Bābur

A Timurid prince, ‘Umar Shaykh Mīrzā, ruler of Farghānā, died in 899/1494, leaving little more than a title to his principality for his son Bābur, then eleven years old. Bābur had to fight not only to defend Farghānā but also to fulfil his ambition of possessing Samarqand because of its prestige as the main city of Central Asia. His adventures described in his excellent memoirs read like a romance. He did succeed in occupying Samarqand, only to lose it again. His lasting possession proved to be Kābul which he occupied in 910/1504, and which became his headquarters. All else, including Farghānā, he lost in the struggle.

The rise of the Özbegs and the Safavids affected Bābur's career deeply. The Özbegs were able to extinguish the power of the Timurids because they proved incapable of serious and joint effort. The Safavids came into conflict with the Özbegs and defeated them. Bäbur was restored to the kingdom of Samarqand as a vassal of Shāh Ismā‘īl I after the defeat and death of Muhammad Shaybānī Khān Özbeg (917/1511). The Safavids were defeated in the battle of Ghujduwān, and Bābur lost all hope of ruling Samarqand, and returned to Kābul (918/1512). When Bābur felt secure, his mind turned towards India. Ibrāhīm Lodī, the sultan of Delhi, had alienated his nobles. Dawlat Khān, the governor of Lahore, sent messengers to Kābul offering allegiance in return for help. Ibrāhām's uncle, ‘Ālam Khān, also went to Kābul seeking assistance to capture the throne of Delhi.

The western and central Sudan in the early period

The Sudan (more precisely, bilād al-Sūdān, the land of the blacks) is the Arabic name for the trans-continental savannah belt, several hundred miles wide, lying between desert and forest. The Sudan has been the principal theatre for African Islamic history below the northern coast. Only rarely have Saharan movements exercised critical influence—e.g. the Almoravids (fifth/eleventh century) or the Sanūsiyya (nineteenth century). Only recently has Islam taken root in the forest: this is primarily a characteristic of the European colonial period, which checked local wars, opened roads, and encouraged trade and migrant labour—a situation equally true for Muslim penetration south from the savannah, or inland from the East African coast.

The Sahara, with its Berber population, has, however, been of crucial importance as an avenue of approach. The northern Sudan cities, Timbuktu, Gao and others, were ports facing the desert just as the eastern coastal cities faced the Indian Ocean. Gold for export, salt for import, were staples of Saharan trade. Several major routes crossed the Sahara: from Morocco to the goldfields of the upper Senegal and Niger; from Tunisia to the area between the Niger and Lake Chad; from Tripoli to Lake Chad; from Libya to Waday. The eastern Sudan, though closest to the heartlands of Islam, was penetrated last, perhaps because of difficulties of communication along the Nile, and the persistence of Christian states astride the river. Below the northernmost Sudanic strip, called the Sāhil or Coast, another pattern of Muslim mobility developed, chiefly east-west.

Soon after the First World War, Muslim India was involved in a mass political convulsion of a composite nature. Its components were two parallel and mutually linked agitations: a tense and explosive pan-Islamic emotionalism apprehensive of the fate of the defeated Ottoman empire, of the Arab lands (especially the Hijāz), and of the institution of the caliphate; and an alliance with the Hindus in the nationalist and anti-imperialist mass-movement led by the Indian National Congress. These two elements of the agitation were directed against linked objectives: pressure on the government in Britain for a more sympathetic approach in deciding the fate of the vanquished Ottoman empire; and pressure on the British government in India for greater concessions towards self-determination.

The way for a working alliance with Congress had been prepared since 1911 by a series of national and international developments. The annulment of the partition of Bengal (1911), which deprived the Muslims of that province of the political and economic advantage conceded to them earlier, had convinced the Muslim leadership of the instability of British patronage. British action, inaction, or indifference on such developments as the Italian occupation of Libya, or the extension of French control over Morocco, the Balkan War, the suspected designs of a partition of Persia (and possibly Turkey) between Russia and Great Britain, had built up the image of British imperialism as an ally of all European imperialist thrusts directed against the Muslim lands. The annulment of the partition of Bengal had also taught the Muslim political leaders the lesson that the policy of loyalism, initiated by Sayyid Ahmad Khān and followed ever since, did not pay as rich political dividends as the organised movement of political opposition conducted by Congress, or even the terrorism of extremist Hindus.

Political developments: 1918–50

The War of Liberation and the downfall of the old régime

The Mudros armistice signed on 30 October 1918, by the government of Ahmed ‘Izzet Pasha appointed by the sultan for this task, marked the defeat of the Ottoman empire in the First World War. The war was fought valiantly on several fronts, but many officers and intellectuals with a new outlook on life and government realized that the war had proved the bankruptcy of Ottoman political and military philosophy, and threatened the independent existence of the Turks.

Defeat appeared inevitable as early as 1917, and compelled many officers and intellectuals to reckon with its consequences. The multinational Ottoman state could not be revived, whereas the unifying idea of a Turkish national state was barely emerging. The Allies had already agreed to divide the empire. On 13 November 1918, Allied troops landed in Istanbul and established a military administration. In the spring of 1919, the French advanced into the regions of ‘Ayntāb (later Gaziantep), Mar‘ash and Adana, the Italians landed in Antalya, and the British in Samsun and the Dardanelles. The sultan in Istanbul, Mehmed VI Vahīd al-Dīn, acquiesced in the occupation.

Soon he was busy persecuting the remaining Union and Progress leaders, after the main ones, Tal‘at, Enver and Jemāl Pashas, had fled abroad. The sultan's governments, headed alternatively by Tevfīq and Damad Ferīd Pashas, gradually became preoccupied mainly with defending the sultanate. The leading groups associated with the court and the Istanbul press appeared to have reconciled themselves with the idea of occupation.

Islam in the Iberian peninsula

The Muslim conquest

The weakness of the Visigothic monarchy and the apathy of the oppressed Hispano-Roman population offered an easy prey to the Arabs recently established on the other shore of the Straits of Gibraltar. Mūsā b. Nusayr, who had just triumphantly overrun Morocco, and his lieutenant, Tāriq b. Ziyād, governor of Tangier (Tanja), with the complicity of the legendary Count Julian, were the fortunate conquerors of Spain. The first landing of a detachment of 400 men sent to reconnoitre by the Berber, Tarīf b. Mallūq, took place in Ramadān 91/July 710, and the booty obtained without resistance induced Mūsā to give fo his freedman, Tāriq, command of the expedition guided by Count Julian which encamped at Calpe (Jabal Tāriq, i.e. Gibraltar) and took Cartaja in Rajab 92/spring 711.

King Roderick, who was putting down a Basque revolt, hastened to Cordova, and, after gathering an army together, advanced towards the Algeciras region. Here Tāriq awaited him with 12,000 Berbers and a number of partisans of the sons of Witiza, a former king, who were rebels against Roderick. The battle took place on 28 Ramadan 92/19 July 711 on the banks of the river Barbate. It is not certain whether Roderick lost his life in the encounter, but, on the dispersal of his troops, Tāriq, contrary to the instructions which he had received to return to Africa, or at least to remain where he was until further orders, attacked Écija and took Cordova.

A reader taking up a work entitled The Cambridge history of Islam may reasonably ask, ‘What is Islam? In what sense is Islam an appropriate field for historical enquiry?’ Primarily, of course, Islam is, like Christianity, a religion, the antecedents, origin and development of which may, without prejudice to its transcendental aspects, be a legitimate concern of historians. Religious history in the narrow sense is not, however, the only, or even the main, concern of the contributors to these volumes. For the faith of Islam has, again like Christianity, been a great synthesizing agent. From its earliest days it displayed features of kinship with the earlier monotheisms of Judaism and Christianity. Implanted in the former provinces of the Byzantine and Sasanian empires, it was compelled to maintain and define its autonomy against older and more developed faiths. Like Judaism and Christianity before it, it met the challenge of Greek philosophy, and adopted the conceptual and logical tools of this opponent to expand, to deepen, and to render articulate its self-consciousness. In this connexion, the first three centuries of Islam, like the first three centuries of Christianity, were critical for establishing the norms of belief and practice, and for embodying them in a tradition which was, or which purported to be, historical.

The changing situation of central Asia

After the formation of the three great Islamic empires of the Ottomans, the Safavids and the Mughals, the situation of Central Asia in the following centuries was determined. After the death of Muhammad Shaybānī in 916/1510 and the expulsion of Babur from Transoxania and Samarqand in 918/1512, it was clearly impossible for the Turks of Central Asia to subjugate the Persian plateau again as they had done in previous centuries. In spite of prolonged molestation by the Turcomans —comparable with that of Poland and Lithuania by the Crimean Tatars in the same centuries—the Safavids were able to hold out and to make Persia into an independent state with its own unique character.

The border area consequently created between Persia and Central Asia on the Oxus and to the south became not only a political frontier but also in equal degree a religious frontier. Transoxania and the greater part of the eastern Persian settlement area—approximately what is now Afghanistan and Tājīkistān—remained Sunnī; Persia became Shī‘ī. Even though there was no complete barrier against the spread of Persian culture into Central Asia in the following centuries, the difference of faith obstructed its diffusion. Persian culture, moulded by native Sunni forces in India just as much as in Transoxania, in general developed independently and without direct connexions with the culture of the Persian plateau. It was no longer feasible simply to take over works of literature, still less of theology, from thence and to make them a model for local productions.

Ottoman ‘splendid isolation’ comes to an end

The treaty of Carlowitz (1110/1699) marks a turning-point in Ottoman history. The Ottoman empire, which had terrified Christendom for over three hundred years, ceased to be an aggressive power. From now on it mainly fought rearguard actions against the overwhelming might of Christian Europe. Yet it survived, its frontiers gradually shrinking, for another two centuries. The reasons for this amazing tenacity were manifold: the rivalry of the great powers, the mutual hostility between the subject peoples of the Balkans and their fear of European domination, the modernization of the empire, and, last but not least, the martial qualities and religious ethos of the Muslim soldier, especially the Turk.

Down to the early decades of the eighteenth century, the Ottomans' chief European foes had been the republic of Venice and the Habsburg empire. The former, now in rapid decline, could no longer maintain its naval supremacy in the eastern Mediterranean. After thirty years of unpopular government in the Morea, whose Greek Orthodox population detested Catholic rule, the Venetians were defeated by Ottoman forces and in the Peace of Passarowitz (1130/1718) had to return the peninsula, their chief gain under the treaty of Carlowitz.

The Habsburg armies, under the brilliant leadership of Prince Eugene, had intervened in the war on the side of Venice to win decisive victories. In the Peace of Passarowitz, however, the Austrians, while not saving Venice from loss of territory, made substantial gains for themselves, forcing the sultan to cede the Bánát of Temesvár, Little Wallachia and Belgrade, the Ottomans' ‘House of the Holy War’ (Dār al-Jihād), with parts of northern Serbia.

Süleymān the Magnificent

Süleymān the Magnificent and Charles V

When Süleymān the Magnificent came to the throne on 17 Shawwāl 926/30 September 1520, he, like his ancestors, had to prove himself in the field of ghazā. This was the standard way of consolidating the power of a new sultan. Selīm's conquests had enlarged the empire to twice its size and inspired despair in Europe. Selīm had aimed above all at winning a great victory in the West. With this end in view he started building a great shipyard in Istanbul as early as 921/1515. Mehmed the Conqueror had been checked at Rhodes, the gate to the Mediterranean, and before Belgrade, the gate to central Europe. The pursuit of the ghazā in the West depended on the capture of these two fortresses of Christendom. Charles V ascended the Habsburg throne in 925/1519 and soon after, in Rabī‘ II 927/March 1521, the inevitable war broke out between him and the other great Christian ruler, Francis I of France. Europe was thus divided into two camps, and the idea of launching a united European crusade against the Ottomans became impracticable. The Ottomans could not have hoped for a more favourable set of circumstances. It was in these conditions that Süleymän began his reign.

Political developments: 1906–47

On 30 December 1906, the Qājār monarch Muaffar al-Dīn Shāh signed the fundamental law (qānūn-i asāsī). By his signature of this instrument, the shah in theory converted Persia from a traditional Islamic society to a constitutional monarchy. The fundamental law provided for the establishment of a National Consultative Assembly (Majlis-i shawrā-yi Millī), which actually met for the first time on 7 October 1906, prior to the signature of the fundamental law by the shah, and of an upper house or Senate, which was not called into being until 1950. The instrument of the constitution was completed by the ratification by Muhammad ‘Alī Shāh, on 7 October 1907, of the supplementary fundamental law. This dealt with the rights of the Persian people and of the members of the National Consultative Assembly, and defined the powers of the crown, ministers, judicial tribunals and the army. The real dividing-line between traditional Persia and modern Iran, however, is not 1906, but 1921 when Riżā Khān (later Riżā Shāh Pahlavī) came to power by a coup d'état. The promulgation of the constitution was, of course, an important step forward, but for a variety of reasons it did not fulfil the hopes of the constitutionalists, and did not lead immediately to the remodelling of Persian political, economic and social life along Western lines. The measures introduced by Riżā Shāh, on the other hand, represented a definite break with the traditional past. It was he who launched Persia into the twentieth century.