Moonlight over Granada

I. Anno Hegirae 897 (C.E. 1492)¹

On the long road out of Granada there came: a crowd of the dusty, the dispossessed, and the lame – side by side with names of eminence despoiled of their fame; all exile-leveled – the wisdom and the folly, the rich and the sorry came down all the same. Among the crowd on that road there came:

II. THE EXILEES

The soldier, on his black Rabicano,² caparisoned for a war, but what war now that Alhambra has fallen? Unfulfilled anger in his mien, but an uprightness still in his bearing; the scarred sun-darkened face told he was full of daring.

A straggling donkey carried the philosopher’s books – he mourned those he’d left behind: ‘My Plato and my Galen…’³ All the learning of Andalus burdened his mind and, in his reluctant parting, he trailed well behind.

The lady who went with her husband in exile, but longed for her sister, left behind with her own husband in Almeria as the road took the sister out of Iberia.

The poet wept for the things of poets: a certain slant of morning light on the snowy peaks of Mulhacén,⁴ a certain hue of sunset on the Alhambra’s walls, the olives and the figs planted row by row, the slow waters of Genil and Hadarro,⁵ the winding alleys with their mashrabiyyas,⁶ and, ah, the obliquely glimpsed beauties hidden in the mashrabiyyas

Many more came in that exile train, and none was cheerful – how could they be cheerful? They went with a sighing and foreboding pace. All, except one: the singular smiling old man riding a blue roan palfrey…⁷

III. SOLILOQUIES

The soldier’s soliloquy:

Ay, you Indian sword of Damascus steel
Once striker of wounds that never heal
Exiled to bloody peace in a restless scabbard
You know this arm is that of no laggard
Let our master Zaghal attest
He counted me of his very best
This scar I got at the raid of Zah’ra
And this scar in defense of Málaga 
This deep one at the fighting at Baza
Seven more deep I got at Alhama, 
And more in the hills of Axarquia,
Three more on the arm at Almeria 
Many unseen from battling at Ronda
But at our lovely, lovely Granada…

May ‘Bu Abdil be spited, that venial, faithless man!
Unfit to wear our Master’s name
– and may God laud that blessèd name
Of our Lord magisterial, of the House of Adnán

And be it decreed we see Alhambra freed
To see again streaming those pennons which read:
And there is no conqueror save God

Sure written as iron fate:
            we return across the narrow strait
That ever is our martial state.
Again, again we come across this Sea
With worthy lords of exalted degree:
Ţáriq, Yúsuf, and Abdu’r-Rahmán!
We come! we come! With Arab, Berber, and Súdán!
Our good master Zaghal as our soultán

(And, ah, good master Zaghal, how do you fare?
Are you bidding the Maghrebis prepare:
“We go to repair Alhambra’s despair”?
Do they heed you well in Tlemcen and Fes,
Treat you well in Orán and Meknès?
Do they come eager to the fight
To scatter our Castilian foes into flight?)

Ay, you Indian sword of Damascus steel
I know this rusting despair that you feel:
We are unconquered and will not heel!
              But patience…hard sharp patience.
The moment is nearing for your second reveal
All the scattered edges that sheaths now conceal
Must surely be whet again by the waters of Genil

The philosopher’s soliloquy:

Those old pages that between their lines conceal –
             – wisdom which long vigils alone reveal!
Those remnant souls of the Grecian Sages,
            ‘bn Bajja, ‘bn Rushd, learning of recent ages!
And I, sage of these new and every ancient art
From all that, at sword’s threat, I am to depart!

I who know the school of Dáwúd and the school of Málik
And know statecraft through Umarí’s Masálik
The cures of the Qánún, the tables of Zarqálí
Through Abú’ṣ-Ṣält how to titre kibrít and al-qálí
I know the Almagest, the Hay’ah, the astrolabe of Sijzí
And know the reckoning of zíj, zairja, and syzygy
By light of Yad-al-Jawzá’ I may glean any prodigy
And hush…
             Hush…
                        …but through the Gháyat I know the sigils
All this learned from long hours and vigils!
Ah, that steady lamplight by which I grew this bright!
A Tufayli orphan brilliant with study and insight:
Sage of the recent philosophies and every ancient art
From all that, at sword’s threat, I am to depart!
Ah, the libraries: great learning of Granada and its ornament
Uff! to those for whom swords are eloquent argument.

And yet how often have men with swords at their hips –
– built libraries filled by caravans and by laden ships!
In these very lands have been many such lords
Where are they now to rout these unschooled hordes!
Rise, Abdu’r-Rahmán! Defender and patron of our learning
Do you not hear the cry of the wise and see the books burning?
Where is our aid: they called you Aide-of-the-Faith-of-God!
And you, al-Hakam, Victor-by-the-will-of-God!
             Where, when our wisdom is lost in a faithless head?
             Ah, if only I could have learned to rouse the dead…

The lady’s soliloquy:

“Let us stop here a moment and weep…”
For the edge of parting has cut us deep.
Sister, my dearest sister! You stay and I go
This too is providence, so why do I cry so? 
For what will become of me without your knowledge?
Or what will become of you without my knowledge?
Or for the silence; or for the overhanging violence?
Oh who can inform me of the meaning of these tears?
Ah, but you would know, who alone knew all my fears
             What mockery at the hands of Fate: 
Tears for the loss of the only one who can dry them
Ah, let us stop, weep as in that old lovers’ anthem

              Sister, my dearest sister! 
Three years already you have lived under Castilian yoke
And yet in your letters I still heard you joke
Despite all the humiliations cast on the Mudajjan,
Despite a life lived in that open dungeon
Now I too have come under the yoke but flee
Andalus will be purged of us by Castilian decree
Now the final fortress of our faith here is lost…
Now the threshold of the Alhambra has been crossed…
Oh, what bleakness is foreseen for all who remain
In lands won by those who hold us in disdain
Why do you and your husband stubbornly remain?
Woe! You will be made to renounce faith or feign!
But I understand it all now I know the pain
Of parting from the land of your heart, blood, and vein
For this you would live even under heathen reign
Ah, that I could stay on this belovèd soil with you
And under this Andalusian heaven of perfect blue
In orchards of olives in which we once played
By mosques with crystalline muqarnas and florid arcade
Through mashrabiyyas watching as passers-by went
Oh, lovely Granada in which our youth was spent!

And to all this lamenting her husband would only say: 
            “So asked that conquered man of Marbella:
            ‘Must we really flee Ferdinand and Isabella?’”
But all this she had heard him say before 
It echoed all day in her ear, did nothing to allay her fear:
            “...Thus saith – in reply to the man of Marbella – the learnèd master, 
            his knowledgeable eminence, our qádí Wansharísí –
	    – who counsels us home across Ţáriq’s narrow sea:
	    Thus begins the book of the master, the Mi’yár al-Mu’rib,
            In it calling the vanquished faithful come to the Maghreb:

الحمد لله المتفضل بإجابة السائل،
المتطول بإفاضة النائل،
فاتح أبواب الآمال،
البعيدة المنال…

All this he intoned solemnly, the warnings measured evenly
It echoed all day in her ear, but did nothing to allay the fear

The poet’s soliloquy:

You passages of muwwashshahát intoned with zeal
Can we not find something in you that will heal?
Or in you, lilting zajals in kámil that spill –
            mutafá’ilun…mutafá’ilun out of my quill
And you? Ring of qánún and strumming of oud –
In maqám of ‘ajam like minstrel Dáwúd
Ah, not even in what Wallada whispered to Zaydún?
Are we really to leave to go into desert and dune?
Then O, silenced melodies of our mirlo Ziryáb!
They have made that blackbird mute and drab!

One who knows all the songs of Andalus must be reminded in a time such as this of Abú Ţayyib al-Rundí’s Rithá’ and its grief not long ended, and just so the poet recalls that elegy for Andalus, and composes one in turn for Granada:

a Rithá’ for Granada

O Abú Ţayyib, exile from Ronda, raise again your grief
From beneath the earth in Sabtah give us some relief –
              – through that stirring lament which makes us pine
But this time when you come to that grievous line
Do not say to us all things that rise must fall,
That all that is born must go under pall
             For our Andalus must be immortal!
You may ask of Dhí Yazan, Shaddád, and Qahtán
You may ask of the long gone tyrants of Sassán
But do not ask of our Granada
            For our Andalus must be immortal!
You may ask of Kisra, Iskandar, and Darius,
The proud Iram, of Yemen and its warriors
But do not ask of our Granada
For our Andalus must be immortal!
Do not disturb our souls with such images
As of crosses in our mihrábs and other outrages
Had we listened to your call for Jativa and Murcia!
For the falling of Jaén and the memory of Valencia!
Oh Time and Fate sharper than Mashrifi swords
And memories of our generous patron lords!
           But surely our Andalus must be immortal?

IV. THE SERMON OF THE PALFREY RIDER

The old man on the blue roan palfrey saw this dispirited crowd and at a halt he said these words to rouse them. He said:

I am Abu’l-Fat’h Ibn Rajá’, a shoemaker of Guadix. (But who could believe he was merely a shoemaker?) Fellow exilees, if you will take the counsel of one who has seen and heard much, he will give it, who, when he was born Zah’ra was still rival to Alhambra and Antequera and Huescar were still faithful places. Memories of Algeciras and Priego could still be collected from faithful men. His mother was a Mudéjar⁵⁵ from Tarifa and his father had been likewise in Badajoz in his youth. Do you marvel to hear these places mentioned faithfully? Yes, so! And in his youth he heard the call from minarets in Xiquena! If you will take his counsel, he will give it – and it is this:

It is useless to mourn the beauty of dawn past the crack of morn
Moonlight is beautiful no less than daylight
You must make Granada anew,
             though you be many, though you be few
In this, at end, we must make our home:
Whether this road comes to Mecca or Rome
We must make Granada anew,
             though we be many, though we be few
Wherever you go, carry with you your Andalus,
Let it be your Sirius and your guiding periplus 
Let your sweat gleam riverful like the Genil
By such effort you will re-turn fortune’s wheel
Let your blood be the redness of a new Alhambra, 
Though the bones of Abdu’r-Rahmán lie in Córdoba, 
You must carry his great daring with you all over:
For we must make Granada anew,
             though we be many, though we be few
But be not complacent as you have been –
             – the end of all that is what you are now in
Do not let brother stir against brother
Father against son, son against father
These are all the reasons you are now here
But do not be saddened and do not fear
You may yet win something that is more dear:

Do you suppose this mortar and brick of which you have now been rid –
             – was their goal for raising against you Alfonso and El Çid?
No, no! It is something you carry along with you unseen
Whether in Tangier or in far Ṣín, something keen in your mien
             Oh old man, you say, has this thing no name?
             No name, only an ineffable fame
It is that thing by which when Ţáriq first arrived on this land
             Was brought down from the ninth arc of heaven this Great Command:
             That this land should so flourish and splendor in heart and clay
             That it should be ecstatic in its piety and in its play
             Such that it should raise one like the Sage of Cantillana
             Where before this none had known the heavenly arcana;
             That it should raise one like the Great Master of Seville
             Who put on the letter of saintless the signet seal
             And raise out of its dust such grandeur as Zah’ra 
             And the red gold and towers of Alhambra
             That is the thing
It is the thing that took the Persians truly to Pleiades
And made of barefoot Bedouins exalted lords and ladies
In the Levant raised Damascus and Baghdád
Where before there was no splendor to be had
             That is the thing
That Granada should fall only carries it elsewhere, if –
             – if you do not sigh it out on ‘Bú Abdil’s cliff
If you have it, Andalus is all places and all times –
             – the sapling you may plant even while Isráfíl chimes
             That is the thing
My dear friends, this Granada for which you are crying the world
Is sitting unvanquished in your heart waiting to be beheld
             That is the thing
Its arts, poetry, and its science, its olives, figs, and its vines
Its carved stones and sunny homes sung in melodic lines
If you would clear your frown, you would find it arches on your brow
No wind that has ever soughed round any Andalusian bough
Is sweeter than its living air that courses through you right now
             That is the thing
Brick by brick, build yourself up to be a walking Granada
In your speech like its poets, stalwart like its Sierra Nevada
Like the best of its scholars in breadth of curiosity 
Like the best of its craftsmen in scope of virtuosity
In generosity like the best of its nobility
Like its drawn swords in resolution and intrepidity
All of this is in you:
             That is the thing
It is with you at all times and with you at all places
No matter your rank or wealth and no matter your races
Berber Zenáta, Arab of Hátim, or Malian Súdán
It binds you all into this one bloodless clan
             That is the thing

al-Bakri of Huelva knew all the lands of the earth
Though he hardly strayed far from the place of his birth
And al-Warraq who folded all the world in his mind
Never left Guadalajara many miles behind
Just so you may recover all that has been lost
Without violence of arms and at no martial cost 
You may refuse to leave all from which you part
If you carry it all with that force of your heart
So it is: the vast earth is in the heart of man
For the Expansive is in the heart of man
Whether he is in Granada or in Ṣín-Kalán
Whether in the land of darkness or in Kordofán
He has afoot the road to an eighth clime
Where all the ways meet at half past time
And there he bears with him all the wide world
And sees his banner over it unfurled
From Guadalquivir up to Granada
And from Zaragoza down to Ronda
Badajoz, Niebla and all in Murcia
Huelva, Tortosa and also Valencia
And if he wished, he alone with his sole might
Could put all the lords of Aragon to flight
He could make Castille and Navarre his own 
And Léon and other lands beyond unknown
All this I have said, and now I return to its head:
It is useless to mourn the beauty of dawn past the crack of morn
Moonlight is beautiful no less than daylight
You must make Granada anew,
             though you be many, though you be few.

---

1. 897 AH/ 1492 CE: In this year the Reconquista ended with the conquest of Alhambra by the joint forces of Los Reyes (“The Royals”), Isabella I of Castile and Feardinand II of Aragon, and the dissolution of the Emirate of Granada, the last independent Islamic polity in Iberia. [↩]
2. Rabicano: A horse coat color of black with white speckling. [↩]
3. ‘My Plato and my Galen…’: Cf. Rumi, Mathnawi, Book 1, Line 24. [↩]
4. Mulhacén: A mountain of Granada, named after Moulay Hasan (Abu’l-Hasan ‘Alí Ibn Sa‘d, on whom see Moulay Zaghal below). [↩]
5. Genil and Hadarro: The two rivers that run through Granada. [↩]
6. Mashrabiyya: A kind of Arabesque bay window. [↩]
7. Blue roan palfrey: Blue roan is a horse coat color of any dark shade mixed with white so as to give the coat a bluish look. A palfrey is a “docile horse used for ordinary riding…” (Oxford Languages). [↩]
8. Indian sword of Damascus steel: In classical Arab culture, and especially in Arabic poetry, Indian-made swords had a reputation for being fine and well-made and thus became almost a genericized name for any very good sword. It could also refer to a sword forged from Indian steel, a kind of steel which is (likely the same as a kind of steel) more frequently called Damascus or damascened steel. [↩]
9. Zaghal: Abu Abdullah Muhammad al-Zaghal (also Muhammad XIII) was ruler of an Emirate of Granada in division between 890-891 AH/1485-1486 CE, during the War of Granada, succeeding his brother Abu’l-Hasan ‘Alí ibn Sa‘d. He was simultaneously fighting against the Christian forces of Ferdinand and Isabella and his nephew, Muhammad XII of Granada (see ‘Bú Abdil below) who had rebelled against his own father, Abu’l-Hasan ‘Alí ibn Sa‘d. He left for North Africa to rally troops to retake Granada but was apparently imprisoned and blinded by a local ruler who was a friend of Boabdil’s, on the latter’s instructions. His epithet al-Zaghal means “The Highly-Spirited”. [↩]
10. “…the raid of Zah’ra…lovely Granada…”: All of these places were battlegrounds of the War of Granada (886-897 AH/1482-1492 CE) whose beginning is usually marked by the attack on the then Christian-held city of Zahara in response to Christian aggression elsewhere. The war began under the reign of Abu’l-Hasan Ali ibn Sa’d, but was pursued primarily by al-Zaghal and Boabdil, and ended in 897 AH/1492 CE with the surrender of Granada by the latter. [↩]
11. ‘Bu Abdil: More commonly spelled Boabdil, a contraction and Spanish corruption of the kunya (teknonym) of Abu Abdullah Muhammad, or simply Muhammad XII, the last Nasrid ruler of Granada. Captured during the War of Granada, he transacted a deal with Los Reyes to be a vassal, rebelling against his father and dividing the emirate. There is evidence Isabella and Aragon intended to use him to divide and conquer Granada. This obviously succeeded and some observers have blamed Boabdil for the fall of Granada. [↩]
12. House of Adnán: Adnán is the earliest certainly known patriarch of one of the genealogical lines of descent from Ishmael, and an ancestor of the Prophet ﷺ, who thus belongs to his “House”. [↩]
13. “And there is no conqueror save God”: [ولا غالب إلا الله] [wa lá gháliba illa-lláh] The motto of the Nasrids of the Emirate of Granada, appearing frequently in architectural elements in the Alhambra, in coats of arms, and on various flags of a series of flags collectively known as ‘alamu-l manṣúr (“Flag of the Victor”), used by various Islamic ruling houses. [↩]
14. “Ţáriq, Yúsuf, and Abdu’r-Rahmán”: Ţáriq Ibn Ziyád: Berber governor of Tangier and first Muslim conqueror of Iberia, who starting in 92 AH/711 CE conquered much of the Iberian Peninsula within a matter of about three years, starting with the defeat of Visigothic king Roderic at the Battle of Guadalete. Yúsuf Ibn Táshfín: Sanhaja Berber ruler of the al-Murábiţún (Almoravid) empire who helped push back Alfonso VI’s advances into Muslim Iberia and re-established an Islamic order within the decadent Iberian Muslim polity. Abdu’r-Rahmán Ibn Mu‘áwiyah Ibn Hishám (known simply as Abdu’r-Rahmán I): remnant of the Banú Umayya who, after escaping the Abbasid slaughter of the dynasty, roamed the Muslim world in exile until finally arriving in Andalus and establishing a new Umayyad dynasty in the Emirate of Córdoba in 138 AH/ 756 CE. [↩]
15. Súdán: A classical Arabic word for Black Africans, from which comes the toponym Biládu’s-Súdán (on which see Kordofán below). [↩]
16. “And, ah…flight”: al-Zaghal, after losses in the War of Granada, went to North Africa to rally the Muslims to defend Granada. (The unfortunate outcome of that journey is mentioned in Moulay Zaghal above). He is thought to have died in Orán, in modern day Algeria. [↩]
17. School of Dáwúd: Dáwúd aẓ-Ẓáhirí, founder of the Ẓáhirí school of fiqh, which along with the Málikí school were the two dominant schools of fiqh in Andalus. [↩]
18. Umarí’s Masálik: Shihabu’d-din Ibn Faḍlu’l-lah al-Umarí’s “Masáliku’l-abṣár fí mamáliku’l-amṣár”, which covers administrative practices of the Mamluk court. [↩]
19. Qánún: The Qánún fi’ţ-Ţibb (Canon of Medicine), Ibn Sina’s famous medical textbook, used widely in the Islamicate world and, in translation, in Medieval Europe. [↩]
20. Tables of Zarqalí: Also known as the Tables of Toledo, a set of astronomical mathematical tables produced in Andalus in the 11th century by a team including the notable astronomer, mathematician, and toolmaker, Ibráhim Ibn Yahyá al-Zarqalí, known in Europe for his work as Arzachel. [↩]
21. Abú’ṣ-Ṣält: Abú’ṣ-Ṣält Umayya Ibn ʿAbdu’l-ʿAzíz Ibn Abí’ṣ-Ṣält, Andalusian pharmacologist, mathematician, and astronomer of the 5th and 6th centuries AH/11th and 12th centuries CE. [↩]
22. Kibrít and al-qálí: Kibrít is sulfur, especially in its alchemical aspect. Al-qálí was a potash used in early chemistry in the Islamicate world and is the word from which the English alkali(ne) is derived. [↩]
23. Almagest: Ptolemy’s important book of astronomy long in use in the Classical and Medieval worlds. It came to be well known in its Arabic translation in the Medieval world, from whence the title, al-Majisţí (the Arabic itself likely a transcription of the Greek “megiste”), “The Great [Book of Astronomy]”. [↩]
24. Hay’ah: The Kitáb al-Hay’ah of the Andalusian jurist and astronomer Núru’d-dín Ibn Isháq al-Biṭrújí, which forwarded novel criticisms of Ptolemy which influenced European astronomers, like Copernicus, who would finally overthrow the Ptolemaic system. [↩]
25. Astrolabe of Sijzí: Abú Sa‘íd Ahmad Ibn Muhammad as-Sijzí was a well-regarded astronomer from Sijistán who argued for a heliocentric solar system and apparently designed an astrolabe on the assumption of heliocentrism. [↩]
26. Zíj, zairja: Zíj were compendia of astronomical tables compiled and published across the Islamicate world. Zairja was a sort of letter-based aleatoric divinatory device with an obscure history in the Maghreb; the art of zairja might have inspired Ramon Lull’s Ars Magna. [↩]
27. Yad-al-Jawzá: Star in the constellation Orion. By corruption (and a misreading of the leading yá as bá), became Betelgeuse in Europe. Other etymologies have been floated: for instance, there appear to be instances in Arabic of the star being called “Ibt-al-Jawzá’”. Yet other etymologies are “Bat-al-Jawzá’” or “Bit-al-Jawzá’” or “Bayt-al-Jawzá’”. [↩]
28. Gháyat: Full title Gháyatu’l-Hakím (“Goal of the Wise”). A very controversial and anonymously authored book of sigils and astral charms well known in the Maghreb and Andalus. It was also well known in the Latin West under its translated title of Picatrix. Ibn Khaldun suggested it was written by Andalusian astronomer, mathematician, and chemist Maslama al-Majrítí, but this is very unlikely. [↩]
29. Tufayli: Of Ibn Tufayl, whose Hayy Ibn Yaqẓán tells the allegorical story of an orphan abandoned on a deserted island who by autodidactic observation and reason alone reaches perfect scientific and theological knowledge. The story was intended to argue for the great capacity of unaided reason and the harmony between reason and revelation. [↩]
30. “…Abdu’r-Rahmán…Aide-of-the-Faith of God”: Abdu’r-Rahmán Ibn Muhammad, (Abdu’r-Rahmán III), honorifically named an-Náṣir li díni’l-láh (Aide-of-the-Faith of God), ruler of the emirate of Córdoba (which in 316 AH/929 CE he declared a caliphate, re-establishing the Umayyad claim to the caliphate and opposing the Abbasids in the east). He was a notable patron of culture and learning in the history of Andalus. [↩]
31. “…al-Hakam, Victor-by-the-will-of-God”: Abu’l-Ás al-Hakam Ibn Abdu’r-Rahmán, (al-Hakam III), honorifically, al-Mustanṣir bil-láh (Victor-by-the-will-of-God), son of Abdu’r-Rahman III (see immediately above) and second ruler of the Caliphate of Córdoba. Also a notable patron of culture and learning in the history of Andalus. [↩]
32. “Let us stop here a moment and weep…”: Opening line (and thus name, given Arabic literary naming traditions) of Imru’l-Qays’ poem (one of the mu’allaqát), “Qifá nabki…”, sometimes used allusively in contexts of parting from a beloved one. [↩]
33. Mudajjan: During and after the Reconquista, many Muslims fled Andalus, but some remained, and these came to be known, in Spanish, as Mudéjar or, in Arabic, Mudajjan or ahl ad-dajn (referring, respectively, to their subject status or their decision to stay behind), a sort of treaty people whose status was likely modeled on the dhimmi model. [↩]
34. “…renounce your faith or feign!”: The status of the Mudéjar was always a fragile one, because while the situation might have been modeled on the dhimmi relationship, there was no proper religious sanction or moral guarantee for their toleration as in the dhimmi relationship. And with the ascendancy of the intolerant Cardinal Cisneros, all hell broke loose, both for the Mudéjar and Jews living in the Iberian Peninsula, with forced conversions and expulsions the order of the day. Some Jews and Muslims converted but continued to practice their religions in secret. [↩]
35. Muqarna: An architectural element developed and primarily found in the architecture of the Islamic world which looks like a concave magnified honeycomb. It usually appeared in domes and the unique portico of Islamic architecture known as an íwán. [↩]
36. “The conquered man of Marbella”: After the Castilian conquest of Marbella in 890 AH/1485 CE, the question of a Muslim man who had at first only stayed behind in the city to look for his brother who had been lost in action fighting the Castilians (but who later decided to stay for good to be a spokesperson for the subjugated Muslims) reached Qádí al-Wansharísí (see Wansharísí below). He composed a fatwa in response to the question of whether the maslaha (public benefit) involved in the man choosing to stay behind as the only capable spokesperson was sufficient grounds for living under Castilian rule. In this fatwa, often called the “Marbella fatwa”, Wansharísí answered in the negative. [↩]
37. Ferdinand and Isabella: See 897 AH/ 1492 CE. [↩]
38. Wansharísí: Ahmad al-Wansharísí, a leading jurist from Ouanchariss (in modern day Algeria) who taught and served as legal expert across North Africa, and was particularly concerned about the status of Muslims in Andalus in the last days of Muslim rule there. [↩]
39. Ţáriq’s narrow sea: The Strait of Gibraltar. “Gibraltar” is a corruption of Jabalu’ţ-Ţáriq (Ţáriq’s Mountain, i.e. the Rock of Gibraltar, where Ţáriq Ibn Ziyád [see “Ţáriq, Yúsuf, and Abdu’r-Rahmán” above] is said to have first made landfall on the Iberian Peninsula). [↩]
40. Mi’yár al-Mu’rib: A multi-volume compendium of fatwas by Maghrebi and Andalusian scholars collected by al-Wansharísí, including important fatwas on the subject of Muslims living under Castilian rule. [↩]
41. [Arabic opening lines of the Mi’yár al-Mu’rib]: In transliteration:
    “al-hamdulilláhi‘l-mutafaḍil bi-ijábati‘s-su’áli / Al-mutaţáwil bi-ifaḍati’n-ni’áli / Fátihu abwábu‘l-amáli / al-ba‘ídati‘l-munáli…” [↩]
42. Muwwashshahát: (Plural of muwwashshah)A form of very musical poetry which developed and flourished in Andalus. [↩]
43. Zajal: Similar to the muwwashshahát (see immediately above), but composed typically in the local Andalusian dialect of Arabic. [↩]
44. Kámil: One of the meters of traditional Arabic poetry. In the traditional scale its measure is given as “mutafá’ilun mutafá’ilun mutafá’ilun”. [↩]
45. Minstrel Dáwúd: The prophet Dáwúd (David) عليه السلام, who is traditionally identified as author of the songs of the Psalms. [↩]
46. “Wallada…Zaydún”: Both Wallada Bint al-Mustakfi and Ibn Zaydún were notable poets of their time and were believed to have been romantically interested in each other and to have exchanged poetry as a result. Wallada was the daughter of Muhammad III, the caliph of Córdoba from 414-416 AH/1024-1025 CE. [↩]
47. Mirlo Ziryáb: Ziryáb was the leading musician and theoretician of musician in Andalus and across the Muslim world in his lifetime (during the third Hijri century/ninth century of the Common Era), serving in the Abbasid court in Baghdad, the court of the Muslim rulers of southern Italy, and finally in the Umayyad court at Córdoba. He was particularly proficient with the oud and was also an all-round cultural innovator in “fine living”. He is often called in Spanish “Mirlo”, the “blackbird” and his name Ziryab is itself a Farsi word (reflecting his Persian extraction) for a songbird; his real name was Abu’l-Hasan ‘Ali Ibn Náfi’. [↩]
48. Rundí’s Ritha’: A famous elegiac poem composed by Abú Ţayyib al-Rundí (also known as Abu’l-Baqá’ al-Rundí) following the fall of Córdoba and other Muslim polities, well before the fall of Granada itself. In the poem Rundí calls to the rest of the Muslim world to rise and defend Andalus, to no avail. [↩]
49. Sabtah: The city of Ceuta, now a Spanish exclave in North Africa. [↩]
50. “…Dhí Yazan, Shaddád, and Qahtán…Sassán”: All referred to in Rundí’s Rithá’. [↩]
51. “…Kisra…Yemen”: All referred to in Rundí’s Rithá’. [↩]
52. “Of crosses in our mihrábs…”: This is an image evoked in Rundí’s Rithá’. [↩]
53. “Jativa…Valencia”: All places whose falls were lamented in Rundí’s Rithá’. [↩]
54. “Mashrifi sword”: A kind of sword, which is apparently very keen, alluded to in Rundí’s Rithá’. [↩]
55. Mudéjar: See Mudajjan above. [↩]
56. Alfonso and El Çid: Alfonso I of Aragon and Navarre, also known as Alfonso the Battler, who fought frequently against the Muslims in Andalus during the late 400s-early 500s AH/12th century CE. He died fighting the Murábiţún (see “Ţáriq, Yúsuf, and Abdu’r-Rahmán” above) at the Battle of Fraga. El Çid (corruption of the Arabic as-sayyid, “the master”), whose real name was Rodrigo Díaz de Vivar, was an independent and mercenary Christian soldier who sometimes fought against Muslims and sometimes against Christians in Andalus and ruled over parts of the Iberian Peninsula. He appears to have been respected across the religious divide and his life is romanticized in an anonymous Castilian epic titled El Cantar de mio Çid (The Song of my Çid). [↩]
57. Ṣín: China (Arabic). [↩]
58. Ninth arc of heaven: In traditional cosmologies of the Medieval world, there were seven celestial spheres (here “arc”) beyond which was the sphere of the fixed stars, beyond which was the throne of God, or the sphere of the non-material – to be brought down from the ninth arc thus means to be divinely decreed. [↩]
59. Sage of Cantillana: Abú Madyan Shu‘ayb al-Ansárí al-Andalusí, the 6th century AH/12th century CE Andalusian mystic born in the little town of Cantillana, near Seville. [↩]
60. Great Master of Seville: Muhíu’d-dín Ibn ‘Arabí, the Andalusian mystic born in Seville who has often been called Shaykhu’l-Akbar (The Greatest Master) for the breadth of his spiritual experience and intellectual erudition. [↩]
61. Pleiades: A star-cluster well-known to the ancient Arabs as ath-Thurayyá. In a famous hadith the Prophet ﷺ says while speaking of Salmán al-Farísí (Salmán the Persian) رضي الله عنه, “If faith were as [far away as] ath-Thurayyá, even then [some] men from [his] people would go to acquire it.” (al-Bukhárí’s Sahíh, Book 65 [Book on Prophetic Commentary]). [↩]
62. ‘Bú Abdil’s Cliff: There is a mountain pass in the Sierra Nevada (see Sierra Nevada below), in the region of Alpurajjas, where ‘Bú Abdil (see ‘Bú Abdil above), after surrendering Granada, on his way into exile, is said to have stopped and looked over Andalus one last time and sighed heavily. The pass is now named Puerto del Suspiro del Moro (Pass of the Moor’s Sigh). It is said that in response to his grief his mother said to him, “Weep like a woman for what you could not defend like a man.” [↩]
63. “It is the sapling…chimes”: In a famous hadith, the Prophet ﷺ remarked, “”If the Hour (of Judgment) were to arrive while you had a sapling in your hands and it is possible to plant it before [the Hour’s] coming into effect, you should plant it.” (al-Bukhárí’s Adabu’l-Mufrad, Book 27 [The Book of Attending to the Affairs of the World]). [↩]
64. Sierra Nevada: (Not to be mistaken with the North American mountain range of the same name.) Mountain range in southern Spain, running through the region of Granada. [↩]
65. “…Zenata…Hátim…Súdán”: The Zenata are a famous Berber tribe. The clan of Hátim is a famous Arabian clan of the tribe of Ţa’í to which many Andalusian Arabs traced their descent (the progenitor of the clan is the famous Hátim aţ-Ţa’í). On Súdán see Súdán above. [↩]
66. al-Bakri: 5th century AH/11th century CE Andalusian geographer who wrote a famous book of geography, Kitáb al-Masálik wa’l-Mamálik (The Book of Roads and Kingdoms) without, as far as it is known, having ever stepped outside the Iberian Peninsula. [↩]
67. al-Warraq: 3rd-4th century AH/10th century CE Andalusian geographer born in Guadalajara who spent some time in North Africa, but, it appears, never went farther than that. [↩]
68. Ṣín-Kalán: Classical name for Guangzhou used by some Persian and Arabic writers, for instance Ibn Battúta in his Rihla. [↩]
69. Land of darkness: A semi-legendary part of the world in Medieval geographies said to be shrouded in permanent darkness; likely near-Arctic parts of northern Europe where there are extended periods of darkness in the winter because the sun never properly rises, as suggested by Ibn Faḍlán’s description of part of the Nordic world as “The Land of Darkness”. [↩]
70. Kordofán: An area of the region formerly known as the Biládu’s-Súdán (sub-Saharan and Sahelian Africa), a region which metonymically marked the southerly limit to the known world. Now a collection of provinces in the country of Sudan. [↩]
71. Eighth clime: In Classical and Medieval geographies, the world was divided into seven regions known as climes. On the mysterious “eighth clime”, sometimes called in Arabic al-‘alamu’l-mithál (“the realm of similitude”) or in Persian ná-kojá-abád (“the land of non-where”), a kind of inner universe where transcendent meanings take on embodied forms, see Henri Corbin, “Mundus Imaginalis, or the Imaginary and the Imaginal”. [↩]
72. “All this…head”: A locutionary device for closing a poetic performance in Arabic literature by referring to the opening lines of the poem, usually with the phrase “Aqúlú fí maţla‘ihá:…” and then repeating the opening. [↩]