January 25, 750 C.E. The fate of the Umayyad Dynasty was sealed on the banks of the Great Zab as the Black Banner of the Abbasids chased survivors of the hitherto invincible rulers of Damascus exterminating them to a man but for one notable exception.
Abd al-Rahman I (Al Dakhel or “Hawk of Quraysh”) managed to escape the massacre and reach the Iberian Peninsula in 755 C.E. where he proceeded to conquer a kingdom for himself and his descendants thereby duplicating -and surpassing- the exploits of the Carthaginian House of Barca all the way back in the 3rd Century B.C.E.
Syria in general, and Damascus in particular, have never forgotten the Umayyad. Whatever their shortcomings, they were Syrians, loved Syria, and promoted its interests. Their immense empire was heterogeneous in the extreme and as a result, they were constantly combating foreign foes while suppressing "domestic" rebellions in Hijaz, Iraq, Khurasan, and elsewhere. They nevertheless managed to embellish Damascus with its imposing and still dominant Great Mosque while endowing Jerusalem with its no less glorious Dome of the Rock, to mention but two of their achievements. Syrians and Damascenes never ceased to sing the praises of the Umayyad and it is only natural that they would reserve a warm spot in their heart for the distant Spanish branch of their beloved rulers and, by extension, to the entire Eldorado that was Andalusia. The Arab conquerors of Spain would have their names bestowed on Syrian schools and Damascene quarters; even the Syrian Tobacco Company would market brands named after Alhambra and Granada.
Reality is, however, less romantic. For whatever was the origin of those “Arab Conquistadors”, it was a matter of time before they would acquire the identity of their adopted land. Heck, it took me less than 8 years from my arrival to the USA in 1985 to become a US citizen in word as well as in deed whereas my kids are literally native Americans. One could of course argue that, in the Dark Ages, things were dramatically different as the concept of “nation” was non-existent, but I would nevertheless maintain that the accumulation of years and miles is bound to have the ultimate say on creating a new identity, all the more so in an age when the means of communication were precarious and travel was downright dangerous. Conclusion? The “Arabs” of Spain were as Spaniards as anyone else, if not in the first generation, then certainly in the numerous generations that followed over hundreds of years; alas, neither East nor West seems to have seriously entertained what should be as elementary as ABC.
So how should we call those 8th Century newcomers to Spain? Were they Syrians? The answer would most certainly be no though to be sure some of them were. They were not Arabs either for quite few of them, including the illustrious Tariq ibn Ziyad, were Berbers from North Africa. They were not “Saracens” since many came from “Maghrib”. Closer to reality would be that they were Muslims but one should keep in mind that when Catholicism reclaimed Spain, its adherents evicted (or exterminated) -in addition to Iberian Muslims- not only the Jews, but also the Moriscos (that is the Spanish Muslims who converted to Christianity in the vain hope of earning toleration). Very well, let’s call them -by default- the way Catholic Spain did: the Moors, a term loosely -and contemptuously- employed to describe “others” who looked darker, adopted (or were suspected to adopt) a different faith, and whose ancestors came from “somewhere else in the Southeast”.
The history taught in the schools of modern Syria maintains that the Arabs (to Westerners Moors) presence in Andalusia lasted almost 8 centuries, starting when Tariq crossed Gibraltar in 711 C.E. and ending with the Fall of Granada in 1492. While there is some truth in this narrative, it is so imprecise as to be misleading.
For Andalusia, for all practical purposes did not fall towards the end of the 15th Century, rather in the middle of the 13th. Abu Al Baqaa al Randi, whose sad but beautiful ode mourned the fall of his beloved Utopia, died in 1285, more than 200 years before the Fall of Granada. The conflict that pitted Europeans versus Moors began shortly after Tariq brought the Visigothic Kingdom to an end and his successors raided Southern Gaul before they were repulsed at Poitiers by Charles Martel. Charlemagne, the first Holy Roman Emperor, continued the struggle and it seems neither he nor the Abbasid Harun al-Rashid had scruples joining efforts against their common Umayyad enemy.
It nevertheless is true that for more than 2 centuries, the Moorish presence in Spain was not just secure, but prosperous and bountiful. The Umayyad Caliphate rivaled the Abbasids and Fatimid in wealth and prestige while the European North languished in the late Dark Ages that were the 9th and 10th centuries C.E. The end of the beginning was when the Cordoba Umayyad followed their Damascene ancestors into oblivion early in the 11th Century to be replaced by the “Taifa Kingdoms”, petty principalities, warring among themselves and often enlisting the aid of their “Spanish” enemies against each other. To be sure the Moorish cities hosted a brilliant civilization despite their political deterioration but political decline would sooner or later translate into economic decline even were we to exclude outside predators.
The fall of Toledo in 1085 was to mark the beginning of the end. To be sure, the Moors called on their North African Brethrens who mounted a credible counter attack first under the almoravids (who defeated Alfonso VI but still fell short of recovering Toledo) and secondly under Almohads (followers of Ibn Tumart). The struggle was to last for an about 150 years before the Moors were decisively defeated at the Battle of Las Navas de Tolosa in 1212. One great city after another fell to the Reconquista: Cordoba fell in 1236, Seville in 1248, etc.. By 1252 only the Kingdom of Granada remained, protected by its mountainous terrain as well as a heavy tribute paid by its king to his Castilian overlord. Granada went so far as to help Castile conquer Seville along with other Moorish strongholds.
Granada was thus capable of enjoying a long Indian Summer during which Moorish culture and architecture flowered as seldom before. Refugees from the Spanish Reconquista flocked into the tiny kingdom that thrived on the trade of the Western Mediterranean (at least till the geographic discoveries of the 15th centuries started to bypass that sea altogether). Delighting in their gardens and palaces, the hedonistic Nasrid rulers seemed to have forgotten that Andalusia was virtually no more. To them, Al-Randi was a distant memory, if they remembered him at all.
Old habits die hard. Muhammad XII “Boabdil”, the last king of Granada was incapable of comprehending -let alone facing- the imminent danger that the united Kingdoms of Aragon and Castile represented. The Nasrids continued the Moorish tradition of internecine fighting practiced time and again by “Muluk al-Tawaef” including a Faustian Deal every now and then, with their covetous Northern neighbors. Granada finally succumbed to the inevitable and surrendered to the triumphant Crusaders on January 2nd, 1492. The curtain descended on this tragedy with the immortal words of Boabdil’s mother, reproaching him for weeping like a woman for a lost kingdom he could not defend as a man.
Post-mortem analysis is easy. Perhaps Andalusia was bound to fall in a fanatical age when victors offered no quarter. It also is true that the “Spaniards” also quarreled among each other and did not hesitate to call on outside help when push came to shove. The Fall of Constantinople (first to the Crusaders in 1204 and secondly to the Ottomans in 1453) clearly illustrates the universality of this phenomenon, namely seeking the help of your perennial and natural enemies for the sake of temporary gains at the expense of your kinsfolk.
Corrupted from within and attacked from without, Andalusia imploded by the middle of the 13th Century and its surviving remnant finally crumbled in 1492. Let’s keep beloved Syria in our thoughts.
