Abū Khalīl (1941–2010), Palestine Firās al-Sawwāḥ (1941–), Syria Akram Ḍiyā’ al-ᶜUmarī (1942–), Iraq Naṣr Ḥāmid Abū Zayd (1943–2010), Egypt Yūsuf al-Ṣiddīq (1943–), Tunisia ᶜAlī al-Kūrānī al-ᶜĀmilī (1944–), Lebanon Iḥsān Ẓahīr (1945–1987), Pakistan ᶜAzīz al-ᶜAẓmah (1947–), Syria Sayyid Maḥmūd al-Qimanī (1947–), Egypt Zakariyyā Ūzūn (1940s–), Syria Fu’ād Ṣāliḥ al-Sayyid (1950–), Lebanon ᶜAbd al-Jawwād Yāsīn (1954–), Egypt ᶜAlī Muḥammad al-Ṣallābī (1963–), Libya Idrīs al-Ḥusaynī (1967–), Morocco Shiḥāta Muḥammad Ṣaqr (1969–), Egypt Rashīd Aylāl (1974–), Morocco Yāsir al-Ḥabīb (1979–), Kuwait Nājiya al-Wurayyimī (contemporary), Tunisia Nādir Ḥammāmī (contemporary), Tunisia Hela Ouardi (contemporary), Tunisia Mulḥim Shukr (contemporary), Lebanon
Modern and Contemporary Arabic-Speaking Authors 253 ᶜAwwād ibn ᶜAbdullāh al-Muᶜattiq (contemporary), Saudi Arabia ᶜAbd al-ᶜAzīz Nūr Walī (contemporary), Saudi Arabia Al-Sayyid al-Jamīlī (contemporary), Egypt Muḥammad ᶜAbd al-Ḥamīd al-Ḥamad (contemporary), Iraq Ḥusayn ᶜAṭwān (contemporary), Jordan Amjad Mamdūḥ al-Fāᶜūrī (contemporary), Jordan
Works Cited Primary Sources ᶜAbd al-Jabbār al-Hamadhānī. Tathbīt dalā’il al-nubuwwa. 2 vols. Cairo: Dār al-Muṣṭafā, n.d. ᶜAbd al-Razzāq al-Ṣanᶜānī. Muṣannaf. 11 vols. Edited by Ḥabīb al-Raḥmān al-Aᶜẓamī. India: al-majlis al-ᶜilmī, 1403/1983. Abū Mikhnaf. Kitāb Maqtal al-Ḥusayn. Edited by Mushtaq Kurji. Translated by Hamid Mavani. London: Shia Ithnasheri Community of Middlesex, 2002. Abū Zurᶜa al-Dimashqī. Ta’rīkh Abī Zurᶜa. Edited by Shukr Allāh al-Qujānī. Damascus: Mujammaᶜ al-lugha al-ᶜarabiyya, 1980. Anbārī, Kamāl al-Dīn al-. Nuzhat al-albā’ fī ṭabaqāt al-udabā’. Edited by Ibrāhīm al- Sāmirrā’ī. Jordan: Maktabat al-manār, 1405/1985. Anonymous. Akhbār al-dawla al-ᶜabbāsiyya. Edited by ᶜAbd al-ᶜAzīz al-Dūrī and ᶜAbd al-Jabbār al-Muṭṭalibī. Beirut: Dār al-ṭalīᶜa, 1971. ᶜAqīlī, Abū Jaᶜfar al-. al-Ḍuᶜafā’ al-kabīr. 4 vols. Edited by ᶜAbd al-Muᶜṭī Qalᶜajī. Beirut: Dār al-kutub al-ᶜilmiyya, 1404/1984. Aṣbahānī, Abū al-Shaykh al-. Akhlāq al-nabī. 4 vols. Edited by Ṣāliḥ ibn Muḥammad al- Wanyān. Riyadh: Dār al-Muslim li-l-nashr wa-l-tawzīᶜ, 1998. Bājī, Abū al-Walīd al-. al-Taᶜdīl wa-l-tajrīḥ. 3 vols. Edited by Abū Libāba Ḥusayn. Riyadh: Dār al-Liwā’, 1406/1986. Balādhurī, Aḥmad ibn Yaḥyā al-. Ansāb al-ashrāf. 13 vols. Edited by Suhayl Zakkār and Riyāḍ al-Ziriklī. Beirut: Dār al-fikr, 1417/1996. Balādhurī, Aḥmad ibn Yaḥyā al-. Ansāb al-ashrāf, vol. V. Edited by S. D. Goitein. Jerusalem: Hebrew University Press, 1938. Balādhurī, Aḥmad ibn Yaḥyā al-. Kitāb futūḥ al-buldān. Edited by Michael Jan de Goeje. Leiden: Brill, 1865–1866. Balādhurī, Aḥmad ibn Yaḥyā al-. The Origins of the Islamic State. Translated by Francis Murgotten and Philip Khuri Hitti. New York: AMS Press, 1968. Balkhī, Abū al-Qāsim al-, ᶜAbd al-Jabbār, and al-Ḥākim al-Jushamī. Faḍl al-iᶜtizāl wa ṭabaqāt al-muᶜtazila. Edited by Fu’ād Sayyid. Beirut: Dār al-Fārābī, 1439/2017. Barqī, ᶜAbd al-Raḥmān al-. Rijāl al-Barqī: Ṭabaqāt. Tehran: Manshūrāt Jāmiᶜat Ṭihrān, 1383/1963. Bayḍāwī, ᶜAbdullāh al-. Anwār al-tanzīl. 5 vols. Edited by Muḥammad ᶜAbd al-Raḥmān. Beirut: Dār iḥyā’ al-turāth al-ᶜarabī, 1418/1998. Bayhaqī, Aḥmad ibn Ḥusayn al-. Dalā’il al-nubuwwa. 7 vols. Edited by ᶜAbd al-Muᶜṭī Qalᶜajī. Beirut: Dār al-kutub al-ᶜilmiyya, 1405/1984. Bayhaqī, Aḥmad ibn Ḥusayn al-. Manāqib al-Shāfiᶜī. 2 vols. Edited by al-Sayyid Aḥmad Ṣaqr. Cairo: Dār al-turāth, 1390/1970.
256 Works Cited Dāraquṭnī, Abū al-Ḥasan. al-Ḍuᶜafā’ wa-l-matrukūn. 3 vols. Edited by ᶜAbd al-Raḥīm Muḥammad al-Qashqarī. Medina: Majallat al-jāmiᶜa al-islāmiyya, 1403/1983. Dāraquṭnī, Abū al-Ḥasan. al-Mu’talif wa-l-mukhtalif. 5 vols. Edited by Muwaffaq ᶜAbd al-Qādir. Beirut: Dār al-gharb al-islāmī, 1406/1986. Dārimī, ᶜAbd al-Raḥmān al-. Musnad al-Dārimī. 4 vols. Edited by Ḥusayn Salīm al- Dārānī. Saudi Arabia: Dār al-mughnī, 1412/2000. Dāwūdī, Muḥammad Shams al-Dīn al-. Tabaqāt al-mufassirīn. 2 vols. Beirut: Dār al- kutub al-ᶜilmiyya, n.d. Dhahabī, Shams al-Dīn al-. Mīzān al-iᶜtidāl fī naqd al-rijāl. 4 vols. Edited by ᶜAlī Muḥammad al-Bijāwī. Beirut: Dār al-maᶜrifa, 1382/1963. Dhahabī, Shams al-Dīn al-. Siyar aᶜlām al-nubalā’. 25 vols. Edited by Shuᶜayb al-Arnā’ūṭ et al. Beirut: Mu’assasat al-risāla, 1405/1985. Dhahabī, Shams al-Dīn al-. Tadhkirat al-ḥuffāẓ. 4 vols. Beirut: Dār al-kutub al-ᶜilmiyya, 1419/1998. Dhahabī, Shams al-Dīn al-. Ta’rīkh al-Islām. 52 vols. Edited by ᶜUmar ᶜAbd al-Salām Tadmurī. Beirut: Dār al-kitāb al-ᶜarabī, 1413/1993. Dīnawarī, Abū Ḥanīfa al-. Kitāb al- akhbār al- ṭiwāl. Edited by Vladimir Jirjas. Leiden: Brill, 1888. Fasawī, Yaᶜqūb ibn Sufyān al-. al-Maᶜrifa wa-l-tārīkh. 3 vols. Edited by Akram Ḍiyā’ al- ᶜUmarī. Beirut: Mu’assasat al-risāla, 1401/1981. Fazārī, Abū Isḥāq al-. Kitāb al-siyar. Edited by Fārūq Ḥamāda. Beirut: Mu’assasat al-risāla, 1408/1987. Fīrūzābādī, Majd al- Dīn al-. al-Qāmūs al-Muḥīṭ. Edited by Muḥammad Nuᶜaym. Beirut: Mu’assasat al-risāla, 1426/2005. Ghazālī, Abū Ḥāmid al-. Iḥyā’ ᶜulūm al-dīn. 4 vols. Beirut: Dār al-maᶜrifa, n.d. Ḥākim al-Kabīr al-. Shiᶜār aṣḥāb al-ḥadīth. Edited by Ṣubḥī al-Sāmirrā’ī. Kuwait: Dār al-khulafā’, n.d. Ḥalabī, ᶜAlī ibn Burhān al-Dīn al-. Insān al-ᶜuyūn fī sīrat al-Amīn wa-l-Ma’mūn. 3 vols. Beirut: Dār al-maᶜrifa, n.d. Harawī, Abū Ismāᶜīl al-. Dhamm al-kalām wa ahli-h. 5 vols. Edited by ᶜAbd al-Raḥmān al-Shibl. Medina: Maktabat al-ᶜulūm wa-l-ḥikam, 1418/1998. Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, Yūsuf ibn ᶜAbdullāh. al-Durar fī ikhtiṣār al-maghāzī wa-l-siyar. Edited by Shawqī Ḍayf. Cairo: Dār al-maᶜārif, 1991. Ibn ᶜAbd al-Barr, Yūsuf ibn ᶜAbdullāh. al-Istīᶜāb fī maᶜrifat al-aṣḥāb. Edited by Ṣubḥī al-Sāmirrā’ī. Kuwait: al-Dār al-salafiyya, 1404/1984. Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam, ᶜAbdullāh. Futūḥ Miṣr wa akhbāruhā. Edited by Charles Cutler Torrey. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1922. Ibn ᶜAbd al-Ḥakam al-Miṣrī. Sīrat ᶜUmar ibn ᶜAbd al-ᶜAzīz. Edited by Aḥmad ᶜUbayd. Beirut: ᶜĀlam al-kitāb, 1404/1984. Ibn ᶜAbd Rabbih. al-ᶜIqd al-farīd. 9 vols. Edited by Mufīd Qamīḥa. Beirut: Dār al-kutub al-ᶜilmiyya, 1404/1983. Ibn Abī Ḥātim al-Rāzī. al-Jarḥ wa-l-taᶜdīl. 9 vols. Hyderabad: Majlis dā’irat al-maᶜārif; Beirut, Dār Iḥyā’ al-turāth, 1271/1952. Ibn Abī Khaythama. al-Ta’rīkh al-kabīr, Akhbār al-makkiyyīn. Edited by Ismāᶜīl Ḥusayn. Riyadh: Dār al-waṭan, 1997. Ibn Abī Khaythama. al-Ta’rīkh al-kabīr (Part 2). 2 vols. Edited by Ṣalāḥ Hilāl. Cairo: al- Fārūq li-l-nashr, 1427/2006.
Works Cited 257 Ibn Abī Khaythama. al-Ta’rīkh al-kabīr (Part 3). 4 vols. Edited by Ṣalāḥ Hilāl. Cairo: al- Fārūq li-l-nashr, 1427/2006. Ibn Abī Yaᶜlā. Ṭabaqāt al-ḥanābila. 2 vols. Edited by Muḥammad al-Fiqī. Beirut: Dār al-maᶜrifa, n.d. Ibn ᶜAsākir. Ta’rīkh Dimashq. 80 vols. Edited by ᶜAmr ibn Gharāma al-ᶜUmrawī et al. Beirut: Dār al-fikr, 1415/1995. Ibn al-Athīr, Abū al-Ḥasan ᶜAlī ibn Muḥammad. al-Kāmil fī al-tārīkh. 10 vols. Edited by ᶜUmar ᶜAbd al-Salām Tadmurī. Beirut: Dār al-kitāb al-ᶜarabī, 1417/1997. Ibn al-Athīr, Abū al-Ḥasan ᶜAlī ibn Muḥammad. Usd al-ghāba fī maᶜrifat al-ṣaḥāba. 8 vols. Edited by ᶜAlī Muᶜawwaḍ and ᶜĀdil ᶜAbd al-Mawjūd. Beirut: Dār al-kutub al-ᶜilmiyya, 1415/1994. Ibn al-Faqīh, Muḥammad al-Hamadhānī. Mukhtaṣar kitāb al-buldān. Edited by Michael Jan de Goeje. Leiden: Brill, 1885. Ibn al-Faraḍī. Ta’rīkh ᶜulamā’ al-Andalus. 2 vols. Edited by al- Sayyid al- Ḥusaynī. Cairo: Maktabat al-khānjī, 1408/1988. Ibn al-Ghaḍā’irī, Aḥmad ibn Ḥusayn. Rijāl. Edited by Muḥammad Riḍā al-Jalālī. Qum: Dār al-ḥadīth, 1422/2002. Ibn Ḥabīb, Muḥammad. al-Muḥabbar. Edited by Ilse Lichtenstädter. 1361/1942; Beirut: Dār al-āfāq al-jadīda, n.d. Ibn Ḥabīb, Muḥammad. al-Munammaq. Edited by Khurshid Aḥmad Farūq. Beirut: ᶜĀlam al-kitāb, 1405/1985. Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī. al-Iṣāba fī tamyīz al-ṣaḥāba. 8 vols. Edited by ᶜĀdil Aḥmad ᶜAbd al- Mawjūd and ᶜAlī Muḥammad Muᶜawwaḍ. Beirut: Dār al-kutub al-ᶜilmiyya, 1415/1995. Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī. Fatḥ al-bārī fī sharḥ Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī. 15 vols. Edited by Muḥib al-Dīn al-Khaṭīb. Beirut: Dār al-maᶜrifa, 1379/1960. Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī. Lisān al-mīzān. 7 vols. Beirut: Mu’assasat al-aᶜlamī, 1390/1971. Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī. Tahdhīb al-tahdhīb. 12 vols. India: Dā’irat al-maᶜārif al-niẓāmiyya, 1326/1908. Ibn Ḥajar al-ᶜAsqalānī. Taqrīb al-tahdhīb. Edited by Muḥammad ᶜAwwāma. Syria: Dār al-rashīd, 1406/1986. Ibn Ḥanbal, Aḥmad. Musnad. 45 vols. Edited by Shuᶜayb al-Arnā’ūṭ et al. Beirut: Mu’assasat al-risāla, 1421/2001. Ibn Ḥazm. al-Faṣl fī al-milal wa-l-ahwā’ wa-l-niḥal. 3 vols. Cairo: Maktabat al-khānjī, n.d. Ibn Ḥazm. al-Muḥallā. 12 vols. Beirut: Dār al-fikr, n.d. Ibn Ḥazm. Jamharat ansāb al-ᶜarab. Beirut: Dār al-kutub al-ᶜilmiyya, 1403/1983. Ibn Ḥibbān. al-Majrūḥīn min al-muḥaddithīn wa-l-ḍuᶜafā’ wa-l-matrukīn. 3 vols. Edited by Maḥmūd Ibrāhīm Zāyid. Aleppo: Dār al-waᶜy, 1396/1976. Ibn Ḥibbān. al-Sīra al-nabawiyya wa akhbār al-khulafā’. 2 vols. Edited by al-Sayyid ᶜAzīz, et al. Beirut: al-kutub al-thaqāfiyya, 1417/1997. Ibn Ḥibbān. al-Thiqāt. 9 vols. Edited by Muḥammad ᶜAbd al-Muᶜīd Khān. Hyderabad: Dā’irat al-maᶜārif al-ᶜUthmāniyya, 1393/1973. Ibn Ḥibbān. Mashāhīr ᶜulamā’ al-amṣār. 9 vols. Edited by Marzūq ᶜAlī Ibrāhīm. Manṣūra: Dār al-wafā’, 1411/1991. Ibn Hishām, ᶜAbd al- Malik, and Muḥammad Ibn Isḥāq. The Life of Muhammad. Translated by Alfred Guillaume. 1967; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999. Ibn Hishām, Abū Muḥammad ᶜAbd al-Malik. al-Sīra al-nabawiyya. 2 vols. Edited by Muṣṭafā al-Saqqā et al. Cairo: Maktabat Muṣṭafā al-Ḥalabī, 1375/1955.
258 Works Cited Ibn Hishām, Abū Muḥammad ᶜAbd al-Malik. Kitāb al-Tījān fī mulūk Ḥimyar. Edited by Markaz al-dirāsāt wa-l-abḥāth al-yamaniyya. Ṣanᶜā’: Markaz al-dirāsāt wa-l-abḥāth al- yamaniyya, 1347/1928. Ibn al-ᶜImād. Shadharāt al-dhahab fī akhbār man dhahab. 11 vols. Edited by Maḥmūd al- Arnā’ūṭ and ᶜAbd al-Qādir al-Arnā’ūṭ. Damascus: Dār Ibn Kathīr, 1406/1986. Ibn al-Jawzī. Virtues of the Imām Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal. Vol. 2. Edited and Translated by Michael Cooperson. New York: NYU Press, 2015. Ibn al-Kalbī, Hishām. Kitāb al-aṣnām. Edited by Aḥmad Zakī. Cairo: Dār al-kutub al-miṣriyya, 2000. Ibn al-Kalbī, Hishām. Nasab Maᶜadd wa-l-Yaman al-kabīr. 2 vols. Edited by Najī Ḥasan. Beirut: ᶜĀlam al-kutub,1408/1988. Ibn Khaldūn. Muqaddima. 8 vols. Edited by Suhayl Zakkār and Khalīl Shiḥāda. Beirut: Dār al-fikr, 1421/2001. Ibn Khaldūn. The Muqaddimah: An Introduction to History. Translated by Franz Rosenthal. Abridged and Edited by N. J. Dawood. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1989. Ibn Khaldūn. Prolégomènes, Texte arabe publié, d’après les manuscrits de la Bibliothèque impériale. 3 vols. Translated by M. Quatremère. Paris: Benjamin Duprat, 1858. Ibn Khallikān. Wafayāt al-aᶜyān. 7 vols. Edited by Iḥsān ᶜAbbās. Beirut: Dār ṣādir, 1900–1994. Ibn Khayr al-Ishbīlī. Fahrasat. Edited by Muḥammad Fu’ād Manṣūr. Beirut: Dār al-kutub al-ᶜilmiyya, 1419/1998. Ibn Khuradādhbih. al-Masālik wa-l-mamālik. Edited by Michael Jan de Goeje. Leiden: Brill, 1889. Ibn Manda. Maᶜrifat al-ṣaḥāba. Edited by ᶜĀmir Ṣabrī. Al Ain: UAE University, 1426/ 2005. Ibn Manẓūr, Jamāl al-Dīn Muḥammad. Lisān al- ᶜarab. 15 vols. Beirut: Dār ṣādir, 1955–1956. Ibn al-Muṭahhar al-Ḥillī, al-Ḥasan ibn Yūsuf. Khulāṣat al-aqwāl fī maᶜrifat ᶜilm al-rijāl. Edited by qism al-ḥadīth fī mujammaᶜ al-buḥūth al-islāmiyya. Mashhad: mujammaᶜ al-buḥūth al-islāmiyya, 1981. Ibn al-Muᶜtazz, ᶜAbdullāh. Ṭabaqāt al-shuᶜarā’. Edited by ᶜAbd al-Sattār Faraj. Cairo: Dār al-maᶜārif, n.d. Ibn al-Nadīm, Muḥammad ibn Isḥāq. Kitāb al-Fihrist. Edited by Gustav Flügel. Leipzig: F. C. W. Vogel, 1872. Ibn Qāniᶜ. Muᶜjam al- ṣaḥāba. 3 vols. Edited by Ṣalāḥ ibn Sālim al-Misrātī. Medina: Maktabat al-ghurabā’, 1418/1997. Ibn Qayyim al- Jawziyya. al-Ṣawāᶜiq al- mursala fī al- radd ᶜalā al-jahmiyya wa-l- muᶜaṭṭila. 4 vols. Edited by ᶜAlī ibn Muḥammad. Riyadh: Dār al-ᶜĀṣima, 1408/1988. Ibn Qudāma al-Maqdisī. al-Mughnī. 10 vols. Cairo: Maktabat al-Qāhira, 1388/1968. Ibn Qutayba al- Dīnawarī. al-Maᶜārif. Edited by Tharwat ᶜUkāsha. Cairo: Dār al-maᶜārif, 1981. Ibn Qutayba al- Dīnawarī. Faḍl al- ᶜarab wa-l-tanbīh ᶜalā ᶜulūmihā. Edited by James Montgomery and Peter Webb. Translated by Sarah Savant and Peter Webb. New York: New York University Press, 2017. Ibn Qutayba al-Dīnawarī. ᶜUyūn al-akhbār. 4 vols. Beirut: Dār al-kutub al-ᶜilmiyya, 1418/1997.
Works Cited 259 Ibn Saᶜd, Muḥammad. Kitāb al-ṭabaqāt al-kabīr. 8 vols. Edited by Muḥammad ᶜAbd al- Qādir ᶜAṭā. Beirut: Dār al-kutub al-ᶜilmiyya, 1410/1990. Ibn al-Ṣalāḥ, ᶜUthmān. Maᶜrifat anwāᶜ ᶜulūm al-ḥadīth. Edited by ᶜAbd al-Laṭīf al- Hamīm and Māhir al-Faḥl. Beirut: Dār al-kutub al-ᶜilmiyya, 1423/2002. Ibn Sallām al-Khuzāᶜī, Abū ᶜUbayd al-Qāsim. Kitāb al-amwāl. Edited by Muḥammad ᶜUmāra. Cairo: Dār al-shurūq, 1409/1989. Ibn Shabba, ᶜUmar. Ta’rīkh al-Madīna al-munawwara. Edited by Fahīm Muḥammad Shaltūt. Jeddah, 1399/1979. Ibn Shādhān, al-Faḍl. al-Īḍāḥ. Edited by al-Sayyid Jalāl al-Dīn al-Ḥusaynī. Beirut: The Arabic History Publishing and Distributing, 1430/2009. Ibn Shāhīn. Ta’rīkh asmā’ al-thiqāt. Edited by Ṣubḥī al-Sāmirrā’ī. Kuwait: al-Dār al- salafiyya, 1404/1984. Ibn Taghrībirdī, Yūsuf. al-Nujūm al-zāhira fī mulūk Miṣr wa-l-Qāhira. 16 vols. Cairo: Dār al-kutub, 1348/1929. Ibn Taymiyya, Taqī al-Dīn. al-Iklīl fī al-mutashābih wa-l-ta’wīl. Edited by Muḥammad Shiḥāta. Cairo: Dār al-īmān, n.d. Ibn Taymiyya, Taqī al-Dīn. Minhāj al-sunna al-nabawiyya. 9 vols. Muḥammad Rashād Sālim. Riyadh: Jāmiᶜat al-imām Muḥammad ibn Saᶜūd, 1406/1986. Ibn Taymiyya, Taqī al-Dīn. Muqaddima fī uṣūl al-tafsīr. Edited by Muḥammad Shiḥāta. Cairo: Dār maktabat al-ḥayāt, 1490/1980. Ibn Yūnus al-Miṣrī. Ta’rīkh. 2 vols. Beirut: Dār al-kutub al-ᶜilmiyya, 1421/2001. Ibn Zanjawayh, Ḥamīd ibn Mukhlid. Kitāb al-amwāl. Edited by Shākir Dhīb Fayyāḍ. Riyadh: Markaz al-malik Fayṣal, 1406/1986. ᶜIjlī, Abū al-Ḥasan al-. Ta’rīkh al-thiqāt. Mecca: Dār al-Bāz, 1405/1984. ᶜImrānī, Abū al-Ḥusayn al-. Al-Intiṣār fī al-radd ᶜalā al-muᶜtazila al-qadariyya al-ashrār. 3 vols. Edited by Suᶜūd al-Khalaf. Riyadh: Aḍwā’ al-salaf, 1419/1999. Isfahānī, Abū al-Faraj al-. Maqātil al- Ṭalibiyyīn. Edited by Kāẓim al-Muẓaffar. Najaf: Manshūrāt al-maktaba al-ḥaydariyya, 1385/1965. Iṣfahānī, Abū Nuᶜaym al-. Ḥilyat al-awliyā’ wa ṭabaqāt al-aṣfiyā’. 10 vols. Beirut: Dār al- kutub al-ᶜilmiyya, n.d. Iṣfahānī, Abū Nuᶜaym al-. Maᶜrifat al-ṣaḥāba. 7 vols. Edited by ᶜĀdil ibn Yūsuf al- ᶜAzāzī. Riyadh: Dār al-waṭan, 1419/1998. Iṣṭakhrī, Abū Isḥāq al-Balkhī al-. Kitāb al-masālik wa-l-mamālik. Edited by Michael Jan de Goeje. 1870; Leiden: Brill, 1927. Jāḥiẓ, Abū ᶜUthmān al-. al-Bayān wa-l-tabiyyīn. 3 vols. Beirut: Dār al-hilāl, 1423/2002. John, Bishop of Nikiu. The Chronicle of John, Bishop of Nikiu. Translated from Zotenberg’s Ethiopic Text by Robert Henry Charles. Reprint, Merchantville, NJ: Evolution, 2007. Jumaḥī, Muḥammad ibn Sallām al-. Ṭabaqāt fuḥūl al-shuᶜarā’. 2 vols. Edited by Maḥmūd Shākir. Jeddah: Dār al-madanī, n.d. Jurjānī, Ibn ᶜAdī al-. al-Kāmil fī ḍuᶜafā’ al-rijāl. 8 vols. Edited by ᶜĀdil ᶜAbd al-Mawjūd and ᶜAlī Muᶜawwaḍ. Beirut: Dār al-kutub al-ᶜilmiyya, 1418/1997. Jūzjānī, Abū Isḥāq al-. Aḥwāl al-rijāl. Edited by ᶜAbd al- ᶜAlīm al-Bastawī. Faisalabad: Hadith Academy, n.d. Kalāᶜī, Abū al-Rabīᶜ ibn Mūsā al-. al-Iktifā’ fī maghāzī rasūl Allāh. 2 vols. Beirut: Dār al- kutub al-ᶜilmiyya, 1420/1999. Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ. History on the Umayyad Dynasty 660–750. Edited by Robert G. Hoyland. Translated by Carl Wurtzel. Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 2016.
260 Works Cited Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ. Ṭabaqāt. Edited by Suhayl Zakkār. Damascus: Dār al-fikr, 1414/ 1993. Khalīfa ibn Khayyāṭ. Ta’rīkh. 2 vols. Edited by Akram Ḍiyā’ al-ᶜUmarī. Riyadh: Dār Ṭība li-l-nashr wa-l-tawzīᶜ, 1405/1985. Kharkūshī, Abū Saᶜd al-. Sharaf al-muṣṭafā. 6 vols. Mecca: Dār al-bashā’ir al-islāmiyya, 1424/2003. Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, al-. Sharaf aṣḥāb al-ḥadīth. Edited by Muḥammad Saᶜīd Ughlī. Ankara: Dār iḥyā’ al-sunna al-nabawiyya, 1972. Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, al-. Ta’rīkh Baghdād. 16 vols. Edited by Bashshār Maᶜrūf. Beirut: Dār al-gharb al-islāmī, 1422/2002. Khawārizmī, Muḥammad ibn Mūsā al-. Mafātīḥ al-ᶜulūm. Edited by Ibrāhīm al-Ibyārī. Beirut: Dār al-kitāb al-ᶜarabī, n.d. Kindī, Abū ᶜUmar Muḥammad ibn Yūsuf al-. Kitāb al-wulāh wa kitāb al-qudāh. Edited by Muḥammad Ismāᶜīl and Aḥmad al-Mazīdī. Beirut: Dār al-kutub al-ᶜilmiyya, 1424/2003. Kulaynī, al-Shaykh al-. al-Kāfī. 8 vols. Edited by ᶜAlī Akbar al-Ghaffārī. Tehran: Dār al- kutub al-islāmiyya, 1363/1944. Mālik ibn Anas. Muwaṭṭa’. Edited by ᶜAbd al-Wahhāb ᶜAbd al-Laṭīf. Beirut: al-Maktaba al-ilmiyya, n.d. Maᶜmar ibn Rāshid and ᶜAbd al-Razzāq al-Ṣanᶜānī. The Expeditions: An Early Biography of Muhammad. Edited and translated by Sean W. Anthony. New York: New York University Press, 2014. Maqdisī, al-Muṭahhar ibn Ṭāhir al-. al-Bad’ wa-l-ta’rīkh. 6 vols. Port Said: Maktabat al- thaqafa aldiiniyya, n.d. Maqrīzī, Taqī al-Dīn al-. al-Mawāᶜiẓ wa-l-iᶜtibār fī dhikr al-khiṭaṭ wa-l-athār. 4 vols. Beirut: Dar al-kutub al-ᶜilmiyya, 1418/1997. Masᶜūdī, Abū al-Ḥasan al-. Ithbāt al-waṣiyya. 1996; Qum: Mu’assasat Anṣāriyān, 2006. Masᶜūdī, Abū al-Ḥasan al-. Kitāb al-Tanbīh wa-l-ishrāf. Edited by ᶜAbdullāh al-Ṣāwī. Cairo: Dār al-Ṣāwī, n.d. Masᶜūdī, Abū al-Ḥasan al-. Murūj al-dhahab. 4 vols. Edited by Kamāl Ḥasan Marᶜī. Beirut: Al-maktaba al-ᶜaṣriyya, 2005. Māwardī, Abū al-Ḥasan al-. al-Aḥkām al-sulṭāniyya. Cairo: Dār al-ḥadīth, n.d. Mizzī, Yūsuf ibn ᶜAbd al-Raḥmān al-. Tahdhīb al-kamāl fi asmā’ al-rijāl. 35 vols. Edited by Bashshār ᶜAwwād Maᶜrūf. Beirut: Mu’assasat al-risāla, 1400/1980. Mufīd, al-Shaykh al-. Taṣḥīḥ iᶜtiqādāt al-imāmiyya. Edited by Ḥusayn Dargāhī. Qum: al- mu’tamar al-ᶜālamī, 1413/1993. Mujāhid ibn Jabr. Tafsīr. Edited by Muḥammad ᶜAbd al-Salām Abū al-Nīl. Cairo: Dār al- fikr al-islāmī al-ḥadītha, 1410/1989. Muqātil ibn Sulaymān. Tafsīr Muqātil. 5 vols. Edited by ᶜAbdullāh Maḥmūd Shiḥāta. Beirut: Dār iḥiyā’ al-turāth, 1423/2002. Murtaḍā, Aḥmad ibn Yaḥyā Ibn al-. Kitāb ṭabaqāt al-muᶜtazila. Edited by Susanna Diwald-Wilzer. Beirut: Franz Steiner Verlag, 1380/1961. Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba. Aḥādīth muntakhaba min maghāzī Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba. Abridged by Yūsuf ibn ᶜUmar ibn Qāḍī Shuhba. Edited by Mashhūr Salmān. Beirut: Mu’assasat al-rayyān, 1991. Mūsā ibn ᶜUqba. al-Maghāzī. Edited by Muḥammad Bāqshīsh Abū Mālik. Akadīr: Jāmiᶜat ibn Zahr, 1994. Najāshī, Abū al-ᶜAbbās al-. Rijāl al-Najāshī. Edited by Mūsā al-Zinjānī. Qum: Mu’assasat al-nashr al-islāmī, 1418/1997.
Works Cited 261 Naṣr ibn Muzāḥim. Waqᶜat Ṣiffīn. Edited by ᶜAbd al-Salām Muḥammad Hārūn. 1382/ 1962; Beirut: Dār al-Jīl, 1410/1990. Nawawī, Abū Zakariyyā al-. Tahdhīb al-asmā’ wa-l-lughāt. 4 vols. Beirut: Dār al-kutub al-ᶜilmiyya, n.d. Qazwīnī, Abū Yaᶜlā al-Khalīlī al-. al- Irshād fī maᶜrifat ᶜulamā’ al- ḥadīth. 3 vols. Riyadh: Dār al-rushd, 1409/1989. Qurṭubī, Abū ᶜAbdullāh al-Anṣārī al-. al-Jāmiᶜ li-aḥkām al-Qur’ān. 20 vols. Edited by Hishām Samīr al-Bukhārī. Riyadh: Dār ᶜālam al-kutub, 2003. Raḍī, al-Sharīf al-. Nahj al-balāgha. Edited by Ṣubḥī al-Ṣāliḥ. Beirut: Dār al-kitāb al- lubnānī, 1402/1982. Rāzī, Abū Bakr al-. Mukhtār al-Ṣaḥḥāḥ. Edited by Yūsuf Muḥammad. Beirut: al-Maktaba al-ᶜaṣriyya, 1420/1999. Ṣadūq, al-Shaykh al-. Kitāb man lā yaḥḍuruh al-faqīh. 4 vols. Edited by ᶜAlī Akbar al- Ghaffārī. Qum: Mu’assasat al-nashr al-islāmī, 1429/2008. Ṣadūq, al-Shaykh al-. ᶜUyūn akhbār al-Riḍā. 2 vols. Tehran: Manshūrāt Jahān, n.d. Ṣafadī, Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn al-. al-Wāfī bi-l-wafayāt. 29 vols. Edited by Aḥmad al-Arnā’ūṭ and Turkī Muṣṭafā. Beirut: Dār iḥyā’ al-turāth, 1420/2000. Samᶜānī, ᶜAbd al-Karīm al-. Ansāb. Edited by ᶜAbd al-Raḥmān al-Yamānī et al. Hyderabad: Dā’irat al-maᶜārif al-ᶜUthmāniyya, 1382/1962. Sayf ibn ᶜUmar. Kitāb al-Ridda wa-l-futūḥ wa kitāb al- jamal wa masīr ᶜĀ’isha wa ᶜAlī: A Critical Edition of the Fragments Preserved in the University Library of Imām Muḥammad ibn Saᶜūd Islamic University in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. 2 vols. Edited by Qāsim al-Sammarrā’ī. Leiden: Brill, 1995. Shāfiᶜī, ibn Idrīs al-. al-Umm. 8 vols. Beirut: Dār al-maᶜrifa, 1410/1990. Shāfiᶜī, ibn Idrīs al-. Musnad. 4 vols. Edited by Māhir al-Faḥl. Kewiut: Ghrās li-l-nashr, 1425/2004. Shāfiᶜī, ibn Idrīs al-. Tafsīr. 3 vols. Edited by Aḥmad al-Farrān. Saudi Arabia: Dār al- tadmuriyya, 1427/2006. Shahrastānī, Abū al-Fatḥ al-. Kitāb al-milal wa-l-niḥal. 3 vols. Syria: Mu’assasat al-ḥalabī, n.d. Shīrāzī, Abū Isḥāq al-. Ṭabaqāt al-fuqahā’. Edited by Iḥsān ᶜAbbās. Beirut: Dār al-Rā’id al-ᶜarabī, 1970. Suhaylī, Abū al-Qāsim al-. al-Rawḍ al-unuf fī sharḥ al-sīra al-nabawiyya li-Ibn Hishām. 7 vols. Edited by ᶜUmar ᶜAbd al-Salām al-Salāmī. Beirut: Dār iḥyā’ al-turāth al-ᶜarabī, 1421/2000. Sulaym ibn Qays. Kitāb Sulaym ibn Qays al-Hilālī: Asrār āl Muḥammad. Edited by Muḥammad Bāqir al-Anṣārī. Qum: Dār al-hādī, 1420/2000. Suyūṭī, Jalāl al-Dīn al-. Ṭabaqāt al-ḥuffāẓ. Beirut: Dār al-kutub al-ᶜilmiyya, 1403/1983. Suyūṭī, Jalāl al-Dīn al-. Ta’rīkh al-khulafā’. Edited by Ḥamdī al-Dimirdāsh. Mecca: Maktabat Nizār Muṣṭafā al-Bāz, 1425/2004. Ṭabarī, Abū Jaᶜfar Muḥammad ibn Jarīr al-. Ta’rīkh al-rusul wa-l-mulūk. 16 vols. Edited by Michael Jan de Goeje et al. Reprint; Piscataway, NJ: Gorgias Press, 2005. Ṭabarī, Abū Jaᶜfar Muḥammad ibn Jarīr al-. The History of al-Ṭabarī. 40 vols. Edited by C. E. Bosworth et al. New York: State University of New York Press, 1980–1999. Ṭabarī, Abū Jaᶜfar Muḥammad ibn Jarīr al-. Jāmiᶜ al-bayān fī ta’wīl al-Qur’ān. 24 vols. Edited by Aḥmad Muḥammad Shākir. Beirut: Mu’assasat al-risāla, 1420/2000. Ṭabarī, Muḥib al-Dīn al-. Dhakhā’ir al-ᶜuqbā. Cairo: Dār al-kutub a-miṣriyya, 1356/ 1923.
262 Works Cited Ṭabarsī, Abū ᶜAlī ibn Ḥasan al-. al-Iḥtijāj. 2 vols. Edited by al-Sayyid Muḥammad Bāqir al-Kharasān. Najaf: Dār al-nuᶜmān li-l-ṭibāᶜa wa-l-nashr, 1386/1966. Ṭabarsī, Abū ᶜAlī ibn Ḥasan al-. Iᶜlām al-warā bi-aᶜlām al-hudā. 2 vols. Qum: Mu’assasat āl al-bayt li-iḥyā’ al-turāth, 1417/1996. Tanūkhī, al-Muḥsin al-. al-Faraj baᶜd al-shidda. 5 vols. Edited by ᶜAbbūd al-Shāljī. Beirut: Dār ṣādir, 1398/1978. Thaᶜlabī, Abū Isḥāq al-. al-Kashf wa-l-bayān. 10 vols. Edited by Abū Muḥammad ᶜĀashūr and Naẓīr Sāᶜidī. Beirut: Iḥyā’ al-turāth, 1422/2002. Thaqafī, Ibn Hilāl al-. Kitāb al-ghārāt. Edited by al-Sayyid al-Khaṭīb. Beirut: Dār al-aḍwā’, 1407/1987. Theophanes. The Chronicle: An English Translation of Anni Mundi 6095–6305 (a.d. 602–813). Translated by Harry Turtledove. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1982. Tirmidhī, Abū ᶜĪsā al-. al-Shamā’il al-Muḥammadiyya. Beirut: Dār iḥyā’ al-trāth, n.d. Ṭūsī, Abū Jaᶜfar ibn al-Ḥasan al-. al-Fihrist. Qum: Manshūrāt al-Riḍā, n.d. Ṭūsī, Abū Jaᶜfar ibn al-Ḥasan al-. Ikhtiyār maᶜrifat al-rijāl (abridgement of Rijāl al- Kashshī). Edited by Jawwād al-Iṣfahānī. Qum: Mu’assasat al-nashr al-islāmī, 1427/ 2006. Ṭūsī, Abū Jaᶜfar ibn al- Ḥasan al-. Rijāl al- Ṭūsī. Edited by Jawwād al-Iṣfahānī. Qum: Mu’assasat al-nashr al-islāmī, n.d. ᶜUqaylī, Abū Jaᶜfar al-. al-Ḍuᶜafā’ al-kabīr. 4 vols. Edited by ᶜAbd al-Muᶜṭī Qalᶜajī. Beirut: Dār al-kutub al-ᶜilmiyya, 1404/1984. Wāḥidī, Abū al-Ḥasan ᶜAlī al-. Asbāb nuzūl al-Qur’ān. Edited by Kamāl Basyūnī Zaghlūl. Beirut: Dār al-kutub al-ᶜilmiyya, 1411/1991. Wakīᶜ, Muḥammad ibn Khalaf. Akhbār al-quḍāt. 3 vols. Edited by ᶜAbd al-ᶜAzīz al- Marāghī. Cairo: al-Maktaba al-tujāriyya, 1366/1947. Wāqidī, Abū ᶜAbdullāh ibn ᶜUmar al-. al-Maghāzī. 3rd ed. 3 vols. Edited by Marsden Jones. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1984. Wāqidī, Abū ᶜAbdullāh ibn ᶜUmar al-. Kitāb al-ridda wa futūḥ al-ᶜIrāq. Edited by Yaḥyā Wahīb al-Jabbūrī. Beirut: Dār al-gharb al-islāmī, 1410/1990. Wāqidī, Abū ᶜAbdullāh ibn ᶜUmar al-. The Life of Muḥammad: Al-Wāqidī’s Kitāb al- Maghāzī. Edited by Rizwi Faizer and translated by Rizwi Fazier, Amal Ismail, and AbdulKader Tayob. London: Routledge, 2011. Wāqidī (Pseudo), Abū ᶜAbdullāh ibn ᶜUmar al-. Futūḥ al-Shām. 2 vols. Beirut: Dār al- kutub al-ᶜilmiyya, 1417/1997. Yaḥyā ibn Ādam. Kitāb al-kharāj. Edited by Ḥussayn Mu’nis. Cairo: Dār al-shurūq, 1987. Yaḥyā ibn Maᶜīn. Maᶜrifat al-rijāl. 2 vols. Narrated by Ibn Miḥriz. Edited by Muḥammad Kāmil al-Qaṣṣār. Damascus: Majmaᶜ al-lugha al-ᶜarabiyya, 1405/1985. Yaḥyā ibn Maᶜīn. Ta’rīkh. 4 vols. Narrated by al-Dūrī. Edited by Aḥmad Muḥammad Sayf. Mecca: Markaz al-baḥth al-ᶜilmī, 1399/1997. Yaᶜqūbī, Aḥmad ibn Wāḍiḥ al-. Ta’rīkh. 2 vols. Edited by M. Th. Houtsma. Leiden: Brill, 1883. Yaᶜqūbī, Aḥmad ibn Wāḍiḥ al-. Kitāb al-buldān. Edited by Theodor W. Juynboll. Leiden: Brill, 1860. Yaᶜqūbī, Aḥmad ibn Wāḍiḥ al-. Mushākalat al-nās li-zamānihim. Edited by Maḍyūf al- Farā. Doha: University of Qatar, 1414/1993. Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī. Kitāb muᶜjam al-buldān. 5 vols. Beirut: Dār ṣādir 1397/1977.
Works Cited 263 Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī. Muᶜjam al-udabā’. 7 vols. Edited by Iḥsān ᶜAbbās. Beirut: Dār al-gharb al-islāmī, 1414/1993. Zamakhsharī, Abū al-Qāsim al-. al-Kashshāf. 4 vols. Beirut: Dār al-kitāb al-ᶜarabī, 1407/ 1986. Zubayr ibn Bakkār. al-Muntakhab min azwāj al-nabī. Edited by Sakīna al-Shihābī. Beirut: Mu’assasat al-risāla, 1403/1983. Zubayrī, Muṣᶜab ibn ᶜAbdullāh al-. Nasab Quraysh. Edited by Évariste Lévi-Provençal. Cairo: Dār al-maᶜārif, 1953. Zuhrī, Muḥammad ibn Shihāb al-. al-Maghāzī al-nabawiyya. Edited by Suhayl Zakkār. Damascus: Dār al-fikr, 1981. Zuhrī, Muḥammad ibn Shihāb al-. Marwiyyāt al-imām al-Zuhrī fī al-maghāzī. 2 vols. Edited by Muḥammad al-ᶜAwājī. Medina: al-Jāmiᶜa al-islāmiyya, 1425/2004.
Secondary Sources Abbott, Nabia. “Women and the State on the Eve of Islam.” American Journal of Semitic Languages and Literatures 58 (1941): 259–284. Abbott, H. Porter. The Cambridge Introduction to Narrative. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2008. ᶜAbd al-Karīm, Khalīl. Quraysh: Min al-qabīla ilā al-dawla al-markaziyya. 2nd ed. Cairo: Dār sīnā li-l-nashr, Mu’assasat al-intishār al-ᶜarabī, 1997. ᶜAbd al-Karīm, Khalīl. Shadwu al-rabāba bi-aḥwāl mujtamaᶜ al-ṣaḥāba. 3 vols. 2nd ed. Cairo: Dār sīnā li-l-nashr, Mu’assasat al-intishār al-ᶜarabī, 1998. Abou El Fadl, Khaled. Rebellion and Violence in Islamic Law. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006. Abū Khalīl, Shawqī. Hārūn al- Rashīd: Amīr al- khulafā’ wa ajall mulūk al- dunyā. Damasus: Maktabat al-asad, 1996. Abū Rayya, Maḥmūd. Abū Hurayra. 4th ed. Beirut: Mu’assasat al-aᶜlamī, 1413/1993. Abū Rayya, Maḥmūd. Aḍwā’ ᶜalā al-sunna al-Muḥammadiyya. 6th ed. Cairo: Dār al-maᶜārif, 1994. Abū Zayd, Naṣr Ḥāmid. al-Imām al-Shāfiᶜī wa ta’sīs al- wasaṭiyya. Cairo: Sīna li-l-nashr, 1992. Abū Zayd, Naṣr Ḥāmid. al-Naṣṣ, al-sulṭa, al- ḥaqīqa. Beirut: al-Markaz al-thaqāfī al-ᶜarabī, 1995. Abū Zayd, Naṣr Ḥāmid. Falsafat al-ta’wīl. Beirut: Dār al-tanwīr, 1983. Abū Zayd, Naṣr Ḥāmid. Naqd al-khiṭāb al-dīnī. Cairo: Sīna li-l-nashr, 1994. Adil, Hajjah Amina. Muhammad, the Messenger of Islam: His Life and Prophecy. Washington, DC: Islamic Supreme Council of America, 2002. Adang, Camilla. “Medieval Muslim Polemics against the Jewish Scriptures.” In Muslim Perceptions of Other Religions, edited by Jacques Waardenburgh, 143–159. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999. Agha, Salih Said. The Revolution Which Toppled the Umayyads: Neither Arab nor ᶜAbbāsid. Leiden: Brill, 2003. Agius, Dionisius A. “The Shuᶜūbiyya Movement and Its Literary Manifestation.” Islamic Quarterly 24 (1980): 76–88. Ahmad, Barakat. Muhammad and the Jews. New Delhi: Vikas, 1979.
264 Works Cited Ahmed, Asad Q. The Religious Elite of the Early Islamic Ḥijāz: Five Prosopographical Case Studies. Oxford: Occasional Publications UPR, 2011. Ahmed, Leila. Women and Gender in Islam: Historical Roots of a Modern Debate. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1992. Ahmed, Shahab. Before Orthodoxy: The Satanic Verses in Early Islam. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2017. Akpinar, Mehmetcan. “Narrative Representations of Abū Bakr (d. 13/634) in the Second/ Eighth Century.” Ph.D. dissertation, University of Chicago, 2016. ᶜAlawī, Hādī al-. Maḥaṭṭāt fī al-tārīkh wa-l-turāth. Damascus: Dār al- ṭalīᶜa al-jadīda, 1997. ᶜAlī, Jawwād. al-Mufaṣṣal fī tārīkh al-ᶜarab qabl al-islām. 11 vols. Baghdad: Jāmiᶜat Baghdād, 1431/1993. Ali, Kecia. Imam Shafiᶜi: Scholar and Saint. Oxford: Oneworld, 2011. Ali, Kecia. Marriage and Slavery in Early Islam. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2010. Althoff, Gerd, Johannes Fried, and Patrick J. Geary, eds. Medieval Concepts of the Past: Ritual, Memory, Historiography. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, German Historical Institute, 2002. Amīn, Aḥmad. Ḍuḥā al-islām. 3 vols. 1933; Cairo: al-Hay’a al-Miṣriyya al-ᶜāmma li-l- kitāb, 1997–1999. Amīn, Aḥmad. Fajr al-islām. 1929; Beirut: Dār al-kitāb al-ᶜarabī, 1969. Amīn, Aḥmad. Ẓuhr al-islām. 1945; Cairo: Mu’assasat Hindāwī li-l-taᶜlīm wa-l-thaqāfa, 2013. Amīn, al-Sayyid Muḥsin al-. Kitāb aᶜyān al-shīᶜa. 12 vols. Edited by Ḥasan al-Amīn. Beirut: Dār al-taᶜāruf li-l-maṭbūᶜāt, 1403/1983. Amīnī, ᶜAbd al-Ḥusayn. Kitāb al-ghadīr. 11 vols. Beirut: Mu’assasat al-aᶜlamī, 1414/1994. Amīnī, ᶜAbd al-Ḥusayn. Naẓra fī minhāj al-sunna al-nabawiyya. Edited by Aḥmad al- Kanānī. Beirut: Dār al-fikr, 1417/1996. Amir-Moezzi, Mohammad Ali. The Silent Qur’ān and the Speaking Qur’ān: Scriptural Sources of Islam between History and Fervor. Translated by Eric Ormsby. New York: Columbia University Press, 2016. Andersson, Tobias. Early Sunnī Historiography: A Study of the Tārīkh of Khalīfa B. Khayyāṭ. Leiden: Brill, 2018. Andræ, Tor. Die Person Muhammads in Lehre und Glauben seiner Gemeinde. Stockholm: Norstedt & Soner, 1917. Ansari, Hassan, and Sabine Schmidtke. “The Shīᶜī Reception of Muᶜtazilism (II): Twelver Shīᶜīs.” In The Oxford Handbook of Islamic Theology, edited by Sabine Schmidtke, 196– 214. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2016. Anthony, Sean W. The Caliph and the Heretic: Ibn Saba’ and the Origins of Shī’ism. Leiden: Brill, 2012. Anthony, Sean W. “The Caliph and the Heretic: Ibn Saba’, the Saba’iya and Early Shi’ism between Myth and History.” Ph.D. dissertation, University of Chicago, 2009. Anthony, Sean W. Muhammad and the Empires of Faith: The Making of the Prophet of Islam. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2020. Anthony, Sean. “Was Ibn Wāḍiḥ al-Yaᶜqūbī a Shiᶜite Historian? The State of the Question.” Al-ᶜUṣūr al-Wusṭā 24 (2016): 15–41. ᶜAqqād, ᶜAbbās Maḥmūd al-.ᶜAbqariyyat al- ṣiddīq. Beirut: Manshūrāt al-maktaba al-ᶜaṣriyya, n.d.
Works Cited 265 ᶜAqqād, ᶜAbbās Maḥmūd al-.ᶜAbqariyyat Muḥammad. Fajjāla: Dār nahḍat Miṣr, 1977. ᶜAqqād, ᶜAbbās Maḥmūd al-. Muᶜāwiya ibn Abī Sufyān. Cairo: Nahḍat Miṣr, 1993. Arabi, Oussama, David Powers, and Susan Spectorsky, eds. Islamic Legal Thought: A Compendium of Muslim Jurists. Leiden: Brill, 2013. Arnold, Thomas Walker. The Preaching of Islam: A History of the Propagation of the Muslim Faith. London: Constable, 1913. ᶜAskarī, Murtaḍā al-. ᶜAbdullāh ibn Saba’ wa asāṭīr ukhrā. Beirut: Dār al-zahrā’, 1412/ 1991. Assmann, Jan. Cultural Memory and Early Civilization: Writing, Remembrance, and Political Imagination. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2011. Assmann, Jan. Moses the Egyptian: The Memory of Egypt in Western Monotheism. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1997. ᶜAṭiyya, Rajā’ī. Dimā’ ᶜalā jidār al-sulṭa. Cairo: Dār al-shurūq, 2017. ᶜAṭwān, Ḥusayn. al-Zandaqa wa-l-shuᶜūbiyya fī al-ᶜaṣr al-ᶜabbāsī al-awwal. Beirut: Dār al-jīl, 1984. Awde, Nicholas. Women in Islam: An Anthology from the Qur’ān and Ḥadīths. New York: Routledge, 1999. Aylāl, Rashīd. Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī: Nihāyat usṭūra. Morocco: Dār al-waṭan, 2017. Ayoub, Mahmoud. The Qur’an and Its Interpreters. Vol. 1. Albany: State University of New York Press, 1984. Azaiez, Mehdi. Le contre-discours coranique. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 2015. ᶜAẓmah, ᶜAzīz al-. Al-Masᶜūdī. Beirut: Riad el-Rayyes Books, 2001. ᶜAẓmah, ᶜAzīz al-. Al-Turāth bayn al-sulṭān wa-l-tārīkh. Casablanca: Dār Qurṭuba, 1987. ᶜAẓmah, ᶜAzīz al-. Ibn Khaldūn wa tārīkhiyyatuh. Beirut: Dār al-ṭalīᶜa li-l-nashr, 1987. Badawī, ᶜAbd al-Raḥmān. Mawsūᶜat al-mustashriqīn. Beirut: Dār al- ᶜilm lil-malāyīīn, 1993. Badawī, ᶜAbd al-Raḥmān. Min tārīkh al-ilḥād fī al-islām. Beirut: al-Mu’assasa al- ᶜarabiyya li-l-nashr, 1980. Baer, Marc David. Honored by the Glory of Islam: Conversion and Conquest in Ottoman Europe. New York: Oxford University Press, 2008. Baḥr al-ᶜUlūm, Muḥammad Mahdī. al-Fawā’id al-rijāliyya. 4 vols. Najaf: Manshūrāt maktabat al-Ṣādiq, 1405/1984. Bakhos, Carol, and Michael Cook, eds. Islam and Its Past: Jahiliyya, Late Antiquity, and the Qur’an. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2017. Barth, Fredrik, ed. Ethnic Groups and Boundaries: The Social Organisation of Culture Difference. Boston: Little, Brown, 1969. Bearman, P., Th. Bianquis, C. E. Bosworth, E. von Donzol, and W. P. Heinrichs, eds. Encyclopædia of Islam. 2nd ed. Leiden: Brill, 1960–2002. Bearman, Peri J., et al., eds. The Islamic School of Law: Evolution, Devolution, and Progress. Cambridge, MA: Islamic Legal Studies Program, Harvard Law School, 2005. Beck, Norman A. Mature Christianity: The Recognition and Repudiation of the Anti-Jewish Polemic of the New Testament. Plainsboro, NJ: Associated University Presses, 1985. Behzadi, Lale, and Jaakko Hämeen-Anttila, eds. Concepts of Authorship in Pre-Modern Arabic Texts. Bamberger Orientstudien, 7. Bamberg: University of Bamberg Press, 2016. Bennett, David. “The Muᶜtazilite Movement (II): The Early Muᶜtazilites.” In The Oxford Handbook of Islamic Theology, edited by Sabine Schmidtke, 142–158. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2016.
266 Works Cited Bennison, Amira K. The Great Caliphs: The Golden Age of the ᶜAbbāsid Empire. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2014. Berg, Herbert. “ᶜAbbāsid Historians’ Portrayals of al-ᶜAbbās b. ᶜAbd al-Muṭṭalib.” In ᶜAbbāsid Studies II: Occasional Papers of the School of ᶜAbbāsid Studies Leuven, 28 June–1 July 2004, edited by John Nawas, 13–38. Leuven: Peeters, 2010. Berg, Herbert. The Development of Exegesis in Early Islam: The Authenticity of Muslim Literature from the Formative Period. Richmond, Surrey, UK: Curzon, 2000. Berg, Herbert. “The Implications of, and Opposition to, the Methods and Theories of John Wansbrough.” Method and Theory in the Study of Religion 9, no. 1 (1997): 3–22. Berg, Herbert, ed. Method and Theory in the Study of Islamic Origins. Leiden: Brill, 2003. Berger, Peter L. The Sacred Canopy; Elements of a Sociological Theory of Religion. Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1967. Berkel, Maaike, et al., eds. Crisis and Continuity at the Abbasid Court: Formal and Informal Politics in the Caliphate of Al-Muqtadir (295–320/908–32). Leiden: Brill, 2013. Berkey, Jonathan. The Formation of Islam: Religion and Society in the Near East, 600–1800. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2003. Bernards, Monique, ed. ᶜAbbāsid Studies IV: Occasional Papers of the School of ᶜAbbāsid Studies. Haverton Hill, UK: Gibb Memorial Trust, 2013. Bernards, Monique, and John Abdallah Nawas, eds. Patronate and Patronage in Early and Classical Islam. Leiden: Brill, 2005. Bernheimer, Teresa. The ᶜAlids: The First Family of Islam, 750–1200. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2013. Bertaina, David. “Melkites, Mutakallimūn and al-Ma’mūn: Depicting the Religious Other in Medieval Arabic Dialogues.” Comparative Islamic Studies 4, nos. 1–2 (2008): 17–36. Black, Antony. The History of Islamic Political Thought: From the Prophet to the Present. 2nd ed. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2011. Borrut, Antoine. Entre mémoire et pouvoir: L’espace Syrien sous les derniers Ommeyades et les premiers Abbassides (V. 72–193/692–809). Leiden: Brill, 2011. Borrut, Antoine. “Vanishing Syria: Periodization and Power in Early Islam.” Der Islam 91, no. 1 (2014): 37–68. Borrut, Antoine, and Paul M. Cobb, eds. Umayyad Legacies. Leiden: Brill, 2010. Borrut, Antoine, and Fred McGraw Donner, eds. Christians and Others in the Umayyad State. Chicago: Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago, 2016. Bouvat, Lucien. Les Barmécides d’après les historiens arabes et persans. Paris: Ernest Leroux, 1912. Böwering, Gerhard, et al., eds. The Princeton Encyclopedia of Islamic Political Thought. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2013. Bray, Julia, ed. Writing and Representation in Medieval Islam: Muslim Horizons. Routledge Studies in Middle Eastern Literatures. New York: Routledge, 2006. Breisach, Ernst, ed. Classical Rhetoric and Medieval Historiography. Kalamazoo: Medieval Institute, Western Michigan University, 1985. Bremmer, Jan N., Wout Jac. van Bekkum, and Arie L. Molendijk, eds. Cultures of Conversions. Leuven: Peeters, 2006. Brett, Michael. “The Spread of Islam in Egypt and North Africa.” In Northern Africa: Islam and Modernization, edited by Michael Brett, 1–12. London: Cass, 1973. Brockelmann, Carl. History of the Arabic Written Tradition. 2 vols. with 2 supplements. Translated by Joep Lameer. Leiden: Brill, 2017–2018.
Works Cited 267 Brockelmann, Carl. Ta’rīkh al-adab al-ᶜarabī. 6 vols. Edited by ᶜAbd al-Ḥalīm al-Najjār and Ramaḍān ᶜAbd al-Tawwāb. Cairo: Dār al-maᶜārif, 1977. Brockopp, Jonathan E., ed. The Cambridge Companion to Muḥammad. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010. Brockopp, Jonathan E. Early Mālikī Law: Ibn ᶜAbd Al-Ḥakam and His Major Compendium of Jurisprudence. Leiden: Brill, 2000. Brockopp, Jonathan E. “Slavery in Islamic Law: An Examination of Early Mālikī Jurisprudence.” Ph.D. dissertation, Yale University, 1995. Brown, Jonathan. “Did the Prophet Say It or Not? The Literal, Historical, and Effective Truth of Ḥadīths in Early Sunnism.” Journal of the American Oriental Society 129, no. 2 (2009): 259–285. Brown, Jonathan. Misquoting Muhammad: The Challenge and Choices of Interpreting the Prophet’s Legacy. London: Oneworld, 2014. Brown, Jonathan A. C. Muhammad: A Very Short Introduction. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011. Bulliet, Richard W. “Conversion-Based Patronage and Onomastic Evidence in Early Islam.” In Patronate and Patronage in Early and Classical Islam, edited by Monique Bernards and John Nawas, 246–262. Leiden: Brill, 2005. Bulliet, Richard W. “Conversion Stories in Early Islam.” In Conversion and Continuity: Indigenous Christian Communities in Islamic Lands Eighth to Eighteenth Centuries, edited by M. Gervers and J. Bikhazi, 123–133. Papers in Mediaeval Studies 9. Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies, 1990. Bulliet, Richard W. Conversion to Islam in the Medieval Period: An Essay in Quantitative History. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1979. Burāqī, Ḥusayn Aḥmad al-. Tārīkh al-Kūfa. Edited by Muḥammad Ṣādiq. Beirut: Dār al- aḍwā’, 1407/1987. Carruthers, Mary J. The Book of Memory: A Study of Memory in Medieval Culture. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008. Chokr, Melhem. Zandaqa et zindīqs en islam au second siècle de l’hégire. Paris: Presses de l’Ifpo, 2014. Christys, Ann Rosemary. Christians in Al- Andalus (711– 1000). 2002; London: Routledge, 2013. Clanchy, M. T. From Memory to Written Record: England, 1066–1307. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1979. Clarence-Smith, William G. Islam and the Abolition of Slavery. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006. Cobb, Paul, ed. The Lineaments of Islam: Studies in Honor of Fred McGraw Donner. Leiden: Brill, 2012. Colbert, Edward P. The Martyrs of Córdoba (850–859): A Study of the Sources. Washington, DC: Catholic University of America Press, 1962. Conrad, Lawrence I. “Recovering Lost Texts: Some Methodological Issues.” Journal of the American Oriental Society 113, no. 2 (1993): 258–263. Cook, David. “Apostasy from Islam: A Historical Perspective.” Jerusalem Studies in Arabic and Islam 31 (2006): 248–288. Cook, David. Martyrdom in Islam. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007. Cook, David. Understanding Jihad. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2005. Cook, Michael. Commanding Right and Forbidding Wrong in Islamic Thought. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001.
268 Works Cited Coope, Jessica A. The Martyrs of Cordoba: Community and Family Conflict in an Age of Mass Conversion. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1995. Coope, Jessica A. The Most Noble of People: Religious, Ethnic, and Gender Identity in Muslim Spain. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2017. Coope, Jessica A. “Muslim-Christian Relations in Ninth Century Cordoba.” Ph.D. dissertation, University of California, Berkeley, 1988. Coope, Jessica A. “Religious and Cultural Conversion to Islam in Ninth- Century Umayyad Córdoba.” Journal of World History 4, no. 1 (1993): 47–68. Cooperson, Michael. Al-Ma’mūn. Makers of the Muslim World. Oxford: Oneworld, 2005. Cooperson, Michael. Classical Arabic Biography: The Heirs of the Prophets in the Age of al- Ma’mūn. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000. Corbin, Henry. History of Islamic Philosophy. Translated by Liadain Sherrard and Philip Sherrard. London: Islamic Publications for the Institute of Ismaili Studies, 1993. Crone, Patricia. “‘Even an Ethiopian Slave’: The Transformation of a Sunnī Tradition.” BSOAS 57 (1994): 59–67. Crone, Patricia. God’s Rule: Government and Islam. New York: Columbia University Press, 2004. Crone, Patricia. “How Did the Qur’ānic Pagans Make a Living?” Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London, 68, no. 3 (2005): 387–399. Crone, Patricia. “Mawālī and the Prophet’s Family: An Early Shīᶜite View.” In Patronate and Patronage in Early and Classical Islam, edited by M. Bernards and J. Nawas, 167– 194. Leiden; Boston: Brill, 2005. Crone, Patricia. Meccan Trade and the Rise of Islam. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1987. Crone, Patricia. Medieval Islamic Political Thought. 2004; Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2014. Crone, Patricia. The Nativist Prophets of Early Islamic Iran: Rural Revolt and Local Zoroastrianism. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012. Crone, Patricia. “Pagan Arabs as God-fearers.” In Islam and Its Past: Jahiliyya, Late Antiquity, and the Qur’an, edited by Carol Bakhos and Michael Cook, 140–164. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2017. Crone, Patricia. “Review of Sayf ibn ᶜUmar’s Kitāb al-Ridda wa’l-Futūḥ and Kitāb al-Jamal wa masīr ᶜĀ’isha wa ᶜAlī.” JRAS Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society 6, no. 2 (1996): 237–240. Crone, Patricia. Slaves on Horses: The Evolution of the Islamic Polity. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1980. Crone, Patricia, and Martin Hinds. God’s Caliph: Religious Authority in the First Centuries of Islam. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1986. Crook, Zeba A. Reconceptualising Conversion: Patronage, Loyalty, and Conversion in the Religions of the Ancient Mediterranean. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 2004. Dabashi, Hamid. Shiᶜism: A Religion of Protest. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2011. Dakake, Maria Massi. “Loyalty, Love and Faith: Defining the Boundaries of the Early Shiᶜite Community.” Ph.D. dissertation, Princeton University, 2000. Dakake, Maria Massi. “Writing and Resistance: The Transmission of Religious Knowledge in Early Shiᶜism.” In The Study of Shiᶜi Islam: History, Theology and Law, edited by Gurdofarid Miskinzoda and Farhad Daftary, 181–201. London: I. B.Tauris, 2014. Daneshgar, Majid, and Aaron W. Hughes, eds. Deconstructing Islamic Studies. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2020.
Works Cited 269 Dangar, Suleman Essop. The Career of Abū Sufyān Before and After His Conversion to Islam. Westville: University of Durban-Westville, 1987. Daniel, Norman. Islam and the West: The Making of an Image. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1960. Danto, Elizabeth Ann. Historical Research. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008. Dashti, Ali. Twenty Three Years: A Study of the Prophetic Career of Mohammad. London: Routledge, 2013. Ḍayf, Shawqī. al-ᶜAṣr al-ᶜabbāsī al-awwal. Cairo: Dār al-maᶜārif, 1966. Décobert, Christian. Le Mendiant et le combatant: L’institution de l’islam. Paris: Ed. du Seuil, 1991. de Nicola, Bruno, Sara Nur Yıldız, and A. C. S. Peacock. Islam and Christianity in Medieval Anatolia. Aldershot, UK: Ashgate, 2015. Dennett, Daniel C. Conversion and the Poll Tax in Early Islam. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1950. DeWeese, Devin A. Islamization and Native Religion in the Golden Horde: Baba Tükles and Conversion to Islam in Historical and Epic Tradition. University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1994. Djait, Hichem. al-Fitna. Translated by Khalīl Aḥmad Khalīl. 1991; Beirut: Dār al-ṭalīᶜa,2000. Djait, Hichem. Tārīkhiyyat al-daᶜwa al-Muḥammadiyya fī Makka. Beirut: Dār al-ṭalīᶜa, 2007. Donner, Fred McGraw. The Early Islamic Conquests. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1981. Donner, Fred McGraw, ed. The Expansion of the Early Islamic State, The Formation of the Classical Islamic World, 5. Aldershot, UK: Ashgate, 2008. Donner, Fred McGraw. “The Formation of the Islamic State.” JAOS 86 (1986): 283–296. Donner, Fred McGraw. “From Believers to Muslims: Confessional Self-Identity in the Early Islamic Community.” Al-Abḥāth, nos. 50–51 (2002–2003): 9–53. Donner, Fred McGraw. Muhammad and the Believers: At the Origins of Islam. Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2010. Donner, Fred McGraw. Narratives of Islamic Origins: The Beginnings of Islamic Historical Writing. Princeton, NJ: Darwin Press, 1998. Donner, Fred McGraw. “Periodization as a Tool of the Historian with Special Reference to Islamic History.” Der Islam 91, no. 1 (2014): 20–36. Donner, Fred McGraw. “Review of Parable and Politics in Early Islamic History: The Rāshidūn Caliphs by Tayeb el-Hibri.” International Journal of Middle East Studies 43, no. 3 (August 2011): 570–571. Donner, Fred McGraw. “Talking about Islam’s Origins.” Bulletin of SOAS 81, no. 1 (2018): 1–23. Donner, Fred McGraw. “Umayyad Efforts at Legitimation: The Umayyads’ Silent Heritage.” In Umayyad Legacies, edited by Antoine Borrut and Paul M. Cobb, 187–211. Leiden: Brill, 2010. Duque, Adriano. “Claiming Martyrdom in the Episode of the Martyrs of Córdoba.” Collectanea Christiana Orientalia 8 (2011): 23–48. Dūrī, ᶜAbd al-ᶜAzīz al-. al-ᶜAṣr al-ᶜabbāsī al-awwal: Dirāsa fī al-tārīkh al-siyāsī wa-l-idārī wa-l-mālī. 1945; Beirut: Dār al-ṭalīᶜa li-l-ṭibāᶜa wa-l-nashr, 1997. Dūrī, ᶜAbd al-ᶜAzīz al-. al-Judhūr al-tārīkhiyya li-l-shuᶜūbiyya. 1962; Beirut: Dār al-ṭalīᶜa li-l-ṭibāᶜa wa-l-nashr, 1983.
270 Works Cited Dūrī, ᶜAbd al-ᶜAzīz al-. Baḥth fī nash’at ᶜilm al-ta’rīkh ᶜind al-ᶜArab. Beirut: al-Maṭbaᶜa al-kāthūlīkiyya, 1960. Dūrī, ᶜAbd al-ᶜAzīz al-. The Rise of Historical Writing among the Arabs. Translated by Lawrence I. Conrad. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1983. Eaton, Richard M. The Rise of Islam and the Bengal Frontier, 1204– 1760. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1996. El Cheikh, Nadia Maria. Women, Islam, and Abbasid Identity. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2015. Enayat, Hamid. Modern Islamic Political Thought. 1982; London: I. B.Tauris, 2005. Encyclopaedia of Islam, 3rd ed. Edited by Kate Fleet, Gudrun Krämer, Denis Matringe, John Nawas, and Everett Rowson. Leiden: Brill, 2007–. Eph’al, Israel. The Ancient Arabs: Nomads on the Borders of the Fertile Crescent, 9th–5th Centuries b.c. Leiden: Brill, 1982. Esposito, John L. Islam and Politics. Syracuse, NY: Syracuse University Press, 1984. Faizer, Rizwi Shuhadha. “Ibn Isḥāq and al-Wāqidī Revisited: A Case Study of Muḥammad and the Jews in Biographical Literature.” Ph.D. dissertation, McGill University, 1995. Faizer, Rizwi Shuhadha. “Muhammad and the Medinan Jews: A Comparison of the Texts of Ibn Isḥāq’s Kitāb Sīrat Rasūl Allāh with al-Wāqidī’s Kitāb al-Maghāzī.” International Journal of Middle East Studies 28, no. 4 (1996): 463–489. Fāᶜūrī, Amjad al- . Dīwān al-maẓālim fī al- ᶜaṣr al- ᶜabbāsī. Amman: Dār Khālid al-Liḥyānī, 2016. Fentress, James, and Chris Wickham. Social Memory: New Perspectives on the Past. Cambridge, UK: Blackwell, 1992. Fleming, Benjamin, and Richard Mann, eds. Material Culture and Asian Religions: Text, Image, Object. New York: Routledge, 2014. Foot, Sarah, and Chase F. Robinson, eds. The Oxford History of Historical Writing. Vol. 2. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012. Fox, Yaniv, and Yosi Yisraeli, eds. Contesting Inter-Religious Conversion in the Medieval World. New York: Routledge, 2016. Frantz-Murphy, Gladys. “Conversion in Early Islamic Egypt: The Economic Factor.” In Documents de l’Islam médiéval: Nouvelles perspectives de recherché, edited by Yūsuf Rāġib, 11–17. Cairo: Institut français d’archéologie orientale, 1991. Friedman, Yaron. The Nuṣayrī-ᶜAlawīs: An Introduction to the Religion, History, and Identity of the Leading Minority in Syria. Leiden: Brill, 2010. Gabriel, Richard A. Muhammad: Islam’s First Great General. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 2014. Gaudefroy-Demombynes, Maurice. Muslim Institutions. Translated by John P. Macgregor. London: George Allen & Unwin, 1955. Geary, Patrick J. Phantoms of Remembrance: Memory and Oblivion at the End of the First Millennium. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1994. Genette, Gérard. Narrative Discourse: An Essay in Method. Translated by Jane E. Lewin. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1980. Gibb, Hamilton A. R. Mohammedanism. New York: Oxford University Press, 1962. Gibb, Hamilton A. R. Studies on the Civilization of Islam. Edited by Stanford J. Shaw and William R. Polk. 1962; Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1982. Gilliot, Claude. Exégèse, langue et théologie en Islam: L’exégèse coranique de Tabari (M. 311/923). Paris: Vrin, 1990.
Works Cited 271 Gilliot, Claude. “Récit, mythe et histoire chez Ṭabarī: Une vision mythique de l’histoire universelle.” MIDEO, no. 21 (1993): 277–289. Goitein, Shelomo Dov. Studies in Islamic History and Institutions. Leiden: Brill, 2010. Goldziher, Ignác. Introduction to Islamic Theology and Law. Translated by Andras and Ruth Hamori. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1981. Goldziher, Ignác. Muslim Studies. 2 vols. Edited and Translated by S. M. Stern. London: George Allen and Unwin, 1967–1971. Gordon, Matthew S., and Kathryn A. Hain, eds. Concubines and Courtesans: Women and Slavery in Islamic History. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2017. Görke, Andreas. “The Relationship between Maghāzī and Ḥadīth in Early Islamic Scholarship.” Bulletin of SOAS 74, no. 2 (2011): 171–185. Görke, Andreas, Harald Motzki, Gregor Schoeler, and Bertram Thompson. “First Century Sources for the Life of Muhammad: A Debate.” Der Islam 89, no. 1 (2012): 2–59. Görke, Andreas, and Gregor Schoeler. “Reconstructing the Earliest Sīra Texts: The Higra in the Corpus of ᶜUrwa b. al-Zubayr.” Der Islam 82 (2005): 209–220. Gruber, Christiane J., and Avinoam Shalem, eds. The Image of the Prophet between Ideal and Ideology. Berlin: De Gruyter, 2013. Guillaume, Alfred. New Light on the Life of Muḥammad. Manchester, UK: Manchester University Press, 1983. Guillaume, Alfred. “A Note on the Sīra of Ibn Isḥāq.” Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies 18, no. 1 (1956): 1–4. Ḥabīb, Yāsir al-. al-Fāḥisha: al-wajh al-ākhar li-ᶜĀ’isha. London: Khuddam al-Mahdi Organisation, 2010. Haddad, Yvonne Yazbeck, and John L Esposito, eds. Daughters of Abraham: Feminist Thought in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 2001. Hagen, Gottfried. “The Imagined and the Historical Muhammad.” Journal of the American Oriental Society 129, no. 1 (January–March 2009): 97–111. Hakim, Avraham. “Muḥammad’s Authority and Leadership Reestablished: The Prophet and ᶜUmar ibn al-Khaṭṭāb.” Revue de l’histoire des religions 226, no. 2 (2009): 181–200. Halbwachs, Maurice. On Collective Memory. Translated by Lewis A. Coser. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1992. Halm, Heinz. Shiᶜism. Translated by Janet Watson and Marian Hill. New York: Columbia University Press, 2004. Ḥamad, Muḥammad ᶜAbd al-Ḥamīd al-. al-Zandaqa wa-l-zanādiqa: ta’rīkh wa fikr. Damascus: Dār al-ṭalīᶜa al-jadīda, 1999. Ḥammāmī, Nādir. Islām al-fuqahā’. Beirut: Dār al-ṭalīᶜa li-l-nashr, 2006. Ḥammāmī, Nādir. Ṣūrat al-ṣaḥābī fī kutub al-ḥadīth. Casablanca: al-Markaz al-thaqāfī al-ᶜarabī, 2014. Hashmi, Sohail H., ed. Just Wars, Holy Wars, and Jihads: Christian, Jewish, and Muslim Encounters and Exchanges. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012. Hawting, G. R. The First Dynasty of Islam: The Umayyad Caliphate ad 661–750. New York: Routledge, 2002. Hawting, G. R. “Review of Sayf ibn ᶜUmar’s Kitāb al-Ridda wa’l-Futūḥ and Kitāb al- Jamal wa masīr ᶜĀ’isha wa ᶜAlī: A Facsimile Edition of the Fragments Preserved in the University Library of Imam Muhammad Ibn Saᶜūd Islamic University in Riyadh, Saudi
272 Works Cited Arabia.” Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London 60, no. 3 (1997): 546–547. Hawting, G. R. “Review of The Eye of the Beholder: The Life of Muḥammad as Viewed by the Early Muslims: A Textual Analysis by Uri Rubin.” Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society, 3rd Series, 7, no. 1 (April 1997): 126–129. Haykal, Muḥammad Ḥusayn. al-Fārūq ᶜUmar. Cairo: Maṭbaᶜat al-sunna al-Muḥammadiyya, 1964. Haykal, Muḥammad Ḥusayn. al-Ṣiddīq Abū Bakr. Reprint; Cairo: al-Jihāz al-markazī li-l- kutub al-jāmiᶜiyya, 1402/1982. Haykal, Muḥammad Ḥusayn. Ḥayāt Muḥammad. Cairo: Dār al-maᶜārif, 1977. Haykal, Muḥammad Ḥusayn. The Life of Muhammad. Oak Brook, IL: American Trust Publications, 1976. Haynes, Jeffrey, ed. Routledge Handbook of Religion and Politics. 2009; New York: Routledge, 2016. Hibri, Tayeb el-. Parable and Politics in Early Islamic History: The Rashidun Caliphs. New York: Columbia University Press, 2010. Hibri, Tayeb el-. “The Redemption of Umayyad Memory by the ᶜAbbāsids.” Journal of Near Eastern Studies 61, no. 4 (2002): 241–265. Hibri, Tayeb el-. “The Reign of the ᶜAbbāsid Caliph al-Ma’mūn (811–833): The Quest for Power and the Crisis of Legitimacy.” Ph.D. dissertation, Columbia University, 1994. Hibri, Tayeb el-. Reinterpreting Islamic Historiography: Hārūn al-Rashīd and the Narrative of the ᶜAbbāsid Caliphate. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999. Hibri, Tayeb el. “Review of Religion and Politics under the Early ᶜAbbāsids: The Emergence of the Proto-Sunnī Elite by Muhammad Qasim Zaman.” Journal of the American Oriental Society 120, no. 4 (October–December 2000): 686–687. Hinds, Martin. “Sayf ibn ᶜUmar’s Sources on Arabia.” In Sources for the History of Arabia: Proceedings of the First International Symposium on Studies in the History of Arabia, vol, 2, edited by A. M. Abdalla et al., 3–16. Riyadh: University of Riyadh Press, 1979. Hinds, Martin. Studies in Early Islamic History. Edited by Jere L. Bacharach, Lawrence I. Conrad, and Patricia Crone. Princeton, NJ: Darwin Press, 1996. Hirschler, Konrad. The Written Word in the Medieval Arabic Lands: A Social and Cultural History of Reading Practices. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2013. Hodgson, Marshall G. S. “How Did the Early Shīᶜa Become Sectarian?” Journal of the American Oriental Society 75, no. 1 (1955): 1–13. Horsley, G. H. R. “Name Change as an Indication of Religious Conversion in Antiquity.” Numen 34, no. 1 (June 1987): 1–17. Howard-Johnston, James. Witnesses to a World Crisis: Historians and Histories of the Middle East in the Seventh Century. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011. Hoyland, Robert G. Arabia and the Arabs: From the Bronze Age to the Coming of Islam. London: Routledge, 2001. Hoyland, Robert G. “Arabic, Syriac and Greek Historiography in the First ᶜAbbāsid Century: An Inquiry into Inter-Cultural Traffic.” ARAM 3, nos. 1–2 (1991): 211–233. Hoyland, Robert G. “History, Fiction and Authorship in the First Centuries of Islam.” In Writing and Representation in Medieval Islam: Muslim Horizons, edited by Julia Bray, 16– 46. Routledge Studies in Middle Eastern Literatures. New York: Routledge, 2006.
Works Cited 273 Hoyland, Robert G. In God’s Path: The Arab Conquests and the Creation of an Islamic Empire. Ancient Warfare and Civilization. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2015. Hoyland, Robert G. “Reflections on the Identity of the Arabian Conquerors of the Seventh-Century Middle East.” Al-ᶜUṣūr al-wusṭā 25 (2017): 113–140. Hoyland, Robert G. “Review of Fred Donner’s Muhammad and the Believers.” International Journal of Middle East Studies 44, no. 3 (2012): 573–576. Hoyland, Robert G. Seeing Islam as Others Saw It: A Survey and Evaluation of Christian, Jewish, and Zoroastrian Writings on Early Islam. Studies in Late Antiquity and Early Islam, 13. Princeton, NJ: Darwin Press, 1997. Huart, Clement. A History of Arabic Literature. New York: D. Appleton, 1903. Hughes, Aaron W. Muslim Identities: An Introduction to Islam. New York: Columbia University Press, 2013. Humphreys, R. Stephen. Islamic History: A Framework for Inquiry. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1991. Humphreys, R. Stephen. Muᶜawiya ibn Abi Sufyan: The Savior of the Caliphate. Oxford: Oneworld, 2012. Hurvitz, Nimrod. “Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal and the Formation of Islamic Orthodoxy.” Ph.D. dissertation, Princeton University, 1994. Hurvitz, Nimrod. The Formation of Ḥanbalism. Culture and Civilisation in the Middle East. London: Routledge Curzon, 2002. Hurvitz, Nimrod. “The Miḥna (Inquisition) and the Public Sphere.” In The Public Sphere in Muslim Societies, edited by Miriam Hoexter, Shmuel N. Eisenstadt, and Nehemia Levtzion, 17–29. New York: SUNY Press, 2012. Ḥusayn, Abū Lubāba. al-Sunna al-nabawiyya waḥy. Medina: Dār al-malik Fahd, n.d. Ḥusayn, Abū Lubāba. Mawqif al-muᶜtazila min al-sunna al-nabawiyya. Riyadh: Dār al- liwā’ li-l-nashr wa-l-tawzīᶜ, 1407/1987. Ḥusayn, Ṭāhā. al-Fitna al-kubrā 2: ᶜAlī wa banūh. Cairo: Dār al-maᶜārif, n.d. Ḥusayn, Ṭāhā. al-Fitna al-kubrā: ᶜUthmān. Cairo: Dār al-maᶜārif, 1947. Ḥusayn, Ṭāhā. al-Shaykhān. 3rd ed. Cairo: Dār al-maᶜārif, 1966. Ḥusaynī, Idrīs al-. al-Khilāfa al-mughtaṣaba. Casablanca: Dār al-khalīj li-l-ṭibāᶜa wa-l- nashr, 1416/1996. Hutton, Patrick H. History as an Art of Memory. Hanover, NH: University Press of New England, 1993. Ibn Warraq, ed. The Quest for the Historical Muhammad. Amherst, NY: Prometheus Books, 2000. Ibrahim, Ayman S. The Stated Motivations for the Early Islamic Expansion (622–641): A Critical Revision of Muslims’ Traditional Portrayal of the Arab Raids and Conquests. Crosscurrents: New Studies on the Middle East. Series editors, J. Kevin Lacey and Sari Nusseibeh. New York: Peter Lang, 2018. Innes, Matthew. “Memory, Orality and Literacy in an Early Medieval Society.” Past & Present, no. 158 (1998): 3–36. Jābrī, Muḥammad ᶜĀbid al- . 1971; Fikr Ibn Khaldūn: al- ᶜAṣabiyya wa-l-dawla. Beirut: Markaz dirāsāt al-wiḥda al-ᶜarabiyya, 1994. Jābrī, Muḥammad ᶜĀbid al-. Naḥn wa-l-turāth. 1980; Beirut: al- Markaz al- thaqāfī al-ᶜarabī, 1993. Jackson, Roy. Fifty Key Figures in Islam. London: Routledge, 2006. Jadᶜān, Fahmī. al-Miḥna: baḥth fī jadaliyyat al-dīnī wa-l-siyāsī fī al-islām. 1989; Beirut: al- shabaka al-ᶜarabiyya li-l-abḥāth wa-l-nashr, 2014.
274 Works Cited James, William. The Varieties of Religious Experience: A Study in Human Nature. New York: Modern Library, 1902. Jamīlī, al-Sayyid al-. Nisā’ al-nabī. Beirut: Dār al-hilāl, 1416/1996. Jayyusi, Salma Khadra, ed. Classical Arabic Stories: An Anthology. New York: Columbia University Press, 2012. Jenkins, Everett. The Muslim Diaspora: A Comprehensive Chronology of the Spread of Islam in Asia, Africa, Europe and the Americas. Vol. 1 (570–1500). Jefferson, NC: McFarland, 2010. Joseph, Suad, Afsaneh Najmabadi, and Jane Smith, eds. Encyclopedia of Women and Islamic Cultures. 6 vols. Leiden: Brill, 2003–2007. Judd, Steven. Religious Scholars and the Umayyads: Piety-Minded Supporters of the Marwānid Caliphate. New York: Routledge, 2013. Juynboll, G. H. A. Encyclopedia of the Canonical Ḥadīth. Leiden: Brill, 2007. Juynboll, G. H. A. Muslim Tradition: Studies in Chronology, Provenance and Authorship of Early Ḥadīth. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1985. Kaegi, Walter Emil. Byzantium and the Early Islamic Conquests. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992. Kaḥḥāla, ᶜUmar Riḍā. Muᶜjam al-mu’alifīn. 13 vols. Beirut: Dār iḥyā’ al-turāth al-ᶜarabī, n.d. Kamaly, Hossein. “Four Moments in the Early Islamic History of Isfahan.” Ph.D. dissertation, Columbia University, 2004. Keaney, Heather. “Confronting the Caliph: ᶜUthmān b. ᶜAffān in Three ᶜAbbāsid Chronicles.” Studia Islamica, new series, no. 1 (2011): 37–65. Keaney, Heather. “Remembering Rebellion: ᶜUthmān b. ᶜAffān in Medieval Islamic Historiography.” Ph.D. dissertation, University of California, 2003. Kennedy, Hugh. The Armies of the Caliphs: Military and Society in the Early Islamic State. New York: Routledge, 2013. Kennedy, Hugh. Caliphate: The History of an Idea. New York: New Books, 2016. Kennedy, Hugh. The Early Abbasid Caliphate: A Political History. 1981; London: Routledge, 2016. Kennedy, Hugh. The Great Arab Conquests: How the Spread of Islam Changed the World We Live In. Philadelphia, PA: Da Capo, 2007. Kennedy, Hugh. The Prophet and the Age of the Caliphates: The Islamic Near East from the Sixth to the Eleventh Century. 1986; Harlow, UK: Longman, 2004. Keshk, Khaled. “The Depiction of Muᶜāwiya in the Early Islamic Sources.” Ph.D. dissertation, University of Chicago, 2002. Keshk, Khaled. The Historian’s Muᶜāwiya: The Depiction of Muᶜāwiya in the Early Islamic Sources. Saarbrücken, Germany: VDM Verlag Dr. Müller, 2008. Keshk, Khaled. “When Did Muᶜāwiya Become Caliph?” Journal of Near Eastern Studies 69, no. 1 (April 2010): 31–42. Khalidi, Tarif. Arabic Historical Thought in the Classical Period. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994. Khalidi, Tarif. Images of Muhammad: Narratives of the Prophet in Islam across the Centuries. New York: Crown, 2009. Khalidi, Tarif. Islamic Historiography: The Histories of Masᶜūdī. New York: SUNY Press, 1975. Khoury, R. G. “Sources islamiques de la ‘Sīra.’” In La Vie du Prophete Mahomet: Colloque de Strasbourg, October 1980, 7–30. Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1983.
Works Cited 275 Khuḍarī, Muḥammad al-. al-Dawla al-ᶜabbāsiyya. Edited by Muḥammad al-ᶜUthmānī. 1938; Beirut: Dār al-qalam, 1406/1986. Khuḍarī, Muḥammad al-. al-Dawla al-umawiyya. Edited by Muḥammad al-ᶜUthmānī. 1938; Beirut: Dār al-qalam, 1406/1986. Kindt, Tom, and Hans-Harald Müller, eds. What Is Narratology? Questions and Answers regarding the Status of a Theory. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 2003. Kister, M. J. “Land Property and Jihād: A Discussion of Some Early Traditions.” Journal of the Economic and Social History of the Orient 34, no. 3 (1991): 270–311. Kister, M. J. “The Massacre of the Banū Qurayẓa: A Re-Examination of a Tradition.” Jerusalem Studies in Arabic and Islam 8 (1986): 61–96. Kohlberg, Etan. “Barā’a in Shīᶜī Doctrine.” Jerusalem Studies in Arabic and Islam 7 (1986): 139–175. Kohlberg, Etan. “Some Imami-Shiᶜi Views on Taqiyya.” Journal of the American Oriental Society 95 (1975): 395–402. Kohlberg, Etan. “The Term ‘Rāfiḍa’ in Imami Shīᶜī Usage.” Journal of the American Oriental Society 99 (1979): 1–9. Köse, Ali. “The Assessment of Various Factors in the Spread of Islam During the Medieval Period.” Islâm Araştırmaları Dergisi, sy. 1, İstanbul (1997): 65–89. Krämer, Gudrun, et al., eds. Encyclopædia of Islam. 3rd ed. Leiden: Brill, 2007–. Kūrānī al-ᶜĀmilī, ᶜAlī al-. Ajwibat masā’il jaysh al-ṣaḥāba. Beirut: Dār al-sīra, 1423/ 2002. Kurzman, Charles. Liberal Islam: A Source Book. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998. Lakhani, M. Ali, Reza Shah-Kazemi, and Leonard Lewisohn. The Sacred Foundations of Justice in Islam: The Teachings of ᶜAlī Ibn Abī Ṭālib. Bloomington, Indiana: World Wisdom, 2006. Landau- Tasseron, Ella. “On the Reconstruction of Lost Sources.” Al-Qanṭara 25 (2004): 45–91. Landau-Tasseron, Ella. “Processes of Redaction: The Case of the Tamīmite Delegation to the Prophet Muḥammad.” Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies 49, no. 2 (1986): 253–270. Landau-Tasseron, Ella. “Sayf Ibn ᶜUmar in Medieval and Modern Scholarship.” Der Islam 67, no. 1 (1990): 1–26. Lang, Katherine H. “Awā’il in Early Arabic Historiography: Beginnings and Identity in the Middle ᶜAbbāsid Empire.” Ph.D. dissertation, University of Chicago, 1997. Lapidus, Ira M. A History of Islamic Societies. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2014. Lapidus, Ira M. Islamic Societies to the Nineteenth Century: A Global History. 1988; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012. Lapidus, Ira M. “The Separation of State and Religion in the Development of Early Islamic Society.” International Journal of Middle East Studies 6, no. 4 (October 1975): 363–385. Lassner, Jacob. Islamic Revolution and Historical Memory: An Inquiry into the Art of ᶜAbbāsid Apologetics. Ann Arbor, Michigan: American Oriental Society, 1986. Lassner, Jacob. Jews, Christians, and the Abode of Islam: Modern Scholarship, Medieval Realities. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2012. Lassner, Jacob. Medieval Jerusalem: Forging an Islamic City in Spaces Sacred to Christians and Jews. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2017. Lassner, Jacob. The Middle East Remembered: Forged Identities, Competing Narratives, Contested Spaces. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2000.
276 Works Cited Lassner, Jacob. The Shaping of ᶜAbbāsid Rule. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2017. Lawson, Todd, ed. Reason and Inspiration in Islam: Essays in Honour of Hermann Landolt. London: I. B.Tauris, 2005. Leaman, Oliver, ed. The Qur’ān: An Encyclopedia. London: Taylor & Francis, 2006. Lecker, Michael. The “Constitution of Medina”: Muḥammad’s First Legal Document. Princeton, NJ: Darwin Press, 2004. Lecker, Michael. “The Ḥudaybiyya-Treaty and the Expedition against Khaybar.” Jerusalem Studies in Arabic and Islam 5 (1984): 1–11. Lecker, Michael. “Idol Worship in Pre- Islamic Medina (Yathrib).” Le Museon 106 (1993): 331–346. Lecker, Michael. Jews and Arabs in Pre-and Early Islamic Arabia. Aldershot, UK: Ashgate, 1998. Lecker, Michael. Muslims, Jews and Pagans: Studies on Early Islamic Medina. Leiden: Brill, 1995. Lecker, Michael. “Notes about Censorship and Self-Censorship in the Biography of the Prophet Muḥammad.” Al-Qanṭara 35, no. 1 (2014): 233–254. Lecker, Michael. “A Review of The Expeditions: An Early Biography of Muḥammad by Maᶜmar Ibn Rāshid, edited and translated by Sean W. Anthony.” Journal of the American Oriental Society 135, no. 4 (2015): 854–857. Lecker, Michael. “A Review of The Life of Muḥammad: Al-Wāqidī’s Kitāb al-Maghāzī, edited by Rizwi Faizer.” Journal of the American Oriental Society 133, no. 4 (2013): 717–719. Lecker, Michael. “Wāqidī’s Account on the Status of the Jews of Medina: A Study of a Combined Report.” Journal of Near Eastern Studies 54, no. 1 (1995): 15–32. Lecker, Michael. “Was Arabian Idol Worship Declining on the Eve of Islam?” Translation of a lecture delivered at Yad Ben Zvi, Jerusalem, 1999. Leedy, Paul D., and Jeanne Ellis Ormrod. Practical Research: Planning and Design. Upper Saddle River, NJ: Prentice Hall, 2005. Leithy, Tamer el-. “Coptic Culture and Conversion in Medieval Cairo, 1293–1524 a.d.” Ph.D. dissertation, Princeton University, 2005. Leone, Massimo. Religious Conversion and Identity: The Semiotic Analysis of Texts. London: Routledge, 2004. Lewis, Bernard. The Jews of Islam. London: Routledge, 2010. Lewis, Bernard. Race and Color in Islam. New York: Harper & Row, 1971. Lewis, Bernard. “The Regnal Titles of the First ᶜAbbāsid Caliphs.” In Dr. Zakir Husain Presentation Volume, edited by Zakir Husain, 13–22. New Delhi: Dr. Zakir Husain Presentation Volume Committee, 1968. Levtzion, Nehemia, ed. Conversion to Islam. New York: Holmes & Meier, 1979. Levy, Reuben. The Social Structure of Islam. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1971. Levy-Rubin, Milka. Non- Muslims in the Early Islamic Empire: From Surrender to Coexistence. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011. Lindsay, James E., ed. Ibn ᶜAsākir and Early Islamic History. Princeton, NJ: Darwin Press, 2001. Lindstedt, Ilkka. “Al- Madā’inī and the Narratives of the ᶜAbbāsid Dawla.” Studia Orientalia Electronica 5 (2017): 65–150. Lings, Martin. Muhammad: His Life Based on the Earliest Sources. Rochester, NY: Inner Traditions City, 1987.
Works Cited 277 Little, Donald P. “Narrative Themes and Devices in al-Wāqidī’s Kitāb al-maghāzī.” In Reason and Inspiration in Islam: Essays in Honour of Hermann Landolt, edited by Todd Lawson, 34–45. London: I. B.Tauris, 2005. Lofland, John, and Rodney Stark. “Becoming a World-Saver: A Theory of Conversion to a Deviant Perspective.” American Sociological Review 30, no. 6 (1965): 862–875. Lowry, Joseph Edmund. Early Islamic Legal Theory: The Risāla of Muḥammad Ibn Idrīs Al-Shāfiᶜī. Leiden: Brill, 2007. Lucas, Scott C. Constructive Critics, Ḥadīth Literature, and the Articulation of Sunnī Islam: The Legacy of the Generation of Ibn Saᶜd, Ibn Maᶜīn, and Ibn Ḥanbal. Leiden: Brill, 2004. Madelung, Wilferd. The Succession to Muhammad: A Study of the Early Caliphate. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997. Majlisī, Muḥammad Bāqir al-. Biḥār al-anwār. 110 vols. Edited by ᶜAbd al-Raḥīm al- Shīrāzī et al. Beirut: Dār iḥiyā’ al-turāth, 1983. Makdisi, George, ed. Arabic and Islamic Studies in Honor of Hamilton A. R. Gibb. Leiden: Brill, 1965. Makin, Al. Representing the Enemy: Musaylima in Muslim Literature. New York: Peter Lang, 2010. Margoliouth, David Samuel. Mohammed and the Rise of Islam. New York: G. P. Putnam, 1905. Marsham, Andrew. Rituals of Islamic Monarchy: Accession and Succession in the First Muslim Empire. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2009. Martin, Richard C., ed. Approaches to Islam in Religious Studies. Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 1985. Martin, Richard C., Mark R. Woodward, and Dwi S. Atmaja. Defenders of Reason in Islam: Muᶜtazilism from Medieval School to Modern Symbol. Oxford: Oneworld, 1997. Martinez-Gros, Gabriel. L’idéologie Omeyyade: La construction de la légitimité du califat de Cordoue (Xe–XIe Siècles). Madrid: Casa de Velázquez, 1992. McAuliffe, Jane Dammen, ed. The Cambridge Companion to the Qur’ān. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006. McAuliffe, Jane. “Christians in the Qur’ān and Tafsīr.” In Muslim Perceptions of Other Religions, edited by Jacques Waardenburgh, 105–121. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999. McAuliffe, Jane Dammen, ed. Encyclopaedia of the Qur’ān. 6 vols. Leiden: Brill, 2001–2006. McDowell, Bill. Historical Research: A Guide for Writers of Dissertations, Theses, Articles and Books. London: Routledge, 2013. Meisami, Julie Scott, and Paul Starkey, eds. Encyclopedia of Arabic Literature. Vol. 2. London: Routledge, 1998. Melchert, Christopher. Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal. Makers of the Muslim World. Oxford: Oneworld, 2006. Melchert, Christopher. “Aḥmad Ibn Ḥanbal and the Qur’ān.” Journal of Qur’ānic Studies 6, no. 2 (2004): 22–34. Melchert, Christopher. “Basra and Kufa: Earliest Centers of Islamic Legal Controversy.” In Islamic Cultures, Islamic Contexts: Essays in Honor of Professor Patricia Crone, edited by Behnam Sadeghi, Asad Q. Ahmed, Adam Silverstein, and Robert Hoyland, 173–191. Leiden: Brill, 2015. Melchert, Christopher. The Formation of the Sunnī Schools of Law. Studies in Islamic Law and Society 4. Leiden: Brill, 1997.
278 Works Cited Mendelsohn, Isaac. Slavery in the Ancient Near East. New York: Oxford University Press, 1949. Meri, Josef W., and Jere L. Bacharach, eds. Medieval Islamic Civilization: An Encyclopedia. New York: Routledge, 2006. Meri, Yousef W. “Review of Jews, Christians, and the Abode of Islam: Modern Scholarship, Medieval Realities by Jacob Lassner.” Speculum 90, no. 4 (October 2015): 1141–1143. Mernissi, Fatima. Women and Islam: An Historical and Theological Enquiry. Translated by Mary Jo Lakeland. Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1991. Millward, William G. “The Adaptation of Men to Their Time: An Historical Essay by al- Yaᶜqūbī.” Journal of the American Oriental Society 84, no. 4 (1964): 329–344. Millward, William Guy. “A Study of al-Yaᶜqubī with Special Reference to His Alleged Shīᶜa Bias.” Ph.D. dissertation, Princeton University, 1962. Miskinzoda, Gurdofarid, and Farhad Daftary, eds. The Study of Shiᶜi Islam: History, Theology and Law. London: I. B.Tauris, 2014. Modarressi, Hossein. Tradition and Survival: A Bibliographical Survey of Early Shīᶜite Literature. Oxford: Oneworld, 2003. Montgomery, James Edward, ed. ᶜAbbasid Studies: Occasional Papers of the School of ᶜAbbasid Studies, Cambridge, 6–10 July 2002. Leuven: Peeters, 2004. Moosa, Matti. Extremist Shiites: The Ghulat Sects. Syracuse: Syracuse University Press, 1988. Morony, Michael G. “The Age of Conversions: A Reassessment.” In Conversion and Continuity: Indigenous Christian Communities in Islamic Lands Eighth to Eighteenth Centuries, edited by M. Gervers and J. Bikhazi, 135–150. Papers in Mediaeval Studies, 9. Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies, 1990. Morrison, Karl. Understanding Conversion. Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia, 1992. Motzki, Harald. Analysing Muslim Traditions: Studies in Legal, Exegetical and Maghāzī Ḥadīth. Leiden: Brill, 2010. Motzki, Harald. “Dating Muslim Traditions: A Survey.” Arabica 52, no. 2 (2005): 204–253. Motzki, Harald. “Der Fiqh des Zuhrī: Die Quellenprobiematik.” Der Islam 68 (1991): 1–44. Motzki, Harald, ed. Ḥadīth: Origins and Developments. New York: Routledge, 2016. Motzki, Harald. “The Muṣannaf of ᶜAbd al-Razzāq al-Ṣanᶜānī as a Source of Authentic Aḥādīth of First Century a.h.” Journal of Near Eastern Studies 50, 1 (1991): 1–21. Motzki, Harald. The Origins of Islamic Jurisprudence. Translated by Marion Holmes Katz. Leiden: Brill, 2002. Mourad, Suleiman. Early Islam Between Myth and History: Al- Ḥasan al-Baṣrī (d. 110H/ 728CE) and the Formation of His Legacy in Classical Islamic Scholarship. Leiden: Brill, 2006. Mourad, Suleiman A. “On Early Islamic Historiography: Abū Ismāᶜīl al-Azdī and His Futūḥ al-Shām.” Journal of the American Oriental Society 120, no. 4 (2000): 577–593. Muᶜattiq, ᶜAwwād ibn ᶜAbdullāh al-. al-Muᶜtazila wa uṣūluhum al-khamsa wa mawqif ahl al-sunna minhā. Riyadh: Dār al-rushd, 1416/1995. Muir, William. The Life of Mahomet. London: Smith, Elder, 1861. Muir, William, and Thomas Hunter Weir. The Caliphate, Its Rise, Decline, and Fall: From Original Sources. Edinburgh: J. Grant, 1924. Mu’nis, Ḥusayn. Tanqiyat uṣūl al-tārīkh al-islāmī. Cairo: Dār al-rashād, 1997. Musᶜad, Muḥammad Fatḥī. The Wives of the Prophet Muhammad: Their Strives and Their Lives. Cairo: Dār al-tawzīᶜ wa-l-nashr al-islāmiyya, 2001.
Works Cited 279 Muṣṭafā, Shākir. al-Ta’rīkh al-ᶜ arabī wa-l-mu’arrikhūn: dirāsa fī taṭawwur ᶜilm al-ta’rīkh wa maᶜrifat rijālih fī al-islām. 3rd ed. 3 vols. Beirut: Dār al-ᶜilm lil-malāyīīn, 1983. Mutter, Jessica Sylvan. “By the Book: Conversion and Religious Identity in Early Islamic Bilād al-Shām and al-Jazīra.” Ph.D. dissertation, University of Chicago, 2018. Nader, Nadia Mohamed. “The Memory of the Mihna in a Haunted Time: Dogmatic Theology, Neo-Muᶜtazilism and Islamic Legal Reform.” Ph.D. dissertation, University of California, Santa Barbara, 2011. Naderi, Nader. “The Absolutist State: The Case of the Early Abbasid Caliphate.” Ph.D. dissertation, University of Notre Dame, 1998. Nagel, Tilman. Allahs Liebling: Ursprung und Erscheinungsformen des Mohammedglaubens. Munich: Oldenbourg Wissenschaftsverlag, 2008. Nagel, Tilman. Mohammed: Leben und Legende. Munich: Oldenbourg Wissenschaftsverlag, 2008. Najjār, ᶜAbd al-Wahhāb al-. al-Khulafā’ al-rāshidūn. Edited by Khalīl al-Mays. Beirut: Dār al-qalam, 1414/1993. Nawas, John A., ed. ᶜAbbāsid Studies II: Occasional Papers of the School of ᶜAbbāsid Studies. Leuven: Peeters, 2010. Nawas, John A. Al-Ma’mūn, the Inquisition, and the Quest for Caliphal Authority. Atlanta, GA: Lockwood Press, 2015. Nawas, John A. “The Miḥna of 218 a.h./833 a.d. Revisited: An Empirical Study.” Journal of the American Oriental Society 116, no. 4 (October–December 1996): 698–708. Nawas, John A. “A Reexamination of Three Current Explanations for al-Ma’mūn’s Introduction of the Miḥna.” International Journal of Middle East Studies 26, no. 4 (November 1994): 615–629. Nef, John Ulric. Towards World Community. The Hague: W. Junk, 1968. Neuwirth, Angelika. The Qur’an and Late Antiquity: A Shared Heritage. Translated by Samuel Wilder. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2019. Neuwirth, Angelika, and Michael Sells, eds. Qur’ānic Studies Today. New York: Routledge, 2016. Neuwirth, Angelika, Nicolai Sinai, and Michael Marx, eds. The Qur’ān in Context: Historical and Literary Investigations into the Qur’ānic Milieu. Leiden: Brill, 2010. Newman, Andrew J. The Formative Period of Twelver Shīᶜism: Ḥadīth as Discourse Between Qum and Baghdad. Richmond, UK: Curzon Press, 2000. Nock, Arthur Darby. Conversion: The Old and the New in Religion from Alexander the Great to Augustine of Hippo. London: Oxford University Press, 1933. Noth, Albrecht, and Lawrence I. Conrad. The Early Arabic Historical Tradition: A Source- Critical Study. Princeton, NJ: Darwin Press, 1994. Numani, Shibli. Umar. Makers of Islamic Civilization. London: I. B. Tauris, 2004. Omari, Racha el-. “The Muᶜtazilite Movement (I): The Origins of the Muᶜtazila.” In The Oxford Handbook of Islamic Theology, edited by Sabine Schmidtke, 130–141. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2016. Ouardi, Hela. Les califes maudits: La déchirure. Paris: Albin Michel, 2019. Ouardi, Hela. Les derniers jours de Muhammad. Paris: Albin Michel, 2016. Papaconstantinou, Arietta. “Between Umma and Dhimma. The Christians of the Middle East under the Umayyads.” Annales Islamologiques 42 (2008): 127–156. Papaconstantinou, Arietta, N. Mclynn, and D. L. Schwartz, eds. Conversion in Late Antiquity: Christianity, Islam, and Beyond. Aldershot, UK: Ashgate, 2015.
280 Works Cited Patton, Walter M. Aḥmed Ibn Ḥanbal and the Miḥna: A Contribution to a Biography of the Imam and the History of the Mohammedan Inquisition Called the Miḥna, 218–234 a.h. Leiden: Brill, 1897. Payne, Richard E. “Christianity and Iranian Society in Late Antiquity, ca. 500–700 c.e.” Ph.D. dissertation, Princeton University, 2010. Pellat, Charles. “Le culte de Muᶜāwiya au IIIe siècle de l’hégire.” Studia Islamica, no. 6 (1956): 53–66. Perlmann, Moshe. “The Medieval Polemics between Islam and Judaism.” In Religion in a Religious Age, edited by S. D. Goitein, 103–138. Cambridge, MA: Association for Jewish Studies, 1974. Perlmann, Moshe. “Muslim-Jewish Polemics.” In The Encyclopedia of Religion, vol. 11, edited by Mircea Eliade et al. 396–402. New York: Macmillan, 1987. Peters, F. E., ed. The Arabs and Arabia on the Eve of Islam. Aldershot, UK: Ashgate, 1999. Peters, F. E. Judaism, Christianity, and Islam: The Classical Texts and Their Interpretation. Vol. 3. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1990. Peters, J. R. T. M. God’s Created Speech: A Study in the Speculative Theology of the Muᶜtazilī Qāḍī l-Quḍāt Abū al- Ḥasan ᶜAbd al- Jabbār ibn Ahmad al- Hamadānī. Leiden: Brill, 1976. Petersen, Erling Ladewig. ᶜAlī and Muᶜāwiya in Early Arabic Tradition: Studies on the Genesis and Growth of Islamic Historical Writing until the End of the Ninth Century. Translated by P. Lampe Christensen. Copenhagen: Aarhuus Stiftsbogtrykkerie, 1964. Pines, Shlomo. “An Early Meaning of the Term Mutakallim.” In Studies in the History of Arabic Philosophy, edited by Sarah Stroumsa, 224–240. Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 1996. Powers, David S. Zayd. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2014. Pyrovolaki, M. A. “Futūḥ al-Shām and Other Futūḥ Texts: A Study of the Perception of Marginal Conquest Narratives in Arabic in Medieval and Modern Times.” D.Phil. dissertation, University of Oxford, 2009. Qimanī, Sayyid Maḥmūd al-. al-Ḥizb al-hāshimī wa ta’sīs al-dawla al-islāmiyya. Reprint; Cairo: Maktabat Madbūlī al-ṣaghīr, 1996. Qimanī, Sayyid Maḥmūd al-. Ḥurūb dawlat al-rasūl. 2nd ed. 2 vols. Cairo: Maktabat Madbūlī al-ṣaghīr, 1996. Raḥmān, ᶜAbd al-Hādī ᶜAbd al-. al-Tārīkh wa-l-usṭūra. Cairo: Dār al-ṭalīᶜa, 1994. Raḥmān, ᶜAbd al-Hādī ᶜAbd al-. Judhūr al-quwwa al-islāmiyya. Beirut: Dār al-ṭalīᶜa li- l-ṭibāᶜa wa-l-nashr, 1988. Raḥmān, ᶜAbd al-Hādī ᶜAbd al-. Sulṭat al-naṣṣ. Cairo: Dār sīnā li-l-nashr, 1990. Raḥmān, ᶜĀ’isha ᶜAbd al-. Nisā’ al-nabī. Beirut: Dār al-hilāl, 1391/1971. Ramadan, Hisham M. Understanding Isl