The Final
Flowering*
by Tor Eigeland
Al Hambra (Qasr Al Hamara - The Palace of Hamra) of Granada
That Muslim Seville was captured by the Christians with the aid of
Muslim troops from Granada is not as surprising as it might appear
at first glance. Political alliances, as well as marriages, between
Christian and Muslim were common in Spain, and in any case Granada's
taifa King Ibn al-Ahmar had little choice. His little kingdom, which
reached down to the south coast between Gibraltar and Almeria, could
easily have been overrun by the Christians had he refused to join
Ferdinand III of Castile in attacking Seville.
In a sense Ibn al-Ahmar personifies the achievements, the failures
and the sad romanticism that pervades the story of Islam in al-Andalus.
He was the man who planned the glorious palace- fortress called the
Alhambra. He was a petty princeling who like other throughout
Islamic Spain diverted Islamic strength into the endless wars that
opened the way to Christian reconquest. And throughout his reign,
his small kingdom was corroded with intrigue, the political cancer
that slowly, over the centuries, consumed both the caliphate and its
innumerable offshoots.
Ibn al-Ahmar, king of Granada, was of Arab descent, born in al-Andalus.
Starting out as the lord of a castle near Cordoba, he was just a
little more successful than the other feuding taifa kings and
leaders. Gathering supporters as he invaded one territory after
another, he captured Jaen about 1231 and then, in 1235, Granada, to
which, in 1245, he moved his capital.
By then, of course, Christian Spain was closing in on al-Andalus,
and in response Ibn al-Ahmar had become the vassal of the Christian
King Ferdinand III. But then he was faced with a cruel choice: join
the Christians in their final assault on Muslim Seville--as a loyal
vassal must--or risk extinction. He chose to help Ferdinand and
Granada survived. But on his return, as the Granadans hailed him as
victor, he gave a quiet reply that hinted at his feelings and was
later inscribed in the Alhambra: "There is no victor but God."
Since then, historians have speculated on the reasons why the
Christians chose not to take Granada any way. One reason may have
been that they no longer saw a threat in this little kingdom.
Another could be that it made a convenient "reservation" for the
Moors where they could mind their own business and pay taxes. In any
case, Granada, the last Muslim kingdom in Spain, survived--for more
than two and a half centuries, in fact--and nearly 100,000 Moorish
refugees from throughout Andalusia poured in. They doubled the size
of the kingdom, enriching it with the artisans, intellectuals, poets
and merchants who were to con- tribute significantly to the final
flowering of Islamic culture in Spain.
Ecstatic writers, Muslim and Christian, past and present, have
praised Granada and its glories. Perhaps it is because
Granada--unlike the beautifully preserved historical city of Toledo,
which is almost an outdoor museum--has succeeded in combining its
many parts, its cultural past, its pleasant climate, its splendid
setting among snow-clad mountains, rivers and fertile plains, to
become uniquely itself, alive and lovely. Or perhaps it is because
Granada is crowned by that incomparable palace-city, the Alhambra.
But whatever the reason, the praise has been profuse and unending.
One example is the extravagant description written by Ibn al-Khatib,
vizier and historian of Granada, in his work "The Full Moon Splendor
of the Nasrid Dynasty": "The city is today the metropolis of the
coastal towns (Granada is about 30 miles from the Mediterranean),
illustrious capital of the whole kingdom, a great marketplace for
traders, a pleasing hostess to travelers of all nations, a perpetual
garden of flowers, a splendid orchard of fruit trees, an enchantment
for all living creatures, the center of public finance, a place
famous for its fields and forts, a vast sea of wheat and fine
vegetables and an inexhaustible source of silk and sugar. Nearby
soar lofty peaks, notable for the whiteness of their snow and the
excellence of their water . . . The area abounds in gold, iron,
silver, lead, pearls and sapphires, and its woods are full of blue
gentian and lavender . . . There is not a shadow of doubt that the
clothes made of silk surpass the silks of Syria in softness,
delicacy and lasting quality."
Writing about the setting, he was equally enthusiastic: "The great
city of Granada with its suburbs lies partly on the hills and partly
on the plain. It is not easy to describe the comfort and beauty
provided there by the mildness of the winds and breezes, the
solidity of the bridges, the magnificence of its temples and breadth
of its squares. The famous River Darro rises at its eastern confines
and flows through the town, dividing its suburbs, then changes and
meets the River Genil which, after lapping the city walls, flows on
through the spacious plain, now swollen by other torrents and
streams, and finally directs its proud course, Nile-like, towards
Seville . . . The streams flow in different directions, sometimes to
supply the baths, sometimes to work the water mills, the income from
which is earmarked for the restoration of the city walls . . . There
are about 300 villages and 130 water mills in the immediate vicinity
of Granada and 50 colleges and temples within the city."
Housed in this city was the greatest concentration of craftsmen
anywhere in Spain at any time--the Muslim artisans who had lived all
over the peninsula and had flocked to Granada as the Christians,
kingdom by kingdom, drove the Muslims south.
By this time their crafts had become more refined and elaborate than
during the Cordoba and Seville ascendancies and their famous silks,
gold and silver embroideries, wood veneer inlaid with infinite skill
and patience, embossed leather, carpets, ceramics, ivory, filigreed
silver and fine arms had won fame-- and markets--in Christian Spain,
northern Europe and Africa.
Out of this fusion of craftsmanship and prosperity, Ibn al-Khatib
suggests, came a citizenry that to him seemed physically and
socially superior: "The people of Granada are orthodox in religious
matters . . . They are loyal to their kings and extremely patient
and generous. They are generally slim, of medium height and
well-proportioned, with black hair. They speak an elegant form of
Arabic, and their speech is full of proverbs and occasionally rather
too abstract. In discussion they tend to be unyielding and
hot-headed.
Like the Persians they dress in fine clothes of silk, wool and
cotton, striped in subtle shades. In winter they wrap themselves in
the African cloak or the Tunisian burnous. In summer they wear white
linen
The faithful assembled in the temples, arrayed in their many-hued
clothing, present the appearance of a spring meadow covered in
flowers . . . Among the ornaments thought particularly tasteful by
the princesses and ladies of Granada are girdles, sashes, garters
and coifs, exquisitely worked in faceted gold and silver. Precious
stones such as zircons, topazes and emeralds glisten amid their
finery. The women of Granada are graceful, elegant and svelte.
It is rare to find one who is ill- proportioned. They are neat, take
great pains to arrange their long hair and delight in displaying
their ivory-like teeth. The breath from their kips is as sweet as
the perfume of a flower
Their charms are highlighted by their graceful manners, exquisite
discretion and delightful conversation. It is regret- table,
however, that we are reaching a moment in which the women of Granada
are carrying the magnificence of their attire and adornment to the
brink of fantasy."
Describing the Alhambra, which was begun by Ibn al-Ahmar in 1238 and
enlarged and perfected by his Nasrid successors, Ibn al-Khatib was
oddly restrained: "The regal residence of the Alhambra presents a
fine appearance, rising like a second city. The enclosure is
embellished with lofty towers, thick walls, sumptuous halls and
other elegant buildings
Sparkling torrents rush downwards, soon to become quiet brooks that
murmur through the shady woods. Just like the city below, the
Alhambra has so many orchards and gardens that the palace turrets
are glimpsed amid a canopy of foliage, like bright stars in the
night sky."
But if Ibn al-Khatib was restrained, subsequent writers were not.
The Moors left Granada some 500 years ago, but physically the
Alhambra is still one of the loveliest palaces anywhere.
Its lofty beauty was achieved with simple materials such as wood,
carved stucco, tiles in geometric patterns and the repetitive
application of Arabic lettering or calligraphy. Everywhere
water--laughing, burbling, pouring, sparkling, leaping, or dead
still in order to reflect the blue sky, the towers, the flowers,
myrtles and the elegant cypress trees. The Alhambra is a perfect
fusion of the efforts of man and nature, and a fitting monument to
the civilization that even then was crumbling.
The final years were not unlike the preceding years: there were
occasional incursions of Berber tribes from North Africa, frequent
raids and counter-raids among rival factions within Spain. But
commerce continued as before and, in general, there was extensive
mixing between Muslims and Christians.
Towards the end, unfortunately, a new, less pleasant spirit began to
grow, especially in the north, as tensions mounted between the
Christians on the one hand and the Mudejars and Jews on the other.
Part of the reason for this was simply envy; although the Christians
again held political power they saw that their subjects were less
prosperous.
The Mudejar population in the north, like the overseas Chinese in so
many places today, worked hard, saved their money, paid their taxes
and were model citizens. Generally they were much more skilled than
their Christian neighbors in the arts and crafts as well as in the
cultivation of land. As for the Jews, many had reached high
positions within the Christian community as administrators,
merchants, doctors and tax collectors.
Then, in 1453, news reached that the Ottoman Turks had taken
Constantinople and the old Christian fear of Islam was fueled. It
smoldered uneasily through 16 years in which tensions and frontier
skirmishing increased until, in 1469, the marriage of Ferdinand of
Aragon and Isabella of Castile fanned it into flames.
This marriage constituted a powerful union. Ferdinand was a gifted
soldier, diplomat and politician and Isabella had a forceful--some
say bigoted--character. The marriage, in any case, signaled the last
assault on Granada, a campaign carefully planned by Ferdinand and
Isabella and well financed.
The King and Queen even convinced the Pope to declare their war a
Crusade. The Christians crushed one center of resistance after
another and finally, in January 1492, after a long siege, the
Moorish king of Granada, Muhammad abu Abdallah, known as Boabdil,
surrendered the fortress palace of Alhambra itself.
Observing the surrender were two men. One, by coincidence, was a man
who would make history that same year: Christopher Columbus, who had
come to speak to Isabella and seek her royal patronage. Another was
an eyewitness who left a vivid account of the surrender in a letter
to the Bishop of Leon: "The Moorish king, with about 80 or 100 on
horseback, very well dressed, went forth to kiss the hand of their
Highnesses whom they received with much love and courtesy (Some
historians believe that the contrary was true--the Highnesses were
rude and condescending), and there they handed over to him his son,
who had been hostage from the time of his capture, and as they stood
there, there came about 400 captives, of those who were in the
enclosure, with the cross and a solemn procession singing Te Deum
Laudamus and their Highnesses dismounted to adore the cross to the
accompaniment of the tears and reverential devotion of the crowd,
not least of the Cardinal and Master of Santiago and the Duke of
Cadiz and all the other grandees and gentlemen and people who stood
there, and there was no one who did not weep abundantly with
pleasure giving thanks to Our Lord for what they saw, for they could
not keep back the tears; and the Moorish king and the Moors who were
with him for their part could not disguise the sadness and pain they
felt for the joy of the Christians, and certainly with much reason
on account of their loss, for Granada is the most distinguished and
chief thing in the world, both in greatness and in strength as also
in richness of dwelling places, for Seville is but a straw hut
compared to the Alhambra."
The famous Spanish poet Garcia Lorca, himself from Granada, has said
of this junction: "It was a disastrous event, even though they say
the opposite in schools. An admirable civilization and a poetry,
architecture and delicacy unique in the world--all were lost. . ."
Boabdil sadly rode off into oblivion, but his subjects were allowed
to stay on, and for a brief period the future even looked bright for
them. Surprisingly, the defeated ruler had obtained very favorable
terms of surrender.
The Muslims were guaranteed virtual self-government, freedom of
movement, complete religious freedom and even a three-year from
taxes after the surrender. After that they were to pay no more than
they had under Nasrid rule.
Europeans elsewhere were exasperated by the Spanish attitude, and
unable to understand why the Moors had not all been expelled or
slaughtered after the victory. They failed to realize that, for all
their fighting, after 800 years of coexistence and mixed marriages
the Christians and the Moors had, in spite of themselves, become
very much alike. Also, in the final centuries the Christians had to
a large extent lived off taxes paid by their Mudejar population as
well as by the Muslim vassal kingdoms
The Catholic kings, moreover, must have known that if they had
thrown the Moors out abruptly, much of the peninsula's flourishing
trade would have come to an end. Nor did they want large depopulated
areas.
Nevertheless, the end did come soon. In 1499 the primate of Spain,
Ximenez de Cisneros, arrived in Granada and was soon applying strong
pressure on the Muslims to become Christian. Three years later the
Muslims were told simultaneously that they must convert or
leave--and that they would not be allowed to leave.
In 1526 the Inquisitor General moved to Granada to speed things up.
But the process dragged on for years with many Muslims pretending
conversion to survive--they were called Moriscos--and other
rebelling. There were, for example, serious uprisings in the
Alpujarra mountains near Granada; one was so long and well fought
that Philip II of Spain finally had to call in Austrians to put an
end to it.
Eventually, between 1609 and 1614, Spain gave expulsion orders to
the Moriscos. Only six percent were to be allowed to stay, most of
whom were children and their mothers, and some 250,000 to 500,000
Moriscos were driven out.
During the journey into exile, it is estimated, up to three quarters
of the exiles died and Henry Charles Lea, writing on Moriscos
expelled from Aragon, provided a description of their fate: "There
was one body of some 1,400 souls, that was refused admission to
France . . . They had paid 40,000 ducats for permission to go to
France besides the export duties on what they carried and the
expense of commissioners in charge of them.
Forced to turn back on the long road to Alfaques, so many of them
sickened and died in the summer heat that it was feared that they
would bring pestilence to the ships."
With that footnote the long history of al-Andalus came to its end.
*Aramco World Magazine (Sep-Oct 1976) |
