Download PDF |( Oxford Studies In Byzantium) Gideon Avni The Byzantine Islamic Transition In Palestine An Archaeological Approach Oxford University Press ( 2014)
441 Pages
Preface
Ever since my first fieldwork experience in archaeological surveys and excavations in the Negev Highlands back in the early 1980s, I have been intrigued by the apparently unbridgeable gap between the traditional historical narratives on the Arab conquest of the Near East in the 630s, which influenced the accepted archaeological conventions on one hand, and the ‘facts on the ground’, which were being revealed by those of us working in this remote corner of the settled lands on the other. Documenting what was then believed to be settlement sites from the Byzantine period, we have realized that the Arab conquest left no trace in the archaeological record of many surveyed and excavated sites.
These early studies were followed by three decades of exhaustive research, during which I was privileged to conduct research and excavations in several major urban sites of the settled country, among which were the cities of Jerusalem and Ramla, and the necropolis of Beth Guvrin-Eleutheropolis. The results of our researches coincided with a plethora of data from excavated sites in neighbouring regions, many of which addressed questions on the political, religious, and cultural transformation in the Near East during the second half of the first millennium, enhancing the development of a new approach to the Byzantine– Islamic transformation. With the progress of pottery-dating methodologies, the longue durée approach for the existence of these settlements was inevitably adopted, and the seeds of a new insight on the transformation of settlement and society were planted, consequently treating the the traditional historical narratives and archaeological conventions being viewed with a grain of salt. Like a huge jigsaw puzzle, the archaeological data slowly began to produce a fascinating picture of a Mediterranean society gradually transformed. In contradiction of the harsh scenario of ‘smoke and fire’ that emphasizes a violent conquest followed by rapid change, archaeological findings paint a much milder picture, in which political and religious tolerance set the tone for the relationships between various ethnic communities in Palestine.
While addressing one of the most significant political and religious changes in the history of the Near East, in which a new reality was gradually created, one cannot avoid the analogy with recent events in this turbulent region, longing for political and religious tolerance that will replace the smoke and fire that has been spreading throughout it in modern times. I would like to thank the Israel Antiquities Authority for providing me with its resources on surveys and excavations throughout the country. Part of this research was supported by a generous grant from the Israel Science Foundation, which enabled me to conduct, in partnership with Amikam Elad, Katia Cytryn-Silverman, and Ofer Efrati, a detailed study of the urban centres of Palestine during the Early Islamic period. Large parts of this book were written during my 2008–9 fellowship at the Institute of Advanced Studies in the Hebrew University of Jerusalem.
I am grateful to both institutions for allowing me the time and space to pursue the research in inspirational scholarly surroundings. I am deeply indebted to my colleagues and friends Ronnie Ellenblum, Amikam Elad, and Katia Cytryn-Silverman for their insights, and for discussing many topics that stimulated my research. I am also grateful to Donald Whitcomb, Alan Walmsley, Robert Schick, Jodi Magness, and Marlia Mango for sharing with me their vast knowledge on the period, its sites, and finds. Many colleagues and friends provided me with details from their excavations and researches, and I am indebted to them all: Shlomit Weksler-Bdolah, Alexander Onn, Eli Yannai, Uzi Dahari, Gabi Mazor, Walid Atrash, Rachel Bar-Nathan, Moshe Hartal, Jon Seligman, Miriam Avissar, Tali Erickson-Gini, Peter Fabian, Yigal Israel, Dov Nahlieli, Ofer Sion, Uzi ‘Ad, Motti Haiman, Uzi Avner, Yuval Baruch, Amir Gorzalczany, Eli Haddad, Haim Barbe, Alla Nagorsky, Yehiel Zelinger, Yael Gorin-Rosen, Peter Gendelman, Edna Stern, Rina Avner, Danny Syon, David Amit, Shimon Gibson, Amos Kloner, Yitshak Magen, Haim Ben David, Yoram Tsafrir, Oren Gutfeld, Benny Arubas, Kenneth Holum, Vasilios Tzaferis, Alan Walmsley, Katia Cytryn-Silverman, Donald Whitcomb, Oren Tal, Ignacio Arce, Daniel Master, Tracy Hoffman, John Peter Oleson, and Rebecca Foote. Many thanks are due to the librarians of the IAA library at the Rockefeller Museum in Jerusalem for their most helpful assistance in my endless search for obscure bibliographical items, and to Natalia Zak, who patiently produced the maps for the book, as well as to Gila Brand for her meticulous editing of large sections of the manuscript.
This book is dedicated with love to my wife, Orli, my children, Yuval and Ya‘ara, and especially to my parents, Haim and Esther Avni, who accompanied its creation with great interest and sound advice, from my early years in the field to the final stages of writing. Gideon Avni Israel Antiquities Authority and the Hebrew University of Jerusalem.
A Note on Terminology and Chronology
The definitions of the geographical zones discussed throughout the text, covering the territories of modern Israel, Jordan, and the Palestinian Authority, are referred to by their administrative division in Byzantine and Early Islamic times, as presented in Maps 1.2 and 1.3. For the convenience of identification, places are generally indicated by their modern names or, in the case of the large and best-known sites, by their ancient name (e.g. Beth Shean for Scythopolis/Baysan, Jaffa for Yopa/Yaffa, Jarash for Gerasa, etc.). Chronological definitions are framed within the Byzantine and Early Islamic periods.
In this terminology I have followed the conventions of several major publications and textbooks relating to the historical and archaeological chronology of the Near East (for example, the New Encyclopedia of Archaeological Excavations in the Holy Land (NEAEHL), Gil 1992, and others), in which the Byzantine period covers the years 324–638 and the Early Islamic period covers the years 638–1099. The break between the periods is evidently the Arab conquest of Palestine and Jordan in 634–640. Within these welldefined general periods, specific dating is obviously required, and it is referred to throughout the text by calendar dating (usually centuries or specific dates), rather than by dynastic frameworks (Umayyad, Abbasid, Fatimid) or by numerical division (for example, Early Islamic I, II, III, as suggested by Whitcomb). Dynastic terms were used only when applicable for specific topics, such as coinage.
Prologue: Four Eyewitness Accounts versus ‘Arguments in Stone’
The history of settlement and society in Palestine and Jordan during the Byzantine and Early Islamic period is illuminated by two sources: eyewitness accounts and archaeological findings. Sometimes they correspond, but not always. Both are available in abundance. Pilgrims and travellers who visited the Holy Land committed their first-hand impressions of the country and its inhabitants to writing, providing detailed accounts that were sometimes coloured by their own social and religious background.
The archaeological findings help to provide a more balanced view. By studying both the travelogues and the archaeological remains, the complexity of the transition process from Christian to Islamic rule becomes apparent. THE PIACENZA PILGRIM: 566–568 ce An anonymous Christian pilgrim from Piacenza in northern Italy who travelled to the Holy Land at the height of Byzantine rule in the sixth century wrote a colourful narrative of his pilgrimage.1 He spent close to three years travelling through Syria, Palestine, and Egypt, visiting the holy sites and documenting his vivid impressions of the land and people.
He describes religious sites and monuments, but also towns and villages, and the diverse ethnic and religious populations he encountered along the way. Travelling with a group of fellow Christians, the Piacenza Pilgrim followed the customary route of pilgrimages to the Holy Land. He sailed to Beirut and proceeded by land to northern Palestine, where he visited the Christian towns and villages of Sepphoris, Cana, Nazareth, Mount Tabor, and Capernaum.
From the Sea of Galilee, the group travelled southward to Gadara, Scythopolis, and the Jordan Valley, arriving at Christ’s baptismal site in the River Jordan. Turning west, they climbed the hills of the Judaean Desert, heading to the holy city of Jerusalem. After visiting Bethany and the churches on the Mount of Olives, they entered Jerusalem from the east.
The Piacenza Pilgrim, awed by the splendour of the Christian monuments, seems to have spent nearly a year in Jerusalem. In his writings, he devoted special attention to the large churches, especially the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, the recently constructed New Church of Theotokos (Nea Church), and the Church of Holy Zion on Mount Zion. He said nothing about the Temple Mount esplanade, the site of the Jewish Temple, which was probably a large, deserted open space at the time. After their long stay in the Jerusalem area, the pilgrims headed south to Gaza and the desert of southern Palestine on their way to Mount Sinai. Travelling through the Negev and Sinai, they faced the dangers that came with venturing into remote areas of the Byzantine Empire. The narrative offers a lively description of their encounter with the Saracens, the nomads of the inner desert.
The exceptional importance of this sixth-century work lies in the fact that unlike other pilgrim itineraries, the author did not concentrate only on his pilgrimage route but addressed many other aspects of Palestine and its people. The country is depicted as densely populated, with large cities, monumental churches, and civic buildings, many agricultural villages, and a fertile countryside. The reader gains insight into the life of ordinary people and the interaction between foreign pilgrims and the local population. Apart from Christians and Christian holy places, which were naturally his prime interest, he wrote about other ethnic groups—Jews, Samaritans, and Saracens. In his description of the ‘Cave of Machpela’ in Hebron, for example, he noted that Jews and Christians shared possession of this holy site.
The Piacenza Pilgrim itinerary thus provides a valuable depiction of Palestine at the height of Byzantine rule. His impression was of a peaceful, densely settled land where Christians were in a majority and Christian holy places attracted thousands of pilgrims who contributed to the country’s growing prosperity.
ARCULF: 676–680 ce
Arculf, a Christian bishop from Gaul, embarked on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, following a route similar to that of the Piacenza Pilgrim a century earlier. However, the political and religious milieu had changed dramatically in that time. Forty-five years before Arculf’s arrival, Palestine had been conquered by the Arabs, and Islamic rule was established. Arculf described his experiences in three books: one about Jerusalem and its monuments, another about his travels to Bethlehem, Hebron, Jericho, the River Jordan, the Galilee, Damascus, and Alexandria, and a third about Constantinople.2 However, these writings did not come down to us directly.
We learn about Arculf ’s pilgrimage from a secondary source: Adomnan, abbot of the monastery of Iona in western Scotland, who met the bishop after his voyage to the Holy Land and recorded his story.3 Adomnan transcribed Arculf’s narrative in full, adding maps and sketches of important Christian monuments, most of them in Jerusalem.4 Arculf the man remains almost invisible, and it is not clear to what extent the descriptions reflect his views or those of the narrator.5 Nevertheless, the narrative, which describes holy sites, cities, towns, and villages, appears to reflect the realities of Palestine in the second half of the seventh century. Although it was a religious pilgrimage, Arculf dwells at length on various urban components of Jerusalem, such as the city wall and towers.
While little is said about the political transition in Palestine, this account is one of the earliest Christian references to the Islamic presence in Jerusalem. Arculf briefly describes the large mosque that had been built on the formerly deserted Temple Mount, but says nothing about Jerusalem being a major Islamic religious centre. We do not know whether this omission was deliberate, or whether he was unaware of the profound religious changes sweeping Palestine, but we do know that his portrayal was typical of other Christian travellers in the eighth and ninth centuries, and contrasts sharply with the accounts of Islamic travellers and historians of the time.
AL-MUQADDASI: c.965 ce
Almost three hundred years later, the Arab geographer and historian al-Muqaddasi, named after his hometown, Jerusalem, wrote a detailed eyewitness account that depicts the urban landscape of Palestine around 965 ce. 6 Al-Muqaddasi was the son of an architect commissioned to build the fortifications and new harbour of Acre. He spent many years travelling around the Near East, documenting the Islamic world from Afghanistan in the east to the Maghreb in the west.7
One section of his book is dedicated to al-Sham—Syria and Palestine.8 He paid special attention to Jerusalem, his hometown; Ramla, capital of Jund Filastin; and Tiberias, capital of Jund alUrdunn. Many other towns in the region receive a brief mention, which provides a fairly good overview of the Palestinian countryside in the tenth century. Unlike other travellers to Palestine, al-Muqaddasi did not write from the standpoint of a pilgrim. As a geographer, he took an interest in settlement, economics, agriculture, climate, and daily life. His account of Jerusalem addressed the physical layout of the city, its walls and gates, streets and markets, public buildings, and major monuments, and dwelled especially on the Temple Mount compound, by then known as Haram al-Sharif, and its main religious buildings, the Dome of the Rock and the al-Aqsa mosque.9
He wrote little about churches, however, and lamented the preponderance of Christians in the city: Few are the learned here, many are the Christians, and these make themselves distasteful in the public places... The Christians and the Jews are predominant here and the mosque devoid of congregations and assemblies.10 Openly negative towards the Christian and Jewish communities, he called Jerusalem a ‘golden basin full of scorpions’. 11 Other cities in Palestine were portrayed as flourishing and economically stable.
While Ramla and Tiberias received the most attention, Acre (Akka), Beth-Shean (Baysan), Beth Guvrin (Bayt Jibril), Ascalon, Jaffa, Arsuf, Caesarea, Amman, and Ayla were also mentioned. Al-Muqaddasi’s impressions of the country are surprisingly similar to those of the Piacenza Pilgrim and Arculf: Palestine and Jordan are presented as densely populated and affluent, with many cities, towns, and villages. While Western pilgrims emphasized the predominance of Christian settlements, al-Muqaddasi obviously paid more attention to the Muslim presence, but without denying the impact of the Christian communities, which was still strong.
NAS IR - I KHUSRAW: 1047 ce
While touring the Near East eighty years after al-Muqaddasi, the Persian traveller Nasir-i Khusraw spent the spring and summer of 1047 in Palestine. His travelogue is one of the last accounts of Palestine before the Crusader conquest.12 Originating from Khurasan in Persia, Khusraw was a philosopherpoet who embarked on a pilgrimage to Mecca in 1046, followed by extensive travels in the Muslim world. Like al-Muqaddasi, he praised the splendour of Palestine’s cities and towns, dwelling on the major religious sites. Nasir-i Khusraw spent four months in Palestine. He arrived from the north, travelling from Tyre to Acre.
Acre is described in great detail, with special attention to the harbour (restored by al-Muqaddasi’s father more than a century earlier), and the villages and tombs on its outskirts. Tiberias landmarks mentioned are the city wall, the central mosque, the Jasmine Mosque on the western side of the city, the castle on the hill, and the tomb of Abu Hurairah, one of the prophet’s companions, outside the city limits. One of the Christian villages he saw in the Galilee was Cana, which had a fine hilltop monastery. Travelling southwards, Nasir-i Khusraw passed through Caesarea, which was surrounded by a wall with a mosque facing the sea. In Ramla, he noted the solid city walls built of stone and mortar, the White Mosque with its large underground cisterns, and the numerous rainwater reservoirs all over the city.
Jerusalem, also ringed by fortified city walls, awed him with its beautiful buildings of local white limestone, stately streets, and clean bazaars. A whole section was devoted to Haram al-Sharif, with its monumental architecture, underground structures, and water cisterns.13 While Jerusalem’s Islamic sites were his top priority, Nasir-i Khusraw did not ignore the Christian presence. Apart from the Church of the Holy Sepulchre,14 a vast building that could accommodate 8,000 people, he wrote that the city abounded in churches, all skillfully built.15 Jerusalem had a population of 20,000, according to his estimates, with an equal number of pilgrims. The water supply was derived from numerous private cisterns and a main aqueduct leading to the city from the south. Agricultural produce was brought in from villages and farms on the outskirts of Jerusalem, which grew olives, figs, wheat, and barley.
Food was cheap and plentiful. ‘There has never been a famine in the land of Syria,’ he wrote.16 Nasir-i Khusraw’s readers come away with the impression of a prosperous, populated region with a vigorous economy and an effective government, showing no signs of economic or political decline. On the eve of the Crusader era, which most historical sources describe as a period of decline, Khusraw depicts a land that is still vibrant and robust.
HISTORICAL DESCRIPTIONS VERSUS ‘ARGUMENTS IN STONE’
These four eyewitness accounts of Palestine in the sixth to eleventh centuries tell their story from different personal perspectives—that of the Christian pilgrim (the Piacenza Pilgrim and Arculf), the Muslim pilgrim (Nasir-i Khusraw), and the geographer (al-Muqaddasi). Nevertheless, their views of Palestine are quite similar, and seem to show that the country underwent only minor changes over the course of hundreds of years. The differences in perspective are not hard to see.
The Christians regarded Palestine as the Holy Land and the cradle of Christianity. Even when the country was under Islamic rule, they hardly related to this fact during their travels. The Muslims, on the other hand, saw Palestine as a monolithic Islamic domain. The presence of a Christian population was mentioned only briefly, and the fact that the Christians remained a majority in Palestine long after the Arab conquest was ignored.
Yet these narratives and many others have been used by modern historians to delineate the settlement map and ethno-religious composition of the region during Byzantine and Early Islamic times. Palestine during the second half of the first millennium was a multicultural land inhabited by Christians, Muslims, Jews, and Samaritans, as well as nomads with pagan beliefs living on the fringes of settled areas. However, not all segments of society were represented in the written texts that have survived from this period.
In consequence, the complex settlement patterns of late Byzantine and Early Islamic Palestine cannot be established in full through the use of these sources alone. So how can this fragmentary picture be filled out? How can we track down the changes in the cities, towns, and countryside between the sixth and eleventh centuries? What were the effects of the political and religious transition from Christianity to Islam on the local populace? Did the country continue to flourish, or did it plunge into a process of decline from the Byzantine period until the Crusader era? To answer these fundamental questions, modern researchers need other sources of information. The subjective accounts of eyewitnesses and political histories of the region written at some later date are not sufficient.
It is precisely here that archaeological research can add a new dimension. These ‘arguments in stone’, to use a term coined by Martin Carver for the archaeology of European cities,17 provide a valuable source of insight into the historical process. The findings of archaeologists over the last thirty years help to map out the complex web of settlement patterns, population dispersal, religious transition, and economic trends that characterized this turbulent period in the history of Palestine. The process of change, with all its complexity and regional differences, becomes more visible. In the following chapters, we will follow the changes that took place during the Byzantine–Islamic transition on the basis of the results of hundreds of archaeological excavations conducted in this small but history-packed region.
I believe that archaeology can provide a reliable index of the process of transformation that Palestine and Jordan underwent during this time. In general, these findings sharpen the impressions conveyed by the eyewitness accounts, although occasionally they contradict them. While historical texts often reflect the personal views of the author (in this case, their religious affiliation as Christians or Muslims), archaeological data are ostensibly unbiased evidence of material culture remaining after the abandonment and destruction of settlements. Yet in many cases, bias is introduced by archaeologists, sometimes through preconceptions in their approach to their research.
Misguided research strategies, erroneous dating of finds, or lack of knowledge about certain periods can produce flawed interpretations. Often, the archaeologist becomes the ‘author’ of an excavated site rather than a ‘reader’ or ‘interpreter’. 18 For example, classical archaeologists in several regions of the Mediterranean have ‘authored’ sites by concentrating on the excavation of monumental remains in large urban centres while ignoring residential quarters in cities, towns, and villages. ‘Time authoring’ has led to flawed views of the history of a site or a region. A preference for Roman remains at the expense of later periods at sites in the Mediterranean was widespread among archaeologists in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.19 This approach might stem from an academic interest in one period as opposed to another, financial constraints, or a political or nationalist agenda.
In Italy, for example, archaeologists focused on the Roman Imperial period with the blessing and massive support of the Fascist regime, which chose this ‘glorious’ period in the country’s history as the one it most identified with.20 The excavation strategy of archaeologists can thus play a major role in the interpretation and dating of a site. Early excavations in a number of Roman and Byzantine sites in the Near East produced flawed conclusions on the mechanism and chronology of the Byzantine–Islamic transition that have only been revised in recent years in the wake of renewed excavations.
The extensive early research at Gerasa–Jarash in 1928–34 is a case in point.21 Large sections of the Roman and Byzantine city were unearthed, featuring wide colonnaded streets, colossal Roman temples, and fourteen Byzantine churches. The first excavation report, published in 1938, ended with a description of the Byzantine remains, all but ignoring the final years of this flourishing urban centre in the Early Islamic period.22 The Arab conquest was cited as the turning point in the history of Gerasa, implying the permanent decay and abandonment of large areas of the Byzantine metropolis. Early Islamic remains in Jarash were linked in the minds of archaeologists to the onset of a sharp decline in settlement and the presumed oppression of the small Christian community that still lived there.
Early Islamic Jarash was called a ‘little village’ consisting of a ‘confusing network of walls’, ‘wretched hovels’, and ‘crudely built houses’. 23 Only during the subsequent excavations at Jarash in the 1970s and 1980s did the continuity of settlement in Early Islamic times become obvious.24 The full scale of the Islamic urban presence in Jarash was revealed with the discovery of a large congregational mosque in the city centre.25 An archival study of the documentation of the first excavations shows that the upper layers of the site were hastily cleared in order to reach the Roman and Byzantine levels, and no attention was paid to the layers and finds of the Early Islamic period.26
The ancient Tell of Beth Shean (Tell el-Husn), facing Jarash on the western side of the River Jordan, was excavated between 1921 and 1933 by the University of Pennsylvania Museum. As the archaeologists were mainly interested in the Bronze and Iron Age levels, the Byzantine and Early Islamic remains were mentioned only briefly. Very little was said about the upper levels of the Tell, which included the remains of a large, round Byzantine church, and the inhabitants of the phases of the Early Islamic period were regarded as ‘squatters’. 27 Classical Scythopolis presumably fell into decay with the Arab conquest and any continuity of settlement beyond the seventh century was ignored.
This misconception was only corrected when Beth Shean was extensively excavated in 1986–2000.28 Large-scale excavations in the valley to the north of the Tell showed that the Byzantine city continued to flourish until the mid-eighth century. After the 749 earthquake, the hub of Early Islamic Baysan moved to the southern hill. Recent salvage excavations in the modern town of Beth Shean have shown continuity of settlement into the tenth and eleventh centuries. In the 1950s and 1960s, excavations at Ramat Rahel, south of Jerusalem, also mistakenly concluded that a small village from the Byzantine period marked the end of a long sequence of settlement from the Iron Age through the Roman period.
The abandonment stage was summarized in the following statement: There descended in the seventh century the Arab invasion, which—on our Tell as everywhere else—brought to a swift end the life of the Christian communities. So there came to an end, for the Holy Land, a chapter of its history.29 This conclusion was refuted when excavations at the site resumed in 2005–11 and found a clear sequence of continuity from Byzantine to Early Islamic times.30 The previous view was not only a misreading of the finds, but was in line with the common notion that the Arab conquest was a violent rampage with catastrophic implications for local Christian settlement and society.
A careful evaluation of archaeological reports is thus imperative, particularly those written before the 1980s. In many studies, the problem seems to be a limited knowledge of the chronological markers and the automatic embrace of the traditional historical narrative of the Byzantine–Islamic transition.31 New research strategies and a refining of the chronological indicators over the last thirty years have introduced greater balance. More aware of the flawed interpretations of their predecessors, archaeologists have begun to adopt a more cautious—and ultimately more humble—approach to archaeological material. ‘Reading’ is now preferred to ‘authoring’ in the evaluation of excavations and surveys.
The following chapters address the transition of settlement and society in sixth- to eleventh-century Palestine from an archaeological perspective. On the basis of a careful study of findings from hundreds of excavated sites and regional surveys, my major argument is that archaeology provides a reliable picture of the Byzantine–Islamic transition. It was evidently a much slower and more gradual transformation, involving regional variability and affecting more locales, population sectors, and settlement configurations, than previously assumed.
The cultural and religious shift from Christianity to Islam, one of the most significant transformations in human history, needs to be considered from the longue durée perspective. It took a different shape in large urban centres, medium-sized towns, agricultural hinterlands, and nomadic settlements on the fringe of the desert. This process of change, from a Christian majority to a multicultural dynamic society, will be explored in the course of the book. On the basis of my own extensive research over the last three decades in the Negev, the Judaean Lowlands, the Jerusalem area, and Ramla, and using the cumulative data of surveys and excavations in many regions of the Near East and the Eastern Mediterranean, I propose a new paradigm for the Byzantine– Islamic transition.
There is a growing acknowledgement that archaeology can enhance our understanding of major historical issues,32 and I believe that archaeological findings can illuminate the historical processes that changed the Near East. Large-scale research throughout the region has allowed us to sketch a much clearer portrait of the evolving landscape of Palestine from the last century of Byzantine rule through the Arab conquest, the rise of an Islamic state, and four centuries of Muslim rule, ending in the 1099 Crusader conquest. In what follows, I will present the ‘arguments in stone’ for the transition of settlement and society in Palestine and Jordan from Christian domination to Islamic rule.
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