By
Habeeb Salloum
Besides
the food crops, the Muslim brought to the Iberian Peninsula the cotton plant,
which in Spanish is called algodon from the Arabic alqutn. They also
developed the silk industry, to make Al-Andalus one of the major silk
manufacturing countries of the medieval world. The fine fabrics of which
The wealth generated by agriculture would have been insignificant were it not for the excellent irrigation system the Muslim constructed throughout Al-Andalus. When these former sons of the desert first came to the peninsula, they found a primitive form of a Roman irrigation network. After making a scientific study of the land, they improved this network greatly, completing many hydraulic projects for irrigating their whole domain. There is little doubt that the intricate canal network was responsible for producing the thriving crops in the Muslim era. The lush huerta surrounding The Valenican huerta was only one of the areas in The excellent land-watering system constructed by the Muslims throughout Al-Andalus is attested to by the Spanish language, rich in Arabic loan words in the field of irrigation from names of the waterways to the laws and administration of the system irrigation ditch (acequia-al-saqiya), pool (alberca-al-birka) and irrigating duty (alfarda or farda-alfarda). More than the pen of any historian, these words tell the story of the Arab impact on the irrigation system in The introduction of new crops with the accompanying irrigation generated a great deal of wealth. This gave rise to an affluent society which appreciated the beauty of nature and that created by man. The forests were protected, new types of trees and flowers were cultivated and number of wild flowers, grasses and shrubs were identified and named. Many of these still carry their Arabic-derived names: safflower (alazor-al-asfur), alfalfa (al-fasfasa) and acorn (bellota-balluta). The famous botanists of Muslim Spain, Ibn Bassal, Ibn al-Wafid, Ibn al-Hajjaj and Ibn al-Awwam, have left us a great deal of material on the productivity and fertility of plants and general agricultural practices. In the twelfth century Ibn al-Awwam wrote a treatise on agriculture which was translated into the Romance languages of the Middle Ages. It lists 584 species of plants and gives precise instructions regarding their cultivation and use. He also wrote about methods for grafting trees and how to produce hybrids, stop the blight of insects, and create floral essences of perfume. With flowers, shrubs and trees, the Muslims built gardens to a grand artistic perfection. The passion for gardens and flower-filled courtyards was a deep love in the heart of every Muslim. This is reflected in the words of chroniclers who have left us first hand and precise knowledge about the Moorish courtyards during the Muslim era. As a result of this legacy, Next of importance to the produce of the land in the Muslim age was sheep raising and the wool industry it generated. The head-shepherd (rabadan-rabb al-da'n), a flock of sheep with different owners (rehala-rahata), a head of cattle (res-ra's), and a young shepherd playing his flute (zaga playing his alboque-zaghlul playing his al-bug ) are Spanish words directly taken form the Arabs. Perhaps even more interesting are the names and words derived form Arabic which permeate Spanish rural life. These tell their own story of how great the imprint the Muslims left in the land of EI-Cid (Al-sayyid). From the 8,000 basic Spanish words derived from Arabic, a large number relate to farming and the countryside: village aldea-al-day's), flour-mill (tahona-tahuna) and mule-driver (almocrebe-al-mukari), for example. Of all the facets of country life in which one sees the mark of the Muslims, the home is the place where they left their greatest imprint. The beauty and comfort of the Andalusian abode of today is no different than that of the Muslim home in Arab Spain. A Spanish housewife goes about her tasks (tarea-tarihah) cleaning the tiles (azulejos-al-zulayj) and door-knocker (aldaba-al-dabba. As the masons (albaniles-al-banna toil, they drink from a water-jug (jara-jarrah) by letting a stream from the spout fall through the air into their mouths- a method of drinking brought into Spain by the Muslims. The Spanish words of Arabic origin relating to rural life and the home are only one side of the coin. The countryside, especially in southern and eastern The expulsion of the Muslims from Muslim Spain, which covered a little more than 50 percent of the Iberian Peninsula, by its advanced farming techniques supported a population of 30 million-more than the inhabitants of all the European countries in that era. It was many years before that remainder of |
Spain 's Islamic era can teach
us plenty about tolerance
Date
Posted: Monday, December 13, 2004
By Sarah-Ann Smith
Dec. 11, 2004
My recent trip to Spain has
prompted some thoughts about our post-Sept. 11, 2001, relationship to the
Islamic world. A wonderful book, "The Ornament of the World" by Maria
Rosa Menocal, had excited my interest in Spain 's medieval Islamic period,
and I had to see the relics of that beautiful culture for myself.
The highlight of my visit was the
awe-inspiring Cordoba
mosque. Now a Christian cathedral, it is so vast that its mysterious Islamic
flavor still dominates. This immense space, the equivalent of about four city
blocks, reflects the best in the religious tradition of Spain 's Islamic
rulers.
The structure's history
symbolizes the universality of the human need to connect with the divine. The
Islamic - and now once again Christian - edifice rests on and incorporates the
remains of a Roman temple which had been converted into a Christian church by
the Visigoths who ruled that part of Spain until they were defeated by
the invading Muslims in the 8th century.
The mosque's dominant feature is
a forest of horseshoe- shaped arches of alternating red brick and white stone
which define and separate the aisles. They go on and on, seemingly into an
endless space. Standing in the midst of them, one is caught up in the
timelessness and universality of the spiritual impulse, deeper than any
specific religious tradition.
The experience recalled my visit to
the only living mosques I've ever entered, in Indonesia . The tall, open
architecture, punctuated by columns, filled with kneeling worshipers, shoeless
to show respect for the space and the God beyond it, evokes a sense of calm and
peace that is quite extraordinary in contrast to the dominant idea we have of
the Muslim religion, based on political events of the past several years.
It is often difficult to reach
beyond those events to recognize the human, and even religious, bonds that
connect us to the best in the Islamic tradition. In this respect, perhaps we
can learn something from Spain 's
experience.
The other great remnant of the
Islamic Spanish culture is the Alhambra , the
collection of palaces, gardens and fortresses that stands high above the city
of Granada . The
buildings' open style, peaceful spaces and still-working fountains, Muslim
hallmarks, reflect the style and underlying philosophy of the architecture of
the mosques themselves.
More important than the remains
of the buildings is the culture they recall. In Islamic Spain adherents of all
the three great Western religions - Judaism, Christianity and Islam - coexisted
under a government that recognized their common biblical foundations. The
Islamic system protected and gave each a place in the society as a whole - a
place more tolerant by far than that accorded Jews and Muslims in the
succeeding Christian era, dominated by the horrors of the Spanish Inquisition.
As Menocal notes, "This was
the chapter of Europe 's culture when Jews,
Christians and Muslims lived side by side and, despite their intractable
differences and enduring hostilities, nourished a complex culture of tolerance
... it found expression in the often unconscious acceptance that contradictions
... could be positive and productive."
The era ended in 1492, with the
Spanish Christian monarchs Isabella and Ferdinand conquering the Alhambra , the last Muslim stronghold, and also expelling
the Jews from Spain
(as well as financing Christopher Columbus's journey of discovery).
Some Jews remained, perhaps as
many as half the total number, along with an Islamic remnant, both being
required to convert to Christianity. But, for the Jews at least, as
contemporary Spanish writer Antonio Munoz Molina notes, "those who stayed
behind ended up as alien in their homeland as those who left ... scorned not
only by those who should have been their brothers in their new religion but
also by those who remained loyal to the abandoned faith."
Thus, Molina demonstrates,
present-day Spain
continues to struggle with a past characterized by a diversity that its
Christian rulers spurned 500 years ago. The Muslim issue has again become one
that must be dealt with, and not only in terms of the terrorist threat
demonstrated so tragically in last spring's train bombings that killed 192
people.
In 2003 a new mosque was opened
in Granada to
serve the city's estimated 15,000 Muslims. It was financed in large part by a United Arab Emirates
sheik, to show, in the aftermath of Sept. 11, he reportedly said, "that
Islam is fundamentally moral rather than political in nature." At the
opening ceremony Granada 's
deputy mayor expressed the hope that the mosque would promote the religious
tolerance that characterized the city in the past.
This event was far from free of
controversy. The mosque's construction was delayed for years, partly by the
opposition and lawsuits of local residents. And since the March bombings, many
Spaniards have been even more nervous about the increasing numbers of North
African Muslim immigrants, since the main suspects in the bombings are
Moroccans. Others, however, recognize the importance of a dialogue with
moderate Muslims. Spaniards' ambivalence is currently being played out in the
trial of suspected terrorists, at which the former and current prime ministers
are testifying.
From the point of view of an
ordinary traveler, it appears that the understandable nervousness in the wake
of the March bombings has not resulted in a paranoid anticipation of repeated
terrorist acts. And the tourist industry at least is more than happy to
highlight the magnificence of the remains of Spain 's Islamic past.
Back home, I keep thinking of
Spain's experience, contemporary and historical, in all its complexity, and
realize that, for better or worse, we're all in this post- Sept. 11 world
together - Christian, Muslim, Jew and, yes, secularist.
And the only way to genuine peace
and security, and freedom from fear, is through tolerant acceptance and
appreciation of our differences and mutual encouragement of the best in all our
traditions. We could do far worse in this respect than imitating Spain 's Islamic
era at its best.
Sarah-Ann Smith, a former diplomat, holds graduate degrees in
international politics and in theology. She is currently a community member of
the Citizen-Times editorial board.
A GLIMPSE FROM A MUSLIM'S TRAVELOGUE
by
Dr. S.M. Ghazanfar
Copyright © 1999, All Rights Reserved.
This material may not be published, edited, or rewritten. Copyrights and Terms of Use.

Dr. S.M. Ghazanfar
Copyright © 1999, All Rights Reserved.
This material may not be published, edited, or rewritten. Copyrights and Terms of Use.

Dr. S.M. Ghazanfar travelled to Spain in December 1998. The web
version of his travelogue, originally written in June 1999, is presented here
by permission of the author. Dr. Ghazanfar is a long-time resident of the U.S.A. He was
born in pre-partitioned India ,
migrated to Pakistan in 1947
and moved to the USA
as a student in 1958. Currently, he is Professor and Chair, Department of
Economics, University of Idaho , Moscow ,
Idaho 83843 ,
USA . E-mail:
ghazi@uidaho.edu

This article is
a travelogue of impressions from a recent visit to Spain . For a Muslim who has some
familiarity with Islamic history in the Iberian peninsula of the Mediterranean,
a visit to Spain
is almost like a pilgrimage. However, unlike the pilgrimage to Mecca ,
such a visit can be spiritually and emotionally agonizing, for one is
overwhelmed by manifestations of European Islam in Spain (Al-Andalus, as it was then
known). That was the era of the Golden Age of
Islam, from early 8th century to late 15th century, almost coincidental
with Dark Ages in the rest of Europe , when
Al-Andalus was the center of global civilization. And the capitol city of Cordoba was Europe 's largest - the city of books, of patrons of great
literary figures and of men who were explorers of knowledge. There existed no
separation between science, wisdom, and faith; nor was East separated from the
West, nor the Muslim from the Jew or the Christian. It was here that the European Renaissance
began and flourished beyond.
For decades I
had longed to visit Spain ,
not only for its legendary charm and picturesque beauty but, more importantly,
to experience the heritage of almost 800 years of Islamic presence. In December
1998, I traveled to Spain
for the purpose of participating in a colloquium, sponsored by the Paris-based International
Society for the Study of Arab and Islamic History and Science (in
conjunction with Spanish universities). The conference theme pertained to the
contributions of Cordoba 's
most important intellectual, Death of Ibn Rushd (known
as Averroes in the West; Philosophy, Law, Medicine, Astronomy, Theology)
in commemoration of his 800th death anniversary. The trip also provided me an
opportunity to experience Spain 's
Islamic heritage. That heritage, indeed, has its reminders in every nook and
corner of contemporary Spain ,
but especially in the province
of Andalucia . That is
where the two most prominent monuments of Islam's legacy are located: Granada (Arabic Gharnata) and Cordoba (Arabic Qurtaba); both are United
Nations' "Heritage of Humanity" cities. Of course, these cities are
well-maintained by Spanish Government, for, aside from the "heritage"
aspects, both are huge sources of tourist revenue, even though, in times past,
Catholic fanaticism had tried to destroy all vestiges of the Islamic heritage.
Soon after landing in Madrid (Arabic Majrit, a
kind of a breeze), I took a night train to Granada , arriving there the next morning.
When Muslims
(Arabs and Berbers) arrived in Spain
during early eighth century, they thought they had discovered heaven on earth.
Water being somewhat of a luxury for them, they found it in the snows of Spain 's
mountain peaks. By a series of intricate channels, they directed water into the
palace grounds and onto plains below. Still today in Granada
one gets a glimpse of paradise (so described even by many subsequent visitors
and travelers as well) in the majesty of Alhambra
Palace and the adjacent Generalife Gardens (Arabic Janna al-Arif, the
Garden of the Architect). Small streams carry the water to numerous fountains
and ponds, water even rushing over a stone stairway. One observes and hears
splashing and gushing water, with displays of color under the conifers--roses,
lilies, jasmine, etc. Aside from the luxury of the Palace itself, there are the
courtyards shaded by a variety of trees and cooled by fountains and underground
water channels, and walls decorated by patterned tiles. All through one feels
the presence of God Almighty, for there are Qura'anic verses inscribed on the
walls, the most prominent and ubiquitous being: "Wa la ghalib illa
Allah" (There is no victor but Allah).
As one walks
through Alhambra
and the Gardens, one vicariously absorbs into the past and begins to experience
an enormous sense of pride and awe at the glory that was Islam. But as I walked
through the Palace, the tour-guide pointed out, among others, the
"Ambassador's Hall," where the Muslim ruler, Abu Abdallah
("Boabdil," as the guide referred to him) had signed the treaty on November
25, 1491 for eventual surrender of Granada in January 1492 to the Catholic King
Ferdinand and Queen Isabel. [The Treaty of
Granada]. And, I remembered reading, when Abu Abdallah shed tears and
cried out, "Allah O'Akbar," his mother said to him, "Cry you
like women over a kingdom lost that you could not defend like a man." Thus
one feels the pain of an inglorious end to a glorious past, intensified further
by one's knowledge of a divided and impoverished present world of Islam,
subject to Western hegemony almost since the Crusades. Of course, I strongly
felt the tour-guide was inclined to understating the Arab-Islamic character of
these historic structures, as well as denigrating the Islamic rulers and
religion (e.g., "You have heard of sensuous Moors," "Islam
allows many wives," etc.). And the mostly non-Muslim, Western tourists,
given their own conditioning, seemed quite receptive. However, once my Muslim
identity became apparent, there was caution; the guide even stated that during
Islamic Spain, "Jews, Christians and Muslims lived together
peacefully."
There are
numerous other reminders of historic Islam in Granada . There are several smaller palaces
and there is the historic Albaican quarter (the Muslim quarter, where still
some Muslims live and where the former mosque stands as Church of El-Salvador).
Many churches, with domes and crosses on top in place of crescents and
bell-towers in place of the muezzin's ada'n, clearly revealed their
former status. There is the Gothic Cathedral, once the Great Mosque of Granada,
where the two Catholic monarchs, Ferdinand and Isabella, are buried. As I
visited the Cathedral, I saw more statues and paintings of Catholic icons than
I care to remember, reminding me of at least one of the reasons for the 16th
century Protestant split in Christianity.
One giant-sized
painting/sculpture that covered a large wall was most painful to absorb. It
showed a warrior on a horse and a dead man with his neck crushed, lying under
the horse's feet. The guide explained, "It is Santiago and his horse, slaying a
Muslim." When I asked further, she said, "It is the Apostle Santiago
who helped in the Christian victory over Islam." When I asked her about
the implied hate-message, she was slightly taken aback and asked if I was a
Muslim, and when I affirmed, her answer was, "well, it is just a
painting." Since that experience, I have learnt a little about the legend
of St. James ("Santiago "
in Spanish). When the Muslim commander, Ibn Abi Amir (also known as
"Al-Mansur bi Allah," meaning "victorious through God's
grace;" and "Almanzor" in the West), captured Leon in Northern Spain in the 10th century, his
troops caused much destruction, including the Church of Santiago de
Compostela . However, Al-Mansur preserved the
shrine of the Christian apostle St. James in that structure. Later, as the
Muslims lost ground, the myth of St. James was cultivated, and Santiago
"Matamoros " ("Santiago
the Moor-slayer") became known as the inspiration for the Christian
victory; thus, he became Spain 's
patron-saint.
And then during
the Cathedral visit, there was another interesting conversation with a another
tour guide. I asked him about the number of Muslims now in Spain . He said,
"Not many; only some youngsters are converting out of fashion."
"You mean they are not true to their new faith?" I asked. "No,
they will revert," he seemed confident. I said, "What if they don't?
Will there be another Inquisition?" There was a long pause. [Another 1985
travelogue: Valencia,
Granada and Cordoba].
From Granada , I proceeded by bus to Cordoba . As I was riding in the bus, I could
see, through the eyes of my eyes, the presence of Muslims in history,
especially conspicuous because I could see former mosques in every little town
along the way. And then, about every few miles, I could see forts and castles
on mountain tops, now displaying Christian symbols, as well as often churches
besides them. I could see flashbacks of Muslims tending to their olive groves,
developing new crops and agriculture technology, and living side-by-side
peacefully with their non-Muslim cousins. Yet I could also see them hiding
behind the hills and mountains, trying to escape the wrath of the 16th century
Inquisition, when their choice was to either be "baptized"
(and thus, be "saved"), or face deportation, or risk brutal death.
Among the
various monuments of Islamic Spain, the most intense yearning of my soul was to
experience the Grand Mosque (Le Mezquita) of Cordoba , built in the 8th century by Emir Abdul Rehman I,
but now called The Holy Cathedral. [The construction of the great mosque of Cordoba began in 786 CE
on a site purchased for 100,000 gold dinars]. Immediately after arriving at my
hotel in Cordoba
on December 8th, I was able to join a guided tour that took me to the Mosque.
As a Muslim, just being there was overwhelmingly therapeutic, for here, before
my own eyes, was about the most vivid reminder of the Golden Age of Islam, an
era that provided the roots of Europe 's
Enlightenment. In the open compound, there were ornate rows of orange trees,
with the Cathedral's bell-tower on one side, once the muezzin's
minaret. As we entered the Mosque, I could also see the Cathedral, which the
Catholic hierarchy, so as to emphasize the victory over Islam, built in the
center of the Mosque during early 16th century. While there was some
controversy at the time as to the building of the Cathedral, fortunately its
presence helped to preserve the Grand Mosque from complete destruction at the
hands of the new rulers. While standing in the Mosque, I felt spiritually
immersed in its serenity and grandeur. There were the majestic arches and
columns; there was the symmetry of chandeliers in all directions, interrupted
by the presence of the Cathedral. As I saw the mihrab, I was
instinctively drawn toward it. It was enclosed by a metal fence, but I could
see several Qura'anic verses on the walls, beautifully inscribed in Arabic
calligraphy, intertwined with colored tilework, and with Christian statues and
crosses above. Again, it was easy to flashback - and I could see myself
standing in prayers, shoulder to shoulder, along side such Muslim intellectual
giants of Cordoba as Ibn Hazam, Al-Qurtubi,
al-Maqqari, al-Ghafiqi, Ibn Tufayl, Ibn Rushd, Ibn Al-Arabi, and others who
once made Cordoba
the supreme intellectual center of the world.
Yet again, I
felt, as I did at Alhambra ,
that the tour guide was painstakingly linking the architectural beauty of the
Mosque more with the Romans and less with the centuries of Islamic presence.
During interactions with the guide, someone happened to ask about the origins
of bullfights in Spain
and, as though trying to link this violent sport with "terrorist"
Arabs, she responded, "Oh, the Arabs brought that here." Cautiously,
I interjected, for while I had heard several explanations as to the origins of
bull-fighting, that was not one of them. So I mentioned that one explanation I
had read somewhere went back to some Catholic legends, in that when Mariam
(Mary) was pregnant with Prophet Issa (Jesus Christ; peace be upon both), there
was an incident in which a bull was indignant to Mariam, so the bull became a
beast to be fought back. She said she had never heard of this. Fortunately, a
Catholic couple in the group from Barcelona
was able to confirm my story. I do not know the authenticity of this
explanation, however; but, whatever else, certainly contemporary bull-fighting
did not originate with the Arabs. [Mary and Jesus (peace
be upon them) and Jesus,
The Son of Mary (pbut) in the Holy Qur'an].
Then I
encountered a most painful experience in Cordoba 's
Grand Mosque. As the tour was in progress, I felt the urge to perform two nafls,
as tahat al-masjid. So I moved away from the group to a somewhat
remote corner and began my prayers. As I stood there, performing the second
raka'at, suddenly I felt the presence of an angry man, trembling with rage and
breathing straight into my face, admonishing me with his gestures and screaming
in Spanish, "No Muslim prayers.....No Muslim prayers" (so I
understood). Momentarily, I resisted the pressure of this Catholic security
guard; but he held and shook my arm, and forced me to break my niyat.
Obviously, I was annoyed - but far more intense was my spiritual agony, for
here was one of the most sacred heritages of Spanish Islam and as a Muslim, I
was being denied the freedom to say prayers. This was despite my knowledge that
post-Franco Spain
had become more tolerant and that even the Spanish Parliament had passed
legislation that accepted Islam, Judaism, Protestant Christianity as co-equals
with Catholicism. Despite my protests (to be fair, the guide and some others
joined my protest), the guard tightly held my arm and escorted me out of the
Mosque. As I stood outside the Mosque, the pain was unbearable and my eyes
filled with tears. And there I was, thinking of the late Allama Iqbal
(1873-1938) of the Indian sub-continent who visited this Mosque in 1932 (with
special permission from England, for until not long ago, Muslims and Jews were
forbidden to enter Spain) and, having encountered similar experiences, he
expressed his anguish in his poetry; thus, in his epic poem, "The Mosque
of Qurtaba," he bemoaned:
Oh Holy Mosque of Qurtaba, the
shrine for all admirers of art
Pearl of the one true faith, sanctifying Andalusia's soil
Like Holy Mecca itself, such a glorious beauty
Will be found on earth, only in a true Muslim's heart
Pearl of the one true faith, sanctifying Andalusia's soil
Like Holy Mecca itself, such a glorious beauty
Will be found on earth, only in a true Muslim's heart
As I stood there
outside the Mosque, I was thinking of the well-known tolerance and protection
that Islam has historically extended to other faiths. And my mind was occupied
by the thoughts of Allama Iqbal's most touching poems he wrote during his visit
to Spain .
I had carried them with me to Spain
and they became the source of some comfort in my pain. Of course, during the
next day or so, I cautiously returned to the Mosque, accompanied by a Muslim
colleague from France ;
and I was able to absorb its quiet spirituality more thoroughly.
But there is so
much more of Islam's legacy in Cordoba .
Guided by a city map, I decided to explore more by walking. Echoes of Cordoba 's grandeur remain
in the area around the Mosque, for it is typical of a Muslim town of small
palaces, built around watered courtyards, and to explore these streets is to
encounter unexpected joys: glimpses through open doors (which would have been
shut in Islamic times) reveal cool, tiled and flower-filled patios. Street
names in Arabic seemed common. "Alfaros" was the Arabic name of the
hotel where I stayed, with some of the specialty rooms also named in Arabic
(e.g., "Salon al-Zahra"). [Wonders of az-Zahra and
Other Andalusian Palaces]. And there were churches, castles, and
fortresses which would remind me of their Islamic past, either by their
structure or some inscriptions. As I walked along the banks of Guadalquivir
(derived from al-Wadi al-Kabir, or Great
River , in Arabic), I saw
the picturesque ruins of three flour-mills from the Islamic days, with a Roman
bridge standing in the background. On the other side of the bridge stood an
historic fort, the Tower of Calahorra (Arabic Qalah al-Harrah, or The Fort of
Freedom), which houses a small but excellent Arab-funded Islamic Museum. The
most spectacular sight, however, was that of a 9th century waterwheel (Spanish
noira, from Arabic al-na'urah) still standing in the river. During centuries
past, water used to be taken from here and transported through intricate
channels to the Mosque and the rest of the city. Near the Mosque is the Alcazar
(Al-Qasr in Arabic), built in the 8th century, the residence of the first
Ummayad emir, Abdur Rehman. Then, of course, I had to pay homage to Ibn Rushd
and visited his statue not far from the Mosque.
While I was
unable to say prayers in the Grand Mosque, I knew that there was at least one
functional mosque now in Cordoba .
And I had also known of the newly-founded Ibn Rushd Islamic University in the
vicinity of the Mosque. Upon some investigation, I located the university and
the mosque that is within it; and I went there for Friday prayers on December
11th. That visit turned out to be quite an experience by itself. It was most
moving to hear the sound of ada'an on the soil of Spain , where
the general environment is still rather hostile and where once even the
slightest suspicion of one's Islamic faith could lead to death. And, further, I
discovered this irony: the university and the mosque are now located almost
exactly at the spot where so much of the Islamic past was destroyed: religious
scriptures and thousands of books written by Islamic scholars. This was also
one of the spots where Muslims used to be burnt at the stake for their refusal
to be baptized or for suspicion that they were not quite "Christian."
Those who thus converted by force became known as Moriscos.
Most Andalusians have that Morisco past even today, though over the centuries
their identity is so thoroughly lost in the larger society that hardly anyone
remembers or wants to remember, and any attempt to remind them arouses
surprise, even ridicule and hostility (as I discovered for myself!). Of course,
the Jews, though less numerous, had suffered similar fate in Spain , and
those "baptized" were known as Conversos.
In the
University's mosque, I met some native young Spaniards (including three women)
who, having discovered their roots and/or having formally studied comparative
religion, had embraced Islam. In fact, it was most moving to hear the Friday khutba
from the mouth of a young Spanish Muslim, who spoke in fluent Arabic, and even
provided translation in English as well as Spanish! Of course, he also led the
prayers. As I think back of these young Spanish Muslims, I also reminisce about
what that guide in the Granada
cathedral had told me about the "young Spaniards converting out of
fashion."
Then, at the
University, I met the University's Rector, Dr. Ali M. Kettani, a Moroccan by
origins [Dr. Kettani was the Director General of IFSTAD in the 1980s]. And it
was a pleasant surprise, for he and I had briefly known each other in the 1980s
when we were both located in Jeddah ,
Saudi Arabia . I
have not met many people with the dedication, enthusiasm and commitment to the
cause of Islam that I observed in Dr. Kettani. With his own almost
single-handed efforts, he has founded this small university in an environment
which, though officially tolerant, still exudes Catholic fanaticism; I was told
the university and mosque doors have to be locked all the time, for there have
been instances of violence and vandalism. The University currently enrolls some
students (Muslims and non-Muslims) and there are plans underway for expansion.
However, there is also a desperate need for financial resources (anyone willing
to contribute may contact the author).
And while
visiting the University, I also learnt of a most gruesome tragedy that a
prominent Muslim lady, Sabora Uribe, had suffered. Professionally a
psychiatrist, the wife of the President of the Federation of Spanish Muslim
Entities, the mother of five children, she had embraced Islam 20 years ago and
was the founder of the Women's Spanish Muslim Association (called
"Al-Nisa"). She was brutally murdered in a town near Cordoba on October 28, 1998. Some fanatic
entered the house at night and stabbed her to death, the apparent motive being
hatred for her Islamic faith and activities. The University has named one of
its classrooms in her memory. One of her children attends the Islamic
University in Cordoba .
At the end of
the Ibn Rushd colloquium and having absorbed as much of Cordoba
as I could with the time available, a colleague and I decided to make a quick
visit to Seville .
Of course, this city has its own Islamic heritage. I had read somewhere that
the Arabic name of Seville
was Ishbilyya. After the advent of Islam, the city's Roman name Hispalis was
'arabized' to Ishbilyya, from which is derived Seville , pronounced "Savellya" in
Spanish, which is almost the Arabic pronounciation. One of Islamic Ishbillya's
famous 12th century scholar was the Muslim botanist Abu Zakariyah al-Awwam
Ishibili who had identified nearly 600 plants and had developed methods of
grafting; in the usual Arab fashion, he is named "Ishibili" after the
city he came from. But there is more of Islamic past in Seville , submerged in the famous relics of
the Alcazar and the Cathedral/La Giralda.
About like the Alhambra Palace ,
Seville 's Alcazar
(Al-Qasr) is another architectural jewel from the early days of Islam. It was
built in the 8th century and then expanded in the 9th. Later the Christian
rulers made further additions, but in spite of the Gothic details, the entire
structure is essentially Islamic and follows the Islamic tradition of halls and
open courts with water fountains. The walls are covered in painted stucco and
glazed tiles. The blue and white inscription proclaims the same message that I
saw in Alhambra :
"wa la ghalib ill Allah" (There is no victor but Allah). Over the
vestibule doors are elongated voussoirs which make a nice introduction to more
fantasies. Multi-lobed arches support facades of a network of lace-like stone
and foliage in which lurk human faces besides the shields of Castile (added
during the Christian rule). There is the Hall of the Kings, with fine woodwork,
a triple horseshoe-arched arcade and deep alcoves. Then there is the "Hall
of the Ambassadors," with its similar triple arcades, sharply cut while
the ornament is so lavish that it would numb the senses were it not for the
vistas beyond. The dome is starlit above subdued muqarana squinches
(shoulders of masonry supporting the dome, with interlocking woodwork producing
the effect of stalactites) which catch and reflect the light. One of the most
elaborate plaster designs in one of the halls is a foliate lattice inset with
pine cones, some of which seemed crushed into thistle heads and others conjured
into three-dimensional shells.
After absorbing
the interior wonders of the Alcazar
Palace , I walked through
the well-trimmed hedges in the exterior, sat on the tiled benches and enjoyed
the beautiful flowers as the Muslim emirs and their entourage must have enjoyed
them when they were the masters. And I wondered: If only the Muslim architects
would come here to the land of their forefathers to study the beautiful
Andalusian architecture, what improvements could be made to the modern concrete
boxes that are common place. And how the sons of the desert became such
excellent gardeners and farmers still mystifies historians and scholars! They
introduced so many different types of plants in the West: lemons, oranges,
apricots, artichokes, dates, rice, sugarcane - it is a long list.
And then we
walked to Seville 's famous Cathedral and its La
Giralda (The Minaret) - the grandest of the minarets, rivaled only by its
parent, the kutubiyya of Marrakesh .
The Cathedral is now where the Great Mosque of Seville was built in 1172; and
the original minaret was built in 1198. The mosque was converted to Christian
use in 1248. Later it was demolished, except for the dome and the minaret, and
the Cathedral was built during the 15th century. I walked through the Cathedral
and absorbed what I could, and we even walked to the top of the 165-feet tall
minaret (no stairs, only gently sloping ramps). Aside from the visible dome and
the minaret (both now "Christianized," of course), an astute visitor
can also see the Cathedral's Islamic past in two other manifestations: an
Arabic-language wall plate as one enters the minaret that tells of its
architect, Abu Yusuf Ya'qub; and the huge entry gate whose doors not only have
the Islamic design but also 12th century Arabic inscriptions. There is nothing
inside the Cathedral that would suggest its Islamic past. There is the
thoroughly Gothic architecture inside, with dozens of statues and paintings of
Christian icons and other symbolisms. Yet, I was impressed by the Cathedral's
interior, not only for its grandeur and richness but also for the serene and
solemn atmosphere and the religious sanctity that it conveyed, much more than I
felt in Granada 's
Cathedral. I also saw in the Cathedral the tomb of Christopher Columbus, who,
after the 1492 fall of Islamic Granada, was charged by Isabella and Ferdinand
to seek out India .
[Columbus: What
If?]. But one factor that caused him to pursue that task by traveling
West was the Ottoman presence in the East; and guided by well-travelled Muslim
navigators, he happened to "discover" the Americas in the same year
(of course, many dispute and despise his adventures). [Islam and Columbus'
America].
While the
splendid monuments of Islamic history that one encounters in Spain represent a
tangible legacy of a great civilization, there are many others that are less
tangible and which are part of daily lives and taken for granted. Perhaps the
most telling example of continuing Islamic influence is the survival of myriad
Arabic words and phrases in the Spanish language, such as almirante (al-amir),
almohade (al-mohtasub), arroz (al-ruz), guitarra (qitar), aceituna (zaytuna),
and many others. Further, when one hears "Ole'! Ole'!" during
the Flamenco dances and Spanish bullfights, the unwitting reference is to
"Allah! Allah!" And when a Spaniard or Portuguese says "Oj'ala'"
(God willing), he probably does not even know that he is uttering the distorted
version of Arabic "Insha-Allah." [Names of Arabic
Origin...]. And there is so much more, including many customs and
traditions that go back to the Islamic past, despite the fact that during the early 15th
century Spanish Inquisition, anything with the slightest link to the
Arabic language or Islamic faith or practice was absolutely forbidden and
subject to the severest punishments.
Contemporary Spain vigorously promotes Alhambra and other monuments of Al-Andalus as
major tourist attractions. Yet, the promoters, including the tour-guides, do
not quite point out that these are legacies of nearly eight centuries during
which Muslims not only occupied Spain
but planted the roots of European Renaissance through unparalleled transfer of
knowledge in almost every field known. In other words, while Spain and the West are happy to inherit and
benefit from the legacy of Islamic Spain (with its own assimilation, to be
sure, of the rediscovered Greek reservoir of knowledge), there is stubborn
reluctance to acknowledging how that legacy contributed to Europe 's
ascendence. The American traveler, Washington Irving, observed this paradox when
he visited Spain
during early 18th century. The Spanish, he remarked, considered Muslims only as
"invaders and usurpers;" and that still seems to the case today.
Yet, given the
official acceptance of Islam in 1989, there is now freedom of religion in Spain , at least
officially. However, fanaticism still becomes visible at times, such as the
murder of a Muslim woman last October. According to information available from
the Islamic University of Cordoba, there are now about 500,000 Muslims living
in Spain
- about 100,000 citizens, the rest are foreigners. Of the citizens, about
20,000 are converts, the rest are naturalized. Most of the new Muslims live in
the Andalucia region, though one can find some in all regions of Spain . There
are about 200 mosques in Spain
today, 50 of them in the Andalucia region. At one time, of course, there were
over 1600 mosques in Cordoba
alone!
Finally, while I
have had the good fortune of having done some traveling here and there, none -
except my visits to Mecca and Medina
- surpasses the spiritual and emotional experience that I felt upon being
immersed for a few days into Spain 's
Islamic past. There is indeed a sense of pride and humility about the glorious
age of my forbearers in faith. This personal exposure to Islamic legacy, as
well as my other recent academic explorations into Islam's intellectual
contributions and their impact in the making of the West, are in the nature of
spiritual medicine, a sort of a therapy for the soul. Such encounters enable me
to escape into history books and thus help me in overcoming the sense of
inferiority and humiliation that haunts me as a Muslim; I suspect I am not
alone. Again I am recalling a verse from Allama Iqbal's poem, Hispania:
Indeed, my eyes observed and
absorbed Granada; but
My soul is at peace neither from travelling, nor stopping
Saw so much, absorbed so much; told so much, heard so much;
Yet, solace to the heart is neither from seeing, nor from hearing
My soul is at peace neither from travelling, nor stopping
Saw so much, absorbed so much; told so much, heard so much;
Yet, solace to the heart is neither from seeing, nor from hearing
While one can
seek solace in such lamentations of the late Allama, yet one also yearns for a
brighter Islamic future, as visualized in the writings of such universal
intellectual giants as Ibn
Sina (980-1037), Al-Ghazali
(Algazel, 1058-1111; Sociology, Theology, and Philosophy), and Ibn Rushd
(1126-1998). The meaning of life and its goal in Al-Andalus during its Islamic
apogee directed each act of daily living, as well as scientific explorations.
Such explorations were not set apart from wisdom and faith, and none can
express this delicately-balanced bliss better than Ibn Rushd. Thus, during my
visit to Cordoba's Islamic Museum, I noted this message from a recorded tape of
Ibn Rushd's remarks from his book, On the Harmony of Science and Religion:
(i) science, founded on experience and logic, to discover reason; (ii) wisdom,
which reflects on the purpose of every scientific research so that it serves to
make our life more beautiful; and (iii) revelation, that of our Qura'an,
as it is only through revelation that we know the final purposes of our life
and our history; Amen. Indeed, it is the gift of "reason" that the
then civilized Islam, through Ibn Rushd and others, gave to the then primitive Europe . And it was their impact that the late Allama
mentions in his poem, "The Mosque of Qurtaba:"
Those whose vision guided the
East and the West;
Who showed Dark Europe the path of Enlightenment
Who showed Dark Europe the path of Enlightenment
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