Mamluk Cairo, a Crossroads for Embassies: Studies on Diplomacy and Diplomatics 9789004384637, 9004384634

Citation preview

Mamluk Cairo, a Crossroads for Embassies

Islamic History and Civilization Studies and Texts

Editorial Board Hinrich Biesterfeldt Sebastian Günther

Honorary Editor Wadad Kadi

volume 161

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

Mamluk Cairo, a Crossroads for Embassies Studies on Diplomacy and Diplomatics

Edited by

Frédéric Bauden Malika Dekkiche

LEIDEN | BOSTON

Cover Illustration: Timur receiving gifts from the Mamluk ambassadors (Ẓafarnāma of Sharaf al-Dīn ʿAlī Yazdī, Iran, Shiraz, 839/1436). Worcester Art Museum, Massachusetts. Keir Collection, England. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Bauden, Frédéric, editor. | Dekkiche, Malika, editor. Title: Mamluk Cairo, a crossroads for embassies : studies on diplomacy and diplomatics / Edited by Frédéric Bauden, Malika Dekkiche. Description: Leiden ; Boston : Brill, [2019] | Series: Islamic history and civilization : studies and texts, ISSN 0929-2403 ; Volume 161 | Includes bibliographical references and indexes. 9789004384637 (E-book) | ISBN 9789004384620 (hardback : alk. paper) Subjects: LCSH: Mamelukes. | Egypt–Foreign relations. | Egypt–History–1250-1517. Classification: LCC DT96 (ebook) | LCC DT96 .M21535 2019 (print) | DDC 327.62009/02–dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018050650

Typeface for the Latin, Greek, and Cyrillic scripts: “Brill”. See and download: brill.com/brill‑typeface. ISSN 0929-2403 ISBN 978-90-04-38462-0 (hardback) ISBN 978-90-04-38463-7 (e-book) Copyright 2019 by Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, The Netherlands. Koninklijke Brill NV incorporates the imprints Brill, Brill Hes & De Graaf, Brill Nijhoff, Brill Rodopi, Brill Sense, Hotei Publishing, mentis Verlag, Verlag Ferdinand Schöningh and Wilhelm Fink Verlag. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, translated, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission from the publisher. Authorization to photocopy items for internal or personal use is granted by Koninklijke Brill NV provided that the appropriate fees are paid directly to The Copyright Clearance Center, 222 Rosewood Drive, Suite 910, Danvers, MA 01923, USA. Fees are subject to change. This book is printed on acid-free paper and produced in a sustainable manner.

Contents Preface ix Abbreviations xiv Charts, Figures, and Tables xvi Notes on Contributors xx 1

Mamluk Diplomatics: the Present State of Research Frédéric Bauden

1

2

Mamluk Diplomacy: the Present State of Research Malika Dekkiche

105

Part 1 Diplomatic Conventions 3

Diplomatics, or Another Way to See the World Malika Dekkiche

4

Strong Letters at the Mamluk Court Lucian Reinfandt

5

Embassies and Ambassadors in Mamluk Cairo Yehoshua Frenkel

185

214

238

Part 2 The Mongols and Their Successors 6

Careers in Diplomacy among Mamluks and Mongols, 658–741/1260–1341 263 Anne F. Broadbridge

7

The Golden Horde and the Mamluks: the Birth of a Diplomatic Set-Up (660–5/1261–7) 302 Marie Favereau

vi

contents

8

Mamluk-Ilkhanid Diplomatic Contacts: Negotiations or Posturing? 327 Reuven Amitai

9

Baghdad between Cairo and Tabriz: Emissaries to the Mamluks as Expressions of Local Political Ambition and Ideology during the Seventh/Thirteenth and Eighth/Fourteenth Centuries 340 Hend Gilli-Elewy

10

Between Iraq and a Hard Place: Sulṭān Aḥmad Jalāyir’s Time as a Refugee in the Mamluk Sultanate 363 Patrick Wing

Part 3 The Timurids, the Turkmens, and the Ottomans 11

Niẓām al-Dīn Shāmī’s Description of the Syrian Campaign of Tīmūr 381 Michele Bernardini

12

Diplomatic Entanglements between Tabriz, Cairo, and Herat: a Reconstructed Qara Qoyunlu Letter Datable to 818/1415 410 Frédéric Bauden

13

Fixed Rules to a Changing Game? Sultan Meḥmed II’s Realignment of Ottoman-Mamluk Diplomatic Conventions 484 Kristof D’hulster

Part 4 The Western Islamic Lands 14

Diplomatic Correspondence between Nasrid Granada and Mamluk Cairo: the Last Hope for al-Andalus 511 Bárbara Boloix Gallardo

15

Entre Ifrīqiya hafside et Égypte mamelouke: Des relations anciennes, continues et consolidées 529 Mounira Chapoutot-Remadi

contents

16

vii

Tracking Down the Hafsid Diplomatic Missions All the Way to the Turco-Mamluk Borders (892–6/1487–91) 566 Lotfi Ben Miled

Part 5 Arabia, India, and Africa 17

Diplomatic Networks of Rasulid Yemen in Egypt (Seventh/Thirteenth to Early Ninth/Fifteenth Centuries) 581 Éric Vallet

18

“Aggression in the Best of Lands”: Mecca in Egyptian-Indian Diplomacy in the Ninth/Fifteenth Century 604 John L. Meloy

19

Some Remarks on the Diplomatic Relations between Cairo, Delhi/Dawlatābād, and Aḥmadābād during the Eighth/Fourteenth and Ninth/Fifteenth Centuries 621 Stephan Conermann and Anna Kollatz

20

The Ḥaṭī and the Sultan: Letters and Embassies from Abyssinia to the Mamluk Court 638 Julien Loiseau

21

“Peace Be upon Those Who Follow the Right Way”: Diplomatic Practices between Mamluk Cairo and the Borno Sultanate at the End of the Eighth/Fourteenth Century 658 Rémi Dewière

Part 6 The Latin West 22

The European Embassies to the Court of the Mamluk Sultans in Cairo 685 Pierre Moukarzel

viii

contents

23

In the Name of the Minorities: Lisbon’s Muslims as Emissaries from the King of Portugal to the Sultan of Egypt 711 Maria Filomena Lopes de Barros

24

Envoys between Lusignan Cyprus and Mamluk Egypt, 838–78/1435–73: the Accounts of Pero Tafur, George Boustronios and Ibn Taghrī Birdī 725 Nicholas Coureas

25

Negotiating the Last Mamluk-Venetian Commercial Decree (922– 3/1516–7): Commercial Liability from the Sixth/Twelfth to the Early Tenth/Sixteenth Century 741 Gladys Frantz-Murphy

26

Three Mamluk Letters Concerning the Florentine Trade in Egypt and Syria: a New Interpretation 782 Alessandro Rizzo

Part 7 Material Culture 27

Écritoires: objets fonctionnels et symboliques indissociables des cérémonies officielles à l’époque mamelouke 801 Ludvik Kalus

28

Precious Objects for Eminent Guests: the Use of Chinese Ceramics in Mamluk Cairo: the Fustat Ceramic Collection from The Royal Museums of Art and History (Brussels) 823 Valentina Vezzoli Index

843

Preface In this volume we have gathered twenty-eight essays, most of which were presented at an international conference organized at the Université de Liège (September 6–8, 2012). The aim of Mamluk Cairo, a Crossroads for Embassies was to convene specialists from various fields of expertise to engage in the debate over the diplomatic relations between the Mamluk sultanate and other Muslim and non-Muslim powers in the time frame corresponding to the ascent of the Mamluks to power (1250) until their fall to the Ottomans (1517). Our choice to focus on the Mamluk sultanate of Egypt and Syria for such an inquiry is expedient for a number of reasons. First, the period that saw the emergence of the Mamluks is of the greatest importance to the field of Islamic history, as it witnessed the end of the Abbasid caliphate in Baghdad and with it the collapse of the mamlakat al-Islām ideal. This gave birth to a new Islamic order characterized by the recognition of an Islamic world both divided and manifold. The Mamluks were situated at the junction of these two worlds: the old, which they sought to reproduce, and the incipient one they witnessed. Second, the Mamluks proved themselves to be supreme Islamic rulers. They did so by defeating the Mongols’ advance in Palestine and, later, by defeating the crusaders. They thus became the saviors and defenders of Islam. They also earned themselves prestige for restoring the Abbasid caliphate in Cairo. Even if their position was very often questioned and challenged by Muslim rivals, one cannot, however, deny their major role as protectors of the Muslim community during the pilgrimage. Indeed, Mamluk sultans, by their seasonal domination in the Hijaz, as well as their hold on Christian holy sites, were unavoidable interlocutors with both the Muslim and non-Muslim communities. Their strategic holding of the Hijaz also further increased Mamluks’ importance in the commercial sphere, particularly in the case of transit trade. This dominance brought about a significant increase in exchanges with the Latin West, which was quite concerned with its commercial interests at that time and was anxious to preserve certain benefits. Finally, we cannot ignore the importance of Cairo, the Mamluk capital, as the epicenter of Islamic culture and knowledge. The Mamluks set themselves up as worthy heirs of the Ayyubids in the fashion of a revival of Sunni Islam. This, in particular, they accomplished by establishing four chief judgeships over each of the schools of law and by patronizing numerous madrasas, such that Cairo became an inevitable stage for people in search of knowledge. The Mamluk sultanate therefore occupied a central and strategic position in the premodern period. Every day, its capital, Cairo, received representatives from many foreign countries seeking to discuss various matters with

x

preface

the sultan. In constant contact with the neighboring world, Cairo truly proved itself a crossroads for embassies. In addition to the obvious importance of the Mamluk sultanate as a diplomatic interlocutor, another reason justifies our focus on this power as a primary field of inquiry: the sources. Indeed, the Mamluk period is well known for the abundance, but also the great variety of its historiographic production. Not only do we possess numerous chronicles, which recorded the arrival and reception of foreign embassies to Cairo—and to a lesser extent Damascus—, throughout the entire period of Mamluk rule, but many other narrative sources are extant, which complete and adjust the data found in the chronicles. Biographical dictionaries, for example, provide additional details on the status and careers of the men involved in the exchanges. The corpora of administrative literature, which accurately characterize the encyclopedic trends of the time, are even more relevant to this inquiry into diplomatic contacts. This administrative literature is crucial to our understanding of the frame and modalities of the exchanges as they establish the institutional basis that regulated diplomatic contacts. Furthermore, along with the theoretical information they contain, those corpora also retained copies of numerous correspondences, treaties, and other documents that have not reached us through the archives. These copies are of prime importance, since they represent the only witness of the contacts that took place between the Mamluk sultans and their Muslim and non-Muslim counterparts. Along with these obvious sources, other works from the period addressed diplomatic contacts more indirectly. This is, for example, the case of the Mirror for princes literature and some fatwa collections, which touch on the normative and practical dealing of diplomatic relations, respectively. If the Mamluk period is rich in sources produced under the patronage of the sultans or their elites, many powers in contact with the Mamluks also recorded or kept a record of these exchanges. In the latter category, we note the numerous original documents preserved in various European archives (especially in Italy and Spain). These documents are essential, since, on the one hand, they represent the only example of original material we have. But on the other hand, they include, in some cases, translations of Arabic originals, which also attest to the translators’ work. Whereas these archives are a direct witness of diplomatic contacts, the Latin West has also provided us with many indirect accounts, such as those of pilgrims and merchants who made their way to Mamluk territory. In some cases, these individuals recorded diplomatic encounters in their travelogues and memoirs, which they describe in more or less detail. Along with the ‘European’ materials, other Muslim courts also kept records of their contacts with the sultanate in their historiographies. All these materials combined offer

preface

xi

unique opportunities to reconstitute, if not a total history of Mamluk diplomatic contacts, at least a connected one. The period of the Mamluk sultanate (1250–1517) is highly exciting for the history of the diplomatic contacts. It was a time of tremendous change, with regard to the means and discourse of legitimacy, and the formulation of ideologies, a time in which Turco-Mongol traditions brought new components, that often opposed the sharīʿa ideals. These new discourses are well attested through the many exchanges—cordial and hostile—that took place among the various powers. The Mongol invasions of core Islamic regions also had major consequences for the increased mobility of individuals (military and civilians) seeking asylum and new opportunities. Many of those settled in Mamluk territory, brought not only their skills, but also—maybe more importantly—their networks and connections to their ‘homelands.’ The Mamluks (both sultans and elite) being themselves ‘outsiders’ had no problem integrating and accommodating these new elements. Finally, the so-called Pax mongolica also had a tremendous impact on the process by which Latin individuals and merchants were integrated into the open system it created. While most studies of diplomatic relations of the Mamluk sultanate—but also of other contemporary powers—have so far looked at contacts between ‘state’-like entities on the model of the nation-state studies, in this volume, our aim is to combine all those separate cases and break through the frontiers— both ideological and spatial—that supposedly divide them. Therefore, following a trend initiated by Sanjay Subrahmanyam in his 1997 article (Connected histories: Notes towards a reconfiguration of Early Modern Eurasia, in Modern Asian Studies 31/3 (1997), 735–62), our goal is also to connect all the various historiographies dealing with those contacts. Even though many of the contributions in this volume focus on Mamluk historiography, specialists of other regions allow us to bridge the various traditions more efficiently. While using the methodology proposed by the field of ‘Connected histories,’ in this volume we have, as stated above, used as our object of inquiry the field of ‘Diplomatic studies’—a field that has recently witnessed an increasing interest from scholars of the premodern Islamic world.1 Our goal here was to play on the ambivalence of the word ‘diplomatic,’ i.e., related to diplomacy, but also to diplomatics. Diplomatics is a field that has 1 In this respect, it is worth mentioning that two participants published their books shortly after the conference, which, in the first case, was the impetus for its writing: D. BehrensAbouseif, Practising diplomacy in the Mamluk sultanate: Gifts and material culture in the medieval Islamic world, London 2014; C. Yüksel Muslu, The Ottomans and the Mamluks: Imperial diplomacy and warfare in the Islamic world, London and New York 2014.

xii

preface

also witnessed a revival over the last twenty years and that is now attracting more attention in Islamic studies, particularly for the Mamluk period. Although this field is usually associated with a more traditional approach to diplomatic history (i.e., the dealing with documents, including their editions, dating, and criticism), in this volume we aim to take advantage of another trend of study, the so-called ‘new diplomatic history,’ which approaches ‘diplomatics’ in a new and original way, and links it more efficiently to issues of political and social histories. Our understanding of ‘diplomacy’ follows the same trend. Far from assuming the actual existence of such a concept during the premodern period, we use it as an analytical frame to address several issues pertaining to state formation and legitimation, elite communication and circulation. Both aspects (‘diplomatics’ and ‘diplomacy’) are dealt with in more detail in the two introductory chapters of the volume devoted to the states of the research. Beside these two states of the research, the volume gathers 26 articles and is divided into six parts. The first part, on diplomatic conventions, looks at the rules of letter-writing and ceremonial in Cairo (reception of embassies, ritual of signature). It establishes the general framework for the practice of diplomacy in the Mamluk capital, which is well attested through the case studies presented in the volume. The five following parts of the volume focus on Mamluk exchanges with the various geographical regions (in order of importance, as stated by the Cairene chancery): The Mongols and their successors (Ilkhanids, Jalayirids, Golden Horde); the Timurids, Turkmens and Ottomans; the western Islamic lands (Andalus, Maghrib); Arabia, India, and Africa; and the Latin West (the Italian city-states, Portugal, and Cyprus). Finally, the volume ends with two original studies on material culture. The organization of the conference would not have been possible without the help of various institutions and persons to whom we express our deepest gratitude. First and foremost, we would like to thank the following institutions for their generous financial support: the Fondation Max van Berchem (Genève), the Fonds de la recherche scientifique (F.R.S.-FNRS, Fédération WallonieBruxelles), and the Patrimoine and the Faculté de Philosophie et Lettres of the Université de Liège. The conference was placed under the aegis of the Commission internationale de diplomatique (CID), a clear sign of its wish to open the committee and to widen its focus to specialists of non-European areas.2 We are also grateful to the colleagues who kindly accepted to be part of the scientific committee whose main role was to assess the value of the proposals, 2 The CID organized a ‘technical’ colloquium in two parts on the theme Pushing Boundaries in Diplomatics: Why Expand the Range of Activities of the CID? (Ghent, April 25–6, 2014, and Strasbourg, March 30–1, 2017).

preface

xiii

thus guaranteeing the scientific quality of the essays presented in this volume: Doris Behrens-Abouseif, Michele Bernardini, Ludvik Kalus, and John Woods. In this context, we would also like to thank the two anonymous reviewers of the volume for their thorough reading of the contributions and their comments. Last but not least, we offer our thanks to the contributors whose articles, taken together, offer one of the most exhaustive and refreshing analysis of diplomacy and diplomatics in premodern Islam. Frédéric Bauden and Malika Dekkiche

Abbreviations ACA ADBR AEM AI AIÉOA AO ASF ASI ASVe ASTo BÉO BIÉ BL BnF BSOAS CAJ EI2 EI3 EIr ES IC IJMES IOS JA JAH JAIS JAL JAOS JARCE JESHO JIM JIS JNES JRAS JSAI ME MEAH

Archivo de la Corona de Aragón, Barcelona Archives départementales des Bouches du Rhône Anuario de Estudios Medievales Annales Islamologiques Annales de l’Institut d’études orientales d’Alger Archiv Orientální Archivio di Stato di Firenze, Florence Archivio Storico Italiano Archivio di Stato di Venezia, Venice Archivio di Stato di Torino, Turin Bulletin d’études orientales Bulletin de l’Institut d’Égypte British Library, London Bibliothèque nationale de France, Paris Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies Central Asiatic Journal Encyclopaedia of Islam, 2nd ed., Leiden 1954–2004 Encyclopedia of Islam Three, Leiden 2007– Encyclopaedia Iranica, online edition, New York 1996– Eurasian Studies Islamic Culture International Journal of Middle Eastern Studies Israel Oriental Studies Journal asiatique Journal of African History Journal of Arabic and Islamic Studies Journal of Arabic Literature Journal of the American Oriental Society Journal of the American Research Center in Egypt Journal of the Economic and Social History of the Orient Journal of Islamic Manuscripts Journal of Islamic Studies Journal of Near Eastern Studies Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society Jerusalem Studies in Arabic and Islam Medieval Encounters Miscelánea de Estudios Árabes y Hebraicos

abbreviations MHR MME MSR MUSJ OCP OIM OL OLP OM OP PO QSA RÉI REMMM ROC ROMM RSO SI SIr WZKM ZDMG

Mediterranean Historical Review Manuscripts of the Middle East Mamlūk Studies Review Mélanges de l’Université Saint-Joseph Orientalia Christiana Periodica Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago Orientalistische Literaturzeitung Orientalia Lovaniensia Periodica Oriente Moderno Orientalia Pragensia Patrologia Orientalis Quaderni di Studi Arabi Revue des études islamiques Revue des mondes musulmans et de la Méditerranée Revue de l’Orient chrétien Revue de l’Occident musulman et de la Méditerranée Rivista degli Studi Orientali Studia Islamica Studia Iranica Wiener Zeitschrift für die Kunde des Morgenlandes Zeitschrift der Deutschen Morgenländischen Gesellschaft

xv

Charts, Figures, and Tables Chart 12.1

Partial genealogical tree of Tīmūr’s offspring

455

Figures 1.1 1.2 1.3

1.4

4.1 4.2 4.3 4.4 4.5 4.6 4.7 12.1 12.2 12.3 12.4 12.5 12.6 12.7 12.8 12.9 12.10 12.11

A secretary writing a letter (courtesy Edinburgh University Library, MS Or. 20, fol. 139b) 62 Case for document (Egypt or Syria, ninth/fifteenth c.) 63 al-Nāṣir Muḥammad’s 705/1306 letter to the king of Aragon, James II (courtesy Archivo de la Corona de Aragón, Barcelona, Cartas árabes, doc. 148) 64 The executive secretary (dawādār) standing to the left of the sultan and holding the pen case (dawāt) (basin known as St. Louis Baptistry, Syria, first half of eighth/fourteenth c.) (Courtesy Musée du Louvre) 65 P.Vind.Arab. III 5 = A.Ch. 18877 (verso) 228 P.Vind.Arab. II 19 = A.Ch. 1587 (verso) 229 P.Vind.Arab. III 2 = A.Ch. 10219 (verso) 230 P.Vind.Arab. III 10 = A.Ch. 25002 B (verso) 231 P.Vind.Arab. III 12 = A.Ch. 18988 (verso) 232 P.Vind. Arab. III 48 = A. Ch. 7328 (recto) 233 P.Vind. Arab. III 48 = A. Ch. 7328 (verso) 234 The structure of the paper with indication of the chain and laid lines (Leiden, Universiteitsbibliotheek, MS Or. 14533, fol. 388) 416 Two ḍammas (left: MS Or. 14533, fol. 388; right: MS Or. 1366c, fol. 37) 417 Indication of the significant measures to be considered (Leiden, Universiteitsbibliotheek, MS 14533, fol. 332b) 419 MS Or. 1366c, fol. 15b (Leiden, Universiteitsbibliotheek) 465 MS Or. 1366c, fol. 16a (Leiden, Universiteitsbibliotheek) 466 MS Or. 1366c, fols. 25a–27b virtually reconstructed (Leiden, Universiteitsbibliotheek) 467 MS Or. 1366c, fol. 26b (Leiden, Universiteitsbibliotheek) 468 MS Or. 1366c, fol. 29b (Leiden, Universiteitsbibliotheek) 469 MS Or. 1366c, fol. 37b (Leiden, Universiteitsbibliotheek) 470 MS Or. 14533, fol. 331b (Leiden, Universiteitsbibliotheek) 471 MS Or. 14533, fol. 332b (Leiden, Universiteitsbibliotheek) 472

charts, figures, and tables 12.12 12.13 12.14 12.15 12.16 13.1 25.1 25.2 25.3 25.4 25.5 25.6 25.7 25.8 25.9 26.1 26.2 26.3 26.4 26.5 27.1 27.2 27.3 27.4 27.5 27.6 27.7 27.8

xvii

MS Or. 14533, fol. 371b (Leiden, Universiteitsbibliotheek) 473 MS Or. 14533, fol. 372b (Leiden, Universiteitsbibliotheek) 474 MS Or. 14533, fol. 373b (Leiden, Universiteitsbibliotheek) 475 MS Or. 14533, fol. 388b (Leiden, Universiteitsbibliotheek) 476 MS Or. 14533, fol. 389a (Leiden, Universiteitsbibliotheek) 477 Rethinking diplomacy: from the “rules” and its “game” (left) to “appearance” and “reality” (right) 501 923/1517 Mamluk Decree, part 1 (E13789, Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago) Courtesy Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago 769 923/1517 Mamluk Decree, part 2 (E13789, Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago) Courtesy Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago 770 923/1517 Mamluk Decree, part 3 (E13789, Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago) Courtesy Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago 771 923/1517 Mamluk Decree, part 4 (E13789, Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago) Courtesy Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago 772 923/1517 Mamluk Decree, part 5 (E13789, Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago) Courtesy Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago 773 923/1517 Mamluk Decree, part 6 (E13789, Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago) Courtesy Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago 774 923/1517 Mamluk Decree, part 7 (E13789, Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago) Courtesy Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago 775 923/1517 Mamluk Decree, part 8 (E13789, Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago) Courtesy Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago 776 923/1517 Mamluk Decree, part 9 (E13789, Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago) Courtesy Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago 777 The date in document B (courtesy of the State Archives of Florence) 786 The date in document C (courtesy of the State Archives of Florence) 786 The date in document F (courtesy of the State Archives of Florence) 786 The date in document A (courtesy of the Biblioteca Mediceo Laurenziana, Florence) 786 A line of text overlapping the sultan’s signature in document B (courtesy of the State Archives of Florence) 791 Propriétaire actuel inconnu (vente Bonhams), partie supérieure 818 Propriétaire actuel inconnu (vente Bonhams), partie inférieure 818 Jérusalem, National Museum 819 Jérusalem, National Museum 819 Paris, BnF, taken from REI 819 Paris, Musée du Louvre, taken from REI 820 Paris, Musée du Louvre, taken from REI 820 Paris, Musée du Louvre, taken from REI 821

xviii 27.9 28.1 28.2

charts, figures, and tables Jérusalem, National Museum 822 Chinese wares (Royal Museums of Art and History, Brussels). Scale 1:2 838 Mamluk imitations of Chinese wares (Royal Museums of Art and History, Brussels). Scale 1:3 839

Tables 3.1 3.2 3.3 3.4 3.5 3.6 3.7 3.8 3.9 3.10 6.1 6.2 6.3 6.4 6.5 6.6 12.1 12.2 12.3 12.4 12.5 12.6 13.1 13.2 15.1 15.2 15.3 17.1

The world according to Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī 195 The world according to al-Qalqashandī 196 The world according to al-Saḥmāwī 197 Paper sizes used for letters 201 Opening formulas used in letters 203 Principal laqabs used in letters 204 Combination of principal–secondary laqabs used in letters 205 Signatures used in letters 207 Recapitulation of the rules for letter-writing 208 Distribution of the rulers according to the rules of letter-writing 210 Baybars and the Golden Horde 280 Qalāwūn, Khalīl and the Golden Horde 283 Muḥammad and the Golden Horde 284 Baybars and the Ilkhanids 291 Qalāwūn, Khalīl, and the Ilkhanids 291 Muḥammad and the Ilkhanids 292 List of al-Maqrīzī’s holograph manuscripts with indication of reused documents 412 List of the inscriptions with indication of the measures 413 Structure of six Qara Qoyunlu letters sent to the Mamluk sultans 424 Similar expressions to characterize how the Mamluk letter was received by the Qara Qoyunlu ruler 427 The reconstructed letter 429 Diplomatic exchanges between Qarā Yūsuf, Shāh Rukh, and al-Muʾayyad Shaykh between 817/1415 and 824/1421 460 The inscriptiones in Mamluk diplomatics: the hierarchical perspective 494 The inscriptiones in Mamluk-Ottoman correspondence: the historical perspective 497 Liste des préposés au paraphe (aṣḥāb al-ʿalāma) 554 Échanges entre souverains d’Ifrīqiya et d’Égypte 557 Liste des correspondances échangées 558 Letters sent by Mamluk sultans to Rasulid sultans kept fully or partially 585

charts, figures, and tables 17.2 17.3 20.1

Letters sent by Rasulid sultans to Mamluk sultans kept fully or partially 586 Rasulid envoys in Cairo 587 Abyssinian letters and embassies to Mamluk Cairo: a survey 643

xix

Notes on Contributors Reuven Amitai is Eliyahu Professor of Islamic History at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, specializing in the history of the Mamluk Sultanate and the Mongols in the Middle East. Among his publications are Mongols and Mamluks: The MamlukIlkhanid war 1260–1281 (Cambridge 1995); The Mongols in the Islamic lands: Studies in the history of the Ilkhanate (Ashgate 2007); Holy war and rapprochement: Studies in the relations between the Mamluk sultanate and the Mongol ilkhanate (1260–1335) (Turnhout 2013). He has recently co-edited (with Christoph Cluse from Trier) the volume Slavery and the slave trade in the Eastern Mediterranean, 11th to 15th centuries (Turnhout 2017), and is currently working on the history of Palestine in the Mamluk period. Frédéric Bauden is Professor of Arabic Language and Islamic Studies at the University of Liège. His research focuses on Mamluk historiography, diplomatics, and codicology. He is the editor of the Bibliotheca Maqriziana (Leiden) whose aim is to publish definitive critical editions of al-Maqrīzī’s minor and major works accompanied by annotated translations and thorough introductions, the whole prepared by the specialists of the fields dealt with in each work. He is currently completing his book entitled Al-Maqrīzī’s collection of opuscules: An introduction. Lotfi Ben Miled is an Assistant Professor in Medieval History at the Archeology department of the Faculty of Arts and Humanities of Kairouan, Tunisia, and is currently a member of the research unit on Islamic Medieval History at the Faculty of Humanities and Social Sciences (LR99ES01, LMAIM), 9th April University of Tunis. His research focuses on the history of the Islamic West and other eastern regions from the mid-fifth-eleventh to late ninth-fifteenth century. He has been working, in particular, on the representation of otherness in the historical records of the Maghrib, people’s mobility, the exchange of ideas and the trade of merchandise between the Islamic Maghrib and the Islamic Orient. He published a book in Arabic entitled Ifrīqiya wa-l-sharq al-mutawassiṭ (Ifrīqiya and the Eastern Mediterranean) (Tunis 2011) and recently edited a Festschrift volume for Hichem Djait’s 80th birthday (Tunis 2018).

notes on contributors

xxi

Michele Bernardini is Professor of Persian Language and Literature, and History of Modern Iran and the Ottoman Empire at the University of Naples “L’Orientale”. At the university he is the Director of the Department of Asian, African and Mediterranean Studies. Specializing on the Ilkhanid, Timurid, and Safavid periods, he has published various books, including Mémoire et propagande à l’ époque timouride in 2008. Together with Jürgen Paul he is the editor of the journal Eurasian Studies (Rome). Bárbara Boloix Gallardo is Professor of Arabic Studies at the Department of Semitic Studies at the University of Granada. As a specialist in the history of al-Andalus and the Maghreb, focusing specially on the study of the Nasrid Kingdom of Granada, she has participated in a number of international conferences and taught courses on both disciplines at Washington University in St. Louis (until 2012). Among her most recent publications are Las Sultanas de la Alhambra: Las grandes desconocidas del Reino Nazarí de Granada (siglos XIII–XV) (Granada 2013), the book chapter The genealogical legitimization of the Naṣrid dynasty (13th–15th Centuries): The alleged Anṣārī origins of the Banū Naṣr (2014), and Ibn al-Aḥmar. Vida y reinado del primer sultán de Granada (1195–1273) (2017). She is currently coordinating a volume on Medieval and Early Modern Granada within the series Brill’s Companion to European History edited by Brill. Anne F. Broadbridge is Associate Professor of Medieval Islamic History at the University of Massachusetts Amherst. Her most recent book is Women and the making of the Mongol empire (Cambridge 2018). Her first book was Kingship and ideology in the Islamic and Mongol worlds (Cambridge 2008). Her research focuses on two fields: first, the Mamluk Sultanate, with a particular interest in diplomacy and ideology; and second, the Mongol Empire, especially ideology, women, and politics. Mounira Chapoutot-Remadi is Professor Emeritus of Medieval History of the Arab and Muslim World, at the University of Tunis. She is a specialist of the Mamluk period and has directed more than thirty theses in the medieval history of the Maghrib and the Near East. In 2015, she was appointed Head of the Humanities and Social Sciences Department at the Bayt al-Hikma Academy of Arts and Sciences. In 2016 she was awarded the Ibn Khaldun Prize. Her research interests are the social and political history of the Mamluk era, as well as Gender Studies.

xxii

notes on contributors

Stephan Conermann is Professor of Islamic History at the University of Bonn. Among his special research interests are the history and society of the Mughal Empire and of the Mamluk regime in Egypt and Syria, particularly in relation to questions of narratology, historiography, dependency, and im/mobilization. His recent publications include Mamlukica—Studies on the history and society during the Mamluk era (2013); The Mamluk-Ottoman transition: Continuity and change in Egypt and Bilād al-Shām in the sixteenth century (ed. with Gül Şen, 2017); Muslim-Jewish relations in the middle Islamic period: Jews in the Ayyubid and Mamluk sultanates (1171–1517) (ed., 2017); and Can freedom be unlimited? Examples of censorship in Middle Eastern societies in the 19th and 20th centuries (ed. with Ali Haggai and Christine Schirrmacher, 2017). Nicholas Coureas works as a Senior Researcher at the Cyprus Research Centre in Nicosia on the history of Lusignan Cyprus (1191–1473). He has published various articles and books on this subject, including The Latin church in Cyprus 1195–1312 (Ashgate 1997), its sequel The Latin church of Cyprus 1313–1378 (Nicosia 2010), and with Michael Walsh and Peter Edbury he edited the conference proceedings, Medieval and Renaissance Famagusta (Ashgate 2012). In 2015 he published for the Cyprus Research Centre, together with Peter Edbury, The Chronicle of Amadi translated from the Italian. Malika Dekkiche is Assistant Professor of Medieval Middle Eastern and Mediterranean History at the University of Antwerp. She is currently preparing a monograph entitled Keeping the peace in premodern Islam: Theory and practice of diplomacy under the Mamluk sultanate (Edinburgh University Press). She also published several articles on the contacts and exchanges between the Mamluks, the Timurids and Turkmen dynasties (Qara Qoyunlu, Qaramanids). Beside her research on Mamluk diplomacy, she is also working on a side project on religious patronage in the Hijaz. Rémi Dewière is a historian who specializes in the circulations, Islam and state practices in Sahel in the late medieval and early modern period. After a post-doctoral fellowship at the EHESS (Centre Alexandre-Koyré), he is currently a Max Weber fellow at the European University Institute (Fiesole), where he works on diplomacy, state administration and textuality in Islamic West Africa (16th–20th c.). His book, Du lac Tchad à La Mecque. Le Sultanat du Borno et son monde (XVIe–

notes on contributors

xxiii

XVIIe siècle) (Paris: Éditions de la Sorbonne, 2017), provides a new perspective on the functioning of a Sahelian Islamic state in the early modern period and its relationship with the world around it. Kristof D’hulster is a postdoctoral fellow of the Research Foundation-Flanders (FWO), affiliated to Ghent University, Belgium. Next to Turkic (socio-, contact-, and historical) linguistics, his main interest lies in processes of cultural exchange and interaction within the pre-modern Turkic, Persian, and Arab world. Currently engaged in Mamluk studies, he focuses on issues of language, ethnicity, and identity (approaching these as social constructs, within a combined linguistic, semiotic, and sociological framework), state formation, literary studies, and the Mamluk-Ottoman transition period. He has published a number of articles in, among others, the Journal of Arabic Literature and the Annales Islamologiques. Marie Favereau obtained her PhD in History from the University of Paris IV (Paris-Sorbonne) and the Università degli Studi di San Marino in 2004. She was a member of the French Institute of Oriental Archaeology (Cairo, 2005–9) and a Fulbright visiting member of the Institute for Advanced Studies (Princeton, 2009–10). She is currently research associate at the University of Oxford and member of the ERC project Nomadic Empires: A World-Historical Perspective (2014–9). She specializes in the history of the Golden Horde and her current research investigates trade and diplomacy between the Mongol Empire, Europe, and the Middle East. She edited Les Conventions diplomatiques dans le monde musulman: L’ Umma en partage (1258–1517) (Cairo 2008); The Golden Horde and the islamisation of the Eurasian steppes (Aix-en-Provence 2018); and she published, with Jacques Raymond, La Horde d’Or. Les héritiers de Gengis Khan (Paris 2014), and La Horde d’or et le sultanat mamelouk: naissance d’ une alliance (Cairo 2018). Gladys Frantz-Murphy is Professor Emerita of History at Regis University in Denver, specializing in Southwest Asia and North Africa from an environmental perspective. She has published two books: Agrarian administration in Egypt from the Arabs to the Ottomans and Arabic agricultural leases and tax receipts 148–427A.H./765– 1035A.D. (Cairo 1986), and Arabic agricultural leases and tax receipts from Egypt, 148–427A.H./765–1035A.D.: Arabic texts (Vienna 2001), forty articles and contributions to books, most recently “Environmental challenges and societal

xxiv

notes on contributors

responses: Southwest Asia and North Africa: 1 to 600 A.H./622–1200,” in S. Procházka, L. Reinfandt, and S. Tost (eds.), Proceedings of the third international conference of the research network Imperium and officium: Comparative studies in ancient bureaucracy and officialdom, University of Vienna, 20–22 February 2013 (Vienna 2018), 1–49, and numerous book reviews. She is currently completing a monograph Environment in the History of Early Muslim Ruled Egypt. Environment, Internecine Conflict and Religious Legitimacy, 20–235/640–850, based on correlating documents and early reports in Muslim narrative sources, with empirical research in physical, geological and biological sciences. Yehoshua Frenkel studied at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. A senior lecturer at the University of Haifa, he teaches the pre-modern history of Muslim societies in Arabic speaking lands. His recent research interests embrace popular culture, communal practices, social history, and legal discourse in medieval and early modern Egypt and Syria (1100–1700). His latest publication includes al-Maqrīzī’s Ḍawʾ al-sārī li-maʿrifat ḫabar Tamīm al-Dārī (On Tamīm al-Dārī and His Waqf in Hebron) (ed., Leiden 2014, “Bibliotheca Maqriziana”) and The Turkic Peoples in Medieval Arabic Writings (ed., London 2015). Hend Gilli-Elewy is Associate Professor at the Interdisciplinary General Education Department, California State Polytechnic University, Pomona. She holds a PhD in Islamic Studies from the University of Cologne, Germany. Her research and scholarly interests include social, historical, and religious aspects of the early and medieval Islamic world, slavery in Islam, the Ikhanids, and the history of Baghdad and Iraq. Recent publications include: “On the Provenance of Slaves in Mecca during the time of the Prophet Muhammad”, International Journal of Middle East Studies 49:1 (2017), 164–68; “On Women, Power, and Politics during the Last Phase of the Ilkhanate,” in Arabica 59 (2012); “The Mongol Court in Baghdad: The Juwayni Brothers Between Local Court and Central Court,” in A. Fuess and J.P. Hartung (eds.), Court Cultures in the Muslim World: Seventh to Nineteenth centuries (London and New York 2011). Ludvik Kalus now retired, is Honorary Professor of Islamic History (Middle Ages) at Université Paris-Sorbonne (Paris IV) and Honorary Directeur d’ Études at École Pratique des Hautes Études (Islamic Numismatics and Epigraphy). He published several books and more than eighty articles about Islamic epigraphy (China, Indonesia, Malaysia, Brunei, Bahrain, etc.), numismatics, sigillography,

notes on contributors

xxv

and other topics. He is the founder and director of the Thesaurus d’épigraphie islamique (www.epigraphie‑islamique.org), developed under the patronage of the Fondation Max van Berchem (Geneva). Anna Kollatz works on the Mughal Empire, the Indian Subcontinent up to the 18th century and the history and society of the Mamluk Era. Her interest lies in ethnic and religious diversity, the functions of historiographic writing and in forms of dependencies in the pre-modern and early modern times. In her work on the Mughal and late Mughal courts, she focuses on social relations and dependencies between the ruler and free as well as enslaved nobles. Her work includes both the elite circles at court as well as a micro-historical perspective on subaltern military slaves and their masters. Anna Kollatz is member of the Bonn Center for Transcultural Narratology (BZTN) and the Bonn Center for Dependency and Slavery Studies (BCDSS). Her current project in the DFG-Collaborative Research Center “Macht and Herrschaft—premodern configurations in a transcultural perspective” evaluates court ceremonial and festivities in context with the figurations of social order. Julien Loiseau is Professor of Islamic History in the Middle Ages at Aix-Marseille Université. He has published extensively on urban issues and the social history of political elites in the Mamluk period, including three books among which Les Mamelouks. Une expérience du pouvoir dans l’Islam médiéval (Paris 2014). He has recently focused his research on the history of Ethiopia and has been the recipient of a European Research Council Consolidator Grant (2017–22) for research projects on the connections and relationships between the Horn of Africa and the Middle East in the Middle Ages (‘HornEast’). Maria Filomena Lopes de Barros is Professor of History at the University of Évora. Her research interests center on the Muslim minority in the Iberian Peninsula and on the issue of identity(ies) through topics such as Islamic law, onomastics, and cultural ascriptions. She is co-founder and co-editor of Hamsa: Journal of Judaic and Islamic Studies (http://www.hamsa.cidehus.uevora.pt/). John L. Meloy is Professor of History in the Department of History and Archaeology at the American University of Beirut. His research interests lie in the medieval Hijaz, the Mamluk Sultanate, and the international connections of both. In 2015, his

xxvi

notes on contributors

Imperial power and maritime trade: Mecca and Cairo in the later middle ages was issued in a revised paperback edition. Pierre Moukarzel is Professor of Medieval History at the Lebanese University, Faculty of Letters and Human Sciences, Branch II. Specializing in relations between Europe and the Mamluk Sultanate and the political and economic exchanges in the medieval Mediterranean, he has published a number of books and articles, including La Ville de Beyrouth sous la domination mamelouke (Baabda 2010). Lucian Reinfandt is a historian of Islam and Arabic papyrologist at the Austrian National Library in Vienna. He is a specialist of archival and documentary studies and has published on law and society in the eastern Islamic lands, including his Official epistolography and the language(s) of power (with Stephan Procházka and Sven Tost, 2015). He is currently preparing a book on bureaucracy under the earlier caliphate. Alessandro Rizzo PhD 2017, Liège Université–Aix-Marseille University. In 2012 he obtained a master degree in Medieval History at the University of Pisa. From 2013 to 2017, he was a Research Fellow (F.R.S.-FNRS) at the University of Liège. During this period, he prepared a dissertation on the medieval diplomatic and commercial relations between Florence and the Mamluk Sultanate in the fifteenth century. From 2017 to 2018, he was a post-doc fellow at the Annemarie Schimmel Kolleg at Bonn University. He also takes part in the project “I-link0977,” funded by CSIC (Spain), on the diplomatic exchanges between Islamic Mediterranean and Christian European powers in the Middle Ages. Recently, he authored an article entitled “Diplomatie sur le terrain: la première mission diplomatique florentine en territoire mamelouk” (forthcoming in F. Bauden [ed.], Culture matérielle et contacts diplomatiques entre l’Occident latin, Byzance et l’ Orient islamique [XIe– XVIe s.]). Éric Vallet is Assistant Professor of Islamic History at Université Paris I PanthéonSorbonne, a member of the Research Unit Medieval Islam (CNRS/Paris I/ Paris IV/EPHE) and a junior member of the Institut universitaire de France (2012–17). Specializing in the late medieval Islamic societies in the Near East, the Arabian Peninsula, and the Indian Ocean, he has published L’ Arabie marchande. État et commerce sous les sultans rasūlides du Yémen (626–858/1229–

notes on contributors

xxvii

1454) (Paris 2010), Lumières de la sagesse. Écoles médiévales d’Orient et d’Occident (ed. with Thierry Kouamé and Sandra Aube, Paris 2013), and La Fabrique de l’Océan Indien. Cartes d’Orient et d’Occident (Antiquité–xvie siècle) (ed. with Emmanuelle Vagnon, Paris 2016). Valentina Vezzoli is post-doc researcher in Islamic Archaeology at the University Ca’ Foscari of Venice. Her main research interests focus on the study and interpretation of ceramic artifacts from archaeological contexts within the social, economic, and cultural frame that produced and employed them. She worked on several ceramic assemblages of the Islamic world: in Syria (Apamea, Shayzar, Qinnasrin), Lebanon (Baalbek and Tyr), Turkey (Ziyaret Tepe), Egypt (Fustat), and Kurdistan (Dohuk governorate). She has published several scientific articles on this subject, which also focus on objects preserved in museum collections; her PhD thesis, La Céramique islamique d’Apamée de Syrie. Histoire de l’ occupation du Quartier Nord-Est du XIIe au XIVe siècle was published in 2016. Patrick Wing is Associate Professor of History at the University of Redlands in California. His research focuses on questions of political ideology and organization east and west of the Euphrates following the collapse of the Ilkhanate in the fourteenth century. He is the author of The Jalayirids: Dynastic state formation in the Mongol Middle East (Edinburgh 2016).

chapter 1

Mamluk Diplomatics: the Present State of Research Frédéric Bauden

1

Introduction

Diplomatics, one of the ancillary disciplines of history, aims at “studying the textual tradition, the form and the issuing process (or genesis) of written documents.”1 Its goals are to critically analyze documents, establish their authenticity and identify the common and peculiar elements in their texts, and to date and edit them.2 Historically, its main, if not sole, object was the study of original documents issued by (religious or secular) state chanceries in medieval Europe. In the twentieth century, diplomatics started to focus on administrative and private documents, including copies; more recently its temporal and geographic scopes have widened to the extent that they now include nonEuropean diplomatic traditions, like the Islamic or the Japanese traditions.3 While this openness certainly contributes to the renewal of diplomatics, it also means that the discipline has witnessed several developments that helped to broaden its horizon. Moreover, just as the field of diplomatic studies, i.e., those studies that concentrate on diplomacy, resumed over the last decades, leading to a reformulation of the field as ‘new diplomatic history,’4 several ‘turns’ (archival,5 performative6) and technological tools have impacted diplomatics in a similar way, making it even more appealing to new scholars, in spite of its deep roots in positivism.7 Over the past two centuries, diplomatics in the field of Islamic studies has seldom been addressed. It has been repeatedly argued that this disinterest was

1 Cárcel Ortí, Vocabulaire 21. 2 Guyotjeannin et al., Diplomatique médiévale 16. 3 As noted in the preface to this volume, the Commission Internationale de Diplomatique has recently widened its scope by including specialists of the non-European diplomatic traditions. 4 See Dekkiche’s state of the research in this volume. 5 On the archival turn, see Archival knowledge cultures; Archival transformations; Blair, Introduction; Delsalle, A history; de Vivo et al., Archival transformations; Friedrich, Die Geburt; Gilliland, Afterword; Head, Spaces. 6 On the performative turn, see Moeglin, « Performative Turn ». 7 On these latest developments, see Guyotjeannin, The expansion.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2019 | doi:10.1163/9789004384637_002

2

bauden

mainly due to the paucity of Islamic documentary sources before the Ottoman period, more specifically before the beginning of the eleventh/sixteenth century. However, as the last century has witnessed the identification and discovery of thousands of documents mainly written on papyrus, parchment, and paper covering larger chronological and geographical limits, the notion of a relative scarcity of documents must be moderated. As a consequence, the discipline witnessed a renewed attraction in the 1960s and 1970s; some of the most active scholars in this respect include Samuel Miklos Stern (d. 1969), Lajos Fekete (d. 1969), Adolf Grohmann (d. 1977), Claude Cahen (d. 1991), Hans Robert Roemer (d. 1997), John Wansbrough (d. 2002), Victor Louis Ménage (d. 2015), Heribert Busse, Valery Stojanow, and Rudolf Veselý. These scholars seeded hopes that the works of pioneers like Antoine-Isaac Silvestre de Sacy (d. 1838) and Michele Amari (d. 1889) would not remain in vain, nor would they go unchallenged. These scholars not only contributed to an increase in the body of documents published, they also approached questions linked to diplomatics as a discipline, by drawing inspiration from the achievements of medieval European diplomatists.8 Unsurprisingly, the period witnessed the publication of several articles and books in which these scholars tackled diplomatic issues for a given period or dynasty, particularly that of the Ayyubid,9 Ottoman,10 Timurid,11 Aq Qoyunlu,12 and Safavid documents.13 Some more general conclusions about diplomatics could also be drawn.14 The generation of scholars that followed in the 1990s, mostly represented by Yūsuf Rāghib and Werner Diem, continued the efforts of their predecessors, but focused their attention on unpublished documents, rather than improving the conclusions reached on diplomatic issues. In a way, they addressed the main problem posed by diplomatics; namely, that the discipline needs documents. More editions are thus required before a handbook of Arabic diplomatics can be written with

8

9 10 11 12 13 14

The common meaning of the word, according to the Oxford English Dictionary, is “one engaged in official diplomacy.” It is used here to refer to those researching the field of diplomatics (French diplomatiste). Hein, Beiträge. Reychman and Zajączkowski, Handbook; Fekete, Einführung; Horniker, Ottoman-Turkish diplomatics. Roemer, Staatsschreiben. Keçik, Briefe und Urkunden; Busse, Untersuchungen. Busse, Persische Diplomatik; Busse, Untersuchungen; Mitchell, Safavid imperial tarassul. See the articles on Daftar, Diplomatics, Dīwān, Imtiyāzāt, and Inshāʾ in EI2 as well as Cahen’s thoughts on the place of diplomatics in Islam in Cahen, Notes. See also the still useful bibliographic guide of Roncaglia, Essai bibliographique.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

3

confidence. The work of these scholars to publish previously unpublished (or unknown) documents has also included several—mostly Mamluk—chancery manuals and formularies, which, despite their prescriptive/normative inclination, constitute valuable tools to shed light on features observed in these documents. Consequently, it is no surprise that several publications have appeared since 2000, mostly dedicated to Arabic documents,15 and, in some cases also dealing with diplomatics and diplomacy.16 Nevertheless, the documents of the Mamluk period that are tied to diplomatic relations between the sultanate and other Muslim and non-Muslim powers have been of less interest to modern scholars for the simple reason that most of these documents were published between the mid-nineteenth and the mid-twentieth century. Rather than questioning their predecessors’ work, modern scholars have generally taken for granted the accuracy of the edited texts and the proposed identification of the categories to which these documents belong. This indiscriminate confidence has generated misunderstandings that have had consequences on studies dedicated to both diplomatics and diplomacy. To face these misunderstandings and correct their consequences, diplomatists must, in most cases, start from the beginning. This implies going back to the sources, i.e., the documents themselves, checking the readings and the translations, and reinterpeting their nature and their symbolic value. This process began a few years ago and will certainly yield groundbreaking results. While the quantity of data available has increased, and in turn our knowledge of the chancery rules applied by the secretaries has benefited, it is also true that several idées reçues are difficult to counter. Scholars continue to believe misconceptions based on a Eurocentric point of view or interpretation. Words like peace treaties, capitulations, and privileges are still used to describe documents or parts of documents that were never intended to mean that for the Mamluk chancery. In such cases, reference should be made to the technical terms describing these documents in the Mamluk diplomatic tradition. In this

15

16

Martínez de Castilla, Documentos; Regourd, Documents et histoire; and, since 2002, the various volumes of proceedings of the Conference of the International Society for Arabic Papyrology. These publications were preceded by Stern, Documents (1965), who set the ground for similar initiatives in the future. For the Mamluk period, see the state of the arts of Bauden, Mamluk era documentary studies; Reinfandt, Mamlūk documentary studies. Aigle and Bernardini, Correspondances diplomatiques; Aigle and Buresi, Les Relations diplomatiques; Aigle and Péquignot, La Correspondance; L’Autorité de l’écrit; Beihammer, Diplomatics; Favereau, Les Conventions.

4

bauden

volume, several contributions engage with these diplomatic issues in a variety of ways,17 leading to what diplomatics can achieve, even in reassessing the work of the past. This state of research, a necessary update, aims at presenting an outline of the results garnered during almost two centuries of research, and focuses exclusively on documents related to diplomatic exchanges with the Mamluk sultanate. It provides a detailed survey of the literature available on the documents preserved in archival repositories in Europe and Turkey; this should be read together with a census of these documents found in the appendix. At the same time, we emphasize the accomplishments made and the flaws identified in the works of the past. Notwithstanding, Mamluk diplomatics cannot be addressed on the sole basis of the preserved documents, not only because their number is relatively limited (thirty originals and one hundred translations), but also because their variety does not reflect the whole range of categories that were produced by the state chancery. Consequently, diplomatists have no choice but to consider other types of texts that may enhance their knowledge of the rules applied by the secretaries and broaden the corpus of documents. In a subsequent section, I have detailed in chronological order the prescriptive and normative texts, which include the chancery manuals and the formularies. I then list the descriptive works, i.e., collections of letters, which may be regarded in various respects as registers of documents. In both cases, I stress that while a large part of these texts has been published and studied, the value of others that remain in manuscript form still await assessment. On the basis of these sources, in the next section I delineate the main elements pertaining to Mamluk diplomatics, based on what can be derived from the examination of the documents identified in archival repositories and in textual sources. In so doing, my aim is not so much to detail all the rules that can be derived from the diplomatic study of these documents as it is to indicate the steps that still need to be taken in order to reach a satisfactory level of knowledge that could lead to the publication of a manual of Mamluk diplomatics.

2

Archives? Did You Say Archives?

To say that diplomatics would not exist without documents is a truism whose merit is to remind us that we need more than documents; archives are needed

17

See the contributions of Bauden, Boloix Gallardo, Chapoutot-Remadi, Dekkiche, Dewière, D’hulster, Frantz-Murphy, Reinfandt, and Rizzo.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

5

because diplomatists must rely on a significant number of written witnesses that also highlight the processes linked to their preservation. Archival processes are instrumental because, beyond providing answers to questions related to the practicalities of the preservation of documents, they also shed light on the reasons behind their preservation.18 Given these premises, one might argue that, in the absence of archives in Islam before the dawn of the tenth/sixteenth century, diplomatic studies are an impossibility in this field before that period. Such a position is too extreme, because, in terms of diplomatic relations, documents issued by the various Muslim chanceries are available in the archives of the recipients—almost exclusively European repositories. On the Muslim side, copies of letters received and the replies penned by the chanceries are also accessible in various kinds of sources. Several prescriptive works— chancery manuals and formularies—redacted by those who were active at the state chancery have also reached us. Notwithstanding the existence of these witnesses, it is clear that the task of diplomatists working in the Islamic realm is, if not impossible, more complicated than that of their colleagues working on the European side, mainly because of what has been termed ‘the silence of the archives.’19 The lack of archives before the Ottoman imperial age has puzzled scholars for decades. The debate has raged among historians of Islam who have tried, in many ways, to provide answers, putting forward various arguments that could explain the disappearance, rather than the lack, of archives in premodern Islam.20 With very few exceptions, historians have accepted the idea that, on the basis of the data given by the textual sources (prescriptive and narrative) and the documents themselves, archives did exist.21 The disappearance, whatever the processes lying behind it—loss, destruction, disposal—, is a 18

19 20

21

In recent years, remarkably, the debate has shifted to the latter aspect. This distinct interest in archival practices has been coined the ‘archival turn’. On this, see, in particular, Delsalle, A history; Friedrich, Die Geburt; Head, Spaces; and the following special issues in journals: Archival knowledge; Archival transformations. Loiseau, Le Silence des archives. As Picard, De l’ usage de l’ écrit 128, states, it is the destruction of the archives, not their absence that is problematic. For a review of the debate and the answers, see Bauden, Du destin des archives. See also, since then, Bausi et al., Manuscripts and archives; El-Leithy, Living documents; Friedrich, Epilogue; Hirschler, From archive; Martinez-Gros, Mise en écriture; Müller, Der Kadi; Müller, The Ḥaram al-Šarīf collection; Paul, Archival practices; Van Berkel, Archives. In addition to the references quoted in the previous note, see Rodinson, La Continuité; Bravmann, The state archives; Posner, Archives; Posner, Twelfth century “job descriptions” (where he describes the archival processes at the Fatimid chancery on the basis of a contemporary chancery manual).

6

bauden

challenging issue and thus far, no definite answer has been proposed. However, in this respect, the position of historians of Islam seems to have been mainly predicated on a Eurocentrist—and at times anachronistic—view. Given that archival repositories exist on the European continent, some holding documents that date back to the eighth and ninth centuries, it is generally assumed that the same practices were applied everywhere at the same time. European diplomatists and historians explain the survival of large quantities of documents by an ‘archival mindset’ that prevailed in many European states from the end of the eleventh century onward. The main reasons outlined for this survival in the Middle Ages are the great significance given to written law, which went hand in hand with a larger preservation of deeds and an increase in the production of documents due to notarial activities. Additionally, the emerging powers of medieval Europe began to rely more on documents to govern while, at the same time, the spread of the use of paper favored the growth of written evidence of all kinds. These factors were concomitant with the time the documents were issued. Other factors related to the later exploitation of the documents, when these started to be used for political and ideological purposes, leading to the reorganization of the archives in the modern period. The study of documents in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries for political reasons contributed to create a centripetal movement in which more documents were collected from various sources (religious and private archives, among others) and integrated with what had become national archives. The development of archives in Europe thus took place on a par with the notion of the nation-state.22 Historians of European archives also stress that the situation that prevailed across Europe was far from uniform.23 The discontinuous character of dynasties and the destructions and damnationes memoriae, all reasons that hinder the construction and preservation of archives, also existed in Europe.24 In fact, the issue of lost memory25 was not peculiar to Islam. The survey of documents linked to the diplomatic exchanges between the Mamluk sultanate and other powers that have been preserved in archives shows that the European counterparts of the Mamluks did not necessarily pay particular attention to the 22

23 24

25

For Aragon, see McCrank, Documenting Reconquest; Péquignot, ‘No hay nada.’ For Italy, see Dover, Deciphering the diplomatic archives. See also Péquignot, Le Cadre des échanges, in Moeglin and Péquignot, Diplomatie; Bougard, Mise en écriture 18. Bougard, Mise en écriture 17. See Péquignot, Le Cadre des échanges, in Moeglin and Péquignot, Diplomatie 128 and 141. For the contemporary period, see Filippov and Sabaté, Identity and loss, especially on the destruction of archives and libraries in Sarajevo at the end of the twentieth century. See La Mémoire perdue for the loss of the archives of ancient Rome.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

7

preservation of the original documents they received. For instance, the archives of the Crown of Aragon in Barcelona hold the greatest number of original Mamluk documents starting from the end of the seventh/thirteenth century; nevertheless, it is clear that archival practices were not uniform over the centuries. Catalan documents addressed to Mamluk authorities (the last one dated 1508) demonstrate that while relations with the Mamluk sultanate lasted until its downfall in 1517, the latest Mamluk document preserved in Barcelona dates from 833/1430 and the latest (in translation) dates from 842/1439. This decline in preservation not only shows that archival practices were applied unevenly; it also helps us to envision the number of documents that were lost. Original letters have rarely survived in the European archives,26 and when they did, it is because they were related to specific cases or for political or ideological reasons.27 Our knowledge of the correspondence between the Mamluk sultans and the European powers is much better because of the copies of the translations that were recorded in the European registers. The Venetian archives, which are well-known for the richness of their collections, is a case in point: while they have only one original Mamluk letter from the end of the ninth/fifteenth century, its registers contain seventy-four translations of Mamluk documents covering the whole period of Mamluk rule. This translation and registration activity certainly helps to explain why the archivists disposed of the original Mamluk documents. The language barrier—documents in a language and a handwriting that could only be interpreted by a very few people— also played a role in this respect. In the Islamic world in general, and during the Mamluk period in particular, other strategies were at play.28 Recently, several scholars have proposed various keys by which to interpret and apprehend the question of the disappearance of archives. I also emphasized that the number of documents that has survived indicates that the Mamluks were also fond of red tape.29 Tamer El-Leithy has proposed that we consider the concept of archives from a different perspective.30 More recently, Konrad Hirschler has stressed that scholars should rather focus their attention on the provincial chanceries, which were no less active

26 27 28 29 30

Péquignot, Le Cadre des échanges, in Moeglin and Péquignot, Diplomatie 139. His comment applies to diplomatic letters in European archives in general, whatever their origin. For instance, letters received from eastern rulers were kept and/or registered by the papacy as evidence of its universal relevance. See Tanase, Les Mongols. See Hirschler, From archive. Bauden, Mamluk era documentary studies; Bauden, Du destin des archives. El-Leithy, Living documents. See also Vallet, Des “sultans-secrétaires?”, for the Rasulid dynasty.

8

bauden

than the state chancery in Cairo.31 In another contribution, I address the question of the fate of the archives of the dīwān al-inshāʾ, i.e., the state chancery where foreign letters were archived in bundles according to the month during which they were received.32 According to al-Qalqashandī (d. 821/1418), who worked for the state chancery in Cairo starting from 791/1389,33 this archival system had already been downgraded, at least in comparison to earlier periods, when the contents of letters were recorded in registers in addition to the archiving of the originals.34 The use of registers for diplomatic letters seems to have been reinstated at the beginning of the ninth/fifteenth century, when, under the reign of al-Muʾayyad Shaykh (r. 815–24/1412–21), Nāṣir al-Dīn Ibn al-Bārizī, the chief secretary between 815/1413 and 823/1420, restored the practice of copying the contents of the most significant of the incoming and outgoing letters in a register in his own hand.35 The reestablishment of an old practice such as this may also explain the presence of several collections of letters, which may have functioned as registers, for that very century.36 Moreover, it might give us a clue about the disappearance of the original letters. One letter from the Qara Qoyunlu ruler and another from the Rasulid sultan that reached Cairo during 31 32 33 34

35

36

Hirschler, From archive. See also the recent contributions to the debate by Paul, Archival practices, and Friedrich, Epilogue. Bauden, Du destin des archives 34–5. On him, see below. Al-Qalqashandī explains this practice of the past in detail, with more than a hint of nostalgia for what he considered a good practice that should not have been discontinued. His argument is fair enough; we can see this same nostalgia and desire for tradition at play in the recent—unsuccessful—attempt to abolish a thousand-year-old practice of recording laws on goat and calf skin in England. See https://www.theguardian.com/politics/2016/ feb/15/lords‑overruled‑recording‑laws‑vellum‑goat‑calf‑skin (consulted on 18 July 2017). With regard to the registers, we know that long-standing chancery practices were still in use at the end of the eighth/fourteenth century. Al-Maqrīzī, who worked for some years at the chancery during that period, borrowed a sign that was used in registers to indicate that the original document had been issued. This sign has been attested in a fragment of a chancery register from the Fatimid period. See Bauden, Maqriziana II 111. The same sign has been identified in holographs of another scholar, one of al-Maqrīzī’s friends and colleagues, Ibn Ḥajar al-ʿAsqalānī (d. 852/1449). Al-Qalqashandī, Ḍawʾ al-Ṣubḥ 52 (wa-qad akhadha l-maqarr al-ashraf al-Nāṣirī ṣāḥib dīwān al-inshāʾ fī l-dawla al-muʾayyadiyya Shaykh fī ḍabṭ muhimm al-mukātabāt al-ṣādira wa-l-wārida bi-daftar bi-khaṭṭihi). This sentence is absent in Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā (i, 139), an indication that it was added between 814/1412, the date of the completion of Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā, and 821/1418, when he finished Ḍawʾ al-Ṣubḥ. See also Björkman, Beiträge 39. This example tallies with the idea that archives are more the result of initiatives taken by individuals, clerks, and those active at the chancery, than by governments. See Martinez-Gros, Mise en écriture 23; Morelle, Usages 121. On these, see below.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

9

Ibn al-Bārizī’s period found their way into the holographs of the Egyptian historian al-Maqrīzī (d. 845/1442) who reused them as scrap paper.37 In the case of the Rasulid letter, Ibn Ḥijja (d. 837/1434), who was in charge of the redaction of deeds and letters (munshiʾ), recorded its text, and the answer he drafted at Ibn al-Bārizī’s request, in his personal collection of documents (Qahwat alinshāʾ).38 Both original letters were thus discarded because they were lent or given to al-Maqrīzī by Ibn Ḥijja or Ibn al-Bārizī who had already recorded a copy of them.39 The language barrier may also provide another hint about the reason for the disposal of diplomatic letters in the Mamluk period.40 When al-Qalqashandī describes letters received from Christian rulers in his magnum opus, he quotes only three examples that arrived at the chancery in 814/1411–2, i.e., the year he completed his manual, as if he could not access older letters.41 Other, definitely more tragic, events may have impacted the archives. One momentous example was reported by al-Maqrīzī, who also worked at the state chancery in his early career. Thanks to his testimony, we know that around 791– 2/1389–90, at a time of great political turmoil for the sultanate, the documents stored in a room of the state chancery were looted and sold by weight. In order to stress that these were documents and not just blank paper, he specifies that their contents were lost.42 In addition to what this report tells us about the situation that led to the disappearance of one section of the state archives (the one that held the diplomatic letters, among others), this episode enlightens us about the fate of these documents. Al-Maqrīzī does not detail the categories of documents that were stolen (original letters and/or registers). Whatever the case may be, they were clearly still valuable because they could be reused. The

37 38 39

40 41 42

The Qara Qoyunlu letter is the topic of my article in this volume. For the reconstruction of the Rasulid letter, see Bauden, Yemeni-Egyptian diplomatic exchanges. On him and his work, see below. Al-Maqrīzī’s interest in these letters might have arisen while he was writing his chronicle on the Mamluks, al-Sulūk, but nothing is certain. He does provide some information about the embassies, as well as news that both letters conveyed, but he refrains from giving the full text of the letters or even mentioning that he had read them. This was suggested by Lammens, Correspondances diplomatiques 368, though in polemical terms. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubh al-aʿshā viii, 121–5. See Bauden, The recovery 74. Al-Qalqashandī had started to work at the state chancery around the time this episode took place. With very few exceptions, he found the documents he quotes in his Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā as copies in other sources. For instance, when he mentions the truces concluded with the crusader states, he does so via (Muḥammad b. alMukarram) Ibn Manẓūr’s Tadhkirat al-labīb wa-nuzhat al-adīb. See al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā xiv, 70ff. and Björkman, Beiträge 77, on this source. On al-Qalqashandī’s sources in general, see Veselý, Zu den Quellen.

10

bauden

original letters, if issued by the eastern chanceries, were in the shape of rolls with large interlinear spaces on the recto and no text on the verso.43 These rolls thus offered wide blank spaces. These could be cut into several pieces to combine into quires that could be reused as scrap paper by scholars like alMaqrīzī.44 The reuse of chancery and private documents has since attracted the attention of other researchers;45 we know that the practice was not specific to the Mamluk period46 or even the Islamic world.47 With regard to the registers, the usefulness of reusing them is less obvious. On the basis of a unique sample of a fragment of a register from the Fatimid period,48 we can confirm that little space was left blank on the sheets in the registers, thus, reusing them the way the scrolls were reused does not seem possible. However, I have recently established that recycled paper was produced in the Mamluk sultanate.49 In such a case, even registers full of ink could have been given new life.50

3

Documents in Archival Repositories

In what follows, I review the present state of research on documents related to diplomacy (as defined above), including those that are preserved in archives (originals51 and/or translations in the case of documents issued by the Mamluk chancery; and copies in registers for those issued by the other chanceries).52 43 44

45 46

47 48 49 50 51

52

See below. In Bauden, The recovery 75, I tentatively connected the reused documents found in his notebook with the event he reported regarding the looting. I revised this interpretation in Bauden, Du destin 38. It is also worth mentioning that I have now found evidence of chancery documents being reused by another scholar, Ibn Ḥajar, a contemporary of alMaqrīzī. See Hirschler, Document reuse. For a Persian document dated 892/1487 that was glued on the pastedown of a Persian manuscript datable to the tenth/sixteenth century, see Afshar, Catalogue 276–7 and figs. 10–1 (Tārīkh-i Shāh Ismāʿīl, MS Or. Hs. 542, Vienna, Haus-, Hof- und Staatsarchiv). An example of a Fatimid document is attested in the Genoese archives for the twelfth century. See the references in Bauden, Du destin 41. Khan, A copy of a decree. The paper produced was unusable for writing because of its color (it was probably grey from the ink). Its use was thus limited to wrapping. See Bauden, A note. For other uses of documents, see Bauden, Du destin 43–4. In diplomatic terms, the original document refers to the initial deed established, which expresses the final form and the will of the author of the deed; it is thus deemed authentic. The perfect deed either bears validation marks or was issued in such an authentic condition that it is evidently authentic. See Cárcel Ortí, Vocabulaire 30 (no. 42). In fact, we do not review copies of documents found in the sources. Though a comprehen-

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

11

With the exception of the Ottomans, the vast majority of these documents are in European repositories, because this archival material mainly relates to European powers. This prevalence does pose some problems in terms of diplomatics for the Mamluk side, as the guidelines applied by the Mamluk chancery for non-Muslim rulers largely differed from those it followed for Muslim rulers, as we will see. I review these documents according to the classification adopted in the survey found at the end of this state of research: the various powers are organized in descending order, by the number of original Mamluk documents held. This classification is justified by the fact that originals generally have a greater value in the eyes of the diplomatist. 3.1 Aragon The Archives of the Crown of Aragon (Archivo de la Corona de Aragón, ACA) in Barcelona is renowned for the quantity, the quality, and the variety of documents it has preserved from the time of the High Middle Ages. This prominence is undisputed, in terms of the documents that emanated from Muslim chanceries. Regarding the Mamluk sultanate, the ACA holds the largest number of original Mamluk documents (eleven),53 and in terms of quality and variety, the collection is far superior to the other archives in Europe. The collection is particularly notable for what appears to be the oldest original truce (hudna) concluded between a Christian ruler, James II (r. 1285–1327), and a Mamluk sultan, al-Ashraf Khalīl (r. 689–93/1290–3). Dated 19 Ṣafar 692/29 January 1293, shortly after the sultan had conquered the last Frankish stronghold in Syria, the truce is remarkable for several reasons. It not only reproduces, almost identically, a former truce agreed upon by the predecessors of both rulers, al-Manṣūr Qalāwūn (r. 678–89/1279–90) and Alphonso III (r. 1285–91), three years earlier,54 but its text has been fully transcribed by al-Qalqashandī

53

54

sive survey of such copies would certainly be useful, it is well beyond the goals set for this state of research in terms of diplomatics. It would also require much more space than is feasible in the framework of this volume. Finally, most of these copies have already been reviewed by Malika Dekkiche in her state of research on diplomacy that follows the current state of research on diplomatics; the references she quotes there often mention these copies preserved in the sources. With very few exceptions, all these documents have been described and digitized on the portal of the Spanish archives (pares.mcu.es): under “Archivo de la Corona de Aragón,” then “Diversos y colleciones,” and “Cartas árabes.” This includes all the Arabic documents (a total of 211) exchanged by various Muslim dynasties with the Crown of Aragon, but not the fragments that recently resurfaced (see n. 58 below). The original of this truce is lost, but its text is known thanks to Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir (d. 692/

12

bauden

in his opus magnum.55 Moreover, the translation prepared by the Aragonese chancery and a copy of the letter addressed by James II to his Muslim counterpart asking for the negotiation have been kept.56 Unfortunately, the original document of the truce is poorly preserved: the text starts in what appears to be the middle of the document, the upper part of the roll is missing, and bookworms have damaged several parts of the text, particularly on the left side where the lines end. These lacunae led the editors of most of the Arabic documents preserved at the ACA to prefer the copy registered by al-Qalqashandī over the original.57 Since this publication, two fragments of this document, corresponding to the initial part and one section of the first half, have resurfaced in the ACA.58 Most of the remaining original Mamluk documents are no less significant in terms of diplomatics, as they represent an exceptional dossier of letters addressed by al-Nāṣir Muḥammad (r. 693–4/1293–4, 698–708/1299–1309, 709– 41/1310–41) to two Aragonese kings, James II and Alphonso IV (r. 1327–36) respectively. The diplomatic correspondence, as attested by the original Mamluk letters (see fig. 1.3), which covers a period of thirty years, is the oldest preserved for the Mamluk period; it allows us to study and analyze original documents that are unique in many respects. Three lists of gifts, two appended to the end of the letters and one kept separately, also offer a rare opportunity to tackle this category of documents that is not described in the chancery manuals or in the sources.59 In addition to these original Arabic documents, the ACA collection also holds nine translations, some of which are linked to

55 56 57 58

59

1293), a contemporary witness who was the secretary of state and the head of the Mamluk chancery for several years. The copy was transcribed in his biography of al-Manṣūr Qalāwūn, Tashrīf al-ayyām 156–64. A French translation was published by Silvestre de Sacy, Extrait. The Arabic text was first published in Amari, Biblioteca 342–52, and translated into Italian by the same, in La guerra 588–97 (no. XXXI). It was then translated into English by Holt, Early Mamluk diplomacy 132–40. See also Holt, The Mamluk sultanate. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā xiv, 63–70. Respectively ACA, Cancillería, Cartas reales, Jaime II, no. 222 and ACA, Cancillería, Registro 252, fols. 38a–39b. Alarcón y Santón and García de Linares, Los Documentos 335–8 (no. 145). Al-Qalqashandī’s version was edited and translated into Italian by Amari, Trattato stipolato. These fragments have not been digitized and are thus absent from the portal referred to above. This document, and the others linked to it mentioned above, are the topic of a paper to be read by the present writer and Marta Rubio Manso at the Fifteenth International Congress of Diplomatics (Sources for the History of “International” Relations between Political Centres in Europe and the Mediterranean (ca. 800–1600): Letters— Charters—Treaties), Leipzig, 4–6 October 2018. See nos. 2, 5–6 in the Survey under Aragon and Bauden, Lists of gifts.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

13

the former, and no fewer that seventy-one copies of documents issued by the Aragonese chancery (mostly letters and, in smaller numbers, instructions delivered to ambassadors). Despite the incredible quality of these documents, the study of the whole corpus shows that particularly in the fifteenth century, archivists were far from consistent in the attention they paid to original Mamluk documents. As stressed in the previous section, this decrease in the rate of preservation of documents from the Mamluk side shows once more that archival practices in European repositories were far from uniform. As one might expect, such an extraordinary corpus has long drawn the attention of scholars. The Aragonese documents were first published in the eighteenth century, in the framework of the movement that saw the emergence of the exploitation of archival material for historical purposes,60 with the contribution of Antoni de Capmany de Montpalau i de Surís (1742–1813),61 then followed, in the nineteenth century, by Pròsper de Bofarull i Mascaré (1777– 1859), who was the general archivist of the ACA.62 The vast majority of these documents were published by several scholars in the twentieth century.63 As for the original Mamluk documents, their existence was only revealed in 1903 by Julián Ribera (1858–1934) though his ‘discovery’ dated back to 1888.64 Ribera was responsible for the preparation of a survey of all the Arabic documents held at the ACA; this survey has remained an essential tool for archivists and all the scholars who visit the institution. Nevertheless, Ribera’s publication remained largely unknown outside Spain. It is thanks to a small publication (1938) made by Aziz Suryal Atiya (1898–1988), whose interest in these texts emerged during his preparatory work for his book The Crusades in the Later Middle Ages (1938),

60

61 62 63

64

See Péquignot, La Publication. The Arabic documents are still greatly valued by the authorities of the ACA, who are fully aware of their significance for the history of diplomatic relations between the Crown of Aragon in general, and Catalonia in modern terms, and various Islamic dynasties in the Middle Ages. Evidence of this burst of interest can be appreciated from the digitization of all the documents in question as well as the display of the most noteworthy during the 2009 exhibition El Perfume de la amistad: Correspondencia diplomática árabe en archivos españoles (siglos XIII–XVII), organized at the ACA. See the exhibition catalogue El Perfume de la amistad. de Capmany y de Monpalau, Antiguos tratados; de Capmany y de Monpalau, Memorias. de Bofarull y Mascaré, Colección. Rubió y Lluch, Diplomatari; Masiá de Ros, La Corona de Aragón; López de Meneses, Florilegio; López de Meneses, Los consulados; López de Meneses, Correspondencia; López de Meneses, Pedro el Ceremonosio. Ribera, Manuscritos arábigos. Much later, González Maurazos, La documentación diplómatica, presented an incomplete survey of some of al-Nāṣir Muḥammad’s letters and related Catalan documents.

14

bauden

that the existence of the Mamluk corpus was finally unveiled to the scientific community.65 This Coptic scholar focused his attention on the corpus of letters addressed by al-Nāṣir Muḥammad; he made a list of these letters and provided a partial edition and a translation. While it is clear that his intention was to devote more attention to this corpus, the outbreak of World War II prevented him from doing so. At about the same time, two major contributions appeared that derailed his future plans. In 1939, Reginaldo Ruiz Orsatti published an edition and Spanish translation of the draft of a treaty negotiated between al-Ashraf Barsbāy (r. 825– 41/1422–38) and Alphonso V (r. 1416–58) in 833/1430.66 A year later, two Spanish scholars, Maximiliano Agustín Alarcón y Santón (1880–1932) and Ramón García de Linares reaped the fruits of a long project first launched by Ribera at the dawn of the century (and, it would seem, completely ignored by Atiya). Delayed by the Civil War that raged in Spain, the project, which aimed to edit and translate all the Arabic documents held at the ACA, was finally published.67 The Mamluk documents included in the book were not complete. In addition to a list of gifts that was strangely left out,68 the two scholars neglected to consider a document that was labeled the “Accursed Riddle” (el damero maldito).69 The reason for this description is clear from the state of the document, which corresponds to the decree issued by al-Ashraf Barsbāy for Catalan merchants, the draft of which (mentioned above) had already been published by Ruiz Orsatti. Now, the document looks like a collection of 111 fragments of the same size— with no loss of text—, meaning that the original roll was cut into pieces for unknown reasons.70 It is indeed a riddle, as the fragments were not numbered immediately after it was reduced to such a state. The challenge for any editor is, of course, to reconstruct the original text and put the fragments in the correct order, which is, despite the comparative material available (the draft and

65 66 67

68 69 70

Atiya, Egypt and Aragon. He had announced his ‘discovery’ a year before: Atiya, Mamlūk Correspondence. See no. 10 in the Survey under Aragon. Another edition, with some improvements, was later proposed by Makkī, Muʿāhada. Alarcón y Santón and García de Linares, Los Documentos. Most of the documents were then reproduced in al-Ḥājjī, al-ʿAlāqāt, with no improvement. See also al-Nashshār, ʿAlāqat. See no. 5 in the Survey under Aragon. Meanwhile, its text was published and translated by Atiya, Egypt and Aragon, with several mistakes. See no. 11 in the Survey under Aragon. Perhaps this was done to enable it to be placed on a shelf more easily than a roll? Or because some archivist planned to reuse the sheets as scrap paper?

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

15

similar documents), no easy task. This hurdle was finally taken by Mercè Viladrich who proposed to reconstruct it with an edition and translation of the text.71 All in all, the Aragonese corpus can rightly be considered one of the richest, with its twenty documents from the Mamluk side (eleven in Arabic and nine in translation). With the exception of the 692/1293 truce, all of these documents have been edited and translated, in some cases, more than once, leaving the impression that nothing remains to be done. Still, a close look at the available editions reveals that the editors wrongly deciphered some words, and rarely paid attention to the physical details of the documents that they were transcribing. With regard to diplomatics, a wide gamut of elements were overlooked or barely described, like the writing material, the layout, the measures, and the handwriting, to mention but a few. Such elements, significant for the accurate and comprehensive interpretation of the documents, cannot be supplied by later editors, as most of the documents were not reproduced in these publications.72 Given this, a new edition that meets all the requirements of diplomatics is fully justified.73 3.2 Florence In 1422, Florence embarked on an ambitious project to strengthen its system of trade relations and boost its commerce in the Mediterranean, and more importantly, with the Mamluk sultanate. The Medici sought to achieve this goal through improved diplomatic relations between the two powers. Though ultimately the commercial project was not as successful as expected, it contributed to regular, albeit infrequent, diplomatic exchanges. The State Archives of Florence (Archivio di Stato di Firenze, ASF) and the Laurentian Library (Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana, BML) still preserve a collection of the tangible evidence of the diplomatic missions carried out by Florentine and Mamluk envoys. Thanks to these and other sources, it has been possible to establish that,

71 72

73

Viladrich, Jaque al-Sultán; Viladrich, Solving. The reconstruction and the edition need to be improved. Ruiz Orsatti, Tratado, was the only one to provide a reproduction of the edited document, though it is of poor quality and its reduced size prohibits any improvement of the edition or analysis of its diplomatic characteristics. The project The Diplomatic Exchanges between Islamic Mediterranean Powers and Christian European Cities in the Middle Ages: New Methods for the Analysis of Documents was launched by Roser Salicrú i Lluch (CSIC, Barcelona) with the specific aim of editing, translating, and interpreting all the Arabic and Catalan documents linked to those that are held at the ACA. The Mamluk constituent is my responsibility.

16

bauden

in less than a century, between 1422 and 1510, the Florentines sent ten missions to Cairo while the Mamluks dispatched only three envoys.74 At present, nineteen Mamluk documents (ten originals and nine translations) and nine copies of documents issued by the Florentine authorities are still held in the ASF and the BML.75 The preservation of ten original Mamluk documents makes Florence the second most significant repository in terms of quantity. But the Florentine collections are also notable for another characteristic. Most of the Mamluk documents consist of letters and decrees, some of which were addressed to Florence and the remainder to Mamluk authorities. The presence of the latter in the Florentine repositories reveals that Florence specifically asked for copies of the documents that the Mamluk chancery issued and dispatched to their representatives76 (usually the governors, predominantly those in Alexandria and Damascus) for decisions taken in favor of Florentine merchants, decisions that these representatives were ordered to implement. This phenomenon was not peculiar to Florence and seems to have been practiced by the Venetians at the onset of the fourteenth century at the earliest. The documents found at the ASF drew the attention of scholars as early as the middle of the nineteenth century. Michele Amari (1806–89), a Sicilian political émigré who spent several years in France where he studied Arabic, was the first to pore over the documents linked to Islam at the ASF. In the context of exploiting archival material to further political interests (in this case, the unification of Italy, the first capital of which was Florence), in 1863 Amari published a thick volume of about one hundred documents, including all the Arabic (originals and translations) as well as the Italian documents that he could identify in the archives.77 Four years later, Amari published a supplement of thirty-four documents, including translations from the Arabic and documents issued by the Pisan and Florentine authorities.78 These two books quickly became references for historians of trade and diplomacy between Europe and the Muslim

74 75 76

77 78

See Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion i, 78. To these, a copy of a letter in an eighteenth-century source must be added. See no. 29 in the Survey under Florence. Although they were addressed to a specific (internal) authority, these were in fact multiple exemplars of the same document and as such were all original because they could not be differentiated from one another (they were in the same shape, had same kind of handwriting, and the same validation marks). Thus, it is incorrect to use the term “copy” here, though it allows us to distinguish between them. The volume also includes documents related to Pisa, which came under the control of Florence from 1421, at which point its archives were incorporated. Amari, I diplomi … Appendice.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

17

world,79 despite the quality of Amari’s work. Unfortunately, no one took care to verify the accuracy of his editions by comparing them with the documents. The lack of reproductions in Amari’s book certainly contributed to the historians’ impression that they could content themselves with his work. Though it seemed that Amari had published all the material available, other documents from the Mamluk period had yet to be unveiled, perhaps because they were in another repository. It was only in the 1960s that the American scholar John Wansbrough (1928–2002), whose interest in the history of diplomatic and commercial relations between Venice and the Mamluk sultanate resulted in his PhD dissertation, became aware of the existence of two unpublished Mamluk documents kept at the Laurentian Library, where they had been transferred from the Biblioteca Imperiale Palatina in 1771.80 Wansbrough published these two documents separately and identified them as commercial treaties.81 Though he had access to more sources than Amari—particularly related to diplomatic rules like al-Qalqashandī’s Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā which had been published in the meantime—, his work remained far from perfect. In fact, his interpretation of these documents as commercial treaties was recently refuted.82 In the context of his PhD dissertation (defended in 2017) devoted to the diplomatic relations between Florence and the Mamluk sultanate, Alessandro Rizzo reviewed the whole corpus from the beginning, and offers, among other things, an edition that is respectful of the documents and pays attention to external and internal details.83 He has not only corrected the mistakes of Amari and Wansbrough in the decipherment of some words, but also more correctly interpreted the true nature of the documents. In the present volume, he offers a stunning demonstration of his work on one of the documents published by Wansbrough and two others by Amari. He is able to demontrate that, contrary to Amari’s interpretation, two of the documents are dated 902/1497 and not 901/1496. Moreover, he corrects Wansbrough’s interpretation that one of the documents from the BML is a treaty; he shows that in fact, it is a letter addressed

79 80 81 82 83

Louis de Mas Latrie’s Traités, largely based on Amari’s translations, revealed the existence of the documents to a wider audience. Wansbrough, Venice and Florence 485. Bernard Lewis informed him of their existence there. Wansbrough, Venice and Florence; Wansbrough, A Mamlūk commercial treaty. See Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion. Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion. He is currently preparing the corpus for publication; it will appear separately from his historical study of the diplomatic relations between Florence and the Mamluk sultanate.

18

bauden

to the governor of Damascus.84 These two examples confirm that the work of our predecessors should not be taken for granted and that these documents must be analyzed in light of the developments witnessed over the past decades by scholars of the ‘New Diplomatics.’ 3.3 Venice The contacts of the Republic of Venice—the Serenissima as it is usually called—with Egypt are attested by documents from the twelfth century on. Some eighty documents covering the whole period of Mamluk rule are evidence of the intensity of their trade relations with the Mamluk sultanate. Nevertheless, only two of these documents, dating from the end of the Mamluk period, are in Arabic; the remainder are translations.85 Thus, although the collections of the State Archives (Archivio di Stato di Venezia, ASVe) are among the most remarkable in terms of the quantity of documents preserved, from the point of view of diplomatics, for the Mamluk side it is disappointing that most of these documents are in fact translations of original documents that have been discarded in one way or another. Most of these translations concern letters and decrees; the latter category is often addressed to the authorities of the sultanate in relation to Venetian merchants. While the two original Mamluk documents have only recently attracted the attention of scholars,86 the translations, on the other hand, raised the interest of historians as early as the mid-nineteenth century. Two of these were published by the Byzantinist Gottlieb Lukas Friedrich Tafel (1787–1860), whose work was continued by Georg Martin Thomas (1817–87) with the help of Riccardo Predelli (1840–1909); Thomas and Predelli added several other documents related to diplomatic relations between Venice and the Mamluks.87 Amari also edited copies of translations of several documents obtained by the Venetians. These copies had been prepared at the request of the Florentine authorities who deemed it necessary to have full knowledge of the benefits

84

85

86 87

In 2016, the upper part of the two documents (one preserved at the ASF and the other at the BML) containing the address (ʿunwān) were discovered in the BML. These corroborate Rizzo’s interpretation of the nature of these documents. There exists a third original Arabic document (now held at the Oriental Institute in Chicago), which is the subject of Gladys Frantz-Murphy’s contribution to this volume. See no. 3 in the Survey under Venice. For the Mamluk documents at the ASVe in general, see Bauden, The Mamluk documents. See nos. 1 and 2 in the Survey under Venice. Tafel and Thomas, Urkunden; Thomas and Predelli, Diplomatarium. Several of these documents were then translated into French by de Mas Latrie, Traités.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

19

the Serenissima had secured for its merchants in the Mamluk territories.88 In 1953, the Egyptian scholar Tawfīq Iskandar defended his PhD dissertation on the commercial and political relations between Venice and the Mamluk sultanate.89 He planned to publish several of the documents he had studied, but only the first volume was published.90 This document relates to Pietro Diedo’s 1490 embassy to Cairo, the aim of which was to secure the smooth transition of Cyprus to Venetian control after the abdication of its last ruler, Catherine Cornaro. From 1427, Cyprus paid an annual tribute to the Mamluk sultanate, which considered the island a vassal state. This meant that Venice had to seek the sultan’s approval before taking full control of this outpost that was critical for its trade in the eastern Mediterranean. The series of documents linked to the negotiation led by the Venetian ambassador was preserved at the ASVe and finally published by Franco Rossi in 1988.91 Two additional documents related to this affair can only be found in Louis de Mas Latrie’s book on the history of Cyprus.92 In 1961, John Wansbrough submitted a PhD dissertation dealing with the history of commercial relations between Egypt and Venice (1442–1512);93 in subsequent years he published a number of articles of edited Arabic documents linked to this subject, but those that his dissertation contains remained largely unpublished.94 Most of these documents were later edited by Maria Pia Pedani, who devoted an article to the last agreements between the Venetian authorities and the Mamluks.95 To our knowledge, the most recent addition of this corpus was made by Benjamin Arbel, who discovered a copy of a letter addressed by the executive secretary of the sultan to the Venetian doge in 877/1473.96 This is further proof that although the collections of the ASVe have been examined in detail for more than one and a half centuries, they still hold delightful surprises. In addition to the unknown items that we must continue to

88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95

96

Amari, I diplomi. See nos. 28–35 in the Survey under Venice. Iskandar, Les Relations commerciales. No copy of this dissertation is known to have been preserved. Iskandar, Documents inédits. See no. 47 in the Survey under Venice. Rossi, Ambasciata. See nos. 42–50, 79 in the Survey under Venice. de Mas Latrie, Histoire. See nos. 51–2 in the Survey under Venice. Wansbrough, Documents. See nos. 40, 59–60, 68, 70–3 in the Survey under Venice. No. 63 was later published by Wansbrough, see A Mamluk ambassador. Pedani, Gli ultimi accordi. With the exception of nos. 71–3 (and no. 63 already published by Wansbrough), all the documents mentioned in the previous note are included in Pedani’s edition. Arbel, Levantine power struggles. See no. 41 in the Survey under Venice.

20

bauden

search for, other documents also remain unpublished so far. These include two translations from 821/1418: one made in the Venetian consulate in Alexandria of a decree addressed by the Cairene chancery to the governor of Alexandria and the second, a safe-conduct issued for the Venetians.97 Another document, this one issued by the Mamluk chancery and thus a unique original piece held by ASVe, is in process of publication. It deals with the tribute that Venice agreed to continue to pay to the Mamluk authorities in exchange for its takeover of Cyprus.98 In this volume, Gladys Frantz-Murphy tackles one of the latest additions to the corpus of Mamluk documents on Venice. The document is now preserved in the Oriental Institute in Chicago. Its previous owner, Bernhard Moritz (1859–1939), had been the director of the Khedival Library in Cairo and managed to acquire a collection of manuscripts and documents that he sold to the Oriental Institute in 1929. Moritz published the document in 1915 and identified it as the first firmān issued by the Ottomans for the Venetians at the time of the conquest of Egypt.99 This attribution was indiscriminately accepted until Frantz-Murphy re-examined the text in a new light and concluded that the document was actually a draft of a text likely prepared by the Venetians to be issued by the last Mamluk sultan who had already fled Cairo.100 In addition to the copies preserved in various registers at the ASVe, another Venetian source provides a few more documents that need to be addressed here: Marino Sanuto’s (1466–1536) diaries. Sanuto played a major political role in the administration of the Venetian Republic, as he served in its senate from 1498 to 1516. During these and subsequent years, he kept a diary that truly constitutes a universal history of the close ties between the Serenissima and the various powers in Europe and beyond, along with the news that reached Venice steadily, day by day. Moreover, his diary covers the last years and the downfall of Mamluk rule and constitutes a unique witness of the exchanges that took place during this period between Venice and the sultanate; it includes numerous copies of official documents, among them translations of Mamluk letters and decrees that were not recorded in the Venetian archives. This mine of information only became available at the end of the nineteenth century.101 A later

97 98 99 100 101

See nos. 24–5 in the Survey under Venice. See no. 2 in the Survey under Venice. Moritz, Ein Firman. The document was then translated by Hartmann, Das Privileg. See no. 3 in the Survey under Venice. See her contribution in this volume. Sanuto, Diarii was published in fifty-eight volumes between 1879 and 1903. It contains sev-

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

21

Venetian historian, Carlo Antonio Marin (1745–1815) also transmitted the text of a decree on the basis of the copy registered in the ASVe.102 3.4 Ragusa The Republic of Ragusa (now Dubrovnik) engaged in diplomatic relations with the Mamluk sultanate shortly before its end, although Dalmatian merchants had been active in its territories for centuries.103 Consequently, the Dubrovnik State Archives (Državni Arhiv u Dubrovniku, DAD) does not hold a huge number of Mamluk documents related to diplomatic contacts. Only three have been identified and they confirm that the Ragusan Republic only entered into negotiations over trade in the tenth/sixteenth century. Along with a letter addressed by the govenor of Alexandria to the ruler of Ragusa in 916/1510, the DAD also contains a letter of Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī (r. 906–22/1501–16) and a decree by the same, dated 921/1515. In addition to the confirmation of various clauses aimed at protecting the Dalmatian merchants, both the letter and the decree are related to the request from Ragusa to be allowed to establish a consulate in Alexandria. At that precarious period for the Mamluks, the sultan, eager to encourage trade, granted the consulate without complications. The three documents are known thanks to the edition and the Croatian translation provided by a local scholar, Besim Korkut.104 His work, which includes facsimiles of the documents, was recently translated into Arabic to reach a wider audience.105 The value of the collections of the DAD await evaluation to establish whether or not translations of Mamluk documents and copies of Ragusan documents sent to Cairo are still available in the registers. 3.5 Ottomans As noted in the following section, contacts between the Ottomans and the Mamluks, which we know began in the mid-eighth/fourteenth century106 and intensified during the ninth/fifteenth century until the Ottomans vanquished the Mamluks, are documented in several collections of documents. Thus, given

102

103 104 105 106

enteen documents of interest for our purpose. See nos. 53–8, 61–2, 64–6, 69, 74–7, and 80 in the Survey under Venice. Marin, Storia. The text of the document was translated into French by Reinaud, Traités. The copy of the document preserved in the ASVe was finally edited by Wansbrough, Documents. See no. 67 in the Survey under Venice. As witnessed by the private documents published in Krekić, Dubrovnik (Raguse) et le Levant. Korkut, Arapski dokumenti. Qurqūṭ, al-Wathāʾiq al-ʿarabiyya. On this early period, see Björkman, Die frühesten türkisch-ägyptischen Beziehungen.

22

bauden

that the Ottoman archives are praised for their abundance and considered comparable to their European counterparts, researchers would expect to find if not hundreds, at least dozens of documents related to the diplomatic exchanges between the two powers. While there is no doubt that further research in the Başbakanlık Arşivi in Istanbul would yield additional items, thus far we know of only four documents, all of which are from the end of Mamluk rule (early tenth/sixteenth century). These are two original letters, one issued by the governor of Aleppo and the other by Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī,107 one translated letter of the same was registered in the Ottoman archives and, finally, a copy of a letter addressed by Meḥmed (r. 848–50/1444–6, 855–86/1451–81) to al-Ashraf Qāytbāy (r. 872–901/1468–96). The material preserved in the Ottoman archives, despite its paucity, is nonetheless of interest because it shows that, at the beginning of the tenth/sixteenth century, the Mamluk chancery was able to issue letters in Ottoman Turkish.108 3.6 France From the seventh/thirteenth century, a significant presence of merchants from various ports of Provence and Languedoc, particularly from Marseilles, is documented in Alexandria. Though Provence was not integrated into the kingdom of France before 1481, Marseilles became so congested by French merchants heading south to the Mediterranean that the consul of Marseilles started to represent them in Alexandria. It was only in 1447 that Charles VII (r. 1422– 61) dispatched an emissary to Cairo with the expectation that al-Ẓāhir Jaqmaq (r. 842–57/1438–53) would grant the French merchants the same commercial advantages the Venetians enjoyed in the Mamluk territories. This was the beginning of more frequent contacts between the two powers that extended until the end of Mamluk rule.109 Despite these contacts, no original Mamluk documents have been preserved in the French Archives.110 The only document that we can refer to in this context is in fact an Ottoman decree issued in 935/1528 by Sulaymān the Magnificent (r. 926–74/1520–66) in favor of the Catalan and French merchants trading in Egypt. This decree mostly reproduces the contents of a previous decree 107 108 109 110

Published by Edhem, Mısır Fethi; Kerslake, The correspondence. See also Yüksel Muslu, The Ottomans 330 n. 33. Provided that this is the original letter and not an Ottoman copy; the letter was published in Edhem, Mısır Fethi. For a brief overview of these contacts, see Tuchscherer and Pedani, Alexandrie ottomane 1 15–21. The outdated study of Charrière, Négociations, starts with the reign of Francis I (r. 1515– 47), and only refers to Ottoman documents.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

23

issued by Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī in 913/1507 with the same purpose. In 2011 this document was identified in the holdings of the Departmental Archives of the Yonne (Auxerre) and subsequently published.111 In addition to this exception, we have translations of some Mamluk letters and letters addressed by the French king to the Mamluk sultan (transcribed in registers and sources) that cover the second half of the ninth/fifteenth century. Charles VII’s embassy was received positively in Cairo in 1447 and his emissary brought back a letter from Jaqmaq (r. 842–57/1438–53) that was translated. The only trace left of this letter can be found in a contemporary source, Mathieu d’Escouchy’s (ca. 1420–83) Chronicle covering the years from 1444 to 1467. An excerpt from the French translation of another letter addressed by Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī to Louis XII (r. 1498–1515) in 916/1510 was also located in another contemporary source, Jean Le Maire de Belges’ (1473–1524) political pamphlet against the pope entitled Le Traictié.112 In addition to these two letters on the Mamluk side, three letters113 sent by French kings have been preserved in registers and are now available at the Bibliothèque nationale de France (MSS Français 2893 and 5909114). These have barely been studied.115 3.7 Cyprus Under the house of Lusignan, the relations between Cyprus and the Mamluk sultanate may be characterized as mainly confrontational. As the last outpost of Frankish rule in the eastern Mediterranean, the island remained a point of departure for military expeditions and pirate raids led against Mamluk harbors on the Syrian and Egyptian coasts. With the Mamluk conquest of the island in 1427, the Lusignan kings recognized the sultan’s authority and agreed to pay an annual tribute. This new status impacted the way the Mamluk chancery addressed the Cypriot king, who had become a vassal of the sultan. Notwithstanding these exchanges, which the sources sometimes relate in great detail, no original document for the Mamluk side has been preserved. The translation of two letters addressed by the sultan to the ruler of Cyprus have nonetheless been recorded in local sources and were published by Louis de Mas Latrie in his history of the island under the Lusignan.116 Moreover, a copy of instructions

111 112 113 114 115 116

Tuchscherer and Pedani, Alexandrie ottomane 1. See no. 1 in the Survey under France. See no. 3 in the Survey under France. See nos. 4–6 in the Survey under France. Another copy of this collection of documents is held in Troyes. See Macler, Une lettre royale. Alessandro Rizzo is currently working on the documents mentioned in this section. See nos. 1–2 in the Survey under Cyprus. The first letter was identified in George Bous-

24

bauden

delivered by the king to the ambassadors who had to negotiate a truce on his behalf with the sultan are registered in the Venetian Archives and were also published by de Mas Latrie. Additional documents related to Cyprus after it came under Venetian rule have been reviewed above. 3.8 Hospitallers of Rhodes The Order of St. John of Jerusalem, which first settled in Rhodes after the fall of Acre in 1291, was forced to leave the island after the Ottomans occupied it in 1522. This led to the installation of the Order in Malta, where its archives have been integrated into the collections of the National Library. It is there that de Mas Latrie found a letter related to Cyprus; it is dated 1448 and addressed by the Grand Master to Jaqmaq.117 Another document containing a proposal for a treaty was sent to al-Nāṣir Faraj (r. 801–8/1399–1405, 808–15/1405–12) in 1403; this document was located by Sebastiano Paoli (1684–1751) and published in a collection of documents on the Order.118 3.9 Genoa Like the Venetians and the Pisans, the Genoan merchants were among the first of those on the Italian peninsula to engage in commercial relations with Egypt. Thus, we would expect to find documents related to their diplomatic contacts with the Mamluk sultanate. Yet, the State Archives of Genoa (Archivio di Stato di Genova, ASG) holds only one document in translation. It is a truce concluded in 1290 by the authorities of Genoa with al-Manṣūr Qalāwūn (r. 678– 89/1279–90). The Arabic version was preserved in a contemporary source119 and can be checked against its translation. This text of this truce drew the attention of scholars as early as Silvestre de Sacy (1758–1838), who published both versions of the text in 1827. This publication was followed by other translations in Italian and English and a new edition of the Arabic and Latin versions.120 3.10 Naples The destruction of a major part of the collections of the State Archives of Naples (Archivio di Stato di Napoli, ASN) during the World War II, which saw

117 118 119 120

tronios’ chronicle (on which see Coureas’s article in this volume) and the second in an anonymous chronicle held in the BnF (Paris). See no. 2 in the Survey under Hospitallers of Rhodes. See no. 1 in the Survey under Hospitallers of Rhodes. Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir’s Tashrīf al-ayyām. See no. 1 in the Survey under Genoa.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

25

the complete annihilation of the Anjou and Aragonese chancery registers that covered the years from 1265 to 1505, leaves no hope of discovering documents on the limited relations between Naples and the sultanate. Yet, in another repository, namely the Archives of the Custody of the Holy Land in Jerusalem, a rare document bearing witness to the exchanges between Queen Joanna I (r. 1344–82) and al-Ashraf Shaʿbān (r. 764–78/1363–77) was preserved. This document was published by Girolamo Golubovich (1865–1941) in his history of the institution, which he based on documents preserved in the archives of the Custody.121 3.11 Pisa Like Venice and Genoa, Pisa was eager to secure agreements with the Mamluk sultanate with provisions like those that had been granted to them by the predecessors of the Mamluks, the Ayyubids. Mohamed Ouerfelli devoted a study to the treaties concluded by Pisa with Egypt.122 Nevertheless, for the Mamluk period, the State Archives of Pisa (Archivio di Stato di Pisa, ASPi) hold only a copy of credentials given to the Pisan ambassador sent to al-Ẓāhir Barqūq in 1385. This document was published by Michele Amari in his pioneering work on the archival material related to diplomatic relations with Muslim powers.123 3.12 Savoy Charles I, duke of Savoy (r. 1482–90), was the titular king of Cyprus, because Queen Charlotte of Cyprus (r. 1458–63) was married to Charles’s paternal uncle, Louis. Charlotte, however, was exiled by her illegitimate half-brother James II (r. 1463–73), who was recognized as king by the Mamluks. In 1485, Charlotte surrendered her right to the crown to Charles. Aware that his claim to the kingdom of Cyprus could not succeed without the approval of the Mamluks, who regarded the island as a vassal state, Charles entered into negotiations with Cairo. A unique witness of this first contact has been preserved in the State Archives of Turin (Archivio di Stato di Torino, ASTo): it consists of a copy of Charles I’s letter to al-Ashraf Qāytbāy, dispatched to Cairo in 1488.124

121 122 123 124

The original document on parchment is in Jerusalem, and a copy is kept in Rome. See no. 1 in the Survey under Naples. Ouerfelli, Les Traités. See no. 1 in the Survey under Pisa. The document is unpublished. See no. 1 in the Survey under Savoy.

26

bauden

This assessment of documents held, for the most part, in archival repositories shows that the corpus is imbalanced, at least when compared to the quantity of material available to the European diplomatic tradition. With just thirty original Mamluk documents, most of which are preserved in Barcelona and Florence, scholars who wish to focus on diplomatic elements are left with a comparatively small number of documents. In terms of the variety of the categories of documents, while their typology is greater than expected (letters, decrees, safe-conducts, lists of gifts), other categories (like truces) remain either poorly represented, or are completely missing (like the instructions delivered to Mamluk envoys). Of course, the number of translated Mamluk documents is far greater (one hundred) and these offer an opportunity to enlarge the corpus, although, in terms of diplomatics, translations invalidate several layers of interpretative elements (e.g., layout, marks of validation). As for documents issued by the other chanceries, mostly copies in registers as we would expect, the number is rather disappointing (ninety-five), though further research in the archives could yield copies so far unidentified. Finally, the bulk of all these documents that are preserved in European archives concern non-Muslim powers, a factor that further distorts our knowledge of Mamluk diplomatic practices, for the simple reason that the Mamluk chancery applied a different set of rules when issuing documents addressed to non-Muslim rulers. If our appreciation of these rules is rather satisfying for this category of rulers, our knowledge is limited to the most commonly represented category, that is, letters.

4

Chancery Manuals, Formularies, and Collections of Letters

Original documents represent the majority of diplomatics. The paucity of original documents for Islam in general, and for the Mamluk period in particular, has induced scholars to consider normative and narrative sources that are sometimes regarded (typically by historians) as equivalent to original documents. We must recognize that studies based on chancery manuals and formularies can lead to stimulating results, if we bear in mind that their function was mainly prescriptive and normative and usually both, rather than descriptive. Copies of letters quoted in such sources may be presented as examples from which the historical elements that would permit our identification of the recipient and/or the issuer have been replaced—most of the time with the all-purpose name fulān (so-and-so). By contrast, collections of letters that offer models of epistolography normally retain most of the historical information contained in the texts they reproduce. In some cases, copies can even

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

27

be regarded as copies figurées, i.e., copies in which the transcriber tries to faithfully reproduce some elements of the original.125 For instance, such elements may correspond to the motto or the signature of the ruler (ʿalāma): its shape and its position on the document can be rendered in a way that implies that the author saw the original. In other cases, the transcriber may indicate the color of the ink in specific parts of the text, the format of paper, or the presence of an impression left by a seal.126 Consequently, these works cannot be ignored by the diplomatist who wishes to collect data on diplomatic rules with the aim of comparing them to original documents. At the same time, both diplomatists and historians should be aware that the data offered by these categories of sources, particularly the narrative sources, can be problematic—in some cases they may even be false127—and the copies of the documents they transmitted must be rigorously critiqued with the tools available.128

125 126 127

128

For the copie figurée, see Cárcel Ortí, Vocabulaire 33 (no. 56). See Bauden, Les Relations diplomatiques 6 and 9–10. For instance, Ottomanists maintain that the letters quoted by Ferīdūn Bey in his collection were fabricated for the early Ottoman rulers up to Murād II (r. 824–41/1421–44). See Yüksel Muslu, The Ottomans 33. On the reliability of copies of documents in narrative sources, see Brinner, Some Ayyūbid and Mamlūk documents. For the reasons invoked above, copies of documents found in narrative sources are not detailed in what follows: in diplomatic terms, such witnesses can rarely be taken into account, although in some cases, these sources were authored by those who directed the chancery. It appears that in such cases the copies quoted may have been drafts of documents that were never issued. Among the Mamluk historians who were keen to quote copies of documents we can mention Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir (d. 692/1293), Baybars al-Manṣūrī (d. 725/1325), Shāfiʿ b. ʿAlī (d. 730/1330), al-Nuwayrī (733/1333), Ibn al-Dawādārī (d. after 736/1336), Ibn al-Furāt (d. 807/1405), al-Maqrīzī (d. 845/1442), and al-ʿAynī (d. 855/1451). A majority of these documents dealing with the crusader states have been studied by various scholars, the most important of whom are Silvestre de Sacy, Lettre; Langlois, Le Trésor; Gabrieli, Trattato; Holt, Early Mamluk diplomacy; Holt, The treaties; Holt, Treaties; Amitai-Preiss, An exchange of letters; and Troadec, Une lettre. Narrative sources composed by historians from other regions of the Islamic world should also be taken into account, like the Moroccan al-Maqqarī (d. 1041/1632), who settled in Cairo at the end of his life. For a document related to the Merinids and the Mamluks found in his Nafḥ alṭīb, see Canard, Les Relations. We must also take into consideration sources composed by Christian powers, like the Byzantines. For a Greek translation of a letter addressed by al-Nāṣir Ḥasan (r. 748–52/1347–51; 755–62/1354–61) to the Byzantine emperor John VI Kantakouzenos (r. 1347–54) in 1349 and recorded in the latter’s History, see Canard, Une lettre.

28

bauden

4.1 Chancery Manuals and Formularies Like the ars dictaminis and its corollary, the ars dictandi, of medieval Europe,129 inshāʾ, the art of writing, in particular writing diplomatic letters—hence the name of the Mamluk chancery (dīwān al-inshāʾ)—was subject to a theoretical framework of guidelines for the art of epistolography.130 Mostly prescriptive and normative, the vademecums composed by the main actors, i.e., the secretaries, were relatively popular among their peers, but did not draw much interest beyond the chancery clerks. While some of these manuals have been preserved, the number of copies that have reached us is rather limited in comparison with other categories of books.131 The authors conceived their works as handbooks that generally detailed the precepts for chancery scribes and provided various models of letters. For this reason, they usually referred to their works as dustūr (or dastūr), a word of Persian origin that was used to define the register in the Abbasid period.132 Given the information overload and the subsequent development of Mamluk encyclopedias,133 some authors tried to address the issue of knowledge by embracing the genre and composing works to offer users and readers all the necessary elements that secretaries required. With its fourteen volumes in print, al-Qalqashandī’s Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā is a case in point. Nevertheless, the result of its publication was counterproductive for modern scholars: given its size and comprehensiveness, it was considered an indispensable, if not unique, source for the study of documents produced in Egypt and Syria from the Fatimid to the Mamluk period; thus, for a long period,

129 130

131

132

133

The ars dictandi refers to general, mostly theoretical treaties on the rules of composition for diplomatic letters. See Camarigo, Ars dictaminis; Grévin, Rhétorique 130–2. In general, see Roemer, Ins̲h̲āʾ; for the Mamluk period, see al-Musawi, Pre-modern belletristic prose. For a review of the genre and the works that are available, see Veselý, Zur arabischen Kanzleiliteratur; Veselý, Die inšāʾ-Literatur. Some scholars have even questioned whether these manuals were popular among secretaries (see Van Berkel, al-Qalqashandī 338). We can establish that al-Qalqashandī’s huge work, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā, was copied twice by his son, in both cases for those in charge of the state chancery. See Bauden, Like father 195, n. 70. The size of the work, though, seems to have thwarted the author’s efforts, as he was invited to produce a summary (Ḍawʾ al-Ṣubḥ al-musfir), also at the request of the head of the state chancery. See Bauden, Maqriziana XIII 214. See al-Zabīdī, Tāj al-ʿarūs xi, 292–3. Ibn Faḍl Allāh describes his al-Taʿrīf as such (al-Taʿrīf 4: aḍaʿ lahu dustūr) and Ibn Nāẓir al-Jaysh does the same for his al-Tathqīf (al-Tathqīf 87: al-qism al-thānī min al-dustūr al-mubārak). See also al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā ix, 320, where he refers to Ibn Nāẓir al-Jaysh’s text as a dustūr. He also mentions other examples for the two Ibn Faḍl Allāh brothers, Aḥmad and ʿAlī. See Björkman, Beiträge 75. On the develoment of encyclopedias in the Mamluk period, see Muhanna, Why was the fourteenth century; Van Berkel, Opening up a world of knowledge.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

29

other manuals were thought to be unnecessary. This long-standing impression was only overcome forty years ago with a movement to publish the major works of the Mamluk period, a movement launched and led, for the most part, by Rudolf Veselý. The chancery manuals and formularies composed during the Mamluk period, which have been published or still await publication, are reviewed in the following pages, according to chronological order, as the context of their writing must be kept in mind for any documentary analysis to be meaningful. Rules, and the subsequent models, were valid at the time these authors were active. Thus, their works should only be considered relevant for their period of activity. Shihāb al-Dīn Aḥmad Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī (d. 749/1349) belonged to a family whose members were at the forefront of secretaryship throughout the eighth/fourteenth century. Of Syrian origin, he became the deputy of his father, Yaḥyā (d. 738/1337), when the latter was called to Cairo to head the state chancery in 729/1329. He served in this capacity until his father’s death, at which time he fell from favor and returned to Damascus where he died. He dedicated his idle time to the composition of his major works, including al-Taʿrīf bi-l-muṣṭalaḥ al-sharīf, the redaction of which can be dated between 744/1343 and 746/1345. Presented as a handbook, its aim was to gather the guidelines that were to be applied for the redaction of various categories of documents issued by the chancery, and offer samples of the recurrent elements (address, invocatio, etc.). First published in Cairo in 1896, it took one century before the first critical edition was eventually published by the Jordanian scholar Samīr alDurūbī.134 Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī also wrote two small treatises that he dedicated to the category of administrative correspondence, a subject he did not address in al-Taʿrīf.135 Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī’s brother, ʿAlī, who succeeded 134 135

Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, al-Taʿrīf. See also his study published at the same time: al-Droubi, A critical edition. Rudolf Veselý published both of them: Veselý, Zwei Opera Cancellaria Minora. Veselý edited two copies of the first treatise, entitled ʿUrf al-taʿrīf, from MS Arabic 3849 (Dublin, Chester Beatty Library) and MS Arabe 926, fols. 94–108 (Paris, BnF). ʿUrf al-taʿrīf was more recently edited by al-Durūbī: Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, ʿUrf al-taʿrīf. Veselý also found the second treatise in the Paris MS (fols. 108–14), but it was in a truncated form and had no title. It appears that the full text can be found in an early copy dated 827/1424 preserved in Leipzig (MS Vollers 493, Leipzig, Universitätsbibliothek), where it is entitled al-Nubdha al-kāfiya fī maʿrifat awḍāʿ al-kitāba (a later owner added the word wa-l-qiyāfa at the end of the title). This fuller version, based on the Leipzig copy, was published recently: Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, al-Nubdha al-kāfiya. Another text attributed to Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, al-Tarassul fī qawāʿid al-mukātabāt (MS 2479, fols. 42–58, Istanbul, Topkapı Sarayı Müzesi Kütüphanesi), awaits investigation to establish whether it is an original text or just another copy of one of the texts mentioned above.

30

bauden

his father as head of the state chancery, also penned a handbook (dustūr) that is only known thanks to al-Qalqashandī’s quotations from it.136 One generation later, Taqī l-Dīn ʿAbd al-Raḥmān b. Muḥammad al-Taymī, better known as Ibn Nāẓir al-Jaysh (d. 786/1384), enlarged the corpus of handbooks on secretaryship. Like his predecessor, Ibn Nāẓir al-Jaysh was of Syrian origin, but born in Cairo. He was the son of a superintendent of the army bureau (nāẓir al-jaysh), a chancery department. He started his career as secretary at the state chancery in 748/1347–8, a position that he held for thirty years, until his father’s death (d. 778/1377). That year, he inherited his father’s position, which he filled until his tragic death.137 He redacted his handbook, entitled Tathqīf al-taʿrīf bi-l-muṣṭalaḥ al-sharīf, after he left his position as secretary (i.e., after 778/1377) and presented it as a contribution to his son’s career at the chancery. In contrast to what the title might suggest, his handbook was not conceived as a supplement to al-Taʿrīf, but as an original work in its own right, one that covered the evolution of diplomatic protocol for documents from the beginning of eighth/fourteenth century to the moment he was writing. The author often refers to the situation that prevailed in Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī’s time and his own, though he emphasizes the changes that the chancery underwent in the meantime. The handbook remained almost unnoticed until Rudolf Veselý published a critical edition based on five manuscripts.138 It took another generation before the next contributor to our knowledge of chancery practices wrote his manual. Aḥmad b. ʿAbdallāh al-Qalqashandī (d. 821/1418)139 was born in a small village of the Delta, from which his family name is derived. He moved to Alexandria, where he was educated and obtained his first job in the service of the governor, and later settled in Cairo. In the capital, his expertise secured his place in the state chancery, where, in 791/1389, he started a career as a lower-level secretary (kātib al-darj). Later, he left his 136 137

138

139

Björkman, Beiträge 75. He overstepped his duty; the sultan then hit him with his pencase and ordered that he be bastinadoed. He died of his wounds a few days later. See Ibn Nāẓir al-Jaysh, Tathqīf al-taʿrīf x. Ibn Nāẓir al-Jaysh, Tathqīf al-taʿrīf. It is worth mentioning that MS Arabe 4437 (BnF, Paris), catalogued by de Slane, Catalogue 707 as Ijābat al-sāʾil ilā maʿrifat al-rasāʾil (and followed by Brockelmann, Geschichte, Sup. ii, 55), is another copy of Ibn Nāẓir al-Jaysh’s Tathqīf altaʿrīf. The first folio belongs to another text correctly entitled Ijābat al-sāʾil and apparently deals with the ikhwāniyyāt, but from fol. 2a onwards, the text is that of Tathqīf al-taʿrīf. On him, see Van Berkel, al-Qalqashandī; ʿIzz al-Dīn, Abū l-ʿAbbās al-Qalqashandī. The name of al-Qalqashandī’s father appears in modern reference works as ʿAlī, based on the information provided in the biography al-Sakhāwī (902/1497) dedicated to al-Qalqashandī. It has recently been established that this historian was wrong. See Bauden, Maqriziana XIII 213–4.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

31

position to work as a deputy judge in an office of professional notaries.140 His second major work, and magnum opus, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā fī kitābat al-inshāʾ, was composed after he had left the chancery; he mentioned that he completed its redaction in 814/1412, six years before his demise.141 Considered a manual, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā was in fact conceived as an encyclopedia covering all the fields about which the perfect secretary should be aware and have knowledge: history, geography, rhetoric, calligraphy, etc. The author also wrote his prescriptive manual in the long tradition of document production that included using documents dating from the Prophet’s period. Thus, we should not be surprised that the printed work is fourteen volumes and approximately 6,500 pages. The value of the work was appreciated during al-Qalqashandī’s last years, and for the following decades, by the main figures at the chancery.142 The book also drew the attention of modern scholars, even before it was published.143 It was only between 1913 and 1919 that the whole work was edited under the direction of an Egyptian scholar, Muḥammad ʿAbd al-Raḥmān Ibrāhīm, and based on all the copies identified at that time.144 Despite some flaws, which are inevitable for such a huge work, the edition is regarded as of high quality; it even notes details reproduced by the copyist, like the place of the sultan’s motto or signature, or the shape of the letters in the section on calligraphy.145 The text is also famous for its multilayered structure, with chapters, subchapters, sections, subsections, and so on, which makes consulting it almost

140 141 142 143

144

145

See Bauden, Maqriziana XIII 212, where these details are provided from the biography of a contemporary and companion (al-Maqrīzī). For the chronology of his works, see Bauden, Maqriziana XIII 216. The work was copied twice by his son, in both cases it was commissioned by someone who directed the state chancery, as noted in n. 131 above. To my knowledge, the first scholar to become interested in the work was the Belgian Henri Lammens (1862–1937). He published two articles, in which he translated the sections devoted to Mamluk correspondence with Christian rulers: Lammens, Relations officielles; Lammens, Correspondances diplomatiques. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā. A reprint appeared in 1963 in Cairo and has since been reproduced several times with only the date changed. One handwritten volume has remained unnoticed since then: MS 1897, Algiers, Bibliothèque nationale. See Fagnan, Catalogue 543. On the title page, the copyist has entitled the work al-Durr al-manẓūm but it tallies exactly with the first volumes of Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā. Fagnan dates it to the beginning of the ninth/fifteenth century, i.e., almost contemporaneous with the author’s death. Unfortunately, the text is lacunar and has been so badly damaged by bookworms that it is very fragile and difficult to manipulate. These elements were not typeset, but clearly reproduced as images taken from the manuscripts.

32

bauden

an ordeal.146 Shortly after the editio princeps, a descriptive study of the text, detailing its contents, was published, rendering it more intelligible and also contributing to its wider use by scholars.147 Since then, al-Qalqashandī’s manual has become a central resource for any researcher dealing with diplomatics. Several sections were translated during the last century148 and non-Arabists, particularly those interested in diplomatic relations, have called for a full translation of the work.149 After the completion of his manual, al-Qalqashandī recycled parts of Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā in another book that also focus on secretaryship, but differ from the point of view of the issuer’s status. At the same time, these recycled parts introduce some new elements not found in Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā. The work deals with documents issued for or addressed to the caliph. Entitled Maʾāthir al-ināfa fī maʿālim al-khilāfa, al-Qalqashandī completed the book around 819/1417. It was published by ʿAbd al-Sattār Farrāj in 1964.150 Even though it is more limited in scope than Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā, Maʾāthir al-ināfa remains a useful source on correspondence. About one year later (821/1418), al-Qalqashandī completed a two-volume abridgment of Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā entitled Ḍawʾ al-ṣubḥ al-musfir wajanā l-dawḥ al-muthmir; only the first volume is still available. In the preface, he explains that the book is a response to a request made by the then head of the chancery who wanted a shorter version of Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā, one that would be easier to consult. The first volume that has been preserved appeared in print in 1906, before his opus magnum.151 Despite the length of time it has been avail-

146 147 148

149

150

151

On the structure, see Van Berkel, The attitude. The publication of detailed indices now facilitates the consultation: al-Baqlī, Fahāris. Björkman, Beiträge. See also ʿAbd al-Karīm (ed.), Abū l-ʿAbbās al-Qalqashandī. The following references are limited to those that offer a translation of documents linked to diplomatic relations between the Mamluks and other powers: Canard, Le Traité; Canard, Un traité; Dölger, Der Vertrag; Gabrieli, Trattato; Holt, Early Mamluk diplomacy; Vermeulen, Le Traité d’ armistice entre le sultan Baybars et les Hospitaliers; Vermeulen, Le Traité d’ armistice; Vermeulen, Timur Lang. Recently, this invitation has been answered, at least in part. See al-Qalqashandī, Selections. This translation only considers some of the initial chapters, unfortunately those that do not relate to the drafting of documents. As early as 1993, Maria Pia Pedani translated the section dealing with truces. See Pedani, La dimora della pace. Al-Qalqashandī, Maʾāthir al-ināfa. The discovery of a second manuscript (a presentation copy, probably a holograph, i.e., entirely in the author’s handwriting) was announced by Kafesoğlu, Kalkaşandî’nin bilinmeyen bir eseri. Al-Qalqashandī, Ḍawʾ al-Ṣubḥ, edition based on MS A2603 (Istanbul, Topkapı Sarayı Müzesi Kütüphanesi). Another copy was recently identified and appears to be a presentation copy, probably a holograph: MS ʿAyn 1122, Tehran, Kitābkhāna-yi Millī-i Jumhūrī-i Islāmī-i Īrān. See Bauden, Maqriziana XIII 214 and 216.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

33

able, its importance in the field of diplomatics has yet to be assessed, though it has been established that the work contains some original elements.152 The next author of a manual on secretaryship is something of a mystery. For a long time, his work was incorrectly attributed to someone else and given a false title. It was referred to as al-Maqṣid al-rafīʿ al-munshaʾ al-hādī ilā ṣināʿat al-inshāʾ, which is the title on the first page of the unicum (unique copy) (MS Arabe 4439, Paris, BnF); but in fact that title had been added by a western hand. It was attributed to a certain al-Khālidī—the name of one of its owners—; the work was also frequently referred to as Dīwān al-inshāʾ. The correct identification of the author, Muḥammad b. Muḥammad al-Saḥmāwī (d. 868/1463), and the true title of his work, al-Thaghr al-bāsim fī ṣināʿat al-kātib wa-l-kātim,153 was made by an Egyptian student, Ashraf Muḥammad Anas Mursī, who prepared a critical edition of the text as part of his dissertation, which was published in 2009.154 Thanks to this accurate attribution, it has been possible to establish that al-Saḥmāwī enjoyed a long career in the service of the chancery—he worked some fifty years as a secretary for the state chancery and for several amirs—and thus he was knowledgeable in the art of secretaryship. According to the Ottoman bibliographer Kātib Çelebī (d. 1068/1657), al-Saḥmāwī completed his work in Shaʿbān 846/December 1442–January 1443.155 For the redaction of al-Thaghr al-bāsim, al-Saḥmāwī clearly relied on the work of his predecessors, particularly al-Qalqashandī’s Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā whose encyclopedic scope he adopted, though in a more concise manner. The contents of al-Saḥmāwī’s work would thus appear limited, if it were not for the updates that he offers on certain issues, like the paper utilized and the political context. With the edition published in 2009, the text, previously consulted by few scholars, became available to everyone interested in Mamluk diplomatics, though the editorial work is not devoid of imperfections. Shortly after al-Saḥmāwī completed his book, he followed al-Qalqashandī’s example and prepared a summary (probably for the same reason, accessibility), which he entitled al-ʿUrf al-nāsim min al-Thaghr al-

152 153

154

155

See above, n. 35. This information was confirmed by Kātib Çelebi, Kashf al-ẓunūn i, col. 521 (the author’s nisba is incorrectly given as al-Sakhāwī). Nājī, Nuṣūṣ 249, followed by Karabulut, Dünya iv, 2654 (no. 7160/1), refers to a holograph copy of al-Thaghr al-bāsim in Tunis (Bibliothèque nationale, MS 4582 adab, formerly belonging to al-Aḥmadiyya Library) dated 842/1438– 9. The manuscript in question contains an anonymous poetic dīwān from Egypt. I thank Mounira Chapoutot for checking this manuscript for me. Al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim. Another edition of the same text was prepared by Khalīl Shaḥāda in the framework of a PhD dissertation presented in 1988 at the Université SaintJoseph in Beirut. However, Shaḥāda failed to identify the author and the correct title. See Kātib Çelebi, Kashf al-ẓunūn i, col. 521.

34

bauden

bāsim, of which a lacunar copy is available.156 It still remains to be seen if some parts of al-Saḥmāwī’s abridgment are as valuable as al-Qalqashandī’s Ḍawʾ alṢubh proved to be. The next author to contribute to our knowledge of Mamluk diplomatics is none other than al-Qalqashandī’s son, Najm al-Dīn Muḥammad (d. 876/1471), better known as Ibn Abī Ghudda. He occupied several functions in the judicial system, including the office of secretary for various amirs. At the end of his life, he devoted a treatise to the composition of letters, with a particular focus on correspondence exchanged by state officials (ikhwāniyyāt);157 he entitled this Qalāʾid al-jumān fī muṣṭalaḥ mukātabāt ahl al-zamān. The text has been preserved in a unicum (MS OR. 3625, London, BL) and a recent assessment158 has shown that, despite his heavy reliance on the works of his predecessors, the text includes some original elements. In a section dedicated to the correspondence issued in the name of the sultan and addressed to foreign rulers (fols. 13b–47b), Ibn Abī Ghudda focused his attention on the correspondence itself and the rules for issuing letters: specifically, the format of the paper, the formulas to be used (address, epithets, invocation), and their place on the document (number of sheets in the roll and the place where a given formula must be penned). Ibn Abī Ghudda also shows his preference for the external elements of letters, like the shape of the document, while his predecessors concentrated on the internal elements that constituted the letters themselves. The analysis of the treatise composed by al-Qalqashandī’s son proves that it is necessary to appraise similar, still unpublished texts, if we wish to expand our knowledge of Mamluk diplomatics, particularly for the later periods, for which time we have few chancery manuals. The following three works might contribute to this effort. The first one, al-Tibyān fī iṣṭilāḥ ahl al-zamān, was written by a certain al-Ḥalabī who is characterized, on the title page of the unicum, as a secretary at the chancery in Cairo.159 The dates mentioned for some of the documents he quotes help us place his activity in the 770s–80s/1370s–80s.

156

157 158 159

MS 13158 zāy (Cairo, Dār al-Kutub). This holograph copy is acephalous and contains 107 fols. Al-Saḥmāwī also authored a poem (urjūza) on calligraphy: Biḍāʿat al-mujawwad fī l-khaṭṭ wa-uṣūlihi. See al-Baghdādī, Īdāḥ al-maknūn i, col. 185 (the author’s nisba is incorrectly given as al-Sakhāwī). See the editio princeps in Ḥabīb Efendi, Hatt ve-hattâtîn 278–85; new edition in Nājī, Nuṣūṣ 249–58 (where the author’s nisba is given erroneously as alSinjārī). On these, see Bauden, Ikhwāniyyāt letters. See Bauden, Like father. MS Mf72, Berlin, Staatsbibliothek. His name is given as Shams al-Dīn Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad al-Ḥanafī. He was in fact one of the clerks who recorded answers to petitions presented to the sultan and prepared the minutes (aḥad al-muwaqqiʿīn bi-l-dast al-sharīf ).

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

35

The book opens with a rather long and detailed section on correspondence addressed to foreign rulers.160 The second work, Muzīl al-ḥaṣr fī mukātabāt ahl al-ʿaṣr, is a handbook composed by an unknown author—his name does not appear on the title page or in the introduction. We can establish that he was active at the beginning of the ninth/fifteenth century, because he specifies in the preface that he composed his work for Yaʿqūb b. al-Mutawakkil I, i.e., one of the Abbasid caliph’s sons. Preserved in two copies, it relates to the correspondence issued by the chancery and addressed to each of the three levels (i.e., the caliph, sultans, and the administration).161 The third book, al-Murūj al-zakiyya fī tawshiyat al-durūj al-khiṭābiyya, was composed by an unidentified author, Ibn al-Ḥanbalī, whose death took place in or around 859/1455.162 Thus far, three copies have been identified in three libraries: El Escorial,163 Tunis,164 and Riyadh.165 While it is mainly concerned with ikhwāniyyāt letters, the text addresses some issues linked to correspondence with non-Muslim (mainly Christian) rulers.166 In addition to the works of Mamluk secretaries, we must not overlook the works of their counterparts in the eastern and western Muslim world. The treatise composed by Mūsā b. al-Ḥasan al-Mawṣilī (d. 699/1300), al-Burd almuwashshā fī ṣināʿat al-inshāʾ, is an engaging case.167 Al-Mawṣilī was the son of a secretary working at the Mamluk chancery. Around 660/1260, he relocated to Yemen, where he became the head of the Rasulid chancery until his death. His treatise was conceived as a vademecum intended for clerks active in the same field. Though he did not record full copies of letters, the guidelines and formulas he describes help us understand the rules applied by the Rasulid side when addressing foreign rulers, though we must bear in mind that al-Mawṣilī received his education in Mamluk Egypt. 160 161 162

163 164 165 166 167

MS Mf72, Berlin, fols. 1b–8a. MS Árabe 566 (San Lorenzo de El Escorial, Biblioteca de El Escorial); MS Petermann 299 (Berlin, Staatsbibliothek). His full name was ʿAbdallāh b. Muḥammad al-Zakī l-ʿIzzī/al-Ghazzī al-Ḥanafī. The author’s name is incorrectly given as Ibn Ḥatlab (?) by al-Baghdādī, Īḍāḥ al-maknūn ii, col. 470; Hadiyyat al-ʿārifīn i, col. 468; and Kaḥḥāla, Muʿjam al-muʾallifīn ii, 284 (no. 8282) and 285 (no. 8292). MS Árabe 557, San Lorenzo de El Escorial, Biblioteca de El Escorial (dated 897/1492). See Brockelmann, Geschichte, Sup. ii, 915 (no. 7). MS 4766, Tunis, Dār al-Kutub al-Waṭaniyya, fols. 220–78 (dated 1215/1800–1). See Manṣūr, Fihris 108. My thanks to Marlis Saleh for checking this reference for me. MS 471, Riyadh, Maktabat Jāmiʿat al-Malik Saʿūd (tenth/sixteenth century). See MS Árabe 557 (El Escorial), fols. 61b–62a (ahl dār al-ḥarb). See al-Mawṣilī, al-Burd al-muwashshā. For a presentation of the work and its author, see Vallet, Mūsā b. al-Ḥasan al-Mawṣilī.

36

bauden

4.2 Collections of Letters In addition to the chancery manuals, another category of texts which were purely descriptive also contributed to the preservation of copies of documents; these were collections of sample letters composed by secretaries active at the chancery (dīwān al-inshāʾ)—either the state chancery of Cairo, or a local one, like that in Damascus, Aleppo, or Hama. These secretaries gathered their production, of which they were particularly proud, and which they regarded as their letters, in their own right. These miscellanies were such a part of their literary output that they were regarded as personal works. By contrast, other secretaries copied the letters that reached the chancery and the responses that were redacted anonymously. Most of the time these collections covered a longer period, that is, the activity of several secretaries who, in some cases, are named. Whatever category these collections belonged in, their aim was to offer exemplary stylistic characteristics, like the summa dictandi of medieval Europe.168 They inspired—but also elicited the admiration of—contemporaries and future secretaries. As noted, in some ways, this recording activity replaced the registering of incoming and outgoing letters at the chancery and contributed to the preservation of copies that would have been lost otherwise. While these texts were not exclusively composed of samples of correspondence exchanged with other rulers, they are as instrumental as the chancery manuals for the study of various aspects related to diplomatics.169 These types of collections are usually known as munshaʾāt (i.e., collections of inshāʾ), though this term is not attested in the Arabic sources.170 Mamluk secretaries were also inclined to register the documents they composed—and those which prompted them to write responses—in their commonplace books.171 These texts present yet 168 169 170

171

Camarigo, Ars dictaminis; Grévin, Rhétorique 130–2. They usually also include deeds of nomination, letters between various levels of the administration (ikhwāniyyāt letters), marriage contracts, etc. Modern researchers seem to have borrowed the term from the Persian literary tradition— from which it later passed into Ottoman usage—, where it is attested in the titles of such collections. Known as tadhkira (something that helps memory), these were usually chronologically arranged multi-volume works; the author would regularly record his production and the results of his readings and start a new volume when the preceding one was filled. For instance, al-Qalqashandī quotes the forty-sixth volume of Ibn Faḍl Allāh’s tadhkira, in which he found a copy of a document (Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā vii, 229). Another well-known example of this kind of work relates to another secretary, al-Ṣafadī (d. 764/1363), whose takhkira covered forty-nine volumes (several copies have been preserved; Élise Franssen is currently working on it). Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā xiv, 70, also refers to Ibn Manẓūr’s (d. 711/1311) Tadhkirat al-labīb wa-nuzhat al-adīb, which, in spite of the title, must have been a collection of documents he composed and thus not a tadkhira in its own right.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

37

another opportunity to identify letters related to diplomatic exchanges, either from the Mamluk side or from their correspondents (like the Timurids or the Ottomans, to mention only the most important), who utilized other epistolary traditions. For the Mamluk period and the Mamluk point of view, the vast majority of the epistolary collections to which al-Qalqashandī refers in his opus magnum, i.e., those covering the seventh–eighth/thirteenth–fourteenth centuries, are now considered lost.172 For the ninth/fifteenth century, we can cite several examples here. In the category of personal collections containing diplomatic correspondence, Ibn Ḥijja’s (d. 837/1434)173 Qahwat al-inshāʾ is unique in terms of quality, but also in the sense that it is the only personal collection of its kind that has reached us from the Mamluk period. The author, born in Syria, was well-known for his literary prose and poetry, and for his acquaintance with the secretary of the governor of Hama. When the governor, Shaykh al-Maḥmūdī, became sultan (r. 815–24/1412–21), he brought with him his secretary, whom he placed at the head of the chancery in Cairo. Ibn Ḥijja’s acquaintance with him proved beneficial, as he was immediately designated as munshiʾ of the state chancery; this meant that he penned documents (deeds and letters) upon request. Ibn Ḥijja remained in office for the duration of al-Muʾayyad Shaykh’s reign and that of some of his successors, until his dismissal around 827/1424. His Qahwat al-inshāʾ, in which he gathered the deeds that he composed as well as the incoming letters and the responses he penned, covers his activity at the chancery in chronological order: the first document is dated 815/1413 and the last one is from 827/1424. Its author was a unique witness of the diplomatic exchanges during this period, not only because he was a theorist of rhetoric, which he put to good use in the documents he wrote, but also because he provided details of elements related to diplomatics (the format of paper, the color of the ink, the presence of a motto or the impression of a seal). His work thus offers a rare glimpse into a period during which al-Qalqashandī had already written his major work. Rudolf Veselý was the first to scrutinize Ibn Ḥijja’s work.174 In 2005, he published a critical edition of the Qahwat al-inshāʾ, leaving little space for criticism.175 This collection contains no fewer than forty diplomatic letters, usually incoming correspondence with replies composed by Ibn

172 173 174 175

This is, for instance, the case for Ibn Manẓūr’s Tadhkirat al-labīb. See al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā xiv, 70; Björkman, Beiträge 77. For his biography and production, see Stewart, Ibn Ḥijjah. Veselý, Eine neue Quelle; Veselý, Eine Stilkunstschrift; Veselý, Ein Kapitel. Ibn Ḥijja, Das Rauschgetränk. For his edition, Veselý did not take into consideration the manuscript held in Algiers (Bibliothèque nationale, MS 1898); this is the oldest complete

38

bauden

Ḥijja. These are in numerical order as follows: Ayyubids of Ḥisn Kayfā (seven incoming and six outgoing letters), Qara Qoyunlu (five incoming and five outgoing letters), Rasulids (two incoming and three outgoing letters), Ottomans (one incoming and two outgoing letters), Qaramanids (one incoming and two outgoing letters), khans of the Golden Horde (two outgoing letters), Timurids (one incoming and one outgoing letter), Hafsids (one outgoing letter), and Aq Qoyunlu (one outgoing). This sample of forty letters, all by one author, shows the frequency of the exchanges between these dynasties and the Mamluk sultanate during a short period of time (twelve years) and highlights the quantity of material that must have existed for the Mamluk period but which is now lost. Its contents have scarcely been studied, either in historical or diplomatic terms.176 MS Arabe 4440 (BnF, Paris) belongs to the anonymous category of collections of models; it has been known for more than a century, though scholars only started to investigate it in the 1960s. In an article in 2007, I studied the contents of this composite text, and provided a full list of the letters it preserves.177 This collection is divided into four parts, and it is in the last one that the compiler, who probably worked at the chancery in Cairo up to the beginning of al-Ashraf Qāytbāy’s reign, collected a series of sixty-two letters, mostly dated between 837/1433 and 873/1468. The compiler provides physical details of certain elements of these letters (the format of the paper, the presence of seal impressions, the color of the ink, the presence of the sender’s motto), all of which are further evidence that he had access to the original documents and

176 177

dated copy available (dated, on fol. 255b, 30 Jumādā I 840/10 December 1436, three years after Ibn Ḥijja’s death). See Fagnan, Catalogue 543–4. The Shams al-maghrib fī l-murqiṣ wa-l-muṭrib attributed to Ibn al-Damāmīnī (d. 828/ 1425) and catalogued as such by Ahlwardt, Verzeichniss viii, 579–80, no. 8643 (Berlin, Staatsbibliothek, MS Sprenger 1223) is just another partial copy of Ibn Ḥijja’s Qahwat alinshāʾ. The manuscript is lacunar at the beginning and the end. Although the copy begins with three commendations (taqrīẓ) not found in Qahwat al-inshāʾ, all the documents are given in the same order with some lacunae in between. In the list that follows, the no. of the document in Veselý’s edition is between parentheses: fols. 2b (58), 6a (59), 7a (61), 8b (62), 9a (63), 9b (64), 10a (66), 10b (67), 12a (67a), 13a (68), 14a (69), 14b (70), 16b (71), 17a (72), 18a (73), 19b (74), 20b (75), 21a (76), 22b (77), 24a (78), 25b (79), 26a (80), 27a (81), 29a (82), 30a (83), 31a (84), 31b (86), 32b (87), 34a (88), 35b (89), 37a (90), 38a (90a), 39a (91), 42b (92), 43a (93), 44a (94), 46a (95), 48a (96), 48b (97–8), 49b (99), 50b (100), 53b (101), 54b (102–3), 55a (104–5), 55b (106), 57a (107), 58a (108), 59b (111), 60b (112), 61b (112a), 62b (112b), 63b (113), 64a (114), 66a (115), 68a (116), 70b (117), 72a (121b), 76b (121a), 81b (121j). Yüksel Muslu, The Ottomans has studied Ottoman letters. The Qahwat al-inshāʾ is also the focus of my article on the reconstruction of a Qara Qoyunlu letter in this volume. Bauden, Les Relations.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

39

accurately took note of these details upon their arrival or issuance. He may in fact have been the secretary who penned the correspondence (munshiʾ), and, like Ibn Ḥijja, wanted to keep a record of his production. The letters cover a wide range of rulers, and thus bear witness to the animated exchanges that occurred in the period considered; these exchanges took place with the following: Ottomans (three incoming and ten outgoing letters),178 Timurids (four incoming and six outgoing), Qara Qoyunlu (two incoming and three outgoing letters), Hafsids (two incoming and three outgoing letters), Qaramanids (three outgoing letters), Ayyubids of Ḥiṣn Kayfā (two incoming and one outgoing letter), Rasulids (three outgoing letters), Nasrids (two incoming letters), khans of the Golden Horde (two outgoing letters), Muẓaffar Shāhids of Malwa (one incoming and one outgoing letter), Aq Qoyunlu (one outgoing letter), Takrūr (one outgoing letter), khans of the Crimea (one incoming letter),179 the Muslims of Lisbon (one incoming letter), and the Cypriots (one outgoing letter). Some of the letters have been studied. In 1940, George Colin was the first to publish a group of five letters related to the West (the two Hafsid and the two Nasrid letters, as well as the letter by the Muslims of Lisbon, all of which were addressed to the Mamluk sultan).180 In 1958, Aḥmad Darrāj edited a letter sent by the sultan of Malwa and the response issued by al-Ashraf Qāytbāy.181 For half a century, this manuscript was largely neglected until it stimulated my interest and I devoted an article to it in 2007. Some significant parts of it then became the subject of Malika Dekkiche’s dissertation, which focuses on the diplomatic relations between the Mamluk sultanate, on one side, and the Timurids, Qaramanids, and Qara Qoyunlu on the other. In the context of her work, she edited all the letters linked to these dynasties.182 Since then, she has published several studies and editions of these letters.183 Despite these publications, the full corpus of letters certainly deserve to be published in its entirety.

178 179 180

181 182 183

Contrary to the header of letter no. VI, this letter was not addressed by Murād II to alAshraf Barsbāy, but vice versa, as noted by Yüksel Muslu, The Ottomans 315, n. 46. Letter XLV was incorrectly attributed to the Qaramanids in Bauden, Les Relations. Colin, Contribution. In the meantime, the letter of the Muslims of Lisbon was edited by Zayyāt, Athar unuf. Maria Filomena Lopes de Barros’s article in the present volume focuses on this letter. Darrāj, Risālatān. John Meloy thoroughly studies both letters in the present volume. Dekkiche, Le Caire. Dekkiche, Correspondence; Dekkiche, New source; Dekkiche, The letter (Qara Qoyunlu letters edited); Dekkiche, Crossing the line (Qaramanid letters edited). In addition to the articles of Lopes de Barros and Meloy in the present volume, Mounira Chapoutot-Remadi, Rémi Dewière, and Éric Vallet deal with some of the letters in the manuscript, at least in part.

40

bauden

The recent identification of another copy of the same text in Algiers will certainly contribute to the resolution of some of the problems that arose from the Paris copy.184 Other collections of models have yet to be assessed, so we do not yet know if or how they might prove useful to Mamluk diplomatics. MS 663 (Leipzig, Universitätsbibliothek) is an interesting case. This manuscript consists of a miscellanea of documents that were composed by secretaries, including, in some cases, those by the unknown compiler (musaṭṭir).185 The most recent documents are dated or datable to the 870s/1465–75, making this collection a perfect contemporary of MS Arabe 4440. One response addressed to the Qaramanid amir in 871/1467 (fols. 31b–32b) offers details about the format of the paper used and the gifts for the amir that were dispatched with the Qaramanid envoy who was returning home. The practice of collecting models of documents was also widespread in the Persian and Ottoman epistolary traditions, where these were known as munshaʾāt/münşeʾāt. As in the Mamluk tradition, these were collections of the epistolary production of some of the most prominent actors working for the chancery. In some cases, they brought together some of the most significant letters that were exchanged with other rulers over a given period of time.186 These collections thus prove instrumental in broadening the corpus of letters exchanged with the Mamluks. While on the Persian side, the harvest has proved unproductive thus far,187 the situation is more encouraging for the Ottomans. In this context, the main source is represented by Ferīdūn Beg (d. 991/1583), 184

185

186 187

MS 1899, Algiers, Bibliothèque nationale. The manuscript was described by Fagnan, Catalogue 544 as an anonymous collection of letters, mainly from rulers. He also thought that the compiler was an Egyptian who probably worked at the chancery. In comparison with the Paris manuscript, the copy in Algiers is lacunar and in great disorder. It only contains the following letters (references are to the numbers in Bauden, Les Relations and the corresponding page numbers in the Algiers manuscript): letter XXI = 78–81, letter XII = 84–7, letter XXIII = 83, letter XXXV = 4–7, letter XXXVII = 1–3, letter XXXIX = 66–7, letter XLIII = 96–100, letter XLV = 101–2, letter XLVII = 88–95, letter XLVIII = 70–7, letter L = 104–6. Interestingly, this manuscript belonged to the well-known scholar al-Zabīdī (d. 1205/1790) who settled in Egypt. The manuscript thus passed from Egypt to Algeria at a rather late date. Vollers, Katalog 209–11, describes the contents of the manuscript. Unfortunately, the title and the name of the compiler on the title page were erased. A later owner substituted the erased title for a questionable title: al-Durar al-manthūrāt. For an overview of collections of epistolary models in Persian and Ottoman, see, respectively, Storey, Persian literature; Uzun, Münşeat. For the Timurid period, Navāʾī has reviewed most of the Persian and Ottoman munshaʾāt in print or still unpublished. See Navāʾī, Asnād. The author only lists two fatḥnāmas sent to the Mamluks to announce the news of a conquest; these fatḥnāmas were found in a collection of letters dating from the Safavid period: one by the Timurid Shāh Rukh

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

41

who worked at the Ottoman chancery from 981/1573 to 984/1576, then from 989/1581 to his death. In his capacity as nişāncı (seal holder), his tasks included supervising the dīvān’s archives. His functions meant he had permanent access to a vast repository of documents. This led him to copy some of the most significant documents related to the diplomatic relations between the Ottoman sultans and several of their counterparts, as early as the end of the eighth/fourteenth century.188 His work, entitled Münşeʾāt-i selāṭīn [Official letters of the sultans], has been available in an uncritical edition since the mid-nineteenth century.189 Celia J. Kerslake has studied the letters addressed by Selīm I to Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī.190 More recently, Cihan Yüksel Muslu has analyzed all the letters received from and sent to the Mamluk sultans in her book on OttomanMamluk diplomatic relations.191 Other collections remain in manuscript form, but certainly merit investigation.192 Among these, MS Arabe 4434 (BnF, Paris)193 contains several copies of Ottoman-Mamluk letters, some of which were mentioned by Yüksel Muslu, though these remain unpublished.194 In addition to the Ottomans, there may yet be some unexpected discoveries to be made, as the following example demonstrates. An anonymous collection entitled Zuhrat al-nāẓirīn wa-nuzhat al-nādhirīn, drew Rudolf Veselý’s atten-

188

189

190 191 192 193

194

(r. 807–50/1405–47) and the other by Aq Qoyunlu Uzun Ḥasan (r. 861–82/1457–78). See Navāʾī, Asnād 208–14, 561–70. Melvin-Koushki, The delicate art, is a study of Uzun Ḥasan’s fatḥnāma. The first dated document in his work is from 793/1391; we must bear in mind that the correspondence for the early Ottoman reigns, those up to Murād II, as noted, is problematic. See above n. 127. Ferīdūn Beg, Mecmūʿa-yi münşeʾāt-i selāṭīn. As noted by some scholars, there are discrepancies between the first edition in 1264–5/1848–9 and the one that followed in 1274– 5/1857–9: some letters are missing in the former. See Kerslake, The correspondence 220, n. 8. Kerslake, The correspondence. She also refers to one additional letter identified in a composite manuscript. See ibid., 220, n. 7. Yüksel Muslu, The Ottomans. See Kerslake, The correspondence 221, n. 10. According to de Slane, Catalogue 707, the manuscript is dated 877/1473. In fact, he refers to the date that appears on fol. 170b, though this date corresponds to the date of the last document reproduced and not the manuscript itself. In truth, this manuscript is a composite: it contains two parts, written by two hands, each bearing different ownership marks. The first part (fols. 1–171) is undated and mainly consists of two collections of letters, the first related to the Khwarizmshahs and the second to the Ottomans, the last being from 877/1473; the second part (fols. 172–222) is composed of a collection of epistolary models in Persian that ends with a collation note dated 843/1440. BnF, MS Arabe 4434, fols. 130b–133b, 133b–138b, 139a–141*a. The following letters are not mentioned in her study: fols. 165b–168a (Ottoman letter and response), 168b–169b (Ottoman letter and response).

42

bauden

tion.195 Preserved in a unicum in Leiden (MS Or. 1052), among other documents, the text contains thirty-one letters exchanged between the Qaramanids and the Mamluks. According to Veselý, the compiler recorded letters that were in the archives in Konya, though it is more likely that he worked at the chancery and made copies of the letters that reached it, along with those drafted in reply to them. These letters represent another significant example of the correspondence between the Mamluks and the Qaramanids, which the former mainly regarded as vassals and buffers against the Ottoman expansion. Despite the flaws in the copies—dates are rarely mentioned, hindering a chronological reconstruction of the collection, except on the basis of internal references; and the initial parts of the letters (invocatio and intitulatio) were not considered—, this collection certainly deserves a thorough study and edition.

5

Mamluk Diplomatics

The two preceding sections confirm that original Mamluk documents have been preserved in limited numbers, but with some variety, and that copies are available in chancery manuals, formularies, and collections of letters with the same characteristics. It is thus fair to wonder why we do not have a manual of Mamluk diplomatics, given that scholars have focused on the diplomatics related to other dynasties.196 There are several reasons that may explain this. First, the original Mamluk documents that have been available in editions and translations were mostly published between the mid-nineteenth and mid-twentieth century. During this period, reproductions of documents were seldom added to the editions because of the financial costs of such an enterprise. Most editors were interested in seeing the documents published because of their historical significance. They did not pay much attention to the physical details of the documents themselves or to some parts of the text; indeed, they may have considered these aspects meaningless. For instance, if measurements were given, they were for the size of the whole document, but not the size of its constituent parts, i.e., each sheet of paper in the roll. Moreover, 195

196

In Veselý, Ein Briefwechsel, the title is erroneously given as Zumrat al-nāẓirīn wa-nuzhat al-nādirīn. The way the first word of the title is written on the first page may be misleading; the correct form is given by Kātib Çelebī, Kashf al-ẓunūn ii, 962, who probably based his description on this very manuscript. For a general introduction, see al-Khūlī, Mudākhālāt. For works dealing with the diplomatics of a specific dynasty, mostly (properly) based on original documents, see Reychman and Zajączkowski, Handbook (Ottomans); Roemer, Staatsschreiben (Timurids); Keçik, Briefe und Urkunden (Aq Qoyunlu).

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

43

interest in the diplomatic rules given by chancery manuals only developed after the publication of al-Qalqashandī’s Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā.197 Scholars only began to produce editions of texts with full diplomatic commentaries and physical descriptions from the 1950s.198 Since then, diplomatists have scarcely considered consulting the original documents, rather they have trusted in the works of their predecessors—despite the faults just outlined. A new generation of scholars has now taken the next step, which is to go back to the original documents in order to (respectfully) check the work of the pioneers and fill in the blanks they left in their analyses.199 Thus, the time seems ripe to outline the results of this new scholarship, i.e., what has been done and what still needs to be accomplished—where are we. In fact, the general sketch that follows cannot be regarded as a manual of Mamluk diplomatics for documents linked to diplomatic exchanges; rather, it is intended to serve as a contribution to the issue. In so doing, we follow the two major steps heeded by the diplomatists in their analysis of documents, i.e., we examine the form of the document (external and internal characteristics), and its genesis or drafting. This is preceded by the various types of documents that should be taken into consideration for the Mamluk period and ends with a brief section on the tradition of the documents, i.e., what happened to them after their issuance. 5.1 A Brief Typology of Documents The documents related to diplomatic exchanges in medieval Europe that can be found in archival repositories increased in number along with the widespread use of paper and the recognition by various powers of the importance of writing and the preservation of this written activity in archives. Historians of diplomacy can thus study the whole gamut of these written remains. Some are clearly related to diplomatic activity, while others are related more

197 198

199

This is the case for the majority of the original documents that are preserved in Barcelona, Florence, and Venice, as we saw above. For the Mamluk period, John Wansbrough was the first to apply diplomatic analysis to the documents he studied; this is true, even though his publications (see the bibliography) are not exempt from fundamental flaws, particularly in relation to incomplete physical descriptions and the identification of the category to which the documents belonged. For the appraisal of Wansbrough’s work, see Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion. The documents in Florence, previously published by Amari and Wansbrough, have recently been analyzed in this way. See Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion. The same process has been launched for the documents held in Barcelona under the direction of Roser Salicrù i Lluch in the framework of a collaborative project involving F. Bauden and A. Rizzo for the Mamluk documents, M. Ouerfelli for the Hafsid materials, Ana Labarta for the Nasrid documents, and Mercè Viladrich for the Merinid ones.

44

bauden

to what took place behind the diplomatic scenes. These documents include diplomatic letters, treaties, lists of gifts, safe-conducts, procurations (i.e., the powers of attorney granted to ambassadors to negotiate in the name of his ruler), letters of credence, instructions, orders of payment related to envoys, reports of ambassadors, accounts of travel expenses, and ambassadors’ correspondences.200 Unfortunately, the existence of the full range of these sorts of documents cannot be confirmed for the Mamluk period. Our lack of knowledge is due to the paucity of evidence (originals or copies) and the lack of accounts in the specialized literature (chancery manuals and formularies) and narrative sources. However, the deficit of evidence cannot be used as an argument that these sorts of documents did not exist in the Mamluk diplomatic tradition.201 The categories of documents that relate to diplomatic exchanges in the Mamluk period include the following:202 truces (hudna, pl. hudan), oaths ( yamīn, pl. aymān), letters (mukātaba, pl. mukātabāt),203 safe-conducts (amān, pl. amānāt), passes for foreign envoys ( yarligh, pl. yarāligh), instructions to emissaries (tadhkira, pl. tadhākir), and finally, lists (qāʾima, pl. qawāʾim) of gifts. The chancery manuals and formularies describe most of these categories, detail the rules for their redaction, and give some examples. Unfortunately, we do not have original preserved documents in all of these categories, thus, we have no way to compare them with the prescriptive works. We know of another kind of document, but only because original examples are available in European archival repositories; these are lists of gifts and are not described in the chancery manuals. Our knowledge of them, from a diplomatic point of view, relies entirely on the items preserved in the European archives.204

200 201

202

203 204

Péquignot, Les diplomaties occidentales 48. For instance, the argument of absence was used with regard to a specific kind of private document, the contract for fluvial and maritime transportation; its absence in the preserved documents led to the conclusion that such contracts, though described in formularies, were not in fact issued. This conclusion was disproven when an example of such a contract was identified and published. See Bauden, Le Transport de marchandises. For a taxonomy of documents issued by the chancery in general, see Björkman, Diplomatic 302–4, largely inspired by Björkman, Beiträge which, in turn, is entirely based on al-Qalqashandī’s Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā. Sometimes also referred to by the more general term kitāb or mithāl, the latter also meaning, according to the context, “order.” Gifts in the Mamluk diplomatic tradition have recently drawn the attention of scholars. See, in particular, Muhanna, The sultan’s new clothes; Behrens-Abouseif, Practising diplomacy. However, the lists of gifts, which were appended to diplomatic letters issued by the Mamluk chancery, have not been considered sufficiently. On these, see Bauden, Lists of gifts.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

45

By contrast, some categories fell into disuse because their function was, at least occasionally, transferred to other types of documents. In the wake of Frankish rule in Syria and as relations between the European states and the Mamluk sultanate evolved from one of conflict to one characterized by economic exchanges, the chancery had less need for truces and their correlative form of confirmation, i.e., oaths.205 In order to apply the negotiated trade agreements, so merchants could enjoy commercial benefits, the chancery started, from the beginning of the eighth/fourteenth century, to use another kind of document: the administrative decree (marsūm, pl. marāsīm).206 These were certainly not reciprocal like truces, but unilateral, administrative decrees that belonged to the category of documents issued by the chancery for a specific purpose: they transmitted orders to representatives of the sultanate who were responsible for their implementation. Although these documents were meant for internal use, the European states increasingly requested copies of the decrees for their own records, a practice that explains their presence (as originals or in translation) in the archives of these European states.207 In the same way, the use of the safe-conduct witnessed a similar evolution. While a document of safe-conduct was initially a specific document issued according to a set of rules described in the chancery manuals, over time, this category of document was abandoned, though its juridical function—to grant safe-conduct to a specific person or community—was included in other categories of documents. These documents included letters addressed to European states and administrative decrees issued in favor of their subjects residing in the territories of the sultanate.208

205 206

207

208

See Köhler, Alliances. On administrative decrees in the Mamluk period, particularly responses to petitions, see Stern, Petitions. For those linked to European states, see Wansbrough, A Mamlūk commercial treaty. Together with the subcategory of the murabbaʿ (square decree), which refers to the form of the document (i.e., a full sheet of paper, thus a rectangle (murabbaʿ) folded in two). Called maraba in Italian translations, these were minor decrees that were differentiated by the Venetians, who referred to the marāsīm as commandamento longo. See Rossi, Ambasciata 127. On the murabbaʿ decree, see Richards, A Mamlūk emir’s ‘square’ decree, and, for recent research, Hirschler, From archive to archival practices, 14–5. The European states used the same practice (i.e., of requesting copies of administrative documents issued by the Mamluk chancery for internal use) with regard to letters addressed by the sultan to the governors, in which the sultan announced the accompanying decrees. See Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion i, 207. See Frantz-Murphy, Identity and security; Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion 226–30. This is not peculiar to Mamluk diplomatics. In the European documentary tradition, letters also

46

bauden

This situation led to some confusion in the way a document issued by the Mamluk chancery was interpreted and identified. Decrees, for instance, were understood by European recipients in light of terms that prevailed in their documentary tradition, terms like treaties,209 capitulations,210 and privileges. Modern historians based themselves, in some cases, on the interpretation of documents by the local chanceries, who adopted the same descriptive terms, which further clouded the issue.211 In general, it is advisable to refer to these documents by the technical terms used by the Mamluk chanceries.212 Another element that needs to be taken into account concerns the issuing authority. It is generally assumed that documents related to diplomatic exchanges were all issued by the state chancery in Cairo. By the same token, it is taken for granted that foreign chanceries were only in contact with the Mamluk state chancery. Both assumptions are contradicted by documents and reports. In fact, intercommunication was predominantly established between the respective state chanceries, but lower-level figures occasionally also liaised with foreign powers.213 This alternative communication impacted the emanation of the documents, especially on the Mamluk side, where correspondence was highly codified.214

209 210 211

212

213

214

transmitted orders, which led to their preservation in the archives. See Guyotjeannin et al., Diplomatique médiévale 104–5. Like the treaties, the decrees included clauses (sharṭ, pl. shurūṭ). This is one reason they were interpreted as treaties by their European recipients. Hartmann, Die Islamisch-Fränkischen Staatsverträgen; Theunissen, Ottoman-Venetian diplomatics, chap. 2. The term ‘commercial decree’ was used to define decrees issued in relation to benefits secured for the merchant community of a European state in the Mamluk sultanate; however, in the Mamluk chancery, these were not differentiated from administrative decrees. As early as 1996, Maria Pia Pedani stressed that defining Mamluk documents with terms specific to the medieval European diplomatic tradition or their intrepretation by the local chancery which received them should be abandoned in favor of using terms specific to Mamluk diplomatics. See Pedani, La dimora 20. For a case in which the executive secretary, who was in Syria, contacted the Venetian authorities, see Arbel, Levantine power struggles. For documents addressed by the Mamluk state chancery to the authorities of the city of Barcelona, see nos. 19–20 in the Survey, under Aragon. For letters addressed by the King of Aragon to various authorities on the Egyptian side, mostly governors of Alexandria and Damascus, see nos. 49, 66, 68, 72, 79, 83–4 in the same Survey. See Bauden, Ikhwāniyyāt letters.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

47

5.2 Form In diplomatic terms, diplomatists consider the examination of a deed one of the two steps necessary for an analysis and correct interpretation. To begin, diplomatists examine the external and internal features of a document. The external features are essentially the support, the format, the layout, and the script. These must be scrutinized on the document itself, not from a reproduction. With regard to internal features, these define the elements that pertain to the text itself: the structure of the text, the means used to validate a document (seal, signature, etc.), the language, and the style. These elements do not require access to the original document, but to a good reproduction at least.215 This brief outline of important features to note calls for a couple of remarks that are specific to Mamluk diplomatics. First, access to the original documents is not always granted by the repositories because these are old items that can be manipulated only in tightly controlled circumstances. While in theory this concern is fully justified, researchers should stress that it is almost impossible to study the external characteristics of a document without access to the original. Just as a codicological description of a manuscript can prove crucial to accurately dating the manuscript, a diplomatic description of a document is equally instrumental for its correct interpretation. While it is true that consulting Mamluk chancery documents can be challenging in practical terms (see fig. 1.3), it should not be an obstacle. Second, if researchers give up trying to access originals, our knowledge of Mamluk diplomatics will not continue to evolve. For more than a century, diplomatists and historians have been content to work on the basis of reproductions, and have missed and/or misinterpreted essential parts of the documents they were studying. This situation is no longer tenable and every effort to improve our understanding of Mamluk diplomatics should be encouraged. 5.2.1 External Features For the issuance of documents, the Mamluk state chancery (dīwān al-inshāʾ) mainly used two kinds of format: (1) the roll (darj, pl. durūj), longer than it was wide, is composed of one (or several) sheets (waṣl, pl. awṣāl) pasted one below the other, for a given format of paper (qaṭʿ, pl. aqṭāʿ); and (2) the single sheet of paper, usually folded in two. The roll was the most widely used format for various categories of documents, including official correspondence with foreign rulers. The use of the single sheet folded in two was limited to very

215

See Guyotjeannin et al., Diplomatique médiévale 63.

48

bauden

specific types of documents, like instructions to envoys (tadhkira).216 Given that diplomatic letters are the most commonly represented category in the originals that have been preserved, in the following lines, I address these exclusively.217 Paper was the only writing material used by the Mamluk chancery. Our knowledge of the production of paper in Egypt and Syria during the Mamluk period has improved since the publication of Geneviève Humbert’s study, which is based on those manuscripts she was able to date and locate.218 Nevertheless, for a long time it was assumed that the paper supply for the Mamluk chancery was specific, i.e. that the paper intended for use for chancery documents was specially produced to meet its requirements. The production would thus have been separate from paper made for other purposes, like books. This assumption was largely based on the misunderstanding of an obscure passage in al-Saḥmāwī’s al-Thaghr al-bāsim.219 By reconsidering the data found in al-Qalqashandī’s and al-Saḥmāwī’s manuals, and by examining some contemporary manuscripts—particularly the monumental Qurans commissioned by Mamluk sultans—, I have been able to demonstrate that the paper used by the chancery was not produced by a specific mill and that it was no different than that made for books.220 An examination of documents preserved in the European archives has also provided another meaningful detail: the Mamluk chancery used locally produced paper until the end of the sultanate, even though European watermarked paper was already available in Egyptian and Syrian markets.221 This practice seems to confirm that chancery secretaries

216 217

218 219 220 221

See al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā xiii, 79ff. for a description of this category of document, including its shape. We should emphasize that secretaries traditionally divided correspondence according to the rank of the issuer/addressee, giving precedence to the caliph, then the sultan, and finally to the appointees—military and civil—and referring to the correspondence of each of these ranks with the following respective technical terms: khalīfatiyya (letters to or from the caliph), sulṭāniyya (letters to or from the sultan), and ikhwāniyya (letters exchanged by appointees). For more detail, see Bauden, Ikhwāniyyāt letters. Theoretically, the caliph was the representative of religious authority. See Holt, Some observations. For an excellent overview of the evolution of the Abbasid caliphate in Cairo, see Banister, The Abbasid caliphate. Medieval diplomatics applies the same kind of distinction between documents according to the nature of the issuing authority, i.e., secular or religious, and their respective rank (regal, princely/seigneurial/communal, pontifical, episcopal, private). See Guyotjeannin et al., Diplomatique médiévale 104. Humbert, Papiers non filigranés; Humbert, Un papier. Humbert, Le manuscrit arabe. Bauden, Paper formats. See Bauden, L’ Achat d’ esclaves 272, n. 15.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

49

were not interested in issuing documents on European paper, whether for political222 or economic reasons,223 or both. It is well known that rolls were used for letters. The origin of this format goes back to antiquity and was adopted by Muslims when they conquered Egypt.224 From there, it spread to other regions of the Islamic world in the East and the West.225 In her contribution to this volume (“Diplomatics or Another Way to See the World”), Malika Dekkiche presents a brilliant synthesis of the rules applied by the secretaries for the diplomatic correspondence addressed to Muslim rulers.226 Based on her analysis of various chancery manuals of the Mamluk period, she explains in clear terms how the status of the addressee, as recognized by the Mamluk chancery, determined a set of rules that impacted the external and internal features of letters. As explained, rolls were composed of several sheets pasted one below the other. The width of the roll was thus determined by the sheets. The different widths (full sheet, twothird, half, one-third, quarter, ordinary) are known thanks to al-Qalqashandī and al-Saḥmāwī who referred to a standard (the cubit used to measure fabrics: dhirāʿ al-qumāsh). Until very recently, scholars relied not only on an incorrect calculation of this standard (48.886cm vs. 58.187cm),227 but also on an erroneous interpretation of the formats. In her study of the formats described by al-Qalqashandī and al-Saḥmāwī, Humbert concluded that each format of a sheet detailed by the two Mamluk authors determined, as we saw, by its width, was specifically produced for the chancery.228 In fact, only a very limited number of formats of sheets (the largest ones) were made for the chancery. Each time a fraction of the full format is mentioned for the width of a roll, it just means that the full sheet was cut into the size requested.229 This example demonstrates how critical it is to undertake a physical examination of the origi-

222 223 224

225 226 227 228 229

Diplomatic letters are, of course, expressions of power. For example, to support local paper mills. The oldest Muslim diplomatic letter that has reached us is a roll from Egypt. Dated 18 Rajab 141/24 November 758, it was addressed by the governor of Egypt, Mūsā b. Kaʿb, to the king of the Nubians. Made of sheets of papyrus, each measuring 22–23×53.5cm, its total length is 2,645m. The letter is now displayed at the Museum of Nubia in Aswan. See Hinds and Sakkout, A letter; Plumley, An eighth century Arabic letter. The roll format was still used by the Almohad chancery. See Buresi, Les Plaintes. See also the second volume of Dekkiche, Le Caire. The same work should now be carried out for non-Muslim rulers. Consequently, all the measures given for the different sizes used by the Mamluk chancery are incorrect. See Bauden, Paper formats. Humber, Le manuscrit arabe. See Bauden, Paper formats.

50

bauden

nals.230 The layout of the text was another feature impacted by the rules summarized by Dekkiche. The text started after a number of blank sheets—a space called ṭurra231—which was determined by the rank of the addressee. The rank of the addressees also determined the interlinear space and the width of the right margin.232 Different styles of scripts were used in the chancery, which was a sort of laboratory in which calligraphers developed new styles.233 In recent years, various studies were devoted to calligraphic styles; these have contributed to our better understanding of their use at the Mamluk chancery.234 Other sources have also been discovered: albums displaying examples of the different styles were composed by calligraphers who also worked for the state chancery.235 However, the scripts featured in Mamluk documents have largely been neglected and certainly deserve investigation. The correct identification of styles, according to the details provided by al-Qalqashandī and the authors of the albums just mentioned, is particularly important. Such studies should also focus on the presence or the absence of orthoepic signs and decorative elements frequently used by calligraphers in other contexts. 5.2.2 Internal Features The internal features considered by diplomatists relate to the elements of diplomatic discourse (roughly the structure of the contents of the document) and the stylistic and linguistic characteristics of its tenor. The structure of letters in premodern Islam roughly tallies with the one defined for documents in medieval European diplomatics. The traditional division into three parts (protocol, text, eschatocol), with their internal constituents, are all described by the Mamluk chancery manuals with their own technical terms ( fawātiḥ, matn, khawātim). Diplomatists working on Islamic

230 231 232 233 234 235

This examination was carried out for the documents held in Florence (see Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion), Barcelona (forthcoming), and Venice. See Gazagnadou, Remarques; Nielsen, A note. All these features are key to reconstructing the reused documents, as fig. 12.3 in my contribution to this volume shows. The status of the recipient also affected the choice of the reed pen, hence of the calligraphic style. See Blair, Islamic calligraphy; Gacek, Arabic scripts; Atanasiu, De la fréquence des lettres; Atanasiu, Le Phénomène calligraphique. See al-Ṭayyibī, Jāmiʿ maḥāsin kitābat al-kuttāb; Ibn al-Ṣāʾigh, Tuḥfat al-albāb; al-Saḥmāwī, Biḍāʿat al-mujawwad; al-Zaftāwī, Minhāj al-iṣāba. On Ibn al-Ṣāʾigh’s treatise, see Jahdani, À propos d’ un traité mamelouk. More recently, Juvin has studied the link between epigraphy and calligraphy at the end of the Mamluk period. See Juvin, Recherches.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

51

chancery documents have tended to use the terms of medieval European diplomatics, though there is no real need to do so, as Dekkiche stresses in her contribution to this volume. It is difficult to change habits. The various parts of the diplomatic discourse were also affected by the status of the recipient: these parts include the opening formulas, the honorific titles, the taslīm (salutatio), and finally, the sultan’s signature (ʿalāma). With regard to diplomatic letters, all these elements have been studied in detail for the Mamluk period.236 The honorific titles have also received great attention, particularly from specialists of epigraphy.237 Language and style are the most challenging issues for diplomatists working on Mamluk letters because thus far, little work has been carried out on these aspects. Of course, the composition of a letter depended on the status of the addressee, like all the external and other internal elements. Nevertheless, there was another element that secretaries had to take into account: whether he was writing an inceptive letter (ibtidāʾ) or a response. As Gully states, “letters of response were more demanding and more challenging intellectually than the original letters,” because “the initiator of the communication (Ar. al-mubtadiʾ) is the arbiter in his letter,” while “the respondent is not free to use displacement, rather he is merely the one who follows the [communicative] objective of the initiator, building on his foundation.”238 The munshiʾ, the clerk who drafted the letter, had to display his literary ability by deploying rhetorical devices and textual inspiration from the Arabic literature at his disposal, including Quranic verses, quoted verbatim or loosely (iqtibās); traditions of the Prophet (ḥadīth); poetry; and proverbs.239 His style derived from the inshāʾ, the art of writing letters tailored by generations of belletrists from the early Abbasid period: this art entailed a rhythmic and rhymed prose characterized by hyperbole.240 Language and style were of course a question of prestige. For this reason, when a 236 237

238 239 240

See the second volume of Dekkiche, Le Caire, and her contribution to this volume. On the structure, see also Potthast, Mamlūk diplomatic letters. Max van Berchem was the first to compare honorifics in inscriptions from the Mamluk period with those in the chancery manuals. See, for instance, van Berchem, Matériaux. For honorific titles in general, see al-Bāshā, al-Alqāb. For an example of a study of the honorifc titles linked to diplomacy, in this case regarding the Byzantine emperor, see Korobeinikov, Diplomatic correspondence. Gully, The culture 155. See also my article in this volume. For examples, see Dekkiche, The letter and its response. In general, see al-Musawi, Pre-modern belletristic prose. On the prose of secretaries specifically, see Gully, The culture of letter-writing. An interesting parallel was recently drawn between the European tradition of diplomatic letter-writing from the eleventh century onward and the development of the ars dictaminis. See Grévin, Documents diplomatiques; Grévin, Entre inšāʾ et dictamen; Grévin, La Trame et la chaîne.

52

bauden

letter exposed the negligence of its writer—intentionally or not—, the answer had to match it, though without reproducing the same colloquialisms or stylistic infelicities.241 The question was, who was able to decipher these rhetorical devices? The sultans? As already stressed by Vallet, the Mamluk sultans, in contrast to their Rasulid counterparts, had not all mastered Arabic.242 The subtleties of Arabic rhetoric, even without considering the textual references, were well beyond them. Clearly, it was the secretaries who were the true interpreters, who valued the artistry of letter-writing and also decoded the other, symbolic, meanings of the letters.243 The choice of the language for the issuance of letters on the Mamluk side may seem obvious: Arabic was universally understood in the Muslim world and even beyond, for instance, in Europe, where local translators were available. The secretaries were also the guarantors of the language. However, the situation that prevailed varied according to the period considered.244 Yet, the correspondents of the Mamluk sultans were certainly not bound by this rule. The chancery was thus likely to receive missives in Latin, Persian, Turkish, Mongol, or even more exotic languages, and these letters needed to be translated.245 But over time, it seems that Arabic lost some of its preeminence as, by the beginning of the tenth/sixteenth century, pieces of correspondence addressed by Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī to Selim I were composed in Ottoman Turkish.246 241 242 243

244

245 246

See Amitai’s contribution to this volume. Vallet, Mūsā b. al-Ḥasan al-Mawṣilī 133. See Reinfandt’s article in this volume. For another category of documents (truces), alQalqashandī stressed that some examples of truces with the crusader states were poorly written, in terms of linguistic quality; this, he wrote, is due to the fact that these documents were prepared by common agreement between the negotiators representing the two parties. Al-Qalqashandī attributed the poor quality of the language in such documents to the negotiators on the crusader side, who used a ‘foul’ form of Arabic language. He also noted that it was impossible to revise these truces after the issuance of the documents because it would have changed the working of the agreement. See Holt, Early Mamluk diplomacy 7–8. In some cases, it seems that the same letter might have been sent in two languages (Arabic and Turkish). See Favereau’s contribution to this volume. According to al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā vii, 294, letters were addressed in Mongol to the khans of Khwarizm and Qibchaq in the eighth/fourteenth century. For an example of a letter received from Ceylon which could not be translated, see Bauden, Les Relations diplomatiques 11. See Kerslake, The correspondence. The elevation of Persian to the level of lingua franca in the Mongol Empire also had an impact. See Spooner and Hanaway, Literacy; Morgan, Persian as a lingua franca; Hanaway, Secretaries; Mitchell, Safavid imperial tarassul; Mitchell, The practice of politics. Though the Timurids corresponded with the Ottomans in Persian, they did not seem to do the same with the Mamluks, with whom they opted for Arabic in all cases.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

53

There were two means of validation for diplomatic letters: the signature (ʿalāma) and the seal impression (ṭamgha). The most widely used was the first, which was also determined by the status of the addressee,247 and could be penned by the sultan or someone else whose role it was, again according to the status of the addressee, as shown by Dekkiche in her contribution to this volume. In the ninth/fifteenth century, al-Saḥmāwī reported an evolution that had long been overlooked by diplomatists: the sultan wrote several samples of his different signatures, that varied according to status, in advance of the writing of a given piece of correspondence. The sheets containing these signatures were kept at the chancery and inserted in the rolls, at the right place, when these were prepared for a given recipient. In this volume, Alessandro Rizzo provides evidence of this practice for the first time. The other means of validation for letters, seals, had a different function. They were applied to the joints of the sheets of the roll to certify that no part of the letter had been replaced. The use of seals by the Mamluk chancery seems to derive from Mongol practice, which in turn was influenced by Chinese chancery rules.248 The seals, round or square, were engraved with the titles and name of the reigning sultan and applied using red or gold ink, depending on the status of the addressee. Their usage is not attested in original documents before the end of Mamluk rule, though references in Mamluk sources indicate that they were used as early as the mid-seventh/mid-thirteenth century.249 Diplomatic letters were complex but essential tools to establish communication with foreign rulers. They were, as Reinfandt states in this volume, an assertion of sovereignty and an emblem of power. Their external and internal features represented a sort of metalanguage that had to be decoded in order to fully grasp their meaning. Thanks to Dekkiche’s diachronic analysis in her contribution to this volume, it is possible to better understand this issue. Her analysis also details how the status of a correspondent could change over time. Provided that a large corpus of letters is available from both sides, this diachronic approach, when applied to a specific dynasty, can lead to interesting results that demonstrate the tension generated by the recognition of status by one of the two recipients.250 Mamluk letters addressed to foreign rulers

247 248 249

250

On the ʿalāma in general, see Veselý, Die richterlichen Beglaubigungsmittel. Aigle, Rédaction 15. See al-Ḥalabī, al-Tibyān, fol. 7b (square seal, ṭamgha, of al-Nāṣir Muḥammad applied to the joints of a letter dated 723/1323 and addressed to the Rasulid sultan). See also Bauden, Les Relations diplomatiques 9. See Yüksel Muslu, Attempting to understand; Yüksel Muslu, The Ottomans, as well as

54

bauden

(though not exclusively) had a semiotic value that was widely understood in the Muslim world and beyond. This value has drawn the attention of historians since it was first formulated by John Wansbrough in his Lingua franca.251 Additional studies certainly need to be carried out on this aspect of Mamluk letters. Dekkiche’s analysis should also be applied to additional sources, in order to refine the framework for interpreting the semiotic value of Mamluk letters.252 Her interpretation should be extended to non-Muslim rulers, for which we have original examples that can provide significant clues on the way the Mamluk chancery designated the ranks of non-Muslim rulers and how status evolved over time.253 5.3 Genesis The circumstances and the context in which a document was issued can shed light on the document itself and enable us to better understand it. Medieval European diplomatics has addressed these circumstances for more than a century now, focusing on the actors (mainly the chanceries) and the drafting process.254 By contrast, on the Mamluk side, these issues have barely been tackled. The main actors involved in the diplomatic exchanges were those who worked at the state chancery: the chief secretary who was responsible for reading and decoding the incoming letters, the composition secretary who was charged with drafting inceptive letters and responses, the copyists who prepared the roll that would be delivered to the incoming ambassador or the outgoing Mamluk envoy, and the clerks who registered the document. Despite the richness of the Mamluk narrative and prescriptive sources and the availability of detailed reports and testimonies by European negotiators on the process they went through when interacting with the Mamluk side, there is, as yet,

251

252

253

254

D’hulster’s contribution to this volume. For the Mongols, see Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology. Dekkiche, Reinfandt, and D’hulster engage with this debate in their respective contributions to this volume. See also Niederkorn et al., Diplomatisches Zeremoniell. For Europe, see Le Jan, Les Relations diplomatiques 29. For instance, it seems that the rank of the envoys who were designated to bring these letters to foreign rulers could also have an impact on the format. See Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 125. Initiating diplomatic relations with the Mamluk sultanate was also challenging for nonMuslim rulers whose chanceries were not always aware of how to address, approach, and deal with the sultan and his chancery. For two examples regarding Savoy and Florence, see Lazzarini, Écrire à l’ autre; and Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion respectively. The contrary was, of course, also true. Guyotjeannin et al., Diplomatique médiévale 223.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

55

no comprehensive study of the Mamluk chancery.255 The category of secretaries has drawn the attention of modern scholars in relation to a variety of issues, such as, who was in charge of the chancery,256 what was their social background, who were they related to,257 and what sort of education did they have.258 But we still lack a study that considers their activities at the chancery. Questions regarding their roles in receiving incoming letters, in deciphering and decoding them, in composing inceptive letters and responses have scarcely been dealt with, and the practicalities of their work has also not been analyzed.259 For example, what were the working conditions of the composition secretary?260 Such topics should be at the center of future investigations, in order to improve our appreciation of the activities of those responsible for the issuance of diplomatic letters. The drafting process, from the initial request to the final registration, is another aspect for which we lack information with regard to the Mamluks. The lack of archives related to the various stages of the drafting of a document (request, composition, control and correction, engrossment,261 and finally registration) hinders any attempt to reconstruct the process at play. Fortunately, the narrative and prescriptive sources detail some of these stages.262 A thorough survey of the literature would definitely help to fill some gaps.263 255 256

257 258

259

260

261 262

263

The following reference is too concise to fulfill this need: Imamuddin, Diwān [sic] al-inshā. See Wiet, Les Secrétaires, from the late eighth/fourteenth century until the dawn of the sultanate. The list can be supplemented for the earlier period with the appendices published at the end of al-Mawṣilī, al-Burd al-muwashshā 205–307. The editor separated the heads of the chancery from the secretaries in the Ayyubid and Mamluk periods (Egypt and Syria). See Martel-Thoumian, Les Civils; Eychenne, Liens personnels; Gully, The culture of letterwriting, chap. 4. Escovitz, Vocational patterns; Gully, The culture of letter-writing, chap. 5; Van Berkel, A well-mannered man of letters; Van Berkel, Ibn Khaldūn, a critical historian at work; Wiet, Les Classiques. See also, more broadly and on the basis of al-Qalqashandī’s Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā, Björkman, Beiträge. See fig. 1.1 for a rare representation of a chancery secretary at work; it faithfully renders his activity and his tools: the pen case, the reed pen and the roll, and the draft. For the pen cases, see Kalus’s contribution to this volume. For a depiction of the executive secretary (dawādār, i.e., holder of the pen case), see fig. 1.4. For a rare example in which the composition secretary, Ibn Ḥijja, explains how he was asked to draft a new letter for the khan of the Golden Horde at the beginning of the ninth/fifteenth century, see Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 125. Engrossment refers to the final version of a legal document, especially a deed or statute. For a brief and general presentation of these aspects, see Aigle, Rédaction. For a specific example, we can quote Ibn Ḥijja, who boasted that he had to compose a letter for the khan of the Golden Horde in one night. Although he was known for “his colossal ego” (Stewart, Ibn Ḥijjah 142), there must be some element of truth in his testimony. Objects should also be investigated. See fig. 1.2 for a Mamluk case ( jaʿba) used as a

56

bauden

Another very promising research prospect would focus on the interrelationship or the archival bond that ties documents together.264 A request made by the representative of a European power, if granted by the sultan, usually initiated a web of documents intended for the foreign ruler and the local administration.265 5.4 Tradition From the time of its issuance, an original document could generate various kinds of other documents upstream and downstream. These other witnesses— drafts, copies, translations, editions, commentaries, notes, etc.—are known as the handwritten and printed tradition of a document.266 In diplomatic terms, these documents should be even more thoroughly analyzed, particularly if the original has been lost. The handwritten tradition must be considered from the point of view of the issuer and the recipient. For the Mamluk chancery, as we have already emphasized, the registers for the archiving of incoming and outgoing letters, if and when they existed, have been completely lost and are only known to have existed thanks to the description given by al-Qalqashandī.267 In the absence of material witnesses—not only registers but also original documents bearing registration marks—, the study of the tradition of documents on the Mamluk side is almost impossible. By contrast, the process of translation can be analyzed on the basis of the information found in chancery manuals and narrative sources. For instance, al-Qalqashandī details how letters received in a foreign language like Greek or

264

265

266 267

container for the delivery of a diplomatic letter. This category of object is not described in the chancery manuals but is attested in narrative sources. See Reinfandt’s contribution to this volume for a reference to the object that contained a letter addressed by the Nasrid ruler to the Mamluk sultan. Various categories of documents issued by the Mamluk chancery could be linked to a single document received from a European power (usually a letter). This is defined as the interrelationship of documents, or web. For instance, in 1422, the Venetian embassy led by Bernardo Loredan and Lorenzo Capello generated some twenty documents: one general decree, one letter to the doge, three decrees addressed to the authorities of Alexandria, ten decrees issued for various authorities in Syria, one decree for the governor of Damietta, and four decrees related to the ambassadors’ request to make the pilgrimage to the Holy Sepulchre. See Thomas and Predelli, Diplomatarium ii, 320–31. The significance of the question of the interrelationship of documents was assessed by Wansbrough, A Mamlūk commercial treaty. Rizzo has studied this specifically for Florence, Le Lys et le Lion. Guyotjeannin et al., Diplomatique médiévale 271. In what follows, we have left aside the printed tradition for reasons of space. See above.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

57

Latin were translated at the chancery by a clerk whose role was specifically to interpret these languages, sometimes with the help of a member of the Christian community, like an archbishop. The translated text was then transcribed on a sheet of paper pasted onto the original letter.268 Such descriptions are too rare to allow a reconstruction of the full process over the duration of the sultanate. So, while the role of intrepreters and translators at the chancery has been studied by al-Durūbī, our knowledge of their activities, which relies solely on sources and not on documents, remains fragmentary.269 We also know that letters issued by the chancery were sometimes translated into the language of the recipient and sent together with the Arabic version. However, there is no indication that this was done for non-Muslim rulers.270 If it were not for the European archives, the tradition of Mamluk documents after they were received by their recipients would also be difficult to investigate, though we must be circumspect with our enthusiasm here too. In contrast to documents issued by western Islamic chanceries, where the format allowed interlinear translation and was more easily preserved because they were in a single sheet, Mamluk documents never featured the translation prepared by the European counterpart, either between the lines or on the verso. The translations that have been preserved are usually found in registers, but can rarely be compared with the original in Arabic. Studies on the accuracy of translations carried out from the European side are available for a very limited number of cases,271 and more research needs to be done on this topic in order to contend with some idées reçues promoted by nineteenth-century scholars who suspected that inaccuracy was intentional on the European side.272 As Wansbrough noted, the discrepancies should be addressed according to the circumstances in which the translations were carried out. When dealing with this issue, we must keep in mind questions such as, “Who commissioned the translation?”, “Why was it commissioned?”, and “Who undertook the translation?”273

268 269 270 271

272 273

al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā viii, 123. al-Durūbī, Harakat; al-Durūbī, Aṣnāf al-tarājima; al-Durūbī, Muqaddima. See Wansbrough, Documents 20. For the Almohads, the recent work of Buresi is worth mentioning here for its method of analysis: Buresi et al., Les Usages linguistiques; Buresi, Traduttore, traditore. For translations of Mamluk documents addressed to the Crown of Aragon, see Potthast, Translations. See Amari, I diplomi v. See Wansbrough, Documents 19.

58 6

bauden

Mamluk Diplomatics, Dead or Alive?

In a 2006 article provocatively entitled “Byzantinische Diplomatik: Dead or Alive?,” Alexander Beihammer tried to establish that Byzantine diplomatics, despite the results yielded over more than a century, still had a bright future, especially in light of the various ‘turns’ medieval studies witnessed during the past decades. Diplomatics is among the ancillary sciences, all of which have witnessed a revival of sorts; thus, it may still bring innovative solutions to the analysis of documents, not only by taking advantage of technical innovations now at scholars’ disposal, but also by drawing inspiration from the new perspective used by several scholars in the field of historical studies. In general, and despite the differences that characterize the Byzantine and the Mamluk diplomatic traditions, we can draw similar conclusions for Mamluk diplomatics. Over the century stretching from the mid-nineteenth to the mid-twentieth century, the majority of the documents preserved in archival repositories linked to the diplomatic relations have been identified, catalogued, edited, translated, analyzed, and studied. If there are still a few documents that remain unpublished, the work can be considered, for the most part, complete. Thanks to these publications, historians have gained access to these documents and can use them for the studies they carry out on trade, politics, and diplomacy. The situation thus seems ideal, but is it really? The review of the corpus shows that a majority of the Mamluk documents were published during the embryonic stages of our knowledge and interest in diplomatic issues. During the 1960s, the works of John Wansbrough, who was part of a movement of scholars who were increasingly concerned with such issues and paid more attention to the descriptive and analytic approaches, set new standards. Following in his footsteps, other generations of researchers have made giant strides to improve methods of analyzing documents and adopting those developed in related fields of diplomatics. Nevertheless, the general trend has been to consider the work done by the founding fathers, like Michele Amari, as beyond question. This lack of criticism has meant that the work of generations of historians accepted, at face value, the readings of the editors of documents, without returning to the sources. Fortunately, a few years ago, a new movement was initiated; it aims to revise the work of the predecessors by poring over the originals. It has already yielded unexpected results.274 The reappraisal of the documentation from two of the richest archival repositories (Florence

274

See Bauden, Due trattati.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

59

and Barcelona) is well underway and will soon appear in print, thus offering new editions accompanied by a true diplomatic commentary based on all the sources available, together with reproductions of the full corpus.275 The latter element is particularly significant, as it is the only way to render the semiotic value of the documents; this aspect is also instrumental for anyone interested in grasping their performative role. The detailed description of all the physical features of the documents will contribute to enhance our knowledge of Mamluk diplomatics. By analyzing these attributes, we can focus on issues like the sizes of paper, a subject that has been studied over the last two decades, but one that definitely still merits further investigation. We must also spare no effort in reassessing the documents held in other repositories. The survey at the end of this state of research should serve as a starting point for a census of all the documents related to diplomatic exchanges with the Mamluks and preserved in archives, though it should not be seen as definitive. As I have noted, the inspection of the archives can still bring delightful surprises: the identification of thus far unknown fragments of documents surfacing, as in the cases of Barcelona and Florence, are evidence of this. The perusal of registers could also yield additional translations and copies of documents addressed to the Mamluk sultanate. The publication of those categories of documents (translations and copies) in conjunction with the original documents, if any, to which they are linked should also be encouraged. This allinclusive approach is not only necessary for our understanding of the whole corpus, like the interrelationship or the bond of documents, but it also provides other opportunities to delve deeper into the matter of the translation process and the issues it raises. In addition to the archival documents, we must also focus our attention on the prescriptive and descriptive sources, the chancery manuals/formularies and the collections of models respectively. While diplomatists have enjoyed access to critical editions of the most instrumental chancery manuals and formularies, this enviable situation has led to a sort of disinterest in unpublished texts pertaining to this category. Some of these texts certainly deserve to be published, studied, and compared with those that have been accessible for decades. A publication program for these sources should be set up in the future. The same is true for the collections of letters. Despite the recent interest focused on MS Arabe 4440, the collection remains largely unpublished. An unknown copy of the same text identified in Algiers should facilitate its edition. The other collections, those produced by Mamluk secretaries or by 275

For Florence, see Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion, vols. 2 and 3, as well as his forthcoming publication of both volumes. The project for Barcelona is well underway.

60

bauden

secretaries active in the chanceries of rulers addressed by the Mamluks, are also deserving of attention. Given the value of these copies preserved in the collections of letters, the census discussed here must include them, in addition to those found in the chancery manuals and the formularies because they provide details of the physical features (the format of the roll, the presence and location of signature, the color of the ink, etc.) significant for diplomatics. Our understanding of the rules applied by the Mamluk chancery for the issuance of diplomatic letters can only be improved when additional sources—originals and translations, as well as the copies in prescriptive and descriptive sources— covering the duration of the Mamluk sultanate are taken into consideration. The relative material provided by the other chancery traditions should not be neglected because our interpretation of the semiotic value of the letters with their common—Wansbrough’s lingua franca—or unique symbols, can only be achieved through a comparative approach. Should the copies that contemporary or later historians transmitted in their chronicles be included in such a census? In the strictest terms of diplomatics, these copies are more problematic because, first, their authenticity is hard to assess, and second, it is difficult to verify the soundness of the text quoted. Nevertheless, with these caveats in mind, these copies could still be listed in the census, provided their origin is clearly indicated. In such cases, the numerous chronicles that have survived for the Mamluk period, those edited or still unpublished, as well as those composed in other regions of the Islamic world, would enrich the collection of documents in significant numbers, which could then be critically assessed on the basis of the various preserved versions of a single text. Yet, the narrative sources are also instrumental to our understanding of the functioning of the chancery, as these complement the data supplied by the chancery manuals. A study of the practices of those working for the chancery cannot be written from the unique point of view given by the chancery manuals. The tools that have been developed and made available to various fields in the humanities must not be overlooked. Tools for textual analysis, for instance, should be used to collect data in the documents for a wide gamut of analyses: rhetorical devices, quotations (Quran, traditions of the Prophet, poetry, prose), and the order and proximity of epithets are just a few of the issues that could be dealt with in such a framework. The same methods could be carried out on the translations in order to understand if specific patterns can be identified for the same target language and beyond. In the same vein, the digital reproductions, which are easier to produce nowadays, can stimulate debate on the semiotics of documents, an element that could scarcely be considered just a few years ago.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

61

In order to use such tools though, we must rethink the way documents are published. We certainly cannot replace the printed form, which has been privileged so far for the editing of documents, but we can supplement it with digital editions. Ideally, the text of the documents should be available in a way that renders the physical appearance of the text (the size of the characters, layout, position of parts of the text) with hyperlinks to the digital images. The Text Encoding Initiative (TEI) and Extensive Markup Language (XML) are both tools that would help to represent these features in an ideal way. The above-mentioned census for the Mamluk period could thus be extended into a database that would consider all the possible forms of a document (originals, copies, translations), without being limited to one language.276 This broad outline shows what still needs to be accomplished before we are able to publish a manual of Mamluk diplomatics, even one limited to documents on diplomatic relations. If it is prepared on the basis of the present state of research, such a manual would only be a sketch of rules largely derived from the published prescriptive sources. This would mean neglecting the fact that diplomatics is defined by the documents themselves rather than by manuals written by secretaries. Of course both are intimately connected, but should not be considered exclusively and independently from each other. The research program drawn up in these pages will certainly contribute to reach that goal.

276

There are some restrictions to such existing databases. Asnad (http://www.asnad.org/en/) is a digital Persian archive and presents itself as an image database of historical Persian documents from Iran and Central Asia up to the twentieth century. It covers both public and private documents exclusively composed in Persian. The Arabic Papyrological Database (APD) (http://www.apd.gwi.uni‑muenchen.de:8080/apd/project.jsp), which is not an image database, was created to collect the text and the metadata of documents written on papyrus, parchment, and paper exclusively in Arabic. The chronological range stretches from the beginning of Islam until the Ottoman conquest of Syria and Egypt in the early sixteenth century. The argument for the upper chronological limit is that archives have been preserved for the Ottoman dynasty. However, the project does not take into consideration all the categories of Arabic documents, like waqf documents, which are excluded because they are “especially numerous in Egypt for the Mamluk period onwards and often fall between the documentary and literary [sic] genre” (http://www.naher‑osten .uni‑muenchen.de/isap/isap_checklist/index.html; consulted in March 2017). The issue of quantity thus seems to be prevalent here. And, only originals are taken into account. As for the literary genre, it goes without saying that diplomatic letters, as seen in the previous pages, can certainly be described as perfect examples of the literary production of secretaries who defined themselves as belletrists and were proud of their output. But according to the criteria set for the APD, they would be excluded from the database.

62

figure 1.1 A secretary writing a letter Courtesy Edinburgh University Library, MS Or. 20, fol. 139b

bauden

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

figure 1.2 Case for document (Egypt or Syria, ninth/fifteenth c.) Courtesy of Musée du Louvre, Paris, no. AD 5598

63

64

figure 1.3 al-Nāṣir Muḥammad’s 705/1306 letter to the king of Aragon, James II Courtesy Archivo de la Corona de Aragón, Barcelona, Cartas árabes, doc. 148

bauden

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

figure 1.4 The executive secretary (dawādār) standing to the left of the sultan and holding the pen case (dawāt) (basin known as St. Louis Baptistry, Syria, first half of eighth/fourteenth c.) Courtesy Musée du Louvre, Paris, no. LP 16

65

66 7

bauden

Appendix: Survey of Documents (Originals and/or Copies) Related to the Diplomatic Relations by and with the Mamluk Sultanate and Preserved in Archival Repositories

This survey, the first of its kind for the Mamluk period,277 lists documents related to diplomacy (truces, treaties, letters, lists of gifts, decrees, safe-conducts, petitions, instructions to envoys, etc.) that were issued by the respective chanceries. The documents are organized according to the powers with whom the Mamluk sultanate had diplomatic exchanges and for which documents have been preserved in archival repositories, in order of the decreasing number of original Mamluk documents still held. Clearly, with the exception of the Ottomans, this means that this survey is largely concerned with European powers. We can also state with little doubt that it is far from exhaustive. On one hand, as we have seen, previously unknown documents may still be discovered in the European archives and libraries. On the other hand, copies of documents in chancery manuals, collections of letters, anthologies, and historical works may be added for the powers listed here, as well as for several others for which no archives have survived. A project that aims at gathering all the documents, preserved in archives or in sources, related to diplomacy for the Mamluk sultanate would certainly be a major addition to the study of diplomatics and diplomacy. For each power, the documents are chronologically arranged into subcategories (original documents, then translations for the Mamluk side, copies for the foreign side). For each document, we provide references for the edition or, if unpublished, we cite its shelf number in the archives. 7.1 7.1.1 7.1.1.1 1.

277

278

Aragon Mamluk Documents Original Documents Truce concluded between al-Ashraf Khalīl (r. 689–93/1290–3) and James II (r. 1285–1327) dated 19 Ṣafar 692/29 January 1293: Amari, Trattato stipolato; Alarcón y Santón/García de Linares, Los Documentos 335–8 (no. 145).278 If one excepts Roemer, Arabische Herrscherurkunden 337–41, but Roemer only listed Arabic original documents and he also took into account documents issued for Christian communities who were under Mamluk authority (Jerusalem, Sinai). The following reference is mentioned here for the sake of completeness, but it does little to address the issue: Darrāj, Les Documents arabes. Both references reproduce the copy of the truce given by al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā xiv, 63–70, not the original document mentioned here.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

8.

9.

10.

11.

7.1.1.2 12.

13.

67

Letter of al-Nāṣir Muḥammad (r. 693–4/1293–4, 698–708/1299–1309, 709–41/1310–41) to James II dated 5 Rajab 699/28 March 1300: Atiya, Egypt and Aragon 17–9 (excerpts only); Alarcón y Santón/García de Linares, Los Documentos 344–6 (no. 146); Holt, al-Nāṣir Muḥammad’s letter; Bauden, Lists of gifts (doc. 1: list of gifts only). Letter of al-Nāṣir Muḥammad to James II dated 13 Shawwāl 703/14 February 1304: Atiya, Egypt and Aragon 22–4 (excerpts only); Alarcón y Santón/García de Linares, Los Documentos 350–1 (no. 147). Letter of al-Nāṣir Muḥammad to James II dated 1 Shaʿbān 705/16 February 1306: Alarcón y Santón/García de Linares, Los Documentos 355–6 (no. 148). List of gifts sent by al-Nāṣir Muḥammad to James II dated the first ten days of Shaʿbān 705/16–25 February 1306: Atiya, Egypt and Aragon 29– 32; Bauden, Lists of gifts (doc. 2). Letter of al-Nāṣir Muḥammad to James II dated 10 Dhū l-Ḥijja 714/17 March 1315: Atiya, Egypt and Aragon 36–41; Alarcón y Santón/García de Linares, Los Documentos 360–2 (no. 149); Bauden, Lists of gifts (doc. 3: list of gifts only). Letter of al-Nāṣir Muḥammad to James II dated 15 Ṣafar 723/23 February 1323: Atiya, Egypt and Aragon 47–52; Alarcón y Santón/García de Linares, Los Documentos 365–6 (no. 150). Letter of al-Nāṣir Muḥammad to Alphonso IV (r. 1327–36) dated 15 Jumādā I 728/29 March 1328: Atiya, Egypt and Aragon 57–60; Alarcón y Santón/García de Linares, Los Documentos 368–9 (no. 151). Letter of al-Nāṣir Muḥammad to Alphonso IV dated 1 Jumādā I 730/20 February 1330: Atiya, Egypt and Aragon 62–4 (excerpts only); Alarcón y Santón/García de Linares, Los Documentos 370 (no. 152). Draft of treaty between al-Ashraf Barsbāy (r. 825–41/1422–38) and Alphonso V (r. 1416–58) dated 7 Ramaḍān 833/30 May 1430 (linked to no. 11): Ruiz Orsatti, Tratado; Alarcón y Santón/García de Linares, Los Documentos 372–7 (no. 153); Makkī, Muʿāhada 54–9. Decree issued by al-Ashraf Barsbāy regarding the Catalan merchants dated 3 Dhū l-Qaʿda 833/24 July 1430 (linked to no. 10): Viladrich, Jaque al Sultán; Viladrich, Solving (partial edition). Translations Truce concluded between al-Ashraf Khalīl (r. 689–93/1290–3) and James II (r. 1285–1327) dated 19 Ṣafar 692/29 January 1293 (see no. 1): Masiá de Ros, La Corona de Aragón 266–70 (no. 3). Letter of al-Nāṣir Muḥammad to James II dated 14 Ṣafar 719/6 April 1319: Masiá de Ros, La Corona de Aragón 314–5 (no. 42).

68 14. 15.

16.

17.

18. 19.

20.

7.1.2 21.

22.

23.

24.

279

280

bauden

Letter of al-Nāṣir Muḥammad to James II dated 31 March 1322: Masiá de Ros, La Corona de Aragón 329–30 (no. 54). Letter of al-Nāṣir Muḥammad to Alphonso IV dated 15 Jumādā I 728/29 March 1328 (see no. 8): unpublished (preserved with the original, under shelf mark no. 151). Letter of al-Nāṣir Muḥammad to Alphonso IV dated 1 Jumādā I 730/20 February 1330 (see no. 9): unpublished (preserved with the original, under shelf mark no. 152). Letter of al-Ashraf Shaʿbān (r. 764–78/1363–77) to Peter IV (r. 1336–87) dated 16 Rajab 775/1 January 1374:279 López de Meneses, Pedro IV 317–8; López de Meneses, Pedro el Ceremonosio 356–7 (no. XXVIII). Letter of the atābak Barqūq to Peter IV dated 21 Rajab 784/30 September 1382: López de Ayala, Crónica 81–3. Letter of al-Muʾayyad Shaykh (r. 815–24/1412–21) addressed to the city of Barcelona datable to 816–7/1414: de Capmany y Palau, Memorias ii, 419 (no. 283). Letter of al-Ẓāhir Jaqmaq (r. 842–57/1438–53) to the city of Barcelona dated 29 Shawwāl 842 (?)/14 April 1439: de Capmany y Palau, Memorias ii, 463 (no. 316).280 Aragonese Documents Letter of James II to al-Ashraf Khalīl dated 10 August 1292: de Capmany y Palau, Memorias ii, 78–80 (no. 53); Masiá de Ros, La Corona de Aragón 264–6 (no. 2). Letter of James II to al-Nāṣir Muḥammad dated 1 June 1303: Golubovich, Biblioteca iii, 75–6; Atiya, Egypt and Aragon 20–1; Masiá de Ros, La Corona de Aragón 290 (no. 25). Letter of James II to al-Nāṣir Muḥammad dated 1 September 1305: Golubovich, Biblioteca iii, 77–9; Atiya, Egypt and Aragon 26–7; Masiá de Ros, La Corona de Aragón 292–3 (no. 28). Letter of James II to al-Nāṣir Muḥammad dated 18 November 1307: Masiá de Ros, La Corona de Aragón 300–1 (no. 33).

In the translation, the month is given as maçat. This letter is an answer to the embassy sent by Peter IV in October 1373 (see no. 41), therefore the month is tentatively read Rajab, which is the closest term to the form given in the Catalan version. This author reads the year as 840, though Jaqmaq, the sultan who issued the letter, began his rule on 19 Rabīʿ I 842/9 September 1438. It is tentatively dated 842, as in el-Nashar, La Lettre. In his study of the letter, el-Nashar incorrectly states that it is in Arabic.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

25. 26.

27.

28. 29.

30.

31. 32.

33. 34.

35. 36. 37. 38. 39.

69

Letter of James II to al-Nāṣir Muḥammad dated 10 June 1309: Masiá de Ros, La Corona de Aragón 302–3 (no. 35). Letter of James II to al-Nāṣir Muḥammad dated 8 September 1314: de Capmany y Palau, Memorias ii, 132–3 (no. 90); Finke, Acta aragonensia ii, 751–2 (no. 467: excerpts only); Masiá de Ros, La Corona de Aragón 304–7 (no. 37). Letter of James II to al-Nāṣir Muḥammad dated 27 August 1318: Finke, Acta aragonensia ii, 752 (no. 467: excerpts only); Golubovich, Biblioteca iii, 187 (summary only); Masiá de Ros, La Corona de Aragón 311–3 (no. 41). Letter of James II to al-Nāṣir Muḥammad dated 23 December 1320: Masiá de Ros, La Corona de Aragón 315–6 (no. 43). Letter of James II to al-Nāṣir Muḥammad dated 11 September 1322: de Capmany y Palau, Memorias ii, 161 (no. 109); Finke, Acta Aragonensia ii, 755–6 (no. 470); Golubovich, Biblioteca iii, 233–4; Atiya, Egypt and Aragon 45 (excerpts only); Masiá de Ros, La Corona de Aragón 322–5 (no. 51). Instructions delivered to the ambassadors sent to al-Nāṣir Muḥammad datable to September 1322: Masiá de Ros, La Corona de Aragón 324–5 (no. 51). Letter of James II to al-Nāṣir Muḥammad dated 3 July 1327: Masiá de Ros, La Corona de Aragón 332 (no. 57). Letter of James II to al-Nāṣir Muḥammad dated 20 August 1327: Finke, Acta Aragonensia ii, 758–9 (no. 472); Golubovich, Biblioteca iii, 312–4; Atiya, Egypt and Aragon 53–5 (excerpts only); Masiá de Ros, La Corona de Aragón 334 (no. 59). Letter of Alphonso IV to al-Nāṣir Muḥammad dated 1 July 1329: Masiá de Ros, La Corona de Aragón 336–7 (no. 61). Instructions delivered to the ambassadors sent to al-Nāṣir Muḥammad datable to June–July 1329: Masiá de Ros, La Corona de Aragón 337–8 (no. 61). Letter of Alphonso IV to al-Nāṣir Muḥammad dated 15 August 1329: Masiá de Ros, La Corona de Aragón 341 (no. 65). Instructions delivered to the ambassadors sent to al-Nāṣir Muḥammad dated 15 August 1329: Masiá de Ros, La Corona de Aragón 341–2 (no. 65). Letter of Alphonso IV to al-Nāṣir Muḥammad dated 31 August 1329: Masiá de Ros, La Corona de Aragón 342 (no. 66). Letter of Alphonso IV to al-Nāṣir Muḥammad dated 15 September 1333: Masiá de Ros, La Corona de Aragón 346–7 (no. 71). Letter of Peter IV to al-Kāmil Shaʿbān (r. 746–7/1345–6) dated 1 Decem-

70

bauden

ber 1345: López de Meneses, Florilegio 183–5 (no. XIV); López de Meneses, Pedro el Ceremonosio 336–7 (no. V). 40–1. Two letters of Peter IV to al-Kāmil Shaʿbān dated 15 September 1346: López de Meneses, Correspondencia 294–5, 296; López de Meneses, Pedro el Ceremonosio 337–8 (no. VI). 42. Letter of Peter IV to al-Ṣāliḥ Ṣāliḥ (r. 752–5/1351–4) dated 4 April 1353:281 López de Meneses, Correspondencia 297; López de Meneses, Pedro el Ceremonosio 339–40 (no. IX). 43. Letter of Peter IV to al-Ṣāliḥ Ṣāliḥ dated 13 June 1354: López de Meneses, Correspondencia 298–9. 44. Instructions delivered to the ambassador sent to al-Nāṣir Ḥasan (r. 748– 52/1347–51; 755–62/1354–61) datable to September 1356: Vincke, Die Gesandtschaften 120 (n. 23); Vincke, Pedro el Ceremonosio 18 (excerpts only). 45. Letter of Peter IV to al-Nāṣir Ḥasan dated 17 September 1356: López de Meneses, Correspondencia 300–1; López de Meneses, Pedro el Ceremonosio 345 (no. XVI). 46. Letter of Peter IV to al-Nāṣir Ḥasan dated 23 January 1361: Vincke, Pedro IV 4–5. 47. Letter of Peter IV to (r. 762–4/1361–3) dated 12 October 1361: López de Meneses, Correspondencia 302. 48. Letter of Peter IV to al-Manṣūr Muḥammad dated 26 December 1362: López de Meneses, Correspondencia 303–4; López de Meneses, Los consulados 138–40 (no. IV); Golubovich, Biblioteca iv, 410–1. 49. Letter of Peter IV to the governor of Alexandria dated 11 September 1364: López de Meneses, Correspondencia 305. 50. Letter of Peter IV to al-Ashraf Shaʿbān dated 28 March 1366: López de Meneses, Correspondencia 306. 51–2. Two letters of Peter IV to al-Ashraf Shaʿbān dated 20 June 1366: López de Meneses, Correspondencia 307–9, 310–1. 53. Instructions delivered to the ambassadors sent to al-Ashraf Shaʿbān datable to June 1366: López de Meneses, Los consulados 141–3 (no. VI); López de Meneses, Pedro el Ceremonosio 321 (excerpt only). 54. Letter of Peter IV to al-Ashraf Shaʿbān dated 4 December 1368: López de Meneses, Correspondencia 312. 55. Letter of Peter IV to al-Ashraf Shaʿbān dated 3 October 1370: López de Meneses, Correspondencia 313–5. 281

The letter is addressed to al-Nāṣir Ḥasan, though he had been replaced by one of his brothers for the previous two years.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

71

56.

Letter of Peter IV to a high amir of al-Ashraf Shaʿbān dated 8 October 1373: López de Meneses, Correspondencia 316; López de Meneses, Pedro el Ceremonosio 352 (no. XXV). 57. Instructions delivered to the ambassador sent to al-Ashraf Shaʿbān dated 9 October 1373: López de Meneses, Pedro el Ceremonosio 353– 5 (no. XXVI). 58. Letter of Peter IV to al-Ashraf Shaʿbān dated 10 October 1373: López de Meneses, Correspondencia 316–7; López de Meneses, Pedro el Ceremonosio 355–6 (no. XXVII). 59. Letter of Peter IV to al-Manṣūr ʿAlī (r. 778–83/1377–82) dated 24 November 1377: López de Meneses, Correspondencia 320–1. 60. Instructions delivered to the ambassador sent to al-Manṣūr ʿAlī dated June 1379: López de Meneses, Los consulados 147–9 (no. X). 61–2. Two letters of Peter IV to al-Manṣūr ʿAlī dated 17 June 1379: López de Meneses, Los consulados 149–50 (no. XI: the first letter only); López de Meneses, Correspondencia 322–3. 63. Letter of Peter IV to al-Manṣūr ʿAlī dated 1 June 1380: López de Meneses, Correspondencia 324. 64. Letter of Peter IV to the atābak Barqūq dated 1 June 1380: López de Meneses, Correspondencia 324–5. 65. Letter of Peter IV to al-Manṣūr ʿAlī dated 3 September 1380: de Bofarull y Mascaré, Colección vi, 370–2 (no. CXVII); de Mas Latrie, Histoire iii, 759–60. 66. Letter of Peter IV to the governor of Alexandria dated 3 October 1380: de Bofarull y Mascaré, Colección vi, 372–4 (no. CXVIII). 67. Letter of Peter IV to al-Ṣāliḥ Ḥājjī (r. 783–4/1381–2) dated 3 May 1382: Rubió y Lluch, Diplomatari 561 (no. DIX). 68. Letter of Peter IV to the governor of Alexandria dated 3 May 1382: Rubió y Lluch, Diplomatari 562 (no. DX). 69. Letter of Peter IV to al-Ẓāhir Barqūq (r. 784–91/1382–89; 792–801/1390– 9) datable to June 1383: López de Meneses, Correspondencia 328. 70. Letter of Peter IV to al-Ẓāhir Barqūq dated 1 June 1384: López de Meneses, Los consulados 152 (no. XIV); López de Meneses, Correspondencia 329. 71. Letter of Peter IV to the caliph and the supreme judges of Cairo dated 1 June 1384: López de Meneses, Los consulados 153 (no. XV); López de Meneses, Correspondencia 329–30.282 282

A similar letter was addressed to the supreme judges of Alexandria, but it was not copied into the registers. López de Meneses, Correspondencia 329–30.

72 72.

73.

74.

75. 76. 77.

78.

79. 80.

81. 82. 83.

84.

85.

283

bauden

Letter of Peter IV to the governor of Alexandria dated 21 June 1384: López de Meneses, Los consulados 154 (no. XVII); López de Meneses, Correspondencia 330. Letter of Peter IV to al-Ẓāhir Barqūq dated 13 October 1384: López de Meneses, Los consulados 155 (no. XVIII); López de Meneses, Correspondencia 331–2. Letter of Peter IV to the supreme judge of Cairo dated 13 October 1384: López de Meneses, Los consulados 156 (no. XIX); López de Meneses, Correspondencia 332.283 Letter of Peter IV to al-Ẓāhir Barqūq dated 30 June 1385: López de Meneses, Correspondencia 333. Letter of Peter IV to al-Ẓāhir Barqūq dated 20 November 1385: López de Meneses, Correspondencia 334. Letter of Peter IV to the Mālikī judge in Cairo dated 20 November 1385: López de Meneses, Los consulados 159 (no. XXIII); López de Meneses Correspondencia 334–5. Letter of Peter IV to the chamberlain in Cairo dated 20 November 1385: López de Meneses, Los consulados 159 (no. XXIV); López de Meneses Correspondencia 335. Letter of Peter IV to the governor of Damascus dated 20 November 1385: López de Meneses, Los consulados 158 (no. XXII). Letter of Peter IV to al-Ẓāhir Barqūq dated 6 January 1386: López de Meneses, Los consulados 160–1 (no. XXV); López de Meneses, Correspondencia 336–7. Letter of Peter IV to al-Ẓāhir Barqūq dated 11 May 1386: López de Meneses, Los consulados 165 (no. XXX). Instructions delivered to the ambassador sent to al-Ẓāhir Barqūq dated May 1386: López de Meneses, Los consulados 166–8 (no. XXXII). Letter of John I (r. 1387–97) to the governor, the chamberlain, and various other officials in Damascus and Beirut dated 2 October 1392: López de Meneses, Los consulados 171–2 (no. XXXVI). Letter of Martin I (r. 1396–1410) to the governor of Damascus or his lieutenant dated 14 June 1397: López de Meneses, Los consulados 175–6 (no. XXXVIII). Letter of Martin I to al-Ẓāhir Barqūq dated 18 September 1398: López de Meneses, Los consulados 176–7 (no. XXXIX).

Three similar letters were sent to the governor of Alexandria, the chamberlain, and the secretary of the chancery. It was not copied into the registers. Ibid.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

86.

87. 88. 89. 90.

91.

7.2 7.2.1 7.2.1.1 1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

284

73

Letter of Martin I to al-Ẓāhir Barqūq dated 17 September 1399: Golubovich, Biblioteca v, 329; López de Meneses, Pedro el Ceremonosio 327 (excerpt only). Letter addressed to the authorities of Alexandria dated 7 October 1459: de Capmany y Palau, Memorias ii, 559 (no. 382). Letter addressed to al-Ashraf Īnāl (r. 857–65/1453–61) dated 24 July 1460: de Capmany y Palau, Memorias ii, 568 (no. 385). Letter addressed to al-Ashraf Qāytbāy (r. 872–901/1468–96) dated 10 May 1486: de Capmany y Palau, Memorias ii, 597 (no. 409). Letter of credentials for the Catalan consul addressed to al-Nāṣir Muḥammad b. Qāytbāy (r. 901–4/1496–8) dated 15 October 1498: de Capmany y Palau, Memorias ii, 623 (no. 427). Letter of credentials for the Catalan consul addressed to al-Ashraf Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī (r. 906–22/1501–16) and dated 2 June 1508: de Capmany y Palau, Memorias ii, 633 (no. 436). Florence Mamluk Documents Original Documents Letter of al-Ashraf Barsbāy to the Florentine authorities dated 5 Shawwāl 825/22 September 1422: Amari, I diplomi 165–8 (no. XXXVII of the prima serie); Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion ii, 19–39. Decree issued by al-Ashraf Qāytbāy and addressed to the authorities of the sultanate dated 6 Dhū l-Ḥijja 894/31 October 1489:284 Wansbrough, A Mamlūk commercial treaty 52–70; Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion ii, 51–95. Letter of al-Ashraf Qāytbāy to Lorenzo de’ Medici (r. 1469–92) dated 24 Dhū l-Ḥijja 894/18 November 1489: Amari, I diplomi 181–3 (no. XXXIX of the prima serie); Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion ii, 41–50. Letter of al-Nāṣir Muḥammad b. Qāytbāy to the governor of Damascus dated 25 Jumādā I 902/29 January 1497: Wansbrough, Venice and Florence 497–523; Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion ii, 97–153. Letter of al-Nāṣir Muḥammad b. Qāytbāy to the governor of Alexandria dated 7 Jumādā II 902/10 February 1497: Amari, I diplomi 184–209 (no. XL of the prima serie); Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion ii, 155–208.

There is an eighteenth-century Arabic copy of this document together with an Italian translation (different than doc. no. 16) in MS 50 (Florence, National Library, Fondo del Furia, fols. 1a–18a). See Wansbrough, A Mamlūk commercial treaty 50 (no. H).

74

bauden

6.

Letter of al-Nāṣir Muḥammad b. Qāytbāy to the authorities of Florence dated 10 Jumādā II 902/13 February 1497: Amari, I diplomi 210–3 (no. XLI of the prima serie); Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion ii, 209–18. Decree issued by Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī and addressed to the authorities of the sultanate dated 18 Dhū l-Qaʿda 911/12 April 1506: Amari, I diplomi 214–7 (no. XLII of the prima serie); Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion ii, 219–29. Decree issued by Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī and addressed to the authorities of Florence dated 12 Jumādā II 913/19 October 1507: Amari, I diplomi 218–20 (no. XLIII of the prima serie); Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion ii, 231–39. Decree issued by Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī and addressed to the authorities of Alexandria dated 14 Rabīʿ I 916/21 June 1510: Amari, I diplomi 226–9 (no. XLV of the prima serie); Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion ii, 241–50. Letter of Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī to the authorities of Florence dated 14 Rabīʿ I 916/21 June 1510: Amari, I diplomi 221–5 (no. XLIV of the prima serie); Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion ii, 251–63.

7.

8.

9.

10.

7.2.1.2 Translations 11. Letter of al-Ashraf Barsbāy to the authorities of Florence dated 5 Shawwāl 825/22 September 1422 (see no. 1): Amari, I diplomi 336–7 (no. XXXVIII of the seconda serie); Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion ii, 275–6. 12. Decree issued by al-Ashraf Barsbāy to the authorities of Florence dated 5 Shawwāl 825/22 September 1422: Amari, I diplomi 338–40 (no. XXXIX of the seconda serie); Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion ii, 277–9. 13. Decree issued by al-Ashraf Barsbāy and addressed to the authorities of Alexandria dated 8 Shawwāl 825/25 September 1422: Amari, I diplomi 341–3 (no. XL of the seconda serie); Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion ii, 281–4. 14. Letter of al-Ashraf Qāytbāy to Lorenzo de’ Medici dated 16 Dhū l-Qaʿda 889/5 December 1484: Amari, I diplomi: Appendice 46 (no. XXXI of the seconda serie). 15. Draft of a decree to be issued by Qāytbāy to the authorities of Florence datable to 893/1488:285 Amari, I diplomi 363–71 (no. XLV of the seconda serie); Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion ii, 299–307. 16. Decree of Qāytbāy addressed to the authorities of Alexandria dated 6 Muḥarram 894/14 December 1488: Amari, I diplomi 382–6 (no. XLVIII of the seconda serie).

285

There is an authenticated copy of this document in MS 49 (Florence, National Library, Fondo del Furia). See Wansbrough, A Mamlūk commercial treaty 50 (no. D).

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

17.

18.

19.

7.2.2 20.

21.

22.

23. 24.

25. 26.

27. 28.

29. 30.

75

Decree with safe-conduct issued by Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī regarding the Florentines dated Rajab–Shaʿbān 914/November 1508: Amari, I diplomi 388 (no. L of the seconda serie); Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion ii, 321–2. Decree of Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī addressed to the authorities of Alexandria dated 14 Rabīʿ I 916/21 June 1510: Amari, I diplomi 389–90 (no. LI of the seconda serie); Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion ii, 323–4. Letter of Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī to the authorities of Alexandria dated 14 Rabīʿ I 916/21 June 1510: Amari, I diplomi 391–2 (no. LII of the seconda serie); Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion ii, 325–6. Florentine Documents Instructions given to the two ambassadors, Felice Brancacci and Carlo Federighi, designated by the Florentine authorities dated 14 June 1422: Amari, I diplomi 331–5 (no. XXXVII of the seconda serie); Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion ii, 269–73. Letter of the Florentine authorities to al-Ashraf Barsbāy dated 15 January 1435: Amari, I diplomi: Appendice 15–16 (no. V); Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion ii, 289–90. Letter of the Florentine authorities to al-Ẓāhir Jaqmaq dated 11 May 1445: Amari, I diplomi: Appendice 17–8 (no. VI); Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion ii, 291–2. Letter of the Florentine authorities to the authorities of Alexandria dated 11 May 1445: Amari, I diplomi: Appendice 18 (no. VI). Letter of the Florentine authorities to al-Ẓāhir Khushqadam dated 14 August 1465: Amari, I diplomi: Appendice 38–9 (no. XXII); Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion ii, 293–4. Letter of the Florentine authorities to the governor of Alexandria dated 14 August 1465: Amari, I diplomi: Appendice 39–40 (no. XXII). Letter of the Florentine authorities to Qāytbāy dated 28 February 1476: Amari, I diplomi: Appendice 43 (no. XXVIII); Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion ii, 295. Letter of the Florentine authorities to the governor of Alexandria dated 28 February 1476: Amari, I diplomi: Appendice 43–4 (no. XXVIII). Emendations proposed by Florentine merchants to doc. no. 15 dated 27 November 1487: Amari, I diplomi 361–2 (no. XLIV of the seconda serie); Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion ii, 297–8. Letter of Lorenzo de’ Medici addressed to al-Ashraf Qāytbāy dated 10 June 1488: Bandini, Collectio 12–13. Instructions given to the ambassador Luigi della Stufa dated 15 Novem-

76

31.

32.

7.3 7.3.1 7.3.1.1 1.

2.

3.

bauden

ber 1488: Amari, I diplomi 372–3 (no. XLVI of the seconda serie); Meli, Firenze 260–1 (no. 2); Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion ii, 309–10. Petition made by the Florentine ambassador Luigi della Stufa to alAshraf Qāytbāy datable to 1488: Amari, I diplomi 374–81 (no. XLVII of the seconda serie); Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion ii, 311–8. Letter of the Florentine authorities to Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī dated 13 April 1507: Amari, I diplomi 387 (no. XLIX of the seconda serie); Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion ii, 319. Venice Mamluk Documents Original Documents Letter of al-Ashraf Qāytbāy to the doge dated 10 Shaʿbān 877/10 January 1473: Labib, Ein Brief; Wansbrough, A Mamluk letter; Hours, Fraude commerciale. Request made to Venice for payment of the Cyprus tribute with receipt of the amount dated, respectively, 6 Dhū l-Ḥijja 895/21 October 1490 and 22 Dhū l-Qaʿda 895/7 October 1490 (Documenti Algeri, Egitto, Marocco, busta unica: Egitto, no. 2a): unpublished.286 Draft of a decree to be issued by Ṭūmān Bāy (r. 922–3/1516–7) regarding the Venetian merchants dated 22 Muḥarram 923/14 February 1517 (Oriental Institute Museum (Chicago), no. 13789): Moritz, Ein Firman; Hartmann, Das Privileg.287

7.3.1.2 Translations 4. Decree issued by al-Muʿizz Aybak (r. 648–55/1250–7) regarding the Venetian merchants dated 13 Dhū l-Qaʿda 652/13 November 1254:288 Tafel/Thomas, Urkunden ii, 483–9 (no. CCCXXV); de Mas Latrie, Traités iii, 77–80 (no. IV). 5. Letter of [al-Manṣūr ʿAlī b.] al-Muʿizz Aybak to the doge dated 8 Dhū lQaʿda 656/5 December 1258:289 Tafel/Thomas, Urkunden ii, 490–1 (nos. CCCXXVI–CCCXXVII). 286 287 288

289

To be published by F. Bauden. See also Frantz-Murphy’s article in this volume. The date indicated according to the Muslim era (the translation gives a corrupted form for the month “Gsuc” which must correspond to Dhū l-Qaʿda, not Shawwāl as suggested by Tafel and Thomas) fell on 25 December 1254. For another interpretation of Gsuc, see Mourkarzel’s article in this volume, p. 705. The year is not indicated for the Muslim date. The date given according to the Common Era fell on 6 November 1258. Al-Muʿizz Aybak died in 655/1257 and his son was on the throne at the time this document was allegedly issued.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

6.

7.

8.

9.

10.

11.

12. 13.

14.

15. 16. 17.

18.

19.

77

Safe-conduct issued by al-Manṣūr Qalāwūn (r. 678–89/1279–90) for the Venetian merchants dated 29 Shawwāl 687/26 November 1288: de Mas Latrie, Traités iii, 81–82 (no. VI). Safe-conduct issued by al-Nāṣir Muḥammad for the Venetian merchants dated 6 Dhū l-Ḥijja 701/2 August 1302: Thomas/Predelli, Diplomatarium i, 5 (no. 4); de Mas Latrie, Traités iii, 82 (no. VII/i). Decree issued by al-Nāṣir Muḥammad regarding the Venetian merchants dated 9 Dhū l-Ḥijja 701/5 August 1302: Thomas/Predelli, Diplomatarium i, 5–9 (no. 4); de Mas Latrie, Traités iii, 83–5 (no. VII/ii). Letter of al-Nāṣir Muḥammad addressed to the governor of Alexandria dated 11 Dhū l-Ḥijja 701/7 August 1302: Thomas/Predelli, Diplomatarium i, 9–10 (no. 5); de Mas Latrie, Traités iii, 86–7 (no. VIII/i). Decree issued by al-Nāṣir Muḥammad and addressed to the Alexandrian authorities dated 11 Dhū l-Ḥijja 701/7 August 1302: Thomas/Predelli, Diplomatarium i, 10–11 (no. 5); de Mas Latrie, Traités iii, 87 (no. VIII/ii). Letter of the governor of Alexandria to the doge dated 22 Dhū l-Ḥijja 701/18 August 1302: Thomas/Predelli, Diplomatarium i, 11–2 (no. 6); de Mas Latrie, Traités iii, 87–8 (no. VIII/iii). Letter of the governor of Alexandria addressed to the doge datable to 703–4/1304: Thomas/Predelli, Diplomatarium i, 25 (no. 13). Letter of the governor of Ṣafad addressed to the doge dated Ṣafar 704/September 1304: Thomas/Predelli, Diplomatarium i, 30–1 (no. 17). Letter addressed by al-Ṣāliḥ Ismāʿīl (r. 743–6/1342–5) to the doge datable to Ramaḍān-Shawwāl 744/February 1344: Thomas/Predelli, Diplomatarium i, 290–2 (no. 153). Decree issued by al-Ṣāliḥ Ismāʿīl regarding the Venetian merchants datable to 744/1344: Thomas/Predelli, Diplomatarium i, 292–6 (no. 154). Letter addressed by al-Ṣāliḥ Ismāʿīl to the doge dated 6 Rabīʿ II 746/6 August 1345: Thomas/Predelli, Diplomatarium i, 296–7 (no. 155). Decree issued by al-Nāṣir Ḥasan regarding the Venetian merchants datable to 756/1355: Thomas/Predelli, Diplomatarium ii, 19–23 (no. 12); de Mas Latrie, Traités iii, 88–92 (no. IX/i). Letter of the supreme judge of Cairo to the governor and the judge of Alexandria dated 5 Dhū l-Qaʿda 756/11 November 1355: Thomas/Predelli, Diplomatarium ii, 24 (no. 13); de Mas Latrie, Traités iii, 92 (no. IX/ii). Decree issued by al-Manṣūr Muḥammad (r. 762–4/1361–3) regarding

78

20.

21.

22.

23.

24.

25.

26.

27.

28.

29.

290

bauden

the Venetian merchants dated 1 Ṣafar 763/30 November 1361: Thomas/ Predelli, Diplomatarium ii, 80 (no. 47); de Mas Latrie, Traités iii, 93 (no. X). Letter of al-Ashraf Shaʿbān (r. 764–78/1363–77) to the doge, Marco Cornaro, datable to 767–8/1366: Thomas/Predelli, Diplomatarium ii, 113–5 (no. 68). Decree issued by al-Ashraf Shaʿbān regarding the Venetian merchants datable to 776–7/1375: Thomas/Predelli, Diplomatarium ii, 168–71 (no. 100); de Mas Latrie, Traités iii, 93–4 (no. XI). Letter of al-Muʾayyad Shaykh to the doge, Tommaso Mocenigo (r. 1414– 23), dated 12 Rajab 818/15 November 1415: Thomas/Predelli, Diplomatarium ii, 306–8 (no. 167). Decree issued by al-Muʾayyad Shaykh regarding the Venetian merchants and addressed to the authorities of the sultanate dated 12 Rajab 818/15 November 1415: Thomas/Predelli, Diplomatarium ii, 309–15 (no. 168). Decree addressed to the governor of Alexandria dated 2 Rabīʿ I 821/9 April 1418 (Procuratori di San Marco, Misti, busta 180, fasc. IX, no. 1, recto): unpublished. Safe-conduct issued for the Venetians dated 2 Rabīʿ I 821/9 April 1418 (Procuratori di San Marco, Misti, busta 180, fasc. IX, no. 1, verso): unpublished. Decree issued by al-Ashraf Barsbāy regarding the Venetian merchants and addressed to the authorities of the sultanate dated 1 Jumādā I 825/23 April 1422: Thomas/Predelli, Diplomatarium ii, 320–7 (no. 174). Letter of al-Ashraf Barsbāy to the doge, Tommaso Mocenigo, dated 8 Jumādā I 825/30 April 1422: Thomas/Predelli, Diplomatarium ii, 328–31 (no. 175). Decree issued by al-Ẓāhir Jaqmaq regarding the Venetian merchants and addressed to the authorities of the sultanate dated 27 Jumādā I 846/1 October 1442:290 Amari, I diplomi 347–53 (no. XLII); Thomas/Predelli, Diplomatarium ii, 353–8. (nos. 189–90); Wansbrough, Documents, no. I; Wansbrough, Venice and Florence 487–97. Decree issued by al-Ẓāhir Jaqmaq and addressed to the governor of Damietta dated 27 Jumādā I 846/1 October 1442: Amari, I diplomi 353–4; Thomas/Predelli, Diplomatarium ii, 359–60 (no. 191). The date indicated in the document (29) is the result of a misinterpretation of the unit. The other documents related to this one (see nos. 29–31) give 27 Jumādā I which, in any case, fell on 3 October 1442.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

30.

31.

32.

33.

34.

35.

36.

37. 38.

39.

40.

41.

291 292 293

79

Decree issued by al-Ẓāhir Jaqmaq and addressed to the governor of Beirut (?) dated 27 Jumādā I 846/1 October 1442: Amari, I diplomi 354 (summary only); Thomas/Predelli, Diplomatarium ii, 360 (no. 192) (summary only). Decree issued by al-Ẓāhir Jaqmaq and addressed to the prefect of Cairo dated 27 Jumādā I 846/1 October 1442: Amari, I diplomi 354–5; Thomas/Predelli, Diplomatarium ii, 360–1 (no. 193). Decree issued by al-Ẓāhir Jaqmaq and addressed to the governor of Alexandria dated 27 Jumādā I 846/2 October 1442: Amari, I diplomi 355– 6; Thomas/Predelli, Diplomatarium ii, 361–2 (no. 194). Letter of al-Ẓāhir Jaqmaq to the doge, Francesco Foscari (r. 1423–57), dated 5 Jumādā II 846/25 October 1442:291 Amari, I diplomi 357–9; Thomas/Predelli, Diplomatarium ii, 362–4 (no. 195). Letter of ʿUthmān, son of al-Ẓāhir Jaqmaq to the doge, Francesco Foscari, dated 25 Jumādā II 846/29 October 1442:292 Amari, I diplomi 359; Thomas/Predelli, Diplomatarium ii, 364–5 (no. 196). Decree issued by al-Ẓāhir Jaqmaq and addressed to the governor of Alexandria dated 24 Jumādā II 846/30 October 1442: Amari, I diplomi 356–7; Thomas/Predelli, Diplomatarium ii, 365–6 (no. 197). Letter of al-Ẓāhir Jaqmaq to the doge, Francesco Foscari, dated 26 Rabīʿ I 853/21 May 1449:293 Thomas/Predelli, Diplomatarium ii, 373–6 (no. 197). Letter of al-Ẓāhir Jaqmaq to the governor of Amman datable to Rabīʿ I 853/May 1449: Thomas/Predelli, Diplomatarium ii, 374–5 (no. 197). Decree of al-Ẓāhir Jaqmaq addressed to the governor of Beirut datable to Rabīʿ I 853/May 1449: Thomas/Predelli, Diplomatarium ii, 375–7 (no. 197). Decree of al-Ẓāhir Jaqmaq addressed to the governor of Tripoli datable to Rabīʿ I 853/May 1449: Thomas/Predelli, Diplomatarium ii, 377–8 (no. 197). Letter of al-Muʾayyad Aḥmad (r. 865/1461) to the doge dated 5 Ramaḍān 865/13 June 1461: Wansbrough, Documents, no. II; Pedani, Gli ultimi accordi 56–7 (no. I). Letter addressed by the executive secretary (dawādār) to the Venetian authorities dated 877/1473: Arbel, Levantine power struggles.

The date indicated corresponded to 11 October 1442. The date indicated corresponded to 31 October 1442. The date indicated corresponded to 19 May 1449.

80

bauden

42.

Decree of al-Ashraf Qāytbāy addressed to the governor of Damascus dated 17 Ṣafar 895/9 January 1490:294 Rossi, Ambasciata 127 (no. 51). 43. Decree of al-Ashraf Qāytbāy addressed to the governor of Damascus and the inspector of the privy dated 26 Ṣafar 895/19 January 1490: Rossi, Ambasciata 140–1 (no. 64). 44. Murabbaʿ decree issued by al-Ashraf Qāytbāy regarding the Venetian merchants dated 27 Ṣafar 895/20 January 1490: Wanbrough, Documents, no. III; Rossi, Ambasciata 232–3 (no. 144). 45. Decree of al-Ashraf Qāytbāy addressed to the governor of Alexandria dated 6 Rabī I 895/28 January 1490: Rossi, Ambasciata 145–6 (no. 69). 46. Treaty between the Republic of Venice and the Mamluk sultanate to transfer Cyprus under Venetian rule dated 7 Rabī II 895/28 February 1490: Rossi, Ambasciata 226–7 (no. 139). 47. Contract between al-Ashraf Qāytbāy and the Venetian ambassador for the transition of the island of Cyprus to Venetian authority, dated 17 Rabīʿ II 895/9 March 1490: de Mas Latrie, Histoire iii, 478–81; facsimile and edition in Iskandar, Documents inédits, no. III; Arabic translation in Iskandar, Taʾrīkh Miṣr, no. III; Rossi, Ambasciata 227–9. 48. Decree of al-Ashraf Qāytbāy addressed to the governor of Damascus datable to Rabīʿ II 895/March 1490 (summary only): Rossi, Ambasciata 234–5 (no. 146). 49. Decree of al-Ashraf Qāytbāy addressed to the governor of Alexandria datable to Rabīʿ II 895/March 1490 (summary only): Rossi, Ambasciata 235–6 (no. 146). 50. Decree of al-Ashraf Qāytbāy addressed to the governor of Aleppo datable to Rabīʿ II 895/March 1490 (summary only): Rossi, Ambasciata 236 (no. 146). 51. Receipt for the payment of an installment of the Cyprus tribute by the Venetian Republic to the Mamluk sultanate dated 18 Rabīʿ II 895/11 March 1490: de Mas Latrie, Histoire iii, 481. 52. Letter of al-Ashraf Qāytbāy to the doge, Agostino Barbarigo, datable to Rabīʿ II 895/March 1490: de Mas Latrie, Histoire iii, 481–3. 53. Letter of the governor of Alexandria addressed to the doge and dated 23 Jumādā I 900/19 February 1495: Sanuto, Diarii i, cols. 133–5. 54–5. Two letters of al-Ẓāhir Qānṣawh I addressed to the Venetian representatives in Cyprus and dated 26 Rabīʿ I 904/12 November 1498: Sanuto, Diarii ii, cols. 614, 614–616.

294

The date indicated corresponded to 10 January 1490.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

56.

57. 58.

59.

60.

61. 62. 63.

64. 65. 66. 67.

68.

69. 70.

71.

81

Letter of Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī addressed to the doge (reached Venice in December 1501): Sanuto, Diarii iv, cols. 187–8 (ʿunwān (inscriptio and intitulatio) only). Letter of Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī addressed to the doge and dated 4 Ṣafar 909/29 July 1503: Sanuto, Diarii v, cols. 887–8. Letter of Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī addressed to the doge and dated 4 Ṣafar 909/29 July 1503: Sanuto, Diarii v, cols. 887–8 (summary translated in Alexandria) and 888–90 (full text). Letter of Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī to the doge dated 27 Shaʿbān 909/14 February 1504: Wansbrough, Documents, no. IV/i; Pedani, Gli ultimi accordi 57–9 (no. II). Murabbaʿ decree issued by Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī regarding the Venetian merchants datable to 27 Shaʿbān 909/14 February 1504: Wansbrough, Documents, no. IV/ii; Pedani, Gli ultimi accordi 59–60 (no. III). Letter of Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī addressed to the doge and dated 8 Shawwāl 911/4 March 1506: Sanuto, Diarii vii, cols. 203–7 and 207–10. Letter of Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī addressed to the doge and dated 16 Shawwāl 912/1 March 1507: Sanuto, Diarii vii, cols. 215–20. Treaty concluded between Venice and the Mamluk ambassador Taghrī Birdī dated 18 Muḥarram 913/31 May 1507: Wansbrough, Documents, no. V; Wansbrough, A Mamluk ambassador. Decree of Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī regarding the Venetian merchants issued in Rajab 913/November 1507: Sanuto, Diarii vii, cols. 596–7. Letter of Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī addressed to the doge and dated 25 Muḥarram 916/4 May 1510: Sanuto, Diarii xi, cols. 115–7. Letter of the governor of Alexandria to the doge received in August 1510: Sanuto, Diarii xi, col. 106. Decree issued by Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī regarding the Venetian merchants dated 20 Rabīʿ I 918/5 June 1512: Marin, Storia vii, 288–321; Reinaud, Traités (French trans. only); Wansbrough, Documents, no. VI/i. Decree issued by Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī regarding the Venetian merchants dated Rabīʿ II–Jumādā I 918/July 1512: Wansbrough, Documents, no. VI/ii; Pedani, Gli ultimi accordi 60–2 (no. IV). Letter of Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī addressed to the doge dated 16 Jumādā I 918/30 July 1512: Sanuto, Diarii xv, cols. 264–6. Decree issued by Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī and addressed to the governor of Alexandria dated Rabīʿ II–Jumādā I 918/July 1512: Wansbrough, Documents, no. VI/iii; Pedani, Gli ultimi accordi 62–4 (no. V). Decree issued by Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī and addressed to the governor

82

72.

73.

74. 75.

76.

77.

7.3.2 78.

79.

80.

7.4 7.4.1 7.4.1.1 1.

2.

3.

bauden

of Damascus datable to Rabīʿ II–Jumādā I 918/July 1512: Wansbrough, Documents, no. VI/iv. Decree issued by Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī and addressed to the governor of Tripoli datable to Rabīʿ II–Jumādā I 918/July 1512: Wansbrough, Documents, no. VI/v. Decree issued by Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī and addressed to the governor of Aleppo datable to Rabīʿ II–Jumādā I 918/July 1512: Wansbrough, Documents, no. VI/vi. Letter of Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī addressed to the doge dated 28 Rabīʿ II 920/22 June 1514: Sanuto, Diarii xix, cols. 42–5. Decree of Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī regarding the Venetian merchants in Alexandria dated 17 Dhū l-Qaʿda 920/3 January 1515: Sanuto, Diarii xx, cols. 171–3 Decree of Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī regarding the Venetian merchants in Damietta datable to 17 Dhū l-Qaʿda 920/3 January 1515: Sanuto, Diarii xx, cols. 173–4. Letter of Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī addressed to the doge dated 18 Muḥarram 921/4 March 1515: Sanuto, Diarii xx, cols. 357–60. Venetian Documents Instructions delivered by the doge, Tommaso Mocenigo, to the two ambassadors Bernardo Loredan and Lorenzo Capello dated 23 December 1421: Thomas/Predelli, Diplomatarium ii, 332–40 (no. 176). Instructions delivered by the doge, Agostin Bargarigo (r. 1486–1501), to his ambassador Pietro Diedo dated 10 September 1489: de Mas Latrie, Histoire iii, 472–8; Rossi, Ambasciata 259–4 (no. XV). Letter of the doge, Leonardo Loredano (r. 1501–21), to Qānṣawh alGhawrī dated 26 October 1506: Sanuto, Diarii vii, cols. 211–14. Ragusa Mamluk Documents Original Documents Letter of the governor of Alexandria addressed to the ruler of Ragusa dated 18 Rabīʿ I 916/25 June 1510: Korkut, Arapski dokumenti 12–21 (no. 1). Letter of Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī addressed to the ruler of Ragusa dated 1 Shawwāl 921/8 November 1515: Korkut, Arapski dokumenti 22–37 (no. 2). Decree issued by Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī for the establishment of a Ragu-

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

83

san consulate in Alexandria dated 18 Shawwāl 921/25 November 1515: Korkut, Arapski dokumenti 38–53 (no. 3). 7.5 7.5.1 7.5.1.1 1.

Ottomans Mamluk Documents Original Document Letter of Khāʾir Bāy, governor of Aleppo, addressed to Bāyazīd II (r. 886–918/1481–1512) dated 7 Rabīʿ I 917/4 June 1511 (Başbakanlık Arşivi, İbnü’l-emin Hariciye 1, T.E. 5483): unpublished.295 Letter of Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī addressed to Selīm I (r. 918–26/1512–20) dated 29 Ṣafar 922/3 April 1516: Edhem, Mısır Fethi 30–1.

2.

7.5.1.2 Translation 3. Letter of Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī addressed to Bāyazīd II, undated but linked to an embassy that took place in Rabīʿ II 916/July 1510 (Başbakanlık Arşivi, İbnü’l-emin Hariciye 1, T.E. 5464): unpublished.296 7.5.1.3 Ottoman Document 4. Letter of Meḥmed II (r. 848–50/1444–6, 855–86/1451–81) addressed to al-Ashraf Qāytbāy dated Dhū l-Ḥijja 881/March–April 1477 (Başbakanlık Arşivi, İbnü’l-emin Hariciye 1, T.E. 5848): unpublished.297 7.6 7.6.1 7.6.1.1 1.

France Mamluk Document Original Decree issued by Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī regarding the Catalan and French merchants dated 1 Rabīʿ II 913/10 August 1507: we do not have a preserved copy, but it was largely reproduced in the decree issued by Sulaymān II (r. 926–74/1520–66) regarding the same merchants dated 6 Muḥarram 935/20 September 1528.298

7.6.1.2 Translations 2. Letter of al-Ẓāhir Jaqmaq to Charles VII (r. 1422–61) datable to 850– 1/1447: d’Escouchy, Chronique i, 121–4. 295 296 297 298

Yüksel Muslu, The Ottomans 273. Yüksel Muslu, The Ottomans 271. Yüksel Muslu, The Ottomans 247. Published, with French translation, by M. Tuchscherer in Tuchscherer and Pedani, Alexandrie ottomane 1 32–41.

84

bauden

3.

Letter of Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī to Louis XII (r. 1498–1515) dated 14 Shaʿbān 916/16 November 1510: Le Maire de Belges, Le Traictié (an unpaginated excerpt at the end of the book).299

7.6.2 4. 5. 6.

7.7 7.7.1 7.7.1.1 1. 2.

7.7.2

French Documents Letter of Charles VII to al-Ẓāhir Jaqmaq dated 20 August 1451: Anonymous, Recueil d’actes, fol. 194. Undated letter of Charles VII to al-Ẓāhir Jaqmaq: Anonymous, Recueil d’actes, fols. 252a–b. Letter of Louis XI (r. 1461–83) to al-Ashraf Qāytbāy datable to the end of 1481: Anonymous, Recueil de lettres, fols. 112a–b; Vaesen, Lettres 136–8. Cyprus Mamluk Documents Translations Letter of al-Ashraf Īnāl to John II (r. 1432–58) datable shortly after Rabīʿ I 857/March 1453: de Mas Latrie, Histoire iii, 73–5.300 Letter of Qāytbāy to Catherine Cornaro (r. 1474–89) dated 10 Muḥarram 881/5 May 1476: de Mas Latrie, Histoire iii, 405–6. Cypriot Document

3.

Instructions given by Peter I (r. 1359–69) to the Venetian and Genoan ambassadors to negotiate a truce with the sultan on his behalf dated 19 May 1368: de Mas Latrie, Histoire ii, 302–8; Thomas/Predelli, Diplomatarium ii, 132–9 (no. 81).

7.8 7.8.1

Hospitallers of Rhodes Documents Issued by the Hospitallers

1.

Proposal from the grand master to al-Nāṣir Faraj for a treaty, dated 4 November 1403: Paoli, Codice diplomatico 108–10 (no. LXXXVI).

299

300

See also the copy in Rey, La Protection 111, n. 2. This appears to be a truncated copy. For a much longer version of the same letter translated in Venetian, see Sanuto, Diarii xii, cols. 624–30. Wrongly dated to 1 Muḥarram 861/29 November 1456 by de Mas Latrie. For the correct date, see below 729–30.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

85

2.

Letter from the grand master to al-Ẓāhir Jaqmaq dated 20 November 1448: de Mas Latrie, Histoire iii, 55–6.

7.9 7.9.1 7.9.1.1 1.

Genoa Mamluk Document Translation Truce between Qalāwūn and Genoa dated 13 May 1290: de Sacy, Pièces diplomatiques 33–52 (edition of the Arabic text in Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, Tashrīf al-ayyām and of the Latin translation of a second version that de Sacy found in the Genoese archives, that includes the viceregent’s oath on the sultan’s behalf); Amari, Nuovi ricordi 606–14 (Italian translation); Belgrano, Trattato (edition of the Latin translation); Holt, Early Mamluk Diplomacy 146–51 (English translation of the Arabic text).

7.10 7.10.1

Naples Neapolitan Document

1.

Letter of Joanna I (r. 1344–82) to al-Ashraf Shaʿbān dated 22 May 1363: Golubovich, Biblioteca iv, 50–1.

7.11 7.11.1

Pisa Pisan Document

1.

Letter of credentials for the ambassador who was sent to al-Ẓāhir Barqūq dated 5 August 1385: Amari, I diplomi 315–6 (no. XXXIII).

7.12 7.12.1

Savoy Savoyard Document

1.

Letter sent by Charles I (r. 1482–90) to al-Ashraf Qāytbāy dated 18 August 1488 (draft: ASTo, Regno di Cipro, 1 d’addizione, letter no. 14 (18 August 1488)).301

301

Mentioned in Lazzarini, Écrire à l’ autre 177.

86

bauden

Bibliography Primary Sources (Handwritten) Anonymous, al-Durar al-manthūrāt [sic], MS Vollers 663, Leipzig, Universitätsbibliothek. Anonymous, Ijābat al-sāʾil ilā maʿrifat al-rasāʾil, MS Arabe 4437, Paris, BnF. Anonymous, Munshaʾa (Arabic), MS Arabe 4440, Paris, BnF; MS 1899, Algiers, Bibliothèque nationale. Anonymous, Muzīl al-ḥaṣr fī mukātabāt ahl al-ʿaṣr, MS Árabe 566, San Lorenzo de El Escorial, Biblioteca de El Escorial; MS Petermann 299, Berlin, Staatsbibliothek. Anonymous, Recueil d’actes des rois Charles VII et Louis XI, MS Français 5909, Paris, BnF. Anonymous, Recueil de lettres et de pièces originales, MS Français 2893, Paris, BnF. Anonymous, Zuhrat al-nāẓirīn wa-nuzhat al-nādhirīn, MS Or. 1052, Leiden, Universiteitsbibliotheek. al-Ḥalabī, Shams al-Dīn Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad al-Ḥanafī, al-Tibyān fī ṣṭilāḥ ahl alzamān, MS Mf72, Berlin, Staatsbibliothek. Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, al-Nubdha al-kāfiya fī maʿrifat awḍāʿ al-kitāba wa-l-qāfiya, MS Vollers 493, Leipzig, Universitätsbibliothek. Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, al-Tarassul fī qawāʿid al-mukātabāt, MS 2479, fols. 42–58, Istanbul, Topkapı Sarayı Müzesi Kütüphanesi. Ibn al-Ḥanbalī, ʿAbdallāh b. Muḥammad al-Zakī al-Ghazzī l-Ḥanafī, al-Murūj al-zakiyya fī tawshiyat al-durūj al-khiṭābiyya, MS Árabe 557, San Lorenzo de El Escorial, Biblioteca de El Escorial; MS 471, Riyadh, Maktabat Jāmiʿat al-Malik Saʿūd; MS 4766, fols. 220–78, Tunis, Dār al-Kutub al-Waṭaniyya. Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ, MS Sprenger 1223, Berlin, Staatsbibliothek; MS 1898, Algiers, Bibliothèque nationale. Ibn al-Qalqashandī, Qalāʾid al-jumān fī muṣṭalaḥ mukātabāt ahl al-zamān, MS OR. 3625, London, BL. al-Qalqashandī, Aḥmad b. ʿAbdallāh, al-Juzʾ al-awwal min Ḍawʾ al-ṣubḥ al-musfir wajanā l-dawḥ al-muthmir, ikhtiṣār Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā fī ṣināʿat al-inshāʾ, MS A2603, Istanbul, Topkapı Sarayı Müzesi Kütüphanesi; MS ʿAyn 1122, Tehran, Kitābkhāna-yi Millī-i Jumhūrī-i Islāmī-i Īrān. al-Qalqashandī, Aḥmad b. ʿAbdallāh, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā fī ṣināʿat al-inshāʾ, MS 1897, Algiers, Bibliothèque nationale. al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim fī ṣināʿat al-kātib wa-l-kātim, MS Ar. 4439, Paris, BnF. al-Saḥmāwī, al-ʿUrf al-nāsim ʿalā l-Thaġr al-bāsim fī ṣināʿat al-kātib wa-l-kātim, MS 13158 zāy, Cairo, Dār al-Kutub. al-Ṭayyibī, Jāmiʿ maḥāsin kitābat al-kuttāb wa-nuzhat ūlī l-baṣāʾir wa-l-albāb, MS K882, Istanbul, Topkapı Sarayı Müzesi Kütüphanesi; MS Ar. 97, Manchester, University of Manchester, John Rylands University Library.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

87

Primary Sources (Printed) al-Baghdādī, Ismāʿīl Bāshā, Hadiyyat al-ʿārifīn: asmāʾ al-muʾallifīn wa-āthār al-muṣannifīn, ed. Ş. Yaltkaya and R. Bilge, 2 vols., Istanbul 1951. al-Baghdādī, Ismāʿīl Bāshā, Īḍāḥ al-maknūn fī al-dhayl ʿalā Kashf al-ẓunūn, ed. Ş. Yaltkaya and R. Bilge, 2 vols., Istanbul 1945. Bandini, A.M., Collectio veterum aliquot monimentorum ad historiam praecipue litterariam pertinentium, Arezzo 1753. d’Escouchy, Mathieu, Chronique, ed. G. du Fresne de Beaucourt, 3 vols., Paris 1863–4. Ferīdūn Beg, Mecmūʿa-yi münşeʾāt-i selāṭīn, 2 vols., Istanbul 1857–9. Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, al-Nubdha al-kāfiya fī maʿrifat awḍāʿ al-kitāba, ed. ʿA.M. Zīnū, Amman [2017]. Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, al-Taʿrīf bi-l-muṣṭalaḥ al-sarīf, ed. S. al-Durūbī, al-Karak 1992. Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, ʿUrf al-taʿrīf fī l-mukātabāt: awwal dustūr fī l-alqāb al-tashrīfiyya fī lughat al-ʿArab, ed. S. al-Durūbī, Amman 2008. Ibn Ḥijja, Das Rauschgetränk der Stilkunst oder Qahwat al-inšāʾ von Taqīyuddīn Abū Bakr. b. ʿAlī Ibn Ḥiǧǧa al-Ḥamawī al-Azrārī, ed. R. Veselý, Beirut and Berlin 2005. Ibn Nāẓir al-Jaysh, Tathqīf al-taʿrīf bi-l-muṣṭalaḥ al-sharīf, ed. R. Veselý, Cairo 1987. Ibn al-Ṣāʾiġ, Tuḥfat al-albāb fī ṣināʿat al-khaṭṭ wa-l-kitāb, ed. H. Nāǧī, Tunis 1981. Kātib Çelebi, Kashf al-ẓunūn ʿan asāmī al-kutub wa-l-funūn, ed. Ş. Yaltkaya and R. Bilge, 2 vols., Istanbul 1941. Le Maire de Belges, J., Le Traictie intitule de la difference des scismes et des concilles de léglise et de la prééminence et utilité des concilles de la saincte église gallicaine, Lyon 1511. López de Ayala, P., Crónica de Juan I, Madrid 1868. al-Mawṣilī, al-Burd al-muwashshā fī ṣināʿat al-inshāʾ, ed. ʿA.S. Ṣabra, Beirut 1990. al-Qalqashandī, Ḍawʾ al-ṣubḥ al-musfir wa-janā l-dawḥ al-muthmir: mukhtaṣar Ṣubḥ alaʿshā fī kitābat al-inshāʾ, ed. M. Salāma, Cairo 1906. al-Qalqashandī, Maʾāthir al-ināfa fī maʿālim al-khilāfa, ed. ʿA. al-S.A. Farrāj, 3 vols., Kuwait 1964. al-Qalqashandī, Selections from Ṣubḥ al-Aʿshā by al-Qalqashandī, clerk of the Mamluk court: Egypt, “Seats of government” and “Regulations of the kingdom,” from early Islam to the Mamluks, trans. H. el-Toudy and T.G. Abdelhamid, London 2017. al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā fī ṣināʿat al-inshāʾ, ed. M.ʿA. al-R. Ibrāhīm, 14 vols., Cairo 1913–9, 21963. al-Saḥmāwī, Biḍāʿat al-mujawwad fī l-khaṭṭ wa-uṣūlihi, in Ḥabīb Efendi (ed.), Hatt vehattâtîn, 278–85; in H. Nājī (ed.), Nuṣūṣ fī l-khaṭṭ al-ʿarabī, in al-Mawrid 15/4 (1986), 249–58. al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim fī ṣināʿat al-kātib wa-l-kātim, ed. A.M. Anas Mursī, 2 vols., Cairo 2009. Sanuto, M., I diarii, ed. F. Stefani et al., 58 vols., Venice 1879–1903.

88

bauden

al-Ṭayyibī, Jāmiʿ maḥāsin kitābat al-kuttāb wa-nuzhat ūlī l-baṣāʾir wa-l-albāb, facsimile edition Ṣ. al-D. al-Munajjid, Beirut 1962; edition and facsimile of ʿA. al-ʿA. b. N. alMāniʿ, Riyadh 2015. al-Zaftāwī, Minhāj al-iṣāba fī maʿrifat al-khuṭūṭ wa-ālāt al-kitāba, in H. Nājī (ed.), Nuṣūṣ fī l-khaṭṭ al-ʿarabī, in al-Mawrid 15/4 (1986), 185–248.

Secondary Sources ʿAbd al-Karīm, A.ʿI. (ed.), Abū l-ʿAbbās al-Qalqashandī wa-kitābuhu “Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā,” Cairo 1973. Afshar, I., Catalogue of Persian manuscripts in the Austrian National Library and in the Austrian State Archives in Vienna, Tehran and Vienna 2003. Aigle, D., Rédaction, transmission, modalités d’archivage des correspondances diplomatiques entre Orient et Occident (XIIIe–début XVIe siècle), in La Correspondance entre souverains, princes et cités-états: Approches croisées entre l’Orient musulman, l’Occident et Byzance, Turnhout 2013, 9–26. Aigle, D. and M. Bernardini (eds.), Correspondances diplomatiques et traités de chancellerie, in ES XI/1–2 (2013), Rome and Halle 2013. Aigle, D. and P. Buresi (eds.), Les Relations diplomatiques entre le monde musulman et l’occident latin (XIIe–XVIe siècle), in OM LXXXVI/1 (2008), Rome 2008. Aigle, D. and S. Péquignot (eds.), La Correspondance entre souverains, princes et citésétats: Approches croisées entre l’Orient musulman, l’Occident et Byzance (XIIIe–début XVIe siècle), Turnhout 2013. Alarcón y Santón, M.A., and R.Y.T.P. García de Linares, Los documentos árabes diplomáticos del Archivo de la Coroña de Aragón, Madrid 1940. al-Droubi, S., A critical edition of and study on Ibn Faḍl Allāh’s manual of secretaryship “al-Taʿrīf bi’l-muṣṭalaḥ al-sharīf,” al-Karak 1992. al-Musawi, M., Pre-modern belletristic prose, in R. Allen and D.S. Richards (eds.), Arabic Literature in the post-classical period, Cambridge 2006, 101–33. Amari, M., Biblioteca arabo-sicula ossia raccolta di testi arabici che toccano la geografia, la storia, le biografie e la bibliografia della Sicilia, Leipzig 1857. Amari, M., I diplomi arabi del R. Archivio fiorentino, Florence 1863. Amari, M., I diplomi arabi del R. Archivio fiorentino: Appendice, Florence 1867. Amari, M., La guerra del vespro siciliano, 4th ed., Florence 1851. Amari, M., Nuovi ricordi arabici su la storia di Genova, Genoa 1873. Amari, M., Trattato stipolato da Giacomo II di Aragona col Sultano d’Egitto il 29 gennaio 1293, in Atti della R. Accademia dei Lincei, ser. 3, XI (1883), 423–44. Amitai-Preiss, R., An exchange of letters in Arabic between Abaγa Īlkhān and Sultan Baybars (A.H.667/A.D.1268–69), in CAJ 38 (1994), 11–33. Anas Mursī, A.M., Kutub al-dasātīr fī ʿaṣr al-Mamālīk (658–923 h.) (1256–1517 m.) maʿa taḥqīq wa-dirāsat makhṭūṭ al-Khālidī (al-Maqṣid al-rafīʿ al-munshā al-hādī li-dīwān al-inshāʾ), PhD dissertation, Jāmiʿat al-Manṣūra 2004.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

89

Arbel, B., Levantine power struggles in an unpublished Mamluk letter of 877AH/ 1473CE, in MHR 7 (1992), 92–100. Archival knowledge cultures in Europe, 1400–1900, special issue of Archival Science 10/3 (September 2010). Archival transformations in Early Modern Europe, special issue of European History Quaterly 46/3 (July 2016). Atanasiu, V., De la fréquence des lettres et de son influence en calligraphie arabe, Paris and Montréal 1999. Atanasiu, V., Le Phénomène calligraphique à l’époque du sultanat mamluk: MoyenOrient, XIIIe–XVIe siècle, PhD dissertation, École Pratique des Hautes-Études, Paris 2003. Atiya, A.S., Egypt and Aragon: Embassies and diplomatic correspondence between 1300 and 1330A.D., Leipzig 1938. Atiya, A.S., Mamlūk correspondence with Aragon in the XIVth Century, ZDMG 91 (1937), p. *19*. Bajraktarević, F., Die arabischen Urkunden des Staatsarchivs von Dubrovnik (Ragusa), in Der Islam 33 (1958), 135–41. Banister, M., The Abbasid caliphate of Cairo (1261–1517): History and tradition in the Mamluk Court, PhD dissertation, Universiyt of Toronto 2015. al-Baqlī, M., Fahāris Kitāb Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā fī ṣināʿat al-inshāʾ lil-Qalqashandī, Cairo 1972. al-Bāshā, Ḥ., al-Alqāb al-islāmiyya fī l-tārīkh wa-l-wāthāʾiq wa-l-āthār, Cairo 1957 (repr. 1989). Bauden, F., L’Achat d’esclaves et la rédemption des captifs à Alexandrie d’après deux documents arabes d’époque mamelouke conservés aux Archives de l’État à Venise (ASVe), in A.-M. Eddé and E. Ganagé (eds.), Regards croisés sur le Moyen Âge arabe. Mélanges à la mémoire de Louis Pouzet s.j. (1928–2002), Beirut 2005, 269–325. Bauden, F., A note on the production of recycled paper in the Mamluk period (forthcoming). Bauden, F., Du destin des archives en Islam. Analyse des données et éléments de réponse, in D. Aigle and S. Péquignot (eds.), La Correspondance entre souverains, princes et cités-états: Approches croisées entre l’Orient musulman, l’Occident et Byzance (XIIIe–début XVIe siècle), Turnhout 2013, 27–49. Bauden, F., Due trattati di pace conclusi nel dodicesimo secolo tra i Banū Ġāniya, signori delle isole Baleari, e il comune di Genova, in N. Martínez de Castilla (ed.), Documentos y manuscritos árabes del Occidente musulman medieval, Madrid 2010, 33–86. Bauden, F., Ikhwāniyyāt letters in the Mamluk period: A document (muṭālaʿa) issued by al-Muʾayyad Shaykh’s chancery and a contribution to Mamluk diplomatics, in A. Levanoni (ed.), Egypt and Syria under Mamluk rule: Political, social and cultural aspects, Leiden and Boston (forthcoming).

90

bauden

Bauden, F., Les Relations diplomatiques entre les sultans mamlouks circassiens et les autres pouvoirs du Dār al-islām. L’apport du ms. ar. 4440 (BNF, Paris), in AI 41 (2007), 1–29. Bauden, F., Le Transport de marchandises et de personnes sur le Nil en 823A.H./1420 È.C., in A.T. Schubert and P.M. Sijpesteijn, Documents and the history of the early Islamic world, Leiden and Boston 2015, 100–29. Bauden, F., Like father, like son: The chancery manual (Qalā’id al-Jumān) of al-Qalqašandī’s son and its value for the study of Mamluk diplomatics (ninth/fifteenth century) (Studia Diplomatica Islamica, I), in ES XI/1–2 (2013), 181–228. Bauden, F., Lists of gifts in the Mamluk diplomatic tradition, in F. Bauden (ed.), Culture matérielle et contacts diplomatiques entre l’Occident latin, Byzance et l’Orient islamique (XIe–XVIe siècle), Leiden and Boston (forthcoming). Bauden, F., The Mamluk documents of the Venetian State Archives: Handlist, in QSA 20–1 (2002), 147–56. Bauden, F., Mamluk era documentary studies: The state of the art, in MSR IX (2005), 15–60. Bauden, F., Maqriziana II: Discovery of an autograph manuscript of al-Maqrīzī: Towards a better understanding of his working method, Analysis, in MSR XII/1 (2008), 51– 118. Bauden, F., Maqriziana XIII: An exchange of correspondence between al-Maqrīzī and al-Qalqashandī, in Y. Ben-Bassat (ed.), Developing perspectives in Mamluk history: Essays in honor of Amalia Levanoni, Leiden and Boston 2017, 201–29. Bauden, F., Paper formats of the Mamluk period: The contribution of Mamluk chancery paper (forthcoming). Bauden, F., The recovery of Mamlūk chancery documents in an unsuspected place, in M. Winter and A. Levanoni (eds.), The Mamluks in Egyptian and Syrian politics and society, Leiden and Boston 2004, 59–76. Bauden, F., Yemeni-Egyptian diplomatic exchanges about the Meccan Sharifate in the light of a reconstructed Rasulid letter addressed to al-Muʾayyad Shaykh in 817/1415, in F. Bauden (ed.), The Mamluk sultanate and its periphery, Leiden and Boston (forthcoming). Bausi, A., C. Brockmann, M. Friedrich, and S. Kienitz (eds.), Manuscripts and archives: Comparative views on record-keeping, Berlin 2018. Behrens-Abouseif, D., Practising diplomacy in the Mamluk sultanate: Gifts and material culture in the medieval Islamic world, London 2014. Beihammer, A., Byzantinische Diplomatik: dead or alive?, in E. Jeffreys (ed.), Proceedings of the 21st International Congress of Byzantine Studies, London 21–26 August 2006, vol. 1: Plenary Papers, Aldershot 2006, 173–87. Beihammer, A., M. Parani, and C. Schabel (eds.), Diplomatics in the Eastern Mediterranean, 1000–1500: Aspects of cross-cultural communication, Leiden and Boston 2008.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

91

Belgrano, L.T., Trattato del Sultano d’Egitto col comune di Genova nel MCCLXXXX, in Atti della Società Ligure di Storia Patria 19 (1888), 161–75. Björkman, W., Beiträge zur Geschichte der Staatskanzlei im islamischen Ägypten, Hamburg 1928. Björkman, W., Die frühesten türkisch-ägyptischen Beziehungen im 14. Jahrhundert, in 60. doğum yılı münasebetiyle Fuad Köprülü armağanı (Mélanges Fuad Köprülü), Istanbul 1953, 57–63. Björkman, W., Diplomatic, in EI2 iii, 301–7. Blair, A., Introduction, in Archival Science 10 (2010), 195–200. Blair, S.S., Islamic calligraphy, Edinburgh 2006. Bougard, F., Mise en écriture et production documentaire en Occident, in L’Autorité de l’écrit au Moyen Âge (Orient-Occident): XXXIXe Congrès de la SHMESP (Le Caire, 30 avril–5 mai 2008), Paris 2009, 13–20. Bravmann, M.M., The state archives in the early Islamic era, in Arabica 15 (1968), 87–9. Brinner, W.M., Some Ayyūbid and Mamlūk documents from non-archival sources, in IOS II (1972), 117–43. Broadbridge, A.F., Diplomatic conventions in the Mamluk sultanate, in AI 41 (2007), 97–118. Broadbridge, A.F., Kingship and ideology in the Islamic and Mongol world, Cambridge 2008. Brockelmann, C., Geschichte der arabischen Litteratur, 2 vols. + 3 vols. of supplements, Weimar and Leiden 1898–1943. Buresi, P., Les Plaintes de l’archevêque: chronique des premiers échanges épistolaires entre Pise et le gouverneur almohade de Tunis (1182), in N. Martínez de Castilla (ed.), Documentos y manuscritos árabes del Occidente musulman medieval, Madrid 2010, 87–120. Buresi, P., Traduttore traditore: à propos d’une correspondance entre l’Empire almohade et la cité de Pise (début XIIIe siècle), in D. Aigle and P. Buresi (eds.), Les Relations diplomatiques entre le monde musulman et l’occident latin (XIIe–XVIe siècle), Oriente moderno LXXXVI/1 (2008), Rome 2008, 297–309. Buresi, P., T. Bruce, and M. Ghouirgate, Les Usages linguistiques dans les relations entre Almohades et Pisans (début du XIIIe siècle), in D. Couto and St. Péquignot (eds.), Les Langues de la négociation: approches historiennes, Rennes 2017, 63– 76. Camarigo, M., Ars dictaminis, ars dictandi, Turnhout 1991. Canard, M., Le Traité de 1281 entre Michel Paléologue et le Sultan Qalā’ūn, in Byzantion 10 (1935), 669–80. Canard, M., Les Relations entre les Mérinides et les Mamelouks au XIVe siècle, in AIÉOA 5 (1941), 41–81. Canard, M., Un traité entre Byzance et l’Égypte au XIIIe siècle et les relations diploma-

92

bauden

tiques de Michel VIII Paléologue avec les Sultans Mamlûks Baibars et Qalā’ûn, in Mélanges Gaudefroy-Demombynes 1935–45, 197–224. Canard, M., Une lettre du Sultan Malik Nâṣir Ḥasan à Jean VI Cantacuzène (750/1349), in AIÉOA III (1937), 27–52. Cárcel Ortí, M.M. (ed.), Vocabulaire international de la diplomatique, Valencia 1997. Charrière, E., Négociations de la France dans le Levant, 4 vols., Paris 1848–60. Colin, G.S., Contribution à l’étude des relations diplomatiques entre les musulmans d’Occident et l’Égypte au XVe siècle, in Mélanges Maspero, vol. III: Orient islamique, Cairo 1935, 197–206. Darrāj, A., Les Documents arabes sur l’Égypte islamique dans les archives européennes, in Colloque international sur l’histoire du Caire/al-Nadwa al-duwaliyya li-taʾrīkh alQāhira, Cairo 27 March–5 April 1969, Cairo (1969?), 131. Darrāj, A., Risālatān bayn sulṭān Mālwa wa-l-Ashraf Qāytbāy, in Majallat Maʿhad alMakhṭūṭāt al-ʿArabiyya/Revue de l’Institut des Manuscrits Arabes 4 (1958), 97–123. de Bofarull y Mascaré, P., Colección de documentos inéditos del Archivo general de la Corona de Aragón, vol. 6, Barcelona 1850. de Capmany y de Monpalau, A., Antiguos tratados de paces y alianzas entre algunos reyes de Aragón y diferentes príncipes infieles de Asia y Africa desde el siglo XIII hasta el XV. Copiados con órden de S.M. de los originales Registros del Real y General Archivo de la Corona de Aragon, Madrid 1786. de Capmany y de Monpalau, A., Memorias historicas sobre la marina, comercio y artes de la antigua ciudad de Barcelona, rev. edition by E. Giralt y Raventós and C. Batlle y Gallart, 2 vols. in 3, Barcelona 1961–3 (orig. pub. Madrid 1779). Dekkiche, M., Correspondence between Mamluks and Timurids in the fifteenth century: An unpublished corpus of official letters (BnF, MS Ar. 4440), in ES XI/1–2 (2013), 131–60. Dekkiche, M., Crossing the line: Mamluk response to Qaramanid threat in the fifteenth century according to MS ar. 4440 (BnF, Paris), in BSOAS 80/2 (2017), 253–81. Dekkiche, M., Le Caire, carrefour des ambassades. Étude historique et diplomatique de la correspondance échangée entre les sultans mamlouks circassiens et les souverains timourides et turcomans (Qara Qoyunlu—Qaramanides) au XVe s. d’après le ms. ar. 4440 (BnF, Paris), 2 vols., PhD dissertation, University of Liège 2011. Dekkiche, M., New source, new debate: Re-evaluation of the Mamluk-Timurid struggle for religious supremacy in the Hijaz (Paris, BnF, MS ar. 4440), in MSR XVIII (2014), 247–71. Dekkiche, M., The letter and its response: The exchanges between the Qara Qoyunlu and the Mamluk Sultan: MS Arabe 4440 (BnF, Paris), in Arabica 63 (2016), 579– 626. Delsalle, P., A history of archival practice, trans. and ed. M. Proctor New York 2017 (first pub. in French, Une histoire de l’archivistique, Sainte-Foy 1998).

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

93

de Mas Latrie, L., Histoire de l’île de Chypre sous le règne des princes de la maison de Lusignan, 3 vols., Paris 1861–5. de Mas Latrie, L., Traités de paix et de commerce et documents divers concernant les relations des Chrétiens avec les Arabes de l’Afrique septentrionale au Moyen Âge, 3 vols., Paris 1865–72. de Vivo, F., A. Guidi, and A. Silverstri, Archival transformations in early modern European history, in European History Quarterly 46/3 (2016), 421–34. Dölger, F., Der Vertrag des Sultans Qalā’ūn von Ägypten mit dem Kaiser Michael VIII. Palaiologos (1281), in Dölger, Byzantinische Diplomatik, Ettal 1956, 225–44. Dölger, F., Der Vertrag des Sultans Qalā’ūn von Ägypten mit dem Kaiser Michael VIII. Palaiologos (1281), in H.J. Kissling and A. Schmaus (eds.), Serta Monacensia: Franz Babinger zum 15. Januar 1951 asl Festgruss dargebracht, Leiden 1952, 60–79. Dover, P.M., Deciphering the diplomatic archives of fifteenth-century Italy, in Archival Science 7 (2007), 297–316. al-Durūbī, S.M., Aṣnāf al-tarājima fī dīwān al-inshāʾ al-mamlūkī, in Majallat Majmaʿ alLugha al-ʿArabiyya al-Urdunnī 27 (2003), 11–43. al-Durūbī, S.M., Ḥarakat al-tarjama wa-l-taʿrīb fī dīwān al-inshāʾ al-mamlūkī (albawāʿith wa-l-lughāt wa-l-mutarjamāt), in Majallat Majmaʿ al-Lugha al-ʿArabiyya alUrdunnī 26 (2002), 11–72. al-Durūbī, S.M., Muqaddima fī dirāsat al-tarjama wa-l-tarājima fī dīwān al-inshāʾ almamlūkī, Amman 2008. Edhem, H., Mısır Fethi Mukaddematına Aid Mühim Bir Vesika, in Türk Tarih Encümeni Mecmuası XVII/19 (1928), 30–6. El-Leithy, T., Living documents, dying archives: Towards a historical anthropology of medieval Arabic archives, in al-Qanṭara 32 (2011), 389–434. El-Nashar, M.M.A., La Lettre du sultan Jakmak à la municipalité de Barcelone (Shawwāl 842/mars 1439), in L’Autorité de l’écrit au Moyen Âge (Orient-Occident): XXXIXe Congrès de la SHMESP (Le Caire, 30 avril–5 mai 2008), Paris 2009, 107–14. El Perfume de la amistad: Correspondencia diplomática árabe en archivos españoles (siglos XIII–XVII), Madrid 2009. Escovitz, J.H., Vocational patterns of the scribes of the Mamlūk chancery, in Arabica 23 (1976), 42–62. Eychenne, M., Liens personnels, clientélisme et réseaux de pouvoir dans le sultanat mamelouk (milieu XIIIe–fin XIVe siècle), Damascus and Beirut 2013. Fagnan, E., Catalogue général des manuscrits des bibliothèques publiques de France. Départements. Tome XVIII: Alger, Paris 1893. Favereau, M. (ed.), Les Conventions diplomatiques dans le monde musulman: L’ Umma en partage (1258–1517), in AI XLI (2007), Cairo 2007. Filippov, I., and F. Sabaté (eds.), Identity and loss of historical memory: The destruction of archives, Bern 2017.

94

bauden

Finke, H., Acta Aragonensia: Quellen zur deutschen, italienische, französischen, spanischen, zur Kirchen- und Kulturgeschichte aus der diplomatischen Korrespondenz Jaymes II. (1291–1327), 2 vols., Berlin and Leipzig 1908. Frantz-Murphy, G., Identity and security in the Mediterranean world ca. AD640– ca. 1517, in T. Gagos and A. Hyatt (eds.), Proceedings of the 25th International Congress of Papyrology, Ann Arbor, July 29–August 4, 2007, Ann Arbor 2010, 253–64. Friedrich, M., Die Geburt des Archivs: Eine Wissensgeschichte, Munich 2013. Friedrich, M., Epilogue: Archives and archiving across cultures—Towards a matrix of analysis, in in A. Bausi, C. Brockmann, M. Friedrich, and S. Kienitz (eds.), Manuscripts and archives: Comparative views on record-keeping, Berlin 2018, 421–45. Gabrieli, F., Trattato di Qalawūn [sic] coi Templari di Tortosa, in Gabrieli (ed.), Storici arabi delle Crociate, Turin 1957, 305–12, 314–21. Gacek, A., Arabic scripts and their characteristics as seen through the eyes of Mamluk authors, in MME 4 (1989), 144–9. Gazagnadou, D., Remarques sur le problème de l’origine d’une pratique des chancelleries mamlūkes: la Ṭurra, in SI 64 (1986), 160–4. Gilliland, A., Afterword: in and out of the archives, in Archival Science 10 (2010), 333–43. Golubovich, G. Biblioteca bio-bibliografica della Terra Santa e dell’Oriente francescano, 5 vols., Florence 1906–27. Gonzalez Maurazos, G., La documentacion diplómatica entre la Corona de Aragón y el Sultanato Mameluco durante el reinado de Jaime II: Un ejemplo de las transformaciones en las relaciones internacionales del ámbito mediterráneo en la Baja Edad Media, in Revista de Historia Medieval: Anales de la Universidad de Alicante 11 (1996– 7), 395–403. Grévin, B., Documents diplomatiques, diffusion des savoirs rhétoriques et problèmes d’interprétation des versions latines de correspondances réelles ou fictives avec les souverains d’Orient (XIIIe–début XIVe siècle), in D. Aigle and St. Péquignot (eds.), La Correspondance entre souverains, princes et cités-états: Approches croisées entre l’Orient musulman, l’Occident et Byzance (XIIIe–début XVIe siècle), Paris 2013, 51–75. Grévin, B., Entre inšāʾ et dictamen: propositions pour un comparatisme des écritures solennelles du monde musulman et du monde latin médiéval (XIe–XVe s.), in N. Martínez de Castilla (ed.), Documentos y manuscritos árabes del Occidente musulman medieval, Madrid 2010, 121–40. Grévin, B., La Trame et la chaîne: remarques conclusives sur les rapports entre analyse textuelle et histoire diplomatique du monde musulman, in D. Aigle and P. Buresi (eds.), Les Relations diplomatiques entre le monde musulman et l’occident latin (XIIe– XVIe siècle), Oriente moderno LXXXVI/1 (2008), Rome 2008, 523–33. Grévin, B., Rhétorique du pouvoir médiéval: les « Lettres » de Pierre de la Vigne et la formation du langage politique européen (XIIIe–XVe siècle), Rome 2008. Gully, A., The culture of letter-writing in pre-modern Islamic society, Edinburgh 2008.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

95

Guyotjeannin, O., The expansion of diplomatics as a discipline, in American Archivist 59 (Fall 1996), 414–21. Guyotjeannin, O., J. Pycke, and B.-M. Tock, Diplomatique médiévale, Turnhout 2006. Ḥabīb Efendi, Hatt ve-hattâtîn, Istanbul 1305[/ 1887–8]. al-Ḥājjī, Ḥ.N., al-ʿAlāqāt bayn salṭanat al-Mamālīk wa-l-mamālik al-isbāniyya fī l-qarnayn al-thāmin wa-l-tāsiʿ al-hijrī/al-rābiʿ wa-l-khāmis ʿashar al-mīlādī: dirāsa wathāʾiqiyya / The relations between the Mamluk sultanate and the Spanish Kindoms [sic] during the A.H.8–9/A.D.14–15 centuries, Kuwait 1980. Hanaway, W.L., Secretaries, poets, and the literary language, in B. Spooner and W.L. Hanaway (eds.), Literacy in the Persianate world: Writing and the social order, Philadelphia 2012, 95–142. Hartmann, M., Das Privileg Selims I für die Venezianer von 1517, in Orientalistische Studien. Fritz Hommel zum sechzigsten Geburtstag, Leipzig 1918, 201–22. Hartmann, M., Die Islamisch-Fränkischen Staatsverträgen (Kapitulationen), in Zeitschrift für Politik 11 (1919), 1–64. Head, R.C., Spaces in the archive, spaces of the archive: Material, topographical, and indexical articulations of space in early modern chancery collections, in K. Friedrich (ed.), Die Erschließung des Raumes: Konstruktion, Imagination und Darstellung von Räumen und Grenzen im Barockzeitalter, 2 vols., Wiesbaden 2014, ii, 505–19. Hein, H.-A., Beiträge zur ayyubidischen Diplomatik, Freiburg im Brisgau 1971. Hinds, M., and H. Sakkout, A letter from the governor of Egypt to the king of Nubia and Muqurra concerning Egyptian-Nubian relations in 141/758, in W. al-Qāḍī (ed.), Studia Arabica et Islamica: Festschrift for Iḥsān ʿAbbās on His Sixtieth Brithday/Dirāsāt ʿarabiyya wa-islāmiyya muhdāt ilā Iḥsān ʿAbbās, Beirut 1981, 209–29. Hirschler, K., Document reuse in medieval Arabic manuscripts, in COMSt Bulletin 3/1 (2017), 33–44. Hirschler, K., From Archive to archival practices: Rethinking the preservation of Mamluk administrative documents, in JAOS 136/1 (2016), 1–28. Holt, P.M., Al-Nāṣir Muḥammad’s letter to a Spanish ruler in 699/1300, in al-Masāq 3 (1990), 23–9. Holt, P.M., Early Mamluk diplomacy (1260–1290): Treaties of Baybars and Qalāwūn with Christian rulers, Leiden, New York and Cologne 1995. Holt, P.M., The Mamluk sultanate and Aragon: the treaties of 689/1290 and 692/1293, in Tārīḫ 2 (1992), 105–18. Holt, P.M., Some observations on the ‘Abbāsid caliphate of Cairo, in BSOAS 47 (1984), 501–7. Holt, P.M., The treaties of the early Mamluk sultans with the Frankish states, in BSOAS 43 (1980), 67–76. Holt, P.M., Treaties between the Mamluk sultans and the Frankish authorities, in W. Voigt (ed.), XIX. Deutscher Orientalistentag, Supplement III, Wiesbaden 1977, 474– 84.

96

bauden

Horniker, A.L., Ottoman-Turkish diplomatics: A guide to the literature, in Balkan Studies 7 (1966), 135–54. Hours, F., Fraude commerciale et politique internationale: les relations entre l’Égypte et Venise d’après une lettre de Qayt Bay (1472–1473), in BÉO 25 (1972), 173–83. Humbert, G., Le Manuscrit arabe et ses papiers, in REMMM 99–100 (2002), 55–77. Humbert, G., Papiers non filigranés utilisés au Proche-Orient jusqu’en 1450. Essai de typologie, in JA 286 (1998), 1–54. Humbert, G., Un papier fabriqué vers 1350 en Égypte, in M. Zerdoun Bat-Yehouda (ed.), Le Papier au Moyen Âge: Histoire et techniques, Turnhout 1999, 61–73. Imamuddin, S., Diwān [sic] al-inshā (Chancery in Later Medieval Egypt), (with special reference to Later Fatimid, Ayyubid and Mamluk decrees dated 528–894 H/1134– 1489 A.C.), in Journal of the Pakistan Historical Society 28 (1980), 63–77. Iskandar, T., Documents inédits relatifs à l’histoire d’Égypte conservés aux archives de Venise. Première série: Les Traités, 1: La Mission de Piero Diedo et la cession de Chypre, 1490 = Taʾrīkh Miṣr fī maḥfūẓāt al-Bunduqiyya: wathāʾiq ghayr manshūra. Al-Silsila al-ūlā: al-muʿāhadāt. 1: Sifārat Biyīrū Diyīdū wa-muʿāhadāt tanāzul Miṣr ʿan Qubruṣ 1490, Cairo 1956. Iskandar, T., Les Relations commerciales et politiques de Venise avec l’Égypte aux XIVe et XVe siècles, PhD dissertation, École des Chartes, Paris 1953. ʿIzz al-Dīn, M.K. al.-D., Abū l-ʿAbbās al-Qalqashandī muʾarrikhan, Beirut 1990. Jahdani, A., À propos d’un traité mamelouk de calligraphie, in F. Déroche and F. Richard (eds.), Scripts, page settings and bindings of Middle-Eastern manuscripts: Papers of the Third International Conference on Codicology and Paleography of Middle-Eastern Manuscripts (Bologna, 4–6 October, 2000), Part 2, St. Petersburg 2003, 61–4. Juvin, C., Recherches sur la calligraphie sous les derniers Mamlouks: inscriptions monumentales et mobilières, PhD dissertation, École Pratique des Hautes-Études, Paris 2017. Kafesoğlu, İ., Kalkaşandî’nin bilinmeyen bir eseri Meâsirü’l-İnâfe, in Tarih Dergisi VIII (1956), 99–104. Kaḥḥāla, ʿU.R., Muʿjam al-muʾallifīn: tarājim muṣannifī al-kutub al-ʿarabiyya, 4 vols., Beirut 1993. Karabulut, A.R., and A.T. Karabulut, Dünya Kütüphanelerinde Mevcut İslâm Kültür Tarihi ile İlgili Eserler Ansiklopedisi [= Muʿjam taʾrīkh al-turāth al-islāmī fī maktabāt alʿālam (al-makhṭūṭāt wa-l-maṭbūʿāt)], 6 vols., Kayseri 2006. Keçik, M.Ş., Briefe und Urkunden aus der Kanzlei Uzun Ḥasans: Ein Beitrag zur Geschichte Ost-Anatoliens im 15. Jahrhundert, Hamburg 1974. Kerslake, C.J., The correspondence between Selim I and Ḳānṣūh al-Ġawrī, in Prilozi za orijentalnu filologiju [Revue de philologie orientale] 30 (1980), 219–34. Khan, G., A copy of a decree from the archives of the Fāṭimid chancery in Egypt, in BSOAS (1986), 439–53.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

97

al-Khūlī, J., Mudākhālāt fī ʿilm al-diblūmātīk al-ʿarabī, Alexandria 2000. Köhler, M.A., Alliances and treaties between Frankish and Muslim rulers in the Middle East: Cross-cultural diplomacy in the period of the crusades, trans. P.M. Holt, ed. K. Hirschler, Leiden and Boston 2013. Korkut, B., Arapski dokumenti u državnom arhivu u Dubrovniku. Knjiga I, sveska 3: Osnivanje Dubrovačkog Konsulata u Aleksandriji, Sarajevo 1969. Korobeinikov, D.A., Diplomatic correspondence between Byzantium and the Mamlūk sultanate in the fourteenth century, in al-Masāq 16 (2004), 53–74. Krekić, B., Dubrovnik (Raguse) et le Levant au Moyen Âge, The Hague 1961. Labib, S., Ein Brief des Mamluken Sultans Qā’itbey an den Dogen von Venedig aus dem Jahre 1473, in Der Islam 37 (1957), 324–29. La Mémoire perdue: à la recherche des archives oubliées, publiques et privées, de la Rome antique, Paris 1994. Lammens, H., Correspondances diplomatiques entre les sultans mamlouks d’Égypte et les puissances chrétiennes, in ROC 9 (1904), 151–87 and 359–92. Lammens, H., Relations officielles entre la Cour romaine et les sultans mamlouks d’Égypte, in ROC (1903), 101–10. Langlois, V., Le Trésor des chartes d’Arménie ou cartulaire de la chancellerie royale des Roupéniens, Venice 1863. L’Autorité de l’écrit au Moyen Âge (Orient-Occident): XXXIXe Congrès de la SHMESP (Le Caire, 30 avril–5 mai 2008), Paris 2009. Lazzarini, I., Écrire à l’autre: Contacts, réseaux et codes de communication entre les cours italiennes, Byzance et le monde musulman aux XIVe et XVe siècles, in D. Aigle and S. Péquignot (eds.), La Correspondance entre souverains, princes et cités-états: Approches croisées entre l’Orient musulman, l’Occident et Byzance (XIIIe–début XVIe siècle), Turnhout 2013, 165–94. Le Jan, R., Les Relations diplomatiques pendant le premier Moyen Âge (VIe–XIe siècle), in Les Relations diplomatiques au Moyen Âge: formes et enjeux. XLIe Congrès de la SHMESP (Lyon, 3–6 juin 2010), Paris 2011, 13–30. Loiseau, J., Le Silence des archives: conservation documentaire et historiographie de l’État dans le sultanat mamelouk (XIIIe–XVIe siècle), in L’Autorité de l’écrit au Moyen Âge (Orient-Occident): XXXIXe Congrès de la SHMESP (Le Caire, 30 avril–5 mai 2008), Paris 2009, 285–98. López de Meneses, A., Los consulados catalanes de Alejandría y Damasco en el reinado de Pedro el Ceremonioso, in Estudios de la Edad Media de la Corona de Aragón VI (1953), 83–183. López de Meneses, A., Correspondencia de Pedro el Ceremonioso con la soldania de Babilonia, in Cuadernos de Historia de España XXIX–XXX (1959), 293–337. López de Meneses, A., Florilegio documental del reinado de Pedro IV de Aragon, in Cuadernos de Historia de España 14 (1950), 183–97.

98

bauden

López de Meneses, A., Pedro el Ceremonosio y las reliquias de Santa Bárbara, in Estudios de la Edad Media de la Corona de Aragón VII (1962), 299–357. Macler, F., Une lettre royale de sauvegarde chez les Infidèles, in Revue de l’histoire des religions 105 (1932), 85–97. Makkī, al-Ṭ.A., Muʿāhada tijāriyya min al-qarn al-khāmis ʿashar bayna sulṭān Miṣr wamalik Araghūn, in al-Majalla: Sijill al-Thaqāfa al-Rafīʿa (Cairo) 45 (1960), 48–59; 49 (1961), 83–93. Manṣūr, ʿA. al.-Ḥ., Fihris makhṭūṭāt al-Maktaba al-Aḥmadiyya fī Tūnis (Khizānat Jāmiʿ al-Zaytūna), Beirut 1969. Marin, C.A., Storia civile e politica del commercio de’ Veneziani, 8 vols., Venice 1798–1808. Martel-Thoumian, B., Les Civils et l’administration dans l’état militaire mamlūk (IXe/XVe siècle), Damascus 1991. Martínez de Castilla, N. (ed.), Documentos y manuscritos árabes del Occidente musulman medieval, Madrid 2010. Martinez-Gros, G., Mise en écriture et production documentaire en Orient, in L’Autorité de l’écrit au Moyen Âge (Orient-Occident): XXXIXe Congrès de la SHMESP (Le Caire, 30 avril–5 mai 2008), Paris 2009, 21–4. Masiá de Ros, Á., La Corona de Aragón y los estados del Norte de África: Política de Jaime II y Alfonso IV en Egipto, Ifriquía y Tremecén, Barcelona 1951. McCrank, L.J., Documenting Reconquest and Reform: The growth of archives in the medieval Crown of Aragon, in American Archivist 56 (1993), 256–318. Meli, P., Firenze di fronte al mondo islamico. Documenti su due ambasciate (1487– 1489), in Annali di Storia di Firenze 4 (2009), 243–73. Melvin-Koushki, M., The delicate art of aggression: Uzun Hasan’s Fathnama to Qaytbay of 1469, in Iranian Studies 44/2 (2011), 193–214. Mitchell, C.P., Safavid imperial tarassul and the Persian inshāʾ tradition, in SIr 26 (1997), 173–209. Mitchell, C.P., The practice of politics in Safavid Iran: Power, religion, and rhetoric, London and New York 2009. Moeglin, J.-M., « Performative Turn », « Communication politique » et rituels au Moyen Âge: à propos de deux ouvrages récents, in Le Moyen Âge CXIII/2 (2007), 393–406. Moeglin, J.-M. and S. Péquignot, Diplomatie et « relations internationales » au Moyen Âge (IXe–XVe siècle), Paris 2017. Morelle, L., Usages et gestion de l’écrit documentaire (Occident, VIe–XIIe siècle): quelques considérations sur l’acte écrit, in L’Autorité de l’écrit au Moyen Âge (OrientOccident): XXXIXe Congrès de la SHMESP (Le Caire, 30 avril–5 mai 2008), Paris 2009, 117–26. Morgan, D., Persian as a lingua franca in the Mongol Empire, in B. Spooner and W.L. Hanaway (eds.), Literacy in the Persianate world: Writing and the social order, Philadelphia 2012, 160–70.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

99

Moritz, B., Ein Firman des Sultans Selim I für die Venezianer vom Jahre 1517, in G. Weil (ed.), Festschrift Eduard Sachau zum siebzigsten Geburtstage gewidmet von Freunden und Schülern, Berlin 1915, 422–43. Muhanna, E.I., The sultan’s new clothes: Ottoman-Mamluk gift exchange in the fifteenth century, in Muqarnas 27 (2010), 189–207. Muhanna, E.I., The world in a book: al-Nuwayri and the Islamic encyclopedic tradition, Princeton 2018. Muhanna, E.I., Why was the fourteenth century a century of Arabic encyclopaedism?, in J. König and G. Woolf (eds.), Encyclopaedism from Antiquity to the Renaissance, Cambridge 2013, 343–56. Müller, C., Der Kadi und seine Zeugen: Studie der mamlukischen Ḥaram-Dokumente aus Jerusalem, Wiesbaden 2013. Müller, C., The Ḥaram al-Šarīf collection of Arabic legal documents in Jerusalem: A Mamlūk court archive?, in al-Qanṭara 32/2 (2011), 435–59. Nājī, H., Nuṣūṣ fī l-khaṭṭ al-ʿarabī, in al-Mawrid 15/4 (1986), 157–270. al-Nashshār, M.M.A., ʿAlāqat mamlakatay Qashtāla wa-Arājūn bi-salṭanat al-Mamālīk (1260–1341 M/658–741 H), al-Haram [Giza] 1997. Navāʾī, ʿAbd al-Ḥusayn, Asnād va-mukātabāt-i tārīkhī-i Īrān az Tīmūr tā Shāh Ismāʿīl, Tehran 1370 Sh/1991–2. Niederkorn, J.P., R. Kauz, and G. Rota (eds.), Diplomatisches Zeremoniell in Europa und im Mittleren Osten in der frühen Neuzeit, Vienna 2009. Nielsen, J.S., A note on the origin of the ṭurra in Early Mamlūk Chancery practice, in Der Islam 57 (1980), 288–92. Ouerfelli, M., Les Traités de paix et de commerce entre Pise et l’Égypte au Moyen Âge, in L’Autorité de l’écrit au Moyen Âge (Orient-Occident): XXXIXe Congrès de la SHMESP (Le Caire, 30 avril–5 mai 2008), Paris 2009, 45–57. Paoli, S., Codice diplomatico del sacro militare ordine gerosolimitano oggi di Malta, raccolto da vari documenti di quell’archivio, per servire alla storia dello stesso ordine in Soria e illustrato con una serie cronologica de’ gran maestri, che lo governarono in quei tempi, con alcune notizie storiche, genealogiche, geografiche, ed altre osservazioni, Lucca 1737. Paul, J., Archival practices in the Muslim world prior to 1500, in A. Bausi, C. Brockmann, M. Friedrich, and S. Kienitz (eds.), Manuscripts and archives: Comparative views on record-keeping, Berlin 2018, 339–60. Pedani, M.P., La dimora della pace: Considerazioni sulle capitolazioni tra i paesi islamici e l’Europa, Venice 1996. Pedani Fabris, M.P., Gli ultimi accordi tra i sultani mamelucchi d’Egitto e la Repubblica di Venezia, in QSA 12 (1994), 49–64. Péquignot, S., La Publication des documents des Archives de la Couronne d’Aragon (ca. 1840–ca. 1920), in I. Guyot-Bachy and J.-M. Moeglin (eds.), La Naissance de la

100

bauden

médiévistique. Les historiens et leurs sources en Europe (XIXe–début du XXe siècle). Actes du colloque de Nancy, 8–10 novembre 2012, Geneva 2015, 243–67. Péquignot, S., Les Diplomaties occidentales, XIIIe–XVe siècle, in Les Relations diplomatiques au Moyen Âge: formes et enjeux. XLIe Congrès de la SHMESP (Lyon, 3–6 juin 2010), Paris 2011, 47–66. Péquignot, S., ‘No hay nada’ ou ‘La Catalogne, source intarissable’? Réflexions sur une expérience de recherche entre abondance et absence d’archives, in L’Absence de texte, CHETL, 4 Paris 2011, 66–99. Picard, C., De l’usage de l’écrit documentaire en Islam, in L’Autorité de l’écrit au Moyen Âge (Orient-Occident): XXXIXe Congrès de la SHMESP (Le Caire, 30 avril–5 mai 2008), Paris 2009, 127–41. Plumley, J.M., An eighth century Arabic letter to the King of Nubia, in Journal of Egyptian Archaeology 61 (1975), 241–5. Posner, E., Archives in medieval Islam, in American Archivist July/October (1972), 291– 315. Potthast, D., Mamlūk diplomatic letters in the context of Arabic epistolography, in F. Bauden (ed.), Culture matérielle et contacts diplomatiques entre l’Occident latin, Byzance et l’Orient islamique (XIe–XVIe siècle), Leiden and Boston, forthcoming. Potthast, D., Translations of Arabic diplomatic letters in the Aragonese chancery, in P. Schrijver and P.-A. Mumm (eds.), Dasselbe mit anderen Worten? Sprache, Übersetzung und Sprachwissenschaft: Akten des 2. Symposiums des Zentrums historische Sprachwissenschaften (ZhS), München, 11. und 12. April 2014, Bremen 2015, 166–86. Qurqūt, B., al-Wathāʾiq al-ʿarabiyya fī Dār al-Maḥfūẓāt bi-Madīnat Dūbrūfnīk, Cairo 2008. Regourd, A. (ed.), Documents et histoire, Islam, VIIe–XVIe siècle. Actes des premières Journées d’étude internationales, École pratique des hautes études, IVe section, musée du Louvre, département des Arts de l’Islam, Paris, 16 et 17 mai 2008, Geneva 2013. Reinaud, J.T., Traités de commerce entre la République de Venise et les derniers sultans mameloucs d’Égypte (traduits de l’italien, et accompagnés d’éclaircissements), in JA 4 (1829), 22–51. Reinfandt, L., Mamlūk documentary studies, in S. Conermann (ed.), Ubi sumus? Quo vademus? Mamluk studies: State of the art, Göttingen and Bonn 2013, 285–309. Rey, F., La Protection diplomatique et consulaire dans les échelles du Levant et de Barbarie, Paris 1899. Reychman, J. and A. Zajączkowski, Handbook of Ottoman-Turkish diplomatics, trans. A.S. Ehrenkreutz, ed. T. Haąlasi-Kun, The Hague and Paris 1968. Ribera, J., Manuscritos arábigos en el Archivo General de la Corona de Aragón, in Boletín de la Real Academia de la Historia 42 (1903), 278–281. Richards, D.S., A Mamlūk Emir’s ‘Square’ Decree, in BSOAS 54 (1991), 63–7. Rizzo, A., Le Lys et le Lion: Diplomatie et échanges entre Florence et le sultanat mamelouk

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

101

(début XVe–début XVIe s.), 3 vols., PhD dissertation, University of Liège and AixMarseille Université 2017. Rodinson, M., La Continuité du concept d’archives du monde gréco-romain au monde musulman, in J. Berque, D. Chevalier, and M. Rodinson, Les Arabes par leurs archives: XVIe–XXe siècles, Paris 1976. Roemer, H.R., Arabische Herrscherurkunden aus Ägypten, in OLZ 61 (1966), 325–44. Roemer, H.R., Ins̲h̲āʾ, in EI2 iii, 1241–4. Roemer, H.R., Staatsschreiben der Timuridenzeit. Das Šaraf-nāmä des ʿAbdallāh Marwārīd in kritischer Auswertung, Wiesbaden 1952. Roncaglia, M.P., Essai bibliographique de diplomatique islamique (arabe-persaneottomane), Beirut 1979. Rossi, F., Ambasciata straordinaria al sultano d’Egitto (1489–1490), Venice 1988. Rubió y Lluch, A., Diplomatari de l’Orient català (1301–1409): Coŀlecció de documents per a la història de l’expedició catalana a Orient i dels Ducats d’Atenes i Neopàtria, Barcelona 1947. Ruiz Orsatti, R., Tratado de paz entre Alfonso V de Aragón y el sultán de Egipto, al-Malik al-Asraf Barsbay, in Al-Andalus 4 (1939), 333–89. Silvestre de Sacy, A.-I., Extrait de la vie du sultan Almélic Almansour Kélaoun; manuscrit arabe du fonds de Saint-Germain-des-Prés, n° 118bis; pour servir de suite à la notice des Manuscrits laissés par dom Berthereau, in Le Magasin encyclopédique 2 (1801), 145–61. Silvestre de Sacy, A.-I., Lettre du Sultan Mélic-alaschraf Barsébaï, à Mirza Scharokh, fils de Timour, in Silvestre de Sacy, Chrestomathie arabe, 2 vols., Paris 1826 (repr. Osnabrück 1973), ii, 71–87 (French), 11–17 (Arabic). Silvestre de Sacy, A.-I., Pièces diplomatiques tirées des archives de la République de Gênes, in Notices et extraits des manuscrits de la Bibliothèque du roi, et autres bibliothèques XI (1827), 1–96. Spooner, B., and W.L. Hanaway (eds.), Literacy in the Persianate world: Writing and the social order, Philadelphia 2012. Stern, S.M. (ed.), Documents from Islamic chanceries, Oxford 1965. Stern, S.M., Petitions from the Mamlūk Period (Notes on the Mamlūk Documents from Sinai), in BSOAS 29 (1966), 233–76. Stewart, D.J., Ibn Ḥijjah al-Ḥamawī, in J.E. Lowry and Stewart, Essays in Arabic literary biography, 1350–1850, Wiesbaden 2009, 137–47. Storey, C.A., Persian literature: A bio-bibliographical survey. Vol. III, part 2: D. Rhetoric, riddles and chronograms, E. Ornate prose, Oxford 1990 Tafel, G.L.F., and G.M. Thomas, Urkunden zur älteren Handels- und Staatsgeschichte der Republik Venedig mit besonderer Beziehung auf Byzanz und die Levante vom neunten bis zum Ausgang des fünfzehnten Jahrhunderts, 3 vols., Vienna 1856–7. Tanase, T., Les Mongols et le monde dans les registres de la papauté au XIIIe siècle:

102

bauden

l’écriture d’une histoire, in D. Aigle and S. Péquignot (eds.), La Correspondance entre souverains, princes et cités-états: Approches croisées entre l’Orient musulman, l’Occident et Byzance (XIIIe–début XVIe siècle), Turnhout 2013, 77–100. Theunissen, H.P.A., Ottoman-Venetian diplomatics: the ʿahd-names. The historical background and the development of a category of political-commercial instruments together with an annotated edition of a corpus of relevant documents, in Electronic Journal of Oriental Studies (Utrecht) I/2 (1998), 1–698. Thomas, G.M., and R. Predelli, Diplomatarium veneto-levantinum sive Acta et diplomata res venetas, graecas atque levantis illustrantia, 2 vols., Venice 1880–99. Troadec, A., Une lettre de Baybars au comte Bohémond VI de Tripoli (mai 1271). Une arme dans l’arsenal idéologique des Mamelouks, in D. Aigle and S. Péquignot (eds.), La Correspondance entre souverains, princes et cités-états: Approches croisées entre l’Orient musulman, l’ Occident et Byzance (XIIIe–début XVIe siècle), Turnhout 2013, 107–25. Tuchscherer, M., and M.P. Pedani, Alexandrie ottomane 1, Cairo 2011. Uzun, M., Münşeat, in Türk Diyanet Vakfı İslam Ansiklopedisi xxxii, 18–20 (https:// islamansiklopedisi.org.tr/munseat). Vaesen, J., Lettres de Louis XI, roi de France publiées d’après les originaux. Tome IX: Lettres de Louis XI, 1481–1482, Paris 1905. Vallet, É., Des “sultans-secrétaires”? Pratique de l’archive et savoirs encyclopédiques dans l’État rasūlide (VIIe–IXe/XIIIe–XVe siècles), in AI 46 (2012), 229–54. Vallet, É., Mūsā b. al-Ḥasan al-Mawṣilī et la correspondance des sultans rasūlides du Yémen. Genèse d’un ordre épistolaire, in D. Aigle and S. Péquignot (eds.), La Correspondance entre souverains, princes et cités-états. Approches croisées entre l’Orient musulman, l’Occident et Byzance (XIIIe–début XVIe siècle), Turnhout 2013, 127–45. van Berchem, M., Matériaux pour un Corpus Inscriptionum Arabicarum: Égypte, Cairo 1894–1903. Van Berkel, M., Archives and chanceries: pre-1500, in Arabic, in EI3 (publ. online 2013), http://dx.doi.org/10.1163/1573‑3912_ei3_COM_24390. Van Berkel, M., The attitude towards knowledge in Mamluk Egypt: Organisation and structure of the Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā by al-Qalqashandī (1355–1418), in P. Binkley (ed.), PreModern encyclopaedic texts: Proceedings of the second COMERS congress, Groningen, 1–4 July 1996, Leiden and New York 1997, 159–68. Van Berkel, M., Ibn Khaldūn, a critical historian at work: The Muqaddima on secretaries and secretarial writing, in A. Vrolijk and J.P. Hogendijk (eds.), O ye Gentlemen: Arabic studies on science and literary culture in honour of Remke Kruk, Leiden and Boston 2007, 247–61. Van Berkel, M., Opening up a world of knowledge: Mamluk encyclopaedias and their readers, in J. König and G. Woolf (eds.), Encyclopaedism from Antiquity to the Renaissance, Cambridge 2013, 357–75.

mamluk diplomatics: the present state of research

103

Van Berkel, M., al-Qalqashandī (1355–1418), in J.E. Lowry and D.J. Stewart (eds.), Essays in Arabic literary biography, 1350–1850, Wiesbaden 2009, 331–40. Van Berkel, M., A well-mannered man of letters or a cunning accountant: al-Qalqashandī and the historical position of the kātib, in al-Masāq 13 (2001), 87–96. Vermeulen, U., Le Traité d’armistice entre le sultan Baybars et les Hospitaliers de Ḥiṣn al-Akrād et al-Marqab (4 Ramadan 665A.H./29 mai 1267), in OLP 19 (1988), 189–95. Vermeulen, U., Le Traité d’armistice relatif à al-Marqab conclu entre Baybars et les Hospitaliers (1 Ramadan 669/13 avril 1271), in QSA 8 (1990), 123–31. Vermeulen, U., Timur Lang en Syrie: la correspondance entre le Mamluk Farag et le mérinide Abu Sa‘id, in Vermeulen and D. De Smet (eds.), Proceedings of the 4th and 5th International Colloquium Egypt and Syria in the Fatimid, Ayyubid and Mamluk Eras II (Katholieke Universiteit Leuven, May 1995 and 1996), Leuven 1998, 303–11. Veselý, R., Die inšāʾ-Literatur, in W. Fischer (ed.), Grundriß der Arabischen Philologie, vol. 3: Supplement, Wiesbaden 1992, 188–208. Veselý, R., Die richterlichen Beglaubigungsmittel: Ein Beitrag zur Diplomatik arabischer Gerichtsurkunden, in Orientalia Pragensia 8 (1971), 7–23; 10 (1977), 99–122. Veselý, R., Die richterlichen Beglaubigungsmittel: Ein Beitrag zur Diplomatik arabischer Gerichtsurkunden: 3. ʾImḍāʾ, in U. Marzolph (ed.), Orientalistische Studien zu Sprache und Literatur. Festgabe zum 65. Geburtstag von Werner Diem, Wiesbaden 2011, 251–61. Veselý, R., Ein Briefwechsel zwischen Ägypten und den Qaramaniden im 14. Jahrhundert, in Asian and African Studies 9 (2000), 36–44. Veselý, R., Ein Kapitel aus dem osmanisch-mamlukischen Beziehungen. Meḥemmed Çelebi und al-Mu’ayyad Shaykh, in Armağan: Festschrift für Andreas Tietze, Prague 1994, 241–59. Veselý, R., Eine neue Quelle zur Geschichte Ägyptens im 9./15. Jahrhundert, in C. Wunsch (ed.), in XXV. Deutscher Orientalistentag, Vorträge, München 8.–14.4.1991, Stuttgart 1994, 136–43. Veselý, R., Eine Stilkunstschrift oder eine Urkundensammlung? Das Qahwat al-inšā’ des Abū Bakr Ibn Ḥidjdja al-Ḥamawī, in O. Hulec and M. Mendel (eds.), Threefold wisdom: Islam, the Arab world and Africa: Papers in honour of Ivan Hrbek, Prague 1993, 237–47. Veselý, R., Zu den Quellen al-Qalqašandī’s Ṣubḥ al-aʿšā, in Orientalia Pragensia 6 (1969), 13–24. Veselý, R., Zur arabischen Kanzleiliteratur, in M. Fleischhammer (ed.), Arabische Sprache und Literatur im Wandel: Kongress und Tagungsberichte der M. Luther Universität, Halle 1979, 239–44. Veselý, R., Zwei Opera Cancellaria Minora des Šihābuddīn Aḥmad b. Faḍlullāh alʿUmarī, in AO 70 (2002), 513–57. Viladrich, M., Jaque al Sultán en el “damero maldito”. Edición y traducción de un

104

bauden

tratado diplomático entre los mercaderes catalanes y el sultanato mameluco (1429), in M.T. Ferrer i Mallol and D. Coulon (eds.), Actes del séminaire/seminari organitzat per la Casa de Velázquez (Madrid) i la Institució Milà i Fontanals (CSIC, Barcelona). L’expansió catalana a la Mediterrània a la Baixa Edat Mitjana (Barcelona, 20 April 1998), Barcelona 1999, 161–205. Viladrich, M., Solving the “Accursed Riddle” of the diplomatic relations between Catalonia and Egypt around 1430, in al-Masāq 14 (2003), 25–31. Vincke, J., Die Gesandtschaften der aragonischen Könige und die Reliquien der heiligen Barbara, in Historisches Jahrbuch 60 (1940), 115–23. Vincke, J., Pedro IV de Aragón y la Tierra Santa, in Analecta sacra tarraconensia: Revista de ciències historicoeclesiàstiques 13 (1937), 79–88. Vollers, K., Katalog der islamischen, christlich-orientalischen, jüdischen und samaritanischen Handschriften der Universitäts-Bibliothek zu Leipzig, Leipzig 1906. Wansbrough, J., Documents for the history of commercial relations between Egypt and Venice, 1442–1512, PhD dissertation, School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London 1961. Wansbrough, J., Lingua franca in the Mediterranean, Richmond, Surrey 1996. Wansbrough, J., A Mamluk ambassador to Venice in 913/1507, in BSOAS XXVI (1963), 503–30. Wansbrough, J., A Mamlūk commercial treaty concluded with the Republic of Florence, 894/1489, in S.M. Stern (ed.), Documents from Islamic chanceries, Oxford 1965, 39–79. Wansbrough, J., A Mamluk letter of 877/1473, in BSOAS XXIV (1961), 200–13. Wansbrough, J., The Safe-Conduct in Muslim chancery practice, in BSOAS 34 (1971), 20– 35. Wansbrough, J., Venice and Florence in the Mamluk commercial privileges, in BSOAS XXVIII (1965), 483–523. Wiet, G., Les Classiques du scribe égyptien au XVe siècle, in SI XVIII (1963), 41–80. Wiet, G., Les Secrétaires de la chancellerie (Kuttâb-el-Sirr) en Égypte sous les Mamlouks circassiens (784–922/1382–1517), in Mélanges René Basset. Études nord-africaines et orientales, 2 vols., Paris 1923, i, 271–314. Yüksel Muslu, C., Attempting to understand the language of diplomacy between the Ottomans and the Mamluks, in Archivum Ottomanicum 30 (2013), 247–67. Yüksel Muslu, C., Ottoman-Mamluk relations and the complex image of Bāyezīd II, in B. Lellouch and N. Michel (eds.), Conquête ottomane de l’Égypte (1517): Arrière-plan, impact, échos, Leiden and Boston 2013, 51–76. Yüksel Muslu, C., The Ottomans and the Mamluks: Imperial diplomacy and warfare in the Islamic world, London and New York 2014. Zayyāt, Ḥ., Athar unuf: nuskhat qiṣṣa waradat ilā l-abwāb al-sharīfa al-sulṭāniyya almalakiyya Īnāl min al-muslimīn al-qāṭinīn Lishbūna, in Al-Machriq 35 (1937), 13–22.

chapter 2

Mamluk Diplomacy: the Present State of Research Malika Dekkiche

1

Introduction

Over the last decades, the field of diplomatic history has seen a renewal of interest among historians, who have begun to question and reevaluate the methodology of the field. Traditional approaches are now considered too antiquated and conservative, and scholars have proposed various new approaches and avenues of inquiry.1 This trend, mostly dominated by Europeanists, has been particularly fruitful with regard to the study of premodern diplomacy (e.g., medieval and early modern), and has progressively succeeded in reintegrating the field fully into the realm of historical study.2 One of the major goals of the movement is to break free from the nationalistic bias and positivist approaches that previously characterized the discipline. It aims to do so by integrating the new achievements of social, economic, and cultural history, and favoring interand multi-disciplinary approaches.3 The output of this renewal is manifold: First, scholars are being encouraged to focus more on the relations between internal and external policies, as well as the relation between diplomacy and legitimacy.4 Second, the role and importance of the institutions linked to the practice of diplomacy is greatly highlighted, especially with regard to diplomatic agents. Third, scholars are showing more interest in a greater plurality of actors and matters involved in the diplomatic process. Fourth, the culture in which the actors evolved is being given more attention than before. Last but not least, premodern diplomacy is, finally, no longer marginalized. This development of the new diplomatic history and the questions it raises is particularly interesting and relevant for the present volume on Mamluk diplomatic studies. Mamluk diplomacy,5 or more generally premodern Islamic

1 Watkins, Towards a new diplomatic history; Sowerby, Early modern diplomatic history; Schweizer and Schumann, The revitalization. 2 Frigo, Introduction 3; Péquignot, Les Diplomaties occidentales. 3 Watkins, Towards a new diplomatic history 1; Frigo, Introduction 6. 4 Fubini, Diplomacy and government; Lazzarini, Communication and conflict. 5 In this essay, “Mamluk” diplomacy refers to all the types of relationships between the Mamluk sultans (or in the name of the sultans) and their foreign interlocutors. Thus, “Mamluk” refers

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2019 | doi:10.1163/9789004384637_003

106

dekkiche

diplomacy, is in fact a rather new field of inquiry in Islamic history. While scholars have produced important contributions to that field over time, these studies remain scattered in focus, and do not amount to a coherent diplomatic history of the region. The lack of consistent studies in premodern Islamic diplomatic history has led some Europeanists to call for the integration of that field into diplomatic history, as a study of marginal and peripheral diplomacy.6 This indicates the extent of the gap between premodern Islamic and ‘European’ diplomatic history. It seems that the disinterest or neglect of the study of premodern Islamic diplomacy is twofold: On one hand, a quick look at the existing studies on the topic shows, first, a rather restricted understanding of diplomacy or inter‘states’7 relations. Scholars have so far devoted most of their efforts to the study of diplomatic relationships in times of war and conflict. In this context, there has been a great focus on Muslim relations and interactions with non-Muslim entities. This is not only due to the nature of the sources available, which usually describe and report on the belligerent aspects of inter-‘states’ relations (i.e., victories, warriors, copies of treaties and agreements), but also on the assumed nature of ‘Islamic international law,’ which is supposed to be dominated by a jihād (or ‘holy’ war) policy. The common assumption that emerges from these narratives is, therefore, that of an Islamic world unable to conduct peaceful relationships with its non-Muslim neighbors. According to this view, diplomacy—or similar kinds of communication and relationships between political elites—in times of peace represents the exception rather than the rule. The second aspect of this neglect of the study of Islamic diplomacy stems from another misconception in diplomatic history in general, a misconception that has long impeded the understanding of premodern diplomacy. Medieval diplomacy has long been labeled weak, or even primitive, and therefore not (or less) worth studying.8 Indeed, according to this view, only those ‘states’ that favored the use of resident embassies, and therefore of modern diplomacy, deserve scholarly attention. Since the Ottoman Empire only started making use more generally to all members of the military and civilian elites that served the interests of the sultan. In this context, “Mamluk” is used as opposed to the term “mamlūk” that refers to military slaves. 6 Watkins, Towards a new diplomatic history 2; Péquignot, Les Diplomaties occidentales, 57; Sowerby, Early modern diplomatic history 442. 7 Though the use of the term “state” is considered problematic when speaking about the premodern period, it proves useful when used in the broad sense to refer to the independent powers and rulers involved in diplomatic contact. 8 Watkins, Towards a new diplomatic history 4.

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

107

of permanent embassies in the late eighteenth century,9 premodern Islamic diplomacy may have seemed insignificant to some scholars operating on these assumptions. Whereas scholars in the field of European history have already broken free of this teleological approach, specialists in Islamic history only recently recognized the need to do so in their own field. Linked to these two aspects, it must be added that scholars in our field are still very much attached to a conception of diplomacy that is restricted to, or the monopoly of, state-like entities; one that therefore denies any participation of other political elites. The latter aspect is developed further in other sections of this chapter. The last—though not the least—reason for the lack of substantial studies on premodern Islamic diplomacy can be attributed to the number and the nature of the documents available to scholars. Though the common myth that the premodern Islamic world has not left us with any original documents has by now become much more nuanced,10 the limited numbers of documents still raise certain problems. Indeed, most of the extant collections have been edited and studied already.11 Moreover, while scholars are sometimes lucky to find documents kept in (state) archives, many are dispersed, and are found far from their original context, often in a poor state of conservation. Because there are few archival documents left, scholars interested in the study of premodern Islamic diplomacy are often compelled to use copies of lost documents and general narrative sources. And this of course presents a set of problems and methodological challenges. The use of copies of documents—which are found in collections of letters,12 chancery manuals, or sometimes in chronicles— immediately raises questions about their authenticity and reliability. Although in many cases, the information found in those copies can be corroborated by a comparison with other—narrative—sources, their use as true primary sources often shocks historians working on other regions. While there is now a consensus among scholars in the field of premodern Islamic history that these copies can be included in the category of ‘documentary’ sources, questions of

9 10 11

12

Kürkçüoğlu, The adoption 133. This problematic issue is dealt with in more detail and depth in Frédéric Bauden’s introduction in this volume. For a detailed list of the available documents made by the collaborative project, see The checklist of Arabic documents (http://www.naher‑osten.lmu.de/isapchecklist) based at the Ludwig-Maximilians Universität München, and compiled with the collaboration of Petra M. Sijpesteijn, Andreas Kaplony, Eva M. Youssef-Grob, Daniel Potthast, and the late John F. Oates. Munshaʾāt in Arabic. This term is usually translated as “formularies.” The content of those collections, however differs from European formularies, which include ideal models of letters rather than copies.

108

dekkiche

reliability still need to be addressed. Furthermore, though the Islamic world is well known for its extensive literary production, the number of works dealing with diplomatic exchanges is rather limited in comparison to the materials available in Europe. The most common sources consist of chronicles and administrative literature that deal with diverse aspects of the exchanges of embassies, such as the reception of embassies in the capital of the empire, and the official staff involved in the diplomatic process at both state and chancery levels. The extant prosopographical works also often—but not always—allow researchers to track diplomatic agents, such as ambassadors. However, we are, for the most part, deprived of firsthand accounts of messengers from within the Islamic world. In other words, historians of the Islamic world are in fact quite limited compared to Europeanists (especially the Italianists) when dealing with premodern diplomacy. Yet even though this is a challenging situation for historians, there are still many opportunities for development in the field. During the last decade, the field of Mamluk studies has in fact demonstrated its potential as a field of inquiry for premodern Islamic diplomacy and the present volume illustrates the new efflorescence that this field has enjoyed.13 Though the project of the present volume originated independently of any insights from the new diplomatic history, it is not too late to link both and highlight the common methodologies and goals. This introductory article therefore intends not only to present the contributions of the volume, but above all, to contextualize them in the broader field of diplomatic history. To best judge the originality of the work, it is first important to be fully aware of the state of research of our field and the gap that needs to be filled. Before I concentrate on the state of research in the field of Mamluk diplomacy, it is important to understand how it relates to the broader field of premodern Islamic diplomacy. Therefore, I begin this contribution by reviewing that concept on the basis of the extant sources and literature. As I show, there are different understandings of Islamic diplomacy and its goals, depending of the various types of sources. After presenting the classical approach to the field, I concentrate on the context peculiar to Mamluk diplomacy. I also discuss the methodology and approaches used in the field, and show how those are dictated and constrained by the available sources. Third, I review the existing secondary literature on Mamluk diplomacy and present the most common themes studied

13

A previous attempt to gather contributions devoted to premodern Islamic diplomacy was completed by Favereau, Les Conventions diplomatiques, in a special issue of Annales Islamologiques.

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

109

thus far. Finally, I attempt to link the contributions of the current volume to the recent achievements of the new diplomatic history, and I discuss the new lines of inquiries presented throughout the various chapters and the future of Mamluk diplomacy.

2

Defining Premodern Islamic Diplomacy: Different Sources, Different Understandings

In most manuals on diplomacy, the Congress of Vienna (1815) is taken as the basis and origin of the practice of modern diplomacy. Indeed, while the primary goal of the Congress was to settle a new international order and create a balance of power in Europe, its consequences directly affected the essence and practice of diplomacy, whose basis and rules came to be sanctioned as universal international law that would bind all nations together.14 And most of the values articulated in this law had long been recognized by most major powers around the world. From the medieval period, ‘diplomacy’ developed as a set of complex, yet common, rules that favored communication and interactions between distant areas and diverse cultures. Rulers reached agreements and compromises and signed treaties that attest to a common practice, a quasi-universal understanding of the means and goals of diplomacy. Most of those rules had a far-reaching and longstanding impact on diplomatic practice.15 Though the Congress of Vienna sanctioned the ‘new’ practice, the term ‘diplomacy’ that came to designate it had imposed itself a century earlier among both theorists and practitioners. The term diplomacy, or its many derivatives, was indeed often used to designate activities linked to international relations.16 Originally, the term designated an official document granting privileges to someone (orig. Greek: διπλωμα, diploma); later its meaning was expanded to refer to the people and activities relating to those documents. Gradually, diplomacy came to define the “skill or dexterity in the conduct of international intercourse and negotiations.”17 The term was first used in French, then translated to other languages, including Arabic (diblūmāsiyya). The ety-

14 15

16 17

Roberts (ed.), Satow’s Diplomatic practice 11. The same observation has been made regarding the Peace of Westphalia in the seventeenth century, which for a long time was considered a turning point in the practice of diplomacy. Sowerby, Early modern diplomatic history 442–3; Osiander, Sovereignty. Satow, Diplomatic practice 5. Ibid. 5., according to Burke, 1796.

110

dekkiche

mology and terminology used by a particular civilization to designate specific practices is quite revealing of the way that those practices were conceived and perceived over time. On the academic level as well, the study of ‘diplomacy’ greatly evolved in its focus. Originally restricted to the study of the documents, ‘diplomacy’ has progressively expanded to integrate the actors, institutions, and cultures linked to the practices of relationships between the political elite and the communication elite; such that it now constitutes an analytical framework used by scholars to understand these various sets of practices. As convenient as this framework is however, it does not always match past realities nor does it align with the understanding the actors had of these practices. Before moving on to a broader understanding of diplomacy as set by the analytical framework, in the following sections, I review the essence of diplomacy as understood and established in the premodern Islamic world. Beyond the mere presentation of a supposed theory or norm—as opposed to practice—, the goal of these sections is to present the various discourses pertaining to diplomacy. 2.1 Diplomacy as an Attribute of Kingship: Mirror for Princes Literature As in the case for medieval and early modern Europe, the premodern Islamic world did not have a specific word to refer to what would now be considered ‘diplomacy.’ While the specific term was absent, the practices attached to it were recognized early on. Whereas in Europe the etymology of the term goes back to the documents (diploma) involved in the practice of diplomacy, in the premodern Islamic world, most discussions pertaining to diplomatic contacts concentrate on other aspects of the process: the figure of the ambassador or messenger (rasūl; pl. rusul), or more particularly the messengers of the kings (rusul al-mulūk). Over time, other terms came to designate the ambassador, such as qāṣid (emissary) or even safīr (ambassador, mediator),18 though rasūl is the generic word that best fits the function. This is quite clear from the existing literature on the topic. While in the European tradition we find a number of works devoted to the figures of the ambassadors, i.e., texts produced by and for the men exercising the function, in the Islamic world we do not find an equivalent literature. Discussion on the messengers, their functions, attributes, and roles, however, can be found in a specific type of literature produced at an early date, namely

18

Nowadays, safīr designates the ambassador, but during the premodern period it seems to have been used to designate emissaries sent to negotiate truces. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā xiv, 103; Ibn al-Farrāʾ, Kitāb Rusul al-mulūk 62.

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

111

advices for kings. There we find the first reflections on the importance of diplomatic contacts and their proper performance. This literature, which has been compared with the genre of mirrors for princes, discusses the figure of the messengers of the kings. The most famous and relevant text in this regard is Ibn al-Farrāʾ’s fourth-/tenth-century Kitāb Rusul al-mulūk (The Book of Messengers of Kings), recently translated and annotated by Maria Vaiou.19 But we find similar discussions on messengers in other books of advice, such as Niẓām alMulk’s Siyar al-mulūk (fifth/eleventh century) and al-ʿAbbāsī’s Āthār al-uwal fī tartīb al-duwal (eighth/fourteenth century), though not with the same degree of detail. This literature, while normative in style, informs us a great deal about the sacred character of the function of messenger—its association with prophethood and the revelation—,20 but also about the messenger’s expected attributes (physical and intellectual),21 conduct,22 and functions.23 Another aspect discussed in this type of works concerns the rules and protocol regarding the dispatch and reception of messengers.24 Finally, the practice related to messengers is also contextualized based on Persian and Greek traditions,25 as well as earlier Islamic precedents.26 Though none of these works provides us a clear definition of premodern Islamic diplomacy, a thorough reading of them nevertheless gives us a sense of the nature of the goals and some of the rules of diplomacy in this period. In fact, the mirror for princes genre is quite informative about the nature of diplomacy; it reveals, for example, that diplomacy consists of the sending of messengers, which is considered an attribute of kingship. While it is often said that medieval diplomacy was not sovereign in nature, the evidence about premodern Islamic diplomacy seems to hint at the opposite. Second, with regard to the primary function and goal attributed to the messengers, they were considered intermediaries between courts, because of their 19 20

21 22 23 24

25

26

Vaiou, Diplomacy. Ibn al-Farrāʾ, Kitāb Rusul al-mulūk, chapter 1: on “… what the Book of the Exalted and Great God says about the messengers, and why it is needful to exalt them and be guided by them,” translated in Vaiou, Diplomacy 58–60. Ibid. 66–8; 75–6 (chapters 6, 12). Ibid. 71 (chapter 8). Ibid. 65 (chapter 5). Ibid. These are spread through all the sections of the works and are illustrated with examples. Niẓām al-Mulk, The book of government 94–8, and al-ʿAbbāsī, Āthār al-uwal 191–2, also discuss these issues. Given the influence of these two traditions on the development of the Arabic-Islamic mirrors for princes and the principles of government, it is not surprising to find such discussions related to the use of messengers as well. Arjomand, Legitimacy. Ibn al-Farrāʾ, Kitāb Rusūl al-mulūk, chapters 7, 13–7, in Vaiou, Diplomacy 69–70; 77–84.

112

dekkiche

role in the delivery of written messages in the form of letters.27 If the mirror for princes originally introduced that function in the context of the revelation and the spread of the message of God, it soon changed its focus to the role of the messengers as mediators. Indeed, messengers of kings were the first to deploy their efforts to find alternatives to warfare,28 and to gather information.29 While the advices for kings and the mirrors for princes literature informs us of some of the goals of diplomacy, and some of its attributes and means, it is primarily based on ancient Greek and Persian traditions. Therefore, we need to turn to the more specific Islamic tradition in order to understand some of the particularities of the practice. This is especially the case if we aim to grasp how Muslim rulers understood their relations with external entities. To do so, we refer to a series of works on the legal framework of Islam’s conception of the world and its relationship to others (i.e., non-Muslims), namely the jihād and siyar manuals. Though these two are closely related in their focus on the law of war, the second is of more interest to us, since it is often considered the equivalent of an “Islamic law of nations.”30 These concepts—jihād and siyar—have their raison d’être in a specific Islamic conception of the world established by religious scholars. According to this view, the world is divided between the ‘house of Islam’ (dār al-Islām) and the ‘house of war’ (dār al-ḥarb). The ‘house of Islam’ includes all the lands that accepted Islamic rule, though not necessarily the religion.31 Its aim was to extend said rule to the entire world, especially to those regions that had not yet recognized Islamic sovereignty. The latter is called the ‘house of war’ because wars (supposedly) must be fought—through jihād—in order to fully integrate these regions into the house of Islam.32 Jihād, dār al-Islām, dār al-ḥarb, and the dār al-ʿahd, constitute the four basic concepts that theoretically underpin and regulate the relations between the Islamic world and the outside world.33 The following section explains these important notions in more detail.

27 28 29 30

31 32 33

Ibn al-Farrāʾ, Kitāb Rusūl al-mulūk, chapter 5, in Vaiou, Diplomacy 65. Vaiou, Diplomacy 2. Ibn al-Farrāʾ, Kitāb Rusūl al-mulūk, chapter 19, in Vaiou, Diplomacy 92–3; Niẓām al-Mulk, The book of government 63–71; 74–87. The term was first labeled by Majid Khadduri in his The Islamic law of nations, but is still used in most discussions and contributions on Islam and international law, see Frick and Müller (eds.), Islam and international law. I.e., the ‘people of the book.’ By contrast, polytheists also had to accept Islam as a religion. Khadduri, The Islamic law of nations 10–4. Bsoul, International treaties 1–2.

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

113

2.2 Diplomacy as a Means for Peace: Jihād and Siyar Literature Jihād, unlike dār al-Islam and dār al-ḥarb, is a term well attested in the Quran, though it is not linked to ‘international’ relations.34 As scholars have shown, strictly speaking, jihād did not originally designate a conflict or an armed struggle, but rather strife, or “the degree of devotion to God’s cause over concern for worldly affairs.”35 Understanding the nature, the categories, and the development of jihād is in itself quite essential, and many scholars have devoted important studies to this topic.36 In this section I do not address the many debates and issues related to jihād. Instead, I focus on those developments that directly concern Islam’s relation with the outside world, those that influenced the history of diplomatic relations. Understanding the evolution of the concept of jihād in the works of the jurists, through the development of the siyar, is quite important to our understanding of how early Muslims thought of ‘international’ relations. From early on, jihād emerged as a convenient and effective tool in the hands of the Islamic state to justify territorial expansion.37 On the model of the Prophet’s campaigns (maghāzī) against polytheistic Arabian tribes, the caliphal institution was able to rally communal fervor in its fight against the infidels, and thereby expand the limits of the Islamic realm. The dichotomy between the world of believers and that of non-believers resonated quite well with the Quranic message and was soon recognized and sanctioned by the state and its officials.38 If this early Islamic understanding of the world was based on communal criteria (believer vs. non-believer),39 the concepts of dār al-Islām and dār al-ḥarb that were soon derived from it went beyond this religious aspect. Indeed, they imply an Islamic conception of the world expressed in territorial and political terms.40 As previously mentioned, dār al-islām refers to the territory under Islamic authority, in other words, areas subject to Islamic law. It also designated the regions where Muslims and protected communities (ahl al-dhimma) are safe and free to practice their rituals.41 Dār alḥarb, on the other hand, refers to those regions that are not yet under Islamic

34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41

Heck, “Jihād” revisited 96–8. Ibid. 98. Ibid.; Bonner, Jihad; al-Dawoody, Islamic law of war. Heck, “Jihād” revisited 106. Ibid. 106–7. This is the basic division of humankind described by the Quran: al-Dawoody, Islamic law of war 72–5. Heck, “Jihād” revisited 106. Albrecht, Dār al-Islām and dār al-ḥarb.

114

dekkiche

rule. This state of being is considered temporary, until its integration under Islamic authority. The notion of jihād is usually associated with this transition from one ‘house’ (dār) to the other. If jihād was to be waged against the ‘house of war,’ it should be kept in mind that it was not originally designed as an end in itself. Indeed, both the Quran and the precedents set by the Prophet insist on the principle of non-aggression peculiar to Islam.42 In the ḥadīth, war was primarily defensive in nature and only permitted in response to specific aggression, such as the denial or refusal of the word of God. In fact, some kind of diplomacy seems to have preceded war. Here what is understood as diplomacy is the process of sending messengers to non-Muslim populations to call them to accept the faith of Islam and enter the new community (either as Muslims or as protected peoples).43 Based on the model of the Prophet, fighting could only occur if the population (of polytheists) refused to embrace Islam or to pay the jizya, the tax for protection (for the people of the book; ahl al-kitāb). This principle highlights one of the primary goals of early Islamic diplomacy as a means to prevent war. The essential figure in the process of diplomacy was the messenger. As noted, the figure of the messenger was, as the Arabic term (rasūl) indicates, originally associated with prophethood and the revelation. He was understood to be the one to spread the message of God to mankind.44 The messenger’s skills in persuasion and negotiation are closely related to this task. The first is of course essential in bringing populations under Islamic rule, while the second is crucial to avoiding conflict.45 If the messenger’s role as an intermediary between the Prophet or later caliphs and foreign rulers was central, he did not act alone: He was supported by the written message, the letter, he was bringing. Over time, with the de facto spread of Islam and the political realities of a world that was not entirely Islamic, the tasks allocated to the messengers were expanded and diversified. Therefore, religious scholars dealing with legal issues had to address and establish rules to deal with the ongoing existence of non-Muslim territories. As noted, the Quran already clearly established a division of mankind based on the criteria of belief: believers vs. unbelievers. With the development of the caliphate, the need for a legal distinction soon increased, and in the late second/eighth century, scholars started addressing those distinctions through 42 43 44 45

Afsaruddin, The siyar laws of aggression. Istanbuli, Diplomacy; Bsoul, Islamic diplomacy 131–2. Ibn al-Farrāʾ, Kitāb Rusūl al-mulūk, chapters 1 and 2, in Vaiou, Diplomacy 2, 58–61; Istanbuli, Diplomacy 116–7. Ibid. 52–3.

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

115

a new branch of Islamic law, called the siyar. It is in those works that the terms dār al-islām and dār al-ḥarb came to be used systematically.46 The Ḥanafī school of law was particularly prolific in respect to these; the first major works on this topic were produced by two disciples of Abū Ḥanīfa (d. 150/767), Abū Yūsuf (d. 182/798) and al-Shaybānī (d. 189/805).47 The siyar works (sing. sīra: conduct, behavior) are intermingled with the jihād literature and are therefore closely associated with the belligerent aspect of inter-state relations.48 But while siyar works address issues of war, they are in fact mostly concerned with questions of the practicalities of war, such as the status of conquered populations, prisoners of war, and booty.49 So, while siyar is associated with texts on jihād, which usually deal with the justification of war ( jus ad bellum), the siyar concentrates on the rules that regulate it ( jus in bello).50 As a branch of the sharīʿa, siyar is primarily based on Islamic sources, such as Quran and Sunna.51 But because a great number of situations were not addressed in the Quran and the Sunna, religious scholars also drew extensively on other (non-divine) sources. The concept of ʿurf (customary practices) is, in this context, particularly important. Many of these practices predating the emergence of Islam were in fact accepted by the Prophet and the early caliphs, as long as they did not contradict the Quranic message.52 Those practices were progressively integrated into the siyar; these included practices such as the rules regarding the observation of treaties, issues of immunities, and the permissibility of wars.53 Since the caliphate integrated territories that previously belonged to longstanding imperial traditions (i.e., Byzantine, Sassanid), and their bureaucratic apparatus, it also adopted some of their practices and ways for dealing with foreign entities. This is particularly the case for the practice of treaty-making with non-Muslim communities.54 46

47

48 49 50 51 52 53 54

Albrecht, Dār al-islām and dār al-ḥarb, based on Fred M. Donner’s unpublished paper “The development of the concepts of dār al-Islām and dār al-ḥarb” (presented at the annual meeting of the Middle East Studies Association, 1989). Also see the recently edited volume by Calasso and Lancioni, Dār al-islām/dār al-ḥarb. Al-Shaybānī’s work, al-Siyar al-kabīr is the most famous instance, next to that of alSarakhsī (d. 483/1090), Sharḥ al-siyar al-kabīr. Majid Khadduri edited and translated alShaybānī’s work in 1966, Khadduri, The Islamic law of nations. I.e., in works related to the maghāzī, or as a chapter in works devoted to jihād. Bsoul, International treaties 4–6. Ibid. 6–7. Afsaruddin, The siyar laws of aggression 46. Bsoul, International treaties 12–3; al-Dawoody, Islamic law of war 71–105. Mohd, Meaning and method 65–6. Ibid. Bsoul, Islamic diplomacy 130.

116

dekkiche

A last source that is recognized as playing a role in the development of the siyar is the consensus (ijmāʿ) of religious scholars, though claims about consensus were often questioned. Although the siyar was first developed in the Ḥanafī school of law, it soon spread to the other schools of law. Major differences exist, however, among the schools on the definition of the houses themselves (dār alislām, dār al-ḥarb), the status of protected and non-Muslim populations, and the application of the law within those groups.55 Based on the assumption that the siyar is primarily concerned with war, which is supposed to be the basis for Islam’s relations with non-Muslim entities, it is usually considered a kind of “Islamic international law” or “law of nations.”56 This association is, however, rather restrictive, and implies that an Islamic law of nations is in fact merely a law regulating war and booty.57 While the bellicose aspects of the siyar cannot be denied, this view should be nuanced. As Khadduri describes in his introduction to al-Shaybānī’s siyar, in fact, peace was the ultimate goal of Muslim relations with others.58 While scholars often see jihād as a means to reach peace, the diplomatic aspects of the peace process should not be underestimated. As noted, every initiation of contact with foreign rulers, by sending messengers, was aimed, first and foremost, at the peaceful establishment of relations. A crucial part of that process was the conclusion of treaties and covenants with foreign populations and nonMuslim communities. Looking more closely at al-Sarakhsī’s (d. 483/1090) definition of siyar, we can see other aspects and actors involved in this law: the siyar describes the conduct of the believers in their relations with the unbelievers in the enemy territory, as well as with the people with whom the believers had made a covenant, temporary or permanent; with apostates who were considered as the worst of the unbelievers, since they adjured after they accepted Islam, and with the rebels, who were not counted as unbelievers, though they were ignorant and their understanding of Islam was considered to be inadequate.59 This definition is, in fact, quite revealing on some important points. On one hand, regarding Muslims’ relations with non-Muslims, al-Sarakhsī points out 55 56 57 58 59

For the major differences in the schools, see Albrecht, Dār al-islām and dār al-ḥarb. The term was first used by Khadduri in his annotated translation of al-Shaybānī. Afsaruddin, The siyar laws of aggression 45, based on Khadduri. Khadduri, The Islamic law of nations 17. Ibid. 40.

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

117

that siyar not only regulated relations with the dār al-ḥarb (enemy territory), but also within the dār al-Islām itself, as the reference to a permanent covenant suggests.60 Furthermore, the reference to temporary covenants clearly refers to the conclusion of treaties with non-Muslim populations. Although al-Sarakhsī does not speak clearly of a third house, we can easily make a connection to dār al-ṣulḥ or dār al-ʿahd (house of truce).61 This mention of treaty-making, which is a major aspect of the siyar law, makes it more difficult to characterize Islamic ‘international law’ as simply belligerent. It shows that Muslim rulers considered issues around co-habitation with foreign entities from the earliest days of Islam. Moreover, treaties are proof of Islam’s recognition of the ongoing existence of independent states. The second important aspect of al-Sarakhsī’s definition of siyar is the mention of two other groups to be considered as potentially falling under ‘Islamic international law’: apostates and rebels. According to al-Sarakhsī, the first category is even worse than unbelievers, and conducting war against them to bring them back into the dār al-islām is considered legal. The case of the second group is more relevant for us, since it indicates how intra-Muslim relationships should be regulated. While in this case we once more face a situation of conflict—rebellion needs to be suppressed—rebellion in Islam is not illegal per se.62 Therefore, the rules for conducting war—and peace—against ‘rebels’ differ greatly from those governing relations with unbelievers.63 In the case of conflicts and struggles within the Muslim community, diplomacy becomes even more important.64 It is in this particular case that messengers should make great efforts in both mediation and negotiation. Achieving or maintaining peace therefore figures prominently on the agenda. Against the common assumption that ‘Islamic international law’ is dominated by the concept of war, the preceding paragraphs show that the Islamic law peculiar to Muslims’ relationship to others—both non-Muslims and Muslims—in fact tended toward an international—universal—peace. Indeed,

60 61

62 63 64

A permanent covenant is indeed only possible within the territory of Islam. It refers mostly to the ahl al-dhimma. However, it must be noted that scholars from the different schools disagree on the status of this house. Though they agree on its existence, some (such as the Shāfiʿīs and Ḥanafīs) situate it in the dār al-islām, while others consider it part of the dār al-ḥarb or even as an independent territory (Ḥanbalī). Al-Shaybānī (extensively used by al-Sarakhsī), though himself a Ḥanafī, also considered the dār al-amān or al-muwādaʿa as a third category of territory: Albrecht, Dār al-islām and dār al-ḥarb. Al-Dawoody, Islamic law of war 152–8. Ibid. 150–1, 158–70. Dekkiche, Making peace.

118

dekkiche

most of the rules and sets of laws found in works such as those on jihād and siyar show a genuine attempt to restrict and regulate war. If the latter could not be avoided, the law establishes clear guidelines and rules to protect noncombatants, property, and secure a fair and just treatment of prisoners of war.65 In this context, it seems that premodern Islamic diplomacy may have stood “for a norm of behavior,” and aimed to reach and secure peace.66 The de facto recognition of different territories (dār) also suggests that diplomacy in that context tended toward a principle of cooperation between the various parties involved. This last point brings me to another essential aspect inherent to the development of diplomacy in the premodern Islamic world, and that is directly linked with the principles of cooperation, namely trade relationships. It is quite clear that the practice of diplomacy owes a great deal to the mercantile community. Many of the above-mentioned ʿurf, or customary practices, that were integrated into the siyar laws originated in the practices of the merchants. This is particularly true with regard to securing safe-conduct, granting immunity (for both persons and goods), but, also more broadly, to securing the safety of roads, as well as facilitating commercial agreements generally.67 This was primarily for the sake of trade. Many examples for the Mamluk period still demonstrate this concern, as is shown. Thus, while Muslim rulers were initially concerned with the spread of the dār al-Islām, the persistence of a permanent dār al-ḥarb made peaceful co-existence and cooperation inevitable.68 If peace was, in theory, the ultimate goal of diplomacy, in fact, it was only one of its aims. Peace, and conflict resolution, are the most obvious goals of diplomacy in times of war, but in times of peace, the spectrum of diplomatic contacts between populations increases and the goals of diplomacy vary greatly. In such cases, peace is a precondition of diplomacy rather than a goal in itself. The case of the establishment of trade relations was noted as an important element of these peaceful contacts, but there were many other occasions that prompted Muslim rulers to initiate and maintain contacts with foreign counterparts, both Muslim and non-Muslim. An examination of other sources shows that premodern Islamic diplomacy differed greatly from the bilateral conception described in the law. In fact a wide range of actors and situations were involved in the diplomatic process. Over time, the recognition of this political reality created a great diversity of opportunities to develop efficient means for interactions.

65 66 67 68

Afsaruddin, The siyar laws of aggression 54–5. Bsoul, Islamic diplomacy 133. Ibid. 131. Ibid. 127–9.

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

119

2.3 Diplomacy as a Means of State-Building: Administrative Literature Scholars can turn to the administrative literature for insight into the political reality of diplomacy and the diversity of actors involved in it. These sources indicate that the Muslim polity was indeed concerned, from an early stage, with the proper organization of newly conquered territories. The development of an efficient administration run by well-trained bureaucrats clearly shows that concern. The kharāj works attest to the fact that the caliphate was first and foremost focused on internal organization and more specifically on the delimitation of taxable lands. However, this does not mean that the external aspects of its administration were neglected. This concern is clear from the early establishment of the bureau of correspondence (dīwān al-rasāʾīl), which was soon followed by an office that specialized in communication (barīd: post office), and another devoted to the authentication of the documents produced by the administration (dīwān al-khātam: bureau of the seal).69 With the development of such offices, a good knowledge of the lands surrounding the Islamic realm became an essential prerequisite to the function of the secretaries employed in the administration. This knowledge was not restricted to geographical knowledge, but also involved an understanding of the populations that lived in these regions, their history, culture, languages, and resources. From this, there emerged a specific type of administrative literature similar to what we now call human geography.70 This literature was soon exploited to fit the needs of the state chancery. Although the texts on human geography can be rather descriptive, they do offer interesting sources that give us some indication of how the world was viewed at that time: These texts do not describe a world of laws, but rather a more practical world of administration.71 While for a short time, the juridical and practical conceptions of the world reflected one another, the Islamic world and its relationship with its neighbors grew more complex and this complexity is described in those works. While the world presented in the administrative literature is first divided into that of believers and non-believers, both worlds tended, in fact, to show an increasing number of subdivisions. In this sense, they present an accurate picture of the world and the potential interlocutors that might be involved in diplomatic contacts, rather than just superficial bilateral distinctions. This is particularly striking when this list of actors is used in the practice of letter-writing. Over time, indeed, a new type of work emerged

69 70 71

Duri, Dīwān; al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā i, 89–93. Miquel, La Géographie humaine. Dekkiche, Diplomatics, in this volume.

120

dekkiche

in the secretarial class, one that effectively integrated the data of human geography into that of chancery practice; this new type of text was the chancery manuals. As we will see for the Mamluk period, these chancery manuals are a gold mine of information, not only for rules for drafting documents and the status of addressees, but also because those manuals often contain copies of original documents which are now lost. While the two other sources presented above (advice literature and jihādsiyar manuals) deal with the nature and the supposed goals of diplomacy, administrative literature presents us with an indirect account of its structure and modality. Far from opposing the previous treatment of diplomacy, it leads us to yet another level of understanding of diplomatic practices, that are more related to the nature of the state—as a diplomatic actor—and its integration into some sort of diplomatic order. Based on the chancery manuals, for example, we learn that the notion of kingship is once more central, as it constitutes a prerequisite to initiating contacts with foreign entities (mulūk). This kingship is usually associated with the possession of a territory, whose importance determines the king’s place in a broader hierarchy established by the state chancery.72 But if territorial hold first establishes the status of the participants, the many examples found in the collections of letters demonstrates that this was just one among many parameters. Indeed, many diplomatic actors (usually elites) were not related to any territory, but were nevertheless accepted as participants. This indicates, therefore, a greater plurality of actors throughout the premodern Islamic world, but also that the practice of diplomacy took place at many different levels. Whereas chancery manuals list and discuss a broad range of documents, however, we must note the prevailing focus given in those works to the letter (mukātaba). The letter indeed represented the prime medium of communication between powers and with the elite. Chancery manuals address of course the various occasions motivating the exchanges of letters (i.e., the message, strictly speaking), but more importantly, they discuss in length the rules for drafting such documents. Though we have discussed in the previous section the importance of the written message delivered by the emissary, we should note at this stage that the letter as a document also acted at the performative level. Indeed, the format of that letter (with its sets of internal and external features) was established based primarily on the supposed status of the addressee; therefore, it illustrates a particular hierarchy within the diplomatic order.

72

This hierarchy naturally varied from one court to another.

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

121

The above discussion shows that, based on the administrative literature, “diplomacy” seems to have been used extensively by powers, but also by some elites, as a means to position themselves in a hierarchically ordered world that can be organized in some sort of diplomatic order. In that sense, diplomacy appears to being closely associated to issues of state formation and state recognition. The case of Mamluk diplomacy provides more examples on that topic. 2.4

Diplomacy as an Attribute of Power and Social Order: Narrative Sources Finally, diplomatic contacts and relations between Muslim rulers and the foreign world were also well recorded in contemporary historical works, especially in the chronicles. This shows that diplomatic exchanges and receptions were highly valued in Islamic society, since they were considered important to mention in the histories of the realm. On one hand, the information found in the chronicles describes diplomatic practice as it was displayed by Muslim rulers. This is, for example, the case of the highly performative aspect of diplomacy, such as reception of the embassies, the festivities, the exchanges of gifts, etc. Moreover, they also inform us about the motives behind the exchanges, and they often reveal the identity of the agents leading the diplomatic missions. The latter point is particularly relevant, as it reveals yet another level of diplomacy, as practiced on the ground by diverse elites. Indeed, a survey of those men charged with leading the diplomatic missions often shows deep connections and sometimes networks crossing both political and ideological borders. On the other hand, the accounts of those embassy receptions also reveal a quite a bit about the receiving party and how they perceived themselves. Indeed, it is through the reception of embassies that the ruler best displayed the attributes of his power, asserted his legitimacy (if necessary), and exhibited his generosity. Furthermore, we also learn a great deal about the internal organization of the realm through details of the officials involved in the diplomatic process (at every stage) and their functions. Prosopographical works are also relevant when we know the identity of those officials. The combination of chronicles, biographical dictionaries, chancery manuals, collections of letters, and of course, when available, documentary sources (i.e., letters and treaties) is essential to any attempt to study premodern Islamic diplomacy. At times, that information is complemented and supported by sources from other realms that were in contact with the dynasty under study. Some periods and dynasties, however, are better documented than others. In the case of the Mamluk period, historians are in fact quite fortunate. Indeed, of all the periods and realms of the premodern area (predating the Ottomans in the tenth/sixteenth century), it is the best documented. This is

122

dekkiche

true not only in terms of the number of sources available, but also their diversity. Furthermore, the Mamluk period is situated at an exciting time in history, when contacts among the various parts of the world had greatly increased and diversified; this evolution took place despite the origin, religious or cultural affiliations of the numerous actors.

3

Mamluk Diplomacy

3.1 Mamluk Cairo and the World The period that saw the emergence of the Mamluks is of great importance to the field of Islamic history, as it witnessed the end of the Abbasid caliphate of Baghdad and with it the collapse of the Islamic ideal of a unified dār alIslām. This gave birth to a new Islamic order characterized by the recognition of an Islamic world—both divided and manifold—ruled by a number of powers, some of which later produced great empires, such as the Ottomans. The Mamluks were situated at the junction of these two worlds, the old one they sought to reproduce and the incipient one they played a role in bringing about. Though the Mamluks were originally slave-soldiers in the service of the Ayyubids, they overcame their masters and proved themselves to be supreme Muslim rulers. They successfully utilized their defeat of and expulsion of the crusaders and the halt of the Mongol advance into Palestine to elevate themselves and claim their place as rulers. Supported by a strong jihād policy, they became the saviors and defenders of Islam and the Muslims. The Mamluks’ role as successful mujāhidūn constituted the basis of the sultanate’s legitimacy. While jihād was the primary action taken against Franks, Mongols, and also Armenians, Mamluk interaction with those groups was not limited to the battlefield. There were, in fact, many contacts between those rulers; these are well illustrated by the numerous embassies that traveled back and forth from one capital to another in the process of negotiating truces, trade agreements and provisions, ransoms, safe-conducts for merchants and pilgrims, alliances, and protections. With regard to legitimacy, the Mamluks also earned prestige by restoring the Abbasid caliphate in Cairo. While a key figure in Islamic governance, the caliph was, for the most part, a puppet in the hands of the sultans. The existence of the caliphate nevertheless mattered for other Muslim powers, who also sought legitimacy and diplomas of investiture. Another important, though no less disputable, attribute of the Mamluk sultanate was its role as protectors of the Muslim community during the period of the pilgrimage. Indeed, Mamluk sultans, by virtue of their seasonal domination of the pilgrimage through the

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

123

Hijaz,73 were de facto interlocutors for the Muslim community. Whereas this position was often challenged and disputed by certain Muslim powers, others gladly sent their pilgrims to Cairo every year to travel under Mamluk protection. Both hostile and friendly interactions between the Muslim community and the Mamluks produced many occasions for contact and diplomacy. Interestingly, the protection of the pilgrims was not restricted to Muslims. Indeed, since many Christian holy places lay within Mamluk territory, western pilgrims also often requested the sultan’s protection, through guarantees of safe-passage. The strategic location of the Hijaz also increased the Mamluks’ importance in the commercial sphere, particularly in the case of transit trade from India. This dominance brought about a significant increase in exchange with the Latin West, which was concerned with its commercial interests and was anxious to preserve its position in the region. If the Mamluks held a strong position in the commercial scene, especially because of their monopoly on the spice trade, their relations with Christian traders was not a one-way relation. Over time, Mamluk sultans also became acquainted with and grew quite fond of European commodities. Moreover, since the rise of the Mamluks to the sultanate, Italian merchants—especially the Genoese—specialized in the slave trade, which was important to the mamlūk system. Finally, we cannot ignore the importance of Cairo, the Mamluk capital, as the epicenter of Islamic culture and knowledge. The Mamluks set themselves up as worthy heirs of the Ayyubids in the fashion of a “Sunni revival.” This they accomplished by establishing four chief judgeships, one for each of the schools of law, and by patronizing numerous madrasas; thus Cairo became an inescapable destination for those in search of knowledge. For all these reasons, it is clear that the Mamluk sultanate occupied a central and strategic position in the premodern period. Every day, its capital of Cairo received representatives from foreign countries seeking to discuss various matters with the sultan. In constant contact with the neighboring world, Cairo truly proved itself a crossroads for these embassies. As noted, we are fortunate that many of the contacts and exchanges that took place between the Mamluk sultanate and the outside world are known to us through their records in a great number of sources. First among these are, of course, the documentary sources (i.e., letters, treaties, petitions, and decrees).

73

The expression ‘seasonal domination’ over Mecca is a concept (and process) defined and highlighted by Meloy, Imperial power.

124

dekkiche

3.2 Sources for the Study of Mamluk Diplomacy Whereas the premodern Islamic world has bequeathed very few archives to us, a significant number of original Mamluk chancery production was kept in non-Muslim institutions, either by the Christian and Jewish communities living within Mamluk territory, or by the European trading community—mostly in Italian and Spanish archives. Many diplomatic documents, though not kept in their original archives, can also be found in other public and private institutions around the world. Since those collections are presented in detail in Frédéric Bauden’s introductory contribution to this volume, here I only focus on their interest and relevance for the study of Mamluk diplomacy.74 Those documents indeed provide rare testimonies that can help us understand the Mamluk sultanate’s relationships with non-Muslim rulers and interlocutors. Though the nature of the documents depends on the types of relationships in question, these documents usually concern trade and the granting of provisions or the requests to right injustices. Those contacts were often initiated by Christian parties. First, we have a number of diplomatic correspondences (mukātabāt) that discuss and negotiate trading provisions for European merchants; these are mostly in Italy and Spain.75 In addition to letters, we also have a number of treaties making those agreements official.76 These two categories of documents concerned foreign relationships between the Mamluks and European mercantile powers. Other types of documents include petitions (qiṣaṣ) and decrees (marsūm) involving the Christian and Jewish communities living in Mamluk territory. Though this type of contact is usually studied in the framework of internal policy, and thus independently of any diplomatic framework, they show a specific type of contact between Mamluk rulers and the (non-)Muslim communities living in their midst.77 While we are fortunate to have these documents, it should also be noted that due to their limited number, most of them have been edited and studied in more or less detail. As we see in this article, however, many aspects of the contacts illustrated in these documents have been neglected. These documents can, therefore, be integrated into a broader global study of Mamluk diplomacy. Moreover, some of the earlier scholarship must be reevaluated and sometimes corrected in light of recent, newer work in the field.78

74 75 76 77 78

Also see Bauden, Mamlūk era documentary studies, for a more general presentation of Mamluk documentary collections. Ibid. and also Bauden in this volume. Wansbrough, The safe-conduct. Stern, Petitions; Richards, Mamluk administrative documents. See Frantz-Murphy’s and Rizzo’s contributions in this volume.

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

125

While these documents are of great importance as testaments to Mamluk diplomacy with non-Muslim partners,79 they can also help us to better understand some of the practicalities of such relations. Because the Arabic versions of the documents are often supplemented with translations into European languages (mostly Italian), we can, for example, better grasp the reality of the work of translators and interpreters—for which we would otherwise have very little information.80 While this may tell us more about the recipients’ practices than those of the Mamluks themselves, collaboration—and the mutual approval of documents—between chanceries is evident. Furthermore, those translations illustrate the specific skills and practices of the chancery, and also attest to the great exchange and transfer of techniques and terms from one side to the other (mostly from Arabic to Italian chanceries). Though it would be an exaggeration to speak of the existence of a lingua franca, a good common ground and culture that facilitated communication certainly existed.81 Finally, because they were kept in their original form, these documents are of great relevance for the study of chancery practices and Mamluk diplomatics. Indeed, it is particularly important to compare them to the descriptions and rules in chancery manuals, but also to the numerous copies of diplomatic letters kept in those manuals or in collections made by secretaries. In the first part of this article, the question of the reliability of those copies is briefly discussed. One way to verify the potential of the copies as ‘documentary sources’ is to compare them to the existing documents and evaluate to what extent theory and practice match. In many cases, scholars have been able to show that internal and external features described in the copies and the manuals match existing samples of original documents. It should therefore be stressed that a good knowledge of Mamluk diplomatics is essential to working with those documents, be they originals or copies, so that one can first judge their potential authenticity. In addition to original documents, the Mamluk period also left us a great number of copies kept in collections of chancery production (munshaʾāt) and manuals. Whereas the original documents exclusively concern the relations between the Mamluks and their non-Muslim correspondents, the chancery collections and manuals deal more extensively with Mamluks’ contact with the

79 80 81

This is particularly important since Mamluk-Christian contacts are rarely mentioned in the chronicles, or at least not in regard to the contents of those exchanges. Save for al-Durubī’s work on the translators: al-Durubī, Muqqadima. For more on this, see Wansbrough, Lingua franca; Brett, Lingua franca; and Moukarzel’s contribution in this volume.

126

dekkiche

Muslim world—for which we have no originals.82 These works are therefore crucial for our understanding of Islamic diplomacy as practiced by the Mamluk sultanate. The first category, munshaʾāt, usually only contain copies of documents (mostly, but not exclusively letters) that were produced by the Mamluk chancery or addressed to the sultans. In addition to the copies of the text of the documents, the secretary who originated the collection also recorded information concerning specific aspects of the original document, such as the format of the paper, ink color, honorific titles, and additional examples of invocations and formulas that could be used with specific rulers.83 Because most munshaʾāt were kept in manuscript form, scholars have long neglected them. The edition of Ibn Ḥijja’s Qahwat al-inshāʾ however, marked a transition. Other collections are known, but remain understudied.84 While Ibn Ḥijja’s work includes documents from the early ninth/fifteenth century, the MS ar. 4440 (BnF, Paris) extends the collection with numerous letters from the mid-ninth/fifteenth century, though the latter are only partly edited. Unlike the munshaʾāt, Mamluk chancery manuals are better known and more extensively used. Chancery manuals not only preserved numerous copies of documents, but they also often explained the rules peculiar to their drafting. Some address the art of the chancery more broadly speaking, detailing not only its production, but also its function, the employees in the chancery and their skills and knowledge. This is particularly the case of the ninth-/fifteenth-century encyclopedic work of al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā fī ṣināʿat al-inshāʾ, which concentrates on the Mamluk period, but also includes earlier eras. Secretaries of the Mamluk period seem to have been quite prolific in this genre, and those works have been extensively used by scholars; this is particularly true, for example, of the eighth-/fourteenth-century Taʿrīf of Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī and the Tathqīf of Ibn Naẓīr al-Jaysh. More recently, two ninth-/fifteenth-century manuals were brought to light and are now used, the al-Thaghr al-bāsim of al-Saḥmāwī, and the Qalāʾid al-jumān, by Ibn al-Qalqashandī.85 First and foremost, these documentary sources provide us with the contents of the documents, and inform us of the motives for the initiation of diplo-

82 83 84 85

Save for the two original letters from the Qara Qoyunlu and the Rasulids found in alMaqrīzī’s holograph manuscripts. See Bauden’s introduction to this volume. For a broader discussion, see my chapter in this volume, as well as my PhD dissertation, Le Caire. For the list of other manuals, see Bauden’s introduction in this volume. Al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim (previously known as al-Maqṣid al-rafīʿ al-munshaʾ alhādī li-dīwān al-inshāʾ by al-Khālidī, also just called Dīwān al-inshāʾ); Ibn al-Qalqashandī, Qalāʾid al-jumān.

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

127

matic contacts with the Mamluks. While these motives are sometimes mentioned in the chronicles (see below), the letters provide details by which to corroborate or correct that data. The many letters show the variety of occasions that could produce a contact. This is particularly striking when looking at the correspondence exchanged between the Mamluks and their Muslim counterparts. Indeed, if Mamluk relationships with Christian entities seem to be mostly restricted to trade interests and truces, those with Muslim rulers show a much broader range of interactions. While issues of war, peace, and trade are often mentioned, alliances, marriages, the protection of pilgrims, travelers, and scholars, exchanges of favors and commodities, memorable announcements, etc. are also on the agenda. Looking at the great spectrum of possible contacts between rulers, one of the main goals of diplomacy in fact seems to be maintaining communication between realms. Other important data are usually mentioned in these documents, such as the identity of the ambassadors and the purpose of their missions—often communicated orally to the sultan—, or the list of the gifts that accompanied the mission. Often such documents were dated, and mention validation marks. In the case of Mamluk responses, we can also learn a great deal about the receptions that were given to foreign missions, as well as the identities of the Mamluk emissaries in charge of taking the embassy back home. Much of this information is crucial to our knowledge of Mamluk diplomatic practices, especially since we rarely find them recounted in such detail in other types of sources. Chancery manuals are thus important because they contain copies of documents that are no longer extant. But they also provide a thorough description of the chancery from the inside, including its actors and its rules. Chancery manuals are also a crucial tool to help us investigate the complex machinery that dealt with diplomatic relationships. They focus extensively on describing the rules for drafting documents; indeed, chancery rules were primarily based on protocols that related to the status of the correspondents.86 As a prerequisite for their position, secretaries were supposed to be well-versed in the countries and realms of those who would potentially enter into contact with the Mamluk sultans. Based on this knowledge, secretaries ranked most powers and translated their status into specific drafting rules. Some of those rules can be found in the text of the document itself, such as the honorific titles or invocations used with the various interlocutors, but in fact, these texts, first and foremost, apply to the external features of the documents, and therefore provide us with

86

Dekkiche, Diplomatics, in this volume.

128

dekkiche

insight into the non-verbal communication that took place.87 Since this rule of status influenced all aspects of the diplomatic process, understanding the guidelines set by the secretaries is essential. On a more basic level, this guideline also reveals much about the recognized actors who were allowed to participate in the diplomatic game. Indeed, while today it is well understood that diplomacy takes place between sovereign states, premodern diplomacy during the Mamluk period was not so strictly delineated. As Garrett Mattingly points out, “The right of embassy was not spoken of in theory or regarded in practice as diplomatic representation, a symbolic attribute of sovereignty.”88 If the rules of status are by now well recognized by scholars, those pertaining to the right of embassy remain understudied. This question is, in my opinion, essential for understanding the broader issues at play, such as state formation and recognition, and how premodern Islamic states used the international arena to gain legitimacy. While scholars, in large part, have concentrated on the study of diplomatic relationships between heads of states, our documents show that diplomacy took place at various levels and often involved less prestigious (i.e., governors) figures or even contentious (i.e., rebels) actors. Including these actors in our research allows us to study informal diplomacy. Finally, chancery manuals provide a great deal of information about the internal structure of the chancery and the officials involved in the diplomatic process.89 Although secretaries were essential for drafting documents, they were even more active behind the scenes. In fact, there were many other agents involved at the various levels of the process. Those around the sultan, usually men of the sword (i.e., dawādār, ḥajīb al-ḥujjāb), were often recognized as important figures in the formal diplomacy that took place in the capital; they participated in events such as the welcoming of the embassies and their reception. They acted mostly as intermediaries between the mission and the sultan. However, chancery manuals also suggest that those officials were in fact even more active in informal networks. For example, they were in charge of intelligence, the choice of the ambassadors, the informal negotiations, etc. Though such figures are often mentioned en passant by scholars, they are worthy of more thorough investigation, as they seem to have played a central role in diplomatic interactions. A study of these actors would likely reveal a great deal about the link between foreign policy and the internal ambitions of state officials in

87 88 89

See also Reinfandt, Strong letters, in this volume. Mattingly, Renaissance diplomacy 26. This is particularly true of the works of al-Qalqashandī and al-Saḥmāwī.

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

129

the Mamluk sultanate. The information contained in the chancery manuals is crucial in that respect, especially if it is contextualized with narrative sources, such as the chronicles and biographical dictionaries. In the previous section I discussed the relevance of the chronicles and biographical dictionaries for the study of premodern Islamic diplomacy. The Mamluk period is characterized by the number and variety of such works, which are too long to enumerate in this article.90 Although the history of the entire period is well covered by these chronicles, we must bear in mind that most of them focus on events in the capital, Cairo, and only rarely on the provinces. Unfortunately, the Syrian chronicles that we have contain less information on diplomatic exchanges, and when they do, there are fewer details. Though the Cairo-centric vision of Mamluk diplomacy might be frustrating for scholars who want to learn about conditions outside the capital, the bias in the sources is not surprising when we consider that most embassies were received in the citadel, the ultimate seat of power of the sultan. Another factor to keep in mind when working on the chronicles is that they usually describe the exceptional embassies in more detail; that is to say, those embassies that attracted the most attention, or that were unusual in some way were naturally written about more vividly. Luckily, there were many such embassies, in which events, including diplomatic exchanges, are described day by day. They usually start with the arrival of embassy at the gate of Cairo, they mention the identity and status of the welcoming delegation, the residence granted, the delay before the reception at the citadel, the identity of the emissaries, the gifts exchanged, the festivities and foods offered, the departure ceremonies, and the identity of the Mamluk emissary in charge of accompanying the mission back home. Other exchanges lack such lengthy descriptions, and at best mention the day an embassy from a given realm arrived. Whereas most, if not all, chronicles recorded arrivals and receptions of foreign embassies, they do not always agree on details, such as the dates, the identity of the emissaries, or the purposes of the mission. With luck, the information found in the chronicles can be compared with the documents or copies of letters found in the chancery manuals or munshaʾāt. Another way to evaluate the accuracy of the information from the chronicles is to compare them with sources (chronicles or other documents) from the dynasty or power involved in those exchanges. Most of these bilateral studies show that the data found in Mamluk historiography was, to a large extent, trustworthy.

90

The articles included in this volume make use of most of the extant chronicles of the Mamluk period.

130

dekkiche

The chronicles contain a great deal about the reception of foreign embassies at the Mamluk court, the ceremonial, the game of power and wealth displayed by the sultans, and the pretension of the interlocutors, but they rarely recorded Mamluk diplomacy as initiated by the sultanate. As noted, we are sometimes fortunate to find a reference to a Mamluk emissary who went back with a foreign mission, but the chronicles are too often silent on the departure of Mamluk embassies initiated from Cairo. This leaves us with a limited picture of Mamluk diplomacy, one in which the Mamluks are presented strictly as recipients and never as the initiators of diplomatic exchanges. We are therefore missing an important aspect of Mamluk practice, especially in matters involved in those contacts, the diplomatic agents used and dispatched by Cairo, and the departure ceremonies of those emissaries. Although their identity is sometimes mentioned in copies of letters or even in the chronicles, it would be worthwhile to thoroughly analyze the biographical dictionaries of the Mamluk period in order to determine the identity of those agents. In fact, scholars often use prosopographical works to identify the status and identity of the emissaries mentioned in other sources, but those works have not yet been investigated independently. The constitution and use of a prosopographical database would greatly facilitate such research and enable us to shed light on the individuals who are not explicitly mentioned in the chronicles. Travelogues are another type of source worth considering when studying the diplomatic relationships between the Mamluks and the foreign world. While the genre is not very widespread in the Islamic world (save for the famous travels of Ibn Baṭṭūṭa), European travelers visiting the holy lands wrote prolifically. Along with recording the hazards and risks of travel, the habits and customs of the lands they passed through, and thoroughly describing the holy places, travelers were sometimes given the chance to witness the arrival and even on occasion, see the reception of a foreign ambassador. Because of the pomp and splendor displayed in the capital, but also mostly because of the originality of what they saw, those pilgrims left us with relevant accounts of the diplomatic practices in Cairo, with details and anecdotes rarely mentioned in Arabic sources. In addition to these, some European emissaries—especially Italians—kept memoirs or diaries; these not only describe the reception at the citadel but perhaps even more importantly, the events preceding and following them. Accounts such as the diary of Felice Brancacci or the travel account of Felix Fabri are of great value, but unfortunately, few studies have been made on their perspectives of Mamluk diplomatic practice. While the Mamluk period is, as described above, quite well documented in terms of the study of diplomacy and diplomatic relationships, two specific

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

131

genres mentioned in the previous sections—the mirror for princes literature and legal works focused on jihād or siyar—are missing or, at the least, seriously neglected. When compared to other genres, it seems that the mirror for princes and advice for kings literature were less common during the Mamluk period, but there are still many important works. Moreover, while they did not, strictly speaking, belong to that genre, chancery manuals such as that of alQalqashandī include many sections very similar to the advice for princes. While these sections are often used by scholars, this comes at the cost of neglecting the true ‘mirrors for princes.’ One exception is Āthār al-uwal fī tartīb al-duwal by al-ʿAbbāsī (d. aft. 709/1309), whose short chapter on the emissaries of the kings is often quoted in the context of diplomatic studies. The Mamluk period, however, includes many more works that are still waiting to be investigated, such as that of Ibn ʿArabshāh (d. 854/1450),91 or the works by al-ʿAynī,92 Ibn Nubāta,93 al-Kāshgharī94 and al-Qudsī.95 Whereas this type of literature is usually considered normative, the examples taken from al-Qalqashandī and al-ʿAbbāsī show some major differences when compared to earlier mirrors for princes. In both cases, they provide us with updated information on the choice of messengers, their role, and the way they should be treated. A full investigation of this type of work would be required in order evaluate the place of diplomacy as an attribute of the ruler and the evolution of this role over time, in the broader political scene. While jihād policy constitutes a major element of Mamluk legitimacy and rise to power, it is surprising how little scholars have focused on the legal works of the period, with the notable exception of Ibn Taymiyya in the early eighth/fourteenth century. Ibn Taymiyya’s famous fatwās established against the Mongols and the Christians represent the benchmark for the study of jihād in the period; his fatwās are indeed highly relevant for a study of diplomacy,96 in particular to understand the evolution of Muslims’ relationship to foreign entities, be they Muslim or not. While Ibn Taymiyya’s work is certainly essential, the Mamluk period witnessed the production of many other works devoted to jihād and to faḍāʾil (merits), works that, so far, have not been considered in the framework of diplomatic studies.97 Instead, scholars have concentrated on

91 92 93 94 95 96 97

Ibn ʿArabshāh, Fākihat al-khulafāʾ and al-Taʾlīf al-ṭāhir. Al-ʿAynī, al-Sayf al-muhannad and al-Rawḍ al-zāhir. Ibn Nubāta, Kitāb Sulūk duwal al-mulūk. Al-Kāshghārī, Tāj al-saʿāda (in 764/1363). Al-Qudsī (d. 888/1483), Badhl al-naṣāʾiḥ. This last work is also considered a ḥisba manual. Michot, Un important témoin; Michot, Ibn Taymiyya; Aigle, The Mongol invasions. These works, however, have been used in studies on jihād and martyrdom. See these pri-

132

dekkiche

studying the jihād rhetoric that was developed during the period; this rhetoric can be found in letters and other documents kept in copies in al-Qalqashandī’s work and that of other collections, as well as the chronicles. While studying the propagandistic—and legitimizing—aspects of these texts is in fact quite appropriate to gain an understating about the sultanate in general, and its claims regarding foreign (non-Muslim) entities in particular, a proper study of Mamluk jihād manuals is essential in order to obtain a more accurate picture of diplomacy at this time. After all, Ibn Taymiyya’s legal opinions are only representative of the Ḥanbalī school, and were a response to specific events. Thus, while jihād and faḍāʾil works should be investigated, they only constitute one side of the story, a theoretical side. As the example of Ibn Taymiyya shows, scholars may find more practical responses to external relationships in the fatwā collections.98 In that respect al-Subkī’s fatwā on the status of foreigners in Mamluk Egypt and Syria is a good example.99 Be that as it may, with regard to the study of Mamluk diplomatic relationships with foreign rulers or groups, research so far concentrates mostly on diplomatic encounters in the context of Mamluk jihād policy. Though the survey of the various categories of sources illustrates the potential and wide range of possibilities for the study of Mamluk diplomacy, scholars in the field have, for a long time, concentrated their efforts on the belligerent aspects of the process. As previously mentioned, this is, in fact, not surprising, given the nature of the sources that focus on the great accomplishments of the sultanate. Furthermore, while asserting their legitimacy, the Mamluks used this warlike rhetoric to consolidate their prestige in the eyes of the Muslim community. Studies focused on the crusaders and the Mongol ilkhanate thus represent the major studies on Mamluk ‘diplomacy.’ Second, scholars have devoted a great deal of attention to the commercial aspect of Mamluk relations with Christian powers, such as the Italians and the Spanish. Once more, the main reason for this interest is the abundance of documentary sources accessible in European archives. While the available bibliography on Mamluk diplomacy is rather restricted, in terms of the themes studied, in the last decade, its scope has greatly expanded,

98

99

mary works: Ibn Jamāʿa, Taḥrīr al-aḥkām; Ibn al-Naḥḥās, Mashāriʿ al-ashwāq; al-Miknāsī, Kitāb fīhi faḍāʾil; al-Suyūṭī, Arbaʿūn ḥadīthan; al-Biqāʿī, al-Istishhād; al-Sulāmī, Aḥkām aljihād; Ibn Kathīr, al-Ijtihād fī ṭalab al-jihād. To my knowledge, for the earlier periods, these collections have not been studied in the context of diplomacy (unlike for later periods, such as that of the Ottomans). Whether these collections will prove relevant is yet unclear, but a preliminary survey should, at least, be established. Atiya, An unpublished XIVth-century fatwā.

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

133

with increasing focus being given to the symbolic aspects of foreign relations (verbal or non-verbal), the multiplicity and diversity of the realms and powers contacted, the study of the diplomatic agents involved, and the material culture surrounding the exchanges, etc. In the next section, I review past and current research in the field.

4

Mamluk Diplomacy: the Present State of Research

A quick look at the Mamluk bibliography online established at the University of Chicago shows that the study of the foreign relations of the Mamluk sultanate has been well covered so far, with some 1,891 references on this topic. This category includes all the works—articles or monographs—published in various languages,100 that deal with ‘foreign relations,’ generally or specifically. Two categories in the primary sources browser are also devoted to treaties and administrative manuals, in which we find additional references not included in foreign relations. As I cannot review all these contributions in this article, I limit myself to a review of the most common themes tackled by scholars in the field, and focus on the most recent scholarship.101 4.1 Mamluks and Non-Muslim Powers As noted, the topic that has most attracted scholars’ attention is that of the Mamluks’ relationship with non-Muslim powers, either Mongol or Christian— that is, the powers against which the Mamluks exercised their jihād policies. Though the Mamluk policy on jihād has been examined by scholars of the Mamluk period in general, studies on jihād in the more specific context of international relationships are more rare.102 Such studies are usually integrated into the scope of Mamluks’ relations with non-Muslims. However, a closer look at those contributions shows that the belligerent aspect of foreign relations is most often found in the framework of Mamluk-Mongol relations, whereas

100 101

102

With the exception of the scholarship in Japanese. For the sake of brevity, I only name some of the major specialists here, and note the works that are the most relevant in the framework of diplomacy. Whenever possible, I favor recent scholarship, in which an updated bibliography can be found. I apologize in advance for the names that were left out in this article. These can, however, be found in the Mamluk bibliography online. These can be found in general works on jihād, such as Bonner, Jihad, and Heck, “Jihād” revisited, or in the more specific contributions of Petry, Holy war; and Frenkel, Jihād. Also see the scholarship in Arabic: ʿĀshūr, al-Jihād al-islāmī.

134

dekkiche

research on Mamluk-Christian relations mostly focuses on the study of the treaties concluded with the crusaders (i.e., truces) and with the mercantile powers (i.e., agreements, decrees). 4.1.1 Mongols Among the many scholars who have dealt with Mamluk-Mongol relations, especially with the Mongol Ilkhanids, the most recognized are Reuven Amitai, Denise Aigle, and more recently Anne Broadbridge. Because of the constant threat that the Ilkhanids represented for the Mamluk sultanate, and the many ways in which it was expressed, either directly on the battlefield or indirectly through the exchange of messengers and letters, Mamluk-Mongol relations are a fertile field of research. Those exchanges and contacts are well described in both Mamluk and Ilkhanid sources, and chancery secretaries often integrated the correspondences exchanged by the two realms into their manuals. Thus far, the more warlike aspects of their relations have drawn the most scholarly attention: studies detail the military aspects of their wars, the impact of war on the Mamluk province of Syria and the frontiers, and the various actors involved, as well as the “psychological warfare”103 that was part of the conflict. Amitai’s Mongols and Mamluks: The Mamluk-Ilkhānīd war, 1260–1281, and more recently his Holy war and rapprochement: Studies in the relations between the Mamluk sultanate and the Mongol ilkhanate (1260–1335) are outstanding contributions to the scholarship on these topics.104 If the study of the practicalities of the Mamluk-Ilkhanid wars are important for our understanding of the relations between these two powers, scholars are even more attracted to the ideologies developed by these powers, ideologies that were at the basis of the conflict. These can be found in the accounts of the exchanges of embassies and letters between the two realms. It is in this context that jihād policy and rhetoric is best illustrated. Scholars have demonstrated the conflict and opposition that existed between Mongol and Islamic ideologies and discourse, as well as the struggle for legitimacy and supremacy that was at the basis of the argument. This theme of legitimacy became even more important after the Ilkhanids’ conversion to Islam under Aḥmad Tegüder (d. 1284)105 and Ghāzān (d. 1304),106 as their con-

103 104

105 106

This concept was developed by Amitai. Cf. bibliography below. Also see Amitai, Muslim-Mongol diplomacy. Amitai’s lengthy bibliography can be found in the Mamluk bibliography online. Arabic scholars have also produced numerous monographs on the topic. Allouche, Tegüder’s ultimatum; Pfeiffer, Aḥmad Tegüder’s second letter. Amitai, Mongol imperial ideology; Amitai, An exchange of letters; Aigle (ed.), Le Bilād al-

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

135

versions gave rise to a great display of diplomacy. In that context, scholars have thoroughly studied the contents of the letters, the role of negotiation,107 the ambassadors who acted as diplomatic agents108 and their receptions,109 but also issues of espionage and misinformation.110 In addition to these diplomatic features, scholars have discussed the legal issues involved in Mamluk-Ilkhanid relations, as is best illustrated through the studies of Ibn Taymiyya’s fatwās.111 After the official conversion of the Ilkhanids to Islam, a new set of diplomatic relationships was inaugurated between the Mongols and the Mamluks. In that respect, Anne Broadbridge’s Kingship and ideology in the Islamic and Mongol worlds, is outstanding, since she not only tackles the earlier phases of their contact—with a strong focus on diplomacy rather than war—but also because she analyzes, in depth, the evolution of their relationship after the Ilkhanids converted to Islam. Her study of the relations of al-Nāṣir Muḥammad and Abū Saʿīd is very valuable and shows the display and practice of diplomacy after each realm recognized the other. She successfully shows how the scope of diplomacy during more peaceful times expanded to include issues of marriage and trade, and how the arena of conflict moved from the battlefield to the holy sites of Islam.112 Furthermore, rather than just focusing on the events themselves, Broadbridge highlights the processes involved in their exchanges and the structure of Mamluk-Mongol diplomacy, as well as the symbolic use of diplomacy in general. In the framework of Mamluk-Ilkhanid diplomatic studies generally and diplomatic agents particularly, the studies mentioned above, as well as many others, have long hinted at the role of affinities, loyalties, and ethnicity.113 In this volume, Broadbridge’s chapter entitled “Careers in diplomacy” expands the topic further and makes an important contribution to the issue of the role of the rulers’ entourage as diplomatic agents. Another innovative aspect of diplomacy is greatly highlighted by Amitai’s chapter “Mamluk-Ilkhanid diplomatic contacts,” which examines the Mamluks’ use of foreign relations for internal purposes and an internal audience.

107 108 109 110 111 112 113

Šām; Aigle, Les invasions de Ghāzān Khān; Broadbridge, Mamluk legitimacy; Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology. Amitai, The resolution, as well as his contribution in this volume. Horst, Eine Gesandschaft; Little, Notes on Aitamiš; Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology, as well as her contribution in this volume. Holt, The Īlkhān Aḥmad’s embassies; Little, Diplomatic missions. Amitai, Mamlūk espionage. Aigle, The Mongol invasions; Michot, Un important témoin. Melville, “The year of the elephant”. Amitai, Northern Syria; Halperin, The Kipchak connection; Wiet, Un réfugié mamlouk.

136

dekkiche

4.1.2 Crusaders While scholars working on diplomatic relations with the non-Muslim world have been most prolific when addressing Mamluk-Ilkhanid relationships, the Mamluks’ relations with the crusaders has also received considerable attention. Most of this research can be found in the general field of crusade studies, but several important contributions were produced in Mamluk studies as well. It is, after all, in that context that the Mamluks first came to rule; they gained the greatest prestige by putting an end to the crusader states in the Levant (690/1291). While the Mamluks’ jihād policy is well recognized as the basis of Mamluk relations with the crusaders, most studies devoted to that field concentrate on the diplomatic aspect of those contacts, such as the resolution of conflict and the establishment of treaties. The belligerent side of the MamlukFrank relationship and their more general history can be found in the general works or articles on the crusades, such as those by Norman Housley, Carole Hillenbrand, Jonathan Philips, Aziz Suryal Atiya, as well as Robert Irwin, Stephen Humphreys, and Paul M. Cobb.114 As for the evolution of their relations after the fall of Acre—the so-called Later Crusades, this theme has been studied more by Europeanists than by Mamluk scholars.115 Among the major contributions to the study of Mamluk-crusader diplomatic relationships, I would first mention the work of Michael Köhler, published in 1991.116 Unlike the scholarship of the time, it focused strictly on the alliances and treaties concluded between Muslim rulers (Ayyubids and Mamluks) and the crusaders. It presents a different approach to the intricate relationships between the two groups, one not based on antagonism, but one that is more nuanced and focused on the realpolitik. While Köhler’s work covers the Ayyubid period in detail, that of Peter M. Holt specializes in the MamlukFrankish diplomatic relationship. Since the late 1970s, he has concentrated his efforts on the publication, translation, and analysis of all the peace treaties signed between Frankish rulers and the Mamluks that were kept in the chronicles and chancery manuals. In addition to his many articles on the topic,117 he 114

115 116 117

The scholarship in this field in Arabic is also quite prolific. Unfortunately, I did not have access to it for the current article. For Housley, Philips, and Atiya’s works, see Mamluk bibliography online. Hillenbrand, Crusades; Humphreys, Ayyubids, Mamluks, and the Latin east; Irwin, The Mamlūk conquest; Irwin, Islam and the crusades; Cobb, The race for paradise. For example, see the bibliography of Housley, Philips, and Atiya (Mamluk bibliography online). The work was originally published in German in 1991; it was translated into English by Peter Holt in 2013. Köhler, Alliances and treaties. The following are among Holt’s works: Baybars’s treaty; Mamluk-Frankish diplomatic

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

137

also published, in 1995, Early Mamluk diplomacy (1260–1290); this text remains a reference in the field today.118 Other scholars have produced similar studies concentrating on various treaties and letters; these scholars include Urbain Vermeulen119 and Donald Richards.120 Finally, Anne Troadec has recently studied a sample of these letters and their use for internal Mamluk audiences.121 Several themes are central to such studies. While I have stated that scholars have concentrated more on the diplomatic than the warlike aspect of Mamlukcrusader relations, most have nevertheless attempted to understand the basis of such relations, the conditions allowing the conclusion of such treaties, and their modalities. Such studies feature legal discussions on Muslim-Christian relations, the possible duration of the treaties, and the issues of witnesses and oaths. Those discussions are highly relevant since they demonstrate the difficult relationship between Islamic theory (i.e., jihād) and practice (i.e., compromise), but above all, they show the primacy of diplomacy over war. Although treaties were only established temporarily, due to specific circumstances of internal and external threats, they nevertheless show that the Mamluks had at their disposal efficient means to achieve peace and compromise. Alongside this focus on the documents themselves and the rules peculiar to their establishment and drafting, the contents of these texts also received much scholarly attention. They offer a great deal of information about the issues at stake between the two parties, such as the division of lands into condominia and the division of resources, the exchanges or ransom of prisoners, the rules of conduct of each party, etc., but more importantly, most documents mention the issue of safe-passage for merchants and travelers, and above all, the protection of trade. Before moving on to the commercial aspects of Mamluk-Christian relations, I address three more cases that should be considered in the framework of the crusades and jihād policy: Armenia, Rhodes, and Cyprus. The first case is, in fact, closely linked to both the Mongols and the crusaders, and therefore Mamluk relations with the kingdom of Armenia was greatly influenced by its relation with the other two. In contrast, the cases of Rhodes and Cyprus could be

118 119 120 121

relations in the reign of Baybars; Mamluk-Frankish diplomatic relations in the reign of Qalāwūn; Qalāwūn’s treaty with Acre; Qalāwūn’s treaty with the Latin kingdom; The treaties of the early Mamluk sultans; and Treaties. Holt, Early Mamluk Diplomacy. Vermeulen, Le traité d’ armistice entre le sultan Baybars et les Hospitaliers; Vermeulen, Le traité d’ armistice relatif à al-Marqab. Richards, A late Mamluk document. Troadec, La lettre de Baybars.

138

dekkiche

fully integrated in the crusades section, since they involved the military order of the Hospitallers, and the Lusignan House respectively. 4.1.3 Armenia While the scholarship on the diplomatic relations between the Mamluks and Armenia is limited, the studies that do exist cover the topic quite well.122 A central issue in those studies is, of course, the jihād launched by the Mamluks against the Armenian kingdom as a consequence of its loyalty to the Mongols and its sympathy for the Franks. Therefore, the history of Mamluk-Armenia relations is closely intermingled with that of the Mamluks, the Mongols, and the Franks. This is particularly well illustrated in the works of Marius Canard,123 and more recently in the research of Angus Donald Stewart.124 The latter is particularly interesting because of its focus, not only on wars, but also on the exchange of diplomatic missions between the two realms. While his approach is traditional,125 Stewart nevertheless successfully shows the intricacies of such diplomatic contacts—as well as its risks—and the importance of both parties’ common interest in trade as the basis for truces. Unlike the next two regions, the Armenian case shows that diplomacy was an efficient means for maintaining balance in the region, in contrast to the methods of traditional jihād. 4.1.4 Rhodes and Cyprus Scholarship on Rhodes and Cyprus follows a more traditional approach to the islands’ relations with the Mamluks, and focuses primarily on conflict. Very few studies have dealt with the case of Rhodes, and those that do usually focus on the Mamluk expeditions there.126 One exception is Nicholas Coureas’s article on commerce between the two realms.127 By contrast, Cyprus has been written about much more, though primarily in the context of the crusades, as Peter W. Edbury’s numerous studies show.128 If the role of Cyprus as a starting point for the crusades is often mentioned in those studies, its role in the Alexandrian

122 123 124 125 126 127 128

Gilet, Genèse des relations; Tadmurī, al-Mamālīk wa-Armīniyya al-ṣughrā; ʿĀshūr, Salṭanat al-mamālīk. Canard, Le royaume d’ Arménie-Cilicie. Stewart, The Armenian kingdom; Stewart, The logic of conquest. By traditional, I mean the study of diplomacy in the context of conflict. Bosworth, Arab attacks; Ḥabashī, The Egyptian expeditions; Rabīʿ, Mamlūk campaigns; Tadmurī, Ghazawāt al-Muslimīn. Coureas, Commerce. Edbury, The Lusignan kingdom of Cyprus; Edbury, The crusading policy; Edbury, The kingdom of Cyprus.

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

139

crusade (767/1365)129 and the subsequent Mamluk conquest of the island130 in the following century has attracted even more attention. This scholarship mostly focuses on the military aspects of those events, and on Mamluk patronage of the islands. While the study of the conflict has long predominated the field, recent research includes diplomatic aspects of that relationship as well.131 Nicholas Coureas is quite prolific in that respect.132 His studies include not only issues of conflict resolution, tribute, and trade, but also tackle diplomatic exchanges, envoys, and ceremonial issues. His chapter in this volume, “Envoys between Lusignan Cyprus and Mamluk Egypt,” further expands his research on the topic with a thorough analysis of the social status of the envoys dispatched between the two courts. Lastly, due to its strategic position, Cyprus held an important role in the commercial scene as well, particularly for the Italian mercantile powers of Genoa and Venice. With Venetian dominion of the islands in the late ninth/fifteenth century, Cyprus’s relations with the Mamluks came to focus increasingly on the commercial interests of the two parties. Scholarship has not neglected this aspect.133 This last point leads us to the next, since, as we have noted, while the Mamluks’ relationship with the Christian powers was, supposedly, strictly dominated by their jihād policies, in practice, they concluded many peaceful agreements and treaties with those powers. While scholarship has long concentrated on the realpolitik as the basis for such peace (i.e., internal conflict within the sultanate and external Mongol threats), it has recently begun to include the commercial aspects underlying those relations as well. The commercial basis of Mamluk-Christian relations has long been recognized, especially with regard to the study of the contacts between the sultanate and the Italian and Spanish mercantile powers that dominated the economic scene. Over time, other European powers attempted to establish contact with Egypt and to negotiate provisions. Pierre Moukarzel’s contribution in the present volume, “European embassies to the court of the Mamluk sultans in Cairo,” presents an overview of these contacts. His focus on their modalities during the receptions, as well as on the development of a common diplomatic culture (through the drafting of the documents) is particularly valuable. 129 130 131 132 133

Van Steenbergen, The Alexandrian crusade (1365). Moukarzel, Les expéditions militaires; Richard, L’état de guerre; Ziyādah, The Mamluk conquest. Ouerfelli, Les Relations; Christides, Cyprus. Among Coureas’s works are the following: Envoys; Latin Cyprus; Losing the war; Mamluks in the Cypriot chronicle; The dispatch of envoys; The tribute paid; The Coptic presence. Coureas, Trade; Coureas, Commercial relations; Edbury, Cyprus, commerce; Arbel, Venetian Cyprus.

140

dekkiche

4.1.5 European Mercantile Powers A number of general studies have tackled the role of Egypt in the Mediterranean and in Levant trade in the premodern period. In that respect, David Abulafia134 and Eliyahu Ashtor135 are the most well-known. There are, of course, many other studies, established by both Europeanists and Arabists, that not only focus on commerce in the broad sense, but also on other aspects, such as the monetary136 and material137 features of that trade, or piracy.138 More importantly for us, scholars have also devoted attention to the dynamics that ruled the contacts between trading partners; they have studied aspects of the struggle and the Europeans’ negotiation in the race for favors granted by the Mamluk sultanate.139 Though the question of trade is central in those studies, the mercantile community itself has also received considerable attention. Indeed, there are numerous studies on the status of those communities living and trading in the Mamluk realm, their consulates, their organizations, and their infrastructures.140 Along with those general studies, each trading community has been the focus of independent research. The Italians, and especially the Venetians, are at the top of this list. 4.1.6 Venice Venice’s trading supremacy with the Mamluk sultanate is well known, so too is its role in the transport of Christian pilgrims to the holy lands.141 Their relations have long been studied by both Italianists and Mamluk scholars, thanks to the numerous documents recording the letters and treaties drafted over time between the two parties. Eliyahu Ashtor, the well-known special-

134 135 136 137 138 139 140

141

Abulafia, Marseilles; Abulafia, The impact of the Orient; Abulafia, The Levant trade. For a complete bibliography, see Mamluk bibliography online. Ashtor, East–West trade; Ashtor, Levant trade; Ashtor, Studies on the Levantine trade. For a complete bibliography, see Mamluk bibliography online. Bacharach, The dinar versus the ducat; Irwin, The supply of money. Nicolle, The manufacture; Rogers, To and fro; Ashtor, L’exportation de textiles occidentaux. Fuess, Verbranntes Ufer; Fuess, Handel und Piraterie. Coulon, Négocier avec les sultans; Raymond, Conflits maritimes; Arbel, Levantine power struggles. Apellániz Banquiers; Jacoby, Les Italiens en Égypte; Mansouri, Les communautés marchandes occidentales; Valérian, Les marchands latins; Valérian, Le fondouk; Constable, Funduq and fondaco; Constable, Housing the stranger; Sennoune, Fondouks, khans et wakalas. This point has not, however, been studied in the framework of diplomacy. See, for example, Ashtor, Venezia e il pellegrinaggio; Jacoby, Pèlerinage médiéval; Roncaglia, La République de Venise.

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

141

ist of Levant trade, has devoted numerous studies to Venice. Over the years, many other scholars have tried to understand the patterns and structures of Venetian trade with the Mamluks.142 Those studies deal primarily with trade, and discuss the commodities involved, as well as the provisions negotiated. The process by which trade agreements were reached has also been studied. In addition, numerous studies on diplomacy in that period have been produced; these diplomatic studies are traditional in nature (treaties and letters with historical and diplomatic commentaries), and, in recent years, take new approaches that resemble more closely those of the new diplomatic history (with a focus on the process and the agents involved). The first group is well illustrated by John Wansbrough’s studies of the topic.143 The edition and translation in such studies not only make the documents available to a broad audience, but their additional diplomatic and historical analysis also give us a great deal of information about the modalities of negotiations and the drafting and translation of the documents, and more broadly speaking, about the diplomatic practice established between the two powers and the issues at stake.144 Gladys Frantz-Murphy’s chapter in this volume “Negotiating the last Mamluk-Venetian commercial decree (922–3/1516),” is particularly valuable in this regard. First, she established the Mamluk origin of a document previously thought to be an Ottoman decree, but more importantly, she presents a thorough study of the legal aspects of commercial agreements of that kind. Other studies do not concentrate on the publication of documents, but study diplomatic contacts and policies, as well as the careers of the ambassadors dispatched between the two powers.145 John Wansbrough has produced an original contribution to the study of Mamluk ambassadors, with his examination of the rare case of a Mamluk dragoman sent to Venice.146 More recently, Georg Christ’s outstanding study entitled Trading conflicts, along with his many articles, has re-oriented the field by placing a new focus on the agents— trading and diplomatic; state officials and independent individuals—involved in trade and diplomacy.147 His work on the role of Venetian consulates is par142 143 144 145 146 147

Arbel, La République de Venise; Arbel, The last decades; Fuess, Why Venice, not Genoa; Christ, Trading conflicts. Wansbrough, A Mamluk letter; Wansbrough, Venice and Florence. But also see his Lingua Franca, and The safe-conduct. Labīb, Ein Brief; Hours, Fraude commerciale. Brummett, The transformation of Venetian diplomatic policy; Pedani, Ambassador’s travels; Horii, The Mamlūk sultan Qānṣūh al-Ghawrī; von der Höh, Muslim embassies. Wansbrough, A Mamluk ambassador. Christ, Trading conflicts; Christ, Beyond the network; Christ, A newsletter in 1419?; Christ, The Venetian consul.

142

dekkiche

ticularly valuable. Francisco Javier Apellaniz’s work also follows that trend, by increasingly emphasizing the role of provinces, such as Alexandria and Syria, in the periphery.148 This shift to the provinces succeeds in moving the field from a Cairo-centered diplomacy to that of the periphery, and in so doing, greatly broadens the range of diplomatic occasions and forms to be studied.149 4.1.7 Genoa, Pisa, Florence, Milan, and Ragusa/Dubrovnik Though Venice dominated the economic scene as the preferred partner of Mamluk trade, the Genoese and Florentines also had a significant share of the commerce in the region. Because of their specialization in the slave trade in the Black Sea, diplomatic contacts with the Genoese were quite important for the Mamluks, as is well shown by Andrew Ehrenkreutz and Reuven Amitai.150 The scholarly production on that topic is, however, limited, and mostly concentrates on the earlier stage of the Mamluk sultanate and the treaties concluded between the two powers at that time.151 Because those studies are also quite outdated, a reinvestigation of Mamluk-Genoese diplomatic relations would be worth undertaking in light of recent achievements in the field of diplomacy. By contrast, the study of diplomatic relations between the Mamluks and Florence seems to have regained the attention of scholars over the last decade; they particularly emphasized the commercial strategies developed by the Florentines.152 Scholars such as Michele Amari and John Wansbrough had already produced important, if traditional, contributions to the diplomatic study of those relations.153 Alessandro Rizzo’s chapter in this volume, “Three Mamluk letters,” reinvestigates the nature and the origin of those documents, and corrects previous scholarship. The diplomatic aspects of the relations between the Mamluks and the Florentines has only now begun to receive the attention it deserves.154 The same can be said about Florence’s predecessor, Pisa. Though a

148 149

150 151

152 153 154

Apellániz, Pouvoir et finance. In addition to Christ’s contribution above, see Bauden, D’Alexandrie à Damas; Bauden, L’ Achat d’ esclaves; Curatola, Venetian merchants; Howard, Death in Damascus; Vallet, Marchands vénitiens en Syrie. Ehrenkreutz, Strategic implications; Amitai, Diplomacy and the slave trade. Holt, Qalāwūn’s treaty with Genoa; Silvestre de Sacy, Texte arabe 41–52; Amari, al-ʿUmari; Ashtor and Kedar, Una guerra; Clermont-Ganneau, Explication; Desimoni, Actes passés; Karabacek, Arabische Beiträge; Kedar, Segurano-Sakrān Salvaygo. Apellániz, Florentine networks. Amari’s study is very similar to those done on Venice, see I diplomi arabi and Appendice; Wansbrough, A Mamlūk commercial treaty. See Rizzo’s PhD dissertation, Le Lys et le Lion.

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

143

number of documents are kept in the Florentine archives, it seems there has not yet been an independent study of Pisa’s diplomatic ties with the Mamluks.155 The interactions between another Italian realm, Milan, and the Mamluk sultanate have been studied from the perspective of diplomacy. Studies of Milanese-Mamluk relations mostly discuss accounts of the embassies exchanged between the two courts. Most of these studies are outdated, however, with the important exception of Marita Th. Wijntjes’s work on the Milanese embassy sent to Sultan Barqūq.156 Finally, because of its strong link to Venice, the city of Ragusa (Dubrovnik) should also be included in this section on the Italian mercantile powers, especially since it was the subject of a previous study—which is not, strictly speaking, focused on diplomacy.157 4.1.8 Aragon Although the Italians seemed predominant in the Mamluk commercial sphere, the Crown of Aragon also had many trading interests and interactions with the sultanate. Numerous studies, mostly in Spanish, French, and Arabic, have been published on this topic, and cover the entire period of the contacts between the two realms.158 Damien Coulon’s Barcelone et le grand commerce d’Orient au Moyen Âge and his articles are the most up-to-date scholarship on the trading relations between the two entities.159 Studies focusing on this region tend to be well documented because of the abundance of available sources.160 These studies deal with the expansion of Aragon’s commercial ambitions, but also with more practical aspects related to the activities of their consulates in Egypt and Syria.161 Moreover, a small proportion of the scholarship also examines Aragon’s ambitions through its involvement in the crusades.162 155 156 157 158

159 160

161 162

Amari, I diplomi arabi and Appendice. Ghinzoni, Un ambasciatore; Golubovich, 1394.—Terra Santa; Wijntjes, The sultan, the duke and the leopard. Krekić, Dubrovnik (Raguse) et le Levant. The list mentioned here is far from exhaustive. For a complete list of studies on Mamluks and Aragon, see Mamluk bibliography online. Al-Ḥajjī, al-ʿAlāqāt; al-Nashshār, ʿAlāqat mamlakatay; Ashtor, Alfonso il Magnanimo; Atiya, Mamlūk correspondence; De Ros, La corona de Aragón; Gonzalez Maurazos, La documentacion diplómatica; Marinescu, La politique orientale; Martínez Montávez, al-ʿAlāqāt al-diblūmāsiyya. Coulon, Barcelone; Coulon, Un tournant. The project i-Link, under the supervision of Roser Salicrú i Lluch (Barcelona), is currently re-editing those documents. F. Bauden is supervising the documents involving the Mamluks. Ferrer i Mallol, El consolat de mar; Lopez De Meneses, Los consulados catalanes; Lopez De Meneses, Un siglo del consulado. Claverie, La contribution des Templiers; Sáez Pomés, Los Aragoneses.

144

dekkiche

If commerce appears central in the historiography, scholars in the field have also produced a fair number of studies on the diplomatic relationship between Egypt and Barcelona, though once more, these are rather dated. A classical work of the genre was produced early on by Aziz Suryal Atiya, and entitled Egypt and Aragon: Embassies and diplomatic correspondence between 1300 and 1330A.D. (1938). Most studies concentrate on the diplomacy between the two courts at the state level, and on the establishment of both commercial and peace treaties between the two realms. Other studies focus on the Spanish embassies that were dispatched to Cairo and the accounts they left of their reception.163 A more recent sample of one such study is Holt’s articles on the letters and treaties established between the Mamluks and Spain.164 Mercè Viladrich’s Solving the ‘Accursed Riddle’ of the diplomatic relations between Catalonia and Egypt around 1430, also tackles issues of negotiation.165 Lately, Damien Coulon has expanded the field by developing studies on the process of negotiation, as well as on the agents (envoys or merchants) involved in the process.166 Finally, the case of Majorca and its relationship with the Mamluks has been the subject of one study by Pau Cateura Bennàsser.167 4.1.9 Portugal While the Italian and Spanish mercantile powers were the most common Christian interlocutors of the Mamluk sultanate, other European realms also attempted to established diplomatic and/or economic links with Egypt at various points in time. Those contacts, though less frequent, are documented and have been the subject of several studies. First, there is the case of Portugal, which became increasingly involved with trade in the Indian Ocean at the end of the ninth/fifteenth century; thus, they posed a danger to the Mamluk monopoly on the spice trade. The general—hostile—state of affairs between the two realms has been the subject of several studies, though these did not utilize the framework of diplomatic history. Recently, Clive Smith published an account of Mamluk reactions to Portugese activities in the Indian Ocean.168 Preceding that period, only one outdated study dealt with the diplomatic con163

164 165 166 167 168

Golubovich, 1303–5.—Terra Santa e Aragona; Golubovich, 1314–18.—Terra Santa e Aragona; Golubovich, 1322.—Terra Santa e Aragona; Golubovich, 1327.—Terra Santa e Aragona; Muʾnis, Pedro Martínez Anglaria; Torre, La embajada a Egipto. Holt, al-Nāṣir Muḥammad’s letter; Holt, The Mamluk sultanate and Aragon. Viladrich, Solving the ‘accursed riddle’. Coulon, Négocier avec les sultans; Coulon, Le Commerce barcelonais; Coulon, Ascensión, apogeo y caída; Coulon, Les Marchands catalans. Cateura Bennàsser, Mundos mediterráneos. Smith, Indecisive reactions.

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

145

tact between Lisbon and the Mamluks and it concerned the Muslim community in Portugal.169 This issue is reopened in the present volume, in Maria Filomena Lopes de Barros’s chapter, “In the name of the minorities,” in which she discusses the status of the diplomatic envoys that reached Cairo from Lisbon in the mid-ninth/fifteenth century. 4.1.10 France, Germany, England, and Serbia France, particularly the southern mercantile cities of Marseilles and Montpellier, were intensively involved in trade with Egypt until the beginning of the ninth/fifteenth century, as Bernard Dourmec, John Pryor, and Aḥmad Darrāj show in their research.170 Their studies not only tackle the general establishment of commercial relations between the two realms but also, and more importantly, deal extensively with the agents involved in, and responsible for, such trade, as well as the modalities peculiar to it. Unlike that of other Christian powers, the contacts between the Mamluks and the Germans were not centered on the establishment of commercial links, but rather dealt with the protection of Christians in the Mamluk realm. And this was for good reason, since German pilgrims traveled quite extensively to the holy lands, as attested by the numerous travel reports they left us.171 The German emissaries involved in those contacts also left us an account of their missions, which have been studied by scholars such as Josef von Karabacek and Francesco Gabrieli.172 These studies concentrate on the cultural and ceremonial aspects of the encounters. The case of England, which has been researched by Lesley A. Coote,173 though fictional, is nevertheless quite interesting for the way it shows how diplomatic relationships with the Muslim world were used to appeal to, or to convey messages to, an internal (local) audience—a theme touched on earlier in the case of the Mongols and the crusaders. Finally, one last group was documented as being in diplomatic contact with the Mamluks, namely, the kingdom of the Serbs. One Serbian embassy is indeed recorded in both the chronicles and in al-Qalqashandī’s chancery manual, and has been studied on three occasions.174 The account and contents of this embassy is exceptional, as it deals with the 169 170

171 172 173 174

Zayyāt, Athar unuf. Doumerc, Documents commerciaux; Doumerc, Les Marchands du Midi; Darrāj, Les Relations; Pryor, Commenda. Also see, more generally, Abulafia, Marseilles, Acre and the Mediterranean. Grotzfeld, Arnold von Harffs Aufenthalt. Karabacek, Eine Gesandtschaft Rudolf; Gabrieli, Le ambascerie di Baibars. Coote, A letter from Babylon. Gaudefroy-Demombynes, Une ambassade serbo-bulgare; Guest, A Servian embassy; Ismāʿīl, ʿAlāqat al-Ṣirb.

146

dekkiche

Serbian king’s request for a safe-conduct from the Mamluk sultan to visit the holy land. This represents a unique request for safe-passage by a Christian king. 4.1.11 Byzantium Along with the interactions that took place in the context of jihād and commercial interests, the Christian community from Europe and Mamluk sultans were often in contact in order to discuss the safe-passage and protection of the pilgrims and Christian communities. Pilgrimage was, for example, one of the prime concerns of the Byzantine Empire. Although relations between the Byzantines and the Muslim world were characterized by an active jihād policy for most of the premodern period, the contacts that were established between them and the Mamluks early on were mostly cordial. This was a result of the broader context in which these contacts took place, namely, the Mongol occupation of Anatolia. Thus far, scholarship has concentrated on this earlier phase of contact and on the earlier treaties and agreements concluded between the two powers concerning the safe-passage of the slave trade through the Bosphorus. Marius Canard and Franz Dölger have dealt with this earlier period,175 while Peter Schreiner, Margarete Pia Schmid, and more recently Dimitri A. Korobeinikov have concentrated on the exchanges that took place in the eighth/fourteenth century.176 Most of this research focuses on the motives and contents of the mission rather than the ceremonies and the agents involved.177 The role of the Byzantine emperor as protector of the Orthodox community and the Christian pilgrims was a primary topic of discussion between the two realms and is highlighted in those studies.178 Johannes Pahlitzsch has been particularly prolific on this topic.179 Finally, while Byzantines and Mamluks were both very concerned with safeguarding their communities (i.e., Christians and Mamluk recruits), they also shared many commercial interests, as is well illustrated in Mohammad Mansouri’s research.180

175

176 177 178 179

180

Canard’s works include Byzance et les musulmans; Un traité entre Byzance et l’Égypte; Le traité de 1281; Les Relations; and Une lettre du Sultan Malik Nâṣir Ḥasan. See Dölger’s Der Vertrag des Sultans Qalāʾūn. Korobeinikov, Diplomatic correspondence; Schmid, Die diplomatischen Beziehungen; Schreiner, Byzanz und die Mamluken. On the agents more generally, see Balivet, Élites byzantines, latines et musulmanes. On the pilgrimage, Talbot, Byzantine pilgrimage; Schreiner, Byzantinische Orientreisende. Müller and Pahlitzsch, Sultan Baybars I and the Georgians; by Pahlitzsch, see Networks of Greek Orthodox monks; Mediators between east and west; Georgians and Greeks; and Documents on intercultural communication. By Mansouri, see Byzantins, Mamluks et Mongols; Rôle et place de Byzance; and Tijārat al-ʿabīd.

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

147

4.1.12 Ethiopia One last realm must be mentioned in the context of the discussion of the protection of Christian communities and their interests, and that is Ethiopia. Because of its close relation with the Patriarch of Alexandria and the frequent contacts that took place between them, relations between the Abyssinian king and the Mamluk sultanate were studied early on by a number of scholars, such as J. Perruchon, Gaston Wiet, Julian G. Plante, Saʿīd ʿĀshūr, and more recently Q.ʿA. Qāsim.181 These studies not only focus on the political and religious contexts that produced the exchanges, but also on diplomatic aspects, such as the reception of the Ethiopian embassies in Cairo. Julien Loiseau’s contribution in this volume, “The ḥaṭī and the sultan,” reinvestigates the accounts of those exchanges, for both the political and diplomatic contexts, and to successfully illustrate particular aspects of Mamluk diplomatic practice regarding the record of previous embassies and the power of rituals. Finally, I end this section on the scholarship dealing with Mamluk-Christian diplomatic relations by referring once more to the numerous works based on the literature of pilgrims and travelers.182 Although those studies do not focus on diplomacy as such, they nevertheless often touch on related issues and contain references to exchanges and the reception of embassies. Travelers and pilgrims often witnessed Mamluk ceremonials, and some were even involved in those demonstrations of power. 4.2 Mamluk and Muslim Powers Compared to the scholarship on Mamluk-Christian diplomatic relations and exchanges, studies on the interactions between the sultanate and its Muslim counterparts is somewhat more limited.183 This literature is similar to the studies of Mamluk-Christian relations in that scholars have mostly concentrated on cases of war and conflicts, or on struggles and/or partnerships related to the lucrative spice and slave trade. Only during the last decades have we seen an increasing interest in extending the study to other types of contacts, and to include a broader range of diplomatic occasions, such as symbolic struggles of religious supremacy, issues of legitimacy, marriage policy, the protection of pilgrims, and exchanges of embassies in order to maintain contact between realms, an activity that belongs more squarely in the daily practice of diplo181 182 183

ʿĀshūr, Baʿḍ aḍwāʾ jadīda; Perruchon, Récit d’ une ambassade; Wiet, Les Relations; Plante, The Ethiopian embassy; Qāsim, ʿAlāqāt Miṣr bi-l-Ḥabasha. Space does not permit me to enumerate these works here; the Mamluk bibliography online lists most of the secondary literature on this topic. Bauden, Les Relations.

148

dekkiche

macy. The development of an appropriate ceremonial at the Mamluk court, for example, illustrates the regularization of such diplomatic practices. Yehoshua Frenkel’s contribution in this volume, “Embassies and ambassadors in Mamluk Cairo,” is a perfect overview of the contacts between the Mamluks and their Muslim counterparts, contacts that focus on the symbolic and ritual aspects of diplomacy. Moreover, besides focusing on the ‘central’ actors, such as the Mongols or the Ottomans, scholarship has now started to include the peripheral areas of the Islamic world, such as West Africa; it has also shifted focus from sovereign diplomacy to include other kinds of actors. Such studies have succeeded in increasing our understanding of the broad scope of diplomacy. 4.2.1 Golden Horde While relations between the Ilkhanids and the Mamluks have attracted the most attention,184 the Mamluks developed reasonably good relations with other Mongols in the area. Among these were the Mongols of the Golden Horde. The Golden Horde converted to Islam early on, and they shared a common enemy (the Ilkhanids) with the Mamluks, so that the two became important allies. Furthermore, the Golden Horde ruled over the Qipchaq region, where most Mamluk recruits were purchased. A couple of specific studies on Mamluk-Golden Horde contacts and exchanges have been produced, such as those by A.N. Poliak and Amīn al-Khūlī.185 More recently, Marie Favereau has specialized in the field of Mamluk-Golden Horde relations.186 Her contribution in this volume, “The Golden Horde and the Mamluks,” investigates the origin of the Mamluk and Golden Horde diplomatic relations and practices. 4.2.2 Ottomans If the Mongols were the major opponents of the Mamluks during the first part of Mamluk rule, the Ottomans proved even more dangerous at the end of the period. The contacts between these two powers have been well-studied by scholars. The warlike aspect of their relationships, and their subsequent diplomatic contacts, were already well illustrated in Shai Har-El’s 1995 monograph, Struggle for domination in the Middle East: The Ottoman-Mamluk war. Har-El discusses the political and military context of this relationship in great detail, including accounts of the exchanges of embassies, the process of peace negoti-

184 185 186

Scholarship on the Mamluk-Ilkhanids was included in the previous section. Al-Khūlī, Min rūḥ al-tārīkh; Poliak, Le caractère colonial. Discussions on Mamluk-Golden Horde contacts more generally can also be found in works on the Mongols. Favereau, Comment le sultan mamlouk.

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

149

ations, and the diplomatic interactions that took place between the two realms. The warlike aspect of Mamluk-Ottoman relations, especially the very last stage of the war that ended the rule of the Mamluks in 922–3/1516–7, has also been studied extensively by other scholars.187 Of all the events during the history of Mamluk-Ottoman relations, one in particular has attracted a great deal of attention by scholars interested in diplomacy: that is the case of political asylum given to Cem, the Ottoman pretender to the throne and a subject who opposed both rules for quite some time. For example, the studies of Ralph Hattox, Gaston Wiet, and Aḥmad Darrāj deal with the various aspects of this asylum and its diplomatic consequences.188 Scholars, both in the past and more recently, have written quite prolifically on the topic of the general practice of diplomacy between the Mamluks and the Ottomans. Studies such as al-ʿAlāqāt bayna l-Jarākisa wa-l-ʿUthmānīyīn, 784–923 H./1382–1517 M. by ʿAbd al-Rāziq al-Ṭanṭāwī l-Qarmūṭ (1984), and Y.A. al-Thakafi’s PhD dissertation, The diplomatic relationship between the Ottoman empire and the Mamluk empire in the first quarter of the sixteenth century (1981) are relevant examples, as is Elias Muhanna’s study on the gift culture of the two courts.189 Finally, Cihan Yüksel Muslu’s recent monograph has emerged as a new reference work in the field: Ottomans and the Mamluks: Imperial diplomacy and warfare in the Islamic world (published in 2014).190 Much like Broadbridge’s work on the Mongols, Yüksel Muslu’s monograph is an important contribution to the field of premodern Islamic diplomacy because of its focus on structure and process in times of peace and war, rather that just on events. This is well illustrated, for example, in Yüksel Muslu’s analysis of chancery practice and discourse in the correspondence, as well as in her study of the ceremonies of this period. Kristof D’hulster’s chapter in this volume, “Fixed rules to a changing game?” follows the same trend, by focusing on the symbolic use of diplomacy as illustrated by the protocol, ceremonies, and honorific titles displayed in the exchanges between the Mamluks and the Ottomans.

187 188 189 190

On the diplomatic exchanges, see Kerslake, The correspondence. Cf. Mamluk bibliography online for the complete list of studies on the last Ottoman-Mamluk war. Hattox, Qāytbāy’s diplomatic dilemma; Darrāj, Jam Sulṭān; Wiet, Deux princes ottomans; Wiet, Réfugiés politiques ottomans. Muhanna, The sultan’s new clothes. Yüksel Muslu, The Ottomans. Part of her research was presented during the Liège conference.

150

dekkiche

4.2.3 Mongol Successors While the history of the Mamluk sultanate’s diplomacy with its major adversaries has by now been well studied, scholars in the last decades have increasingly studied Mamluk relations with other realms, and a large number of these studies focus on times of peace. This is particularly the case in relation to the post-Mongol period and the rise of the Ilkhanids’ successor-states, such as the Jalayirids, Chobanids, and the Timurids. While the latter case is greatly reminiscent of the type of diplomacy already seen with the Mongols, at least during the period of the rise and conquests of Tīmūr, the first cases are quite original. Anne Broadbridge’s monograph is once again the reference work on this subject. But other scholars are devoting more studies to the Jalayirids, Chobanids, and Artuqids.191 Their diplomatic relations with the Mamluks have not been subject to an independent study, however, but rather are included in studies of those specific dynasties. In that respect, the works of Patrick Wing and Hend Gilli-Elewy are particularly relevant.192 The post-Mongol period is particularly interesting in terms of the study of diplomacy, because of the great efforts successor-states made to assert their legitimacy as independent Muslim powers and to be recognized as such. We can observe new discourses and patterns in the practice of diplomacy at that time, as these become the tool par excellence for gaining legitimacy and prestige, and increasing symbolic capital. The latter point is well illustrated by the many accounts of the receptions of foreign embassies in Cairo; these accounts detail the splendor of the gifts exchanged, and the themes (i.e., marriage proposals, accounts of conquests and victories, exchanges of favors, and other cordialities) of the discussions that generated contacts between the different courts. Hend Gilli-Elewy’s chapter, “Baghdad between Cairo and Tabriz,” describes this transitional period quite well; she focuses on the role of the periphery and its perception of the larger diplomatic games between the Mamluks and the Mongols. The cases of the Jalayirids and Chobanids is also quite exceptional, since, in addition to exchanging embassies, the rulers themselves were also received at the Mamluk court. Patrick Wing’s contribution in this volume, “Between Iraq and a hard place,” provides a thorough analysis of this event, its stakes, and symbolism, especially when examined from an internal perspective. If the relationships between these Mongol successor states and the Mamluks were usually cordial, we must bear in mind that these rulers were nevertheless

191 192

Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology. Wing, The Jalayirids; Gelli-Helewy, Bagdad.

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

151

quite ambitious. And while most of them had never opposed the Mamluks on the battlefield, they often opposed them at a symbolic level by challenging the Mamluk’s prized role as the patron of the holy cities of Islam.193 This struggle of religious supremacy in the Hijaz became an increasingly important feature of intra-Muslim relationships in the late eighth/fourteenth and ninth/fifteenth centuries, and this is clearly evident in the diplomatic relations between the Mamluks and the Muslim powers. 4.2.4 Timurids In spite of the rise of Tīmūr in the region, the Mamluks were nevertheless able to assert their role as the protector of the Muslim community—at least for a short time. Indeed, Tīmūr’s conquests in Iraq, Syria, and Anatolia gave rise to an intensification of contacts between the Muslim rulers in the region and the Mamluks; these contacts were made, for the most part, in order to benefit from the protection of the Mamluks.194 The difficult relationship between the Mamluks and Tīmūr, which is reminiscent of Mamluk-Ilkhanid relations, has been well studied by Broadbridge.195 This period is, in fact, well-documented both in the chronicles and in the chancery manuals, which contain copies of several letters exchanged at that time. These letters include many themes in common with those exchanged earlier with the Ilkhanids. But Tīmūr proved himself a much more dangerous adversary; he was able to conquer Aleppo and Damascus, and subdue the young sultan al-Nāṣir Faraj. This event gave rise to intense negotiation between the two powers, with each meeting becoming an occasion to show off on the diplomatic scene. Those exchanges have been well studied, especially the case of the famous encounter between Tīmūr and the historian Ibn Khaldūn, who left us a detailed account of his meeting with the conqueror.196 Michele Bernardini’s chapter in this volume, “Niẓām al-Dīn Shāmī’s description,” reinvestigates these events and the exchanges of embassies between Tīmūr and the Mamluks based on a Persian source. Thus far, the period following Tīmūr’s death (d. 807/1405) had not been the subject of much attention, save for the diplomatic dispute that took place between Shāh Rukh and Sultan Barsbāy over the hanging of the kiswa in the Kaʿba. Research on this event, which was previously studied by Aḥmad Darrāj

193 194 195 196

See, for example, the case of the Jalayirid Sultan-Uvays, in Dekkiche, New source, new debate 268; Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 163. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 138–67. Ibid. 168–97. Fischel, Ibn Khaldūn and Tamerlane; Fischel, Ibn Khaldûn and Tîmûr 61.

152

dekkiche

in his monograph on Sultan Barsbāy,197 has now been completed by my own diplomatic studies of Mamluk-Timurid relationships.198 This conflict, which, as noted, should be viewed in the broader framework of the struggle for religious supremacy in the Hijaz, gave rise to frequent exchanges of embassies between the two realms over a period of twenty years. Because of the importance of the matter and the increasing tension between the two powers, chronicles described these exchanges in rich detail, and this allows us to reconstruct contemporary diplomatic practices quite accurately. In this context, the analysis of the evolution of the ceremonies displayed by the Mamluk sultans over time is particularly important. This analysis illustrates the importance of protocol and non-verbal communication, but also the role of parallel diplomacy that different members of Shāh Rukh’s family engaged in.199 While according to the chronicles, contacts between the Mamluks and the Timurids ceased after Shāh Rukh’s death in 850/1447, the study of the collection of letters MS ar. 4440 (BnF) reveals later contacts between the two powers at the time of Sulṭān-Abū Saʿīd’s rule (d. 873/1469), in which Sulṭān-Abū Saʿīd requested protection for Timurid pilgrims.200 4.2.5 Turkmen Confederations Another range of diplomatic contacts concerns those that took place between the Mamluks and the Turkmen confederations, the Qara Qoyunlu and the Aq Qoyunlu. Contacts and exchanges between the Mamluks and the first group are well known, especially the earlier contacts with Qarā Muḥammad (d. 791/1389) and his successor Qarā Yūsuf (d. 823/1420) at the time of Tīmūr’s conquests and in the following period.201 Frédéric Bauden’s chapter in this volume, “Diplomatic entanglements between Tabriz, Cairo, and Herat,” completes our knowledge of this earlier period. By reconstructing original material, Bauden reveals the diplomatic intrigues and maneuvering in the race for power in the region. The following period of Iskandar’s (d. 841/1438) aggressive rule was also studied by Aḥmad Darrāj in his monograph on Barsbāy.202 Though Darrāj mostly focused on the political context, he also shows how the two realms made significant use of diplomatic tools in cases of conflict and rapprochement. Finally,

197 198 199 200 201 202

Darrāj, L’ Égypte. Dekkiche, Correspondence between Mamluks and Timurids; Dekkiche, Diplomacy at its zenith. Dekkiche, Correspondence between Mamluks and Timurids. Dekkiche, Le Caire. Broadbrige, Kingship and ideology 171–73, 187–8. Darrāj, L’ Égypte 370–1.

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

153

I concentrate on the later phase of diplomatic contacts between the Mamluks and the Qara Qoyunlu, after Jahānshāh successfully asserted his independence following Shāh Rukh’s death.203 While Darrāj and Bauden focus on the political context of those exchanges, in my research, I analyze the diplomatic context and ceremonial pertaining to those exchanges more thoroughly, and also discuss cases of non-sovereign (parallel) diplomacy. By contrast, the rule of the Aq Qoyunlu is quite well covered, thanks to John Woods’s ground-breaking work, The Aqquyunlu: Clan, confederation, empire (1999). While this work does not focus primarily on diplomacy, it nevertheless discusses many cases of exchanges and contacts (as well as their modalities) between the Aq Qoyunlu and the Mamluks, both in times of friendship and enmity. Since then, very few studies have been undertaken on that dynasty, with the recent exception of Matthew Melvin-Koushki’s work that deals with the case of a ‘conquest letter’ sent by Uzun Ḥasan to the Mamluk sultan Qāytbāy.204 Finally, although not truly Turkmen, the contacts and diplomatic exchanges that took place between the Mamluks and the Safavids at a later stage have been studied by W. Clifford and Ḥ.M. Rabīʿ.205 Those works mostly concentrate on the political context rather than on the diplomatic practices between rulers, and thus should be viewed in the broader context of the Ottoman advances in the region. 4.2.6 Turkmen Beyliks Other studies have concentrated on the Anatolian region and sometimes touched on the relations and exchanges between the Seljuqs of Rūm or their Beylik successors, and the Mamluks. However, save for the case of the Qaramanids, there are no separate diplomatic studies on this topic. Rather, the history of the contacts between the Seljuqs and the Mamluks is recounted in the broader framework of the Mongols’ advance in the region or in studies devoted to Anatolia, for example, in Claude Cahen’s major work Pre-Ottoman Turkey. The later history of the Beyliks is usually included in works devoted to the Ottomans.206 While those works do not concentrate on diplomacy or its practice, they nevertheless provide a good political context to those exchanges and show the intricacies of the region’s politics and alliances. 203 204 205

206

Dekkiche, The letter and its response. Melvin-Koushki, The delicate art of aggression. Clifford, Some observations I; Clifford, Some observations II; Rabīʿ, Political relations. Also on the ‘Mamluk-Safavid-Ottoman’ triangle, see al-Ḥamdānī, ʿAlāqāt al-Mamālīk almiṣriyyīn. In the context of the contacts and interactions with the Mamluks, see Har-El, Struggle for domination; Venzke, The case of a Dulgadir-Mamluk Iqṭāʿ.

154

dekkiche

This last point is particularly well illustrated by the history of the contacts between the Mamluks and the Qaramanids. Thanks to the extant Qaramanid correspondences, Rudolf Veselý, and more recently my own research, has studied their relations with the Mamluks in more depth.207 Studies based on documentary sources show the importance and stakes of their relations, which oscillated between alliances and struggle. My study of the peace concluded between the Mamluks and the Qaramanids in the ninth/fifteenth century investigates the way Muslim powers dealt with peace, and is a good illustration of the constant tension between the theory and practice of diplomacy.208 4.2.7 Yemen, Hijaz, and India Whereas the case of Rasulid Yemen and the Hijaz had long been seen through the lens of internal Mamluk politics, recent research increasingly shows that these two cases were more complex than originally thought. The diplomatic relationships that took place between those regions and the Mamluk sultanate exemplify this quite well. Given the strategic position of these lands, at the heart of the holy cities of Islam and as the transit point for trade coming from India, the Rasulids and sharīf s’ ambitions often opposed and challenged the aims of the Mamluks, and this opposition produced intense exchanges between the parties. From the 2000s on, the case of Yemen has received increased attention by scholars such as Muḥammad Saʿīd and especially Éric Vallet.209 The latter’s studies are particularly important because of his focus not only on economic relations between the Rasulids and the Mamluks, but also for his successful illustration of the fine line between trade and diplomacy. In his chapter entitled “Diplomatic networks of Rasulid Yemen in Egypt” in this volume, Vallet analyzes that practice in more depth, by studying the agents in charge of conducting diplomacy between the two realms, thereby showing the increasing importance of the rulers’ entourage and their networks. The case of the Hijaz and its internal politics was already well known, thanks to Mortel’s numerous contributions to the field.210 However, research has taken a new turn, thanks to John L. Meloy’s Imperial power and maritime trade: Mecca

207 208 209

210

Veselý, Ein Briefwechsel; Dekkiche, Crossing the line. Dekkiche, Making peace. For scholarship in the 1990s, see Serjeant, Fifteenth century ‘interlopers’; Vermeulen, Une lettre du caliphe al-Mustakfī; Vallet, L’Arabie marchande; Vallet, Du système mercantile; Vallet, Mūsā b. al-Ḥasan al-Mawṣilī; and Saʿīd, Dawr al-Yaman. For Mortel’s complete list of works, see Mamluk bibliography online. Two relevant examples are Mortel, al-Aḥwāl al-siyāsiyya wa-l-iqtiṣādiyya; Mortel, Aspects of Mamlūk relations.

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

155

and Cairo in the later middle ages (2010), which successfully shows the role of the sharīf s as (almost) independent and ambitious rulers. While the focus of this work is primarily on trade, Meloy did not neglect the complex set of relations between the sharīf s and the sultans; he illustrates many cases of diplomatic exchanges and maneuvering. Keiko Ohta has also studied these topics in the early period of the Mamluk sultanate.211 In addition to the importance of trade as binding—and also often opposing—elements of the relations between the Mamluks and sharīf s, the role of the latter in the affairs of the pilgrimage has been well studied. Meloy, Vallet, and I show how the sharīf s conducted parallel diplomacy with opposing parties to sell prestige in the region.212 The case of India is indirectly related to the affairs of Yemen and the Hijaz. While thus far, scholars have concentrated on the importance of Indian trade and how this was conducted and organized, in recent years, the role of Indian rulers in the affairs of the holy cities has been increasingly taken into account. Yusrā Aḥmad ʿAbdallāh Zaydān’s article “Dawr al-hunūd fī l-ḥayāt l-thaqāfiyya bi-l-ḥaramayn al-sharīfayn zaman salāṭīn al-Mamālīk” is, in that respect, a good example. However, the case of the diplomatic contact between India and Egypt has been overlooked; so far there are only a few outdated studies by Étienne Quatremère, T.W. Rhys Davids, and Yolande Crowe.213 Therefore, John Meloy’s contribution in this volume, “Aggression in the best of lands,” comes at the right time, especially given the focus on peripheral and intermediary diplomacy. Another contribution in this volume by Stephan Conermann and Anna Kollatz, “Some remarks on the diplomatic relations between Cairo, Delhi/Dawlatābād, and Aḥmadābād during the eighth/fourteenth and ninth/fifteenth centuries,” reinvestigates the case of Indian diplomacy on a more general level based on a variety of original sources. 4.2.8 Islamic West As previous scholarship shows, a great deal of attention has been devoted to contacts between the Mamluks and eastern Muslim rulers. While it is true that relations with eastern rulers were of prime importance to the sultanate, the Mamluks also maintained contacts with the western lands. It must be said, however, that most of the research in this field has been conducted not by

211 212 213

Ohta, The Meccan sharifate. Meloy, Imperial power and maritime trade; Vallet, L’Arabie marchande; Dekkiche, New source, new debate. Quatremère, Mémoire; Davids, A Ceylon embassy to Egypt; Crowe, Gujarat and Mamlūk Egypt.

156

dekkiche

Mamluk specialists, but by specialists of the Maghrib.214 Marius Canard and Mounira Chapoutot-Remadi are well-known specialists on the topic and have produced general studies on the relations between the two regions.215 Other scholars, such as G.S. Colin, Abd al-Aziz Daoulatli, and Khaled Kchir have studied specific cases of correspondence between Maghribi rulers and the Mamluks, and shown the stakes and issues involved in those contacts, more than the diplomatic process itself.216 Two contributions in this volume also deal with the Maghrib: Mounira Chapoutot-Remadi presents a full study of the HafsidMamluk contacts in her chapter, “Entre Ifrīqiya ḥafside et Égypte mamelouke,” which focuses on the role of the Mamluks in the protection of the Maghribi caravan during the period of the pilgrimage. By contrast, Lotfi Ben Miled’s “Tracking down the Hafsid diplomatic missions” is an original contribution to a case of parallel diplomacy, and illustrates the role of a Hafsid ambassador in the truce negotiations between the Mamluks and the Ottomans in the late ninth/fifteenth century. The case of the contacts between the Mamluks and the Nasrid kingdom of Granada has also received a great deal of scholarly attention. Rachel Arié’s studies on Nasrid Granada are particularly well known. Those were recently completed and updated by a number of researchers.217 A central question in these studies is, of course, the persistent call for help from the Nasrids who were facing the Spanish Reconquista. There are a number of studies about Nasrid embassies to Cairo, such as those by ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz al-Ahwānī, Lucena Paredes, and L. Seco de Lucena.218 Their analyses concentrate not only on the goals of the missions, but also on the practice of diplomacy established in Cairo to receive ambassadors. Bárbara Boloix Gallardo’s chapter in this volume, “Diplomatic correspondence between Nasrid Granada and Mamluk Cairo,” reviews the previous scholarship and studies the unilateral character of Nasrid-Mamluk relations. 4.2.9 Sub-Saharan Africa A final group of studies on the diplomatic relationships between the Mamluks and their Muslim counterparts concerns the African rulers of Nubia and Sudan 214 215 216 217 218

Mamluk sources, unlike the Maghribi powers, contain few records of those relations. For a complete list, see Mamluk bibliography online. Canard, Les Relations; Chapoutot-Remadi, Les Relations. Colin, Contribution; Daoulatli, Les Relations; Kchir, À propos d’une correspondance diplomatique. See, for example, Arié, Les Relations. Al-Ahwānī, Sifāra siyāsiyya; Lucena, Embajadores granadinos; Seco de Lucena, Viaje a oriente.

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

157

on the one hand, and those of West Africa on the other. Contributions dealing with the first group have been produced, for the most part, in Arabic by scholars such as Ḥayāt Nāṣir al-Ḥajjī, and more recently by Karam al-Ṣāwī Bāz.219 Issues of trade and pilgrimage are once more central to these two realms. The same is true of the relations between the Mamluks and the West African kingdom of Mali/Takrūr and Borno. Fortunately, those relations are better documented than those with Nubia, and specialists in the field have not only dealt with the context peculiar to their exchanges, but with their modalities as well. The first set of studies mostly concentrates on the affairs of the pilgrimage.220 The second group, by contrast, focuses on the particular documents exchanged between the Mamluks and the realm of Takrūr.221 While Takrūr has received the most attention, B. Barkindo has also devoted himself to the study of Borno. Previous scholarship was expanded on by the original contribution of Rémi Dewière in this volume. In his chapter, “Peace be upon those who follow the right way,” Dewière not only thoroughly analyzes the political and economic context, but he also focuses on the shared diplomatic culture and its symbolism for the Borno sultanate. 4.3 Mamluk Diplomacy and Material Culture If the study of bilateral diplomacy between the Mamluks and their foreign counterparts holds a prominent position in current scholarship, in recent years the material culture peculiar to those exchanges has received more attention. This is especially the case for the contacts between the Mamluks and China. Indeed, while those contacts have rarely been studied because of a lack of sources,222 material evidence, such as the famous blue and white porcelains, attest a strong Chinese-Mamluk connection and influence. The import of Chinese blue and white, and its imitation in the Islamic world, has already been the subject of numerous studies, but so far, none have focused specifically on the Mamluk case.223 This makes Valentina Vezzoli’s contribution in this volume, “Precious objects for eminent guests,” which shows the importance of the blue and white ceramics on the Mamluk table during the reception of embassies, all the more valuable. 219 220

221 222 223

Al-Ḥajjī, al-ʿAlāqāt; Bāz, Mamālīk al-Nūba. Levtzion, Mamluk Egypt and Takrūr; Amīn, ʿAlāqāt dawlatay Mālī wa-Sunghāy; Barkindo, The royal pilgrimage tradition; Beckingham, The pilgrimage and death of Sākūra; Birks, Across the savannas to Mecca. Darrāj, Risālatān; Hunwick, Notes. Save al-Tihāmī, Baʿḍ aḍwāʾ jadīda. Carswell, China and the Middle East; Gray, The export of Chinese porcelain; Mikami, Chinese ceramics; Scanlon, Egypt and China.

158

dekkiche

But the study of material culture in the framework of diplomatic relationships usually centers on gift exchanges. Many studies mention the importance of exchanges and displays of gifts during the reception of embassies.224 Frenkel’s contribution in this volume is a good example of this trend. Scholars often highlight how these exchanges were used to show off wealth and prestige, or increasingly, how the gifts were meant as powerful and symbolic messages. However, we still lack a thorough analysis of the gift culture as material evidence of Mamluk diplomacy, similar to Anthony Cutler’s contributions in the field of Byzantine studies.225 Doris Behrens-Abouseif has recently made a major contribution to that field; this came as the result of her presentation at the conference Mamluk Cairo: A Crossroads for Embassies. With her work, Practising diplomacy in the Mamluk sultanate: Gifts and material culture in the medieval Islamic world, scholars now have a complete overview and catalogue of the gift culture, as seen through diplomatic exchanges between the Mamluks and their foreign counterparts. Yet, however essential this study may be, much still needs to be done, and many of the lines of inquiry suggested by BehrensAbouseif need to be investigated further, whether from anthropological, semiotic, economic, or material perspectives. Furthermore, the cultural analysis of gift exchanges in the premodern Islamic world is also a topic worth investigating in light of more theoretical contributions from the social sciences.226 While issues regarding chancery practice and documents are dealt with in detail in Frédéric Bauden’s introduction to this volume, I would like to mention the increasing focus scholars have recently placed on chancery letters, in the framework of their studies. For a long time such letters were only studied for their content, but now they are being analyzed as prime objects of diplomatic exchanges that reveal much about non-verbal communication in diplomacy. The format and (supposed) external features of these documents are central topics of study because of the parallel messages they carried. In this volume, my own “Diplomatics or another way to see the world” and Lucian Reinfandt’s “Strong letters at the Mamluk court” are particularly revealing of the semiotic

224

225 226

Al-Waqqād, al-Hadāyā wa-l-tuḥaf, covers the first part of the Mamluk sultanate. Muhanna, The sultan’s new clothes, focuses on the gifts exchanged between the Mamluks and the Ottomans. Save for those two articles, we find discussions or mentions of gift exchanges in most contributions dealing with the accounts of diplomatic receptions at the Mamluk court. Cutler, Gifts and gift exchange. In that respect, Europeanists working under the umbrella of new diplomatic history have been particularly active. For a general overview and references, see Sowerby, Early modern diplomatic history.

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

159

value of the correspondences and what they say, not only about the status of Mamluks’ interlocutors, but also about the power of the message contained in the material letter. The power of objects involved in the reception of foreign embassies is also particularly well explained in Ludvik Kalus’s chapter “Écritoires: Objets fonctionnels et symboliques indissociables des cérémonies officielles à l’époque mamelouke.”

5

Conclusions

The review of the literature presented here shows that the study of Mamluk diplomacy has long been dominated by a traditional approach. In fact, most of the historiography focuses on the edition and publication of diplomatic documents, on cases of diplomacy used to end armed conflicts or settle commercial agreements, and on bilateral diplomacy conducted by, or in the name of heads of states. Moreover, scholars attach more importance to the political context and the matters involved in those exchanges than to the actual practice of diplomacy. This trend is changing, however, as more recent scholarship shows. In this context, scholars in Mamluk studies have, for example, often dealt with the role of diplomacy in the process of establishing a state’s legitimacy. This process was crucial to external relations, but, as many studies show, it was also quite important internally as well, especially for a state like that of the Mamluks, who originally lacked traditional Islamic legitimacy. While issues of legitimacy were of primary concern to the sultans involved in the exchanges, recent research also shows a greater plurality of actors involved in diplomacy and diplomatic contacts. Indeed, there were many non-state or non-sovereign actors in direct contact with the Mamluks, both sultans and amirs. This was, for example, the case for the mercantile community (both Muslim and non-Muslim), who often acted independently from the state. Sultans did not have the prerogative of sending embassies, as their sons, grandsons, and extended households could also be part of the diplomatic game, and often acted in their own name. A final group of actors are the women of the court, who are generally missing from the previous contributions. Women held important positions in the household, and were often involved in diplomatic exchanges at various levels. A thorough study of the role of women in Mamluk diplomacy must still be undertaken. There has been an increasing change of focus of scholars, from heads of state to diplomatic agents; this is another major link that can be drawn with recent trends in the new diplomatic history and which is directly related to the previous point. Many contributions in this volume point to the predominant role

160

dekkiche

of the rulers’ entourage in the conduct of diplomacy. Though this entourage was usually of lesser status than the standard expected of and described by the manuals, their proximity to the ruler was often of a higher value than their origin and status. This is particularly well illustrated in the contributions of Broadbridge and Vallet. This volume also emphasizes the network that those diplomatic agents built within the host court, as this network proved quite fruitful in negotiations. These new lines of inquiry, while in need of further development, already provide original results. The elimination of the old standards of diplomatic studies (i.e., the focus on heads of state) has allowed scholars to concentrate on the use of diplomacy independently from any war or commercial context. Recent studies that focus on diplomacy in time of peace indeed show the great multiplicity of occasions that could generate contact between courts. The phatic function of diplomacy as a means to keep in touch is, in that respect, quite relevant, especially since it obliges scholars to focus more on the symbolic and non-verbal aspects of diplomacy. In fact, the study of court rituals and ceremonies that took place during the receptions of foreign embassies is not new. Rituals have long been recognized by Mamluk scholars as an efficient means of showing off power and wealth and thereby positioning the sultans against the Mongols and other opponents. But non-verbal communication, and the subliminal messages they contained, is now increasingly studied in peaceful contexts as well. Most contributions in the present volume focus on this crucial aspect of Mamluk diplomacy during the reception of embassies by looking at the material witness in the form of letters. Beyond the particular cases presented, several contributors also point, on many occasions, to the establishment of a common diplomatic culture and practice between the different actors, be they Muslims or non-Muslims, Arabic, Persian, Turkish or Italian speakers. Understanding how this diplomatic culture developed and spread is the next step of research to add to the agenda of scholars. Though it has taken some time to develop a coherent study of premodern Islamic diplomacy, the recent research presented above, as well as the current volume, shows the great potential and future of the field. This is especially the case if we can successfully combine the achievements and methodologies of new diplomatic history and broaden the scope of what and who is included under the umbrella of diplomacy as a whole. While thus far scholars have mostly concentrated on the political and economic aspects of diplomatic relations, they are now progressively turning to cultural and social dynamics as well; this will surely offer rewarding insights in the future.227 227

I am currently preparing the manuscript of a monograph, tentatively entitled Keeping the

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

161

Bibliography Primary Sources (Handwritten) Anonymous, Munshaʾa, MS Ar. 4440, Paris, BnF. Ibn Nubāta, Kitāb Sulūk duwal al-mulūk, Ikhtiyār, MS Seld. 29, Oxford, Bodleian Library. Ibn al-Qalqashandī, Qalāʾid al-jumān fī muṣṭalaḥ mukātabāt ahl al-zamān, MS OR. 3625, London, BL. al-Kāshgharī, Tāj al-saʿāda fī l-naṣīḥa al-malakiyya, MS Aya Sofya 1690, Istanbul, Süleymaniye Kütüphanesi. al-Miknāsī, Kitāb fīhi faḍāʾil Bayt al-Maqdis wa-faḍāʾil al-Shām, MS 25, Tübingen, Universitätsbibliothek. al-Qudsī, Badhl al-naṣāʾiḥ al-sharʿiyya fīmā ʿalā l-sulṭān wa-wulāt al-umūr wa-sāʾir alraʿiyya, MS Pet. 593, Berlin, Staatsbibliothek.

Primary Sources (Printed) al-ʿAbbāsī, Āthār al-uwal fī tartīb al-duwal, ed. ʿA. al-R. ʿUmayra, Beirut 1989. al-ʿAynī, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir fī sīrat al-Malik al-Ẓāhir ‘Ṭaṭar,’ ed. H. Ernst, Cairo 1962. al-ʿAynī, al-Sayf al-muhannad fī sīrat al-Malik al-Muʾayyad Shaykh al-Maḥmūdī, ed. F.M. Shaltūt Cairo 1967. al-Biqāʿī, al-Istishhād bi-āyāt al-jihād, ed. M.ʿA. Ibrāhīm, Cairo 2002. Ibn ʿArabshāh, Fākihat al-khulafāʾ wa-mufākahat al-ẓurafāʾ, ed. A.ʿA. al-J. al-Buḥayrī, Cairo 2001. Ibn ʿArabshāh, al-Taʾlīf al-ṭāhir fī shiyam al-Malik al-Ẓāhir al-Qāʾim bi-nuṣrat al-ḥaqq Abī Saʿīd Jaqmaq, in S.A. Strong (ed.), Panegyric on Sultan Jaqmaq by Ibn ʿArabshah, in JRAS (1907), 395–6 (1–27). Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, al-Taʿrīf bi-l-muṣṭalaḥ al-sharīf, ed. S. al-Durūbī, 2 vols., alKarak 1992. Ibn al-Farrāʾ, Kitāb Rusul al-mulūk, ed. Ṣ. al-D. al-Munajjid, Cairo 1947, reprint Beirut 1972. Ibn Ḥijja, Das Rauschgetränk der Stilkunst oder Qahwat al-inšāʾ von Taqīyuddīn Abū Bakr. b. ʿAlī Ibn Ḥiǧǧa al-Ḥamawī al-Azrārī, ed. R. Veselý, Beirut and Berlin 2005. Ibn Jamāʿa, Taḥrīr al-aḥkām fī tadbīr ahl al-Islām, ed. ʿA.A. al-ʿUbayd, Riyadh 2012. Ibn Kathīr, al-Ijtihād fī ṭalab al-jihād, ed. Z. Naqshabandī, Damascus 2007. Ibn al-Naḥḥās, Mashāriʿ al-ashwāq ilā maṣāriʿ al-ʿushshāq wa-muthīr al-gharām ilā dār al-salām ( fī faḍāʾil al-jihād), ed. I.M. ʿAlī and M.K. Isṭanbūlī, 2 vols., Beirut 1990.

peace in premodern Islam: Theory and practice of diplomacy under the Mamluk sultanate (1250–1517) (Edinburgh University Press, forthcoming), that deals with most of the issues presented above, with a specific focus on the cultural and social aspects of the practice of diplomacy.

162

dekkiche

Ibn Nāẓir al-Jaysh, Tathqīf al-taʿrīf bi-l-muṣṭalaḥ al-sharīf, ed. R. Veselý, Cairo 1987. Niẓām al-Mulk, The book of government or rules for kings. The siyar al-muluk or siyasatnama of Nizam al-Mulk, trans. H. Darke, New York 2002 (1st ed. 1960). al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā fī ṣināʿat al-inshāʾ, ed. M.ʿA. al-R. Ibrāhīm, 14 vols., Cairo 1913–9, 21963. al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim fī ṣināʿat al-kātib wa-l-kātim, ed. A.M. Anas Mursī, 2 vols., Cairo 2009. al-Sarakhsī, Sharh al-siyar al-kabīr, 4 vols, Hyderabad 1916–7. al-Sulamī, Aḥkām al-jihād wa-faḍāʾiluh, ed. I.K. al-Ṭabbāʿ, Beirut and Damascus 1996. al-Suyūṭī, Arbaʿūn ḥadīthan fī faḍl al-jihād, ed. M.ʿA. Ibrāhīm, Cairo 1988.

Secondary Sources Abulafia, D., Marseilles, Acre and the Mediterranean, 1200–1291, in P.W. Edbury and D.M. Metcalf (eds.), Coinage in the Latin East: The fourth Oxford symposium on coinage and monetary history, Oxford 1980, 19–40. Abulafia, D., The impact of the Orient: Economic interactions between East and West in the medieval Mediterranean, in I.R. Netton and A. Dionisius (eds.), Across the Mediterranean frontiers: Trade, politics and religion, 650–1450, Turnhout 1997, 1–40. Abulafia, D., The Levant trade of the minor cities in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries: Strengths and weaknesses, in Asian and African Studies: Journal of the Israel Oriental Society 22/ 1–3 (1988), 183–202. Afsaruddin, A., The siyar laws of aggression: Juridical re-interpretations of Qurʾānic jihād and their contemporary implications for international law, in M.-L. Frick and A.Th. Müller (eds.), Islam and international law: Engaging self-centrism from a plurality of perspectives, Leiden and Boston 2013, 45–63. al-Ahwānī, ʿA., Sifāra siyāsiyya min Gharnaṭa ilā l-Qāhira fī l-qarn al-tāsiʿ al-hijrī (sanat 844), in Majallat Kulliyyat al-Ādāb, Jāmiʿat al-Qāhira 16/1 (1954), 95–121. Aigle, D. (ed.), Le Bilād al-Šām face aux mondes extérieurs: La Perception de l’Autre et la représentation du souverain, Damascus and Beirut 2012. Aigle, D., Les Invasions de Ghāzān Khān en Syrie. Polémiques sur sa conversion à l’islam et la présence de chrétiens dans ses armées, in D. Aigle (ed.), Le Bilād al-Šām face aux mondes extérieurs: La Perception de l’Autre et la représentation du souverain, Damascus and Beirut 2012, 293–324. Aigle, D., The Mongol invasions of Bilād al-Shām by Ghāzān Khān and Ibn Taymīyah’s three “Anti-Mongol” fatwas, in MSR 11/2 (2007), 89–120. Albrecht, S., Dār al-Islām and dār al-ḥarb, in EI3 online. Allouche, A., Tegüder’s ultimatum to Qalawun, in IJMES 22 (1990), 437–46. Amari, M., Al-ʿUmari, Condizioni degli Stati cristiani dell’Occidente secondo una relazione di Domenichino Doria da Genova, in Atti della Reale Accademia dei Lincei: Memorie della Classe di scienze morali, storiche e filologiche 11 (3rd ser.), (1882–3), 67– 103.

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

163

Amari, M., I diplomi arabi del R. Archivio fiorentino, Florence 1863. Amari, M., I diplomi arabi del R. Archivio fiorentino, Appendice, Florence 1867. Amīn, M.M., ʿAlāqāt dawlatay Mālī wa-Sunghāy bi-Miṣr fī ʿaṣr salāṭīn al-Mamālīk (1250– 1517 m.), in Majallat al-Dirāsāt al-Ifrīqiya 4 (1975), 273–312. Amitai, R., An exchange of letters in Arabic between Abaγa Īlkhān and Sultan Baybars (A.H.667/A.D.1268–69), in CAJ 38 (1994), 11–33. Amitai, R., Diplomacy and the slave trade in the eastern Mediterranean: A re-examination of the Mamluk-Byzantine-Genoese triangle in the late thirteenth century in light of the existing early correspondence, in OM 88/2 (2008), 349–68. Amitai, R., Holy war and rapprochement: Studies in the relations between the Mamluk sultanate and the Mongol ilkhanate (1260–1335), Turnhout 2013. Amitai, R., Mamlūk espionage among Mongols and Franks, in Asian and African Studies: Journal of the Israel Oriental Society 22/1–3 (1988), 173–81. Amitai, R., Mongol imperial ideology and the Ilkhanid war against the Mamluks, in D. Morgan and R. Amitai (eds.), The Mongol empire and its legacy, Leiden, Boston, and Cologne 1999, 57–72. Amitai, R., Mongols and Mamluks: The Mamluk-Īlkhānid war, 1260–1281, Cambridge 1995. Amitai, R., Muslim-Mongol diplomacy, in J. Meri (ed.), Medieval Islamic civilization: An encyclopedia, New York 2006, i, 540–2. Amitai, R., Northern Syria between the Mongols and Mamluks: Political boundary, military frontier, and ethnic affinities, in N. Standen and D. Power, Frontiers in question: Eurasian borderlands, 700–1700, Basingstoke and New York 1999, 128–52. Amitai, R., The resolution of the Mongol-Mamluk war, in A. Reuven and M. Biran (eds.), Mongols, Turks, and others: Eurasian nomads and the sedentary world, Leiden 2005, 359–90. Apellániz, F.J., Banquiers, diplomates et pouvoir sultanien: une affaire d’épices sous les Mamelouks circassiens, in AI 38/2 (2004), 285–304. Apellániz, F.J., Florentine networks in the Middle East in the early Renaissance, in MHR 30/2 (2015), 125–45. Apellániz, F.J., Pouvoir et finance en Méditerranée pré-moderne: Le deuxième état mamelouk et le commerce des épices (1382–1517), Madrid 2009. Arbel, B., La République de Venise face à la conquête ottomane de l’État mamelouk, in B. Lellouch and M. Nicolas (eds.), La Conquête ottomane de l’Egypte: Arrière-plan, impact, échos, Leiden and Boston 2012, 113–42. Arbel, B., Levantine power struggles in an unpublished Mamluk letter of 877AH/ 1473CE, in MHR 7 (1992), 92–100. Arbel, B., The last decades of Venice’s trade with the Mamluks: Importations into Egypt and Syria, in MSR 8/2 (2004), 37–86. Arbel, B., Venetian Cyprus and the Muslim Levant, 1473–1570, in N. Coureas and J. Riley-

164

dekkiche

Smith (eds.), Cyprus and the crusades/Kypros kai oi Staurophories (Papers given at the International Conference “Cyprus and the Crusades,” Nicosia, 6–9 September 1994), Nicosia 1995, 159–85. Arié, R., Les Relations diplomatiques et culturelles entre Musulmans d’Espagne et musulmans d’Orient au temps de Naṣrides, in Mélanges de la Casa de Velázquez 1 (1965), 87–107. Arjomand, S.A., Legitimacy and political organisation: Caliph, kings and regimes, in R. Irwin (ed.), New Cambridge history of Islam, vol. 4, Cambridge 2011, 225–73. Ashtor, E., Alfonso il Magnanimo e i Mamlucchi, in ASI 142 (1984), 3–29. Ashtor, E., East-West trade in the medieval Mediterranean, London 1986. Ashtor, E., Levant trade in the later middle ages, Princeton 1983. Ashtor, E., L’Exportation de textiles occidentaux dans le Proche Orient musulman au bas Moyen Âge (1370–1517), in Studi in memoria di Federigo Melis, vol. 2, Rome 1978, 391–432. Ashtor, E., Studies on the Levantine trade in the middle ages, London 1978. Ashtor, E., Venezia e il pellegrinaggio in Terrasanta nel basso medioevo, in ASI 143/2 (1985), 197–223. Ashtor, E. and B.Z. Kedar, Una guerra fra Genova e i Mamlucchi negli anni 1380, in ASI 133 (1975), 3–44. Āshūr, F. Ḥ., al-Jihād al-islāmī ḍidd al-Ṣalībiyyīn wa-l-Mughūl fī l-ʿaṣr al-mamlūkī, Tripoli, Lebanon 1995. ʿĀshūr, S.ʿA. al-F., Baʿḍ aḍwāʾ jadīda ʿalā l-ʿalāqāt bayna Miṣr wa-l-Ḥabasha fī-l-ʿuṣūr alwusṭā, in Buḥūth wa-Dirāsāt fī Tārīkh al-ʿUṣūr al-Wusṭā, Beirut 1977, 279–321. ʿĀshūr, S.ʿA. al-F., Salṭanat al-Mamālīk wa-mamlakat Armīniyya al-ṣughrā, in al-Muḥāḍarāt al-ʿāmma: al-Mawsim al-thaqāfī, 1967/1968, Cairo 133–84. Atiya, A.S., An unpublished XIVth-century fatwā on the status of foreigners in Mamlūk Egypt and Syria, in W. Heffening and W. Kirfel (eds.), Studien zur Geschichte und Kultur des Nahen und Fernen Ostens: Paul Kahle zum 60. Geburtstag überreicht von Freunden und Schülern aus dem Kreise des Orientalischen Seminars der Universität Bonn, Leiden 1935, 55–68. Atiya, A.S., Egypt and Aragon: Embassies and diplomatic correspondence between 1300 and 1330A.D. Leipzig: F.A. Brockhaus, 1938. Atiya, A.S., Mamlūk correspondence with Aragon in the XIVth century, in ZDMG 91 (1937), *19*. Bacharach, J.L., The dinar versus the ducat, in IJMES 4 (1973), 77–96. Balivet, M., Élites byzantines, latines et musulmanes: Quelques exemples de diplomatie personnalisée (Xe–XVe siècles), in A. Beihammer, M. Parani, and C. Schabel (eds.), Diplomatics in the eastern Mediterranean 1000–1500: Aspects of cross-cultural communication, Leiden 2008, 423–37. Barkindo, B., The royal pilgrimage tradition of the Saifawa of Kanem and Borno, in

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

165

J. Ade Ajayi and J. Peel (eds.), People and empires in African history: Essays in memory of Michael Crowder, London 1992, 1–20. Bauden, F., L’Achat d’esclaves et la rédemption des captifs à Alexandrie d’après deux documents arabes d’époque mamelouke conservés aux Archives de l’État à Venise (ASVe), in MUSJ 58 (2005), 269–325. Bauden, F., D’Alexandrie à Damas et retour: la poste privée à l’époque mamlouke à la lumière d’une commission accomplie pour le compte d’un Vénitien (821A.H./1418 È.C.), in U. Vermeulen and K. D’hulster (eds.), Egypt and Syria in the Fatimid, Ayyubid and Mamluk eras VI, Leuven 2010, 157–89. Bauden, F., Les Relations diplomatiques entre les sultans mamlouks circassiens et les autres pouvoirs du Dār al-islām: l’apport du ms. ar. 4440 (BNF, Paris), in AI 41 (2007), 1–29. Bauden, F., Mamlūk era documentary studies: The state of the art, in MSR 9/2 (2005), 15–60. Bāz, K. al-Ṣ., Mamālīk al-Nūba fī l-ʿaṣr al-mamlūkī: Iḍmiḥāluhā wa-suqūṭuhā wa-atharuh fī ntishār al-Islām fī Sūdān Wādī l-Nīl, 648–923 H./1250–1517 M., Cairo 2006. Beckingham, C.F., The pilgrimage and death of Sākūra, King of Mali, in BSOAS 15/2 (1953), 391–2. Birks, J.S., Across the savannas to Mecca: The overland pilgrimage route from West Africa, London 1978. Bonner, M., Jihad in Islamic history: Doctrines and practice, Princeton 2006. Bosworth, C.E., Arab attacks on Rhodes in the pre-Ottoman period, in Y.Y. al-Hijji and V. Christides (eds.), Aspects of Arab seafaring: An attempt to fill in the gaps of maritime history, Athens 2002, 63–74. Brett, M., Lingua franca in the Mediterranean: John Wansbrough and the historiography of Medieval Egypt, in H. Kennedy (ed.), The historiography of Islamic Egypt, c. 950–1800, Leiden and Boston 2001, 1–11. Broadbridge, A.F., Kingship and ideology in the Islamic and Mongol worlds, Cambridge 2008. Broadbridge, A.F., Mamluk legitimacy and the Mongols: The reigns of Baybars and Qalāwūn, in MSR 5 (2001), 91–118. Brummett, P., The transformation of Venetian diplomatic policy prior to the conquest of Cairo (1503–1517), in Studies on Ottoman Diplomatic History 1 (1987), 11–26. Bsoul, L.A., International treaties (Muʿāhadāt) in Islam: Theory and practice in the light of Islamic international law (siyar) according to orthodox schools, Lanham MD 2008. Bsoul, L.A., Islamic diplomacy: Views of the classical jurists, in M.-L. Frick and A.Th. Müller (eds.), Islam and international law: Engaging self-centrism from a plurality of perspectives, Leiden and Boston 2013, 127–45. Cahen, C., Pre-Ottoman Turkey: A general survey of the material and spiritual culture and history c.1071–1330, New York 1968.

166

dekkiche

Calasso, G., and G. Lancioni (eds.), Dār al-islām/dār al-ḥarb: Territories, people, identities, Leiden 2017. Canard, M., Byzance et les musulmans du Proche Orient, London 1973. Canard, M., Le Royaume d’Arménie-Cilicie et les Mamlouks jusqu’au traité de 1285, in Revue des études arméniennes 4 (1967), 217–59. Canard, M., Le Traité de 1281 entre Michel Paléologue et le Sultan Qalâʾun, Qalqashandî, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshâʾ, XIV, in Byzantion 10 (1935), 669–80. Canard, M., Les Relations diplomatiques entre Byzance et l’Égypte dans le Ṣubḥ al-Aʿshâ de Qalqashandî, in Atti del XIX Congresso Internazionale degli Orientalisti (Rome, 23– 29 September 1935), Rome 1935, 579–80. Canard, M., Les Relations entre les Mérinides et les Mamelouks au XIVe siècle, in AIÉOA 5 (1941), 41–81. Canard, M., Un traité entre Byzance et l’Égypte au XIIIe siècle et les relations diplomatiques de Michel VIII Paléologue avec les sultans mamlûks Baibars et Qalâʾûn, in Mélanges Gaudefroy-Demombynes, Cairo 1935–45, 197–224. Canard, M., Une lettre du Sultan Malik Nâṣir Ḥasan à Jean VI Cantacuzène (750/1349), in AIÉOA 3 (1939), 27–52. Carswell, J., China and the Middle East, in Oriental Art 45/1 (1999), 2–14. Cateura Bennàsser, P., Mundos mediterráneos: el reino de Mallorca y el sultanato mameluco (siglos XIII–XV), in Espacio, Tiempo y Forma: Serie III 13 (2000), 85–101. Chapoutot-Remadi, M., Les Relations entre l’Égypte et l’Ifriqya aux XIIIe et XIVe siècle d’après les autres [sic] Mamlûks, in Actes du premier congrès d’histoire et de la civilisation du Maghreb / Ashghāl al-muʾtamar al-awwal li-tārīkh al-Maghrib al-ʿarabī wa-ḥaḍāratih, vol. 1 (Tunis, December 1974), Tunis 1979, 139–59. Christ, G., A newsletter in 1419? Antonio Morosini’s chronicle in the light of commercial correspondence between Venice and Alexandria, in MHR 20/1 (2005), 35–66. Christ, G., Beyond the network—connectors of networks: Venetian agents in Cairo and Venetian news management, in S. Conermann (ed.), Everything is on the move: The Mamluk empire as a node in (trans-)regional networks, Goettingen 2014, 27–60. Christ, G., The Venetian consul and the cosmopolitan mercantile community of Alexandria at the beginning of the ninth/fifteenth century, in al-Masāq 26/1 (2014), 62– 77. Christ, G., Trading conflicts: Venetian merchants and Mamluk officials in late medieval Alexandria, Leiden 2012. Christides, V., Cyprus between East and West: The French kingdom of Lusignans, an appendage to the Latin kingdom, vs. the Mamluks, in M.J. Viguera (ed.), Ibn Khaldun: The Mediterranean in the 14th century: Rise and fall of empires: Exhibition in the real Alcázar of Seville, May–September 2006: Studies, Seville 2006, 98–105. Claverie, P.V., La Contribution des Templiers de Catalogne à la défense de la Syrie franque (1290–1310), in U. Vermeulen and J. Van Steenbergen (eds.), Egypt and

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

167

Syria in the Fatimid, Ayyubid and Mamluk Eras III (Proceedings of the 6th, 7th and 8th International Colloquium, Katholieke Universiteit Leuven, May 1997, 1998, and 1999), Leuven 2001, 171–92. Clermont-Ganneau, C., Explication d’un passage du traité conclu entre le sultan Qelaoun et les Génois, in Recueil d’archéologie orientale, Paris 1888, 219–23. Clifford, W.W., Some observations on the course of Mamluk-Safavi relations (1502– 1516/908–922): I, in Der Islam 70/2 (1993), 245–65. Clifford, W.W., Some observations on the course of Mamluk-Safavi relations (1502– 1516/908–922): II, in Der Islam 70/2 (1993), 266–78. Cobb, P.M., The race for paradise: An Islamic history of the crusades, Oxford 2014. Colin, G.S., Contribution à l’étude des relations diplomatiques entre les musulmans d’Occident et l’Égypte au XVe siècle, in Mélanges Maspero, Cairo 1940, 197–206. Constable, O.R., Funduq and fondaco in the medieval Islamic world, in Bulletin of the Royal Institute for Inter-Faith Studies 3/1 (2001), 17–30. Constable, O.R., Housing the stranger in the Mediterranean world: Lodging, trade, and travel in late antiquity and the middle ages, Cambridge 2003. Coote, L.A., A letter from Babylon: Henry VI and the sultan of Syria, in al-Masāq 14/1 (2002), 17–24. Coulon, D., Ascensión, apogeo y caída de Joan Lombarda, mercader-armador de Barcelona, comprometido en el comercio con el Mediterráneo oriental (segundo tercio del siglo XIV), in M.T. Ferrer i Mallol and D. Coulon (eds.), L’expansió catalana a la Mediterrània a la Baixa Edat Mitjana (Actes del séminaire/seminari organitzat per la Casa de Velázquez (Madrid) i la Institució Milà i Fontanals (CSIC, Barcelona) Barcelona, 20 April 1998), Barcelona 1999, 15–25. Coulon, D., Barcelone et le grand commerce d’Orient au Moyen Âge. Un siècle de relations avec l’Égypte et la Syrie-Palestine (ca. 1330–ca. 1430), Madrid and Barcelona 2004. Coulon, D., Le Commerce barcelonais avec la Syrie et l’Égypte d’après les actes du notaire Tomàs de Bellmunt (1402–1416), in M. Balard and A. Ducellier (eds.), Le Partage du monde: échanges et colonisation dans la Méditerranée médiévale, Paris 1998, 203–29. Coulon, D., Les Marchands catalans installés en Égypte et en Syrie-Palestine aux XIVe et XVe siècles: essai d’évaluation, in M. Balard and A. Ducellier (eds.), Migrations et diasporas méditerranéennes (Xe–XVIe siècles) (Actes du colloque de Conques, Conques, 14–18 October 1999), Paris 2002, 501–11. Coulon, D., Négocier avec les sultans de la Méditerranée orientale à la fin du Moyen Âge: Un domaine privilégié pour les hommes d’affaires?, in M.T. Ferrer Mallol et al. (eds.), Negociar en la Edad Media. Négocier au Moyen Âge (Actes du colloque tenu à Barcelone du 14 au 16 octobre 2004), Barcelona 2005, 503–26. Coulon, D., Un tournant dans les relations catalano-aragonaises avec la Méditerranée orientale: la nouvelle politique d’Alphonse le Magnanime (1416–1442 environ), in

168

dekkiche

G. d’Agostino and G. Buffardi (eds.), XVI Congresso Internazionale di Storia della Corona d’Aragona. Atti (La Corona d’Aragona ai tempi di Alfonso il Magnanimo: I modelli politico-istituzionali. La circolazione degli uomini, delle idee, delle merci. Gli influssi sulla società e sul costume. Celebrazioni Alfonsine, Napoli, Caserta, and Ischia, 18–24 September, 1997), Napoli 2000, 1055–79. Coureas, N., Commerce between Mamluk Egypt and Hospitaller Rhodes in the midfifteenth century: The case of Sidi Galip Ripolli, in U. Vermeulen and K. D’hulster (eds.), Egypt and Syria in the Fatimid, Ayyubid and Mamluk eras VI, Leuven 2010, 207– 17. Coureas, N., Commercial relations between Genoese Famagusta and the Mamluk sultanate, 1374–1464, in U. Vermeulen, K. D’hulster, and J. Van Steenbergen (eds.), Egypt and Syria in the Fatimid, Ayyubid, and Mamluk Eras VII, Leuven 2013, 329–50. Coureas, N., Envoys between the Mamlūk lands and Cyprus under Venice (1473–1517), in U. Vermeulen, K. D’hulster, and J. Van Steenbergen (eds.), Egypt and Syria in the Fatimid, Ayyubid and Mamluk eras VIII, Leuven 2016, 365–78. Coureas, N., Latin Cyprus and its relation with the Mamluk sultanate: 1250–1517, in A.J. Boas (ed.), The crusader world, London and New York 2016, 391–418. Coureas, N., Losing the war but winning the peace: Cyprus and Mamluk Egypt in the fifteenth century, in U. Vermeulen, K. D’hulster, and J. Van Steenbergen (eds.), Egypt and Syria in the Fatimid, Ayyubid, and Mamluk eras VII, Leuven 2013, 351–62. Coureas, N., Mamluks in the Cypriot chronicle of George Boustronios and their place within a wider context, in K. D’hulster and J. Van Steenbergen (eds.), Continuity and change in the realms of Islam: Studies in honour of professor Urbain Vermeulen, Leuven 2008, 135–49. Coureas, N., The Coptic presence in Cyprus during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, in U. Vermeulen and K. D’hulster (eds.), Egypt and Syria in the Fatimid, Ayyubid and Mamluk eras V (Proceedings of the 11th, 12th, and 13th International Colloquium Katholieke Universiteit Leuven, May 2002, 2003, and 2004), Leuven 2007, 439–50. Coureas, N., The dispatch of envoys between Mamlūk Cyprus and Lusignan Cyprus: Evidence from the Chronicle of Leontios Makhairas, in U. Vermeulen, K. D’hulster, and J. Van Steenbergen (eds.), Egypt and Syria in the Fatimid, Ayyubid and Mamluk eras VIII, Leuven 2016, 349–64. Coureas, N., The tribute paid to the Mamluk sultanate, 1426–1517: The perspective from Lusignan and Venetian Cyprus, in U. Vermeulen, K. D’hulster, and J. Van Steenbergen (eds.), Egypt and Syria in the Fatimid, Ayyubid, and Mamluk eras VII, Leuven 2013, 363–80. Coureas, N., Trade between Cyprus and the Mamluk lands in the fifteenth century, with special reference to Nicosia and Famagusta, in U. Vermeulen and K. D’hulster (eds.), Egypt and Syria in the Fatimid, Ayyubid and Mamluk eras V (Proceedings of the 11th,

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

169

12th, and 13th International Colloquium Katholieke Universiteit Leuven, May 2002, 2003, and 2004), Leuven 2007, 419–38. Crowe, Y., Gujarat and Mamlūk Egypt: A pattern link, in K. Frifelt and P. Sorensen (eds.), South Asian archaeology 1985 (Papers from the Eighth International Conference of South Asian Archaeologists in Western Europe, Moesgaard Museum, Denmark, 1– 5 July 1985), London and Riverdale, MD 1989, 459–64. Curatola, G., Venetian merchants and travellers in Alexandria, in A. Hirst and M. Silk (eds.), Alexandria, real and imagined, Aldershot 2004, 185–98. Cutler, A., Gifts and gift exchange as aspects of the Byzantine, Arab, and related economies, in Dumbarton Oaks Papers 55 (2001), 247–78. Daoulatli, ʿA. al-ʿA., Les Relations entre le Sultan Qalaʾun et l’Ifriqiya d’après deux documents égyptiens (680 Hg./1281 J.C.–689 Hg./1290 J.C.), in ROMM 17, (1974), 43–62. Darrāj, A., Jam Sulṭān wa-l-diblūmāsiyya al-duwaliyya, in al-Majalla al-Tārīkhiyya alMiṣriyya 8 (1959), 201–42. Darrāj, A., L’Égypte sous le règne de Barsbay, 825–841/1422–1438, Damascus 1961. Darrāj, A., Les Relations commerciales entre l’État mamlouk et la France, in Majallat Kulliyyat al-Ādāb, Jāmiʿat al-Iskandariyya 25/2 (1963), 1–21. Darrāj, A., Risālatān bayna Sulṭān Mālwa wa-l-Ashraf Qāytbāy, in Majallat Maʿhad alMakhṭūṭāt al-ʿArabiyya 4/1 (1958/1377), 97–123. Davids, T.W.R., A Ceylon embassy to Egypt, in JRAS (1891), 479. al-Dawoody, A., The Islamic law of war: Justifications and regulations, New York 2011. Dekkiche, M., Correspondence between Mamluks and Timurids in the fifteenth century: An unpublished corpus of official letters (BnF, MS ar. 4440), in ES 11 (2013), 131–60. Dekkiche, M., Crossing the line: Mamluk response to Qaramanid threat in the fifteenth century according to MS ar. 4440 (BnF, Paris), in BSOAS 80/2 (2017), 253–81. Dekkiche, M., Diplomacy at its zenith: A case of study: Agreement between the Mamluks and the Timurids on the sending of the kiswa, in A. Levanoni (ed.), Egypt and Syria under Mamluk rule: Political, social and cultural aspects, Leiden forthcoming. Dekkiche, M., Keeping the peace in premodern Islam: Theory and practice of diplomacy under the Mamluk sultanate (1250–1517), Edinburgh forthcoming. Dekkiche, M., Le Caire, carrefour des ambassades. Étude historique et diplomatiqie de la correspondence échangée entre les sultans mamlouks circassiens et les souverains timourides et turcomans (Qara Qoyunlu–Qaramanides) au XVe s. d’après le ms. ar. 4440 (BnF, Paris), 2 vols., PhD dissertation, University of Liège 2011. Dekkiche, M., Making peace within the Islamic world: Islamic tradition and the “lettertreaty” in Mamluk diplomacy, in Zeitschrift für historische Forschung (2017). Dekkiche, M., New source, new debate: Re-evaluation of the Mamluk-Timurid struggle for religious supremacy in the Hijar (Paris, BnF MS ar. 4440), in MSR 18 (2014–5), 247–71.

170

dekkiche

Dekkiche, M., The letter and its response: The exchanges between the Qara Qoyunlu and the Mamluk sultan: MS Arabe 4440 (BnF, Paris), in Arabica 63 (2016), 1–47. de la Torre, A., La embajada a Egipto de Pedro Mártir de Anglería, in Homenatge a Antonio Rubió i Lluch: miscellània d’estudis literaris històrics i lingüístics, Barcelona 1936, 433–50. De Ros, Á.M., La corona de Aragón y los estados del Norte de África: política de Jaime II y Alfonso IV en Egipto, Ifriquía y Tremecén, Barcelona 1951. Desimoni, C., Actes passés en 1271, 1274 et 1279 à l’Aïas (petite Arménie) et à Beyrouth par devant des notaires génois, in Archives de l’Orient latin, Paris 1881, 434–534. Dölger, F., Der Vertrag des Sultans Qalāʾūn von Ägypten mit dem Kaiser Michael VIII. Palaiologos (1281), in F. Dölger, Byzantinische Diplomatik: 20 Aufsätze zum Urkundenwesen der Byzantiner, Ettal 1956, 225–44. Doumerc, B., Documents commerciaux en langue d’oc enregistrés à Alexandrie par les notaires vénitiens (fin XIVe–début XVe siècle), in Annales du Midi 99/178 (1987), 227– 44. Doumerc, B., Les Marchands du Midi à Alexandrie au XVe siècle., in Annales du Midi 97/171 (1985), 269–84. Duri, A.A., Dīwān, in EI2. al-Durubī, S., Muqqadima fī dirāsat al-tarjama wa-l-tarājima fī dīwān al-inshāʾ al-mamlūkī, Amman 2008. Edbury, P.W., Cyprus, commerce and crusade: King Peter I and the background to the sack of Alexandria in 1365, in Bulletin de la Société archéologique d’Alexandrie 44 (1991), 206–14. Edbury, P.W., The crusading policy of King Peter I of Cyprus, 1359–1369, in P.M. Holt (ed.), The eastern Mediterranean lands in the period of the crusades, Warminster 1977, 90–105. Edbury, P.W., The kingdom of Cyprus and the crusades, 1191–1374, Cambridge 1991. Edbury, P.W., The Lusignan kingdom of Cyprus and its Muslim neighbours, in P.W. Edbury, Kingdoms of the crusaders: From Jerusalem to Cyprus, Aldershot 1999, 223– 42. Ehrenkreutz, A.S., Strategic implications of the slave trade between Genoa and Mamluk Egypt in the second half of the thirteenth century, in A.L. Udovitch (ed.), The Islamic Middle East, 700–1900, Princeton 1981, 335–45. Favereau, M., Comment le sultan mamlouk s’adressait au khan de la Horde d’Or: formulaire des lettres et règles d’usage d’après trois manuels de chancellerie (1262– v. 1430), in AI 41 (2007), 59–95. Favereau, M. (ed.), Les Conventions diplomatiques dans le monde musulman. L’umma en partage (1258–1517), in AI 41 (2007). Ferrer i Mallol, M.T., El consolat de mar i els consolats d’ultramar, instrument i manifestació de l’expansió del comerç català, in M.T. Ferrer i Mallol and D. Coulon

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

171

(eds.), L’expansió catalana a la Mediterrània a la Baixa Edat Mitjana (Actes del séminaire/seminari organitzat per la Casa de Velázquez (Madrid) i la Institució Milà i Fontanals (CSIC, Barcelona), Barcelona, 20 April 1998), Barcelona 1999, 53–79. Fischel, W.J., Ibn Khaldūn and Tamerlane: Their historic meeting in Damascus, 1401A.D. (803A.H.): A study based on Arabic manuscripts of Ibn Khaldūn’s “Autobiography,” with a translation into English, and a commentary, Berkeley 1952. Fischel, W.J., Ibn Khaldûn and Tîmûr, Bulletin des études arabes (Algiers) 10, 47 (1950), 61. Frenkel, Y., Jihād in the medieval Mediterranean sea: Naval war and religious endowment under the Mamluks, in S. Leder (ed.), Crossroads between Latin Europe and the Near East: Corollaries of the Frankish presence in the eastern Mediterranean (12th–14th centuries), Würzburg 2011, 103–25. Frick, M.-L. and Müller, A.T. (eds.), Islam and international law: Engaging self-centrism from a plurality of perspectives, Leiden and Boston 2013. Frigo, D., Introduction, in D. Frigo and A. Belton (eds.), Politics and diplomacy in early modern Italy: The stucture of diplomatic practice, 1450–1800, Cambridge 2000, 1–24. Fubini, R., Diplomacy and government in the Italian city-states of the fifteenth century (Florence and Venice), in D. Frigo and A. Belton (eds.), Politics and diplomacy in early modern Italy: The stucture of diplomatic practice, 1450–1800, Cambridge 2000, 25–48. Fuess, A., Handel und Piraterie. Die syro-palästinensische Küste in mamlukischer Zeit (1291–1517), in S. Wild and H. Schild (eds.), Norm und Abweichung (Akten des 27. Deutschen Orientalistentages Bonn, 28 September–2 October 1998), Würzburg 2001, 279–90. Fuess, A., Verbranntes Ufer: Auswirkungen mamlukischer Seepolitik auf Beirut und die syro-palästinensiche Küste (1250–1517), Leiden 2001. Fuess, A., Why Venice, not Genoa: How Venice emerged as the Mamluks’ favourite European trading partner after 1365, in G. Christ, F.-J. Morche, R. Kaiser, S. Burkhardt, and A. Beihammer (eds.), Union in separation: Diasporic groups and identities in the eastern Mediterranean (1100–1800), Paris 2015, 251–66. Gabrieli, F., Le ambascerie di Baibars a Manfredi, in Studi medievali in onore di Antonino de Stefano, Palermo 1956, 219–25. Gaudefroy-Demombynes, M., Une ambassade serbo-bulgare au Caire, in Mélanges offerts à M. Nicolas Iorga par ses amis de France et des pays de langue française, Paris 1933, 287–94. Gelli-Helewy, H., Bagdad nach dem Sturz des Kalifats: die Geschichte einer Provinz unter ilhānischer Herrschaft (656–735/1258–1335), Berlin 2000. Ghinzoni, P., Un ambasciatore del Soldano d’Egitto alla corte milanese del 1476, in Archivio Storico Lombardo 2 (1875), 155–78. Gilet, J., Genèse des relations entre Arméniens et Mamelouks. La bataille de Marrī, première attaque sur le Bilād Sīs (664/1266), in D. Aigle (ed.), Le Bilād al-Šām face aux

172

dekkiche

mondes extérieurs: La Perception de l’Autre et la représentation du souverain, Damascus and Beirut 2012, 263–92. Golubovich, G., 1303–5.—Terra Santa e Aragona.—Prima (1303) e seconda (1305) ambasciata di Giacomo II di Aragona al Soldano d’Egitto a prò dei Cristiani e de’ Luoghi Santi di Gerusalemme, in Golubovich (ed.), Biblioteca bio-bibliografica della Terra Santa e dell’Oriente francescano, Florence 1919, 73–86. Golubovich, G., 1314–18.—Terra Santa e Aragona.—Terza ambasciata di Giacomo II d’Aragona al Soldano di Egitto a prò de’ Luoghi Santi di Gerusalemme nel 1314.— E di una quarta ambasciata dello stesso nel 1318, in Golubovich (ed.), Biblioteca bio-bibliografica della Terra Santa e dell’Oriente francescano, Florence 1919, 185– 87. Golubovich, G., 1322.—Terra Santa e Aragona.—Una quinta ambasciata di Giacomo II al Soldano di Egitto per ristabilire i Monaci Latini al servizio del S. Sepolcro.—Di una Missione di 12 frati Domenicani a Gerusalemme nel 1323, in Golubovich (ed.), Biblioteca bio-bibliografica della Terra Santa e dell’Oriente francescano, Florence 1919, 232–7. Golubovich, G., 1327.—Terra Santa e Aragona.—Sesta e ultima ambasciata di Giacomo II al Soldano di Egitto (20 agosto 1327).—I Frati Minori già stabiliti al servizio del S. Sepolcro in Gerusalemme, ecc., in Golubovich (ed.), Biblioteca bio-bibliografica della Terra Santa e dell’Oriente francescano, Florence 1919, 309–18. Golubovich, G., 1394.—Terra Santa.—Bertrando Mignanelli in Oriente—I FF. Minori di Terra Santa—L’ambasciata del Duca di Milano al Soldano ecc., in Golubovich (ed.), Biblioteca bio-bibliografica della Terra Santa e dell’Oriente francescano, Florence 1927, 301–4. Gonzalez Maurazos, G., La documentacion diplómatica entre la Corona de Aragón y el Sultanato Mameluco durante el reinado de Jaime II: Un ejemplo de las transformaciones en las relaciones internacionales del ámbito mediterráneo en la Baja Edad Media, in Anales de la Universidad de Alicante 11 (1996–7), 395–403. Gray, B., The export of Chinese porcelain to the Islamic world: Some reflections on its significance for Islamic art, before 1400, in Transactions of the Oriental Ceramic Society 41 (1975–7), 231–61. Grotzfeld, H., Arnold von Harffs Aufenthalt in Kairo 1497A.D.: Wahrheit oder Dichtung?, in U. Vermeulen and J.M.F. Van Reeth (eds.), Law, Christianity and modernism in Islamic society (Proceedings of the Eighteenth Congress of the Union Européenne des Arabisants et Islamisants, Katholieke Universiteit Leuven, 3–9 September 1996), Leuven 1998, 199–211. Guest, A.R., A Servian embassy to Egypt in the fourteenth century, in JRAS (1913), 1047– 8. Ḥabashī, Ḥ., The Egyptian expeditions against Castelrosso and Rhodes, in Hawliyyāt Kulliyyat al-Ādāb, Jāmiʿat ʿAyn Shams 6 (1961), 51–69.

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

173

al-Ḥajjī, Ḥ.N., al-ʿAlāqāt bayna salṭanat al-Mamālīk wa-l-Mamālik al-Isbāniyya fī-l-qarnayn al-thāmin wa-l-tāsiʿ al-hijrī/al-rābiʿ wa-l-khāmis ʿashar al-milādī, Kuwait 1980. al-Ḥajjī, Ḥ.N., al-ʿAlāqāt bayna salṭanat al-Mamālīk wa-l-Nūba, in Dirāsāt fī tārīkh salṭanat al-Mamālīk fī Miṣr wa-l-Shām 1, Kuwait 1986, 19–72. Halperin C.J., The Kipchak connection: The Ilkhans, the Mamluks and Ayn Jalut, in BSOAS 63/2 (2000), 229–45. al-Ḥamdānī, Ṭ.N., ʿAlāqāt al-Mamālīk al-miṣriyyīn al-siyāsiyya bi-l-dawlatayn al-ṣafawiyya wa-l-ʿuthmāniyya fī maṭlaʿ al-qarn al-sādis ʿashar, in al-Majalla al-ʿArabiyya lil-ʿUlūm al-Insāniyya 5/17 (1985), 154–68. Har-El, Sh., Struggle for domination in the Middle East: The Ottoman-Mamluk war, 1485– 91, Leiden 1995. Hattox, R.S., Qāytbāy’s diplomatic dilemma concerning the flight of Cem Sultan (1481– 82), in MSR 6 (2002), 177–90. Heck, P.L., “Jihād” revisited, in Journal of Religious Ethics 32/1 (2004), 95–128. Hillenbrand, C., Crusades: Islamic perspectives, New York 2000. Holt, P.M., Baybars’s treaty with the Lady of Beirut in 667/1269, in P.W. Edbury (ed.), Crusade and settlement: Papers read at the first conference of the society for the study of the crusades and the Latin East and presented to R.C. Smail, Cardiff 1985, 242–5. Holt, P.M., Early Mamluk diplomacy (1260–1290): Treaties of Baybars and Qalāwūn with Christian Rulers, Leiden 1995. Holt, P.M., Mamluk-Frankish diplomatic relations in the reign of Baybars (658–76/ 1260–77), in Nottingham Medieval Studies 32 (1988), 180–95. Holt, P.M., Mamluk-Frankish diplomatic relations in the reign of Qalāwūn (678–89/ 1279–90), in JRAS 2 (1989), 278–89. Holt, P.M., al-Nāṣir Muḥammad’s letter to a Spanish ruler in 699/1300, in al-Masāq 3 (1990), 23–29. Holt, P.M., Qalāwūn’s treaty with Acre in 1283, in English Historical Review 91 (1976), 802–12. Holt, P.M., Qalāwūn’s treaty with Genoa in 1290, in Der Islam 57 (1980), 101–8. Holt, P.M., Qalāwūn’s treaty with the Latin kingdom (682/1283): Negotiation and abrogation, in U. Vermeulen and D. De Smet (eds.), Egypt and Syria in the Fatimid, Ayyubid and Mamluk eras (Proceedings of the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd International Colloquium, Katholieke Universiteit Leuven, May, 1992, 1993, and 1994), Leuven 1995, 325–34. Holt, P.M., The Īlkhān Aḥmad’s embassies to Qalāwūn: Two contemporary accounts, in BSOAS 49 (1986), 128–32. Holt, P.M., The Mamluk sultanate and Aragon: The treaties of 689/1290 and 692/1293, in Tārīḫ 2 (1992), 105–18. Holt, P.M., The treaties of the early Mamluk sultans with the Frankish states, in BSOAS 43 (1980), 67–76. Holt, P.M., Treaties between the Mamluk Sultans and the Frankish authorities, in

174

dekkiche

W. Voigt (ed.), XIX. Deutscher Orientalistentag: Vorträge, (Freiburg im Breisgau, 28 September–4 October 1975), Wiesbaden 1977, 474–6. Horii, Y., The Mamlūk sultan Qānṣūh al-Ghawrī (1501–16) and the Venetians in Alexandria, in Orient: Report of the Society for Near Eastern Studies in Japan 38 (2003), 178– 99. Horst, H., Eine Gesandschaft des Mamlūken al-Malik an-Nāṣir im Īlḫān-Hof in Persien, in W. Hoenerbach (ed.), Der Orient in der Forschung: Festschrift für Otto Speis zum 5 April 1966, Wiesbaden 1967, 348–70. Hours, F., Fraude commerciale et politique internationale: Les relations entre l’Égypte et Venise d’après une lettre de Qayt Bay (1472–1473), in BÉO 25 (1972), 173–83. Howard, D., Death in Damascus: Venetians in Syria in the mid-fifteenth century, in Muqarnas: An Annual on the Visual Culture of the Islamic World 20 (2003), 143–57. Humphreys, R.S., Ayyubids, Mamluks, and the Latin east in the thirteenth century, in MSR 2 (1998), 1–17. Hunwick, J., Notes on a late fifteenth-century document concerning ‘al-Takrūr’, in C. Allen and R.W. Johnson (eds.), African perspectives: Papers in the history, politics and economics of Africa presented to Thomas Hodgkin, Cambridge 1970, 7–33. Irwin, R., Islam and the crusades, 1096–1699, in J. Riley-Smith (ed.), Oxford illustrated history of the crusades, Oxford 1995, 217–59. Irwin, R., The Mamlūk conquest of the county of Tripoli, in P.W. Edbury (ed.), Crusade and settlement: Papers read at the first conference of the society for the study of the crusades and the Latin east and presented to R.C. Smail, Cardiff 1985, 246–50. Irwin, R., The supply of money and the direction of trade in thirteenth-century Syria, in P.W. Edbury and D.M. Metcalf (eds.), Coinage in the Latin east: The fourth Oxford symposium on coinage and monetary history, Oxford 1980, 73–104. Ismāʿīl, L.ʿA. al-J., ʿAlāqat al-Ṣirb wa-l-Bulghār bi-Miṣr khilāl salṭanat al-Nāṣir Muḥammad b. Qalāwūn al-thālitha 709–742 H/1309–1341 M., in AI 35/2 (2001), 61–75. Istanbuli, Y., Diplomacy and diplomatic practice in the early Islamic era, Oxford 2001. Jacoby, D., Les Italiens en Égypte aux XIIe et XIIIe siècles: du comptoir à la colonie?, in M. Balard and A. Ducellier (eds.), Coloniser au Moyen Âge, Paris 1995, 102–7. Jacoby, D., Pèlerinage médiéval et sanctuaires de Terre Sainte: La perspective vénitienne, in Ateneo veneto 173 (1986), 27–58. Karabacek, J. von, Arabische Beiträge zur genuesischen Geschichte, in WZKM 1 (1887), 33–58. Karabacek, J. von, Eine Gesandtschaft Rudolf’s von Habsburg nach Aegypten, in Oesterreichische Monatsschrift für den Orient 5 (1879), 4–7. Kchir, K., À propos d’une correspondance diplomatique entre le sultan marīnide Abū al-Ḥasan et le sultan mamlûk aṣ-Ṣāliḥ Ismāʿīl en 745 H/1344–45 C., in Les Cahiers de Tunisie 48/169–170 (1995), 127–36. Kedar, B.Z., Segurano-Sakrān Salvaygo: un mercante genovese al servizio dei sultani

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

175

mamalucchi, c. 1303–1322, in B.Z. Kedar (ed.), The Franks and the Levant, 11th to 14th centuries, Aldershot, Hampshire, and Brookfield VT 1993, 75–91. Kerslake, C.J., The correspondence between Selīm I and Ḳānṣūh al-Ğawrī, in Prilozi za orijentalnu filologiju [Revue de philologie orientale] 30 (1980), 219–34. Khadduri, Majid, The Islamic law of nations: Shaybānī’s Siyar, Baltimore 1966. al-Khūlī, A., Min rūḥ al-tārīkh: Ṣilā bayn al-Nīl wa-l-Vūljā, Cairo 1964. Köhler, M., Alliances and treaties between Frankish and Muslim rulers in the Middle East: Cross-cultural diplomacy in the period of the crusades, trans., revised, ed., and intro. by P. Holt and K. Hirschler, Leiden 2013. Korobeinikov, D.A., Diplomatic correspondence between Byzantium and the Mamlūk sultanate in the fourteenth century, in al-Masāq 16/1 (2004), 53–74. Krekić, B., Dubrovnik (Raguse) et le Levant au Moyen Âge, The Hague 1961. Kürkçüoğlu, Ö., The adoption and use of permanent diplomacy, in A. Nuri Yurdusev (ed.), Ottoman diplomacy: Conventional or unconventional?, New York 2004, 131–50. Labīb, Ṣ., Ein Brief des Mamluken Sultans Qāʾitbey an den Dogen von Venedig aus dem Jahre 1473, in Der Islam 32 (1957), 324–9. Lazzarini, I., Communication and conflict: Italian diplomacy in the early renaissance, 1350–1520, Oxford 2015. Levtzion, N., Mamluk Egypt and Takrūr (West Africa), in M. Sharon (ed.), Studies in Islamic history and civilization in honour of Professor David Ayalon, Leiden 1986, 183– 208. Little, D.P., Diplomatic missions and gifts exchanged by Mamluks and Ilkhans, in L. Komaroff (ed.), Beyond the legacy of Genghis Khan, Leiden 2006, 30–42. Little, D.P., Notes on Aitamiš, a Mongol Mamlūk, in U. Haarmann and P. Bachmann (eds.), Die islamische Welt zwischen Mittelalter und Neuzeit: Festschrift für Hans Robert Roemer zum 65. Geburtstag, Beirut and Wiesbaden 1979, 387–401. Lopez De Meneses, A., Los consulados catalanes de Alejandria y Damasco en el reinado de Pedro el Ceremonioso, in Estudios de Edad Media de la Corona de Aragon 6, Zaragoza 1956, 83–183. Lopez De Meneses, A., Un siglo del consulado de los catalanes en Alejandria (1416– 1516), in IX Congresso di Storia della Corona d’Aragona, (La Corona d’Aragona e il Mediterraneo: aspetti e problemi comuni da Alfonso il Magnanimo a Ferdinando il Cattolico (1416–1516), vol. 2, Napoli, 11–15 April 1973), Napoli 1982, 225–42. Lucena, P., Embajadores granadinos en El Cairo, in MEAH 4 (1955), 5–30. Mansouri, M.T., Byzantins, Mamluks et Mongols aux alentours de 1265. La politique étrangère de Michel VIII Paléologue au début de son règne, in Byzantiaka 12 (1992), 315–24. Mansouri, M.T., Les Communautés marchandes occidentales dans l’espace mamlouk (XIIIe–XVe siècle), in M. Balard and A. Ducellier (eds.), Coloniser au Moyen Âge, Paris 1995, 89–101, 107–11.

176

dekkiche

Mansouri, M.T., Rôle et place de Byzance dans le commerce mamlouk (XIIIo–XVo [sic] siècles), in Mélanges offerts à Mohamed Talbi à l’occasion de son 70e anniversaire, Manouba 1993, 183–96. Mansouri, M.T., Tijārat al-ʿabīd wa-l-ʿalāqāt bayna Miṣr al-Mamālīk wa-l-Imbrāṭūriyya al-bīzanṭiyya, in IBLA: Revue de l’Institut des Belles-Lettres Arabes 55/170 (1992), 283– 95. Marinescu, C., La Politique orientale d’Alfonse V d’Aragon, roi de Naples (1416–1458), Barcelona 1994. Martínez Montávez, P., al-ʿAlāqāt al-diblūmāsiyya bayna Miṣr wa-Qishtāla khilāl alqarn al-thālith ʿashar al-mīlādī, in al-Nadwa al-duwaliyya li-tārīkh al-Qāhira/ Colloque international sur l’histoire du Caire (Cairo, 27 March–5 April 1969), Cairo 1970, 267–86. Mattingly, G., Renaissance diplomacy, New York 2008 (1st impr., 1955). Meloy, J.L., Imperial power and maritime trade: Mecca and Cairo in the later middles ages, Chicago 2010. Melville, C., “The year of the elephant”: Mamluk-Mongol rivalry in the Hejaz in the reign of Abū Saʿīd (1317–1335), in SIr 21/2 (1992), 197–214. Melvin-Koushki, M., The delicate art of aggression: Uzun Hasan’s Fathnama to Qaytbay of 1469, in Iranian Studies 44/2 (2011), 193–214. Michot, J.R./Y., Ibn Taymiyya: Against extremisms, Beirut 2012. Michot, J.R./Y., Un important témoin de l’histoire et de la société mamlūkes à l’époque des Īlḫāns et de la fin des Croisades: Ibn Taymiyya (ob. 728/1328), in U. Vermeulen and D. De Smet (eds.), Egypt and Syria in the Fatimid, Ayyubid and Mamluk eras (Proceedings of the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd International Colloquium, Katholieke Universiteit Leuven, May, 1992, 1993, and 1994), Leuven 335–54. Mikami, T., Chinese ceramics from medieval sites in Egypt, in P.T. Mikasa, Cultural and economic relations between East and West: Sea routes, Wiesbaden 1988, 8–44. Miquel, A., La Géographie humaine du monde musulman jusqu’au milieu du 11e siècle, vol. 1, Paris and The Hague 1967. Mohd, H.M.K., Meaning and method of the interpretation of sunnah in the field of siyar: A reappraisal, in M.-L. Frick and A.Th. Müller (eds.), Islam and international law: Engaging self-centrism from a plurality of perspectives, Leiden and Boston 2013, 65–6. Mortel, R.T., al-Aḥwāl al-siyāsiyya wa-l-iqtiṣādiyya bi-Makka fī-l-ʿaṣr al-mamlūkī, Riyadh 1985. Mortel, R.T., Aspects of Mamlūk relations with Jedda during the fifteenth century: The case of Timrāz al-Muʾayyadī, in JIS 6/1 (1995), 1–13. Moukarzel, P., Les Expéditions militaires contre Chypre (1424–1426) d’après Ṣāliḥ b. Yaḥyā: quelques remarques sur la marine mamelouke, in al-Masāq 19/2 (2007), 177– 98.

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

177

Muhanna, E.I., The sultan’s new clothes: Ottoman–Mamluk gift exchange in the fifteenth century, in Muqarnas 27 (2010), 189–207. Müller, C. and J. Pahlitzsch, Sultan Baybars I and the Georgians—in the light of new documents related to the monastery of the holy cross in Jerusalem, in Arabica 51/3 (2004), 258–90. Muʾnis, Ḥ., Pedro Martínez Anglaria, ambassadeur des deux rois catholiques auprès du Sultan Qānṣūh al-Ghūrī, dernier sultan mamlūk (Decembre 1501–Février 1502) (Résumé), in Colloque international sur l’histoire du Caire/al-Nadwa al-duwaliyya litārīkh al-Qāhira (Cairo, 27 March–5 April 1969), Cairo 327–9. al-Nashshār, M.M.A., ʿAlāqat Mamlakatay Qashtāla wa-Arājūn bi-salṭanat al-Mamālīk (1260–1341 M / 658–741 H), al-Haram [Giza] 1997. Nicolle, D., The manufacture and importation of military equipment in the Islamic eastern Mediterranean (10th–14th centuries), in U. Vermeulen and J. Van Steenbergen (eds.), Egypt and Syria in the Fatimid, Ayyubid and Mamluk eras III (Proceedings of the 6th, 7th, and 8th International Colloquium Katholieke Universiteit Leuven, May 1997, 1998, and 1999), Leuven 2001, 139–62. Ohta, K., The Meccan sharifate and its diplomatic relations in the Bahri Mamluk period, in Nihon Chūto Gakkai Nenpō / Annals of Japan Association for Middle East Studies 17/1 (2002), 1–20. Osiander, A., Sovereignty, international relations and the Westphalian myth, in International Organization 55/2 (2001), 251–87. Ouerfelli, M., Les Relations entre le royaume de Chypre et le sultanat mamelouk au XVe siècle, in Le Moyen Âge: revue d’histoire et de philologie CX (2004), 327–44. Pahlitzsch, J., Documents on intercultural communication in Mamlūk Jerusalem: The Georgians under Sultan al-Nāṣir Ḥasan in 759 (1358), in A. Beihammer, M. Parani, and C. Schabel (eds.), Diplomatics in the eastern Mediterranean 1000–1500: Aspects of cross-cultural communication, Leiden 2008, 373–94. Pahlitzsch, J., Georgians and Greeks in Jerusalem (1099–1310), in K. Ciggaar and H. Teule (eds.), East and West in the crusader states: Context—contacts—confrontations III (Acta of the Congress Held at Hernen Castle in September 2000), Leuven and Dudley, MA 2003, 35–51. Pahlitzsch, J., Mediators between east and west: Christians under Mamluk rule, in MSR 9/2 (2005), 31–47. Pahlitzsch, J., Networks of Greek Orthodox monks and clerics between Byzantium and Mamluk Syria and Egypt, in S. Conermann (ed.), Everything is on the move: The Mamluk empire as a node in (trans-)regional networks, Goettingen 2014, 127– 44. Pedani, M.P., Ambassador’s travels from the east to Venice, in Annali di Ca’ Foscari 48/3 (2009), 183–97. Péquignot, S., Les Diplomaties occidentales, XIIIe–XVe siècle, in Les Relations diploma-

178

dekkiche

tiques au Moyen-Âge. Formes et enjeux. Actes du XLIe Congrès de la SHMESP (Lyon, 3–6 juin 2010), Paris 2011, 47–66. Perruchon, J., Récit d’une ambassade au roi d’Éthiopie Sayfa Ar’ad par le Patriarche d’Égypte, in Revue sémitique d’épigraphie et d’histoire ancienne 1 (1893), 177–82. Petry, C.F., Holy war, unholy peace? Relations between the Mamluk sultanate and European states prior to the Ottoman conquest, in H. Dajani-Shakeel and R.A. Messier (eds.), The jihād and its times: Dedicated to Andrew Stefan Ehrenkreutz, Ann Arbor 1991, 95–112. Pfeiffer, J., Aḥmad Tegüder’s second letter to Qalāʾūn (682/1283), in J. Pfeiffer and S.A. Quinn (eds.), History and historiography of post-Mongol Central Asia and the Middle East: Studies in honor of John E. Woods, Wiesbaden 2006, 167–202. Plante, J.G., The Ethiopian embassy to Cairo of 1443: A Trier Manuscript of Gandulph’s report, with an English translation, in Journal of Ethiopian Studies 13/2 (1975), 133– 40. Poliak, A.N., Le Caractère colonial de l’État mamelouk dans ses rapports avec la Horde d’Or, in RÉI 9 (1935), 231–48. Pryor, J.H., Commenda: The operation of the contract in long distance commerce at Marseilles during the thirteenth century, in Journal of European Economic History 13/2 (1984), 397–440. al-Qarmūṭ, ʿA. al-R. al-Ṭanṭāwī, al-ʿAlāqāt bayna al-Jarākisa wa-l-ʿUthmāniyyīn, 784–923 H./1382–1517 M., Cairo 1984. Qāsim, Q.ʿA., ʿAlāqāt Miṣr bi-l-Ḥabasha fī ʿaṣr salāṭīn al-Mamālīk, in Q.ʿA. Qāsim (ed.), Awrāq taʾrīkhiyya, Giza 2011, 307–31. Quatremère, É.M., Mémoire sur les relations des princes mamlouks avec l’Inde, in É.M. Quatremère (ed.) Mémoires géographiques et historiques sur l’Égypte, et sur quelques contrées voisines recueillis et extraits des manuscrits coptes, arabes, etc., de la Bibliothèque Impériale, Paris 1811, 284–95. Rabīʿ, Ḥ.M., Mamlūk campaigns against Rhodes (A.D.1440–1444), in C.E. Bosworth (ed.), The Islamic world from classical to modern times: Essays in honor of Bernard Lewis, Princeton 1989, 281–286. Rabīʿ, Ḥ.M., Political relations between the Safavids of Persia and the Mamluks of Egypt and Syria in the early sixteenth century, in al-Majalla al-Tārīkhiyya al-Miṣriyya 26 (1979), 33–47. Raymond, A., Conflits maritimes, politique méditerranéenne et évolution de l’empire mamelouk égyptien au XVe siècle, in Les Cahiers de Tunisie 48/169–170 (1995), 165– 76. Richard, J., L’État de guerre avec l’Égypte et le royaume de Chypre, in N. Coureas and J. Riley-Smith (eds.), Cyprus and the crusades/Kypros kai oi Staurophories (Papers given at the International Conference “Cyprus and the Crusades” Nicosia, 6–9 September 1994), Nicosia 1995, 83–95.

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

179

Richards, D.S., A late Mamluk document concerning Frankish commercial practice at Tripoli, in BSOAS 62/1 (1999), 21–35. Richards, D.S., Mamluk administrative documents from St. Catherine’s Monastery, Leuven, Paris, and Walpole, MA 2011. Rizzo, A., Le Lys et le Lion: Diplomatie et échanges entre Florence et le sultanat mamelouk (début XVe–début XVIe s.), 3 vols., PhD dissertation, Université de Liège and AixMarseille Université 2017. Roberts, I. (Sir) (ed.), Satow’s diplomatic practice, Oxford 2011 (6th edition). Rogers, J.M., To and Fro: Aspects of Mediterranean trade and consumption in the 15th and 16th centuries, in REMMM 55–56 (1990), 57–74. Roncaglia, M.P., La République de Venise et les lieux saints de Jérusalem: documents inédits du XVe aux XIXe s. tirés des archives privées du Couvent de St. François-de-la-Vigne de Venise, Beirut 1972. Sáez Pomés, M., Los Aragoneses en la conquista saqueo de Alejandria por Pedro I de Chipre, in Estudios de Edad Media de la Corona de Aragon 5 (1952) 361–405. Saʿīd, M., Dawr al-Yaman fī l-tijāra al-sharqiyya al-kubrā min sanat 825 H/1422 M ilā sanat 923 H/1517 M, in A. Temimi (ed.), Mélanges méditerranéens d’amitié et de reconnaissance à André Raymond / Taḥiyyat taqdīr mutawassiṭiyya li-Andrī Rīmūn, Tunis 2004, 159–88. Scanlon, G.T., Egypt and China: Trade and imitation, D.S. Richards (ed.), Islam and the trade of Asia: A colloquium, Oxford and Philadelphia 1970, 81–95. Schmid, M.P., Die diplomatischen Beziehungen zwischen Konstantinopel und Kairo zu Beginn des 14. Jahrhunderts im Rahmen der Auseinandersetzung Byzanz-Islam, PhD dissertation, Ludwig-Maximilians-Universität zu München 1956. Schreiner, P., Byzantinische Orientreisende im 14. Jahrhundert, in W. Röllig (ed.), XXII. Deutscher Orientalistentag: Ausgewählte Vorträge (Tübingen, 21–25 March 1983), Stuttgart 1985, 141–9. Schreiner, P., Byzanz und die Mamluken in der 2. Hälfte des 14. Jahrhunderts, in Der Islam 56 (1979), 296–304. Schweizer, K.W. and M.J. Schumann, The revitalization of diplomatic history: Renewed reflections, in Diplomacy and statecraft 19/2 (2008), 149–86. Seco de Lucena, L., Viaje a Oriente. Embajadores granadinos en El Cairo, in MEAH 4 (1995), 5–30. Sennoune, O., Fondouks, khans et wakalas à Alexandrie à travers les récits de voyageurs, in AI 38/2 (2004), 453–89. Serjeant, R.B., Fifteenth century ‘interlopers’ on the coast of Rasūlid Yemen, in R. Curiel and R. Gyselen (eds.), Itinéraires d’Orient: Hommages à Claude Cahen, Bures-surYvette 1994, 83–92. Silvestre de Sacy, A.I., Texte arabe du traité fait entre le sultan Kélaoun et son fils, d’une part, et les Génois, d’autre part, in Notices et extraits des manuscrits de la Bibliothèque impériale et autres bibliothèques 11 (1827), 41–52.

180

dekkiche

Smith, C., Indecisive reactions to the Portuguese by Mamluk and Ottoman Turks, in New Arabian Studies 6 (2004), 93–123. Sowerby, T.A., Early modern diplomatic history, in History Compass 14/9 (2016), 441–56. Stern, S.M., Petitions from the Mamluk period (Notes on the Mamlūk documents from Sinai), in BSOAS 29/2 (1966), 233–76. Stewart, A.D., The Armenian kingdom and the Mamluks: War and diplomacy during the reigns of Hetʿum II (1289–1307), Leiden 2001. Stewart, A.D., The logic of conquest: Tripoli, 1289; Acre, 1291; why not Sis, 1293?, in alMasāq 14/1 (2002), 7–16. Tadmurī, ʿU.ʿA. al-S., Ghazawāt al-muslimīn ilā Rūdus fī ʿaṣr al-Mamālīk, in al-Quds 9 (1980/1400), 67–9. Tadmurī, ʿU.ʿA. al-S., al-Mamālīk wa-Armīniyya l-ṣughrā, in al-Muʾarrikh al-ʿArabī 60 (2001), 41–55. Talbot, A.-M., Byzantine pilgrimage to the holy land from the eighth to the fifteenth century, in J. Patrich (ed.), The Sabaite heritage in the Orthodox Church from the fifth century to the present, Leuven 2001, 97–110. al-Thakafi, Y.A., The diplomatic relationship between the Ottoman empire and the Mamluk empire in the first quarter of the sixteenth century, PhD dissertation, Michigan State University 1981. al-Tihāmī, ʿĀʾ.ʿA. al-ʿA.M., Baʿḍ aḍwāʾ jadīda ʿalā l-ʿalāqāt al-tijāriyya bayn Miṣr wa-l-Ṣīn fī ʿaṣr dawlat salāṭīn al-Mamālīk, in Majallat al-Muʾarrikh al-ʿArabī (al-Qāhira) 1/9 (2001), 349–68. Troadec, A., La Lettre de Baybars au comte Bohémond VI de Tripoli: une arme dans l’arsenal idéologique des Mamelouks, in D. Aigle and S. Péquignot (eds.), La Correspondance entre souverains, princes et cités-états. Approches croisées entre l’Orient musulman, l’Occident et Byzance (XIIIe–début XVIe siècle), Turnhout 2013. Vaiou, M., Diplomacy in the early Islamic world: A tenth-century treatise on ArabByzantine relations. The book of messengers of kings (Kitāb rusul al-mulūk) of Ibn al-Farrāʾ, London and New York 2015. Valérian, D., Le Fondouk, instrument du contrôle sultanien sur les marchands étrangers dans les ports musulmans (xiie–xve siècles)?, in C. Moatti (ed.), La Mobilité des personnes en Méditerranée de l’antiquité à l’époque moderne: procédures de contrôle et documents d’identification, Rome 2004, 677–98, 741. Valérian, D., Les Marchands latins dans les ports musulmans méditerranéens: une minorité confinée dans des espaces communautaires?, in REMMM 107–110 (2005), 437–58. Vallet, É., Du système mercantile à l’ordre diplomatique: le bassin de la mer Rouge en Égypte mamlûke et Yémen rasûlide, in Les Relations diplomatiques au Moyen Âge: formes et enjeux. XLIe Congrès de la SHMESP (Lyon, 3–6 juin 2010), Paris 2011, 269– 301.

mamluk diplomacy: the present state of research

181

Vallet, É., L’Arabie marchande. État et commerce sous les sultans rasūlides du Yémen (626–858/1229–1454), Paris 2010. Vallet, É., Marchands vénitiens en Syrie à la fin du XVe siècle: pour l’honneur et le profit. Paris 1999. Vallet, É., Mūsā b. al-Ḥasan al-Mawṣilī et la correspondance des sultans rasūlides du Yémen. Genèse d’un ordre épistolaire, in D. Aigle, and S. Péquignot (eds.), La Correspondance entre souverains, princes et cités-Etats. Approches croisées entre l’Orient musulman, l’Occident latin et Byzance (XIIIe–début XVIe siècle), Turnhout 2013, 127– 45. Van Steenbergen, J., The Alexandrian crusade (1365) and the Mamlūk sources: Reassessment of the Kitāb al-Ilmām of an-Nuwayrī al-Iskandarānī (d. A.D.1372), in K. Ciggaar and H. Teule (eds.), East and west in the crusader states: Context—Contacts— Confrontations III (Acta of the Congress Held at Hernen Castle in September 2000), Leuven and Dudley, MA 2003, 123–37. Venzke, M.L., The case of a Dulgadir-Mamluk Iqṭāʿ: A re-assessment of the Dulgadir principality and its position within the Ottoman-Mamluk rivalry, in JESHO 43/3 (2000), 399–474. Vermeulen, U., Le Traité d’armistice entre le sultan Baybars et les Hospitaliers de Ḥiṣn al-Akrād et al-Marqab (4 Ramadan 665A.H./29 Mai 1267), in OLP 19 (1988), 189–95. Vermeulen, U., Le Traité d’armistice relatif à al-Marqab conclu entre Baybars et les Hospitaliers (1 Ramadan 669/13 avril 1271), in OLP 21 (1991), 185–93. Vermeulen, U., Une lettre du caliphe al-Mustakfī à Dāwud b. Yūsuf b. Rasūl (707A.H.), in U. Vermeulen and D. De Smet (eds.), Egypt and Syria in the Fatimid, Ayyubid and Mamluk eras (Proceedings of the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd International Colloquium, Katholieke Universiteit Leuven, May, 1992, 1993, and 1994), Leuven 1995, 363–71. Veselý, R., Ein Briefwechsel zwischen Ägypten und den Qaramaniden im 14. Jahrhundert, in Asian and African Studies (Bratislava) 9/1 (2000), 36–44. Viladrich, M., Solving the ‘accursed riddle’ of the diplomatic relations between Catalonia and Egypt around 1430, in al-Masāq 14/1 (2002), 25–31. von der Höh, M., Muslim embassies in Renaissance Venice: The framework of an intercultural dialogue, in M. von der Höh, N. Jaspert, and J.H. Oesterle (eds.), Cultural brokers at Mediterranean courts in the middle ages, Paderborn 2013, 163–82. Wansbrough, J., A Mamluk ambassador to Venice in 913/1507, in BSOAS 26 (1963), 503– 30. Wansbrough, J., A Mamlūk commercial treaty concluded with the Republic of Florence, 894/1489, in S.M. Stern (ed.), Documents from Islamic chanceries, Oxford 1965, 39–79. Wansbrough, J., A Mamluk letter of 877/1473, in BSOAS 24 (1961), 200–13. Wansbrough, J., Lingua franca in the Mediterranean, Richmond 1996. Wansbrough, J., The safe-conduct in Muslim chancery practice, in BSOAS 34/1 (1971), 20–35.

182

dekkiche

Wansbrough, J., Venice and Florence in the Mamluk commercial privileges, in BSOAS 28/3 (1965), 483–523. al-Waqqād, M.M., al-Hadāyā wa-l-tuḥaf zaman salāṭīn al-Mamālīk al-Baḥriyya 648–784 H/1250–1382 M., in Hawliyyāt Kulliyyat al-Ādāb, Jāmiʿat ʿAyn Shams 28/2 (2000), 185– 240. Watkins, J. Towards a new diplomatic history of medieval and early modern Europe, in Journal of Medieval and Early Modern Studies 38/1 (2008), 1–14. Wiet, G., Deux princes ottomans à la cour d’Égypte, in BIÉ 20 (1938), 137–50. Wiet, G., Les Relations égypto-abyssines sous les sultans mamlouks, in Bulletin de la Société d’archéologie copte 4 (1938), 115–40. Wiet, G., Réfugiés politiques ottomans en Égypte, in Arabica 1 (1954), 257–71. Wiet, G., Un réfugié mamlouk à la cour mongole de Perse, in Mélanges d’orientalisme offerts à Henri Massé à l’occasion de son 75ème anniversaire, Tehran 1963, 388–404. Wijntjes, Th.M., The sultan, the duke and the leopard: The embassy of Giangaleazzo Visconti of Milan to Sultan Barquq, in U. Vermeulen, K. D’hulster, and J. Van Steenbergen (eds.), Egypt and Syria in the Fatimid, Ayyubid, and Mamluk eras VII, Leuven 2013, 549–61. Wing, P., The Jalayirids: Dynastic state formation in the Mongol Middle East, Edinburgh 2016. Woods, J.E., The Aq Qoyunlu: Clan, confederation, empire, Salt Lake City 1999. Yüksel Muslu, C., The Ottomans and the Mamluks: Imperial diplomacy and warfare in the Islamic world, London and New York 2014. Zaydān, Y.A.ʿA., Dawr al-hunūd fī-l-ḥayāt al-thaqāfiyya bi-l-Ḥaramayn al-sharīfayn zaman salāṭīn al-Mamālīk, in Majallat al-Muʾarrikh al-ʿArabī (al-Qāhira) 12/1 (2004), 243–66. Zayyāt, Ḥ., Athar unuf: nuskhat qiṣṣa waradat ilā l-abwāb al-sharīfa al-sulṭāniyya almalakiyya Īnāl min al-muslimīn al-qāṭinīn Lishbūna, in al-Mashriq 35 (1937), 13–22. Ziyādah, M.M., The Mamluk conquest of Cyprus in the fifteenth century, in Majallat Kulliyyat al-Ādāb, Jāmiʿat al-Qāhira 1/2 (1933), 90–113; 1/1 (1934), 37–57. Ziyādah, M.M. and J.L. La Monte, Bedr ed Din al-ʿAini’s account of the conquest of Cyprus 1424–1426, in Annuaire de l’Institut de philologie et d’histoire orientales et slaves 7 (1939–44), 241–64.

part 1 Diplomatic Conventions

∵

chapter 3

Diplomatics, or Another Way to See the World Malika Dekkiche

First we must consider the identity of the sender and of the person to whom the letter is sent; we must consider whether he is noble or common in rank, a friend or an enemy, then what kind of person he is and of what background. The next consideration is the thing dealt with: is it a just or unjust matter, and is it serious or minor? Next the writer should ask himself what attitude he wishes to project: proud or humble, harsh or forgiving, threatening, stern, or that of a trusted friend.1

∵ In his article on the medieval art of letter-writing, Les Perelman quotes this passage from Alberic of Monte Cassino’s Flores Rhetorici (d. 1088). This extract is important in many respects as it introduces perfectly the main principles underlying not only the rules for letter-writing but also the patterns of diplomatic exchanges. While the quotation refers to the Western Christian world, these principles are, in fact, applicable to the practice of the Mamluk chancery of Cairo. If the identity of the sender is quite easy to determine in our case—namely, the Mamluk sultan—the same cannot be said of the addressees. In fact, the world with which the Mamluk sultans were in contact was wide and complex. For this reason, secretaries working in the Mamluk chancery were concerned with understanding this world and organizing it, and they dedicated a large part of their training to this very task. This priority is well illustrated by the extant administrative literature (chancery manuals) dating from the Mamluk period. While a large part of these works is strictly devoted to the art of document writing, they all handle, in more or less detail, an important branch of knowledge: human geography, or al-masālik wa-l-mamālik (routes and realms). In this genre, secretaries meticulously describe the world they knew accord-

1 Perelman, Medieval art 104.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2019 | doi:10.1163/9789004384637_004

186

dekkiche

ing to different perspectives: physical, historical, economical, political. Consequently, one can draw an accurate picture of the world around Cairo and its interactions with this center. As relevant as it is, however, the masālik wa-l-mamālik did not constitute an end in itself. Rather, it served as a tool to determine the origin and identity of the addressee. In fact, once the secretary had a good knowledge of the geopolitical world, and thus of the potential addressees, he was able to arrange them in another type of map, not based on geographical repartition this time but according to hierarchy. Determined by diplomatics, this second repartition is the key to understanding the diplomatic exchanges. In this article, I show how this hierarchical map of Mamluk correspondents was drawn according to the rules of diplomatics. Looking at the administrative literature available, I first concentrate on the parts of these works devoted to the description of the world, the masālik wal-mamālik. After briefly explaining the origin of the genre and its purpose, I show how it established an original way to divide and organize the world. This first analysis presents an accurate picture of the world—especially in the case of the Muslim world—known and recognized by the Mamluks. In the second part of the article, I then study how this theoretical knowledge was used by the chancery in practice. As indicated by the introductory quotation, the knowledge of the status of the addressees was an essential condition for the writing of letters but also for setting the patterns of diplomatic exchanges. I present how and on what basis these patterns were established by the Mamluk chancery and how these patterns help us draw a map of the hierarchical distribution of the correspondents in the Muslim world.

1

Al-Masālik wa-l-mamālik

Born in the fourth-/tenth-century Abbasid milieu, this literary genre is closely associated with not only the development, but also the very expression of Arabic human geography. Human geography, that is, the study of human activity in and as it interacts with this environment, finds its most accomplished form in the genre of al-masālik. But, in fact, its development began at an even earlier period through other types of works: the technical literature illustrated by the ṣurāt al-arḍ (e.g., al-Balkhī, Ṣuwar al-aqālīm) and administrative geography (e.g., Qudāma b. Jaʿfar, Kitāb al-Kharāj wa-ṣināʿat al-kitāba). This literature, which witnessed the emergence of the Abbasid administration in the third/ninth century, was inaugurated by secretaries (kātib, pl. kuttāb) working in the administrative offices (dīwān, pl. dawāwīn). In an effort to orga-

diplomatics, or another way to see the world

187

nize the new empire, these functionaries created efficient means to respond to the caliphate’s requirements.2 This literature (technical and administrative) was first intended for circulation within the isolated group of the kuttāb.3 Indeed, it was established by secretaries as a tool to help other functionaries organize the empire for tax purposes, to establish routes, and to maintain frontiers. It was thus a logical part of the secretaries’ training. Human geography therefore developed, unquestionably, as a function of the imperial ideal reflected by the caliphate4 and spread efficiently through the works of al-masālik. This literature is associated to a particular discourse of place,5 that shows the role of geographical imagination in political debates.6 The pioneers of the genre (i.e., al-Yaʿqūbī, al-Iṣṭakhrī, al-Muqaddasī) were mostly concerned with describing Islam and its civilization, in the strict framework of the mamlakat al-Islām.7 While this view of the world was somehow quite far from the geopolitical reality (e.g., the Abbasid caliphate was in a state of decline in the face of local dynasties and rival caliphates),8 it nevertheless succeeded in keeping the illusion of a united Islam and a single authority (Baghdad). The illusion of an Islamic empire provided the necessary framework for the genre to develop. In this sense, the masālik wa-l-mamālik constitute a turning point in the history of the genre of human geography. In fact, by using new methods of investigation (travels, observation) and adapting old terminology (the Greek climates: iqlīm),9 authors created an original way to describe the world, its people, their cultures, and their environments (both in space and time). Concretely, the human geography presented by the masālik wa-l-mamālik focused on the empire itself (mamlakat al-Islām)—established as a central pole—and aimed to define and explain every single part of it (physical, historical, political, economical, and human).10 While at an early stage the masālik nearly ignored the countries and realms outside the mamlaka, or only dedi-

2 3 4 5

6 7 8 9 10

Miquel, La Géographie humaine i, 22. Ibid. i, 85. Ibid. i, 335. Antrim, Routes and Realms 1: “the discourse of place is a conceptual framework (…) [used] to bring together a wide variety of formal texts committed to the representation of territory in and of itself (…).” Ibid., 6. Miquel, La Géographie humaine i, 276. Ibid. i, 269. Ibid. i, 279. Antrim, Routes and Realms 100.

188

dekkiche

cated short notices to them, the decline of the empire expanded the scope of the genre to include most of the world—presented as increasingly divided, if yet connected.11 It is noteworthy that this vision does not carry the traditional view of the world supported by Islamic law, i.e., the distinction between the dār al-Islām (abode of Islam) and the dār al-ḥarb (abode of war).12 As mentioned above, human geography first developed in the secretarial milieu. Though it spread to a wider public,13 it remained a main concern for the kuttāb during the Mamluk period.14 The abundant administrative literature we possess for this period is a good indicator. Elias Muhanna recently showed how this trend is linked to the development of Mamluk encyclopedism.15 Bureaucracy during the Mamluk period was indeed increasingly concerned with a better understanding of “the Islamic world writ large rather than a more narrowly defined region or time span.”16 Furthermore, the knowledge gathered in those large collections aimed to present a real picture of that world reflecting its political and social organization.17 The main representative of this genre belongs to what Muhanna has called the “encyclopedic triumvirate”:18 Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī (700–49/1301–49).

11 12

13 14

15 16 17 18

Ibid. 100, 110. This traditional view of the world is based on the universalist principle of Islam, that it should be extended to the entire world, by means of jihād. If somehow the ideal of mamlakat al-Islām follows that of a dār al-Islām—presenting the Muslim world as one and united—it does not share, however, the same universalist view. Miquel, La Géographie humaine i, 91. Although al-Qalqashandī does not make (human) geography an explicit part of the secretaries’ training, he nevertheless devotes an entire—and lengthy—section (maqāla) of his voluminous encyclopedia Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā to the masālik wa-l-mamālik. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā i, 148 announces that there were fifteen prerequisites for scribes. However, he describes eighteen to twenty prerequisites within this section (al-maqāla al-ūlā), ibid. i, 148–480; ii, 6–7. These prerequisites are knowledge of the Arabic language; foreign languages (i.e., Turkish, Persian, Greek, Franks’ language, Berber, Sudanese); grammar (naḥw); conjugation (taṣrīf ); eloquence (maʿānī, bayān, badīʿ); the Qurʾān; the traditions of the Prophet; famous speeches (khuṭab al-bulaghāʾ); the written literature of the Ancients; Arabic poetry; proverbs; genealogies (ansāb) of Arabs and foreigners; glories and merits of the communities; famous battles; ancient beliefs and practices of the Arabs; customs of the Arabs; history and events; libraries; sciences/disciplines and authors; and finally, the rules of government (al-aḥkām al-sulṭāniyya). Muhanna, The World in a Book. Ibid. 89. Ibid. 93. The treatment of the diplomatic conventions (al-muṣṭalaḥ) is particularly relevant in the context of the article. Ibid. 22: al-Nuwayrī, Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī and al-Qalqashandī.

diplomatics, or another way to see the world

189

Besides his well-known chancery manual al-Taʿrīf bi-l-muṣṭalaḥ al-sharīf,19 which establishes the basis for the art of document writing in the Mamluk period, he is also the author of an encyclopedia devoted to human geography, Masālik al-abṣār fī mamālik al-amṣār.20 This voluminous work was the most important reference used by later secretaries working in the Mamluk chancery. Either briefly (by Ibn Nāẓir al-Jaysh, 726–86/1326–84,21 and al-Saḥmāwī, d. 868/ 1463)22 or extensively quoted (by al-Qalqashandī, 756–821/1355–1418),23 the Masālik al-abṣār had an indisputable and major impact on the Mamluks’ understanding and vision of the world around them.24 In this world, Cairo had replaced Baghdad as the central pole of the empire or mamlaka. However, unlike Baghdad, this new center was not the pole of the mamlakat al-Islām as a whole but of a series of mamālik spread around it. This organization was well illustrated in the works of the aforementioned secretaries. 1.1 Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī Following the pioneers of the genre, Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī dedicates an important part of his Masālik al-abṣār to the study of the earth, its components (physical), and its peoples (al-arḍ wa-mā fīhā wa-man fīhā).25 This study is, of course, not concentrated on the earth in general but on the world contemporary to Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, namely, the Mamluk world (Egypt, Syria, and the Hijaz) considered to be the pillar of Islam and the tent of the religion (ʿamūd al-Islām wa-fuṣṭāṭ al-dīn).26 Throughout his Masālik, Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī focuses on Islam and its civilization,27 but he does not neglect to place it in its wider environment. After describing the earth and its many components in the first section of his book (al-bāb al-awwal), the second section (al-bāb al-thānī) is dedicated to a description of the world according to the traditional division into seven climates (iqlīm, pl. aqālīm) inherited from the Ancients (viz., the Greeks).28 The 19 20 21 22 23 24

25 26 27 28

Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, al-Taʿrīf. Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, Masālik al-abṣār. Ibn Nāẓir al-Jaysh, Tathqīf al-taʿrīf. Al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā. Al-Qalqashandī only refers clearly to the Masālik al-abṣār, while Ibn Nāẓir al-Jaysh and alSaḥmāwī refer instead to al-Taʿrīf. However, as most of the material used by Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī for his al-Taʿrīf was taken from his Masālik al-abṣār, it seems legitimate to speak of this latter source as a reference for these authors. Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, Masālik al-abṣār i, 28. Ibid. i, 28; iii, 28. Ibid. iii, 30. Ibid. i, 495–595; ii, 17–148.

190

dekkiche

iqlīm, or zone, is the incline of the earth from the equator toward the pole.29 The seven zones are spread from east to west, and each of them is divided into ten separate sections, from west to east.30 While this division includes the entire world known at the time, it was not always easy to navigate, and it is more useful to accept it for what it is: an exhaustive and general introduction to the topic. On the contrary, the narrative becomes clearer when looking at Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī’s section (al-nawʿ al-thānī) on the realms (mamālik). Without going into the details, I list the different mamālik of the Islamic world. Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī recognizes a total of fourteen to fifteen mamālik spread from east to west (cf. table 3.1): India and Sind (al-Hind wa-l-Sind),31 the Mongol Empire (Bayt Jingīzkhān),32 Gilan (al-Jīl),33 the realm of the Kurds (al-Jibāl),34 the realm of the Turks of Anatolia (al-Atrāk bi-l-Rūm),35 Egypt, Syria, Hijaz,36 Yemen,37 Ethiopia (al-Muslimūn fī l-Ḥabasha),38 Sudan (al-Muslimūn fī l-Sūdān),39 Mali,40 the realms of the Berbers ( Jibāl al-Barbar),41 Tunisia (Ifrīqiya),42 Morocco (Barr al-ʿUdwa),43 al-Andalus.44

29 30 31 32 33 34 35

36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44

Miquel, La Géographie humaine i, 12, note 1. On the climate, also see Ibn Khaldūn, The muqaddimah i, 94–166. Ibn Khaldūn, The muqaddimah i, 97, according to Ptolemy’s Geography. Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, Masālik al-abṣār iii, 37–91. Ibid. iii, 93–230. With China (ibid., iii, 127–37), Turan (including Transoxiana, Khwarizm, and Qipchaq; ibid. iii, 139–94), and Iran (Persia and Khurasan; ibid. iii, 195–230). Ibid. iii, 231–53. With Būmin (ibid. iii, 239–41), Tūlīm (ibid. iii, 243–5), Kaskar (ibid. iii, 247– 9), and Rashaft (ibid. iii, 251–3). Ibid. iii, 255–85. With the Kurds (ibid. iii, 257–72), al-Lurr (ibid. iii, 273–7), al-Shūl (ibid. iii, 279–81), and Shankāra (ibid. iii, 283–5). Ibid. iii, 287–412. With Germiyān (ibid. iii, 327–32), Tunghuzlu (ibid. iii, 333–6), Tāwāza (ibid. iii, 337–9), ʿAydalī (ibid. iii, 341–3), Qaṣṭamuniyya (ibid. iii, 345–8), Qāwiyā (ibid. iii, 349–51), Bursā (ibid. iii, 353–5), Akīra (ibid. iii, 357–9), Marmarā (ibid. iii, 361–3), Nīf (ibid. iii, 365–7), Maghnīsiyā (ibid. iii, 369–71), Birgi (ibid. iii, 373–5), Fawkah (ibid. iii, 377– 9), Anṭāliyā (ibid. iii, 381–3), Qarāṣār (ibid. iii, 385–7), Ermenek (ibid. iii, 389–412). Ibid. iii, 413–559. Where Egypt and Syria are described widely, unlike the Hijaz. Ibid. iv, 29–57. Ibid. iv, 59–91. With Awfāt (ibid. iv, 65–71), Dawāro (ibid. iv, 73), ʿArābabni (ibid. iv, 75), Hadya (ibid. iv, 77–8), Sharḥā (ibid. iv, 79), Bāli (ibid. iv, 81) and Darā (ibid. iv, 83–91). Ibid. iv, 93–103. With Kanem (ibid. iv, 95–7) and Nubia (ibid. iv, 99–103). Ibid. iv, 105–29. Ibid. iv, 131–4. Ibid. iv, 135–66. Ibid. iv, 167–224. Ibid. iv, 225–38.

diplomatics, or another way to see the world

191

Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī also notes a fifteenth mamlaka that includes the Bedouins.45 From this list, one first notices that Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī’s description of the Islamic world contrasts significantly with the ideal of the mamlakat al-Islām of the Abbasid period. In fact, after the Mongols’ conquest and destruction of the Abbasid caliphate of Baghdad, the Muslim world changed greatly. The ideal of the “mamlakat al-Islām” collapsed and gave rise to a new concept: that of a recognized mamālik al-Islām. If Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī’s description of these mamālik was extensive and detailed, his perspective remained mostly encyclopedic. When looking at the organization of the book, it seems that every mamlaka was considered with the same level of importance, which makes it difficult to recognize a central pole around which the Islamic world was organized. 1.2 Al-Qalqashandī With al-Qalqashandī, it is much easier to understand the repartition and organization of the Muslim world around the Mamluk Empire. Although he quotes his predecessor Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī abundantly, al-Qalqashandī truly processes and organizes the data in order to present a intelligible picture of his world. And ‘the world’ now means the entire world—at that time—since alQalqashandī considers the non-Muslim world as well. When looking at the organization of his section on al-masālik wa-l-mamālik, it is easy to note the importance he devoted to the center of this world: the Mamluk Empire. After introducing the reader to the earth, its components,46 and its most important people—the caliphs47—al-Qalqashandī begins immediately with his presentation of the Mamluk Empire, in order of importance: Egypt,48 Syria,49 and the Hijaz.50 There he meticulously details each of its components (physical, historical, governmental, and economic, etc.), before moving on to the description of the world around this center. This world is divided into four, following the cardinal points: east, west, south, and north (cf. table 3.2).

45 46 47 48 49 50

Ibid. iv, 241–397. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā iii, 223–49. Ibid. iii, 250–77. Ibid. iii, 278–528; iv, 5–72. Ibid. iv, 72–243. Ibid. iv, 243–304.

192

dekkiche

The eastern part of the world is divided in two: 1) the lands belonging to the Mongols (Bayt Jingīz Khān)51 with Iran,52 and Turan;53 2) the lands of the Jazīrat al-ʿArab54 with Yemen,55 Bahrain,56 Yamāma.57 India is included in this last group.58 The western part of the world includes the realms of Tunis,59 Tlemcem,60 Morocco (Barr al-ʿUdwa, al-Gharb al-Aqṣā),61 the lands of the Berber ( Jibāl al-Barbar),62 and Andalus ( Jazīrat al-Andalus).63 The southern part of the world is divided between the country of the Buja,64 Nubia,65 Borno,66 Kanem,67 Mali,68 and Sudan69 with Ethiopia (both Christian70 and Muslim71). Finally, the northern part is divided into two groups: 1) the Muslim part, that is, the lands of the Turks and Turkmens (Bilād al-Rūm);72 and 2) the Christian part,73 with the Baḥr al-Rūm,74 Byzantine Empire (Constantinople),75 and the lands of the Franks [in Europe].76 51 52

53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76

Ibid. iv, 305–12. Ibid. iv, 313–428. Iran is now divided between south and north. The south includes al-Jazīra al-Furātiyya, al-ʿIrāq, Khuzistan and Ahwāz, Fārs, Kirman, and Sistan (ibid. iv, 314–52). The north includes Armenia, Azerbaijan, Arran, Persia (Bilād al-Jibāl), Gilan or Kīlān (al-Jīl), Tabaristan, Mazandaran, Qūmas (?), Khurasan, Zabulistan, al-Ghūr (ibid. iv, 353–98). Ibid. iv, 429–87. Tūrān now includes Transoxiana, Turkestan, Bactria, Badkhshan, Khwarizm and Qipchaq, and China and Khitay (ibid. iv, 431–87). Ibid. v, 5–98. Ibid. v, 6–54. Ibid. v, 54–8. Ibid. v, 58–61. Ibid. v, 61–98. Ibid. v, 99–149. Ibid. v, 149–51. Ibid. v, 152–210. Ibid. v, 210–1. Ibid. v, 211–72. Ibid. v, 273–4. Ibid. v, 275–8. Ibid. v, 279. Ibid. v, 280–1. Ibid. v, 282–301. Ibid. v, 302–37. Ibid. v, 303–23. Ibid. v, 324–37. Ibid. v, 338–69. Ibid. v, 369–422. Ibid., v, 369–76. Ibid. v, 376–403. Ibid. v, 403–22. This includes a description of those realms, before and after Islam. Among the major realms were mamlakat al-Almān, Venice, Genoa, Rome, and Lombardy.

diplomatics, or another way to see the world

193

While al-Qalqashandī borrowed most of his descriptions of the realms and countries from Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, his division of the world differs quite substantially. Several of the latter’s realms are now gathered into others (i.e., Gilan and the lands of the Kurds are part of Iran; Yemen is part of the wider group of Jazīrat al-ʿArab, with Bahrain, and Yamāma; India is also part of that group). The organization of the book also clearly illustrates the repartition of these realms (east, west, south, north) around the Mamluks, but not yet in complete accordance with their geopolitical importance. To understand this importance, we need to look at one last author: al-Saḥmāwī. 1.3 Al-Saḥmāwī In the introduction to his chapter on official correspondence with foreign rulers, al-Saḥmāwī writes of the world, “iʿlam anna mamlakat al-diyār almiṣriyya ka-l-quṭb fī waṣat al-mamālik wa-l-bilād, wa-hiya dāʾira ʿalayhi min jihātihā l-arbaʿ: al-sharq wa-l-gharb wa-l-shimāl wa-l-janūb …”77 Though this statement is quite similar to al-Qalqashandī’s division of the world, the way al-Saḥmāwī deals with it is different. This difference is well illustrated in the organization of his book. First, his attention to the center of the world as the Mamluk Empire (Egypt, Syria, Hijaz) is sustained: it is the sole mamlaka expressly included in the part of his book devoted to the mamālik and the aqālīm (al-qism al-thālith). The description of the rest of the world only comes eight sections later, al-qism al-ḥādiya ʿashar—al-bāb al-thāmin, dedicated to the official correspondence with foreign rulers. Though incorporating it in this section, al-Saḥmāwī actually links theory to practice and presents us with a division of the world close to the Mamluk reality. In this section, I should first note that al-Saḥmāwī divides the world into two main groups: the Muslim and the non-Muslim. Such a distinction reflects an image somewhat closer to the common understanding dictated by Islamic law, which divides the world between the dār al-Islām (Abode of Islam) and the dār al-ḥarb (Abode of war). The most important part of this section naturally focuses on the mamālik al-Islām, while the non-Muslim world, referred to as mamālik al-kuffār, is pushed into the background. As mentioned, these realms are distributed according to the four cardinal points. However, unlike al-Qalqashandī, al-Saḥmāwī distinguishes himself by organizing these points in order of importance: east > north > south > west (cf. table 3.3).

77

Al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim ii, 736.

194

dekkiche

The eastern part of the Muslim world is divided between three mamālik: Iran,78 Turan,79 and finally India.80 The northern part of this world is spread out in Anatolia (Bilād alRūm).81 The southern part includes the Jazīrat al-ʿArab,82 with Yemen and Bahrain;83 Sudan with Nubia,84 Borno,85 Kānim86 and Mali;87 and Ethiopia with the seven Muslim kings.88 Finally, the western part of the Muslim world is divided between four groups: Ifrīqiya,89 Tlemcem,90 Morocco,91 and al-Andalus.92 The division of the non-Muslim world then follows according to a similar repartition: east > west > north > south. In fact, non-Muslim (al-kuffār) refers to the Christian realms.93 We find the following, arranged in order: in the east, Georgia,94 Armenia95 and Derbent (Bāb al-Abwāb);96 in the west, Castile, Aragon, France;97 in the north, Constantinople, Genoa, Venice, Crimea, the realms of the Bulgar and Serbs, the Rūs, Cyprus;98 and finally, in the south, the Christians in Ethiopia and Sudan.99 78

79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99

Ibid. ii, 736–50. Iran includes al-Jazīrat al-Furātiyya (ibid. ii, 751–9), Persia (ibid. ii, 760), Fārs (ibid. ii, 760); Kirman (ibid. ii, 761), Armenia (ibid. ii, 761–3), East Anatolia (ibid. ii, 763), Gilan (ibid. ii, 764), Khurasan (ibid. ii, 764), Tabaristan (ibid. ii, 765), and the country of the Kurds (Bilād al-Jibāl; ibid. ii, 766–8). Ibid. ii, 768–9. Turan includes Khwarizm and Qipchaq (ibid. ii, 770–3), Transoxiana (ibid. ii, 774–6), and China (ibid. ii, 776). Ibid. ii, 776–82. Ibid. ii, 783–7. Anatolia is divided among twenty groups of Turks and Turkmens. Ibid. ii, 788–92. Ibid. ii, 792–3. Ibid. ii, 793. Ibid. ii, 794–5. Ibid. ii, 795–6. Ibid. ii, 796–7. Ibid. ii, 797–8. With Awfāt, Dawāro, ʿArābabni, Hadya, Sharḥā, Bāli, and Darā. Ibid. ii, 799–803. Ibid. ii, 804–5. Ibid. ii, 805–8. Ibid. ii, 808–10. Ibid. ii, 811–2. Ibid. ii, 812–3. Ibid. ii, 814. Ibid. ii, 815. Ibid. ii, 815–8. Ibid. ii, 818–26. Ibid. ii, 827–9.

diplomatics, or another way to see the world table 3.1

The world according to Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī

Division

Mamālik from east to west

I

India and Sind China

II

Mongols’ empire

Turan Iran

III

Gilan

IV

Realm of the Kurds

V

Realm of the Turks of Anatolia

VI

Egypt–Syria–Hijaz

VII

Yemen

VIII

Ethiopia

IX

Sudan

X

Mali

XI

Realms of the Berbers

XII

Tunisia (Ifrīqiya)

XIII

Morocco

XIV

al-Andalus

(XV)

Bedouins

195

196

dekkiche

table 3.2

The world according to al-Qalqashandī

Division

Mamālik South: al-Jazīra al-Furātiyya, Iraq, Fars, Kirman, Sistan, etc. Iran Mongols

I

East Turan

Jazīrat al-ʿArab II

West

III

South

North: Armenia, Azerbaijan, Arran, Persia, Gilan, Kīlān, Tabaristan, Khurasan, etc. Transoxiana, Turkestan, Bactria, Khwarizm and Qipchaq, China and Khitay Yemen, Bahrain, Yamāma, India

Tunisia, Tlemcem, Morocco, Berber, al-Andalus Buja, Nubia, Borno, Kanem, Mali Sudan, including Ethiopia (Muslim/non-Muslim)

IV

Muslim

Realms of the Turks and Turkmens of Anatolia

non-Muslim

Constantinople, mamlakat al-Almān, Venice, Genoa, Rome, etc.

North

diplomatics, or another way to see the world table 3.3

197

The world according to al-Saḥmāwī

Division

Mamālik Iran (al-Jazīra al-Furātiyya, Persia, Fars, Kirman, Armenia, East Anatolia, Gilan, Khurasan, Tabaristan, Kurds) I

East

Turan (Khwarizm and Qipchaq, Transoxiana, China) India

II

North

Muslim

Realms of the Turks and Turkmens of Anatolia Jazīrat al-ʿArab (Yemen, Bahrain)

III

South

Sudan (Nubia, Borno, Kanem, Mali) Ethiopia

IV

West

Tunis Tlemcem Morocco al-Andalus

I

East

Georgia, Armenia, Derbent

II

West

Spain (Castile and Aragon), France

Non-Muslim III North IV

South

Constantinople, Genoa, Venice Ethiopia and Sudan

198

dekkiche

The analysis of the three aforementioned authors yields an accurate map of the world known by the Mamluk sultanate. While these authors generally recognize the same realms and countries, they present and organize the data in different ways. Following an encyclopedic perspective, Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī is more concerned with listing and describing the world than in organizing it. Although his division of the Muslim world into fourteen realms (mamālik al-Islām) is highly relevant, it is somehow difficult to establish any hierarchy between them or evaluate their relation to Cairo. Al-Qalqashandī’s work is, in this respect, more eloquent. He clearly establishes Cairo as the center of the world and presents the realms and countries around this center according to the four cardinal points (east, west, south, and north). Finally, al-Saḥmāwī is the real master in terms of processing the data. Not only does he focus particular attention on the center of world, the Mamluk Empire, but he also presents a map of the world quite close to Mamluk reality. He first divides the world into two main groups (Muslim and non-Muslim), and among these two groups he then proceeds to list the realms and countries in order of importance. Moreover, al-Saḥmāwī includes his description of the world in his section on correspondence with foreign rulers, thus he binds theory to practice. As stated above, the masālik wa-l-mamālik in the administrative literature was not an end in itself but a theoretical tool used to characterize the addressee’s identity. Once the secretary in charge of writing the official correspondences knew about his interlocutor, he was able to determine his status with certainty. According to the introductory quotation of this article, recognition of the addressee’s status or rank was a sine qua non condition of letter-writing and diplomatic exchange in general. In fact, the rules and patterns of exchange varied greatly depending on the status of the addressee. Within the chancery, secretaries established relevant means that allowed them to express this status. This appears in the rules dictated by diplomatics. After analysis of these rules and their expression, I show the map of the hierarchical distribution of the world according to the Mamluks and determine its relevance within the framework of the diplomatic exchanges.

2

Diplomatics

Diplomatics was originally the science of diplomas, but it now refers to the study of the tradition, the form, and the elaboration of original documents.100

100

Cárcel Ortí, Vocabulaire 21.

diplomatics, or another way to see the world

199

It goes without saying that a complete study of Mamluk diplomatics far exceeds the scope of this article. Instead, I focus on one particular part of the discipline that is relevant for this study: the form or format of the document. By form, one needs to understand the external and internal characters of the document, in this case the official correspondence.101 This choice is mostly dictated by the importance secretaries placed on the form of the letters. In fact, it was through the form of the documents that the status of addressees was established and illustrated. The importance of the format was well emphasized by John Wansbrough in his Lingua franca in the Mediterranean.102 According to him, chancery practice functions as a meta-language, and within this framework, format constitutes an interlingual communication. By focusing on the concept of the “non-syntactic” use of the language, Wansbrough establishes the format as the criteria par excellence that facilitates contacts between foreign parties beyond the linguistic and cultural barriers. Originally, format developed in an environment of mutual expectation for increased productivity and finally it emerged as an internationally understood practice that, by itself, achieved the aim of diplomacy. From this perspective, the message itself is of less importance. As noted, format can be evaluated in terms of external and internal character. As their names suggest, the external characters relate to the general appearance of the letter—e.g., the paper and the pen used, the writing, the ink, the layout—while the internal characters refer to the different parts of the text. Influenced by European diplomatics, the Latin terms are generally used to designate the different parts of the letter: invocatio, intitulatio, inscriptio, salutatio, expositio, dispositio, corroboratio, subscriptio, recognitio, datum, apprecatio. Though this convention matches quite well with the division of Arabic letters, I prefer to maintain the Arabic terms used by the Mamluk chancery, which better suit our purposes: iftitāḥ (introductory protocol; invocatio), tarjama (intitulatio), ʿunwān (inscriptio) with the alqāb and nuʿūt (honorific titles), taslīm (salutatio), matn (text), al-khawātim (closing protocol) with the taʾrīkh (datum), and finally, the tawqīʿ (signature; subscriptio). Although these elements constitute the different parts of the letters, not all are relevant for this study. In fact, when looking at the establishment of the status of the addressees, only a few should be considered. The external features include the paper size and layout, and the internal features comprise the iftitāḥ, the honorific titles of the addressee (alqāb and nuʿūt), the taslīm, and finally the signature.103 101 102 103

Ibid. 45. Wansbrough, Lingua franca, esp. chap. 2. The theoretical frame that follows, as well as the tables, have already been published in

200

dekkiche

2.1 External Features 2.1.1 The Paper Size (qaṭʿ al-waraq) The first feature to analyze when trying to evaluate the status of the addressee is the paper size on which the letter was written. In the Islamic chanceries, these sizes were generally designated by fractions of a ṭūmār (⅔, ½, ⅓, ¼, ⅙). During the Mamluk period, the ṭūmār was a full sheet of paper (that is, before any cutting),104 also known as al-farkha.105 These sizes did not apply to a single sheet, but instead to the roll (darj) that constituted the future missive. The darj is a collage106 of paper leaves (waṣl, pl. awṣāl) in the direction of their length or width, whose final length varied depending on the need. The paper size thus refers to the roll’s width, expressed in Egyptian cubits of cloth (bi-dhirāʿ al-qumāsh almiṣrī), i.e., 58.15cm,107 but sometimes measured by finger, span, or carat.108 Paper sizes are already well-known. Al-Qalqashandī and al-Saḥmāwī both list a total of nine different sizes of paper used in the Mamluk chancery of Cairo; these sizes depended upon both the type of documents produced and the addressee’s rank:109 [qaṭʿ al-ṭūmār al-kāmil],110 al-baghdādī al-kāmil, albaghdādī al-nāqiṣ, al-thulthān, al-niṣf, al-thulth, al-manṣūrī/al-ʿāda, [al-ṣaghīr],111 [al-shāmī l-kāmil],112 waraq al-ṭayr/al-baṭāʾiq, [waraq al-muṭlaqāt].113 In the case of official correspondence with foreign rulers, four of the nine sizes were used in the Mamluk chancery of Cairo: qaṭʿ al-baghdādī al-kāmil,114 qaṭʿ

104 105 106 107

108 109 110 111 112 113 114

Dekkiche, Correspondence. There, the tables were used to illustrate the patterns that ruled the exchanges between these two powers. I summarize the theory here and show its wider application for Mamluk exchanges with other entities. For the sake of clarity, I reproduce the tables, too. Humbert, Le Manuscrit arabe 70. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā vi, 189. The joint part of the awṣāl (kollêsis) varies from 0.5 to 2cm. Hinz, Islamische Masse 56; Hinz, D̲ h̲ irāʿ. This measurement modifies the one established by Karabacek, which was 48.8 cm. Humbert, Le Manuscrit arabe, based her measurements on this mistake. I’m grateful to Frédéric Bauden for drawing my attention to this mistake. See his Paper formats. Humbert, Le Manuscrit arabe 72. For the full description of these nine paper sizes, see Dekkiche, Correspondence 145– 6. Only found in al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim ii, 549. Only found in al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā vi, 191. Only found in ibid. vi, 191. Only found in al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim ii, 551. According to al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā vi, 190, the qaṭʿ al-baghdādī al-kāmil was 1 cubit wide, and its length 1.5 cubit. For al-Saḥmāwī, however, that paper was 1 cubit or sometimes 1 cubit minus 2 fingers’ width. Al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim ii, 549.

diplomatics, or another way to see the world table 3.4

201

Paper sizes used for letters

Qaṭʿ al-baghdādī al-kāmil Qaṭʿ al-niṣf Qaṭʿ al-thulth Qaṭʿ al-ʿāda

Letters to the rulers belonging to the first categorya Letters to the rulers belonging to the second category Letters to the rulers belonging to the third category Letters to the rulers belonging to the fourth category

a See below.

al-niṣf,115 qaṭʿ al-thulth,116 and qaṭʿ al-ʿāda;117 each corresponds to one category of rulers. 2.1.2 Blank Spaces (ṭurra) As part of the layout, we must now consider the rule related to the ṭurra, or the sheets (awṣāl) left blank at the beginning of the roll, before the first line of the text (basmala). Influenced by al-Qalqashandī,118 it was long believed that the ṭurra depended upon the paper size, so the wider the paper had more awṣāl left blank at the beginning of the roll.119 As I have shown elsewhere, however, this rule rarely matched reality, as demonstrated by extant samples of letters kept in the chancery manuals. In fact, practice shows the prevalence of another rule, one that depends on the ʿalāma (signature) of the sultan. Three different ʿalāmas are attested, dependent on the addressee’s status: akhūhu (his brother), wāliduhu (his father), or the sultan’s personal name.120 Letters signed with akhūhu or wāliduhu—that is, the most prestigious ʿalāma—generally required a larger ṭurra (three awṣāl), while the use of the sultan’s name implies a shorter ṭurra (only two waṣls).121 These external characters, especially in the case of the paper sizes, set the general frame of the hierarchization of the foreign rulers in contact with the

115 116 117

118 119 120 121

The width of the qaṭʿ al-niṣf was ½ cubit. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā vi, 191; al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim ii, 550. The width of the qaṭʿ al-thulth was ⅓ cubit. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā vi, 191; alSaḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim ii, 550. Al-Qalqashandī and al-Saḥmāwī assign two different measures for the qaṭʿ al-ʿāda: ⅙ cubit and ¼ cubit respectively. I believe al-Qalqashandī’s qaṭʿ al-ʿāda is indeed his qaṭʿ al-manṣūrī, which is ¼ cubit. Only the qaṭʿ al-ṣaghīr is ⅙ cubit. See Dekkiche, Le Caire i, 310. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā vi, 195, 314. Dekkiche, Correspondence 147. See below. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā viii, 21; vi, 314.

202

dekkiche

Mamluk sultans. According to this first set of rules, we can already deduce that foreign sovereigns were divided into four categories. This repartition into four groups evokes that of the masālik literature, at least according to alQalqashandī and al-Saḥmāwī. To deepen our analysis and understanding of these four categories, however, we need to investigate the internal features of the letters. Indeed, through these features, secretaries distinguished subcategories that help us further refine the hierarchization. 2.2 Internal Features 2.2.1 Opening Formulas (iftitāḥ) Two different formulas used in the Mamluk chancery opened letters addressed to foreign rulers—both depending, as usual, upon the addressee’s status.122 The first is referred to as the khuṭba (sermon) and is characterized by the use of the Islamic formulas (the fawātiḥ), such as ḥamdala–tashahhud–taṣliya– baʿdiyya or baʿdiyya–ḥamdala–tashahhud–taṣliya.123 The second consists of invocations (duʿāʾ, pl. adʿiya) for the well-being, success, and good fortune of the addressee. Invocations can be found throughout the entire letter, so I concentrate here on the two types relevant for this study. On the one hand, we find the use of the invocative formula lā zāla–lā bariḥa (continuity, perpetuity).124 Although this type was originally (in the Ayyubid period) given the most importance—that is, its use was restricted to the sultan himself and his most honored correspondents—it seems to have lost its privileged status during the Mamluk period, when its use was extended to a wider range of addressees.125 In fact, the Mamluk chancery seems to use another type of invocations predominantly, that is, those qualified as fī l-ʿuluww wa-l-hubūṭ. As this qualification indicates, these invocations show more than any other a certain hierarchy based on the formulas used. Concretely, these formulas invoke the perpetuity, increase, glory of one’s existence, benefits, victory, or power.126 The use of each particular formula denotes a certain hierarchy (e.g., iṭālat al-baqāʾ > iṭālat al-ʿumr; ʿizz al-anṣār > ʿizz al-naṣr > ʿizz al-nuṣra; muḍāʿafat al-niʿma > dawām al-niʿma, etc.). My survey of the extant chancery manuals and collections of letters shows that this hierarchy follows the division into four categories of rulers outlined above.

122 123 124 125 126

For a more detailed description see Dekkiche, Correspondence 148. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā vi, 224–31; al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim ii, 557–8. Gully, Culture 167. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā vi, 287. Ibid. vi, 284–5; al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim ii, 635–6.

diplomatics, or another way to see the world table 3.5

203

Opening formulas used in letters

Letters to the rulers belonging to the first category Letters to the rulers belonging to the second category Letters to the rulers belonging to the third category Letters to the rulers belonging to the fourth category

Khuṭba; Zīdat ʿaẓamatuhu or dāmat maʿdilatuhu ʿIzz al-anṣār > iṭālat al-baqāʾ > dawām al-sulṭān, khulūd al-mulk lā zāla, lā bariḥa ʿIzz al-naṣra > ʿizz al-nuṣra > mudāwamat al-nuṣra Muḍāʿafat al-niʿma > mudāwamat alniʿma

a Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā vi, 285; al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim ii, 636–7. During the Ayyubid period, the invocations ʿizz al-naṣr and muḍāʿafat al-iqtidār were proper for the sultan.

2.2.2 The Honorific Titles (alqāb and nuʿūt) From its earliest days, the granting of titles has held a very high position in Islamic culture.127 During the Mamluk period, this practice greatly increased as the government apparatus grew in complexity.128 The granting of titles generally occurred during official ceremonies at the citadel. If titles constitute an important aspect of the internal life and organization of the sultanate, it was also highly regarded in the practice of diplomacy with foreign rulers. Secretaries working in the Mamluk chancery understood the importance of title attribution and therefore devoted huge sections of their manuals to the explanation and organization of these titles.129 There, honorific titles are referred to as laqab (pl. alqāb) and naʿt (pl. nuʿūt), where laqab designates an adjective expressed with a single word (e.g., al-maqām), naʿt stands as a compound adjective elaborated by annexion (e.g., rukn al-islām wa-l-muslimīn).130 The honorific titles used in the diplomatic letters exchanged between the Mamluk sultans and their foreign correspondents could be quite long and diverse. Despite the wide range of titles found in the extant sample of letters, one can easily distinguish a common rule of their organization; it can be summarized as follows:131

127 128 129 130 131

Sublet, Le Voile 87. Ayalon, Names. Sublet, Le Voile 7–38, 39–56, 157–94. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā v, 439. For a detailed explanation, see Dekkiche, Correspondence 151.

204

dekkiche

table 3.6

al-Maqām al-Maqarr al-Janāb al-Majlis

Principal laqabs used in letters

For the rulers belonging to the first category For the rulers belonging to the second category For the rulers belonging to the third category For the rulers belonging to the fourth category

principal laqab—secondary laqab, [al-mawlawī]—laqab related to the addressee’s position, al-kabīr(ī)132—laqab of function, …—laqab(ī)— laqab(ī)—…—laqab(ī)—…—al-fulānī [al-dīn]—addressee’s name—naʿt related to the religion—…—…—…—naʿt related to the power (al-mulūk/ al-salāṭīn/amīr al-muʾminīn) The choice of the titles used on either side of this structure were left to the scribes’ inventiveness.133 In this long list, only two titles are important in terms of understanding the addressee’s status as set by the Mamluk sultanate: the principal laqab and the secondary laqab—that is, the first two titles of the list. The principal alqāb are referred to as alqāb makāniyya (places). Secretaries mention seven of them, in order of importance: al-ḥaḍra > al-jānib > al-maqām > al-maqarr > al-janāb > al-majlis > majlis.134 Practice shows, however, that four were used more extensively in the correspondence during the Mamluk period: al-maqām > al-maqarr > al-janāb > almajlis.135 The secondary alqāb (al-alqāb al-mufarraʿa) consist of an adjective further qualifying the principal laqab. We find five alqāb that can be affixed to the principal laqab, each combination illustrating a particular status and hierarchy.

132 133 134 135

The use of -(ī) reinforces the qualitative meaning of the adjective (ṣīghat mubālagha). See al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā v, 503–4. Ibid. vi, 118. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā v, 493–502; al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim i, 515–22. At an earlier time, al-ḥaḍra was the most prestigious title bestowed upon the caliphs. However, during the Mamluk period, it lost its importance and was instead given to nonMuslim kings. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā v, 498. The title al-jānib seems to have been used quite exceptionally in the Mamluk chancery. I have only found its occurrence for the Zaydi Imam of Yemen during the early Turkish period.

205

diplomatics, or another way to see the world table 3.7

I

II

III

IV

Combination of principal–secondary laqabs used in letters

al-Maqām

1

al-Maqām al-ashraf (al-ʿālī)

2

al-Maqām al-sharīf (al-ʿālī)

3

al-Maqām al-ʿālī

1

al-Maqarr al-karīm (al-ʿālī)

2

al-Maqarr al-ʿālī

1

al-Janāb al-karīm (al-ʿālī)

2

al-Janāb al-ʿālī

1

al-Majlis al-ʿālī

al-Maqarr

al-Janāb

al-Majlis

with yāʾ 2

al-Majlis al-sāmī without yāʾ

al-ashraf > al-sharīf > al-karīm > al-ʿālī > al-sāmī136 2.2.3 Taslīm The taslīm ends the introductory protocol of the letters. It also expresses the status of the addressee. This formula, which aims to greet the addressee, comprises several parts. First, we find a formula referring to the publication of the letter, generally introduced by the verb ṣadara (to emanate/to be issued).137 Chancery manuals denote four ways of expressing the publication, depending on the addressee, in order of importance:138 aṣdarnāhā ilā > aṣdarnā hādhihi l-mukātaba ilā > uṣdirat ilā > ṣadarat ilā.

136 137 138

Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā vi, 115–6; al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim i, 515–22. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā vi, 341. This practice goes back to the Seljuq period and was followed by the Ayyubids as well. Ibid. vi, 280; al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim ii, 634.

206

dekkiche

The samples of letters preserved, however, show a wider variety of formulas: aṣdarnā hādhihi l-mufāwaḍa ilā, uṣdirat hādhihi l-mukātaba ilā, ṣadarat hādhihi l-mukātaba ilā, ṣadarat hādhihi l-mufāwaḍa ilā or simply hādhihi lmukātaba ilā, hādhihi l-mufāwaḍa ilā.139 The repetition of the addressee’s titles (in the short version: principal–secondary alqāb) then follows. Second comes the taslīm, strictly speaking—nuhdī/tuhdī ilayhi salāman …—which leads to the introduction of the message itself. The message is clearly announced by a formula expressed by the verb abdā (to reveal) or waḍḍaḥa (to clarify). The full formula consists of the following:140 nu-/tubdī li-ʿilmihi l-sharīf > nu-/tuwaḍḍiḥu li-ʿilmihi l-karīm. 2.2.4 Signature The last part of the letter asserting the addressee’s status is found in the signature, which cannot be considered an external or an internal character. Secretaries describe two types of signatures that were used in official correspondences between the Mamluk sultans and their foreign counterparts: the ṭughrā and the ʿalāma, both variable according to the addressee’s status. The first one, the ṭughrā,141 was not written by the sultan himself but by another person (rajul mufrad), since its realization required good calligraphic skills. The ṭughrā was in fact prepared in advance, on a separate sheet of paper that was then stuck atop the letters before dispatch. The second type of signature, which is the one most used by the Mamluk chancery, is the ʿalāma. We find the ʿalāma signature142 in most types of documents, including the official letters to foreign rulers. Unlike the ṭughrā, the ʿalāma was appended by the sultan himself, on top of the letters,143 between the second and the third line of the text.144 Three formula are known:

139 140 141 142

143 144

The use of mufāwaḍa seemed to become, over time, the more common address for rulers of great importance. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā vi, 281; al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim ii, 634. Stern, Fāṭimid decrees 144, 148. The use of the ṭughrā belongs to the Turkish tradition and can be traced back to the Seljuqs and the Ayyubids. The ʿalāma signature should be distinguished from the ʿalāma motto used during the Fatimid and Ayyubid periods, which was seldom used in the Mamluk chancery, save for certain type of documents, such as the manshūr (allocation of landed property) and in letters addressed to the khans: Allāh amalī. Ibid. 124–30; al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim ii, 646–7. Ibid. ii, 646. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā vi, 314; Heidemann et al., Un décret 86.

diplomatics, or another way to see the world table 3.8

ṭughrā akhūhu wāliduhu ism

207

Signatures used in letters

For the first category of rulers For the second category of rulers For the third category of rulers For the fourth category of rulers

akhūhu (his brother) > wāliduhu (his father) > ism (name of the sultan) As previously outlined in the section devoted to the ṭurra, the different signatures were used depending on the status of the addressee. By comparing these rules to the practice found in the samples of letters preserved, once more we find a division among four categories of sovereign. 2.2.5 Summary As shown in the preceding sections, secretaries in the Mamluk chancery developed an original means of asserting the status of the addressees. We can identify this means from a series of external and internal features, such as paper size, layout, blank space, introductory protocol (opening formula, invocation, honorific titles, salutations), and signatures. These elements can all be found in the letters sent to foreign rulers, and they varied depending on the importance of the addressee in the eyes of the Mamluks. From the description above, it is now clear that those rulers were distributed throughout four categories. The following table recapitulates this hierarchy.

3

Conclusion: Mapping the Rulers

The rules for letter-writing described in the foregoing analysis closely follow the concept of a “non-syntactic” use of the language, as described by John Wansbrough in his Lingua Franca. There, Wansbrough establishes the format of the letters and documents as an interlingual communication and, moreover, as the criteria par excellence aimed at facilitating contacts between foreign entities, despite their linguistic and cultural differences. Indeed a brief look at the samples of documents preserved, as well as the copies kept in the diverse collections, shows that this practice was widespread, especially in the Islamicate world. Therefore, one could easily accept Wansbrough’s postulate, that the chancery practice was an international system understood and recognized by all.

208 table 3.9 No.

I

Paper

dekkiche Recapitulation of the rules for letter-writing Title

Opening/ invocations

al-ḥaḍra – al-maqām al-ashraf

qaṭʿ albaghdādī

1

al-maqām al-sharīf

2

al-maqām al-ʿālī

khuṭba

Salutation

Signature

aṣdarnā(hā) – mufāwaḍa – abdā

ṭughrā

aṣdarnā(hā) – mufāwaḍa – abdā

akhūhu

ṣadarat hādhihi lmukātaba – waḍḍaḥa

akhūhu – wāliduhu

ṣadarat

akhūhu – wāliduhu

aʿazza llāh anṣār

aʿazza llāh anṣār II

al-niṣf

3

al-maqarr al-karīm aʿazza llāh nuṣrat aʿazza llāh anṣār

4

al-maqarr al-ʿālī aʿazza llāh nuṣrat aʿazza llāh anṣār

1 III

al-janāb al-karīm

al-thulth

adāma llāh naṣr/nuṣrat ḍāʿafa llāh niʿmat ḍāʿafa llāh niʿmat

2

al-janāb al-ʿālī adāma llāh niʿmat

1 IV

al-majlis al-ʿālī

adāma llāh niʿmat

al-ʿāda 2

al-majlis al-sāmī

adāma llāh niʿmat

Although Wansbrough had a good intuition, he did not push the analysis further, nor did he try to understand the true essence and aims of this practice. Indeed, beyond merely facilitating contacts among foreign rulers, the format of the letters carried a very important message. If one accepts the postulate that diplomacy was originally set as a means for extending power and authority, its main medium, i.e., the letter, should then be identified as a symbol of socio-political structure and thus a statement of authority. In this perspective

diplomatics, or another way to see the world

209

the format is the most effective representative of diplomacy as it bears in itself the basis of this authority: the establishment of hierarchy. The establishment of hierarchy among foreign rulers was a constant concern within the Mamluk—and, more generally, Islamic—chanceries. We have seen it in the works of secretaries. The masālik wa-l-mamālik, which aimed first and foremost to describe the world surrounding the Mamluk sultanate, already implied a certain hierarchy—more or less enunciated according to the authors. The peak of this genre came with al-Saḥmāwī (mid-ninth/mid-fifteenth century), who truly sought to provide a description of the world close to the practice and the reality of his time. There, the world was presented as divided not only between the Muslims and non-Muslim rulers but also within each group, as organized according to the rulers’ importance in the eyes of the Mamluks. For the Muslim world, al-Saḥmāwī describes that hierarchy as follows: east > north > south > west. This division into four groups also manifests itself in an examination of the rules peculiar to the format of the letters, as illustrated above. Now, do these two models reflect each other? And if so, how? To compare these models, I have analyzed the samples of letters kept in chancery manuals145 and collections of letters (munshaʾāt)146 and compared them to the theory of letter-writing and the rules outlined above. An assessment of the corpus first shows that one must distinguish between two trends: that of the Turkish period (seventh/thirteenth and eighth/fourteenth centuries) and that of the Circassian period (ninth/fifteenth century). The Turkish period recognizes four categories of rulers. The representatives of the first category consist of the Mongol Khans from Iran, Turan, China, and India. In the second category, we can note the main Ilkhanid governors (amīr ulus) as well as the Rasulids. The third group of rulers includes other Ilkhanid clients in Anatolia: the Turkmens of Germiyān in the north. Apparently, southern rulers, such as the rulers of Borno, Kanem, Mali (Takrūr), and the Ethiopian kings, belonged to this category, as did the western Muslim rulers of Ifrīqiya, Tlemcem, Fez, al-Andalus. Finally, the fourth category comprises minor groups or dynasties under Ilkhanids’ influence: the Kurds of Iraq, Turks of Anatolia, Artuqids of Mardin, Ayyubids of Ḥiṣn Kayfā, and Hama (previously included in the Mamluk realm). If the repartition of the rulers into four categories is clear, it does not entirely match the hierarchy proposed by al-Saḥmāwī—namely, east >

145 146

Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, al-Taʿrīf ; Ibn Nāẓir al-Jaysh, Tathqīf al-taʿrīf ; al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā; al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim; Ibn al-Qalqashandī, Qalāʾid al-jumān. Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ and MS Ar. 4440.

210

dekkiche

table 3.10 Distribution of the rulers according to the rules of letter-writing

Cat.

Seventh/thirteenth and eighth/fourteenth centuries

Ninth/fifteenth century (first half)

I

East

Mongols (Iran, Turan, China) India

East

Mongols’ successors (Timurids and Qara Qoyunlu)

II

East

Mongols’ governors (amīrulus), Chobanids, Jalayiridsa Rasulids of Yemen

North

Ottomans (after the fall of Constantinople)

North

Turkmens of Anatolia (Germiyān)

North

Turkmens of Anatolia (Qaramanids)

Southb

Borno, Takrūr, Kanem, Ethiopia

West

Ifrīqiya, Tlemcem, Fez, al-Andalus

East and North

Minor rulers in Iraq (Kurds), Anatolia (Turkmens and Turks), and Syria

III

[Southern and Western rulers?]

IV

East and North

Minor rulers in Iraq (Kurds), and Eastern Anatolia (i.e., Aq Qoyunlu)

a This is the classification starting from mid-eighth/mid-fourteenth century, when the Jalayirids became independent (from the Ilkhanid rule). Earlier, they belonged to the third category of rulers. b Some of southern rulers (i.e., Mali, Borno) do not always strictly follow the typology, as illustrated in Dewière’s article in this volume.

north > south > west—where each area constitutes a separate category. In fact, important eastern rulers are incorporated into the first two categories. As for northern, southern, and western rulers, they all shared the third class—though, within this category, they respect the hierarchy N > S > W. Another problem arises when looking at the details of the rules applied to western rulers. I have placed those rulers within the third category based on the paper size used to write them: al-thulth. Those rulers were addressed as al-ḥaḍra, which corresponds to the first category of rulers, as previously established. This assignment indicates a certain flexibility regarding the chancery rules. If the general frame of letter-writing was normally followed, regional rules also have to be consid-

diplomatics, or another way to see the world

211

ered. It was, in fact, mandatory that the secretaries, when writing to foreign rulers, follow the model of their own letters.147 As table 3.10 shows, during the Circassian period, the four categories of rulers are reduced to three. On the one hand, the use of the paper size al-baghdādī alkāmil was progressively abandoned,148 as was the use of the title al-ḥaḍra. The first categories included the major eastern rulers, such as the Timurids and the Qara Qoyunlu. The Timurids, as the Ilkhanids previously, were the Mamluks’ major rival in the region. Therefore, we observe a number of atypical rules in the earlier letters addressed to the founder of the dynasty, Tīmūr, on account of political concerns.149 After the mid-ninth/mid-fifteenth century, especially after the fall of Constantinople, the Mamluk chancery assigned a higher status to the Ottomans.150 Before that time, they were included in the second categories of rulers, with the other major Turkmen group, namely, the Qaramanids. Finally, the third category includes the client groups, in the eastern and northern regions, such as the Aq Qoyunlu.151 A problem remains, however, as to how the status of southern and western rulers may be determined. Most of the rules described in the ninth-/fifteenth-century chancery manuals refer to earlier practice. It seems that the exchanges of letters between the Mamluk sultanate and those dynasties had become so rare that secretaries did not bother describing the evolution of those practices and only refer to the old ones. As I have sought to show in this article, diplomatics is extremely useful in establishing addressee status and therefore understanding how the Mamluks imagined the world around them. Although some deviations arise based on particular situations (i.e., western and southern rulers, Tīmūr), the rules presented constitute a norm. After tracking the ranks of each ruler according to

147 148

149

150 151

Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā vii, 235. The last reference to it concerned the ruler of Tūrān (during Sultan Faraj’s reign; r. 801– 8/1399–1405; 808–15/1405–12), see al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā vii, 294, 299, 306; and later on during Sultan Barsbāy’s reign (r. 825–41/1422–38), see al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr albāsim, ii, 772. In the earlier opposition between Sultan Barqūq (r. 784–91/1382–9; 792–801/1390–9) and Tīmūr, the Mamluk chancery drafted its letter to him on a al-thulth (⅓) paper size, see alQalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā vii, 308. After Tīmūr’s capture of Damascus, however, the new young Sultan Faraj had the letter to Tīmūr written on a paper size al-thulthayn (⅔), which was quite rare. That letter was also signed with the ṭughrā, which was originally reserved for the Mongols, see ibid. vii, 319–20, 325. Though they were still inferior to the Timurids (addressed to as al-maqām), the Ottomans were only addressed as al-maqarr. Cf. MS Ar. 4440 201b–202a, letter to Ḥamza b. Qarā Yülük.

212

dekkiche

the tables presented, it is important to compare this status to the diplomatic practice described in the chronicles and then to evaluate how these different statuses were dealt with in the reality of exchange.

Bibliography Primary Sources (Handwritten) Ibn al-Qalqashandī, Qalāʾid al-jumān fī muṣṭalaḥ mukātabāt ahl al-zamān, MS OR. 3625, London, BL. Anonymous, Munshaʾa (Arabic), MS Arabe 4440, Paris, BnF.

Primary Sources (Printed) Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, Masālik al-abṣār fī mamālik al-amṣār, ed. ʿA.A. b. Y. al-Sarīḥī, 27 vols., Abu Dhabi 2003–4. Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, al-Taʿrīf bi-l-muṣṭalaḥ al-sharīf, ed. S. al-Durūbī, 2 vols., alKarak 1992. Ibn Ḥijja, Das Rauschgetränk der Stilkunst oder Qahwat al-inšāʾ von Taqīyuddīn Abū Bakr. b. ʿAlī Ibn Ḥiǧǧa al-Ḥamawī al-Azrārī, ed. R. Veselý, Beirut and Berlin 2005. Ibn Khaldūn, The Muqaddimah: An introduction to history, trans. F. Rosenthal, 3 vols., New York 1958. Ibn Nāẓir al-Jaysh, Tathqīf al-taʿrīf bi-l-muṣṭalaḥ al-sharīf, ed. R. Veselý, Cairo 1987. al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā fī ṣināʿat al-inshāʾ, ed. M.ʿA. al-R. Ibrāhīm, 14 vols., Cairo 1913–9, 21963. al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim fī ṣināʿat al-kātib wa-l-kātim, ed. A.M. Anas Mursī, 2 vols., Cairo 2009.

Secondary Sources Antrim, Z., Routes and Realms. The Power of Place in the Early Islamic World, Oxford and New York 2012. Ayalon, D., Names, titles and ‘nisbas’ of the Mamluks, IOS 5 (1975), 189–232. Bauden, F., Paper formats of the Mamluk period: The contribution of Mamluk chancery paper (forthcoming). Cárcel Ortí, M., Vocabulaire international de la diplomatique, Valencia 1997. Dekkiche, M., Correspondence between Mamluks and Timurids in the fifteenth century: An unpublished corpus of official letters (BnF, MS ar. 4440), in ES 11 (2013), 131–60. Dekkiche, M., Le Caire, carrefour des ambassades. Étude historique et diplomatique de la correspondance échangée entre les sultans mamlouks circassiens et les souverains timourides et turcomans (Qara Qoyunlu—Qaramanides) au XVe s. d’après le ms. ar. 4440 (BnF, Paris), 2 vols., PhD dissertation, University of Liège 2011.

diplomatics, or another way to see the world

213

Gully, A., The culture of letter-writing, Edinburgh 2008. Heidemann, S., C. Müller, and Y. Rāġib, Un décret d’al-Malik al-ʿĀdil en 571/1176 relatif aux moines du Mont Sinai, in AI 31 (1997), 81–107. Hinz, W., D̲ h̲ irāʿ, in EI2, ii, 238–9. Hinz, W., Islamische Masse und Gewichte, Leiden 1955. Humbert, G., Le Manuscrit arabe et ses papiers, in REMMM 99–100 (2002), 55–77. Miquel, A., La Géographie humaine du monde musulman jusqu’au milieu du 11e siècle, vol. 1, Paris–La Haye 1967. Muhanna, E., The World in a Book. Al-Nuwayri and the Islamic Encyclopedic Tradition, Princeton and Oxford 2018. Perelman, L., The medieval art of letter writing: Rhetoric as institutional expression, in C. Bazerman and J. Paradis (eds.), Textual dynamics of the professions: Historical and contemporary studies of writing in professional communities, Wisconsin 1991, 97–119. Stern, S.M., Fāṭimid decrees: Original documents from the Fāṭimid chancery, London 1964. Sublet, J., Le Voile du nom. Essai sur le nom propre arabe, Paris 1991. Wansbrough, J., Lingua franca in the Mediterranean, Richmond 1996.

chapter 4

Strong Letters at the Mamluk Court Lucian Reinfandt

Documents played a key role in Mamluk diplomatic practice.1 More prominent than gifts perhaps,2 the exchange of correspondence was a fundamental component of, and not uncommonly the main cause for, diplomatic encounters. Consequently, the presentation and receipt of letters occupied not an insignificant part of the protocol and surely belonged to the more delicate moments of the whole event. If, on the surface, human envoys, officeholders and dignitaries were the actors, their underlying paperwork was the real protagonist. ‘No step without documents’ seems to have been the motto, not very different from the principle of scripturality (Aktenmäßigkeit) prevalent in modern public administration.3 1 Research for this article was conducted under the auspices of the project “The Language of Power II: Official Epistolography in Islamic Egypt (642–969)” funded by the FWF Austrian Science Fund. The project was part of the National Research Network (NFN) “Imperium and Officium: Comparative Studies in Ancient Bureaucracy and Officialdom” https://iowp.univie.ac.at/ [accessed 1 Nov. 2018]. The quotation of documentary texts follows the conventions of the ISAP Checklist of Arabic Documents http://www.naher‑osten.lmu.de/ isapchecklist and the Arabic Papyrology Bibliography http://www.naher‑osten.lmu.de/apb [all accessed 18 Jan. 2015]. I am indebted to Valerie Joy Turner for substantially improving the English. 2 On the role of gifts in diplomatic encounters, especially the rationality of keeping records of incoming gifts in special registers (sijillāt) and scrupulously maintaining the equality in value, cf. Behrens-Abouseif, Practising diplomacy; also the study by Maḥāsin Muḥammad alWaqqād, al-Hadāyā wa-l-tuḥaf zaman salāṭīn al-mamālīk al-baḥriyya, 648–784 h./1250–1382 m., Ḥawliyyāt Kulliyyat al-Ādāb, Jāmiʿat ʿAyn Shams 28 (2000), 185–240, cited in Bauden, Les Relations 13, note 77. 3 Aktenmäßigkeit is a technical term from public administration in the continental tradition and is difficult to translate into English. It basically means that every single act of administrative action must be documented in files and that the state of an affair should be traceable in the files at any moment (“das Prinzip fordert, dass sich der Stand einer Angelegenheit jederzeit aus der Akte ergibt”); cf. Art. “Schriftlichkeit (Aktenmäßigkeit)” in the German online encyclopedia of public administration olev.de, http://www.olev.de/s/schriftlichkeit .htm [accessed 18 Jan. 2015]. Scripturality (Aktenmäßigkeit) forms a key concept in Max Weber’s model of bureaucratization; cf. Weber, Economy and society 988 (“Increasingly, all order in public and private organisations is dependent on the system of files and the discipline of officialdom, that means, its habit of painstaking obedience within its wonted sphere of action. The latter is the more decisive element, however important in practice the files

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2019 | doi:10.1163/9789004384637_005

strong letters at the mamluk court

1

215

A Nasrid Mission to the Sultan in Cairo

Reports of foreign missions to Mamluk rulers emphasize the role of documents in diplomatic encounters. These documents possessed a substantial ‘power of the written word,’ as is evident from the eyewitness account of an Andalusian delegation that appeared before al-Ẓāhir Jaqmaq (r. 842–57/1438–53) in Cairo in 844/1440.4 The delegation was sent from the Nasrid court of Granada to call on the Mamluk sultan and seek help for the oppressed Muslims of Andalusia against the Christian reconquest. One member of the delegation later wrote, from memory, the particulars of the audience: So my aforementioned kinsman broke open the envelope and took the letter out. The (sultan’s) confidential secretary, who was in those days the qāḍī Kamāl al-Dīn Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad al-Bārizī l-Ḥalabī—may God protect him!—accepted it and, after studying it for a while, informed (the sultan about the contents): “My Lord—may God give you victory!— this is a letter from the ruler of Andalusia in which he complains to you about the hardships he is suffering from his Frankish neighbors. He seeks assistance from you!” Thereat (the sultan) turned his face towards us and declared: “I will charge Ibn ʿUthmān with the procurement of your help, God willing!”5 are.”), being the English translation of Weber, Wirtschaft und Gesellschaft 570 (“Die ‘Akten’ einerseits und andererseits die Beamtendisziplin, das heißt die Eingestelltheit der Beamten auf präzisen Gehorsam innerhalb ihrer gewohnten Tätigkeit, werden damit im öffentlichen wie privaten Betrieb zunehmend die Grundlage aller Ordnung. Vor allem aber—so praktisch wichtig die Aktenmäßigkeit der Verwaltung ist—die ‘Disziplin’.”); and Weber, Economy and society 219 (“Administrative acts, decisions, and rules are formulated and recorded in writing, even in cases where oral discussion is the rule or is even mandatory. This applies at least to preliminary discussions and proposals, to final decisions, and to all sorts of orders and rules”), being the English translation of Weber, Wirtschaft und Gesellschaft 126 (“Es gilt das Prinzip der Aktenmäßigkeit der Verwaltung, auch da, wo mündliche Erörterung tatsächlich Regel oder geradezu Vorschrift ist: mindestens die Vorerörterungen und Anträge und die abschließenden Entscheidungen, Verfügungen und Anordnungen aller Art sind schriftlich fixiert.” [italics in the original]). 4 Al-Ahwānī, Sifāra siyāsiyya. This text is also dealt with in greater detail by Boloix-Gallardo in this volume. Cf. also Bauden, Les Relations 12–3. I am very grateful to Anne Broadbridge who drew my attention to this text and subsequently (in 1997) provided me with a copy of it. 5 Al-Ahwānī, Sifāra siyāsiyya 103 (my translation). The passage in the Arabic original reads: “fa-fakka ṣihrunā l-madhkūr al-jaʿba wa-stakhraja l-kitāb minhā fa-akhadhahu minhu kātim sirrihi ḥīnaʾidh al-qāḍī Kamāl al-Dīn Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad al-Bārizī l-Ḥalabī ḥafiẓahu llāhu fa-taṣaḥḥafahu sāʿa thumma qāla lahu yā mawlānā naṣṣarakum Allāh hādhā l-kitāb min

216

reinfandt

The head of delegation opened the envelope ( jaʿba) and delivered the letter to the sultan.6 The sultan did not take hold of the letter himself but left it to his confidential secretary (kātim al-sirr) who was in fact the head of the bureau of documents.7 The secretary read it and studied it and, after understanding the text, communicated the content to the sultan, notabene not by reading the letter aloud but by paraphrasing it in his own words.8 It is as if a letter to the sultan from outside the court needed a kind of filtration, the material letter was not touched by the addressee himself but by a deputy, and the text was not read unfiltered but in a quasi pre-digested version from the mouth of a trusted courtier. The sultan then decided principally in favor of the Andalusians and delegated further proceedings to the Ottoman sultan (Ibn ʿUthmān). It was only at this point that a conversation between the sultan and the guests—the human envoys of the letter—came into play. The text of the letter, with its precise wording and details, must have played a role in subsequent proceedings. But it is a striking fact that the sultan’s decision, which was the crucial moment of success or failure of the entire mission, was taken on the basis of the secretary’s paraphrase. The letter must have been sufficiently trenchant though, in regard to both appearance and content, to make its way through local potentates to Cairo and, once in Cairo, through the hands of and to the tongue of the sultan’s secretary to the sultan himself. How can we explain the fact that written letters could persuade rulers to comply with considerable requests (of degree and distance,

ṣāḥib jazīrat al-Andalus yashtakī laka mā aṣābahu mina l-Ifranj al-mujāwirīn lahu wa-yaṭlub minka najda tuʿīnuhu bi-hā fa-ltafata ilaynā wa-qāla sa-abʿathu ilā Ibn ʿUthmān yuʿīnukum in shāʾa llāh.” 6 The basic meaning of jaʿba is a quiver for arrows; cf. Lane, Arabic-English Lexicon ii, 428. Dozy, Supplément i, 197 gives the more general meanings “étui, coffret” and “tube, tuyau.” From the latter especially it is reasonable to assume that jaʿba in the case at hand denotes a tubelike container, made of wood or stiff leather, for the transport and protection of rolled-up documents (see fig. 1.2 above). The verb fakka mentioned in connection with this container alludes to either untying or breaking something. Both are possible here, fakka either meaning untying the laces of a leather bag or breaking a seal. The latter seems more plausible to me, however, fakka l-jaʿba here actually means the breaking of a sealed letter tube. 7 The term kātim al-sirr is synonymous with kātib al-sirr with the meaning of a “confidential secretary called sometimes also intendant or controller of the bureau of documents (dīwān al-inshāʾ, or al-mukātabāt), with the duty of reading to the Sultan official correspondence, supervising and assigning to the proper bureaus the drafting of replics, securing the Sultan’s signature thereto and dispatching them … He also attended the Sultan in the Palace of Justice to hear the reading of petitions and sign decisions thereon, and sometimes himself took action without recourse to the Sultan” (Popper, Egypt and Syria 97). 8 Bauden, Les Relations 12.

strong letters at the mamluk court

217

and perhaps even of obscure circumstances)? First, letters were elaborate artworks. Their extraordinary appearance guaranteed the sovereignty of the correspondent. In addition, there was a more material aspect of the matter, letters conveyed a whole range of textual and visual information that met a reference point intelligible to the addressee. And finally, letters were designed to meet their recipients’ expectations and to appeal to their emotions. Thus materiality, formulary, and rhetoric all constituted basic factors of letter-writing. And, at the risk of belaboring the point, letters were the products of complex interpersonal relations, they contained information that exceeded the text itself many times over. Still, the effectiveness of the Andalusian letter is striking. There must have been something emblematic in official letters that was beyond words and yet was ‘readable’ for recipients, even those who did not know the exact content of the letter. These were signs that guaranteed the authenticity of the writing and the authority of its originator without verification of their backgrounds. The phenomenon of paper money comes to mind, the nominal value of which is never questioned by its owner, in spite of the banknote paper’s insignificant material value. Seals and watermarks (the insignia of authenticity) as well as a general acceptance and the certainty that one can divest oneself of it anytime (the common reference frame) are sufficient proof of its value.

2

Strong Letters

In respect to documents, a telling if perhaps extreme parallel from the modern world is the decisive role that writing played in the Comintern of the 1930s.9 Despotic in the best sense of the word, Stalin’s mood held absolute power. At the same time, there was a remarkable belief in the power of paper; not all the writings contained Stalin’s own words or those of his apparatus. This is an astonishing breakdown of individual short-term caprice into bureaucratic slowness. Whatever the reasons, envoys risked their lives to smuggle writings containing the latest resolutions. Veteran party secretaries burst into tears when learning about the contents of a document. And, most important for its proximity to the subject of this study, letters of consignment opened doors for the letter-holders, whoever they were and whenever they came. In a system

9 A history of the Comintern can be found in Schumacher, Die Kommunistische Internationale (apologetic).

218

reinfandt

where everything was controlled from the top down, any document from the top was Stalin in person. Arthur Koestler spoke of ‘strong letters’ in this connection.10 One should not overstate the parallels between Comintern party bureaucracies and the Mamluk court. But at least some similar features underlay the role and function of ‘strong letters’ in running political affairs. It is as if a writing was temporarily loaded with the physical power of its issuer, like a battery. The phenomenon is well known in the context of legal deeds, for which the issuing and subsequent validation of writings already imposes law. A dispositive deed substitutes the real but irreproducible legal act, thereby ensuring its prolonged legal validity. Two kinds of restrictions are imposed: legal validity is guaranteed only as long as the paper deed is on hand; and, second, the issuing of the deed cannot be done by just anyone, rather it requires professional notaries and witnesses of good reputation, in other words, authorized persons and generally accepted institutions to serve its purpose.11 Official letters were connatural. On a textual level, letters were first and foremost containers of information to preserve on paper what could not be kept in mind. The textual content could also authenticate the otherwise more detailed oral message by the courier who was delivering the letter; it could also serve as future proof in those cases where letters were kept in archives. Moreover letters could bridge spatial distances. The king could not travel all the way to the Nubians himself—the letter could; the king could not travel to the Nubians and the Tatars at the same time—the letter could, when sent in copies. Above all, writings were instrumental in creating the physical presence of the letterwriter at the addressee’s location, all by means of material, artistry of script, professionalism of formulary, authenticity of validation, and impressiveness of style and rhetoric. Letters were not only extensions of the king (that was the messenger), but the king himself.

10

11

Crossman, The God 56 (“The Executive Committee of the Communist International, in its turn, provided me with a so-called ‘strong’ letter asking all Soviet authorities to help me to accomplish my mission … A letter of this kind carries in Soviet Russia the weight of a decree.”). Cf. the definition of dispositive deeds on the website of the University of Hamburg: Dispositive deeds create law by their issuance and supplant the real legal act. The effectiveness of dispositive deeds, however, is reliant on an adequate authority on behalf of the issuer. (“Eine dispositive Urkunde schafft durch ihre Ausstellung das Recht. Sie tritt an die Stelle der eigentlichen Rechtshandlung. Für die Wirkung einer dispositiven Urkunde ist jedoch eine ausreichende Autorität des Ausstellers von Nöten.”), http://www.phil‑gesch.uni ‑hamburg.de/edition/Diplomatik/glossardiplomatik.htm#D [accessed 24 August 2012].

strong letters at the mamluk court

219

Hence the striking power of the written word in diplomatic encounters. Admittedly the courier was also important to the process of submitting the letter with proper ceremony, taking care of eventualities when the letter required additional oral information, or bringing himself into additional negotiations in the event that the mission of the letter failed. Although we know something about how letters were presented to their recipients, the whole issue of written letters and human messengers, of the oral and written delivery of information, remains a vexed question.12 Eva Grob’s contention may well be true: couriers had an important role in official high-level correspondence during the first centuries of Islam, as messages were entrusted to the courier and his speech was the main event.13 But this seems to have diminished over time and writings overshadowed their couriers by virtue of their sophisticated form, which had also developed over the course of time. What we know from the later Middle Ages is that a well-drafted letter most likely served its purpose, with or without human support. On a technical level at least, one could learn the trade of drawing up strong letters. In fact, the whole medieval genre of scribal manuals, the inshāʾ literature, served this one purpose.14 The Kitāb al-Taʿrīf bi-l-muṣṭalaḥ al-sharīf by Shihāb al-Dīn Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī (d. 749/1349), the Kitāb Tathqīf al-taʿrīf by Taqī l-Dīn Ibn Nāẓir al-Jaysh (d. 786/1384), and the Kitāb Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā fī ṣināʿat al-inshāʾ by Abū l-ʿAbbās Aḥmad al-Qalqashandī (d. 821/1418), to name but a few from a far wider genre, are well-known examples from the Mamluk period. These three served as the main basis for two important recent studies, Marie Favereau’s analysis of how scribal manuals influenced the art of drafting, and Anne Broadbridge’s study of Mamluk courtly procedures.15 In the following, al-Qalqashandī’s formal instructions are examined with a choice of original documents from the internal Mamluk administration that were published in the last two decades. These documents are a convenient complement to, and reference material for, the diplomatic letters of international format and from

12

13 14

15

For the procedures of submitting letters, cf. the detailed information in Gully, The culture of letter-writing. For the distinction of written (mukātabāt) and oral (mushāfahāt) messages and the role of couriers, cf. Bauden, Les Relations 11–2. Grob, Documentary Arabic 99. Classical overviews of inshāʾ and the genre of inshāʾ literature can be found in Veselý, Zur arabischen Kanzleiliteratur; Roemer, Inshāʾ; Bosworth, Administrative literature; Veselý, Die inšāʾ-Literatur. For recent discussions of scribal manuals from the Mamluk era, cf. Bauden, Les Relations; Favereau, Comment le sultan mamlouk. For introductions into the genesis of Arabic epistolography, see Latham, The beginnings; Hachmeier, Die Entwicklung. Favereau, Comment le sultan mamlouk; Broadbridge, Diplomatic conventions.

220

reinfandt

the top layer of Mamluk administration.16 They make evident the high degree of formality already present in writings from the middle-level bureaucracy in Egypt. Moreover, they show how official writings in general conveyed messages that were twofold in nature, one being information of a factual nature, the other one being markers of hierarchy and dominion. The greater the extent of hierarchy and dominion in the texts, the higher the degree of formality in the design. In these cases, the medium (material, format, script) was not less important than the text itself.

3

Theoretical Guidelines and Actual Chancery Practice

Al-Qalqashandī’s Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā contains, broadly speaking, two strings of information, one being encyclopedic knowledge of historical and geographical facts, the other practical instructions of how to draft correspondence.17 The latter is of interest here. The information provided can be subdivided into four categories according to systematic considerations:18 (1) narrative aspects of the 16 17

18

About the documents and the studies done thus far, cf. the exhaustive overview in Bauden, Mamluk era 27–32. Björkman, Beiträge 75; Van Berkel, The attitude 162. Al-Qalqashandī traces his own knowledge of Islamic chancery culture to the first/seventh century, thus he strongly emphasizes the idea of continuity and the evolution of the Islamic chancery tradition; cf. Wansbrough, Lingua franca 85. Al-Qalqashandī himself had attained knowledge of contemporaneous bureaucracy and documents by working as a clerk in the Egyptian administration. When mentioning his own sources of knowledge, he shows substantial transparency. For information about conditions in the past he built on existing scribal manuals, especially Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī’s K. Masālik al-abṣār (for historical and geographical details) and the same author’s K. al-Taʿrīf bi-l-muṣṭalaḥ al-sharīf (for documents). Both Ibn Faḍl Allāh and al-Qalqashandī were born into families of scholars and administrators, Ibn Faḍl Allāh being an offspring of the Banū Faḍl Allāh family of secretaries. For Ibn Faḍl Allāh, Hartmann, Politische Geographie, 7 puts it in these words: gained in practice, for use in practice (“für die Praxis bestimmt und aus der Praxis entstanden”). For an overview of al-Qalqashandī’s literary oeuvre, cf. Bosworth, al-Ḳalḳas̲h̲andī. Al-Qalqashandī’s sources are worked out in detail by Björkman, Beiträge 75–86. For an excellent study of the internal structure of al-Qalqashandī’s Ṣubḥ, see Van Berkel, The attitude. The relation of al-Qalqashandī’s model descriptions and actual documentary practice is analyzed by Favereau, Comment le sultan mamlouk; cf. also Bauden, Les Relations. The third maqāla in the Ṣubḥ (al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā v, 399 to vi, 262) “is an introduction to the more technical aspects of the art of composing documents and explains the technical terms associated with it,” while the fourth through ninth maqālas (vi, 263 to xiv, 123) contain “information on specific genres of official documents illustrated by examples” and “the relatively small tenth maqāla” (xiv, 124–410) discusses “other types of writing, not connected with secretarial writing” (Van Berkel, The attitude 161–2).

strong letters at the mamluk court

221

texts of documents; (2) the formulary of the texts of documents; (3) aspects of materiality and the layout of documents; (4) everything related to subsequent documentary procedure. It is of some interest to contrast this program with actual documents either preserved as copies in scribal manuals or as originals in Western or Middle Eastern library collections and archives. This approach is promising insofar as the number of editions of original documents has in the last twenty years increased considerably and now forms a basis not previously available. In the following, I offer a few examples to highlight the aforementioned categories. (1) The first category discusses facts, rhetoric, and the style of the letters. Apart from the correct use of grammar and lexicon, more subtle aspects of a rhetorical nature and other narrative aspects denoting inter-personal and even bodily gestures are addressed here.19 In Mamluk edicts, the expression “his brother” (akhūhu) was often used in this regard; it emphasized the bonds and friendship with the addressee and reduced status distinctions. Often this word is written in isolation and in a prominent position in the document (see figs. 4.5 and 4.1 below).20 This may be taken as an argument for it to be considered a matter of formulary or layout (categories two and three) rather than content, and indeed there is a certain systematic overlap. But there are cases where the visual accentuation is less conspicuous, as the word is definitely part of the narrative (see fig. 4.2 below).21 Another common element is the verbalization of bodily gestures, like the sender’s prostration before the addressee or his kissing of the addressee’s hands.22 All this is ritualized speech and again overlaps 19

20

21 22

A challenge for letter-writers was how to convey textual information that was comprehensible but protected against the curiosity of readers other than the addressee. AlQalqashandī (in vol. 9 of his Ṣubḥ) offers a number of anecdotes and examples of how letter-writers conveyed messages of encoded information by means of indirect or symbolic allusions. And how these allusions were sometimes misunderstood by the recipients, either because they were taken literally (by mistake) and thus not recognized as such, or simply because they were unintelligible. Cf. Bosworth, Some historical gleanings, with English translation. Another problem especially prevalent in societies of limited literacy was the question of how to formulate a letter that was destined to be read not only by the addressee but by other people helping the addressee to read. For examples of how to address illiterate women intimately in letters, cf. Goitein, A Mediterranean society 218. P. Vind. Arab. III 12, 3: akhūhu Mūsā b. Ariqṭāy “his brother Mūsā b. Ariqṭāy”; P. Vind. Arab. III 5, 1–3: akhūhu Ḥasan al-ʿĀnī “His brother Ḥasan al-ʿĀnī.” Diem, Arabische amtliche Briefe 26 interprets the use of akh as an attempt to diminish the distance in status between sender and addressee. The same has been observed already by Stern, Fāṭimid decrees 158 in connection with the use of akh in the ʿalāmas of sultans. P. Vind. Arab. II 19, 22. For an example of the prostration, see P. Vind. Arab. III 44, 1: al-mamlūk Uzdamur …

222

reinfandt

with formal matters (category two). But these statements must have had a stronger effect on the addressee than the courier himself could have evoked by his gestures. By verbalizing the bodily gestures on the part of the sender, the letter did nothing less than convey the sender’s physical presence before the addressee.23 (2) To the second category belong all matters of formulary, like titles, phrases, and rhymed prose. These are elements extrinsic to the narrative of the text yet are part of the textual information. In relation to the courier, one could say by analogy, this was everything expressed not verbally but with gestures and behavior. How were correspondences (mukātabāt) drafted for particular addressees, whether Muslim or non-Muslim, high or low in rank, or for particular occasions, exceptional and urgent or rather routine matters?24 There are interesting cases where Christian clerks used the formulary typical for Islamic documents even when addressing coreligionists (and colleagues) working in the same administration. The formularies applied resemble those outlined in scribal manuals.25 Another issue was how to address a recipient with the appropriate titles and master the subtle gradations of phrases of politeness.26 A decree issued by

23 24

25

26

yuqabbilu l-arḍ wa-yunhī … “the slave Özdämür kisses the ground and makes known …” Al-Qalqashandī discusses this expression in al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā vi, 339–40 and vii, 119–20. Examples of the kissing of hands can be found in P. Vind. Arab. III 43, 4–6: mamālīk dīwānayi l-ishrāf wa-l-ʿamal … yuqabbilūna yadayhimā wa-yunhū (sic) ilayhimā … “The slaves of the offices of control and financial administration … kiss their hands and make known …”; and P. Vind. Arab. III 67, 2: al-mamlūk yuqabbilu ayādī sayyidinā l-qāḍī … “The slave kisses the hands of the qāḍī N.N.” About the historical development of this formula in petitions, cf. Khan, The historical development. In his fourth maqāla, al-Qalqashandī gives examples of letters sent from Mamluk rulers to Byzantine and Frankish rulers in the north (al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā viii, 43–53; translated into French by Lammens, Correspondances diplomatiques) and to the Pope of Rome (ibid. viii, 42–3; translated by Lammens, Relations officielles) and infidel rulers in the western lands (ibid. viii, 33–8; translated by Lammens, Correspondances diplomatiques), as well as examples of non-Arabic letters from infidel rulers arriving in Cairo in 814/1411 (ibid. viii, 121–5; translated by Lammens, Correspondances diplomatiques). Also cf., for all of these, Bosworth, Christian and Jewish religious 62–4. Diem, Arabische amtliche Briefe 70. A good example is P. Vind. Arab. III 20, the relevant elements being here the basmala (line 1), the duʿāʾ (line 9), and the ḥasbala (line 10). The fact that the addressee is Christian as well is not explicitly mentioned in the text itself nor is it explicitly stated in Diem’s edition; it seems evident however by the fact that the letter-writer informs the addressee of intimate Christian circumstances (taking the Holy Communion in a monastery as an excuse for his delayed arrival). The order of names in addresses, choice of titles and uses of salutation formulae, and polite eulogies for Muslim correspondents are explained in al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā

strong letters at the mamluk court

223

a local Mamluk official to country folk features elaborate epithets that emphasized the letter writer’s high rank (see fig. 4.3 below).27 These were designed to display the grandeur of the government; they were typical of writings from the administration to the populace. The internal writings— those written to others within the administrative body—stand in marked contrast. Here the wording shows no splendor; it is merely routine. Only in cases of hierarchical difference can one find references to status, like a marked ʿalāma on the right margin that gave a writing some official character (see fig. 4.4 below).28 Such references are completely absent in writings between members of the bureaucracy of more or less equal rank, where the sparse use of titles and phrases is prevalent, probably because the formulary is of minor importance and the emphasis is clearly on the narrative content.29 (3) Into the third category fall matters of support, size, color of ink, script, and the layout of the document. These are aspects extrinsic to the textual con-

27

28

29

vi, 197–365 (translated into English by Bosworth, Christian and Jewish religious 60–1). For titles of Christian and Jewish religious dignitaries in general cf. ibid. v, 472–4 (translated by Bosworth, ibid. 66–71) and ibid. vi, 121–72 as well as their use in phrases and addresses, ibid. vi, 173–4 (translated by Bosworth, ibid. 71–4). Examples for letters of appointment (tawāqīʿ, sg. tawqīʿ) and letters of recommendation (waṣāyā, sg. waṣiyya), both addressed to leaders of the dhimmīs in Egypt, display the respective honorific titles (ibid. xi, 385– 405; translated by Bosworth, ibid. 72–4, 199). One of them is a letter of appointment of the new Jacobite Patriarch of Egypt, which contains the patriarch’s honorific titles in exactly the same wording as is recommended in ibid. vi, 173; cf. Bosworth, ibid. 205. P. Vind. Arab. III 2, 3–5: al-marsūm bi-l-amr al-karīm al-ʿālī l-amīrī l-kabīrī l-sayyidī lmālikī l-makhdūmī l-sayfī Yashbak al-Muḥammadī l-dawādār al-sharqī l-malakī l-ashrafī aʿazzahu llāh taʿālā ilā l-mashāyikh wa-l-fallaḥīn bi-nāḥiyat Shaybat Shaqqāda bi-l-Sharqiyya waffaqahum Allāhu taʿālā … “(This) decree containing the high and noble order from the great amir, the imperious and possessing master Sayf al-Dīn Yashbak al-Muḥammadī, who is the secretary of (the province of) al-Sharqiyya for al-Malik al-Ashraf—may God the Most High strengthen him!—has been issued to the heads and farmers of the district of Shaybat Shaqqāda in (the province of) al-Sharqiyya—may God the Most High give them success! …” An example is P. Vind. Arab. III 10, 1 (order by a superior to a subaltern official): sharḥu hādhā l-amr al-mubārak wa-tawqīʿihi huwa … “The exposition of this blessed order and the related decree is …” P. Vind. Arab. III 16, 2–4: kitābī aṭāla llāh baqāʾaka wa-adāma ʿizzaka wa-saʿādataka wasalāmataka wa-atamma niʿmatahu ʿalayka wa-zāda fī iḥsānihi ilayka wa-faḍlihi ʿindaka ʿan salāma wa-l-ḥamd lillāh rabb al-ʿālamīn kaṯīran dāyiman abadan. “I am writing—may God prolong your life and make permanent your honor, happiness and well-being! May He complete His mercy on you and increase His benevolence and favor against you!— while I am safe and sound—praise be to God the lord of all mankind, many times, always and forever!”

224

reinfandt

tent, yet they contain documentary information, or relate to the courier: his status, dress, and gifts. Again there are substantial parallels between al-Qalqashandī’s renowned section about script types, paper qualities, and size of documents on the one hand and original documents on the other.30 An example is the directive sent by a high Mamluk to an only slightly subaltern correspondent. It is written on paper of conspicuously fine quality and in a skillful and experienced chancery script, the lavish layout of the document and the large spaces between the lines reveal the high rank of the sender. A heavily vocalized basmala served purely decorative purposes and stands in contrast to the remaining lines that are not vowelized or punctuated, as the seemingly well-versed addressee is not in need of them (see fig. 4.5 below).31 A private letter, by comparison, might be written by a skillful hand on paper in a similarly lavish way, but the script would be more lax and feature ligatures inappropriate for chancery letters.32 Here the writing served no official and ceremonial purpose but the transmission of narrative information. Accordingly the script was used not as an emblem of power but to record content. (4) The last category concerns the authentication, validation, and subsequent documentary procedure, like signatures and seals, registration marks, dockets, and individual handmarks. These were extrinsic to the document as a whole, yet still contained additional information. Seals, notes, and marks were applied to the document after the text had been drawn up or even after the document had been received by the addressee. Such were documents of a secondary nature. They were not expressions of the issuer’s will but its subsequent legal treatment. Petitions are a good genre to study these processes.33 The complaint by a mosque employee in al-Ushmūnayn (in Middle Egypt) to the sultan in Cairo is a model case. The text of the petition, as the starting point and the central part of the

30

31 32

33

Script type, paper size (maqādīr qaṭʿ al-waraq), and format of letters emanating from the Mamluk chancery are explained in al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā viii, 20, translated into French by Lammens, Correspondances diplomatiques 159–60; ibid. iii, 51–226; vi, 189–96; xi, 385–405; Ibn al-Ṣayrafī, al-Qānūn 100. P. Vind. Arab. III 12. A good example is P.Philad.Arab. 113r (= Diem, Arabische amtliche Briefe) that features repeated ligatures of the letters ‫ا‬, ‫د‬, ‫ر‬, and ‫ و‬to the left (following letter) as well as ligatures between words. Common phrases are written in a particularly slurred way, at times entire letters are more or less omitted. Cf. Diem, Ein mamlūkischer Brief 131. Diem, Arabische amtliche Briefe 231. About registration marks on late medieval chancery documents, cf. Veselý, Die Hauptprobleme; Veselý, Die richterlichen Beglaubigungsmittel; Die richterlichen Beglaubigungsmittel 3.

strong letters at the mamluk court

225

document, is displayed on the recto of the sheet and is drawn up in conventional form. The writing was directed to the sultan, but the actual recipient was the commander-in-chief and grand amir (atābak al-ʿasākir), who was the sultan’s deputy. The grand amir initiated proceedings on his behalf by writing a vertical notice of receipt on the then blank verso. Then he turned his attention to the petition on the recto again and, after studying the case, prepared his suggestion for the sultan, here in favor of the complainant. The suggestion was positioned on the left upper corner of the recto and written in diagonal direction to make it eye-catching, no doubt. The sultan received the document, and followed the suggestion of his grand amir on the recto; he had his official answer written on the verso of the sheet that was still blank with the exception of the short notice of receipt that the grand amir endorsed. As a last step in the procedure, the sultan wrote his signature by his own hand on top of the verso (see figs. 4.6–4.7 below).34 The petition document, with its reply, was then returned to the complainant, who used it to assert his claims (effective immediately) against the local authorities.35 More than any text written on the document it was the impressive conglomerate of official remarks and glosses, the more the better, that guaranteed the document’s effectiveness before the local authorities.

4

About the Semiotic Value of Documents

Official administrative letters from the Mamluk period served a double purpose of informing and affecting their addressees. They informed them about occurrences that were related to the senders, and they appealed to the addressees to comply with the intentions of their senders. Letters conveyed both textual and non-textual information that interacted to form a complex yet intelligible message for the addressee. Annabel Teh Gallop has coined this the “look of the letter,” while John Wansbrough has spoken of a semiotic value of documents.36 Both allude to the multilayered composition of material, format, script, and content that proved the written word was equal, if not superior, to the oral

34 35

36

P. Vind. Arab. III 48, the answer being issued in the name of, and the signature written by, Baybars I (r. 658–76/1260–77). Cf. El-Leithy, Living documents 397–8; 408; 422–5 about the importance of physical documents, here especially the responses to petitions, for citizens and their efforts to find a voice and gain their rights in the Mamluk era. Gallop, Elevatio 42; Wansbrough, Lingua franca 79.

226

reinfandt

message. Letters conveyed messages exceeding the immediate textual content of the writings. These supra-textual messages were bound to the medium and intelligible for addressees.37 They could unlock their potential, however, only on the basis of a common reference frame. To take up the metaphor of paper money mentioned earlier, the value of the banknote is guaranteed on the grounds of a general acceptance and the certainty that one can divest oneself of it anytime. This common reference frame, the common rules of the game, prevailed and were shared by all those in the Mediterranean region; it was this frame that was indispensable for diplomatic coexistence. The frame has been coined, again by John Wansbrough, the lingua franca: a meta-language of conventions applicable for encoding and decoding complex semiotic contents of written messages.38 The semiotic value of documents may indeed be one of the reasons for the fact that scribal manuals tend to focus on writings rather than procedures. Al-Qalqashandī states that the assertion of sovereignty was the most important object of official correspondence.39 Writings were emblems of power, and the responsibility of exploiting this potential lay in the hands of chanceries. Accordingly, al-Qalqashandī in his Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā provides ample information about the making of writings. At the same time he is concise in describing their ceremonial treatment. He says almost nothing about the etiquette of handing over letters or about how they were read aloud in public, although this deserves a good deal of treatment. The genre and the division of labor surely had a hand in that, for it was the making of writings that was the main concern of chancery manuals, while the use of documents in practice was the subject of chronicles, travel accounts, and mirrors for princes.40 But suspicion remains that administrative letters were strong per se and did not require ceremonial support, rather ceremonial aspects should not be treated in chancery manuals. To return to the Andalusian delegation in Cairo mentioned earlier: the salient point of the audience story is the fact that the letter eclipsed the human delegation as the main actor on the scene. The journey of a delegation bringing a letter to Cairo became a journey of a letter that was accompanied by the delegation. Everywhere on its road the letter enjoyed status and was treated with respect, not only with regard to its content (and the possible consequences

37 38 39 40

Ibid.; Brett, Lingua franca 3. Wansbrough, Lingua franca vii. I am grateful to Jo van Steenbergen who reminded me of this book. Cf. al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā viii, 233. Examples are Ibn al-Farrāʾ (d. 425/1034), K. Rusul al-mulūk; al-ʿAbbāsī (d. after 708/1308), Āthār al-uwal, chap. 7; both cited in Bauden, Les Relations 11 notes 67–8.

strong letters at the mamluk court

227

arising from the content) but also with regard to its material appearance. This is evident from an earlier passage in the same account that paints a picture of the moment the delegation passed through Alexandria on its way to Cairo. The Mamluk governor there received the Andalusians and interrogated them about their mission. Presumably he was even shown the letter tube with its seal as a kind of passport. From the eyewitness’ account one gets the impression of a cheerful encounter, during which sugared rose lemonade was served. But the letter tube was not opened and the writing not shown.41 This episode is presumably paradigmatic of similar receptions earlier on the road to Egypt. The letter was shown to local rulers but not opened. It spoke by appearance and was read as an emblem: “I am for the sultan of Egypt and not for you. I am sovereign. Let my men pass!” Only after reaching the sultan was the letter opened, thereby unlocking its full potential and enabling its originator to speak before the addressee. It was a strong letter and fulfilled its task without human intervention, as it seems. In those diplomatic encounters, it was the letter that did the job.

41

Al-Ahwānī, Sifāra siyāsiyya 101.

228

figure 4.1 P.Vind.Arab. III 5 = A.Ch. 18877 (verso) Courtesy Österreichische Nationalbibliothek

reinfandt

strong letters at the mamluk court

figure 4.2 P.Vind.Arab. II 19 = A.Ch. 1587 (verso) Courtesy Österreichische Nationalbibliothek

229

230

figure 4.3 P.Vind.Arab. III 2 = A.Ch. 10219 (verso) Courtesy Österreichische Nationalbibliothek

reinfandt

strong letters at the mamluk court

figure 4.4 P.Vind.Arab. III 10 = A.Ch. 25002 B (verso) Courtesy Österreichische Nationalbibliothek

231

232

figure 4.5 P.Vind.Arab. III 12 = A.Ch. 18988 (verso) Courtesy Österreichische Nationalbibliothek

reinfandt

strong letters at the mamluk court

figure 4.6 P.Vind. Arab. III 48 = A. Ch. 7328 (recto) Courtesy Österreichische Nationalbibliothek

233

234

figure 4.7 P.Vind. Arab. III 48 = A. Ch. 7328 (verso) Courtesy Österreichische Nationalbibliothek

reinfandt

strong letters at the mamluk court

235

Bibliography Primary Sources Ibn al-Ṣayrafī, al-Qānūn fī dīwān al-rasāʾil wa-l-Ishāra ilā man nāla l-wizāra, ed. A.F. Sayyid, Cairo 1990. al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā fī ṣināʿat al-inshāʾ, ed. M.ʿA. al-R. Ibrāhīm, 14 vols., Cairo 1913–9, 21963.

Secondary Sources al-Ahwānī, ʿA. al-ʿA., Sifāra siyāsiyya min Gharnāṭa ilā l-Qāhira fī l-qarn al-tāsiʿ al-hijrī (sanat 844), in Majallat Kulliyyat al-Ādāb—Jāmiʿat al-Qāhira 16 (1954), 95–119. Bauden, F., Les Relations diplomatiques entre les sultans mamlouks circassiens et les autres pouvoirs du Dār al-islām: l’apport du ms. Ar. 4440 (BNF, Paris), in AI 41 (2007), 1–29. Bauden, F., Mamluk era documentary studies: The state of the art, in MSR 9 (2005), 15– 60. Behrens-Abouseif, D., Practising diplomacy in the Mamluk sultanate: Gifts and material culture in the medieval Islamic world, London 2014. Björkman, W., Beiträge zur Geschichte der Staatskanzlei im islamischen Ägypten, Hamburg 1928. Bosworth, C.E., Administrative literature, in M.J.L. Young et al. (eds.), Religion, learning and science in the ʿAbbāsid period, Cambridge 1990, 155–67. Bosworth, C.E., Christian and Jewish religious dignitaries in Mamlûk Egypt and Syria: Qalqas̲h̲andî’s information on their hierarchy, titulature, and appointment, in IJMES 3 (1972), 59–74; 199–216. Reprinted in Bosworth, Medieval Arabic culture and administration, London 1982. Bosworth, C.E., al-Ḳalḳas̲h̲andī, in EI2, iv, 509–11. Bosworth, C.E., Some historical gleanings from the section on symbolic actions in Qalqašandī’s Ṣubḥ al-aʿšā, in Arabica 10 (1963), 148–53. Broadbridge, A.F., Diplomatic conventions in the Mamluk sultanate, in AI 41 (2007), 97–118. Brett, M., Lingua franca in the Mediterranean: John Wansbrough and the historiography of Mediaeval Egypt, in H. Kennedy (ed.), The historiography of Islamic Egypt, c. 950–1800, Leiden and Boston 2001, 1–11. Crossman, R. (ed.), The God that failed, New York 1949. Diem, W., Arabische amtliche Briefe des 10. bis 16. Jahrhunderts aus der Österreichischen Nationalbibliothek in Wien, 2 vols., Wiesbaden 1996. Diem, W., Ein mamlūkischer Brief aus der Sammlung des University Museum in Philadelphia, in Le Muséon 99 (1986), 131–43. Dozy, R.P.A., Supplément aux dictionnaires arabes, 2 vols., Leiden 1877 (rep. Beirut 1991).

236

reinfandt

El-Leithy, T., Living documents, dying archives: Towards a historical anthropology of medieval Arabic archives, in Al-Qanṭara 32 (2011), 389–434. Favereau, M., Comment le sultan mamlouk s’adressait au khan de la Horde d’Or: formulaire des lettres et règles d’usage d’après trois manuels de chancellerie (1262– v. 1430), in AI 41 (2007), 59–95. Gallop, A.T., Elevatio in Malay Diplomatics, in AI 41 (2007), 41–57. Goitein, Sh.D., A Mediterranean society: The Jewish communities of the world as portrayed in the documents of the Cairo Geniza, vol. 5: The individual, Berkeley 1988. Grob, E.M., Documentary Arabic private and business letters on papyrus: Form and function, content and context, Berlin and New York 2010. Gully, A., The culture of letter-writing in pre-modern Islamic society, Edinburgh 2008. Hachmeier, K., Die Entwicklung der Epistolographie vom frühen Islam bis zum 4./10. Jahrhundert, in JAL 33 (2002), 131–55. Hartmann, R., Politische Geographie des Mamlukenreichs: Kapitel 5 und 6 des Staatshandbuchs Ibn Faḍlallāh al-ʿOmarī’s eingeleitet, übersetzt und mit Anmerkungen versehen, in ZDMG 70 (1916), 1–40; 477–511. Khan, G., The historical development of the structure of medieval Arabic petitions, in BSOAS 53 (1990), 8–30. Lammens, H., Correspondances diplomatiques entre les Sultans Mamlouks d’Égypte et les puissances chrétiennes, in ROC 9 (1904), 151–87; 359–92. Lammens, H., Relations officielles entre la cour romaine et les Sultans Mamlouks d’Égypte, in ROC 8 (1903), 101–10. Lane, E.W., An Arabic-English Lexicon, 8 vols., London 1874–93. Reprint Beirut 1980. Latham, J.D., The beginnings of Arabic prose literature: The epistolary genre, in A.F.L. Beeston et al. (eds.), Arabic literature to the end of the Umayyad period, Cambridge 1983, 154–79. Popper, W., Egypt and Syria under the Circassian sultans, 1382–1468A.D.: Systematic notes to Ibn Taghrî Birdî’s chronicles of Egypt, Berkeley and Los Angeles 1955. Roemer, H.R., Ins̲h̲āʾ, in EI2, iii, 1241–4. Schumacher, H., Die Kommunistische Internationale (1919–1943), Berlin 1979. Stern, S.M., Fāṭimid decrees: Original documents from the Fatimid chancery, London 1964. Van Berkel, M., The attitude towards knowledge in Mamluk Egypt: Organisation and structure of the Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā by al-Qalqashandī (1355–1418), in P. Binkley (ed.), PreModern encyclopaedic texts: Proceedings of the second COMERS congress, Groningen, 1–4 July 1996, Leiden and New York 1997, 159–68. Veselý, R., Die Hauptprobleme der Diplomatik arabischer Privaturkunden aus dem spätmittelalterlichen Ägypten, in AO 40 (1972), 312–43. Veselý, R., Die inšāʾ-Literatur, in W. Fischer (ed.), Grundriß der Arabischen Philologie, vol. 3: Supplement, Wiesbaden 1992, 188–208.

strong letters at the mamluk court

237

Veselý, R., Die richterlichen Beglaubigungsmittel: Ein Beitrag zur Diplomatik arabischer Gerichtsurkunden, in OP 8 (1971), 7–23; 10 (1977), 99–122. Veselý, R., Die richterlichen Beglaubigungsmittel: Ein Beitrag zur Diplomatik arabischer Gerichtsurkunden: 3. ʾImḍāʾ, in U. Marzolph (ed.), Orientalistische Studien zu Sprache und Literatur. Festgabe zum 65. Geburtstag von Werner Diem, Wiesbaden 2011, 251–61. Veselý, R., Zur arabischen Kanzleiliteratur, in M. Fleischhammer (ed.), Arabische Sprache und Literatur im Wandel: Kongress und Tagungsberichte der M. Luther Universität, Halle 1979, 239–44. Wansbrough, J., Lingua franca in the Mediterranean, Richmond, Surrey 1996. Weber, M., Economy and society: An outline of interpretive sociology, ed. G. Roth and Cl. Wittich, 2 vols., Berkeley and London 1978. Weber, M., Wirtschaft und Gesellschaft: Grundriß der verstehenden Soziologie, ed. J. Winckelmann. Tübingen 1980.

chapter 5

Embassies and Ambassadors in Mamluk Cairo Yehoshua Frenkel

1

Introduction: Cairo as a Hub

The Mamluk sultanate was the principal power in the eastern Mediterranean for a quarter of a millennium. This unique and sophisticated political-military regime was not an isolated island in an ocean of infidels and enemies. The geopolitical position of Egypt and Syria defined the sultanate’s participation in the medieval “world system.”1 Commercial and diplomatic networks connected Cairo with neighboring and remote governments. The control of Islam’s holy cities2 strengthened the cultural communications of the sultanate with Muslims from lands far beyond the eastern Mediterranean.3 This political reality exposed the Mamluks to developments in near and remote regions.4 Cairo, the capital city of the Mamluk sultanate (dawla),5 was a great consumer center whose very survival depended heavily on overseas trade and on good relations with close and remote lands.6 To supply local markets and in response to private and public demands, Cairo developed into an entrepôt of networks of sophisticated intercontinental trade. It is no wonder the Mamluks demonstrated a keen interest in lands beyond the frontiers of their abode.7 The sultans observed even slight changes in border lands and in far-off countries,8

1 Humphreys, Egypt in the world system 452–4, 459–61. 2 Ibn al-Ḥimṣī, Ḥawādith al-zamān i, 226 (sulṭān al-ḥaramayn). 3 It is clear from contemporary chronicles and from biographies of Muslim ʿulamāʾ and Sufis. Al-Sakhāwī, al-Tibr al-masbūk i, 181–3 (847/1447 biography of Abū Bakr al-Kakhtawī; quotes al-ʿAynī, ʿIqd al-jumān). 4 Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iii, 78 (877/1472: wa-qad intahakat ḥurmat sulṭān Miṣr ʿinda mulūk al-sharq wa-ghayrihā ḥattā l-fallāḥīn ṭamaʿū fī l-Turk wa-tabahdalū ʿindahum bi-sabab mā jarā ʿalayhim min Suwār wa-kādat an takhruj al-mamlaka min al-Jarākisa). 5 Al-Jazarī, Taʾrīkh i, 153. 6 Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 16–26. 7 On Mamluk embassies (728–38/1328–38) to Dasht-i Qipchaq (Cumans), see al-Fākhirī, Taʾrīkh 437–8. 8 Thus for example, reports from Cairo indicate that during the Venetian-Genoese war (753/ Summer 1352) vital commodities did not reach the sultanate. ʿAbd al-Bāsiṭ, Nayl al-amal i, 230–1; military failures projected badly on the stability of the regime.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2019 | doi:10.1163/9789004384637_006

embassies and ambassadors in mamluk cairo

239

and negotiated with neighboring and remote forces.9 For this purpose they constructed institutions that dealt with long-distance communication and commerce.10 Their administration maintained a complex network of emissaries and informants and attracted a great variety of visitors.11 Official emissaries and private merchants12 who traveled across seas and continents informed the citadel about events and affairs in North Africa, Spain,13 Yemen,14 India,15 Central Asia,16 Asia Minor,17 and the Black Sea region.18 Contemporary sources supply ample examples of the arrival in Cairo and Damascus of reports on events in areas across the sultanate’s frontiers.19 A case in point is the following story from Damascus: The transmitters of the data (nāqilūn) disagreed about the clashes’ results. Conflicting reports [spread around]. In those days the Franks wrote from the sea to their brothers in Syria that the Ottomans were defeated [by Tīmūr], some even said that the Ottoman leader had been captured. Yet they [the Franks] were accused [by the people of Damascus] of spreading false rumors in order to gain low prices. After several days, news, which traveled over land, reached Damascus and confirmed the information [coming from the sea]. Yet no tangible information is at hand.20

9 10 11 12 13 14 15

16 17 18

19

20

Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iv, 182–3. The study of Mamluk inshāʾ is beyond the limits of the present article. For a comparative summary, see Melvin-Koushki, The delicate art 197–210. Ibn Ṭūlūn, Mufākahat al-khillān i, 10–1, 16, 18 (885/1480). Al-Jazarī, Taʾrīkh i, 184, 214. Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr ii, 403 (867/1462), 424–5, 430–1; iii, 83 (877/1473). Ibid. ii, 426; Ibn Ḥijjī, Taʾrīkh 943 (813/1410). Ibn Ḥijjī, Taʾrīkh 875 (812/1409). An Indian ambassador arrived at Cairo carrying gifts to Sultan Qāytbāy and to the caliph. His aim was to acquire a patent for his master Ghiyāth al-Dīn, the ruler of India. See Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iii, 65 (876/November 1471). Ibid. iii, 32, 72. Ibid. ii, 388 (865/1461), 426, 429, 433–7, 449–51, 463; iii, 24. Circassian Mamluks communicated with people in their native lands. Family members joined brothers and sisters who made their careers in Cairo. The sister of Qāytbāy is an example. Ibid. iii, 82. On this, see Broadbridge, Sending home. Diplomatic reports are a must, although we should assume that in some cases visitors were observed with suspicion. Quoting the Quranic verse (al-Naml, 27:35): “I am going to sent them a present and expect with what the messengers will return,” a North African faqīh put it straightforwardly “rusul al-hadiyya ʿuyūn.” Al-Maghīlī, Tāj al-dīn 32. Several days later, the governor of Tripoli wrote to Damascus to report that Tīmūr had captured the Ottoman sultan and was besieging his headquarters in Bursa. Yet even this information, factually true, was invalidated by false rumors. Ibn Ḥijjī, Taʾrīkh 560, 563, 565, 579 (805/1402).

240

frenkel

The communication with foes and partners, the ceremonial arrivals and departures of ambassadors (qāṣid, pl. quṣṣād) were sophisticated and elaborate procedures. Embassies and diplomatic delegations,21 émigrés,22 pilgrims and visitors23 from various quarters in Asia, Africa, and southern Europe called at the citadel on the hill (Qalʿat al-Jabal).24 This illuminates the role of Cairo in the global arena, from Baybars’ days till the years of Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī. The ninth/fifteenth century witnessed the intensification of war and diplomacy in the Mediterranean, Western Asia, and in the Indian Ocean; it also saw the emergence of new competitors in the diplomatic game. Mamluk Cairo was a central participant in it. They contended, negotiated, and cooperated with several African, (south-)European, and Asian forces. The sultans communicated with Anatolia, Cyprus, Catalonia, Venice, Genoa, and Ethiopia.25 The citadel received reports about events in North Africa and Muslim Spain,26 Yemen,27 and Central Asia,28 as well as on clashes involving the Qara Qoyunlu and Aq Qoyunlu,29 Dhulqadirids,30 and the Ottomans.31 Mamluk sailors and soldiers were engaged in war in the eastern Mediterranean,32 in raids against Cyprus and Rhodes, and in anti-corsair naval operations.33 The ambassadors’ entrances, the welcoming processions, the ceremonial receptions, and the farewell parades were followed closely by several contemporary observers who were familiar with the vast network of communications

21 22 23 24

25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33

An account of the trading and political partners of the sultanate is beyond the limits of the present study. Qāytbāy, for example, gave shelter to an Ottoman prince. Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iii, 7. Ibid. iii, 83. While researching this study I was not aware of John Watkins, Toward a new diplomatic history of medieval and early modern Europe, in the Journal of Medieval and Early Modern Studies 38/1 (2008), 1–14. I would like to thank the second anonymous reviewer and the editors for alerting me to this work. Unfortunately, it was too late to insert significant changes to this contribution. See also Tracey A. Sowerby, Early modern diplomatic history, in History Compass 14/9 (2016), 441–56. Al-Sakhāwī, al-Tibr al-masbūk i, 164 ff. (847/November 1443). Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr ii, 403 (867/1463), 424 (869/1465), 425, 430–1. Ibid. ii, 426. Ibid. iii, 32. Ibid. ii, 388 (865/1461), 426, 429, 430, 433; iii, 24, 52 (875/1470). Ibid. ii, 434–7, 449–51, 463 (the death of Jahāngīr); Ibn al-Ṣayrafī, Inbāʾ al-haṣr 162. An Ottoman emissary (qāṣid) informed Qāytbāy in 875/1470 that his lord had conquered Venetian strongholds. Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iii, 52 (875/1470). Īnāl ordered a flotilla be built, and it sailed to fight the corsairs (Bilād al-Firanj). Ibn Iyās, Jawāhir al-sulūk 336 (859/1455). This led to prisoner exchanges between the sultanate and the “Franks.” Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr ii, 425; Frenkel, Jihād.

embassies and ambassadors in mamluk cairo

241

that connected their city with nearby lands and remote continents.34 These eyewitnesses describe scenes of the arrival of foreign delegations from various directions:35 Qaramanids,36 Qara Qoyunlu (860/1456),37 the Ottomans,38 Ethiopia,39 and India.40 A case in point is Ibn Iyās’s (d. 930/1524) account of the arrival of the Ottoman prince Cem. The historian wrote a couple of verses to commemorate the event praising Qāytbāy, “the great lion, to whose drinking trough lions of the desert come.”41 Cem was received by the sultan, who hesitated to demonstrate enthusiasm (he remained seated as the guest entered).42 Nonetheless, the Ottoman prince was a guest of honor at a circumcision festival.43 The burning of oil lamps turned the dark night into day. The light was so intense that “it was possible to thread a needle.”44 It had to impress the guest.45 As this last example demonstrates, the contemporary sources are rich with details that cast light on diplomatic procedures, communications, and maneuvers; subjects that will not be addressed in the present paper, nor do I address questions of diplomatics, diplomacy, and the results of embassies’ negotia-

34

35

36 37 38

39 40 41 42 43 44 45

The private family history of the historian al-Biqāʿī, who was exiled to India in 857/1453, casts light on this social reality. His account incorporates ego-documents with historical reports. He obtained at least three concubines: an Ethiopian, an Indian, and an east African (zanjiyya). See Guo, Al-Biqāʿī’s chronicle 123; Guo, Tales 109. Al-Maqrīzī (d. 845/1442) wrote a book about Ethiopia and some notes of his deal with black Africa (Sudan). Al-Maqrīzī says that he was motivated to write his book on Islam in Ethiopia because he met with Ethiopian Muslims while staying in Mecca (839/1435). Al-Maqrīzī, Macrizi historia 1–2 (al-Ilmām, 231); Lange, Un texte de Maqrīzī 191, 195; Hamaker, Specimen 205 (al-Khabar ʿan ajnās al-Sūdān). The most notorious were al-Ashraf Barsbāy (r. 825–41/1422–38), al-Ẓāhir Jaqmaq (r. 842– 57/1438–53), al-Ashraf Īnāl (r. 857–65/1453–61), al-Ẓāhir Khushqadam (r. 865–72/1461–7), and al-Ashraf Qāytbāy (r. 872–901/1468–96). We append to this list of names the Sultan al-Ashraf Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī (906–22/1501–16). Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr ii, 346 (862/1458); Ibn al-Ṣayrafī, Inbāʾ al-haṣr 69 (873/June 1469). Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr ii, 296, 298 (Jaqmaq, 856/1452), 427 (869/1464); al-Biqāʿī, Iẓhār al-ʿaṣr ii, 200, 226, 229 (860–61/1456), 318 (861/1457). Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr ii, 334; iii, 98 (879/October 1474); Ibn Taghrī Birdī, Ḥawādith alduhūr ii, 574–85, 589 (on a merchant [khawāja] named Ibn al-Qābūnī who visited Cairo in 860/April 1456). He cites the Ottoman’s letter and the Mamluk’s response. Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr ii, 296 (856/1452, Jaqmaq); iii, 178–80 (Qāytbāy in 886/March 1481). Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr ii, 388. Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iii, 183 (886/August 1481), 185. Ibid. iii, 185. Ibid. iii, 186–7. Ibid. iii, 186. Ibid.; cf. Holt, The Īlkhān Aḥmad’s embassies.

242

frenkel

tions.46 Rather, this study is confined to in-depth analysis of royal receptions that the Mamluk court organized. These thick descriptions of “arrival scenes”47 enable thorough research into the function of court ceremonies.

2

Accounts of Embassies

It was already stated that ambassadors (quṣṣād or rusul)48 reached Cairo from various directions. Those who traveled via Damascus, Palestine, and Sinai rode on animals’ backs; those who sailed across the Mediterranean landed at one of Egypt’s ports, mostly in Alexandria, and made their way along the Nile to Cairo. A few arrived from the south by sailing down the Nile.49 When dealing with embassies that called at their court the Mamluks staged shows of pageantry, in line with the political needs of the sultanate.50 The historical accounts provide rich information on the elaborate Mamluk court etiquette and on the investments by the Mamluk elite that created an environment that would project power and wealth. Indeed, the ambassadors’ reception ceremonies were a complex staging.51 The hosts made great efforts to orchestrate events that would amaze the ambassadors and impress the local audience.52 Their primary priority was to astonish and they went to considerable effort to achieve this goal (kāna yawm mashhūd). The ceremonial entrance 46

47 48 49

50 51

52

The centrality of the sultan’s court, its function as the heart of the governing apparatus and its status explain historians’ growing interest in it. They investigate the court as a central component in Mamluk political history. Influenced by anthropology, some scholars look closely at court ceremonies and rituals and on symbolic aspects of rulership. Pratt, Fieldwork 35–7. Ibn Furāt, Taʾrīkh ix/1, 24; Ibn al-Ṣayrafī, Inbāʾ al-haṣr iv, 198–9. Traveling on these roads could be dangerous. Tāj al-Dīn b. Abī Shākir, for example, was caught by Frankish corsairs while on his way back from a mission at the Ottoman court (799/1397). A Christian from Shawbak paid them and ransomed him. Ibn Furāt, Taʾrīkh ix/2, 466. While the sultan was engaged in hunting, foreign missions were received in the royal tent (dihlīz). Al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxxii, 3 (701/1301–2). Mamluk scholars were familiar with the Arabic version of al-Ghazālī’s Nasīḥa. This book contains a story that emphasizes the merits of modesty. It narrates that: “The Byzantine emperor sent an emissary to observe what a sort of a man ʿUmar [b. al-Khaṭṭāb] was and what sort of life he led. He went to the city’s gate and saw ʿUmar sleeping on the ground in the burning sun with a whip placed beneath and so much sweat flowing from his brow that the ground became moist.” Al-Ghazālī, al-Tibr al-masbūk 18; trans., 18. Ibn al-Ṣayrafī, Inbāʾ al-haṣr iv, 198–9; Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iv, 220–1; Ibn al-Ḥimṣī, Ḥawādith al-zamān i, 225 (896/Summer 1491: wa-arāhu min funūn al-ḥarb mā lā raʾāhu qaṭṭu).

embassies and ambassadors in mamluk cairo

243

was staged to convey a sense of detachment from the routine of everyday.53 The visitors were supposed to imagine that they were leaving behind common practices, and through a ceremonial scene of pageantry, they were entering moments of aggrandizement.54 The production of these events was assigned to the mihmandār, who was in charge of emissaries and ambassadors sent by foreign kings. These events were designed to guard the prestige of Islam, to astonish the emissaries, and to amaze them by making them believe in the power of the Muslims and their determination, potential belligerence, unity, resolution to protect the abode of Islam and to repel danger that threatens the sacred things of the Muslim community, and to protect order. It is appropriate to highlight that the sultan and his entourage organized pageantry and welcoming receptions for foreign missions, to demonstrate their power and to display robes, numerous army battalions, and their readiness to accomplish the duties of Islam.55 To strengthen these effects, pyrotechnic displays were put on during reception ceremonies. Data on Mamluk urban noise is not meager.56 On various occasions the chronicles inform of the playing of drums and horns ( fa-ḍuribat wa-duqqat al-bashāʾir wa-nūdiya bi-l-zīna).57 The music was orchestrated to astonish the visitors. Employing petroleum pitch (bitumen, nafṭ) and saltpeter gunpowder (bārūd), the Mamluks set up fireworks and demonstrated their pyrotechnic skills. These events aimed to astound the embassies.58 Following Suwār’s defeat on the battlefield in Anatolia, he was captured and brought to Egypt (877/1472). In his report on the entrance of the army column and the prisoners to Cairo, a contemporary historian stated:

53 54 55 56 57 58

Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iii, 63; iv 168, 218–20. Cf. El-Cheikh, Servants at the gate 239–40 (al-Muqtadir in Baghdad in 305/917). Al-Subkī, Muʿīd al-niʿam 45–6; Abū Ḥāmid al-Qudsī, Badhl al-naṣāʾih 178–9; Stowasser, Manners and customs 15. Lane-Poole, History of Egypt 248, 291–2, 294, 299, 301; Stowasser, Manners and customs 19; Eychenne, La Nuit. Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iii, 137–8 (882/December 1477). Cf. al-Jazarī, Taʾrīkh i, 46; Ibn alFurāt, Taʾrīkh ix/1, 83, 87–8. This was certainly the aim of the royal entry. To commemorate the victorious return of Qāytbāy, the Cairene poet Badr al-Dīn Muḥammad al-Zaytūnī compares, in a long poem, the royal entrance to a wedding: “Our city became the king’s bride / what a marvel it is when the ruler is the groom … During the day of his entrance (dukhūl) the kettledrums played / in pageantry. No procession equaled his royal entrance.” Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iii, 141 (882/January 1478). The poet plays on the double meaning of the noun that has a sexual tone: consummation of marriage and entrance.

244

frenkel

The sultan ordered that the city be decorated. Cairo was ornamented superbly and trembled in anticipation … The crowd gathered. To enjoy the spectacle people stood upon the shops’ roofs. Singers, men and women, met the prisoners at Cairo’s gate and followed them to the steps of the citadel. There, at the gate, great kettledrums (kūsāt) rumbled. On the shops, sets of drums (ṭabl) and trumpets played. It was an unforgettable scene.59 That festive reception indeed impressed the audience, and even foreign ambassadors were astonished by the spectacle, as is attested by the chronicles.60 Another case in point is the account of Qāytbāy’s ceremonial entrance to Cairo after performing the duty of pilgrimage to Mecca.61 Equestrian games and fireworks were performed. A cannon (bārūd: saltpeter gunpowder)62 shot at model castles, ships, and figurines of elephants.63 Often, the first meeting of the embassies with the sultans’ representatives took place far from Cairo. Those who came from the north were met in Khānqāh, a town north of Cairo not far from Siryāqūs. Reporting on the arrival of a Mongol delegation from the Black Sea Steppes (dasht-i qibjāq/qifjāq) the chronicles mention that senior commanders heading army battalions welcomed the guests and accompanied them in a vibrant procession to Cairo. In 758/July 1357 the embassy brought gifts to the sultan: slaves, furs, hunting birds, and additional items.64 Another example of this ceremonial tradition appears in an account by Ibn Iyās, who lived in Cairo during the years of transition from Mamluk to Ottoman rule. He provides a detailed eyewitness account of the lavish reception of Korkud by the Sultan Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī (915/1509).65 The official reception ceremony in Cairo was divided into two stages. As I demonstrate below, this welcoming gathering at the citadel was staged as a

59 60 61 62

63 64 65

Ibid. iii, 76–7. Cf. the account of the welcome reception that the Sultan Qānṣawh gave to the Ottoman prince Korkud. Al-Tikriti, The ḥajj 132. Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iii, 162 (885/March 1480). Cf. Ibn al-Ḥimṣī, Ḥawādith al-zamān ii, 290 (a bag of bārūd); i, 322 (al-ʿabīd al-bārūdiyya, the manufacturers of gunpowder); ii, 317 (makḥala = cannon); s.v. Bārūd in EI2, i, 1059a. On Qāytbāy’s cannon in Istanbul, see Zaky, Gunpowder 52. Ibn al-Ḥimṣī, Ḥawādith al-zamān i, 269; on the uses of firearms (al-bārūd wa-l-makāḥil) to impress an ambassador who stopped in Damascus, see ibid. iii, 469 (907/May 1511). ʿAbd al-Bāsiṭ, Nayl al-amal i, 295, 313. Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iv, 152, 153–5, 157, 160, 164, 166–7, 186–7. As is common in his reports, he adds comparative notes, mentioning earlier events.

embassies and ambassadors in mamluk cairo

245

show of pageantry.66 First came the meeting at the stairway of the citadel. The ambassadors inspected a guard of honor. Troops accompanied them when they continued on their way to the inner court of the citadel. At this point, the ambassadors announced their mission, often by handing a written memorandum (muṭālaʿa).67 If the sultan was pleased, the ambassadors would be permitted an interview with him.68 An account of a meeting between the Sultan Īnāl and a Venetian ambassador illuminates this court etiquette: On Thursday, the eleventh of Dhū l-Qaʿda, a sultanic ceremonial procession (mawkib) was staged.69 This event was orchestrated due to the arrival of a Venetian ambassador, who came to meet the sultan. After the conclusion of the meeting he came out. Several clerks asked him about his mission. He responded: On my duties I can speak only privately with the sultan. Today were the greetings. It will be followed by a negotiation meeting (864/August 1460).70 The meeting with the sultan was also divided into two stages. First came the ceremonial greetings. They were followed by diplomatic negotiations. To impress foreign ambassadors, they were summoned to join the sultan and his senior commanders in military parades and inspections.71 Ibn Taghrī Birdī (813–74/1411–70) tells of the arrival of Shāh Rukh’s ambassadors in Cairo (844/1440). The historian claims that such a magnificent entry had never been seen in Cairo before. The city was most beautifully decorated, candles were burning. The people assembled to observe the guests. The delegation crossed the city. From the citadel’s gate to the palace gate (Bāb al-Qaṣr),72 a guard of honor stood and the embassy inspected the soldiers. The delegation was received by the Sultan Jaqmaq and the letter that Shāh Rukh sent was read;73 it contained greetings and congratulations on the enthronement

66 67 68

69 70 71 72 73

Behrens-Abouseif, The citadel of Cairo. Al-Sakhāwī, al-Tibr al-masbūk iv, 10 (856/1452); Ibn Taghrī Birdī, Ḥawādith al-duhūr ii, 358. The Sultan Īnāl expressed his critical opinion concerning amicable relations with the Qara Qoyunlu (860/1456); he excused them for failing to act in a diplomatic manner. Ibn Taghrī Birdī, Ḥawādith al-duhūr ii, 596–7 (860/1456); cf. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 17. Certainly on these parades the soldiers were dressed with ceremonial uniforms. Ayalon, The system of payment 53. Al-Biqāʿī, Iẓhār al-ʿaṣr iii, 150. Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iv, 118 (913/August 1507). Rabbat, The citadel of Cairo 215 ff. For more data on ambassadors and letters, see Ibn Taghrī Birdī, Ḥawādith al-duhūr ii, 591 (860/1456).

246

frenkel

of the sultan. Then the gift (hadiyya) was presented: one hundred turquoise gems, eighty-one pieces of silk, a number of clothes, furs, musk, thirty Bactrian camels, and other things.74 An Ottoman ambassador was received at the citadel (855/1451). He brought to Cairo letters from Meḥmed II (r. 848–50/1444–6, 855–86/1451–81) reporting that the Sultan Bāyazīd I (r. 791–802/1389–1403) had passed away and that he had been replaced by his son (sic) Meḥmed II. He also informed them about the Ottomans’ successful offensive in Europe and their conquests of Byzantine terrain and handed over gifts: slaves, furs, etc. The Sultan Jaqmaq (r. 842–57/1438– 53) ordered that the embassy be provided with money to buy food and drinks for men and animals.75 Following the capture of Constantinople, an Ottoman delegation arrived in Egypt (857/October 1453). Learning of it, the Sultan al-Ashraf Īnāl (r. 857– 65/1453–61) dispatched a party of high-ranking officers to Khānqāh. He instructed his men to look after the needs of the embassy. Cairo was decorated; marvelous articles and pictures (taṣwīrāt) covered the shops and oil lamps (qanādīl) lit the streets. A couple of days later, the embassy traversed Cairo and ascended to the citadel. Soldiers bearing lances lined the way. The sultan received the Ottoman embassy, who handed him a long letter and gifts: sets of textiles, each containing nine pieces; slaves and two young monks who were said to have been captured during the conquest of Hagia (Aya) Sophia.76 Al-Ashraf Qāytbāy (r. 872–901/1468–96) welcomed the ambassadors of Uzun Ḥasan (Ḥasan the Long)77 and the king of India78 in Siryāqūs (in 873/September–October 1468). There, near the great lodge of the Sufis, tents were erected. For two days the sultan met with the ambassadors and other dignitaries.79 The embassy of Uzun Ḥasan was still in Cairo when Qāytbāy returned to the citadel from a long tour of inspection. The sultan entered his capital in a display of 74 75 76

77

78 79

Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Nujūm al-zāhira xv, 99, 103, 104 [trans., v, 81]; for other receptions see Ibn Taghrī Birdī, Ḥawādith al-duhūr ii, 381, 453. Al-Biqāʿī, Iẓhār al-ʿaṣr i, 163 (Jumādā II 857/1453), 168–9, 178, 373–9. Ibid. i, 421–2, 425–36. While the Ottoman embassy was visiting Cairo, another delegation arrived. The people of Cyprus had chosen the Mamluks’ capital as the appropriate arena to negotiate the fate of their island with the Ottomans. Even during this late phase in the sultanate’s history, it still served as a meeting point and as a diplomatic center. Uzun in Turkish or al-Ṭawīl in Arabic (r. 859–82/1453–78), the ruler of the Aq Qoyunlu (White Sheep) principality in western Iran and northern Iraq. Woods, The Aq-Quyunlu clan 114. On other ambassadors that arrived in Cairo from India, see Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iii, 65 (876/November 1471). Ibid. iii, 21; cf. with the account on the reception given to the Ottoman prince Jumjuma. Ibid. iii, 185 (886/1481).

embassies and ambassadors in mamluk cairo

247

power and pomp (873/February 1469). His path was covered with silk. A highranking officer carried the parasol over his head and army commanders walked ahead of the sultan’s horse. Pieces of gold and silver were thrown on him as he advanced. Singers played in the streets. The pageantry of the royal entrance is said to have impressed the ambassador, at least according to the local historians.80 The Damascene historian Ibn al-Ḥimṣī, who happened to be at the court of Qāytbāy in Cairo (900/1495), reported his impression of a similar event: An ambassador (qāṣid) of the sultan of the East arrived at the court of our Sultan al-Malik al-Ashraf Qāytbāy in Cairo. The sultan’s mamluks lined up along the way from al-Rumayla to Bāb al-Ḥawsh, in the citadel. Companies of officers (maqarr) and chanters (munshid) were staged at every gate. The ambassador ascended in a magnificent procession. I viewed it at the citadel. It was a splendid day. The ambassador brought gifts and presents. He sent a message to the sultan declaring: I am the servant of the guardian of the holy cities [Mecca and Medina]. He was lodged at al-Raṭlī pool (the Weight Maker’s Lake).81 After several days he was received in an official banquet at the hippodrome. The sultan’s mamluks were there too. Mounted on their horses, they demonstrated their skills: standing on the saddle they shot arrows and gamboled with lances. This astonished the ambassador.82 Several weeks later (Jumādā I 900/February 1495), a second reception was held. On this occasion the sultan joined the participants.83 The ambassador Ḥaydar brought messages to Cairo from the Ottoman sultan Bāyazīd II. He was lavishly hosted. On his fourth day in Cairo the ambassador ascended to the citadel. A ceremonial guard of honor lined up from the citadel’s stairway (Bāb al-Madraj) to the hall where Sultan Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī was sitting. The ambassador presented gifts to his host: fifty slaves, thirty boxes containing small silver balls, sable fur, lynx fur, and additional items. Several days later, the sultan welcomed the ambassador at his palace. To entertain the gathering, a wrestling show was staged. The sultan presented the guest with a sallārī caftan84 made from red wool decorated with sable fur, similar to the one 80 81 82 83 84

Ibid. iii, 34. See Levanoni, Water supply 183. Behrens-Abouseif, The citadel of Cairo 51–2. Ibn al-Ḥimṣī, Ḥawādith al-zamān, i, 268–9. Dozy, Dictionnaire détaillé 209–10.

248

frenkel

he was wearing.85 The following day, a reception was set up in the hippodrome. The ambassador watched the performances of riding mamlūks. Targets (qabaq) were placed and the soldiers galloped and shot arrows. A fire-game (nafṭ) also was performed.86 On another occasion, the Sultan Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī ordered a welcoming gathering be held at the Qāʿat al-Baḥra. The hall was richly decorated and impressive quantities of dishes (asmiṭa) were spread around. In the courtyard a huge bowl (ṣaḥn firʿawn) was filled with water, sugar, and citron. As the gathering drew to an end, the sultan bestowed a superb gown on the Ottoman envoy.87 The rapprochement between the Mamluks and the Ottomans88 did not prevent Safavid envoys from arriving at the citadel of Cairo.89 The account of the arrival of a Safavid delegation in Cairo vividly demonstrates the atmosphere at the reception ceremonies. In order to astonish the guests, a spectacle was set up. A battalion of Mamluk soldiers executed military drills. Dressed in complete war gear the soldiers shot at figurative objects. An imposing pyrotechnic display was ignited. The show ended with the distribution of gifts.90 In line with protocol, army units were stationed along the way from Khānqāh to the citadel of Cairo during another Safavid visit. Officials and dignitaries dressed in ceremonial uniforms accompanied the Iranian guests. They were joined by the heads of Bedouin tribes. The ambassador presented to the sultan the head of Muḥammad Shaybānī, the Uzbek ruler of Khurasan who had been killed by the Safavids a year earlier (in December 1510). Then the emissary handed the sultan a prayer rug, a copy of the Quran, and a bow. In an effort to disprove the ambassador’s claim that the bow was an unbreakable tool, the sultan ordered him to split it. The Safavid mission was taken to its quarters without due ceremony, and exposed to anti-Shiite remarks by the citizens of Cairo.91

85 86 87 88

89 90 91

Ibn al-Ḥimṣī, Ḥawādith al-zamān ii, 430–1, 433 (908/ November–December 1502). Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iv, 46 (908/December 1502); trans. i, 42. Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iv, 119, 122 (913/September–October, 1507); trans. i, 115. And see the account of another delegation: Ibn Iyās Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iv, 201–3. The Ottomans were seen as potential allies. An Ottoman ambassador brought to Cairo the official accord permitting Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī to marry the daughter of Jim (Tk. Cem), who was the nephew of the Ottoman sultan. Ibn al-Ḥimṣī, Ḥawādith al-zamān ii, 366 (905/1509). Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iv, 122 (914/December 1507). Ibid. iv, 124 (914/January 1508); cf. the reception of the Aq Qoyunlu in 915/January 1509, ibid. iv, 145. Ibn al-Ḥimṣī, Ḥawādith al-zamān iii, 469 (907/June 1511; Qānṣawh ordered that an Islamic funeral should be conducted to bury the head); iii, 473 (the farewell ceremony); Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iv, 219, 221.

embassies and ambassadors in mamluk cairo

249

The next report illuminates the rigorous rules of ceremonial etiquette. An Ottoman ambassador arrived at the court of Khushqadam (r. 865–72/1461–7). He did not bow and refrained from kissing the ground before the sultan, who was angered by this behavior. The ambassador presumably learned about his host’s reaction, so he joined Khushqadam at the ʿĪd al-Fiṭr prayer. Returning to the sultan’s palace he kissed the ground, apologizing that he was not accustomed to the royal protocol of Egypt. This pleased the sultan, who bestowed upon the envoy a robe of honor.92 The sultan could refuse meetings with ambassadors.93 This clearly indicated political apprehension. As the tension between Qāytbāy and Uzun Ḥasan built up, the prospects of an agreement between the neighboring forces diminished. The Mamluks became suspicious of the Aq Qoyunlu’s intentions, particularly as the two parties exchanged blows along the frontiers. So when Uzun Ḥasan’s envoy asked the sultan’s permission to be received at the citadel he was met by a cold rejection “and the inside of the dispatch that the ambassador brought remained unknown.”94 Letters were not always a sign of friendship. They could provoke angry reactions. An example of this is a letter sent by Barsbāy (r. 825–41/1422–38) to Shāh Rukh (r. 807–50/1405–47). The response letter opens with a cynical didactic sentence: We read carefully the gift you have sent us (atḥaftumūnā) and learned the contents of it, despite its bent (i.e., false, muʿawwaj) wording. We understood its meaning and composition. However, we were unable to comprehend the reasons that drove you to use such a foul language and to load it with Persian words that are commonly used by apostates (al-murtadda), which results from your denial of the religious principles (aḥkām) [of Islam]. We are the righteous rulers of Islam and no one is equal to us. We act in accordance with the law and carry it out. We forbid illegal deeds and prevent them. No one can blame us for acting wrongly. The beam of Islamic law is upheld in our abode and we separate between

92

93 94

Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr ii, 420–1. The envoy could not leave without permission from the host. In the case described here, it took the sultan several days before he permitted the ambassador to return to his master. He sent with him gifts, yet contrary to previous plans he was not accompanied by a Mamluk emissary (868/May–June 1464). Cf. Ibn Ḥijjī, Taʾrīkh ii, 562 (805/1402). Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr ii, 356 (Khushqadam), ii, 359 (864/1460). Ibid. iii, 70 (876/April 1472).

250

frenkel

the sacred and the forbidden, following the model (sunna) of the Prophet Muḥammad.95 Moreover, the reception of foreign delegations was not always in accordance with the sultan’s intentions and diplomatic protocol. Two contemporary historians, Shams al-Dīn Muḥammad al-Sakhāwī (831–902/1424–97) and Ibn Taghrī Birdī, observed at close range the visit by a Timurid delegation that arrived in Cairo from Central Asia (848/1444). Jointly they provide a thick description of the welcoming ceremonies and the public reaction.96 A considerable number of delegates and retinues, about one hundred in total, accompanied the ambassador of Shāh Rukh. Among them were Qāḍī l-Milal, a famous Central Asian jurisconsult, and an old woman said to be one of the wives of Tīmūr, who remained in Damascus. The delegation brought gifts and a covering for the Kaʿba (kiswa) in nine containers, which vexed the Egyptians. It is said that the number of the arriving team was so huge that the governor of al-Sharqiyya province had to supply them with twenty-four irdabb (ca. 200kg) of barley and that he [was also] ordered to slaughter twentyseven sheep and forty chickens to feed them. The delegation was housed in the house of al-Jamālī the majordomo in the Festival Square (raḥbat al-ʿīd), between the Jamāliyya and Ḥijāziyya schools [in the Bayn al-Qaṣrayn grand boulevard]. High-ranking army officers, officials, and judges came to meet them. Several weeks later the delegation, accompanied by the welcoming party, ascended to the citadel to see the sultan, who was delighted by their arrival. [Jaqmaq] made careful plans for their coming and proclaimed that no one of the ajnād al-ḥalqa or among the sultan’s mamlūks should refrain from ascending to the citadel on this day. He made sure that the welcoming reception would take place in the ḥawsh; it had been customary to hold the reception only in the īwān of the citadel. The ambassadors went up, bringing with them the gift (taqdima) and the kiswa. The sultan [who

95

96

This letter was first published by Silvestre de Sacy, Chrestomathie arabe ii, 13 (Arabic), 71 (French translation). See Bauden, Mamluk era documentary studies 21. It is interesting to note that Ibn ʿArabshāh, who wrote his history of Tīmūr in 840/1436–7, does not mention it. On a delegation dispatched from Cairo to the court of Shāh Rukh, see Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Nujūm al-zāhira xv, 252–3 (the biography of Sayf al-Dīn Āqṭawah the mihmandār, d. 852/1448).

embassies and ambassadors in mamluk cairo

251

was troubled by the common objection, that the delegation should not be permitted to carry the kiswa to Arabia], ordered that what they brought should be taken into the Baḥra Hall, so that no one should be aware of the kiswa. He welcomed the ambassadors and treated them with great honor. The epistle (mukātaba) which they had [brought] was read; they then returned to their dwelling.97 It is clear that the sultan aspired to make an impact on the minds of the guests and to impress them by the size of his military force. But things went awry. As the gathering dissolved and the guests descended to their quarters the mob started to stone and to jeer at the embassy. The crowd followed the royal guests and continued to demonstrate its hostility and even beat up several of them. The mob plundered the ambassadors. “The people were so unrestrained in their robbery that they took even the delegation’s horses, Kirman turquoise stones, pieces of silk and velvet, musk, all kinds of furs, and other articles.” Angered by this incident, the Sultan Jaqmaq ordered several people arrested and punished, and recompensed the delegation with a large gift.98

3

Gifts

Since Marcel Mauss’s Essai sur le don it is well accepted that gifts (hadiyya, pl. hadāyā) are powerful symbols in public life and instruments that fortify social and political networks.99 Gifts are instrumental in facilitating communication between individuals and parties, strengthening mutual ties and cementing friendship.100 They were given by low-ranking officials to their superiors and by rulers to their clients.101 The religious prescription of exchanging gifts on Islamic holidays was instrumental in the development of a social ethos of giftgiving among Muslims, as the story of reward (hadiyya li) given to a midwife illuminates.102 97 98 99 100 101 102

Al-Sakhāwī, al-Tibr al-masbūk i, 215–7, who also reports on the meeting of Ibn Ḥajar with a member of the embassy. Ibid. See also Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Nujūm al-zāhira xv, 120; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, Ḥawādith alduhūr i, 109–10 [trans., v, 96–97]. For a general overview, see Sharlet, Tokens of resentment 62–100, where earlier works are mentioned. Ibn Ṭawq, al-Taʿlīq i, 33; Ibn Ḥijjī, Taʾrīkh 622. The Sultan Qāytbāy and his senior commanders and officials exchanged gifts following the safe return of the sultan from Arabia. Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iii, 164 (885/1480). Among the items given were foodstuffs, including live animals that would be butchered.

252

frenkel

Exchanges of gifts were an integral component of diplomatic practice103 and the ritual of presenting gifts were key elements.104 Complying with Mamluk diplomatic protocol, ambassadors were routinely handed gifts at welcoming receptions in Cairo.105 Often, as is demonstrated further below, the gifts had primarily symbolic value,106 however on several occasions rare and exclusive items were given. The Ottomans (i.e., Yıldırım Bāyazīd I “the Thunderbolt”) sent to al-Ẓāhir Barqūq eight Frankish prisoners, four of them said to be “kings” in East Mediterranean islands.107 Al-Malik al-Nāṣir Muḥammad b. Qalāwūn (3rd r. 709–41/ 1309–41) sent an envoy, Ibn Qaramān, who carried with him banners (sanājiq) of the caliph and the sultan and a permit to mint coins (sikka) in the sultan’s name. The parties also agreed that the names of the caliph and the sultan would be mentioned in the Friday prayer (khuṭba).108 Al-Sakhāwī’s account of the arrival in Cairo of an embassy dispatched by Murād II (r. 824–55/1421–51) illuminates the function of diplomatic gifts. The ambassador claimed that his sultan won a decisive battle (in Shawwāl 848/January 1445) and he sent items from the booty to various rulers to demonstrate his achievement, although some Egyptians questioned the very event. The mission from Asia Minor brought to Cairo sixteen imprisoned Byzantine officers, dressed in battle gear, handcuffed (zunūd) and on their head bassinet (ṭashūt) helmets; fifty slaves and five white slave-girls; textiles and silk. Al-Sakhāwī quotes al-ʿAynī and says: “by sending these gifts, the Ottoman ruler aspired to teach the Mamluk sultan and his men that the Ottomans are brave cavalry and valiant infantry.”109

103 104 105

106 107 108 109

Ibn Ṭawq, al-Taʿlīq i, 124 (887/1482; a religious leader gave fruits and vegetables to the local governor), 216 (donation of sheep), 131–2 (887/1482). On the significance of food gifts, cf. Heal, Food gifts; Watson, Mongol inhospitality. Cutler, Significant gifts 82–4. Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr iv, 43 (Ottoman embassy arrives in Cairo, 840/November 1436, bearing a gift, hadiyya). Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iii, 69 (876/1472; reports gifts given to the Sultan Qāytbāy by an Ottoman emissary, who claimed to be stopping in Cairo on his way to Mecca); iv, 55 (909/June 1503). Al-Sakhāwī, al-Tibr al-masbūk iv, 10 (The Qara Qoyunlu Turkmens sent keys of conquered towns to Cairo, 856/1452). Ibn al-Furāt, Taʾrīkh ix/2, 465–6 (799/1397). Ibn Qāḍī Shuhba, Taʾrīkh i, 129. Al-Sakhāwī, al-Tibr al-masbūk i, 218–20 (848/March 1445); Ibn Taghrī Birdī, Ḥawādith alduhūr i, 110–2; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Nujūm al-zāhira xv, 146.

embassies and ambassadors in mamluk cairo

253

An Ottoman embassy arrived in Cairo (849/1445); their political aim was to inform Cairo that Sultan Murād had been replaced by his son Meḥmed II.110 Certainly, the ambassador had more urgent matters to settle than passing information about the new ruler on the Ottoman throne. It seems sound to speculate that his major task was to ensure the continuation of friendly terms by the two Muslim capitals. The embassy presented slave-girls and handed over twentyfive boxes of gifts containing jewelry and textiles.111 A delegation from Istanbul brought to Cairo what the locals considered to be a bizarre gift: a clock decorated with moving objects and dolls.112 On the hour, these figures played musical instruments. At the end of each hour (daraja) a ball (bunduqa) fell.113 From India, a huge lion (sabʿ aẓīm al-ḥalqa) and a unique tent (khayma gharībat al-ṣifa) arrived at the Mamluk court.114 The Mamluk sultanate followed events in southeastern Anatolia closely. While the Mamluks calculated their next steps against Uzun Ḥasan, the Aq Qoyunlu (White Sheep) ruler of Diyarbakir took initial steps to defuse the tension. His mother arrived in Aleppo (870/March 1466), bearing the keys of Khartabirt (Harput Kalesi or Harput Castle).115 She was invited to Cairo and was received properly by the Sultan Khushqadam.116 Uzun Ḥasan, who aimed to win Qāytbāy’s favor, dispatched to Cairo the keys of several castles that his army had conquered. His symbolic gesture was accompanied by a communication that as an act of honor (tamalluq), he would hand all the conquered lands to Sultan Qāytbāy (873/January 1469).117 His ambassador brought to Cairo five bukhatī camels,118 two slaves, armor (zardiyya), and the keys of several fortresses in Azerbaijan.119 Qāytbāy hosted the delegation in an official reception (ḍiyāfa) and bestowed upon the ambassador a cloak ( fawqāniyya) and an embroidered coat (kāmiliyya) with sable tails. A robe of honor was given to the ambassador’s son also. In addition,

110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119

Al-Sakhāwī, al-Tibr al-masbūk i, 261; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, Ḥawādith al-duhūr i, 123, cf. ii, 453 (an Ottoman embassy in 857/1453). Cf. the account in Har-El, Struggle for domination 75–6. Cf. the organ presented by an English delegation to the Ottoman sultan in 1007/1599. Barbour, Power and distant display 348–50. Ibn Qāḍī Shuhba, Taʾrīkh ii, 483. Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iii, 99 (879/1474). For a similar gesture, see Ibn al-Ṣayrafī, Inbāʾ al-haṣr 151 (874/November 1469). Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr ii, 437. Ibn al-Ṣayrafī, Inbāʾ al-haṣr 51–2 (Rajab 873/January 1469); Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr ii, 427 (869/1465), 428; iii, 27. Bulliet, Cotton 110. Woods, The Aq-Quyunlu clan 109–10.

254

frenkel

the delegation received honoraria and gifts to carry back to their ruler.120 Several months later a pigeon carrying a letter (biṭāqa) landed in the citadel (in 873/May 1469).121 It stated that a morbid gift was on its way to Qāytbāy. Uzun Ḥasan had sent to Cairo the head of the Timurid ruler of Samarqand.122 ʿAlī Bey Dhū l-Qādir, the Turkmen ruler of southern Anatolia, forwarded to Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī a mobile wooden pavilion (khargāh),123 superbly colored and decorated, that he had received from the Safavids who had seized it from the Aq Qoyunlu. In addition he sent a tent made from silk, and slaves, horses, and camels.124 Ibn al-Ṣayrafī (d. 900/1495) expressed his reservations about a gift sent by Uzun Ḥasan to Qāytbāy, stating that it was plain (hayyina), in line with the Turkmens’ custom.125 On the importance of the gift-exchanging ceremonies we can make some deductions from reports on the rejection of gifts. Suggesting ceasefire arrangements (ṣulḥ) along the Anatolian-Syrian frontier, Shāh Suwār dispatched an ambassador to Cairo.126 He ascended to the citadel bearing a letter to the sultan. But Qāytbāy did not permit him to bring the gifts that his master had sent up the hill. The negotiations failed. Suspicions blocked any sort of agreement. Qāytbāy refrained from awarding the Dhulqadirid127 emissary royal robes of honor (khilʿa).128 This clearly signified that no accord was signed between the parties. Usually, guests were accommodated by the hosts who provided them with housing and food, including provisions for animals.129 The mihmandār was in charge of accommodating the guests who called at the sultans’ court. This officer was “responsible for receiving foreign delegations and Bedouin shaykhs that come to visit the sultan. He accommodates them in the guests’ house (dār alḍiyāfa)130 and takes care of their needs.”131 In Damascus they were lodged in

120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131

Ibn al-Ṣayrafī, Inbāʾ al-haṣr 51–2 (Rajab 873/January 1469). Cf. al-Jazarī, Taʾrīkh i, 46. Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iii, 34; al-Ṣayrafi, Inbāʾ al-haṣr 74–5; Melvin-Koushki, The delicate art 193–4. Wilber, The Timurid court 128, 130. Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iv, 252 (917/February 1512). Ibn al-Ṣayrafi, Inbāʾ al-haṣr 12 (873/1468). Har-El, Struggle for domination 89–90. On the name, see Venzke, The case of a Dulgadir-Mamluk Iqṭāʿ 400. Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iii, 44 (874/1479). Ibn Qāḍī Shuhba, Taʾrīkh iii, 61 (783/August–September 1381). It should be a considerable compound since al-Jazarī mentions the accommodation of 600 riders in 732/1332. Al-Jazarī, Taʾrīkh ii, 254. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā v, 459; cf. Ibn Taghrī Birdī, Ḥawādith al-duhūr ii, 322 (855/ 1451).

embassies and ambassadors in mamluk cairo

255

one of the madāris.132 An ambassador from North Africa was accommodated at the Ashrafiyya school.133 On several occasions it seems that the mihmandār’s duty was to isolate the guests and prevent them from encountering the local population.134

4

Epilogue

Ninth-/fifteenth-century Mamluk sources contain a considerable number of accounts of ceremonies staged at the sultans’ court, including detailed descriptions of formal procedures that took place at the citadel to welcome diplomatic delegations. These records cast light on rich spectacles that the Mamluk sultans put on to greet the guests. The accounts describe the court where the receptions were organized as a theatrical arena. They tell us that the diplomatic protocol of the sultanate was an elaborate and sophisticated set of rituals, as were the welcome ceremonies celebrated in Cairo. The diplomatic receptions of the ambassadors were in fact spectacles enjoyed by the courtiers and the urban crowd. Performances and colorful processions linked the streets of Cairo with the palace of the sultan in the citadel on the hill. The pageantry shown during the reception of foreign delegations was orchestrated to imprint in the ambassadors’ minds an impression of richness, splendor, and grandeur. The thick descriptions of urban and court ceremonies facilitate the study of communication, etiquette, and diplomatic gifts. Yet, court history is certainly not limited to the study of past ceremonies and state festivals. The accounts provide rich data on the topography of Cairo and the citadel and are important sources in reconstructing the metropolis’s past. The rich historical materials elucidate other aspects of the sultanate’s political and demographic history. They illuminate the structure of diplomatic correspondence and bring to mind questions such as the history of court ceremonies, continuation, and innovation, etc. Placed in the wider context of regional power politics, the detailed information clarifies issues such as the way the regime envisioned itself and the Mamluks’ integration into diplomatic networks and the cross-border economy. The present article did not dwell upon these issues.

132 133 134

Cf. Ibn Ḥijjī, Taʾrīkh 562 (805/1402). Al-Biqāʿī, Iẓhār al-ʿaṣr ii, 150, 169, 185 (860/1456). Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iv, 231 (917/August 1511); al-Sakhāwī, al-Tibr al-masbūk iii, 87– 8 (855/March 1451); Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Nujūm al-zāhira xv, 176–7 (Jaqmaq hosted an Aq Qoyunlu embassy at the hippodrome and ordered that the visitors be isolated).

256

frenkel

The closing decades of the Mamluk sultanate were, certainly from our perspective, the swan song of a once powerful regime rich with potent symbols of authority. The hypothesis that the court ceremonies and reception rituals were orchestrated to produce an image of puissance should not be dismissed. As the sky of the sultanate darkened with the buildup of grave challenges,135 Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī attached a growing importance to diplomatic communication with partners he assumed would support his cause.136 He received delegations from various lands137 and sent letters and ambassadors to rulers and governments. By staging shows of pageantry, the Mamluk sultans who governed Egypt and Syria during the decades analyzed here, i.e., from the days of Īnāl (857/1453) to the death of Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī (922/1516), aspired to impress potential partners and rivals. However, it seems that the sultan and his entourage were the first to be deceived by these shows. Their political behavior, their poor analyses of the changing power balance in western Asia and in the Mediterranean maritime arena, and their miscalculations of strategic changes in the world led to the Mamluk sultanate’s failure in the diplomatic game.138 The advance of Selīm I demonstrates that he was not impressed by the diplomatic ceremonies that the waning Mamluk sultanate orchestrated in the citadel of Cairo.

Bibliography Primary Sources ʿAbd al-Bāsiṭ b. Khalīl, Nayl al-amal fī dhayl al-duwal, ed. ʿU.ʿA. al-S. Tadmurī, Sidon and Beirut 2002. Abū Ḥāmid al-Qudsī, Badhl al-naṣāʾih al-sharʿiyya fīmā ʿalā l-sulṭān wa-wulāt al-umūr wa-sāʾir al-raʿiyya, ed. S. b. Ṭ. b. M. al-Shamrī, 2 vols., MA thesis, Riyadh 1998. al-Biqāʿī, Iẓhār al-ʿaṣr li-asrār ahl al-ʿaṣr: Taʾrīkh al-Biqāʿī, ed. M.S. b. Sh. al-ʿAwfī, 3 vols., Cairo 1992–3. al-Fākhirī, Taʾrīkh al-Fākhirī, ed. ʿU.ʿA. al-S. Tadmurī, Sidon and Beirut 2010. al-Ghazālī, al-Tibr al-masbūk fī naṣīḥat al-mulūk, ed. A. Shams al-Dīn, Beirut 1998; trans. F.R.C. Bagley, Ghazālī’s book of counsel for kings (Naṣīḥat al-Mulūk), London 1964.

135 136 137 138

Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iv, 143 (914/January 1509), 145, 191, 205, 227–8. The historian compares contemporary events with historical cases such as the advance of Tīmūr and Hülegü. Ibid. iv, 118–9, 121–2 (913/September–October 1507), 143 (914/December 1508), 152 (915/May 1509), 201 [trans., ii, 60]. Ibid. iv, 234 (an envoy from Georgia in 917/1511), 255 (French emissaries in 918/March 1512). Winter, The Ottoman occupation 492–8.

embassies and ambassadors in mamluk cairo

257

Ibn al-Furāt, Taʾrīkh Ibn al-Furāt, ed. Q. Zurayq, vol. 7 (767–782AH), Beirut 1936; vol. 9 (789–799AH), Beirut 1942. Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr bi-abnāʾ al-ʿumr, ed. Ḥ. Ḥabashī, 4 vols., Cairo 1994–8. Ibn Ḥijjī, Taʾrīkh Ibn Ḥijjī: ḥawādith wa-wafayāt 796–815 h., ed. A.Y.ʿA.A. al-Kandarī, 2 vols., Beirut 2003. Ibn al-Ḥimṣī, Ḥawādith al-zamān wa-wafayāt al-shuyūkh wa-l-aqrān, ed. ʿU.ʿA. al-S. Tadmurī, 3 vols., Beirut 1999. Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr fī waqāʾiʿ al-duhūr, ed. M. Muṣṭafā, 6 vols., Cairo 1960–75, 22008; trans. G. Wiet, in Journal d’un bourgeois du Caire: chronique d’Ibn Iyās, 2 vols., Paris 1955–60. Ibn Iyās, Jawāhir al-sulūk fī amr al-khulafāʾ wa-l-mulūk, ed. M.Z.M. ʿAzab, Cairo 2006. Ibn Qāḍī Shuhba, Taʾrīkh, ed. ʿA. Darwīsh, 4 vols., Damascus 1977–97. Ibn al-Ṣayrafī, Inbāʾ al-haṣr bi-anbāʾ al-ʿaṣr, ed. Ḥ. Ḥabashī, Cairo 1970, 22002. Ibn Taghrī Birdī, Ḥawādith al-duhūr fī maḍā l-ayyām wa-l-shuhūr, ed. M.K. al-D. ʿIzz al-Dīn, 2 vols., Beirut 1990; trans. W. Popper, History of Egypt (845–854 A.H., A.D.1441– 1450): An extract from Abû l-Maḥâsin ibn Taghrî Birdî’s chronicle entitled Ḥawâdith ad-duhûr fî maḍâ l-ayyâm wa-ash-shuhûr, New Haven 1967. Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Nujūm al-zāhira fī mulūk Miṣr wa-l-Qāhira, ed. M.Ḥ. Shams al-Dīn, 16 vols., Beirut 1992; trans. W. Popper, History of Egypt, 1382–1469A.D. Translated from the Arabic annals of Abû l-Maḥâsin ibn Taghrî Birdî, 8 vols., Berkeley 1954–63. Ibn Ṭawq, al-Taʿlīq: Yawmiyyāt Shihāb al-Dīn Aḥmad Ibn Ṭawq. Mudhakkirāt kutibat bi-Dimashq fī awākhir al-ʿahd al-mamlūkī 885–908/1480–1502 [La Vie quotidienne à Damas à la fin de l’époque mamelouke], ed. J. al-Muhājir, 4 vols., Damascus 2000–7. Ibn Ṭūlūn, Mufakahat al-khillān fī ḥawādith al-zamān, ed. Kh. al-Manṣūr, Beirut 1998. al-Jazarī, Taʾrīkh Ibn al-Jazarī l-musammā Ḥawādith al-zamān wa-anbāʾihi wa-wafayāt al-akābir wa-l-aʿyān min abnāʾihi l-maʿrūf bi-Taʾrīkh Ibn al-Jazarī, ed. ʿU.ʿA. al-S. Tadmurī, 3 vols., Sidon and Beirut 1998. al-Maghīlī, Tāj al-dīn fīmā yajibu ʿalā l-mulūk wa-l-salāṭīn, Beirut 1994. al-Maqrīzī, Kitāb al-Ilmām bi-akhbār man bi-arḍ al-Ḥubsh min mulūk al-islām, ed. F.Th. Rinck, under the title Macrizi historia regum islamiticorum in Abyssinia, Leiden 1790; ed. R. al-Badrī and A.M. Qāsim, in Rasāʾil al-Maqrīzī, Cairo 1998. al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab fī funūn al-adab, 33 vols., Cairo 1923–92, 22004. al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā fī ṣināʿat al-inshāʾ, ed. M.ʿA. al-R. Ibrāhīm, 14 vols., Cairo 1913–9, 21963. al-Sakhāwī, al-Tibr al-masbūk fī dhayl al-sulūk, ed. N.M. Kāmil and L.I. Muṣṭafā, 4 vols., Cairo 2002–7. al-Subkī, Muʿīd al-niʿam wa-mubīd al-niqam [The restorer of favors and the restrainer of chastisements], ed. D.W. Myhrman, London 1908.

258

frenkel

Secondary Sources Ayalon, D., The system of payment in Mamluk military society, in JESHO 1 (1958), 37–65, 257–96. Barbour, R., Power and distant display: Early English ‘ambassadors’ in Moghul India, in Huntington Library Quarterly 61 (1998), 343–68. Bauden, F., Mamluk era documentary studies: The state of the art, in MSR 9/1 (2005), 15–60. Behrens-Abouseif, D., The citadel of Cairo, in AI 24 (1998), 25–79. Broadbridge, A.F., Kingship and ideology in the Islamic and Mongol worlds, Cambridge 2008. Broadbridge, A.F., Sending home for mom and dad: The extended family impulse in Mamluk politics, in MSR 15 (2011), 1–18. Bulliet, R.W., Cotton, climate, and camels in early Islamic Iran: A moment in world history, Columbia 2011. Cutler, A., Significant gifts: Patterns of exchange in late antique, Byzantine, and Early Islamic diplomacy, in Journal of Medieval and Early Modern Studies 38/1 (2008), 79– 103. de Sacy, Silvestre, Chrestomathie arabe, ou extraits de divers écrivains arabes, tant en prose qu’en vers, avec une traduction française et des notes, 2 vols., Paris 1826–7. Dozy, R.P.A., Dictionnaire détaillé des noms de vêtements chez les Arabes, Amsterdam 1845. El-Cheikh, N.M., Servants at the gate: Eunuchs at the court of al-Muqtadir, in JESHO 48 (2005), 234–52. Eychenne, M., La Nuit mamelouke: Contribution à l’histoire du quotidien au Caire et à Damas à la fin du Moyen Âge, in REMMM 136 (2014), 135–62. Frenkel, Y., Jihād in the medieval Mediterranean Sea: Naval war and religious endowment under the Mamluks, in St. Leder (ed.), Crossroads between Latin Europe and the Near East: Corollaries of the Frankish presence in the eastern Mediterranean (12th–14th centuries), Würzburg 2011, 103–25. Guo, L., al-Biqāʿī’s Chronicle: A fifteenth century learned man’s reflection on his time and world, in H. Kennedy (ed.), Historiography of Islamic Egypt, Leiden 2000, 121–48. Guo, L., Tales of a medieval Cairene harem: Domestic life in al-Biqāʿī’s autobiographical chronicle, in MSR 9 2005, 101–21. Hamaker, H.A., Specimen catalogi codicum mss. orientalium bibliothecæ Academiæ Lugduno-Batavæ, in quo multos libros ineditos descripsit, auctorum vitas nunc primum vulgavit, latine vertit, et annotationibus illustravit, Leiden 1820. Har-El, S., Struggle for domination in the Middle East: The Ottoman-Mamluk war, 1485–91, Leiden 1995. Heal, F., Food gifts, the household and the politics of exchange in early modern England, in Past and Present 199 (2008), 42–70.

embassies and ambassadors in mamluk cairo

259

Holt, P.M., The Īlkhān Aḥmad’s embassies to Qalāwūn: Two contemporary accounts, in BSOAS 49 (1986), 128–32. Humphreys, S.R., Egypt in the world system of the later Middle ages, in C.F. Petry (ed.), The Cambridge history of Egypt, vol. 1: Islamic Egypt 640–1517, Cambridge 1998, 445– 61. Lane-Poole, S., History of Egypt in the Middle Ages, London 1901. Lange, D., Un texte de Maqrīzī sur «Les races des Sūdān», in AI 15 (1979), 187–209. Levanoni, A., Water supply in medieval Middle Eastern cities: The case of Cairo, in alMasāq 20/2 (2008), 179–205. Melvin-Koushki, M., The delicate art of aggression: Uzun Hasan’s Fathnama to Qaytbay of 1469, in Iranian Studies 44/2 (2011), 193–214. Pratt, M.L., Fieldwork in common places, in J. Clifford and G.E. Marcus (eds.), Writing culture: The poetics and politics of ethnography, Berkeley 1986, 27–50. Rabbat, N.O., The citadel of Cairo: A new interpretation of royal Mamluk architecture, Leiden 1995. Sharlet, J., Tokens of resentment: Medieval Arabic narratives about gift exchange and social conflict, in JAIS 11 (2011), 62–100. Stowasser, K., Manners and customs at the Mamluk court, in Muqarnas 2 (1984), 13–20. al-Tikriti, N., The Ḥajj as justifiable self-exile: Şehzade Korkud’s Wasīlat al-aḥbāb (915– 916/1509–1510), in al-Masāq 17 (2005), 125–46. Venzke, M.L., The case of a Dulgadir-Mamluk Iqṭāʿ: A re-assessment of the Dulgadir principality and its position within the Ottoman-Mamluk rivalry, in JESHO 43 (2000), 399–474. Watson, A.J., Mongol inhospitality, or how to do more with less? Gift giving in William of Rubruck’s itinerarium, in Journal of Medieval History 37 (2010), 90–101. Wilber, D.N., The Timurid court: Life in gardens and tents, Iran 17 (1979), 127–33. Winter, M., The Ottoman occupation, in C. Petry (ed.), Cambridge History of Egypt, vol. 1: Islamic Egypt 640–1517, Cambridge 1998, 490–516. Woods, J.E., The Aq-Quyunlu clan, confederation, empire: A study in 15th/9th century Turko-Iranian politics, Minneapolis 1976. Zaky, A.R., Gunpowder and Arab firearms in the Middle Ages, in Gladius 6 (1967), 45– 58.

part 2 The Mongols and Their Successors

∵

chapter 6

Careers in Diplomacy among Mamluks and Mongols, 658–741/1260–1341 Anne F. Broadbridge

In his Book of Government or Rules for Kings, the famous Seljuq vizier Niẓām al-Mulk (d. 485/1092) stated that an ambassador should be well-spoken, welltraveled, and well-educated, not to mention brave, manly, of noble family and, if possible, a boon companion to the king.1,2 But in the case of embassies sent by the early Mamluk sultanate of Egypt and Syria (648–923/1250–1517, early meaning 658–741/1260–1341), this theory was not observed. This could be because the Mamluks had their own ideas about ambassadors, which differed from those of Niẓām al-Mulk. One such set of ideas was penned by a man named al-Ḥasan b. ʿAbdallāh al-ʿAbbāsī in an advice work, or mirror for princes, entitled Āthār al-uwal fī tartīb al-duwal (Traces of first things in the ordering of states), which he probably composed for the Mamluk sultan Baybars al-Jāshnakīr (r. 708–9/1309–10).3 According to al-ʿAbbāsī, embassies should include three types of men, each with their own special function: military commanders to assess the host’s capacity for warfare, religious men to help members of the mission behave according to Islamic law, and chancery officials (usually clerks) to ensure that everyone conformed to diplomatic pro-

1 For further discussion of Mamluk and Golden Horde diplomacy in particular, I refer the reader to Favereau’s article in this volume. The author acknowledges that this paper may be at odds with arguments made elsewhere in this volume. To be clear, the thesis here is that the reality of Mamluk recruitment of diplomats was, to a significant extent, not in keeping with the theories espoused in their statecraft manuals. The reasons for this discrepancy are not entirely evident, but one can certainly imagine time pressure, exigent financial circumstances and a desire to avoid sending the Mamluks’ “best and brightest” on long-term missions with uncertain outcomes (or even uncertain prospects that the diplomat would return in one piece). This article was originally conceived as a thought piece for the 2012 conference out of which this volume originates, and revised largely in late 2015/early 2016 thereafter. The author would invite with pleasure further scholarship that might reconcile this thesis with the others in this book, or develop these themes further. 2 Niẓām al-Mulk, The book of government 98. 3 Al-ʿAbbāsī states that he began writing on 13 Shawwāl 708/26 March 1309; Baybars al-Jāshnakīr was elevated by his men on 23 Shawwāl or 5 April. See al-ʿAbbāsī, Āthār al-uwal 1.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2019 | doi:10.1163/9789004384637_007

264

broadbridge

tocol.4 But even this theory, which originated in the sultanate and was directed at Mamluk rulers, did not reflect the reality of Mamluk practice. Instead, the Mamluks overwhelmingly relied on undistinguished, mid- or low-ranking military commanders as chief ambassadors. This was certainly the case when they interacted diplomatically with their Mongol neighbors, whether the Golden Horde to the north, or the Ilkhanids to the east.5 Furthermore, although religious men also served as diplomats, this was the exception, not the rule, while clerks may have gone or not: their presence is recorded nowhere. Moreover, some additional figures populated the diplomatic world, whom neither Niẓām al-Mulk nor al-ʿAbbāsī mentions: these were merchants, but their roles were always occasional and unofficial. Finally, far from being a plum position for one of the ruler’s boon companions, as Niẓām al-Mulk implied, acting as an official diplomat for the Mamluks was a difficult, dangerous, and undesirable task, and an appointment as the chief diplomat in any mission was the worst job a man could have. As a result, the best place for an ambitious man within the world of diplomacy was actually in the entourage. There, talented individuals might find exciting opportunities; diplomats, by sad contrast, did not.

1

The Commanders

Although the discrepancies between al-ʿAbbāsī’s theory and actual Mamluk practice were considerable, he was nevertheless right to start by mentioning military men, since the Mamluks overwhelmingly preferred them as chief ambassadors. The qualifications for the job were several. First, and not surprisingly, these commanders seem to have possessed special linguistic abilities: that is, they did not rely exclusively on translators.6 Although the sources are reticent about the details, a few telling examples support this conclusion. One is from 661/1262, when a Mamluk commander named Sayf al-Dīn Kusharbak was sent to the Golden Horde precisely because he “… knew the lands and languages, and had been in the service of the Khwarizmshah.”7 This was 4 Ibid. 191–2. 5 Further research is needed to show whether the Mamluks also preferred low-level, unimportant men as ambassadors when interacting with Christian rulers in the Levant or Europe. 6 At least, they did not rely on them to speak; we do know that written letters were translated at Mongol and Mamluk courts. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 19–20. 7 Al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxx, 64; al-ʿAynī, ʿIqd al-jumān i, 361, who elaborates that Kusharbak was the jamdār (a chief wardrobe officer and court official) of the Khwarizmshah. Ayalon, Structure (I) 214 and note 5.

careers in diplomacy among mamluks and mongols

265

presumably the very last Khwarizmshah, Jalāl al-Dīn Mangūbirtī, who died in 628/1231, which means that if Sayf al-Dīn had been young then, he would still have been able to serve thirty years later in 661/1262.8 We may assume that Sayf al-Dīn possessed the sophistication and polish necessary to be an ambassador, as well as the gravitas conferred by age; as stated, he certainly enjoyed the required linguistic dexterity. Just in case, he was accompanied by two Mongols, themselves originally from the Golden Horde, who may have helped with travel logistics and, when necessary, interpreted. His fourth companion was a Muslim jurisconsult ( faqīh), Majd al-Dīn al-Rūdhrāwarī, whose nisba to the village of Rūdhrāwar near Nihāvand in the Persian-speaking region of Hamadan suggests he knew that language.9 Another Mamluk ambassador, ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn Aydughdī, went to the Golden Horde in 714/1314–5 and 716/1316–7.10 Like Kusharbak he bore the nisba alKhwārizmī, which again probably reflected linguistic competence, even though in his case the nisba referred not to the defunct Khwarizmshah Empire but to the region of Khwarizm, which was controlled by the Chaghatayid Mongols and populated by linguistically and ethnically mixed Mongols and Turks.11 A third example is the Mamluk Aytamish, an ambassador to the Ilkhanids in the 720s/1320s, who was himself a Mongol, spoke and wrote Mongolian, and knew Mongol history and culture.12 When possible, therefore (and when the sources choose to tell us about it), these commander diplomats seem to have possessed special linguistic abilities that qualified them for the task at hand. In contrast to their fluency, however, ambassadors were not marked by impressive rank. Rather, they tended to possess middling military positions at most: they were commanders of 40 (amīr ṭablakhāna), or fewer men. Only rarely did the Mamluks choose ambassadors from the highest level (of 100), or anyone with a named court position. Thus chamberlains (ḥujjāb) went to the Golden Horde in 663/1265, and the Ilkhanids in 670/1271–2 and 727/1327,13

8 9

10

11 12 13

For Jalāl al-Dīn see Boyle, Dynastic and political history 322–35. For this embassy see table 6.1, entry 2. For the inclusion of a religious man, see below in this article, under “Religious Men.” For Rūdhrāwar, see Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muʿjam al-buldān iii, 78. He also traveled to points west, on which see al-Ṣafadī, Aʿyān al-ʿaṣr i, 652; otherwise see al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxxii, 224–5; al-Fākhirī, Taʾrīkh 164; al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk ii, 145, 163–4. See Biran, The Chagadaids 743; also May, Mongol conquests 73–4, 230. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 107. See also the pioneering work of Little, Notes on Aytamiš. See table 6.1, entry 7, table 6.4, entry 4, and table 6.6, entry 27.

266

broadbridge

while a treasurer (khaznadār) visited the Golden Horde in 711/1311–2, but those were all.14 Furthermore, sometimes these ambassadors were not mamluks at all, but rather hailed from the auxiliary forces (the ḥalqa).15 These units contained men of all backgrounds, among them Mongols who had emigrated to Mamluk territory and spoke the necessary languages.16 But membership in the auxiliaries rarely led to high-level military careers, since the best jobs within the sultanate were generally reserved for mamluks.17 In addition, the prestige of the ḥalqa began to decline about fifty years into the sultanate.18 So even when the ḥalqa was at its height, by definition the commanders chosen from it for diplomatic jobs were not influential within the overall military system. In other words and in clear contrast to Niẓām al-Mulk’s advice, the Mamluk sultans did not send men they would miss. Only two examples contradict this general rule of mediocrity. The first was a talented chief ambassador in the 660s/1260s, a commander named Fāris al-Dīn Āqqūsh al-Masʿūdī, who was dispatched in 660/1261–2 by the Mamluk sultan Baybars (r. 658–76/1260–77) to the Byzantine Emperor Michael VIII Paleologus (r. 1259–82).19 Then in 661/1263 Fāris al-Dīn set out to lead a second embassy to the Golden Horde, but en route he was detained for months in Constantinople, for reasons of political intrigue.20 While he was delayed, an army led by the Golden Horde general Noghai arrived to harass Michael (for unrelated reasons). But a resolution seemed to be at hand: it was Fāris al-Dīn, the Mamluk ambassador, who first convinced Michael to let him go talk to Noghai, after which he convinced Noghai to call off the attack.21 Thereafter Michael rewarded Fāris al-Dīn by permitting him to continue on to the Golden Horde as thanks for making the army go away. One might say that Fāris al-Dīn displayed independence, initiative, and savoir-faire, and also solved several problems at once. But the rulers with whom Fāris al-Dīn interacted took a dim view of his behavior. Thus, 14 15 16

17 18 19 20 21

See table 6.3, entry 8; also see Nakamachi, Reconsideration, 68–71 on the ḥalqa; Amitai, Mongol Origin, 127–8. See table 6.3, entries 4, 9, 11, 13, 15, 25, 36, 38, and table 6.6, 9. On these emigrants, the wāfidiyya, see Ayalon, The Wafidiyya; also Amitai-Preiss, Mongols and Mamluks 71–2, 106, 108–9; Mazor, The rise and fall 34, 87, 91–2, 123–5, 167–9, 193, 213. He suggests that occasionally members of the wāfidiyya did enjoy meaningful career advancement. Ayalon, L’ Esclavage du Mamlouk 91–3; by contrast, for a description of the careers of actual mamluks see Mazor, The Manṣūrīyah legacy; similarly his The rise and fall. Ayalon, Structure (2) 451–2; note the more recent work of Levanoni, The ḥalqah. Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir 129–31; Baybars al-Manṣūrī, Zubdat al-fikra 76; Shāfiʿ, Ḥusn al-manāqib 104; al-ʿAynī, ʿIqd al-jumān i, 332. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 54–5; 56–8. See also table 6.1 entry 4. Ibid.

careers in diplomacy among mamluks and mongols

267

when Fāris al-Dīn met with Berke Khān, Berke threatened to have him beaten for interfering with his army. When Fāris al-Dīn returned to Cairo, Baybars did have him beaten, and also took a huge sum of money from him for his apparent abuse of power.22 We have no evidence that Fāris al-Dīn ever worked in diplomacy again. In other words, Fāris al-Dīn was a hardworking, creative, and persuasive ambassador who showed resourcefulness and initiative in a challenging situation. His reward was intimidation, physical punishment, financial ruin, and unemployment. We simply cannot find a similar example of energy, hard work, and talent for another sixty years. Only then do we see such abilities in the person of the abovementioned Mamluk Aytamish, who became the darling of the international scene in the 720s/1320s. Aytamish was a favorite of the Mamluk sultan al-Nāṣir Muḥammad (third r. 709–41/1310–41), and repeatedly visited the Ilkhan Abū Saʿīd (r. 717–36/1317–35) as an ambassador. In the ilkhanate Aytamish spent his time making pleasant social calls, entertaining with Muḥammad’s money, and dispensing lavish public charity.23 Aytamish was also the key to Muḥammad’s delicate negotiations with the Ilkhanid governor of Anatolia, Temürtash, who rebelled against Abū Saʿīd and then fled to Mamluk territory in 728/1328. There Muḥammad first harbored Temürtash, but later had him killed as a favor to Abū Saʿīd. It was Aytamish who negotiated Temürtash’s escape to Cairo, Aytamish who attended Temürtash’s secret nighttime execution, and Aytamish who took the good news to Abū Saʿīd.24 But Fāris al-Dīn and Aytamish, that is, two examples of personality, influence and, in Aytamish’s case, popularity, were exceptional; the rule was much less glamorous. In fact, this was a world of obscurity: the men chosen as diplomats appear in the sources almost exclusively in the context of their missions. Otherwise, neither the histories nor the biographical dictionaries mention them, which suggests they were negligible personalities in their own society. They usually suffered long, dangerous journeys under uncertain conditions, after which they had to represent their sender’s interests at the host court in an unfamiliar public forum where every word, glance, and movement were scrutinized for meaning. If the interaction was hostile, they might endure unpleasant

22 23 24

Ibid. 58 and especially note 142. Ibid. 107, 109, 121–4. The only problem was that Muḥammad also sent Temürtash’s head to Abū Saʿīd (separately). As it happened the head arrived first and unannounced, which was a terrible faux pas. Although officially Aytamish was welcomed as usual, unofficially he was ostracized and embarrassed, and after his return to Cairo, he never again went to the ilkhanate. Ibid. 117–25.

268

broadbridge

purification rituals (passing between fires) or security measures (staying in boring, locked quarters with no view). Worse yet, diplomats enjoyed few rewards for doing the job well: we see virtually no evidence that their successes translated into promotions within the sultanate after they returned home, or that they received significant tangible rewards. I find no record that these commanders ever constructed buildings, endowed waqf s or left other lasting evidence of wealth and influence. Nor was diplomacy a good long-term career: most diplomats went only to a single destination, often only once, so they could never develop relations (or expertise) in the host court. Very few men traveled twice to any location, and even fewer served in multiple destinations.25 In other words, diplomacy was not a shining path to great things, and only unknown mid-level commanders worked in this unrewarding realm of government business. It is worth wondering how these men felt about their jobs, and it is highly unlikely that any truly ambitious officer ever wanted a diplomatic posting.

2

Religious Men

Al-ʿAbbāsī also states that religious men served as ambassadors. But whereas he claims they went routinely to maintain propriety among the mission, research suggests that this comment was either naïve or disingenuous. Religious men served only occasionally as chief ambassadors, and helping everyone behave was not their real purpose. Rather, they functioned as diplomats only at particular moments when their presence enhanced the dignity, religiosity, and gravitas of the mission in a specifically Islamic way. Some examples will illuminate this. The first is from Muḥarram 661/ November–December 1262, when Baybars was forging his relationship with Berke Khān. As mentioned above, he sent not only the military commander with Khwarizmian experience, Kusharbak, and the two Mongols, but also the jurisconsult, Majd al-Dīn al-Rūdhrāwarī.26 By this point Baybars knew about Berke’s recent conversion to Islam, and thus surely chose to send a jurisconsult in order to take advantage of Berke’s presumed new enthusiasm for Islamic values. As a religious scholar representing the Mamluk sultan, therefore, Majd

25

26

For examples of Mamluk ambassadors who traveled repeatedly to a location, see table 6.2, Balbān al-Ḥalabī in entries 4, 8; table 6.3, Ayyāz al-Shamsī in entries 2 and 4; Ḥusayn b. Ṣārū in entries 11 and 13, Tuqṣuba in entries 19 and 21; also see table 6.6, Aytamish in entries 15, 22, 29, 36, and table 6.6, entries 42, 43, 45, and 48. I was unable to find Majd al-Dīn in al-Ṣafadī, al-Ṣuqāʿī or in Ibn Khallikān. On him see table 6.1, entries 2, 3.

careers in diplomacy among mamluks and mongols

269

al-Dīn tacitly promoted Baybars’ own status as a Muslim ruler, a patron of scholars, and a guardian of Islam and Muslims, all ideas that had recently become part of the Mamluk ideological platform.27 Just in case his Muslim credentials had not been clear enough, in summer 661/1263 Baybars sent a second embassy to Berke. This time he sought to emphasize his endorsement from the new Abbasid caliph, al-Ḥākim bi-amr Allāh. Baybars thus found an Abbasid judge, ʿImād al-Dīn ʿAbd al-Raḥmān alHāshimī l-ʿAbbāsī, and sent him to Berke as an ambassador, along with the abovementioned and ill-fated military commander Fāris al-Dīn.28 Here, too, Baybars chose a religious figure to highlight his own position as a Muslim ruler, while the judge’s status as an Abbasid was surely intended to emphasize that members of that venerable family, including the caliph, lived in Mamluk territory. But once Baybars’ religious credentials in general and position vis-à-vis the caliph in particular had been established, he stopped sending religious men, and as far as we can tell from the patchy records, his ambassadors thereafter were military officers.29 That is, Baybars had made his point about his own promotion, support, and protection of Islam, and he could therefore afford to return to business as usual with commander diplomats. Similarly the ambassadors for Qalāwūn (r. 678–89/1279–90) and his son Khalīl (r. 689–93/1290–3) were officers.30 Qalāwūn was simply following the ideological model of guardianship and protection of religion that Baybars had successfully established, and in his interactions with the Golden Horde did not need to re-emphasize his religious position through the deployment of scholars (Qalāwūn sent no ambassadors to the Ilkhanids at all). If anything, the Golden Horde ruler Töde Möngke (r. 678–9 to 685–6/1280–7) affirmed Qalāwūn’s superior religious status by sending his own scholars to Cairo to ask for advice on how to be a good Muslim ruler, which Qalāwūn obligingly provided.31 As for Khalīl, although he became a ferocious warrior for Islam in the guardianship model, and although he enjoyed strong ceremonial and personal ties to the

27 28 29

30

31

Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 30–1, 51–4. See table 6.1, entry 4. Many of his ambassadors are not named in the sources; after the embassy of Ramaḍān 661/July–August 1263, those who were mentioned were exclusively amīrs. See table 6.1, entries 7, 13, 15. See the names in table 6.2, entries 1, 4, 6, 8, and 10. Where names are given at all, the occupation is usually commander (amīr); in other places the occupation can be inferred from the martial honorifics like “Sayf al-Dīn” (Sword of Religion) or “ʿAlam al-Dīn” (Martial Banner of Religion) which were only used by military men, not civilians. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 61–3.

270

broadbridge

Caliph al-Ḥākim, he only sent one ambassador to the Golden Horde, a commander who was recalled from Alexandria after Khalīl’s murder. Like his father, he sent no one to the Ilkhanids.32 As for Qalāwūn’s younger son, Muḥammad: although twice Mamluk officials sent judges on Muḥammad’s behalf to the Ilkhanids, along with military commanders, these incidents happened during and immediately after several tense years when the Ilkhan Ghāzān was invading Mamluk territory while also attacking the Mamluk state on ideological grounds, and Muḥammad himself was mostly a figurehead (2nd reign 698–708/1299–1309).33 So in these cases the religious credentials of judges sent during wartime served to underscore the Mamluks’ protection of Islam through military action and support for Islamic law. By contrast, once Muḥammad finally took over for good in his third reign, he never sent religious men anywhere, even though, paradoxically, he jealously guarded his image as a Muslim ruler.34 Instead, and even more than his predecessors, he relied on obscure military commanders, frequently from the ḥalqa, to serve as ambassadors, with the single exception of the talented Mamluk Aytamish.35 Since he was both controlling and paranoid, it is likely that he took special care to employ men whose absence would mean nothing, and who would never be likely to stir up trouble at any foreign court. Similarly the Mongols liked to dispatch Muslim religious figures, but also only on special occasions when it made sense to underscore religious ideas in their diplomatic messages. Thus, in the Golden Horde, first Berke in the 660s/1260s, then Töde Möngke in the early 680s/1280s, dispatched jurisconsults to the Mamluks specifically to announce their conversions to Islam.36 The rest of the time, however, Golden Horde rulers, whether Muslims or not, appear to have sent only military men as diplomats.37 The same was true for the Ilkhanids, with a few notable exceptions. In late summer 681/1282 the Ilkhan Tegüder Aḥmad fitted out an embassy to the Mamluks both to announce Tegüder’s conversion to Islam, and (obliquely) to

32 33 34 35 36

37

Ibid. 44–50 and 63. See ibid. chapter 3, and also table 6.6, entries 6, 9. Ibid. 100, 102–4, 114–7, 124–5, 125–31. See above, note 14. For Berke this meant the Shaykh Nūr al-Dīn ʿAlī l-Turkumānī l-Dimashqī, who arrived in Cairo in Rajab 661/May–June 1263 (see table 6.1, entry 3). For Töde Möngke this meant two jurisconsults, Majd al-Dīn ʿAṭāʾ and Nūr al-Dīn, who arrived in Cairo in Jumādā II 682/August–September 1283, one of whom (Majd al-Dīn ʿAṭāʾ) he sent on a later mission in 685/1286–7; see table 6.2, entries 3 and 7. See the names in table 6.1, entries 3, 6; table 6.2, entries 2, 3, 9; and table 6.3, entries 1, 3, 5, 7, 10, 12, 14, 16, 18, 37.

careers in diplomacy among mamluks and mongols

271

demand Mamluk submission to Ilkhanid rule. Because Tegüder’s message was heavily Islamic, the lead ambassador was a religious official: the chief judge of the Anatolian city of Sivas, Quṭb al-Dīn al-Shīrāzī.38 Thereafter, perhaps nervous about Tegüder’s conversion and certainly curious to know more, the Mamluk sultan Qalāwūn requested that any further embassies be led by another religious figure, Tegüder’s spiritual advisor and the man with whom he had converted, a shaykh named ʿAbd al-Raḥmān.39 The shaykh thus duly arrived on a second embassy in late winter 682/1284, promoted Tegüder’s conversion as Quṭb al-Dīn had done, asserted Tegüder’s right to the moral high ground as a better Muslim ruler than Qalāwūn, and again called for Mamluk submission, albeit in another veiled manner.40 But Tegüder was the exception among the Ilkhanids, both for his conversion and his use of religious men as ambassadors: none of his predecessors or immediate successors sent Muslim scholars on diplomatic missions. Only during the reign of the Muslim convert Ghāzān (r. 694–703/1295–1304) did religious scholars, particularly judges, appear again. Like Tegüder, Ghāzān seems to have actively preferred to send Muslim scholars to the Mamluks.41 But in his case this can be seen as a clear reflection of his intent to annex Mamluk territory. He expressed these ambitions directly to the Mamluks and their subjects through these religious men, who used deliberately Islamic terminology (even when the concepts were not particularly Islamic) in an attempt to undermine Mamluk claims to superiority, which were based on the sultan’s relationship to Islam as a guardian king.42 Thereafter Ghāzān’s brother Öljeitü (r. 703–16/1304–6) followed this lead, although the effect was lessened since he sent very few embassies.43 Subsequently Abū Saʿīd, whose relationship to the Mamluk sultan al-Nāṣir Muḥammad was cordial, returned to the norm of favoring military officers as ambassadors. Nevertheless exceptions did occur, as in 732/1331–2, when Abū Saʿīd sent one Shaykh Ibrāhīm to Cairo as a lead ambassador. Shaykh Ibrāhīm

38

39 40 41 42 43

He was accompanied by the atābak of the Seljuq ruler Ghiyāth al-Dīn Masʿūd II (1st r. 681/1282) and the vizier of the Artuqid city of Mardin, one Shams al-Dīn Ibn al-Taytī lĀmidī. See Allouche, Tegüder’s ultimatum 437–40; Holt, The Īlḫān Aḥmad’s embassies 128; also Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 39–40. Also see Pfeiffer, Conversion to Islam 225. On him see Pfeiffer, Conversion to Islam 201, 285–301; 369–77; Pfeiffer, Reflections 369–89; Allouche, Tegüder’s ultimatum 442–3; Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 42–4. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 42–4; see also Allouche, Tegüder’s ultimatum 442–4. See table 6.6, entries 2, 3, 5, 7. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology, chapter 3. See table 6.6, entry 8.

272

broadbridge

was the grandson of a well-respected Mamluk commander who had lived with the Mongols in the 660s/1260s.44 He was also a learned religious figure. Thus, in a sort of pious homecoming, in Damascus Shaykh Ibrāhīm twice attended Friday prayers at the Umayyad mosque, distributed public charity and visited holy sites in the city before traveling on to Cairo.45 It cannot be doubted that Abū Saʿīd’s choice of ambassador, and Shaykh Ibrāhīm’s conspicuous public religiosity, were deliberate, and reflected Abū Saʿīd’s desire to find a sympathetic figure to help him intervene with Muḥammad on behalf of some of the Meccan princes who had fallen afoul of the Mamluk sultan in the previous year and had applied to Abū Saʿīd for help. This intervention in turn demonstrated Abū Saʿīd’s overarching wish to compete with Muḥammad for status as a religious patron in the holy cities in Arabia. For all of these reasons, a solid, respectable, openly pious man had to represent the ilkhan, rather than the usual commander.46 As seen therefore (and as the tables demonstrate in detail), the standard for ambassadors was military commanders. Although religious men also served, they were the exception, not the rule. Despite al-ʿAbbāsī’s suggestion otherwise, both within the Mamluk sultanate and among the Mongols, religious men only led embassies at specific moments for precise and discernible purposes, usually to promote a particular view of Islam, or to bolster the public appearance of piety or religiosity that a ruler was seeking to display.

3

The Merchants

The other participants in international diplomacy who went unmentioned by either Niẓām al-Mulk or al-ʿAbbāsī, and yet were at times essential for the establishment, maintenance or overall health of diplomatic interactions between rulers, were merchants. These were usually slave merchants, who routinely traveled back and forth between rulers’ territories, and who were therefore in an unmatched position to influence both sides. A full discussion of the relationship of merchants and merchandise to diplomacy is beyond the scope of this

44

45 46

This was Sunqur al-Ashqar, a close friend of Baybars, who had been captured by the Mongols at Aleppo in 658/1260, then was traded for the Armenian prince Lewon, whom Baybars captured in turn, in 664/1265–6. Sunqur was later responsible for inviting the Mongols to invade in 680/1281, then set himself up as an independent sultan, albeit without success. For him see Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 33, 39. Al-Jazarī, Taʾrīkh ii, 458. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 128–9.

careers in diplomacy among mamluks and mongols

273

paper, but I will at least make a few comments, and provide three telling examples to demonstrate the impact of merchants on the diplomatic scene. One of the best known merchants was the famous Majd al-Dīn Ismāʿīl alSallāmī, a successful slaver whose connections to both the Mamluks and the Ilkhanids were excellent: among the Ilkhanids he was well acquainted with Abū Saʿīd’s vizier, ʿAlī Shāh; while in Cairo he not only sold slaves to the Sultan al-Nāṣir Muḥammad, but also interacted regularly with the highest Mamluk financial official, Karīm al-Dīn al-Kabīr.47 As a result of his business, al-Sallāmī regularly traveled between the two lands, and in Muḥarram 721/February 1321 he arrived in Cairo with an unofficial message from the ilkhan suggesting that Abū Saʿīd (and Choban, and ʿAlī Shāh) were interested in arranging a peace with the Mamluk sultan. Al-Sallāmī was followed by fabulous gifts in a separate caravan. Muḥammad took the message seriously, and in Rajab/August sent alSallāmī back with a positive reply.48 This paved the way for official diplomats to open formal relations between the two rulers in late Rabīʿ I 722/mid-April 1322, which led to a peace treaty in summer 723/1323.49 Thereafter al-Sallāmī remained involved in relations between the sides, but only on an ad hoc basis, since regular diplomacy was taken over by servants of each state. Nevertheless Muḥammad in particular continued to rely on al-Sallāmī, usually to oversee unsavory tasks: he sometimes asked al-Sallāmī to shelter the Assassins he repeatedly dispatched after Mamluk defectors in Ilkhanid territory; then on one memorable occasion in 728/1328 he employed al-Sallāmī’s servant to deliver the head of Abū Saʿīd’s rebellious governor Temürtash to the ilkhan.50 Another merchant involved in diplomacy was Sakrān or Shakrān (?) alFirinjī. Like al-Sallāmī he was well-connected in Mamluk territory—Sakrān was particularly close to Sultan Baybars II (al-Jāshnakīr, d. 709/1310), and was later on good terms with al-Nāṣir Muḥammad’s financial official Karīm al-Dīn.51 His nisba of al-Firinjī (the Frank) indicates that he hailed from Western Europe; he was in fact Genoese and dealt in slaves from the Golden Horde and also other merchandise, including sugar out of Cairo.52 Like al-Sallāmī, Sakrān’s 47 48 49 50

51 52

He was the enormously influential nāẓir al-khāṣṣ, the financial overseer of the sultan’s wealth. See Melville, ‘Sometimes by the sword’ 252. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 104–6. Ibid. 107–9. See Melville, ‘Sometimes by the sword’ 252–7; Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 123 (for Temürtash’s head); also Amitai, Resolution 366–7 and note 26; Ayalon, Structure (2) 3; Rabbat, The changing concept 91 and note 29. Al-ʿAynī (Topkapı), ʿIqd al-jumān 340b. For him see Kedar, Segurano-Sakrān Salvaygo. Kedar, Segurano-Sakrān Salvaygo 76. For the slaves see al-Ṣafadī, Aʿyān al-ʿaṣr iv, 138; for the sugar see al-ʿAynī (Topkapı), ʿIqd al-jumān 340b.

274

broadbridge

role in diplomacy was unofficial, yet crucial, since he helped facilitate marriage negotiations between the Mamluk sultan al-Nāṣir Muḥammad and Özbek of the Golden Horde. Deliberations began in 715/1315 under the leadership of the Mamluk ambassador ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn Aydughdī l-Khwārizmī, but stalled when Özbek insisted on a very high bride price for a Chinggisid bride for Muḥammad, the prospective groom.53 Then, when the next Mamluk ambassador, a ḥalqa commander named Aturjī, traveled to see Özbek in 718/1318–9, he discovered that Özbek was ready to send the lady after all. Unfortunately this required Aturjī to host a party and pay a (reduced) bride-price, for neither of which he had the funds on hand. A few merchants, Sakrān among them, helped Aturjī out of his predicament by providing a loan of more than 70,000 gold dinars to cover his expenses.54 Although Sakrān is not specifically named in the sources, he must have been the principal loan agent, since, in 721–2/1321–2 when Özbek lost his temper with Muḥammad for mistreating Özbek’s personal shaykh (see below), it was Sakrān, and no other merchant, whom Özbek murdered as a direct fling at the Mamluk sultan.55 Sakrān’s role in diplomacy, therefore, was auxiliary: he bankrolled diplomatic interactions, but did not participate directly in them. His role was also vital: without him (and his colleagues), Aturjī would have faced an untenable position in 718/1318–9. And yet Sakrān’s involvement was too direct for his own good, since it appears to have resulted in his untimely death. A third merchant involved tangentially in the diplomatic world was Khwāja ʿUthmān b. Musāfir, who was yet another slave trader. He first brought the mamluk and future Sultan al-Ẓāhir Barqūq (r. 784–91/1382–9, 792–801/1390– 9) to Mamluk lands from Circassia. Then, at Barqūq’s request, he personally escorted all of Barqūq’s relatives—father, sisters, nephews—to Egypt immediately after Barqūq’s assumption of power in 782/1380.56 It was with these relatives that Barqūq set up what might have become a dynasty: he made his father a commander of 100, and started two of his nephews as commanders, then promoted them into such titled positions as lord of the audience (amīr majlis), master of the royal stables (amīr ākhūr) and secretary of state (dawādār; lit. holder of the inkwell).57 Barqūq also set his son, al-Nāṣir Faraj (r. 801–8/1399–1405, 808–15/1405–12), on the throne, and Faraj immediately promoted his cousins to chief military commander (atābak) in one case and 53 54 55 56 57

Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 132–3. Al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxxii, 324; al-ʿAynī (Topkapı), ʿIqd al-jumān 327b. Al-ʿAynī (Topkapı), ʿIqd al-jumān 340b. Broadbridge, Sending home 11. Ibid. 10–3.

careers in diplomacy among mamluks and mongols

275

governor of Syria in the other.58 It was only the warlord Tīmūr (d. 807/1405) and some Mamluk factional struggle that ruined the hopes of this dynasty. Regardless of its untimely end, however, it could not have existed at all had it not been for the merchant, Khwāja ʿUthmān, whose role in establishing it was auxiliary, yet instrumental.59 The sources therefore suggest important roles for other merchants on the international scene, and certainly this topic deserves closer attention than I can give it here. But the point remains that merchants facilitated international negotiations of all kinds. Since they did so only on an unofficial basis, this may explain why they went unmentioned by the official treatises on diplomacy.

4

The Entourages

As mentioned, the best opportunities in diplomacy came not to diplomats themselves, that is, not these overworked commanders and their occasional religious companions, but rather to members of the entourage. Because official diplomats were constrained in their activities and behavior, it was only members of the entourages who could seize the opportunities that arose from traveling, meeting new people, and escaping familiar society. For some, these opportunities were merely personal, but for the truly ambitious man with nerves of steel, a place in the entourage could just possibly lead to employment, reward, and a dazzling future. 4.1 The Golden Horde Embassy of Dhū l-Qaʿda 662/September 1264 The first known example of opportunities for members of the diplomatic entourage was an interesting study in failure. It took place in 662/1264, when a Golden Horde embassy to Cairo brought with it a man who claimed to be an exiled member of the Ayyubid house from the eastern Anatolian city of Mayyāfāriqīn: al-Malik al-Ashraf b. al-Malik al-Muẓaffar Shihāb al-Dīn Ghāzī. AlAshraf vowed that he had been in Berke’s lands, and had come to Mamluk territory on Berke’s behalf to serve as an eyewitness to his battles with the Ilkhanids. As if to confirm al-Ashraf’s report, some Mamluk commanders, led by one Sunqur al-Aqraʿ, vouched for the Ayyubid’s identity. But soon it developed that the Ayyubid was an imposter, whom Sunqur al-Aqraʿ had either secretly invited to come, or had even planted on the mission without Berke’s knowledge. Baybars

58 59

Ibid. Ibid.

276

broadbridge

promptly imprisoned all the conspirators and the imposter, which appears to have ended their careers.60 The purpose of all this was unclear—was Sunqur al-Aqraʿ hoping to reestablish an Ayyubid puppet with himself as kingmaker? Was the Ayyubid actually an imposter, as the sources insist, or was he a genuine member of that family? And what were his motives? Since the conspirators were entirely thwarted, we will never know the extent of their ambitious and devious plot. But we can at least deduce from their failure that opportunities did present themselves in diplomacy, albeit in this case certainly not to the diplomats themselves. 4.2 The Ilkhanid Embassy of Dhū l-Ḥijja 682/February–March 1284 An embassy that provided more successful opportunities for a few members of its 150-person entourage came from the Ilkhanids with Shaykh ʿAbd alRaḥmān in late winter 682/1284.61 Among them was Shams al-Dīn Muḥammad Ibn al-Taytī, vizier for the Artuqid rulers in Mardin, who were vassals to the Ilkhanids.62 During the visit, the Ilkhan Tegüder was deposed and killed at home, and so the entire mission was imprisoned in Damascus, ʿAbd al-Raḥmān was summarily robbed of his valuables by the Mamluk state, and moved into lesser and probably unappealing quarters. He died shortly thereafter, perhaps in part from shock.63 But the Mamluks appear to have maintained a far warmer opinion of Ibn al-Taytī, since by contrast he was later released from prison— possibly before his companions—and moved to Egypt, where he was given a salary-producing grant of property (iqṭāʿ) and, eventually, a respectable job as the director (wālī) of the sultan’s grievance court, dār al-ʿadl.64 A more modest member of the same entourage, a kūfiyya maker named Nāṣir al-Dīn Dhubyān al-Shaykhī, was also freed, plied his trade for a time, then moved to Egypt 60

61

62 63 64

Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 55–6 and note 134; also see al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxx, 123 claiming that Sunqur had actually sent the imposter to Berke; al-Yūnīnī, Dhayl ii (Hyderabad 1954–61), 323, claiming Sunqur had sent a messenger to the man and invited him to Cairo for secret purposes; also see Ibn Aybak al-Dawādārī, Kanz al-durar viii, 115 for a brief report. This does not including the military escort, which was detained at the border. See Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 43; also see Holt, The Ilḫān Aḥmad’s embassies 132; for the number of the escort see al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxxi, 99; Ibn Aybak al-Dawādārī, Kanz al-durar viii, 261; al-Ṣuqāʿī, Tālī Kitāb Wafāyāt al-aʿyān 106; Ibn al-Furāt, Taʾrīkh alduwal vii, 278. They ruled from the end of the fifth/eleventh centuries to the beginning of the ninth/fifteenth. See Cahen, Artuḳids. On Ibn al-Taytī see Pfeiffer, Conversion to Islam 226. Al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxxi, 101–2; Ibn Aybak al-Dawādārī, Kanz al-durar viii, 265; al-Ṣuqāʿī, Tālī Kitāb Wafāyāt al-aʿyān 107. Al-Ṣuqāʿī, Tālī Kitāb Wafāyāt al-aʿyān 107, 155.

careers in diplomacy among mamluks and mongols

277

and secured some unknown post in administration through the auspices of the Mamluk commander Baybars al-Jāshnakīr.65 Later, still others from that entourage were released because one of its members, an astronomer named Yaḥyā, secured the sympathetic intervention of the Mamluk governor of Damascus.66 So for Shaykh ʿAbd al-Raḥmān, being a diplomat led to imprisonment, insult, and death in exile; for both Ibn al-Taytī and Dhubyān al-Shaykhī, and perhaps a few others, membership in the entourage led eventually to second careers. 4.3 The Golden Horde Embassy of 720/1320 The most dramatic opportunities for members of the entourage came with one of the biggest embassies in Mamluk history, when in late Rabīʿ I 720/early May 1320 numerous ships appeared at Alexandria, carrying not only a Golden Horde diplomatic mission, but also a truly enormous entourage of 2,400 to 3,000 members.67 Its purpose was to provide a suitable escort for the Chinggisid princess Ṭulunbāy, who was arriving for her wedding to al-Nāṣir Muḥammad.68 The principals of the embassy and the bride herself engaged in the official duties, and so once again members of the entourage were able to pursue their own goals in Cairo. For some, these opportunities were modest and personal, as in the case of a judge who stayed in Egypt after the festivities, made the pilgrimage to Mecca, and headed back to the Qipchaq Steppe in 721/1321.69 A more important member of this same entourage was Shaykh Nuʿmān, Özbek’s spiritual mentor, who hoped to visit Jerusalem and Hebron and build a religious structure there. Unfortunately Muḥammad’s officials were overly stressed with the challenges of housing and feeding Ṭulunbāy’s people, and therefore did not identify the Shaykh as especially dear to Özbek. As a result, they not only failed to treat him with the respect he deserved, but even rebuked him for resisting a transfer to new lodging partway through his stay in Cairo.70 Although the Shaykh later did travel to Jerusalem, Mamluk officials did not let him use the gold he had brought for his construction project; instead, he had to make a private arrangement with representatives of the Georgian king

65 66 67 68 69 70

Ibid. 73. The governor was Ḥusām al-Dīn Lājīn; see ibid. 107, 155; al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxxi, 101–2 (without naming the governor). Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 133 note 143. Al-Ṣafadī, Aʿyān al-ʿaṣr iv, 138; for Ṭulunbāy see Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 132–4. Al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxxii, 326. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 133, 135. The move was from al-Kabsh to Dār al-Ḍiyāfa; see al-ʿAynī (Topkapı), ʿIqd al-jumān 340a–b.

278

broadbridge

George V (r. 1314–46) to build on Georgian-owned land.71 This gaffe on the part of the Mamluk officials had serious diplomatic ramifications, among them the abovementioned murder of the merchant Sakrān al-Firinjī two years later.72 But the third and most successful member of this same diplomatic entourage was the Mongol Qawṣūn.73 After arriving in Cairo with everyone else, Qawṣūn somehow managed to come to the sultan’s attention, possibly by standing nearby and radiating charm while the sultan was meeting with Sakrān alFirinjī. Qawṣūn must have been very good looking, since Muḥammad offered to buy him; Sakrān said he was not a slave and not for sale; but Muḥammad nevertheless sent a huge sum (8,000 dirhams) to Qawṣūn’s brother Sūsūn as a “price” (Qawṣūn was very proud that Muḥammad had been willing to pay for him).74 Muḥammad made Qawṣūn one of his intimates, then a commander of 100 even though he was not a mamluk. Qawṣūn married one of Muḥammad’s daughters in 727/1326–7,75 brought many of his relatives to Cairo from the Golden Horde, and became tremendously influential in the factional struggles that followed Muḥammad’s death in 741/1341.76 This therefore illustrates what could result from the combination of a truly ambitious man and a unique opportunity, which never could have existed for a diplomat himself. 4.4 The Ilkhanid Embassy of 726/1325–6 Personal connections to the sultan could also be forged by select members of Ilkhanid entourages. One, named Ṭāyirbughā, arrived in Rajab 726/June–July 1326 with an Ilkhanid embassy sent by the great commander Choban. Ṭāyirbughā had been the Ilkhanid governor of the Anatolian city of Akhlāṭ, but had decided to move to Mamluk territory because he was a relative of the sultan, who may even have invited him and his handsome son Yaḥyā to come. It is entirely possible that Ṭāyirbughā was a relative: Muḥammad’s mother, the daughter of a Mongol commander, had emigrated with her father and relatives to Egypt from Anatolia in 675/1276–7, where additional family may have been left behind.77 (Alternatively, one source suggests that Ṭāyirbughā might 71 72 73 74 75 76 77

Al-ʿAynī (Topkapı), ʿIqd al-jumān 340b. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 135; see above under “Merchants” for the sad fate of the merchant Sakrān al-Firinjī, which was the ugliest result of this diplomatic gaffe. Van Steenbergen, Order out of chaos, throughout, but especially: 55, 63, 81–2, 147–50; see also al-Ṣafadī, Aʿyān al-ʿaṣr iv, 138. Al-Ṣafadī, Aʿyān al-ʿaṣr iv, 138. Ibid. iv, 137–8. Ibid. iv, 138; al-Shujāʿī, Taʾrīkh 159. She was the daughter of a Mongol named Saktāy (?) of the Besüt clan, son of Qarajin son of Junghay (?), who had come to the region with the great Mongol commander of Anato-

careers in diplomacy among mamluks and mongols

279

have been one of Qalāwūn’s long-lost Qipchaq relatives, although this seems less likely.78) But in any case Muḥammad welcomed and honored Ṭāyirbughā and Yaḥyā, and immediately made Ṭāyirbughā a commander of 40, and his son a commander of 10. Later Muḥammad promoted Ṭāyirbughā to commander of 100, the highest rank.79 A year later a second man, Muḥammad Bey the son of Jamaq, accompanied another Ilkhanid embassy to Cairo in Rajab 727/May 1327, and presented himself as Ṭāyirbughā’s nephew (his sister’s son), and therefore another relative of al-Nāṣir Muḥammad. The sultan was equally delighted, promptly welcomed this visitor as well, acknowledged the relationship between them, made him a commander of 40, and let him stay in Cairo for the rest of his life.80 This was in marked contrast to Muḥammad’s reaction to the official ambassadors who accompanied Muḥammad Bey, and who asked the sultan to send a daughter to marry a son of Choban. In their case he not only refused the request, but even claimed he had no daughters of marriageable age, which was a lie.81

5

Conclusion

To conclude, I will say that learning about the careers of official diplomats for this paper was surprising, since I expected diplomats in Mamluk society to be high-ranking, privileged men who were honored and rewarded for their difficult and dangerous service to the state, as recommended by earlier authors like Niẓām al-Mulk. Instead, however, I saw that the case of official Mamluk diplomats was disheartening, since their careers were constrained, the men who held these jobs were obscure, and they enjoyed very little reward or advancement. The military commanders were the workhorses, bearing the greatest burdens and serving most frequently, and yet most thanklessly, as chief ambassadors. Their religious counterparts appeared far less often, usually only when

78 79 80 81

lia, Baidu. Saktāy emigrated in 675/1276–7 from Anatolia as one of the commanders who helped convince Baybars to invade that region. Qalāwūn later married Saktāy’s daughter, who became Muḥammad’s mother. See the at times garbled lineages in al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxxi, 90; Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, Tashrīf al-ayyām 110–1; also the report of her father’s arrival from Anatolia in Baybars al-Manṣūrī, Zubdat al-fikra 152; Ibn Aybak alDawādārī, Kanz al-durar viii, 187. Al-ʿAynī (Topkapı), ʿIqd al-jumān 370a; Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 111 esp. note 48. Al-ʿAynī (Topkapı), ʿIqd al-jumān 370a; al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk ii, 273. For Ṭāyirbughā’s later rank see Ibn Aybak al-Dawādārī, Kanz al-durar ix, 366. Al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxxiii, 231; al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk ii, 282–3. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 110; 111–3.

280

broadbridge

their sender had a particular religious position to endorse or proclaim. The Mamluks did not honor their own ambassadors, or promote them, and they worked hard to send men they would not miss. Diplomacy within the sultanate was a dead-end career, at least for the actual diplomats. By contrast, I was interested to learn that the opportunities for members of the entourage could be far superior to anything available to diplomats. These cases from the margins of diplomatic ventures in turn suggest a larger picture of interconnection between the Mamluk sultanate and other regions, regardless of official relations. The Mamluks were entirely capable of enjoying family ties, religious interests, and political connections that extended well beyond the borders of the sultanate, while at the same time outsiders eagerly turned their ambitions toward Cairo. But even in these latter cases, only the truly enterprising were able to seize the moment and turn it to their advantage: not every entourage produced a Qawṣūn. table 6.1

Baybars and the Golden Horde

Sender

Recipient

Date (in Cairo)

Names

Notes

Ref.

1

Baybars

Berke

* Alan Merchant

First attempt

82

2

Baybars

Berke

Ramaḍān 660/ Aug. 1262 Muḥarram 661/ Nov.–Dec. 1262

3

Berke

Baybars

82 83

84

Rajab 661/ May–June 1263

* Jurisconsult Majd al-Dīn al-Rūdhrāwarī * Sayf al-Dīn Kusharbak * 2 Mongols * [Amir] Jalāl al-Dīn b. Qāḍī Tūqāt * [Shaykh] Nūr al-Dīn ʿAlī [al-Turkumānī or al-Dimashqī] * returning Majd al-Dīn al-Rūdhrāwarī (sick)

83

84

Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 51 and note 111; also see Amitai-Preiss, Mongols and Mamluks 80–1. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 53 and note 120; the names appear only in Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir 138; al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxx, 64; Baybars al-Manṣūrī, Zubdat al-fikra 83; al-ʿAynī, ʿIqd al-jumān i, 361. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 53 and note 121; the names appear in Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir 140, 170, 215 (claiming Jalāl al-Dīn b. al-Qāḍī was an amir but ʿAlī was a shaykh from Damascus); al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxx, 65 (agreeing that Jalāl al-Dīn was an amir but giving ʿAlī the laqab al-Turkumānī); al-Yūnīnī, Dhayl i, 533 (here identifying Jalāl al-Dīn not as the son of a judge but himself the judge of Toqat); Ibn Aybak

281

careers in diplomacy among mamluks and mongols Table 6.1

Baybars and the Golden Horde (cont.)

Sender

Recipient

Date (in Cairo)

Names

Notes

Ref.

4

Baybars

Berke

Ramaḍān 661/ July–Aug. 1263

After investment of Caliph al-Ḥākim bi-amr Allāh (relative of the envoy)

85

5

Baybars

Michael Jumādā II 662/ Paleologus Mar.–Apr. 1264

Response to Byzantine detention of Mamluk envoys to Berke Khān

86

6

Berke

Baybars

10 Dhū l-Qaʿda 662/4 Sept. 1264

With returning Mamluk Kusharbak; Ayyubid “Imposter” arrives, too87

88

7

Baybars

Berke

8

Möngke Baybars Temür

Shawwāl 663/ July–Aug. 1265 Early 667/ autumn 1268

* Sharīf (and judge) al-ʿImād ʿAbd alRaḥmān al-Ḥāshimī l-ʿAbbasī * Fāris al-Dīn Āqqūsh al-Masʿūdī l-Asadī * Unnamed bishop * priest * Greek language expert * Arbūghā * Artīmū * U(r)namas/sh Shujāʿ al-Dīn b. al-Dāya the Ḥājib No names given

85

86 87

88

89 90

al-Dawādārī, Kanz al-durar viii, 97 (agreeing that Jalāl al-Dīn was the son of a judge, not one himself, but then misnaming the second envoy as ʿIzz al-Dīn, not Nūr al-Dīn ʿAlī); Ibn Abī l-Faḍāʾil, al-Nahj al-sadīd 452 (copying this mistake but naming the other as Jalāl alDīn b. Qāḍī Tūqāt); also Baybars al-Manṣūrī, Zubdat al-fikra 82 (claiming ʿAlī was a shaykh, but saying nothing about Jalāl al-Dīn’s occupation, other than that his father was a judge); al-Yūnīnī, Dhayl ii, 195. Basing my analysis on Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir in particular, I argued that both men were religious scholars (Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 53); but this now seems open to question, since Jalāl al-Dīn may have been a commander, albeit one with a scholarly father. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 54–5; the names appear in Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir 129–31, 173, 203; Ibn Aybak al-Dawādārī, Kanz al-durar viii 97; Shāfiʿ, Ḥusn almanāqib 111–2, 130–1; Ibn Abī l-Faḍāʾil, al-Nahj al-sadīd 453; al-Yūnīnī, Dhayl ii, 197 and i, 537. The identification of these men, albeit without names, occurs only in Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir 202–3. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 56 and note 134; also see Abū Shāma, Tarājim 232; alNuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxx, 123; Ibn Aybak al-Dawādārī, Kanz al-durar viii, 115; al-Yūnīnī, Dhayl ii, 323–4. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 55 and notes 132–3; Ibn Aybak al-Dawādārī, Kanz aldurar viii, 101 albeit claiming the Mamluk envoy was Fāris al-Dīn; al-Yūnīnī, Dhayl i, 542; al-ʿAynī, ʿIqd al-jumān i, 361; al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk i, 538; Baybars al-Manṣūrī, Zubdat al-fikra 126. The name is given in al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxx, 116; al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk i, 538. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 59 esp. note 149.

89 90

282

broadbridge

Table 6.1

Baybars and the Golden Horde (cont.)

Sender

Recipient

Date (in Cairo)

Names

Notes

Ref.

9

Baybars

Response to Möngke Temür’s embassy

91

Noghai Baybars

Early 667/ autumn 1268 669/1270–1 669/1270–1

No names given

10 11

Möngke Temür Baybars Noghai

12

Möngke Baybars Temür

Dhū l-Qaʿda 670/ No names given May–June 1272

13

Baybars

Late Shaʿbān 671/ Feb.–Mar. 1273

14

Möngke Baybars Temür Baybars Möngke Temür

18 Rajab 674/ 7 Jan. 1276 Shortly after 18 Rajab/7 Jan. 1276

16

Möngke Baybars Temür

Rabīʿ II-Jumādā II 675/Sept.–Nov. 1276

17

Möngke Baybars Temür

Rabīʿ II 676/Sept. No names given 1277

15

91 92 93 94

95 96 97 98 99

Möngke Temür

No names given No names given

* Sayf al-Dīn al-Ṣawābī l-mihmandār * Badr al-Dīn b. ʿAzīz al-Ḥājib al-Kurdī No names given * al-ʿIzz Aybak alFakhrī * Royal Mamluk alBaghdādī No names given

Response to Noghai’s embassy Envoys captured briefly by “Franks” (“Marshīliyya”?) Response to Möngke Temür’s embassy

92 93 94 95

96 Response to Möngke Temür’s embassy

97

Golden Horde presents gifts at Baybars’ son’s wedding (Berke Khān b. Baybars) After Baybars’ death on 27 Muḥarram 676 / 30 June 1277

98

99

Ibid. Ibid. 59 and note 151; Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir 371; Baybars al-Manṣūrī, al-Tuḥfa al-mulūkiyya 71; Baybars al-Manṣūrī, Zubdat al-fikra 131. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 60 and note 157. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 60 and note 159; the Franks are mentioned in Baybars al-Manṣūrī, Zubdat al-fikra 134; Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir 400; by contrast Ibn Aybak al-Dawādārī seems to identify them as Pisans. Ibn Aybak al-Dawādārī, Kanz al-durar viii, 167. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 61 and note 161; the names are in Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir 411; Ibn Shaddād, Taʾrīkh 58; al-Yūnīnī, Dhayl iii, 5. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 61 and esp. note 162. Ibid.; the names of Baybars’ men appear only in Ibn al-Furāt, Taʾrīkh al-duwal vii, 44. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 61 and esp. note 162. Ibid.; Amitai-Preiss, Mongols and Mamluks 90.

283

careers in diplomacy among mamluks and mongols table 6.2

Qalāwūn, Khalīl and the Golden Horde

Sender

Recipient

Date

1

Qalāwūn

Möngke Temür

Rabīʿ I 679/ June–July 1280

2

Töde Möngke?

Qalāwūn

3

Töde Möngke

Qalāwūn

4

Qalāwūn

Töde Möngke

Noghai Qaidu

5

Qaidu

Qalāwūn

6

Qalāwūn

Qaidu

7

Töle Buqa

Qalāwūn

100 101 102

103

104 105 106

Names

Notes

* Shams al-Dīn Sunqur * Sayf al-Dīn Balbān al-Khāṣṣturkī Rabīʿ I 681/ * amir S-r-t-w-s Problematic reference June–July 1282 * amir N-r-w-ʿās * Sayf al-Dīn Abū Bakr Jumādā I 682/ Two jurisconsults: Aug.–Sept. 1283 * Majd al-Dīn ʿAṭāʾ * Nūr al-Dīn * one other person Early 683/ * Sayf al-Dīn Balbān Mar.–Apr. 1284 al-Ḥalabī l-Kabīr * Muẓaffar al-Dīn Mūsā b. T-m-r-s-lās * Q-ṭ-ʿān * Shams al-Dīn Muḥammad b. Abī l-Shawārib Muḥarram 683/ None mentioned Return of unmentioned Mar.–Apr. 1284 Mamluk embassy * Sayf al-Dīn Balbān Note the overlap with al-Ḥalabī embassy no. 4 above * Muẓaffar al-Dīn Mūsā 685/1286–7 * Jurisconsult Majd al-Dīn ʿAṭāʾ (again)

Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 61 and note 164; for the names see Ibn al-Furāt, Taʾrīkh al-duwal vii, 179. Ibn al-Furāt, Taʾrīkh al-duwal vii, 246, albeit calling the sender simply “Bughā.” The reference is quite problematic, and not found elsewhere. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 62 and note 167; the names appear in Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, Tashrīf al-ayyām 46; al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxxi, 102–3; Baybars al-Dawādār, Zubdat al-fikra 234; Ibn al-Furāt, Taʾrīkh al-duwal vii, 277. Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, Tashrīf al-ayyām 55; the embassy was mentioned at the beginning of the events for that year—they were often sent out in Muḥarram—and the next mentioned month is Rabīʿ I, by which time the envoys were most likely on their way. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 61–2 and note 165 for a brief reference to Qaidu; otherwise, Ibn al-Furāt, Taʾrīkh al-duwal viii, 1. Ibn al-Furāt, Taʾrīkh al-duwal viii, 1. Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, Tashrīf al-ayyām 143–4.

Ref.

100 101 102

103

104 105 106

284

broadbridge

Table 6.2

Qalāwūn, Khalīl and the Golden Horde (cont.)

Sender

Recipient

8

Qalāwūn

[Töle Buqa] and Noghai?

9

Noghai

10

Khalīl

Töle Buqa

table 6.3 Sender

Date

Names

692/1292–3

Recipient

Date

Toqta Muḥammad 704/1304–5 Muḥammad Toqta 704/1304–5

3

Toqta

110 111

112

Ref.

* Sayf al-Dīn Balbān

107

* Envoys of Noghai accompanying Zayn al-Dīn al-Tīzīnī (?) * ʿAlam al-Dīn aldawādārī

108 Recalled after Khalīl’s murder; never reached Sarāy

109

Muḥammad and the Golden Horde

1 2

107 108 109

Notes

Muḥammad 706/1306–7

Names * Q-r-q-jī / Q-r-q-ī * Amir Bālbān alṢarkhadī * Amir Bālbān alḤakīmī * Amīr ākhūr Fakhr alDīn Ayyāz al-Shamsī * Namūn, traveling with Balbān (above) * Manghūsh?

Notes

Ref.

110 111

112

Ibid. Ibid. Ibn Kathīr, al-Bidāya wa-l-nihāya xiii, 392; al-ʿAynī, ʿIqd al-jumān iii, 187; Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 63 and note 173. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 131 and note 136; the name (such as it is) appears in Baybars al-Manṣūrī, Zubdat al-fikra 381; al-ʿAynī, ʿIqd al-jumān iv, 345. The names appear in al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxxii, 86; Baybars al-Manṣūrī, Zubdat alfikra 381; and Baybars al-Manṣūrī, al-Tuḥfa al-mulūkiyya 180 (albeit on their return to Cairo in 706/1306–7); al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk ii, 27–8; for a brief report see Ibn Aybak al-Dawādārī, Kanz al-durar ix, 128. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk ii, 27–8. Manghūsh went to Cairo as an ambassador for Toqta but records do not indicate when; he then went again for Özbek. See al-ʿAynī (Topkapı), ʿIqd al-jumān 308b.

285

careers in diplomacy among mamluks and mongols Table 6.3 Sender

Muḥammad and the Golden Horde (cont.) Recipient

Date

Names

Notes

Ref.

706/1306–7

* Amir Badr al-Dīn Bakmish al-Ẓāhirī * Amir Sunqur alAshqar * Amīr ākhūr Fakhr alDīn Ayyāz al-Shamsī (again) * a ḥalqa commander * ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn ʿAlī * Ibn Akhī Abkār * Nāṣir al-Dīn Muḥammad b. al-Yamanī * unnamed second man * Manghūsh?

They probably travel with Namūn, the returning Golden Horde ambassador

113

4

Muḥammad Toqta

5

Toqta

6

Muḥammad Toqta

7

Toqta

8

Muḥammad Toqta

711/1311–2

9

Muḥammad Toqta

Date unclear but after 711/1311–2

113 114 115 116

117 118

Muḥammad 710/1310–1 710/1310–1

Muḥammad 711/1311–2

* Sayf al-Dīn Ulmāz al-Khāṣṣturkī * Zayn al-Dīn Qarajā al-khaznadār * Ḥalqa amīr ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn Kundughdī al-Ilāqī (?) * Ḥalqa amīr ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn Ṭaybughā l-Karmūnī (or alKarfūnī)

114 Travel with returning Golden Horde ambassadors

115

Golden Horde ambassadors with returning Mamluk ambassadors; all seized by Genoese, then released They arrive while Toqta is dying and are delayed

116

Sent because previous men take so long; cross paths with them

118

Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk ii, 27–8. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 131 and note 136. For the names see Baybars al-Manṣūrī, al-Tuḥfa al-mulūkiyya 220. Broadbridge, ibid. For the names see Baybars al-Manṣūrī, al-Tuḥfa al-mulūkiyya 220. Broadbridge, ibid. For the details see al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxxii, 173–4; al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk ii, 101–2; al-ʿAynī (Topkapı), ʿIqd al-jumān 283b and 308b, which is the only place the names appear. Al-ʿAynī (Topkapı), ʿIqd al-jumān 283b and 308b; al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk ii, 137 but adding “alKhāṣṣturkī” to Qarajā’s name; he does not mention Ūlmāz. For the names see al-Fākhirī, Taʾrīkh 161, who mentions that Ṭaybughā died while at Özbek’s court; al-ʿAynī (Topkapı), ʿIqd al-jumān 308b.

117

286

broadbridge

Table 6.3

Muḥammad and the Golden Horde (cont.)

Sender

Recipient

10

Özbek

Muḥammad Dhū l-Ḥijja 713/Mar.– Apr. 1314

11

Muḥammad Özbek

12

Özbek

13

14

Date

Ṣafar 714/May 1314

Muḥammad Ramaḍān 715/Dec. 1315 Muḥammad Özbek Muḥarram 716/Mar.– Apr. 1316

Özbek

119

120 121 122

123

Muḥammad Shaʿbān 717/late Nov. 1317

Names

Notes

Ref.

Possibly * Baklamish b. Entourage of 174 people, Qanjūbughā or 300 * Mamluk ambassadors [Ulmāz] and Qarajā returned with him * Sayf al-Dīn Aturjī (ṭablakhāna amīr) * Ḥusām al-Dīn Ḥusayn b. Ṣārū (muqaddam of the ḥalqa) Manghūsh

119

* ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn Aydughdī l-Khwārizmī * Ḥusām al-Dīn Ḥusayn b. Ṣārū (muqaddam of the ḥalqa) (again) * Sh-r-n-k / Shirīk (?), a Traveling with the toman commander returning men Aydughdī * Bagharṭāy (?) and Ḥusayn * Qa-r-ṭ-qā (?) * ʿUmar al-Qirimī

122

120

121

123

Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 131–2 and note 138. For the names see al-Fākhirī, Taʾrīkh 161 (specifying they were ḥalqa commanders and mentioning the 174 entourage number); Ibn Aybak al-Dawādārī, Kanz al-durar ix, 279–81 (mentioning Baklamish and the 300 entourage number); al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk ii, 132 and 145; al-ʿAynī (Topkapı), ʿIqd al-jumān 308b. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 132 and note 138. For the names see al-Fākhirī, Taʾrīkh 161. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 132 and note 139. The name appears in al-ʿAynī (Topkapı), ʿIqd al-jumān 309a. Broadbridge, ibid. For the names see al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxxii, 224–5, 254, 323; al-Fākhirī, Taʾrīkh, 164, 166; al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk ii, 145, 163–4, 174; al-ʿAynī (Topkapı), ʿIqd al-jumān 327b. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 132 and note 140. For the names see al-Maqrīzī, alSulūk ii, 177; and al-ʿAynī (Topkapı), ʿIqd al-jumān 317b.

287

careers in diplomacy among mamluks and mongols Table 6.3 Sender

Muḥammad and the Golden Horde (cont.) Recipient

15

Muḥammad Özbek

16

Özbek

17

Muḥammad Özbek

18

Özbek

19

Muḥammad Özbek

124

125 126 127 128

Date

Names

Ṣafar 718/ Apr.–May 1318–9

* Aturjī (again) a ṭablakhāna amīr * Bayram Khūjā (a muqaddam of the ḥalqa who was made an amir of 10 with the posting) * Bāynār / Bāyinjā (?) * Ṭulunbāy’s wedding * Ītalghī party * Ṭuqbughā * Bāynār / Bāyinjā had * Manghūsh to be carried because * Turjī he could not stand or * ʿUthmān Khūjā walk * Baktimur (knew * Entourage of 2,400– road) 3,000 * Qartuqa (knew road) * Shaykh Burhān alDīn, the imam of Özbek Khān * Judge of Sarāy (unnamed) No names given

124

* Karay * B-l-r-gh-s (?) * Baghrās

127

Muḥammad Late Rabīʿ I 720/early May 1320

Shaʿbān 720/Sept.– Oct. 1320 Muḥammad Later in 720/1320

Responding to previous embassy?

* Sayf al-Dīn Tuqṣuba al-Ẓāhirī?

Notes

Separate from Ṭulunbāy’s wedding embassy; came seeking military alliance vs. Ilkhanids Presumed response to previous; returned with Özbek’s embassy (no. 20, below)

Broadbridge, ibid. For the names see al-Fākhirī, Taʾrīkh 167; al-ʿAynī (Topkapı), ʿIqd aljumān 317b, who is the only one to mention Bayram Khwāja’s promotion to amir of 10, also 327b; al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxxii, 323. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 132–3 and notes 139–48. For the names see al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk ii, 204; al-ʿAynī (Topkapı), ʿIqd al-jumān 327b. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 132–3 and note 148. Ibid. 134 and note 152. The names appear in al-ʿAynī (Topkapı), ʿIqd al-jumān 328a. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 134 and note 152. For Tuqṣuba see al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxxiii, 28; al-ʿAynī (Topkapı), ʿIqd al-jumān 333b, 340b.

Ref.

125

126

128

288

broadbridge

Table 6.3 Sender 20

21 22

Muḥammad and the Golden Horde (cont.) Recipient

Özbek

Muḥammad Dhū lQaʿda 721/Nov.– Dec. 1321 Muḥammad Özbek Date unknown Özbek Muḥammad Rabīʿ II 722/Apr.– May 1322

23

Muḥammad Özbek

24

Özbek

25

Date

133 134

Notes

Ref.

No names given

Muḥammad treats them badly and is rude

129

* Sayf al-Dīn Tuqṣuba al-Ẓāhirī No names given

Tuqṣuba travels with badly-treated embassy Tuqṣuba returns complaining of bad treatment; Muḥammad again insults Özbek’s man Presumed response to previous; little direct mention in sources No trouble mentioned; Qārāqūsh returns also

130

After previ- * Qārāqūsh ous

Muḥammad Rabīʿ I 724/Feb.– Mar. 1324 Muḥammad Özbek Rabīʿ II 724/Mar.– Apr. 1324

129 130 131 132

Names

No names given

* Badr al-Dīn Bakmish al-Sāqī al-Ẓāhirī (amīr ṭablakhāna and jāndār) * Badr al-Dīn Abū Ghāda (?) (a ḥalqa muqaddam) * Badr al-Dīn Aldughdī the ustādār * Sayf al-Dīn Rusulān (?)

131

132 133 134

Broadbridge, Kingship and Ideology 134 and note 153. Ibid. Ibid. 135 and notes 154–5; al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk ii, 236. There is only the implication that Muḥammad sent an embassy back, along with a reference to an otherwise unknown returning Mamluk ambassador, Qārāqūsh, in al-Fākhirī, Taʾrīkh 174 for Rabīʿ I 724/February–March 1323. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 135 and note 156. Ibid. For the names see al-Fākhirī, Taʾrīkh 174; al-ʿAynī (Topkapı), ʿIqd al-jumān 351b.

289

careers in diplomacy among mamluks and mongols Table 6.3

26

Muḥammad and the Golden Horde (cont.)

Sender

Recipient

Date

Özbek

Muḥammad 725/1324–5

Names

Mamluk ambassadors returning: * Sayf al-Dīn Bakmish al-Sāqī l-Ẓāhirī * Badr al-Dīn Bilik alSayfī the silāḥdār No Golden Horde names given 27 Muḥammad Özbek After previ- No names given ous 28 Özbek Muḥammad Rajab No Golden Horde 728/May– names given June 1328 Mamluk ambassador Aturjī returns 29 Muḥammad Özbek Shawwāl * Amir al-Sayf Aṭāris 728/Aug.– (?) Sept. 1328 * Anān (?) / Mājār b. Ighān (amir of 10) * Anān / Mājār’s paternal uncle Tīluq / Bilīk (?) 30 Özbek Muḥammad Late Mamluk ambassador Muḥarram Mājār returns 730/midNo Golden Horde Nov. 1330 names given GAP OF SEVERAL YEARS 31 Özbek Muḥammad 735/1334–5 No names given 32

Muḥammad Özbek

135 136 137 138 139 140

After previ- No names given ous

Notes

Ref.

These return with a request from Özbek for religious books, which Muḥammad sends

135

Response to previous book request Ambassadors discover that Muḥammad has divorced Ṭulunbāy?

136 137

138

No sign of trouble; embassies travel one after the other, not together

139

Özbek is angry about Ṭulunbāy’s divorce Presumed response to previous; little direct mention in sources

140

Broadbridge, ibid. For the names see al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk ii, 264. Broadbridge, ibid. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 136 and notes 159–60. For the names see al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk ii, 296. Ibid. For the names see al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxxiii, 259–60; al-Fākhirī, Taʾrīkh 179– 80; al-ʿAynī (Topkapı), ʿIqd al-jumān 378b. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 136 and note 162. Ibid. and note 163.

290

broadbridge

table 6.3 Sender 33

34

35

36

Muḥammad and the Golden Horde (cont.) Recipient

Date

Özbek

Muḥammad Jumādā I 737/Dec. 1336-Jan. 1337 (in Damascus on way to Cairo) Muḥammad Özbek Dhū l-Ḥijja 737/June– July 1337 (from Cairo) Özbek Muḥammad 14 Jumādā II 739/28 Dec. 1338 Muḥammad Özbek 16 Shawwāl 739/27 Apr. 1339

37

Özbek

38

Muḥammad Özbek

141 142 143

144 145 146

Muḥammad Rabīʿ I 741/Aug.– Sept. 1340

Dhū lQaʿda 741/Apr.– May 1341

Names

Notes

141

No names given

* Sarṭaqṭāy (muqaddam of the barīd [the rapid messenger system] who was also an amir of 10) No Golden Horde names given * Mamluk ambassador Sarṭaqṭāy returns * ʿAlam al-Dīn Sulaymān al-Barīdī (amir of 10) * Lājīn al-Ḥamawī lBarīdī (ḥalqa muqaddam) * Uruktamur * Uruktamur’s son Muḥammad Khwāja * Qutlūjār * Qutlūjār’s son Abū Bakr Baydarā All ḥalqa commanders: * Ibrāhīm al-Jamdānī * Jarkas al-Sayfī * Manklī Bughā

Ref.

Went via Anatolia and crossed from Samsun; asked about purchasing slaves for Muḥammad

142

Both embassies traveling together; Golden Horde has entourage of 153 people Golden Horde men leave on 15 Ramaḍān /27 Mar. 1339, followed by Mamluks a month later

143

Golden Horde chief ambassador Uruktamur dies and is buried with honors; so does Ṭulunbāy, but she is buried in semi-secret Golden Horde ambassadors leave in Ramaḍān 741/Feb.–Mar. 1341, Mamluks leave later but catch up on rapid horse system

145

144

146

Ibid. 137 and n. 166. Ibid. For the name see al-Fākhirī, Taʾrīkh 194; al-Yūsufī, Nuzhat al-nāẓir 379. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 137 and notes 167–8. For the names and entourage number see al-Fākhirī, Taʾrīkh 200–1; al-Shujāʿī, Taʾrīkh al-Malik al-Nāṣir 45, also mentions the name Sarṭaqṭāy. For the names see al-Fākhirī, Taʾrīkh 200–1. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 137 and note 169. For the names see al-Fākhirī, Taʾrīkh 215. Ibid. For the names see al-Fākhirī, Taʾrīkh 221.

291

careers in diplomacy among mamluks and mongols table 6.4

Baybars and the Ilkhanids

Sender

Recipient

Date

Names

Notes

Ref.

1 2

Abagha Abagha

Baybars Baybars

664/1264–5 667/1268–9

Names unknown * Sunqur al-Ashqar

Its fate unknown He was a captured Mamluk commander who was being sent back

147 148

3

Parvanah

Shawwāl 670/May 1272

* Majd al-Dīn Dawlat Khān * Saʿd al-Dīn Saʿīd (translator) * envoys from the Parvanah * Mubāriz al-Dīn alṬūrī * Fakhr al-Dīn alMuqriʾ al-ḥājib No names given

Samaghar

4

Baybars

Abagha

Shawwāl 670/May 1272

5

Abagha

Baybars

Ṣafar 671/Aug.– Sept. 1272

table 6.5

1

149

Met with Parvanah and Samaghar in Anatolia; then sent on to Abagha in late summer Mamluk ambassadors return with them

150

151

Qalāwūn, Khalīl, and the Ilkhanids

Sender

Recipient

Date

Names

Ref.

Tegüder

Qalāwūn

Jumādā I 681/Aug.–Sept. 1282; in Damascus

Judge Quṭb al-Dīn Maḥmūd al-Shīrāzī * Bahāʾ al-Dīn, atābak of Seljuq sultan Masʿūd II * Shams al-Dīn Muḥammad b. al-Ṣāḥib [al-Āmidī l-Taytī]

152

147 148 149 150

151 152

Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 33 note 27. Ibid. 33–4; also see Amitai-Preiss, An Exchange of Letters. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 35–6; the names appear in Ibn Shaddād, Taʾrīkh 34–5. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 36; the names appear in Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir 399; al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxx, 191–2; Baybars al-Manṣūrī, al-Tuḥfa al-mulūkiyya 74; Baybars al-Manṣūrī, Zubdat al-fikra 134; Ibn Shaddād, Taʾrīkh 34–5; Ibn al-Furāt (Dār al-Kutub), Taʾrīkh al-duwal 205a. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 37. Ibid. 39 and note 60 with references to the extensive literature on this and the next embassy. The names appear in Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, Tashrīf al-ayyām 6; Shāfiʿ, al-Faḍl almaʾthūr 92 (calling Ibn al-Taytī a commander); al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxxi, 89–90 (calling Ibn al-Taytī a Ṣāḥib); Ibn Aybak al-Dawādārī, Kanz al-durar viii, 249 (calling Ibn al-Taytī the vizier of Mardin); Rashīd al-Dīn, Jami‘u’t-tawariḫ iii, 551; al-Yūnīnī, Dhayl iv, 145; Ibn al-Furāt, Taʾrīkh al-duwal vii, 248.

292

broadbridge

Table 6.5

2

Qalāwūn, Khalīl, and the Ilkhanids (cont.)

Sender

Recipient

Date

Names

Ref.

Tegüder

Qalāwūn

Arrived Dhū l-Ḥijja 682/Mar. 1284; met Qalāwūn Jumādā II 683/Aug. 1284, in Damascus

* Shaykh ʿAbd al-Raḥmān, S-m-dā-gh-w * Shams al-Dīn Ibn al-Taytī (again)

153

table 6.6

Muḥammad and the Ilkhanids

Sender

Recipient

1

Ghāzān

2

Ghāzān

3

Ghāzān

4

5

Date

Names

Notes

Ref.

Muḥammad 695/1294–5

No names given

154

Muḥammad Fall 699/1299

* Muḥammad alSikurjī * Unnamed others

Announcement of conversion; Mamluks did not respond Immediately prior to Ghāzān’s first invasion of Syria; Mamluks did not respond Arrived in Cairo in Dhū l-Qaʿda/July–Aug.

Sent letter with Ilkhanid ambassadors; no Mamluk ambassadors went

157

Muḥammad Composed * Nāṣir al-Dīn ʿAlī Ramaḍān Khwāja (amir) 700/May–June * Kamāl al-Dīn Yūsuf 1301, in the ordo (judge) Muḥammad Ghāzān Composed Same as above 28 Muḥarram 701/3 Oct. 1301 Ghāzān

153

154 155

156 157 158

Muḥammad 2 Muḥarram 702/27 Aug. 1302

* Naṣīr al-Dīn Tabrīzī (judge) * Quṭb al-Dīn Mawṣilī (judge)

155

156

158

Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 43–4. The names appear in Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, Tashrīf al-ayyām 44, 48; Shāfiʿ, al-Faḍl al-maʾthūr 113–7; al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxxi, 99; Ibn Aybak al-Dawādārī, Kanz al-durar viii, 261; Rashīd al-Dīn, Jami‘u’t-tawariḫ iii, 552; alṢuqāʿī, Tālī Kitāb Wafāyāt al-aʿyān 106, 155; Ibn al-Furāt, Taʾrīkh al-duwal vii, 278. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 65 and note 5. Ibid. 73 and note 31. For the names see the text of the letter found in al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxxi, 427, Baybars al-Manṣūrī, Zubdat al-fikra 352, al-ʿAynī, ʿIqd al-jumān iv, 132 and al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk i, 1016. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 80–1 and notes 53–4. Ibid. 82–85 and note 68. Ibid. 87 and note 77. For the names see Vaṣṣāf, Taʾrīkh 397 and Āyātī, Taḥrīr-i Taʾrīkh-i Vaṣṣāf 239–40.

293

careers in diplomacy among mamluks and mongols Table 6.6 Sender

Muḥammad and the Ilkhanids (cont.) Recipient

Names

Notes

Ref.

Jumādā I 702/Dec. 1302Jan. 1303 (in Ḥilla) Muḥammad Winter 702/1302–3

* Uzdamur al-Mujīrī (ṭablakhāna amīr) * Kamāl al-Dīn Ibn al-Sukkarī (judge) No names given

Imprisoned for two years until sent back by Öljeitü

159

160

Muḥammad Ramaḍān 704/Mar.–Apr. 1305

* Zīrak, a servant of Mūjī Bitakjī (?) * Iftikhār al-Dīn Bukhārī * ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn ʿAlī b. amīr al-Sayf Balbān al-Qalījī (ḥalqa amīr) * Ṣadr al-Dīn Sulaymān alShubrāywīqī (a village in Egypt; judge and witness in Cairo) No names given

Reception unknown; Mamluks did not respond; campaign followed immediately Uzdamur and Ibn alSukkarī return at last

No trouble this time

162

Several respectable ladies accompanied this envoy

163

6

Muḥammad Ghāzān

7

Ghāzān

8

Öljeitü

9

Muḥammad Öljeitü

10

Temürtash

11

Abū Saʿīd

12

Muḥammad Abū Saʿīd

159 160 161 162 163 164 165

Date

Dhū l-Qaʿda 704/May–June 1305

Muḥammad Shawwāl 720/Nov.–Dec. 1320 Muḥammad Muḥarram 721/Feb. 1321 Rajab 721/Aug. 1321

* Majd al-Dīn Ismāʿīl al-Sallāmī (merchant) * Majd al-Dīn Ismāʿīl al-Sallāmī (merchant)

161

164 Sent back by Muḥammad

Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 87 and notes 77–8; for the names see al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxxii, 18. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 90 and note 89. Ibid. 95 and notes 112–3. For the names see Qāshānī, Taʾrīkh-i pādshāh 42, 48. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 95 and note 114. For the names al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxxii, 87; Baybars al-Manṣūrī, Zubdat al-fikra 381; al-Fākhirī, Taʾrīkh 130. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 117 and note 72; for the ladies see Ibn Abī l-Faḍāʾil, Ägypten und Syrien 11. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 104–5 and notes 19–20, 21. Ibid. 105–6 and note 26.

165

294

broadbridge

Table 6.6

Muḥammad and the Ilkhanids (cont.)

Sender

Recipient

13

Temürtash

14

Abū Saʿīd

15

Muḥammad Abū Saʿīd

16

Choban

17

Abū Saʿīd

18

Abū Saʿīd

19

Muḥammad Abū Saʿīd

166 167 168 169 170 171

Date

Names

Notes

Ref.

Muḥammad 721/1321–2

No names given

Requested a Mamluk army; Muḥammad refused

166

Muḥammad Last 10 of Rabīʿ I 722/mid-Apr. 1322

* Nāṣir al-Dīn Muḥammad b. Qazvīnī l-Shāfiʿī (judge of Tabriz) * al-Ḥasan b. Shādī b. Sunjāq (?; amir) * mamluk of Choban the nāʾib * Aḥmad, son of the sultan’s maternal aunt Aytamish

Returning with previous Muḥammad 722 or 723/1321– No names given 3 Muḥammad Jumādā II * An unnamed 723/June 1323 toman leader as chief

Muḥammad Dhū l-Ḥijja 724/Nov.–Dec. 1324

Returning with previous

* Toghan (commander? Sent by Abū Saʿīd) * Ḥamza (sent by Choban) * Rayḥān, Abū Saʿīd’s treasurer (eunuch) No names given

167

168 169 Ambassador is very rude and has to be put in his place; no Mamluk ambassadors sent back this time

170

171

No mention of returning Mamluk ambassadors, but they probably were there

Ibid. 117 and note 72, also 118 and note 74. Ibid. 106 and notes 28–9. For the names see al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxxiii, 41; al-ʿAynī (Topkapı), ʿIqd al-jumān 340a is the most complete, and mentions the mysterious Aḥmad. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 107 and note 33. Ibid. 114–5 and note 59. Ibid. 107–10. Ibid. 111 and note 46. For the names see Abū l-Fidāʾ, The memoirs 84.

295

careers in diplomacy among mamluks and mongols Table 6.6 Sender 20

21

Muḥammad and the Ilkhanids (cont.) Recipient

Date

Abū Saʿīd

Muḥammad Jumādā I 725/Apr.–May 1325 Muḥammad Abū Saʿīd Returning with previous

22

Muḥammad Abū Saʿīd

23

Abū Saʿīd

24

Muḥammad Abū Saʿīd

25

Choban

26

Abū Saʿīd

Names

No names given

Muḥammad 726/1326

No names given

Three mystics

28

Muḥammad Rajab 727/May– * al-Sayf Asandamur, June 1327 who was “one of the greatest of toman leaders” Muḥammad Abū Saʿīd Returning with * Sayf al-Dīn Quṭprevious lūbughā l-Maghribī (ḥājib) Temürtash Muḥammad 727–8/1327–8 No name given

29

Muḥammad Temürtash

* Aytamish

30

Abū Saʿīd

* Arishbughā * Abajī * B-r-j-ā

27

172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180

In response to previous Muḥammad late Muḥarram 728/mid-Dec. 1327

Ref.

172

No names given

7 Jumādā I Aytamish 726/19 Apr. 1326 Muḥammad Rajab 726/ No names given June–July 1326

Returning with previous

Notes

No mention of returning Mamluk ambassadors, but they probably were there

173 Ṭāyirbughā and his son Yaḥyā, relatives of Muḥammad, are with them No specific mention of Mamluk ambassadors Asking for a wife for his son Dimashq Khwāja

174

175 176

177 Asking to join Muḥammad in Cairo Promising Temürtash asylum in Cairo Bearing news of the downfall of the Chobanids

Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 111 and note 46. Al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxxiii, 199, al-Jazarī, Taʾrīkh ii, 108–9. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 111 and note 46. For Ṭāyirbughā see above 278. Ibid. 115 and notes 60–1. Ibid. 111 and note 46. For the name see al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxxiii, 231. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 111 and note 46. For the name see al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxxiii, 231. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 118 and note 77. Ibid. 118 and note 78. Ibid. 121 and note 93. For the names see Abū l-Fidāʾ, The memoirs 89.

178 179 180

296

broadbridge

Table 6.6

Muḥammad and the Ilkhanids (cont.)

Sender

Recipient

31

Choban?

Muḥammad 9 Rabīʿ I 728/23 Jan. 1328

32

Abū Saʿīd

33

Muḥammad Late Rabīʿ I 728/Jan.–Feb. 1328 Muḥammad Abū Saʿīd 7 Rabīʿ II 728/20 Feb. 1328

34

Abū Saʿīd

35

Abū Saʿīd

36

Date

Muḥammad 20 Shaʿbān 728/30 June 1328

Names

* Sayf al-Dīn Uruj

* Sayf al-Dīn Uruj returning alone

Abū Saʿīd

38

Abū Saʿīd

39

Shaykh Ḥasan

181 182 183 184 185 186 187 188 189

Muḥammad Early Ṣafar 729/Dec. 1328 Muḥammad Jumādā II 729/Apr. 1329

Muḥammad Jumādā II 729/Apr. 1329

Ref.

181

* Shāhānshāh (Choban’s paternal first cousin) No names given

Muḥammad 11 Ramaḍān * Abajī, the amīr jān728/20 July 1328 dār, following Sayf al-Dīn Uruj Muḥammad Abū Saʿīd After 3 Shawwāl * Aytamish 728/11 Aug. 1328

37

Notes

182 Returning with previous and asking for clemency for Temürtash in Cairo Traveling at great speed to Cairo; Temürtash is arrested when he arrives

183

184

185 After Temürtash’s decapitation on 3 Shawwāl/11 Aug.; his head went separately

186

187 * Timurbughā lMarghinānī, a toman commander No names given

Arranging a marriage between Abū Saʿīd and one of Muḥammad’s daughters This was the new Ilkhanid amir; his envoys traveled alone

188

189

Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology, 121 and note 94. For the name see al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxxiii, 255; Ibn Abī l-Faḍāʾil, Ägypten und Syrien 40; al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk ii, 295. Broadbridge, Kingship and Ideology 121 and note 95. Ibid. and note 96. Ibid. 121 and note 97. Ibid. and note 99. For the name see al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxxiii, 256; al-ʿAynī (Topkapı), ʿIqd al-jumān 381a; Ḥāfiẓ Abrū, Dhayl 183; Abū l-Fidāʾ, The memoirs 90. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 121–3. Ibid. 124 and note 113. Ibid. For the name see al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxxiii, 280; al-Fākhirī, Taʾrīkh 180; alJazarī, Taʾrīkh ii, 324; Abū l-Fidāʾ, The memoirs 91. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 124, note 113.

297

careers in diplomacy among mamluks and mongols Table 6.6 Sender 40

Muḥammad and the Ilkhanids (cont.) Recipient

Date

Names

41

Abū Saʿīd Muḥammad Rajab 730/Apr.– Amir Ḥamza Shaykh May 1330 Ḥasan Muḥammad Abū Saʿīd After previous No names given

42

Abū Saʿīd

Muḥammad Early 731/winter * Shaykh Ibrāhīm 1330–1 b. Khiḍr b. Sunqur al-Ashqar

43

Abū Saʿīd

Muḥammad Rabīʿ I 732/Dec. 1331

44

Muḥammad Abū Saʿīd

45

Abū Saʿīd Shaykh Ḥasan

46 47

48

After previous

* Ḥājj Aḥmad

No names given

Notes

Ref.

Two embassies arrived one after the other Presumed response to previous To intervene on behalf of errant Meccans; conspicuous public displays of piety Reminder that Muḥammad owed a daughter as a bride Presumed response to previous Two embassies arrived one after the other

190

191

192

193

Muḥammad RamaḍānShawwāl 732/June–July 1332 Muḥammad Abū Saʿīd After previous

* Shaykh Ibrāhīm b. Khiḍr b. Sunqur al-Ashqar * Kūkūya No names given

Abū Saʿīd Shaykh Ḥasan Abū Saʿīd Shaykh Ḥasan

Muḥammad Ṣafar 733/Oct.– Nov. 1332

* Kūkūya (or Kūkūdiyya?)

194

Muḥammad Rabīʿ II 733/Dec. 1332Jan. 1333 Record ends

* Ḥājj Aḥmad

195

190 191 192 193 194 195

Presumed response to previous

Ibid. 128 and note 120; for the name see al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxxiii, 305. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 128–9 and note 125; for the name see Ibn Aybak alDawādārī, Kanz al-durar ix, 371; al-Fākhirī, Taʾrīkh 183. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 128 and note 120, also 129; for the name see Ibn Aybak al-Dawādārī, Kanz al-durar ix, 361; al-ʿAynī (Topkapı), ʿIqd al-jumān 398a. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 129 and note 127. For the names see al-Fākhirī, Taʾrīkh 183, 185. Broadbridge, ibid. and note 131. For the name see al-Fākhirī, Taʾrīkh 186. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 129 and note 131; also see 128 and note 120. For the name see Ibn Aybak al-Dawādārī, Kanz al-durar ix, 732; al-ʿAynī (Topkapı), ʿIqd al-jumān 400b.

298

broadbridge

Bibliography Primary Sources (Handwritten) al-ʿAynī (Topkapı), ʿIqd al-jumān fī taʾrīkh ahl al-zamān, MS Ahmed III 2912/4, Istanbul, Topkapı Library. Ibn al-Furāt (Dār al-Kutub), Taʾrīkh al-duwal wa-l-mulūk, MS 54251, MS 36310, Cairo, Dār al-Kutub.

Primary Sources (Printed) al-ʿAbbāsī, Āthār al-uwal fī tartīb al-duwal, ed. ʿA. al-R. ʿUmayra, Beirut 1989. Abū l-Fidāʾ, The memoirs of a Syrian prince: Abū’l-Fidā’, sultan of Ḥamāh (672–732/1273– 1331), trans. and ed. P.M. Holt, Wiesbaden 1983. Abū Shāma, Tarājim rijāl al-qarnayn al-sādis wa-l-sābiʿ al-maʿrūf bi-l-Dhayl ʿalā l-Rawḍatayn, ed. M.Z. b. al-Ḥ. al-Kawtharī, Cairo 1947. Āyātī, Taḥrīr-i Taʾrīkh-i Vaṣṣāf, Tehran 1967. al-ʿAynī, ʿIqd al-jumān fī taʾrīkh ahl al-zamān, ed. M.M. Amīn, 4 vols., Cairo 1987–92. Baybars al-Manṣūrī, al-Tuḥfa al-mulūkiyya fī l-dawla al-turkiyya, ed. ʿA. al-Ḥ. Ṣ. Ḥamdān, Cairo 1987. Baybars al-Manṣūrī, Zubdat al-fikra fī taʾrīkh al-hijra, ed. D.S. Richards, Beirut 1998. al-Fākhirī, Taʾrīkh salāṭīn al-mamālīk, ed. K.V. Zetterstéen, Beiträge zur Geschichte der Mamlukensultane in den Jahren 690–741 der Higra nach arabischen Handschriften, Leiden 1919. Hāfiẓ Abrū, Dhayl-i Jāmiʿ al-tavārīkh-i Rashīdī, ed. Kh. Bayānī, Tehran 1971. Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir fī sīrat al-Malik al-Ẓāhir, ed. ʿA. al-ʿA. Khuwayṭir, Riyadh 1976. Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, Tashrīf al-ayyām wa-l-ʿuṣūr fī sīrat al-Malik al-Manṣūr, ed. M. Kāmil, Cairo 1961. Ibn Abī l-Faḍāʾil, Ägypten und Syrien zwischen 1317 und 1341 in der Chronik des Mufaḍḍal b. Abī l-Faḍā’il, ed. and trans. S. Kortantamer, Freiburg im Breisgau 1973. Ibn Abī l-Faḍāʾil, al-Nahj al-sadīd wa-l-durr al-farīd fī-mā baʿd Taʾrīkh Ibn al-ʿAmīd, ed. and trans. E. Blochet, Histoire des Sultans Mamlouks, in PO 14/3, 19/3, 20 (1919– 29). Ibn Aybak al-Dawādārī, Kanz al-durar wa-jāmiʿ al-ghurar, vol. 8, ed. U. Haarmann, Cairo 1971. Ibn Aybak al-Dawādārī, Kanz al-durar wa-jāmiʿ al-ghurar, vol. 9, ed. H.R. Roemer, Cairo 1960. Ibn al-Furāt, Taʾrīkh al-duwal wa-l-mulūk, ed. Q. Zurayq et al., 4 vols., Beirut 1936–42. Ibn Kathīr, al-Bidāya wa-l-nihāya fī l-taʾrīkh, 14 vols., Beirut 1993. Ibn Shaddād, Taʾrīkh al-Malik al-Ẓāhir, ed. A. Ḥuṭayṭ, Wiesbaden 1983. al-Jazarī, Taʾrīkh Ibn al-Jazarī l-musammā Ḥawādith al-zamān wa-anbāʾihi wa-wafayāt

careers in diplomacy among mamluks and mongols

299

al-akābir wa-l-aʿyān min abnāʾihi l-maʿrūf bi-Taʾrīkh Ibn al-Jazarī, ed. ʿU.ʿA. al-S. Tadmurī, 3 vols., Sidon and Beirut 1998. al-Maqrīzī, Kitāb al-Sulūk li-maʿrifat duwal al-mulūk, ed. M.M. Amīn and S.ʿA. al-F. ʿĀshūr, 4 vols. in 12 parts, Cairo 1934–73. Niẓām al-Mulk, The book of government or rules for kings: The Siyar al-Muluk or Siyasatnama of Nizam al-Mulk, trans. H. Darke, London and Boston 1978. al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab fī funūn al-adab, vols. 27, 29–33, Cairo 1985–97. Qāshānī, Taʾrīkh-i pādshāh-i saʿīd Ghiyāth al-Dunyā wa-l-Dīn Uljaytu Sulṭān Muḥammad, ed. M. Hambly, Tehran 1969. Rashīd al-Dīn, Rashiduddin Fazlullah’s Jami‘u’t-tawariḫ: Compendium of chronicles: A history of the Mongols, trans. and annotated W.M. Thackston, 3 vols., Boston 1998. al-Ṣafadī, Aʿyān al-ʿaṣr wa-aʿwān al-naṣr, ed. ʿA. Abū Zayd et al., Beirut and Damascus 1998. Shāfiʿ b. ʿAlī, al-Faḍl al-maʾthūr min sīrat al-Malik al-Manṣūr, ed. ʿU.ʿA. al-S. Tadmurī, Beirut 1998. Shāfiʿ b. ʿAlī, Ḥusn al-manāqib al-sirriyya al-muntazaʿa min al-sīra al-Ẓāhiriyya, ed. ʿA. al-ʿA. Khuwayṭir, Riyadh 1989. al-Shujāʿī, Taʾrīkh al-Malik al-Nāṣir Muḥammad b. Qalāwūn al-Ṣālihī wa-awlādihi, ed. Barbara Schäfer, Wiesbaden 1977. al-Ṣuqāʿī, Tālī Kitāb Wafāyāt al-aʿyān, ed. and trans. J. Sublet, Damascus 1974. Vaṣṣāf, Tajziyyat al-amṣār wa-tazjiyyat al-aʿṣār, ed. J. Hammer-Purghstall, Geschichte Vaṣṣāf’s, Persisch herausegegeben und Deutsch übersetzt, Vienna 1856. Vaṣṣāf, Taʾrīkh-i Vaṣṣāf al-Ḥaẓra, Tehran 1956. Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muʿjam al-buldān, 4 vols., Beirut 1955–7. al-Yūnīnī, Dhayl Mirʾāt al-zamān, 4 vols., Hyderabad 1954–61. al-Yūnīnī, Dhayl Mirʾāt al-zamān, ed. and trans. L. Guo, Early Mamluk historiography: al-Yūnīnī’s Dhayl Mirʾāt al-zamān, 2 vols., Leiden 1998. al-Yūsufī, Nuzhat al-nāẓir fī sīrat al-Malik al-Nāṣir, ed. A. Ḥuṭayṭ, Beirut 1986.

Secondary Sources Allouche, A., Tegüder’s ultimatum to Qalawun, in IJMES 22 (1990), 437–46. Amitai, R., Mamluks of Mongol origin and their role in early Mamluk political life, in MSR 12/1 (2008), 119–37. Amitai, R., Resolution of the Mamluk-Mongol war, in Amitai and M. Biran (eds.), Mongols, Turks and others: Eurasian nomads and the sedentary world, Leiden and Boston 2005, 359–90. Amitai-Preiss, R., An exchange of letters in Arabic between Abaγa Īlḫān and Sultan Baybars (A.H.667/A.D.1268–69), in CAJ 38/1 (1994), 11–33. Amitai-Preiss, R., Mongols and Mamluks: The Mamluk-Īlḫānid war, 1260–1281, Cambridge 1995.

300

broadbridge

Ayalon, D., L’Esclavage du Mamlouk, Jerusalem 1951, repr. in The Mamluk Military Society, London 1979. Ayalon, D., Studies on the structure of the Mamluk army, BSOAS XV/2 & 3 (1953), XVI/1 (1954). Reprinted in Ayalon, Studies on the Mamluks of Egypt, London 1977, Article I. Ayalon, D., The Wafidiyya in the Mamluk kingdom, in IC 25 (1951), 89–109. Repr. in Studies on the Mamlūks of Egypt (1250–1517), London 1977. Biran, M., The Chaghadaids and Islam: The conversion of Tarmashirin Khan (1331–34), in JAOS 122/iv (2002), 742–52. Boyle, J.A., Dynastic and political history of the Il-Ḫans, in Boyle (ed.), The Cambridge history of Iran, vol. V: The Saljuq and Mongol period, Cambridge 1968, 322–35. Broadbridge, A.F., Kingship and ideology in the Islamic and Mongol worlds, Cambridge 2008. Broadbridge, A.F., Sending home for mom and dad: The extended family impulse in Mamluk politics, in MSR 12 (2008), 1–12. Cahen, C., Artuḳids, in EI2, i, 662–7. Holt, P.M., The Īlḫān Aḥmad’s embassies to Qalāwūn: Two contemporary accounts, in BSOAS 49/1 (1986), 128–32. Kedar, B.Z., Segurano-Sakrān Salvaygo: un mercante genovese al servizio dei sultani mamalucchi, c. 1303–1322, in Kedar, The Franks and the Levant, 11th to 14th centuries, Aldershot, Hampshire, and Brookfield VT 1993, 75–91. Levanoni, A., The ḥalqah in the Mamluk army, in MSR XI (2011), 37–65. Little, D., Notes on Aytamiš, a Mongol Mamlūk, in Ulrich Haarmann and Peter Bachmann (eds.), Die islamische Welt zwischen Mittelalter und Neuzeit: Festschrift für Hans Robert Roemer zum 65. Geburtstag, Wiesbaden 1979, 387–401; repr. in Little, History and historiography of the Mamlūks, London 1986. May, T., The Mongol conquests in world history, London 2012. Mazor, A., The Manṣūrīyah legacy: The Manṣūrī amirs, their mamluks, and their descendants during al-Nāṣir Muḥammad’s third reign and after, in MSR 18 (2014–5), 1–56. Mazor, A., The rise and fall of a Muslim regiment: The Manṣūrīyya in the first Mamluk sultanate, 678/1279–741/1341, Göttingen 2015. Melville, Ch., ‘Sometimes by the sword, sometimes by the dagger’: The role of the Isma‘ilis in Mamlūk-Mongol relations in the 8th/14th century, in F. Daftary (ed.), Mediaeval Isma‘ili history and thought, New York 1996, 247–63. Nakamachi, N., The rank and status of military refugees in the Mamluk army: A reconsideration of the Wāfidīyah, in MSR 10/1 (2006), 55–81. Pfeiffer, J., Conversion to Islam among the Ilkhans in Muslim narrative traditions: The case of Aḥmad Tegüder, 2 vols., PhD dissertation, University of Chicago 2003. Pfeiffer, J., Reflections on a ‘double rapprochement’: Conversion to Islam among the Mongol elite during the early Ilḫanate, in L. Komaroff (ed.), Beyond the legacy of Genghis Ḫan, Leiden 2006, 369–89.

careers in diplomacy among mamluks and mongols

301

Rabbat, N., The changing concept of Mamlūk in the Mamluk sultanate in Egypt and Syria, in M. Toru and J.E. Philips, Slave elites in the Middle East and Africa: A comparative study, London and New York 2000. Van Steenbergen, J., Order out of chaos: Patronage, conflict and Mamluk socio-political culture, 1341–1382, Leiden 2006.

chapter 7

The Golden Horde and the Mamluks: the Birth of a Diplomatic Set-Up (660–5/1261–7) Marie Favereau

Notable studies have been published on the relations between the Mongols and the Mamluks.1 Yet very few directly concern the exchanges between the Jöchids—khans of the westernmost part of the Chinggisid Empire—and their allies, the Mamluk sultans of Egypt and Syria.2 From the mid-seventh/midthirteenth to the mid-ninth/mid-fifteenth century, letters, presents, and goods were regularly exchanged and people used to travel from one territory to another. Slaves, civil administrators, warriors, traders, women, poets, and scholars went from the Golden Horde to the sultanate;3 Muslim literati, jurists, and traders left the sultanate for the khan’s court. Diplomatic missions were an important channel for the transmission of luxury goods—in particular through the circulation of gifts expected and even demanded by rulers and elite members—but also of technical skills, knowledge, and court fashion.4 Jöchids and Mamluks established agreements most likely related to written statements. The diplomatic letters themselves were sometimes considered as proof of agreement. These agreements were valid for a certain period, usually a ruler’s lifetime. A new sovereign would renegotiate the terms of the alliance according to his own background and the new political situation. Diplomatic clashes between Mamluks and Jöchids and periods of hiatus, when the network was disrupted, occurred a few times. So we should not consider the

1 Among a long list of titles, I would mention two significant works which were key to my research: Amitai-Preiss, Mongols and Mamluks, and Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology. 2 As far as I know, the only monographs entirely dedicated to the study of the diplomatic relations between Mamluks and Jöchids are Zakirov, Diplomatičeskie otnošenija and al-Khūlī, Ṣilāt. Many Arabic sources were not available to the authors at that time, and their works, as valuable as they are, need to be updated. 3 Eckmann, The Mamluk Qipchaq Literature. 4 For the exchange of gifts between the Golden Horde and the Mamluk sultanate, see BehrensAbouseif, Practising diplomacy 28, 32, 61–5. For further discussion of diplomats in general, I refer the reader to Broadbridge’s article in this volume.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2019 | doi:10.1163/9789004384637_008

the golden horde and the mamluks

303

Mamluk-Jöchid relationship a single, long-lasting alliance but a succession of silent periods and active exchanges. Obviously their complex ties went beyond simple cordial relations, and tensions between the two courts were palpable. More effort should be put into the reconstruction of these exchanges, with particular focus on nodal periods (visible through the high volume of diplomatic activity). The reasons these two societies enjoyed relations and exchanges over the long run were complex and changed over time. The historical reconstruction of the entire period raises many questions, and the details of the Mamluk-Jöchid diplomacy are either yet to be uncovered or remain disputed. Did the fact that Mamluks and Jöchids shared common interests—the same enemies, for instance—remain the essential cornerstone of their diplomatic relations? Were they also seeking something else? What was the degree of mutual formal and organized contact? What was the level of formalization of their exchanges? In other words, can we speak of a “foreign policy” that went beyond the personal investment of a single ruler? The total volume of these exchanges is high. For a period of approximately 170 years, leaving apart the dubious or ambiguous mentions, we can identify almost 80 missions. Times of intense diplomatic activity witnessed continuous reciprocal traffic: the Mamluk envoys sent to the khan came back to the sultan accompanied by Jöchid messengers who carried the answer of their ruler and vice versa. By reconstructing the chronology of these exchanges and carefully investigating key moments we should be able to clarify the motivations of the successive alliances set up by the Jöchids and the Mamluks. The contents of their letters, available through the Arabic sources, provide concrete information about political and military issues. The careful reading of these sources, in which the names of the envoys, the list of gifts exchanged, and the transcription of the oral report transmitted by the ambassadors are often mentioned, allows us to penetrate the formal conventions and understand the practical side of the Mamluk-Jöchid contacts. The diplomatic interplay began precisely in 660 (between November 1261 and October 1262), the year the first letter from Cairo was sent, and ended in the 830s/1430s. By the mid-ninth/mid-fifteenth century, the Ottomans controlled the Black Sea and conquered Constantinople and the Bosphorus strait. The khans lost control of the trade roads, and the means of communication between the Golden Horde and the Mamluks, via the Crimean Peninsula, were cut. The Giray khans based in the Crimea, torn between the Grand Duchy of Lithuania and the Ottomans, were not able to pursue a diplomatic and economic alliance on their own with the Mamluks.

304

favereau

On the basis of the volume of letters exchanged during the entire period, we can isolate nodal periods during which the intensity of the exchanges reveals how crucial the alliance was for each party. Three key periods can be highlighted: 1. Berke and Baybars: The beginnings (660–5/1261–7) 2. Özbek and al-Nāṣir Muḥammad: Crisis and disagreements (711–41/1312– 41) 3. Toqtamish and al-Ẓāhir Barqūq: The last alliance (784–801/1382–99) In this paper I focus on the beginnings. Indeed, during the rules of Berke and Baybars the foundations of the Golden Horde and the Mamluk sultanate were laid down, and the legitimacy of the two courts was first elaborated. I emphasize the crucial role of diplomacy in this process, especially as the Jöchid-Mamluk alliance connected three worlds: the Byzantine Empire, the dār al-Islām, and the Mongol Empire. After briefly introducing the nature of the sources and the debate they generate, I pay attention, first, to the factors motivating each side to seek allies, and, second, to the diplomatic set-up, which means the framework within which Jöchids and Mamluks communicated (the identity of the messengers, the diplomatic letters, the practicalities of travel). The outcome of this succinct study should provide some concrete information regarding the birth of the Jöchid-Mamluk relationship (how, who, when, why) and clarify in what terms and to what extent this first alliance was formalized.

1

The Sources

Most historical studies tend to focus on the Mamluk position. The khan’s intentions appear almost secondary. This imbalance is generated by the sources themselves: even if the original letters were not preserved, copies of some of them were recorded by the secretaries of the Mamluk chancery and included in chronicles, chancery manuals, and works of inshāʾ literature. The academic literature is based on the summarized Arabic versions of the letters. The fact that we do not have the original Jöchid versions raises questions concerning the content of their copies as registered by the Mamluk secretaries. The Jöchid missives were written in Turkish, Persian, Arabic or Mongolian; they were then summarized in Arabic and included in official works. How can we know that these copies truly reflected the Jöchids’ messages? How should we deal with the strong bias of the Cairo-centric view?5 Can we still rely on these sources? I am inclined to think so. 5 Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 4.

the golden horde and the mamluks

305

Mamluk sources are precious for the study of the Golden Horde. They are almost the only “pro-Jöchid sources” we know of. Because the first task of a diplomatic mission was to gather and register such information, secretaries and Mamluk historians really meant to record concrete and reliable details about the khans’ environment: ruling figures, dynastic history, political achievements and plans, languages spoken at court, geographical descriptions, etc. This material is especially useful in reconstructing the chronology of the exchanges between Baybars and Berke: Who opened the diplomatic friendship? What reasons were officially offered? When did it occur? To counterbalance the fact that there are no sources left on the Jöchid side, we have to take the events into account: exchanges occurred and missions were sent. The simple fact that the Jöchids sent ambassadors to the Mamluks means they cared. Disputes over dates and confusion are common in the Mamluk sources, especially concerning the first and second missions sent by Berke. Among the authors of the texts who recorded mentions and abstracts of letters, Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir (620–92/1223–93) enjoys a prominent place thanks to his privileged position as Baybars’s personal secretary and biographer. The basics—in terms of facts and chronology—are given in his official biography of the sultan, alRawḍ al-zāhir fī sīrat al-Malik al-Ẓāhir, which may be complemented by the narratives of Ibn Aybak al-Dawādārī (d. ca. 736/1335), Shāfiʿ b. ʿAlī (649–730/1252– 1330), Baybars al-Manṣūrī (645–725/1245–1325), al-Yūnīnī (640–726/1242–1326), al-Nuwayrī (677–733/1279–1333), al-Dhahabī (673–748 or 753/1274–1348 or 1352– 3), Ibn Abī l-Faḍāʾil (d. after the completion of his work, in 759/1358), Ibn Kathīr (ca. 700–74/ca. 1300–73), Ibn al-Furāt (735–807/1334–1405), al-Maqrīzī (766– 845/1364–1442), and al-ʿAynī (762–855/1361–1451).6 A closer look shows that the vast majority of the Mamluk sources relied on Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir’s work for information on the first alliance between the Mamluks and the Jöchids. Yet all the divergent and more detailed versions deserve our attention. For instance, Ibn Abī l-Faḍāʾil, al-Yūnīnī, and Ibn Aybak al-Dawādārī obviously relied on another source, most probably Ibn Shaddād, who offers details on Baybars’s rule that are not to be found in al-Rawḍ al-zāhir.7 Unfortunately, the first volume of his biography of the sultan is lost and was only partially copied by al-Yūnīnī. Moreover, it is quite possible that another version of al-Rawḍ al-zāhir was available

6 Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir; Ibn Aybak al-Dawādārī, Kanz al-durar; Shāfiʿ, Ḥusn almanāqib; Baybars al-Manṣūrī, al-Tuḥfat al-mulūkiyya; Baybars al-Manṣūrī, Zubdat al-fikra; al-Yūnīnī, Dhayl; al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab; al-Dhahabī, Duwal al-islām; Ibn Abī l-Faḍāʾil, al-Nahj al-sadīd; Ibn Kathīr, al-Bidāya wa-l-nihāya; Ibn al-Furāt, Taʾrīkh al-duwal; al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk; al-ʿAynī, ʿIqd al-jumān. 7 Ibn Shaddād, Taʾrīkh.

306

favereau

in the eighth/fourteenth century. Indeed, Ibn Aybak al-Dawādārī, al-Yūnīnī, al-Nuwayrī, and Ibn Abī l-Faḍāʾil mention that they quote al-Rawḍ al-zāhir through the transmission of Ibn Shaddād8—either these were in fact additions made by Ibn Shaddād or the version of al-Rawḍ al-zāhir he used was more complete than the one we have at hand.

2

The Reasons to Form an Alliance

In 660, between November 1261 and October 1262, Baybars entrusted his first letter for Berke to Alan merchants (ʿAllān). The sultan congratulated the khan on his recent conversion to Islam and exhorted him to fight Hülegü in the name of jihād. The war against a common enemy and the defense of Islam were the two reasons offered to justify the establishment of an alliance.9 The texts of all the letters exchanged during this first sequence stress the connection between the military fight and the Islamic faith. Yet if we look at the crucial events of the year 660/1261–2, what predominates is not the conversion of Berke but the military conflicts between the khan and Hülegü. Indeed, Baybars’s decision had nothing to do with the recent conversion of Berke—who had been a well-known Muslim for more than ten years— but with the fact that the khan launched a first attack against Hülegü’s positions during the winter of 659–60/1261–2. In a few weeks Berke’s army reached the fortress of Derbent, went further south and took the fortress of Shirvan within Hülegü’s domain—their common border was situated at the Terek River.10 On 2 Shawwāl 660/20 August 1262, Hülegü left the city of Ala-tag, northeast of Lake Van, to travel to Shirvan. On 27 Dhū l-Qaʿda 660/13 October 1262, a group of two hundred Jöchid warriors arrived at Damascus. This group—called in the Arabic sources wāfidūn or wāfidiyya (“refugees”)—was fleeing Hülegü’s troops. They showed a written order from the khan and asked for the protection of the Mamluk sultan. Baybars welcomed them in Cairo on 24 Dhū l-Ḥijja 660/10 November 1262.11 The groundwork for the first Jöchid-Mamluk alliance was set. 8 9

10

11

For instance, Ibn Aybak al-Dawādārī, Kanz al-durar 99; al-Yūnīnī, Dhayl i, 540; al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab 105; Ibn Abī l-Faḍāʾil, al-Nahj al-sadīd 456–8. Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir 88–9; Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 51. Hülegü (d. 1265) was the brother of the great khans Möngke (r. 1251–9) and Qubilai (r. 1260–94). In 1251, he was put in charge of the new Chinggisid conquests to the west. The fortress of Shirvan (or Shabran) is still visible near the modern city of Shabran and should not be confused with the modern city of Shirvan located south of Baku, in presentday Azerbaijan. Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir 137–9; Abū Shāma, Tarājim 220; Ibn Aybak al-Dawādārī,

the golden horde and the mamluks

307

At exactly the same time the Jöchids were expelled from Shirvan (30 Dhū lḤijja 660/14 November 1262). On 24 Muḥarram 661/8 December 1262, Hülegü arrived before Derbent, which was occupied by the khan’s vanguard.12 He took the fortress back, crossed the Terek River and chased the Jöchid army, plundering its encampments. Berke retaliated. On 1 Rabīʿ I 661/13 January 1263, his army pushed Hülegü’s troops beyond Shirvan. The khan stopped at that point and went back to the Volga valley. For almost a year there was no fighting.13 The conflict was still in its first stage, and both sides were making preparations to resume battle. It was precisely during this “truce” that Berke sent his first diplomatic mission to Baybars. His messengers arrived in Cairo on 11 Rajab 661/21 May 1263 along with Seljuq envoys. The joint military plan required that Mamluks and Jöchids provide troops to the Seljuq sultan ʿIzz al-Dīn Kaykāʾūs in his fight against his brother Qilij Arslān who was supported by Hülegü.14 Yet if the Jöchids decided to side with the Mamluks, the alliance involved more than military logistics. Internal and external legitimacies came into play. At that time, the Mamluk sultanate and the Golden Horde were young political formations. The rulers themselves were newcomers on the throne: Berke arrived in 656/1258 and Baybars in 658/1260. They had to deal with legitimacy issues; Berke was not the favorite of his brother and predecessor Batu (d. 1255); nor was he the first choice of the Great Khan Möngke (d. 1259).15 As for Baybars, he had to kill his predecessor Quṭuz (r. 657–8/1259–60), the military leader who won the greatest Mamluk victory against the Mongols at the battle of ʿAyn Jālūt. Moreover, he was not originally a Mamluk of the Baḥriyya, the household of alMalik al-Ṣāliḥ II Najm al-Dīn Ayyūb, but a slave bought by the amir ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn al-Bunduqdār.16 In this context of war against Hülegü, the khan and the sultan

12 13 14

15 16

Kanz al-durar 90–1; Ibn Abī l-Faḍāʾil, al-Nahj al-sadīd 442–3; al-Yūnīnī, Dhayl i, 487, 496– 7; Ayalon, The Wafidiya; Amitai-Preiss, Mongols and Mamluks 106, 108–9; Nobutaka, The rank and status; Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 52; Amitai, Mamluks of Mongol origin. Rashīd al-Dīn, Histoire 398–9. Rashīd al-Dīn, Histoire 392–9. Ibn Abī l-Faḍāʾil, al-Nahj al-sadīd 452–3; al-Yūnīnī, Dhayl i, 533–4, ii, 194–5; Ibn Kathīr, alBidāya wa-l-nihāya 238; al-Dhahabī, Duwal al-islām i, 97, 167; al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab 87–8. Also Zakirov, Diplomatičeskie otnošenija 50, who gave an incorrect date based on Baybars al-Manṣūrī and al-Maqrīzī. Favereau and Raymond, La Horde d’ Or 104–5. Shāfiʿ b. ʿAlī, the nephew of the sultan’s biographer Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, explains that the period preceding the admission of Baybars into al-Ṣāliḥ II Ayyūb’s household was not detailed in his official biography (al-Rawḍ al-zāhir) “out of respect” for the sultan (ijlālan lahu): Shāfiʿ, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir 57–8.

308

favereau

needed each other’s support because of their personal situations. Both have to be taken into consideration to understand what was at stake. 2.1 Baybars’s Situation The Battle of ʿAyn Jālūt (north of Jerusalem) took place on 25 Ramaḍān 658/ 3 September 1260. The Mamluks led by the Sultan Quṭuz opposed the Mongols led by Hülegü’s commander Kitbughā.17 The Chinggisids were defeated, marking a crucial step in the regional balance of power that was until that point favorable to the Mongols. Their advance in the West was restrained for the first time since the fall of the major Islamic clusters in Central Asia, in Iran, and in the Middle East (the Khwarizmshahs, the Abbasids, and the Nizārī-Ismāʿīlīs had been dismantled). It was a badly-needed Islamic victory, put under the banner of the Mamluks. Most of the Mamluks came from Turkic nomadic families living in the western part of the Eurasian steppes, the region between the Volga and the Black Sea called Dasht-i Qipchaq. Military slavery had distinctive features that allowed successful candidates access to high status functions. A Mamluk at the peak of his career was an elite member freed from slavery. The Mamluks who took power in Egypt and Syria were mainly part of the household of the last great Ayyubid sultan al-Ṣāliḥ II Ayyūb (r. 637–47/1240–9).18 Baybars had been recently recruited as a Baḥriyya member, and he was only one of the Mamluk amirs fighting at ʿAyn Jālūt. After the battle, on his way to Cairo, the Sultan Quṭuz was murdered. Baybars, who claimed to be the head of the plot, ascended to the throne after taking the role of the hero of ʿAyn Jālūt.19 He had to show that he was not only the victorious combatant of the crusaders, as he proved himself to be at the battle of al-Manṣūra, but also a viable challenger to the Chinggisids. In his letters to the khan, the new sultan called for jihād against Hülegü and the non-Muslim Mongols.20 For that purpose, however, he needed more mamlūks. The regular routes used at the time of their predecessors, the last Ayyubids, crossed the sultanate of Rūm. Key markets such as Sivas were located there, and Turkmen and Seljuq merchants made deals with the Qipchaq traders living on the other side of the Black Sea, in the Crimea.21 Yet 17 18 19

20 21

On the Battle of ʿAyn Jālūt, see Amitai-Preiss, Mongols and Mamluks 26–48. This should not be seen as exceptional, from 602/1206 Mamluks were on the throne in what we call the Delhi sultanate. Haarmann, Regicide; Flinterman, Killing and kinging. When al-Ṣāliḥ II Ayyūb died, his son did not want to keep the Mamluk contingents of his father, which is likely the main reason why they rebelled. Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir 88–9, 139–40. Ibn al-Athīr, The chronicle 113 (602/1205–6); Martin, The land of darkness 404–5. About the

the golden horde and the mamluks

309

when Baybars became sultan, in 658/1260, the Anatolian section of the trade circuit transporting military slaves from the Qipchaq steppes to Syria and Egypt was in the hands of Hülegü. Baybars had to find a way to bypass the Seljuq roads and the Turkmen intermediaries. He had to shape a new itinerary and to secure it by military and diplomatic means. 2.2 Berke’s Situation Why would Berke allow Baybars to buy young men whom he potentially needed in his own armies? Berke never had the support of the great khan. When Batu died at the end of 1255 or beginning of 1256, the great khan Möngke wanted Sartaq, the eldest son of Batu, on the throne in accordance with the rules of succession that tended to prevail among the Chinggisids.22 After Sartaq died, a few months after his election, Möngke asked that Sartaq’s son, Ulaghči, become khan. Ulaghči died at the end of 1257 (or beginning of 1258). Only then did Berke ascend the throne. He was the aġa (eldest) of the Jöchids. But his mother was only a secondary wife of Jöchi—a daughter of the Khwarizmshah—so his pedigree was not as prestigious as Batu, Sartaq, and Ulaghči.23 Thus Möngke seemed reluctant to see Berke become khan of the Jöchid ulus (domain). The fact that he was Muslim while most of the Jöchid princes were Christians or Buddhists might have played a role as well, not in terms of faith but of personal network. Berke had links with members of the Khwarizmian royal family (his mother was a daughter of the Khwarizmshah) and connections with the rulers of the Dehli sultanate who refused to pledge allegiance to the Chinggisids.24 Once on the throne, Berke nevertheless had to obey the great khan’s orders and follow the imperial agenda.25 Hülegü, the great khan’s brother, was leading the new Chinggisid conquests to the West. He was put in charge of the lands on the southern and western frontiers of the Golden Horde, which later constituted the territorial basis of the ilkhanate. In the name of the great khan, Hülegü was about to constitute his own ulus, which might potentially become

22

23 24 25

routes passing through Sivas and competing itineraries, see Heyd, Histoire du commerce ii, 93, 112–22. The children of the chief wife had precedence in succession (Juvaynī, Genghis Khan 40). The decision to give the succession to Sartaq was apparently first taken by Batu (Allsen, Mongol imperialism 136–7; Jackson, The dissolution 223). On Berke’s origins, see Richard, La Conversion; Favereau, Comment le sultan mamlouk 63. On Berke’s attempt to set up an alliance with the Negūderis (or Qara’unas), enemies of Hülegü, see Jackson, The dissolution 239–44. Allsen, Mongol imperialism 61–3, 104.

310

favereau

more powerful than the Jöchid ulus. Berke saw the danger immediately. Hülegü was threatening the Jöchid positions in western and central Asia.26 In 654/1256 what Claude Cahen called the “second invasion” of the Seljuq sultanate began; this had much deeper consequences than the battle of Köse Dagh.27 Because the Mongols had huge armies and needed as much grassland as possible for their horses and cattle, Hülegü again ordered the general Baiju to enter the eastern Anatolian lands and take possession of the pasture lands used by the Seljuq nomads; this eventually led to a long-term military occupation of the area by Hülegü’s men.28 The Seljuq sultanate was strategic to the Mongols, who aimed at controlling the Ayyubid and the Abbasid territories. The control of the Turkmen populations and the supervision of their trade networks were also at stake.29 The Chinggisids patronized the political division of the sultanate of Rūm. ʿIzz al-Dīn was the sultan in charge of the eastern territory while his brother was sultan of the western side.30 A few months after the Mongol conquest of Syria, in 658/1260, ʿIzz al-Dīn was discharged by Hülegü while his brother Qilij Arslān IV was maintained on the Seljuq throne.31 Yet ʿIzz al-Dīn was under the protection of Berke, and his banishment detonated the hostilities instigated by the khan. During the winter 660/1261–2, Berke broke with the Mongol Empire by declaring war on Hülegü.32 After the death of the great khan Möngke on 12 August 1259, the underlying tensions among the Chinggisids turned into open conflicts. Hülegü’s brother, Qubilai, took power. His election was contested, and he had to fight another pretender, his brother Arigh Böke. This war

26

27 28 29 30

31 32

According to the chronicle of Herat, from 656/1258, the relationship between Hülegü and the Jöchid princes Balgha and Tutar was very tense, both sides claiming priority on the affairs of Herat. Hülegü eventually managed to chase and kill the Jöchids (Haravī, Tārīkhnāma-yi Harāt 260–76). I would like to express my thanks to Dr. Yihao Qiu who gave me this information. Cahen, Kaykāʾūs 814. Cahen, Pre-Ottoman Turkey 275–6; Amitai-Preiss, Mongols and Mamluks 157–9. Cahen, Pre-Ottoman Turkey 283. Richard, Byzance 87; Darley-Doran, Sald̲ jū̲ ḳids 975–6. Sivas was dominated by Qilij Arslān IV, while Konya and the western part of the sultanate fell under the power of ʿIzz al-Dīn. Yet the real master was the Great Khan Möngke via his main representative, his brother Hülegü (Cahen, Pre-Ottoman Turkey 277–8) who expected both Seljuq sultans to take an active part in future campaigns in Iraq and Syria (Cahen, Kaykāʾūs 814). Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 31–2, 54, 55. This is the most probable date despite a lot of debate on that point in the historiography. See Jackson, The dissolution 233–4; Amitai-Preiss, Mongols and Mamluks 79; Favereau, Comment le sultan mamlouk 64–7. For the sources, see Polo, La Description du monde 327–32; Rashīd al-Dīn, Histoire 358–61, 390–401, 404–15.

the golden horde and the mamluks

311

for succession caused a weakening of the central power, and Berke took the opportunity to claim the full legacy of Batu, which meant rights over Herat, Baghdad, Tabriz, Azerbaijan, and western Anatolia. In the first letter he sent to Baybars in 661/1263, Berke explained the reasons for the clash. Hülegü did not respect the Chinggisid laws: “[he] transgressed Gengis Khan [ yāsa] and the sharīʿa of his people; he aimed only at killing men with hate.”33 For Berke, the protection and propagation of Islam were also at stake: […] I, together with my four brothers, stood up and fought him from all sides for the sake of reviving the light of Islam and returning the abodes of the True Religion to their old state of prosperity and to the mention of the Name of God, the call to prayer, the reading of the Quran, prayer, and avenging the Imams and the Muslim community.34 The khan, therefore, asked the sultan to support the Seljuq ʿIzz al-Dīn, who was at that time in exile in Constantinople. Berke proposed that Baybars send troops to the Euphrates to stop Hülegü’s military operations and trap him between their two armies. They would share the conquered lands, but the Abbasid domain would be given to Baybars.35 Indeed the Abbasid and Seljuq legacies were at stake, and they were the greatest in this part of the dār alIslām.36 Negotiations concerning the allotment of the Seljuq territory were underway. According to Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, ʿIzz al-Dīn promised Baybars half of

33

34 35

36

Indeed Hülegü challenged the Jöchids in territories that were previously allotted to them, and he interfered with the distribution of taxes and tributes (for instance, Ibn Abī l-Faḍāʾil, al-Nahj al-sadīd 444–6). Ayalon, The great Yāsa (B) 172. About this first mission sent by Berke, see Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir 171, quoted almost literally by al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab 87. For a divergent version, possibly based on Ibn Shaddād, see Ibn Abī l-Faḍāʾil, al-Nahj al-sadīd 452–3; al-Yūnīnī, Dhayl i, 534, ii, 195; and Ibn Aybak al-Dawādārī, Kanz al-durar 97. As for Baybars al-Manṣūrī, Zubdat al-fikra 83, he mixed the texts of the two first letters sent by Berke. I proposed a reconstructed version of the text of the letter in Favereau, Pervoe pis’mo. Also Ayalon, The great Yāsa (B) 167–72; Amitai-Preiss, Mongols and Mamluks 82–3; Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 53–4. I doubt that the Jöchids were ready to accept so easily the Mamluks’ claim on the Abbasid caliphate, and perhaps some arrangements to share this crucial heritage were under negotiation as well. The Mamluk sources are obviously silent on a possible claim that Berke could be associated with the caliphate. Yet a sign of such an association might be that the name Berke was said during the Friday prayer in Medina, Mecca, and Jerusalem (Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir 174), and previously in the regions of ʿAjam, Mā warāʾ al-Nahr and Khurasan (Jūzjānī, Ṭabaqāt-i Nāṣirī 1285, 1292–3).

312

favereau

his kingdom if they were victorious. However, the Jöchids openly made claims on the Seljuq domain and on all the territories conquered by Baiju when he was in the service of Batu (in 1242–3).37 In his letter Berke argued that the realm of the Seljuqs of Rūm in eastern Anatolia and the Transcaucasian regions should remain within the Jöchid ulus.38 Tensions between the Jöchids and Mamluks over the Seljuq realm would never arise because Hülegü and later the Ilkhanids would control the lands. Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir suggests that Berke was asking Baybars for the caliph’s recognition of his status as sultan.39 The importance of the caliphal institution was emphasized for obvious reasons in the official discourse of the Mamluks, and one wonders to what extent the khan really needed this support. I am inclined to think that Berke was keen to consolidate his position as a Muslim ruler. Territorial claims did not mean that the khan had the means to fight his enemy. Compared to Hülegü, Berke was militarily and politically weak. Hülegü was the loyal deputy of the great khans Möngke and Qubilai and could legitimately fight back; besides he had at his disposal more troops than did the khan.40 The Jöchids were isolated and were eager to strengthen their position. Without external support they could not hope to win against Hülegü. Berke’s alliance with Baybars—hence with the caliph—should be read in this perspective; it was strategic politically and militarily. He was counting on the alliance with the Qipchaq sultans (the main rebels to the Chinggisid cause) in Cairo and in Delhi, and the Jöchid court was soon open to the nebula of administrators and officers who fled the court of the Khwarizmshah.41 In the 1260s the last generation of veterans who had fought under the banners of Chinggis Khān disappeared. Baiju, one of the key figures of the western campaigns, died in 1260

37

38 39

40

41

Baiju, appointed chief commander of the Chinggisid troops in western Asia in 1242, was then under Batu’s authority. He later passed under the orders of Möngke (Jackson, The dissolution 216–9; Allsen, Mongol imperialism 49, 177). It was commonly thought that the region of Rūm was a Jöchid conquest and that Baiju was on their side (for a clear statement, see al-ʿAynī, ed. Tizengauzen, ʿIqd al-jumān 476). In the text of his biography all the episodes about the diplomatic exchanges with Berke are connected to sections emphasizing the role of the caliph. On the importance of the caliphal institution for Baybars, see Broadbridge, Mamluk legitimacy; Aigle, The Mongol empire 221–43. According to Polo, La Description du monde 329–30, Hülegü had 300,000 men against the Jöchid khan’s 350,000. Allsen rightly questioned the plausibility of these totals. It is hard to believe that Berke had more men than Hülegü, who was in charge of the conquests (Allsen, Mongol imperialism 203–7). The Golden Horde was then the main Islamic power of the area and Berke preferred to rely on faithful Turkī secretaries rather than on Uyghur secretaries sent by Qubilai.

the golden horde and the mamluks

313

or 1261. For the Jöchids, the alliance with the Mamluks coincided with a shift from legitimacy based on conquest to legitimacy based on Islam—the passing from one generation to another. 2.3 Agreements From the summer of 659/1261 on, it was vital for Baybars to find a clear arrangement on the transit of young boys through the Bosphorus as soon as possible. In August 1261, Michael VIII (r. 1259–82) had just recovered Constantinople from the heirs of the fourth crusade—who had established “the Latin empire”—and had re-established the Byzantine Empire with the help of the Genoese. The Venetians and the crusaders were expelled from the Black Sea. To make his victory complete, Michael VIII was disposed to open the Bosphorus to merchant ships carrying slaves for the sultan, hence providing the alternative route the Mamluks needed. It was not by chance that one of the first diplomatic letters of Baybars—even before his attempt to contact Berke—was to the new Byzantine emperor Michael VIII. In Dhū l-Ḥijja 660–Ṣafar 661/November–December 1262, when Baybars sent his second mission to Berke, it was clear that the agreement had already been concluded.42 Indeed, when the Mamluk messengers on their way to the Golden Horde arrived at Constantinople, Michael VIII hastened to send a letter to Baybars to confirm that the mission was safe—as this was part of a deal they had set up.43 The first mission sent by Berke to the sultan, which arrived in Jumāda II-Rajab 661/May 1263 in Cairo, was accompanied by Byzantine, Seljuq, and Genoese delegations. The five parties—Mamluks, Genoese, Byzantines, Seljuqs, and Jöchids—were keen to form alliances and conduct business.44 Between the beginning of 661/end of 1262 and the spring of 661/1263, Baybars, the Byzantine emperor, and Berke negotiated a first agreement about the purchase of young men coming from the Qipchaq steppes. The future mamluks were to be shipped through the Bosphorus strait to bypass the Anatolian land routes controlled by Hülegü. In exchange the khan received gifts from the sultanate and collected taxes on the trade; moreover, he was recognized as sultan by the new Abbasid caliph, who was being hosted in Cairo in close association

42

43

44

On the basis of the Mamluk and Byzantine sources—mostly listed in Dölger, Regesten 40, nos. 1902–4. According to Amitai, the agreement was most likely concluded in Shaʿbān 660/July 1262 (Amitai-Preiss, Mongols and Mamluks 91). It was in all likelihood a written agreement: the text was displayed by Baybars in Ramaḍān 662/July 1264 when he was trying to free the Mamluk-Jöchid mission stuck in Constantinople (Amitai-Preiss, Mongols and Mamluks 92). Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir 170–1; Broadbridge Kingship and ideology 53–4.

314

favereau

with Baybars.45 Their friendship with the Mamluks allowed the Jöchids to send their people to the Hijaz to make ḥajj and to be recognized as part of the Muslim elite and as significant members of the dār al-Islām.46 The Mamluk-Jöchid agreement was based on their convergence of interests. It created a good balance between two powers equally in need of each other; their mutual positions were reinforced internally and internationally. In this partnership the weak link was their major intermediary: the Byzantine emperor who blocked the missions at the end of 661/1263 until Hülegü died in 663/1265.47 2.4 Why Did Michael VIII Change Sides? To regain Constantinople and to protect his fragile empire, Michael VIII signed treaties and conventions not only with possible partners but also with potential enemies, all in order to prevent any aggression. The first convention between Michael VIII and Hülegü was set up before the re-conquest of Constantinople, probably in 658/1260 and in any case before the Seljuq sultan ʿIzz al-Dīn fled (at the earliest at the beginning of 659/1261). The agreement concerned the territories in Anatolia: Hülegü would let Michael VIII recover his throne; in exchange the Byzantine emperor would not help the enemies of Hülegü. The emperor sent another mission to Hülegü on the fifteenth of August 1261 to confirm the previous agreement now that he was the new Byzantine emperor.48 Soon after, the Sultan ʿIzz al-Dīn, escaping Hülegü’s men, asked for Michael VIII’s hospitality. At the end of 661/1263, Michael VIII, who was still hosting the Seljuq sultan at court, detained him as a prisoner.49 And he blocked the Mamluk-Jöchid mission carrying a message for Berke. Fearing retaliation by Hülegü—now openly at war with Berke—the emperor decided to prevent the Mamluk-Jöchid-Seljuq plan from being carried out.50 In reprisal Berke commanded his general Nogay

45 46

47 48 49 50

Baybars chose the title qasīm amīr al-muʾminīn (Associate of the Commander of the Believers) to appear in inscriptions and coins. Under the Khan Töde Möngke (r. 1280–7), two faqīhs came to the Mamluk sultan with a letter in Mongol script asking his permission to make ḥajj. The khan also wanted two battle flags or standards, one with the sultan’s name and the other with the caliph’s name (Ibn al-Furāt, Taʾrīkh al-duwal 354). The double-dealing played by Michael VIII was heavily criticized by part of the Byzantine elite: Pachymérès, Relations historiques i, 300–13. Ibid. i, 182–5, 188–9, 234–5; Dölger, Regesten 40, nos. 1900–1. This event occurred at the earliest in August 1263 and at the latest in December 1263 (Pachymérès, Relations historiques i, 184–5). Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir 171–4; Ibn Aybak al-Dawādārī, Kanz al-durar 97–8; Ibn al-Furāt, Taʾrīkh al-duwal 350–2; al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab 88; al-Yūnīnī, Dhayl i, 537, ii, 197; al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk 497–8; Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 54–8.

the golden horde and the mamluks

315

to invade the Byzantine Empire. With the collaboration of the Bulgarian king, they freed the Seljuq sultan ʿIzz al-Dīn, who was under the khan’s protection, and received land grants in the Crimea.51 It took several years and great diplomatic efforts for Michael VIII to regain the trust of the khan. His decision to side with Hülegü in 661/1263 and to break the agreement he had made with Berke and Baybars might sound like a bad political calculation—but at the time, who would have bet on the success of the Jöchids?

3

The Diplomatic Circumstances

3.1 Missions This first sequence of exchanged missions must be understood at a number of levels. We have to take into account the multiple layers that existed in the framework of diplomatic communications (messages, gifts, and court interactions). The diplomatic communiqué itself was a mix of oral and written messages (mushāfaha and mukātaba).52 Most of the time two letters were prepared in different languages (Arabic, Turkish, potentially Persian, and Mongol) for which Arabic and Uygur scripts were used.53 To be sure that the oral message was correctly delivered and that the text of the letters was properly understood, official translators were often needed.54 In addition, gifts, which also constituted messages, were presented. During the diplomatic reception the letters were shown to the ruler, who apparently did not read them. The letters played a very important role, but not so much for their content, which obviously did not reflect the secrets of the geo-political situation. Serious state concerns were discussed with the ruler privately. Then what function did the letters fulfill dur-

51

52

53

54

The sultan never recovered his throne and died in the Golden Horde in 678/1279–80. Ibn Shaddād, Taʾrīkh 77–8; Ibn Bībī, Seljūq-nāme 26; Ibn Bībī, Die Seltschukengeschichte 285; Cahen, Kaykāʾūs 814. The episode of the Byzantine blockade shows the risk of messengers being intercepted and letters being seized and read, hence the crucial role played by the oral message. On this episode, see Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 16–7. The Jöchid chancery used the Uygur script (al-khaṭṭ al-mughulī) until the end of the eighth/fourteenth century (Favereau, Comment le sultan mamlouk 76–80). See also Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 19–20. At the end of the Mamluk-Jöchid period the communication between the two courts became more difficult. When in 832/1429 a mission from the Golden Horde came with two letters, one in Arabic and the other bi-lisān uyghūr (Uygur), the sultan’s secretary alʿAynī complained that within the Mamluk chancery no one was actually able to read the script of the second letter (al-ʿAynī, ed. Tizengauzen, ʿIqd al-jumān 502).

316

favereau

ing diplomatic missions? At each court they were read out publicly in front of the leading amirs. During these official ceremonies, the letters were translated, commented on, and discussed by the vizier or the qāḍī.55 It was not an open gathering, and the target audience was clearly the court attendants. It is important to understand that the recipient of the message was not only the ruler but—and even more—the military and civil elites. These missives expressed political positions and agendas; they contained prospective claims for war and conveyed a clear-cut vision of the rulers of the time (allies, enemies, neutral). They were used to emphasize the legitimacy of both Mamluks and Jöchids and to galvanize elite members against their common enemy—in this case Hülegü. The diplomatic missions involved a large group that included envoys from the two rulers, some traders and translators, and often foreign delegations (Byzantine, Genoese, Venetian, Seljuq) interested in the ongoing cases. The diplomatic communication was a mix of all these voices. The letters themselves played a central role; when the ceremonies were over and the envoys sent away with the answers, the written scrolls of paper (the format of the diplomatic letters) were kept in the chancery’s archives.56 3.2 The Nomadic Connection? One might think that the “Qipchaq connection” functioned as a cultural bond between the two courts.57 Many Mamluks had Turkish-Qipchaq backgrounds and came from the western lands of the Golden Horde. The association between Qipchaqs and Mongols, as one and the same jins (stock), was made during the conquest by the Chinggisids themselves.58 However the khans were not Qipchaq, and the Mongol component—in addition to the Chinggisid one— remained the strongest identity marker at the Jöchid court until the ninth/fifteenth century. Even if the Qipchaq language was used at the orda as one of the spoken and written idioms, it is difficult to know to what extent the khans spoke Turkish in the seventh/thirteenth century and how long they continued to use Mongolian. With this in mind, we cannot deny that the Jöchids and Mamluks shared some cultural characteristics (especially regarding horsemanship and archery). When Baybars welcomed Berke’s envoys for the first time in 661/1263,

55 56

57 58

Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir 217–8; Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 22–3. They were sold or re-used (Bauden, The recovery; Bauden, Du destin); some letters were also kept as models and used by younger generations of secretaries (Favereau, Comment le sultan mamlouk 72). Halperin, The Qipchaq connection. Ibn al-Athīr, al-Kāmil 159.

the golden horde and the mamluks

317

he invited them to play a game of polo (kura) with his Mamluks.59 However, this shared cultural background, which was used conspicuously and dramatized during official ceremonies, did not relate to the feeling of ʿaṣabiyya based on Qipchaq roots. It was related more to nomadic values transformed into a social marker for a new elite. 3.3 Norms and Languages Within the framework of this first exchange between the two courts, Turkish and Arabic were the preferred languages of communication.60 The first letter sent to Berke was written in Arabic by the sultan’s secretary Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir. Baybars asked the Jöchid warlords from the wāfidūn to redact his second letter; this indicates that the text was probably written in Turkish. In fact, it seems that there were two letters, one in Arabic, another in Turkish. The first one was recited aloud by Berke’s wazīr, then commented ( fassara) on by the qāḍī l-quḍāt, and finally given to the khan. The second one was introduced to the court: “one read the sultan’s letter in Turkish (bi-l-turkī) aloud to those who were attending and all were delighted with it.” The khan was surrounded by “fifty to sixty amirs,” most of them apparently able to understand Turkish. Sharaf al-Dīn al-Qazwīnī, the khan’s wazīr, spoke Arabic and Turkish, hence confirming the use of both languages in court communication.61 The first mission sent by Berke included two letters as well, one carried by the amir Jalāl al-Dīn b. al-Qāḍī and another by Shaykh Nūr al-Dīn ʿAlī.62 It was apparently the same letter in two languages, one in Arabic, the language of the Mamluk dīwān, another probably in Turkish. Other cases of duplicate letters are known in the diplomatic exchanges between Mamluks and Jöchids; in 670/1272, for example, the Khan Möngke Temür wrote two letters to Baybars, one in ʿarabī, another in ʿajamī—which could designate a non-Arabic script such as the Uygur script.63 It was common practice in all the Chinggisid courts to send a letter along with its translation and use multiple scripts and languages. Arabic and Turkish were also preferred as spoken languages. The khan

59 60

61 62 63

Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir 138. Ayalon already underlined the fact that Turkish and Arabic were the main languages used in the communication between the Golden Horde and the Mamluk sultanate (Ayalon, The great Yāsa (C1) 132–4). Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir 216–7; Ibn Aybak al-Dawādārī, Kanz al-durar 99; alYūnīnī, Dhayl i, 540; Ibn Abī l-Faḍāʾil, al-Nahj al-sadīd 458. Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir 171. Ibid. 400. For the embassy, see Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 60.

318

favereau

addressed Baybars’s ambassadors directly (likely in Turkish).64 The sultan also asked Berke’s men questions in Qipchaq Turkish, his mother tongue, or perhaps in Arabic.65 In official situations, Baybars sometimes used an interpreter for Arabic.66 The technical aspects of these first diplomatic exchanges (number of letters, languages used, etc.) did not fit into norms or established rules. Indeed, at this stage both rulers were concerned with expeditious communication. Later on, a tradition progressively developed; this was fostered by the section of the dīwān al-inshāʾ, which was established at the end of the seventh/thirteenth century, that was dedicated to diplomatic communication with the Tatars (Jöchids and Ilkhanids).67 3.4 The Diplomatic Agents Who made the exchanges possible? Behind the official correspondence between rulers we find communications between secretaries (kuttāb, bakhshī or bitikčiler), debates among religious scholars, and negotiations between merchants. There were numerous actors at work in building these relationships. It was never a bilateral alliance but a multi-pronged network only partially institutionalized via oral and written agreements among the Byzantines, the Jöchids, the Mamluks, and the Italians (Genoese and later Venetians). As I mentioned, Byzantine envoys used to accompany Mamluk and Jöchid missions. In the second half of the seventh/thirteenth century, Byzantine coins were still used for commercial transactions in the western lands of the Golden Horde.68 The nature of the message and the urgency of the situation determined what sort of people were involved in the diplomatic interplay. As Jöchids and Mamluks needed to engage in the exchange (of military information, goods, etc.), both parties tried to communicate through any means, and pragmatism seemed to have prevailed. If we closely examine the names, statuses, and origins of the first envoys (from both sides), we may first conclude that the choice of the messengers was quite eclectic. Ambassadors were always chosen intentionally. Four socio-professional groups were involved: merchants, warriors, Islamic scholars ( faqīh, Sufi shaykh, qāḍī), and civil administrators. They were chosen because of their concrete skills and technical expertise (knowledge

64 65 66 67 68

Ibid. 216. Ibid. 139. For instance ibid. 85 (also note 4). Favereau, Comment le sultan mamlouk 76–80. Ibn Aybak al-Dawādārī, Kanz al-durar 101; al-Yūnīnī, Dhayl i, 542; Ibn Abī l-Faḍāʾil, al-Nahj al-sadīd 462.

the golden horde and the mamluks

319

of Islamic law, languages, itineraries) or because they had the authority to establish treaties and contracts. In any case they were chosen for their social respectability. For his first significant mission in Dhū l-Ḥijja 660–Ṣafar 661/November– December 1262, Baybars sent the faqīh Majd al-Dīn al-Rūdhrāwarī and the amir Sayf al-Dīn Kusharbak along with two warriors of the wāfidiyya. They were Mongols and close to the khan. Baybars asked them to write a letter that was checked and certified by his qāḍī l-qūḍāt Tāj al-Dīn.69 The amir Sayf al-Dīn Kusharbak was chosen because he was turkī and an ex-jamdār officer of the Khwarizmshah.70 He was well-informed about the Golden Horde and spoke the appropriate languages. As for the faqīh, he was probably in charge of the negotiation of the written agreement with the khan.71 The chief ambassadors of the first mission Berke sent are also mentioned in the sources: the amir Jalāl al-Dīn b. al-Qāḍī and Shaykh Nūr al-Dīn ʿAlī.72 They were both Muslims and highranking officials. In this context amīr should not be understood as a military title but as a title for civil administrators and members of the Turkic Muslim elite.73 The military slave trade existed well before the Mongol conquest, and we can assume that local traders involved in it remained active under the Jöchids. Yet the rise of the Mamluk sultanate and the emergence of the Golden Horde and their ability to combine their common interests led to a formalization of the trade and to the emergence of “state merchants.” So in addition to the local traders living in the Crimea and on the Qipchaq steppes (Seljuqs, Turkmens, Alans, Bulgarians, Greeks, etc.), official traders, either Christian or Muslim, worked for the Mamluks and the Jöchid elites and were in charge of the selection of the future warriors for their masters.74 The involvement of mer-

69 70

71 72 73

74

Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir 138–9. The jamdār-officer was in charge of the royal wardrobe. In the Mamluk context, jamdārofficers were part of the mamālīk sulṭāniyya and sometimes of the elite bodyguards of the sultan (Ayalon, Studies on the structure 214, note 5). Zakirov, Diplomatičeskie otnošenija 45. Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir 140, 170–1. This title was used by Muslim Turks, elite members of the civil administration of the Mongol Empire, who previously worked for Central Asian dynasties such as the Khwarizmshahs and the Qarakhanids (see examples in Deweese, Cultural transmission, 23–6). In the treaty concluded in 1281 by the Mamluk sultan and the Byzantine emperor, Muslim merchants trading slaves for the sultan are mentioned (Canard, Le Traité de 1281). A few years later, in 1304, the Venetian Commemoriali mentioned the case of 35 slaves called “mamalucos” shipped by Venetian merchants to Egypt and stolen by the Genoese. The amir of Alexandria complained to the Venetian consul, stating that these mamluks were

320

favereau

chants in the conduct of foreign policy is particularly interesting. Important messages were entrusted to them. This is the case of the first letter Baybars sent to Berke in 660/1261–2.75 Indeed, in wartime, traders were safer than ambassadors. They often enjoyed special exemptions, freedom to travel, and could afford the cost of an escort. In the oldest agreement (680/1281) preserved between Michael VIII and the Mamluk sultan Qalāwūn through the transmission of al-Qalqashandī (d. 821/1418), it is stated that free passage was granted to Jöchid ambassadors, under the condition that Mamluk messengers escort them. On the other hand, merchants involved in the Qipchaq slave trade, whatever their origin, enjoyed free transit once they paid local taxes at a fixed rate.76 Merchants were treated better than other diplomats because they could negotiate their rights and advantages directly at court where they had their quarters, their intermediaries, and more opportunities to approach the ruler and the inner court circle. As regular go-betweens, traders were key to the establishment of all diplomatic agreements and obviously keen to get the lowest tax fees and as much immunity as possible. While some might argue that traders were not ambassadors in the modern sense, they clearly performed diplomatic functions by carrying letters, gathering information, and conducting negotiations. 3.5 Traveling from Cairo to Sarāy: the Alternative Route In one of the earliest mentions of the diplomatic alliance between the khan and the sultan, Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir describes the route that connected the two courts and the duration of the travel between the post stations.77 The attention given to the itinerary by the first secretary and biographer of Baybars should not be taken as geographical exoticism. One of the great political achievements of the sultan—and subtly claimed as such by his official biographer78—was the opening of the new route through the Bosphorus and the control of the slave-warriors market. The route taken by the Mamluk envoys in Dhū l-Ḥijja 660–Ṣafar 661/November–December 1262 was registered: they went from Cairo

75 76 77

78

intended for the sultan. The intermediaries in this case were Christian merchants. ASVe, Commemoriali, Reg. I, fol. 57 (54). Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir 89. Canard, Le Traité de 1281 673–4 (oath of the emperor), 679 (oath of the sultan). Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir 215. A more detailed version of this trip is given by Ibn Aybak al-Dawādārī, Kanz al-durar 99; al-Yūnīnī, Dhayl i, 540; al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab 105; Ibn Abī l-Faḍāʾil, al-Nahj al-sadīd 456–8. Issues about the slave trade might not be clearly expressed in the recorded text of the letters; yet the servile origin of Baybars was not a secret as it is mentioned in his official biography.

the golden horde and the mamluks

321

to Alexandria where they took a boat to Constantinople (twenty days).79 From there they reached the port of Daphnusia (Dafnusyā)—the island of Kefken in Turkey today80—where they took a ship to the Crimea: crossing the Black Sea could take from two to ten days depending on the winds; in that case they only needed a few days. Then they arrived in Sūdāq (Soldaia) and, after one day of walking, entered the city of Qrim.81 They were welcomed by the wālī (the khan’s deputy) named Ṭāyūq. He was in charge of the supplies and the horses for the yam ( yūlāgh/barīd), the official post of the Jöchids. From Qrim, one more day of walking was needed to enter the steppes.82 At the steppes’ entrance, Tūgh Tughā, an amir of 10,000 and governor of the area, welcomed the Mamluk ambassadors. At last, after an exhausting ride of twenty days across the steppes, they reached the shore of the Volga where the khan’s court was situated. Thus, at least fifty days were needed to travel from Cairo to Saqsīn or Sarāy in 660/1262. The duration of the trip remained basically the same until the 760s/1360s, as did the itinerary from Cairo to the khan’s orda on the lower Volga. According to Ibn Baṭṭūṭa’s account (around 730/1330) it took twenty days to travel between Sūdāq and Sarāy, and according to Pegolotti (around 740/1340), the distance between Tana, the gateway to the steppes, and Sarāy could be covered by oxdrawn carriage in twenty-six days, including one day of navigation on the Volga, or ten to twelve days for the same trip on horseback. If we follow this itinerary, it is obvious that the hub of the exchanges was the Black Sea. Whoever controlled the Bosphorus strait and whoever controlled the southern Crimea commanded the two pivotal access points to the “Mamluk-Jöchid road.” The fight for the control of these access points and the attempts to open competing routes was one of the major issues at stake until the end of the eighth/fourteenth century.83

79 80

81 82 83

This duration is plausible. See Udovitch, Time, the sea and society, table I: 511 (AlexandriaConstantinople, 18 days). Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir 215. At that time the island was part of the Byzantine Empire. Situated at a distance of 100 km from the mouth of the Bosphorus, it was a strategic harbor on the Black Sea (Pachymérès, Relations historiques i, 192, 193). This city was known as Solkhat (today Staryj Krym), capital of the tümen of Qrim until the ninth/fifteenth century. The strait of Kerch and the city of Tana-Azāq (today Azov) provided the main access to the Qipchaq steppes (Ibn Baṭṭūṭa, Riḥla 205–6). The Ilkhanids and the local traders reactivated the Anatolian routes, and around 1300 Sivas and Tabriz were once again highly competitive. Heyd, Histoire du commerce ii, 93, 112–22; Faroqhi, Sīwās 689.

322 4

favereau

Conclusion

The short-term results of this first alliance were substantial. Baybars and Berke succeeded in combining their military (human) resources through the slaves’ recruitment. The alliance put a stop to Hülegü’s conquests into the Islamic lands. It was a stabilizing factor during Baybars’s reign and allowed him to recruit mamlūks for his armies, and prevent the emerging sultanate from disintegrating. The consequences were equally positive for the Golden Horde. By allying with Baybars, Berke took independent and personal political decisions. The financial profits of the trade helped make the Jöchid elite self-sufficient (without the support of the great khan) and built up the foundations of the Jöchid sultanate. The cultural bounds between the two courts contributed to a first synthesis of Islamic and Chinggisid traditions. True, the alliance was only partially successful. The plan outlined in the letters, to recapture the Seljuq domain for the benefit of Baybars and Berke failed, as did the resolution to kill Hülegü, who died a natural death. The interruption of the diplomatic communication orchestrated by Michael VIII between 661/1263 and 663/1265 had a crucial impact on the regional balance of power. The military union of the Jöchid and the Mamluk armies never happened. However, this agreement was not only about military coordination; rulers’ legitimacy and reputation mattered as well. Jöchids and Mamluks were clearly looking for a legal basis to justify an expansionist agenda. More than promoting ideologies, their exchanges were aimed at the implementation of mutual respectability; they were addressed to the rulers’ inner circle and also to their external audiences. In addition, both rulers faced a new situation. Changing the routes also meant diversifying intermediaries; for that purpose, as we saw, the most able agents were called up: either the ones who had mastered the local trade networks (Seljuq, Genoese, Alan) and occupied administrative and ruling positions (ex-officers of the Khwarizmshah) or reliable new actors (wāfidūn). The years 660–65/1261–7 were marked by the rise of a new network. This is why this sequence of diplomatic exchanges is instrumental to the entire period of Mamluk-Jöchid relations. Establishing a viable alternative to the Anatolian land route was a great accomplishment for both parties. This new route was a long-lasting option (the military-slave trade between the Jöchids and the Mamluks continued until the end of the eighth/fourteenth century, up to the beginning of the Circassian period) and many local intermediaries were involved. Thus these long-term relationships had a strong impact not only on both sultanates but also on the whole inter-regional balance. Regarding diplomatic conventions, we can say that basic topoi were elaborated during this foundational period. The expressions and images used in

the golden horde and the mamluks

323

later letters show how important this first alliance was. The secretaries from both chancelleries based their rhetoric on the text of the letters recorded in the inshāʾ literature, manuals, and chronicles, and made frequent reference to the previous alliances.84 This first sequence set the terms for the birth of a diplomatic tradition and its language. Yet we should not forget that Mamluks and Jöchids had concrete and contextual reasons to engage in this exchange and it was only when the economic and political motivations failed that the alliance lost its raison d’être. Baybars and Berke—and their close entourages—initiated a foreign policy based on the diplomatic set-up described in the last part of this paper. They shared political and economic aims, they relied on qualified agents, they formalized and protected the exchanges on the basis of treaties and foregone itineraries, and they tried to coordinate their strategies to confront a changing political environment and to develop forms of communication between and within societies with different languages and traditions. In other words, they believed that diplomacy could change things.

Bibliography Primary Sources (Handwritten) ASVe, Commemoriali, Reg. 1.

Primary Sources (Printed) Abū Shāma, Tarājim rijāl al-qarnayn al-sādis wa-l-sābiʿ al-maʿrūf bi-l-Dhayl ʿalā l-Rawḍatayn, ed. M.Z. b. al-Ḥ. al-Kawtharī, Cairo 1947. al-ʿAynī, [ʿIqd al-jumān fī tawārīkh ahl al-zamān] Sbornik materialov, otnosjaščikhsja k istorii Zolotoj Ordy, vol. 1: Izvlečenija iz sočinenij arabskikh, ed. V. Tizengauzen, St. Petersburg 1884, 475–7. al-ʿAynī, ʿIqd al-jumān fī tawārīkh ahl al-zamān, ed. M.M. Amīn, vol. 1, Cairo 1987. Baybars al-Manṣūrī, Kitāb al-Tuḥfat al-mulūkiyya fī-l-dawlat al-turkiyya (638–711), ed. ʿA. al-Ḥ. Ṣ. Ḥamdān, Cairo 1987. Baybars al-Manṣūrī, Zubdat al-fikra fī taʾrīkh al-hijra, ed. D.S. Richards, Beirut and Berlin 1998. al-Dhahabī, Kitāb Duwal al-islām, vol. 1, ed. ʿA.A. b. I. al-Anṣārī, Qatar 1977.

84

The khans’ conversion to Islam and the combining of the armies were recurrent motifs. See, for instance, Ibn al-Furāt, Taʾrīkh al-duwal 354.

324

favereau

Haravī, Sayf b. Muḥammad, Tārīkh-nāma-yi Harāt, ed. Gh.R. Ṭabāṭabāʾī Majd, Tehran 2004. Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir fī sīrat al-Malik al-Ẓāhir, ed. ʿA. al-ʿA. al-Khuwayṭir, Riyadh 1976. Ibn Abī l-Faḍāʾil, [al-Nahj al-sadīd wa-l-durr al-farīd fīmā baʿd Taʾrīkh Ibn al-ʿAmīd], ed. E. Blochet, Histoire des sultans Mamlouks, in PO 12 (1919), 343–550. Ibn al-Athīr, al-Kāmil fī l-taʾrīkh, vol. 12, Bulaq and Cairo 1290/1873–4. Ibn al-Athīr, The chronicle of Ibn al-Athīr for the crusading period from al-Kāmil fīʾltaʾrīkh. Part 3: The years 589–629/1193–1231: The Ayyūbids after Saladin and the Mongol menace, trans. D.S. Richards, Aldershot and Burlington 2008. Ibn Aybak al-Dawādārī, Kanz al-durar wa-jāmiʿ al-ghurar, vol. 8: al-Durra al-dhakiyya fī akhbār al-dawlat al-turkiyya, ed. U. Haarmann, Cairo and Wiesbaden 1971. Ibn Baṭṭūṭa, Riḥlat Ibn Baṭṭūṭa al-musammāt Tuḥfat al-nuẓẓār fī gharāʾib al-amṣār, Cairo 1964. Ibn Bībī, Die Seltschukengeschichte des Ibn Bībī, trans. H. Duda, Copenhagen 1959. Ibn Bībī, [Seljūq-nāme] Sbornik materialov, otnosjaščikhsja k istorii Zolotoj Ordy, ed. V. Tizengauzen, vol. 2, Moscow and Leningrad 1941, 26–7. Ibn al-Furāt, [Taʾrīkh al-duwal wa-l-mulūk] Sbornik materialov, otnosjaščikhsja k istorii Zolotoj Ordy, vol. 1: Izvlečenija iz sočinenij arabskikh, ed. V. Tizengauzen, St. Petersburg 1884, 351–7. Ibn Kathīr, al-Bidāya wa-l-nihāya fī l-taʾrīkh, vol. 13, Cairo 1932. Ibn Shaddād, Taʾrīkh al-Malik al-Ẓāhir, ed. A. Ḥuṭayṭ, Wiesbaden 1983. Juvaynī, Genghis Khan: The history of the world conqueror, trans. J.A. Boyle, new introduction and bibliography D.O. Morgan, Manchester and Paris 1997. Jūzjānī, Ṭabaqāt-i Nāṣirī: A general history of the Muhammadan dynasties of Asia, including Hindustan, trans. Major H.G. Raverty, vol. 2, London 1881, repr. New Dehli 1970. al-Maqrīzī, Kitāb al-Sulūk li-maʿrifat duwal al-mulūk, ed. M.M. Ziyāda, vol. 1/2, Cairo 1936. al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab fī funūn al-adab, ed. M.ʿA. al-H. Shaʿīra, vol. 30, Cairo 1990. Pachymérès, Georges, Relations historiques, vols. 1–2, ed. A. Failler and trans. V. Laurent, Paris 1984. Polo, Marco, La Description du monde, ed. L. Hambis, Paris 1955. Rashīd al-Dīn, Histoire des Mongols de la Perse, ed. and trans. É. Quatremère, vol. 1, Paris 1836. Shāfiʿ b. ʿAlī, Ḥusn al-manāqib al-sirriyya al-muntazaʿa mīn al-sīrat al-ẓāhiriyya, ed. ʿA. al-ʿA. b. ʿA.A. al-Khuwayṭir, Riyadh 1989. al-Yūnīnī, Dhayl Mirʾāt al-zamān, vols. 1–2, Hyderabad 1954–5.

the golden horde and the mamluks

325

Secondary Sources Aigle, D., Legitimizing a regicide monarch: Baybars and the Ilkhans, in Aigle (ed.), The Mongol empire between myth and reality: Historic anthropological studies, Leiden 2014, 221–43. Allsen, T., Mongol imperialism: The policies of the Grand Qan Möngke in China, Russia, and the Islamic lands, 1251–1259, Berkeley 1987. Amitai, R., Diplomacy and the slave trade in the eastern Mediterranean: A re-examination of the Mamluk-Byzantine-Genoese triangle in the late thirteenth century in light of the existing early correspondance, in OM LXXXVIII/1 (2008), 349–68. Amitai, R., Mamluks of Mongol origin and their role in early Mamluk political life, MSR 12 (2008), 119–37. Amitai-Preiss, R., Mongols and Mamluks: The Mamluk-Īlkhānid war 1260–1281, Cambridge 1995. Ayalon, D., Studies on the structure of the Mamluk army—I, in BSOAS 15/2 (1953), 203– 28. Ayalon, D., The great Yāsa of Chingiz Khān: A re-examination (B), in SI 34 (1971), 151–80. Ayalon, D., The great Yāsa of Chingiz Khān: A re-examination (C1), in SI 36 (1972), 113– 58. Ayalon, D., The Wafidiya in the Mamluk kingdom, in IC (1951), 89–104. Bauden, F., Du destin des archives en Islam: Analyse des données et éléments de réponse, in D. Aigle and S. Péquignot (eds.), La Correspondance entre souverains, princes et cités-états: Approches croisées entre l’Orient musulman, l’Occident et Byzance (XIIIe–début XVIe siècle), Turnhout 2013, 27–49. Bauden, F., The recovery of Mamlūk chancery documents in an unsuspected place, in M. Winter and A. Levanoni (eds.), The Mamluks in Egyptian and Syrian politics and society, Leiden 2004, 59–76. Behrens-Abouseif, D., Practising diplomacy in the Mamluk sultanate: Gifts and material culture in the medieval Islamic world, London 2014. Broadbridge, A., Kingship and ideology in the Islamic and Mongol worlds, Cambridge 2008. Broadbridge, A., Mamluk legitimacy and Mongols: The reigns of Baybars and Qalāwūn, in MSR 5 (2001), 91–118. Cahen, C., Kaykāʾūs, in EI2, iv, 813–4. Cahen, C., Pre-Ottoman Turkey: A general survey of the material and spiritual culture and history c.1071–1330, New York 1968. Canard, M., Le Traité de 1281 entre Michel Paléologue et le sultan Qalā’ūn, in Byzantion 10/2 (1935), 669–80. Canard, M., Un traité entre Byzance et l’Égypte au XIIIe siècle et les relations diplomatiques de Michel VIII Paléologue avec les sultans mamlûks Baibars et Qalâ’ûn, in Mélanges Gaudefroy-Demombynes, Cairo 1937, 197–224.

326

favereau

Darley-Doran, R., Sald̲ jū̲ ḳids. VIII: Numismatics, in EI2, viii, 973–8. Deweese, D., Cultural transmission and exchange in the Mongol empire: Notes from the biographical dictionary of Ibn al-Fuwaṭī, in L. Komaroff (ed.), Beyond the legacy of Gengis Khan, Leiden and Boston 2006, 11–29. Dölger, F., Regesten der Kaiserurkunden des Oströmischen Reiches von 565–1453, vol. 3: 1204–1282, Munich 1932. Eckmann, J., The Mamluk Qipchaq literature, in CAJ 8 (1963), 304–19. Favereau, M., Comment le sultan mamlouk s’adressait au khan de la Horde d’Or: Formulaire des lettres et règles d’usage d’après trois manuels de chancellerie (1262– v. 1430), in AI 41 (2007), 64–7. Favereau, M., Pervoe pis’mo khana Berke sultanu Bejbarsu po mamljukskim istočnikam (661/1263 g.), in Zolotoordynskaya Civilizaciya 4 (2011), 101–13. Favereau, M. and J. Raymond, La Horde d’Or: Les héritiers de Gengis Khan, Lascelles 2014. Faroqhi, S., Sīwās, in EI2, ix, 689–91. Flinterman, W., Killing and kinging: Altaic notions of kingship and the legitimation of al-Ẓāhir Baybars’ usurpation of the Mamluk sultanate, 1249–1260, in Leidschrift 27/1 (2012), 31–48. Haarmann, U., Regicide and “the law of the Turks,” in M. Mazzaoui and V. Moreen (eds.) Intellectual studies on Islam: Essays written in honor of Martin B. Dickson, Salt Lake City 1990, 127–35. Halperin, C., The Qipchaq connection: The Ilkhans, the Mamluks and Ayn Jalut, in BSOAS 63/2 (2000), 229–45. Heyd, W., Histoire du commerce du Levant au Moyen Âge, 2 vols., Leipzig 1885–6, repr. Amsterdam 1967. al-Khūlī, A., Ṣilāt bayna l-Nīl wa-l-Vūljā, Cairo 1964. Jackson, P., The dissolution of the Mongol empire, in CAJ 32 (1978), 186–244. Martin, J., The land of darkness and the Golden Horde, in Cahiers du Monde russe et soviétique 19 (1978), 401–21. Nobutaka, N., The rank and status of military refugees in the Mamluk army: A reconsideration of the Wāfidīyah, in MSR 10/1 (2006), 55–81. Richard, J., Byzance et les Mongols, in Byzantinische Forschungen 25 (1999), 83–100. Richard, J., La conversion de Berke et les débuts de l’islamisation de la Horde d’Or, in RÉI 35 (1967), 173–84. Udovitch, A., Time, the sea and society: Duration of commercial voyages on the southern shores of the Mediterranean during the high middle ages, in La Navigazione mediterranea nell’alto Medioevo, Spoleto 1978, 503–63. Zakirov, S., Diplomatičeskie otnošenija Zolotoj Ordy s Egyptom (xiii–xiv vv.), Moscow 1966.

chapter 8

Mamluk-Ilkhanid Diplomatic Contacts: Negotiations or Posturing? Reuven Amitai

Over the years, while looking somewhat closely at the many letters exchanged between the Mongol ilkhans and the Mamluk sultans, more than once I asked myself what was the point of all of these efforts by both sides. Was anyone ever convinced by these missives, and in fact, did their writers ever really consider that their letters would have a significant impact on their recipients? The answer is that, yes, in some cases, the writers and their royal patrons did indeed believe that these letters might well cause the other side to change its mind, and even change its ways. This is mainly the impression that I get from reading the letters from the Ilkhanid side.1 On the other hand, I do not think that this was mostly the case with the Mamluks, and the aim in their letters was different: these were mainly intended as psychological warfare, to show the Mongols that they were resolute and meant business, that they were not cowed by the harsh, supercilious, and patronizing letters that called on the Mamluks to surrender. Together with this, the intention of the Mamluk letters was also to raise morale on its own side. Mongol claims and requests for a local audience were countered with cogent answers, and thus the Mamluks showed their resolute leadership.2 In this short paper I have picked four examples of diplomatic exchanges: the first is the letter sent by Hülegü to Quṭuz in the late spring of 658/1260. The latter responded, but not in the standard written form. The second example is the exchange of letters between Abagha and Baybars from 667/1268–9, a matter to which I devoted a paper in the mid-1990s. The third is the first letter sent by Tegüder Aḥmad to Qalāwūn in 681/1282, and the sultan’s response. 1 For a survey of sources for Mamluk-Ilkhanid relations, including those containing letters, treaties and other documents, see Amitai-Preiss, Mongols and Mamlūks, introduction. For the authenticity of these documents, see the discussion in Holt, Early Mamluk Diplomacy 1– 3; Humphreys, Islamic history 173–7. 2 For general considerations of Mamluk-Ilkhanid diplomatic relations, see Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology; Amitai-Preiss, Mongols and Mamluks, especially chapter 5; Amitai, Holy war and rapprochement. More specific studies of particular letters or rounds in the correspondence are provided below.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2019 | doi:10.1163/9789004384637_009

328

amitai

And finally, we look at the first round of correspondence between Ghāzān and al-Nāṣir Muḥammad in the aftermath of the embarrassing Mamluk defeat at Wādī l-Khaznadār in December 1299. I do not look so much at the ideological and polemical motives in these letters, as this has already been done for all the cases above, although there is occasional reference to them. Rather, I try to see the circumstances in which they were written and show how they impacted the recipients. Since I am generally not privy to the inner thoughts of our protagonists, I have to base most of my suggestions and conclusions on circumstantial evidence and educated guesses. This being said, if my general thesis is accepted, then we can approach these documents—and there can be little doubt that we are dealing with the texts of authentic documents—in a new light, even when reading them from a philological point of view or trying to analyze their contents.

1

The Letter from Hülegü to Quṭuz

Our first example is the letter sent by Hülegü to Quṭuz in the late spring of 658/1260 and the latter’s response. While we have neither the exact date nor place of its composition, nor when it arrived in Cairo, we do know some other interesting details of its composition. First, thanks to Vaṣṣāf (fl. 699–728/1299– 1323) and other authors,3 we know that the letter was probably written by none other than Naṣīr al-Dīn Ṭūsī, a Shiite savant formerly resident of the Ismāʿīlī center at Alamut and at this point one of the most trusted advisors to Hülegü.4 This explains, on the one hand, the very high level of Arabic style and the many Quranic quotes in the letter, and on the other hand, the clear references to the Mongolian imperialist world view. Second, the basic text of this letter had already served Hülegü in one of his missives to the last Ayyubid sultan of Syria, al-Nāṣir Yūsuf, but here it was reworked with clear references to the Mamluks and their new ruler. Here is one example: Quṭuz is referred to as “one of the Mamluks who fled before our sword into this country, who enjoyed its comforts and then killed its rulers.”5 The textual history of this letter, which appears in

3 Vaṣṣāf, Taʾrīkh 43; Vaṣṣāf, Geschichte 81 (Persian text, 84). See Brinner, Some Ayyūbid 120–1. For authors earlier than Vaṣṣāf, Rashīd al-Dīn and the anonymous writer of Safīna-yi Tabrīz who mention the author of this letter, see the comment of Aigle, Les Correspondances 38, note 80. 4 For Ṭūsī, see Lane, Early Mongol rule 213–23. 5 See Vaṣṣāf, Taʾrīkh 43–4 for the earlier letter to al-Nāṣir Yūsuf. For the letter to Quṭuz, see Ibn al-Furāt, Taʾrīkh al-duwal 243b–244a, which is copied by al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk i, 427–8. For a

mamluk-ilkhanid diplomatic contacts

329

many pro-Mamluk and pro-Mongol texts, was recently worked out by Denise Aigle; there are few substantial differences between them.6 I am not aware of other letters with so many versions, found in such a plethora of sources from both sides, thus guaranteeing the basic authenticity of the letter. I just note that this text is reused later by Tīmūr in a letter to Barqūq.7 The later use of this basic text, however, is not our focus here. Let us return to the arrival of the letter and subsequent developments. The story is known well enough. The letter was read before the sultan and his entourage. The message, shorn of all the rhetoric, was clear: surrender unconditionally or face death and total destruction. This was probably not completely unexpected, not the least since—as I have mentioned—a similar letter had been delivered to al-Nāṣir Yūsuf more or less a year earlier, and certainly echoes of the Mongol imperial ideology and their belief in world conquest8 must already have reached Cairo. It was clear that Hülegü, in whose name the letter was sent, expected the meaning to be understood. One way or another it should have turned out well from his point of view: either the Mamluks surrendered or—having been warned and insisting on remaining disobedient—they were fair game for punishment. However, Hülegü probably did not imagine the nature of Quṭuz’s response, which was well-conceived political theater. Quṭuz had the four envoys (whose names or even general identity are never revealed in the Mamluk sources; the pro-Mongol Rashīd al-Dīn tells us that there was one envoy [īlchī > Mo. elči] accompanied by forty “companions” [sing., nūkar < Mo. nöker])9 cut in half in different parts of the city and its environs (Sūq al-Khayl, Bāb al-Naṣr, Bāb Zuwayla, and al-Raydāniyya), for as many people as possible to see, or at least hear about. The heads of the four unfortunates were then hung from Bāb Zuwayla, and in the words of Ibn al-Furāt: “these were the first Mongol heads to be hung there,” implying what was in store in future Mamluk-Mongol relations.10

6 7 8 9 10

translation of this letter, based on the last mentioned version, see Lewis, Islam i, 84–5; the translation of the line cited above, from the beginning of the document, is taken from there. Aigle, Les Correspondances. Ibid., 38–9; Brinner, Some Ayyūbid 121–2. For a review of studies on the Mongol imperial ideology, see Amitai, Holy war and rapprochement 39–40, note 7. Rashīd al-Dīn, Jāmiʿ al-tawārīkh ii, 721; trans. ii, 504. Ibn al-Furāt, Taʾrīkh al-duwal 244a; al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk i, 429. In a coda to this story, Quṭuz took one young Mongol who accompanied the delegation and attached him to his personal unit of Mamluks, presumably as a trainee. The sultan likely rued this action, when this same young Mamluk of Mongol origin tried to assassinate him during the battle of ʿAyn Jālūt, before being cut down by loyal troops; al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk i, 431.

330

amitai

Our aim here is not to search for the origins—psychological, religious or practical—for Quṭuz’s unequivocal opposition to the Mongols,11 but to understand why he adopted this particular “diplomatic” approach at this time, which some might consider not very diplomatic; in fact it ran counter to norms of how ambassadors normally should have been treated.12 I would not go as far as to say that in Islamic and Inner Asian culture the position of ambassadors was completely inviolable, but overall expectations were that their safety would be protected, they would be more-or-less honorably treated, and eventually they would be sent back with some type of oral or written response to the previous missive.13 Well, in 658/1260 the Mongols got a clear response, but without the return of the ambassadors. Besides showing the Mongols, the Mamluks, local elites, and the general public of Cairo that he meant business and would brook no compromise with the Mongols, Quṭuz made it clear to all that he was “one tough cookie.” In addition, he deliberately burned his bridges behind him, and that of the Mamluks in general. To the Mamluk elite, he clearly demonstrated that there was no going back: the only option now was war, and the Mamluks would do well to get ready for it. The die was cast, and the process that led to the battle of ʿAyn Jālūt had begun. This may not have been diplomacy in the traditional sense, but for the Mamluks it worked none the less: the Mamluk leadership made their intentions very clear to their new enemy. Internally, certain options were intentionally closed off, while others seemed much more likely, and the position of the ruler was strengthened. The goals of this démarche were foreign and local, and both were achieved. There was no illusion of a diplomatic dialogue that might have prevented the development of hostilities between these enemies. While the Mongols may have harbored the hope of diplomatic success (obviously on their own terms), with the Mamluk response, they were clearly disabused of this misapprehension.

2

Letters between Abagha and Baybars

Our second example is the exchange of letters between Abagha and Baybars in 667/1268–9.14 The impetus for this exchange was the attempt by Hetʿum, the 11 12 13 14

For some discussion of this, see Amitai-Preiss, Mongols and Mamluks 35–8. See the general discussion in Mitchell, Diplomacy 207–8; Khadduri, War and peace 239– 50. Sinor, Diplomatic practices, esp. 339–44. I have dealt with this particular exchange in Amitai-Preiss, An exchange of letters.

mamluk-ilkhanid diplomatic contacts

331

king of Lesser Armenia in Cilicia, to affect some form of agreement between the superpowers in order to take some pressure off his frontiers. If the Mongols and Mamluks were no longer fighting, then perhaps the latter would desist from attacking Cilicia. In order to achieve this goal, Hetʿum appears to have stretched the truth somewhat, telling the ilkhan that Baybars was ready to make peace by submitting to the Mongols.15 The Mongol delegation (apparently one Mongol officer and several civilian officials) arrived in Syria via Cilicia; the sultan met them in Damascus at the very end of 1268 or the beginning of 1269 (Spring 667). The envoys started with what appears to have been a verbal message: When Abagha set out from the east and conquered the entire world, no one opposed him, and anyone who opposed him died and was killed. And you, [even] if you go up to the sky or down into the ground, you will not be saved from us. The best policy is that you establish peace between us. You are a Mamluk and were sold in Sivas. How do you rebel against the kings?16 Thereupon a letter in Arabic was delivered: we might note that this missive was unique in Ilkhanid letters, in that it is not composed in a high literary style, but rather it was written in an almost colloquial manner. I have suggested that this may be due to closely following a Mongolian original. However, a better Mongolist than me will be needed to decide this. In any case, the letter is clear enough—again Baybars and the Mamluks are called up to submit—yaṣīru īl, a clear calque on īl shudan in Persian.17 One point can be emphasized: in this letter Baybars is absolved of any responsibility for the killing of the Mongol envoys in 658/1260. Full responsibility is completely laid at Quṭuz’s feet.18 Whether Baybars attached any importance to this gesture will soon be seen. Baybars’ answer was short and to the point. The Arabic style of his letter is simple and unadorned. This is atypical for Mamluk chancery procedure, but appropriate as an answer to that particular letter from Abagha. There was one difference; namely that, unlike the last missive mentioned, the letter sent in

15 16 17 18

For the diplomatic contact between the Armenians and Mamluks at this time, see Dashdondog, The Mongols 143–66; Amitai-Preiss, Mongols and Mamluks 115–20. Ibn al-Furāt, Taʾrīkh al-duwal 153a; followed by al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk i, 574. For other sources that cite this verbal missive, see Amitai-Preiss, An exchange of letters 15, note 17. For the term īl (< Mo. el) and the expression īl shudan, see Doerfer, Türkische und mongolische Elemente ii, 194–201. The text of the letter is found in Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir 340–1.

332

amitai

Baybars’s name has no colloquialisms or stylistic infelicities. Most of Abagha’s points are answered, and there is no indication that Baybars—fresh from victories against the Franks along the coasts, the Armenians in Cilicia, and the Mongols in the Euphrates frontier region, was in no mood to grovel, or to give even the slightest hint that he took the disparagements and admonishments of the Mongols seriously in any way. Thus, when Abagha stated “… From the rising of the sun to its setting, in the entire world, there are those who come forth, become loyal and enter into servitude [to the Mongols],” Baybars responded: “As for what [Abagha] mentioned: From the rise of the sun to its setting, [all] have become loyal. What happened to Kitbughā Noyan, and how was he annihilated?” With regard to Quṭuz’s responsibility for the murder of the Mongol envoys in 658/1260, Baybars had this to say: “As for the killing of the envoys by Quṭuz—may God have mercy upon him: We have returned your envoys to the kings, as safe as they came.” The matter, then, was nicely skirted, and the sultan clearly did not feel any need to apologize. Quṭuz was even implicitly lauded.19 We cannot be satisfied by just looking at the historical contexts, a philological approach to the text, and even an analysis of the ideological motives expressed in each letter. These were matters that I tried to accomplish in my 1994 article. What I did not do then was look into the protagonists’ minds and ask: what were their motives, and what was the effect? Of course, for the first question we have no sure data: the chronicles and other sources do not relate to the matter in any way and any relevant protocols of the discussions of the ruler with his inner circle (assuming that they existed) have not come down to us. However, if allowed to speculate, I might suggest that Abagha indeed may have entertained some hope that his letter would actually convince Baybars to submit, or rather—it may well be that Abagha and his advisors, because of the information at their disposal, thought that the Mamluks were ready to give in, if they were pushed just a bit with threats, cajolement, and recourse to the Mongol imperial ideology—then the Mamluks would bow their heads in surrender. So much for the Mongol intelligence system (and the information provided by their allies and vassals, such as the Cilician Armenians).20 The Mamluks, certainly, had no such plans to submit, and they did not find Abagha’s remarks cogent in the least. Baybars replies with haughty disdain, knowing full well that this would grate on the ilkhan and others who heard the letter. So, we can clearly see one psychological dimension to the letter. However, there are apparently more. I would propose that Baybars also intended the letter for

19 20

The text of Baybars’ answer is found in ibid. 341–2. On the Mongol intelligence system, see Amitai-Preiss, Mongols and Mamluks 152–5.

mamluk-ilkhanid diplomatic contacts

333

home consumption, maybe even literally. I can imagine Baybars with a group of senior cronies sitting around the camp (or maybe in the citadel in Damascus), drinking qūmis (fermented mare’s milk, beloved by those of Inner Asian provenance, including some who had become Muslim),21 and listening to a draft of the letter being read. The simple style of the Arabic certainly facilitated its comprehension by most if not all present, not all of whom were completely fluent in classical Arabic. I can see them guffawing and chortling over the choice phrases, and the direct and indirect insults to Abagha and the Mongols. This, I think, was one of the intents of the letter, no less than providing a convincing Mamluk answer to the Mongol enemy or even trying to undermine their confidence by bravado and insult.

3

Letters between Tegüder and Qalāwūn

Let us now move to 681/1282: Qalāwūn was the sultan, his position strong after the victory at the Battle of Homs in 680/1281.22 On the Mongol side, Tegüder succeeded Abagha in 681/1282, and had yet to encounter opposition sufficient to topple him (that did not happen until 683/1284). As is well known, before becoming ilkhan, Tegüder had converted to Islam and taken the name Aḥmad.23 This made Mamluk-Mongol relations more complicated and in some ways more interesting. The Tegüder-Qalāwūn correspondence (Tegüder’s first letter, Qalāwūn’s response, and Tegüder’s second letter) has already been studied in detail by Peter M. Holt, Adel Allouche, Anne Broadbridge, and most recently Judith Pfeiffer.24 Thus I just summarize in a few sentences and then try to look at one aspect of the broader picture. Tegüder’s first letter can be divided into three parts: The first is an announcement of his conversion to Islam, along with that of the rest of his army, etc. This is, of course, important news, and the writer—clearly a well-educated official—milks this for what it is worth. Second, the Mamluks and the sultan at their head are chided for all kinds of crimes and misdemeanors, for example, the sending of spies in the guise of mendicant mystics ( fuqarāʾ). Finally, 21

22 23 24

On this interesting aspect of Mongol culture (and Steppe culture in general), see William of Rubruck, The mission 76–7, 81–3; for Baybars’ predilection for qūmis, which eventually had fatal consequences, see Thorau, The lion of Egypt 240–3, 268. On these events, see Northrup, From slave to sultan 108–12; Irwin, The Middle East 62–7; Amitai-Preiss, Mongols and Mamluks 179–201. Boyle, Dynastic and political history 364–8; Amitai, The conversion. Holt, The Īlkhān Aḥmad’s embassies 128–32; Allouche, Tegüder’s ultimatum; Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 38–44; Pfeiffer, Aḥmad Tegüder’s second letter.

334

amitai

the Mamluks are called upon to make peace with the Mongols, now that the religious issue has been resolved to everyone’s satisfaction.25 Already in 1990, Adel Allouche discerned the unequivocally belligerent message hiding behind the seemingly irenic words. A close reading of the text shows that in spite of the calls for peace among Muslims, the Mamluks were summoned to submit or face the consequences. In other words, in spite of some changes in the rhetoric, it was still business as usual for the Mongol leadership. My study of Tegüder’s letters has led me to a conclusion similar to that of Anne Broadbridge, and also to see them as muted calls for submission.26 The Mamluk leadership was not to be outdone or outshone. The fact that Qalāwūn had long converted to Islam—many years before Tegüder—was highlighted, although the latter was patronizingly given some credit for behaving as a proper Muslim ruler. However, the bad deeds of his predecessors were clearly noted. Spies from the Mongols were also mentioned, as was the murder of real dervishes. Tegüder’s demands for submission were politely brushed off, not least by calling for true friendship, surveying the evil deeds of the ilkhan’s brother (Qonqrutai, soon to be killed by him) in Anatolia, and finally ridiculing the Mongol defeats in Syria.27 This was not a saber-rattling message (or rather the saber-rattling was somewhat subdued), but it answered the Mongol points carefully and fully. Here again, we see that the letter from the Mongol ruler was full of relatively straightforward talk, ultimately with a call to submit, although this call was less forceful than in the letters of earlier ilkhans. Again, it would seem that for the ghost author and his patron(s), the letter speaks for itself, its argument is cogent, and anyone who reads it will be convinced and comply. There is something somewhat endearing in this naïve attitude. The Mamluks, on the other hand, did not entertain any hope that they would convince the ilkhan and his entourage. They did their best to answer his letter, and I think that they were relatively successful. At the end of the day, there were two important messages in the sultan’s letter, one external and one internal: the outward one is directed to the Mongols: it states that no, the Mamluks are not going to submit, and they remain committed to their vision. Internally, however, the message is designed to maintain morale and belief in the justice of their cause among the Mamluk elite and its followers. There was an important ideological challenge: the Mongols—at least according to the ilkhan’s letters—were no longer infidels, 25 26 27

For this letter, see Baybars al-Manṣūrī, Zubdat al-fikra 219–22. Judith Pfeiffer, on the other hand, gives Tegüder more credit, attributing to him the desire for real peace. For Qalāwūn’s reply, Baybars al-Manṣūrī, Zubdat al-fikra 222–6.

mamluk-ilkhanid diplomatic contacts

335

and therefore perhaps the Mamluks had lost their ideological monopoly and maybe even their raison d’être. Yet, the Mamluks came out on top: their arguments were well thought out (or so they thought), they had the advantage of twenty plus years of victories under their belt, and in the long run, Tegüder Aḥmad was overthrown and murdered, not least because he had become a Muslim. It was again business as usual, and jihād against the Mongol infidels was back on the agenda.

4

Letters between Ghāzān and al-Nāṣir Muḥammad

My last example is the first exchange of embassies between Ghāzān and alNāṣir Muḥammad in the aftermath of the Mongol victory at Wādī l-Khaznadār at the end of 699/1299, the disastrous and embarrassing Mamluk retreat from Syria in its aftermath, the subsequent Mongol occupation of Damascus, and finally, the gradual but total withdrawal of the Mongols from Damascus and Syria, and then the return of the Mamluks.28 Ghāzān had converted to Islam during his struggle against his cousin Baidu, just before his accession to the throne, and he saw himself as pādshāh-i islām.29 Again, the Mongols challenged the linchpin of Mamluk identity and ideology; it is fascinating to examine this new round of ideological sparring, as Anne Broadbridge has already done so well. Earlier indications of the new Mongol approach came in a number of proclamations by Ghāzān in Damascus, but these do not concern us now, although they said some important things from an ideological and political point of view.30 Ghāzān’s first letter to al-Nāṣir Muḥammad was written in the early summer or late spring of 700/1301; his envoys entered Cairo in July/August of the same year. It opens with a description of the sultan’s “rebelliousness against God and God’s chosen ruler,” as witnessed when Mamluk troops raided in Mardin in 698/1299. Al-Nāṣir Muḥammad was further censured for refusing to surrender to the Mongols. The letter noted Ghāzān’s favor by God, as seen by his victory at Wādī l-Khaznadār. Again the Mamluks are called to surrender. The Mamluks soon responded to this missive. We should note that the letter was sent in the name of a sixteen-year-old sultan who held no executive power, so it 28 29 30

For these events in general, see Boyle, Dynastic and political history 387–9; Amitai, Whither the Ilkhanid army?; Amitai, The Mongol occupation. Melville, Pādshāh-i Islām. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 73–80; see also Aigle, La Légitimité islamique; Horst, Eine Gesandschaft.

336

amitai

most probably represents the collective opinion of the senior Mamluk officials and officers. The missive praises the Mamluks’ precedence in religion, then, and more importantly, it clearly casts aspersions on the quality of Ghāzān’s Islam, not the least since there were plenty of Christians in his armies. Ghāzān’s shoddy treatment of the conquered population was criticized, and compared unfavorably to the behavior of Baybars and his army in Anatolia in 675/1277. The Mamluks also made the important point that the defeat at Wādī l-Khaznadār was relatively insignificant in the scheme of things, that is, after more than forty years of Mamluk victories.31 This summary does a great injustice to the detail and style, let alone the argument of this round of correspondence, and in fact, does not approach the richness of Anne Broadbridge’s renditions. It should, however, serve our needs here. First, we have before us a serious exchange of ideas, and points that are cogently met by counterpoints, perhaps more so than in previous letters. The ilkhan launched this round of negotiations with a well-thought out letter, and the impression is that he and his advisors fully expected these ideas to be accepted at face value, and backed by the recent victory in Syria (albeit followed by their withdrawal from the country). The Mamluk sultan presented reasonable counter-arguments. His letter basically states that there is no real hope for negotiations and matters can only be resolved on the battlefield. It aims to show bravado and self-confidence, in spite of the recent poor showing in Syria, while disparaging the Mongols and showing that they will not be cowed by them. No less important, the sultan’s response was aimed for home consumption, to strengthen the resolve of both junior and senior Mamluks—again in the aftermath of a fiasco on the battlefield, and to show everyone that the Mamluks meant business. It is unclear if these letters were well circulated in army or government circles, let alone beyond, but the message surely got around, and it was clearly meant to demonstrate that the Mamluks were still in control and that there could be no compromise with the Mongols, regardless of their status as self-described Muslims. Perhaps the well-known alternative versions of these letters, which have been described as forgeries, were intended as simplified versions of the real letters for circulation among the public to bring home this militant message.32 31

32

See the summary of these letters in Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 80–5. For their full texts, see Baybars al-Manṣūrī, Zubdat al-fikra 352–3, 356–61, also found as appendices to al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk i, 1016–23. On these alternative, apparently fabricated versions, see Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 86.

mamluk-ilkhanid diplomatic contacts

5

337

Conclusion

There were many diplomatic exchanges between the Mongols and Mamluks that accompanied and paralleled the fighting along the frontier, the Mongol campaigns into Syria, and the occasional Mamluk foray over the border. I have attempted here to look at the intent of a few of these, delivered by organized embassies, usually along with an oral message. The Mongols, it appears, really expected to convince the other side, and to engage in negotiations leading to a Mamluk surrender. For the Mamluks, determined to resist, this was not possible, but they maintained the pattern of the exchange of letters. From the Mamluk point of view, these letters were mainly a form of posturing, psychological warfare vis-à-vis the enemy, and encouragement to strengthen morale on the home front. There was not any significant change in the nature of the diplomatic exchanges with the conversion of the ilkhans and the Mongol elite, although in some ways the argumentation becomes more interesting, as the traditional Mongol presentation was augmented by Islamic motifs. The Mamluk responses to this new line of reasoning are also interesting. In any event, nothing of substance was achieved by the many rounds of diplomatic exchange between the sultans and the ilkhans. Only with the transformation of Ilkhanid foreign policy in the late 710s/1310s do we discern the opening of real diplomatic relations leading to actual negotiations that resulted in an end to hostilities and the establishment of peace.33 That, however, is a matter that deserves further consideration beyond the confines of this short paper. In any event, it is clear that from 720/1320 Mamluk-Ilkhanid relations entered a new phase, which unfortunately due to the collapse of the ilkhanate in 736/1335 was not to last long.

Bibliography Primary Sources (Handwritten) Ibn al-Furāt, Taʾrīkh al-duwal wa-l-mulūk, MS Ar. 726, Vatican Library.

Primary Sources (Printed) Baybars al-Manṣūrī, Zubdat al-fikra fī taʾrīkh al-hijra, ed. D.S. Richards, Beirut and Berlin 1998. Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir fī sīrat al-Malik al-Ẓāhir, ed. ʿA. al-ʿA. al-Khuwayṭir, Riyadh 1976. 33

On these negotiations, see Melville, ‘Sometimes by the sword’; Amitai, The resolution.

338

amitai

al-Maqrīzī, Kitāb al-Sulūk li-maʿrifat duwal al-mulūk, ed. M.M. Ziyāda et al., 4 vols., Cairo 1934–73. Rashīd al-Dīn, Jāmiʿ al-tawārīkh, ed. B. Karīmī, Tehran 1338 Sh/1959; trans. W.M. Thackston, Rashiduddin Fazlullah’s Jamiʿu’t-tawarikh: Compendium of chronicles: A history of the Mongols, Cambridge MA 1998–9. Vaṣṣāf, Geschichte Wassaf’s, Persisch heraugsgegeben und Deutsch übersetzt von Hammer-Purgstall, ed. S. Wentke, with the assistance of K. Wundsam, Vienna 2010. Vaṣṣāf, Taʾrīkh-i Vaṣṣāf [Tajziyat al-amṣār wa-tazjiyat al-aʿṣār], Bombay 1852–3, repr. Tehran 1338 Sh/1959–60. William of Rubruck, The mission of Friar William of Rubruck: His journey to the court of the great Khan Möngke, 1253–1255, trans. and ed. P. Jackson, with D. Morgan, London 1990.

Secondary Sources Aigle, D., La Légitimité islamique des invasions de la Syrie par Ghazan Khan, in ES 5/1–2 (2006), 5–29. Aigle, D., Les Correspondances adressées par Hülegü au prince ayyoubide de Syrie alMalik al-Nāṣir Yūsuf, in A. Moezzi et al. (eds.), Pensée grecque et sagesse d’Orient. Hommages à Michel Tardieu, Turnhout 2010, 25–40. Allouche, A., Tegüder’s ultimatum to Qalawun, in IJMES 22 (1990), 437–46. Amitai, R., Holy war and rapprochement: Studies in the relations between the Mamluk sultanate and the Mongol Ilkhanate (1260–1335), Turnhout 2013. Amitai, R., The conversion of Tegüder Ilkhan to Islam, in JSAI 25 (2001), 21–41. Amitai, R., The Mongol occupation of Damascus in 1300: A study of Mamluk loyalties, in A. Levanoni and M. Winter (eds.), The Mamluks in Egyptian and Syrian politics and society, Leiden 2004, 21–41. Amitai, R., The resolution of the Mongol-Mamluk war, in Amitai and M. Biran (eds.), Mongols, Turks and others: Eurasian nomads and the sedentary world, Leiden 2005, 359–90. Amitai, R., Whither the Ilkhanid army? Ghazan’s first campaign into Syria (1299–1300), in N. Di Cosmo (ed.), Warfare in inner Asian history, Leiden 2002, 221–64. Amitai-Preiss, R., An exchange of letters in Arabic between Abaγa Ilkhan and Sultan Baybars (A.H.667 / A.D.1268–9), in CAJ 38 (1994), 11–33; reprinted in Amitai, The Mongols in the Islamic lands: Studies in the history of the Ilkhanate, Aldershot 2007. Amitai-Preiss, R., Mongols and Mamluks: The Mamluk-Ilkhanid war 1260–1281, Cambridge 1995. Boyle, J.A., Dynastic and political history of the Īl-Khāns, in Boyle (ed.), The Cambridge history of Iran, vol. 5, Cambridge 1968, 303–428. Brinner, W., Some Ayyūbid and Mamlūk documents from non-archival sources, in IOS 2 (1972), 117–43.

mamluk-ilkhanid diplomatic contacts

339

Broadbridge, A.F., Kingship and ideology in the Islamic and Mongol worlds, Cambridge 2008. Dashdondog, B., The Mongols and the Armenians (1220–1335), Leiden 2011. Doerfer, G., Türkische und mongolische Elemente im Neupersischen, Wiesbaden 1963–75. Holt, P.M., The Īlkhān Aḥmad’s embassies to Qalāwūn: Two contemporary accounts, in BSOAS 49 (1986), 128–32. Holt, P.M., Early Mamluk Diplomacy (1260–1290): Treaties of Baybars and Qalāwūn with Christian Rulers, Leiden 1995. Horst, H., Eine Gesandschaft des Mamlūken al-Malik an-Nāṣir im Īlḫān-Hof in Persien, in W. Hoenerbach (ed.), Der Orient in der Forschung: Festschrift für Otto Speis zum 5 April 1966, Wiesbaden 1967, 348–70. Humphreys, R.S., Islamic history: A framework for inquiry, London and New York 1995 (rev. ed.). Irwin, R., The Middle East in the middle ages: The early Mamluk sultanate 1250–1382, London 1986. Khadduri, M., War and peace in the law of Islam, Baltimore 1955. Lane, G., Early Mongol rule in thirteenth-century Iran: A Persian renaissance, London 2003. Lewis, B., Islam: From the Prophet Muhammad to the capture of Constantinople, London 1974, repr. New York and Oxford 1984. Melville, C., Pādshāh-i Islām: The conversion of sultan Maḥmūd Ghāzān Khān, in Pembroke Papers 1 (1990), 159–77. Melville, C., ‘Sometimes by the sword, sometimes by the dagger’: The role of the Ismaʿilis in Mamlūk-Mongol relations in the 8th/14th century, in F. Daftary (ed.), Medieval Ismaʿili history and thought, Cambridge 1996, 247–63. Mitchell, C.P., Diplomacy, in J.W. Meri (ed.), Medieval Islamic civilization: An encyclopedia, New York and London, 2006, 207–8. Northrup, L., From slave to sultan: The career of al-Manṣūr Qalāwūn and the consolidation of Mamluk rule in Egypt and Syria (678–689A.H./1279–1290A.D.), Stuttgart 1998. Pfeiffer, J., Aḥmad Tegüder’s second letter to Qalāwūn (682/1283), in J. Pfeiffer and S.A. Quinn, with Ernest Tucker (eds.), History and historiography of post-Mongol Central Asia and the Middle East: Studies in honor of John E. Woods, Wiesbaden 2006, 167–202. Sinor, D., Diplomatic practices in medieval inner Asia, in C.E. Bosworth et al. (eds.), The Islamic world, from classical to modern times: Essays in honor of Bernard Lewis, Princeton 1989. Thorau, P., The lion of Egypt: Sultan Baybars I and the Near East in the thirteenth century, trans. P.M. Holt, London and New York 1992.

chapter 9

Baghdad between Cairo and Tabriz: Emissaries to the Mamluks as Expressions of Local Political Ambition and Ideology during the Seventh/Thirteenth and Eighth/Fourteenth Centuries Hend Gilli-Elewy

1

Introduction

After the death of the last Abbasid caliph al-Mustaʿṣim in 656/1258 and the battle of ʿAyn Jālūt in 658/1260, Baghdad and Iraq were the only Arabic-speaking province of the Mongol-Persian ilkhanate, which in turn stood in opposition to the Arabic-Mamluk sultanate. The center of the Arabic Islamic world shifted to the west, to Damascus and Cairo; and in the east, once Abagha became ruler, the Persian city of Tabriz gained prominence under the Ilkhanids, leaving Baghdad a rather secondary city on the periphery of the two empires. Even though Baghdad and Iraq were peripheral to Mongol-Mamluk relations, its symbolic significance as former capital of the Muslim world continued to endure, though it changed with the shifting religious, political, and economic focus. The larger context of this paper is the study of the province of Baghdad and southern Iraq during the seventh/thirteenth and eighth/fourteenth centuries, with the main focus being the relationship between the Ilkhanid and post-Ilkhanid state and provincial society in Iraq.1 I examine how representatives of the state established their legitimacy, defined hegemony, and appealed to the local population as authorities, military forces, administrators, and also as “partners in upholding an Islamic moral and legal universe,”2 and how in return the

1 For a classic study on government and society see Mottahedeh, Loyalty and leadership; this work demonstrates the importance of social and ideological loyalties in shaping society and creating bonds in early medieval Iran; also Paul, Herrscher; Cahen, Mouvements populaires; Lambton, Continuity and change; Chamberlain, Knowledge and social practice; Hourani, A history 130–7; Manz, Power, for Timurid Iran, and others. 2 Khoury, State and provincial society 2.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2019 | doi:10.1163/9789004384637_010

baghdad between cairo and tabriz

341

local population related to provincial and state representatives and adapted to the changing political realities. In this context, I explore the relationship between the Mamluks and the Ilkhanids, and the Ilkhanid successors from the perspective of Baghdad and its inhabitants. I examine how the relationship between Baghdad and Tabriz, and Baghdad and Cairo, is represented in the sources, in an effort to recreate a local understanding of where the city and its people stood and how they perceived themselves in the grand scheme of the events and political constellations of the seventh/thirteenth and eighth/fourteenth centuries. This paper concentrates on contacts and exchanges with Mamluk emissaries in Cairo from a Baghdadi perspective, in order to see what insight they might provide on the local Baghdadi government and its peoples’ definitions and concepts of authority, legitimacy, independence, and sovereignty, of self and other. This study is based on an analysis of historical sources in Arabic and Persian (such as Rashīd al-Dīn, Pseudo-Ibn al-Fuwaṭī, Ahrī, al-Maqrīzī, al-Ṣafadī, al-Qalqashandī, al-Fākhirī, al-Qazwīnī, Mīrkhwānd, Khwāndamīr, Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, and others) that of course very much reflect the political sentiments of the time and the chasm between the Mamluk territories in Egypt and Syria and the Mongol ilkhanate in Persia and Iraq. Starting with the fall of Baghdad to the Mongols, Arabic-Mamluk and Persian-Mongol authors sought to explain events according to their own political, ideological, and religious ideals.3 Apart from the official Mongol-Persian sources, there are also a few sources that originated from Iraq itself: for example, Ibn al-Ṭiqṭaqā (d. 701/1301–2), naqīb (marshal) of the Shiites in Ḥilla, who wrote his Kitāb al-Fakhrī, a mirror-for-princes, for the Mongol-Christian governor of Mosul, and Ibn al-Kāzarūnī (d. 697/1297– 8), an eyewitness to the events; however, both histories end with the last Abbasid caliph.4 For the Mongol period a more significant Arabic source is the anonymous local history known as al-Ḥawādith al-jāmiʿa wa-l-tajārib alnāfiʿa fī l-miʾa al-sābiʿa that was attributed to Ibn al-Fuwaṭī (d. 723/1323). It was first edited and published by Musṭafā Jawād in Baghdad in 1932.5 The history stops, however, in 700/1301 and does not cover the last phase of the ilkhanate. For the eighth/fourteenth century, the most important Iraqi sources are the ninth-/fifteenth-century al-Tārīkh al-Ghiyāthī, Ahrī’s (ca. eighth/four-

3 See also Heidemann, Das Aleppiner Kalifat 12–7. For later periods see also Hodgson, The venture ii, 64–9; and Hourani in Shoshan, The politics. 4 Ibn al-Kāzarūnī, Mukhtaṣar al-taʾrīkh; Ibn al-Ṭiqṭaqā, al-Fakhrī. 5 On Ibn al-Fuwaṭī, see Rosenthal, Ibn al-Fuwaṭī; also Haarmann, Quellen 102, and bibliographic information in al-Shabībī, Muʾarrikh al-ʿIrāq; Iqbāl, Ibn al-Fuwati; and Spuler, Die Mongolen 12; also Brockelmann, Geschichte, S. ii, 202.

342

gilli-elewy

teenth century) Tārīkh-i Shaykh Uvays, and in some respect Nakhjawānī’s (ca. 679–d. after 768/1280–1366) Dastūr al-kātib fī taʿyīn al-marātib. It is clear that Iraq, having become a province along the edge of the Mamluk and Mongol worlds, was not a favorable venue for historical writing, and even the sources of the Ilkhanids and post-Ilkhanids provide little information on local sentiments in Baghdad. In recent years there have been some significant scholarly contributions to the understanding of Mongol-Mamluk relations and especially their diplomatic exchanges. These include works such as Reuven Amitai’s Mongols and Mamluks: The Mamluk-Ilḫanid War, 1260–1281, and his inspiring article on The Resolution of the Mamluk-Mongol War; Anne Broadbridge’s groundbreaking book on kingship in the Mongol and Muslim worlds; and the meticulous scholarship of Charles Melville. These of course are extremely helpful in portraying a larger picture of events and developments of the seventh/thirteenth and eighth/fourteenth centuries.

2

Baghdad, 1258–81

From the beginning, the relationship between the Mamluks and the Ilkhanids was characterized by mutual suspicion and distrust, and often “hostility and war”;6 this was also represented in the opposing ideological conceptions of a divinely mandated universal Mongol rule and a legitimate Mamluk role as guardians of Islam.7 During the first year after the conquest of Baghdad, a very short-lived provisional administration was put in place by Hülegü himself; this was composed of local figures and gave Iraq a rather independent local administration. This initial administration aimed to (1) establish a Mongol military presence under the leadership of Qarābughā and (2) begin reconstruction of the city.8 However, during this first couple of years, the border with the Mamluks was not yet defined, Hülegü was still conquering the rest of Iraq and the 6 For a comprehensive study on Mamluk-Mongol war, see Amitai-Preiss, Mongols and Mamluks. 7 See Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology, for a comprehensive study of the ideological conceptions. 8 The actual size of the military presence is difficult to discern: Rashīd al-Dīn says he sent Ilke Noyan and Qarābughā with 3,000 horsemen, and Sayf al-Dīn Bitikchī asked for 300 horsemen to guard the holy sites in Najaf (Rashīd al-Dīn, Jāmiʿ al-tawārīkh ii, 714–5). In addition an unknown number of troops came under ʿAlī Bahādur and further troops were intended for the continuing conquest westwards. For the initial local administration see Gilli-Elewy, Baghdad 48–57.

baghdad between cairo and tabriz

343

Jazira and preparing upcoming attacks against Syria and the Mamluks, and his own military authority and position as leader of the ilkhanate was still unstable. From the other side, the descendants of the Abbasid caliph aspired to reconquer Baghdad, and this may explain the Mongol’s concern about the possibility of locals collaborating with the Mamluks. Rashīd al-Dīn tells the story of Jalāl al-Dīn, the son of the lesser dawādār, who had achieved a high position in the Mongol army after the conquest and who proposed to Hülegü that he use the caliph’s former Qipchaq forces against Berke Khān, since they were well-versed in their ways and customs. Hülegü agreed and demanded that Baghdad provide him with all the necessary men, weapons, money, etc. Jalāl al-Dīn supposedly crossed the Euphrates in 662/1264 together with his men, their families, the money, and the equipment, and escaped first to Syria, then Egypt.9 PseudoIbn al-Fuwaṭī does not mention Hülegü equipping Jalāl al-Dīn, but says that he pretended to go hunting and escaped with his men and their families. Some of them later returned to Baghdad but were then killed by Qarābughā.10 Such defections and emigrations (wāfidiyya, or mustaʾminūn) of Mongol and Iraqi soldiers to the Mamluks were frequent and must have impacted the stability of the military contingency in Iraq during the early period of westward conquest.11 These defections reflect the state of Mongol relations with neighboring powers and the accompanying Ilkhanid internal struggles for power. For this early period, of course, Iraqis and Abbasid officials crossing over to the Mamluks must have fed anxieties about conspiracies to reconquer Baghdad and Iraq. Within a year after the Mongol conquest of Baghdad and Iraq, the province was integrated with the rest of the ilkhanate. Once the famous ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn Juvaynī was instated as governor (r. 1259–83), the province’s administration followed the typical Mongol system, which was characterized by a Persian civil official, the governor (wālī, or ḥākim) and his deputy (nāʾib), and alongside him the Mongol military commander (shiḥna). The civil administration was clearly subordinate to the military organization. ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn Juvaynī ruled over 9 10 11

Rashīd al-Dīn, Jāmiʿ al-tawārīkh ii, 735–6. Pseudo-Ibn al-Fuwaṭī, al-Ḥawādith al-jāmiʿa 351–2. On the wāfidiyya see Ayalon, L’ Esclavage 91–104, and more recently Amitai, Mamluks of Mongol origin, and Nobutaka, The rank and status. For estimates, see Nobutaka’s list of the different wāfidiyya groups crossing over to Baybars and their considerable numbers. Ibn Shaddād, Taʾrīkh 331 and 337 says 3,000 horsemen came from Iraq; Amitai-Preiss, Mongols and Mamluks 108–10; the first group to arrive in the Mamluk sultanate in 1260 was a 200-man strong troop of Berke Khān’s, put under Hülegü’s orders, then in 1263 1,300 men went over, and in between several individuals with their families crossed over; the shiḥna of Tikrit arrived at the end of 662/1264 (Ibn Shaddād, Taʾrīkh 332–3).

344

gilli-elewy

Baghdad for over twenty years under ilkhans Hülegü, Abagha, then Tegüder Aḥmad.12 Even though the sources recognize him as a benevolent official who brought continuity, stability, and prosperity to the local population, his period in office was marked by turbulence, conspiracies, and attempts to end his rule and life. He was often accused and arrested, disowned, and once sentenced to death, then pardoned. Most attacks and accusations aimed at removing ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn Juvaynī arose from issues related to taxes or correspondence with the Mamluks. Within the very first year of his tenure, he was accused of having contacted the Mamluks, and his brother Shams al-Dīn, Hülegü’s ṣāḥib-i dīvān, came to Baghdad with a yarlıgh to confirm his brother’s innocence. In 662/1264, the newly appointed shiḥna amīr Qarābughā went to Hülegü’s ordu and again accused ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn Juvaynī, however, the court decision fell in ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn Juvaynī’s favor and all accusers were killed and the amir was dismissed from his position. Pseudo-Ibn al-Fuwaṭī does not mention the nature of the accusation, but Bar Hebraeus says that the amir accused him of having secret ties to the Mamluks,13 and says his accusers convinced a Bedouin to falsely testify that ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn Juvaynī summoned him to guide him and his family on their escape to the Mamluks. In 677/1277 he was summoned to the ordu and again accused of writing to the Mamluks. Sharaf al-Dīn ʿAlī b. Amīrān, the kātib al-inshāʾ (chancery), and Ḥamza al-Tikrītī, a merchant, were arrested. ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn Juvaynī was able to prove his innocence, and his accuser was killed.14 These accusations continued throughout his twenty-year tenure and were brought forward by both Mongol and local Iraqi officials, Shiites and Christians.15 ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn Juvaynī not only survived these accusations but also used them to his advantage to remove certain figures from the political arena and replace them with others. What happened locally in Baghdad reflected the overall machinations of the central ordu, where his brother fought the same battle on a different level. Thus, his controversial position was part of a broader subtext that reflected the intrigues, embroilments, and rivalries of the Ilkhanid central court. As mentioned earlier, most of the accusations aimed at discrediting and neutralizing political enemies were—like a leitmotiv—based upon charges of embezzlement or collaboration with the Mamluks, both of which characterized two main weaknesses of the Ilkhanid court, its inability to con12 13 14 15

On him see Qazvīnī’s introduction to his edition of al-Juvaynī, Tārīkh-i jahān-gushā; Barthold and Boyle, D̲ j̲uwaynī. Also Gilli-Elewy, The Mongol court. Bar Hebraeus, The chronography 498; Pseudo-Ibn al-Fuwaṭī, al-Ḥawādith al-jāmiʿa 352. Pseudo-Ibn al-Fuwaṭī, al-Ḥawādith al-jāmiʿa 398. Ibid. 366, 377; Bar Hebraeus, The chronography 449 [526]; Ibn al-Ṭiqṭaqā, al-Fakhrī 239–41.

baghdad between cairo and tabriz

345

trol corruption among its officials, and its fear of a Mamluk offensive on the western border. Within the ordu two rival tendencies in the Mongol government created much instability: The first aimed at creating a strong, centralized state ruled by the ilkhan and his officials; the second represented the fragmented interests of the nomadic tribal aristocracy.16 And externally, the ilkhanate lived in constant fear of a Mamluk offensive, perhaps because the defeat at ʿAyn Jālūt was still fresh in recent memory. Subsequently a sort of “cold war,”17 as Reuven Amitai put it, prevailed that was characterized by raids and espionage, and claims by descendants of the Abbasids to restore the caliphate of Baghdad. Locally, for Baghdad, ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn Juvaynī’s disputed and rather controversial governorship meant that he was able to use the structural weaknesses of the central ordu to carve out a position for himself and to accumulate considerable wealth and influence. He distinguished himself by his active interest in construction, which placed him in the tradition of Muslim rulers.18 He dedicated himself to rebuilding Baghdad’s infrastructure, especially the water system, minarets, and schools; he built a new bridge, a new mosque for Shaykh Maʿrūf al-Karkhī, and even built a new city, al-Maʾman, in Wasit district on the way to Basra, which he furnished with a school, a market, and a mosque.19 He further associated himself with the caliph’s family by marrying the former wife of the caliph’s son, Abū l-ʿAbbās Aḥmad, who also became a patron of the city and built a new school-ribāṭ complex, the ʿIṣmatiyya, which she richly endowed.20 And in 666/1268 under his rule the ḥajj resumed; he charged Arab tribes with the safe-conduct and return of the pilgrims. Some sources say (with some exaggeration) that under ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn Juvaynī’s rule Baghdad reached a level of prosperity greater than they had enjoyed under the caliphate.21 Thus, during the period of ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn Juvaynī, which corresponded to the first period of the ilkhanate that Lambton calls the period of expansion (because nomadic steppe traditions prevailed) and against the backdrop of a “cold war” between the Mongols and the Mamluks, there was a sense of cohesion and stability in Baghdad. This is attributable to three factors, as below.

16 17 18 19 20 21

Krawulsky, Mongolen und Ilḫāne 17. Amitai-Preiss, Mongols and Mamluks 1; also Amitai, The resolution. Vaṣṣāf, Tahrīr-i tārīkh 33 f.; al-Kutubī, Fawāt al-wafayāt ii, 452f. On his construction projects see Pseudo-Ibn al-Fuwaṭī, al-Ḥawādith al-jāmiʿa 357, 358, 365, 371, 372, 373–4, 408, 410, 413; Vaṣṣāf, Taḥrīr-i tārīkh 33–4. Pseudo-Ibn al-Fuwaṭī, al-Ḥawādith al-jāmiʿa 368, 373–4, 410. Barthold and Boyle, D̲ j̲uwaynī; al-Juvaynī, Tārīkh-i jahān-gushā i, xxx; al-Kutubī, Fawāt alwafayāt ii, 453.

346

gilli-elewy

(1) Under the Juvaynīs, who ruled according to the tradition of Muslim rulers, Baghdad experienced a period of stability as a result of the leadership of the governor and the Persian civil administration. (2) Local officials, especially qāḍīs, ʿulamāʾ, and imams, who were recognized by the population and had served under the caliph, played a central role in maintaining the continuity of sharīʿa law. For both the PersianMongol rule under Juvaynī and for local officials, individual loyalties to personal groups and the ruler himself were central. The cohesion of society through this period of turmoil can be attributed to well-defined city quarters, ʿulamāʾ in schools and mosques, and popular religious leaders (precursors to the Sufi ṭarīqas that later characterized Iran and especially the Chaghatayid khanate). And here, in accordance with what Albert Hourani demonstrated, the city elite was able to control a significant part of city life and govern in times of weakness or crisis.22 However, instead of the levels of belonging that Roy Mottahedeh defines for the urban elite (family and quarter, then profession, such as merchant, sufi, shaykh, scholar, or bureaucrat)23 for this period the primary source of belonging resulted from relatively defined quarters, institutions, and above all personal alliances (especially in the case of Juvaynī). (3) A sense of cohesion in the city resulted from the new political constellation that followed the fall of the Abbasid caliphate and shaped identity vis-à-vis the rest of the ilkhanate on the one hand, and the rest of the Muslim world, namely the Mamluks, on the other hand. Baghdad had become a city in an Arabic-speaking province, led by a Persian civil administration, loyal to the Ilkhanid court, but one that saw and represented itself in the tradition of Muslim rulers. Even though (as can be seen from numerous letters and embassies) from the Mamluk perspective the discourse of war against the Ilkhanids clearly carried religious connotations (restoring the supremacy of Islam and defending Islam against infidels),24 for local Muslim Persian civil administration and Arabic officials the religion of the Ilkhanids did not seem to matter much. What appears to have been more important was the Ilkhanids’ tolerance of and recognition of Muslim institutions, such as the offices of the qāḍīs, ʿulamāʾ, and imams.

22 23 24

Hourani, A history 130–7. Mottahedeh, Loyalty and Leadership 105–22. The diplomatic relations between the Mongols and the Mamluks for this period has been extensively discussed in Amitai, Broadbridge, and Heidemann.

baghdad between cairo and tabriz

347

Since the Seljuq period, Baghdad had been a deeply divided city; one characterized by semi-autonomous quarters separated by wasteland and gardens,25 numerous popular revolts, and political strife. Its history was also marked by devastating fires and floods. And these natural catastrophes, social, political, and religious divisions continued under the Mongol rule. In the face of this loss of symbolic unity, which had been represented by the caliphate as a sort of umma of unifying baraka in the collective imagination of chroniclers and historians,26 the Iraqi population became increasingly involved in popular religiosity, combined with Alid tendencies that were expressed publicly in collective prayers and processions.27 The institution of the caliphate was transferred to Cairo, and even though it was merely symbolic, it was instrumental in giving legitimacy to the Mamluks. Thus the supremacy of Sunni orthodoxy ended, and the ethnic, social, and religious diversity of Baghdad’s population became even more pronounced. For example, in 679/1280 the treatise written by the Jewish physician, Ibn Kammūna (Tanqīḥ al-abḥāth lil-milal al-thalāth) on the three monotheistic faiths represented a symbolic climax of this development.28 In this treatise, the author proposes a fundamental premise, that there is one single theory of prophecy and this is shared by Jews, Christians, and Muslims alike. The book created such an uproar in Baghdad that the governor, Majd alDīn Ibn al-Athīr, was forced to convene the ʿulamāʾ at the Mustanṣiriyya to find a solution. He was only able to calm the masses by telling them that they should come the next day and witness the author burning outside the city walls. In the meantime Ibn Kammūna was secretly taken to Ḥilla and later exiled to Aleppo. Baghdad henceforth became a provincial city that no longer competed with Cairo; rather, after Tabriz, it was a favored winter residence of the ordu and seems to have competed only with Ḥilla.29

25 26 27 28

29

See Lassner, Massignon and Baghdad 53–63; and Cahen, The historiography 295. See e.g., al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī and al-Yaʿqūbī. The role of the Shia in Iraq during the Ilkhanid period is very interesting, but must be addressed in a separate study. Pseudo-Ibn al-Fuwaṭī, al-Ḥawādith al-jāmiʿa 441–2. On Ibn Kammūna see Pourjavady and Schmidtke, A Jewish philosopher; Langermann, Ibn Kammūna; and Langermann, Ibn Kammūna at Aleppo; also, Ibn Kammūna, Examination. Muslims and Christians rejected the way their faiths were represented and composed rebuttals. It is interesting to note that he does not include a discussion of Buddhism, which was widespread among the Ilkhanids during this period. The above-mentioned diversity and multilingualism in Iraq was also reflected during Ibn Baṭṭūṭa’s visit to Basra: he was astonished when the imam’s sermon revealed many gross grammatical errors in the Arabic language. A qāḍī responded to him: “In this town there is not a man left who knows anything of the science of grammar.” Ibn Baṭṭūṭa, Travels 87.

348

gilli-elewy

The period following ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn Juvaynī’s death in 683/1283 up to the accession of Ghāzān in 695/1295 was a time of administrative disorder; there was a high turnover of officials, and a large number of so-called deputies took on dubious duties. In general, the Iraqi province experienced a financial breakdown: court spending and military expeditions emptied the treasury quickly and various desperate attempts were undertaken to increase the income of the province, including the brief introduction of chaw (paper money) in 693/1294. The Baghdadi population suffered recurrent high prices for food, bad harvests, a grain crisis, and an increasing number of attacks and raids from bandits and vagabonds. The backdrop of Mongol-Mamluk military and diplomatic “cold war” continued, and anyone suspected of collaborating or corresponding with the Mamluks was punished severely; however, this period was briefly interrupted by Tegüder Aḥmad’s initiative to end the war.30

3

Ghāzān—Abū Saʿīd

Under Ghāzān the offensives against the Mamluks intensified (699/1299, 699– 700/1300–1, and 703/1303); the ilkhan’s ambition to continue the Mongol expansion westward and invade Syria continued until his death in 703/1304.31 His ascension to the throne had several effects on Baghdad, which regained some of its previous symbolic importance as the “center of the world, the core of the earth” as al-Yaʿqūbī once put it, or “the house of salvation and the center of Islam.”32 The holy sites in Baghdad and other sacred Shiite sites in Najaf and Ḥilla received sizeable endowments and funding, as did building projects, irrigation projects, and caravanserais. Tabriz, which had been a nominal capital, benefited from Ghāzān’s grand construction endeavors. In Tabriz he built his greatest architectural project, his mausoleum complex, and encouraged settlement along the newly erected city wall.33

30

31 32

33

On Tegüder Aḥmad see Holt, The age 128–32; Allouche, Tegüder’s ultimatum; and Amitai, The conversion. Severe punishments occurred throughout the ilkhanate, e.g., the killing of the Seljuq Sultan Qilij Arslān IV under Abagha, see Cahen, Pre-Ottoman Turkey 195; AmitaiPreiss, Mongols and Mamluks 159–60. On these campaigns see Boyle, Dynastic and political history 387–94, Amitai, Whither the Ilkhanid army 221–64. Al-Yaʿqūbī, al-Buldān 233–4. Also, al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Taʾrīkh Baghdād 108–9; Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, Das Mongolische Weltreich 150: “Haus des Heils und Mittelpunkt des Islams.” Rashīd al-Dīn, Taʾrîẖ-i mubârak i, 207–14, including the waqfiyya; also Vaṣṣāf, Taḥrīr-i tārīkh

baghdad between cairo and tabriz

349

Iraq was also interesting for Ghāzān because it served his desire to create an image of his notably Shiite Muslim authority, in opposition to the Mamluks. Ghāzān’s attempts to centralize the government involved integrating Baghdad more closely into the rest of the ilkhanate, through several key officials in Baghdad’s provincial administration who went back and forth, and this led to a continued instability in the administrative leadership. Given the ilkhan’s foreign policy, Ghāzān’s increased interest in conquering Mamluk territory in the West, and the exchange of emissaries with the Mamluks, Baghdad became an important winter residence for the central ordu, where policies were formulated. For example, in 695/1296 Ghāzān headed to Baghdad, where he made important administrative decisions.34 It was also here that the scandal around Nawrūz35 unfolded and ultimately ended with his death and that of his entire family. Nawrūz had corresponded with the Mamluks during the last months of Baidu’s reign, and asked for help in overthrowing the ilkhan. But, by the time the sultan’s reply arrived, Ghāzān had taken over the throne; so to save himself, Nawrūz had a substitute letter forged by Jamāl al-Dīn Dastjirdānī, who had acted as secretary prior becoming the ṣāḥib-i dīvān. Nawrūz’s emissary to the Mamluks was ʿAlam al-Dīn Qayṣar, the clerk of a Baghdadi merchant who traveled regularly to Egypt. The clerk was questioned outside Baghdad and he testified to the veracity of the letters.36 After his execution, Nawrūz’s head was sent to Baghdad, where it was publicly displayed on one of the city gates.37 Thus Ghāzān set an example and warned not only the players in his court, but also the local population, of the consequences of any collaboration with the Mamluks. In this light, and without reading too much into the sources, we can see clearly the danger of corresponding, conspiring, and collaborating with the Mamluks coming from Baghdad and Iraq. Over the fifteen-year period between the death of ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn Juvaynī and the reforms of Ghāzān, Baghdad had come to be characterized by a lack of stable and effective local leadership, financial insecurity, increased raids, high food prices, food shortages, and arbitrary and

34 35 36

37

229–31; Blair and Bloom, The art 6. For Ghāzān’s and Öljeitü’s buildings, see Blair, Patterns of patronage; Blair, Religious art 123–9; and Blair, The Mongol capital. Pseudo-Ibn al-Fuwaṭī, al-Ḥawādith al-jāmiʿa 492; Rashīd al-Dīn, Taʾrîẖ-i mubârak i, 105. On Nawrūz, see Aubin, Émirs 53. Rashīd al-Dīn, Taʾrîẖ-i mubârak i, 106; Vaṣṣāf, Taḥrīr-i tārīkh 206–8, Pseudo-Ibn al-Fuwaṭī, al-Ḥawādith al-jāmiʿa 493–4; Khwāndamīr, Ḥabīb al-siyar, trans. Thackston iii, 83; Boyle, Dynastic and political history 382–3. Pseudo-Ibn al-Fuwaṭī, al-Ḥawādith al-jāmiʿa does not mention ʿAlam al-Dīn Qayṣar. Vaṣṣāf, Taḥrīr-i tārīkh 207.

350

gilli-elewy

excessive tax extortions. Given this, the border region may have become somewhat more receptive to what was coming from the West. Under his successor Oljeitü, Baghdad’s religious significance increased, as the overtly Shiite ilkhan recruited many of his advisors from Iraqi-Shiite scholars; he supported the Shiite holy sites, though the administration of the province remained unclear and unstable, and increasingly, he was compelled to distribute land grants (muqāṭaʿa) to retain control. During his reign Sulaymān b. Ḥusām al-Dīn Muhannā, the leader of the Āl Faḍl, an Arab tribe of northern Syria, broke away from the Mamluk sultan al-Nāṣir Muḥammad, and crossed over to the Ilkhanids.38 He was granted land (muqāṭaʿa in the region of Ḥilla and Kufa) and 3,000 taghār39 of grain from Iraq and Diyār Bakr, and then tried to encourage the ilkhan to attack the Mamluks.40 He was also involved in the famous escape of the amirs Qarāsunqur and Āqqūsh al-Afram.41 In 712/1312 there was an anti-Ilkhanid rebellion led by Saʿd al-Dīn Jakībān in Baghdad.42 During the reign of the last Ilkhanid ruler, Abū Saʿīd (r. 717–36/1317–35), who broke with his predecessor’s experiment with Shiism, the Mongols initiated a peace process with the Mamluks; this resulted in a peace treaty in 38

39 40

41

42

The Bedouin tribe of Āl Faḍl was part of the tribe of Rabīʿa of Ṭayyiʾ. They controlled the region of northern Syria, northern Mesopotamia, and the western Najd. They were only allowed to live on the steppe and were not permitted to cross over onto agricultural lands unless their livelihood was in danger. They fought on the side of the Mamluks during the battle of ʿAyn Jālūt and received land grants in exchange. They were charged with securing the border and prosecuting robbers and vagabonds. Muhannā was involved in confirming the identity of the caliph of Cairo. See al-Yūnīnī, Dhayl iv, 213–4; al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā iv, 203–10; Tritton, The tribes 567–8; Ayalon, The auxiliary forces 23, 27; on the Bedouin tribes see Poliak, Feudalism; Ibn Khaldūn, al-ʿIbar v, 438–9; Ibn Baṭṭūṭa, Travels 186. According to Ibn Kathīr, al-Bidāya wa-l-nihāya xiii, 356, he was already in contact with the Mongols in 693/1294. The presence of the different tribes in Iraq and their intertribal rivalries were a source of instability for the Iraqi population, especially in Basra, during the reign of Abū Saʿīd, see Qāshānī, Tārīkh-i Ūljaytū 199; Tritton, The tribes 569. One taghār corresponded to 100 mann of flour, i.e., 81.650kg (al-Juvaynī, The history ii, 609). Vaṣṣāf, Taḥrīr-i tārīkh 305; Qāshānī, Tārīkh-i Ūljaytū 142, mentions that he was well received and honored but does not mention the land grant. Giving land grants to support/pay military leaders was a sign that tax collection was otherwise not secure. It is interesting that he would give important agricultural land to a nomad to manage. On Qarāsunqur see Melville, ‘Sometimes by the sword’; also, Little, Introduction 100–36. Qarāsunqur and Āqqūsh were both received by the Ilkhan Öljeitü in Sulṭāniyya in 712/1312 and received the governorships of Maragha and Hamadan (Vaṣṣāf, Taḥrīr-i tārīkh 305; Qāshānī, Tārīkh-i Ūljaytū 136, 141–2; Ibn Baṭṭūṭa, Travels 94). In 716/1316 he set up his winter camp in the vicinity of Baghdad (Qāshānī, Tārīkh-i Ūljaytū 200). He was a deputy of Jamāl al-Dīn Dastjirdānī (Pseudo-Ibn al-Fuwaṭī, al-Ḥawādith al-jāmiʿa 470) and is referred to as fidāʾiyyān-i Shām. Qāshānī, Tārīkh-i Ūljaytū 144.

baghdad between cairo and tabriz

351

723/1323.43 A new array of ideologies about rule and sovereignty emerged in the diplomatic field and marked a new phase in Ilkhanid-Mamluk relations, one in which they each acknowledged the other as legitimate Muslim rulers, and ceased any attempts to take over the other’s territory in the name of Chinggisid supremacy, religious superiority, or Muslim protection against infidels.44 Though this new era of peace ended much of the overt hostility between the two, “a covert struggle for primacy over the patronage of Islam”45 ensued, centered on the influence and patronage of the holy cities in the Hijaz.46 According to the descriptions of Ibn Baṭṭūṭa, Baghdad continued to play a significant religious role. In particular, the city served as a gathering place for the yearly ḥajj (pilgrimage); caravans were equipped and sponsored by the ilkhan and ruling nobility before embarking for Mecca.47 As before, donations, gifts, and alms were collected and taken to the holy sites in Mecca; these donations also included riches sent by the ruling house.48 Evidently Abū Saʿīd, in competition with al-Nāṣir Muḥammad, saw the pilgrimage as a way to assert his position and demonstrate his patronage of Islam.49

4

Post-Ilkhanid Baghdad

After the death of Abū Saʿīd (736/1335) the empire fell into a period of factional struggles.50 For Baghdad and southern Iraq the death of the ilkhan marked

43 44 45 46 47

48 49 50

On the end of the Mongol-Mamluk war, see especially Amitai, The resolution; Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 99–114. Here I refer to the admirable work of Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology, on working out the evolution and development of Mongol and Mamluk ideology. Ibid. 100. See Melville, The year of the elephant, and Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 125–31. Ibn Baṭṭūṭa, Travels 184. The dispatch of Iraqi pilgrims was irregular prior to Ghāzān’s conversion; pilgrims were usually obliged to join Syrian caravans departing from Damascus (Melville, The year of the elephant 198). The year 666/1268 was the first year the pilgrimage resumed after the conquest, then it again left in 669/1271 and 688/1589. Ghāzān showed interest in furnishing the caravan and securing its passage, but this was thwarted by military expeditions and there is no record that the caravan ever reached Mecca (Vaṣṣāf, Taḥrīr-i tārīkh 390, 414; Melville, The year of the elephant 199). Ibn Baṭṭūṭa, Travels 153. Ibid. 184, 185, 393; Melville, The year of the elephant 202–3. For this period of factional struggle see Melville, The fall of Amir Chupan 43–59; also Boyle, Dynastic and political history 413–5; Ilisch, Geschichte der Artuqidenherrschaft 98– 104; Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 138–47, 151–67; Wing, The Decline; and Wing, The Jalayirids 74–94.

352

gilli-elewy

the beginning of a period of violent competition between various contenders from the Chobanid, Jalayirid, then Timurid, Qara and Aq Qoyunlu houses. And in the midst of these struggles the recognition of the Mamluk sultan and his military support played a central role in the establishment of local or regional sovereignty in Baghdad; the various contenders for power sought to gain military support and recognition from the Mamluk sultan.51 Al-Nāṣir Muḥammad no longer had to share or compete with another sovereign, rather his new role defined him as the “senior sovereign surrounded by a constellation of junior rulers.”52 Iraq and Azerbaijan were thrown onto the center stage of these factional struggles, mainly between the Jalayirids and the Chobanids, where the one that wanted to gain the upper hand had to gain control over Baghdad, receive the Mamluk sultan’s patronage, and rule as his governor.53 See, for example, ʿAlī Pādshāh’s correspondence and Mūsā Khān’s (descendent of Baidu, backed by ʿAlī Pādshāh) emissaries sent to Cairo in Shawwāl 736/June 1336 and Rajab 737/February–March 1337, and the response recognizing Mūsā Khān’s authority and titles, however, it was clear that the Mamluk sultan maintained religious seniority.54 Between 736/1336 and 740/1340, Shaykh Ḥasan-i Buzurg sent numerous emissaries to Cairo on behalf of his Chinggisid puppet and also sought military support from the Mamluk sultan and in return promised to swear allegiance to him.55

51

52

53

54 55

The contenders were first Arpa, a descendent of Chinggis Khān and husband of the Sātī Beg; then Mūsā Khān, a grandson of Baidu who was backed by ʿAlī Pādshāh (governor of Baghdad); then Hülegü’s descendent Muḥammad b. Yolqutluq (a puppet for Shaykh Ḥasan) and his ally Ḥājjī-Taghay. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 138 and chap. 5, demonstrates how during this period the Mamluk ideology of kingship included the notion of the sultan being a senior sovereign and supreme guardian of Islam. See e.g., ʿAlī Pādshāh’s correspondence with Muḥammad, in which he acknowledged his seniority and asked for his support, and in return promised to swear allegiance to him and rule Baghdad as his governor (see al-Fākhirī, Taʾrīkh 192; al-Jazarī, Taʾrīkh iii, 872–3; al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā vii, 280–282; Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 139–40). Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 140. Several emissaries came to Cairo, first in Muḥarram 736/August–September 1336 (alMaqrīzī, al-Sulūk ii, 407), the second in Rabīʿ I 737/October–September 1337, then Shaʿbān 738/February–March 1338 (al-Fākhirī, Taʾrīkh 197; al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk ii, 446), and one from Ḥājjī-Taghay in Dhū l-Qaʿda 738/May–June 1338 (al-Fākhirī, Taʾrīkh 198), then two separate ones from Ḥājjī-Taghay and Shaykh Ḥasan in Shawwāl 739/April–May 1339 (alFākhirī, Taʾrīkh 202; al-ʿAzzāwī, Tārīkh al-ʿIrāq ii, 30–1); then more embassies arrived from Shaykh Ḥasan in Jumādā II 740/December 1339-January 1340 and in Dhū l-Qaʿda/April– May 1340 (al-Fākhirī, Taʾrīkh 202). On these emissaries see Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 141–2.

baghdad between cairo and tabriz

353

In the meantime, on Dhū l-Ḥijja 736/24 July 1336, ʿAlī Pādshāh died in battle against Shaykh Ḥasan-i Buzurg; Mūsā Khān was killed a year later in 737/1337.56 He lost Azerbaijan to Malik Ashraf, but by 740/1370 Shaykh Ḥasan-i Buzurg was able to gain control over Baghdad, which he chose as his capital city. In the following year he again sent for military support from the Mamluk sultan Muḥammad, and in return promised to recognize him on coins and in the Friday sermon, and to rule in his name. Coins were supposedly minted in Baghdad; this proof was sent in the hands of Shaykh Ḥasan-i Buzurg’s nephew, together with a document attesting his loyalty.57 It is clear that Egypt’s position was instrumental to the establishment of his power in Iraq,58 especially amidst the continued warfare between various Mongol tribes and struggles between the Arab tribes of Āl Ṭayyiʾ. It has been debated in the literature whether and when Shaykh Ḥasan considered himself an independent ruler.59 Anne Broadbridge has concluded that based on numismatic evidence, he seems to have replaced his title “ulus beg” or “amīr-i ulus” with the title “sulṭān” by the 750s/1350s.60 If he did so, it remains to be determined how that might have reflected on his relationship to the Mamluks. Shaykh Ḥasan’s wife, Dilshād Khātūn61 and his aide Khwāja Marjān became two central figures closely associated with the development of Baghdad: Dilshād Khātūn was referred to as the queen of Baghdad and remembered for her beauty, her undisputed power, her good deeds, and her patronage of the city.62 When in 748/1347 Malik Ashraf (a grandson of Amir Choban), ruler of Azerbaijan, attacked Baghdad in Shaykh Ḥasan-i Buzurg’s absence with the support of the Arab amir Aḥmad, Dilshād Khātūn and his aide Khwāja Marjān protected

56 57

58 59 60 61

62

Melville, The fall of Amir Chupan 51–5; al-Fākhirī, Taʾrīkh 195–7, 206–8. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 144–5. These coins have not been found, see al-ʿAzzāwī, Tārīkh al-ʿIrāq ii, 31, and Album, Studies 96 and note 137. The Mamluk sultan Muḥammad died shortly afterward (21 Dhū l-Ḥijja 741/7 June 1341) and was succeeded by a powerless new sultan al-Manṣūr Abū Bakr, henceforth “the political reality of Qalawunid rule began to crumble silently behind the edifice of kingly supremacy that Muḥammad had built” (Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 145). See also al-ʿAzzāwī, Tārīkh al-ʿIrāq ii, 35. See Roemer, The Jalayirids 5; Boyle, Dynastic and political history 415; Spuler, Die Mongolen 112, 253; Smith, D̲ j̲alāyir, 401. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 156–7. She was the eldest daughter of the Chobanid Dimashq Khwāja, first married to Abū Saʿīd before marrying Shaykh Ḥasan. Although married to Shaykh Ḥasan she was still supported by her Chobanid kinsmen, some of whom found asylum in Baghdad (Mustawfī, Ẓafarnāma 27; Hāfiẓ-i Abrū, Dhayl 219; Melville, Delshād Khātūn). Al-Ṣafadī, al-Wāfī xiv, 24; al-ʿAzzāwī, Tārīkh al-ʿIrāq ii, 68–9.

354

gilli-elewy

the city and forced them to retreat. However, she also prevented the Jalayirds from pursuing them and granted asylum to some Chobanids.63 Al-Ṣafadī says that Shaykh Ḥasan grew suspicious of Dilshād Khātūn and poisoned her. She died in 752/1351 and was buried in Najaf.64 Ḥasan-i Buzurg died in 758/1357 and was praised for his fairness and equity and for his efforts in bringing prosperity and welfare to the inhabitants of Baghdad. He improved intellectual life, patronized art and architecture, and Baghdad started to regain some of its cultural significance.65 The famous Salmān Sāwajī composed an elegy upon his death.66 He was buried in Najaf as well. Khwāja Marjān, a former Greek slave of Öljeitü, was appointed governor of Baghdad under Shaykh Ḥasan-i Buzurg and also sponsored the construction of charitable buildings in the city, including a caravansary, a hospital, and a mosque-madrasa complex known as the Marjāniyya that was designed and decorated by Persian artists and resembled the Niẓāmiyya. The endowment inscriptions (dated 758/1357) were written by a famous Persian calligrapher and are set into one of the walls that still stands today.67 Shaykh Ḥasan-i Buzurg was succeeded by his son Shaykh Uways (r. 758– 76/1357–75), who was also much esteemed by the Baghdadi population for his talents, poetry, music, fine paintings, and patronage.68 He was the first to officially take the title of “sulṭān” as had the Ilkhanids, and was also referred to as such in the diplomatic correspondences with the Mamluks.69 However, Shaykh Uways seemed to have been militarily ambitious from the beginning; he showed an interest in expanding his state and power, especially to Azerbaijan, which his father had lost.70 When the khan of the Golden Horde, Jānibeg, defeated and killed the Chobanid Malik Ashraf and briefly occupied Tabriz before dying shortly thereafter, Shaykh Uways saw the opportunity to conquer Tabriz, which was by then also contested by the Muzaffarid Mubāriz al-Dīn Muḥammad. Shaykh Uways succeeded in taking Tabriz in 760/1359, and he

63 64 65 66 67 68 69

70

Mustawfī, Ẓafarnāma 42–4; Hāfiẓ-i Abrū, Dhayl 226–67; al-ʿAzzāwī, Tārīkh al-ʿIrāq ii, 54. Al-Ṣafadī, al-Wāfī xiv, 24. Al-ʿAzzāwī, Tārīkh al-ʿIrāq ii, 78–9 (citing al-ʿAynī, ʿIqd al-jumān). Ibid. ii, 79. Ibid. ii, 84–94; Blair and Bloom, The art 18 and 22. Al-ʿAzzāwī, Tārīkh al-ʿIrāq ii, 81–2; also Blair and Bloom, The art 33. Nakhjawānī, Dastūr al-kātib i/1, 14; also Woods, The Aqquyunlu 7; al-ʿAzzāwī, Tārīkh alʿIrāq iii, 88, 92; Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 163. See also Hermann and Doerfer, Ein persisch-mongolischer Erlass 29–30. Ilisch, Geschichte der Artuqidenherrschaft 116, demonstrates the threat the Artuqid ruler al-Ṣāliḥ felt coming from Shaykh Uways. See also Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 163.

baghdad between cairo and tabriz

355

chose it as his summer residence.71 Even though his reign is remembered as the apogee of the Jalayirids, for its patronage of art and architecture and its cultural vitality, it was also characterized by several military campaigns in Shirvan, central Persia, Jurjan and Astarabad, and the Diyār Bakr region in the West. During one of those campaigns, probably in 765/1364, his governor in Baghdad, Khwāja Marjān, rebelled against him and in early Jumādā I 767/January–February 1366 sent emissaries to Cairo to ask for Mamluk military support. He represented himself as the new Mamluk governor in Baghdad, promised to include the Qalawunid sultan al-Ashraf Shaʿbān (r. 764–78/1363–77) in the khuṭba and on coins, and assured him that he had the following of the Baghdadi population.72 The Mamluk sultan was of course very pleased with the news, and sent back robes, banners, and an appointment decree.73 Shaykh Uways also sent emissaries to Cairo, demanding that Egypt not grant Khwāja Marjān asylum, but they were treated disrespectfully and sent back. Nothing ensued from the diplomatic éclat with the Mamluks. Shaykh Uways was able to suppress the rebellion the following year,74 and Khwāja Marjān’s life was spared by the intervention of religious representatives from Baghdad.75 The two reconciled, and he was reinstated as governor in 769/1367–8. The rebellion of Khwāja Marjān is difficult to explain. The sources hint that he might have acted under the influence of various disobedient amirs, who gave up their cause once Shaykh Uways showed up at the gates of Baghdad, or even by Shaykh Uways’ brother, who sought revenge for the death of a third brother.76 Shaykh Uways seems to have been a fair and just ruler who was much liked for all the reasons mentioned above. In 775/1373, when the Tigris flooded, inundating forty-six thousand houses and ruining a large portion of the city, Shaykh Uways ordered the amirs from Tabriz to help rebuild the city, repair farmlands, and then exempted the city from paying taxes for five years.77

71 72

73 74 75 76 77

Mustawfī, Ẓafarnāma 66–70, 81, 90; Hāfiẓ-i Abrū, Dhayl 242. On the rise to power of Shaykh Uways, see also Wing, The Jalayirids 101–7. On Khwāja Marjān’s rebellion, see Mustawfī, Ẓafarnāma 42–91; Khwāndamīr, Ḥabīb alsiyar, trans. Thackston, iii, 137; al-Samarqandī, Maṭlaʿ-i saʿdayn i, 384–6; Mīrkhwānd, Tārīkh v, 984–5; Akopyan and Mosanef, Anonymous coins; and Wing, The Jalayirids 108–10. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iii, 112–4; al-ʿAzzāwī, Tārīkh al-ʿIrāq ii, 97; Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 163–4. Hāfiẓ-i Abrū, Dhayl 240–1; Mustawfī, Ẓafarnāma 74–8. Hāfiẓ-i Abrū, Dhayl 243; Mustawfī, Ẓafarnāma 78, 83; Khwāndamīr, Ḥabīb al-siyar, trans. Thackston, iii, 137. Mustawfī, Ẓafarnāma 82, 94, 105; Ghiyāth al-Dīn, al-Tārīkh 87–8; al-ʿAzzāwī, Tārīkh al-ʿIrāq ii, 110. Khwāndamīr, Ḥabīb al-siyar, trans. Thackston, iii, 138.

356

gilli-elewy

Khwāja Marjān was a loyal servant of the Ilkhanids as the former Greek slave of Öljeitü, then as an advisor to the Jalayirids.78 He was attached to the city and had ordered the building of the major Marjānī complex. So why did Khwāja Marjān rebel against Shaykh Uways? Even though Shaykh Uways had retained Baghdad as his capital, his military campaigns and political struggles obliged him to stay in Persia and Tabriz for long periods of time, where he finally died in 776/1374. Did Khwāja Marjān see a window of opportunity when Shaykh Uways was constantly away fighting to subdue disobedient locals rulers and amirs? Did Khwāja Marjān feel an affinity to the Mamluks, and did they encourage him to rebel? (Though in fact Shaykh Uways’ military ambitions had become dangerous for the Mamluks.) While he was promised support by the Mamluk sultan, the latter did not actually send any military support to Baghdad. When Khwāja Marjān faced Shaykh Uways’ troops, Khwāja Marjān ordered that the dams in the city be broken, thus flooding the city, and preventing Shaykh Uways from advancing his army. Shaykh Uways used boats to attack and was able to defeat Khwāja Marjān’s army, then Shaykh Uways surrounded the city. Shortly afterward, religious figures emerged and interceded on behalf of Khwāja Marjān. He was forgiven, and even reinstated as governor two years later. In a recent article, Akopyan and Mosanef analyze new numismatic evidence and place it in the context of this rebellion. Three anonymous coins (without a named ruler) minted in Baghdad were re-dated and now coincide with the rebellion of Khwāja Marjān and his declaration of independence in 765– 6/1364–5. On the coin the name of Shaykh Uways is substituted by Allāh huwa l-muʾayyad bi-naṣrihi (God! He is affirmed by His assistance). They interpret the inscription “to mean that the new ruler sought to justify his legitimacy by a direct appeal to God, insofar as there was no longer an effective Jalayrid who could be invoked as a source of legitimacy.”79 According to Akopyan and Mosanef this religious reference to Quran 3:13 could have been written by Shaykh Uways to commemorate his suppression of the rebellion, or by Khwāja Marjān as an expression of his hope for God’s help in the conflict;80 however, they seem to favor attributing it to Khwāja Marjān by explaining that Khwāja Marjān was pious man: perhaps the main reason for his revolt was to restore the Abbasid caliphate in Baghdad. It could have been for this reason that he established

78 79 80

This can be seen from the epigraph of 758/1357 on the Marjānī complex. Akopyan and Mosanef, Anonymous coins 19. Ibid.

baghdad between cairo and tabriz

357

special relations with the Mamluks with the aim of inviting the Abbasid caliph from Egypt to Baghdad, their traditional centre once the city had been added to the Mamluk realm.81 Jalayirid ideals of kingship combined Chinggisid and especially the Muslim Ilkhanid tradition, and sought the recognition of the Mamluk sultan based on the presumption of the sultan’s patronage and seniority.82 So whereas Shaykh Ḥasan and Shaykh Uways recognized the seniority of the Mamluk sultan, they centered their rule on Muslim Ilkhanid standards. Khwāja Marjān’s claim to independence does not fit into the Muslim Ilkhanid tradition, as he did not fit the “chingizid paradigm,”83 and his servitude to the Ilkhanids and Jalayirids are clear proof of his subordinate social status. Moreover, since he did not seem to have had a Chinggisid puppet, his invocation of the Islamic Mamluk-Abbasid model of kingship was of course very attractive, if he wanted to carve out a position for himself. Thus, his adaptation of this model need not necessarily be attributed to his piety, but could rather point to his self-interest. His proposal might have been interesting to the Mamluks as well, because his submission to them would have meant not only accepting the Mamluk sultan’s seniority and patronage, but also his actual rule. However, the ideal of the Abbasid caliphate seemed to be in the long distant past, and the symbolic role of the caliphate as upholder of the umma was no longer real. Public institutions and shaykhs maintained religious order and law on a local level. As for the Mamluks, their interest also seems to have been merely nominal and rather hollow.84 Shaykh Uways was succeeded by Ḥusayn (r. 776–83/1374–82), who spent most of his time fighting against the Muzaffarids and then Sulṭān Aḥmad (r. 784–812/1382– 1410), whose rule gradually ended with the westward advancement of Tīmūr and the devastating capture of Baghdad in 795/1393.85 Tīmūr had to reconquer the city several times before Sulṭān Aḥmad left Baghdad and was imprisoned by the Mamluks out of fear of revenge. In 840/1437, al-Maqrīzī writes: “Baghdad is in ruin; there are no more mosques, believers, call to prayer or market. Most of the palm trees have dried up; most of the channels are blocked. It can no longer be called a city.”86 His evaluation was probably inflated by his pride

81 82 83 84 85 86

Ibid. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 146, 156–7. Ibid. 11. Ibid. 164. On Sulṭān Aḥmad’s flights to the Mamluks and his perception by Tīmūr, see Patrick Wing’s contribution to this volume. Aubin, Tamerlan 308.

358

gilli-elewy

in his hometown, Cairo, which had reached a height; however, his description clearly echoes the extensive destruction the city endured during Tīmūr’s invasion, and the end of the Jalayirid sultanate.

Bibliography Primary Sources Bar Hebraeus, The chronography of Gregory Abū’l-Faraj, 1225–1286, trans. E.A. Wallis Budge, 2 vols., Oxford 1932, repr. 1976. al-Fākhirī, Taʾrīkh salāṭīn al-mamālīk, ed. K.V. Zetterstéen, Beiträge zur Geschichte der Mamlukensultane in den Jahren 690–741 der Higra nach arabischen Handschriften, Leiden 1919. Ghiyāth al-Dīn ʿAbdallāh b. Fatḥ Allāh, al-Tārīkh al-Ghiyāthī, ed. Ṭ.N. al-Ḥamdānī, Baghdad 1975. Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Dhayl-i Jāmiʿ al-tavārīkh-i rashīdī, ed. Kh. Bayānī, Tehran 1350 Sh/1971. Ibn Baṭṭūṭa, Travels in Asia and Africa, 1325–1354, trans. H.A.R. Gibb, London 1929, repr. New Delhi 2006. Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, Das Mongolische Weltreich. Al-‘Umarīs Darstellung der mongolischen Reiche in seinem Werk Masālik al-abṣār fī mamālik al-amṣār, ed. and trans. K. Lech, Wiesbaden 1968. Ps.-Ibn al-Fuwaṭī, al-Ḥawādith al-jāmiʿa wa-l-tajārib al-nāfiʿa fī l-miʾa al-sābiʿa, ed. M. Jawād and M.R. al-Shabībī, Baghdad 1932. Ibn Kammūna, Examination of the three faiths, trans. M. Perlmann, Los Angeles and Berkeley 1971. Ibn Kathīr, al-Bidāya wa-l-nihāya fī l-tārīkh, 14 vols., repr. Beirut 1977. Ibn al-Kāzarūnī, Mukhtaṣar al-taʾrīkh min awwal al-zamān ilā muntahā dawlat Banī ʿAbbās, ed. M. Jawād, Baghdad 1970. Ibn Khaldūn, Kitāb al-ʿIbar wa-dīwān al-mubtadaʾ wa-l-khabar fī ayyām al-ʿArab wal-ʿAjam wa-l-Barbar wa-man ʿāṣarahum min dhawī al-sulṭān al-akbar, vol. V, Būlāq 1867–8. Ibn Shaddād, Taʾrīkh al-Malik al-Ẓāhir, ed. A. Ḥuṭayṭ, Beirut and Wiesbaden 1983. Ibn al-Ṭiqṭaqā, Kitāb al-Fakhrī fī l-ādāb al-sulṭāniyya wa-l-duwal al-islāmiyya, Beirut 1966. al-Jazarī, Taʾrīkh Ibn al-Jazarī l-musammā Ḥawādith al-zamān wa-anbāʾihi wa-wafayāt al-akābir wa-l-aʿyān min abnāʾihi l-maʿrūf bi-Taʾrīkh Ibn al-Jazarī, ed. ʿU.ʿA. al-S. Tadmurī, 3 vols., Sidon and Beirut 1998. al-Juvaynī, The history of the world conqueror, trans. J.A. Boyle, 2 vols., Manchester 1958. al-Juvaynī, Taʾrīkh-i jahān-gushā, ed. M.M. b. ʿA. al-W. Qazvīnī, 3 vols., Leiden 1912–37.

baghdad between cairo and tabriz

359

al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Taʾrīkh Baghdād, 14 vols., Cairo 1966. Khwāndamīr, Ḥabīb al-siyar fī akhbār-i afrād-i bashar, trans. and ed. W.M. Thackston, Habibu’s-siyar, vol. iii: The reign of the Mongol and the Turk, Cambridge 1994. al-Kutubī, Fawāt al-wafayāt, ed. M. al-D. ʿAbd al-Ḥamīd, 2 vols., Cairo 1951–2. al-Maqrīzī, Kitāb al-Sulūk li-maʿrifat duwal al-mulūk, ed. M.M. Ziyāda et al., 4 vols., Cairo 1934–74. Mīrkhwānd, Tārīkh-i Rawżat al-ṣafāʾ, ed. R.Q.Kh. Hidāyat, 10 vols., Tehran 1337 Sh/1959– 60. Mustawfī, Ḥamd Allāh Qazwīnī, Ẓafarnāma, in L.J. Ward, The Ẓafarnāma of Ḥamd Allāh Qazwīnī Mustawfī and the Il-Khān dynasty of Iran, PhD, University of Manchester 1983. Nakhjawānī, Dastūr al-kātib fī taʿyīn al-marātib, ed. A.A. ʿAlizade, vol. I, 1–2, Moscow 1964–71. al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā fī ṣināʿat al-inshāʾ, ed. M.Ḥ. Shams al-Dīn, 15 vols., Beirut 1987. Qāshānī, Tārīkh-i Ūljaytū: tārīkh-i pādishāh Saʿīd Ghiyāth al-Dīn wa-l-Dunyā Ūljaytū sulṭān Muḥammad, ed. M. Hambly, Tehran 1970. Rashīd al-Dīn, Jāmiʿ al-tawārīkh, ed. B. Karīmī, 2 vols., Tehran 1367/1988. Rashīd al-Dīn, Taʾrîẖ-i mubârak-i Ġâzânî des R.D. Faḍlallâh. Geschichte der Îlẖâne Abâġâ bis Gaiḫâtû (1265–1295), ed. K. Jahn, Prague 1941. al-Ṣafadī, al-Wāfī bi-l-wafayāt, ed. H. Ritter et al., 30 vol., Beirut and Wiesbaden 1931– 2010. al-Samarqandī, Maṭlaʿ-i saʿdayn va-majmaʿ-i baḥrayn, vol. I, Tehran 1372 Sh/1994. Shabānkāraʾī, Majmaʿ al-ansāb, ed. M.H. Muḥaddith, Tehran 1363 Sh/1984. Vaṣṣāf, Taḥrīr-i tārīkh-i Vaṣṣāf, ed. ʿA. al-M. Ayātī, Tehran 1346/1967. al-Yaʿqūbī, Kitāb al-Buldān, ed. J. De Goeje, Leiden 1892. al-Yūnīnī, Dhayl Mirʾāt al-zamān, 4 vols., Hyderabad 1954.

Secondary Sources Akopyan, A. and F. Mosanef, Anonymous coins from the time of the Jalayirid rebel, Khwaja Marjan, in Journal of the Oriental Numismatic Society 210 (2012), 17–9. Album, S., Studies in Ilkhanid history and numismatics I: A late Ilkhanid hoard (743/ 1341), in SIr 13/1 (1984), 49–116. Allouche, A., Tegüder’s ultimatum to Qalawun, in IJMES 22/4 (1990), 437–46. Amitai, R., Mamluks of Mongol origin and their role in early Mamluk political life, in MSR 12 (2008), 119–36. Amitai, R., The conversion of Tegüder Ilkhan to Islam, in JSAI 25 (2001), 15–43. Amitai, R., The resolution of the Mongol-Mamluk war, in Amitai and M. Biran (eds.), Mongols, Turks, and others: Eurasion nomads and the sedentary world, Leiden 2005, 359–90.

360

gilli-elewy

Amitai, R., Whither the Ilkhanid army? Ghazan’s first campaign into Syria (1299–1300), in N. Di Cosmo (ed.), Warfare in inner Asian history, Leiden 2002, 221–64. Amitai-Preiss, R., Mongol imperial ideology and the Ikhanid war against the Mamluks, in Amitai and D. Morgan (eds.), The Mongol empire and its legacy, Leiden 1999, 57– 72. Amitai-Preiss, R., Mongols and Mamluks: The Mamluk Ilkhānid war, 1260–1281, Cambridge 1995. Aubin, J., Émirs mongols et vizirs persans dans les remous de l’acculturation, Paris 1995. Aubin, J., Tamerlan à Bagdad, in Arabica 9 (1962), 303–9. Ayalon, D., L’Esclavage du mamelouk, Jerusalem 1951; repr. in Ayalon, The Mamluk military society, London 1970. Ayalon, D., The auxiliary forces of the Mamluk sultanate, in Der Islam 65/1 (1988), 13– 37. al-ʿAzzāwī, ʿA., Tārīkh al-ʿIrāq bayn iḥtilālayn: Ḥukūmat al-Jalāyiriyya, 3 vols., Baghdad 1935–49. Barthold, W. and J.A. Boyle, D̲ j̲uwaynī, ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn ʿAṭā-Malik, in EI2, ii, 606–7. Blair, Sh., Patterns of patronage and production in Ilkhanid Iran: The case of Rashīd alDīn, in Blair (ed.), The court of the Ilk-Khans, 1290–1340: The Barakat Trust Conference on Islamic Art and History St. John’s College, Oxford 1996, 39–62. Blair, Sh., Religious art of the Ilkhanids, in L. Komaroff and S. Carboni (eds.), The legacy of Genghis Khan: Courtly art and culture in western Asia, 1256–1353, New York 2002, 104–33. Blair, Sh., The Mongol capital of Sultaniyya: ‘The imperial’, in Iran 24 (1986), 139–51. Blair, Sh. and J. Bloom, The art and architecture of Islam 1250–1800, New Haven CT 1995. Boyle, J.A., Dynastic and political history of the Il-Khāns, in Cambridge history of Iran, vol. 5, ed. J.A. Boyle, Cambridge 1968, 303–417. Broadbridge, A.F., Kingship and ideology in the Islamic and Mongol worlds, Cambridge 2008. Brockelmann, C., Geschichte der arabischen Litteratur, 2 vols. and 3 vols. of supplement, Weimar-Leiden 1898–1942. Cahen, C., Mouvements populaires et autonomisme urbain dans l’Asie musulmane du moyen âge, in Arabica 5 (1958), 225–50, and 6 (1959), 233–63. Cahen, C., Pre-Ottoman Turkey: A general survey of the material and spiritual culture and history, c. 1071–1330, New York 1968. Cahen, C., The historiography of the Seljuqid period, in B. Lewis und P.M. Holt (eds.), Historians of the Middle East, London 1962, 59–78. Chamberlain, M., Knowledge and social practice in medieval Damascus, Cambridge 1994. Gilli-Elewy, H., Baghdad nach dem Sturz des Kalifats: Die Geschichte einer Provinz unter īlḫānischer Herrschaft (656–735/1258–1335), Berlin 2000.

baghdad between cairo and tabriz

361

Gilli-Elewy, H., The Mongol court in Baghdad: The Juwayni brothers between local court and central court, in A. Fuess and J.-P. Hartung (eds.), Court cultures in the Muslim world, seventh to ninth centuries, London and New York 2011, 168–81. Haarmann, U., Quellen zur frühen Mamlukenzeit, Freiburg 1970. Heidemann, St., Das Aleppiner Kalifat (AD1261): vom Ende des Kalifats in Baghdad über Aleppo zu den Restaurationen in Kairo, Leiden 1994. Herrmann, G. and G. Doerfer, Ein persisch-mongolischer Erlass des Ğalāyiriden Šeyḫ Oveys, in CAJ 19 (1975), 1–88. Hodgson, M., The venture of Islam, 2 vols. Chicago 1974. Holt, P.M., The age of the crusades: The near east from the eleventh century to 1517, London and New York 1986. Hourani, A., A history of the Arab peoples, Harvard 1991, repr. 2002. Ilisch, L., Geschichte der Artuqidenherrschaft von Mardin zwischen Mamluken und Mongolen 1260–1410AD, PhD, Universität Muenster 1984. Iqbāl, M., Ibn al-Fuwati, in IC II (1937), 516–22. Khoury, D.R., State and provincial society in the Ottoman empire: Mosul, 1540–1834, Cambridge 1997. Krawulsky, D., Mongolen und Ilḫāne: Ideologie und Geschichte, Beirut 1989. Lambton, A.K.S., Continuity and change in medieval Persia: Aspects of administrative, economic and social history, 11th–14th century, London 1988. Langermann, Y.T., Ibn Kammūna and the ‘new wisdom’ of the thirteenth century, in Arabic Sciences and Philosophy, vol. 15, Cambridge 2005, 277–327. Langermann, Y.T., Ibn Kammūna at Aleppo, in JRAS, 17 (2007), 1–19. Lassner, J., Massignon and Baghdad: The complexities of growth in an imperial city, in JESHO IX (1966), 1–28. Little, D., Introduction to Mamlūk historiography: An analysis of Arabic annalistic and biographical sources for the reign of al-Malik an-Nāṣir Muḥammad ibn Qalā’ūn, Wiesbaden 1970. Manz, B., Power, politics, and religion in Timurid Iran, Cambridge and New York 2007. Melville, Ch., Delšad Kātūn, in EIr, online edition. Melville, Ch., ‘Sometimes by the sword, sometimes by the dagger’: The role of the Isma‘ilis in Mamlūk-Mongol relations in the 8th/14th century, in F. Daftary (ed.), Mediaeval Isma‘ili History and Thought, New York 1996, 247–63. Melville, Ch., The fall of Amir Chupan and the decline of the Ilkhanate, 1327–37: A decade of discord in Mongol Iran, Bloomington IN 1999. Melville, Ch., The year of the elephant: Mamluk-Mongol rivalry in the Hejaz in the reign of Abū Sa‘īd (1317–1335), in SIr 21 (1992), 197–214. Mottahedeh, R., Loyalty and leadership in an early Islamic society, Princeton 1980. Nobutaka, N., The rank and status of military refugees in the Mamluk army: A reconsideration of the Wāfidīyah, in MSR 10 (2006), 55–81.

362

gilli-elewy

Paul, J., Herrscher, Gemeinwesen, Vermittler: Ostiran und Transoxanien in vormongolischer Zeit, Stuttgart 1996. Poliak, A.N., Feudalism in Egypt, Syria, Palestine, and the Lebanon 1250–1900, London 1939. Pourjavady, R. and S. Schmidtke, A Jewish philosopher of Baghdad, ʿIzz al-Dawla Ibn Kammūna (d. 683/1284) and his writings, Leiden 2006. Roemer, H., The Jalayirids, Muzaffarids and Sarbadārs, in J.A. Boyle (ed.), Cambridge history of Iran, vol. VI: The Timurid and Safavid Periods, Cambridge 1986, 1–41. Rosenthal, F., Ibn al-Fuwaṭī, in EI2, iii, 769–70. al-Shabībī, M.R., Muʾarrikh al-ʿIrāq Ibn al-Fuwaṭī: baḥth fī adwār al-taʾrīkh al-ʿirāqī min mustahall al-ʿaṣr al-ʿabbāsī ilā awākhir al-ʿaṣr al-mughūlī, Baghdad 1950. Shoshan, B., The politics of notables in medieval Islam, in Asian and African Studies 20 (1986), 179–215. Smith, J.M., D̲ j̲alāyir, D̲ j̲alāyirids, in EI2, ii, 401. Spuler, B., Die Mongolen in Iran: Politik, Verwaltung und Kultur der Ilkhanzeit 1220–1350, Leiden 1985. Tritton, A.S., The tribes of Syria in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, in BSOAS 12/3– 4 (1948), 567–73. Wing, P., The Jalayirids: dynastic state formation in the Mongol Middle East, Edinburgh 2016. Wing, P., The decline of the Ilkhanate and the Mamluk Sultanate’s eastern frontier, in MSR 11/2 (2007), 77–88. Woods, J., The Aqquyunlu: Clan, confederation, empire, Salt Lake City 1999.

chapter 10

Between Iraq and a Hard Place: Sulṭān Aḥmad Jalāyir’s Time as a Refugee in the Mamluk Sultanate Patrick Wing

The turn of the eighth-ninth/fourteenth-fifteenth centuries was a period of upheaval and transition in the political orders of the Mamluk sultanate and the former Ilkhanid lands. The campaigns of Tīmūr in Iran, Iraq, Anatolia, and Syria transformed the balance of political power both within and between the polities of the Nile-to-Oxus region. Although the Mamluks suffered Tīmūr’s Syrian invasion in 803/1400–1, the ruling elite, and particularly the sultanate itself, remained secure in Cairo. Tīmūr’s campaigns did not represent an existential threat to the Mamluks, as they did for the Muzaffarids of Shiraz, or the Ottomans of Bursa. Yet, even though the Mamluk sultanate survived Tīmūr’s campaigns, and certainly fared better than other dynastic polities to the east, the early ninth/fifteenth century was a time of troubles for the Mamluks and the Circassian regime founded by al-Ẓāhir Barqūq in 784/1382. In the midst of growing economic problems, the Mamluk sultanate experienced a period of internal discord and civil war, and a breakdown of central authority during the reign of Barqūq’s son and successor, al-Nāṣir Faraj. The details of Mamluk political history are particularly complex in the years between 801/1399 and 814/1412, and a thorough analysis of the period has yet to be written. Yet, we may assume that the Chaghatayid invasion of Mamluk Syria played a significant part in disrupting the stable functioning of the sultanate, particularly considering the extent to which Syria fell out of Cairo’s central control, and subsequently served as the launching pad for several amirs’ attempts to seize the sultanate. For a better understanding of the ways in which the internal political dynamics of the Mamluk sultanate were affected by the emergence of Tīmūr, we might benefit by examining those instances when Mamluk attention was turned to events in the former Ilkhanid domains. To this end, the present paper considers the diplomatic relationship between the Mamluks and the Jalayirid Sulṭān Aḥmad b. Shaykh Uways (r. 784–813/1382–1410) who ruled Azerbaijan and Arab Iraq as the successor to the ilkhanate. Forced to abandon his capital at Tabriz during Tīmūr’s first Persian campaign in 787/1385–6, Sulṭān Aḥmad spent most of the remainder of his reign in Baghdad,1 or on the run from the Chaghatayid 1 For a thorough historical analysis of the changing role of Baghdad as “a province along the © koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2019 | doi:10.1163/9789004384637_011

364

wing

armies. Seeking to preserve both his life and claims to his realm, he sought refuge in the lands of the Mamluk sultanate on three occasions (in 796/1394, 802/1400, and 806/1403). These encounters between Sulṭān Aḥmad and the Mamluks are the subject of this paper. Specifically, I am interested in what Sulṭān Aḥmad’s receptions reveal about the dynamics of the Mamluks’ internal politics, and the relationship between the sultanate and the military elite during the reigns of al-Ẓāhir Barqūq and al-Nāṣir Faraj. Following an overview of Sulṭān Aḥmad’s encounters with the Mamluks, I propose that we may be able to read Sulṭān Aḥmad’s reception by the Mamluk elite on each of these three occasions as a barometer of the attitude toward sultanic authority for those among the Mamluk elite who sought to either promote or to undermine the notion of dynastic royal authority.

1

First Encounter (795–6/1393–4)

Sulṭān Aḥmad b. Shaykh Uways Jalāyir took the throne in Tabriz in 784/1382 after leading a coup against his brother, Sulṭān Ḥusayn. Their father, Shaykh Uways b. Shaykh Ḥasan, was descended from members of the Ilkhanid royal house, as well as the non-Chinggisid military elite. In 761/1360 Shaykh Uways conquered Tabriz, bringing Azerbaijan into the Jalayirid patrimony, and laying claim to the legacy of the Ilkhanids. Sulṭān Aḥmad was driven from Tabriz with the first campaigns of Tīmūr’s armies, and established his court at Baghdad. He stayed there until Tīmūr’s conquest of Baghdad in 795/1393, upon which he fled to the west, and sought the protection of the Mamluks for the first time. According to Tīmūr’s official historian, Niẓām al-Dīn Shāmī, Tīmūr attacked Sulṭān Aḥmad because he failed to show the proper signs of submission, and did not strike coins and give the khuṭba in Tīmūr’s name.2 However, according to al-Maqrīzī, whose account is followed by Ibn Taghrī Birdī, Sulṭān Aḥmad did in fact put on the robe of honor sent to him by Tīmūr, in addition to arranging for the khuṭba and the sikka.3 Yet, despite his submission to Tīmūr’s authority, Sulṭān Aḥmad faced opposition from the aʿyān of Baghdad, who sent a mes-

edge of the Mamluk and Mongol worlds,” from the beginning of the ilkhanate until the Jalayirid period, see Gilli-Elewy’s article in this volume. Gilli-Elewy traces the ways in which Mamluk recognition could help local amirs, notables, and rebels consolidate their influence in Baghdad in a period when Tabriz had become the center of political life east of the Euphrates. 2 Shāmī, Histoire des conquêtes 138. 3 Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk 788; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Manhal al-ṣāfī i, 249.

between iraq and a hard place

365

sage to Tīmūr inviting him to take the city. They cited Sulṭān Aḥmad’s killing of his amirs, his oppression of the general populace, and his tendency to drink and engage in debauchery as the reasons he was not an acceptable ruler.4 This would not be the last time that the urban notables of Baghdad would seek Timurid aid in ridding themselves of the Jalayirid sultan. Sulṭān Aḥmad fled Baghdad on 14 Shawwāl 795/23 August 1393,5 but was overtaken by Tīmūr’s forces at Karbala, where members of his household and baggage were captured.6 Sulṭān Aḥmad managed to escape with a group of his followers and fled toward Syria.7 After being met at al-Raḥba by Amir Nuʿayr, chief of the Āl Faḍl bedouins,8 and then at Aleppo by the Mamluk governor, Julbān Qarāsaqal,9 Sulṭān Aḥmad dispatched a message to Sultan al-Ẓāhir Barqūq, requesting permission to come to Cairo. Barqūq took counsel from his amirs, who agreed that Sulṭān Aḥmad should be allowed to journey to the Mamluk capital.10 On 17 Rabīʿ I 796/20 January 1394, Sulṭān Aḥmad arrived in Cairo. He spent the next month and a half as the honored guest of Sultan Barqūq. The hospitality shown to the Jalayirid refugee was accompanied by grand public spectacles and ceremonies designed to both demonstrate Sulṭān Aḥmad’s dignity as a sovereign Muslim ruler, and to illustrate Barqūq’s own majesty and beneficence as Sulṭān Aḥmad’s protector against the threat from Tīmūr. Upon his arrival at al-Raydāniyya, the highest-ranking amirs of Egypt greeted Sulṭān Aḥmad before Barqūq too descended from his throne (masṭaba) to receive him.11 He did not allow Sulṭān Aḥmad to kiss his hand, but instead embraced him. According to al-Maqrīzī, they wept together, and Barqūq offered encouraging words, promising Sulṭān Aḥmad that he would someday regain his throne. As they sat together, Sulṭān Aḥmad was presented with a robe and a horse.12 They then rode in procession toward the citadel, accompanied by the amirs

4 5 6

7 8 9 10 11 12

Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk 788; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Manhal al-ṣāfī i, 249; Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ alghumr (Hyderabad) iii, 156. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk 788; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Manhal al-ṣāfī i, 250. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk 788; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Manhal al-ṣāfī i, 250. Among those taken prisoner was Sulṭān Aḥmad’s son, ʿAlāʾ al-Dawla. See Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma i, 456; Naṭanzī, Extraits 169. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk 788; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Manhal al-ṣāfī i, 250; Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma i, 455; Astarābādī, Bazm u razm 22–3. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk 788. Ibid.; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Manhal al-ṣāfī i, 250. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk 788. Ibid. 799; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Manhal al-ṣāfī i, 251. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk 799; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Manhal al-ṣāfī i, 252.

366

wing

and army.13 Sulṭān Aḥmad proceeded on to a residence that Barqūq had prepared for him at Birkat al-Fīl, where the ustādār laid out a banquet, attended by all the amirs. After the amirs had departed, Barqūq sent 200,000 silver dirhams, as well as clothing, horses, and slaves.14 Ceremonies subsequent to Sulṭān Aḥmad’s initial reception also provided Barqūq the opportunity to distinguish both himself and his guest. On 19 Rabīʿ I/22 January, Sulṭān Aḥmad attended Barqūq’s council session (khidma) at the īwān of the dār al-ʿadl.15 Sulṭān Aḥmad was seated directly to the right of Barqūq, a place of honor normally reserved for the amīr kabīr.16 Later in the week, Barqūq continued to show hospitality to Sulṭān Aḥmad by taking him on a hunting trip outside Cairo.17 Sulṭān Aḥmad was thus introduced to the political elite as the equal of Barqūq as a fellow Muslim sovereign. It was clear from the start that Sulṭān Aḥmad would not be absorbed into the hierarchy of Mamluk amirs, or be treated as a courtier to the sultan; his status was in fact commensurate only with Barqūq himself. Such a diplomatic choice on the part of the Mamluk sultan served not only to elevate the status of Sulṭān Aḥmad, but Barqūq’s status as well. Barqūq used the occasion of Sulṭān Aḥmad’s arrival to illustrate his distinction, not merely as the most powerful Mamluk amir, but as a dynastic founder, whose authority transcended the Mamluk political order, and was on the same level as other dynastic rulers. The dynastic charisma represented by the Jalayirid house and embodied by Sulṭān Aḥmad was demonstrated by Barqūq’s marriage on 9 Rabīʿ II/11 February to Tundī Khātūn, daughter of Sulṭān Ḥusayn b. Shaykh Uways.18 As Anne Broadbridge points out, this was the first time a Mamluk sultan had married a royal princess from an established dynasty since al-Nāṣir Muḥammad (third r. 709–41/1310–41).19 The marriage created closer ties between Barqūq and Sulṭān Aḥmad, while also emphasizing the significance of dynastic sovereignty to the nature of both of their identities as rulers. Following his marriage to Tundī Khātūn, Barqūq held a large military parade at al-Rumayla, which Sulṭān Aḥmad attended. After the review, Barqūq and Sulṭān Aḥmad visited the tombs of al-Shāfiʿī and al-Sayyida Nafīsa, and distributed alms to the poor.

13 14 15 16 17 18 19

Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk 799; al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk 799. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk 799; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Manhal al-ṣāfī i, 252. Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Manhal al-ṣāfī i, 252–3. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk 799. Ibid. 801. Ibid. 807; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Manhal al-ṣāfī i, 253. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 181.

between iraq and a hard place

367

These events were part of the preparations to mobilize the army to be sent to Syria, in order to confront the threat of an invasion from Tīmūr there. Barqūq set out for Damascus with Sulṭān Aḥmad the following day,20 but while they were on the road they received news that Tīmūr had returned to his own country.21 After spending more than a month in Damascus,22 Sulṭān Aḥmad departed for Baghdad, on 1 Shaʿbān 796/1 June 1394. Barqūq presented Sulṭān Aḥmad with 500,000 dirhams, a horse, camels, armaments, and a ceremonial sword. These gifts were accompanied by a patent (taqlīd) confirming Sulṭān Aḥmad as Barqūq’s nāʾib (deputy; governor) in Baghdad.23 The taqlīd signaled a change in the diplomatic relationship. The protection and generosity that the Jalayirid sultan found at the Mamluk court came at the price of submission to the ultimate authority of al-Ẓāhir Barqūq. In this process, Barqūq had transformed his own image as a ruler on equal terms with the rightful heir to the ilkhans, to one with no equals, to whom the Jalayirid sultan owed obedience. The fact that Barqūq had consolidated his own position within the Mamluk political order for the previous fifteen years or so allowed him to act in such an open-handed manner toward Sulṭān Aḥmad, and to direct the diplomatic encounter according to his personal interests. For Sulṭān Aḥmad, his time at Barqūq’s court must also be considered successful. He had narrowly escaped defeat at Karbala, and managed to return to Baghdad with a great deal of wealth, which he used, with little difficulty, to reassert his authority following the Chaghatayid withdrawal. Unfortunately for Sulṭān Aḥmad, this was not the last time Tīmūr would come to Baghdad.

2

Second Encounter (802/1400)

Sulṭān Aḥmad’s second flight to Mamluk Syria took place in 802/1400, and proceeded very differently when compared with his reception by Barqūq in 796/1394. The Timurid and the Mamluk historical traditions preserve two different accounts of the causes for Sulṭān Aḥmad’s departure. According to the Timurid historians, who differ among themselves on the details,24 Sulṭān

20 21 22 23 24

Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk 807; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Manhal al-ṣāfī i, 253. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk 813. From 20 Jumādā II/22 April to 1 Shaʿbān/1 June. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk 814; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Manhal al-ṣāfī i, 254. According to Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Shirvān b. Shaykh Barāq Manṣūrī was one of Sulṭān Aḥmad’s most esteemed amirs; he turned against him after a failed siege of Shushtar, and insti-

368

wing

Aḥmad’s departure from Baghdad was prompted by his discovery of a conspiracy among his amirs and relatives, initiated by an amir named Shirvān. When Sulṭān Aḥmad learned of the conspiracy, he methodically had some 2,000 of his amirs, intimates, and relatives killed. In a state of paranoia, he slipped out of Baghdad and joined Qarā Yūsuf, chief of the Qara Qoyunlu Turkmens, and urged him to attack the city. However, apparently fearing further confrontation with Tīmūr in Iraq, Sulṭān Aḥmad instead left Baghdad again and accompanied Qarā Yūsuf to Syria.25 The Mamluk tradition does not mention the Shirvān conspiracy, but only that the aʿyān of Baghdad wrote to the Timurid governor of Shiraz that Sulṭān Aḥmad was oppressing the populace and had killed amirs,26 and that Tīmūr should come and take the city.27 Sulṭān Aḥmad fled again from Baghdad,28 this time seeking assistance from Qarā Yūsuf, who was ruling Mosul. However, their combined forces were routed at Baghdad, and both of them headed for Syria.29 The situation in the Mamluk sultanate had changed dramatically since Sulṭān Aḥmad’s last visit to Cairo in 796/1394. The year leading up to the arrival of Sulṭān Aḥmad and Qarā Yūsuf in Syria had been a tumultuous one. Upon Barqūq’s death in Shawwāl 801/June 1399, his son and designated heir, Faraj, succeeded to the sultanate. Because he was not yet ten years old, a circle of khāṣṣakī amirs30 came to control affairs in the citadel. Opposition to this group coalesced around two groups: the senior amirs of Cairo, led by the amīr kabīr Aytamish, and the governor of Damascus, Tanam al-Ḥasanī. Aytamish’s followers joined Tanam and the rest of the Syrian amirs after a failed attempt to

25 26 27 28 29 30

gated a conspiracy against Sulṭān Aḥmad in Baghdad. See Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Zubdat al-tavārīkh 880. Sharaf al-Dīn ʿAlī Yazdī writes that in fact Shirvān was Tīmūr’s appointed governor of Khuzistan, but that he rebelled and went to Baghdad to offer his services to Sulṭān Aḥmad, after which he began to distribute money to the amirs in order to turn them against Sulṭān Aḥmad. See Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 168. According to al-Tārīkh al-Ghiyāthī, which represents a combination of both Mamluk and Timurid historiography, Tīmūr himself had sent Shirvān to Sulṭān Aḥmad as an agent by which to gain influence at the Jalayirid court and turn the sultan’s trusted amirs and intimates against him. See Ghiyāth al-Dīn, al-Tārīkh al-Ghiyāthī 119. Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 169–70; Ghiyāth al-Dīn, al-Tārīkh al-Ghiyāthī 122–3. Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Manhal al-ṣāfī i, 254. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk 1020; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Manhal al-ṣāfī i, 254; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, alNujūm al-zāhira 44. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk 1020; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Manhal al-ṣāfī i, 254. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk 1020; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Manhal al-ṣāfī i, 254; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, alNujūm al-zāhira 44. The Mamluk khāṣṣakiyya were the amirs comprising the sultan’s bodyguard and select retinue. See Ayalon, K̲ h̲āṣṣakiyya.

between iraq and a hard place

369

capture the citadel, and prompted a confrontation between the sultan’s faction and Tanam’s faction in southern Syria. In the battle at al-Jītīn, Tanam was thrown from his horse and captured, and his forces quickly dissolved. Aytamish, Tanam, and many of the senior amirs of Barqūq were executed, and the khāṣṣakī faction in Cairo, led by Yashbak al-Shaʿbānī, emerged victorious.31 Such was the internal political situation in the Mamluk domains when Sulṭān Aḥmad and Qarā Yūsuf came to Syria in Shawwāl 802/June 1400. Although the movement in Syria to enthrone Tanam as sultan had been put down, relations between Syria and Egypt remained tenuous for the remainder of Faraj’s reign. Central authority was far from firm in Syria in the way it had been under Barqūq. The sultan no longer held real power either, he was little more than a puppet for a larger faction of amirs in Cairo. These circumstances meant that the presence of Sulṭān Aḥmad in the Mamluk sultanate could no longer serve the same political interests that had been served six years earlier. Instead of a potential symbol of royal authority to be exploited by a powerful Mamluk sultan, Sulṭān Aḥmad, and the Turkmen forces who accompanied him (or, perhaps more accurately, whom he accompanied), instead represented a threat to the stability of the fragile political balance in Syria immediately following the Tanam rebellion. When Sulṭān Aḥmad and Qarā Yūsuf requested permission from the governor of Aleppo, Damurdāsh (or Tīmūrtāsh) al-Muḥammadī, to settle there, Damurdāsh did not look to guidance from Cairo, but instead took matters into his own hands. Damurdāsh summoned the governor of Hama, Duqmāq, and the two of them led their forces against Sulṭān Aḥmad and the Turkmens.32 In the battle that took place on 24 Shawwāl 802/18 June 1400,33 the Mamluk armies were defeated by the Turkmens. Duqmāq and a group of other amirs were captured,34 and Duqmāq was forced to ransom himself for 100,000 dirhams.35 Despite this conflict, Sulṭān Aḥmad and Qarā Yūsuf persisted in their quest for sanctuary, if not in Syria, then in Egypt. They sent a message directly to Sultan Faraj, in which they insisted that they had not come to make war, but instead sought refuge and aid, such as had been previously offered to Sulṭān 31 32 33

34 35

For the account of these events, from the death of Barqūq until the execution of Tanam, see Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Nujūm al-zāhira 1–41. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk 1020; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Manhal al-ṣāfī i, 254–5; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, alNujūm al-zāhira 44. Ibn Taghrī Birdī has 22 Shawwāl in the Manhal, and 24 Shawwāl in the Nujūm. See Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Manhal al-ṣāfī i, 255; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Nujūm al-zāhira 44. Al-Maqrīzī has 2 Shawwāl. See al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk 1020. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk 1020; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Manhal al-ṣāfī i, 255. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk 1020; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Nujūm al-zāhira i, 255.

370

wing

Aḥmad by Faraj’s father Barqūq. It is likely that Faraj never received this message, and even if he had, he would have little power to decide on whether Sulṭān Aḥmad and Qarā Yūsuf should be permitted to come to Cairo. According to Ibn Taghrī Birdī, their message was ignored, and those amirs in control in Egypt36 ordered the governor of Damascus to capture them and send them to Cairo.37 Unable to find sanctuary in Syria, Sulṭān Aḥmad and Qarā Yūsuf went north to Anatolia,38 where they were defeated by the Mamluk governor of Bahasnā (Besni) and his own army of Turkmens.39 Sulṭān Aḥmad and Qarā Yūsuf apparently parted ways after the battle at Bahasnā,40 and Sulṭān Aḥmad soon encountered Tīmūr’s forces, who intercepted his aghrūq (mobile domestic camp). Although Sulṭān Aḥmad escaped, his older sister, Sulṭān Dilshād, as well as his wives and daughters were captured and taken prisoner.41 Sulṭān Aḥmad continued west into the Ottoman domains, until he joined Sultan Bāyazīd I at Aqsaray. Bāyazīd granted the revenue from Kütahya as tīmār to Sulṭān Aḥmad and he settled there.42 Later, Qarā Yūsuf also arrived in Anatolia, and was also given refuge by Bāyazīd.43 Sulṭān Aḥmad and Qarā Yūsuf urged Bāyazīd to extend his control to the east, and helped the Ottomans take Erzincan from the amir Muṭahhartan, who had pledged allegiance to Tīmūr.44 Following the capture of Erzincan, Bāyazīd’s protection of Sulṭān Aḥmad and Qarā Yūsuf became a contentious diplomatic issue between Tīmūr and the Ottoman sultan. In the correspondence between them, Tīmūr demanded that Bāyazīd desist from giving refuge to them, while Bāyazīd staunchly refused.45 36

37 38 39 40

41 42 43 44 45

Faraj personally had little to do with decisions related to Sulṭān Aḥmad at this point. He remained under the control of the khāṣṣakī amirs, primarily Yashbak al-Shaʿbānī. According to Ibn Taghrī Birdī, it was the ambiguous ahl al-dawla who ignored the message from Sulṭān Aḥmad and Qarā Yūsuf pleading for protection, and who wrote to the nāʾib of Damascus to engage them and send them to Egypt. See Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Nujūm al-zāhira 44–5. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk 1020; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Nujūm al-zāhira 44. Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Manhal al-ṣāfī i, 255; Ghiyāth al-Dīn, al-Tārīkh al-Ghiyāthī 123. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk 1023. According to Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Sulṭān Aḥmad and Qarā Yūsuf began to quarrel at Bahasna, after which Qarā Yūsuf stayed behind, and Sulṭān Aḥmad proceeded to Anatolia. See Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Zubdat al-tavārīkh 893. Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 196. Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Zubdat al-tavārīkh 894; ʿĀşıḳ Pāşā-Zāde, Tevārīkh 249. Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Zubdat al-tavārīkh 894. Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 268. A series of four missives and responses between Tīmūr and Bāyazīd are preserved in Ferīdūn Bey, Mecmūʿa 118–9; 123–6; 126–30; 130–3. On the correspondence preserved by Ferīdūn Beg between Tīmūr and Bāyazīd, Sulṭān Aḥmad and Qarā Yūsuf, see Browne, A literary history iii, 204–6. Rūḥī wrote that Tīmūr sent an envoy to Bāyazīd, demanding that

between iraq and a hard place

371

Thus, by 802/1400, Mamluk Syria was no longer a refuge for Sulṭān Aḥmad. The collapse of central authority in Syria, combined with Sulṭān Aḥmad’s alliance with the Qara Qoyunlu Turkmens, meant that he was no longer welcome by the amirs who controlled the eastern frontier. It is possible that Faraj might have benefited by hosting the Jalayirid sultan, but the amirs who controlled the young sultan in Cairo had little interest in glorifying Faraj’s personal authority. For Faraj’s handlers, he was more useful as a compliant puppet, rather than as a powerful sultan in his own right, as his father had been. Sulṭān Aḥmad thus found a more welcoming reception from Bāyazīd, whose charismatic authority in Anatolia could, clearly, benefit from being the protector of the Jalayirid sultan in opposition to Tīmūr.

3

Third Encounter (806–7/1403–5)

In the spring of 803/1401, Sulṭān Aḥmad requested permission from Sultan Bāyazīd to return to Baghdad. Bāyazīd acquiesced, and sent Sulṭān Aḥmad home loaded with gifts.46 However, Sulṭān Aḥmad returned as a refugee to the Ottoman court a year later, after being driven out of Baghdad twice by the Timurids.47 Bāyazīd’s protection this time was short-lived, however. In Dhū l-Ḥijja 804/July 1402 Tīmūr defeated Bāyazīd’s forces at Ankara, breaking Ottoman power in Anatolia. Sulṭān Aḥmad returned to Iraq to find that his son, Sulṭān Ṭāhir, had risen in revolt, supported by the endlessly hostile Baghdad elite.48 Sulṭān Aḥmad turned once again for assistance to Qarā Yūsuf, who ended up taking Baghdad for himself, in early 806/summer 1403.49 Unable to trust his own amirs or his own family, and without the options of the Ottomans or the Qara Qoyunlu as allies, Sulṭān Aḥmad sought refuge for a third time in Mamluk Syria. Sulṭān Aḥmad arrived in Aleppo on 15 Ṣafar 806/3 September 1403.50 He was initially ordered detained there by the sultan, but was later summoned to

46 47 48 49 50

he turn over Sulṭān Aḥmad and Qarā Yūsuf. When Bāyazīd ignored the envoy, Tīmūr sent an army to attack Sivas. See Rūḥī Çelebī, Rûhî Târîhî 397. In addition, Ibn ʿArabshāh refers to a letter sent by Tīmūr, urging Bāyazīd not to give refuge to Sulṭān Aḥmad and Qarā Yūsuf. See Ibn ʿArabshāh, ʿAjāʾib al-maqdūr 184–5. Rūḥī Çelebī, Rûhî Târîhî 397; Seif, Der Abschnitt 96. For these events, see Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 257; 276–7; Ibn ʿArabshāh, ʿAjāʾib al-maqdūr 182; Schiltberger, The bondage 24. Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 369. Ibid. 370. Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Manhal al-ṣāfī i, 255.

372

wing

Cairo. As he proceeded to Egypt, Sulṭān Aḥmad was received in Damascus by that city’s governor, amir Shaykh al-Maḥmūdī (the future Sultan al-Muʾayyad Shaykh).51 Shaykh had already received Qarā Yūsuf, who arrived in Damascus after being driven out of Baghdad himself by the Timurids.52 Shaykh had made Qarā Yūsuf one of his own amirs, no doubt pleased to count Qarā Yūsuf’s Turkmen followers among his own military forces. At the end of Jumādā II 806/January 1404, Shaykh received orders from Cairo to imprison Sulṭān Aḥmad and Qarā Yūsuf.53 Later, in Shaʿbān/February–March, he was directed to execute them both. Shaykh did not comply, and instead requested verification of the order.54 In opposition to the sultan’s command, Shaykh kept Sulṭān Aḥmad and Qarā Yūsuf imprisoned in Damascus. It was here, according to Timurid sources, that they made a pact to divide Azerbaijan and Arab Iraq between themselves when they were released.55 Shaykh kept them incarcerated until events in Cairo drew him into conflict with the sultan, and prompted him to mobilize his forces in Syria. This confrontation was set in motion when the amir Yashbak al-Shaʿbānī, who controlled much of the political affairs in Cairo, came into conflict with Sultan Faraj, when he attempted to remove Faraj’s brother-in-law,56 Īnālbāy b. Qajmās, from his position as royal stable-master (amīr ākhūr).57 In Ṣafar 807/August 1404, Yashbak’s faction was defeated in battle by the supporters of the sultan. Yashbak fled to Syria, and was received by Shaykh in Damascus.58 Already before Yashbak’s arrival, Shaykh had released Qarā Yūsuf from prison, perhaps anticipating that his Turkmen followers would prove useful in any future hostilities. After his arrival in Damascus, Yashbak convinced Shaykh to release

51

52 53 54 55

56 57 58

Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk 1118. The date of Sulṭān Aḥmad’s arrival in Damascus is given by alMaqrīzī as 6 Jumādā I 806/21 November 1403 (al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk 1119), and by Ibn Ḥajar as 26 Jumādā I/11 December (Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr [Beirut] 145). Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk 1118; Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr [Beirut] 145–6. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk 1120; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Nujūm al-zāhira 109. Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr [Beirut] 145. According to the Rawżat al-ṣafā of Mīrkhwānd, Sulṭān Aḥmad and Qarā Yūsuf were imprisoned together not in Damascus, but in Cairo, where they swore to each other that should they ever be free, they would not attack each other, but would be united. Qarā Yūsuf would take Tabriz and Sulṭān Aḥmad would take Baghdad, and they would not interfere in each other’s affairs. See Mīrkhwānd, Tārīkh 549. See also Khwāndamīr, Habibu’s-siyar ii, 314–5. Īnālbāy was married to Barqūq’s daughter, Khawand Bayrām. See al-Maqrīzī, al-Suluk 1136; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Nujūm al-zāhira 111. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk 1136; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Nujūm al-zāhira 110–1. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk 1138–9; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Nujūm al-zāhira 112–3.

between iraq and a hard place

373

Sulṭān Aḥmad as well,59 a signal that the Mamluk sultan’s authority no longer extended to Syria. Shaykh bestowed 100,000 silver dirhams and 300 horses upon each of them.60 Sulṭān Aḥmad and Qarā Yūsuf were no longer the sultan’s prisoners, but rather members of Shaykh’s own retinue. Sulṭān Aḥmad and Qarā Yūsuf accompanied Shaykh on campaign in Shaʿbān 807/February 1405 against the Mamluk governor of Ṣafad, Baktamur Jullaq, who had remained loyal to the sultan.61 In Ramaḍān/March, they withdrew from Ṣafad and returned to Damascus to meet the amir Jakam, Mamluk governor of Aleppo, who had raised his own rebellion against Faraj.62 Apparently anticipating an alliance with Jakam, Shaykh and Yashbak found that Jakam had ordered that the khuṭba no longer be made in the name of al-Nāṣir Faraj in Damascus, and had claimed full authority for himself there.63 By the time they returned, Jakam had consolidated his power in Damascus to such an extent that there was little they could do to oppose it. The alliance of these three amirs, with Jakam in command, represented the opposition of the military elite of Syria to the sultan and his circle in Cairo. In Dhū l-Qaʿda 807/May 1405, their coalition, including Qarā Yūsuf and his followers, departed from Damascus on a campaign that ultimately targeted Egypt.64 In the confrontation between Faraj and the Syrian amirs in Cairo in Dhū l-Ḥijja/June, a number of defections to the sultan led to the withdrawal of the Syrians,65 with Shaykh returning to Damascus.66 Sulṭān Aḥmad did not accompany Shaykh on this campaign, but was left behind in Damascus. The Jalayirid sultan took the opportunity to leave Damascus, on 16 Dhū l-Ḥijja 807/15 June 1405.67 Ibn Taghrī Birdī writes that he “fled” ( farra) back to Baghdad, with the implication that, from Shaykh’s point of view, he was not at liberty to leave whenever he wanted to. Nevertheless, with Shaykh and his Syrian allies in Egypt, and Tīmūr dead,68 there seemed to be little standing in the way of Sulṭān Aḥmad’s return to Iraq. After this third departure from the Mamluk sultanate, his old ally and rival Qarā Yūsuf became his most trou-

59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68

Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Manhal al-ṣāfī i, 255. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk 1154; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Nujūm al-zāhira 120. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk 1147; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Nujūm al-zāhira 117–8. Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Nujūm al-zāhira 119. Ibid. 120. Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr [Beirut] 214. Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Nujūm al-zāhira 125. Ibid. 126. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk 1165; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Nujūm al-zāhira 126. Tīmūr died in central Asia on 17 Shaʿbān 807/18 February 1405.

374

wing

blesome enemy. Sulṭān Aḥmad died in 813/1410 in Tabriz after attempting to reclaim his Jalayirid patrimony there from Qarā Yūsuf and the Qara Qoyunlu Turkmens.

4

Conclusion

Sulṭān Aḥmad’s flights to the Mamluk sultanate were relatively brief episodes in the Jalayirid sultan’s long reign, which was characterized by hostility from Tīmūr, as well as the amirs and notables of Baghdad. A great deal could be written about Sulṭān Aḥmad’s relations with Tīmūr, the Turkmens, or the Ottomans. In this paper I have chosen to focus on relations between Sulṭān Aḥmad and the Mamluks, and what his time in the Mamluk sultanate reveals about the Mamluk sultanate itself. The episodes that have been discussed above span a period of only ten years; yet this was an important period of change in both the Mamluk sultanate and the wider Nile-to-Oxus region. Sulṭān Aḥmad’s reception in the Mamluk domains was of course informed by the political situation of the moment. However, more than that, we may be able to say that Sulṭān Aḥmad’s very different experiences tell us something about the health of the notion of dynastic sovereignty within the Mamluk sultanate at three critical points in the early Circassian period. On the occasion of Sulṭān Aḥmad’s first visit in 796/1394, he was received by Barqūq as an honored fellow ruler. The public ceremonial surrounding Sulṭān Aḥmad’s stay in Cairo seems to have been intended by Barqūq to emphasize Sulṭān Aḥmad’s status as a sovereign dynastic ruler, whose only equal among the Mamluk elite was Barqūq himself. Barqūq’s marriage to Sulṭān Aḥmad’s niece not only bound the two ruling families together, but also confirmed the notion of charisma inhering in the Jalayirid royal family. Barqūq’s elevation of Sulṭān Aḥmad over all of his own elite amirs not only confirmed Barqūq himself as distinct from the other amirs, but also served to glorify Barqūq all the more when he invested Sulṭān Aḥmad with a taqlīd for Baghdad. Barqūq managed to convert the honor shown publicly to the Jalayirid sultan into a valuable symbolic political achievement: the venerable Jalayirid sultan became the nāʾib of the sultan in Cairo. Barqūq had complete control over the Mamluk military elite in 796/1394; he achieved this by replacing the notion of Qalawunid sovereignty with that of a new, Circassian dispensation, of which he was the dynastic founder. The process of honoring, glorifying, and then subordinating a fellow dynastic ruler was illustrative of the degree to which Barqūq had consolidated his authority in the Mamluk sultanate, and the ideology that supported it.

between iraq and a hard place

375

Sulṭān Aḥmad’s second flight to Mamluk Syria took place under very different circumstances. A year after Barqūq’s death, Syria was no longer under the close political control of the sultanate in Cairo. In the aftermath of the civil war surrounding Tanam, the authority of the young Sultan Faraj was weak, and in Syria, amirs were essentially left to their own devices. Neither the Syrian amirs nor the khāṣṣakī faction who controlled Faraj in Cairo were interested in welcoming Sulṭān Aḥmad the way Barqūq had. The public honoring of the Jalayirid sultan offered little advantage to the amirs of Syria or Cairo. In Syria, Sulṭān Aḥmad’s presence, particularly with his Qara Qoyunlu allies, threatened to disrupt the uneasy stability that had been achieved following the Tanam rebellion. An alliance with the Jalayirid might have encouraged further Turkmen migration into Syria, or invasion from Tīmūr. In Cairo, Faraj’s guardians could not have benefited from a state visit like the one in 796/1394. Their aim was to manage Faraj, not necessarily to glorify his person or his charisma as a dynastic sovereign. Sulṭān Aḥmad was thus turned away, and found a more welcome reception from Ottoman Sultan Bāyazīd I, who used Sulṭān Aḥmad and Qarā Yūsuf to expand his influence in eastern Anatolia, in opposition to Tīmūr. Finally, when Sulṭān Aḥmad returned for a third time to Mamluk territory in 806/1403, he arrived in the midst of complex political maneuvering on the part of the Mamluk Syrian amirs in the wake of Tīmūr’s invasion. His reception was different yet again. Neither honored by the sultan in Cairo, nor driven away by the amirs, Sulṭān Aḥmad came into the custody of Shaykh, governor of Damascus. Shaykh’s imprisonment of Sulṭān Aḥmad and Qarā Yūsuf in defiance of the sultan’s order to execute them was a signal to Cairo that the sultan’s authority no longer held sway in Damascus. When Shaykh joined Yashbak in opposition to Faraj, he released Sulṭān Aḥmad and Qarā Yūsuf, who joined his entourage, with the Turkmens providing military support. Unlike Barqūq, Shaykh does not seem to have emphasized Sulṭān Aḥmad’s claims to the throne in Baghdad, or honored him as a sovereign ruler, though he did reward him handsomely when he was released. Yet, the sources do not provide a great deal of detail on Shaykh’s relations with Sulṭān Aḥmad; we cannot be certain how he was received, and whether Shaykh sought to deploy any dynastic or other political symbolism for his own cause, as Barqūq had done. The fact is that it is unclear what Shaykh’s intentions were with regard to Sulṭān Aḥmad. It does seem likely that Shaykh meant to keep Sulṭān Aḥmad close until the conflict between Jakam and Faraj played out. What we do know is that after Tīmūr’s death, Sulṭān Aḥmad preferred to reclaim his throne in Baghdad rather than remaining a fixture of Shaykh’s household in Damascus. Can we place these encounters with Sulṭān Aḥmad in a wider context in terms of the history of the Mamluk sultanate, specifically with regard to the

376

wing

relationship between sultanic and amiral power and authority? The period under discussion in this paper is generally considered one of crisis, transition, or both in many areas of Mamluk social and political life, including the status of the sultanate itself. Although Barqūq seems to have sought to establish a new dynastic house following the disappearance of the Qalawunids, following Faraj’s deposition in 814/1412, the Mamluk sultanate was not defined by a longstanding dynastic rule. This was not for lack of trying. The sultans al-Muʾayyad Shaykh, al-Ashraf Barsbāy, al-Ẓāhir Jaqmaq, and al-Ashraf Īnāl all attempted to leave the throne to their sons. Yet, none of those unfortunate princes was able to hold onto power. In addition, there was not a notion of nominal dynastic sovereignty, as there had been in the mid-eighth/fourteenth century, under several Qalawunids who were little more than puppets for more powerful amirs. Although our current understanding of the ninth-/fifteenth-century Mamluk sultanate is still too rudimentary to provide an answer for why this occurred, I suggest that the case of Sulṭān Aḥmad provides an interesting touchstone for gauging changes in the Mamluk elite’s attitudes toward dynastic royal authority at the beginning of the century. We see strikingly different relationships between the sultan and the amirs at three distinct moments: the height of Barqūq’s reign, the immediate aftermath of Barqūq’s death, and the aftermath of Tīmūr’s invasion of Syria. Sulṭān Aḥmad was recognized as a member of a sovereign Islamic dynasty, whose symbolic charisma as ruler and enemy of Tīmūr was greater than any actual power he may have held. In other words, he was a cipher for the Mamluks through which the internal struggles of the Mamluk elite could be calibrated, at a moment when the relationship between central sultanic authority and the power of the amirs, particularly in Syria, was drastically changing.

Bibliography Primary Sources ʿĀşıḳ Pāşā-Zāde, Tevārīkh-i āl-i ʿOs̱mān, ed. ʿĀlī Bey, Istanbul 1332/1913–4. Astarābādī, ʿAzīz b. Ārdashīr, Bazm u razm, ed. K.M. Fuat, Istanbul 1928. Ferīdūn Beg, Mecmūʿa-yi münşeʾāt-i selāṭīn, 2 vols., Istanbul 1857–9. Ghiyāth al-Dīn, ʿAbdallāh b. Fatḥ Allāh, al-Taʾrīkh al-Ghiyāthī, ed. Ṭ.N. al-Ḥamdānī, Baghdad 1975. Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Zubdat al-tavārīkh, ed. S.K.Ḥ.S. Javādī, 4 vols., Tehran 1380/2001. Ibn ʿArabshāh, ʿAjāʾib al-maqdūr fī nawāʾib Tīmūr, ed. ʿA.M. ʿUmar, Cairo 1399/1979. Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr bi-abnāʾ al-ʿumr, vol. III, Hyderabad 1967. Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr bi-abnāʾ al-ʿumr fī l-taʾrīkh, vol. V, Beirut 1986.

between iraq and a hard place

377

Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Manhal al-ṣāfī wa-l-mustawfī baʿd al-Wāfī, ed. M.M. Amīn, 13 vols., Cairo 1984–2009. Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Nujūm al-zāhira fī mulūk Miṣr wa-l-Qāhira, vol. VI, ed. W. Popper, Berkeley 1960. Khwāndamīr, Habibu’s-siyar, Tome Three, The reign of the Mongol and the Turk, trans. and ed. W. Thackston, 3 vols., Cambridge 1994. al-Maqrīzī, Kitāb al-Sulūk li-maʿrifat duwal al-mulūk, vol. III, ed. ʿA. al-F. ʿĀshūr, Cairo 1972. Mīrkhwānd, Tārīkh-i Rawżat al-ṣafā, vol. VI, ed. R.Q.Kh. Hidāyat, Tehran 1959–60. Naṭanzī, Extraits du Muntakhab al-Tavarikh-i Mu‘ini (Anonyme d’Iskandar), ed. J. Aubin, Tehran 1957. Rūḥī Çelebī, Rûhî Târîhî, ed. H.E. Cengiz and Y. Yücel, in Belgeler: Türk Tarih Belgeleri Dergisi XIV/18 (1989–92), 359–472. Schiltberger, The bondage and travels of Johann Schiltberger: A native of Bavaria, in Europe, Asia, and Africa, 1396–1427, trans. J.B. Telfer, ed. P. Bruun, London 1879; repr. Frankfurt am Main 1995. Shāmī, Histoire des conquêtes de Tamerlan intitulée Ẓafarnāma, ed. F. Tauer, 2 vols., Prague 1937. Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma, ed. M. ʿAbbāsī, 2 vols., Tehran 1336 Sh/1958.

Secondary Sources Ayalon, D., K̲ h̲āṣṣakiyya, in EI2, iv, 1100. Broadbridge, A.F., Kingship and ideology in the Islamic and Mongol worlds, Cambridge 2008. Browne, E.G., A literary history of Persia, vol. 3: The Tartar dominion (1265–1502), Cambridge 1956. Seif, T., Der Abschnitt über die Osmanen in Šükrüllāh’s persischer Universalgeschichte, Mitteilungen zur Osmanischen Geschichte 2 (1923–5), 63–128.

part 3 The Timurids, the Turkmens, and the Ottomans

∵

chapter 11

Niẓām al-Dīn Shāmī’s Description of the Syrian Campaign of Tīmūr Michele Bernardini

The new perspective offered by the recent close analysis of the MamlukTimurid diplomatic exchanges made by Anne Broadbridge, in particular from the perspective of the Egyptian sources, represents a substantial step forward in studies devoted to Tīmūr and the Mamluks.1 We can add to this work the thorough study and edition of Beltramo Mignanelli’s reports on Barqūq and Tīmūr (Ascensus Barcoch and De ruina Damasci),2 the contribution by Stefan Heidemann on the Timurid siege of Damascus,3 and a further article on the fire in the Great Mosque of Damascus by Élodie Vigouroux.4 All of these recent contributions offer an expansion on the conventional perception of the story of the clash between Tīmūr and the Mamluk sultan Faraj. In this frame the Persian sources need to be reconsidered in terms of their historiographical construction, which frequently reveals a strong ideological approach, as John E. Woods and Anne Broadbridge often remind us.5 The position of Niẓām al-Dīn Shāmī (or Shanbī), an author who concluded his work (Ẓafarnāma, “Liber Victoriae”)6 when Tīmūr was still alive (806/1404), might appear more “genuine,” not only because of the dry style he used, but also because of a certain impression of spontaneity that his chronicle conveys (at any rate for the Syrian campaign). In other words, we can consider his work less “ideological” in its construction and devoid of a great courtly project like the works of his successors. If the additions made by Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū7 on the Syrian campaign are marginal, the same could not be said for the work of Sharaf al-Dīn ʿAlī Yazdī, who offers a rich re-elaboration of Shāmī’s description. In addition, Shāmī is surpassed by the sophisticated style and greater accuracy of Yazdī’s

1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 168–97. Helmy, Tra Siena, l’Oriente e la Curia. Heidemann, Tīmūr’s campmint. Vigouroux, La Mosquée des Omeyyades. Woods, Timur’s genealogy; Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology. Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma. See volume 2, Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma, ed. Tauer.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2019 | doi:10.1163/9789004384637_012

382

bernardini

Ẓafarnāma.8 Other historical works, like the Muntakhab al-tavārīkh of Muʿīn al-Dīn Naṭanzī,9 the Maṭlaʿ-i saʿdayn va-majmaʿ-i baḥrayn of ʿAbd al-Razzāq Samarqandī,10 or the later universal chronicles of Mīrkhwānd11 and Khwāndamīr12 include no substantial emendations to the earliest evidence on the Syrian campaign.13 Captured in Aleppo in 803/1400, Shāmī was a direct witness of the Syrian events, as he himself states. Nevertheless, later sources like Yazdī’s Ẓafarnāma do not recognize this presence and almost completely neglect the figure of Shāmī,14 as in the case of the capture of Aleppo (see below), which is described as a personal memoir by Shāmī and transformed into an official datum by Yazdī, who hides its direct source. Shāmī, then, is devoid of the solid ideological structure of Yazdī, and seems to offer an alternative to the perception of Tīmūr as “one of the most ideologically creative rulers in the post-Mongol Age.”15 To that end, the supplementary use of previous sources such as an alleged Futūḥāt-i Shām u Rūm, even if conjectural, certainly seems plausible:16 together Shāmī adds fresh evidence of hearsay and details of directly observed events. In some cases, his reports were clearly censored or manipulated later on, especially those that touched on members of the turbulent Timurid family, who entered a season of internecine clashes after the death of Tīmūr. The non-Timurid figures who participated in this game are described with a certain vagueness. The Mamluks were in a transition phase and Barqūq appeared to be a formidable enemy; nevertheless, the diplomatic correspondence is partially evoked by Shāmī, showing a substantial difference from later authors. Faraj, the vālī-i Miṣr (governor of Egypt) is an obscure figure in Shāmī; his name is mentioned only at the end of the Syrian campaign.17 Other minor 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

15 16 17

Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma. Naṭanzī, Muntakhab 372–83, where the Syrian conflict is described together with the “seven-year campaign.” Samarqandī, Maṭlaʿ-i saʿdayn i, 838–73 for the Syrian campaign. Samarqandī uses Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū’s version almost verbatim. Mīrkhwānd, Rawżat al-ṣafā vi, 354–405 for the Syrian campaign. Khwāndamīr, Tārīkh iii, 491–9. On these authors Woods, The rise. Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 403 mentions the figure of Mawlānā Niẓām al-Dīn Shanbī as an eloquent man of letters of his time on only one occasion, but with no reference to his work. On the relation between Shāmī and Yazdī, see Binbaş, Intellectual networks, in particular 166–75. Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 168. See also Woods, Timur’s genealogy. See also Aigle, Les transformations; Manz, Tamerlane’s career; Bernardini, Mémoire et propagande. Woods, The rise 87. Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma i, 239–40.

shāmī’s description of the syrian campaign of tīmūr

383

lords who participated in some battles, such as the Aq Qoyunlu Qarā ʿUthmān, are not mentioned in the description of the Syrian campaign as protagonists in the contest for regional power in this area. The Dhulqadirids are simply described as Turkmens. As was noted by Shahin Mustafayev, the perception of a multiform galaxy of little and medium Turkmen powers, the Türkmenler deryası, as it would later be identified by Muṣṭafā ʿAlī Efendī,18 certainly played an interesting role with various defections to the side of Tīmūr in Syrian and Anatolian campaigns. Nevertheless, Shāmī shows a substantial mistrust of these nomadic elements, who are considered mere instruments, and frequently despised as “idiots.” Yazdī expanded on this matter later on. Moreover the description of ethnic groups as well as the perception of topography and the geographical information are reduced in Shāmī, though they are frequently more accurate than in the other, later authors.19

1

Tīmūr in Malatya and the Description of the Ancient Embassy to Barqūq (795/1393)

It is worth noting that all the Timurid sources neglect the first letters exchanged between Tīmūr and Barqūq in 787/1386, which were mentioned by al-Maqrīzī and Ibn Qāḍī Shuhba, albeit without information about their content.20 A second diplomatic mission to Egypt was sent just after the first capture of Baghdad in 795/1393 by Tīmūr. Mention of this second diplomatic exchange was made in Tīmūr’s correspondence from the beginning of his Syrian campaign, therefore not in correspondence with the period of the embassy. Shāmī was one of the first citizens of Baghdad to kneel before Tīmūr in these days (20 Shawwāl 795/29 August 1393)—this was the first meeting between the Persian historian and the Central Asian conqueror.21 Nevertheless Shāmī introduces the embassy after the account of the capture of Malatya (802/1400), a strategic stage on the way to Syria. Tīmūr was aware of the revolt of the Mamluk nāʾib Minṭāsh in 791/1388–89 and according to ʿAzīz Astarābādī (d. 799/1397), the latter was also involved in the first arrival of Tīmūr in eastern Anatolia.22 18 19

20 21 22

Mustafayev, Between nomadism and centralization. The editors of the Persian texts introduced various errors; the exception to this is the very accurate work of Felix Tauer and later the valuable indexes in the offset edition of Yazdī edited by Urunboev. See Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 171. Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma i, 139. Astarābādī, Bazm u Razm 339–49. See also Yücel, Kadı Burhaneddin Ahmed; Yinanç, Dulkadir Beyliği 23–32.

384

bernardini

In 802/1400,23 encamping in Malatya, Tīmūr sent an envoy who was imprisoned by the governor of the town, “the son of Muṣṭafā,” i.e., the Ottoman governor of Sivas, a Turkmen.24 For these reasons the Timurid envoys were captured, but the governor was forced to flee. The Timurid army “enslaved in Malatya various Armenians, but released the Muslims with their wives and sons” (arāmana-rā asīr girifta musalmānān-rā bā zanān va-farzandān āzād kardand).25 Mīrānshāh was sent to chase after the gabrs26 with an army and reached the fortress of Kahta, where his army plundered sheep and cattle. From the border of Malatya and these frontiers (ḥudūd) they attacked and defeated various fortresses in the area; in a very short time they conquered the frontier (sarḥadd) between two kingdoms, Shām and Rūm.27 As is typical practice in the Ẓafarnāmas, the description of a new campaign is heightened with mention of the preliminary ghazā operations, i.e., in this case, the capture and enslavement of the Armenians of Malatya. Beltramo Mignanelli notes that Malatya was in a sort of no man’s land between Armenia, Turkey, and Syria.28 The term sarḥadd designates the states which are recog-

23 24

25 26

27

28

Naṭanzī, Muntakhab 375, gives the date 25 Muḥarram 803/15 September 1400. For Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 197, he was “full of ignorance and stupidity as it is typical of all the Turkomans in particular those of Anatolia” (pisar-i Muṣṭafā ḥākim-i Sīvās ki dar ānjā dārūgha būd az sar-i jahl va bilāhatī ki lāzima-yi sirisht-i Turkmānān-ast va-ahl-i Rūm akthar az ān ṭāʾifa-and). In his chronicle, ʿĀşıḳ Pāşā-Zāde also reports that Malatya was taken from the hands of the “Turkmens” during the reign of Bāyazīd I (ʿĀşıḳ Pāşā-Zāde, Osmanoğulları’nın Tarihi 139). Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma i, 220. The identity of these “infidels” is not clear, even if we recognize here again some Turkmens. Mīrkhwānd, Rawżat al-ṣafā vi, 354, mentions some Gurjiyān va-bīdīniyān (“Georgians and infidels”) but this information seems to be the result of a confused perception of previous sources, or perhaps the superimposition of a later perception of the Burjī (Circassian) Mamluks. Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma i, 220; here we could identify a generic reference to the Dhulqadirids, mentioned in the Kitāb-i Diyārbakriyye: Ṭihrānī, Kitāb-i Diyārbakriyye i, 48. The Timurid sources probably refer to them describing the taking of Ālbistān (Elbistan) governed by Turkmen “brigands,” Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma i, 219–20; Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 196–7. See also Yücel, Timur’un Ortadoğu-Anadolu 86. “Et incipiens castrum quoddam situm ultra flumen Eufratis, nomine Qalahat el Rom, quod est dicere castrum Romeorum, soldano suppusitum mancipavit, et deinde descendens ad civitatem nomine Malathiam citra illud, sitam inter Armeniam, Turchiam et Siriam, se dirigens cum infinito agmine illam ad pacta recepit,” Mignanelli, De ruina Damasci 315– 6. On the Mamluk’s return to this area in 802/1399, during the reign of Faraj, even with some ambiguities, see Uzunçarşılı, Osmanlı Tarihi i, 299–300, notes 1 and 2. Generally the Ottoman sources mention these towns being taken by Bāyazīd I from the Turkmens, i.e., the Dhulqadirids, but not that they were returned to the hands of the Mamluks, a fact

shāmī’s description of the syrian campaign of tīmūr

385

nized as political entities, but the idea of the conquest of the triple frontier among the Mamluks, the Ottomans, and the onrushing Timurid army, denotes a triumphalist tone in the Timurid sources29 which is intrinsic to the rest of the description.30 On this Syrian frontier Tīmūr finally raised the reason for the campaign with an allusion to the letter sent to Barqūq in 1393. Shāmī refers to Mongol history together with a repertoire of quotations from the ḥadīths,31 and the more conventional mention of Sūrat al-isrāʾ (17:12). Here is mentioned one of the shaykhs of Sāva, from an old family,32 who, in the year 795/1393 was sent with some royal presents to the vālī of Miṣr, i.e., Sultan Barqūq. The tragic fate of the Timurid delegation and the killing of the ambassador is reported by Shāmī, who draws a direct parallel to the killing of the Chinggisid ambassadors by the Khwarizmshahs.33 Yazdī adds a substantial accusation against Barqūq, who was cheated by Sulṭān Aḥmad Jalāyir and also reconsiders the story of the milk brother (kukeltash) of Tīmūr, Aṭlāmīsh the qawchīn, governor of the fortress of Avnīq,34 who was defeated by Qarā Yūsuf Qara Qoyunlu in 796/1394 and taken

29

30

31 32

33

34

which is apparently the consequence of Timur’s invasion: see e.g., ʿĀşıḳ Pāşā-Zāde, Osmanoğulları’nın Tarihi 139 and Oruç Beğ, Tarih 37. See also Yinanç, Dulkadir Beyliği. The term sarḥadd, “frontier,” delimits the space of the conquest, as in the case of the Frankish frontier (sarḥadd-i Firang), i.e., the Golden Horde/Russian-Lithuanian-Genoese frontier. See Togan, Timurs Osteuropapolitik 285; Bernardini, Mémoire et propagande 78; see also Aubin, L’ Ethnogenèse des Qaraunas, and Aubin, Le Khanat de Čagataï; or the Indian one (sarḥadd-i Hindūstān), Ghiyāth al-Dīn Yazdī, Saʿādat-nāma 59. Yazdī informs us that the town of Malatya passed under the government of Qarā ʿUthmān Aq Qoyunlu; Ẓafarnāma ii, 198; see also Woods, The Aqquyunlu 41. ʿUthmān Turkumān is also mentioned by Mīrkhwānd, Rawżat al-ṣafā vi, 354: according to this author Tīmūr conferred on him (arzānī dāsht) the tavābiʿ (dependencies) and the mużāfāt (appendages) of Malatya. See also Mīrkhwānd, Rawżat al-ṣafā vi, 381. Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma i, 221. Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū mentions the Khwāja Sāvaʾī as an old navvāb already in the service of Amīr Valī, lord of Māzandarān, who passed by the court of Tīmūr after the conquest of this region: Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 159. Ibid. 221–2; see Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 180, for a complete survey of the embassies in this phase. Yazdī adds in his Ẓafarnāma that the killing of the ambassador took place in al-Raḥba (Raḥbat al-Shām), thereby introducing here a further reference to the Ilkhanid-Mamluk relations with an allusion to this frontier place, which was lost at the time of Abagha and re-conquered by Öljaytü: Ẓafarnāma ii, 198. On Raḥbat al-Shām in the Ilkhanid period, see Boyle, The Cambridge history of Iran 364, 391, 403. On Aṭlāmish Bilkūt, see Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 186–7; and Ando, Timuridische Emire 107: in 1400 Tīmūr asked Faraj for his return. He is named by Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma i, 222, among the ghulāmān of Tīmūr; Yazdī considers him an aʿyān-i mamlakat. Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 356.

386

bernardini

prisoner by the sultan of Cairo.35 This episode is one of the various casus belli listed for the Mamluk campaign.36

2

The Letter to Faraj

The killing of the ambassador and the imprisonment of Aṭlāmish are the main argument in Tīmūr’s letter addressed to Faraj from Malatya; according to Shāmī the conquest of Shām (Syria) is against his will (namīkhwāham ki lashkar-i bigāna ba-arāżī-i Shām āvaram). Consequently he calls upon Faraj to not persist in ignorance and to return Aṭlāmīsh without delay, because this could constitute a reason to overlook the killing of the ambassador and to leave “your country” in peace. Shāmī, who is very succinct about the contents of the embassy, does not mention Faraj.37 This could be an excellent example of the difference between his work and that of Yazdī, who introduces the name of the new sultan who replaced his father Barqūq as Lord of Egypt and Syria and raises the subject of the letter in which Tīmūr disapproves of the displeasing behavior of Barqūq (az pedarat anvāʿ-i ḥarakāt-i nāpasandīda ba-ẓuhūr āmad): his killing of the ambassadors and his failure to return Aṭlāmīsh. Barqūq is dead, and for this reason his sins “will be examined on the Day of Judgment.” By contrast, Tīmūr asks Faraj to be prudent and to return Aṭlāmīsh in a reasonable time to prevent the furious vengeance of the bloodthirsty Timurid army. A refusal by Faraj could be the cause of a massacre of Muslims and the impoverishment of his people. But when the ambassadors reached Aleppo, they were captured and imprisoned in the town citadel, according to the “known behavior” (ba-rasm-i maʿhūdi īshān) of the Mamluks. This is the pretext for Yazdī to introduce a long mathnavī in which he transposes Tīmūr’s speech about the Circassian dynasty: The scribe is surprised as is the holder of wisdom But if you take a careful look, there is no surprise: For people who are not of noble ancestry It is not astonishing if they act with depravity. Even if Barqūq owned the kingdom of Egypt and Syria He was a slave and his lord was also a slave.

35 36 37

See also Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū in Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 159. Ibid. i, 222; Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 198. Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma i, 222.

shāmī’s description of the syrian campaign of tīmūr

387

He was a Circassian slave deprived of a line (bītabār) He was corrupted by having been sold and resold, And when he increased his power as master (khwāja) of the kingdom He extracted from the scabbard his treacherous sword And killed the lord from whom he had benefited. Do not expect any reliability from such a man He has taken the kingdom with impudence and fraud And even if that happened with divine help Nevertheless there were no kings in his line. In him there was no royal disposition What comes from the obscure lines of a Circassian Could that be approved by clever thinkers? Such was Barqūq, and the same is true of his child Faraj, When the branch is bad from its root it grows curved He ascended to the throne when he was still a baby He has not learned etiquette and rule from anyone He has not experienced in this world cold and heat Neither has he meditated nor experienced battle Thus it is better that I abridge my speech The father was of bad essence; the son unskillful Along these lines wrote appropriately the eloquent [poet] of Ṭūs: The tree which is bitter by its very nature [Do not plant it in the Garden of Paradise]38 Take these words like a treasure: The Truth is fastened here.39 After this versified speech, Yazdī adds that Tīmūr broke out in a rage and decided to invade Syria and ravage it.

38 39

This verse of Firdawsī is a javāb to one of Abū Shakūr of Balkh, included in the satire against Sultan Maḥmūd (cf. Maḥjūb, Sabk-i khurāsānī 124). Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 201–2. An interesting reference to Bāyazīd closes the paragraph: despite his displays of bravery and harshness, with his threats and menaces sent to Tīmūr with an ambassador, he was unable to take the field and was unable to oppose the Timurid army that conquered Sivas, Malatya, and Kahta, which were all part of its domains.

388 3

bernardini

Bahasnā (Besni) and ʿAntāb (ʿAyntāb)

The army commanded by the prince Shāh Rukh then attacked the fortress of Bahasnā (present-day Besni in southeast Turkey).40 The version of this attack in Shāmī differs from that of Yazdī: the former says that the people of the fortress defended it vigorously with a manjanīq-i gardān (a turning trebuchet) placed in the middle of the fortress (qalʿa); and it was able to strike over the four sides of the fortress walls. A tunnel was excavated near the fortress and was rapidly emptied and filled with wood. At the same time the Timurids built a huge trebuchet. Then the order was given to set fire to the wood of the tunnel, and a heavy stone was thrown over their trebuchet, which was destroyed when a part of the walls and the towers fell down. When the besieged were certain of Tīmūr’s success, they expressed their intention to surrender and they dispatched some judges (quḍāt) and imams (aʾimma) with presents. They asked the prince Shāh Rukh to be their intercessor; he agreed to do so and addressed their request to Tīmūr, who accepted the request and ordered that they should be forgiven, and he refrained from shedding their blood. So, the muezzin returned and announced from the minaret the name and the titles (nām va-alqāb) of the pādshāh.41 In his version Yazdī introduces various further elements:42 first, the army of Tīmūr encamped near the town on a hill from where Tīmūr observed the entire situation, and Yazdī notes that they were in an area rich with streams of water. The fortress appeared to them impressively solid and unassailable. The soldiers plundered all of the surrounding area. Here Yazdī introduces the figure of the Mamluk governor of the qalʿa, a certain Muqbil43 who was an officer placed there to oversee the citadel.44 He built the trebuchet and launched a great stone which fell down near Tīmūr’s own tent and rolled inside it. This bravery ( jarāʾat) produced a violent reaction in Tīmūr, who launched an attack on the town. According to Yazdī, Tīmūr ordered that twenty trebuchets be placed around the citadel, one in the exact point where Muqbil’s projectile had fallen, and the very stone launched by this trebuchet hit the trebuchet in the fortress and destroyed it, which was interpreted as a good omen. The army of Tīmūr was

40 41 42

43 44

On this town and its Mamluk fortress, see Sinclair, Eastern Turkey iv, 79–80. Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma i, 223. On that see Aubin, Comment Tamerlan 96. We might note here (but also in various Ottoman sources) the wrong transcription of the name of the town (Bihishtī) by Muḥammad ʿAbbāsī in his edition. Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 204. Muqbil al-Rūmī? See Mayer, Saracenic heraldry 167–8. The identity of this Dhulqadir is not clear here. See Yinanç, Dulkadir Beyliği 34–5.

shāmī’s description of the syrian campaign of tīmūr

389

then joined by the amīrzāda Rustam with all of the “Persian army” (lashkar-i Fārs).45 The violent attacks and the breaches in the walls brought Muqbil to a more submissive attitude and he asked to surrender, but he also said that he would leave the citadel only on the condition that he was spared by Tīmūr. Tīmūr’s reply seems to indicate that some of his actions had propagandistic aims: Tīmūr answered that he would leave him free only after the conquest of the citadel, because to leave the siege might demonstrate to “someone” shortsighted (mardum-i kūtah-naẓar) that he was unable to conquer the fortress. Yazdī mentions the date of 7 Ṣafar 803/27 September 1400, “when the fire was set to the woods in the galleries around the town” and all the authorities, including the same Muqbil, reached Tīmūr with presents and marks of submission.46 The conquest of ʿAntāb (ʿAyntāb, present-day Gazyantep) appeared more simply: Shāmī begins the description with the attractions of the town, which produced wheat and fruit in great quantities. The more important inhabitants of the town (mardum-i ḥisābī) had escaped by the time Tīmūr arrived. Only a few vulgar people (arāẕil) and the mob (awbāsh) remained in the town and shut themselves up in the citadel. This fortress was well fortified with a moat 30 gaz (ca. 19 meters) deep, and the main entrance was protected by a drawbridge. In a summary way Shāmī describes the conquest of the citadel, the killing of the various people in it, and the destruction of the walls;47 this is difficult to verify today because the present building only dates back to Qāytbāy (879/1475–6).48

4

The Mamluk Assembly against Tīmūr

In his description of Tīmūr’s advance on Aleppo, Shāmī notes that the taking of Bahasnā produced great panic among the Mamluk forces. Tīmūrtāsh, who was the malik al-umarāʾ in Aleppo, sent a report describing the situation to the lord of Egypt (vālī-i Miṣr),49 who mobilized the amirs of Damascus,

45 46 47 48

49

On Rustam b. Ṭughāy Bughā, see Ando, Timuridische Emire 71–2. Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 205–6. Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma i, 223–4. For the Mamluk citadel and town, see Sinclair, Eastern Turkey iv, 101–13. Yazdī mentions the conquest of ʿAyntāb without differing substantially from Shāmī: Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 206–7. See also Aubin, Comment Tamerlan 96. Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 207, calls Tīmūrtāsh ḥākim of Aleppo (governor) and Cairo (Miṣr) as the takhtgāh of these kingdoms (mamālik). On Tīmūrtāsh, see Mignanelli, De ruina Damasci 316: “[Aleppo] Que quidam civitas populosa, amena et grandis est … Quod dum cerneret, locumtenents soldani commorans in Alapia, nomine proprio Domordex El Chasichi, apud eos homo juvenis et robustus et magni cordis, a natura cristianus de partibus

390

bernardini

Tripoli, Homs, Hama, Baalbek, Ṣafad, Qalʿat al-Rūm, and others;50 they reached Aleppo and met to see how they could help Tīmūrtāsh. The amirs convened a great assembly (ḥashrī ʿaẓīm angīkhtand). The malik al-umarāʾ of Damascus, Sūdūn,51 joined Tīmūrtāsh with a great army and together they formed an even stronger one. Shāmī underlines the psychological attitude of Tīmūrtāsh, who was cleverer than the others, showed particular prudence, and in a public speech he urged the people not to take reckless decisions, and to decide by deliberating intelligently and reaching a decision unanimously. “This people who approach us have a king that they perceive to be as fierce as Chinggis Khān and they believe to be welcomed by humankind.”52 Yazdī adds to Shāmī’s words that Tīmūrtāsh exhorted the people to include the name of Tīmūr in the khuṭba and in the coinage.53 Shāmī then offers a vivid picture of the discussion which opened among the participants: whatever came to their mind they said openly until they adopted a common strategy, and proclaimed: “this person (shakhṣ) is assisted by God, and everywhere he went he conquered. Those who stood up to him and made great efforts against him and the sultans of the entire world finally surrendered to him because it is impossible to oppose such a man.” The final suggestion was to yield to the invader.54 Other “less experienced people” (ki tajrubat-i rūzgār kamtar yāfta būdand) headed by Sūdūn reacted vehemently, and exalted the value of the Mamluk army, which was greater in number, had better fortifications, and more solid fortresses. Here Sūdūn introduced a very interesting subject: the architectural virtues of the Mamluk buildings as against those of the Timurids: “their castles are mainly made with mud and earth; our castles and our towns are made of stone or even of steel.” According to Sūdūn the siege of the Mamluk towns would take the Timurids months and even years. He invited all the participants to consider the difference between Mamluk weapons and those of the

50 51

52 53 54

Salonich in partibus Achaie, a nostra Tessalonica nominata, saracenus tamen affectus, volens isti hostes resistere, ab aliis patriotis et vicariis soldani implorat auxilium: videlicet a Damasco, Tripoli, Haman, Homos et alii convicinis et in tantum quod evestigio XXXa vel XXXa milia hominum congregantur …” Ibn ʿArabshāh describes Tīmūrtāsh as a secret ally of Tīmūr: Ibn ʿArabshāh, ʿAjāʾib al-maqdūr 204. See also Fischel, A new Latin source 210. Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 207, adds Antakya, Nablus, Kanʿān, Ghazza, Ramla, Jerusalem, and Karak to the list. See also for this list Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū in Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 159. Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 208, calls him Shadūn, but the name Sūdūn is the correct one. See also Ibn ʿArabshāh, ʿAjāʾib al-maqdūr 199–200, and Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 190; Fischel, Ibn Khaldūn and Tamerlane 65–6. Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma i, 225. Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma i, 209. Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma i, 225.

shāmī’s description of the syrian campaign of tīmūr

391

Timurids: he exalted the bows from Damascus, Egyptian swords, Arab spears,55 and the shields from Aleppo. Sūdūn’s harangue continued, and he cited reasons they need not worry about the size of the Timurid army and asserted that in the Mamluk “kingdom” there are sixty thousand villages and townships (dih and qaṣaba) registered, and if only one person came from each village, they would prevail over the Timurids. “They stay in the desert; we are in castles; the walls of their houses are of skin and ropes; our castles are of stone and iron (sandān).”56 A group of “balanced people” invited the assembly to use a certain prudence in war and litigation: the twists and turns of fate are unknown and it could be useless and foolish to oppose the celestial decrees and sacrifice their sons and risk the destruction of their property. The discussion continued with a further call for war from the faction of war supporters. A group of Persians ( jamāʿatī az ʿAjam) who were “famous for their good lifestyle,” on observing the various opinions in the assembly, proposed their opinion as independent, and invited the assembly not to decide with haste and to consider the consequences carefully. But this call was also rejected by the warmongers, who even accused the “Persians” of being spies and plotting secretly to assist the Mongols to invade the kingdom again one day. Here Shāmī introduceds a typical rhetorical device: “Intellect laughed at this, but Time wept for their state”57 and adds that they forbade these “good counselors” from leaving the town. The defense of the town walls, tower, and fortifications was prepared. In the meantime the Timurid army slowly advanced into Syrian territory; they progressed at a rate of two rūzas (“days”) of road per week, approximately one parasang per day, with various stops. When they arrived, Tīmūr ordered that a moat be excavated around the army and the soldiers took their shields of cow hide (gāv separ) and their tūra,58 and placed them in front to create a particular impression of power to the enemies. On the same day the “beloved son” amīrzāda Sulṭān Ḥusayn Bahādur,59 with some nowkars and intimates, reached

55 56 57

58

59

For Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 210: zirrihā ʿarabī (Arab chainmail). On this passage, see in particular the version of Yazdī, Bernardini, Aspects littéraires 38. Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma i, 225. This passage is quite different in Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 210, who does not mention the “Persians.” They are later mentioned again by Mīrkhwānd, Rawżat al-ṣafā vi, 359: ʿAjamiyān. In his “Index des mots,” added to part II (Introduction, commentaire, index) of Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma, ii, 270, Tauer wrote: “‫ توره‬٬‫تورها‬: Sorte de mantelet que portent les combattants en guise de bouclier et que dans d’ autres circonstances ils plantent en terre de manière à former un retranchement.” See also Doerfer, Türkische und mongolische Elemente iv, 608– 11 (§ 958). A grandson of Tīmūr, son of his daughter Āqā Bīgī. See Ando, Timuridische Emire 81, 97, 125, 146, 168. On the fate of this prince, see below.

392

bernardini

an enemy vanguard, and showed particular bravery because the enemies’ forces were numerous. They captured three of them, tied their necks and their hands, and when the rest of the Mamluk vanguard saw the power of the Timurid army, they lagged behind.60 A second heroic exploit was made by amīrzāda Abū Bakr, the son of the prince Mīrānshāh (ki ham farzand-i farzand-ast);61 he engaged a “countless” army of Mamluks with [just] sixty persons. Finally, both sides declined further engagement and returned to their own positions. Another engagement between both the vanguards took place the following day.62

5

The Composition of the Timurid Army and the Battle of Aleppo

On the third day of the siege the whole Timurid army was deployed. As in other histories, the description of the army provides a very useful historiographical instrument, particularly where it concerns Timurid ritual and protocol and the hierarchy of the chain of command. As I noted elsewhere, this last aspect also includes Tīmūr’s recognition of those who had participated in other campaigns, in particular the Indian one of 800–1/1398–9.63 On the taking of Aleppo, Shāmī’s direct evidence is more restrained than that of later accounts, which expanded his work. Yazdī, who sometimes followed previous evidence word by word, made various additions, mainly in the names of participants and other additions concerning the battle. According to Ibn ʿArabshāh, Tīmūr’s army was a remarkable mix: there were Turanians and Iranians, people from Turkestan, Badakhshan, Dasht-i Qipchaq, China, Mongols, and Jetes (al-Jatā, i.e., from Moghulestan); people from Khojand and Andakān; Khwarizm and Jurjan; Ṣaghāniyān (Chaghāniyān) and from the castle of Shādmān; Fars; Khurasan; Mazandaran; from Jibāl, Rustamdār, and Ṭāliqān; from Khuz(istan) and Kirman; Ṭalas; Isfahan; Rayy; Ghazna and Hamadan; elephants from Hind, Sind, Multan; people from Lūr; Ghūr; Shahrazūr; Makram (Makran) and Jundīshāpūr. Ibn ʿArabshāh also introduces the typical features of the post-Ibn Taymiyya anti-Mongol polemics, such as the theme of the Dajjāl at the head of the army of Gog and Magog (Jūj waYājūj), to which were joined an auxiliary force—a mob of dissolute Turkmens

60 61 62 63

Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma i, 229. Abā Bakr b. Mīrānshāh, see Ando, Timuridische Emire 105. Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma i, 229. Bernardini, The army of Timur. See also Alexandrescu-Dersca, La Campagne de Timur.

shāmī’s description of the syrian campaign of tīmūr

393

(al-Tarākima al-awbāsh); and the “worst” Arabs and Persians.64 Ibn ʿArabshāh’s indication that Tīmūr had 800,000 soldiers was certainly exaggerated.65 Shāmī’s description of the composition of the armies is reduced to some key figures, obviously starting with Tīmūr himself, who is placed in the qūl of the army: the center. In front of him was a line of elephants with cuirasses, weapons, and drivers of the elephants. These were clearly meant to arouse panic among the enemies, who “had their hearts shaken by that.”66 On his right side was a tūmān of “brave warriors,” charged to capture any retreating enemies commanded (as right wing of the center, dast-i rāst) by Abū Bakr b. Mīrānshāh. The second protagonist of the heroic deeds that preceded the battle was Sulṭān Ḥusayn [b. Āqā Bīgī bt. Tīmūr], who was placed at the head of the javāngār, i.e., the left flank. The prince Jahānshāh [b. Chākū Barlās] was behind him.67 Yazdī offers a more extensive description, starting with the date of the battle, 9 Rabīʿ I [803]/28 October 1400. He adds that Mīrānshāh was positioned in the right flank (barānghār). Together with him was the royal prince Shāh Rukh, with various noyans, including the amir Sulaymānshāh [b. Dāwūd Dughlat]. Probably by mistake Yazdī placed Abū Bakr b. Mīrānshāh in the right flank (qunbul), instead of the right wing. Sulṭān Maḥmūd Khān b. Soyurghatmısh was placed on the javāngār, with Jahānshāh. Sulṭān Ḥusayn b. Āqā Bigī bt. Tīmūr was placed on the left qunbul, although this evidence is contradicted by Shāmī, who placed him at the head of the javāngār.68 Such differences are probably the result of a particular deployment of the army, as compared with other battles, and first the battle of Ankara. Neither Shāmī nor Yazdī mentions the participation of other elements, such as Ibrāhīm (the son of Qarā ʿUthmān Aq Qoyunlu), who is mentioned in the Kitāb-i Diyārbakriyye as a particularly valiant warrior who obtained from Tīmūr the town of Amid as a reward for participating in Aleppo.69 The description of the battle offers further data on the composition of the army. In a traditional Mongol tactic, Tīmūr simulated escape and drew the enemies into an ambush, as Mignanelli states in his De ruina Damasci: “Illi vero Thomor, callide fingendo fugam, genti soldani viam aperiunt et intrare 64 65 66

67 68 69

Ibn ʿArabshāh, ʿAjāʾib al-maqdūr 195. Ibid. 211–2. On these passages see McChesney, The life and works 236–7. Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 213 adds a verse here that on the top of the elephants were some ātishandāz (casting out fire, i.e., Greek fire users?) and nāwakfikan, i.e., archers. On this subject, see Woods, The Aq-Qoyunlu and firearms, in his introduction to Khunjī Iṣfahānī, Tārīkh-i ʿālam-ārā-yi Aminī 98–100. Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma i, 226–7. Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 212–3. Ṭihrānī, Kitāb-i Diyārbakriyye i, 48; see Woods, The Aqquyunlu 41, note 86.

394

bernardini

intus bene permittunt, tandem se restringentes insimul, illos soldani ut in vallo detrudunt, et atrociter adeo ipsos feriunt quod post morulam deficiunt, et post interitum magne partis ipsorum omnes, ut femine, capiuntur.”70 Shāmī gives a slightly different version of the story: the Mamluks were so frightened that they ran away, turning their backs on the Timurid army. Various Mamluk amirs and infantrymen were killed. The gateway of Aleppo was covered with heaped bodies and the Mamluk cavalry rode over them and entered the town, though this was difficult for the horses and mules, and the soldiers assembled nearby preferred to flee in the direction of Damascus; the Timurid army were hot on their heels (nikāvūlī karda)71 and killed several with arrows and swords. Others were trodden down by the horses. The rest of the Timurid army was occupied in the attack and conquest of the town. Having captured it, they took the people prisoner, and plundered great quantities of gold, riches, and textiles. Sūdūn and Tīmūrtāsh escaped to the citadel, counting on the solidity of its stone walls and towers and its famous deep moat. They started to “fire” against the Timurids.72 In front of them Tīmūr, seated on a carpet, ordered his army to encamp around the moat. They shot so many arrows that no one was able to reach the towers. The sappers (chākhūrgān) received the order to excavate a trench near the walls. In this way, “like partridges” (kabk), they reached the wall and started to excavate a tunnel. Here Shāmī adds a biographical note: at this moment he reached Aleppo from the Hijaz, where he had gone on pilgrimage. He was taken prisoner (asīr) in Aleppo73 and personally observed a curious event. He was on a roof in front of the gate of Aleppo and witnessed the activity of the sappers. Suddenly he noticed that the door of the fortress opened and five valiant soldiers tied together a rope, the end of which was held by some people in the towers. They attempted a sortie but were struck by a shower of arrows and pinned to the ground. The people in the fortress shouted out and rescued their com-

70 71

72

73

Mignanelli, De ruina Damasci 316. Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma ii (Introduction, commentaire, index), 304: “‫ … نكاول‬homme (troupe) qui poursuit quelqu’ un”; Doerfer, Türkische und mongolische Elemente 531–2 (§392): (nēkǟvül) ‘Verfolgungskommando.’ Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma i, 226 uses here the expression raʿdandāzī āghāz kardan, which could be interpreted as fire against the enemy, even if it is not completely clear what the author meant. See also Yazdī’s previous verse on the ātishandāz and nāwakfigan (infra). The same author refers to some naftbāzān, i.e., “naphta-casters,” and that raʿdandāzī begun: Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 219. The use of a sort of “fire arms” (raʿdandāz) was observed in India in the army of Maḥmūd Tughluq, see Ghiyāth al-Dīn Yazdī, Saʿādat-nāma 112. He was later readmitted to the imperial entourage. See Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma i, 227; Woods, The rise 85.

shāmī’s description of the syrian campaign of tīmūr

395

rades from the towers with the ropes, but Shāmī specifies that he was unable to understand if they were dead or alive. Others showed no such boldness and did not cross between the towers; they gave way to fear.74 Finally Tīmūr sent an envoy with a suggestion (naṣīḥa) for the “imprudent” besieged people, inviting them to save their lives: he described his military successes as a consequence of God’s support for him to conquer the whole world. At this moment Sūdūn and Tīmūrtāsh with the qāḍīs, the imams, and the town authorities with the keys of the town and those of the treasury opened the gate of the fortress, and surrendered to Tīmūr, who put Sūdūn and Tīmūrtāsh in chains and threw them into jail (maḥbūs).75 The treasures and the riches of the town were gathered and displayed to the navāb-i dīvān-i ʿālī (Tīmūr) and then distributed to the amirs who had participated in the battle. The rest of the riches were given to ʿIzz al-Dīn Malik Hizārgarī76 and to Shāhshāhān Abū l-Fatḥ, who were the amirs in charge of the command of the armies of Sistan and Zāval,77 and to Shaykh Mūsā Tūybughā,78 who had evidently distinguished themselves in the battle.79 Here Yazdī adds the episode about sending Asanbughā l-Dawādār, a Mamluk functionary captured in the citadel, to Faraj to announce that the town was taken as revenge for the Aṭlāmish episode, and the capture of Sūdūn and Tīmūrtāsh. He invited the sultan to return Aṭlāmish; otherwise all the prisoners in Aleppo would be killed.80

74

75

76

77

78 79 80

Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma i, 227–8. Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū in Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 160 mentions the presence of Mawlānā Niẓām al-Dīn Shāmī and his personal statement (Mawlānā Niẓām al-Dīn Shāmī taqrīr farmūd ki …). See also Samarqandī, Maṭlaʿ-i saʿdayn i, 851, who closely follows Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū’s version of Shāmī’s narrative. The same episode is described in an indirect way, without mention of Shāmī, by Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 220. Ibn ʿArabshāh differs from this version: Tīmūrtāsh was welcomed by Tīmūr, who also gave him a khilʿa (robe d’ honneur), Sūdūn and Shaykh ʿAlī Khāṣṣakī were imprisoned: Ibn ʿArabshāh, ʿAjāʾib al-maqdūr 209. On Tīmūrtāsh see also Fischel, A new Latin source 211, note 1. Naṭanzī, Muntakhab 376, gives the date of the taking of the citadel, 11 Ṣafar 803/1 October 1400. In the additions of Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū (Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 160), he is considered the son of Sayyid ʿImād, governor of the kingdom of Qumis. With regard to the title of hazārgarī, it probably refers to his rule of Simnān and Hazār Jarīb, see on him Manz, The rise 191, note 34. The title of shāhshāhān is frequently used for the lords of Sistan; their names are not mentioned with the exception of Quṭb al-Dīn. But the name Abū l-Fatḥ is mentioned here for the first and apparently only time. On Shaykh Mūsā Tūybughā (Rīgmāl) see Ando, Timuridische Emire 72. Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma i, 228. Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 221.

396

bernardini

Just before this episode, Tīmūr had sent to Hama a force of raiders (īlghār) headed by three amirs, Sulaymānshāh, Rustam [b. Ṭughāy Bughā Barlās],81 and Savinjīk.82 They captured the town but the well-fortified citadel resisted; so Tīmūr left Aleppo for Hama, and on the way conquered three small unspecified castles (qalʿacha). After the surrender of the town, the army took a break for twenty days to build a large encampment, “resembling a second town”: a dīvānkhāna (audience hall) was prepared together with some residences for the aristocracy.83 There the main officers invited Tīmūr to slow the advance across Syria, and asked him to rest for a period during the spring by the sea at Tripoli for the sake of the men and horses. They urged him to consider the solidity of the Syrian fortifications and the fact that the enemies were serious about defending themselves. Tīmūr was irritated by these words and immediately proposed to advance toward the town of Homs. But first he sent an important officer of the qaravūl (vanguard), whose name Shāmī does not provide, to proceed with “advice and menace”; the Homs population agreed to surrender without any hesitation and receive the invaders at the gates of the town.84 Shāmī introduces the taking of Baalbek—a new target for Tīmūr—with the conventional mention of Salomon, who is generally considered the founder of the town in the Muslim sources. The solidity of the town, where Roman temples were reused as fortresses85 was again the object of consideration, particularly with regard to their dimensions and the use of stone: some say that these buildings were made by the jinns. He also exalts the dimensions of the stones used for the buildings. The town was conquered without any great trouble, and the army was able to store fruit and corn. But the season was harsh, and the position of Baalbek unfortunate, being exposed to rain and snow. For this reason the army left the area and Tīmūr stopped not far away to visit a tomb attributed to the Prophet Noah.86 81 82 83

84 85 86

See above, note 34. Ando, Timuridische Emire 102. Here Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū (Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 161) adds that he was personally present in Hama with the amirs Jalāl al-Islām (who was a member of the dīvān and later killed in battle during the Anatolian campaign; on him see Manz, The rise 111; for his participation in the Indian campaign, see Ghiyāth al-Dīn Yazdī, Saʿādat-nāma 69 and 175). Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū also mentions Shihāb al-Dīn ʿAbdallāh Lisān, probably a muhrdār of Tīmūr; see Ando, Timuridische Emire 249. During his stay on the outskirts of Hama, Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū observed that the amir Jalāl al-Islām ordered that an enormous stone be dragged away with a rope, probably from a Roman or Byzantine structure. Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma i, 229. On this subject see an interesting note in Yerasimos, La Fondation de Constantinople 56; and Le Strange, Palestine 297. Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma i, 229.

shāmī’s description of the syrian campaign of tīmūr

6

397

Toward Damascus

As noted, the conquest of Damascus has been the object of particular scholarly attention, especially with regard to the matter of the ransom extorted and its consequences,87 and indeed the fire in the Great Mosque.88 Moreover, a careful reading of Shāmī yields various additional data. The people who fled from Aleppo reached Damascus in waves, and sent envoys to Cairo encouraging Faraj to intervene against this new danger. Finally Faraj collected a heterogeneous and numerous army with which he reached Damascus. He reinforced and fortified the town. Faraj prepared three volunteers (mard-i fidāʾī), each with a hidden dagger, and disguised them as envoys and sent them to Tīmūr. During the audience they were to take the first opportunity to kill him. These people accepted and reached Tīmūr. They had various opportunities to kill him but were unable to do so: Tīmūr was very well protected and it was also impossible for them to use their hands. Finally they were unmasked by the nobles (arkān-i dawlat) and the daggers were found in their boots.89 After the discovery of the plot, Tīmūr explained that he would not respect the yāsa which prohibits the killing of ambassadors, because these people were not true ambassadors, and he ordered that the leader of the group be killed and his body be displayed.90 The two others were sent back to Damascus.91 Tīmūr then assembled the army and on 15 Jumādā II 803/31 January 1401, he broke the encampment and set off toward Damascus.92 Some people of the Timurid vanguards (qarāwlān) engaged a Mamluk vanguard (qarāwl) and killed several people, capturing a number of enemies who were conducted to Tīmūr. He issued an order to kill them, and it was immediately executed. After crossing a vast desert, he ordered his men to set up camp.93 He decreed the

87 88 89

90 91 92 93

Heidemann, Timur’s campmint. Vigouroux, La Mosquée des Omeyyades. Here Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 226, introduces the figure of the court writer (az navīsandagān-i buzurg-i dīvān-i ʿālī) Khwāja Masʿūd Simnānī, who discovered the plotters and the poisoned daggers in their boots. Also in this case Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 227, enlarges the story, adding the episode of the noses and ears of the two envoys being cut off. Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma i, 230. Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 225, also mentions some incursions of his army in Sidon and Beirut. The version of Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 227, adds a great number of details that are not written in Shāmī: Tīmūr stationed on the Qubba-yi Sayyār (Qubbat al-Sayyār) a hill with the same name exists today northwest of Damascus. He also names the chief who headed the skirmishes of the vanguards (Amīr Savinjīk).

398

bernardini

construction of a fortification of stone (ḥiṣārī) to the height of a man. They also excavated a trench for the soldiers. Then the qarāwlān of the left and the right flanks, the center and the wings, the infantrymen of the tūmānāt, the hizāra, the ṣada, and the qūshūns, appeared and defended the position. At this point he describes the “curious” (gharīb) episode of Sulṭān Ḥusayn, grandson of Tīmūr:94 the prince, who had shown his bravery on various occasions, was convinced by a group of seditious men (mufsidān) and by the mob (awbāsh)95 to pass the lines and enter Damascus. Sulṭān Ḥusayn was then received in Cairo as a sultan, and was displayed to the people in the town. He was welcomed by Faraj himself, who treated him as an intimate and imagined future victory.96 Here Shāmī describes the embassy sent to Cairo, in which Tīmūr again demanded the return of Aṭlāmish, a letter which became the pretext for Yazdī’s further eloquence.97 The letter ends with an offering of peace and friendship “despite everything”: the one condition is that the name of Tīmūr be inscribed on the coins and pronounced in the khuṭba; if he chose to refuse he would meet with destruction. On this occasion the ambassadors were received with great honor and friendship. A particular spectacle was performed by the “musketeers” raʿdandāzān, the “bowmen” charkhgoshān, and the “archers” nāvakzanān.98 Faraj in turn sent an envoy to Tīmūr proposing the restitution of

94 95

96

97 98

On this episode in particular, see Broadbridge, Spy or Rebel? Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 228, calls them tājīk, “Persians.” On this episode see Manz, The rise 114: “the attitude of Temür and his followers towards the Persians, combining familiarity and contempt, led them to constrict the role of Persian bureaucrats. The epithet ‘Tājīk-mizāj,’ ‘Persian natured,’ is found in the histories as an expression of contempt. When princes of the royal house misbehaved, as occasionally happened, the responsibility was quickly assigned to the Persian in their entourage; the influence of these corrupt people was seen as the cause for Mīrānshāh’s excesses when he ‘went insane,’ for the failure of Pīr Muḥammad b. ʿUmar Shaykh to go in campaign as ordered in 802/1399–1400, and for the defection of Temür’s grandson Sulṭān Ḥusayn to the enemy in Damascus in 802/1400–1.” For Naṭanzī, Muntakhab 376, the betrayal of Sulṭān Ḥusayn derived from the fact that he was “completely drunk” (az ghāyat-i mastī) but during the hangover after the drunkenness (chūn khiyāl-i sharāb az sar-i Sulṭān Ḥusayn raft) he realized that he was in the enemy army; see on this version Broadbridge, Spy or Rebel? 30–2. Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma i, 231. In this part of the text, the versions of Shāmī and Yazdī are quite confused in chronological terms and it appears that Yazdī tried to “arrange” the sequence of the events described by Shāmī but he made various interpolations. Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma i, 231; Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 228–9. Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma i, 231. The translation of these terms here is somewhat imprecise because we do not know exactly what kind of weapons are mentioned. Are firearms included? The fact that Shāmī adds that this show of arms was meagre compared with the army of Tīmūr, whose power the Mamluks had not experienced, seems to indicate

shāmī’s description of the syrian campaign of tīmūr

399

Aṭlāmish in five days, apparently with a sufficient display of submission. Once the envoy reached Tīmūr’s court, he was received with the honor due to important ambassadors, and his speech inclined Tīmūr to a certain indulgence. After remaining for a certain period, the army moved to an empty area99 in the eastern part of Damascus, where there was sufficient water and forage, having asked for a period of rest for the soldiers and the animals. This change of position again struck the minds of the Mamluks, who, “inspired by the Devil” (ba-dast-i vasvashā-yi shayṭānī) considered this repositioning an act of weakness. They thought that in this position it was impossible for the army of Tīmūr to arrange its vanguards. The army of Damascus was “pervaded by his pride” and they considered the occasion advantageous for a successful attack. Shāmī describes this plan ironically: “They were unaware that from the back of the tent of the Hidden [God] would appear the image of the victorious Lord of the Stars conjunction [Tīmūr] and that from the destruction of the Syrian army would blossom the dawn of the reign.”100 A large Mamluk army was prepared, its knights perfectly armed with splendid weapons. All the people of Damascus who were able to fight, including the populace, joined them with extemporary weapons, such as knives and rudimentary bows.101 Having ascertained the situation, Tīmūr climbed a hill with fifty of his closest intimates (khavāṣṣ-i mulāzim) and “ordered them to arrange a place and to eat a meal” ( farmūd tā khwān bagustardand va-ṭaʿām bakakhīdand).102 From this hill he observed the situation and was amused by the javānghar which was attacked by all of the Syrian army. He ordered each of his intimates to take with them a hundred people and fight the enemies.

99 100 101 102

that the intention was to impress the enemy. Moreover, the mention of this unusual corps of the army might have been intended to show that these weapons differed greatly from the usual ones. Again an addition of Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma i, 230, who mentions the fact that this place was the Ghūṭa. Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma i, 232. Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 231, extends the description of the Mamluk army, but omits this particular. As a typical example of the manipulation of the text of Shāmī, we can note here that Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma, ii, 231, transforms the episode of the meal on the top of the hill into something more solemn, changing the meal with the prayer (bar qāʿida-yi maʿhūd ba-namāz mashghūl shud). See also Aubin, Comment Tamerlan 87.

400 7

bernardini

The Taking of Damascus

From the hill, Tīmūr ordered that an encampment be set up and the area fortified.103 Shāmī describes the battle and victory against the Mamluks in a few lines. He emphasizes that a large number of enemies were killed, in particular the infantrymen, and several slaves were captured. The rest of the Mamluk army was driven back to the outskirts of Damascus (tā kināra-yi bāghāt vaʿimārat-i Dimashq). Along the lines of combatants some soldiers reached Sulṭān Ḥusayn, who was in the Mamluk lines, and captured him. He was guided to Tīmūr,104 who showed his “royal magnanimity and paternal favor” but ordered, according to the yāsa, that he be put in chains and thrown in prison. Some days later, thanks to the intercession of Shāh Rukh, he was set free and Tīmūr gave him a robe of honor and assigned him a personal suyūrghāl.105 Then the army reached the orchards around Damascus (bāghāt-i Dimashq) and encamped there. They protected the army with the tūras, the gāvsepars, and the tripods (sipāyhā) by forming a sort of wall.106 Having emptied the water from the moat in front of the town, they crossed it and the army was deployed before the Mamluks. The enemy’s army was very well equipped, even though they were afraid and they began to escape the battlefield in small groups.107 The Lord of Egypt (vālī-i Miṣr) convened a council with all his amirs, and asked them what was the most expedient action to take. Shāmī again describes the discus-

103

104

105

106 107

Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 233, gives a more extensive description, mentioning the various amirs involved: Savinjīk together with Shāhmalik (see Ando, Timuridische Emire 106), Sayyid Khwāja Shaykh ʿAlī (ibid. 133), all amirs of a tūmān, were placed in the vanguard of the center (harāvūl-i qūl). Other amirs of the qūshūns were Ṣāʾin Tīmūr, Muḥammad Āzād, and Tavakkul Bāvūrjī (ibid. 249). Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma i, 233. This episode is substantially enlarged in Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 234, who introduces the date of the event, 19 Jumādā I 803/5 January 1401, and describes the capture of Sulṭān Ḥusayn introducing Mīrānshāh and Shāh Rukh, and the capture of the amir by Tūblāq Qawchīn, a muhrdār at the service of Shāh Rukh (see Ando, Timuridische Emire 160). This Tūblāq Qawchīn reached the horse of Sulṭān Ḥusayn and seized the reins, consigning him to Shāh Rukh who conducted Sulṭān Ḥusayn to Tīmūr. Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 234, introduces some additions: Tīmūr was initially furious but he released him after a short time, and only assigned to Sulṭān Ḥusayn the punishment of the yāsāq, which consisted of the chūb, i.e., the cudgeling. Contrary to the version of Shāmī, Sulṭān Ḥusayn was not gratified with a robe of honor and a suyūrghāl, but the worse punishment for him was expulsion from the majlis-i humāyūn. Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 235, adds that the Timurid army put all the elephants on a show from a hill to horrify the enemies. On this aspect see Mignanelli, De ruina Damasci 321–2; and Fischel, A new Latin source 216.

shāmī’s description of the syrian campaign of tīmūr

401

sion among the Mamluk dignitaries, without any indication of their names:108 a small group of them emphasized the tragic consequences of the previous battle (the many fallen in battle and made prisoners), but noted that the fortifications and defense of the town still stood firm and the army was ready to fight again. Another group was persuaded that the Timurid army was extremely dangerous and that saving their lives was all that mattered; they suggested that the sultan escape to Cairo and leave the army in the town. If the army were able to defend the town, so much the better; if not, the life of the sultan would be saved. Faraj then sent an ambassador to Tīmūr to assert that the events of the previous night were not his responsibility, but were due to a group of ignorant and common men (az jumʿayi jāhilān va ʿavāmm al-nās ṣādir shud); he would comply with Tīmūr’s demands. Finally, he showed a serious intention to preserve peace and friendship. Tīmūr then asked for the entire army to return and encamp again. During the following night the vālī-i Miṣr and some of his amirs and dignitaries fled to Cairo. When the Timurid army was informed of their flight they sent a corps after them.109 This corps was formed by the amīrzādas Sultān Ḥusayn and Rustam, the amirs Shaykh Nūr al-Dīn,110 Shāhmalik, Savinjīk, Allāhdād,111 and various others. They captured and killed a number of infantrymen, and captured livestock, horses, camels, and other animals abandoned by the escaping army. According to Shāmī the Mamluk chiefs declared: “flight in time is favorable” (gurīz ba-hangām pīrūzī-st).112 Shāmī also ironically alludes to “the propitious victorious” army (lashkar-i manṣūr-i pīrūzī) of Tīmūr with a subtle play of words. The town was easily surrounded and, in the course of the same day, half of it was occupied. They plundered riches, weapons, horses, camels, different kinds of silken clothes and merchandise together with wheat and fruit. At last they stopped to take a break from plundering. The army lodged in the houses outside the town. Tīmūr visited the sanctuaries of Umm Salama and Umm Ḥabība, who were spouses of the Prophet Muḥammad. He then visited the tomb of Bilāl-i Ḥabashī (Bilāl the Abyssinian), a famous companion of the Prophet. Finally Tīmūr went to the residence of the sultan of Egypt, the Qaṣr al-Ablaq, where he remained.113 108 109 110 111 112 113

This information is given by Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 236, who adds the names of these amirs: Nawrūz Ḥāfiẓī, Yashbak, Shadūntāz, and Shaykhī Khāṣṣakī. Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 237, tells us that Chaqmāq, who had escaped from the Mamluk army, informed the Timurids of the escape. For Shaykh Nūr al-Dīn b. Sār Būghā Jalāyir, see Ando, Timuridische Emire 111–2. On Allāhdād b. Nukūz, see ibid. 94. Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma i, 234. The name Qaṣr-i Ablaq (Qaṣr al-Ablaq), was used for various buildings, including the Great

402

bernardini

The people of Damascus were overwhelmed by anxiety and agitation and the qāḍīs, the imams, and other dignitaries came out to submit to Tīmūr with presents and gifts. They opened one of the city gates which was still closed, and agreed to pay the price of the ransom (māl-i amānī),114 but asked to defer payment by some days.115 Nevertheless the Mamluk amirs and the soldiers who were in the citadel barricaded themselves in it and performed further acts of hostility. They received the order to use “fire-arms” (raʿd),116 bows (nāvak), trebuchets (manjanīq) and balistas (ʿarrāda), and also shot various arrows from this fortified citadel, which was described by Shāmī as extremely solid and resistant because it was made of enormous stone blocks.117 Around the citadel there was a large moat thirty gaz deep, and twenty gaz wide, and it was impossible for anyone to climb over the walls. Moreover, the warriors were held back by a shower of arrows and flares containing naphta (qārūrahā-yi nafṭ).118 Finally Tīmūr gathered all his staff, whom Shāmī describes in hierarchical order: first the royal princes, his two sons Mīrānshāh and Shāh Rukh. Then

114 115

116 117

118

Mosque. Shāmī is probably referring to the palace of al-Malik al-Ẓāhir Sulṭān-i Miṣr [Baybars], who was mentioned by Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 238. The same author describes the building as standing in front of the qalʿa (citadel). On this building see Rabbat, The citadel 200, who dates the building to 1264 and describes this palace as the model of the later Qaṣr al-Ablaq built in Cairo for al-Nāṣir Muḥammad in 1313–4. Heidemann, Tīmūr’s campmint 180; and Aubin, Comment Tamerlan 96. Both authors introduced the question of the ransom in Timurid practice. Here Shāmī’s description is considerably shorter than that of Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 238–9, who introduces a date for the event: 23 Jumādā I 803/8 January 1401. Tīmūr sent various amirs to fetch the ransom: Shaykh Nūr al-Dīn, Shāh Malik, Allāhdād, together with some secretaries (bitikchiyyān), such as Khwāja Masʿūd Simnānī and Jalāl al-Islām. On this episode and the secretaries see Manz, The rise 110–1. See also Heidemann, Tīmūr’s campmint 182. Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 239 adds that the Timurids closed seven gates of the city with stones and mortar, leaving only the Bāb al-Farādīs open, there the amirs and the scribes were seated and engaged in registering the payments. The following Friday in the Great Umayyad Mosque (Masjid-i Banī Umayya) the khuṭba was delivered with the imperial names (alqāb-i Humāyūn) [of Tīmūr]. Again the use of this term is ambiguous. The meaning of raʿd is not clear: Greek fire or some rudimentary sort of bombard? Also in this case Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 239, offers further information, furnishing the name of the commander of the citadel which is omitted by Shāmī: Yazzadār Kūtval; on him see Fischel, Ibn Khaldūn and Tamerlane 63 (§ 30). Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 240 adds here a long mathnavī fragment on the weapons used. As for the qārūra, this is probably an allusion to the hand grenades which can still be seen in various museums and also reproduced in Islamic and Christian art, even though the function of these “flasks/aeolipiles” is not completely clear. On this subject see the rich bibliography offered by Fontana, An Islamic sphero-conical object 12–8.

shāmī’s description of the syrian campaign of tīmūr

403

the royal line, represented by Sulṭān Ḥusayn, Pīr Muḥammad, and Khalīl Sulṭān, all direct descendants of Tīmūr, and then candidates to his succession: Pīr Muḥammad b. Jahāngīr, Khalīl Sulṭān b. Mīrānshāh.119 Finally Shāmī mentions the great amirs, like Shaykh Nūr al-Dīn, Shāhmalik, Burundūq,120 and ʿAlī Sulṭān.121 All of them were engaged in the excavation of tunnels and the installation of the trebuchets (manjanīq). Despite the qārūrahā-yi nafṭ and stones hurled from the walls by the Mamluks, together with a shower of arrows, the nobles worked with care and, defended by the tūras, surrounded the citadel and had the chiefs excavate the tunnels. They launched great stones from the trebuchets all around the citadel; this was lethal for the people barricaded inside, and destroyed various buildings.122

8

Tīmūr, the Umayyads, and the Family of the Prophet: the Fire

Here Shāmī introduces Tīmūr’s “vision” (ṣūratī), which he described to his amirs: Since time immemorial we heard that this kingdom was for a certain period under the rule of Muʿāwiya and Yazīd. They showed from the outset hostility to the family of the house of Muṣṭafā—may He pour blessings on them!—and in particular against his son-in-law and brother ʿAlī, the Chosen, and the sons of his excellent wife Fāṭima the Shining one—the blessing of God on her! They chose to fight, kill, and capture their (descendants) and the people of Syria approved. On this subject I’m surprised by that question: how could a faction of the umma be better than the Prophet and abandon the light of His right road for the darkness of aberration? And how can they reach Islam, which is the Garden of Paradise, from hypocrisy, which is the prison of the Hell? What do I see now? In this town with great pomp for their pride and arrogance they have built soaring buildings, elevated houses, blossoming places, cheerful gardens, and palaces up to the sky. But for the blessed wives of the Prophet—pour

119 120 121 122

It is worth noting that the royal line, represented by Sulṭān Ḥusayn, Pīr Muḥammad, and Khalīl Sulṭān are excluded from Yazdī’s version: Ẓafarnāma ii, 241. Burundūq b. Jahānshāh Barlās. On him see Ando, Timuridische Emire 81–3: “Burunduq taucht Anfang 1401 bei dem Angriff auf Damaskus zum Ersten Mal auf.” On him ibid. 97. From here the version of Shāmī varies greatly from Yazdī’s text, in which the passages are arranged in a different sequence.

404

bernardini

blessings on him!—who remain here, no one took any care according to the rules of the muruvvat123 and the human faith, and no one built a holy sanctuary for them with four walls around it. Where are the buildings for them?124 Then Tīmūr ordered that two domed buildings be raised on these two tombs: the princes Abū Bakr, Khalīl Sulṭān, and the amirs Shaykh Nūr al-Dīn, ʿAlī Sulṭān, and Manglī Khwāja were charged with this task.125 In twenty-five days two tall domes made of white stone were erected over the tombs. In this period the qāḍīs and the imams of the town insisted that they were unable to collect the ransom; some amirs were nominated for the collection, the task being assigned to Shaykh Nūr al-Dīn and Shāhmalik, who entered the town. In the meantime Tīmūr asked that the whole area around the Great Umayyad mosque be spared from any damage and he charged some soldiers with the preservation and surveillance of the building. Nevertheless, a fire was suddenly, unexpectedly, and involuntarily (bī khabar va-ikhtiyār) lit by some unspecified people. As in the past, when one or two times a year there was a fire in Damascus,126 the qāḍīs and the dignitaries of the town, with thousands of stratagems, were unable to extinguish the fire. The same soldiers of the Timurid army were unable to do that and in a few days the fire spread through the city because all the houses were built of stone on the first floor, but the other floors, the third, fourth, or fifth were made of wood. It was during the fire that Tīmūr ordered his men to set fire to the tunnels excavated under the towers. Sulṭān Ḥusayn and Altūn Bakhshī127 executed the order and their sappers (ʿamala) crushed the western tower of the citadel, which was the largest one. Finally, a great breach was opened in the wall and the army prepared to enter. In the meantime a large portion of the walls collapsed and a great dust cloud spread over the area. The aggressors were obliged to stop and the defenders took the opportunity to repair this hole in the walls. Nevertheless, “fear and terror gripped their hearts,” and they were unable to act and

123 124

125 126 127

Muruvvat (“virility, fortitude”) and its lack was frequently used in the polemics against Tīmūr, for example by Burhān al-Dīn of Sivas (see Astarābādī, Bazm u Razm 451). Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma i, 235–6. This passage was inserted later by Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 244 who changed the structure of the history, separating the episode of the construction of the mausoleums from the exposition of the Umayyad history. This person was not identified. Vigouroux, La Mosquée des Omeyyades, made an extensive analysis of the fire in the Great Mosque. On him see Ando, Timuridische Emire 72.

shāmī’s description of the syrian campaign of tīmūr

405

launch a counter offensive. At this moment Tīmūr ordered his men to set fire to all the other tunnels and they destroyed a large part of the walls. The Mamluk amirs, together with the dignitaries barricaded in the citadel, surrendered and opened a gate and handed over the keys. An order was given to divide the soldiers and distribute them as slaves between the officers. The booty taken in the citadel was huge and included the goods taken from the caravans and those people that the Mamluks had taken in the past and held as captives. All these riches were gathered in the dīvān-i ʿālī.128 An order was given that the prisoners be divided by social and ethnic categories: this was done for the artisans (arbāb-i ḥiraf ), and the craftsmen (pīshavarān);129 for the Turkish, Abyssinian, and Indian slaves (ghulāmān-i turk va-ḥabashī va-hindī),130 and the rest of the population who were enslaved.131 Fire was lit in the remaining tunnels and the citadel completely collapsed.

9

The End of the Campaign

With Damascus burned down, a number of people fled to the desert; at the end of the month of Rajab 803/March 1401, the army finished plundering the town, though Shāmī adds that Tīmūr ordered clemency to avoid troubling the population. At the beginning of the month of Shaʿbān 803/second half of March 1401,132 the army moved toward the town of Qāra, north of Damas-

128

129 130 131

132

Here Shāmī does not mention the episode of a certain Harī Mulk who was arrested and beaten because he embezzled some barley without the permission of Tīmūr. This barley was sold for three dinars kabakī every man and the gain was given in homage to “our God” (taslīm-i Khudām) and sent to al-Quds (Jerusalem): Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 242. Among them Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 242, mentions the physicians (aṭibbāʾ) Mawlānā Jalāl al-Dīn Muḥammad and Mawlānā Sulaymān. Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 242, offers a slightly different picture, including the Circassians and the Blacks (zangī). Here Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 242, adds that Tīmūr moved from the Qaṣr al-Ablaq, to the ‫( خانه متخاس‬or ‫ )تبخاس‬according to the Muḥammad ʿAbbāsī edition, ‫ خانٔە ب ُتخاس‬if we use Urunboev edition, 788 (384b). This was the house of one of the main amirs of the town. Cf. Fischel, Ibn Khaldūn and Tamerlane 66 (§35): “Batkhāṣ.” The “great amir mentioned” was probably Sayf al-Dīn Batkhāṣ; today his mausoleum exists in Damascus. In Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 242–3, this passage precedes the long digression on coinage that attracted the interest of Heidemann, Tīmūr’s campint 190–2, together with the new lecture of Mignanelli evidenced by Helmy, Tra Siena Oriente e la Curia 165–72. It is worth noting that this aspect was completely neglected by Shāmī. Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 249, mentions 4 Shaʿbān [803]/19 March 1401 as the date of the departure of Timurid army.

406

bernardini

cus.133 They crossed Homs, where Tīmūr ordered the princes Sulṭān Ḥusayn and Khalīl Sulṭān to raid (īlghār) ʿAntāb again. The amirs Burundūq, ʿAlī Sulṭān, Dawlat Tīmūr,134 and Tavakkul Qarqarā,135 with a great army behind them, met some Turkmens who tried to oppose them but were routed.136 The Turkmens left behind all their property, including horses, mules, camels, cows, and rams. Finally this army joined the main army on the shores of the Euphrates.137 When Tīmūr reached Hama, some people showed hostility toward the army. They destroyed the buildings erected as habitations [by the Timurids] and Tīmūr ordered that the town be burned and the entire population be enslaved. All their goods were taken and then the army moved toward Aleppo. The amirs in the citadel hastened to pay homage to Tīmūr. Again they destroyed parts of the town and then they moved toward the Euphrates, which they crossed and then they reached the citadel of al-Bīra (actual Birecik). The local lord (amīr-i ānjā) welcomed them with presents. Tīmūr showed a royal magnanimity (ʿāṭifat-i pādshāhāna) to him and spared all the people of the town. The army spent some time on a great hunt (narga-yi ʿaẓīm). Then they reached Rūhā (Urfa/Edessa), where they were welcomed by the dignitaries of the town, who were spared like the rest of the population. From there they reached various Armenian castles and Tīmūr ordered that “the countries of Islam be purified of their corrupted bodies.” All their property was plundered.138 Shāmī considers this episode the conclusion of the Syrian campaign.

133 134 135 136

137

138

Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 250: Tīmūr reached Qāra from the Ghūṭa where the army was encamped. On Dawlat Tīmūr Suldūz, see Ando, Timuridische Emire 116. We know him as a participant of the Indian campaign: Ghiyāth al-Dīn Yazdī, Saʿādat-nāma 98. The name in this source is Qarqara (‫)قرقره‬. Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 250–1, makes explicit reference to the Dhulqadirids of the town of Tadmīr (Tadmur, the ancient Palmyra); they escaped into the desert. Other soldiers of his army reached Antakya (Antioch on the Orontes); Yinanç, Dulkadir Beyliği 35. Here Yazdī’s version (Ẓafarnāma ii, 243) differs completely from that of Shāmī, Yazdī refers to an incursion of the amirs Sulaymānshāh and Jahānshāh toward the Sāḥil-i Ifranj (the “Frankish Coast”), i.e., the Mediterranean and in particular the town of Acre. They “returned” to Kanʿān after having taken a large booty. There Tīmūr was gravely infirm and for this reason all the princes were summoned by a certain Arātimur, but when they arrived at his tent, Tīmūr was healed. Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma i, 237.

shāmī’s description of the syrian campaign of tīmūr

407

Bibliography Primary Sources ʿĀşıḳ Pāşā-Zāde, Osmanoğulları’nın Tarihi, ed. K. Yavus and M.A. Yekta Saraç, Istanbul 2003. Astarābādī, Bazm u Razm, ed. K. Rifat Beğ, Istanbul 1928. Ibn ʿArabshāh, ʿAjāʾib al-maqdūr fī nawāʾib Tīmūr, ed. A.F. al-Ḥimṣī, Beirut 1407/1986. Khunjī Iṣfahānī, Tārīkh-i ʿālam-ārā-yi amīnī, ed. J.E. Woods, London 1992. Khwāndamīr, Tārīkh-i Ḥabīb al-siyar, ed. J. al-D. Humāʾī, 4 vols., Tehran 1333 Sh/1954. Mignanelli, Beltramo, Ascensus Barcoch and De ruina Damasci, ed. N.M. Helmy, Tra Siena, l’Oriente e la Curia: Beltramo di Leonardo Mignanelli e le sue opere, Rome 2013. Mīrkhwānd, Tārīkh-i Rawżat al-ṣafā, ed. ʿA. Parvīz, 10 vols., Tehran 1339 Sh/1960. Naṭanzī, Muntakhab-i tavārīkh-i Muʿīnī, ed. J. Aubin, Tehran 1336 Sh/1957. Oruç Beğ, Oruç Beğ Tarihi (Osmanlı Tarihi, 1288–1502), ed. N. Öztürk, Istanbul 2007. Samarqandī, Maṭlaʿ-i saʿdayn va-majmaʿ-i baḥrayn, ed. ʿA. al-Ḥ. Navāʾī, 2 vols., Tehran 1383 Sh/2004. Shāmī, Ẓafarnāma par Niẓāmuddīn Šāmī, avec les additions empruntées au Zubdatu-ttawārīḫ-i Baysunġūrī de Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, ed. F. Tauer, 2 vols., Prague 1937–56. Ṭihrānī, Kitāb-i Diyārbakriyye, ed. N. Lugal and F. Sümer, 2 vols., Ankara 1962–4. Yazdī, Ghiyāth al-Dīn, Saʿādat-nāma yā Rūz-nāma-yi ghazavāt-i Hindūstān, ed. Ī. Afshār, Tehran 1379 Sh/2001. Yazdī, Sharaf al-Dīn, Ẓafarnāma, ed. M. ʿAbbāsī, 2 vols., Tehran 1336 Sh/1958. Yazdī, Sharaf al-Dīn, Ẓafarnāma, ed. A. Urunboev, Tashkent 1972.

Secondary Sources Aigle, D., Les transformations d’un mythe d’origine. L’exemple de Gengis Khan et de Tamerlan, in REMMM 89–90 (2000), 151–68. Alexandrescu-Dersca, M.M., La Campagne de Timur en Anatolie (1402), Bucharest 1942. Ando, S., Timuridische Emire nach dem Mu‘izz al-ansāb. Untersuchung zur Stammenaristokratie Zentralasiens im 14. und 15. Jahrhundert, Berlin 1992. Aubin, J., Comment Tamerlan prenait les villes, in SI XIX (1963), 83–122. Aubin, J., L’Ethnogenèse des Qaraunas, in Turcica I (1969), 65–94. Aubin, J., Le Khanat de Čagataï et le Khorassan, in Turcica VIII (1979), 16–60. Bernardini, M., Aspects littéraires et idéologiques des relations entre aristocratie et architecture à l’époque timouride, in L. Golombek and M. Subtelny (eds.), Timurid art and architecture: Iran and Central Asia in the fifteenth century, Leiden, New York, and Cologne 1992, 36–43. Bernardini, M., Mémoire et propagande à l’époque timouride, Paris 2008. Bernardini, M., The army of Timur during the battle of Ankara, in K. Franz and W. Holz-

408

bernardini

warth (eds.), Nomad military power in Iran and adjacent areas in the Islamic period, Wiesbaden 2015, 209–32. Binbaş, İ.E., Intellectual networks in Timurid Iran: Sharaf al-Dīn ‘Alī and the Islamicate Republic of Letters, Cambridge 2016. Boyle, J.A. (ed.), The Cambridge history of Iran, vol. V: The Saljuq and Mongol periods, Cambridge 1968. Broadbridge, A.F., Kingship and ideology in the Islamic and Mongol worlds, Cambridge 2008. Broadbridge, A.F., Spy or rebel? The curious incident of the Temürid Sulṭān-Ḥusayn’s defection to the Mamluks at Damascus in 803/1400–1, in MSR 14 (2010), 29–42. Doerfer, G., Türkische und mongolische Elemente im Neupersischen, 4 vols., Wiesbaden 1963–75. Fischel, W., A new Latin source on Tamerlane’s conquest of Damascus (1400/1401), in Oriens IX/2 (1956), 201–32. Fischel, W., Ibn Khaldūn and Tamerlane: Their historical meeting in Damascus, 1401A.D. (803A.H.), Berkeley and Los Angeles 1952. Fontana, M.V., An Islamic sphero-conical object in a Tuscan medieval marble, in East and West 49/1–4 (1999), 9–33. Heidemann, S., Tīmūr’s campmint during the siege of Damascus in 803/1401, in R. Gyselen and M. Szuppe (eds.), Matériaux pour l’histoire économique du monde iranien, Paris 1999, 179–206. Helmy, N.M., Tra Siena, l’Oriente e la Curia: Beltramo di Leonardo Mignanelli e le sue opere, Rome 2013. Le Strange, G., Palestine under the Moslems, London 1890. Maḥjūb, M.J., Sabk-i khurāsānī dar shiʿr fārsī, Tehran 1345 Sh/1966. Manz, B.F., Tamerlane’s career and its uses, in Journal of World History 13/1 (2002), 1–25. Manz, B.F., The rise and rule of Tamerlane, Cambridge 1989. Mayer, L.A., Saracenic heraldry, Oxford 1933, repr. 21999. McChesney, R., The life and works of Ibn ‘Arabshāh, in J. Pfeiffer and Sh.A. Quinn (eds.), History and historiography of post-Mongol central Asia and the Middle East: Studies in honor of John E. Woods, Wiesbaden 2006, 205–48. Mustafayev, Sh., Between nomadism and centralization: The Ottoman alternative in the history of the Aqqoyunlu state, in J. Paul (ed.), Nomad aristocrats in a world of empires, Wiesbaden 2013, 143–59. Rabbat, N.O., The citadel of Cairo: A new interpretation of royal Mamluk architecture, Leiden 1995. Sinclair, T.A., Eastern Turkey: An architectural and archaeological survey, 4 vols., London 1990. Togan, Z.V., Timurs Osteuropapolitik, in ZDMG CVIII/33 (1958), 279–97. Uzunçarşılı, İ.H., Osmanlı Tarihi, 8 vols., Ankara 1982–4.

shāmī’s description of the syrian campaign of tīmūr

409

Vigouroux, É., La Mosquée des Omeyyades de Damas après Tamerlan, in BÉO LXI/2 (2012), 123–59. Woods, J.E., The Aqquyunlu: Clan, confederation, empire, Salt Lake City 21999. Woods, J.E., The rise of Tīmūrid historiography, in JNES 46 (1987), 81–108. Woods, J.E., Timur’s genealogy, in M.M. Mazzaoui and V. Basch Moreen (eds.), Intellectual studies in Islam: essays written in honor of Martin Dickson, Salt Lake City 1990, 85–125. Yerasimos, S., La Fondation de Constantinople et de Sainte-Sophie dans les traditions turques, Paris 1990. Yinanç, R., Dulkadir Beyliği, Ankara 1989. Yücel, Y., Kadı Burhaneddin Ahmed ve Devleti (1344–1398), in Dil ve Tarih-Coğrafya Fakültesi Yayınları 201 (1970), 92–103. Yücel, Y., Timur’un Ortadoğu-Anadolu Seferleri ve Sonuçları (1393–1402), Ankara 1989.

chapter 12

Diplomatic Entanglements between Tabriz, Cairo, and Herat: a Reconstructed Qara Qoyunlu Letter Datable to 818/1415 Frédéric Bauden

1

Introduction1

In 2004, I drew attention to an uncommon and previously unknown repository of Mamluk chancery documents. In an unpublished and rather unique holograph manuscript of al-Maqrīzī I identified in the holdings of the University of Liège, on several leaves, much to my surprise, I recognized the large idiosyncratic handwriting usually found on Mamluk chancery documents. I soon realized that these leaves related to several documents originally in a scroll form that were later cut into pieces and transformed into quires. In this way, they were reused, and al-Maqrīzī availed himself of this discarded paper. What stirred my imagination at that time was the question of the reconstruction of the original documents. I was interested in reconstructing the original documents—at least in part, and dating them. Thanks to the rules of diplomatics as explained by various Mamluk authors, based on the external and internal characteristics of documents and on their physical features (paper, handwriting, ink, interlinear space), I was indeed able to classify the fragments identified in the Liège notebook into five groups, with each group representing one document. Among these, three in particular seemed to be linked to the same historical event. Thanks to the appearance of a personal name in two fragments that belonged to two different documents, and of the laqab of a sultan, I identified the nature of the documents (manshūr iqṭāʿī, i.e., land grant) and dated them precisely to the year 744/1344.2

1 This article owes much to two persons to whom it is a real pleasure for me to express my deepest gratitude: John Woods and Kazuo Morimoto. Not only did they both read a draft of it and comment heavily upon it, but they also greatly contributed to a redefinition of my interpretation of the Timurid sources. Obviously, I alone am responsible for any mistake it might still contain. 2 Bauden, The recovery.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2019 | doi:10.1163/9789004384637_013

diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat

411

Since 2004, the project has been extended to all of al-Maqrīzī’s other holograph manuscripts identified so far; this amounts to twenty-five manuscripts. Among the slightly more than 5,000 leaves, about 12 percent (616) were recognizable as scrap paper bearing inscriptions (see table 12.1). It is noteworthy that the most signicant part of this reused paper is to be found in manuscripts corresponding to drafts, resumés, and notebooks.3 Whenever they are found in manuscripts representing fair copies, it is always for additions made by alMaqrīzī at a later date. From this observation, I can infer that al-Maqrīzī mainly reserved this kind of paper for manuscripts that were meant to be used only temporarily; for him, it was merely scrap paper. Obviously, not all of these fragments are interesting from the historian’s point of view. If the most meaningful parts of the documents are missing in the manuscripts, clearly they cannot be identified and dated.

2

Fragments of a Qara Qoyunlu Letter

The document at the core of the present study was identified in two volumes of al-Maqrīzī’s al-Taʾrīkh al-kabīr al-muqaffā (usually abridged as al-Muqaffā), a biographical dictionary devoted to the Egyptians or those who lived in or passed through Egypt, mainly in the Islamic period. Of this uncompleted project, which nevertheless reached sixteen of the eighty volumes al-Maqrīzī had planned to write, five holograph volumes have been preserved and are distributed between the University of Leiden, who took the lion’s share with four volumes (MSS Or. 1366a, 1366c, 3075, 14533), and the Bibliothèque nationale de France in Paris (MS Arabe 2144).4 The fourteen fragments of the Qara Qoyunlu letter were evenly distributed in two of the volumes now in Leiden, respectively MS Or. 1366c, fols. 15b, 16a, 25a, 26b, 27b, 29b, 37b, and MS Or. 14533, fols. 331b, 332b, 371b, 372b, 373b, 388b, 389a. Given that MS Or. 1366c contains in all nine fragments of reused documents, the seven fragments belonging to the Qara Qoyunlu letter thus constitute the majority of these, while in the case of MS Or. 14533, they represent a smaller part of the whole fragments reused (7 of 25).5

3 Four manuscripts corresponding to that description total 527 fragments, i.e. 85 percent. 4 For a thorough study of the work and its manuscripts, see Bauden, Maqriziana X. 5 But we must account for the fact that the manuscript in question contains twice the number of leaves in comparison with the other volumes of al-Muqaffā.

412

bauden

table 12.1 List of al-Maqrīzī’s holograph manuscripts with indication of reused documents No.

City

Library

Shelf mark

Title

No. of lvs.a

1

Alexandria

Bibliotheca Alexandrina

Notebook

52 (0)

2

Ann Arbor

al-Mawāʿiẓ wa-l-iʿtibār (vol. 3)

261 (0)

3

Calcutta

University of Michigan, Special Collections Library Asiatic Society

Tārīkh 2125/d ISL. 605

131 (?)

4 5

Damascus Dushanbe

6

Gotha

Ar. 1771

185 (3)

7

Gotha

Ar. 1652

Ittiʿāẓ al-ḥunafāʾ

58 (0)

8

Istanbul

Maktabat al-Asad Kitobhona-i milli-i Todjikiston Forschungs- und Landesbibliothek Forschungs- und Landesbibliothek Süleymaniye Kütüphanesi

Mukhtaṣar Qiyām al-layl waQiyām Ramaḍān wa-Kitāb al-Witr lil-Marwazī Notebook Mukhtār Durrat al-aslāk fī dawlat al-Atrāk li-Ibn Ḥabīb Durar al-ʿuqūd al-farīda

al-Khabar ʿan al-bashar (vol. 1)

245 (2)

9 10 11 12 13

Istanbul Istanbul Istanbul Istanbul Istanbul

Süleymaniye Kütüphanesi Süleymaniye Kütüphanesi Süleymaniye Kütüphanesi Süleymaniye Kütüphanesi Süleymaniye Kütüphanesi

al-Khabar ʿan al-bashar (vol. 3) al-Khabar ʿan al-bashar (vol. 4) al-Khabar ʿan al-bashar (vol. 5) al-Khabar ʿan al-bashar (vol. 6) Imtāʿ al-asmāʿ (vol. 1)

254 (0) 163 (0) 265 (15) 276 (0) 211 (2)

14

Istanbul

Süleymaniye Kütüphanesi

al-Sulūk (vol. 1)

257 (0)

15 16

Istanbul Istanbul

Mukhtaṣar al-Kāmil li-Ibn ʿAdī al-Mawāʿiẓ wa-l-iʿtibār (vol. 1)

215 (0) 179 (158)

17

Istanbul

Murat Molla Kütüphanesi Topkapı Sarayı Müzesi Kütüphanesi Topkapı Sarayı Müzesi Kütüphanesi

al-Mawāʿiẓ wa-l-iʿtibār (vol. 2)

182 (177)

19 20 21 22 23 24 25

Leiden Leiden Leiden Leiden Leiden Liège Paris

Aya Sofya 3362 Fatih 4338 Fatih 4339 Fatih 4340 Fatih 4341 Şehit Ali P. 1847 Yeni Cami 887 575 Hazine 1472 Emanet Hazinesi 1405 Or. 1366a Or. 1366b Or. 3075 Or. 14533 Or. 560 2232 Arabe 2144

al-Muqaffā al-Muqaffā al-Muqaffā al-Muqaffā Collection of opuscules Notebook al-Muqaffā

226 (9) 287 (5) 252 (12) 550 (25) 214 (0) 209 (85) 260 (14)

Total

Universiteitsbibliotheek Universiteitsbibliotheek Universiteitsbibliotheek Universiteitsbibliotheek Universiteitsbibliotheek Bibliothèque universitaire Bibliothèque nationale

I 774

4805 1790

80 (2) 179 (107)

5191 (616) a The number in parentheses refers to the number of leaves corresponding to reused documents.

‫‪413‬‬

‫‪diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat‬‬

‫‪80‬‬

‫‪85–63‬‬

‫‪Line‬‬ ‫‪space‬‬

‫‪65‬‬

‫‪75‬‬

‫‪50‬‬

‫‪79‬‬

‫‪65‬‬

‫‪end‬‬

‫‪50‬‬

‫‪75‬‬

‫‪34‬‬

‫‪65‬‬

‫‪68‬‬

‫‪beg.‬‬

‫‪Low. edge‬‬

‫‪67‬‬

‫‪40‬‬

‫‪0‬‬

‫‪50‬‬

‫‪40‬‬

‫‪end‬‬

‫‪80‬‬

‫‪63‬‬

‫‪32‬‬

‫‪43‬‬

‫‪43‬‬

‫‪35‬‬

‫‪37‬‬

‫‪5‬‬

‫‪65‬‬

‫‪45‬‬

‫‪38‬‬

‫‪65‬‬

‫‪beg.‬‬

‫‪Up. edge‬‬

‫‪Marg.‬‬

‫‪181‬‬

‫‪185‬‬

‫‪183‬‬

‫‪184‬‬

‫‪173‬‬

‫‪W.‬‬

‫‪147‬‬

‫‪147‬‬

‫‪149‬‬

‫‪141‬‬

‫‪141‬‬

‫‪H.‬‬

‫علي ْنا بانواع الافضال والأنعام والاجلال والاكرام‬

‫حبو]ة؟ …[ ‪ِ[…] . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .‬ـين ]…[ـحرى‬

‫بادرنا اليه بالتبجيل والت ّعظيم وقلُنا ﴿أن ّي القي اليّ كتاب كر يم﴾‬

‫صايبة عن شوايب الـك ُدورات‬ ‫صادرة عن فرط الأشواق ٱل ّ‬ ‫ال ّ‬

‫وقايلناه باتحاف الادعية الوافرة والاثنية المتكا ثرة‬

‫امير تيمور وهو سعد وقاّ س ووفد به علينا منبيّ ا باذيال‬

‫‪. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .‬ـكـ‪. .. .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .‬الـ‪. . . . . . .‬‬

‫صيف الاتاق‬ ‫الر بّ يع انشا الل ّه ُتعالى نهضنا بعساكرنا الى م ِ‬

‫‪Text‬‬

‫‪26‬‬

‫‪27‬‬

‫‪25‬‬

‫‪16‬‬

‫‪15‬‬

‫‪Fol.‬‬

‫‪1366c‬‬

‫‪1366c‬‬

‫‪1366c‬‬

‫‪1366c‬‬

‫‪1366c‬‬

‫‪MS‬‬

‫)‪table 12.2 List of the inscriptions with indication of the measures (mm‬‬

‫‪414‬‬ ‫‪bauden‬‬

‫‪81–77‬‬

‫‪85–75‬‬

‫‪?–78‬‬

‫‪73–70‬‬

‫‪Line‬‬ ‫‪space‬‬

‫‪10‬‬

‫‪45‬‬

‫‪78‬‬

‫‪80‬‬

‫‪30‬‬

‫‪end‬‬

‫‪0‬‬

‫‪15‬‬

‫‪72‬‬

‫‪65‬‬

‫‪13‬‬

‫‪beg.‬‬

‫‪Low. edge‬‬

‫‪39‬‬

‫‪12‬‬

‫‪63‬‬

‫‪40‬‬

‫‪20‬‬

‫‪end‬‬

‫‪55‬‬

‫‪37‬‬

‫‪45‬‬

‫‪43‬‬

‫‪43‬‬

‫‪45‬‬

‫‪50‬‬

‫‪85‬‬

‫‪72‬‬

‫‪41‬‬

‫‪38‬‬

‫‪43‬‬

‫‪40‬‬

‫‪beg.‬‬

‫‪Up. edge‬‬

‫‪Marg.‬‬

‫‪170‬‬

‫‪172‬‬

‫‪172‬‬

‫‪180‬‬

‫‪179‬‬

‫‪W.‬‬

‫‪165‬‬

‫‪162‬‬

‫‪163‬‬

‫‪149‬‬

‫‪141‬‬

‫‪H.‬‬

‫صلة في مفاوضت ِه‬ ‫واستيلايه ثانيا على البلاد المف ّ‬

‫سَارة الم ُنبات عن دفع مخالفيه‬ ‫من الاخبار ال ّ‬

‫والاكرام اتاني كتاب لا اراه مشابه ًا بغير كتاب الل ّٰه من سا ير الـكتب‬

‫ثمار الاعتضاد من الفاظه ومعانيه تلقيناه بالقبول‬

‫‪. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .‬ات‬

‫ساعات‬ ‫على عداته في اعز الأْوقات واشرف ال ّ‬

‫صو ْرة‬ ‫كان قد تمر ّد علينا وحين توجهنا بعساكرنا المظفرة المن ُ‬

‫من جانب سلاطين ديار بركة خان انار الل ّٰه برهانه رسل ورسايل‬

‫ضا قد وفد علينا‬ ‫سلـكه واي ً‬ ‫باْرسال الر ّ ُسل سالك ًا م ْ‬

‫‪Text‬‬

‫‪371‬‬

‫‪332‬‬

‫‪331‬‬

‫‪37‬‬

‫‪29‬‬

‫‪Fol.‬‬

‫‪14533‬‬

‫‪14533‬‬

‫‪14533‬‬

‫‪1366c‬‬

‫‪1366c‬‬

‫‪MS‬‬

‫)‪Table 12.2 List of the inscriptions with indication of the measures (cont.‬‬

‫‪415‬‬

‫‪diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat‬‬

‫‪82–82‬‬

‫‪85–85‬‬

‫‪?–82‬‬

‫‪Line‬‬ ‫‪space‬‬

‫‪82‬‬

‫‪35‬‬

‫‪82‬‬

‫‪64‬‬

‫‪end‬‬

‫‪82‬‬

‫‪18‬‬

‫‪75‬‬

‫‪37‬‬

‫‪beg.‬‬

‫‪Low. edge‬‬

‫‪56‬‬

‫‪16‬‬

‫‪34‬‬

‫‪62‬‬

‫‪end‬‬

‫‪59‬‬

‫‪34‬‬

‫‪40‬‬

‫‪44‬‬

‫‪48‬‬

‫‪48‬‬

‫‪59‬‬

‫‪85‬‬

‫‪35‬‬

‫‪beg.‬‬

‫‪Up. edge‬‬

‫‪Marg.‬‬

‫‪169‬‬

‫‪169‬‬

‫‪183‬‬

‫‪180‬‬

‫‪W.‬‬

‫‪158‬‬

‫‪160‬‬

‫‪148‬‬

‫‪133‬‬

‫‪H.‬‬

‫‪. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .‬ن ُصرته‬

‫ل يوم سعادة الملُك‬ ‫جّدد الل ّه ُتعاَ لى ك ّ‬

‫ف الغ ُزاة والمجُاهدي ْن قامُع الـكفرة والم ُتمر ّدين‬ ‫كه ُ‬

‫ضد الملةّ ظهير الامُ ّة‬ ‫يع ُ‬ ‫ي الظهير ّ‬ ‫المجُاهد ّ‬

‫‪. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .‬ان ى‬

‫جندنا له ُم الغالبوُ ن﴾‬ ‫و بلدانها الى اصفهان وخ ُراسان ﴿وان ُ‬

‫عالى جنابه لا زالت شموس دولته طالعة من افق الدوام‬

‫‪Text‬‬

‫‪389‬‬

‫‪388‬‬

‫‪373‬‬

‫‪372‬‬

‫‪Fol.‬‬

‫‪14533‬‬

‫‪14533‬‬

‫‪14533‬‬

‫‪14533‬‬

‫‪MS‬‬

‫)‪Table 12.2 List of the inscriptions with indication of the measures (cont.‬‬

416

figure 12.1

bauden

The structure of the paper with indication of the chain and laid lines Leiden, Universiteitsbibliotheek, MS Or. 14533, fol. 388b

The fourteen leaves were singled out as being part of the same document on the basis of several external and internal characteristics that they all share. The paper, in comparison with the material used by al-Maqrīzī for the majority of the volumes of al-Muqaffā, is thinner with a rather rough surface that indicates that it was poorly polished, if indeed it was ever polished. Moreover, the structure of the paper shows that the chain lines are grouped in threes, the distance between two chain lines being 18mm and between two groups 52 mm, with 20 laid lines occupying a space of 24 to 26mm (see fig. 12.1).6 In this respect,

6 For this structure, see Humbert, Papiers non filigranés, 21–2, 33–8 (table IV). This type, which features in 37 percent of Humbert’s corpus, can be regarded as one of the most widespread types in Oriental manuscripts produced between 1058 and 1448. The latter date corresponds to the terminus Humbert selected for her analysis and not to the end of the production of this kind of paper. It is worth mentioning that the figures mentioned for the space between chain lines and groups for the paper analyzed here do not fit with the measures provided by Humbert: some papers produced in the first half of the ninth/fifteenth century, when our document was issued, do present groups of chain lines occupying 52 mm or more, but the distance between individual lines is much smaller than what is found here (between 7 and 16 mm). It must be noted that the difference in the color of the paper of the fragments that can be noted between those from MSS Or. 1366c and Or.

diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat

figure 12.2

417

Two ḍammas (left: MS Or. 14533, fol. 388b; right: MS Or. 1366c, fol. 37b)

it completely differs from the kind of paper al-Maqrīzī used for most of his manuscripts of fair copies.7 The ink is another feature that all the fragments of one document have in common: it is dark brown, sometimes turning lighter where the ink fades away, typically when the qalam runs dry. The script may be characterized as taʿlīq, as it is described by al-Qalqashandī (d. 821/1418)8 and alṬayyibī (d. after 908/1503).9 Most of the alif s and other letters with a shaft (ṭāʾ, lām, etc.) have a head-serif10 to the right, except for the second alif in the aliflām-alif group where it is to the left (see fig. 12.6). Some ligatures between nonjoining letters may be observed with, in one case, an ʿayn muʾallafa (fig. 12.10: al-sāʿāt) as described by al-Qalqashandī.11 The orthoepic signs (ḍamma, fatḥa, kasra, sukūn, shadda) were quite often added by the scribe and offer another link between each fragment; this is particularly true of the way the ḍamma is written, always with an open counter and a rather elongated oblique stroke (see fig. 12.2). The kasra, on the other hand, takes the shape of a vertical stroke (see figs. 12.4 and 12.7) or is slightly inclined to the left (see fig. 12.12). In addition to these concomitant elements, we must stress that the majority of these fragments are side-by-side in the quire in both manuscripts. Given

7 8 9 10 11

14533 in the reproductions at the end of this study is attributable to circumstances linked to the exposition lighting used to digitize the manuscripts, as this was done at different times. The paper al-Maqrīzī used to produce fair copies of his works has chain lines grouped by twos. See Bauden, al-Maqrīzī’s collection, chap. 4. See al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā iii, 104–18. Al-Ṭayyibī, Jāmiʿ maḥāsin, ed. al-Munajjid, plates 43–6; ed. al-Māniʿ, 76 and plates 22a– 23b. For the head-serif, see Gacek, Arabic Manuscripts 122–3. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā iii, 112; Gacek, Arabic Manuscripts 318, no. 26 (where it is labeled fakk al-asad, the lion’s jaw).

418

bauden

that al-Maqrīzī took advantage of this kind of reused paper to add material to a manuscript he had already produced a fair copy of,12 it makes sense that he exploited fragments that stemmed from the same document. In most cases, the fragments are only composed of one leaf. However, in one case, where the addition was substantial, he used a longer fragment folded in two (bifolio) and he inserted another fragment in its middle, thus creating a small quire. The bifolio presenting a larger fragment (see fig. 12.6) indicates that the original document had been cut into fragments large enough to form such bifolios in order to produce quires. In his notebooks and drafts, al-Maqrīzī made use of those fragments as quires,13 but in other cases, like here for additions to a fair copy, he adapted them according to his needs, cutting a bifolio into two parts. This is why most of the fragments belonging to the Qara Qoyunlu letter are single leaves and not more bifolios. The full bifolio is useful to understand the measures of the blank spaces (interlinear, marginal, and top and bottom of the document) the secretary used, as these measures would be in accordance with his chancery rules. These measures provide a further corroborating element that helps to prove that they all come from the same document. The most significant measures to consider are the following (see fig. 12.3): the height (H) refers to the vertical side of the leaf when the inscription is placed horizontally, i.e., as it was displayed in the original document, while the width (W) applies to the horizontal side. The margin (Marg.) corresponds to the blank space to the right of the inscription. The upper and lower edges are the blank space situated respectively above and below the inscription. Whenever two lines of inscriptions are found on a single leaf, the line spacing is measured at the beginning and the end of the inscriptions. Table 12.2 shows that the height of the fragments is included between 133 and 165 mm while the width oscillates between 169 and 185mm. These slight differences can be explained by the fact that the fragments were problably cut twice: the first time when they were transformed into bifolia to create quires that were trimmed, the second time when al-Maqrīzī separated the bifolia to create two single leaves. The differences noted in the size of the right margin (from 32 to 50 mm) can also be explained in that way. Nevertheless, in this case, the maximum (50 mm) is a good indication of what that margin was in the document before its reuse. The measure that most strongly supports the hypothesis that all these fragments belong to the same document concerns the line spacing, i.e., the interlinear space left blank between two lines of text. In some cases, two lines of text have

12 13

For the status of al-Muqaffā from this point of view, see Bauden, Maqriziana X. For this see Bauden, The recovery 75 and note 55.

diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat

figure 12.3

419

Indication of the significant measures to be considered Leiden, Universiteitsbibliotheek, MS 14533, fol. 332b

been preserved on one fragment; this enables us to measure that space with precision. The distance is taken from the baseline at the beginning and the end of the inscription to the baseline of the next inscription. The space above and below each inscription must also be taken into consideration for the reordering of the fragments.14 Whenever two inscriptions appear on the same fragment (in

14

See Bauden, The recovery 62. In table 12.2, these measures appear in the columns regarding the upper edge, i.e., the space above the inscription, taken from the baseline to the top of the leaf at two points (beginning and end of the inscription), and the lower edge according to the same system, but from the baseline to the bottom of the leaf. In the case of the end of the inscription, it is well known that the practice was to write the end of the line at a higher point than the beginning of the line, with the last word sometimes written above the baseline. Thus the line spacing at the end of two lines is usually narrower than at the beginning (the scribes did not use a ruler to measure these spaces).

420

bauden

nine cases), the line spacing at the beginning of the inscriptions is included, between 73 and 85mm, with the majority situated between 80 and 85 mm. The fourteen fragments contain twenty-four lines of an Arabic text, of which nineteen are fully legible,15 and the contents of several parts of the inscriptions are congruous. If the date of the document and the name of the ruler in whose name it was issued are unfortunately missing, two lines are sufficient to replace this information. In the first inscription (fol. 15b), the issuer indicates that next spring he will move with his army to the summer pastures (al-rabīʿ in shāʾa llāh taʿālā nahaḍnā bi-ʿasākirinā ilā maṣīf al-utāq); this very helpful detail indicates that the issuer practised transhumance. If we consider that the document was contemporary with al-Maqrīzī, this restricts the possibilities to the Timurids, the Qara Qoyunlu, and the Aq Qoyunlu.16 The second suggestive line (fol. 16a) mentions one of Tīmūr’s relatives, a certain Saʿd-i Vaqqāṣ, who came to the issuer’s court (Amīr Tīmūr wa-huwa Saʿd Waqqās wa-qad wafada bi-hi ʿalaynā munabbiʾan bi-adhyāl). As I establish below, Saʿd-i Vaqqāṣ was one of Tīmūr’s great-grandsons, who defected to the Qara Qoyunlu ruler, Qarā Yūsuf (r. ca. 792– 823/ca. 1390–1420), in 818/1415, much to the despair of his uncle, Shāh Rukh (r. 807–50/1405–47). Thanks to these two pieces of information, we can state with some certainty that the fragments identified correspond to a letter redacted by Qarā Yūsuf’s chancery and that the letter was sent to the Mamluk sultan who ruled at that time, al-Muʾayyad Shaykh (r. 815–824/1412–21). We already know that al-Maqrīzī was in Egypt when he reused this document as scrap paper.

3

Qara Qoyunlu Diplomatics and the Nature of the Fragmentary Document

Before looking further into the context that led to the issue of the document, it is essential to proceed with its reconstruction, i.e., to attempt to put the few preserved fragments into order. Dealing with a Qara Qoyunlu chancery document, it is thus crucial to consider what the structure of a letter might have been. Unfortunately, in contrast to what we have for Mamluk chancery practice, we do not know of a manual similar to al-Qalqashandī’s Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā for the Qara Qoyunlu.17 For the study of Qara Qoyunlu diplomatics, we can 15

16 17

In four cases, the remaining parts of the line are close to the edge of the leaf where the cutting took place, leaving only the lower or the upper part of some letters that prevents any interpretation of the words. On the practice of summer and winter pastures by these groups, see Potts, Nomadism. The only modern source to tackle Qara Qoyunlu diplomatics in some detail is Busse,

diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat

421

only consider the documents that have survived in other ways, i.e., originals and copies. As for the originals, only twelve documents in Persian have been preserved and published. Their dates of issue span some forty years, between 853/1449 for the oldest, and 896/1490–1 for the most recent.18 Of these, only one can be identified as an official letter in Persian addressed to the Ottoman sultan Meḥmed II (r. 848–50/1444–6, 855–86/1451–81).19 Additional letters are available in copies found in a wide array of Mamluk, Ottoman, and Timurid sources. For the Mamluk sources, copies of seven letters in Arabic are accessible in epistolary collections.20 On the Ottoman side, a similar number of copies

18

19 20

Untersuchungen, though his main focus is on the Safavid chancery. Moreover, the data regarding the Qara Qoyunlu chancery practices are mixed with those of the other dynasties. The list is based on the following incomplete sources: Busse, Untersuchungen 250; Aubin, Un Soyurghal 159, note 1; Mudarrisī-Ṭabāṭabāʾī, Haft farmān, 88–91; Digital Persian Archives (www.asnad.org): – Jahānshāh b. Qarā Yūsuf (r. 837–72/1434–67): 1) Farmān, 21–30 Rabīʿ I 853/14–23 May 1449, Institut drevnikh rukopisei im. Mashtotsa “Matenadaran” (Erevan), Papazian, Persidskie dokumenty 244–5; 2) Farmān, 13 Ramaḍān 857/17 September 1453, Topkapı Sarayı Müzesi Arşivi (Istanbul), Busse, Untersuchungen, 149–50; 3) Suyūrghāl, 3 Rajab 859/19 June 1455, Topkapı Sarayı Müzesi Arşivi (Istanbul), Aubin, Un Soyurghal; 4) Copy of a manshūr, Bīgum Khātūn, wife of Jahānshāh, 10 Dhū l-Qaʿda 866/6 August 1462, Institut drevnikh rukopisei im. Mashtotsa “Matenadaran” (Erevan), Papazian, Persidskie dokumenty 248–9: 5) Farmān, 27 Jumādā I 867/17 February 1463, Aubin, Note, 125–8; Humāyūn Farrūkh, Farmānī; 6–7) Copies of two manshūrs, 25 Dhū lḤijja 870/8 August 1466, present location unknown, Qājār, Tārīkh, 83–5; 8) Letter to the Ottoman sultan Meḥmed II, undated (ca. 872/1467), Topkapı Sarayı Müzesi Arşivi (Istanbul), Fekete, Einführung 117–21; 9) Farmān, undated, Institut drevnikh rukopisei im. Mashtotsa “Matenadaran” (Erevan), Papazian, Persidskie dokumenty 246–7; not accounted for here is an inscription corresponding to a farmān regarding the abolition of illegitimate taxes found in the Masjid-i jāmiʿ in Gorgan, 9 Jumādā I 862/25 March 1458, Dhabīḥī, Dū sanad, 313–4; – Ḥasan ʿAlī b. Jahānshāh (r. 872–3/1467–9): 10) Farmān, 4 Ramaḍān 872/28 March 1468, Institut drevnikh rukopisei im. Mashtotsa “Matenadaran” (Erevan), Papazian, Persidskie dokumenty 250–1; 11) Farmān, 27 Shawwāl 873/10 May 1469, Kitābkhāna-yi Markazī-i Dānishgāh-yi Tihrān (Tehran), no. 9189, Mudarrisī-Ṭabāṭabāʾī, Haft farmān 96–8; – Yūsuf b. Jahānshāh (r. 873–4/1469): 12) Vaqf-nāma, Muḥarram 869/September 1464–5, Mudarrisī-Ṭabāṭabāʾī, Vaqf-nāma, 248–65. A copy of this letter can also be found in Ferīdūn Beg’s Mecmūʿa i, 274–5. Ibn Ḥijja (d. 837/1434), Qahwat al-inshāʾ: – Qarā Yūsuf (r. ca. 792–823/ca. 1390–1420): 1) Letter to al-Muʾayyad Shaykh, mid-Rajab [819]/8 September 1416, no. 48, 198–202; 2) Letter to the same, 27 Rabīʿ II [820] (arrived in Cairo on 27 Jumādā I 820/12 July 1417), no. 55, 221–4; – Iskandar b. Qarā Yūsuf (r. 823/1420–841/1438): 3) Letter to al-Muẓaffar Aḥmad II b. Shaykh (r. 824/1421), undated (arrived in Cairo on 14 Rabīʿ I 825/8 March 1422), no. 97,

422

bauden

of letters in Persian has been preserved in Ferīdūn Beg’s collection.21 Finally, three copies of letters in Persian addressed by Qarā Yūsuf to the Timurid Shāh Rukh can be found in a late compendium of mainly Timurid epistolography.22 It is generally assumed that the rules applied by the Qara Qoyunlu chancery, like that of the Aq Qoyunlu, followed those set by its Timurid counterpart.23

21

22

23

359–62; 4) Letter to Barsbāy (r. 825/1422–841/1438), end of Shaʿbān 825/mid-August 1422, no. 109, 391–6; – Yār ʿAlī b. Iskandar (d. 853/1449), governor of Mardin: 5) Letter to Barsbāy, undated (arrived in Cairo in Shaʿbān 825/July–August 1422), no. 102, 377. Munshaʾa (Paris, BnF, MS Arabe 4440; see Bauden, Les Relations): – Pīr Būdāq b. Jahānshāh (r. 866–71/1461–6): 6) Letter to Īnāl (r. 857–65/1453–61), end of Dhū l-Qaʿda 859/early November 1455, no. 36, fols. 161b–163a; 7) Letter to the same, undated (reached Cairo on 1 Dhū l-Qaʿda 861/20 September 1457), no. 38, fols. 164b– 167a. The letters, together with the answers from the Mamluk side, found in this collection have since been published. See Dekkiche, The letter. In his Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā, al-Qalqashandī does not provide any information regarding the correspondence with the Qara Qoyunlu because, at the date of its redaction (814/1412), Qarā Yūsuf was struggling to regain control of his territories from the Timurids; he had just emerged as the founder of a dynasty with the nomination of his son, Pīr Būdāq, as jointruler holding the title of sultan (810/1407–8); and only in 813/1410 did he end his allegiance to the Jalayirid Sulṭān Aḥmad b. Shaykh Uways (r. 784–813/1382–1410), who, in his attempt to reconquer Azerbaijan from Qarā Yūsuf, was killed in the battle that took place outside Tabriz. On the other hand, al-Saḥmāwī (d. 868/1464), whose manual fills the gap between al-Qalqashandī and the letters contained in MS Arabe 4440, is not more instructive; he provides only slight details about the format of paper and the formulas to be used for Qarā Yūsuf’s son, Iskandar. See al-Saḥmāwī, al-Taghr al-bāsim ii, 748. Feridūn Beg, Mecmūʿa: – Qarā Yūsuf: 1) Letter to Meḥmed II, undated (819/1416–7), i, 151–2; – Iskandar b. Qarā Yūsuf: 2) Letter to Meḥmed II, undated (819/1416–7), i, 152–3; – Jahānshāh b. Qarā Yūsuf: 3) Response to Meḥmed II, end of Rajab 848/mid-November 1444, i, 224; 4) Response to Meḥmed II’s Fatḥnāme, undated (857/1453), i, 248–50; 5) Response to Meḥmed II, undated (aft. 857/1453), i, 255–7; 6) Response to Meḥmed II, undated (aft. 857/1453), i, 264; 7) Letter to Meḥmed II, undated, i, 273–4 (copy of the original letter mentioned above, see footnote 20). MS SP 1825 (Paris, BnF): – Qarā Yūsuf: 1) Letter to Shāh Rukh, undated (datable to end 817/beg. 1415), Navāʾī, Asnād 167–8; 2) Letter to the same, undated, Navāʾī, Asnād 169–70; 3) Letter to the same, dated 25 Muḥarram [818/6 April 1415], Navāʾī, Asnād 171–3 (a copy of this letter is also found in Yūsuf-i Ahl’s Farāʾid-i Ghiyāthī ii, 190–3). See Aubin, Un Soyurghal 162 (“Fondée sur l’ examen d’un nombre de pièces très insuffisant, notre connaissance des usages des chancelleries turkmènes est encore fragile. La diplomatique turkmène emprunte ses règles à la diplomatique chagatay et il eût fallu, en bonne méthode, étudier d’ abord celle-ci pour mieux suivre l’évolution de celle-là, en palliant, comme il est possible de le faire partiellement, la perte des originaux d’époque mongole ou timouride par un recours soigneux aux copies anciennes”). Since Aubin, our knowledge of the Timurid chancery and its rules has greatly improved. See, in particular, Mitchell, The practice; Mitchell, Safavid imperial Tarassul.

diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat

423

Persian was the language that was most widely used by the Qara Qoyunlu chancery, as is confirmed by the correspondence with the Timurids and the Ottomans, as well as the other official documents related to the internal administration ( farmān, suyūrghāl) that have been preserved. Arabic was nevertheless used for communication with rulers of regions outside the Persophone world, like the Mamluks. The seven letters addressed to the Mamluk sultans that have been preserved as copies in Ibn Ḥijja’s Qahwat al-inshāʾ and the anonymous collection of the Paris MS Arabe 4440 are further proof that the Qara Qoyunlu preferred Arabic whenever they wanted to convey their message to their Egyptian addressees.24 As one may assume, these copies of letters offer a unique opportunity to compare, in the frame of diplomatics, the fragments of the original letter that is at the core of this study, in order to permit an attempt at its reconstruction. In what follows, we focus on the three main diplomatic parts of the documents (iftitāḥ/protocol, matn/text, and khawātim/eschatocol). To accurately reconstruct the fragments, it is necessary to understand where each part belongs. Another key issue to consider in this respect regards the nature of the letter: Was it an inceptive letter (kitāb ibtidāʾī), i.e., a letter that initiated a correspondence, or a reply ( jawāb). This distinction played a role in the way the letter was redacted, i.e., in rhetorical terms, and also on its content.25 In analyzing their structure, we must bear in mind that the letters are available as copies only, which means that the authors who transmitted them may have overlooked parts that were less worthy of interest from their point of view, particularly parts of the protocol and the eschatocol. Consequently, we should not be surprised to notice some discrepancies in these parts. Among the seven copies of Qara Qoyunlu letters sent to their Mamluk counterparts, three can be regarded as inceptive, while the remaining three consisted of replies (see table 12.3).26 Of the inceptive letters, one was sent by Qarā 24

25

26

The Mamluk chronicles only report one case in which a Qara Qoyunlu Persian letter sent by Jahānshāh b. Qarā Yūsuf was delivered in Cairo (Muḥarram 855/February 1451) and needed to be translated. See Ibn Taghrī Birdī, Ḥawādith al-duhūr 261: wa-kāna kitāb Jahānshāh bi-l-ʿajamī fa-ʿurriba. See also about this embassy Dekkiche, The letter 587–8. As Gully puts it, “letters of response were more demanding and more challenging intellectually than the original letters,” because “the initiator of the communication (Ar. almubtadiʾ) is the arbitrer in his letter,” while “the respondent is not free to use displacement, rather he is merely the one who follows the [communicative] objective of the initiator, building on his foundation.” Gully, The culture 155. For the replies in the Mamluk chancery practice, see al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā vii, 103 ff. See note 21, respectively nos. 1, 5–7 and 2–4. No. 5 will not be taken into account here as it was sent by the Qara Qoyunlu governor of Mardin, which means it came from a person of a lower status in comparison to the Mamluk sultan. The structure of his letter thus follows a different pattern.

‫‪424‬‬

‫‪bauden‬‬

‫‪table 12.3 Structure of six Qara Qoyunlu letters sent to the Mamluk sultans27‬‬ ‫‪Inceptive letters‬‬ ‫)‪7. Pīr Būdāq (861/1467‬‬

‫)‪6. Pīr Būdāq (859/1455‬‬

‫)‪1. Qarā Yūsuf (819/1416‬‬

‫بسملة‪ ،‬حمدلة‪ ،‬تصلية‬

‫بسملة‪ ،‬حمدلة‪ ،‬تصلية‬

‫بسملة‬

‫أما بعد فنهدي إلى الحضرة‬

‫أما بعد فالسلام … يخص المقام‬

‫إلى الحضرة الشر يفة …‬

‫الشر يفة … أصناف التحية‬

‫الشر يف …‬

‫وصنوف السلام …‬ ‫‪Protocol‬‬

‫أدام الل ّٰه تعالى عزها على العباد …‬

‫خلد الل ّٰه تعالى ملـكه …‬

‫نعرض اولا … أن الأمور …‬

‫أصدرنا هذه المفاوضة …‬

‫خلد الل ّٰه تعالى على دوام النصر‬ ‫ملـكه وسلطانه …‬ ‫رقمت هذه الصحيفة ‪… date‬‬ ‫أما بعد فإنه ينهي …‬

‫جار ية على وفق المرام …‬

‫‪Text‬‬ ‫والمرجو …‬

‫وثانيا قد رقمت هذه الصحيفة‬ ‫‪ date‬ليحيط علمه الشر يف …‬

‫حمدلة‬

‫‪date‬‬ ‫‪Eschatocol‬‬

‫‪The numbers placed before the name of the issuer refer to the number of the document‬‬ ‫‪in note 21.‬‬

‫‪27‬‬

‫‪425‬‬

‫‪diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat‬‬

‫‪Letters of response‬‬ ‫)‪3. Iskandar (825/1422‬‬

‫)‪4. Iskandar (825/1422‬‬

‫)‪2. Qarā Yūsuf (820/1417‬‬

‫بسملة‬

‫بسملة‪ ،‬حمدلة‪ ،‬تصلية‬

‫ورد ما أنعم بإصداره …‬

‫و بعد ﴿فإني ألقي إلي كتاب‬

‫جواب سلطان الإسلام‬

‫السلطان الأعظم …‬

‫كر يم﴾ ممن هو أعظم من ملك‬

‫السلطان الأعظم …‬

‫البلاد …‬ ‫ز ين الل ّٰه سر ير …‬

‫أسبغ الل ّٰه تعالى ظلال السلطنة‬

‫‪Protocol‬‬ ‫خلد الل ّٰه ملـكه وجدد …‬

‫المظفر ية …‬ ‫فتلقي بالتعظيم …‬

‫بعد أن تلقي بالتبجيل …‬

‫فتلقاه المخلص …‬

‫معلنا بذكر ما نحن عليه … موضحا‬

‫فالمرجو من صدقات مالك الرق‬

‫و يعرض بعد الإخلاص أن …‬

‫لعلمه الـكر يم …‬

‫وواهب الرفق أن …‬

‫فالمتوقع‬

‫فالمتوقع‬

‫حسبلة‬

‫حمدلة‪ ،‬تصلية‬

‫وسطرت ‪ date‬صحبة الجناب …‬

‫كتب حسب المرسوم ‪date‬‬

‫‪Text‬‬

‫والمتوقع‬ ‫‪Eschatocol‬‬

426

bauden

Yūsuf and two by Pīr Būdāq. It is particularly noteworthy that Qarā Yūsuf’s letter starts with the formula ilā l-ḥaḍra al-sharīfa followed by the inscriptio, i.e., a long series of titles (alqāb), and the blessing (duʿāʾ). It corresponds exactly to the formula attested in Timurid chancery practice (bi-ḥażrat).28 On the contrary, Pīr Būdāq’s letters begin with the salutatio, in which the addressee’s titles are mentioned together with the usual blessing. Moreover, while Pīr Būdāq’s first letter ends with the date as in the Mamluk chancery tradition, Qarā Yūsuf’s letter and Pīr Būdāq’s second letter are indeed dated, but this does not appear in the protocol, rather it appears in the text, at the beginning of the narratio.29 As for the letters of response, we must stress that these three share a common feature, i.e., the acknowledgment of receipt, but they do so in a slightly different manner. Qarā Yūsuf’s response commences with the word jawāb, followed by the titles of the Mamluk sultan and the blessing with, finally, the acknowledgment of receipt ( fa-talaqqāhu l-mukhliṣ). By contrast, Iskandar’s first letter opens with wa-baʿd and a Quranic verse evoking the arrival of a message (“See, a letter honourable has been cast unto me”; 27:29) together with an evocation of the recipient with titles used as superlatives and, finally, the blessing. In his second letter, the text immediately opens with the notification of the receipt (warada mā anʿama bi-iṣdārihi …), then the title of the issuer, followed by the blessing and the way the letter was welcomed. Once again, Qarā Yūsuf’s letter diverges from those issued by his son in the position of the date, i.e., it is in the text rather that in the eschatocol as for Iskandar,30 but we have seen that, forty years later, Pīr Būdāq’s second letter featured the same characteristic, indicating that this was a chancery practice that was maintained and applied from time to time.31 The text (matn) can be divided into two sections (narratio, dispositio), the first one devoted to confirming that the contents of the message 28 29

30

31

Mitchell, Safavid imperial Tarassul 184. The Mamluk chancery reserved the title al-ḥaḍra al-sharīfa for the Ilkhanids. See al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā vi, 129 and vii, 257–9. Contrary to Mamluk practice, the signature (ʿalāma) of the Qara Qoyunlu ruler was applied at the end of the document, in the right margin. For letter no. 6, it is indicated that it was found in front of the penultimate line; for letter no. 7 no precise indication of its position at the end is mentioned. The only original Qara Qoyunlu letter preserved (see note 19, no. 8) confirms this practice. See Fekete, Einführung pl. 29 (in front of the fourth line before the end). The date in Iskandar’s first letter is missing in the source but, in comparison with his second letter, it was certainly placed at the end, because that’s the only other option. Its omission must be attributed to Ibn Ḥijja. In a Persian letter addressed to Shāh Rukh by Qarā Yūsuf, the date also appears at the beginning of the text (matn). See below, note 83. Moreover, in other examples from the Qara Qoyunlu chancery the year is dropped whenever the date is provided in the text (matn).

diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat

427

table 12.4 Similar expressions to characterize how the Mamluk letter was received by the Qara Qoyunlu ruler

fols. 332 and 27

‫تلقيناه بالقبول والاكرام اتاني كتاب لا اراه مشابه ًا بغير كتاب الل ّٰه من سا ير الـكتب‬ ﴾‫بادرنا اليه بالتبجيل والت ّعظيم وقلُنا ﴿أن ّي القي اليّ كتاب كر يم‬

no. 2 (Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 222, ll. 9–10)

‫فتلقاه المخلص بأنواع الإعزاز والإكرام وأصناف التبجيل والتفخيم والاهتزاز والاحترام‬

no. 3 (ibid. 360, ll. 13–14)

‫شكرا لوصول الكتاب المزيح للشبهات والمز يل للـكر بات بعد أن تلقي بالتبجيل والإكرام‬

‫بأضعاف آلاف ذلك الذي ورد وظهر بتحر ير قلمهم‬

‫والتعظيم والاحترام‬ no. 4 (ibid. 392, ll. 12–3)

‫فتلقي بالتعظيم حين وفد وابتهج بوروده حين ورد فقو بل بالتبجيل والتكر يم وتلي عنده يا‬ ﴾‫قوم ﴿إني ألقي إلي كتاب كر يم‬

received (written and orally transmitted by the envoy) were fully understood, that the gifts, if any, were appreciated, and second, providing information on the current state of affairs in the issuer’s territories. The second part, in all three cases clearly identified by the marker fa-l-mutawaqqaʿ (it is expected that), expresses the issuer’s goodwill toward the addressee, his eagerness to see relations of friendship and unity with the recipient developed or maintained and the exchange of envoys and messages strengthened. Thanks to these elements, it is easier to approach some fragments from the document under scrutiny. Two fragments (fols. 332 and 27) prove to be most significant for the identification of the category (inceptive letter or response) to which the letter belongs. The inscription on fol. 332b reads talaqqaynāhu bil-qubūl / wa-l-ikrām atānī kitāb lā arāhu mushābihan bi-ghayr kitāb Allāh min sāʾir al-kutub (“we received it wholeheartedly and reverentially. A message, only comparable to God’s message, reached me”). Fol. 27b quotes Sūrat al-Naml (27), the same verse (29) featured in letter no. 3 and in letter no. 4 of the same year and by the same Iskandar.32 Its appearance in these two letters of response indicates that this verse seems to have been particularly valued by the Qara Qoyunlu chancery in these circumstances. Moreover, the words used to express how the letter was received echo those found in the three letters of response as table 12.4 shows. 32

See Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 359, line 13, and 392, line 13.

428

bauden

The convergence noticed in the use of the same verse (al-Naml, 27:29) in two other Qara Qoyunlu letters and in the similar expressions for the way the Mamluk letter was received in three of their letters leaves no doubt that the fragments belonged to a letter of response. The reconstruction can now be carried out with much more confidence on the basis of the structure of the Qara Qoyunlu letters of response to Mamluk letters analyzed above, and considering the measures (upper and lower edges) that help to calculate the size of the line space (see table 12.5). Lines 1–2 were clearly part of the inscriptio. In the case of Qarā Yūsuf’s letter (no. 2), it was placed at the very beginning and consisted of composite titles (alqāb murakkaba), like mudammir al-fajara wa-l-mushrikīn. Here, the inscriptio included simple titles (alqāb mufrada), i.e. al-mujāhidī al-ẓahīrī. Such titles do not feature in any of the three Qara Qoyunlu letters of response, but the sample is far too small to dismiss the fact that the recipient was the Mamluk sultan, as it will be confirmed with other elements to be studied below.33 Some composite titles do not present any similarity with other examples of documents. ʿAḍud al-milla is not attested among the titles used by the Mamluk chancery,34 but it features in a letter addressed by Bāyazīd II (r. 886–918/1481–1512) to Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī (r. 906–22/1501–16).35 The same is valid for ẓahīr al-umma36 and kahf al-ghuzāt wa-mujāhidīn.37 The last title, qāmiʿ al-kafara wa-l-mutamarridīn, once again, is not evidenced in any of the three Qara Qoyunlu responses,38 33

34

35 36

37

38

The practice of addressing the Mamluk sultan with simple and composite titles is not unusual. See, for instance, Meḥmed I’s contemporary letter (819/1416) in Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 179, where the titles al-mujāhidī and al-ẓahīrī appear as well as composite titles quite similar to those found in our fragments (qāhir al-ṭuġāt wa-l-mutamarridīn, ʿawn alumma al-bāhira, kahf al-milla al-zāhira). It is attested in epigraphy only twice, in inscriptions to be attributed to a Burid Atabeg in the early sixth/twelfth c. See Kalus, Thesaurus, nos. 7745 and 7759. In Mamluk chancery manuals, the following forms were in use: ʿAḍud amīr al-muʾminīn/al-dawla/al-dīn/almulūk wa-l-salāṭīn. See al-Baqlī, Fahāris, s.v. ʿaḍud. Ferīdūn Beg, Mecmūʿa i, 356. Not attested in epigraphy. The following pairs were used by the Mamluk chancery: ẓahīr alimām/al-imāma/amīr al-muʾminīn/al-ḫilāfa/al-mulūk wa-l-salāṭīn. See al-Baqlī, Fahāris, s.v. ẓahīr. In letter no. 4, the answer sent by Iskandar, the composite title ẓahr al-islām wa-l-muslimīn is given to the Mamluk sultan. Not attested in epigraphy. In Mamluk chancery practice, it appears as follows: kahf al-islām wa-l-muslimīn/al-umma/al-kuttāb/al-milla. See al-Baqlī, Fahāris, s.v. kahf. In Bāyazīd II’s letter mentioned above, the Mamluk sultan is addressed with the composite title of kahf al-umma. On the contrary, it characterizes three Mamluk sultans in several inscriptions: Kalus, Thesaurus, nos. 3868 (al-Nāṣir Muḥammad), 11430 (Qāytbāy), 12164 (Qānṣawh). The oldest attestation of the title in a slightly different form is from the end of the sixth/twelfth c. for an Artuqid ruler: qāmiʿ al-mulḥidīn wa-l-mutamarridīn (ibid., no. 8078).

‫ن ُصرته‬. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ............................................. his victory

158

169

44

48

Marg.

‫ل يوم سعادة الملُك‬ ّ ‫جّدد الل ّه ُتعاَ لى ك‬ May God Exalted renew every day the prosperity of the realm

169

W.

48

160

H.

‫ف الغ ُزاة والمجُاهدي ْن قامُع الـكفرة والم ُتمر ّدين‬ ُ ‫كه‬ shelter of the warrior champions and the fighters, represser of the infidels and the rebels

‫ضد الملةّ ظهير الامُ ّة‬ ُ ‫يع‬ ّ ‫ي الظهير‬ ّ ‫المجُاهد‬ the fighter, the partisan, support of the community, backer of the umma,

Text

59

34

56

16

0

18

0

35

end

beg.

beg.

end

Low. edge

Up. edge

82–82

85–85

Line space

The bold horizontal line is used to separate sections (protocol and text; no fragment belongs to the third section, the eschatocol, so it is not represented in the table) while the dotted line indicates that there is a gap between two fragments inside the same section.

14533 389

3–4

39

14533 388

1–2

Fol.

MS

Line no.

table 12.5 The reconstructed letter39

diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat

429

14533 331

14533 332

5–6

7–8

Fol.

MS

Line no.

‫والاكرام اتاني كتاب لا اراه مشابه ًا بغير كتاب الل ّٰه من سا ير الـكتب‬ and reverentially. A message, only comparable to God’s message, reached me.

‫ثمار الاعتضاد من الفاظه ومعانيه تلقيناه بالقبول‬ the yields of his request for support from his words and meanings, we received it wholeheartedly 162

172

172

‫ساعات‬ ّ ‫على عداته في اعز الأْوقات واشرف ال‬ over his enemies in the mightiest moments and the noblest hours 163 ‫ات‬. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

W.

H.

Text

Table 12.5 The reconstructed letter (cont.)

45

50

45

Marg.

37

85

12

63

15

72

45

78

end

beg.

beg.

end

Low. edge

Up. edge

85–75

?–78

Line space

430 bauden

‫صايبة عن شوايب الـك ُدورات‬ ّ ‫صادرة عن فرط الأشواق ٱل‬ ّ ‫ال‬ emanating from immoderate desires free from the stains of filth

149

183

185

﴾‫بادرنا اليه بالتبجيل والت ّعظيم وقلُنا ﴿أن ّي القي اليّ كتاب كر يم‬ We hastened to it to show respect and exaltation and we 147 said: “See, a letter honourable has been cast unto me”;40

‫وقايلناه باتحاف الادعية الوافرة والاثنية المتكا ثرة‬ we requited it with the offering of abundant supplications and multifarious praises

W.

H.

Text

Qurʾān 27 (al-Naml): 29.

1366c 25

10–11

40

1366c 27

9

Fol.

MS

Line no.

Table 12.5 The reconstructed letter (cont.)

37

32

35

Marg.

5

63

0

40

34

75

50

75

end

beg.

beg.

end

Low. edge

Up. edge

85–63

Line space

diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat

431

1366c 26

14533 372

12–13

14

Fol.

MS

Line no.

180

‫عالى جنابه لا زالت شموس دولته طالعة من افق الدوام‬ the eminence of his excellence—may the suns of his 133 state never cease to be raised above the horizon of perpetuity

W.

181

H.

147

‫علي ْنا بانواع الافضال والأنعام والاجلال والاكرام‬ on us with all kinds of eminence, distinction, reverence, and honor

‫ ]…[ِـين ]…[ـحرى‬.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . [… ‫حبو]ة؟‬ present (?) ......................................................

Text

Table 12.5 The reconstructed letter (cont.)

37

35

62

67

50

85

80

64

65

end

beg.

beg.

end

Low. edge

Up. edge

43

43

Marg.

80

Line space

432 bauden

14533 371

1366c 37

1366c 16

15–16

Sic for ‫المنبئات‬.

17

18

41

Fol.

MS

Line no.

50

65 184

65

‫امير تيمور وهو سعد وقاّ س ووفد به علينا منبيّ ا باذيال‬ 141 Amīr Tīmūr, that is Saʿd Waqqās. He came with him to us bringing the good news of the results

38

65

43

40

39

180

72

55

79

80

10

end

beg.

beg.

end

Low. edge

Up. edge

‫صو ْرة‬ ُ ‫كان قد تمر ّد علينا وحين توجهنا بعساكرنا المظفرة المن‬ He rebelled against us and when we directed ourselves 149 with our triumphant and victorious troops

43

Marg.

0

170

W.

43

165

H.

‫صلة في مفاوضت ِه‬ ّ ‫واستيلايه ثانيا على البلاد المف‬ and reconquered the lands detailed in his letter

‫ عن دفع مخالفيه‬41‫سَارة الم ُنبات‬ ّ ‫من الاخبار ال‬ of joyous news announcing that he had driven away those [who] disobey him

Text

Table 12.5 The reconstructed letter (cont.)

81–77

Line space

diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat

433

‫من جانب سلاطين ديار بركة خان انار الل ّٰه برهانه رسل ورسايل‬ from the sultans of the lands of Berke Khān—May God illuminate his proof—by envoys and letters

‫ضا قد وفد علينا‬ ً ‫سلـكه واي‬ ْ ‫باْرسال الر ّ ُسل سالك ًا م‬ to send envoys following his path. Also we have been reached 141

179

183

﴾‫جندنا له ُم الغالبوُ ن‬ ُ ‫و بلدانها الى اصفهان وخ ُراسان ﴿وان‬ and its lands up to Isfahan and Khurasan. And Our host—they are the victors42 148

‫ان ى‬. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

W.

H.

Text

41

38

40

Marg.

40

59

20

34

13

75

30

82

end

beg.

beg.

end

Low. edge

Up. edge

73–70

?–82

Line space

Qurʾān 37 (al-Ṣāffāt): 173. The verse was also used in an Ottoman letter from Meḥmed I to al-Muʾayyad Shaykh (dated 16 Ṣafar 819/15 April 1416; reached Cairo on 5 Shaʿbān 819/28 September 1416). Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 181, l. 2.

1366c 29

21–22

42

14533 373

19–20

Fol.

MS

Line no.

Table 12.5 The reconstructed letter (cont.)

434 bauden

1366c 15

23–24

Fol.

MS

Line no.

173

‫صيف الاتاق‬ ِ ‫الر بّ يع انشا الل ّه ُتعالى نهضنا بعساكرنا الى م‬ Spring, if God Exalted wills, we will head with our troops for the summer camp of Ala Dağ 141

.. .. .. .‫الـ‬. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .‫ـكـ‬. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

W.

H.

Text

Table 12.5 The reconstructed letter (cont.)

45

Marg.

65

40

68

65

end

beg.

beg.

end

Low. edge

Up. edge

Line space

diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat

435

436

bauden

but a similar composite title echoes it: qāhir al-kafara wa-l-mutamarridīn.43 After ll. 1–2, other composite titles followed until the name of the recipient, the Mamluk sultan, was finally mentioned. At its end came the blessing (duʿāʾ), ll. 3–4, on the second line of which only the last word can be read and tallies with comparable formulas.44 The two following lines (ll. 5–6) seem to be directly connected with the previous one, thus providing the end of the blessing: the last word of l. 4 (nuṣratahu), certainly preceded by an optative verb with God as subject (as in l. 3), evenly connects with the beginning of l. 5 (ʿalā ʿudātihi …), because not only does it make sense but the line space fits well too.45 The next five lines (ll. 7–11) form another block of fragments clearly connected one with each other. The fact that fols. 25–7 constitute a large fragment of three lines that was not further cut in two by al-Maqrīzī, like most of the remainder of the fragments, is particularly helpful. It has already been shown that they agree with the section where acknowledgement of the receipt of the letter is expressed and that they offer an almost perfect match with similar passages in the three Qara Qoyunlu letters of response (see table 12.4). The exact position of the next fragment (ll. 12–13) is purely tentative and is placed there because its contents are apparently linked to the previous. The last one for the protocol (l. 14), a further blessing, may have closed that section of the document, exactly as in the case of letter no. 2.46 As regards the text (matn), for which only 10 lines (ll. 15–24) have been preserved, it is composed of six fragments all disconnected. Among these, two can be placed with some confidence in the correct order. The first fragment contains ll. 15–16, where the issuer speaks of the good news that his recipient’s message contained. It must have been part of the beginning of the narratio where the issuer reiterates his receipt of the letter and the effect it made on him. Qarā Yūsuf’s answer (letter no. 2) provides an interesting comparative example.47 The second one was more than probably near the end of the narratio because the issuer evokes his future move to another place once the Spring will be there, meaning that it belonged to the part of the message where he was 43 44 45

46 47

Letter no. 4 sent by Iskandar. Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 391, l. 15. The verb jaddada was used in such a context in letter no. 1 sent by Qarā Yūsuf: khallada Allāh mulkahu wa-jaddada. Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 222, l. 3. The space below l. 4 is equal to 0 mm because the inscription was almost completely cut while it corresponds to 85 mm at the beginning of l. 5 and 63mm at its end. We saw that the line space for the document was between 80 and 85mm large. Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 222, ll. 19–20: fa-lā zālat umūr dawlatikum wa-jumhūr mamlakatikum nājiḥat al-maqāṣid wa-l-āmāl wa-l-amānī innahu samīʿ mujīb. Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 223, ll. 1–2: wa-yuʿarriḍ baʿd al-ikhlāṣ anna l-alṭāf wa-l-tafaqqudāt al-wārida fī mithālikum al-sharīf jaʿalat raʾsanā ʿāliyan wa-qadranā sāmiyan …

diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat

437

offering detailed information on the state of his affairs. In between, four fragments, not necessarily in the good order, are related to the narration of events that occurred during the past few months, i.e. from the section of the narratio that was exactly placed amid the declaration of receipt that opened it and its end. So far for the internal analysis. The external elements with which diplomatics is concerned are the size of the document (width, length), the layout of the text (right margin, line space), and the handwriting. Most of these elements are challenging to address considering the fragmentary state of our document. The issue of the original size of the document is the more problematic as only a few fragments were retrieved from al-Maqrīzī’s known holographs. It can fairly be stated that all these fragments, put one below the other, would make a scroll 2.1m long and that it was much longer than that as only some parts of it have been retrieved in al-Maqrīzī’s holographs. A good way to figure out how long it could originally have been is to compare the number of the words found in the fragments (154 words for 19 full lines preserved, with an average of 8.1 words per line) with those included in the copy of Qarā Yūsuf’s letter of response (no. 2; 628 words). Divided by the average number of words per line for our document, it gives a result of 77.5 lines for letter no. 2. The letter must thus have measured a little more than 6.5m.48 This result is helpful to realize how much of our letter has been lost.49 The size of the right margin (50 mm) is commensurate with 48

49

This result is obtained by multiplying the number of lines (77.5) by the line space in our fragments (between 80–85 mm), which gives between 6.2–6.5m. It must be kept in mind that at the beginning of the document some space was problably left blank, like in Mamluk chancery practice, meaning that its total length must have been closer to 7m. This is much longer than any other Qara Qoyunlu document preserved. See Busse, Untersuchungen 27. Another question that it would be worth to tackle regards the width of the document and its relation with the status recognized to the Mamluk sultan by the Qara Qoyunlu chancery, at least at the time of Qarā Yūsuf, as its usages were similar in this respect with Mamluk chancery rules (Busse, Untersuchungen 27). Unfortunately, our knowledge of this aspect of diplomatics is certainly the poorest, whatever the tradition considered (Mamluk, Timurid, Qara Qoyunlu, Ottoman, …). Most of the scholars rarely indicate the measures of the documents they publish, not least those of each sheet (waṣl) that composes a scroll. In the case of the Qara Qoyunlu original letter sent by Jahānshāh to Meḥmed II (Fekete, Einführung 117–21), not only do we ignore its width, the size of each sheet, but even its total length. The only thing that can be ascertained, thanks to the reproduction, is that it is composed of six sheets (waṣl). In the case of our document, it is clear that its width (see table 12.2) was between 169–185 mm, with a margin of roughly 50mm. But our knowledge of paper produced in Qara Qoyunlu territories is scanty. On the basis of manuscripts produced in Iraq between the seventh/thirtheenth and the beginning of the ninth/fifteenth c., Ben Azzouna, La Question 138 identified three formats, the largest being 680–820×488–

438

bauden

the rule observed in other Persian documents from the same period: between ⅓ and ¼ of the width (here 185mm).50 With respect to the handwriting, it has been seen that it was identified as taʿlīq according to rules stipulated and the samples supplied by a Mamluk chancery secretary (al-Qalqashandī) and a calligraphist (al-Ṭayyibī) while it is usually assumed, on the basis of the few original documents still available, that chancery documents of the Turkmen dynasties (Qara Qoyunlu and Aq Qoyunlu) were copied in dīwānī.51 Most of these documents belonging to the second half of the ninth/fifteenth c., it might indicate that this change in the calligraphic style took place in the period that separate them from our document. It could also be conjectured that the use of taʿlīq was reserved for documents issued in Arabic while dīwānī was reserved for Persian.

4

Dating the Letter

At this stage of the analysis, the date of the document is the next element that needs to be tackled. The two letters addressed by Qarā Yūsuf to the Mamluk sultan had the date indicated at some point in the narratio (see table 12.3, nos. 1–2) and not in the eschatocol. If this practice was generally applied in his letters, at least in Arabic, the date in our document would have been found in the narratio too. In any case, it is not present among the fragments. Fortunately, not only do several lines of the text prove to be helpful to answer the riddle, but the correlation of the events at which these lines hint with the data that contemporary sources offer permit to date the document with accuracy. The period considered is opportunely one of the most documented in terms of chronicles, biographical dictionaries, chancery manuals, and anthologies of documents. Of the latter category, the Qahwat al-inshāʾ of Ibn Ḥijja (d. 837/1434) is an excellent representative that has recently been made available to a large audience thanks to the excellent critical edition published in 2005 by Rudolf Veselý.52 With Nāṣir al-Dīn Ibn al-Bārizī (d. 823/1420), Ibn Ḥijja had frequented

50 51 52

577 mm. Thanks to the chain lines (parallel to the inscriptions), it could be conjectured that the sheets (waṣl, pl. awṣāl) of our document were cut from a full sheet of paper of that format (3 waṣls of 185 mm = 555 mm). The only measures we know of for a Qara Qoyunlu document (a soyūrghāl, see note 19, no. 2) are 470 × 160mm (Busse, Untersuchungen 149). Busse, Untersuchungen 28. Ibid. It is worth mentioning that Meḥmed I’s letter addressed to al-Muʾayyad Shaykh in 819/1416 was written in taʿlīq style too. Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 178, l. 13. Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ.

diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat

439

Shaykh, the future Mamluk sultan, during the latter’s governorship in Damascus and Aleppo. When Shaykh seized power in 815/1412, both were rewarded for their loyalty: Ibn al-Bārizī was nominated head of the chancery, a position he was to hold until his death, while Ibn Ḥijja was invited to work for him as a secretary whose role was to compose a wide gamut of documents (munshiʾ or muwaqqiʿ al-dast).53 Between 815/1413 and 827/1424, i.e. mostly during al-Muʾayyad Shaykh’s reign (815–24/1412–21), Ibn Ḥijja produced deeds of appointment, letters of investiture, letters of glad tidings, as well as diplomatic correspondence. Parts of his production were collected by him as samples of his ornate prose shortly after he was dismissed, the result of which is the chronologically organized collection he entitled Qahwat al-inshāʾ. There one finds, among other pieces, forty letters received in Cairo from foreign rulers and the answers redacted by Ibn Ḥijja and vice versa. Inside what appears to be one of the most remarkable miscellanies of diplomatic correspondence for the Mamluk period, one letter in particular, received in Cairo from the Qara Qoyunlu sultan, Qarā Yūsuf, and the answer penned by Ibn Ḥijja, are preserved.54 Like several other documents the Qahwat al-inshāʾ gathers, both letters are not precisely dated or not dated at all.55 However, given that Ibn Ḥijja organized the contents of his anthology in chronological order, it is not a difficult task to surmise when the Qara Qoyunlu letter arrived in Cairo and when the answer was composed. The document that immediately precedes Qarā Yūsuf’s letter is dated by Ibn Ḥijja to 20 Dhū l-Ḥijja 819/8 February 1417 (i.e. at the very end of the Islamic year), while the document that immediately follows Ibn Ḥijja’s answer to Qarā Yūsuf’s letter bears the date of 1 Muḥarram 820/18 February 1417. It may thus be concluded that Qarā Yūsuf’s letter must have reached Cairo at the end of the year 819/beginning of 1417 and, thanks to the mention in its body of the period when it was composed (midRajab [819]), that it was written in early September 1416. The Mamluk chronicles do confirm this by stating that Qarā Yūsuf’s envoy arrived in the Egyptian capital on 6 Shawwāl 819/27 November 1416.56 He left the city, with the sultan and his army who were headed for Syria, on 4 Ṣafar of the next year/23 March 1417.57 Finally, once the sultan had gone back to Elbistan, in Southern Anato53 54 55 56 57

On Ibn Ḥijja, see Stewart, Ibn Ḥijjah, as well as al-Maqrīzī, Durar al-ʿuqūd al-farīda i, 153–4 (no. 89). Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 198–202 (no. 48), 202–7 (no. 49). From the latter, Ibn Ḥijja also quoted some passages in his Thamarāt al-awrāq 417–20. The Qara Qoyunlu letter has a date indicated in the body of the text (mid-Rajab), but the year is not mentioned. Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 199, l. 14. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iv, 368; Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr iii, 100. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iv, 384–5.

440

bauden

lia, shortly after 6 Jumādā I 820/21 June 1417, he was authorized to return to his master with a gift and an answer, which had consequently been penned by Ibn Ḥijja at the very beginning of 820/1417, as confirmed by its position in Qahwat al-inshāʾ.58 The contents of Qarā Yūsuf’s letter may be summarized as follows: – Qarā Yusuf recalls the strong ties that unite him and the Mamluks since Barqūq’s reign (r. 784–91/1382–9; 792–801/1390–9), who supported him even though, at that time, Qarā Yūsuf’s rule was in its early stages (maʿa annahu kāna fī awāʾil dawlatī) and that his army was still limited in number (wa-mā kāna maʿī illā khamsa sittat ālāf ). These ties did not dwindle with Shaykh as the latter already backed him when he was governor of Damascus. The sultan al-Nāṣir Faraj (r. 801–15/1399–1412) had ordered that Qarā Yūsuf, who had fled Tīmūr with the Jalayirid Sulṭān Aḥmad b. Shaykh Uways (r. 784– 813/1382–1410) and taken refuge in the Mamluk territories, be killed. Shaykh decided to disobey because Qarā Yūsuf would better serve his ambition to seize power in Cairo, which he did. Later, Qarā Yūsuf went back to his territories and, since then, has remained a faithful ally of the Mamluk sultan (kāna hādhā l-ḍaʿīf ka-l-ṭawd al-shāmikh maʿa tilka l-ḥaḍra rāsikh al-qawl wa-thābit al-qadam). – Qarā Yūsuf then brings forth that he successfully fought against his enemies, like Tīmūr’s offspring and the Jalayirid Sulṭān Aḥmad. – Consequently, his expectation was that unity and friendship (al-ittiḥād wal-muṣādaqa) would carry on between the two rulers, with the continuous exchange of envoys and couriers (barīdiyya), so much so that the two realms and the two houses would become one (takūn al-mamlakatān wa-l-baytān wāḥid). Unfortunately, nothing of this sort took place, something that Qarā Yūsuf found unpleasant (al-ḥaqq ṣaʿuba ʿalayya hādhā). – Furthermore, rumor has it that the sultan pays attention to and feels concern for ( yultafat ilayhi wa-yuʿtanā bi-hi) the Aq Qoyunlu Qarā ʿUthmān (Qarā Yülüq; r. 805–39/1403–35), something Qarā Yūsuf considered unfair with regard to him as he purged the territories on his side, from the Euphrates up to Isfahan, of all the enemies and the highway robbers in such a way that the routes are now safer for the benefit of merchants and caravans.

58

Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iv, 409; Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr iii, 130; al-ʿAynī, ʿIqd al-jumān 291. The name of Qarā Yūsuf’s envoy seems to be corrupted in two of these three sources: for alMaqrīzī, it was Dankiz, for al-ʿAynī Dhikr Allāh, and for Ibn Ḥajar Dak.z. Dankiz is attested as a variant of Tankiz and thus appears to be the correct form of his name. See al-Ghazzī, Luṭf al-samar ii, 663 (Muṣṭafā b. Tankiz wa-yuqāl Dankiz).

diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat

441

– The letter then proceeds with information regarding the recent political and military developments on his side, that is to say: a) the preceding year, Amīrzā Saʿd-i Vaqqāṣ came to Qarā Yūsuf’s court and the conquest of his realm, Persian Iraq (ʿIrāq-i ʿAjam) and Sulṭāniyya, was made possible. Following this, a truce (ṣulḥ) was concluded with Shāh Rukh according to which the limits of their respective territories were defined as follows: from Isfahan and Persian Iraq (ʿIrāq-i ʿAjam) under Qarā Yūsuf’s rule, and from Isfahan eastward under Shāh Rukh’s rule. As a consequence, no one interferes into each other’s territory (lā yataṣarraf kull wāḥid minnā fī ghayr ḥudūdihi), there is peace between the two rulers (lā yakūn baynanā illā lmaḥabba wa-l-ittiḥād), and this area is no longer problematic for Qarā Yūsuf (ḥaṣula lanā l-iṭmiʾnān min tilka l-jiha wa-irtafaʿa l-tashwīsh). b) last Spring, Qarā Yūsuf moved to Ala Dağ (al-Udāgh) for the summer pastures. There he heard of Qarā ʿUthmān’s disorders in the area of Erzincan. With the approval of Pīr ʿUmar, the governor of Erzincan,59 Qarā Yūsuf dispatched an army of 20,000 horsemen under the command of the emir Pīr Qarā. Qarā ʿUthmān was driven away and chased back to his territories.60 c) later on, with an army of 50,000 horsemen, Qarā Yūsuf headed for Georgia (Kurjistān), where he conquered almost 3,000 villages and 200 fortresses, killing some 10,000 fighters and enslaving about 30,000 persons.61 – The letter concludes with Qarā Yūsuf reiterating his expectations of seeing the future evolve in a different way from the past, hoping for a continuous exchange of envoys and couriers to overtly express affection and unity on both sides ( yakūn ʿalā l-tawātur wa-l-tasalsul wa-l-tawālī irsāl al-rusul wa-

59

60

61

Pīr ʿUmar was one of Qarā Yūsuf’s generals. He was invested with the governorship of Erzincan by his master after the city was taken by the Qara Qoyunlu to the Muṭahhartan at the end of 812/beginning of 1410. See Woods, The Aqquyunlu 46. The event is confirmed by al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iv, 364, who places it in Rajab 819/end of August–September 1416 (wa-fīhi nazala Qarā Yulūk ʿalā Arzinjān wa-afsada bilādahā fakataba nāʾibuhā Bīr ʿUmar ilā Qarā Yūsuf fa-amaddahu bi-bnihi Iskandar fa-farra minhu Qarā Yulūk). See also Woods, The Aqquyunlu, ibid. The Armenian sources corroborate Qarā Yūsuf’s incursion into Georgian territory, its death toll and its savagery. See Mecobec‘i, Patmut‘iwn 77–8 = trans. 64–5 (“Taking the entire land captive, women and children, they filled up the entire world with Armenian slaves”); Sanjian, Colophons 138–40 (138: “the lawless tyrant named Xara Usuf [Ḳara Yūsuf], inflamed by evil, invaded Georgia [Tunn Vrac‘]; […] and he massacred all the men, and carried off the women and children into captivity”).

442

bauden

l-barīdiyya min al-jānibayn). He closes the letter with a scantily concealed threat reminding al-Muʾayyad Shaykh that if God favored the Mamluk sultan and his realms with resolution and huge financial means (bi-miqdār himmatihi l-sharīfa wa-bi-l-amwāl al-jazīla), He gratified Qarā Yūsuf’s territories with countless troops (bi-l-ʿasākir ghayr maʿdūda wa-ghayr maḥṣūra). Al-Muʾayyad Shaykh’s answer is a perfect example of duplicity, the sultan denying any collusion with Qarā ʿUthmān and confirming the necessity for maintaining enduring and strong ties of friendship between the two rulers. AlMuʾayyad Shaykh did not lose an occasion, either, to remind Qarā Yūsuf of the seditions he had to face after his access to the throne and of the successful outcome on his side,62 a crystal clear response to the equally unambiguous threat Qarā Yūsuf posed at the end of his letter. Thanks to the copy of Qarā Yūsuf’s 819/1416 letter memorialized by Ibn Ḥijja, the fragments of the reconstructed letter dovetail with the events reported here. The first most obvious reference is related to Saʿd-i Vaqqāṣ’s defection to Qarā Yūsuf (see table 12.5, l. 18), referred to as having taken place the preceding year in the 819/1416 letter. Second, ll. 19–20 in the fragments, where the names of Isfahan and Khurasan, followed by a Qurʾānic verse evoking the victory of the issuer’s army,63 echo the demarcation of the borders Qarā Yūsuf and his Timurid counterpart agreed upon and to which he alludes in his 819/1416 letter. Third, it has been established that the structure of the reconstructed letter corresponds to the pattern of a letter of response, meaning that Qarā Yūsuf received a letter from al-Muʿayyad Shaykh that prompted him to answer. Lines 15–6 can now be fathomed accordingly: “of joyous news announcing that he had driven away those [who] disobey him and reconquered the lands detailed in his letter”. The “joyous news” refer to the letter where al-Muʾayyad Shaykh announced that he managed to overcome his contenders and to restore his power (istīlāʾihi thāniyan in Arabic, i.e. for the second time) over the lost lands. These lines can only be interpreted as an allusion to al-Muʾayyad Shaykh’s campaign in Syria against Nawrūz in 817/1414, an event that led to the issue, by Ibn Ḥijja, of a letter of glad tidings (bishāra) upon the sultan’s victorious return to Cairo at the beginning of Ramaḍān 817/mid-November 1414.64 Four, Qarā Yūsuf’s insistence on an interrupted exchange of information, by means of envoys and couriers, in his 819/1416 letter, resonates with l. 21 (“to send envoys 62 63 64

The seditions in question were led by, respectively, Nawrūz in 817/1414 and Qānibāy in 818/1415, forcing al-Muʾayyad Shaykh to lead two military campaigns in Syria. “And Our host—they are the victors” (Arberry’s trans.), host being an English synonym of army. Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 79–81 (no. 26).

diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat

443

following his path”). Ultimately, and perhaps more cogently, the evocation of the summer of 819/1416 spent in a place called Ala Dağ65 can now be unscrambled in the light of ll. 23–4, where the issuer stressed that next Spring66 he planned to head for the summer pastures (maṣīf ) of Ala Dağ. All these elements help to date the reconstructed letter to the autumn of 818/1415. Thanks to alMaqrīzī, we even know that it was penned before Shaʿbān of that year/October 1415,67 because this is the date when Qarā Yūsuf’s envoy arrived in Cairo.68

5

Diplomatic Maneuvering

Now that the reconstructed letter can be dated quite precisely, we can heed the question of its significance for the events it reported to the Mamluk sultan. Furthermore, Qarā Yūsuf’s 818/1415 and 819/1416 letters allude to various events that require contextualization in order to better understand the general situation in the region at the period under consideration.69

65

66 67 68 69

The name is spelled ‫ الاتاق‬in the fragment. It is the Arabic rendering of Ala Dağ (‫)الاداغ‬, two names of Turkish origin, meaning “colorful mountain”, a name for a number of mountains in Iran, Turkey, Central Asia and Siberia. See Ehlers, Ālā Dāḡ. The word appears under various forms in Persian sources, e.g. in Juvaynī’s Tārīkh-i Jahāngushā i, 69 (note 2: ‫ الطاق‬،‫ الاطاق‬،‫ الاتاغ‬،‫ الداق‬،‫)اله داغ‬. In the Arabic sources too, mainly from the Mamluk period (see Dozy, Supplément ii, 827: ‫ اوتاغ‬،‫ اوطاق‬،‫ اوتاق‬،‫)وطاق‬, the word came to be used with the meaning of tent, camp, army kit, or garrison. Here it refers to a massif located in Azerbaijan where the Qara Qoyunlu used to summer pastures, while they spent the winter in Qarah Bagh (see al-Maqrīzī, Durar al-ʿuqūd al-farīda iii, 579, specifically for Qarā Yūsuf: fa-nazala Qarā Yūsuf ʿalā Qarābāgh li-yushattiya bi-hā). The place is also mentioned in several letters in Ibn Ḥijja’s Qahwat al-inshāʾ, either for the Qara Qoyunlu, or for the Timurids once they got rid of Qarā Yūsuf and retook control of Azerbaijan. See Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 317 (letter from Shāh Rukh, 823/1420), l. 12: thumma arsalnā … al-walad al-akram Bāy Sunqur Bahādur ilā jānibay Tabrīz wa-l-Uṭāq; and l. 15: wa-inna fī hādhihi l-mamālik laysa makān muttasiʿ yataḥammal mithl hādhihi l-ʿasākir fī l-shitāʾ ghayr Qarābāgh watawajjahnā ilayhā wa-minhā fī awān al-rabīʿ [ilā] al-Uṭāq in shāʾa Allāh; 361 (letter from Iskandar b. Qarā Yūsuf, 825/1422), ll. 17–8: fī mawḍiʿ yuqālu lahu l-Uṭāq; 377 (letter from Yār ʿAlī b. Iskandar b. Qarā Yūsuf, 825/1422), l. 19: wa-ʿāda bi-l-khayr wa-l-salāma ilā l-Udāgh. See also what Qarā Yūsuf is reported to have said: “I am from the Turkman people, my summer residence is Alataq and my winter residence is Diyār Bakr and the banks of the Euphrates” (from Mīrkhwānd, quoted by Wing, The Jalayirids 171). The future is clearly intended by the use of in shāʾa Allāh that follows. If it took two months between its issue and its arrival in Cairo, like in the case of the 819/1416 letter, its redaction can be placed around Jumadā II 818/August 1415. al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iv, 329. For the detail of the embassies exchanged between Qarā Yūsuf, Shāh Rukh, and alMuʾayyad Shaykh and mentioned in this section, see table 12.6.

444

bauden

In his 819/1416 letter to al-Muʾayyad Shaykh, Qarā Yūsuf was right in reminding him the links that they had forged in the past. During Barqūq’s sultanate, Qarā Yūsuf had dispatched to the sultan one of Tīmūr’s officers, not least his milk brother, Aṭlāmish (governor of Avnīq), he had made prisoner.70 In 806/1403, running away from Tīmūr, who considered him as the most promising and dangerous enemy for his generals and his offspring, he took refuge in Damascus, then governed by the future sultan Shaykh. Jailed and condemned to death by al-Nāṣir Faraj, he only survived thanks to Shaykh’s refusal to obey the sultan’s order. Shaykh’s intention was to take advantage of Qarā Yūsuf’s soldiers to seize power in Cairo, a scheme he eventually realized only a few years later. Qarā Yūsuf’s help was however instrumental for Shaykh’s first attempt and Shaykh let him go back to his possessions in Anatolia in 808/1405. In the following years, Qarā Yūsuf managed to impose himself as a great fighter and leader and was able to seize Azerbaijan in 809/1406 at the expense of the Timurids Mīrānshāh b. Tīmūr (d. 810/1408), whom he killed on the battleground, and his son Abā Bakr (d. 811/1409), whom he defeated at least twice.71 In 813/1410, he also took possession of Arab Iraq (ʿIrāq-i ʿArab) after he defeated and killed its ruler, the Jalayirid Sulṭān Aḥmad b. Shaykh Uways, his former ally.72 5.1 Qara Qoyunlu-Timurid Diplomatic Exchanges On the Timurid side, Shāh Rukh was still engaged in the succession struggle that broke out after his father’s death. Though he succeeded in progressively securing his power over the other Timurid princes in the eastern areas of his father’s dominion, he regarded Qarā Yūsuf as his greatest threat for the future which became even more real when the latter began to encroach on Persian Iraq (ʿIrāq-i ʿAjam), a region under Timurid control. The cities of Sulṭāniyya and of Qazwīn, both gateways to Gilan and major commercial centers, lay on the border of the spheres of influence of Shāh Rukh and Qarā Yūsuf.73 The latter succeeded in imposing his authority on a local ruler, Bisṭām-i Chākir, who, in the preceding years, had switched from the Jalayirids to the Timurids, and, in 809/1406, opted for the rising ruler that Qarā Yūsuf was becoming. Emboldened

70 71

72 73

Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 187. Manz, The rise 143. Qarā Yūsuf triumphed over Abā Bakr for the first time at the Battle of the Aras (Jumādā I 809/Octobre 1406; see Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Zubdat al-tavārīkh ii/1, 169–71), and for the second time at the Battle of Sardrūd (24 Dhū l-Qaʿda 811/21 April 1408; see Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, ibid., 227–9). On these events, see Savory, The struggle 36–8; Wing, The Jalayirids 159–75; and the latter’s article in this volume. Manz, Power 34.

diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat

445

by his pledge to the latter, Bisṭām set out for Sulṭāniyya which he conquered in 811/1408. Qarā Yūsuf approved the move by appointing Bisṭām governor of the Persian Iraq, an undisguised challenge to Shāh Rukh’s power in the region. It did not take long before Bisṭām withdrew his allegiance to the Qara Qoyunlu leader (813/1410), because he had noticed that Shāh Rukh was winning over his other pretenders.74 As a consequence, Qarā Yūsuf unsuccessfully tried to regain Sulṭāniyya and Qazwīn, laying waste to the population of the Persian Iraq during two campaigns, in 815/1412 and 816/1413.75 Aware that if he did not take action against Qarā Yūsuf’s incursions, he would be overcome in the future, Shāh Rukh decided to marshal his army in 817/1414 toward the West. En route, the rebellion of his nephew, Iskandar b. ʿUmar Shaykh in Isfahan,76 compelled Shāh Rukh to first address this internal problem before facing the issue at the borders of his domain. The rebellion crushed, Shāh Rukh had no other choice than heading back for his capital Herat. In an attempt to deal the cards again and to consolidate his power as Tīmūr’s successor, Shāh Rukh distributed among princes the leadership of several regions in Fars. Among these was his great-nephew, Saʿd-i Vaqqāṣ, to whom he gave the city of Qum.77 After Shāh Rukh’s triumphant return to Herat (22 Rajab 817/7 October 1414), various ruling figures, among whom Bisṭām, travelled to the Timurid capital to pay homage to its victorious ruler.78 Bisṭām’s relation with Qarā Yūsuf had soured for a couple of years and his visit to Shāh Rukh meant nothing else than a change of alliance, a move that Qarā Yūsuf could barely allow given his pretensions to Persian Iraq. Qarā Yūsuf’s reaction, at first, was to send an envoy bearing a letter addressed to Shāh Rukh that conveyed, according to the Timurid sources, flattering words and congratulations as well

74 75

76

77

78

Ibid. 131. Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Zubdat al-tavārīkh ii/1, 483–7 (year 815) and 506–7 (year 816). See also Faṣīḥ Khwāfī, Mujmal-i Faṣīḥī iii, 1062 (year 815) and 1064 (year 816); Samarqandī, Maṭlaʿ-i saʿdayn ii, 172 (year 815) and 181 (year 816); Album, A hoard 137. According to Khwāndamīr, Ḥabīb al-siyar iii, 588 = trans. Thackston 326, Iskandar thought that Shāh Rukh’s plan was in fact to attack him, using Qarā Yūsuf as a pretext, a miscalculation that lead him to openly rebel against his uncle. The letter Shāh Rukh sent to Iskandar on that occasion can been found in Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Zudbat al-tavārīkh ii/1, 494–6. Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Zudbat al-tavārīkh ii/1, 557–8; Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Jughrāfiyā ii, 361. See also Faṣīḥ Khwāfī, Mujmal-i Faṣīḥī iii, 1070; Samarqandī, Maṭlaʿ-i saʿdayn ii, 203; Khwāndamīr, Ḥabīb al-siyar iii, 591 = trans. Thackston 328. He must have arrived shortly after Shāh Rukh’s return, i.e. end of Rajab–early Shaʿbān 817/mid- or end of October 1414. Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Zudbat al-tavārīkh ii/1, 564. See also Faṣīḥ Khwāfī, Mujmal-i Faṣīḥī iii, 1070; Samarqandī, Maṭlaʿ-i saʿdayn ii, 204–5; Khwāndamīr, Ḥabīb al-siyar iii, 591 = trans. Thackston 328.

446

bauden

as expressions of friendship and affection.79 Given what followed, some expression of goodwill and a more precise request must also have been imparted orally by the envoy to the Timurid ruler because, at the end of the same year (817/beginning 1415), he replied with another embassy led by an accomplished diplomat, not least one of his division commanders (qushūn), whose name was Ḥasankā. In the meantime, Bisṭām was allowed to depart and to go back to his territories. On 10 Muḥarram 818/22 March 1415, Ḥasankā was back in Badghis (Afghanistan), where Shāh Rukh was encamping after going for hunting, with intelligence on the current situation in Qarā Yūsuf’s domains.80 There is a sign that a negotiation took place on the occasion of this embassy: at the end of the same month, another envoy from Qarā Yūsuf arrived in Herat. This time, the Qara Qoyunlu ruler picked out a person from his entourage, Mardānshāh, who was renowned for his eloquence and indeed seems to have made a great impression on the court. According to the Timurid historians, Qarā Yūsuf specifically asked Shāh Rukh to grant him Sulṭāniyya against the payment of a tribute.81 Fortunately, Qarā Yūsuf’s letter has been preserved and enlightens us on the context of these embassies.82 In it, Qarā Yūsuf addresses the issue of a covenant

79

80 81

82

Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Zudbat al-tavārīkh ii/1, 564. See also Faṣīḥ Khwāfī, Mujmal-i Faṣīḥī iii, 1070; Samarqandī, Maṭlaʿ-i saʿdayn ii, 205. Qarā Yūsuf’s undated letter to Shāh Rukh found in MS SP 1815 (Paris, BnF) and published by Navāʾī, Asnād 167–8 (see note 23) seems to correspond with the contents evoked by the Persian sources. If the identification is correct, it can be dated accordingly to the end of 817/beginning of 1415. In this letter, Qarā Yūsuf addressed Shāh Rukh as if he was his subordinate, opting for words that recognized the high rank of Shāh Rukh. Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Zudbat al-tavārīkh ii/1, 577. See also Faṣīḥ Khwāfī, Mujmal-i Faṣīḥī iii, 1072; Samarqandī, Maṭlaʿ-i saʿdayn ii, 211. Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Zudbat al-tavārīkh ii/1, 585–6. See also Faṣīḥ Khwāfī, Mujmal-i Faṣīḥī iii, 1072; Samarqandī, Maṭlaʿ-i saʿdayn ii, 215; Sümer, Kara Koyunlular 94–5; Aka, İran’da Türkmen 12. The letter is found in MS SP 1815 (Paris, BnF), published by Navāʾī, Asnād 167–8. It seems that the copy in the manuscript is defective and that Navāʾī emended the lacunae on the basis of another source, though he does not say so. The same letter is in fact to be found in a epistolary collection (munshaʾa) contemporary with the events reported here as it was compiled (or completed) in 834/1430–1 (see Storey, Persian Literature, 251–2): Yūsufi Ahl’s Farāʾid-i Ghiyāthī i, 190–3. The letter is dated, as it seems to have been a common practice in Qara Qoyunlu chancery rules, at the beginning of the text, after the protocol, with indication of the day and the month only (25 Muḥarram). The year can be found easily because the letter, which is a letter of response, mentions Shāh Rukh’s envoy, Ḥasankā (Ḥasanak in Yūsuf-i Ahl’s Farāʾid-i Ghiyāthī i, 191; in Navāʾī, Asnād 172, erroneously read Chinggīz Bahādur). Thanks to the letter we also learn that Ḥasankā was accompanied by another envoy whose name was Ḥājjī Kūchuk.

diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat

447

(ʿahd) and contract (mīthāq), expressing his wishes that it will not be broken under any circumstances.83 He then proceeds with his request which is to see the territories that were previously under the Jalayirid Shaykh Uways’ rule granted to him. He further strengthens that he will regularly send envoys and gifts from Egypt and Syria to Shāh Rukh because his authority encompasses Syria and its environs. He concludes the letter by stating that other details will be directly discussed by his envoy, Mardānshāh. Qarā Yūsuf clearly wanted to see his authority on the territories that he had conquered acknowledged by Shāh Rukh and was ready, to achieve this goal, to recognize the Timurid ruler as his overlord. If Sulṭāniyya is not mentioned in the letter, the granting of the city must have been evoked by Mardānshāh. Sulṭāniyya had belonged to the Jalayirids before being lost to Bisṭām and could thus be regarded as being part of the domain of the former rulers of Baghdad, a territory that Qarā Yūsuf claimed for himself. Qarā Yūsuf’s offer to play the role of an intermediary between Shāh Rukh and the Mamluks is also significant in the way he considered his position between the two major states of the region. How did Shāh Rukh react to this discourse? According to the Timurid sources, he was poised to strike a deal with Qarā Yūsuf provided that the latter would send his own son in order to show his determination.84 Qarā Yūsuf does not appear to have appreciated his conditions as his immediate reaction was to marshal his army and to head for Sulṭāniyya with the obvious intent to conquer the city.85 Its ruler, Bisṭām, feared for his life and left the fortress in the hands of his son, fleeing to Qum to seek help from Saʿdi Vaqqāṣ. Against all odds, the latter had Bisṭām arrested and chained. Then he dispatched a letter to Shāh Rukh asking for further instructions.86 Shāh Rukh’s 83

84 85

86

Yūsuf-i Ahl, Farāʾid-i Ghiyāthī i, 191. The letter quotes a variation of two Qurʾānic verses in this respect: law bussat al-jibāl “if the mountains should crumble” (al-Wāqiʿa, 56:5) and aw inshaqqat al-samāʾ “or heaven should be split” (al-Ḥāqqa, 69:16). Unfortunately, it is impossible, on the basis of the sole indication given by this letter, to determine who asked for the truce to be negotiated. If we consider that Qarā Yūsuf’s letter that reached Shāh Rukh at the end of 817/beginning of 1415 corresponded to the opening of the negotiation, then Qarā Yūsuf can be regarded as the one who requested the conclusion of a truce. Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Zubdat al-tavārīkh ii/1, 585 (bī tafakkur va-taraddud bih istiẓhār-i tamām pisar-i khūd-rā pīsh-i mā firistad). In Rabīʿ II 818/beginning of June–July 1415, one month after Qarā Yūsuf seized Sulṭāniyya, Qarā Yūsuf’s son, Shāh-Muḥammad, who was in charge of Baghdad, also lead a military campaign in Persian Iraq against the fortress of Shushtar. The city, like Wāsiṭ and Bassora, was ruled by Jalayirid princes who had recognized Shāh Rukh as their overlord. The attack proved to be unsuccesful. See al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iv, 317; Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr iii, 73. The letter reached Shāh Rukh on 10 Rabīʿ I 818/20 May 1415, which helps to date Qarā Yūsuf’s action against Sulṭāniyya shortly before. Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Zubdat al-tavārīkh ii/1, 588.

448

bauden

answer was full of anger against his great-nephew who, by his ill-considered backlash, was ruining his efforts to conceil the goodwill of one of Qarā Yūsuf’s former allies who had just honoured him by paying his respects to him in Herat. He ordered Saʿd-i Vaqqāṣ to immediately release Bisṭām and provide him with troops and financial means to help him regain Sulṭāniyya, which, in the meantime, had fallen in Qarā Yūsuf’s hands. Once again, Saʿd-i Vaqqāṣ behaved unexpectedly. Badly advised by his entourage, who appears to have driven him to act so unwisely, he took Bisṭām with him and he defected to Qarā Yūsuf.87 For the contemporary historians, Saʿd-i Vaqqāṣ’s behavior remains impenetrable and they fail to provide any explanation. Manz has argued that he probably feared that Qum would be Qarā Yūsuf’s next military goal.88 Other elements need to be taken into consideration here. Saʿd-i Vaqqāṣ belonged to the lineage of Tīmūr’s son, Jahāngīr, who was, with his brother Jahānshāh, the only sons born to Tīmūr from a free wife.89 Tīmūr designated Saʿd-i Vaqqāṣ’s father, Muḥammad-Sulṭān, as his heir apparent, before 801/1398, passing over his eldest sons, Mīrānshāh and Shāh Rukh, and thus showing his preference for the descendants of his son Jahāngīr.90 Saʿd-i Vaqqāṣ was also among the children that Tīmūr requested to be brought to Erzurum, at the end of his Anatolian conquest (Spring 805/1403), to attend the funeral cortege of their father, Muḥammad-Sulṭān, an event described as particularly wrenching for those children.91 Born in ca. 801/1398–9, Saʿd-i Vaqqāṣ was only about four years old at that time.92 In the light of these elements, Saʿd-i Vaqqāṣ’s decision to join Qarā Yūsuf could be seen as an attempt to contest his uncle’s rule. Whatever the case may be, his defection was seen by other local rulers and Timurid governors in Fars as a sign of Qarā Yūsuf’s rise in power and they created several disruptions in the region that called for Shāh Rukh’s second campaign in Fars a year later.93 87

88

89 90

91 92 93

Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Zudbat al-tavārīkh ii/1, 588–9; Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Jughrāfiyā ii, 366. See also Faṣīḥ Khwāfī, Mujmal-i Faṣīḥī iii, 1072–3; Samarqandī, Maṭlaʿ-i saʿdayn ii, 216; Khwāndamīr, Ḥabīb al-siyar iii, 593 = trans. Thackston 329; Sümer, Kara Koyunlular 94–5. She also sees another reason of his erratic reaction in Bisṭām’s attitude in the past (he switched his allegiance from the Jalayirids to Qarā Yūsuf, then to the Timurids, first Iskandar, followed by Shāh Rukh). Manz, Power 132–3. Woods, Timur’s genealogy 112. Woods, Timur’s genealogy 133; Soucek, Ibrāhīm Sulṭān 28. After Muḥammad-Sulṭān’s death (805/1403), Tīmūr appears to have chosen Pīr Muḥammad, another son of Jahāngīr, as heir apparent. Soucek, Ibrāhīm Sulṭān 26. According to Yazdī, Ẓafarnāma ii, 1340, he was six years old at Tīmūr’s death (d. 807/1405). See also Khwāndamīr, Ḥabīb al-siyar iii, 541 = trans. Thackston 299. Manz, Power 132 and 163.

diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat

449

As for Qarā Yūsuf, he warmly welcomed the Timurid offspring with his prisoner. Rather than chastising Bisṭām for his defection, he released him in a wise political maneuver: Bisṭām was certainly more useful to his plans alive than dead. He also charged Bisṭām’s son, Akhī Faraj, to ride, with some Turkmens, to Qum in order to fetch Saʿd-i Vaqqāṣ’s family.94 The latter’s wife, Rajab-Sulṭān (also called Āqā Bīgī), was the daughter of Mīrānshāh who had been killed by Qarā Yūsuf. She valiently refused to join his husband in Tabriz, and ordered that her husband’s reckless advisers be killed. She also wrote a letter to Shāh Rukh to inform him of her actions and for which the Timurid ruler praised her.95 Saʿdi Vaqqāṣ thus remained alone in Qarā Yūsuf’s hands until his death, news of which reached Shāh Rukh at the beginning of Rabīʿ I 821/mid-April 1418.96 94

95

96

Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Zudbat al-tavārīkh ii/1, 589–91; Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Jughrāfiyā ii, 366–7. See also Faṣīḥ Khwāfī, Mujmal-i Faṣīḥī iii, 1073; Samarqandī, Maṭlaʿ-i saʿdayn ii, 217; Khwāndamīr, Ḥabīb al-siyar iii, 593 = trans. Thackston 329. The following slightly adapted verse of al-Mutanabbī was declaimed on that occasion: law kāna l-nisāʾ bi-mithl hādhī la-fuḍḍilat al-nisāʾ ʿalā l-rijāl (“Were all women like this one, women would be superior to men”). Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Zubdat al-tavārīkh ii/1, 591 and note 1 for the original verse in al-Mutanabbī’s Dīwān. See also Manz, Women 129–30. Ḥāfīẓ-i Abrū, Zubdat al-tavārīkh ii/2, 673–4. See Faṣīḥ Khwāfī, Mujmal-i Faṣīḥī iii, 1082; Samarqandī, Maṭlaʿ-i saʿdayn ii, 254–5; Khwāndamīr, Ḥabīb al-siyar iii, 602 = trans. Thackston 334. Bakiev, Comparative analysis 173, affirms that, according to the Mujmal-i Faṣīḥ (trans. 178), Saʿd-i Vaqqāṣ died between 14–27 August 1418 (thus the second decade of Rajab 821). The source in question does not say anything of this kind, rather that his death took place at an unspecified moment during 820/1417–8, not 821. The month preceding the announcement of Saʿd-i Vaqqāṣ’s death, an envoy from Qarā Yūsuf was received by Shāh Rukh (at least shortly before the month of Ṣafar/March when he was allowed to return to his master), but no information about the aim of that mission is available. Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Zudbat al-tavārīkh ii/2, 672. See also Samarqandī, Maṭlaʿ-i saʿdayn ii, 254. But the concomitance of this embassy with Saʿd-i Vaqqāṣ’s death, at the age of 20, is, to say the least, curious. As for Saʿd-i Vaqqāṣ’s descendance, he had only one daughter named Īsiya (also Āsiya) Bīgī with his wife Rajab-Sulṭān, according to an anonymous work consisting of a genealogical tree of the Chinggisids and Timurids (Muʿizz al-ansāb), a work commissioned by Shāh Rukh in 830/1426–7 and thought to have been authored by Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, at least the first part of it, before the additional parts that cover the period from his death in 833/1430 until the beginning of the tenth/sixteenth century were made to it (see Binbaş, Intellectual Networks 246–7; Binbaş, Structure and Function 517–21; on the work in general see Ando, Timuridische Emire). See Muʿizz al-ansāb 137; MS Persan 67 (Paris, BnF), fol. 118a; MS Or. 14306 (London, BL), 168; see also Woods, The Timurid dynasty 29, and chart 1 below. For the sake of completeness, it must be stressed that there is a mention of two sons and one grandson of a Saʿd in Faṣīh Khwāfī’s Mujmal-i Faṣīḥī (iii, 1098). The author specifies that they were made prisoners, together with Qarā Yūsuf’s son Iskandar and some of his brothers, by Shāh Rukh during his campaign in Azerbaijan in 824/1421. The editor of the text identifies this Saʿd with Saʿd-i Vaqqāṣ, by adding the second part of his name between square brackets, but without providing any evidence for this identification.

450

bauden

Between his seizure of Sulṭāniyya97 and Shāh Rukh’s campaign in Azerbaijan at the end of 823/1420, Qarā Yūsuf spent his time on consolidating his territories with the building of new fortresses or the repair of the old ones, and on giving fight to his other enemy on the western fringe of his domain, Qarā ʿUthmān, the Aq Qoyunlu ruler.98 In 823/1420, Shāh Rukh, buoyed by his successes to impose his rule over his pretenders over the last few years, made two last attempts at curbing Qarā Yūsuf’s ambition. At the beginning of the year, when he had decided that he could not remain idle in front of an increasingly more powerful enemy, he sent Qarā Yūsuf an envoy with a message that invited him to give up his rebellion against him.99 Qarā Yūsuf’s stubborness in refusing to accept a settlement with Shāh Rukh led to the military campaign that was launched after the summer. Shortly before the inevitable confrontation, Shāh Rukh still tried to play the diplomatic game: he proposed to Qarā Yūsuf to conclude a truce by virtue of which the Qara Qoyunlu would surrender three cities, including Sulṭāniyya and Qazwīn. In exchange, he offered to recognize his rule over Azerbaijan, Arab Iraq, and Syria up to the borders of Anatolia. Piqued by such a request, Qarā Yūsuf had the envoy clapped in irons.100 Qarā Yūsuf did not live long enough to take part in the hostilities because of his untimely death, just before the battle (7 Dhū l-Qaʿda 823/13 November 1420). 5.2 Qara Qoyunlu-Jöchid Diplomatic Exchanges Qarā Yūsuf’s reconstructed letter also made reference to the receipt of envoys and letters from the Golden Horde. The formula used to allude to it (lines 21–2:

97

98

99 100

Confirmed by the coins issued there in his name in 818/1415–6. See Album, A hoard 138 (no. 23). Qarā Yūsuf kept control over Sulṭāniyya as well as Qazwīn until his death (823/1420). Ibid. 137. Qarā ʿUthmān’s first diplomatic contact with Shāh Rukh is attested in 819/1416, but his envoy was intercepted by Qarā Yūsuf, who transmitted the message to the Ottoman Meḥmed I. In his message, Qarā ʿUthmān pledged to provide support to Shāh Rukh’s attack against Qarā Yūsuf with the cooperation of Mamluk governors in Syria and various other local rulers. In 821/1418, a second envoy finally reached Herat with a message whose content is unknown but that must not have been so different from the first. As Woods put it, Qarā ʿUthmān’s “promise of extensive support in the west lent a fillip to Shahrukh’s decision to invade Azerbayjan in 1420/823 for the first time”. See Woods, The Aqquyunlu 47. It appears that al-Muʾayyad Shaykh also contacted Shāh Rukh with the same promise. See below, the section on the Qara Qoyunlu-Mamluk diplomatic exchanges. Ḥāfīẓ-i Abrū, Zubdat al-tavārīkh ii/2, 711–2. See also Samarqandī, Maṭlaʿ-i saʿdayn ii, 272–4; Khwāndamīr, Ḥabīb al-siyar iii, 604 = trans. Thackston 335. Ḥāfīẓ-i Abrū, Zubdat al-tavārīkh ii/2, 722. See also Samarqandī, Maṭlaʿ-i saʿdayn ii, 276–7; Faṣīḥ Khwāfī, Mujmal-i Faṣīḥī iii, 1093; Khwāndamīr, Ḥabīb al-siyar iii, 606 = trans. Thackston 336.

diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat

451

“Also reached us from the sultans of the lands of Berke Khān—may God elucidate his proof—envoys and letters”) may reflect the political instability that prevailed in that region at that time. Tīmūr’s third campaign had weakened the position of the Jöchid khan Toqtamish (r. 778–97/1377–95). One of the latter’s amirs, Edigü, took advantage of the situation to impose himself as the effective ruler of the ulus and to exercise power in the name of Chinggisid puppet-rulers, particularly after the deaths of Tīmūr (807/1405) and Toqtamish (808/1406).101 Between 797/1395, the year Toqtamish was replaced by Tīmūr Qutlugh b. Tīmūr Malik, and 822/1419 (Edigü’s death), at least ten princes from two branches of the Jöchid family (Tīmūr Malik and Toqtamish) ruled, sometimes simultaneously. This situation may have prompted Qarā Yūsuf to mention the “sultans” of the lands of Berke Khān. The year Qarā Yūsuf’s letter was issued (818/1415), two khans were presiding over the fate of the Golden Horde: Kebek, son of Toqtamish,102 and Čakrī, a puppet Chinggisid from the Togha-Timurid branch,103 whom Edigü had installed on the throne in 816/1414. After three years, Čakrī was replaced by Darwīsh.104

101

102

103

104

On Edigü’s career, see Spuler, Die Goldene Horde 136–54, and more recently, Favereau, La Horde d’Or 196–7; on the fame he reached in later centuries, particularly in local popular tales, see DeWeese, Islamization 336–52. His biography in al-Maqrīzī, Durar al-ʿuqūd al-farīda i, 432–6 (no. 353), a source that was only made available recently and that has largely been ignored by specialists of the Golden Horde, is also worthy of some attention. The dates of his reign are uncertain and this remark is valid for most rulers of the Golden Horde of that period. Spuler, Die Goldene Horde 454, gives 817/1414–5. According to Ağat, Altınordu (Cuçi Oğulları) Paraları Kataloğu 113, he ruled between 815/1413 and 819/1416 (in fact, he says 1414–6 but the first date is erroneous as 815 corresponds to years 1412–3), but the coins struck in his name are dated between 817/1414–5 and 819/1416–7. According to Frank, The western steppe 239, his name is found on coins struck between 817/1414 and 820/1418, though, as stated by other sources, Kebek was killed by one of his brothers in 819/1416. See more recently, on the basis of numismatic evidence, for the years 817–9/1414– 7, Reva and Kazarov, Ulus Dzhuchi. For the chronology of the Jöchids in general, Gaev, Genealogiya. According to Frank, The western steppe 239. The Shajarat al-Atrāk 240 rather says that he was the son of Toqtamish, while for al-Qirimī, ʿUmdat al-akhbār, fol. 273a, he lived in Turkestan and was a descendant of Shaybān. If we give credit to the Bavarian traveler Johann Hans Schiltberger (1380–ca. 1440), who spent several years in the region, Čakrī, whom he names Tzeggra/Zeggra, was living in the Timurid Abā Bakr b. Mīrānshāh’s (d. 811/1409) company when he was asked to return home at Edigü’s request. Schiltberger was part of his retinue when he traveled back to the steppes. See Schiltberger, Reisebuch 37 and 39 = trans. 33 and 35. For Spuler, Die Goldene Horde 153–4, Čakrī “hat offenbar keine Bedeutung erlangt.” Al-Qirimī, ʿUmdat al-akhbār, ibid. For Schiltberger, he ruled only for nine months, but regained power after several others of his successors. Schiltberger, Reisebuch 41–2 = trans. 36–7.

452

bauden

The coins struck in his name span the three years of his theoretical rule, confirming the data provided by al-Qirimī (eighteenth c.), and cover a wide array of regions, showing that Edigü’s power expanded from the Crimea to Dashti Qipchaq.105 If Qarā Yūsuf decided to mention the existence of diplomatic exchanges with the Golden Horde to the Mamluk sultan, it was for a good reason: he wished to boast about his position in the political and military arena. Of course he knew that the rulers of the Golden Horde still enjoyed the highest status in Mamluk perception, a status confirmed by the chancery rules,106 but also that they were the main providers of Tatar slaves. Even though the relations between the Mamluks and the Jöchids had waned during the second part of the eighth/fourteenth century, the former restored diplomatic contacts with the latter under Toqtamish’s rule.107 In Rabīʿ II 818/mid-June 1415, four months before receiving Qarā Yūsuf’s letter, the Mamluk chancery requested that Ibn Ḥijja write a letter addressed to Čakrī, the ruler of the Golden Horde, to inform him that al-Muʾayyad Shaykh was enthroned in 815/1412 and to invite him to dispatch envoys and merchants, by which one must understand slave merchants.108 As noted by several scholars, the number of Tatar or Qipchak slaves significantly declined at the beginning of the ninth/fifteenth century. Though it has been claimed that their decrease in favor of Circassians might have been linked to the power shift witnessed by the Mamluk sultanate with Barqūq’s accession at the end of the eighth/fourteenth century, it has recently been determined, thanks to corroborative data for the Italian markets, that the shift away from Tatar/Qipchak slaves was due to a deficit in supply that can be

105

106 107 108

Coins struck in Azāq (Tana, act. Azov) in 816, 818, Bīk Bāzārī (coins were struck at that mint for the first time under Čakrī Khan; Pachkalov, O Monetakh “Bik-Bazara,” proposes to place the mint in the Lower Volga region or the Lower Dnieper region) in 818, Bulghār in 817, Sarāy in 818, Sarāy al-Jadīda in 816, Ḥājjī Tarkhān (Astrakhan, right bank of the Volga on the Caspian sea, approx. 12 km north of the modern city of the same name) in 816, 817, 818, Urdū, Urdū Bāzār, Urdū Muʿaẓẓam (i.e., the army market, capital of the Dashti Qipchaq) in 816, 817. See Fraehn, Numi Muhammedani 378–9; Fraehn, Die Münzen 34; Ağat, Altınordu (Cuçi Oğulları) Paraları 114–5; Mayer, Sylloge 28. See Dekkiche’s article in this volume, table 3.10. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā vii, 299–301, took note of a letter he composed during alNāṣir Faraj’s reign in 812/1409–10. See also Spuler, Die Goldene Horde 141–2. Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 119–24 (no. 30). The letter composed by Ibn Ḥijja was deemed too impressive to be sent with the designated envoy and was archived in the chancery for a future embassy. In the wake of this decision, Ibn Ḥijja was asked to pen another letter (ibid., 124–8, no. 31) that was eventually dispatched with the designated envoy. Considering that Čakrī Khān died the same year (818/1415–6), the first letter was probably never sent.

diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat

453

dated to al-Nāṣir Faraj’s reign, i.e., in the first decade of the ninth/fifteenth century.109 Though various reasons may be invoked to explain this shift, one key element must have been Edigü’s decision, as reported by al-Maqrīzī, to prevent the Tatars/Qipchaks from selling their children.110 Needless to say, Qarā Yūsuf was aware of Edigü’s order and may have acted as a broker card in this respect.111 In his 819/1416 letter, Qarā Yūsuf stressed that his military actions contributed to the restoration of peace in his territories, thereby benefiting the merchants and caravans.112 Another reason that could have induced him to refer to his diplomatic ties with the Golden Horde was an event that took place almost a year and a half later. In the winter of 819/1416, Edigü’s wife reached Damascus with a retinue of 300 horsemen; her intention was to perform the pilgrimage.113 Such a long trip required preparations and Edigü may have interacted with Qarā Yūsuf to negotiate the passage of the caravan through his territories.114 In his turn, Qarā Yūsuf needed to inform the chancery in Cairo. 5.3 Qara Qoyunlu-Mamluk Diplomatic Exchanges According to Mamluk sources, al-Muʾayyad Shaykh received news of the truce concluded between Qarā Yūsuf and Shāh Rukh at the end of 817/beginning of 1415; this notice apparently concerned him.115 The spies who conveyed the intelligence were ill-informed in some ways, but not completely. If the idea of a truce was in the air, it was only confirmed via the two embassies that were exchanged 109 110

111

112

113 114

115

Barker, Egyptian and Italian merchants 135–6, 414. al-Maqrīzī, Durar al-ʿuqūd al-farīda i, 436 (wa-huwa alladhī manaʿa l-Ṭaṭar min bayʿ awlādihim fa-li-dhālik qalla jalbuhum ilā l-Shām wa-Miṣr); Barker, Egyptian and Italian merchants 183–4, where she quotes al-Sakhāwī whose source was in fact al-Maqrīzī who was contemporary with Edigü. At the announcement of Qarā Yūsuf’s death, al-Muʾayyad Shaykh did not refrain from showing his joy, a reaction that can be interpreted as an indication of his concern to see the commercial flow of commodities restored to friendly hands. See Woods, The Aqquyunlu 244, note 112. Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 201 (wa-hādhā l-ḍaʿīf ṭahhara l-arḍ min hādhā l-jānib min ḥadd al-Furāt ilā ḥudūd Iṣfahān min al-aʿādī wa-l-mufsidīn wa-quṭṭāʿ al-ṭarīq ḥattā amina lmuslimūn min al-tujjār wa-l-qawāfil fī musāfarātihim wa-taraddudātihim). Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iv, 371; Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr iii, 100; Favereau, La Horde d’Or 197. One may consider that Edigü also negotiated directly with the Mamluk sultan by sending a reply to the 818/1415 embassy, but time constraints make such exchanges highly improbable in view of the arrival of Edigü’s wife less than a year and a half after the departure of the Mamluk envoy for the Qipchak lands. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iv, 291; al-Maqrīzī, Durar al-ʿuqūd al-farīda iii, 580; Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ alghumr iii, 40; al-ʿAynī, ʿIqd al-jumān 210. See also Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Nujūm al-zāhira xiv, 25; al-Sakhāwī, al-Ḍawʾ al-lāmiʿ vi, 217. Ibn Taghrī Birdī is the only one to say something about al-Muʾayyad Shaykh’s reaction.

454

bauden

between Shāh Rukh and Qarā Yūsuf, between the end of 817/February–March 1415 and the beginning of 818/April 1415. The Mamluks were also aware that Bisṭām had pledged his allegiance to Shāh Rukh and Sulṭāniyya was now under his (Bisṭām’s) authority.116 Sometimes, Mamluk sources reported information that was not confirmed by Timurid historians. Some information proved false, like Shāh Rukh celebrating the feast of the sacrifice (10 Dhū l-Ḥijja/20 February 1415) in Qazwīn117 while Timurid sources report that on that date he was in Herat, then he left in mid-Dhū l-Ḥijja/25 February 1415 for Sarakhs (north of Herat), to visit the tombs of several shaykhs.118 Two contemporary Mamluk historians even state that the truce between Shāh Rukh and Qarā Yūsuf took place after a battle between them, an event that is completely missing in the works of their Timurid counterparts on the year 817/1415.119 In other cases, Mamluk sources provide details that were ignored by Timurid historians; for example, that Shāh Rukh requested that Qarā Yūsuf give him two specific, named, horses, together with two Timurid princesses (Mīrānshāh’s wife and daughter) that he had taken as spoils and prisoners after the battle that caused Mīrānshāh’s death (810/1408). Shāh Rukh also insisted that Qarā Yūsuf pay him blood money for the deaths of his brother, Mīrānshāh, and his nephew, Abā Bakr, and return their effects to him, and acknowledge his overlordship by striking coins in his name and proclaiming his name at Friday sermons in his territories.120 These requests would have provoked Qarā Yūsuf’s military action.121 Another piece of information that the Mamluk historians were aware of and that their Timurid counterparts passed over in silence regards the fact that the truce was sealed by matrimonial bonds between the two rulers.122 Qarā

116

117 118 119

120

121 122

Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iv, 300 (tasallama madīnat al-Sulṭāniyya); al-Maqrīzī, Durar al-ʿuqūd al-farīda iii, 580 (wa-tasallama Shāh Rukh al-salṭana [sic for al-Sulṭāniyya]: here al-Maqrīzī wrongly places it after the break of the truce); Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr iii, 52 (watasallama Shāh Rukh al-Sulṭāniyya). Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iv, 300; Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr iii, 40; al-ʿAynī, ʿIqd al-jumān 210. Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Zubdat al-tavārīkh 2/1, 575. See also Samarqandī, Maṭlaʿ-i saʿdayn ii, 210. Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr iii, 40 ( fa-fīhā tawāqaʿa Qarā Yūsuf wa-Shāh Rukh); al-ʿAynī, ʿIqd al-jumān 210 (wa-fī hādhihi l-sana waqaʿat wāqiʿa bayna Qarā Yūsuf wa-Shāh Rukh b. Timur Lank thumma iṣṭalaḥā). Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iv, 300; al-Maqrīzī, Durar al-ʿuqūd al-farīda iii, 580; Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ alghumr iii, 52. Qarā Yūsuf was not responsible for Abā Bakr’s death though. He died fighting against one of his kinsmen, the Timurid governor of Kirman. See Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Zubdat altavārīkh ii/1, 255–7; Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Jughrāfyā iii, 204. Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr iii, 52, wrongly places this military action (against Sulṭāniyya) at the end of 817/early 1415. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iv, 291 (wa-taṣāharā); al-Maqrīzī, Durar al-ʿuqūd al-farīda iii, 580

diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat

chart 12.1

455

Partial genealogical tree of Tīmūr’s offspring

Yūsuf’s marriage to a Timurid princess is confirmed by Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, a contemporary of the event.123 The princess, whose name is not known, was a daughter of Abā Bakr b. Mīrānshāh (see chart 12.1).124 Ibn Ḥajar also reports that when Qarā Yūsuf took Mīrānshāh’s wife and daughter as prisoners, he in fact married them.125 It is not improbable that the Mamluk historians mistook Mīrānshāh’s

123 124

125

(idem); Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr iii, 40 (idem). Al-ʿAynī, ʿIqd al-jumān 210, remains silent about this. Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Zubdat al-tavārīkh ii/2, 758–60. See also Faṣīḥ Khwāfī, Mujmal-i Faṣīḥī iii, 1100; Samarqandī, Maṭlaʿ-i saʿdayn ii, 300–1. She was taken prisoner with her servants and, given her young age, Qarā Yūsuf had her educated in his harem, until she reached an age that allowed him to marry her. According to Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, on that occasion, he divorced his other wives out of consideration for her noble origin, a fact that is not supported by other sources. After Qarā Yūsuf’s death, she managed to return to Shāh Rukh, who married her to Khalīl Allāh Darbandī, the Shirvanshah. The Timurid sources only mention her marriage to Qarā Yūsuf on that occasion. See Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Zubdat al-tavārīkh ii/2, 758–60. See also Faṣīḥ Khwāfī, Mujmal-i Faṣīḥī iii, 1100; Samarqandī, Maṭlaʿ-i saʿdayn ii, 300–1; Khwāndamīr, Ḥabīb al-siyar iii, 609. For the fact that Abā Bakr’s harem fell into Qarā Yūsuf’s hands at the battle of Sardrūd (811/1408), see Khwāndamīr, Ḥabīb al-siyar iii, 570. Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr iii, 52 (wa-kāna Qarā Yūsuf qad asarahumā wa-yuqāl innahu tazawwajahumā).

456

bauden

daughter for Abā Bakr’s.126 On the other hand, Shāh Rukh is not known to have wedded any Qara Qoyunlu princess.127 Be that as it may, Qarā Yūsuf did not lose any time in sharing the good news of his successes (Saʿd-i Vaqqāṣ’s defection, his takeover of Sulṭāniyya, the subsequent conclusion of a truce with Shāh Rukh, and the demarcation of the borders of their respective territories)128 with al-Muʾayyad Shaykh, as the reconstructed letter witnesses, with the hope that these favorable outcomes would foster future communication between the two rulers. Despite his enthusiasm, the letter seems to have remained unheeded as his second letter, sent a year later, confirms. As a matter of fact, when he received Qarā Yūsuf’s letter in 819/1416, al-Muʾayyad Shaykh had changed his mind regarding the Qara Qoyunlu ruler, whom he considered a dire threat to his own power in Syria.129 Given his engagement to legitimate his access to power against rivals—first in 817/1414, then in 818/1415—al-Muʾayyad Shaykh’s only solution was to endure Qarā Yūsuf, as long as the latter did not encroach on his territories. The answer penned by Ibn Ḥijja only muddied the waters with the recognition of the bonds that linked the two rulers and the characterization of Qarā ʿUthmān as a common enemy to be defeated.130 It also underlined al-Muʾayyad Shaykh’s own triumph over his rivals and his now undisputed power. Moreover, the Mam-

126

127

128 129 130

If she was too young to be married when she was taken captive (811/1409), as Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū stressed, the year 818/1415, when the truce was concluded with Shāh Rukh, might correspond to the matrimonial bonds reported by the Mamluk historians. Yate, Northern Afghanistan 31; Yate, Inscriptions 293, advances that Shāh Rukh’s wife, Gawhar Shād, was Qarā Yūsuf’s sister, failing to provide any evidence for this, even though it is well known from the Timurid sources that Gawhar-Shād was in fact the daughter of Ghiyāth al-Dīn Tarkhān. See Saljoqi, The gravestone. It is worth mentioning here too that the Byzantine author Chalkokondyles (d. 1490) declares that Qarā Yūsuf’s son, Jahānshāh, was born to a daughter of Muḥammad Jūkī b. Shāh Rukh, thus implying that Qarā Yūsuf had married Shāh Rukh’s granddaughter. As noticed by modern historians, this is out of question: Jahānshāh was born in 799/1397 and Muḥammad Jūkī in 804/1402. The mistake could be the result of a confusion: Muḥammad Jūkī married a daugher of Qarā ʿUthmān, the Aq Qoyunlu, in 839/1435. See Chalkokondyles, Historiarum 166–7 = trans. 274–5 and 513, note 123; Kuršanskis, La Descendance d’ Alexis IV 244–5. The delineation of their respective borders is confirmed by al-ʿAynī, ʿIqd al-jumān 210 (waraḍiya kull wāḥid minhumā bi-mā aʿṭāhu Allāh min al-bilād wa-l-ʿasākir). See Darrag, L’ Égypte 373. In Shaʿbān 818/October 1415, while in Aleppo, al-Muʾayyad Shaykh received a son of Qarā ʿUthmān sent as an envoy to inform the Mamluk sultan that his father had vanquished his enemies and to present him with a gift which was reciprocated with a similar one. See Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr iii, 68.

diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat

457

luk chancery implicitly acknowledged that Qarā Yūsuf ruled over the destiny of the two Iraqs, as Ibn Ḥijja’s description of Qarā Yūsuf’s letter confirms.131 The following year, from Ṣafar/late March to Shawwāl 820/mid-November 1417, al-Muʾayyad Shaykh conducted his third military campaign in Syria with the goal of strengthening the Mamluk positions in the northern marches. The Turkmen client-states of southern Anatolia—the Qaramanids, the Ramadanids, and the Dhulqadirids—threatened the stability of his own realm with numerous incursions of Turkmen soldiers. At the beginning of his campaign, while he was in Ḥiṣn Manṣūr (Adıyaman), al-Muʿayyad Shaykh received, on 27 Jumādā I 820/12 July 1417, Qarā Yūsuf’s answer to the previous letter.132 In addition to the usual expressions of friendship and affection, Qarā Yūsuf reiterated the historic bonds between the two rulers, bonds that went back to the sultanate of al-Nāṣir Faraj. More importantly, Qarā Yūsuf concluded his letter by saying that he was aware that the Egyptian sultan had undertaken a campaign in territories close to his domain and that his envoy, Bābā Ḥamīd al-Dīn, who was also the chief judge of his army, would convey more details about future actions.133 Qarā Yūsuf was probably referring to his [Qarā Yūsuf’s] intention to move against Qarā ʿUthmān. The offensive against the Aq Qoyunlu ruler took place shortly thereafter (end of Jumādā II 820/mid-August 1417) and resulted in Qarā ʿUthmān’s request for protection from al-Muʾayyad Shaykh and, eventually, the conclusion of a truce with Qarā Yūsuf, who returned to Tabriz (4 Shaʿbān 820/16 September 1417).134 When informed of the armistice, the population of Aleppo expressed joy (after their distress at the prospect of invasion

131 132

133 134

Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 198 (wa-mimmā warada ʿalā l-abwāb al-sharīfa al-muʾayyadiyya mithāl Qarā Yūsuf ṣāḥib al-ʿIrāqayn). Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 221–4 (no. 55). The letter was dated 27 Rabīʿ II [820]/13 June 1417 (ibid. 223). According to the Mamluk chronicles (al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iv, 409; Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr iii, 130; al-ʿAynī, ʿIqd al-jumān 291), Qarā Yūsuf’s preceding envoy, who brought the 819/1416 letter to Cairo, accompanied the sultan and his army on his third campaign, leaving the capital on 4 Ṣafar 820/23 March 1417, and was sent back to his master with al-Muʾayyad Shaykh’s answer around 6 Jumādā I 820/21 June 1417. This sequence of events is at odds with the dates given for the redaction and the arrival of Qarā Yūsuf’s answer that reached al-Muʾayyad Shaykh in Ḥisn Manṣūr. At about the same time, two more letters arrived from governors who were under Qarā Yūsuf’s authority: one from his son, Muḥammad-Shāh, governor of Baghdad, and another from Pīr ʿUmar, governor of Erzincan. See al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iv, 410; Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr iii, 130; al-ʿAynī, ʿIqd al-jumān 291. Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 224 (wa-bāqī l-harakāt wa-l-ḥālāt yuqarriruhā qāḍī l-quḍāt Ḥamīd al-Dīn al-mushār ilayhi mushāfahatan lil-masāmiʿ al-sharīfa fī waqt al-furṣa). Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iv, 410 and 417; Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr iii, 131–2; al-ʿAynī, ʿIqd aljumān 292–4.

458

bauden

by Qarā Yūsuf’s army).135 Al-Muʾayyad Shaykh’s answer to Qarā Yūsuf’s 820/1417 letter was only issued shortly afterwards (24 Rajab 820/6 September 1416) and was entrusted to his envoy, Ḥamīd al-Dīn. It contained little information, the main contents having been entrusted to its bearer.136 Al-Muʾayyad Shaykh’s relation with Qarā Yūsuf definitely soured during the next year (821/1418), when the latter chased Qarā ʿUthmān into Mamluk territory. A fatwā, issued by the four chief judges of Cairo and countersigned by the caliph, validated the jihād against Qarā Yūsuf.137 The clash was avoided by Qarā Yūsuf’s retreat, but the ties were definitively broken.138 In the meantime, contacts had been secured between Herat and Cairo. In the course of 822/1419, the Mamluk chancery addressed a letter to Shāh Rukh in which the sultan requested that he attack the Qara Qoyunlu in Azerbaijan.139 In his answer that reached Cairo by courier (sāʿin) on 24 Rabīʿ I 823/8 April 1420,140 the Timurid informed the Mamluk sultan that he was poised to take action against the Qara Qoyunlu, that he was mustering his armies from all parts of his domain, and that he would march toward Azerbaijan as soon as he was ready.141 At the beginning of Dhū l-Qaʿda 823/ November 1420, another Mamluk envoy caught up with Shāh Rukh in Rayy, with yet another letter whose content is unknown.142

135 136 137 138

139

140

141

142

Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iv, 417; Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr iii, 132; al-ʿAynī, ʿIqd al-jumān 295–6. Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 224–6 (no. 56). Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iv, 459–60; Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr iii, 169; al-ʿAynī, ʿIqd al-jumān 319–20. The last documented communication between the two rulers is from Rabīʿ I 823/March 1420, when Qarā Yūsuf demanded that the jewels that al-Muʾayyad Shaykh had taken from him when he was his prisoner in Damascus be restored to him. If need be, he would devastate and conquer the Mamluk territories. See al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iv, 524–5; al-ʿAynī, ʿIqd al-jumān 319–20. The letter is lost and no information is available about the embassy in the Mamluk and Timurid sources. We know of its existence thanks to the letter sent by Shāh Rukh the next year, as he mentions it there. See below, note 146. See Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 316 (wayunhī … anna qāṣid al-ḥaḍra al-sharīfa al-shaykh Sharaf al-Dīn Ibn Burhān al-Muḥtasib qad waṣala fī l-ʿām al-māḍī bi-mulaṭṭafatikum al-karīma wa-hya mushtamila ʿalā … wailtimāsikum masīranā ilā Adharbayjān li-dafʿ al-thulma …). Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iv, 525; al-ʿAynī, ʿIqd al-jumān 385. Al-ʿAynī gives 6 Shawwāl 823/14 October 1420 as the date of arrival of the letter, but this is hardly possible given the next Timurid embassy (see below, note 146). The letter is not preserved but its contents are briefly summarized in a second letter dispatched at the end of the year. See Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 316 (wa-qarrarnā l-ʿazīma ilā l-tawajjuh ilā dhālika l-ṭaraf waqt al-rabīʿ wa-jahhaznā l-Ḥasan al-Sāʿī bi-l-mukātaba ilā l-maqām al-ʿālī). The letter is also lost but its existence is confirmed by Shāh Rukh’s next letter (see below, note 146). See Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 316 (wa-waṣalnā awāʾil Dhī l-Qaʿda al-ḥarām

diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat

459

A few days later (7 Dhū l-Qaʿda 823/13 November 1420), the report of Qarā Yūsuf’s death was announced. Shāh Rukh preferred to wait until the end of the month before dispatching a response to al-Muʾayyad Shaykh. After a digest of the exchanges between Cairo and his chancery, his letter confirms the good news of Qarā Yūsuf’s passing from the mortal world,143 stresses that the territories were pacified and that his wish, for the near future, was to crush the Shirvanshahs and the Turkmens. He also conveyed that his plans were to spend the winter in Qarabagh and head for Ala Dağ for the summer pastures. He then apologized for entrusting his letter to a courier rather than to an envoy,144 but explained that he intended to send back the Mamluk envoy with his ambassador once he reached Qarabagh.145 When Shāh Rukh’s letter arrived in Cairo, at the end of Muḥarram 824/beginning of February 1421, al-Muʾayyad Shaykh had just died (9 Muḥarram 824/14 January 1421). The new sultan, al-Muẓaffar Aḥmad, his infant son, was only twenty months old. Real power laid in the hands of the future usurper Ṭaṭar. At the latter’s request, Ibn Ḥijja penned a response in which he barely concealed the child’s incompetency.146 The secretary did not hide the Mamluks’ relief from the threat that Qarā Yūsuf still represented; they attributed Qarā Yūsuf’s sudden death to his fear of Shāh Rukh. At the same time, the Mamluks could not overlook the fact that the Qara Qoyunlu had received help from the Mamluks on several occasions. Nevertheless, as the letter emphasizes, that generosity was not repaid. Yet, Shāh Rukh’s conquest of Qarā Yūsuf’s territories

143

144 145

146

baldat al-Rayy wa-jāʾanā l-qāṣid min ḥaḍratikum al-sharīfa) and 317 (fa-jāʾa qāṣidukum thāniyan bi-mulaṭṭafa ukhrā). The news it conveyed might have referred to the fact that another fatwā had been issued by the four chief judges and countersigned by the caliph. It endorsed the fact that due to Qarā Yūsuf’s illegal actions, which conflicted with Islamic law, he was an infidel and it was licit to fight him in the frame of a jihād. On these grounds, amirs were summoned to head for Syria and a public call for support was declared on 4 Shaʿbān 823/14 August 1420. See Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr iii, 222–3; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, alNujūm al-zāhira xiv, 99–100. News of Qarā Yūsuf’s death had already been dispatched to Cairo by the Ayyubid sultan of Ḥisn Kayfā, who informed the Mamluk sultan that he had been poisoned. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iv, 432. His name was Maḥmūd, according to Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 315. See Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 315–8 (no. 85). A similar letter was dispatched to Meḥmed I. See Ferīdūn Beg, Mecmūʿa i, 159–61. The use of couriers rather than envoys for both Timurid letters indicates that the goal was to have the news exchanged as quickly as possible. For couriers in the Mamluk period, see Bauden, D’Alexandrie à Damas. Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 319 (wa-qaraʾat aʿyān al-dawla al-sharīfa lammā jalasnā ʿalā lkursī).

460

bauden

created a new political order for the Mamluks. Thus the letter concludes with hope for an auspicious future and for their ever closer relations.147 table 12.6 Diplomatic exchanges between Qarā Yūsuf, Shāh Rukh, and al-Muʾayyad Shaykh between 817/1415 and 824/1421 Sender

Addressee

Qarā Yūsuf Shāh Rukh Qarā Yūsuf

Shāh Rukh Qarā Yūsuf Shāh Rukh

al-Muʾayyad Shaykh Qarā Yūsuf

Qarā Yūsuf

Spring 818/1415

al-Muʾayyad Shaykh

ca. Jumādā II 818/August 1415

Qarā Yūsuf

al-Muʾayyad Shaykh

al-Muʾayyad Shaykh

Qarā Yūsuf

mid-Rajab 819/early September 1416 beg. Muḥarram 820/midFebruary 1417

147 148

149 150 151

152 153 154 155

Date of redaction

Date of arrival

Date of departure

Envoy

end 817/beg. 1415 end Muḥarram 818/beg. April 1415 Summer 818/1415

end 817/beg. 1415 Ḥasankā Mardānshāh

Ref.

148 149 150 151 152

Shaʿbān 818/October 1415 6 Shawwāl 819/27 November 1416 ca. 6 Jumādā I 820/21 June 1417 (?)154

Dankiz

153

Muḥammad alTurkumānī

155

Ibid., 319–20. Shortly later, Shāh Rukh presumably sent a fatḥnāma of which a copy in Persian may be found in Navāʾī, Asnād 208–14. Qarā Yūsuf’s undated letter to Shāh Rukh is found in MS SP 1815 (Paris, BnF) and was published by Navāʾī, Asnād 167–8. See also Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Zudbat al-tavārīkh ii/1, 564; Faṣīḥ Khwāfī, Mujmal-i Faṣīḥī iii, 1070; Samarqandī, Maṭlaʿ-i saʿdayn ii, 205; Rumlū, Aḥsan altavārīkh i, 97. Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Zudbat al-tavārīkh ii/1, 577; Faṣīḥ Khwāfī, Mujmal-i Faṣīḥī iii, 1072; Samarqandī, Maṭlaʿ-i saʿdayn ii, 211. Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Zudbat al-tavārīkh ii/1, 585–6; Faṣīḥ Khwāfī, Mujmal-i Faṣīḥī iii, 1072; Samarqandī, Maṭlaʿ-i saʿdayn ii, 215. The source is the reconstructed letter which was a response to a correspondence addressed by al-Muʾayyad Shaykh to Qarā Yūsuf. The periods indicated for the redaction of the letter and the arrival of the envoy are tentative. Reconstructed letter; al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iv, 329. Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 198–202 (no. 48); al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iv, 368; Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr iii, 130. See note 133. Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 202–7 (no. 49); al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iv, 409; Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ alghumr iii, 130; al-ʿAynī, ʿIqd al-jumān 291.

461

diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat Table 12.6 Diplomatic exchanges between Qarā Yūsuf, Shāh Rukh, and Shaykh (cont.) Sender

Addressee

Date of redaction

Date of arrival

Qarā Yūsuf

al-Muʾayyad Shaykh

27 Rabīʿ II 820/13 June 1417

27 Jumādā I 820/12 July 1417

al-Muʾayyad Shaykh

Qarā Yūsuf

24 Rajab 820/6 September 1417

Qarā Yūsuf

Shāh Rukh

al-Muʾayyad Shaykh

Shāh Rukh

822/1419

Shāh Rukh Shāh Rukh

Qarā Yūsuf al-Muʾayyad Shaykh Qarā Yūsuf

24 Rabīʿ I 823/8 April 1420

Shāh Rukh al-Muʾayyad Shaykh

Shāh Rukh

Shāh Rukh

al-Muʾayyad Shaykh

al-Muẓaffar Aḥmad II

Shāh Rukh

156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165

Date of departure

Envoy

Ref.

Bābā Ḥamīd al-Dīn

156 157 158

beg. Ṣafar 821/March 1418

beg. 823/1420

Shawwāl 823/October

end Dhū l-Qaʿda 823/beg. December 1420 end Muḥarram 824/beg. February 1421

beg. Dhū l-Qaʿda 823/beg. November 1420 end Muḥarram 824/beg. February 1421

Sharaf alDīn Ibn Burhān alMuḥtasib Ṣiddīq al-Ḥasan al-Sāʿī Pāyandah

159

160 161 162 163

Maḥmūd al-Sāʿī

Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 221–4 (no. 55); Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr iii, 130 and 132; al-ʿAynī, ʿIqd al-jumān 291. Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 224–6 (no. 56). Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Zudbat al-tavārīkh ii/2, 672; Samarqandī, Maṭlaʿ-i saʿdayn ii, 254. Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 316. Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Zubdat al-tavārīkh iii, 709–12; Samarqandī, Maṭlaʿ-i saʿdayn ii, 273; Khwāndamīr, Ḥabīb al-siyar iii, 604. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iv, 525; al-ʿAynī, ʿIqd al-jumān 385. Al-ʿAynī erroneously gives 6 Shawwāl 823/14 October 1420 as the date of arrival of the embassy. Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Zubdat al-tavārīkh iii, 722; Samarqandī, Maṭlaʿ-i saʿdayn ii, 277–8; Faṣīḥ Khwāfī, Mujmal-i Faṣīḥī iii, 1093; Khwāndamīr, Ḥabīb al-siyar iii, 607. Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 316. Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 315–8 (no. 85). Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 318–20 (no. 86).

164 165

462 6

bauden

Conclusion

The documents reconstructed in my 2004 article were dramatic in the sense that they were linked to a person who, by petty treason, provoked the fall and death of a would-be sultan. The Qarā Yūsuf letter reassembled, analyzed, and contextualized in this study is no less thrilling.166 These fragments of original documents offer a unique insight into events partially reported by contemporary documentary and narrative sources, sometimes contradictorily. The perusal of copies of documents issued by the Qara Qoyunlu, the Mamluks, and the Timurids, combined with the scrutiny of Arabic and Persian chronicles helps to refine our understanding of these events. The diplomatic study of the preserved Qara Qoyunlu letters from the ninth/ fifteenth century enabled me to identify, in the fragments al-Maqrīzī reused as scrap paper in his holograph manuscripts of al-Muqaffā, a response issued by the Qara Qoyunlu chancery. Some significant parts tally with the structure of three letters of response that were preserved in Ibn Ḥijja’s Qahwat al-inshāʾ, all dated or datable between 820/1417 and 825/1422. The analysis of the structure of the Qara Qoyunlu letters of response, together with a consideration of basic physical features, like line spacing, allowed me to reassemble with some confidence the fourteen fragments and assign each of them to two of the three main parts of letters: the protocol and the text. A document, even one that has been reconstructed, is worthless from the historical point of view if its most suggestive parts are lacking. In this case, several lines provide details that help to identify the issuer, the addressee, and on what basis the letter was produced. The contextualization of the most significant sections, like the mention of the arrival of a Timurid scion, Saʿd-i Vaqqāṣ, was also decisive. Thanks to all these elements, we know that the letter was likely sent in 818/1415 by Qarā Yūsuf, in response to a missive addressed to him by al-Muʾayyad Shaykh. We thus unraveled the context of the diplomatic relations established by the Qara Qoyunlu ruler with the Mamluk sultan. In his correspondence, Qarā Yūsuf never missed an opportunity to remind al-Muʾayyad Shaykh of their historic bonds, built when al-Muʾayyad Shaykh, still governor of Damascus, disobeyed al-Nāṣir Faraj’s order to kill Qarā Yūsuf, who was in his custody, and instead released him and permitted him to reorganize his army. Shaykh’s choice was undoubtedly the result of a careful political calculation designed to work in

166

The reason for their presence in al-Maqrīzī’s holograph manuscripts is addressed in my state of research on diplomatics at the beginning of this volume.

diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat

463

his favor in his ascent to the throne. The move was not ill-advised. In the aftermath of Tīmūr’s death, it was more rewarding to have a free Qarā Yūsuf in the midst of the Timurid scions, as he was someone who was fully engaged in their contention for supreme power. Clearly, from his base in Azerbaijan, Qarā Yūsuf disturbed the balance of power by threatening the major rulers on the eastern and western fringes of his domain. What al-Muʾayyad Shaykh failed to anticipate was Qarā Yūsuf’s growing appetite for power and his lack of gratitude. His continuous incursions into Mamluk territory became a major concern for the ailing sultan. Against all of Shāh Rukh’s expectations, his plans to face the Qara Qoyunlu ruler remained unworkable. On the Timurid side, Qarā Yūsuf took advantage of the power struggle that raged among Tīmūr’s offspring. Step by step, he managed to get rid of his former ally, the Jalayirid Sulṭān Aḥmad, and to take control of his territories, before starting to encroach on Shāh Rukh’s domain. His recurrent intrusions into Persian Iraq and his conquest of Sulṭāniyya and Qazwīn were among his major achievements that raised the concern of the Timurid ruler. Some of Shāh Rukh’s relatives distracted him from addressing other external threats, like the encroachments of Qarā Yūsuf. The situation favored the conclusion of a truce between the two rulers. The negotiations, spanning 817–18/early 1415, should have led to a deal in which Qarā Yūsuf recognized Shāh Rukh’s suzerainty. In exchange, the Qara Qoyunlu ruler would be granted authority over his territories. Other requests—the restitution of Timurid princesses on the Timurid side; the hand-over of Sulṭāniyya on the Qara Qoyunlu side—seem to have thwarted the chances for a truce. The dramatic event that took place in the fallout— Saʿd-i Vaqqāṣ’s defection to Qarā Yūsuf that led to his conquest of Sulṭāniyya, critical circumstances that Qarā Yūsuf did not fail to report to al-Muʾayyad Shaykh in the reconstructed letter and in the letter he addressed to him the following year—changed the perspective. If we are to give credit to Qarā Yūsuf’s words in his letters to the Mamluk sultan, a truce was finally concluded with the Timurid ruler, but once he was in a stronger position to negotiate, i.e., after Saʿd-i Vaqqāṣ’s desertion and his subsequent conquest of Sulṭāniyya. The truce validated the respective borders of the two rulers and was sealed by marriage bonds—these are confirmed on the Qara Qoyunlu side. If the following years were marked by a relative absence of conflicts between the Timurids and the Qara Qoyunlu, thus confirming the existence of a truce—an untroubled situation he took advantage of to attack Qarā ʿUthmān and the Syrian border—it was not long before Shāh Rukh was upset by the Qara Qoyunlu expansion. In the game of alliances, the balance of power continually shifts. In 822/1419, anxious about the future of the northern Syrian border, al-Muʾayyad Shaykh, whose health was declining, provided a fillip to Shāh Rukh by requesting his

464

bauden

intervention against Qarā Yūsuf. While in a better position to muster his troops and direct them to Tabriz, Shāh Rukh seized the opportunity to revenge his brother, Mīrānshāh—and probably Saʿd-i Vaqqāṣ as well. The untimely death of Qarā Yūsuf, before the engagement, deprived him of his vengeance but allowed him to regain control of Azerbaijan and subdue Qarā Yūsuf’s sons, who then became his vassals. When Shāh Rukh sent news of Qarā Yūsuf’s demise to alMuʾayyad Shaykh, the letter reached Cairo after the latter’s death. In a way, this was the end of a relationship between two major actors of the beginning of the ninth/fifteenth century, actors who owed each other, at least in part, for their ascent to power. There could be no better epilogue to the story.

diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat

figure 12.4

MS Or. 1366c, fol. 15b Courtesy Leiden, Universiteitsbibliotheek

465

466

figure 12.5

bauden

MS Or. 1366c, fol. 16a Courtesy Leiden, Universiteitsbibliotheek

diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat

figure 12.6

MS Or. 1366c, fols. 25a–27b virtually reconstructed Leiden, Universiteitsbibliotheek

467

468

figure 12.7

bauden

MS Or. 1366c, fol. 26b Courtesy Leiden, Universiteitsbibliotheek

diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat

figure 12.8

MS Or. 1366c, fol. 29b Courtesy Leiden, Universiteitsbibliotheek

469

470

figure 12.9

bauden

MS Or. 1366c, fol. 37b Courtesy Leiden, Universiteitsbibliotheek

diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat

figure 12.10

MS Or. 14533, fol. 331b Courtesy Leiden, Universiteitsbibliotheek

471

472

figure 12.11

bauden

MS Or. 14533, fol. 332b Courtesy Leiden, Universiteitsbibliotheek

diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat

figure 12.12

MS Or. 14533, fol. 371b Courtesy Leiden, Universiteitsbibliotheek

473

474

figure 12.13

bauden

MS Or. 14533, fol. 372b Courtesy Leiden, Universiteitsbibliotheek

diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat

figure 12.14

MS Or. 14533, fol. 373b Courtesy Leiden, Universiteitsbibliotheek

475

476

figure 12.15

bauden

MS Or. 14533, fol. 388b Courtesy Leiden, Universiteitsbibliotheek

diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat

figure 12.16

MS Or. 14533, fol. 389a Courtesy Leiden, Universiteitsbibliotheek

477

478

bauden

Bibliography Primary Sources (Handwritten) Anonymous, Muʿizz al-ansāb fī shajarat al-ansāb, MS Or. 14306, London, BL; MS Persan 67, Paris, BnF. Anonymous, Munshaʾa (Arabic), MS Arabe 4440, Paris, BnF. Anonymous, Munshaʾa (Persian), MS Sup. Persan 1825, Paris, BnF. al-Maqrīzī, al-Taʾrīkh al-kabīr al-muqaffā, MSS Or. 1366c and Or. 14533, Leiden, Universiteitsbibliotheek. al-Qirimī, ʿAbd al-Ghaffār, ʿUmdat al-akhbār, MS Esad Efendi 2331, Süleymaniye Kütüphanesi, Istanbul.

Primary Sources (Printed) al-ʿAynī, ʿIqd al-jumān fī taʾrīkh ahl al-zamān: al-ḥawādith wa-l-tarājim min sanat 815h ilā sanat 824h, ed. ʿA. al.-R. al-Qarmūṭ al-Ṭanṭāwī, Cairo 1985. Chalkokondyles, Laonici Chalcocondylae Atheniensis Historiarum Libri Decem, ed. I. Bekker, Bonn, 1843; trans. A. Kaldellis, The Histories, 2 vols., Cambridge, MA 2014. Faṣīḥ Khwāfī, Mujmal-i Faṣīḥī, ed. S.M.N. Nāṣrābādī, 3 vols., Tehran 1386 Sh/2007–8; trans. D.Y. Yusupova, Tashkent 1980. Ferīdūn Beg, Mecmūʿa-yi münşeʾāt-i selāṭīn, 2 vols., Istanbul 1857–9. al-Ghazzī, Luṭf al-samar wa-qaṭf al-thaman min tarājim aʿyān al-ṭabaqa al-ūlā min alqarn al-ḥādiya ʿashar, ed. M. al-Shaykh, 2 vols., Damascus 1981–2. Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Jughrāfiyā-yi Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū: mushtamil bar jughrāfiyā-yi tārīkhī-i diyār-i ʿArab, Maghrib, Andalus, Miṣr va-Shām, ed. Ṣ. Sajjādī, 3 vols., Tehran 1375–7 Sh/1997– 9. Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Muʿizz al-ansāb (Proslavljajuščee genealogii), Russian trans. by A.K. Muminov with facsimile of MS Persan 67, Paris, BnF, Almaty 2006. Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū, Zubdat al-tavārīkh, ed. S.K.Ḥ.S. Javādī, 4 vols., Tehran 1380 Sh/2001. Humāyūn Farrūkh, R. al-D., Farmānī az davrān Abū l-Muẓaffar Jahānshāh Qarā Quyūnlū, in Barrasīhā-yi tārīkhī 5.3 (1349 Sh/1970), 39–51. Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr bi-abnāʾ al-ʿumr, ed. Ḥ. Ḥabashī, 4 vols., Cairo 1969–72, repr. 1994–8. Ibn Ḥijja, Thamarāt al-awrāq, ed. M.A. al-F. Ibrāhīm, Beirut 1987. Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ, ed. R. Veselý, Das Rauschgetränk der Stilkunst oder Qahwat al-inshāʾ von Taqīyuddīn Abū Bakr b. Alī Ibn Ḥiǧǧa al-Ḥamawī al-Azrārī, Berlin 2005. Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Nujūm al-zāhira fī mulūk Miṣr wa-l-Qāhira, 16 vols., Cairo 1929– 72. Ibn Taghrī Birdī, Ḥawādith al-duhūr fī madā l-ayyām wa-l-shuhūr, ed. F.M. Shaltūt, Cairo 1990.

diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat

479

Juvaynī, Tārīkh-i Jahāngushā, ed. M. Qazvīnī, 3 vols., Tehran 1382 Sh/2003–4. Khwāndamīr, Tārīkh-i Ḥabīb al-siyar fī akhbār-i afrād-i bashar, ed. J. al-D. Humāʾī and M. Dabīr-Siyāqī, 4 vols., Tehran 1333 Sh/1954; trans. W.M. Thackston, Habibu’s-siyar, Tome Three, Pt. 1 Genghis Khan–Amir Temür, Cambridge, MA 1994. al-Maqrīzī, Durar al-ʿuqūd al-farīda fī tarājim al-aʿyān al-mufīda, ed. M. al-Jalīlī, 4 vols., Beirut 2002. al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk li-maʿrifat duwal al-mulūk, ed. M.M. Ziyāda and S.ʿA. al-F. ʿĀshūr, 4 vols., Cairo 1934–72. Mecobec‘i, T‘ovma, Patmut‘iwn Lank-T‘amuray ew yajordac‘ iwroc‘ [The History of Tamerlane and His Successors], ed. K. Shahnazarean, Paris 1860; trans. R. Bedrosian, T‘ovma Metsobets‘i’s History of Tamerlane and His Successors, New York 1987. al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā fī ṣināʿat al-inshāʾ, ed. M.ʿA. al-Q. Ḥātim, 14 vols., Cairo 1913–9, 21963. al-Saḫāwī, al-Ḍawʾ al-lāmiʿ li-ahl al-qarn al-tāsiʿ, 12 vols., Cairo 1934–6. al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim fī ṣināʿat al-kātib wa-l-kātim al-maʿrūf bi-ism al-Maqṣid al-rafīʿ al-munshaʾ al-hādī li-dīwān al-inshāʾ lil-Khālidī, ed. A.M. Anas Mursī, 2 vols., Cairo 2009. Samarqandī, Maṭlaʿ-i saʿdayn va-majmaʿ-i baḥrayn, ed. ʿA. al-Ḥ. Navāʾī, 2 vols., Tehran 1383 Sh/2004. Schiltberger, J., Reisebuch, nach der Nürnberger Handschrift herausgegeben, ed. V. Langmantel, Tübingen 1885; trans. J. Buchan Telfer and P. Bruun, The bondage and travels of Johann Schiltberger, a native of Bavaria, in Europe, Asia, and Africa, 1396–1427, London 1879. Shajarat al-Atrāk, trans. Col. W. Miles, The Shajrat ul Atrak, or Genealogical tree of the Turks and Tatars, London 1838. al-Ṭayyibī, Jāmiʿ maḥāsin kitābat al-kuttāb, ed. Ṣ. al-D. al-Munajjid with black-andwhite facsimile, Beirut 1962; ed. ʿA. al-ʿA. b. N. al-Māniʿ with color facsimile, Riyadh 2015. Yazdī, Sharaf al-Dīn, Ẓafarnāma, ed. S.S. Muḥammad Ṣādiq and ʿA. al-Ḥ. Navāʾī, 2 vols. Tehran 1387 Sh/2008. Yūsuf-i Ahl, Jalāl al-Dīn, Farāʾid-i Ghiyāthī, ed. Ḥ. Muʾayyad, 2 vols., Tehran 2536–8/1977– 9.

Secondary Sources Ağat, N., Altınordu (Cuçi Oğulları) Paraları Kataloğu, 1250–1502: Ek Olarak Şecere ve Tarih Düzeltmeleri, Istanbul 1976. Aka, İ., İran’da Türkmen Hâkimiyeti (Kara Koyunlular Devri), Ankara 2001. Album, S., A hoard of silver coins from the time of Iskandar Qarā-Qoyūnlū, in Numismatic Chronicle 16 (1976), 109–57. Ando, S., Timuridische Emire nach dem Muʿizz al-ansāb: Untersuchung zur Stammesaristokratie Zentralasiens im 14. und 15. Jahrhundert, Berlin 1992.

480

bauden

Aubin, J., Note sur quelques documents Aq-Qoyunlu. Archives persanes commentées, I, in Mélanges Louis Massignon, vol. 1, Damascus 1956, 123–47. Aubin, J., Un Soyurghal Qara-Qoyunlu concernant le bulūk de Bawānāt-Harāt-Marwast (Archives persanes commentées 3), in S.M. Stern (ed.), Documents from Islamic chanceries, Oxford 1965, 159–70. Bakiev, A., Comparative analysis of Timurids [sic] genealogy in historiography, in A. Kara, and Ö. Işbilir (eds.), Ölümünün 600. Yılında Emir Timur ve Mirası Uluslararası Sempozyumu = International Symposium on Amir Timur and His Heritage in the 600. Death Anniversary, 26–27 Mayıs 2005, Istanbul 2007, 165–76. al-Baqlī, M., Fahāris Kitāb Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā fī ṣināʿat al-inshāʾ lil-Qalqashandī, Cairo 1972. Barker, H., Egyptian and Italian merchants in the Black Sea slave trade, 1260–1500, PhD dissertation, Columbia University 2014. Bauden, F., Al-Maqrīzī’s Collection of Opuscules: An Introduction, Leiden and Boston, forthcoming. Bauden, F., D’Alexandrie à Damas et retour. La poste privée à l’époque mamlouke à la lumière d’une commission accomplie pour le compte d’un Vénitien (821A.H./1418 È.C.), in U. Vermeulen and K. D’hulster (eds.), Egypt and Syria in the Fatimid, Ayyubid and Mamluk eras, VI. Proceedings of the 14th and 15th International Colloquium Organized at the Katholieke Universiteit Leuven in May 2005 and May 2006, Leuven, Paris, Walpole, MA 2010, 157–89. Bauden, F., Maqriziana X: al-Maqrīzī and his al-Taʾrīkh al-Kabīr al-Muqaffā li-Miṣr. Part 1: An inquiry into the history of the work, in S. Massoud (ed.), Studies in Islamic historiography: Essays in honour of Professor Donald P. Little, Leiden and Boston, forthcoming. Bauden, F., The recovery of Mamlūk chancery documents in an unsuspected place, in M. Winter and A. Levanoni (eds.), The Mamluks in Egyptian and Syrian Politics and Society, Leiden and Boston 2004, 59–76. Bauden, F., Les Relations diplomatiques entre les sultans mamlouks circassiens et les autres pouvoirs du Dār al-islām. L’apport du ms. ar. 4440 (BNF, Paris), in AI 41 (2007), 1–29. Ben Azzouna, N., La Question des niveaux de production à travers trois études de « codicologie comparée » (Iraq, Iran occidental, XIIIe–XIVe s.), in JIM 6 (2015), 133– 56. Binbaş, İ.E., Intellectual networks in Timurid Iran: Sharaf al-Dīn ʿAlī Yazdī and the islamicate republic of letters, Cambridge 2016. Binbaş, İ.E., Structure and function of the genealogical tree in Islamic historiography (1200–1500), in Binbaş and N. Kılıç-Schubel (eds.), Horizons of the world: Festschrift for İsenbike Togan = Hudûdü’l-Âlem: İsenbike Togan’a Armağan, Istanbul 2011, 465– 544. Broadbridge, A.F., Kingship and ideology in the Islamic and Mongol worlds, Cambridge 2008.

diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat

481

Busse, H., Untersuchungen zum islamischen Kanzleiwesen an Hand Turkmenischer und Safawidischer Urkunden, Cairo 1959. Darrag, A., L’Égypte sous le règne de Barsbay (825–841/1422–1438), Damascus 1961. Dekkiche, M., The letter and its response: The exchanges between the Qara Qoyunlu and the Mamluk sultan: MS Arabe 4440 (BnF, Paris), in Arabica 63 (2016), 579– 626. DeWeese, D., Islamization and native religion in the Golden Horde: Baba Tükles and conversion to Islam in historical and epic tradition, University Park, PA 1994. Dhabīḥī, M., Dū sanad az Gurgān, in Majallah-yi Rāhnāma-yi Kitāb 15 (1351 Sh/1972), 311–4. Dozy, R.P.A., Supplément aux dictionnaires arabes, 2 vols., Leiden 1881. Ehlers, E., Ālā Dāḡ, in EIr, London 1982–, i, 769. Favereau, M. and J. Raymond, La Horde d’Or: les héritiers de Gengis Khan, Lascelles 2014. Fekete, L., Einführung in die persische Paläographie: 101 Dokumente, ed. G. Hazai, Budapest 1977. Fraehn, C.M., Die Münzen der Chane vom Ulus Dschutschi’s oder von der Goldenen Horde, St. Petersburg and Leipzig 1852. Fraehn, C.M., Numi Muhammedani, qui in Academiae Imperialis Scientiarum Petropolitanae, Museo Asiatico asservantur. Tomus I, St. Petersburg 1826. Frank, A.J., The western steppe: Volga-Ural region, Siberia and the Crimea, in N. Di Cosmo, A.J. Frank, and P.B. Golden (eds.), The Cambridge history of Inner Asia: The Chinggisid age, Cambridge 2009, 237–59. Gaev, A.G., Genealogiya i Khronologiya Dzhuchidov. K Vyyasneniyu Rodosloviya Numizmaticheski Zafiksirovannykh Pravitelei Ulusa Dzhuchi, in Drevnosti Povolzh’ya i Drugikh Regionov IV/3 (2002), 9–55. Gacek, A., Arabic manuscripts. A vademecum for readers, Leiden and Boston 2009. Gully, A., The culture of letter-writing in pre-modern Islamic society, Edinburgh 2008. Humbert, G., Papiers non filigranés utilisés au Proche-Orient jusqu’en 1450. Essai de typologie, in JA 286 (1998), 1–54. Kalus, L., and F. Soudan, Thesaurus d’épigraphie islamique, 14e livraison, Geneva 2017 (http://www.epigraphie‑islamique.org/epi). Kuršanskis, M., La Descendance d’Alexis IV, empereur de Trébizonde: contribution à la prosopographie des Grands Comnènes, in Revue des études byzantines 37 (1979), 239–47. Manz, B.F., Power, politics and religion in Timurid Iran, Cambridge 2007. Manz, B.F., The rise and rule of Tamerlane, Cambridge 1989. Manz, B.F., Women in Timurid dynastic politics, in G. Nashat and L. Beck (eds.), Women in Iran from the rise of Islam to 1800, Chicago 2003, 121–39. Mayer, T., S. Heidemann, and G. Rispling, Sylloge der Münzen des Kaukasus und Osteuropas im Orientalischen Münzkabinett Jena, Wiesbaden 2005.

482

bauden

Mitchell, C.P., Safavid imperial Tarassul and the Persian inshāʾ tradition, in SIr 26 (1997), 173–209. Mitchell, C.P., The practice of politics in Safavid Iran: Power, religion, and rhetoric, London and New York 2009. Mudarrisī-Ṭabāṭabāʾī, Ḥ., Haft farmān-i dīgar az Pādshāhān-i Turkumān, in Barrasīhā-yi tārīkhī 11.2 (2535 shāhānshāhī/1976), 85–126. Mudarrisī-Ṭabāṭabāʾī, Ḥ., Vaqf-nāma-yi az Turkmānān-i Qarā-Quyūnlū, in Farhang-i Īrān Zamīn 20 (1353 Sh/1974), 245–65. Navāʾī, ʿAbd al-Ḥusayn, Asnād va-mukātabāt-i tārīkhī-i Īrān az Tīmūr tā Shāh Ismāʿīl, Tehran 1370 Sh/1991–2. Pachkalov, A.V., O Monetakh “Bik-Bazara” i “Timur Bik-Bazara” (Dzhuchidi, XV v.), in Rossiĭskaya Arkheologiya 2 (2007), 33–8. Papazian, A.D., Persidskie dokumenty Matenadarana: I Ukazy (15–16 vv.), Erevan 1956. Potts, D.T., Nomadism in Iran: From Antiquity to the Modern Era, Oxford 2014. Qājār, N.M., Tārīkh va-jughrāfī-i dār al-salṭanah-yi Tabrīz, Tehran 1905. Reva, R.Y., and A.A. Kazarov, Ulus Dzhuchi v 817–819 gg.kh.: Rekonstrukciya sobytiĭ s uchetom novykh numizmaticheskikh dannykh [Ulus of Juchi in 817–819 ah: A Reconstruction of events based on the new numismatic data], in Vostochnaya Numizmatika v Ykraine 3 (Kiev, 2013), 60–75. Saljoqi, F., The gravestone of Gawhar Shad, in Afghanistan 25.4 (1973), 29–31. Sanjian, A.K., Colophons of Armenian manuscripts, 1301–1480: A source for middle eastern history. Selected, translated, and annotated, Cambridge, MA, 1969. Savory, R.M., The struggle for supremacy in Persia after the death of Tīmūr, in Der Islam 40 (1965), 35–65. Soucek, P.P., Ibrāhīm Sulṭān’s military career, in K. Eslami (ed.), Iran and Iranian Studies: Essays in honor of Iraj Afshar, Princeton 1998, 24–41. Spuler, B., Die Goldene Horde: Die Mongolen in Rußland, 1223–1502, Wiesbaden 1943, 2nd rev. ed. 1965. Stewart, D.J., Ibn Ḥijjah al-Ḥamawī, in J.E. Lowry and D.J. Stewart (eds.), Essays in Arabic literary biography, 1350–1850, Wiesbaden 2009, 137–47. Storey, Ch.A., Persian literature: A bio-bibliographical survey, vol. III, part 2, Oxford 1990. Sümer, F., Kara Koyunlular (Başlangıçtan Cihan-Şah’a kadar), Ankara 1984. Wing, P., The Jalayirids: Dynastic state formation in the Mongol Middle East, Edinburgh, 2016. Woods, J.E., The Aqquyunlu: Clan, confederation, empire, Salt Lake City 1999. Woods, J.E., The Timurid dynasty, Bloomington IN 1990. Woods, J.E., Timur’s genealogy, in M.M. Mazzaoui and V.B. Moreen (eds.), Intellectual studies on Islam: Essays written in honor of Martin B. Dickson, Salt Lake City 1990, 85–125.

diplomatic entanglements between tabriz, cairo, and herat

483

Yate, C.E., Inscriptions formerly in the Musalla of Herat, in JRAS (1926), 290–4. Yate, C.E., Northern Afghanistan, or letters from the Afghan Boundary Commission, Edinburgh and London 1888.

chapter 13

Fixed Rules to a Changing Game? Sultan Meḥmed II’s Realignment of Ottoman-Mamluk Diplomatic Conventions Kristof D’hulster

In an article dealing with the intricacies of ninth-/fifteenth-century Ottoman historiography,1 “How to read ʿĀshık Pasha-Zāde’s History?,”2 Halil İnalcık made the compelling suggestion to turn our attention not only to the body of prose in the chronicle, but to the interspersed verses as well. These verses, undoubtedly composed by ʿĀşıḳ Pāşā-Zāde himself, should be studied independently, for they might reflect the chronicler’s beliefs and views. Obviously, the present volume is not the proper place to take up İnalcık’s suggestion; hence, I make no attempt to present an overall assessment of ʿĀşıḳ Pāşā-Zāde’s verses. Yet, as I argue, even within the present context two of his distichs merit our attention nonetheless, as these could provide us with a suitable model for interpreting the Mamluks. That is, a model for thinking about Mamluk-Ottoman relations within the framework of the ninth-/fifteenth-century international power constellation of the eastern Mediterranean. These two verses, which conclude the chronicler’s annals of the year 869/1464–5,3 are found in an account of the ongoing Ottoman-Mamluk struggle over the Dhulqadirid domains. While the account itself is very much a ninth-/fifteenth-century Ottoman account (i.e., succinct and ambiguous according to Mamluk standards) and need not bother us here, the verses are worth quoting: Yine bir dürlü ṣūret ṭutdı ʿālem Ṣūretā kendüyi ḳuvvetlü bilür

❁ ❁

Neler düzer ve-līkin görmez ādem Velī maʿnīde ol kemden olur kem

“The few things man controls, he mistakes for the world.

❁

Yet, he doesn’t see (that he is taking the part for the whole).

1 This article was written within the framework of the MPC (Mamluk Political Culture) project, based at Ghent University, under the supervision of Jo Van Steenbergen. A first draft of this paper was presented at the International Medieval Conference, July 2012, Leeds. For an excellent and fuller treatment, see Yüksel Muslu, The Ottomans. 2 İnalcık, How to read 139, note 1. 3 ʿĀşıḳ Pāşā-Zāde, Die altosmanische Chronik 224.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2019 | doi:10.1163/9789004384637_014

485

fixed rules to a changing game?

Through appearance (ṣūret), he may ❁ deem himself powerful.

Yet, the truth (maʿnī) is that he grows feeble ever more.”

The tension between the key terms ṣūra and maʿnā, “form, shape” versus “meaning, significance,” on which these verses center, is one often found, most prominently, in philosophical and Sufi writings, where these terms relate to the discrepant pair of (transitory) “appearance” versus (eternal) “reality.” It is not hard to see how ʿĀşıḳ Pāşā-Zāde saw this tension in relation to the Mamluks: while they may have deemed themselves powerful, in doing so, they were only deluded by “appearances”; for, in “reality,” they were weak. Keeping up appearances, that is what they were doing, perhaps even blissfully unaware themselves. The danger of “appearance” and “reality” going their separate ways is obviously nowhere more imminent than in highly codified settings. Hence titulature and ceremonial are particularly prone to such growing discrepancies; perhaps they are, more often than not, reenactments of bygone realities. Could ʿĀşıḳ Pāşā-Zāde’s pair, “appearance” and “reality,” now perhaps offer us a useful way into Mamluk-Ottoman diplomatic relations as well?4 I argue this in the positive: within diplomatic conventions, i.e., rules of inter-state communication, appearances may not be everything; yet, they do matter a great deal.5

1

Setting the Scene

In order to elaborate this claim, I apply the chronicler’s model to one particular diplomatic incident, one that takes us back to the citadel of Cairo,6 the residence of the Mamluk sultan Khushqadam, in the year 868/1464. When the latter received an envoy coming from the Ottoman sultan Meḥmed II, Conqueror of Constantinople,7 the following happened, as recorded by the Mamluk chroniclers Ibn Taghrī Birdī and Ibn Iyās:8 4 For a general introduction to the relevant sources for Mamluk diplomatic correspondence, see Bauden, Mamluk era documentary studies. An overview of original documents is given by Roemer, Arabische Herrscherurkunden 337–42 (127 documents arranged by sultanic reign). 5 An excellent introduction to diplomacy that incorporates the newest approaches to the field is offered by Jönsson and Hall, Essence of diplomacy 24–66 (“Analytical framework,” “Institutionalization and ritualization”). 6 For the setting of the ceremony, see Behrens-Abouseif, The citadel of Cairo. 7 For Ottoman envoys in general, see Arı, Early Ottoman diplomacy 48–56; Yüksel Muslu, The Ottomans 23 ff., 192ff.; Unat and Baykal, Osmanlı Sefirleri. For the historical development of Ottoman diplomacy, see Yurdusev, The Ottoman attitude; Erdem, Osmanlı imparatorluğu’nda. 8 This diplomatic incident is also treated in Har-El, Struggle for domination 79; Hattox, Mehmed

486

d’hulster

On Sunday 28 [Ramaḍān 868/4 June 1464], an envoy of khwāndkār Muḥammad b. ʿUthmān, the mutamallik Bilād al-Rūm [i.e., Meḥmed II or Meḥmed Fātiḥ, second reign 855–86/1451–81], arrived in the Egyptian domains. Received [outside the city] by Timurbughā, the raʾs nawbat alnuwwāb, a group of ḥājibs, and others, he crossed Cairo and dismounted at the house of Jānibak Ḥabīb, close to the Ṭuquz Damur Bridge. The following day, the aforementioned envoy ascended to [the Ḥawsh Sulṭānī at] the citadel. When he approached the sultan’s council and was ordered by the mihmandār and the dawādār to kiss the ground, he refused to do so. The dawādār kabīr then ordered him to do so anew, but again he refused. The sultan [al-Ẓāhir Khushqadam, 865–72/1461–67] found that hard to bear, and hence did not bid him welcome. Then, the kātib alsirr read out from [Meḥmed’s] letter only the section [that enumerated] the presents [offered by Meḥmed], nothing else. Then, the presents that Ibn ʿUthmān had delivered through his envoy were presented. These consisted of the following: thirty mamluks, nine sable cuirasses and the like, lynx and the like, ermine and the like, pure blue gray squirrel [furs], and velvet speckled garments, as well as colored plain ones. Most of these [presents] the sultan distributed among the amirs. Then the envoy descended from the citadel, without [being offered] a khilʿa, for the sultan was offended by him [for two reasons, (1)], he had not kissed the ground, and (2), the sultan was not properly addressed in the letter he had delivered, in terms of his titles (laqab) and his epithets (naʿt). Rather, the letter showed modifications [in these terms], as compared to most other similar, earlier letters written to the rulers of Egypt. The letter began with al-maqarr al-karīm and the like. This was the main reason that the sultan was offended by him. After all, the envoy had apologized for the fact that he had not kissed the ground in front of the sultan, (1a) stating that he was unfamiliar with the arrangements of these domains, and (1b) that the mihmandār had not informed him of this matter before he ascended to the citadel. As another apology for not kissing the ground, (1c) he said; “(Even) God—Exalted is He above all—accepts the obligatory prayer, [even when] performed after the proper time ( yaqbalu l-qaḍāʾ fī ṣalāt al-farīḍa) [i.e., even God allows for a later performance of an obligatory duty omitted at the proper time]. I will kiss the ground in front of the sultan [later on; indeed, I will kiss it] more than once!” (2) As for the [modified] words of the letter, he apologized for this as well, saying that the one the conqueror 106; Yüksel Muslu, The Ottomans 117–27, 182; and Tekindağ, Fatih Devrinde 76.

fixed rules to a changing game?

487

who had drafted the letter did not know how to correspond with the sultan of Egypt. I say, the first apology (1), for him not kissing the ground, is acceptable, while the second (2) calls for careful study.9 Ibn Iyās deals with the incident more briefly, yet highlights Khushqadam’s vexed reaction: During that [month], the envoy of Ibn ʿUthmān, the ruler of Rūm, arrived. When he ascended to the citadel and was received by the sultan, he did not kiss the ground, according to the custom of envoys. The sultan was annoyed about this, and did not bestow on him a khilʿa. When the letter of Ibn ʿUthmān was read out, and [Khushqadam] found that it lacked the customary laqabs, he grew even more angry, and—if it had not been for the amirs stopping him—he would have assaulted the envoy and caused him harm.10 Given the nature of contemporaneous Ottoman historiography, already hinted at above, it is often hard to reconcile Ottoman and Mamluk sources. However, ʿĀşıḳ Pāşā-Zāde recorded a strikingly similar incident, interspersed as a vaguely dated flash-forward in his record for the year 864/1459–60. Here too, an altered titulature and the envoy’s refusal to kiss the ground before the sultan are put center stage: Some years later, [the Ottoman sultan Meḥmed II] sent a high-ranking envoy, saying: “May [your?] throne be blessed.” Yet, the letter they had written to the [Mamluk] sultan was not in accordance with the law of old (evvelki ḳānūn). Question: What was the law? Answer: [Whereas] they used to write ‘Sultan of the Two Harams, my father (Sulṭānü’l-Ḥaremeyn babam),’ now they wrote ‘Servant of the Two Harams, my brother, the sultan of Egypt (Hādimü’l-Ḥaremeyn ḳarındaşım Mıṣır Sulṭānı).’ When arriving in Egypt, the envoy was not received by the Egyptian beys [as well] as the previous envoy had been, [as] the result [of this altered inscriptio?]. They immediately assigned him a guard (çavuş) and brought him to his residence (ḳonaḳ). [The envoy] immediately went to

9 10

Ibn Taghrī Birdī, Ḥawādith al-duhūr iii, 471–72. Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr 420.

488

d’hulster

the gate [of his residence] and they made him dismount from his horse. The envoy then entered through the gate [on foot], while in the courtyard all of Egypt’s beys were on horseback. The envoy did not pay them respect, did not even greet them or take off his shoes. He walked past them and took a seat. As for the beys, without saying anything, they left [him] and took off. The head of guards (çavuş başı) said: “Why did you not greet the beys, and why did you not take off your shoes?” The envoy replied: “It is neither custom nor habit for someone on foot to greet somebody on horseback. As for the reason I did not take off my shoes, that is because you did not quarter [me] according to the law. I did not take them off, thinking that you might still give [me] some other lodgings.” He then spent the night [at the residence]. The following morning, the envoy was summoned and brought before the sultan. As custom had it, the envoy kneeled down and produced [Meḥmed’s] letter. The guards summoned the envoy: “Kiss the ground!” The envoy said: “I have not come here to kiss [the ground], but I have come here to convey the greetings of my ruler to the sultan.” In the end, [the guards] mocked and insulted [him]. The envoy then returned to Rūm and explained to the ruler what had happened. The ruler of Rūm became vexed with this, and it was another reason for the enmity.11 Minor divergences notwithstanding, the only important difference between this record and the one found in the Mamluk annals lies in the fact that here it is the Ottomans who play innocent, and hold the Mamluks fully responsible for the subsequent deterioration of Ottoman-Mamluk relations, because of their bad treatment of the envoy. As there is nothing as futile as trying to place the blame on one of the two parties involved, we may safely leave this matter for the Ottoman and Mamluk chroniclers to thrash the debate out among themselves.12 What matters is that Ottoman-Mamluk relations were strained, and that this strain was to some extent fed by/communicated through breaches of protocol, whoever initiated them. While, for convenience sake, only the Mamluk records are referred to in the following, we should observe that the analysis is equally valid for the Ottoman record.

11 12

ʿĀşıḳ Pāşā-Zāde, Die altosmanische Chronik 222–3. See also Yüksel Muslu, The Ottomans 117–24. See also below, note 34.

fixed rules to a changing game?

2

489

The Rules

This incident is revealing already at face value, both in terms of the diplomatic conventions that governed Mamluk-Ottoman inter-state communication at that time, and in terms of the history of their relations. Even to those uninitiated in either of these terms, the message communicated is clear: Meḥmed II was demoting his Mamluk counterpart, both by not having his envoy kiss the ground in front of Khushqadam,13 and by addressing the latter through the inscriptio of al-maqarr al-karīm, one for a much lesser rank than the one commonly used for addressing the Mamluk sultan.14 Yet, in spite of its clarity, a full appreciation of this fragment, both of the message and the medium, of what was communicated and how it was communicated, can be reached only by considering two distinct axes. We can think of this diplomatic incident as one line in a long, meandering dialogue between the two powers; understanding this line requires knowledge of the language in which this line was drafted and knowledge of the dialogue of which it was part. Hence, I first assess this line within the matrix of diplomatic language, the rules of the game as it were, thus adding synchronic width to our understanding. Second, I contextualize this line by locating it within the historical dialogue between Ottomans and Mamluks, the game itself, thus adding diachronic depth. In conclusion, before

13

14

See al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā iv, 58–9 (“Akhbār al-mulūk al-wārida ʿalayhi mukātabāt minhum”) for the reception of an envoy by the Mamluk sultan, the former’s kissing the ground and the presentation of the letter. For the Ottoman pāybūs and zamīnbūs, kissing the feet/ground before the sultan, see Dilger, Untersuchungen 73–4 (“Proskynese”). The importance of body language in protocol in general is treated by Jönsson and Hall, Essence of diplomacy 84–8. There are many examples of symbolic violence wrought through titulature and other diplomatic characteristics. For another example relating to Ottoman-Mamluk relations, see Kerslake, The correspondence 222, 225, 229 (Qānṣūh addressing Selīm I as oğlum ḥażretleri in a letter dated March 1516; Selīm addressing Qānṣūh as qarındaşım at a later date; Selīm’s declaration of war dated 10 August 1516, in which he addressed Qānṣūh without the honorary alqāb). Apart from the Mamluks, e.g., also the Aq Qoyunlu and Safavid rulers fell victim to Ottoman symbolic blows. Uzun Ḥasan, e.g., was downgraded in an Ottoman letter, this not by leaving out the intitulatio but by placing it before the inscriptio (Ménage, On the constituent elements 279, 289–90, with reference to Ferīdūn Beg, Münşeʾātü’l-selāṭīn i, 278–9). Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology gives many examples for the earlier period (see the index, sub ambassador, gift, letters, protocol, and title), such as the letter of the Mamluk sultan Barqūq to Tīmūr (185: “The letter further belittled its recipient by using small (third-sized) paper, and employing an insultingly low form of address, ‘Amīr Temür,’ and the unprecedented second-person (‘you’) which was devoid of honorifics, instead of the standard third-person (‘he’ or ‘they’) and the corresponding appellations of ‘His Dignity,’ ‘The Seat’ or ‘His Honor,’ with honorifics”).

490

d’hulster

bidding our Ottoman envoy farewell, the question arises as to why the synchronic axis and the diachronic axis, the rules and the game, intersect in this particular incident; for this we return to ʿĀşıḳ Pāşā-Zāde’s quatrain on “appearance” versus “reality.” Let us begin by taking a closer look at this one line of the dialogue, by looking at the inscriptio15 through the lens of Mamluk diplomatic language. The degrading message communicated via this title might easily have been overlooked, even by masters of the Arabic language. After all, does not al-maqarr al-karīm, “His Noble Seat,” sound quite all right? Even more, we might well have misread this particular line of the dialogue in the hypothetical case when the letter itself or at least its actual (con)text reached us. For all we know, this text may have remained mute/unintelligible to us—a distinction hard to make—in terms of conveying the letter’s primary degrading message, which was already skillfully yet subtly communicated through the inscriptio, which was governed not by the rules of Arabic, but by those of diplomatic language. That is to say, misreadings are avoided not by processing the letter through the matrix of its Arabic or Ottoman Turkish language, nor necessarily by having access to the full letter, but by decoding all data through the matrix of diplomatic language. Given its subtle and codified way of communicating, we would not have been the first to overlook the primary message of diplomatic correspondence, a point made amply clear by such studies as Allouche’s reevaluation of a letter of Tegüder to Qalāwūn (1282), and Melvin-Koushki’s analysis of a fatḥnāma of Uzun Ḥasan to Qāytbāy (1469).16 What at first sight looked like a letter of Tegüder to Qalāwūn expressing solidarity, and was initially understood as such by scholars, was decoded by Allouche as an ultimatum to submit to vassalage status. This he did by moving beyond the actual matn and beyond the language sensu stricto, beyond the “literal rendering of the text, as has been done to date, but rather through the study of its key expressions … (which) meaning can be

15

16

For a general aperçu of Islamic diplomatics, see, apart from the relevant entries in the Encyclopaedia of Islam, and the works by such scholars as Josef Matuz, Hans Robert Roemer, and Lajos Fekete, Beihammer, Eastern Mediterranean diplomatics. As for Ottoman diplomatics, see Reychman and Zajaczkowki, Handbook; Gökbilgin, Osmanlı İmparatorluğu; and the extensive bibliography provided by Stojanow, Die Entstehung. A more succinct introduction is given by Horniker, Ottoman-Turkish diplomatics. As for the inscriptio, see Dekkiche, Le Caire i, 357–77. The general importance of addressing people the right way is dealt with by Gully, The culture 166–96, especially 183ff. (“Epistolary protocol”). For another example of diverging interpretations of one diplomatic letter, this time by the medieval chroniclers rather than by contemporary scholars, see Little, Diplomatic missions 36.

fixed rules to a changing game?

491

clarified through recourse to medieval manuals of style.”17 Melvin-Koushki too provides an “illustration of the usefulness and indeed necessity of using formal analysis in tandem with contextual analysis of all such stylized and rigorously governed genres.”18 In spite of its submissive rhetoric, fairly modest tone, and clear indications of deference to the Mamluk sultan, indeed, in spite of the “ostensible sense of the text,” there is an “aggressive intent … activated by its formal structure.”19 While the importance of the diplomatic language as compared to the language of the letter sensu stricto can hardly be overstated, its role in establishing a sound reading is admittedly much less vital in our case, as this time our correct understanding is safeguarded by the chroniclers’ telling and unambiguous record of the sultan’s angry reaction to the inscriptio. Yet, while the language of diplomacy may not be essential to recognize our al-maqarr alkarīm as a breach of protocol, it is the more so if we want to move beyond mere recognition to full appreciation. One could argue that perhaps the Ottomans did not fully master this Mamluk diplomatic language, and that all of this is nothing but an unfortunate accident de parcours. Against this, however, is the fact that the language used by Mamluks and Ottomans was largely one and the same, a lingua franca that, dialectal differences notwithstanding, was common to the Islamic East, and, as such, understood by all parties involved. Another argument against considering al-maqarr al-karīm an unintended mishap is the fact that there is a second breach of protocol: the envoy’s refusal to kiss the ground in front of Sultan Khushqadam, a sultan who, unlike his predecessor, Jaqmaq, was reputedly fond of all things ceremonial.20 As rightfully remarked by Roosen, the envoy’s failure to perform this action “which is normal and expected under the circumstances … is just as significant as performing some positive action would be under other circumstances.”21

17

18 19 20

21

Allouche, Tegüder’s ultimatum 438, 439. The letter reveals features of “Royal correspondence Urging Obedience (ṭāʿa) and Avoiding Conflict (khilāf ),” a section of al-Qalqashandī’s Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā characterized by stylistic pairing of opposites expressing “forgiveness and warning,” “enticement and menace,” “exhortation and intimidation,” etc. See, however, Pfeiffer, Aḥmad Tegüder’s second letter. Melvin-Koushki, The delicate art 198. Ibid., 193. Illustrative of Khushqadam’s bent for ceremonial pomp is the fact that, during his reign, a new ceremony was introduced; this involved mamluks kissing the ground before the sultan as well as his feet (see Ibn Taghrī Birdī, Ḥawādith al-duhūr iii, 455, 24–457, 1, and Behrens-Abouseif, Cairo of the Mamluks 25–6). Roosen, Early modern diplomatic 472.

492

d’hulster

In order to accommodate both breaches of protocol within the matrix of diplomatic language referred to above, the latter concept must be properly understood. Much more than just another language sensu stricto, diplomatic language constitutes a multimodal semiotic system,22 with various subsystems of communication, all of which come with their own set of rules and their own stock of symbols. Hence, what matters is not only the inscriptio or the text, be it the one flowing from the scribe’s qalam or the one conveyed orally through the diplomat’s tongue. What matters are all internal and external characteristics of the diploma, the gifts exchanged, the identity of the envoys and their respective reception by the host, etc. These all serve as media of communication in such a subtle and coded way that, indeed, it is hard to distinguish between message and medium!23 In John Wansbrough’s words, diplomacy is a “meta-language which dictated the arrangement of the text and identified the equivalent terms to be employed … a slot structure with infinitely variable tokens.”24 There are many slots to fill, and the choice of tokens was correlated to

22

23

24

Jönsson and Hall, Essence of diplomacy 69–73, distinguish between “language in a purely linguistic sense” and “language in a broader sociological sense,” referring to the latter as “a common code (that is) a certain (often unconscious) preknowledge that is necessary for understanding a message … (something which) German hermeneutic philosophers call Interpretationsgemeinschaft, initial commonality with respect to interpretation.” In this light, diplomats can be thought of as “ ‘intuitive semioticians’, as conscious producers and interpreters of sign.” Indeed, the explicit association of hermeneutics, the science of interpretation, with Hermes, the ancient Greek deity of diplomacy, is no coincidence. See Brett, Lingua franca (with reference to the aphorisms of the communication theorist Marshall McLuhan, found in his Understanding media [1964] and The medium is the massage: An inventory of effects [1967]: “The medium is the message” and “The medium is the massage”). The relation between form and meaning, structure, and texture, or content and intent of diplomatic correspondence is compared by Mitchell, Safavid imperial tarassul 182–3, with that same relation in poetry. Mitchell’s comparison was rendered more explicit by Melvin-Koushki, The delicate art 198: “He proposes that the explicitly literary nature of the Persian inshaʾ tradition may be seen as productive of the same tension between form and meaning, or structure and texture, as obtains with poetry: the poet, while adhering rigidly to meter and conventionality of image, yet activates this framework to express his peculiar intent.” Wansbrough, Lingua franca 157. A succinct introduction to this daunting treatment of the diplomatic languages of Arabs, Turks, and Persians as “creative adaptations of such languages to a common rule of interlingual communication provided by their format, their scripts, their simplified syntax and their vocabulary (resulting in) a lingua franca, a medium of diplomacy” is provided by Brett, Lingua franca. Compare to İnalcık’s apt definition (Power relationships 369) of the intitulatio as “a system of semiotic symbols designed to declare (the ruler’s) place and power in the world, (which) defines and asserts in a determined order his power relationship with men and space in his own environment, in the world, and in the cosmos.”

fixed rules to a changing game?

493

various variables, including the status of the agens, the status of the addressed party—as ascribed by the agens that is—and the message to be conveyed. It is only when thinking of diplomatic language in these terms that we can fully appreciate how both the inscriptio and the failure to kiss the ground spell out the same degrading message, irrespective of the actual text of the letter. We can now also understand why the Mamluk chronicles failed to record this text: for them, the primary message, the one that truly mattered, was communicated through the inscriptio and the refusal to kiss the ground; so that is what they wrote down. Perhaps the text also spelled out al-maqarr al-karīm instead of the higher al-maqām al-ʿālī, “His Elevated Dignity,” perhaps seemingly meaningless technicalities such as the ink used in the letter, the position of the ṭughrā, or the dress of the envoy upon arrival did so as well. As the account presented above is all we have, there is no way of telling if and how all these media contributed to communicating/constituting the message. Apart from that, even if all these data were available, we still might be unable to decode them properly, i.e., to read al-maqarr al-karīm throughout, given our scant knowledge of the diplomatic semiotics. While we know that the Ottoman envoy offered the Mamluk sultan “thirty mamluks, nine sable cuirasses and the like, lynx and the like, ermine and the like, pure blue gray squirrel [furs], and velvet speckled garments, as well as colored plain ones,” neither the grammar nor the lexicon of the Mamluk or Ottoman “language of gifts”25 is sufficiently known to enable us to decode these gifts properly, and to see whether these too spell out the degrading al-maqarr al-karīm. Let us now return to the inscriptio. This form of address, which consists of two laqabs and a list of nuʿūt, as tabulated above,26 is rightfully referred to by Broadbridge as “a hierarchy of titles (reflecting) the status of each addressee

25

26

The problems relating to our understanding of the meaning of gifts are hinted at by, e.g., Bauden, Les Relations 13–4; Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 22–3; Broadbridge, Diplomatic conventions 111; Karateke, An Ottoman protocol register 24–34; Little, Diplomatic missions 32, 39–42; and Yüksel Muslu, The Ottomans 37–45. See also Behrens-Abouseif, Practising diplomacy. The left column includes only the most common internal diplomatic characteristics, leaving out items such as the devotio, the testificatio, and the apprecatio. For a full inscriptio, see, e.g., the letter of the Mamluk sultan Īnāl to Meḥmed II, dated 860/1456, in Ibn Taghrī Birdī, Ḥawādith al-duhūr 2ii, 63: [laqab 1] al-Maqarr [laqab 2] al-karīm al-ʿālī [other laqabs] al-kabīrī, al-ʿālimī, al-ʿādilī, al-muʾayyadī, al-ʿawnī, al-ghiyāthī, al-mumahhidī, almushayyidī, al-ẓahīrī, al-nāṣirī [nuʿūt] ʿIzz al-islām wa-l-muslimīn, Nāṣir al-ghuzāt wa-lmujāhidīn, Maljaʾ al-fuqarāʾ wa-l-masākīn, Zaʿīm juyūsh al-muwaḥḥidīn, Mumahhid alduwal wa-mushayyid al-mamālik, ʿAwn al-umma, Ghiyāth al-milla, Ẓahīr al-mulūk wa-lsalāṭīn, ʿAḍud Amīr al-muʾminīn.

494

d’hulster

table 13.1 The inscriptiones in Mamluk diplomatics: the hierarchical perspective

Protocol

Invocatio Intitulatio Inscriptio

Laqab 1

+ Laqab 2 (+ …)

+ Nuʿūt

Salutatio (Con)text

Narratio-expositio

al-Maqām + al-Ashraf

+ E.g. Iskandar al-Zamān

Dispositio

+ al-Sharīf

+ E.g. Nuṣrat al-Dīn

Sanctio

+ al-ʿĀlī

+ ….

Corroboratio

al-Maqarr + al-Karīm

Eschatocol Datatio Locatio

+ al-ʿĀlī al-Janāb

+ al-Karīm + al-ʿĀlī

al-Majlis

+ al-ʿĀlī + al-Sāmī

and rang(ing) from ‘His Dignity’ (maqām, for royalty), ‘The Seat’ (maqarr, for the highest military men and administrators), and ‘His Honor’ ( janāb, for the next level of military men) to a second ‘The Seat’ (majlis, for ordinary military men).”27 Instead of al-maqām al-ʿālī,28 by which the Mamluk sultan was addressed before 868–69/1464, he is now addressed by the lesser laqab, al-

27 28

Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 139 (with reference to al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā v, 463–5). See, e.g., the inscriptio used by the Ottoman sultan Bāyazīd I in a letter to the Mamluk sultan Ṭaṭar, dated 819/1416–7 and recorded by Ibn Ḥijja (Das Rauschgetränk 179, letter 43).

fixed rules to a changing game?

495

maqarr al-karīm. As it happens, this very laqab was at that time used by the Mamluk sultans themselves when addressing some foreign rulers, including the Ottoman or the Qara Qoyunlu rulers.29

3

The Game

The fact that Meḥmed used precisely this inscriptio can hardly have been a coincidence; this is more clear when we examine the historical axis in order to contextualize this line within its dialogue.30 Who were the parties engaged? On the one hand, there were the Mamluks, already well-established by the time they engaged in a dialogue with the emerging Ottoman state, in the 760s or 770s/1360s or 1370s.31 By the 860s/1460s, the Mamluks were increasingly struggling to uphold their symbolic leadership throughout the dār al-Islām, a leadership position that they had earned long before, through symbolic and highly charged victories over the Mongols and the crusaders. This leadership was increasingly challenged internationally, as it was growing farther from the real balance of power in the region, a widening gap of which the Mamluks must have been well aware. Likewise, they must have known that any adjustment of this symbolic status quo could only come at their expense. After all, they were the ones who depended on a legitimacy gained long before, not the other parties, with whom they were diplomatically involved. One such party was the Ottomans. A Timurid setback notwithstanding, the career of the Ottomans had been sky-rocketing, eventually to culminate in their domination of the eastern Mediterranean. In the years before 868/1464, Meḥmed II had conquered Constantinople and added Serbia to his domains; he transformed the Black Sea into an Ottoman mare nostrum and, indeed, transformed himself into a Byzantine Emperor Ottoman style, a sultan-pope.32 As for the concluding lines of the

29 30

31

32

See Dekkiche, Le Caire ii, 220. See mainly al-Thakafi, The diplomatic relationship 54–96; Björkman, Die frühesten türkisch-ägyptischen Beziehungen; Har-El, Struggle for domination 60–130; and Yüksel Muslu, The Ottomans. The date of first contact is disputed. See al-Thakafi, The diplomatic relationship 55, 57; Björkmann, Die frühesten türkisch-ägyptischen Beziehungen; Har-El, Struggle for domination 66; and Yüksel Muslu, The Ottomans 306, note 27. See also Veselý, Ein Kapitel 241, note 2. Following the conquest of Constantinople, Meḥmed assumed the same prerogatives as the late Byzantine emperor, an assumption coined sultanopapism by Hattox (Mehmed the Conqueror). Illustrative of this is the fact that around 862–3/1458 the Greek Orthodox patriarch of Jerusalem asked Meḥmed II, and not the Mamluk sultan, for protection of the

496

d’hulster

Mamluk-Ottoman dialogue (that is, the defeat of the Mamluks at the hands of the Ottoman sultan Selīm I, one and a half centuries following first contact), these are too well-known to warrant any further discussion here. When we now position the 868/1464 incident onto the diachronic axis presented above, we can see where Meḥmed’s downgrading message and his particular choice of inscriptio came from. The following table lays out the various laqabs used in Mamluk-Ottoman correspondence through time (horizontal axis, with the Mamluk inscriptio for the Ottomans and the Ottoman inscriptio for the Mamluks in the left and right columns, respectively) against the hierarchy of inscriptiones as detailed above in table 13.1 (vertical axis). While the Ottoman > Mamluk inscriptio remained unchanged as al-maqām al-ʿālī until 868/1464, the Mamluk > Ottoman inscriptio is dynamic. Starting from al-majlis al-ʿālī l-amīrī (slightly lower than al-majlis al-ʿālī), it moves over to al-majlis alʿālī and al-janāb al-ʿālī, and eventually culminates in al-maqarr al-karīm:33

33

dhimmīs in what was still Mamluk territory; this was a move that put Meḥmed II above his Mamluk counterpart as the “ideal Muslim ruler” (i.e., someone who treats the dhimmīs appropriately). Given the fact that Meḥmed’s conquests did not happen directly at the expense of the Mamluks, Hattox tentatively suggests that it was mostly his sultanopapism that “encroach[ed], in a subtle fashion, on the sovereignty of the Mamluk sultan over some of his own subjects” (Hattox, Mehmed the conqueror 116), thus posing a direct threat to the Mamluk prerogatives and adding to the tension that was building up since 857/1453. The number of relevant inscriptiones that have come down to us is fairly limited. As a consequence, the table draws on sources of diverging evidential value, the inscriptiones being drawn from both Ottoman and Mamluk sources, and from administrative manuals, inshāʾ collections, and chronicles alike. Only those that reflect the chronology of the gradual upgrading and subsequent stagnation of the inscriptio are collated here: al-majlis al-ʿālī l-amīrī (Dekkiche, Le Caire ii, 213, with ref. to al-ʿUmarī (d. 749/1349), al-Taʿrīf ), al-majlis al-ʿālī (ibid. ii, 211, 223, with refs. to Ibn Nāẓir al-Jaysh (d. 786/1384), Tathqīf altaʿrīf, and al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā), al-janāb al-ʿālī (Ibn Ḥijja, Das Rauschgetränk 183 [Bāyazīd I to al-Muʾayyad Shaykh, in reply to a letter dated 818–9/1416]), al-maqarr al-karīm (Dekkiche, Le Caire ii, 220, with ref. to al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim; Ferīdūn Beg, Münşeʾātü’l-selāṭīn i, 265 [Jaqmaq to Meḥmed II, predating 1 Ṣafar 856/22 February 1452]; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, Ḥawādith al-duhūr ii, 263 [Īnāl to Meḥmed II, dated 860–1/1456]). Tekindağ, Fatih Devrinde 76, also refers to a letter of the Mamluk sultan Īnāl to John II de Lusignan, king of Cyprus (reproduced in de Mas Latrie, Histoire i, 75), in which he referred to Meḥmed II as “El Macar Enasar”, i.e., al-Maqarr al-Nāṣir. Assuming that ʿĀşıḳ Pāşā-Zāde’s record for the year 865/1460–1 actually relates to events following the 868/1464 incident (see Yüksel Muslu, The Ottomans 320, n. 50), it appears that no diplomatic exchange took place between 860–1/1456 and 868/1464, a silence tentatively explained by Hattox (Mehmed the conqueror 106) as a deterioration of their relations due to Meḥmed II’s developing sultanopapism, starting in 862–3/1458.

497

fixed rules to a changing game?

table 13.2 The inscriptiones in Mamluk-Ottoman correspondence: the historical perspective < 1349

< 1384

1416

< 1452

1456

1464

M→O O→M M→O O→M M→O O→M M→O O→M M→O O→M M→O O→M maqām ashraf maqām sharīf maqām ʿālī maqarr karīm maqarr ʿālī janāb karīm janāb ʿālī majlis ʿālī maljis sāmī

Significantly, this last station of al-maqām al-karīm, the highest symbolic rank accorded to the Ottomans by the Mamluks through the inscriptio, was reached already well before 857/1453, that is, before the fall of Constantinople and Meḥmed’s other victories. In this light, we can only imagine Meḥmed’s frustration when he discovered that he, the conqueror, the sultan-pope, was not honored with a final upgrade to the highest laqab, al-maqām, an upgrade which, quite significantly, would have put him on a symbolic par with the Mamluk sultan. It appears that, while the growing power of the Ottoman Empire had been neatly and symbolically translated into an upgrade of the Mamluk inscriptio until the mid-ninth/mid-fifteenth century, this was no longer the case after 857/1453, in spite of further and significant shifts in the international power constellation. How to set this balance straight then? In 794/1392, the Ottoman sultan Bāyazīd sent a letter to the caliph in Cairo, asking him, and thus indirectly asking the Mamluk sultan Barqūq, to invest him with the title of “Sulṭān of Rūm,” i.e., for a symbolic upgrade from amīr to sulṭān in another hierarchy of titles, unrelated to the hierarchy of inter-state communication inscriptiones. So, rather than playing a waiting game, Bāyazīd actively pursued a symbolic upgrade, which, before long, was granted to him.34 Clearly,

34

Cf. Al-Thakafi, The diplomatic relationship 60; Har-El, Struggle for domination 66–7; Yüksel Muslu, The Ottomans 79; Tekindağ, Berkuk Devrinde 101–3; and Wittek, Le Sultan de Rûm. Har-El (Struggle for domination 66–7) suggests that Barqūq “might have been reluctant to give Bāyezīd approval, unless he felt that the ties with him had to be strengthened in view of the growing menace of Timur in the east and that a military unity between all Muslim countries of Anatolia would be necessary under such circumstances.” Quite significantly

498

d’hulster

in 868/1464, some seventy years later, the tables had turned even further. Unlike Bāyazīd, Meḥmed sought this upgrade not through an active yet humble request in Cairo. Through an act of symbolic violence, he himself forced it through, by confronting Khushqadam with the fait accompli of downgrading him to al-maqarr al-karīm. Khushqadam may have failed to put his Ottoman counterpart on a symbolic par by upgrading him, but the latter had no plans to patiently abide by this status quo or follow the humble precedent of his greatgrandfather Bāyazīd.

4

Changing the Rules While Playing the Game

After adding synchronic width and diachronic depth to our understanding of this diplomatic incident, and by approaching it as one line of a long dialogue and by focusing respectively on the rules, that is, the language in which this line was drafted, and on the game, that is, the dialogue of which this line was part, we now fully appreciate both the message and the medium, what was being communicated and how. Both these axes need to be taken into account. On the one hand, reading a line outside its dialogue would require something that we lack, that is, a full command of the language in which this particular line is drafted, that is, the semiotic system that governed these inter-state contacts at that particular time. On the other hand, understanding any dialogue requires that we look into each of its lines, because they are meaningful in their own terms, and are each furthered by what came before, and propelled by what came after. One cannot do without the other: lines are what the dialogue is made of, while the line can only be fully understood within its proper dialogue. This observation tallies neatly with the call by, among others, Broadbridge and Karateke35 to use diplomatic correspondence and chronicles in tandem: “Evi-

35

(see above note 12), the Mamluk side of the story (as recorded by Ibn al-Furāt, Ibn Qāḍī Shuhba, etc.) does not tally well with the Ottoman narrative: whereas the former suggests that the Ottomans at that time (still) abided by Mamluk symbolic seniority, by humbly asking Cairo for a symbolic upgrade, the Ottoman chronicle makes no mention of such a request and puts the initiative with the Mamluk sultan instead: in 787–8/1386, Barqūq is said to have addressed Murād I in a letter as sulṭān al-ghuzāt wa-l-mujāhidīn (see Har-El, Struggle for domination 66; Yüksel Muslu, The Ottomans 71–73). “Despite the abundant information [protocol registers] contain otherwise, in terms of interpretive comments the registers do not come close to the traditional official chronicles … These characteristics of the registers make it difficult for a modern researcher to place the described ceremonies in their context in order to arrive at a meaningful interpretation” (Karateke, An Ottoman protocol register 35–6).

fixed rules to a changing game?

499

dence of the important connections between protocol and politics … appears clearly in the chancery manuals themselves, which, when combined with the histories, form a vital source for information about the sultanate and the larger Islamic world.”36 Before returning to ʿĀşıḳ Pāşā-Zāde’s pair of “appearance” versus “reality,” a few more words regarding breaches of diplomatic protocol are called for. While the importance of considering both the diplomatic matrix and the history of Ottoman-Mamluk relations cannot be overestimated, referring to these two as the “rules” and the “game” may be misleading, as these appellations suggest that we think of them as a set of fixed rules by which a highly volatile game is played. After all, as demonstrated by the 868/1464 incident, the game is not only played by the rules, but informs these as well. Diplomacy, or any symbolic interaction for that matter, is not a game played by fixed rules, but one played by rules that change. While Wansbrough’s slot structure and its tokens may have been fairly stable throughout time and throughout the region, the variables of the parties involved changed over time, that is, the status one claimed for oneself and the status one was willing to accord to the other party. The Ottomanists İnalcık and Karateke made important contributions to rethinking changes in diplomatic protocol as reflections of changes in real power constellations. While İnalcık correlated changes in the titulature in the correspondence of the Ottomans, the Russians, and the Crimean states to the evolving power constellation,37 Karateke later stressed “the profound significance [of] small variations” in ceremony, as these “can provide clues of the regime’s changing self-perception or shed light on existing tensions.”38 In the Mamluk field, the strongest case in point was made by Broadbridge, who considered, among other factors, the relation between protocol and politics in the cases of the rebel Ilkhanid governor Tīmūrtāsh and the refugee Jalayirid ruler Sulṭān Aḥmad.39 According to 36

37 38

39

Broadbridge, Diplomatic conventions 115. A case in point is made by Pfeiffer’s “re-reevaluation” of Tegüder’s letter to Qalāwūn; we have already referred to Allouche’s reevaluation of it as an “ultimatum” (cf. note 17). Even though the latter hinted at the importance of both chronicles and administrative manuals for interpreting diplomatic correspondence, his reevaluation missed the mark, apud Pfeiffer (Aḥmad Tegüder’s second letter 172, 185), as he failed to take the diachronic axis into account sufficiently, and relied too strongly on the synchronic axis instead. İnalcık, Power relationships. Karateke, An Ottoman protocol register 2–3. For European history, see Roosen, Early modern diplomatic 462 (“Since disagreements over ceremonial occurred so frequently, an examination of them enables us to discover the changes in practice which reflect and reveal changes in the relative positions of states”). Broadbridge, Diplomatic conventions 112. See also ibid. 97, 108 (“Any mistake in protocol was a grave professional error for a chancellery official, since it might lead him to express

500

d’hulster

the latter scholar, when it comes to breaches of protocol in the Mamluk sultanate, the most rewarding chronicles are al-Nuwayrī’s (d. 733/1333), al-Yūsufī’s (d. 759/1358), and Ibn Ḥajar’s (d. 852/1449). As for administrative manuals, Ibn Nāẓir al-Jaysh’s (d. 786/1384) Tathqīf al-taʿrīf appears to stand out in this respect, as he is “unique in his full (and sometimes opinionated) explanations of variations or changes in protocol, often includ[ing] both the precise year of their occurrence, and the political events that inspired them.”40 How exactly these changes in diplomatic protocol came about we cannot know. While some may arguably be the result of requests, such as Bāyazīd’s request for the sultanic title referred to above, I would assume that “precedence” mattered most. Telling proof of the importance of the sequence “preceding (in)deliberate breach of protocol > codification/no codification” is found in a twelfth-/eighteenth-century Ottoman protocol register, edited by Karateke. Many of its marginal notes relate to breaches of protocol, alternatively called hāricü’l-resm, gayrü’l-teşrīfāt or hilāf-i üṣūl.41 In particular, one note reads: “Recorded here to make this matter known and to be considered as precedent when needed.” Clearly, the role of precedence (sebḳ/sābıḳiyye) in the translation of changes in the outside world into changes in diplomatic conventions was pivotal. The responsibility for codifying these precedents must have laid with Karateke’s protocol officials, to whom he referred as “guardians of the status quo,” or, more generally, with Broadbridge’s chancery officials, “who codified, reinforced and perpetuated many of these ceremonial details.”42 To these officials we could tentatively add the chroniclers, whose role as repositories of ceremonial (change) might have remained underexposed until now.43

40 41

42

43

an individual’s status inaccurately, and thus misrepresent the very real relations of power that lay behind the ceremonial particulars”). Ibid. 104, 109 note 65. Karateke, An Ottoman protocol register 3. The author even goes as far as to equate precedence with codification (ibid. 5): “One might suppose that the description of a ceremony with deviations would thereafter bear the potential of becoming a precedent for later ceremonies, and indeed, unless otherwise noted, the description of a ceremony in a protocol register automatically rendered it legitimate in all respects.” Ibid.; Broadbridge, Diplomatic conventions 115. See also Favereau’s observations (Comment le sultan mamlouk 90) on the kātib’s procedure in drafting letters: copying was the norm, unless no suitable model was available, in which case the kātib turned to analogy or mirrored the letter being answered. See Behrens-Abouseif’s picture of al-Maqrīzī and Ibn Taghrī Birdī (The citadel of Cairo 26) as guardians of protocol, “tak[ing] a rigorous attitude towards issues of protocol and often criticiz[ing] inconsistencies or short-comings in the sultans’ performances.” Indeed, it appears that chroniclers were occasionally consulted over all things ceremonial. Ibn Taghrī Birdī, e.g., was once consulted by the sultan over the latter’s sartorial habits (Ḥawādith al-duhūr iii, 446–7).

fixed rules to a changing game?

figure 13.1

501

Rethinking diplomacy: from the “rules” and its “game” (left) to “appearance” and “reality” (right)

Now where does ʿĀşıḳ Pāşā-Zāde’s pair of “appearance” versus “reality” fit into all this? The two axes of the “rules” and its “game” suggest the existence of two distinct entities, one rigid and one volatile, whereas, in reality, both change by informing one another. Moreover, while these may have helped us to fully appreciate the “what” and “how” of the 868/1464 incident, its “why” has largely been left untouched until now. I argue that, even more than the axes of the “rules” and the “game” (as schematized on the left in figure 13.1, with the dialogue or game unfolding through a diachronic succession of lines, each informed by a discrete set of fixed rules), ʿĀşıḳ Pāşā-Zāde’s model of tension between “appearance” and “reality” (as schematized on the right in figure 13.1) offers a suitable way of thinking about Mamluk-Ottoman diplomacy. Diplomatic conventions can be thought of as symbolic codifications (ṣūra, “form”) of reality, that is, of a balance of power that, at a particular point in time, is very real (maʿnā, “reality”).44 As long as the balance of power does not tilt, these conventions neatly reflect reality, ṣūra and maʿnā being fully aligned. Yet, as soon as the balance does tilt, conventions and reality are no longer on a par, and a discrepancy creeps in between maʿnā and ṣūra. In order to realign these, adjustments to the protocol must be implemented. Yet, as a rule, these are implemented at intervals only, reluctantly by those on the losing side, and slowly (frustratingly so) for those on the winning side. Just like Karateke’s protocol officials, diplomatic conventions are “guardians of [a] status quo” long gone. Rather than keeping full pace with the ever-changing “real” world out-

44

See Roosen’s statement (Early modern diplomatic 460, 475–6): “The relative importance and status of (the different parties) can therefore be determined by discovering the order of the international hierarchy … The study of diplomatic ceremonial can clarify the relative positions of states in the international hierarchy by showing changes in the patterns of diplomatic ceremonial. Used with care, diplomatic ceremonial can serve as a barometer for relationships between states and rulers in the short run, especially if we are aware of the possible meanings of nonverbal communication.”

502

d’hulster

side protocol, they tend to lag behind. In the words of Roosen, they are “more like the debris, or ‘fall-out’ of past ideological systems,”45 and, as such, create symbolic bubbles that can last only as long as they do. In this light, we can clearly see the rationale behind Meḥmed’s act of symbolic violence. The Mamluks had been “willing” to readjust diplomatic conventions with the Ottomans, to realign ṣūra and maʿnā time and again up to the 850s/1450s, always to the direct benefit of the Ottomans, and hence indirectly, to their own detriment. Following 857/1453, however, they must have been increasingly reluctant to do so, as this final realignment would have put Istanbul on a symbolic par with Cairo. Yet, while the Mamluks may have “chosen” not to see the ever-widening discrepancy between “appearance” and “reality,” Meḥmed II saw it and realigned them himself, to his gain and glory, and to the Mamluks’ loss and frustration. In 868/1464, the Mamluk symbolic bubble burst, or better, Meḥmed burst it!

5

Taking Leave of the Ottoman Envoy

Even though, in the words of Ibn Iyās, the 868/1464 incident “was the reason enmity arose between the sultan of Egypt and Ibn ʿUthmān, and these cold relations between them would remain (ʿammāl) up to the reign of al-Ashraf Qāytbāy,”46 I do not address its immediate aftermath here, nor do I examine the subsequent development of Ottoman-Mamluk relations up to 923/1517. One interesting question, however, is whether Meḥmed’s symbolic violence paid off. In other words, did the Mamluks yield to this by symbolically upgrading the Ottomans from al-maqarr al-karīm to al-maqām al-ʿālī, or did they rather adhere to the old order, that is, to those diplomatic conventions that reflect the old order? While I have argued for the pivotal role of “precedence” in the change of protocol, it remains unclear whether the one wrought by the envoy in 868/1464 was ever codified. Unfortunately, as observed by Yüksel Muslu, not one relevant inscriptio postdating 868/1464 is available. There are inscriptiones, but none that can be assessed within the hierarchy tabulated above.47 While lack of sources may account for this, one could tentatively argue that this lack of relevant inscriptiones makes perfect sense. After all, Meḥmed unambiguously declared his reluctance to maintain the Mamluks’ “appearances” to the Ottomans’ detriment. Did he and his successors perhaps take this even one step 45 46 47

Ibid. 461. Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr 420. Yüksel Muslu, The Ottomans 162–3.

fixed rules to a changing game?

503

further, and no longer subscribe to the Mamluks’ symbolic ranking, but set one such ranking themselves? Did they continue to play the game, but now by their rules, and not the Mamluks’? The time has now come to bid farewell to our Ottoman envoy. Having delivered Meḥmed’s symbolic blow to Khushqadam, how did he fare? According to Ibn Taghrī Birdī, a few days after the incident, on the ʿĪd al-Fiṭr, 1 Shawwāl 868/7 June 1464, Khushqadam’s temper improved somewhat, as the envoy kissed the ground before him and apologized anew for his failure to do so before. In the words of Ibn Iyās: On the ʿĪd al-Fiṭr, the envoy ascended [to the citadel] and performed the ṣalāt al-ʿīd together with the sultan. Following the prayer, when the sultan had gone inside the castle, the envoy kissed the ground before him, and apologized for his lack of knowledge of the customs of the Egyptian people. The sultan then bestowed a khilʿa upon him and honored him.48 Yet, not all was well and the sultan did not fail to retaliate symbolically. Khushqadam invited the envoy to witness a ceremony, and had him stand below the amirs of 100, while he distributed over 800 khilʿas, quite an astonishing number indeed, even by Mamluks standards: [Having taken his seat on the takht al-mulk, Sultan Khushqadam] bestowed khilʿas upon the amirs and the office holders, as was the annual custom … He made him stand below the amirs of 100. While the envoy was standing, the amirs kissed the ground before the sultan, one after the other, according to their rank. The number of judges, amirs, officials, jundīs and others, upon whom a khilʿa was bestowed, was over eight hundred … The sight of this, the like of which on such a day had never happened before anywhere in the world, greatly impressed the envoy.49 We cannot know what the envoy made of this display of grandeur, whether he understood it as real (power) or saw through it as mere appearance. We may safely assume, however, that he fully understood the message the Mamluk sultan sought to communicate when the latter saw him off, without the company of a return Mamluk envoy:

48 49

Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr 420. Ibn Taghrī Birdī, Ḥawādith al-duhūr iii, 472–73.

504

d’hulster

On Thursday, the ninth [of Shawwāl], the sultan bestowed a khilʿat alsafar upon the envoy of Ibn ʿUthmān, a silk double-sided fawqānī with brocaded embroidery, as well as upon some of his companions, [giving] each of these a sallārī, according to their rank. He then ordered him to depart. The sultan did not send Sūdūn al-Qaṣrawī [along with him, even though,] before the departure of the envoy, he had charged the latter with going to Ibn ʿUthmān together with his envoy. The sultan ordered the envoy to take with him all those presents that he had arranged for Ibn ʿUthmān. Yet, the envoy refrained from doing so, stating that it was customary for the envoy of the [Mamluk] sultan to take them.50 Following three days of negotiations, a twelfth-/eighteenth-century diplomat once remarked: “I am very well but a little weak, which is of no great wonder, for I have sustained the fatigue of the 3 days of Battles in a ceremonial war.”51 When our envoy finally took leave of Khushqadam on 18 Shawwāl/24 June,52 almost three weeks following his arrival, we can only image how exhausted he must have been, after bursting a symbolic bubble on behalf of his Ottoman master, and sustaining symbolic Mamluk violence in retaliation thereof.

6

Postscript

Shortly before the publication of the present volume, a brief passage came to my attention that is highly relevant to this article, and therefore must be appended, even at this late stage. This excerpt is taken from the anonymous alʿUqūd al-jawhariyya fī l-nawādir al-ghawriyya, an early tenth/sixteenth-century Mamluk work that deals with the literary soirees of the Mamluk sultan Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī, and offers a summary that is as crystal-clear as it is succinct. Among the many priceless “pearls” (durar) offered in the second volume (Süleymaniye, MS Ayasofya 3313, fols. 80a–b), there is the following durra on the reason behind the Ottoman sultan Meḥmed’s enmity (sabab ʿadāwatihi) vis-à-vis the Mamluks: 50

51 52

Ibid. 473. Cf. Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr 421: “That same [month, the sultan] bestowed a khilʿa upon the envoy of Ibn ʿUthmān, gave him permission to return, and sent with him a present for Ibn ʿUthmān. He also charged Sūdūn al-Qaṣrawī with accompanying the envoy. Yet, the trip of Sūdūn al-Qaṣrawī was then cancelled, and the envoy departed unaccompanied [by a Mamluk return envoy].” Matthew Prior, aide-de-camps to the Duke of Shrewsbury, at the end of the War of the Spanish Succession (1701–14), quoted in Roosen, Early modern diplomatic 471. Ibn Taghrī Birdī, Ḥawādith al-duhūr iii, 477.

fixed rules to a changing game?

505

(Meḥmed) said, “Why do you address Ḥasanak [literally, “Little Ḥasan,” thus belittling Uzun Ḥasan, the Aq Qoyunlu ruler] as al-maqām al-sharīf, while you address me as al-majlis al-sharīf, [thus merely] using the laqabs of the governor of Damascus?” The [Mamluk] sultan replied, “Because Ḥasanak is the sulṭān al-ʿIrāqayn (sultan of the two Iraqs), and he has conquered these by the sword.” (Meḥmed) then said, “But I too have taken Istanbul by the sword!” Thus the dispute arose (waqaʿa min dhālika lnizāʿ).

Bibliography Primary Sources (Handwritten) Anonymous, al-ʿUqūd al-jawhariyya fī l-nawādir al-ghawriyya, MS Aya Sofya 3313, Istanbul, Süleymaniye Kütüphanesi.

Primary Sources (Printed) ʿĀşıḳ Pāşā-Zāde, Die altosmanische Chronik des ‘Āšiḳpašazāde auf Grund mehrerer neuentdeckter Handschriften von neuem herausgegeben, ed. F. Giese, Osnabrück ²1972. Ferīdūn Beg, Münşeʾātü’l-Selāṭīn, 2 vols., Istanbul ²1857–9. Ibn Ḥijja, Das Rauschgetränk der Stilkunst oder Qahwat al-inšāʾ von Taqīyuddīn Abū Bakr. b. ʿAlī Ibn Ḥiǧǧa al-Ḥamawī al-Azrārī, ed. R. Veselý, Beirut and Berlin 2005. Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr fī waqāʾiʿ al-duhūr, ed. M. Muṣṭafā, vol. 2: 815–872/1412–1468, Wiesbaden 1922. Ibn Taghrī Birdī, Ḥawādith al-duhūr fī madā l-ayyām wa-l-shuhūr, ed. W. Popper, 4 vols., Berkeley 1930–42. al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā fī ṣināʿat al-inshāʾ, ed. M.ʿA. al-R. Ibrāhīm, 14 vols., Cairo 1913–9, 21963.

Secondary Sources Allouche, A., Tegüder’s ultimatum to Qalawun, in IJMES 22 (1990), 437–46. Arı, B., Early Ottoman diplomacy: Ad hoc period, in A. Nuri Yurdusev (ed.), Ottoman Diplomacy: Conventional or unconventional?, Houndmills, Basingstoke 2004, 36–65. Bauden, F., Les Relations diplomatiques entre les sultans mamlouks circassiens et les autre pouvoirs de Dār al-islām. L’apport du ms. ar. 4440 (BnF, Paris), in AI 41 (2007), 1–29. Bauden, F., Mamluk era documentary studies: The state of the art, in MSR 9 (2005), 15– 60. Behrens-Abouseif, D., Cairo of the Mamluks: A history of the architecture and its culture, London and New York 2007.

506

d’hulster

Behrens-Abouseif, D., Practising diplomacy in the Mamluk sultanate: Gifts and material culture in the medieval Islamic world, London 2014. Behrens-Abouseif, D., The citadel of Cairo: Stage for Mamluk ceremonial, in AI 24 (1988), 25–79. Beihammer, A.D., Eastern Mediterranean diplomatics: The present state of research, in Beihammer, M.G. Parani and C.D. Schabel (eds.), Diplomatics in the eastern Mediterranean 1000–1500, Leiden and Boston 2008, 1–24. Björkman, W., Die frühesten türkisch-ägyptischen Beziehungen im 14. Jahrhundert, in O. Turan et al. (eds.), 60. Doğum Yılı Münasebetiyle Fuad Köprülü Armağanı. Mélanges Fuad Köprülü, Istanbul 1953, 57–63. Brett, M., Lingua franca in the Mediterranean: John Wansbrough and the historiography of mediaeval Egypt, in H. Kennedy (ed.), The historiography of Islamic Egypt (c. 950–1800), Leiden, Boston, and Cologne 2000, 1–11. Broadbridge, A.F., Diplomatic conventions in the Mamluk sultanate, in AI 41 (2007), 97–119. Broadbridge, A.F., Kingship and ideology in the Islamic and Mongol worlds, Cambridge 2008. Dekkiche, M., Le Caire, carrefour des ambassades. Étude historique et diplomatiqie de la correspondence échangée entre les sultans mamlouks circassiens et les souverains timourides et turcomans (Qara Qoyunlu–Qaramanides) au XVe s. d’après le ms. ar. 4440 (BnF, Paris), 2 vols., PhD dissertation, University of Liège 2011. Dilger, K., Untersuchungen zur Geschichte des osmanischen Hofzeremoniells im 15. und 16. Jahrhundert, Munich 1967. Erdem, G., Osmanlı imparatorluğu’nda sürekli diplomasi’ye geçiş süreci, PhD dissertation, Ankara Üniversitesi 2008. Favereau, M., Comment le sultan mamlouk s’adressait au khan de la Horde d’Or. Formulaire des lettres et règles d’usage d’après trois manuels de chancellerie (1262–v. 1430), in AI 41 (2007), 59–95. Gökbilgin, M.T., Osmanlı İmparatorluğu Medeniyet Tarihi Çerçevesinde Osmanlı Paleografya ve Diplomatik Dili, Istanbul 1979. Gully, A., The culture of letter-writing in pre-modern Islamic society, Edinburgh 2008. Har-El, S., Struggle for domination in the Middle East: The Ottoman-Mamluk war 1485–91, Leiden 1995. Hattox, R.S., Mehmed the conqueror, the patriarch of Jerusalem, and Mamluk authority, in SI 90 (2000), 105–23. Horniker, A.L., Ottoman-Turkish diplomatics: A guide to the literature, in Balkan Studies 7 (1966), 135–54. İnalcık, H., How to read ‘Āshık Pasha-zāde’s history, in C. Heywood and C. Imber (eds.), Studies in Ottoman history in honour of Professor V.L. Ménage, Istanbul 1994, 139– 56.

fixed rules to a changing game?

507

İnalcık, H., Power relationships between Russia, the Crimea and the Ottoman empire as reflected in titulature, in C. Lemercier-Quelquejay et al. (eds.), Passé turco-tatar, présent soviétique. Études offertes à Alexandre Bennigsen, Leuven 1986, 369–411. Jönsson, C. and M. Hall, Essence of diplomacy, Houndmills, Basingstoke and New York 2005. Karateke, H., An Ottoman protocol register containing ceremonies from 1736 to 1808: BEO Sadaret Defterleri 350 in the prime minister Ottoman state archives, Istanbul and London 2007. Kerslake, C.J., The correspondence between Selim I and Ḳānṣūh al-Ġawrī, in Prilozi za orijentalnu filologiju [Revue de philologie orientale] 30 (1980), 219–34. Little, D., Diplomatic missions and gifts exchanged by Mamluks and Ilkhans, in L. Komaroff (ed.), Beyond the legacy of Genghis Khan, Leiden and Boston 2006, 30– 42. Mas Latrie, L. de, Histoire de l’île de Chypre sous le règne des princes de la maison de Lusignan, 3 vols., Paris 1852–61. Melvin-Koushki, M., The delicate art of aggression: Uzun Hasan’s Fathname to Qaytbay of 1469, in Iranian Studies 44 (2011), 193–214. Ménage, V., On the constituent elements of certain sixteenth-century Ottoman documents, in BSOAS 48 (1985), 289–90. Mitchell, C., Safavid imperial tarassul and the Persian inshā’ tradition, in SIr 26 (1997), 173–209. Pfeiffer, J., Aḥmad Tegüder’s second letter to Qalā’ūn (682/1283), in Pfeiffer, S.A. Quinn, and E. Tucker (eds.), History and historiography of post-Mongol central Asia and the Middle East: Studies in honor of John E. Woods, Wiesbaden 2006, 167–201. Reychman, J. and A. Zajaczkowki, Handbook of Ottoman-Turkish diplomatics, The Hague and Paris 1968. Roemer, H.R., Arabische Herrscherurkunden aus Ägypten, in OL 61 (1966), 325–44. Roosen, W., Early modern diplomatic ceremonial: A systems approach, in Journal of Modern History 52 (1980), 452–76. Stojanow, V., Die Entstehung und Entwicklung der osmanisch-türkischen Paläographie und Diplomatik mit einer Bibliographie, Berlin 1983. Tekindağ, Ş., Berkuk Devrinde Memlûk Sultanlığı (XIV. Yüzyıl Mısır tarihine dair araştırmaları), Istanbul 1961. Tekindağ, Ş., Fatih Devrinde Osmanlı Memluklü Münasebetleri, in İstanbul Üniversitesi Edebiyat Fakültesi Tarih Dergisi 30 (1976), 73–99. al-Thakafi, Y.A., The diplomatic relationship between the Ottoman empire and the Mamluk empire in the first quarter of the sixteenth century, PhD dissertation, Michigan State University 1981. Unat, F.R. and B.S. Baykal, Osmanlı Sefirleri ve Sefaretnameleri, Ankara ³1992. Veselý, R., Ein Kapitel aus den osmanisch-mamlukischen Beziehungen Meḥemmed

508

d’hulster

Çelebi und al-Mu’ayyad Shaykh, in I. Baldauf and S. Faroqhi (eds.), Armağan. Festschrift für Andreas Tietze, Prague 1994, 241–59. Wansbrough, J., Lingua franca in the Mediterranean, Richmond, Surrey 1996. Wittek, P., Le sultan de Rûm, in Annuaire de l’Institut de Philologie et d’Histoire Orientales et Slaves 6 (1938), 361–90. Yüksel Muslu, C., The Ottomans and the Mamluks: Imperial diplomacy and warfare in the Islamic world, London and New York 2014. Yurdusev, A.N., The Ottoman attitude toward diplomacy, in Yurdusev (ed.), Ottoman diplomacy: Conventional or unconventional?, Houndmills, Basingstoke 2004, 5–35.

part 4 The Western Islamic Lands

∵

chapter 14

Diplomatic Correspondence between Nasrid Granada and Mamluk Cairo: the Last Hope for al-Andalus Bárbara Boloix Gallardo

1

The Nasrid Royal Chancery: Some Preliminary Considerations

Like many other Islamic states of its time, an important aspect of the political foundations of the Nasrid Kingdom of Granada (seventh–ninth/thirteenth– fifteenth centuries) was its intense diplomatic activity. First, this fact allowed the new emirate to organize its internal administrative matters—through the issuance of decrees, the release of acts appointing viziers, secretaries, and judges, or the drafting of notarized forms—among other governmental measures. However, the most significant role of the Nasrid chancery was its establishment of political relations between the Kingdom of Granada and other contemporary countries; thereby it effectively contributed to position the Nasrid dynasty in the political context of its time and to export its political identity beyond the emirate’s boundaries. The great importance that the chancery entailed for the Nasrids was reflected in an emblematic statement issued by the anonymous compiler of the secretarial manual titled Faṣl al-khiṭāb fī tarsīl Abī Bakr Ibn Khaṭṭāb. As its title reflects, this work is a compilation of the epistolary production of the secretary Abū Bakr Muḥammad Ibn Khaṭṭāb al-Mursī (d. 686/1287), who worked for the court of the Alhambra in the time of the first Nasrid amir, Muḥammad I (r. 620–71/1232–73).1 In the introduction, the supposed compiler of the abovementioned chancery material, who may have been a disciple of Ibn Khaṭṭāb in Tlemcen called Ibn Khamīs al-Tilimsānī (d. 708/1309), inserted the following definition of the art of letter-writing: The epistolary chancery art is one of the most beautiful ones for embellishing petitions and the most sublime one to search for favors and seek 1 For an updated biography of this figure, see Boloix Gallardo, Ibn Jaṭṭāb. On the rule of Nasrid amir Muḥammad I and the creation of the Kingdom of Granada, see the recent study by Boloix Gallardo, Ibn al-Aḥmar.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2019 | doi:10.1163/9789004384637_015

512

boloix gallardo

[to achieve one’s] aims, and to achieve objectives and demands. It is also the most solemn [way] to demonstrate [one’s] magnanimity, and undertake important issues. Through this [art], eloquent people do not cease approaching leaders and kings, perpetuating the excellences of their glories through the depiction of their great deeds, their marks, their most splendorous necklaces, and their most brilliant behaviors. By this [art], insignificant [issues] are [also] ornamented with merit and transparency …2 Founded in the time of the first Nasrid ruler, Muḥammad I, the Nasrid chancery was likely located in the first part that was built up in the area of the Alhambra, which currently corresponds to its military fortress (the alcazaba). At the end of the same century, the Office of Correspondence or dīwān al-inshāʾ was surely moved to the residential area of the Alhambra, and probably remained in this setting throughout the eighth–ninth/fourteenth–fifteenth centuries; indeed, the location of the Office of Correspondence within the Nasrid palace is reflected in a number of official letters, where it is specified that they were issued “from the Alhambra of Granada” (min Ḥamrāʾ Gharnāṭa).3 However, it was not until the reign of the second sultan of the dynasty, Muḥammad II (r. 671–701/1273–1302) that this and other institutions of the sultanate were consolidated, as the historian and vizier of the Nasrid court Ibn al-Khaṭīb (d. 776/1374) noted.4 Like chanceries of other Islamic states, that of the Nasrid Kingdom developed its own tradition and features, which became representative of its particular style. Although most of its main characteristics were originally coined by the Nasrids, others were adopted from chancery practices developed by previous dynasties that ruled in al-Andalus (such as the Almohads) and contemporary Maghribi realms, as pointed out by both María Jesús Viguera5 and Rachel Arié.6 Among the most emblematic Nasrid stylistic features are their specific ʿalāma (mark of validation of documents),7 and the distinctive red paper that the dynasty chose for their official writings.8 2 Ibn Khaṭṭāb, Faṣl al-khiṭāb 55. 3 Ibid. 81, 86, 91, 110, 115; Ibn al-Khaṭīb, Rayḥānat al-kuttāb i, 298, 492; al-Maqqarī, Nafḥ al-ṭīb i, 323; al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā vii, 414; Colin, Contribution 200, 204. 4 Ibn al-Khaṭīb, al-Iḥāṭa i, 557; Ibn al-Khaṭīb, al-Lamḥa al-badriyya 50. 5 See Viguera Molíns, El soberano 345. 6 See Arié, L’ Espagne musulmane 212. 7 On this mark of ratification, inaugurated in the Muslim West by the Almohad dynasty, see Lévi-Provençal, ʿAlāma. 8 On the evolution and the main features of the Nasrid chancery, see Boloix Gallardo, Aspectos formales.

diplomatic correspondence between granada and cairo

513

As for the first symbol, the ʿalāma, the Nasrid historian Abū Walīd Ismāʿīl Ibn al-Aḥmar (d. 807/1404) provides very accurate information about Nasrid expressions to ratify their official documents. According to his curious treatise, titled Kitāb Mustawdiʿ al-ʿalāma wa-mustabdiʿ al-ʿallāma,9 the first watchword used by the Nasrids in their diplomatic letters was wa-lā ghālib illā Allāh (“There is no Conqueror but God”), derived from the honorific title of amir Muḥammad I, aptly nicknamed al-Ghālib bi-llāh.10 According to Latham, it was during the reign of Sultan Muḥammad II that the expression wa-kutiba fī l-taʾrīkh (“it was written on the date …”) started to be utilized in the Nasrid chancery, in place of the previous phrase.11 It may have been in the eighth/fourteenth century that the wording was finally replaced by that of ṣaḥḥa hādhā (“this is authentic”), which was used up until the extinction of the kingdom in 897/1492; it was also present in the Romance version of some Arabic documents generated in the peninsular Christian realms.12 According to the testimony of Ibn Khaldūn (d. 808/1406), the round red Nasrid seal that appeared at the end of each writing was fixed to the document with very thin red ties, as was the practice at the Merinid court.13 The kind of paper used by the Nasrids for their official epistles was also red, as evidenced by the Nasrid letters kept in the Archives of the Crown of Aragon, all of which were written on red sheets.14 The red color was chosen to represent the dynasty itself in the time of Sultan Muḥammad I, precisely nicknamed “the son of the redheaded one,” according to Ibn ʿIdhārī (seventh– eighth/thirteenth–fourteenth centuries).15 This color tradition accorded with other symbolic manifestations of the lineage, such as its red flags—mentioned by Ibn Khaṭṭāb al-Mursī16—and the name of the seat of their power, the palace of the “Alhambra,” meaning “the red one,” as noted by the Mamluk secretary al-Qalqashandī (d. 821/1418).17

9 10

11 12 13 14 15 16 17

Ibn al-Aḥmar, Mustawdiʿ al-ʿalāma 21. On the resources utilized by the first Nasrid amir to legitimate his political and religious power, and on the study of his genealogical origin, see Boloix Gallardo, The genealogical legitimization. Latham, Ibn al-Aḥmar’s Kitāb 330–1. Ibid. 327; Viguera Molíns, El soberano 348. See also the Nasrid documents reproduced by Muriel Morales, Tres cartas 174, 179, 185; Labarta, La ʿalāma nazarí. Ibn Khaldūn, Muqaddima ii, 680. By way of example, see Torres Delgado, El mediterráneo nazarí; Sistach, El papel árabe 76; Muriel Morales, Tres cartas 172; Torres Delgado, Liberación de cautivos. Ibn ʿIdhārī, al-Bayān al-mughrib 296. Ibn Khaṭṭāb, Faṣl al-khiṭāb 163. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā v, 261.

514

boloix gallardo

These and other features can be found, therefore, in most of the letters the Nasrid court sent to the remote Mamluk Empire; in fact, the use of the red paper (waraq aḥmar) and the ʿalāma in the official epistles they forwarded to Cairo is confirmed by al-Qalqashandī in the ninth/fifteenth century.18

2

Granada and Cairo: a One Way Diplomatic Relationship?

Although the surviving documentation on the diplomacy of the Nasrid court of Granada is not as abundant as we wish it were, it still allows us to confirm the existence of a vigorous political communication between this emirate and other realms. Among the Islamic states with which the Nasrid kingdom maintained diplomatic correspondence were those of the Maghrib and, more specifically, the Almohad Empire of Marrakesh (until the seventh/thirteenth century), the Merinid Kingdom of Fez, the Zayyanid realm of Tlemcen, and the Hafsid Kingdom of Tunisia. Although not located in North Africa, there is also documentary evidence of political contact between the court of the Alhambra and the Muslim Kingdom of Menorca throughout the seventh/thirteenth century. The Christian lands were also included in Nasrid diplomatic channels, which reached the peninsular courts of the crowns of Castile and Aragon,19 and the Italian republics of Genoa, Venice, and others.20 Despite its remoteness, Granada established political contact with other Islamic states located in the Muslim East, especially with the contemporary Mamluk sultanate of Egypt and Syria, and the Ottoman Empire. A fascinating corpus of official letters, issued by Nasrid and Mamluk chanceries, can be found in several Arabic sources and library repositories. Among the most notable epistolary compilations of interesting material on this are the Andalusi work Rayḥānat al-kuttāb wa-najʿat al-muntāb21 by the Grenadine vizier and historian Lisān al-Dīn Ibn al-Khaṭīb (d. 776/1374);22 the Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā fī ṣināʿat al-inshāʾ23 by the celebrated secretary of the Mamluk chancery Shihāb al18 19

20 21 22 23

Ibid. vii, 413. On the relationship between Granada and Aragon, see Giménez Soler, La Corona de Aragón; Alarcón y Santón and García de Linares, Los documentos árabes; Marzal Palacios, Las relaciones. Gary, Génova y Granada; Salicrú, El sultanato nazarí; Arié, L’Espagne musulmane. Ibn al-Khaṭīb, Rayḥānat al-kuttāb. This work was also partially edited and translated by Gaspar Remiro, Correspondencia diplomática. On this emblematic figure of the Nasrid court, see the following studies: Molina López, Ibn al-Jatib; and Lirola Delgado et al., Ibn al-Jaṭīb al-Salmānī. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā.

diplomatic correspondence between granada and cairo

515

Dīn al-Qalqashandī, and the encyclopedic work Nihāyat al-arab fī funūn aladab by the historian Shihāb al-Dīn al-Nuwayrī (d. 733/1333);24 two anonymous manuscripts containing diplomatic news and epistles that will be referred to later; and, finally, the magnificent chronicle Nafḥ al-ṭīb by Shihāb al-Dīn alMaqqarī (d. 1041/1632).25 Other references available in some chronicles and biographical repertoires also confirm the existence of a long-distance diplomatic relationship between the two states. As Luis Seco de Lucena interestingly noted, the communication between Granada and Cairo always revolved around the same topic:26 the relentless pleas from the Nasrids for military support against the Christians and the bleak response from the Mamluks, who only offer the possibility of military supplies, never the Egyptian troops demanded by the Grenadines. These two features are constant in all the letters between Cairo and Granada from the seventh/thirteenth through the ninth/fifteenth centuries. Considering that the North African realms of Marrakech, Fez, Tlemcen, and Tunisia were closer to al-Andalus than Mamluk Egypt, it is surprising that the Nasrids sought military assistance from such a remote Islamic state. To answer this question, we must first understand the history of the military collaboration between Granada and the Maghrib, in order to explain the Nasrid reasons for seeking Mamluk cooperation. From the beginning of the seventh/thirteenth century, the Nasrid dynasty sought the military assistance of the Merinids, who sent several troops to al-Andalus to fight in the jihād against the peninsular Christians.27 Although these Maghribian hordes maintained a special status and singular privileges as compared to Nasrid soldiers, they became integrated into the Nasrid army and played an important role in the battles against Castile from time of the Nasrid amir Muḥammad I until the time of Muḥammad V (r. 755–60/1354–69; 763–93/1362–91). However, after significant Muslim defeats against the Christians, the most emblematic example of which was the disaster of the Battle of the river Salado (741/1340), these Berber coreligionists proved inadequate to the task, and in the eighth/fourteenth century they were once and for all expelled from the Andalusi army by the Nasrid amir. In view of the considerable and alarming interference these troops exerted in Grenadine politics, Sultan Muḥammad V was determined to manage without Merinid mil-

24 25 26 27

Al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab. For the biography of this chronicler, see Chapoutot-Remadi, al-Nuwayrī. Al-Maqqarī, Nafḥ al-ṭīb. Seco de Lucena, Viaje a Oriente 6. See also Arié, Les Relations. For the Merinid military collaboration in al-Andalus, see Manzano Rodríguez, La intervención.

516

boloix gallardo

itary collaboration. This measure weakened the Nasrid militia, which could not count on the assistance of the Merinid sultanate or the help of the Abdalwadids or Hafsids, who were not powerful enough to provide military support to Granada. During the ninth/fifteenth century, as the threat from the crowns of Castile and Aragon increased, the Nasrid Kingdom was also weakened by serious dynastic crises. Their lack of allies in North Africa increased the vulnerability of the Nasrid emirate before an increasingly powerful Castile.28 The irrepressible Christian conquests of cities near Granada, the capital (such as Moclín in 1486; Malaga, Vélez-Málaga, and Castel de Ferro in 1487; Vélez-Blanco, Huércal, Vera and Mojácar in 1488; or Almería and Guadix in 1489) during the well-known ‘Wars for Granada’ (1482–92), made clear to the Nasrids their need for external reinforcements. This situation led the Grenadines to look for assistance from the Mamluk realm, as they were the next Islamic sultanate (geographically speaking) that could provide them with troops to stop the problematic Christian conquests in the southeastern peninsula. The Mamluks were also involved in combating the crusades, which the Castilians and the Aragonese were an active part of, given the papal recognition of their fight against Islam in the Iberian Peninsula. According to the information available, five Nasrid amirs sought the assistance of the Mamluk Empire: Yūsuf I (r. 733–55/1333–54); Muḥammad V (r. 755– 60/1354–9; 763–93/1362–91); Muḥammad IX, nicknamed “the Left-Handed” (r. 1419–27; 1430–1; 1432–45; 851–7/1447–53); Saʿd (r. 1454–5; 1455–62; 1463–4); and finally, Muḥammad XII, better known as ‘Boabdil’ (r. 887–8/1482–3; 892–7/1487–92).

3

Seventh/Thirteenth Century: When Nasrid News Reached Cairo

Although there is no documentary evidence of direct diplomatic relations between Granada and Cairo during the seventh/thirteenth century, it would seem that the Mamluks were acquainted with the course of the jihād in alAndalus against the Christians. Several Oriental Arabic sources show that the Mamluks paid special attention to the Islamic victories achieved in al-Andalus; they were informed of this information by other Western Muslim diplomatic

28

For the last Nasrid request for military help from the Merinids in the ninth/fifteenth century, see Moral Molina, La última misiva.

diplomatic correspondence between granada and cairo

517

channels.29 In this regard, the Damascene historian Abū Shāma (d. 665/1267) echoes the interesting news of a military triumph over the Christians in alAndalus in his celebrated work Kitāb Dhayl al-Rawḍatayn,30 which the eastern chronicler al-Dhahabī (d. 748/1348) transmitted a century later in his wellknown Taʾrīkh al-Islām.31 In his work, Abū Shāma narrates the Islamic triumph as follows: In this year [663/1264–5] a writing arrived in Damascus confirming that a letter (kitāb) from the Maghrib had reached Cairo in [the month of] Jumādā of the same year (21 March–18 April 1265), confirming the victory of the Muslims over the Christians in lands of al-Andalus, the leader of which was the Sultan Abū ʿAbdallāh Ibn al-Aḥmar—may God assist him! Abū Shāma’s announcement refers to the celebrated mudejar revolt organized by the first Nasrid amir Muḥammad I against the Castilian king Alphonso X ‘the Wise’ (r. 1252–84). In this generalized uprising, in which all the border enclaves recently added to Castile participated, the Muslims “killed a lot of [Christians] in a great slaughter, [and] gathered approximately forty-five heads, with which they made a pile [and] called for the prayer.” That happened on Friday, 14 Ramaḍān 662/10 July 1264. Although it is surprising that an event that happened in far-off al-Andalus was reported in Egypt, we must consider that the Mamluk sultan at that time was al-Ẓāhir Rukn al-Dīn Baybars (r. 658–76/1260–77), whose rule was characterized by his diplomatic activity and celebrated military campaigns against the crusaders.32 It is known that he not only combated the Franks, but also the army of the Aragonese James I (r. 1213–76) in the year 668/1269.33 This attitude may perhaps explain his interest in the Muslim victories achieved in al-Andalus over the peninsular Christian infidels, although there is no documentary evidence of direct diplomatic contact—at that point—between the Nasrid emirate and the Mamluk sultanate.

29 30 31 32

33

On the diplomatic relationship between the Mamluks and the Merinids, see Canard, Les Relations. Abū Shāma, Tarājim 234–5. Al-Dhahabī, Taʾrīkh xv, 11. On the rule of this sovereign, see Muir, The Mameluke 13–32; Khowaiter, Baibars the first 77–113; Irwin, The Middle East 37–61; Shalabī, Ḥayāt al-Malik al-Ẓāhir; Thorau, The lion of Egypt 99, 142–57, 120–33; Holt, Early Mamlūk diplomacy; Sīrat al-Malik al-Ẓāhir. On this military encounter between the Aragonese and Mamluk troops, see Khowaiter, Baibars the first 105–6.

518 4

boloix gallardo

Eighth/Fourteenth Century: the Beginnings of the Nasrid–Mamluk Contacts

The first time the Kingdom of Granada turned to the Mamluks to solicit military help was during the reign of Nasrid sultan Yūsuf I (r. 733–55/1333–54), in the middle of the eighth/fourteenth century. This plea was motivated by the tremendous defeat suffered by the Nasrids and the Merinids in the aforementioned Battle of the river Salado (741/1340), against the Castilian king Alphonso XI (r. 1312–50) and his father-in-law, King Afonso IV of Portugal (r. 1325–57).34 It was after this military reversal, when it was clear that the Merinids were inadequate to combat the Castilians, that Yūsuf I sent an official letter to the Mamluk sultan, probably al-Ṣāliḥ Ṣāliḥ (r. 752–5/1351–4), asking him for reinforcements. The vizier and secretary of the Alhambra, Lisān al-Dīn Ibn al-Khaṭīb, was in charge of composing and issuing an epistle with this purpose.35 However, this letter did not have the desired effect; the text was answered by the Mamluk secretary Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-Umarī (d. 749/1349),36 on behalf of the abovementioned sultan, who regretted that he could not help the Nasrids because he needed his warriors to defend his own empire, which was also threatened by the Christians. Otherwise, he claimed, the troops would have reached the Iberian Peninsula before the letter he was writing, which the Mamluk sultan trusted as “an omen of victory, as a brandished sword against the enemy.” Nevertheless, the sultan offered Yūsuf I something that he considered even more useful and efficient than his army: his spiritual support, through prayers that he promised to perform to bring about a Nasrid victory over their Christian enemies: The pleas that we perform for you are so intense that we are certain that Heaven will have compassion on you and will grant you victory. This prayer, which is faster than soldiers, will be more useful if it is answered by Providence, as I wish.37 Following the example of his father, the Nasrid amir Muḥammad V also sought the help of the Mamluk court, to which he apparently addressed several epistles. One of them was also composed by Lisān al-Dīn Ibn al-Khaṭīb and com34 35 36 37

On this military encounter, see Huici Miranda, Las grandes batallas 331–87. Lucena Paredes, Embajadores granadinos 6. For the biography of this figure, see Salibi, Ibn Faḍl Allāh. Zaki, Mémoire sur les relations 473–4.

diplomatic correspondence between granada and cairo

519

piled in the Rayḥānat al-kuttāb38 by the former author and in the magnificent Nafḥ al-ṭīb by al-Maqqarī, although in the latter it was only partially reproduced.39 As for the document, it was sent by the Andalusi amir to the Mamluk sultan al-Manṣūr Muḥammad (r. 762–4/1361–2); Muḥammad V informed the Mamluk sultan about the deposition of his half-brother Ismāʿīl II (r. 760– 1 /1359–60), which occurred in 760/1359 and caused the three-year exile of the legitimate amir (Muḥammad V) to the Merinid court of Fez. The epistle also relates Muḥammad V’s subsequent recovery of the Grenadine throne, in 763/1362, and other events that took place in Granada after the sultan’s return to the Nasrid court. However, the informative value of this document resides not only in the details of the Nasrid petition and the Andalusi emirate’s political situation, but also in Muḥammad V’s reference to the abundant correspondence between his predecessors and the Egyptian court, and his expressed aim to maintain this contact forever.40 Another letter sent by the Nasrid amir Muḥammad V to the Mamluk sultan al-Ashraf Shaʿbān (r. 764–78/1363–77) also appears in Ibn al-Khaṭīb’s Rayḥānat al-kuttāb.41 In this document, the Andalusi ruler congratulates his Egyptian counterpart on the successful expulsion of the Christian troops (from Cyprus) who had occupied Alexandria in the year 766/1365. In exchange, the Nasrid amir describes the victories of his jihād over the peninsular Christians, and informs them about an embassy.42 Fortunately, we have the Mamluk response to that letter, as it was reproduced by its celebrated secretary al-Qalqashandī.43 The text confirms the reception of the previous Nasrid letter, which was written on red paper (waraq aḥmar) in honor of the palace of the Alhambra (known as “the red fortress”). The content of this epistle reveals several details of the previous letter composed by Ibn al-Khaṭīb. The reply reveals that, in his letter, Muḥammad V encouraged the Mamluk court to unite with them in the jihād against the infidels. The Nasrid sultan also informs the Mamluks about the results of the attempted coup of the aforementioned Ismāʿīl II, and his subsequent deposition, “after which he [Muḥammad V] succeeded in vanquishing and killing the intruder amir, and was able to take possession of this throne again, as was

38 39 40 41 42 43

Ibn al-Khaṭīb, Rayḥānat al-kuttāb i, 490–501. Al-Maqqarī, Nafḥ al-ṭīb i, 321–6. Al-ʿAbbādī, El reino de Granada 325–7. Ibn al-Khaṭīb, Rayḥānat al-kuttāb i, 295–303. Al-ʿAbbādī, El reino de Granada 326. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā vii, 413–6.

520

boloix gallardo

his wont.”44 This epistle also includes interesting information on the Nasrid embassy which, according to this text, was sent in Jumādā I 765/5 February– 3 March 1364 by the “lord of the Alhambra of Granada” (ṣāḥib Ḥamrāʾ Gharnāṭa), amir Muḥammad V, to the Mamluks, in an effort to secure military assistance. The letter reports that the Mamluks warmly welcomed the Nasrid emissary, who returned to al-Andalus with two thousand dinars and a considerable amount of medicines.45

5

Ninth/Fifteenth Century: Unanswered Letters, Unheard Petitions

During the last century—the ninth/fifteenth—of Nasrid history, another amir sought Mamluk assistance: Sultan Muḥammad IX, nicknamed ‘the LeftHanded’ (al-aysar). He ordered the composition of a moving letter to the Mamluk sultan al-Ẓāhir Jaqmaq (r. 842–57/1438–53); in it he played on the emotions of his Egyptian counterpart. The epistle, issued in the Alhambra of Granada on 13 Jumādā I 844/9 October 1440, was registered by an anonymous author in a chancery manual and reproduced by G.S. Colin several years ago.46 The epistle announces the arrival of the Nasrid messenger, a diplomat named Muḥammad al-Bunyūlī, who delivered the letter to Cairo. The document confirms that the Andalusi envoy would travel by sea to Alexandria on a Genoese ship, and the cost of the freight was 13,500 fārisī dinars. As for his mission, he was assigned to return to al-Andalus with donations from the Mamluk sultan and other private individuals to the defenseless western Islamic country, as expressed by the following words: [Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad al-Bunyūlī] headed to talk … to the magnificent sultanate … and anticipates [receiving] the alms of the Muslims and gifts of their good deeds (min ṣadaqāt al-muslimīn wa-nawāfil khayri-him) by which they [aim to gain] God’s recompense of the relief and the reward which remain forever in the house of happiness ( fī dār al-naʿīma).47 Fortunately, not only was the letter kept, but we also have the interesting account of the adventures of this Andalusi embassy, in the form of a narration 44 45 46 47

Ibid. vii, 413. Ibid. Colin, Contribution 200–1; Arié, L’ Espagne musulmane 145–6; Bauden, Les Relations 4–9, 17. The original manuscript of the letter is under MS Ar. 4440 of the BnF, Paris. BnF, MS Ar. 4440 58.

diplomatic correspondence between granada and cairo

521

of the trip from Granada to Cairo (by way of a riḥla, or travel diary) undertaken by the Nasrid diplomats. The original manuscript of the account is at the National Library of Madrid (Spain);48 it was discovered by ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz al-Ahwānī,49 since the codex was not included in the catalogue of the aforementioned library. According to the material description made by the Egyptian scholar,50 the manuscript is incomplete—it is missing the beginning and end pages, and its central part lacks several sheets. Its pages, which are not numbered and have no glosses in the margins, are neither thick nor smooth, but are a color between white and yellow, while the ink with which it was written is blackish–brown. There are approximately sixteen lines per page. The work was written in an elaborate Andalusi script; the handwriting is similar to that of other documents from Granada written in the time of the author. The words of the text itself are precise, which shows the high cultural level of its creator. Although the authorship of the epistle is unknown, it seems to have been written by one of the ambassadors traveling to Cairo, possibly the diplomat mentioned in the previous letter, Muḥammad al-Bunyūlī, who was a merchant and talented poet from the Grenadine coastal village of Albuñol.51 As the manuscript lacks the first pages, the account starts when the Nasrid ambassadors, who were traveling in a Christian ship, find themselves in the middle of a naval battle against a Muslim vessel; the battle caused the death of six people and injured many more voyagers on their boat.52 After a few days, the Andalusi emissaries reached the island of Rhodes (Rūdus), located southwest of the Turkish coast, and from there they set sail to Alexandria, where they arrived on Thursday, 6 Rajab 844/1 December 1440. After spending a few days at this coastal town, the Nasrid diplomats then headed to Cairo, carrying their baggage on rented camels and accompanied by a servant of the Mamluk amir.53 Once in Būlāq, where they arrived at dawn of the next Friday, they were visited by the mihmandār54 of Sultan Jaqmaq, who took them to Cairo and put them up in the house of the pilgrim (al-ḥājj) Dāwūd al-Maghribī, as it was close to the fortress. 48 49 50 51 52 53 54

The manuscript was included in bundle number 18602. Al-Ahwānī, Sifāra siyāsiyya. Ibid. 97. Seco de Lucena, Muḥammad IX 196–8. Al-Ahwānī, Sifāra siyāsiyya 97. Ibid. 97–102. Although the script of this word is not clear, according to al-Ahwānī, the author of the account explains that he was the official in charge of preparing the accommodations of ambassadors and guests of the sultan.

522

boloix gallardo

On Monday, 14 Rajab 844/9 December 1440, the Nasrid emissaries were finally received by the sultan, who sent the mihmandār to fetch them and take them to the fortress, where they were dispossessed of their arms, in accordance with the prohibition of armed foreign men entering the palace. After the Nasrid embassy was announced twice, its members were authorized to enter the hall of the throne, among them were the narrator together with the leader of the mission, the pilgrim (al-ḥājj) Abū l-Qāsim, his slave, and his son Abū l-Faḍl, who was carrying the tube (al-jaʿba) that contained the message from the Nasrid amir. The four envoys found the Mamluk sovereign with his retinue in a large hall with a beautiful view over the city; he was wearing a muslin turban and a short curved iron dagger (nimja) at his right side. The great pageantry that surrounded them, and the sumptuous clothes and splendid turbans that the sultan, his amirs, and his military chiefs wore, also amazed the Nasrid emissaries, who after waiting in a corner of the hall, were ordered to advance toward the sultan and introduce themselves. Once they were in front of Sultan Jaqmaq, the aforementioned Abū l-Faḍl untied the tube (al-jaʿba) and took out the message of the Nasrid amir, which the judge Kamāl al-Dīn Ibn al-Barīzī (d. 856/1452), the private secretary of the sultan, took personally and read before him with the following words: Sir—May God make you victorious!—this is a message from the ruler of the peninsula of al-Andalus. He complains of the sufferings that his Christian neighbors have made him endure and asks that you to come to his aid with your help. The Mamluk sultan then promised the emissaries that he would solicit Ibn ʿUthmān (the Ottoman sultan) to help the Nasrid sovereign, although he warned them about the distance between Cairo and Granada, and the impossibility of equipping an entire army for the Nasrids. Not satisfied with his response, the Grenadines then asked for money and supplies only, to which the sultan agreed. Before departing, the author recited a panegyric muwashshaḥa, which is also reproduced in the manuscript. A few days later, the sultan bestowed on them four outfits of woolen cloth from Jerusalem, and lined with squirrel leather, a gift that inspired a poem by the narrator. In return, they gave the sultan some Andalusi merchandise, which they had brought to sell; this included pottery from Malaga, Grenadine injibār,55 clothes made of wool and silk, and many other presents. After they had completed their mission and stayed in Egypt “living in the height [of luxury],” the Nasrid emissaries took advantage of their trip to the East and performed the pilgrimage to Mecca. This account 55

Vílchez Vílchez, La denominación árabe.

diplomatic correspondence between granada and cairo

523

is not the only testimony of what occurred that day during the embassy, but it is certainly the most detailed one. Some Egyptian chroniclers, who composed their works during the Mamluk period, such al-Maqrīzī (d. 845/1442), Ibn Taghrī Birdī (d. 874/1470), Ibn al-Ṣayrafī (d. 900/1495), or al-Sakhāwī (d. 902/1497), also mention this event. An Egyptian carpet that, curiously, ended up ornamenting the summer Nasrid palace of the Generalife, in Granada, may have been brought back by the Grenadine emissaries as an institutional gift from the Mamluk court to the Nasrid amir, as Carlos Vílchez suggests.56 Just six years later, a third Nasrid sultan sought the military assistance of the Mamluk court from the Alhambra of Granada, mentioned as the “house of the kingdom of the jihād in the Iberian Peninsula.” Amir Saʿd (r. 1454–5; 1455–62; 1463–4) sent an urgent epistle, dated Jumādā I 868/11 January–9 February 1464, through his ambassador, the jurist Muḥammad Ibn al-Faqīh. This diplomat went to Cairo and personally informed the Mamluk sultan, al-Ẓāhir Khushqadam (r. 865–72/1461–7), of the dangerous situation in al-Andalus, in anticipation of receiving as many donations as the sultan could provide.57 By that time the peninsular Christians had taken the Nasrid fortresses of Gibraltar, Alicún, and Archidona, which led the Grenadines to live “with the snakes in the same basket.” In this epistle, the Nasrid sultan Saʿd solicited immediate aid from the Mamluks, as he feared an imminent attack by Castile against the Nasrid borders. We do not, however, know whether this embassy received a more favorable reply than did previous embassies. Finally, Muḥammad XII Boabdil (r. 887–8/1482–3; 892–7/1487–92), the last amir of the Nasrid dynasty, also attempted to gain Mamluk support during the Wars for Granada (1482–92). Fearing the definitive conquest of his emirate by the Catholic monarchs who had conquered Malaga,58 the Nasrid amir sent the judge of the community (qāḍī l-jamāʿa) of Granada, Muḥammad b. ʿAlī al-Azraq, to Cairo.59 However, in light of the internecine fighting among the Nasrids at that time, it is possible that the aforementioned envoy did not go to the Mamluk court on behalf of Boabdil but on behalf of himself. Since this qāḍī was among the jurists ( fuqahāʾ) who signed the fatwā (formal legal opinion) in 888/1483 that condemned Boabdil for paying homage and fealty to the Catholic 56

57 58 59

Vílchez Vílchez, La Alfombra del Generalife 147. On this Egyptian rug, see also Marinetto Sánchez, La alfombra del Generalife, and Méndez, La alfombra del Generalife. On textiles produced in the Nasrid Kingdom of Granada, see the recent publication by Bush, Reframing the Alhambra. Bauden, Les Relations 17. This letter was also reproduced by Colin, Contribution 204–5. The copy of the letter is part of the aforementioned MS Ar. 4440, at the BnF, Paris. On several aspects of this embassy, see López de Coca Castañer, Mamelucos. Al-Maqqarī, Azhār al-riyāḍ i, 71; Zaki, Mémoire sur les relations 476–7.

524

boloix gallardo

monarchs, he likely made his personal decision to travel to Cairo in order to convince the Mamluk sultan al-Ashraf Qāytbāy (r. 872–901/1468–96) to recover al-Andalus.60 However his request “was like [one] who asks for Phoenix eggs or looks for a pregnant male horse.” After his failure, al-Azraq then performed the pilgrimage to Mecca; on his return to Egypt, he presented his demand again, and was again unsuccessful. Finally, he was appointed qāḍī l-jamāʿa of Jerusalem, perhaps as a way of distracting him from Nasrid political issues. The Egyptian chronicler Ibn Iyās (d. 930/1524)61 seems to give a different impression: when mentioning the Nasrid embassy of the year 892/1487, he states that the Nasrid amir asked the Mamluks for an army to go to al-Andalus to fight the Christians besieging Granada. Whatever the exact request, the delegation did not produce the expected effects: Qāytbāy never sent military help, instead he made use of diplomatic channels. He wrote a letter to the clergy of the Church of the Resurrection in Jerusalem and urged them to write the king of Naples and persuade him to meet the king of Castile in order that he stop his attacks against al-Andalus; otherwise, Qāytbāy would take reprisals against the priests of the aforementioned church and prohibit European visitors access to that church, which he would then order to be demolished.62 The Mamluk court and the Crown of Aragon negotiated over the situations of those Christians living under the Mamluk authority and the Muslims inhabiting peninsular Christian lands. Ultimately, the Mamluks opted for a pragmatic foreign policy, even over their duty to support their fellow Muslims and members of the Islamic community (umma).

6

Concluding Remarks

Despite the great distance separating the Nasrid realm of Granada from Egypt, this western emirate developed diplomatic communications with the Mamluk Empire, for just one reason: they needed military support to fight their Christian enemies, once they realized that the Merinid support was not sufficient to stop the Castilian and Aragonese threat. Their circumstances led them to turn to Mamluk Cairo as a last hope for the survival of al-Andalus. The lack of sources for the seventh/thirteenth century obliges us to establish the beginning of the epistolary exchange between the two states in the first half of the eighth/fourteenth century. 60 61 62

On the rule of this sovereign, see Petry, Twilight of majesty 15–118; Petry, Protectors or praetorians? 13–28. Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr ii, 273. López de Coca Castañer, Mamelucos 234.

diplomatic correspondence between granada and cairo

525

The Mamluks, however, did not effectively unite with their Andalusi coreligionists. Although several letters and expensive embassies were sent from far-off Granada to Cairo, the Nasrids only obtained spiritual support from the Mamluks, together with some symbolic economic and military supplies. But we wonder: was this really a reciprocal communication? An analysis of the facts leads us to deduce that the Nasrid–Mamluk diplomacy was a one-way relationship. According to the documentation currently available, the Mamluks never showed any real interest in communicating with the tiny, and perhaps insignificant (from their perspective) emirate of Granada. The epistles the Mamluks issued to al-Andalus were responses to Nasrid letters; they never initiated contact themselves.

Bibliography Primary Sources Abū Shāma, Tarājim rijāl al-qarnayn al-sādis wa-l-sābiʿ al-maʿrūf bi-l-Dhayl ʿalā l-Rawḍatayn, ed. M.Z. b. al-Ḥ. al-Kawtharī, Beirut 1974. al-Dhahabī, Taʾrīkh al-Islām wa-wafayāt al-mashāhīr wa-l-aʿlām, 52 vols., ed. B.ʿA. Maʿrūf, Beirut 1990–2000. Ibn al-Aḥmar, Kitāb Mustawdiʿ al-ʿalāma wa-mustabdiʿ al-ʿallāma, ed. M. al-Turkī and M. b. T. al-Tījānī, Tetouan 1964. Ibn ʿIdhārī, al-Bayān al-mughrib fī khtiṣār akhbār mulūk al-Andalus wa-l-Maghrib, volume of the Almohads, ed. M.I. al-Kattānī, M. Zaynabar, M. b. Tāwit and ʿA. alQ. Zamāma, Beirut and Casablanca 1985. Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr fī waqāʾiʿ al-duhūr, trans. G. Wiet, in Journal d’un bourgeois du Caire: chronique d’Ibn Iyās, 2 vols., Paris 1955–60. Ibn Khaldūn, Muqaddimat Ibn Khaldūn, ed. ʿA.ʿA. al-W. Wāfī, 3 vols., Cairo 1979–81. Ibn al-Khaṭīb, al-Iḥāṭa fī akhbār Gharnāṭa, ed. M.ʿA.A. ʿInān, 4 vols., Cairo 2001. Ibn al-Khaṭīb, al-Lamḥa al-badriyya fī l-dawla al-naṣriyya, ed. M. al-D. al-Khaṭīb, Beirut 1980. Ibn al-Khaṭīb, Rayḥānat al-kuttāb wa-najʿat al-muntāb, ed. M.ʿA.A. ʿInān, 2 vols., Cairo 1980–1. Ibn Khaṭṭāb, Faṣl al-khiṭāb fī tarsīl Abī Bakr Ibn Khaṭṭāb, ed. El Ghailani, Madrid 1994. al-Maqqarī, Azhār al-riyāḍ, ed. M. al-Saqqāʾ, I. al-Abyārī, and ʿA. al-Ḥ. Shalabī, 4 vols., Cairo 1939. al-Maqqarī, Nafḥ al-ṭīb min ghusn al-Andalus al-raṭīb wa-dhikr wazīrihi Lisān al-Dīn Ibn al-Khaṭīb, ed. I. ʿAbbās, 8 vols., Beirut 1968. al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab fī funūn al-adab, 33 vols., Cairo 1923–92. al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā fī ṣināʿat al-inshāʾ, ed. M.ʿA. al-R. Ibrāhīm, 14 vols., Cairo 1913–9, 21963.

526

boloix gallardo

Sīrat al-Malik al-Ẓāhir Baybars: ḥasab al-riwāya al-shāmiyya, ed. G. Bohas and K. Zakariya, vol. 1, Damascus 2000.

Secondary Sources al-ʿAbbādī, H.M., El reino de Granada en la época de Muḥammad V, Madrid 1973. al-ʿAbbādī, H.M., Las artes del libro en al-Andalus y el Magreb (siglos IV H/X d C–VIII H/XV d C), Madrid 2005. al-Ahwānī, ʿA. al-ʿA., Sifāra siyāsiyya min Gharnāṭa ilā l-Qāhira fī l-qarn al-tāsiʿ al-hijrī (sana 844), in Majallat Kulliyat al-Ādāb 16 (1954), 95–121. Alarcón y Santón, M.A. and García de Linares, R.Y.T.P., Los documentos árabes diplomáticos del Archivo de la Corona de Aragón, Madrid 1940. Arié, R., L’Espagne musulmane au temps des Nasrides (1232–1492), Paris 1990. Arié, R., Les Relations diplomatiques et culturelles entre Musulmans d’Espagne et musulmans d’Orient au temps de Naṣrides, in Mélanges de la Casa de Velázquez 1 (1965), 87–107. Bauden, F., Les Relations diplomatiques entre les sultans mamlouks circassiens et les autres pouvoirs du Dār al-islām. L’apport du ms. ar. 4440 (BNF, Paris), in AI 41 (2007), 1–29. Boloix Gallardo, B., Aspectos formales de los documentos cancillerescos nazaríes. Tradición y tipología, in M. Ammadi (ed.), Manuscritos: papel, técnicas y dimensión cultural. Actas del Congreso Internacional “IV Primavera del Manuscrito Andalusí,” Casablanca 2012, 195–222. Boloix Gallardo, B., Ibn al-Aḥmar, vida y reinado del primer sultán de Granada (1195– 1273), Granada 2017. Boloix Gallardo, B., Ibn Jaṭṭāb, Abū Bakr Muḥammad, in J. Lirola Delgado and J.M. Puerta Vílchez (eds.), Biblioteca de al-Andalus, Almería 2004, iii, 712–8. Boloix Gallardo, B., The genealogical legitimization of the Naṣrid dynasty (13th– 15th centuries): The alleged Anṣārī origins of the Banū Naṣr, in A.K. Bennison (ed.), The articulation of power in medieval Iberia and the Maghrib, Oxford 2014, 61–85. Bush, O., Reframing the Alhambra: Architecture, poetry, textiles, and court ceremonials, Edinburgh 2018. Canard, M., Les Relations entre les Mérinides et les Mamelouks au XIVe siècle, in AIÉOA 5 (1936–41), 41–8. Chapoutot-Remadi, M., al-Nuwayrī, in EI2, viii, 156–60. Colin, G.S., Contribution à l’étude des relations diplomatiques entre les musulmans d’Occident et l’Égypte au XVe siècle, in Mélanges Maspero, vol. 3: Orient islamique, Cairo 1935–40, 197–206. Darrag, A., L’Égypte sous le règne de Barsbay (825–841/1422–1438), Damascus 1961. Fábregas, A., Acercamientos y acuerdos comerciales entre Granada y Venecia al filo del 1400, in AEM 40/2 (2010), 643–64.

diplomatic correspondence between granada and cairo

527

Gary, B., Génova y Granada en el siglo XIII: Los acuerdos de 1279 y 1298, in Saggi e Documenti 6 (1985), 73–206. Gaspar y Remiro, G., Correspondencia diplomática entre Granada y Fez, Granada 1916. Giménez Soler, A., La Corona de Aragón y Granada. Historia de las relaciones entre ambos reinos, Barcelona 1908. González Maurazos, G., La documentación diplomática entre la Corona de Aragón y el Sultanato mameluco durante el reinado de Jaime II: un ejemplo de las transformaciones en las relaciones internacionales del ámbito mediterráneo en la Baja Edad Media, in Anales de la Universidad de Alicante, Historia Medieval, 11 (1996–7), 395– 403. Holt, P.M., Early Mamlūk diplomacy (1260–1290): Treaties of Baybars and Qalāwūn with Christian rulers, Leiden and New York 1995. Huici Miranda, A., Las grandes batallas de la Reconquista durante las invasiones africanas, Granada 2000. Irwin, R., The Middle East in the middle ages: The early Mamluk sultanate: 1250–1382, Carbondale and Edwardsville IL 1986. Khowaiter, A., Baibars the first: His endeavours and achievements, London 1978. Labarta, A., La ʿalāma nazarí: una galería de autógrafos reales, in Revista del Centro de Estudios Históricos de Granada y su Reino 30 (2018), 27–49. Latham, J.D., Ibn al-Aḥmar’s Kitāb mustawdaʿ al-ʿalāma: Towards a commentary on the author’s introduction, in J.D. Latham (ed.), From Muslim Spain to Barbary: Studies in the history and culture of the Muslim west, London 1986, 313–32. Lévi-Provençal, É., ʿAlāma, in EI2, i, 352. Lirola Delgado, J., R. Arié, et al., Ibn al-Jaṭīb al-Salmānī, Lisān al-Dīn, in J. Lirola Delgado (dir.), Biblioteca de al-Andalus, Almería 2004, iii, 643–98. López de Coca Castañer, J.E., Génova y el Reino de Granada (siglos XIII–XV), in S. Cavaviocchi (ed.), Relazioni economiche tra Europa e mondo islámico, secc. XIII–XVIII: Atti della trentottesima settimana di studi, 1–5 maggio 2006, Florence 2007, 267–94. López de Coca Castañer, J.E., Mamelucos, otomanos y caída del reino de Granada, in En la España medieval 28 (2005), 229–58. Lucena Paredes, Embajadores granadinos en El Cairo, in MEAH 4 (1955), 5–30. Manzano Rodríguez, La intervención de los Benimerines en la península Ibérica, Madrid 1992. Marinetto Sánchez, P., La alfombra del Generalife: su origen y posible uso en la Granada nazarí, in Cuadernos de la Alhambra 40 (2004), 155–76. Marzal Palacios, J., Las relaciones entre la Corona de Aragón y Granada: reflexiones desde Valencia, in Revista d’Historia Medieval 10 (1999), 301–12. Méndez, L., La alfombra del Generalife, in Descubrir el Arte 64 (2004), 120–2. Molina López, E., Ibn al-Jatib, Granada 2001. Moral Molina, C., La última misiva diplomática de al-Andalus: la risāla de al-‘Uqaylī,

528

boloix gallardo

enviada por Boabdil al sultán de Fez en demanda de asilo, in C. Del Moral (ed.), En el epílogo del Islam andalusí: La Granada del siglo XV, Granada 2002, 201–59. Muir, W., The Mameluke or slave dynasty of Egypt: A history of Egypt from the fall of the Ayyubite dynasties to the conquest by the Osmanlis, A.D.1260–1517, London 1896 (rep. Amsterdam 1968). Muriel Morales, F., Tres cartas de la cancillería del Muḥammad IX de Granada, in alAndalus-Magreb 5 (1997), 171–88. Petry, C.F., Protectors or praetorians? The last Mamlūk sultans and Egypt’s waning as a great power, New York 1994. Petry, C.F., Twilight of majesty: The reigns of the Mamlūk sultans al-Ashraf Qāytbāy and Qānṣūh al-Ghawrī in Egypt, London and Seattle 1993. Saavedra, E., Homenaje a D. Francisco Codera en su jubilación del profesorado: estudios de erudición oriental con una introducción de Eduardo Saavedra, Saragossa 1904. Salibi, K.S., Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, in EI2, iii, 758–9. Salicrú, R., El sultanato nazarí de Granada: Génova y la Corona de Aragón en el siglo XV, Granada 2007. Seco de Lucena, L., Muḥammad IX, Sultan de Granada, Granada 1978. Seco de Lucena, L., Viaje a Oriente. Embajadores granadinos en El Cairo, in MEAH 4 (1995), 5–30. Shalabī, M., Ḥayāt al-Malik al-Ẓāhir Baybars: al-asad al-ḍārī, qāhir al-Tatār wa-mudammir al-Ṣalībiyyīn, Beirut 1992. Sistach, C., El papel árabe en la Corona de Aragón, in Actas del II Congreso Nacional de Historia del Papel en España, Cuenca 1999, 70–8. Thorau, P., The lion of Egypt: Sultan Baybars I and the near east in the thirteenth century, London and New York 1992. Torres Delgado, C., El mediterráneo nazarí. Diplomacia y piratería. Siglos XIII–XIV, in AEM 10 (1980), 227–35. Torres Delgado, C., Liberación de cautivos del reino de Granada. Siglo XV, En la España Medieval 3 (1982), 639–52. Viguera Molíns, M.J., El soberano, visires y secretarios, in Viguera Molíns (ed.), El Reino Nazarí de Granada (1232–1492). Política e instituciones. Espacio y economía, Madrid 2000, viii/3, 317–63. Vílchez Vílchez, C., La Alfombra del Generalife. ¿Cómo pudo llegar desde el Egipto Mameluco al sultanato nazarí de Granada en el siglo XV?, Revista del Centro de Estudios Históricos de Granada y su Reino 20 (2008), 145–50. Vílchez Vílchez, C., La denominación árabe de la tinaja nazarí granadina: inšibār o inŷibār, in Miscelánea de Estudios Árabes y Hebraicos, Sección Árabe-Islam 63 (2014), 335–41. Zaki, A., Mémoire sur les relations entre l’Égypte et l’Espagne pendant l’occupation musulmane, in Homenaje a D. Francisco Codera en su jubilacion del profesorado, Saragossa 1904, 455–81.

chapter 15

Entre Ifrīqiya hafside et Égypte mamelouke: Des relations anciennes, continues et consolidées Mounira Chapoutot-Remadi

Les relations entre l’Ifrīqiya et l’Égypte sont très anciennes.1 On peut même dire qu’elles ont toujours existé à travers les siècles. L’intégration de ces pays dans une même aire géographique et culturelle a contribué à les renforcer. Rappelons-nous que l’Ifrīqiya et l’ensemble de l’ Occident musulman ont été conquis par les Arabes à partir de l’Égypte et que la route du pèlerinage des Maghrébins passait toujours par l’Égypte. Alexandrie a été tout au long du Moyen Âge le port d’arrivée des marchandises et des hommes venant d’ Ifrīqiya et de l’ensemble de l’Occident musulman. La route terrestre qui longe la côte jusqu’en Ifrīqiya, al-Jādda al-kubrā, est déjà mentionnée par al-Yaʿqūbī2. À l’ époque fatimide, l’Ifrīqiya et l’Égypte ont même fait partie de cet « espace médian» décrit par Thierry Bianquis3. Au XIIe siècle, l’unification de l’Occident musulman par les Almohades paraissait en passe d’ouvrir une nouvelle page de l’ histoire du monde musulman. Si, comme le remarque André Miquel, «le Maghreb fait une entrée fracassante dans la littérature géographique4», il cesse d’ être à la traîne de l’ Orient et les Almohades ambitionnent même de réunifier le monde musulman. En cela, ils se heurtent à des projets semblables portés par Saladin. Ce heurt des aspirations a conduit à un premier choc et instauré une certaine méfiance5. Pourtant les Almohades et leurs successeurs d’ une part, les Ayyoubides et les Mamelouks d’autre part, ont affronté pareillement l’ offensive de l’ Occident chrétien. Ce danger commun, s’il ne les a pas rapprochés, a en fait entravé toute collaboration éventuelle; cependant, la guerre sainte menée ici et là a donné une légitimité aux uns comme aux autres.

1 Je voudrais exprimer toute ma gratitude à Frédéric Bauden qui m’a invitée au colloque de Liège et également à Malika Dekkiche qui très gentiment m’a communiqué des documents pour réaliser cette étude. 2 Al-Yaʿqūbī, Kitāb al-Buldān 136. 3 Bianquis, Les Pouvoirs de l’ espace ismaïlien 84. 4 Miquel, La Géographie 64. 5 Cf. Eddé, Saladin. Le rappel précis de ces relations nous éloignerait de notre propos.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2019 | doi:10.1163/9789004384637_016

530

chapoutot-remadi

Alors que leurs prédécesseurs almoravides s’ étaient contentés du titre de amīr al-muslimīn6, les Almohades s’étaient proclamés califes dès 525/1130 et les Hafsides héritent de leurs prétentions. Par contre ni Saladin et les Ayyoubides ni les Mamelouks ne les imiteront, bien au contraire; le déclin puis la disparition du califat abbasside de Bagdad ont entraîné sa restauration au Caire sous l’aile «protectrice» de Baybars et de ses successeurs dans le but d’ obtenir l’ investiture à chaque avènement. Quatre États sont nés du démembrement de l’ empire almohade et ses épigones se ressemblent; les voyageurs des quatre États du Maghreb partagent les mêmes itinéraires – maritime et terrestre – et figurent dans la même convoi de pèlerins, rakb al-Maghrib. De même, les auteurs de manuels de chancellerie orientaux mentionnent, dans un même chapitre, les correspondances échangées avec les souverains de ces États, sous la rubrique mukātabāt mulūk alMaghrib7. Ces préliminaires étant posés, nous envisageons d’ analyser la nature des relations entre Ifrīqiya hafside et Égypte mamelouke en trois points principaux.

1

Entre l’Ifrīqiya et l’Égypte à l’époque turque, des relations peu amicales

La mésentente entre ces deux États pourrait se décliner en trois épisodes correspondant au règne de trois grands sultans mamelouks : Baybars, Qalāwūn et Muḥammad b. Qalāwūn. 1.1 L’Ifrīqiya serait-elle pour l’Égypte une sorte de « Yémen de l’ Ouest » ? Si l’on se réfère aux auteurs des manuels de chancellerie, ils évoquent généralement le Yémen puis le Maghreb, comme si l’ un était la réplique orientale de l’autre et réciproquement8. D’ailleurs Saladin avait projeté presque simultanément de conquérir le Yémen et l’Ifrīqiya. Dans son récit de voyage, al-Tijānī met clairement en parallèle les deux projets de Saladin9. Si l’ aventure réussit au Yémen, en Ifrīqiya, elle a mis, en particulier le sud du pays, à feu et à sang,

6 7 8 9

Parce qu’ ils cherchaient à obtenir la reconnaissance de leur pouvoir par les Abbassides. Ibn Nāẓir al-Jaysh, Tathqīf al-Taʿrīf 21 sqq. Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, al-Taʿrīf 36 et 39 (le sultan du Yémen puis le sultan mérinide). Al-Tijānī, al-Riḥla 111–2. Il est vrai qu’ il y eut également une expédition en Nubie mais nous n’ en tiendrons pas compte.

entre ifrīqiya hafside et égypte mamelouke

531

pendant près d’un demi-siècle, provoqué le déclin des Almohades et accéléré l’ avènement des Hafsides en tant que dynastie autonome. Ces débuts hostiles et expansionnistes vont peut-être peser, pendant un certain temps, sur les relations avec l’Égypte. Ce que nous en retiendrons cependant c’est surtout la contestation du laqab califien dans les lettres de Saladin à al-Manṣūr10 ; cette réticence et même ce refus de reconnaissance apparaît d’une manière constante chez les auteurs de manuels de chancellerie comme chez les autres historiens égyptiens et syriens. Selon les auteurs orientaux, les Almohades et, après eux, les Hafsides, auraient dû se contenter du simple laqab d’amīr al-muslimīn. Pourtant, les relations entre les premiers hafsides et les derniers sultans ayyoubides étaient bonnes au point que le fondateur de la dynastie, Abū Zakariyyāʾ Yaḥyā I (627–47/1229–49) s’est empressé d’ alerter al-Ṣāliḥ II Najm al-Dīn Ayyūb sur l’arrivée prochaine de la flotte croisée de Louis IX qui se dirigeait vers l’Égypte; il lui exprime ses regrets de ne pouvoir l’ aider à la repousser, devant lui-même affronter l’ennemi sicilien voisin d’ une part et les prédations des nomades (Aʿrāb) sur son territoire11. En 1270, Baybars, à son tour, alertera al-Mustanṣir au sujet de l’ arrivée imminente de la flotte de Saint Louis à Tunis. Il envoie des renforts, ordonne aux tribus de Cyrénaïque et du Maghreb de se porter au secours du hafside, et même de creuser des puits sur leur chemin pour abreuver les troupes12. Lorsque Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad (647–75/1249–7713) prend le titre de calife (amīr al-muʾminīn) et le laqab d’al-Mustanṣir en 650/125314, Baybars alManṣūrī enregistre l’événement en des termes empreints d’ ironie, mais pas les autres auteurs15. Pourtant, al-Mustanṣir, qui avait reçu à son avènement l’ allégeance de l’Andalus, des Mérinides de Fès et de quelques villes du Magh-

10 11 12 13

14 15

Ibn Khaldūn, al-Muqaddima i, 468 ; trad. Cheddadi, 567; Eddé, Saladin 298–303. Ibn Qunfudh, al-Fārisiyya 112. Ibn Qunfudh précise que la lettre fut envoyée par la route terrestre, par crainte de rencontrer la flotte croisée en mer. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk i, 590. Al-Zarkashī, Tārīkh al-dawlatayn 70–1 ; Ibn Qunfudh, al-Fārisiyya 117. Il est intéressant de noter que la biographie contenue dans al-Ṣafadī, al-Wāfī v, 202–4 (n° 2264), ne dit mot sur ses prétentions au califat et souligne qu’ il est berbère et almohade. Saadaoui, Inscription 3–4. Cette inscription atteste qu’au début de cette même année, il ne s’ appelait que al-Amīr al-ajall (l’ émir illustre). Ibn Wāṣil, Mufarrij al-kurūb vi, 135; al-Yūnīnī, Dhayl iii, 209–18; Baybars al-Manṣūrī, Zubdat al-fikra 12. La version d’ Ibn Shaddād est peut-être la plus amusante: Tārīkh al-Malik al-Ẓāhir 192ý ; Ibn al-Furāt, Tārīkh vii, 56 ; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Nujūm al-zāhira vii, 32.

532

chapoutot-remadi

reb16, aurait été également reconnu par la Syrie17. En 657/1259, le chérif de La Mecque Abū Numayy envoie une «lettre d’allégeance» (risālat al-bayʿa18) à son tour. Il semblerait que l’Égypte de Quṭuz aurait alors reconnu le sultan hafside Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad I al-Mustanṣir. Après la victoire de ʿAyn Jālūt, en 659/ 1260, une lettre de victoire (risālat al-fatḥ) parvient à Tunis, missive dans laquelle al-Mustanṣir est effectivement appelé amīr al-muʾminīn19; de même l’extrait de la lettre de Baybars reproduit par al-Nuwayrī énumère, parmi les laqabs du sultan de Tunis, celui d’ amīr almuʾminīn20. Par conséquent, jusqu’au pèlerinage de Baybars de 668/1270, al-Mustanṣir était d’une certaine manière reconnu comme calife urbi et orbi. Cependant, l’ accueil successif au Caire de deux rescapés abbassides qui étaient parvenus à échapper au massacre des armées de Hülegü et leur investiture comme califes, allait certainement changer le cours des choses. La démarche de Baybars a été plus habile et elle se situe dans la droite ligne de l’ attitude inaugurée par Saladin; la reconnaissance puis l’hébergement d’un calife abbasside au Caire allait servir à légitimer chaque nouveau sultan. Les souverains mamelouks en général n’ont pas cherché à se donner un nasab arabe et encore moins qurayshite comme l’ont fait les Hafsides et les autres dynasties maghrébines! Quoique les Circassiens et les Rasoulides aient revendiqué une origine ghassanide21.

16

17

18

19

20 21

Ibn Khaldūn, Kitāb al-ʿIbar vi, 600, 607, 611, 614, 615, 617, 618; trad. Cheddadi ii, 459, 465, 468, 471, 472, 473, 474; Ibn Qunfudh, al-Fārisiyya 119. Abū Zakariyyāʾ Yaḥyā I apparaît comme le souverain le plus puissant de l’ Occident musulman et les autres États et villes lui prêtent allégeance. Les dates divergent d’ une source à l’autre. Cf. Brunschvig, La Berbérie orientale i, 4–47. La Syrie étant divisée en principautés (mamālik) à l’époque ayyoubide puis en niyābāt à l’ époque mamlouke. Cette reconnaissance syrienne sinon damascène, par son caractère vague, nous paraît douteuse. Ibn Qunfudh, al-Fārisiyya 120 ; al-Zarkashī, Tārīkh al-dawlatayn 70, 79; Ibn Shammāʿ, alAdilla al-bayyina 67 ; Ibn Khaldūn, Kitāb al-ʿIbar vi, 634–51; trad. Cheddadi ii, 487–8 (l’ auteur a renoncé à traduire le texte de la bayʿa). Ibn Qunfudh, al-Fārisiyya 126. Cette information est corroborée par Ibn Wāṣil, Mufarrij alkurūb vi, 135, qui signale l’ arrivée d’ une lettre de victoire, après la croisade de Saint Louis de 1270, adressée en Égypte au temps de Baybars. Elle a été diffusée et est parvenue au gouverneur de Hama, al-Malik al-Manṣūr. Al-Kutubī, Fawāt i, 231–2. Al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab viii, 101–5. Ibn Khaldūn, Kitāb al-ʿIbar vi, 1011–2 ; al-ʿAynī, al-Sayf al-muhannad 27, 48; al-ʿAynī, alRawḍ al-zāhir 5–6 ; al-Khazrajī, al-ʿUqūd al-luʾluʾiyya i, 17–37. L’auteure a un article en préparation sur la question.

entre ifrīqiya hafside et égypte mamelouke

533

1.2 Baybars, le califat et la guerre sainte En fait, Baybars construisait progressivement son image de souverain musulman légitime, en particulier avec son historiographe, Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir. D’ après une inscription retrouvée dans la citadelle de Damas, datant de 659/1260, il se fait octroyer la titulature en khādim al-ḥaramayn al-sharīfayn, serviteur des deux villes saintes22, après avoir reconnu le premier rescapé abbasside, alMustanṣir comme calife, puis le deuxième. Peu après, il envoie des ouvriers pour restaurer et prendre en charge l’entretien du sanctuaire de Médine en 661/126323. Deux ans plus tard, en 662/1264, la khuṭba est prononcée en son nom à La Mecque et il reçoit les clés de la Kaʿba24. Peu après, il envoie le voile (kiswa) de la Kaʿba, l’étoffe de soie noire brodée de versets coraniques et des titulatures du sultan25. Son pèlerinage en 668/1269 marque un tournant important dans le problème de l’allégeance et du protectorat restauré de l’ Égypte sur les villes saintes et le Hejaz. Ce pèlerinage est une véritable démonstration de force à l’ égard des chérifs eux-mêmes et du sultan du Yémen qui avait les mêmes ambitions que lui et, plus tard, à l’égard du sultan hafside Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad I al-Mustanṣir. En outre, le sultan fait rechercher Ibn Sabʿīn en vain, probablement pour le supprimer26. De là, il écrit au sultan du Yémen une lettre de menaces dans laquelle il lui dit en substance: « Je suis arrivé ici en dix-sept khaṭwa (étapes27)», soulignant la rapidité de son périple et l’ éventualité de pousser jusqu’au Yémen. Il lui exprime également son mépris car, selon lui, le vrai jihād est celui qui est mené contre les Mongols: « le souverain légitime est celui qui mène la guerre sainte, celui qui se consacre à la défense de la religion. D’ailleurs si tu étais un vrai souverain, tu irais combattre les Mongols28 ». Du côté de l’Ifrīqiya, la lettre qu’al-Mustanṣir lui a adressée en même temps que les cadeaux avait été jugée incorrecte, sinon quelque peu irrespectueuse ( fīhā taqṣīr fī l-mukhāṭaba); elle sert à Baybars de prétexte pour lui exprimer sa désapprobation. Il lui envoie une lettre pleine de remontrances dans laquelle il condamne son attitude peu combative et même pleutre face à Saint Louis et 22 23

24 25 26 27 28

Darrag, L’ Égypte 160 ; al-Bāshā, al-Alqāb al-islāmiyya 268. L’ incendie de Médine en 654/1256, considéré comme un signe prémonitoire précédant la destruction de Bagdad par les Mongols et la disparition du califat abbasside, nécessitait les travaux de restauration lancés par Baybars. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk i, 445, 502. Ibid. i, 504–5. Ibid. i, 512. Al-Fāsī, al-ʿIqd al-thamīn v, 333 (n° 1700). Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk i, 581 ; al-Khazrajī, al-ʿUqūd al-luʾluʾiyya i, 40. Ce dernier fait état de la lettre de menaces de Baybars. Ibid.

534

chapoutot-remadi

aux croisés, sa mauvaise conduite, et son recours à une milice chrétienne. Pour toutes ces raisons, il est donc indigne d’être amīr al-muʾminīn29 ! Ainsi donc Baybars s’affirme comme le parangon du jihād et les autres souverains musulmans apparaissent comme des repoussoirs indignes de lui, car il est le seul champion de la guerre sainte et le protecteur par excellence des lieux saints! C’est peut-être ce qui fait écrire à Gaston Wiet : les Mamelouks nouveaux souverains de l’Égypte purent craindre à un moment que La Mecque et Médine leur échappassent et «l’un des buts du sultan Baybars, en intronisant au Caire les débris de la famille abbasside, fut de reprendre à l’ influence hafside les villes saintes, l’un des objectifs les plus constants de la politique égyptienne30». Les secrétaires de chancellerie, depuis al-Qāḍī l-Fāḍil jusqu’ à al-Saḥmāwī, ont la même attitude de mépris à l’égard des prétentions des Hafsides ; leur réticence à l’égard de ce titre auto-octroyé est réitérée par tous. Selon eux, ces derniers auraient pu se contenter du laqab d’ amīr al-muslimīn, comme l’ avaient fait les Almoravides et, après eux, les souverains mérinides et abdelwadides31. Ils soulignent leur prétention affichée d’ avoir pour ancêtre le calife ʿUmar b. al-Khaṭṭāb, alors qu’ils sont berbères, ainsi que leur exigence protocolaire d’ajouter, dans l’énumération de leur généalogie, après chaque nom, la mention ibn amīr al-muʾminīn dans les correspondances. 1.3 Le deuxième épisode: un prétendant au trône parrainé par Qalāwūn Au lendemain de la victoire de Homs sur les Mongols en 680/1281, les ambassadeurs étrangers, des puissances chrétiennes et musulmanes, se pressent à la cour du Caire. Parmi les messagers, ceux du sultan du Yémen, al-Malik alMuẓaffar Yūsuf I (647–94/1250–95) apportent le cadeau annuel ; était-ce un tribut ou était-il considéré comme tel? Il sollicite en retour l’ envoi d’ un qamīṣ, une tunique sur laquelle un amān, sauf-conduit, serait inscrit avec la devise du sultan et celle de son fils et héritier présomptif al-Ṣāliḥ ʿAlī32.

29 30 31

32

Ibid. i, 601. Wiet, L’ Égypte arabe 437–8. Pourtant Yaḥyā b. Khaldūn (m. 781/1379), dans son histoire des Abdalwadides, confère à son maître Abū Ḥammū Mūsā II, le titre de calife : Bughyat al-ruwwād fī dhikr al-mulūk min Banī ʿAbd al-Wād wa-mā ḥāzahu mawlānā l-khalīfa Abū Ḥammū min al-sharaf al-rāsikh alatwād (« Livre de l’ objet des désirs des voyageurs ou Histoire des rois de la famille des Abdalwadides et exposition de la solide et stable gloire que possède notre maître, le calife Abū Ḥammū »). Ce titre octroyé ici est peut-être seulement l’expression d’un courtisan à l’ égard de son maître. Baybars al-Manṣūrī, Zubdat al-fikra 208–9 ; Ibn al-Furāt, Tārīkh al-duwal vii, 228; al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk i, 702. Le texte de l’amān est entièrement noté par Baybars al-Manṣūrī.

entre ifrīqiya hafside et égypte mamelouke

535

Qalāwūn reçoit également Murgham b. Ṣābir, un émir des Arabes Dabbāb33 de Tripoli qui sollicite l’aide du sultan pour s’emparer du pouvoir en Ifrīqiya et promet en échange de faire ensuite la khuṭba au nom du sultan mamelouk. Qalāwūn décline toute intervention directe eu égard au danger mongol toujours présent aux frontières de la Syrie, mais il offre des étendards, des robes d’honneur et des cadeaux. L’émir des Dabbāb, entraînant avec lui les tribus arabes Sulaym, se fait le champion d’un pseudo-prince hafside al-Faḍl qui est en réalité un aventurier du nom Aḥmad b. Marzūq b. Abī ʿUmāra, ancien tailleur de Masīla (M’sila, Algérie)34. Avec son armée, grossie des tribus arabes du sud, Murgham b. Ṣābir arrive à Tunis et son candidat prend le pouvoir et aurait prononcé la khuṭba au nom de Qalāwūn35. Les étendards (sanājiq), une bannière du calife abbasside, des tambours, ces cadeaux de Qalāwūn sont exposés et exploités mais Ibn Abī ʿUmāra massacre tous les membres de la dynastie à Tunis et à Bougie et, surtout, il se retourne contre ses anciens alliés. Au bout de trois ans, il est pris et assassiné. Cette ingérence mamelouke supposée et surtout symbolique a donc tourné court36. 1.4

Le troisième et dernier épisode: l’aide puis l’ asile à un sultan hafside déchu Par la suite, des échanges d’ambassades et de cadeaux sont mentionnés par les chroniqueurs; des lettres aussi mais sans que nous en ayons retrouvé la trace écrite. Il semblerait que cet épisode du pseudo-Faḍl n’ait pas beaucoup compromis les relations entre les deux pays. Abū Yaḥyā Zakariyyāʾ b. Aḥmad al-Liḥyānī, shaykh des Almohades et hafside, est envoyé à Djerba pour chasser les Aragonais qui s’ étaient emparés de l’ île37. Il tente en vain de s’emparer du fort, burj al-Qashtīl (el Castello), puis il se lance dans une sorte d’inspection du sud du pays, accompagné du secrétairelettré al-Tijānī, auteur d’un récit qui relate les péripéties de ce voyage et décrit les régions visitées38. Arrivé à Tripoli, Ibn al-Liḥyānī y réside près d’ un an et demi (ḥawl wa-niṣf ) puis il rejoint une caravane (wafd al-Turk)39, qui ramenait 33 34 35 36 37 38 39

Thiry, Le Sahara libyen 218 : « une tribu très puissante constitue encore aujourd’hui l’élément arabe le plus important en Libye ». Ibn Khaldūn, Kitāb al-ʿIbar vi, 167–72, 690 ; trad. Cheddadi, ii, 123–5, 520–1. Une puissante tribu arabe de la confédération des Sulaym basée entre Gabès et Barqa. Aucune source locale n’ en parle. Daoulatli, Les Relations. Roger de Lauria s’ était emparé de l’ île en 1289 et il y avait fait construire un fort, el Castello, terme arabisé en burj al-Qashtīl. Al-Tijānī, al-Riḥla. Al-Zarkashī, Tārīkh al-dawlatayn 118.

536

chapoutot-remadi

les messagers de Muḥammad b. Qalāwūn, de retour d’ un séjour mouvementé chez les Mérinides, et il décide d’en profiter pour accomplir le pèlerinage. De retour de La Mecque, il s’arrête à la cour du Caire. Muḥammad b. Qalāwūn (709–40/1309–41) venait de triompher de ses ennemis, les émirs Baybars et Sallār, et de réintégrer son trône pour un troisième et dernier long règne. De nouveau, la cour du Caire est remplie de visiteurs, de messagers venus féliciter le sultan et apporter, comme d’habitude, lettres et cadeaux. Encore une fois les Yéménites et les Ifriqiyyens se rencontrent dans la salle d’audience du palais de la citadelle. Ibn al-Liḥyānī sollicite quant à lui l’ aide du sultan pour s’emparer du pouvoir à Tunis. La crise de succession en effet s’ éternisait. En seize ans, entre la mort d’Abū Ḥafṣ ʿUmar (683–94/1284–95) et l’avènement d’Ibn al-Liḥyānī, trois souverains se sont succédé. La population de Tunis était excédée par les crises successives et l’ insécurité qui en résultaient40; la situation était donc propice à un enième coup d’ état. Muḥammad b. Qalāwūn lui donne un petit détachement, des bannières et il repart, gagne Tunis et le trône41. Il régnera pendant six ans, de 711/1311 à 718/1317. Robert Brunschvig a croqué en quelques mots le personnage: « un prince d’ âge mûr, sexagénaire, lettré, tolérant, imprudent, timoré, avare, scrupuleux, mauvais politique42». Durant son règne, il fut très complaisant avec les Aragonais et leur accorda beaucoup d’avantages. Cette amitié allait d’ailleurs lui servir car, quand son pouvoir fut compromis par de nouveaux troubles, il fit appel au roi d’ Aragon et de Sicile qui lui envoya de Djerba six galères dans lesquelles il entassa sa famille et ses biens et partit pour un exil définitif à Alexandrie. Il fut bien accueilli par le sultan qui lui accorda résidence et pension. Ces trois épisodes marquent l’essentiel de cette première phase où l’ Ifrīqiya aurait pu être le pendant occidental du Yémen. Alors que le Yémen est le pays de passage des pèlerins et des marchands de l’Inde qui apportent les produits d’Extrême Orient, l’Ifrīqiya est un important point de transit pour l’ ensemble des musulmans d’Occident. Cependant, à aucun moment, les cadeaux n’ont été considérés comme un tribut; les messagers, les pèlerins n’ont pas eu à subir des avanies en territoire égyptien.

40 41 42

Les prédations des bédouins avaient particulièrement augmenté. Ibid. 118–9. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk ii, 106. Il lui prête allégeance à Tripoli, rattachant de la sorte la Tripolitaine au sultanat mamelouk. Brunschvig, La Berbérie orientale i, 129 ; sur son règne, ibid. i, 128–43.

entre ifrīqiya hafside et égypte mamelouke

2

537

À l’époque des Mamelouks circassiens: des relations cordiales

2.1 Une période de ralentissement Au cours de la deuxième phase, nous constatons d’ une part une interruption des relations pour des raisons de sécurité dues à une accumulation de crises de succession, de guerres et, comme toujours, des méfaits des nomades Sulaym en particulier concernant l’Ifrīqiya et Hilāl pour le reste du Maghreb43. Des fatwas de plusieurs oulémas maghrébins en témoignent44 : « La pratique du pèlerinage est abolie dans ce pays et à plus forte raison aujourd’hui que la route est dangereuse depuis le pays de Riyāḥ jusqu’aux confins de l’ Ifrīqiya45 ». À plusieurs reprises, Ibn Khaldūn fait état des guerres qui opposent les trois États du Maghreb; il parle des désordres, des routes coupées, de l’ insécurité. Il raconte une de ses mésaventures survenue en 774/1372–3, au cours de laquelle il fut dépouillé de tous ses biens46. Lorsque Abū Yaʿqūb Yūsuf al-Marīnī (685–706/1286–1307) décida d’ envoyer un cadeau au sultan mamelouk en 704/1304, il dut faire escorter la caravane par un détachement de cinq cents cavaliers47. L’ambassade que Muḥammad b. Qalāwūn envoya à son tour peu après fut attaquée et pillée par des nomades sur le chemin du retour48. Ibn Khaldūn fait état d’ une rupture des relations à la suite de ces prédations. Cependant, Abū l-Ḥasan al-Marīnī rétablit ses relations avec l’Égypte après la prise de Tlemcen en 737/133849 et envoya des cadeaux somptueux en même temps que des lettres à Muḥammad b. Qalāwūn et ensuite à son fils al-Ṣāliḥ Ismāʿīl. Durant ce temps, l’ Ifrīqiya était empêtrée dans des guerres avec ses voisins et dans des crises de succession peu favorables à l’entretien de relations diplomatiques avec l’Orient. En Égypte, c’est surtout durant les règnes des enfants de Muḥammad b. Qalāwūn que les relations durent stagner relativement. Les crises de succes-

43 44 45 46 47 48

49

Ibn Khaldūn, Kitāb al-ʿIbar vi, 151 ; trad. Cheddadi ii, 111–3; Fagnan, Extraits inédits 265 sq. Al-Wansharīsī, al-Miʿyār i, 441 ; cf. Lagardère, Histoire et société 38 (n° 126). Lagardère, Histoire et société 38. Ibn Khaldūn, al-Muqaddima, trad. Cheddadi i, 144. Ibn Khaldūn, Kitāb al-ʿIbar, trad. Cheddadi ii, 1122. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk ii, 9 : déjà en 704/1304, l’ ambassade envoyée par Abū Yaʿqūb Yūsuf alMarīnī est la première, après une longue interruption; Ibn Khaldūn, Kitāb al-ʿIbar, trad. Cheddadi ii, 1121 : « une telle occasion ne s’ était guère présentée depuis bien longtemps, à cause de l’ insécurité des routes et du peu de respect qu’inspiraient les États […] Le sultan prit le plus grand soin à l’ organisation de la caravane, qu’il fit escorter par un détachement de cinq cents valeureux guerriers Zanāta ». Ibn Khaldūn, Kitāb al-ʿIbar, trad. Cheddadi ii, 1189.

538

chapoutot-remadi

sions, les luttes de factions, les querelles autour des jeunes princes, devaient largement dissuader les sultans et leur entourage de toute entreprise diplomatique. 2.2

Le nouveau souffle des relations entre l’ Ifrīqiya et l’ Égypte avec Barqūq Elles reprennent à partir de l’avènement de la dynastie circassienne avec Barqūq. Ibn Khaldūn, dans son autobiographie, s’attribue les mérites de ce rapprochement entre les deux États. Barqūq s’entremet auprès d’ Abū l-ʿAbbās Aḥmad, pour qu’il permette à la famille d’Ibn Khaldūn de le rejoindre au Caire; cette missive est effectivement chaleureuse et amicale50. Sur les douze lettres recensées, dont certaines sont déjà mentionnées par Frédéric Bauden51, une seule lettre date de la période turque, tandis que les onze autres se situent dans une tranche chronologique qui va de 788/1184 à 872/1468, si on inclut dans cette fourchette les lettres non datées. Pour les Hafsides, c’est une période d’assez grande stabilité; elle correspond à trois grands règnes, respectivement ceux de Abū l-ʿAbbās Aḥmad II (772–96/1370–94), Abū Fāris ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz (796–837/1394–1434) et Abū ʿAmr ʿUthmān (839–93/1435– 88). Par ailleurs, les sultans circassiens sont beaucoup plus préoccupés par leurs voisins orientaux comme les principautés turkmènes d’ Anatolie et le redoutable Tamerlan, sans oublier la montée en puissance des Ottomans. À l’ intérieur de l’empire, ils ne manquaient pas non plus de populations remuantes comme les tribus turkmènes et arabes de Syrie à l’ affût de la moindre révolte pour s’y associer sinon pour la susciter; en Égypte, les Arabes bédouins de Haute-Égypte (Ṣaʿīd) et les Hawwāra profitent eux aussi des crises. L’offensive des Catalans et des Italiens en Méditerranée contribue elle à augmenter les périls auxquels ils doivent faire face. En résumé entre les Hafsides et les Mamelouks, c’ est une entente cordiale sans véritable enjeu avec cependant une visibilité plus grande. Le contenu des lettres est relativement simple, banal même. Entre protestations d’ amitiés, félicitations à chaque avènement et à chaque victoire, message de condoléances le cas échéant, lettres de victoire (mukātabāt futūḥ) où chacun présente de luimême l’image la plus avantageuse possible. Une seule lettre sort du lot dans la mesure où elle n’est pas adressée par le sultan d’ Égypte, al-Ashraf Īnāl, en l’ occurrence mais par al-Biqāʿī, à la demande de son ami le messager égyptien,

50 51

Ibid. vii, 1061–5 ; trad. Cheddadi ii, 163–6. Bauden, Les Relations.

entre ifrīqiya hafside et égypte mamelouke

539

al-Sharīf ʿAlī al-Quṣayrī (m. 882/1477)52 pour lui signaler deux aventuriers et faussaires53. C’est ainsi qu’Abū l-ʿAbbās Aḥmad félicite Barqūq d’ être revenu sur son trône et lui annonce le pillage de l’île de Gozo54. Barqūq à son tour le félicite du succès de son expédition et il le remercie pour l’ envoi des chevaux55. Par la suite, Abū Fāris ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz entretient de très bons rapports avec l’ Égypte. Des messagers porteurs de cadeaux sont signalés en 799/1397 et en 800/1398 avec d’autres maghrébins. Ils félicitent Faraj de son avènement. Faraj à son tour aurait répondu56. Les pèlerins ayant été molestés à La Mecque, Abū Fāris sollicite la protection de la caravane57. Al-Muʾayyad Shaykh (r. 815–24/1412– 21) répond à Abū Fāris et lui raconte les péripéties de son accession au trône au mois de Shaʿbān 815/Février-Mars 141358. Peu après, en 827/1424, Abū Fāris annonce à Barsbāy la prise de Tlemcen et ce dernier lui répond. Les cadeaux sont assez récurrents dans la mesure où la spécialité du Maghreb est de produire des chevaux excellents. Le cheval barbe est réputé depuis l’ Antiquité. Il apparaît déjà dans les gravures rupestres et a gardé à travers les âges cette réputation. Il est à l’origine du genêt d’ Espagne (genêt, i.e. Zanāta). Très recherché, il est présent dans tous les échanges entre le Maghreb et l’ Égypte mamelouke. On dirait même qu’au cours de cette deuxième phase, la demande en chevaux est telle qu’à deux reprises au moins le sultan envoie en Ifrīqiya et, en fait simultanément aux trois souverains du Maghreb, un amīr ākhūr acheter des chevaux. C’est le cas de Quṭlūbughā l-Turkumānī l-Khalīlī (m. 821/1418)59 qui est envoyé par Barqūq en 799/1397 et de Sayf al-Dīn Junayd amīr ākhūr qui est envoyé en 836/1432–3 par Barsbāy dans le même but60.

52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59

60

Al-Sakhāwī, al-Ḍawʾ al-lāmiʿ vi, 36 (n° 104). D’ après ce dernier, il avait déjà été envoyé en Ifrīqiya comme messager par al-Ashraf Īnāl en 859/1454. Al-Biqāʿī, Iẓhār al-ʿaṣr ii, 247–50. Al-Qalqashandī, Subḥ al-aʿshā viii, 79–84 ; Ibn al-Furāt, Tārīkh al-duwal ix, 222–8. Brunschvig, La Berbérie orientale 198, 204. Ibn Abī Dīnār, al-Muʾnis 176. L’auteur fait une erreur concernant Faraj qu’il appelle al-Nāṣir b. Qalāwūn. Ibn Qunfudh, al-Fārisiyya 195. Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 59–63 ; Ibn Abī Dīnār fait allusion à la réponse d’Abū Fāris qu’il aurait lue dans le Qahwat al-inshāʾ 176. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iii, 899 ; Ibn Qāḍī Shuhba, Tārīkh iv, 404; Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr iii, 185 ; al-Sakhāwī, al-Ḍawʾ al-lāmiʿ vi, 223 (n°745); Ibn Qunfudh, al-Fārisiyya 195. Ce dernier ne donne pas de nom mais il mentionne l’ arrivée de ce messager de Barqūq. Colin, Contributions 199; Ibn al-Ṣayrafī, Nuzhat al-nufūs iii, 289. Il est aussi mentionné dans une lettre de Barsbāy au sultan hafside Muḥammad I al-Mustanṣir (voir MS Ar. 4440 de la BnF : al-Muntaṣir sic). Ibn al-Ṣayrafī, Nuzhat al-nufūs iii, 289. Nous ne disposons d’ aucune autre occurrence concernant ce deuxième amīr ākhūr envoyé au Maghreb.

540

chapoutot-remadi

Cependant la crise et les désordres causés par les ajlāb sont tels au Caire sous le règne d’al-Ashraf Īnāl (r. 857–65/1453–61) que la caravane des pèlerins, arrivée en 863/1458 avec trois épouses du sultan défunt Abū Fāris ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz, munies de cadeaux et de la somme de 4.000 dinars, fut attaquée et pillée. Le sultan ne fit rien pour ses hôtes ni ne réagit aux plaintes qui lui furent adressée61. Les souverains du Maghreb ont excellé dans une autre voie, celle des cadeaux faits en faveur des lieux saints comme les Corans mérinides luxueusement calligraphiés62, les waqf s et les envois réguliers de provisions, au moment du pèlerinage par Abū Fāris ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz63. La remise des missives et des cadeaux s’accompagne de part et d’ autre d’un cérémonial de réception très particulier. Si nous avons force détails sur celle des ambassadeurs au Caire dans les sources mameloukes64, nous sommes renseignés relativement peu sur cette cérémonie à Tunis. Ibn Khaldūn y fait une brève allusion à propos de la réception de l’ envoyé de Barqūq à Tunis en 793/139065. Un dernier point mérite d’être souligné: le sultanat hafside reste à peu près la seule puissance maghrébine, après la disparition de Mérinides, des Zayyanides de Tlemcen et des Nasrides de Grenade, et ce même si après la mort d’Abū ʿAmr ʿUthmān la dynastie décline: elle persistera jusqu’ en 1574; ce faisant elle survit même à celle des Mamelouks. Malgré ce sentiment de solidarité religieux, les Hafsides et les Mamelouks mènent, chacun de son côté, un jihād séparé mais constant qui justifie le chacun pour soi et les milliers d’invocations, de duʿāʾ qu’ on s’ envoie réciproquement pour résister à l’offensive chrétienne qui menace les côtes maghrébines comme les côtes syro-égyptiennes. 2.3 Les Chérifs de La Mecque jouent leur propre partition Le Hejaz est le carrefour des musulmans où les chérifs tentent de jouer leur partition. Le pèlerinage est, comme on le sait, une des cinq obligations de l’ Islam et le prétexte le plus important au voyage en Égypte pour l’ ensemble des Maghrébins. Le sort des villes saintes et du Hejaz était étroitement lié au flux annuel

61 62 63

64 65

Al-Biqāʿī, Iẓhār al-ʿaṣr iii, 83 ; al-Ẓāhirī, Nayl al-amal vi, 58. Canard, Les Relations 94 ; Shatzmiller, “Waqf K̲ h̲ayrī” 211–2. ʿAbd Allāh al-Tarjumān, Tuḥfat al-arīb 81 ; Ibn Shammāʿ, al-Adilla al-bayyina 113; al-Maqrīzī, Durar al-ʿuqūd al-farīda ii, 278–92 (n° 609) ; al-Sakhāwī, al-Ḍawʾ al-lāmiʿ iv, 214 (n°547). Bauden, Les Relations ; Brooadbridge, Kingship and Ideology. « Il les reçut avec une très grande satisfaction et les exposa au public pour en tirer gloire». Ibn Khaldūn, Kitāb al-ʿIbar, trad. Cheddadi ii, 994.

entre ifrīqiya hafside et égypte mamelouke

541

des pèlerins, aux taxes levées sur eux et aux subsides en grains et autres denrées apportés à cette occasion. Le maḥmal et la caravane annuelle des pèlerins les faisaient vivre. Le califat abbasside, protecteur des lieux saints, vivait ses derniers instants avant de disparaître sous les coups des Mongols en 656/1258. Les princes ayyoubides de Syrie étaient occupés à la fois par des luttes fratricides et par les Francs installés en Syrie-Palestine. L’Égypte, qui connaissait une crise de succession et une certaine instabilité jusqu’au règne de Baybars, avait réussi à écarter successivement deux graves dangers: celui de l’invasion du Delta par les croisés de Louis IX et celui de l’invasion de la Syrie par les Mongols de Hülegü. L’ Orient était en quelque sorte momentanément dans l’incapacité d’ envoyer des caravanes de pèlerins au Hejaz. C’est probablement la raison pour laquelle Abū Numayy s’ était tourné vers l’ Ifrīqiya et avait envoyé une bayʿa au sultan hafside, espérant ainsi compenser l’ absence de pèlerins des pays en guerre par ceux qui pourraient éventuellement venir de l’Occident. Depuis les Fatimides, l’Égypte avait toujours eu des vues sur l’ Arabie. Les mobiles économiques ne manquent pas pour expliquer cet intérêt. Outre qu’ ils traduisaient leur volonté de supplanter le golfe persique et de détourner le commerce d’Extrême-Orient vers l’axe Aden, ʿAydhāb, Assouan et Alexandrie, l’ apport de ce commerce était et restera un atout précieux jusqu’ au XVIe siècle. Les mobiles religieux s’y ajoutent et consolident la volonté des successeurs, Ayyoubides puis Mamelouks, d’exercer au moins une sorte de protectorat sur les villes saintes et d’assurer la circulation maritime en Mer Rouge. « Les lieux saints particulièrement au moment du grand pèlerinage annuel sont devenus une arène où les souverains de l’Islam s’affrontent à distance : ils s’ y opposent dans des “guerres de prestige” qui sont le reflet des rapports de force effectifs en même temps qu’elles apportent une sanction religieuse à cette hiérarchie de fait66». Un autre point important, des rivalités intenses et constantes éclataient entre les membres de la famille des chérifs, fussent-ils frères, au sujet de la charge de l’émirat de La Mecque. Cette famille est la troisième branche hasanide qui s’est emparée du pouvoir à La Mecque en 597/1201 et elle est connue comme étant celle des Banū Qatāda b. Idrīs. C’est celle qui aura la plus grande longévité politique puisqu’elle perdure jusqu’en 1925. Curieusement, l’ appartenance au zaydisme ne semble pas poser de problèmes aux pouvoirs sunnites avec lesquels ils sont en contact, sauf peut-être à partir du règne de Muḥammad b. Qalāwūn. 66

Veinstein, Histoire turque 903.

542

chapoutot-remadi

À chaque avènement, deux émirs se partagent l’ émirat et ils se disputent férocement le pouvoir au point qu’on pourrait parler de pouvoirs jumeaux impossibles. Ces chérifs zaydites étaient tolérés par des pouvoirs sunnites, aussi bien hafsides que mamelouks67. Même si le protectorat exercé sur le Hejaz par les Mamelouks à partir du règne de Baybars est effectif, il n’est pas fondé sur une occupation permanente mais sur la venue annuelle d’ un contingent qui accompagne la caravane de pèlerins de La Mecque, dirigé par un amīr al-ḥajj. À l’époque circassienne, le nombre de pèlerins est parfois tel que deux ou trois convois sont organisés et un amīr al-rakb est alors désigné pour chacun d’ eux ; ce dernier veille à la sécurité de la caravane en chemin et sur place, il se charge de remettre de l’ordre en actualisant la khuṭba au nom du sultan mamelouk. Or, trois autres États se trouveront impliqués dans les affaires de l’ émirat de La Mecque: les Rasoulides, les Hafsides, les Ilkhanides, en plus des Mamelouks. Abū Numayy (652–702/1254–130168) est particulièrement important pour plusieurs raisons. Il a gouverné La Mecque pendant un demi-siècle, il a eu de nombreux fils et sa descendance a conservé le pouvoir jusqu’ à la fin de l’ époque mamelouke et même au-delà. Deux options s’ offrent alors à lui dès le début de son règne et il les fera jouer l’une et l’ autre. La première est matérialisée par l’initiative du grand mystique espagnol Ibn Sabʿīn de Murcie qui suggère au chérif de prêter allégeance à Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad I, deuxième sultan de Tunis69. Ce dernier, succédant à son père, avait pris dès son avènement le titre d’al-Mustanṣir bi-llāh. Ibn Sabʿīn70 rédige lui-même la lettre d’allégeance (risālat al-bayʿa) et il charge un de ses compatriotes de l’apporter à Tunis. Cette allégeance à un souverain éloigné offrait beaucoup d’avantages aux deux partenaires dans la mesure où al-Mustanṣir, trop éloigné, ne pouvait s’ingérer dans les affaires des chérifs et, dans le même temps, Abū Numayy s’assurait de la venue de la caravane des Maghrébins. AlMustanṣir, pour sa part, en tire grande gloire non seulement dans son royaume mais également auprès des autres États du Maghreb. La seconde option d’Abū Numayy, beaucoup plus aisée à réaliser, réside dans le rapprochement avec les sultans du Yémen; ce choix répond par ailleurs aux ambitions des Rasoulides eux-mêmes qui essayent d’ imposer leur présence dès

67 68

69 70

Mortel, Zaydi Shiism. Al-Fāsī, al-ʿIqd al-thamīn i, 456–70 (n° 144). Il s’ appelle Muḥammad b. Ḥasan b. ʿAlī b. Qatāda b. Idrīs b. Muṭāʿin al-Ḥasanī al-Sharīf Abū Numayy Najm al-Dīn. Émir de La Mecque pendant 50 ans. Ibn Khaldūn, Kitāb al-ʿIbar, trad. Cheddadi ii, 487. Al-Fāsī, al-ʿIqd al-thamīn v, 326–35 (n° 1700); al-Kutubī, Fawāt al-wafayāt i, 247; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Nujūm al-zāhira vii, 232.

entre ifrīqiya hafside et égypte mamelouke

543

le règne d’al-Manṣūr ʿUmar (626–47/1229–49). Ce dernier envoie même une armée en 652/1254 à La Mecque mais Abū Numayy et son oncle et associé Idrīs la repoussent avec l’aide des chérifs de Médine. Par contre en 667/1269, Abū Numayy accuse son oncle et rival Idrīs b. Qatāda de pencher en faveur du sultan du Yémen et de médire du sultan d’ Égypte. Baybars lui répond en posant des conditions. Il devra assurer la sécurité aux musulmans résidents faisant retraite à La Mecque et ne pas lever de taxe sur eux; il ne devra pas empêcher les visiteurs, de jour comme de nuit, ni attaquer les marchands et les pèlerins. Enfin et surtout, la khuṭba devra être prononcée en son nom et en celui d’Abū Numayy, de même que la monnaie devra être frappée à leurs deux noms. Il recevrait en échange la somme de 20 000 dirhams. Il accepte et reçoit alors un diplôme de nomination (taqlīd)71. Son oncle Idrīs accepte également ces conditions. Baybars agit de même avec tous les autres chérifs de la péninsule en faisant établir à chacun un diplôme d’ investiture. Pourtant, les liens avec les sultans mamelouks n’ ont pas toujours été sereins. Peu après, en 668/1269, Abū Numayy et Idrīs chassent le représentant du sultan. Ils se comportent mal en 675/1276 et Ibn Khaldūn lui-même fait état de ces mauvaises relations. En 681/1282, Abū Numayy prête le même serment d’allégeance en faveur de Qalāwūn et de son fils72. Pourtant en 691/1292, il se parjure et se tourne une nouvelle fois vers le sultan du Yémen al-Muẓaffar Yūsuf et il rompt la khuṭba dite en faveur d’al-Ashraf Khalīl dès la nouvelle de son assassinat. Ses liens avec le Yémen se consolident; il reçoit alors de la part d’ al-Muẓaffar Yūsuf la somme de 80 000 dirhams, 400 mudd de céréales, des kiswas, des parfums, du musc, du sandal, de l’ambre, des vêtements de couleurs, des robes d’honneur (khilaʿ) de grande valeur73. Quand on lit tous les passages des Sulūk sur les tergiversations d’Abū Numayy et le jeu de balancier de sa fidélité tantôt au sultan mamelouk tantôt au souverain rasoulide, on se rend compte qu’ elles sont étroitement liées au problème de survie des habitants de La Mecque. La sécheresse, la pénurie de grains, de marchandises, la cherté conséquente à la rareté sont cruciales. Al-Muʾayyad Dāwūd (696–721/1296–1321) envoie le maḥmal et son étendard est planté sur le mont Arafat. Son muezzin appelle à la prière sous la coupole de Zemzem et vante les mérites du sultan rasoulide ; Abū Numayy lui prête serment et le texte de la bayʿa est même inscrit sur sa tunique (qamīṣ), selon la coutume. 71 72 73

Al-Fāsī, al-ʿIqd al-thamīn i, 456 ; al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk i, 579. Ibn al-Furāt, Tārīkh al-duwal vii, 247–8 (le texte du serment); al-Fāsī, al-ʿIqd al-thamīn i, 463 ; al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk i, 706. Cf. à titre d’ exemple les passages dans al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk i, 724, 726, 782, 786, 804.

544

chapoutot-remadi

Après la mort d’Abū Numayy, en 701/1300, quelques-uns de ses nombreux fils qui lui succèdent continuent à lutter les uns contre les autres et même à s’ entretuer au besoin. Tous sont très remuants et se disputent le pouvoir d’ une manière quasi permanente. Ils profitent des périodes de pèlerinage pour attaquer les voyageurs, renier leur allégeance et entretenir une zizanie perpétuelle. Certains d’entre eux, comme Ḥumayḍa et Rumaytha74, Labīda, Thaqaba, Abū l-Ghayth et ʿUṭayfa, forment la deuxième génération d’ émirs de La Mecque. Ils s’ entendent et se brouillent alternativement avec les Mamelouks et cherchent constamment d’autres appuis, d’autres patronages dans trois directions différentes. Ḥumayḍa et son frère Rumaytha succèdent à leur père mais lors du pèlerinage de Baybars al-Jāshnakīr en 701/1301, ils sont écartés au profit de leurs frères ʿUṭayfa et Abū l-Ghayth tandis que les deux premiers sont emmenés au Caire pour être emprisonnés. Pour la première fois, les Mamelouks tentent d’ extirper le zaydisme de La Mecque; il est en effet demandé à ʿUṭayfa et Abū l-Ghayth de supprimer la formule chiite de l’appel à la prière et d’ exclure l’ imam zaydite de la grande mosquée, mais en vain. Quelques années plus tard, en 704/1304, au cours de son deuxième pèlerinage, Baybars II ramène les deux frères aînés et reprend ʿUṭayfa et Abū l-Ghayth pour un exil en Égypte. Peu après, ils sont renvoyés à La Mecque mais sans fonctions et Abū l-Ghayth est assassiné par son frère en 714/1314. Durant cette période, les convois de pèlerins sont attaqués et pillés et les luttes fratricides sont incessantes. Ḥumayḍa se tourne d’abord vers les Rasoulides et la khuṭba est dès lors prononcée au nom d’al-Muʾayyad Dāwūd. Mais quand à l’ occasion du pèlerinage le contingent mamelouk arrive à La Mecque, il ne trouve pas l’ aide rasoulide escomptée. Il s’enfuit alors en Irak chez les Ilkhanides, et se réfugie à la cour d’Öljeitü. Ce dernier se nomme Muḥammad Khudābanda depuis qu’ il s’ est converti au chiisme duodécimain en 710/1310, proche du zaydisme des chérifs75. L’occasion est donc fort belle pour essayer de prendre l’ avantage sur ses rivaux Mamelouks. Le khan fournit une petite armée à Ḥumayḍa de 4000 cavaliers mongols et d’arabes bédouins d’Irak pour s’emparer du Hejaz76. La nouvelle de la mort d’Öljeitü bouleverse les projets du chérif d’autant que sa petite armée se

74 75 76

Al-Ṣafadī, Aʿyān al-ʿaṣr ii, 303–4 (n° 620); ii, 373 (n°664); Ibn Ḥajar, al-Durar al-kāmina ii, 78 (n°1637) ; ii, 111. Un passage savoureux de la Riḥla d’ Ibn Baṭṭūta nous éclaire sur les changement de noms de ce khan et leurs significations. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk ii, 147–8.

entre ifrīqiya hafside et égypte mamelouke

545

débande aussitôt77. La grande tribu des Āl Faḍl de Rabīʿa de Syrie, dont les terrains de parcours se situent entre Hama et l’Euphrate, était parfois en délicatesse avec le pouvoir mamelouk et, à ces occasions, se réfugiait elle-même de l’autre côté du fleuve. Muḥammad b. ʿĪsā b. Muhannā attaque Ḥumayḍa et sa troupe, s’empare de tous ses biens et Ḥumayḍa réussit à échapper et rentre à La Mecque. Il tente de persister dans sa dissidence en faisant prononcer la khuṭba au nom de l’ilkhan Abū Saʿīd en 718/1318. Ce dernier envoie la kiswa de la Kaʿba avec la caravane des pèlerins de l’Irak mais Muḥammad b. Qalāwūn décide de partir à La Mecque en un fastueux équipage pour contrer, par sa présence, la tentative de son rival. La kiswa reste, malgré toutes les tentatives des royaumes voisins, un monopole mamelouk. Une sorte de protocole s’ instaure suivant lequel le maḥmal égyptien entre en premier, puis le syrien, l’ ilkhanide et le yéménite en dernier78. Les tentatives des Jalayirides puis de Tamerlan et de son fils Shāh Rukh témoignent de l’importance de l’enjeu d’être reconnus comme les souverains musulmans les plus grands, mais ce qui nous intéresse ici c’ est la tentative des chérifs de La Mecque d’obtenir d’autres patronages que celui des Mamelouks. Ḥasan b. ʿAjlān b. Rumaytha a peut-être été le dernier en 817/1414 à envoyer un de ses parents à Bagdad mais, d’après al-Sakhāwī, il serait revenu bredouille79. Ḥumayḍa est ensuite assassiné en 720/1320, probablement à l’ instigation de Muḥammad b. Qalāwūn tandis que Rumaytha est renvoyé comme co-émir avec ʿUṭayfa à La Mecque avec une petite troupe de soldats et de bédouins. Mais ce dernier ne renonce pas à ses convictions zaydites. Rumaytha, malgré une vie et une carrière mouvementées, reste émir jusqu’ à sa mort en 746/1346, ce qui rappelle quelque peu la durée de règne de son père Abū Numayy. Labīda b. Abī Numayy est un autre membre de la fratrie. Il décide de partir au Maghreb chez les Mérinides en 704/1304. D’ après Ibn Khaldūn, « il avait fui le sultan des Turcs qui avait arrêté ses deux frères, Ḥumayḍa et Rumaytha, peu après la mort de leur père80». Il propose de faire la khuṭba au nom du sultan Abū Yaʿqūb Yūsuf (685–706/1286–1307), tout comme Abū Numayy l’ avait 77 78 79

80

Melville, The Year of the Elephant 199–201 ; Boadbridge, Diplomatic Conventions 97–8. Boadbridge, Diplomatic Conventions 102 sqq. Darrag, L’ Égypte 162, a donné une référence à al-Sakhāwī qui est erronée. En fait Ḥasan b. ʿAjlān a envoyé un parent, Hibat Allāh b. Aḥmad b. ʿUmayr al-Ḥasanī (m. 819/1416). Voir al-Sakhāwī, al-Ḍawʾ al-lāmiʿ x, 208 (n° 889). Cette biographie est en fait recopiée d’al-Fāsī, al-ʿIqd al-thamīn vii, 366, ce dernier datant l’ événement de 807/1404. Al-Maqrīzī confirmerait plutôt cette date par une allusion à la présence d’un parent ḥasanide dans la caravane d’ Irak envoyée à l’ origine par Tīmūr avec l’ ordre de mesurer la Kaʿba pour l’envoi de la kiswa. Cf. al- Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iii, 1166 ; Ibn Fahd, Itḥāf al-warā iii, 443–4. Ibn Khaldūn, Kitāb al-ʿIbar v, 903–6 ; vii, 463–7, 471 ; trad. Cheddadi, ii, 1122.

546

chapoutot-remadi

fait avec le sultan hafside Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad I al-Mustanṣir . Le sultan lui fait bon accueil et il l’envoie visiter son royaume. Après un séjour plus ou moins long à la cour de Fès, il repart au Caire avec les messagers que Muḥammad b. Qalāwūn avait envoyés au sultan mérinide avec des cadeaux81. Le guide de la caravane maghrébine, de retour de pèlerinage, apporta avec lui le serment d’allégeance des chérifs de la ville sainte au sultan tant ils étaient mécontents de l’arrestation de leurs frères par le souverain d’ Égypte. C’ était ainsi qu’ ils réagissaient quand ils étaient contrariés par le sultan régnant. Le guide Abū Zayd al-Ghafāyirī «apporta de leur part un vêtement fait avec un morceau du voile de la Kaʿba. Le souverain en fut enchanté et il le porta le vendredi et les jours de fête, afin de bénéficier de la bénédiction qui s’ y attache82 ». Remarquons cependant que la bayʿa de Labīda83 et de ses frères ne semble pas avoir compromis les bonnes relations de Muḥammad b. Qalāwūn avec le sultan mérinide qui renvoya aussitôt une ambassade à la cour de Fès avec de somptueux cadeaux. Rumaytha, comme son père, eut beaucoup d’ enfants, et c’ est désormais sa descendance qui accapare le pouvoir à La Mecque. C’ est d’ abord le tour de ʿAjlān et Thaqaba, mais leur pouvoir est contesté par les autres membres de la fratrie et par les cousins et la même instabilité sévit à La Mecque comme par le passé. Thaqaba84 se tourne vers le sultan du Yémen et lui propose de s’ emparer de La Mecque avec son aide. Al-Mujāhid ʿAlī (721–64/1322–63) s’ engage et dirige lui-même l’expédition. Cependant la caravane égyptienne arrive et il est pris, fait prisonnier et traité avec honneur par les émirs mamelouks. Il est envoyé au Caire puis renvoyé chez lui par mer en 752/135185. ʿInān b. Mughāmis b. Rumaytha (m. 805/1402–3)86, puis son fils ʿAlī (m. 833/1429)87, réitéreront pour leur part l’aventure maghrébine. ʿAlī se rendit à Tunis auprès d’Abū Fāris ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz, après 824/1421; ce dernier lui fit bon accueil et lui offrit la somme de 1000 dinars. Au retour, il resta au Caire et il se rendit à la cour mameluke et c’est là qu’il mourut de la peste. Cependant,

81 82 83

84 85 86 87

Canard, Les Relations. Nous avons un peu adapté la traduction de Cheddadi ii, 122. Ibn Fahd, Ghāyat al-marām ii, 37, 42 : il est appelé Lubayda et non Labīda. Cette forme est vraisemblable dans la mesure où plusieurs de ses frères ont des noms qui obéissent à la même forme, ʿUṭayfa, Ḥumayḍa, … Al-Fāsī, al-ʿIqd al-thamīn iii, 395 (n° 868) ; al-Sakhāwī, al-Ḍawʾ al-lāmiʿ vi, 147 (n° 464). Al-Maqrīzī, Durar al-ʿuqūd ii, 484–98, surtout 493 sqq.; al-Sakhāwī, al-Ḍawʾ al-lāmiʿ v, 272 (n° 914). Al-Maqrīzī, Durar al-ʿuqūd ii, 563 (n° 884); al-Fāsī, al-ʿIqd al-thamīn vi, 430; al-Sakhāwī, al-Ḍawʾ al-lāmiʿ vi, 147. Al-Maqrīzī, Durar al-ʿuqūd ii, 472 (n° 794); al-Sakhāwī, al-Ḍawʾ al-lāmiʿ v, 272; al-Fāsī, alʿIqd al-thamīn vi, 432 ; Darrag, L’ Égypte 355.

entre ifrīqiya hafside et égypte mamelouke

547

la situation n’était plus la-même et les sultans égyptiens ne se sentaient plus menacés par ces chérifs turbulents qui essayaient désespérément d’ obtenir le plus de prébendes possibles. D’ailleurs un autre chérif, Muqbil b. Nakhbār de Yanbuʿ, s’était rendu lui aussi à Tunis auprès d’Abū Fāris en 825/142288. Un réel changement se produit avec Ḥasan b. ʿAjlān b. Rumaytha (798– 829/1394–5–1426) et ses deux fils Barakāt et Aḥmad89. Ce dernier est nommé nāʾib al-salṭana du Hejaz tandis que ses fils sont seulement émirs. Les révoltes et les troubles ne cessèrent pas pour autant. En 829/1429, pour la première fois, comme le remarque al-Maqrīzī, un émir de La Mecque est obligé de payer l’ impôt alors qu’auparavant c’était le sultan qui l’ approvisionnait90. Cependant, Ḥasan b. ʿAjlān se rebella lui aussi et se réfugia au Yémen. Finalement l’ émir Taghrī Birdī l-Maḥmūdī réussit à ramener Ḥasan au Caire en 828/1425. Il devait repartir à La Mecque mais il mourut au Caire91. Pour la première fois, un émir mamelouk, Qurqumās al-Dawādār, fut associé à ʿAlī b. ʿInān dans l’ émirat de La Mecque92 sous le règne de Barsbāy, puis il se rendit auprès d’ Abū Faris ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz qui lui fit bon accueil. Il revint au Caire et mourut dans les geôles du palais de la citadelle. Trois émirs de La Mecque moururent ainsi en exil ou en prison au Caire: ʿInān, son fils ʿAlī et Ḥasan. Aucun n’eut un règne paisible ; tous luttèrent les uns contre les autres, tous passèrent leur temps à changer de camp au gré des circonstances.

3

Esquisse d’une approche documentaire (analyse diplomatique) des lettres hafsides: la devise et le sceau

Nous aimerions tout d’abord essayer d’évoquer les pratiques de la chancellerie almohado-hafside. Le livre d’Ibn al-Aḥmar93 permet d’ établir une liste des «maîtres du paraphe» que nous avons synthétisée en un tableau (tableau 15.1). Pour ce qui du paraphe (ou devise), il est connu, comme dans le reste du monde musulman, qu’il (ou elle) sert à valider les actes qui émanent de l’ inshāʾ, de la chancellerie. C’est une haute fonction de cour qui est réservée généralement à de grands personnages ou du moins à des membres du

88 89 90 91 92 93

Bunschvig, La Berbérie orientale i, 216 ; Darrag, L’ Égypte 171. Al-Maqrīzī, Durar al-ʿuqūd ii, 16 (n° 407). Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iii, 16, 23. Ibn al-Ṣayrafī, Nuzhat al-nufūs iii, 74, 109. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iv, 655–6. Cf Ibn al-Aḥmar, Mustawdiʿ al-ʿalāma 19.

548

chapoutot-remadi

premier cercle. Dans le cas hafside, ce paraphe est l’ héritier d’ une devise almohade94. Cette dernière (al-Ḥamd lillāh waḥdahu, « Louanges à Dieu seul95 ») soulignait surtout l’attachement religieux des Almohades à l’ unitarisme (tawḥīd). La devise d’Abū Zakariyyāʾ Yaḥyā I, qui s’était contenté du titre d’ émir, était min al-amīr Abī Zakariyyāʾ («de la part de l’ émir Abū Zakariyyāʾ b. Abī Muḥammad b. al-Shaykh Abī Ḥafṣ»)96. On prête également au fondateur de la dynastie hafside une autre devise qui serait al-Shukr lillāh waḥdahu (« Reconnaissance à Dieu seul»); elle nous paraît tout à fait crédible dans la mesure où elle fait la transition avec la devise almohade citée plus haut97. C’ est son fils et successeur Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad qui en changea et opta pour une autre devise, après avoir pris le laqab d’al-Mustanṣir et proclamé son califat98. Plusieurs personnages illustres occupèrent cette charge de ṣāḥib al-ʿalāma, comme le lettré et historien valencien Ibn al-Abbār99. Ibn Khaldūn lui-même, au tout début de sa carrière, fut désigné comme ṣāḥib al-ʿalāma, secrétaire chargé du paraphe pour le sultan Abū Isḥāq Ibrāhīm II (750–70/1350–69) : « je devais écrire en gros caractères la devise “Louanges à Dieu et Grâce à Dieu” (alḥamd lillāh wa-l-shukr lillāh)100, insérée entre la basmala du haut de la page et le corps du texte sur les lettres et les décrets101». Un des grands shaykhs almohades de Tunis introduisit ensuite une autre réforme: elle consistait à distinguer une petite et une grande ʿalāma. Les décrets importants officiels émanant du calife porteraient dorénavant le paraphe tel qu’il a été cité, tandis que les actes de moindre importance seraient délégués à une personne que le sultan aurait désignée et ces documents seraient porteurs d’un autre paraphe. La grande devise (al-ʿalāma al-kubrā) doit être écrite après la basmala, au début du document alors que la petite ʿalāma est notée à 94 95

96 97 98

99 100 101

Picard et al., Recours à l’ écrit, en particulier les pages de H. El Allaoui, La ʿalāma expression de l’ idéologie almohade, 200–5. Cette devise apparaît également dans deux inscriptions funéraires hafsides, cf. al-AoudiAdouni, Stèles funéraires ii, 545, numéros 288 et 372 (datant respectivement de 793/1391 [ibid. i, 274] et de 828/1425 [ibid. ii, 418]). Al-Zarkashī, Tārīkh al-dawlatayn 62. Ibid., en annexe de l’ édition, 324. Al-Ḥamd lillāh wa-l-shukru lillāh (Louanges à Dieu et grâces à Dieu). Ibn Khaldūn, Kitāb al-ʿIbar vi, 636; trad. Cheddadi ii, 481. Cette formule se retrouve aussi sur une monnaie datant de son règne. Fénina, Sur une monnaie d’ or hafside 396. Il s’agit précisément de la monnaie d’ al-Mustanṣir. Al-Ghubrīnī, ʿUnwān al-dirāya 260 ; al-Zarkashī, Tārīkh al-dawlatayn 62, 75; Ibn Khaldūn, Kitāb al-ʿIbar vi, 653–5 ; trad. Cheddadi ii, 490–2. C’ est la même que celle d’ Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad I al-Mustanṣir; cf. infra. Ibn Khaldūn, Riḥla 849 ; trad. Cheddadi, 83; Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, Masālik al-abṣār 155; Brunschvig, La Berbérie orientale 61.

entre ifrīqiya hafside et égypte mamelouke

549

la fin de l’acte et, après il est souvent ajouté saḥḥa hādhā (« Cela est authentique»)102. Abū l-ʿAbbās Aḥmad avait pour le petit paraphe une autre devise : tawakkaltu ʿalā llāh wa-hwa ḥasbī («J’ai placé ma confiance en Dieu et il me suffit»). Cette devise hafside a semble-t-il duré au moins jusqu’ au règne d’ Abū Fāris ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz qui en aurait changé selon deux pièces d’ archives respectivement de 1397 et de 1414. Elle serait devenue lā ḥawl wa-lā quwwa illā bi-llāh al-ʿaẓīm («Il n’y a pas de préservation ni de force si ce n’est par Allah le Très-Grand»). Dans le premier document, la formule al-ḥamd lillāh ʿalā kull ḥāl (« Louange à Dieu en toute circonstance») a été ajoutée103. Rappelons pour finir que ces devises étaient souvent gravées sur les monnaies. Une autre originalité hafside est également à relever: les fonctions de kātib al-inshāʾ, secrétaire, et de préposé au paraphe étaient distinctes comme elles pouvaient parfois être confiées à un seul responsable. La liste des aṣḥāb alʿalāma pourrait être établie pour une bonne partie de l’ époque hafside104. Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī pour sa part précise d’après l’ un de ses informateurs que le sultan Abū Yaḥyā Abū Bakr (r. 718–47/1318–46) n’écrit rien lui-même sur les actes car il charge son préposé à la grande ʿalāma de le faire105. Généralement ce dernier est en même temps kātib al-sirr. Le papier réservé aux actes officiels était de couleur jaune106 tandis que les autres documents étaient d’une autre couleur (non précisée). Dans les lettres, il était d’usage de laisser une marge grandissante vers le bas ; arrivé en fin de page, le scribe continuait dans la marge en oblique par rapport au premier morceau ou même tout à fait à l’envers et le texte pouvait aussi se terminer au verso. La correspondance était placée dans une sorte de sac en cuir ou tissu et le messager la remettait au cours de l’audience royale, à son destinataire ou à son représentant qui l’ouvrait et la décousait puis la lisait107. Pourtant le chroniqueur tunisien al-Ṣaghīr (1104–85/1691–1771108) rapporte que lorsque la chancellerie hafside eut à écrire au sultan ottoman Bāyazīd II

102 103 104 105 106

107

108

Al-Zarkashī, Tārīkh al-dawlatayn 72. Brunschvig, La Berbérie orientale ii, 63–4. Voir le tableau 15.1 (préposés au paraphe). Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, Masālik al-abṣār iv, 154. Ibid. iv, 74 (« L’usage du papier de couleur jaune est une des particularités de ce sultan et dans la tradition des Maghrébins, leurs écrits sont en longueur avec des lignes resserrées, contrairement à la pratique en cours en Égypte et en Syrie»). Al-Ṣaghīr, al-Takmīl, fol. 145b. La remise de la lettre est décrite avec précision: «le shaykh al-Islām prit la correspondance, ouvrit les sacoches et les défit (ḥalla kharāʾiṭahum wafattaqahum) ». Les kharāʾiṭ sont des sortes de sacs en cuir ou en tissu. Il dit lui-même qu’ il recopie ce passage du livre de Ḥusayn Khūja (m. 1145/1732), Kitāb

550

chapoutot-remadi

(r. 886–918/1481–1512) pour jouer les bons offices entre lui et le sultan mamluk Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī109, le sultan Abū ʿAmr ʿUthmān (r. 839–93/1435–88) convoqua ses secrétaires et leur confia du papier d’or et d’ argent et la missive fut écrite en lettres d’or. Il existait donc des exceptions dans la pratique hafside, liées probablement au prestige du destinataire. Une autre remarque s’ impose également, c’est l’unique lettre, à notre connaissance, qui est en partie reproduite par une source locale110. Le hasard, qui fait bien les choses, réside dans le fait que Muḥammad ʿAdnān al-Bakhīt a retrouvé la lettre-réponse de Bāyazīd II et l’a publiée dans un article111. Une référence en note de l’ édition du Tevārīh Āl-i ʿOs̱mān de ʿĀşıḳ Pāşā-Zāde confirme en note cette entremise112. Nous savons que l’entremise hafside a réussi car deux informations puisées dans d’autres sources valident cette démarche. Ibn Iyās fait état, dans le récit de l’année 896/1491, de l’arrivée d’un grand émissaire d’ Ibn ʿUthmān, un des cadis les plus illustres du nom de Shaykh ʿAlī Jalabī (Çelebi), qui rapportait les clés des forteresses qui avaient été enlevées par les Ottomans. La nouvelle de la paix entre Ibn ʿUthmān et le sultan se répandit. Ce dernier libéra les prisonniers ottomans et les renvoya chez eux113. Un deuxième élément confirme par ailleurs cette démarche: c’est la réponse de Bāyazīd II à ʿAbd al-Muʾmīn b. Ibrāhīm qui mentionne clairement dans sa lettre l’ intervention hafside114. L’ imbroglio causé par les erreurs colportées par les sources tunisiennes tar-

109

110 111 112

113 114

Bashā’ir ahl al-īmān fī futūḥāt Āl ʿUthmān. Al-Ṣaghīr, al-Takmīl, fol. 145b. Cette partie est malheureusement encore inédite. Je remercie mon collègue Faouzi Mostaghanmi qui m’a permis de consulter et d’ utiliser l’ édition du Takmīl qu’il compte publier prochainement. Il ne s’ agit pas de Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī mais de Qāytbāy. Il y a une erreur, car en 896/1491, c’ est Qāytbāy (872–901/1468–96) qui règne et c’ est lui qui a mené des campagnes successives contre les Ottomans qui se sont achevées par la paix de 1491. Al-Ṣaghīr, al-Takmīl, fol. 145b–146b. Al-Bakhīt, Risāla. ʿĀşıḳ Pāşā-Zāde, Menāḳıb 240, n. 4. Il mentionne l’ entremise hafside et le nom d’un messager, un certain al-Muftī Zayn al-Dīn ʿAlī ʿArabī (cette référence m’a été signalée par un ami résidant à Istanbul). Al-Ẓāhirī, Nayl al-amal viii, 162. L’auteur signale qu’il a reproduit les deux lettres dans son livre al-Rawḍ al-bāsim, mais l’éditeur du Nayl al-amal précise en note qu’ elles ne figurent pas dans la partie conservée de l’œuvre. Ce qui ajoute cependant à la confusion, c’ est que ʿAlī al-ʿArabī est mentionné ici comme étant ʿālim al-Rūm, donc à tout le moins le messager ottoman. Cf. Tableau chronologique des correspondances (tableau 15.3); Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iii, 281–2. Al-Bakhīt, Risāla ; Ibn al-Ḥimṣī, Ḥawādith al-zamān i, 327, relate, pour l’année 896/1491, les démarches qui concrétisent la réconciliation entre Ottomans et Mamelouks et il mentionne la mort, à Damas, de l’ émissaire hafside qui avait joué les bons offices dans cette affaire : Sayyidī Muḥammad al-Ḥalfāwī. À ce sujet, voir l’article de Ben Miled dans ce volume.

entre ifrīqiya hafside et égypte mamelouke

551

dives a été en fait résolu grâce aux biographies des princes hafsides rapportées par al-Sakhāwī, d’ailleurs reprises par Robert Brunschvig; la difficulté principale tient en fait à l’usage de noms très proches dans la titulature des Hafsides. D’autre part, la lettre de Bāyazīd a mis beaucoup de temps entre Tunis et Istanbul alors qu’une grave crise de succession sévissait à Tunis après la mort d’ Abū ʿAmr ʿUthmān (m. 893/1487). Son petit-fils, Abū Zakariyyāʾ Yaḥyā IV b. Muḥammad al-Masʿūd b. ʿUthmān (r. 893–4/1488–9115), qui lui a succédé, a été assassiné après quelques mois de règne par son cousin ʿAbd al-Muʾmin b. Ibrāhīm b. ʿUthmān (r. 894–5/1489–90). Il était d’ailleurs sanguinaire et avait éliminé beaucoup de ses parents. ʿAbd al-Muʾmin n’était pas plus recommandable et le troisième, Zakariyyāʾ b. Yaḥyā (r. 895–9/1490–4116) vengea son père et s’ empara du pouvoir à son tour – à l’aide de tribus bédouines toujours prêtes à donner un coup de main – après avoir empoisonné ʿAbd al-Muʾmin et l’ un de ses fils. Son règne fut très bref, car il fut emporté par la peste qui ravageait le pays. Ibn Khaldūn donne des informations très détaillées sur la pratique maghrébine et sur le sceau (khātam), en particulier, autre élément pour la validation des actes officiels: «Le sceau est une charge gouvernementale et une fonction du pouvoir temporel. Avant comme après l’islam, il était d’ usage que les souverains scellent les lettres et les pièces officielles… Les lettres sont fermées soit en perçant la feuille comme c’est l’usage au Maghreb, soit en collant le haut de la feuille, repliée sur l’autre bout, comme chez les Orientaux. A l’ endroit percé ou collé, on appose une signature pour garantir que la lettre ne sera pas ouverte et lue. Au Maghreb, on met à l’endroit où la feuille est percée un morceau de cire et on appose dessus un sceau sur lequel est gravée une signature. La gravure est imprimée sur la cire… La gravure s’imprimait sur l’ argile… Le sceau… dépendait spécialement du dīwān al-inshāʾ… Dans les États du Maghreb, on le considéra comme une marque ou un emblème du pouvoir. C’ était un anneau d’or incrusté d’un rubis, d’une turquoise ou d’une émeraude. Le souverain le portait comme un insigne royal, à l’instar de ce qu’ était le manteau du Prophète et le bâton pour les Abbassides, ou le parasol pour les ʿUbaydites117 ». 3.1

L’apport des manuels de chancellerie mameloukes sur le rang des sultans hafsides au regard de la chancellerie égyptienne Si l’on se réfère à présent aux principaux manuels de chancellerie égyptiens, pour compléter ces informations recueillies dans les sources maghrébines, on 115 116 117

Brunschvig, La Berbérie orientale i, 276–8; al-Sakhāwī, al-Dhayl al-tāmm ii, 467, 493, 540; al-Sakhāwī, al-Ḍawʾ al-lāmiʿ x, 250. Al-Sakhāwī, al-Dhayl al-tāmm ii, 494, 540 ; al-Sakhāwī, al-Ḍawʾ al-lāmiʿ x, 258. Ibn Khaldūn, Kitāb al-ʿIbar i, 473–7 ; trad. Cheddadi ii, 579–82.

552

chapoutot-remadi

constate que leurs auteurs ne font pas que se compiler les uns les autres. Il est intéressant de noter concernant l’Ifrīqiya que leurs informations sur ce pays sont datées et que nos auteurs semblent très bien informés. Même s’ ils se recopient, ils actualisent chaque fois les noms des souverains qui sont leurs contemporains. Par contre, ils nomment le pays le plus souvent Bilād al-Gharb et le sultan généralement ṣāḥib al-Gharb. C’est ainsi qu’Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī considère que l’ État hafside de son temps est, sans conteste, le plus puissant des États du Maghreb (wa-hwa ajall mulūk al-Gharb muṭlaqan)118. Sa description est contemporaine du règne d’Abū Yaḥyā Abū Bakr al-Mutawakkil mais il rapporte qu’ une crise importante frappe cet État du fait de la tentative mérinide d’ Abū l-Ḥasan ʿAlī (731–49/1331– 48) de s’emparer de l’Ifrīqiya119. Ibn Nāẓir al-Jaysh (m. 786/1384), quant à lui, mentionne que de son temps le sultan mérinide était le plus fort et qu’ à Tunis règne alors Abū Isḥāq Ibrāhīm II120. Tout en citant le Taʿrīf d’Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, al-Qalqashandī prend soin de noter que le sultan qui gouverne aux environs de l’ an 800/1397–8, s’ appelle Abū Fāris ʿAzzūz (ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz) (796–837/1394–1434). « Il règne à notre époque en 813/1410. Sa réputation de bravoure parvint jusqu’ à nous ainsi que son équité. Il pacifia le pays, tua les Aʿrāb bédouins et supprima les impôts non coraniques (mukūs121)». Ibn Ḥijja (m. 837/1434) est lui également contemporain du règne d’Abū Fāris ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz puisqu’il meurt la même année que lui. Quant à al-Saḥmāwī (m. 868/1464), il mentionne Abū ʿAmr ʿUthmān (839–93/1435– 88)122. La lecture du Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā nous livre des informations précieuses sur le protocole épistolaire qui régissait les correspondances entre Tunis et Le Caire. Pour être le plus clair possible, il faudra parler d’une part du protocole en matière de contenu et d’autre part du support. Un élément frappant dans l’ énumération des titres conférés aux souverains étrangers dans les correspondances est que les occurrences les plus nombreuses concernent ceux octroyés aux sultans de Tunis. Nous avons noté 50 alqāb simples (mufrada) et composés (murakkaba). Serait-ce un signe d’une fréquence plus grande des relations diplomatiques ? Dans le reste des titulatures citées, il est rarement fait mention des souverains pour lesquels ils sont employés dans les correspondances.

118 119 120 121 122

Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, al-Taʿrīf 42. Ibid. 39. Ibn Nāẓir al-Jaysh, Tathqīf al-Taʿrīf 21, 23. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā vii, 378–9. Al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim ii, 800.

entre ifrīqiya hafside et égypte mamelouke

553

Certaines titulatures conférées aux sultans hafsides dans les lettres émanant de la chancellerie mamelouke ont toute une histoire qui remonte au fondateur de la dynastie almoravide, Yūsuf b. Tāshufīn, qui avait reconnu le califat abbasside de Bagdad et qui s’était contenté d’un laqab en amīr al-muslimīn, par respect pour le calife existant. Cette titulature est héritée par leurs successeurs mérinides et abdelwadides, mais elle est rejetée par les Hafsides. Pourtant, Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, dans son Taʿrīf 123, a l’air de penser que c’ est tout ce qu’ ils méritent. Fait plus important, nous retrouvons ce laqab d’amīr al-muslimīn dans la correspondance officielle adressée au sultan hafside124.

4

Conclusion

Si les sultans mamelouks et, en particulier, Muḥammad b. Qalāwūn furent beaucoup plus liés avec les Mérinides, il semblerait qu’ à partir du règne d’ alẒāhir Barqūq les relations entre les Hafsides et les Mamelouks fussent plus suivies et généralement plus cordiales. Trois grands règnes hafsides successifs, celui d’Abū l-ʿAbbās Aḥmad, Abū Fāris ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz et Abū ʿAmr ʿUthmān expliquent peut-être comment ces sultans ont pu s’ imposer comme les principaux interlocuteurs maghrébins depuis le dernier tiers du XIVe siècle et au XVe siècle. Les Mérinides disparaissent en 1465 mais leur déclin avait commencé dès la fin du XIVe siècle et les Abdelwadides de Tlemcen furent constamment en butte aux attaques des Mérinides et des Hafsides. Quant aux Nasrides, l’ avancée de la Reconquista en faisait de constants demandeurs d’ aide adressée à tous les souverains musulmans. C’est probablement la raison pour laquelle la préoccupation principale des Hafsides était la protection de la caravane de La Mecque et celle des sultans mamelouks essentiellement le commerce et l’ acquisition des chevaux de race barbe. Si, au début, les relations avaient pu être mauvaises, c’est surtout à cause du problème du califat et de la politique de rapprochement des chérifs de La Mecque mais, par la suite, cette affaire perdit totalement de son importance. Les sultans mamelouks s’affirment comme les plus grands souverains musulmans et la titulature qui apparaît dans leurs correspondances souligne leur rôle incontesté de Serviteur des deux villes saintes (khādim al-ḥaramayn alsharīfayn), leur statut d’associé du Commandeur des Croyants (qasīm amīr al-muʾminīn), et de sulṭān al-ʿArab wa-l-ʿAjam wa-l-Turk. L’Ifrīqiya hafside est un

123 124

Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, al-Taʿrīf 42. BnF, MS 4440, fol. 47b ; Colin, Contribution 198–9.

554

chapoutot-remadi

État ami, certes, mais une puissance moyenne. Pour les Mamelouks, les souverains les plus puissants se trouvent à l’Est: ce sont les descendants de Tamerlan et de Shāh Rukh et les Ottomans. table 15.1 Liste des préposés au paraphe (aṣḥāb al-ʿalāma) Noms

Sultans hafsides

Sources

1.

Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad b. Muḥammad b. al-Jalāʾ alBijāʾī (m. 638/1240)

Abū Zakariyyāʾ Yaḥyā I (627– 47/1229–49)

al-Zarkashī, Tārīkh al-dawlatayn 61– 2; Ibn Qunfudh, al-Fārisiyya 232; Ibn al-Aḥmar, Mustawdiʿ al-ʿalāma 30.

2.

Muḥammad b. ʿAbdallāh b. Abī Bakr b. al-Abbār al-Quḍāʿī l-Balansī (m. 658/1259)

Abū Zakariyyāʾ Yaḥyā I

al-Zarkashī, Tārīkh al-dawlatayn 60, 62, 75; Ibn Qunfudh, al-Fārisiyya 28, 116, 126; Ibn al-Aḥmar, Mustawdiʿ alʿalāma 28; Ibn Khaldūn, Kitāb al-ʿIbar, trad. Cheddadi ii, 460–3, 490–2.

3.

Abū l-ʿAbbās Aḥmad b. Abū Zakariyyāʾ Yaḥyā I Ibrāhīm b. ʿAbd al-Ḥaqq alGhassānī l-Tūnisī al-Andalusī (m. 668/1269)

al-Zarkashī, Tārīkh al-dawlatayn 62, 70, 75, 82; Ibn Qunfudh, al-Fārisiyya 116, 123–5; Ibn Shammāʿ, al-Adilla albayyina 51; Ibn al-Aḥmar, Mustawdiʿ al-ʿalāma 29; Ibn Khaldūn, Kitāb alʿIbar, trad. Cheddadi ii, 490, 493.

4.

Muḥammad b. Abī l-Ḥusayn al-ʿAnsī l-Tūnisī des Banū Saʿīd, maîtres d’ al-Qalʿa près de Grenade (m. 669/1270 ou 671/1271–2)

Abū Zakariyyāʾ Yaḥyā I

al-Zarkashī, Tārīkh al-dawlatayn 82– 3; Ibn Qunfudh, al-Fārisiyya 116, 132; Ibn al-Aḥmar, Mustawdiʿ al-ʿalāma 29; Ibn Khaldūn, Kitāb al-ʿIbar, trad. Cheddadi ii, 107, 483, 486, 491, 504, 506.

5.

Abū ʿAmr Aḥmad b. Malik b. Sayyidihim al-Lakhmī lIshbīlī

Abū Zakariyyāʾ Yaḥyā I

Ibn al-Aḥmar, Mustawdiʿ al-ʿalāma 30.

6.

Muḥammad b. Ibrāhīm b. al-Raʾīs al-Rabaʿī l-Tūnisī

Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad I al-Mustanṣir (647–75/1249– 77)

al-Zarkashī, Tārīkh al-dawlatayn 82–3; Ibn al-Aḥmar, Mustawdiʿ al-ʿalāma 30; Brunschvig, La Berbérie orientale i, 69.

7.

Abū l-Ḥasan ʿAlī b. Ibrāhīm b. Abī ʿAmr (m. 674/1275)

al-Zarkashī, Tārīkh al-dawlatayn 83; Ibn Qunfudh, al-Fārisiyya 124, 151; Ibn al-Aḥmar, Mustawdiʿ al-ʿalāma ; Ibn Khaldūn, Kitāb al-ʿIbar vi, 671.

555

entre ifrīqiya hafside et égypte mamelouke Table 15.1 Liste des préposés au paraphe (aṣḥāb al-ʿalāma) (suite) Noms

Sultans hafsides

Sources

8.

al-Ḥājib Abū l-Ḥusayn Yaḥyā b. ʿAbd al-Malik al-Ghāfiqī l-Tūnisī Ibn Ḥababar

Abū Zakariyyāʾ Yaḥyā II alWāthiq (675–8/1277–9)

al-Zarkashī, Tārīkh al-dawlatayn 86– 8; Ibn al-Aḥmar, Mustawdiʿ al-ʿalāma 31; Ibn Khaldūn, Kitāb al-ʿIbar, trad. Cheddadi ii, 510–4, 537.

9.

Muḥammad b. al-Ḥājib Yaḥyā b. ʿAbd al-Malik alGhāfiqī (fils du précédent)

Abū Zakariyyāʾ Yaḥyā II alWāthiq

al-Zarkashī, Tārīkh al-dawlatayn 86; Ibn al-Aḥmar, Mustawdiʿ al-ʿalāma 31.

10.

Abū l-Qāsim b. Abī Muḥammad ʿAbd al-Wahhāb b. Abī ʿAbd al-Wahhāb b. al-Qāʾid al-Kalāʿī (m. 679/1280 ou 681/1282)

Abū Zakariyyāʾ Yaḥyā II alWāthiq

al-Zarkashī, Tārīkh al-dawlatayn 87, 91; Ibn Qunfudh, al-Fārisiyya 137–9; Al-Tijānī, al-Riḥla 381; Ibn Khaldūn, Kitāb al-ʿIbar vi, 684; Ibn al-Aḥmar, Mustawdiʿ al-ʿalāma 31.

11.

Abū l-Ḥasan Yaḥyā b. Abī Marwān al-Andalusī lḤimyarī al-mashhūr bi-lKhabīr (Murcie)

Abū Zakariyyāʾ Yaḥyā II alWāthiq

al-Zarkashī, Tārīkh al-dawlatayn 86; Ibn Qunfudh, al-Fārisiyya 134–7, 139; Ibn Khaldūn, Kitāb al-ʿIbar vi, 677–8.

12.

Abū l-ʿAbbās Aḥmad b. Muḥammad al-Ghammāz al-Khazrajī l-Balansī (609– 93/1209–93)

Abū Isḥāq Ibrāhīm I (678– 81/1279–82)

al-Zarkashī, Tārīkh al-dawlatayn 81–2; Ibn Qunfudh, al-Fārisiyya 136, 138, 151; Ibn al-Aḥmar, Mustawdiʿ al-ʿalāma 31; al-Ghubrīnī, ʿUnwān al-dirāya 129.

13.

Ibrāhīm b. Muḥammad b. Rushayd

14.

al-Ḥasan b. Mūsā b. Muʿammar al-Hawwārī l-Ṭarābulusī, Khaṭṭāṭ al-ʿalāma wa-l-riqāʿ (609–681/ 1212–81)

15.

Abū l-Qāsim Aḥmad b. Yaḥyā al-Dāʿī Aḥmad b. Marzūq b. b. Muḥammad b. Asad b. al- Abī ʿUmāra al-Khayyāṭ alAnṣārī Faḍl (681–3/1282–4)

al-Zarkashī, Tārīkh al-dawlatayn 98; Ibn al-Aḥmar, Mustawdiʿ al-ʿalāma 32.

16.

Abū l-Faḍl b. Muḥammad b. Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad I ʿAlī b. al-Khabbāz al-Lawātī al-Mustanṣir (647–75/1249– l-Mahdawī (600–83/1203–84) 77) Abū Yaḥyā Zakariyyāʾ I alLiḥyānī (711–7/1311–7)

al-Zarkashī, Tārīkh al-dawlatayn 81–2, 106, 130; Ibn Qunfudh, al-Fārisiyya 160; Ibn al-Aḥmar, Mustawdiʿ alʿalāma 33.

al-Zarkashī, Tārīkh al-dawlatayn 91.

Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad I al-Mustanṣir (647–75/1249– 77)

al-Zarkashī, Tārīkh al-dawlatayn 98; al-Tijānī, al-Riḥla, 274–5; al-Ghubrīnī, ʿUnwān al-dirāya 307; Ibn al-Aḥmar, Mustawdiʿ al-ʿalāma 32; Brunschvig, La Berbérie orientale ii, 61.

556

chapoutot-remadi

Table 15.1 Liste des préposés au paraphe (aṣḥāb al-ʿalāma) (suite) Noms

Sultans hafsides

Sources

17.

Abū l-Ḥasan Muḥammad b. Ibrāhīm b. al-Dabbāgh al-ḥājib al-Ishbīlī (651– 709/1253–1310)

Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad II al-madʿuww Abū ʿAṣīda al-Mustanṣir (694–709/1295– 1309) et Abū Yaḥyā Abū Bakr I al-Shahīd (709/1309)

al-Zarkashī, Tārīkh al-dawlatayn 118, 121–2, 125; Ibn al-Aḥmar, Mustawdiʿ alʿalāma 33; Ibn Khaldūn, Kitāb al-ʿIbar vi, 711–2; trad. Cheddadi ii, 539–40, 544, 555.

18.

Abū Zayd ʿAbd al-Raḥmān b. Muḥammad b. al-Ghāzī lQusantīnī, Ḥājib (exerça sous trois règnes)

Abū l-Baqāʾ Khālid I al-Nāṣir (709–11/1309–11) Abū Zakariyyāʾ Yaḥyā III alMuntakhab (Malik Bijāya) (684–94/1285–95)

al-Zarkashī, Tārīkh al-dawlatayn 125; Ibn Qunfudh, al-Fārisiyya 156; Ibn alAḥmar, Mustawdiʿ al-ʿalāma 34.

19.

Muhammad b. Ahmad alTijānī l-Tūnisī

al-Muʿtaḍid ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz b. Ibrāhīm b. Yahyā, Malik Bijāya

Ibn al-Aḥmar, Mustawdiʿ al-ʿalāma 34.

20. ʿAbdallāh b. Muḥammad alTijānī (m. ap. 717/1317) (son fils)

Abū Yaḥyā Zakariyyāʾ I alLiḥyānī (711–7/1311–7)

al-Zarkashī, Tārīkh al-dawlatayn 130; Ibn Qunfudh, al-Fārisiyya 160; Ibn alAḥmar, Mustawdiʿ al-ʿalāma 34.

21.

Abū Darba Muḥammad III al-Mustanṣir (717–8/1317–8)

Ibn Khaldūn, Kitāb al-ʿIbar vi, 839; Ibn al-Aḥmar, Mustawdiʿ al-ʿalāma 35.

22. ʿAbdallāh b. ʿAlī b. Ibrāhīm b. ʿAbdallāh (son fils)

Abū Ḥafs ʿUmar II alMustanṣir (747–8/1346–8)

Ibn al-Aḥmar, Mustawdiʿ al-ʿalāma 35.

23.

Al-Mutawakkil ʿalā llāh Malik al-Maghrib Abū ʿInān (750/1350)

Ibn al-Aḥmar, Mustawdiʿ al-ʿalāma 36.

24. Abū l-Qāsim Muḥammad b. Yahyā b. Muḥammad alGhassānī l-Burjī

al-Mustanṣir bi-llāh Muḥammad b. Yaḥyā Abī Yaḥyā al-Muwaḥḥad, Malik Bijāya, puis Abū ʿInān al-Marīnī

Ibn al-Aḥmar, Mustawdiʿ al-ʿalāma 56.

25. ʿAbd al-Raḥmān b. Muḥammad b. al-Ḥusayn b. Khaldūn al-Haḍramī l-Tūnisī

Abū Isḥāq Ibrāhīm II alMustanṣir (750–8/1350–7 et 758–70/1357–69)

Ibn al-Aḥmar, Mustawdiʿ al-ʿalāma 64.

26. Ibrāhīm b. ʿAbdallāh b. Ibrāhīm b. al-Ḥājj al-Numayrī

Muḥammad b. Abī Bakr alMutawakkil al-Bijāʾī

Ibn al-Aḥmar, Mustawdiʿ al-ʿalāma 69.

ʿAlī b. Ibrāhīm b. ʿAbdāllāh b. Abī ʿAmr al-Tamīmī l-Tūnisī

Muḥammad b. Muḥammad b. Abī ʿAmr al-Tamīmī alḤājib (son petit-neveu)

557

entre ifrīqiya hafside et égypte mamelouke Table 15.1 Liste des préposés au paraphe (aṣḥāb al-ʿalāma) (suite) Noms

Sultans hafsides

Sources

27. Abū Zakariyyāʾ Yaḥyā b. Ibrāhīm al-Waḥḥād al-Kūmī l-Qusantīnī

Abū l-ʿAbbās Aḥmad alMustanṣir (772–96/1370–94)

al-Zarkashī, Tārīkh al-dawlatayn 217; Brunschvig, La Berbérie orientale i, 188; ii, 409.

28. Muḥammad b. Qāsim b. alḤajar (m. 810/1408)

Abū l-ʿAbbās Aḥmad alMustanṣir

al-Zarkashī, Tārīkh al-dawlatayn 217, 247; Ibn Qunfudh, al-Fārisiyya 285; Brunschvig, La Berbérie orientale i, 188, 211.

29. Abū ʿAbdallāh Ibn Ḥajar (son Abū Fāris ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz (796– petit-fils) (m. 841/1438) 837/1394–1434)

al-Zarkashī, Tārīkh al-dawlatayn 247, 275; Brunschvig, La Berbérie orientale i, 211.

30. Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad al-Tawāsī (m. 855/1451)

Abū ʿAmr ʿUthmān (839– 893/1435–88)

al-Zarkashī, Tārīkh al-dawlatayn 276, 288.

31.

Abū ʿAmr ʿUthmān

al-Zarkashī, Tārīkh al-dawlatayn 288.

ʿUmar b. Aḥmad b. Qalīl alHamm

32. Masʿūd b. Muḥammad b. ʿAlī al-Salawī b. al-Jazzār

al-Muktafī bi-llāh ʿAbd alIbn al-Aḥmar, Mustawdiʿ al-ʿalāma 70. Raḥmān b. Muḥammad b. Abī Yaḥyā, roi de Constantine

table 15.2 Échanges entre souverains d’ Ifrīqiya et d’ Égypte

Sultans hafsides Abū Yūsuf Yaʿqūb al-Manṣūr al-Muwaḥḥidī (580–95/1184–99) Abū Zakariyyāʾ Yaḥyā I b. Abī Muḥammad b. ʿAbd al-Wāḥid (627–47/1229–49) Sultans hafsides Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad I al-Mustanṣir (647–75/1249–77) Ibn Abī ʿUmāra al-Dāʿī Aḥmad b. Marzūq, le pseudo al-Faḍl (681–3/1282–4) Abū Ḥafs ʿUmar (683–93/1284–95) Abū Yaḥyā Zakariyyāʾ b. Ahmad al-Liḥyānī (711–7/1311–7)

Sultans ayyoubides al-Nāṣir Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn Yūsuf (564–89/1169–93) al-Ṣālih II Najm al-Dīn Ayyūb (637–47/1240–9) Sultans mamelouks et ottoman al-Ẓāhir Rukn al-Dīn Baybars (658–76/1260– 77) al-Manṣūr Sayf al-Dīn Qalāwūn (678–89/1279– 90) al-Manṣūr Qalāwūn al-Nāṣir Muḥammad b. Qalāwūn (2e et 3e règnes)

558

chapoutot-remadi

Table 15.2 Échanges entre souverains d’ Ifrīqiya et d’ Égypte (suite)

Abū l-ʿAbbās Aḥmad (772–96/1370–94) Abū Fāris ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz (796–837/1394–1434) Abū Fāris ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz Muḥammad IV al-Muntaṣir (837–8/1434–5) Abū ʿAmr ʿUthmān (839–93/1435–87) Abū ʿAmr ʿUthmān Abū ʿAmr ʿUthmān Abū ʿAmr ʿUthmān ʿAbd al-Muʾmin b. Ibrāhīm (894–5/1489–90) Abū Yaḥyā Zakariyyāʾ II (895–9/1490–4)

al-Ẓāhir Sayf al-Dīn Barqūq (1er règne 784– 91/1382–9) et (2e règne 792–801/1390–9) al-Nāṣir Nāṣir al-Dīn Faraj (1er règne 801– 8/1399–1405, 2nd règne 808–15/1405–12) al-Ashraf Sayf al-Dīn Barsbāy (825–41/1422–38) al-Ashraf Barsbāy al-Ashraf Barsbāy al-Ẓāhir Sayf al-Dīn Jaqmaq (842–57/1438–53) al-Ashraf Qāytbāy (872–901/1468–96) Bāyazīd II (886–918/1481–1512) Bāyazīd II Bāyazīd II

table 15.3 Liste des correspondances échangées125 N°

Sources

Rédacteurs/ messager

I

Kitāb al-Istibṣār 104, 106 ; al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā vi, 526–30 ; Abū Shāma al-Rawḍatayn ii, 171–3 (trad. Barbier de Meynard iv, 497–506).

2 lettres ? al-Qāḍī l-Fāḍil/ Ibn Munqidh

II

al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat alarab viii, 101–5.

III

Ibn Khaldūn, Kitāb alʿIbar vi, 634–51.

Risālat al-bayʿa Ibn Sabʿīn/ Ibn Burṭala alMursī

IV

Ibn Khaldūn, Kitāb alʿIbar vii, 1061–5 ; Ibn Khaldūn, al-Riḥla, trad. Cheddadi, 163–6.

Lettre solliciDes étoffes, des tant la venue de parfums et des la famille d’ Ibn arcs Khaldūn

125

Cadeaux

Date

Sultans

Shaʿbān Saladin vs Abū 583/Octobre Yūsuf Yaʿqūb 1187 al-Manṣūr Ramaḍān 587/SeptembreOctobre 1191 Baybars vs alMustanṣir Abū Numayy Amīr Makka vs al-Mustanṣir

15 Ṣafar 786/8 avril 1384

al-Ẓāhir Barqūq vs Abū l-ʿAbbās Aḥmad

Les lettres VIII–XIII se trouvent dans le MS 4440 exploité par Bauden, Les Relations.

559

entre ifrīqiya hafside et égypte mamelouke Table 15.3 Liste des correspondances échangées (suite) N°

Sources

Rédacteurs/ messager

Cadeaux

V

al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā viii, 79–84 ; Ibn al-Furāt, Tārīkh al-duwal ix, 222–8.

Muḥammad b. ʿAlī b. Abī Hilāl

16 chevaux, des Printemps épées serties de 792/1390 joyaux

VI

al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā vii, 379–84 ; Ibn al-Furāt, Tārīkh al-duwal ix, 228–32.

Lettre-réponse ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn ʿAlī al-Bīrī, Kātib al-dast

VII

Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat alinshāʾ, 59–63 ?

lettre-réponse

812/1415

Al-Muʾayyad Shaykh vs Abū ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz

VIII

MS 4440, fol. 49b ; Bauden, Les Relations ; al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim ii, 802–3.

Lettre écrite au grand-père d’ al-Muntaṣir Sharaf al-Dīn Abū Bakr almaʿrūf bi-Sibṭ Ibn al-ʿAjamī

831/1428

Al-Ashraf Barsbāy vs Abū Fāris ʿAbd alʿAzīz

IX

MS 4440, fol. 49a ; Bauden, Les Relations.

X126

MS 4440, fol. 47b ; Bauden, Les Relations.

Lettre de condoléances et de félicitations Sayf al-Dīn Junayd, amīr ākhūr

11 Rabīʿ I 838/15 octobre 1434

Al-Ashraf Barsbāy vs alMuntaṣir

XI

MS 4440, fol. 56a ; Bauden, Les Relations.

Lettre de Tunis Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad al-Khawlānī

849/1445

Abū ʿAmr ʿUthmān vs al-Ẓāhir Jaqmaq

126

Date

Sultans

Abū l-ʿAbbās Aḥmad vs alẒāhir Barqūq

Al-Ẓāhir Barqūq vs Abū l-ʿAbbās Aḥmad

Sans en-tête mais adressée à Abū Fāris (modèle de lettre)

Cette lettre a été publiée par Colin, Contribution 198–9.

560

chapoutot-remadi

Table 15.3 Liste des correspondances échangées (suite) N°

Sources

Rédacteurs/ messager

XII127 MS 4440, fol. 61a ; Bauden, Lettre de Tunis Les Relations.

Cadeaux

Date

Sultans

20 Jumādā II 872/17 janvier 1468

XIII

MS 4440, fol. 67b ; Bauden, Les Relations.

Lettre d’ Égypte

Abū ʿAmr ʿUthmān vs al-Ashraf Qāytbāy Hafside?

XIV

al-Ṣaghīr, al-Takmīl, fol. 145b128.

Extrait de lettre envoyée de Tunis

Abū ʿAmr ʿUthmān vs Bāyazīd II

XV

MS Or. Sprenger 15 (Berlin129).

Réponse de Bāyazīd II

Début Rajab 896/9–19 mai 1491

Bāyazīd II vs ʿAbd al-Muʾmin b. Ibrāhīm

Bibliographie Sources (manuscrites) Anonyme, Munshaʾa (Arabe), MS Arabe 4440, Paris, BnF. Ibn al-Wardī, Kharīdat al-ʿajāʾib wa-farīdat al-gharāʾib, MS Or. Sprenger 15, Berlin, Staatsbibliothek. al-Ṣaghīr (al-Ṣughayyar), al-Takmīl al-mushfī lil-ghalīl ʿalā Kitāb al-ʿIbar li-ʿAbd al-Raḥmān Ibn Khaldūn, MS 5264, Bibliothèque nationale de Tunis.

Sources (imprimées) al-ʿAbbāsī, Āthār al-uwal fī tartīb al-duwal, Bulaq 1878. ʿAbd Allāh al-Tarjumān, Tuḥfat al-arīb fī l-radd ʿalā ahl al-ṣalīb, La Mecque 1982. Abū Shāma, Kitāb al-Rawḍatayn fī akhbār al-dawlatayn, 2 vol., Bulaq 1871–5; trad. A.C. Barbier de Meynard, in Recueil des Historiens des Croisades, Historiens orientaux, IV et V, Paris 1848–1906. 127 128 129

Cette lettre a été publiée par Colin, Contribution 201–3. Elle n’est pas adressée par alAshraf Īnāl au sultan de Tunis mais par al-Biqāʿī à la demande du messager égyptien. Bāyazīd II (886–918/1481–1512) et ʿAbd al-Muʾmin b. Ibrāhīm al-Ḥafṣī (894–5/1489–90). Recopiée et ajoutée au manuscrit d’ Ibn al-Wardī, Kharīdat al-ʿajāʾib wa-farīdat al-gharāʾib. Lettre publiée par al-Bakhīt, Risāla. N.B. La lettre envoyée par Bāyazīd II à Qāytbāy est seulement mentionnée par Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iii, 281–2.

entre ifrīqiya hafside et égypte mamelouke

561

Anonyme, Kitāb al-Istibṣār fī ʿajāʾib al-amṣār, éd. S.Z.ʿA. al-Ḥ., Casablanca 1985. ʿĀşıḳ Pāşā-Zāde, Menāḳıb u tevārīh-i āl-i ʿOs̱mān, Istanbul 1914. al-ʿAynī, ʿIqd al-jumān fī tārīkh ahl al-zamān, al-ḥawādith min sanat 815 ilā sanat 824, éd. M.M. Amīn, 4 vol., Le Caire 1987–; années 824 à 850, éd. ʿA. al-R. al-Ṭantāwī alQarmūṭ, Le Caire 1985. al-ʿAynī, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir fī sīrat al-Malik al-Ẓāhir Ṭaṭar, éd. H. Ernst, Le Caire 1962. al-ʿAynī, al-Sayf al-muhannad fī sīrat al-Malik al-Muʾayyad Shaykh al-Maḥmūdī, éd. F.M. Shaltūt, rév. M.M. Ziyāda, Le Caire 1998. Baybars al-Manṣūrī, Zubdat al-fikra fī tārīkh al-hijra, éd. D.S. Richards, Beyrouth 1998. al-Biqāʿī, Iẓhār al-ʿaṣr li-asrār ahl al-ʿaṣr: Tārīkh al-Biqāʿī, éd. M.S. al-ʿAwfī, 3 vol., Le Caire 1992–3. Fagnan, E., Extraits inédits relatifs au Maghreb (géographie et histoire), traduits de l’arabe et annotés, Alger 1924. al-Fāsī, al-ʿIqd al-thamīn fī tārīkh al-balad al-amīn, Beirut 1406/1986. al-Ghubrīnī, ʿUnwān al-dirāya fī man ʿurifa min al-ʿulamāʾ fī l-miʾa al-sābiʿa bi-Bijāya, éd. R. Bunār, Alger 1981. Ḥamāda, M.M., al-Wathāʾiq al-siyāsiyya lil-ʿaṣr al-mamlukī, 656–922/1258–1516: dirāsa wa-nuṣūṣ, Beirut 1983. Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir fī sīrat al-Malik al-Ẓāhir, éd. ʿA. al-ʿA. Khuwayṭir, Riyadh 1976. Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, Tashrīf al-ayyām wa-l-ʿuṣūr fī sīrat al-Malik al-Manṣūr, éd. M. Kāmil et M.ʿA. Najjār, Le Caire 1961. Ibn Abī Dīnār al-Qayrawānī, al-Muʾnis fī akhbār Ifrīqiya wa-Tūnis, éd. M. Shamma, Tunis 1967. Ibn al-Aḥmar, Mustawdiʿ al-ʿalāma wa-mustabdiʿ al-ʿallāma, éd. M. al-Turkī al-Tūnisī, rév. M. b. T. al-Ṭānjī, Tétouan 1964. Ibn Duqmāq, al-Tuḥfa al-miskiyya fī l-dawla al-turkiyya, min Kitāb al-Jawhar al-thamīn fī sīrat al-khulafāʾ wa-l-mulūk wa-l-salāṭīn, éd. ʿU. ʿA. al-S. al-Tadmurī, Beyrouth 1999. Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, Masālik al-abṣār fī mamālik al-amṣār, vol. 4, éd. Ḥ.A. ʿAbbās, Abou Dhabi 2002. Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, al-Taʿrīf bi-l-musṭalaḥ al-sharīf, éd. M.Ḥ. Shams al-Dīn, Beyrouth 1988. Ibn Fahd, ʿU., Itḥāf al-warā bi-akhbār Umm al-Qurā, éd. F.M. Shaltūt et al., 5 vol., La Mecque 1990. Ibn Fahd, ʿA. al-ʿA., Ghayāt al-marām bi-akhbār salṭanat al-Balad al-Ḥarām, éd. F.M. Shaltūt, 3 vol., Jedda 1986–9. Ibn al-Furāt, Tārīkh al-duwal wa-l-mulūk, éd. Q. Zurayq et N. ʿIzz al-Dīn, vol. VII–IX, Beyrouth 1936–42. Ibn Ḥajar, al-Durar al-kāmina fī aʿyān al-miʾa al-thāmina, 4 vol., Hyderabad 1966. Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr fī abnāʾ al-ʿumr, éd. Ḥ. Ḥabashī, 4 vol., Le Caire 1969–72.

562

chapoutot-remadi

Ibn Ḥijja, Das Rauschgetränk der Stilkunst oder Qahwat al-inšāʾ von Taqīyuddīn Abū Bakr. b. ʿAlī Ibn Ḥiǧǧa al-Ḥamawī al-Azrārī, ed. R. Veselý, Beirut and Berlin 2005. Ibn ʿIdhārī, al-Bayān al-mughrib fī akhbār al-Andalus wa-l-Maghrib, qism al-Muwaḥḥidīn, éd. M.I. al-Kattānī et al., 4 vols., Beyrouth 1985. Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr fī waqāʾiʿ al-duhūr, éd. M. Muṣṭafā, 6 vols., Le Caire 1960–75. Ibn Khaldūn, Kitāb al-ʿIbar wa-dīwān al-mubtadaʾ wa-l-khabar fī ayyām al-ʿArab wa-lʿAjam wa-l-Barbar wa-man ʿāṣarahum min dhawī l-sulṭān al-akbar, 7 vols., Beyrouth 1968; trad. A. Cheddadi, Le Livre des Exemples, Paris 2002. Ibn Khaldūn, al-Muqaddima, voir al-ʿIbar, vol. 7; trad. A. Cheddadi, Paris 2002. Ibn Khaldūn, al-Riḥla, voir al-Muqaddima, vol. 7; trad. A. Cheddadi, Paris 2002. Ibn Nāẓir al-Jaysh, Tathqīf al-Taʿrīf bi-l-muṣṭalaḥ al-sharīf, éd. R. Veselý, Cairo 1987. Ibn Qāḍī Shuhba, al-Tārīkh, éd. ʿA. Darwīsh, 4 vol., Damas 1977–97. Ibn Qunfudh, al-Fārisiyya fī mabādī l-dawla al-ḥafṣiyya, éd. M.Sh. al-Nayfar and ʿA. alM. Turkī, Tunis 1968. Ibn al-Ṣayrafī, Nuzhat al-nufūs wa-l-abdān fī tawārīkh ahl al-zamān, éd. Ḥ. Ḥabashī, 4 vol., Le Caire 1974–94. Ibn Shaddād, Tārīkh al-Malik al-Ẓāhir, éd. A. Ḥuṭaiṭ, Beyrouth 1983. Ibn Shammāʿ, al-Adilla al-bayyina al-nurāniyya fī mafākhir al-dawla al-ḥafṣiyya, éd. alT. b. M. al-Maʿmūrī, Tunis 1984. Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Manhal al-ṣāfī wa-l-mustawfī fī baʿd al-Wāfī, 13 vol., Le Caire 1984– 2009. Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Nujūm al-zāhira fī mulūk Miṣr wa-l-Qāhira, 16 vol., Le Caire 1929– 72. Ibn Wāṣil, Mufarrij al-kurūb fi akhbār Banī Ayyūb, éd. J. al-D. al-Shayyāl et al., 4 vol., Le Caire 1953–72; éd. ʿU.ʿA. al-S. Tadmurī, vol. 6, Sidon et Beyrouth 2004. al-Khazrajī, al-ʿUqūd al-luʾluʾiyya fī taʾrīkh al-dawla al-rasūliyya, éd. M. Basyūnī ʿAsal, 2 vol., Le Caire 1911. al-Kutubī, Fawāt al-wafayāt, éd. I. ʿAbbās, 5 vol., Beyrouth 1973. al-Maqqarī, Nafḥ al-ṭīb min ghusn al-Andalus al-raṭīb, éd. I. ʿAbbās, 10 vols., Beyrouth 1968. al-Maqrīzī, Durar al-ʿuqūd al-farīda fī tarājim al-aʿyān al-mufīda, éd. M. al-Jalīlī, 4 vol., Beyrouth 2002. al-Maqrīzī, al-Muqaffā l-kabīr, éd. M. Yaʿlāwī, 8 vol., Beyrouth 1991. al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk li-maʿrifat duwal al-mulūk, éd. M.M. Ziyāda et S.ʿA. al-F. ʿĀshūr, 4 vol., Le Caire 1934–73. al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab fī funūn al-adab, 33 vol., Le Caire 1923–93. al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā fī ṣināʿat al-inshāʾ, éd. M.ʿA. al-R. Ibrāhīm, 14 vol., Le Caire 1913–9, 21963. al-Ṣafadī, Aʿyān al-ʿaṣr wa-aʿwān al-naṣr, éd. ʿA. Abū Zayd et al., 6 vol., Beyrouth et Damas 1997–8.

entre ifrīqiya hafside et égypte mamelouke

563

al-Ṣafadī, al-Wāfī bi-l-wafayāt, éd. H. Ritter et al., 30 vol., Beyrouth et Wiesbaden 1931– 2010. al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim fī ṣināʿat al-kātib wa-l-kātim, al-maʿrūf bi-l-Maqṣid alrafīʿ al-munshaʾ al-hādī li-dīwān al-inshāʾ lil-Khālidī, éd. A.M. Anas, 2 vol., Le Caire 2009. al-Sakhāwī, al-Ḍawʾ al-lāmiʿ li-ahl al-qarn al-tāsiʿ, 12 vols., Le Caire 1934–6. al-Sakhāwī, al-Dhayl al-tāmm ʿalā Duwal al-Islām lil-Dhahabī, éd. Ḥ.I. Muruwwa, 3 vol., Koweit et Beyrouth 1992–7. al-Tijānī, al-Riḥla, éd. Ḥ.Ḥ. ʿAbd al-Wahhāb, Tunis 1958. al-Tujībī al-Sabtī, Mustafād al-riḥla wa-l-ightirāb, éd. ʿA. al-Ḥ. Manṣūr, Tunis 1975. al-Wansharīsī, al-Miʿyār al-mughrib wa-l-jāmiʿ al-muʿrib ʿan fatāwā Ifrīqiya wa-l-Andalus wa-l-Maghrib, 13 vol., Rabat 1981–3. al-Yaʿqūbī, [Kitāb al-Buldān] Specimen e literis orientalibus, exhibens Kiẗābo’ l-Boldān, sive Librum regionum, éd. T.G.J. Juynboll, Leiden 1861. al-Yūnīnī, Dhayl Mirʾāt al-zamān, 4 vol., Hyderabad 1954–61. al-Ẓāhirī, Nayl al-amal fī dhayl al-duwal, éd. ʿU.ʿA. al-S. Tadmurī, 9 vol., Sidon et Beyrouth 2002. al-Zarkashī, Tārīkh al-dawlatayn al-muwaḥḥidiyya wa-l-ḥafṣiyya, éd. M. Qirmān et M.Ṣ. al-ʿAsalī, Tunis 1998.

Références al-Aoudi-Adouni, R., Stèles funéraires tunisoises de l’époque ḥafṣide, 2 vol., Tunis 1997. al-Bakhīt, M.ʿA., Risāla min al-Sulṭān Bayāzīd al-Thānī ilā ʿAbd al-Muʾmin ibn Ibrāhīm ibn ʿUmar wa-ʿUthmān al-Ḥafṣī, in al-Majalla al-Tārīkhiyya al-Maghribiyya 10–1 (1978), 69–77. al-Baqlī, M.Q., Fahāris Kitāb Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā fī ṣināʿat al-inshāʾ, Le Caire 1970. al-Bāshā, Ḥ., al-Alqāb al-islāmiyya fī l-tārīkh wa-l-wathāʾiq, Le Caire 1989. Bauden, F., Les Relations diplomatiques entre les sultans mamelouks circassiens et les autres pouvoirs du Dār al-islām. L’apport du manuscrit ms. arabe 4440, in AI 41 (2007), 1–29. Bauden, F., Mamlūk era documentary studies: The state of the art, in MSR 9/1 (2005), 15–60. Bauden, F., The recovery of Mamlūk chancery documents in an unsuspected place, dans M. Winter et A. Levanoni (ed.), The Mamluks in Egyptian Syrian politics and society, Leiden 2004, 59–76. Bianquis, Th., Les Pouvoirs de l’espace ismaïlien, in J.-Cl. Garcin et al., États, Sociétés et Cultures du Monde musulman médiéval Xe–XVe siècle, Paris, 1995, i, 81–117. Brack, Y., A Mongol princess making ḥajj : The biography of el Qutlugh daughter of Abagha Ilkhan (r. 1265–1282), in JRAS 21/3 (2011), 331–59. Broadbridge, A.F., Diplomatic conventions in the Mamluk sultanate, in AI 41 (2007), 97–118.

564

chapoutot-remadi

Broadbridge, A.F., Kingship and ideology and Mongols worlds, Cambridge 2008. Brunschvig, R., La Berbérie orientale sous les Ḥafṣides, 2 vol., Paris 1940–7. Burési, P., L’Empire almohade, le Maghreb et l’Andalus (1130–1269), in F. Hurlet (éd.), Les Empires. Antiquité et Moyen Âge. Analyse comparée, Rennes 2008, 221–37. Canard, M., Les Relations entre les Mérinides et les Mamlouks au XIVe siècle, in AIÉOA (1939–41), 41–8. Colin, G.S., Contribution à l’étude des relations diplomatiques entre les musulmans d’Occident et l’Égypte au XVe siècle, in Mélanges Maspero, vol. 3: Orient islamique, Cairo 1935–40, 197–206. Daoulatli, A., Les Relations entre le sultan Qala’un et l’Ifriqiya d’après deux documents égyptiens (680 Hg./1281 J.-C.–689 Hg./1290 J.-C.), in REMMM 17 (1974), 43–62. Darrag, A., L’Égypte sous le règne de Barsbāy, 825–841/1422–1438, Damas 1961. Eddé, A.-M., Saladin, Paris 2008. Fénina, A., Sur une monnaie d’or hafside dénommée ʿushariyat al-sarf (monnaie à dix de change): monnaie de compte ou monnaie réelle, in Antiquités Africaines 38 (2002), 395–403. Gaudefroy-Demombynes, M., Une lettre de Saladin au calife almohade, in Mélanges René Basset, Études nord-africaines et orientales, Paris 1923–5, ii, 279–304. Lagardère, V., Histoire et société en Occident musulman au moyen âge: Analyse du Miʿyār d’al-Wansharīsī, Madrid 1995. Melville, C., The year of the elephant, Mamlūk-Mongol rivalry in the Hedjaz in the reign of Abū Saʿīd (1313–1335), in SI 21/2 (1992), 197–214. Miquel, A., La Géographie, in R. Rashed (éd.), Histoire des sciences arabes. Technologie, alchimie et sciences de la vie, Paris 2003, 64. Mortel, R.T., Zaydi Shiism and the Hasanid Sharifs of Mecca, in IJMES 19 (1987), 465–72. Picard, Ch. et al., Recours à l’écrit et validation du document entre Orient et Occident, in L’Autorité de l’écrit au Moyen Âge (Orient-Occident): XXXIXe Congrès de la SHMESP (Le Caire, 30 avril–5 mai 2008), Paris 2009, 189–210. Richards, D.S., Mamlūk administrative documents from St Catherine’s Monastery, Leuven and Paris 2011. Saadaoui, A., Inscription de fondation d’une mosquée hafside de Moknine (Tunisie), in IBLA: Revue de l’Institut des Belles-Lettres Arabes 62 (1999), 3–14. Shatzmiller, M., “Waqf K̲ h̲ayrī” in fourteenth-century Fez: legal, social and economic aspects, in Anaquel de Estudios Árabes 2 (1991), 193–217. Thiry, J., Le Sahara libyen dans l’Afrique du Nord médiévale, Leuven 1995. Valérian, D., Bougie, port maghrébin, 1067–1510, Rome 2006. Vallet, É., Du système mercantile à l’ordre diplomatique: le bassin de la mer Rouge en Égypte mamlûke et Yémen rasûlide, in Les Relations diplomatiques au Moyen Âge: formes et enjeux. XLIe Congrès de la SHMESP (Lyon, 3–6 juin 2010), Paris 2011, 269– 301.

entre ifrīqiya hafside et égypte mamelouke

565

Veinstein, G., Histoire turque et ottomane. Les serviteurs des lieux saints. Cours donnés au Collège de France, résumé sur le web. Vermeulen, U., Timurlang en Syrie. La correspondance entre le sultan mamelouk Faraǧ et le mérinide Abū Saʿīd, in Egypt and Syria in the Fatimid, Ayyubid and Mamluk eras, proceedings of the 4th and the 5th colloquium organized by the Katolieke Universiteit Leuven in May 1995 and 1996, Daniel de Smet et U. Vermeulen (ed.), Leuven 1998, 303–11. Wiet, G., L’Égypte arabe, de la conquête arabe à la conquête ottomane, 642–1517 de l’ère chrétienne, vol. 4, Paris 1937.

chapter 16

Tracking Down the Hafsid Diplomatic Missions All the Way to the Turco-Mamluk Borders (892–6/1487–91) Lotfi Ben Miled

1

Introduction1

Hafsid diplomats are rarely mentioned in the space of the Islamic Mediterranean Orient in the second half of the ninth/fifteenth century; however, for three centuries this space, occupied by the Mamluks and the Ottomans, was a privileged field for some ambassadors (Ifrīqiyans) within the framework of the Hafsido-Mamluk relations.2 The ninth/fifteenth century witnessed major transformations, among them the acceleration of Western commercial hegemony. At the time of these upheavals Hafsid diplomacy continued to play an important role in defending Hafsid economic interests, especially in the second half of the century.3 The rise of the ‘Grand Turk’ to power in Constantinople after the fall of Byzantium caused, inter alia, the disruption of trade networks and adversely affected Western and Hafsid interests. As a consequence, diplomacy was invigorated. The Ottoman push toward the borders of Mamluk Syria, at the beginning of the 880s/1480s was the result of ongoing quarrels between the Ottomans and the Mamluks.4 The imbalance between the powers had long been apparent, and the inability of the Mamluks to overcome the Ottomans pushed the Mamluk sultan to request Hafsid mediation, and this has raised some questions for historians. Was the image of Sultan Abū ʿAmr ʿUthmān (r. 839–93/1435–88) in the Muslim world positive, like that of his predecessor Abū Fāris (r. 796–837/1394– 1 I would like to thank Ms. Nelly Amry (University of La Manouba, Tunis) and M. Dominique Valérian (University of Lyon, France) for proofreading this research paper and for their invaluable comments. 2 On the Hafsido-Mamluk relationships, see also Ibn Mīlād, Ifrīqiya wa-l-mashriq 93–107; Ben Miled, Les Relations; Brunschwig, Taʾrīkh Ifrīqiya 236–91; Chapoutot-Remadi, Les Relations; Colin, Contribution; Daoulatli, Les Relations; and Chapoutot-Remadi’s article in this volume. 3 See also Valérian, Les Agents. 4 See also Ivanov, al-Fatḥ al-ʿuthmānī 69; Nāfiʿ, al-ʿAlāqāt; Ṭaqqūsh, Taʾrīkh al-Mamālīk 485; Yüksel Muslu, The Ottomans 192–214.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2019 | doi:10.1163/9789004384637_017

tracking down the hafsid diplomatic missions

567

1434)?5 With the exception of the two ambassadors who were mentioned on their return from Constantinople, the sources do not mention anything about the diplomatic relations and exchanges of embassies with the Islamic Mediterranean Orient.6 Our work is to study the reality of the diplomatic missions and the mission of the two or three Hafsid ambassadors who tried to end the war between the two rivals in the Muslim Orient. The scarcity and ambiguity of the sources and the absence of crucial information mean that we cannot pursue the conditions, paths, and results of Hafsid diplomacy in the 880s–890s/1480s.

2

An Assassinated Ambassador, a First Unfinished Mission: al-Qalshānī

In a little-known biography mentioned by al-Sakhāwī (d. 902/1497), a great Egyptian chronicler and biographer, a Hafsid ambassador is introduced as follows: Ḥusayn b. ʿUmar al-Qalshānī, brother of Ḥasan and Muḥammad, died, after being assassinated by the Firanj and before he had completed his sixty years, on 12 Shawwāl 891 [11 October 1486]. Having carried two letters sent from Tunis, one to the sultan of Rūm [the Ottoman sultan] and the other addressed to the Mamluk sultan, and containing a call for peace, the Firanj killed him after his arrival.7 This information mentioned by al-Sakhāwī leads us to wonder when the request for Hafsid mediation took place, and what were the circumstances around the assassination of the Hafsid ambassador in the month of Shawwāl 891/October 1486. This mediation began, in fact, after the first Mamluk victory in 891/1486. Indeed, we must return to the time of the attack against the Ottomans in Adana and Tarsus and the capture of their leader Aḥmad Hersek (Rabīʿ I 891/March 1486), then the attack two months later in Jumādā II/June of the same year. The Ottoman army normally had a tendency to seek revenge; however, Ibn Iyās, the chronicler of the last Mamluks, does not mention anything related to the 5 On the image of Abū Fāris in the Orient see Ibn Mīlād, Ifrīqiya wa-l-mashriq 126–7; Amri, Magistère scientifique 196. 6 Brunschwig, Taʾrīkh Ifrīqiya i, 292; Doumerc, Venise 574; Jehel, L’Italie 99. 7 Al-Sakhāwī, al-Ḍawʾ al-lāmiʿ iii, 153.

568

ben miled

events of the two following months (Rajab and Ramaḍān). This makes it difficult to understand the reality of Mamluk military preparations, but we can see evidence of a Mamluk counterattack which can only be explained by an Ottoman attack that is not mentioned. Moreover, the Mamluk sultan Qāytbāy (r. 872–901/1468–96) tried to build an anti-Ottoman Turkmen alliance between Yaʿqūb b. Uzun Ḥasan (r. 883–96/1478–90), the chief of the Aq Qoyunlu, and Cem, the Ottoman prince who was given refuge by the Knight Hospitallers of Rhodes. Yaʿqūb b. Uzun Ḥasan refused to interfere in the conflict triggered in Cilicia, and Cem was still being held by the chief of the Knight Hospitallers.8 It is in the context of this diplomatic failure of the Mamluk ruler that we can locate the request of the first Hafsid mediation, about which we know only what al-Sakhāwī tells us in the biography; the latter mentions only a few words on the course and the mission of the Hafsid ambassador. Though we do not know his name, we do know that he was the descendant of a family of Andalusian origin who had served as chief judge (qāḍī l-jamāʿa) from Hafsid times.9 His brother Muḥammad, being the last known judge of this family, died in 890/1485. This leads us to believe that our ambassador was probably his successor at this post for the remainder of his life (almost a year), though we cannot confirm this. In addition, we find almost nothing in the sources about the conditions for a possible second Mamluk request to the Hafsid sultan for mediation with the Ottoman sultan. However, al-Ṣaghīr b. Yūsuf,10 a late Tunisian chronicler of the twelfth/eighteenth century, says that the Mamluks appropriately chose the Hafsid sultan Abū ʿAmr ʿUthmān among other rulers for this role because of his image and his good reputation in the Muslim world. But since nothing in the contemporary sources of the period proves that embassies were exchanged between the Hafsids and the Mamluks in the second half of the ninth/third quarter of the fifteenth century, we can only say that an embassy might have mediated between Cairo and Istanbul.11 While the Hafsid sultan was not recognized by the Mamluks as the prince of believers or “caliph,” he took the opportunity to play the role of the “Caliph of the Muslims” and agreed to begin the mediation process by sending two letters: one to the Mamluk sultan and the

8 9 10 11

Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iii, 226. On the Qalshānīs, see al-Wazīr al-Sarrāj, al-Ḥulal al-sundusiyya i, 634, 651, 672. Also on the origin of the family of the qāḍīs (Qalshānī), see Ḥasan, al-Madīna 722. Al-Ṣaghīr, al-Takmīl al-mushfī. About this book and its author see al-Mustaghānimī, alTakmīl wa-l-Mudhayyal 71–4. Al-Ṣaghīr, al-Takmīl al-mushfī, fol. 145.

tracking down the hafsid diplomatic missions

569

second to the mutamallik bilād al-Rūm (possessor of the land of the Byzantines),12 a title given by the Mamluk sources to the Ottoman sultan. Unfortunately, we do not know anything about the contents of these two letters, though we can presume, given the overall context, that they dealt with the call for peace. Worse still, the ambassador never completed his mission as he was murdered by pirates known as Firanj (Franks), a term that was never well defined in Arab-Muslim sources, that dates back to the first Arab geographers (probably from the third/ninth century) to refer to the people of medieval Europe under the Carolingian Empire. The term firanj continued to be used in a general and even ambiguous way despite the political changes that affected western Europe during the last centuries of the Middle Ages.13 In fact, a letter of protest sent by the Ottomans to Venice accused the Venetians of murdering the Hafsid ambassador when he stopped off in their port. The same document did not mention the reasons of this act, which was obviously related to the TurcoVenetian conflicts, but in it, the Ottomans insisted that they receive a compensation.14 The route of the Hafsid ambassador, therefore, involved traveling first to Istanbul, then passing through Cairo to forward the Ottoman message to the Mamluks, then returning to Tunis. The ambassador’s travels therefore meant crossing the various protagonists. In fact, nothing happened as envisaged. The question that arises here is whether the Hafsid ambassador was murdered, and if so, how did al-Sakhāwī know about the mission? Or, perhaps the killing of the ambassador did not stop the Hafsid mediation, rather it continued under different circumstances.15

3

Did Abū ʿAmr ʿUthmān Send a Second Ambassador?

In this framework, one late source, the chronicle of al-Ṣaghīr b. Yūsuf, which is available in manuscript form at the National Library of Tunis,16 provides more detailed information on a second Hafsid embassy, though the informa12 13 14

15

16

Ibn Taghrī Birdī, Ḥawādith al-duhūr ii, 341. See also Ben Miled, L’ Image de l’ Occident chrétien; Ben Miled, Représentations; DajaniShakeel, Images of the Franks 44–5; Lewis, Ifrand̲ j ̲ 1044. We warmly thank Atef Salim, a PhD student at the University of Sousse, for sharing with us the contents of the letter preserved in the Venetian archives (ASVe, Miscellanea atti diplomatici e privati, busta 45, no. 1324, liber graecus cc. 55–8). In this context, it is worth mentioning that two recent studies investigating the Ottoman sources do not provide definite proofs: Yüksel Muslu, The Ottomans 192–214 (on the basis of ʿĀşıḳ Pāşā-Zāde); El Mnari, Remarques. Furthermore, the latter mixed up dates and names. Al-Ṣaghīr, al-Takmīl al-mushfī, fol. 145.

570

ben miled

tion is somewhat ambiguous. In fact, we know nothing of the departure date or the name of the ambassador; it seems that the assassination of the first envoy did not prevent the Hafsid sultan from sending another envoy in the hope of achieving the main aim of the Hafsid mediation, that is to say, stopping the fratricidal war. We will, therefore, try to follow the route and the destiny of this mission. 3.1 The Letter and Its Contents: Praise of the Ottomans In the usual correspondence between Muslim rulers, the first reference was always dedicated to Quranic passages and prophetic ḥadīths that call, here, for peace and the religious interdict against fratricidal wars. In the case of this letter, we note the Hafsid’s recognition of the new conquerors of Islam: the letter presented, in effect, a eulogy of Turkish victories over the Christians of eastern Europe and elsewhere (Hungarians, Slavs, Poles), who are mentioned in the letter as kuffār (infidels). In this letter, the Hafsids recognize the role of bārūd (gunpowder) in Turkish supremacy and also explain their victories as the result of God’s help in their holy war. They recognize that the Ottomans became the heirs to the land of the Christians and to their homes and fortunes. This praise of the ‘Grand Turk’ was presented by the Hafsid envoy in order to ensure the success of the mediation.17 3.2 The Priority of the “Andalusian” Question Among the pretexts given by the Hafsid sultan for his mission to establish peace between the two belligerents, we note especially the call to recruit the Ottoman military in the supreme goal of saving Andalusian cities.18 This raises some problems. First, we know that Qāytbāy welcomed an ambassador from the amir of Granada in 892/1487; his message focused primarily on a request for Mamluk military aid.19 At the time Egypt was not well placed to assist. Another ambassador, Muḥammad b. ʿAlī l-Azraq, was sent to Tunis in the same year, just after the fall of Malaga. The ambassador was unable to reach his goal since the Hafsid sultan, Abū ʿAmr ʿUthmān, had died in Ramaḍān 893/September 1488.20 A last Granadan attempt had been sent to Constantinople with an eloquent message containing a moving poem, designed to arouse the pity of the Ottoman sultan Bāyazīd II (r. 886–918/1481–1512). It would seem that the psychological effect 17 18 19 20

Ibid. Ibid. Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iii, 244. Al-Sakhāwī, al-Ḍawʾ al-lāmiʿ ix, 20–1 and Boloix Gallardo’s article in this volume.

tracking down the hafsid diplomatic missions

571

was real though we cannot affirm that the purpose of the expeditions, guided by Kemal Reis in the western Mediterranean, was to save the Andalusian principality.21 In any case, the die was cast. In what context was the request for help written? How could the Hafsid sultan know the number of stricken Muslim cities of Andalusia (between forty and fifty cities)22 if he was not informed by a man close to the events? What was of interest to the Sultan Abū ʿAmr ʿUthmān? Did he take advantage of these requests from Granada and the Mamluks and use them to present himself as a defender of Muslim lands? We think that the Andalusian question was only one invaluable pretext to push the Ottoman sultan to stop the advance of his armies against the Mamluks; this would be evidence that the details mentioned in the letter from the Hafsid sultan were actually a result of the presence of the ambassador of Granada in Tunis. So, the matter of the second mission of mediation was delayed until ʿAbd al-Muʾmin ascended the throne. 3.3 Delayed but Positive Answer According to the same text, the Hafsid envoys were received by the Ottoman vizier; the latter passed the message to Sultan Bāyazīd II, who was anxious because the Ottoman army was preparing for revenge. Indeed, the army chiefs, according to our sole source, refused peace and asked for revenge. Our source suggests that Bāyazīd appeased them with administrative and military promotions. Then, they were promoted to the posts of pashas of the principalities.23 3.4 The Return of the Hafsid Envoy On his return, the Hafsid envoy (who remains unknown to us) was accompanied, according to our source, by a “great gift” from the Ottoman sultan, a gift whose volume was double that of the Hafsid gift; and he and his companions were well protected aboard Ottoman kalyata warships24 such that there was no further risk of being attacked, as the first ambassador had been. Al-Ṣaghīr b. Yūsuf states that the Hafsid envoy arrived in Tunis in good condition and a ceremony was held to receive him.25

21 22 23 24 25

Temimi, Le Gouvernement ottoman 24. Al-Ṣaghīr, al-Takmīl al-mushfī, fol. 145. Ibid. 146. A galleon, a type of warship used by the Ottomans between the ninth/fifteenth and eleventh/seventeenth centuries, and an important element of the Ottoman navy. Al-Ṣaghīr, al-Takmīl al-mushfī, fol. 146.

572

ben miled

We are grateful to him for this report on the embassy, but we doubt its relevance because the text mentions that the peace agreement stipulated the handover of three cities conquered by the Mamluks, i.e., Tarsus, Adana, and Gülek. This treaty can thus be dated from the year 896/1491. On the other hand, the issue discussed with the Ottoman sultan Bāyazīd II could not have been known by Abū ʿAmr ʿUthmān since the Andalusian ambassador could not have met him (due to the death of the sovereign, as we noted above). We believe that a second embassy could only have been set up under the reign of ʿAbd al-Muʾmin (r. 28 Rajab 894 to Dhū l-Qaʿda 895/13 June 1489 to October 1490), whose messenger was Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad al-Ḥalfāwī.

4

Al-Ḥalfāwī, the Envoy of ʿAbd al-Mūʾmin, and the Establishment of Peace (896/1491)

4.1 An Ottoman Letter and Its Context In the first days of Rajab 896/July 1491 a letter was sent by Bāyazīd II to ʿAbd al-Muʾmin.26 This letter poses problems because it was mainly sent to offer condolences for the death of the Hafsid sultan Abū ʿAmr ʿUthmān (893/1488) and congratulations to ʿAbd al-Muʾmin on his ascent to the Hafsid throne.27 Clearly this letter was written after the enthronement of ʿAbd al-Muʾmin. We note that there was a great delay in the arrival of the news at the Ottoman palace: it took a year before ʿAbd al-Muʾmin could send a new envoy, who was called Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad al-Ḥalfāwī and was a judge of matrimonial matters (qāḍī l-ankiḥa). This embassy was the continuation of the “Hafsid mediation mission,” on which we seek details in the letter and elsewhere. Fortunately, a biographical text tells us of the agreement between the Ottomans and the Mamluks (896/1491), and it mentions al-Ḥalfāwī and his route. The Hafsid ambassador is presented by this eastern biographer as follows: Sīdī Muḥammad al-Ḥalfāwī, who died in Damascus on Thursday 21 Ramaḍān 896 [28 July 1491], was the envoy of the sultan of the Occident (algharb) and the qāḍī of Tunis, from where he had left with the aim of concluding peace with our sultan Qāytbāy. Then he proceeded to the lands of Turks (bilād al-Rūm) where the sultan received him well and welcomed his discourse for peace.28 26 27 28

Al-Bakhīt, Risāla. Ibid. 69. Ibn al-Ḥimṣī, Ḥawādith al-zamān i, 226.

tracking down the hafsid diplomatic missions

573

The first route of al-Ḥalfāwī was as follows: Cairo, Istanbul, and Damascus. We must return to the letter to understand the details of this mission. First, we can see that al-Ḥalfāwī was a special envoy sent from ʿAbd al-Muʾmin; he introduced himself by saying: “your worthy envoy Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad al-Ḥalfāwī.” Since the letter was written on the first of the month of Rajab 896/10 May 1491, it must have come from the Hafsid sultan’s chancellor in a particular context: that of the inability of the Mamluks vis-à-vis the Ottoman attacks. In fact, the events on the battlefield enable us to better understand the course of the events on the Turco-Mamluk borders, and we find that it is Qāytbāy, unable to hold off a third Ottoman attack and facing the capture of Tarsus and Ayas, who sought diplomatic help out of this impasse from the Hafsids. Several factors prevented the Mamluk sultan from facing the Ottomans, including the economic crisis and the insurgency of the julbān (Mamluk novices). These factors compelled him to make a first attempt to make peace (Jumādā II 894/May 1489), that is to say, almost a year before the arrival of the julbān. In our opinion, al-Ḥalfāwī was sent in this specific context, which mainly related to the events unfolding in the East: this would give a more global dimension to this second Hafsid mediation.29 4.2 The Conditions of a “Diplomatic” Success To explain the success of this Hafsid embassy, we can cite the conditions already mentioned, according to al-Ṣaghīr b. Yūsuf,30 such as the promotions given by the Ottoman sultan to pashas of the Turkish armies, and the conditions involved in stopping the advance of the Ottomans to the borders of Mamluk Syria. In addition, real dangers emerged on the borders of Slavic Europe after the death of the Hungarian king Mathias Corvinos—who died heirless— in 896/1491, and the death of the Polish king; this came in addition to the great earthquake that shook the Ottoman capital on 22 Shaʿbān 895/11 July 1490 and delayed Ottoman military preparations. All this seems to have helped the Ottomans to accept the Hafsid envoy in Istanbul and to support his mediation mission in favor of peace with the Mamluks. 4.3 A Successful Mission According to Ibn Iyās the full success of the Hafsid ambassador’s mission required that Sultan Bāyazīd II send an envoy accompanied by a man called

29 30

Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iii, 276. Nāfiʿ, al-ʿAlāqāt 144.

574

ben miled

Māmāy al-Khāṣṣakī to Egypt in Rajab 896/May–June 1491; his mission would be to return the keys of fortresses conquered by the Ottomans.31 But it seems that the Hafsid envoy al-Ḥalfāwī never returned to Tunis or that ʿAbd al-Muʾmin, the Hafsid sultan, was assassinated before he could receive him. In any case, we find al-Ḥalfāwī in Damascus32 where he spent a month before he died there on 21 Ramaḍān 896/28 July 1491.33 The Hafsid’s route, hidden by contemporary Mamluk sources, raises the issue of the secret nature of this “Hafsid” mission. There may have been multiple reasons, such as the conflicts and competition (open or hidden) between Muslim rulers and, most importantly, in our opinion, the issue of the “image” of the Mamluk sultan: he did not want to show, overtly, that he supported the Hafsids (and their legitimacy) while he officially recognized the Abbasid caliphate.

5

Conclusion

Two envoys who were judges, two influential letters, and a high quality Hafsid mediation requested by the Mamluks of Egypt to stop an Ottoman attack for revenge, all prove that negotiations with the sultans of the eastern Mediterranean were not the prerogative of businessmen only34 but were also based on the competence of judges. Hafsid diplomacy benefited from a gradual weakening of its “traditional” rival, the Mamluk sultanate, as this enabled the Hafsids to play an important role in the conclusion of a peace treaty between the Ottomans and the Mamluks (896/1491). But their missions only brought a temporary halt to the Ottoman advance on Mamluk lands and it did not prevent the Ottomans from continuing their hegemony, not only at the expense of the Mamluks and various Christian forces in the eastern Mediterranean, but also to the detriment of the Muslim Occident, which became, in the tenth/sixteenth century, a privileged land of conflict between the Ottomans and the Spaniards. Therefore, the Hafsid diplomatic missions which succeeded, at the request of the Mamluks, in concluding peace in the mid-890s/early 1490s in the eastern Muslim Mediterranean renewed hope in the possibility of alliances between traditional forces (Hafsids, Ifrīqiya; Mamluks, Egypt; and Venice).

31 32 33 34

Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iii, 281. Ibn al-Ḥimṣī, Ḥawādith al-zamān i, 226. Ibid. Coulon, Négocier avec les sultans 503.

tracking down the hafsid diplomatic missions

575

The sultans of Tunis were keen to prevent the Ottomans, a rising Muslim power, from overthrowing the Mamluks and to maintain a state between Ifrīqiya and the Ottoman territories. It was therefore in their interest to promote peace between the two Oriental Muslim powers to avoid an Ottoman conquest of Ifrīqiya. It is in the first decade of the tenth/sixteenth century that we notice that the Hafsid sultan Muḥammad V (r. 899–932/1494–1526) sent an ambassador named Ghrībī to the Mamluk sultan Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī (r. 906–22/1501–16). This rare piece of information, cited by the Tunisian chronicler Ibn Abī Dīnār and not quoted by other Mamluk or Ottoman sources, states that among the wonderful gifts sent to mark the occasion was a giraffe.35 This epoch witnessed the interruption of the commercial line Muda del Trafego (914/1509), the Spanish occupation of Bougie in the same year, and the glorious offensive of Kemal Reis. All these changes accelerated the disappearance of the old states of the late Middle Ages and the transition to a new era in the tenth/sixteenth century.36

Bibliography Primary Sources (Handwritten) al-Ṣaghīr (al-Ṣughayyar), al-Takmīl al-mushfī lil-ghalīl ʿalā Kitāb al-ʿIbar li-ʿAbd al-Raḥmān Ibn Khaldūn MS 5264, Bibliothèque nationale de Tunis.

Primary Sources (Printed) Ibn Abī Dīnār, al-Muʾnis fī akhbār Ifrīqiya wa-Tūnis, Tunis n.d. Ibn al-Ḥimṣī, Ḥawādith al-zamān wa-wafayāt al-shuyūkh wa-l-aqrān, ed. ʿU.ʿA. al-S. Tadmurī, 3 vols., Beirut 1999. Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr fī waqāʾiʿ al-duhūr, ed. M. Muṣṭafā, 6 vols., Cairo 1960–75. Ibn Taghrī Birdī, Ḥawādith al-duhūr fī madā l-ayyām wa-l-shuhūr, ed. M.K. al-D. ʿIzz alDīn, 2 vols., Beirut 1990. al-Sakhāwī, al-Ḍawʾ al-lāmiʿ li-ahl al-qarn al-tāsiʿ, 12 vols., Cairo 1934–6.

35

36

On the relations between countries of the Islamic West and the Ottomans in the premodern period, see also our article: Taṭawwur al-ʿalāqa bayna l-gharb al-islāmī wa-l-salṭana al-ʿuthmāniyya (1453–1557), in W. Kawtharānī, Arabs and Ottomans from Marj Dābiq to Sykes-Picot, Proceedings of the Fourth Historical Seminar of the Research Institute of Doha (Beirut, 23–6 April 2017), Beirut. On this diplomatic mobility, see mainly Doumerc, Les Relations 154; Wansbrough, A Mamlūk ambassador 503.

576

ben miled

al-Wazīr al-Sarrāj, al-Ḥulal al-sundusiyya fī l-akhbār al-tūnisiyya, ed. M. al-Ḥ. al-Hīla, 3 vols., Beirut 1984.

Secondary Sources Amri, N., Magistère scientifique, ascèse et patronage rural: les figures du saint homme à Kairouan du VIIe/XIIIe au IXe/XVe siècle d’après le Dictionnaire biographique d’Ibn Nājī, in Amri and D. Gril (eds.), Saint et sainteté dans le christianisme et l’islam: le regard des sciences de l’homme, Paris 2007, 167–230. al-Bakhīt, M.ʿA., Risāla min al-Sulṭān Bayāzīd al-Thānī ilā ʿAbd al-Muʾmin b. Ibrāhīm b. ʿUmar wa-ʿUthmān al-Ḥafṣī, in al-Majalla al-Tārīkhiyya al-Maghribiyya 10–1 (1978), 69–77. Ben Miled, L., Les Relations entre Ifriqiya et l’Orient islamo-méditerranéen (1052– 1509), in Arab Historical Review for Ottoman Studies 40 (2009), 23–38. Ben Miled, L., L’Image de l’Occident chrétien à travers les sources hafsides (629–982/ 1230–1574), MA thesis, University of Tunis 2000. Ben Miled, L., Représentations hafsides des Croisés, in IBLA: Revue de l’Institut des Belles-Lettres Arabes 195 (2005), 43–51. Brunschwig, R., Taʾrīkh Ifrīqiya fī l-ʿahd al-ḥafṣī min al-qarn 13m ilā nihāyat al-qarn 15m [La Berbérie orientale sous les Ḥafṣides], trans. Ḥ. al-Sāḥilī, Beirut 1987. Chapoutot-Remadi, M., Les Relations entre l’Égypte et l’Ifriqiya aux XIIIe et XIVe siècles d’après les autres [sic] Mamlûks, in Actes du premier congrès d’histoire et de la Civilisation du Maghreb, Tunis 1979, i, 139–59. Colin, G.S., Contribution à l’étude des relations diplomatiques entre les musulmans d’Occident et l’Égypte au XVe siècle, in Mélanges Maspero, vol. 3: Orient islamique, Cairo 1935–40, 197–206. Coulon, D., Négocier avec les sultans de la Méditerranée orientale à la fin du Moyen Âge: Un domaine privilégié pour les hommes d’affaires?, in M.T. Ferrer Mallol et al. (eds.), Negociar en la Edad Media. Négocier au Moyen Âge. Actes du colloque tenu à Barcelone du 14 au 16 octobre 2004, Barcelona 2005, 503–26. Dajani-Shakeel, H., Images of the Franks in medieval Arabic writings, in Hamdard Islamicus 8/3 (1985), 43–65. Daoulatli, A., Les Relations entre le sultan Qala’un et l’Ifriqiya d’après deux documents égyptiens (680 Hg./1281 J.-C.–689 Hg./1290 J.-C.), in REMMM 17 (1974), 43–62. Doumerc, B., Les Relations diplomatiques entre Venise et les Émirs hafsides de Tunis (1506–1525), in Les Cahiers de Tunisie 169–70 (1995), 151–61. Doumerc, B., Venise et la dynastie hafside à la fin du XVe siècle, in Les Cahiers de Tunisie 29 (1981), 573–80. El Mnari, M., Remarques sur l’ambassade hafside d’Abu Amr Osman et de Molla Arab d’après les sources ottomanes, in İstanbul Araştırmaları Yıllığı/Annual of İstanbul Studies 6 (2017), 19–25.

tracking down the hafsid diplomatic missions

577

Ḥasan, M., al-Madīna wa-l-bādiya bi-Ifrīqiya fī l-ʿaṣr al-ḥafṣī, 2 vols., Tunis 1999. Ibn Mīlād, L., Ifrīqiya wa-l-mashriq al-mutawassiṭ min al-qarn 5H./11M. ilā maṭlaʿ al-qarn 10H./16M., Tunis 2011. Ivanov, N., al-Fatḥ al-ʿuthmānī lil-aqṭār al-ʿarabiyya, 1516–1574, trans. Y. ʿAṭāʾ Allāh, Beirut 2004. Jehel, G., L’Italie et le Maghreb au Moyen Âge: conflits et échanges du VIIIe au XVe siècle, Paris 2001. Lewis, B., Ifrand̲ j,̲ in EI2, iii, 1044–6. al-Mustaghānimī, M.F., al-Takmīl wa-l-Mudhayyal: ʿunwānān ākharān lil-Ṣaghīr b. Yūsuf wa-nāfidhatān jadīdatān ʿalā l-muʾarrikh, in A. Henia (ed.), Itinéraire d’un historien et d’une historiographie: Mélanges de Diraset offerts à Mohamed-Hédi Chérif, Tunis 2008, 71–94. Nāfiʿ, Gh.A., al-ʿAlāqāt al-ʿuthmāniyya al-mamlūkiyya (868–923H./1464–1517M.), Beirut and Sidon 2005. Ṭaqqūsh, M.S., Taʾrīkh al-Mamālīk fī Miṣr wa-bilād al-Shām, Beirut 1999. Temimi, A., Le Gouvernement ottoman et le problème morisque, Zaghouan 1989. Valérian, D., Les Agents de la diplomatie des souverains maghrébins avec le monde chrétien (XIIe–XVe siècle), in AEM 38/2 (2008), 885–900. Wansbrough, J., A Mamlūk ambassador to Venice in 913/1507, in BSOAS 26 (1963), 509– 30. Yüksel Muslu, C., The Ottomans and the Mamluks: Imperial diplomacy and warfare in the Islamic world, London and New York 2014.

part 5 Arabia, India, and Africa

∵

chapter 17

Diplomatic Networks of Rasulid Yemen in Egypt (Seventh/Thirteenth to Early Ninth/Fifteenth Centuries) Éric Vallet

1

Introduction: toward a History of Mamluk-Rasulid Diplomacy

The history of Yemen in the Late Middle Ages still largely escapes the horizon of Mamluk studies.1 There are a number of reasons for this relative lack of interest in this part of the Arabian Peninsula, including the long isolation of the country, the specific character of its territory and society, the complexity of its long historical path, and the division of the land between multiple powers. However, between 626/1229 and 858/1454, Yemen experienced a period of real stability under the authority of a single dynasty of Turkmen origin, the Rasulids or Banū Rasūl, whose regime was also, in its way, heir to the Ayyubid dynasty.2 The sultanate of Yemen constituted a major Muslim power with which the Mamluks were in close contact over a long period, mostly through diplomacy. But unlike other diplomatic exchanges presented in this volume, dealing with Turco-Mongol powers or with other Mediterranean states, the MamlukRasulid relationship has attracted even less attention since the exact status of the Rasulid dynasty toward the Mamluks seemed obscure and ambiguous in the eyes of many historians. Was Yemen an integral part of the Mamluk Empire as proclaimed in the diploma of appointment awarded to Baybars by the newly proclaimed caliph of Cairo in 659/1261?3 Was it a vassal or client state?4 Or did the Rasulid dynasty enjoy complete independence? The Egyptian claims on Yemen had deep historical roots. The area, centered around the Red Sea basin, was undoubtedly familiar to the inhabitants of the Mamluk Empire. From the last quarter of the sixth/twelfth century, regions bordering this sea had expe-

1 I would like to thank Martyn Back for the linguistic revision of this paper. 2 Smith, Politische Geschichte; ʿAbd al-ʿĀl, Banū rasūl. On Rasulid sources, Vallet, L’Arabie marchande 24–32 and 49–111. 3 Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk i/2, 454. 4 For such a presentation, see for example Darrag, L’ Égypte 4–5; Labib, Handelsgeschichte 89; or, more recently, Makariou, Les arts de l’ Islam 493–5.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2019 | doi:10.1163/9789004384637_018

582

vallet

rienced the domination of the same Ayyubid dynasty. This political unity had greatly contributed to strengthening the economic, religious, and human ties between Egypt, Syria, and western Arabia, through the major ports of ʿAydhāb, Jedda, and Aden.5 These links lasted long after the independence of the Rasulid sultanate, but in this case, close ties did not mean submission. Before founding the Rasulid dynasty, ʿUmar b. ʿAlī b. Rasūl, later known under the royal name of al-Malik al-Manṣūr ʿUmar (r. 626–47/1229–50), had been one of the leading amirs of the last Ayyubid master of Yemen, al-Malik al-Masʿūd. He claimed to have received a full delegation of power over southern Arabia from that ruler, who died suddenly in Mecca in 626/1229. To assert this continuity, al-Manṣūr ʿUmar also married the wife of the last Ayyubid ruler of Yemen—as Aybak had to do some twenty years later with Shajar alDurr—and he did not hesitate to continue striking coins on behalf of the Ayyubids of Egypt during the first years of his new rule.6 However, from 632/1235 on, al-Manṣūr ʿUmar threw off this distant suzerainty by receiving a diploma of appointment from the Abbasid caliph of Baghdad, one which fully recognized his sovereignty. This caliphal recognition soon became a major source of legitimacy for the new power. Fifteen years later, his son and heir al-Muẓaffar Yūsuf (r. 647–94/1250–95) quickly asked the last Abbasid caliph of Baghdad, al-Mustaʿṣim bi-llāh, for the same investiture.7 Beyond this legal recognition, the first Rasulid sultans also tried to establish a buffer zone to protect Yemen from any attack coming from the north. The shortlived control of Mecca by al-Manṣūr ʿUmar between 639/1242 and 646/1248 paved the way for an active policy in the Hijaz. The Rasulid influence continued over the next two centuries in a permanent state of rivalry with the Mamluk sultanate.8 The Yemen sultanate also controlled the Red Sea after 638/1240, when Rasulid vessels destroyed the last remnants of the Ayyubid fleet in this area. This Rasulid naval hegemony lasted until the early 820s/1420s.9 More broadly, the port of Aden assured the Rasulids a position of strength throughout the western Indian Ocean and allowed them to assert themselves as indispensable intermediaries in the exchanges between Egypt, India, and East Africa.10 The new Mamluk regime, even under the strong rule of Baybars (658–76/1260–

5 6 7 8 9 10

Garcin, Un centre musulman 127–38. Smith, The Ayyubids; Porter, The Rasulid sultan. Al-Khazrajī, al-ʿUqūd al-luʾluʾiyya (ed. ʿAsal) i, 96. On al-Muẓaffar’s reign, Varisco, Texts and pretexts. Vallet, L’ Arabie marchande 456–63. Ibid. 486–8. On this event, al-Janadī, al-Sulūk ii, 541. Vallet, Du système mercantile 269–71.

diplomatic networks of rasulid yemen in egypt

583

77), did not change this balance of power established in the Red Sea between 626/1229 and 647/1250. Despite occasional proclamations of Mamluk power, available data leaves no room for doubt: the Rasulid sultanate continuously acted as an independent and sovereign power in its relations with the masters of Egypt and Syria, from the first embassies in the 660s/1260s until the last attested mission of a Mamluk envoy in Yemen in 829/1426. There is thus indeed a Mamluk-Rasulid diplomatic history, dominated by the principle of competition (for the control of the Red Sea and the holy places), but also of alliance (especially against the crusaders and Mongol infidels), sometimes referred to in written texts by the word ṣuḥba, companionship.11 All this led to the establishment of a genuine “diplomatic order” in the Red Sea that lasted for nearly two centuries.12 How could two neighboring sovereign powers of unequal size and importance maintain stable relationships over such a long time? The principle of permanent embassies did not exist in the Middle Ages.13 The exchange of embassies, limited in time, according to rituals that differed little from those discussed extensively elsewhere in this volume, was the most visible form of these relations. We will not linger over this aspect, having already had the opportunity to publish elsewhere a comprehensive study of these embassies, with translations of the different narratives about them.14 But the relations between the two sultanates of Yemen and Syria-Egypt were not only limited to this formal aspect. In addition to the ambassadors, many other players were involved in the perpetuation of the Mamluk-Rasulid “diplomatic order.” Far from being simply sent to establish contact with the Mamluk sultan, the emissaries of the Rasulid sultans who came to Cairo actually participated in larger networks that included soldiers, officials or merchants, present more or less permanently in Egypt and Syria, and they interacted with the rest of Mamluk society, especially with amirs. We would like to lay broader emphasis on some economic aspects of this diplomatic process. Economic aspects are usually not too far removed from diplomacy, although this issue is often forgotten in favor of a purely political, rhetorical, or ceremonial description of diplomatic exchange.

11 12 13 14

Ibn ʿAbd al-Majīd, Bahjat al-zaman 235. Vallet, Du système mercantile. For a recent survey of medieval diplomacy in the Late Middle Ages, see Péquignot, Les diplomaties occidentales. Vallet, Du système mercantile 269–301.

584 2

vallet

Sources

The issue of sources needs to be raised, since documents directly arising from these Mamluk-Rasulid diplomatic exchanges are very scarce. The original letters sent by the Rasulids are not recorded in the Yemeni sources known at this date, neither in chronicles nor in inshāʾ collections. A small treatise of epistolary art, entitled al-Burd al-muwashshā fī ṣināʿat al-inshāʾ, is the only tenuous evidence of the correspondence of the sultans of Yemen. This short book was authored by Mūsā b. al-Ḥasan al-Mawṣilī (d. 699/1300), an official who was trained in the Egyptian chancery then entered the service of Sultan al-Muẓaffar Yūsuf as head of the Rasulid chancery. It presents linguistic considerations on what we may call “epistolary etiquette.” But of the original letters written by alMawṣilī, none has been found to date.15 Another short document, preserved in a later copy dating from the second half of the eighth/fourteenth century, also may be attributed to al-Mawṣilī or to his circle.16 Occupying the front of a single folio, this diplomatic formulary is divided into two main parts, the first showing how leading figures of Yemen should be addressed in official correspondence and the second showing how the sultan had to write to other rulers ( faṣl almulūk). The whole document is strikingly similar to the recommendations in the Burd al-muwashshā of al-Mawṣilī and therefore offers a fascinating insight into the diplomatic horizon of the Rasulids, but given the different kingdoms recorded in the document we know that it covers a period that goes no further than the second half of the seventh/thirteenth century. What remains of the Mamluk-Rasulid correspondence mainly comes from the literature written in the Cairo chancery, which includes full or partial versions of thirteen letters sent by Mamluk sultans to Rasulid sultans and three letters sent by the latter to the former (tables 17.1 and 17.2).17 In addition to these documents produced by the diplomatic exchange itself, most of the historical evidence is preserved in chronicles and biographical dictionaries produced in Yemen, Egypt, and Syria, from the late seventh/thirteenth century to the middle of the ninth/fifteenth century. Between 661/1263 and 829/1426, thirty-five exchanges of Mamluk-Rasulid embassies are attested by one or more sources, sometimes in a contradictory way. They can be grouped

15 16 17

Al-Mawṣilī, al-Burd al-muwashshā; Vallet, Mūsā b. al-Ḥasan al-Mawṣilī. Al-Afḍal al-ʿAbbās, The manuscript 390. For a more detailed analysis, Vallet, Mūsā b. alḤasan al-Mawṣilī 138–9. The letter sent by the Abbasid caliph of Cairo to the Rasulid sultan al-Muʾayyad Dāwūd in 707/1307–8 might be added to this list (text in al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā vi, 422–5). On this letter, see Vermeulen, Une lettre du calife.

585

diplomatic networks of rasulid yemen in egypt table 17.1 Letters sent by Mamluk sultans to Rasulid sultans kept fully or partially Date

From

To

Main subject

Sources

[658/1260]

al-Muẓaffar Quṭuz

al-Muẓaffar Yūsufa

al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ alaʿshā vii, 360–1.

[669/1271]

al-Ẓāhir Bay- al-Muẓaffar barsb Yūsuf

Rajab 680/ Oct. 1281

al-Manṣūr Qalāwūn

al-Muẓaffar Yūsuf

end of 680/ beginning of 1282 [688/1289]

al-Manṣūr Qalāwūn

al-Muẓaffar Yūsuf

Announcement of the Mamluk victory against the Mongols at ʿAyn Jālūt Announcement of the Mamluk victory against the Mongols at Ṣāfītā Announcement of the Mamluk victory against the Mongols at Homs Amān of the Mamluk sultan granted to the sultan of Yemen

al-Manṣūr Qalāwūn

al-Muẓaffar Yūsuf

[688/1289]

al-Ashraf Khalīl al-Nāṣir Muḥammad

al-Muẓaffar Yūsuf al-Muʾayyad Dāwūd

al-Nāṣir Muḥammad al-Nāṣir Muḥammad

al-Mujāhid ʿAlī al-Mujāhid ʿAlī

al-Muʾayyad Shaykh al-Muʾayyad Shaykh al-Ẓāhir Ṭaṭar

al-Nāṣir Aḥmad al-Nāṣir Aḥmad al-Nāṣir Aḥmad

Announcement of al-Muʾayyad Shaykh’s advent Answer to letter received the same year Announcement of al-Ẓāhir Tatar’s advent

al-Ashraf Barsbāy

al-Nāṣir Aḥmad

Good reception of a Rasulid embassy

[715/1315]

730/1330 730/1330

[815/1412] 819/1416 [824/1421]

[827/1424]

Qalāwūn thanks al-Muẓaffar for the letter of condolence received on the death of alMalik al-Ṣāliḥc Announcement of the Mamluk victory at Tripoli (full version) Announcement of the Mamluk campaign in Armenia (full version) Good reception of a Rasulid embassy (unsent letter) Assassination of the sultan of Delhi’s envoy condemned (full version)

al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ alaʿshā vii, 353–5. Ibn al-Furāt, Taʾrīkh vii, 223–4. BnF, MS Ar. 4440, 65a, in Bauden, Les Relations 18. al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ alaʿshā vii, 355–7.

al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ alaʿshā vii, 366–70. al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ alaʿshā vii, 344–52. al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ alaʿshā vii, 362–5. Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, al-Taʿrīf 48–9, copied by al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ alaʿshā vii, 372–3. Ibn Ḥijja, Das Rauschgetränk 63–6. Ibn Ḥijja, Das Rauschgetränk 167–71. BnF, MS Ar. 4440, 49b– 50a, in Bauden, Les Relations 16; Ibn Ḥijja, Das Rauschgetränk 346–7. Ibn Ḥijja, Das Rauschgetränk 411–2.

a Al-Qalqashandī says that this letter was sent to the Rasulid sultan al-Manṣūr ʿUmar, which is a clear mistake. b Al-Qalqashandī says that this letter was written by al-Manṣūr Qalāwūn without any date. The capture of Ṣāfīṭā, the subject of this letter, nevertheless took place under the reign of Baybars in 669/1270–1 (cf. Holt, Early Mamluk diplomacy 12). c On this event, see Northrup From slave to sultan 143.

586

vallet

table 17.2 Letters sent by Rasulid sultans to Mamluk sultans kept fully or partially Date

From

To

798/1395–6

al-Ashraf Ismāʿīl I

819/1416

al-Nāṣir Aḥmad al-Nāṣir Aḥmad

al-Ẓāhir Bar- Return of the embassy led by qūq the merchant Burhān al-Dīn al-Maḥallī al-Muʾayyad Complaint against the sharif of Shaykh Mecca Ḥasan b. ʿAjlān al-Muʾayyad Another complaint against the Shaykh sharif of Mecca

821/1418

Main subject

Sources al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ alaʿshā viii, 72–6. Ibn Ḥijja, Das Rauschgetränk 162–6. al-Fāsī, al-ʿIqd al-thamīn iv, 132–3, copied by Ibn Fahd, Itḥāf al-warā iii, 558–9.

into two main phases, separated by a major interruption between 730/1330 and 752/1353, when diplomatic exchanges were completely cut off. This number only partially reflects reality: according to several authors of the beginning of the eighth/fourteenth century, the exchange of delegations had become an ordinary, if not a routine phenomenon from the second half of the seventh/thirteenth century; this explains why some of them were not mentioned in the sources.18

3

Identity of the Rasulid Envoys to Egypt

Few studies have focused on the systematic analysis of the origin and rank of those who were sent on embassies from Cairo to other realms throughout the Mamluk period. As indicated by al-Ḥasan b. ʿAbdallāh b. Muḥammad alʿAbbāsī in the early eighth/fourteenth century, these delegations might consist of amirs, men of religion, or civil officials.19 However, it seems that the common Mamluk practice was to send an amir as head of the embassies, which is not surprising given the nature of the Mamluk regime. A list of the envoys sent to the sultan of Yemen, established according to the remaining sources, confirms this arrangement. With one exception, delegations from Cairo were led by an amir, sometimes but not always accompanied by a civilian.20

18 19 20

Ibn ʿAbd al-Majīd, Bahjat al-zaman 235. Al-ʿAbbāsī, Āthār al-uwal 191–2, quoted by Broadbridge, Kingship and ideology 22. Ibn ʿAbd al-Zāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir 290; al-Yūnīnī, Dhayl ii, 374; Ibn Ḥātim, al-Simṭ alghālī ii, 377; Ibn al-Furāt, Taʾrīkh vii, 234, 258; Ibn ʿAbd al-Majīd, Bahjat al-zaman 225–7, abridged by al-Khazrajī, al-ʿUqūd al-luʾluʾiyya (ed. ʿAsal) i, 289; Baybars al-Manṣūrī, al-Tuḥfa al-mulūkiyya 383, abridged by al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk ii/1, 20–1; ibid. ii/1, 7, iv/1, 395, 479, iv/2,

587

diplomatic networks of rasulid yemen in egypt

Embassies sent to Cairo from Rasulid Yemen have a different profile. Quite a few names of Rasulid envoys were kept in chronicles and biographical dictionaries. Of thirty-five embassies recorded in the sources, only fourteen quote ambassadors’ names and titles. The sources generally speak of “envoys from the master of Yemen” (rusul ṣāḥib al-Yaman, or rarely sufarāʾ, sing. safīr).21 When their names do appear, however, it is quite easy to identify their status, which falls into three categories: amirs, civil officials (vizier, superintendent of the sultan’s private properties, superintendent of the port of Aden) and royal eunuchs (ṭawāshī), sometimes associated with the same embassy, sometimes alone (table 17.3). table 17.3 Rasulid envoys in Cairo N°22

Dates

Names

Position

Sources

II

666/ 1268 680/ 1281

Two envoys, including a certain Ibn alMākisānī – Majd al-Dīn b. Abī l-Qāsim – Tāj al-Dīn and Muḥyī l-Dīn Ibn alBaylaqānī

Unknown

Ibn ʿAbd al-Zāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir 290. Baybars al-Manṣūrī, al-Tuḥfa al-mulūkiyya 103; al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk i/3, 702–3.

VIII

705/ 1305

– Asad al-Dīn Muḥammad b. Būz

XI

715/ 1315

– Badr al-Dīn Ḥasan b. Abī l- Munajjā – Jamāl al-Dīn Fīrūz

XII

718/ 1318

– Badr al-Dīn Ḥasan b. al-Asad “and those who used to go with him in order to serve him”

XV

725–6/ 1325–6

– Qāḍī Jamāl al-Dīn Muḥammad b. Muʾmin

V

21 22

Amir Civil official (superintendant of Aden) Amir

Amir Eunuch (ṭawāshī) Amir

Civil official

Ibn ʿAbd al-Majīd, Bahjat al-zaman 235, copied in alKhazrajī, al-ʿUqūd al-luʾluʾiyya (ed. ʿAsal) i, 298, corrected in ibid. (ed. al-Ḥibshī) i, 417 al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk ii/1, 145– 6. Ibn ʿAbd al-Majīd, Bahjat al-zaman 281, copied in alKhazrajī, al-ʿUqūd al-luʾluʾiyya (ed. ʿAsal) i, 348. al-Khazrajī, al-ʿUqūd alluʾluʾiyya (ed. ʿAsal) ii, 40, 45.

715; al-Khazrajī, al-ʿUqūd al-luʾluʾiyya (ed. ʿAsal) i, 307–8; Ibn Ḥajar, al-Durar al-kāmina iii, 333 (no. 891). Cf. Vallet, Du système mercantile: embassies II, V, XI, XII, XIII, XVI, XVII, XXI (rusul) and IV, VI, X (rasūl), XX, XXIII (sufarāʾ), XXI (safīr). These numbers refer to the embassies recorded in Vallet, Du système mercantile 281–301.

588

vallet

Table 17.3 Rasulid envoys in Cairo (cont.) N°

Dates

Names

Position

Sources

XVII

753–4/ 1352–3

Civil official (vizier) Amir Eunuch

al-Khazrajī, al-ʿUqūd alluʾluʾiyya (ed. ʿAsal) ii, 82–3.

XVIII

755/ 1354 750s/ 1350s

– Qāḍī Fatḥ al-Dīn ʿUmar b. Muḥammad b. al-Khuṭabāʾ – Shams al-Dīn ʿAlī b. Ḥātim – Niẓām al-Dīn Khuḍayr, replaced after his death by Abū l-Durr Jawhar al-Mujāhidī l-Riḍwānī Abū l-Durr Jawhar al-Mujāhidī lRiḍwānī Abū l-ʿAbbās Aḥmad b. ʿAlī b. Qabīb

Eunuch

al-Afḍal al-ʿAbbās, al-ʿAṭāyā l-saniyya 290–1 (no. 218). al-Afḍal al-ʿAbbās, al-ʿAṭāyā l-saniyya 259 (no. 179).

XIX

XX

XXI

762/ 1361

– Ṣārim al-Dīn Najīb – Qāḍī Jamāl al-Dīn Muḥammad b. ʿUmar al-Sharīf – Qāḍī Jamāl al-Dīn Muḥammad b. ʿAlī l-Fāriqī – Shams al-Dīn ʿAlī b. Ḥātim 767–70/ – Qāḍī Jamāl al-Dīn Muḥammad b. ʿAlī 1365–8 l-Fāriqī – Nāṣir al-Dīn

XXIII

774–8/ 1373–6

– Qāḍī Jamāl al-Dīn Muḥammad b. ʿAlī l-Fāriqī – Nāṣir al-Dīn Muḥammad al-Bahāʾ – Iftikhār al-Dīn Yāqūt al-Qudsī – Qāḍī Burhān al-Dīn al-Maḥallī

XXVII

798/ 1396

XXXIII

819–20/ – Qāḍī Amīn al-Dīn Mufliḥ 1416–7

Civil official (nāẓir al-khāṣṣ) Eunuch Civil official

al-Afḍal al-ʿAbbās, al-ʿAṭāyā l-saniyya 658 (no. 916).

Civil official Amir Civil official (vizier) Amir Civil official (vizier) Amir Eunuch Merchant of the sultan Civil official

al-Khazrajī, al-ʿUqūd alluʾluʾiyya (ed. ʿAsal) ii, 117; al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iii/1, 123– 7. Anonymous, Taʾrīkh 74, 76.

Anonymous, Taʾrīkh 128; Ibn al-Furāt, Taʾrīkh al-duwal ix/2, 458–9. al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iv/1, 345; Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr vii, 207.

One difference between the profile of Rasulid envoys and that of Mamluk ambassadors deserves to be emphasized, namely the striking absence of religious dignitaries in the embassies sent from Yemen. The fact that some of the civil officials sent by the sultan of Yemen also bear the title of qāḍī in Rasulid or Mamluk sources should not mislead us: it does not refer to the Islamic judiciary, but to high-ranking officials working in the administration (dīwān), according to a custom that appeared in Egypt under the Fatimids and spread to Yemen at that time.23 These qāḍīs, i.e., senior officials, represent the over23

Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā vi, 23; al-Janadī, al-Sulūk ii, 172–3; Vallet, L’Arabie marchande 268.

diplomatic networks of rasulid yemen in egypt

589

whelming majority of the “turban-wearers” (mutaʿammimūn) sent on behalf of the Rasulids. All of them occupied important posts in the sultanate, as shown by the Rasulid sources, where most of the names quoted in table 17.3 appear in various capacities.24 Closer examination of this table, however, shows a significant change in the composition of embassies between the two main periods of the MamlukRasulid diplomacy. During the first phase, which took place until 730/1330, amirs played a paramount role, as in the Mamluk embassies. From the year 750/1350, the leading role was regularly accorded to civil officials and royal eunuchs (ṭawāshī). These court slaves of Abyssinian origin dealt with various civilian and military functions in the entourage of the sultan and had a special relationship with him: they often oversaw the administration of the royal palace, and the protection of the royal princesses living in the largest fortresses of the country.25 Abū l-Durr Jawhar al-Mujāhidī, better known under the name of al-Riḍwānī (d. 755/1354) is a good example of these great servants of the prince. Much of his career took place in the service of Jihat Ṣalāḥ, wife of the Sultan al-Muʾayyad Dāwūd (r. 696–721/1296–1321) and mother of the Sultan alMujāhid ʿAlī (r. 721–64/1321–63). This Rasulid woman played a key political role in the second quarter of the eighth/fourteenth century.26 The ṭawāshī then obtained the favor (shafqa) of al-Mujāhid himself who twice sent him to Cairo in the 750s/1350s. Al-Riḍwānī was also important in the landscape of the sultanate: he founded a mosque and a madrasa in the two main cities, Taiz and Aden, and settled for a time in Mecca, where he owned a home. “Jawhar was highly considered among the men of power (ahl al-riʾāsa)” said Sultan al-Afḍal al-ʿAbbās (r. 764–78/1363–77) in the biographical dictionary he devoted to illustrious figures of Yemen history.27 More than the quality of amirs, ṭawāshīs, or high-ranking officials, it is thus the proximity to the sovereign that seems, unsurprisingly, to be the main criterion governing the composition of diplomatic delegations. These envoys were, for the most part, at the personal service of the prince ( fī khidmat al-sulṭān). Because they were in charge of other prominent offices, their names are usually well known in the Rasulid sources and appear several times in chronicles 24

25 26 27

Vallet, L’ Arabie marchande 273 (Qāḍī Fatḥ al-Dīn ʿUmar b. Muḥammad b. al-Khuṭabāʾ), 348 and 518 (Qāḍī Jamāl al-Dīn Muḥammad b. Muʾmin), 518 (Abū l-ʿAbbās Aḥmad b. ʿAlī b. Qabīb), 518–9 (Qāḍī Jamāl al-Dīn Muḥammad b. ʿAlī l-Fāriqī), 642–3 (Qāḍī Amīn al-Dīn Mufliḥ), 710 (Ibn al-Baylaqānī). Ayalon, Eunuchs; Pellat, K̲ h̲aṣī 1087; Marmon, Eunuchs 42. Sadek, In the queen of Sheba’s footsteps 18–21. Al-Afḍal al-ʿAbbās, al-ʿAṭāyā l-saniyya 290–91; al-Khazrajī, al-ʿUqūd al-luʾluʾiyya (ed. ʿAsal) ii, 88.

590

vallet

and biographical dictionaries. There is nothing unusual here, because of the level of trust required for a diplomatic mission: an envoy, as representative of his master, was expected to demonstrate the latter’s grandeur and dignity, or to negotiate on his behalf. The ambassadors did not travel alone, but there are few clues to the identity and size of their entourage. Only in an embassy from the year 718/1318 are we able to learn that the delegation was composed of an amir, Badr al-Dīn Ḥasan b. al-Asad, and “those who used to go with him in order to serve him,”28 probably including domestic slaves and civil servants (secretaries), and perhaps also slave-soldiers, either mamlūks or ʿabīd (black slave-soldiers). The same may be true for other embassies. The travel arrangements for these embassies therefore implied significant expenditure and advanced logistics. The envoys (and the freemen accompanying them?) received a sum for their travel expenses (tasāfīr), depending on their rank within the mission, a moderate amount between 100 and 300 dinars.29 It is difficult to know what expenses this was supposed to cover. However, this information reminds us that embassies also had material and economic implications, which we must now address.

4

Embassies in the Service of the Sultan’s Supply

There could be no embassy without bulky presents; these included not only precious objects and refined products, but also wild animals, horses, and slaves, all of which were the responsibility of the ambassadors.30 The list of these commodities was drawn up at the beginning and end of the journey. In 705/1305, two “large ships” (markabayn kabīrayn) had to be chartered to transport the glittering cargo that accompanied the Rasulid amir Ibn Būz.31 Such statements are rarely found elsewhere in the chronicles, but the practice of hiring large ships for official missions is well documented in the archives of al-Muẓaffar Yūsuf. According to one of the documents copied on behalf of the Yemeni administration in this collection now known as Nūr al-maʿārif, “the chartering (kirāʾ) of a large vessel (al markab al-kabīr) to ʿAydhāb for emissaries (rusul)” was, in the second half of the seventh/thirteenth century, a practice fully referenced

28 29 30 31

Ibn ʿAbd al-Majīd, Bahjat al-zaman 281, abridged by al-Khazrajī, al-ʿUqūd al-luʾluʾiyya (ed. ʿAsal) i, 348. Anonymous, Nūr al-maʿārif i, 112 (from Taiz to Egypt), 73, 108. Compare with the embassy sent by the Delhi sultanate in Ibn Baṭṭūṭa, Tuḥfat al-nuẓẓār iv, 3–4. Ibn ʿAbd al-Majīd, Bahjat al-zaman 235.

diplomatic networks of rasulid yemen in egypt

591

by the Rasulid dīwān. The standard price of the transaction is even known: 500 dinars.32 The use of these large ships to transport ambassadors, their suite and their gifts, is also attested in the following century. In 796/1398, the sultan of Yemen also provided his ambassador Iftikhār al-Dīn Yāqūt, accompanied by the great merchant Burhān al-Dīn al-Maḥallī, with several round ships which belonged to the Rasulid dīwān, and exempted them from the payment of any freight charges.33 These large vessels must be distinguished from the dhows, boats of smaller capacity that made up the bulk of coastal traffic in the Red Sea. The vessels used by embassies were nevertheless of the same type as those used by merchants who traveled annually between ʿAydhāb and Aden during the season known as “Kārim.”34 These round vessels were able to carry large cargoes, and several dozen people on board. Diplomatic presents undoubtedly accounted for most of the freight, but other goods were also carried. The missions of the envoys were not, indeed, restricted to diplomatic activities in the strictest sense: ambassadors also undertook a number of practical tasks on behalf of the sovereign. To meet the “practical needs of the sultan” (ḥawāʾij al-sulṭān) was an important concern, as shown in the writings of the Sultan al-Ashraf Ismāʿīl I in his letter sent to al-Ẓāhir Barqūq in the year 796/1398, where the expression appears repeatedly.35 It expresses an important goal of the embassies, which were also intended to ensure the provisions required by the Rasulid sultan in the country where they were sent. It was therefore not uncommon for the ambassador to act as a recruiter in Cairo on behalf of his master. In Ibn Ḥajar al-ʿAsqalānī’s biographical dictionary, one may read, for example, that an amir called Bahādur al-Ṣaqrī, who tried to take power in Yemen during the civil war in the 720s/1320s, had been bought a few years before on the Cairo market as a mamlūk by “the envoy of the sovereign of Yemen” (qāṣid ṣāḥib al-Yaman). The Egyptian author adds that even the ephemeral Mamluk sultan Baybars al-Jāshnakīr (r. 708–9/1309–10) did not want to buy this slave-soldier for himself: sultans of Cairo and Yemen were thus supplied by the same Cairene market.36 Some sources also record the case of Rasulid ambassadors returning to Yemen with mamlūk soldiers, without saying whether they had been given by the sultan of Egypt or purchased by ambassadors or by any other merchants commissioned for that purpose.37 In 752/1352,

32 33 34 35 36 37

Anonymous, Nūr al-maʿārif i, 107. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā viii, 73. Vallet, L’ Arabie marchande 479–82. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā viii, 74. Ibn Ḥajar, al-Durar al-kāmina i, 499 (no. 1367). For example, in al-Khazrajī, al-ʿUqūd al-luʾluʾiyya (ed. ʿAsal) ii, 117.

592

vallet

when the sultan of Yemen, al-Mujāhid ʿAlī, returned from his Egyptian captivity, he “went with many mamlūks that he had purchased, as well as with many horses and camels.”38 He could not be better served than by himself! The proportion of mamlūks in the Rasulid army fluctuated widely from one period to another. However, the proportion of mamlūks in the Rasulid army fluctuated widely from one period to another, a fact that shows the absence of a permanent flow.39 Without necessarily exchanging money, ambassadors could also bring back with them free men, horsemen, scholars, and artisans, lured by the promise of generous payments that the master of Yemen was likely to grant them. “The rulers of Yemen are constantly attracting groups of artisans from Egypt and Syria (ṭawāʾif min arbāb al-ṣināʿāt) due to their scarcity in Yemen,” said the secretary and encyclopedist Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī shortly before the middle of the eighth/fourteenth century.40 A few decades later, silk workers from Alexandria traveled to Yemen with an embassy returning from Egypt in 788/1386.41 Moreover, the significant production of objects made in Mamluk style for the Rasulid sultans, known from the early works devoted to them by Max Van Berchem, was most likely the result of the activity of some Rasulid representatives in Cairo.42 These works included trays, ewers, and copper basins, enameled glass vases, and chandeliers: nearly fifty objects inscribed with the name of a Rasulid sultan or bearing the five-petaled rosette, the emblem of the dynasty, are considered by experts as having been made in Cairo, on the basis of material and textual evidence. Two of these royal objects bear the signature of craftsmen working in Cairo who were well-known elsewhere, ʿAlī b. Ḥusayn b. Muḥammad al-Mawṣilī (dated 674/1276) and Ḥusayn b. Aḥmad b. Ḥusayn al-Mawṣilī (dated 684/1285). This production is therefore related beyond doubt to Mamluk Cairo.43 The oft-formulated hypothesis that these objects were among the presents sent by Mamluk sultans to Rasulids cannot be supported due to the limited evidence in textual sources. These objects might just as easily have been ordered and brought back by Rasulid ambassadors themselves.

38 39 40 41 42 43

Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk ii/3, 839. A detailed study of the Rasulid army, which included not only mamlūks but also tribesmen, black slave-soldiers, Kurdish horsemen or ashrāf, has yet to be done. Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, al-Taʿrīf 156. Al-Khazrajī, al-ʿUqūd al-luʾluʾiyya (ed. ʿAsal) ii, 158. Van Berchem, Notes; Porter, Die Kunst. Porter, Die Kunst 225.

diplomatic networks of rasulid yemen in egypt

593

The length of some embassies, sometimes spanning several years, is thus more easily explained.44 As they settled for long periods in Cairo, the Rasulid ambassadors were even more likely to procure the best of what was in the Egyptian capital for their king.

5

Rasulid Embassies and Mercantile Networks in Egypt

Mercantile activities linked with the Rasulid embassies were not limited to these acquisitions. According to Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, a merchant (tājir) accompanied the Rasulid emissaries sent to Baybars in the year 666/1268. The trader was exempted from taxes on the spice bundles he had brought, since he was serving as a commercial representative of the mother of the Rasulid sultan. The amount of the sale was given to Baybars for the purpose of jihād: some was used to buy mangonels, some to pay for the release of war prisoners.45 Was this combination of diplomacy and trade also true of other embassies of the second half of the seventh/thirteenth and early eighth/fourteenth centuries? The evidence is lacking and we cannot say with certainty. But it is possible that the needs of the jihād against the Franks between the years 660/1260 and 690/1290 may have led to a custom, for each Rasulid embassy, of bringing commodities for sale in addition to official diplomatic gifts. According to the Yemeni scholar al-Janadī (d. 731/1331), during an unspecified period the sultan of Yemen al-Muẓaffar Yūsuf maintained a military force of 500 horsemen in Egypt “who fought the holy war against the Franks.” The author adds that “their pay was sent from Yemen with the presents brought to the kings of Egypt.”46 The active part played by these Rasulid troops in the Mamluk lands is incidentally confirmed by Marco Polo, when he says that the “soudan of Aden” (i.e., the Rasulid sultan) sent horsemen and camels that took part in the capture of Acre in 1291.47 Was this Yemeni support limited to the last campaign against the Franks, or did it exist long before, in the wake of the 666/1268 embassy? The possibility that a companionship (ṣuḥba) between the rulers of Yemen and Egypt was concluded under the banner of jihād from this early date suggests that Yemeni support was spread over the last decades of the seventh/thirteenth century. 44 45 46 47

For example, Vallet, Du système mercantile: embassies XXI (767–70/1365–8) and XXIII (774–8/1373–6). Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir,al-Rawḍ al-zāhir 290. On this event, Vallet, L’Arabie marchande 496; Vallet, Du système mercantile 275–7. Al-Janadī, al-Sulūk ii, 552. Polo, Le Devisement 205.

594

vallet

But was this financial support sent in cash or in the form of commercial products to be sold in Egypt, as in the 666/1268 embassy? Transferring funds in the form of commodities, processed thereafter into hard cash, was a common practice in the business circles of that time and this procedure was well known to the Rasulid administration.48 Some close links between the Rasulid state and great merchant families who were settled in Egypt, such as the Banū l-Kuwayk, were also well established at that time.49 There is, however, no clear evidence that such traders carried out transactions on behalf of the sultan of Yemen; but there is also nothing to discount this possibility. And when, in 707/1308, Amir Sallār began to prepare a military expedition against Yemen, a group of merchants interceded to make Sallār give up his plan, which went against their economic interests.50 The merchants of the Red Sea, also sometimes called Kārimīs, were, therefore, at the beginning of the eighth/fourteenth century, the most effective source of support for Rasulid power in Egypt. Yet this network was not totally controlled by the sultanate, rather their convergent interests explain this occasional support. If the existence of a mercantile network related to Yemeni embassies can only be suggested for the second half of the seventh/thirteenth century and the beginning of the eighth/fourteenth century, the situation was quite different in the second half of the eighth/fourteenth century, when Mamluk-Rasulid diplomacy experienced a revival after the brief detention, in Cairo in 751–2/1350–1, of the sultan of Yemen al-Mujāhid ʿAlī. The existence of a genuine Rasulid mercantile network in Egypt at that time is proved a posteriori in the letter sent by Sultan al-Ashraf Ismāʿīl I to Barqūq in 798/1396: His noble Highness al-Ẓāhir [Barqūq]—may the Almighty God strengthen his victories and increase his power—is asked to address his very noble command to his representatives (nuwwāb) in Miṣr, the well-fortified, in the thaghr of Alexandria and in the Shām, so that all our servants sent to Egypt, as well as merchants and others who claim to be related to us (intasaba ilaynā), whether traveling or settling, might be considered with care and respected; and, when carrying out their tasks, that they may take refuge in the shade of his magnanimity and enjoy his favor, as it was done previously for [our] holy father al-Malik al-Mujāhid—may God grant him His mercy. Moreover, we would like [to obtain something] 48 49 50

Anonymous, Nūr al-maʿārif i, 511. On the institution of sultan’s merchants in Yemen, Vallet, Du système mercantile 290–1. Vallet, L’ Arabie marchande 509–13. Ibn Ḥajar, al-Durar al-kāmina iii, 333 (no. 891).

diplomatic networks of rasulid yemen in egypt

595

more visible—God willing—since some deeds (khuṭūṭ) were issued by Sultan al-Nāṣir Ḥasan and by al-Malik al-Ṣāliḥ51 for our servants (khuddām) in the past, when they were sent to Alexandria and Damascus and since noble decrees (murabbaʿāt and mithālāt) were then written.52 The chronological framework of this extract leaves us in no doubt. Sultan alNāṣir Ḥasan reigned between 748/1347 and 762/1361, with a break of three years. This decade saw the spectacular revival of diplomatic exchanges between Rasulids and Mamluks, with the arrival of at least four embassies in Cairo.53 During these missions, emissaries from Yemen enjoyed the protection of the Mamluk sultan not only in Cairo but also in Alexandria and Damascus for tasks that are not specified here, but that may have related to official trade. Among the ambassadors from the decade beginning in 750/1350, at least two are known for their affiliation to great merchant families active in the Red Sea trade: Fatḥ al-Dīn ʿUmar b. Muḥammad b. al-Khuṭabāʾ, who became the vizier of Sultan al-Mujāhid, and Jamāl al-Dīn Muḥammad b. ʿAlī l-Fāriqī (table 17.3). The latter was also sent to Cairo by Sultan al-Afḍal al-ʿAbbās in 767– 8/1365–6 and in 774/1372. Muḥammad was still present in Cairo in the years 780/1380 when his brother Sharaf al-Dīn Ḥusayn b. ʿAlī l-Fāriqī was appointed head of customs in Aden and then vizier of the sultan of Yemen.54 The activity of Muḥammad al-Fāriqī, both mercantile and diplomatic, therefore extended over a period of twenty-five years, and there is little doubt that he was, with his representatives and agents (wakīl), a major beneficiary of Mamluk protection and of the related privileges mentioned in the letter quoted above. Although the extent of this Rasulid diplomatic and mercantile network in Egypt is hard to define, the story of the fall of Muḥammad al-Fāriqī casts some light on how it operated.55 In 786/1384, Muḥammad al-Fāriqī quarreled with another leading Cairene merchant, Zakī l-Dīn al-Kharrūbī, for reasons that remain obscure. The dispute was brought before Barqūq, which proves how close the two men were to the head of power in Cairo. In a dramatic gesture, alKharrūbī then read a letter he had received from the sultan of Yemen, al-Ashraf Ismāʿīl I, in which a missive written by al-Fāriqī itself was quoted. In his mes-

51 52 53 54 55

Maybe al-Ṣāliḥ Ḥājjī, son of Shaʿbān, who ruled in 783–4/1381–2. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā viii, 74–5. Vallet, Du système mercantile: embassies XVII (753–4/1352–3), XVIII (755/1354), XIX (between 757/1356 and 762/1361), XX (761/1362). Vallet, L’ Arabie marchande 518–9. Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr ii, 155–6. For a detailed analysis of this event, Vallet, L’Arabie marchande 521–2.

596

vallet

sage, Muḥammad al-Fāriqī encouraged the Rasulid not to send any embassy to Egypt because its sultan was, he said, “the lowest of the Mamluks and the vilest,” a clear allusion to the fragile legitimacy of Barqūq. Al-Fāriqī, as well as al-Kharrūbī, were thus in close contact with the sultan of Yemen, despite being mainly established in Cairo. Like al-Fāriqī, al-Kharrūbī was also conducting business on behalf of the Rasulid,56 though he was a rival of the main Rasulid network in the hands of al-Fāriqī. Moreover, al-Kharrūbī took advantage of the incident to secure recognition as “first merchant” of Egypt (kabīr al-tujjār), an acknowledged position that allowed him to be the main merchant of the Mamluk sultan himself. Ten years later, a letter written in 796/1398 by Barqūq to al-Ashraf Ismāʿīl I shows a fairly similar association: the important Egyptian merchant Burhān al-Dīn al-Maḥallī was, at the same time, Barqūq’s ambassador and “private merchant” (tājir al-khāṣṣ) and the leading merchant in Egypt. But al-Maḥallī was also commissioned by the Rasulid sultan to perform certain “tasks of supply” (ḥawāʾij), to be paid for by the sale of large quantities of spices and silk in Egypt.57 It is likely that the “business” conducted by Ibn al-Khuṭabāʾ, al-Fāriqī, or al-Kharrūbī in the previous decades on behalf of the Rasulid was of the same nature: spices and silk sent with embassies and sold in Cairo, Alexandria, or Damascus on behalf of the Banū Rasūl, and under the protection of the Mamluk sultan himself. These various clues give us a better understanding of the diplomatic and mercantile networks that developed in Egypt during the second half of the eighth/fourteenth century, and highlight three major characteristics: – These networks were run by major merchants, commissioned by the sultans of Yemen al-Mujāhid, al-Afḍal, and al-Ashraf to resell goods on their behalf; – These major merchants maintained close access to the inner circle of Mamluk power, and paved the way to the establishment of a state trade for spices that subsequently grew during the ninth/fifteenth century;58 – Though engaged primarily in mercantile activities, these major merchants also played an important diplomatic role, either formally through embassies or informally by acting as advisors. These mercantile networks were probably not active with the same intensity during the entire second half of the eighth/fourteenth century. It seems that the fall of al-Fāriqī and the Nāṣirī revolt against Barqūq in 791–2/1389–90 led to a partial interruption of these activities: in 798/1396, the letter from al-Ashraf 56 57 58

Al-Fāsī, al-ʿIqd al-thamīn i, 302. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā viii, 74. Apellaniz, Pouvoir et finance; Meloy, Imperial power.

diplomatic networks of rasulid yemen in egypt

597

Ismāʿīl clearly calls for a re-establishment of the lost networks. However, this Rasulid diplomatic renaissance was short-lived.

6

Rasulid Embassies and the Mamluk Elite

The establishment of these networks should therefore lead us to reconsider the influence of Rasulid embassies in Egypt. These embassies should not be seen only as opportunities for staging ritualized and solemn relations between two sovereigns, but also for deeper interaction between the emissaries, their contacts in Egypt, and the society around them. Precisely what sort of interactions they might have developed remains to be understood. Throughout their travels, the rusul were primarily in contact with the various spheres of Mamluk power, with the world of the amirs and, to a lesser degree, with some civil officials. Amirs were the first to be met when an embassy arrived in Egypt: although this is rarely mentioned in our sources, it was customary to send a small detachment of horsemen led by an amir to ensure the ambassadors’ safety.59 When ambassadors were welcomed at a royal audience, great amirs were at the forefront60 and then usually offered banquets to the guests.61 One can see the role of amirs when embassies arrived as a simple matter of protocol. Diplomatic exchange was, in the Islamic world of the Late Middle Ages, a particularly important way of asserting composite monarchical ideology. Diplomatic correspondence and ceremony converged on the figure of the sovereign, or more precisely on the endorsement of his legitimacy, authority, and rank in the “concert” of powers. But in the case of the Mamluks, did the diplomatic process only serve to develop monarchical power? What was the actual role of amirs, those key figures of the regime, in diplomacy? Our sources reveal that the Rasulids also tried to establish diplomatic exchanges with the main amirs of the Mamluk Empire. In the chancery formulary, probably composed in the second half of the seventh/thirteenth century by Mūsā b. al-Ḥasan al-Mawṣilī, great amirs of Egypt and Syria (ḥājib, nāʾib, raʾs al-nawba, governors of Damascus and Aleppo) are well recorded, in addition to the Mamluk sultan, as possible recipients of royal Rasulid letters.62 The for59 60 61 62

Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk ii/3, 886 (year 754/1353), iii/1, 187 (year 771/1370). For instance, Baybars al-Manṣūrī, al-Tuḥfa al-mulūkiyya 238 (year 711/1311). Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk ii/3, 893. Al-Afḍal al-ʿAbbās, The manuscript 390. The text says: ‫ وكذا‬.‫ أخوهم‬:‫ والعلامة‬.ّ ‫ المقر‬:‫أمراء مصر الكبار الحاجب والنائب ورأس النو بة وزميله يخاطبون‬ .‫صاحب دمشق وحلب و باقي الأمراء على قدر طبقاتهم‬

598

vallet

mulary recalls in great detail all the titles that can be used to address them according to their rank. This fact was confirmed a century later in the letter sent by al-Ashraf Ismāʿīl I to Barqūq in 798/1396; the letter clearly indicates that the two ambassadors were also carrying letters for “amirs.”63 Even if no letter of this kind was preserved in the Mamluk-Rasulid context, the practice seems to have been fairly common, even when the sultanic power strengthened in Egypt at the expense of the most powerful military chiefs, as under the reign of Barqūq. How should we understand the diplomatic importance of the amirs? Without any doubt, we must first go back to the way decisions were made in the framework of diplomatic exchange. If diplomacy was legally a royal prerogative, we know that its development was largely collective and involved many officials in the sovereign’s entourage. The ability of ambassadors to influence the sultan’s decisions in different ways and to obtain support for their views from Mamluk dignitaries was of great importance. Beyond this occasional activation of Mamluk networks and factions by ambassadors, it also appears that collectively the amirs had significant economic interests in this ritualized exchange between Rasulid Yemen and the Mamluk sultanate. Although we cannot confirm the participation of amirs in Rasulid mercantile networks, it appears that amirs were, in the eighth/fourteenth century at least, the primary beneficiaries of official presents sent by the Rasulid sultan through his embassies. The first mention of a Rasulid diplomatic gift shared between Mamluk amirs dates from 711/1312. At the reception in Cairo after the arrival of the envoys, “the greatest amirs, the chiefs of the army (muqaddamū l-ʿasākir), the servants of the state (khawāṣṣ al-dawla) and the elite of the kingdom (aʿyān al-mamlaka) gathered … Our master the Sultan [al-Nāṣir Muḥammad] shared these gifts.”64 This practice must, probably, be related to the active policy of income redistribution adopted by al-Nāṣir Muḥammad during his third reign, but it continued to play a pivotal role thereafter. From the 710s/1310s to the advent of Barqūq at the end of the eighth/fourteenth century, distributing gifts between “lower and higher amirs”65 became the central ritual of Mamluk-Rasulid diplomatic exchange, as shown by the description of the embassy of the year 754/1353, when this custom was restored after a break lasting two decades: On Saturday 11 Rabīʿ I [754/16 April 1353], the envoys of al-Mujāhid, master of Yemen, arrived [in Cairo] with his son al-Malik al-Nāṣir, aged 11. 63 64 65

Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā viii, 73. Baybars al-Manṣūrī, al-Tuḥfa al-mulūkiyya 238. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk ii/1, 107.

diplomatic networks of rasulid yemen in egypt

599

They descended on the Maydān and Amir Ṭāz came down in order to see the gift; then they appeared before the sultan with their gift, including 60 slaves surviving from a total of 300, 200 scarves (shāsh), 400 pieces (qiṭʿa) of porcelain, 150 bags of musk (nāfija), a civet horn (qarn) and many pieces of cloth (tafāṣil), 150 qinṭār of pepper, many products [from] ginger to amber, small spices (afāwih), and one elephant. One must add to this all the gifts offered to the amirs Shaykhū, Ṭāz, and Qubilāy, representatives of the sultan, and to the vizier ʿAlam al-Dīn b. Zunbūr. The royal gift was brought to Ṣāḥib Muwaffaq al-Dīn. Amirs were not satisfied with this because at the time of al-Malik al-Muʾayyad the [Rasulid] gift sent to al-Malik al-Nāṣir Muhammad b. Qalāwun included 2,000 scarves (shāsh). However, about 200,000 dirhams were spent on the envoys from their arrival in ʿAydhāb to the time they reached the Hippodrome. All were dressed in robes of honor and were granted 500 dirhams daily. All the amirs made a point of inviting them (ḍiyāfa).66 Yemen could be the source of large and comfortable incomes, provided to the amirs of Egypt and Syria by the sultan of this “blessed” country: this was the main idea conveyed by Mamluk-Rasulid diplomatic ceremonial practice in the eighth/fourteenth century. This idea was not a new one, since it had permeated the imagination of some, if not all, of the amirs since the late sixth/twelfth century, when Tūrānshāh, brother of Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn (Saladin), had said that he had come to Yemen for the sole purpose of “seizing the revenue of the city [of Aden].” For Tūrānshāh, as for the later amirs Sallār, Ṭāz, and many others, Yemen was above all a rich and prosperous prey. The diplomatic exchange with Yemen, because economic issues played a central role, could not then ignore the centrality of Mamluk amirs in the system of collection and redistribution of income in a large area of the Near East in the eighth/fourteenth century.

7

Conclusion

Qāḍī Mufliḥ al-Dīn al-Turkī, special envoy of the Yemen sultan al-Nāṣir Aḥmad (r. 803–27/1400–24), arrived in Cairo during 819/1416, four years after the advent of the Sultan al-Muʾayyad Shaykh, who promoted a sustained program of restoration for the Mamluk state. Mufliḥ al-Dīn’s visit was probably the last true Rasulid embassy in Cairo, or at least the last to be recorded in the sources.

66

Ibid. ii/3, 892–3.

600

vallet

Mufliḥ al-Dīn brought with him an opulent gift made of the most valuable products obtained from the Indian Ocean trade; this he presented to the sultan in a dramatic ceremony; he also gave alms throughout the city on numerous occasions and was received by the highest society in Cairo (or what was left of it), where his acts of piety caused quite a stir. He incurred so many expenses that he was finally forced to borrow large sums of money, al-Maqrīzī said. He returned to Yemen with merchants and a valuable present.67 With its combination of commercial activities, diplomatic representation, and social prestige, Mufliḥ al-Dīn’s mission seemed to continue the Rasulid-style embassies of the seventh/thirteenth and eighth/fourteenth centuries. For a century and a half, the preservation of good relations between the two states had become not only the concern of the two sultans, but also part of the mercantile and military elite in Egypt. The establishment of networks, more or less organized within the Mamluk realm and bound by common economic interests in the wake of the Rasulid embassies, had thus become the bedrock of a sustainable diplomatic order. But times had changed. Al-Muʾayyad Shaykh sold the entire diplomatic present on the Cairene market.68 He received a pretty good price, but did not share it among his amirs. All the money was used to build his madrasa: to “rebuild the House of the Sultan” was the most urgent need of the time.69 Moreover, the Rasulid sultanate had lost its luster. Undermined by civil wars, it was about to lose its strong position as an intermediate power between the western Indian Ocean and the Red Sea. While the control of the spice route coming from the south had long been a matter of diplomacy, it soon became an internal affair of the Mamluk sultanate. Although the mercantile networks of the Red Sea did not disappear from Egypt in the ninth/fifteenth century, their ties with the sultanate of Yemen almost totally broke down, and the reign of Sultan Barsbāy led to increased Mamluk control over their trading activities. Yemen had thus become a “useless state.”70

67

68 69 70

Vallet, Du système mercantile: embassy XXXIII; al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iv/1, 345, 367, 395; Anonymous, Taʾrīkh 186. For the letter sent by the Rasulid sultan with this embassy, see Ibn Ḥijja, Das Rauschgetränk 162–6. Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr vii, 207. Loiseau, Reconstruire. Vallet, L’ Arabie marchande 627–83.

diplomatic networks of rasulid yemen in egypt

601

Bibliography Primary Sources (Handwritten) Anonymous, Munshaʾa (Arabic), MS Arabe 4440, Paris, BnF.

Primary Sources (Printed) al-ʿAbbāsī, Āthār al-uwal fī tartīb al-duwal, ed. ʿA. al-R. ʿUmayra, Beirut 1989. al-Afḍal al-ʿAbbās, Kitāb al-ʿAṭāyā l-saniyya wa-l-mawāhib al-haniyya fī l-manāqib alyamaniyya, ed. ʿA. al-W. ʿA.A.A. al-Khāmirī, Sanaa 2004. al-Afḍal al-ʿAbbās, The manuscript of al-Malik al-Afḍal: A medieval Arabic anthology from the Yemen, ed. G. Rex Smith and D.M. Varisco, London 1998. Anonymous, Nūr al-maʿārif fī nuẓum wa-qawānīn wa-aʿrāf al-Yaman fī l-ʿahd al-muẓaffarī l-wārif / Lumière de la connaissance. Règles, lois et coutume du Yémen sous le règne du sultan rasoulide al-Muẓaffar, ed. M. Jāzim, 2 vols., Sanaa 2003–5. Anonymous, Taʾrīkh al-dawla al-rasūliyya, ed. ʿA.A. al-Ḥibshī, Damascus 1984. Baybars al-Manṣūrī, al-Tuḥfa al-mulūkiyya fī l-dawla al-turkiyya 648–711: taʾrīkh dawlat al-mamālik al-baḥriyya fī l-fatra 648–771, ed. ʿA. al-Ḥ. Ṣ. Ḥamdān, Cairo 1987. al-Fāsī, al-ʿIqd al-thamīn fī taʾrīkh al-balad al-amīn, ed. M. al-Ṭayyib et al., 8 vols., Cairo 1959–69. Ibn ʿAbd al-Majīd, Bahjat al-zaman fī taʾrīkh al-Yaman, ed. ʿA.A. al-Ḥibshī and M.A. alSanabānī, Sanaa 1988. Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir fī sīrat al-malik al-Ẓāhir, ed. ʿA. al-ʿA. al-Khuwayṭir, Riyadh 1976. Ibn Baṭṭūṭa, Tuḥfat al-nuẓẓār fī gharāʾib al-amṣār wa-ʿajāʾib al-asfār, ed. and trans. C. Defréméry and B.R. Sanguinetti, 4 vols., Paris 1853–9. Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, Masālik al-abṣār fī mamālik al-amṣār. L’Égypte, la Syrie, le Hijâz et le Yémen, ed. A.F. Sayyid, Cairo 1985. Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, al-Taʿrīf bi-l-muṣṭalaḥ al-sharīf, Cairo 1312/1894–5. Ibn Fahd, Itḥāf al-warā bi-akhbār umm al-qurā, ed. F.M. Shaltūt and ʿA. al-K. ʿA. Bāz, 5 vols., Mecca 1983–90. Ibn al-Furāt, Taʾrīkh al-duwal wa-l-mulūk, ed. Q. Zurayq and N. ʿIzz al-Dīn, vol. 9 (789– 799), Beirut 1936–8. Ibn al-Furāt, Taʾrīkh al-duwal wa-l-mulūk, ed. Q. Zurayq, vol. 7 (672–682), Beirut 1942. Ibn Ḥajar, al-Durar al-kāmina fī aʿyān al-miʾa al-thāmina, ed. S. al-Karnūkī, 4 vols., Hyderabad 1929–31. Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr bi-abnāʾ al-ʿumr fī l-taʾrīkh, ed. M. ʿAbd al-Muʿīd Khān, 9 vols., Hyderabad 1967–76. Ibn Ḥātim, Kitāb al-Simṭ al-ghālī al-thaman fī akhbār al-mulūk min al-Ghuzz bi-l-Yaman, ed. G.R. Smith, The Ayyubids and early Rasulids in the Yemen (567–694/1173–1295), 2 vols., London 1974.

602

vallet

Ibn Ḥijja, Das Rauschgetränk der Stilkunst oder Qahwat al-inšāʾ von Taqīyuddīn Abū Bakr. b. ʿAlī Ibn Ḥiǧǧa al-Ḥamawī al-Azrārī, ed. R. Veselý, Beirut and Berlin 2005. al-Janadī, al-Sulūk fī ṭabaqāt al-ʿulamāʾ wa-l-mulūk, ed. M. al-Akwaʿ, 2 vols., Sanaa 1983– 9. al-Khazrajī, al-ʿUqūd al-luʾluʾiyya fī taʾrīkh al-dawla al-rasūliyya, ed. M.B. ʿAsal, rev. M. al-Akwaʿ, 2 vols., Sanaa 1983. al-Khazrajī, al-ʿUqūd al-luʾluʾiyya fī taʾrīkh al-dawla al-rasūliyya, ed. ʿA.A. al-Ḥibshī, 2 vols., Sanaa 2009. al-Maqrīzī, Kitāb al-Sulūk li-maʿrifat duwal al-mulūk, ed. M.M. Ziyāda and S.ʿA. al-F. ʿĀshūr, 4 vols., Cairo 1939–73. al-Mawṣilī, al-Burd al-muwashshā fī ṣināʿat al-inshāʾ, ed. ʿA.S. Ṣabra, Beirut 1990. al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā fī ṣināʿat al-inshāʾ, ed. M.ʿA. al-R. Ibrāhīm, 14 vols., Cairo 1913–9, 21963. Polo, Marco, Le Devisement du monde, ed. and trans. R. Kappler, Paris 2004. al-Yūnīnī, Dhayl Mirʾāt al-zamān, 4 vols., Hyderabad 1954–61.

Secondary Sources ʿAbd al-ʿĀl, M., Banū Rasūl wa-Banū Ṭāhir wa-ʿalāqāt al-Yaman al-khārijiyya fī ʿahdihimā, Alexandria 1980. Apellaniz, Francisco, Pouvoir et finance en Méditerranée pré-moderne: le deuxième État mamelouk et le commerce des épices (1389–1517), Madrid 2009. Ayalon, D., Eunuchs, caliphs and sultans: A study of power relationships, Jerusalem 1999. Bauden, F., Les Relations diplomatiques entre les sultans mamlouks circassiens et les autres pouvoirs du Dār al-islām. L’apport du ms. ar. 4440 (BNF, Paris), in AI 41 (2007), 1–30. Broadbridge, A.F., Kingship and ideology in the Islamic and Mongol worlds, Cambridge 2008. Darrag, A., L’Égypte sous le règne de Barsbay (825–841/1422–1438), Damascus 1961. Garcin, J.-C., Un centre musulman de la Haute Égypte médiévale: Qūṣ, Cairo 1976. Holt, P.M., Early Mamluk diplomacy: Treaties of Baybars and Qalawun with Christian rulers, Leiden 1995. Labib, S., Handelsgeschichte Ägyptens im Spätmittelalter (1171–1517), Wiesbaden 1965. Loiseau, J., Reconstruire la maison du sultan. Ruine et recomposition de l’ordre urbain au Caire (1350–1450), 2 vols., Cairo 2012. Makariou, S. (ed.), Les Arts de l’Islam au Musée du Louvre, Paris 2012. Marmon, S., Eunuchs and Sacred Boundaries in Islamic Societies, Oxford 1995. Meloy, J., Imperial power and maritime trade: Mecca and Cairo in the later middle ages, Chicago 2010. Northrup, L., From slave to sultan: The career of al-Manṣūr Qalāwūn and the consolidation of Mamluk rule in Egypt and Syria (678–689AH/1279–1290), Stuttgart 1998.

diplomatic networks of rasulid yemen in egypt

603

Pellat, Ch., K̲ h̲aṣī, in EI², iv, 1087–91. Péquignot, S., Les Diplomaties occidentales et le mouvement du monde, in P. Boucheron (ed.), Histoire du monde au XVe siècle, Paris 2009, 709–23. Porter, V., Die Kunst der Rasuliden, in W. Daum (ed.), Jemen. 3000 Jahre Kunst und Kultur des glücklichen Arabien, Innsbruck 1987, 225–36. Porter, V., The Rasulid sultan al-Malik al-Mansûr and the mint of Mabyan, in Arabian Archaeology and Epigraphy 1 (1990), 34–45. Sadek, N., In the Queen of Sheba’s footsteps: Women patrons in Rasulid Yemen, in Asian Art 6/2 (1993), 15–27. Smith, G.R., Politische Geschichte der islamischen Jemen bis zur ersten türkischen Invasion (1–945 Hidschra—622–1538 n. Chr.), in W. Daum (ed.), Jemen. 3000 Jahre Kunst und Kultur des glücklichen Arabien, Innsbruck 1987, 136–54. Smith, G.R., The Ayyubids and Rasulids: The transfer of power in 7th/13th Yemen, in IC 43 (1969), 175–88; repr. in Smith, Studies in medieval history of the Yemen and South Arabia, London 1997. Vallet, É., Du système mercantile à l’ordre diplomatique: le bassin de la mer Rouge entre Yémen rasūlide et Égypte mamlūke (VIIe–IXe/XIIIe–XVe siècle), in Les Relations diplomatiques au Moyen Âge: formes et enjeux. XLIe Congrès de la SHMESP (Lyon, 3–6 juin 2010), Paris 2011, 269–301. Vallet, É., L’Arabie marchande. État et commerce sous les sultans rasūlides du Yémen (626–858/1229–1454), Paris 2010. Vallet, É., Mūsā b. al-Ḥasan al-Mawṣilī et la correspondance des sultans rasūlides du Yémen. Genèse d’un ordre épistolaire, in D. Aigle and S. Péquignot (eds.), La Correspondance entre souverains, princes et cités-Etats. Approches croisées entre l’Orient musulman, l’Occident latin et Byzance (XIIIe–début XVIe siècle), Turnhout 2013, 127– 45. Van Berchem, M., Notes d’archéologie arabe. III. Étude sur les cuivres damasquinés et les verres émaillés, in JA, 3 (1904), 1–90. Varisco, D.M., Texts and pretexts: The unity of the Rasulid state under al-Malik alMuzaffar, in REMMM 67 (1994), 13–23. Vermeulen, U., Une lettre du calife al-Mustakfī à Dāwud b. Yūsuf b. Rasūl (707A.H.), in Vermeulen and D. De Smet (eds.), Egypt and Syria in the Fatimid, Ayyubid and Mamluk Eras I, Leuven 1995, 363–71.

chapter 18

“Aggression in the Best of Lands”: Mecca in Egyptian-Indian Diplomacy in the Ninth/Fifteenth Century John L. Meloy

Two letters preserved in a Paris manuscript provide insight into the role of Mecca in diplomatic relations between Cairo—represented by the institutions of the Mamluk sultanate and the fainéant Abbasid caliphate—and the Malwa sultanate in India.1 Malwa, with its capital at Mandu, in central India, was a polity that emerged in the wake of Tīmūr’s conquest of northern India in 1402 and lasted until it was conquered by the Mughal emperor Akbar. One of Malwa’s sultans, Maḥmūd Shāh Khaljī (r. 839–73/1436–69), sent the first of these two letters to the Mamluk sultan al-Ẓāhir Khushqadam (r. 865–72/1461– 7) shortly before the Mamluk ruler’s death. The second letter, a response dated nearly two years later, was sent from Sultan al-Ashraf Qāytbāy (r. 872–901/1468– 96), Khushqadam’s main successor, who ascended to the throne in Cairo after the short intervening reigns of al-Ẓāhir Yalbāy and al-Ẓāhir Timurbughā. The reply arrived in Malwa after Maḥmūd Shāh’s death, and was received by his son and successor, Ghiyāth al-Dīn Shāh (r. 873–906/1469–1501). The letters offer a number of features that deserve attention, but here we examine a series of events that occurred in Mecca, and show that while the Holy City served as a venue for inter-state diplomacy, its political status could impede these connections. During these centuries, the rulers of Mecca were scions of the Banū Ḥasan, whose authority was based on their descent from the Prophet’s cousin and sonin-law, ʿAlī b. Abī Ṭālib, and whose disputes over succession to the sharifate made for periodic unrest in the city and its vicinity. Moreover, during much of the Mamluk period, the city and its immediate vicinity were also subject to what I have called the seasonal domination of the Cairo sultans, who sent sol1 BnF, MS Ar. 4440 consists of literary epistles, political letters, and decrees compiled in the ninth/fifteenth century. My thanks are due to Professor Frédéric Bauden for providing the MS pages of the two letters, fols. 180a–4b and 191a–4b, to conference organizers and participants for a stimulating time in Liège, and to Mr. Tarek Abu Hussein for a beneficial discussion of a draft of the paper. Of course, errors and omissions remain my responsibility.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2019 | doi:10.1163/9789004384637_019

“aggression in the best of lands”

605

diers and officials to ensure the peace during the season of the pilgrimage and, starting in the ninth/fifteenth century, to secure in Jedda the increasing trade from India that arrived with the monsoons. The unruly quality of this political arrangement, subject to the ambitions of competing authorities, produced an environment of political ambiguity that could be highly volatile, often resulting in violence.2 In the several years before Maḥmūd Shāh sent his letter, the Mamluk amir in charge of the region, Jānibak al-Ẓāhirī, exploited the weakness afforded by this ambiguity, which caused diplomatic repercussions in both India and Egypt. The contemporary Muslim rulers of India were keen to represent their religious identity in manifold ways. Perhaps the most widely known form of selfrepresentation was through association with the Abbasid caliphs of Cairo and the honorific titles and slogans that could thus be conferred. Certainly, these titles were used so often that they appear meaningless not only because the claims were outrageous, as in the slogan “the Caliph of God by proof and testimony,”3 but also because they came cheaply, costing as little as an exchange of correspondence. Indian rulers’ preoccupation with religious identity also appears in historical writing in the form of references to emblematic features of the Islamic past, the Prophet, Sufi shaykhs, and, of course, the caliphs.4 Another manifestation of this concern was the patronage of institutions in Mecca; these were not as numerous as the claims to the caliphate, but they were costly and became a source of severe tension for the sultan of Malwa. Broadly speaking, the dominant impression remains one of Indian rulers on the Islamic periphery expressing their religious identity and principles in various ways, including through connections to the Islamic center, whether the ritual center of the faith in Mecca or the titular center of the caliphate in Cairo. The letters at hand, and particularly the first one, treat a series of events that occurred at some unspecified time in Mecca prior to the writing of the first letter in mid-871/early 1467. Aḥmad Darrāj published these letters in an article in 1958, dating the events to the 860s/late 1450s to early 1460s, by using standard Mamluk accounts, the contemporary chronicles of Mecca not being well known then; furthermore, he did not draw on sources from India.5 Placed in the context of affairs in Mecca, this exchange, extended as it was over a period of several years, shows how the city, as a touchstone in the Islamic world, served 2 3 4 5

For an overview, see Meloy, Imperial power 18, 259. Ahmed, Studies 9–10; Eaton, The rise 57–8, note 72; cf. Karim, ‘Khalifat Allah’ 29. Auer, Symbols. Darrāj, Risālatān; a more thorough investigation of the Indian sources than has been possible here still needs to be undertaken.

606

meloy

as a connective and how, at the same time, the city’s volatile political status could disrupt its connectivity. Furthermore, the letters show how Mecca’s connectivity fostered a dialogue conducted by means of diplomacy that imposed normative religious pressure on Cairo that may have resulted in a change of Mamluk policy toward the Hijaz. The first letter, dated 1 Rajab 871/6 February 1467, sent from the Malwa sultan, Maḥmūd Shāh Khaljī, to the ruler of Egypt, al-Ẓāhir Khushqadam, consists of a furious account of hostile actions in Mecca. Maḥmūd Shāh initially conveyed his anger through his curt greeting and, by the standards of Mamluk protocol, relatively low form of address, recognizing the Mamluk sultan as al-majlis alsāmī.6 However, our main concern here lies with the content and context of the letter, rather than the form. The Indian ruler quickly proceeded to the source of his anger: the violent reception his emissaries had received at the hands of officials in Mecca, on two separate missions to the city. These trips would have followed the pattern of the monsoon, in which Indian ships typically arrived in Jedda in late spring and departed in August, so the period recounted may have extended over at least two years, and probably longer.7 In the first of these incidents, Maḥmūd Shāh wrote that he had sent his emissary, Malik Sunbul al-Sulṭānī, with funds to establish a madrasa in Mecca. The emissary bought two buildings (dārayn), the house (bayt) of Umm Hāniʾ and the house (dār) of al-Malāʿiba, which were presumably adjacent to each other.8 According to the Meccan chronicler al-Fāsī (d. 832/1429), the first of these was a structure named after the sister of ʿAlī b. Abī Ṭālib, who was noted as a transmitter of ḥadīth.9 The eponym of the second structure, that of the Malāʿiba, denoted a group active in Meccan politics at the beginning of the ninth/fifteenth century, according to al-Fāsī. Both structures stood near a gate of the Ḥaram Mosque, generally known as Bāb Umm Hāniʾ, but also known in al-Fāsī’s time as Bāb al-Malāʿiba.10 Maḥmūd Shāh made patently clear that the transaction was carried out legally, that it was witnessed by the religious authorities in the Ḥaram Mosque, and that the sharif of Mecca and his state officials (arkān dawlatihi) were fully informed. After purchasing the properties, Malik Sunbul oversaw the construction of the madrasa, established residents ( fuqarāʾ) within them, and 6

7 8 9 10

BnF, MS Ar. 4440 180a–b; Darrāj, Risālatān 111; al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā v, 462–8; alSaḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim i, 496–8; note that in the manuscript copy of the letter this title lacks the yāʾ mushaddada, denoting the lesser status; cf. Bosworth, Laḳab 627; Gully, The culture 181, 183. On sailing dates, see Meloy, Imperial power 58–62. BnF, MS Ar. 4440 181a; Darrāj, Risālatān 112. Al-Fāsī, al-ʿIqd al-thamīn viii, 354–5 (no. 3536). Al-Fāsī, Shifāʾ al-gharām i, 451; Ibn Ẓahīra, al-Jāmiʿ al-laṭīf 194.

“aggression in the best of lands”

607

returned to the Indian court. Subsequently, the letter goes on to say, an “oppressor” (ẓālim) in Jedda, the aforementioned Jānibak al-Ẓāhirī, appropriated the building “by force,” expelled the residents from it, razed the structure, and “built on it what he desired.”11 In this instance the letter refers specifically to Dār alMalāʿiba without mention of the house of Umm Hāniʾ, but one can reasonably speculate, on the basis of evidence discussed below, that by reference to the former both properties were meant. A number of issues deserve comment here concerning the date, the location, and the seizure; then we can move on to the moral weight of Maḥmūd Shāh’s rhetoric and its impact as seen in Qāytbāy’s reply. Aḥmad Darrāj dated the foundation and expropriation of the Malwa madrasa to 862–7 (1457–63), the first date being marked by the appointment of one of the accused officials, Burhān al-Dīn Ibrāhīm b. Ẓahīra, the Shāfiʿī chief judge in Mecca, and the second by the death of Jānibak al-Ẓāhirī. The Meccan chronicler Najm al-Dīn Ibn Fahd (d. 885/1480) provides a more accurate date. He records that in 866/6 October 1461–25 September 1462 “Jānibak [alẒāhirī] built his three houses (buyūt) opposite the Gate of Umm Hāniʾ, one of the gates of the Ḥaram Mosque.”12 Jānibak was the Mamluk amir tasked with supervision of customs revenues in Jedda, a position that he held from 849/1445 until his death in 867/1463 and that he used to amass a substantial fortune in order to reach the height of power in the Mamluk state.13 Ibn Fahd is silent on how Jānibak obtained this property but, given the prime location of the houses and the evidence contained in the letter from Maḥmūd Shāh, it is likely that Ibn Fahd’s remark refers to the property mentioned by the Indian ruler. Concerning the date of the expropriation, 866/1461–2 seems more likely than 865/1460–1, a year when Jānibak spent the trading season in Cairo; contrary to his usual practice, he stayed there in order to ensure the selection of his candidate, Khushqadam, for the Cairo sultanate and to ensure his own appointment as grand dawādār. After consolidating his position in Cairo that year, Jānibak opted to return to Jedda for the seasons when the Indian ships arrived in 866/1461–2 and 867/1462–3, for what turned out to be the last two years of his life.14 Ibn Fahd does not mention the Malwa emissary’s visit. The madrasa may have been founded in 866/1461–2 but, assuming that Malik Sunbul required some time to identify a suitable property and oversee the construction, it more likely occurred a year or so before. For example, the establishment of the Ban11 12 13 14

BnF, MS Ar. 4440 181a; Darrāj, Risālatān 112–3. Ibn Fahd, Itḥāf al-warā iv, 433. On his career, see Mortel, Grand Dawadār. Ibid. 453–5.

608

meloy

jaliyya madrasa, founded in 814/1411, required just under a year from the time the property was purchased to the start of classes, which included clearing the site and constructing the building.15 With regard to the location of the Malwa madrasa, the Gate of Umm Hāniʾ was a gate on the south (or, more properly, southeast) side of the Ḥaram Mosque.16 This location was optimal. By purchasing property opposite or near a gate, Maḥmūd Shāh Khaljī was following the long-standing practice, not only in Mecca but also in Medina and Jerusalem, of building religious institutions near a sacred structure, as documented by Doris Behrens-Abouseif and Christel Kessler.17 Concerning Mecca in particular, Richard Mortel notes that of the twenty-three madrasas he was able to document from the Mamluk period, only one was situated some distance from the mosque. In this context, it is noteworthy that three of these twenty-three madrasas, not including the one referred to here, were built by Indian patrons. Nineteen of these madrasas were clustered along or near the walls: seven were located on the western side, including four around Bāb al-ʿUmra; three madrasas, including those of Bengal and Cambay, stood close to the northern wall; two were situated near the eastern wall in an area of restricted space between the mosque and the Masʿā; and along the southern wall were seven madrasas, including the Gulbarga institutions next to Bāb al-Ṣafā.18 With this record of the Malwa institution, a total of eight stood near the southern wall, and Mortel’s Mecca survey can be increased to twentyfour madrasas. Regarding the seizure of the property, the confiscation of waqf s is, of course, not unheard of and one might suppose that, given the unruly politics of Mecca, this could easily have occurred. However, to my knowledge, there are no other reported expropriations of waqf s, Indian or otherwise, in Mecca. While it is true that Sharif Muḥammad “took” the Banjaliyya Madrasa in the mid-890s/1488– 93, it remained a madrasa—he expanded it, added additional doors, and compensated the beneficiaries.19 When the career of Jānibak al-Ẓāhirī is considered, particularly the last two years of his life, when he was one of the wealthiest and most powerful amirs in the Mamluk sultanate, as described by his contemporary, the historian Abū l-Maḥāsin Ibn Taghrī Birdī (d. 874/1470), Maḥmūd Shāh’s allegations that the amir seized it seem entirely plausible. To be sure, we

15 16 17 18 19

Al-Fāsī, Shifāʾ al-gharām i, 604–5. Ibid. i, 340–451; Ibn Fahd, Itḥāf al-warā iv, 433–4. Kessler, Funerary architecture; Behrens-Abouseif, Qāytbāy’s madrasahs 133–4. Mortel, Madrasas 244–5; al-Fāsī, Shifāʾ al-gharām i, 604–5; Ibn Fahd, Itḥāf al-warā iv, 45, 432–3, notes 3 and 4. Ibn Fahd, Ghāyat al-marām ii, 558, 599; al-Sakhāwī, al-Dhayl al-tāmm ii, 507–8; iii, 37.

“aggression in the best of lands”

609

should note Ibn Taghrī Birdī’s high praise for Jānibak. They knew each other well. In 863/1458–9 the amir hosted the historian, who spent that year as a pious resident (mujāwir) in Mecca. But Jānibak seems to have been as ruthlessly ambitious as he was generous to his friends.20 As noted earlier, Jānibak remained in Cairo in 865/1460–1 in order to take care of his political “business”: he orchestrated the downfall of Sultan alMuʾayyad Aḥmad b. Īnāl and the accession of al-Ẓāhir Khushqadam, breaking his long-standing practice to go to the Hijaz to oversee the collection of customs revenues, which were essential to his rise to power. With regard to his unscrupulous political ambition in the Hijaz, Jānibak incited a rebellion against Sharif Muḥammad in 864/1460. At this time, Muḥammad, who had been ruling sharif for only five years, was engaged in consolidating his control over outlying areas of the Hijaz, a process that took over a decade.21 Taking advantage of the young sharif, Jānibak attempted to increase his power by provoking Sharif Muḥammad’s minister, Budayd, to conspire in a coup. The conspiracy unraveled when a woman named Qandūla, a former wife of Budayd, who was also the sister-inlaw, through her brother, of the sister of Sharif Muḥammad, revealed the plot, which was successfully thwarted. Subsequently, Jānibak focused his political ambitions on Cairo and did not undertake any other plans against the sharif, but he was not one to forget old scores easily. Ibn Fahd remarked that the Mamluk amir sought to take Qandūla into custody, but she successfully eluded him by taking refuge with the sharif’s mother for the remainder of her life.22 Having consolidated his political position in the Mamluk state as the kingmaker of Sultan Khushqadam, Jānibak accumulated, during his last two commercial seasons in Jedda in 866/1461–2 and 867/1462–3, a fortune worth more, we are told, than everything he had earned in the previous fifteen years in the position.23 When Ibn Taghrī Birdī described Jānibak’s lavish generosity, we can detect the foundation of his network of influence: “I personally know that he gave to nine of his principal fellows, amirs and others, nine houses which had been the homes of amirs of the first class in Egypt.”24 In light of these letters, it would seem that his appetite for collecting real estate extended to Mecca as well. When Maḥmūd Shāh accused Jānibak of perpetrating “abominable” acts by taking the ʿushūr taxes, he was probably referring to the amir’s main

20 21 22 23 24

Mortel, Grand Dawadār 455; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, Ḥawādith al-duhūr viii, 568. Meloy, Imperial power 171–8. Ibn Fahd, Itḥāf al-warā iv, 403–7. Mortel, Grand Dawadār 455; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, Ḥawādith al-duhūr viii, 568. Ibn Taghrī Birdī, History of Egypt, pt. 7, 95.

610

meloy

source of income.25 At the end of 867/1462–3, when Jānibak was murdered in Cairo, possibly at the behest of Sultan Khushqadam himself, many others, not least among them the sultan of Malwa, must have felt that the amir’s fate was deserved. In 866/1461–2, the year that we propose for the expropriation of the Malwa madrasa, or possibly the year before, the sultan of Cambay in Gujarat, yet another Maḥmūd Shāh, known as Begŕā (r. 862–917/1458–1511), founded a madrasa in Mecca, a mission that was carried out evidently without any trouble.26 It may seem odd that within a short period of time one Indian ruler managed to build a madrasa while the institution of another was seized by a local official. How could this have happened? Ibn Taghrī Birdī notes that Jānibak had received numerous communications and gifts from the rulers of India and therefore must have been familiar with them.27 However, especially after the collapse of the Delhi sultanate and the rise of the successor states, there were quite a few Indian rulers to keep track of. In official Mamluk circles, Malwa and its capital of Mandu seem to have been relatively unknown throughout much of the ninth/fifteenth century. Al-Qalqashandī (d. 821/1418), whose administrative manual dates to the early ninth/fifteenth century, notes Cambay and the region of Gujarat in his administrative manual, but mentions only that Malāwah, as he rendered the name, was one of twenty-three regions in India.28 Al-Saḥmāwī (d. 868/1464), whose administrative manual dates to the second quarter of the ninth/fifteenth century, notes that India was divided into five kingdoms, mentioning in fact a total of six: the first four of these—Delhi, Cambay, Bengal, and Gulbarga are well known—but the remaining two, Ṣanbūb and Mādūk-n, are not identifiable and would seem to be a reflection of the Mamluk chancery’s relative ignorance of affairs in south Asia—perhaps understandable, given the magnitude of the region and the changing state of affairs there.29 Ibn Taghrī Birdī, whose view of India postdates that of al-Saḥmāwī by a couple decades, provides a considerably more accurate image of the political map of south Asia. In describing the rulers of the world, he notes that in India there were six “notable kings”: those of Delhi, Cambay, Bengal, Gulbarga, Jawnpur, and Bijankār (or Vijayanagara). These six, he notes, are considered “appointed governorates” (wilāyāt) of the Abbasid caliph, and reflect the practice of appealing to the caliphate for diplomas of investiture, an act that, no 25 26 27 28 29

BnF, MS Ar. 4440 182b; Darrāj, Risālatān 115. Ibn Fahd, Itḥāf al-warā iv, 432. Ibn Taghrī Birdī, History of Egypt, pt. 7, 95. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā v, 68, 73–4. Al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim ii, 780–2.

“aggression in the best of lands”

611

doubt, the Hindu rulers of Vijayanagara would never have carried out. He continued: “as for the other [rulers], there are many like Kashmir, whose ruler is named Zayn al-ʿĀbidīn, and Maydūma, whose ruler is named Maḥmūd.”30 His information about Kashmir is accurate. Maydūma, on the other hand, must be a corruption of Mandāwa, a variant of Mandu, Maḥmūd Shāh Khaljī’s capital. Malwa was relatively unknown, certainly in comparison to Cambay, the main port and capital of Gujarat, or other major west Indian ports like Dābul and Calicut.31 So, one might plausibly conclude that when the officials from Malwa arrived in Mecca, they were considered relatively unimportant. Indeed this attitude may have prompted Jānibak to expropriate the Malwa property, while he did not dare touch the madrasa of Cambay, which was a major trading partner. To get back to Maḥmūd Shāh Khaljī’s letter, and particularly its moral force, sometime after Jānibak expropriated the madrasa, Maḥmūd Shāh received news about “the aggression in the best of lands” (i.e., Mecca, al-ʿudwān fī khayr al-buldān) and sent a second mission of emissaries with funds amounting to 50,000 ashrafi dinars and gifts for the Mamluk sultan, the caliph in Cairo, the sharif of Mecca, and voluntary alms (ṣadaqāt) for the judges and superintendants in Mecca and Medina.32 The delegation traveled in three ships separated in transit by a storm that caused them to arrive in Jedda over an extended period of time, which apparently diminished the grandeur of their arrival. Indeed, they were welcomed with brutality, the injustice of which was amplified in that this occurred in the Ḥaram Mosque in Mecca. Maḥmūd Shāh wrote: When they assembled by the grace and assistance of God (bi-karam Allāh wa-ʿawnihi), the supervisors of the Ḥaram, the judges, and their most unjust chief (al-naqīb), the Shāfiʿī judge named Ibrāhīm, [a man of] the worst (?) of traits, a Nimrud of actions, took them, as thieves capture people, in chains and manacles and beat them brutally to the extent that the traces of this remained visible on their bodies and they took from them more [cash] than that which we had granted to each one.33

30 31

32 33

Ibn Taghrī Birdī, Ḥawādith al-duhūr viii, 287. This commercial activity is best documented for the last third of the fifteenth century (see Meloy, Imperial power 189–91 and appendix C) but this high level of activity is more than likely to have started earlier, at the turn of the fifteenth century, if not before. BnF, MS Ar. 4440 181a–b, 183b; Darrāj, Risālatān 113, 115; on alms for officials in Mecca, see Meloy, Imperial power 191–7. BnF, MS Ar. 4440 181b; my thanks to Professor ʿAbd al-Raḥīm Abū Ḥusayn for his assistance with the text; cf. Darrāj, Risālatān 113.

612

meloy

At this stage in this unfortunate series of events, two other culprits are identified in the letter. The first is the Shāfiʿī chief judge of Mecca, Burhān al-Dīn Ibrāhīm b. Ẓahīra, and the other is ʿAlī b. Ramaḍān, who served as Jānibak alẒāhirī’s financial officer (ṣayrafī), and who subsequently succeeded Jānibak as the supervisor (nāʾib) in Jedda from 869/1464–5 until ʿAlī’s death in 871/1466–7. The accusations against ʿAlī b. Ramaḍān fit with what al-Sakhāwī (d. 902/ 1497) and Ibn Taghrī Birdī report about him. Because of his appointment in Jedda, al-Sakhāwī reported, ʿAlī b. Ramaḍān grew very rich and had a reputation for being “tyrannical, immoral, and unjust, not one to forgive or forbear”— he was a “collector of illegal taxes,” a makkās.34 Ibn Fahd mentioned nothing in particular about ʿAlī, who was only noted as an official but not associated with any such incident. The accusations against Burhān al-Dīn, however, do not quite fit with the view of our other sources, nor with the view of the second letter, the response of Sultan Qāytbāy, who had nothing but praise for him. On the Mamluk side, he was considered a man of integrity. A few years after the events described in the letters, in 875/1470–1, he had the mettle to stand up against the sultan’s representative Shams al-Dīn Ibn al-Zaman who tried to build a ribāṭ in Mecca that encroached upon the Masʿā, the stretch of land upon which pilgrims performed the ritual running between the hillocks of Marwa and al-Ṣafā. As a result of his protestations, Burhān al-Dīn was removed from his post— unjustly, according to Ibn Fahd and al-Sakhāwī—but Qāytbāy later re-instated him.35 The terminus post quem provided by ʿAlī b. Ramaḍān’s appointment allowed Aḥmad Darrāj to date the second mission from Malwa to the span of two years from Rajab 869 (27 February–28 March 1465), when ʿAlī took over, to 27 Jumādā I 871/4 January 1467, when he died. Because Maḥmūd Shāh’s letter was dated Rajab 871/6 February–8 March 1467, dating this episode to the months after the customary departure of ships from Jedda, in the end of 870 and beginning of 871/August 1466, is untenable since there would not have been time for the incident to happen and word to get back to Malwa. More likely, the episode took place in roughly Shawwāl 870/prior to the summer of 1466, but probably earlier in ʿAlī’s tenure. To sum up, we can propose that Jānibak al-Ẓāhirī expropriated

34 35

Al-Sakhāwī, al-Ḍawʾ al-lāmiʿ v, 220–1 (no. 745); al-Sakhāwī, al-Dhayl al-tāmm ii, 207. Al-Sakhāwī, al-Ḍawʾ al-lāmiʿ i, 88–99, esp. 94; Ibn Fahd, Itḥāf al-warā iv, 531–2, 564–5. In fact, regarding Burhān al-Dīn, Ibn Fahd reports that in 862/1457–8 a decree was read saying that he had claim to the ṣadaqāt al-sharīfa. This does not exonerate him from charges of corruption, but it may account for his taking funds from the emissaries mentioned in the letter; the second incident may have resulted from the Malwans’ ignorance about the division of the ṣadaqāt.

“aggression in the best of lands”

613

the Malwa madrasa in 866/6 October 1461–25 September 1462, probably in the summer trading season of 866/1462; the madrasa had been built on two properties purchased that year or the year or two before, and upon these he built three houses. Jānibak was murdered in Cairo at the end of the following year, in Dhū l-Qaʿda 867/July–August 1463. One can speculate that, given his importance in Jedda and Mecca, news of Jānibak’s death traveled widely to ports engaged in trade with Jedda, possibly it was conveyed by Indian ships departing with the monsoon of that year. This news may have prompted the Malwa sultan to send the second mission that arrived in the Hijaz between Rajab 869/27 February– 28 March 1465, and late 870/roughly August 1466, when the emissaries were brutalized by local officials and robbed of 50,000 dinars. While these events were taking place, in the latter half of Jumādā I 870/ roughly 3–18 January 1466, the court at Malwa received an embassy from the Abbasid caliph al-Mustanjid. The emissaries brought a number of gifts for Maḥmūd Shāh Khaljī: a Quran, a sword, a ring, a robe of honor (khilʿa), and a caliphal certificate of investiture dated 8 Shaʿbān 869/5 April 1465; the latter indicates that he had time to depart with the monsoon that summer.36 The second mission from Malwa to Mecca thus perhaps took place at about the same time as an embassy from Cairo to Malwa. Certainly a cordial mission from Cairo could have happened independently of scandalous behavior in Mecca. This was the problem—Cairo’s lack of control over Jedda and Mecca. Diplomacy may be defined as “the conduct of relations between states and other entities … by peaceful means.”37 However, diplomacy can only operate within a secure environment, governed by the mutual recognition of political authorities who ensure a space in which the diplomat can safely conduct his mission. This was lacking in Jānibak’s Hijaz and for some time after until Sharif Muḥammad and Sultan Qāytbāy secured it. Nevertheless the embassy from Cairo was an important event in Malwa, whatever damage was suffered in Mecca. In 870/1465–6, for the first time Maḥmūd Shāh minted on his coins the title “Yamīn al-Khalīfa, Nāṣir Amīr alMuʾminīn”; previously, he had made no claim to association with the caliph, claiming only the title “al-Sulṭān al-Aʿẓam ʿalā l-dunyā wa-l-dīn.”38 But the contact had a greater significance in the context of Maḥmūd Shāh’s political persona and pretensions in south Asian politics. According to al-Ulughkhānī’s Gujarat chronicle, some days after the investiture ceremony, Maḥmūd Shāh 36 37 38

Al-Ulughkhānī, Ẓafar al-wālih i, 204; Day, Medieval Malwa 213; King, History and coinage 375. Yurdusev, The Ottoman attitude 10. Day, Medieval Malwa 43, 213–4; King, History and coinage 72.

614

meloy

had a dream in which he found himself in a grand procession wearing a khilʿa. He mounted a horse that had descended from the heavens and arrived at the gates of Delhi. He entered and found himself in a room where a group of Arabs wearing black mantles, signifying the Abbasid dynasty, stood together on a dais. Among them were the caliphs al-Manṣūr and Hārūn al-Rashīd with whom he exchanged greetings. One of the group asked al-Manṣūr about Maḥmūd Shāh and the caliph announced, “this is Maḥmūd Shāh, the one who loves us.”39 By the time the first letter was written in 871/1466–7, Maḥmūd Shāh had received the embassy from Caliph al-Mustanjid, a contact that may have prompted him to write his letter to complain of the enmity that his emissaries had met. Also, by this time, Sharif Muḥammad had achieved control over the Hijaz, although this may not have been apparent to the ruler of Malwa.40 In noting the caliphal embassy, the Indian sources do not mention the Mamluk sultan Khushqadam; this is not surprising since Maḥmūd Shāh, like other Indian rulers, was concerned with establishing his institutional presence in Mecca and his association with the caliph. However, Maḥmūd Shāh’s letter shows very clearly that he knew to direct his complaints to the Mamluk sultan in Cairo rather than to the caliph. In his letter to Khushqadam, Maḥmūd Shāh addressed the humiliation and the financial loss that he had suffered, and conveyed the powerful moral pressure that spoke to the broader principles of their common faith and principles of justice, and not just to specific crimes. Cairo, of course, passed through some political turmoil soon after the arrival of the letter. After the death of Sultan Khushqadam there was a period of rapid political turnover with the brief reigns of Yalbāy and Timurbughā in 872/1467–8, a year which ended with the accession of Sultan Qāytbāy. Maḥmūd Shāh’s derisive bitterness is as clear as his principles when he quoted the Quran (3:97): So this is what happened in the Sanctuary of God Almighty in the days of the Just King, and God Almighty says, “He who enters it is safe.” So the security they had hoped for there is replaced with intimidation? Would the officials have leave to treat them as they please, no one to hold them accountable for what they perpetrate? God protect you and us from their evil deeds and benefit you and us with their just actions.41

39 40 41

Al-Ulughkhānī, Ẓafar al-wālih i, 204. On dreams of Indian rulers, see Auer, Symbols 97–8, 101; on dreams and the political order, see Frenkel, Dream accounts 202–20, esp. 212. Meloy, Imperial power 171–8. BnF, MS Ar. 4440 181b; Darrāj, Risālatān 113–4.

“aggression in the best of lands”

615

The Indian ruler brought to bear on the Mamluk ruler the moral force of their common faith, invoking the Prophet Muḥammad: Our intentions are not limited to ending these conditions but rather to report as did the Prophet who said, “Not one of you is safe until you desire for your brother what you desire for yourself.” Thus we heard about the injustice (ẓulm) that happened in Mecca the Noble and in Jedda the Blessed against the pilgrims, the messengers, and the merchants which no one would approve of [even] in the abode of war. But how so in the abode of security?42 Given the persistence of this unacceptable behavior, Maḥmūd Shāh pointed out that such actions could have disastrous political consequences: But the brazen evil-doers persisted in this, taking up the bribes and sanctioning for their followers widespread wickedness, so indeed no one says that these crimes happened in the days of the official so-and-so but they attribute the oppression to the governors and the sultan.43 And again he resorted to prophetic injunction to urge the Mamluk ruler to his duty: So it is incumbent upon us to investigate the conditions which we govern from the affairs of creation and to change the oppression, convert the corruption, and aid the oppressed from the oppressor of humankind. As he said, “Help your brother, oppressor and oppressed.” So they said, “O Prophet of God, we help the oppressed, but how do we help the oppressor?” And so he said, “Take his hands and prevent him from oppression.” And this is only the affair of the sultans for they are able to take the hand of the oppressor and prevent him from oppression from between the two worlds. God give you and us success in ending inequities and rejecting injustices and new [taxes] (muḥdathāt).44 In spite of the vehemence of this letter, a response was not issued until almost two years later, in a letter from Sultan Qāytbāy, dated 7 Jumādā I 873/23 November 1468. Two monsoon trading seasons in Jedda would have passed by then, the 42 43 44

BnF, MS Ar. 4440 ibid.; Darrāj, Risālatān 114. BnF, MS Ar. 4440 182a; Darrāj, Risālatān 114. BnF, MS Ar. 4440 182b; Darrāj, Risālatān 114–5.

616

meloy

summers of 1467 and 1468. One can only speculate about the reasons for this delay: the political turmoil of the post-Khushqadam succession and local officials’ ignorance of Malwa come to mind. Whatever the case, Maḥmūd Shāh’s letter was ultimately effective since it elicited a very favorable response. Qāytbāy addressed the Indian ruler respectfully and more elaborately than did Maḥmūd Shāh in the first letter, calling the sultan of Malwa al-maqām al-ʿālī, a more elevated status than had been used to address Khushqadam.45 Qāytbāy first made it clear that his predecessor, Khushqadam, had ruled at the time the scandalous events had transpired, no doubt making it easier for him, as sultan, to rectify the transgressions since he could claim that he was not in office when the incidents occurred. Indeed, the Mamluk sultan followed through on the complaints. Given the principled language of Maḥmūd Shāh, it is no surprise that at the outset Qāytbāy asserted the basis of his rule, “to command right and to forbid wrong, to eliminate injustices and to rescue (akhadha) the oppressed from the oppressor.”46 More specifically, with regard to the madrasa, Qāytbāy recognized that Jānibak had seized it illegally and by force and had destroyed it. Furthermore, he acknowledged that it would be unfortunately impossible to reproduce its exact appearance. But he nonetheless ordered that construction could proceed there of a “ribāṭ or the like.”47 It would appear that Qāytbāy was true to his word since later during his reign there is evidence that the madrasa was operating. On several occasions in his Meccan chronicle, ʿIzz al-Dīn Ibn Fahd (d. 922/1517) notes in passing, as late as 920/1514–5, the existence of al-Madrasa al-Khaljiyya, or al-Mandawiyya.48 Al-Sakhāwī also mentions the institution and explains in his biographical dictionary that it was founded by Maḥmūd Shāh Khaljī at the Gate of Umm Hāniʾ, also known as the House (dār) of Umm Hāniʾ, and that a Ḥanafī scholar, Shams al-Dīn Muḥammad al-Bukhārī, was appointed as its shaykh.49 With regard to the matter of taxation, Sultan Qāytbāy agreed to forbid the collection of any illegal taxes. Whether or not he could enforce this, of course, is uncertain, but he did publicly proclaim the abolition of all uncanonical taxes (mukūs). In Jedda the decree was posted on the gate of the Customshouse (al-furḍa) and in Mecca it was mounted on the Bāb al-Salām, dated Shaʿbān

45 46 47 48 49

Al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim ii, 515; al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā v, 463. BnF, MS Ar. 4440 192a; Darrāj, Risālatān 119. BnF, MS Ar. 4440 193a–b; Darrāj, Risālatān 121. Ibn Fahd, Bulugh al-qirā ii, 821, 842, 888, 908; iii, 1966. Al-Sakhāwī, al-Ḍawʾ al-lāmiʿ x, 148–9 (no. 590), for Maḥmūd Shāh Khaljī; and ix, 223 (no. 543), for Shams al-Dīn Muḥammad al-Bukhārī; al-Sakhāwī, al-Dhayl al-tāmm iii, 350.

“aggression in the best of lands”

617

872/25 February–24 March 1468,50 and he also appointed a new deputy to Jedda, Badr al-Dīn Abū l-Fatḥ al-Manūfī.51 With regard to the reception of emissaries, Qāytbāy stated that he had ordered his functionaries not to act unjustly or to expropriate funds and gifts from the Indian sultan’s messengers. “We instructed them, and appealed to God Almighty to cease the oppression and the affliction, that we [will] punish anyone who does so with the strongest and severest retribution and we [will] withhold blessings from him.”52 The sources do not provide examples of such sanctions, but cordial communications seem to have continued in the following years. Three years after the second letter was sent, in 876/1472–3, Ibn Fahd reported that Qāytbāy sent a message to his officials in Jedda asking them to forward to India the accompanying decrees and a robe of honor to Ibn al-Khaljī, the ruler of Malwa.53 Maḥmūd Shāh’s démarche worked. But, beyond the details of Qāytbāy’s compliance, its significance is that religious principles and expectations that were evoked by Muslim rulers in the Indian subcontinent were now being sent back to the centers of Muslim power. The Mamluk protector of the caliphate, who claimed to be the Servitor of the Two Holy Sanctuaries, was being held accountable by a man who had received his khilʿa. Expressions of religious identity and political legitimation documented in Delhi, Bengal, and throughout the rest of Muslim India were accompanied by the exportation of Islamic principles of governance from the Asian subcontinent. Maḥmūd Shāh conveyed the notion (to borrow a phrase from Harold Nicolson, the diplomat and theorist of diplomacy) that “certain principles other than national expediency … must govern their policies and their acts.” To be sure, faith and law were not the only factors at play here; Qāytbāy’s court no doubt also understood that commerce was a mutually beneficial expedient.54 More broadly, and although the sources do not make an explicit connection here, it is noteworthy that Qāytbāy changed the way the Hijaz was governed; he gave Sharif Muḥammad b. Barakāt, who ruled until the end of the ninth/fifteenth century, more political latitude. The sharif’s new-found power, for example, in his authority to make appointments in the Hijaz, suited Qāytbāy’s political self-interest, since it may have been intended to discourage the

50 51 52 53 54

Ibn Fahd, Itḥāf al-warā iv, 483; Meloy, Imperial power 173. BnF, MS Ar. 4440 192a; Darrāj, Risālatān 120. BnF, MS Ar. 4440 193a; Darrāj, Risālatān 121. Ibn Fahd, Itḥāf al-warā iv, 537; dated 4 Rabīʿ I 876/21 August 1471, Ibn Fahd notes that the ships had already left, one of the problems of trans-oceanic communications. Nicolson, The evolution 50; on law and commerce, see Nicolson, Diplomacy 46–51.

618

meloy

possibility of future Jānibaks.55 Later, of course, Qāytbāy reverted to a more fiscally aggressive policy in the Hijaz, and officials in Jedda continued to abuse merchants, but none could compare with Jānibak.56 Nonetheless, the timing of this Indian diplomacy suggests that it may have been an important factor in prompting a change of Mamluk policy, perhaps all the more effective because it operated through Mecca. The treatment received by the Malwa emissaries recalls a number of other incidents that Nicolson calls “diplomacy by insult,”57 of which the ninth/fifteenth century offers many examples. Some diplomatic insults might be justified—such as Sultan Barsbāy’s refusal to allow Shāh Rukh to furnish the kiswa for the Kaʿba or Sultan Qāytbāy’s refusal to let Uzun Ḥasan claim the title of Servitor of the Two Noble Sanctuaries—on the grounds that these had been prerogatives of Cairo for centuries. But other insults would appear to be entirely gratuitous: for example, when Barsbāy refused to comply with Shāh Rukh’s request to send scholarly books authored by Ibn Ḥajar al-ʿAsqalānī and alMaqrīzī. Or insult might be met with violence, as when Shāh Rukh’s emissary, who offered Barsbāy a khilʿa for the deputyship of Egypt and demanded that he announce the Friday sermon and issue coinage in the Timurid ruler’s name, was severely beaten and unceremoniously thrown into a pool of water.58 The violence that the Malwa emissaries received was by no means a matter of diplomatic insult. Mecca, as viewed from Cairo, was often seen as a place of strife, and both the Mamluks and the Meccans had a hand in this violence. The violence was most often associated with renegade sharifs or transitions to power, as in the rampaging destruction of Aḥmad al-Jāzānī at the beginning of the tenth/sixteenth century.59 But Mecca’s ambiguous political status was a convenience that could also benefit both sides. This arrangement was highly volatile, offering a weakness Jānibak al-Ẓāhirī and his immediate successors exploited when the representatives of Maḥmūd Shāh unwittingly arrived. However, Mecca’s religious status in the eyes of the faithful from Cairo to Mandu and beyond was ultimately more enduring than the city’s political volatility.

55 56 57 58 59

Meloy, Imperial power 171–203, and esp. 178. Mortel, al-Aḥwāl al-siyāsiyya 189; Meloy, Imperial power 179, 188. Nicolson, The evolution 91. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iv, 928, 932, 969; Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iii, 88, 90; Ibn Fahd, Itḥāf al-warā iv, 557–8. Meloy, Imperial power 18, 104, 114, 183, 232, 259.

“aggression in the best of lands”

619

Bibliography Primary Sources (Handwritten) Anonymous, Munshaʾa (Arabic), MS Arabe 4440, Paris, BnF.

Primary Sources (Printed) al-Fāsī, al-ʿIqd al-thamīn fī taʾrīkh al-balad al-amīn, ed. M.Ṭ.Ḥ. al-Fiqī et al., 8 vols., Cairo 1959–69. al-Fāsī, Shifāʾ al-gharām bi-akhbār al-balad al-ḥarām, ed. A.F. al-Sayyid and M.M. alDhahabī, 2 vols., Mecca 21999. Ibn Fahd, ʿIzz al-Dīn ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz, Bulūgh al-qirā bi-dhayl Itḥāf al-warā, ed. Ṣ. al-D. b. Kh. Ibrāhīm et al., 4 vols., Cairo 2005. Ibn Fahd, ʿIzz al-Dīn ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz, Ghāyat al-marām bi-akhbār salṭanat al-balad alḥarām, ed. F.M. Shaltūt, 3 vols., Mecca 1986–8. Ibn Fahd, Najm al-Dīn ʿUmar, Itḥāf al-warā bi-akhbār umm al-qurā, ed. F.M. Shaltūt, 5 vols., Mecca 1983–90. Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr fī waqāʾiʿ al-duhūr, ed. M. Muṣṭafā, 6 vols., Cairo 1960–75. Ibn Taghrī Birdī, Ḥawādith al-duhūr fī madā l-ayyām wa-l-shuhūr. Muntakhabāt/Extracts, ed. W. Popper, 4 parts, Berkeley 1930–42. Ibn Taghrī Birdī, History of Egypt, 1382–1469A.D. (al-Nujūm al-zāhira fī mulūk Miṣr waal-Qāhira), ed. and trans. W. Popper, 7 parts, Berkeley 1954–63. Ibn Ẓahīra, al-Jāmiʿ al-laṭīf fī faḍl Makka wa-ahlihā wa-bināʾ al-bayt al-sharīf, Cairo 2003. al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk li-maʿrifat duwal al-mulūk, ed. M.M. Ziyāda and S.ʿA. al-F. ʿĀshūr, 4 vols., Cairo 1956–73. al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā fī ṣināʿat al-inshāʾ, ed. M.Ḥ. Shams al-Dīn, 15 vols., Beirut 1987–9. al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim fī ṣināʿat al-kātib wa-l-kātim, ed. A.M. Anas, 2 vols., Cairo 2009. al-Sakhāwī, al-Ḍawʾ al-lāmiʿ li-ahl al-qarn al-tāsiʿ, 12 vols., Bulaq n.d. al-Sakhāwī, al-Dhayl al-tāmm ʿalā Duwal al-islām lil-Dhahabī, ed. Ḥ.I. Muruwwa, 3 vols., Beirut 1992. al-Ulughkhānī, Ẓafar al-wālih bi-Muẓaffar wa-ālih (An Arabic history of Gujarat), ed. E. Denison Ross, 3 vols., London 1910–28.

Secondary Sources Ahmed, A., Studies in Islamic culture in the Indian environment, Oxford 1964. Auer, B.H., Symbols of authority in medieval Islam: History, religion, and Muslim identity in the Delhi sultanate, London 2012. Behrens-Abouseif, D., Qāytbāy’s madrasahs in the holy cities and the evolution of Ḥaram architecture, in MSR 3 (1999), 129–47.

620

meloy

Bosworth, C.E., Laḳab, in EI2, v, 618–31. Darrāj, A., Risālatān bayna Sulṭān Mālwa wa-l-Ashraf Qāytbāy, in Revue de l’Institut des Manuscrits Arabes 4 (1958), 97–123. Day, U.N., Medieval Malwa: A political and cultural history, 1401–1562, Delhi 1965. Eaton, R., The rise of Islam on the Bengal frontier, Berkeley 1993. Frenkel, Y., Dream accounts in the chronicles of the Mamluk period, in L. Marlow (ed.), Dreams across boundaries: The interpretation of dreams in Islamic lands, Boston 2008, 202–20. Gully, A., The culture of letter-writing in pre-modern society, Edinburgh 2008. Karim, A., ‘Khalifat Allah’ title in the coins of Bengal sultans, in Journal of the Pakistan Historical Society 8 (1960), 25–34. Kessler, C., Funerary architecture within the city, in Colloque international sur l’histoire du Caire (27 Mars–5 Avril 1969), Cairo 1969, 257–68. King, L.W., History and coinage of Malwa, in Numismatic Chronicle (4th ser.) 3 (1903), 356–98; 4 (1904), 62–100. Meloy, J.L., Imperial power and maritime trade: Mecca and Cairo in the later middle ages, Chicago 2010. Mortel, R.T., al-Aḥwāl al-siyāsiyya wa-l-iqtiṣādiyya bi-Makka fī l-ʿaṣr al-mamlūkī, Riyadh 1983. Mortel, R.T., Grand Dawadār and governor of Jedda: The career of the fifteenth century Mamluk magnate Ǧānibak al-Ẓāhirī, in Arabica 43 (1996), 437–56. Mortel, R.T., Madrasas in Mecca during the medieval period, in BSOAS 30 (1997), 236– 52. Nicolson, H., Diplomacy, London 1939. Nicolson, H., The evolution of diplomatic method, London 1954. Yurdusev, A.N., The Ottoman attitude toward diplomacy, in Yurdusev (ed.), Ottoman diplomacy, Basingstoke 2004, 5–35.

chapter 19

Some Remarks on the Diplomatic Relations between Cairo, Delhi/Dawlatābād, and Aḥmadābād during the Eighth/Fourteenth and Ninth/Fifteenth Centuries Stephan Conermann and Anna Kollatz

After its creation in 606–7/1210 the Delhi sultanate lasted for almost two hundred years and for almost half that period functioned as the sole bastion of Muslim power in India. The Gujarat sultanate was an independent kingdom established in the early ninth/fifteenth century. When the Delhi sultanate was weakened by the sacking of Delhi by Tīmūr in 800–1/1398, Ẓafar Khān Muẓaffar, the governor of Gujarat, took the opportunity to establish himself as sultan. During the Muzaffarid rule the newly established capital Aḥmadābād grew to become one of the largest and wealthiest cities in India. Both sultanates established contact with the political powers of Cairo. The most important reason for sending envoys to the capital of the so-called Mamluk Empire was the desire to legitimize their rule in the face of would-be rebellious amirs. One episode is the return of Muḥammad b. Tughluq’s (r. 725–52/1325–51) envoy with a personal robe of the Caliph al-Ḥākim bi-amr Allāh (r. 741–53/1341–52) and a diploma conferring on the sultan the rank of the caliph’s lieutenant. In our article, we compare and analyze the known reports and documents on such relations between the sultanates of Delhi/Dawlatābād and Aḥmadābād given by Bārānī (d. after 758/1357), al-Maqrīzī (d. 845/1442), Ibn Abī l-Faḍāʾil (d. after 759/1358), Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī (d. 749/1349), Ibn Ḥijja (d. 837/1434), Ibn Baṭṭūṭa (d. 770/1369–70 or 779/1377) and by the anonymous author of the Sīrati Fīrūz Shāhī (ca. 774/1373). Let us begin with some general observations:1 the challenges posed by the rise of the Ismailites, and later the Buwayhids, in Iraq were, in large part, the inspiration for the Sunni theory of the caliphate as set forth by al-Māwardī

1 In this, we follow Ahmed, Studies 4–5.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2019 | doi:10.1163/9789004384637_020

622

conermann and kollatz

(364–450/972–1058) in his famous al-Aḥkām al-sulṭāniyya.2 In this treatise, the Sunni successor states were linked with the centralized spiritual authority of the Abbasid caliphate. Legal power over their own territories was delegated to the actual sovereigns of the successor states and they were entitled to the loyalty of their subjects. In his magisterial book, Political Thought in Medieval Islam, Erwin Rosenthal summarizes the situation as follows: “In theory at least, the offices of caliph and amir are united in one and the same person. In practice the caliph often delegates his temporal authority to an amir, who exercises effective power but recognizes the spiritual authority of the caliph.”3 This may be nothing more than legal fiction, but it was this one aspect alone that guaranteed the unity of Islam under the all-encompassing authority of the sharīʿa. Thus, we know that the caliphate is an important factor for the legitimization of rule for every Muslim sovereign. Still, this alone is insufficient. On a more abstract level, the terms “influence,” “power,” and “authority” allude to the noticeably distinct qualities of those social relations in which one person acts by word or deed and another one reacts, in situations where points of view, tendencies, and interests collide.4 According to Max Weber, every person or a group of people (or established patterns of human conduct that come into existence through a multitude of individuals which we call an institution) has authority if his or her requests and orders are accepted as a precept, or as a maxim by those to whom those requests and orders are directed.5 Daily observation and personal experience suggest that it is easier to analyze the difference between “authority,” “power,” and “influence” on an abstract level than to recognize them in practice:6 the performances of most people are as much driven by fear, indifference, habit, hopelessness, self-interest, and rational expediency as respect, deference, and confidence in “right action.” One should therefore rely less on statements that claim to explain why the subjects reacted as they did to the claims to power on the part of the ruler than on statements that define this claim itself.

2 For the development of an Islamic political theory, see Conermann, Die Beschreibung Indiens 11–31; Al-Azmeh, Muslim kingship; and Crone, Medieval political thought. 3 Rosenthal, Political Thought 23. 4 Good introductions to this difficult field are Lukes, Power; Mann, The sources; Scott, Power; Haugaard, The constitution; Han, Was ist Macht?; Clegg, et al., Power; and Clegg and Haugaard, Introduction. 5 Cf. Weber, Wirtschaft 28 f. 6 For the German concept of “Herrschaft,” see Maurer, Herrschaftssoziologie; and Maurer, Herrschaft.

diplomatic relations between cairo, delhi, and aḥmadābād

623

Historians of the Middle Ages in Indo-Persia point to a number of characteristics which bestowed power on a person:7 1) Competence, especially in times of war, played a dominant role. 2) Membership in an established royal family vested a person with a certain power. In the Delhi sultanate, however, incompetent members of the house, or whole lineages, were superseded, as in the case of four descendants of Īltutmish (r. 607–33/1211–36) between 633/1236 and 646/1246, in the supersession of the Balbān-family through the Khaljis, and that of the Khaljis through Nāṣir al-Dīn Khusraw Khān after 720/1320. It is not always clear what effect ethnicity had, if at all, on claims to and the exercise of powers. 3) Dynastic relations, ethnic background, personal allegiance, and loyalty between the donor and the beneficiary played an essential role in the acquisition of power, as did military competence. The power of a sovereign over individuals is described by historians as mutual but not stipulated power, because the terms in this case are not definite. The act of prerecognition is a performative one, meaning it is already generating power through its execution. If that is the case, then the power of a king or ruler is not based on values according to which the ruler acts, because none are specified. Power is based on unilateral recognition. Loyalty toward a recognized ruler seems to be a value in itself. 4) If nothing else, power in general is “vested power” (wilāya), a “unilateral” transfer through God. The people who have been vested with this kind of power are responsible to God Himself. A good example of such a concept of power is the awarding of the title “Right Hand of God’s Deputy” and “Auxiliary of the Commander of the Faithful” to Īltutmish by the Abbasid caliph al-Mustanṣir bi-llāh (d. 640/1242).8 Contemporary IndoPersian sources, especially the Ṭabaqāt-i Nāṣirī,9 reveal little detail on the ceremony in celebration of this occasion: the city of Delhi was decorated, Īltutmish and his officers received robes of honor (khilʿa),10 and a banquet followed. Minhāj al-Dīn Jūzjānī (d. after 657/1259) reports that when the envoy of the caliph reached Īltutmish, he “observed the rules of obedience and submission that were compulsory towards him” and that he

7 8 9 10

Cf. Hardy, The duty; and Hardy, The authority. See Jackson, The Delhi sultanate 37–8. For this work and his author, see ibid. 45–9. Cf. Jūzjānī, Ṭabaqāt-i Nāṣirī i, 129, 447, 454. For usage of robes in official ceremonies, see Hambly, From Baghdad.

624

conermann and kollatz

was “overcome with joy.”11 It was on this occasion that the poet Tāj al-Dīn Sangriza (d. 664 or 674/1266 or 1276) composed his famous eulogy.12 Who initiated the negotiations between Delhi and Baghdad and when they came into being remains uncertain. We do not know if the last Abbasid caliphs exchanged delegations with the successors of Īltutmish. The name of the last caliph of Baghdad, al-Mustaʿṣim bi-llāh (d. 655/1258), appeared for the first time in India on the coins of ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn Masʿūd (r. 639–44/1242–6) and was used even after the assassination of this caliph, the obvious end of the Abbasid dynasty and the Mongol conquest of Baghdad in 655/1258.13 In theory, the sultans of Delhi came to terms with the concept of the generally accepted caliphate with a hypothetical caliph. In this period, chroniclers in Mamluk Egypt, who listed contemporary foreign rulers at the beginning of annals on a regular basis, mentioned the Delhi sultanate correctly only one time (662/1264); this would seem to indicate the isolation of the sultanate.14 It was not until 699–700/1300–1, after the invasion of Gujarat by the forces of ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn Khaljī (r. 695–715/1296–1316) opened up new routes of communication with the Mamluk Empire, that historians again included the name of the sultan in regular intervals in the lists of the contemporary rulers.15 What do we know about the situation of the caliphate in Cairo? There are remarkably few studies on this topic.16 Annemarie Schimmel argues in her still useful dissertation of 1942 that at the time of the Abbasid mock-caliphate, even the rights that the caliphs had exercised in the years of their deepest demise in Baghdad (e.g., the appointment of religious officers) were not granted to them.17 Even the insignia of the ruler (seal, mantle of the prophet, scepter) disappeared. The caliph had to pay homage to the sultan by giving him the black robe of honor of the caliph and a black turban. During the ceremony of inauguration, the caliph legitimized the sultan through a contract (ʿahd) that he had drawn up for the sultan. This contract was read out loud by the kātib al-sirr and certified by the qāḍīs. To complete the ceremony, the sultan rode through the city. In internal Mamluk power struggles, the caliphs oftentimes did not play a laudable part. The power of the caliph decreased in such a way that those 11 12 13 14 15 16 17

Ahmed quotes the historian al-Sīrhindī who wrote his Tārīkh-i Mubārak Shāhī around 1428. See Ahmed, Studies 6. The later chronicler Badāʾūnī (d. 1024/1615) mentions this. Cf. again ibid. 6. See Auer, Symbols 108 who quotes Qureshi, The administration 29. Jackson relies on Ibn Aybak al-Dawādārī, Kanz al-durar 102. Cf. Jackson, The Delhi sultanate 45. Ibid. Holt, The position; Holt, Some observations; and Levanoni, The Mamluk conception. For the following part, see Schimmel, Kalif und Kadi 1–10.

diplomatic relations between cairo, delhi, and aḥmadābād

625

who were only serving symbolic purposes could be immediately demoted by the sultan if they engaged in any political activity that was not in the sultan’s interest. Al-Maqrīzī (d. 845/1442) describes it in this fashion: The Mamluks installed a caliph as a man to whom they gave this name and the titles that went with it, but he had no remnant of authority, not even the right of expressing his opinion. He spent his time among the nobles, the high officials, scribes, and judges paying them visits to thank them for the dinners and entertainments to which they had invited him.18 Another reference can be found in one of al-Suyūṭī’s (d. 911/1505) works: Things have come to such a pass in our time that the caliph visits the sultan to congratulate him at the beginning of every month, and the utmost that the sultan condescends in his favour is to come down from his dais and the two sit together beyond the dais; the caliph gets up and goes away like an ordinary person and the sultan seats himself again upon the throne of state.19 The caliph was only occasionally reminded of his former authority to exert power: when he had to draw up a certificate for the installation of an “independent” Muslim ruler.20 The sultans of Delhi, for example, recognized him and even held the Friday prayer in his name. Because they were apparently not very well informed about the events in the Islamic world and did not know about the weakness of the caliph, they regularly sent envoys to Cairo to have the Abbasid caliph draw up a certificate of installation. The Mamluk sultan in Egypt did not make objections to it because it did not concern his own dominion. In the 740s/1340s Muḥammad b. Tughluq took several steps that doubtlessly were meant to gain support for his leadership. We know from Egyptian sources that he was in touch with the caliph al-Mustakfī (d. 740/1340) as early as 730– 2/1330–1 and that at least three delegations were dispatched from Delhi.21 AlMaqrīzī gives an account of the arrival of the delegation of the “king of al-

18 19 20 21

Cf. Arnold, The caliphate 102. Cf. ibid. 101. For the caliphate in Cairo, see Banister, The Abbasid caliphate. Bārānī, Tārīkh-i Fīrūz Shāhī 491–7. For Muḥammad b. Tughluq’s embassies to Cairo see Jackson, The Mongols 131–2, note 74; Jackson, The Delhi sultanate 271–2; Conermann, Die Beschreibung Indiens 100–3; and Auer, Symbols 110–3.

626

conermann and kollatz

Hind” in May–June 731/1331; its mission concerned Baghdad.22 This must have been the first inquiry about the fate of the Abbasids to which Bārānī (d. after 758/1357) refers.23 According to Ibn Abī l-Faḍāʾil (fl. 750/1350), a previous envoy from India had been arrested and murdered by al-Mujāhid ʿAlī, the ruler of the Rasulids in Yemen.24 As a reprisal, al-Nāṣir imprisoned al-Mujāhid’s emissaries in 730–1/1330. Ibn Abī l-Faḍāʾil also refers to another delegation from Delhi in 737–8/1337. Two years later, Muḥammad replaced the name of al-Mustakfī (who had actually died a year before) on the coins and in the khuṭba with his own.25 In 743–4/1343, an unofficial envoy of Cairo by the name of Hājjī Saʿīd Ṣarṣarī delivered Muḥammad a diploma, banner, and robe.26 Such a ceremony, during which the sultan adopted an attitude of utmost humbleness, made a strong impression on Bārānī, who left us a vivid description of the event in his Tārīkh-i Fīrūz-Shāhī.27 In 745–7/1345–6, the official envoy of Muḥammad, Ḥājjī Rajab Burquʿī, returned to Delhi with a personal robe of the caliph alḤākim bi-amr Allāh who was al-Mustakfī’s son and successor, and a diploma that conferred upon the sultan the rank of a representative of the caliph.28 He was accompanied by the Egyptian great qāḍī, Shaykh al-Shuyūkh Rukn al-Dīn al-Malaṭī. The arrival of the envoy was celebrated with an elaborate eulogy written by the court poet and laureate Badr-i Chāch (d. 814/1412).29 Rukn al-Dīn al-Malaṭī left India at the beginning of Fīrūz Shāh’s reign and returned to Cairo in 754/1353 after an absence of almost ten years.30 From the Sīrat-i Fīrūz Shāhī—an anonymously composed text from 774/1373, which is of great interest—we learn that in the same year a delegation of the caliph al-Muʿtaṭid bi-llāh (d. 764/1362) arrived in Delhi, delivered to Fīrūz Shāh (r. 752–90/1351–88) a mandate (manshūr) of rule over India and conferred upon him the titles Sayf al-Khalīfa and Qāsim Amīr al-Muʾminīn.31 This diploma helped confirm the exclusive legitimacy of his reign. In 763–5/1362–3, the subsequent caliph, al-Mutawakkil ilā llāh (r. 764–78/1362–77, 778–85/1377–83, 791–

22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31

Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk ii/3, 333. See Bārānī, Tārīkh-i Fīrūz Shāhī 492–6. See Ibn Abī l-Faḍāʾil, al-Nahj al-sadīd 145 (trans.), 46 (Ar. text); al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk ii/2, 322; Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, al-Taʿrīf 49. Cf. Thomas, The chronicles 254–61; Wright, The coinage 168–71. Cf. Ibn Baṭṭūṭa, Riḥla 155–8 and 455. See al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk ii/3, 333. See Ibn Baṭṭūṭa, Riḥla 157. See Ernst, Eternal garden 57–8. Cf. al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk ii/3, 887; Jackson, The Delhi sultanate 296. ʿAfīf, Tārīkh-i Fīrūz Shāhī 273 gives another description of this event.

diplomatic relations between cairo, delhi, and aḥmadābād

627

809/1389–1406), sent another mission to Delhi carrying a mandate addressing Fīrūz Shāh as Sayyid al-Salāṭīn and declared him walī of the caliph. This anecdote is also referred to in the Futūḥāt-i Fīrūz Shāhī, a short compilation in which Fīrūz Shāh refers to some of his achievements, especially his reforms:32 The greatest and best of honours that I obtained through God’s mercy was, that by my obedience and piety, and friendliness and submission to the Khalifah, the representative of the holy Prophet, my authority was confirmed; for it is by his sanction that the power of kings is assured, and no king is secure until he has submitted himself to the Khalifah and has received a confirmation from the sacred throne. A diploma was sent to me fully confirming my authority as deputy of the Khilafat, and the leader of the faithful was graciously pleased to honour me with the title Sayyid asSalatin. He also bestowed upon me robes, a banner, a sword, a ring, and a foot-print as badges of honour and distinction.33 Similar delegations followed in 765–7/1364–5 and, according to the Sīrat-i Fīrūz Shāh, also in the following year. Al-Mutawakkil was quick to emphasize that obeying the sultan meant obeying the caliph himself, that the sultan was authorized to make jihād against rebels, and that neither him nor either of his predecessors had issued any mandate for any other Indian ruler except for the ruler of Delhi. Thus, the sultan appointed Fīrūz Shāh to be his agent to negotiate with the Muslim provinces of the subcontinent. The territories listed in al-Muʿtaḍid’s diploma comprised not only Bengal, Maʿbar, Tilang, Dēōgīr, Kawlam, Hinawr, Bāknūr, and the remaining coastal area, but also “the island of Sarandīb” (Ceylon), “Jāwāt,” the Qarāchīl mountain, and “the Afghan mountains” as far away as Kashmir and Zāwulistān up to the borders of the Turks in Mā warāʾ al-Nahr. It is worth citing the Sīrat-i Fīrūz Shāhī in its entirety: [275] The sublime nature of his Majesty, the sultan, is distinguished by the following characteristics: One of these is a mandate of rule from the holy court of the caliph—may God perpetuate his rule. Thus, the sultanate continues to exist due to the name of the Sultan ʿAbdallāh. The caliphate of the Banū ʿAbbās is appointed over the [different] communities of Islam by the word of the holy Prophet and by consensus. It is permanent and lasting till the day of resurrection. The recognition of the imam is a duty

32 33

For this text, see Nizami, On history 205–10. Fīrūz Shāh, Fūtuḥāt 469 (trans.) and 89 (Pers. text).

628

conermann and kollatz

for all Muslims and [is done] in consensus. After the [time of] the rightlyguided caliphs, the imamate as well as the caliphate belongs to the Banū ʿAbbās. Abū Shukūr Sālimī says: “The ahl-i sunna va-jamāʿa agree on the caliphate belonging to the Banū ʿAbbās. Their order has to be followed and the umma has to protect them and to confide in them.” Fakhr al-Dīn Rāzī says: “The Abbasid caliphs have a permanent caliphate due to the word of the holy Prophet, the sayings of the holy Prophet’s companions, and by consensus (ijmāʿ).” According to the words of the holy Prophet, exegesis, and interpretation (sharḥ va-bayān), the conditions of rule (imāra), caliphate, and imamate are extracted from the book Mashrūḥ al-khulafāʾ wa-manẓūr al-umarāʾ, written by Yūsuf b. Muḥammad b. Ẓāhir: “The imamate is not rightful (durust) without the [following] preconditions being fulfilled. First, he has to be a Muslim, as God the Most Elevated has ordered it. Second, he has to belong to the ahl-i sunna va-jamāʿa, to save the umma from innovations (bidʿa) and from falling apart. He must not leave them and must not pay attention to poor judgments. He must not abandon the excellence of Islam, nor follow the way of those who damage the sunna by innovations and controversy. [276] Third, he must be righteous inwardly and outwardly and he must not be infamous or hasty, for God has said: ‘Be obedient to the messengers sent to you.’ Fourth, he must be wise and recognize those parts of the sharīʿa which are not helpful, so that if he recognizes something to be wrong, he may countermand it. Fifth, he has to be in a good state of health to be able to fulfill his functions with firmness and vigor. Sixth, the imam has to belong to the Quraysh, for the holy Prophet has said: ‘The rule belongs to the Quraysh to make it stable and durable.’ Seventh, there must be consensus between the ʿulamāʾ, the righteous (ṣulaḥāʾ), and the common people.” It is written in the same book, in a chapter on rule and its preconditions: “There are three kinds of amirs. First, the one who considers the worship of God as [his] duty ( farż); second, the one who subjugates; and third, the one who changes the religion and acts cowardly. An amir who considers the worship of God as his duty stands on the imam’s side, obedient to the commands of the caliph and the amīr al-muʾminīn of his time. A subjugating amir is one who oppresses [the people], even if they render the bayʿa to him or if they have rendered [it] to him before, when he was still a just and satisfactory [ruler]. [The amir has to] follow the way of justice and to avoid the path of injustice and iniquity. An amir who changes the religion of God the Most Eminent (kardānandih-yi dīn-i khudā ast) is

diplomatic relations between cairo, delhi, and aḥmadābād

629

one who changes the sunna of the holy Prophet, who oppresses the people and uses violence against them. Thus, everyone tenacious in combat and battle is obligated to fight him and certainly [this is] lawful [277], and under no circumstances may he be negligent in doing so. He shall not kill him, but throw him into prison. He shall be indulgent toward everything he caused, because the evil and fitna among the faithful are caused by carnage and not by right. The predation of goods or the rape of women are worse than averting [from] God the Most Eminent or changing sunna of the holy Prophet.” In the book Rawżat al-mulūk the rights of the vālī against his subjects and the army as well as the rights of the subjects against the vālī are described. The rights of the vālī against his subjects are five things: First, [they have to be] beneficent (samḥ) and obedient in everything he orders, except in [case he orders] rebellion against God the Most Eminent. Second, they have to perform the common prayer and the Friday prayer behind him, the way they know it, correctly. Third, if the vālī needs help, his subjects have to support him with their lives and souls to defeat his enemies. When the vālī makes war against the infidel, they have to accompany him. They have to recognize this as glorious for Islam and the people of Islam and they must recognize also the perfidy and the polytheism (shirk) of the heretics. Fourth, they have to take up arms against vālīs, both against those who oppress their country and against those who are unjust and unsatisfactory. [They also have to] take up arms against those who attack their [own] vālī. Fifth, they have to pray for the vālī, both in silence and in public, for his welfare (ṣalāḥ), [physical] integrity, and satisfaction. They must not pray for his ruin, whether he is oppressive or righteous, because the welfare of the vālī equals the welfare of his subjects and his ruin leads to the destruction of his subjects. Only because of his existence, do the subjects act honestly despite their iniquity and debauchery. If there were no vālīs, but the people were highly virtuous, then the pilgrims would leave for the pilgrimage; those who [intend to do] the ʿumra would start off on it, the conquerors would start off on conquests as well as the [278] mujāhidān for the holy war. The learned men would start to study the sciences, the worshipers would devote themselves to worship, the muezzins would call for prayer, the religious men would engage in their businesses, the tradesmen would start trade, the scribes would start writing, and the farmers would start farming. But if there were no vālīs, the infidels and heretics would prevail over the people of Islam and [people] of righteousness; innovations (bidʿa) would come over the ahl-i sunna va-jamāʿa; the idle and vile would gain power over

630

conermann and kollatz

the honest and over the firm law of the learned men of religion. [No one] would then know the power and righteousness of the vālī, except someone who is intelligent and understanding. The rights of the vālī against the army are five things: First, they have to be obedient toward him in every circumstance, apart from rebellion against God. Second, they shall love his life. Third, they shall be benevolent and must not dare to hesitate in handing over their wealth. Fourth, they shall bear in mind his righteousness and justice and must not disgrace him, because they will be joyful in following and miserable in neglecting [his order]. Fifth, they must not leave him, except with permission, and if it is necessary for any reason. They shall be present before him day and night. The subject’s rights against the vālī are five things: First, he shall act just toward them from his soul. Second, his rule shall be based on law. Third, he shall keep them from doing violence to each other. Fourth, he shall know that he is their ruler ( farmāndih) and the director (kārkun) of the learned and the wise. Fifth, he shall call them to be obedient toward God as it has been passed down from Saʿīd b. Samīt from forty people from the tābiʿūn and from the aṣḥāb of the holy Prophet among whom are counted ʿAlī b. Abī Ṭālib, Abū Bakr Ṣiddīq, ʿUmar b. Khaṭṭāb, ʿUs̠mān b. ʿAffān, Jābir b. ʿAbdallāh al-Anṣārī, [279] Muʿāẕ b. Jabal, Ubayy b. Kaʿb, ʿAbdallāh b. ʿUmar Khaṭṭāb, ʿAbdallāh b. Masʿūd, Zayd b. S̠ābit, and Salmān Fārsī—may God be pleased with them—that they said: The holy Prophet has said: “The way of right guidance (hady) consists of seven things. It is true for every community that everyone who does not have these seven things will be excluded because he drives the people of the qibla toward heresy (kufr), polytheism, and hypocrisy. Leave their fate to God. Hold a funeral prayer for everyone from the people of the qibla who dies. Be ready [to pray] five prayers behind every Imam, whether he is good or sinful. Gather behind every vālī, whether he is just or unjust. Make war against the infidel and the rebels together with every caliph! Your jihād on the infidels is also jihād on their sins. Do not rise up against your imams, even if they oppress you, and make invocations (duʿāʾ) for your imams for [physical] integrity and satisfaction and do not pray for evil things for them. Keep away from every idle thing. Indeed, the first idleness and the last are completely futile. The order belongs, following the law, to the caliph and the imam of the time—may it flourish from the time of our ancestors to our days.” The caliphate has been handed down to his august person, al-Mutawakkil ʿalā llāh Muḥammad b. Abī Bakr—may God preserve his caliphate eternally. [The learned] agree on the following ancestry of the caliphs of

diplomatic relations between cairo, delhi, and aḥmadābād

631

the Banū ʿAbbās: al-Mutawakkil ʿalā llāh Amīr al-Muʾminīn Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad—may God preserve his caliphate eternally—b. al-Imām alMuʿtażid bi-llāh Abū l-Fatḥ Abū Bakr b. al-Imām al-Ḥākim bi-amr Allāh Abū l-ʿAbbās Aḥmad b. al-Imām al-Mustakfī bi-llāh Abū l-Barīʿ Sulaymān b. al-Imām Abī Muḥammad b. al-Imām Abī Jaʿfar b. al-Imām alMurshid bi-llāh Abī [280] Manṣūr Fażl b. al-Imām al-Mustaẓhir bi-llāh Abī l-ʿAbbās Aḥmad b. al-Imām Abī l-Qāsim ʿAbdallāh al-Muqtadir billāh b. al-Imām Dhakhīrat Wālī ʿAhd al-Muslimīn Abī l-ʿAbbās al-Imām al-Qāsim bi-amr Allāh Abī ʿAbdallāh Jaʿfar b. al-Imām al-Qādir bi-llāh Abī l-ʿAbbās Aḥmad b. al-Amīr Abī Isḥāq b. al-Imām Abī Jaʿfar al-Muʿtamid b. Amīr al-Muʾminīn al-Muʿtażid bi-llāh Abī l-ʿAbbās Aḥmad b. al-Amīr Muḥammad al-Muwaffaq b. Amīr al-Muʾminīn Jaʿfar al-Mutawakkil ʿalā llāh b. al-Imām Muḥammad al-Muʿtaṣim bi-llāh b. al-Imām Hārūn alRashīd b. al-Imām ʿAbdallāh al-Manṣūr b. ʿAlī l-Saḥād [sic] b. ʿAbdallāh b. ʿAbbās—may God be pleased with them. From among the sultans who have ruled in the capital of the Indian Empire (mamālik-i Hind), Sultan Muʿizz al-Dīn Muḥammad Sām and Sultan Shams al-Dīn Īltutmish were honored and distinguished by [receiving] mandates of authority. They obeyed the orders from the capital of the caliphate, as it was their [order’s] due, and they distinguished themselves by dispatching applications and presents to the capital of the caliphate. After the expiry of their reign, the other sultans were neglectful of obtaining this distinction and good fortune, until by the grace of God, the capital Delhi was honored by the accession of the late Sultan Abū l-Mujāhid Muḥammad Shāh b. Tughluqshāh. Due to the honesty of his purpose and his wide study of books, he found the truth and arrived at the firm opinion that the sanction of the rightful caliph must be obtained, [281] so that he may rule over the people rightfully and the darkness of illegal dominion may be transformed with the light of legal authority. For this reason, the use of the title of sultan, the delivery of sermons, the receiving and granting [of money], and the enforcement of law were suspended. Not only that, but for a while, the sultan withdrew himself from the affairs of government and state, till in the year 744 [/1343–4], Ḥājjī Rajab Burquʿī was sent to the capital of the caliphate in Egypt. Because [the sultan excelled in strength of] faith and power of sincerity, the news concerning his expressions of faith reached the ears of al-Mustakfī bi-llāh Abū l-Rabīʿ Sulaymān even before the ḥājjī had reached the capital, as did [the sultan’s] request for recognition and his acceptance as a slave [of the caliphate] and [the information that] he had showed submission to the authority of the caliphate. The caliph, very kindly, issued a man-

632

conermann and kollatz

date of authority [and dispatched it] through Ḥājjī Ṣarṣarī, Sayyid Ziyād, Mubāshir Khilāfatī and Muḥammad Ṣūfī. In the year 745 [/1344–5], they came to the late Sultan, Abū l-Mujāhid Muḥammad Shāh b. Tughluqshāh, with a sword, a robe of honor, and the mandate. He observed the formalities of submission with the sincerity of faith. All this is known to everyone. Shortly after that came another mandate through Ḥājjī Kh.l.f, the caliph’s envoy, purporting to verify the genuineness of the mandate of authority brought by Ḥajjī Ṣarṣarī. When Ḥājji Rajab, who had been sent from Delhi, reached Egypt, the amīr al-muʾminīn al-Mustakfī bi-llāh had departed to the other world. After his death his son, al-Ḥākim bi-amr Allāh Abū l-ʿAbbās [282] Aḥmad ascended the throne of the caliphate. He sent Muḥammad Shāh a mandate conferring authority, sanction, and deputyship along with the ensign of caliphate, a sword, a footprint [of the holy Prophet], a robe of honor, the mantle of the caliphate, and a turban of mastery (ʿimāmat-i muʿallim) for the late ruler Muḥammad Shāh Ṭālib. Mandates were received in this fashion year after year. After the deaths of the late rulers, mandates from the capital of the caliphate with robes of honor and ensigns of honor, like rings, swords, ensigns of the dynasty (dawla), and other gifts were received constantly by his Majesty the Sultan, the Shadow of God Abū l-Mużaffar Fīrūz Shāh, may God preserve his rule eternally. First, a mandate of authority was sent by his Majesty amīr al-muʾminīn al-Muʿtażid bi-llāh Abū Bakr b. al-Ḥākim bi-amr Allāh Abū lʿAbbās Aḥmad through the hands of Shaykh Shihāb al-Dīn Aḥmad Ṣāmit in the year 754 [/1353–4], conferring the authority on the Indian Empire with its environs, islands, coasts, and its ports. During this mandate, his Majesty the Sultan passed away. After the demise of Imam al-Muʿtażid bi-llāh Abī Bakr—may his grave be purified—his majesty Sayf al-Khilāfa Qāsim amīr al-muʾminīn, was honored to be the caliph of both worlds and rightful imam. When he ascended the throne of caliphate in the year 764 [/1362–3], Abū Bakr al-Mutawakkil ʿalā llāh—may God preserve his caliphate eternally—issued a mandate and [sent out] Qāżī Bahāʾ al-Dīn and Khwāja Kāfūr, the two envoys of the capital of the caliphate. [The mandate] contained the following: “We commit the empire of the Indian climate to Sayyid al-Salāṭīn Fīrūz Shāh [283] and make him the rightful vālī of its environs and islands, of Sarāndīb [Ceylon], Jawāt, Maʿr, Saylān, Kawlam, Sawliyān, Hunūr, Bāknūr, Bangāla, Lakhnawtī, Tank, Dēōgīr, Sawāḥil, Malwa, Gujarat, Dehli, Kūhmā Qarājil, Sind, the frontier of Afghāna, the mountains of Ān Tākshīr and Zawistān up to the frontier of the Turks and of Transoxiana. [This is made] legal and rightful. Surely his orders have to be obeyed there due to

diplomatic relations between cairo, delhi, and aḥmadābād

633

our mandate [which is directed] against the damage and molestation of [his] rule and in favor of its strengthening and its orders. We expanded what is under his hands. His order concerning the taking and granting of possession and granting and confiscation [of money] has to be obeyed. If anyone resists him or revolts against him, it is the duty of the Sayyid alSalāṭīn Fīrūz Shāh to beat him. The armies of Islam are obliged to make jihād on those who are disloyal enemies. Everyone who obeys him is also obedient toward us, and everyone who is obedient toward us is also obedient toward God, exalted be His glory. Everyone who acts without the order [of the sultan] also acts without our order and the order of the holy Prophet and starts rebellion against God. It has also been issued by his Majesty amīr al-muʾminīn al-Mutawakkil ʿalā llāh—may God preserve his caliphate eternally—through the hands of Nāṣir al-Dīn, the keeper of seals of the amīr al-muʾminīn and Sharaf al-Dīn Rifāʿī in the year 766 [/1364–5], that Sayf al-Khilāfa Qāsim amīr al-muʾminīn makes known to the Sayyid al-Salāṭīn Fīrūz Shāh that [284] we did not send messages to any of the pādshāhs of India concerning the throne of Delhi and we did not issue a mandate of rule to anyone. We entrusted the rule over the Indian Empire to you. Thus, everyone who is obedient toward you is also obedient toward us and everyone who acts without your permission is also disobedient toward us. He shall be degraded and our sword shall hit him. Surely, we also made you vālī of the Indian Empire and all [regions] belonging to it. We sent to you a sword, a personal saddle [of the caliph], a horse and a bridle to mount you on horseback following the tradition of the ancient sultans. Moreover, with the grace of the Lord of Lords—exalted be His glory—his holy Majesty the caliph bestows every year, through the hands of reliable and trustworthy persons, plenty of mandates with robes of honor, signs of honor, ensigns, and other gifts. Thus, the order is issued with sincerity, devotion, loyalty, and obedience. Reverence and deference have to be paid to the envoys of the capital of the caliphate. Vaqfs have to be installed to restore the land and institutions in the Indian Empire, the cisterns and the irrigation systems have to be restored and mosques, forts, madrasas, khānqas, border fortifications, fortresses and citadels shall be built all over the empire, they have been appointed with a certain amount of expenses. From the residence of the amīr al-muʾminīn—may God preserve his caliphate eternally—[a mandate has been sent] with a personal robe of honor and a sword, through the hands of Maḥmūd Shams, whose father and brothers have been servants of his majesty for a long time, and who has been sent in Jumāda II of the year 771 [/December 1369], with a mandate confirming the vaqfnāma

634

conermann and kollatz

[sent before] in the hands of Qāẓī Najm al-Dīn Qurayshī and Khwāja Kāfūr Khalīfatī, the two envoys of the capital of the caliphate, and of the [285] [above]mentioned Maḥmūd. The adorned and sealed vaqfnāma containing the mandate of authority of the amīr al-muʾminīn [reached the Indian residence] and has been sent out to all parts of the country, to announce this grace, the right, and the benevolence of the caliph and his appointment everywhere and to make known to everyone that the good fortune of this grace has been given [to Fīrūz Shāh]. This is definitive evidence of the lawful rule [of Fīrūz Shāh] and of the fact that no vaqfnāma from the capital of the caliphate has been sent to any other pādshāh, as this would have filled the royal mind with indignation.”34 After the invasion of Tīmūr (d. 807/1405) in 800/1398 and the demise of the Tughluqids in Delhi, Khiḍr Khān (r. 816–24/1414–21) replaced the names of the caliphs of Cairo with the names of Tīmūr and Shāh Rukh (d. 850/1447), but this innovation was limited to his reign. His Sayyid successors (816–54/1414–51), as well as the Lōdīs (854–932/1451–1526), returned to the established wording that described them as the viceroys (nāʾib) of the caliph of the Muslims— that was true until the rise of Bābur (d. 937/1530) in Delhi in 933/1526.35 When they declared themselves to be independent from the supremacy of Delhi and minted their own coins, the regional Muslim rulers of northern India did so in the name of the Abbasid caliph. The coins of the kings of Bengal bore the name of al-Mustaʿṣim even long after this was discontinued by the mint in Delhi.36 The Sharqī sultans of Jawnpur (797–884/1394–1479) called themselves vice-regents of the Prince of the Faithful and minted the name of the Abbasid caliphs on their coins.37 The successor state of the Tughluq Empire in Gujarat (794–992/1391–1583) is an interesting case. In the eighth/fourteenth century, Gujarat—a rich province because of its commercial and maritime links to the other coasts of the Indian Ocean—was governed by vicegerents that were dispatched by the sultans of Delhi until Nāṣir al-Dīn Muḥammad Shāh (r. 792–6/1390–3) appointed Ẓafar Khān (r. 794–814/1391–1411) in 794/1391.38 When the Tughluqids experienced a noticeable decline, Ẓafar Khān became independent and formally adopted the

34 35 36 37 38

Anna Kollatz made this translation from Anonymous, Sīrat-i Fīrūz Shāhī 275–84. Cf. Thomas, The chronicles 333–9. For this information and the following references, see Ahmed, Studies 10. Cf. Thomas, The chronicles 274–7, 304–5, 308–9, 311, 316. Cf. ibid. 194, 197, 201. See Burton-Page, Gud̲ ja̲ rāt.

diplomatic relations between cairo, delhi, and aḥmadābād

635

insignia of kingship in 809/1407, calling himself “Muẓaffar Khān” from then on. Shortly afterwards, he sent a delegation to Cairo to receive official recognition from the caliph. We do not know if the document reached him, but a copy of this ʿahd of 815/1413 exists in al-Qalqashandī’s (d. 821/1418) Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā and in Ibn Ḥijja’s (d. 837/1434) Qahwat al-inshāʾ.39 It is an extremely interesting diploma, because of its diction, its diplomatic rhetoric, and its composition and it is certainly worthy of detailed analysis. To conclude, we would like to stress two points: (1) Unfortunately, we have only the most sparse information about the relations between Indian rulers and Egyptian caliphs. (2) Although some of the sultans in Delhi tried to legitimize their rule with official caliphal recognition, obstacles to a critical understanding of royal authority still remain. Legends stamped on coins and inscriptions cut on stone may seem like solid evidence of the terms by which a ruler claimed authoritative status, nevertheless, if coins and inscriptions are the only evidence available, we can only assume that the ruler himself claimed his status in those precise terms. And of course, coins and inscriptions tell us nothing about how users and readers, not to mention the general population, responded to the claims made. But what about textual evidence? Historians, scholars, and literati writing in India in Persian made elaborate statements about the cosmic status of rulers, their role in serving not the purposes of man, as proposed by man, but the purposes of God, as conveyed to man in revelation and through the body of divine precept and commandment, Islamic law (sharīʿa). We must emphasize that at times these statements referred to the office of kingship, without, on their own, confirming that a particular ruler actually fulfilled his proper role. Other authors, however, praise the ruler under which they lived in terms that suggest that he was, in fact, satisfactory. We have to keep in mind that authors often present us with highly-stylized, moralizing representations of events, in order to consciously or unconsciously keep them consonant with the religious and ethical postures and traditions of those authors.

Bibliography Primary Sources (Handwritten) Anonymous, Sīrat-i Fīrūz Shāhī, MS 283116, London, SOAS.

39

Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā x, 129–34; Ibn Ḥijja, Das Rauschgetränk 428–34. For alQalqashandī, see Spies, Ein Investiturschreiben; and for Ibn Ḥijja, Veselý, Vorwort.

636

conermann and kollatz

Primary Sources (Printed) ʿAfīf, Tārīkh-i Fīrūz Shāhī, ed. M. Husain, Calcutta 1891. Badr-i Chāch, Qaṣāʾid, Kanpur n.d. Bārānī, Tārīkh-i Fīrūz Shāhī, ed. S.A. Khan, Calcutta 1862. Fīrūz Shāh, Futūḥāt-i Fīrūz Shāhī, ed. N.B. Ray, in Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society of Bengal 7 (1941), 65–89; trans. N.B. Ray, in IC 15 (1941), 449–69. Ibn Abī l-Faḍāʾil, al-Nahj al-sadīd wa-l-durr al-farīd, ed. and trans. S. Kortantamer, Wiesbaden 1973. Ibn Aybak al-Dawādārī, Kanz al-durar wa-jāmiʿ al-ghurar, vol. 8, ed. S. ʿĀshūr, Cairo 1971. Ibn Baṭṭūṭa, Riḥla, ed. K. al-Bustānī, Beirut 1960. Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, al-Taʿrīf bi-l-muṣṭalaḥ al-sharīf, Cairo 1894. Ibn Ḥijja, Das Rauschgetränk der Stilkunst oder Qahwat al-inšāʾ von Taqīyuddīn Abū Bakr. b. ʿAlī Ibn Ḥiǧǧa al-Ḥamawī al-Azrārī, ed. R. Veselý, Beirut and Berlin 2005. Jūzjānī, Ṭabaqāt-i Nāṣirī, ed. W.N. Lees et al., Calcutta 1863–4. al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk li-maʿrifat duwal al-mulūk, ed. M.M. Ziyāda and S.ʿA. al-F. ʿĀshūr, 4 vols., Cairo 1934–73. al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā fī ṣināʿat al-inshāʾ, ed. M.ʿA. al-R. Ibrāhīm, 14 vols., Cairo 1913–9, 21963.

Secondary Sources Ahmed, A., Studies in Islamic culture in the Indian environment, Oxford 1964. al-Azmeh, A., Muslim kingship: Power and the sacred in Muslim, Christian and pagan polities, London and New York 1997. Arnold, T.W., The caliphate, London 1924. Auer, B.H., Symbols of authority in medieval Islam, New York 1924. Banister, M., The Abbasid caliphate of Cairo (659–923/1261–1517): History and tradition in the Mamluk court. PhD dissertation, University of Toronto 2015. Burton-Page, J., Gud̲ ja̲ rāt, in EI2, ii, 1123a–30b. Clegg, S.R. and M. Haugaard, Introduction: Why power is the central concept of the social sciences, in Clegg and Haugaard (eds.), The sage handbook of power, London 2009, 1–24. Clegg, S.R. et al., Power and organization, London 2006. Conermann, S., Die Beschreibung Indiens in der “Riḥla” des Ibn Baṭṭūṭa. Aspekte einer herrschaftssoziologischen Einordnung des Delhi-Sultanates unter Muḥammad Ibn Tuġluq, Berlin 1993. Crone, P., Medieval political thought, Edinburgh 2004. Ernst, C., Eternal garden: Mysticism, history and politics at a South Asian Sufi center, Albany 1992. Hambly, G., From Baghdad to Bukhara, from Ghazna to Delhi: The khilʿa ceremony in the transmission of kingly pomp and circumstance, in M.S. Gordon (ed.), Robes and honor: The medieval world of investiture, New York 2001, 193–222.

diplomatic relations between cairo, delhi, and aḥmadābād

637

Han, B.-Ch., Was ist Macht?, Stuttgart 2005. Hardy, P., The authority of Muslim kings in medieval India, in M. Gaborieau (ed.), Islam et société en Asie du Sud, Paris 1986, 35–55. Hardy, P., The duty of the sultan (in the sultanate period) to further the material welfare of his subjects, in W.D. O’Flatherty and J.D.M. Jerret (eds.), The concept of duty in South Asia, New Delhi 1978, 147–65. Haugaard, M., The constitution of power: A theoretical analysis of power, knowledge and structure, Manchester and New York 1997. Holt, P.M., Some observations on the ʿAbbāsid caliphate of Cairo, in BSOAS 47 (1984), 501–7. Holt, P.M., The position and power of the Mamluk sultan, in BSOAS 38 (1975), 237–49. Jackson, P., The Delhi sultanate: A political and military history, Cambridge 1999. Jackson, P., The Mongols and the Delhi sultanate in the reign of Muḥammad Tughluq (1325–1351), in CAJ 22 (1975), 186–244. Levanoni, A., The Mamluk conception of the sultanate, in IJMES 26 (1994), 373–92. Lukes, S. (ed.), Power, New York 1986. Mann, M., The sources of social power, 2 vols., Cambridge 1986–93. Maurer, A., Herrschaft. Theoretische Perspektiven, Analysen und Forschungsfelder, in Erwägen—Wissen—Ethik 17 (2006), 93–104. Maurer, A., Herrschaftssoziologie. Eine Einführung, Frankfurt/M. and New York 2004. Nizami, K.A., On history and historians in medieval India, New Delhi 1983. Qureshi, I.H., The administration of the sultanate of Delhi, Lahore 21944. Rosenthal, E., Political thought in medieval Islam, Cambridge 1958. Schimmel, A., Kalif und Kadi im spätmittelalterlichen Ägypten, in Die Welt des Islams 24 (1942), 1–128. Scott, J., Power, Cambridge 2001. Spies, O., Ein Investiturschreiben des abbasidischen Kalifen in Kairo an einen indischen König, in S.M. Abdullah (ed.), Professor Muḥammad Shafi‘ presentation volume, Lahore 1955, 240–53. Thomas, E., The chronicles of the Pathan kings of Delhi, London 1871. Weber, M., Wirtschaft und Gesellschaft. Grundriss der verstehenden Soziologie, Tübingen 1922/1972. Wright, H.N., The coinage and metrology of the sultans of Delhi, Oxford 1936. Veselý, R., Vorwort, in Das Rauschgetränk der Stilkunst oder Qahwat al-inšāʾvon Taqīyuddīn Abū Bakr. b. ʿAlī Ibn Ḥiǧǧa al-Ḥamawī al-Azrārī, ed. R. Veselý, Beirut and Berlin 2005.

chapter 20

The Ḥaṭī and the Sultan: Letters and Embassies from Abyssinia to the Mamluk Court Julien Loiseau

Mamluk Cairo may well have been a major diplomatic crossroads, highly frequented by foreign embassies, but streets were nonetheless crowded on that day of Muḥarram 922/February 1516, especially by Coptic Christians, who went out to look at the display of a delegation that had just arrived from Abyssinia. Almost six hundred people pitched their tents near the Lions’ Bridges (Qanāṭir al-sibāʿ) as the embassy traveled down the main street of the Ṣalība up to the citadel. The Jacobite patriarch came with the procession, which was escorted by the mihmandār. According to Ibn Iyās, who attended the event, the public’s curiosity was easy to explain: “It had been a very long time since Abyssinian emissaries came to Egypt,” thirty-five years to be precise since the embassy received by Sultan Qāytbāy (r. 872–901/1468–96) in 886/1481. Two facts explain this lengthy absence in the eyes of the chronicler: “Their country is far away and they do not have any issue to address in Egypt (mā la-hum shughl fī Miṣr).” With respect to the distance, one can only agree with his statement: the journey of the 922/1516 embassy was supposed to last nine months from Abyssinia to Egypt. But it is incorrect to assert that the Abyssinians lacked diplomatic interest in their relations with the Mamluks and it is not surprising that Ibn Iyās’s claim was refuted by the details of his own narrative.1 Diplomatic relations between the king of the Abyssinians and the sultan of Cairo were indeed far older than the two dawlas they embodied. The dynasty which reigned at that time over the highlands of Ethiopia was established in 1270 by the lord of Shāwa, Yekuno Amlāk (r. 1270–85), who overthrew the Zagwe kings just ten years after al-Ẓāhir Baybars (r. 658–76/1260–77) ascended to the throne. But the first embassy dispatched by Yekuno Amlāk, which actually suc-

1 Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr v, 10–2. The issue of the diplomatic relations between kings of the Abyssinians and Mamluk sultans was studied as early as the beginning of the nineteenth century. See Quatremère, Mémoire. Yet, since the survey published in 1938 by Gaston Wiet, it has not received the attention it deserves, with the exception of the recent work of Qāsim ʿAbduh Qāsim. Wiet, Les Relations; Qāsim, ʿAlāqāt Miṣr. The following remarks are a first reassessment of the issue based on a work in progress.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2019 | doi:10.1163/9789004384637_021

the ḥaṭī and the sultan

639

ceeded in reaching Cairo in 673/1274, carried on relationships that dated to the introduction of Christianity in Abyssinia during the fourth century CE. It is therefore necessary to return to an examination of the motives of the regular dispatch of letters and even embassies by the king of the Abyssinians. This Christian king was indeed well known in Mamluk sources, in which he was called malik al-Ḥabasha, sometimes ṣāḥib bilād Amḥara or al-Amḥarī, and more often the ḥaṭī, i.e., the Arabic transcription of a Ge’ez title that Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir (d. 692/1293), the private secretary of sultans Baybars and Qalāwūn (r. 678–89/1279–90), explained as follows: “ḥaṭī, yaʿnī l-khalīfa.”2

1

Abyssinian Issues in Mamluk Cairo

The first and foremost motive of diplomatic relations between the ḥaṭī and the sultan was the subordination of the Abyssinian church to the patriarchal see of Alexandria. It is well known that the metropolitan of Abyssinia (al-maṭrān) was normally chosen among the Egyptian monks and appointed by the Jacobite patriarch. This subordination has prevailed from the fourth century up to 1951, even if the metropolitan was not always able to reach his bishopric.3 The Mamluk chancery was well aware of the situation in the 730s/1330s, as it appears in the Taʿrīf of Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī (d. 749/1349): As the doctrine of the Jacobite Christians provides that baptism should not be valid if not implemented by the patriarch and as the patriarch’s see is the church of Alexandria, the lord of the Amḥara has to ask him for the appointment of metropolitans one after the other. Such a correspondence is offensive for him, but he is compelled to make the request. What the patriarch commands him, he accepts with the same respect that [he has for] his own law (sharīʿatihi).4 The king of the Abyssinians thus used to dispatch letters and embassies to Cairo, where the patriarch was settled, in order to seek from him the appointment of a metropolitan, and also to request from the sultan permission to do so. By definition, the relationships between Abyssinia and Egypt involved three partners. Besides the official diplomacy, the ḥaṭī and the patriarch had their

2 Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir 431; Gori, Sugli Incipit delle missive. 3 Taklahaymanot, The Egyptian metropolitan. 4 Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, al-Taʿrīf 49.

640

loiseau

own correpondence, which the sultan could not control except by means of intimidation; and he was sometimes eager to exploit this in his relations with Abyssinia.5 In addition to the ecclesiological motive, which was ancient and enduring, historical circumstances peculiar to the Mamluk period contributed to enhance diplomatic relations between the ḥaṭī and the sultan. Abyssinian monks had been settling in Jerusalem from at least 634–5/1237 when evidence of their presence was first provided.6 From 659/1261 onward, the holy city had been under the sovereignty of the sultan of Cairo; this only ceased to be the case in Dhū l-Qaʿda 922/December 1516. Jerusalem was therefore among the issues addressed by Abyssinian letters and embassies, either to request the transit of cultural items for the monks settled in the holy city, to require permission to (re)build places of burial and worship, or to grant the provision for entering the Holy Sepulchre without paying taxes.7 Most of the Abyssinian embassies dispatched to Cairo might have continued on their way to Jerusalem before coming back home. This was indeed the first intent of the embassy of 689/1290, which was carrying various items (carpets, candels, lamps, sacerdotal garments) for the Abyssinian monks in Jerusalem.8 However, we have evidence about the embassies of 847/1443, 886/1481, and 922/1516, the arrival of which was well noticed in the holy city.9 Another issue was the king’s claim to protect places of worship and the community interests of the Coptic Christians in Egypt, and the sultan’s pretension to safeguard the Muslims in Abyssinia. Indeed, conversions of Coptic Christians to Islam and the Islamization of the Egyptian landscape and society increased at the end of the eighth/thirteenth century. In the early 720s/1320s, anti-Christian riots led to the destruction of numerous churches and monasteries in Cairo and around the country. Hence these dramatic events were the main issue of the Abyssinian embassy dispatched to Cairo in 726/1325: On Monday, the sixteenth of the month of Muḥarram [23 December], the envoys of the king of the Abyssinians arrived with a letter in which he requested, with respect and reverence, the restoration of the churches 5 In 852/1448, the patriarch was prohibited by al-Ẓāhir Jaqmaq (r. 842–57/1438–53) from sending either a letter or an emissary to Abyssinia without his permission. Al-Sakhāwī, al-Tibr al-masbūk ii, 81. 6 Van Donzel, The Ethiopian presence 94. 7 Cerulli, Etiopi in Palestina i, 76–409; Van Donzel, The Ethiopian presence 95–9; O’Mahony, Between Islam and Christendom 148–53. 8 Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, Tashrīf al-ayyām 170–3; Van Donzel, The Ethiopian presence 95. 9 Plante, The Ethiopian embassy 139–40; al-ʿUlaymī, al-Uns al-jalīl ii, 326; Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ alzuhūr v, 12.

the ḥaṭī and the sultan

641

and workshops of the Christians that had been ruined. He threatened in turn to ruin the mosques of the Muslims in his vicinity, and to block the Nile in order to prevent it from flowing through Egypt. The sultan scorned [the king’s claim] and his envoys went back.10 However, the ḥaṭī would not have positioned himself as a champion of the Coptic community and threatened in turn to target Muslim places of worship in Abyssinia, if Islamization had not critically increased at the same period in the Horn of Africa. It is well known that Islam was introduced in the area even before the hijra to Medina, when some of the Prophet’s companions took temporary exile at the court of the “Najāshī,” the Christian king of Aksum, in 615.11 It is less known that there is epigraphic evidence of Muslim communities in the highlands of Abyssinia and in the Tigray (in northeast Ethiopia) from the fourth/tenth century onward.12 According to a late taʾrīkh, the first Islamic polity came into being in the area south of the Christian kingdom, in the province of Shāwa, perhaps as early as the fourth/tenth century under the Makhzumid dynasty. In the late 670s/1270s, the conquest of the sultanate of Shāwa by the Walasmaʿ gave rise to a new polity based in Īfāt, in the eastern escarpment of the highlands; this was a vassal of, and a serious threat to, the Christian kingdom until the 820s/1420s.13 In 856/1452, the diplomatic game between Abyssinia and Egypt was complicated by the arrival in Cairo of an embassy dispatched by the malik muslimī l-Ḥabasha, also called the ṣāḥib Jabart (the collective name of the native Muslims of the Horn of Africa) or al-Jabartī, who was a descendant of the Walasmaʿ from then on in the area of Harar.14

2

Abyssinian Embassies, Arabic Sources

Evidence of diplomatic relations between the Mamluks and foreign polities is sometimes much better preserved outside Cairo, in the manuscripts or documents kept by their former correspondents. Royal chronicles in Ge’ez preserved 10

11 12 13 14

Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk ii/1, 270. The legend of the Abyssinians’ ability to block or dry the Nile spread from Arabic sources to both Ge’ez and Latin texts during the thirteenth century. The issue is currently being studied in France by B. Weber, together with M.-L. Derat, J. Loiseau, and R. Seignobos. Al-Ṭayyib, Hijrat al-Ḥabasha. Fauvelle and Hirsch, Muslim historical spaces 30–31; Bauden, Inscriptions arabes 297–9; Loiseau, Two unpublished Arabic inscriptions. Cerulli, La storia della dinastia; Cerulli, Il sultanato. Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Nujūm al-zāhira xv, 441; al-Sakhāwī, al-Tibr al-masbūk iv, 15; Ullendorff, D̲ j̲abart.

642

loiseau

some pieces of evidence related to the arrival of envoys dispatched by the patriarch of Alexandria, and also works on military retaliation against the Mamluks, as for instance the raids of Sayfa Arʿad’s (r. 1344–72) army in Upper Egypt after the arrest of the patriarch Marcos IV (r. 1348–63) in 1352.15 In annals compiled later in Abyssinia one finds brief mentions of the departure and return of royal envoys to Jerusalem, who might have been first dispatched to Cairo.16 But not a single Ge’ez text explicitly records embassies or letters sent by the ḥaṭī to the Mamluk court. In 851/1447, King Zar’a Yā’eqob (r. 1434–68) sent a letter to the Abyssinian monks of Jerusalem, enclosed with the Ge’ez manuscript of the Synodicon intended for them and now preserved in the Vatican library (MS Vat. Borg Aeth. 32): this is the only Ge’ez document related to the Mamluk sultanate discovered so far.17 It is also known that the correspondence between the ḥaṭī and the Egyptian patriarch was, at least partly, in Ge’ez at that time. The Abyssinian embassy of 689/1290 carried two Ge’ez letters to Cairo, one for the patriarch and the other for the Abyssinian monks of Jerusalem, the substance of which was recorded in Arabic by Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, who was at that time the sultan’s private secretary.18 But as yet no original document of this parallel diplomacy has been identified. Therefore, our knowledge of the diplomatic relations between the ḥaṭī and the sultan comes almost exclusively from Arabic sources (chronicles, eulogies, chancery manuals) compiled in Cairo, with the exception of a few European testimonies. In 1444, the Franciscan custos of the Holy Land, Gandulph of Sicily, drafted for the papacy a report on the Abyssinian embassy dispatched to Cairo the previous year; the detailed account was provided to him by the envoys who continued their journey to go on pilgrimage to Jerusalem.19 Later, the pilgrim Georges Lengherand (fl. 15th c.) inserted in his travel relation an account of the Abyssinian embassy to Sultan Qāytbāy, based on the testimony of a Venetian who attended the event in Cairo.20 Despite several exaggerations, these testimonies confirm the core of the account provided by the Cairene chroniclers for the embassies of 847/1443 and 886/1481. But these reports are not enough to mitigate the effects of the disparity in the evidence available. The views of 15 16 17 18 19

20

Perruchon, Récit 177–8, 181; Cuoq, L’ Islam 179–80. Cerulli, Etiopi in Palestina i, 241, 391–3. Euringer, Ein angeblicher Brief; Mekouria, Le Roi; O’Mahony, Between Islam and Christendom 150. Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, Tashrīf al-ayyām 172–3; Cerulli, Etiopi in Palestina i, 88–90. The document was first published by Wadding, Annales minorum xi, 53–4. An amended version, based on a new manuscript, has been published by Plante, The Ethiopian embassy. Lengherand, Voyage 185–8.

643

the ḥaṭī and the sultan

our sources are mainly that of the Mamluk court or Muslim chroniclers who used to move in Mamluk households. The relative decline of the Coptic-Arabic historiography after the middle of the seventh/fourteenth century makes the disparity even more significant.21 However, this does not alter the reliability of Cairene chroniclers who took care to record, more or less accurately, the substance of the words exchanged during the reception of the embassies and even, on four occasions, part of the text of the letter read before the sultan in the name of the ḥaṭī (see references in the table below). The text of a fifth letter, sent in 788/1387 by King Dāwit (r. 1382– 1413) to Sultan Barqūq (r. 784–91/1382–89; 792–801/1390–9), was likely lost from the end of the eleventh/seventeenth century, provided that Père Vansleb (d. 1679) was truthful in claiming to have come across a copy of the letter while collecting Arabic manuscripts in Egypt for the Royal Library of Louis XIV.22 table 20.1 Abyssinian letters and embassies to Mamluk Cairo: a survey

Date

Event

Primary sources

Between embassy sent by Yekuno Amlāk to the Mam669/1270 and luk sultan, stopped and plundered on its way 673/1274 by the malik of Saḥart

Ibn Abī l-Faḍāʾil, al-Najh al-sadīd xiv/3, 387

673/1274

letter (partly preserved) sent by Yekuno Amlāk to al-Ẓāhir Baybars through the Rasulid sultan al-Muẓaffar Yūsuf, announcing the delay of the awaited embassy because of dynastic changes and military campaigns

Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ alzāhir 430–1; Baybars al-Manṣūrī, Zubdat al-fikra 144; al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab xxx, 211–3; Ibn Abī l-Faḍāʾil, al-Najh al-sadīd xiv/3, 384–6; al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā viii, 119–20

689/1290

letter (partly preserved) sent by Yagbe’a Ṣeyon to al-Manṣūr Qalāwūn announcing an embassy that was delayed because of its leader’s death in ʿAydhāb; arrival in Cairo of the envoys with letters for the sultan (one of two partly preserved), the patriarch (partly preserved), and Abyssinian monks in Jerusalem (partly preserved)

Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, Tashrīf alayyām 170–3

21 22

den Heijer, Coptic Historiography 88–98. Vansleb, Nouvelle Relation 60, quoted by Wiet, Les Relations 134.

644

loiseau

Table 20.1 Abyssinian letters and embassies to Mamluk Cairo: a survey (cont.)

Date

Event

Primary sources

712/1312–3

(alleged?) embassy sent to al-Nāṣir MuḥamIbn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr v, 12 mad with a present worth over 100,000 dinars

726/1325

embassy sent by ‘Amda Ṣeyon to al-Nāṣir Muḥammad with a letter

737/1336

al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk ii/2, 410; Ibn embassy sent by ʿAmda Ṣeyon to al-Nāṣir Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, Masālik Muḥammad; ʿAbdallāh al-Zaylaʿī, who was the source of Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī’s knowl- al-abṣār iv, 37, 39, 49 edge about Abyssinia, likely belonged to the delegation

753/1352

letter sent by Sayfa Arʿad to al-Ṣāliḥ Ṣāliḥ

Ibn Nāẓir al-Jaysh, Tathqīf altaʿrīf 31

788/1387

embassy sent by Dāwit to al-Ẓāhir Barqūq with a letter; Vansleb claimed to have found a copy of the letter

al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iii/2, 555; Ibn al-Ṣayrafī, Nuzhat al-nufūs i, 145; Vansleb, Nouvelle Relation 60

Between 801/1399 and 815/1412

letter sent by Dāwit to al-Nāṣir Faraj? Good Ibn al-Ṣayrafī, Nuzhat al-nufūs relationships between the two kings are noted iv, 285; al-Sakhāwī, al-Tibr alin the letter of Zar’a Yā’eqob in 847/1443 masbūk i, 167

841/1437

embassy and letter sent by Zar’a Yā’eqob to al-Ashraf Barsbāy

al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iv/2, 1024; Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr iv, 69

847/1443

embassy and letter (partly preserved) sent by Zar’a Yā’eqob to al-Ẓāhir Jaqmaq; the envoys continued on their way to Jerusalem

Ibn al-Ṣayrafī, Nuzhat al-nufūs iv, 281–8; al-Sakhāwī, al-Tibr almasbūk i, 164–73; Plante, The Ethiopian embassy 133–40

857/1453

embassy sent by Zar’a Yā’eqob to al-Ẓāhir Jaqmaq; envoys arrived in Cairo eighteen days after the death of the sultan

Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Nujūm alzāhira xvi, 33; al-Sakhāwī, al-Tibr al-masbūk iv, 87

al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk ii/1, 270

645

the ḥaṭī and the sultan Table 20.1 Abyssinian letters and embassies to Mamluk Cairo: a survey (cont.)

Date

Event

Primary sources

886/1481

embassy sent by Eskender to al-Ashraf Qāytbāy; the envoys continued on their way to Jerusalem

Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iii, 179– 80; al-ʿUlaymī, al-Uns al-jalīl ii, 326; Lengherand, Voyage 185–8

922/1516

embassy sent by Dāwit II to al-Ashraf Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī with a letter; the envoys continued on their way to Jerusalem

Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr v, 10–2

Over a period of almost 250 years, Abyssinian kings dispatched eleven embassies to the Mamluk court, among which the first never succeeded in reaching Cairo but was intercepted on its way by the malik of Saḥart (northern Abyssinia) who had rebelled against the ḥaṭī. All embassies likely brought letters to the sultan: evidence is provided in six occasions and the text of four letters is partly preserved by Mamluk chroniclers. In addition, two letters for certain, and perhaps a third one, were sent by the ḥaṭī without envoys. However, two of these fourteen diplomatic events are questionable, as the evidence for them relies on later references: first, the embassy of 712/1312–3 was only mentioned in 922/1516—it was famous until that time for the splendid present that was delivered to the munificent Sultan al-Nāṣir Muḥammad (r. 693–4/1293–4, 698–708/1299–1309, 709–41/1310–41); second, the precise nature of the relationships between the haṭī and the sultan (an exchange of letters?) during the reign of al-Nāṣir Faraj (r. 801–8/1399–1405, 808–15/1405–12), whose friendship was noted in the letter of Zar’a Yā’eqob in 847/1443, is not clear. Abyssinian kings used to dispatch letters and embassies to Cairo with a high degree of regularity throughout the Mamluk period. The longest term without contact was perhaps fifty years, between the embassies of 788/1387 and 841/1437, provided that no letter actually arrived in Cairo under the reign of al-Nāṣir Faraj. That time coincided with unrest in the Abyssinian kingdom that ensued from the perilous succession of King Dāwit and King Yesḥāq’s (r. 1414– 29) fight against the Muslim kinglets of Īfāt. Conversely, three peaks of diplomatic activity can be identified. The first one took place under the long and simultaneous reigns of ʿAmda Ṣeyon (1314–42) and (the third reign of) al-Nāṣir Muḥammad (709–41/1310–41). Two Abyssinian embassies were dispatched to Cairo over an eleven-year period, in 726/1325 and 737/1336, one after anti-Christian riots in Egypt, the other after the king’s

646

loiseau

retaliation against Muslims in eastern Ethiopia. The second peak of diplomatic activity happened in the 780s/1380s, after rumors of Abyssinian incursions in Upper Egypt. In 783/1381, the great amir Barqūq, acting in the name of the young Sultan al-Ṣāliḥ Ḥājjī (r. 783–4/1381–2), urged the Jacobite patriarch to dispatch envoys, then to send a letter to the ḥaṭī, to establish what actually happened and to convince the king to stop the raids. At the same time Barqūq decided to send his own emissary, a certain Ibrāhīm al-Dimyāṭī, who only returned in 787/1384. The latter was among the sources of al-Maqrīzī’s short treatise on Abyssinia, the Kitāb al-Ilmām.23 Three years later, Abyssinian envoys arrived in Cairo to restore confidence between King Dāwit and (the new) Sultan Barqūq. The 788/1387 embassy was important in the long-term history of diplomatic relations between Abyssinia and Egypt. Half a century later, it was noted in the letter of Zar’a Yā’eqob as an auspicious precedent and the origin of the friendship between the ḥaṭī and the sultan. The former was again worthy of the title of ṣadīq al-mulūk wa-l-salāṭīn, which was customarily given to the Abyssinian king by the Mamluk chancery.24 The third peak in diplomatic activity occurred under the reign of Zar’a Yā’eqob, who dispatched three embassies to Cairo: in 841/1437 to al-Ashraf Barsbāy (r. 825–41/1422–38), in 847/1443 and 857/1453 to al-Ẓāhir Jaqmaq. The diplomatic activity of this ambitious king was not restricted to the Mamluks but extended to Europe and the papacy, as during the Council of Florence to which he commissioned a delegation from Jerusalem in 1441.25 The embassy of 841/1437 took place after probably half a century without any contact with Cairo. According to the letter sent six years later, Zar’a Yā’eqob wished at that time “to renew the agreement (ʿahd) and the affection (mawadda)” that had prevailed between King Dāwit, his father, and Sultan Barqūq until their deaths.26 But the embassy seemed to have been mainly justified by the recent death of the metropolitan: according to the usual procedure the king’s letter requested permission from the sultan for the patriarch to send a new deputy.27 Does this mean that no metropolitan had been dispatched to Abyssinia since 23

24

25 26 27

Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr i, 232–3; al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iii/2, 445, 447, 515; al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā v, 333; Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Manhal al-ṣāfī ii, 359; al-Maqrīzī, al-Ilmām. A critical edition of al-Maqrīzī’s Kitāb al-Ilmām bi-akhbār man bi-arḍ al-Ḥubsh min mulūk al-islām is to be published by Manfred Kropp in the Bibliotheca Maqriziana. Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, al-Taʿrīf 49; Ibn Nāẓir al-Jaysh, Tathqīf al-taʿrīf 30; al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā viii, 40; al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim ii, 828; Gori, Sugli incipit delle missive. The formula was actually used in the letter sent in 673/1274 in the name of al-Ẓāhir Baybars in reply to the previous letter of the ḥaṭī. Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, Tashrīf alayyām 171. Lefevre, Presenze; Weber, La Bulle. Al-Sakhāwī, al-Tibr al-masbūk i, 168. Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr iv, 69.

the ḥaṭī and the sultan

647

the death of King Dāwit in 1413? On the other hand, the sultan’s policies with respect to Christian communities in Egypt and Palestine, referred to in very general terms in the letter of 841/1437, must have prompted the two other embassies. The letter presented to Sultan Jaqmaq in 847/1443 officially protested against the destruction of a Coptic monastery in the Delta, Dayr al-Maghṭis or Dayr al-Ghaṭs, that had been ordered in 841/1438 by his predecessor al-Ashraf Barsbāy; he therefore requested permission to rebuild it.28 The king also requested that Abyssinian monks be allowed to build (an altar in the church of) Mary’s tomb in Gethsemane, and to resume building a place of burial for their dead after the Mamluk governor had prohibited them from doing so. In this respect, Zar’a Yā’eqob complained about the unequal treatment of the Christian communities in Jerusalem, and claimed that Latins and Georgians were recently granted the right to build anew in the holy city.29 Six years later, in 857/1453, the third embassy of Zar’a Yā’eqob arrived in Cairo in times of trouble, eighteen days after the death of Sultan al-Ẓāhir Jaqmaq; this was certainly the reason Cairene chroniclers did not pay attention to its claims. But this embassy might have been prompted by recent events in Jerusalem that reflected a change in policy toward the Christians that might have affected the Abyssinians, i.e., the destruction of some Franciscans’ buildings and tombs on Mount Sion eight months earlier in Jumādā I 856/June 1452.30 Indeed, a few years later evidence was provided that the Abyssinians had taken possession of the shrine of the Cave of David, the place where the Biblical king was supposed to have composed the Penitential Psalms, also located on Mount Sion.31 Zar’a Yā’eqob may have wished to secure Abyssinian holdings on Mount Sion by dispatching an embassy to Cairo in 857/1453. After that date, and after an interval of three decades, only two embassies sent by the ḥaṭī were mentioned, one in 886/1481 and the second in 922/1516 on the eve of the Ottoman conquest of Egypt. Our knowledge of these diplomatic events is very uneven. The embassy of 726/1325 is only known thanks to al-Maqrīzī, who later described it in a few words; yet the embassy of 847/1443 is documented by three contemporary wit28 29

30 31

Al-Sakhāwī, al-Tibr al-masbūk i, 169; Coquin, Dayr al-Maghṯis. Indeed, between 1430 and 1435, a chapel was built inside the round church of the Holy Sepulchre for the use of the Franciscan friars. Suriano, Il trattato 31–2, quoted by van Donzel, The Ethiopian presence 103, note 17. During the same period, we know that the Georgians controlled, among many other shrines in the city and its vicinity, the place inside the Holy Sepulchre where Christ was supposed to have been wrapped in linen for burial. Van Donzel, The Ethiopian presence 97; Abu-Manneh, The Georgians 106–7. Al-ʿUlaymī, al-Uns al-jalīl ii, 97–8. Van Donzel, The Ethiopian presence 98–9.

648

loiseau

nesses. Despite the disparity in the evidence, one can clarify to some extent the way in which Abyssinian embassies were dispatched to Cairo.

3

The Journey to Egypt

It is hardly surprising that, as far as we know, the embassies’ journey to Egypt was lengthy and uncertain. In 847/1443, the embassy arrived in Cairo four months after its departure. In 922/1516, the journey was said to have lasted nine months.32 In 1520, Francesco Alvares, the chaplain of the Portuguese detachment to Abyssinia, noted that pilgrims used to leave the country at Epiphany in order to be in Jerusalem during the Holy Week, which means that their journey was about three months long on average. That year, the caravan was attacked by Bedouins, and only fifteen pilgrims succeeded in escaping.33 In the early 670s/1270s, the first embassy of Yekuno Amlāk never reached its destination.34 These journey times are somehow confirmed by the account of Mamluk embassies in Abyssinia. The emissary of Sultan Jaqmaq came back four years after he was dispatched; he had been detained by his host while fighting a Muslim kinglet in eastern Ethiopia.35 On the other hand, the emissary of Sultan Barqūq, who spent three years journeying to Abyssinia and back, did not experience similar misfortunes.36 The travel route of Abyssinian embassies might have changed during the Mamluk period. According to Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, in the second half of the seventh/thirteenth century, “The route toward Amḥarā goes through the city of ʿAwān, which is the anchorage (sāḥil) of the country of the Abyssinians.”37 This harbor, which might be identified with the modern site of Assab north of the straits of Bāb al-Mandab, on the Red Sea coast, acquired increasing importance in the course of the seventh/thirteenth century as a result of the decline of the Dahlak archipelago.38 Until the end of the eighth/fourteenth century, Abyssinian embassies probably sailed from ʿAwān, either to continue up the African coast to Suwākin or to cross the Red Sea in order to reach the Hijaz through Yemeni harbors and to cross the sea again at the Egyptian port of

32 33 34 35 36 37 38

Plante, The Ethiopian embassy 138; Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr v, 12. Van Donzel, The Ethiopian presence 100. Ibn Abī l-Faḍāʾil, al-Najh al-sadīd xiv/3, 387. Al-Sakhāwī, al-Tibr al-masbūk i, 170–1. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk iii/2, 515. Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir 431. Vallet, L’ Arabie marchande 401–2.

the ḥaṭī and the sultan

649

ʿAydhāb. In both cases, they reached the Nile Valley at Qūṣ and went down the river to Cairo.39 The Yemeni route seems to have predominated during the second half of the seventh/thirteenth century. In 673/1274, the ḥaṭī claimed in his letter that the customary gifts expected on the occasion of the metropolitan’s appointment would be entrusted to the care of the Rasulid sultan alMuẓaffar Yūsuf (r. 647–94/1250–95). In 689/1290, two letters were received at the same time in Cairo: one from the ḥaṭī, asking for the appointment of a new metropolitan; the other from the same Rasulid sultan, indicating the arrival in his kingdom of an Abyssinian embassy on its way to Egypt. Later in the year, the Mamluk court received news of the death of the Abyssinian emissary in ʿAydhāb, where he had arrived from Mecca. But one century later, the Latin itinerary from Venice to Abyssinia (Iter de Venetiis ad Indiam, circa 1400) illustrated that the land route through ʿAydhāb and Suwākin to “Adam” (ʿAwān?) was familiar to Abyssinian monks and envoys.40 Evidence is missing, however, on the routes of ninth-/fifteenth-century Abyssinian embassies. We only know that in 847/1443 before reaching his destination, the leader of the envoys “left fifty of [his men] in Upper Egypt with the supplies for the journey.”41 However, all the itineraries from Abyssinia to Cairo or Jerusalem, collected in Venice by Alessandro Zorzi thanks to native informants (ca. 1520), went by land through Suwākin and the eastern desert before going down the Nile. In 1520, the pilgrim caravan reported by Alvares followed the same route.42 The southern itinerary to Cairo survived the “mediterraneization” of the Mamluk sultanate, at least for conveying Abyssinian embassies.43

4

The Ḥaṭī’s Two Emissaries

Cairene chroniclers are more talkative about the composition of Abyssinian delegations. According to Ibn Iyās (d. 930/1524), the 922/1516 embassy included about six hundred people, among which only seven were received in the courtyard (al-ḥawsh) of the citadel: the head of the envoys (al-qāṣid al-kabīr), five chief officers (min aʿyān umarāʾ al-Ḥabasha) and “a noble person” (wa-dhakarū

39 40 41 42 43

Garcin, Un centre musulman 220–2. Ethiopian itineraries 28–39 (where “Adam” is located inland); Garcin, Un centre musulman 222. Plante, The Ethiopian embassy 138. Ethiopian itineraries 124–31 (Iter I, from Axum to Cairo), 132–7 (Iter II, from Barara to Jerusalem). Garcin, La ‘Méditerranéisation.’

650

loiseau

anna fīhim shakhṣan sharīfan), maybe a member of the royal family. This high number may be better explained by the final destination of the embassy, i.e., the pilgrimage in Jerusalem, than by an exaggeration of the chronicler. This compared with the 847/1443 embassy, the leader of which entered Cairo with one hundred and fifty men “of his household,” after “having left fifty [others] in Upper Egypt.” In 1520, according to Alvares, the caravan to Jerusalem was supposed to include (the symbolic number of) 336 pilgrims.44 As one might expect, embassies were most often led by a dignitary chosen from among the Abyssinian nobility. In 922/1516, people in Cairo said that the head of the envoys was “the son of a chief officer of the Abyssinians and that his father was the one who came during the reign of al-Ashraf Qāytbāy.” A brief mention of the Annals of ‘Addi Na’amen, later compiled in Ge’ez, reported that “in the year 168 of God’s mercy [1514–5], the son of ‘Amda Mikā’ēl went to Jerusalem by order of the king.” ‘Amda Mikā’ēl was one of the most important figures of Eskender’s reign (1478–94) and might have been the royal envoy dispatched to Cairo in 1481.45 According to the same source, “in the year 94 of God’s mercy [1441–2], Ato Anbasā went to Jerusalem; in the year 96 of God’s mercy [1443–4], Ato Anbasā came back.” It would be tempting to assume that this unknown figure was also the king’s emissary received by Sultan Jaqmaq in 847/1443.46 We know however, thanks to Gandulph of Sicily, that the ḥaṭī’s envoy delivered his message to the sultan before asking “a certain Saracen from the tribe of the infamous Mahomet, whom he had brought with him for this purpose” to testify in Arabic “all that he had said.”47 The Franciscan custos did not report the names of the emissary and his spokesman. But they were mentioned in the body of Zar’a Yā’eqob’s letter as it was recorded by the chronicler Ibn al-Ṣayrafī (d. 900/1495): “And now We have sent envoys to Your Mightiness the Sultan. They are al-ḥājj al-jalīl ʿAbd al-Raḥmān, the amir ʿĪsā and others.”48 It is likely that this “amir ʿĪsā” was an Abyssinian dignitary whose Ge’ez name (Iyasu?) was transcribed into Arabic for the purpose of the letter. As for the deputy who gave his message in Arabic, he was not only a Muslim (as his name suggests), but was elsewhere described as a “trader” (tājir), and bore the nisba “al-Kārimī” as did merchants

44 45 46 47 48

Plante, The Ethiopian embassy 138; van Donzel, The Ethiopian presence 100. Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr v, 11; Kolmodin, Traditions 32, quoted by Cerulli, Etiopi in Palestina i, 393. Kolmodin, Traditions 31, quoted by Cerulli Etiopi in Palestina i, 241. Plante, The Ethiopian embassy 139. Ibn al-Ṣayrafī, Nuzhat al-nufūs iv, 287.

the ḥaṭī and the sultan

651

involved in the Red Sea trade between Egypt and Yemen.49 According to the letter of 847/1443, the embassy of 788/1387 was led in the same way by two emissaries: “My father Dāwūd had sent envoys to the Sultan al-Malik al-Ẓāhir Barqūq. They were al-Qāḍī ʿĪsā, Zaraʿ Hamnānūn, and others.”50 The former was an Arabic-speaking Muslim, probably not a judicial officer, given that “al-qāḍī” had become, at that time, a title easily given to any civil officer. The latter was an Abyssinian dignitary as his name suggests. The attendance of an Arabic-speaking Muslim in the delegation alongside the Abyssinian dignitary who led the embassy, could be explained at first sight by the requirement of mutual understanding. The two parties needed the words of the diplomatic agreement to be accurate. The role of ʿAbd al-Raḥmān al-Kārimī in the diplomatic protocol of 847/1443 was precisely to corroborate in Arabic the contents of the message delivered in Ge’ez by his Abyssinian counterpart. By contrast, the Mamluk court did not lack officers able to understand and speak the “language of the Abyssinians” (lughat al-Ḥabasha). Eunuchs of Abyssinian origin (ḥabashī l-jins) were particularly numerous and powerful in the citadel of Cairo; they lived either in the barracks or in the private palaces of the sultan.51 In the late 840s/1440s, the emissary of Sultan Jaqmaq to the Muslim kinglet of eastern Ethiopia, Badlāy b. Saʿd al-Dīn (r. 1433–45), was the sultan’s eunuch Mithqāl al-Ḥabashī.52 Besides eunuchs, some Egyptian-born officers were also conversant in Ge’ez, as for instance Yaḥyā b. Aḥmad b. Shādī Bak, a walad al-nās who spoke fluently the “language of the Abyssinians” and was sent as an envoy to Abyssinia in 847/1443. It is unclear, however, if he was chosen by Sultan Jaqmaq on account of his linguistic ability, or if he acquired that skill during the four-year journey during which he earned the nickname “messenger of Abyssinia” (qāṣid al-Ḥabasha).53 But the attendance of Arabic-speaking emissaries was not only a technical requirement. The best evidence of this is that, according to the Venetian source of Georges Lengherand, the leader of the envoy of the 886/1481 embassy addressed the sultan without interpreter (“sans truceman”) because he spoke Arabic (“pour ce qu’il parloit morisque”).54 Should it be assumed that he was

49 50 51 52 53 54

Vallet, L’ Arabie marchande 471–82. Ibn al-Ṣayrafī, Nuzhat al-nufūs iv, 287. Petry, From slaves; Loiseau, Reconstruire i, 203–5. Al-Sakhāwī, al-Ḍawʾ al-lāmiʿ vi, 239 (n. 839); al-Sakhāwī, al-Tibr al-masbūk i, 171. Al-Sakhāwī, al-Ḍawʾ al-lāmiʿ x, 216 (no. 939); al-Sakhāwī, al-Tibr al-masbūk i, 170; Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr ii, 239–40; iii, 206. Lengherand, Voyage 187.

652

loiseau

himself an Arabic-speaking Muslim? The report of Georges Lengherand suggests the opposite. Nevertheless, according to the letter received in Cairo in 689/1290, the envoy of the ḥaṭī, who traveled through Yemen before meeting his death in ʿAydhāb, was a certain Yūsuf b. ʿAbd al-Raḥmān al-Sharīfī, i.e., an Arabic-speaking Muslim. It seemed perhaps appropriate for the Abyssinians to emphasize his leadership during the journey in Yemen and Hijaz, as well as in the preliminary correspondence with the Mamluk sultan. But when the delegation finally reached Cairo, the “first envoy” (al-rasūl al-aṣlī) was an Abyssinian (ḥabashī l-jins).55 Therefore, it can be inferred that the attendance of two emissaries, an Abyssinian dignitary and his Arabic-speaking Muslim spokesman, was the rule in the ḥaṭī’s embassies. Moreover, the second delegation sent to Europe by Zar’a Yā’eqob, evidenced in Rome in 1450 thanks to a safe-conduct (littera passus) preserved in the Vatican archives, included four emissaries: Fire’-Mikā’ēl and Demetrio (both Abyssinian), Pietro Rombulo of Messina (who lived for a long time in Abyssinia), and a certain merchant named … Abū ʿUmar al-Zandī.56 The skills of an Arabic-speaking Muslim were always needed, even to reach the very heart of Christendom. This quite systematic option suggests two other observations. First, it appears that Arabic was the only language used in diplomatic exchanges between the ḥaṭī and the sultan, at least in Cairo. It is not by chance that Cairene chroniclers recorded in Arabic part of the text of four letters received from Abyssinia. Indeed, the Mamluk chancery had the capacity to translate the Ge’ez correspondence of the ḥaṭī into Arabic. For example, Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, who was at that time the sultan’s private secretary, preserved the Arabic translation (taʿrīb) of two letters brought by the 689/1290 embassy, one that had been sent to the Jacobite patriarch, the other to the Abyssinian monks in Jerusalem. But we know that two other letters, brought to the sultan on the same occasion, were written and recorded directly in Arabic. Second, it also appears that Arabic-speaking Muslim emissaries working on behalf of the ḥaṭī were most often merchants involved in the Red Sea trade. It was easier for Abyssinian embassies to sail from ʿAwān or anywhere else on the Red Sea coast on board merchant ships than to charter their own vessels. In any event, emissaries, like traders or pilgrims, had to clear Egyptian customs. In 689/1290 for instance, on their way to Egypt, Abyssinian envoys complained about the “tithe collector” (ṣāḥib zakāt) of ʿAydhāb.57 Moreover, 55 56 57

Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, Tashrīf al-ayyām 170–2. de Witte, Une ambassade éthiopienne. Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, Tashrīf al-ayyām 172. The zakāt, which is the obligatory payment by Muslims of a fixed portion of their property, including merchandise, probably has the

the ḥaṭī and the sultan

653

it was imperative for the ḥaṭī to hire the services of merchants, considering that the customary gifts expected by the sultan used to include “eunuchs and female servants, gold and shirts.”58 The high number of slaves presented to the sultan required the expertise of slave traders, who took the opportunity offered by the embassy to conduct their own business. In 847/1443, the trader (al-tājir) ʿAbd al-Raḥmān al-Kārimī, who led the envoys of the ḥaṭī with the amir ʿĪsā, imported two hundred slaves, among whom seventy died on the road. Seventy others, only female servants ( jawārī), were presented to the sultan along with “plates, a golden ewer, golden spurs, a sword gilded in gold leaf, a golden ceremonial belt and other golden artifacts.”59 ʿAbd al-Raḥmān then had sixty slaves left that he could sell on his own account. The trade costs and risks were thus shared between the sponsor of the embassy and his partner.

5

Diplomacy between Gifts and Memory

Diplomatic gifts were always expected in Cairo from the Abyssinian embassy, a fortiori if it requested the appointment of a new metropolitan. As other kings, the ḥaṭī sought to select the most precious items (tuḥaf ) and rarest things (ṭarāʾif ), among which usually included gold, in the form of artifacts or beads that would please the sultan.60 But in 922/1516 the inexpensive nature of the presents, estimated at only five thousand dinars, aroused the indignation of Sultan al-Ashraf Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī. He inquired therefore about the value of gifts presented in the past by kings of Abyssinia. Two kinds of evidence were dispatched to satisfy the sultan’s curiosity: chronicles (tawārīkh) and registers (qawāʾim), which were read in front of him. Chronicles reported that Abyssinian kings were by now less powerful than they had been previously and that, as an illustration, the gifts presented two centuries earlier to Sultan

58 59

60

technical meaning of tithe (ʿushr) in this case. On the payment of the ʿushr in the port of ʿAydhāb, see Vallet, L’ Arabie marchande 492–3. “Wa-l-ladhī jarat al-ʿāda bi-hi ʿinda infādh al-maṭrān min al-khuddām wa-l-jawārī wa-ldhahab wa-l-uṣad wa-yaṣil maʿa rasūlihi.” Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, Tashrīf al-ayyām 170. Ibn al-Ṣayrafī, Nuzhat al-nufūs iv, 281. The number of seventy slaves actually presented to the sultan is confirmed by both al-Sakhāwī and Gandulph of Sicily. However, the latter mainly mentioned golden weaponry (sword, lance, helmet, breastplate, shield, bow, quiver, arrows), along with “a small golden horse,” as being among the artifacts presented to the sultan. Al-Sakhāwī, al-Tibr al-masbūk i, 164; Plante, The Ethiopian embassy 138. In 788/1387, the ḥaṭī’s envoys presented cauldrons full of golden beads shaped like chickpeas (“ṣuniʿa ʿalā hayʾat al-ḥummuṣ”). Ibn al-Sayrafī, Nuzhat al-nufūs i, 145.

654

loiseau

al-Nāṣir Muḥammad were worth 100,000 dinars.61 The registers preserved evidence of gifts presented by foreign embassies to the Mamluk sultan, arranged by country, and were part of the chancery’s archives. The memory preserved in registers was more accurate than the narratives of chroniclers, but it did not go as far back as they did. In 922/1516, according to the report of Ibn Iyās, the memory of the chancery’s archives went back less than a century, i.e., to the reception of an Abyssinian embassy by Sultan Barsbāy in 841/1437. Diplomacy was indeed a matter of memory, in which requests and grievances of the past had to be remembered. Diplomacy involved living memory, as that of the Abyssinian envoy of 922/1516, who was supposed to be the son of the emissary who arrived thirty-five years earlier at the court of Sultan Qāytbāy. But diplomacy required mainly written memory, as evidenced by the chancery’s registers dispatched in 922/1516 to the sultan. With respect to written culture, it is worth pointing out that the Abyssinian court was also familiar with the archiving of documents. In 689/1290, the envelope of the letter (ṭayy al-kitāb) sent by King Yagbe’a Ṣeyon (r. 1285–94) to Sultan Qalāwūn also contained a note (waraqa) stating that the letter addressed earlier to King Yekuno Amlāk, his father, by Sultan Baybars, was attached herewith. Acting as private secretary of both sultans, Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir was then faced with an odd situation in which he had to copy from the Abyssinian file the text of a letter he himself had composed sixteen years earlier.62 In the meantime, the Mamluk letter had been treasured in the court of the ḥaṭī.

Bibliography Primary Sources Baybars al-Manṣūrī, Zubdat al-fikra fī taʾrīkh al-hijra, ed. D.S. Richards, Beirut 1998. Ethiopian itineraries circa 1400–1524, including those collected by Alessandro Zorzi at Venice in the years 1519–24, ed. O.G.S. Crawford, Cambridge 1958. Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, al-Rawḍ al-zāhir fī sīrat al-Malik al-Ẓāhir, ed. A. al-Khuwayṭir, Riyadh 1976. Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, Tashrīf al-ayyām wa-l-ʿuṣūr fī sīrat al-Malik al-Manṣūr, ed. M. Kāmil, Cairo 1961.

61

62

Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr v, 12. Unfortunately, the titles of these tawārīkh were not mentionned. The report of Ibn Iyās is the only evidence I know of an Abyssinian embassy to Cairo in 712/1312–3. Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir, Tashrīf al-ayyām 170–1.

the ḥaṭī and the sultan

655

Ibn Abī l-Faḍāʾil, al-Najh al-sadīd wa-l-durr al-farīd fī-mā baʿd Taʾrīkh Ibn al-ʿAmīd, ed. and trans. E. Blochet, Histoire des Sultans Mamlouks, in PO 14/3, 19/3, 20 (1919– 29). Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, Masālik al-abṣār fī mamālik al-amṣār, ed. M.A. Khuraysāt, I.M. ʿUqla, and Y.A. Banī Yāsīn, 25 vols., al-ʿAyn 2001–4. Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, al-Taʿrīf bi-l-muṣṭalaḥ al-sharīf, ed. M.Ḥ. Shams al-Dīn, Beirut 1988. Ibn Ḥajar, Inbāʾ al-ghumr bi-abnāʾ al-ʿumr, ed. Ḥ. Ḥabashī, 4 vols., Cairo 1969–72, repr. 1994–8. Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr fī waqāʾiʿ al-duhūr, ed. M. Muṣṭafā, 6 vols., Cairo 1960–75. Ibn Nāẓir al-Jaysh, Kitāb Tathqīf al-taʿrīf bi-l-muṣṭalaḥ al-sharīf, ed. R. Veselý, Cairo 1987. Ibn al-Ṣayrafī, Nuzhat al-nufūs wa-l-abdān fī tawārīkh al-zamān, ed. Ḥ. Ḥabashī, 4 vols., Cairo 1970–94. Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Manhal al-ṣāfī wa-l-mustawfī baʿd al-Wāfī, 13 vols., Cairo 1956– 2009. Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Nujūm al-zāhira fī mulūk Miṣr wa-l-Qāhira, 16 vols., Cairo 1963– 72. Kolmodin, Johannes, Traditions de Tsazzega et Hazzega, Uppsala 1914. Lengherand, Voyage de Georges Lengherand, mayeur de Mons en Haynaut, à Venise, Rome, Jérusalem, Mont Sinaï et Le Kayre, 1485–1486, ed. G. Ménilglaise, Mons 1861. al-Maqrīzī, al-Ilmām bi-akhbār man bi-arḍ al-Ḥabasha min mulūk al-islām, ed. ʿA. al-N. Ḍ. ʿU. ʿAbd al-Naʿīm, Cairo 2006. al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk li-maʿrifat duwal al-mulūk, ed. M.M. Ziyāda and S.ʿA. al-F. ʿĀshūr, 4 vols., Cairo 1939–73. al-Nuwayrī, Nihāyat al-arab fī funūn al-adab, 33 vols., Cairo 1929–98. al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā fī ṣināʿat al-inshāʾ, ed. M.ʿA. al-R. Ibrāhīm, 14 vols., Cairo 1913–9, 21963. al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim fī ṣināʿat al-kātib wa-l-kātim, ed. A.M. Anas, 2 vols., Cairo 2009. al-Sakhāwī, al-Ḍawʾ al-lāmiʿ li-ahl al-qarn al-tāsiʿ, 12 vols., Cairo 1934–6. al-Sakhāwī, al-Tibr al-masbūk fī dhayl al-Sulūk, ed. N.M. Kāmil and L.I. Muṣṭafā, 4 vols., Cairo 2002–7. Suriano, Francesco, Il trattato di Terra Santa e dell’Oriente, ed. G. Golubovich, Milan 1900. al-ʿUlaymī, al-Uns al-jalīl bi-taʾrīkh al-Quds wa-l-Khalīl, 2 vols., Cairo n.d. Vansleb, Nouvelle Relation en forme de journal d’un voyage fait en Égypte par le Père Vansleb en 1672 et 1673, Paris 1677. Wadding, Luke, Annales minorum seu trium ordinum a S. Francesco institutorum, ed. J.M. Fonseca and B. Marrani, 25 vols., Florence 1931–5.

656

loiseau

Secondary Sources Abu-Manneh, B., The Georgians in Jerusalem during the Mamluk period, in A. Cohen and G. Baer (eds.), Egypt and Palestine: A millenium of association (868–1948), Jerusalem 1984, 102–12. Bauden, F., Inscriptions arabes d’Éthiopie, in AI 45 (2011), 285–306. Cerulli, E., Etiopi in Palestina. Storia della comunità etiopica di Gerusalemme, 2 vols., Rome 1943–7. Cerulli, E., Il sultanato dello scioa nel secolo XIII secondo un nuovo documento storico, in Rassegna di studi etiopici 1 (1941), 5–42. Cerulli, E., La storia della dinastia dei Walashma‘, in E. Cerulli (ed.), Documenti arabi per la storia dell’Etiopia, Rome 1931, 39–52. Coquin, R.-G., Dayr al-Maghṯis, in The Coptic encyclopedia ii (New York 1991), 818–9. Cuoq, J., L’Islam en Éthiopie. Des origines au XVIe siècle, Paris 1981. de Witte, C.-M., Une ambassade éthiopienne à Rome en 1450, in OCP 21 (1956), 286– 98. den Heijer, J., Coptic historiography in the Fāṭimid, Ayyūbid and early Mamlūk periods, in ME 2/1 (1996), 67–98. Euringer, S., Ein angeblicher Brief des Negus Zara Jakob vom Jahre 1447 wegen der Christenverfolgungen in Palästina und Ägypten, in Das Heilige Land in Vergangenheit und Gegenwart, Cologne 1939, 205–40. Fauvelle, F.-X. and B. Hirsch, Muslim historical spaces in Ethiopia and the Horn of Africa: A reassessment, in Northeast African Studies 11/1 (2010), 25–54. Garcin, J.-C., La ‘Méditerranéisation’ de l’empire mamelouk sous les sultans Bahrides, in RSO 48 (1973–4), 109–16. Gori, A., Sugli Incipit delle missive inviate dalla cancelleria mamelucca ai sovrani d’Etiopia nel XIV-XV secolo, in Rassegna di Studi Etiopici, n.s., 1 (2002), 29–44 Garcin, J.-C., Un centre musulman de la Haute-Égypte médiévale: Qūṣ, Cairo 1976. Gori, A., Sugli Incipit delle missive inviate dalla cancelleria mamelucca ai sovrani d’Etiopia nel XIV–XV secolo, in Rassegna di Studi Etiopici, n.s., 1 (2002), 29–44. Lefevre, R., Presenze etiopiche in Italia prima del Concilio di Firenze del 1439, in Rassegna di Studi Etiopici 22 (1967–8), 5–26. Loiseau, J., Reconstruire la Maison du sultan. Ruine et recomposition de l’ordre urbain au Caire, 1350–1450, 2 vols., Cairo 2010. Loiseau, J., Two unpublished Arabic inscriptions from Bilet (Tigray, Ethiopia), Carnet de recherche Projet ERC COG HornEast (consulted on 2 November 2018, https:// horneast.hypotheses.org/publication‑horneast). Mekouria, T.-T., Le Roi Zera Yaicob et sa lettre, in K. Wessel (ed.), Christentum am Nil, Recklinghausen 1964, 43–52. O’Mahony, A., Between Islam and Christendom: The Ethiopian community in Jerusalem before 1517, in ME 2/2 (1996), 140–54.

the ḥaṭī and the sultan

657

Perruchon, J., Récit d’une ambassade au roi d’Éthiopie Sayfa Ar’ad par le Patriarche d’Égypte, Revue sémitique d’épigraphie et d’histoire ancienne 1 (1893), 177–82. Petry, C.F., From slaves to benefactors: The Habashis of Mamluk Cairo, in Sudanic Africa 5 (1994), 59–68. Plante, J.G., The Ethiopian embassy to Cairo of 1443: A Trier manuscript of Gandulph’s report, with an English translation, in Journal of Ethiopian Studies 13/2 (1975), 133– 40. Qāsim, ʿA.Q., ʿAlāqāt Miṣr bi-l-Ḥabasha fī ʿaṣr salāṭīn al-Mamālīk, in Qāsim (ed.), Awrāq taʾrīkhiyya, Gizeh 2011, 307–31. Quatremère, É., Mémoire sur les relations des princes mamlouks avec l’Abyssinie, in Quatremère (ed.), Mémoires géographiques et historiques sur l’Égypte et sur quelques contrées voisines, 2 vols., Paris 1811–2, ii, 267–83. Taklahaymanot, A., The Egyptian metropolitan of the Ethiopian church: A study on a chapter of history of the Ethiopian church, in OCP 54 (1988), 175–222. al-Ṭayyib, ʿA.A., Hijrat al-Ḥabasha wa-mā warāʾahā min nabaʾ, in A.M. ʿAbdallāh, S. al-Saqqār, and R. Mortel (eds.), al-Jazīra al-ʿarabiyya fī ʿaṣr al-Rasūl wa-l-khulafāʾ alrāshidīn, 2 vols., Riyadh 1989, ii, 95–103. Ullendorff, E., D̲ j̲abart, in EI2, ii, 355. Vallet, É., L’Arabie marchande. État et commerce sous les sultans rasūlides du Yémen (626–858/1229–1454), Paris 2010. Van Donzel, E., The Ethiopian presence in Jerusalem until 1517, in Palestine, vol. 1: Jerusalem, The Third International Conference on Bilad al-Sham, Amman, 19–24 April 1980, Amman 1983, 93–104. Weber, B., La Bulle Cantate Domino (4 février 1442) et les enjeux éthiopiens du concile de Florence, in Mélanges de l’École Française de Rome 122/2 (2010), 435–43. Wiet, G., Les Relations égypto-abyssines sous les sultans mamlouks, in Bulletin de la société d’archéologie copte 4 (1938), 115–40.

chapter 21

“Peace Be upon Those Who Follow the Right Way”: Diplomatic Practices between Mamluk Cairo and the Borno Sultanate at the End of the Eighth/Fourteenth Century Rémi Dewière

For the African part of the dār al-Islām, the importance of Cairo as a crossroads went beyond diplomacy. Egypt was an obligatory stop for any pilgrim en route to Mecca, from the Maghrib to the shores of Niger.1,2 Religion was not the only reason Cairo was important to the southern shores of the Sahara: Many documents attest that, since the early appearance of Islam in sub-Saharan West Africa,3 intense exchanges occurred between the north and the south of the Sahara following the numerous oases that connected the two shorelines. As a result of this trans-Saharan traffic, Mamluk Egypt became a main destination for many sub-Saharan caravans. This period has been qualified as the “classical period of Egypto-Takrūr relations.”4 Shihāb al-Dīn Aḥmad b. Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī (d. 749/1349), al-Maqrīzī (d. 845/1442), and other Arab chroniclers reported the famous pilgrimage to Mecca by the ruler of Mali, Mansā Mūsā, in 724/1324, which could be seen as an example of such relations.5 This ḥajj was driven by economic, diplomatic, political, and religious interests, and had a strong impact on both Mali and Egypt.6 This encounter between Mansā Mūsā and the Mamluk ruler was also an opportunity to start an active diplomatic 1 The author would like to thank Total that granted him a three-year grant from 2009 to 2012, without which this work would not have been possible. He also would like to thank Mauro Nobili for the fruitful comments on his paper. 2 Walz, Trade 1; Wright, Libya 47; Lydon, On trans-Saharan trails 100. 3 Since the seventh/thirteenth century, Arabic sources have referred to this part of Africa, from present-day Mauritania to Darfur, as Takrūr (al-Naqar, Takrur 369). Nevertheless, the term Takrūr could also be used to refer to the Mauritanian-Senegalese region. In our case, we use it in its larger geographical meaning. 4 Walz, Gold and silver exchanges 312. 5 Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, Masālik al-abṣār 70–92; al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk ii, 255; Ibn Kathīr, alBidāya wa-l-nihāya xiv, 112; Ibn Ḥajar, al-Durar al-kāmina iv, 383–4; Ibn Aybak al-Dāwādārī, al-Durr al-fākhir 316–7. 6 Levtzion, Ancient Ghana 209–14.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2019 | doi:10.1163/9789004384637_022

“peace be upon those who follow the right way”

659

policy in North Africa, and indicates the inter-relationship of pilgrimage and diplomacy for sub-Saharan rulers.7 This connection between pilgrimage and diplomacy during the Mamluk period can also be found in other cases, such as the relations between Yemen and Egypt.8 In a wider context, Suraiya Faroqhi also mentions the link between pilgrimages and foreign relations during the Ottoman period.9 The diplomatic aspect of the pilgrimage is then well established, and Mamluk Egypt became a major destination for Sahelian pilgrims, ambassadors, and rulers. Another Sahelian state developed strong religious and political relations with Mamluk Egypt: the Borno sultanate, located in present-day Nigeria on the shores of Lake Chad. The data recorded by the Mamluk authors provide us with an insight into those relations.10 In 793/1391, al-Qalqashandī (d. 821/1418) reported on a diplomatic mission accompanying a ḥajj caravan and sent to the Mamluk sultan al-Ẓāhir Barqūq (r. 784–801/1382–99) by the Borno sultan ʿUthmān b. Idrīs (r. 791–823/1389–1421) of the Sefuwa dynasty.11 On this diplomatic mission, the sultan of Borno complained about the attacks by the Judhām Arabs in the Lake Chad area. He also asked the Mamluk sultan if he could free any enslaved Bornoan Muslims in Cairo or Damascus.12 On this occasion alQalqashandī gives us information about the characteristics of the diplomatic relations between the Mamluk and the Borno sultans. Moreover, he reproduces the letter from the sultan of Borno, giving precious data concerning the material used by the Bornoan scribes for their diplomatic letters. The testimony of al-Qalqashandī is of great importance for historians of Central Sahel. Between the eighth/fourteenth and tenth/sixteenth centuries, the Lake Chad basin experienced radical changes that affected the populations and the political organization of the area. The main event, recorded in

7 8 9 10

11

12

Birks, Across the savannas 10. Vallet, Du système mercantile 273. Faroqhi, Pilgrims 127–45. “The Mamluk period produced encyclopedic compilations covering almost every branch of the Islamic sciences. In particular, there arose a flourishing minor genre of manuals of financial and secretarial practice, reflecting on the one hand the economic and commercial richness of the Mamluk lands, and on the other the importance of the Mamluk chancery and its truly international sphere of operations.” Bosworth, Christian and Jewish religious dignitaries 59. The Sefuwa dynasty ruled the Kanem sultanate and then the Borno sultanate around Lake Chad from the eleventh to the nineteenth centuries. See Barth, Travels; Martin, Kanem; Lavers, Islam; Lavers, Adventures; Triaud, Idris Alaoma; Lange, A Sudanic chronicle; Zeltner, Pages; Nur Alkali, Economic factors; Barkindo, Le Kanem-Borno; Holl, The diwan. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā viii, 117; Levtzion and Hopkins, Corpus 348.

660

dewière

endogenous Arabic sources,13 concerns the migration of the Sefuwa dynasty from Kanem, on the eastern shores of Lake Chad, to Borno, at the end of the eighth/fourteenth century. The letter copied by al-Qalqashandī is our only endogenous source from this troubled period, and it is the first diplomatic letter that we have from a Sahelian kingdom.14 Although this text has been used to study various aspects of the political and human developments in the Chad basin,15 it has not yet been studied on a larger scale. Hence, this letter provides an opportunity to focus on the political, economic, and diplomatic context in which it was produced. Its circulation highlights the connections between Egypt and this part of Africa through the yearly ḥajj caravans to Mecca. We have a few other examples of diplomatic texts written by scribes from the Borno sultanate before the nineteenth century.16 Unfortunately, we only have translations of them; therefore, we cannot compare them with our text. However, thanks to this letter, we can glimpse the diplomatic practices and the writing culture on the southern margins of the dār al-Islām. This letter can be a starting point for an examination of the Borno ruler’s expression of power in a very delicate period of dynastic history. Finally, I analyze the diplomatic order that existed between these two states.

13

14

15 16

The two main endogenous sources mentioned are a king-list named Dīwān al-Salāṭīn Barnū (Lange, A Sudanic chronicle) and the texts of a tenth-/sixteenth-century imam, Aḥmad b. Furṭū (Palmer, Sudanese memoirs; Lange, A Sudanic chronicle; Dewière, Aḥmad ibn Furṭū). Although Umar al-Naqar wrote that an ambassador of Mansā Mūsā gave a letter to the Mamluk sultan al-Malik al-Nāṣir (al-Naqar, The pilgrimage tradition 38, note 6), I have found no evidence that Mali rulers had a written practice of diplomacy. Nevertheless, Shihāb al-Dīn Aḥmad b. Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī wrote that Mansā Mūsā gave a written note to the Mamluk sultan describing the titles that had to be used in letters addressed to him: “Le Sultan Mūsā a fait parvenir à Sa Majesté le Sultan du Caire un mémoire en écriture maghrébine, sur une feuille large, sans intervalle. Il y traitait des règles de conduite à son égard d’ après les normes de la bienséance. Il l’ avait fait écrire de la main de l’un de ses familiers qui vint en pèlerinage avec lui. On y trouve des salutations et une recommandation au porteur qui avait pourvu, en manière de cadeau, de 5000 mithkāl d’or” (Cuoq, Recueil 279). Fadl Hasan, The Arabs 163–5; Al-Hajj, Some diplomatic correspondence 157; Barkindo, The royal pilgrimage 9; Insoll, The archaeology 284–5; Holl, Ethnoarchaeology 11–4. The oldest one is a manuscript found by a French officer in Tuat oasis and dated from 844/1440. It was never edited (A.G.P. Martin, Les Oasis 122–3). Another text comes from Tripoli and is dated from 1063/1653 and translated in French in a manuscript written in 1685 (Paris, BnF, MS fr. 12220 322). See below.

“peace be upon those who follow the right way”

1

661

Writing Culture and Diplomatic Practices in the Borno Sultanate

As Jonathan Bloom states in an article about paper in the southern Sahara, Sultan ʿUthmān b. Idrīs’s letter “demonstrates the presence of sophisticated scribes in Borno” at the end of the eighth/fourteenth century.17 The sending of a letter written by a Sahelian ruler is a striking example of the importance of writing culture in the Lake Chad basin during this period. Several testimonies dating back to the emergence of Islam show that writing culture crossed the Sahara to the Lake Chad basin. Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī reported that there was a poet from Kanem at the court of the Almohad sultan, Yaʿqūb al-Manṣūr (r. 580– 95/1184–99). This poet was Ibrāhīm b. Yaʿqūb al-Dhakwānī l-Kānimī (d. 608/1211 or 609/1212–3).18 Later, a tenth/sixteenth-century Borno imam wrote two voluminous texts.19 He also took as a model another book which was written at the beginning of the tenth/sixteenth century in Borno by a faqīh named Masfarma ʿUmar b. ʿUthmān.20 Hence, the letter I study today is evidence and part of this south Saharan writing culture, especially of long distance correspondence. The introductory prayer of the letter, the ḥamdala, is particularly significant: al-ḥamd lillāh al-ladhī jaʿala l-khaṭṭ tarāsulan bayna l-abāʿid, wa-tarjumānan bayna l-aqārib, wa-muṣāfaḥatan bayna l-aḥbāb, wa-muʾnisan bayna l-ʿulamāʾ, wa-mūḥishan bayna l-juhhāl, wa-law lā dhālika la-baṭulat alkalimāt wa-fasadat al-ḥājāt Praise be to God who created writing as means of communication between distant men, an interpreter between neighbors, a vehicle of greeting between friends, a source of delight among the ʿulamāʾ and of sorrow among the unlettered. Verily, had it not been for it, communication would have ceased and transactions would have become impossible.21 This kind of ḥamdala has been identified by Ghislaine Lydon, working on a different period, as a common way to start letters in the correspondence of traders in Mauritania in the nineteenth century. Accordingly, authors from the Sahara used to introduce their letters with the same kind of prayers:

17 18 19 20 21

Bloom, Paper 52. Hunwick and O’Fahey (eds.), Arabic literature 17–9. See above, note 13. Lange, A Sudanic chronicle 20. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā viii, 116; trans. in Al-Hajj, Some diplomatic correspondence 164.

662

dewière

al-ḥamd lillāh al-ladhī jaʿala l-aqlām rāḥat al-aqdām wa-nāʾibat ʿan almushāfaha bi-l-kalām Praise God for the one who brought us the pens that spared us from having to use our feet and replaced the need for speech with words.22 Thus, this sentence “implicitly conveys the immeasurable advantages of literacy and the use of both paper and messengers that rendered possible communications across long distances.”23 Although these examples are from different periods, concerns were similar in the southern Sahara, and the long distance between these people enriched the written knowledge provided by the Arabic language. In this context, paper was an important issue. This resource was rare in sub-Saharan Africa. Until the nineteenth century, it was imported from North Africa or from the Atlantic coast through Senegambia.24 The first mention of the paper trade dates from the eleventh/seventeenth century. According to the “French surgeon,” a French slave who lived in Tripoli from 1077/1667 to 1085/1675, paper was listed among the goods sent from Tripoli to Borno following a diplomatic exchange that took place in 1046/1637.25 In Egypt, in 1044/1635, “Santo Seguezzi, the Venetian merchant reported on the gold brought from the ‘pays d’Acrouri’ (or West Africa) that was exchanged for ‘silk stuffs from Italy, coral, paper, lead, copper, tin, and quicksilver.’”26 If we consider that Borno also bought paper sent from Egypt to West Africa, it seems that paper came from several commercial routes, all passing through the Fezzan oasis in southern Libya.27 The 793/1391 letter is evidence that this paper import dates back to the eighth/fourteenth century. One last fact would suggest an Egyptian origin for paper: the most ancient Quranic manuscripts found in Nigeria from tenth and eleventh/sixteenth and seventeenth-century Borno were made from oriental paper.28 This information is important, as it proves that the Sefuwa dynasty, despite being in a period of struggle, was still able to import paper through the trans-Saharan trade. Another passage in the text by al-Qalqashandī concerns itself with the economy of paper: 22 23 24 25 26 27 28

Lydon, A thirst for knowledge 35. Ibid. Ibid. 47. Paris, BnF, MS fr. 12219 198. Bloom, Paper 53. The mention, by the Italian trader, of quicksilver as belonging to the goods sent to West Africa is interesting; see below. Ross, A historical geography 15. Bondarev, The language 117.

“peace be upon those who follow the right way”

663

wa-buʿitha ilayhi bi-hi maʿa rasūlihi l-wārid ṣuḥbat al-ḥajīj, fa-uʿīda wa-qad kutiba l-jawāb ʿalā ẓahrihi baʿda sana aw sanatayn. It was dispatched by way of the ambassador who had come in company with the pilgrims. It was returned after a year or two with the reply written on the back.29 After the ambassador brought the letter back from Egypt to his sultan in Borno, the answer was written on the verso of the same letter. This economic usage shows how rare paper was, but it also reveals a practice that existed much later, during the colonial period, between the Borno shehu30 and the colonial officer: the British services sent letters in Arabic to the Bornoan leader, who answered on the back of the same letter, using all the available space.31 It might reveal, in the longue durée, a practice that was common in the Borno court, and which we have an early example of here. Aside from the practical reason, the reuse of the Mamluk letter by the Borno sultan might also be symbolic. In this way, the Borno sultan used the symbolic power of the Mamluk’s letter as reinforcement of his own empowerment. This strategy of empowerment might lie in using the “strong letter” of the Mamluk as a “strong paper” for their own diplomatic correspondence.32 If we return to the first letter, al-Qalqashandī argues that paper is a waraq murabbaʿ. There has been some discrepancy about the meaning of this term. Joseph Cuoq translates this term as a format in-quarto.33 A.D.H. Bivar stays closer to the sense of waraq murabbaʿ, and says that the paper is in a square format.34 However, this formula is more related to codicology: the word murabbaʿ is commonly used to describe a book format, as in the expression taqṭīʿ murabbaʿ.35 The square was considered the most suitable format for a book, and this format was also in use in the Maghrib until a later period. Therefore, we might think that Borno was following these practices for its diplomatic letters. However, it is hard to conceive that the letter was indeed in a square format, as it appears that the term was used by al-Qalqashandī in other contexts to 29 30

31 32 33 34 35

Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā viii, 7; trans. Levtzion and Hopkins, Corpus 346. The shehu was the local authority in the Borno province during the colonial period in Nigeria. He was a member of the al-Kanemi dynasty, which overthrew the Sefuwa dynasty during the first part of the nineteenth century (Brenner, The Shehus). Oxford, Weston Library, MS Brit. Emp. s 276 box 14, fols. 83–96, 608. For the concept of “strong letter,” see Reinfandt’s article in this volume. Cuoq, Recueil 376. Bivar, Arabic documents 325. Gacek, Arabic manuscripts 34.

664

dewière

refer to a sheet of paper in “landscape” mode, folded centrally to give four pages.36 Hence, if we take into consideration al-Qalqashandī’s testimony, the Borno chancery used a different format for their diplomatic letters than that used by the Mamluk chancery in that period. Unfortunately, we do not have information about the size of the letter or its quality. Concerning the script used for the letter, al-Qalqashandī says that it is a maghribī script. He probably refers to the pointing of letters that are uniformly maghribī in the Nigerian writing tradition.37 The recent studies on what Bivar named “Bornu court hand” assert that it likely derives from kufic script and not from maghribī script, as some scholars argue that Egypt had a considerable influence in the development of West African styles.38 Al-Qalqashandī also gives us data about the page setting of the letter: al-saṭr ilā jānib al-saṭr, bi-khaṭṭ maghribī, wa-laysa lahu hāmish fī aʿlāhu wa-lā jānibihi, wa-tatimmat al-kitāb fī ẓahrihi min dhayl al-kitāb Each line was close to the next, in maghribī writing, and there was no margin either at the top, or at the side; the text was concluded on the reverse, starting from the foot of the page.39 The page setting seems very simple and economic. The scribe clearly used all available space on the paper. In the absence of other known letters, we do not know if this was a common rule in the Borno chancery, but we can assume that the scarcity of paper explains the absence of margins and spaces between lines. The same argument accounts for the scribe’s decision to finish his letter on the verso of the page. The use of paper alone was probably already a sign of prestige for the Borno ruler.40 However, despite the absence of page setting, the text shows that the scribe knew the basics of diplomatic composition in use in the Islamic world. AlQalqashandī’s description shows that this scribe knew how to write a diplomatic letter: 36 37 38 39 40

Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā xiii, 154; Richards, A Mamlūk emir’s ‘square’ decree 63. I thank Frederic Bauden for providing me with this information. The main features of it are the qāf, which has one dot on the top of the letter, and the fāʾ, which has one dot below the letter. Bivar, Arabic documents 328. Bivar, The Arabic calligraphy 10; Hamès, Les Manuscrits 177; Nobili, Arabic scripts 111, 124. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā viii, 116; trans. in Bivar, Arabic documents 325, note 5. We can see that this is not the case for later letters, such as those from the nineteenth century that have margins and only one side of the paper is used. Martin, Five letters; Gwarzo, Seven letters.

“peace be upon those who follow the right way”

665

wa-tuftataḥ al-mukātaba bi-khuṭbat muftataḥa bi-l-ḥamd, thumma yatakhallaṣu ilā l-maqṣid bi-baʿdiyya, wa yaʾtī ʿalā l-maqṣid ilā ākhirihi. The correspondence is opened with an opening address of praise to God; then it proceeds to the subject matter [of the letter] with the phrase wabaʿd dhāk “and after that” and completes it.41 The document is divided into several parts. The composition of the document follows the same division as that seen in Arabic documents. We find the introductory protocol, the text, and the closing protocol.42 We can see that the iftitāḥ starts with a basmala. Otherwise, the page settings of the 1915 edition of Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā might reveal that a space exists between the basmala and the following ḥamdala. This space would be similar to the one used by the Borno chancery much later. Then, as we have seen, the scribe writes the ḥamdala. This ḥamdala is particularly well-developed, compared to other letters I have found from later periods.43 After this introduction, the scribe writes the address (ʿunwān) in the form of min fulān ilā fulān. This ʿunwān is interesting as the titles used for the Borno sultan are very long, following the inflationist trends in the rest of the Islamic world. On the other hand, the laqab of the Mamluk sultan is short, though not insignificant. After the ʿunwān, the scribe writes the baʿdiyya and addresses the subject that concerns the diplomatic mission. It is at this moment that the scribe reveals the identity of the ambassador, his position, and his affiliation with the Borno sultan. This practice is common in the diplomacy of the Middle Ages, as Nicolas Drocourt notes.44 Hence, the letter from the Bornoan sultan serves as

41 42 43

44

Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā viii, 116; trans. Levtzion and Hopkins, Corpus 347. Björkman, Diplomatic 301. One letter dated from 844/1440, the translation of which was published in 1908, starts with “Louange à Dieu seul! Que Dieu répande sa bénédiction sur notre seigneur Mohammed et sa famille” (Martin, Les Oasis 122) and another one dating from 1063/1653 starts with “Au nom de Dieu miséricordieux, qui exhausse nostre Prophete Mahomet, et tous ceux de sa famille, qui le suivent” (Paris, BnF, MS fr. 12220 322). Later during the nineteenth century, the formula is as short as these two previous examples, as it is written on one line, such as in the al-Kanemi letter to Ahmadu Bello of 1239/1824: al-ḥamd lillāh wa-salām ʿalā rasūl Allāh (London, National Archives, Kew, CO 2/13, vol. 2, 347a–348b). “La lettre transmise par un ambassadeur autant que le sceau l’accompagnant sont pris en compte par les autorités des territoires de l’ Islam pour valider la qualité diplomatique de ce voyageur. Elles peuvent alors lui accorder l’ acte de sauvegarde, ou amān sauf-conduit garantissant sa sécurité et son immunité durant son séjour en Islam” (Drocourt, La Place de l’ écrit 28–9).

666

dewière

certification for the ambassador, in order to assure his safety (amān) during his long trip to Cairo. Concerning the text of the letter, it seems that until this point, al-Qalqashandī has found no fault with the quality of the text. The concluding sentence, however, ruins all the Borno scribe’s efforts, and therefore those of the Borno ruler, at credibility according to Mamluk etiquette: Wa-raʾaytuhu qad khatama mukātabatahu ilā l-abwāb al-sulṭāniyya biqawlihi: wa-l-salām ʿalā man ittabbaʿa l-hudā. Wa-kaʾanna dhālika jahl min al-kātib bi-maqāṣid ṣināʿāt al-inshāʾ, idh lā yahtadūn ilā ḥaqāʾiqihā. I saw that he closed his correspondence addressed to the sultan’s court by saying “Peace be upon those who follow the Right Way.” It would appear that that was ignorance on the part of the secretary of the rules of the secretarial art since they have no guidance as to the correct ones.45 Joseph Cuoq explains the severe judgment of al-Qalqashandī. According to him, al-Qalqashandī meant that the Borno secretary used a formula that was not appropriate to the context. In fact, this formula is generally addressed to groups in which both Muslims and non-Muslims are present, in order to underline the fact that non-Muslims were not included in the salutation. The Right Way is the one described in the Quran, the way that non-Muslims do not follow. Therefore, the use of this formula, according to al-Qalqashandī, may be considered insulting, because it puts in doubt the faith of the addressee.46 However, apart from this mistake, we can assume that the Borno scribes knew the basic principles of diplomatic practices. This letter also proves that a well-established writing culture existed in Central Sahel in the eighth/fourteenth century. In the absence of any original copy, we cannot assert anything more about the Borno chancery during this period. Nevertheless, it knew the basic principles of diplomatic practices. This letter is also evidence that writing culture existed in the Lake Chad basin from the eighth/fourteenth century onwards. It also shows how rare writing materials were. Therefore, from a Bornoan perspective, the writing of a letter was already a mark of prestige and a symbol of power.

45 46

Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā viii, 116; trans. Levtzion and Hopkins, Corpus 347. Cuoq, Corpus 376, note 2.

“peace be upon those who follow the right way”

2

667

The Expression of Power in the Borno Letter

The means by which Muslim rulers expressed their power in diplomatic exchanges have been well described by Frédéric Bauden in a recent article.47 As a sovereign Muslim authority, the Borno ruler used these means in order to place himself in the diplomatic order of the dār al-Islām. Unfortunately, the uniqueness of our letter does not shed any light on the long-term relations between the Mamluk and Borno sultanates or the expression of power between the Borno sultanate and other political entities. However, to a certain extent the narration of the diplomatic mission according to al-Qalqashandī enables us to study the tactics used by the Borno sultan to express his power. The first of these relates to the context of the meeting with the Mamluk sultan al-Ẓāhir Barqūq: Rasūl sulṭānihim al-wāṣil ilā l-diyār al-miṣriyya ṣuḥbat al-ḥajīj fī l-dawlat al-ẓāhiriyya (Barqūq). The emissary of their sultan arrived in Egypt in company with the pilgrims during the reign of the Sultan al-Ẓāhir Barqūq.48 Wa-buʿitha ilayhi bi-hi maʿa rasūlihi l-wārid ṣuḥbat al-ḥajīj, fa-uʿīda wa-qad kutiba l-jawāb ʿalā ẓahrihi baʿda sana aw sanatayn. [The answer] was dispatched by way of the ambassador who had come in company with the pilgrims. It was returned after a year or two with the reply written on the back.49 As described by al-Qalqashāndī, the Borno diplomatic mission was not as magnificent as the Malian diplomatic mission of Mansā Mūsā in 724/1324. We could argue that the ambassador was not the ruler, but we know from other narratives that Borno embassies were not extraordinary. It seems that the embassies were rather more integrated into the yearly ḥajj: the ambassador arrived in Cairo with the caravan of pilgrims. On his return from Mecca with the rest of the caravan, he received the Mamluk answer. We do not have much information about what happened between them, especially about the official ceremony, but we can imagine that he followed the one described by al-Qalqashandī.50 47 48 49 50

Bauden, Les Relations 87. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā v, 279; trans. Levtzion and Hopkins, Corpus 344. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā viii, 7; trans. Levtzion and Hopkins, Corpus 346. See Dekkiche, Le Caire chap. 1.

668

dewière

The choice of the ambassador by the Borno sultan is interesting. He was the cousin of the Borno ruler. Most interesting is the fact that the ambassador entered and departed in the company of pilgrims en route to and from Mecca. I have already emphasized the importance of the ḥajj in the trans-Saharan connection. It appears here that the ambassador was linked to this caravan. We might assume that this ambassador was also the leader of the pilgrim caravan from Borno, as he had the position of amīr al-rakb (leader of the caravan), a position in use in Cairo and Morocco. This caravan of pilgrims joined the maḥmal of Cairo, the official caravan to Mecca.51 This information is particularly compelling as it does not appear in other contemporary sources explaining how the yearly pilgrimage in Borno was organized. Only one text from the eighteenth century mentions an amīr al-rakb in Borno.52 The second item of information concerns the identity of the ambassador, which we find in the letter: Fa-innā qad arsalnā ilaykum rasūlanā wa-hwa ibn ʿammī, ismuhu Idrīs b. Muḥammad, min ajl al-jāʾiḥa allatī wajadnāhā wa-mulūkunā. We sent to you our ambassador, my cousin, whose name is Idrīs b. Muḥammad, because of the misfortune which we and our vassal kings have experienced.53 Hence, the ambassador was a family member of the Sefuwa ruler. We have few other details of ambassadors sent from Borno. It appears that there was another example of a family member sent to Tripoli in the eleventh/seventeenth century.54 Though we have other examples of diplomatic agents that did not belong to the ruling family, the participation of family members in a diplomatic mission is not a surprise, especially when the ḥajj channels were used.55 More astonishing is the gift offered by the Borno ambassador during the diplomatic exchange. Its main component is quicksilver, or mercury. This metal was well-known for its use in medicine and in the extraction of gold, and was

51 52 53 54 55

Robinson, The Mahmal; al-Naqar, The pilgrimage tradition 20; Jomier, Le Maḥmal 10–34; Vallet, L’ Arabie marchande 439. Barkindo, The royal pilgrimage 14. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā viii, 117; trans. Levtzion and Hopkins, Corpus 347. Paris, BnF, MS fr. 12220 26. We have other examples of this phenomenon in the Muslim world. See for instance Faroqhi, Pilgrims; El-Jetti, Tripoli.

“peace be upon those who follow the right way”

669

imported for this last purpose from Maghrib and Spain to Mali and Ghana.56 This does not explain why quicksilver was sent to the Egyptian sultan, or why alQalqashandī talked about it as a fine gift.57 Indeed, quicksilver was not present in the soil of the Lake Chad basin, so it must have been imported, possibly from the Maghrib. Moreover, Borno is far from auriferous areas, which leads us to wonder why Borno sent quicksilver as a diplomatic gift to Egypt. One hypothesis is that the Borno rulers recycled a gift which had come to them from the Maghrib.58 Hence, this gift was unique, and we do not have any other mention of quicksilver in other diplomatic records from Borno. The titles used by the Borno chancery in the ʿunwān of the 793/1391 letter and reproduced in the following table are, as with those of the Mamluks, of great importance because they reveal how the sultan of Borno saw the world, and how they positioned themselves as rulers. It shows as well the methods that the Borno sultan used in order to assert his strength.

Borno sultan

Mamluk sultan

Min al-mutawakkil ʿalā llāh taʿālā, al-malik alajall, sayf al-islām wa-rabīʿ al-aytām, al-malik al-miqdām, al-qāʾim bi-amr al-raḥmān, almustanṣir bi-llāh, al-manṣūr kull ḥīn wa-awān wa-dahr wa-zamān, al-malik al-ʿadl al-zāhid altaqī l-anjad al-amjad al-ghashamsham, fakhr al-dīn, zayn al-islām, quṭb al-jalāla, sulālat alkuramāʾ, kahf al-ṣudūr, miṣbāḥ al-ẓalām, Abī ʿAmr ʿUthmān al-malik b. Idrīs al-ḥājj amīr almuʾminīn al-marḥūm—karrama llāh ḍarīḥahu wa-adāma dhurriyyat hādhā bi-mulkihi—hādhā l-lafẓ wārid ʿalā [lisān] kātibinā li-ālinā wa-lā fakhr.

Ilā malik al-miṣr al-jalīl, arḍ Allāh al-mubāraka umm al-dunyā. Salām ʿalaykum aʿṭar min al-misk al-adhfar, wa-aʿdhab min māʾ alghamām wa-l-yamm—zāda llāh mulkakum wa-sulṭānakum— wa-salām alā julasāʾikum wafuqahāʾikum wa-ʿulamāʾikum al-ladhīna yadrusūna l-Qurʾān wa-l-ʿulūm, wa-jamāʿatikum, waahl ṭāʿatikum ajmaʿīn.

56 57 58

Kahl, Zi’baq 495. See below. I would like to thank Doris Behrens-Abouseif for suggesting this hypothesis.

670

dewière

(cont.)

Borno sultan

Mamluk sultan

From him who depends on God the Exalted, the most sublime ruler, the sword of Islam, the spring of the orphans, the brave warrior, the protector of the affairs of the Merciful, he who seeks victory in God, the victorious commander at every time and place, the just and pious ruler, the pious, the courageous, the glorious, the energetic, the pride of religion, the ornament of Islam, the ‘pole’ of majesty, the descendent of the noble forefathers, the cave of secrets, the bright lamp in darkness, the sublime ruler Abū ʿAmr ʿUthmān b. al-ḥājj Idrīs, the late Commander of the Believers—may God bless his grave and perpetuate his offspring through his authority. These words emanate from the tongue of our scribe on behalf of our people and there is no reason to boast [about it].59

To the sublime ruler of Egypt, the blessed land of God and the center of the world. Greetings more fragrant than the scent of musk and sweeter than the fresh rainwater—may God expand your rule and increase your authority. And greetings also to the members of your court, your jurists, your ʿulamāʾ who learn the Quran and the other sciences, your people and all the people who obey you.60

Our first observation is that the laqab of the Borno sultan is more extensive than that of the Mamluk sultan. This might be a consequence of the lack of knowledge in Borno about Mamluk chancery practice but it also shows that the Bornoan sultan is trying to impress his addressee with his use of titles and to assert his Islamic legitimacy. We can also assume that the poetic form of the laqab is an expression of sultanic power.61 This laqab, on the other hand, is very different from the Mamluk one, and it seems that the Borno chancery uses the practices of Maghrib: the first title of the Borno sultan, min al-Mutawkkil ʿalā llāh (From him who depends on God the Exalted) is similar to the one used by the Hafsids.62 We can also observe that the Mamluk ruler only bears the title of malik, whereas the Borno sultan’s father and predecessor bears the title of 59 60 61 62

Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā viii, 117; trans. by the author. Ibid.; trans. by the author. Each title finishes with “ām,” “ān,” “an” or “am.” I would like to thank Mounira ChapoutotRemadi for her comments on the Borno titles. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā viii, 79.

“peace be upon those who follow the right way”

671

malik as well as that of amīr al-muʾminīn. Nevertheless, the importance of the Mamluk sultan is emphasized by the status of Egypt, “the center of the world.” Perhaps we could say that the importance and the centrality of Mamluk Egypt is recognized by the Borno chancery, but the Borno sultan tried to establish himself in an equal relation with the Mamluk ruler. They are both malik, but the Borno rulers can also bear the title of amīr al-muʾminīn, a title that lost its value during the eighth/fourteenth century, but which is nevertheless superior to a simple malik.63 This hypothesis seems to be confirmed by the genealogical and religious arguments mobilized in this letter. The genealogy used by the Borno ruler in the letter is a means to legitimize his power. This argument is recorded several times in the history of the dynasty. The dynasty in Borno is said to come from Sayf b. Dhī Yazan, the Yemeni hero from the Ḥimyar dynasty that expelled the Ethiopians from Arabia. This link seems to have been known and accepted in the Arab world from the seventh/thirteenth century onwards.64 What seems new is the link that the Borno sultans make between the Ḥimyarī and the Quraysh, which is explained in the letter: Wa-naḥnu Banū Sayf b. Dhī Yazan, w[ālid] qabīlatinā, al-ʿArabī l-Qurashī, kadhā ḍabaṭnāhu ʿan shuyūkhinā. We are the sons of Sayf b. Dhī Yazan, the father of our tribe, the Arab, the Qurayshī; thus do we register our pedigree as handed down by our shaykhs.65 This argument is rejected by al-Qalqashandī, who argued that the genealogical construction is not credible. Nevertheless, this is not the only reference in Borno literature to a link between Quraysh and Ḥimyar that was intended to give the Sefuwa a sharifal legitimacy; we find the same argument in 985/1578 in the narrative by Imam Aḥmad b. Furṭū (fl. tenth/sixteenth century) about his sultan, Idrīs b. ʿAlī (r. 971–1004/1564–96):66 Sulṭānunā amīr al-muʾminīn wa-khalīfat rabb al-ʿālamīn fī iqlīm Barnū lḥājj Idrīs b. ʿAlī b. … Sayf b. Dhī Yazan min nasl Ḥimyar wa-min najl Quraysh. 63 64 65 66

Lewis, The political language 43. The title amīr al-muʾminīn was in use in West Africa until the nineteenth century. Smith, The legend 20. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā viii 117; trans. Levtzion and Hopkins, Corpus 347. Smith, The legend 25–30.

672

dewière

Our Sultan, the commander of the believers (amīr al-muʾminīn) and caliph of the Lord of the Universe, in the Borno region, al-ḥājj Idrīs b. ʿAlī b. … Sayf b. Dhī Yazan from the seed of Himyar and the offspring of Quraysh.67 Finally, we can also see that the Borno scribe uses many religious arguments to strengthen his position. The presence of religious arguments in diplomatic correspondence is common. We have many examples of these practices in the correspondence between the Mamluks and the Mongols.68 Their extensive use in the Borno letter is therefore not surprising, and confirms the letter’s belonging in the Islamic world. The religious arguments are of two kinds: first, they insist on the equality between the two rulers, and second, they emphasize the independence of Borno from the Mamluks.

Arguments on equality between believers

Argument on the ruler’s duty of justice in his land

And the believers, men and women, are protecting friends of one another; they command the right and forbid the wrong (Q. 9:71).

The sultan is God’s shadow on earth, to whom everyone resorts who has suffered wrong.69

So judge between them by that which God hath revealed and follow not their desires (Q. 5:49). And if God had not repelled some men by others the earth would have been corrupted (Q. 2:251). The Muslims are like a building; they will bind each other till the Day of Judgment (al-Bukhārī, al-Ṣaḥīḥ, Book 43, no. 626).

67 68 69 70

It is a duty to enjoin the right on everyone who is vouchsafed authority on earth, and on those who are within reach of it. If he cannot command it then let him enjoin it with his tongue; if he cannot then with his heart.70 As for those who strive in Us, We surely guide them to Our paths, and lo! God is with the good (Q. 29:69).

London, Royal Asiatic Society, MS 29 55 (trans. by the author). Aigle, Anthropologie religieuse 133. This proverb insists on the compassionate character of the ruler; it conveys the sense of a protective covering. Many ḥadīths resemble this sentence. Kassis, The book of proverbs 66. The author says it comes from “al-ḥikma” (wisdom), without mentioning its exact origin.

“peace be upon those who follow the right way”

673

(cont.)

Arguments on equality between believers

Argument on the ruler’s duty of justice in his land

The believer is the believer’s brother, he will not wrong him nor forsake him (Muslim, al-Ṣaḥīḥ, Book 32, no. 6219).

Each of you is a shepherd, and each of you is responsible for his flock (Muslim, al-Ṣaḥīḥ, Book 20, no. 4496). But for the sultan you would eat each other. O David! Lo! We have set thee as a viceroy upon the earth; therefore, judge aright between mankind, and follow not desire that it beguile thee from the doom, forasmuch as they forgot the Day of Reckoning (Q. 38:26).

The Quran and the ḥadīth from the Ṣaḥīḥs by al-Bukhārī (d. 256/870) and Muslim (d. 261/875) are the two main sources of religious arguments used by the letter’s author. Another source is mentioned, namely what the author calls alḥikma. Nehemia Levtzion and Antony Hopkins suggest that al-ḥikma, or “the wisdom,” is probably the name of a book.71 It is likely that the word ḥikma is a reference to proverbs belonging to the tradition of wisdom literature.72 It appears that the sentence used by the author of the letter is very similar to a passage of the Risāla by Ibn Abī Zayd al-Qayrāwānī (d. 386/996), the famous Mālikī jurist ( faqīh).73 The influence of al-Qayrāwānī’s book in Borno in this early period is not astonishing; we find it in many of our sources, as in the rest of West Africa.74 Sound knowledge of the pillars of Islam was, then, well established. The insistence on equality between believers was then used by the Borno sultan in order to ask his addressee to act in favor of Borno slaves present

71 72 73 74

Levtzion and Hopkins, Corpus 427, note 22. Sellheim, Mat̲h̲al 821. Al-Qayrāwānī, al-Risāla 201. Palmer, The Bornu Sahara 14; Hamès, La Shâdhiliyya; Ross, A historical geography 16; Dewière, Aḥmad ibn Furṭū 37.

674

dewière

in the markets of Egypt and Syria. At the same time, the Borno sultan insists that each sultan has a duty to protect Muslims in his own land. This could be a means to claim an equal status between the two rulers under Islam.

3

The Mamluk Reception of the Borno Diplomatic Mission

It is hard to know how the Mamluks received the ambassador. It is even harder to know the exact nature of diplomatic relations between the two Muslim powers over the centuries. Nevertheless, we can attempt a partial answer thanks to three different testimonies gathered by al-Qalqashandī.75 The first is a note from ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn ʿAlī b. Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī written in the 730s/1330s.76 The second was written by his famous brother Shihāb al-Dīn Aḥmad b. Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī before 749/1349. Both of them worked in the chancery of Cairo. The third testimony is that of al-Qalqashandī himself, who reproduced the titles used in the answer to the Borno letter from the secretary Zayn al-Dīn Ṭāhir. Several elements can be identified which place the Borno sultanate in the hierarchy of Muslim states established by the Mamluk sultans. In her doctoral research Malika Dekkiche studied this hierarchy.77 She produced a table of categories of rulers by studying the chancery manuals of Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, al-Qalqashandī, and some letters we have at our disposal. Hence, the size of paper, the validation sign (ʿalāma), and the designation (taʿrīf ) give us an idea of the position of Borno in the hierarchy of Muslim states before the letter of 793/1391. The alqāb, or list of titles that the Mamluk chancery used to address foreign rulers, is an element that we can consider and compare with other powers. The alqāb recorded by ʿAlī and Aḥmad b. Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī and alQalqashandī are good indicators of the Mamluk chancery’s view on the Borno sultanate. We can compare these titles with the one used to address other Sahelian rulers, like Mali, between 749/1349 and 793/1391.78

75 76 77 78

Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā viii, 7–11. Salibi, Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī. Dekkiche, Le Caire and her article in this volume. One other text by al-Saḥmāwī is kept at the BnF and covers a later period. It has been published recently. See al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim. A study of this could provide a deeper understanding of a wider period. Bauden, Les Relations 4.

675

“peace be upon those who follow the right way”

Author

Borno

Mali

Mukātabatuhu fī qaṭʿ al-thulth, wa-l-ʿalāma “akhūhu” wal-taʿrīf “ṣāḥib Barnū”

His correspondence is on “third” sized paper. The validation (ʿalāma) is “his brother” and his designation (taʿrīf ) is “ruler of Mali and Ghana”b

al-Mukātaba ilayhi fī qaṭʿ al-thulth, wa-lʿalāma “akhūhu” wa-l-taʿrīf “ṣāḥib Mālī wa-Ghāna”

Aḥmad b. Faḍl May God prolong Allāh al-ʿUmarī the victory of the (d. 749/1349) lofty noble lord, the mighty rulerc

Adāma llāh taʿālā naṣr aljanāb al-karīm al-ʿālī, al-malik al-jalīl

May God prolong the victory of the lofty presence, the Sultand

Adāma llāh taʿālā naṣr almaqarr al-ʿālī, al-sulṭān

al-Qalqashandī May God give (d. 821/1418) strength to the lofty noble lord the mighty rulere

Aʿazza llāh taʿālā jānib al-janāb al-karīm al-ʿālī, al-malik

May God give strength to the lofty noble lord, the mighty rulerf

Aʿazza llāh taʿālā jānib al-janāb al-karīm al-ʿālī, al-malik

ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn ʿAlī b. Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī (769/1368)

a b c d e f

His correspondence is on “third” sized paper. The validation (ʿalāma) is “his brother” and his designation (taʿrīf ) is “ruler of Barnū”a

Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā viii, 8 (trans. by the author). Ibid. 11 (trans. by the author). Ibid. 7 (trans. by the author). Ibid. 10 (trans. by the author). Ibid. 8 (trans. by the author). Ibid. 10 (trans. by the author).

According to ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn ʿAlī b. Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, the dimension of the paper is qaṭʿ al-thulth, both for Borno and Mali. This format, which is equivalent to one third of a cubit, is 19.383cm.79 It shows that Borno was from the third (of four) category of rulers during the Turkish period. In the Orient, this format was reserved for governors of the Ilkhanid dynasty in the seventh/thirteenth century, such as Jalayirids and the states of Maghrib.80 In conjunction with the

79 80

See Dekkiche’s article in this volume, 200. Ibid. 209.

676

dewière

titles used, we can identify the position of the sultan of Borno in the complex hierarchy of the Mamluks. As Malika Dekkiche stated in her doctoral thesis, the titles in the ʿunwān follow a common order: the main laqab, the secondary alqāb, and then the nuʿūt.81 Before this, the formula begins with the iftitāḥ. If we look at the ʿunwān of Borno according to Shihāb al-Dīn Aḥmad b. Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, it seems that the Borno sultanate belonged to the first group in the third category.82 During the Circassian period, there was a change in the classification, and the classification was reduced from four to three main categories. Hence, in 793/1391, the Borno sultanate moved into the second category, first group,83 along with the Qaramanids and the Beyliks of Anatolia. Finally, we can be a little more precise, since the iftitāḥ used by Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī allows us to affirm that the Borno sultanate belonged, during the Turkish period of the Mamluk, in the third category, second group, second level. Finally, for Borno there was not a lot of change between the two periods: the Borno ruler was still considered a malik, and it seems that the Borno sultanate did not undergo a change of status. This classification is particularly interesting if we compare titles used for different states in the dār al-Islām. It is, for example, revealing that the subSaharan sultanates were in the same category as Tlemcen, Ifrīqiya or Fez during the Turkish period or in the same category as the Ottomans before the fall of Constantinople. It shows that the Borno sultanate was considered an important Islamic state that deserved the same etiquette as other Islamic states in Africa. This might also be because Mamluk diplomacy was focused on its eastern neighbors: hence, in terms of etiquette, the Mamluk chancery did not distinguish between North Africa and areas south of the Sahara. Yet, it is interesting to compare two Sahelian sultanates involved in the relations between Cairo and this part of the world: Mali and Borno. Two of our three authors give the same rules for the diplomatic correspondence with Mali and Borno: according to ʿAlī b. Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, the paper, the ʿalāma, and the taʿrīf are the same. On the other hand, al-Qalqashandī wrote the same ʿunwān for the two Sudanic rulers. In contrast, his brother, Aḥmad, uses two different ʿunwān: the main laqab used for Mali is al-maqarr. This laqab is superior to the one usually used, and places Mali between the sec-

81 82 83

Ibid. 203. Dekkiche, Le Caire i, 365. See Dekkiche’s article in this volume, 203. Speaking of Western rulers, Dekkiche points out some discrepancies between the size of paper and the formulae in use in their letters, indicating a certain flexibility regarding the chancery rules (ibid. 209). It must have been the same for the Sudanese rulers.

“peace be upon those who follow the right way”

677

ond and the third category of rulers during the Turkish period.84 On the other hand, its iftitāḥ is the same as that used for the Borno ruler, as well as for the Kanem, which is quite confusing. Finally, the political status of the Mali ruler definitely places him on a superior level to the Borno ruler: the Borno ruler was a malik, the Mali ruler was a sulṭān, a higher level in the political language of Islam.85 The Borno sultanate was not considered by Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī to be the most important kingdom of West Africa, for Mali is “the biggest kingdom of Blacks.”86 On the other hand, the ruler of Kanem, the former state of the Sefuwa dynasty, had an inferior status to Borno during Ibn Faḍl Allāh alʿUmarī’s period: the expression al-janāb al-ʿālī shows that they belong to the third category, but the second group of these.87 This classification shows that in the groups of states in the bilād al-Sūdān, there are, according to the Mamluk chancery, some clear differences between them. It is not surprising to see that in Cairo, after the well-known ḥajj of Mansā Mūsā, Mali was more highly regarded than Borno. This particularity leads us to a small digression: after the Turkish period, the ranking of Mali changed. The ʿunwān that al-Qalqashandī used shows that the Mali ruler was no longer referred to as sulṭān, but was demoted to the rank of malik. We also see that the laqab does not differ from the one used for Borno: during the beginning of the Circassian period, Mali joined Borno in what we can call a relative anonymity. We can say, then, that Mansā Mūsā’s incredible communications operation of 724/1324 was no longer effective, and that the reputation of Mali slowly deteriorated, as the state lost progressively its influence and power.88 If the 793/1391 letter provides us with precious information that allows us to understand the political situation in the Lake Chad area, the present paper goes beyond the message of the letter and focuses on the diplomatic event and the material aspects of the letter. I would like to emphasize three points. The Borno letter must be understood as evidence and part of the writing culture that was already present in Borno. As far as we know, apart from a few verses by a Kanuri poet of the sixth/twelfth century, the diplomatic letter sent by ʿUthmān b. Idrīs and copied by al-Qalqashandī is the first endogenous source

84 85 86 87 88

Dekkiche, Le Caire i, 363. Lewis, The political language 43. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā viii, 9. On the other hand, it is not clear whether Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī had correct information from the Lake Chad area, as the political situation was very chaotic during this period. Levtzion, Ancient Ghana 94.

678

dewière

from sub-Saharan Africa that we have today. The 793/1391 letter might be seen as exceptional but it is proof that diplomatic practices had already crossed the Sahara and were used by Sudanic rulers. An examination of the paper and the organization of the text reveals the connections between the Lake Chad basin, Maghrib, and Egypt. Furthermore, though writing materials were scarce, Borno scribes mastered the art of writing diplomatic letters. The second aim of this paper was to investigate the means used by the Borno ruler to obtain recognition and legitimacy through diplomacy. Following the yearly pilgrimage to Mecca, the Borno ambassador carried out his diplomatic enterprise in Cairo by handing over the royal letter and returning from the Holy Cities and collecting the answer. It reveals a common practice that combines religious mobility and diplomacy across the dār al-Islām. As capital of the Mamluk sultanate and house of the last caliphs, Cairo was at the center of this network. Despite the mistakes identified by al-Qalqashandī in the 793/1391 letter, the Mamluk sultan received the ambassador and answered his letter. Beyond the problem raised by the message of the letter, the answer of the Mamluk chancery shows that the Borno ruler succeeded in his primary goal: he was considered a legitimate political leader by the Mamluks. This quest for Islamic legitimacy was emphasized by the religious arguments used in the letter, and by the titles and the genealogy the Borno sultan assigns to himself: it is interesting to see that the rulers of Borno considered themselves rulers equal to the Mamluks, though in the letter, Egypt was referred to as the center of the world. The last point concerns the Mamluk chancery’s view of Borno and its neighbors. In light of the categories of the Mamluk diplomatic canons for paper and titles, it appears that the Borno sultanate was as highly regarded as other western Islamic powers. Like Morocco, Tlemcen or Ifrīqiya, the Borno sultanate was in the third of four categories of rulers. The comparative study of several authors during the eighth/fourteenth century shows that the view of the Borno sultanate did not change from the Turkish to the Circassian period. What is more surprising than Borno’s status was the status of its neighbor, the sultanate of Mali. Whereas almost all authors consider that Mali had the same status as Borno, Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī raised Mali to a higher status in the hierarchy. This was probably a consequence of the famous pilgrimage of Mansā Mūsā in 724/1324, to which Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī was a direct witness. For several years, it appears that the Mamluk chancery considered Mali to be almost equal to the Rasulids and Jalayirids. Eighty years later, Mali was downgraded and had the same status as Borno. If the memory of Mansā Mūsā’s ḥajj remained strong, it no longer had any impact on the diplomatic correspondence. This situation was also a consequence of the decline of Mali in West Africa. In contrast, the 793/1391 letter from the Borno sultanate can be considered the first symbol

“peace be upon those who follow the right way”

679

of the new rise of the Sefuwa dynasty as a major political actor in west subSaharan Africa: in 889/1484, the visit of a Sefuwa sultan to the caliph in Cairo and its recognition as a legitimate Islamic ruler appear to be the recognition of this resurgence.

Bibliography Primary Sources (Handwritten) Kew (London), National Archives, CO 2/13, vol. 2. London, Royal Asiatic Society, MS 29. Oxford, Weston Library, MS Brit. Emp. s 276 box 14. Paris, BnF, MS fr. 12219–20, 2 vols.

Primary Sources (Printed) Cuoq, J., Recueil des sources arabes concernant l’Afrique occidentale du VIIIe au XVIe siècle (Bilad al-Sudan), Paris 1975. Ibn Aybak al-Dāwādārī, al-Durr al-fākhir fī sīrat al-Malik al-Nāṣir min Kanz al-durar wajāmiʿ al-ghurar, ed. R. Roemer, Cairo 1960. Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, Masālik al-abṣār fī mamālik al-amṣār, trans. M. GaudefroyDemombynes, Paris 1927. Ibn Ḥajar, al-Durar al-kāmina fī aʿyān al-miʾa al-thāmina, Cairo 1350/1931. Ibn Kathīr, al-Bidāya wa-l-nihāya, Cairo 1932. Lange, D., A Sudanic chronicle: The Bornu expeditions of Idris Alauma (1564–1576), according to the account of Ahmad b. Furţū, Stuttgart 1987. Lange, D., Le Diwan des Sultans du (Kanem-) Bornu: Chronologie et histoire d’un royaume africain, Wiesbaden 1977. Levtzion, N. and J.E.P. Hopkins, Corpus of early Arab sources for West African history, Princeton 1981, repr. 2000. al-Maqrīzī, Kitāb al-Sulūk li-maʿrifat duwal al-mulūk, ed. M.M. Ziyāda and S.ʿA. al-F. ʿĀshūr, Cairo 1932. al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā fī ṣināʿat al-inshāʾ, ed. M.ʿA. al-R. Ibrāhīm, 14 vols., Cairo 1913–9, 21963. al-Qayrawānī, al-Risāla, Cairo 2005. al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim fī ṣināʿat al-kātib wa-l-kātim, al-maʿrūf bi-l-Maqṣid alrafīʿ al-munshaʾ al-hādī li-dīwān al-inshāʾ lil-Khālidī, 2 vols., ed. A.M. Anas, Cairo 2009.

680

dewière

Secondary Sources Aigle, D., Anthropologie religieuse de l’Orient musulman médiéval, in Annuaire EPHE, Sciences religieuses 116 (2008), 133–9. Barkindo, B., Le Kanem-Borno, ses relations avec la Méditerranée, le Baguirmi et les autres Etats du bassin du Tchad, in B.A. Ogot (ed.), Histoire générale de l’Afrique, Paris 1999, 577–602. Barkindo, B., The royal pilgrimage tradition of the Saifawa of Kanem and Borno, in J. Ade Ajayi and J. Peel (eds.), People and empires in African history: Essays in memory of Michael Crowder, London 1992, 1–20. Barth, H., Travels and discoveries in north and central Africa, 5 vols., London 1858. Bauden, F., Le parole del potere nelle lettere scambiate tra i Mamelucchi e i Mongoli, in A. Ghersetti (ed.), Il potere della parola, la parola del potere tra Europa e mondo Arabo-Ottomano tra medioevo ed età moderna. Atti della giornata di studio—Venezia 7 novembre 2008, Venice 2010, 87–98. Bauden, F., Les Relations diplomatiques entre les sultans mamlouks circassiens et les autres pouvoirs du Dār al-islām: l’apport du ms. ar. 4440 (BNF, Paris), in AI 41 (2007), 1–29. Birks, J.S., Across the savannas to Mecca: The overland pilgrimage route from West Africa, London 1978. Bivar, A.D.H., Arabic documents of northern Nigeria, in BSOAS 22/2 (1959), 324–49. Bivar, A.D.H., The Arabic calligraphy of West Africa, in African Language Review 7 (1968), 3–15. Björkman, W. et al., Diplomatic, in EI2, ii, 301–16. Bloom, J.M., Paper in Sudanic Africa, in S.B. Diagne and S. Jeppie, The meanings of Timbuktu, Cape Town 2008, 45–55. Bondarev, D., The language of the glosses in the Bornu Quranic manuscripts, in BSOAS 69/1 (2006), 113–40. Bosworth, C.E., Christian and Jewish religious dignitaries in Mamlûk Egypt and Syria: Qalqashandî’s information on their hierarchy, titulature, and appointment (I), in IJMES 3/1 (1972), 59–74. Brenner, L., The Shehus of Kukawa: A history of the al-Kanemi dynasty of Bornu, New York and Oxford 1973. Dekkiche, M., Le Caire, carrefour des ambassades. Étude historique et diplomatique de la correspondance échangée entre les sultans mamlouks circassiens et les souverains timourides et turcomans (Qara Qoyunlu—Qaramanides) au XVe s. d’après le ms. ar. 4440 (BnF, Paris), 2 vols., PhD dissertation, University of Liège 2011. Dewière, R., Aḥmad ibn Furṭū, portrait d’un ʿālim soudanais du XVIe siècle, in N. Melis and M. Nobili (eds.), Futūḥ al-buldān, Sources for the study of Islamic societies, Rome 2013, 39–54. Drocourt, N., La Place de l’écrit dans les contacts diplomatique du haut Moyen Âge.

“peace be upon those who follow the right way”

681

Le cas des relations entre Byzance et ses voisins (de la fin du VIIe siècle à 1204), in L’Autorité de l’écrit au Moyen Âge (Orient-Occident): XXXIXe Congrès de la SHMESP (Le Caire, 30 avril–5 mai 2008), Paris 2009, 25–43. El-Jetti, M., Tripoli dans les récits des voyageurs marocains aux XVIIe et XVIIIe siècles, paper presented at the round table Tripoli, port de mer, port de désert, organized by A. Abidi, R. Dewière, and G. Isiksel, Paris, November, 25–26, 2011. Fadl Hasan, Y., The Arabs and the Sudan, Khartoum 1973. Faroqhi, S., Pilgrims and sultans: The hajj under the Ottomans, London 1990. Gacek, A., Arabic manuscripts. A vademecum for readers, Leiden and Boston 2009. Gwarzo, H.I., Seven letters from the Tripoli archives, in Kano Studies 1/4 (1968), 50– 67. al-Hajj, M., Some diplomatic correspondence of the Seifuwa Mais of Borno with Egypt, Turkey and Morocco, in B. Usman and M. Nur Alkali (eds.), Studies in the history of the pre-colonial Borno, Kano 1983, 156–74. Hamès, C., La Shâdhiliyya ou l’origine des confréries islamiques en Mauritanie, in Cahiers de recherche du Centre Jacques Berque 3 (2005), 7–19. Hamès, C., Les Manuscrits arabo-africains: des particularités?, in REMMM 99–100 (2002), 169–82. Holl, A., Ethnoarchaeology of Shuwa Arab settlements, Lanham 2003. Holl, A., The diwan revisited, Londres 2000. Hunwick, J., and R.S. O’Fahey (eds.), Arabic literature of Africa (vol. 2), The writings of central Sudanic Africa, Leiden 1995. Insoll, T., The archaeology of Islam in sub-Saharan Africa, Cambridge 2003. Jomier, J., Le Maḥmal et la caravane égyptienne des pèlerins de La Mecque (XIIe–XXe siècles), Cairo 1956. Kahl, O., Ziʾbaq, in EI2, xi, 495–6. Kassis, R.A., The book of proverbs and Arabic proverbial works, Leiden 1999. Lavers, J.E., Adventures in the chronology of the states of the Chad Basin, in D. Barreteau and C. Von Graffenried (eds.), Datation et chronologie dans le bassin du lac Tchad, Paris 1992, 255–67. Lavers, J.E., Islam in the Bornu caliphate: A survey, in Odu 5 (1971), 27–53. Levtzion, N., Ancient Ghana and Mali, New York and London 1973, 1980. Lewis, B., The political language of Islam, Chicago and London 1988. Lydon, G., A thirst for knowledge: Arabic literacy, writing paper and Saharan bibliophiles in the southwestern Sahara, in Lydon and G. Krätli (eds.), The Trans-Saharan book trade, manuscript culture, Arabic literacy and intellectual history in Muslim Africa, Leiden 2011, 35–72. Lydon, G., On trans-Saharan trails, Islamic law, trade networks, and cross-cultural exchange in nineteenth-century western Africa, Cambridge 2008. Martin, A.G.P., Les Oasis sahariennes, Paris 1908.

682

dewière

Martin, B., Five letters from the Tripoli archives, in Journal of the Historical Society of Nigeria 2/3 (1962), 350–72. Martin, B., Kanem, Bornu, and the Fazzan: Notes on the political history of a trade route, in JAH 10/1 (1969), 15–27. al-Naqar, U., Takrur, the history of a name, in JAH 10/3 (1969), 365–74. al-Naqar, U., The pilgrimage tradition in West Africa, Khartoum 1972. Nobili, M., Arabic scripts in West African manuscripts: A tentative classification from the de Gironcourt Collection, in Islamic Africa 2/1 (2011), 105–33. Nur Alkali, M., Economic factors in the history of Borno under the Sefuwa, in B. Usman and Nur Alkali (eds.), Studies in the history of the pre-colonial Borno, Kano 1983, 57– 77. Palmer, H.R., Sudanese memoirs, 3 vols. in 1, London 1928, 21967. Palmer, H.R., The Bornu Sahara and Sudan, London 1936. Richards, D.S., A Mamlūk emir’s ‘square’ decree, in BSOAS 54/1 (1991), 63–7. Robinson, A.E., The Mahmal of the Moslem pilgrimage, in JRAS 63/1 (1931), 117–27. Ross, E., A historical geography of the trans-Saharan trade, in G. Lydon and G. Krätli (eds.), The Trans-Saharan book trade: Manuscript culture, Arabic literacy and intellectual history in Muslim Africa, Leiden 2011, 1–34. Salibi, K.S., Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, in EI2, iii, 758–9. Sellheim, R., Mat̲h̲al, in EI2, vi, 815–25. Smith, A., The legend of the Seifuwa: A study in the origins of a tradition of origin, in B. Usman and M. Nur Alkali (eds.), Studies in the history of the pre-colonial Borno, Kano 1983, 16–56. Triaud, J.-L., Idris Alaoma, in C.-A. Julien (ed.), Les Africains, vol. 3, Paris 1977, 45–71. Vallet, É., Du système mercantile à l’ordre diplomatique: les ambassades entre Egypte mamlūke et Yémen rasūlide (VIIe–IXe/XIIIe–XVe siècle), in Les Relations diplomatiques au Moyen Âge. Formes et enjeux, Paris 2011, 269–301. Vallet, É., L’Arabie marchande. État et commerce sous les sultans rasûlides du Yémen (626–858/1229–1454), Paris 2010. Walz, T., Gold and silver exchanges between Egypt and Sudan, 16th–18th centuries, in J.F. Richards (ed.), Precious metals in the later medieval and early modern worlds, Durham NC 1983, 305–25. Walz, T., Trade between Egypt and Bilād al-Takrūr in the XVIIIth century, paper given at The Economic History of the Central Savanna of West Africa, Kano, Nigeria, 5– 10 January 1976, available online (http://www.academia.edu/740367/Trade_between _Egypt_and_bilad_al‑Takrur_in_the_eighteenth_century). Wright, J., Libya, Chad and the central Sahara, London 1989. Zeltner, J.-C., Pages d’histoire du Kanem, pays Tchadien, Paris 1980.

part 6 The Latin West

∵

chapter 22

The European Embassies to the Court of the Mamluk Sultans in Cairo Pierre Moukarzel

Egypt and Syria played a leading role in the political and military concerns of, but also the religious and especially the commercial interests of numerous European powers at the end of the Middle Ages. The religious, political, and military domains were under the influence of the Mamluks, who succeeded the Ayyubids in 648/1250 and ruled over the Holy Land. On the economic plane, Egypt and Syria occupied an important place in the commercial map in the Mediterranean Sea, where spices and products coming from Far East arrived. So, the European traders regularly frequented the Levantine markets to look for these foodstuffs that were much sought after in Europe. In order to encourage trade and favorable conditions for the growth of the commercial activities of European traders, and protect European nationals, it was necessary to conclude treaties, and renew commercial decrees between the Western powers and the sultans.1 Therefore, regular negotiations were undertaken and embassies were sent to Cairo. The claims of the European trading cities continued throughout the eighth/fourteenth and ninth/fifteenth centuries and occupied the largest part of treaties with the sultans, because they constituted a means to exercise a certain pressure on the sultan and to oppose his commercial policy: repeatedly, the functioning of the lines of maritime transport with the East was interrupted; threats to suspend the business were sent to the sultans; in each case affairs were resolved when embassies were sent to deal with the sultan and conclude treaties that guaranteed their business and protected their traders and goods. But the sultans were not easily resigned to accept the successive claims and repeated petitions from the European cities.2 In 690/1291, with the fall of Acre and the defeat of the Latin states on the Syrian coast, the trade between Europe and the Levant was devastated. But from the beginning of the eighth/fourteenth century, and in spite of the papal prohibitions, the trade with regions under the suzerainty of the sultan began

1 For these issues, see Frantz-Murphy’s article in this volume. 2 Moukarzel, La Ville de Beyrouth 181–3.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2019 | doi:10.1163/9789004384637_023

686

moukarzel

again and grew from the second half of the eighth/fourteenth century and throughout the ninth/fifteenth century.3 Many diplomatic treaties were concluded between the main European trade cities and the Mamluk sultans being the fruit of different governmental policies of the Europeans. These treaties were the result of regular embassies sent to the court of the Mamluk sultans in Cairo; these embassies resolved the problems that arose between the European traders settled in the Levant and the local Mamluk authorities, and obtained the most favorable conditions for trade. The representatives of the European states thus maintained distinct relationships with the sultans because of the combination of political and military, religious, and economic issues. These relations were the object of constant attention and regular efforts at negotiation, and the continuous claims of the European envoys to Cairo formed a kind of pressure on the sultan to maintain their concessions and obtain new ones. But even after their conclusion, many vicissitudes still threatened the negotiations and the treaties. The commercial relations between the states on the shores of the Mediterranean Sea remained fragile indeed: the acts of piracy and the indiscipline of the European traders facing the regulations and the measures imposed by the Mamluk authorities very often entailed reprisals from the sultans against the European communities settled in the ports and the cities of the Mamluk sultanate. Embassies were often sent by European sovereigns to put right the situation and renew the commercial decrees. The preservation of a climate of goodwill was indeed considered indispensable to the realization of fruitful exchanges between European cities and the Mamluk sultanate. These recurring incidents, which were increasingly frequent in the eighth/fourteenth and the ninth/fifteenth centuries till the end of the Mamluk era, entailed, for example, the departure of twenty-six embassies from the kings of Aragon to Cairo between 689/1290 and 792/1390; sixteen embassies from Venice to Cairo between 701/1302 and 895/1490, and five between 907/1502 and 921/1516; thirteen embassies from Genoa between 689/1290 and 901/1496; five embassies from Florence to Cairo between 825/1422 and 902/1497; one embassy from Milan in 768/1367; one from Pisa in 785/1383; one from Rhodes in 805/1403; three embassies from France in 727/1327, 825/1422, and 851/1447; one from the kingdom of Naples in 888/1483; one from Hungary in 893/1488; and one from Ragusa in 920/1515. All these embassies aimed to strengthen the relationships with the sultans.4 3 For information about the papal prohibitions, see Heyd, Histoire du commerce ii, 23–57; Trenchs Odena, De Alexandrinis. 4 Coulon, Barcelone 44–51; Atiya, Egypt and Aragon; Thomas, Diplomatarium i, 30, 58, 292–6 and ii, 19–23, 80, 113–5, 168–71, 320–7, 353–7, 373–8; Wansbrough, Venice and Florence; Rossi,

the european embassies to the court of the mamluk sultans

687

The instructions given to the ambassadors and the extant agreements provide abundant materials that inform us about the habits and the diplomatic customs followed in the negotiations between the European sovereigns and the sultans. We can add to these sources the information quoted in the chronicles, the memoirs of the ambassadors, and the accounts of the pilgrims and the travelers who were eyewitnesses; these allow a detailed study of the diplomatic relations with the sultans. Two aspects deserve analysis: the form of the negotiations, and the style adopted in the writing of the correspondence and the treaties concluded. My contribution is divided into two parts: in the first part, I study the course of the negotiations between the European envoys to Cairo and the sultans, and in the second part, I analyze the specific style adopted in the correspondence exchanged and the treaties that were concluded between the sultans and the European rulers.

1

The Form of the Negotiations with the Mamluk Sultans

Diplomatic sources show us that the great majority of embassies were sent by the Europeans to the sultans and not the opposite, with a few rare exceptions.5 This disequilibrium can be explained by the very uneven distribution of the sources preserved in the centers of European and Arabic archives. Indeed, it is well known that the Arabic documentation of the medieval period largely disappeared and it is from the collections of the European archives that documents written in Arabic and sent to the European rulers reached us. The archives of Venice, Florence, Barcelona, Genoa, and Ragusa preserve documents which reveal that the Mamluk diplomatic initiatives to the Europeans were very limited. In fact, the uneven distribution of embassies between Europe and the sultans can be explained by a combination of economic, political, and even religious factors.6 From the twelfth century, Europe started to export large quantities of its productions to the East. This situation occurred as a result of European industrial development and naval domination, which was related to their large number of ships and the availability of wood and met-

Ambasciata 79–115; Reinaud, Traités; Pedani Fabris, Gli ultimi accordi; Amari, I diplomi arabi 315, 338–40, 363–70; Silvestre de Sacy, Pièces diplomatiques, 33–74; Musso, Nuovi documenti; Paoli, Codice 108–10; Lot, Essai; d’ Escouchy, Chronique 121–4; Korkut, Arapski dokumenti 12–5, 22–6, 38–43; van Ghistele, Voyage 40–5; Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iii, 248. 5 Wansbrough, A Mamluk ambassador; Heyd, Histoire du commerce ii, 488–90, 493; Ashtor, Levant trade 497–9; Ghinzoni, Un ambasciatore. 6 Coulon, Barcelone 45–6.

688

moukarzel

als. In the evolution of these exchanges, trade knew only a single direction. Throughout this period, the European traders went to the East, while indications of Muslim traders in Europe were very rare.7 Because of the concessions granted to the Europeans who frequented territories under the authority of the sultan, the eastern traders did not need to go to Europe as long as the trade exchanges passed through their territory. On the other hand, Europe became the main consumer of spices and products brought from various regions of the Indian Ocean, so the Europeans were in a situation that obliged them to come to Cairo to negotiate regularly the best conditions of trade with the sultans. Therefore, European rulers, rather than the sultans, took the initiative of the negotiations with the Mamluk sultans. With the aim of maintaining the progress of trade and the establishment of good relations with the Mamluk authorities, European cities and states perfected a diplomatic service to surmount the numerous crises in their relations with the Mamluks. As soon as a crisis appeared, a special envoy was charged with negotiating the urgent affair directly with the sultan. Before leaving his sovereign, a diplomatic envoy would receive an official letter for the sultan, which introduced his name and rank and explained the reasons for his mission. According to the political situation and the gravity of the affair which was to be treated, the European rulers could choose to send either an ambassador charged to discuss the affair and decide about it, or a diplomatic envoy or even a messenger who only referred a message to the sultan and nothing else. The negotiators of the Italian cities were chosen from among prestigious families by order of the government and the trading class engaged in maritime trade, while the Catalan, French, and Ragusan embassies consisted of traders who were required to accompany the royal officers in their diplomatic missions or to lead negotiations with the sultans. The ambassadors were mostly accompanied by other envoys who assisted them or who sometimes shared the same title. So, in the event that one accidentally failed in his mission, the embassy pursued its mission and assured the delivery of the message to its addressee. The presence of a second envoy allowed the members of the embassy to exercise control over each other.8 We know about the protocol from the arrival of the embassy in Alexandria9 until its final destination at the citadel of Cairo, where the sultan lived, from the accounts written by the Florentine ambassadors Felice Brancacci in 1422 7 Moukarzel, La Ville de Beyrouth 711–2. 8 Coulon, Négocier avec les sultans 511–4. 9 The European embassies traveled to Egypt by sea, and when they arrived, their first stop was Alexandria.

the european embassies to the court of the mamluk sultans

689

and Luigi della Stufa in 1488; that of the Venetian ambassadors Pietro Diedo in 1489, Benedetto Sanudo and Domenico Trevisan who were in charge of a diplomatic mission to the sultans in 1502 and 1512; and the testimony of the Flemish pilgrim Joos van Ghistele, who accompanied the embassy of the king of Naples in 1483. The envoys were escorted by the mihmandār10 of the sultan with numerous Mamluks in a procession on horseback with the rest of the suite on donkeys. These accounts also underline the means chosen by the sultans and the European ambassadors to impress each other.11 To fulfil his mission, an envoy also required a suite: servants and above all a cook were very useful during his stay in Egypt. Moreover, the magnificence of a huge suite could impress and lend more importance to the mission. If the nationals of the ambassador were not numerous in Cairo, the ambassador appealed to all the traders in town to accompany him to the court of the sultan to increase their numbers and enhance the brightness of their procession.12 In Cairo, the European messengers were led to a residence which was reserved for them: the Venetian ambassador Domenico Trevisan slept in a luxurious palace, of which “the walls were covered with sculptures, beams and panellings glittered with gilts.”13 The day after the arrival of the ambassadors in Cairo, they received large quantities of provisions composed of poultry (chickens, geese), sheep, sweets and watermelons, sugar, honey, and rice from the sultan.14 The ambassadors waited five to six days before seeing the sultan.15 When the sultan fixed a date to welcome them, 10

11 12

13 14

15

The mihmandār was the officer who received the ambassadors and the amirs of the Bedouins who came from distant regions of the sultanate or from foreign countries. Gaudefroy-Demombynes, La Syrie lxii. Trevisan, Le Voyage d’outremer 180; Catellaci, Diario 169–70; Howard, Venise 84–5; Corti, Relazione 254; Tripodi, Viaggi 424–5. In 1367, Galeazzo Visconti, ruler of Milan, asked the doge of Venice for a recommendation to the Milanese ambassador Pietro da Castiglione for the assistance of the Venetian traders in Egypt and for a grant of the money he needed for his mission. Predelli, I libri commemoriali iii, 60. In 1483, before going to the sultan, the ambassador of the king of Naples and the ambassador of Cyprus asked all the European traders in Cairo to join them. Van Ghistele, Voyage 41. Trevisan, Le Voyage d’ outremer 181. Ibid. 181–2; Catellaci, Diario 170–1; Howard, Venise 84; Tripodi, Viaggi 425. The Florentine ambassador Luigi della Stufa received from the sultan, in addition to the provisions, a sum of sixty ducats. Corti, Relazione 254. Felice Brancacci arrived in Cairo on 2 September and visited the sultan on 7 September 1422; Domenico Trevisan arrived in Cairo on 4 May 1512 and visited the sultan on 10 May. Catellaci, Diario, 170–1; Trevisan, Le Voyage d’outremer 189. The Florentine ambassador Luigi della Stufa was the only one among these envoys who visited the sultan two days after his arrival in Cairo: he arrived in Cairo on 21 July 1488 and visited the sultan two days later. Corti, Relazione 254; Tripodi, Viaggi 425.

690

moukarzel

the messengers, accompanied by the Mamluks and the officers of the sultan, were brought to the citadel of Cairo, which was prepared in advance to make the most significant effect on the messengers.16 They were then introduced to the sultan at the moment considered most convenient, while surrounded by chamberlains and interpreters. The narratives of the official receptions offered by the sultan in the citadel of Cairo were extensive and include descriptions of the grandiose sultan and the magnificent architecture of the palace, costumes, decorations, carpets, rites, music, and exchanges of presents. The sultan solemnly welcomed the ambassadors, while sitting on his throne with a sword and a shield on his right, surrounded with armed men, with all his councilors, secretaries, clerks, and other scribes placed according to their ranks. Slaves played the lute and flute, sang and beat kettledrums and drums.17 When they arrived before the sultan, the ambassadors and all those who accompanied them knelt down several times and kissed the ground. When they had approached the sultan in twelve steps, they stood up straight and were calmly granted permission to speak, aloud, the message they came to deliver. As soon as the ambassador had made his communication, the chief interpreter of the sultan repeated the speech in Arabic.18 According to Joos van Ghistele, who was present during the reception of the ambassador of the king of Naples, the chief interpreter of the sultan sent the translation of the speech to the nāẓir al-khāṣṣ19 who was standing about three steps to the left of the sultan. The nāẓir al-khāṣṣ repeated the speech to the amir (al-amīr al kabīr), who had the highest rank, and who was three steps from the sultan. This amir, when he had heard the communication, approached the seat of the sultan, and although the sultan had already heard these words clearly, he repeated them to the sultan once again, in a loud voice, in the same way they had been pronounced by the others.20 After this, the sultan himself answered in a loud voice. Later, the ambassadors left by walking backwards and repeatedly

16 17 18 19 20

Catellaci, Diario 170–1; van Ghistele, Voyage 42; Corti, Relazione 255. Catellaci, Diario 172; Trevisan, Le Voyage d’ outremer 183–4; Corti, Relazione 255. Catellaci, Diario 172; Trevisan, Le Voyage d’ outremer 185. A financial agent in charge of the administration of the sultan’s properties. GaudefroyDemombynes, La Syrie lxxi. Joos van Ghistele noted that if it happened that one of the two grand officers (the nāẓir al-khāṣṣ and the great amir Ḥasan Bāy) was absent, there were two others (the dawādār and the kātib al-sirr) who were used to receive the communications. Van Ghistele, Voyage 44. The dawādār was the carrier of the writing case responsible of the sultan’s correspondence; the kātib al-sirr was the secretary of the state who was charged to read the letters sent to the sultan, to write answers to these letters, to affix the signature of the sultan on the letters, and to send them. Gaudefroy-Demombynes, La Syrie lvii, lxix–lxxi.

the european embassies to the court of the mamluk sultans

691

kissing the ground as they had when they arrived. While leaving the citadel, the ambassadors were escorted with great pomp and ceremony to their lodging house by various Mamluk officers.21 All these gestures showed the respect the ambassadors professed for so great a sovereign; they were intended to satisfy the sultan. The main purpose of their missions was to honor the sultan, in words and in acts, to obtain from him a favorable answer to their requests and to reach the desired end of their missions. For his part, the sultan showed the ambassadors that he was a great sovereign, the symbol of justice and power, and that his consent to answer their requests was needed. Sometimes the negotiations did not end in a single audience, and the ambassadors appeared several times in front of the sultan. The Florentine ambassador Felice Brandacci met the sultan Barsbāy three times; the sultan Qāytbāy received the Florentine ambassador Luigi della Stufa twice and also the Venetian ambassador Pietro Diedo twice; the Venetian ambassador Domenico Trevisan, for more than two months, responded to seven audiences with Sultan Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī: the first took place on 23 Ṣafar 918/10 May 1512 and the seventh on 13 Jumāda II/26 July 1512. The duration of each audience varied between one and three hours; each audience was in a different place, inside rooms in the citadel, or in the sultan’s garden outside the citadel, near its wall.22 Most of the embassies sent to obtain commercial facilities from the sultan included presents, as did those embassies in which favorable answers were received from the sultan. The formal presents were a part of the token gestures that translated to harmonious relations between the peoples. They often evoked the history or the traditions of the country that offered them. The official delivery of the diplomatic presents was naturally a regular practice. The presentation of presents did not follow a definite protocol: presents were offered to the sultan while he was waiting for the arrival of the ambassador,23 at the time of the reception of the ambassador by the sultan,24 or during the second audience with the sultan.25 Very often, the sovereigns exchanged presents which were most in demand and highly valued in their respective lands, products which were most sought after and desirable during that time. The presents had an extrinsic value, as they were a sign of the gratitude of the rank of the donee who may take offense if the presents were not equal to his rank or if they were not accompanied with the marks of punctilious respect. Valuable 21 22 23 24 25

Catellaci, Diario 172; van Ghistele, Voyage 45–6; Trevisan, Le Voyage d’outremer 186. Catellaci, Diario 171, 173, 180; Trevisan, Le Voyage d’ outremer 189, 190, 194, 197, 203, 205. Trevisan, Le Voyage d’ outremer 186–8. Van Ghistele, Voyage 40–4. Catellaci, Diario 173; Tripodi, Viaggi 425.

692

moukarzel

cloths and fabrics, satin and velvet dresses, and furs constituted the first category of presents which the ambassadors brought to the sultan, but presents often included cheeses,26 hawks or gyrfalcons,27 which were counted among the most appreciated presents, or they consisted of a variety of weapons and armor.28 The sultan expressed his consent and satisfaction by offering the European rulers luxurious fabrics and pieces of cloth, balsam, incense, incense stick for the mouth, aloe, bow rings (to string bows), cross-bows, expensive spices such as green ginger and pepper, fine sugar, pieces of porcelain in various shapes, such as bowls, plates, bottles, and dishes,29 and if the sultan wished to honor the ambassador, he gave him, during the last audience, a silk dress lined with ermine. The act of honoring the ambassador reflected the honor and the respect reserved to his sovereign.30 The first function of a present was to thank or show one’s will to bring the two together (i.e., it had a more or less political purpose); these exchanges constituted a way to concretize the nature of the existing relations between those giving the gift and those receiving it. The steps associated with the exchange of presents mainly functioned to facilitate the conclusion of a treaty, 26 27

28 29

30

Catellaci, Diario 326; Rossi, Ambasciata 78–9; Trevisan, Le Voyage d’outremer 186–7. Atiya, Egypt and Aragon 62. In 1330, the king of Aragon Alphonso IV sent a present to Sultan al-Nāṣir Muḥammad. It seemed that this sultan had a penchant for hunting and falconry: during his reign, the European merchants brought hawks and gyrfalcons to the court of the sultan and to the amirs of the highest rank. Lot, Essai 596; ADBR, Fonds Malauzat 381 E-57f20. For more information, see Moukarzel, La Ville de Beyrouth 631–2. In 1367, the Milanese envoy, Pietro da Castiglione, offered gifts to Sultan al-Ashraf Shaʿbān, among them a gyrfalcon. Predelli, I libri commemoriali iii, 56. It seemed that hunting and falconry were practiced by the sultans of Turkish origins; during the reigns of the sultans of Circassian origin (784–923/1382–1517) this type of sport and entertainment was not mentioned in the sources. This may explain why falcons and hawks were not among the gifts presented to the sultans during the ninth/fifteenth and the beginning of the tenth/sixteenth centuries. The king of Naples sent a ship loaded with weapons, firearms, and armor as a present to Sultan Qāytbāy. Van Ghistele, Voyage 40–1. Alarcón y Santón and García de Linares, Los Documentos árabes 346, 361–2; Atiya, Egypt and Aragon 29–30; d’ Escouchy, Chronique i, 124; Wansbrough, A Mamluk letter 209; Howard, Venise 84. According to Joos van Ghistele, Sultan Qāytbāy sent the queen of Cyprus Catherine Cornaro “an oriental gilt garment, an extraordinarily beautiful horse, a golden sword, and two golden spurs.” These presents were different from those usually sent by the Mamluk sultans to the European rulers: Cyprus was subject to the authority of the Mamluk sultans from 829/1426 and paid them an annual levy. Joos van Ghistele interpreted these presents by saying that the sultan wanted to show “that he held the king or the queen of Cyprus as his slave who possessed wealth only with his permission.” Van Ghistele, Voyage 46. D’ Escouchy, Chronique i, 124; Trevisan, Le Voyage d’ outremer 206.

the european embassies to the court of the mamluk sultans

693

to strengthen relations, or to bring about a reconciliation. However, a number of presents were exchanged within the framework of the diplomatic missions that was far removed from these functions, for example, their main motivation was to cultivate relations with the Mamluk authorities. In certain cases, however, presents were less intended to attract the good favor of the Mamluks than to calm their fury following grave incidents, such as acts of piracy, or to smooth over strained diplomatic relations.31 In Venice and Florence the offer of the presents was an effective means to achieve the mission and to make friends among the members of the court of the sultan: in diplomacy, a well placed present, even if it was not a guarantee of success, could make a good impression. The Florentine ambassadors Felice Brancacci and Luigi della Stufa and the Venetian ambassadors Pietro Diedo and Domenico Trevisan offered dresses, pieces of cloth, and cheeses to the wife of the sultan, to the dawādār, the mihmandār, the nāẓir al-khāṣṣ, to the amirs and the officers of the highest ranks.32 Such gifts and presents were, of course, the result of cold political calculations, by which European rulers assured their nationals the peaceful and convenient conditions which were indispensable for the prosperity of their commercial activities in the ports and cities of the Mamluk sultanate. For the sultans, the European presents were seen as symbols of respect and friendship at the level of state power and as evidence of their personal relationships with European rulers. For the Europeans, presents were the means to reach their diplomatic objectives: a military truce and a good political agreement allowed the development of trade and the protection of the traders. Thus, the works of art, the luxurious products, and the industrial specialties of the European cities were not simply goods, but indispensable political tools in the negotiation. Finally, the European embassies charged with diplomatic missions to the Mamluk sultans were an effective vector of cultural diffusion because they contributed to the transport of tangible assets and information from one coun-

31

32

In 1511, Pietro Zen, the Venetian consul in Damascus, was accused of treason by the sultan, who blamed him for receiving letters from Shāh Ismāʿīl, for maintaining a correspondence with this ruler, and sending a messenger to act against the interests of the sultan. In 1512, Venice sent Domenico Trevisan to Cairo to settle this affair. Catellaci, Diario 326–7; Rossi, Ambasciata 79–83; Corti, Relazione 255; Trevisan, Le Voyage d’ outremer 191–2. In 1415, the Venetian Senate fixed a limit of 2,800 ducats for presents offered to Sultan al-Muʾayyad Shaykh and to the members of his court, and in 1421, the Venetian Senate fixed an amount for presents to Sultan Ṭaṭar of up to 2,500 ducats: the sums of money were collected from the Venetian traders who dealt with Egypt and Syria. Jorga, Notes et extraits 544 and 115. For detailed information about Venetian embassies and legislation on ambassadors, see Queller, Early Venetian legislation.

694

moukarzel

try to another. They gave additional meaning to the objects or the messages brought and exchanged, while the places and the circumstances of their acquisition or their reception provided them a series of personal memoirs. All these things contained a part of the information and impressions of the court of the sultan and even on life in the Muslim world. The ambassadors who went to Cairo took advantage of their stay to visit the city. The Florentine ambassadors Felice Brancacci and Luigi della Stufa and the Venetian ambassador Domenico Trevisan frequented markets and shops and inquired about the customs and the life of the inhabitants, the architecture, the monuments, the food, the animals; they visited the pyramids, the churches of Cairo, and Matariyya where the holy family took refuge; and the same Luigi della Stufa traveled to Jerusalem and the places surrounding it while Domenico Trevisan visited the monastery of St. Catherine and Mount Sinai.33 When the ambassadors returned to their countries, they gave a report about their mission, and wrote about the ceremonies and meetings. They also gave political, social, and economic information and they described their travel and their stay in Egypt.34

2

The Correspondence and the Treaties Concluded with the Mamluk Sultans

The form and the style of the written texts exchanged between the European rulers and the sultans followed a sophisticated protocol. Diplomatic style had its own peculiarities in which phrases, sentences, and words were selected to show the grandiosity of the rulers and express mutual respect. The Arabic documents abounded with flowery and redundant phrases and words used for the sake of rhythm and artificial beauty in accordance with the modes and conventions of writing adopted in the period.35 To certify the writing and to avoid any further changes or modifications in the documents issued from the sultan’s chancery, the sultan placed on the joints of the pieces of documents a round seal in red ink with the inscription “May God make the sultan powerful” (ʿazza

33 34

35

Catellaci, Diario 176–8; Corti, Relazione 256–9; Trevisan, Le Voyage d’outremer 197–201, 209–14. In Venice, the official reports were presented by the ambassadors in written form from 1425; this soon became a kind of literary genre since they were full of information about foreign countries. Pedani, Ambassador’s travels 193. For information about the forms of the documents issued by the sultan’s chancery, see Dekkiche’s article in the present volume.

the european embassies to the court of the mamluk sultans

695

naṣruhu): Sultan Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī sealed the safe-conduct document given to the Florentine traders in 913/1507 and the treaty granting provisions to the Ragusans in 920/1515.36 The sultans adopted a series of titles of Arabic, Turkish, and Persian origins. The number, the variety, and the significance of the titles changed from one century to the next according to the circumstances and the events that occurred during the reign of the Mamluk dynasty from the middle of the seventh/thirteenth century till the beginning of the tenth/sixteenth century, in particular with the end of the threat from the crusaders and the Mongols and with the evolution of the sultanate itself into an unchallenged, stable, and pacific monarchy. In the seventh/thirteenth century, the first Mamluk sultans used twelve titles in their correspondence with European rulers.37 Although the early Mamluk sultans were pre-eminent leaders in war, had defended their countries against external enemies, and achieved victories and expanded their authority to the peoples and lands bordering their realm, they were also the mainspring of government and their governmental functions grew in importance over time as they imposed their authority over large areas and successfully defended their borders. In respect to the new circumstances of the sultanate which occurred in the eighth/fourteenth century and the evolution of the sultans’ functions, the sultans adopted a long list of fourteen titles, most of which differed from those of their predecessors.38 Among the Turkish dynasties, the Sultan Shaʿbān (r. 764–78/1363–76) used the longest series of twenty-eight titles while writing to the European sovereigns. This may have 36

37 38

Wansbrough, The safe-conduct 21; Korkut, Arapski dokumenti, docs. 2 and 3. The seal of Sultan Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī was 32 mm in diameter with the inscription: al-sulṭān almalik al-Ashraf Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī ʿazza naṣruhu (May God make powerful the Sultan al-Ashraf Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī). This sultan not only sealed the documents related to the Europeans but also the orders and the decrees sent to the governors and executive officials in his countries. Richards, A late Mamluk document, 21. Sources quoted that some sultans placed seals (ṭamghāh) containing the sultan’s symbol (rank) on the letters exchanged with Mongol khans. Seals were widely used by Mongol khans, and the Mamluk sultans, following the Mongol model, adopted this custom when sending them letters: in 666– 7/1268–9, Sultan Baybars placed his seal on the letter sent to the Mongol khan Abagha; the seal’s symbol of Sultan Baybars was the panther. Amitai-Preiss, An Exchange 30 and note 88. Also, in 818/1415, Sultan al-Muʾayyad Shaykh sent a letter to C̆ akrī (Çeğre) Khān on which he placed his round wooden seal with an engraved circular inscription: al-sulṭān al-aʿẓam al-mālik al-malik al-Muʾayyad Abū l-Naṣr Shaykh ʿazza naṣruhu (May God make powerful the great Sultan the Lord and the victorious ruler al-Muʾayyad Shaykh). Ibn Ḥijja, Qahwat al-inshāʾ 119. Tafel and Thomas, Urkunden 490; Silvestre de Sacy, Pièces diplomatiques 34. Alarcón y Santón and García de Linares, Los Documentos árabes 335; Atiya, Egypt and Aragon 57; Thomas, Diplomatarium i, 290.

696

moukarzel

been related to the invasion and sack of Alexandria in 766/1365 by King Peter I of Cyprus; by using a great number of titles in his negotiations with the Venetians, he efficiently presented himself as grand and powerful, capable of facing danger and assuring the protection and the rescue of the inhabitants of his realm.39 With the beginning of the Circassian dynasty, from the reign of Sultan Barqūq in 784/1382 till 923/1517, the sultans used a long series of titles in their correspondences with the European rulers, varying between twenty-six and thirty-eight titles; these titles reflected their increased position and power. They adopted some of the earlier sultans’ titles and added new ones.40 In the Mamluk era, titles were an extension of Ayyubid titles and depended on the new state’s administration and systems. The fall of the Abbasid caliphate in 656/1258 at the hands of the Mongols and its transfer from Baghdad to Cairo was a blow to the authority of the caliph; after this point, the number of titles attributed to the sultans increased. The great number and variety of titles were intended to reflect his grandiosity, position, and power, such that the sultan appeared as the only defender and protector of Islam and all Muslims. Some titles indicated the authority of the sultan and showed him as a possessor of vast lands from Tripoli on the North African coast, to Egypt, Syria, Yemen, and the southern Arabian Peninsula. In addition, the sultans used titles to legitimate their precarious origins, their position, and their government, by insisting on their nobility, their religious and high secular rank, their leadership of the Muslim world, and their superiority over all the sultans and kings. They wanted to present themselves as the supreme representatives of Islam in the eyes of the Muslims and the Christians of Europe, and so they depicted their military and religious duties to show themselves as great conquerors and commanders of armies, whose main charge was to bear the flag of Islam and defeat Islam’s enemies. In many variants, they emphasized the sultan’s function as a supreme judge who ruled and differentiated between right and wrong. From the beginning of the ninth/fifteenth century to the end of the Mamluk era, as a result of the development of the commercial exchanges between the Mamluk sultanate and Europe, the sultans used some titles, such as “consolidator and governor of the rivers,” “king of the two seas,” “securer of the ways from the east to the west” to reassure the Europeans that all the trade routes in Egypt and Syria, the rivers, the traffic, and the transport of merchandise through the Mediterranean and the Red Sea were safe and under the direct control of the

39 40

Thomas, Diplomatarium ii, 113. Thomas, Diplomatarium ii, 113, 306, 328, 373; Amari, I diplomi arabi 165–6; Wansbrough, Venice and Florence 497.

the european embassies to the court of the mamluk sultans

697

sultans, who provided favorable conditions for commercial activities. Thus, European traders could travel with their merchandise through the Mamluk sultanate to purchase the products they needed without fear or danger. In order to offer juridical guarantees for the Europeans, the sultans presented themselves as “the just,” “the sword of the world and the law,” “sower of justice and goodness,” “congregator of the words of truth,” “reviver of justice among mankind,” “holder of justice in all the world,” “knower of the wrong and the right,” “adjudicator and mediator between [the one] who is wrong and who is right,” “lord of the just people who is concerned with perfect justice,” “father of orphans and widows,” to show themselves as the only guarantors of the preservation of justice. Moreover, their main interest was to seek justice, to correct oppression, to give justice to the weak, to protect them, and to plead their causes.41 From the second half of the eighth/fourteenth century, with the beginning of the changes in the trade balance between Europe and the Mamluk sultanate, the sultans developed secular juridical structures for their relations with the European traders, who obtained from the sultan the provision to have their cases and issues not come under the religious jurisdiction. The Mamluk sultan’s judicial function was of great significance and became so institutionalized and so closely associated with the prerogatives of the ruler, that it resulted in the creation of what was in effect a royal court of justice with a known and regular procedure: it was the justice court for unjust or oppressive acts (maẓālim). The sultan presided over this court and applied justice to grant the Europeans their rights, to protect them, and to attend to their needs. It was a form of international law based on a combination of the sharīʿa provisions regarding relations with non-Muslim territories and the treaties concluded with European rulers, treaties that governed the relations between the Mamluk authorities and the European traders settled in the ports and the cities of Egypt and Syria.42 Among the titles that depicted the sultans as good rulers and judges, two showed them as defenders of Islam and Islamic law: “the sword of the world and the law” and “the sword of the world and the religion.” These two titles were adopted by ten of the seventeen Circassian sultans. The sword was the symbol of power and justice but it could be interpreted as the symbol of temporal and spiritual power as well. We cannot exclude the idea that these titles were the result of the influence of Christian thought, with the appearance of the “two swords” doctrine enunciated by Pope Gelasius I (492–6) in his famous letter to the emperor

41 42

Thomas, Diplomatarium ii, 306, 328, 373; Amari, I diplomi arabi 165–6; Wansbrough, Venice and Florence 497; Korkut, Arapski dokumenti 23. Nielsen, Secular justice 112–3; Holt, The position 247.

698

moukarzel

Anastasius I in 494 that propounded a clear institutional distinction between the civil and ecclesiastical powers which are “both from God and have distinct purposes.”43 The sultans used titles such as “Alexander of the time,” “liege-lord of kings and sultans,” or shāhānshāh to express their power and their superiority over all sultans and kings.44 The title “Alexander of the time” was first used by Sultan Baybars, then it was adopted by other sultans until the end of the Mamluk era. It indicated that the Mamluk sultan was the only legitimate ruler of his time and the most powerful ruler in all centuries. The title shāhānshāh was a Persian title used for kings, adopted first by the Buyid emirs, then by the Abbasid caliphs, then it spread among the rulers of the Muslim world. This title appeared only once in the treaty concluded between Sultan Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī and Ragusa in 920/1515. It seemed that it had a limited use among the Mamluk sultans, and according to al-Qalqashandī, the pious scribes of the sultans’ chancery deleted it from the series of the sultans’ titles based on a ḥadīth of the Prophet Muḥammad saying that “God considers it [the shāhānshāh] the most servile noun.”45 One of the titles widely used by the sultans was “the servant of the two noble sanctuaries” or “the servant of the two holy places,” Mecca and Medina (khādim al-ḥaramayn al-sharīfayn). This title was used by Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn then was adopted by the Mamluk sultans. On one hand, this title reflected the deterioration of the religious authority of the Abbasid caliphate and on the other hand, it affirmed the emergence of the power and influence of the ruling dynasty.46 In addition, the sultan used the title “lord of the two qiblas” and “conductor to the ways of the two qiblas” (i.e., Mecca and Jerusalem) to emphasize the expansion of his sovereignty over the Muslim world as the supreme representative of Islam, the defender of the Muslim faith, and the preserver of the holy places. The Circassian sultans used the title “companion of the commander of the faithful,” which was first adopted by Sultan Baybars (r. 658–76/1260–77), to present themselves as rulers of the Muslim community paying allegiance to the Abbasid caliph. This shows that the caliph, though weak, was still recognized as the head of the Muslim community and the official administrator of the holy law. But some of the sultans also used the title “shadow of God on earth” to show that they were charged from the caliph to expand their authority over all Muslims, and to emphasize the closeness between the sultans and the religious sphere rep-

43 44 45 46

Van Drunan, Natural law 33. Thomas, Diplomatarium ii, 306, 373; Korkut, Arapski dokumenti 23. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā vi, 16. Al-Bāshā, al-Alqāb 268.

the european embassies to the court of the mamluk sultans

699

resented by the four chief judges.47 The power of the sultan was seen by some jurists as the effect of divine providence.48 Some titles were related to dire or important events that had marked Islamic history, these include “the victorious king,” “the conqueror,” “the conqueror of his enemies,” “the persecutor of the tyrants, the traitorous, and those who do not have any faith,” “the sword-bearer,” “the helper of invaders,” “the supply of the fighters of the holy war,” “leader of the armies of unitarians,” “atabeg49 of the armies,” “the fighter (who struggles in the path of God),” “the holder of the frontline fortress (coastal) towns,” “the [one] garrisoned in a small fortification built along a frontier,” “annihilator of the tyrants, the unjust, and the infidels.” Furthermore, similar events contributed to the creation of similar titles: the crusades and the Mongol invasion were the basic reason for the appearance of titles depicting war and the courage of the sultan and his duty to protect the Muslims. But even when these threats were over, the sultans continued to adopt them, as they considered themselves the only defenders of Muslims. The number of these titles increased progressively as circumstances changed and new threats appeared, these threats were caused by some of the European powers (the Cypriots, the Catalans) during the eighth/fourteenth and the ninth/fifteenth centuries, and by the Ottomans, the Safavids, and the Portuguese at the end of the ninth/fifteenth century and the beginning of the tenth/sixteenth century. After presenting themselves, the sultans addressed European sovereigns using terms and titles that expressed their recognition of the sovereigns’ nobility and magnificence, their power and courage, and religious prestige. It was a protocol adopted by the chancery of the sultans from the seventh/thirteenth century till the end of the Mamluk reign, based on the use of a clear series of titles that varied in number and significance. In the treaty concluded in 691/1292 between Sultan al-Ashraf Khalīl and James II, king of Aragon, the titles of the Aragonese monarch were “the august king, the venerable, the valorous noble, the valiant, the courageous lion, the magnificent, and the respectable.”50 Some changes in the style and modifications in the set of the titles happened later, at the beginning of the eighth/fourteenth century: in 703/1304, 705/1306, and 714/1314, God was invoked to favor King James II and this was added at the beginning, followed by a new series of titles: 47 48 49 50

For information about the Abbasid caliphate of Cairo, see Holt, Some observations. Garcin, Le Sultan 269. Atābeg is a Turkish title which means the “father of the amir.” It is the title of the highest ranking amir and commander of the army. Alarcón y Santón and García de Linares, Los Documentos árabes 335.

700

moukarzel

May God Most High prolong the existence of the august King, the venerable, the valorous noble, the valiant, the roaring lion, the learned in his community, the just in his kingdom, the might of the Christian nation, the assistance of Christianity, treasure of Christianity, pillar of Christianity, friend of kings and sultans, the pride of the community of followers of Jesus, the support of the sons of baptism, the admiral and the prince of the standard of the Church of Rome.51 The mention of the titles was ended by expressions reflecting friendship, love, and sincerity from the sultan to the addressee.52 The same style continued in 1322 and 1327: May God prolong the existence of the august king, the venerable, the respectable, the honourable, the magnificent, the valiant, the valorous noble, the learned in his community, the just in his kingdom, the might of the Christian nation, pride of the community of followers of Jesus, the greatest of the Christian kings, treasure of the Christian religion. And, May God prolong the existence of the august king, the venerable, the respectable, the honourable, the magnificent, the valiant, the valorous noble, the learned in his community, the just in his kingdom, pride of the community of the Cross, pillar of the Christian nation, the great one of the Christian religion, friend of kings and sultans.53 In 1330, new titles were added to the address of the King Alphonso IV: … supporter of Christianity, pride of the nation of the followers of Jesus, treasure of the Christian community, defender of the borders, king of the coasts and seas, pillar of the Christians, supporter of the Pope of Rome, refuge of the knights, ornament of the thrones and the crowns, friend of the kings and the sultans.54

51 52 53 54

Atiya, Egypt and Aragon 36; Alarcón y Santón and García de Linares, Los Documentos árabes 350, 355. Atiya, Egypt and Aragon 37. Atiya, Egypt and Aragon 47–8, 57–8. Alarcón y Santón and García de Linares, Los Documentos árabes 370.

the european embassies to the court of the mamluk sultans

701

It is important to mention that the names Alfuns, Alfunsh or Anfūsh were sometimes used by the scribes of the sultan chancery as a title instead of a proper name: Ibn Nāẓir al-Jaysh said that Alfunsh is the name of the king of Barcelona and his title is “Anfūsh Don ruler.”55 In addition, al-Qalqashandī stated that the title used to address the kings of Aragon was al-rīd araghūn56 a corruption of “rey de Aragón.” The titles used to address the Aragonese kings were adopted in writing for other European sovereigns: the doges of Venice in 1344, 1415, 1473, the ruler of Florence in 1422, the king of France in 1447, and the ruler of Ragusa in 1515.57 There was no distinction among them, all were considered the head of Christianity, noble, venerable and valiant, courageous as the lion, and God’s favor was invoked on them all, they were all considered “friends of the kings and the sultans.” The only difference appeared when mentioning specific titles for the Aragonese kings: they were the only ones designated as the defenders and protectors of the Pope and the Church of Rome.58 In addition, the dominion of the sovereigns, their territories and possessions, were added to their names and titles: the Aragonese kings were referred to as the king of Aragon, the king of Castile, Toledo, Seville, Cordoba, and Jaén or as the king of Aragon, Valencia,

55

56 57 58

Wa-huwa Alfunsh wa-yuqāl innahu yulaqqab Anfūsh dūn ḥākim (sic for Jākam, i.e. James). Ibn Nāẓir al-Jaysh, Tathqīf al-taʿrīf 29. Also, in the treaty concluded in 1422 the governor of Florence was designated by al-kumūn (the Commune): the scribes of the Mamluk chancery were confused between the Commune of Florence and the ruler so they used the Commune as a proper name: ṣadarat hādhihi l-mukātaba ilā ḥaḍrat al-kumūn al-jalīl al-kabīr … Amari, I diplomi arabi 166. But in the treaties concluded later with Florence this confusion no longer exists and the governor of Florence was addressed by his correct title: … ḥākim al-Ifrantiyyīn or … ṣāḥib al-Ifrantiyyīn. Amari, I diplomi arabi 183, 225. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā vi, 84. Thomas, Diplomatarium i, 290 and ii, 306, 329, 373; Wansbrough, A Mamluk letter 204; Amari, I diplomi arabi 166; Korkut, Arapski dokumenti 23; d’Escouchy, Chronique i, 121–4. Ibn Nāẓir al-Jaysh, copying the judge Nāṣir al-Dīn Ibn al-Nashāʾī, stated that among the titles used to address the doge of Venice Francesco Dandolo (1328–39) the title “treasure of the Pope of Rome” (dhakhr Bābā Rūmā) appeared. Ibn Nāẓir al-Jaysh, Tathqīf al-taʿrīf 36. Al-Qalqashandī copied the title “consolidator of the Pope of Rome” (muʿizz Bābā Rūmā). Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā viii, 47. There is doubt about this title; there was probably some confusion while writing the titles used for the king of Aragon and the Venetian doge. This title did not appear in any of the treaties and correspondence between the Mamluk sultans and the doges of Venice. Furthermore, the Doge Francesco Dandolo was nicknamed cane (the dog) after an incident in 1323 (when he was the Venetian ambassador to the pope) in which he presented himself to Pope Clement V in Avignon wearing a chain around his neck, in an attempt to persuade the pope to revoke the excommunication of Venice. So he could not be the ruler who supported the pope and the Church of Rome and enjoyed a high and distinguished position in Rome.

702

moukarzel

Barcelona, Sardinia, Corsica; the Venetian doges were referred to as the doge of Venice, Dalmatia, and Croatia, the lord of the four parts and half of the whole empire of Romania59 or as the doge of Venice, Dalmatia, Croatia, and Romania.60 So, despite the reaction of the people and the Muslim jurists against the Europeans, who were considered infidels (kuffār) and enemies of Islam, and even though the European sovereigns were designated in the books of the chancery as kings of the infidels (mulūk al-kuffār), the sultans adopted prestigious titles and formulas to address the European sovereigns and always presented them as honorable and noble rulers, heads of a respectable and venerable religion: the sultans were interested in the good progress of business and the growth of trade with Europe because commercial exchanges in the Mediterranean Sea were dependent on good relations between the sultans and the Europeans. The original texts issued by the chancery of the sultans were written in Arabic, then translated by the consuls and their interpreters, who provided a copy for the European envoys. Until the middle of the eighth/fourteenth century the texts were translated into Latin; later they were translated into various European vernacular languages. A comparison between the translation and the original documents provides interesting evidence of the translation practices at the time and reveals numerous errors or imprecise translations. The translations were literal, a method that has drawbacks, but which may have been used because the translators did not know Arabic well; the majority were European converts to Islam.61 In addition, because they had not mastered Latin or Ital-

59 60

61

These titles were adopted by the Venetian doges between 1206 and 1358. Lazzarini, I titoli 296–8. Thomas, Diplomatarium i, 290 and ii, 306, 329. These titles were adopted by the Venetian doges from 1206. Lazzarini, I titoli 296. Concerning the doge of Venice, a version used to enumerate his dominions and his possessions was quoted in the books of the Mamluk chancery, but did not appear in any of the extant treaties and correspondences between the sultans and the Venetian doges: “duke of the Venetians, of Durazzo, of Romania and Constantinople” (dūk al-Banādiqa wa-Diyārqa wa-l-Rūsā wa-l-Iṣṭanbuliyya). Diyārqa derives from Dyrrachium, the Latin name of Durazzo, Rūsā is probably a distorted Arabic form of Romania and Iṣṭanbuliyya is the Greek name of Constantinople. See Amari, De’ titoli 11. The interpreter of the sultan in 1412 was a Genoese called Johannes Saiben, who converted to Islam and was known as Sunqur. Apellániz, Banquiers 297. The name of this person appeared in a text translated during the reign of Sultan Barsbāy: in the treaty concluded with Venice in 1422, the name of the translators was indicated at the end of the text, the first one is Sain (Shāhīn in Arabic), the great interpreter of the sultan and the scribe Zanon Saimben, whose name is a deformation of Johannes Saiben. “Translactada in latin

the european embassies to the court of the mamluk sultans

703

ian, the texts contain a great number of spelling and grammatical mistakes. The translations are inconsistent, sometimes certain phrases or expressions were deleted, or corrupted, causing a change in meaning. Interestingly, they used Latin or Italian forms of Arabic words, in order to suit the dialects and facilitate pronunciation. In general, the translations were of mediocre quality and also influenced by the political and commercial terms and expressions that were widespread in the Levant and frequently used in Mediterranean trade. The translation of the treaties and the correspondence between the sultans and the Venetian doges formed an example and revealed the influence of the Arabic language on European diplomacy, particularly Italian, and its large use in the exchanges across the Mediterranean Sea. Many of the Arabic words and expressions were used in an Italian form by adding the letter “o” to the masculine words, as for example the Arabic words ṣādir, wārid, ḥājib, nāʾib, tarjumān became sadro, wardo, naibo/naybo, azebo, turchimano. In the plural, they added to these words the letter i for example azebo/azebi, turchimano/turchimani. For the Arabic feminine words, they added the letter a and in the plural the letter e: sakība becomes schiba/schibe, etc. Some words were used without any changes in pronunciation, such as cadhy/qāḍī, mochari/mukārī, beredi/barīdī, zemechia/jāmikiyya, and sometimes they corrupted the words: dirham muʾayyadī becomes diremo maidin, cecham/sikka, sansar–sinsar/simsār, lochela/wikāla, osora–ossiere/ʿushr, doana del gaban/dīwān al-qabbān. In addition, they composed nouns by mixing the Arabic with the Italian, munāẓir al-rubbān becomes miniser nochier and malik al-umarāʾ becomes milech lo armiraio. The most important changes were the transformation of several Arabic verbs into their dialect: the verbs baṭula/batallar, gharbala/garbellar, zaghala/xagalar, which occurred in several conjugations; from these they derived nouns and adjectives: batelado/bathelado or bateladi/batheladi, xagalado, gharbelatori, garbalarà. These examples show that there is an obvious difference between the Arabic words and the expressions customarily used by the Venetians and the original meaning of these words. This difference may be the result of two factors: first, some Arabic letters do not exist in the Venetian dialect, so these were substituted by letters that suited the accent and the pronunciation of the Venetians: the Arabic letter khāʾ was replaced by the letters c and ch pronounced as k; the letters ʿayn and ḥāʾ were replaced by a and h; dāl and ẓāʾ by d’; shīn by s; and the letter wāw by u or v. Second, most of the words used by the Venetians were pro-

per trucimanno Sain, grando trucimanno del soldan, e Zanon Saimben, scriptor de la fe sarainescha …” Thomas, Diplomatarium ii, 327.

704

moukarzel

nounced, spelled, and written according to how they were spoken, so the words were distorted and differ from their origins. Even though most of the translated Arabic words were distorted, some were not translated literally: for example al-khawārij was translated by patarini.62 The translator chose a name closely related to Italian religious history, probably because he did not know how to explain and translate the name of al-khawārij, so to facilitate its understanding in its place he used the name of an Italian reformist religious movement which, like al-khawārij, had taken a political and religious position against the majority of the community, a position that further set them apart and caused them to be persecuted as heretics. We may wonder about the use of Arabic words in the translation, rather than the adoption of the corresponding words in Latin or Italian which have the same meanings. It is possible that the use of these forms of words was related, first, to the traditional literal translation adopted in the chancery; this literal translation was intended to preserve the same model and style of the Arabic text, and second, it was done to avoid any misunderstandings or mistakes that might corrupt the exact meaning of the sentence or phrase. For example, when talking about problems and disagreements between Venetian traders and indigenous people the translator kept the Arabic word gharīm by giving it the Italian form garimo, but added that it means adversary.63 Also, the Arabic words ghishsh and maghshūsh which mean “adulterate” were translated using the Arabic synonym zaghala, in an Italian form xagalado because it was commonly used in trade and preserved the same meaning of the desired word.64 The translators adopted Arabic commercial expressions and they translated them literally: qaṭʿ al-siʿr/romper pretio and qaṭʿ al-ṣawt/romper la voxe. Sometimes we cannot find a clear explanation for the use of Arabic words in translation: for example, among the titles of Sultan Shaʿbān in 767/1366, which are all written in Italian, we see the word aclimi (iqlīm) which means an administrative division within a region.65 This word aclimi did not appear in any other translation of the sultans’ titles. Perhaps, when the translator did not know or forgot the meaning of a word he simply gave it an Italian form.

62

63 64 65

Patarini is the name of those who were involved in the pataria, an eleventh-century religious movement in the archdiocese of Milan, they aimed at reforming the clergy and ecclesiastic government in the province and were supportive of papal sanctions against simony and clerical marriage. For more information, see Cowdrey, The papacy. “… et non comparerà el so garimo, zoè lo so aduersario …” Thomas, Diplomatarium ii, 312, 324. Wansbrough, A Mamluk letter 206–7, 208–9. “… reposador de li regnami e de li aclimi e de li confini …” Thomas, Diplomatarium ii, 113.

the european embassies to the court of the mamluk sultans

705

In translating the dates, they preserved the Arabic forms of the months, which were written according to the Muslim calendar, but they altered them to suit their dialect: Jumādā l-Awwal/Zamedelauel–Zemedeleuel–Zemedelave, Jumādā l-Ākhir/Zemethlacher, Rajab/Razebo, and Rabīʿ al-Awwal/Rabiel. The Hijri date was followed by the corresponding Christian date.66 In the seventh/thirteenth and the beginning of the eighth/fourteenth century the translation of the Arabic months was frequently incorrect and revealed that the early translators were not accustomed to the date conversion from the Hijri to the Christian calendar. In the treaty of 652/1254, concluded between Venice and Sultan Aybak (r. 648–55/1250–7), the terms adopted indicate that the dates were neither clear nor correct: the Arabic month of Ramaḍān was designated by the abbreviation Gsuc which is probably Genio sacrum,67 which does not match the corresponding Christian month.68 Furthermore, in 701/1302, instead of copying the Arabic form of the month, the translator gave it a different name, thereby changing the meaning: the month of Dhū l-Ḥijja was translated as Pasque arietis (“Easter ram”) because the festival of the sacrifice (ʿĪd al-Aḍḥā), which is celebrated by Muslims sacrificing animals and begins on the tenth day and ends on the thirteenth of this month; the translator interpreted this according to a Christian understanding of the meaning of this month.69 Later, from the middle of the eighth/fourteenth century the Arabic months were translated literally with their corresponding conversions but these were not always exact: for example in 845/1442, the dates in two copies of the treaty signed between Sultan Jaqmaq and the Venetians were not accurate: 27 Jumādā I was converted to 1 and 2 October 1442 while the exact date is 27 Jumādā I 846/3 October 1442.70 Also, in 1449, the date of the treaty signed between Sultan Jaqmaq and the Venetians was 26 Rabīʿ I 853/21 March 1449, while in fact this Hijri date corresponds to 19 May 1449, which is 26 Muḥarram 853.71 The translations of the names and the titles of the sultans or the amirs and the high officers mentioned in the correspondence were written in a

66 67 68 69 70

71

Thomas, Diplomatarium ii, 315, 327, 361, 374. Genio sacrum can be translated “the sacred frustration of any pleasure.” See Gaffiot, Le grand dictionnaire 708. Tafel and Thomas, Urkunden iii, 489. Thomas, Diplomatarium i, 9. “Data nel mellesimo rabescho a dì 27, de la luna chiamada zemedelaue, anni 846, che corre nel nostro millesimo latin a di primo octobrio 1442.” Thomas, Diplomatarium ii, 361; “Data nel mellesimo Rabescho a dì 27 de la luna chiamada zemedelave anni 846 che nel nostro millesimo latin a dì 2 octobrio 1442.” Wansbrough, Venice and Florence 497. “Data ne la cità nostra del Cayro a XXVI del mese de Rabiel, primo del ano VIIIc LIII secondo latin XXI mazo 1449.” Thomas, Diplomatarium ii, 374.

706

moukarzel

somewhat distorted fashion (naibo, diodare, azebo, luelli, nadro …), some of them kept their forms (cadi, cadhy, cadi Anafi …). Sometimes it was difficult to know the identity of the person quoted, for example Salai (al-Ṣāliḥī), Laseraf (al-Ashraf ), Melechemessor (al-Malik al-Manṣūr), Aseraph Siaba (alAshraf Shaʿbān), Nassier Maemet (al-Nāṣir Muḥammad), Daer Baricoth (alẒāhir Barqūq), etc. Sometimes there was confusion between the titles and the names, in which case titles were written as if they were names, for example, Mirus Sabadanus (al-amīr ṣāḥib al-dīwān), Scheif duniaiwadin (Sayf al-Dunyā wa-l-Dīn), Syriph re Milech or re dil Syriph (al-Malik al-Ashraf ).72 The writing of the names and the titles in Latin or Italian varied from one text to the next and were more or less corrupted and distorted, perhaps from mistakes made by the translator who wrote the text or the copyist, for example, al-Malik al-Manṣūr Qalāwūn was written in several forms as Melechemessor, Elmelich Almansor Chalaun, Mansor Chalaon, Monsor Chalaon, and Shams al-Dīn ibn al-Muḥtasib was written as Semsedi Ebene Elmehetessep, Semsedi Ebene Ilmehetessep, Siemphesin ebene matesep.73 Furthermore, the translation from Arabic into Italian dialects led to some mistakes which must have changed the signification of the words. By comparing the different versions of the texts, we note that the same sentence structures and phrases were adopted even though the written forms of the names, the titles, the places, and the words from Arabic were wrong and this increased the distortion of the words and changed their pronunciation. For example, in the treaty of 652/1254, a clause appeared with the following terms, cuffum and arsum, which are probably corruptions of the Arabic words al-qūf (a small boat) and al-ʿarṣa (a place without construction), which designate types of taxes collected from the Venetian traders on the small boats used to unload their merchandise from ships and on the place where they were transported.74 The same terms appeared again in the treaty signed in 701/1302 with a new added term: cuffum, arssum, zilia ( jizya); in 744/1344 and 755/1355 they were written in different forms as celia, cuofi, arscha, and coba, enofi, arscha.75 These changes give us the impression that the translators wrote the words according to their pronunciation in Arabic, the copyists copied them without knowing their meanings, and changed letters so words appeared different from their origins. We must take into consideration that the content and the clauses in the treaties were similar and it could take many years to intro72 73 74 75

Tafel and Thomas, Urkunden iii, 488; Thomas, Diplomatarium i, 290 and ii, 168. Thomas, Diplomatarium i, 7 and ii, 314–5, 326–7, 357; Wansbrough, Venice and Florence 492. Tafel and Thomas, Urkunden iii, 484. Thomas, Diplomatarium i, 6, 290 and ii, 21.

the european embassies to the court of the mamluk sultans

707

duce new provisions, so we wonder if the translations were made by copying the earlier translated texts of treaties, without benefit of a deep knowledge of the meaning and the form of the Arabic words.76 In the ninth/fifteenth century the translations improved: in 825/1422, the translated text was approved by the Venetian ambassador Lorenzo Capello, who was an expert in Arabic.77 Finally, the technical vocabulary used in the documents that were issued from the Mamluk chancery and written in Arabic or translated into Latin and Italian reveal that there were cultural influences from both shores of the Mediterranean and a mutual dependence resulted from the expansion of commercial activities and the development of trade between Europe and the Mamluk sultanate.

3

Conclusion

Diplomatic relations between the Mamluks and the Europeans followed the economic stakes that arose from the increasing trade conducted by the rulers on the two shores of the Mediterranean Sea. The sending of embassies to Cairo and the presentation of gifts to the sultan took place within the framework of material investments, and were aimed at opening the Levantine markets to European merchants and developing Mediterranean commercial networks. It was in the context of profits, interests, and the occupation of important posts on the commercial map that negotiations took place, and all the demonstrations derived from this, such as the protocol of the ceremonies, the traditions and the customs by which the sultans presented themselves and addressed the European sovereigns, the diplomatic language that was adopted and the content of the texts of the treaties, which could not be understood outside a systematic collection of regulations for the good functioning of the trade networks that linked Europe to the Mamluk sultanate.

76

77

These two terms were copied from the treaties concluded between the Ayyubid sultans and the Venetians in 1208 (Cuffo et Arso) and 1238 (Curfo et Arso). Tafel and Thomas, Urkunden ii, 186, 339. “… presente a tutte cose I signori ambassatori, e specialmente miser Lorenzo Capello predicto, de la lingua Arabica peritissimo et molto experto …” Thomas, Diplomatarium ii, 327.

708

moukarzel

Bibliography Primary Sources (Handwritten) ADBR, Fonds Malauzat, 381 E-57f20.

Primary Sources (Printed) Catellaci, D., Diario di Felice Brancacci, ambasciatore con Carlo Federighi al Cairo per il comune di Firenze (1422), in ASI 8 (1881), 157–88, 326–34. Corti, G., Relazione di un viaggio al soldano d’Egitto e in Terra Santa, in ASI 116 (1958), 247–66. d’Escouchy, Chronique de Mathieu d’Escouchy, ed. G. De Fresne De Beaucourt, 3 vols, Paris 1863. Ibn Ḥijja, Das Rauschgetränk der Stilkunst oder Qahwat al-inšāʾ von Taqīyuddīn Abū Bakr. b. ʿAlī Ibn Ḥiǧǧa al-Ḥamawī al-Azrārī, ed. R. Veselý, Beirut and Berlin 2005. Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr fī waqāʾiʿ al-duhūr, ed. M. Muṣṭafā, 6 vols., Cairo 1960–75. Ibn Nāẓir al-Jaysh, Tathqīf al-taʿrīf bi-l-muṣṭalaḥ al-sharīf, ed. R. Veselý, Cairo 1987. Paoli, Sebastiano, Codice diplomatico del sacro militare ordine gerosolimitano oggi di Malta, raccolto da vari documenti di quell’archivio, per servire alla storia dello stesso ordine in Soria e illustrato con una serie cronologica de’ gran maestri, che lo governarono in quei tempi, con alcune notizie storiche, genealogiche, geografiche, ed altre osservazioni, Lucca 1733. al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā fī ṣināʿat al-inshāʾ, ed. M.ʿA. al-R. Ibrāhīm, 14 vols., Cairo 1913–9, 21963. Trevisan, Le Voyage d’outremer de Jean Thenaud. Gardien du couvent des Cordeliers d’Angoulême, suivi de la relation de l’ambassade de Domenico Trévisan auprès du soudan d’Égypte, 1512, ed. Ch. Schefer, Paris 1884. van Ghistele, Voyage en Égypte de Joos van Ghistele: 1482–1483, trans. R. Bauwens-Préaux, Cairo 1976.

Secondary Sources Alarcón y Santón, M.A. and R.Y.T.P. García de Linares, Los Documentos árabes diplomáticos del Archivo de la Corona de Aragón, Madrid 1940. Amari, M., De’ titoli che usava la cancelleria de’ sultani di Egitto nel XIV secolo scriveno a’ reggitori di alcuni stati italiani, in Atti della Reale Accademia dei Lincei, Memorie della classe di scienze morali, storiche e filologiche 12 (1886), 3–29. Amari, M., I diplomi arabi del R. Archivio fiorentino, Florence 1863. Amitai-Preiss, R., An exchange of letters in Arabic between Abaγa Ilkhan and Sultan Baybars (A.H.667 / A.D.1268–9), in CAJ 38 (1994), 11–33; reprinted in Amitai, The Mongols in the Islamic lands: Studies in the history of the Ilkhanate, Aldershot 2007.

the european embassies to the court of the mamluk sultans

709

Apellániz, F., Banquiers, diplomates et pouvoir sultanien. Une affaire d’épices sous les Mamelouks circassiens, in AI 38 (2004), 285–304. Ashtor, E., Levant trade in the later middle ages, Princeton 1983. Atiya, A.S., Egypt and Aragon: Embassies and diplomatic correspondence between 1300 and 1330A.D., Leipzig 1938. al-Bāshā, Ḥasan, al-Alqāb al-islāmiyya fī l-tārīkh wa-l-wathāʾiq wa-l-āthār, Cairo 1989. Coulon, D., Barcelone et le grand commerce d’Orient au Moyen Âge. Un siècle de relations avec l’Égypte et la Syrie-Palestine (ca. 1330–ca. 1430), Madrid and Barcelona 2004. Coulon, D., Négocier avec les sultans de la Méditerranée orientale à la fin du Moyen Âge. Un domaine privilégié pour les hommes d’affaires?, in M.T. Ferrer Mallol et al. (eds.), Negociar en la Edad Media. Négocier au Moyen Âge. Actes du colloque tenu à Barcelone du 14 au 16 octobre 2004, Barcelona 2005, 503–26. Cowdrey, H.E.J., The papacy, the Patarenes and the church of Milan, in Transactions of Royal Historical Society 18 (1968), 25–43. Gaffiot, F., Le grand dictionnaire Latin-Français, Paris 2000. Garcin, J.-Cl., Le sultan et pharaon (le politique et le religieux dans l’Égypte mamlouke), in Hommages à François Daumas, 2 vols., Montpellier 1986, i, 261–72. Gaudefroy-Demombynes, M., La Syrie à l’époque des Mamelouks d’après les auteurs arabes, Paris 1923. Ghinzoni, P., Un ambasciatore del Soldano d’Egitto alla corte milanese del 1476, in Archivio Storico Lombardo 2 (1875), 155–78. Heyd, W., Histoire du commerce du Levant au Moyen Âge, trans. F. Reynaud, 2 vols., Amsterdam 1959. Holt, P.M., Some observations on the ʿAbbāsid caliphate of Cairo, in BSOAS 47 (1984), 501–07. Holt, P.M., The position and power of the Mamluk sultan, in BSOAS 38 (1975), 237–49. Howard, D., Venise et les Mamlûks, in Venise et l’Orient 828–1797, Paris 2006, 72–88. Jorga, N., Notes et extraits pour servir à l’histoire des Croisades au XVe siècle. Documents politiques réédités avec l’autorisation des Presses universitaires de France, in Revue de l’Orient Latin 4 (1896), 226–320, 503–622; 5 (1897), 108–212, 311–88. Korkut, B., Arapski dokumenti u državnom arhivu u Dubrovniku. Knjiga I, sveska 3: Osnivanje Dubrovačkog Konsulata u Aleksandriji, Sarajevo 1969. Lazzarini, V., I titoli dei dogi di Venezia, in Nuovo Archivio Veneto (1903), 271–313. Lot, H., Essai d’intervention de Charles le Bel en faveur des chrétiens d’Orient tenté avec le concours du pape Jean XXII, in Bibliothèque de l’École des Chartes 36 (1875), 587–600. Moukarzel, P., La Ville de Beyrouth sous la domination mamelouke (1291–1516) et son commerce avec l’Europe, Baabda 2010. Musso, G., Nuovi documenti dell’Archivio di Stato di Genova sui Genovesi e il Levante nel secondo Quattrocento, in Rassegna degli Archivi di Stato 27/2–3 (1967), 443–96.

710

moukarzel

Nielsen, J.S., Secular justice in an Islamic state: Maẓālim under the Baḥrī Mamluks, 662/1264–789/1387, Istanbul 1985. Pedani, M.P., Ambassador’s travels from the East to Venice, in Annali di Ca’ Foscari 48/3 (2009), 183–97. Pedani Fabris, M.P., Gli ultimi accordi tra i sultani mamelucchi d’Egitto e la repubblica di Venezia, in QSA 12 (1994), 49–64. Predelli, R., I libri commemoriali della Repubblica di Venezia, 3 vols., Venice 1883. Queller, D.E., Early Venetian legislation on ambassadors, Geneva 1966. Reinaud, J.T., Traités de commerce entre la république de Venise et les derniers sultans mamelouks d’Égypte, traduits de l’italien et accompagnés d’éclaircissements par M. Reinaud, in JA 4 (1829), 22–51. Richards, D.S., A late Mamluk document concerning Frankish commercial practice at Tripoli, in BSOAS 62 (1999), 21–35. Rossi, F., Ambasciata straordinaria al sultano d’Egitto (1489–1490), Venice 1988. Silvestre de Sacy, A.-I., Pièces diplomatiques tirées des archives de la république de Gênes, in Notices et extraits des manuscrits de la bibliothèque du roi et autres bibliothèques, 11 (1827), 1–122. Tafel, G.L.Fr., and G.M. Thomas, Urkunden zur älteren Handels- und Staatsgeschichte der Republik Venedig mit besonderer Beziehung auf Byzanz und die Levante. Vom neunten bis zum Ausgang des fünfzehnten Jahrhundert. III. Theil (1256–1299), Wien 1857. Thomas, G.M., Diplomatarium Veneto-Levantinum sive acta et diplomata res venetas graecas atque Levantis illustrantia, 2 vols., Venice 1880–99, repr. New York 1966. Trenchs Odena, J., De Alexandrinis. El comercio prohibido con los musulmanes y el papado de Aviñón durante la primera mitad del siglo XIV, in AEM 10 (1980), 237– 320. Tripodi, Cl., Viaggi di ambasciatori tra Firenze e il Cairo nel XV secolo, in Mélanges de l’École française de Rome, Moyen Âge 122/2 (2010), 411–40. van Drunan, D., Natural law and the two kingdoms: A study in the development of reformed social thought, Cambridge 2010. Wansbrough, J., A Mamluk ambassador to Venice in 913/1507, in BSOAS 26 (1963), 503– 30. Wansbrough, J., A Mamluk letter of 877/1473, in BSOAS 24 (1961), 200–13. Wansbrough, J., The safe-conduct in Muslim chancery practice, in BSOAS 34 (1971), 20– 35. Wansbrough, J., Venice and Florence in the Mamluk commercial privileges, in BSOAS 28 (1965), 483–523.

chapter 23

In the Name of the Minorities: Lisbon’s Muslims as Emissaries from the King of Portugal to the Sultan of Egypt Maria Filomena Lopes de Barros

In April 858/1454, the Muslims of Lisbon sent a letter to the Mamluk sultan Īnāl (r. 857–65/1453–61), requesting his intercession on behalf of the Christians of Jerusalem.1 Allegedly, they had been forced to do this by Afonso V (r. 1438–81), king of Portugal, on pain of religious persecution. They argued that the restrictive measures endured by the Christian minority in Jerusalem should end. This discourse, which naturally assumes a rhetorical and demagogic tone, takes the issue into the realm of psychology, which they used in the hope of influencing the response to their appeal. Aside from its immediate and explicit content, however, this letter expresses above all a political agenda in which minorities on both sides of the Mediterranean play a significant part. The two Muslims from Lisbon, Abū l-ʿAbbās Aḥmad b. Muḥammad al-Ruʿaynī and Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad b. Aḥmad al-Wandājī, who were charged with carrying the letter and presenting it to the sultan, exemplify the mediators throughout the Middle Ages who circulated between the western and eastern boundaries of the Mediterranean. This document exhibits several unprecedented features. The most meaningful may be the fact that it is the only document reflecting a relationship between the Portuguese kingdom and the Mamluk sultanate of Cairo. In effect, and unlike the case of the Crowns of Aragon and Castile,2 there are no other records of diplomatic contact between the two powers. Thus, to date, the Muslim minority in the Portuguese kingdom, through its Lisbon commune, is the only player involved in a probable dialogue between Lisbon and Cairo, in the name of Portugal’s king.

1 CIDEHUS. In the scope of the project UID/HIS/00057/2013. 2 Arié, Les Relations 87.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2019 | doi:10.1163/9789004384637_024

712 1

lopes de barros

The Letter: Description

A copy of the letter is preserved, among other documents, in MS Ar. 4440 in the National Library of France (BnF, Paris). Probably the work of a clerk to the Mamluk chancery, active until the beginning of the rule of Sultan Qāytbāy (r. 872–901/1468–96), the manuscript is divided into four parts. The second part (39a–86b) contains partial or complete copies of 62 documents which, for the most part, can be classified as letters (mukātabāt), either received or issued by that chancery.3 In this section, occupying fols. 58b–60a, we find this document, partially edited and interpreted by George S. Colin.4 This collection, assembled and transcribed by the anonymous Mamluk scribe, displays a singular feature: the letter by the Muslims of Lisbon is the only one not issued by a Muslim sovereign, and furthermore it differs from the diplomatic content of the remaining letters.5 The motive for this seemingly extemporaneous option probably lies in the formal aspect of the document. The text proper is preceded by a summary which describes it as a copy of the letter sent to Sultan Īnāl by the Muslims who lived in the “country” of Lisbon (bi-bilād Lishbūna).6 Its transcription starts after a reference to the basmala. The letter’s relatively long first part is dedicated to saluting the sultan, making use of formulas of glorification and exaltation of his person and function.7 Next comes the identification of the letter’s authors, his “slaves”ghurabāʾ (ʿabīdukum al-ghurabāʾ)8 who profess the religion of Muḥammad and live in the city of Lisbon and its surroundings, among nonbelievers and polytheists, a situation which they justify. After the land was conquered by Christians, the Muslims were not allowed to leave, although they were granted religious freedom. Their presence, however, helped other Muslims; they ransomed captives and assisted the poor and the persecuted. In the letter, they insist that, if they could, many of them would move to Muslim lands, even at the cost of leaving all their possessions behind. Their situation in Lisbon, however, took on a dangerous turn. The monks and priests of Jerusalem wrote to the Portuguese king (ṣāḥib bilād al-Burtughāl)9 complaining about the destruction of pilgrimage sites and the prohibition of 3 Bauden, Les Relations 5–6. 4 Colin, Contribution 201–3. I thank F. Bauden for sharing with me the document and the bibliography related to it. 5 Cf. Bauden, Les Relations 7–9 and appendix A. 6 BNF, Ms. Ar. 4440, fol. 58b. 7 He is called “the caliph of God in [his] land” (khalīfat Allāh fī arḍihi). BnF, Ms. Ar. 4440, fol. 58b. 8 Ibid., fol. 59a. 9 Ibid.

in the name of the minorities

713

rebuilding or repairing their churches, many of which had even been turned into mosques. They asked that the same treatment be extended to the Muslims of Portugal, that is, that their mosques be destroyed and that they be barred from practicing their religion. These Muslims were thus forced to write to the sultan so that a solution could be found for this problem because, as they argued, they share the same religion and were a part of the same body, and when one organ is ill then the whole body suffers. To deliver the letter they sent two men learned in the Quran (min ahl al-Qurʾān al-ʿaẓīm) and of noble descent, the faqīh Abū l-ʿAbbās Aḥmad b. Muḥammad al-Ruʿaynī and Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad b. Aḥmad al-Wandājī.10 Their petition asks the sultan to allow the Christians to rebuild their churches, though not grant them new privileges. Again they justify their mission with the arguments they used before: they stress the fact that such a mission was imposed on them, that they are Muslims despite living under Christian rule, and they mention the many captives they had freed and protected, and finally they declare their fear that their mosques may be destroyed and their religious liberties curtailed. The letter ends with an indication of the date (beg. Rabīʿ II 858/beg. April 1454).

2

Emissaries: Muslim Minority

This document raises many questions. Undoubtedly, the first one relates to its authors since, despite the references made to Portugal, they identify themselves only with the city of Lisbon, although other Muslim communities did exist—especially in the southern regions of the land.11 As they were emissaries of the king, this identification is understandable within the historical context of this minority. In fact, the privileged relationship between the king and his “Moors” (those from the Lisbon commune) was a feature of great importance that extended from the twelfth to the fifteenth centuries.12 Islamic law, comprising mainly fiscal legislation, was produced by lawmakers in that commune and then applied by the king to all the other communities; thus, the Lisbon foro became the institutional paradigm to be embraced by all the Muslims’ communes in the kingdom. This trend began in the seventh/thirteenth century, after the Chris10 11 12

Ibid. Colin interprets this as al-Wandāḥī: Colin, Contribution 203. Barros, Tempos e Espaços 137–45. From the grant of the charter (carta de foral), in March 1170, to the Edict of Expulsion, in December 1496.

714

lopes de barros

tian conquest of the Portuguese territory was completed. But from the reign of King John I (r. 1385–1433) onwards it acquired a global dimension, when royal jurisdiction was effectively imposed on the kingdom’s Muslim minority, despite protests by several of those communities who wished to defend their custombased singularities.13 Furthermore, the Lisbon commune boasted, to the end of the ninth/fifteenth century, its own prison building, a symbol of its own jurisdiction. In contrast, the other communes progressively lost their juridical autonomy, because of competing Christian systems.14 This relationship, through which Lisbon’s Muslims became the preferred interlocutors and servants of the monarch, was also projected onto diplomatic approaches to the dār al-Islām, such that the Muslim minority appears to play an essential role. In fact, possibly in 737/1337 one of its members, Master ʿAlī, was sent forth as an emissary from Afonso IV to the Merinids of Morocco, in an effort to form an alliance with the Merinids against the Castilians. Although the sultan refused, explaining that he was in a truce with Castile, our Muslim emissary received from the king a farm on which to raise his horses, mules, and asses, and also the privilege of exemption from some services.15 The documentation says nothing about the emissary’s origins, but in 799/1397 another Muslim, Mafamede (Muḥammad) de Avis, named as a servant to the king and living in Lisbon’s Muslim quarter, was charged by King John I to take two captive Muslims, both Granadines, to the sultan of Granada, “for his service.” Given the chronology of this assignment, in the middle of war with Castile, we should consider the hypothesis that his intention was similar to that of Master ʿAlī, that is, it was an attempt to reach a deal between the Portuguese crown and the Granadine sultan.16 Both the letter of the Lisbon Muslims and the act of sending the two emissaries from that community should be viewed in this light. The complaints voiced by the Jerusalem churchmen to the Portuguese king, Afonso V, might have triggered an attempt by the king to intervene in the most symbolic city for Christianity. The ideology of Catholic monarchy, embraced by the sovereigns of the Iberian Peninsula, was already projected in this royal initiative which, as in later periods, was connoted with the protection of the holy sites of Jerusalem. It is possible that, as a result of this diplomatic mission, a representative of St. Francis traveled from Jerusalem to the Portuguese kingdom. In fact, already in the next year, in 1455, the warden of the monastery of St. Francis, to whom 13 14 15 16

Ibid. 299 ff. Ibid. 283. Barros, Os Láparos 324. Ibid., 324–5.

in the name of the minorities

715

Afonso V granted a dole, was received at the court of the king.17 Likewise, his successor John II favored the same institution, just as the Catholic kings became its committed protectors.18 The text of the missive insists repeatedly on the coercive character of the mediation by the Lisbon Muslims, as well as on the threat they allegedly faced, that is, the end of their religious freedom and the destruction of their mosques. Nevertheless, nothing in the documentation of the period hints at any disturbance in the relations between the monarch and the kingdom’s Muslim minority.19 It is therefore a consciously demagogic discourse, exploring an overblown status of minority and the asymmetry of power associated with it. The very sensitivity of these emissaries’ mission—they are requesting the alteration of a decision made by the sultan of Cairo20—implies the use of carefully worded language. The Muslims are “slaves” to the sultan and, even living among “infidels,” they still practice their religion conscientiously and help fellow Muslims, especially captives, within the framework of Islam’s rules. And all references to Christians are usually accompanied by derogatory qualifiers, in contrast with the formulas of praise and exaltation used when Muslims are mentioned. Placing themselves in the context of the dār al-Islām and consequently invoking the sultan of Egypt as their natural protector, these emissaries call themselves their “ghurabāʾ slaves,” as mentioned already. The term gharīb (pl. ghurabāʾ), meaning “stranger,” or “foreign,” nevertheless in this period acquired a specific meaning as a word that described a Muslim minority under Christian rule. In an auto- or hetero-perception, apparently common to the western Mediterranean, this term is used again in a later document, dated 14 August 1486. The Arabic translation of a letter sent by King John II to the inhabitants of Azemmour concludes with a reference to its author: “This text was written by the servant of our lord, upon his orders, your sincere gharīb brother Muḥammad b. Qāsim al-Ruʿaynī, khatīḅ from your brethren ghurabāʾ [sic]—may God forgive and better their lot—who salutes you.”21

17 18 19

20

21

Aubin, Le Latin et l’ Astrolabe 228 note 28. Ibid. 228. In December 1454, the same year as this letter, King Afonso V granted a charter of privileges to the Lisbon commune. Torre do Tombo (TT), Chancelaria de D. Afonso V, Livro 10, fol. 119b. According to Colin, it is in fact the predecessor of Īnāl, al-Ẓāhir Jaqmaq (r. 842–57/1438– 53), who adopted restrictive measures on Christian and Jewish sacred spaces. Colin, Contribution 203 note 2. About these measures see Little, Communal strife. Cénival, Les Sources inédites 14 (Arabic version). In the French version, the term is translated as an adjective, “who live(s) far away” (ibid. 23).

716

lopes de barros

Another al-Ruʿaynī, thus, very likely a relative of the emissary of the 858/1454 letter, introduces himself, at the beginning of that same translation, as an interpreter and servant of the Portuguese king, a position he held at least until 909/1504. His connection with the city of Lisbon (Lishbūna) was expressed in the last of the letters he translated, dated from that city on 22 April 1504 ( fī 22 min Abrīl ʿām 1504).22 The term is no longer used in this document, his identification became simply “al-Ruʿaynī.” For a very important reason, too: the ghurabāʾ, defined as the Muslim minority, ceased to exist in Portugal as of the publication of the edict King Emmanuel I (r. 1495–1521), in December 1496. Those members of the community who remained in Portugal were forcefully converted to Catholicism, with some rare exceptions duly sanctioned by royal privilege. The word was still used in the year 909/1504, in a broader context that involved those Muslims in the kingdoms of Granada and Castile that were forced to convert, in the famous fatwā by the muftī of Oran.23 This juridical consultation, solicited by the communities involved, was addressed to the algharibosh, in the aljamiado version (Castilian written in Arabic characters) and to the ghurabāʾ, in the Arabic version.24 These Muslims’ double inscription is thus embodied in a double terminology: that of their respective kingdoms—as mouro forro in the Portuguese case—and, as gharīb, in relation to the Islamic umma. This last feature apparently pointed to a reality that was exclusive to the western Mediterranean, as already mentioned. The letter in MS Ar. 4440 of the National Library of France only uses the term once, when identifying its authors; in the remaining text it adopts the more universal term “Muslim.”

3

Lisbon-Cairo Relations: Granadine Model

Throughout the ninth/fifteenth century, royal policy seemed to ignore Mamluk power altogether. The letter from Lisbon’s Muslims is the only evidence known to date of a relationship, however indirect, between Lisbon and Cairo. The interests of King Afonso V, however, were not limited to conquests in North Africa; his interests there earned him the nickname “the African.” In effect, the monarch enthusiastically adhered to the proposal of a crusade against the Turks in order to free Constantinople; the monarch’s public vows 22 23 24

Ibid. 98 (Arabic version) and 99 (French translation). Harvey, Muslims in Spain 60–4. Cf. for this question Barros, Christians and Mudejars 142–3.

in the name of the minorities

717

were proclaimed in Lisbon, on 25 July 1456.25 However, when the movement failed to receive the intended reception among other European rulers, he redirected his military apparatus to North African conquests, starting with al-Qaṣr al-Ṣaghīr in 1458.26 In 1477, at the end of his unsuccessful stay in France (he had gone there to request the help of Louis XI in his designs on the Castilian crown), Afonso V gave up the crown of Portugal and escaped from Honfleur, with the intention of reaching Jerusalem and ending his days there in obscurity. Caught by the emissaries of the French king and later sent on to Portugal—thereby averting a serious diplomatic incident27—the king eventually died in Lisbon, in 1481. These various elements of Afonso V’s life suggest that his actions were driven by the idea of holy war and by a spirituality that projected itself onto a symbolic Jerusalem, where he desired to be forgotten and see the end of his days. In fact, in the year of his death he spent some time in the Franciscan monastery of Varatojo (outside Torres Vedras), which he had founded, and where he also apparently disclosed his intention to resign and remain.28 The relationship with the Franciscan order29 is thus of special significance in the life of this king, and this may account for the contact he kept with the Franciscan convent of Mount Sion, founded in the 1330s.30 The Portuguese monarch may not have been its only protector, but the 858/1454 letter from Lisbon’s Muslims, and in the following year the sojourn of a Franciscan monk from that monastery in the Portuguese court, both reveal his strong intention to pursue that relationship. The real scope of the Portuguese Muslims’ mission, however, is more problematic to assess. In effect, they probably would not have ventured to ask for a change in the Mamluk sultan’s policies toward the Christian minority unless they had the support of the king himself. Contacts between Portugal and Granada (which have not been systematically studied by Portuguese historiography) reveal, as mentioned before, the use of Muslims from Lisbon, a choice that was kept secret from the other peninsular crowns. And in any case, the experience of that chancery with contacts from the dār al-Islām, and in particular with the Mamluks,31 turned out to be the most functional, at a time when

25 26 27 28 29 30 31

Gomes, Afonso V 178. Ibid. 179. Ibid. 227–9. Aubin, Le Latin et l’ Astrolabe 223. Gomes, Afonso V 260–68. Goiten and Grabar, Jerusalem 240. Arié, Les Relations.

718

lopes de barros

the Portuguese chancery still seemed to lack the means, and/or the interest, to formalize relations with the Islamic world. As far as we can glimpse from available documentation, the letter translated by Muḥammad b. Qāsim al-Ruʿaynī, in 890/1486, marks the beginning of the Portuguese chancery’s output in Arabic; this output later developed and expanded into other languages, especially after the Portuguese arrived in India. Therefore, it is likely that Afonso V’s ideological interpretation of Catholicism was either complemented by more pragmatic policies, for example, using the two Muslim emissaries from Lisbon to approach the Mamluk sultan,32 or reinforced by a crusader ideal stemming from the personality of the king himself. In fact, the symbology of Jerusalem overrides that of Constantinople, conquered by the Ottomans in August 857/1453, although the monarch embraced the crusade against the Turks, preached by Callixtus III. However, that city, which embodied a whole ideological program throughout the Middle Ages, was very much alive in the king’s mind, as we have said. The purely rhetorical threats in the letter might have been used to catalyze the possible justification of a Christian intervention, similar to those used in the past, namely, acts of violence committed against Christians. Nevertheless, there is nothing on which to base this hypothesis. We do not know the outcome of this mission or, for that matter, its political and personal consequences for the two emissaries, or a possible continuation of contacts between Lisbon and Cairo. However, the crusader ideal of the conquest of Jerusalem reappeared at a later period, in the reign of Manuel I (r. 1495–1521),33 through a move made by this king in 1505. He approached the king of England, Henry VII, and his father-in-law, the Catholic king Ferdinand (r. 1479–1507), and he also meant to extend the idea to other European monarchies. But there were no results. The Portuguese king abandoned his project in 1508, due to the embarrassments he suffered in Morocco. For the Spanish king Ferdinand, the desire to enter Jerusalem, as the high point of his reign, only ended with his death in January 1516.34

32

33 34

Which is possible, considering Mamluk ceremonial, according to the text by al-Ḥasan b. ʿAbdallāh al-ʿAbbāsī, completed in 709/1309, which mentions that it was possible for the emissaries of letters to transmit secrets to the sultan, in private. Bauden, Les Relations 12. Costa, Manuel I 177–9; Thomaz, De Ceuta 166–7. Aubin, Le Latin et l’ Astrolabe 230–42.

in the name of the minorities

4

719

Christian-Muslim Relations: the Role of Minorities

Mediation carried out by, or through, minorities is a fundamental feature of the medieval Mediterranean’s social and political complexity. As Pahlitzsch says in the article he devoted to the networks of eastern Christians, they were moving between the cultures as though this were a matter of course and they could do so because of the multi-ethnic and multiconfessional character of the individual states in the Eastern Mediterranean. The close interconnection between these numerous ethnic and confessional groups created a certain unity of space regardless of political boundaries.35 Actually, multi-ethnicity and multi-confessionality were not confined to eastern states, as the Lisbon Muslims’ mission proves. The Iberian monarchies shared this same reality, although the logic of the majoritarian religion is here inverted: Muslims, as well as Jews, were in this case the lawfully included minorities, until the end of the ninth/fifteenth and the beginning of the tenth/ sixteenth centuries.36 But it was the Muslim kingdom of Granada, eventually conquered by the Catholic monarchs in 1492, which brought about the first intervention of the Mamluk sultan in the Iberian political context, although this was of an epistolary nature only. In a mirror image of the case of the letter from Lisbon, the intermediaries were Franciscans from Jerusalem. In 1489 two of these, from the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, met with King Ferdinand, who was about to attack Baza, in Granada. They brought letters from the Mamluk sultan Qāytbāy, from Pope Innocent VIII, and from King Ferdinand of Naples, all urging him to end the war in Granada. The Egyptian chronicler Ibn Iyās specifies the origin of this mission. Pressured by the Granadine sultan, and responding to his plea for help against the Christian advances and conquest of his land, Qāytbāy wrote to the clerics of the Church of the Resurrection, in Jerusalem, requesting that one of its members carry a letter to the king of Naples. In this letter, the king was asked to intercede with his Castilian counterpart to stop the attacks and evac-

35 36

Pahlitzsch, Mediators 47. In 1492, the Catholic monarchs decreed the expulsion or, as an option, the forced conversion, of Jews; in 1496, Manuel I of Portugal established the same measure both for Jews and Muslims; in Castile from 1501 to 1502, and in the 1530s, in Aragon, similar measures were imposed on the Muslims of those kingdoms.

720

lopes de barros

uate the conquered land; otherwise the sultan would carry out reprisals on the members of that church, interdicting the sanctuary to Christians or even going so far as to demolish it.37 Ferdinand gave a negative reply, obviously, so the two Franciscans approached the queen, who was in Jaén. Isabella repeated her husband’s reasons for continuing to the final conquest of the Muslim kingdom. However, she granted the Church of the Resurrection a pension of one thousand ducats, perpetually, and offered them a veil, richly embroidered by her own hand, to be placed over the Holy Sepulchre.38 As in the Lisbon letter, the Mamluk sultan’s threats were purely verbal and rhetorical, considering the friendly diplomatic relations he had with the Catholic monarchs.39 A different context permeates the second mission, at the start of the year 1504. Granada had already been conquered, and its inhabitants forced to convert; meanwhile, the Portuguese tried to eliminate Mamluk influence in the Indian Ocean.40 These are the two situations that Sultan Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī (r. 906–22/1501–16) complained of in a letter sent through Maurus Hispanus, a Franciscan who had left the Levant at the end of his three-year term as superior general of the Convent of Mount Sion in Jerusalem. His mission was twofold, in Spain and in Portugal. In the first, he protested against the forced conversion and other aggressions against the Granadines; in the second, he brought an end to the abuses suffered by Egyptian traders whom the Portuguese intended to exclude from Indian Ocean traffic. If his requirements were not met, the sultan once again threatened to destroy the Holy Sepulchre and all the other Christian sites under his sway.41 On his journey from the East, Fr. Mauro was to contact the Venetian Republic and the Pope, in order to obtain their support. In both cases, the responses were ambiguous. The Council of Ten denied the mission any diplomatic cooperation, but secretly incited the sultan to resist the Portuguese. The Roman Curia postponed its decision, awaiting effective contacts with the Iberian rulers.42 The idea behind this journey was somehow conveyed by the gift carried by Fr. Mauro: a marble slab, supposedly from Christ’s tomb, divided into pieces; these were to be offered to Cardinal Bernardino López de Carvajal, head of the Basilica of the Holy Cross in Jerusalem, in Rome; to the Catholic Queen Isabella;

37 38 39 40 41 42

Arié, Les Relations 95. Ibid. 96. Ibid. 96–7. Aubin, Le Latin et l’ Astrolabe 465. Thomaz, De Ceuta 444. Ibid. 445.

in the name of the minorities

721

to the Archbishop of Toledo, Francisco Ximénez de Cisneros; and finally to King Manuel of Portugal. Nevertheless, nothing is known of Fr. Mauro’s stay in the Iberian kingdoms. We can only speculate that he was in Portugal before 12 June 1505, on which day King Manuel replied to a papal brief by Julius II, dated 26 August 1504.43 This reply, printed in Latin in the form of a leaflet,44 so it could circulate in Europe, was imbued with clear propagandistic intent. The Portuguese king set out by taking apart the arguments of the “Sultan of Babylon.” The threat of destruction of the Holy Sepulchre, he says, is out of proportion with reality and would be justifiable only if the Portuguese armies went to Mecca and tore it the ground—which by the way he believed, with God’s mercy, would happen very soon. He then proceeded with the offenses attributed to the Catholic monarch,45 “my father,” for which he assumed shared responsibility. Indeed, he was the one who had demanded the destruction of Castile’s mosques and the conversion of Muslim children, who were to be taken away from their families, as the “blessed dowry” of his second marriage, with D. Maria. The contract was fulfilled, to the glory of God and great pleasure and advantage of the Portuguese ruler. The last part of the text is directly dedicated to the highest representatives of Europe: King Manuel regrets the infidels’ daring nerve, implicitly criticizes the Pope but explicitly addresses the Christian princes. These he accuses of negligence for, “busy with human affairs and their own interests,” they failed to remember the offenses received from the “enemies of God.”46 Preparations for the crusade, significantly, started less than two months later, thereby he assumed his ideal—clearly mirrored in this propagandistic discourse—of becoming a leader of Christendom. The Portuguese Muslim minority was not mentioned here, although in December 1496 the king had published the edict of expulsion, or alternatively of conversion to Catholicism, of the kingdom’s Jews and Muslims.47 The destruction of their mosques—a strongly evocative image often repeated since the letter of 1454—cannot claim, in effect, the same political meaning as the conquest of the peninsula’s last Muslim kingdom and the conversion of its inhabitants. This fact led Manuel

43 44

45 46 47

Ibid. 445–6. Epistola serenissimi principis Hemanuelis primi dei gratia Portugallie Regis excelentissimi ad summum Roamnum Pontificem, Lisboa: Valentim Fernandes, 1505, Biblioteca Nacional (Lisbon), Res. 75 // 2 V, fols. 5–8v. The letter is translated by the chronicler Damião de Góis: Góis, Crónica 204–5. Queen Isabella died on 26 November 1504. Góis, Crónica i, 204–5. Soyer, The persecution 246–7; Barros, Tempos e Espaços 598–603.

722

lopes de barros

to associate himself with the Catholic monarchs’ policies, claiming a fundamental role in the extinction of Islam in Granada, whereas he kept silent about the Portuguese reality, which the Mamluk sultan ignored anyway. The imposition of expelling the Jews, at the time of his first marriage to Isabella of Aragon, daughter of the Catholic monarchs, was thus compensated by Manuel in the negotiation of his second marriage—to Maria of Aragon, the sister of his first wife—ratified by the Catholic monarchs on 22 April 1500.48 In both cases the minorities were treated as contractual objects, although in his political action the Portuguese king went beyond the conditions imposed on him to marry Isabella: Muslims, in addition to Jews, were to be expelled from the kingdom. The relation between the measures of forced conversion in Granada and the impositions of the Portuguese king are not so clear. In fact, they were rather an outcome of the revolt that lasted from 1499 to 1500, which happened precisely because the pact agreed upon at surrender was not respected,49 rather than as a result of King Manuel’s political action. His claim of shared responsibility in this matter thus seems merely ideological, and is without a basis in reality. This policy of religious homogenization, which the Portuguese king pioneered, played a part in the reinterpretation of Catholic monarchy which, beginning at the close of the fifteenth century, came into full expression in the following century.50 The imperial ideals of the Iberian kingdoms embraced this new ideology, confronting each other in diverse spaces, in a rivalry which endured in spite of the matrimonial alliances between the two powers. In this sense, minorities were fundamental in materializing the discourse of “being Catholic,” a discourse which their forced conversion rendered legitimate and well-known. The context here, however, was not exclusively Iberian. A wider understanding of Mediterranean geostrategy emerges from the official discourse of the humanist Damião de Góis (d. 1574), who wrote the chronicle of Manuel in the reign of his son, John III (1521–57), and completed it in 1566. Referring to the capture of the children of those Jews who left the kingdom in the wake of the edict of expulsion, he argues that such was not the case with Muslims, because these occupied “the greater part of Asia and Africa, and a large part of Europe,” so that there could be vengeance “on the Christians who lived in the lands of other Moors.” And he concludes, “this is why they were allowed

48 49 50

Aubin, Le Latin et l’ Astrolabe 25–6. Harvey, Muslims in Spain 15–31. Cf. Harvey, When Portugal.

in the name of the minorities

723

to leave the kingdom with their children, unlike the Jews.”51 The unstable equilibrium between minorities in the East and West of the Mediterranean— an implicit relationship involving Christians under Islamic rule and Muslims under Christian rule—therefore exerted an influence on political decisionmaking, although of course it did not determine it. The Catholic King Manuel continued to assume his role as protector of Christian minorities, just as his predecessor Afonso V had. However, some time later (in 1510), European powers were unable to avert either the torture of the Convent of Mount Zion’s Franciscans or their expulsion from Jerusalem (along with the Greeks and Latins of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre)—events that constituted an extreme reaction to the naval defeat and destruction of the Mamluk fleet in Bayās.52 Sultan Qānṣawh alGhawrī finally moved from rhetoric to action in his repression of the Christians of Jerusalem.

Bibliography Primary Sources (Handwritten) Anonymous, Munshaʾa (Arabic), MS Arabe 4440, Paris, BnF.

Primary Sources (Printed) Catalán, D., Gran Crónica de Alfonso XI, vol. 2, Madrid 1977. Cénival, P. de, Les Sources inédites de l’histoire du Maroc. Première série: Dynastie saʿdienne, vol. 1, Paris 1934. Góis, D. de, Crónica do Felicíssimo Rei D. Manuel, ed. J.M. Teixeira de Carvalho and D. Lopes, Coimbra 1926.

Secondary Sources Arié, R., Les Relations diplomatiques et culturelles entre Musulmans d’Espagne et Musulmans d’Orient au temps des Nasrides, in Mélanges de la Casa de Velázquez 1 (1965), 87–107. Aubin, J., Le Latin et l’Astrolabe: Recherches sur le Portugal de la Renaissance, son expansion en Asie et les relations internationales, 2 vols., Paris 1996–2000. Barros, M.F. Lopes de, Christians and Mudejars: Perception and power in medieval Portuguese society, in Imago Temporis: Medium Aevum V (2011), 135–47.

51 52

Góis, Crónica 60; Barros, La primera expulsión. Aubin, Le Latin et l’ Astrolabe 479–82.

724

lopes de barros

Barros, M.F. Lopes de, La primera expulsión de los musulmanes de la Península Ibérica: el caso portugués, in F. Benlabbah and A. Chalka (eds.), Los Moriscos y su Legado— desde ésta y otras laderas, Rabat and Casablanca 2010, 54–67. Barros, M.F. Lopes de, Os Láparos: uma família muçulmana da elite comunal olisiponense, in L. Krus, L.F. Oliveira, and J.L. Fontes (eds.), Lisboa Medieval. Os rostos da Cidade, Lisbon 2007, 322–34. Barros, M.F. Lopes de, Tempos e Espaços de Mouros. A Minoria Muçulmana no Reino Português (Séculos XII a XV), Lisbon 2007. Bauden, Fr., Les Relations diplomatiques entre les sultans mamlouks circassiens et les autres pouvoirs du Dār al-islām. L’apport du ms. ar. 4440 (BNF, Paris), in AI 41 (2007), 1–29. Colin, G.S., Contribution à l’étude des relations diplomatiques entre les musulmans d’Occident et l’Égypte au XVe siècle, in Mélanges Maspero, vol. 3: Orient islamique, Cairo 1935–40, 197–206. Costa, J.P. Oliveira e, D. Manuel I, Lisbon 2005. Fonseca, L.A. da, D. João II, Lisbon 2005. Goitein, S.D. and O. Grabar, Jerusalem, in C.E. Bosworth (ed.), Historic cities of the Islamic world, Leiden and Boston 2007, 224–55. Gomes, S.A., D. Afonso V, Lisbon 2006. Harvey, L.P., Muslims in Spain (1500 to 1614), Chicago 2005. Harvey, L.P., When Portugal expelled its remaining Muslims (1497), in Portuguese Studies 2 (1995), 1–14. Little, D.P., Communal strife in late Mamluk Jerusalem, in Law and Society 6/1 (1999), 69–96. Pahlitzsch, J., Mediators between East and West: Christians under Mamluk rule, in MSR 9/2 (2005), 31–47. Soyer, Fr., The persecution of the Jews and Muslims of Portugal, Leiden and Boston 2007. Thomaz, L.F.F.R., De Ceuta a Timor, Linda-a-Velha, Portugal 1994.

chapter 24

Envoys between Lusignan Cyprus and Mamluk Egypt, 838–78/1435–73: the Accounts of Pero Tafur, George Boustronios and Ibn Taghrī Birdī Nicholas Coureas

There were frequent exchanges of envoys between Cyprus and the Mamluk sultanate during the period under discussion. Following the Mamluk invasion of Cyprus in 829/1426, an event provoked by Cypriot piracy against Mamluk lands and which marked the new determination of the Mamluk sultanate under Sultan Barsbāy (r. 825–41/1422–38) to use his sea power effectively, King Janus of Cyprus (r. 1398–1432) was defeated and captured at the battle of Khirokitia. The Mamluk invasion was a military success, notwithstanding the defects in the Mamluk galleys constructed at Beirut which resulted in the use of Nile barges and ships requisitioned from Western merchants in Egypt for the invasion fleet. Consequently, the Lusignan kingdom of Cyprus came under Mamluk suzerainty, and began sending an annual tribute payable in kind and especially in textiles, including camlet. The Italian maritime powers of Venice and Genoa, themselves major beneficiaries of trade with Egypt and Syria and hostile to the Lusignan kingdom in the case of Genoa, were unable and unwilling to prevent the reduction of Cyprus to tributary status. On the contrary, the imposition of the tribute benefited the Venetians indirectly because the tribute from Cyprus was paid in kind, not cash. It therefore acted as a stimulus for the export of Cypriot products to Mamluk lands, and Venetian merchants in Cyprus handled a major portion of such exports. Envoys between Cyprus and Egypt were exchanged in connection with the tribute payments, which continued when Venice took control of Cyprus in 1473 and after the imposition of direct Venetian rule in 1489. Indeed, the Venetians continued payment of the tribute in order to protect their considerable trade interests and wealth in Mamluk territories, especially since the money for its payment originated from Cyprus as opposed to Venice itself. Envoys between Cyprus and Egypt, however, also dealt with other issues, such as the transfer of power in Cyprus from the Lusignans to the Venetians, the Mamluk acceptance of this transfer, and Turkish piracy.1

1 Edbury, The Lusignan kingdom; Ouerfelli, Les Relations 338–9; Arbel, Venetian Cyprus 161–

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2019 | doi:10.1163/9789004384637_025

726

coureas

In this paper, I discuss the varied issues related to the social status, nationality, treatment, and means of communication employed by the envoys, oral or written. The evidence for the dispatch of envoys between Cyprus and Egypt derives mostly but not exclusively from the accounts of the Castilian nobleman Pero Tafur (d. ca. 1484), the Cypriot chronicler George Boustronios (d. late 15th c.), and the Mamluk historian Ibn Taghrī Birdī (d. 874/1470). All three writers have the merit of being contemporary to the events they recounted. Tafur and Boustronios both had direct access to the kings of Cyprus and Ibn Taghrī Birdī, who descended from a Mamluk of Anatolian extraction, was acquainted with the Mamluk sultans Barsbāy and Jaqmaq. The letter of Queen Charlotte of Cyprus to her husband Louis of Savoy, sent to him by the exiled queen from Rhodes in September 1464, forms another contemporary and valuable source for the dispatch of envoys, this time between Rhodes and Egypt, although in the course of returning from Rhodes to Cairo the Mamluk envoys traveled via Kerynia in Cyprus.2 The account of the Castilian nobleman Pero Tafur, sent as an envoy with letters to the Mamluk sultan Barsbāy by King John II of Cyprus (r. 1432–58) in 840–1/1437, concerns a mission undertaken in order to terminate the financially burdensome Mamluk embassies sent after 829/1426 to exact the tribute due from Cyprus. In 834/1430–1, Sultan Barsbāy sent no fewer than 300 Mamluks to Cyprus to demand arrears in the Cypriot tribute and they returned in less than one month with 3,000 dinars worth of camlets. No doubt the Cypriots were only too glad to see the back of such a numerous delegation, burdened as they were with the expense of providing hospitality for it. On King Janus’ death, the sultan sent another numerous delegation in two galleys to remind his heir King John II to continue payments, and the envoys received not only the tribute but also a gift. Anxious to end such expensive visitations by numerous Mamluk envoys the king or his council suggested that one Mamluk should reside in Cyprus to collect the tribute. Instead they apparently sent an amir with forty Mamluks, although this may simply refer to the size of the annual Mamluk delegation sent to Cyprus to collect the tribute. While King John continued making regular tribute payments, he naturally wished to end this costly practice.3 Tafur’s account, however, is also interesting for his descriptions of the procedures that envoys from Cyprus underwent in order to gain an audience with 2; Coureas, Losing the war; Coureas, The tribute; Coureas, Mamluks in the Cypriot chronicle 136–8 and 143–4. 2 Pero Tafur 12–3; Boustronios, Narrative, §§ 30–1 and 34; Popper, Abū al-Maḥāsin 138; Mansouri, Chypre 143–4; de Mas Latrie, Histoire iii, 129–30 note 1. 3 Ouerfelli, Les Relations 342 and note 84; Ziada, The Mamluk conquest 50 (note 1), 51.

envoys between lusignan cyprus and mamluk egypt

727

Sultan Barsbāy. It is noteworthy that Tafur respresented the king despite not being a native Cypriot, but a Castilian nobleman from Seville whose original intent in traveling was to visit Egypt and see Mount Sinai. The friendship Tafur struck, however, with Carceran Suarez, a fellow Castilian who had saved the life of the king’s father, the late King Janus, at the battle of Khirokitia and was then appointed admiral of Cyprus, is the probable explanation for his appointment as the king’s emissary to Cairo.4 Tafur’s account states that on arriving in Cairo he first visited the chief interpreter (trujaman mayor/tarjumān), himself a converted Jew also originally from Seville who received an income of two hundred ducats a year from both King John and formerly from King Janus on account of helping the latter while captive in Cairo, is a vivid illustration of the ways in which, then as now, personal connections facilitated diplomacy. Before going to the sultan, Tafur spent three days in the interpreter’s house, and on the third day the interpreter took the letters and showed them to Sultan Barsbāy, who, on seeing them with his advisors, had them sealed once again and then returned. The interpreter instructed Tafur, however, not to reveal the fact that his letters had been opened and then re-sealed in his audience with the sultan.5 They set off for the audience on the morning of the fourth day. On reaching the sultan’s quarters, which refers here to the citadel of Cairo, they passed through several gates opening onto plazas filled with Mamluk infantry and cavalry standing in ranks, a plaza filled with black men in ranks carrying clubs, and finally to a plaza likewise full of troops but containing a large tent and reviewing platforms where the sultan would receive the salute. The sultan rode forth into this plaza, with his son on foot and preceded by about two hundred ‘knights,’ as Tafur described the sultan’s amirs. The interpreter told Tafur to make a show of kissing the ground before approaching him, took his letters, placed them on his head and his mouth by way of a salutation and then gave them to the sultan. This description reflects changes in the location of displays of power that had taken place in Cairo from the late eighth/fourteenth century onwards, since the Circassian Mamluks took over the sultanate. The palace (qaṣr) in the citadel was no longer used as the location for such displays and was replaced by the great square at the foot of the citadel.6 Clearly this was where Tafur encountered the sultan. The fact that he was told to make a show of kissing the ground before approaching him is also worthy of note. From 825/1422 onwards Sultan Barsbāy had apparently abandoned the practice of prostration before the sultan and replaced it with a bow, but Tafur seems to have been required 4 Pero Tafur 6–7, 12–3. 5 Ibid. 12, 15. 6 Garcin, The regime 304.

728

coureas

to prostrate himself, possibly because he was an infidel. The presence of the sultan’s son in Tafur’s reception likewise reflects new practices in which the sultan’s family and his eldest son in particular had become more prominent in ceremonial displays of power.7 The letters Tafur brought with him, written “in another language,” were read to the sultan in Turkish, since “at his court no other language is spoken,” a surprising observation on Tafur’s part, for one would have expected Arabic to be spoken as well. The sultan, after asking Tafur about King John, Carceran Suarez, and others in Cyprus, informed him that he would grant the king’s three requests. The first was a request that the sultan not send to Cyprus the Mamluks he usually sent to collect the tribute as they caused him great expense; the second was for the sultan to accept the camlets sent as tribute at the prices they fetched in Egypt, which were higher than those fetched in Cyprus; and the third was that the king be allowed to sell Cypriot salt throughout the sultan’s domains without paying duties. Finally, the sultan gave Tafur a fine robe, “a rich Oriental green and red fabric worked in gold and lined with patterns of ermine.” Tafur correctly observed that such robes were normally given as a symbol of lordship, and compared this robe to those the sultan granted to the king of Cyprus, who was his vassal. This usage went back a long way, to an Armenian embassy to the Mamluk sultan Khalīl (r. 689–93/1290–3) in early 688/1289. The embassy had been sent to implore the sultan’s mercy, although the reason for this entreaty is not specified; the sultan was promised that the king of Cilician Armenia would obey whatever the sultan ordered—this was well received, and the ambassadors were given robes of honor.8 In 1432 King John II of Cyprus, while still a minor, had sworn fealty to Sultan Barsbāy who then had him invested with a robe of honor. Rejection of a robe thus conferred also signified rejection of vassal status. In Jumādā II 839/January 1436, just one year before Tafur’s embassy, Sultan Barsbāy received envoys from the Timurid ruler Shāh Rukh offering to invest him as the governor of Egypt and the enraged sultan tore to shreds the robe that Shāh Rukh had sent as a token of the sultan’s vassalage, while the unfortunate ambassador was beaten and immersed in a horse pond until he nearly died.9 Having received the sultan’s robe, Tafur returned to the interpreter’s residence, and sent the sultan’s written response to Cyprus by boat because he intended to sojourn in Egypt for another two months and visit St. Catherine’s monastery in Sinai.10 7 8 9 10

Pero Tafur 16. Stewart, The Armenian kingdom 72. Holt, The age of the crusades 186, 188–9. Pero Tafur 16–7.

envoys between lusignan cyprus and mamluk egypt

729

Tafur’s thorough account of his embassy to the sultan is invaluable for the details it contains about the procedures adopted for receiving foreign ambassadors, details that are not given elsewhere. The Mamluk sultan’s reception of ambassadors from Cyprus was not invariably friendly, as we see below. Here we simply observe that Tafur was also treated well on leaving Egypt. On going to Damietta to await the ship from Cyprus the local governor treated him honorably because he had brought with him letters of commendation from the sultan’s interpreter; thus, Tafur was provided, at the interpreter’s request, some cockatrice skin that the king of Cyprus desired as a gift. This animal, a cock with a snake’s tail, is a wholly imaginary creature mentioned in heraldry, and Tafur’s reply that a comely daughter of the governor would constitute a better gift seems to suggest that the author is simply being humorous in this passage.11 Mamluk interpreters, besides being official translators, were also responsible for the Christian pilgrims and communities of Christian merchants resident in Mamluk territories, and on occasion were themselves converts to Islam from Christianity or Judaism, like the interpreter mentioned above by Pero Tafur. This explains their function as mediators between Cypriot envoys and Mamluk sultans. Their importance continued well into the Venetian period of Cypriot history, especially following Venice’s direct annexation of the island in 1489. An outstanding example among them was the so-called chief interpreter (turziman grando) Taghrī Birdī, who held this office toward the end of the ninth/fifteenth century and headed a Mamluk embassy to Venice from 912/1506 to 913/1507, and was himself a Sicilian Jew who first converted to Christianity and then to Islam.12 Finally one observes that King John’s first request, that Mamluks not be sent to Cyprus to collect the tribute because of the great expense they incurred from his treasury, though honored by Sultan Barsbāy, was not honored by his successors. In 854/1450, in the month of Rajab/August, Sultan Jaqmaq (r. 842–57/1438–53) ordered Fāris al-Turkumānī to go to Cyprus to buy Mongols and have them sent to Cairo; he gave him a sum of money in gold and instructed him to use the tribute from the king of Cyprus for this purpose.13 Cypriot nobles were frequently sent to the Mamluk sultans as envoys. In a letter written shortly after Rabīʿ I 857/March 1453 by the Mamluk sultan Īnāl (r.

11 12

13

Pero Tafur 19. This chief interpreter, not to be confused with his namesake the historian mentioned at the start of this paper, had a career in the Mamluk court spanning more than thirty years, from sometime before 885/1481 to 917/1511. See Wansbrough, A Mamluk ambassador. See also de Mas Latrie, Histoire iii, 443–4, 477–8; Hill, History iii, 741, 823; Bosworth, Tard̲ ju̲ mān, 236; von der Höh, Muslim embassies 168–70, 174–5, 178–9. Mansouri, Chypre 95.

730

coureas

857–65/1453–61), following his accession, to King John II of Cyprus, the sultan referred to a letter King John had sent him via his ambassador Peter Podocataro. This noble belonged to one of the few Greek families that acquired noble status in Cyprus, a family that became prominent in the Venetian period. The letter Peter Podocataro conveyed to the sultan informed him of the festivities the king had organized in Cyprus to celebrate Sultan Īnāl’s accession to power. The organization of such celebrations in the provinces of the Mamluk Empire and not only in Cairo should not occasion surprise. They were organized on a regular basis to celebrate various occasions, the building of mosques, the attainment of military victories, births of children to the sultan’s household, the accession of a new governor, and the accession of a new sultan.14 The sultan’s letter of early 857/1453 shows that the practice had spread even to Cyprus, an island under Mamluk suzerainty but not directly incorporated into the empire, and perhaps the sultan had requested that celebrations be held there to mark his accession. Sultan Īnāl, pleased by this demonstration of loyalty, as well as the gifts of camlets and other textiles sent to him, wrote to the Ottoman sultan Meḥmed II (r. 855–86/1451–81), commending the king and asking Sultan Meḥmed to desist from pirate raids against Cyprus, and remit arrears of tribute amounting to 16,250 ducats that were owed from the time of the Mamluk sultan Jaqmaq.15 This letter was wrongly dated both in the document published by Louis de Mas Latrie and in the chronicle of Florio Bustron edited by René de Mas Latrie, where it is dated to 1456 and 1457 respectively.16 Peter Podocataro’s subsequent mission to Sultan Īnāl in late 863/1459, discussed below, was less successful. He arrived in the wake of two competing sets of envoys; following King John’s death in 1458 both his legitimate daughter Charlotte and his illegitimate son James aspired to the Cypriot throne and sought Mamluk support. James moved first to secure Mamluk support. He went to Cairo at the end of 862/1458 with his supporters, in particular the resourceful Brother William Goneme, an Augustinian friar who later became the Latin archbishop of Nicosia. There he won over the sultan’s son and some powerful amirs and persuaded Sultan Īnāl, who was apparently impressed by his personality, to support his claim to the throne of Cyprus. By way of expressing his support, the sultan bestowed robes of honor on James, Goneme, and another supporter named James Salviati. He also sent an envoy named Taghrī Birdī l-Ṭayyār to Cyprus to 14 15 16

Frenkel, Public projection; Arbel, The Cypriot nobility 189–90; Arbel, Venetian Cyprus 336. Iorga, Notes et extraits i, 525–6. Wrongly dated to 29 November 1456 by de Mas Latrie, Histoire iii, 73–5, and to early November 1457 in Bustron, Chronique 382–4. For the correct date see Iorga, Notes et extraits i, 525–6; also Hill, History iii, 522 note 7.

envoys between lusignan cyprus and mamluk egypt

731

make known his support for James, instruct the Cypriots to renounce Charlotte, and to reprimand them for having chosen Charlotte over James. This visit is not mentioned in Cypriot sources but is recorded in the contemporary chronicle of the Egyptian Ibn Taghrī Birdī, and the Mamluk envoy probably journeyed to Cyprus in the spring of 863/1459.17 The envoys sent by Queen Charlotte and her husband Duke Louis of Savoy who had arrived in Cyprus and formally married Charlotte in October 1459, did not arrive until probably late 1459. They were Philip de Seyssel lord of Aix, John de Lornes, and Sir Mounat, who brought the sultan presents and tribute and were received favorably, but all of them subsequently died of the plague. Several envoys of Charlotte’s rival James, including the nobleman John de Verni, likewise died of the plague. It was in such inauspicious circumstances that Peter Podocataro arrived in Cairo, having been sent by Charlotte and Louis after they learned of the death of the previous envoys.18 One observes here that Taghrī Birdī l-Ṭayyār, the Mamluk envoy sent to Cyprus early in 863/1459 to inform the Cypriots of Sultan Īnāl’s support for James, also accompanied Podocataro from Cyprus to Cairo. According to the contemporary chronicler Ibn Taghrī Birdī, al-Ṭayyār was accompanied by a delegation of the Frankish king and representatives of the inhabitants of Cyprus, but later he states that those who had arrived from Cyprus were divided into two groups, those supporting Queen Charlotte and those supporting her half-brother James. He also states that one week after their arrival the rival Cypriot delegations were granted an audience at the sultan’s palace; they kissed the ground before him, but the matter remained unresolved. The requirement that the Cypriots kiss the ground, as Pero Tafur had done in 1437, indicates that for non-Muslims at least, this continued to be a standard requirement, despite its supposed abolition in 825/1422 under Sultan Barsbāy, as mentioned above.19 On his arrival, Podocataro presented himself to the sultan bearing gifts; he was astute enough to bring presents to the amirs who influenced the sultan as well. He also promised to increase the tribute from Cyprus and had the support of the Hospitaller envoy who had accompanied him, John Dolfin, the commander of Nisyros. Dolfin had accompanied Podocataro on the instructions of James de Milly the Hospitaller Grand Master, who told him to urge the sultan to reach an agreement with ‘the king of Cyprus’ by whom he meant Louis of Savoy, although if the sultan wanted war he was to urge him not to harm the Hospi17 18 19

Mansouri, Chypre 89–90; Ziada, The Mamluk conquest 55–6. Boustronios, Narrative, §§ 40–1; Grivaud, Une petite chronique 334–5 and 338; Hill, History iii, 555–6. Mansouri, Chypre 90.

732

coureas

taller estates in Cyprus. As a result of the actions of Podocataro and the Hospitallers, the Mamluk sultan and those amirs supporting the amir Bardabak, the sultan’s second dawādār, came to support Peter Podocataro’s claim that Queen Charlotte was the lawful ruler of Cyprus. After the sultan summoned all the Cypriots into his presence, namely James and his supporters and the envoys of Queen Charlotte, he announced his decision to maintain Queen Charlotte in power. Robes and other presents were prepared for the queen and her envoys. Taghrī Birdī l-Ṭayyār, who had already been to Cyprus early in 863/1459 and had returned with Podocataro, was ordered to go there again as the sultan’s ambassador, and was given letters of accreditation as well as presents for the queen.20 James’ remaining envoys, however, and in particular the resourceful Brother William Goneme, were not sidelined so easily. Urging James not to despair, he and the Mamluk interpreter Naṣr Hous21 visited the amirs, as they had information that the amirs were inclined to support Charlotte. On account of this, during the assembly convened by the sultan a dramatic turnaround ensued; about this the accounts of the Cypriot chronicler George Boustronios and Ibn Taghrī Birdī, both contemporaries, are remarkably similar, with only minor differences. According to Ibn Taghrī Birdī, the sultan’s decision to support Queen Charlotte before the assembled Cypriots caused James to burst into tears. The sultan, unmoved, told him to return home. He departed from the assembly, followed by Queen Charlotte’s envoys, and at that point the so called ajlāb (or “newly bought”) Mamluks assaulted the envoys, tore up the robes the sultan had given them, and forced the sultan to acknowledge James. They also insulted the sultan’s second dawādār Bardabak who offered his resignation, though the sultan declined to accept it. He offered presents to James and issued orders that an expedition to accompany James to Cyprus be readied, and personally chose the Mamluks who were to take part. The sultan confirmed his support for James by inviting him to attend the festivities marking the birthday of the Prophet Muḥammad in Rabīʿ I 864/January 1460, something that scandalized the chronicler Ibn Taghrībirdī, given that James was not a Muslim.22 Boustronios’ account is substantially the same, but he states that as Peter Podocataro was waiting for the robes of vassalage to be conferred on Charlotte, himself, and John Dolfin, the rival claimant James appeared before them, whereupon the amirs assembled there and with one voice shouted “Long live King James!” They snatched the robe Peter was wearing and placed it on James, 20 21 22

Mansouri, Chypre 90–1; Boustronios, Narrative, § 41; Ziada, The Mamluk conquest 56–7; Hill, History iii, 556. For possible etymologies of this name, see Hill, History iii, 552 n. 1. Mansouri, Chypre 90–1; Ziada, The Mamluk conquest 57–8; Hill, History iii, 556–7.

envoys between lusignan cyprus and mamluk egypt

733

whose supporters had clearly outmaneuvered Queen Charlotte’s envoys. In addition, they granted James not only the remaining robes but also Charlotte’s envoys, whom James held in custody, though he subsequently released Peter Podocataro. As for the Hospitaller envoy John Dolfin, he was still detained in Egypt as late as Ramaḍān 865/June 1461, when the Hospitaller Grand Master sent the Catalan merchant Bartholomew de Parete to Alexandria with letters for him; de Parete then went on to Cairo to seek an audience with the sultan, intercede on behalf of John Dolfin and, if opportune, ask the sultan to restore Charlotte to the throne of Cyprus.23 The above events vividly illustrate some of the occupational risks attendant on envoys from Lusignan Cyprus and Hospitaller Rhodes to Mamluk Egypt, namely death through plague and imprisonment. They also show, however, how rival embassies from Cyprus to Mamluk Cairo could succeed in their mission not simply by exercising their powers of persuasion and paying bribes behind the scenes, but also by exploiting divisions within Mamluk court society. In the case of James and Charlotte, James and his supporters were able to impose James’ candidature to the throne of Cyprus not simply through bribery itself, but by bribing and otherwise winning over a court faction powerful enough to defy the sultan himself and to hurl abuse on the second dawādār in his presence, and thereby force him to switch support immediately to someone he had rejected. We observe here that the office of dawādār, whose holder was originally a civilian who carried the sultan’s inkwell, acquired increasing importance as time progressed, so that by the end of the Mamluk period the chief dawādār was the equivalent of the secretary of state.24 Despite securing Mamluk support for his claim to the Cypriot throne, James’ relationship with the Mamluks during the civil war between him and his halfsister Charlotte on Cyprus, which began in Dhū l-Qaʿda 864/September 1460 when James arrived with a Mamluk fleet near Famagusta, was far from secure. During the siege of Kerynia, held by Charlotte’s supporters, the Dominican friar Nicholas de Courio, the Latin bishop of Imbros, was sent in late 1460 as an emissary to the Mamluk admiral, to promise him that if the Mamluks were to leave Cyprus and allow Charlotte to become queen then she and her husband Louis would reimburse the sultan his expenses in sending troops to Cyprus to support James and to ensure that James was left with a fine income to live off thereafter. The admiral favored the bishop, though following impassioned entreaties by James, two hundred Mamluks and two hundred infantry were left on Cyprus

23 24

Boustronios, Narrative, §§ 41–2, 57; Hill, History iii, 556–7; de Mas Latrie, Histoire iii, 86. Holt, The structure 55–6.

734

coureas

under the command of the amir Jānibak. They continued to support James, though their presence was a mixed blessing.25 According to Ibn Taghrī Birdī, Jānibak and his men began to kidnap good looking youths from their parents, possibly to convert them to Islam and send them to Egypt to train and serve as mamlūks. When James sent emissaries telling them to stop this practice, the emissaries were beaten up and in the subsequent meeting between James and Jānibak the latter struck him, causing James’ followers to kill Jānibak and the twenty-five Mamluks with him. This took place in the autumn of 869/1464, following the capture of Famagusta from the Genoese at the beginning of 1464, an event wrongly dated by the contemporary Cypriot chronicler George Boustronios, a supporter of James, to 29 August, the probable date of the capitulation of Kerynia to James’ forces. Boustronios likewise acknowledges that James and his men massacred Jānibak and his Mamluks, although he justifies this by stating that Jānibak wished to “retain Cyprus and to kill the king.”26 To save himself and his cause from Mamluk retribution, James immediately sent an emissary to the sultan, who arrived in Cairo in early March. Ibn Taghrī Birdī’s account refers to him as ‘Jacob the Frank’ and states that Sultan Khushqadam (865–72/1461–7) subsequently appointed a certain Sūdūn alManṣūrī to accompany this Jacob back to Cyprus. Ibn Taghrī Birdī further states that Sūdūn left for Cyprus and “recounted many things,” something that suggests that he may have been sent there on a fact-finding mission following the fall of Famagusta and the massacre of Jānibak’s Mamluks. Boustronios likewise recounts that James sent an envoy to the sultan immediately after the massacre of Jānibak and the capture of Famagusta. As stated above, the Cypriot chronicler wrongly dated the fall of Famagusta to 29 August 1464 as opposed to early 1464 but he was nonetheless right about James sending an envoy to Cairo shortly afterwards. Furthermore, when he states that the envoy, whom he does not name, came with great presents and with complaints that Jānibak had been plotting to kill him and seize the kingdom, this must refer to the same ‘Jacob the Frank’ mentioned in Ibn Taghrī Birdī’s account. In his chapter on this embassy, Boustronios also recounts that Jānibak’s sister, furious at the sultan’s refusal to avenge his death, sent an assassin after James, although the attempt to kill him failed, a detail omitted in Ibn Taghrī Birdī’s account.27

25 26 27

Boustronios, Narrative, §§ 52–6. Boustronios, Narrative, § 88; Mansouri, Chypre 94–5; Edbury, Hoi teleutaioi Louzinianoi 219, notes 125–6; Edbury, The last Lusignans 193, notes 134–5. Boustronios, Narrative, §§ 88–90; Mansouri, Chypre 94–5.

envoys between lusignan cyprus and mamluk egypt

735

Boustronios states that James’ emissary succeeded in his mission, and so the sultan did not have James punished over the massacre of Jānibak and his Mamluks. The chronicler also makes it clear that by giving presents not only to the sultan but also to other prominent people in the sultan’s domains, the embassy ensured that the massacre of Jānibak and his men and the appeals his sister had made to the sultan for revenge were disregarded. In addition, at this point of his narrative Boustronios stated that James had doubled the tribute payable from Cyprus from the initial 8,000 ducats sent under King Janus to 16,000 ducats, although the additional 8,000 was cut shortly before James’ death in 1473. The Cypriot chronicler, while giving the impression that the tribute was doubled at this point in time, nonetheless does not state explicitly when exactly James doubled the tribute, a topic that merits further discussion. The likeliest point in time would have been when James and William Goneme were in Cairo in early 864/late 1459 or mid 864/early 1460, as they might have done this in an effort to outbid Peter Podocataro and the other emissaries working for Queen Charlotte, the legitimate heir to the throne. We may note that George Hill mentions the qualified assertion of Florio Bustron that the tribute was increased during James’ sojourn in Cairo in late 1459 or early 1460 as a condition of Sultan Īnāl’s support, but also the possibility that the tribute was increased in 1464, as part of James’ efforts to appease Sultan Khushqadam following the massacre of Jānibak and his Mamluk troops some time after the capture of Famagusta in the beginning of 1464. Peter Edbury inclines to the view that the tribute was increased following this massacre, while admitting that perhaps James did agree to the increase in 1460 when he invaded Cyprus with Mamluk support.28 James sent a second embassy to Sultan Khushqadam, probably (at the end of 868) just before 1 September 1464. A letter Queen Charlotte wrote to her husband Louis of Savoy from Rhodes on that day explicitly mentions William Goneme, the Latin archbishop of Nicosia and a prominent supporter of James, as his envoy. Goneme arrived in Cairo together with the surviving Mamluks, 1,000 pieces of camlet, and other merchandise valued at 20,000 to 25,000 ducats; this second embassy of early 869/late 1464 is also referred to by Ibn Taghrī Birdī. The purpose of his mission was, possibly, to announce the impending fall of Kerynia to James’ forces. The fact that it was headed by William Goneme, James’ most important envoy who had proved himself instrumental in securing vital support for him from Sultan Īnāl in 864/1460 against the claims of Queen Charlotte to the throne of Cyprus, attests to this embassy’s

28

Boustronios, Narrative, §§ 89–90; Hill, History iii, 557, n. 3; Edbury, Hoi teleutaioi Louzinianoi 220, note 129.

736

coureas

importance, as do the valuable gifts it brought. Such a high-level embassy was probably sent in order to counter Queen Charlotte’s own overtures to Sultan Khushqadam at this time. In her letter to Louis, which post-dated James’ dispatch of William Goneme as the head of his own embassy to the sultan, Charlotte stated that she had sent reinforcements to Kerynia under the command of Sor de Naves, who, on arriving there, switched sides and surrendered the town to James. She also stated that ambassadors of the sultan accompanied Sor de Naves to visit her on Rhodes. These ambassadors were to journey first to Kerynia and then on to Cairo. In this letter, Queen Charlotte stated that the sultan’s ambassadors were highly pleased with her, had promised her much, and had assured her that the sultan would return her kingdom. None of this came to pass, but on capturing Kerynia, James likely heard about these ambassadors (who had probably journeyed to Cairo before Kerynia’s surrender) from Sor de Naves himself. This would have impelled him to send his own embassy to the sultan, whose recognition of his person as the lawful ruler of Cyprus was essential.29 Given that this Mamluk embassy had visited Queen Charlotte at a time when her half-brother James, having conquered Famagusta, was on the point of taking Kerynia, one wonders why the Mamluk envoys promised her that the sultan was going to return her kingdom. It is possible that these were simply diplomatic pleasantries. On the other hand, one must remember that the massacre of the amir Jānibak and his Mamluks shortly after the conquest of Famagusta was still fresh in the sultan’s mind. By sending envoys to Queen Charlotte in Rhodes he may have been keeping his options open with regard to which of the competing claims to the throne of Cyprus he might choose to support. The dispatch of envoys to the queen was also an oblique way of putting pressure on James and securing his compliance to whatever the sultan might wish or demand from him. Following the Venetian annexation of Cyprus, the Mamluks pursued a similar policy of extending hospitality and encouragement to enemies of Venetian control over Cyprus, such as Rizzo di Marino, a former supporter of James forced to flee from Cyprus in early 1474, and Don Alonzo, an illegitimate son of King Ferrante of Naples whom the enemies of Venice hoped to install as ruler of Cyprus by marrying him to Charla, an illegitimate daughter of James himself.30 Following his final victory over Charlotte in 1464, James also obtained recognition as King James II of Cyprus in 1466 from the Venetian pope Paul II. His 29 30

De Mas Latrie, Histoire iii, 129–30, note 1; Hill, History iii, 619–20. Boustronios, Narrative, § 279; de Mas Latrie, Histoire iii, 391–3; Hill, History iii, 711–2, 725, 731 note 1 and 739.

envoys between lusignan cyprus and mamluk egypt

737

untimely death, probably from dysentery, occurred in July 1473, and although we cannot exclude the possibility that he was poisoned, it seems remote on the basis of the extant evidence. His death resulted in various embassies being sent from Cyprus to the Mamluk sultan Qāytbāy (r. 872–901/1468–96) in Cairo.31 Queen Charlotte persisted in her attempts to secure the sultan’s recognition of her right to be queen of Cyprus, while Catherine Cornaro, James’ Venetian widow who enjoyed the support of the Republic of Venice, was likewise anxious to secure the sultan’s recognition of her right to rule. The envoys recorded by George Boustronios who went from Cyprus to Cairo on Queen Catherine’s behalf excite interest inasmuch as they were not nobles or clergymen, but persons from other walks of life. One was Andrea Casoli, a burgess from the city of Famagusta, who was sent immediately after James’ death to inform the sultan of this news. This person is probably identical to the Andrea Cazulli mentioned in the inquest of 1459 against Napoleone Lomellini, a former Genoese captain of Famagusta, where he is recorded as having bought illicit merchandise from the Catalan pirate Lopez de Baldaia. On 20 August 1473 Andrea de l’ Orsa, whose social status is not specified, was sent on Queen Catherine’s behalf as an emissary to the sultan and on the same day a certain Constantine of Chios, a former soldier in the service of King James II, was also sent there to bring back Andrea Casoli, noted above. Casoli’s mission was successful. According to Boustronios, “the sultan showed himself well disposed towards him, having him clothed in cloth of gold. He ordered the tribute to be sent to him.” This passage is significant in showing that Casoli had secured the sultan’s recognition of Queen Catherine’s legitimacy.32 Additional confirmation of this can be found in a subsequent passage, where Boustronios narrates that the Mamluk sultan refused to see Bernard de Rivesaltes and Nicolin di Miglias, the envoys Queen Charlotte had sent him from Rhodes, whom he had detained in Cairo and then handed over to Queen Catherine’s ambassador so that they could be dispatched to her for her to deal with at her pleasure. Queen Catherine seems to have allowed them to return to Rhodes, where on 1 July 1474 they were both granted a safe-conduct by the Hospitaller Grand Master Gianbattista Orsini at Queen Charlotte’s request. Queen Catherine’s ambassador to Cairo at the time was Andrea alias Anthony de l’Orsa; he had Queen Charlotte’s envoys placed in his custody and brought to Cyprus by ship on 6 September 1473 together with a Mamluk envoy. Andrea de l’Orsa himself returned to Cyprus on 26 October 1473, bringing a message 31 32

Hill, History iii, 651 and 1159 [Addenda, 631]. Boustronios, Narrative, §§ 101, 111–2 and 120; Otten-Froux, Une enquête à Chypre 57, 141–2 and 235 (note 156).

738

coureas

from the Mamluk sultan that “the sultan is well-disposed towards Cyprus and he should be sent 24,000 ducats [in tribute] for three outstanding payments, and a good present because the queen has taken possession of her kingdom!”33 In conclusion, one can state that the dispatch of envoys from Cyprus to the Mamluk sultans of Egypt, suzerains of Cyprus from 829/1426 onwards, did not simply involve tribute payments, but on occasion could and did decide who ruled the small island kingdom. Recognition of the rulers of Cyprus by the incumbent Mamluk sultan and the cultivation of good relations with him was vital from the point of view of the later Lusignan rulers, and the envoys sent to Cairo did not invariably receive favorable treatment; on the contrary, they were imprisoned on occasion and in one instance died of plague. It is fortunate that the information available on Cypriot envoys visiting the Mamluk sultans is detailed, and we wish the corresponding information on the dispatch of envoys from the Mamluk sultans to Cyprus, and on one occasion to Queen Charlotte of Cyprus then in exile on Rhodes, was as detailed. The information on Mamluk envoys visiting Cyprus does indicate that the Cypriots viewed them, at least in the first half of the ninth/fifteenth century, as an unwelcome expense (because of their great number). On three occasions, all discussed above, the names of Mamluk envoys and their reasons for coming to Cyprus are given. The earliest occasion concerns the visit in 854/1450 of Fāris al-Turkumānī to Cyprus to purchase Mongols, the second that of Taghrī Birdī l-Ṭayyār early in 863/1459 to inform the Cypriots of Sultan Īnāl’s decision to support James’ elevation to the throne of Cyprus, and the third is Sūdūn al-Manṣūrī’s embassy in late 864/mid 1460, which seems to have been a fact-finding mission. Thus, the picture we have of the exchange of envoys between Mamluk Egypt and Lusignan Cyprus, which derives mainly from three chronicle accounts, one Castilian, one Cypriot, and one Egyptian, provides somewhat more information on the visits of Cypriot envoys to Mamluk Egypt than vice versa, albeit the information regarding the visits of Mamluk envoys to Cyprus is invaluable, though it is not always as detailed as one would like.

33

Boustronios, Narrative, §§ 122, 132, 149; de Mas Latrie, Histoire iii, 127, note 3.

envoys between lusignan cyprus and mamluk egypt

739

Bibliography Primary Sources Boustronios, G., A narrative of the chronicle of Cyprus 1456–1489, trans. N. Coureas, Nicosia 2005. Bustron, F., Chronique de l’île de Chypre, ed. R. de Mas Latrie, Paris 1886. Mansouri, T., Chypre dans les sources arabes médiévales, Nicosia 2001. Pero Tafur, Pero Tafur and Cyprus, trans. C.I. Nepaulsingh, New York 1997.

Secondary Sources Arbel, B., The Cypriot nobility from the fourteenth to the sixteenth century: A new interpretation, in B. Arbel, D. Hamilton, and D. Jacoby (eds.), Latins and Greeks in the eastern Mediterranean after 1204, London 1989, 175–97. Arbel, B., Venetian Cyprus and the Muslim Levant, 1473–1570, in N. Coureas and J. RileySmith (eds.), Cyprus and the Crusades, Nicosia 1995, 161–2. Bosworth, C.E., Tard̲ ju̲ mān, in EI2, x, 236–8. Coureas, N., Losing the war but winning the peace: Cyprus and Mamluk Egypt in the fifteenth century, in U. Vermeulen, K. D’hulster, and J. Van Steenbergen (eds.), Egypt and Syria in the Fatimid, Ayyubid and Mamluk eras VII, Leuven 2013, 351– 61. Coureas, N., Mamluks in the Cypriot chronicle of George Boustronios and their place within a wider context, in K. D’hulster and J. Van Steenbergen (eds.), Continuity and change within the realms of Islam: Studies in honour of Professor Urbain Vermeulen, Leuven 2008, 135–49. Coureas, N., The tribute paid to the Mamluk sultanate, 1426–1517: The perspective from Lusignan and Venetian Cyprus, in U. Vermeulen, K. D’hulster, and J. Van Steenbergen (eds.), Egypt and Syria in the Fatimid, Ayyubid and Mamluk eras VII, Leuven 2013, 363–80. Edbury, P., Hoi teleutaioi Louzinianoi [The last Lusignans], in Th. Papadopoullos (ed.), Historia tes Kyprou, IV, Nicosia 1995, 177–258. Edbury, P., The last Lusignans (1432–1489): A political history, in Epeterida Kentrou Epistemonikon Ereunon XXXVI (2011–2), 147–234. Edbury, P., The Lusignan kingdom of Cyprus and its Muslim neighbours, in Edbury (ed.), Kingdoms of the Crusaders from Jerusalem to Cyprus, Aldershot 1999, XI, 223– 42. Frenkel, Y., Public projection of power in Mamluk Bilād al-Shām, in MSR 11/1 (2007), 39–53. Garcin, J.-C., The regime of the Circassian Mamluks, in C.F. Petry (ed.), The Cambridge history of Egypt, vol. 1, Cambridge 1998, 290–317. Grivaud, G., Une petite chronique chypriote du XVe siècle, in M. Balard, B.Z. Kedar, and

740

coureas

J. Riley-Smith (eds.), Die Gesta per Francos: Etudes sur les croisades dédiées à Jean Richard, Aldershot 2001, 317–38. Hill, G., A history of Cyprus, 4 vols., Cambridge 1940–52. Höh, M. von der, Muslim embassies in renaissance Venice: The framework of an intercultural dialogue, in M. von der Höh, N. Jaspert, and J.H. Oesterle (eds.), Cultural brokers at Mediterranean courts in the middle ages, Paderborn, Germany 2013, 163– 82. Holt, P.M., The age of the crusades: The Near East from the eleventh century to 1517, London and New York 1986. Holt, P.M., The structure of government in the Mamluk sultanate, in P.M. Holt (ed.), The eastern Mediterranean lands in the period of the crusades, Warminster 1977, 44–61. Iorga, N., Notes et extraits pour servir à l’histoire des Croisades au XVe siècle, 3 vols., Paris 1899–1902. Mas Latrie, L. de., Histoire de l’île de Chypre sous le règne des princes de la maison de Lusignan, 3 vols., Paris 1852–61. Otten-Froux, C., Une enquête à Chypre au XVe siècle: Le Sindicamentum de Napoleone Lomellini, capitaine génois de Famagouste (1459), Nicosia 2000. Ouerfelli, M., Les Relations entre le royaume de Chypre et le sultanat mamelouk au XVe siècle, in Le Moyen Âge 2 (2004), 327–44. Popper, W., Abū al-Maḥāsin D̲ j̲amāl al-Dīn Yūsuf b. Tag̲ h̲rībirdī, in EI2, i, 138. Stewart, A.D., The Armenian kingdom and the Mamluks: War and diplomacy during the reigns of Het‘um II (1289–1307), Leiden 2001. Wansbrough, J., A Mamluk ambassador to Venice in 913/1507, in BSOAS 26/3 (1963), 503– 30. Ziada, M., The Mamluk conquest of Cyprus in the fifteenth century, in Bulletin of the Faculty of Arts II/1 (1934), 43–66.

chapter 25

Negotiating the Last Mamluk-Venetian Commercial Decree (922–3/1516–7): Commercial Liability from the Sixth/Twelfth to the Early Tenth/Sixteenth Century Gladys Frantz-Murphy

In 922–3/1516–7 both Mamluks and Venetians were in a precarious position, their commercial relations, which had flourished for two-and-a-half centuries, threatened.1 Mutual trade was lucrative for the Venetians, but vital to the Mamluks after the Portuguese disruption of Red Sea traffic. In 1509 the Portuguese defeated the combined fleets of the Mamluks, Gujarat, and Calicut off the coast of India. Amidst rapidly changing prospects, the Venetian senate vacillated, uncertain with which power to ally—the Mamluks or their erstwhile nemesis, the Ottomans. Both were involved in conflicts in the Mediterranean or along the routes to it from the Red Sea and the Persian Gulf. The Ottomans defeated their emergent eastern rival—the Safavids—in 920/1514, ending the threat of a Portuguese-Iranian alliance against them. But the Ottoman army then marched into and conquered Syria in 922/1516 and Egypt in 923/1517, alleging that the Mamluks had allied with the Safavids. Breakneck political transformations challenged Venice’s intelligence gathering network and diplomatic abilities. Communication routes between Venice and Egyptian ports were circuitous; a letter sent from Cairo dated 21 Shawwāl 922/17 November 1516 reached Venice four and a half months later on 30 March 1517. By the time the consul’s letter arrived in Venice, circumstances had been dramatically transformed. The draft decree in question (Chicago, OIM E13789) is in rather poor Arabic. On that basis alone, and without the historical context above and to follow, a venerable scholar asserted that the decree was issued by Egypt’s Ottoman conqueror, and his assertion was accepted and unchallenged for a 1 I would like to thank Philippe Assaf, Frédéric Bauden, Mary Margolies DeForest, R. Coeli Fitzpatrick, and W. Matthew Malczycki who provided valuable comments and suggestions. Any shortcomings are my own. I would also like to thank John A. Larson, Museum Archivist, Helen McDonald, Registrar, and Margaret Schroeder, Photo Services, at the Oriental Institute Museum.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2019 | doi:10.1163/9789004384637_026

742

frantz-murphy

century.2 Hartmann, who published a German translation of Moritz’s 1915 edition, was skeptical.3 But neither Moritz nor Hartmann had the benefit of several generations of researchers on whose work I base my reconsideration of the origins of this draft decree. Moritz’s edition of this draft of a commercial decree was published with a plate of the opening section before he sold the document, along with several hundred other Arabic papyrus and paper documents purchased in Egypt. Where the decree ultimately came to be housed was unknown. While working in the collection of the Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago I came upon a 2.923 meter-long paper scroll, OIM E13789, which I discovered is the decree that Moritz had edited and published in 1915 and Hartmann had translated into German in 1918.

1

OIM E13789

I present evidence that this document is a draft of a decree that was negotiated by the Venetian consul in Alexandria with the last Mamluk sultan, Ṭūmān Bāy (r. 13 Ramaḍān 922–22 Rabīʿ I 923/10 October 1516–14 April 1517), before Ṭūmān Bāy’s final defeat and execution by the Ottoman conqueror of Egypt, Sultan Selīm I (r. 918–26/1512–20). 1.1 Chronology of Historical Facts and the Decree’s Date The evidence that OIM E13789 (see figs. 25.1–25.9) is a copy of the draft of a Mamluk-Venetian decree, and not a copy of an Ottoman decree, includes: A) the chronology of historical facts that indicate that the decree is not Ottoman; B) the absence of the name of the issuing sultan; C) its script and colloquial Arabic; D) the mention of Egyptian ports only; and E) its absence in Venetian records. Writing in 1915, Moritz, who was Director of the Khedivial Library in Cairo, asserted that the Ottoman sultan Selīm I issued this decree on behalf of Venice. Against that assertion is the chronology of the following historical facts. The document is dated 22 Muḥarram 923/14 February 1517 (see fig. 25.9), a month after 29 Dhū l-Ḥijja 922/23 January 1517, the date of the opening battle of Sultan Selīm’s conquest of Egypt. The Ottoman conquest ended six weeks later with the final defeat of the last Mamluk sultan, Ṭūmān Bāy, on 10 Rabīʿ I 923/2 April 1517. According to Moritz’s chronology, the conqueror of Egypt, 2 Moritz, Ein Firman. 3 Hartmann, Das Privileg 202–3.

negotiating the last mamluk-venetian commercial decree

743

Sultan Selīm himself, executed this decree while Ṭūmān Bāy continued to resist the Ottoman army from a base in the Delta. Ṭūmān Bāy’s resistance went on for six weeks after this alleged Ottoman decree was purportedly issued. During those six weeks, Cairo was partially destroyed by Ottoman cannons and thousands in the city were reportedly killed.4 Why would the conquering Ottoman sultan have felt it necessary to issue a decree on behalf of the Venetians during his ongoing conquest of Egypt? And why would he issue a decree detailing Venetian commerce in Egyptian but not Syrian ports, since the latter had been incorporated into the Ottoman Empire eight months earlier. Theunissen, relying on Moritz, writes that the Venetian consul in Alexandria, reportedly either Tomaso Venier or Niccolò Bragadino,5 undertook to negotiate confirmation of a Venetian commercial decree with the last Mamluk sultan Ṭūmān Bāy, apparently without the knowledge or approval of the Venetian senate, “and succeeded in obtaining an official confirmation of the privileges the Venetians had held in the former Mamluk Empire.”6 Hartmann expressed doubt about the sequence of diplomatic events as postulated by Moritz, who asserted that Niccolò Bragadino was in Alexandria to greet the Ottoman sultan when this decree was written. But Hartmann argues that this is improbable, citing the diary of Niccolò Bragadino which places him in Famagusta on 1 January 1517. Hartmann doubts that Bragadino would have been able to travel from Cyprus to Cairo by 14 February because of the ongoing Ottoman conquest of Egypt.7 Theunissen, on the other hand, argues that it was possible for Bragadino to have traveled to Cairo in that time span.8 As culled from Sanuto’s Diaries by Arbel, the time it took news to travel during the Ottoman conquest makes it doubtful that Bragadino could have reached Cairo in six weeks.9 Venetian shipping between Cyprus and Syria had been halted in 922/1516.10 4 5

6

7 8 9

10

Winter, The Ottoman occupation 503–4. Theunissen, Ottoman-Venetian diplomatics, corr. version 7; Theunissen, Four Ottoman documents 85; Theunissen, Ottoman-Venetian diplomatics 149 and corr. version, chap. 1, 12 where the consul is reported as Niccolò Bragadino. Theunissen, Ottoman-Venetian diplomatics 149; Theunissen, Ottoman-Venetian diplomatics, corr. version, chap. 1, 12. Whether or not the decree was issued by the Ottoman or Mamluk sultan was not at issue in Theunissen’s thesis. Hartmann, Das Privileg 202 note 1. Theunissen, Cairo revisited note 25; Theunissen, Four Ottoman documents 85. Arbel, La République de Venise 120, and 118 on correspondence from Egypt to Venice being routed from Damietta, home to a Cretan colony, to Crete, Corfu, and ultimately Venice taking 44 days; Arbel, Venetian Cyprus 166 for Cyprus as an important communication and information center for Venice in the Levant. Arbel, Venetian Cyprus 169–70.

744

frantz-murphy

Writing contemporaneously, Sanuto records that the Venetian consul at Alexandria, Tomaso Venier, left Alexandria for Cairo on 22 October 1516, less than two weeks after Ṭūmān became sultan on 13 Ramaḍān 922/10 October 1516.11 Sanuto states that the consul sent a letter from Cairo to Venice dated 17 November 1516 in which he reported that he had met and negotiated an agreement with the sultan, contingent on the payment of back taxes, for the renewal of a commercial decree. However, Sanuto does not indicate that the new Mamluk sultan, Ṭūmān Bāy, actually issued a decree at that time.12 On 29 Dhū l-Ḥijja 922/23 January 1517 Sultan Ṭūmān Bāy escaped from the initial Ottoman battle at al-Raydāniyya outside Cairo and four days later mounted a surprise attack against the occupying Ottoman army. The decree in question is dated 22 Muḥarram 923/14 February 1517, seventeen days after that surprise attack. The Venetian consul’s letter dated November 1516 arrived in Venice on 30 March 1517, four months after the letter was sent and three days before Ṭūmān Bāy was finally defeated.13 While I address the language and other evidence that OIM E13789 is not a copy of an Ottoman decree, it is important to note that the first decree that Egypt’s Ottoman conqueror, Sultan Selīm I, did issue, and that mentions Egypt, was dated Cairo 24 Shaʿbān 923/8 September 1517, five months after the final defeat of the last Mamluk resistance in Egypt on 10 Rabīʿ I 923/2 April 1517, consistent with the time for news to have reached Venice.14 Sultan Selīm’s 14 Shaʿbān–14 Ramaḍān 923/September 1517 Ottoman decree was written in Ottoman Turkish; both the Ottoman Turkish decree and its Italian translation are housed in the Archivio di Stato di Venezia, and both bear the sultan’s insignia and are recorded in the Venetian registry.15 The Ottoman-Venetian decree written in Ottoman Turkish and issued by Sultan Selīm enumerates stipulations regarding Venetian commerce throughout the Ottoman Empire, and refers to “Miṣr” (Cairo in the Italian) only incidentally at the end of the decree.16 1.2 The Issuing Sultan In all published copies of translations of decrees, the authorizing sultan’s name is written in the second line of the decree. No sultan is named in OIM E13789. 11 12 13 14 15 16

Sanuto, I diarii xxiv, 135–7. Arbel, La République de Venise 123, citing Sanuto, ibid. Arbel does not state that a decree was issued, only that one was agreed upon. Ibid., citing Sanuto. Ṭūmān Bāy was hung in Cairo on 22 Rabīʿ I 923 (14 April 1517). Theunissen, Ottoman-Venetian diplomatics no. 18. Theunissen, Four Ottoman documents 91. Theunissen, Ottoman-Venetian diplomatics 386–97, lines 56–9 in the Turkish, 144–57 in the Italian translation.

negotiating the last mamluk-venetian commercial decree

745

1.3 The Script and Its Errors While Moritz explicitly states that the decree is a copy, he implies that the copy is an Arabic translation of an official Ottoman decree. The Ottoman chancery communicated with Venice in Greek until 908/1502, after which Ottoman communications with Venice were conducted in Ottoman Turkish;17 an OttomanVenetian peace treaty ratified in 1503 was drafted in 1502 in Greek and in Ottoman Turkish.18 While OIM E13789 is written in Arabic, Moritz asserts that the decree was “authored by a person who had limited Arabic writing skills who copied it with numerous errors.”19 Moritz implies that the original was written in Arabic and that the script and errors are evidence that the decree is a poorly-written, error-ridden copy of an official Ottoman decree issued by Sultan Selīm. Holt, Stern, and Viladrich note that al-Qalqashandī (d. 821/1418), who was employed in the Mamluk chancery, complained about the poor quality of Arabic in documents drafted by Franks and issued by the Mamluk chancery.20 Holt quotes his words: … So a clerk from each of the two parties, the Muslims and the Franks, would write it in vulgar, foul words for reasons of speed, until they concluded in agreement and mutual consent down to the last clauses of the truce … If the sultan’s clerk deviated in it as to the arrangement, the improvement of the words, and the eloquence of the composition, it would be rendered defective by departure from what the clerk of the Franks had previously agreed to … In short, I have cited the said texts in spite of their stupid wording and lack of orderly arrangement because they include the articles to which agreement was reached in times past.21 Al-Qalqashandī also informs us that decrees were actually written down as they were being dictated, hence grammar and eloquence was not likely a priority.22 Moritz attributes the author’s limited writing skills and numerous errors to the fact that the author was “a Turkish writer.” To be sure, the text is partially vocalized and there are extraneous orthographic signs, but partial vocalization is not evidence that the author was Turkish, nor is there anything in the Arabic or the script to indicate that the writer was Turkish.

17 18 19 20 21 22

Pedani, Gli ultimi accordi; personal communication 28 August 2010. Theunissen, Ottoman-Venetian diplomatics, corr. version 140–2. Moritz, Ein Firman 428. Viladrich, Solving the “accursed riddle” 30 and note 6 citing Holt, The treaties 68. Holt, Early Mamlūk 7, citing al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā iv, 58–9. Stern, Petitions from the Mamlūk period 251.

746

frantz-murphy

Moritz describes the script as “a type of diwani,”23 a generic name for chancery script. The script is very similar to that of an Ayyubid decree issued to the monks of Mount Sinai in 591/1194–5 by al-ʿĀdil, then effectively ruler of Egypt, later sultan (r. 596–615/1200–18).24 Stern and Khan both note that Mamluk chancery practices continued Ayyubid and Fatimid practices with some modifications due to changed circumstances.25 Khan, who published a copy of a Fatimid decree from the Fatimid chancery, notes that chancery copies were made in a smaller format with normal spacing between the lines, like the spacing in OIM E13789, and chancery documents imitate the original script, like the script in OIM E13789.26 The assertion that the decree in question is a copy of an Ottoman decree cannot be supported for the reasons outlined above: the chronology is at odds with an Ottoman decree, the issuing sultan’s name is absent, and the script and faulty Arabic was normal for the Mamluk chancery.

2

The Ports

The Mamluks lost Syria to the Ottoman Empire eleven months before OIM E13789 was drafted. As a Mamluk decree, it is not surprising that the OIM decree mentions only Egyptian ports—Alexandria, Damietta, and Rashid.27 Syrian ports had come under Ottoman control before this decree was drafted. Were the document Ottoman, one would expect the newly conquered Syrian ports to be named as well. The entire decree only addresses issues relevant to Venetian trade in the three Egyptian ports. The Italian translation of the authenticated Ottoman decree of 14 Shaʿbān–14 Ramaḍān 923/September 1517 mentions Egypt and Syria in the opening enumeration of Ottoman territories, while the Ottoman Turkish does not. In the remainder of the Ottoman Turkish decree the territories of Circassian Miṣr (diyar-i Misir Çerakese) are mentioned at the end of the decree (il paese del Cayro in the Italian), but only with reference to the fact that the tribute from Cyprus, which was formerly paid in Misir in fabric, would henceforth be paid in Istanbul (Constantinople in the Italian), and in specie.28

23 24 25 26 27 28

Moritz, Ein Firman 428. Stern, Documents 15, and pls. I–XII. Stern, Petitions from the Mamlūk period 240. Khan, A copy of a decree 447. Moritz, Ein Firman, articles 1, 2 (Damietta), and 23 (Damietta and Rashid). Theunissen, Four Ottoman documents 92–102.

negotiating the last mamluk-venetian commercial decree

747

2.1 The Venetian Registry All decrees issued by Muslim rulers on behalf of Venice were recorded in the official Venetian registry. The OIM document dated 22 Muḥarram 923/14 February 1517 was not recorded. As noted above, the diary (I diarii) of Marino Sanuto reports that a letter was received in Venice on 30 March 1517; it was sent by Tomaso Venier, the Venetian consul in Alexandria and dated 17 November 1516. According to Sanuto, Venier reported that he had negotiated a renewal of “capitulations” with the new Mamluk sultan, Ṭūmān Bāy.29 “Grudgingly Ṭūmān confirmed the trade agreements.”30 Ṭūmān Bāy’s agreement hinged on Venice’s paying 10,000 ducats as arrears for the past two years. The fact that the decree edited by Moritz is dated in February 1517 and not November 1516, when Venier reputedly obtained Ṭūmān’s agreement, indicates that Ṭūmān Bāy may have agreed to a renewal in November, but the issuance of the decree itself was dependent on payment of back taxes. If an official decree was issued by Ṭūmān Bāy in February 1517, it has not been discovered. Perhaps OIM E 13789 is the actual draft that was negotiated the previous November by the Venetian consul Tomaso Venier. But it has never been established that a decree was ever issued by Sultan Ṭūmān Bāy. 2.2 Conclusions The strength of the evidence presented—the chronology, the absence of a sultan being named in OIM E13789, the colloquial Arabic, and the script and colloquial Arabic of the document being consistent with Mamluk chancery practice, the mention of Egyptian but not Syrian ports, and the fact that the decree was not recorded in the Venetian registry—leads to the conclusion that the decree published by Moritz, now identified as OIM E13789, may be a copy of the last Mamluk-Venetian decree negotiated with the last Mamluk sultan, while the latter was contesting the Ottoman conquest of Egypt.

3

Liability

The incidence and occasion of collective, individual, and limited individual liability follows. In order to untangle the significance of individual as opposed to

29 30

Sanuto, I diarii xxiv, 135–7, cited by Arbel, La République de Venise 123. Sanuto’s entry does not state that a decree was issued. Brummett, The transformation 25. The provenance of the decree published by Moritz was not at issue in Brummett’s thesis, and she does not report that a decree was issued.

748

frantz-murphy

collective liability, it is necessary to briefly address the issue of the translation of recurring terms in commercial decrees, safe-conducts, and treaties. 3.1 Conceptualization and Terminology I have argued elsewhere that the “heading” (caput) of the clauses of preOttoman Arabic commercial decrees does not equate to the twentieth-century verb “to capitulate.” The earlier denotation of “to capitulate” as “to agree” continued into the nineteenth century.31 Twentieth-century translations designating the commercial degree itself as a “capitulation,” with its twentieth-century denotation, “to surrender,” reflect the imposition of a present-day conceptual framework onto historical analysis.32 Commercial decrees issued from the sixth/twelfth to the tenth/sixteenth century by Muslim rulers were not issued in defeat; decrees were issued in response to a petition requesting a decree. Narrative as well as documentary sources detail negotiations that led to the issuance of specific treaties, safe-conducts, and decrees. Decrees were not unilateral. As evidenced in detailed reports and extant contemporaneous correspondence, Arabic decrees are often explicitly mutual even if the decrees are stated in unilateral terms. In addition, contrary to the now antiquated but still often repeated colonial myth that Muslims did not engage in overseas commerce, decrees often explicitly present reciprocal commercial arrangements in Muslim and in non-Muslim territories. The projection of twentieth-century conceptual frameworks back in time reflects the colonial lens used in translations of Arabic terminology in commercial decrees. The Arabic decrees regularly refer to their conditions as “stipulations” (sharṭ, pl. shurūṭ), an exact translation of the Arabic. In Roman law stipulations arose from contracts based on oral questions and answers, that is, the offer of something and acceptance of something for that offer; stipulation was a continuation of pre-Roman practice.33 As noted above, Arabic decrees, while often formulated unilaterally, were based on a prior petition and negotiation. The Arabic “stipulation” has been translated as “privilege” in English, French, Spanish, and in nineteenth-century Ottoman Turkish, and so the mutuality of the implicit contract embodied in these decrees has been obscured.34 There is considerable legal difference between a contractual stipulation and a privilege. The documents in question, be they treaties, safe-conducts, or commercial decrees,

31 32 33 34

Oxford English Dictionary, s.v. Frantz-Murphy, Identity and security 253–5. Thomas, Textbook 258–63. Goffman, Negotiating 64.

negotiating the last mamluk-venetian commercial decree

749

facilitated commerce by conferring legal status on non-resident, non-Muslim merchants in territories over which a Muslim ruler exercised jurisdiction. This practice was a continuation of the Roman tradition of “private law,” a system of law for non-Romans developed to enable them to carry on commerce within the Roman Empire where non-Roman merchants otherwise lacked legal standing. In addition, five terms attested in the documents refer to merchants in Muslim territories to whom legal status is extended for commercial purposes; these have been translated into English, French, and Spanish, but not German, as “nation.” One of the most frequently attested, ṭāʾifa, was rendered into the twelfth-century Frankish “naciun”; I have argued elsewhere that ṭāʾifa connoted a legal entity akin to a “guild,” as is attested in ninth-/fifteenth-century Egypt, and in eleventh-/seventeenth-century Ottoman usage.35 By way of contrast, in the Ottoman-Venetian decree of September 923/1517, “millet” is translated from Ottoman Turkish into Italian as “nation.”36 In the Arabic decrees, ṭāʾifa certainly denoted a professional association with legal ramifications. Merchants were under the jurisdiction of their consul, and so I will translate ṭāʾifa as “association” in the following citations. Two terms attested in documents from Tunis are qabīla, “tribe,” and ʿashīra, “a clan, a subdivision of a tribe.”37 The fourth term, the neutral jamāʿa, denotes a “group” and connotes a “community,” “a group apart from the whole.” Finally, jins, “genus,” “kind,” came to indicate “nationality,” as in place of origin, but not pertaining to a political unit. Anachronistic translations of the foregoing seven terms in commercial decrees, safe-conducts, and treaties represent the projection of a twentiethcentury conceptual framework back in time. This practice obscures not only the character of the commercial decrees, safe-conducts, and treaties, but it also erases from history the continuation of Roman and pre-Roman forms of contract in the Muslim ruled world. 3.2 Collective Liability In the following I refer to all of the documents, be they decrees, safe-conducts or treaties, as commercial decrees. Truces (hudna, pl. hudan) are excluded, as

35

36 37

Frantz-Murphy, Identity and security 257; Hanna, Making big money 194; Hanna, Artisan entrepreneurs 67 and index; Goffman, Negotiating 65–6, defines taife, as a “community,” in the early seventeenth century, “an Ottoman legal accommodation on behalf of foreign merchants.” Theunissen, Four Ottoman documents 100, clauses 47/124–5. Roughi, The making 9–10 for the ambiguity of “tribe.”

750

frantz-murphy

these were issued only for states that had a contiguous border with Muslim ruled territory and so had very different stipulations.38 As an example of how deeply a twentieth-century conceptual framework has penetrated the investigation of commercial relations, the entry in the Encyclopaedia of Islam for commercial decrees is listed under the nineteenthcentury Turkish term “imtiyāzāt, commercial privileges, capitulations.” In the introductory section of that entry, the pre-Ottoman period, which occupies three-quarters of a page of a sixteen page article, Wansbrough states “All of the commercial privileges included, either explicitly or implicitly … abolition of collective responsibility.”39 Commercial decrees do not explicitly address collective responsibility, except in the case of corsairs and pirates. Nor have I found a single example of collective liability explicitly “abolished” in any of the twenty-seven commercial decrees published by Amari, Pozza, Predelli, Silvestre de Sacy, Tafel and Thomas, Viladrich, and Wansbrough. Collective liability is explicit in the case of attacks at sea or on land by pirates, corsairs, or robbers, as in the following example, clause 19 of a commercial decree dated 902/1497 (no. 4.10 below) issued on behalf of Venice and Florence, which stipulates:40 It has been mentioned that it is among the earlier Venetian stipulations (shurūṭ)41 that there are some from the Frankish associations (ṭāwāʾif )42 … who commit piracy … capture Muslims … and attempt to sell them, and Muslims compel the community ( jamāʿa) of Venetian merchants to buy the prisoners, and the offenders are not of their [the Venetians’] nationality ( jins)43 … if the offender is from the Venetian associations (ṭāwāʾif )44 they [the Venetians] shall be liable for him [the Muslim captive], but if the offender is not from them (minhum), they [the Venetians] shall not be liable for him. In this stipulation, even members of an association (ṭāʾifa) were subject to collective liability in the case of piracy if the pirates were of their nationality ( jins). 38 39 40

41 42 43 44

Pedani Fabris, Dalla frontiera. Wansbrough, Imtiyāzāt. See also Goffman, Negotiating 64. Translations of Arabic stipulations that follow are mine. Wansbrough, Venice and Florence 503; Christ, Trading conflicts 268, where collective liability for piracy is equated with ambiguity in sultanic policy with regard to collective liability. Ibid. 517, “privileges.” Ibid., “nations.” Ibid., “nation.” Ibid., “nations.”

negotiating the last mamluk-venetian commercial decree

751

3.3 Individual Liability Narratives of specific historical instances in which collective liability is imposed for acts of pirates, corsairs, or robbers may account for the explicit statement of individual liability in the ten attestations cited in section III below. For example, an Aragonese-Mamluk decree dated 839/1429 (no. 4.7 below) attests to limited individual liability. This may reflect the case of a Venetian who was held in Egypt from 816/1414 to 822/1420 for his brother’s non-payment of a forced sale at inflated prices.45 From 915/1510 to 917/1512 “all Franks” were held in Egypt due to political intrigues; a decree dated 1517 attests to individual liability (no. 4.13 below). Some of the thirteen commercial decrees explicitly state that merchant members of the association (ṭāʾifa) for whom the decree is issued, who arrive on ships of other nationalities ( junūs), shall not be taken for another member of their association (ṭāʾifa). Clause 31 of the Mamluk-Florentine decree dated 894/1489 (no. 4.9 below) attests: ‫سأل المذكور ُون صدقاتنا الشر يفة انه اذا حضر احد من ‖ الفرنتيين فى مركب لغير طائفته من‬ ‖ ‫اى جنس كان الى المين الاسلامية ‖ الثغر السكندرى وغيره و كا ن بها احدٌ من الفرنتيين‬ ‫ق لا يطلب به ‖ غيره من الفرنتيين ممن حضر فى‬ ٍ ‫وعليه طلب من جهة حراٍم او مفسَدة ٍ او ح‬ ً ‫المركب المذكور الا ّ ان كان ‖ ضامنا ًاو كفيلا‬ The aforesaid (Florentines) have requested of our noble bounties (ṣadaqāt)46 that when one of ‖ the Florentines arrives in a ship belonging to an association (ṭāʾifa)47 of whatever nationality ( jins)48 at ‖ the Islamic harbors, the port of Alexandria or other than it, in which one of the Florentines ‖ is sought for something prohibited (ḥarām),49 a transgression (mafsada),50 or right, ‖ no other Florentine, such as he (the Florentine) who arrived in the aforesaid ship, shall be pursued in the place [of the one sought], unless ‖ he is surety or guarantor.

45 46

47 48 49 50

Apellániz Ruiz de Galarreta, Banquiers, presents a detailed analysis of the affair. Ṣadaqāt, literally “alms”; Wansbrough, A Mamlūk commercial treaty 69, “benevolence”; Stern, Petitions from the Mamlūk period 238–9, uses “bounties,” in a petition to Baybars in 659/1261, and according to chancery formulary detailed by al-Qalqashandī. Wansbrough, Venice and Florence 69, “nation.” Ibid., “race.” Ibid., “crime”. Ibid., “misdemeanor.”

752

frantz-murphy

Implicit in this clause is that a commercial decree extended individual liability only to the members of the association (ṭāʾifa) for whom the decree was written. Individual liability extended to sailors in clause XXVII of decree no. 4.10 (below) dated 902/1497, but under Muslim jurisdiction, not that of the consul: ‫ ‖ متولى‬51‫واذا وقع بين ‖ بحر يتهم و بين احد من المسلمين منافسة بسبب بيع او شرآء ٍ لا يتعلق‬ ‫بيروت على احٍد من التجار المقيمين ببيروت بسبب احٍد من البحر ية بل ياخذ ‖ حق المظلوم‬ ‫من ظالمه من غير ان يتعرض لاحٍد من التجار او لوكلآ التجار ‖ بسبب البحر ية‬ If a dispute (munāfasa)52 ‖ breaks out,53 between one of their sailors and one of the Muslims, over selling or buying, ‖ the superintendant (mutawallī) of Beirut will not hold54 one of the merchants residing in Beirut on account of one of the sailors, but on the contrary he will take ‖ the right of the one wronged from the wrongdoer, without offering opposition to one of the merchants, or the agents of the merchants, ‖ because of the sailors. According to this stipulation individual liability explicitly extended to sailors. But disputes between sailors came under the jurisdiction of Muslim authorities, not that of the consul. Consular jurisdiction extended only to the consul’s association of merchants. As continues to be the case today, a ship’s crew could be comprised of sailors from territories under many different jurisdictions. At sea sailors were under the captain’s jurisdiction, but in port, sailors were under the jurisdiction of the Muslim authorities. 3.4 Limited Liability With regard to the translations of terms indicating limited individual liability, five terms in the following stipulations have hitherto been translated into twentieth-century legal terminology—ḥarām and dhanb as “crime,” mafsada as “misdemeanor,” and both munāfasa and mushājara as “strife.” Such terminology implies criminal liability for a loss sustained in commerce. In contrast, translating these words according to contemporaneous denotations and con51 52 53 54

Ibid. 506 edited to ‫يتغلق‬, Form V is not attested. Ibid. 520, “strife.” Ibid., “is,” “If there is strife …” Lane and Lane-Poole, An Arabic-English lexicon v, 2134; Wansbrough, Venice and Florence 520, “incarcerate.”

negotiating the last mamluk-venetian commercial decree

753

notations allows for a different understanding of limited individual liability in commercial transactions. According to their contemporaneous meanings— ḥarām becomes “prohibited,” mafsada “wrong,” munāfasa “dispute,” mushājara “contention,” and dhanb “transgression.” It is likely that these five terms referred to individual liability as limited in commerce to the loss sustained.55 Thus, a different portrait of commercial relations between Muslim and Frankish rulers of non-contiguous territories from the sixth/twelfth to the tenth/sixteenth century, even during the period of the crusades, emerges when we examine the larger corpus of commercial decrees through the lens of a specific stipulation and within its historical context. 3.5 Conclusions to Liability A contemporaneous reading of terms attested in commercial decrees sheds light on commercial liability and on who was held liable as stipulated in commercial decrees. Limited individual liability is attested in thirteen of twentyseven commercial decrees, safe-conducts, and treaties. When limited liability is attested, it is explicitly stated as individual liability and is applicable only to the members of the association (ṭāʾifa) on behalf of which the decree is issued. Contemporaneous denotations and connotations indicate that individual liability was limited to the loss sustained. Consular jurisdiction extended only to members of the consul’s association (ṭāʾifa). Sailors appear to have been in another legal category. In an attestation of the individual commercial liability of sailors, we find that sailors are subject to the jurisdiction of local Muslim officials and not that of a consul. Collective liability is regularly attested with reference to corsairs, pirates, and robbers, and in those cases liability is unlimited.

4

Documentary Stipulation of Limited Individual Liability

Documentary attestations of clauses that stipulate limited individual liability can be correlated with specific historical incidents involving pirates or corsairs, sultanic or local officials’ abuses, or political intrigue and warfare in most instances. Decrees were issued in response to petitions, by request and through negotiation after which an authorization to grant a decree was issued. Decree

55

Christ, Trading conflicts 229–70, documents a case of civil liability and redress for the amount owed without damages. Conflict arose over cheating, ignoring rules, and conflict of interest among Venetian merchants and among Mamluk officials and the sultan.

754

frantz-murphy

no. 11 below is from such an authorization. The authorization embodied terms that were agreed upon in intervening negotiations. Limited individual liability, as in the case of the copy of the last attempt to negotiate a Mamluk-Venetian decree below, probably reflects a response to recent historical incidents involving corsairs, abuses, and conflicts. In the following, I examine the limited individual liability that is attested in thirteen of twenty-seven commercial decrees, safe-conducts, and treaties. 4.1 636/1238 Ayyubid-Venetian Safe-Conduct 3 Rabīʿ II 636/11 November 1238 issued by al-Malik al-ʿĀdil II Sayf al-Dīn (635– 7/1238–40). This Latin translation of an Arabic safe-conduct was issued by the Ayyubid sultan al-Malik al-ʿĀdil II, grand nephew of Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn (r. 564–89/1169–93), a year before the expiration of a treaty issued by his father, Sultan al-Malik al-Kāmil (r. 615–35/1218–38), with the Holy Roman Emperor Frederick II (r. 1220–50). AlMalik al-ʿĀdil II reportedly renewed the treaty to continue his father’s policy of encouraging commerce. In the midst of increasing conflict in northern Syria (caused by the Mongol advance into Khwarizm pushing refugees West), civil war between al-Malik al-ʿĀdil and his brother erupted.56 A Latin translation is preserved in Libri Pactorum, a “Book of Pacts,”57 and entitled cartula fidantiae, “memorandum of safe-conduct.” Heading 6 of this Latin translation of the safe-conduct attests to prevailing collective liability in the event of piracy and robbery, but excludes Venetian merchants, for whom the safe-conduct is issued, from collective liability. Heading 7 attests limited individual liability in commerce. (6) Capitulum. In hoc, quod dixerunt de facto corsariorum, si ipsi acceperint aliquem mercatorum Sarracenorum vel apprehendissent, non capietur ullus Venetus, neque retinetur propter hoc, neque dampnum inde habebit. Heading. In this, about the deeds of corsairs, if one takes or seizes any merchant of the Saracens, no Venetian may be captured or retained because of it, nor have a loss therefrom.

56 57

Mayer, The crusades 227–30; Irwin, The Middle East 19. Tafel and Thomas, Urkunden ii, 338; Hartmann, Die Islamisch-Fränkischen Staatsverträge 36 for a German translation. Stern, Petitions from the Ayyūbid period 17 for comments on this edition. Stern cites a slight variant published by de Mas Latrie.

negotiating the last mamluk-venetian commercial decree

755

(7) Capitulum. De hoc, quod petierunt, si aliquis Venetus debuisset aliquid alicui per debitum, non capietur aliquis pro eo, nisi solus debitor. Heading. About this thing that they sought, if a Venetian owes anything to anyone [as a result] of a loan, no one may be seized [or held] for this except the debtor himself. These two stipulations make a clear distinction between criminal and commercial liability; unlimited collective liability applies to criminal liability but limited individual liability applies to commercial liability. 4.2 652/1254 Mamluk-Venetian Safe-Conduct Pact58 25 Ramaḍān 652/13 November 1254, Sultan al-Muʿizz ʿIzz al-Dīn Aybak (r. 648– 55/1250–7). With the defeat of the invading Mongols in 648/1250, the possibility of a Mongol-Crusader alliance against the Muslim ruled East came to an end. Aybak came to the sultanate inaugurating the Mamluk dynasty (648–923/1250–1517), though he was a compromise candidate and shared power with a rival, at least until 652/1254. Aybak faced Bedouin revolts in Upper Egypt and attempts to reinstate the Ayyubid dynasty. His successful defeat of those attempts solidified his authority in 652/1254.59 Aybak was anxious to encourage Venetian merchant activity in his dominions, and commerce with Frankish associations increased throughout the Mamluk period. Capitulum. Item, si aliquis Venetus fecerit debitum uel iniuriam alicui Sarraceno uel alijs, non impediatur Venetus alius pro eo, nisi propria persona illius, qui fuerit culpabilis, et non alius pro eo. Heading. Also, if any Venetian takes a loan from or injures any Saracen or anyone [else], no other Venetian will be held for him, unless he [the imprisoned] is the representative of the one who is culpable, and the person held. A “representative” in this stipulation probably refers to a guarantor or surety. Non-standard references in nos. 4.9 and 4.11 may also refer to security in the form of a guarantor or surety. 58 59

Tafel and Thomas, Urkunden ii, CCCXXV, 486. Irwin, The Middle East 26–9.

756

frantz-murphy

4.3 August 701/1302 Mamluk-Venetian Agreement and Treaty60 August 701/1302, al-Nāṣir Muḥammad (second reign: 698–708/1299–1309). This decree was issued in the name of the nominal Sultan al-Nāṣir (aged seventeen) when his power was contested between Turkish and Circassian Mamluk factions and the threat of yet another Mongol invasion loomed. Item quicumque Venetus uel qui per Venetum se distringit seu clamat, no possit peti uel constringi pro aliequa alia persona, nisi esset proprius plezius uel appactor.61 Also whoever is a Venetian or who does business for a Venetian or complains for a Venetian cannot be sought or constrained for any other individual unless he is the person [involved in] making the contract [i.e., signed a surety]. This stipulation explicitly refers to a guarantor or surety and uses well-documented, late Latin terminology. Wansbrough asserts that guarantors or surety are attested in all of the commercial decrees.62 They are, however, attested in only eight of thirteen stipulations of limited individual liability (nos. 4.3–4.8, 4.10, and 4.13). Possible reference to a guarantor or surety is attested in nos. 4.2, 4.9, and 4.11. Neither guarantors nor surety are attested in the Ayyubid decree (no. 4.1) or in no. 4.12 from Bādis. Guarantee or suretyship, along with stipulation may be the oldest forms of contract. Guarantees were the most common form of security; both arose from the Roman concept of obligation arising from friendship.63 4.4 705/1305 Hafsid-Venetian Treaty64 11 Muḥarram 705/3 August 1305, Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad II al-Muntaṣir (Abū ʿAṣīda) (r. 694–709/1295–1309). Roughi details the importance and extent of the Hafsid dynasty’s role as middle-men between products from the coastal hinterland and Frankish merchants.65 The rather difficult late vernacular Latin reads: 60 61 62 63 64 65

Thomas and Predelli, Diplomatarium i, 5–9, no. 4; 8, sixth item. Wansbrough, The safe-conduct 33. Ibid. Thomas, Textbook 328. Thomas and Predelli, Diplomatarium i, 35, no. 20, third item. Roughi, The making, chap. 3.

negotiating the last mamluk-venetian commercial decree

757

Item quando aliquis eorum fugerit et dare debeat hauere doana uel alicui Saracenorum uel Christianorum, quot illud non petatur alicui Venetorum, nisi suus steterit fidejussor, sed consul teneatur inquirere illum et res suas et satisfacere de eo quod illi inuenietur ei de rebus suis, et si consul non possit satisfactionem facere, quod Dux Venetiarum sit satisfactor illius, et soluat pro ipso de eo, quod illi inuenietur. Also when any one of them has fled and owes customs, whether to a Saracen or to a Christian, those customs cannot be taken from any [other] Venetian unless he has stood as his own surety, but the consul must be held to examine him and his affairs and provide satisfaction to who [is owed the debt] found [to be owed], and if the consul is not able to satisfy [the debt], the commander of the Venetians must satisfy [it] and cover that man for what has been found against him [i.e., what that man owes]. This unique stipulation in a vernacular Latin translation reveals that a Venetian could be his own surety. But if no one stood surety, apparently, the consul and ultimately the Venetian commander could be held as surety. 4.5 713/1313 Hafsid-Pisan Peace Treaty 21 Jumādā I 713/14 September 1313, Hafsid-Pisan peace treaty (kitāb ṣulḥ) concluded between Abū Yaḥyā Zakariyyāʾ (r. 711–7/1311–7) and a Pisan messenger (rasūl).66 This peace treaty extends to “the exalted capital (ḥaḍra) (Tunis) and to all its lands (bilād) of the interior under his allegiance (ṭāʿ) and what will yet be conquered.” ‫وان فرَ ّ بيشاني او غّر بر َهن او حق الجانب الـكر يم او لاحد من المسلمين فالا ي ُطلب قنصل‬ ‫ بنفسه‬67‫البيشانيين ولا تجارهم بذلك ان لم يكونوا ضامنين له ولا يطلب بذلك الا الجائي‬ If a Pisan flees or falsifies evidence or right of the Noble Excellence,68 or of anyone of the Muslims, he [the Muslim] will not pursue the consul of the Pisans for that, or their [Pisan] merchants for that, if they [Pisans] are

66 67 68

Amari, I diplomi arabi, no. XXIX, 93, clause 29. Ibid.: ‫الجاني‬. Ibid., “frodi un deposito o un credito della nobile Eccellenza.”

758

frantz-murphy

not sureties for it. And he [the Muslim] will not pursue that except from the one [i.e., who stands surety]69 for himself. A document dated 713/1314 attests to the continuing activity of pirates from a port city named Bijāya (west of Tunis) that was the seat of a rival amirate.70 Hafsid expansion reached the rival port of Bijāya in 1318, hence the reference in the Hafsid-Pisan treaty to “what will yet be conquered.”71 In fact Hafsid expansion continued until the 770s/1370s. 4.6 744/1344 Mamluk-Venetian Safe-Conduct72 Al-Ṣāliḥ ʿImād al-Dīn Ismāʿīl (r. 743–6/1342–5). This Latin copy of the decree dates from a period when Egypt was unchallenged and enjoyed a long period of peace following the 722/1322 treaty with the Ilkhanids that ended the possibility of their forming an alliance with Genoa. Peace with the Ilkhanids opened up opportunities for the Mamluks on the southeast coast of Asia Minor. In 732/1332 the Mamluks attacked Ayas and exacted tribute. Hitherto lacking a navy, Ayas became an important port for access to shipbuilding timber. And in 738/1338 the Mamluks temporarily occupied Sīs, the Armenian capital.73 30. Item quod aliquis Venetus non astringatur neque teneatur pro aliquo alio Veneto in terra neque in mari, nisi esset pleszius illius, qui teneretur. Also, that another Venetian will not be detained, nor held for another Venetian on land nor on sea, unless he, who is to be held, is the guarantor (pleszius). In this safe-conduct a guarantor but not surety is attested. 4.7 832/1429 Mamluk-Aragonese Decree 3 Dhū l-Qaʿda 832/4 August 1429, Aragon-Mamluk draft of a decree issued by King Alphonso V (r. 1416–58) and Sultan Barsbāy (r. 825–41/1422–38).74

69 70 71 72 73 74

Ibid., “colpevole in persona.” Roughi, The making 91, citing a letter in the Archivo de la Corona de Aragón. Ibid. 91 note 72, and 11. Thomas and Predelli, Diplomatarium i, no. 154. Northrup, The Baḥrī Mamlūks 284–5. Viladrich, Jacque al sultan clause 9.

negotiating the last mamluk-venetian commercial decree

759

Viladrich comments on the grammar and vernacular Arabic of this decree and published a missing clause that attests to negotiations between the king and the sultan about their mutual fears of pirates.75 The decree was drafted in Barcelona, but revised and issued in Rhodes, then ruled by the Knights Hospitallers. A policy of forced sales, which was begun by Sultan al-Muʾayyad Shaykh (r. 815–24/1412–21) became what the literature refers to as state monopolies under his successor, Sultan Barsbāy. That commercial policy led to a period of rivalry among European associations, in which the King of Aragon competed for access to Mamluk commerce.76 A Mamluk war with Cyprus in 823/1420 would have presented opportunities for Aragon. In 829/1426 Cyprus came under the sovereignty of the Mamluks and thereafter paid an annual tribute.77 Clause 9: ‖ ‫يسالون الصدقات الشر يفة من كان عليه من التجار او رعية‬ ‖ ‫الملك اركون تعلق بسب َب دين او ثمن بضاعة بيعت‬ ‖ َ‫عليهم بالنسيةَ او وديعة والحق لاحد من رعية مولانا‬ ‖ ‫ضاعة لا يلزم ُوا عن‬ َ ‫ضة او ب‬ ّ َ ‫سلطان ذهبا ًكان او ف‬ ّ ُ ‫ال‬ ‖ ‫بعضهم البعض من ذلك لا الوالد عن الولد ولا الولد عن ابيه‬ ‖ ‫وانما يلزم الذي يكون الحق عليه او المود َع عند َه والكافل في ذمته‬ They requested of our noble benevolence (ṣadaqāt) that those who are among the merchants or subjects78 ‖ of the King of Aragon [who are] constrained by reason of a debt or [collecting] the price of merchandise sold ‖ to them on credit, when the deposit and the right belongs to one of the subjects of our Lord (mawlā)79 ‖ the Sultan, being in gold or silver or in merchandise, that some of them [who are Venetian] not be liable for ‖ some other [Venetian] on account of that [debt, or default on a loan], that fathers [not be held] for sons nor sons for fathers, ‖ rather, that the one who holds the deposit be liable, or the one who guaranteed liability (dhimma).

75 76 77 78 79

Viladrich, Solving the “accursed riddle” 28–9. Apellániz Ruiz de Galarreta, Banquiers, citing the Archivo de la Corona de Aragón. Arbel, Venetian Cyprus 159–60. Literally, “herd,” or “flock,” as in the King as Good Shepherd. Literally, “client”; Stern, Petitions from the Mamlūk period 238–9, “slave” in Mamluk documents, would not be appropriate here.

760

frantz-murphy

This is the earliest attestation of the formula “not the father for the son and not the son for the father” in a stipulation of limited individual liability. And, as noted above, one Venetian was held for another in Egypt from 816/1414 to 823/1420.80 Subsequently, this formula is attested in five Mamluk decrees, four on behalf of Venice and one on behalf of Florence. 4.8 846/1442 Mamluk-Venice Treaty81 26–27 Jumādā I 846/1–2 October 1442 issued by Sultan Jaqmaq (r. 842–57/1438– 53). Beginning in 831/1428 under Sultan Barsbāy and continuing under Jaqmaq and his successors, there arose the problem of a serious lack of discipline among Mamluk recruits; in the meantime, Catalan and Genoese pirates further weakened Jaqmaq’s regime and made commercial relations with Venice even more important.82 According to Wansbrough, this treaty, preserved in Italian, is the basis of the Mamluk-Florentine decree no. 9 dated 894/1489, as in the following.83 E se algun marchadante sera obligado a Mori, chel padre non sia oblige per lo fio, ne lui per laltro, salvo sel non fosse piezo84 per carta. And if any merchant is obligated to a Muslim, the father shall not be obligated for the son, nor him for another, if he is not guarantor by charter. Amari published an Italian draft of this treaty, which contains a longer and repetitive limited individual liability clause that refers to merchants rather than father and son.85 4.9 894/1489 Mamluk-Florence Decree Dhū l-Ḥijja 894/31 October 1489 issued by Sultan Qāytbāy (r. 872–901/1468–96). During the Ottoman-Venetian wars that lasted from 867/1463 to 884/1479, Sultan Meḥmed II (r. 855–86/1451–81) encouraged Florentine commerce in order

80 81 82 83 84 85

Christ, Trading conflicts chap. 14. Wansbrough, Venice and Florence 493. Garcin, The regime 294–5. Wansbrough, Venice and Florence 485. Wansbrough, The safe-conduct 33, “piezo,” “guarantor.” Amari, I diplomi arabi 350.

negotiating the last mamluk-venetian commercial decree

761

to decrease its dependence on Venice. Florentine-Mamluk commercial relations also improved at this time.86 In 895/1489 Cyprus became a Venetian colony but continued to pay annual tribute to the Mamluks, thereby avoiding subordination to the more powerful Ottoman Empire.87 Wansbrough notes that this Mamluk-Florentine treaty was based on the earlier Mamluk-Venetian treaty no. 5 of 845/1442. Two different limited liability clauses are attested in this decree. The first, clause XVIII, follows.88 The second is cited above under Individual Liability. ‫سألوا صدقاتنا الشر يفة بروز امرنا الشر يف انه اذا كان على ‖ احد من تجارهم او من طائفتهم‬ ‫وعليه حقوق شرعية لاحٍد من ‖ المسلمين او كان بينهما ضراب او مشاجرة لا يلُز َم غيره من‬ ‫طائفته ‖ وابنا َجنسه بذلك حتى ولا الا بن بالاب ولا الاب بالا بن ‖ الا بطر يق شرعى‬ They requested of our noble benevolence (ṣadaqāt) issuance of our noble order, that when ‖ one of their merchants or their association (ṭāʾifa) owes legal rights [a debt, or default on a loan] to one of ‖ the Muslims, or if there is a dispute (ḍarrāb)89 between them or contention (mushājara),90 [they requested that] no one else from his association (ṭāʾifa), ‖ even sons of its nationality ( jins), shall be liable, not even a son for a father or a father for a son, ‖ except by legal process [surety]. As noted above, “legal process” may refer to security in the person of a guarantor or surety. 4.10 902–1497 Mamluk-Florentine and Venetian Decree91 25 Jumādā I 902/29 January 1497 signed by Sultan al-Nāṣir Muḥammad (r. 901– 4/1496–8). The second half of clause XV is likely a response to the historical failure of port authorities to honor the stipulation. The stipulation may also reflect the fact that when this decree was issued merchants were being held for other

86 87 88 89 90 91

Wansbrough, A Mamlūk commercial treaty 42. Arbel, Venetian Cyprus 126–164. Wansbrough, A Mamlūk commercial treaty 57–8. Or “obligation,” both being derived rather than attested; for the latter see Lane and LanePoole, An Arabic-English lexicon v, 1778, col. 2. Wansbrough, A Mamlūk commercial treaty 63 “strife.” Wansbrough, Venice and Florence.

762

frantz-murphy

merchants in the Ottoman Empire. Sultan Bāyazīd II (r. 886–918/1481–1512) expelled the Venetian Bailo for spying (in 897/1492), imprisoned all Venetians, and auctioned off their goods.92 While this decree has two limited individual liability stipulations, clauses XV and XXXI, the latter merely reiterates the former. ‫سالفة ‖ ان لا يوُ خذ تاجر عن تاجر ٍ ولا يلزم‬ ّ َ ‫ وذكر ان من شروط البنادقة من ايام الملوك ال‬XV ‫ض من غير‬ ٍ ‫بشىء عنه ما لم يكن ضامنا ً‖ او كافلا ًوانه ثم من يتعرض للتجار و يلُزم بعضهم ببع‬ ‫كفالة فالمقر الـكر يم يتقدم امره باجرآ طايفة الفرنتين على ذلك ‖ بانه لا يوخذ تاجر‬ َ ‫‖ ضمان ولا‬ ‫بتاجر ٍ الا ان يكون ضامنا ًاو كافلا ًعملا ًبما تضمنه الشروط المشار اليها‬ It has been mentioned that among the stipulations (shurūṭ)93 of the Venetians since the days of former kings ‖ that one merchant be not liable for another merchant and some of them not be liable for another without ‖ being guarantor or surety. But there are some who oppose the merchants and some of them are liable for others without ‖ there being a guarantee or a surety. So let the honorable Excellency promulgate his order for the position of the Florentine association (ṭāʾifa) against that, ‖ that one merchant be not held for (another) merchant unless he is acting as guarantor or surety in conformity with what is guaranteed in the stated stipulations (shurūṭ). And in clause XXXI: ‫وانه لا يلزم تاجر ٍ بتاجر ٍ الا اذا كان ضامنا ًفى الذ ِمة‬ And a merchant shall not be liable for another merchant unless he was guarantor for liability (dhimma). War between the Ottomans and Venetians began in 904/1499 and continued until 908/1503. Thereafter the Venetian senate avoided committing to an alliance with the Mamluk, Ottoman, or Safavid rulers.

92 93

Davis, Shipping and spying 99. Wansbrough, Venice and Florence 515, “privileges.”

negotiating the last mamluk-venetian commercial decree

763

4.11

913/1507 Mamluk-Venetian Quadrangle (Authorization to Issue a Decree) 22 Jumādā II 913/29 October 1507 issued by Ambassador Taghrī Birdī. Wansbrough details the embassy of Taghrī Birdī, which brought a ‘square,’ i.e., the format specific to an authorization to issue a decree, to Venice; negotiations ensued and led to this document.94 This draft, concluded by Taghrī Birdī, was rejected by Sultan Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī (r. 906–22/1501–16) when Taghrī Birdī returned with it to Cairo.95 A decree on behalf of Venice was not issued. Lines 21–22 follow: ‫وان لا يطالب الاب عن ابنه ولا الاخ عن اخيه الا بمستند شرعي‬ And the father will not be sought for his son nor the brother for his brother, except by a legal authorization (mustanad).96 “Legal authorization,” as noted above, may refer to security in the form of a guarantor or surety. The Italian draft of this treaty includes a clause explicitly precluding Venetian liability for damage suffered by Muslims aboard Venetian vessels.97 According to Roman law, risk passed with ownership.98 4.12 913/1508 Emirate of Bādis–Venetian Treaty and Stipulations99 19 Ramaḍān 913/22 January 1508 concluded by the Amir Abū ʿAlī Manṣūr. According to Leo Africanus, in 907/1500 Bādis100 was a tiny independent emirate of 600 families of fishermen and pirates located on the Mediterranean coast of Morocco between Spanish and Portuguese conquered territory. Wansbrough states that according to the records of the Venetian republic Bādis appears to have been a port of call for provisioning or making repairs on the voyage from Algiers to Malaga, rather than as a destination of Venetian gal-

94 95 96 97 98 99 100

Wansbrough, A Mamlūk ambassador. Ibid. 510–3. Stern, Petitions from the Ayyūbid period 17; Wansbrough, The safe-conduct 219, “process”; Amari, I diplomi arabi 23, “fondamento legale (s’intenda).” Wansbrough, A Mamlūk ambassador 529–30. Thomas, Textbook 289. Wansbrough, A Moroccan amīr’s commercial treaty 454, muʿāqada and shurūṭ; 460, “treaty and articles.” Ibid. Bādis, Moroccan port on the Mediterranean coast.

764

frantz-murphy

leys.101 It may have been used by the trafego galley lines that linked Venice to the Maghrib and Mamluk ports.102 Wansbrough comments on the simplicity of this document, its vernacular style, and states that the text is almost entirely vocalized. Given Leo Africanus’ report that the port was frequented by pirates, stipulating limited individual liability would seem to have been a requisite of the Venetians. Clauses 4–5:103 ‫سل ٍِم د َي ٌْن على ن َصراني ب ُن ْد ُق ِي م َم ّا‬ ْ ِ ‫ الرابع الرابع ان لا َيوُ خ َذ َ احدٌ ب ِذ َن ْب اح ٍَد م ِثل ان يكُونَ ٍلم‬IV ‫ن ذالك لا يكُون‬ ّ َ ‫س فيه أح َدا ً من البن َادِقةَ ِ فإ‬ ْ ُ ‫سالف الاعوام و يرُ يد ُ الم‬ َ ‖ ‫م َض َى م ِن‬ َ ‫سل ِم ُان يحب‬ ُ ‫إن شآء َ الل ّٰه‬ ‖ ‫جفان‬ ْ ‫ن من اجفان ال َن ّصار َي غير أ‬ َ ‫جر ٌ ن َص ْراني ٌ ب ُندفي ٌ في‬ ِ ‫س إذ ج َآء َ تا‬ ٍ ‫جْف‬ ُ ِ ‫ الع َقد ُ الخام‬V ‫ن بعِ َون الل ّٰه‬ ٍ ‫ن م ْأم َنهَ ُ ومغرم َه ُ يكُون على ما في هذه المعُ اَ ق َدة من غير ز يادة ولا نقُ صا‬ ّ َ ‫البنادفة فإ‬ IV. The fourth, the fourth. Let no one be seized for the transgression (dhanb)104 of another as when a Muslim has a debt owed by a Christian105 Venetian for what happened ‖ in previous years and the Muslim wishes to detain one of the Venetians for it, verily that shall not be, God willing. V. The fifth article (ʿaqd).106 If a Christian Venetian merchant comes in a ship from among the ships other than the ships of ‖ Venice, then his place of safety and his customs duty will be [payable] according to what is in this contract (muʿāqada) without increase or decrease, with God’s help. Italian translation: IV. El quarto: che non si possi incolpar uno per l’altro, come quando uno venetian fosse debito a uno Moro del tempo passsato et el Moro vogi tegnir uno altro de venetiani, questo non possi fare. V. El Quinto: se vien niun venetian su ali navili che non sia di venetiani, che sia observa questi pacti, et che la sua angaria sia segondo questi pacti senza accrescer ne sminuir.

101 102 103 104 105 106

Ibid. 468–71. Arbel, The last decades 37, 67. Wansbrough, A Moroccan amīr’s commercial treaty 455. Ibid. 460, “crime.” Literally, “Nazarenes.” Wansbrough, A Moroccan amīr’s commercial treaty 460, “article.”

negotiating the last mamluk-venetian commercial decree

765

IV. The fourth: Someone cannot be held liable for another, as when a Venetian owed a Moor in time past and the Moor wants to hold another of the Venetians, this cannot be done. V. The fifth: If any Venetian comes on other ships that do not belong to the Venetians, these pacts will be observed, and his customs will be according to these pacts without increase or diminution. This unique reference in the Arabic decrees to the Venetians as Christians may reflect the isolation of this tiny port city.107 In the eastern Mediterranean multiple religious confessions were represented in Muslim ruled states. The 923/1517 decree (no. 4.13 below), article 27, states that “the aforementioned Franks are permitted to buy and sell with whomever they choose from among the Muslims, Christians, and Jews.” 4.13 923/1517 Draft of a Mamluk-Venetian Decree 22 Muḥarram 923/2 February 1517, a draft likely prepared by Venetians. Mamluk-Venetian relations were disrupted from 913/1508 to 917/1512. In 914/ 1509 the Mamluk fleet was defeated by the Portuguese at Diu,108 and this seriously impacted the Mamluk’s revenue from Red Sea customs duties.109 Alexandrian customs revenues were earmarked for the defense of the Red Sea and from 915/1510 until 917/1512 virtually the entire Frankish merchant community was incarcerated.110 The proximate cause was an attack launched from Rhodes on the Mamluk fleet, which was transporting timber that had been shipped by the Ottomans from Anatolia, from Ayas in the Gulf of Alexandretta.111 Almost simultaneously a possible Safavid-Venetian alliance against the Mamluks was discovered. In 921/1516 yet another Mamluk fleet was outfitted in the Red Sea, but was diverted by a renegade captain who mounted an unsuccessful attack on Aden.112 From 919/1514 through 921/1515 Venetians ceased all commerce with Egypt as a result of the abuses of Mamluk officials and their insecurity in Mamluk ter-

107 108 109 110 111 112

The Latin copy of a Venetian-Hafsid treaty (see no. 4.4 above) refers to Christians and Saracens. Garcin, The regime 298. Pearson, Merchants and rulers 70. Aubin, La Crise égyptienne. Brummett, The transformation 20; cf. Arbel, Venetian Cyprus 171, relying on Sanuto, who reports the incident as a shipwreck. Newitt, A history 100–1.

766

frantz-murphy

ritories, hence the need for limited individual liability as attested in this draft. Those conditions are addressed in unique stipulations in this decree. A series of ten letters was exchanged between the Ottoman sultan Selīm I and the Mamluk sultan Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī; the first came from the Ottoman sultan as he set out on a campaign against the Safavid shah.113 Selīm I reported the progress of his campaigns, in response to which the Mamluk sultan sent his affectionate greetings to the Ottoman sultan. With the defeat of the Safavids, Shāh Ismāʿīl (r. 907–30/1501–24) warned Qānṣawh that Syria and Egypt would be next. Whether Qānṣawh formed an alliance with Ismāʿīl continues to be debated, but on the grounds that he did, the Ottoman sultan declared war on Qānṣawh fourteen days before the battle of Marj Dābiq northeast of Aleppo (where the Mamluk sultan was defeated) on 25 Rajab 922/24 March 1516. The Ottoman army invaded Egypt on 29 Dhū l-Ḥijja 922/23 January 1517, four weeks before the date of this draft. With the Ottoman defeat of the Safavids in 919/1514, and the subsequent Ottoman conquest of Mamluk Syria, the Venetian consul in Alexandria, Tomaso Venier, negotiated with the Mamluk sultan, Ṭūmān Bāy, from an advantageous position; he argued that Venetian merchants would trade in Beirut, now ruled by the Ottomans, where taxes were lower and merchants were well treated, instead of Alexandria. As noted above, though Ṭūmān may have confirmed the trade agreement, Sanuto does not state that the decree was issued. Perhaps OIM E13789 is based on the draft of the commercial agreement negotiated the previous November by the Venetian consul Tomaso Venier. Whether or not that decree was ever issued by Sultan Ṭūmān Bāy remains to be established. OIM E 13789 is a draft of a decree written in colloquial Arabic in response to a specific Venetian petition as the Venetian senate frantically sought to ally with the victor—the Mamluks or the Ottomans—not knowing who would prevail. This is the kind of document that was apparently written. Al-Qalqashandī, as noted above, reports that decrees were written down as they were being dictated and agreed upon.114 This draft decree addresses the abuses and issues referred to above. There are three clauses in this draft that address limited individual liability. Clause 1 states: ‫ ولا ي ُطلبوا عن غيرهم ولا يطلبوا بما يفعله احد‬٦ ‫ من سا ير الطوايف غير جنسهم وطايفتهم‬٧ 113 114

Kerslake, The correspondence. Stern, Petitions from the Mamlūk period 251.

negotiating the last mamluk-venetian commercial decree

767

6–7. They will not make demands against any of the others, and they will not make demands for the actions of those from other associations, who are not of their nationality and association. Clause 12: ‫ ولا يوُ اخ َذ بالدين الا فاعـلـ}ـيـ{ـه‬٣ ‫ ولا يطالب بالدين الا من هو عليه ا َْو م َم ّن هو ضامنه ولا يوُ خذ احدًا عن احٍد‬٤ 3. As for a debt, no one will be held except who owes it. 4. And no one will be sought for a debt unless from he who owes it or from who guaranteed it. And no one will be held for another. And in clause 30: ‫ولا يطالب الولد عن والده ولا الاب عن ولده ولا الاخ عن ‖ اخيه ما لم يكن ضامنا ولا‬ ‫كفيلا ولا يوخذ منهم شى من بضايعهم ‖ بغير رضاهم وخلاص حقوقهم الشرعيه ممن هى‬ ‫فى جهته على الوجه الشرعى‬ And the son will not be sought for his father, nor the father for his son, nor the brother for ‖ his brother without his being guarantor or surety. And nothing will be taken from them from their merchandise ‖ without their being pleased115 and the clearance116 of their legal rights by the one whom it is on his account according to the legal principle. As noted above, the formula, “not a father for his son and not a son for his father” is attested in six decrees (nos. 4.7–4.9, 4.11, and 4.13) dated between 832/1429 and 923/1517, all of them Mamluk, four of those on behalf of Venice (4.4, 4.5, 4.8, and 4.10); no. 4.9 on behalf of Florence was modeled on no. 4.8 issued on behalf of Venice. Two of these five attestations of “not a father for a son or a son for his father” were issued shortly after, as sources tell us a brother was held for a brother. Decree no. 4.7 dated 832/1429 was the earliest,

115 116

To be pleased, connoting “agreement,” traces back to the second millenium B.C.E., FrantzMurphy, A comparison (III). Clearance, connoting the defense of a claim against challenges to ownership, is a formulation of warranty that traces back to the second millenium BCE, Frantz-Murphy, A comparison (II).

768

frantz-murphy

and no. 4.13 dated 923/1517 was the latest. No. 4.11 dated 913/1507 and no. 4.13 dated 923/1517 add “and not a brother for his brother” to the formula. As stated above, a guarantor and/or surety is explicitly attested in eight of the thirteen stipulations of limited individual liability. Specific incidents involving pirates or corsairs, sultanic or local officials’ abuses, and political conflict or warfare correlate with attested stipulations of limited individual liability only to association members. In each of the thirteen attestations of the stipulation the individual’s liability is explicitly limited to the loss sustained. Individual limited liability, as attested in the draft of what might have become the last Mamluk-Venetian commercial decree (OIM E13789), reflects specific historical incidents rather than chancery models or abstract legal concepts. As such, attestations of limited individual liability indicate the flexibility of mutual commercial relations between Franks and Muslim rulers.

5

Conclusions

The chronology, the absence of a named sultan in the decree, its colloquial Arabic, the decree’s script and spacing, and the fact that its colloquial Arabic is consistent with Mamluk practice, the enumeration of Egyptian but not Syrian ports, and the absence of its record in the Venetian registry all indicate that OIM E13789 was a draft perhaps used to negotiate with the last Mamluk sultan. And while documentary Arabic commercial decrees were appraised as containing a standard array of clauses and considerations—for example, the asserted ubiquitous abolition of collective liability and guarantee and surety—analysis of the Arabic commercial decrees proves that past appraisal to be in need of revision. Examination of the fundamental issue of liability over a 300-year period across the Mediterranean indicates significant variation in the stipulation of both liability and security through guarantee or surety. Moreover, based on the systematic comparison of the stipulation of liability, we can see that the inclusion or omission of those stipulations reflects historical context. The hitherto unremarked continuities in actual legal practice, as opposed to past assertions of a posited break consequent upon Muslim rule require further investigation.

negotiating the last mamluk-venetian commercial decree

figure 25.1

923/1517 Mamluk Decree, part 1 (E13789, Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago) Courtesy Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago

769

770

figure 25.2

frantz-murphy

923/1517 Mamluk Decree, part 2 (E13789, Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago) Courtesy Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago

negotiating the last mamluk-venetian commercial decree

figure 25.3

923/1517 Mamluk Decree, part 3 (E13789, Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago) Courtesy Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago

771

772

figure 25.4

frantz-murphy

923/1517 Mamluk Decree, part 4 (E13789, Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago) Courtesy Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago

negotiating the last mamluk-venetian commercial decree

figure 25.5

923/1517 Mamluk Decree, part 5 (E13789, Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago) Courtesy Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago

773

774

figure 25.6

frantz-murphy

923/1517 Mamluk Decree, part 6 (E13789, Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago) Courtesy Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago

negotiating the last mamluk-venetian commercial decree

figure 25.7

923/1517 Mamluk Decree, part 7 (E13789, Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago) Courtesy Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago

775

776

figure 25.8

frantz-murphy

923/1517 Mamluk Decree, part 8 (E13789, Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago) Courtesy Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago

negotiating the last mamluk-venetian commercial decree

figure 25.9

777

923/1517 Mamluk Decree, part 9 (E13789, Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago) Courtesy Oriental Institute Museum, Chicago

Bibliography Primary Sources (Handwritten) Chicago, OIM, E13789.

Primary Sources (Printed) al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā fī ṣināʿat al-inshāʾ, ed. M.ʿA. al-R. Ibrāhīm, 14 vols., Cairo 1913–9, 21963. Sanuto, I diarii di Marino Sanuto, 58 vols., Venice 1879–1903, repr. Bologne 1969–70.

778

frantz-murphy

Secondary Sources Amari, M., I diplomi arabi del R. Archivio fiorentino, Florence 1863. Apellániz Ruiz de Galarreta, F.J., Banquiers, diplomates et pouvoir sultanien. Une affaire d’épices sous les Mamelouks circassiens, in AI 38 (2004), 285–304. Arbel, B., La République de Venise face à la conquête ottomane de l’État mamelouk, in B. Lellouch and N. Michel (eds.), Conquête ottomane de l’Égypte (1517). Arrière-plan, impact, échos, Leiden and Boston 2013, 113–42. Arbel, B., The last decades of Venice’s trade with the Mamluks: Importations into Egypt and Syria, in MSR 8/2 (2004), 37–86. Arbel, B., Venetian Cyprus and the Muslim Levant 1473–1570, in N. Coureas and J. Riley Smith (eds.), Cyprus and the crusades, Nicosia 1995, 159–85. Aubin, J., La Crise égyptienne de 1510–1512. Venise, Louis XII et le Sultan, in Moyen Orient et Océan Indien VI (1989), 123–50. Brummett, P., Ottoman seapower and Levantine diplomacy in the age of discovery, Albany 1994. Brummett, P., The transformation of Venetian diplomatic policy prior to the conquest of Cairo (1503–1517), in Studies on Ottoman diplomatic history 1 (1987), 11–26. Christ, G., Trading conflicts: Venetian merchants and Mamluk officials in late medieval Alexandria, Leiden 2012. Dozy, R., Supplément aux dictionnaire arabes, 2 vols., Leiden 1881, repr. Beirut 1968. Davis, J.C., Shipping and spying in the early career of a Venetian doge 1496–1502, in Studi veneziani 16 (1974), 97–108. Frantz-Murphy, G., A comparison of the Arabic and earlier Egyptian contract formularies, Part II: Terminology in the Arabic warranty and the idiom of clearing/cleaning, in JNES 44/2 (1985), 99–114. Frantz-Murphy, G., A comparison of Arabic and earlier Egyptian contract formularies, Part III: The idiom of satisfaction, in JNES 47/2 (1988), 105–12. Frantz-Murphy, G., Identity and security in the Mediterranean world ca. AD640– ca. 1517, in Proceedings of the Twenty-Fifth International Congress of Papyrology, Ann Arbor 2007, Ann Arbor 2010, 253–64. Garcin, J., The regime of the Circassian Mamlūks, in C. Petry (ed.), The Cambridge history of Egypt I, Cambridge 1998, 290–317. Goffman, D., Negotiating with the renaissance state: The Ottoman empire and the new diplomacy, in V. Aksan and D. Goffman (eds.), The early modern Ottomans: Remapping the Empire, Cambridge 2007, 61–74. Greene, M., A shared world: Christians and Muslims in the early modern Mediterranean, Princeton 2000. Hanna, N., Artisan entrepreneurs in Cairo and early-modern capitalism (1600–1800), Syracuse 2010. Hanna, N., Making big money in 1600: The life and times of Isma‘il Abu Taqiyya, Egyptian merchant, Syracuse and New York 1998.

negotiating the last mamluk-venetian commercial decree

779

Hartmann, M., Das Privileg Selims 1 für die Venezianer von 1517, in Orientalistische Studien. Fritz Hommel am sechzigsten Geburtstag, 2 vols., Leipzig 1918, ii, 201–22. Hartmann, M., Die Islamisch-Fränkischen Staatsverträge (Kapitulationen), in Zeitschrift für Politik 11 (1919), 1–64. Holt, P.M., Early Mamlūk diplomacy (1260–1290): Treaties of Baybars and Qalāwūn with Christian rulers, Leiden 1993. Holt, P.M., Mamlūk-Frankish diplomatic relations, in Nottingham Mediaeval Studies 32 (1988), 180–95. Holt, P.M., Qalāwūn’s treaty with Genoa in 1290, in Der Islam 57 (1980), 101–8. Holt, P.M., The treaties of the early Mamlūk sultans with the Frankish states, in BSOAS (1980), 67–76. Holt, P.M., Ṭūmān Bāy, in EI2, x, 621–2. İnalcık, H., An outline of Ottoman-Venetian relations, in H.-G. Beck, M. Manoussiacas, and A. Pertusi (eds.), Convegno internazionale di storia della civiltà veneziana, vol. I: Venezia centro di Mediazione tra Oriente e Occidente (secolo XV–XVI), Aspetti e Problemi, Florence 1977, 83–90. İnalcık, H., Imtiyāzāt, in EI2, iii, 1179–89. Irwin, R., The Middle East in the middle ages: The early Mamluk sultanate 1250–1382, Carbondale IL 1986. Kerslake, C.J., The correspondence between Selim I and Ḳānṣūh al-Ġawrī, in Prilozi za orijentalnu filologiju [Revue de philologie orientale] 30 (1980), 219–34. Khan, G., A copy of a decree from the archives of the Fāṭimid chancery in Egypt, in BSOAS 49 (1986), 439–53 and pls. 1 and 2. Lane, E.W. and S. Lane-Poole, An Arabic-English lexicon, 8 vols., repr. Beirut 1968. Mayer, H.E., The crusades, Oxford 1981. Moritz, B., Ein Firman des Sultans Selim I. für die Venezianer vom Jahre 1517, in G. Weil (ed.), Festschrift Eduard Sachau, zum siebzigsten Geburtstage gewidmet von Freunden und Schülern, Berlin 1915, 422–43 and pl. IV. Newitt, M., A history of Portuguese overseas expansion, 1400–1668, London 2005. Northrup, L., The Baḥrī Mamlūks, 1250–1390, in C. Petry (ed.), The Cambridge history of Egypt I, Cambridge 1988, 242–89. Pearson, M., Merchants and rulers in Gujarat: The response to the Portuguese in the sixteenth century, Berkeley 1976. Pedani Fabris, M.P., Dalla frontiera al confine, Rome 2002. Pedani Fabris, M.P., Gli ultimi accordi tra i sultani mamelucchi d’Egitto e la Repubblica di Venezia, in QSA 12 (1994), 49–64. Pozza, M., I trattati con Aleppo 1207–1254, Venice 1990. Predelli, R., I libri commemoriali della Republica di Venezia: Regesti, Venice 1876. Richards, D.S., A Mamlūk emir’s ‘square’ decree, in BSOAS 54 (1991), 63–7, 4 pls. Roughi, R., The making of a Mediterranean emirate: Ifrīqiyā and its Andalusis 1200–1400, Philadelphia 2011.

780

frantz-murphy

Silvestre de Sacy, A.I., Pièces diplomatiques tirées des archives de la république de Gênes, in Notices et extraits des manuscrits de la Bibliothèque Nationale et autre bibliothèques 11 (1827), 33–52. Stern, S.M. (ed.), Documents from Islamic chanceries, Cambridge MA 1965. Stern, S.M., Fāṭimid decrees: Original documents from the Fāṭimid chancery, London 1964. Stern, S.M., Petitions from the Ayyūbid period, in BSOAS 27 (1964), 1–32. Stern, S.M., Petitions from the Mamlūk period (Notes on the Mamlūk documents from Sinai), in BSOAS 29 (1966), 233–76. Tai, E.S., Restitution and the definition of a pirate: The case of Sologrus de Nigro, in MHR 19/2 (2004), 34–70. Tafel, G.L.F. and G.M. Thomas, Urkunden zur älteren Handels- und Staatsgeschichte der Republik Venedig: mit besonderer Beziehung auf Byzanz und die Levante vom neunten bis zum Ausgang des fünfzehnten Jahrhunderts, 3 vols., Vienna 1856–7, repr. Amsterdam 1964. Theunissen, H., Cairo revisited (I): Four documents pertinent to the Ottoman-Venetian treaty of 1517, in Electronic Journal of Oriental Studies 2/7 (1999), 1–29. Theunissen, H., Four Ottoman documents pertinent to the Ottoman Venetian treaty of 1517, in M. Vandamme (ed.), De Turcicis Aliisque Rebus Commentarii Henry Hofman dedicati, Utrech 1992, 79–104. Theunissen, H., Ottoman-Venetian diplomatics: The ‘Ahd-Names: The historical background and the development of a category of political-commercial instruments together with an annotated edition of a corpus of relevant documents, PhD Rijksuniversiteit Utrecht, Utrecht 1991; corrected electronic version in Electronic Journal of Ottoman Studies I/2 (1998), 1–698. Thomas, G.M., and R. Predelli, Diplomatarium veneto-levantinum sive Acta et diplomata res venetas, graecas atque levantis illustrantia, 2 vols., Venice, 1880–99. Thomas, J.A.C., Textbook of Roman law, Amsterdam 1976. Viladrich, M., Jacque al sultan en el ‘Damero maldito.’ Edición y traducción de un tratado diplomático entre los mercaderes catalanes y el sultanato mameluco (1429), in M.T. Ferrer i Mallol and D. Coulon (eds.), Actes del séminaire/seminari organitzat per la Casa de Velázquez (Madrid) i la Institució Milà i Fontanals (CSIC, Barcelona). L’Expansió catalana a la Mediterrània a la Baixa Edat Mitjana (Barcelona, 20 April 1998), Barcelona 1999, 161–205. Viladrich, M., Solving the “accursed riddle,” in al-Masāq 14/1 (2002), 25–31. Wansbrough, J., A Mamlūk ambassador to Venice in 913/1507, in BSOAS 26 (1963), 509– 30. Wansbrough, J., A Mamlūk commercial treaty concluded with the republic of Florence 894/1489, in S.M. Stern (ed.), Documents from Islamic chanceries, Cambridge 1965, 39–79, pls. XX–XXIX.

negotiating the last mamluk-venetian commercial decree

781

Wansbrough, J., A Moroccan amīr’s commercial treaty with Venice of the year 913/1508, in BSOAS 25 (1962), 449–71. Wansbrough, J., Imtiyāzāt, in EI2, iii, 1178–9. Wansbrough, J., The safe-conduct in Muslim chancery practice, in BSOAS 34 (1971), 20– 35, pls. I–VI. Wansbrough, J., Venice and Florence in the Mamlūk commercial privileges, in BSOAS 28 (1965), 483–523, pls. I–VIII. Winter, M., The Ottoman occupation, in C.F. Petry (ed.), The Cambridge history of Egypt I, Cambridge 1998, 490–516.

chapter 26

Three Mamluk Letters Concerning the Florentine Trade in Egypt and Syria: a New Interpretation Alessandro Rizzo

On the basis of recent studies on medieval Arabic chancery documents, I examine some Mamluk documents related to trade between the sultanate and the city of Florence.1 The Mamluk sultanate, and Alexandria in particular, became, in fact, one of the most favored Mediterranean destinations for the mercantile system of galleys established by the Florentine Republic after gaining control of the harbors of Livorno and Porto Pisano in 1421. From this date on Florence reorganized its sea trade with state ships that were made available to private merchants, thanks to the acquisition of these two direct outlets to the sea. The establishment of state-organized galley fleets, in imitation of the model of the Venetian navy, marked the beginning of diplomatic relations between the government of Florence and the Mamluk sultans.2 From the first Florentine diplomatic mission to Cairo (1422) until the last years of the Mamluk regime, the exchanges between the Italian city and the sultanate were regulated and confirmed by documents that are today kept in several collections in Florence.3 In particular, the documents in Arabic related to Florentine trade in the Mamluk realms are kept in the State Archives (ASF) and in the Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana.4 In the context of my doctoral research, I have shed new light on these documents that represent a rare testimony of the diplomatic relations between the 1 To mention only a few recent studies: Bauden, Mamlūk era documentary studies; Bauden, Les Relations; Richards, Mamluk administrative documents; Dekkiche, Le Caire. The following two works do not concern the Mamluk chancery, but shed light on the method of diplomatic analysis of documents in Arabic and provide an updated bibliography: Martínez de Castilla, Documentos; Buresi and El Aallaoui, Gouverner l’ Empire. 2 Catellacci, Diario; Corti, Relazione; Wansbrough, Venice and Florence; Wansbrough, A Mamlūk commercial treaty; Mallett, The Florentine galleys; Sapori, I primi viaggi; Tripodi, Viaggi di ambasciatori. 3 Archivio di Stato di Firenze ( fondi “Signori,” “Provvisioni,” “Riformagioni,” “Atti Pubblici,” “Consoli del Mare,” “Diplomatico, Varie IV”); Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana, Orientali 455 A. 4 ASF, Diplomatico, Varie IV, scrolls A, C, D, E, F, G, H, I; Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana, Orientali 455 A, scrolls A and B.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2019 | doi:10.1163/9789004384637_027

three mamluk letters concerning the florentine trade

783

Mamluk sultanate and the cities/states of medieval Europe.5 Focusing on the evidence in Arabic, I have taken into consideration the studies carried out over the past few decades that define the structure, the formulary, and the form of production of the documents drafted in the chancery of the Mamluk sultanate. The Florentine documents were first studied by Michele Amari (1806–89) and, later, by John Wansbrough (1928–2002). These two scholars made significant contributions to Mamluk diplomatic studies but, in light of our current knowledge of diplomatic studies and history, we now know that they did not exhaust the informative potential of these sources. In some cases the analysis of these sources was affected by errors of reading and misinterpretations that modern historians must now correct. Amari published and translated eight documents in Arabic held at the Florence State Archives in his I diplomi arabi del R. Archivio fiorentino, a work printed in Florence in 1863.6 Wansbrough worked on the translation and the critical study of the Mamluk documents kept at the Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana and published his work in two articles in 1965.7 The documents that I study here have the shape of paper scrolls composed of several sheets pasted one to the other, according to the typical shape of the darj (pl. durūj), “scroll.” The letters (mukātaba, pl. mukātabāt) and other kinds of documents produced by the secretaries of the sultan took this specific shape. The documents kept in Florence are among the few Mamluk mukātabāt preserved to the present day. These missives were issued over the period of time (between 825/1422 and 916/1510) during which, as mentioned above, the city of Florence had intensified its trade with the Mamluk sultanate, as it tried to establish regular shipping lanes on the model of the Venetian muda. In this article I specifically consider three related scrolls that are evidence of the result of a diplomatic mission sent by Florence to the court of Cairo in 902/1497.8 These are three letters (mukātabāt) issued by the sultan’s chancery within a few days of each other: one (henceforth A) is held in Florence at Biblioteca

5 6 7 8

Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion. Amari, I diplomi arabi. Wansbrough, Venice and Florence; Wansbrough, A Mamlūk commercial treaty. For my PhD thesis, I have undertaken a review of all the Florentine scrolls, I have produced new editions and updated translations, together with a critical analysis of these documents that take into account recent research on the diplomacy and trade between Florence and the Mamluk sultanate. In this work, particular attention has been given to extrinsic and intrinsic aspects of the documents, aspects that were neglected at the time of Amari or in the more recent work of Wansbrough.

784

rizzo

Medicea Laurenziana and is dated 25 Jumādā I 902 (29 January 1497);9 the other two are kept at the State Archives of Florence. The first one (henceforth B) of these two is dated 7 Jumādā II 902 (10 February 1497)10 and the second one (henceforth C) is dated 10 Jumādā II 902 (13 February 1497).11 Amari published B and C and correctly interpreted them as two official letters about provisions granted to the Florentines.12 The first one was addressed to the governor of Alexandria and the other one to the authorities of Florence. However, it appears that the author of I diplomi arabi del R. Archivio fiorentino erroneously dated the two documents to the year 901/1496. John Wansbrough published document A, but he interpreted it as a treaty on behalf of the Florentine merchants and did not realize that this darj is in fact a letter addressed to the governor of Damascus. This misinterpretation meant that he did not correctly identify the recipient of the mukātaba and the specific nature of the document. In the following pages, I define the historical circumstances in which these letters were produced, to show that the dating of B and C proposed by Amari was not correct; I do this by reconsidering the nature of document A published by Wansbrough. Historically, the three documents dated to 902/1497 constitute proof that the relations between the city of Florence and the Mamluk sultanate resumed eight years after the last diplomatic contact between the two states (dated to 894/1489), as confirmed in the sources. During the 1480s, relations between the sultanate and Florence intensified significantly, contributing to make the Republic one of the most important interlocutors of the Mamluk Empire. In 889/1484, Qāytbāy (r. 872–901/1468–96) sent a letter to Lorenzo de’ Medici (r. 1469–92), in which he informed the Magnifico of the arrival of the emissary Muḥammad b. Maḥfūz in Cairo from Florence.13 In 892/1487, the same envoy returned to Florence and from there headed to Egypt in the company of the Florentine emissary Luigi della Stufa. These embassies led to the conclusion of the treaty of 6 Dhū l-Ḥijja 894/31 October 1489 which regulated the commercial activities of the Florentines in the lands of the sultan.14 After Lorenzo’s death, nevertheless, diplomatic correspondence between the two powers stopped.

9 10 11 12 13 14

Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana, Orientali 455 A, scroll B. ASF, Diplomatico, Varie IV, scroll C. ASF, Diplomatico, Varie IV, scroll I. Amari, I diplomi arabi 184, 210. Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion i, 113–4; Amari, I diplomi arabi, Appendice 46. Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana, Orientali 455 A, scroll A; Wansbrough, A Mamlūk commercial treaty.

three mamluk letters concerning the florentine trade

785

The political events that followed the ascent of the Magnifico probably did not allow the Florentine authorities to restore contacts with Cairo, at least not immediately. A few years later, the government was able to send an embassy to Egypt. The three documents examined in this contribution represent the only remaining evidence of this mission.

1

The Problem of Dating

Before proceeding to the analysis of the three documents, I focus on the reading of dates mentioned therein. Amari dated B and C respectively to 7 Jumādā II 901 [22 February 1496] and 11 Jumādā II 901 [26 February 1496], thus ascribing the two documents to the preceding year, compared to the year that I believe they were issued.15 The Arabist expressed his uncertainty by adding, next to both dates, a question mark.16 Amari was misled by the fact that both documents appear to have been sent by Sultan Qāytbāy, who died on 28 Dhū l-Qaʿda 901/8 August 1496, i.e., six months before the real date of issuance of these two letters. In fact, B bears Qāytbāy’s ʿalāma (i.e., his signature consisting, in this case, of his name), while in C, he is identified as the sender of the missive. I address the reason these two documents look like they were sent by a ruler no longer in office after I tackle the problem of their dating. Considering the passage of the original Arabic text, where the date is mentioned, the error made by the author of I diplomi arabi consisted in reading the words indicating the year as sanat iḥdā wa-tisʿimiʾa (year 901) instead of the correct sanat ithnatayn wa-tisʿimiʾa (year 902) (see figs. 26.1–26.2). The two dates are indeed not easy to decipher. The problem is the reading of the first word that indicates the unit. In other similar documents issued by the chancery of Cairo, the initial alif always appears at the beginning of the word aḥad/iḥdā (e.g., the date of scroll F;17 see fig. 26.3). In the case of B, this letter is clearly missing and the ductus leaves little doubt that the word must be deciphered thnatayn (‫)ثنتين‬. As for C, the word clearly starts with an alif, but the remainder 15 16

17

Amari, I diplomi arabi 209, 212. Amari thus justifies the interpretation of the data he provides in ibid. 436: “La data, scritta in furia, come l’è quasi sempre ne’ diplomi egiziani, mostra tuttavia certo il numero delle centinaia ch’è nove e che non potrebbe mai leggersi otto. Di più v’ha un altro vocabolo innanzi le centinaia. Or Kaitbai morì il 12 dsu-l-ka’da 901. Dunque è forza leggere anche 901: e confermasi questa lezione con la data un poco più chiara del diploma XLI, ch’è lettera di accompagnamento data agli ambasciatori, quando ritornarono a Firenze col presente trattato.” ASF, Diplomatico, Varie IV, scroll F.

786

rizzo

figure 26.1 The date in document B Courtesy of the State Archives of Florence

figure 26.2 The date in document C Courtesy of the State Archives of Florence figure 26.3 The date in document F Courtesy of the State Archives of Florence

figure 26.4 The date in document A Courtesy of the Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana, Florence

of the letters cannot be identified with iḥdā given that the second letter is not comparable to a ḥāʾ (as in scroll F for instance; see fig. 26.3). Consequently, the word, though written in a cursive way, must be read ithnatayn (‫)اثنتين‬. Obviously, the presence of the Qāytbāy’s ʿalāma at the top of the document was not a sufficient reason to read sanat iḥdā wa-tisʿimiʾa, given that, in the other letter taken into account in the present study (A), where the same signature appears, the decipherment of the date as sanat ithnatayn wa-tisʿimiʾa is not problematic at all and does not give rise to other possible interpretations (see fig. 26.4).

2

The Nature of the Three Letters

I begin with the study of the more recent letter, namely C, since it is useful to contextualize the three documents. In this missive to the authorities of Flo-

three mamluk letters concerning the florentine trade

787

rence, the Mamluk chancery informed the addressees that emissaries of the Tuscan city were received at the court of Cairo. This embassy, according to the letter in question, led the sultan to grant provisions to the Florentine merchants to travel in Mamluk lands for their trading activities. These agreements granted the commercial operators of Florence rights similar to those enjoyed by the Venetians, such as, for instance, authorization to have their own consul in the city of Alexandria.18 The letter also confirms that the Florentine emissaries left Cairo with Ibn Maḥfūẓ, most likely the same emissary who had been in Italy in previous years. This detail testifies to a certain continuity in diplomatic relations between Florence and the Mamluk sultanate in the late ninth/fifteenth century. For the purpose of this study, the most interesting passage of the letter is that in which Sultan Qāytbāy (sic) communicates to the authorities of Florence, referred to with the term mashāyikh, that he ordered the issuance of two letters addressed to the governors of Alexandria and Damascus in order to make them aware of the provisions granted to the Florentines. Clearly, the new provisions in favor of the merchants of Florence had to be brought, as soon as possible, to the attention of the governors who ruled the commercial markets where similar commercial exchanges took place for foreign merchants. The examination of the two other letters (A and B), drawn up by the Mamluk chancery, a few days before the letter to the mashāyikh of Florence, respectively dated 25 Jumādā I 902/29 January 1497 and 7 Jumādā II 902/10 February 1497, leads me to argue that these are precisely the letters addressed to the governors of Damascus and Alexandria that are mentioned in the third letter (C). As stated above, A was discovered by J. Wansbrough, who published it in an article that appeared in 1965.19 Adopting a method of analysis that prevailed at the time he was writing, the American scholar examined the document in detail, although it seems he did not fully grasp its true nature. Wansbrough designated the scroll of the Laurentian Library under the generic term “treaty,” and, for the actual and evident similarities of content, related it to letter B, though he believed that the latter had been issued in 901/1496 (thus following Amari’s reading). More particularly, B is addressed by the sultan to the governor (nāʾib) of Alexandria, and includes a series of provisions that regulate and protect the trade of Florentine merchants, and was dictated by the ruler of Cairo at the request of the Florentine ambassadors.

18 19

Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion ii, 213; Amari, I diplomi arabi 211–2. Wansbrough, Venice and Florence.

788

rizzo

In his article, Wansbrough writes that the drafting of the document he analyzed and the letter addressed to the governor of Alexandria (B), were in fact based on a Venetian-Mamluk “treaty” dating to 846/1442.20 At that time, Venice constituted the main trading partner of the Mamluk sultanate. Hence, it comes as no surprise that the other European mercantile powers, when they made similar requests, referred to the model of the provisions (expressed in decrees) that Cairo had granted the Venetian merchants, in order to benefit from the same provisions.21 Similarly, in regulating the trade of merchants belonging to other foreign powers, the Mamluk government often referred to the rules that governed the exchanges with the Venetians. Copies of the treaties concluded between Venice and Cairo are preserved in Florence. Therefore, starting from such analogies, Wansbrough assumed that documents A and B refer to the agreements of 846/1442 concluded between Sultan Jaqmaq (r. 842–57/1438–53) and the Venetian doge Francesco Foscari (r. 1423–57). He argues, correctly in my point of view, that there are three copies of the version of the treaty in Venetian dialect, two of which are now kept in the State Archives in Florence,22 while the other is housed at the Museo Correr in Venice.23 Amari published the edition of the better preserved copy of the State Archives,24 while in his article Wansbrough presented an edition of the document from the Museo Correr. He then correlated the copy published by Amari with document B and that of the Museo Correr with document A. Relying on the corresponding contents, he demonstrated that the composition of document A was based on the copy found at the Museo Correr, while the draft of letter B was inspired by the document of 1442 preserved in Florence. However, what Wansbrough did not define is the precise nature of the documents in question. Henceforth, I go beyond Wansbrough’s analysis in order to correct his generic definition of the documents as “treaties.” The document dated 23 Jumādā II 846 (29 October 1442), published by Amari, looks like a decree sent to the governor of Alexandria by the sultan to inform him that the Venetian ambassador Andrea Donato had gone to Cairo to request the extension of trade agreements between Venice and the Mamluk sultanate, and to request new provisions for the Venetian merchants. The mandatum, as defined in the first lines, written in Latin, contains a series of provisions whose application was to be ensured by the governor of Alexandria. The chapters devoted to trade in the port of 20 21 22 23 24

Ibid. 483–7. Caselli, Strategies. ASF, Diplomatico, Atti pubblici, Spoglio 3, no. 4. Venice, Museo Correr, Fondo Donà dalle Rose, cod. 217. Amari, I diplomi arabi 347–59.

three mamluk letters concerning the florentine trade

789

Alexandria are followed by provisions relating to the Venetian trade in Damietta and by the letter sent by Sultan Jaqmaq to the Venetian doge Francesco Foscari, through which the sultan notified him of the reception of the Venetian embassy. On the other hand, the document from the Museo Correr, although lacking the heading and the first three clauses, looks like a letter addressed to the governor of Damascus. This is explicitly stated in several points of the same missive.25 In addition, the content of this letter concerns the commercial exchanges of the Venetians in the Syrian territories. Considering the elements that distinguish the two documents of 846/1442, I suggest that they constitute a translation into the Venetian dialect of the letters sent by Sultan Jaqmaq to the governors of Alexandria and Damascus, respectively, to make them aware of the agreements concluded with the ambassador of the Serenissima. At this point, it should be made clear why B presents similarities to the 1442 letter preserved in the Archives of Florence; they are both letters sent by the sultan to the governor of Alexandria. It is probable that when the Florentine emissaries required provisions for the merchants of their city operating in the Egyptian port, they made reference to those long enjoyed by the Venetians, who kept those letters in their archives. Now that the obvious relationship between the other letter of 1442 related to Syrian trade and document A has been demonstrated, I argue that the latter is in fact the letter addressed to the governor of Damascus, to which document C, addressed to the Florentine authorities on 13 February of the same year, refers. In fact, document A presents a series of clauses on the activities of the Florentine merchants in Syria, references that are not contained in the letter to the governor of Alexandria. Therefore, the documents that Wansbrough describes as “treaties,” should rather be considered letters (mukātabāt). Furthermore, the title designating the recipient of the scroll belonging to the Biblioteca Laurenziana, al-Maqarr al-karīm, was in fact at that time reserved for a small number of high ranking addressees,26 among whom was the governor of Damascus, who had governmental responsibilities over the whole Syrian region. The titles were employed according to specific rules described in detail in the Mamluk chancery manuals, such as those of al-Qalqashandī (d. 821/1418)

25

26

Wansbrough, Venice and Florence 490, clause XIII: “Perche nui comandemo a vui Armiraio de Damascho che vui comande chel …”; for another explicit reference, see ibid. 491, Cap. XVIII. Dekkiche, Le Caire 361–6.

790

rizzo

and al-Saḥmāwī (d. 868/1464).27 In fact, the titles are part of a set of elements, intrinsic and extrinsic, such as the size of the scroll or the internal spacing in the document, which varied according to the status of the recipient and the category of the document. Al-Qalqashandī describes these titles as alqāb makāniyya, a formula that refers to the position regarded as a rank.28 Nothing was left to the rhetorical creativity of the chancery’s secretaries, rather every element of the document had a specific function, which the scholar of diplomatics must investigate. For instance, the governor (nāʾib) of Alexandria is addressed as al-Janāb al-ʿālī in the letter kept in the State Archives. This title is inferior, in terms of diplomatic hierarchy, to the one reserved for the Syrian governor. The sultan’s ʿalāma is another element that provides clues about the nature of the recipient. In the Mamluk era, the sultan used different kinds of signatures; these indicate the rank of the recipient and his relationship to the sultan. In the case of our documents, it must be noted that in letter B, to the governor of Alexandria, the ʿalāma consists of the formula wāliduhu, “his father,” while document A presents the expression akhūhu, “his brother,” both are accompanied by the sultan’s name (Qāytbāy). Clearly, the link between the sultan and his representative in Syria was expressed by means of a symbolic relationship of brotherhood, a type of relation that his Alexandrian counterpart did not enjoy.29 Given this, if the absence of the term mukātaba in document B does not come as a surprise, my hypothesis is strengthened: this word was omitted precisely in letters to high ranking officials or sovereigns.30

3

The Exceptional Nature of the ʿalāma

Having examined and determined the true nature of the Florentine scrolls, the reason the three mukātabāt, the two letters to the governors of Damascus and Alexandria (A and B) and the missive addressed to the Florentine authorities (C), appear to have been sent by Sultan Qāytbāy, who had actually died the year before, must still be addressed. The letters to the governors of Egypt and Syria undeniably bear Qāytbāy’s ʿalāma, while the one sent directly to Florence specifies that Qāytbāy is the sender. As we have seen, the presence of the sultan’s 27 28 29 30

Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā v, 438–9, 493–502; al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim i, 515–22. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā v, 493–502. Al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim ii, 646–7. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā vi, 342.

three mamluk letters concerning the florentine trade

figure 26.5

791

A line of text overlapping the sultan’s signature in document B courtesy of the State Archives of Florence

name misled Amari about the dating of the two letters he published in his work on the Florentine documents. If we now consider the two scrolls addressed to the governors of Damascus and Alexandria from a material point of view, it appears that their text was copied by the secretary after the sultan’s ʿalāma had been penned, which is contrary to the diplomatic practice. A close look at the first sheet of both letters demonstrates that the text in dark ink obviously overlaps the signature of the sultan (see fig. 26.5), which is written with a thicker reed pen and pale ink. It goes without saying that this is an exceptional case given that the sultan’s signature had to be applied to the document once its contents were read to him and he agreed with them.31 Chancery authors’ manuals indicate that the sultan’s signature was added to the space reserved for it, i.e., the bayt al-ʿalāma, between the second and the third line, after the basmala.32 However, some exceptions to these rules are reported by the authors of the chancery manuals, even though, to date, we have not identified any document that illustrates these exceptional practices. In a passage of his al-Thaghr al-bāsim, al-Saḥmāwī speaks of the figure of the dawādār, the executive secretary, and describes his functions within the dīwān al-inshāʾ, the chancery. Al-Saḥmāwī states that this official was responsible for the preservation of the material used by the secretaries working in his office, such as the paper and the ink.33 Among the objects placed under his guardianship, as al-Saḥmāwī writes, were what he calls al-ʿalāmāt al-murtajaʿa or al-maqrūṭa, namely the sultan’s signatures prepared by the sultan in advance and then returned (al-murtajaʿa) to the chancery for later use. The term (almaqrūṭa) seems to imply that, in certain cases, the signatures were cut out of the scrolls (i.e., reused?). From this it can be deduced that in some, albeit rare, cases the Mamluk sultan did not sign documents directly, rather he prepared 31 32 33

Dekkiche, Le Caire 428–9. Ibid. 341, 357, 400. Al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim i, 374.

792

rizzo

several samples of his signature corresponding to the various categories. These signatures, executed in advance, could then be glued in the right place in the scroll before the document was drafted, as in the case of documents A and B. Undoubtedly, the two 902/1497 letters kept in Florence are an instrumental example of this practice.

4

A Particular Form of Succession

The question that arises now is why the three letters concerning the trade of the Florentines do not bear the name or the signature of the sultan who was then ruling, i.e., al-Nāṣir Muḥammad b. Qāytbāy (r. 27 Dhū l-Qaʿda 901 to 15 Rabīʿ I 903/7 August 1496 to 31 October 1498), but rather that of his father and predecessor. The three documents of 902/1497 taken into account are linked, as we have seen, to a Florentine diplomatic mission to the court of the sultan to request the renewal of trade agreements previously agreed between Florence and the Mamluk sultanate (894/1489). Between the conclusion of this agreement and the letters of 902/1497, no chancery documents testifying to diplomatic relations between Florence and Cairo have been preserved. It can be assumed that the government of Florence, content with the existing agreements, did not need to renew them until the last months of Qāytbāy’s reign. I would eliminate the possibility that the diplomatic contacts between Florence and the Mamluk sultanate which led to the three letters in question began after Qāytbāy’s death. In fact, between the sultan’s passing away and the issuance of the mukātabāt A, B, and C, six months had elapsed. Considering the duration of other embassies, it is unlikely that between Dhū l-Ḥijja 901/August 1496 and Jumādā I 902/January 1497, the emissary Muḥammad b. Maḥfūz, mentioned in the letter C, went to Florence and returned to Egypt with the Florentine ambassador who obtained the agreements. Therefore, I provide here two examples to compare the duration of the diplomatic missions. The first Florentine ambassadors to the Mamluk sultanate left from Porto Pisano on 22 Rajab 825/12 July 1422 and they returned to Florence on 29 Ṣafar 826/11 February 1423.34 On the occasion of Muḥammad b. Maḥfūẓ’s second embassy to Florence, the emissary arrived in the Tuscan city on 24 Dhū l-Qaʿda 892/11 November 1487.35 Then he left Italy again with Luigi della Stufa, from

34 35

Catellacci, Diario. Rizzo, Le Lys et le Lion i, 121; Meli, Firenze di fronte al mondo islamico.

three mamluk letters concerning the florentine trade

793

Naples, on 20 Rabīʿ II/23 March 1489. However, Luigi obtained the treaty that regulated the commercial activities of the Florentines in the lands of the sultan only on 6 Dhū l-Ḥijja 894/31 October 1489.36 In order to explain the presence of Qāytbāy’s ʿalāma in letters dated after the sultan’s death, with the current state of knowledge, we can only speculate. First, a look at the historical circumstances is necessary. When the sultan passed away, the Mamluk sultanate lost one of its most skilled and longevous rulers. Qāytbāy had managed the sultanate through precarious times. The maintenance of the army of Mamluk soldiers and the advance of the Ottoman military threat had led to its increasing dependency on the precious metals brought by European traders, which they exchanged for spices. Venice far surpassed other nations in the spice trade; to the merchants of this city, stocks of spices were assigned at a fixed price annually by the Mamluk sultanate.37 This agreement became increasingly onerous for the Venetian guild, as in 1489 it was unable to pay for pepper; this caused enormous financial damage to the Mamluk government.38 In this context, the trade with minor— compared to the Venetian—powers should not be underestimated. Unsurprisingly, the agreements with the Florentines concluded in the late ninth/fifteenth century date back to the most difficult years, in economic terms, for the Mamluk sultanate. In the last days of Qāytbāy’s life, the conflicts between the Mamluk amirs who aspired to power, led to the appointment, by the caliph and the chief qāḍīs of the four legal schools, of the sultan’s fourteen-year-old son, al-Nāṣir Muḥammad, who ascended to the throne on 27 Dhū l-Qaʿda 901/7 August 1496, the day before his father’s death.39 Considering this form of succession, and thanks to the analysis carried out by Ulrich Haarmann in a 1998 article,40 we may investigate further the reasons for Qāytbāy’s ʿalāma on the letters written at the beginning of al-Nāṣir Muḥammad’s sultanate. The Mamluk government during the Circassian period almost never followed the standard principles of dynastic transition, which was the most common form of transition in medieval monarchies. In general terms, the hereditary succession was not unusual for the Mamluk regime: in fact, among the fifty sultans who succeeded one another between 648/1250 and 923/1517, twentyfive acceded to the sultanate by hereditary right. In a recent study, Loiseau 36 37 38 39 40

Wansbrough, A Mamlūk commercial treaty. Apellániz Ruiz de Galarreta, Pouvoir et finance. Ibid. 197. Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iii, 323–6; Petry, Twilight of majesty 117. Haarmann, Joseph’s law.

794

rizzo

writes that the leadership of the sultanate had always been subject to the dichotomy between the ruler’s personal will to transfer the throne to his natural descendants and the Mamluks’ refusal to pass military honors (and power) to those who had not been slave soldiers and followed a particular training process.41 The ninth/fifteenth century was the time of the long reigns of sultans Shaykh (815–24/1412–21), Barsbāy (825–41/1422–38), Jaqmaq, Īnāl (857–65/1453–61), Khushqadam (r. 865–72/1461–7), and Qāytbāy. None of them acceded based on hereditary right. This is probably the reason the appointment of al-Nāṣir Muḥammad was perceived as an exceptional practice by contemporaries. Even if Qāytbāy’s son effectively became sultan in 901/1496, the testimonies about this succession differ and contradict one another. In a letter written by the Venetian consul at Alexandria and sent to Marino Sanuto in May 1496, the Venetian official wrote that Sultan Qāytbāy had abdicated in favor of his son; the sender interpreted this decision as an act contrary to their customs, provided that only bought slaves could take power in the eyes of the Mamluks.42 As the Venetian consul explained, Muḥammad was fiol di la zente, i.e., he was part of the awlād al-nās, literally “the people’s sons” (“people” indicating here the elite of the Mamluks ruling the sultanate). As such, they enjoyed a special status, which in fact precluded them from the possibility of taking power. The testimony provided by Marino Sanuto is curious, as compared with other historical accounts, according to which Qāytbāy was worried that the Mamluks opposing him might use his son to replace him.43 Therefore, he imprisoned his son. The historian Ibn Iyās reports that the sultan, during the month of Rajab 900/April 1495, secluded Muḥammad in the barracks of the citadel and from that moment until his death he despised his son.44 Such a testimony is hard to reconcile with the possibility that Qāytbāy abdicated in favor of his son. Whatever the exact circumstances of the succession and Qāytbāy’s agreement with it, we are certain that the transfer of power took place in 901/1496 in a way that was unusual for the ninth/fifteenth century. Formally, in fact, the main sultans during that century had never been part of the awlād al-nās. Whenever they ascended to the throne, they shared two common characteristics: they had held the office of atābak, and they had been responsible for the regency in the name of the preceding sultan’s sons. Although, as we have seen, unlike the earlier Mamluk period, the later sultans did not effectively succeed their fathers. In 1496 the atābak was Timrāz al-Shamsī, who favored Muḥammad’s accession to the throne, and waited for the struggles between the amirs 41 42 43 44

Loiseau, Les Mamelouks 111. Sanuto, I diarii i, 262; Haarmann, Joseph’s law 56–7. Petry, Twilight of majesty 112–3. Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iii 308.

three mamluk letters concerning the florentine trade

795

to subside in order to become sultan himself.45 Nevertheless, Timrāz was soon imprisoned and replaced in the position of atābak by Qānṣawh Khamsumiʾa, who had the same ambitions for power.46 Considering the exceptional nature of Muḥammad’s sultanate, it can be assumed that the powerful Mamluks who actually exercised power in the name of the young ruler were waiting for the appropriate time to replace him. In this case it is possible that these amirs wanted the Florentine authorities to believe that the documents related to the agreements that were initiated during Qāytbāy’s life were produced by the same sultan and not by his temporary successor. It should be also taken into account that Sultan al-Nāṣir Muḥammad’s stability was so precarious that between 28 Jumādā I 902/1 February 1497 and 1 Jumādā II 902/4 February 1497 Qānṣawh Khamsumiʾa succeeded in imprisoning the sovereign and was proclaimed sultan.47 This interregnum happened in the days which elapsed between the drafting of documents A and B. Despite these precarious circumstances, it is known that the sultan used to sign the documents issued by the chancery of Cairo and addressed to the governors of the sultanate. In this regard, it is noteworthy to mention a passage from al-Buṣrawī’s chronicle. He writes that when the news of Qāytbāy’s death reached Damascus, many people reacted in disbelief. But these doubts were dispelled a few days later when Sultan al-Nāṣir Muḥammad sent the administrators of the Syrian capital decrees that bore his own ʿalāma.48 Therefore, we know that the new ruler signed, with his own hand, the decrees sent to Damascus. The precarious state of affairs at the beginning of Muḥammad’s sultanate has been shown. However this does not provide an exhaustive explanation for the presence of Qāytbāy’s signature in documents drafted and issued after his death. Thus, while I have tried to define the exact nature and dating of the three letters, the question of the signature remains open.49

Bibliography Primary Sources (Handwritten) Florence, Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana, Orientali 455 A, scroll A. Florence, Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana, Orientali 455 A, scroll B. 45 46 47 48 49

Petry, Twilight of majesty 116. Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr iii 325. Ibid. iii, 334–7. Al-Buṣrawī, Tārīkh 182–3. For a more in-depth explanation of this account in the framework, see Rizzo, Le Lys et le lion.

796

rizzo

Florence, ASF, Diplomatico, Varie IV, scroll A. Florence, ASF, Diplomatico, Varie IV, scroll C. Florence, ASF, Diplomatico, Varie IV, scroll D. Florence, ASF, Diplomatico, Varie IV, scroll E. Florence, ASF, Diplomatico, Varie IV, scroll F. Florence, ASF, Diplomatico, Varie IV, scroll G. Florence, ASF, Diplomatico, Varie IV, scroll H. Florence, ASF, Diplomatico, Varie IV, scroll I. Florence, ASF, Diplomatico, Atti pubblici, Spoglio 3, no. 4. Venice, Museo Correr, Fondo Donà dalle Rose, MS 217.

Primary Sources (Printed) al-Buṣrawī, Tārīkh al-Buṣrawī. Ṣafaḥāt majhūla min tārīkh Dimashq fī ʿaṣr al-Mamālīk min sanat 871 h. li-ghāyat 904 h., Damascus 1988. Catellacci, D. (ed.), Diario di Felice Brancacci, ambasciatore con Carlo Federighi al Cairo per il Comune di Firenze, in ASI 8 (1881), 157188. Corti, G., Relazione di un viaggio al Soldano d’Egitto e in Terra Santa, ASI CXVI (1958), 247–66. Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr fī waqāʾiʿ al-duhūr, ed. M. Muṣṭafā, 6 vols., Cairo 1960–75. al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā fī ṣināʿat al-inshāʾ, ed. M.ʿA. al-R. Ibrāhīm, 14 vols., Cairo 1913–9, 21963. al-Saḥmāwī, al-Thaghr al-bāsim fī ṣināʿat al-kātib wa-l-kātim, ed. A.M. Anas, 2 vols., Cairo 2009. Sanuto, I diarii di Marino Sanuto, 58 vols., Venice 1879–1903, repr. Bologna 1970.

Secondary Sources Amari, M., I diplomi arabi del R. Archivio fiorentino, Florence 1863. Amari, M., I diplomi arabi del R. Archivio fiorentino, Appendice, Florence 1867. Apellániz Ruiz de Galarreta, F.J., Pouvoir et finance en Méditerranée pré-moderne: le deuxième État mamelouk et le commerce des épices (1382–1517), Barcelona 2009. Bauden, F., Du destin des archives en Islam. Analyse des données et éléments de réponse, in D. Aigle and S. Péquignot (eds.), La Correspondance entre souverains, princes et cités-états: Approches croisées entre l’Orient musulman, l’Occident et Byzance (XIIIe–début XVIe siècle), Turnhout 2013, 27–49. Bauden, F., Due trattati di pace conclusi nel dodicesimo secolo tra Banū Ġāniya, signori delle isole Baleari, e il comune di Genova, in N. Martínez de Castilla (ed.), Documentos y manuscritos árabes del Occidente musulman medieval, Madrid 2010, 33–86. Bauden, F., Les Relations diplomatiques entre les sultans mamlouks circassiens et les autres pouvoirs du Dār al-islām. L’apport du ms. ar. 4440 (BNF, Paris), in AI 41 (2007), 1–29.

three mamluk letters concerning the florentine trade

797

Bauden, F., Mamlūk era documentary studies: The state of the art, in MSR 9/1 (2005), 15–60. Buresi, P. and H. El Aallaoui, Gouverner l’Empire. La nomination des fonctionnaires provinciaux dans l’Empire almohade (Maghreb, 1147–1269). Édition, traduction et présentation de 77 taqdīm-s (“nominations”), Madrid 2014. Caselli, C., Strategies for transcultural trade relations: Florentine attempts to reproduce the Venetian commercial system in the Mamluk Empire (first half of the 15th century), in G. Christ et al. (eds.), Union in separation Diasporic groups and identities in the Eastern Mediterranean (1100–1800), Rome 2015, 267–84. Dekkiche, M., Le Caire, carrefour des ambassades. Étude historique et diplomatique de la correspondance échangée entre les sultans mamlouks circassiens et les souverains timourides et turcomans (Qara Qoyunlu–Qaramanides) au xve s. d’après le ms. ar. 4440 (BnF, Paris), 2 vols., PhD dissertation, University of Liège 2011. Haarmann, U., Joseph’s law—the careers and activities of Mamluk descendants before the Ottoman conquest of Egypt, in T. Philipp and U. Haarmann (eds.), The Mamlūks in Egyptian politics and society, Cambridge 1998, 55–84. Loiseau, J., Les Mamelouks, Paris 2014. Mallett, M.E., The Florentine galleys in the fifteenth century, Oxford 1967. Martínez de Castilla, N. (ed.), Documentos y manuscritos árabes del Occidente musulman medieval, Madrid 2010. Meli, P., Firenze di fronte al mondo islamico. Documenti su due ambasciate (1487– 1489), in Annali di Storia di Firenze 4 (2009), 243–73. Petry, C.F., Twilight of majesty. The reigns of the Mamlūk sultans al-Ashrāf [sic] Qāytbāy and Qānṣūh al-Ghawrī in Egypt, Seattle, WA 1993. Richards, D.S., Mamluk administrative documents from St Catherine’s monastery, Leuven, Paris, and Walpole 2010. Rizzo, A., Le Lys et le Lion: Diplomatie et échanges entre Florence et le sultanat mamelouk (début xve–début xvie s.), 3 vols., PhD dissertation, University of Liège and AixMarseille Université 2017. Sapori, A., I primi viaggi di Levante e di Ponente delle galee fiorentine, in A. Sapori (ed.), Studi di storia economica, vol. III, Florence 1967. Tripodi, C., Viaggi di ambasciatori tra Firenze e Il Cairo nel XV secolo, in Mélanges de l’École française de Rome, Moyen Âge, 122/2 (2010), 411–40. Wansbrough, J., A Mamlūk commercial treaty concluded with the republic of Florence, 894/1489, in S.M. Stern (ed.), Documents from Islamic chanceries, Oxford 1965, 39–79. Wansbrough, J., Venice and Florence in the Mamluk commercial privileges, in BSOAS 28/3 (1965), 483–523.

part 7 Material Culture

∵

chapter 27

Écritoires: objets fonctionnels et symboliques indissociables des cérémonies officielles à l’ époque mamelouke Ludvik Kalus

Les décrets, le courrier officiel ou bien les messages échangés entre les souverains mamelouks et les émissaires des pouvoirs étrangers faisaient l’ objet de grands soins tant sur le plan de leur contenu que sur le plan esthétique. L’ apposition de la signature du sultan était le moment important de ce processus. La solennité des cérémonies de signature ou d’ échange de missive exigeait un encadrement ordonné et parfaitement conçu où rien n’était laissé au hasard. Les écritoires qui contenaient les nécessaires outils d’ écriture et qui faisaient partie de ces cérémonies étaient des objets particulièrement soignés. Mis à part une décoration recherchée exécutée à l’ aide de métaux précieux, il y avait des inscriptions qui jouaient un rôle important : elles mentionnaient le nom et les titres d’un souverain, des vœux qui lui étaient adressés et même des morceaux poétiques qui faisaient allusion, avec la subtilité dont la poétique arabe fait preuve, à sa grandeur et à son autorité. Les écritoires faisaient partie des symboles du pouvoir politique et administratif, par opposition au pouvoir militaire symbolisé par une épée. Mais leur fonction était surtout réelle. Quant aux écritoires sultaniennes, elles étaient portées par les porte-écritoire (dawādār) au moment des séances et tendues au sultan qui signait des décrets, des messages, etc. à l’ aide des calames qu’ elles contenaient. Pour ce qui concerne les écritoires des fonctionnaires supérieurs, leur côté utilitaire est parfaitement évident.

1

Écritoires à l’époque mamelouke1

1.1 Forme Al-Qalqashandī (mort en 821/1418), dans son célèbre traité Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā qui devait servir de guide aux employés de l’administration d’ État et des finances, 1 La présente communication, suscitée par l’ organisateur du colloque, puise dans Kalus et Naffah, Deux écritoires mameloukes, où l’ auteur de ces lignes avait assuré la partie épigraphique.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2019 | doi:10.1163/9789004384637_028

802

kalus

a inclus un important chapitre consacré aux écritoires et aux objets s’ y rattachant2. Il décrit les divers matériaux avec lesquels les écritoires étaient façonnées et note que les secrétaires d’administration et des finances utilisaient des écritoires en cuivre jaune ou en acier et tenaient à ce qu’ elles soient très décorées. Le cuivre est plus employé que l’acier car il est moins onéreux. L’acier n’est utilisé que pour les écritoires des fonctionnaires les plus élevés, comme les vizirs et les gens de leur niveau3. L’auteur note que les écritoires pouvaient avoir une forme allongée avec les deux extrémités arrondies, ou bien rectangulaire. Les fonctionnaires de l’administration choisissent la première forme car ils utilisent, comme support d’écriture, les rouleaux de papier qu’ on ne peut pas normalement mettre à l’intérieur de l’écritoire, à l’ exception des rouleaux de petites tailles. Les écritoires rectangulaires sont employées par les secrétaires des finances, qui mettent à l’intérieur de leur couvercle les feuilles de comptabilité du dīwān, car leur format convient à la taille de l’ écritoire4. Toutes les écritoires de l’époque mamelouke que j’ ai pu répertorier et dont on trouvera plus bas la liste sont de section rectangulaire5. Par leur forme, il faudrait les attribuer aux secrétaires des finances, ce que le matériau ne contredit pas. Mais n’oublions pas que l’ouvrage d’al-Qalqashandī est destiné aux secrétaires de l’administration et des finances et l’auteur passe ainsi sous silence les écritoires des sultans portées par les porte-écritoire (dawādār). 1.2 Organisation de l’espace intérieur des écritoires Al-Qalqashandī décrit également, avec beaucoup de détails, l’ organisation de l’ espace intérieur des écritoires et les différents instruments et matières que les écritoires devaient contenir. Une grande cavité centrale aux angles arrondis occupe les deux tiers de la base; elle est jouxtée par deux orifices circulaires qui la séparent du troisième compartiment en forme de demi-cercle allongé. Dans la grande cavité centrale, on devait placer des calames, un couteau pour couper les calames, des morceaux d’os ou d’ ivoire, éventuellement d’ ébène, plats et oblongs, sur lesquels on applique le calame en roseau déjà taillé pour en couper le bec; une spatule pour remuer l’encre; une alêne (lame d’ acier en

2 3 4 5

Néanmoins, tenant compte que trente ans séparent la publication de l’article et la date du colloque de Liège, certaines données ont pu être mises à jour. Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā. Ibid. ii, 441. Ibid. ii, 442–3. À la même époque, on trouve également des objets analogues dont les extrémités sont arrondies. Il s’ agit là des plumiers, objets plus simples dont l’espace interne n’est pas compartimenté. Nous ne les incluons pas dans notre étude. Voir par exemple Thesaurus nos 22196, 37815, 1103 et 42864.

écritoires: objets fonctionnels et symboliques

803

forme de losange) pour percer le papier; des pinces pour fixer à plat le rouleau de papier; une lavette en tissu pour essuyer l’ encre; un versoir pour verser dans l’encrier de l’eau ordinaire, ou de l’eau de rose; une règle; un coquillage (ou une pierre) avec lequel on polit l’or sur le papier, si l’ on utilise de l’ encre dorée; un aiguisoir pour aiguiser le couteau; parfois, on y ajoute des ciseaux pour couper le papier. Tous ces objets sont posés sur un morceau de tissu étalé à l’intérieur du grand bac, de façon à le protéger car il est généralement décoré. Pour ce qui concerne les deux cavités circulaires, celle du devant reçoit le sable pour sécher l’encre sur le papier tandis que la cavité circulaire adjacente contient une colle, le plus souvent colle d’amidon, qui sert à sceller les messages secrets, en présence du sultan. La cavité semi-circulaire, à droite de l’objet, sert d’ encrier. L’encre n’est pas versée directement dans cet orifice mais dans un encrier en terre ou en verre que celui-ci contient. À l’intérieur de l’encrier, on met un morceau de soie crue, de coton ou de laine pour retenir l’encre pure qui, au moment où l’ on s’ en sert, est diluée dans l’eau versée à l’aide de l’arrosoir6. 1.3 Décor Ces écritoires, le plus souvent en cuivre jaune, possèdent un riche décor géométrique ou floral, parfois même accompangé de figures. Mais dans ce décor, ce sont surtout les inscriptions qui occupent une place prépondérante et ce sont ces inscriptions qui nous permettent d’attribuer un certain nombre d’ écritoires à l’époque mamelouke, voire à des sultans mamelouks. Elles sont exécutées surtout en écriture cursive, certaines étant en écriture coufique qui jouent alors un rôle plutôt décoratif. 1.4 Inscriptions des écritoires de l’époque mamelouke Actuellement, j’ai pu enregistrer une vingtaine d’ écritoires inscrites attribuables à l’époque mamelouke. En général, les inscriptions sont d’ une part ce qu’on appelle des inscriptions souveraines contenant le nom d’ un souverain, le plus souvent d’un sultan. Elles nous sont précieuses pour la datation. D’ autre part, on y trouve des inscriptions poétiques dans lesquelles des termes choisis, souvent à double sens, permettent de bien comprendre le rôle réel ainsi que symbolique de ces objets dont certains sont de véritables objets d’ art. Dans quelques rares cas, les inscriptions souveraines et les inscriptions poétiques sont combinées sur un seul objet.

6 Ibid. ii, 467–78.

804

kalus

Afin de bien pouvoir saisir le sens symbolique des écritoires et de leurs accessoires, profitons de la teneur des inscriptions d’ une écritoire qui se trouve au Musée du Louvre à Paris7 qui est dans ce sens relativement bien explicite8. Notons que cet objet exceptionnel est décoré, à côté des inscriptions, de cavalier-chasseur, de cavalier-fauconnier et d’archers, carquois à la ceinture, ainsi que de canards en vol, mais ce sont les inscriptions qui tiennent la place la plus importante dans le décor. Sur cette écritoire, une inscription nous donne la date de 704 /1304–5. Elle est en caractères cursifs et se développe sur les parois du bac à l’ intérieur de l’ écritoire: (1) Ouvre l’écritoire de la félicité, ses calames font vivre et comblent de bonheur (2) celui qui saisit et lit. Elle a été faite pour le serviteur de Dieu (3) qui espère la miséricorde de son Seigneur et qui implore Sa protection pour le Jour dernier. Elle a été faite (4) en l’année 704 de l’hégire. La date de 704/1304–5 tombe à l’époque du deuxième règne du sultan al-Malik al-Nāṣir Muḥammad b. Qalāwūn, au pouvoir entre 693 et 694/1294–5, puis entre 698 et 708/1299–1309 et surtout entre 709 et 741/1309–40. Cette écritoire a pu appartenir au sultan lui-même, auquel cas l’absence de son nom serait surprenante, ou à quelqu’un très proche du pouvoir. Une autre inscription en écriture cursive, sur l’ à-plat de la face extérieure du couvercle, dit: Écritoire de notre maître. Ses qualités sont jugées parfaites. Sa copie (la copie effectuée grâce à elle) témoigne de la taille de ses calames justes. L’essence de l’Écriture (text. la mère de l’ Écriture) est comptée (se retrouve) parmi ses signes. Le texte de cette inscription a déjà été abondamment commenté9. On va donc se satisfaire ici d’un résumé. C’est l’écritoire créée par Dieu, parfaite par la nature des choses, qui a servi pour écrire tous les événements jusqu’ au Jour 7 Paris, Musée du Louvre, n° 3621 (acquis en 1895) ; auparavant coll. Sorlin de Dorigny. Pour la version arabe de ces textes, voir, ci-dessous, la liste des écritoires de l’époque mamelouke n° 12. 8 Voir Kalus et Naffah, Deux écritoires mameloukes. 9 Ibid. 98–9.

écritoires: objets fonctionnels et symboliques

805

de la Résurrection, avec une grande équité, et le Coran fait partie de cette écriture. Mais l’ambigüité du terme «notre maître» qui, dans notre interprétation, pourrait désigner Dieu, permet d’imaginer le contenu comme s’ adressant à un personnage de ce bas-monde, à un sultan mamelouk, éventuellement à un très haut fonctionnaire. Si on envisage cette éventualité, le texte exprime le fait que c’est avec cette écritoire qu’on écrit les prescriptions sultaniennes, qui sont toujours justes car inspirées de l’essence de l’Écriture. Notons encore, pour les «calames justes», deux possibilités d’interprétation: allant dans le sens de l’ équité ou dans le sens de la beauté de l’écriture10. Une autre inscription en caractères cursifs commence dans le bandeau situé au milieu de la base du bac à l’intérieur de l’écritoire et continue dans le large bandeau rectangulaire occupant la partie centrale de l’ à-plat intérieur du couvercle. La première partie contient un texte prosaïque, la deuxième est un morceau poétique. Mais les deux sont reliées par la conjonction « et » à la fin de la première partie et leur sens se complète mutuellement : Une petite source11 où puise Sa Majesté docte, – et elle a un calame (une flèche) dont le bienfait est commun aux provinces, sans que la première d’entre elles soit différenciée de la septième, et sans que, à l’ instar d’ une métropole, soit atteint son tireur qui ornemente avec lui (calame) [ou qui s’empare d’elle (métropole)] – les métropoles sont les cinq doigts. La première partie de l’inscription s’attache à l’ objet lui-même, c’ est-à-dire à l’écritoire, qui est comparée ici à une source où puise Sa Majesté. Le titre Sa Majesté (al-maqām) est, à l’époque proposée par la date contenue dans l’ inscription suivante, surtout un titre sultanien, et dans ce cas il est d’ habitude accompagné de l’adjectif «noble» (al-sharīf ). Le qualificatif « docte» (alʿālimī) malgré son yāʾ final, doit être considéré comme un titre simple qui, normalement, n’a pas de place déterminée dans la titulature. L’expression «elle a un calame dont le bienfait est commun aux provinces» est une expression connue, utilisée «en parlant d’ un vizir, bon administra10 11

Ibid. 99. À première vue, on a tendance à lire le premier mot de l’inscription – les caractères ne sont pas pourvus de signes diacritiques – ʿizz/puissance, comme c’est le cas d’un très grand nombre d’ inscriptions souveraines de l’ époque mamelouke, d’autant plus qu’un titre, almaqām al-ʿālimī/Sa Majesté docte, se trouve parmi les mots qui suivent. Même pour le deuxième mot, on pourrait, avec la lecture ʿizz/puissance, proposer la lecture yadūmu/il dure, ou en l’ occurrence « qu’ il dure». Le fait que l’ ensemble des deux mots soit suivi par bi-hi nous oblige à proposer de lire ghurr. Ou bien faut-il penser qu’une double lecture est intentionnelle ?

806

kalus

teur» (d’après Kazimirski). Le mot iqlīm (pl. aqālīm), qui signifie à l’ origine le «climat» et auquel s’attache le chiffre sept, est traduit ici par « province» à cause de la suite du texte, où le mot miṣr prend le sens de « métropole», capitale d’une province (iqlīm). On joue ici sur les racines à première vue identiques des mots qalam/calame et aqālīm/provinces. Le calame est comparé à une flèche, la personne qui écrit étant l’archer. En ce qui concerne le deuxième hémistiche du premier distique, il exprime la justice absolue du détenteur de l’ écritoire. Revenons-en à la date de 704/1304–5. Al-Maqrīzī nous apprend qu’ il y eut cette année-là un changement de porte-écritoire (dawādār) du sultan Muḥammad b. Qalāwūn, à la suite d’une altercation entre émirs. Ce poste était occupé, à partir de 693/1293–4, avec une ou plusieurs interruptions, par l’ émir Rukn al-Dīn Baybars al-Manṣūrī, qui devait être remplacé en 704/1304–5 par l’ émir Aydamur. Mais la chronique mentionne à nouveau Rukn al-Dīn Baybars alManṣūrī comme dawādār encore la même année et quelques années après. Mentionnons que Rukn al-Dīn Baybars al-Manṣūrī « était un pieux Musulman, féru d’études théologiques et, outre ses activités militaires et politiques, il trouva le temps d’écrire des ouvrages historiques12 ». Cette piété s’ accorderait bien avec l’esprit des inscriptions sur l’objet. Et l’ écritoire aurait pu être commandée à l’occasion du changement du dawādār. L’objet reste anonyme, mais ses épigraphes font savoir qu’ il appartenait à un grand personnage, peut-être au sultan mamelouk au pouvoir à la date indiquée, comme le suggère le titre al-maqām «Sa Majesté» dans une des inscriptions, ainsi que d’autres allusions. Tout ce qui est écrit par ses calames reflète la justice et suscite la félicité. L’écritoire est même mise en rapport avec l’ original céleste du livre d’où procède la révélation coranique. L’inscription qui contient ce texte, liée à l’humilité avec laquelle est introduit son possesseur qui reste anonyme, témoigne d’une piété et d’une simplicité qui peuvent éventuellement surprendre chez un sultan mamelouk mais qui reflètent les qualités d’ un bon musulman, d’un musulman juste. L’inscription sur une autre écritoire du même type13 souligne de nouveau la justice des édits écrits avec les accessoires qui y sont contenus : Ouvre l’écritoire de félicité, par la supériorité de ton rang, par la hauteur de (ta) condition et par la gloire éternelle.

12 13

EI2, i, 1162. La photographie de cet objet qui fait partie d’ une collection privée a été soumise en 1985 à L. Kalus pour le déchiffrement. Pour la version arabe de ce texte, voir, ci-dessous, la liste des écritoires de l’ époque mamelouke n° 13.

écritoires: objets fonctionnels et symboliques

807

Si en écrivant, tu y puises de l’encre, alors ses calames Sont le poison pour l’ennemi mais conquièrent les grâces. Ainsi, les inscriptions de ces deux écritoires, et notamment de celle du Musée du Louvre, nous donnent une excellente idée sur leur rôle symbolique et sur l’ importance des textes écrits à l’aide des ustensiles que l’ écritoire contenait. D’autres écritoires sont inscrites d’inscriptions analogues mais non déchiffrées entièrement: on en trouvera les références dans le répertoire qui suit.

∵ La période mamelouke nous a laissé une vingtaine d’ écritoires inscrites. Voici leur présentation rapide dans un répertoire où elles sont classées d’ après la nature de leurs inscriptions14.

2

Écritoires inscrites d’inscriptions souveraines attribuables aux sultans de l’époque mamelouke

1

Propriétaire actuel inconnu (en vente chez Bonhams, Londres, le 19 avril 2007) ( figs. 27.1–27.2) Probablement de travail égyptien. Au nom de ʿAlī, un fils du sultan mamelouk Qalāwūn (678–89/1280–90) et son successeur désigné, mort en 1288, avant son père15. – Th 43690: ‫– أ – عّز لمولانا السلطان الملك الصالح العالم العادل علاى الدنيا والدين على بن السلطان‬ ‫الملك المنصور قلاون عّز نصره‬

14

15

Dans ce répertoire, nous ne présentons pas la bibliographie des travaux qui analysent ou présentent d’ une façon plus ou moins approfondie les écritoires en question et leurs inscriptions. Nous indiquons seulement le n° de ou des inscriptions d’une écritoire donnée dans le Thesaurus d’épigraphie islamique que le lecteur peut consulter sur internet (http:// www.epigraphie‑islamique.org). De même, nous n’en présentons pas le texte arabe en entier mais seulement les parties déchiffrées entièrement ou nous donnant au moins une idée sur le contenu, laissant de côtés des extraits trop fragmentaires. L’ensemble des textes peut être également consulté sur internet. Cette écritoire et ses inscriptions m’ont été signalées par Frédéric Bauden, qui a bien voulu me suggérer également plusieurs améliorations dans la lecture du texte de l’écritoire n° 4. Qu’ il en soit remercié !

‫‪808‬‬

‫‪kalus‬‬

‫– ب – عّز لمولانا السلطان الملك الصالح علاى الدنيا والدين على أدام الل ّٰه عّزه‬ ‫– ت – )العز ّ الدائم النصر الغالب بركة و ظفر(‬ ‫‪2‬‬ ‫‪Londres, Victoria and Albert Museum, n° 370–1897‬‬ ‫‪Probablement de travail égyptien. Datée de 702/1302–3, son inscription sou‬‬‫–‪veraine mentionne le sultan rasoulide du Yémen al-Muʾayyad Dāwūd (696‬‬ ‫‪721/1296–1322).‬‬ ‫‪– Th 3873:‬‬ ‫– أ – )‪ (١‬عّز لمولانا السلطان الملك المؤ ي ّد العالم العادل المجاهد المرابط المثاغر هز بر الدنيا‬ ‫والدين داوود )كذا(‬ ‫)‪ (٢‬بن مولانا السلطان )ا(لشهيد )الشهيد(‬ ‫)‪ (٣‬الملك المظّفر ا بن مولانا السلطان الشهيد الملك المنصور عّز نصره‬ ‫)‪ (٤‬عملت فى سنة اثنين وسبعمائة‬ ‫– ب – عّز لمولانا السلطان الملك المؤ ي ّد العالم العادل هز بر الدنيا والدين داؤد بن مولانا‬ ‫السلطان الشهيد الملك المظّفر عّز نصره‬ ‫– ت – )‪ (١‬عّز لمولانا السلطان‬ ‫)‪ (٢‬الملك المؤ ي ّد العالم‬ ‫)‪ (٣‬العادل هز بر الدنيا و‬ ‫)‪ (٤‬الدين داؤد عّز نصره‬ ‫– ث – اذا ما شئت ان تحيا سهله حياة المحيا ‪ //‬ولا تحسد ولا تحقد ولا تغير بالدنيا‬ ‫‪3‬‬ ‫‪Le Caire, Musée d’Art arabe, n° 15132/1–216‬‬ ‫‪Au nom du sultan ayyoubide Abū l-Fidāʾ Ismāʿīl (m. 732/1331). Abū l-Fidāʾ était‬‬ ‫‪un prince syrien mais également historien et géographe, de la famille des‬‬ ‫‪Ayyoubides. Au service des gouverneurs mamelouks, il est devenu par la suite‬‬ ‫‪gouverneur de Hama et, en 720/1320, il a été promu par Muḥammad b. Qalāwūn‬‬ ‫‪au grade de sultan de la famille ayyoubide, branche de Hama.‬‬ ‫‪– Th 7275:‬‬ ‫عّز لمولانا السلطان الملك المؤ ي ّد عماد الدنيا والدين أبى الفداء إسماعيل عّز أنصاره‬

‫‪Ancienne coll. Harari, n° 179 ; acquis en 1945.‬‬

‫‪16‬‬

écritoires: objets fonctionnels et symboliques

809

4 Jérusalem, Musée national d’Israël17 ( figs. 27.3–27.4) Au nom du sultan al-Malik al-Nāṣir Muḥammad b. Qalāwūn. Un morceau poétique non déchiffré d’une façon satisfaisante s’ajoute à cette inscription souveraine qui, elle, se répète en deux variantes. – Th 7504: ‫ الدنيا والدين محم ّد )بن( قلاون‬/ ‫ لناصر العالم العادل ناصر‬/ ‫– أ – عّز لمولانا السلطان الملك ا‬ .+.+.+.+.+.+.+. – ‫– ب‬ ‫– ت – عّز لمولانا السلطان الملك الناصر العالم العامل المجاهد ناصر الدنيا والدين محم ّد بن‬ ‫السلطان الملك المنصور قلاون‬ ‫ سرور‬/ ‫( تصرف ووقع بما تشتهى ففى راحتيك زمام الزمان وفى ذا الدواة‬١) – ‫– ث‬ ‫الصديق وكتب العدو ونيل الامانى عيون الاقا‬ ‫( ليم اقلامها تفجر منها‬٢) ‫ قدم وابق‬/ ‫ منها بنان البيانى‬/ ‫ س الطروس وتخصب‬/ ‫( معين المعانى وتخضب منها عرو‬٣) ‫فى نعمه ما دامت‬ ‫( الاطناف على عصر بانى‬٤) .+.+.+.+. (١) – ‫– ج‬ .+.+.+.+. (٢) .+.+.+.+. – ‫– ح‬ 5 Coll. privée F.R. Martin à Stockholm (vers 1902) Une autre écritoire au nom du même sultan, al-Malik al-Nāṣir Muḥammad b. Qalāwūn18. – Th 36064: Texte non publié. 6 Coll. privée Louis Fould (vers 1861) Une autre écritoire portant une inscription souveraine au nom d’ al-Malik alNāṣir Muḥammad b. Qalāwūn, à côté de deux autres inscriptions non déchiffrées. 17 18

Ancienne coll. Y. Dawud. D’ après Martin, Kupferarbeiten, pl. 4, l’ écritoire est attribuée au sultan «Mohammed anNasîr », fin du xiiie siècle.

810

kalus

– Th 33965: …– ‫– أ‬ …– ‫– ب‬ ‫– ت – عّز لمولانا السلطان الملك الناصر ناصر الدنيا والدين محم ّد ا بن قلاون الصالحى‬ ‫– ث – الملك الناصر‬ 7 Paris, Cabinet des Médailles de la Bibliothèque Nationale19 ( fig. 27.5) Plusieurs inscriptions souveraines au nom du sultan mamelouk al-Malik alKāmil Sayf al-Dīn Shaʿbān I b. al-Nāṣir (746–7/1345–6) dont quelques-unes sont exécutées sous forme circulaire. Même les orifices à l’ intérieur du couvercle sont décorés; la cavité semi-circulaire, à droite, qui sert d’ encrier, contient des formules de vœux al-ʿizz al-dāʾim wa-l-iqbāl « gloire éternelle et bonne fortune». – Th 1456: ‫( عّز لمولانا السلطان الملك الكامل العالم العالم )كذا( العامل‬١) – ‫– أ‬ ‫( عّز لمولانا السلطان الملك الكامل العالم العامل العادل لعا‬٣-٢) ‫( عّز لمولاناالسلطان‬١٢-١) – ‫– ب‬ ‫( عّز لمولانا السلطان‬١) – ‫– ت‬ (‫( المالك )كذا( الكا]مـ[ـل )الكامل‬٢) ‫( سيف الدنيا والدين‬٣) ‫( شعبان بن الناصر‬٤) Pratiquement identique à l’ inscription A (٦-١) – ‫– ث‬ Pratiquement identique à l’ inscription B (٦-١) – ‫– ج‬ ‫– ح – عّز لمولانا السلطان الملك الكامل العالم العامل سيف الدنيا والد]ين[ )الدين( شعبان‬ ‫( عّز لمولانا السلطان الملك الكامل العالم‬١) – ‫– خ‬ ‫( العامل المجاهد المرابط المثاغر المؤ ي ّد المنصور‬٢) ‫( سيف الدنيا والدين شعبان إ بن الملك الناصر محم ّد ]بن[ قلاؤن‬٣)

19

Inventaire des monuments du Moyen Âge et de la Renaissance n° 539.

écritoires: objets fonctionnels et symboliques

811

…‖ (‫– د – العز ّ الدائم والإقبال )كذا( ]الـ[ـشامل )الشامل‬ (‫( العز ّ الدائم والقبال )كذا( الشامل العز ّ الدائم والقبال )كذا( السيامل )كذا‬١) – ‫– ذ‬ ‫]ا[لدائم )الدائم( والقبال )كذا( ا‬ (‫( لشامل )الشامل( ]ا[لعز ّ )العز ّ( الدائم والقبا )كذا‬٢) ‫( ]ا[لعز ّ )العز ّ( الدائم والقبال )كذا( الشامل ]ا[لعز ّ )العز ّ( الدائم و‬١) – ‫– ر‬ (‫( ]الـ[ـعز ّ )العز ّ( الدائم والقبال )كذا( الشا]مل[ )الشامل( والدائم )؟‬٢) ‫– ز – عّز لمولانا السلطان‬ 8 Londres, British Museum Une autre écritoire au nom du sultan mamelouk al-Malik al-Kāmil Sayf al-Dīn Shaʿbān I b. al-Nāṣir (746–7/1345–6)20. – Th 21333: Texte non publié. 9 Le Caire, Musée d’art arabe, n° 04461 Au nom d’al-Manṣūr Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn Muḥammad, sultan mamelouk au pouvoir entre 762/1361 et 764/136321. Cette écritoire est garnie d’ un grand nombre d’inscriptions souveraines, en écriture cursive comme en écriture coufique, et ces inscriptions sont enrichies de nombreux qualificatifs. – Th 829: ‫– أ – عّز لمولانا السلطان المالك الملك العالم العامل الغازى المجاهد المرابط المثاغر المؤ ي ّد‬ ‫المنصور‬ ‫( عّز لمولانا السلطان المالك الملك العالم العامل العادل الغازى المجاهد المرابط‬١) – ‫– ب‬ ‫المثاغر المؤ ي ّد المنصور سلطان الإسلام وا‬ ‫( لمسلمين )المسلمين( محيى العدل فى العالمين مبيد الطغاة‬٢) ‫( والمتمر ّدين قاتل الـكفرة والمشركين منصف المظلومين من الظالمين حامى حوزة الدين‬٣) ‫بن السلطان الملك العالم العامل‬

20

21

Burges Bequest ; acquis en 1881. Dans Migeon, Manuel ii, 78 (fig. 256) et 280, il y a probablement une confusion entre l’ écritoire présentée ici et une autre, également au British Museum, qui est enregistrée sous le no. Th 36866. Il pourrait s’agir du n° 18 de notre liste. Auparavant coll. M. Kyticas ; acquis en 1917.

‫‪812‬‬

‫‪kalus‬‬

‫)‪ (٤‬العادل الغازى المجاهد المرابط‬ ‫– ت – )‪ (١‬عّز لمولانا السلطان المالك الملك العالم العامل العادل الغازى المجا‬ ‫)‪ (٢‬هد )المجاهد( المرابط المثاغر‬ ‫)‪ (٣‬المو ي ّد المظّفر المنصور سلطان الإسلام والمسلمين قاتل الـكفرة والمشركين بن السلطان‬ ‫الملك ا‬ ‫)‪ (٤‬العالم )كذا( العامل‬ ‫– ث – )‪ (١‬عّز لمولانا ]ا[لسلطان )السلطان( الـ‬ ‫)‪ (٢‬الملك )كذا( المنصور العالم‬ ‫– ج – )‪ (١‬عّز لمولانا السلطان المالك الملك المنصور العا‬ ‫)‪ (٢‬لم )العالم( المجاهد المؤ ي ّد المنصور صلاح الدنيا والدين محم ّد‬ ‫)‪ (٣‬لم )كذا( العامل العادل الغازى المجاهد المرابط المثاعر ا‬ ‫)‪ (٤‬لمؤ ي ّد المنصور العالم العامل العادل المجاهد عّز نصره‬ ‫– ح – )‪ (١‬عّز لمولانا السلطان المالك الملك المنصور العالم العامل العادل الغازى‬ ‫)‪ (٢‬المجاهد المرابط المثاغر المؤ ي ّد المظّفر المنصور صلاح الدنيا والدين محم ّد‬ ‫– خ – عّز لمولانا السلطان‬ ‫– د – عّز لمولانا السلطان المالك الملك المنصور العالم العامل‬ ‫– ذ – عّز لمولان السلطان المالك الملك العالم العامل الغازى المجاهد المرابط‬ ‫‪Écritoires inscrites d’inscriptions mentionnant un personnage‬‬ ‫‪autre que le sultan‬‬

‫‪3‬‬

‫‪10‬‬ ‫)‪Coll. privée Ali Pacha Ibrahim (vers 1932‬‬ ‫‪Au nom de Sharaf al-Dīn Ḥusayn b. ʿAlī, milieu du viiie/xive siècle22.‬‬ ‫‪– Th 1565:‬‬ ‫برسم مولانا السي ّد شرف الدين الحسين بن علىّ بن شمس الدين ا بن أمير المؤمنين‬

‫‪Forme non enregistrée.‬‬

‫‪22‬‬

écritoires: objets fonctionnels et symboliques

813

11 Coll. privée Harari23 Inscrite, quatre fois, d’une inscription introduite par mimmā ʿumila bi-rasm suivie du titre de al-janāb al-karīm, d’un grand nombre de qualificatifs et du nom du qāḍī Burhān al-Dīn qui, d’après Gaston Wiet, serait mort vers 801/1398–924. – Th 7230: ‫– أ – مماّ عمل برسم الجناب الـكر يم العالى المولوى المحترمى العضدى الصدرى الرئيسى‬ ‫الأكملى كهف الفقراء والمساكين برهان الدين دامت سعادته‬ ‫– ب – ]مماّ عمل[ برسم الجناب الـكر يم العالى المولوى المحترمى المخدومى العضدى‬ [‫]الصد[ر]ى[ )الصدرى( الرئيسى الأكملى كهف الفقراء والمساكين برهان ]الدين‬ ‫– ت – مماّ عمل برسم الجناب الـكر يم العالى المولوى المحترمى المخدومى العضدى الصدرى‬ ‫الرئيسى الأكملى كهف الفقراء )كذا( والمساكين برهان الدين دامت‬ ‫ل المحترم الأمير )؟( كهف الفقراء والمساكين برهان‬ ّ ‫– ث – مماّ عمل برسم القاضى الأج‬ [‫الدين – ]دعاء‬

4

Écritoires inscrites d’inscriptions poétiques

Alors que les inscriptions souveraines sur les écritoires qui viennent d’ être énumérées nous donnent de précieuses informations à caractère historique, d’autres objets portent des morceaux poétiques dont la teneur suggère le sens symbolique des écritoires. Ces inscriptions ne sont pas toujours bien lisibles, d’autant plus que les photos qui se trouvent ou se trouvaient à ma disposition sont plutôt de mauvaise qualité ou bien la couverture photographique des textes est incomplète. 12 Paris, Musée du Louvre, n° 362125 ( figs. 27.6–27.8) Datée de 704/1304–5, elle provient de l’époque du deuxième règne du sultan al-Malik al-Nāṣir Muḥammad b. Qalāwūn. Cet objet exceptionnel est décoré, à côté des inscriptions, de cavalier-chasseur, de cavalier-fauconnier et d’ archers avec carquois à la ceinture, ainsi que de canards en vol. 23 24 25

Ancienne coll. Kann, puis coll. Harari, n° 176 (en 1932). Personnage identifié dans Wiet, Catalogue général 225: «Ecritoire au nom du kaḍī Burhān al-Dīn, m. vers 801H ». Auparavant coll. Sorlin de Dorigny; acquis en 1895. Pour la traduction française des inscriptions et leur commentaire, voir ci-dessus.

‫‪814‬‬

‫‪kalus‬‬

‫‪– Th 3904:‬‬ ‫– أ – )‪ (١‬دواة مولانا عدت أو‬ ‫)‪ (٢‬صافها )أوصافها( ‖ مكملة شهدت نسختها ‖ قد‬ ‫)‪ (٣‬أقلامها المعدلة ‖ أ‬ ‫)‪ (٤‬مّ )أمّ( الكتاب قد عدت لآيها‬ ‫– ب – » ‪Inscription « décorative‬‬ ‫– ت – » ‪Inscription « décorative‬‬ ‫– ث – )‪ (١‬غّر يدّوم به المقام العالمى و‬ ‫)‪ (٢‬له قلم عّم الأقاليم نفعه *‬ ‫ص منها أّول دون سابع *‬ ‫فما خ ّ‬ ‫فما نبل مثل مصر نابله الذى *‬ ‫به زان )أو ران( والأمصار خمس أصابع‬ ‫– ج – )‪ (١‬افتح دواة سعادة ‖ أقلامـ]ـهـ[ا )أقلامها( تحيى وتسعد‬ ‫)‪ (٢‬من عطا وقرأ ‖ عملت لعبد الل ّه‬ ‫)‪ (٣‬راجى رحمة ر ب ّه ومستجير به ‖ ليوم الآخر عملت فى‬ ‫)‪ (٤‬سنة أر بع وسبعما ‖ ئة من الهجرة‬ ‫‪13‬‬ ‫‪Coll. privée (vers 1985)26‬‬ ‫‪– Th 36878:‬‬ ‫– أ – افتح دواة سعادة بتراقى‬ ‫وعلو مرتبة وعّز باقى‬ ‫اقلامها اذ تستمد مدادها‬ ‫سم العدوى ففاتح الارزاقى‬ ‫– ب – اليمن والعز ّ معز ّ و باق الدوام‬ ‫والدولة القاهرة على اي ّام‬ ‫‪D’ après une photographie soumise à L. Kalus pour le déchiffrement, en 1985. Pour la tra‬‬‫‪duction française de ce texte voir ci-dessus.‬‬

‫‪26‬‬

écritoires: objets fonctionnels et symboliques

815 ‫– ت – عّز ونعم واقبال وتاييد‬ [‫بدوم واقبال… وطول عمر ]؟‬

14 Bologne, Museo Civico di Arte Medioevale27 Écritoire décorée de signes du zodiaque. – Th 3687428: …[‫ والدفع ]؟‬/ . . [‫– أ – افتح دواتك بالعز ّ ]؟‬ . . . . . . / . .‫ ولا… علم‬/ . . . . ‫ اذا عرف‬/ . . . . ‫( اكتب بفرج‬١) – ‫– ب‬ ‫ واقبال‬. . . . ‫( للناس‬٢) . . . . . . . . . . . (٣) . . . . . . . . . . . (٤ ) ‫ والمنايا ا‬. . . . / . . . . . . – ‫– ت‬ ......... – ‫– ث‬ 2a Londres, Victoria and Albert Museum, n° 370–1897 L’ écritoire déjà enregistrée ci-dessus: datée de 702/1302–3, au nom de al-Muʾayyad Dāwūd, sultan rasoulide du Yémen, qui contient également une courte sentence. – Th 3873 (partie poétique): ‫ ولا تحسد ولا تحقد ولا تغير بالدنيا‬// ‫– ث – اذا ما شئت ان تحيا سهله حياة المحيا‬ 4a Jérusalem, Musée National d’Israël ( fig. 27.9) L’ écritoire déjà enregistrée ci-dessus au nom du sultan al-Malik al-Nāṣir Muḥammad b. Qalāwūn. Elle contient un poème très développé où l’ on retrouve le mot dawāt (écritoire). L’ensemble est difficilement lisible et pour pouvoir obtenir une lecture plus complète, il faudrait voir l’ original. – Th 7504 (partie poétique): ‫ سرور‬/ ‫( تصرف ووقع بما تشتهى ففى راحتيك زمام الزمان وفى ذا الدواة‬١) – ‫– ث‬ ‫الصديق وكتب العدو ونيل الامانى عيون الاقا‬ 27 28

Fiche de L.A. Mayer, Institute for Islamic Art à Jérusalem: «Mesopotamia, 13th century». D’ après L. Kalus, à partir d’ une photographie imparfaite, annotée sommairement, vue vers 1980 dans la photothèque de L.A. Mayer, Institute for Islamic Art à Jérusalem.

816

kalus

‫( ليم اقلامها تفجر منها‬٢) ‫ قدم وابق‬/ ‫ منها بنان البيانى‬/ ‫ س الطروس وتخصب‬/ ‫( معين المعانى وتخضب منها عرو‬٣) ‫فى نعمه ما دامت‬ ‫( الاطناف على عصر بانى‬٤) 15 Londres, British Museum29 Écritoire mamelouke de la fin du viie/xiiie (?) siècle, probablement de fabrication syrienne, décorée des planètes et de signes du zodiaque et inscrite de courts morceaux poétiques. – Th 3686630: ....... – ‫– أ‬ ‫– ب – ان ار يد الا الاصلاح ما استطعت وما توفيقي الا بالل ّٰه عليه توكلت‬ ‫ لو قوم الدهر يوم الحسنى قيمة‬/ ‫– ت – انا يتيمة دهرى فا ين مثلى يتيمة‬ ....... – ‫– ث‬ 16 Bagdad, Musée National Écritoire de fabrication égyptienne datable vers 800/1398. – Th 3686431: ‫ الدنيا‬. . . . . . . / ‫– أ – اذا فتحت در ]؟[ العز ّ والنعمى… جعل‬ ‫– ب – المقر ّ العالى المولوى الاميرى المالـكى الملـكى‬ ‫– ت – لا زلت يا مالـكى‬ ‫ لدواة العز ّ والعمر‬. . . . ‫ عّزه‬. . [‫ل ساعت ]؟‬ ّ ‫ فى ك‬. . . . . . . – ‫– ث‬ ‫( سلطان‬١) – ‫– ج‬ ‫( سلطان‬٢)

29 30 31

Sans n° d’ inv. ; don de Sir A.W. Franks, 1884. D’ après L. Kalus, à partir d’ une photographie imparfaite, annotée sommairement, vue vers 1980 dans la photothèque de L.A. Mayer, Institute for Islamic Art à Jérusalem. D’ après L. Kalus, à partir d’ une photographie imparfaite, annotée sommairement, vue vers 1980 dans la photothèque de L.A. Mayer, Institute for Islamic Art à Jérusalem.

817

écritoires: objets fonctionnels et symboliques

17 Londres, Victoria and Albert Museum, n° 8993–1863 Écritoire datable du viiie/xive (?) siècle, attribuable à l’ Égypte. – Th 3685832: ‫( العونى الذخرى‬١) – ‫– أ‬ ‫( الهمامى القو ّامى‬٢) ‫( النظامى المالـكى‬٣) ‫( العالمى العالى‬٤) ....... – ‫– ب‬ ‫ القلم‬. . . . . . . . . . . ‫– ت – الى دواة حىر ]؟[ العزا‬ 18 Londres, Victoria and Albert Museum, n° 371–1897 Écritoire datable vers 700/1300, attribuable à l’Égypte33. – Th 3686234: …‫ الصبر عبادة والخـير دعاه الصبر‬/ ‫( العز ّ فى الطاعة والغنا فى القناعة‬١) – ‫– أ‬ . . . .‫( العجلة‬٢) . . . . . . . . (٣) . . . . . (٤) ......... – ‫– ب‬ ‫ الاوحد‬. . ‫ الواحد الفرد الصمد ان لا تمد ]؟[ حدة قلم فى قطع‬. . . . . – ‫– ت‬ ......... – ‫– ث‬ 19 Bologne, Museo Civico di Arte Medioevale, n° 02129 Écritoire datable vers 648/1250, attribuable à la Syrie. – Th 956335:

32 33 34 35

D’ après L. Kalus, à partir d’ une photographie imparfaite, annotée sommairement, vue vers 1980 dans la photothèque de L.A. Mayer, Institute for Islamic Art à Jérusalem. Fiche de L.A. Mayer, Institute for Islamic Art à Jérusalem: «Egyptian (mamluk) about 1300 ». D’ après L. Kalus, à partir d’ une photographie imparfaite, annotée sommairement, vue vers 1980 dans la photothèque de L.A. Mayer, Institute for Islamic Art à Jérusalem. Baer, The Ruler, 17, attribue le morceau poétique à al-Mutanabbī.

818

kalus

‫ن هذا الشعر فى الشعر ملك‬ ّ ‫إ‬ ‫سار فهو الشمس والدنيا فلك‬

5

Écritoires dont l’inscription reste à déterminer

20 Londres, British Museum, n° 81.8–2.2036 Décorée de bandeaux épigraphiés interrompus par des médaillons habités de canards en vol, attribuée à l’Égypte vers 700–750/1300–50. 21 Coll. privée, Koechlin ( jadis)37 Écritoire inscrite, attribuée à l’époque mamelouke, qui se trouvait jadis dans la collection Koechlin.

figure 27.1

Propriétaire actuel inconnu (vente Bonhams), partie supérieure

figure 27.2

Propriétaire actuel inconnu (vente Bonhams), partie inférieure

36 37

Burges Bequest (renseignement communiqué en 1982 par J.M. Rogers). Photo à la Photothèque de l’ Institut L.A. Mayer, Jérusalem, n° Fi. 171, 18.

écritoires: objets fonctionnels et symboliques

figure 27.3

Jérusalem, National Museum

figure 27.4

Jérusalem, National Museum

figure 27.5

Paris, BnF, taken from REI

819

820

kalus

figure 27.6

Paris, Musée du Louvre, taken from REI

figure 27.7

Paris, Musée du Louvre, taken from REI

écritoires: objets fonctionnels et symboliques

figure 27.8

Paris, Musée du Louvre, taken from REI

821

822

kalus

figure 27.9

Jérusalem, National Museum

Bibliographie Sources al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā fī ṣināʿat al-inshāʾ, ed. M.ʿA. al-R. Ibrāhīm, 14 vols., Cairo 1913–9, 21963.

Références Baer, E., The ruler in cosmic setting: A note on medieval Islamic iconography, in A. Daneshvari (ed.), Essays in Islamic art and architecture in honor of Katharina OttoDorn, Malibu, 1981, i, 13–9, 14 fig. Kalus, L., Deux écritoires mameloukes dans les collections nationales françaises, in RÉI 51 (1983), 89–124, 30 fig. Kalus, L. et Ch. Naffah, Une écritoire mamelouke au musée du Louvre, in La Revue du Louvre et des Musées de France 31/2 (1981), 79–89, 15 fig. Martin, F.R., Kupferarbeiten aus dem Orient, Stockholm 1902. Migeon, G., Manuel d’art musulman, vol. 2: Les Arts plastiques et industriels, Paris 1907, 21927. Thesaurus d’épigraphie islamique, on-line (http://www.epigraphie‑islamique.org), conçu et dirigé par Ludvik Kalus, élaboré par Frédérique Soudan, 13e livraison: Inscriptions de l’Iran et de l’Afghanistan, groupées avec les douze livraisons précédentes (Maghreb, Péninsule d’Arabie, Asie Centrale, Égypte, Monde indien, Afrique subsaharienne, Irak, Occident européen, Asie du Sud-Est, Proche-Orient, Turquie), Fondation Max van Berchem, Genève 2015 (abréviation Th). Wiet, G., Catalogue général du Musée arabe du Caire: Objets en cuivre, Cairo 1932.

chapter 28

Precious Objects for Eminent Guests: the Use of Chinese Ceramics in Mamluk Cairo: the Fustat Ceramic Collection from The Royal Museums of Art and History (Brussels) Valentina Vezzoli

1

Introduction

During the Mamluk period Cairo was an important cultural and commercial center connected with the entire Mediterranean basin (Near East, North Africa, and Europe) and also linked, in particular for economic reasons, with the Far East. Different kinds of goods, and in particular spices, silk, precious stones, and ceramics were transported from China and the Far East, via Yemen and the Red Sea, to Cairo, in order to satisfy the local market and for export to the Mediterranean. In this international frame, Cairo was not merely a gathering and distribution place, but also an important center of consumption, highly responsive to foreign styles coming from the Jazira, Central Asia, Europe and, of course, the Far East. The Mamluk elite, in fact, sought to own and exhibit exotic and ornate objects on important occasions, such as weddings, banquets, and meetings with foreign ambassadors and emissaries. Material evidence from archaeological investigations carried out in Egypt,1 and in particular in Fustat,2 witnesses this intense international trade and pro-

1 Important evidence of the intense trade with the Far East has been collected from Mediterranean coastal sites and particularly in Alexandria (François, Céramiques); other data come from the Sinai region, for instance from the Rāya/al-Ṭūr area (Kawatoko and Shindo, Artefacts), southern Egypt (Qūṣ and Aswan) and obviously from the ports of the Red Sea, Quṣayr, and ʿAydhāb (Mikami, Chinese ceramics). 2 Fustat offers the largest collection of imported items from the Far East, as abundantly attested by the investigations carried out at the site from the beginning of the twentieth century by the Comité de conservation des monuments de l’ art arabe d’Égypte (Bahgat and Massoul, La Céramique) and later by the American Research Center in Egypt (see, for example, Scanlon, Preliminary report; Scanlon, The pits; Scanlon, Mamluk pottery), the Japanese Islamic Archaeological Mission (Kawatoko and Shindo, Artifacts) and the Institut Français d’ Archéologie Orientale (Gayraud, D’ est en ouest).

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2019 | doi:10.1163/9789004384637_029

824

vezzoli

vides interesting data on the wide range of ceramics traded in the Islamic Levant, the vast majority of which were produced in China and Southeast Asia. This commerce was also richly described in contemporary written sources (reports of historians, texts of foreign emissaries, chronicles of economic activities, commercial documents, etc.), which provide further information concerning the economic value and the social prestige of these items in medieval Mediterranean society. In this paper, I combine the ceramic evidence from archaeological investigations in Fustat with the picture proposed by medieval reports and texts in order to offer a view of the wealthy Egyptian upper class during the Mamluk period. The primary source material presented in this contribution is a group of objects, partly unedited, preserved in the Royal Museums of Art and History of Brussels.3 This material, although fragmented and scant, provides a general picture of the Chinese ceramics imported to Egypt, which, incidentally, also inspired the local ceramic production.

2

The Material Evidence

2.1 The Archaeological Documentation from Egypt Most of the information concerning the history of ceramic production that was widespread in Egypt during the Islamic period, including imports from China, comes from the archaeological excavations carried out in Fustat4 from the beginning of the twentieth century. Based on the study of this site, we know that the first confirmed Chinese products in Egypt are polychrome glazed wares (green, brown, and yellow) and blue-green glazed wares of the Tang dynasty (618–907), imported during the ninth century from the region of Zhejiang (southeastern China).5 The number of imports increased in the following century when Yue celadons,6 blue3 I would like to thank Nathalie Vandeperre (curator of the Chinese collection at the Royal Museums of Art and History of Brussels) for her help in the study of Chinese wares from Fustat and also the former curator of the Islamic section, Mieke van Raemdonck, who proposed that I work on this material. 4 The site of Fustat is located to the south of the modern city of Cairo, on the eastern bank of the Nile. It was the first Islamic capital of Egypt and quickly developed into one of the most important industrial and commercial centers of the region (see Jomier, Fusṭāṭ). 5 Mikami, Chinese ceramics 10; Sasaki, Trade patterns; Northedge, Thoughts 207–14; Watson, Ceramics 36–8, 167–81. 6 This high-quality production is characterized by bowls and dishes decorated with incised patterns or in relief: floral compositions, dragons or birds are particularly common. The glaze is jade green.

precious objects for eminent guests

825

green wares from southern China, and white wares also started to be traded. The Chinese production of white wares, usually associated with a fine incised decoration covered by a bright or creamy glaze, was particularly popular during the eleventh century, when imports increased exponentially.7 The Egyptian market imported especially Qingpai wares8 from the Jingdezhen region, but some examples of Ding wares (creamy white wares) from northern China also reached the country.9 In this period, Longquan celadons10 (from Zhejiang region) started to be intensively imported in the area too. It was especially during the Mamluk period (mid-seventh to early tenth/ mid-thirteenth to early sixteenth century) that Fustat received a large number of Chinese vessels. In fact, from the thirteenth century onward, the region of Longquan began to mass produce a significant amount of pottery; this was primarily exported to the Near East. The most important product on the Egyptian market at that time were jade green glazed wares (the so-called “celadons”).11 A rich variety of shapes and decorations (incised or molded) were verified in Egypt: in the first phase, fine bowls with a sober decoration were particularly appreciated and later (Yuan dynasty production, 1260–1368), larger bowls, frequently decorated with a molded medallion inside the base, prevailed. Though celadons were in high demand, white wares also continued to reach the country. The Mamluk period was also marked by the appearance on the international market (in particular from the mid to late eighth/fourteenth century) of a new group of objects finely decorated with blue painting on a white background. The so-called blue and white ware was of extremely high quality and immediately became one of the most appreciated Chinese products in Egyptian society.12 7 8

9 10 11 12

Sasaki, Trade patterns 324. Qingpai (blue white) wares, also known as Yingpai (shadow blue), are characterized by a hard body, fired in a reduction atmosphere, and covered with a bright glaze. This type was produced in the region of Jingdezhen and was exported to the Near East during the fifth/eleventh and sixth/twelfth centuries in abundance. The shipwreck found in Sinan (close to the coast of North Korea) brought to light an important shipment of 6,000 ceramics (around 2,000 Qingpai wares) wrapped in wood boxes with the name of the transportation company (Choi, Excavation 261; François, Céramiques 145); this confirmed the extensive production of Chinese workshops in that period. Ding wares, unlike Qingpai productions, were fired in oxidant atmosphere; the result was a creamy or ivory glazed surface. Both productions were frequently manufactured in a mold. Bowls with incised or carved decoration were particularly appreciated. This term has been used by European specialists to identify this Chinese production, which is characterized by a very hard grey body and a jade green glaze. Several elements confirm this hypothesis: first, contemporary historians and travelers fre-

826

vezzoli

As confirmed by written evidence, Chinese imports were particularly expensive and the damage of such stocks of vessels were harshly punished (for instance, Ibn Baṭṭūṭa [d. 770/1369–70 or 779/1377] mentioned the unlucky situation of a servant who broke a stock of porcelains and was obliged to appeal to a charitable endowment in Damascus in order to refund it);13 this was probably one of the reasons archaeological finds sometimes show small holes, very likely used for restoring broken objects.14 Even if the Mamluk elite were interested recipients of these beautiful and expensive products, obviously, not all the ceramic productions of China reached its table. In fact, it now appears that just a few specialized workshops produced for the export market; these centers were usually located in the southeastern region of the country and had easy access through waterways to main ports that allowed the long-distance distribution of goods.15 On the basis of a statistical study carried out by the Japanese archaeological mission at Fustat,16 it emerges that Chinese imports constituted 1.3 percent of the glazed assemblage recovered on the site. Some years before, at the beginning of the 1970s, Scanlon, of the American archaeological mission, reported that the percentage of Chinese vessels on the site was around 0.6 percent.17 For both studies, it appears that the majority of this material came from the more recent (upper) archeological layers, and can be dated between the late sixth/twelfth and the eighth/fourteenth century. Archaeological evidence also shows that most of the imported objects were bowls of various dimensions, suggesting that their primary use was as tableware. Small jugs and bottles, probably utilized to transport perfumes and other precious liquids, were not very common, but were confirmed from the field. It should also be noted that in Fustat the presence of Chinese ceramics influenced the activity of local potters, who started to experiment with new ceramic

13 14 15

16 17

quently mention the high social and economic value of these objects and, second, archaeological evidence affirms that Chinese wares were well distributed in the region. Ibn Baṭṭūṭa, Tuḥfat al-nuẓẓār i, 238–9, as mentioned in Milwright, Pottery 513. In order to put a broken bowl back together, small holes were created and through these a metal string was passed to reconnect the pieces. Since the Sung period (960–1126), several maritime ports developed in order to facilitate the massive trade with the Near East. They were located in the Zhejiang and Fujian regions (the ports of Wenzhou, Fuzhou, and Quanzhou) and they were connected with the industrial inland through a well-developed system of fluvial waterways (François, Céramiques 173–6). Sasaki, Trade patterns 325. In 1988 Tsugio Mikami published a report mentioning the number of Chinese ceramic shards from Fustat; he estimated these to be around 17,000 pieces (Mikami, Chinese ceramics 9).

precious objects for eminent guests

827

types in order to achieve similar results. This happened at several points in the history of Islamic ceramic production;18 in the case of the Mamluk period, local productions inspired by Chinese artifacts (celadons and blue and white wares) reached a high level of quality and a wide range of distribution. Though Fustat/Cairo was the main recipient of Chinese products, it was not the only one in Egypt. In fact, other important centers were beneficiaries of these items and these areas have contributed to our reconstruction of the presence of imported Chinese wares in the region and to the nature of the secular bond between the Mediterranean and the Far East during the Islamic period. The archaeological evidence shows that important finds were identified in other settlements of northern Egypt, and in particular in Alexandria,19 but also in the region of Sinai (Rāya/al-Ṭūr) and to the south, in the Nubian area (Aswan and Qūṣ). Naturally, this material was frequently recovered in the main Red Sea ports where it arrived from Yemen,20 such as ʿAydhāb, Quṣayr al-Qadīm, and alṬūr, which received imports and sent them on to Cairo, as demonstrated also by written evidence, especially trade documents.21 ʿAydhāb was the principal port in Egypt for the trade and redistribution of these ceramics, which were first sent to Aswan and Qūṣ by camel caravans and then loaded onto ships going north on the Nile. Survey investigations conducted on the site, together with the documentation of written sources, shows that from the fifth/eleventh to the eighth/fourteenth century this center was closely involved in the commerce of ceramics (and other goods) with the Far East. The presence of Chinese shards at the site is even larger than that of local productions, in particular those such as glazed wares.22 Although the presence of Chinese ceramics is attested in the entire region, it is important to note that, at this stage of the archaeological research, it appears that earlier imports, dated to the third/ninth and early fourth/tenth century, reached the center of Fustat exclusively and are not documented elsewhere.23

18 19 20

21

22 23

Since the third/ninth century the presence of Chinese vessels in the Near East seems to have had a significant impact on local ceramic production (Watson, Ceramics 45–6). François, Céramiques 143–6 and 173–6. Chinese porcelain, which was regularly offered to the rulers of Venice and Florence, came in large quantities from Yemen, and was part of the tribute the Rasulids delivered to the Mamluks. See Behrens-Abouseif, Practising diplomacy 137. Hundreds of fragmented paper documents were found in Quṣayr; these reveal the shipping activities of local families on the Red Sea (Guo, Commerce; Kaplony, Fünfundzwanzig). Mikami, Chinese ceramics 14. Ibid. 10. In Alexandria, the first Chinese ceramics arrived only from the late fourth/tenth

828

vezzoli

2.2 The Collection of the Royal Museums of Art and History of Brussels The Chinese ceramics presented here belong to a heterogeneous assemblage of ceramic shards collected on the mounds of Fustat at the beginning of the twentieth century. Part of this material was offered to the Museums by the Belgian scholar of Islamic studies, Armand Abel (1903–73),24 who worked for a limited period on the site during the 1920s; another group of objects was donated by the Musée Arabe du Caire in 1923;25 and the rest of the collection was purchased on the antique market.26 This assemblage numbers about 4,000 shards and essentially includes glazed ware productions of the Islamic period dated from the late second/ eighth century to the tenth/sixteenth century. Among this material, it was possible to identify eleven fragments of imported Chinese wares, which are evidence of the existence of economic relations between Egypt and the Far East at least from the third/ninth century. The collection of objects that reached Fustat/Cairo during the Mamluk period is exiguous (five shards dating between the seventh/thirteenth and the early tenth/sixteenth century) and not representative of the real percentage of Chinese imports on the site. Nevertheless, it provides a picture of the main products documented in Fustat (celadons and blue and white wares) and an insight into the source of inspiration that brought new trends to local production. 2.2.1 Celadons The term celadon refers to Chinese wares characterized by a fine and hard grey body, fired at a very high temperature (around 1,300° C) and in a reduction atmosphere, covered by a jade green glaze.27

24

25 26 27

century, not earlier. François documents some white wares and celadons from northern China (François, Céramiques 143). Professor of Arabic and Islamic studies at the universities of Brussels and Ghent and at the Institut des Hautes Études de Belgique. During the 1920s Abel spent a few years in Egypt, where he collaborated with the director of the Musée Arabe du Caire, Gaston Wiet, to classify part of the ceramic collection from Fustat. At this time, he became interested in the Islamic world and decided to focus his research on the study of ceramics; he published an important volume on Ghaybī, a potter of the Mamluk period (Abel, Ġaibī) and a series of articles presenting the new Islamic collection of the Royal Museums of Brussels (Abel, Les Céramiques). Around fifty fragments. For a more detailed description of the history of the Fustat collection at the Royal Museums of Art and History of Brussels see Vezzoli, The Fustat ceramic collection. The color of the glaze depends on the presence of iron oxide in the mixture.

precious objects for eminent guests

829

These items were mainly produced in the workshops of Longquan, in the province of Zhejiang (southeastern China), which was an active industrial area from the period of the North Sung dynasty (960–1126) and reached its apogee under the South Sung rulers (1127–1279). The production and exportation of the material continued also in later periods, especially under the Yuan dynasty (1260–1368), when these items started to be intensively exported to the Islamic Near East. It was, in fact, during the seventh/thirteenth and eighth/fourteenth centuries that this production became particularly popular in the Islamic world, as attested by archaeological finds from Egypt and Syria. As a consequence of the high demand from the West, Chinese workshops were forced to increase their production considerably and to reinforce their industry and their system of distribution. The ceramic repertoire documented in Egypt is characterized by fine bowls and dishes of various dimensions, decorated with sober designs (lotus petals, vegetal patterns or fishes); during the seventh/thirteenth and eighth/fourteenth century, large-sized bowls, frequently with a flower appliqué in the center of the bottom, invaded the market. The Royal Museums own two ceramic fragments belonging to this group and found on the site of Fustat: IS.F.4388 (fig. 28.1: 1): the rim of a hemispherical bowl (diam. 18 cm) characterized by very thin molded wavy walls. The jade green glaze is carefully applied on the body, which is grey and very hard. This object is associated with the South Sung productions of the thirteenth century.28 The shard was acquired by the Museums on the Parisian antique market in 1913. IS.F.1214 (fig. 28.1: 2): fragment of the base of a large bowl (diam. 19cm). The fabric is hard and light grey in color. Probably Yuan dynasty, thirteenth– fourteenth century. This object was endowed by the Belgian scholar Armand Abel to the Royal Museums. 2.2.2 Blue and White Ware Relatively later, another group of Chinese artifacts drew the attention of the Mamluk elite and had a significant impact on the Egyptian market: Blue and white Chinese porcelains of Yuan (1260–1368) and Ming dynasty (1368–1644) that began to be imported to Egypt during the eighth/fourteenth century. This

28

An image of the object with a short description has been published (Maillard, Les Tessons fig. 22a).

830

vezzoli

group is not as common as the group of celadons in archaeological contexts, probably because it was more expensive (written sources, in fact, report that one blue and white vessel was the same price as three celadons).29 This ware is characterized by a hard and compact white body, made of kaolinic clay fired at high temperature (around 1,300° C), and decorated with blue painting under a layer of transparent colorless glaze. Designs are finely executed with a cobalt blue pigment, an expensive and rare product that was initially imported from Iran.30 The decorative and morphological repertoire can vary considerably, depending on the production. Yuan wares are usually large objects:31 dishes and vessels (diam. 40 to 46 cm) characterized by a rich and diversified decoration (dragons, phoenix, flower compositions) were probably produced in a variety of workshops.32 Even though less common, smaller shapes have been documented (bowls, jugs, and bottles) as well. Ming production was characterized by a higher quality of manufacture, and the number of products to be exported was probably subject to restriction;33 it is, in fact, quite rare in archaeological contexts. Large dishes and bowls were decorated with floral or vegetal designs, usually better organized and less dense than in the case of Yuan production. At this time, potters started to use a local cobalt pigment and the shade of blue decoration consequently changed. Shapes are quite varied, and include not only dishes and bowls, but also pitchers and small bottles or flasks. The repertoire of items produced for a foreign market (notably an Islamic market) do not seem to have been re-adapted, as they usually follow the typical decorations of Chinese production. Blue and white wares were manufactured in the kilns of the Jingdezhen region, in southeastern China and from there they were exported by sea and land34 toward the West. The materials of this production were of exceptional 29 30

31

32 33

34

Desroches, Les Porcelaines 309. It has also been suggested that Persian merchants influenced the beginning of the blue and white production, since they brought with them Persian ceramics with underpainted blue decoration. According to the historian Abū l-Qāsim (eighth/fourteenth century), the Persian cobalt blue was extracted in the region of Kāshān, in Iran (Carswell, Blue and white 11). The introduction of large recipients, which differed from the production of Sung period (960–1279), was probably a reflection of a change in culinary habits. After the Mongol invasion, in fact, there was more need to consume food in communal dishes. Krahl, Chinese ceramics 163. During the early Ming dynasty, we note that the new ruling class discouraged foreign trade and limited the production and distribution of blue and white porcelain to the Islamic world (ibid.). Recent archaeological investigations carried out in China and Central Asia prove that blue

precious objects for eminent guests

831

quality (beautiful, hard, and durable) and quickly became one of the most appreciated objects at the Egyptian and European courts, perfect for use on special occasions and as diplomatic gifts. The collection of blue and white shards from Fustat at the Royal Museums is exiguous: IS.F.4396 (fig. 28.1: 3): a base of a small bowl with ring foot applied after modeling (diam. 9cm). The decoration is painted in blue under a transparent colorless glaze: it has floral motifs on the inside, organized in a central medallion; the outside is covered by small trefoil leaves.35 The body is hard and white. Late eighth/fourteenth to the ninth/fifteenth century. The shard was acquired by the Museums on the Parisian antique market in 1913. IS.F.5617 (fig. 28.1: 4): base of a small bowl or cup with a ring foot (diam. 6 cm). The decoration is painted in blue under a transparent, perfectly applied colorless glaze: it is a central medallion with a flower bouquet and small leaves on the outside. The body is hard and white/grey. Late eighth/fourteenth to the ninth/fifteenth century. The shard was acquired by the Museums on the Parisian antique market in 1920. IS.F.1213 (fig. 28.1: 5): base of a bowl with thick walls (diam. 9 cm). The decoration of the inner surface is not precise; the cobalt blue is perfunctorily and thickly applied and has become almost black. The body is white and hard. Ninth/fifteenth century. This object was endowed by the Belgian scholar Armand Abel to the Royal Museums. 2.3 Influences of Chinese Imports on Local Ceramic Production The material and textual evidence shows that Chinese ceramics were particularly appreciated by the Mamluk elite, who employed them at special events with members of the court or with foreign ambassadors and emissaries. Nevertheless, the value and popularity of these items also reached and attracted persons from the middle class, and this encouraged the imitation of these objects by the very productive Egyptian ceramic industry. In fact, during the Mamluk period, potters started to manufacture new types of wares by employing tradi-

35

and white wares were also exported by land, following the trade axes of Central Asia. A large amount of these imports was traded to the Islamic world by sea, as with other Chinese productions exported from the time of the Tang period (Carswell, Blue and white 154). Maillard, Les Tessons fig. 24b.

832

vezzoli

tional techniques (siliceous body and underglaze painting),36 inspired by the rich repertoire of Chinese items. This new production was made for a larger public who sought to possess these objects but could not afford the price of original porcelain vases. This material was definitely influenced by the morphological and decorative repertoire of Chinese imports, but it also acquired new peculiarities and developed independently, reaching an original and innovative nature. Egyptian productions never reached the quality of the Chinese originals, in part, because of the lack of raw materials such as kaolinic clays; the ceramic body, whitish to yellow, is made of ground quartz mixed together with a small amount of clay and is soft and porous. The surface is covered by a greenish glaze (for celadon imitations)37 or decorated with blue painting under a transparent colorless glaze (for blue and white imitations). Celadon, which was without doubt the most popular import from China,38 as a result also became the most common type of Egyptian imitation, as is confirmed by the archaeological evidence.39 This material, produced in Egyptian workshops from the eighth/fourteenth century, imitated the decoration and the morphology of the Chinese repertoire: bowls with wavy walls and fishes made of clay and applied (fig. 28.2: 1–2) or finely decorated with abstract or floral patterns (fig. 28.2: 5) and large bowls with applied medallion (fig. 28.2: 4).40 The quality of these artifacts varied considerably; the glaze could be very thick and coarsely applied, though finer examples also existed. The blue and white ware was a specialized and successful production that was inspired by the repertoire of Chinese wares. These items imitated, and sometimes reinterpreted, the decoration of porcelains: pomegranates (fig. 28.2: 6), lotus flowers (fig. 28.2: 7–8), and bouquets (fig. 28.2: 10–11). Animal figures were more rare, and usually not directly inspired by the Chinese repertoire. This seems to be a highly specialized industry, mostly associated with specific workshops or artists. The base, in fact, usually bears a signature, which represented an affiliation to a qualified production. The most common name appearing on the Fustat material preserved at the Royal Museums of Brussels, is that of Ghaybī (fig. 28.2: 9), probably a foreign artist who also worked in Syria;41 36

37 38 39 40 41

The use of a siliceous body, which created a white base adaptable to decoration, was already in use in the Islamic world, at least from the late fifth/eleventh century; from the Ayyubid period underglaze painting was often applied to adorn siliceous wares. The glaze can be transparent or opaque. Watson, Ceramics 418. Scanlon, The Fustat mound 225. This shape was typical of eighth-/fourteenth-century productions. His name also appeared on some architectural tiles that decorate the complex of Ghars al-

precious objects for eminent guests

833

but the list of identifications is quite long and varied, and included local potters (for example, ‫سار الفاخورى المصرى‬, Sār [?], al-fākhūrī al-miṣrī)42 or foreign potters (‫عجمي‬, ʿAjamī, i.e., the foreigner; ‫عمل الشمي‬, ʿamal al-Shamī (sic), work of the man from Syria; ‫عمل الهرمزي‬, ʿamal al-Hurmuzī, work of the man from Hormuz [fig. 28.2: 7]), and abbreviations (fig. 28.2: 8), symbols or blazons. Once again, the quality varied significantly, but this production was usually finer than that of celadon imitations. The decoration was very well executed and is evidence of the high level reached by artists working in these workshops. The Egyptian ceramic production of the eighth/fourteenth and ninth/fifteenth century became popular not only on a local or regional market;43 in fact, it was also appreciated by European society, where it was exported in considerable quantity,44 frequently in association with the trade of other products (as containers).

3

Chinese Wares in Written Sources: Value and Use

On the one hand, the material evidence provides information about the presence on the Egyptian market of high quality imported Chinese ceramics and about the impact of these productions on the local industry; on the other hand, contemporary textual sources offer a detailed view of the economic value of these objects and of the role they played in upper class Mamluk society.45 Expensive, exotic, and rare, Chinese ceramics were frequently used by the sultan and his court to serve foreign ambassadors and guests during sumptuous and succulent banquets. Texts are quite vague and imprecise regarding the physical aspect of these objects (their shape and decoration), hampering the

42 43 44 45

Dīn Khalīl al-Tawrīzī al-Dasārī in Damascus; these date to 826–7/1423–4 (Jenkins, Mamluk underglaze-painted pottery 104). During the Mamluk period, Miṣr referred to the area of Fustat. Similar objects were also produced in Syria and, without precise information on the finds’ original context, it is difficult to distinguish between Syrian and Egyptian productions. Lazzarini and Tonghini, Importazioni 402–7. Milwright’s article on ceramic production and distribution, based on written sources, provides a global idea of the trade of Chinese wares in the Islamic world during the Ayyubid and Mamluk periods and of the social and economic roles played by this precious material (Milwright, Pottery; the recent contribution of Doris Behrens-Abouseif, who collected information regarding the use of porcelains in Mamluk diplomacy, was also integrated into the present study [Behrens-Abouseif, Practising diplomacy, 107–17, 137–9]). With regard to the use of porcelain and other Chinese wares during banquets and, more generally, with regard to their use for drinking and consuming food, I refer to the recent publication of Paulina Lewicka on the food habits of medieval Cairenes (Lewicka, Food).

834

vezzoli

association with archaeological finds; nevertheless, they frequently mention drinks or foods that were served in these objects, and this allows some (limited) interpretation of the morphological repertoire. Medieval records of Arab authors mention the use of porcelain pitchers (awānī l-ṣīnī) to serve drinks (usually sweet drinks) that were consumed in bronze goblets46 or porcelain bowls,47 but the authors do not provide any indication of the type of ware used for this purpose (celadons or blue and white wares). These objects appear to have been particularly popular for the consumption of special beverages. In fact, the author Ibn Iyās (d. 930/1524) also reported that Sultan al-Ẓāhir Barqūq (r. 784–91/1382–9 and 792–801/1390–9) and his amirs used to drink qūmis in china bowls, twice a week, at the hippodrome below the citadel, wearing their best uniforms.48 Drinks made with sugar and lemon juice were also served in similar vessels and were offered, for example, at the reception held in 918/1512 by Sultan Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī (r. 906–22/1501–16) for the Venetian ambassador Domenico Trevisan.49 A sugar and lemon (al-sukkar wa-l-laymūn) drink is frequently mentioned also by alMaqrīzī (d. 845/1442), who reported that, during special occasions, it was poured into pools or fountains from where officers and troops could serve themselves using a cup.50 Sugar also accompanied other drinks, which were served in porcelain bowls: for instance, sukkar ḥarīf (spicy sugar) and aqsimā (made of sugar and spices, with the addition of rose water), was usually consumed after an important banquet.51 Chinese objects were also employed for serving and consuming food. As documented by Paulina Lewicka in her study on the food habits of medieval Cairenes, a variety of alimentary practices existed at the time: the tradition of consuming food in large communal bowls (qaṣʿa) was a common practice during the Islamic period, but the use of smaller, individual bowls (zabdiyya) for personal consumption was also affirmed.52 Depending on the social context, Mamluk tables were set with bowls or dishes made of glazed ware, porcelain, copper or brass.53 While written sources generally focus on the description of the table assemblage of the sultan and his important guests, and mention the 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53

Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr v, 25, as mentioned in Milwright, Pottery 515, note 98. Ibn Iyās, ibid. iii, 241, as mentioned in Milwright, ibid. 515, note 103. The qūmis was an alcoholic beverage particularly appreciated during the Mamluk period, made of fermented mare’s milk with 4 to 5 percent alcohol (Lewicka, Food 484). Trevisan, Voyage 181 and 191, as mentioned in Milwright, ibid. 515, note 102. Al-Maqrīzī, al-Sulūk i/3, 939, as mentioned in Lewicka, Food 480. Lewicka, Food 472, note 55. Ibid. 425–31. Ibid. 429.

precious objects for eminent guests

835

use of porcelain objects especially during important diplomatic events, and the archaeological evidence supports this data, this archaeological evidence also provides insight into the table habits of lower classes. Chinese wares of a variety of shapes have been documented in archaeological contexts and may confirm the use of different food practices. Chinese porcelains were also offered as gifts to foreign personalities.54 They were, in fact, precious and rare objects, greatly appreciated by European courts; thus, they were frequently used as a medium to strengthen political and economic agreements.55 Gift giving, but also gift exchange and gift redistribution to the entourage, was an important aspect of Mamluk diplomacy, which allowed to create many occasions of contacts, inside and outside their territory, on many levels (cultural, economic and political).56 A long list of diplomatic offers could be written, but we mention here just few cases, and focus, in particular, on the relations between the Mamluks and their European counterparts. During the ninth/fifteenth century in particular, these objects were sent all over Europe in order to please allies or to encourage new alliances. Kings, princes, and political personalities were the main recipients of such objects: in 1447 Charles VII, king of France (r. 1422–61), received some porcelains from Sultan al-Ẓāhir Jaqmaq (r. 842–57/1438–53) at the negotiations on French commercial interests in the Levant.57 In 881/1476 the queen of Cyprus, Catherine Cornaro (r. 1474–89), was also sent fourteen vessels by Sultan Qāytbāy (r. 872–901/1468– 96)58 and Lorenzo de’ Medici (1449–92) was endowed with several porcelains by the same sultan in 892/1487.59 As we might expect, the city of Venice, the

54 55

56 57 58 59

Behrens-Abouseif, Practising diplomacy 137. Nevertheless, written sources report that not only European ambassadors and political personalities received these objects as diplomatic gifts; for instance, Ibn Abī l-Faḍāʾil (eighth/fourteenth century) recalls that Baybars (r. 658–76/1260–77) sent porcelain vases as a gift eastward and, for instance, to Berke Khan of the Golden Horde (Ibn Abī l-Fadāʾil, al-Nahj al-sadīd i, 453, as mentioned in Milwright, Pottery 516, note 109). Watkins, Towards a new diplomatic history 10; Cutler, Significant gifts. Davillier, Les Origines 9–10 quoting Matthieu de Couchy, MS 434, Sorbonne; BehrensAbouseif, Practising diplomacy 117. Mas Latrie, Histoire 405–6, as mentioned in Milwright, Pottery 516, note 113. This present was part of a large donation made by Sultan Qāytbāy to Lorenzo de’ Medici during the political and commercial negotiations that resulted in peace between the two parties in 1489 (Spallanzani, Ceramiche orientali 56). The Medici archives mentioned the presence, among the family’s fortune, of several items of porcelain that arrived in Florence as purchases or gifts, such as green porcelains that may be interpreted as celadons and blue and white porcelains (Spallanzani, Ceramiche; Spallanzani, Ceramiche orientali 83–98).

836

vezzoli

main commercial partner of the Mamluks,60 was a major recipient of this generosity. From the ninth/fifteenth century, a series of treaties signed by the two parties promoted new commercial agreements and favored the exchange of precious goods: in 1442, doge Foscari (r. 1423–57) received from the Mamluk court thirty Chinese porcelains; in 1461 doge Malipiero (r. 1457–62), received twenty items, and in 1490 doge Barbarigo (r. 1486–1501) accepted thirty-three items. More generally, various reports mention that the Serenissima was frequently endowed with precious porcelains by Mamluk sultans.61 Thanks to these special relations, the Italian city controlled the luxury market in Europe; it was in fact in 1475–6 in Venice that Filippo Strozzi, an important Florentine banker, ordered a group of porcelain bowls and Syrian wares called “porcellana domaschina.”62 Clearly “gift giving” was not unilateral: foreign ambassadors who attended the Mamluk court also brought precious and expensive gifts. At the beginning of the eighth/fourteenth century, for example, the Rasulid sultan sent two ships full of luxury materials including fine porcelains and jade to Egypt.63 During his official visit in 907/1502, the Venetian emissary, Benedetto Sanudo, presented the sultan with luxury textiles, furs, and Parmesan cheese, and in return he received chickens, sweetmeats, watermelons, and twenty pieces of Chinese porcelain of various sizes for the doge of the Serenissima.64 Several reports attest to the continuous exchange of precious objects between foreign emissaries and sultans and vice versa. Important quantities of porcelains reached European courts after passing through the Islamic world and Egypt in particular; they arrived in the continent as diplomatic gifts but also as part of the merchandise purchased on the international market. Chinese wares were precious objects highly appreciated in the Mediterranean region and constituted interesting indicators of the social life of medieval upper classes, who were attracted, for different reasons, to the eastern (and Far Eastern) worlds.

60 61 62 63 64

Howard, Venise 73–89. Milwright, Pottery 516; Behrens-Abouseif, Practising diplomacy 107–12. The document that mentions these purchases does not indicate the provenance of the porcelains (Spallanzani, Ceramiche orientali 50–2). Milwright, Pottery 506, note 20. Carboni, Venise 370–2, selection made by Giovanni Curatola.

precious objects for eminent guests

4

837

Conclusions

It is clear from the accounts of medieval authors and from archaeological evidence that blue and white porcelain and celadons were the most highly valued and appreciated types of pottery of the Mamluk period. In Mamluk Egypt, in fact, such Chinese wares became a status symbol of the ruling class and were important objects to show off and to offer eminent guests. These materials were mainly appreciated for their physical features: the translucence, the hardness, and the purity of the material, the finesse of the design. These objects not only decorated the tables of Mamluk sovereigns but, given their high cost and their prestigious value, they were also sent as gifts in diplomatic exchanges. Porcelains were used to express political, social, and economic positions and were frequently a medium to start or strengthen alliances. This material was so precious and expensive that it cannot be considered as simple tableware for the banquets of Mamluk sultans or European emissaries, it should be considered as a historical marker that provides insight into the contemporary society and, in particular, into the political strategies employed to please allies and to develop new collaborations on an international scale. Furthermore, these objects played an important role in the framework of local ceramic production. In fact, Egyptian industry began to exploit the decorative and morphological repertoire of Chinese imports in order to supply a larger number of new consumers. The quality and value of these objects consequently reached a wide share of Egyptian society during Mamluk times. Though the local industry never reached the quality of Chinese originals, it nevertheless established itself on the regional market and also attracted the European sphere.

838

figure 28.1

vezzoli

Chinese wares. Scale: 1:2 1. IS.F.4388; 2. IS.F.1214; 3. IS.F.4396; 4. IS.F.5617; 5. IS.F.1213 Courtesy Royal Museums of Art and History, Brussels

precious objects for eminent guests

figure 28.2

Mamluk imitations of Chinese wares. Scale 1:3 1. IS.F.4837; 2. IS.F.4828.1; 3. IS.F.1310; 4. IS.F.1528; 5. IS.F.1537; 6. IS.F.1437; 7. IS.F.1108; 8. IS.F.1141; 9. IS.F.1080; 10. IS.F.1137; 11. IS.F.4357 Courtesy Royal Museums of Art and History, Brussels

839

840

vezzoli

Bibliography Primary Sources Ibn Abī l-Faḍāʾil, al-Najh al-sadīd wa-l-durr al-farīd fī-mā baʿd Taʾrīkh Ibn al-ʿAmīd, ed. and trans. E. Blochet, Histoire des Sultans Mamlouks, in PO 14/3, 19/3, 20 (1919– 29). Ibn Baṭṭūṭa, Tuḥfat al-nuẓẓār fī gharāʾib al-amṣār wa-ʿajāʾib al-asfār, ed. and trans. Ch. Defrémery and B.R. Sanguinetti, 4 vols., Paris 1853–9. Ibn Iyās, Badāʾiʿ al-zuhūr fī waqāʾiʿ al-duhūr, ed. M. Muṣṭafā, 6 vols., Cairo 1960–75. al-Maqrīzī, Kitāb al-Sulūk li-maʿrifat duwal al-mulūk, ed. M.M. Amīn and S.ʿA. al-F. ʿĀshūr, 4 vols. in 12 parts, Cairo 1934–73. Trevisan, Domenico, Voyage du magnifique et très illustre chevalier et procurateur de saint Marc, Domenico Trevisano, in J. Thenaud, Le Voyage d’Outremer de Jean Thenaud, suivi de la relation de l’ambassadeur Domenico Trevisan auprès du soudan d’Égypte, trans. Ch. Schefer, Paris 1884.

Secondary Sources Abel, A., Ġaibī et les grands faïenciers égyptiens d’époque mamelouke, avec un catalogue de leurs œuvres conservées au Musée d’Art Arabe du Caire, Cairo 1930. Abel, A., Les Céramiques arabes d’Égypte aux Musées Royaux d’Art et d’Histoire, in Bulletin des Musées Royaux d’Art et d’Histoire 3 (1930), 65–72, 101–7. Bahgat, A. and F. Massoul, La Céramique musulmane de l’Égypte, Cairo 1930. Behrens-Abouseif, D., Practising diplomacy in the Mamluk sultanate: Gifts and material culture in the medieval Islamic world, London 2014. Carboni, S., Venise et l’Orient, 828–1797, Paris 2006. Carswell, J., Blue and white: Chinese porcelain around the world, London 2000. Carswell, J., Blue and white and celadon, in Blåvitt, Blue and White, Mavi Beyaz, Stockholm 2008, 151–5. Choi, S., Excavation of the sunken treasure of the Sinan Coast, Seoul 1977. Cutler, A., Significant gifts: Patterns of exchange in late antique, Byzantine, and Early Islamic diplomacy, in Journal of Medieval and Early Modern Studies 38/1 (2008), 79– 103. Davillier, M., Les Origines de la porcelaine en Europe, Paris 1882 [quoting Matthieu de Couchy, ms. 434, Sorbonne]. Desroches, J.-P., Les Porcelaines, in Le San Diego: un trésor sous la mer, Paris 1994, 300– 59. François, V., Céramiques médiévales à Alexandrie, Cairo 1999. Gayraud, R.-P., D’est en ouest, la céramique islamique, in P. Cressier and E. Fentress (eds.), La Céramique maghrébine du haut Moyen Âge (viiie–xe siècle): État des recherches, problèmes et perspectives, Rome 2011, 293–302.

precious objects for eminent guests

841

Guo, L., Commerce, culture, and community in a Red Sea port in the thirteenth century: The Arabic documents from Quseir, Leiden and Boston 2004. Howard, D., Venise et les Mamlouks, in S. Carboni (ed.), Venise et l’Orient, 828–1797, Paris 2006, 73–89. Jenkins, M., Mamluk underglaze-painted pottery: Foundations for future study, in Muqarnas 2 (1984), 95–114. Jomier, J., Fusṭāṭ, in EI2, ii, 979–81. Kaplony, A., Fünfundzwanzig arabische Geschäftsdokumente aus dem Rotmeer-Hafen alQuṣayr al-Qadīm (7./13. Jh.), Leiden and Boston 2014. Kawatoko, M. and Y. Shindo, Artefacts of the Islamic period excavated in Egypt in the Rāya/al-Ṭūr area, South Sinai, Egypt, Japan 2009. Kawatoko, M., Artifacts of the medieval Islamic Period excavated in al-Fusṭāṭ, Egypt, Japan 2010. Krahl, R., Chinese ceramics in the late Yuan and early Ming period, in Blåvitt, Blue and White, Mavi Beyaz, Stockholm 2008, 160–4. Lazzarini, L. and C. Tonghini, Importazioni di ceramiche mamelucche a Venezia, in Actes du ixe Congrès international sur la céramique médiévale en Méditerranée, Venice 2012, 402–7. Lewicka, P., Food and foodways of the medieval Cairenes: Aspects of life in an Islamic metropolis of the eastern Mediterranean, Leiden and Boston 2011. Maillard, M., Les Tessons de Fostât conservés à la section islamique des Musées Royaux d’Art et d’Histoire, in Bulletin des Musées Royaux d’Art et d’Histoire 49 (1977), 103–27. Mas Latrie, L. de., Histoire de l’île de Chypre sous le règne des princes de la maison de Lusignan, 3 vols., Paris 1852–61. Mikami, T., Chinese ceramics from medieval sites in Egypt, in H.I.H. Prince Takahito Mikasa (ed.), Cultural and economic relations between east and west sea route, Wiesbaden 1988, 8–44. Milwright, M., Pottery in the written sources of the Ayyubid-Mamluk period (c. 567– 923/1171–1517), in BSOAS 62/3 (1999), 504–18. Northedge, A., Thoughts on the introduction of polychome glazed pottery in the Middle East, in E. Villeneuve and P. Watson (eds.), La Céramique byzantine et proto-islamique en Syrie-Jordanie (ive–viiie siècles apr. J.-C.), Beirut 2001, 207–14. Sasaki, T., Trade patterns of Zhejian wares found in West Asia, in Ho Chuimei (ed.), New light on Chinese Yue and Longquan wares, Hong Kong 1994, 322–32. Scanlon, G.T., Mamluk pottery: More evidence from Fustat, in Muqarnas 2 (1984), 115– 26. Scanlon, G.T., Preliminary report: Excavations at Fustat, 1964, in JARCE 4 (1965), 6– 30. Scanlon, G.T., The Fustat mound: A shard count, in Archaeology 24 (1971), 220–33.

842

vezzoli

Scanlon, G.T., The pits of Fustat: Problem of chronology, in Journal of Egyptian Archaeology 60 (1974), 60–78. Spallanzani, M., Ceramiche alla corte dei Medici nel Cinquecento, Modena 1994. Spallanzani, M., Ceramiche orientali a Firenze nel Rinascimento, Florence 1997. Vezzoli, V., The Fustat ceramic collection in the Royal Museums of Art and History in Brussels: The Mamluk assemblage, in Bulletin des Musées Royaux d’Art et d’Histoire 82 (2013), 119–68. Watkins, J. Towards a new diplomatic history of medieval and early modern Europe, in Journal of Medieval and Early Modern Studies 38/1 (2008), 1–14. Watson, O., Ceramics from Islamic lands: Kuwait National Museum, the Al-Sabah Collection, London 2004.

Index Abagha (Ilkhanids) 291, 327, 330, 331, 332, 333, 340, 344, 348n30, 385n33, 695n36 Abajī (Ilkhanid envoy) 295, 296 Abbasids (califat abbasside, Abbasid caliph of Baghdad, of Cairo, Banū l-ʿAbbās; see also al-Ḥākim I, Abū l-ʿAbbās Aḥmad; Hārūn al-Rashīd; Ḥusayn b. ʿAlī b. Shams al-Dīn, Sharaf al-Dīn; al-Manṣūr; alMustakfī; al-Mustanjid; al-Mustanṣir; al-Mustaʿṣim; al-Muʿtaṭid; al-Mutawakkil I; Yaʿqūb b. al-Mutawakkil I) 32, 35, 48n217, 71, 114, 119, 122, 187, 191, 204n135, 239n15, 252, 269, 308, 311n36, 312–3, 314n46, 340, 341, 343, 345, 346, 347, 350n38, 356, 357, 458, 497, 568, 574, 581, 582, 584n17, 604, 605, 610, 611, 613, 614, 617, 621–8, 630–5, 672, 678, 679, 696, 698, 793 al-ʿAbbāsī, al-Ḥasan b. ʿAbdallāh b. Muḥammad 111, 131, 226n40, 263, 264, 268, 272, 586 ʿAbdallāh b. Masʿūd 630 ʿAbdallāh b. ʿUmar Khaṭṭāb 630 ʿAbd al-Muʾmīn b. Ibrāhīm (Hafsids) 550, 551, 558, 560, 571, 572, 573, 574 ʿAbd al-Raḥmān al-Kārimī (Abyssinian envoy) 650, 651, 653 Abdalwadids (Abdelwadides; see also Musā II, Abū Ḥammū) 534n31, 553 Abel, Armand 828, 829, 831 Abū ʿAlī Manṣūr (Emirate of Bādis) 763 Abū ʿAmr ʿUthmān b. Idrīs, see ʿUthmān b. Idrīs (Borno) Abū ʿAmr ʿUthmān al-Manṣūr, see al-Manṣūr ʿUthmān (Hafsids) Abū ʿAṣīda, see al-Mustanṣir (Hafsids) Abū Bakr (Abā Bakr) b. Mīrānshāh (Timurids) 392, 393, 404, 444, 451n103, 454, 455, 456 Abū Bakr, Sayf al-Dīn (Golden Horde envoy) 283 Abū Bakr al-Ṣiddīq 630 Abū l-Faḍl (Nasrid envoy) 522 Abū Fāris ʿAzzūz, see al-Mutawakkil (Hafsids)

Abū l-Fidāʾ Ismāʿīl, see al-Ṣāliḥ (Ayyubids of Hama) Abū Ghāda, Badr al-Dīn (Mamluk envoy) 288 Abū l-Ghayth b. Abī Numayy (Sharifs of Mecca) 532, 541, 542, 543, 545, 558 Abū Ḥanīfa 115 Abū l-Qāsim (Nasrid envoy) 522 Abū Saʿīd (Ilkhanids) 135, 267, 271, 272, 273, 293, 294, 295, 296, 297, 348, 350, 351, 353n61, 545 Abū Shāma 517 Abū Yūsuf 115 Abulafia, David 140 Abyssinia (see also Amḥara; Amda Mikā’ēl; Amda Ṣeyon; Dāwit I/Dāwūd; Dāwit II; Eskender; Sayfa Arʿad; Yagbe’a Ṣeyon; Yekuno Amlāk; Yesḥāq; Zagwe; Zar’a Yā’eqob) 147, 638–54 Acre 24, 136, 406n137, 593, 685 Adana 567 ‘Addi Na’amen 650 Addressees 48n217, 49, 50, 51, 53, 185, 186, 198, 199, 200, 201, 202, 204, 205, 206, 207, 211, 216, 217, 218, 221, 222, 224, 225, 226, 227, 426, 427, 462, 493, 660, 670, 673, 688, 789 Aden 541, 542, 587, 589, 591, 593, 595, 599 al-ʿĀdil I Muḥammad (Ayyubids) 746 al-ʿĀdil II Abū Bakr (Ayyubids) 754 Adıyaman, see Ḥiṣn Manṣūr Administration 20, 35, 36n169, 119, 214n3, 219, 220, 222, 223, 239, 277, 319, 342, 343, 346, 349, 350, 588, 589, 594, 690n19, 696, 801, 802 Administrative literature 108, 120–121, 133, 185, 186, 187, 188, 198, 500, 610 al-Afḍal al-ʿAbbās b. ʿAlī (Rasulids) 589, 595, 596 Afghan mountains 627 Afghāna 632 Afghanistan 446 al-Afram, Āqqūsh 350 Africa 240, 676, 722 East 582, 648

844 Horn of 641 North 239, 240, 255, 514, 516, 659, 662, 676, 696, 716, 823 Sub-Saharan 156, 241n34, 662, 678, 679 West 148, 157, 658, 660, 662, 671n63, 673, 677 Afonso IV (Portugal) 518, 714 Afonso V (Portugal) 711, 714, 715, 716, 717, 718, 723 Agents 105, 108, 121, 128, 130, 133, 135, 141, 144, 145, 146, 154, 159, 160, 274, 318, 322, 323, 378n24, 595, 627, 668, 690n19, 752 ʿAhd (covenant, contract) 116, 117, 446–447, 624, 635, 646 al-Aḥkām al-sulṭāniyya (al-Māwardī) 622 Ahl al-dhimma (Protected communities) 113, 117n60 Ahl al-kitāb (People of the Book) 114 Ahl al-riʾāsa (Men of power) 589 Ahl-i sunna va-jamāʿa 628 Aḥmad b. Ḥasan b. ʿAjlān (Sharifs of Mecca) 547 Aḥmad Ṣāmit, Shihāb al-Dīn (Abbasid envoy) 632 Aḥmad Tegüder, see Tegüder Aḥmad (Ilkhanids) Aḥmadābād 155, 621 Ahrī 341 al-Ahwānī, ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz 156, 521 Aigle, Denise 134, 329 Aix-les-Bains 731 Ajlāb (Newly bought mamluks) 540, 732 ʿAjlān b. Rumaytha (Sharifs of Mecca) 546 Akbar (Mughals) 604 Akhī Faraj b. Bisṭām 449 Akhlāṭ 278 Akopyan, A. 356 Aksum 641 Ala Dağ (Ala-tag) 306, 435, 441, 443, 459 ʿAlāma (Signature) 27, 31, 47, 51, 53, 60, 199, 201, 206–8, 216n7, 221n20, 223, 224, 225, 426n29, 512, 513, 514, 548, 549, 551, 554– 557, 674, 675, 676, 690n20, 785, 786, 790, 791, 792, 793, 795, 801 akhūhu 201, 207, 208, 221, 675, 790 al-ʿalāmāt al-murtajaʿa 791 al-ʿalāmāt al-maqrūṭa 791

index ism (sultan’s name) 53, 201, 207, 785, 790–791, 792 wāliduhu 201, 207, 208, 790 Alamut 328 Alan 280, 306, 322 Alarcón y Santón, Maximiliano Agustín 14 Alberic of Monte Cassino 185 Albistān, see Elbistan Albuñol 521 Aldughdī, Badr al-Dīn (Mamluk envoy) 288 Aleppo 22, 36, 151, 253, 272n44, 347, 365, 369, 371, 373, 382, 386, 389–97, 406, 439, 456n130, 457, 597, 766 Alexandretta (gulf of) 765 Alexandria (Alexandrie) 16, 20, 21, 22, 30, 46n213, 56n265, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75, 77, 78, 79, 80, 81, 82, 83, 142, 147, 227, 242, 270, 277, 319n74, 321, 519, 520, 521, 529, 536, 541, 594, 595, 596, 639, 642, 688, 696, 733, 742, 743, 744, 746, 747, 751, 766, 782, 784, 787, 788, 789, 790, 791, 794, 823n1, 827 Āl Faḍl 350, 365, 545 Algiers (Algérie) 40, 59, 535, 763 Alhambra 511, 512, 513, 518, 519, 520, 523 ʿAlī (Portuguese envoy) 714 ʿAlī b. Abī Ṭālib 604, 606, 630 ʿAlī, ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn (Golden Horde envoy) 285 ʿAlī b. Amīrān, Sharaf al-Dīn 344 ʿAlī Bahādur 342n8 ʿAlī Bey b. Shāh Suwār (Dhulqadirids) 254 ʿAlī Efendī, Muṣṭafā 383 ʿAlī b. Ḥātim, Shams al-Dīn (Rasulid envoy) 588 ʿAlī b. ʿInān b. Mughāmis b. Rumaytha (Sharifs of Mecca) 546 ʿAlī Khwāja, Nāṣir al-Dīn (Ilkhanid envoy) 292 ʿAlī Pādshāh 352–3 Ali Pacha Ibrahim 812 ʿAlī b. Ramaḍān 612 ʿAlī Shāh 273 ʿAlī Sulṭān 403 ʿAlī b. ʿUthmān II, Abū l-Ḥasan (Merinids) 537 Alicún 523 Aljamiado 716 Allāhdād b. Nukūz 401, 402n115 ʿAllān, see Alan

index Alliances 122, 127, 136, 153, 154, 287, 302, 303, 304, 305, 306, 307, 309n24, 312, 313, 318, 320, 322, 323, 346, 371, 373, 375, 445, 463, 568, 574, 583, 714, 722, 741, 755, 758, 762, 765, 766, 835, 837 Allouche, Adel 333, 334, 490 Almería 516 Almohads (Almohades; see also al-Manṣūr, Abū Yūsuf Yaʿqūb) 57n271, 512, 514, 529, 530, 531, 535, 548, 661 Almoravides (see also Yūsuf b. Tāshufīn) 530, 534, 553 Aloe 692 Alphonso III (Aragon) 11 Alphonso IV (Aragon) 12, 67, 68, 69, 692n27, 700 Alphonso V (Aragon) 14, 67, 758 Alphonso X (Castile) 517 Alphonso XI (Castile) 518 Alqāb (Titles) 51, 126, 127, 149, 199, 202 203–5, 206, 207, 222, 223, 269n30, 388, 426, 428, 436, 486, 489n14, 493, 497, 552, 587, 598, 605, 625, 626, 660n14, 665, 669, 670, 674, 676, 678, 695, 696, 697, 698, 699, 700, 701, 702, 704, 705, 706, 789, 790 Alqāb makāniyya 204, 790 al-ḥaḍra 204, 208, 210, 211, 426, 440, 458n139, 459n142, 701n55 al-janāb 204, 205, 208, 494, 496, 497, 675, 677, 790, 813 al-jānib 204, 675 al-majlis 204, 205, 208, 494, 496, 497, 505, 606 al-maqām 203, 204, 205, 208, 211n150, 458n141, 493, 494, 496, 497, 502, 505, 616, 805, 806 al-maqarr 8n35, 204, 205, 208, 211n150, 247, 486, 489, 490, 491, 493, 494, 495, 496, 497, 498, 502, 675, 676, 789 Alqāb mufarraʿa 204 al-ashraf 8, 205, 208, 494, 497 al-sharīf 205, 206, 208, 426, 458n139, 459n142, 494, 497, 505, 805 al-karīm 205, 206, 208, 223n27, 458n139, 486, 489, 490, 491, 493, 494, 495, 496, 497, 498, 502, 675, 789, 813

845 al-ʿālī 205, 208, 223n27, 395, 397n89, 405, 458n141, 493, 494, 496, 497, 502, 616, 675, 677, 790 al-sāmī 205, 206, 494, 497, 606 Alqāb mufrada 428, 552 Alqāb murakkaba 428, 552 Āl Ṭayyiʾ 350n38, 353 Altūn Bakhshī 404 Alvares, Francesco 648–50 Amari, Michele 2, 16, 17, 18, 25, 43n199, 58, 142, 750, 760, 783, 784, 785, 788, 791 Ambassadors (ambassadeurs; īlchī, qāṣid, safīr; see also Couriers, Emissaries, Envoys, Messengers) 13, 44, 54, 56n265, 108, 110, 127, 128, 130, 135, 156, 240, 242, 243, 244n63, 245, 247, 252, 255, 256, 263, 268, 303, 320, 330, 397, 540, 566, 583, 590, 591, 659, 687, 688, 689, 690, 691, 692, 694, 823, 831, 833, 835n55, 836 Aq Qoyunlu 246, 247, 253 Armenian 728 Bornoan 663, 665, 666, 667, 668, 674, 678 Cypriot 24, 729, 730, 737 Dhulqadirid 254 Florentine 688, 691, 693, 694, 787, 792 Golden Horde 285, 289, 290, 305, 319, 320 Hafsid 156, 567, 568, 569, 570, 571, 572, 573, 575 Ilkhanid 271, 272, 279, 292, 294 Indian 239n15, 246n78 Malian 660n14 Mamluk 141, 264, 265, 266, 267, 269, 270, 274, 280, 285, 286, 288n132, 289, 290, 291, 294, 295, 318, 321, 399, 401, 588, 596, 732, 736, 763 Mongol 385, 386 Nasrid 521, 523 North African 255 Ottoman 246, 247, 248, 249, 252, 253, 387n39 Pisan 25 Rasulid 587, 591, 592, 593, 595, 597, 598 Safavid 248 Timurid 250, 251, 385, 386, 398, 728

846 Venetian 19, 245, 689, 691, 693, 694, 701n58, 707, 788, 789, 834 Amber 599 ‘Amda Mikā’ēl (Abyssinia) 650 ‘Amda Ṣeyon (Abyssinia) 644, 645 Amḥara (see also Abyssinia) 639, 648 Amid 393 Amīr akhūr 274, 285, 372, 394, 539n60, 559 Amīr al-rakb 530, 542, 668 Amīr majlis 274 Amīr ulus 209, 210, 353 Amitai, Reuven 134, 142, 313n42, 345 Anān (?) (Mamluk envoy) 289 Anas Mursī, Ashraf Muḥammad 33 Anastasius I (Byzantium) 698 Anatolia (see also Rūm) 146, 151, 153, 190, 194, 195, 196, 197, 209, 210, 240, 243, 267, 278, 290, 291, 309, 310, 311, 312, 313, 314, 321n83, 322, 334, 336, 363, 370, 371, 384n24, 396, 444, 448, 450, 497n34, 538, 676, 765 eastern 194n78, 197, 210, 375, 383 southeastern 253 southern 254, 457 Andakān 392 Andalus 190, 192, 194, 195, 196, 197, 209, 210, 215, 512, 515, 516, 517, 520, 522, 523, 524, 525, 531, 570, 571 Animals (see also Birds, Camels, Chickens, Cows, Donkeys, Elephants, Falcons, Geese, Giraffes, Gyrfalcons, Hawks, Horses, Lions, Mules, Pigeons, Rams) 242, 246, 251n102, 254, 399, 401, 590, 694, 705, 729, 832 Ankara 371, 393 al-ʿAnsī, Muḥammad b. Abī l-Ḥusayn alTūnisī (Hafsid ṣāḥib al-ʿalāma) 554 Answers ( Jawāb) 9, 52, 225, 303, 316, 331, 376, 422n20, 423, 426, 428n36, 436, 439, 440, 442, 448, 456, 457, 458, 585, 663, 667, 674, 678 ʿAntāb (see also ʿAyntāb) 388, 389, 406 Ān Tākshīr 632 Antakya 390n50, 406n136 Apellaniz, Francisco Javier 142 Apostates 117, 249 Apprecatio 199, 493

index Āqā Bīgī bt. Tīmūr 391, 393 Aq Qoyunlu (see also Ḥamza b. Qarā Yülük; Ibrāhīm b. Qarā ʿUthmān; Qarā ʿUthmān; Uzun Ḥasan; Yaʿqūb b. Uzun Ḥasan) 2, 38, 39, 152, 153, 210, 211, 240, 248n90, 249, 253, 254, 255n134, 352, 393n66, 420, 438, 489n14 Aqsaray 370 Arab Iraq (ʿIrāq-i ʿArab) 441 Arabia (see also Jazīrat al-ʿArab) 251, 272, 581, 671 southern 582, 696 western 582 Arabian tribes 111 Arafat 543 Aragon (see also Alphonso III; Alphonso IV; Alphonso V; Ferdinand II; Isabella; James I; James II; John I; Maria; Martin I; Peter IV) 7, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 46n213, 66–73, 143, 144, 194, 197, 513, 514, 516, 524, 686, 699, 701, 711, 719n36, 758, 759 Aragonese (Aragonais) 516, 535, 536 Arbel, Benjamin 19, 743, 744n12 Arbūghā (Golden Horde envoy) 281 Archbishop of Nicosia 730, 735 Archbishop of Toledo 721 Archidona 523 Archives 4–10, 41, 42, 45, 48, 55, 57, 58, 59, 107, 124, 132, 143, 218, 221, 316, 513, 549, 590, 652, 654, 687, 835n59 Arié, Rachel 512 Arigh Böke (Mongols) 310 Arishbughā (Ilkhanid envoy) 295 Armenia (see also Lesser Armenia, Cilician Armenia) 137, 138, 192n52, 194, 196, 197, 384, 585 Armenians 122, 331n15, 332, 384 Armors 253, 692 Arpa (Ilkhanids) 352n51 ʿArrāda 402 Arran 192n52, 196 Arrows 247, 248, 394, 402, 403, 653n59 ʿArṣa 706 Artīmū (Golden Horde envoy) 281 Artisans 405, 592 Artuqids (see also al-Ṣāliḥ Maḥmūd) 150 of Mardin 209, 276 ʿAṣabiyya 317 Asanbughā l-Dawādār 395

index Asandamur, Sayf al-Dīn (Ilkhanid envoy) 295 Ascensus Barcoch (Beltramo Mignanelli) 381 al-Ashqar, Shaykh Ibrāhīm b. Khiḍr b. Sunqur (Ilkhanid envoy) 297 al-Ashraf Barsbāy (Mamluks) 14, 39n178, 67, 73, 74, 75, 78, 151, 152, 211n148, 241n35, 249, 376, 422n20, 539, 547, 558, 559, 585, 600, 618, 644, 646, 647, 654, 691, 702n61, 725–9, 731, 758, 759, 760, 794 al-Ashraf Īnāl (Mamluks) 73, 84, 240n32, 241n35, 245, 246, 256, 376, 422n20, 493n26, 496n33, 538, 539n52, 540, 559n127, 711, 712, 715, 729, 730, 735, 794 al-Ashraf Ismāʿīl I (Rasulids) 586, 591, 594, 595, 596, 598 al-Ashraf Khalīl b. Qalāwūn (Mamluks) 11, 66, 67, 68, 269, 284, 543, 585, 699, 728 al-Ashraf b. al-Muẓaffar Shihāb al-Dīn Ghāzī (Ayyubids of Diyarbakr) 275 al-Ashraf Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī (Mamluks) 21, 22, 23, 52, 74, 75, 76, 81, 82, 83, 84, 240, 241n35, 244, 247, 248, 254, 256, 428, 550, 575, 653, 691, 695, 698, 720, 723, 763, 766, 795, 834 al-Ashraf Qāytbāy (Mamluks) 22, 25, 39, 73, 74, 75, 76, 80, 83, 84, 85, 153, 239n15, 240nn22 and 31, 241, 243, 246, 247, 249, 251n101, 252n105, 253, 254, 389, 428n38, 490, 502, 524, 550nn108–9, 558, 560, 568, 570, 572, 573, 604, 612, 613, 614, 615, 616, 617, 618, 638, 642, 645, 650, 654, 691, 692nn28–9, 712, 719, 737, 760, 784, 785, 787, 790, 792, 793, 794, 835 al-Ashraf Shaʿbān II (Mamluks) 25, 68, 70, 71, 78, 85, 355, 519, 692n27, 695, 704, 706 al-Ashraf Ṭūmān Bāy (Mamluks) 76, 742, 743, 744, 747, 766 Ashtor, Eliyahu 140 ʿĀshūr, Saʿīd 147 Asia 240, 722 Central 61n276, 239, 240, 250, 308, 373n68, 443n65, 823, 830n34 Minor 239, 252, 758 South 610

847 Southeast 824 Western 240, 256, 312 ʿĀşıḳ Pāşā-Zāde 384n24, 484, 485, 487, 490, 496n33, 499, 501, 550 Āsiya Bīgī, see Īsiya Bīgī Assassins 273 Astarabad 355 Astarābādī, ʿAzīz 383 Astrakhan, see Ḥājjī Tarkhān Aswan (Assouan) 49n224, 541, 823n1, 827 Asylum 149, 295, 353 61, 354, 355 ʿAṭāʾ, Majd al-Dīn 270n36, 283 Atābak 225, 271n38, 274, 291, 794, 795 Aṭāris (?), Sayf al-Dīn (Mamluk envoy) 289 Āthār al-uwal fī tartīb al-duwal (al-ʿAbbāsī) 111, 131, 263 Atiya, Aziz Suryal 13–4, 136, 144 Aṭlāmish 385, 386, 395, 398–9, 444 Ato Anbasā (Abyssinian envoy?) 650 Aturjī, Sayf al-Dīn (Mamluk envoy) (see also Turjī) 274, 286, 287, 289 Audience 396, 397, 536, 549, 597, 691, 692, 726, 727, 731, 733 Auxerre, Departmental Archives of the Yonne 23 Avnīq 385 ʿAwān 648, 649, 652 Aʿyān 364, 368, 385n34, 459n146, 598, 649 Ayas 573, 758, 765 Aydamur 806 ʿAydhāb 541, 582, 590, 591, 599, 643, 649, 652, 823n1, 827 Aydughdī l-Khwārizmī, ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn (Mamluk envoy) 265, 274, 286 al-ʿAynī 27n128, 131, 252, 305, 315n54 ʿAyn Jālūt 307, 308, 329n10, 330, 340, 345, 350n38, 532, 585 ʿAyntāb (see also ʿAntāb) 388, 389 Aytamish (Mamluk envoy) 265, 267, 270, 294, 295, 296 Aytamish (senior amir) 368, 369 Ayyāz al-Shamsī, Fakhr al-Dīn (Mamluk envoy) 268, 284, 285 Ayyubids (Ayyoubides; see also al-ʿĀdil I Muḥammad; al-ʿĀdil II Abū Bakr; alKāmil I; al-Nāṣir I Yūsuf, Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn; al-Ṣāliḥ II Ayyūb; Shajar al-Durr) 25, 122, 136, 275, 276, 281, 308, 581, 582, 685, 707, 755

848 of Damascus, see al-Nāṣir II Yūsuf; of Diyarbakr, see al-Ashraf b. al-Muẓaffar Shihāb al-Dīn Ghāzī; of Hama (see also al-Manṣūr II Muḥammad; al-Ṣāliḥ, Abū l-Fidāʾ Ismāʿīl) 209 of Ḥisn Kayfā 38, 39, 209, 459n143 of Yemen, see al-Masʿūd; al-Muʿaẓẓam Tūrānshāh I Āzād, Muḥammad 400n103 Azāq, see Tana Azemmour 715 Azerbaijan 192, 196, 253, 306n10, 311, 352, 353, 363, 364, 372, 422n20, 443n65, 444, 449n96, 450, 458, 463, 464 Azov, see Tana al-Azraq, Muḥammad b. ʿAlī (Nasrid envoy) 523, 524, 570 Baalbek 390, 396 Bāb al-Abwāb, see Derbent Bābur (Moghals) 634 Bactria 192n52, 196 Badakhshan 392 Badghis 446 Bādis (see also Abū ʿAlī Manṣūr) 756, 763 Badlāy b. Saʿd al-Dīn (Eastern Ethiopia) 651 Badr-i Chāch 626 Bagharṭāy (Golden Horde envoy) 286 Baghdad (Bagdad) 187, 189, 243n54, 311, 340–57, 363, 364, 365, 367, 368, 371– 5, 383, 447, 533n23, 545, 816, 624, 626, 696, 816 al-Madrasa al-ʿIṣmatiyya 345 al-Madrasa al-Marjāniyya 354 al-Madrasa al-Mustanṣiriyya 347 al-Madrasa al-Niẓāmiyya 354 Musée National 816 al-Baghdādī (Mamluk envoy) 282 Baghrās (Golden Horde envoy) 287 Bahāʾ al-Dīn (Abbasid envoy) 632 Bahāʾ al-Dīn (Ilkhanid envoy) 291 Bahādur al-Ṣaqrī 591 Bahasnā (Besni) 370, 388, 389 Baḥr al-Rūm 192 Bahrain 192, 193, 194, 196, 197 Baidu (Ilkhanids) 279n78, 335, 349, 352 Baiju 310, 312

index Baklamish b. Qanjūbughā (Golden Horde envoy) 286 Bāknūr 627, 632 Baktamur Jullaq 373 Baktimur (Golden Horde envoy) 287 Balbān (Delhi sultans) 623 Bālbān al-Ḥakīmī (Mamluk envoy) 284 Balbān al-Ḥalabī, Sayf al-Dīn (Mamluk envoy) 283, 284 Balbān al-Khāṣṣturkī, Sayf al-Dīn (Mamluk envoy) 283 Bālbān al-Ṣarkhadī (Mamluk envoy) 284 al-Balkhī 186 Balls 247, 253 Balsam 692 Bangāla, see Bengal Banners (étendards, bannières, sanājiq) 252, 312, 355, 535, 593, 626, 627 Banquets 247, 366, 597, 823, 833, 834, 837 Banū Dabbāb (Tripoli) 535 Banū Faḍl Allāh 220n17 Banū Ḥasan (Sharifs of Mecca) 604 Banū Hawwāra 538 Banū Hilāl 537 Banū Judhām 659 Banū l-Kuwayk 594 Banū Qatāda b. Idrīs (Sharifs of Mecca) 541 Banū Saʿīd (rulers of al-Qalʿa, near Granada) 554 Banū Sayf b. Dhī Yazan (Borno) 671 Banū Sulaym 535, 537 Bar Hebraeus 344 Barakāt b. Ḥasan b. ʿAjlān (Sharifs of Mecca) 547 Bārānī 621, 626 Barbarigo, Agostino (Venice) 80, 836 Barcelona 7, 11, 26, 43nn197 and 199, 46n213, 50n230, 59, 68, 144, 687, 701, 702, 759 Archives of the Crown of Aragon 11, 513 al-Barīdī, ʿAlam al-Dīn Sulaymān (Mamluk envoy) 290 Barkindo, B. 157 Barr al-ʿUdwa, see Morocco Basins 592 Basmala 201, 222n25, 224, 548, 665, 712, 791 Basra 345, 347n29, 350n38 Batu (Golden Horde) 307, 309, 311, 312 Bauden, Frédéric 124, 152, 153, 158, 538, 667 Bāvūrjī, Tavakkul 400n103

index Bayās 723 Bāyazīd I (Ottomans) 246, 252, 370, 371, 375, 384n24, 387n39, 494n28, 496n33, 497, 498, 500 Bāyazīd II (Ottomans) 83, 247, 428, 549, 550, 551, 558, 560, 570, 571, 572, 573, 762 Baybars al-Manṣūrī 27, 305, 311n35, 531, 534n32, 591, 806 Baydarā b. Qutlūjār, Abū Bakr (Golden Horde envoy) 290 Bāyinjā (?) (Golden Horde envoy) 287 Bāynār (Golden Horde envoy) 287 Bayram, Khawand 372 Bayram Khūjā/Khwāja (Mamluk envoy) 287 Baza 719 Beads 653 Bedouins (see also Āl Faḍl, Banū) 191, 195, 248, 254, 344, 350n38, 365, 536, 538, 544, 545, 551, 552, 648, 689n10, 755 Begŕā, see Maḥmūd Shāh Behrens-Abouseif, Doris xiii, 158, 608, 833n45 Beihammer, Alexander 58 Beirut 72, 79, 725, 752, 766 Belts 653 Bengal (Bangāla) 608, 610, 617, 627, 632, 634 Ben Miled, Lotfi 156 Berke Khān (Golden Horde) 267, 268, 269, 270, 275, 276, 280, 281, 304, 305, 306, 307, 309–20, 322, 323, 343, 434, 451, 835n55 Berke Khān b. Baybars (Mamluks) 282 Bernardini, Michele xiii, 151 Besni, see Bahasnā Bianquis, Thierry 529 Bidʿa 628, 629 Bijankār, see Vijayanagara Bijāya (Bougie; see also al-Mustanṣir Muḥammad b. Yaḥyā Abī Yaḥyā al-Muwaḥḥad; al-Muʿtaḍid ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz b. Ibrāhīm b. Yahyā) 535, 556, 575, 758 Bīk Bāzārī 452n105 Bilād Amḥara 639 Bilād al-Burtughāl 712 Bilād al-Firanj 240n32 Bilād al-Gharb 552 Bilād al-Jibāl 192n52

849 Bilād Lishbūna 712 Bilād al-Rūm 192, 194, 486, 569, 572 Bilād al-Sūdān 677 Bilāl-i Ḥabashī 401 Bilik (Bilīk) al-Sayfī, Badr al-Dīn (Mamluk envoy) 289 al-Biqāʿī 241n34, 538, 559n127 al-Bīra (Birecik) 406 Birds 244 Bisṭām-i Chākir 444–9, 454 Bitikchī, Sayf al-Dīn 342n8 Bivar, A.D.H. 663, 664 Black Sea (see also Dasht-i Qipchaq) 142, 239, 244, 303, 308, 313, 321, 495 B-l-r-gh-s (?) (Golden Horde envoy) 287 Bloom, Jonathan 661 Boats (see also Ships) 321, 356, 521, 591, 706, 728 Bologne, Museo Civico d’Arte Medioevale 815, 817 Bofarull i Mascaré, Pròsper de 13 Boloix Gallardo, Bárbara 156, 215n4 Booty 115, 116, 252, 405, 406n137 Borno (see also Idrīs b. ʿAlī; ʿUthmān b. Idrīs, Abū ʿAmr) 157, 192, 194, 196, 197, 209, 210, 658–79 Bosphorus 146, 303, 313, 320, 321 Bottles 692, 826, 830 Bougie, see Bijāya Boustronios, George 726, 732, 734, 735, 737 Bow rings 692 Bowls 248, 692, 824n6, 825, 826, 829, 830, 831, 832, 834, 836 Bowmen 398 Bows (arcs) 248, 391, 399, 402, 538, 653n59, 692, 727 Bragadino, Niccolò 743 Brancacci, Felice (Florentine envoy) 75, 130, 688, 689n15, 693, 694 Bridles 633 B-r-j-ā (Ilkhanid envoy) 295 Broadbridge, Anne 134, 135, 150, 219, 333, 334, 335, 336, 342, 353, 366, 381 Brunschvig, Robert 536, 551 Brussels 828n24 Royal Museums of Art and History 824, 828, 832 Budayd 609 Buja 192, 196

850 al-Bukhārī 673 Bukhārī, Iftikhār al-Dīn (Ilkhanid envoy) 293 al-Bukhārī, Shams al-Dīn Muḥammad 616 Būlāq 521 Bulgar/Bulgarians 194, 319 Bulgarian king 315 Bulghār 452n105 al-Bunduqdār, ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn 307 al-Bunyūlī, Muḥammad (Nasrid envoy) 520, 521 al-Burd al-muwashshā fī ṣināʿat al-inshāʾ (alMawṣilī) 35, 584 Burhān al-Dīn, Qāḍī 813 Burhān al-Dīn, Shaykh (Golden Horde envoy) 287 Burhān al-Dīn of Sivas 404n123 Burj al-Qashtīl, see El Castello Bursa 190n35, 239, 363 Burundūq (Timurids) 403, 406 al-Buṣrawī 795 Busse, Heribert 2 Bustron, Florio 730, 735 Buwayhids 621 Byzantines (including Byzantine Empire, emperor) 27n128, 115, 146, 192, 222n24, 242, 304, 313, 315, 318, 319n74, 321n80, 495n32 Byzantium (see also Anastasius I; John VI Kantakouzenos; Michael VIII Paleologus) 146, 566 Caftans 247 Cahen, Claude 2, 153, 310 Cairo, Bāb al-Naṣr 329 Bāb al-Ḥawsh 247 Bāb al-Madraj 247 Bāb al-Qaṣr 245 Bāb Zuwayla 329 Bayn al-Qaṣrayn 250 Birkat al-Fīl 366 Citadel 129, 130, 203, 239, 240, 244, 245, 246, 247, 248, 249, 250, 254, 255, 256, 365, 368, 369, 485, 486, 487, 503, 638, 651, 688, 690, 691, 727, 794, 834 al-Ḥawsh 250, 486, 649 Hippodrome (Maydān) 599 house of Dāwūd al-Maghribī 521 house of the interpreter 250

index house of al-Jamālī 250 house of Jānibak Ḥabīb 486 Khānqāh 246 Khedivial Library 20, 742 al-Madrasa al-Ḥijāziyya 250 al-Madrasa al-Jamāliyya 250 al-Madrasa al-Muʾayyadiyya 600 Musée d’Art arabe 808, 811 Qāʿat al-Baḥra 248 Qanāṭir al-sibāʿ 638 Raḥbat al-ʿīd 250 al-Raṭlī pool 247 al-Raydāniyya 329, 365, 744 al-Rumayla 247, 366 Ṣalība street 638 shops 246 streets 246, 255 Sūq al-Khayl 329 Ṭuquz Damur bridge 486 Čakrī/Çeğre Khān (Golden Horde) 451, 452 Calicut 611, 741 Caliph(ate) of Bagdad, of Cairo, see Abbasids Calligraphic styles (see also Maghribī, Taʿlīq) 50, 438 Callixtus III (pope) 718 Cambay (see also Maḥmūd Shāh, Begŕā) 610, 611 Camels 246, 253, 254, 367, 401, 406, 521, 592, 593, 827 Camlets 725, 726, 728, 735 Canard, Marius 138, 146, 156 Capello, Lorenzo (Venetian envoy) 56n265, 82, 707 Capitulations 3, 46, 734, 747, 748, 750 Capmany de Montpalau i de Surís, Antoni de 13 Carolingian Empire 569 Casoli, Andrea 737 Castel de Ferro 516 Castile (see also Alphonso X; Alphonso XI; Isabella I) 194, 197, 514, 515, 516, 517, 523, 524, 701, 711, 714, 716, 721 Castilians 516, 518, 714 Castles 253, 390, 391, 396, 406, 503 Catalonia 13n60, 144, 240 Cateura Bennasser, Pau 144 Cazulli, Andrea 737 Çeğre Khān, see Čakrī Çelebi, see Jalabī

index Cem (Ottomans) 149, 241, 248, 568 Ceremonies 129, 130, 139, 145, 146, 147, 148, 149, 152, 153, 160, 203, 219, 226, 240, 242, 243, 244, 245, 247, 248, 249, 250, 254, 255, 256, 269, 316, 317, 365, 366, 374, 491, 500, 503, 540, 597, 600, 613, 623, 624, 626, 667, 691, 694, 707, 728, 801 Ceylon (Sarandīb) 52n245, 627, 632 Chaghāniyān, see Ṣaghāniyān Chaghatayids 265, 346, 363, 367 Chamberlains (ḥājib) 265, 486, 597, 690 Chancery (see also Dīwān al-inshāʾ) Almohad 49, 47, 512, 547 Aq Qoyunlu 2, 42n196, 422 Ayyubid 2, 55n256, 202–3, 205n137, 206nn141–2, 696, 746 Fatimid 5n21 Hafsid 547–51 Nasrid 512–4 Ottoman 2, 41, 437n49 Qara Qoyunlu 422–3, 426nn29 and 31, 427–8, 436, 437n49, 438, 462 Rasulid 35, 584 Safavid 2, 421n17 Timurid 2, 40n187, 422, 426, 437n49 Chancery manuals 3, 4, 5, 9, 12, 26–35, 36, 42, 43, 44, 45, 48, 50, 51n237, 56, 59, 60, 61, 66, 107, 109, 120, 125, 126, 127, 128, 129, 131, 132, 133, 134, 136, 145, 151, 160, 185, 189, 201, 202, 203, 205, 209, 211, 219, 220, 221, 222, 226, 263n1, 304, 323, 420, 422n20, 428n34, 438, 491, 499, 500, 511, 520, 610, 642, 674, 789, 791 Chancery officials (clerks) 8n35, 28, 34n159, 35, 54, 128, 141, 222, 245, 263, 264, 500, 690 Chandeliers 592 Chapoutot-Remadi, Mounira 156 Chaqmāq 401n109 Charla (Cyprus) 736 Charles I (Savoy) 25, 85 Charles VII (France) 22–3, 83, 84, 835 Charlotte (Cyprus) 25, 726, 730, 731, 732, 733, 734, 735, 736, 737, 738 Cheese 692, 693 Chickens 250, 689, 836 Chief secretary 8, 54, 274

851 China 157, 190n32, 192n53, 194n79, 195, 196, 197, 209, 210, 392, 823, 824, 825, 826, 829, 830, 832 Chinese ceramics 157, 823, 824, 826, 827, 828, 831, 833 Chinggis Khān (Mongols 312, 352n51, 390 Chinggisids 274, 277, 302, 308, 309, 310, 311, 312, 316, 317, 322, 352, 357, 449n96, 451 Choban (Ilkhanids) 273, 278, 279, 294, 295, 296, 353 Chobanids (see also Dimashq Khwāja, Malik Ashraf) 150, 210, 295, 352, 353, 354 Christ, Georg 141 Christians, Coptic 638, 640 Jacobite 639 Orthodox 146 Cilicia 331, 332, 568 Cilician Armenia (Lesser Armenia; see also Hetʿum; Lewon) 331, 728 Cilician Armenians 332 Clifford, W. 153 Cloaks 253 Clocks 253 Cloth cubit (dhirāʿ) 49, 200, 201, 675 Clothes (see also Belts, Caftans, Cloaks, Coats, Fawqānī, Scarves, Shirts) 246, 401, 522, 599, 692, 693 Coats 253 Cobb, Paul M. 136 Coins 252, 314n45, 318, 353, 355, 356, 364, 398, 450n97, 451n102, 452, 454, 582, 613, 624, 626, 634, 635 Colin, George S. 39, 156, 520, 712, 715n20 Commanders 225, 244, 245, 247, 263, 264, 265, 266, 268, 269, 270, 272, 274, 275, 277, 278, 279, 285, 286, 290, 291, 308, 312n37, 343, 402n117, 446, 696, 757 Condominia 137 Conermann, Stephan 155 Consensus (ijmāʿ) 116, 627, 628 Constantine, see al-Muktafī ʿAbd al-Raḥmān b. Muḥammad b. Abī Yaḥyā Constantine of Chios (Cypriot envoy) 737 Constantinople 194, 196, 197, 210, 211, 246, 303, 311, 313, 314, 321, 485, 495, 566, 567, 570, 676, 702n60, 716, 718, 746 Consuls 702, 749, 752, 753 Catalan 73 Florentine 787

852 Marseilles 22 Pisan 757 Venetian 319n74, 693n31, 741, 742, 743, 744, 747, 757, 766, 794 Consulates 140 Aragonese 143 Ragusan 21, 83 Venetian 20, 141 Coote, Lesley A. 145 Copper (cuivre) 592, 662, 802, 803, 834 Coral 662 Cordoba 701 Cornaro, Catherine (Cyprus) 19, 84, 692n29, 737, 835 Cornaro, Marco (Venice) 78 Corroboratio 199, 494 Corsairs (see also Pirates) 242n49, 750, 751, 753, 754, 768 Corsica 702 Corvinos, Mathias (Hungary) 573 Coulon, Damien 143 Council of Florence 646 of the Mamluk sultan 366, 400, 486 of Ten (Venice) 720 Coureas, Nicholas 24n116, 138, 139 Couriers (barīdī, sāʿin; see also Ambassadors, Emissaries, Envoys, Messengers) 218, 219, 222, 224, 440, 441, 442, 458, 459, 703 Courio, Nicholas de 733 Cows 406 Crimea 39, 194, 303, 308, 315, 319, 321, 452, 499 Croatia 702 Crowe, Yolande 155 Crusaders 9n42, 27n128, 52n243, 122, 132, 134, 136, 137, 138, 145, 308, 313, 495, 517, 583, 695, 718, 755 Cuirasses 393, 486, 493 Cuoq, Joseph 663, 666 Cutler, Anthony 158 Cyprus (see also Charla; Charlotte; Cornaro, Catherine; James II; Janus; John II; Louis; Peter I) 19, 20, 23, 24, 25, 76, 80, 84, 137, 138, 139, 194, 240, 246n76, 519, 689n12, 725–38, 743, 746, 759, 761 Cypriots 39, 699, 726, 727, 731, 732, 738 Cyrénaïque 531

index Dābul 611 Daggers 522 Dajjāl (Antichrist) 392 Dalmatia 702 Damascus 29, 36, 151, 211n149, 239, 242, 244n63, 250, 254, 272, 276, 290, 291, 292, 306, 331, 333, 335, 340, 351n47, 367, 372, 373, 375, 381, 389, 391, 394, 397– 405, 439, 444, 453, 458n138, 517, 572, 573, 574, 595, 596, 659, 795, 826 al-Madrasa al-Ashrafiyya 255 al-Qaṣr al-Ablaq 401, 405n131 Qubbat al-Sayyār 397 Damietta 82, 729, 743n9, 746 Damurdāsh (Tīmūrtāsh) al-Muḥammadī 369 Dankiz (Qara Qoyunlu envoy) 400n58, 460 Daoulatli, Abd al-Aziz 156 Daphnusia (Dafnusyā) 321 Dār al-ʿadl (Grievance court) 276, 366 Dār al-ʿahd (Abode of covenant) 112, 117 Dār al-ḍiyāfa 254, 277 Dār al-ḥarb (Abode of war) 35n166, 112, 113, 115, 116, 117, 118, 188, 193 Dār al-Islām (Abode of Islam) 112, 113, 115, 116, 117, 118, 122, 188, 193, 304, 311, 314, 495, 658, 660, 667, 676, 678, 714, 715, 717 Dār al-ṣulḥ (Abode of truce) 117 Darj, see Scrolls Darrāj, Aḥmad 39, 145, 149, 151, 152, 153, 605, 607, 612 Darwīsh (Golden Horde) 451 Dasht-i Qipchaq (Qipchaq; see also Black Sea) 148, 190n32, 192n53, 194n79, 196, 197, 238n7, 277, 308, 309, 313, 319, 321n82, 392, 452 Dastjirdānī, Jamāl al-Dīn 349, 350n42 Dastūr al-kātib fī taʿyīn al-marātib (Nakhjawānī) 342 Datum 199 Ḍawʾ al-ṣubḥ al-musfir wa-janā l-dawḥ almuthmir (al-Qalqashandī) 28n131, 32 Dawādār 12n54, 19, 46n213, 55n259, 128, 274, 343, 395, 486, 547, 607, 690n20, 693, 732, 733, 791, 801, 802, 806 al-Dawādārī, ʿAlam al-Dīn (Mamluk envoy) 284 Dāwit I/Dāwūd (Abyssinia) 643–7, 651

index Dāwit II (Abyssinia) 645 Dawlatābād, see Delhi Dawlat Khān, Majd al-Dīn (Seljuq envoy) 291 Dawlat Tīmūr 406 Dāwūd, see Dāwit (Abyssinia) Dāwūd al-Maghribī 521 Dayr al-Ghaṭs (Dayr al-Maghṭis) 647 Decrees (décrets; Marsūm) 14, 16, 18, 20, 21, 22, 26, 45, 46, 56n265, 66, 123, 124, 134, 141, 222, 355, 391, 511, 548, 595, 612n35, 616, 617, 685, 686, 695n36, 741, 742, 743, 744, 745, 746, 747, 748, 749, 750, 751, 752, 753, 754, 756, 758, 759, 760, 761, 762, 763, 764, 766, 767, 768, 788, 795, 801 Deeds 6, 9, 36n169, 37, 218, 439 Dekkiche, Malika 11, 39, 49, 674, 676 Delhi (Dawlatābād, Dēōgīr; see also Balbān; Fīrūz Shāh III b. Rajab, Abū l-Mużaffar; Īltutmish; Khiḍr Khān; Khusraw Khān, Nāṣir al-Dīn; Masʿūd Shāh, ʿAlāʾ alDīn; Muḥammad Sām, Muʿizz al-Dīn; Muḥammad Shāh I, ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn Khaljī; Muḥammad Shāh II b. Tughluqshāh, Abū l-Mujāhid; Muḥammad Shāh III, Nāṣir al-Dīn; Muḥammad b. Tughluq) 155, 308n18, 312, 585, 590n30, 610, 614, 617, 621, 623, 624, 625, 627, 634, 635 Delta (Egypt) 30, 541, 647, 743 Demetrio (Abyssinian envoy) 652 Dēōgīr, see Delhi Derbent (Bāb al-Abwāb) 194, 197, 306, 307 De ruina Damasci (Beltramo Mignanelli) 381, 393 Dewière, Rémi 39n183, 157 al-Dhahabī 305, 517 al-Dhakwānī l-Kānimī, Ibrāhīm b. Yaʿqūb 661 Dhayl al-Rawḍatayn (Abū Shāma) 517 Dhimma (Liability) 759, 762 Dhubyān al-Shaykhī, Nāṣir al-Dīn 276–7 Dhulqadirids (see also ʿAlī Bey b. Shāh Suwār; Jahāngīr; Shāh Suwār) 240, 254, 383, 384n27, 406n136, 457, 484 D’hulster, Kristof 149 Diaries 20, 130, 521, 743, 747 Diedo, Pietro 19, 82, 689, 691, 693 Diem, Werner 2

853 Dilshād Khātūn (Jalayirids) 353, 354 Dimashq Khwāja (Chobanids) 295, 353n61 Diplomas of investiture 122, 543, 610, 613 Diplomatics (see also ʿAlāma, Alqāb, Answers, Apprecatio, Basmala, Calligraphic styles, Chancery, Corroboratio, Datum, Decrees, Diplomas of investiture, Dispositio, Dīwān al-inshāʾ, Duʿāʾ, Expositio, Features, Form, Formularies, Ikhwāniyyāt, Inceptive letters, Inks, Inscriptio, Inshāʾ, Instructions, Intitulatio, Iqtibās, Jaʿba, Kātib, Khawātim, Languages, Layout, Letters of credence, Lingua franca, Matn, Mithāl, Munshaʾāt, Munshiʾ, Murabbaʿ, Muṭālaʿa, Narratio, Nuʿūt, Oaths, Paper, Penbox, Petitions, Poetry, Prose, Protocol, Proverbs, Quranic verses, Ranks, Recognitio, Registers, Reports of ambassadors, Safe-conducts, Salutatio, Scrolls, Seals, Suyūrghāl, Taqlīd, Taʿrīf, Translators, Truces, Ṭughrā, Ṭurra, Validation, Waṣl, Yarligh) 1, 2, 3, 4, 11, 12, 15, 18, 26, 32, 33, 34, 36, 37, 40, 42, 43, 47, 50, 54, 58, 59, 61, 66, 125, 186, 198, 199, 211, 241, 420, 423, 437n49, 790 Dispositio 199, 426, 494 Dīwān al-inshāʾ, see al-Thaghr al-bāsim Dīwān al-inshāʾ (see also Chancery) 8, 28, 33, 36, 47, 216n7, 317, 318, 512, 551, 588, 591, 791 Dīwān al-khātam 119 Dīwān al-rasāʾīl 119 Diyār Bakr (Diyarbakir) 350, 355, 443n65 Djerba 535, 536 Dolfin, John (Hospitaller envoy) 731, 732, 733 Dölger, Franz 146 Don Alonzo (Naples) 736 Donato, Andrea (Venetian envoy) 788 Donkeys (Asses) 689, 714 Dourmec, Bernard 145 Dragomans (see also Interpreters, Translators) 141 Drums (tambours) 243, 244, 535, 690 Duʿāʾ (Invocatio, Invocations) 29, 34, 42, 126, 127, 199, 202, 203, 207, 208, 494, 540, 630 Dubrovnik (see also Ragusa) 21, 142, 143 Duqmāq 369

854 al-Durūbī, Samīr 29, 57 Dustūr 28, 30 Edbury, Peter W. 138, 735 Edessa (Rūhā, Urfa) 406 Edigü (Golden Horde) 451, 452, 453 Ehrenkreutz, Andrew 142 Elbistan (Ālbistān) 384, 439 El Castello (Burj al-Qashtīl) 535 Elephants 244, 392, 393, 400n106, 599 El-Leithy, Tamer 7 Emissaries (īlchī, qāṣid, safīr; see also Ambassadors, Couriers, Envoys, Messengers) 44, 110, 120, 129, 130, 131, 239, 243, 823, 824, 831, 836, 837 Abyssinian 638, 649, 650, 651, 652, 654 Bornoan 667 Cypriot 727, 734, 735 Dhulqadirid 254 European 130 French 22, 23, 256, 717 Florentine 784, 787, 789 German 145 Ilkhanid 349 Jalayirid 352, 355 Malwa 606, 607, 611, 612n35, 613, 614, 618 Mamluk 127, 129, 130, 249n92, 341, 646, 648, 651, 784, 787, 792 Nasrid 520, 521, 522, 523 Ottoman 240n31, 252n105 Portuguese 713, 714, 715, 716, 718 Rasulid 590, 593, 595, 597, 626 Venetian 836 Emmanuel I (Portugal) 716 England (see also Henry VII) 8n34, 145, 718 Envoys (īlchī, qāṣid, safīr; see also Ambassadors, Couriers, Emissaries, Messengers) 44, 48, 427, 440, 441, 442, 492, 621, 686, 687, 688, 702, 725, 726 Abbasid 623, 632, 633, 634 Abyssinian 640, 641, 642, 643, 646, 649, 650, 651, 652, 653, 654 Aq Qoyunlu 450n98, 456n130 Byzantine 318 Cypriot 729, 730, 731, 732, 733, 734, 735, 736, 737, 738 Florentine 15 Golden Horde 282, 284, 291, 644, 645, 293, 296, 316, 434, 450, 451, 452

index Hafsid 570, 571, 572, 573, 574 Hospitaller 731 Indian 585, 621, 625, 626 Mamluk 15, 16, 26, 54, 66, 139, 144, 145, 214, 216, 217, 252, 281, 303, 316, 320, 397, 398, 399, 453, 458, 459, 583, 626, 642, 646, 730, 731, 736, 737, 738, 784 Milanese 692 Mongol 329, 331, 332, 335 Nasrid 520, 522, 523 Ottoman 248, 249, 485, 486, 487, 488, 489, 490, 491, 493, 502, 503, 504 Qaramanid 40 Qara Qoyunlu 439, 443, 445, 446, 447, 449n96, 450, 457, 458 Rasulid 586, 587, 588, 589, 590, 591, 598, 599 Safavid 248 Seljuq 307 Timurid 370n45, 384, 395, 446n82, 459, 728 Venetian 689 Ermine 486, 493, 692, 728 Erzincan 370, 441 Erzurum 448 Eschatocol, see Khawātim Escouchy, Mathieu d’ 23 Eskender (Abyssinia) 645, 650 Espionage (see also Intelligence, Spies) 135, 345 Ethiopia (al-Ḥabasha) (see also Abyssinia; Badlāy b. Saʿd al-Dīn; Walasmaʿ) 147, 190, 192, 194, 195, 196, 197, 209, 210, 240, 241, 638, 641, 646, 648, 651 Ethiopians 671 Ethnicity 135, 623, 719 Etiquette 226, 242, 245, 249, 255, 387, 584, 666, 676 Euphrates 311, 332, 343, 364n1, 406, 400, 443n65 Ewers 592, 653 Expenses 44, 274, 590, 600, 633, 726, 728, 729, 733, 738 Expositio 199, 494 Fabri, Felix 130 al-Fākhirī 341 Fakhr al-Dīn al-Muqriʾ (Mamluk envoy) 291 Fakhr al-Dīn al-Rāzī 628

855

index K. al-Fakhrī (Ibn al-Ṭiqṭaqā) 341 al-Fakhrī, ʿIzz al-Dīn Aybak (Mamluk envoy) 282 Falcons 692n27 Famagusta 733, 734, 735, 736, 737, 743 Far East (Extrême-Orient) 536, 541, 685, 823, 827, 828, 836 al-Fāriqī, Jamāl al-Dīn Muḥammad b. ʿAlī (Rasulid envoy) 588, 589n24, 595, 596 al-Fāriqī, Sharaf al-Dīn Ḥusayn b. ʿAlī (Rasulid envoy) 595 Farkha 200 Farmān 421n18, 423 Faroqhi, Suraiya 659 Farrāj, ʿAbd al-Sattār 32 Fars (Fārs) 192n52, 194n78, 196, 197, 389, 445, 448, 392 al-Fāsī 606 Faṣl al-khiṭāb fī tarsīl Abī Bakr Ibn Khaṭṭāb (Ibn Khaṭṭāb al-Mursī) 511 Fatwā 131, 132, 135, 458, 523, 716 Favereau, Marie 148, 219 Fawātiḥ 50, 202 ḥamdala 202, 661, 665 tashahhud 202 taṣliya 202 baʿdiyya 202, 665 Fawqānī 252, 504 Features (of documents) external 17, 34, 47, 49, 51, 53, 120, 125, 127, 158, 199, 200–2, 206, 207, 410, 416, 437, 492 internal 17, 34, 43, 47, 49, 50–4, 120, 125, 199, 202, 206, 207, 410, 416, 492 Federighi, Carlo (Florentine envoy) 75 Fekete, Lajos 2 Ferdinand I (Naples) 719 Ferdinand II (Aragon) 718, 719, 720 Ferīdūn Beg 27n127, 40, 422 Festivities 121, 129, 277, 730, 732 Fez (Fès) 209, 210, 514, 515, 519, 531, 546, 676 Fezzan 662 Firearms 244n63, 393n66, 398n98, 402, 692 Fire’-Mikā’ēl (Abyssinian envoy) 652 Fireworks 243, 248 Fīrūz, Jamāl al-Dīn (Rasulid envoy) 587 Fīrūz Shāh III b. Rajab, Abū l-Mużaffar (Delhi sultans) 626, 627, 632, 633, 634

Florence (see also Lorenzo de’ Medici) 15, 16, 17, 43nn197 and 199, 50n230, 56n265, 58, 59, 73–6, 142, 143, 646, 686, 687, 693, 701, 750, 760, 761, 762, 767, 782, 783, 784, 787, 788, 790, 792, 827n20 Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana (Laurentian Library) 15, 782, 783, 784, 789 State Archives 15, 782, 783, 784, 788, 799, 790 Florentines 16, 18, 142, 751, 762, 784, 785, 792, 793 Fortresses 253, 306, 307, 384, 385, 388, 389, 390, 394, 395, 396, 441, 447, 450, 512, 519, 521, 522, 523, 574, 589, 633, 699 Foscari, Francesco (Venice) 79, 788, 799 Food (see also Chickens, Meat, Rice, Sweets, Watermelons) 129, 246, 251n102, 254, 348, 349, 685, 694, 830n31, 833n45, 834, 835 Form (of documents) 1, 43, 47–54, 198, 199 Formularies 3, 4, 5, 26, 28, 29, 42, 44, 59, 60, 107n12 Formulary 217, 218, 221, 222, 223, 584, 597, 751n46, 783 Fould, Louis 809 France (see also Charles VII; Louis IX; Louis XI; Louis XII; Louis XIV) 16, 22, 23, 83, 84, 145, 194, 197, 686, 701, 717 Franks (Francs, Firanj) 23, 45, 122, 136, 138, 192, 215, 222n24, 239, 240n33, 252, 273, 282, 332, 517, 541, 569, 593, 731, 745, 750, 751, 753, 755, 765, 768 Frantz-Murphy, Gladys 20, 141 Frederick II (Holy Roman Empire) 754 Frenkel, Yehoshua 148, 158 Frontiers 134, 238–9, 249, 254, 309, 331–2, 337, 371, 384–5, 535, 632, 699 Fujian 826n15 Furḍa 616 Furs (see also Ermine, Lynx, Sable, Squirrel) 244, 246, 251, 486, 493, 692, 836 Fustat 823, 824, 825, 826, 827, 828, 829, 831, 832 Futūḥāt-i Fīrūz Shāhī (Fīrūz Shāh) 627 Futūḥāt-i Shām u Rūm 382 Fuzhou 826n15 Gabrieli, Francesco 145 Games 244, 248, 317

856 Gandulph of Sicily 642, 650, 653n59 García de Linares, Ramón 14 Geese 689 Gelasius I (pope) 697 Gems 246, 253 Generalife (Granada) 523 Genoa 24, 25, 85, 139, 142, 192n76, 194, 196, 197, 240, 514, 686, 687, 725, 758 State Archives 24 Genoese 142, 238n8, 273, 285, 313, 316, 318, 319n74, 322, 520, 702n61, 734, 737, 760 George V (Georgia) 278 Georgia (Kurjistān; see also George V) 197, 256n137, 277, 441 Georgians 384n26, 647 Germany (al-Almān) 145, 192n76, 196 Germans 145 Gethsemane 647 al-Ghafāyirī, Abū Zayd 546 al-Ghāfiqī, Muḥammad b. Yaḥyā b. ʿAbd alMalik (Hafsid ṣāḥib al-ʿalāma) 555 al-Ghāfiqī, Yaḥyā b. ʿAbd al-Malik (Hafsid ṣāḥib al-ʿalāma) 555 al-Ghammāz, Abū l-ʿAbbās Aḥmad b. Muḥammad al-Khazrajī l-Balansī (Hafsid ṣāḥib al-ʿalāma) 555 Ghana 669, 675 al-Gharb al-Aqṣā, see Morocco al-Ghassānī, Abū l-Qāsim Muḥammad b. Yahyā b. Muḥammad al-Burjī (Hafsid ṣāḥib al-ʿalāma) 556 al-Ghassānī, Abū l-ʿAbbās Aḥmad b. Ibrāhīm b. ʿAbd al-Ḥaqq al-Tūnisī l-Andalusī (Hafsid ṣāḥib al-ʿalāma) 554 Ghaybī 828n24, 832 Ghāzān (Ilkhanids) 134, 270, 271, 292, 293, 328, 335, 336, 348, 349, 351n47 Ghazna 392 Ghazza 390n50 Ghiyāth al-Dīn Shāh (Malwa) 239n15, 604 Ghrībī 575 Ghūr 192n52, 392 Ghūṭa 399n99, 406n133 Gibraltar 523 Gift lists 12, 14, 26, 44, 66, 127, 303 Gifts (Presents, cadeaux; see also Animals, Arms, Balls, Banners, Clocks, Clothes, Furs, Gems, Heads, Injibār, Jewellery,

index Manuscripts, Metals, Rugs, Porcelain, Prisoners, Slaves, Spices, Tents, Textiles) 40, 121, 129, 149, 150, 158, 214, 224, 239n15, 244, 246, 247, 248, 249, 250, 251–4, 255, 273, 282, 302, 313, 315, 351, 367, 371, 385, 388, 389, 402, 406, 427, 440, 447, 456n130, 486, 492, 493, 504, 522, 523, 533, 534, 535, 536, 537, 539, 540, 546, 558, 559, 571, 575, 590, 591, 592, 593, 598, 599, 600, 610, 611, 613, 617, 631, 632, 633, 649, 653, 654, 660n14, 668, 669, 690, 691, 692, 693, 707, 720, 726, 729, 730, 731, 732, 734, 735, 736, 831, 835, 836, 837 Gilan (al-Jīl; Kīlān) 190, 192n52, 193, 194n78, 195, 196, 197, 444 Gilli-Elewy, Hend 150 Ginger 599, 692 Giraffes 575 Giray khans 303 Góis, Damião de 722 Gold 53, 247, 274, 277, 394, 653, 662, 668, 728, 729, 737, 759 Golden Horde (see also Batu; Berke Khān; Čakrī/Çeğre Khān; Darwīsh; Edigü; Jānibeg; Kebek; Möngke Temür; Özbek; Sartaq; Tīmūr Qutlugh b. Tīmūr Malik; Töde Möngke; Toqta; Toqtamish; Ṭulunbāy; Ulaghči b. Sartaq) 38, 39, 55nn260 and 262, 148, 264, 265, 266, 269, 270, 273, 274, 275, 277, 278, 280–90, 302, 303, 304, 305, 307, 309, 312n41, 313, 315nn51 and 54, 316, 317n60, 318, 319, 322, 354, 385n29, 450–3, 835n55 Golubovich, Girolamo 25 Goneme, Brother William (Augustinian friar) 730, 732, 735, 736 Governors (Chobanids) 352 (Golden Horde) 321 (Ilkhanids) 209, 267, 273, 675 (Jalayirids) 352 (Mamluks) 30, 45n207, 49, 128, 227, 615, 647, 695n36, 730 (Mongols) 210 of Akhlāṭ 278 of Aleppo 22, 80, 82, 83, 365, 367, 369, 389, 439, 597

index of Alexandria 16, 20, 46n213, 70, 71, 72, 73, 75, 77, 78, 79, 80, 81, 82, 784, 787, 788, 789, 790 of Amman 79 of Avnīq 385, 444 of Bagdad 343, 346, 347, 352nn51 and 53, 354, 355, 356, 457n132 of Bahasnā 370, 388 of Beirut 79 of Damascus 16, 18, 46n213, 72, 73, 80, 82, 252n102, 277, 368, 370, 372, 375, 439, 440, 462, 505, 597, 784, 787, 789, 790 of Damietta 56n265, 78, 729 of Egypt 382, 728, 790 of Erzincan 441, 457n132 of Florence 701n55 of Gujarat 621 of Hama 37, 369 of Hamadan 350n41 of Khuzistan 368n24 of Kirman 454 of Malatya 384 of Maragha 350n41 of Mardin 422, 423n26 of Mosul 341 of Persian Iraq 445 of Qumis 395n76 of Ṣafad 77, 373 of Shiraz 368 of Sivas 384 of Syria 275, 450n98, 790 of Tripoli 79, 82, 239n20 Gozo 539 Granada 156, 215, 511–25, 570, 571, 714, 716, 717, 719, 720, 722 Grand Master (Hospitallers) 24, 84, 85, 731, 733, 737 Grob, Eva 219 Grohmann, Adolf 2 Guadix 516 Gujarat (see also Ẓafar Khān) 610, 611, 621, 624, 632, 634, 741 Gulbarga 608, 610 Gülek 572 Gunpowder 243, 244, 570 Gyrfalcons 692 Haarmann, Ulrich 793 al-Ḥabasha, see Ethiopia

857 Ḥāfiẓ-i Abrū 341, 381, 382n10, 385n32, 395n74, 396n83, 455 Hafsids (Hafsides; see also ʿAbd al-Muʾmīn b. Ibrāhīm; Ibn Abī ʿUmāra, Aḥmad b. Marzūq, al-Faḍl; Ibrāhīm I, Abū Isḥāq; Ibrāhīm II, Abū Isḥāq; al-Manṣūr ʿUthmān, Abū ʿAmr; Muḥammad b. Abī Bakr al-Mutawakkil al-Bijāʾī; al-Muntakhab, Abū Zakariyyāʾ Yaḥyā III b. Ibrāhīm I; alMuntaṣir Muḥammad II; al-Muntaṣir Muḥammad IV; al-Mustanṣir, Abū lʿAbbās Aḥmad II; al-Mustanṣir, Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad I b. Yaḥyā I; alMustanṣir, Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad II Abū ʿAṣīda; al-Mustanṣir, Abū Darba Muḥammad III; al-Mustanṣir, Abū Ḥafs ʿUmar II; al-Mustanṣir, Abū Isḥāq Ibrāhīm II; al-Mutawakkil, Abū Fāris ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz; al-Mutawakkil, Abū Yaḥyā Abū Bakr; alMutawakkil Muḥammad V; al-Nāṣir, Abū l-Baqāʾ Khālid I; al-Shahīd, Abū Yaḥyā Abū Bakr I b. ʿAbd al-Raḥmān; ʿUmar I, Abū Ḥafṣ; ʿUmar II, Abū Ḥafṣ; al-Wāthiq, Abū Zakariyyāʾ Yaḥyā II b. Muḥammad I; Yaḥyā I, Abū Zakariyyāʾ b. Abī Muḥammad b. ʿAbd al-Wāḥid; Yaḥyā IV b. Muḥammad al-Masʿūd, Abū Zakariyyāʾ; Zakariyyāʾ I b. Aḥmad al-Liḥyānī, Abū Yaḥyā; Zakariyyāʾ II b. Yaḥyā IV, Abū Yaḥyā) 38, 39, 156, 514, 516, 529–35, 538, 540, 541, 542, 546, 551–60 al-Ḥajjī, Ḥayāt Nāṣir 157 Ḥājjī-Taghay 352nn51 and 55 Hājjī Tarkhān (Astrakhan) 452n105 al-Ḥākim I, Abū l-ʿAbbās Aḥmad (Abbasids) 269, 270, 281, 621, 626, 632 al-Ḥalabī, Shams al-Dīn Muḥammad alḤanafī 34 al-Ḥalfāwī, Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad (Hafsid envoy) 555n114, 572, 573, 574 Ḥalqa 250, 266, 270, 274, 285, 286, 287, 288, 290, 293 Hama 36, 37, 209, 369, 390, 396, 406, 545, 808 Hamadan 265, 350n41, 392 Ḥamīd al-Dīn, Bābā (Qara Qoyunlu envoy) 457, 458, 461 al-Ḥawādith al-jāmiʿa wa-l-tajārib al-nāfiʿa fī l-miʾa al-sābiʿa (ps.-Ibn al-Fuwaṭī) 341

858 Hawks 692 Ḥamza (Ilkhanid ambassador) 294, 297 Ḥamza b. Qarā Yülük (Aq Qoyunlu) 211n151 Harar 641 Harari 813 Har-El, Shai 148 Harput Castle 253 Hartmann, M. 742, 743 Hārūn al-Rashīd (Abbasids) 614 Ḥasan b. Abī l-Munajjā, Badr al-Dīn (Rasulid envoy) 587 Ḥasan b. ʿAjlān b. Rumaytha (Sharifs of Mecca) 545, 547, 586 Ḥasan Amīn Ḥasan b. al-Asad, Badr al-Dīn (Rasulid envoy) 590 al-Ḥasan al-Sāʿī (Timurid envoy) 458n141, 461 al-Ḥasan b. Shādī b. Sunjāq (Ilkhanid envoy) 294 Ḥasan-i Buzurg (Jalayirids) 352, 353, 354 Ḥasankā (Timurid envoy) 446, 460 al-Hāshimī l-ʿAbbāsī, ʿImād al-Dīn ʿAbd alRaḥmān (Mamluk envoy) 269 Hattox, Ralph 149, 496n32 al-Hawwārī, al-Ḥasan b. Mūsā b. Muʿammar al-Ṭarābulusī (Hafsid ṣāḥib al-ʿalāma) 555 Ḥaydar (Ottoman envoy) 247 Heads 254, 329, 517 Heidemann, Stefan 381 Helmets 252, 653n59 Henry VII (England) 718 Herat 310n26, 311, 445, 446, 448, 450n98, 454, 458 Hersek, Aḥmad 567 Hetʿum (Lesser Armenia) 330–1 Hijaz 123, 151, 152, 154, 155, 189, 190, 191, 193, 195, 314, 351, 394, 582, 606, 609, 613, 614, 617, 618, 648, 652 Hill, George 735 Ḥilla 293, 341, 347, 348, 350 Hillenbrand, Carole 136 Ḥimyar 671 Hinawr 627 Hind, see India Hirschler, Konrad 7 Ḥiṣn Kayfā 38, 39, 209, 459n143 Ḥiṣn Manṣūr (Adıyaman) 457

index Hispanus, Maurus (Portuguese envoy) 720 Holt, Peter M. 136, 144, 333, 745 Holy cities/sites Baghdad 348 Christian 123, 130 Jerusalem 714 Muslim 135, 151, 154, 155, 238, 247, 272, 351, 583, 678, 698 Najaf 342 Shiite 350 Holy Land 25, 130, 140, 145, 146, 642, 685 Holy Roman Empire, see Frederick II Homs 333, 390, 396, 406, 534, 585 Honey 689 Honfleur 717 Honoraria 254 Hopkins, Antony 673 Horns 243, 599 Horses (chevaux; see also Donkeys, Mules) 247, 251, 254, 310, 321, 365, 366, 367, 369, 373, 394, 396, 400n104, 401, 406, 454, 539, 559, 590, 592, 614, 632, 653n59, 692n29, 714, 728 Hospitallers of Rhodes (see also Milly, James de; Orsini, Gianbattista) 24, 84, 85, 138, 536, 731, 733, 737, 759 Hourani, Albert 346 Housley, Norman 136 Huércal 516 Hülegü (Ilkhanids) 256n135, 306–16, 322, 327, 328, 329, 342, 343, 344, 352n51, 532, 541 Ḥumayḍa b. Abī Numayy (Sharifs of Mecca) 544, 545, 546n83 Humbert, Geneviève 48, 49 Humphreys, Stephen 136 Hungary (see also Corvinos, Mathias) 686 Hungarians 570 Hunūr 632 Ḥusayn b. Shaykh Uways (Jalayirids) 357, 364, 366 Ḥusayn b. ʿAlī b. Shams al-Dīn, Sharaf al-Dīn (Abbasids) 812 Ḥusayn b. Ṣārū, Ḥusām al-Dīn (Mamluk envoy) 268n25, 286 Ibn al-Abbār, Muḥammad b. ʿAbdallāh b. Abī Bakr al-Quḍāʿī l-Balansī (Hafsid ṣāḥib alʿalāma) 548, 554

index Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir 11n54, 27n128, 281n84, 305, 311, 312, 317, 320, 533, 593, 639, 642, 648, 652, 654 Ibn Abī ʿAmr al-Tamīmī, ʿAlī b. Ibrāhīm (Hafsid ṣāḥib al-ʿalāma) 556 Ibn Abī ʿAmr al-Tamīmī, Muḥammad b. Muḥammad (Hafsid ṣāḥib al-ʿalāma) 556 Ibn Abī Dīnār 575 Ibn Abī l-Faḍāʾil 305, 306, 621, 626 Ibn Abī Ghudda, Najm al-Dīn Muḥammad b. al-Qalqashandī 34 Ibn Abī l-Qāsim, Majd al-Dīn (Rasulid envoy) 587 Ibn Abī l-Shawārib, Shams al-Dīn Muḥammad (Mamluk envoy) 283 Ibn Abī ʿUmāra, Aḥmad b. Marzūq, al-Faḍl (Hafsids, usurper) 535, 555, 557 Ibn Abī Zayd al-Qayrāwānī 673 Ibn al-Aḥmar, Abū Walīd Ismāʿīl 513, 547 Ibn Akhī Abkār (Golden Horde envoy) 285 Ibn al-Anṣārī, Abū l-Qāsim Aḥmad b. Yaḥyā b. Muḥammad b. Asad (Hafsid ṣāḥib alʿalāma) 555 Ibn ʿArabshāh 131, 250n95, 371n45, 390n49, 392, 393, 395n75 Ibn al-Athīr, Majd al-Dīn 347 Ibn Aybak al-Dawādārī 282n94, 305, 306 Ibn ʿAzīz al-Kurdī, Badr al-Dīn (Mamluk envoy) 282 Ibn al-Bārizī, Kamāl al-Dīn 215 Ibn al-Bārizī, Nāṣir al-Dīn 8, 9, 438, 439 Ibn Baṭṭūṭa 130, 321, 347n29, 351, 621, 826 Ibn al-Baylaqānī, Muḥyī l-Dīn (Rasulid envoy) 587, 589n24 Ibn al-Baylaqānī, Tāj al-Dīn (Rasulid envoy) 587 Ibn Burhān al-Muḥtasib, Sharaf al-Dīn (Mamluk envoy) 458n139, 461 Ibn Būz, Asad al-Dīn Muḥammad (Rasulid envoy) 587, 590 Ibn al-Dabbāgh al-Ishbīlī, Abū l-Ḥasan Muḥammad b. Ibrāhīm 556 Ibn al-Dāya, Shujāʿ al-Dīn (Mamluk envoy) 281 Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, Aḥmad 28n132, 29, 30, 36n171, 126, 188, 189, 190, 191, 193,

859 198, 219, 220n17, 518, 549, 552, 553, 592, 621, 639, 658, 660n14, 661, 674, 675, 676, 677, 678 Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, ʿAlī 28n132, 674, 675, 676 Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī, Yaḥyā 28n132, 29 Ibn Fahd, ʿIzz al-Dīn 616 Ibn Fahd, Najm al-Dīn 607, 609, 612, 617 Ibn al-Faqīh, Muḥammad (Nasrid envoy) 523 Ibn al-Farrāʾ 111 Ibn al-Furāt 27n128, 305, 329 Ibn Furṭū, Aḥmad 660n13, 671 Ibn al-Fuwaṭī 341 Ibn al-Fuwaṭī (Pseudo-) 343, 344 Ibn al-Ghāzī l-Qusantīnī, Abū Zayd ʿAbd alRaḥmān b. Muḥammad (Hafsid ṣāḥib al-ʿalāma) 556 Ibn Ḥababar, Abū l-Ḥusayn Yaḥyā b. ʿAbd alMalik al-Ghāfiqī l-Tūnisī (Hafsid ṣāḥib al-ʿalāma) 555 Ibn Ḥajar al-ʿAsqalānī 8n34, 10, 251n97, 500, 591, 618 Ibn al-Ḥajar, Muḥammad b. Qāsim 557 Ibn al-Ḥājj al-Numayrī, Ibrāhīm b. ʿAbdallāh b. Ibrāhīm (Hafsid ṣāḥib al-ʿalāma) 556 Ibn al-Ḥanbalī 35 Ibn Ḥijja 9, 37, 38, 39, 55nn260 and 262, 126, 423, 426n30, 438, 439, 440, 442, 443n65, 452, 456, 457, 459, 462, 552, 621, 635 Ibn al-Ḥimṣī 247 Ibn ʿIdhārī 513 Ibn Iyās 241, 244, 485, 487, 502, 503, 524, 550, 567, 573, 638, 649, 654, 719, 794, 834 Ibn al-Jalāʾ al-Bijāʾī, Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad b. Muḥammad (Hafsid ṣāḥib alʿalāma) 554 Ibn al-Jazzār, Masʿūd b. Muḥammad b. ʿAlī al-Salawī (Hafsid ṣāḥib al-ʿalāma) 557 Ibn Kammūna 347 Ibn Kathīr 305 Ibn al-Kāzarūnī 341 Ibn al-Khabbāz al-Lawātī l-Mahdawī, Abū l-Faḍl b. Muḥammad b. ʿAlī 555 Ibn Khaldūn, ʿAbd al-Raḥmān 151, 513, 537, 538, 540, 543, 545, 548, 551, 556, 558

860 Ibn Khaldūn, Yaḥyā 534 Ibn Khamīs al-Tilimsānī 511 Ibn al-Khaṭīb, Lisān al-Dīn 512, 514, 518, 519 Ibn Khaṭṭāb al-Mursī, Abū Bakr Muḥammad 511 Ibn al-Khuṭabāʾ, Fatḥ al-Dīn ʿUmar b. Muḥammad (Rasulid envoy) 588, 589n24, 595, 596 Ibn Maḥfūẓ, Muḥammad (Mamluk envoy) 787, 792 Ibn al-Mākisānī (Rasulid envoy) 587 Ibn Manẓūr, Muḥammad b. al-Mukarram 9n42, 36n171, 37n172 Ibn Muʾmin, Jamāl al-Dīn Muḥammad (Rasulid envoy) 587, 589n24 Ibn Munqidh 558 Ibn Nāẓir al-Jaysh 28n132, 30, 126, 189, 219, 500, 552, 701 Ibn Nubāta 131 Ibn Qabīb, Abū l-ʿAbbās Aḥmad b. ʿAlī (Rasulid envoy) 588, 589n24 Ibn al-Qābūnī 241n38 Ibn Qāḍī Shuhba 383 Ibn al-Qāʾid al-Kalāʿī, Abū l-Qāsim b. ʿAbd al-Wahhāb (Hafsid ṣāḥib al-ʿalāma) 555 Ibn Qalīl al-Hamm, ʿUmar b. Aḥmad (Hafsid ṣāḥib al-ʿalāma) 557 Ibn al-Qalqashandī, Najm al-Dīn Muḥammad (see also Ibn Abī Ghudda) 34, 126 Ibn Qaramān (Mamluk envoy) 252 Ibn Qazvīnī l-Shāfiʿī, Nāṣir al-Dīn Muḥammad (Ilkhanid envoy) 294 Ibn Qunfudh 531n11 Ibn Sabʿīn 533, 542, 558 Ibn al-Ṣayrafī 254, 523, 650 Ibn Sayyidihim al-Lakhmī l-Ishbīlī, Abū ʿAmr Aḥmad b. Malik (Hafsid ṣāḥib al-ʿalāma) 554 Ibn Shaddād 305, 306, 531n15 Ibn al-Sukkarī, Kamāl al-Dīn (Mamluk envoy) 293 Ibn Taghrī Birdī 245, 250, 364, 370, 373, 485, 500n43, 503, 523, 608, 609, 610, 612, 726, 731, 732, 734, 735 Ibn Taymiyya 131, 132, 135, 392 Ibn al-Taytī l-Āmidī, Shams al-Dīn Muḥammad 271n38, 276, 267, 291, 292 Ibn al-Ṭiqṭaqā 341

index Ibn al-Yamanī, Nāṣir al-Dīn Muḥammad (Mamluk envoy) 285 Ibn Ẓāhir, Yūsuf b. Muḥammad 628 Ibn Ẓahīra, Burhān al-Dīn Ibrāhīm 607, 612 Ibn al-Zaman, Shams al-Dīn 612 Ibn Zunbūr, ʿAlam al-Dīn 599 Ibrāhīm I, Abū Isḥāq (Hafsids) 555 Ibrāhīm II, Abū Isḥāq (Hafsids) 548, 552, 556 Ibrāhīm al-Dimyāṭī (Mamluk envoy) 646 Ibrāhīm, Muḥammad ʿAbd al-Raḥmān 31 Ibrāhīm b. Muḥammad b. Rushayd (Hafsid ṣāḥib al-ʿalāma) 555 Ibrāhīm b. Qarā ʿUthmān (Aq Qoyunlu) 393 ʿĪd al-Aḍḥā 249, 705 ʿĪd al-Fiṭr 503 Idrīs b. ʿAlī (Borno) 671, 672 Idrīs b. Muḥammad (Borno envoy) 668 Idrīs b. Qatāda (Sharifs of Mecca) 543 Īfāt 641, 645 Ifrīqiya (Tunisia) 190, 194, 195, 209, 210, 529, 530, 533, 535, 536, 537, 539, 541, 552, 553, 574, 575, 676, 678 Ikhwāniyyāt 30n138, 34, 35, 36n169, 48n217 al-Ilāqī, Alāʾ al-Dīn Kundughdī (Mamluk envoy) 285 Īlchī, see Ambassadors, Emissaries, Envoys Ilke Noyan 342n8 Ilkhanids (Ilkhanides; see also Abagha; Abū Saʿīd; Arpa; Baidu; Choban; Ghāzān; Hülegü; Muḥammad b. Yolqutluq; Mūsā Khān b. ʿAlī b. Baydu; Öljeitü, Muḥammad Khudābanda; Tegüder Aḥmad) 134, 135, 136, 148, 150, 151, 209, 211, 264, 265, 267, 269, 270, 271, 273, 275, 276, 278, 279, 287, 291–7, 312, 318, 321n83, 327, 331, 337, 340, 341, 342, 343, 344, 346, 347n28, 350, 351, 354, 356, 357, 363, 364, 426n28, 499, 542, 544, 545, 675, 758 Īltutmish (Delhi sultans) 623, 624, 631 Imbros 733 Īnālbāy b. Qajmās 372 İnalcık, Halil 484, 492n24, 499 ʿInān b. Mughāmis b. Rumaytha (Sharifs of Mecca) 546 Incense 692 Inceptive letters (Ibtidāʾāt) 51, 423

index India (Hind) 123, 154, 155, 190, 192, 193, 194, 195, 196, 197, 209, 210, 239, 241, 246, 253, 392, 394n72, 396n83, 406n135, 582, 604, 605, 610, 614, 615, 616, 617, 621, 624, 626, 627, 631–5, 718, 741 Indian Ocean 144, 240, 582, 600, 688, 720 Infidels (Kuffār) 113, 194, 222n24, 238, 334, 335, 346, 351, 384n26, 459n142, 517, 519, 570, 583, 629, 630, 699, 702, 721, 728 Injibār 522 Inks 27, 37, 38, 53, 60, 126, 199, 223, 410, 417, 493, 521, 694, 791 Innocent VIII (pope) 719 Inscriptio (ʿUnwān) 199, 426, 428, 487, 489, 490, 491, 492, 493, 494, 495, 496, 497, 502 Inshāʾ 28, 51 Inshāʾ literature 44, 108, 119–21, 185, 186, 187, 188, 198, 219n14, 304, 323 Instructions (Taḏkira) 13, 23, 26, 44, 48, 66, 687 Intelligence (see also Espionage, Spies) 332, 741 Intermediaries 111, 128, 309, 320, 322, 582, 719 Interpreters (see also Dragomans, Translators) 57, 125, 318, 651, 661, 690, 702, 727, 728, 729, 732 Intitulatio 42, 199, 489n14, 492n24, 494 Invocatio, see Duʿāʾ Iqtibās 51 Iran 61n276, 190n32, 192, 193, 194, 195, 196, 197, 209, 210, 246n77, 308, 340n1, 346, 363, 443n65, 830 Iranians 248, 392 Iraq 151, 196, 209, 210, 310, 340, 341, 342, 343, 347nn27 and 29, 349, 350, 352, 363, 368, 371, 373, 437n49, 621 Arab (ʿIrāq-i ʿArab) 363, 372, 441, 444, 450, 457n131, 505 northern 246n77 Persian (ʿIrāq-i ʿAjam) 441, 444, 445, 447n85, 457n131, 463, 505 southern 340, 351 ʿIrāq-i ʿAjam, see Iraq ʿIrāq-i ʿArab, see Iraq Irwin, Robert 136 ʿĪsā (Abyssinian envoy) 650, 651, 653 Isabella (Aragon) 722

861 Isabella I (Castile) 720, 721n45 Isfahan 392, 434, 440, 441, 442, 445 Īsiya Bīgī 449 Iskandar b. Qarā Yūsuf (Qara Qoyunlu) 152, 421n20, 422n21, 425, 426, 427, 428n36, 436n43, 441n60, 443n65, 449n96 Iskandar, Tawfīq 19 Iskandar b. ʿUmar Shaykh (Timurids) 445 Ismāʿīl II (Nasrids) 519 Ismāʿīl al-Sallāmī, Majd al-Dīn 273, 293 Ismāʿīlīs (Ismailites) (see also NizārīIsmāʿīlīs) 328, 621 al-Iṣṭakhrī 187 Istanbul 22, 244n62, 253, 505, 568, 569, 573, 746 Başbakanlık Arşivi 22 Ītalghī (Golden Horde envoy) 287 Italy 16, 124, 662, 787, 792 Iyasu, see ʿĪsā (Abyssinian envoy) Jaʿba (Tube, Case for documents; see also Quivers) 55n263, 215, 216, 227, 522 Jābir b. ʿAbdallāh al-Anṣārī 630 Jacob the Frank (Cypriot envoy) 734 Jacobite patriarch 223n26, 638, 639, 646, 652 al-Jādda al-kubrā 529 Jaén 701, 720 Jahāngīr (Dhulqadirids) 240n30 Jahāngīr b. Tīmūr (Timurids) 448 Jahānshāh b. Chākū Barlās (Timurids) 393, 406n137 Jahānshāh b. Qarā Yūsuf (Qara Qoyunlu) 153, 421n18, 422n21, 423n24, 437n49, 456n127 Jahānshāh b. Tīmūr (Timurids) 448 Jakam 373, 375 Jakībān, Saʿd al-Dīn 350 Jalabī (Çelebi), ʿAlī 550 Jalayirids (Jalayirides; see also Dilshād Khātūn; Ḥasan-i Buzurg; Ḥusayn b. Shaykh Uways; Shaykh Uways; Sulṭān Aḥmad b. Shaykh Uways; Sulṭān Dilshād; Sulṭān Ṭāhir b. Sulṭān Aḥmad) 150, 210, 352, 355, 356, 357, 358, 364, 365, 366, 367, 371, 373, 374, 375, 444, 447, 448n88, 545, 675, 678 Jalāl al-Dīn 343

862 Jalāl al-Dīn b. Qāḍī Tūqāt (Golden Horde envoy) 280, 281n84, 317, 319 Jalāl al-Islām 396n83, 402n115 al-Jamdānī, Ibrāhīm (Mamluk envoy) 290 Jamdār 264n7, 319 James I (Aragon) 517 James II (Aragon) 11, 12, 66–9, 699 James II (Cyprus) 25, 730–8 al-Janadī 593 Jānibak al-Ẓāhirī 605, 607–13, 618, 734, 735, 736 Jānibak Ḥabīb 486 Jānibeg (Golden Horde) 354 Janus (Cyprus) 725–7, 735 Jarkas al-Sayfī (Mamluk envoy) 290 al-Jatā, see Jetes Java, see Jawāt Jawāb, see Answers Jawād, Musṭafā 341 Jāwāt (Java) 627 Jawnpur 610, 634 al-Jāzānī, Aḥmad 618 Jazira 343, 823 al-Jazīra al-Furātiyya 192n52 Jazīrat al-ʿArab (see also Arabia) 192, 193, 194, 196, 197 Jedda 582, 605, 606, 607, 609, 611, 613, 615, 616, 617, 618 Jerusalem (Jérusalem, al-Quds) 66n277, 277, 311n36, 390n50, 405n128, 495n32, 522, 524, 608, 640, 642–50, 652, 694, 698, 711, 712, 714, 717, 718, 719, 720, 723, 809, 815 Archives of the Custody of the Holy Land 25 Cave of David 647 Church of the Resurrection 524, 719, 720 Holy Sepulchre 56n265, 640, 647n29, 719, 720, 721, 723 Mary’s tomb 647 Musée national 809, 815 Jetes (al-Jatā) 392 Jewellery, see beads, gems, gold, rings Jews 347, 719, 721, 722, 723, 765, (converted) 727, (Sicilian) 729 Jibāl al-Barbar 190, 192 Jihād (see also War) 106, 112, 113–21, 122, 131, 132, 133, 134, 136, 137, 138, 139, 146,

index 188n12, 306, 308, 335, 458, 515, 516, 519, 523, 533, 534, 540, 593, 627, 630, 633 Jihat Ṣalāḥ 589 al-Jīl, see Gilan Jingdezhen 825, 830 al-Jītīn 369 Jizya 114, 706 Joanna I (Naples) 25, 85 Jöchids (see also Golden Horde) 302–23, 450, 451, 452 John I (Aragon) 72 John I (Portugal) 714 John II (Cyprus) 84, 496n33, 726–30 John II (Portugal) 715 John III (Portugal) 722 John VI Kantakouzenos (Byzantium) 27n128 Judges 31, 71, 72, 77, 123, 269, 270, 271, 277, 280n84, 281, 287, 291, 292, 293, 294, 388, 457, 458, 459n142, 503, 511, 522, 523, 568, 572, 574, 607, 611, 612, 625, 696, 687, 699, 701n58 Julbān 573 Julbān Qarāsaqal 365 Julius II (pope) 721 Junayd, Sayf al-Dīn (Mamluk envoy) 539, 559 Jundīshāpūr 392 Jurjan 355 Jus ad bellum 115 Jus in bello 115 Juvaynī, ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn 343, 344, 345, 346, 348, 349 Juvaynī, Shams al-Dīn 344 Jūzjānī, Minhāj al-Dīn 623 Kaʿba 151, 250, 533, 545, 546, 618 Kāfūr Khalīfatī, Khwāja (Abbasid envoy) 632, 634 Kahta 384, 387n39 al-Kakhtawī, Abū Bakr 238 Kalus, Ludvik xiii, 55n259, 159 al-Kāmil I (Ayyubids) 754 al-Kāmil Shaʿbān I (Mamluks) 69, 70, 810, 811 Kanʿān 390n49, 406n137 Kanem 190n39, 192, 196, 197, 209, 210, 659n11, 660, 661, 677

index Kanuri poet 677 Karak 390n50 Karateke, Hakan 498, 499, 500, 501 Karay (Golden Horde envoy) 287 Karbala 365, 367 Kārim 591 Karīm al-Dīn al-Kabīr 273 al-Kārimī, ʿAbd al-Raḥmān (Abyssian envoy) 651, 653 Kārimīs 594, 650 al-Karkhī, Shaykh Maʿrūf 345 al-Kāshgharī 131 Kashmir (see also Zayn al-ʿĀbidīn Shāhī Khān) 611, 627 Kātib Çelebī 33 Kātib al-darj 30 Kātib al-dast 559 Kātib al-sirr 216n7, 486, 549, 624, 690n20 Kawlam 627, 632 Kaykāʾūs I, ʿIzz al-Dīn (Seljuqs) 307 Kchir, Khaled 156 Kebek (Golden Horde) 451 Kefken 321 Kemal Reis 571, 575 Kerslake, Celia J. 41 Kerynia 726, 733, 734, 735, 736 Kessler, Christel 608 Keys (Fortresses) 252n106, 253, 395, 405, 574 al-Khabīr, Abū l-Ḥasan Yaḥyā b. Abī Marwān al-Andalusī l-Ḥimyarī 555 Khāʾir Bāy 83 al-Khālidī 33 Kh.l.f, Ḥājjī (Abbasid envoy) 632 Khalīl Sulṭān b. Mīrānshāh (Timurids) 403, 404, 406 Khaljis 623 Kharāj 119 K. al-Kharāj wa-ṣināʿat al-kitāba (Qudāma b. Jaʿfar) 186 al-Kharrūbī, Zakī l-Dīn 595, 596 Khartabirt 253 Khātam, see Seals Khawātim (Eschatocol) 50, 199, 423, 426, 438, 494 Khiḍr Khān (Delhi sultans) 634 Khilʿa, see Robes of honor Khirokitia 725, 727 Khitay 192n53, 196

863 Khojand 392 Khuḍayr, Niẓām al-Dīn (Rasulid envoy) 588 al-Khūlī, Amīn 148 Khurasan 190n32, 192n52, 194n78, 196, 197, 248, 311n36, 392, 434, 442 Khusraw Khān, Nāṣir al-Dīn (Delhi sultans, usurper) 623 Khuṭba 202, 208, 252, 355, 364, 373, 390, 398, 402n115, 533, 535, 542, 543, 544, 545, 626 Khuzistan 192, 368n24, 392 Khwāndamīr 341 Khwarizm 52n244, 190n32, 192n53, 194n78, 196, 197, 265, 268, 309, 392, 754 Khwarizmshahs (see also Mangūbirtī, Jalāl al-Dīn) 41n193, 52n244, 264, 265, 268, 308, 309, 312, 319, 322, 385 Kīlān, see Gilan Kirman 192n52, 194n78, 196, 197, 251, 392, 454n120 Kissing 221, 249, 365, 486, 487, 488, 489, 491, 493, 503, 690, 691, 727, 731 Kiswa 151, 250, 251, 533, 543, 545, 618 Kitāb-i Diyārbakriyye (Ṭihrānī) 393 Kitbughā Noyan 308, 332 Koechlin 818 Koestler, Arthur 218 Köhler, Michael 136 Kollatz, Anna 155 Konya 42, 310n30 Korkud (Ottomans) 244 Korkut, Besim 21 Korobeinikov, Dimitri A. 146 Köse Dagh 310 Kufa 350 Kūhmā Qarājil 632 Kūkūdiyya (Ilkhanid envoy) 297 Kūkūya (Ilkhanid envoy) 297 Kurjistān, see Georgia Kusharbak, Sayf al-Dīn (Mamluk envoy) 265, 268, 281, 319 Kütahya 370 Labīda (Lubayda) b. Abī Numayy (Sharifs of Mecca) 544, 545, 546 Lājīn al-Ḥamawī l-Barīdī (Mamluk envoy) 290 Lājīn, Ḥusām al-Dīn 277n66

864 Lake Chad 659, 660, 661, 666, 669, 677, 678 Lake Van 306 Lakhnawtī 632 Lambton, A. 345 Lances 246, 247, 653n59 Languages 7, 9, 47, 51, 52, 56, 57, 60, 119, 264, 265, 266, 305, 318, 319, 323, 489, 498, 715, 718 Arabic 52n243–4, 188n14, 315, 317, 347n29, 490, 652, 662, 703, 718 Berber 188n14 European 188n14, 702 Ge’ez 651 Greek 56, 188n14, 281 Italian 703, 704, 707 Latin 52, 57, 702, 704, 707 Mongol 52, 315 Persian 52, 188n14, 315, 423 Portuguese 718 Qipchaq 316 Sudanese 188n14 Turkish 52, 188n14, 315, 317, 490, 728 Languedoc 22 Latham, J. 513 Latin(s) 647, 723 archbishop of Nicosia 730, 735 bishop of Imbros 733 Empire 313 states 685 West 123 Law 6, 113, 116, 118, 188, 193, 218, 249, 263, 270, 319, 346, 357, 487, 488, 617, 630, 631, 635, 639, 698, 713 Islamic International 106, 109, 112, 117, 697 of war 112 Roman 748, 749, 763 schools of 116, 123 siyar 115, 117 Layout 15, 26, 47, 50, 61, 199, 201, 207, 221, 223, 224, 437 Lead 662 Legitimacy 105, 121, 122, 128, 131, 132, 134, 147, 150, 159, 304, 307, 313, 316, 322, 340, 341, 347, 356, 495, 574, 582, 596, 597, 626, 670, 671, 678, 737 Le Maire de Belges, Jean 23 Lemon 227, 834 Lengherand, Georges 642, 651, 652

index Leo Africanus 763, 764 Lesser Armenia (see Cilician Armenia) Letters of credence 44 Levant 136, 140, 141, 264n5, 685, 686, 703, 720, 743n9 Levtzion, Nehemia 673 Lewicka, Paulina 834 Lewon (Lesser Armenia) 272n44 Liability, see Dhimma Libya 662 Lingua franca 52n246, 54, 60, 125, 199, 207, 226, 491 Lions 253 Lisbon (Lishbūna) 39, 145, 711–20 Lithuania 303, 385n29 Livorno 782 Lōdīs 634 Loiseau, Julien 147 Lomellini, Napoleone 737 Londres, British Museum 811, 816 Victoria and Albert Museum 808, 815, 817, 818 Longquan 825, 829 Lopes de Barros, Maria Filomena 145 Lopez de Baldaia 737 López de Carvajal, Bernardino 720 Loredan, Bernardo (Venetian envoy) 56n265, 82 Lorenzo de’ Medici (Florence) 73–5, 784, 835 Lornes, John de 731 Louis (Cyprus) 25, 726, 731 Louis IX (France) 531, 532n19, 533, 541 Louis XI (France) 84, 717 Louis XII (France) 23, 84 Louis XIV (France) 643 Lubayda, see Labīda Lūr 392 Lusignan (see also Cyprus) 23, 138, 139, 725, 733, 738 Lydon, Ghislaine 661 Lynx 247, 486, 493 Maʾāthir al-ināfa fī maʿālim al-khilāfa (alQalqashandī) 32 Maʿbar 627 Madrasas (schools) (see also Baghdad, Cairo, Damascus, Mecca) (Aden) 589

index (Baghdad) 346 (Cairo) 123 (India) 633 (Taiz) 589 Madrid, National Library 521 Mādūk-n 610 Mafamede (Muḥammad) de Avis (Portuguese envoy) 714 Maghrib (Maghreb) 156, 512, 514, 515, 517, 529, 530, 531, 537, 539, 540, 542, 545, 551, 552, 658, 663, 669, 670, 675, 678, 764 Maghribī 664 al-Maḥallī, Burhān al-Dīn (Rasulid envoy) 586, 588, 591, 596 Maḥmūd (Maydūma) 611 Maḥmūd Shāh (Malwa) 604–18 Maḥmūd Shāh, Begŕā (Cambay) 610 Mājār b. Ighān (Mamluk envoy) 289 Makhzumids 641 Makram (Makran) 392 Malaga 516, 522, 523, 570, 763 al-Malaṭī, Rukn al-Dīn (Mamluk envoy) 626 Malatya 383, 384, 385n30, 386, 387n39 Mali (see also Takrūr; Mansā Mūsā) 157, 194, 195, 196, 197, 209, 210, 658, 660n14, 669, 674–8 Malik Ashraf (Chobanids) 353, 354 Malik Hizārgarī, ʿIzz al-Dīn 395 Malik Sunbul al-Sulṭānī (Malwa envoy) 606, 607 Malipiero, Pasquale (Venice) 836 Malta 24 Malwa (Malāwah; see also Ghiyāth al-Dīn Shāh; Maḥmūd Shāh) 39, 604, 605, 606, 607, 608, 610, 611, 612, 613, 614, 616, 617, 618, 632 al-Maʾman 345 Māmāy al-Khāṣṣakī 574 Mamlakat al-Almān, see Germany Mamluks, see al-Ashraf Barsbāy; al-Ashraf Īnāl; al-Ashraf Khalīl b. Qalāwūn; alAshraf Qānṣawh al-Ghawrī; al-Ashraf Qāytbāy; al-Ashraf Shaʿbān II; al-Ashraf Ṭūmān Bāy; Berke Khān b. Baybars; alKāmil Shaʿbān I; al-Manṣūr Abū Bakr; al-Manṣūr ʿAlī II; al-Manṣūr Muḥammad II; al-Manṣūr Qalāwūn; al-Manṣūr ʿUth-

865 mān b. Jaqmaq; al-Muʾayyad Aḥmad III; al-Muʾayyad Shaykh; al-Muʿizz Aybak; al-Muẓaffar Aḥmad II; al-Muẓaffar Baybars II al-Jāshnakīr; al-Muẓaffar Quṭuz; al-Nāṣir Faraj; al-Nāṣir Ḥasan; al-Nāṣir Muḥammad I; al-Nāṣir Muḥammad IV; al-Ṣāliḥ Ḥājjī II; al-Ṣāliḥ Ismāʿīl; alṢāliḥ Ṣāliḥ; al-Ẓāhir Barqūq; al-Ẓāhir Jaqmaq; al-Ẓāhir Khushqadam; al-Ẓāhir Ṭaṭar; al-Ẓāhir Timurbughā; al-Ẓāhir Yalbāy Mandu (Mandāwa, Maydūma) 604, 610, 611, 618 Manghūsh (Golden Horde envoy) 284, 285, 286, 287 Manglī Khwāja (Timurids) 404 Mangūbirtī, Jalāl al-Dīn (Khwarizmshahs) 265 Manjanīq 388, 402, 403 Manklī Bughā (Mamluk envoy) 290 Mansā Mūsā (Mali) 658, 660n14, 667, 677, 678 Mansouri, Mohammad 146 al-Manṣūr (Abbasids) 614 al-Manṣūr Abū Bakr (Mamluks) 353n57 al-Manṣūr, Abū Yūsuf Yaʿqūb (Almohads) 531, 557, 558, 661 al-Manṣūr ʿAlī II (Mamluks) 71, 76 al-Manṣūr Muḥammad II (Mamluks) 70, 77, 519, 811 al-Manṣūr Qalāwūn (Mamluks) 11, 12n54, 24, 77, 557, 585, 643, 706 al-Manṣūr ʿUmar b. ʿAlī b. Rasūl (Rasulids) 543, 582, 585 al-Manṣūr ʿUthmān, Abū ʿAmr (Hafsids) 538, 540, 550, 551, 552, 553, 557, 558, 559, 560, 566, 568, 569, 570, 571, 572 al-Manṣūr ʿUthmān b. Jaqmaq (Mamluks) 79 al-Manṣūr II Muḥammad (Ayyubids of Hama) 532n19 al-Manṣūra 308 Manuel I (Portugal) 718, 719n36, 721, 722, 723 al-Manūfī, Badr al-Dīn Abū l-Fatḥ 617 Manuscripts 248, 613, 618, 643, 662 Manz, Beatrice 448 al-Maqqarī 27n128, 515, 519

866 al-Maqrīzī 8n34, 9, 10, 27n128, 31n140, 126n82, 241n34, 305, 341, 357, 364, 365, 383, 410, 411, 416, 417, 418, 420, 436, 437, 443, 453, 462, 500n43, 523, 545n79, 547, 600, 618, 621, 625, 646, 647, 658, 806, 834 al-Maqṣid al-rafīʿ al-munshaʾ al-hādī ilā ṣināʿat al-inshāʾ, see al-Thaghr albāsim Maʿr 632 Maragha 350n41 Marble slab 720 Marco Polo 312n40, 593 Marcos IV (patriarch) 642 Mardānshāh (Qara Qoyunlu envoy) 447, 460 Mardin 271n38, 276, 291n152, 335 Maria (Aragon) 721, 722 Marin, Carlo Antonio 21 Marino, Rizzo di 736 Marj Dābiq 766 Marjān, Khwāja 353, 357 Marrakesh 514 Marriages/Weddings 127, 147, 150, 243n58, 277, 279, 282, 287, 296, 366, 374, 455, 463, 704n62, 721, 722, 823 Marseilles 22, 145 Martin I (Aragon) 72, 73 Marwa 612 Masālik al-abṣār fī mamālik al-amṣār (Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī) 189 Masfarma ʿUmar b. ʿUthmān 661 Mashrūḥ al-khulafāʾ wa-manẓūr al-umarāʾ (Yūsuf b. Muḥammad b. Ẓāhir) 628 Masīla (M’sila) 535 Mas Latrie, Louis de 19, 23, 24 Mas Latrie, René de 730 Masʿā 608, 612 al-Masʿūd (Ayyubids of Yemen) 582 Masʿūd II, Ghiyāth al-Dīn (Seljuqs) 271, 291 Masʿūd Shāh, ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn (Delhi sultans) 624 al-Masʿūdī, Fāris al-Dīn Āqqūsh al-Asadī (Mamluk envoy) 266, 281 Matariyya 694 Maṭlaʿ-i saʿdayn va-majmaʿ-i baḥrayn (ʿAbd al-Razzāq Samarqandī) 382 Matn (Text) 50, 199, 423, 426, 436, 490

index Mauritania 658n3, 661 Mauro, Fr. 720, 721 Mā Warāʾ al-Nahr, see Transoxiana al-Māwardī 621 al-Mawṣilī, ʿAlī b. Ḥusayn b. Muḥammad 592 al-Mawṣilī, Ḥusayn b. Aḥmad b. Ḥusayn 592 al-Mawṣilī, Mūsā b. al-Ḥasan 35, 584, 597 Mawṣilī, Quṭb al-Dīn (Ilkhanid envoy) 292 Mayyāfāriqīn 275 Mazandaran 192n52, 392 Mecca (La Mecque; see also Abū l-Ghayth b. Abī Numayy; Aḥmad b. Ḥasan b. ʿAjlān; ʿAjlān b. Rumaytha; ʿAlī b. ʿInān b. Mughāmis b. Rumaytha; Barakāt b. Ḥasan b. ʿAjlān; Ḥasan b. ʿAjlān b. Rumaytha; Ḥumayḍa b. Abī Numayy; Idrīs b. Qatāda; ʿInān b. Mughāmis b. Rumaytha; Labīda (Lubayda) b. Abī Numayy; Muḥammad b. Barakāt; Muqbil b. Nakhbār; Rumaytha b. Abī Numayy; Thaqaba b. Rumaytha; ʿUṭayfa b. Abī Numayy) 241n34, 244, 252n105, 277, 311n36, 351, 522, 524, 533, 534, 536, 539, 541, 542, 543, 544, 545, 546, 547, 553, 582, 586, 589, 604– 18, 649, 658, 660, 667, 668, 678, 698, 721 Bāb al-Malāʿiba 606 Bāb al-Ṣafā 608 Bāb al-Salām 616 Bāb Umm Hāniʾ 606, 607, 608, 616 Bāb al-ʿUmra 608 Bayt Umm Hāniʾ 606, 607, 616 Ḥaram Mosque 606, 607, 608, 611 al-Madrasa al-Banjaliyya 608 Madrasa of Cambay 611 Madrasa of Maḥmūd Shāh/al-Khaljiyya/ al-Mandawiyya 606, 607, 608, 610, 613, 616 Meccans 297 Medici 15 Medina (Médine) 311n36, 608, 611, 641, 698 Mediterranean 15, 19, 22, 23, 226, 238, 240, 242, 256, 406n137, 484, 495, 571, 574, 685, 686, 696, 702, 703, 707, 711, 715, 716, 719, 722, 723, 741, 763, 765, 768, 782, 823, 824, 827

index Mediterranean states 581 Meḥmed I (Ottomans) 438, 450, 459 Meḥmed II (Ottomans) 22, 83, 246, 253, 421, 422n21, 428n33, 434n42, 437n49, 484– 9, 493n26, 495, 496, 497, 498, 502, 501, 502, 503, 504, 505, 730, 760 Meloy, John L. 39n181, 154, 155 Melville, Charles 342 Melvin-Koushki, Matthew 153, 490, 491 Ménage, Victor Louis 2 Menorca 514 Mercantile activities 595–596 cities 145 communities 118, 159 elite 600 networks 593–6, 598, 600 powers 124, 134, 139, 140, 143–5, 788 system of galleys 782 Merchants (marchands; see also Traders) 45, 46n211, 118, 122, 124, 137, 144, 239, 264, 272, 273, 274, 275, 278, 318, 320, 344, 346, 440, 452, 453, 543, 600, 615, 618, 650, 749, 751, 752, 762, 765, 787, 788 Abyssinian 652, 653 Alan 280, 306 Andalusi 521 Baghdadi 349 Cairene 595, 596 Catalan 14, 67, 83, 733, 759 Dalmatian 21 European 692n27, 725, 729 Florentine 16, 75, 761, 782, 784, 787, 789 French 22, 83 Genoan 24, 123 Indian 536 Italian 123 Muslim 319n74 Ottoman 241n38 Persian 830 Pisan 757 Rasulid 583, 586, 588, 591, 593, 594, 595, 596 Seljuk 308 Turkmen 308 Venetian 18, 19, 76, 77, 78, 80, 81, 82, 319n74, 662, 725, 750, 753n55, 754, 755, 760, 761, 764, 766, 788, 793 Mercury (Quicksilver) 662, 668, 669

867 Merinids (Mérinides; see also ʿAlī b. ʿUthmān II, Abū l-Ḥasan; al-Mutawakkil Abū ʿInān Fāris; al-Nāṣir, Abū Yaʿqūb Yūsuf) 27n128, 515, 516n28, 517n29, 518, 714 Mesopotamia 350n38 Messengers (see also Ambassadors, Couriers, Emissaries, Envoys) 108, 110, 111, 112, 114, 116, 117, 131, 134, 218, 219, 239n19, 276n60, 290, 303, 304, 307, 313, 315n52, 318, 320, 520, 572, 615, 617, 628, 651, 662, 688, 690, 693n31, 757 Metals (see also Copper, Gold, Lead, Mercury, Silver, Tin) 793 Metropolitan of Abyssinia 639, 646, 649, 653 Michael VIII Paleologus (Byzantium) 266, 281, 313, 314, 315, 320, 322 Miglias, Nicolin di (Cypriot envoy) 737 Mignanelli, Beltramo 381, 383, 393 Mihmandār 243, 250n96, 254, 255, 282, 486, 521, 522, 638, 639, 693 Milan 142, 143, 686, 689, 704n62 Milly, James de (Hospitallers) 731 Ming 829 Minṭāsh 383 Miquel, André 529 Mīrānshāh b. Tīmūr (Timurids) 384, 392, 393, 398n95, 400n104, 402, 444, 448, 449, 454, 455, 464 Mīrkhwānd 341, 382 Mirrors for Princes 110–2, 131, 226, 263, 341 Mithāl 44n203, 436n47, 457, 595 Mīthāq 447 Mithqāl al-Ḥabashī (Mamluk envoy) 651 Mocenigo, Tommaso (Venice) 78, 82 Moclín 516 Moghulestan 392 Mojácar 516 Möngke (Mongols) 306n9, 307, 309, 310, 312 Möngke Temür (Golden Horde) 281, 282, 283, 317 Mongols (see also Arigh Böke; Chinggis Khān; Möngke; Qubilai) 122, 131, 134, 135, 137, 138, 145, 148, 149, 150, 153, 160, 191, 192, 195, 196, 210, 211n149, 265, 266, 268, 270, 272, 280, 302, 307, 308, 310, 316, 319, 327, 330–7, 341, 345, 346n24, 350, 391, 392, 495, 533, 534, 541, 585 Montpellier 145

868 Moritz, Bernhard 20, 742, 743, 745, 746, 747 Morocco (Barr al-ʿUdwa, al-Gharb al-Aqṣā) 190, 192, 194, 195, 196, 197, 668, 678, 714, 718, 763 Mortel, Richard 154, 608 Mosanef, F. 356 Mosul 341, 368 Mottahedeh, Roy 346 Motto, see ʿAlāma Moukarzel, Pierre 139 Mounat, Sir 731 Mount Sinai 66n277, 242, 694, 727, 728, 746, 823n1, 827 Mount Sion 647, 717, 720 Muʿāwiya I (Umayyads) 403 al-Muʾayyad Aḥmad III (Mamluks) 79, 609 al-Muʾayyad Dāwūd (Rasulids) 543, 544, 584n17, 585, 589, 599, 808 al-Muʾayyad Shaykh (Mamluks) 8, 37, 68, 78, 372, 376, 420, 421n20, 434, 438n51, 439, 442, 443n69, 444, 450n98, 452, 453, 456–64, 539, 559, 585, 586, 599, 600, 693, 695, 759 Muʿāẕ b. Jabal 630 al-Muʿaẓẓam Tūrānshāh I (Ayyubids of Yemen) 599 Mubāshir Khilāfatī (Abbasid envoy) 632 Mufliḥ, Amīn al-Dīn (Rasulid envoy) 588, 589n24 Mughals, see Akbar; Bābur Muḥammad (Prophet) 114, 115, 250, 401, 403, 605, 615, 627, 628, 629, 630, 632, 633, 698, 712, 732 Muḥammad I (Nasrids) 511, 512, 513, 515, 517 Muḥammad II (Nasrids) 512, 513 Muḥammad V (Nasrids) 515, 516, 518, 519, 520 Muḥammad IX (Nasrids) 516, 520 Muḥammad XII (Nasrids) 516, 523 Muḥammad b. Abī Bakr al-Mutawakkil alBijāʾī (Hafsids) 556 Muḥammad al-Bahāʾ, Nāṣir al-Dīn (Rasulid envoy) 588 Muḥammad b. Barakāt (Sharifs of Mecca) 609, 613, 614, 617 Muḥammad Bey b. Jamaq (Ilkhanid envoy) 279

index Muḥammad b. ʿĪsā b. Muhannā (Āl Faḍl) 545 Muḥammad, Jalāl al-Dīn 405n129 Muḥammad Jūkī b. Shāh Rukh (Timurids) 456n127 Muḥammad Khudābanda, see Öljeitü Muḥammad Khwāja b. Uruktamur (Golden Horde envoy) 290 Muḥammad, Mubāriz al-Dīn (Muzaffarids) 354 Muḥammad b. al-Mukarram, see Ibn Manẓūr Muḥammad Sām, Muʿizz al-Dīn (Delhi sultans) 631 Muḥammad-Shāh b. Qarā Yūsuf (Qara Qoyunlu) 457n132 Muḥammad Shāh I, ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn Khaljī (Delhi sultans) 624 Muḥammad Shāh II b. Tughluqshāh, Abū l-Mujāhid (Delhi sultans) 632 Muḥammad Shāh III, Nāṣir al-Dīn (Delhi sultans) 634 Muḥammad Shaybānī (Shaybanids) 248 Muḥammad Ṣūfī (Abbasid envoy) 632 Muḥammad-Sulṭān b. Tīmūr (Timurids) 448 Muḥammad b. Tughluq (Delhi sultans) 621, 625 Muḥammad b. Yolqutluq (Ilkhanids) 352n51 Muhanna, Elias 149, 188 al-Muʿizz Aybak (Mamluks) 76, 582, 705, 755 al-Mujāhid ʿAlī (Rasulids) 546, 585, 589, 592, 594, 595, 596, 598, 626 al-Mujāhidī l-Riḍwānī, Abū l-Durr Jawhar (Rasulid envoy) 588, 589 al-Muktafī ʿAbd al-Raḥmān b. Muḥammad b. Abī Yaḥyā (Constantine) 557 Mukūs 552, 616 Mules 394, 406, 714 Multan 392 Münşeʾāt-i selāṭīn (Ferīdūn Beg) 41 Munshaʾāt 4, 36, 40, 107n12, 125, 126, 129, 209, 446n82 Munshiʾ 9, 37, 39, 51, 439 al-Muntakhab, Abū Zakariyyāʾ Yaḥyā III b. Ibrāhīm I (Hafsids) 556 Muntakhab al-tavārīkh (Muʿīn al-Dīn Naṭanzī) 382

index al-Muntaṣir Muḥammad II (Hafsids) 756 al-Muntaṣir Muḥammad IV (Hafsids) 558, 559 al-Muqaddasī 187 al-Muqaffā, see al-Taʾrīkh al-kabīr al-muqaffā Muqbil 388, 389 Muqbil b. Nakhbār (Sharifs of Mecca) 547 Murabbaʿ 45n207, 595, 663 Murād I (Ottomans) 498n34 Murād II (Ottomans) 27n127, 39n178, 41n188, 252, 253 Murcie 542, 555 Murgham b. Ṣābir 535 al-Murūj al-zakiyya fī tawshiyat al-durūj alkhiṭābiyya (Ibn al-Ḥanbalī) 35 Musā II, Abū Ḥammū (Abdelwadids) 534n31 Mūsā b. Kaʿb 49n224 Mūsā Khān b. ʿAlī b. Baydu (Ilkhanids) 352– 3 Mūsā, Muẓaffar al-Dīn (Mamluk envoy) 283 Mūsā b. T-m-r-s-lās, Muẓaffar al-Dīn (Mamluk envoy) 283 Mūsā Tūybughā, Shaykh (Rīgmāl) 395 Mushāfaha (Oral message) 218, 219, 225–6, 303, 315, 318, 330, 337, 457n133, 662, 726 Music (see also Drums) 243, 253, 354, 690 Musk 246, 251, 599, 670 Muslim b. al-Ḥajjāj 673 Mustafayev, Shahin 383 al-Mustaʿīn, al-Dāʿī Aḥmad b. Marzūq b. Abī ʿUmāra al-Khayyāṭ, see Ibn Abī ʿUmāra al-Mustaʿīn Saʿd b. ʿAlī (Nasrids) 516, 523 al-Mustakfī (Abbasids) 625, 626, 631, 632 al-Mustanjid (Abbasids) 613, 614 al-Mustanṣir (Abbasids) 531, 623 al-Mustanṣir, Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad I b. Yaḥyā I (Hafsids) 531, 532, 533, 539n60, 542, 546, 548, 554, 555, 556, 557, 558 al-Mustanṣir, Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad II Abū ʿAṣīda (Hafsids) 556, 756 al-Mustanṣir, Abū l-ʿAbbās Aḥmad II (Hafsids) 557 al-Mustanṣir, Abū Darba Muḥammad III (Hafsids) 556 al-Mustanṣir, Abū Ḥafs ʿUmar II (Hafsids) 556

869 al-Mustanṣir, Abū Isḥāq Ibrāhīm II (Hafsids) 556 al-Mustanṣir Muḥammad b. Yaḥyā Abī Yaḥyā al-Muwaḥḥad (Bijāya) 556 al-Mustaʿṣim (Abbasids) 340, 582, 624, 634 K. Mustawdiʿ al-ʿalāma wa-mustabdiʿ alʿallāma (Ibn al-Aḥmar) 513 al-Muʿtaṭid (Abbasids) 626, 627, 632 al-Muʿtaḍid ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz b. Ibrāhīm b. Yahyā (Bijāya) 556 Muṭahhartan 370, 441n59 Muṭālaʿa (Written memorandum) 245 al-Mutawakkil I (Abbasids) 626, 627, 631, 632, 633 al-Mutawakkil, Abū Fāris ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz (Hafsids) 539, 540, 546, 547, 549, 552, 553, 558, 559, 566, 567n5 al-Mutawakkil Abū ʿInān Fāris (Merinids) 556 al-Mutawakkil, Abū Yaḥyā Abū Bakr (Hafsids) 549, 552 al-Mutawakkil Muḥammad V (Hafsids) 556 al-Muẓaffar Aḥmad II (Mamluks) 421n20, 459, 461 al-Muẓaffar Baybars II al-Jāshnakīr (Mamluks) 263, 273, 277, 544, 591 Muẓaffar Khān, see Ẓafar Khān (Gujarat) al-Muẓaffar Quṭuz (Mamluks) 307, 308, 327, 328, 329, 330, 331, 332, 532, 584, 585 Muẓaffar Shāhids (Malwa) 39, 621 al-Muẓaffar Yūsuf I (Rasulids) 534, 543, 582, 584, 585, 590, 593, 643, 649 Muzaffarids (Gujarat) 621 Muzaffarids (Shiraz; see also Muḥammad, Mubāriz al-Dīn) 357, 363 Muzīl al-ḥaṣr fī mukātabāt ahl al-ʿaṣr 35 Nablus 390n49 Nafḥ al-ṭīb min ghusn al-Andalus al-raṭīb (alMaqqarī) 27n128, 515, 519 Najaf 342n8, 348, 354 Najāshī 641 Najd 350n38 Najīb, Ṣārim al-Dīn (Rasulid envoy) 588 Nakhjawānī 342 Namūn (Golden Horde envoy) 284, 285 Naples (see also Don Alonzo; Ferdinand I; Joanna I) 24, 25, 85, 524, 686, 687, 688, 689, 690, 692n28, 719, 736, 793

870 Narratio 426, 436, 437, 438, 494 al-Nāṣir, Abū l-Baqāʾ Khālid I (Hafsids) 556 al-Nāṣir, Abū Yaʿqūb Yūsuf (Merinids) 537, 545 al-Nāṣir Aḥmad (Rasulids) 585, 586, 598, 589 Nāṣir al-Din (Abbasid envoy) 633 Nāṣir al-Dīn (Rasulid envoy) 588 al-Nāṣir Faraj (Mamluks) 24, 84, 151, 211nn148–9, 274, 363, 364, 368, 369, 370, 371, 372, 373, 375, 376, 381, 382, 384n28, 385n34, 386, 387, 395, 397, 398, 401, 440, 444, 452n107, 453, 457, 462, 539, 558, 644, 645 al-Nāṣir Ḥasan (Mamluks) 27n128, 70, 77, 595, 598 al-Nāṣir b. al-Mujāhid (Rasulids) 598 al-Nāṣir Muḥammad I (Mamluks) 12, 13n64, 14, 53n249, 67, 68, 69, 77, 135, 252, 267, 271, 273, 274, 277, 279, 304, 328, 335, 350, 351, 352, 366, 402n113, 428n38, 539n56, 557, 585, 598, 599, 626, 644, 645, 654, 660n14, 692n27, 756, 761, 804, 806, 809, 813, 815 al-Nāṣir Muḥammad IV (Mamluks) 73, 74, 792, 793, 794, 795 al-Nāṣir I Yūsuf, Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn (Saladin) (Ayyubids) 529, 530, 531, 557, 558, 599, 698, 754 al-Nāṣir II Yūsuf (Ayyubids of Damascus) 328, 329 Naṣr Hous 732 Nasrids (see also Ismāʿīl II; Muḥammad I; Muḥammad II; Muḥammad V; Muḥammad IX; Muḥammad XII; al-Mustaʿīn Saʿd b. ʿAlī; Yūsuf I) 39, 56n263, 156, 215, 511, 513–20, 522, 523, 524, 525, 540, 553 Naṭanzī, Muʿīn al-Dīn 382 Naves, Sor de 736 Nawrūz (Ilkhanid amir) 349 Nawrūz al-Ḥāfiẓī 401n108, 442 Nicolson, Harold 617, 618 Niger 658 Nigeria 659, 662, 663n30 Nihāvand 265 Nile 242, 641, 649, 725, 824n4, 827 Nile-to-Oxus region 363, 374 Nisyros 731 Niẓām al-Mulk 111, 263, 264, 266, 272, 279

index Nizārī-Ismāʿīlīs 308 Noah (Prophet) 396 Noghai 266, 282, 283, 284 Notaries 6, 31, 218 Nuʿayr (Āl Faḍl) 365 Nubia 49n224, 156, 157, 190n38, 192, 194, 196, 197, 827 Nubians 218 Nūr al-Dīn (Golden Horde envoy) 283 Nūr al-Dīn (Timurid amir) 403, 404 Nūr al-Dīn b. Sār Būghā Jalāyir 401 Nūr al-maʿārif fī nuẓum wa-qawānīn wa-aʿrāf al-Yaman fī l-ʿahd al-muẓaffarī l-wārif 590 Nuʿūt (Epithets) 34, 60, 199, 203–5, 223, 486, 493, 494, 676 al-Nuwayrī 27n128, 305, 306, 500, 515, 532 Oaths (Yamīn) 44, 45, 137, 320n76 Ohta, Keiko 155 Öljeitü, Muḥammad Khudābanda (Ilkhanids) 271, 293, 349n33, 350n41, 354, 356, 544 Oran 716 Orsa, Andrea alias Anthony de l’ 737 Orsini, Gianbattista (Hospitallers) 737 Ottomans (see also Bāyazīd I; Bāyazīd II; Cem; Korkud; Meḥmed I; Meḥmed II; Murād I; Murād II; Selīm I; Sulaymān II) 11, 20, 21, 22, 24, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 61n276, 66, 83, 106, 121, 122, 132n98, 148, 149, 153, 156, 158n224, 210, 211, 216, 239, 240, 241, 242n49, 244, 246, 248, 252, 253, 303, 363, 370, 371, 374, 384, 385, 421, 423, 484–505, 514, 522, 538, 550, 554, 557, 566–75, 647, 659, 676, 699, 718, 741, 742, 743, 744, 745, 746, 747, 760, 761, 762, 765, 766, 793 Ouerfelli, Mohamed 25 Özbek (Golden Horde) 274, 277, 284n112, 285n118, 286, 287, 288, 289, 290, 304 Pahlitzsch, Johannes 146, 719 Palestine 122, 242, 647 Palmyra, see Tadmur Paoli, Sebastiano 24 Paper 2, 6, 33, 42, 43, 48, 49, 57, 199, 206, 218, 224, 316, 416, 417, 437n49, 512, 513, 514, 519, 661, 662, 663, 742, 783, 791

index formats 27, 34, 37, 38, 40, 45n207, 47, 59, 126, 199, 200–1, 207, 208, 210, 211, 224, 422n20, 438n49, 489n14, 663, 664, 674, 675, 676, 678 recycled 10 reused 9, 10, 410, 411, 418, 420, 462 Paper money 217, 226, 348 Papyrus 2, 49n224, 742 Parades 240, 245, 366 Parasol 247, 551 Parchment 2, 25n121 Paredes, Lucena 156 Parete, Bartholomew de (Hospitaller envoy) 733 Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France 23, 411, 810 Musée du Louvre 804, 813 Parvanah (Seljuqs) 291 Patriarch of Alexandria 147, 223n26, 638, 639, 640n5, 642, 643, 646, 652 Patriarch of Jerusalem 495n32 Paul II (pope) 736 Pāyandah (Timurid envoy) 461 Peace (see also Truces) 3, 106, 113, 116 117, 118, 127, 136, 137, 139, 144, 148, 149, 150, 154, 160, 273, 331, 334, 350, 351, 398, 401, 441, 453, 567, 569, 570, 571, 572, 573, 574, 575, 605, 745, 757, 758, 835n59 Pedani, Maria Pia 19, 46n212 Pegolotti 321 Penbox (écritoire; dawāt) 801–18 Pepper 599, 692, 693 Perelman, Les 185 Perfumes (parfums; see also Balsam, Incense, Musk) 558, 826 Perruchon, J. 147 Persia 190n32, 192n92, 194n78, 196, 197, 341, 355, 356 Persian Gulf 741 Persian Iraq, see Iraq Peter I (Cyprus) 84, 696 Peter IV (Aragon) 68–72 Petitions (Qiṣṣa) 34n159, 45n206, 66, 123, 124, 216n7, 222n23, 224, 225, 511, 519, 685, 713, 748, 753, 766 Pfeiffer, Judith 333, 499n36 Philips, Jonathan 136 Pigeons 254

871 Pilgrimage (Pèlerinage), Jerusalem 56n265, 146, 650, 712 Muslim 122, 155, 156, 157, 244, 351, 394, 453, 524, 529, 532, 533, 536, 537, 540, 541, 544, 546, 605, 629, 642, 658, 659, 660n14, 678 Pilgrimage caravan (caravane de pèlerins) 156, 539, 541, 542, 543, 545, 546, 553, 648, 649, 650, 659, 660, 667, 668 Pilgrims (pèlerins) 122, 123, 127, 130, 140, 145, 146, 147, 152, 240, 345, 521, 522, 530, 536, 539, 540, 541, 542, 543, 544, 545, 615, 629, 642, 648, 649, 650, 652, 658, 659, 663, 667, 668, 687, 689, 729 Piracy 140, 686, 693, 725, 750, 754 Pirates (see also Corsairs) 23, 569, 730, 737, 750, 751, 753, 758, 759, 760, 763, 764, 768 Pīr Būdāq (Qara Qoyunlu) 422n20, 424, 426 Pīr Muḥammad b. Jahāngīr (Timurids) 403, 448n90 Pīr ʿUmar 457 Pisa 16, 25, 85, 142, 143, 686, 757 State Archives 25 Pisans 24, 282n94, 757 Plante, Julian G. 147 Plates 653, 692 Podocataro, Peter (Cypriot envoy) 730, 731, 732, 733, 735 Poetry 37, 51, 60, 188n14, 354, 492n23 Poles 570 Poliak, A.N. 148 Polish king 573 Polo 317 Porcelain 157, 599, 692, 826, 829, 832, 833n45, 834, 835, 836, 837 Porto Pisano 782, 792 Portugal (see also Afonso IV; Afonso V; Emmanuel I; John I; John II; John III; Manuel I) 144, 145, 518, 648, 699, 711–23, 741, 763, 765 Portuguese 648, 699, 720, 741, 765 Portuguese king 712, 714, 716, 717, 718, 721, 722 Postal service (Barīd) 119, 290, 320, 321 Pozza, M. 750 Predelli, Riccardo 18, 750

872 Prisoners (prisonnier) 115, 118, 137, 240n33, 243, 244, 252, 314, 370, 373, 386, 394, 395, 401, 444, 449n96, 454, 455, 458n138, 546, 593, 750 Procurations 44 Prose 37, 51, 60, 222, 439 Protocol 30, 50, 111, 127, 149, 152, 199, 205, 207, 214, 248, 249, 250, 332, 392, 423, 426, 436, 446, 462, 488, 489, 491, 492, 494, 499, 500, 501, 502, 552, 597, 606, 651, 665, 688, 691, 694, 699, 707 Provence 22 Proverbs 51, 188n14, 672n69, 673 Provisions 25, 122, 124, 139, 141, 640, 689 695, 697, 707, 763, 784, 787, 788, 789 Pryor, John 145 al-Qāḍī l-Fāḍil 534, 558 Qāḍī l-Milal 250 Qahwat al-inshāʾ (Ibn Ḥijja) 9, 37–8, 126, 423, 438, 439, 440, 462, 635 al-Qalʿa (Andalus) 554 Qalāʾid al-jumān fī muṣṭalaḥ mukātabāt ahl al-zamān (Ibn al-Qalqashandī) 34, 126 Qalʿat al-Jabal; see Cairo, citadel Qalʿat al-Rūm 390 al-Qalījī, ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn ʿAlī b. Balbān (Mamluk envoy) 293 al-Qalqashandī 8, 9, 11, 12, 17, 28, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 36n171, 37, 43, 44n202, 48, 49, 50, 52n243, 56, 126, 128n89, 131, 132, 145, 188n14, 189, 191, 193, 198, 200, 201, 202, 219, 220, 221n19, 222nn22 and 24, 224, 226, 320, 341, 417, 420, 422n20, 438, 513, 514, 515, 519, 552, 610, 635, 659, 660, 662, 663, 664, 666, 667, 669, 671, 674, 676, 677, 678, 698, 701, 745, 766, 789, 790, 801, 802 al-Qalshānī, Ḥasan b. ʿUmar 567 al-Qalshānī, Ḥusayn b. ʿUmar (Hafsid envoy) 567 al-Qalshānī, Muḥammad b. ʿUmar 567 Qandūla 609 Qānṣawh Khamsumiʾa 795 Qāra 405, 406n133 Qarabagh 459 Qarābughā 342, 343, 344 Qarāchīl mountain 627

index Qarajā, Zayn al-Dīn (Mamluk envoy) 285, 286 Qarakhanids 319n73 Qaramanids 40, 42, 153, 154, 210, 211, 241, 252, 457, 676 Qarā Muḥammad (Qara Qoyunlu) 152 Qara Qoyunlu (see also Iskandar b. Qarā Yūsuf; Jahānshāh b. Qarā Yūsuf; Muḥammad-Shāh b. Qarā Yūsuf; Pīr Būdāq; Qarā Muḥammad; Qarā Yūsuf) 8, 38, 39, 126n82, 152, 153, 210, 211, 240, 241, 245n68, 252n106, 352, 368, 374, 375, 385, 420, 423, 438, 441n59, 443n65, 450, 458, 462, 463, 495 Qārāqūsh (Mamluk envoy) 288 Qarāsunqur 350 Qarā ʿUthmān (Aq Qoyunlu) 383, 385n30, 393, 440, 441n60, 442, 450, 456, 457, 458, 463 Qarā Yūsuf (Qara Qoyunlu) 152, 368–75, 385, 420, 421n20, 422, 423, 424, 425, 426, 428, 436–64 Qarqarā, Tavakkul 406 Qartuqa (Qa-r-ṭ-qā) (Golden Horde envoy) 286, 287 Qāṣid, see Ambassadors, Emissaries, Envoys Qāsim, Q.ʿA. 147 al-Qaṣr al-Ṣaghīr (Morocco) 717 Qawṣūn 278, 280 Qayṣar, ʿAlam al-Dīn 349 Qazwīn 444, 445, 450, 454, 463 al-Qazwīnī 341 al-Qazwīnī, Sharaf al-Dīn 317 Qilij Arslān IV (Seljuqs) 307, 310, 348n30 Qipchaq, see Dasht-i Qipchaq Qipchaks 453 al-Qirimī, ʿAbd al-Ghaffār 452 al-Qirimī, ʿUmar (Golden Horde envoy) 286 Qonqrutai 334 Qrim 321 Quanzhou 826n15 Quatremère, Étienne 155 Qubilai (Mongols) 306n9, 310, 312 Qubilāy 599 Qudāma b. Jaʿfar 186 al-Quds, see Jerusalem al-Qudsī 131 Quivers ( Jaʿba) 216, 653n59

index Qum 445, 447, 448, 449 Qumis 395n76 Qūmis 333, 834 Quran 48, 60, 113, 114, 115, 248, 311, 328, 356, 570, 613, 614, 662, 666, 670, 673, 713 Quranic verses 51, 239n19, 426 Quraysh 628, 671, 672 Qurayshī, Qāẓī Najm al-Dīn (Abbasid envoy) 634 Qurqumās al-Dawādār 547 Qūṣ 649, 823n1, 827 Quṣayr al-Qadīm 823n1, 827 al-Quṣayrī, al-Sharīf ʿAlī (Mamluk messenger) 539 Quṭlūbughā l-Maghribī, Sayf al-Dīn (Mamluk envoy) 539 Qutlūjār (Golden Horde envoy) 290 al-Rabaʿī, Muḥammad b. Ibrāhīm b. al-Raʾīs al-Tūnisī (Hafsid ṣāḥib al-ʿalāma) 554 Rabīʿ, Ḥ.M. 153 Rāghib, Yūsuf 2 Ragusa (see also Dubrovnik) 21, 82, 83, 142, 143, 686, 687, 698, 701 Ragusans 695 al-Raḥba 365, 385n33 Rajab Burquʿī, Ḥājjī (envoy of the Delhi sultan) 626 Rajab-Sulṭān bt Mīrānshāh, Āqā Bīgī (Timurids) 449 Ramadanids 457 Ramla 390n50 Rams 406 Ranks/Status (rang) 32, 48n217, 49, 50, 51, 53, 54, 115, 116, 120, 127, 128, 129, 130, 132, 139, 140, 145, 159, 160, 185, 186, 198, 199, 200, 201, 202, 204, 205, 206, 207, 211, 212, 221, 222, 223, 224, 226, 265, 269, 272, 279, 308, 312, 357, 366, 374, 423n26, 437n49, 446n79, 452, 489, 490, 493, 495, 497, 499, 503, 504, 515, 551, 581, 586, 587, 590, 597, 598, 604, 606, 616, 618, 621, 626, 635, 671, 674, 676, 677, 678, 688, 690, 691, 692n27, 696, 715, 725, 726, 728, 730, 737, 749, 790, 794, 806 Ransoms 122, 137, 397, 402, 404 Rashīd al-Dīn 329, 341, 342n8, 343 Rasūl, see Messengers

873 Rasulids (Rasoulides, Banū Rasūl; see aslo alAfḍal al-ʿAbbās b. ʿAlī; al-Ashraf Ismāʿīl I; al-Manṣūr ʿUmar b. ʿAlī b. Rasūl; alMuʾayyad Dāwūd; al-Mujāhid ʿAlī; alMuẓaffar Yūsuf I; al-Nāṣir Aḥmad; al-Nāṣir b. al-Mujāhid) 8, 35, 38, 39, 52, 53n249, 126n82, 154, 209, 210, 532, 542, 543, 544, 581–600, 626, 649, 678, 808, 815, 827n20, 836 al-Rawḍ al-zāhir fī sīrat al-Malik al-Ẓāhir (Ibn ʿAbd al-Ẓāhir) 305, 306 Rawżat al-mulūk 629 Rāya 823n1, 827 Rayḥān (Ilkhanid envoy) 294 Rayḥānat al-kuttāb wa-najʿat al-muntāb (Ibn al-Khaṭīb) 514, 519 Rayy 392, 458 Realpolitik 136, 139 Rebels 116, 117, 128, 312, 364n1, 429, 627, 630 Receptions 108, 111, 121, 127, 129, 130, 135, 139, 144, 147, 150, 157, 158, 159, 160, 227, 240, 242, 244, 247, 248, 250, 252, 253, 255, 256, 293, 315, 364, 366, 367, 371, 374, 375, 489n13, 492, 540, 585, 598, 606, 617, 643, 654, 674, 690, 691, 694, 717, 728, 729, 789, 834 Recognitio 199 Red Sea 581, 582, 583, 591, 594, 595, 600, 648, 651, 652, 741, 765, 823, 827 Registers 4, 7, 8, 9, 10, 20, 21, 23, 25, 26, 28, 36, 56, 57, 59, 214n2, 498n35, 500, 654 Reinfandt, Lucian 53, 56n263, 158 Reports of ambassadors 44, 215 Rhodes (Rūdus) 24, 137, 138, 240, 521, 568, 686, 726, 733, 735, 736, 737, 738, 759, 765 Rhys Davids, T.W. 155 Ribera, Julián 13, 14 Rice 689 Richards, Donald 137 Rifāʿī, Sharaf al-Dīn (Abbasid envoy) 633 Rings 613, 627, 632 Rivesaltes, Bernard de (Cypriot envoy) 737 Riyāḥ 537 Rizzo, Alessandro 17, 18n84, 53, 142 Robes of honor (Khilʿa) 249, 253, 254, 364, 365, 395n75, 400, 486, 487, 503, 504, 613, 614, 617, 618, 621, 623, 624, 626, 632, 633, 728, 733

874 Roemer, Hans Robert 2 Rome (see also Callixtus III; Gelasius I; Innocent VIII; Julius II; Paul II) 192n76, 196 Vatican Archives 652 Roman Curia 720 Roman Empire 749 Roman law 748, 749, 756, 763 Romania 702 Rombulo of Messina, Pietro (Abyssinian envoy) 652 Roosen, W. 491, 502 Rose 227 Rose water (eau de rose) 803, 834 Rosenthal, Erwin 622 Rossi, Franco 19 al-Ruʿaynī, Abū l-ʿAbbās Aḥmad b. Muḥammad (Portuguese Muslim envoy) 711, 713 al-Ruʿaynī, Muḥammad b. Qāsim (Portuguese Muslim interpreter) 715, 716, 718 Rūdhrāwar 265 al-Rūdhrāwarī, Majd al-Dīn 265, 268, 280, 319 Rugs 248, 523n56 Rūhā, see Edessa Ruiz Orsatti, Reginaldo 14, 15n72 Rūm (see also Anatolia) 190, 192, 486, 550n112, 569, 572 Rumaytha b. Abī Numayy (Sharifs of Mecca) 544, 545, 546 Rustam b. Ṭughāy Bughā Barlās 389, 396, 401 Rustamdār 392 K. Rusul al-mulūk (Ibn al-Farrāʾ) 111 Rusulān, Sayf al-Dīn (Mamluk envoy) 288 Sable 247, 253, 486, 493 Saddles 247, 633 Saʿd-i Vaqqāṣ (Saʿd Waqqās) (Timurids) 420, 433, 441, 442, 445, 447, 448, 449, 456, 462, 463, 464 al-Ṣafā 612 Ṣafad 373, 390 al-Ṣafadī 36n171, 341, 354 Safavids (see also Shāh Ismāʿīl) 153, 248, 254, 489n14, 699, 741, 762, 765, 766 Safe-conducts (sauf-conduits; Amān) 20, 26, 44, 45, 118, 122, 146, 345, 534, 585, 652, 665n44, 666, 695, 737, 748, 749, 753, 754, 755, 758

index Safīr, see Ambassadors, Emissaries, Envoys Ṣaghāniyān (Chaghāniyān) 392 al-Ṣaghīr b. Yūsuf 549, 568, 569, 571, 573 Sahara 658, 661, 662, 676, 678 Saḥart 643, 645 Sahel 659–66, 676 al-Saḥmāwī, Muḥammad b. Muḥammad 33, 34, 48, 49, 53, 126, 128n89, 189, 193, 198, 200, 201n117, 202, 209, 422n20, 534, 552, 610, 790, 791 Saiben, Johannes (also Sunqur) 702n61 Ṣaʿīd, see Upper Egypt Saʿīd, Muḥammad 154 Saʿīd, Saʿd al-Dīn (Ilkhanid envoy) 291 Saʿīd b. Samīt 630 Saʿīd Ṣarṣarī, Hājjī (Abbasid envoy) 626, 632 Ṣāʾin Tīmūr 400 Saint Louis, see Louis IX al-Sakhāwī 30n139, 250, 252, 453n110, 523, 545, 551, 567, 568, 569, 612, 616, 653n59 Sakrān al-Firinjī 273, 274, 278 Saktāy b. Qarajin b. Junghay 278n77 Saladin, see al-Nāṣir I Yūsuf Salado, River 515, 518 al-Ṣāliḥ, Abū l-Fidāʾ Ismāʿīl (Ayyubids of Hama) 808 al-Ṣāliḥ ʿAlī b. Qalāwūn (Mamluks) 534, 585 al-Ṣāliḥ II Ayyūb (Ayyubids) 307, 308, 531 al-Ṣāliḥ Ḥājjī II (Mamluks) 71, 595, 646 al-Ṣāliḥ Ismāʿīl (Mamluks) 77, 537, 758 al-Ṣāliḥ Maḥmūd (Artuqids) 354n70 al-Ṣāliḥ Ṣāliḥ (Mamluks) 70, 518, 644 Sālimī, Abū Shukūr 628 Sallār 536, 594, 599 Salmān Fārsī 630 Salmān Sāwajī 354 Salutatio 51, 207, 208, 426, 494, 666 Salviati, James 730 Samaghar 291 Samarqand 254 Samarqandī, ʿAbd al-Razzāq 382 Ṣanbūb 610 Sand (sable) 803 Sangriza, Tāj al-Dīn 624 Sanudo, Benedetto (Venetian envoy) 689, 836 Sanuto, Marino 20, 743, 744, 747, 766, 794 Sappers 394, 404

index Saqsīn 321 Sarakhs 454 al-Sarakhsī 115n47, 116, 117 Sarandīb, see Ceylon Sarāy 284, 287, 320, 321, 452 Sarāy al-Jadīda 452n105 Sardinia 702 Sartaq (Golden Horde) 309 Sarṭaqṭāy (Mamluk envoy) 290 Sassanids 115 Sātī Beg 352 Sāva 385 Savinjīk 396, 400n103 Savoy (see also Charles I) 25, 54n253, 85 al-Ṣawābī, Sayf al-Dīn (Mamluk envoy) 282 Sawāḥil 632 al-Ṣāwī Bāz, Karam 157 Sawliyān 632 Sayf b. Dhī Yazan 671, 672 Sayfa Arʿad (Abyssinia) 642, 644 Saylān 632 Sayyid ʿImād 395n76 Sayyid Khwāja Shaykh ʿAlī 400n103 Sayyid Ziyād 632 al-Sayyida Nafīsa 366 Sayyids (Delhi) 634 Scanlon, G. 826 Scarves 599 Schimmel, Annemarie 624 Schmid, Margarete Pia 146 Schreiner, Peter 146 Scrolls (rouleaux; darj) 10, 316, 410, 437, 742, 783, 785, 786, 787, 789, 790, 791, 792, 802 Seals (Khātam, Nişān, Ṭamgha) 37, 38, 41, 47, 53, 216n6, 227, 513, 624, 694, 695n36 Seco de Lucena, Luis 156, 515 Sefuwa 659, 660, 662, 663n30, 668, 671, 677, 679 Seguezzi, Santo 662 Segurano-Sakrān Salvaygo, see Sakrān Selīm I (Ottomans) 41, 83, 256, 489n14, 496, 742, 743, 744, 745, 766 Seljuqs 263, 347 Seljuqs of Rūm (see also Kaykāʾūs I, ʿIzz alDīn; Masʿūd II, Ghiyāth al-Dīn; Parvanah; Qilij Arslān IV) 153, 206, 271n38, 291, 307, 308, 310–6, 319, 322, 348n30 Senegambia 662

875 Serbia 145, 146, 495 Serbs 145, 194 Seville 701, 727 Seyssel, Philip de 731 Shādmān Castle 392 Shadūntāz 401n108 Shāfiʿ b. ʿAlī 27n128, 305, 307n16 Shāh Ismāʿīl (Safavids) 693n31, 766 Shahrazūr 392 Shāh Rukh (Timurids) 40n187, 151, 152, 153, 245, 249, 250, 388, 393, 400, 402, 420, 422, 426n31, 441, 443nn65 and 69, 444– 50, 453, 454, 455, 456, 458, 459, 460, 461, 463, 464, 545, 554, 618, 634, 728 Shāh Suwār (Dhulqadirids) 243, 254 Shāhānshāh (Chobanid envoy) 296 al-Shahīd, Abū Yaḥyā Abū Bakr I b. ʿAbd alRaḥmān (Hafsids) 556 Shāhmalik 400n103, 401, 403, 404 Shāhshāhān Abū l-Fatḥ 395 Shajar al-Durr (Ayyubids) 582 Shakrān al-Firinjī, see Sakrān Shām, see also Syria 350n42, 453n110, 594 Shāmī, Niẓām al-Dīn 151, 364, 381, 382, 383, 385, 386, 388–403, 405, 406 al-Sharīf, Jamāl al-Dīn Muḥammad b. ʿUmar (Rasulid envoy) 588 al-Sharīfī, Yūsuf b. ʿAbd al-Raḥmān (Abyssinian envoy) 652 Sh-r-n-k (Ilkhanid envoy) 286 Sharqī sultans (Jawnpur) 634 Sharṭ (Clauses, Stipulations) 46n209, 748 Shāwa 638, 641 al-Shaybānī 115, 116, 117n61 Shaybanids, see Muḥammad Shaybānī Shaykh al-Maḥmūdī (see also al-Muʾayyad Shaykh) 37, 372 Shaykh Nuʿmān (Golden Horde envoy) 277 Shaykh Uways (Jalayirids) 354, 355, 356, 357, 364, 447 Shaykhī Khāṣṣakī 401n108 Shaykhū 599 Sheeps 250, 252n102, 384, 689 Shehu 663 Shields 391, 653n59, 690 Shiḥna 343, 344 Ships (sea also Boats) 321, 520, 521, 692n28, 729, 737, 751 Shiites 328, 341, 344, 348, 349, 350

876 Shiraz 363, 368 al-Shīrāzī, Quṭb al-Dīn Maḥmūd 271, 291 Shirīk (Ilkhanid envoy) 286 Shirts 653 Shirvan 306, 307, 355 Shirvān b. Shaykh Barāq Manṣūrī 367n24, 368 Shirvanshahs 459 al-Shubrāywīqī, Ṣadr al-Dīn Sulaymān (Mamluk envoy) 293 Sibṭ Ibn al-ʿAjamī, Sharaf al-Dīn Abū Bakr 559 Sicile 536 Ṣiddīq (Timurid envoy) 461 Signature, see ʿAlāma, Tawqīʿ al-Sikurjī, Muḥammad (Ilkhanid envoy) 292 Silver 247, 366, 373, 759 Silvestre de Sacy, Antoine-Isaac 2, 24, 750 Sinai, see Mount Sinai and St. Catherine’s monastery Sind 190, 195, 392, 632 Sīrat-i Fīrūz Shāhī 621, 626, 627 Siryāqūs 244, 246 Sīs 758 Sistan 192n52, 196, 395 Sivas 271, 308, 310n30, 321n83, 331, 371n45, 384, 387n39, 404n123 Siyar al-mulūk (Niẓām al-Mulk) 111 Slave traders 123, 274, 319, 320, 653 Slaves 106n5, 244, 246, 247, 252, 253, 254, 273, 278, 290, 302, 307, 309, 313, 320, 322, 354, 356, 366, 386, 387, 400, 405, 441n61, 452, 522, 589, 590, 591, 592n39, 599, 653, 662, 673, 690, 692n29, 712, 715, 794 Slavs 570 S-m-dā-gh-w, ʿAbd al-Raḥmān (Ilkhanid envoy) 292 Smith, Clive 144 Soldaia, see Sūdāq Spain 13, 14, 124, 144, 197, 239, 240, 669, 720 Spices (see also Aloe, Ginger, Pepper, Salt, Sugar) 596, 599, 685, 688, 692, 793, 823, 834 Spies (see also Espionage, Intelligence) 333, 334, 391, 453, 762 Spurs 653, 692n29 Squirrel 486, 493, 522

index St. Catherine’s monastery 694, 728 Stalin, Josef 217, 218 Status (statut), see Ranks Stern, Samuel Miklos 2, 745, 746 Stewart, Angus Donald 138 Stockholm, Collection F.R. Martin 809 Stojanow, Valery 2 Strozzi, Filippo 836 Stufa, Luigi della (Florentine envoy) 75, 76, 689, 691, 693, 694, 784, 792 Suarez, Carceran 727, 728 Ṣubḥ al-aʿshā fī kitābat al-inshāʾ (al-Qalqashandī) 17, 28, 31, 32, 33, 43, 126, 219, 220, 236, 420, 514, 552, 635, 665, 801 al-Subkī 132 Subscriptio, see ʿAlāma Sudan 156, 190, 192, 194, 195, 196, 197, 241n34, 676, 677, 678 Sūdāq (Soldaia) 321 Sūdūn 390, 391, 394, 395 Sūdūn al-Manṣūrī (Mamluk envoy) 734, 738 Sūdūn al-Qaṣrawī (Mamluk envoy) 504 Sufis 246, 318, 346, 485, 605 Sugar 227, 248, 273, 689, 692, 834 Sulaymān (physician in Damascus) 405n129 Sulaymān II (Ottomans) 22, 83 Sulaymān b. Ḥusām al-Dīn Muhannā (Āl Faḍl) 350 Sulaymānshāh b. Dāwūd Dughlat 393, 396, 406n137 Ṣulḥ, see Truces Sulṭān-Abū Saʿīd (Timurids) 152 Sulṭān Aḥmad b. Shaykh Uways (Jalayirids) 357, 363–76, 385, 422n20, 440, 444, 463, 499 Sultan of Babylon 721 Sulṭān Dilshād (Jalayirids) 370 Sulṭān Ḥusayn b. Aka Bigī bt Tīmūr (Timurids) 391, 393, 398, 400, 403, 404, 406 Sulṭān Ḥusayn b. Shaykh Uways (Jalayirids) 364, 366 Sulṭān Maḥmūd Khān b. Soyurghatmısh (Timurids) 393 Sulṭān Ṭāhir b. Sulṭān Aḥmad (Jalayirids) 371 Sulṭāniyya 350, 444, 445, 446, 447, 448, 450, 454, 456, 463

index Sung 826n15, 829, 830n31 Sunqur, see Saiben, Johannes Sunqur al-Aqraʿ 275, 276 Sunqur al-Ashqar (Mamluk envoy) 272n44, 285, 291 Sunqur, Shams al-Dīn (Mamluk envoy) 283 Sūsūn 278 Suwākin 648, 649 Ṣuwar al-aqālīm (al-Balkhī) 186 Suyūrghāl 400, 421n18, 423 al-Suyūṭī 625 Sweets 689 Swords (épées) 367, 391, 394, 559, 613, 627, 632, 633, 653, 692n29 Ṭabaqāt-i Nāṣirī (Jūzjānī) 623 Tabaristan 192n52, 194n78, 196, 197 Tableware, see Basins, Bowls, Bottles, Chandeliers, Ewers, Plates, Porcelain, Trays, Vases Tabriz 294, 311, 321n83, 340, 341, 347, 348, 354, 355, 356, 363, 364, 372n55, 374, 422n20, 449, 457, 464 Tabrīzī, Naṣīr al-Dīn (Ilkhanid envoy) 292 Tadhkira, see Instructions Tadmur (Tadmīr, Palmyra) 406n136 Tafel, Gottlieb Lukas Friedrich 18, 750 Tafur, Pero 726–9, 731 Taghrī Birdī (Mamluk envoy) 81, 729, 763 Taghrī Birdī l-Maḥmūdī 547 Taghrī Birdī l-Ṭayyār (Mamluk envoy) 730, 731, 732, 738 Ṭāhir, Zayn al-Dīn 674 Ṭāʾifa 384n24, 749, 750, 751, 752, 753, 761, 762 Taiz 589, 590n29 Takrūr (see also Mali) 39, 157, 209, 210, 658 Ṭalas 392 Taʿlīq 417, 438 Ṭāliqān 392 Tamerlan (see also Tīmūr) 538, 545, 554 Ṭamgha, see Seals al-Tamīmī l-Tūnisī, ʿAbdallāh b. ʿAlī b. Ibrāhīm b. ʿAbdallāh (Hafsid ṣāḥib alʿalāma) 556 al-Tamīmī l-Tūnisī, ʿAlī b. Ibrāhīm b. ʿAbdāllāh b. Abī ʿAmr (Hafsid ṣāḥib al-ʿalāma) 556 Tana (Azāq, Azov) 321, 452n105

877 Tanam al-Ḥasanī 368, 369, 375 Tang 824, 831n34 Tank (Tonk) 632 Tanqīḥ al-abḥāth lil-milal al-thalāth (Ibn Kammūna) 347 al-Ṭanṭāwī l-Qarmūṭ, ʿAbd al-Rāziq 149 Taqlīd 367, 374, 543 Taʿrīf (designation) 674, 675, 676 al-Taʿrīf bi-l-muṣṭalaḥ al-sharīf (Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-ʿUmarī) 29, 30, 126, 189, 219, 552, 553, 639 al-Tārīkh al-Ghiyāthī (Ghiyāth al-Dīn ʿAbdallāh b. Fatḥ Allāh) 341 Taʾrīkh al-Islām (al-Dhahabī) 517 al-Taʾrīkh al-kabīr al-muqaffā (al-Maqrīzī) 411, 412, 416, 462 Tārīkh-i Shaykh Uvays (Ahrī) 342 Tarjama, see Intitulatio Tarjumān, see Interpreters, Translators Tarsus 567, 572, 573 Tatars 218, 318, 453 Tathqīf al-taʿrīf bi-l-muṣṭalaḥ al-sharīf (Ibn Nāẓir al-Jaysh) 30, 126, 219, 500 Ṭawāshī 587, 589 al-Tawāsī, Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad (Hafsid ṣāḥib al-ʿalāma) 557 Ṭaybughā l-Karmūnī, ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn (Mamluk envoy) 285 Ṭāyirbughā (Ilkhanid envoy) 278, 279, 295 Ṭāyūq 321 al-Ṭayyibī 417, 438 Ṭāz 599 Tegüder Aḥmad (Ilkhanids) 134, 270, 271, 276, 291, 292, 327, 333, 334, 335, 344, 348, 490, 499n36 Teh Gallop, Annabel 225 Temürtash 267, 273, 293, 294, 295, 296 Tents 242n50, 253, 254, 388, 443n65, 727 Terek, River 306, 307 Tevārīh Āl-i ʿOs̱mān (ʿĀşıḳ Pāşā-Zāde) 550 Textiles (see also Camlets, Silk, Velvet, Wool) 246, 252, 253, 394, 486, 558, 725, 730, 836 al-Thaghr al-bāsim fī ṣināʿat al-kātib wa-lkātim (al-Saḥmāwī) 33, 48, 126, 791 al-Thakafi, Y.A. 149 Thaqaba b. Rumaytha (Sharifs of Mecca) 544, 546 Theunissen, H. 743

878 Thomas, Georg Martin 18 al-Tibyān fī iṣṭilāḥ ahl al-zamān (al-Ḥalabī) 34 Tigray 641 al-Tijānī al-Tijānī, ʿAbdallāh b. Muḥammad (Hafsid ṣāḥib al-ʿalāma) 530, 535, 556 al-Tijānī, Muhammad b. Ahmad al-Tūnisī (Hafsid ṣāḥib al-ʿalāma) 556 Tikrit 343 al-Tikrītī, Ḥamza 344 Tilang 627 Tīluq (Mamluk envoy) 289 Timrāz al-Shamsī 794, 795 Tīmūr (Timurids) (see also Tamerlan) 150, 151, 152, 211, 239, 250, 275, 329, 357, 358, 363, 364, 365, 367, 368, 370, 371, 373, 374, 375, 376, 381–406, 420, 433, 440, 444, 445, 448, 451, 455, 463, 489n14, 545n79, 604, 621, 634 Tīmūr Qutlugh b. Tīmūr Malik (Golden Horde) 451 Timurbughā, see al-Ẓāhir Timurbughā (Mamluks) Timurbughā l-Marghinānī (Ilkhanid envoy) Timurids (see also Abū Bakr (Abā Bakr) b. Mīrānshāh; Burundūq; Iskandar b. ʿUmar Shaykh; Jahāngīr b. Tīmūr; Jahānshāh b. Chākū Barlās; Jahānshāh b. Tīmūr; Khalīl Sulṭān b. Mīrānshāh; Manglī Khwāja; Mīrānshāh b. Tīmūr; Muḥammad Jūkī b. Shāh Rukh; Muḥammad-Sulṭān b. Tīmūr; Pīr Muḥammad b. Jahāngīr; Rajab-Sulṭān bt Mīrānshāh, Āqā Bīgī; Saʿd-i Vaqqāṣ; Shāh Rukh; Sulṭān-Abū Saʿīd; Sulṭān Ḥusayn b. Aka Bigī bt Tīmūr; Sulṭān Maḥmūd Khān b. Soyurghatmısh; Tīmūr) 37, 38, 39, 52n246, 150, 151, 152, 210, 211, 250, 254, 352, 365, 371, 372, 381–406, 420, 423, 442, 443n75, 444–50, 454, 455, 458, 462, 463, 495, 618 Tīmūrtāsh al-Muḥammadī, see Damurdāsh Tin 662 al-Tīzīnī, Zayn al-Dīn (Mamluk envoy) Tlemcen 511, 514, 515, 537, 539, 540, 553, 676, 678 Töde Möngke (Golden Horde) 269, 270, 314 Togha-Timurids 451

index Toghan (Ilkhanid envoy) 294 Toledo 701, 721 Toqta (Golden Horde) 284, 285 Toqtamish (Golden Horde) 304, 451, 452 Touat 660n16 Traders (see also Merchants) 123, 274, 302, 308, 316, 319, 320, 321n83, 593, 594, 650, 652, 653, 662n26, 685, 686, 688, 689, 693, 695, 697, 704, 706, 720, 793 Transcaucasian region 312 Translators (see also Dragomans, Interpreters) 52, 57, 125, 264, 291, 315, 316, 702, 704, 705, 706, 729 Transoxiana (Mā warāʾ al-Nahr) 190n32, 192, 194n79, 196, 197, 311n36, 627, 632 Travelers (voyageurs) 127, 130, 137, 147, 530, 544, 665n44, 687, 825n12 Trays 592 Trevisan, Domenico (Venetian envoy) 689, 691, 693, 694, 834 Tributes 19, 20, 23, 139, 534, 536, 725, 726, 728, 729, 730, 731, 735, 737, 738, 746, 758, 761, 827n20 Tripoli (Libya) 535, 536n41, 660n16, 662, 668, 696 Tripoli (Lebanon) 390, 396, 585 Troadec, Anne 137 Truces (paix; Hudna, Ṣulḥ) 9n42, 11, 12, 15, 24, 26, 32n149, 44, 45, 52n243, 66, 110n18, 122, 127, 134, 138, 156, 307, 441, 447n83, 450, 453, 454, 456, 457, 550, 463, 693, 714, 745, 749 Tūblāq Qawchīn 400n104 Tughluqids 634 Ṭughrā 206, 207, 208, 211n149, 493 Tūgh Tughā 321 Ṭulunbāy (Golden Horde) 277, 287, 289 Tundī Khātūn 366 Tunisia, see Ifrīqiya Ṭuqbughā (Golden Horde envoy) 287 Tuqṣuba al-Ẓāhirī, Sayf al-Dīn (Mamluk envoy) 268n25, 287, 288 al-Ṭūr 823n1, 827 Turan 190n32, 192, 194, 195, 196, 197, 209, 210 Turanians 392 al-Ṭūrī, Mubāriz al-Dīn (Mamluk envoy) 291 Turin 25

index Turkmens 152, 153, 154, 192, 194n81, 196, 197, 209, 210, 211, 254, 310, 368, 369, 370, 371, 372, 374, 375, 383, 384, 392, 406, 438, 449, 457, 459, 568, 581 Turjī (Mamluk envoy) (see also Aturjī) 287 Turkestan 192n53, 196, 392, 451n103 al-Turkī, Mufliḥ al-Dīn (Rasulid envoy) 599, 600 al-Turkumānī, ʿAlī l-Dimashqī (Golden Horde envoy) 270, 280 al-Turkumānī, Fāris 729, 738 al-Turkumānī, Muḥammad (Mamluk envoy) 460 al-Turkumānī, Quṭlūbughā l-Khalīlī (Mamluk envoy) 539 Ṭurra 50, 201 Ṭūs 387 Ṭūsī, Naṣīr al-Dīn 328 Ubayy b. Kaʿb 630 al-Udāgh, see Ala-Dağ Ulaghči b. Sartaq (Golden Horde) 309 Ulmāz al-Khāṣṣturkī, Sayf al-Dīn (Mamluk envoy) 285, 286 al-Ulughkhānī 613 ʿUmar I, Abū Ḥafṣ (Hafsids) 536 ʿUmar II, Abū Ḥafṣ (Hafsids), see alMustanṣir ʿUmar b. al-Khaṭṭāb 242n51, 534 Umayyads (see also Muʿāwiya I; Yazīd I) 403 Umm Ḥabība 401 Umm Hāniʾ 606, 607, 608, 616 Umm Salama 401 ʿUnwān, see Inscriptio Upper Egypt (Haute Égypte, Ṣaʿīd) 538, 642, 646, 649, 650, 755 Urdū 452n105 ʿUrf 115, 118 al-ʿUrf al-nāsim min al-Thagh al-bāsim (alSaḥmāwī) 33 Urfa, see Edessa U(r)namas/sh (Golden Horde envoy) 281 Uruj, Sayf al-Dīn (Mamluk envoy) 296 Uruktamur (Golden Horde envoy) 290 al-Ushmūnayn 224 ʿUṭayfa b. Abī Numayy (Sharifs of Mecca) 544, 545, 546n83 ʿUthmān b. ʿAffān 630

879 ʿUthmān b. Idrīs, Abū ʿAmr (Borno) 659, 661, 670, 677 ʿUthmān Khūjā (Golden Horde envoy) 287 ʿUthmān b. Musāfir, Khwāja 274 Uygur script 315, 317 Uzdamur al-Mujīrī (Mamluk envoy) 293 Uzun Ḥasan (Aq Qoyunlu) 41n187, 153, 246, 249, 253, 254, 489n14, 490, 505, 618 Vaiou, Maria 111 Valencia 701 Validation (see also ʿAlāma) 10n51, 16n76, 26, 53, 127, 218, 224, 512, 551, 674, 675 Vallet, Éric 52, 154, 155, 160 Van Berchem, Max 51n237, 592 van Ghistele, Joos 689, 690, 692n29 Vansleb 643, 644 Varatojo 717 Vases 592, 832, 835n55 Vaṣṣāf 328 Vélez-Blanco 516 Vélez-Málaga 516 Velvet 251, 486, 493, 692 Venetian Bailo 762 Venetian doge 19, 56n265, 689n12, 701–3, 836 Venetians 16, 18, 20, 22, 24, 45n207, 140, 313, 318, 569, 702n60, 703, 705, 707n76, 725, 741, 743, 750, 757, 762, 764, 765, 787, 788, 789 Venice (Serenissima; see also Barbarigo, Agostino; Cornaro, Marco; Foscari, Francesco; Malipiero, Pasquale; Mocenigo, Tommaso) 17–20, 22, 25, 43n197, 50n230, 76–82, 139, 140, 141, 142, 143, 192n76, 194, 196, 197, 240, 514, 569, 574, 649, 686, 687, 693, 694n34, 701, 702, 705, 725, 729, 736, 737, 741, 742, 743n9, 744, 745, 747, 750, 760, 761, 763, 764, 767, 788, 789, 793, 827n20, 835, 836 Museo Correr (Venice) 788, 789 State Archives 18 Venier, Tomaso 743, 744, 747, 766 Vera 516 Vermeulen, Urbain 137 Verni, John de 731 Veselý, Rudolf 2, 29, 30, 37, 41, 42, 154, 438

880 Vezzoli, Valentina 157 Vigouroux, Élodie 381 Viguera, María Jesús 512 Vijayanagara (Bijankār) 610, 611 Viladrich, Mercè 15, 144, 745, 750, 759 Vílchez, Carlos 523 Volga 307, 308, 321, 452n105 von Karabacek, Josef 145 Wādī l-Khaznadār 328, 335, 336 Wāfidiyya 266n16, 306, 317, 319, 322, 343 al-Waḥḥād, Abū Zakariyyāʾ Yaḥyā b. Ibrāhīm al-Kūmī l-Qusantīnī (Hafsid ṣāḥib alʿalāma) 557 Walasmaʿ (Ethiopia) 641 al-Wandājī, Abū ʿAbdallāh Muḥammad b. Aḥmad (Portuguese Muslim envoy) 711, 713 Wansbrough, John 2, 17, 19, 43nn198–9, 54, 57, 58, 60, 141, 142, 199, 207, 208, 225, 226, 492, 499, 750, 756, 760, 761, 763, 764, 783, 784, 787, 788 Wasit 345 Waqf 61n276, 268, 540, 608, 633 War (see also Jihād) 106, 112, 114, 115, 116, 117, 118, 127, 134, 135, 137, 147, 149, 160, 240, 248, 306, 307, 310, 314, 316, 330, 342, 345, 346, 348, 363, 369, 375, 391, 489n14, 504, 567, 570, 591, 593, 615, 623, 629, 630, 695, 699, 714, 717, 719, 731, 733, 754, 759, 762, 766 Waṣl 47, 200, 201, 437n49 Watermelons 836 al-Wāthiq, Abū Zakariyyāʾ Yaḥyā II b. Muḥammad I (Hafsids) 555, 558 Weapons (see also Armors, Arrows, Bows, Bridles, Cuirasses, Daggers, Firearms, Helmets, Lances, Quivers, Saddles, Shields, Spurs, Swords) 367, 692 Weber, Max 214n3, 622 Wenzhou 826n15 Wiet, Gaston 147, 149, 534, 813, 828n24 Wijntjes, Marita Th. 143 Wing, Patrick 150 Woods, John 153, 381, 450n98 Wool 247, 522

index Ximénez de Cisneros, Francisco 721 Yagbe’a Ṣeyon (Abyssinia) 643 Yaḥyā (astronomer) 277 Yaḥyā I, Abū Zakariyyāʾ b. Abī Muḥammad b. ʿAbd al-Wāḥid (Hafsids) 531, 532n16, 548, 554, 557 Yaḥyā II, Abū Zakariyyāʾ, see al-Wāthiq (Hafsids) Yaḥyā III, Abū Zakariyyāʾ, see al-Muntakhab (Hafsids) Yaḥyā b. Abī Marwān al-Andalusī l-Ḥimyarī, see al-Khabīr Yaḥyā b. Aḥmad b. Shādī Bak (Mamluk envoy) 651 Yaḥyā IV b. Muḥammad al-Masʿūd, Abū Zakariyyāʾ (Hafsids) 551 Yaḥyā b. Ṭāyirbughā 278, 279, 295 Yamāma 192, 193, 196 Yamīn, see Oaths Yanbuʿ 547 al-Yaʿqūbī 187, 347n26, 348, 529 Yāqūt al-Qudsī, Iftikhār al-Dīn (Rasulid envoy) 588 Yarligh 44 Yāsa 311, 397, 400 Yashbak al-Muḥammadī 223 Yashbak al-Shaʿbānī 369, 370n36, 372, 373, 375, 401 Yazīd I (Umayyads) 403 Yazdī, Sharaf al-Dīn ʿAlī 381, 382, 383, 385– 90, 392, 393, 395, 398 Yaʿqūb b. al-Mutawakkil I (Abbasids) 35 Yaʿqūb b. Uzun Ḥasan (Aq Qoyunlu) 568 Yekuno Amlāk (Abyssinia) 638, 643, 648, 654 Yemen (Yémen) 35, 154, 155, 190, 192, 193, 194, 195, 196, 197, 204n135, 210, 239, 240, 530, 533, 534, 536, 542, 543, 546, 547, 581–600, 626, 648, 649, 651, 652, 659, 696, 823, 827 Yesḥāq (Abyssinia) 645 Yüksel Muslu, Cihan 41, 149, 502 al-Yūnīnī 305, 306 Yūsuf I (Nasrids) 516, 518 Yūsuf, Kamāl al-Dīn (Ilkhanid envoy) 292 Yūsuf b. Tāshufīn (Almoravids) 553 al-Yūsufī 500

index Ẓafar Khān (Gujarat) 621, 634 Ẓafarnāma (Niẓām al-Dīn Shāmī) 381, 382, 384 Zagwe (Abyssinia) 638 al-Ẓāhir Barqūq (Mamluks) 68, 71, 72, 73, 143, 211n149, 252, 274, 304, 329, 363, 364, 365, 366, 367, 368, 369, 370, 372n56, 374, 375, 376, 381, 382, 383, 385, 386, 387, 440, 444, 452, 489n14, 497, 498n34, 538, 539, 540, 553, 558, 559, 591, 594, 595, 596, 598, 643, 644, 646, 648, 651, 659, 667, 696, 706, 834 al-Ẓāhir Baybars (Mamluks) 225n34, 240, 266, 267, 268, 269, 272n44, 275, 279n77, 280, 281, 282, 291, 304, 305, 306, 307, 308, 309, 311–20, 322, 323, 327, 330, 331, 332, 333, 336, 343n11, 517, 530, 531, 532, 533, 534, 536, 543, 557, 558, 581, 582, 585 n. b, 593, 638, 639, 643, 646n24, 654, 695n36, 698, 751n46, 835n55 al-Ẓāhir Jaqmaq (Mamluks) 23, 24, 68, 75, 78, 79, 83, 84, 85, 215, 245, 246, 250, 251, 255n134, 376, 491, 496n33, 520, 521, 522, 558, 559, 640n5, 644, 646, 647, 648, 650, 651, 705, 715n20, 726, 729, 730, 760, 788, 789, 794, 835 al-Ẓāhir Khushqadam (Mamluks) 75, 249, 253, 485, 486, 487, 489, 491, 498, 503, 504, 523, 604, 606, 607, 609, 610, 614, 616, 734, 735, 736, 794

881 al-Ẓāhir Ṭaṭar (Mamluks) 459, 494n28, 585, 693n32 al-Ẓāhir Timurbughā (Mamluks) 486, 604, 614 al-Ẓāhir Yalbāy (Mamluks) 604, 614 al-Ẓāhirī, Badr al-Dīn Bakmish (Mamluk envoy) 285, 288, 289 Zakariyyāʾ I b. Aḥmad al-Liḥyānī, Abū Yaḥyā (Hafsids) 535, 555, 556, 557, 757 Zakariyyāʾ II b. Yaḥyā IV, Abū Yaḥyā (Hafsids) 551, 558 al-Zandī, Abū ʿUmar (Abyssinian envoy) 652 Zar’a Yā’eqob (Abyssinia) 642, 644, 645, 646, 647, 650, 652 Zaraʿ Hamnānūn (Abyssinian envoy) 651 Zawistān 632 Zāwulistān 627 Zayd b. S̱ābit/Thābit 630 Zaydān, Yusrā Aḥmad ʿAbdallāh 155 Zaydis 204n135, 541, 542, 544, 545 al-Zaylaʿī, ʿAbdallāh (Abyssinian envoy) 644 Zayn al-ʿĀbidīn Shāhī Khān (Kashmir) 611 Zemzem 543 Zhejiang 824, 823, 824, 825, 826n15, 829 Zīrak (Ilkhanid envoy) 293 Zorzi, Alessandro 649 Zuhrat al-nāẓirīn wa-nuzhat al-nādhirīn 41