of Islam, Second Edition
FOREWORD
SHERMAN ʿABD AL-ḤAKĪM JACKSON
A prominent scholar of Islamic history once wrote, “Ulamalogy is a noble science—at least we have to think so, because it is almost all the Islamic social history we will ever have.” This sentiment about ulama—religious scholars and jurists—underscores a perduring tension in the study of premodern Islam, between the ideal theories and prescriptions laid down by those writers on the one hand and quotidian reality on the other. Even the descriptive efforts of premodern Muslim historians afford scant insight into social trends, attitudes, actors, or movements. And it is in this context that the value of the present work is thrown into bold relief.
The Sword of Ambition (Tajrīd sayf al-himmah li-stikhrāj mā fī dhimmat al-dhimmah) might be described as a social polemic packaged in the language of Islamic law. Its author, ʿUthmān ibn Ibrāhīm al-Nābulusī (d. 660/1262), a noted official in the Ayyubid state, sets out to undermine the legitimacy of non-Muslims serving in positions of political authority. Not only are non-Muslims untrustworthy in Ibn al-Nābulusī’s view, for him the very fact of their functioning in any official capacity in a Muslim state violates the ideal Islamic social order, which, he intimates, is supposed to reflect the absolute supremacy of Islam and the subordination of all other religions. Thus, Ibn al-Nābulusī is relentless in adducing Qurʾanic verses, Prophetic hadiths, statements and actions of the prophet Muhammad’s Companions, the early caliphs, governors, scholars, and even poets, to substantiate both the impermissibility and the impropriety of non-Muslims serving in Muslim government.
We must be careful, however, as we negotiate the ferocity of Ibn al-Nābulusī’s invective, not to be seduced into overestimating or underestimating its value or meaning. Ibn al-Nābulusī clearly casts his arguments in explicitly legal terms, as he wants to convey the sense that he is motivated not by personal bias but by piety and an assiduous commitment to the ideals and interests of Islam. Yet, by de-contextualizing scripture, conflating its general descriptions with specific identities, by suppressing countervailing texts and historical examples, and by imputing to early generations the authority to hand down permanently binding findings of fact, Ibn al-Nābulusī ultimately tips his hand. To take just a couple of examples, he completely suppresses Qurʾanic statements that speak to the trustworthiness of Jews and Christians, for example: «And among the People of the Book are those whom if you entrust them with an entire treasure, they will promptly return it to you….» (Q Āl ʿImrān 3:75). Meanwhile, he leaves us to assume that a Jew’s or a Christian’s commission of this or that indiscretion as a matter of fact translates into a permanent, inextricably inherent character trait of all Jews and Christians.
But rather than dismiss Ibn al-Nābulusī’s campaign as a simple expression of prejudice, we must remain open to the possible degree of factual veracity it contains and to what his manner of proceeding tells us about the broader sociopolitical reality and perceptions prevailing at the time. The fact, in other words, that Ibn al-Nābulusī loathes the idea of non-Muslims serving in government should not be taken as proof that all of the infelicities, ruses or moral failings he attributes to individual Jews and Christians are necessarily factually false. Indeed, to dismiss him in this manner would be to forfeit the value of The Sword of Ambition as a source for social history. For Ibn al-Nābulusī’s attitudes, the facts and non-facts he tells about Jews and Christians, why he recounts these, the perceived need to write such a tract, why and how he couches his arguments in explicitly legal language, why his recriminations seem to be directed almost solely at non-Muslims and not at the rulers or high officials who appoint them, and how the contents of this work compare with what the historical record tells us about the actual reality of Jews and Christians serving in Muslim government—all of this provides invaluable insight into the sociopolitical and, indeed, sociopsychological realities of the time.
Of course, beyond social history per se (or perhaps we should say in addition to social history) this tract provides valuable insight also into how extralegal, pre-rational mindsets and experiences inform the deployment of legal sources and arguments, and thus influence the substance and contours of the law. In the modern West, movements such as legal realism and critical legal studies have tracked this relationship between interpretive presuppositions and the conclusions claimed to be grounded solely in the sources to very useful ends in their analyses of Western law. Ibn al-Nābulusī’s text both underscores the potential value of applying such approaches to Islamic legal history and provides a useful specimen on the basis of which to proceed in this regard.
We are all in debt to the translator for providing us with such an informed rendering of Tajrīd sayf al-himmah li-stikhrāj mā fī dhimmat al-dhimmah. We must hope that the interpretive strategies that we as readers employ in studying this text are sophisticated and imaginative enough to recognize its full value, enabling us to derive from it the fullest benefit and most meaningful insights.
Sherman ʿAbd al-Ḥakīm Jackson
University of Southern California
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I am grateful for the generous financial and logistical support this project received from four institutions in particular: the Herbert D. Katz Center for Advanced Judaic Studies at the University of Pennsylvania, the Mellon Faculty Development Grant of Saint Louis University, Saint Louis University, and Princeton University. A visit to manuscripts in 2014 was made possible by practical support from the Centre d’Études Maghrébines à Tunis, the Centre d’Études Maghrébines en Algérie, and their respective directors, Laryssa Chomiak and Robert Parks. In this connection, too, I am supremely grateful to the Kacimi Library of Zawiyat El Hamel, Algeria and, above all, to Muhammad Foued Kacimi al-Hasani al-Sharif for his intellectual generosity, personal sincerity, and warm hospitality. For access to images of manuscripts I thank M. Şükrü Hanioglu, the Süleymaniye Library, the Bibliothèque Nationale de Tunisie, the British Library, and the Widener Library of Harvard University.
Numerous individuals have given generously of their time and expertise to assist me in this project. They include Mark Cohen, Michael Cook, Matthew Gordon, Hannah-Lena Hagemann, Kamel Hameidia, Andras Hamori, Alaa Kacimi, Amr Osman, Thomas Madden, Johannes Pahlitzsch, Alex Petras, Marina Rustow, Adam Sabra, Samir Khalil Samir, S.J., Uri Shachar, Rebekah Sheldon, Damian Smith, Daniel Stolz, Mark Swanson, Alexander Treiger, Elizabeth Urban, Joseph Witztum, Oded Zinger, and my colleagues at Saint Louis University and at the Fall 2012 seminar of the Katz Center. Particular thanks are due Amr Osman, Torki Fahad Al Saud, Yossef Rapoport, and Christian Sahner for reading and critiquing large parts of the book, and especially to Andras Hamori, who gave exceedingly generous and learned assistance with the poetry. Project Editor Devin Stewart deserves special thanks, too, for providing steady guidance and correcting countless errors while reading multiple drafts of the manuscript. I am also grateful to the other editors of the Library of Arabic Literature for further corrections and for their vision and faith in this project. It is fitting, too, that I acknowledge my debt to the late Claude Cahen for his pioneering work, without which this volume could not have come to be.
I wish finally to extend warmest thanks to my family. My wife Aubrey has lent encouragement and support in countless ways, notably by critiquing a draft of the translation. My parents, too, extended moral support and frequent hospitality. The labor in these pages is dedicated to my grandmother, D.B.G., whose kindness, curiosity, and wit are a legacy to her family. I