Download PDF | Maria Vaiou - Diplomacy in the Early Islamic World_ A Tenth-Century Treatise on Arab-Byzantine Relations-I.B. Tauris (2015).
370 Pages
Introduction
The importance of the Kitāb Rusul al-Mulūk Apart from sporadic references to Ibn al-Farrā’’s treatise Kitāb Rusul al-mulūk by a handful of scholars who have quoted it as a source on tenth-century Muslim views towards the Byzantines, Muslim protocol on the conduct of Muslim envoys, diplomatic practices in the medieval period, and Islamic historiography, the treatise has received little attention from modern scholarship.1 In the Arab world scholarly interest in and the appreciation of the treatise is reflected in Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn al-Munajjid’s two editions and by the fact that a number of copies were made during the last century.2 Still, while references to this treatise have been made occasionally by scholars, several obstacles have prevented it from reaching a wide audience. The greatest of these is the gulf that separates scholarship in the Arab world and the West. The text is not available in most Western libraries and is rarely quoted in Western scholarship.
In addition, non-Arab scholars rarely read Arabic, so important texts such as this remain inaccessible. The Rusul al-mulūk is an important text as it draws attention to the role of Muslim messengers in the medieval period. Drawing on Qur’ānic examples of the meaning of the root r-s-l the author defines the messenger and accords a solemnity to his role. By modelling the role on that of the Prophet and by focusing on its moral qualities described in the Qur’ān, he exalts the messenger as sacred. In addition, Ibn al-Farrā’ links the function of the messenger to that of the prophets and angels in communicating the depth of piety associated with the act of mediation and defining it as a divinely bestowed favour. Similarly, in a religious context imbued with quotations and phraseology from the Qur’ān, the traditions attributed to the Prophet and other pious sayings, the author introduces the practice of mediation between two peoples as a purely legitimate act of piety.
Thus the author stresses the use of diplomacy3 as a virtuous means through which official conduct was made possible; and that it should be seen as a justified course of action. Moreover, the author sanctions mediation by drawing on examples of similar practice used by the Prophet, the leader of Islam, who dispatched diplomatic emissaries. Despite its ample use of religious vocabulary, the Rusul al-mulūk is not a religious treatise, but a brief digest of honourable stories of diplomatic conduct. In it the author also draws attention to the psychological aspects of diplomacy necessary for the successful implementation of the messenger’s proposals. It provides a set of principles for the messenger to follow on how to manage, control and conduct himself.
The novel organizing theme of the treatise in its presentation of the role of Muslim messenger and the act of mediation is the concept of diplomacy as an alternative to warfare. Once he has expounded the rules of conduct for messengers, the author legitimizes diplomacy and elevates it to show that it is neither an irreligious activity nor a departure from the Qur’ān. Instead it is compatible with its teachings. Ibn al-Farrā’ ignores the debate on warfare and jihād in Islamic thought,4 taking a different line from previous literature, which was focused on the juristic principles of jihād, ghazw and siyar as religious activities. The author warns, through examples, that any form of aggression resulting from haste can be prevented through the practise of wise diplomatic methods. He views resorting to war as a result of the failure of diplomacy based on the sanctioned traditions of the Prophet. Further, the text, through its emphasis on the sanctity of emissaries, its exaltations of the act of mediation as an act of devotion to God and his Prophet, and through a number of quotations from the Qur’ān, serves as a nucleus of the Qur’ānic kernel that developed in Islamic jurisprudence.5 Furthermore, while Muslim scholars have mostly focused on diplomacy in the general context of peace and war, the text mainly seeks to draw attention to its ethical and moral dimensions. Herein lies its innovative nature, as there is no evidence that anything comparable in Arabic diplomatic literature existed before the mid-fourth/tenth century. To become a messenger one is required to follow rules and ethical norms, for it is not merely an individual aspiration, but one pursued for the benefit of the community. The author, by describing the qualifications required of a messenger, aims to show that the act of mediation is a practice that is sought after and not given. In this sense, diplomacy is represented as a bridge between the present reality and the reality to be desired, with the messenger intent on conducting his mission in accordance with God’s wishes. Through his adherence to the values and ethics, and as an embodiment of virtues, the messenger seeks his path to God and his work becomes an act of worship. The author ends his discussion with a ḥadīth that warns the reader of the impending last judgement and the consequences of moral failure in society. He enjoins him to build upon the foundation of Muslim traditions. In this sense the author urges the adoption of an activist stance with regard to piety and morality, alluding to the importance of the role of messengers and their practical intervention in society. The Rusul al-mulūk is an original synthesis using learned sources in order to glorify the practice of diplomacy.
Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn al-Munajjid, a mid-twentieth-century scholar and the editor of the Rusul al-mulūk says of its merits: “1) It is rare to find in the books of the ancients cohesion in the subject. Also, most often, you find that this unity is flawed by additions of secondary topics to the original ones, or many digressions. This book of ours exhibits too a cohesive unity for its subject revolves around messengers; messengers of kings and messengers of dignitaries. 2) The subject of the book is unique. For the author’s examination of the messengers of kings and the attributes that should be necessary in them gives the book its importance. Because this topic is closely related to the field of general international law produced by modern ages. To that may be added the fact that these attributes made explicit by the author are similar to those required today by messengers, and diplomatic ambassadors. This means that the Arabs became aware of these principles that we find nowadays in modern diplomacy…. 3) In the book there are some pages on diplomacy between Arabs and Byzantines in the ‘Abbāsid period and there are events in it which we do not find in other books. … 4) In the book there are texts from rare worthwhile books … [al-Munajjid goes on to enumerate these books]. In my opinion, the value of the book manifests itself in these new texts which it [the book] introduces to us and acquaints us with as they add new information to our previous knowledge about the subject of kings’ messengers”.6 Al-Munajjid indicates that the Rusul al-mulūk is not only a unique witness to diplomatic practice but also an important document for the sources the author used, especially those that are no longer extant concerning ‘Abbāsid– Byzantine diplomatic exchanges in the early and middle ‘Abbāsid periods. They contain interesting and valuable information on the methods the two powers used in their diplomatic interaction that is often not mentioned elsewhere. They shed light on diplomatic processes and reflect on the problems encountered with the study of ‘Abbāsid–Byzantine diplomatic exchanges. The remainder of the present chapter documents the research on the study of ‘Abbāsid–Byzantine diplomatic exchanges and provides a commentary on the ‘Abbāsid–Byzantine accounts described by Ibn al-Farrā’. These are presented in a chronological order according to caliphal reigns.
The accounts of ‘Abbāsid–Byzantine exchanges
The first half of the ‘Abbāsid caliphate (132–334/750–946) comprised one of the most glorious Arab dynasties of Islam. Its power was strongly felt and widely exercised.1 The caliphate’s traditional enemy was the Byzantine empire with its rival ideology and political system. In their struggle for supremacy the two powers fought each other with great force and determination. Yet, throughout their continuous military confrontation, there was always room for dialogue and communication.2 It has been maintained that the collapse of the jihād state of the Prophet and the early caliphs which took place in the reign of the Umayyad3 caliph Hishām b. ‘Abd al-Malik (105–25/724–43) in the 730s brought to an end the era of Arab conquest. With the establishment of the ‘Abbāsid caliphal capital in Baghdād, far from the Byzantine–Arab frontier, the ‘Abbāsids made it clear that they had abandoned their predecessors’ aspirations to conquer the Byzantine empire. The development of ‘Abbāsid–Byzantine diplomatic activity lies in the nature of ‘Abbāsid warfare, which did not aim at conquest but had a local character and was focused on the frontier (al-thughūr) stretching along the mountains of Taurus and Anti-Taurus (see Map 1).4 The aim of warfare was power and prestige rather than territorial gain. Hence, military encounters were typically followed by diplomatic exchanges at the frontier to arrange temporary truces and to exchange prisoners. This feature determined the character of ‘Abbāsid–Byzantine diplomatic interaction.5 In addition, parallel to the signing of truces, a convergence of intellectual concerns from the ninth century extended diplomatic exchanges to other areas of contact. Diplomatic activity increased from the mid-third/ninth century, becoming a court affair. It reached a form of maturity in the tenth century when competition over the pageantry of the ceremonies and rituals of power led to the development of a diplomatic culture based on an agreed framework of principles and values.6 Among scholars, Marius Canard, who has worked on individual episodes of Byzantine–Muslim and Byzantine–‘Abbāsid diplomacy, deserves credit for drawing attention to the peaceful aspect of Byzantine–‘Abbāsid interaction. A valuable work on the diplomatic, political and military events of the third/ninth to fourth/tenth centuries with French translations of Arabic sources is Byzance et les Arabes by Vasiliev and Canard. Kennedy’s article on Byzantine–Muslim diplomacy highlights the phases and character of Byzantine–‘Abbāsid diplomatic activity. Another useful source of reference for this period is Dölger’s list of diplomatic exchanges. And finally, issues with the interpretation of Arabic accounts and Arab perceptions of the Byzantines have been discussed by el-Cheikh.7 The translation of a number of Arabic and Byzantine sources and the studies on certain aspects of ‘Abbāsid–Byzantine diplomatic interaction have contributed to our better understanding of the subject.8 The Rusul al-mulūk’s accounts of ‘Abbāsid–Byzantine diplomatic exchanges are merely anecdotes, which were relevant to specific episodes but are presented without any context. It should be stressed that, although the largest body of evidence on ‘Abbāsid–Byzantine diplomatic exchanges derives mainly from Arabic sources with al-Ṭabarī’s ‘History’ the most informative, supplementary evidence comes from diverse backgrounds and traditions in the form of caliphal histories, letters, biographies, biographical dictionaries, diplomatic treatises, histories of wazīrs and secretaries, poetry and court ceremonies. As shown in the footnotes, Ibn al-Farrā’’s evidence can be corroborated with other sources such as literary accounts that derive from the ḥadīth literature, the Sīra of the Prophet, nubuwwa literature, adab literature, administrative and geographical works, mirrors for princes, and other works of general culture. These make the reliability and interpretation of accounts subject to the nature and aim of each work. Hence, the question of methodology and the interpretation of the accounts becomes acute.9 The anecdotal character of the accounts has induced some scholars to reject them as fictitious while others have seen them more favourably. In the light of Miquel’s discussion of the difficulties involved in the interpretation of the geographical literature, it can be argued that we should be cautious about using anecdotal accounts as evidence for ‘Abbāsid–Byzantine diplomatic interaction, as they may reflect aspects of an internal caliphal agenda. However, as Canard points out, the accounts can be viewed as evidence for diplomatic activity that indicates ways in which each power perceived the other. El-Cheikh suggests that the anecdotal accounts, regardless of the backgrounds of their writers, represent views that have to be taken into account: “what we are concerned with here is not what was true, it is what the Muslims wrote and what their audiences believed to be true … in the end actions are more often than not based on such beliefs”.10 The anecdotal accounts of the Rusul al-mulūk are treated here as testimonies on Muslim perceptions of certain traits of ‘Abbāsid–Byzantine diplomatic activity. Testimonies which on the whole positively evaluate Byzantine envoys, who are praised for their eloquence and intelligence, and are held up as examples to be emulated.11 They also exhibit an interest in Byzantine diplomatic practices. The accounts discuss matters usually not found in historical sources, supplying what may be termed ‘para-historical material’ for the subject. References to the aims of embassies are made not in terms of the signing of treaties, as described by official historiography, but rather in terms of other issues including the need to know the opponent’s strength, living conditions, rules, customs, the manners in his court, the way the ruler exercises power, if his subjects are happy with the ruler or not, and whether the ruler takes care of state affairs. At other times they shed light on historical events, for example the account of the Byzantine embassy sent to the ‘Abbāsid caliph al-Mu‘taṣim to request an exchange of prisoners. Ibn al-Farrā’ provides quotations of written sources such as the Sīrat al-Manṣūr, Sīrat al-Ma’mūn and Sīrat al-Mu‘taṣim (‘biographies of the caliphs al-Manṣūr, al-Ma’mūn and al-Mu‘taṣim’), and other authorities, but the identification of these sources is not always clear.12 One should always be aware that such material might not represent a homogeneous view, but may reflect divergent tendencies. The author also attempts to exploit information about the Byzantines for propaganda purposes to legitimize Muslim practices. Reading the accounts it is clear that the Byzantine messengers, as the representatives of the empire, are regarded as a threat in the diplomatic arena. Ibn al-Farrā’ does not want to give his audiences the impression that their opponent can be defeated easily, and thus he could not present the Byzantines as being weaker than the Muslims. Effectively dealing with all elements of Byzantine messengers, as representatives of the empire, brought a symbolic victory over the opponent on all grounds. Muslim messengers also had to be able to show their quality, so both groups had to be proven worthy of the designation ‘envoy’ and uphold an accepted code. Only when this occurred would a victory over the Byzantine envoys bring glory.
The period of al-Manṣūr (136–158/754–775)
In scholarship, Byzantine–‘Abbāsid relations in the period of the caliph al-Manṣūr have been mainly viewed in the context of warfare. The picture of diplomatic activity that we have from the sources is limited to brief references to frontier warfare. Kennedy, for example, in his article ‘Byzantine–Arab diplomacy’ mentions no diplomatic exchanges during this period, placing the first diplomatic contact in the context of Hārūn al-Rashīd’s campaign in Byzantine territory in the year 166/782. On the other hand, Bury and Gutas refer to the exchanges of embassies in the period of al-Manṣūr, stressing the cultural implications of embassies.1 Embassies to both the imperial and the caliphal courts took place for a number of reasons other than to sign peace treaties to exchange prisoners and pay ransom. They also took place, for example, on the occasion of the accession of the ruler to power, to dispatch gifts, to call upon the emperors to embrace Islam, to achieve cultural aims, or simply to conduct routine missions involving the delivering of official letters. A number of these exchanges had a theological2 nature, which is also attested to in the official correspondence the Byzantines exchanged with the caliphs from the Umayyad period onwards. In the ninth and tenth centuries, the Byzantine envoys were engaged in disputations with sages in the ‘Abbāsid court, refuting critiques of Christianity and conveying the emperor’s Christian stance. The messengers’ role abroad was facilitated by their knowledge of rhetoric, an integral part of which was the ‘ethos’ of messengers, which was shaped by their role as representatives of the Christian Byzantine emperor, who acted in memesis of their ruler.3 The aim was not to convert the ‘Abbāsids, but rather to prove the emperor’s authority as a champion of the Christians, thereby securing recognition of the emperor as head of the Christian world. Anecdotal accounts of the period of al-Manṣūr speak of existing cultural exchanges between the Byzantines and ‘Abbāsids and the transmission of influences. The Graeco–Arabic translation movement initiated by al-Manṣūr was related to the ‘Abbāsid aspiration to claim the heritage of civilizations of the past, based on the collection and translation of the knowledge of their ancestors. The appreciation of ancient Greek science and wisdom through Arabic translations led the Muslims to depreciate Byzantine ability in the intellectual domain. Yet, the Arabs always acknowledged the Byzantines as a repository of ancient knowledge, as can be seen in a number of anecdotes where the caliphs ask the Byzantines for manuscripts to be translated and by the fact that books were exchanged as diplomatic gifts. This duality, this sense of their having a mixture of repulsion, and at the same time an attraction and desire for appropriation, dominated Arab Muslim attitudes towards Byzantine intellectual achievements in the ‘Abbāsid period. This is demonstrated in Ibn al-Faqīh’s (d. ca. 289/902) account of ‘Umāra b. Ḥamza’s (d. 198/814) embassy to Constantinople (ca. 138/756). ‘Umāra was a prominent individual in the ‘Abbāsid court, who expressed contempt for the emperor Constantine V’s (741–75) comments on the medicinal value of trees and plants, claiming the existence in the caliphate of superior knowledge on these matters. Yet the embassy led to the transmission of alchemical arts to the caliphate after the emperor’s explanation of the diplomatic techniques he used during ‘Umāra’s visit.4 Similarly, as illustrated by the story of the prominent Byzantine scientist Leo the Mathematician (d. after 869), who was invited by the caliph al-Ma’mūn to go to the caliphate, the competition for superiority had been explicit since the ninth century, with the Byzantines, as successors of the ancients, claiming to be the repository of ancient knowledge. This competition intensified in later periods due to Muslim scientific advances and the Byzantine revival of classical studies and education.5 This notion of competition in the intellectual arena is implied in Ibn al-Farrā’’s accounts where the Byzantine envoys are described as highly intelligent and with a reputation for successfully refuting the caliph’s arguments. This is conveyed through the author’s tenth-century perceptions. Concerning the period of al-Manṣūr, the Rusul al-mulūk describes two accounts of Byzantine embassies dispatched to the caliphal court, praising the Byzantine envoys’ eloquence and intelligence and stressing the caliph’s successful encounter with them. The first account is corroborated by al-Ṭabarī (d. 310/923) and al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī (d. 463/1071), and the second by al-Jahshiyārī (d. 331/942).6 Both accounts are normative, expressing political wisdom and stressing some of the attributes of the ideal messenger; intelligence, eloquence, and taking the initiative to advise the ruler/caliph on various issues. One should be aware in these narratives of topoi, that is, stereotyped formal elements that are unlikely to be historically reliable. Notable examples of these include speeches exchanged by envoys and caliphs, descriptions of displays of wealth, and accounts of envoys’ tours of the city of Baghdād. The first account tells how al-Manṣūr asked the opinion of the Byzantine envoy about the newly-founded city of Baghdād after he had been taken on a tour of its public buildings. The Byzantine envoy’s comments on the position of the markets in the city and the danger which they posed to the caliph’s interests resulted in the caliph’s decision to transfer them from the city to the suburb of al-Karkh. This account, similar to the second despite its anecdotal nature, shows, as Bury says, that the Muslims were receptive to Byzantine influences. Byzantine envoys also, as el-Cheikh has argued, played the role of a legitimizing device in Arab texts. Similarly, in Ibn al-Farrā’’s accounts, the advisory role of the Byzantine envoys (al-rūmī, al-‘ilj) is a key factor in the legitimation of al-Manṣūr and his capital, Baghdād. The importance of Byzantine envoys stems from the fact that they were representatives of the empire, the chief rival of the caliphate at the time of the embassy and for centuries to come. It was with them that responsibility lay for recognizing the role of the first ‘Abbāsid caliph and the importance of his newly-founded city of Baghdād. With their advice to the caliph the envoys acknowledged the caliph’s role in planning and making decisions of important issues of ‘Abbāsid policies in relation to urban changes. The second account tells how the Byzantine envoy, after he had been taken on a tour of the city of Baghdād, commented to the caliph’s wazīr al-Rabī‘ b.Yūnus (d. 169/785–6 or 170/786) that his only critical observation of the city concerned the people he had seen begging for charity. The wazīr attributed this to the lack of finances from the public treasury for their sustenance. When this reply reached the caliph’s attention his explanation was different: he attributed this not to a lack of finance, but to his expectation that the needy would be provided for by the people of the city through their giving of alms so that they could gain divine reward. This answer, referring to almsgiving as a religious duty of Muslims, legitimized the caliph’s role as defender of Muslim principles and carer for the welfare of the people of his realm.
The account also reveals an interest in the gestures of Byzantine envoys, such as the when the envoy putt the tips of his thumb and fore–finger together, making a circle, the sign for thirty. The gesture means ‘O.K.’ or ‘good!’, and was followed by the Greek word kalon, meaning ‘good’, which the envoy uttered in approval of the caliph’s words. Its use in the original Greek is probably dictated by the language spoken by the envoys during their diplomatic missions to the caliphate. In both accounts, the envoys’ speeches give insights into their character and disposition, and show how they dealt with a range of ethical challenges. These speeches are fictional, and there are similar examples in the literature of late antiquity and early Islamic period.7 Such speeches stress the importance of the skill in rhetoric, which, along with the notion of ‘rhetorical balance’— to praise both their own and the host’s affairs as well as to improvise—is emphasized in the tenth-century source Peri Presbeon. 8 Both accounts, despite their anecdotal nature, indicate that the Muslims were receptive to Byzantine influences in the diplomatic realm. They testify to the Muslim acknowledgment of Byzantine expertise in urban design and appreciation of the Byzantine exposition of the ruler’s conduct, a theme which is discussed in the rest of the accounts concerning the period of al-Mu‘taṣim. The accounts provide reliable evidence of ceremonial practices, the names of those participating in the exchanges, and the function of the city of Baghdād all of which can be corroborated by other sources.
The period of Hārūn al-Rashīd (170–93/786–809) Scholarship describes Byzantine–‘Abbāsid exchanges in the reigns of al-Mahdī (158–70/775–86) and Hārūn al-Rashīd mainly in the context of intense frontier warfare which aimed at demonstrating prestige rather than establishing permanent control. Despite the state of jihād, both powers often resorted to diplomacy when seeking to put an end to hostilities. The lack of any independent study on the subject, with the exception of the specialized works of Canard and Kennedy, among others, makes reliance on secondary literature problematic. The dating of the signing and breaking of truces is controversial, as the lack of agreement of different sources leads to conflicting interpretations.1 For the period of Hārūn al-Rashīd, Ibn al-Farrā’ quotes the exchange of letters between the emperor Nicephorus (802–11) and Hārūn al-Rashīd in the year 187/803.2 This exchange can be corroborated by al-Ṭabarī and other historical Arabic sources. In his letter Nicephorus allegedly broke the previous truce signed between the empress Irene (797–802) and Hārūn, and demanded
the return of the tribute that Irene had paid. His provocative attitude led to Hārūn al-Rashīd’s insulting reply, which resulted in the capture of Heraclea in 187/803 and the emperor’s payment of a new tribute. The issues of the historicity of the letters and the relationship between Nicephorus’s letter and the capture of Heraclea are complicated by the contradictory information in the primary sources. Brooks and Canard doubt the historicity of the letters, and regard the story of the peace with Irene as an Arab invention. Brooks says that the ninth century Byzantine historian Theophanes (wr. bet. 810 and 814) would scarcely have failed to mention Nicephorus’s blunder. Bury is also sceptical about the story of the letters, and without doubt Ibn al-Farrā’’s accounts of letters, like al-Ṭabarī’s, are problematic, since he refers to these in a vague way and provides neither the date nor the reason for Nicephorus’s breach of the truce.3 The twelfth century historian Michael the Syrian refers to Nicephorus’ letter as the reason for Hārūn’s campaign in 803 but does not relate it to the capture of Heraclea. He says that both rulers prepared for war but eventually they made peace and exchanged presents. It is highly unlikely that Nicephorus undertook an expedition at this time as he would have been prevented by the rebellion of the strategus Bardanes4 (d. after 804) and the sitution remained unaltered until the year 806 when the caliph attacked and captured Heraclea. One should also be aware of the literary forms of letters and their functions. The tendency to introduce letters as pseudo–causes in order to carry the narrative forward obscures the true causal links between events. When information is corroborated by other reports, letters should serve as indicators of whether norms are mirrored in their contents.5 Even if the story of the letters is an invention, their alleged contents do show an awareness of the contemporary situation. For example, Nicephorus’s ‘breach of previous arrangements’ reflects his known adoption of a more aggressive policy than that of his predecessor, Irene, towards the Arabs. His criticism of Irene’s payment of tribute to the Arabs is consistent with the financial measures he is known to have taken to curtail expenditure in the empire. As with the accounts of the exchange of letters, the account of Hārūn’s capture of Heraclea calls for scepticism. Many of the links in the chain of events leading up to the capture of Heraclea are presented by means of particles such as wa (‘and’), fa (‘and so’), leaving the historian ignorant of the time lapse between events, which could suggest that the compilers were unaware of the correct chronological sequence and the ‘causes’ of the events they were transmitting.6 In addition it was hardly possible for Hārūn to have undertaken the campaign on the very day he received Nicephorus’s letter. Moreover, the caliph’s image as a moral champion of Islam who avenged the offence caused by Nicephorus’s breach of the truce is conveyed through tenth-century perceptions of his reign as a model worthy of imitation, typifying a golden age, in which the state is shown as an effective administrative structure, reflecting an affirmation of aspects of the caliphate’s identity.7 The importance of the account lies in its depiction of the caliph’s adopting the role of ghāzī–caliph (‘warrior’) for his personal participation in the campaign against Heraclea in the year 806 with the aim of promoting his image as a champion of Islam against his traditional enemy.8 The account refers to the signing of a peace treaty with the Byzantines in the aftermath of the caliph’s victorious campaign. Peace treaties with non–Muslims were of limited duration, as the permanent state of relations was one of warfare. In this case the treaty was particularly humiliating because the emperor was forced to pay tribute (kharāj) and a poll tax (jizya) and to become dhimmī, a subject of the caliph.9 Hārūn’s success demonstrated the caliphate’s subjugation of the empire and, to the delight of his panegyrists, justified his religious authority at home as a defender of Islam.
The period of al-Ma’mūn (198–218/813–833) The topic of diplomatic relations during the period of al-Ma’mūn has been covered in detail by Vasiliev, Canard, Bury, and Treadgold, mainly in the context of Byzantine–‘Abbāsid military relations and the caliph’s adoption of the role of ghāzī–caliph. A number of specialized studies by Canard, Rosser and Magdalino have shed light on some other issues of diplomatic interaction.1 Ibn al-Farrā’’s account is situated in the context of the caliph’s successful campaigns against the Byzantine empire: it must be viewed within the framework of the caliph’s adoption of the role of ghāzī–caliph, which is related to his attempts to restore caliphal authority at the military level after the civil war.2 In addition, the caliph initiated the miḥna, his claim to the right not only to enforce, but also to interpret the law, undermining the power of the religious scholars. Crone has indicated that the initiation of the miḥna was aimed at restoring the Umayyad concept of the caliphate.3 This corresponds to al-Ma’mūn’s plan to wage continuous jihād in order to lay siege to Constantinople. The account of Ibn al-Farrā’, which does not feature in other sources, is a piece of stereotypical diplomatic folklore, and refers to an embassy allegedly sent by the caliph to Constantinople to inspect Muslim prisoners.4 This is a theme in the Byzantine and Arabic literature of the period, where both powers are invariably portrayed as caring for their prisoners. The account of al-Ma’mūn’s embassy, with the aim of visiting the Muslim prisoners in the empire who were living in conditions of poverty and distress, corresponds to the concern of the patriarch of Constantinople John VII the Grammarian (d. bef. 867) that Byzantine prisoners should live in conditions of comfort, as illustrated in a Byzantine account of the embassy of 214/829 to Baghdād. The account of the embassy is followed by a poem, recited by a prisoner and has a propagandistic effect, reflecting on the bad conditions in Byzantine prisons and leading to the caliph’s immediate expedition against the empire. The caliph, as God’s deputy on earth who cares for His religion and subjects, strives for the maintenance of the religion of God and the conduct of jihād. He is portrayed as defender of Islam through the projection of his image as a fighter who will wage jihād to avenge the Byzantines’ unfair treatment of Muslim prisoners.5 The existence of similar accounts of diplomatic activity during this period in different contexts, which are coupled with fictitious elements, counsels scepticism concerning questions of authenticity, dating and the interpretation of the aim of these exchanges.6 In this case, one should take into consideration the historical circumstances depicted in the accounts, and compare the nature of the available source material, in order to establish the proper historical context in general. The authenticity of letters and speeches must always be viewed with scepticism.
The period of al-Mu‘taṣim (218–227/833–842) Vasiliev, Canard, Bury and Treadgold discuss diplomatic exchanges during this period in the general context of Byzantine–‘Abbāsid military relations. Arabic, Syriac and Byzantine sources describe diplomatic exchanges in the form of the dispatch of embassies and letters to the caliph al-Mu‘taṣim prior to and after al-Mu‘taṣim’s campaign against the city of Amorium in 838.1 The siege and sack of Amorium, which receives a prominent place in the sources was much celebrated among panegyrists and resulted in the capture of many Byzantine notables, including tagmatic officers.2 For the period of al-Mu‘taṣim, Ibn al-Farrā’ provides five accounts of diplomatic exchanges that took place between the two courts, supplementing our picture of the exchanges described by historical sources mainly in the context of the caliph as ghāzī-caliph in his expedition against Amorium. Four of these accounts are not mentioned in any other sources, primary or secondary. They are presented in chapters eighteen, and twenty, as illustrative examples of how the envoys, with their eloquence and rhetoric, enhanced the status of their ruler abroad, and as examples of the failure of correspondence between the two rulers.
The first account of the Byzantine embassy is drawn from the book Taṣfiyat al-adhhān (‘The Gist of Minds’) on the authority of the wazīr al-Faḍl b. Marwān (218–21/833–6) who reported it from the wazīr of al-Mu‘taṣim.3 This refers to Ibn al-Zayyāt (d. 232/847), who was wazīr during the period between 218–7/833–42, and possibly took place after the year 836, when al-Faḍl lost his office of the wazīr, and is not described as related to any specific aim. This account is also partly transmitted through the words of the interpreter of the messenger of the king of Abyssinia, who was present at the time of a Byzantine embassy to the caliphal court, and witnessed the verbal encounter between Ibn al-Zayyāt and the messenger.4 The wazīr refers to the customary practice of the messengers’ bringing of gifts to his office for the caliph.5 He then describes his discussion with the envoy and, similarly to those in the other accounts, there is information on the topics the envoys were conversant with. For example they spoke of the conduct of their kings (sīrat mulūkuhum) and mentioned stories about their great leaders (akhbār ‘uẓamāhum), or gave an exposition of the duties of their rulers towards their people and of the rulers’ virtues. Here, in the envoy’s speech, the Byzantine emperors are praised for their righteousness, justice, piety, philanthropy, generosity and intelligence, common values that are also shared by Muslims, as seen, for example, in the advice literature which stresses the importance of these qualities for the rulers conduct. The envoy’s emphasis on the moral values of justice, compassion and generosity as the cornerstones of effective rulership conforms to tenth-century Byzantine imperial ideology as expressed in the letters of the patriarch of Constantinople Nicholas Mysticus (d. 925) to the ‘Abbāsid caliph al-Muqtadir (295–320/908–32). It also shows that the ‘Abbāsids were aware of Byzantine political theory, and that the two societies shared common ideals.6 The second and third accounts are drawn from the Sīrat al-Mu‘taṣim. The first of these records the talk between an Arab envoy and the Byzantine emperor and no specific aim is mentioned.7 It stresses the Arab envoy’s successful encounter with the emperor,8 which was focused on an exposition of the role and function of the office of a messenger in the caliphate, arguing that messengers were endowed with a high moral and social status. In his brief speech the envoy enumerates the social categories present in the caliphate, echoing Persian ideals, and describes the messenger’s duties to the caliph. The significance of the office of messengers in the Muslim world, is demonstrated by the fact that the envoy assigns to his role third place in the caliphate, after the military (jaysh) and the judiciary (qaḍā’). Among the qualities mentioned as required for the office are honesty and accuracy in delivering the ruler’s message to other kings. The envoys’ function as representatives of their ruler in their undertaking, a theme that recurs throughout the book, is also prominent. The social description of the caliphate bolsters the legitimacy of the caliph and validates the office and role of messengers in the caliphate. The other account describes a Byzantine embassy sent to the caliph seeking the return of the high ranking Byzantine officials held captive in Amorium through an exchange of prisoners, the payment of ransom and the offering of gifts (hadāyā).9 Similarly to the first, this account illustrates features of court diplomatic processes. The wazīr’s reception of gifts and discussions with envoys; the envoys’ delivery of imperial letters to the wazīr; the latter’s acknowledgement and handing back of the letters to the envoys sealed;10 his arranging of meetings for the envoys prior to their audience with the caliph; the practice of the descriptive list of gifts11 which was often attached to diplomatic letters; and the delay12 before the envoys see the caliph, all imply the formalized nature of diplomatic practices in the caliphal court from the middle of the ninth century, as seen for example in the ceremonial role of the wazīr, especially in later years and best illustrated in the account of the Byzantine embassy to Baghdād in 917. These features can be seen in other accounts in this book and corroborated by additional accounts of this period, which depict, for example, the procedure of dispatching and receiving envoys, the choice of envoys, their carrying of letters and gifts, the negotiation for the signing of peace treaties for exchanges of prisoners, all this highlighting the fact that both powers operated in a framework of shared practices and norms of behaviour. Similarly to other accounts, Ibn al-Farrā’, sheds light on the verbal encounter between the Byzantine envoy and the caliph. The envoy is praised for his witty and intelligent answer to the caliph’s remark on the potential harm that the delay in the caliphal court could have caused the messenger. The messenger’s reply, in the form of practical wisdom on the benefits of delay, legitimized the caliphal authority through the comment that his proximity to the caliph makes him witness God’s blessings. Al-Munajjid accepts the historicity of the embassy, on the basis of the fact that it can be placed in a specific context, after the fall of Amorium, and involves the offer of concrete peace proposals. The idea of the payment of ransom (fidya) for the exchanges of prisoners corresponds to other ninth-and tenth-century accounts of exchanges of embassies which sought the conclusion of treaties for the ransoming of prisoners.13 In particular, details in Ibn al-Farrā’’s account of this embassy corresponds to those in the account by twelfh century historian Michael the Syrian (d. 1199) of the Byzantine embassy of 841, which sought on behalf of the emperor Theophilus to exchange prisoners, conclude peace with the caliph and exchange valuable gifts. This took place after the Byzantine victory, capturing Ḥadath (Adata) and occupying Mar‘ash (Germanicea) and part of Melitene in 841. The caliph, also engaged in that time in combat with various rebels within the caliphate, especially the general Afshīn (d. 841), gave a good reception to the envoy in the circumstances. Vasiliev calls the embassy an “exchange of politeness” or “courtesies”.14 There is no evidence, however, that al-Mu‘taṣim accepted the request for peace in exchange for prisoners, although he is mentioned as having accepted the gifts. According to Michael the Syrian’s account, the embassy returned with 50 camels bearing munificent gifts and peace was established, but there is no evidence of an exchange of prisoners from other sources. Neither al-Mas‘ūdī (d. 345/956) nor al-Maqrīzī (d. 845/1442), who report even unofficial exchanges during the ‘Abbāsid period, mention this exchange. It also seems unlikely, if there had been such an exchange, that the emperor would not have rescued the captives of Amorium who were executed in 845. Ibn al-Farrā’’s account describes the content of an imperial letter delivered to the wazīr Ibn al-Zayyāt, requesting an exchange of prisoners and the release of the high-ranking Byzantine officials held captive by al-Mu‘taṣim after the sack of the city in 838. The authenticity of this letter15 is doubtful, as it cannot be corroborated by other evidence. Michael the Syrian, describing the embassy of 841, mentions no correspondence exchanged between the two rulers. Munajjid accepts the historicity on the letter, on the basis that it refers to concrete realities such as the sack of Amorium in 838, the request for exchange of prisoners, and testifies to the capture of high-ranking prisoners. The characteristics of the letter, as described, conform to those of official ‘diplomatic’ letters in the tenth century, dealing with issues such as friendship and peace and the superiority of peace to war, and emphasizing ethical standards common to the Byzantines and the ‘Abbāsids and their communication on equal terms. It is also described as including details characteristic of the ceremonial of embassies, for example the descriptive list of gifts mentioned as attached to the letter, which can be corroborated by other Arabic accounts of the tenth century. The aim of embassies was not only to negotiate, but to compete with the opponent in the projection of power and prestige, through the ostentatious bestowal of gifts. This giving of precious objects is described by Byzantine sources with regard to for the embassy of 829, showing the competitive response that the superior wealth of the ‘Abbāsids provoked among the Byzantines. The bestowal of gifts was part not only of the politics of bedazzlement and court ritual, but also of the useful projection of power, to the extent that it exhibited knowledge of the other’s preferences and values. Ceremonial exchanges, in the form of precious gifts and letters, instigating competition for the possession of rare artistic objects as symbols of power, encouraged the development of mutual respect between the two powers and formed part of a common courtly behaviour which was fully developed by the tenth century. The present account indicates some part of this process, formulated in tenthcentury diplomatic exchanges and using similar descriptive terms to those mentioned in the tenth-century sources, thus making clear a commonality of behaviour, with the Byzantines being aware of ‘Abbāsid preferences and vice versa. 16 The account of the request for an exchange of prisoners is followed by an account of a discussion between the Byzantine envoy and the wazīr Ibn al-Zayyāt about taxes. The wazīr contrasts the wealth of the caliphate with the poverty of the Byzantine empire, a topos which occurs in Arabic accounts for this period.17 This remark is followed by the envoy’s exposition of his views on the Byzantine practice of tax collection, arguing that the Byzantines levied taxes in a just way based upon the need to touch the interests of people and contrasting this with the unjust Muslim way and their disregard for the welfare of the people. The account has a propagandistic purpose, seeking to emphasize ‘Abbāsid superiority in financial matters vis à vis the Byzantines by contrasting Byzantine tax collection practices with those of the Muslims. The counter-argument for the legitimization of Muslim practices of governance, such as tax collection, is provided by the author’s ensuing exposition of Byzantine versus Muslim social and cultural practices. The last account is included in chapter twenty and is an anecdotal account of exchanges of letters between the emperor Bāsīl b. Ilyūn (‘son of Leo’) and al-Mu‘taṣim, describing the negative consequences of hasty and imprudent correspondence.18 The account tells how the emperor Bāsīl—this probably refers to the emperor Theophilus, since Basil I (867–86) ruled much later— allegedly sent a letter to al-Mu‘taṣim in which he ignored the correct protocol for addressing the caliph and instead used insults, leasing to the caliph’s immediate retaliatory military expedition against the empire. This account, which is corroborated by later sources such as Qalqashandī (d.821/1418), al-Nuwayrī (d. 732/1332), Ibn Kathīr (d. 774/1373), and al-Suyūṭī (d. 911/1505), is described in the context of similar failures of correspondence between caliphs and emperors and vice verca, specifically between the Umayyad caliph Hishām b. ‘Abd al-Malik and the emperor, and between Nicephorus and Hārūn al-Rashīd, which in both cases resulted in military action. The lack of respect for each other’s authority illustrated in the improper address used in this official correspondence is a topos in the diplomatic accounts for the ‘Abbāsid period and is frequently mentioned as the motive for military campaigns such as those of al-Ma’mūn against the empire.
Author The author of the Rusul al-mulūk is Abū ‘Alī al-Ḥusayn b. Muḥammad, known as Ibn al-Farrā’. His name is mentioned on the title page of all the manuscripts. There are also references to his name in the text, as “al-Ḥusayn b. Muḥammad said”.1 References to Ibn al-Farrā’ are preserved in the biographical dictionary of the Andalusian scholar Abū ‘Abd Allāh al-Ḥumaydī (d. 491/1100 or 488/1097). He is also mentioned by al-Ḍabbī (d. 599/1203) and al-Sam‘ānī (d. 562/1166).2 Al-Ḥumaydī mentions that a certain al-Ḥusayn b. Muḥammad al-Kātib Abū al-Walīd, known as Ibn al-Farrā’, was a great man of letters (shaykh min shuyūkh ahl al-adab, shaykhan kabīran) and a contemporary of Abū ‘Umar b. Darrāj and Abū ‘Āmir b. Shuhayd (d. 426/1035).3 He adds that Ibn al-Farrā’ ceases to be mentioned after 440/1050. In addition, al-Sam‘ānī refers to Abū al-Walīd al-Ḥusayn b. Muḥammad al-Kātib al-Andalusī al-Qurṭubī, known in literary circles (min ahl al-adab) as Ibn al-Farrā’. He states that this information was passed on to him by Abū ‘Umar b. Darrāj and Abū ‘Āmir b. Shuhayd, both mentioned by al-Ḥumaydī, and by others before them. Various other references are found in the biographical books I have seen,4 but none corresponds exactly to the name as mentioned in the manuscripts. Thus, like al-Munajjid, we are inclined to consider as strongest the evidence identifying the author with al-Ḥusayn b. Muḥammad al-Kātib al-Andalusī al-Qurṭubī, mentioned by al-Ḥumaydī and al-Sam‘ānī.
Date No Muslim writer has discussed Rusul al-mulūk or its author. No autograph manuscript exists and we do not know how long after their occurrence events were recorded. Therefore, the date of composition of the treatise must be estimated from internal criteria. Its preface and epilogue indicate clearly that Rusul al-mulūk was written in response to the order of a man of great culture, possibly a ruler, for the purposes of instruction. Judging by the sources Ibn al-Farrā’ uses in the text, and by its style and the detailed statement on the Byzantines (al-Rūm), the work was almost certainly written in the fourth/tenth century (ca. 950–1000). Firstly, the latest named source in the text is Abū Zayd al-Balkhī (d. 322/934); secondly, the use of abridgements (mukhtaṣar) as seen in this text did not appear before the fourth/ tenth century; and thirdly, as al-Munajjid states, the style of writing is fluent, cheerful, selective and rhetorical, and this beautiful, concise and eloquent style was no longer found after the fourth/tenth century.1 Another indication of the date of the treatise lies in its similarities to al-Baṣā’ir wa’l dhakhā’ir, a thesaurus of quotations and anecdotes on a variety of subjects composed between 961 and 975 by Abū Ḥayyān Tawḥīdī (d. 414/1023). Ibn al-Farrā’ and Tawḥīdī take material from the same authors, in particular from al-Balkhī’s K. al-Siyāsa, ps.-Jāḥiẓ’s (d. 255/868) K. akhlāq al-mulūk, the biography of the famous faqīh (‘religious lawyer’) al-Sha‘bī (d. 103/721), the Sīrat al-Manṣūr, Sīrat al-Ma’mūn, and Sīrat al-Mu‘taṣim, sayings from Plato and Aristotle, or Greek philosophers or Arab scholars and poets. Both Ibn al-Farrā’ and Tawḥīdī quote their sources, and they share a common interest in the exposition of ethical sayings and anecdotes ascribed to famous personalities of the past, as was common in adab works of the time.2 However, al-Tawḥīdī’s work is more extensive than Ibn al-Farrā’’s and covers a later period, lasting until the reign of al-Muqtadir. Ibn al-Farrā’ has a discussion on the Byzantines that reflects the realities of the tenth century described in the context of a Byzantine embassy to the caliphate and the envoy’s argument about the advantages of the Byzantine way of collecting tax (kharāj) over the Muslim. It takes the form of the author’s own reply to the wazīr Ibn al-Zayyāt after Ibn al-Zayyāt’s failure to respond to the Byzantine envoy. In his long account of the Byzantines, the author describes their habits and comments on their clothing, furniture and food, showing great deal of interest in these. His use of the first person (qad kuntu ‘arifu, la-‘amrī, ‘alimtu) and the detailed description suggest that he may have been an eyewitness to the events.3 The author uses anti-Byzantine propaganda to help the audience identify itself and its superiority. Ibn al-Farrā’ is trying to raise Muslim morale by showing how different, and (despite some skills and attainments) how inferior, the Byzantines were as a people and a culture. He defines Muslim identity through awareness of the ‘other’ with the empire as the model with which the caliphate is compared and to which it is related.4 Throughout the account Byzantine–Muslim rivalry is present in a cultural, intellectual, artistic and social context viewed in terms of superiority/inferiority, a concept that makes sense for the tenth century. The same notion is explicit in this period’s accounts of diplomatic exchanges, where there is a level of awareness of Byzantine practices, and competition for superiority was focused on the same spheres. The author begins with an appreciation of the Byzantines’ artistic skills and craftsmanship, a topos found in the early Arabic–Islamic sources, echoing a tradition going back to al-Jāḥiẓ and Ibn al-Faqīh. He goes on to criticize the Byzantines for their lack of principles and values, and for their customs. The Byzantines are portrayed as cowards who were scared of war as a result of a moral and cultural decline in the conduct of their affairs. A life of comfort had deprived them of their strength and their softness made them refrain from battle. The author denigrates the political and military authority of the ruler whose inability to extract revenues further exacerbated the Byzantines’ lack of courage in war. This statement may indicate a recognition of contemporary realities, as the Byzantines in the tenth century were on the offensive, and the aim, since victory was not very likely, was to boost Muslim morale. The author urges the Muslims to fight and defeat the Byzantines by quoting a verse from the Qur’ān, thus legitimisizing the role of the religion in the conduct of jihād. Ibn al-Farrā’ portrays the Muslims as brave and much more likely than the Byzantines to be victorious. He makes clear that right is on the Muslims’ side referring to God’s sanctioning of their victories and to how such victories highlight the prowess of the Muslim forces and the superiority of the Muslim army.5 There was also competition between the two societies in other spheres, such as those of justice and good life. The author refers to defections of Byzantines to the caliphate, where they enjoyed high positions and fair treatment. These were a frequent phenomenon in tenth-century relations between the empire and the caliphate, and suggest that the two powers competed also on a social level. This fact is also attested to in the examples of social integration of Muslim prisoners in the empire, and vice versa, found in this period.6 The Byzantines are further criticized for their administration of justice, such as in the collection of revenue. The rulers are unable to curb the power of landowners to use the tax revenues for their own purposes, and taxation has become a form tyranny. The author stresses the contrasting exemplary conduct of Muslim rulers, seen in their concern for justice in their policy on the collection of the kharāj and its use for proper purposes for the support of the people. This account which aims to morally legitimize Muslim practices, corresponds nevertheless to tenth-century political realities, as Ibn al-Farrā’ alludes to the problems the empire was facing in trying to control the power of the dynatoi (‘powerful landowners’).7 Ibn al-Farrā’’s remarks on the stupidity of the Byzantines and their lack of knowledge exemplify the notion of Muslim intellectual superiority vis-à-vis the Byzantines, which is explicit, for example, in the tenth-century account of ‘Umāra b. Ḥamza’s embassy to Constantinople, and fits the context of Byzantine–Muslim intellectual rivalry. The ambivalence in Ibn al-Farrā’’s attitude towards the Byzantines, a mixture of apprehension and admiration that his denunciations of their stupidity attempt to mitigate or mask, is characteristic of tenth-century Muslim views of the Byzantines. The fact that the Muslims were aware of their own scientific achievements and acknowledged their status as repositories of ancient knowledge, led to a tension in their struggle for the appropriation of ancient knowlege. The loss of their exclusive primacy fostered a tendency to seek psychological compensation in the form of social and cultural snobbery unrelated to reality.8 The author goes on to demonstrate an awareness of and familiarity with the exquisite textiles and precious objects used by Byzantine court society, and this may attest to his direct experience of frequenting palaces and courts. His enumeration of items of clothing corresponds to the testimony of tenthcentury Muslim geographers, such as Ibn al-Faqīh, who describes a list of popular textiles obtained during travel in many lands and refers among others to the Rūmī būzyūn-brocade, the ‘attābī of Isfaḥān, and to Yemeni garments, which suggests that these were used, known and widely circulated in the Muslim world in this period. Ibn al-Farrā’’s description possibly reflects his eastern orientation since the Spanish industry which reached its peak in later centuries was influenced by eastern culture.9 The author critically observes that the clothes worn by Muslim rulers were more refined than those worn by the Byzantine rulers, expressing his contempt for the symbolic value of the Byzantine imperial ceremonial clothes and thus confirming his stance on the decline of Byzantine power and authority. His impression is supported by those of foreign travellers in the fourth/tenth century. For example, Liutprand of Cremona (d. 972), during his embassy to Constantinople in 968, was astonished at how shabbily the emperor Nicephorus II (963–9) was dressed.10 The author’s appreciations, reflects the artistic rivalry between the two courts in the tenth-century, focused on the acquisition of fine clothes and rare objects. This rivalry was intensified by the frequent diplomatic exchanges and has been described as the “reality of the new art of fancy objects”.
The place of composition: Spain There is no clear indication in the text of exactly where it was written. Al-Munajjid, judging by the author’s vivid description of discussions between the ‘Abbāsids and the Byzantines, speculates that he probably participated personally in ‘Abbāsid embassies.1 However, since in most of the accounts the author relies entirely on quotations from his sources—except for the correspondence between Nicephorus and Hārūn, a well-known incident—there is no direct evidence that he was active and contemporary with the events he describes. His use of the first person in his account of the Byzantines is the only indication that he may have been an eyewitness to the events described, and this cannot be taken as an explicit reference to any personal diplomatic involvement.
This chapter seeks to argue that Ibn al-Farrā’’s Rusul al-mulūk was written in Spain and to view it within the political context of the author’s period. The establishment and expansion of the Būyids (932–1062) in 334/946 in Baghdād was the turning point in the history of the ‘Abbāsid caliphate (see Map 2). The power of the Būyids increased with the waning power of the caliphs, who were by then progressively less and less able to exercise control in Baghdād and in the provinces. As the caliphal court in Baghdād lost its role as a centre of cultural activity, the provincial courts of local rulers became the foci of intellectual activity. Despite the fragmentation of the Muslim world— the dissident regime of the Fāṭimids (909–1171) replaced the Aghlabids (800– 909) in Egypt in 297/909, and a new loyalist regime, that of the Ikhshīdids (935–69), established itself in Egypt in 323/935, while in Syria and northern Mesopotamia the Ḥamdānids (906–1004) set up autonomous states in Mosul in 292/905 and in Aleppo in 333/944—the semi-autonomous regional dynasties continued to consider Baghdād as a model of culture.2 It is mentioned by al-Ḥumaydī and suggested by al-Munajjid that, Ibn al-Farrā’ lived in Andalusia, and his work reflects the cultural milieu of Andalusia as part of this period’s intellectual and cultural trends in the Muslim world of the Mediterranean basin. The creation of a caliphal state in Andalusia under ‘Abd al-Raḥmān III (300–350/912–61) gave rise to a century of relative political stability that promoted the flow of intellectual ties with the East and increased the cultural and political prestige attached to the pursuit of knowledge. Andalusian poets and scholars closely followed trends set in the East and Baghdād-based writers were read and admired in courts such that of al-Andalus.3 Alongside intellectual achievements, economic expansion and the growth of trade and commerce led to the prominence of the merchant class.4 Travel facilitated communication and promoted scholarship, which was characterized by the expectation of personal oral transmission. Travelling for the sake of acquiring knowledge was common in this period. There is no direct evidence that Ibn al-Farrā’ travelled to Baghdād for official reasons, for example that he was sent on any mission. Judging from Ibn al-Farrā’’s name (‘son of the furrier’),5 he probably came from a merchant background. As a great man of letters (shaykh ahl al-adab) and a writer (al-kātib)6 of merchant background, he would have travelled extensively both for profit and for the acquiring of knowledge. His travels were probably not limited to the Muslim world. In his account of the Byzantines he demonstrates knowledge of various aspects of the empire and advocates personal experience as the way to understand other countries and peoples. His use of the first person and of a vocabulary of terms designating technical and functional distinctions regarding luxurious clothes and rare objects and their prices are a clear indication of this. Furthermore, one can argue for a link between Ibn al-Farrā’ and the ‘Peripatetic School of Baghdād’ where Abū Zayd, whose works were used by Ibn al-Farrā’ and Tawḥīdī, was known.7 This points to Baghdād as a source of knowledge for Ibn al-Farrā’. The eastern orientation in Ibn al-Farrā’’s work corresponds to this period’s realities, for it was not unusual for tenth-century Andalusian authors to write with a focus on the East.8 The fact that Ibn al-Farrā’ uses exclusively eastern sources that are no longer extant, such as Abū Zayd’s works, could lead to the conclusion that he wrote in Baghdād. As al-Munajjid argues, this would, however, be wrong, for Ibn al-Farrā’ ended his work in the reign of al-Mu‘taṣim unaware of certain events, such as the 304/917 embassy to Baghdād, which received much attention in Baghdādī sources. In the mid-ninth century, the Byzantines were active in northern Syria and began their advance in the East, culminating in the great conquests of the emperors Romanus II (959–63), Nicephorus Phocas (963–9), John Tzimisces (969–76) and Basil II (976–1025) from the mid-tenth to early eleventh centuries.9 Meanwhile, the establishment of the Arab Muslims in Crete and Sicily (Aghlabids), and of the independent dynasties in Egypt and Syria, created strong focal points for naval warfare: a number of attacks were undertaken by the Muslims of Crete, Africa and Sicily and the pirates of Syrian coasts and Cyprus.10 The Byzantines were on friendly terms with the Umayyads (756–1031), who withheld their support from Byzantine enemies in the East, Crete and Africa. Thus, the problem of the Andalusian pirates’ activities in the Mediterranean, their landing in Alexandria and conquest of the island of Crete,11 and their active role in the Aghlabid conquest of Sicily, was perceived as a serious threat by the Byzantines, who initiated an embassy to the caliph ‘Abd al-Raḥmān II (206–38/822–52) in Cordoba in 225/840–1 proposing an alliance with the Umayyads. Cordoba’s response, however, was negative and the Byzantine embassy served mainly as a “testimony to international acceptance of Umayyad claims”. A series of embassies to Constantinople followed and there is much attention in the sources to the envoy–poet al-Ghazāl’s (d. 250/864) adventures at the caliphal court and his role in importing the fig to Spain.12 More Byzantine embassies are reported in 334/945–6, 335/946–7, 337/948–9, 345/956; these had no political significance as they aimed mainly to ensure Umayyad neutrality, and focused instead on the enhancement of “display and prestige”.13 Nonetheless, the cultural importance of some of these exchanges is undeniable. The Byzantine embassies to Cordoba led to the contacts between the Byzantines and the grand wazīr Ḥasdāy b. Shaprūṭ (905–75) and provided him with information about the adoption of Judaism in Khazaria that led him to send an embassy there in the late 328/940s seeking to establish relations between Cordoba and Khazaria.14 In 337/948–9 the exchange of letters between the Byzantines and the Umayyads was accompanied by gifts including, the Greek scientific manuscript of Dioscurides’ (d. ca. 90), De Materia Medica (‘On medicinal substances’), a book painted in the “amazing Byzantine style”. Along with the translation into Arabic of Dioscurides’s book and of Orosius’s (d. after 418) (k. Hurūsiyus ṣāḥib al-qiṣaṣ) book of universal history, the Historiae adversus paganos (‘Histories against the pagans’), which was the most important result of all these contacts and specifically of the Byzantine embassy of 947/948, there was a lasting influence of Byzantine iconographic methods on Arab painting.15 The grand wazīr Ḥasdāy b. Shaprūṭ is said to have worked on the translation of Dioscurides, with the help of a Greek monk sent by the emperor to Cordoba.16 In 972 the caliph al-Ḥakam II al-Mustanṣir (350–66/961–76) sent an embassy to the empire with the aim of obtaining a specialist in mosaics to supervise the decoration of certain areas in the mosque of Cordoba. All these intellectual exchanges, coupled with artistic exchanges, have been discussed in the context of the Byzantines’ “employment of classical antiquity” in their diplomatic contacts, and the Umayyads’ need to keep up with their opponents’ high civilization once they had acknowledged Byzantine scientific and technical expertise.17 The prescriptive character of the Rusul al-mulūk may indicate that Ibn al-Farrā’ was commissioned to write this work by one of the Umayyad caliphs, ‘Abd al-Raḥmān III or al-Ḥakam II, or by the grand wazīr Ḥasdāy b. Shaprūṭ, during a period when there were many diplomatic contacts between the Byzantines and the Umayyads. This would explain the special interest that exists in Ibn al-Farrā’’s work on the Byzantines. In the accounts of this period we hear of the importance of diplomacy exercised through ceremony and the use of correspondence as a means of manifesting and legitimizing caliphal authority.18 We also hear of the importance of the undertaking of jihād by the caliphs, which constituted another means of displaying Umayyad legitimacy.19 Differences of opinion among the elite are therefore not surprising. Some argued in favour of military activity in terms of equipping a warrior on the path of God, while others opposed this view and promoted alternatives to warfare. The role of envoys as itself a topic for reflection may have originated with the question of the religious value of the undertaking of diplomacy. Concerning preparation for dealing with the Byzantines, for example, educated men would either volunteer or be commissioned to provide instruction with regard to conduct. This need for dignified conduct in dealings with the empire might have caused the caliph al-Ḥakam II, or Ḥasdāy b. Shaprūṭ, or even a member of the religious elite (‘ulamā’) to commission a treatise on diplomatic practices with reference to the Byzantines. Ibn al-Farrā’ dignified the act of diplomacy by presenting it as an established norm compatible with Qur’ānic ethics and described it as a means for someone to achieve divine reward without endangering himself. In addition, Ibn al-Farrā’’s accounts would have had a practical implication, since members of the elite could consult the Rusul al-mulūk for a kind of summary of exchanges with the Byzantines in previous years. In this sense, even though the book may be called a ‘mirror for princes’, it could also be called a ‘mirror for messengers’, written for the benefit of those conducting embassies on behalf of rulers. This would not necessarily make them more effective as envoys, but could at least have made them better informed. Thus the Rusul al-mulūk may reflect the intense nature of contacts between the two courts and the caliphs’ interest in diplomatic interaction as a means of increasing the majesty of their office. The use of religious phraseology drawing on Qur’ānic ethics, as well as the theme of Ibn al-Farrā’’s work, fits with the conditions prevailing in the Umayyad caliphate. The style of the Rusul al-mulūk is compatible with the concern the Umayyad caliphs had for “restoring the community to the traditional interpretation of the faith” as exemplified by the Prophet and the early community. This concept is seen in the importance the caliphs placed on their role as “guarantors of the mission of the Prophet”, defenders of the faith, and the promotion of their religious authority by using religious terms, adopting honorific titles, and ensuring support for the law, which they associated with the preservation of the readings of the Qur’ān, and adherence to the Mālikī madhhab. 20 Finally, by presenting the subject of messengers through the explicit use of selected eastern sources on events of the Umayyad and ‘Abbāsid caliphates in a period when the caliphate in Baghdād was in decline, Ibn al-Farrā’ intended to create nostalgia for a past golden age of Islam and to strengthen the legitimacy of the caliphate in Spain by giving evidence of the conformity of its practices with the eternal principles of Islam. Even if Ibn al-Farrā’ wrote in Andalusia, it is valid to see him as reasonably representing ‘Abbāsid practices. His choice of a distant period from which to take examples of diplomatic practice could be because it was easier and less controversial to treat such material objectively than would have been possible with contemporary examples, given the Umayyads’ opposition to the ‘Abbāsids.21
Genre Ibn al-Farrā’’s Rusul al-mulūk is an example of adab literature. In its aims and scope and in its use and handling of sources, the work has similarities to the adab anthology al-‘Iqd al-farīd (‘The unique necklace’) Andalusian Ibn ‘Abd Rabbih (246–328/860–940), who also wrote in tenth-century Spain. Both authors are concerned not to bore their readers, but rather to entertain and teach them through advice presented in prose, poetic quotations, common maxims, eloquent epistles and noble speeches. Their approach to isnāds (‘lists of transmitters’) is also similar, omitting these for a smoother presentation. Both the Rusul al-mulūk and al-‘Iqd al-farīd’s chapter on the wufūd (‘delegations’) describe accounts of embassies dispatched to the Prophet, caliphs and kings up to the time of the ‘Abbāsids. Although both sources have a common subject revolving around diplomatic exchanges, the Rusul al-mulūk has a unity that the wufūd lacks. The wufūd presents its subject of embassies without a central theme or focal issues to facilitate the reader’s comprehension, and presents them in the context of the “‘Abbasid myth”, demonstrating embassies in terms of systems of values, as “occasions of excellence/virtue” (maqāmāt faḍl) and of confrontation. On the other hand, the Rusul al-mulūk has a clear theme focusing on the conduct of envoys.1 The Rusul al-mulūk also has similarities to another work of adab literature, Tawḥīdī’s, al-Baṣā’ir wa’l-dhakhā’ir, in its use of similar sources that have been mentioned elsewhere, and in its treatment of the material. Both exhibit a concise style, omit isnāds and like to use pithy quotations akin to proverbs. In the case of the Rusul al-mulūk, the topic of discussion is limited to the conduct of messengers, whereas the al-Baṣā’ir refers to a vast range of subjects drawn from a wide selection of sources. As Bergé argues with regard to the al-Baṣā’ir: “elles ne sont en effet dediées à aucune personnalité de l’époque … un compendium des connaissances de l’homme musulman cultivé du IV/X siècle”.2 This period of history witnessed great intellectual achievements and is generally known as the ‘Renaissance of Islam’. As an adīb (‘man of letters’), he possessed a knowledge of ‘Arabic humanities’, a grounding in the Hellenic heritage and Iranian traditions. This is evidenced by the use of many erudite sources for his subject and the combination of philosophical, historical and literary traditions, wisdom literature and, poetry with an elegant style, as well as by an excellent command of literary Arabic. It is likely that Ibn al-Farrā’ was a “humanist”, a term Kraemer applies to those scholars (udabā’) who were bearers of a cultural phenomenon known as “humanism”, marked by a philosophical and literary revival centred on the study and imitation of the ancients.
Ibn al-Farrā’’s preoccupation with wise sayings focusing on the conduct of envoys seeks to stimulate his audience and evoke feelings of reverence for the ancient tradition. In addition, he provides information on state affairs, and teaches his patron and audience how to conduct themselves in accordance with an ethic of virtue deriving from Arabic, Persian and Greek cultures. His advice for the ideal envoy, namely that he should be refined in manners, educated and cultured, reflected his own lifestyle. Ibn al-Farrā’’s seriousness in quoting his sources, his interest in the selection of famous sayings and his fluent style are of a piece with the fourth/tenth century’s high intellectual activity. As he states in the introduction and again in the epilogue, Ibn al-Farrā’ wrote the Rusul al-mulūk at the request of a man of great knowledge, a ruler/caliph or possibly a wazīr (likely the grand wazīr Ḥasdāy b. Shaprūṭ), that he address the issue of the conduct of envoys. Hastening to fulfil this command, he presented a coherent picture of the subject, offering practical and moral advice on the choice of the right messenger to enable his patron to act prudently and be successful in the future. The Rusul al-mulūk aims to instruct Ibn al-Farrā’’s patron about past practices in the choice and dispatch of envoys, their qualities, duties, conduct, and the correct way for the delivering of messages. These points are illustrated by examples, anecdotes and maxims that extend from the period of the Jāhiliyya up to the time of the ‘Abbāsid caliph al-Mu‘taṣim. We have no information as to whether Ibn al-Farrā’ volunteered or was commissioned to write the Rusul al-mulūk, but there is no doubt that he was an erudite scholar who probably wrote other works besides this. The work is obviously addressed to an elite audience of scholars, possibly consisting of future envoys, providing them with a certain kind of information as a quick digest of honourable stories, to assist apprentice envoys or provide high officials with information about the exchanges of previous years in the context of the intensification of diplomatic contacts between Byzantines and Umayyads in the tenth century. The author evinces the ethos of a cosmopolitan courtly elite based on universal values and principles such as justice. Ibn al-Farrā’’s emphasis on the relationship between Orthodox–Sunnī Islam and political stability reflects the view that this harmony and order will come into being only in the divinely ordained state necessary for the fulfillment of God’s purpose. The Rusul al-mulūk belongs to the genre of ‘mirrors for princes’ or Fürstenspiegel, part of the wider literature in the field of ethics (adab), examples of which include the K. al-tāj (‘Book of the crown’), the K. al-sulṭān (‘Book of the ruler’)—the first chapter of the ‘Uyūn al-akhbār of Ibn Qutayba (d. 276/889) and the Sirāj al-mulūk of Ibn al-Turṭūsī. The ‘mirror for princes’ genre is included in the wider field of advice (naṣīḥa) literature.4 Among scholars, Dawood, explores the development of the genre in terms of the interrelations between the Persians and the Arabs, while Marlow examines it in terms of conceptions of social organization. According to Marlow, mirrors are ethico-political literary manuals that purport to give advice on the practical and ethical aspects of government and were written for the guidance of rulers and officials. They advise rulers on a wide range of aspects of government and treat broad topics such as injustice, the ruler’s right to be obeyed, the proper procedure for addressing and praising the ruler, the qualifications of various government officials and the concern that should be shown towards the tax-paying peasantry. They mirror the ideal of government through rules of conduct recommended to rulers and officials according to which the people wished to be ruled.5 The Arabic mirrors emerged in the ‘Abbāsid period and coinciding with the development of a multi-racial Muslim society. This new phase was marked by “universalism and a re-evaluation of existing social ideals and literary conventions”. Persian traditions of government were reintroduced and Persian culture was integrated into Islamic civilization contributing to the development of a Perso–Islamic tradition in the mirrors genre. Early mirrors were influenced by pre-Islamic Persian culture and modelled on Pahlavī prototypes adopting Persian ethical and political ideals. Dawood stresses the influence of Persian traditions on the development of the genre of mirrors focusing on the discussion of ‘ruling-class ethics’ as a set of ethical ideals. In addition to the Sasanian element, mirrors incorporated aspects of Byzantine and Hellenistic wisdom literature. Greek influences entered the works through translations from Greek and Pahlavī into Arabic. A distinctive form of Arabic mirror developed in the fifth/eleventh century, combining the characteristics of the above types of work aimed at the edification and entertainment of rulers with dealing with the administration of the state, and drawing on all kinds of material that had been assimilated into Arabic literature.6 The ethico-political tradition of mirrors influenced political life and thought in Islam, particularly in the realm of governmental practice. The Rusul al-mulūk, like other works of the advice literature, follows a vein of political thought “which envisions the state as a function of personal relations”, where actions are based on a code of conduct both personal and ethical which defines norms of behaviour and where the practice of ‘taking counsel’ is prominent. Hence the importance of the tradition of wisdom drawn from books in the form of anecdotes, stories or aphorisms which were important to the ruler in achieving a prosperous rule.
Ibn al-Farrā’ bases his accounts and narrative mainly on written information and sometimes on personal knowledge. As in other mirrors, ethical principles in the Rusul al-mulūk are derived from Pahlavī and Islamic sources, while material of Indian or pseudo-Greek origin plays a secondary role in the author’s effort to illustrate his points and inform the reader through examples of political wisdom regarding rules of conduct. The ethical element is influenced by Persian, Greco-Hellenistic, Arab and Indian works. Persian sources are among the best in the genre—they are intended to be appreciated for their literary qualities and to contribute to the discussion of the theme of envoys—and Ibn al-Farrā’ quotes Pahlavī material in the form of maxims or anecdotes drawn from the Khudāynāma (‘Book of kings’), the āyīn al-Furs (‘Persian practice’), and from the Sīrat al-Furs (‘Biography of the Persians’). As far as the Khudāynāma is concerned, the author does not seem to have had access to the Persian originals or to translations of these, but to draw on them through Arabic works such as the akhlāq al-mulūk, since his wording coincides with that of the latter. The Islamic orientation of the Rusul al-mulūk is unmistakable. Many of the phrases used in the text allude to other texts of religious importance with which the primary (Muslim) audience would have been familiar. This would resonate with these readers in ways that readers who are not part of the Muslim culture will not fully appreciate. The emphasis on Qur’ānic ethics is prominent in the delineation of the virtues required by messengers, especially in the first three chapters where the author draws on examples from the Qur’ān when explaining the function of messengers/prophets. The author uses Qur’ānic verses to describe the function and mission of the Arab Prophet Muḥammad, and those of the prophets/messengers (rusul) who were sent before him in any number of the following ways: as “warners” (nadhīr, mundhir), “bearers of good tidings” (bashīr, mubashshir), “sources of guidance” (huda) and as “witnesses” (shahīd). He attests to the commonality of religion (dīn) preached by the Prophet Muḥammad with that of previous prophets, emphasizes God’s compassion (raḥma) associated with the Prophet’s revelation of the divine message (al-kitāb), and tells of the apocalyptic aspect of His mission that is to warn of the Day of Judgment. He stresses the harm that comes from disbelief (takdhīb) in the Prophet’s message and God’s punishment of unbelievers. He associates virtue with faith in God and urges people to distinguish between the ethical concepts of ‘good’ and ‘evil’, ‘gratitude’ and ‘ingratitude’, in order to follow the path of truth. In addition, he draws on the Prophetic biography (Sīra) to elaborate on his mission, describing the Prophet’s dispatch of messengers to foreign rulers to call them to Islam.8
The Qur’ānic verses serve as a summary of the principles for the conduct of messengers/prophets. These are put in the form of rules or etiquette in the early Islamic political context in order to make them accessible to the reader as a form of law, ‘a religious obligation’ in the sense of ‘the moral status of the act in the eyes of God’, which will help to show the believer the right path. The text presents recommended practices as embodying themes and as suitable rules concerning the ‘act’ of conducting the Muslims’ peaceful relations with other rulers, that is the means and methods of Muslim diplomacy, via the role of messengers. Since the Qur’ān is the primary source for the divine law, the rules legitimized the conduct of diplomacy through the exposition of the divine role of the messenger and his function. In addition to the use of a Qur’ānic vocabulary throughout the text to describe the mesengers’ activities in different chronological periods, the author uses verses from the ḥadīth, the norm, which provides the basis for knowledge of the sunna, the second source of divine law, to refer to the messengers’ conduct. He evokes thematic areas including good appearance, good name, the importance of eloquence (bayān) and gentle speech in messengers, all topics which often constitute parts of legal works. Thus, the author formulates cases for considerations of law in relation to the role of the messenger in Islam. The use of terms such as “it is permissible” (jā’iz), “prohibition” (nahy), “warning” (ḥ-dh-ra) and, “it is obligatory” (w-j-b) are part of the legal value of the source.9 Additional sources of Islamic origin include a variety of literary genres: well-known mirrors or works of government such as the akhlāq al-mulūk, Zayd al-Balkhī’s no longer extant work on politics (siyāsa) the al-Siyāsa al-mukhtaṣara (‘Abridged politics’), which describes the qualities of the ideal messengers; other no longer extant works such as the Taṣfiyat al-adhhān, akhbār al-Sha‘bī, akhbār Baghdād, akhbār Miṣr and caliphal biographies; akhbār drawn from historians such as al-Wāqidī (d. 207/822), or from aṣḥāb al-siyar (‘authors of biographies’), ruwāh (‘story-tellers’), or from prominent individuals of the ‘Abbāsid period such as al-Ḥasan b. Sahl (d. 236/850–1), the brother of the wazīr of al-Ma’mūn, Faḍl b. Sahl (d. 202/818), or from the wazīr al-Faḍl b. Marwān who cites the wazīr Ibn al-Zayyāt as the narrator of the report, moral apocalyptic, verses of poetry from Arab (shā’ir al-arab) or unamed poets (wa qāla al-shā’ir), and amthāl (‘proverbs’). The author refers to well-known events in Islamic history in order to demonstrate diplomatic norms or etiquette in connection with the theme of mediation, such as the battle of Ṣiffīn (37/658) and the arbitration agreement between ‘Alī b. Abī Ṭālib (35–40/656–61), the fourth caliph of the Rāshidūn (632–61), and Mu‘āwiya b. Abī Sufyān (661–80), citing ‘Abd Allāh b. ‘Abbās (d. 68/687–8), who participated in the reaching of that agreement. He refers to other significant events such as Hārūn al-Rashīd’s destruction of the city of Heraclea in 806 or al-Mu‘taṣim’s sack of the city of Amorium in 838, and includes stories of diplomatic exchanges drawn from the early period of Islamic history up to the reign of al-Mu‘taṣim.10 Ibn al-Farrā’ uses gnomologia11—ethical sayings and anecdotes— ascribed to famous Persian personalities such as the first Sasanian king, Ardashīr b. Bābak (226–40) (min ḥikma al-Furs), to Greek philosophers of antiquity such as Aristotle (d. 322 B.C.) and Plato (d. 347 B.C.) (Aflāṭūn al-ḥakīm), and to other exemplary personalities such as Alexander the Great (Iskandar), Indian (al–hind) sayings, the well-known Indian mirror the Kalīla wa-Dimna, or unknown authorities (qāla al-ḥakīm, al-‘udabā’ min al-ḥukamā’, ḥakīm al-yunānī) with a didactic purpose, that is, to instruct his ruler/patron on past diplomatic practices focused on the role of the messenger. There is much emphasis on ‘aql (‘intellect’), and the sayings attributed to Plato and other Greek wise men, in order to urge the messenger to ensure that his intellect prevails over desire, making him morally worthy. The accounts concerning Alexander are drawn from the biography of Alexander (Sīra al-Iskandar), Aristotle’s ‘General Politics’ (al-Siyāsa al-‘āmma) and ‘Abbreviated politics’ (al-Siyāsa al-khāṣṣa) and from the advice of Aristotle to Alexander (min waṣiyyat al-Iskandar) and portray him as the ideal ruler who is advised on how to choose messengers, and how he should behave in the presence of messengers. For further advice on the conduct of messengers, the author quotes a number of Arab wise sayings from unnamed sources (ḥakīm al-arab, min ḥikma al-arab) or attributed to well-known personalities such as the famous orator of pious counsel Aktham b. Ṣayfī (d. 9/630), al-Muhallab b. Abī Ṣufra (d. 82/702) and Ziyād b. Abīhi (d. 53/673).12 The theme of the conduct of envoys features, among other subjects, in a number of mirrors. Most of these deal with a wide selection of subjects lacking a central theme and failing to unite the whole: for example, the K. al-sulṭān deals with a variety of subjects such as the etiquette for addressing and advising the ruler and asking his pardon; tax-collection, justice and injustice; the criteria for the choice of provincial governors, among others.13 The Rusul al-Mulūk is closer to the K. al-tāj: it has a central theme since it addresses the specific issue of court etiquette and the ethics of rulers and officials, has a unity and does not share the wider scope attained by other mirrors. Thus, the Rusul al-mulūk is simultaneously an adab anthology consisting of texts from the finest prose and poetry, a treatise on ethics that reflects great individuality in the choice of theme—to supply the norms of knowledge and conduct for the profession of envoy—and a compendium of ‘political wisdom’ on the conduct of envoys with an ethical-didactic aim. Practical and moral advice is offered to the ruler/patron on his choice of the right messenger. A just and intelligent ruler, able to deal with his own affairs, is viewed as emerging after he has informed himself of the rightful order of things by enquiring into the practice of past rulers. He is advised to follow the best course of action and to choose the most virtuous messengers, accepting the wisest judgements and best experiences. Further, the work presents its material not as merely pieces of wisdom, but as evidence to illustrate diplomatic practices. In this sense it is a diplomatic treatise: it establishes a special trend in the mechanisms and behaviour of diplomatic envoys and endeavours to enrich the reader’s knowledge about non-Muslims, their culture and conduct in the diplomatic arena. The Rusul al-mulūk, which is not mentioned in this context by Brockelmann, is in a limited sense a mirror for princes, a manual for the guidance of rulers, in that it deals with the duties and requisites of envoys and with court etiquette, as well as with the customs prevalent in the caliphal court.
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