A History of Muslim Philosophy Volume 2

A History of Muslim Philosophy5%

A History of Muslim Philosophy Author:
Publisher: www.muslimphilosophy.com
Category: Islamic Philosophy

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A History of Muslim Philosophy

A History of Muslim Philosophy Volume 2

Author:
Publisher: www.muslimphilosophy.com
English

This book is corrected and edited by Al-Hassanain (p) Institue for Islamic Heritage and Thought


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Chapter 57: Music

“To some people music is like food, to others it is like medicine, and to others like a fan.”

Alf Lailah wa Lailah

These prefatory lines, serve as they do to provide a text on the lintel of the doorway to this subject, reminds one how widely dissimilar is the attitude of Islamic peoples towards the art and practice of music to that of others; music is indeed “like food,” since it often sustains when all else fails. You can scan Greek literature in vain for any such parallel sentiments. Music in its literal connotation was alien to Greek philosophy.

Aristoxenus certainly dealt with it, but his approach, devoid of the slightest hint of philosophic appeal per se, was a purely scientific one.1 It is true that the Pythagoreans had given a foretaste of the Islamic spiritual conception of music, but that was in the dim and distant past of Greece. What is more in keeping with the Greek evaluation of this art is to be found in Athenaeus of Naucratis (fl. 200 A. D.), whose utterances are mere entertaining chatter.2

A. The Music in Itself

“This art...is the foraging ground of audition, and the pasturage of the soul, and the spring grass of the heart, and the arena of love, and the comfort of the dejected, and the companionship of the lonely, and the provision of the traveller, because of the important place of the beautiful voice in the heart and its dominating the entire soul.”

Ibn ‘Abdi Rabbihi, al-‘Iqd al-Farid.

After reading the prologue to this chapter, one cannot help realizing how vastly different are the sentiments of Islamic peoples from those of the peoples of Greece and Rome on the assessment of music. And by music we mean that art which the noblest minds in Islam believed to be capable of being informed with and ennobled by thought, and in turn to adorn and enforce thought, and to be thus understood and felt. No better example of that percipience is to be found than one in the utterances of the Ikhwan al-Safa of the fourth/tenth century of Basrah, the home of the learning, who spoke of music as “an art compounded between the corporeal and the spiritual.”3

To these transcendental philosophers “all the arts had bodily forms except the art of music, whose substance was a spiritual essence.” With what felicity do the “Brethren” laud that type of music “which softens the heart, brings tears to the eyes, and makes us feel penitent over past misdeeds.” How well they knew the value of those soothing melodies “that lightened the pain of disease and sickness,” and those affecting airs which “comforted the aching hearts and eased the grief of the afflicted in times of calamity.” More practical still was their recognition of those songs “that relieved the toil of heavy work and wearisome undertakings,” as well as that music which gathered “joy, pleasure, and happiness...at weddings and banquets.”4 Indeed a veritable ocean of literature in praise of music has flowed down to us from the Islamic past, whilst poets have sung the sweetest verses in adulation.5

On the other hand, there have been many pious and honourable men among the legists (fuqaha’) who have considered music a useless pastime (lahw) which sometimes became an urge to commit actions which were unlawful (haram) or abhorred (makruh). Among those who condemned divine art were some of the most sincere of the Muslims, from ibn Abi al-Dunya (d. 281/894) in his “Censure of Forbidden Pleasures” (Dhamm al-Malahi),6 to Shihab al-Din al-Haithami (d. 973/1565) in his “Restraint of Impetuous Youth” (Kaff al-Ra‘a‘).7 Nobody can censure those opponents of music who sincerely believed that it was among the things prohibited (muharramut), since even Christian Europe linked “wine, woman, and song” among the “idle pleasures” (malahi).

Yet, strictly speaking, the objections of the purists in religion to “listening to music” (al-sama‘) has no logical raison d’etre. Calligraphy cannot be blamed on account of forgers, nor can accountancy be condemned because of defalcators. It would be just as illogical to forbid fruits and viands because of their concomitance with wine and woman as to censure music owing to its proximity to the latter. Music, per se, is neither good nor evil, although it may accompany both, yet it cannot be categorized or submitted to predicament.

In spite of all our probing and searching we still do not know the inner causes of emotion. Al-Farabi (d. 339/950) denied that music inspired a passion or soul-state.8 His guess was that music, whether in the performer or the listener, was itself inspired by a passion or soul-state. Ibn Zailah (d. 440/1048) held much the same view. He says, “When sound (saut) is adorned by harmonious and mutually related composition, it stirs the soul of man...Beginning on a low note and ascending to a high note, or vice versa, according to a particular arrangement and a known composition, it becomes related to the sentiments of the soul of man. As one note (naghmah), after another changes in the music, one state after another changes in the soul.

One composition will transport the soul from weakness to strength, and another from strength to weakness...Therefore, the composition which is possessed of certain sounds is possessed of certain qualities by which the soul is influenced.”9 All that is manifest to the meanest observer, but no one has yet told us what those “qualities” are. Fakhr al-Din al-Razi (d. 606/1209) states a more “up-to-date” opinion, and this, in substance, is what he has to say, “In the animal world sounds come into existence by reason of grief, pain, or joy. Those sounds, according to these circumstances, are different, being high or low, so, the law of association, those sounds become bound up with the different mental states which prompt them. Thus, when those sounds are renewed, they inevitably call up the related mental states, which may be grief, pain, or joy.”10

From the purely Islamic point of view, ibn Zailah also raises a point worth mentioning. He says, “Sound produces an influence on the soul in two directions. One is on account of its special composition (i.e. its physical content), the other, on account of its being similar to the soul (i.e. its spiritual content).”11 A Persian mystic, al-Hujwiri (fifth/11th century), divides those who listen to music into two categories: those who listen to the material sound and those who hear the spiritual meaning. That ecstatic maintained that those who heard spiritually did not apprehend mere notes (naghamat), modes (maqamat), or rhythms (iqa‘at), but music per se, insisting that such audition “consists in hearing everything as it is in quality and predicament.”12

That doctrine takes us to the very core of Sufi teaching in which “listening to music” under such spiritual control conduces to ecstasy, which leads to a revelation of the Divine. Did not Schopenhauer suggest that the world itself is but music realized, and was not that what the Ikhwan al-Safa had taught a thousand years earlier?

Yet of all the great thinkers of Islam no one has probed to the heart of the problem with such power of persuasion and solicitude of purpose, and reached a conclusion of such profundity as al-Ghazālī (d. 505/1111). How penetrating are his words, “Hearts and innermost thoughts are mines of secrets and treasuries of precious stones. Within their confines are jewels which are as sparks contained in iron and steel...And there is no other way of extracting their secrets except by the flint of ‘listening to music’ (al-sama‘), because there is no means of reaching the hearts except through the portals of the ears.13 ...Verily, ‘listening to music’ is a factual touchstone,… for as soon as the soul of music reaches the heart, it brings out whatever pre-dominates in it.”14 That was also the dominating thought of Abu Sulaiman al-Darani (d. c. 205/820), who averred that “music and singing do not produce in the heart that which is not in it.”

As our opening lines from the Alf Lailah wa Lailah reveal there is much more in music than its being merely an ancillary to those things which are unlawful and abhorred, and those who base their objection to music on the Holy Qur’an and the Hadith must know that they can be answered by proofs to the contrary from these identical and revered sources.15 Ibn Khaldun (d. 808/1406), the greatest of the philosopher-historians of Islam, did not touch directly on the question of al-sama‘ in the legal aspect. We do not know his reasons for that apparent neglect, but the fact that he devotes a chapter in his Prolegomena to music is sufficient proof of his attitude, which was that of the rational man.

To him, man was a social animal who was good by nature.16 It follows, therefore, that man should seek to satisfy certain natural desires in his leisure hours, such as the need for healthy relaxation, the wish to acquire knowledge, and the urge to listen to sweet music.17 All such longings were perfectly reasonable, and since man could discern what was good or evil in those desires, he could, by experience, make such desires always beneficial both socially and spiritually, provided the intention in those desires were good. If that were the case, the desires were lawful.18

The Sufi and the darwish have eloquently defended their attitude in the usage of music in their ceremonials by proofs that are unanswerable by its condemners. Perhaps the most trenchant defence was made by the brother and successor of the great al-Ghazālī, who was known as Majd al-Din al-Tusi (d. 520/1126), and this is what he said, “If anyone says that audition is absolutely unlawful, he has declared forbidden in the law that about which no statute has come down, since no statute forbidding audition and dancing has come down in the Book of Allah, or in the usage of Allah’s Apostle, or in the words of the Companions (of the Prophet). And he, who declares to be forbidden in the Law anything which is not in it, has invented something against Allah, and he who invents anything against Allah is an infidel by general agreement.”19

Yet we, in this work, are primarily concerned with the purely secular approach, although it may unavoidably include that which is divine. Not only is the case for secular music unassailable, but the teaching, acquisition, and practice of it can be proved to be rational since it affords healthy exercise to the body, mind and emotions. It has been said that “men die for want of cheerfulness as plants die for want of light.” And, what can supply that want better than music? Therein is refreshment for the body, cheer for the mind, and relief for the emotions, or, more grandiloquently, the repairing of lost energies, the soothing of chafed sensibilities, and the kindling of finer feelings and aspirations.

Everybody knows, especially in Islam, the wondrous power of the “beautiful voice,”20 particularly in the reading (qir’ah) of the Qur’an and the chanting of the “call to prayer” (adhan). They give back musical impressions which not only delight the ear but thrill the soul, because that chanting harmonizes with the divine message.21 And why should not secular music per se do likewise, since there seems to be a natural alliance between radiant music and moral beauty? Surely man’s faculties and susceptibilities for the acquisition and enjoyment of music were not bestowed but that they should be a glory to the Giver and a joy to the possessor, for they are as essential to the social and spiritual welfare of man as the influence of the sun and rain is to be the fruitfulness of the mother earth.

“Get way from evil and sing”

(Ab‘id al-sharr wa ghanni).

Syrian Proverb

B. The Music Lovers

“I like the man who cultivates poetry for self-instruction, not for lucre; and the man who practises music for pleasure, not for gain.”

Ibn Muqlah (d. 238/940)

Since Islam was born among the Arabs and was cradled in the Hijaz, one must give prior consideration to these two important facets. In the “Days of Ignorance” (al-jahiliyyah) music was practiced in the whole of Arabia by the matrons of the towns and tribes as well as by professional singing-girls (qainat). These not only cheered many a home and encampment, but strengthened the resolve of those in the battle throng, as we read in the Hamasah. Their singing (ghina’) was based on a simple type of song called the nasb which was but an improved form of camel-driver’s chant (huda’). They accompanied themselves on an instrument of strings (muwattar), although more generally it was a harp-like instrument (mi‘zafa), a percussion wand (qadib), or a tambourinte (mizhar).22

In default of the latter they could adapt the perforated skin sieve (ghirbal) for that purpose: this received the approval of the Prophet later.23 When Islam came upon the world of intellectual darkness, the first male musician to make history was Tuwais (d. c. 88/705). He accompanied himself on a square tambourine (daff), and when performing would perambulate along the lines of his audience.24

The wide conquests of the Arab armies, notably in Persia and Syria, had sent crowds of captives into the towns of the Hijaz. Among these were singers and players whose alien types of music captivated the people of Mecca and Medina. The result was that Arab musicians found themselves compelled to master the new kinds of singing and playing. That was only one of the many cultural influences which affected Arabian modes of life, for “when the revelations of the Prophet flashed on the world, a message was delivered which could not be confined to the Hijaz, the cradle of Islam. As a result, the banner of the Prophet was planted eastward at the extremities of Transoxiana, southward by the banks of the Indus, northward to the shores of the Black Sea, and westward on the slopes of the Pyrenees.”25

As we march through the pages of the history of music we shall see how manifold artistic ingredients contributed to Islamic civilization. Al-Hirah, the capital of the Arab Lakhmids, had already imbibed much of Persian culture including the lute (‘ud).26 The Meccans had used a rustic type of pandore (mi‘zaf) which had a parchment “face” (wajh), but as the Persian lute (barbat) had a “face” of wood, the Meccan lute was called the ‘ud (wood). The holy cities of the Hijaz resounded with strains of music and song,27 and the artistic career of the songstress ‘Azzat al-Maila’ (d. c. 88/705) in the Hijaz attested to that fact.

At her auditions the greatest musicians, poets, litterati, and the most distinguished citizens, including ‘Abd Allah ibn Ja‘far, a cousin-germain of the Prophet, took part. Even Hassan ibn Thabit, the first poetic extoller of Islam sang her praises.28 Among the great musicians of the glorious days of the Orthodox Caliphs (al-rashidun) were Sa’ib Khathir (d. c. 83/683), Hunain al-Hiri (d. c. 100/718), and Ahmad al-Nasibi, a kinsman of the poet A‘sha Hamdam (d. 82/701).29

The Umayyad caliphs removed their capital from Medina to Damascus, where their Courts, with the exception of that of ‘Umar II (d. 101/720), were thronged with singers and players. Of al-Walid (d. 126/744) it was said that “the cultivation of music spread not only among the leisured class, but with the people also.”30 Those were the flourishing days of the great virtuosi whose names adorn the pages of Islamic history, notably ibn Muhriz (d. c. 97/715), ibn Suraij (d. c. 108/726), al-Gharid (d. c. 106/724), and Ma‘bad (d. c. 127/743), usually dubbed as “the four great singers.”31 Such was Islam, the territories of which knew no racial boundaries, which those four musicians were foreigners by blood, the first being of Persian origin, the second of Turkish descent, the third and fourth claiming respectively Berber and Negro extraction.32

Because of such a large-hearted tolerance of racial differences it is quite explicable why the hybrid and exotic in music became an allurement and fascination. Through Islam the technical nomenclature in music was almost wholly Arabic, and that was still the case when the first Persian treatises on music appeared in the eighth/14th century.33 Still, the Arabs borrowed the Persian chang (harp) which they confusedly called the sanj and jank. They also adopted the Persian tuning (taswiyyah) of the lute, and the frets (dasatin) on the neck of the instrument.34

When the first of the ‘Abbasid Caliphs, al-Mansur (d. 158/755), built that wondrous city of Baghdad, it soon became not only the capital of the vast dominions of the Caliphate, but the cultural centre of Islam. The early ‘Abbasid period has well been styled “the Augustan Age of Arabian literature,”35 although an even greater encomium could be justly used in respect of music during that era, if we take the golden pages of the “Great Book of Songs” (Kitab al-Ahani al-Kabir) as our authority. The first outstanding ‘Abbasid minstrel was Hakam al-Wadi (d. c. 180/796), a singer and performer who carried all before him.36

Almost as exquisite were the vocal accomplishments of ibn Jami‘ (d. c. 189/804).37 He had been taught by the doyen of the Court minstrels, Yahya al-Makki (d. c. 215/830), the fountain head of the old music of the Hijaz. Indeed his “book about the Songs (Kitab fi al-Aghani) was a repository of the classical art;38 his son Ahmad (d. 250/864) issued a revised edition of 3,000 songs39 Greater still was Ibrahim al-Mausili (d. 189/804) who outshone all others by his versatility. Nine hundred compositions stood to his credit, whilst his training school for singing girls became renowned.40

Fulaih ibn Abi al-‘Aura’ was another favoured singer, being the only one allowed to appear - professionally - without the customary curtain (sitar) which screened the musicians from the Caliph. Fulaih, with Ibrahim al-Mausili and ibn Jami‘, compiled a collection for Harun al-Rashid known as “The Hundred Chosen Songs” (al-Mi’at al-Saut al-Mukhtarah).41 Prince Ibrahim ibn al-Mahdi (d. 224/839)42 and his step-sister Princess ‘Ulayyah (d. 210/825)43 had both been carefully trained in music at the instance of Caliph Harun, at whose Court music received so munificent a patronage that it set the whole world in wonderment.

Prince Ibrahim possessed a voice with a compass of three octaves, and was considered the “most proficient in mankind” in that art.44 By that time the impingement of Persian and Khurasanian novelties in music became quite pronounced. Singing girls from Khurasan were “the rage.” They performed on a long necked pandore (tanbur) which gave an alien scale, whilst the Persian lute produced a scale that was dissonant to the Arabian system, as we shall see in Section C. Prince Ibrahim and his henchmen favoured these exotic ideas, and even applauded the open violation of the recognized patterns in both the melodic and rhythmic modes.

This defiance of the old classical procedure divided the Court minstrels into two camps, viz. the “Romanticists” led by Prince Ibrahim, and the “Classicists” headed by the chief Court minstrel Ishaq al-Mausili (d. 235/850), the most famous of the musicians of the Muslim world.45 Against those neoteric fancies, Ishaq took a firm stand, and eventually was able to re-establish the old Arabian scale and modes, which seem to have been set down in his “Book of Notes and Rhythm” and his “Great Book of Songs.”46

After the mid-third/ninth century, the Baghdad Caliphate began its political decline, although music still prospered at its Courts. Al-Mutawakkil (d. 247/861) gave constant encouragement to that art. His son, Abu ‘Isa ‘Abd Allah, was an accomplished musician and a composer of some 300 songs.47 Al-Muntasir (d. 248/862) was both a poet and a musician; the words of his songs have been preserved in al-Isfahani who devotes a chapter to him.48 Another such devotee was al-Mu‘tazz (d. 255/869), whose songs have also been saved for us.49 His son, ‘Abd Allah, was a highly gifted musician who penned a “Comprehensive Book on Singing” (Kitab al-Jami‘ fi al-Ghina’), the first of its kind, although Prince Ibrahim too, had written a “Book on Singing.”50

Yet if the Court minstrels did not produce virtuosi of the same class of old, that defect was overcome by their pens, notably by ibn Tahir al-Khuza’i (d. 300/913) who wrote a “Book about the Modes and the Reasons for the Songs” (Kitab fi al-Nagham wa ‘Ilal al-Aghani),51 Qurais al-Jarrahi (d. 326/936) in his “Art of Singing and Stories of the Sinbers” (Sina‘at al- Ghina’ wa Akhbar al-Mughanniyyin), Jahzat al-Barmaki (d. c. 328/938) who published a “Book of Pandorists” (Kitaqb al-Tanburiyyin), and the great al-Isfahani who produced “The Propriety of Listening to Music” (Adab al-Sama‘).52

Turning to the west, we see the same high cultural uplift in Muslim Spain as in the home of the Eastern Caliphate. After the Arabs and Berbers had conquered (91/710) the Iberian Peninsula, a vast portion of the land was held by them until the year 479/1086 and during that period, especially under the Umayyad rulers, music and all the arts were cultivated ardently. Singing girls, called jariyyat, were in great demand, and schools for their training had been established.53 Yet those who came from the East were especially favoured, such as the famed lutanist ‘Afza’ at the Court of ‘Abd al-Rahman I (d. 172/788),54 while al-Hakam I (d. 206/822) was especially proud of ‘Uklun and Zarqun.55

His chief male minstrels were ‘Abbas ibn Nasa’i and Mansur al-Yahudi.56 Concerts were the “order of the day.”57 At the palace of ‘Abd al-Rahman (d. 238/852), there arrived in the year 206/821 the world famous Ziryab, who was treated with unheard-of esteem, for he had been taught by Ibrahim and Ishaq al-Mausili in Baghdad. He was credited with knowing 10,000 (1,000?) songs by heart, and for being the equal of Ptolemy in his knowledge of music. It was he who added a fifth string to the lute, linking it - in the cosmic system - with the soul. The musical system in al-Andalus was that of the Arabian east, the scale being the Pythagorean. Zirab’s music school - which had some reputation - was carried on after his death by his descendants, and was still flourishing in the days of the “Party Kings,” while traces of it could be found in North Africa in the eighth/14th century.58

Under ‘Abd al-Rahman III (d. 350/961) we have an anomalous situation of the Court outwardly condemning music - so as to placate the Maliki legists who frowned on music - but inwardly patronizing it, since he encouraged his children not only to dabble in the art, but to rise virtuosity. One of them excelled on the pandore (tanbur) and guitar (kaitarah),59 whilst another, Abu al-‘Asbagh, said that so long as Allah permitted birds to sing he would do likewise.60 In the reign of al-Hakam II (d. 366/976) concerts became special events,61 and under al-Mahdi (d. 400/1009 orchestras of a hundred lutes (idan) and as many reed pipes (zumar) could be heard in the palace salons.62 Those were the brilliant days of ibn ‘Abdi Rabbihi (d. 328/940) who, in his al-‘Iqd al-Farid, gave Muslim Spain some idea of the greatness of the music of the Eastern Caliphate. He was a veritable treasure-chest of Andalusian poetry and song.63

We know little of Persian music in those early days save what may be gleaned from the Muruj al-Dhahab of al-Mas‘udi (d. c. 345/956), who quoted ibn Khurdadhbih (d. c. 300/912).64 As we have seen, both Persia and Arabia borrowed from each other in matters musical, and we know that Persian as well as Arabian music was being taught at Rayy in the time of Ibrahim al-Mausili.65 Certainly there were several brilliant writers in music in Baghdad who were of Persian origin, notably al-Sarakhsi (d. 286/899)66 ‘Ubaid Allah ibn ‘Abd Allah ibn Tahir (d. 300/913),67 and Zakariya al-Razi (d. 313/925).68 A famous singer of the Tahirid period was Ratibah of Nishapur,69 and so also was the renowned Rudagi - patronized by the Samanid Nasr II (d. c. 331/942) - a lutanist and harpist, as well as a singer and poet.70

Most of the contemporary poets, such as al-Mi‘mari of Jurjan and al-Daqiqi of Tus, sang in rapturous praise of music.71 Persian music percolated everywhere, Turkomanian influence also made itself felt. The Caliph’s praetorian guards at Baghdad and elsewhere were made up of men of Turkoman race, and they dominated in most things. In such circumstances it can be well understood how Turkomanian music, especially on the instrumental side, was highly appreciated. A lute-like instrument called the rud was favoured by them, and an arch-lute the shahrud, invented by Khulais ibn al-Ahwas of Samaraqand about 306/918, had already spread to Iraq, Syria, and Egypt.72

In Egypt under the Tulunid and Ikhshidid rulers of the third/ninth and the fourth/tenth centuries, Turkoman influence spread by leaps and bounds, and music was enjoyed by all. Ibn Khallikan praises the excellent voice of ibn Tulun when chanting the Qur’an, while his son Khumarawaih actually adorned his palace walls with pictures of his singing girls.73 The art rose to greater heights under the next rulers. Al-Mas‘udi delineated a delightful scene at a palace by the Nile in 330/940 in which the “sounds of music and singing filled the air.”74 Kafur (d. 357/968) was devoted to music and was liberal-handed to its professors.

What was this music of Islam, enthralling sounds of which charmed all ears from Bukhara in the east to Cordova in the west? Obviously, there were linguistic differences and indigenous musical preferences in so vast a region. Yet Islam, because of its universal outlook, had leavened some of those diversities. Basically, the scale of all was the Pythagorean, as we shall learn presently.75 Yet Arabic technical terminology seems to have had dominion everywhere, as one sees in the term maqam. Unmistakably, Baghdad was still the artistic and literary centre, for even Abu Bakr al-Kativ, who served the Samanid Isma‘il ibn Ahmad (d. 295/907), saw in Iraq “an ocean of learning and a mine of culture.”76

If one scans the nisbahs of the great men of literature, science, art, and music who sought Baghdad to win fame and fortune, it becomes clear what a magnet the “City of Peace” had become to the world of Islam.77 To the Arabic-speaking peoples, vocal music was the peerless art. Part of that was due to the beauty of the language, plus the allurement of its variegated metres. The outstanding vocal piece was the ode (qasidah). Within its folds a singer could decorate the melody of each verse with endless embellishments (tahasin). Less classical, but far more popular was the ballad (qit‘ah). There were also folk songs of the mawal type, and we know that even the Caliphs enjoyed the simple songs of the people.78

The accompanying instruments were generally the lute, pandore, flute (qassabah), or reed pipe (zamr), which played the simple melody, whilst the rhythmic accompaniment was furnished by a tambourine or drum. Purely instrumental items were also featured, especially as interludes between vocal items. When these were combined the performance was termed a naubah.79 Although we read occasionally of a hundred or so performers at Court functions, such events were for special display. The ideal in ‘Abbasid days when listening to music was what Europe would term “Chamber music.” Two other instruments, which had independent usage were the psaltery (qanun) and the rebec (rabab). The former was a special solo instrument, whilst the latter was often used to accompany the chanted verse of poets, which had been its function in pagan days.

Since Arabic was still the language of the “classes” in Persia, one imagines in which much has passed from the immaculate and indefectible in Arabic poetry and song was heard in Iranian lands as late as the fourth/tenth century, notably under the Saffarids and Samanids. The Persians, less intrigued by the lengthy Arabic ode (qasidah), produced a pure love song (ghazal) and the quatrain (ruba‘i), one class of the latter, the ruba‘iyy taranah, showing its musical adaptation. The melodic modes in Persia were far more numerous in different tonal structures than those of the Arabs and they retained their older fanciful names such as ‘ushshaq, Isfahan, salmaki, etc. although most of them had scalar affinities with the Arabian finger modes (asabi‘). Their most favoured instruments were the harp (chang), pandore (tanbur), lute (barbat), double chested lute (rabab), spiked voil (kamanchah), flute (nay), and tambourine (da’irah).

The Baghdad Caliphate had gone into the protective custody of the Persian Buwaihids (320 - 404/932 - 1015), at whose palaces - as well as at those of the Caliphs - music was subventioned with liberality. In fact, the regime of ’Izz al-Daulah was condemned because of its infatuation for music.80 ‘Adud al-Daulah was more discreetly interested in the art.81 However, the power of the Baghdad Caliphate - both politically and culturally - was gradually slipping away, and the centre of Islamic culture passed meanwhile to the Fatimids of Egypt. Here Amir Tamim, the son of al-Mu‘izz (d. 365/975), was absolutely appassioned of music,82 and no less could be said of al-Zahir (d. 427/1036), who spent fabulous gold on minstrels.83

The Persian traveller Nasir-i Khusrau wrote about the splendour of the Fatimid military bands a little later.84 One of its famous men, al-Sadafi, better known as ibn Yunus (d. 399/1009), wrote a book the title of which sparkles with delight. It was called the “Book of the Unanimities and Felicities in the Praises of the Lute” (Kitab al-‘Uqud w-al-Su‘ud fi Ausaf al-‘Ud).85 Another, great historian, al-Musabbihi (d. 420/1029), compiled a book of “Selected Songs and Their Significance” (Mukhtar al-Aghani wa Ma‘aniha).86 We still discern the Turkomanian pressure on Egypt’s music, due to the crowd of men from the Qirghiz steppes in its army, and that was only one facet of the “new phase of culture” which arose in Egypt in those days.87

Although Muslim Spain had “advanced with incredible swiftness to a height of culture that was the envy of Europe,” the break-up of the central government and the rise of the “Party Kings” halted the progress of the arts for a time. Yet here and there were some hallowed spots of culture. Indeed, a few of these “Party Kings” (muluk al-tawa’if) ‘made their Courts the homes of poets and minstrels,” as al-Maqqari testifies. The last of the ‘Abbasid kings of Seville, al-Mu‘tamid (d. 484/1091), was not only a distinguished poet, but a singer and a lutanist, as was his son ‘Ubaid Allah al-Rashid.88 The song-poems of ibn Hamdis (d. 527/1132) were the delight of the Sevillians. When the Almoravid Berber hordes from the Maghrib suppressed the “Party Kings,” music came to be looked upon as one of the “wiles of Satan,” although the older Muslim inhabitants took little heed of such rebukes.

Their successors, the Almohades, under the fiat of ibn Tumart (d. 524/1130), made decrees against music more stringent, even to the destruction of instruments. Yet there were many who opposed these fanatical legists, including ibn Quzman (d. 555/1160), the song-writer par excellence, who chided with puritans saying, “The faqih cries ‘Repent’; but how can one be contrite with the air so fragrant, the birds warbling, the flowers perfuming, and music (ghina) from a clever reed-piper (zamir) and a heavenly voice?” Yet, in spite of fulminations, music and songs were heard on every side.

The newly fashioned zajal and muwashshah were so easy to set to melodies that the same tune would be adapted to different words, as ibn Quzman tells us, and songs spread like the wind in the matter of months as far afield as Baghdad, as ibn Sa‘id al-Maqhribi (d. 685/1286) avers.89 Among the best known Andalusian composers were Abu al-Hussain al-Hamrah al-Qarnati and Ishaq ibn Sim‘an al-Qartabi. The highest in the land were enchanted by the art. Ibn Bajjah (d. 533/1138), according to ibn Khaqan, “spent his life singing and playing,” whilst a celebrated physician Yahya ibn ‘Abd Allah al-Bahdabah, wrote zajals for the accompaniment of wind instruments.90

Returning to the hub of Islam, we find that the Saljuq Turks had irrupted into the land, Baghdad having been entered in 447/1055. Their rulers took charge of the Caliphs, and they and their later atabegs controlled the world of Islam from the borders of Afghanistan to the frontiers of Greece. All of them were keen lovers of music, and the favoured minstrel of Sanjar (d. 552/1157) was Kamal al-Zaman, whose cognomen indicates his renown.91 Further east the Ghaznawids and Ghurids were patronizing minstrelsy at their courts. Mahmud of Ghaznah (d. 421/1030) had the poet Farrukhi as his panegyrist, who was also a “skilful performer on the harp” (chang).92

Among the Ghurids of Afghanistan and Hindustan, especially at the Court of Ghiyath al-Din ibn Sam (d. 599/1200), music was encouraged bountifully.93 Greater still was the favour shown to the art by ‘Ala al-Din Muhammad (d. 617/1220), the Shah of Khwarizm, who gave Fakhr al-Din al-Razi protection.94 In Baghdad the chief minstrel of the Caliph al-Musta‘sim (d. 656/1258) was Safi al-Din ‘Abd al-Mu’min (d. 693/1294). His greater fame is an author notably for his “Book on Prosody” (Fi ‘Ulum al-‘Arud w-al-Qawafi w-al-Badi‘), but greater still for his two books on the science of music which brought him world renown.95 In the year 656/1258, the Mughul conqueror Hulagu, invaded the famous city of Baghdad, the centre of the world of Islam, and captured it. Ibn Khaldun avers that 600,000 inhabitants were slaughtered, including the Caliph and his family, and although Safi al-Din was spared because of his eminence as a musician, scholars and litterateurs were massacred as cruelly as libraries, colleges, and palaces were destroyed.

These Mughul barbarians, who had become masters from the borders of Egypt to India, were converted to Islam, and, softened by its culture, they made music one of the delights of their Courts, and the murdered Caliph’s minstrel, Safi al-Din, passed into the service of the Mughul vizier Shams al-Din al-Juwaini. Ibn Taghribirdi tells us that Abu Sa‘id (d. 736/1335) “cultivated music, played well on the lute, and composed songs,” and ibn Battutah (d. 778/1377) describes the royal galley at Baghdad, flanked by boats filled with musicians and singers.96 By this time Persian, not Arabic, had become the language of art and science in the Middle East, and from Persian works we are able to see what types of instruments were in vogue.

In addition to the older lute and pandore was a new arch-lute (mughni) and a rectangular psaltery (nuzha), together with a Turkoman viol (ghishak), whilst the pandore was more particularly described as a two-stringed (dutar) or a three stringed (sitar) instrument.97 It was Egypt alone that offered a stubborn resistance to the Mughuls, and its Mamluk Sultans, like their predecessors, the Ayyubids, favoured music and song. Here the muwashshah, had been popularized by ibn Sana’ al-Mulk (d. 608/1211) in his Dar al-Tiraz, and al-Saruji (d. 693/1294) bettered the instruction as a song-writer, while ibn Mukarram (d. 711/1311) edited a collection of older songs which had wide acceptance.98

Al-Nuwairi (d. 732/1332) also devoted much attention to the subject in his Nihayat al-Arab.99 It was the Sultan Qala’un (d. 689/1290) who built the hospital (maristan) at Cairo, where “music soothed the wakeful hours to the sufferers.”100 An outstanding feature of the Bahri and Burji Mamluk Sultans was their military bands,101 which opened the eyes of the Crusaders to the value, both tactically and musically, of martial music.102

Sind had been conquered by Muslim armies as far back as the year 92/711, but it was with Ghurids of Afghanistan that modern Pakistan had is real foundation 571/1175 at the hands of Muhammad Ghuri (d. 602/1206). Here, the powerful fuqaha’ were able to enforce views in condemnation of music upon Iltutmish, the Sultan of Delhi (d.633/1235), who, later, having been impressed by the sama‘ of the Chishti darwish fraternity, soon abolished that ban against the art, when the plaintive chanting of its qawwals became a distinctive feature throughout the land, as we know from the Siyar al-Auliya’. Secular music was openly encouraged by Firuz Shah I (d. 634/1236), and the Tabaqat-i Nasiri says that his bounty to musicians led him to be called “a second Hatim.”

Under Balban (d. 686/1287) one evening per week was devoted to audition of music. The succeeding Khalji Sultans, the first of whom was Firuz Shah II (d. 696/1295), were all music-lovers. At the Court of the latter were Hamid Rajah, Nasir Khan, and Muhammad Shah Hutki, all noted musicians, although the greatest of them all was Amir Khusrau (d. 725/1325), who was “no less notable as a musician than a poet.” He had served at the Courts of the two preceding Sultans. In his Qiran al-Sa‘dain, he has described the Court music of his time. In the I‘jaz Khusrawi, he tells of the rivalry between the Khurasan and Hindustan minstrels at Court. It is said that a fusion between Persian and Indian music was brought about by him, and in the book called Rag Darpan many novelties in music are attributed to him.

Music was still to the fore with the Sayyid dynasty, and Mubarak Shah II (d. 837/1433) was deeply attached to the art. On the elevation of the Lodhi Sultans to the throne in 855/1451 there was a change of attitude towards music. Yet Sikandar II (d. 923/1517) employed four exceptional performers on the harp (chang), psaltery (qanun), pandore (tanbur) and gourd-lute (bin), only the last named instrument being of indigenous origin. In the extreme north the kings of Kashmir were ruling a famed “land of song” since 735/1334. Among the most cultured of them was Zain al-‘Abidin (d. 872/1467), during whose reign music schools were established by Persian and Turanian teachers, which won some celebrity.

In the Deccan, one of the kings of Gulbargah named Taj al-Din Firuz Shah (d. 825/1422) had 700 damsels who were skilled musicians and dancers. His brother, however, was never absent from the darwish ceremonials, where the religious chant gave him contentment of a different kind. Both Ahmad Shah I (d. 839/1435) and Ahmad Shah II (d. 862/1457) were captivated by their Court minstrelsy, and the wife of the latter, says Firishtah, was without equal in her musical accomplishments. The singers and dancers of Muhammad Shah II (d. 887/1482) came from Georgia, Circassia, and Albyssinia. So indulgent was his successor Mahmud Shah II (d. 924/1518) in his passion for music that minstrels were attracted to his Court not only from Delhi and Lahore, but also from distant Persia and Khurasan. Truly, Muslim India was in the forefront in music among her sister nations.103

Persia was reawakened culturally under the beneficent Muzaffarids. The renowned Shah Shuja‘ of Shiraz (d. 786/1384) patronized the minstrel Yusuf Shah and the music theorist al-Jurjani (d. 816/1413). The art was particularly conserved by the Jalairid Sultans of Iraq. Hussain (d. 784/1382) actually neglected his realm through his abiding love for music, whilst the greatest living musicians, Ridwan Shah and ‘Abd al-Qadir ibn Ghaibi (d. 840/1435), were the chief Court minstrels of Sultan Ahmad (d. 813/1410).104 When Timur (d. 807/1405) had accomplished his world-wide conquests, most of the above kingdoms passed into the night, and Samarqand became the artistic as well as the political centre of the Timurid Empire.

During the reign of Shah Rukh, (d. 850/1447) the Court minstrelsy rose to perfection, and the fetes have been eloquently described by ‘Abd al-Razzaq.105 Yusuf-i Andakani was his favoured minstrel for he “had no equal in the seven climes.”106 Miran Shah (d. 810/1408), the brother of Shah Rukh, was also infatuated with music as discoursed by al-Khatib al-Mausili and Ardashir-i Changi. Baisunghur (d. 836/1433), the son of Shah Rukh, was devoted to Amir Shahi (d. 857/1453), possessed of three-fold talents as minstrel, poet, and painter. Under the guidance of the vizier Mir ‘Ali Shir (d. 907/1501) the rule of the last of the great Timurid rulers Hussain Mirza Baiqara (d. 911/1506) became the byword of the cultured world of Islam, and the names of his minstrels - Qui-i Muhammad, Shaikhi Nayi and Hussain ‘Udi - became a part of history.107

In Muslim Spain, in spite of the increasing re-conquests by the Spaniards in the seventh/13th century, the Moors still held that part of the land known as Granada. Here they were hemmed in from all sides, and in 897/1492, they were forced to capitulate. Then followed the most despicable persecutions and ruthless destruction of Arabic literature which had been treasured for centuries. Moorish music and instruments were declared anathema, although that did not prevent the Moors from finding solace from their woes in their music. All that the Spanish priesthood could do was to issue edicts forbidding their congregations to listen to those mouriscas and aravias of the Moors.108 In the mid-tenth/16th century, they were not only denied their national costume, language, and customs, but forbidden the zumrah and lailah, i.e. the musical gatherings.109

The whole of the Maghrib - from Morocco to Tunis - had been deeply influenced by the culture of Andalus, and both the Marinid rulers of Morocco and the Hafsid rulers of Tunis had encouraged music at their Courts. Yet more bountiful was the revivification of the art due to the exodus of the Muslim exiles from Spain. The first of these arrived at Tlemcen after the fall of Cordova in 633/1236, followed by another to Tunis at the capture of Seville in 646/1248. Then came refugees to Tetuan after the submission of Granada in 897/1492, which was succeeded by an emigration to Fez from Valencia in 943/1526, and finally the wholesale expulsion of 1018/1609.

These newcomers brought a cultural benefit to the Maghrib, and the Moriscos became the artistic and literary aristocracy of the land. In music, one can actually trace the regional variations in classical Granati or Andalusi art to those immigrants. The Cordovan interpretation belongs to Algiers and Tlemcen, the Sevillan style is that of Tunis, while the Granadan and Valencian modes are to be fund in Fez and Tetuan.110

The Ottoman Turks now became a power in the world of Islam to be reckoned with. Having settled originally in Anatolia, they soon extended their power in every direction, and by the year 857/1453 Constantinople and the whole of the Byzantine Empire were in their hands. After defeating the Shah of Persia, they took Kurdistan and Mesopotamia into their hegemony, finally to overrun Syria, Egypt, and Arabia after crushing the Bahri Mamluks in 922/1517. From that date Turkish music began to assert itself gradually in Arabic-speaking lands and beyond, even as far as Tunis and Algiers where Turkish beys and deys were masters.

From remote times to ozan or bard of the Turkish tribes, with chogur or qopuz in hand - they were lute-like instruments - entertained the people with the turku or folk-song. That had not changed, but a new era had dawned since Constantinople had become - by edict only - the pivot of Islam, and it was no wonder that artists, musicians, poets, and literary men should have sought fame and fortune in the new capital, as well as in the pashaliks of Cairo, Damascus, Mosul and Baghdad. Instrumental music had ever delighted the Turks, and the overture (pishrau) and the decorative “divisions” (taqasim), which had been constituent parts of the old Perso-Arabian naubah, were in great demand.

The poets sang eloquently of the joy of instrumental music in the ninth/15th century, notably Nizami of Quniayh and Ahmad Pasha, and Sultan Murad II (d. 855/1451) enticed the finest minstrels to his Court. Nor should we allow the influence of the maulawiyyah or Jalaliyyah dervish communities, founded by Jalal al-Din Rumi (d. 672/1273), to escape our notice, since they hymns (ilahis) had a great spiritual influence. In the next century, the poets Fighani, Fusuli, and Rewani still continued to rhapsodize on music’s spell. The instruments praised were mostly of Arabian or Persian origin, although the Turkish qopuz had its share of appreciation.111 New instruments came on view.

Quduz Farhadi invented the qaraduzan, a lute of three strings, and a son of Hamdi Chelebi (d. 915/1509) introduced two new pandores called the yonqar and yaltmah.112 During the 11th/17th century music took a prominent part in the general cultural improvement, as we know from a manuscript of Cairo by Mulla Muhammad ibn As‘ad, of the time of Sultan Ahmad (d. 1026/1617), which contains the lives of the famous Turkish musicians.113 Ewliya Chelebi was famed in those days. His teacher was ‘Umar Gulshani, who was taught by Ibrahim Gulshani of Cairo (d. 940/1533). The description of the musical life of Constantinople is contained in the “Travels of Ewliya Efendi” (Siyahat Nameh); much of it, based as it is on the Ausaf-i Qustantiniyyah (Praises of Constantinople) composed in the year 1048/1638, gives precise details of musicians and instruments, guilds and makers, in the great emporium of the Near East.114

In that century there arose the poet-minstrels (saz sha‘yrleri) who were honoured not only in military but also in religious circles. One direct influence from outside came after the capture of Baghdad in 1048/1638 by Murad IV, who took back with him to Constantinople the Court minstrel of the Persian Shah ‘Abbas I, named Shah Quli, whose performances on the shashtar had pleased him.115 The late Ra‘uf Yekta thought that the advent of Shah Quli “opened a new era in the history of Turkish music.”116

In the Muslim east the ‘Adil Shahs of Bijapur, the first of whom was Yusuf ‘Adil Shah (d. 916/1511), were revealing themselves as munificent patrons of musicians. Yusuf ‘Adil Shah had a skill in music almost equal to that of a professional and even essayed composition. Isma‘il (d. 941/1534) rather favoured Turanian and Persian music at his Court. Per contra, Ibrahim I (d. 965/1557) preferred the arts of the Deccan. Ibrahim II (d. 1035/1626) is claimed to have written a work on music called Nauras with an introduction penned by Zuhuri, the Persian poet (d. 1027/1618).

The Qutbi Kings of Golkunda were no less enthralled by minstrelsy. Sultan Quli (d. 940/1543) brought Persian customs to his Court - which lasted 40 years - and his military naubah sounded at the five hours of prayer. In those days the Gwlior School of Music was the subject of conversation. Its renown was due chiefly to Rajah Man Singh (d. 932/1517), and the most famous of its students was Tan Sin, who had been taught by Muhammad Ghauth. Another of the same circle was Bakhshu, whose dhurpads became the repertory of the best minstrels. When Babur (d. 936/1530) became the first of the Mughul Emperors of Hindustan (India), most of the preceding dynasties were absorbed. He had been reared in Courts where music prevailed.117

From the statements in the Babur Nameh it would seem that the Emperor was even a composer, and it is believed that his compositions once existed.118 His son Humayun (d. 963/1556) also encouraged music, and sincerely believed that the Sufi dance was the complete expression of the hikmat-i ilahi. At Court, musicians had their special days for audition, and some of them - ‘Abd Allah Qanuni, Muhammad Surna’i, and the vocalists of Hafiz Dost Muhammad Khwafi and Ustad Yusuf Maudud - are registered in the Akbar Nameh. The Court of the renowned Akbar (d. 1014/1605), as described in the A’in-i Akbari of Abu al-Fadl, shows how important music was both to the policy and the taste of the Emperor.

The musicians were formed into seven groups, 36 of whom are named in Abu al-Fadl’s work. He was catholic in his choice for not only were minstrels selected from famed Kashmir and Gwalior, but the best of them came from Herat and Khurasan, and they were singers, chanters, and instrumentalists. More than half of these had Muslim names. The Emperor is said to have himself composed 200 items of music. Among the art treasures of his day there is one depicting the arrival of Tan Sin at his Court. Abu al-Fadl tells us of the widely spread net that was cast to capture the best of vocal music - the dhurpad of Gwalior, the chind of the Deccan, the qual and taranah of Delhi, the kajri or zikri of Gujrat, the bangula of Bengal, and the chutkalah of Jaunpur.

Jahangir (d. 1037/1627) followed his father in his love of music, has favoured minstrel being Shauqi, who sang Hindi and Persian songs in way that “cleared the rust from human hearts.” There is a portrait of him in Fox Strangway’s Music of Hindustan.119 Many other musicians of Jahangir’s Court are mentioned in the Tuzuk-i Jahangiri and the Iqbal Nameh. In the first named work is described the military band of this Emperor. Shah Jahan (d. 1068/1658) made the Court music one of the glories of his reign. It was he who collected the dhurpads of the Gwalior composer Bakhashu, which numbered one thousand items. On the wedding of his son, Aurangzib (d. 1119/1707), he expended a small fortune on music alone.

Alas, when Aurangzib ascended the throne he dispensed with his Court minstrelsy, to the dismay of the people at large. Fortunately, Bahadur Shah (d. 1124/1713) reinstated the musicians and raised them to mansab ranks. By this time, owing to internecine strife, the great Mughul Empire began its political and cultural decline.

Of the state of music in Persia during the 11th/17th century, we know but little save what the pictorial art reveals, although at the brilliant Court of ‘Abbas I (d. 1038/1629) the older instrumental art still held its own.120 Four European travellers - Raphael du Mans, Chardin, Poullet, and later Kaempfer - supply many important details. A picture of the Court minstrels of Safi I (d. 1052/1642) - actually portraits - has been preserved.121 Persia seems to have been less troubled by the objections of the legists to al-sama‘ than was the case elsewhere. Perhaps they still remembered Hafiz who once said, “When the harp is sounding who cares about the objector?”

Yet there were some Persians, for example, Muhammad ibn Jalal Ridwi (d. 1028/1619) and ‘Abd al-Jalil ibn ‘Abd al-Rahman (d. 1061/1651), who replied at length to the legists.122 Incidentally, Chardin shows that the Indian vina was used in Persia as the kingira,123 and even Mersanne (1046/1636) delineated it in Europe.124 Strangely enough, it is mentioned by the Arabic writer al-Jahiz (d. 255/869), who writes it - probably a scribal error - as kinkila, and it is also specified by al-Jurjani (d. 816/1413).125 By the 12th/18th century, when Nadir Shah (d. 1160/1747) brought a brief resurgence to Persia’s greatness, many had disappeared, although the dulcimer (santir) found a place.

Iraq and Mesopotomia, now in the hand of the Turks, favoured only the Turanian art. Baghdad was the centre of this imported culture, and it spread to Hillah and Basrah. To the north, Kurdish tastes prevailed. The most artistic centres were those where the Mamluk pashas had control, and where Georgians and other Caucasians were given preferment, which meant that quite a new Oriental type of music gained ground.126 Karsten Niebuhr, after visiting Baghdad in that century, gave a fair description of its music. He noted the use of what he called a base continue by accompanying instruments, although he seems to have meant a point d’orgue or pedal point.127 He mentions and delineates three types of pandore, and the rectangular and spiked viols.

Syria was little better off, as we know from the books of Alexander and Patrick Russell written the 12th/18th century.128 They aver that the Allepans were “fond of music,” and in their performances the instruments generally were well in tune, and...kept excellent time.

Notes

1. The Harmonics of Aristoxenus edited with translation...By Henry S. Macran, Clarendon Press, Oxford,1901 .

2. The Dieomonophists, Enlish translation by J. E. King, Heinermann, London, 1 937, 6, Book 14.

3. Kitab ikhwan al-Safa, ed. Ahmad ibn ‘Abd Allah, Bombay,1306 - 07/1888 - 89, 1, p. 84.

4. Ibid., 1, pp. 85 - 87.

5. Al-Nuwairi, Nihayat al-Arab, Cairo,1925 , v. pp. 113 et seq. Muhammad ibn Isma‘il, Safinat al-Mulk, Cairo,1892 , p. 464.

6. J. Robson, Tracts on Listening to Music, London,1938 .

7. W. Ahlwardt, Verzeichnis der arabischen Handschriften der...Bibliothek zu Berllin,1887 - 99, No.5517 .

8. R. d’Erlanger, La Musique arabe, Geuthner, Paris,1930 , 1, p. 39.

9. Kitab al-Kafi fi al-Musiqi, British museum MS., Or.2361 , f. 220v.

10. Jami‘ al-‘Ulum, British Museum MS., Or.2972 , f. 153.

11. Loc. cit

12. Koshf al-Mahjub tr. R. A. Nicholson, Brill,m Leiden,1911 , p. 403.

13. Cf. Cicero, who spoke of the eyes as “windows of the soul.”

14. Al-Ghazālī, Ihya’ ‘Ulum Al-Din, Cairo,1326 /1908 , vol. 2, pp. 88, 182.

15. H. G. Farmer, History of Arabian Music, Luzac, London,1929 , Chap. 2.

16. Ibn Khaldun, Prolegomena, Notices et Extraits des manuscrits de la Bibliotheque Ntionale, Paris,1858 , 16, p. 155, 17, pp. 42, 363.

17. Ibid., 16, p. 365.

18. Ibid., 17, p. 254.

19. J. Robson, op. cit., p. 93.

20. Ibn ‘Abdi Rabbihi, al-‘Iqd al-Farid, Cairo,1305 /1887 , 3, p. 177, tr. H.G. Farmer, in Music: The Priceless Jewel, Bearsden,1942 , p. 6.

21. Although some urge that one must discriminate between takbirs (raising the voice) and ghina (singing), the fact remains that purely secular melodies were used. See “La Qir’ah bi al-Alhan” by M. Talbi, in Arabica, Leiden,1958 , 5, pp. 183 - 90.

22. H. G. Farmer, A History of Arabian Music, London,1929 , Chap 1.

23. Al-Ghazālī, op. cit., vol. 2, p. 206.

24. Al-Isfahani, Kitab al-Aghani al-Kabir, Bulaq,1285 /1869 , 2, pp. 170 - 76; Encyclopaedia of Islam, Leiden,1913 - 38, 4, p. 983.

25. H. G. Farmer, in the New Oxford History of Music, Oxford University Press, London,1956 , 1, p. 421.

26. Idem, Studies in Oriental Musical Instruments, Reeves, London,1932 , 1, pp. 91 - 99.

27. Idem, Music: The Priceless Jewel, Bearsden,1942 , pp, 9 - 17.

28. Al-Isfahani, op. cit., 26, pp. 13 - 20.

29. Ibid., 7, pp. 188 - 90; 2, pp. 120 - 27; 5, pp. 161 - 64.

30. Al-Mas‘udi, Les praires d’or..., Paris,1861 - 77, 6, p. 4.

31. Al-Isfahani, op. cit., pp. 98, 151; 2, p. 127.

32. Ibid., 1, pp. 19 - 29, 97 - 129, 150 - 52; 2, pp. 128 - 48.

33. Kanz al-Tahaf, British Museum MS., Or.2361 , f. 247 5.

34. A. U. Pope, A survey of Persian Art, O. U. P., London,1938 , p.2790 .

35. H. G. Farmer, A History of Arabian Music, London,1929 , p. 99.

36. A.l-Isfahani, op. cit., 6, pp. 64 - 68.

37. Ibid., 6, pp. 69 - 92.

38. Ibid., p. 16.

39. Ibid., 15, p. 63.

40. Ibid., 5, pp. 2 - 48.

41. Ibid., 1, pp. 2, 4 - 6.

42. Ibid., 10, pp. 120 - 32.

43. See Mas‘ud Hassan Shamsi, “Ulayya, a Less Known ‘Abbasid Pricness,” Islamic Culture, Hyderabad, April1937 .

44. Al-Isfahani, op. cit., 9, p. 49.

45. Ibid., 5, pp. 52 - 131.

46. Ibn al-Nadim, Kitab al-Fihirist, Leipzig,1871 - 72, pp. 141 - 43.

47. Al-Mas‘audi, op. cit., 6, p. 191; 7, p. 276; al-Isfahani, op. cit., 9, p. 104.

48. Al-Isahani, op. cit., 8, pp. 175 - 78.

49. Ibid., 8, p. 178.

50. Ibn al-Nadim, op. cit., p. 116.

51. Al-Isfahani, op, cit., 8, p. 43.

52. Ibn al-Nadim, op. cit., p. 115.

53. J. Ribera, La Musica de las cantigar, Madrid,1922 , pp. 53 - 74.

54. Al-Isfahani, op. cit., 20, p. 149; alpmaqqari, Analectes aur l’histoire et la literature des Arabes d’Espagne, Leiden,1885 - 61, 2, pp. 97 - 98.

55. Ibn Khaldun, op. cit., 17, p. 361.

56. Al-Maqqari, op. cit., 2, p. 85.

57. Al-Khushani, Historia de la jueces de Cordoba, Madrid,1914 , p. 88.

58. Encyclopaedia of Islam,1913 - 38, Suppl. vol., pp. 266 - 67.

59. Al-Maqqari, op, cit., 2, p. 396.

60. Ibid., 1, p. 250.

61. Ibn Hazm, Tauq al-Hamamah, Leiden,1914 , p. 29.

62. R. Dozy, Historia de los Musulmanes Espagnoles, Sevilla,1877 , 3, p. 348.

63. Cairo edition,1301 ; see H. G. Farmer, Music: The priceless Jewel, London,1942 .

64. Al-Mas‘udi, op. cit., 8, pp. 90 - 91.

65. Al-Isfahani, op. cit., 5, p. 3.

66. H. G. Farmer, Sources of Arabian Music, Bearsden,1940 , p. 22.

67. Al-Isfahani, op. cit., 8, p. 43.

68. Ibn Abi Usaibi‘ah, ‘Uyun al-Anba’, Konigsberg,1882 - 84, 1, p. 320.

69. Minhaj Siraj, Tabaqat-i Nasiri, tr. H. G. Raverty, London,1881 1, p. 153.

70. E. G. Browne, A Literary History of Persia, University Press, Cambridge, 1, p. 456.

71. Ibid., 1, pp. 458 - 59.

72. R. D’Erlanger, op. cit., 1, p. 42.

73. Al-Maqrizi, al-Mawa‘iz, in Memoires de l’Institut Francais d’Archeologie Orientale, Cairo,1906 , 3, pp. 217 - 18

74. Al-Ma‘udi, op. cit., 2, pp. 364 - 65.

75. See Section C.

76. E. G. Browne, op. cit., 1, p. 406.

77. Ibid., loc. cit.

78. Al-Isfahani, op. cit., 21, p. 101.

79. Encyclopaedia of Islam,1913 - 39, 3, p. 885.

80. J. Amendroz and D. S. Margoliouth, The Eclipse of the ‘Abbasid Caliphate, Oxford,1920 - 21, 2, p. 234.

81. Ibid., 3, pp. 41, 68.

82. Ibn Khallikan, Biographical Dictionary, Paris-London,1843 - 71, 3, p. 494.

83. Al-Maqrizi, op. cit., p. 355.

84. Safar Namah, Paris,1881 ,pp. 43, 46 - 47.

85. W, Agkwardt, op. cit.

86. Hajji Khalifah, Kashf al-Zunun, Peipsiz,1835 - 39, 1, p. 367.

87. Encyclopaedia of Islam,1913 - 39, 1, p. 223

88. R. Dozy, Scriptorum Arabum de Abbasidis, Leiden,1846 - 63, 1, p. 394; 2, p. 16.

89. J. Ribera, op. cit., p. 72.

90. Ibid.

91. Mihaj Siraj, op. cit., 1, p. 153.

92. Nazami-i ‘Arudi,Chahar Maqqalah, Lonton,1910 , p. 38.

93. Minhaj Siraj, op, cit, 1 pp. 387 - 88, 404

94. H. G. Farmer, Sources, p. 45.

95. Encyclopaedia of Islam, Suppl. vol. pp. 191 - 92.

96. Ibn Battutah, Voyages, Paris,1853 - 58, 2, pp. 116 - 17.

97. H. G. Farmer, “Persian Music,” in Grove’s Dictionary of Music,1654 , 6, pp. 676 - 82.

98. Idem, “Egyptian Music,” ibid, 2, pp. 891 - 97.

99. Cairo edition,1344 /1925 , 5, pp. 1 - 122.

100. S. Lane-Poole, A History of Egypt in the Middle Ages, London,1901 , p. 284.

101. H. G. Farmer, “Table Khanah” Encyclopaedia of Islam, Suppl. Vol. pp. 217 - 22.

102. Idem, “Oriental Influences on Occidental Music,” Islamic Culture, Hyderabad, April1941 , pp. 235 - 38.

103. Idem, “Pakistani Music,” Urdu Encyclopaedia of Islam.

104. Journal Asiatique, Ser. 4, 5.1845 , p. 448; Encyclopaedia of Islam, Leiden1954 , 1, p. 66.

105. Notices et Extraits des Manuscrit de la Bibliotheque du Roi, Paris,1843 , 14, p. 137.

106. Daulatshah, Tadhkirat al-Shu‘ara, London,1901 . p. 350.

107. Babur Nameh, tr. A. S. Beveridge, London,1921 , pp. 272, 291 - 92.

108. J. Ribera, op. cit., p. 76.

109. H. G. Farmer, in Grove’s Dictionary of Music, 5, pp. 863 - 76.

110. See “Maghribi Music,” Urdu Encyclopaedia of Islam.

111. E. J. W. Gibb, History of ottoman Poetry, London,1900 - 09.

112. H. G. Farmer, Turkish Instruments of Music in the 17th Century, Glasgow,1937 , pp. 37 - 38.

113. Tarikh Turki, vols. 2 and 3, dar al-Kutub, Cairo.

114. Narrative of Travels...in the 17th Century by Evliya Efendi, London,1846 - 50, 1, pp. 225 - 28, 238 - 40.

115. D. Cantemir, The History...of the Othman Empire, London,1734 , pp. 248 - 49.

116. Encyclopedie de la Musique, Paris,1922 , p.2980 .

117. Urdu Encyclopaedia of Islam, s.v. “Pakistani Music”

118. Babur Nameh, tr. A. S. Beveridge, London,1921 , 1, p. 422.

119. The Music of Hindustan, Oxford,1914 , p. 83, where he is called “Numa Khan.”

120. C. Hurt, in A. Lavignac, Encyclopedie de la musique, p.3073 .

121. A. U. Pope, op. cit. p.2802 .

122. British Museum MS., Or.2361 , ff. 2 v., 15.

123. Voyages du Chevalier Chardin, Amsterdam,1735 , 3, pp. 158 - 61.

124. Harmonie Universelle, Paris,1636 - 37, 2, Traite de instrumens, p. 228.

125. British Museum MS., Or.2361 .

126. Grove’s Dictionary of Music,1954 , 4, pp. 528 - 33.

127. Voyage en Arabic, Amsterdam,1776 - 80, 1, pp. 142 - 51.

128. The Natural History of Aleppo, London,1756 , pp. 93 - 96, edition1794 , 4, pp. 150 - 57.

Chapter 60: Historiography

The debt that history owes to the efforts of Muslim writers is generally recognized by Orientalists, but the consciousness of the value and significance of the Muslim contribution is rare among Western historians. Every known sizable collection of Islamic manuscripts includes a good proportion of historical works1 which in itself is a fair indication of the importance attached by Muslim scholarship to history. A comparison between the outputs of historical literature by the Muslims before decay set in and the Islamic civilization began to decline and the histories written during or before that period by other peoples will show what great interest was taken by the followers of Islam in history. A similar comparison in the standards achieved will be equally illuminating. It would be no exaggeration to say that in the Middle Ages, history was very much a Muslim science. Their contribution is even more remarkable in view of the fact that the Muslims had inherited very meagre traditions on which they raised so glorious an edifice.

For several decades the Orientalists were not impressed with the Muslim traditions regarding the magnitude of ignorance in pre-Islamic Arabia. They saw in them an endeavor to exaggerate the achievement of Islam by belittling pre-Islamic Arab effort; even the silence of Muslim writers was suspect. Partly for this reason and partly with the desire to belittle the success of Islam in uplifting the Arabs, the Orientalists made strenuous efforts to find proofs of pre-Muslim attainments, but they did not discover much. In the words of a recent authority, “the cultural and economic level of the nomad population was, as it has always been, too low to support any literary effort.2 The Arabs did produce some poetry, a fact mentioned and recognized by Muslim authorities, but they had little conception of other branches of lite­rature. They do not seem even to have a word for history. Some of the earlier writers have used the term akhbdr for history; the singular form, khabar, is used even today for a report or information.

This has been the meaning of the word in Muslim times; the earlier meaning of this word is obscure. As the name implies, akhbdr is generally understood to mean a string, a collec­tion, or, at best, a connected sequence of reports, and only in the last form does it achieve the form of a historical narration of events. The origin of the word tdrikh, which is now generally used for history, is even more difficult to trace. Its root form perhaps came to be used in the Yaman in the pre­Islamic days, but, in all probability, it referred to time, not to history.3 This significance of the word has not yet been lost; indeed, the word tdrikh is used more often in the meaning of a date than of history.

It is obvious that with­out even a proper word for it, the Arabs could have little conception of history before the advent of Islam. They had a few stories of what they had considered to have been important or interesting events and vague, probably untrue, legends of the peoples who had inhabited the old ruins that were scattered in some parts of the peninsula. They lacked even a proper epic; indeed, they were a people with no consciousness of history. The Muslims, therefore, could not have drawn any inspiration for the development of a tradition of historiography from the pre-Islamic Arabs.

The Greek sciences made a most significant contribution to Islamic culture, but in the field of history, the Greek influence is difficult to trace. No classical Greek history ever reached the Arabs; the Greek and the Latin annalistic literature has been lost and is not available even to the modem scholar.4 History, however, was a much less important sector of Greek and Latin scholar­ ship; it was not considered of sufficient merit to be included in the curriculum of regular studies. The Muslims adopted the branches of learning that were considered to possess sufficient importance in the eyes of the Greeks themselves; the Greek tradition was kept alive in these subjects. One of the reasons for the loss of classical Greek historical literature may be the fact that the Arabs showed no interest in its preservation.

The Byzantines had traditions of historiography and it is not beyond the range of possibility that some of their works came into the hands of the Arabs through Syrian Christians and converts to Islam. They might have contributed some techniques, but these techniques could not have been important.5 In any case, the Arabs could not have derived their historical sense from the Byzantines.

The other two great civilizations with which the Arabs came into close contact were those of the Iranians and the Hindus. The Hindus never de­veloped an interest in history. There is little indication of the Iranians possessing any notable historical literature at the time of the Muslim conquest.6

It is, therefore, more likely that the Arabs developed a sense of history as a result of the Prophet Muhammad's mission. Indeed, all indications point in this direction; hence they need exploration. It should be remembered that Islam itself claims to work in the context of history. It fulfils the previous missions of the prophets who had come before Muhammad.7 It seeks to abrogate the excrescences that came to disfigure truth in the course of time, because the generations that had gone before had failed to preserve the earlier revelations.8 Prophets had come in various societies at different times and had preached the same essential truth, but there had grown up errors and misunderstandings, some deliberate and perverse and others as the result of folly, and divine revelation had become clouded. Now this basic belief shows a consciousness of history. It is concerned with the past, the present, and even the future.

The future comes in because Muhammad being the last of the prophets9 and the bearer of a message of transcendent impor­tance, his mission will remain effective throughout the future. This conception of religion is not concerned with the present only. It does not look upon the present as merely transient, nor upon the past as the sum total of merely so many transient and insignificant presents. This is borne out by the fact that the Qur'an draws attention repeatedly to the misdeeds of previous peoples and their destruction as the result of these misdoings.10 The warning is implicit in the narrative itself, but it is also given explicitly on many oc­casions. If the past produced all those disastrous results, or if, conversely, virtuous deeds in the past were fruitful in producing good results, there is a relationship between the past, the present, and the future which is significant in fashioning human life. History, in this manner, achieves great importance in understanding life.

There is another aspect of Islam that has an important bearing upon history. Muhammad has 4 unique place in history. According to the Muslim belief, Muhammad stands, as if it were, on the watershed of time. The pro­gress that had been vouchsafed to humanity before him was to find fulfilment in his mission. The previous messages were limited to particular peoples and their environments and conditions. They had the special circumstances of these people in view; hence they had contained, in addition to an emphasis upon the universal nature of the absolute values, certain teachings that were valid only in the circumstances in which they were revealed.

The succession of the previous prophets had worked for the completion of religious belief, for a perfection in the unveiling of the great truths, and for giving humanity the essence of religious truth, untrammeled by the need to circumscribe it by a consideration of the transient environment. Muhammad, thus, represents the culmination of one divine plan and the beginning of another. The first plan was designed to meet the differing needs of various segments of the human race, the second plan for the entire humanity. The very pattern of religious progress changes after Muhammad, because now there is a universal message to follow, the essence indeed of all that has gone before.

With this belief about the position of the Prophet in time, it was natural that the Muslims should cultivate the historic sense. Christianity also believes in a divine plan of history; indeed, the Church, encouraged by the power and expansion of the Christian nations, came to believe strongly that it was the will of God that Christianity should prosper in the world and in this manner the Kingdom of God should be ultimately established on earth. Only recently with the growth of communist States has this belief somewhat weakened. However, even when the Church held a strong conviction regarding the ultimate triumph of Christianity and looked upon history as the gradual revelation of the divine plan, its conception of the importance of the unfolding of the historical processes was not the same as that of the Muslims.

According to the Christian dogma, Christ is the man-god; he did come at a particular time in history, but that time has no special significance because, as God, Christ is eternal, timeless, and infinite. Only for the time that he was in this world, did he put upon himself the limitations of a finite human existence. He came to redeem the world and he did it by paying for it with his own life. In a sense this redemption is the culmination of religious evolution. It was for this reason that the earlier Christians saw in every disaster the approach of the end of the world. Having been redeemed, the world had achieved the goal; there was nothing beyond it. The further unfolding of history was irrelevant.

The Muslim position was basically different. The Qur'an enjoined that there should be a body among the Muslims dedicated to the task of preaching the truth11 ; indeed, the Muslims themselves were to form a nation to invite others to accept the truth and to set an example for the world.12 Muhammad was the last of the prophets, but his mission was to be carried on by the learned among his people. It was for this reason that he had said that these learned people were to be like the prophets of Israel; in other words, what had hitherto been achieved through a succession of prophets was to be accomplished through the agency of learned men.

This sharp contrast between the destiny of Islam and the earlier religions was bound to set people thinking about the elements responsible for this change in the divine plan. How had the world changed to need a new dispen­sation so radically different, in its purpose from what had gone before? This question was even more pertinent since it was not the nature of the truth that had changed; for did not Islam claim to be all revealed truth, whether it had come before Muhammad or through him? And what was the truth that had come before? How far did it conform to the message of the Qur'an?

How much of the truth claimed by the previous religions was interpolation, and how much of it incidental to the circumstances of those days and the peoples who; had been its recipients? These were the questions that arose natu­rally, and all of them are either directly historical or have historical overtones. They were rooted not only in natural curiosity, but, as we shall see later, also in theology itself.

In its exhortations for belief and righteousness, the Qur'an does not depend entirely upon appeal to emotions. It argues and appeals to reason at innumer­able places. Phenomena of nature, legends contained in older Scriptures, the impact of ruined cities and buildings upon the imagination of a sensitive people, and historical events are all pressed into service. Indeed, there are considerable historical data in the Qur'an.13 The inclusion of these allusions in large num­bers led the critics of the Prophet to question the relevance of human experience in the past. They dismissed them as being merely the records of peoples who had gone before.14 The unbelievers implied that what had happened in the past was of little importance to them. They certainly did not believe that history had any lessons for them.

The Qur'an, on the other hand, considers the experience of the past generations and of other peoples to be of vital importance. The underlying argument is that similar actions and circum­stances produce similar results. The Qur'an thus lays down one of the first principles that guided the Muslims in their study of history. They wanted to learn from the experience of others. Besides, human activity is not an isolated phenomenon; it is linked with the past as much as with the future. Being implicit in the very conception of Muhammad as one of the prophets and the last of them, it found confirmation in the insistence of the Qur'an on the importance of historical phenomena in the determination of right and wrong.

If any human action has brought disaster, that action could not be right except as the vindication of the principle of righteousness itself. And in judging the results of human activity, the Qur'an does not take into consideration the individual. It is the sum total of communal activity which cannot be right if it produces disasters.15

A good man working for the common good in a bad community may suffer, but he has his other rewards. A bad man in a good community may not suffer, but he has his other punishments. This is the reason why prophets and martyrs seemingly failed in bad communities which hurled themselves into disasters; from a purely worldly point of view they even suffered grievously, but actually they were saved and the evil-doers really suffered. And in the stories of the bad communities and the suffering prophets, there is another implication. The good that the prophets had sought to achieve might not have been established in their own times or communities but it ultimately did prevail, and this shows a continuity of the historical process in which righteousness ultimately wins.

Apart from their moral and philosophical implications, which helped in creating a historical sense in the Muslims, the historical allusions in the Qur'an presented a challenge to the Muslim mind. The Muslims wanted to learn more about them, and thus began a search for more detailed information. It is true that with their limited resources and the condition of human knowledge in their days, the information collected by the early Muslims was not always accurate. Considerable legendary material, folklore, and mythology entered into their understanding of the historical facts mentioned in the Qur’an. A fertile source of legendary material was the Jewish tradition. The net gain was that historical curiosity had been aroused. Some of the earlier mistakes were never corrected, but others were discarded when critical faculties got sharpened by greater experience and knowledge.16

There was yet another aspect of religion that directly led to the cultivation of history. Muhammad is a historical figure; he lived in the limelight of history. His biography has always been considered to be a cornerstone of Muslim theology17 and, therefore, the events of his life were eagerly sought and col­lected. So long as his immediate disciples and Companions were alive, this was a simple matter, but as time elapsed, it was considered increasingly neces­sary to collect all information about him. Where the believers could not find clear guidance from the Qur'an, or where there was dispute in the interpreta­tion of its text, the best authority could be the Prophet's actions and sayings.

Thus, there grew up the tradition of collecting the ahadith, and after some time when the original narrators had died and there had intervened several genera­tions so that for every hadith there were several narrators in succession, it was necessary to submit the reports to searching criticism. The scholars deve­loped canons of criticism that have not only endured but have earned the respect of the succeeding generations for their soundness18

Modern scholar­ship can find fault with some of the traditions that have been judged to be sound, but the canons of criticism and of testing the validity of reports are trustworthy even today. This was no mean achievement and shows not only a keen sense of responsibility but also a high perception of the criteria which should be applied to any narration. After all this is the kernel of all methods of historical research.

A by-product of this search was the compilation of working biographies of all the better known narrators. In this process those considered unreliable were branded as such. The biographers made the most careful and impartial scrutiny, and if they found any trace of deceit or even a charge of lying in any respect, they exposed the narrator so that the traditions, in the chain of the narrators in which he appeared, might at least be treated with extreme caution. As it was a theological and religious matter and concerned the beliefs of all Muslims, the critics developed the highest sense of intellectual honesty. Despite these efforts and precautions, some unreliable traditions have found their way into the “authentic collections,” but when it is remembered that the collectors discarded many more traditions than were considered sufficiently sound to be accepted, it would be clear how well the criteria were applied.

A remarkable testimony to the historical sense of the Muslims is their suc­cess in preserving the text of the Qur'an. It really arose from two of the teachings of the Book itself. The first of these is the doctrine of the corruption of the previous Scriptures through changes or interpolations. The other is the promise that the Qur'an shall be preserved.19 According to the Muslim belief, the corruption of the previous Scriptures resulted in the misguidance of the people to the extent that the shape of the original faith was changed beyond recognition. The Muslims had been given the Qur'an, which they were to cherish and preserve in the original form. They believe in the verbal sanctity of the Qur'an. This led them to preserve the text. Taking into consideration the differences in languages in the Muslim world and the rise of various sects in Islam, this is quite an achievement. The preservation of the text of the Qur'an could not but have engendered a respect for the texts of documents of any importance.

It would be seen from this discussion that historiography in the Muslim world had religious beginnings. It was religion that gave the Muslims their historical sense, and the requirements of developing a theology made it imperative for the Muslim theologians to undertake historical research and to lay down canons of evaluating historical data for eliminating doubt and error so far as it was humanly possible. It led them to explore the tradi­tions of religions allied to their own which had preceded the mission of the Prophet in point of time. Indeed, historical studies started in Islam as a necessary adjunct of theological development20 . It was necessary, therefore, for the Muslims to cultivate a religious attitude towards history, which could not be discarded easily. Indeed, even when history ventured out into the courts of worldly monarchs, it was not able to overcome some of the con­ceptions developed in the cloisters of the mosques and the colleges of theology.

The theologians looked upon their work as an act of worship; hence it was to be approached with the utmost sincerity. In such work all merit was lost if any selfish motives were permitted to interfere with its objectivity. The scholar considered himself to be accountable to God for every fact that he reported or any opinion that he expressed.21 Indeed in the beginning he was doubtful whether he was justified in expressing an adverse opinion about anyone.22 However, he was strengthened by the Prophet's example of not hesitating from censuring a person in the public interest, or from expressing an opinion that would save others from trouble and hardship.23

In the reporting of facts and the expression of opinions, therefore, the writer felt himself bound by the ethics of a witness or a judge. He would not report anything about which he was not certain; he would weigh all the evidence at his disposal and try to adjudicate fairly upon the merits of the report and the character of the narrator. He would not be a party to the perpetuation of a false report. In reporting a tradition of the Prophet he was conscious of the Muslim belief that the Prophet had strongly forbidden his followers to ascribe a saying or a tradition to him falsely. Therefore, he wanted to avoid at all costs any participation in such an act. The secular historians unhesitatingly imbibed these ideas and adopted the same attitude in their fields.24

This attitude created high standards of objectivity. Indeed, quite often objectivity was carried to ridiculous extremes. Not a few books written by Muslim authors are dry and jejune chronicles of events without any comments or value-judgments. The authors felt that it was their duty to narrate the events and that it was the business of the reader to arrive at his own conclusions. They did not believe that the historian's function was to narrate the facts as well as to interpret them. Such an attitude was crippling for a proper develop­ment of history as a social science. There was, however, a brighter side to this objectivity, a scrupulous regard for the truth. Even when history was written with a political objective in view, the facts were not mutilated.

The best examples are furnished by two Muslim historians of the Indo­-Pakistan sub-continent. Abu al-Fadl wrote the Akbarnameh with the blatantly clear object of extolling his patron, Akbar.25 Mulla 'Abd al-Qadir Badayuni, on the other hand, wrote his Muntakhab al-Tawarikh, it seems, to prove to the world that Akbar had strayed away from the right path. Shorn of the propaganda against Akbar, Badayiini's book is merely an avowed redaction of Nizam al-Din Ahmad's Tabagati Akbari. Badaynni has added information about Akbar's lapses from his personal observation and also from hearsay.

The general effect is pretty damning from the orthodox Muslim point of view. On closer analysis, however, it appears that Badayuni has suggested more than his words really convey, and, being a master of studied ambiguity and innuendo, he is able to create impressions without taking responsibility for some of the events that he reports. Wherever he is reporting an incident or a fact that is obviously not correct, he prefaces it by a vague remark like “It is reported that....” Sometimes he writes sentences that can be translated in more than one way.26 Such ambiguity, however, occurs only where the author deliberately seeks to suggest what he does not want to say. This was not done for any fear of the monarch, because Badayuni's book was kept secret during Akbar's reign.27

It was Badayuni's regard for the verbal and the literal truth that led him into these devious paths. He was perhaps not bothered about the general effect because he was probably convinced, as were several other men of high repute, of Akbar's heterodoxy. Badayuni left the path of historical rectitude only in heightening an effect that he considered to be true. Abu al-Fadl, who approached his task with an entirely different purpose, is hard put to it where he finds it difficult to justify or explain away some measure or action of the monarch. He adopts the method not of ignoring it, but of making a veiled reference to it that a discerning reader can well under­stand. Abu al-Fadl, his general panegyrics apart, shows a high regard for truth in reporting events. He was probably also convinced of the truth of the general theme of his work, namely, that Akbar was a monarch of unusual ability and that he was inclined to show remarkable benevolence towards his subjects.

Whatever axes the two authors had to grind are, however, quite apparent to the reader, but he cannot help being impressed by the pathetic regard for truth that is so apparent in these works and that is so difficult to main­tain because of the patently partial approaches of the authors. These are perhaps extreme examples, but they are by no means unique in the history of Muslim historiography. Nizam al-Din Ahmad, whose work has been mentioned above, provides a good example of the extreme objectivity observed by some Muslim historians, because, living in the midst of such acute controversy regarding the monarch's religious policies and attitudes and himself being orthodox in his own religious beliefs, he does not even as much as mention the topic. He could not have considered it unimportant, being an observer of good sensitivity, but he left it out because he did not want to pass value-judgments on matters which he disliked.

The Muslim monarchs were extremely sensitive regarding the verdict of the posterity on their deeds. They had the common human weakness of being desirous of leaving a good name behind them. Historians were, therefore, courted and patronized. A number of histories have been written by men who in varying degrees can be called “Court historians.” In some European circles their works are treated with suspicion, which is not justified in all cases. We have seen how men of probity have not twisted facts even when they seemed to mar their own thesis; at worst, they may have been guilty in some instances of the suppression of some unpalatable truth or the suggestion of virtues that did not exist. They could not have invented events.

Their faults can mostly be remedied easily-any hyperbolic praise of a patron is understood to be merely a matter of form; the pure and unabashed panegyric can be easily dismissed as being out of context.28

When a weakling is called a world-conquering hero by a writer, it is understood that the epithet is only an expression of courtesy conveying nothing, but a Muslim historian does not invent imaginary victories to adorn sober history. If a historian misses some event, he knows that others are likely to mention it and that he will be held guilty by posterity; therefore, there are few instances of deliberate misrepresentation by Muslim historians, and these have often been corrected by subsequent writers or even their own contemporaries.

The historians who had access to monarchs and their ministers were well informed and to that extent are more reliable. In an age when the printing press had not made the daily newspaper possible and governments were not publicity-conscious in the modern sense of the term, the isolated scholar was hard put to it to collect the necessary data for an informative book relating the events of a reign. One has only to compare the bazaar gossip related by European travelers to India with the sober histories of the period to see how distorted the reports of events did become once they had left the pre­cincts of the Court and the circles of persons in contact with the high officials.

A Court historian was in no less desperate a position than a historian of today who is overwhelmed by the information material issuing from the publicity departments of modern governments, especially when his own emotions are also deeply involved, e.g., in a crisis in which his own nation is concerned. The Court historian had his own reputation at stake because he intended to write for posterity. The professional code established by histo­rians could not be transgressed with impunity.

However, not all historians who were otherwise attached to a Court can be called Court historians. There have existed men of the highest probity who were attached to Courts and wrote historical works, but they cannot be termed Court historians. Amir Khusrau enjoyed the patronage of several monarchs but he was not employed as a historian. Badayuni, while attached to Akbar's Court, wrote against him. Nizam al-Din Ahmad held a high office in the government, but the recording of history was not one of his duties. It is doubtful whether even abu al-Fadl can be called a Court historian in spite of his great par­tiality for Akbar, because his official assignments were of an administrative or military nature.

The famous Abmad bin Yabya al-Baladhuri was a nadim of the Caliph al-Mutawakkil; 'Ata bin Muhammad al-Juwaini was a wazir; other government officials who were also historians of some eminence include Muhammad Yabya al-Siili, Sinan bin habit, Abu 'Ali Abmad bin Muhammad Miskawaih, and Salah al-Din Khalil bin Aibak al-Safadi, to name only a few. The great ibn Khaldun was a Qadi, but this was not considered so much of a government office as a religious obligation to be discharged by those quali­fied for it if they were called upon by the monarch to assume the responsi­bility.

There were some princes and rulers who took an interest in history and wrote works of considerable merit. An outstanding example is Isma'il bin 'Ali Abu al-Fide' who, in the midst of the busy life of a statesman and soldier, found time to write authoritative history. The 'Abbasid prince Abu Hashim Yosuf bin Muhammad al-Zahir wrote a history of the reign of his brother, al-Mustansir bi-Allah. Some of the rulers of the Yaman, like Jaiyas bin Najah (d. 501/1107), al-Afdal al-'Abbas bin 'Ali (d. 779/1377), and al-­Ashraf Isma'il bin 'Abbas (d. 805/1402) were responsible for historical works.29 None of these can be called Court historians, nor are their works prejudiced because of their high offices.

Diaries and memoirs are a fruitful source for historical studies. Indeed, some memoirs are our mainstay so far as the historical information regarding some areas at certain times is concerned. In this category come the memoirs of Zahir al-Din Muhammad Babur, whose stormy life presents not only one of the most exciting studies in history, but also gives us an insight into the political conditions of Central Asia after Timur's Empire had collapsed. He is rightly known as the prince of all diarists because of his frank narration of events, in which he also discloses his own humane personality, telling us in a most charming manner his weaknesses and recording his triumphs with­out any bragging. He hides neither his elation at success, nor sorrow at his defeat.

This chiaroscuro of victory and defeat, of weakness and strength, of lapses and piety, and of ambition and frustration reveals a sensitive and lovable personality possessed of artistic sensibilities, all of which makes the Tuzuk extremely readable in addition to being informative. To take another example, his great grandson, Nur al-Din Muhammad Jahangir, also wrote his memoirs. Jahangir had known no adversity; his tale could not be so thrilling as that of Babur;' besides, he wrote not as an ambitious adventurer, albeit crowned and of imperial descent, as Babur did, but as an established ruler of a great empire. And yet, Jahangir's memoirs do not show any lack of sensitivity. He is as keen an observer of human character as his illustrious ancestor was, as artistic in his own manner, being one of the greatest patrons of art, and an excellent critic and connoisseur. In spite of the inherent pomposity in the writing of an emperor who knows that his book will be read by his subjects even in his own lifetime, the book does not lack obvious sincerity.

These examples can be multiplied from other periods and other lands in the context of Muslim historiography. The main point is that the suspicion in which certain Western writers uncritically hold any writer associated with a Court is not justified. Those who transgressed the requirements of historical objecti­vity were forgotten and subsequent scholars and historians did not fail to criticize or even condemn them for their lapses. In the words of Diya' al-Din Barani, “it is necessary that the historian be known and famous for his truth and just dealing” and when “he writes of the excellences, the good deeds, the justice and equity of the ruler or of a great man, he must also not conceal his vices and evil deeds. ..; the attention of the truthful, pious, and sincere historian should be directed towards writing the truth. He should be in fear of answering on the Day of Judgment.... In sum, history is a rare and useful form of knowledge and its writing is a great obligation.30

As the writing of history was looked upon as a religious duty, the highest objecti­vity and impartiality were its criteria in the mind of the Muslim historian. There were black sheep as well and sometimes the desire for gain or the fear of a tyrant overcame the sense of responsibility of the writer, but he generally was relegated to oblivion.

Muslim historiography took several forms. The pre-Islamic Arabs took great pride in their genealogies. Like other primitive peoples, they generally kept verbal records which on some occasions were even publicly recited. Of course this often resulted in bragging and was a fruitful source of tribal war­fare and vendetta. The practice of maintaining genealogies was kept up under Islam as well, and many non-Arab families seem to have adopted the habit. It is unlikely that in the pre-Islamic period the Arabs bothered to remember the main events connected with the life of every ancestor. Some famous anecdotes or events might have been associated with some outstanding names, but an idea of a connected family history or biography, however sketchy, of even the better known men in the family tree was unknown. It is even more improbable that any of these genealogies were committed to writing in the pre-Islamic period. The main features of these genealogies were fairly well known even outside the group of those to whom a genealogy belonged and any fraudulent claim was soon countered. In a way this was the early Arab way of remembering their tribal origin, but it had little to do with real history.

When the Muslims took up historiography, genealogies proved helpful in understanding the part played by the Arab tribes in Islamic history. With the growing participation of the non-Arab Muslims in the affairs of the Islamic world the genealogical pattern came to be discarded in the greater part of the Muslim world. The origin of the genealogical works like Zubair bin Bakkar's Nasab-u Quraish was the exaltation of the Quraish; this was feasible because the ruling dynasties of the Umayyads and the `Abbasids were alike Quraish. Baladhuri's Kitab al-Ansab is the classical example of history being dealt with from the angle of genealogy. However, with the inclusion of so many non-Arab peoples in the world of Islam and their rise to power, such treatment became obsolete. It, however, thrived in the Maghrib, especially in Spain, because tribal considerations continued to play an important part in the area and history could be grouped around the activities of some tribes and clans. Private families, particularly some of the 'Alids and Hashimites, were interested in keeping a record of their ancestry.

Family histories have continued to be written up to this day. Most families, however, contented themselves with keeping their genealogies in tabular forms. Shajarahs were quite common in the Muslim world, but they cannot be classified as history. The Arabs, however, were given to tribal fighting which continued for con­siderable time and had the tendency to be rekindled at the slightest pretext. The memory of a spectacular or significant victory was kept alive. The battle­ day tradition occupied an important place in the folklore of early Arabia. Those who had distinguished themselves in a battle or had inflicted a humiliat­ing defeat on their adversary continued to brag about it long after. In fact, scholars are inclined to think that this form of narration was common to the earlier Semites as well. It is present in the older sections of the Bible.31

These traditions did not form a continuous narration like an epic; every anecdote stood by itself and spoke of a single event. In the Bible they have been grouped into a continuous narration, but each event can be read separately. It is improbable that any such anecdotes were committed to writing in pre-­Islamic Arabia.32 They were, however, known to the Arab historians of the Muslim period. They did not find their way into the Muslim historical literature before the seventh/thirteenth century, because the earlier historians were doubtful of their historical worth. They were valuable for philological studies, but not as sources of history, because they partook of fiction, being generally one-sided and meant to glorify one side.

Besides, they were not intended to be sober history; indeed, their original purpose was not the preservation of any historical fact, the conception of which was unknown to the pre-Islamic Arabs, but to be sources for entertainment for the listeners when recited. They were, however, significant in one sense: they created a tradition of recording a single event.

The narration of single events and their reporting is capable of independent and impartial treatment, and thus provides us with the raw material of history. These events can be strung together either chronologically or on the basis of a period, a locality, or even a topic. The treatment, however, tends to differ from continuous narration, because every report is a unit in itself. The line is not easy to draw and yet it is not difficult to see where the emphasis upon individual events is, even though they may be connected. This form of historiography came into vogue among the Muslims fairly early and is referred to by the name of akhbar. In its singular form, khabar, the word means a report, an item of news. In the oldest form of Muslim historiography one comes across small pamphlets written to describe a single event, like the pre-Islamic narra­tion of single battles.

The simple narration soon gave place to the description of the event followed by a discussion of the causes which were responsible for its happening. Even though such a description related to only a single event, it came closer to the present method of discussing the genesis of a happening. The single khabar gave place gradually to akhbar, a collection of several or many khabars. Theoretically, this could be quite disconnected, but the events or anecdotes came to have a focal point regarding a place or a subject and in their arrangement showed a consciousness of chronological sequence. Even in this form the method had serious handicaps.

A khabar was a well-rounded narrative, but the continuity of a historical process is difficult to convey in this manner. Any deep interpretation of facts also is ruled out, because the tendency is to look upon life as a series of separate incidents without much anxiety to discover their interaction. Every khabar was told like a vivid short story, hence it tended to sacrifice clarity and factual­ism for the creation of effect. This was sometimes achieved by the insertion of a few verses to drive a point home or to give it a dramatic quality. Indeed, it was not uncommon for the historian to retreat into the background and let the chief characters speak for themselves, very much like a dramatic dialogue.

In this form the facts were lost in the midst of the emotions of the speakers, who, to ring true, had to be shown saying what, in the opinion of the historian, they would have felt in the circumstances. Being the earliest form of historiography among the Arabs, the khabar was naturally integrated into other forms and was rarely found in its original and pure shape. It occurs in other works as well and can be spotted by its vivid style and the insertion of faked or actual conversations.33

Its most developed form was the mono­graph on some single historical event. A well-known historian in this style was 'Ali bin al-Mada'ini (752-830/1351-1417), known only through quotations from his works in other histories. A list of the books written by him is pre­served in al-Fihrist. In the sub-continent of India and Pakistan, perhaps Amir Khusran's Khaza'in al-Futuh furnishes the best example. His Tughluq-­namah, though written in verse, which is not usual with Khabar histories, has many of their characteristics.

It would, however, be a mistake to think of all books written on single reigns as falling into the category of the khabar literature. Its beginnings were, as has been mentioned, religious because it developed out of the desire to collect all the information about the life of the Prophet. The biographies of the narrators of hadith were a by-product. The biographies of religious and political persons followed naturally. Some biographies were written for sec­tarian purposes, for instance, the earlier works on the descendants and sons of the Caliph 'Ali; several biographies of Husain, Zaid bin 'Ali, and others fall in this category. Sometimes biographies were written at the request of a noble or a monarch.

Thabit bin Qurrah wrote a biography of al-Mu'tadid, which was completed by his son Sinan; this was supervised by the patron himself. Shams-i Siraj 'Afif's Tarikh-i Firuzshahi is a typical biography of a monarch; the Sirat-i Firuzshahi partakes of memoirs because it was super­vised by the monarch. Sometimes the biography of a patron was also a record of the author's own times and it is not always easy to draw the line between biography and memoirs. An excellent example is the Nawadir al-Sultaniyyah w-al-Mahasin al- Yusufiyyah, being the biography of Sultan Salak al-Din by ibn Shaddad. It achieves a high standard in depicting the character of the great monarch. Abu al-Fadl's Akbarnameh can be looked upon as a highly successful biography of a remarkable man in spite of the author's obvious endeavor to paint the monarch in as favorable a light as possible.

The success of the book lies in a faithful record of the events of the reign, which find confirmation in other authorities as well. The character of the monarch stands out clearly and in spite of the profusion of the adjectives in praise of Akbar, the panegyrics can be separated quite easily from what is the sub­stance of the narration, because these are introduced as much to deliver formal homilies of praise as to show off the capacity of the author as a master of ornate style. They are not spun into the texture of the narrative in a manner to confuse the reader.

A biography sometimes includes accounts of some of the ancestors of the sub­ject, but their lives occupy a minor place in the book and are introduced more often to trace the exalted line of descent of the main character. Sometimes, how­ever, the biography is extended to include others. In this category would fall the histories of dynasties or families. There are good examples of dynastic histories; the Tarikh al-f~hazdni by Fadl Allah Raid al-Din (d. 718/1318) being a history of Chingiz Khan and his family34 may be cited as one.

Another form of the collected biographies was the tadhkirah. Some of the tadhkirahs dealt with poets, others with Sufis, yet others with scholars, but they all had the common characteristic of being collections of short biographies of a number of persons. As a matter of fact, like other forms of biography, they differed considerably not only in their subject-matter, but also in the standards achieved. The tadhkirahs of poets always incorporated some critical material; the best of these were highly instructive as essays in literary criticism. The tadhkirahs of the Sufis were extremely popular, partly because of the growing popularity of the Sufi silsilahs and the great esteem in which some of the saintly Sufis were held by the populace, and also because of the Muslim tradi­tion of teaching religious truths through the biographies of learned and pious personages.35

This was based on the fundamental Muslim thinking that the best way of understanding Islam was through the study of the life of the Prophet. It was for this reason that biographies of jurists and scholars also were not neglected. Apart from monographs on biographies, it became the fashion to include sections on the biographies of important people in general histories.36 These would include the lives of theologians, Sufis, physicians, poets, and nobles. The disciples of famous Sufis sometimes collected their sayings into maljuzat; these consisted of the more significant utterances of the shaikh with a record of the circumstances in which they were made.37

In a way this may be considered to be a form of the kabar literature; it is, however, different in spirit, because the intention here is not to entertain but to instruct. Some tadhkirahs of the Sufis suffer from the admixture of supernatural fictions with truth. The defect is generally found in books written long after the subject of the tadhkirah had died and legends had grown about his super­natural powers. The writers of the tadhkirahs were seldom guilty of deliber­ately inventing tales; they only uncritically incorporated what they had heard. The tadhkirahs are very valuable because they generally give a picture of the social conditions of an age in which the general histories seldom devoted sufficient space to non-political topics.

The chronological order of the development of Muslim historiography has been transgressed in tracing the growth of the khabar form of historiography. Long before some of the developments narrated above, there had grown the annalistic form, in which the events were grouped around years. The historian took up the years in succession and then narrated the important happenings of each year. This was an excellent device for fixing the chronological sequence of events; and in all probability it gave to history the name of tarikh. It has been mentioned above that the word tarikh seems to have come into use in the pre-Islamic Yaman in the sense of fixing a deed in time; in other words, giving a date to a transaction. The earliest Islamic use is in connection with the establishment of the era of the Hijrah.38

Thus, apart from the narration pure and simple, which was khabar, tarikh was properly the assigning of a date to an event and, conversely, the fixing of an event in time by giving it a definite date. The annalistic form, therefore, seems to have played an important role in giving the name of tarikh to history. The greatest name in this form of history is the well-known Abu Ja'far al­-Tabari, whose famous history was written in the early fourth/tenth century. This is the first history in the annalistic form written by a Muslim that has come down to us. Tabari's greatness is recognized now in all quarters because of his accuracy and great diligence in collecting data and giving them the form of authentic history by sifting evidence, which he must have done to achieve the result.

There are indications that others may have preceded him in using this form; indeed one 'Umarah bin Wathimah has been mentioned to have written a history in the annalistic form in the third/ninth century, but we know very little about the book.39 It is, however, reasonable to believe that Tabari was not the first to use the form, but he is undoubtedly the greatest among those who have used this method both before and after him. The tradition, however, was continued and 'Ali bin Yusuf al-Qifti has mentioned a succession of trustworthy authors beginning with Tabari and ending with the year 616/1219.40 The best example in the Indo-Pakistan sub-continent is the Tarikh-i Alfi composed by a commission appointed by Akbar.

The annalistic form had serious limitations; for this reason it was not imitated on a large scale. It made an absolutely reliable chronology indispensable but where dates could not be determined with absolute certainty it was useless. Besides, this treatment tends to become merely a catalogue of facts in the hands of an unimaginative historian. Even at its best, it leaves little scope for philosophical synthesis or analysis. Even the inclusion of cultural and ad­ministrative data becomes difficult; the tracing of the growth of cultural, social, and administrative institutions is ruled out. The understanding of social or even political processes is not aided by this form of history.

When this form was combined with the idea that the highest expression of objectivity lay in a bare statement of the naked fact unadorned by any illuminating comment or opinion, it became little better than a chronology in tabular form that many historians found useful to append to their works. The sub­sequent arrangement of information in decades, generations (qarun), or cen­turies, may have been derived from annalistic historiography. In any case, the grouping of biographical information in accordance with periods of time seems to have been affected as much by annalist traditions as by other con­siderations like the convenience of grouping people together by the years of their death.

An outgrowth of these forms was the genre of tabaqat. A tabaqah means a layer; it generally refers to a generation. The word Barn meaning a generation preceded the word (tabaqah, but later (tabaqah came to be used more often until works were called by the names of tabaqah. The term was originally applied to different generations of the narrators of Hadith; then it began to be applied more loosely, until it embraced the succeeding generations of all kinds of men. A history which was named by its author as tabaqat was meant to give information about various classes of people; however, the author seldom used the term in this wide sense and, therefore, only the classes that mattered in the opinion of the author were included.

Quite often a tabaqat work could limit itself to a single reign. Some of these are more like tadhkirahs, as, for example, ibn abi Usaibi'ah's history of physicians or abu Ishaq al­-Shirazi's history of the jurists. Tadhkirahs and tabaqat of this nature alike gradually adopted an alphabetical arrangement to make reference easy, so that some of them came to be biographical dictionaries, often concise and limited to the barest facts. There were notable exceptions and, as has been mentioned earlier, many books dealing with poets incorporated critical reviews of their main works.

The Muslim historians developed many useful mechanical techniques. They were not averse to putting statistical and other factual information in the form of tables.41 They appended in many places their authority for a state­ment.42 Indeed, with the more careful historians, the sources of their informa­tion are almost invariably revealed. They attached bibliographies to their works, utilized official documents and correspondence, and when they thought that it was necessary to do so, they quoted the document verbatim. Conse­quently, some important documents have thus been preserved for us.43 They utilized all official material that was available to them including the more important decisions of the courts. The Muslim governments kept good records; the courts also had records of all the cases that came before them. The his­torians, therefore, had no dearth of official material and they used it whenever they found it relevant to their subject. They were aware of the importance of numismatic and epigraphical evidence and used both frequently.

It has been mentioned that the Muslims look upon themselves as a world community. Muhammad as a successor to all the prophets of the world came to fulfil the missions of all of them. The history of the world was, therefore, a matter of vital concern to the Muslims. A fairly large number of histories were, therefore, planned as world histories. The knowledge about the history of the non-Muslim world was fragmentary and depended upon the accuracy of the local tradition which was not reliable in most instances.

There were large regions which had no history; it is, therefore, obvious that the Muslim histories could not be perfect in the recording of the events of other regions or of the past of the regions where Islam had domination. The science of archaeology had not been developed; the methods of deciphering dead languages had not been invented. Because of these factors some non-Muslim pretenders to knowledge practiced curious frauds upon Muslim rulers and Muslim scholars.44 History based on traditions and legends cannot be satisfactory; hence we find that the Muslim accounts of the ancient history of Mesopotamia or of Egypt are unreliable and fragmentary. The knowledge of the Arabs grew as their geographers succeeded in accumulating knowledge. Yaqut bin 'Abd Allah al-Hamawi's geographical dictionary, Mu'jam al-Buldan, seldom fails to incorporate biographical material of the people of note belonging to a locality. 'Ali ibn al-Husain al-Masudi is the best example of the interaction of geographical and historical knowledge; indeed, he combines the two disciplines in a remarkable manner. Today the works of the Arab geographers form a good source of history and are indispensable; even to their contemporary historians they were of extreme importance.

So far as the world of Islam was concerned, it was a real entity. In the earlier period before the rise of the 'Abbasids split the Muslim world into the East and the West, it formed a single polity. Juristically and theologically, the indivisibility of the Muslim world is an axiom, based as it is upon the Qur'anic doctrine of the brotherhood of all Muslims and upon the implied uni­versalism in the conception of the unity of the Muslim community. It is, therefore, a matter of no surprise that it seemed only natural to the Muslim historians that they should look upon the whole of Muslim history as a single entity. Some of the works, thus, became huge compendiums because they had to treat the various regions and States which in spite of the theory came to have separate histories. With the weakening of the 'Abbasid Caliphate, it remained no easy matter to treat the entire Muslim world in one work. The most outstanding work that achieved great success in this respect is ibn Athir's Kamil fi al-Tarikh. It maintains its balance despite the length of the period which it covers and the large number of countries that it deals with. Despite its annalistic arrangement, it is not devoid of philosophical reflections on the happenings of some importance.

However, this trend of writing universal histories could not last long. For one thing, the distances were enormous and it was not easy to keep an eye on the happenings of so many corners of the Muslim world. Ibn Air himself complains; “A man sitting in Mosul cannot but miss some events happening in the remote corners of the East and the West.”45 It must be remembered that ibn Athir was more successful than anyone else. Broken into numerous independent States, even though most of these continued to owe allegiance to nominal Caliphs, the Muslim world could not, despite the doctrine of the unity of the Muslim world, ignore its division. It entered the domain of religious thinking as well and there grew up proponents of legally sovereign States, every monarch exercising the functions of the Caliphate within his own dominions and enjoying the prestige of being the Caliph in his territories. The Moghul Emperors of the Indo-Pakistan sub-continent were an outstanding but not the only example of the dynasties that accepted this theory of divided Caliphate. Even before, there had been written dynastic and local histories, but gradually the new trends brought to an end the tradition of universal histories of the Muslim world. The intermediate stage was that of the historian who would begin with the beginnings of the Islamic history and then trace the developments in the area about which he was writing, thinking that the Islamic traditions in his own land were a continuation of the history of Islam. Abu 'Umar Minhaj al-Din 'Uthman bin Siraj al-Din al-Juzjani's Tabaqati-i Nasiri is a good example. The dynastic and local histories have already been discussed.

The connection between political science and history was generally under­stood by the historians. As a matter of fact, the knowledge of history was considered essential to the work of statecraft. 46The policies pursued by previous monarchs were put forward as object lessons to illustrate the con­sequences of foolish as well as wise methods. For this reason many authors included a good deal of information about administrative measures in their books and summed up their success or failure. In the sub-continent of India and Pakistan a considerable amount of space was devoted to the administrative reforms undertaken by the rulers. Diya' al-Din Barani's Tarikh-i Firuzshahi; Shams-i Siraj 'Afif's Tarikh-i Firuzshahi, the Sirat-i Firuzshahi, and the Futu­hat-i Firuzshahi.'Abd al-Qadir Badayuni's Muntakhabat al- Tawarikh;'Abd al­-Hamid Lahori's Padishahnameh; 'Ali Muhammad Khan's Mir'at-i Ahmadi, to name but a few, are replete with this kind of information.

The most out­standing work, however, is abu al-Fadl's Akbarnameh, of which the A'in-i Akbari is intended to be an appendix. But what an appendix it is! It is a virtual gazette of the Moghul Empire and contains so much economic and administrative data that scholars have not yet been able to utilize them fully. The administrative institutions, the policies of the State, the divisions of the population, the agricultural produce of the various areas, the crafts and industries in the different parts of the Empire, and a host of other matters have been recorded. In addition, a considerable amount of cultural material is included. Compared to al-Biruni's Kitab al-Hind, there is no medieval book that gives such a sympathetic account of the Hindu faith and philosophy.

The incorporation of the accounts of alien faiths and cultures is an old Muslim tradition of Muslim historiography. The great geographers seldom mentioned an area without giving some account of the religious beliefs and social customs of its inhabitants. For the non-Muslim times, whenever, for want of historical information of a political nature, the Muslim historian felt at a loss to collect much data, he fell back upon the knowledge of the culture of the people.47 The histories quite often incorporate large sections of the biographies of men noted in some fields of culture.

Abu al-Fadl's data are mainly based upon al-Biruni so far as Hinduism is concerned, but his book also contains his own observations and research. In view of the immediate sources of knowledge available to him and because of his voracious thirst for knowledge, it is unlikely that he did not check all that al-Biruni had said, especially when the Emperor himself was taking so great an interest in Hinduism and abu al-Fadl was his constant consultant. The fact that abu al-Fadl had so little reason to differ shows how well al-Biruni had dealt with the subject.

The fact that history had a deep relationship with statecraft was recognized by the monarch’s themselves.48 The Caliph Mu'awiyah is reported to have spent some time regularly every night in the study of history; the narrator of this story gives details that show that the Caliph devoted this time to the study of mundane and secular history.49 These examples can be multiplied ad infinitum. Harun al-Rashid, the Moghul Emperors of India, the Iranian rulers, indeed, monarchs of practically every part of the Muslim world and in every age attached the greatest importance to the study of history. Gradually, a literature grew up that emphasized only those aspects of history that had some direct relevance to statecraft. Sadid al-Din Muham­mad al-'Aufi's Jawami' al-Hikayat wa Lawami' al-Riwayat contains selections of historical stories and information that illustrate some principles of politics or administration.

This kind of literature gave place to treatises on adminis­trative matters pure and simple and on politics and statecraft. Even the latter were replete with historical anecdotes. Some were written by men of administrative experience like 'Unsur al-Ma'ali Kaika'us bin Sikandar bin Qabus' Qabusnameh or Nizam al-Mulk Tfisi's Siyasatnameh; others were written by professional historians like Diya' al-Din Barani-Fatawa-i Jahdandari; yet others by saintly Sufis who were interested in securing the welfare of the people through the instruction of monarchs. In this last category falls the Dhakhirat al-Muluk by Sayyid 'Ali bin Shihab Hamadani. The great Ghazali also has a treatise of this nature in his Nasa'ih al-Muluk. Some were written by obscure writers and to give importance to their works, they ascribed them to well-known historical characters, as the Tauqi'at-i Kisra is ascribed to Nushirwan and the Wasaya-i Nizam al-Mulk to the statesman whose name it bears.

History today is related to sociology and endeavors to find the relation­ship between economic, social, and political factors and course of events. Indeed, history is no longer a mere recording of facts; it seeks to understand the significance of these facts as agents in fashioning the social and political fabric; it explores the impact of the past on the present in a more vital and deeper sense. It would be idle to expect the developments of the fourteenth/twentieth century in classical Muslim historiography because a good many of the sciences that are so important in understanding the full significance of historical processes had not developed until recently. For instance, the science of economics has made such rapid strides that it can hardly be recognized to be in the least related to the medieval economic thinking.

Economic relations were neither so widespread nor were they so complex in a world where rapid means of transport were not known and the impact of world forces was not felt so quickly as in the world of today. Yet the Muslim historians were not unaware of these considerations. It is a truism to repeat that ibn Khaldin's contribution in connecting history with sociology has been outstanding. He has been highly praised by modern authors and he has richly deserved this praise. “In the Prolegomena (Muqaddimah) to his Universal History (Kitab al-'Ibar) he has conceived and formulated a philosophy of history which is undoubtedly the greatest work of its kind that has ever been created by any mind in any time or place.”50 “Ibn Khaldin was a historian, politician, sociologist, economist, a deep student of human affairs, anxious to analyze the past of mankind in order to understand its present and future.51

Ibn Khaldin (732-808/1332-1406), considered simply as an historian, had superiors even among Arabic authors, but as a theorist on history he had no equal in any age or country until Vico appeared, more than three hundred years later.”52 So far as ibn Khaldin's own position and contribution are concerned, it would suffice here to give these quotations, because a fuller discussion of his work is given in Chapters XLVI and XLIX of this work. It is true that ibn Khaldin had no peers in the world of Islam, but it is not correct as has become fashionable to assert that he had neither predecessors nor successors in what he set himself to do.

Muslim historians do, in their search for causes, go into fields that are not merely political and search out causes that are not discernible on the surface. The Muslim writers had tried to understand the working of economic laws and were conversant with the Greek works on the subject.53 The writers on revenue in particular brought in economics and sound finance within the scope of their work.54 Of these perhaps Qudamah bin Ja'far deserves special mention, who in one of his chapters presents a systematic discussion of political and social sciences.55 He enters into fundamental considerations regarding the social and economic needs of human beings and the steps taken to meet them. Observations on political, economic, and social factors are found scattered throughout the books of ethics, politics, and history.

In the Indo-­Pakistan sub-continent, abu al-Fall among others has brought in questions of economics and social organization while commenting upon administrative measures. The most outstanding example is Shah Wall Allah, who based his philosophy on economic and social foundations.56

Being confronted with the problem of the decline of the Muslim political power in the sub-continent of India and Pakistan, he analysed the forces at work to diagnose the disease from which the polity as well as the society suffered at that time and came out with his suggestions for curing their ills, in doing which he explored a wide range of economics, sociology, history, and politics. He examined the relations subsisting between the producers and consumers and laid down the dictum that in a balanced society everyone must contribute to its welfare. Then he pointed out how some sections of the society had become parasites and, thus, had upset the balance. This kind of analysis runs right through his discussions, whether he is discussing social conditions or examining political and economic ills. He has a historical mind because he brings in the examples of the great civilizations that had preceded Islam and draws relevant con­clusions from their fate.

In conclusion one may say that history has been a favorite discipline with the Muslims. They brought the highest standards of objectivity into their writings; they showed great enthusiasm for the discovery of true facts; they produced a vast literature of considerable merit at a time when even among the civilized peoples there was not much flair for historiography; indeed, there were cultures of a highly developed nature that had no place

Jurisprudence in their learning for historiography. At such a time the Muslims established standards which have not always been improved upon in the modern world. For instance, contemporary nations have to learn a good deal in standards of objectivity and in distinguishing between national glorification and history. The Muslims were able to expand the scope of history from mere recording of facts into a repository of political, administrative, and cultural experiences and made fruitful essays into the analytical field as well. They failed like the political thinkers of Islam in suggesting the evolution of institutions that would have enabled greater and more responsible participation of the people in the affairs of the State, but they did help in making the Islamic govern­ments beneficent and benevolent at a time when other governments tended to be arbitrary and even tyrannical.

Bibliography

Al-Biruni, Chronology of Ancient Nations, ed. and tr. E. Sachau, London, 1879; abu al-Faraj, Tarikh Mukhtasar al-Duwal, ed. Salhnni, Beyrouth, 1890; E. Lacoire, Table de Concordance des dates des Calendriers arabe, Copte, gregorien, israilite, etc., Paris, 1891; Franz Rosenthal, A History of Muslim Historiography, Leiden, 1952; Firdausi, Shahnameh; Muhammad bin 'Abd al-Ralpnan Sakhawi, al-I'lan bi al-Taubik_h li man Dhamma Ahl al-Tarikh, trans. into English by Rosen­thal; al-Khatib Baghhdadi, Kifayah, Hyderabad, 1357/1938; Diya' al-Din Barani, Tarik-i Firuzs_hahi, Calcutta, 1860-62; Badayuni, Muntakhab al-Tawarikh; abu al-Fall, .91n-i Akbari; Sajazi, Fawa'id al-Fuwad; 'Abd al-Rahman bin 'Ali at­Jauzi, Muntazam, Hyderabad, 1357-58/1938-39; 'Ali bin Yasuf al-Qifti, Tarikh al-Hukama', ed. A. Muller and J. Lippert, Leipzig, 1903; Baihaqi, Tarikh-i Baihaqi; ibn Ateir, Kamil ft al-Tarikh, Cairo, 1301/1883; al-Mas'udi, Muraj al-phhahab, Cairo, 1346/1927; C. Issawi, An Arab Philosophy of History, London, 1950; Muham­mad bin Sulaiman, al-Mukhtasar fi 'Ilm al-Tarikh, English transl. by Rosenthal.

Notes

1. I C. Broekelmann, Geschichte der arabischen Litteratur, 2 Vols., Weimar,1898 ; Berlin,1902 ; ibid., Supplementbande, 3 Vols., Leiden,1937 -42; C. A. Storey, Persian Literature, A Biobibliographical Survey, London,1935 -59; F. Babinger, Die Ge8chithtsschreiber der Osmanen and Are Werke, Leipzig,1927 (gives good surveys of the literature discussed in this chapter). Details of the works mentioned here have not been given because they are available in these surveys.

2. Franz Rosenthal, a History of Muslim Historiography, Leiden,1952 , p. 16.

3. e A. Jaussen and R. Savignac, Mission Archeologique en Arabia, Vol. II, Paris,1909 -14, Minaen Inscription No. 32.

4. Rosenthal, op. cit., p. 66, n. 5.

5. The main argument in favor of Byzantine influence is that some historical works written before the known Muslim histories show a similarity in arrangement. The annalistic arrangement, thus, could have been taken over from the Byzantines. On the other hand, the annalistic form could be a natural development. The argument against the acceptance of the view that the Byzantines had any influence is that the Muslim historians do not mention Byzantine authors, in spite of the fact that they were fond of mentioning their sources of information.

6. The work that has come down through an Arabic translation is Khuatainamak, which can hardly be called a history. Other sources of Iranian history were translated into Arabic towards the second quarter of the eighth century A.D. None of these was considered important enough to be preserved in spite of the Iranian tendency to glorify their past. Firdausi's dhah Ndmeh written in the fourth/tenth century depended upon legend rather than history. If there had been any sober history available at that time, more of it would have entered the poem.

7. This is inherent in the Muslim belief, based upon the Qur'an, v, 48; vii, 30, etc.

8. Ibid. v; 68ff etc.

9. Ibid. xxxii, 40, where the Prophet has been called “the seal of the prophets.” The seal comes at the end of an epistle. There is also a hadith which says, “There shall be no prophet after me.”

10. Qur'an, e.g., vi, 6; x, 70ff.; xi, 25ff.; xix, 74; xxix, 20ff.; xxx, 9, 42-47; xxxv, 44, 45, etc., etc.

11. Ibid., iii, 104

12. Ibid. iii, 110.

13. Ibid., xi, 100

14. 14 Ibid. VI, 25; viii, 31; xvi, 24, etc., etc.

The Qur'an uses the word “aadtir” which has generally been considered to mean stories, because of its resemblance to the Greek word historia (Golius, Lexicon Arabico-Latinum, Leiden,1653 , column1171 ), but this seems to have little sub: stance in fact, except for the coincidental resemblance. Several European authors have followed Golius, but opinion has now changed. Indeed, the Arabs should have been the first to notice the resemblance and to use the word in the sense of history if there were any substance in this identification. It is more likely that the word has been derived from satar (to write); hence asdtir should mean a record. They certainly do not seem to imply that the Prophet was reciting to them merely fables.

15. This is obvious from the references to communities like 'Ad, Thamnd, etc., vide note 10; also Qur'an, xiii, 30; xiv, 36.

16. Many religious thinkers in Islam refer to the Jewish legends adopted by some mufassirin as Isra'iliyat and disapprove of their use.

17. Muhammad bin 'Abd al-Rahman al•Sakhawi, al-Flan bi al-Taubik li man Mamma AN at-Tarikh, translated into English by Rosenthal, op. cit., pp. 246, 247, 263.

18. 18 Muhanunad bin Sulaiman al•Kafiyaji, al-Muk_htarar T 'Itm al•Tdrik_h, selected passages translated into English by Rosenthal, op. cit., pp. 189, 190; al-Sakhawi, op. cit., pp. 205ff.

19. Qur'an, VI, 116; the corruption of previous Scriptures finds mention also at other places, e.g., v, 13.

20. Al-Sakhawi, op. cit., pp. 259, 261.

21. Ibid., p. 299.

22. Ibid., p. 264.

23. Al-Khatib al-Baghdadi, Kifayah, Hyderabad,1357 /1938 , pp. 39ff.; also, al­Bukhari, Sahih, iv, 121, 126, 142 (Krehl).

24. E.g. Diya' al-Din Barani, Tarikh-i Fireczshahi, Calcutta,1860 -62, pp. 16, 17.

25. Jalal al-Din Muhammad Akbar (1556 -1605 ), third in the line of succession among the Moghul Emperors of India.

26. His subtle insinuations have, through faulty translation, caused grave mis­understandings among European writers like Vincent Smith.

27. E.g. passages quoted in Sources of Indian Tradition, ed. William Theo­dore de Bary, Columbia University Press, New York, pp. 527, 528, show quite clearly that the authors do not intend the readers to take all their adjectives seriously. Akbar was certainly not “the ruler of the world and of all who inhabit it” nor the “origin of the canons of world-government” and “author of universal conquest.”

28. E.g. passages quoted in Sources of Indian Tradition, ed. William Theo¬dore de Bary, Columbia University Press, New York, pp. 527, 528, show quite clearly that the authors do not intend the readers to take all their adjectives seriously. Akbar was certainly not “the ruler of the world and of all who inhabit it” nor the “origin of the canons of world-government” and “author of universal conquest.”

29. O. Lofgren, Arabische Texte zur Kenntnis der Stadt Aden im iliittelalter, LJpsala,1936 , II, pp. 20, 43-47.

30. Barani, op. cit., pp. 16, 17.

31. “Exodus,” xiv, 30; “Samuel,” I, xvii.

32. Some scholars are of the opinion that no written prose literature existed in pre-Islamic Arabia, e.g., William Marcais, “Les Origins de la prose litteraire arabe,” Revue Africaine, LXVIII,1929 , pp. 15-18.

33. A good example is Sultan `Ala' al-Din Khalji's conversation with Qadi Mughith, reported by Barani, op. cit., pp. 293-97.

34. Many of the histories written in the Indo-Pakistan sub-continent do not fall into the category of dynastic histories. They generally take up certain periods of Muslim rule or of a dynasty, but few works are devoted entirely to a dynasty.

35. E.g., Sheftah's Gulshan-i Be-khar, Azad's Ab-i Hayat, and Shibli's ini`r at­'Ajam

36. E.g., Badayiuni in his Muntakhab al-Tawarikh, Abu al-Fadl in his A'in-i Akbari, etc.

37. E.g., Hasan'Ali Sajzi's Fawa'id at-Fuwad.

38. Al-Sakhawi, op. cit., p. 310; al-Kafiyaji, op. cit., p. 183.

39. 'Abd al-Rahman bin 'Ali al-Jauzi, Muntazam, Hyderabad,1357 -58/1938 -39, p. 37.

40. 'Ali bin Y6sufal-Qif¢i, Tarik_hat-Hukama', ed. A.Muller and J. Lippert, Leipzig, pp. 110ff.

41. A'in-i Akbari abounds in such tables; Barani gives tables of the names of officers in each reign, etc.

42. This was derived from the way ahadith were narrated: “A heard from B who heard from C who heard from D that the Prophet said…..”

43. Some examples are: Baihaqi in Tarikb-i Baihaqi has preserved the oath of allegiance taken by Mas'ud of Ghaznin to the Caliph; Badayani has preserved the text of the mahdar recognizing Akbar's authority to choose an interpretation where the doctors of law disagreed; abu al-Fadl has preserved the letter Akbar wrote to 'Abd Allah Khan Uzbek of Transoxiana, etc.

44. When Asoka's pillar was brought by Firuz Shah from Meerut and erected at Delhi, the Hindu pundits who do not seem to have known Pali said that the inscription on it prophesied the great success of Firuz hah as a ruler; also cf. Rosen­thal, op. cit., p. 111.

45. Ibn Aqir, Kamil f al.Tarikh, Cairo,1301 /1883 , I, p. 3.

46. This was the reason why historical studies formed an essential part of a prince's education, e.g., Sinan bin Thabit bin Qurrah quoted by ibn al-'Adam, Bugjhyat al-Talab, Cairo, MS. Tarikh,1566 , I, p. 137; ibn Hamdun, Tadhkirah, Bodleian MS. (Ar.) Marsh 316 part 3, 80b, etc., etc.

47. The reason has been given by al-Tha'libi, Qhurar, Paris, MS. (Ar.)1488 , f. 247a, where he says, “The narration of these matters is like reporting about their kings, because people follow the religion of their kings, especially the Indians who immolate themselves for the glory of their kings and some of them even wor­ship their kings.” The author has explained earlier that historical data regarding India are difficult to obtain.

48. Ibn Hamdun, op. cit., says, “Genealogy, history, and elements of jurisprudence, are royal sciences.” Compare Yaqut, Irshad, Cairo, I, p. 27, who says, “the know­ledge of genealogy and history belong to the sciences of kings ....” bah Jahan made a habit of listening to history every evening ('Abd al-Hamid Lahori, Padishah­nameh, Bib. Indic&, Calcutta, I, p. 153).

49. Al-Mas'udi, Murdj al-Dhahab, Cairo,1346 /1927 , II, p. 72.

50. Charles Issawi, An Arab Philosophy of History, London,1950 , p. x, quoting Arnold J. Toynbee.

51. Idem, pp. x, xi, quoting George Sarton.

52. Ibid. p. xi, quoting Robert Flint.

53. M. Plessner, Der ouxovouir.6S des Neupythagoreers “Bryson” and sein Einfluss auf die islamische Wissenschaft, Heidelberg,1928 , Orient and Antike, Vol. V.

54. The various books on Kharaj and the A'in-i Akbari of abu al-Fadl are good examples.

55. Rosenthal, op. cit., pp. 462-63, gives a table of contents.

56. Such material is found in several of his books, especially Hujjat Allah al. Balighah; an Urdu translation is available, Lahore,1953 .

Chapter 60: Historiography

The debt that history owes to the efforts of Muslim writers is generally recognized by Orientalists, but the consciousness of the value and significance of the Muslim contribution is rare among Western historians. Every known sizable collection of Islamic manuscripts includes a good proportion of historical works1 which in itself is a fair indication of the importance attached by Muslim scholarship to history. A comparison between the outputs of historical literature by the Muslims before decay set in and the Islamic civilization began to decline and the histories written during or before that period by other peoples will show what great interest was taken by the followers of Islam in history. A similar comparison in the standards achieved will be equally illuminating. It would be no exaggeration to say that in the Middle Ages, history was very much a Muslim science. Their contribution is even more remarkable in view of the fact that the Muslims had inherited very meagre traditions on which they raised so glorious an edifice.

For several decades the Orientalists were not impressed with the Muslim traditions regarding the magnitude of ignorance in pre-Islamic Arabia. They saw in them an endeavor to exaggerate the achievement of Islam by belittling pre-Islamic Arab effort; even the silence of Muslim writers was suspect. Partly for this reason and partly with the desire to belittle the success of Islam in uplifting the Arabs, the Orientalists made strenuous efforts to find proofs of pre-Muslim attainments, but they did not discover much. In the words of a recent authority, “the cultural and economic level of the nomad population was, as it has always been, too low to support any literary effort.2 The Arabs did produce some poetry, a fact mentioned and recognized by Muslim authorities, but they had little conception of other branches of lite­rature. They do not seem even to have a word for history. Some of the earlier writers have used the term akhbdr for history; the singular form, khabar, is used even today for a report or information.

This has been the meaning of the word in Muslim times; the earlier meaning of this word is obscure. As the name implies, akhbdr is generally understood to mean a string, a collec­tion, or, at best, a connected sequence of reports, and only in the last form does it achieve the form of a historical narration of events. The origin of the word tdrikh, which is now generally used for history, is even more difficult to trace. Its root form perhaps came to be used in the Yaman in the pre­Islamic days, but, in all probability, it referred to time, not to history.3 This significance of the word has not yet been lost; indeed, the word tdrikh is used more often in the meaning of a date than of history.

It is obvious that with­out even a proper word for it, the Arabs could have little conception of history before the advent of Islam. They had a few stories of what they had considered to have been important or interesting events and vague, probably untrue, legends of the peoples who had inhabited the old ruins that were scattered in some parts of the peninsula. They lacked even a proper epic; indeed, they were a people with no consciousness of history. The Muslims, therefore, could not have drawn any inspiration for the development of a tradition of historiography from the pre-Islamic Arabs.

The Greek sciences made a most significant contribution to Islamic culture, but in the field of history, the Greek influence is difficult to trace. No classical Greek history ever reached the Arabs; the Greek and the Latin annalistic literature has been lost and is not available even to the modem scholar.4 History, however, was a much less important sector of Greek and Latin scholar­ ship; it was not considered of sufficient merit to be included in the curriculum of regular studies. The Muslims adopted the branches of learning that were considered to possess sufficient importance in the eyes of the Greeks themselves; the Greek tradition was kept alive in these subjects. One of the reasons for the loss of classical Greek historical literature may be the fact that the Arabs showed no interest in its preservation.

The Byzantines had traditions of historiography and it is not beyond the range of possibility that some of their works came into the hands of the Arabs through Syrian Christians and converts to Islam. They might have contributed some techniques, but these techniques could not have been important.5 In any case, the Arabs could not have derived their historical sense from the Byzantines.

The other two great civilizations with which the Arabs came into close contact were those of the Iranians and the Hindus. The Hindus never de­veloped an interest in history. There is little indication of the Iranians possessing any notable historical literature at the time of the Muslim conquest.6

It is, therefore, more likely that the Arabs developed a sense of history as a result of the Prophet Muhammad's mission. Indeed, all indications point in this direction; hence they need exploration. It should be remembered that Islam itself claims to work in the context of history. It fulfils the previous missions of the prophets who had come before Muhammad.7 It seeks to abrogate the excrescences that came to disfigure truth in the course of time, because the generations that had gone before had failed to preserve the earlier revelations.8 Prophets had come in various societies at different times and had preached the same essential truth, but there had grown up errors and misunderstandings, some deliberate and perverse and others as the result of folly, and divine revelation had become clouded. Now this basic belief shows a consciousness of history. It is concerned with the past, the present, and even the future.

The future comes in because Muhammad being the last of the prophets9 and the bearer of a message of transcendent impor­tance, his mission will remain effective throughout the future. This conception of religion is not concerned with the present only. It does not look upon the present as merely transient, nor upon the past as the sum total of merely so many transient and insignificant presents. This is borne out by the fact that the Qur'an draws attention repeatedly to the misdeeds of previous peoples and their destruction as the result of these misdoings.10 The warning is implicit in the narrative itself, but it is also given explicitly on many oc­casions. If the past produced all those disastrous results, or if, conversely, virtuous deeds in the past were fruitful in producing good results, there is a relationship between the past, the present, and the future which is significant in fashioning human life. History, in this manner, achieves great importance in understanding life.

There is another aspect of Islam that has an important bearing upon history. Muhammad has 4 unique place in history. According to the Muslim belief, Muhammad stands, as if it were, on the watershed of time. The pro­gress that had been vouchsafed to humanity before him was to find fulfilment in his mission. The previous messages were limited to particular peoples and their environments and conditions. They had the special circumstances of these people in view; hence they had contained, in addition to an emphasis upon the universal nature of the absolute values, certain teachings that were valid only in the circumstances in which they were revealed.

The succession of the previous prophets had worked for the completion of religious belief, for a perfection in the unveiling of the great truths, and for giving humanity the essence of religious truth, untrammeled by the need to circumscribe it by a consideration of the transient environment. Muhammad, thus, represents the culmination of one divine plan and the beginning of another. The first plan was designed to meet the differing needs of various segments of the human race, the second plan for the entire humanity. The very pattern of religious progress changes after Muhammad, because now there is a universal message to follow, the essence indeed of all that has gone before.

With this belief about the position of the Prophet in time, it was natural that the Muslims should cultivate the historic sense. Christianity also believes in a divine plan of history; indeed, the Church, encouraged by the power and expansion of the Christian nations, came to believe strongly that it was the will of God that Christianity should prosper in the world and in this manner the Kingdom of God should be ultimately established on earth. Only recently with the growth of communist States has this belief somewhat weakened. However, even when the Church held a strong conviction regarding the ultimate triumph of Christianity and looked upon history as the gradual revelation of the divine plan, its conception of the importance of the unfolding of the historical processes was not the same as that of the Muslims.

According to the Christian dogma, Christ is the man-god; he did come at a particular time in history, but that time has no special significance because, as God, Christ is eternal, timeless, and infinite. Only for the time that he was in this world, did he put upon himself the limitations of a finite human existence. He came to redeem the world and he did it by paying for it with his own life. In a sense this redemption is the culmination of religious evolution. It was for this reason that the earlier Christians saw in every disaster the approach of the end of the world. Having been redeemed, the world had achieved the goal; there was nothing beyond it. The further unfolding of history was irrelevant.

The Muslim position was basically different. The Qur'an enjoined that there should be a body among the Muslims dedicated to the task of preaching the truth11 ; indeed, the Muslims themselves were to form a nation to invite others to accept the truth and to set an example for the world.12 Muhammad was the last of the prophets, but his mission was to be carried on by the learned among his people. It was for this reason that he had said that these learned people were to be like the prophets of Israel; in other words, what had hitherto been achieved through a succession of prophets was to be accomplished through the agency of learned men.

This sharp contrast between the destiny of Islam and the earlier religions was bound to set people thinking about the elements responsible for this change in the divine plan. How had the world changed to need a new dispen­sation so radically different, in its purpose from what had gone before? This question was even more pertinent since it was not the nature of the truth that had changed; for did not Islam claim to be all revealed truth, whether it had come before Muhammad or through him? And what was the truth that had come before? How far did it conform to the message of the Qur'an?

How much of the truth claimed by the previous religions was interpolation, and how much of it incidental to the circumstances of those days and the peoples who; had been its recipients? These were the questions that arose natu­rally, and all of them are either directly historical or have historical overtones. They were rooted not only in natural curiosity, but, as we shall see later, also in theology itself.

In its exhortations for belief and righteousness, the Qur'an does not depend entirely upon appeal to emotions. It argues and appeals to reason at innumer­able places. Phenomena of nature, legends contained in older Scriptures, the impact of ruined cities and buildings upon the imagination of a sensitive people, and historical events are all pressed into service. Indeed, there are considerable historical data in the Qur'an.13 The inclusion of these allusions in large num­bers led the critics of the Prophet to question the relevance of human experience in the past. They dismissed them as being merely the records of peoples who had gone before.14 The unbelievers implied that what had happened in the past was of little importance to them. They certainly did not believe that history had any lessons for them.

The Qur'an, on the other hand, considers the experience of the past generations and of other peoples to be of vital importance. The underlying argument is that similar actions and circum­stances produce similar results. The Qur'an thus lays down one of the first principles that guided the Muslims in their study of history. They wanted to learn from the experience of others. Besides, human activity is not an isolated phenomenon; it is linked with the past as much as with the future. Being implicit in the very conception of Muhammad as one of the prophets and the last of them, it found confirmation in the insistence of the Qur'an on the importance of historical phenomena in the determination of right and wrong.

If any human action has brought disaster, that action could not be right except as the vindication of the principle of righteousness itself. And in judging the results of human activity, the Qur'an does not take into consideration the individual. It is the sum total of communal activity which cannot be right if it produces disasters.15

A good man working for the common good in a bad community may suffer, but he has his other rewards. A bad man in a good community may not suffer, but he has his other punishments. This is the reason why prophets and martyrs seemingly failed in bad communities which hurled themselves into disasters; from a purely worldly point of view they even suffered grievously, but actually they were saved and the evil-doers really suffered. And in the stories of the bad communities and the suffering prophets, there is another implication. The good that the prophets had sought to achieve might not have been established in their own times or communities but it ultimately did prevail, and this shows a continuity of the historical process in which righteousness ultimately wins.

Apart from their moral and philosophical implications, which helped in creating a historical sense in the Muslims, the historical allusions in the Qur'an presented a challenge to the Muslim mind. The Muslims wanted to learn more about them, and thus began a search for more detailed information. It is true that with their limited resources and the condition of human knowledge in their days, the information collected by the early Muslims was not always accurate. Considerable legendary material, folklore, and mythology entered into their understanding of the historical facts mentioned in the Qur’an. A fertile source of legendary material was the Jewish tradition. The net gain was that historical curiosity had been aroused. Some of the earlier mistakes were never corrected, but others were discarded when critical faculties got sharpened by greater experience and knowledge.16

There was yet another aspect of religion that directly led to the cultivation of history. Muhammad is a historical figure; he lived in the limelight of history. His biography has always been considered to be a cornerstone of Muslim theology17 and, therefore, the events of his life were eagerly sought and col­lected. So long as his immediate disciples and Companions were alive, this was a simple matter, but as time elapsed, it was considered increasingly neces­sary to collect all information about him. Where the believers could not find clear guidance from the Qur'an, or where there was dispute in the interpreta­tion of its text, the best authority could be the Prophet's actions and sayings.

Thus, there grew up the tradition of collecting the ahadith, and after some time when the original narrators had died and there had intervened several genera­tions so that for every hadith there were several narrators in succession, it was necessary to submit the reports to searching criticism. The scholars deve­loped canons of criticism that have not only endured but have earned the respect of the succeeding generations for their soundness18

Modern scholar­ship can find fault with some of the traditions that have been judged to be sound, but the canons of criticism and of testing the validity of reports are trustworthy even today. This was no mean achievement and shows not only a keen sense of responsibility but also a high perception of the criteria which should be applied to any narration. After all this is the kernel of all methods of historical research.

A by-product of this search was the compilation of working biographies of all the better known narrators. In this process those considered unreliable were branded as such. The biographers made the most careful and impartial scrutiny, and if they found any trace of deceit or even a charge of lying in any respect, they exposed the narrator so that the traditions, in the chain of the narrators in which he appeared, might at least be treated with extreme caution. As it was a theological and religious matter and concerned the beliefs of all Muslims, the critics developed the highest sense of intellectual honesty. Despite these efforts and precautions, some unreliable traditions have found their way into the “authentic collections,” but when it is remembered that the collectors discarded many more traditions than were considered sufficiently sound to be accepted, it would be clear how well the criteria were applied.

A remarkable testimony to the historical sense of the Muslims is their suc­cess in preserving the text of the Qur'an. It really arose from two of the teachings of the Book itself. The first of these is the doctrine of the corruption of the previous Scriptures through changes or interpolations. The other is the promise that the Qur'an shall be preserved.19 According to the Muslim belief, the corruption of the previous Scriptures resulted in the misguidance of the people to the extent that the shape of the original faith was changed beyond recognition. The Muslims had been given the Qur'an, which they were to cherish and preserve in the original form. They believe in the verbal sanctity of the Qur'an. This led them to preserve the text. Taking into consideration the differences in languages in the Muslim world and the rise of various sects in Islam, this is quite an achievement. The preservation of the text of the Qur'an could not but have engendered a respect for the texts of documents of any importance.

It would be seen from this discussion that historiography in the Muslim world had religious beginnings. It was religion that gave the Muslims their historical sense, and the requirements of developing a theology made it imperative for the Muslim theologians to undertake historical research and to lay down canons of evaluating historical data for eliminating doubt and error so far as it was humanly possible. It led them to explore the tradi­tions of religions allied to their own which had preceded the mission of the Prophet in point of time. Indeed, historical studies started in Islam as a necessary adjunct of theological development20 . It was necessary, therefore, for the Muslims to cultivate a religious attitude towards history, which could not be discarded easily. Indeed, even when history ventured out into the courts of worldly monarchs, it was not able to overcome some of the con­ceptions developed in the cloisters of the mosques and the colleges of theology.

The theologians looked upon their work as an act of worship; hence it was to be approached with the utmost sincerity. In such work all merit was lost if any selfish motives were permitted to interfere with its objectivity. The scholar considered himself to be accountable to God for every fact that he reported or any opinion that he expressed.21 Indeed in the beginning he was doubtful whether he was justified in expressing an adverse opinion about anyone.22 However, he was strengthened by the Prophet's example of not hesitating from censuring a person in the public interest, or from expressing an opinion that would save others from trouble and hardship.23

In the reporting of facts and the expression of opinions, therefore, the writer felt himself bound by the ethics of a witness or a judge. He would not report anything about which he was not certain; he would weigh all the evidence at his disposal and try to adjudicate fairly upon the merits of the report and the character of the narrator. He would not be a party to the perpetuation of a false report. In reporting a tradition of the Prophet he was conscious of the Muslim belief that the Prophet had strongly forbidden his followers to ascribe a saying or a tradition to him falsely. Therefore, he wanted to avoid at all costs any participation in such an act. The secular historians unhesitatingly imbibed these ideas and adopted the same attitude in their fields.24

This attitude created high standards of objectivity. Indeed, quite often objectivity was carried to ridiculous extremes. Not a few books written by Muslim authors are dry and jejune chronicles of events without any comments or value-judgments. The authors felt that it was their duty to narrate the events and that it was the business of the reader to arrive at his own conclusions. They did not believe that the historian's function was to narrate the facts as well as to interpret them. Such an attitude was crippling for a proper develop­ment of history as a social science. There was, however, a brighter side to this objectivity, a scrupulous regard for the truth. Even when history was written with a political objective in view, the facts were not mutilated.

The best examples are furnished by two Muslim historians of the Indo­-Pakistan sub-continent. Abu al-Fadl wrote the Akbarnameh with the blatantly clear object of extolling his patron, Akbar.25 Mulla 'Abd al-Qadir Badayuni, on the other hand, wrote his Muntakhab al-Tawarikh, it seems, to prove to the world that Akbar had strayed away from the right path. Shorn of the propaganda against Akbar, Badayiini's book is merely an avowed redaction of Nizam al-Din Ahmad's Tabagati Akbari. Badaynni has added information about Akbar's lapses from his personal observation and also from hearsay.

The general effect is pretty damning from the orthodox Muslim point of view. On closer analysis, however, it appears that Badayuni has suggested more than his words really convey, and, being a master of studied ambiguity and innuendo, he is able to create impressions without taking responsibility for some of the events that he reports. Wherever he is reporting an incident or a fact that is obviously not correct, he prefaces it by a vague remark like “It is reported that....” Sometimes he writes sentences that can be translated in more than one way.26 Such ambiguity, however, occurs only where the author deliberately seeks to suggest what he does not want to say. This was not done for any fear of the monarch, because Badayuni's book was kept secret during Akbar's reign.27

It was Badayuni's regard for the verbal and the literal truth that led him into these devious paths. He was perhaps not bothered about the general effect because he was probably convinced, as were several other men of high repute, of Akbar's heterodoxy. Badayuni left the path of historical rectitude only in heightening an effect that he considered to be true. Abu al-Fadl, who approached his task with an entirely different purpose, is hard put to it where he finds it difficult to justify or explain away some measure or action of the monarch. He adopts the method not of ignoring it, but of making a veiled reference to it that a discerning reader can well under­stand. Abu al-Fadl, his general panegyrics apart, shows a high regard for truth in reporting events. He was probably also convinced of the truth of the general theme of his work, namely, that Akbar was a monarch of unusual ability and that he was inclined to show remarkable benevolence towards his subjects.

Whatever axes the two authors had to grind are, however, quite apparent to the reader, but he cannot help being impressed by the pathetic regard for truth that is so apparent in these works and that is so difficult to main­tain because of the patently partial approaches of the authors. These are perhaps extreme examples, but they are by no means unique in the history of Muslim historiography. Nizam al-Din Ahmad, whose work has been mentioned above, provides a good example of the extreme objectivity observed by some Muslim historians, because, living in the midst of such acute controversy regarding the monarch's religious policies and attitudes and himself being orthodox in his own religious beliefs, he does not even as much as mention the topic. He could not have considered it unimportant, being an observer of good sensitivity, but he left it out because he did not want to pass value-judgments on matters which he disliked.

The Muslim monarchs were extremely sensitive regarding the verdict of the posterity on their deeds. They had the common human weakness of being desirous of leaving a good name behind them. Historians were, therefore, courted and patronized. A number of histories have been written by men who in varying degrees can be called “Court historians.” In some European circles their works are treated with suspicion, which is not justified in all cases. We have seen how men of probity have not twisted facts even when they seemed to mar their own thesis; at worst, they may have been guilty in some instances of the suppression of some unpalatable truth or the suggestion of virtues that did not exist. They could not have invented events.

Their faults can mostly be remedied easily-any hyperbolic praise of a patron is understood to be merely a matter of form; the pure and unabashed panegyric can be easily dismissed as being out of context.28

When a weakling is called a world-conquering hero by a writer, it is understood that the epithet is only an expression of courtesy conveying nothing, but a Muslim historian does not invent imaginary victories to adorn sober history. If a historian misses some event, he knows that others are likely to mention it and that he will be held guilty by posterity; therefore, there are few instances of deliberate misrepresentation by Muslim historians, and these have often been corrected by subsequent writers or even their own contemporaries.

The historians who had access to monarchs and their ministers were well informed and to that extent are more reliable. In an age when the printing press had not made the daily newspaper possible and governments were not publicity-conscious in the modern sense of the term, the isolated scholar was hard put to it to collect the necessary data for an informative book relating the events of a reign. One has only to compare the bazaar gossip related by European travelers to India with the sober histories of the period to see how distorted the reports of events did become once they had left the pre­cincts of the Court and the circles of persons in contact with the high officials.

A Court historian was in no less desperate a position than a historian of today who is overwhelmed by the information material issuing from the publicity departments of modern governments, especially when his own emotions are also deeply involved, e.g., in a crisis in which his own nation is concerned. The Court historian had his own reputation at stake because he intended to write for posterity. The professional code established by histo­rians could not be transgressed with impunity.

However, not all historians who were otherwise attached to a Court can be called Court historians. There have existed men of the highest probity who were attached to Courts and wrote historical works, but they cannot be termed Court historians. Amir Khusrau enjoyed the patronage of several monarchs but he was not employed as a historian. Badayuni, while attached to Akbar's Court, wrote against him. Nizam al-Din Ahmad held a high office in the government, but the recording of history was not one of his duties. It is doubtful whether even abu al-Fadl can be called a Court historian in spite of his great par­tiality for Akbar, because his official assignments were of an administrative or military nature.

The famous Abmad bin Yabya al-Baladhuri was a nadim of the Caliph al-Mutawakkil; 'Ata bin Muhammad al-Juwaini was a wazir; other government officials who were also historians of some eminence include Muhammad Yabya al-Siili, Sinan bin habit, Abu 'Ali Abmad bin Muhammad Miskawaih, and Salah al-Din Khalil bin Aibak al-Safadi, to name only a few. The great ibn Khaldun was a Qadi, but this was not considered so much of a government office as a religious obligation to be discharged by those quali­fied for it if they were called upon by the monarch to assume the responsi­bility.

There were some princes and rulers who took an interest in history and wrote works of considerable merit. An outstanding example is Isma'il bin 'Ali Abu al-Fide' who, in the midst of the busy life of a statesman and soldier, found time to write authoritative history. The 'Abbasid prince Abu Hashim Yosuf bin Muhammad al-Zahir wrote a history of the reign of his brother, al-Mustansir bi-Allah. Some of the rulers of the Yaman, like Jaiyas bin Najah (d. 501/1107), al-Afdal al-'Abbas bin 'Ali (d. 779/1377), and al-­Ashraf Isma'il bin 'Abbas (d. 805/1402) were responsible for historical works.29 None of these can be called Court historians, nor are their works prejudiced because of their high offices.

Diaries and memoirs are a fruitful source for historical studies. Indeed, some memoirs are our mainstay so far as the historical information regarding some areas at certain times is concerned. In this category come the memoirs of Zahir al-Din Muhammad Babur, whose stormy life presents not only one of the most exciting studies in history, but also gives us an insight into the political conditions of Central Asia after Timur's Empire had collapsed. He is rightly known as the prince of all diarists because of his frank narration of events, in which he also discloses his own humane personality, telling us in a most charming manner his weaknesses and recording his triumphs with­out any bragging. He hides neither his elation at success, nor sorrow at his defeat.

This chiaroscuro of victory and defeat, of weakness and strength, of lapses and piety, and of ambition and frustration reveals a sensitive and lovable personality possessed of artistic sensibilities, all of which makes the Tuzuk extremely readable in addition to being informative. To take another example, his great grandson, Nur al-Din Muhammad Jahangir, also wrote his memoirs. Jahangir had known no adversity; his tale could not be so thrilling as that of Babur;' besides, he wrote not as an ambitious adventurer, albeit crowned and of imperial descent, as Babur did, but as an established ruler of a great empire. And yet, Jahangir's memoirs do not show any lack of sensitivity. He is as keen an observer of human character as his illustrious ancestor was, as artistic in his own manner, being one of the greatest patrons of art, and an excellent critic and connoisseur. In spite of the inherent pomposity in the writing of an emperor who knows that his book will be read by his subjects even in his own lifetime, the book does not lack obvious sincerity.

These examples can be multiplied from other periods and other lands in the context of Muslim historiography. The main point is that the suspicion in which certain Western writers uncritically hold any writer associated with a Court is not justified. Those who transgressed the requirements of historical objecti­vity were forgotten and subsequent scholars and historians did not fail to criticize or even condemn them for their lapses. In the words of Diya' al-Din Barani, “it is necessary that the historian be known and famous for his truth and just dealing” and when “he writes of the excellences, the good deeds, the justice and equity of the ruler or of a great man, he must also not conceal his vices and evil deeds. ..; the attention of the truthful, pious, and sincere historian should be directed towards writing the truth. He should be in fear of answering on the Day of Judgment.... In sum, history is a rare and useful form of knowledge and its writing is a great obligation.30

As the writing of history was looked upon as a religious duty, the highest objecti­vity and impartiality were its criteria in the mind of the Muslim historian. There were black sheep as well and sometimes the desire for gain or the fear of a tyrant overcame the sense of responsibility of the writer, but he generally was relegated to oblivion.

Muslim historiography took several forms. The pre-Islamic Arabs took great pride in their genealogies. Like other primitive peoples, they generally kept verbal records which on some occasions were even publicly recited. Of course this often resulted in bragging and was a fruitful source of tribal war­fare and vendetta. The practice of maintaining genealogies was kept up under Islam as well, and many non-Arab families seem to have adopted the habit. It is unlikely that in the pre-Islamic period the Arabs bothered to remember the main events connected with the life of every ancestor. Some famous anecdotes or events might have been associated with some outstanding names, but an idea of a connected family history or biography, however sketchy, of even the better known men in the family tree was unknown. It is even more improbable that any of these genealogies were committed to writing in the pre-Islamic period. The main features of these genealogies were fairly well known even outside the group of those to whom a genealogy belonged and any fraudulent claim was soon countered. In a way this was the early Arab way of remembering their tribal origin, but it had little to do with real history.

When the Muslims took up historiography, genealogies proved helpful in understanding the part played by the Arab tribes in Islamic history. With the growing participation of the non-Arab Muslims in the affairs of the Islamic world the genealogical pattern came to be discarded in the greater part of the Muslim world. The origin of the genealogical works like Zubair bin Bakkar's Nasab-u Quraish was the exaltation of the Quraish; this was feasible because the ruling dynasties of the Umayyads and the `Abbasids were alike Quraish. Baladhuri's Kitab al-Ansab is the classical example of history being dealt with from the angle of genealogy. However, with the inclusion of so many non-Arab peoples in the world of Islam and their rise to power, such treatment became obsolete. It, however, thrived in the Maghrib, especially in Spain, because tribal considerations continued to play an important part in the area and history could be grouped around the activities of some tribes and clans. Private families, particularly some of the 'Alids and Hashimites, were interested in keeping a record of their ancestry.

Family histories have continued to be written up to this day. Most families, however, contented themselves with keeping their genealogies in tabular forms. Shajarahs were quite common in the Muslim world, but they cannot be classified as history. The Arabs, however, were given to tribal fighting which continued for con­siderable time and had the tendency to be rekindled at the slightest pretext. The memory of a spectacular or significant victory was kept alive. The battle­ day tradition occupied an important place in the folklore of early Arabia. Those who had distinguished themselves in a battle or had inflicted a humiliat­ing defeat on their adversary continued to brag about it long after. In fact, scholars are inclined to think that this form of narration was common to the earlier Semites as well. It is present in the older sections of the Bible.31

These traditions did not form a continuous narration like an epic; every anecdote stood by itself and spoke of a single event. In the Bible they have been grouped into a continuous narration, but each event can be read separately. It is improbable that any such anecdotes were committed to writing in pre-­Islamic Arabia.32 They were, however, known to the Arab historians of the Muslim period. They did not find their way into the Muslim historical literature before the seventh/thirteenth century, because the earlier historians were doubtful of their historical worth. They were valuable for philological studies, but not as sources of history, because they partook of fiction, being generally one-sided and meant to glorify one side.

Besides, they were not intended to be sober history; indeed, their original purpose was not the preservation of any historical fact, the conception of which was unknown to the pre-Islamic Arabs, but to be sources for entertainment for the listeners when recited. They were, however, significant in one sense: they created a tradition of recording a single event.

The narration of single events and their reporting is capable of independent and impartial treatment, and thus provides us with the raw material of history. These events can be strung together either chronologically or on the basis of a period, a locality, or even a topic. The treatment, however, tends to differ from continuous narration, because every report is a unit in itself. The line is not easy to draw and yet it is not difficult to see where the emphasis upon individual events is, even though they may be connected. This form of historiography came into vogue among the Muslims fairly early and is referred to by the name of akhbar. In its singular form, khabar, the word means a report, an item of news. In the oldest form of Muslim historiography one comes across small pamphlets written to describe a single event, like the pre-Islamic narra­tion of single battles.

The simple narration soon gave place to the description of the event followed by a discussion of the causes which were responsible for its happening. Even though such a description related to only a single event, it came closer to the present method of discussing the genesis of a happening. The single khabar gave place gradually to akhbar, a collection of several or many khabars. Theoretically, this could be quite disconnected, but the events or anecdotes came to have a focal point regarding a place or a subject and in their arrangement showed a consciousness of chronological sequence. Even in this form the method had serious handicaps.

A khabar was a well-rounded narrative, but the continuity of a historical process is difficult to convey in this manner. Any deep interpretation of facts also is ruled out, because the tendency is to look upon life as a series of separate incidents without much anxiety to discover their interaction. Every khabar was told like a vivid short story, hence it tended to sacrifice clarity and factual­ism for the creation of effect. This was sometimes achieved by the insertion of a few verses to drive a point home or to give it a dramatic quality. Indeed, it was not uncommon for the historian to retreat into the background and let the chief characters speak for themselves, very much like a dramatic dialogue.

In this form the facts were lost in the midst of the emotions of the speakers, who, to ring true, had to be shown saying what, in the opinion of the historian, they would have felt in the circumstances. Being the earliest form of historiography among the Arabs, the khabar was naturally integrated into other forms and was rarely found in its original and pure shape. It occurs in other works as well and can be spotted by its vivid style and the insertion of faked or actual conversations.33

Its most developed form was the mono­graph on some single historical event. A well-known historian in this style was 'Ali bin al-Mada'ini (752-830/1351-1417), known only through quotations from his works in other histories. A list of the books written by him is pre­served in al-Fihrist. In the sub-continent of India and Pakistan, perhaps Amir Khusran's Khaza'in al-Futuh furnishes the best example. His Tughluq-­namah, though written in verse, which is not usual with Khabar histories, has many of their characteristics.

It would, however, be a mistake to think of all books written on single reigns as falling into the category of the khabar literature. Its beginnings were, as has been mentioned, religious because it developed out of the desire to collect all the information about the life of the Prophet. The biographies of the narrators of hadith were a by-product. The biographies of religious and political persons followed naturally. Some biographies were written for sec­tarian purposes, for instance, the earlier works on the descendants and sons of the Caliph 'Ali; several biographies of Husain, Zaid bin 'Ali, and others fall in this category. Sometimes biographies were written at the request of a noble or a monarch.

Thabit bin Qurrah wrote a biography of al-Mu'tadid, which was completed by his son Sinan; this was supervised by the patron himself. Shams-i Siraj 'Afif's Tarikh-i Firuzshahi is a typical biography of a monarch; the Sirat-i Firuzshahi partakes of memoirs because it was super­vised by the monarch. Sometimes the biography of a patron was also a record of the author's own times and it is not always easy to draw the line between biography and memoirs. An excellent example is the Nawadir al-Sultaniyyah w-al-Mahasin al- Yusufiyyah, being the biography of Sultan Salak al-Din by ibn Shaddad. It achieves a high standard in depicting the character of the great monarch. Abu al-Fadl's Akbarnameh can be looked upon as a highly successful biography of a remarkable man in spite of the author's obvious endeavor to paint the monarch in as favorable a light as possible.

The success of the book lies in a faithful record of the events of the reign, which find confirmation in other authorities as well. The character of the monarch stands out clearly and in spite of the profusion of the adjectives in praise of Akbar, the panegyrics can be separated quite easily from what is the sub­stance of the narration, because these are introduced as much to deliver formal homilies of praise as to show off the capacity of the author as a master of ornate style. They are not spun into the texture of the narrative in a manner to confuse the reader.

A biography sometimes includes accounts of some of the ancestors of the sub­ject, but their lives occupy a minor place in the book and are introduced more often to trace the exalted line of descent of the main character. Sometimes, how­ever, the biography is extended to include others. In this category would fall the histories of dynasties or families. There are good examples of dynastic histories; the Tarikh al-f~hazdni by Fadl Allah Raid al-Din (d. 718/1318) being a history of Chingiz Khan and his family34 may be cited as one.

Another form of the collected biographies was the tadhkirah. Some of the tadhkirahs dealt with poets, others with Sufis, yet others with scholars, but they all had the common characteristic of being collections of short biographies of a number of persons. As a matter of fact, like other forms of biography, they differed considerably not only in their subject-matter, but also in the standards achieved. The tadhkirahs of poets always incorporated some critical material; the best of these were highly instructive as essays in literary criticism. The tadhkirahs of the Sufis were extremely popular, partly because of the growing popularity of the Sufi silsilahs and the great esteem in which some of the saintly Sufis were held by the populace, and also because of the Muslim tradi­tion of teaching religious truths through the biographies of learned and pious personages.35

This was based on the fundamental Muslim thinking that the best way of understanding Islam was through the study of the life of the Prophet. It was for this reason that biographies of jurists and scholars also were not neglected. Apart from monographs on biographies, it became the fashion to include sections on the biographies of important people in general histories.36 These would include the lives of theologians, Sufis, physicians, poets, and nobles. The disciples of famous Sufis sometimes collected their sayings into maljuzat; these consisted of the more significant utterances of the shaikh with a record of the circumstances in which they were made.37

In a way this may be considered to be a form of the kabar literature; it is, however, different in spirit, because the intention here is not to entertain but to instruct. Some tadhkirahs of the Sufis suffer from the admixture of supernatural fictions with truth. The defect is generally found in books written long after the subject of the tadhkirah had died and legends had grown about his super­natural powers. The writers of the tadhkirahs were seldom guilty of deliber­ately inventing tales; they only uncritically incorporated what they had heard. The tadhkirahs are very valuable because they generally give a picture of the social conditions of an age in which the general histories seldom devoted sufficient space to non-political topics.

The chronological order of the development of Muslim historiography has been transgressed in tracing the growth of the khabar form of historiography. Long before some of the developments narrated above, there had grown the annalistic form, in which the events were grouped around years. The historian took up the years in succession and then narrated the important happenings of each year. This was an excellent device for fixing the chronological sequence of events; and in all probability it gave to history the name of tarikh. It has been mentioned above that the word tarikh seems to have come into use in the pre-Islamic Yaman in the sense of fixing a deed in time; in other words, giving a date to a transaction. The earliest Islamic use is in connection with the establishment of the era of the Hijrah.38

Thus, apart from the narration pure and simple, which was khabar, tarikh was properly the assigning of a date to an event and, conversely, the fixing of an event in time by giving it a definite date. The annalistic form, therefore, seems to have played an important role in giving the name of tarikh to history. The greatest name in this form of history is the well-known Abu Ja'far al­-Tabari, whose famous history was written in the early fourth/tenth century. This is the first history in the annalistic form written by a Muslim that has come down to us. Tabari's greatness is recognized now in all quarters because of his accuracy and great diligence in collecting data and giving them the form of authentic history by sifting evidence, which he must have done to achieve the result.

There are indications that others may have preceded him in using this form; indeed one 'Umarah bin Wathimah has been mentioned to have written a history in the annalistic form in the third/ninth century, but we know very little about the book.39 It is, however, reasonable to believe that Tabari was not the first to use the form, but he is undoubtedly the greatest among those who have used this method both before and after him. The tradition, however, was continued and 'Ali bin Yusuf al-Qifti has mentioned a succession of trustworthy authors beginning with Tabari and ending with the year 616/1219.40 The best example in the Indo-Pakistan sub-continent is the Tarikh-i Alfi composed by a commission appointed by Akbar.

The annalistic form had serious limitations; for this reason it was not imitated on a large scale. It made an absolutely reliable chronology indispensable but where dates could not be determined with absolute certainty it was useless. Besides, this treatment tends to become merely a catalogue of facts in the hands of an unimaginative historian. Even at its best, it leaves little scope for philosophical synthesis or analysis. Even the inclusion of cultural and ad­ministrative data becomes difficult; the tracing of the growth of cultural, social, and administrative institutions is ruled out. The understanding of social or even political processes is not aided by this form of history.

When this form was combined with the idea that the highest expression of objectivity lay in a bare statement of the naked fact unadorned by any illuminating comment or opinion, it became little better than a chronology in tabular form that many historians found useful to append to their works. The sub­sequent arrangement of information in decades, generations (qarun), or cen­turies, may have been derived from annalistic historiography. In any case, the grouping of biographical information in accordance with periods of time seems to have been affected as much by annalist traditions as by other con­siderations like the convenience of grouping people together by the years of their death.

An outgrowth of these forms was the genre of tabaqat. A tabaqah means a layer; it generally refers to a generation. The word Barn meaning a generation preceded the word (tabaqah, but later (tabaqah came to be used more often until works were called by the names of tabaqah. The term was originally applied to different generations of the narrators of Hadith; then it began to be applied more loosely, until it embraced the succeeding generations of all kinds of men. A history which was named by its author as tabaqat was meant to give information about various classes of people; however, the author seldom used the term in this wide sense and, therefore, only the classes that mattered in the opinion of the author were included.

Quite often a tabaqat work could limit itself to a single reign. Some of these are more like tadhkirahs, as, for example, ibn abi Usaibi'ah's history of physicians or abu Ishaq al­-Shirazi's history of the jurists. Tadhkirahs and tabaqat of this nature alike gradually adopted an alphabetical arrangement to make reference easy, so that some of them came to be biographical dictionaries, often concise and limited to the barest facts. There were notable exceptions and, as has been mentioned earlier, many books dealing with poets incorporated critical reviews of their main works.

The Muslim historians developed many useful mechanical techniques. They were not averse to putting statistical and other factual information in the form of tables.41 They appended in many places their authority for a state­ment.42 Indeed, with the more careful historians, the sources of their informa­tion are almost invariably revealed. They attached bibliographies to their works, utilized official documents and correspondence, and when they thought that it was necessary to do so, they quoted the document verbatim. Conse­quently, some important documents have thus been preserved for us.43 They utilized all official material that was available to them including the more important decisions of the courts. The Muslim governments kept good records; the courts also had records of all the cases that came before them. The his­torians, therefore, had no dearth of official material and they used it whenever they found it relevant to their subject. They were aware of the importance of numismatic and epigraphical evidence and used both frequently.

It has been mentioned that the Muslims look upon themselves as a world community. Muhammad as a successor to all the prophets of the world came to fulfil the missions of all of them. The history of the world was, therefore, a matter of vital concern to the Muslims. A fairly large number of histories were, therefore, planned as world histories. The knowledge about the history of the non-Muslim world was fragmentary and depended upon the accuracy of the local tradition which was not reliable in most instances.

There were large regions which had no history; it is, therefore, obvious that the Muslim histories could not be perfect in the recording of the events of other regions or of the past of the regions where Islam had domination. The science of archaeology had not been developed; the methods of deciphering dead languages had not been invented. Because of these factors some non-Muslim pretenders to knowledge practiced curious frauds upon Muslim rulers and Muslim scholars.44 History based on traditions and legends cannot be satisfactory; hence we find that the Muslim accounts of the ancient history of Mesopotamia or of Egypt are unreliable and fragmentary. The knowledge of the Arabs grew as their geographers succeeded in accumulating knowledge. Yaqut bin 'Abd Allah al-Hamawi's geographical dictionary, Mu'jam al-Buldan, seldom fails to incorporate biographical material of the people of note belonging to a locality. 'Ali ibn al-Husain al-Masudi is the best example of the interaction of geographical and historical knowledge; indeed, he combines the two disciplines in a remarkable manner. Today the works of the Arab geographers form a good source of history and are indispensable; even to their contemporary historians they were of extreme importance.

So far as the world of Islam was concerned, it was a real entity. In the earlier period before the rise of the 'Abbasids split the Muslim world into the East and the West, it formed a single polity. Juristically and theologically, the indivisibility of the Muslim world is an axiom, based as it is upon the Qur'anic doctrine of the brotherhood of all Muslims and upon the implied uni­versalism in the conception of the unity of the Muslim community. It is, therefore, a matter of no surprise that it seemed only natural to the Muslim historians that they should look upon the whole of Muslim history as a single entity. Some of the works, thus, became huge compendiums because they had to treat the various regions and States which in spite of the theory came to have separate histories. With the weakening of the 'Abbasid Caliphate, it remained no easy matter to treat the entire Muslim world in one work. The most outstanding work that achieved great success in this respect is ibn Athir's Kamil fi al-Tarikh. It maintains its balance despite the length of the period which it covers and the large number of countries that it deals with. Despite its annalistic arrangement, it is not devoid of philosophical reflections on the happenings of some importance.

However, this trend of writing universal histories could not last long. For one thing, the distances were enormous and it was not easy to keep an eye on the happenings of so many corners of the Muslim world. Ibn Air himself complains; “A man sitting in Mosul cannot but miss some events happening in the remote corners of the East and the West.”45 It must be remembered that ibn Athir was more successful than anyone else. Broken into numerous independent States, even though most of these continued to owe allegiance to nominal Caliphs, the Muslim world could not, despite the doctrine of the unity of the Muslim world, ignore its division. It entered the domain of religious thinking as well and there grew up proponents of legally sovereign States, every monarch exercising the functions of the Caliphate within his own dominions and enjoying the prestige of being the Caliph in his territories. The Moghul Emperors of the Indo-Pakistan sub-continent were an outstanding but not the only example of the dynasties that accepted this theory of divided Caliphate. Even before, there had been written dynastic and local histories, but gradually the new trends brought to an end the tradition of universal histories of the Muslim world. The intermediate stage was that of the historian who would begin with the beginnings of the Islamic history and then trace the developments in the area about which he was writing, thinking that the Islamic traditions in his own land were a continuation of the history of Islam. Abu 'Umar Minhaj al-Din 'Uthman bin Siraj al-Din al-Juzjani's Tabaqati-i Nasiri is a good example. The dynastic and local histories have already been discussed.

The connection between political science and history was generally under­stood by the historians. As a matter of fact, the knowledge of history was considered essential to the work of statecraft. 46The policies pursued by previous monarchs were put forward as object lessons to illustrate the con­sequences of foolish as well as wise methods. For this reason many authors included a good deal of information about administrative measures in their books and summed up their success or failure. In the sub-continent of India and Pakistan a considerable amount of space was devoted to the administrative reforms undertaken by the rulers. Diya' al-Din Barani's Tarikh-i Firuzshahi; Shams-i Siraj 'Afif's Tarikh-i Firuzshahi, the Sirat-i Firuzshahi, and the Futu­hat-i Firuzshahi.'Abd al-Qadir Badayuni's Muntakhabat al- Tawarikh;'Abd al­-Hamid Lahori's Padishahnameh; 'Ali Muhammad Khan's Mir'at-i Ahmadi, to name but a few, are replete with this kind of information.

The most out­standing work, however, is abu al-Fadl's Akbarnameh, of which the A'in-i Akbari is intended to be an appendix. But what an appendix it is! It is a virtual gazette of the Moghul Empire and contains so much economic and administrative data that scholars have not yet been able to utilize them fully. The administrative institutions, the policies of the State, the divisions of the population, the agricultural produce of the various areas, the crafts and industries in the different parts of the Empire, and a host of other matters have been recorded. In addition, a considerable amount of cultural material is included. Compared to al-Biruni's Kitab al-Hind, there is no medieval book that gives such a sympathetic account of the Hindu faith and philosophy.

The incorporation of the accounts of alien faiths and cultures is an old Muslim tradition of Muslim historiography. The great geographers seldom mentioned an area without giving some account of the religious beliefs and social customs of its inhabitants. For the non-Muslim times, whenever, for want of historical information of a political nature, the Muslim historian felt at a loss to collect much data, he fell back upon the knowledge of the culture of the people.47 The histories quite often incorporate large sections of the biographies of men noted in some fields of culture.

Abu al-Fadl's data are mainly based upon al-Biruni so far as Hinduism is concerned, but his book also contains his own observations and research. In view of the immediate sources of knowledge available to him and because of his voracious thirst for knowledge, it is unlikely that he did not check all that al-Biruni had said, especially when the Emperor himself was taking so great an interest in Hinduism and abu al-Fadl was his constant consultant. The fact that abu al-Fadl had so little reason to differ shows how well al-Biruni had dealt with the subject.

The fact that history had a deep relationship with statecraft was recognized by the monarch’s themselves.48 The Caliph Mu'awiyah is reported to have spent some time regularly every night in the study of history; the narrator of this story gives details that show that the Caliph devoted this time to the study of mundane and secular history.49 These examples can be multiplied ad infinitum. Harun al-Rashid, the Moghul Emperors of India, the Iranian rulers, indeed, monarchs of practically every part of the Muslim world and in every age attached the greatest importance to the study of history. Gradually, a literature grew up that emphasized only those aspects of history that had some direct relevance to statecraft. Sadid al-Din Muham­mad al-'Aufi's Jawami' al-Hikayat wa Lawami' al-Riwayat contains selections of historical stories and information that illustrate some principles of politics or administration.

This kind of literature gave place to treatises on adminis­trative matters pure and simple and on politics and statecraft. Even the latter were replete with historical anecdotes. Some were written by men of administrative experience like 'Unsur al-Ma'ali Kaika'us bin Sikandar bin Qabus' Qabusnameh or Nizam al-Mulk Tfisi's Siyasatnameh; others were written by professional historians like Diya' al-Din Barani-Fatawa-i Jahdandari; yet others by saintly Sufis who were interested in securing the welfare of the people through the instruction of monarchs. In this last category falls the Dhakhirat al-Muluk by Sayyid 'Ali bin Shihab Hamadani. The great Ghazali also has a treatise of this nature in his Nasa'ih al-Muluk. Some were written by obscure writers and to give importance to their works, they ascribed them to well-known historical characters, as the Tauqi'at-i Kisra is ascribed to Nushirwan and the Wasaya-i Nizam al-Mulk to the statesman whose name it bears.

History today is related to sociology and endeavors to find the relation­ship between economic, social, and political factors and course of events. Indeed, history is no longer a mere recording of facts; it seeks to understand the significance of these facts as agents in fashioning the social and political fabric; it explores the impact of the past on the present in a more vital and deeper sense. It would be idle to expect the developments of the fourteenth/twentieth century in classical Muslim historiography because a good many of the sciences that are so important in understanding the full significance of historical processes had not developed until recently. For instance, the science of economics has made such rapid strides that it can hardly be recognized to be in the least related to the medieval economic thinking.

Economic relations were neither so widespread nor were they so complex in a world where rapid means of transport were not known and the impact of world forces was not felt so quickly as in the world of today. Yet the Muslim historians were not unaware of these considerations. It is a truism to repeat that ibn Khaldin's contribution in connecting history with sociology has been outstanding. He has been highly praised by modern authors and he has richly deserved this praise. “In the Prolegomena (Muqaddimah) to his Universal History (Kitab al-'Ibar) he has conceived and formulated a philosophy of history which is undoubtedly the greatest work of its kind that has ever been created by any mind in any time or place.”50 “Ibn Khaldin was a historian, politician, sociologist, economist, a deep student of human affairs, anxious to analyze the past of mankind in order to understand its present and future.51

Ibn Khaldin (732-808/1332-1406), considered simply as an historian, had superiors even among Arabic authors, but as a theorist on history he had no equal in any age or country until Vico appeared, more than three hundred years later.”52 So far as ibn Khaldin's own position and contribution are concerned, it would suffice here to give these quotations, because a fuller discussion of his work is given in Chapters XLVI and XLIX of this work. It is true that ibn Khaldin had no peers in the world of Islam, but it is not correct as has become fashionable to assert that he had neither predecessors nor successors in what he set himself to do.

Muslim historians do, in their search for causes, go into fields that are not merely political and search out causes that are not discernible on the surface. The Muslim writers had tried to understand the working of economic laws and were conversant with the Greek works on the subject.53 The writers on revenue in particular brought in economics and sound finance within the scope of their work.54 Of these perhaps Qudamah bin Ja'far deserves special mention, who in one of his chapters presents a systematic discussion of political and social sciences.55 He enters into fundamental considerations regarding the social and economic needs of human beings and the steps taken to meet them. Observations on political, economic, and social factors are found scattered throughout the books of ethics, politics, and history.

In the Indo-­Pakistan sub-continent, abu al-Fall among others has brought in questions of economics and social organization while commenting upon administrative measures. The most outstanding example is Shah Wall Allah, who based his philosophy on economic and social foundations.56

Being confronted with the problem of the decline of the Muslim political power in the sub-continent of India and Pakistan, he analysed the forces at work to diagnose the disease from which the polity as well as the society suffered at that time and came out with his suggestions for curing their ills, in doing which he explored a wide range of economics, sociology, history, and politics. He examined the relations subsisting between the producers and consumers and laid down the dictum that in a balanced society everyone must contribute to its welfare. Then he pointed out how some sections of the society had become parasites and, thus, had upset the balance. This kind of analysis runs right through his discussions, whether he is discussing social conditions or examining political and economic ills. He has a historical mind because he brings in the examples of the great civilizations that had preceded Islam and draws relevant con­clusions from their fate.

In conclusion one may say that history has been a favorite discipline with the Muslims. They brought the highest standards of objectivity into their writings; they showed great enthusiasm for the discovery of true facts; they produced a vast literature of considerable merit at a time when even among the civilized peoples there was not much flair for historiography; indeed, there were cultures of a highly developed nature that had no place

Jurisprudence in their learning for historiography. At such a time the Muslims established standards which have not always been improved upon in the modern world. For instance, contemporary nations have to learn a good deal in standards of objectivity and in distinguishing between national glorification and history. The Muslims were able to expand the scope of history from mere recording of facts into a repository of political, administrative, and cultural experiences and made fruitful essays into the analytical field as well. They failed like the political thinkers of Islam in suggesting the evolution of institutions that would have enabled greater and more responsible participation of the people in the affairs of the State, but they did help in making the Islamic govern­ments beneficent and benevolent at a time when other governments tended to be arbitrary and even tyrannical.

Bibliography

Al-Biruni, Chronology of Ancient Nations, ed. and tr. E. Sachau, London, 1879; abu al-Faraj, Tarikh Mukhtasar al-Duwal, ed. Salhnni, Beyrouth, 1890; E. Lacoire, Table de Concordance des dates des Calendriers arabe, Copte, gregorien, israilite, etc., Paris, 1891; Franz Rosenthal, A History of Muslim Historiography, Leiden, 1952; Firdausi, Shahnameh; Muhammad bin 'Abd al-Ralpnan Sakhawi, al-I'lan bi al-Taubik_h li man Dhamma Ahl al-Tarikh, trans. into English by Rosen­thal; al-Khatib Baghhdadi, Kifayah, Hyderabad, 1357/1938; Diya' al-Din Barani, Tarik-i Firuzs_hahi, Calcutta, 1860-62; Badayuni, Muntakhab al-Tawarikh; abu al-Fall, .91n-i Akbari; Sajazi, Fawa'id al-Fuwad; 'Abd al-Rahman bin 'Ali at­Jauzi, Muntazam, Hyderabad, 1357-58/1938-39; 'Ali bin Yasuf al-Qifti, Tarikh al-Hukama', ed. A. Muller and J. Lippert, Leipzig, 1903; Baihaqi, Tarikh-i Baihaqi; ibn Ateir, Kamil ft al-Tarikh, Cairo, 1301/1883; al-Mas'udi, Muraj al-phhahab, Cairo, 1346/1927; C. Issawi, An Arab Philosophy of History, London, 1950; Muham­mad bin Sulaiman, al-Mukhtasar fi 'Ilm al-Tarikh, English transl. by Rosenthal.

Notes

1. I C. Broekelmann, Geschichte der arabischen Litteratur, 2 Vols., Weimar,1898 ; Berlin,1902 ; ibid., Supplementbande, 3 Vols., Leiden,1937 -42; C. A. Storey, Persian Literature, A Biobibliographical Survey, London,1935 -59; F. Babinger, Die Ge8chithtsschreiber der Osmanen and Are Werke, Leipzig,1927 (gives good surveys of the literature discussed in this chapter). Details of the works mentioned here have not been given because they are available in these surveys.

2. Franz Rosenthal, a History of Muslim Historiography, Leiden,1952 , p. 16.

3. e A. Jaussen and R. Savignac, Mission Archeologique en Arabia, Vol. II, Paris,1909 -14, Minaen Inscription No. 32.

4. Rosenthal, op. cit., p. 66, n. 5.

5. The main argument in favor of Byzantine influence is that some historical works written before the known Muslim histories show a similarity in arrangement. The annalistic arrangement, thus, could have been taken over from the Byzantines. On the other hand, the annalistic form could be a natural development. The argument against the acceptance of the view that the Byzantines had any influence is that the Muslim historians do not mention Byzantine authors, in spite of the fact that they were fond of mentioning their sources of information.

6. The work that has come down through an Arabic translation is Khuatainamak, which can hardly be called a history. Other sources of Iranian history were translated into Arabic towards the second quarter of the eighth century A.D. None of these was considered important enough to be preserved in spite of the Iranian tendency to glorify their past. Firdausi's dhah Ndmeh written in the fourth/tenth century depended upon legend rather than history. If there had been any sober history available at that time, more of it would have entered the poem.

7. This is inherent in the Muslim belief, based upon the Qur'an, v, 48; vii, 30, etc.

8. Ibid. v; 68ff etc.

9. Ibid. xxxii, 40, where the Prophet has been called “the seal of the prophets.” The seal comes at the end of an epistle. There is also a hadith which says, “There shall be no prophet after me.”

10. Qur'an, e.g., vi, 6; x, 70ff.; xi, 25ff.; xix, 74; xxix, 20ff.; xxx, 9, 42-47; xxxv, 44, 45, etc., etc.

11. Ibid., iii, 104

12. Ibid. iii, 110.

13. Ibid., xi, 100

14. 14 Ibid. VI, 25; viii, 31; xvi, 24, etc., etc.

The Qur'an uses the word “aadtir” which has generally been considered to mean stories, because of its resemblance to the Greek word historia (Golius, Lexicon Arabico-Latinum, Leiden,1653 , column1171 ), but this seems to have little sub: stance in fact, except for the coincidental resemblance. Several European authors have followed Golius, but opinion has now changed. Indeed, the Arabs should have been the first to notice the resemblance and to use the word in the sense of history if there were any substance in this identification. It is more likely that the word has been derived from satar (to write); hence asdtir should mean a record. They certainly do not seem to imply that the Prophet was reciting to them merely fables.

15. This is obvious from the references to communities like 'Ad, Thamnd, etc., vide note 10; also Qur'an, xiii, 30; xiv, 36.

16. Many religious thinkers in Islam refer to the Jewish legends adopted by some mufassirin as Isra'iliyat and disapprove of their use.

17. Muhammad bin 'Abd al-Rahman al•Sakhawi, al-Flan bi al-Taubik li man Mamma AN at-Tarikh, translated into English by Rosenthal, op. cit., pp. 246, 247, 263.

18. 18 Muhanunad bin Sulaiman al•Kafiyaji, al-Muk_htarar T 'Itm al•Tdrik_h, selected passages translated into English by Rosenthal, op. cit., pp. 189, 190; al-Sakhawi, op. cit., pp. 205ff.

19. Qur'an, VI, 116; the corruption of previous Scriptures finds mention also at other places, e.g., v, 13.

20. Al-Sakhawi, op. cit., pp. 259, 261.

21. Ibid., p. 299.

22. Ibid., p. 264.

23. Al-Khatib al-Baghdadi, Kifayah, Hyderabad,1357 /1938 , pp. 39ff.; also, al­Bukhari, Sahih, iv, 121, 126, 142 (Krehl).

24. E.g. Diya' al-Din Barani, Tarikh-i Fireczshahi, Calcutta,1860 -62, pp. 16, 17.

25. Jalal al-Din Muhammad Akbar (1556 -1605 ), third in the line of succession among the Moghul Emperors of India.

26. His subtle insinuations have, through faulty translation, caused grave mis­understandings among European writers like Vincent Smith.

27. E.g. passages quoted in Sources of Indian Tradition, ed. William Theo­dore de Bary, Columbia University Press, New York, pp. 527, 528, show quite clearly that the authors do not intend the readers to take all their adjectives seriously. Akbar was certainly not “the ruler of the world and of all who inhabit it” nor the “origin of the canons of world-government” and “author of universal conquest.”

28. E.g. passages quoted in Sources of Indian Tradition, ed. William Theo¬dore de Bary, Columbia University Press, New York, pp. 527, 528, show quite clearly that the authors do not intend the readers to take all their adjectives seriously. Akbar was certainly not “the ruler of the world and of all who inhabit it” nor the “origin of the canons of world-government” and “author of universal conquest.”

29. O. Lofgren, Arabische Texte zur Kenntnis der Stadt Aden im iliittelalter, LJpsala,1936 , II, pp. 20, 43-47.

30. Barani, op. cit., pp. 16, 17.

31. “Exodus,” xiv, 30; “Samuel,” I, xvii.

32. Some scholars are of the opinion that no written prose literature existed in pre-Islamic Arabia, e.g., William Marcais, “Les Origins de la prose litteraire arabe,” Revue Africaine, LXVIII,1929 , pp. 15-18.

33. A good example is Sultan `Ala' al-Din Khalji's conversation with Qadi Mughith, reported by Barani, op. cit., pp. 293-97.

34. Many of the histories written in the Indo-Pakistan sub-continent do not fall into the category of dynastic histories. They generally take up certain periods of Muslim rule or of a dynasty, but few works are devoted entirely to a dynasty.

35. E.g., Sheftah's Gulshan-i Be-khar, Azad's Ab-i Hayat, and Shibli's ini`r at­'Ajam

36. E.g., Badayiuni in his Muntakhab al-Tawarikh, Abu al-Fadl in his A'in-i Akbari, etc.

37. E.g., Hasan'Ali Sajzi's Fawa'id at-Fuwad.

38. Al-Sakhawi, op. cit., p. 310; al-Kafiyaji, op. cit., p. 183.

39. 'Abd al-Rahman bin 'Ali al-Jauzi, Muntazam, Hyderabad,1357 -58/1938 -39, p. 37.

40. 'Ali bin Y6sufal-Qif¢i, Tarik_hat-Hukama', ed. A.Muller and J. Lippert, Leipzig, pp. 110ff.

41. A'in-i Akbari abounds in such tables; Barani gives tables of the names of officers in each reign, etc.

42. This was derived from the way ahadith were narrated: “A heard from B who heard from C who heard from D that the Prophet said…..”

43. Some examples are: Baihaqi in Tarikb-i Baihaqi has preserved the oath of allegiance taken by Mas'ud of Ghaznin to the Caliph; Badayani has preserved the text of the mahdar recognizing Akbar's authority to choose an interpretation where the doctors of law disagreed; abu al-Fadl has preserved the letter Akbar wrote to 'Abd Allah Khan Uzbek of Transoxiana, etc.

44. When Asoka's pillar was brought by Firuz Shah from Meerut and erected at Delhi, the Hindu pundits who do not seem to have known Pali said that the inscription on it prophesied the great success of Firuz hah as a ruler; also cf. Rosen­thal, op. cit., p. 111.

45. Ibn Aqir, Kamil f al.Tarikh, Cairo,1301 /1883 , I, p. 3.

46. This was the reason why historical studies formed an essential part of a prince's education, e.g., Sinan bin Thabit bin Qurrah quoted by ibn al-'Adam, Bugjhyat al-Talab, Cairo, MS. Tarikh,1566 , I, p. 137; ibn Hamdun, Tadhkirah, Bodleian MS. (Ar.) Marsh 316 part 3, 80b, etc., etc.

47. The reason has been given by al-Tha'libi, Qhurar, Paris, MS. (Ar.)1488 , f. 247a, where he says, “The narration of these matters is like reporting about their kings, because people follow the religion of their kings, especially the Indians who immolate themselves for the glory of their kings and some of them even wor­ship their kings.” The author has explained earlier that historical data regarding India are difficult to obtain.

48. Ibn Hamdun, op. cit., says, “Genealogy, history, and elements of jurisprudence, are royal sciences.” Compare Yaqut, Irshad, Cairo, I, p. 27, who says, “the know­ledge of genealogy and history belong to the sciences of kings ....” bah Jahan made a habit of listening to history every evening ('Abd al-Hamid Lahori, Padishah­nameh, Bib. Indic&, Calcutta, I, p. 153).

49. Al-Mas'udi, Murdj al-Dhahab, Cairo,1346 /1927 , II, p. 72.

50. Charles Issawi, An Arab Philosophy of History, London,1950 , p. x, quoting Arnold J. Toynbee.

51. Idem, pp. x, xi, quoting George Sarton.

52. Ibid. p. xi, quoting Robert Flint.

53. M. Plessner, Der ouxovouir.6S des Neupythagoreers “Bryson” and sein Einfluss auf die islamische Wissenschaft, Heidelberg,1928 , Orient and Antike, Vol. V.

54. The various books on Kharaj and the A'in-i Akbari of abu al-Fadl are good examples.

55. Rosenthal, op. cit., pp. 462-63, gives a table of contents.

56. Such material is found in several of his books, especially Hujjat Allah al. Balighah; an Urdu translation is available, Lahore,1953 .


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