POWER AND LEGITIMACY IN THE MEDIEVAL MUSLIM WORLD: THE

CAREER OF IMAD AL-DIN ZENGI (1085-1146)

by Nicholas D. Belotto

A Thesis Submitted to the Faculty of The Dorothy F. Schmidt College of Arts and Letters in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree of Master of Arts

Florida Atlantic University Boca Raton, Florida December 2014

Copyright 2014 by Nicholas D. Belotto

ii

POWER AND LEGITIMACY IN THE MEDIEVAL MUSLIM WORLD: THE CAREER OF IMAD AL-DIN ZENGI (1085-1146)

List of Figures…………………………………………………………………………….v I. Introduction………………………...... ……………………………………………...... 1 II: Political Arena of the Saljuqs.…….…………………………………………………..21 II: Political Relationships………………………………………………………..…...... 57 III: Religious and Ideological Manipulation.……………………………………...……..96 IV: Conclusion………………………………………………………………………….125 Appendices……………………………………………………………………………..135 Bibliography……………………………………………………………………………140

iv FIGURES Figure 1. Map of the Abbasid Empire, eighth-twelfth century………………………...130 Figure 2. Map of the Extent of the Saljuq Empire, late twelfth century……………….131 Figure 3. Map of the by 1109…………………………………………132 Figure 4. Map of the Zengid State by 1144…………………………………………….133 Figure 4. Timeline of Events…………………………………………………………...134

v ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS The author wishes to express his sincere thanks to a number of people who assisted in the development of this project, whether they held direct influence or provided much needed encouragement. Kate Dahlstrand provided a strong example of what it took to succeed at this level and aided my transition into the program. Matt Salcito and Mike

Makosiej provided academic insight and extensive debates, which freed the mind and provided hours of entertainment away from work. David Joy and Hallie Kamen provided strong friendships throughout my involvement in this project and gave me with the opportunities to step away from my work, which benefited every piece of my research and writing. Mike Bourgault, TJ Bowman and Matt Dietz always provided laughter and entertainment. Their friendships are immeasurable.

The faculty and staff at Florida Atlantic University made the entire process more enjoyable. Zella Linn was always available to answer questions, always had a smile on her face and an unmatched desire to assist, wherever necessary. Dr. Kollander showed interest in my project and assisted me, not only as a mentoring professor, but also in making sure all of the nuts and bolts to this degree were in the correct places.

Dr. Breslow and Dr. Lowe provided numerous ideas and recommendations while also giving countless words of encouragement throughout this process. Dr. Hanne shifted my interests in history from a western interpretation of the to an Islamic vantage point. This shift has been nothing but beneficial to my interests and I could not thank him enough for not only pointing me in the direction of this research but for also

vi every piece of assistance and help throughout this process. I will always cherish the discussions, laughter and assistance from these professors, as they molded me into the historian I am today.

My mother provided nothing but assistance and encouragement throughout this process. She consistently read through drafts of my work, even if she did not recognize the many names and places mentioned throughout. With the passing of my father, she has been a foundation for my growth academically and as a person. I cannot thank her enough for all of the hard work she has done for my brothers and I. My brothers, Jeremy and Jon, gave their support to me throughout this process. My extended family, Aunts,

Uncles, Grandparents, and cousins always provided encouraging assistance and entertained my desire to discuss my work. I know if he were here, my father would be proud of this accomplishment and this thought has given me strength to continue even when the obstacles abounded.

My loving girlfriend did nothing but support me. There are not enough words to express my appreciation for her and her assistance as well as her undying support for me throughout this program. All I can say is thank you, Zu.

vii ABSTRACT Author: Nicholas D. Belotto Title: Power and Legitimacy in the Medieval Muslim World: The Career of Imad al-Din Zengi (1085-1146) Institution: Florida Atlantic University Thesis Advisor: Dr. Eric Hanne Degree: Master of History Year: 2014

While known for his accomplishments surrounding the Fall of in 1144, the career of Imad al-Din Zengi receives little coverage in the modern Historiography on the

Crusades. Even though the careers of other famous Muslim warriors during the

Crusading period tend to overshadow his accomplishments, Zengi had a remarkable career which provided him the opportunities to advance his own agenda within the larger

Saljuq political structure. This structure allowed Zengi the opportunity to establish power within the (modern day , ). Zengi succeeded in further stabilizing his own military position through manipulation of both political relationships and religious practices, specifically the calling for and waging of jihad, both of which allowed him to build toward developing his own independence from the Saljuq sultanate.

viii INTRODUCTION

The concept of power and authority is important to the overall historiography of the Crusading period. The study of the Crusades has provided an effective glimpse into the minds of the Crusaders themselves, but in order to understand the Crusades in a holistic view, it is necessary to discuss the socio-political makeup of the Islamic world during this period. Understanding the way both power and authority functioned within the Muslim lands allows historians the opportunity to further the study of the Crusades and break from the Crusader perspective in order to develop a more complete understanding of the era.1

The began in 489/10962, a year after Pope Urban II gave his famous speech at the Council of Clermont. Urban envisioned this crusade as an armed pilgrimage, with the intent of taking back the city of from the Muslims, establishing safe routes for later pilgrimages, and pushing the boundaries of western

Christianity further to the east. The First Crusade lasted three years, ending with the taking of Jerusalem in 492/1099. By 502/1109, the Crusading forces, led by members of the French , had established four “ States” in Edessa, , Jerusalem and Tripoli. These states grew in power and expanded their control of the area for half a

1The concepts of power and authority differ throughout this period. While different, however, they are both crucial to the success of a ruler or figure of authority. Power refers to the physical ability to force others to act under your jurisdiction, while authority is the right given to a ruler to force others to do one’s bidding. Jacques Maritain, Man and the State, (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1951), 126.

2Dates from here on will consist of both the Islamic calendar and the Gregorian calendar. (e.g., 541/1144)

1 century in light of the Muslim forces failure to take back any of the established Crusader outposts. During the following half century, these Crusader states grew in power and expanded their territories. The Muslim inability to retake the Crusader-conquered territories changed, however, in 539/1144 when Imad al-Din Zengi (d. 541/1146) they took back the city of Edessa from the Crusaders. The fall of Edessa gave rise to more bloodshed and fighting between Franks and Muslims in the (539-

543/1145-1149), which also led to the unification of Muslim forces under Nur al-Din (d.

570/1174), and his jihad against the crusaders.3 The strengthening of Muslim lands under Nur al-Din continued through the reign of his successor Salah al-Din (d.

589/1193)4, whose retaking of Jerusalem sparked the call for the (583-

587/1188-1192).5 While Nur al-Din and Salah al-Din (Saladin) experienced success against the crusading forces, their achievements overshadow the accomplishments of other figures, whose actions deserve mention for a greater understanding of the Crusades, especially from a Muslim perspective. The coverage of Imad al-Din Zengi b. Aqsunqur

(477-541/1085-1146)6, the Muslim warrior responsible for the retaking of Edessa,

3 Jonathan Phillips and Martin Hoch. “Introduction: The Second Crusade in History and Research,” in The Second Crusade: Scope and Consequences, ed. Jonathan Phillips and Martin Hoch (Manchester, NY: Manchester University Press, 2001), 3. The Second Crusade began in 1147, when Conrad III of Germany and Louis VII of embarked on the journey, not to Jerusalem, but to . The Second Crusade was not successful and the two men returned to their respective homes following their unsuccessful . Carole Hillenbrand, The Crusades: Islamic Perspectives (Chicago: Fitzroy Dearborn Publishers 1999), 22-3. For Information on Nur al-Din, see Encyclopedia of , 2nd ed., s.v. “Nur al-Din Mahmud b. Zanki,” 127-33.

4Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Salah al-Din,” 910-15. The Encyclopedia of Islam functions as a biographical compilation of scholarly articles covering all of the major figures throughout the course of Islamic history.

5For information on the Third Crusade, please consult: Thomas F. Madden, A New Concise History of the Crusades (Lanham, MD: Rowman and Littlefield Publishers, 2006), 63-95.

6Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Zangi,” 451-52.

2 receives little attention from modern Crusader historians because he did not direct the entirety of his actions against the Crusading forces. Despite the lack of discussion, however, Zengi’s career deserves examination. By viewing Zengi’s actions through the lens of power politics as opposed to the lens of the crusader, the porous political arena of the Muslim world during the period is highlighted. Zengi’s actions in Edessa cemented him as a Muslim hero, eulogized for his success on the battlefield as well as his overall defense of Islam. The question remains, however, as to who Zengi was and how he succeeded in establishing power as well as authority and continued to maintain it in a decentralized Muslim Empire.

Zengi used the loose political structure of the Saljuq Empire as a conduit for conducting his own affairs and establishing his own political autonomy.7 Zengi succeeded in manipulating relationships between other political figures to achieve his goals. Towards the end of his career, specifically during the period in which he retook

Edessa, Zengi also used religious ideology to gather support for his cause, despite the fact that he had no desire to wage a war to defend the Muslim lands from the Crusaders. As this thesis will argue, Zengi focused his efforts on the central goal of establishing independence within the Saljuq political system. By his death in 541/1146, Zengi succeeded in this endeavor through his successful navigation of the political system of the Saljuqs, the manipulation of the relationships he forged with members of the political structure, and his utilization of religious ideological practices as a means to attract

Muslim forces to join his cause.

7Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Saldjukids,” 936-78. 3

Zengi needed to establish his autonomous position within the larger Saljuq

Empire to promote his own agenda. The Saljuq political structure allowed local rulers such as Zengi the opportunity to establish power in a quick and effective fashion. The

Saljuqs operated under a decentralized system of government, through which they disseminated their power through different governors, family members and those who held political offices, such as atabegs, amirs, and shihnas.8 The lack of an established hierarchy within the Saljuq political arena created a porous political system that gave figures such as Zengi numerous opportunities to advance their personal claims to power and support their own political and military agendas. Throughout the succession crises of Beg, , and Malikshah, the unestablished hierarchy also caused increasing levels of “household politics” playing themselves out on the regional stage. As constant fighting continued to plague the Saljuq sultanate, the sultans began to rely on amirs and atabegs for support. These figures had originally held less power than that of the , but as the sultan’s power and authority waned, these figures’ influence grew.

Through this internecine fighting, the Sultanate weakened in power while the various military governors began to see a dramatic increase in prestige. By 512/1118, after the death of sultan Muhammad b. Malikshah, the weakened Sultanate splintered into two sections of the Empire, with Mahmud b. Muhammad taking control of the Empire in the

West and Sanjar b. Malikshah taking control in the East.9 Zengi used the weakened state

8These political offices proved important to the functioning of the Saljuq political system and will receive in depth coverage throughout this work.

9Upon Muhammad b. Malikshah’s death, Sanjar took control of the Sultanate. After defeating Mahmud, who had opposed Sanjar’s reign, Mahmud recognized Sanjar’s strength and claim to the throne as the eldest Saljuq family member and became his heir. Sanjar left Mahmud in power in the west, establishing the Saljuqs of Iraq, a separate entity from Sanjar’s portion of the empire, and moved the cap ital of his portion of the Empire to Rayy. Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Sandjar,” 15. 4 of the sultans to take positions within the Saljuq government and use them to advance his own political plan.

The Abbasids, who took control of the in 132/750, represent another group of figures with which Zengi had political interactions. The caliph had witnessed a reduction in military power beginning with the occupation of by the Buyids in

334/945. The caliph became simply a “legitimating authority,” losing the ability to choose successors and administer his lands.10 Yet, as the Saljuqs forced the Buyids out of

Iraq and the Saljuqs and Abbasids developed relatively harmonious relationships, the

Abbasids began slowly rebuilding the power they had lost. By the time of Zengi, the caliph had begun to reestablish himself as more than an authoritative figure, developing his military capabilities further.11 The caliphs still functioned as a source of legitimation, but began to interact with the various political entities, including Zengi, within the military arena.

In order to develop power in the Islamic world, one needed to establish relationships and enter into oaths with key military and political figures. During his career, Zengi created and broke a number of political relationships and oaths. Zengi needed to establish relationships between the various political leaders, including those who held enormous influence such as the sultans and the figures holding similar military power as Zengi. Zengi’s relationships with these figures were based on the situation at hand, as he chose to sever ties with figures who assisted in his growth of power and

10Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Abbasids,” 20.

11Ibid. 5 willingly supported figures he, at times, disagreed with because of their potential to assist him in achieving his larger goal of establishing independence within the Saljuq system.

Zengi’s use of jihad represents another aspect of his quest for power. During his career, Zengi used the concept of jihad as a method to establish power as well as legitimacy within the Saljuq lands. The core concepts behind jihad, established throughout the spread and development of the Islamic faith from the first/seventh century through the Crusading period, left a peaceful practice open for manipulation. Even though poets and chroniclers respected the achievements at Edessa, Zengi did not attack the city with the hope of defending Islam from a dangerous enemy. There is no definitive evidence within the chronicles that describe Zengi as a religious figure. This lack of evidence weakens the idea that he truly acted in the defense of Islam. Zengi, instead, understood the importance of ideology as a form of legitimacy and used jihad as a tool to coerce soldiers to his cause. This gave Zengi further legitimacy as he successfully waged a jihad against an enemy of Islam.

Although a prominent figure in the Muslim world, existing scholarship about

Zengi remains sparse. Zengi’s exploits do receive discussion in larger works covering the totality of the Crusades or the Muslim response to the Crusades. Zengi’s son Nur al-Din as well as Saladin receive the bulk of the scholarly attention because of their successful defeat of the Crusaders in the Second and Third Crusades. This focus on Nur al-Din and

Saladin, however, ultimately neglects Zengi’s accomplishments and his importance in medieval Islamic history. Although scholars have covered his career within a vast

Crusading narrative and its relation to Islamic history, the intricacies of his relationships with the various political figures deserves attention in order to discover Zengi’s ultimate

6 plan and thus his overall importance in Islamic history. Sources dating from the period that address the Muslim perception of the Crusades exist in minimal quantities and mostly in general histories. Moreover, the sources give the events of the Crusades little recognition. The Crusades were a European phenomenon, not necessarily occupying the minds and political aspirations of the Saljuqs, especially in the years surrounding the First

Crusade. While words spoken by Zengi are non-existent in primary documents, chronicles of the period do provide information on the narrative surrounding his career.

Although a number of sources that exist discuss the Saljuq period through a variety of different avenues, only a few exist in translation.

Ibn al-Athir’s work, al-Kamil fi’l-ta’rikh (c. 630/1232) translated by D. S.

Richards as “The Perfect or Complete Work of History, presents the most complete examination of Zengi’s career.12 Ibn al-Athir’s chronicle of the beginning of the Saljuq

Empire through the Crusading period provides a comprehensive look into Zengi’s military career. Ibn al-Athir also discusses Zengi’s interactions with the various figures of the period, which helps show the reasoning behind his engagement with the other Muslim groups. Supplementing Ibn al-Athir’s work, Richards’ footnotes add to the manuscript and attempt to explain some of the issues that occur within the piece. The Chronicle of

Ibn al-Athir provides the most complete chronicle covering Zengi’s lifetime, despite his pro-Zengid biases.

Even though his chronicle helps to shed light on Zengi’s career, Ibn al-Athir’s biases permeate throughout the work. Ibn al-Athir worked for the Zengid rulers, the

12 Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athīr for the Crusading Period from al-Kāmil fīʼl-taʼrīkh. Part 1: The Years 491-541/1097-1146: The Coming of the Franks and the Muslim Response, trans. by D.S. Richards (Aldershot UK: Ashgate, 2007), vii.

7 dynasty that formed under Zengi’s name.13 He presents a rather favorable view of Zengi throughout his career. Richards notes in the introduction to his work that Ibn al-Athir wrote his chronicles in order to “celebrate the Zankid dynasty and to record the author’s deep sense of obligation both on his own account and on behalf of his family.”14 Ibn al-

Athir’s biases cause the reader to adopt a more skeptical approach to his work, but the information he provides makes Ibn al-Athir’s account important to the understanding of

Zengi’s goals.

Supplementing the work of Ibn al-Athir, Ibn al-Qalanisi’s local history, The

Damascus Chronicle of the Crusades (c. 448/1056), translated by H.A.R. Gibb, traces the initial coming of the Crusading forces through the end of the Second Crusade. His coverage of the Crusading period focuses primarily on the interactions between Muslim and Crusading forces in a parochial manner. Ibn al-Qalanisi covers the Crusading period from a Damascene point of view and tends to discuss only the key events that occurred with regards to the city itself and the key figures that involved themselves in Damascene affairs. He does, however, provide some information on the events within the Saljuq

Empire during the period in question. The Damascus Chronicle of the Crusade offered

“new information” for Crusader historiography.15

13The Zengid Dynasty of Damascus did not start while Zengi lived, and instead truly began under the reign of his son, Nur al-Din.

14Ibid., 2.

15Ibn al-Qalanisi, The Damascus Chronicle of the Crusades, trans. by H.A.R. Gibb (London: Luzac and Company Press, 1967), 12.

8

Ibn al-Qalanisi, a respected member of Damascus, provides information on

Zengi’s career, but not to the same extent as Ibn al-Athir.16 His coverage focuses on

Zengi after he began to establish his power base in Syria and after his appointment as atabeg of . Although Ibn al-Athir looks at Zengi in a positive light, Ibn al-Qalanisi provides a negative interpretation of his exploits. Zengi tried to take Damascus twice during his career, and these attacks affected Ibn al-Qalanisi’s portrayal of him. Despite these biases and the fact that the work, according to Gibb, “presents a one-sided view of the Crusades,” coupled with Ibn al-Athir’s account, Ibn al-Qalanisi provides key information that helps to paint a more complete picture of Zengi’s overall agenda.17

While Ibn al-Qalanisi’s work focuses on the interactions between Zengi and the city of Damascus, Ibn al-Azraq’s A Muslim Principality in Crusader Times: The Early

Artuqid State, (572/1176-1177) a work translated by Carole Hillenbrand, focuses on the atabeg’s interactions with the . Ibn al-Azraq’s chronicle provides supplemental information that not only compliments the work of Ibn al-Athir and Ibn al-Qalanisi, but also provides yet another viewpoint on Zengi’s career. While addressing the rise and rule of the Artuqid rulers in his chronicle, Ibn al-Azraq also provides a history of the Jazira and examines Zengi’s interactions with the various Artuqid princes.18 Ibn al-Azraq focuses on the Saljuq Empire more than Ibn al-Qalanisi, but does not provide the extensive coverage that Ibn al-Athir provides. Ibn al-Azraq’s work does, however,

16Ibid., 8.

17Ibid., 10.

18 Ibn al-Azraq, A Muslim Principality in Crusader Times: The Early Artuqid State, trans. by Carole Hillenbrand (Istanbul: Nederlands Historisch-Archaeologisch Instituut, 1990), 1. For more on the Artuqids, consult Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Artukids,” 662-67.

9 provide different interpretations of the events than Ibn al-Athir and proves useful when examining both works side by side.

A few modern scholarly works have covered Zengi’s career and his overall contribution to the Crusading period, as well as his role in the Saljuq political system.

The historiography surrounding Zengi’s career lacks any definitive discussion of how he rose to power and how his interactions with various political groups either promoted or hindered his campaigns. Zengi’s manipulation of political and religious ideologies received little or no coverage. Because Zengi operated within the period between the First and Second Crusades, his actions do not receive coverage until he comes into direct contact with the Crusader states. Yet, as recent scholarship has addressed the Crusades through a Muslim perspective, Zengi emerges as a crucial figure whose careers helps scholars understand the political arena of the period. Zengi desired independence within the Saljuq Empire. The political arena as well as his political relationships and his manipulation of religious ideologies and practices gave him the tools necessary to achieve his goal of establishing autonomy. Further examination of Zengi’s career and how he established enough power to retake a crusader state forces a reassessment of the power dynamics at play in the period between the Muslims and the Crusaders.

Modern historiography tends to limit its discussion of Zengi to a select few pages.

In Steven Runciman’s three-volume work on the Crusades, his coverage of Zengi occurs throughout the larger Crusading narrative. First published in 1951, Runciman discusses

Zengi in the larger context, yet does not delve into a deep examination of his career,

10 simply providing details surrounding his rise to power.19 Hans Eberhard Mayer, in 1965, took a similar approach to Zengi and merely labeled him as “the great enemy of the

Christians.”20 Mayer, similar to Runciman, discussed Zengi’s career as it pertains to the larger Crusading narrative, yet he does not devote more than a couple of pages to his career.21

Later works tend to follow in the same vein as Runciman’s work with their discussion of Zengi. A new generation of historians began to produce scholarly works on the history of the Crusades, yet neglected to go into depth as to Zengi’s career. Beginning in 1999, Jean Richard, even though he briefly mentioned the idea that Zengi had led a

“unification of Syria,” discussed Zengi in a more brief fashion than Runciman, dedicating only a few pages to Zengi’s career, which covers his interactions with the western powers and the fall of Edessa.22 Jonathan Riley-Smith discussed Zengi in a simplistic fashion, focusing on his taking of Edessa and his subsequent .23 Christopher Tyerman did cover Zengi’s interactions with the Saljuq sultanate, but provided few details regarding the specifics surrounding those interactions.24 Thomas Madden focused on

Zengi’s career, but simply in relation to the overall narrative surrounding the build up to

19Steven Runciman, A History of the Crusades: The (London: Cambridge University Press, 1994), 146-97. Throughout these pages, Runciman discusses Zengi in relation to both Crusader and Byzantine developments in the period.

20Hans Eberhard Mayer, The Crusades (Oxford, NY: Oxford University Press, 1990), 65.

21Ibid., 85-7.

22Jean Richard, The Crusades c. 1071-1291 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1999), 125, 153-54.

23Jonathan Riley-Smith, The Crusades: A History (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2005), 104-5.

24Christopher Tyerman, God’s War: A New History of the Crusades (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2006), 187-88. 11 the Second Crusade. Madden’s discussion of Zengi, however, labels him as a figure determined to execute a jihad against the crusader forces, placing too much weight on his

“religious” endeavors.25 While all of the major crusader histories mention Zengi, none of them address his actions within the political and military arenas of the day simply disscussing his taking of Edessa, without addressing the important factors that led to the fall of the first Crusader State.

Zengi’s career has not yet received the coverage of a large monograph. Despite this, however, certain smaller works attempted to provides a more complete glimpse into

Zengi’s career. In Kenneth Setton’s collection of works on the Crusades written in 1969,

“The Growth of the Latin States, 1118-1144,” Robert L. Nicholson discusses the development of the Latin States in the Levant, beginning with the death of Baldwin I

(r. 493-512/1100-1118) through Zengi’s conquest of Edessa. Although the work focuses on the development of the Crusader States, Nicholson discusses the role Zengi played in the area. Nicholson believes that Zengi initially focused on the establishment of his own power against his Muslim rivals.26 Zengi, however, as Nicholson argues, established a

“status quo in respect to the Franks” which was “designed to give him a free hand in his endeavors to best his Moslem foes.”27 His consolidation of his lands, according to

Nicholson, created a “dam to the spreading of the Frankish tide and to cause the loss of

25Madden, A New Concise History, 49-52.

26Robert L. Nicholson, “The Growth of the Latin States, 1118-1144,” in A History of the Crusades: The First Hundred Years, ed. Kenneth M. Setton (Madison, WI: The University of Wisconsin Press, 1969), 429.

27Ibid.

12

Edessa.”28 Nicholson does a commendable job discussing Zengi in a larger context yet issues arise surrounding his interpretation of the sources and Zengi’s role in the larger

Islamic response to the Crusades as well as his motives in the Muslim world.

Nicholson refers to Zengi as “the leader of the Moslem world,” implying that he held more power than other major figures such as the sultan and the caliph.29 While the

Saljuq Sultanate and witnessed a relative decline in power during the period, Zengi did not lead a unified Muslim world at any point in his career.30 This title

Nicholson confers onto Zengi also neglects other important political figures of the day in this case sultan Sanjar.31 While Sanjar did not specifically work within Syria, Zengi still worked for and at the behest of Sanjar multiple times during his career. Working under

Sanjar, as opposed to on a level playing field, shows that Zengi was not the preeminent power in the Muslim world. Nicholson also believes that Zengi focused on his war against the Franks, moving against opposing Muslim forces when he deemed it necessary. Nicholson’s work, while showing a shift in the understanding of Zengi’s importance in the Crusading world, continues to focus on Zengi from a western perspective and his interactions with the west instead of a discussion regarding his development of power in his realm.

Another article in Setton’s A History of the Crusades attempts to focus more on specific events associated with Zengi’s career. H. A. R. Gibb’s chapter, “Zengi and the

28Ibid.

29Ibid., 430.

30For information on the Abbasids, see Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Abbasids,” 15-23.

31Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Sandjar,” 15-17.

13

Fall of Edessa,” discusses the role Zengi played in the history of , which Gibb argued represents “the point of balance” between the Muslims and the Crusaders.32 Gibb traced the changing of power in Aleppo from Tughtigin, to al-Bursuqi, and eventually

Zengi. Although the title of Gibb’s chapter implies a work that examines the role of

Zengi in the Counter-Crusade focusing on his accomplishments at Edessa, Gibb’s work is primarily a general history of Aleppo, not necessarily an overview into Zengi’s career.

Zengi’s accomplishments at Edessa comprise the final few pages while the initial portion of the work focuses on how different forces perceived the importance of Aleppo.33

Gibb, the translator of Ibn al-Qalanisi’s work, used a number of primary documents from both Muslim and Byzantine chroniclers, but neglects one important work; Ibn al-Athir’s chronicle does not receive any treatment by Gibb. While Ibn al-

Athir’s biases do pervade throughout his chronicle of the period, his coverage of Zengi deserves recognition and provides complimentary information to Ibn al-Qalanisi’s interpretation. Although his work lacks a key primary source, Gibb’s piece provides important information surrounding the career of Zengi that holds merit. Despite the information within the work, his article surrounding Zengi and Edessa provides little interpretation of Zengi’s career. Similar to Nicholson, Gibb’s work focuses on Zengi’s career as an interaction between the “East” and the “West” and does not necessarily delve into his career in an effective manner.

Although the earlier articles focused on Zengi’s from a Crusader perspective, scholars in the late 1970s began to discuss the intricacies of his career rather than the

32H. A. R. Gibb, “Zengi and the Fall of Edessa,” in A History of the Crusades: The First Hundred Years, ed. Kenneth M. Setton (Madison, WI: The University of Wisconsin Press, 1969), 449.

33Ibid., 449-450.

14 broad narrative. In his 1978 doctoral dissertation “The Reign of Zangi: 521-541/1127-

1146,” Coskun Alptekin provides “a biography of atabeg Zangi and the conditions prevailing during his reign.”34 Altpekin begins by describing the state of the Saljuq

Empire at the time of Zengi and the chaos surrounding Malikshah’s death.35 He discusses the importance that the death of Zengi’s father had on his upbringing, providing background information on sultan Malikshah and his relationship with Aqsunqur.

Structuring the remainder of his work thematically, Alptekin addresses the various interactions Zengi had with a number of political entities in the region. The largest of his chapters concerns the relationship between Zengi and the Saljuq sultans and Abbasid caliphs. Alptekin then turns to the interactions Zengi had with various other figures, such as the atabegs of Damascus, the Artuqids in the Jazira, and the Franks in the Levant.

Alptekin combines textual sources with a number of coins minted by Zengi, to provide a substantial and important biography of Zengi’s life.36

Although Alptekin provides an important survey of Zengi’s career, his work lacks any substantial argument. Alptekin works minor arguments into his various chapters, yet neglects to tie them to one overarching thesis. While discussing Zengi’s relationship with the Saljuqs and the Abbasids, Alptekin provides his strongest argument, when he claims that Zengi obeyed the Saljuq sultans “although he occasionally swerved during some hostility among the princes.”37 Alptekin, however, ceases to provide any further

34Coskun Alptekin, “The Reign of Zangi: 521-541/1127-1146,” (PhD diss., University of London, 1978), ii.

35Ibid., 31-33.

36Ibid., 24.

37Ibid., 76. 15 substantial arguments following his assessment of Zengi’s relationship with the Saljuqs.

His assessment takes Zengi’s desire to establish himself as an independent ruler in the

Saljuq Empire for granted. Zengi, throughout his career, displayed more of a manipulative mindset rather than a subservient one. Alptekin’s chapters on Zengi’s interactions with the Saljuqs represent the most complete and strongest chapters of his work as it delves into the specifics surrounding Zengi’s career. The others, most importantly his Byzantine-focused chapter, do not delve into specifics regarding the atabeg’s career or interactions. Despite the issues with his work, Alptekin’s attempts to discuss an important figure within the Muslim world whom scholars tended to ignore with the exception of his involvement in the taking of Edessa. His biographical work proved necessary for the period about which he wrote, as this account was missing from the Crusader historiography.

During the 1980s and 1990s, scholarly works paid little attention to Zengi, but, with the turn of the century, Zengi again came to the forefront as an important figure in the study of the Crusades. With this rediscovered interest in Zengi, scholars shifted to an examination of Zengi’s career. In “Abominable Acts:’ The Career of Zengi,” Carole

Hillenbrand attempts to look at Zengi in relation to his importance to the Islamic world.38

Hillenbrand traces Zengi’s career through his adoption in Mosul until his death in

541/1146, two years after the retaking of Edessa. Understanding that Zengi receives

“unusually harsh treatment from the chroniclers,” Hillenbrand attempts to show Zengi as an illustrious figure who succeeded in the political environment of the Saljuqs.

38Carole Hillenbrand, “Abominable Acts:’ The Career of Zengi,” in The Second Crusade: Scopes and Consequences, ed. Jonathan Phillips and Martin Hoch (Manchester, NY: Manchester University Press, 2001): 111.

16

Hillenbrand commends Zengi for his ability to succeed against a number of different players vying for power and the constant threat of the Saljuq sultan.39

Hillenbrand provides a glimpse into the career of Zengi and depicts him as a man who followed the examples of his predecessors in establishing their own independence in the Saljuq lands.40 Zengi, according to Hillenbrand, focused his exploits in Baghdad and the areas in Iraq purposefully to cement his position and that his excursions elsewhere acted as “forays or excursions.”41 Hillenbrand also claims that Zengi established his base in Mosul because of its location, as it provided easy access to the Jazira, Baghdad, and

Syria.42 Claiming, however, that Zengi specifically focused on these areas and not necessarily other areas, neglects other major accomplishments of his career. Hillenbrand does not discuss the relationships between Zengi, the sultans, and the caliphs.43 The present thesis seeks to fill the gaps by addressing Zengi’s interaction with these figures and how they affected the political arena of the Saljuq Empire. Hillenbrand provides an effective examination of Zengi’s career and the development of his power base alongside the various others political players.

Roughly a decade following Hillenbrand’s publication, new scholarship emerged attempting to fill the voids created by her work. In 2012, “Imad al-Din Zanki and His

Hostile Policy toward the Saljuqid sultanate and the Abbasid caliphate in and Iraq.

39Ibid.

40Ibid., 118.

41Ibid.

42Ibid.

43Ibid., 127.

17

Expanding His Frontiers 1127-1146,” by Taef el-Azhari, covered Zengi’s military career, arguing that “Zengi’s career” encompassed a “long and perplexing relationship with the

Saljuqid sultanate.”44 El-Azhari further asserted that Zengi followed “a realpolitik policy all through his career.”45 Although he uses a number of primary sources, el-Azhari did not examine the works of Ibn al-Athir and Ibn al-Qalanisi in a consistent fashion, specifically concerning Zengi’s jihad policy. El-Azhari believed that Zengi had a definitive jihad policy that he used as a tool to unify “Syria under his banner to fight the

Franks.”46 This is simply a blanket statement, however, and el-Azhari neglects to go any further into this point. While el-Azhari does discuss Zengi’s relationships with the caliph and sultan in a relatively effective manner, numerous issues are apparent throughout the work.

Structurally, el-Azhari’s work lacks a level of cohesion that would make his argument more effective. Numerous times, el-Azhari discusses a potential major point for his work in a one-sentence section that he then abandons with no evidence or substantiation.47 El-Azhari also neglected to use excerpts from the primary documents to prove the smaller arguments he makes in support of his overall thesis. While there are

44 Taef el-Azhari, “Imad al-Din Zanki and His Hostile Policy toward the Saljuqid Sultanate and the Abbasid caliphate in Iran and Iraq. Expanding His Frontiers 1127-1146,” American International Journal of Contemporary Research, 2 no. 12 (2012): 13.

45 Ibid.

46Ibid., 18.

47For example, el- Azhari writes: “For the next two years until the death of sultan Mahmud II in 525/1131 Zanki had harmonious relations with the Sultanate and the Caliphate, especially since he was expanding his zone of influence in 1129–1130 in al-Jazira against the Turkmen Artukids, against the Crusaders of Antioch at al-Atharib and Harem, and against the Saljuqs of Syria, capturing Hamah and attacking Hims.” From here, el-Azhari quickly turns to the death of Mahmud without going into detail regarding Zengi’s actions in this year and what constitutes “harmonious relations.” Ibid., 14.

18 few pieces of secondary literature on Zengi, el-Azhari ignored the works of Gibb and

Hillenbrand and uses only Alptekin’s dissertation, with that used only sparingly.48 El-

Azhari also noted that Zengi focused the bulk of his attention in the areas outside of Iraq, showing a complete break with Hillenbrand’s assessment. While Hillenbrand’s scholarship does not represent the seminal work on Zengi, as this has yet to be written, it is a crucial piece of scholarship that el-Azhari needed to include in his work. El-Azhari’s scholarship is interesting and important to the overall historiography on Zengi, but his presentation and structure make the work difficult to use in an effective fashion. This article represents the most recent scholarly work approaching Zengi’s career, and while his work has issues with structure and evidence, it represents a shift in focus onto the way that groups interacted with one another within the Saljuq political arena.

These authors represent the major works in English on the career of Zengi. All of them have different strengths and weaknesses that propel the field forward. There are still holes, however, in a discussion of how Zengi used the tools at his disposal to advance his own plans. While these works discuss the idea that Zengi desired autonomy from the

Saljuqs, they neglect to go into detail regarding the political structure of the period, the relationships he forged and how his call for jihad represented a complete deviation from the understanding of the concept. The medieval historiography on Zengi still holds value and there are other sources in that could propel a study of Zengi and the Saljuq political system forward. The medieval works in this chapter coupled with the modern historiography on Zengi, allow for further examination of Zengi’s career and his plans.

Beginning with an assessment of the Saljuq political system, these sources will then help

48Ibid., 21. El-Azhari dedicates roughly two sentences to Alptekin’s work. 19 in the establishment of how he interacted with the political figures of the period and the ways in which he used jihad as a tool used to build his own autonomy.

20

CHAPTER I: THE POLITICAL ARENA OF THE SALJUQS In order to understand Zengi’s importance to the larger Saljuq and Crusader historiography, it is necessary to establish a narrative regarding the coming of the Saljuqs into the Islamic world. Zengi operated within the Saljuq Empire, whose system of government provided the opportunities for Zengi to develop his own independence.

Tracing the origins of the Saljuq government and the way in which the Saljuqs structured their empire allows for a more complete understanding of Zengi’s rise and consolidation of power. The political arena within the Saljuq Empire provided numerous opportunities for advancement and the development of autonomy within the empire.

Originating as a band of Turkmen under Saljuq b. Duqaq the Saljuqs created a strong empire through the tenth and eleventh centuries.49 Through the reigns of sultans

Tughril Beg (r. 428-456/1037-1063), Alp Arslan (r. 456-465/1063-1072) and Malikshah

(r. 465-485/1072-1092), the power of the Saljuqs grew exponentially. 50 Despite the strength of the empire through the reigns of Alp Arslan and Malikshah, the untimely death of the latter sparked devastating infighting among the various Saljuq powers vying

49Ibn al-Athir, The Annals of the Saljuq Turks: Selections from al-Kāmil fīʼl-taʼrīkh of ‘Izz al-Din Ibn al-Athir, trans. D.S. Richards (London, RoutledgeCurzon, 2002), 31. For substantial information on the Ghaznavid tribe, see C. E. Bosworth, The Later ; Splendour and Decay: The Dynasty in Afghanistan and Northern India 1040-1186 (New York, NY: Press, 1977). The name Saljuq comes from “the name of an individual, not a people or a tribe.” A.C.S. Peacock, Early Seljuq History: A New Interpretation, (New York, NY: Routledge, 2010), 17; C.E. Bosworth, “The Political and Dynastic History of the Iranian World (A.D. 1000-1217)” in The Cambridge , ed. J.A. Boyle (London: Cambridge University Press, 1968), 17-18.

50Encyclopedia of Islam,2nd ed., s.v. “Toghril Beg,” 553; Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed. s.v., “Alp Arslan,” 420; Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Malikshah, 273-75. 21 for the Sultanate. The internal strife surrounding the succession to the Sultanate in the post-Malikshah period led to the decline of the role and power of the Sultanate. Atabegs - figures who held a governing position over a territory and received a son of the sultan

(prince) to raise, educate and watch over in exchange for this land - desired to establish their power in the territories provided to them by the sultans. The rise of these figures assisted in the splintering of the Saljuqs’ governing capability. Atabegs used the princes assigned to them as a method to further their own political aspirations, and the centralized

Saljuq power began to weaken. Disunity within the Saljuq political system allowed rulers with their own agendas, such as Zengi, the opportunity to develop and consolidate power in an attempt to establish their own dynasty within the Saljuq territories.

Until recently, publications on the Saljuqs came from only a handful of historians in the field. In spite of this, three historians have laid substantial groundwork with regard to establishing who the Saljuqs were and how they succeeded in rising to prominence. In

1969, Claude Cahen, in “The Turkish Invasion: The Selchukids,” acknowledged that, at the time of publication, there had been no “comprehensive scholarly history of the

Selchukids,” an issue that he himself set out to resolve. Through his work on the Saljuqs and their interactions with the other players in the Muslim and Christian world, Cahen argues that the Saljuq appearance in the Muslim world “inaugurated a profoundly new phase in history” that affected both the Muslim and the Christian world.51 Cahen attributes a large portion of the Saljuq’s success to the acceptance of Islam as their religion, which, as Cahen argues, became the “common political bond” necessary for the

51Claude Cahen, “The Turkish Invasion: The Selchukids,” in A History of the Crusades, ed. Kenneth Setton (Madison, WI: The University of Wisconsin Press, 1969), 135.

22 success of the Turks.52 The Turks had already invaded the Muslim world, but succeeded in establishing “the first great Turkish Moslem realm.”53

Cahen addresses the rise of Saljuq, the eponymous founder of the dynasty, the reigns of sultans Tughril Beg, Alp Arslan, and Malikshah, and then shifts to a broad discussion of Saljuq history following these figures.54 Cahen also notes that despite their adherence to Islamic practices, the sultans did not lose their Turkish heritage, as can be seen through their establishment of a familial confederacy.55 These Turkish elements both helped and hindered the Saljuq government. His work concludes with a discussion of the waning of Saljuq power, arguing that, despite the weakening of the Saljuq state, it still left behind “an important heritage” to the Islamic world.56 While not totally comprehensive in its approach, Cahen’s work provided a starting point for a number of subsequent works on the Saljuq Empire.

In “The Political and Dynastic History of the Iranian World,” C.E. Bosworth discusses the Saljuq arrival in Iran and their implementation of Iranian customs into their courts and administrative councils.57 Bosworth provides an extensive narrative covering the development of the Saljuq Empire from their time as “aliens” through the eve of the

52Ibid., 137.

53Ibid.

54Ibid., 167.

55Ibid., 157. Cahen notes that the Turks adhered to the “tribal idea of the preeminence of a family ruled by the eldest member,” instead of the “idea of a who would be succeeded by his sons.” Ibid.

56 Ibid., 175.

57 Bosworth, “The Political and Dynastic History,” 1.

23

Mongol conquests.58 Throughout his work, Bosworth shows how the Saljuqs adopted

Iranian culture throughout their court systems and how the Saljuq Turks incorporated

Persian elements into their system of administration and that the change from Persian to

Turkish rule was “not absolutely abrupt.”59 Bosworth also attempts to answer how the

Saljuqs became “reconciled to the new concept of royal power” centered on the concept of monarchical rule, even though the tribal tradition adhered to a concept of individual power passed down through familial succession.60 Bosworth specifically notes that this power plagued the Saljuqs and that the sultans never succeeded in resolving these problems.61 This struggle defined the Saljuq sultanate in the early periods and allows for an understanding of the reasons behind the various maneuvers that the early sultans made in order to solidify their power and authority. A complete narrative surrounding the

Saljuqs represented a missing piece to the study of the medieval Islamic world.

Bosworth’s work provided the necessary groundwork for other scholars to build.

While Bosworth provides the narrative surrounding the political rise of the

Saljuqs, A.K.S. Lambton’s article “Internal Structure of the Saljuq Empire” discusses the specific institutions of the Saljuq Empire that allowed for the expansion and strengthening of their system of rule. Lambton argues that the Saljuqs based their governmental structure on the Persian monarchical traditions of government, and

58 Ibid., 1-3.

59Ibid., 3.

60 Ibid., 2.

61 Ibid., 2-3.

24 succeeded in giving these “old institutions…a new meaning.”62 Lambton notes that the period in which the Saljuqs came to power witnessed “hardship, famine, pestilence, violence, ignorance and superstition.”63 Yet, as Lambton argues, the Saljuq presence in

Iran “was the organizing force that brought about the condition in which the arts flourished, and the talents of these men and many others burgeoned and thrived.”64

Lambton further asserts that the Saljuq governmental system incorporated a “new system of administration composed of a series of interconnected jurisdictions whose stability depended, not on a separation of the civil arm from the military, but on orthodoxy or

‘right religion’ and the personal loyalty of sultan to caliph and of subordinate officials to the sultan.”65

Lambton’s discussion of the administrative offices within the empire provides a more detailed description of how the Saljuqs initially succeeded and ultimately fell apart.

Lambton discusses the various political developments that surrounded the growing power of the amirs and atabegs showing how their positions grew in stature following the death of Malikshah. Lambton also provides an interesting look at the court of the Saljuq sultans as well as the development of the iqta` system, which she considered one of the most

62 A.K.S. Lambton, “The Internal Structure of the Saljuq Empire,” in The Cambridge History of Iran, ed. J.A. Boyle (London: Cambridge University Press, 1968), 203. In her article, “Concepts of Authority in Persia: Eleventh to Nineteenth Centuries A.D,” argues that the Persian tradition of politics in the eleventh and nineteenth centuries “were basically religious or ideological,” and were based off of Islamic religious doctrines. While this article covers a large amount of time, Lambton’s assessment of the Saljuq period deserves some consideration. Lambton, “Concepts of Authority in Persia: Eleventh to Nineteenth Centuries A.D,” in Iran 26, (1988): 95.

63Ibid., 203-4.

64 Ibid.

65Ibid., 207.

25 important aspects to Saljuq rule.66 Lambton argues that the iqta` system “did not itself involve a decentralization or even a realization of the authority of the central government” and “under a strong ruler it contributed to the strength and cohesion of the state, but under a weak ruler it led to political disintegration,” which plagued the Saljuq

Empire. 67 Lambton’s article provides a broad discussion of the political system that compliments the work of Bosworth and allows for a further understanding of the Saljuq government’s internal structure. These works of Cahen, Bosworth, and Lambton provide the basic narrative and break down of the internal Saljuq Empire, all of which help to explain the political arena they established throughout the eleventh century.

Within the last decade, an abundance of scholarly works on the Saljuqs have been published, building on the works of Cahen, Bosworth, and Lambton. In his work, Early

Seljuq History: A New Interpretation, A.C. S. Peacock has attempted to “revise the traditional image of the early Saljuqs” by dismissing the commonly held notions of the development of the Saljuq dynasty.68 Throughout his work, Peacock dismissed numerous arguments surrounding the Saljuqs, including the ideas “that the Saljuqs sought to be rulers in the Perso-Islamic tradition…the Saljuq sultans found their nomadic subjects an embarrassment; and that the Saljuqs were committed to and supported it vigorously.”69 His assessment, specifically the one concerning the sultans’ adherence to

66Bosworth defines an iqta` as “lands or fiefs” used to produce revenues that paid the soldiers of the Saljuq army. Bosworth, “The Political and Dynastic History,” 81.

67 Ibid., 239. Lambton continues her discussion of the iqta` system by showing how it helped in the disintegration of the Saljuq Empire.

68Peacock, Early Seljuq History, 3-5.

69Ibid., 4.

26 religious practices, neglects the necessity for legitimacy as a reason for their devotion to religious practices. Peacock also calls into question a number of historians including

Bosworth who he believed displayed a number of biases in his article because of his previous publications on the Ghaznavids.70 While Peacock is correct in his understanding of Bosworth’s focus, his critique discredits the importance of Bosworth’s work.71

Peacock’s work represents one of the most recent publications on the Saljuqs and displays the new age of thinking that comes with the new generation of scholarship.

These works, while important to the overall Saljuq historiography, neglect figures such as

Zengi who epitomize the dysfunctionality of the Saljuq Empire. Through a further examination of the sources with a focus on the atabegs and amirs, a more complete history of the Saljuq Empire can be constructed.

As mentioned previously, the name “Saljuq” comes from a member of a tribe, not the tribe itself. The son of Duqaq and a member of the Qiniq tribe of the Oghuz, Saljuq b.

Duqaq worked with the Ghaznavid tribe and had been commissioned to help fight against other tribes in the area.72 Saljuq’s actions helped to establish the Saljuq tribe in

Transoxiana.73 In the early years of their development, Saljuq and his fellow tribesmen converted to Islam and began to raid the remaining Turkish forces in the area.74 Richard

70The Saljuqs were responsible for the defeat of the Ghaznavids, which may form the basis for Peacock’s negative assessment of Bosworth’s work.

71Ibid., 13.

72 Ibid, 17. Cahen, “The Turkish Invasions,” 140. Specifically, the Samanids hired Saljuq to suppress the Kara-Khanids. Richard N. Frye and Aydin M. Sayili, “Turks in the Middle East before the Saljuqs,” Journal of the American Oriental Society 63, no. 3 (July-September 1943): 195.

73Cahen, “The Turkish Invasions,” 140.

74Bosworth, “The Political and Dynastic History,” 17. Peacock argues that and the Saljuq religiosity differed “according to the political circumstances.” Peacock, Early Saljuq History, 5. 27

N. Frye and Aydin M. Sayili note that the Saljuq Turks established themselves within the areas surrounding Khurasan and (located in modern day Iran and Uzbekistan respectively) and committed their livelihoods in towns and villages, developing large populations in these areas.75 Cahen notes that the cities of Khurasan had grown tired of the “oppressive” rule and understood that the Ghaznavid promises of security had fallen apart. In order to remove themselves from the harsh rule of the Ghaznavids, these cities decided to recognize the Saljuq presence in the area, assisting in their claims to power.76

The two grandsons of Saljuq, Tughril Beg and Chaghri Beg, took over the Saljuq forces and further established the Saljuq presence in the area.77

Fighting plagued the early years of the Saljuq dynasty, yet their military prowess led to their initial success against other tribes in the area.78 In 429/1038, Tughril Beg took

75Frye and Sayili, “Turks in the Middle East,” 195. In a later article, Bosworth calls Frye and Sayili’s arguments into question, noting that the Turks in the area functioned as soldiers and did not have the same firmly established lands that they believed they had. C.E. Bosworth, “Barbarian Incursions: The Coming of the Turks into the Islamic World,” in Islamic Civilisation, 950-1150: A Colloquium Published Under the Auspices of the Near Eastern History Group, Oxford, the Center, University of Pennsylvania, ed. D. S. Richards (London: Cassirer Press, 1973), 2-3.

76Cahen, “The Turkish Invasion,” 141.

77 Sadr al-Din al-Husayni, The History of the Seljuq State: A Translation with commentary of the Akhbar al-dawla al-saluqiyya, ed. Clifford Edmund Bosworth (London: Routledge, 2011), 11. These two leaders come from the second generation of Saljuq himself. The first generation consisted of Saljuq’s sons Musa, , and Arslan Isra’il. Tughril Beg and Chaghri Beg were the sons of Mikail. Bosworth, “The Political and Dynastic History,” 18; Peacock, Early Seljuq History, 63. Joseph Fletcher notes that the Saljuq’s decision to fight on behalf of Tughril Beg gave him power relative to a king who ruled “over a multi-tribal nomadic people, combined with a highly personal command over that people’s collective military forces.” This gave Tughril Beg the necessary support base needed to solidify his own agenda in the Muslim world. Joseph Fletcher, “Turco-Mongolian Monarchic Tradition in the ,” Harvard Ukrainian Studies 3, no.1 (1979-1980): 236.

78Peacock, Early Saljuq History, 4-5. Joseph Fletcher discusses the importance of the steppe army organization in “Turco-Mongolian Monarchic Tradition in the Ottoman Empire.” Fletcher argues that the steppe lifestyle gave rise to the establishment of a “grand ” figure as a leader of tribal groups due to the structure of “steppe life.” Fletcher, “Turco-Mongolian Monarchic Tradition,” 237. Bosworth notes that the Saljuq army “built round a slave nucleus,” and built upon the Buyid concept of an army mixed with Arab soldiers as well as conscripted men, which the Saljuq sultans evolved in order for success. Bosworth, 28 control of , and took the title of “al-Malik al-Mu’azzam” (“The Exalted

Ruler”).79 In 431/1040, Tughril Beg and Chaghri Beg defeated the Ghaznavid sultan

Masʽud at Dandanqan which resulted in the decline of Ghaznavid power and legitimized

Saljuq rule in Iraq.80 This victory allowed the Sajuqs to become the major power in the

Muslim lands. 81 This defeat of the Ghaznavid tribe also allowed for the establishment of diplomatic relations between Tughril Beg and the Abbasid caliph, al-Qa’im, which represented an important relationship that helped to further Tughril Beg’s claims to legitimacy.82

The Abbasid caliphate, during the post-Fourth Fitna period in the third/ninth century, witnessed a steady decline stemming from financial burdens and corrupted rulers.83 By the fourth/tenth century, the Buyids had established themselves as the political and military rulers in the area, after the brothers Ahmad, ‘Ali and al-Hasan

“Recruitment, Muster, and Review in Medieval Islamic Armies,” in War, Technology, and Society in the Middle East, ed. V. J. Parry and M. E. Yapp (London: Oxford University Press, 1975): 60; Bosworth, “Military Organisation Under the Buyids of Persia and Iraq,” Oriens 18/19 (1967): 145.

79Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Tughril Beg,” 553. It was from this point that Tughril Beg adopted the title of “al-Sultan al-Mu’azzam” which, as Bosworth notes, “appears on his coins” and established himself as the first Saljuq sultan. Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Saldjukids,” 939.

80Cahen, “The Turkish Invasion,” 142.

81In 433/1041, Tughril Beg entered into a conflict with the Yabghu tribe, resulting in the expulsion of the tribe and its leader, Malik, from the area which helped to and solidify their position on the border. Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Saldjukids,” 938. Bosworth, “The Political and Dynastic History,” 18.

82Al-Husayni, The History of the Seljuq State, 19; Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Tughril Beg,” 553; Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “al-Ka’im Bi-Amr Allah,” 457-58.

83 Eric Hanne, Putting the Caliph in His Place: Power, Authority, and the Late Abbasid Caliphate (Madison, NJ: Fairleigh Dickinson University Press, 2007): 21. Hanne disputes the notion that the caliph had little political power during the fifth-sixth/eleventh-twelfth centuries and argues that “the Abbasid caliphs…although weak in comparison to other military entities, established themselves as integral players in the cultural, political and military events of the day.” Ibid. On the Fitnas, Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Fitna,” 930-31.

29 received honorific titles from the caliph.84 Instead of completely removing the Caliphate from Baghdad, the Buyids decided to “legalize his authority over the Sunnis in his states and to strengthen his diplomatic relations with the world,” effectively keeping the

Abbasids from returning elsewhere.85 In spite of their power, however, they understood the importance of the keeping the Caliphate intact for “symbolic” purposes. This did, however, maintain the Abbasid impotence militarily and administratively. Because the caliph still held religious authority, an alliance with him only benefited the establishment of a defined Saljuq entity, which sheds light onto the reasoning behind Tughril Beg’s agreement to help the caliph against his enemies.86

The relationship between the Saljuqs and the Abbasids assisted both parties. In the years following the defeat of the Ghaznavids, Abu ‘l-Harith Arslan al-Basasiri, a commander of Turkish troops, slighted the caliph al-Qa’im by not attending a ceremony with officials from the Caliphate.87 Al-Basasiri’s power had grown quickly and he had taken a number of the towns surrounding Baghdad. Al-Qa’im is said to have a number of

“fears” regarding al-Basasiri, which were realized upon his receipt of a message that al-

Basasiri intended to attack the city and take the caliph hostage.88 Al-Qa’im appealed to

Tughril Beg for assistance in the matter. Tughril Beg agreed to help al-Qa’im and set out for Baghdad. Upon learning of Tughril’s approach, al-Basarisi fled “across the desert

84Ibid., 57; Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Buwayhids,” 1350.

85Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Buwayhids,” 1350.

86Lambton supports this concept noting that during the Saljuq period, the caliph still held the authority in the region despite the power residing with the sultan. Lambton, “Concepts of Authority in Persia,” 97.

87Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd, s.v. “Al-Basasiri,” 1073-75.

88Hanne, Putting the Caliph, 91-92.

30 wastes.”89 Once established in Baghdad, Tughril Beg captured al-Malik al-Rahim, a leading Buyid, imprisoning him in Tabarak until his death.90 Al-Malik al-Rahim’s death marked the definitive end of the Buyid presence in the region and the Caliphate began to recover some of the power and prestige that it had lost while the Buyids were in power.91

Despite the initial growth in the Abbasid’s freedom of power in the post-Buyid period, the Abbasids had not yet recovered fully, as they did not succeed in re-establishing any true military power in the area. The weakened Caliphate allowed Tughril Beg more opportunities to develop his own military strength and earn the appreciation of the caliph.

Following the imprisonment of al-Malik al-Rahim, Tughril Beg pursued al-

Basarisi, who had fled in the years prior to al-Malik al-Rahim’s capture. Political developments in his dominions, however, forced Tughril Beg to direct his attention elsewhere as his half-brother, Ibrahim b. Yinal, launched a surprise attack within Tughril

Beg’s lands, forcing him to abandon his pursuit of al-Basarisi. Even though Tughril Beg had agreed to help the caliph in his personal matters, his abandonment of his pursuit of al-Basarisi displays Tughril Beg’s true desires. Although the sultan understood the importance of enacting a political relationship with the caliph, he still considered his own personal holdings more important. When word that Tughril Beg abandoned the caliph reached al-Basarisi, he joined with the ‘Uqaylid amir Quraysh b. Badran, returned to

Baghdad, and attacked the city.92 After defeating the people of Baghdad, Quraysh

89Al -Husayni, The History of the Seljuq State, 20.

90Ibid.

91Hanne, Putting the Caliph in His Place, 88.

92For coverage of the Uqaylids, see Encyclopedia of Islam,, 2nd ed., s.v. “Ukaylids,” 786-87.

31 commanded the caliph to “Come forth, O noble one, don’t bring about your own death, you have a guarantee of security!”93 After the caliph acquiesced, al-Basasiri captured al-

Qa’im and held him hostage. After settling his affairs with Ibrahim, Tughril Beg returned to Baghdad and negotiated with al-Basarisi to reinstate al-Qa’im to the Caliphate. Al-

Basarisi, recognizing that he had lost the support of the people because of his actions towards the caliph and that Tughril had returned to Baghdad, fled to his stronghold in

Wasit. Tughril Beg captured the fleeing amir and beheaded him. After a year away from the throne, al-Qa’im regained his position as caliph.94 Following these events, in

449/1058, Tughril Beg entered the city of Baghdad and al-Qa’im “bestowed on him alkab or honorific titles and robes of honour,” and proclaimed him al-Sultan al-Mu’azzam. 95

Even though Tughril Beg had already established himself as malik, or “king,” years prior to al-Qa’im’s confirmation of the title onto him, the caliph’s recognition of Tughril Beg completed his rise to prominence within the political arena. Tughril Beg had successfully demonstrated his power and loyalty to the caliph and earned his support, which in turn gave him a stronger backing within the Islamic community.96

Cahen acknowledges that the conferment of the title of sultan gave Tughril Beg an increased level of prestige as he now held temporal power, given to him by the caliph.97 R.E. Darley-Doran also notes that this event provided Tughril Beg with “an

93Al-Husayni, History of the Saljuq State, 20.

94Ibid., 20-21; Hanne, Putting the Caliph, 94-5.

95 Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Saldjukids,” 939.

96Makdisi, “The Sunni Revival,” in Islamic Civilisation, 950-1150: A Colloquium Published Under the Auspices of the Near Eastern History Group, Oxford, the Near East Center, University of Pennsylvania, ed. D. S. Richards (London: Cassirer Press, 1973), 166.

97Cahen, “The Turkish Invasion,” 146. 32 authority quite different in nature from the limited authority which he had enjoyed under

Turkish tribal custom.”98 Mottahedeh acknowledges that, in this period, oaths between the caliph and his “amirs” worked as a “sign that one claimed military authority,” instead of being labeled as simply a “deputized’ ruler.”99 The earlier adoption of “sultan” did not necessarily give Tughril Beg the immediate support of the people. The power of this title came from the caliph’s recognition of the Saljuq power, and it was through confirmation by the caliph that the Saljuqs received legitimation.100 Prior to his receiving the title of sultan in 447/1055, the caliph had ordered the inclusion of Tughril Beg’s name in the khutbah which added a new level of prestige alongside the secular role of the Sultanate as his name became part of the Friday prayers, a staple of the Islamic faith.101 The recitation of Tughril Beg’s name gave the Saljuq sultanate a level of authority alongside the

Caliphate.102 Tughril Beg’s interactions with the Caliphate show the nature of legitimizing one’s rule and the necessary actions needed in order to secure legitimacy within the political arena.

The confirmation of the title of sultan by the caliph and the inclusion of his name in the khutbah gave Tughril Beg a new level of authority and respect within the Muslim

98Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Saldjukids,” 939. R.E. Darley-Doran is the author of the entry on the Saljuqs.

99Mottahedeh, Loyalty and Leadership, 51.

100Carla Klausner, The Vizierate: A Study of Civil Administration 1055-1194 (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press: 1973), 28; Cahen, “The Turkish Invasion,” 141.

101Ibn al-Athir, Annals of the Saljuq Turks, 100. Marshall Hodgson, The Venture of Islam: Conscience and History in a World Civilization (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2009), 209; Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Khuṭba,” 75.

102 Sidiqi, Caliphate and Kingship, 574-106.

33 world and established him as the leader of the Saljuqs. Yet Tughril Beg’s motives for supporting the caliph in this regard, as mentioned, depict the sultan’s larger agenda.

George Makdisi, in “The Sunni Revival,” argues that the ulama represented an extremely large and effective support base that figures of power appealed to through their support of religion. Makdisi states that “the ulama’s first loyalty was to God and His Prophet; then to the caliph whose function it was to guard and maintain the Prophet’s religion.”103 If the figure in question, in this instance Tughril Beg, convinced the people of his religious support, “he had their loyalty.”104 This dismisses the notion that Tughril Beg supported the caliph based on their religious beliefs. Instead, it shows that Tughril Beg understood the importance and role of the ulama and the need to gain their support for legitimation.

Many recent works have addressed the importance Tughril Beg’s assistance of the caliph, building off of Makdisi’s assessment. The “Great Saljuq Myth” is a term coined by Omid Safi in his work The Politics of Knowledge in Premodern Islam used to label

Tughril Beg’s actions, which further legitimized the Saljuq presence in Iraq.105 Safi’s claims regarding the rise and rule of the early Saljuqs dismisses their role as religious defenders. Safi provides a negative interpretation of the events claiming that the Saljuq response to the caliph was not necessarily for the defense of Islam but rather to promote

Saljuq political aspirations, one of which involved the appeasement of the caliph on a political, not religious, basis.106 Opposing Safi, Deborah Tor has argued that the sultans

103Makdisi, “The Sunni Revival,” 166.

104Ibid.

105Omid Safi, The Politics of Knowledge in Premodern Islam: Negotiating Ideology and Religious Inquiry, (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2006), 3.

106Ibid., 35-42. 34 before Sanjar demonstrated a “significant degree of personal religiosity.”107 Tor believes that Tughril Beg acted as one of the more religious of the Saljuq sultans because of his adherence to Islamic holy practices as well as the incorporation of holy men into his court.108 This assessment, however, takes for granted Tughril Beg’s ambitions for power.

Whether or not Tughril Beg truly adhered to the beliefs of Islam, he recognized the importance of the caliph’s approval in a practical sense. The sultan demonstrated a strong understanding of the politics of the period as well as the importance of approval by the

Caliphate.

Although many scholars believe in the importance of religion to Tughril Beg, it is simple to dismiss the idea that Tughril Beg fought for the caliph in an attempt to promote

Sunni Islam over the Shi’ite Buyid and Fatamid groups. His purpose for assisting the caliph was to gain the caliph’s favor and approval evident from Tughril Beg’s actions following the re-establishment of al-Qa’im. Cahen acknowledges that Tughril and

Chaghri Beg both understood the importance of caliphal recognition for their positions of power as the only true way to legitimize their claims to power and to set them apart from

107 Deborah Tor, “‘Sovereign and Pious’: Religious life of the Great Saljuq Sultans,” in The Seljuks: Politics, Society and Culture, ed. Christian Lange and Songül Mecit (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2011): 41.

108Ibid., 42, 50. Lambton believes a similar idea regarding the religious support of the Saljuqs. Lambton argues that the Saljuqs allowed for the “preservation of the religious life of the community” articulating the idea that the Saljuq sultans understood the importance of religious legitimation. Lambton, “The Internal Structure,” 207. Mottahedeh believes something different, however, specifically in regards to the religiosity of Tughril Beg. Tughril Beg, according to Mottahedeh, did not truly adhere to the oaths he engaged in with the caliph. These oaths not only represented an agreement with the Caliphate, but more importantly, a relationship with God himself. If Mottahedeh’s depiction of Tughril Beg’s lackadaisical approach to his oaths holds true, it dismisses the idea that he held strong religious beliefs, despite his support of Islamic holy practices. Mottahedeh, Loyalty and Leadership, 57.

35 the other tribes in the area.109 Tughril Beg’s marriage to the caliph’s daughter supports

Cahen’s claims. This marriage proposal further articulates the need of the “approval of the Caliphate” in order to legitimize the Saljuq sultanate, diminishing the pseudo- religious overtones of Tughril Beg’s actions.110 Bosworth notes the importance of religious legitimacy stating that, within the Persian tradition of government that the

Saljuqs adhered to, “kingly authority was identified with divine authority.”111 Lambton also notes that the sultans tried to receive religious legitimacy in an attempt to “legalize their rule, and partly to acquire prestige by adopting the role of the defenders of orthodox

Islam.”112 This marriage proposal represents Tughril Beg’s major push for further religious legitimacy, as it would prove necessary to give him the authority he desired for his line of successors.

In his article “The Marriage of Tughril Beg,” George Makdisi discusses the dramatic events surrounding the marriage between the sultan and the caliph’s daughter.

Makdisi dismisses the notion that this marriage stemmed from Tughril’s “desire to distinguish himself as no other amir had done before him.”113 Makdisi instead argues that

Tughril Beg truly desired to enhance “the possibility of a Saljuq descendent assuming the

109 Cahen, “The Turkish Invasion,” 141.

110Hanne, Putting the Caliph in His Place, 207.

111Bosworth, “The Political and Dynastic History,” 1. Lambton also notes the importance of adherence to shariʽa law, stating that “the state did not demand, or receive, the loyalty of the common man. Loyalty…was accorded not to the state but to Islam or the shariʽa. So long as the sultan represented the shariʽa he commanded, in some measure, the loyalty of the people, but as soon as he ceased to represent the shariʽa they too ceased to feel any loyalty towards him.” This affirms Tughril Beg’s understanding of the importance of religious legitimacy. Lambton, “Internal Structure,” 205.

112Lambton, “Internal Structure,” 206.

113George Makdisi, “The Marriage of Tughril Beg,” International Journal of Middle East Studies 1, no.3 (July, 1970): 261.

36

Abbasid caliphate” in order to have both control of the Sultanate and the Caliphate.114

While this was a factor in the marriage proposal, it is not accurate to disregard the need for legitimization through a marriage alliance. At this point in his career, Tughril Beg desired recognition of his power. A marriage between the Abbasids and the Saljuqs provided Tughril Beg the opportunity to advance his own claims. As Tughril Beg’s was already seventy at this time, this marriage represents an attempt to consolidate power, as the production of an heir proved difficult at his advanced age. Even if Tughril Beg planned on establishing a Saljuq line to the Caliphate, his plans never came to fruition.

Regardless of the various reasons behind the marriage, Tughril Beg, at the age of seventy, married the daughter of al-Qa’im in February 455/1063. Seven months after his marriage, after contracting an illness traveling, Tughril Beg died without producing an heir.115

Tughril Beg’s reign as sultan gave him the opportunities to develop the power of the

Sultanate in a manner that placed him on a similar power level as the Caliphate.

Because of a childless marriage, issues arose surrounding the successor to Tughril

Beg. Succession to the Sultanate plagued the Saljuqs throughout their reign, as the infighting between candidates caused the structure of the political system to divide.

“Succession by struggle,” according to Joseph Fletcher, “was hard on the family life of the royal clan” even if it was successful in reintegrating the various peoples back into the empire.116 Even when a new ruler took the throne and people of the empire accepted his rule, the ruler still held a “personal” relationship with them, as “the office…had no

114 Ibid.

115Hanne, Putting the Caliph, 142.

116Ibid., 239.

37 effective existence.”117 While the notion of family rule existed before the Saljuqs came to power, the post-Tughril Beg era saw these succession issues come into play. Various family members fought over the Sultanate, despite Tughril Beg’s naming of a successor:

Sulayman, the son of Chaghri Beg. 118 As Fletcher notes, the power of the newly appointed Sultanate began to weaken as these figure’s personal relationships with those that put them in power caused a rift in respect between the two.

Despite Tughril Beg’s choosing of Sulayman as his successor, the amirs did not approve of this successor. Instead, they pronounced the khutba in the name of Adud al-

Dawla Alp Arslan who, instead of Sulayman, became the next Saljuq sultan in

455/1063.119 In spite of the rivalries that developed surrounding Tughril Beg’s succession, the period in which Alp Arlsan reigned, according to Bosworth, represents

“the great apogee” of Saljuq domination, as the sultan succeeded in uniting Saljuq lands under one ruler.120 Peacock argues that the period before the death of Alp Arslan

“witnessed the Saljuqs transformation from obscure tribesmen to sultans, rulers of an empire that inherited the synthesis of Islamic and Iranian ideals of government and

117Ibid., 241.

118Ibn al-Athir, Annals of the Saljuq Turks, 145.

119Ibid. Bosworth, “The Political and Dynastic History,” 59. Fletcher defines this type of succession as “tanistry” which he defines as “the principle of succession that the most talented male member of the royal clan should inherit the throne.” Fletcher, “Turco-Mongolian Monarchic Tradition,” 239.

120Bosworth, “The Political and Dynastic History,” 55, 58.

38 culture.”121 Alp Arslan united the empire and introduced a period of strength for the

Saljuqs.122

The establishment of a clear Saljuq presence in Minor took place during Alp

Arslan’s reign. This presence, however, also disrupted Byzantine-Muslim relations and ultimately led to the Byzantine Emperor Alexius I’s attempts at asking for assistance from Pope Urban II to combat the Turks. In 463/1071, the Byzantine Emperor Romanus attempted to invade , in order to reconquer the area. Alp Arslan, upon hearing this news, assembled 15,000 men at Manzikert and defeated a Byzantine army that vastly outnumbered them and also captured the Emperor.123 According to Cahen, Alp Arslan did not embark on this battle in order to destroy the Byzantine presence in the area. Cahen argues that Alp Arslan desired “a guarantee of neutrality or alliance in his enterprise of unifying the Muslim world” and, according to Runciman, to protect his lands in the west.124 In spite of Alp Arslan’s motives, the weakened the

Byzantine army. This defeat left the Byzantine lands open to invasion and allowed the

121 Ibid., 3.

122Ibid., 56. Cahen notes that Alp Arslan united all of the Saljuq’s domains except Kerman under his rule. Cahen, “The Turkish Invasion,” 147. Bosworth discusses five main points of policy associated with Alp Arslan’s reign. The first is his employment of the Turkmen in the campaigns against the Christian kingdoms in Asia Minor. The second revolved around the demonstration of the power of th e Sultanate. Third, Alp Arslan’s administration allowed the local rulers of Iraq, Fars, Azarbaijan, and the Caspian province to keep their titles. The fourth policy surrounded the event in which Alp Arlsan appointed Malikshah as his heir early in his reign. The final policy with equal importance to the other policies was the establishment of “good relations” with the Abbasid caliphs. Ibid, 57.

123 Ibn al-Athir, Annals of the Saljuq Turks, 170-71. In regards to the religious impact on this battle, Ibn al-Athir clearly states that Alp Arslan relied on divine intervention in order to succeed in this battle. After the emperor denied Alp Arslan a truce, Abu Nasr Muhammad ibn Abd al-Malik al-Bukhari al- Hanafi, told Alp Arslan: “you are fighting for a religion which God promised to support and to make it prevail over all other religions. I trust that God will have put this victory down to your name. Confront them on Friday in the afternoon, at the hour when the preachers will be in the pulpits. They will be praying for victory for the warriors of the Jihad- and prayer is liked to a favourable response.” Ibid., 171.

124Cahen, “The Turkish Invasions,” 149; Runciman, The First Crusade, 53.

39

Turks to stay in areas they conquered.125 These invasions, and defeats, prompted Alexius

I to appeal to the Western for assistance, ultimately leading to the launching of the First Crusade.126

The Battle of Manzikert proved to be one of the most influential moments during

Alp Arslan’s reign. It also, however, stood out as one of his final major victories. In

465/1072, a year after Manzikert, Alp Arlsan was dead, killed because of his own arrogance.127 Early in his reign, Alp Arlsan named his son Malikshah as his heir and upon his death, Malikshah assumed the throne and continued to build on the success of his predecessor.128 Alp Arslan’s reign was instrumental to the further establishment of Saljuq political power, yet during his rule, the power of the Sultanate began to wane. A subtle shift in power occurred as some control of the Sultanate devolved onto other prominent figures within the Saljuq political system.

The institution of the Sultanate was transformed throughout the reigns of Tughril

Beg, Alp Arslan and his successor Malikshah. Originally known as the “leaders of the people,” the sultan’s duty first and foremost was to rule the empire and his authority

125Cahen, “The Turksih Invasion,” 149.

126Madden, A New Concise History, 5. Madden notes that the Emperor did not make this decision lightly, as the Western and Eastern churches held fundamental differences, with the Eastern Christians viewing the Western as “misguided” specifically for their adherence to the Papacy. Ibid.

127Ibid., 176. As he attempted to construct a bridge in order to advance into Transoxiana, Alp Arslan’s forces brought a leader of a nearby fort to him. This leader, Yusuf al-Khwarizmi, after Alp Arslan’s men brought him before the sultan, called him a “coward” infuriating Alp Arslan. The sultan came down from his throne and fired an arrow at Yusuf, yet missed. Yusuf took this opportunity to rush the throne causing Alp Arslan to defend himself. On his way down from his throne, Alp Arslan fell “on his face” allowing Yusuf the opportunity to stab the sultan. On 10 Rabi 465/24 November 1072, Alp Arslan died.

128Ibn al-Athir, Annals of the Saljuq Turks, 157-58. Ibn al-Athir notes the date of this event as 458/1065-66.

40

“enabled the classes to fulfill their different functions.”129 The Saljuq sultans “were men of action and men of affairs.”130 The sultan also held the highest military position, as it was his responsibility to “defend his people and country in war.”131 It was also during

Malikshah’s reign and the subsequent reigns that the Saljuqs witnessed a shift in power as they began to be included in the same power structure as the caliph himself. Lambton notes that the power that had once been in the hands of the Caliphate had waned. The caliph was only able to exercise authority as a religious figurehead, while the true military strength lied in the hands of the Sultanate.132 The combination of power and authority the Saljuqs achieved gave them full legitimation within the Muslim world. As the years progressed and the lands of the Saljuqs grew, the power of the Sultanate waned.

This resulted in the weakening of the power and authority the Saljuqs had recently acquired and the diffusion of this power to different political offices, such as the and atabegs.

Regardless of the strength of the Sultanate during the reign of Alp Arslan, the

Saljuqs suffered from a number of weaknesses. The concept of a family rule, evident through the succession of Tughril Beg by his nephew and Alp Arslan by his son, proved to be devastating to the Saljuqs, as it caused the development of factions of support within the empire.133 The Saljuqs adhered to the concept of familial rule, where the eldest

129Lambton, “Internal Structure,” 210, 218. The sultan held the responsibility to hold the secular mazalim court, over which he presided unless he regulated it to another person. Ibid., 226.

130Ibid., 204.

131Ibid. 226.

132Lambton, “Concepts of Authority,” 97. Cahen confirms this idea, noting that “power…was in the hands of the sultan.” Cahen, “The Turkish Invasion,” 155.

133Ibid. 41 member of the family ruled, even if that member lacked support.134 The passing of the

Sultanate to unsupported family members ultimately weakened the position and caused revolts in order to support a candidate that was worthy of the Sultanate. One of these revolts resulted in the establishment of the Rum Saljuqs, a group led by Kutalmish b.

Arslan Isra’il, who claimed that he deserved the throne based on his lineage.135 While this group did not truly affect the Saljuqs until the middle of the sixth/twelfth century, their rise to power demonstrates the difficulties that the Saljuqs needed to face. The number of contenders for Sultanate caused fragmentation within the various support groups, harming the power of the Sultanate

The Saljuq sultan’s reliance on a group of officials to govern their provinces represents a key factor that assisted in the decline of Saljuq power. The Saljuq Empire, according to Lambton, was at best “a loose confederation of semi-independent kingdoms,” where “the sultan exercised nominal authority.”136 This form of indirect rule and reliance on a series of governors to control the furthest reaches of the empire by the sultan allowed for the opportunity for “usurpation” by various political entities vying for power.137 Because of this decentralized structure of government, the sultan required an

134Cahen, “The Turkish Invasion,” 157.

135Songül Mecit, “Kingship and Ideology under the Rum Seljuqs,” in The Seljuks: Politics, Society, and Culture ed. Christian Lange and Songul Mecit (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2011): 65. Mecit argues that the Rum Saljuq’s ideology of an “autocratic monarch,” stemmed from the accomplishments of Izz al-Din Killij Arslan II (d. 587/1192) and his grandsons Izz al-Din Kay Kawus I (d. 616/1220) and ‘Alaʼ al-Din Qudbah I (d. 634/1237). Mecit believes that this ideology formed following the disintegration of the Saljuq Empire, “when the new dynasty had been consolidated as an independent dynasty in .” Ibid., 63.

136Ibid.

137 Klausner, The Seljuk Vizierate, 13.

42 extensive body of government officials loyal to the sultan himself to govern the provinces for him. Giving this power to members of the political system resulted in a power vacuum, which ultimately weakened the power of the Sultanate. As the Saljuqs grew in strength under the reign of Alp Arslan, other political offices, such as the atabeg, began to strengthen leading to the decline of centralized power.

The office of the developed in power and importance during the Saljuq period.138 Through the reigns of Alp Arlsan and his successor Malikhshah, the role of the vizier expanded to become the “most important civil official in the state.”139 Among other roles, the vizier was responsible for the finance, military, and judicial aspects of the

Empire.140 Carla Klausner’s The Seljuk Vezirate: A Study of Civil Administration 1055-

1194, discusses the development of Saljuq political ideology through the office of the vizier. This office shows, according to Klausner, “an illustration of the dysfunctioning of the system of civil administration.”141 Klausner argues that the political system failed because of the Saljuq’s inability to establish a strong civil administration of government, yet this period “marked an important stage in the post-Abbasid development of a new institutional framework and supporting political theory which corresponded more exactly to government in the eastern Muslim world as it evolved historically.” 142 This

138 Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Wazir,” 185.

139Klausner, The Seljuk Vizierate, 16.

140Ibid., 39-49.

141 Klausner, The Seljuk Vezirate, 7. Klausner discusses, in detail, the various recruitment practices in searching for a vizier, the education and training of the official, as well as potential risks facing the office of the vizier.

142Ibid., 7, 77.

43 decentralized government appealed to the Saljuqs and their use of provincial governments as a method of governance for their vast empire.

Klausner, specifically, covers the development of the Saljuq vizierate in the time of Nizam al-Mulk (d. 1092) one of the most influential viziers in Saljuq history, who succeeded in “systematizing the offices and duties of the bureaucracy as well as promoting the madrasa system of education.”143 Nizam al-Mulk also ushered in a period of change in terms of the importance of the military, as the military aspects of the government dwindled in importance compared to the government development.144

Klausner’s work builds off Lambton’s research and addresses a position within the Saljuq government that grew during Nizam al-Mulk’s tenure in the position.145 After the death of Alp Arslan, Malikshah retained Nizam al-Mulk as his vizier. Nizam al-Mulk had already begun to establish his own power alongside the sultan and his time as

Malikshah’s vizier allowed him to cultivate his power even further, as the sultan gave

Nizam al-Mulk the authority to govern the Empire while he focused on the empire’s expansion. Bosworth notes the success of Malikshah was “by no means a personal one: indeed, the contribution of vizier Nizam al-Mulk was even greater than that of his master.”146 The vizierate under Nizam al-Mulk adopted substantial governmental power

143Ibid., 15.

144Ibid., 89.

145It is of interest to note that Kalusner holds the works of Lambton in high regarding stating that her work stems from the ideas that Lambton presented in her works, published and unpublished. Ibid., iv.

146Bosworth, “The Political and Dynastic History,” 68. Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Nizam al-Mulk,” 69-72.

44 that shows the transition of power from the Sultanate to other members of his political structure.

As mentioned earlier, Malikshah succeeded his father Alp Arslan as sultan. The rise of Malikshah, however, did not go smoothly, as Qavurt Beg, the brother of Alp

Arslan and uncle of Malikshah, challenged the new sultan’s rule.147 In spite of Qavurt

Beg’s efforts, however, Malikshah suppressed this uprising with the assistance of Nizam al-Mulk.148 Following the rebellion, Malikshah enlarged the power of the vizierate.

Malikshah allowed Nizam al-Mulk to handle “all affairs, great and small” in exchange for his loyalty to the sultan.149 This gave Nizam al-Mulk unprecedented power in the Saljuq political system, power unmatched by his successors or his predecessors. Bosworth notes that Nizam al-Mulk always had plans for the young sultan, as he saw the opportunity to

“control and adapt” the eighteen-year-old sultan “to his own ideal of a despotic monarch.”150 Interestingly as well, Bosworth argues that Nizam al-Mulk operated as an unofficial atabeg to the sultan, running the empire in place of a young ruler, despite the fact that the term did not gain full use until the post-Malikshah period.151 Even though

Nizam al-Mulk did not hold the title of atabeg, the dissemination of power to Nizam al-

Mulk from Malikshah represents the subtle transition of power from the Sultanate to

147Ibn al-Athir, Annals of the Saljuq Turks, 178-80.

148Nizam al-Mulk played a pivotal role in Malikshah’s taking of the throne. He convinced the troops and amirs to enter into an oath, bayʽa, with Malikshah in exchange for money. Eric Hanne, “Ritual and Reality: The Bay’a Process in Eleventh-and Twelfth-century Islamic Courts,” in Court Ceremonise and Rituals of Power in Byzantium and the Medieval Mediterranean: Comparative Perspectives, ed. Alexander Beihammer, Stavroula Constantinou, and Maria Parani (Boston, MA: Leiden University Press, 2013): 155.

149 Ibid., 181.

150Bosworth, “The Political and Dynastic History,” 68.

151Ibid., 68; Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Nizam al-Mulk,” 70.

45 various figures throughout the empire, as they began to gain more power alongside the

Sultanate. This issue came to fruition through the post-Malikshah period and into the twelfth century.

Even though the position held weight and importance before Malikshah’s death, the post-Malikshah period witnessed the rise of the atabeg to a position of major power resulting in a weaker Sultanate. In an attempt to govern larger portions of the Saljuq

Empire, military allies received the title of atabeg when the Saljuq government assigned these figures a political territory to govern in exchange for teaching and tutoring a son of the sultan.152 During this prince’s youth, the atabeg controlled all of the territories allotted to the prince, with the purpose of keeping the son from rebelling against his father.153 By receiving the role of atabeg, these figures gained the resources necessary to consolidate individual power within the territories given to them. As the system had no

“checks on injustice or tyranny,” many attempted revolts against the administration in order to solidify their own holdings in the Saljuq lands.154 The lack of a defined hierarchy gave more importance to an informal system of government that used personal oaths and patronage as methods to choose successors. This gave atabegs, the freedom necessary to establish minor dynasties within the greater Saljuq Empire if they managed to navigate the system successfully.

During his reign, Malikshah expanded the territory that he had inherited from his father. Malikshah, according to Bosworth, focused on three different agendas throughout

152 Lambton, “Internal Structure,” 240. The term atabeg originated during the Saljuq period. Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Atabak,” 731.

153Klausner, The Seljuk Vizierate, 85.

154 Ibid., 21.

46 his career: “the crushing of opposition from ambitious members of the Saljuq family…the humbling of external foes on the eastern and north-western frontiers of Iran,” and the establishment of “relations with the Caliphate and the extension of Saljuq power into Syria and the Arabian Peninsula.”155 Malikshah, understanding the importance of the

Caliphate during his reign, showered al-Muqtadi, the successor of al-Qa’im, with gifts.156

Malikshah succeeded in expanding the Saljuq Empire, but his reign only lasted twenty years, despite his young age at the time he took the throne.157 In 484-485/1092, the fragile Saljuq political system began to break down. On October 14/ Ramadhan 10,

Nizam al-Mulk became the first victim of the Muslim Assassin group on his way to the city of Baghdad.158 Although the reasoning behind the assassination of Nizam al-Mulk remains a mystery, his death had a profound impact on the Saljuq Empire. Nizam al-

Mulk had taken power during Alp Arlsan’s reign and effectively governed the Empire during the reign of Malikshah. Nizam “was able to have his own way for a number of

155Bosworth, “The Political and Dynastic History,” 87. Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Saldjukids,” 941. Bosworth notes that during Malikshah’s reign, the Saljuq lands reached their peak. Bosworth, “The Political and Dynastic History,” 66.

156Ibn al-Athir, Annals of the Saljuq Turks, 227-28. Although it appears that Malikshah still needed to understand his role in power alongside the Caliphate, Ibn al-Athir articulates the idea that the caliph wanted to marry the daughter of Malikshah. This shows that the caliph understood the power of the Sultanate at this point and desired to form an alliance with the Saljuqs. Ibid., 203. During the year 480/1187-1188, Zengi’s father, Qasim al-Dawla Aqsunqur, became the atabeg of Aleppo under Malikshah, a position that proved beneficial to Zengi attainment of power. Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Zengi,” 451; Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Ak Sunkur,” 314. Because of his father’s prominent role under Malikshah, Zengi grew up with a heavy Saljuq influence, as Aqsunqur’s relationship with the Sultanate and the people he governed proved crucial to Zengi’s early career. Aqsunqur, according to Ibn al-Athir, appears to have “ruled with justice” and a strong sense of loyalty. Ibn al-Athir, Annals of the Saljuq Turks, 233, 274.

157Malikshah was only eighteen upon his rise to the Sultanate.

158Cahen notes that the Assassins, or Ismailis, begun under al-Ḥasan b. as-Ṣabbaḥ, had developed their holdings around the fortress of Alamut. Cahen, “The Turkish Invasion,” 161.

47 years,” in terms of running the government.159 A little over a month later, on 14 Shawwal

485/November 17, 1092, Malikshah became ill while on a hunting trip and suddenly died.

Within a matter of months, the deaths of two of the most important figures within the

Saljuq Empire caused a power vacuum that ignited a period of political infighting. 160 The death of these two figures severely crippled the Saljuq Empire’s political system, and, as

Bosworth notes, “the caliphs would never again have to fear so powerful a member of the

Great Saljuq dynasty.”161

The infighting among the various figures vying for the Sultanate and the Saljuqs dependence on familial succession proved to be damaging to the Saljuq Empire following

Malikshah’s death.162 After his death, Malikshah’s wife, Turkan Khatun (d.487/1094), attempted to gather support for her son Mahmud to take over the Sultanate. She appealed to the caliph al-Muqtadi for support; the caliph responded by stating that her son “is young and the law does not allow him to be ruler.”163 The caliph, al-Muqtadi, died soon

159Hubert Darke, “Introduction” in The Book of Government or Rules for King (London: Routledge University Press, 2001), x.

160 Carole Hillenbrand, “1092: A Murderous Year,” The Arabist 15-16 (1995): 285-88. In her article, Hillenbrand lays out four potential murderers of Nizam al-Mulk: the assassins, Malikshah, Taj al- Mulk, and Turkan Khatun, all of which had political reasons to assassinate Nizam al-Mulk. She also discusses that Malikshah’s death may have also been a plot to eliminate the sultan by three potential parties: Turkan Khatun, Taj al-Mulk, and the Abbasid caliph al-Muqtadi. Although she does not come to any true conclusions as to who called for the deaths of these two men, Hillenbrand does provide important information as to who had the desire to see these two men gone. Al-Muqtadi died two years after the deaths of Nizam al-Mulk and Malikshah under mysterious circumstances.

161Bosworth, “The Political and Dynastic History,” 102.

162Ibn al-Athir notes that Malikshah’s chosen heir and son Ahmad died in 482/1088-89, an event that truly upset Malikshah. Ibn al-Athir, Annals of the Saljuq Turks, 238.

163Ibn al-Athir, Annals of the Saljuq Turks, 262. Mahmud was only an infant at the time of Malikshah’s death. Hillenbrand, “1092,” 290.

48 after in the year 470/1094, and was succeeded by his son al-Mustazhir bi’llah.164 Within two years, three of the most influential figures in the Saljuq and Abbasid governments died, leaving a number of young and unproven rulers in their lands.

After the death of Malikshah became public, Turkan Khatun, fearful that her plan for her son would fail, ordered the arrest of the eldest son of Malikshah, Barkyaruq, as she worried he would make a bid for the Sultanate.165 Despite her efforts, the news of

Malikshah’s death continued to spread. A number of members of the Nizamiyya,

“partisans and protégés” of Nizam al-Mulk, rioted and freed Barkyaruq, pronouncing the khutbah in his name.166 Barkyaruq, supported by the Nizami , went to battle with

Turkan Khatun over the Sultanate and defeated her when her forces began to support her rival.167 Barkyaruq’s name was proclaimed in the khutba and his office confirmed by the caliph al-Muqtadi, moments before his death.168

Although Barkyaruq experienced success against Turkan Khatun, another entity began to contend for the Sultanate, further complicating the political situation.

Malikshah’s brother, Tutush b. Alp Arlsan, held Damascus at the time and upon hearing of the death of his brother, made a bid for the Sultanate.169 The atabegs of Aleppo,

164Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Al-Mustazhir Bi’llah,” 755-56.

165Ibid.

166Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “ Nizammiyya,” 81. The Nizammiyya began to exert their influence in the years following the death of Malikshah, specifically surrounding the securing of Barkyaruq’ recognition as sultan.

167 Ibn al-Athir, Annals of the Saljuq Turks, 263.

168Ibid., 271-72. Al-Mustazhir succeeded al-Muqtadi after his death.

169 Ibn al-Athir notes that Malikshah gave Tutush the area of Syria as well as “whatever he could conquer in those regions.” Tutush took Damascus in 470/1077-1078. Ibn al-Athir, Annals of the Saljuq Turks, 197. 49

Antioch, and Edessa, worried over the feuds between Malikshah’s sons, allied with

Tutush and proclaimed the khutbah in his name.170 This split in the Sultanate forced a number of prominent amirs to choose sides, causing a further division in the political system, as power began to transfer to figures other than the Sultanate.

Zengi, born seven years before the death of Malikshah, witnessed the succession issues and the ramifications of these issues first hand. Aqsunqur, one of Malikshah’s atabegs whom Malikshah appointed to govern Mosul in 480/1187-1188, supported

Barkyaruq over Tutush. Unfortunately, Tutush captured and killed Aqsunqur, leaving

Zengi orphaned at the age of ten.171 Upon Aqsunqur’s death, Karbugha, amir of Mosul, adopted Zengi, and he received care from other members of Aqsunqur’s “military entourage.”172 This proved to be a major point in Zengi’s life and demonstrates the influence of the familial alliances that took place throughout the Saljuq period.

Tutush proved to be a bitter rival of Barkyaruq. Resolute in his attempt to take the

Sultanate away from him, Tutush began to establish himself further in the Saljuq lands, taking the areas of Diyar Bakr, Azerbayjan, and Edessa.173 Tutush also succeeded in defeating Barkyaruq in Nisibis in 487/1094, the same year that both Turkan Kahtun

170 Ibid., 265.

171 Bosworth, “The Political and Dynastic History,” 102-8. Ibn al-Athir shows his bias in his discussion of the death of Aksunkur labeling him as “one of the best Amirs [sic].” Ibn al-Athir, Annals of the Saljuq Turks, 274. Fletcher notes that this was common during succession crises, as many of the prominent members of the society “had to decide which candidate to support” with the hope that they had chosen the correct member, as failure would result in the “forfeit” of “his position or his life.” Fletcher, “Turco-Mongolian Monarchic Tradition,” 240.

172 Carol Hillenbrand, “The Career of Zengi,” 114. Kerbogha was the Muslim ruler who lost the city of Antioch to the Crusaders in 1097. Madden, The New Concise History, 27-30.

173Ibn al-Athir, Annals of the Saljuq Turks, 267, 273-74 50 and her son Mahmud b. Malikshah died.174 A year later, after learning of the illness of

Barkyaruq, Tutush engaged the forces of Barkyaruq outside Rayy. This battle cost Tutush his life at the hands of a supporter of Aqsunqur, whom Tutush had murdered years earlier.175 With the elimination of Tutush, Barkyaruq established complete control of the

Sultanate.176 While Barkyaruq strengthened his hold on the Sultanate, the Saljuqs still had to quell the growing power of the atabegs and stop the infighting that had plagued the

Saljuq line for three years.

The fighting over the succession of Malikshah demonstrates a key aspect to the

Saljuq style of government that affected the succession of Tughril Beg and Alp Arslan.

Fletcher notes that the nomadic tribes hailing from the Turco-Mongolian tradition of governing - the Saljuqs included- pitted family members against one another in order to determine the next ruler of their people.177 This internecine fighting, however, proved detrimental to those that employed this type of government.178 While there are hints of this type of struggle surrounding the succession of Alp Arslan to the Sultanate, these issues come to the forefront with Malikshah’s successors. The familial and personal rule of the Saljuqs led to internal strife and caused an already decentralized government to

174Ibid., 275-76.

175Ibid., 279. Barkyaruq had come down with a case of smallpox that he caught from his exposure to his brother Mahmud. Mahmud died due to this illness; Barkyaruq recovered. Ibid., 275

176Ibid.

177Fletcher, “Turco-Mongolian Monarchic Traditions,” 239.

178Ibid., 239-41.

51 become even more porous.179 This ultimately allowed for figures, such as Zengi, to manipulate political entities in order to establish independence from the Saljuq sultan.

The atabegs witnessed increased power and prestige following the succession of

Malikshah. Amirs, or political governors, also experienced a growth in their political power. These figures received direct appointment by the Saljuq leadership.180 Those who were amirs initially received a shihna, or a military liaison for their control.181 In the

Abbasid period (132-923/750-1517), amirs held responsibility over the “civil and financial administration.”182 Amirs witnessed an increased level of prominence throughout the Buyid period (322-453/934-1062) due to the decline of the Abbasid

Caliphate.183 According to Siddiqi, an “amir by force” began to “without the knowledge or consent of the caliph, take possession of certain territories by force of arms.”184 The

Buyids in the fourth/tenth century represent these types of amirs, as they “usurped all authority from the caliph and made him their prisoner.”185 By the time of the Saljuqs, the new power of the military allowed for the development of this office further. The Saljuq government relied on a variety of amirs, all of which served a different purpose to the

179Cahen, “The Turkish Invasion,” 162.

180 Lambton, “Internal Structure,” 225.

181 Ibid., 20. The shihna stood for “an administrative-military term in the mediaeval eastern Islamic world.” Whoever received the shihna became a governor responsible for “public order, security on the roads and the suppression of bandits and robbers.” Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Shihna,” 437.

182Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Amirs,” 439.

183 Siddiqi, “Caliphate and Kingship,” 566.

184 Ibid., 122.

185 Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Amirs,” 439; Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Buwayhids,” 1350-57.

52

Empire.186 Their responsibility revolved around the establishment of a military base in the areas assigned to them as well as the levying of taxes.187 These responsibilities enabled the person holding this office the opportunity to develop a strong base of power alongside the Sultanate. This forced the Saljuq sultans to divert their attention towards suppressing the power of the amirs instead of protecting their borders or providing checks on other rulers in the area.

After the reigns of Malikshah and Alp Arslan, the Saljuq sultans began to focus more on their internal issues instead of keeping control of their political holdings. The delegation of rule to the amirs and atabegs gave them the opportunity to take power from them. Because of the strength of the amirs and their ability to treat the Saljuq princes as

“puppets,” the atabegs gained even more freedom.188 Atabegs and amirs both began to take the title of “Malik” and “exercised full governing authority.”189 These figures began to establish their lands and bases of power alongside the Sultanate.

While the Saljuq Empire dealt with the issues surrounding the succession of

Malikshah, a new enemy emerged from the west in response to the Turkish threat. Pope

Urban II, in 1095, called for a holy war against the Muslims in order to secure safe passage for pilgrims and retake the city of Jerusalem from the Muslims. Alexius I, the

Byzantine Emperor who came to power in 1081, had appealed to the papacy for

186 Klausner, The Seljuk Vezierate, 225. Klausner establishes three different types of amirs, all of which gained further prominence after the death of Malikshah. The landed amirs were those who held administrative offices. Wandering amirs “owed no permanent allegiance to anyone, but moved about the empire serving different leaders and taking possession of districts as opportunities arose.”

187 Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Amir,” 438-39.

188 Lambton, The Internal Structure, 241.

189 Klausner, The Saljuq Vizierate, 92-97.

53 assistance against the growing strength of the Saljuqs and Urban saw this as an opportunity to expand his power within Christendom and unite the Eastern and Western churches under papal authority.190 Using the appeal of “remissions of the penalties of sin, church protection of property and family, and immunity from litigation and debt repayment,” Urban succeeded in convincing a number of nobles and peasants to fight on behalf of Christianity.191 While the Crusades did not have a major impact on the Saljuqs during the early years, the coming of the Christian forces eventually developed into an issue the Saljuqs needed to resolve.

In 1096, the Frankish forces from the west began to invade Muslim lands east of

Constantinople. Under the leadership of Frankish nobles, not the papacy or the kings of the European lands, the Crusaders embarked on a “pilgrimage” to the .192 By

1099, Muslim forces lost the cities of Edessa, Antioch and Jerusalem, even though, as

Bosworth notes, the “Saljuq sultans were never directly threatened by the Crusaders,” as the Crusaders never ventured into the heart of the Saljuq Empire.193 The invasions of an alien force proved problematic, as it added yet another difficult adversary for rulers, whether it be amirs, atabegs, or those who received a shihna. Hillenbrand, in her

190 Marshall W. Baldwin, “Some Recent Interpretations of Pope Urban II’s Eastern Policy,” The Catholic Historical Review 25, no. 4 (1940): 462; Jonathan Riley- Smith, The First Crusade and the Idea of Crusading (London: The Athlone Press, 1986), 13. Runciman believes that Alexius Comnenus “was to prove the greatest statesman of his time.” Runciman, The First Crusade, 58. Runciman also believes that, because of the financial burden’s previous emperors had placed on the , “the state of the empire in 1081 was such that only a man of great courage or of great stupidity would have undertaken its government.” Ibid., 59. Alexius I succeeded in rebuilding the army and establishing a “large administration” through his handling of the financial crises. Ibid., 59.

191 Christopher Tyerman, Fighting for Christendom: Holy War and the Crusades (New York: Oxford University Press, 2004), 16.

192Madden, The New Concise History, 15-35.

193Bosworth, “The Political and Dynastic History,” 103. 54 discussion of the Muslim world before the coming of the First Crusade, notes that the rulers of Aleppo, Mosul, and Damascus, whose lands the Crusades directly affected, lacked unity against the Crusading forces. Hillenbrand notes that if the Saljuqs and

Fatimids had united their forces the Muslim armies “could have contained and eradicated the Crusader threat before it was too late.”194 The sultans typically stayed away from the actions surrounding the Crusades as they dealt with larger issues, such as securing their throne among the various contenders; yet the Crusades did have an immediate effect on the Saljuqs.

The concept of political figures adhering to their own agendas instead of staying loyal to the Sultanate caused problems for the Saljuqs. The Saljuqs, a band of tribesmen, succeeded in establishing themselves as sultans and developed similar authority and power to that of the Caliphate through the reigns of Tughril Beg, Alp Arslan, and

Malikshah. The first three sultans held similar agendas; to establish their holdings in the area. As other figures, such as Zengi, began to amass power with their own specific agendas the power and authority of the sultans weakened. The Saljuq sultans Tughril

Beg, Alp Arslan, and Malikshah had established a strong standing empire, but their dependency on family politics, as well as others to do their bidding for them, allowed upstart rulers to contest their successors’ reigns.

The period surrounding Malikshah’s succession saw the growth in power of the amirs and atabegs. Throughout the subsequent reigns of Malikshah’s successors, these figures grew in power even more. Atabegs and amirs began to consolidate power in the lands the sultan assigned them, weakening the increasingly decentralized Saljuq Empire.

194Hillenbrand, Islamic Perspectives, 47-48. 55

Zengi rose to power during this period and took advantage of the political system as it functioned after Malkshah’s death. He followed precedents established by those who came before him and when the opportunity arose, he took advantage. The chaos following Malikshah’s death allowed Zengi the opportunity to gather support and develop a strong entourage necessary for establishing a dynasty in the Muslim lands.

Zengi succeeded in successfully navigating the Saljuq political system. While his career involved a number of different political relationships with various figures in the Saljuq

Empire and the Abbasid caliphate, Zengi did whatever was necessary to further his own agenda and establish himself as an autonomous entity within the Saljuq Empire.

56

CHAPTER II: POLITICAL RELATIONSHIPS

Zengi’s political career allowed him the opportunity to enter into numerous political relationships that he then used as a method to promote his own independence.

The figures that Zengi interacted with all gave him the tools necessary to continue to advance his plans. While Zengi had the pedigree of a strong father who embedded himself within the Saljuq system, he still needed to amass power and lands in order to establish himself as a separate entity from the Saljuqs. Zengi forged relationships with sultans, caliphs, and other atabegs throughout his career. An examination of these relationships, along with his reasoning behind his altering of these relationships, displays

Zengi’s overall mindset as he developed a powerbase alongside the Saljuqs.

The political developments throughout the reigns of Tughril Beg, Alp Arlslan and

Malikshah allowed Zengi the opportunity to achieve positions of power and consolidate his land holdings. The Saljuqs established a familial confederacy that led to the rise of weak successors, allowing the power of provincial governors, atabegs, and amirs to grow in strength. While the Sultanate and the Caliphate held power and authority, the atabegs desired to see this power and authority in their hands and to establish their own independence separate from the Saljuq sultan. Zengi focused on building his own autonomous realm and understood that in order to succeed, he needed the support of various figures throughout the Saljuq Empire, regardless of their positions within the political structure.

57

Zengi’s career brought him into contact with a variety of players in the larger

Saljuq political structure. Throughout his military and political exploits, Zengi formed important political relationships that allowed his career to advance. Zengi saw the importance of these relationships and used them in order to amass power. More importantly, however, these relationships assisted in the maintenance of his power in a political structure where new warlords fought among themselves to consolidate their own bases of power. Zengi developed, according to el-Azhari, “a long, perplexing relationship” with the Saljuqs, entering into the services of various Saljuq lords, including the sultans.195 Regardless of the alliances he established, Zengi still followed a number of trends that the sons of Malikshah used in their own attempts at autonomy. Zengi also worked closely with the Abbasid caliphs al-Mustarshid bi’llah and al-Rashid bi’llah, in an attempt to establish religious legitimacy, and to form an alliance with figures that held power to assist him against the sultan.196

An examination of Zengi’s political relationships with the various figures of the period shows that Zengi exploited and manipulated these relationships in a manner that would ultimately benefit his goal of amassing power within the Saljuq Empire in order to achieve autonomy. Zengi did not hesitate to change his allegiances if it was in his best interest to do so. After Zengi had amassed a considerable base of power, he needed to strengthen his holdings in a way that would allow him the opportunity to defend the military power he acquired while also continue to strengthen his holdings, with the ongoing goal of establishing his own independence.

195El-Azhari, “Imad al-Din Zanki,” 13.

196For more on al-Mustarshid, see Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Al-Mustarshid,” 733-35. For more in depth coverage of al-Rashid, see Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Al-Rashid, 439-40.

58

The death of his father had an impact on Zengi b. Aqsunqur’s career, as the legacy of his father gave him the opportunity to learn under his father’s military entourage. As discussed in the previous chapter, Tutush b. Alp Arslan had beheaded

Aqusunqur, a prominent amir under sultan Malikshah, for Aqsunqur’s support of his rival

Barkyaruq.197 The sources do not provide any evidence of the immediate impact of

Aqsunqur’s death on his son, but his adoption by his father’s military supporters allowed him the opportunity to gain valuable experience under the tutelage of a number of strong

Muslim military leaders. As mentioned previously, upon Zengi’s father’s death,

Karbugha, amir of Mosul, became “the patron of Zengi.”198 By 488/1095, Barkyaruq had solidified his position as sultan, disposing of his enemy Tutush.199 Barkyaruq, according to Bosworth, spent the better part of his Sultanate quelling uprisings as well as dealing with others who had their own claims to the Sultanate, specifically Muhammad b.

Malikshah.200 During this period, alliances between the various amirs shifted as a number of amirs joined the ranks of Muhammad, including Karbugha.201 The constant battles between Barkyaruq and Muhammad led to a depletion of the sultan’s resources; the constant struggle, according to Ibn al-Athir, caused him to come down with an illness,

197Alptekin notes that Aqsunqur “was the first Saljuq [sic] ruler of Aleppo” further articulating the importance Aqsunqur held during Malikshah’s reign. Alptekin, “The Career of Zengi,” 31.

198Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, 15. Hillenbrand argues that this adoption had a definitive effect on Zengi’s career, believing that Zengi focused his exploits around Mosul because of Karbugha’s relationship with the city. Hillenbrand, “Abominable Acts,” 114.

199Bosworth, “The Political and Dynastic History,” 107.

200Ibid., 108. Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Mahmud b. Muhammad b. Malik-Shah,” 64-65.

201 Ibid., 108-9.

59 ultimately leading to his death in 498/1105, at the age of twenty-five.202 The khutbah was announced for Barkyaruq’s son, Malikshah b. Barkyaruq, but Muhammad quickly journeyed to Baghdad to contest this appointment and received the Sultanate for himself.203

Muhammad’s road to the Sultanate clearly displays a number of the issues that challenged the Saljuq political infrastructure in the post-Malikshah era. With the internecine fighting that plagued Barkyaruq, the various amirs and atabegs began to shift allegiances in order to benefit their own personal plans. As mentioned, this trend had begun during the reign of the first three sultans. Bosworth notes that various Turkish atabegs “not only exercised power on their charges’ behalf, but often succeeded in arrogating effective power for themselves.”204 While he associates this with the post-

Muhammad b. Malikshah era, the beginning of this shift in power is easily discernable throughout the post-Malikshah period. Since these figures began to strengthen their own military holdings, the sultans needed to forge alliances with amirs and atabegs. The loss of these allegiances crippled the sultan’s power, as demonstrated through Barkyaruq’s reign as sultan. It is here that Zengi became active militarily. The porous governmental structure gave him the opportunity to gather power and provided the understanding of the importance of successful manipulation of political relationships as a method of securing power.

202Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, 84.

203Ibid., 85, 87-88. Bosworth, “The Political and Dynastic History,” 111.

204Bosworth, “The Political and Dynastic History,” 112.

60

Between the years 494-512/1100-1118, Ibn al-Athir discusses Zengi only three times. As the main chronicler of this period, Ibn al-Athir’s neglect of Zengi’s exploits during these years proves interesting. Since he does go into considerable detail regarding

Zengi’s career during the years 515-538/1121-1144, his lack of coverage about his early career leads to the impression that Zengi did not play any major roles in the activities of the period. The multiple times that he receives mention, however, deserves some analysis as they display crucial aspects to Zengi’s character and help to explain the reasoning behind his actions in the early sixth/twelfth century.

Ibn al-Athir discusses Zengi for the first time in terms of his military exploits in

498/1104-1105. Karbugha, the man who watched over Zengi following his father’s death, had engaged in a battle with Suqman b. Artuq. Zengi fought on behalf of Karbugha, in spite of the fact that Ibn al-Athir labels him “a child.”205 In order to show Zengi’s importance within Karbugha’s armies, Ibn al-Athir relates a story regarding the fighting, where Zengi’s lineage led the men to victory: “When the fighting was at its fiercest and

Suqman had the upper hand, Aqsunqur’s men threw Zengi, their master’s son, among the hooves of the horses and said, ‘Fight for your master’s child!’ They then fought very fiercely and Suqman was defeated.”206 Ibn al-Athir’s excerpt shows that Zengi still held a strong support base, despite the murder of his father and his youth. Mottahedeh acknowledges that these types of bonds existed during the period and stresses the importance of genealogy and honor to soldiers, leading to the “adoption of one family or

205Ibid., 90. Born in roughly 478/1085, Zengi would have been 20 years old. Ibn al-Athir may have been referring to Zengi’s in a military sense as opposed to actual age. His military career had just begun at this point leading to Ibn al-Athir’s labeling of Zengi as “a child.” This could, however, stem from a translation issue and not necessarily inadequate work on Ibn al-Athir’s part.

206Ibid.

61 people by another.” 207 These oaths forced figures into lifelong contracts with one another and led them to provide support for each other. These ideas reinforce the importance of familial ties that lied within the basic structure of Saljuq politics.

Oaths and allegiances proved important to the overall function of the Saljuq

Empire. The success of the decentralized system of the Saljuqs required the establishment and maintenance of strong oaths in order to secure a support base outside of the immediate governing area. Mottahedeh, in his work, Loyalty and Leadership in an Early

Islamic Society, discusses the importance of oaths and loyalties in the Islamic world during the fourth-fifth/tenth-eleventh centuries. Mottahedeh argues that early Buyid society “was characterized by the formality of certain ties between individuals, and the informality of ties within groups.”208 These oaths formed the structure of political relationships during the Buyid period, and continued to be important through the Saljuq period. Mottahedeh uses the Buyids because he believes that during this period oath

“forerunners” existed as did loyalties that “would later become a significant feature of

Near Eastern societies.” 209 Scholars have shown that these oaths existed prior to the

Buyids, pushing their development to the early period surrounding the spread of Islam.210

Despite this, however, Mottahedeh discusses the continued religious importance of

Islamic loyalty oaths and vows, both of which encompassed crucial aspects to Islamic

207Roy Mottahedeh, Loyalty and Leadership in an Early Islamic Society, 98

208Ibid., 6.

209Ibid.

210 Andrew Marsham discusses the importance of oaths of loyalty as well, but focuses on the Umayyad and early Abbasid period instead. Marsham argues that the oaths of early Islam reflected “the fusion of late antique African and Near Eastern Judaeo-Christian monotheism with much older Arabian religious and political customs.” Andrew Marsham, Rituals of Islamic : Accession and Succession in the First Muslim Empire (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2009), 8.

62 society. Oaths, according to Mottahedeh, acted as “the explicit and formal vehicle by which one man committed himself to another.”211 Enacted between various members of society, oaths took place between caliphs and amirs, amirs and their officials, and, most importantly, God and all Muslims.212 These oaths and allegiances provided the backbone for this type of decentralized government and various figures entered into these allegiances in order for political advancement. Zengi entered into a number of oaths throughout his career, all of which held some importance to his overall goals of amassing power, even if he broke the oath in order to promote his goals.

In 502/1108, Zengi took part in a battle between Jawuli Saqao, a Muslim amir, and Tancred of Antioch.213 Zengi’s involvement in this altercation is miniscule as he abandoned Jawuli upon hearing about sultan Muhammad b. Malikshah’s invasion of

Mosul. Ibn al-Athir notes that Zengi had made Mosul his home at this point in his career, and having received word that the sultan had begun to seize the “treasury and property” of Mosul, it is likely that Zengi abandoned his alliance to protect his own interests.214

While another minor event in the military career of Zengi, it provides an important glimpse into his mindset. Zengi cared more for his personal lands than the overall success of the Muslim forces against the Frankish enemies. While Zengi’s abandonment of the siege portrays him in a negative fashion, it shows that Zengi understood the necessity of holding on to the lands and money that he had accumulated.

211Ibid., 42.

212Ibid., 42-60.

213Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, 141.

214Ibid.

63

These events represent minor occurrences in Zengi’s career. The year 508/1114-

1115 provides some key information that highlights the reasoning behind the moves

Zengi made throughout the remainder of his career. Aqsunqur al-Bursuqi (d. 520/1126-

1127)215 received a commission from sultan Muhammad to take the position as

“governor” of Mosul. Muhammad’s son, Mas’ud, 216 another key figure in the beginning of Zengi’s career, joined al-Bursuqi on his journey to Mosul with the intention of fighting the Franks.217 Ibn al-Athir notes that upon their arrival the troops in Mosul joined their ranks. Ibn al-Athir mentions only one figure in particular: Zengi. With the troops from

Mosul, al-Bursuqi’s armies marched toward Edessa, with the intention of taking the city from the Franks. The Franks defeated the Muslim forces, and al-Bursuqi fled.218 Ibn al-

Athir simply introduced Zengi onto the scene, noting that he was “valiant in the extreme.”219 This allowed Zengi the opportunity to prove himself as a soldier in a larger force of Muslim warriors. The politics of the day dictated that those who succeeded on the battlefield eventually received positions of power. Zengi received the chance to develop critical political relationships as well, specifically with al-Bursuqi and Prince

Mas’ud; these relationships would greatly influence Zengi’s later career.

The first two references to Zengi in Ibn al-Athir’s account show that Zengi did not play a major role in the military affairs of the day. The third, however, indicates Zengi’s

215 Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Ak Sunḳur al-Bursuḳi,” 314.

216Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Masʽud b. Muḥammad b. Malik-Shah,” 782.

217 Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, 166.

218Ibid.

219Ibid.

64 success on the battlefield and show that early in his career, Zengi began to forge relationships with various lords, including prominent amirs and princes in line for the

Sultanate. His actions further represent an attempt at consolidation. Zengi, around 34-35 years old at the time, had just begun to institute himself as a viable military commander.

These were the formative years of Zengi’s career, when he began to establish himself among the other figures that desired power.

Ibn al-Athir provides a more in-depth coverage of Zengi’s military exploits beginning in 512/1118. In this same year, sultan Muhammad passed away from an illness and the Sultanate passed to his son Mahmud.220 This year also saw the death of the caliph al-Mustaẓhir bi’llah, whose rule lasted slightly over twenty-four years. Following al-Mustazhir’s death, al-Mustarshid bi’llah replaced him as caliph.221 Similar to

485/1092, two major figures within the Saljuq political system died within a year of each other, leading to the rise of new figures who vied for power. Hanne notes that the relationship between the sultan Muhammad and al-Mustazhir “did not entail the hostilities one saw in both previous and later relationships between the Saljuqs and

Abbasids.”222 This façade came crumbling down, however, as the successive sultans and caliphs would again be at odds with one another. Zengi would find himself in the midst of these disagreements, and the side he supported varied as the situation necessitated.

220Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, 183. While Maḥmud became sultan in the Western lands, his uncle Sanjar, held seniority over his nephew. Bosworth notes that despite the precedent of the supreme Sultanate to existing in the western portion of the empire, Sanjar, located in the Eastern Saljuq lands, held the supreme Sultanate. Bosworth, “The Political and Dynastic History,” 119-20. Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Maḥmud b. Muḥammad b. Malik-Shah,” 64-65.

221Ibid., 190-1; Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Al-Mustarshid bi’llah,” 733.

222Hanne, Putting the Caliph in His Place, 141.

65

In this same year, Zengi began to work closely with al-Bursuqi as well as Prince

Mas’ud, travelling with them to Baghdad. The Mazyadid amir Dubays, a figure who interacted with Zengi numerous times throughout his career, came into conflict with al-

Bursuqi and Prince Mas’ud and camped outside Baghdad in order to invade the city.223

Al-Bursuqi took Zengi with him to defend the city from Dubays’ forces. This is the first mention of Zengi’s involvement in an event where his actions receive complete coverage within Ibn al-Athir’s account. Although Ibn al-Athir labels Zengi as “courageous” in this regard, there is little evidence from the chronicler as to his actual involvement in the skirmish.224 It is important, however, for Ibn al-Athir to include Zengi in this account, even though he was involved in a minor fashion. His working with al-Bursuqi represents

Zengi’s first attempts at forging relationships during his career. Zengi would alter these relationships, including the one with al-Bursuqi, as his own independence became a reality.

Zengi’s early military career benefited from the relationship he had with al-

Bursuqi. Zengi worked closely with al-Bursuqi and as al-Bursuqi began to receive recognition from the Saljuqs, he rewarded Zengi by giving him multiple subordinate positions. While Ibn al-Athir does not necessarily state that they swore oaths of fealty to one another, al-Bursuqi’s conferment of these positions on Zengi reflect the basic concepts of the political system of the period, heavily dependent on patronage and the dispersion of territories to be governed by members of political supporters. By 515/1121-

1122, al-Burusuqi had received the city of Mosul from sultan Mahmud for his assistance

223Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, 193.

224Ibid.

66 in battle against his brother.225 In the following year, 516/1122-1123, al-Bursuqi received the city of Wasit from the sultan. Al-Bursuqi delegated administration of his lands to

Zengi, which he agreed to do.226 Zengi had also developed a positive reputation for himself, at least in the eyes of al-Bursuqi, culminating in his delegation to Wasit. Up until this point, there is no evidence to suggest that Zengi received any positions of power in the Saljuq Empire and that this became his first official appointment.

Zengi had effectively worked his way up the ranks of al-Bursuqi’s army, resulting in the various appointments to govern Wasit and . In 516/1123-1124, Zengi took part in a battle between the caliph al-Mustarshid and Dubays. Zengi, once again, fought on behalf of al-Bursuqi who supported the caliph in this conflict and received Basra, which he charged Zengi to govern.227 His relationship with al-Bursuqi, built through

Zengi’s previous engagements with and his loyalty to al-Bursuqi, allowed Zengi the opportunity to advance his own cause within the Saljuq Empire.228 In the years that followed, Zengi began to shift his allegiances as he recognized that he held more power and influence than al-Bursuqi and began to establish his own personal power within the areas he governed.

225Ibid., 229. Ibn al-Athir notes that Prince Mas’ud revolted against his brother in 514/1120-1121. Al-Bursuqi worked closely with sultan Mahmud during this revolt and in return he received Mosul. Ibn al- Athir does not mention if Zengi had been involved in the conflict specifically. Ibn al-Qalanisi and Ibn al- Azraq do not mention this event within their own chronicles, so it is impossible to discern if Zengi took part in the revolt, despite his association with al-Bursuqi before and after the revolt occurred. Ibid., 210

226 Ibid., 240.

227Ibid., 243.

228In his Encyclopedia of Islam article, Cahen notes that al-Bursuqi, before his death, had begun to consolidate his own power in an attempt at autonomy. Al-Bursuqi had “combined…Saldjukid legitimism, represented by his dignity as atabek of a prince, with an almost complete de facto autonomy at Mosul.” Al- Bursuqi’s actions provided a key example for Zengi, who succeeded in establishing himself as an autonomous ruler, as al-Bursuqi tried to do. Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Ak Sunḳur al-Bursuḳi,” 314.

67

Now beginning to develop his power, 518/1124-1125 proved to be a crucial year for Zengi. Zengi, according to Ibn al-Athir, governed Basra exceptionally well, resulting in the citizen’s “admiration” of their appointed ruler.229 When al-Bursuqi asked Zengi to join him, he refused, stating “We are tired of our present situation. Every day Mosul has a new emir, who wants us to serve him. I have thought that I might go to the sultan and join him.”230 Zengi, according to Ibn al-Athir’s account, had grown tired of the working under these various amirs and wanted to operate directly under the Sultanate. On the surface,

Zengi appeared to want to give the people of Basra a permanent and effective ruler.

Analysis of the entirety of Zengi’s career up until this point, however, shows that he had established enough of a reputation from his military interactions earlier in his career, that he felt confident in his own abilities as an administrator. Zengi believed that he now had the support necessary to receive his own governmental appointments from the Saljuqs directly in order to govern his areas in the way that he wanted. Because of this increase in both power and confidence, Zengi no longer needed to work under al-Bursuqi and refused his call for assistance in order to develop his own power base.

While Ibn al-Athir paints a negative picture of al-Bursuqi’s governing capabilities based on his claim of what Zengi said at Wasit, other sources provide a different overview. An examination of the other chroniclers of the period shows that Zengi’s claim of the poor governance of the lands he took over functioned as a smoke screen to convince the people of the city to join his ranks and allow him to take leadership of the

229Ibid., 253.

230Ibid., 253. Fletcher notes that an upstart ruler usurping power from the rulers of the area, specifically the highest ruler, represented a common occurrence in this political environment. Fletcher, “Turco-Mongolian Monarchic Tradition,” 240.

68 city. Ibn al-Qalanisi mentions that during the year 518/1124-1125, al-Bursuqi took the city of Aleppo and governed it “with uprightness and protected the interests of the people.”231 This assessment shows that, at least according to Ibn al-Qalanisi, al-Bursuqi governed the city of Aleppo effectively and there is no evidence to suggest that al-

Bursuqi acted in accordance with Zengi’s assessment. Ibn al-Athir, in discussion about al-Bursuqi’s death in 520/1126-1127, notes that he “was one of the best governors” and refers to him as “benevolent.”232 With this in mind, Zengi’s appeal to the people of Wasit about the potential change in leadership seems misleading. Zengi exploited the situation to not only convince the people of Mosul that he had become the best option for the government of Mosul but also that al-Bursuqi, despite the assessments of Ibn al-Qalanisi and Ibn al-Athir, had governed them in an ineffective fashion. Ibn al-Athir’s account combined with Ibn al-Qalanisi’s account of al-Bursuqi’s governance places Zengi’s statement in question. Zengi attempted to convince the people to join his cause, despite the apparent fair government of al-Bursuqi. With this information, it is clear that Zengi attempted to gain power in a particular area at the expense of his superior through convincing the people that al-Bursuqi governed them improperly. Zengi saw this as an opportunity to initiate his plans for autonomy and establish a preliminary support base.

Although his attempted rule did not take immediate effect, in 523/1128-1129

Zengi received formal permission from sultan Mamhud to govern Mosul, which legitimized his presence there. Zengi had heard that the sultan considered Dubays for the position, but he intercepted the sultan on a trip to Baghdad, and paid him 100,000 dinars

231Ibn al-Qalanisi, The Damascus Chronicle, 173. In fact, Ibn al-Qalanisi refers to al-Bursuqi as a “martyr.” Ibid., 177.

232Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, 262.

69 to ensure his position.233 The sultan’s permission to govern Mosul shows that Zengi succeeded in his attempts to oust al-Bursuqi. As evidenced from his comments at Wasit,

Zengi had effectively convinced the people of Mosul to allow him to govern their city instead of al-Bursuqi, with whom he had a previous political relationship.

While his appointment at Mosul at 523/1128-1129 benefited Zengi immensely, the year 520/1126-1127, three years prior, saw Zengi finally come into his own, as he maneuvered various situations in order to strengthen his position within the Saljuq government. In 520/1126-1127 the shihna of Baghdad, Yarunqush al-Zakawi, appealed to sultan Mahmud for assistance against the caliph. Ibn al-Athir states that the caliph, al-

Mustarshid, had not only threatened al-Zakawi’s governorship, but also mobilized armies and had the potential to develop enough military power to defy the sultan.234 Upon hearing this, Mahmud journeyed to Baghdad, and al-Mustarshid left the city. The caliph sent ‘Afif the Eunuch toward Wasit with an army and the sultan responded by sending

Zengi to meet him in battle; Zengi decidedly defeated ‘Afif.235 The sultan and caliph continued to do battle, with the caliph holding the early advantage. The sultan again asked for Zengi’s assistance. Zengi proceeded to amass all of the boats, military equipment, and men he could, and traveled with them to Baghdad. Ibn al-Athir paints an interesting picture of the events that followed:

He set out upstream and, when he was near Baghdad, he ordered all in the boats and on land to don their gear and to make a show of their firmness and zeal. The

233Ibid., 276.

234Ibid., 263. Ibn al-Athir does not specifically mention the reasoning behind the issues between al-Zakawi and the caliph. Al-Mustarshid’s development of military power demonstrates the resurging strength of the Caliphate, which had been weakened through the Buyid and early Saljuq period.

235Ibid., 263-64.

70

boats sailed on and the land troops on the bank spread far and wide. Together, they filled the scene on land and water. The people beheld an amazing sight, which dazzled and astounded them. The sultan and his troops rode to meet them and saw a sight the like of which they had never seen before. ‘Imad al-Din became a great figure in their eyes.236

Upon Zengi’s arrival and recognizing that he had lost a number of troops to the other side, al-Mustarshid sued for peace.237

Zengi’s actions in the battles between the caliph and the sultan helped him in numerous ways. While Zengi participated in various sieges throughout his career that also involved the sultan, this confrontation with the caliph demonstrated Zengi’s abilities to wage war and amass troops successfully, and led to sultan Mahmud appointing him as shihna of Baghdad in 520/1126-1127. The sultan consulted a number of his amirs, inquiring as to who should receive this appointment, and after the decision in favor of

Zengi, the sultan “left Baghdad with a heart at ease as regards Iraq.”238 Hillenbrand believes this appointment shaped the remainder of Zengi’s career, because it provided

Zengi the opportunities to return often to Baghdad and Iraq.239

Zengi also received control of Mosul in this year. Baha’ al-Din and “the amir chaimberlain of al-Bursuqi” Salah al-Din, two figures involved in the appointment of Zengi as shihna of Baghad, heard of Zengi’s consideration for the position of atabeg

236Ibid., 265.

237Ibn al-Athir notes that amir Abu’l-Hayja’ “betrayed” the caliph. Al-Mustarshid wanted to launch a surprise attack on the sultan’s forces. Abu’l-Hayja “went out as though he was intending to fight” but quickly joined the sultan’s forces. Ibid., 264.

238Ibid., 267.

239Hillenbrand, “Abominable Acts,” 118.

71 of Mosul and proceeded to campaign on his behalf.240 They, according to Ibn al-Athir, believed that Zengi possessed the attributes necessary to take back the cities conquered by the Franks in the First Crusade, and so promoted his cause:

You [vizier Sharaf al-Din Anushirwan ibn Khalid] know, as the sultan does too, that the lands of the Jazira and Syria are in the hands of the Franks…Since his death [al-Bursuqi] their ambition [the Franks] has increased…The lands must have an energetic, brave man, endowed with good sense and experience, to defend and protect them and guard their integrity.241

Following this appeal by Baha’ al-Din and Salah al-Din, sultan Mahmud bestowed the title of atabeg of Mosul and the lands surrounding the city upon Zengi, giving him another major position within the greater political arena of the Saljuqs.242 Zengi received this appointment because the sultan recognized his “competence for the job” from his success in the battle between al-Mustarshid and sultan Mahmud. 243

After taking Mosul, Zengi had effectively taken control of Basra and Wasit and been promoted as shihna of Baghdad. Ibn al-Athir’s account describes Zengi’s rise to prominence in a positive way; other chroniclers, however, depict it differently. According to Ibn al-Azraq, al-Bursuqi’s son, Mas’ud (d. 522/1128), had received his lands, specifically Mosul, after his father’s death. Upon his arrival at Baghdad, however, both

Baha’ al-Din and Salah al-Din argued for a reconsideration of the appointment, stating that “he is a young boy, who won’t concern himself with governing and who may well

240Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, 268.

241 Ibn al Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, 268-69. The men noted for bringing this idea to the sultan were Baha’ al-Din and Salah al-Din both of which sought compensation for the speech promoting the Zengi’s cause if he were to be selected for this position.

242 Ibid., 268-69.

243Ibid., 269.

72 not administer the country wisely. We will be blamed for the wrong he does.”244 Because of this, Zengi, according to Ibn al-Azraq, received the position instead of al-Bursuqi’s son.

Ibn al-Azraq, through his account of Zengi’s appointment in Mosul, spotlights one of the major issues that plagued the Saljuq government. Its insistence on familial rule, in which the seats of power passed from father to son, allowed weak and sometimes incompetent figures to take power. In order to avoid the succession of weak rulers, certain political figures promoted their own candidates for the positions, regardless of the legitimate naming of a successor. Baha’ al-Din and Salah al-Din fall into this category.

They believed that Mas’ud did not have the necessary qualities to govern effectively and chose another to take his lands instead. The recommendation from these two figures displays a confidence in Zengi’s abilities, which Ibn al-Azraq ignores throughout his chronicle. Ibn al-Azraq and Ibn al-Athir differ in their interpretations of the reasoning behind Baha’ al-Din and Ṣalah al-Din’s support of Zengi. Whether Baha’ al-Din and

Ṣalah al-Din wanted Zengi to defend their lands from the Franks, avoid potential poor leadership, or develop their own political careers, both chroniclers show that they understood Zengi’s strength and growing power in the area.

Ibn al-Azraq also mentions that Baha’ al-Din and Ṣalah al-Din swore an oath of fealty to Zengi.245 In return for their support, Zengi promised Baha’ al-Din the position of

Qadi of Mosul and control over the city’s religious matters. Salah al-Din became hajib, a

244Ibn al-Azraq, A Muslim Principality, 52.

245Ibid.

73 figure whose acted as an “intermediary between the ruler and his government.”246

Mottahedeh, as discussed, believes that oaths represented “the explicit and formal vehicle by which one man committed himself to another.”247 As these figures did not hold tremendous power themselves, they understood the importance of oaths of loyalty with prominent figures in the Saljuq political system. Zengi also understood the importance of oaths and demonstrates his understanding this throughout his career. The enactment of these oaths also shows Zengi’s growth in power as he now received these declarations of loyalty from figures below him in order to bolster his support group and establish his own government, allowing Zengi to move closer to becoming an autonomous entity.

Zengi continued to establish himself, taking various lands throughout the area that would benefit his long-term goals. Zengi took Nisibis (located in modern day ) from Husam al-Din Timurtash, an Artuqid amir.248 Zengi’s relationships with the

Artuqids proved important to Zengi’s later career, yet these figures did not play a major role at this point. It is crucial to note, however, that upon Zengi’s establishment as a key political player, he immediately began to consolidate his holdings, expand his power in the areas surrounding Mosul, and enter into oaths with figures with similar power. All three of the major chroniclers of the period begin to discuss Zengi’s involvement in the

Saljuq political and military world during this period. In fact, this event coincides with

Ibn al-Qalanisi’s first mention of Zengi. Ibn al-Azraq also begins to discuss Zengi in a more complete fashion as well, further showing his growing importance in the political

246Ibid., 53.

247Mottahedeh, Loyalty and Leadership, 42.

248Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, 267-69.

74 system. During this period, Zengi developed his power base successfully. This period formed the foundation for the remainder of his career.

After Zengi had officially established a base of power in Mosul, he shifted his attention to increasing and maintaining his power. Zengi spent the next seven years, 522-

530/1128-1136, strengthening his power and continuing to develop his lands. In

522/1128, Zengi took the city of Aleppo.249 Before Zengi’s taking of the city, the people of Aleppo fell into a state of chaos following the death of Masʽud b. al-Bursuqi, who had taken the city after his father’s death. The amir Qutlugh-Aba attempted to take power once Masʽud died and initially was successful. News of his “tyranny and wickedness,” however, spread to the people of Aleppo, who rioted against Qutlugh-Aba, ousting the amir.250 Because of the fighting within the city, Frankish forces in the area attempted to take the city. While they defended the city, the problem of rulership still afflicted the

Aleppans. Upon hearing of his journey to Mosul, the people of Aleppo reached out to

Zengi, who then journeyed to the city. Upon his arrival, the Aleppans “came out to welcome him and were delighted at his coming.”251 Zengi then took the city and

“organized its affairs.”252 While there is no specific evidence indicating why Zengi chose to divert his attention to helping Aleppo, Zengi’s taking of the city gave him another area of power and a strategic holding that only benefited his cause. This expanded Zengi’s

249Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, 272-73.

250Ibid., 272.

251Ibid., 273.

252Ibid.

75 major holdings and he developed his power further through expanding his autonomous realm.

The city of Aleppo represented an important city to the Saljuq Empire. H. A. R

Gibb discusses the importance of the city, arguing that Aleppo represented “the point of balance” between the Muslims and the Crusaders, as the city represented the middle ground between the two groups.253 Gibb also notes that al-Bursuqi understood this and saw it “as a means by which to establish an independent and hereditary principality” an idea that, according to Gibb, reflected Zengi’s thinking as well. 254 This sheds more light onto Zengi’s decision to take the city as a strategic maneuver instead of trying to assist the troubled Allepines. Gibb also notes that because of the constant fighting between the

Franks and the Muslims, the citizens of Aleppo had grown dismissive of those who governed them. The people of Aleppo demonstrated the desire for new leadership, and

Zengi not only understood this but also understood the importance for holding Aleppo.255

Aqsunqur’s impact on the city also benefited his son Zengi as “the respect in which the

Allepines had held Aqsunqur stood his son in good stead.”256

For Zengi to take the city, he needed to appeal to the people of Aleppo.

Hillenbrand argues that rulers in Syria, “both Muslim and Frank, were accustomed to making common cause in the face of an external threat to their own autonomy.”257 Zengi

253 Gibb, “Zengi and the Fall of Edessa,” 449.

254Ibid., 453.

255 Ibid., 452.

256Alptekin, “The Career of Zangi,” 31.

257Hillenbrand, “Abominable Acts,” 114.

76 exploited this fact in the next year by purposefully fighting the Franks and taking the city of al-Atharib (in modern day Syria) in order to not only solidify his presence in the areas surrounding Aleppo but also to weaken the Franks.258 These events show that Zengi not only understood the politics of the day but also was well aware of what it would take in order to continue to develop his military position in an effective manner.

In this same year that Zengi took Aleppo, he also interacted with the various leaders in Damascus, an area that held importance to Zengi.259 In 524/1129-1130, Zengi approached the ruler of Damascus, Taj al-Muluk Buri and asked for his assistance in jihad.260 According to the chroniclers, this represents the first time that Zengi called for

“holy war.”261 Buri agreed to help him and sent men and his son, Savinj, to assist Zengi.

A few days after the arrival of Buri’s men and son, Zengi proceeded to arrest Savinj and the remaining forces of Taj al-Muluk. Zengi then took the cities of and , both located in between Damascus to the south and Aleppo to the north.262

Zengi moved into these places in order to cement his own military base. By this point in his career, Zengi had established a position for himself in Baghdad, Aleppo, and

Mosul, building military power in all three of these areas. Not only did the city of Homs and Hama help expand his base of power around Aleppo, it weakened Taj al-Muluk.

Because of Zengi’s exploits in the area, Taj al-Muluk lost a number of his amirs, soldiers

258Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, 282.

259 Zengi attempted to take Damascus in 529/1134-1135, 533/1138-1139, and twice in 534/1139- 1140. These events proved crucial to Zengi’s career and their importance will receive discussion throughout the remainder of this analysis.

260Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, 279; Ibn al-Qalanisi, The Damascus Chronicle, 200.

261The religiosity of this call will receive examination throughout the remainder of the work.

262Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of the Ibn al-Athir, 279. 77 and even his own son to Zengi. His manipulation of Taj al-Muluk Buri was not the first occurrence of Zengi’s deception.

Between the years 516/1122-1123 and 524/1129-1130, Zengi had forged and broken relationships with a number of figures. Because of his devotion to his own cause,

Zengi turned his back on al-Bursuqi once the opportunity presented itself. He made a strong impression on sultan Mahmud, resulting in his subsequent appointments to positions of power. Yet his support of the sultan changed during the years that followed as various figures who came to power offered Zengi more opportunities to continue his attempts at autonomy. In the years following 524/1129-30, Zengi witnessed a resounding change in higher leadership that would leave him in a position of strength, able to support whomever he chose based on their ability to assist his cause.

The year 525/1130-31 showed Zengi’s inclination towards altering relationships in order to promote his own cause. Zengi’s connection with Dubays represents these shifting allegiances. Prior to 525/1130-31, Zengi operated against Dubays multiple times.263 In this year, however, Zengi received word of Dubays’ capture in Damascus by

Taj al-Muluk. Zengi sent word to Taj al-Muluk asking to take Dubays under his jurisdiction.264 After some negotiations, Zengi convinced Taj al-Muluk to hand Dubays over to him in exchange for the prisoners, including Taj al-Muluk’s son Savinj, which

Zengi took a year earlier.265 Ibn al-Athir notes that Zengi treated Dubays “quite

263Zengi fought against Dubays in 512/1118-1119, when Dubays went to battle with Prince Mas’ud and again in 517/1123-1124 when Dubays went to war with caliph al-Mustarshid.

264Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, 287.

265Ibid., Ibn al-Qalanisi, The Damascus Chronicle, 204-5. In Ibn al-Qalanisi’s account, the amirs, soldiers, and Savinj, represent the prisoners that Zengi promised in exchange for Dubays. Ibn al-Athir notes 78 differently from what he expected.”266 Zengi’s conduct towards Dubays represents a drastic shift from their earlier altercations, in which he opposed Dubays on the battlefield.

Instead of treating Dubays as an enemy, he welcomed him into his entourage and worked with him instead of against him, as he held potential for Zengi to advance his own claims.

Zengi understood the opportunity to gain an upper hand over an enemy but also saw this as an attempt to form a potentially helpful alliance.

Zengi’s interactions with the Caliphate continued following his time in Damascus.

In the same year, al-Mustarshid sent emissaries to take Dubays from Zengi. According to

Ibn al-Qalanisi, Zengi not only refused to hand over Dubays, he also killed al-

Mustarshid’s men. 267 While this appears as a deliberate attempt to slander Zengi by Ibn al-Qalanisi, as there is no mention of Zengi or his entourage harming the caliph’s men within Ibn al-Athir’s account, Zengi did not adhere to the caliph’s demands. Zengi had refused to hand Dubays to the caliph, but, according to Ibn al-Azraq, sultan Sanjar asked

Zengi to release Dubays to sultan Mas’ud, a request Zengi chose to accept.268

The decision to obey the commands of Sanjar and not al-Mustarshid provides insight into Zengi’s mind. He understood that the power of sultan Sanjar’s still overshadowed the Caliphate, despite the apparent revival of power of the Abbasids. 269

that Taj al-Muluk and Zengi had agreed to a payment of 50000 dinars for the release of these prisoners, although the agreement never came to fruition.

266Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, 287.

267Ibn al-Qalanisi, The Damascus Chronicle, 206.

268Ibn al-Azraq, A Muslim Principality, 59-60.

269It was not until after Zengi’s life that, according to Siddiqi, “the caliphs were able to create a small independent state from themselves, in which they enjoyed not only religious authority, but also held temporal sovereignty.” Siddiqi, “Caliphate and Kingship,” 46. Hanne also notes that the Caliphate, while 79

The power and autonomy Zengi had already acquired, however, still did not compare to the power Sanjar held. Lambton discusses the inner workings of sultan Sanjar’s government, as well as his attempts “to retain, or reimpose, its control.”270 Lambton argues that, despite his success in establishing his own government alongside the Western

Saljuq Empire, Sanjar experienced similar issues as his Western counterparts as he lacked a system to provide checks on his administration.271 While her work focuses on Sanjar’s empire specifically, Lambton shows that Sanjar had similar issues regarding the growing power of atabegs and amirs. Despite these problems, Sanjar still held power over the remainder of his family in Iraq. The inner workings of Sanjar’s empire helps to explain

Zengi’s mindset and the political structure of the empire under which Zengi worked.

While there is no evidence from the chroniclers, Zengi’s adherence to Sanjar shows his desire to gain the support of one of the most powerful Saljuq officials.

Within both the Eastern and Western portions of the Saljuq Empire, both the amirs and atabegs had a tumultuous relationship with the Sultanate. The amirs and atabegs had to be wary of the fact that the sultans did not have to protect their positions based on any specific law. While they did, in fact, abide by Islamic law, there is, according to Lambton, no evidence that they actually needed to obey its practices.272

Amirs could be replaced quickly and might lose their base of power. This affected

Zengi’s thinking in the long run and forced him to not only continue to appease the

still a major player in the political system, still was “weak in comparison to other military entities.” Hanne, Putting the Caliph, 21.

270 Lambton, “The Administration of Sanjar’s Empire as Illustrated in the ‘Atabat al-kataba,” in Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London, vol. 20 (1957): 368.

271 Ibid., 369.

272 Lambton, “The Administration of Sanjar’s Empire,” 372. 80 various lords he chose to work for, but also to keep in contact with the other powers in order to promote his own self interests.273 Zengi’s exploits demonstrated an understanding of the power of the Caliphate, which still had a weakened military power at the time.

Lambton’s discussion of the inner workings of the Saljuq Empire shows the numerous issues that that plagued the governmental system in both the Eastern and

Western Saljuq lands. The consistent issue, however, stemmed from the decision on who succeeded the sultan. In 525/1130-1131, sultan Mahmud died, causing fighting between son Da’ud and brother Mas’ud.274 Both figures wanted to become the new sultan and have their name recited in the khutbah, but al-Mustarshid, instead of making the decision to include a name in the khutbah without any consent, deferred to Sanjar, giving the sultan the opportunity to choose Mahmud’s successor. This also shows al-Mustarshid’s understanding of his own power in relation to the Saljuqs, as he still deferred to Sanjar despite the caliph’s increased role in the politics of the day.275 Mas’ud, wanting the throne, appealed to Zengi for assistance against his nephew, Da’ud.276 Because of his previous alliance with sultan Mahmud, Zengi’s alliance with Mas’ud shows a shift from his prior commitments. Zengi previously supported Mahmud, which dictated that Zengi support Daʽud’s bid for the Sultanate, who had his name recited in the khutbah

273Ibid.

274Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, 287.

275Ibid., 291-92; Hanne, “Ritual and Reality,” 152.

276Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, 291-92.

81 immediately after his father’s death.277 Instead, however, Zengi chose to support

Mas’ud’s claim to the Sultanate, changing his original alliances as he saw fit, in an attempt to gain the favor of the sultan. Zengi’s choice, however, hurt his cause, as his forces were defeated and Zengi had to retreat to save the remainder of his army.278

Sanjar arrived in Baghdad to make the announcement of Da’ud in the khutbah official in 526/1131-1132. Zengi was also in Baghdad at the time, and Sanjar instructed him to take Baghdad from the caliph, who was out of the city attempting to ward off the forces of Mas’ud.279 Working with Sanjar in this instance shows that, once again, Zengi abandoned the caliph in order to stay in the good graces of another, more powerful, figure. Within a short amount of time, Zengi worked under two very different leaders.

Zengi chose to support Mas’ud instead of Da’ud. Despite this decision, Zengi still adhered to Sanjar’s request, which ultimately forced him to take a stance against Mas’ud.

These kinds of shifts were not uncommon. Political figures in this period, despite their issues with one another, still held respect for Sanjar, the Saljuq family’s senior member, and held true to their oaths with him by obeying his commands.280 Through this event,

Zengi demonstrated a strong understanding of both the necessity of keeping his oath with

Sanjar as well as “the necessity for creating and maintaining a stable base of support.”281

The period following the death of sultan Mahmud shows that Zengi altered his plan of

277Ibid., 288.

278Ibid.

279Ibid., 293.

280Hanne, “Ritual and Reality,”156.

281Ibid., 157.

82 action, changing from expansion in order to defend the lands that he had already acquired. Zengi had acquired substantial tracks of land and military power and began to focus on building these up, demonstrated through his shifting alliances with various lords.

The chroniclers are quiet about Zengi during the year 527/1132-1133. They do not discuss his exploits in particular, yet they cover events that occurred within Zengi’s lands. During this year, Zengi’s governor in Aleppo, Sawar, defended the city from the

Frankish forces in the area.282 Also in this year, around 20 Ramadan/ 25 July, al-

Mustarshid attempted to demonstrate his power against Zengi by attacking Mosul

“because of the previous attack on Baghdad” by the atabeg.283 Interestingly, according to

Ibn al-Athir, various amirs joined the ranks of al-Mustarshid perhaps in an attempt to weaken Zengi, who had become a powerful adversary. While the force proved formidable, the attack on Mosul was unsuccessful and the caliph retired to Baghdad.284

By Shawwal 527/August 1133, Zengi lost the city of Hama to his rival in Damascus, Taj al-Muluk.285 Despite the chronicler’s lack of coverage, these events left a lasting impact on Zengi’s career as it further tarnished the relations between the caliph and the sultan through their fighting with one another, forcing Zengi to choose sides throughout the remainder of his career.

282 Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, 301; Ibn al-Qalanisi, The Damascus Chronicle, 222.

283Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, 301.

284Ibid., 301. Ibn al-Azraq, A Muslim Principality, 64. While Ibn al-Azraq does not go into detail in regards to the attack on Mosul, Hillenbrand acknowledges this event throughout her footnotes. She notes that Zengi, in fact, had returned to defend his lands from the caliph, while Ibn al-Athir does not mention his involvement. See footnote eighty-eight.

285Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, 302.

83

The remainder of Zengi’s career centers on the various relationships he had with the multitude of political factions in his military holdings. The Artuqids represented an important group that held influence in northern Syria and developed an interesting relationship with Zengi. In response to attacks against Zengi’s holdings in Mosul and

Aleppo, Zengi prepared to attack the Artuqid amir Da’ud “who had assisted the caliph in his siege of Mosul.”286 In response to this, Da’ud, for the sake of his own position, tried to reconcile his relationship with Zengi, giving him troops to use in his future endeavors.287 No evidence exists to show why Da’ud attempted to establish a positive relationship with Zengi, but, according to Alptekin, “it may have been that Da’ud realized he could not afford to alienate Zengi as his own forces were insufficient to enable him to make the challenge” against him.288 Whatever the cause, this alliance proved useful for

Zengi’s purposes and provided him with a number of troops that he used to advance his plans throughout the remainder of his military career. The Da’ud-Zengi alliance collapsed quickly in 1131/528, however, as Zengi engaged in battle with him despite his sending troops. Alptekin notes that Daʽud had desired his own independence from Zengi while he was campaigning in Syria. Zengi heard of this and, although he renewed the relationship between himself and Da’ud, Zengi defeated Daʽud and ended his political relationship with him.289

286Alptekin, “The Reign of Zangi,” 131.

287Alptekin notes that Da’ud sent his son, Wara-Arslan, and a number of troops to assist in Zengi’s campaigns against the Byzantines. This event does not take place until 532/1137-1138, yet it is crucial to the understanding of the shifting alliances between the Artuqids and Zengi. Ibid., 133.

288Ibid.

289Alptekin, “The Reign of Zangi,” 133-34.

84

Another major figure within the Artuqid group, Timurtash, did not approve of the earlier alliance between Da’ud and Zengi. Timurtash understood that he did not have the power to defeat or establish himself separately from Zengi and in order to protect his own interests, “sought peaceful negotiations with him.”290 Ibn al-Qalanisi and Ibn al-Azraq both note that these figures had begun to work together, and in 528/1133-1134 Zengi, along with Timurtash, took the city of Amid. 291 Hillenbrand notes that because of Ibn al-

Azraq’s pro-Artuqid stance, he does not address the fact that Timurtash became a

“vassal” of Zengi and received the citadel of al-Sur (located in upper ) in exchange for his support.292 Zengi’s conferment of al-Sur to Timurtash demonstrates that

Zengi respected the power of the Artuqid forces and of a potential ally he could use to advance his career.

Following his interactions with the Artuqids, Zengi’s relations with the rulers of

Damascus came to the forefront in 529/1134-1135. Ibn al-Qalanisi notes that Zengi had been preparing for an attack on Damascus during his siege of al-Sur.293 Zengi’s relationship with the Damascenes had been strained earlier in his career through his manipulation of Taj al-Muluk and Zengi’s capture of his son Savinj. Shams al-Muluk

290Ibid. In her article, “The History of the Jazira,” Carole Hillenbrand discusses the role of the Jazira in the Saljuq period, discussing the various groups that ruled this area specifically focusing on the Artuqids and the Zengids. Hillenbrand notes that Zengi was “always Timurtash’s military and political superior,” which could have caused the change in the relationship between the two. Carole Hillenbrand, “The History of the Jazira, 1100-1250: A Short Introduction,” in The Art of Syria and the Jazira 1100- 1250, ed. J. Raby (London: Oxford University Press, 1985), 10.

291Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, 306.

292Ibn al-Azraq, A Muslim Principality, 83. Ibn al-Azraq notes that Timurtash had worked with Zengi to take this citadel of al-Sur. His inability to state that he had become a vassal potentially stems from the Artuqids opinions against Zengi.

293Ibn al-Qalanisi, The Damascus Chronicle, 227-28.

85 became the ruler of Damascus after Taj al-Muluk’s death, but demonstrated a lack of desire to rule the city. Shams al-Muluk wrote to Zengi asking him to hurry to Damascus so that he could take the city. The Damascenes however, discovered this appeal and immediately removed Shams al-Muluk from power and began to prepare to halt Zengi’s approach.294 As Zengi approached, a number of the amirs who still held power in the territory around Damascus received Zengi’s troops and informed them that he could not take the city. Zengi did not believe this and prepared to lay siege to the city. Regardless of these preparations, Zengi never attacked Damascus. The caliph al-Mustarshid asked him to come to Iraq, in order to take control of Damascus, also promising to mention the name of his prince, Alp Arslan b. Mahmud, in the khutbah.295 Upon learning of this,

Zengi abandoned his siege and made his way to Iraq.

Zengi’s abandonment of Damascus represents a change in his overall plans. Al-

Mustarshid’s bribe of giving Zengi’s prince, Alp Arslan b. Mahmud, power through the inclusion of his name in the khutbah provided enough of a reason for Zengi to leave the city in order to achieve a larger goal. While this is mentioned in conjunction with Zengi’s later career, Ibn al-Athir mentions Zengi’s changing plans, stating that he waited for sultan Masud to die so that he could “proclaim Alp Arslan b. Mahmud sultan in the khutbah and to conquer the lands in his name.”296 This caused Zengi to abandon his siege of Damascus. Zengi attempted to take the city multiple times during his career, but the

294Ibid., 229-33.

295Ibid. 233. Sutlan Mahmud charged Zengi with watching over his son once he had received the title of atabeg in 520/1126-1127.

296Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, 374.

86 overall goal of taking the Sultanate in order to establish his own autonomous holding held more importance to the Zengi throughout the final years of his career.

In the same year, 529/1134-1135, al-Mustarshid died.297 After his death, the people of Baghdad immediately recognized al-Rashid, al-Mustarshid’s son, as the new caliph.298 Al-Rashid caused turmoil for the various Saljuq lords in the area. Sultan

Mas’ud opposed the idea of al-Rashid as caliph because he feared that al-Rashid was

“thinking of rebellion just as his father did.”299 According to Ibn al-Azraq, Mas’ud made his worries about al-Rashid, the public’s perception of his rule, and his particular preference for the new caliph clear:

People are saying ‘They [the Saljuqs] killed the caliph even though it was they who caused [the dignity of] the Caliphate to be restored to this family.’ I want someone on the throne who will meddle in nothing but religious matters, who will not raise an army, take up [arms] or assemble [men] and who will rebel neither against me not the members of my family.300

Mas’ud demonstrated clear foresight through this passage. The caliph was, in fact, already in the planning stations of a revolt and had asked for Zengi’s assistance in the matter.301

297Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, 318; Ibn al-Azraq, A Muslim Principality, 69; Alptekin, “The Reign of Zangi,” 66. Ibn al-Azraq states in his discussion of the murder of al-Mustarshid that Mas’ud sent the murders after receiving the permission to do so from Sanjar.

298Ibn al-Azraq, A Muslim Principality, 69.

299Ibid., 72-73.

300Ibid.

301Ibid., 76. Al-Rashid had begun to prepare for war upon sultan Mas’ud’s asking for the money that al-Mustarshid had promised to pay him. Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, 324; Hanne, Putting the Caliph, 166

87

After he had become caliph, al-Rashid sent to Zengi and asked him for his assistance against the sultan, “giving him a guarantee that al-Malik Alp Arslan b.

Mahmud who was with the atabeg should become sultan and that Zengi would be in charge of the atabegate and the Caliphate.”302 The “atabeg” in this quote refers to Zengi who desired to see this plan in action as it gave him the opportunity to develop his own power fully and completely by deposing Alp Arslan once he became sultan.303 In order to achieve this, however, Zengi still needed to establish himself as completely independent within the Saljuq Empire. Al-Rashid understood that Zengi held a tremendous amount of military power and influence, and his alliance provided assistance for Zengi in his revolt against the Saljuqs. These figures, along with Prince Da’ud, took an oath binding the agreement among them.304 As discussed, oaths comprised a level of loyalty that bound figures together on a social and religious plane. The oath between Zengi, the caliph, and

Prince Da’ud provided yet another set of relationships Zengi needed to further his position.

Zengi’s allegiance with the caliph and Prince Da’ud displays another shift in his military alignment, although the sources do not provide any reason for Zengi’s change of heart. It is possible, however, to piece together the various ways this revolt could benefit

Zengi and show that the revolt held positive ramifications for Zengi’s career. Allying

302 Ibid; Alptekin, “The Reign of Zangi,” 68.

303Ibn al-Azraq labels this as Zengi’s motive for his changing relationships as well, Ibn al-Azraq, A Muslim Principality, 76.

304Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, 325. The chronicler’s do not go into much detail in regards to the taking of this oath. Despite this, however, the oath proved important as it represented a binding loyalty between the caliph and Zengi. For more on the lack of coverage of oaths by the sources, see Hanne, “Ritual and Reality.”

88 himself with Prince Da’ud and al-Rashid shows that Zengi believed that these figures held greater benefit for him than sultan Mas’ud or even Sanjar. The potential spoils from this revolt also helped persuade Zengi to agree to this cause, as a victory could have led to the defeat of a powerful adversary in Sanjar. Zengi recognized the growing power of the Caliphate and saw the Abbasids as a potential ally, holding the same goals for establishing independence that Zengi himself held. Zengi demonstrated his respect for the

Caliphate by attending the funeral for al-Mustarshid, a figure with whom Zengi did not have harmonious relations.305 The relationships that Zengi entered into changed throughout his career, but all of Zengi’s actions still hinged on the concept of developing his own autonomy. Zengi’s shifting allegiance represented the various attempts at establishing this independence by whatever means possible. Zengi’s plans, however, did not come to fruition as the attempted revolt failed quickly. Upon the sultan’s arrival in

Baghdad, both Zengi and al-Rashid fled to Mosul.306 Sultan Mas’ud removed al-Rashid from power and established al-Muqtafi as caliph.307

Al-Rashid’s revolt was unsuccessful, and Zengi failed to promote his cause. Zengi was still strong, however, which the sultan and the newly appointed caliph, al-Muqtafi, recognized. Ibn al-Athir notes that Mas’ud kept his forces with him in order to defend himself from Zengi.308 The newly appointed caliph, al-Muqtafi, also understood Zengi’s power and proceeded to develop a good relationship with the atabeg by giving him

305Ibn al-Azraq, A Muslim Principality, 72.

306Ibid., 77.

307Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, 330.

308Ibid., 335.

89 portions of his own estate as well as “further titles.”309 Zengi’s relationship with the newly appointed caliph led to the expulsion of al-Rashid from Zengi’s lands, as the recently deposed caliph journeyed with Zengi to Mosul following his defeat.310 Al-Rashid had lost power and because of this, lost Zengi’s support. The renewed peace between al-

Muqtafi and Zengi allowed him to turn his attention east in order to reclaim lost lands and to continue to work towards the incorporation of Damascus into his base of power.

Following the revolt of al-Rashid, Zengi returned to Damascus and made multiple attempts at conquering the city. During Muharram 532/September 19-October 18, 1137,

Zengi reclaimed Homs. Interestingly, Zengi then sent word to the ruler of Damascus,

Shihab al-Din, asking for the hand of his mother, Lady Zumurrud, in marriage. Ibn al-

Athir notes that Zengi “was only motivated to marry her because he saw that she had a dominant influence in Damascus and he thought that by uniting himself to her he would take control of that city.”311 The two wed and Lady Zumurrud joined Zengi in

532/1138.312 This marriage gave Zengi a stronger holding in Damascus and functioned as his claim to control the city.

Zengi had officially established a legitimate claim to Damascus. Other issues, however, forced Zengi to alter his plan of action, placing importance of protecting his own lands ahead of the taking of Damascus. In 532/1138, the Byzantine Emperor, John

Kommnenos II, began to attack Shayzar (in modern day Syria), causing the Allepans to

309Ibid., 330. Ibn al-Athir does not specifically mention which titles that Zengi receives.

310Ibid., 335. Ibn al-Athir notes that sultan Mas’ud allowed his forces to disperse upon learning of the caliph’s departure from Zengi.

311Ibid., 339.

312Ibid.

90 appeal to Zengi for assistance. Zengi agreed and prepared to provide what he could to defend his lands from the Byzantine invaders. Zengi returned from Homs and recognized the disparity between his forces and the Byzantine army.313 Knowing that he did not have the men to defeat the Emperor, Zengi attempted to trick the Byzantines into retreating. He appealed to the Emperor and stated “Come down to the open country where we may meet. If I defeat you, then I shall have saved the Muslims from you, but if you are victorious, you may relax and take Shayzar and other places.”314 John Kommnenos II, upon receipt of this message, ceased his invasion, believing Zengi’s statements.315

Although Zengi succeeded in stopping the Byzantine invasions, his motives require examination.

Zengi’s expulsion of the Byzantine forces acted as a ruse, hiding his underlying reasoning for his involvement. Superficially, it would seem that Zengi took it upon himself to defend Muslims from an invading force in order to save the population from defeat and destruction. In reality, however, the success of the Byzantines would have been detrimental to Zengi’s overall agenda. Zengi had succeeded in establishing an effective base of power in Aleppo and losing the city to the Byzantines would have devastated Zengi’s political and economic structure. Despite scholars and poets praising him for his success in the defense of Islam, Zengi defeated the Byzantine forces in order

313Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, 340.

314Ibid., 340.

315Ibn al-Athir notes that Zengi did not “have the strength to meet them. He only tried to frighten them with these and similar words.” Ibid. Ibn al-Azraq addresses this event, but in a rather simplistic manner, as it did not truly have an impact on the Artuqid world. Ibn al-Azraq, A Muslim Principality, 95. Ibn al-Azraq addresses this event, but in a rather simplistic manner, as it did not truly have an impact on the Artuqid world. Ibn al-Qalanisi does mention the event, however, noting that Zengi provided “zealous efforts” against the Byzantines. Ibn al-Qalanisi, The Damascus Chronicle, 249. Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, 341.

91 to defend his own lands from invasion and to ward off a definite and powerful threat to his lands.316

Alptekin notes that after the Byzantines retreated from the battlefield, Zengi had the opportunity to take the lands they had occupied.317 Instead, however, Zengi left the area, returning to Damascus to try and take the city. During the next few years, Zengi focused solely on taking Damascus. In 533/1138-1139, the ruler of Damascus, Shihab al-

Din, was murdered. Zengi’s wife, Zumurrud Khatun, urged Zengi to take (in modern day Lebanon) and move into the surrounding areas, which Zengi did immediately.318 Zengi’s actions in Baalbek, however, complicated his plans, as the

Damascus leadership was prepared to stop him because of his recent actions there.319

While it is impossible to say for certain, Zengi saw Damascus as his legitimate right, as the marriage to Lady Zurrund gave Zengi the chance to rule the city. In the next year,

533/1139-1140, Zengi moved into Damascus territory and sent an emissary to the

Damascene leadership, offering a number of the territories he had acquired in exchange for the city.320 Muʽin al-Din Unur, the new leader of Damascus, recognized the threat that

Zengi posed and chose to deny his request, also appealing to the Franks in an attempt to

316Ibn al-Qalanisi notes that Zengi provided “zealous efforts” against the Byzantines. Ibn al- Qalanisi, The Damascus Chronicle, 249. Ibn al-Athir notes that the poet al-Muslim ibn Khiḍr ibn Qusaym al-Ḥaamawi praised Zengi’s efforts against the Byzantine forces. Al-Ḥaamawi refers to Zengi as “a gleam of light in the dust of battle, burning bright,” while referring to the Byzantine emperor as “an accursed devil.” Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, 342.

317Alptekin, “The Reign of Zangi,” 98.

318 Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, 348.

319Alptekin, “The Reign of Zangi,” 102.

320Ibn al-Athir notes that Zengi offered Baalbek, Homs and “other places that he might choose.” Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, 353.

92 bolster the defenses against Zengi.321 This alliance forced Zengi to retreat and end his attempts at the city. He returned to the city in the same year, but this attempt proved futile, as the Damascenes defended their city and Zengi retreated quickly.322

Although Zengi failed to take Damascus, Hillenbrand notes that the Damascenes still recited Zengi’s name in the khutbah.323 As mentioned previously, the recitation of a figure’s name in the khutbah served as a form of legitimation of authority within the

Islamic world. It implies that this figure, Zengi in this case, had achieved both secular and religious legitimacy in Damascus. While the khutbah in Damascus may not hold the same weight as those said for sultans, this shows that the people still recognized Zengi as a preeminent power in the area. Zengi failed at taking the city of Damascus militarily, but he succeeded in manipulating various situations throughout his career to achieve full authority within a crucial territory in the Saljuq Empire, following a trend established years before his birth. Zengi’s name received mention in the khutbah in al-Haditha in

536/1141-1142 as well, which added religious legitimacy to his position. The announcement of Zengi’s name in the khutbah shows that Zengi had continued to develop his independence from the Saljuqs.

The chroniclers do not cover the years between Zengi’s attempts at Damascus and his successful siege in Edessa. In 538/1143-1144, Zengi engaged sultan Mas’ud again as the sultan sought revenge for al-Rashid’s revolt. In an attempt to avoid an altercation,

Zengi offered to pay 100,000 dinars to the sultan. The sultan, however, saw how well

321Ibid.

322Ibid. Ibn al-Qalanisi, The Damascus Chronicle, 256-62.

323Ibn al-Azraq, A Muslim Principality, 100.

93 defended Zengi’s lands were and sued the atabeg for peace instead of invading.324 Zengi, throughout his career, succeeded in acquiring and asserting his own power to the extent that the sultan feared for his own troops in a battle with Zengi. This event represents the culmination of Zengi’s efforts. By this point in his military career, Zengi’s strength forced the sultan to ask Zengi for peace instead of attacking him directly. This “victory” was a clear sign of how Zengi had succeeded in establishing relative independence from the Saljuqs.

Zengi’s career reached its famous peak after following his engagement with the sultan. He continued his military exploits throughout northern Syria and continued to use his methods of manipulation to continue developing his power. While Zengi’s fame stems from the actions that took place in the later portion of his career, he would not have been successful if he had not navigated the difficulties of the Saljuq governmental system earlier on. Through the early years of his military exploits, Zengi needed to legitimize his own power and his position within the Islamic world. After he had received political positions, he needed to bolster his holdings in order to keep extending his power. Zengi exploited political relationships with the Saljuqs, the Abbasids, the Artuqids, and various other figures in order to advance his own agenda. No matter who he worked for throughout his career, he always held to his own goal of establishing his own autonomous land holdings separate from the Saljuq Empire, evidenced through the reasoning behind his manipulation of his political relationships. Zengi’s career reached its peak in

538/1144, through his conquest of Edessa. Zengi had succeeded in establishing himself as

324Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, 368. 94 an independent entity. Yet, in order to legitimize his power and authority, he needed to establish legitimacy in a religious fashion.

95

CHAPTER III: IDEOLOGICAL MANIPULATION

In order for a ruler to keep the power he possessed, he needed to appeal to the common people outside of the positions of power. Through the manipulation of the ideological practices, rulers such as Zengi, successfully appealed to these people and earned their support. The chroniclers state that Zengi called for jihad multiple times during his career. Because of these actions, Zengi received praise for his role as a shahid and a mujahid by the chroniclers and poets who wrote on his actions. These calls, however, functioned as a method of convincing the population of the legitimacy of his rule and acted as a way to deceive his enemies. In order to understand the way Zengi manipulated this call, a survey of jihad from its conception through the Crusading period is in order. To that end, Zengi’s actions will be examined with the intention of showing how his calls for “holy war” functioned as a tool used to manipulate and deceive rather than a solely pious action.

Zengi spent the majority of his career exploiting political relationships in order to advance his own goals. His efforts culminated in the establishment of a base of power that caused the Sultanate to consider Zengi a threat. His controlling of political and military relationships, however, represents only one of the tactics that Zengi used to advance his independence. As mentioned, Zengi also manipulated religious practices in order to coerce people to fight for him and to weaken his opponents. Zengi called for

96

jihad a number of times, most famously at Edessa.325 Questions surface, however, as to whether or not Zengi was as pious and religious as scholars, poets, and writers, made him out to be. Although depicted as a pious religious man because of his victory at

Edessa, there is no evidence to support the notion that Zengi based his actions on religion. Rather, Zengi desired political power and to continue to advance of his own personal autonomy, using religion as a method to promote his goals.

To understand how Zengi used the religious ideology behind jihad, it is first necessary to determine a basic understanding of the concept. Throughout the last century, western authors have provided a number of different definitions of jihad, basing their meanings off of the literal translation of the word. Emile Tyan believes that the term represents “an effort towards a determined objective.”326 Similarly to Tyan, Mustansir

Mir translates the term jihad to “determined effort” used towards a “struggle.”327 Cook argues that jihad “is ‘striving’ or ‘exerting oneself’…‘with regard to one’s religion.”328

Also, Rudolph Peters, in the same vein as Cook, translates the term as “to strive, to exert oneself, to struggle.”329 Michael Bonner also states that jihad “literally means

‘striving.”330 Patricia Crone, however, differs from this understanding of jihad. Crone

325 Ibn al-Qalanisi, The Damascus Chronicle, 372. For a history of Edessa, see J. B. Seagal, Edessa ‘The Blessed City’ (Oxford, NY: Clarendon Press, 1970).

326Encyclopedia of Islam, s.v. “Djihad,” 539.

327 Mustansir Mir, “Jihad in Islam,” in The Jihad and It’s Times, ed. Hadia Dajani-Shakeel and Ronald A. Messier (Ann Arbor, MI: University of Michigan Press), 113.

328David Cook, Understanding Jihad, (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2005), 1

329Rudolph Peters, “Jihad: An Introduction,” in The Legacy of Jihad, ed. Andrew Bostom (Amherst, NY: Prometheus Press, 2005), 320.

330Michael Bonner, Jihad in Islamic History: Doctrines and Practices (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2006), 2. 97 does not provide an exact definition of the term and associates it with the idea of “holy war” and “fighting in pursuit of aims outside religion.”331 M.J. Kister falls into the same category, comparing the term jihad to Holy War.332 Mottahedeh’s translation represents the understanding of jihad based on the crusading period as he states that it means a “holy war,” specifically “on behalf of Islam.”333 While the meaning varies slightly depending on the translation, the idea of jihad as a struggle represents the common understanding of the term.

Ella Landau-Tasseron’s work on the etymological base of the word provides an accessible translation of the term in its purest form. In her article “Jihad,” Landau-

Tasseron defines jihad as “struggle, or striving, but often understood both within the

Muslim tradition and beyond it as warfare against infidels.”334 Landau-Tasseron broke down the word to its basic root of “j-h-d” which denotes “effort, exhaustion, exertion, strain” and shows that this specific word root occurs in only forty one verses in the

331Patricia Crone, “Jihad’: Idea and History,” Open Democracy, entry posted May 1, 2007, http://www.opendemocracy.net/faith-europe_islam/jihad_4579.jsp [accessed March 12, 2014], 1. Crone provides an interesting comparison on the concept of jihad as she believes it mirrors that of British Imperialism since Muslims used jihad during the establishment of the Islamic Empire. While there are definite similarities between the two, imperialism represents an incorrect comparison since many people living in Islamic lands did not convert to Islam despite their infusion of Islamic elites into the lands conquered by Muslims. Cook dismisses the concept that Christian “holy war,” and Islamic jihad correlate with one another, showing an accurate understanding of the various differences between the two concepts. Cook, Understanding Jihad, 1.

332M. J. Kister, “Land Property and Jihad” in Jihad and Martyrdom: Critical Concepts in Islamic Studies, ed. David Cook (London: Routledge Press, 2010), 39.

333Roy Parviz Mottahedeh and Ridwal al-Sayyid, “The Idea of Jihad in Islam before the Crusades” in The Crusades from the Perspective of Byzantium and the Muslim World, ed. Angeliki E. Laiou and Roy Parviz Mottahedeh (Washington, D.C.: Harvard University Press, 2001), 23.

334Ella Landau-Tasseron, “Jihad,” in Jihad and Martyrdom: Critical Concepts in Islamic Studies, ed. David Cook (London: Routledge, 2010), 5. 98

Qur’an, only ten of which specifically refers to warfare.335 Instead, Landau-Tasseron shows that the root “q-t-l” translating to “kill,” is located in the Qur’an forty-four times, more than triple the amount of the root of jihad.336 Tasseron specifically mentions that the idea of jihad and warfare do not coincide with one another and need separation.337

She does, however, show that there are instances in the Qur’an where the juxtaposition of the two terms occurs, leading to the development of jihad as a war tactic.

The Qur’an includes a number of passages that define Islamic practices and others that describe fighting in the way of God. One such verse provides the basis for a discussion of jihad: “fight the idolaters to the end as they fight you in a like manner.”338

The Qur’an does not specifically mention the term jihad particularly within this passage, but the idea of a “fight” against non-believers permeates throughout. The remainder of the passage, however, hints towards more of a spiritual fight rather than a physical one:

“and remember, God is with those who preserve themselves from evil and do the right.”339 While the first part dictates a physical battle, the second half calls on the remembrance of one’s salvation and the keeping from evil, which forms a basic tenet for

335Ibid.

336Ibid., 8.

337Ibid. Landau-Tasseron gives two reasons as to why these two words are not compatible: “First, jihad is a concept much broader than warfare. Secondly, the doctrine of warfare can be derived from the Qur’an without resorting to the term jihad at all.” Ibid., 5.

338Qur’an 9:36, Ahmed Ali, Al-Qur’an: A Contemporary Translation (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1984), 9:36, 148. The Qur’an contains a number of other verses that contain the idea of fighting. For further exploration, consult Andrew Bostom, The Legacy of Jihad.

339Ibid.

99 all Muslims to follow.340 The term “fight” in the passage also shows the use of the “q-t-l” root as opposed to the “j-h-d” root associated with jihad. The term “strive” appears throughout the work, but hints towards a more spiritualized action: “strive, O Prophet, against the unbelievers and the hypocrites, and deal with them firmly. Their final abode is

Hell.”341 Again, even though this passage suggests a fight against the non-believer, there is still an understanding of the spiritual side of this conflict. The wording of these passages, as Michael Bonner discusses, depicts the idea of striving for God as opposed to fighting in his name.342 This builds to the idea of a “struggle,” or jihad, against non- believers, not necessarily a “fight,” qital, against them, yet opens avenues for manipulation by Muslims wanting divine provision for their combat against the non- believers.

These root words exist in the Qurʼan, but it does not contain a clear answer as to what constitutes a jihad. The idea of jihad as warfare developed through a combination of

Qurʼanic verses as well as the sunna, which is made up of hadith, as well.343 The hadith represents, according to Rudolph Peters, “the second source of Islam,” following the

Qurʼan, as it stems from the words and actions of the prophet Muhammad.344 While the

340Bonner, Jihad in Islamic History, 12.

341Qur’an, 9:73. Ibid., 170

342 Bonner, Jihad in Islamic History, 21. For translated portions of the ḥadith, please see Bostom, The Legacy of Jihad, 136-38.

343 Bonner, Jihad in Islamic History, 22. The sunna represents the “approved standard or practice introduced by the Prophet.” The sunna consists of hadiths, or sayings of the prophet. Encyclopedia of Islam, s.v. “Sunna,” 878-81.

344 Peters, “Introduction” to “The Prophet’s Lessons on Conduct in War: Ḥadiths on Jihad form the Ṣaḥiḥ of Muslim ibn Ḥajjaj” in Jihad in Classical and Modern Islam: A Reader, ed. Rudolph Peters (: Markus Wiener Publishers, 1996):10.

100

Qurʼan provides interpretations regarding the idea of fighting against non-believers, the hadith, instead, contains specific details regarding fighting those who have experienced the call to Islam and refused to accept it. Hadith dealing with the appointment of “leaders of expeditions” charges them with fighting “in the name of Allah and in the way of Allah.

Fight against those who disbelieve in Allah. Make a holy war.”345 This excerpt specifically notes that fighting against the non-believer was necessary and that it specifically constituted a “holy war.” Other hadith discussing warfare contributed to the transformation of jihad from a peaceful inner struggle to physical warfare against those that did not follow the Islamic faith. This understanding allowed for the development of different interpretations of jihad, leading to further issues regarding the correct translation of the word itself.

Through the hadith, the idea of “the propagation of the faith through combat” emerged.346 By waging jihad, Muslims are fighting in God’s name. Through this fight,

Muslims receive recompense for their devotion to the God’s cause. It is through the combination of both the Qur’an and the hadith that an interpretation of jihad developed during the spread of the Islamic faith beginning in the first/seventh century, and potentially appealed to those fighting on behalf of the faith. The Qur’an also emphasizes the concept of recompense in return for engaging in jihad. The concept of meritocracy behind the waging of jihad appealed to two types of Muslims: those who in their piety

345Muslim Ibn Ḥajjaj, “Appointment of Leaders of expeditions by the Imam and His Advice to Them on Etiquettes of War and Related Matters,” 11

346 Bonner, Jihad in Islamic History, 49. Bonner notes that certain themes provided the foundation for the formulation of political and religious doctrine surrounding the idea of jihad. These themes Bonner discusses include, but are not limited to, conduct of warfare, leadership, martyrdom and correct intention, and meritocracy. Ibid., 50-51.

101 strived for nothing more than a perfect life in the eyes of God, and those who desired battle and wanted the spoils that came with war.347 If one were to die on the battlefield while engaging in jihad, one would be a martyr (shahid), journey to heaven, and receive rewards for their protection of Islam. If one did not perish on the battlefield, the spoils of war served as one’s reward.348 The idea of merit came from the Qur’an, and the idea of fighting for God became directly associated with it. This formed a physical and spiritual reason for the waging of jihad, which formed an effective propaganda piece that a skilled and tactful military commander could use.

The interpretation of jihad and the change in its meaning represents an important aspect in the understanding of what the term meant, as it changed during the early Islamic period through the Crusading era. Bonner argues that the “the doctrine of jihad… and the distinctive set of social practices that are associated with it, did not come into existence until considerably late, toward the end of the eighth century.”349 Bonner notes that the definition of jihad changed throughout the course of Islamic history, and that the basic core of jihad practices changed multiple times.350

H. Montgomery Watt provides an interesting look into the early conception of jihad ideology. Watt discusses the concept of the razzia, which translates more accurately

347Bonner, Jihad in Islamic History, 30.

348 Ibid., 30-33. Bonner directly correlates this idea with ideas presented within the Qur’an. He labels this the “grand reward” of engaging in jihad. Ibid., 33.

349Bonner, Jihad in Islamic History, xvi.

350Ibid. Bonner notes that the Muslim scholars charged with explaining the Quran attempted to place each verse within historical context which in turns associates the terms jihad with Muhammad’s initial actions within and Medina. Ibid., 26.

102 to ghazw, as forming the basis of what would later be jihad.351 Ghazw, according to Watt, a “marauding expedition aimed at capturing camels, goats or, less frequently, women from a hostile tribe,” was normative in the pre-Islamic and early Islamic Arabian peninsula.352 Watt argues that “it was essentially from the light-hearted razzia, however, that the Islamic idea and practice of jihad or holy war developed.”353After the Muslims completed the Hijra to Medina, they needed to conduct these raids in order to survive.

These razzias occurred throughout the early Islamic conquests and allowed for the expansion of Islam, sometimes violently against pagans.354 These small raids took on more of a religious connotation throughout the expansion of Islam, as the newly established Islamic state saw itself as “having a universal mission to bring the whole world to confess that ‘there is no deity but God.’”355 While these razzias formed the backbone of early jihad ideology, scholars further established the concept in the second/eighth century.

In his work “Some Observations Concerning the Early Development of Jihad on the Arab-Byzantine Frontier,” Michael Bonner discusses the impact scholars living on the border between the Muslims and Byzantines had on the development of jihad ideology.

Bonner focuses specifically on the works of Abu Ishaq al-Fazari (d. 185/802) and

351Encyclopeida of Islam, s.v. “Ghazw,” 1055.

352H. Montgomery Watt, “Islamic Conceptions of Holy War” in The Holy War, ed. Thomas Patrick Murphy (Columbus: Ohio State University Press, 1976): 141-42. Watt also associates this concept with the nomadic Arab tribes that performed this actions before the coming of Islam.

353Ibid., 142.

354 Ibid., 142-46. Watt notes that the Muslims did not conduct these razzias in order to convert the populations to Islam. This phenomena came as a result as many pagan groups chose to convert instead of allow the raids to continue on to their lands.

355Ibid., 152.

103

‘Abdallah b. al-Mubarak (d. 181/797), both of whom lived on this frontier and both of whom helped to further development of the concept of jihad.356 Using these figures,

Bonner argues that these works differ from earlier ones because of their “indifference to and at least partial rejection of authority of the caliphs in the conduct of war,” while pervious works recognized the caliphal call for jihad. 357 Bonner also shows how the frontier shaped the ways these men wrote on jihad, highlighting themes of

“companionship” as well as “merit, reward, and volunteering.” 358 Mottahedeh notes that these treatises formed the basis for the development of schools of thought on jihad, as well. 359

Rueven Firestone also discusses the importance of the early development of the idea of jihad. In “Disparity and Resolution in the Qur’anic Teachings on War: A

Reevaluation of a Traditional Problem,” he discusses the concept of fighting that is found throughout the Qur’anic verses. Firestone argues that “the Muslim community was comprised of a number of factions with differing positions on fighting and war” and “that the highly aggressive stance adopted by the tradition was the position of a militant faction

356Bonner, “Some Observations Concerning the Early Development of Jihad on the Arab - Byzantine Frontier,” in Studia Islamica, no. 75 (1992): 5-8.

357Ibid. 6.

358Bonner, “Jihad on the Arab Byzantine Frontier,” 7-9. Michael Bonner argues that the Arab- Byzantine Multiple schools of thought, Mottahedeh also discusses the different jihad scholars from the Umayyad period as well and provide interesting information on the transition from defensive to aggressive jihad policies. Mottahedeh, “The Idea of Jihad,” 24-26.

359 Mottahedeh, “The Idea of Jihad,” 25-26. One of these schools of thought, known as the Maliki school, considered whether jihad was an obligation to every Muslim or whether the desire for combat by individual Muslims provided the desire for war. The followers of the Maliki School believed in the concept of aggressive war but, because of the issues with the , was not obligatory. Al-Musannaf believed that jihad should be obligatory but in regards to the frontier against the Byzantines, where the Muslims began to have little success. The final school permeates around the notion of Syrian doctrine which stresses the need for obligated holy war and recognized jihad as a necessity.

104 which won out over less militant groups, each referring to different Qur’anic verses for support.”360 Although both Bonner and Firestone use different sources to come to their conclusions, their works center on the idea that the development of “jihad” took place during the early period of Islamic expansion and that the waging of jihad fell to the people, without the need for the caliph, to call for jihad. Mottahedeh argues that during second/eighth century “certain normative theories of jihad were accepted which continued to have widespread acceptance through and beyond the period of the

Crusades.”361

According to Bonner, Mottahedeh, and Firestone, the concept of jihad transformed into a call to all Muslims to fight wars against non-believers, from the middle of the second/eighth century up until the sixth/twelfth century. In this way, jihad could also develop into a manipulative call utilized by military leaders to encourage troops to join their ranks, through an appeal to their desires both physically and metaphysically. Muslims used the ideas from the sunna and the concept of meritocracy from the Qur’an in order to justify the waging of war against the enemies of Islam.

Hadia Dajani-Shakeel has examined jihad doctrines established throughout the

Crusading period, providing insight into the legal interpretations of jihad established

360Reuven Firestone, “Disparity and Resolution in the Qur’anic Teachings on War: A Reevaluation of a Traditional Problem” in Jihad and Martyrdom: Critical Concepts in Islamic Studies, ed. David Cook (London: Routledge Press, 2010), 15.

361 Mottahedheh, “The Idea of Jihad,” 23. Mottahedeh’s work provide insights into the minds of legal scholars and schools as they attempted to establish a set of laws and guidelines on the waging of jihad and what specifically falls under the concept of Islamic holy war during the eighth century. Mottahedeh also shows how a “divergence of opinion” occurred in the Muslim lands of Syria, the Hijaz, and Western Arabia, using geographic locale to support the developing opinions on jihad legal development which correlates with the similar idea proposed by Bonner both of which truly highlights how geography prompted different versions of jihad. Ibid.

105 during the medieval period.362 Complementing the works of Bonner, Mottahedeh, and

Firestone, Dajani-Shakeel argues against historians who attempt to “undermine the degree of Muslim awareness of the Crusades” asserting that the Muslim forces understood “nature of the Crusades,” because, otherwise, they would have been unable to develop the Counter-Crusade.363 Dajani-Shakeel discussed the development of a counter attack against the Crusaders and addresses how Muslims before and after the First

Crusade perceived the concept of jihad. Her work, which covers the careers of Zengi,

Nur al-Din and Saladin, is necessary to understanding the concept of jihad during the reigns of Nur al-Din and Saladin, but Zengi’s jihad receives little coverage. Despite its lack of focus on Zengi, Dajani-Shakeel’s work provides insight into the mindset of medieval Muslims and their understanding of the Crusading effort.

The twelfth century witnessed a rebirth in jihad practices based on, according to

Dajani-Shakeel, “the classical interpretation of the doctrine.”364 Following the First

Crusade and the fall of Jerusalem, ‘Ali b. Tahir al-Sulami (d.1106) wrote a treatise

362 Hadia Dajani-Shakeel, “A Reassessment of some Medieval and Modern Perceptions of the Counter Crusade,” in The Jihad and it’s Times, ed. Hadia Dajani-Shakeel and Ronald A. Messier (Ann Arbor, MI: University of Michigan Press) 41-70. In a work compiled by the University of Michigan, Shakeel collects a number of interesting and intriguing essays on jihad in an attempt to understand the idea of jihad throughout the medieval Muslim world as a whole, not just focusing on the areas directly affected by the Crusade.

363 Dajani-Shakeel, “A Reassessment,” 42. The historians that Dajani Shakeel refers to are Bernard Lewis, Fransesco Gabrieli and J. J. Saunders. Ibid., 41-42

364Djani-Shakeel, “Perceptions of the Counter-Crusade,” 52. Shakeel builds off of this idea in her work on Jihad poetry. Djani Shakeel argues that twelfth century jihad poetry represent the guiding force to the establishming of a “socio-psychological and military build-up of the Muslim forces to counter the Crusades’ threat.” Hadia Djani Shakeel, “Jihad in Twelfth-Century Arabic Poetry,” in Jihad and Martyrdom, ed. David Cook (London: Routledge University Press: 2010), 220.

106 examining the causes and reasons for the success of the First Crusade.365 Al-Sulami argues that the success of the crusaders comes as “a warning from God (who is praised) of those of you that remain.”366 His treatise calls into question the role of the sultan, referring to his actions against the Franks as “sluggish.”367 He charges the sultan with

“guarding the religion,” further diminishing the need for the caliph’s approval of jihad, and turning a once religious doctrine into a secular practice.368 The ideas of jihad put forth within this treatise present the most relevant understanding of the concept of jihad surrounding the interwar period between the original Crusading efforts and the establishment of a counter-Crusade. While written after the completion of the First

Crusade and explaining the common sentiment of jihad in the period, al-Sulami’s words did not spark a jihad against the Crusaders.369 Other Muslim scholars reinvigorated the

365Shakeel, while not the preeminent historian on Al-Sulami, argues that he did in fact perceive “the First Crusade within a providential framework, defining it as one of the greatest disasters that had befallen Islam.” Ibid., 52.

366 ‘Ali b. Tahir al-Sulami, “A Translation of Extracts from the Kitab al-Jihad of ‘Ali ibn Tahir al- Sulami (d. 1106),” trans. Niall Christie, Cornell, http://falcon.arts.cornell.edu/prh3/447/texts/Sulami.html [accessed February 1, 2014]. Niall Christie states that al-Sulami also noted that the crusade success represented a divine test in which God desired “to test their (Muslims) dedication to Him.” Niall Christie and Deborah Gerish, “Parallel Preachings: Urban II and al-Sulami,” Al-Masaq: Journal of the Medieval Mediterranean 15, no. 2 (September 2003): 141.

367 Al-Sulami, “A Translation of Extracts,” 3.

368Ibid., 5. This correlates with the idea Hillenbrand presents regarding the caliph’s neglect of the call to jihad. This understanding influenced the writings of al-Sulami evident through his reliance on the sultan instead of the caliph. Shakeel discusses the poetry of Abu al-Muzaffar al-Abiwardi and notes that his work, along with other twelfth century poetry, reads as an attempt to “incite the rulers and the people to counterattack and declare jihad.” She acknowledges the work of al-Sulami and argues that these works, the poetry and the treatise “reflect a far greater awareness on the part of Muslims of the underlying motiv es of the Crusade.” Shakeel, “Twelfth-Century Poetry,” 221-23.

369Suleiman A. Mourad and James E. Lindsay, “Ibn ‘Asakir and the Intensification and Reorientation of Sunni Jihad Ideology in Crusader-Era Syria,” in Just Wars, Holy Wars, and Jihads, ed. Sohail H. Hashmi (Oxford, NY: Oxford University Press, 2012), 113-14. For more on Ibn ‘Asakir, see The Intensification and Reorientation of Sunni Jihad Ideology in the Crusader Period: Ibn ‘Asakir of Damascus (1105-1176) and His Age, with an Edition and Translation of Ibn ‘Asakir’s The Forty Hadiths for Inciting Jihad, (Leiden: Brill, 2002). For further information on the treatises developed by al-Sulami, see Niall 107 notion of jihad during the reign of Nur al-Din. These treatises, however, did not have an effect on Zengi because they circulated after his death.370 Suleiman A. Mourad and James

E. Lindsay argue that it was in Damascus during the reign of Nur al-Din that jihad ideology truly took hold. They note that the jihad ideology never truly developed in

Damascus during Zengi’s time because of their fear of the atabeg.371 The Crusading period witnessed changes in the official call to jihad.

Throughout the initial spread of Islam, the responsibility to both call for and wage jihad fell upon the caliph, or imam, an idea held by both Sunni and Shi’a branches of

Islam.372 In the period of the Crusades, however, as Hillenbrand points out, the Caliphate acted as a figure-head: “caliphs and other rulers neglected their duty to prosecute jihad but Muslim warriors took the initiative into their own hands and gathered together on the frontiers of Islam to live in Ribats and engage in individual jihad.”373 This concept

Christie, “Jerusalem in the Kitab al-Jihad of ‘Ali ibn Tahir al-Sulami,” in Medieval Encounters, 13, no.2 209-21 and Christie “‘Curses, Foiled Again!’ Further Research on Early Use of the ‘Hadalahum Allah’ Invocation during the Crusading Period,” Arabica, 58 (2011), 84-98.

370Ibn al-Qalanisi wrote The Damascus Chronicle of the Crusades during the reinvigoration of jihad ideology in Damascus under the leadership of Nur al-Din. This had a definitive influence on his writing and skewed the truthfulness of his work as he could have been writing for a more spiritual purpose, incorporating religious ideas where they had not been truly present. See Mourad and Lindsay for further details on the subject.

371Zengi represents the “hopeful” ruler at this point, as he attempted to take control of the city multiple times throughout the entirety of his career.

372 Peters, “Jihad: An Introduction,” 322. For information on the Shi’i interpretation of jihad, consult Assaf Mogahadam, “Mayhem, Myths, and Martyrdom: The Shi’a Conception of Jihad,” Jihad, Terrorism and Political Violence, 19 no. 1 (2007): 125. Mogahadam argues that the Shi’a conception of jihad stems from “historical suffering” throughout the early Islamic conquests. Mogahadam specifically highlights the assassination of Hussein ibn Ali as the epitome of a martyr in Shi’a tradition. Mogahadam, “Mayhem, Myths, and Martyrdom,” 125-29. This idea is further supported through Wayne R. Husted’s work “Karbala’ Made Immediate: The Martyr as Model in Imami Shi’ism” where he argues that Husayn is referred to as “Sayyid al-Shuhada (Prince of Martyrs)” because of his “selfless concern for Islam and filial piety.” Wayne R. Husted, “Karbala Made Immediate: The Martyr as Model in Imami Shi’ism,” The Muslim World , 83 no. 3-4 (1993): 264-65.

373 Hillenbrand, The Crusades, 99. 108 differs, however, from other interpretations of this transformation. Deborah Tor acknowledges the importance of the second/eighth century, as Islam experienced a

“radical transformation of the jihad.”374 Differing from Hillenbrand, however, Tor argues that the right to call for jihad transitioned from the caliph to the mutatawwi’a, or

“volunteer warriors for the faith,” which resulted in a “privatized” jihad.375 With no religious figure waging jihad, Tor believes that Muslim warriors took it upon themselves to develop “independent, non-governmentally controlled, smaller scale raids” when they felt that the boundaries of Islam were threatened.376 Whether during the early Islamic period or the crusading period, the shifting nature of jihad represented a “fundamental change” in the Islamic world.377 This concept transitioned into the crusading period and gave rise to men like Zengi who exhibited the willingness to take it upon themselves to wage war against the enemies of Islam, whether they threatened Islam or the personal interests of those who called for jihad.

Although not a direct comparison, jus bellum, or Christian “just war,” developed in a similar vein in spite of the difference in time and location. Juxtaposing these ideas allows for a more complete understanding of both concepts that experienced complete transformations throughout the Crusading period. Frederick H. Russell, in The Just War in the , traces the transformation of “just war” to “holy war” through the

374 Deborah Tor, “Privatized Jihad and Public Order in the Pre-Seljuq Period: The Role of the Mutatawwi’a,” Iranian Studies 38, no. 4 (2005): 556.

375Ibid., 558.

376Ibid., 557-58. Tor argues that the Arab-Byzantine frontier dictated the shift in jihad ideology that allowed for Muslims to wage jihad without caliphal consent.

377Ibid., 558.

109 establishment of this concept in the Roman, Judaic and Christian philosophies in the High

Middle Ages.378 Russell notes that there was a difference between “just war” and “holy war,” stating that “the holy war is fought for the goals or ideals of the faith and is waged by divine authority or on the authority of some religious leader…while the just war is usually fought on public authority for more mundane goals such as defense of territory, persons and rights” signifying that there is both an offensive and defensive version of

“holy war.”379 This changed, however, as the Judeo-Christian understanding of “just war” developed through the writings of St. Augustine, who argued that the preservation of peace acted as a justification for waging war.380 St. Augustine believed that war was impossible without some sort of peace “because war supposes the existence of some natures to wage it, and these natures cannot exist without peace of one kind or another.”381 While he desired peace above all, St. Augustine understood the need for war to achieve that peace.382 St. Augustine’s development of “holy war” represents the major

378The Roman tradition of “just war” developed based on the ideas of Aristotle who coined the term “just war.” Aristotle believed that “warfare was thus not an end in itself but a means to such higher goals as peace, glory and strength.” This secular idea of warfare did have religious connotations as well, as the Romans “hoped” that the Roman gods “would aid them in battle.” Even though the Romans believed that their gods would assist them, “just war” was only possible if called by a secular figure. The Judaic understanding of “just war” differed, however, because it focused on God calling for war, instead of kings. The Christian interpretation differed completely, as the Christian texts sought to “prohibit Christian participation in war” in the early Christian years. Frederick H. Russell, The Just War in the Middle Ages (London: Cambridge University Press, 1975), 3-10.

379Ibid., 2. Russell further argues that the “complex relationships between religion and politics” during the Medieval period allowed for the refining of “Christian and morality doctrine”

380St. Augustine of Hippo, De Civitate Dei Libri, trans. Emmanuel Hoffman, in Documents in World History (Upper Saddle River, NJ: Prentice Hall), 166.

381 Langan, “The Elements of St. Augustine,” The Journal of Religious Ethics 12, no.1 (Spring 1984): 29.

382 Ibid.

110 understanding of the time, as various scholars did not develop this concept further until after the Crusading period.

Religious leaders began to use St. Augustine’s “Just War Theory” as a means to advance political agendas. The Crusades, according to Russell, “became a strange hybrid of holy war and just war” utilized by Popes Gregory VII (1073-1085) and Urban II

(1085-1099) to assert papal autonomy.383 Carl Erdmann believes that in order for a war to be holy, it needs to be “regarded as a religious act” and “in some way set in a direct relation to religion;” this interpretation mirrors the understanding of Russell. 384

Interestingly, Erdmann discusses jihad in relation to his discussion of “holy war,” noting that, similar to jihad, since “the Gospels contain no specific condemnation of war, theology was gradually able to reconcile the contradiction as part of the progressive transformation of Christian ethics.”385 While this appears as a bit of a stretch, the similarities between the two concepts allow for a side-by-side comparison of the two ideas. With the understanding of Christian “holy war,” it is possible to approach the idea of jihad in a different, yet effective, manner.

The idea of “penitential warfare” developed during Pope Gregory VII’s papacy.

Gregory VII was “the first to state categorically that taking part in war of a certain kind could be an act of charity to which merit was attached and to assert in the end that such

383Ibid., 2, 34-36. Russell specifically states that Pope Gregory VII “was attempting to emancipate the papacy from dependence on the secular ruler for military aid,” pushing for various alliances with other groups, with the hopes of an army led by the papacy. Ibid., 35.

384Carl Erdmann, The Origin of the Idea of Crusade (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1977), 3. For information on the First Crusade, consult Steven Runciman, A History of The Crusades: The First Crusade and the Foundation of the Kingdom of Jerusalem (London: Cambridge University Press, 1994); Thomas Asbridge, The First Crusade: A New History (New York: Oxford University Press, 2004).

385Ibid.

111 an action could indeed be penitential.”386 Gregory VII, however, altered this concept and allowed the knights the opportunity to earn “remissions of sins by waging the warfare that was his life, in the service of Christ and in vindication of Christ’s name against the

Muslims.”387 Pope Urban II built upon the ideas of his predecessor and preached the idea of an “armed pilgrimage” in order to ensure one’s salvation.388 Yet, while the intentions of Urban II may have been to wage war to save Christian lives and out of love for God, powerful nobles and kings could manipulate this concept for personal gain.389

The concept of meritocracy behind “holy war” compares to the similar concept supporting jihad as well, and provided a necessary building block for the Crusades to develop. Similar to the concept to jihad, the issues becomes one of what constitutes a

Crusade and a jihad. Giles Constable focuses on the vast historiography on the Crusades but also discusses what constituted a crusade noting that “each participant made his- and in a few cases her-own Crusade, and the leaders had their own interests, motives, and objectives.”390 Both Muslims and Franks used the concept of fighting for God in order to

386Jonathan Riley-Smith, The First Crusaders, 1095-1131 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1997), 49-50. Cowdrey labels a number of factors that held weight in the development of “holy war,” alongside the developments under Gregory VII. One of these factors centered on the growing population of the people, which led to an increased desire to enhance monetary gain. Another factor came from the increased prestige of the knights, which was recognized and sponsored by the church. Cowdry labels H.E.J. Cowdrey, “The Genesis of the Crusades: The Springs of Western Ideas of Holy War” in Murphy, 13-22.

387Ibid., 23.

388Riley-Smith acknowledges that Urban II simply combined the “ideas and practices already in existence” in order to preach the idea of the Crusades. Riley- Smith, The First Crusaders,1.

389Ibid., 16. Riley-Smith argues that Urban truly saw the Crusaders as “being inspired by God and as agents of God.”

390Giles Constable, “The Historiography of the Crusades,” in The Crusades from the Perspective of Byzantium and the Muslim World, ed. Angeliki E. Laiou and Roy Parviz Mottahedeh (Washington, D.C.: Dumbarton Oaks Research Library and Collection, 2001), 1.

112 gain support for their respective causes. Marshall Baldwin’s believes that Urban II wanted to advance his own agenda and reunite the Eastern and Western Catholic under his jurisdiction.391 Zengi’s call for jihad throughout his career displays a similar agenda as the manipulation of this religious practice represented another tool that was available for the advancement of his own political agenda. This shows that in profound religious differences between the two civilizations, their concepts of “holy war” and jihad had similarities in their basic concepts and how figures manipulated them.

The Crusading period witnessed both the call for a Crusade from the Christians as well as multiple calls for jihad by the Muslim forces, to defend their lands from the

Crusaders. During the Crusades those who called for it as a means to satisfy their own desires corrupted the basic principles of the practice. According to Dajani-Shakeel, Zengi officially started the Second Crusade by uniting the Muslim forces under the banner of jihad and successfully recovered the from the Franks.392 When examining the instances in which Zengi specifically called for jihad, the evidence clearly indicates an attempt to achieve personal gains rather than to attain piety in the eyes of

God. Throughout the course of his career, Zengi was not a pious religious figure but a man determined to achieve his goals and used the idea of jihad as a tool to further his aims. Ideas surrounding the proper way to wage jihad remain a debatable topic for discussion, yet the ambiguity of jihad allowed men like Zengi to exploit one of Islam’s religious ideas in his personal quest for power.

391Baldwin, “Some Recent Interpretations of Pope Urban II’s Eastern Policy,” The Catholic Historical Review 25 , no. 4 (1940): 464.

392Shakeel, “Twelfth-Century Poetry,” 225.

113

A careful examination of Zengi’s calls for “holy war’ dismisses his religious depictions. Ibn al-Athir first associated jihad with Zengi in 524-525/1130, in conjunction with Zengi’s sieges of both Hama and Homs.393 Zengi appealed to the leader of

Damascus, Taj al-Muluk Buri, for “his assistance and aid in the conflict with his Frankish adversaries” in the waging of “holy war.”394 As mentioned previously in the second chapter, Zengi captured Taj al-Muluk’s men, including his son, and ransomed them for

5000 dinars which Taj al-Muluk Buri intended to pay.395 While this has received examination in a secular fashion, it is necessary to examine this event under a religious scope. The call for jihad in this instance appears to be nothing more than a clever ruse to gain the upper hand against Zengi’s enemy, highlighted by his later attempts at taking

Damascus. After he captured Taj al-Muluk Buri’s men and son, Zengi immediately continued with his attempts at developing independence in the area, never beginning a jihad against the Franks. This instance shows how Zengi abused the concept of jihad to suit his needs and to advance his plans during the early years of his career.

Zengi’s second use of jihad came fourteen years later in Frankish territory. The

Crusader County of Edessa fell in the year 539/1144.396 On 6 Jumada, 539/December 4,

1144, Jocelin II (d. 1159), ruler of Edessa, left the city in order to survey his other holdings.397 After his departure, Zengi issued a call for “holy war,” rallying a vast

393 Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle, 279.

394Ibn al-Qalanisi, Damascus Chronicle, 201.

395 Ibid.

396 Ibid., 372.

397 Ibn al-Athīr, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, 372; Ibn al-Azraq, A Muslim Principality, 109. William of Tyre, one of the Western Chronicler’s of the Crusades, mentions that Joscelin chose to live outside of the city and instead made his home in due to its “richness” and “his own laziness.” 114 number of troops in the area to fight under his banner. Muslim warriors raided Edessa and succeeded in defeating the Franks within the city walls, effectively capturing the first

Crusader state established in 1098 on Christmas day.398 Multiple accounts describe this battle, the outcome, and Zengi’s success. Ibn al-Qalanisi notes that Zengi took advantage of the information he received regarding the departure of Jocelin II from Edessa to rally a number of Turkomen troops from the Jazira to fulfill their obligation in “holy war.” 399

Zengi succeeded in taking the town of Edessa and dealt a significant blow to the Crusader forces.400

Zengi’s career, however, did not end with the fall of Edessa, as he continued on campaigns to increase his holdings. In 1146, Zengi journeyed to southeastern Iraq attempting to take the of Ja’bar on the River.401 It was in Iraq, on the banks of the Euphrates, the man known as “the bravest of God’s creatures,” was murdered on 5 Rabi II 541/ 14 September 1146. One of his slaves stabbed Zengi to death after he returned to his tent intoxicated. 402 Upon his death, his troops in the area ceased their siege of the city and dispersed.403 Although depicted as a pious religious man

William of Tyre, History of Deeds Done Beyond the Sea, trans. James A. Brundage, in the Fordham Internet Medieval Source Book, http://www.fordham.edu/halsall/source/tyre-edessa.html (accessed June 10, 2014.)

398 Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, 372; Ibn al-Azraq, A Muslim Principality, 109.

399 Francesco Gabrielli, Arab Historians of the Crusade, (Berkeley: University of California Press 1957), 49.

400Ibn al-Azraq notes that the “The Christians had been saying that atabeg (Zangi) would be killed on Christmas night and they were expecting that (to happen).” Ibn al-Azraq, A Muslim Principality, 109; Tyre, A History of Deeds Done Beyond the Sea.

401 Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle, 380.

402 Ibid., 382. Gabrielli, Arab Historians, 52.

403 Ibid., 381.

115 because of his victory at Edessa, further evidence will demonstrate that Zengi’s actions throughout his career show an adherence to his overall agenda, with no adherence to religious practices.

Zengi’s actions triggered mass movements by the Christians and the Muslims.

Because of his success at Edessa, Zengi’s contemporaries labeled him a mujahid.404 The first of these movements came in the form of the Second Crusade, while the second follows the counter crusade and unification of Muslim lands under Nur al-Din. As mentioned previously, the idea of jihad changed throughout the early Islamic conquests and into the Crusading period when a number of Muslim leaders began to use the concept of jihad in an attempt to amass troops to launch a counter offensive against the Crusaders in the Levant.405 Although the Franks had always been a threat to the Saljuq Empire, later

Muslim leaders, Nur al-Din and Saladin, expelled and/or organized efforts to rid the

Franks from their lands. While Zengi does not receive the same amount of coverage as these figures, his actions against the Crusaders earned him respect among his contemporaries and those writing after his death, even if his call for jihad was nothing more than an attempt to support his own plans.

Zengi’s success in Edessa garnered the attention of scholars and political leaders.

Contemporary Muslim sources began to refer to Zengi as a martyr, or shahid, and a

404Muslims who successfully wage jihad or “holy war” receive the title of Mujahid. Ibn al-Athir had attributed both titles to Zengi throughout his chronicle. While the biases of Ibn al-Athir are noticeable throughout, these titles gave Zengi an increased level of religious prestige. Ibid., 93.

405 Hadia Dajani Shakeel, “A Reassessment of Some Medieval and Modern Perceptions of the Counter Crusade,” in the Jihad and It’s Times, ed. Hadia Dajani-Shakeel and Ronald A. Messier (Ann Arbor, MI: University of Michigan Press), 54-63.

116 mujahid by contemporary Muslim sources.406 As mentioned, a shahid in Islamic tradition represents an individual who fell during jihad. Upon his death, a soldier would receive the title of martyr depicting his religious piety and commending the soldier for his service in the name of Islam who would ultimately receive divine recompense. Zengi, however, died two years following the fall of Edessa. Writing after the death of Zengi, Ibn al-Athir applies these titles to Zengi, even though he does not necessarily deserve them. Ibn al-

Athir’s conferment of these titles well after Zengi’s actions, appears as an attempt to embellish Zengi’s accomplishments further as a ploy to appeal to his Zengid patrons. The question remains, however, as to whether Zengi’s actions earned him the recognition as a mujahid warrior.

Zengi in the interwar period between the First and Second Crusade established himself as one of the dominant military commanders in the Muslim world. Zengi’s relationship with the various political entities, whether secular and religious, in the Saljuq

Empire both benefited and harmed his overall goal of amassing more power in these lands. In regard to his call to “holy war,” Zengi’s relationship with the caliphate requires reexamination. Since he remained on relatively bad terms with the caliph, Zengi never received support from the caliph to wage war on behalf of Islam. While ambitious political figures still called for jihad, the term still required the caliph’s approval. Zengi’s call for jihad, therefore, does not have the religious backing necessary to be a jihad in its purest sense, even if, as Tor acknowledges, warriors used jihad without the backing of the Caliphate. No evidence suggests that Zengi acted with the backing of the caliph, or

406 Hillenbrand, The Crusades, 115. Hillenbrand does an exceptional job breaking down the development of jihad ideology during the reign of Zengi. Her coverage, though not definitive, deserves examination in order to gather a basic understanding of how Zengi and Nur al-Din handled the “jihad” against the Crusaders. Ibid., 87-170.

117 that they publicly or privately supported his actions. Zengi’s relationship with the caliph weakened his religious pedigree and tainted his call for jihad at Homs and specifically and more importantly at Edessa.

Zengi’s knowledge of what calling for jihad meant plays a crucial role in the assessment of his successful call for jihad. In order for Zengi to call for jihad in its pure spiritual form, he needed a strong understanding of the background of jihad. Zengi received this information through association with the religious community, the ulama, trained in the art of understanding the Qur’an as well as the hadith. There is, however, no evidence that Zengi had a connection with the religious community or that he kept members of the ulama within his immediate entourage. In the second half of the sixth/twelfth century, Ibn al-Qaysarani recounts that the next step for Zengi was to take the city of Jerusalem: “If the conquest of al-Ruhā is a sea, then Jerusalem and the coast would be its shore. Have they [Jerusalem and the coast] not known, what the other country [Edessa] knew, that those dwelling in it will soon depart.”407 After his victory at

Jerusalem predicted by al-Qaysarani, Zengi would then develop a relationship with the religious community.

Carole Hillenbrand also notes that Zengi would establish a connection with the religious community after he retook the city of Jerusalem from the Franks.408 This suggests that Zengi had no prior commitment to members of the ulama, and therefore, and as no evidence exists in the chronicles to the contrary, that he had not received any religious education. In order for Zengi to understand the basics of jihad without a

407Shakeel, “Twelfth-Century Poetry,” 229.

408 Hillenbrand, The Crusades, 115; Shakeel, “Twelfth-Century Poetry,” 229.

118 connection to the religious community, he needed to educate himself; Ibn al-Athir makes no mention of Zengi educating himself on the subject of jihad. None of the chroniclers discuss Zengi’s piety throughout their works, or if he supported religious scholars within his entourage. Without scholars in his immediate support base and no evidence to support that Zengi took it upon himself to read the Qur’an and the hadith in search of the meaning of jihad, the religious aspect of his actions is diminished, replaced with the idea that Zengi called for jihad in order to strengthen his position in the Saljuq political system.

Further examination into Zengi’s political relationships shows that his call for jihad became unnecessary as well. Zengi’s conquering of the Jazira represents one of the important achievements of his career, as he succeeded in establishing relationships with the political groups in the area. 409 After his conquest of the area, Zengi succeeded in formulating an alliance with troops in the Jazira, originally through their leader,

Timurtash, when he became Zengi’s “vassal” in 528/1133/-1134.410 This alliance required the Turkomen troops to fight for Zengi when he called for them. Zengi summoned the Turkomen warriors to fight with him at Edessa in 1146, and, as Ibn al-

Qalanisi notes, “to carry out the obligation of holy war.”411 The political obligation of the

Turkomen to fight on behalf of Zengi plays an important role in their participation in the siege of Edessa, making the call for holy war unnecessary, and functioning simply as a

409 Hillenbrand, “The Career of Zengi,” 118. The Jazira refers to the lands between the Tigris and Euphrates River.

410Ibn al-Azraq, A Muslim Principality, 83. This interaction received attention within the second chapter.

411 Ibn al-Qalanisi, The Damascus Chronicle, 266.

119 rallying cry. After the battle, “the hands of the victors were filled with money and treasure, horses and booty enough to gladden the heart and make the soul rejoice.”412 The troops involved in the siege of Edessa fought because of political alliances to Zengi as well as financial support for their actions, not so much for religious purposes, as there is no evidence to support their religious beliefs.

Even though Zengi’s call for holy war did not necessarily come from a man truly fighting for Islam, it nevertheless comprised a crucial element to Zengi’s establishment of power. To acquire power at this time and to legitimize one’s rule in the grander Saljuq

Empire, Zengi needed to appeal to the bulk of Muslims who held true to their religious beliefs. Rudolph Peters notes that “one of the ways to acquire greater legitimacy was to wage jihad against unbelievers.”413 After developing the idea that Zengi’s ultimate goal was to legitimize himself in Syrian lands and separate from the Saljuqs, Zengi’s call to jihad takes on a different aspect. While he had alliances with the Turkomen troops fighting alongside him in Edessa, legitimizing himself in waging jihad convinced his troops of his legitimacy to have power and authority in his land holdings.

The importance of religious authority proves to be a crucial aspect of legitimizing one’s power, and further explains the lack of piety surrounding Zengi’s call for holy war.

A.K.S Lambton discusses the importance of religion to Muslims as a way of legitimization. Lambton notes that Mulsims believed that “the most perfect and complete power is the power of God.”414 If this is the case, then Zengi’s call for jihad becomes

412 Gabrielli, Arab Historians, 50.

413Peters, “Jihad: An Introduction,” 323.

414Lambton, “Concepts of Authority in Persia,” 95.

120 even more deceitful, as it transforms into a method of to promote his legitimacy as their leader and ruler. In order to legitimize his rule, Zengi needed to convince the populations of the cities he controlled that his cause was one based on religion. After having his name recited in the khutbah, Zengi received religious and sociopolitical legitimacy. In order to continue to persuade the population of his religious legitimacy, he needed to continue waging of jihad.415 Zengi’s call to jihad, specifically during the siege of Edessa displays a keen understanding of the importance of attracting soldiers to his cause and keeping his religious legitimacy intact.

Zengi attacked Edessa in order to satisfy his program for securing power in Syria and Iraq, not necessarily as an attempt to rid the Muslim lands of the Frankish intruders.

While the Franks acted as a threat to his independence, Zengi did not focus his actions on the expulsion of the Crusaders from the area. Ibn al-Athir discusses Zengi’s victory at

Edessa but never mentions that Zengi called for “holy war.” As one of the primary writers on Zengi and the Zengid dynasty, Ibn al-Athir’s neglect to discuss it shows that only some Muslim chroniclers believed that Zengi called for “holy war” at Edessa.

Interestingly, Ibn al-Athir describes the actions of Zengi’s successors, Nur al-Din and

Saladin, as jihad, whereas the siege of Edessa does not receive similar recognition. The varying accounts surrounding the call for jihad articulate different understandings of the religiosity of Zengi’s actions in Edessa and show that there is not enough substantial evidence to depict Zengi as a religious warrior. Skepticism of the sources places Ibn al-

Qalanisi’s account of the actual call for “holy war” in question. Writing in a period of revived jihad ideology, Ibn al-Qalanisi may have labeled his actions a jihad hoping to

415Ibn al-Azraq, A Muslim Principality, 100.

121 ignite further the religious fervor in Damascus. Also, because of the time frame between the actual fall of Edessa and the writing of this account, issues arise form of lack of consistency in storytelling. The fall of Edessa occurred; the call for “holy war,” however, is questionable, as both Ibn al-Athir and Ibn al-Azraq do not mention Zengi specifically calling for “holy war.”

Ibn al-Qalanisi specifically mentions that towards the end of his career and after the siege of Edessa, Zengi was “giving his attention to gathering equipment, making preparations and mustering levies for the purpose of the Raid and the Holy War.”416 Ibn al-Qalanisi then notes that Zengi prepared to attack Damascus, not any Frankish territories.417 Examination of the account with the understanding that Zengi spent his career attempting to advance his agenda, and not that of the Islamic world, allows for a more accurate understanding of Zengi’s motivation. Zengi attempted to besiege

Damascus, a Muslim city, multiple times throughout his career. Zengi believed that the city held importance to his overall plans. Ibn al-Qalanisi’s depiction of Zengi’s use of

“holy war” then, does not seem legitimate. Zengi’s “holy war” in this regard, similar to his “holy war” at Edessa remains a manipulative effort, used by Zengi to coerce more soldiers to join his ranks and assist him in the capture of Damascus.

The evidence surrounding Zengi’s actions during his career shows a commitment to his own personal agenda. Zengi’s relationship with other prominent Muslims forced him to change alliances and develop different strategies in order to keep his own plans intact. The battles at Homs and Edessa occurred simply because of Zengi’s desire to

416Ibn al-Qalanisi, The Damascus Chronicle, 269-70.

417Ibid.

122 expand his own political power and establish himself as the chief Muslim principality in

Syria. Zengi never acted in defense of Islam and the conferment of the title of mujahid or martyr does not take into account his political aspirations.

Zengi’s attack on Edessa helped to strengthen his holdings in the areas north of

Aleppo and Mosul. Despite the fact that Zengi fought and defeated Christians in Edessa,

Zengi’s move to Edessa represents a strategic military advancement. Zengi did not have a definitive jihad campaign against the Franks, as Zengi went to battle with the Franks multiple times during his career, without the sources mentioning that he waged jihad.418

Zengi took advantage of Joscelin’s movement away from the city and established a much stronger northern border to his established base of power. Edessa could have also supplied Zengi with an alternative travel route, as the city lies between the cities of

Aleppo and Mosul. While the sources do not depict the military advantages of attacking and taking Edessa, Zengi’s consistent attempts at consolidation and expansion of his own territories provides a strategic purpose for taking Edessa rather than a religious one.

The contemporary sources eulogized Zengi upon his death as a defender of Islam and a proponent of jihad. By reviewing the details of his career in terms of the desire for autonomy and legitimacy, however, Zengi’s true motives come to light. While Zengi remains a significant military general who demonstrated sound command and ferocity, his portrayals as a mujahid and as a religious advocate do not necessarily consider his political aspirations nor his reasoning behind his maneuvers at Homs, Damascus and

418In 524/1129-1130, Zengi took the castle of Al-Atharib, defeating a number of Franks. While Ibn al-Athir believes that Zengi experienced divine intervention during this altercation, he does not state that Zengi embarked on a jihad. Also, in 531/1136-1137, Zengi attacked Ba’rin, which the Franks hel Along with his defeat of the Byzantine Emperor, Zeng fought the Franks in order to strengthen his own position, not out of a religious desire to remove them from the Muslim lands. Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle of Ibn al- Athir, 282, 336. 123

Edessa. Zengi’s successes come from his political desires and goals, not necessarily his

“religious” beliefs. The sources may contain information trying to prove Zengi’s religious fervor, but with extant information, Zengi’s career does not encompass a true religious aspect. His only observable goal was self-preservation and self-promotion in a world where power defined success.

124

CONCLUSION

Zengi, throughout his military career covering the period between the First and

Second Crusade, succeeded in navigating the political structure of the Saljuqs in an attempt to establish independence from the sultan. Although he witnessed a shift in goals throughout the later portion of his career, Zengi firmly desired both the power and authority necessary to establish himself as an equal entity alongside the sultans of the

Saljuq Empire. Zengi’s desire for power led to a successful career, the culmination of which led to his taking possession of Edessa and establishing himself as one of the most powerful Muslim rulers of the period.

The Saljuq political system established by Tughril Beg, and expanded by his successors Alp Arslan and Malikshah, gave Zengi the opportunities necessary to develop his own base of power. The Saljuqs dependence on familial succession led to various succession crises that allowed lesser officials, the amirs and atabegs, the ability to grow in power and establish themselves as pivotal players in the area. Zengi needed to establish himself among the people, which he did through military success. Zengi also appealed to Muslim soldiers through the power of religion and chose to manipulate religious ideologies in order to advance his claims. While not completely similar, Zengi’s actions mirror those of Tughril Beg in his initial claim to power, as Zengi followed similar steps The Saljuq sultan took in order to establish his power alongside the caliph.

Zengi succeeded, as Tughril Beg and the sultans after him, in establishing his own power alongside the caliph and the sultan. 125

In order for Zengi to realize the ambitions he held, he needed to forge, and then ultimately sever, ties with various Muslim principalities in the area. Zengi, during his military and political career, experienced great success as well as dismal failure. Zengi interacted with a number of figures, such as sultans, caliphs and other atabegs and amirs.

He also worked closely with other political groups including the Saljuqs, Abbasids, and

Artuqids, all of which Zengi treated differently depending on the benefits they provided him. His political relationships with the Saljuqs, Abbasids, Artuqids, Damascenes,

Aleppans and the Franks represent strategic maneuvers with the purpose of self- preservation. Each of these groups held importance to Zengi’s overall plans and gave him the various building blocks needed in order to develop his own autonomous position in the military and political arena. After Zengi exploited these groups and figures for his own purposes, he severed relationships with them and continued to look for more support from various figures, even if he had opposed that group in an earlier period in his career.

Zengi also needed to make certain that he constantly kept his enemies in check. In his eulogy for Zengi, Ibn al-Athir recounts that Zengi always aimed to take “from each one of his neighbors some tract of land.”419 These “neighbors” that Ibn al-Athir refers to represent the leaders of each of the groups, with whom Zengi held political relationships.

In order to succeed, Zengi needed to defend his lands from potential intruders who wanted to reduce his power. His motives surrounding the battles he chose to involve himself in, along with the areas which he attempted to assimilate into his own potential empire, remain simply personal with no religious motivation, as did his reasons for manipulating his relationships with figures who helped to push his career forward.

419Ibn al-Athir, The Chronicle, 383. 126

Zengi’s capture of Edessa, from a Western perspective, became his crowning achievement. He not only succeeded in retaking the city for Muslims but also uniting a band of Muslims under one rule, setting the precedent for his successors, Nur al-Din and

Saladin, to follow. Zengi took an individual practice of self-aggrandizement and exploited it in a manner that convinced soldiers around him to take up arms and fight under his name. The basic understanding of jihad as an inner struggle transitioned into a call to arms through the Crusading period. Zengi’s appeal for jihad gave him yet another path to legitimation, one that gave him prestige equal to that of the caliph. The call for holy war served as simply another tool in Zengi’s arsenal. He used religious sentiment as a method of gaining an upper hand on opponents as well, as shown through his exploitation of Taj al-Muluk, a member of the Damascene leadership. Zengi, as there exists no evidence to the contrary, did not desire salvation in exchange for his actions.

Instead, he desired power.

Zengi directed his career towards the establishment of his own autonomy, separate from the Saljuqs. This changed, however, toward the end of his career as he began to focus more on the establishment of his own line to the Sultanate, alluded to in

Ibn al-Athir’s assessment of his shifting goals. Further research into whether an autonomous principality served as the first step towards a much larger goal may shed light onto Zengi’s overall goals. As evidenced through the writings of Ibn al-Athir, Zengi desired to see the Empire under his jurisdiction and control. He altered political relationships in order to amass the strength necessary to establish himself more the

Sultanate and used jihad as a way to control the population into believing that he adhered to the religious responsibilities of the sultan. Still, the backdrop of his desire for the

127

Sultanate centers on the concept of autonomy. In order to reach that goal, Zengi needed to strengthen his holdings in a manner that allowed him the freedom to conduct himself in any way necessary. Sources not in translation may tell a different story and may shed light onto an agenda focused on larger goals. But the sources available portray Zengi as a strong ruler who wanted to establish himself as a separate entity within the Saljuq

Empire. Zengi is an important figure to the crusading period. Even though he did not interact exclusively with the Franks, his activities still affected the Crusading states. His actions dictate the need to expand the historical research on the Muslim warriors who held less influence than Zengi, in order to continue to understand the Islamic world during the crusades in a more complete fashion.

Zengi’s success in Edessa sent a shockwave through the Crusader states, as

Thomas Madden eloquently states, “the Christian aura of invincibility was shattered.”420

With the capture of Edessa, Pope Eugenius III (r. 540-548/1145-1153) issued a call for the Second Crusade. Led by Louis VII (r. 532-575/1137-1180) of France and Conrad III

(r. 533-547/1138-1152) of Germany, the Crusader forces, instead of journeying to take back Edessa, traveled to Damascus, where they believed the power of the Muslim forces resided. Zengi’s son, Nur al-Din, succeeded in defeating the Crusading forces outside of the city, leading to the Frankish retreat and the labeling of the Crusade as a “disaster.”421

Zengi’s actions in Edessa sparked this Crusade. The conquest of Edessa, however, represents the culmination of Zengi’s military career, one that witnessed the successful maneuvering within a political system that gave power to effective political figures.

420Madden, The New Concise History, 51.

421Ibid., 61. For a complete history of the Second Crusade, see Madden, The New Concise History, 52-61. 128

Zengi’s success held widespread ramifications throughout the Muslim world. His untimely death quelled any other ambitions he held throughout his career. But Zengi succeeded in establishing himself as a powerful, separate entity alongside the Saljuqs and remains a key, if largely unheralded, figure within the Crusading era.

129

Figure 1. Map of the Abbasid Empire, eighth-twelfth century.422

422 Abbasid Caliphate and Fragmentation [map]. http://qed.princeton.edu/index.php/User:Student/Abbasid_Caliphate_and_fragmentation,_786_to_1194 130

Figure 2: Map of the extent of the Saljuq Empire, late eleventh century.423

423The Saljuq Empire in the Late Eleventh Century [map]. http://coursesa.matrix.msu.edu/~fisher/hst373/Maps/Seljuk.html (date accessed September 20, 2014). 131

Figure 3: Map of the Crusader States by 1109.424

424Map of the Crusader State [map]. “The East and the West in the Middle Ages.” http://crusades- medieval.blogspot.com/2010/04/ map-of-crusader-states-in-east.html (accessed September 20, 2014). 132

Figure 4. Map of the Zengid State by 1144425

425The Crusader States at their Greatest Extent, c. AD1144 [map]. “Islamic Coins.” http://islamiccoins.ancients.info/Zangids/ZangidState.JPG (accessed September 17, 2014). 133

TIMELINE OF EVENTS 449/1058 – Tughril Beg is named al-Sultan al-Mu’azzam 455/1063 – Tughril Beg dies and is succeeded by Alp Arslan 465/1072 – Alp Arslan dies and is succeeded by Malikshah 472/1085 – Zengi is born 484-485/1092 – Malikshah and Nizam al-Mulk die 487/1094 – Al-Muqtadi dies 488/1095 – Barkyaruq claims the Sultanate 508/1114 – Aqsunqur al-Bursuqi is given the governorship of Mosul and Zengi travels with him to take control of the city 512/1118 – Sultan Muhammad dies and is succeeded by Mahmud; Al-Mustashir dies 516/1122-1123 – Al-Bursuqi charges Zengi with administering the lands of Wasit on his behalf 518/1124-1125 – Zengi refuses the call for assistance by al-Bursuqi and begins to advance his own political agenda 520/1126-1127 – Al-Bursuqi dies; Zengi receives commission as shihna of Baghdad 522/1128 – Zengi takes the city of Aleppo 523/1128-1129 – Zengi receives formal permission to govern Mosul 525/1130-1131 – Sultan Mahmud dies and is succeeded by Mas’ud 529/1135 – Al-Mustarshid dies 530/1136 – Al-Rashid leads an unsuccessful revolt against the Sultan accompanied by Zengi 532/1138 – Zengi marries Lady Zumurrud of Damascus 533/1139-1140 – Zengi attempts to take Damascus under his jurisdiction 538/1144 – Zengi retakes Edessa 540/1146 – Zengi dies.

134

APPENDICES

135

Appendix A: List of Rulers Abbasid Caliphs of the fourth-sixth/tenth-twelfth centuries426 Abdallah b. al-Qadir, Abu Jaʽfar al-Qa’im (r. 422-467/1031-1075)

Abdallah b. Muhammad, Abu ‘l-Qasim al-Muqtadi (r. 467-487/1075-1094)

Ahmad b. al-Muqtadi, Abu ’l-‘Abbas al-Mustazhir (r. 487-512/1094-1118)

Al-Fadl b. al-Mustazhir, Abu Mansur al-Mustarshid (r. 512-529/1118-1135)

Al-Mansur b. al-Mustarshid, Abu Ja‘far al-Rashid (r. 529-535/1135-1136)

Yusuf b. al-Muqtafi, Abu ’l-Muzaffar al-Mustanjid (r. 530-555/1136-1160)

Saljuq Sultans

Tughril Beg Muhammad b. Mika’il b. Saljuq (r. 431-455/1040-1063)

Muhammad Alp Arslan b. Chagri Beg Dawud (r. 455-465/1063-1072)

Malikshah b. Alp Arslan (r. 465-485/1072-1092)

Mahmud b. Malikshah (r. 485-487/1092-1094)

Barkyaruq b. Malikshah (r. 487-498/1094-1105)

Malikshah b. Barkyaruq (r. 498/1105)

Muhammad Tapar b. (r. 498-511/1105-1118)

Mahmud b. Muhammad (r. 511-525/1118-1131)

Ahmad Sanjar b. Malik Shah (r. 511-552/1118-1157)427

426 The following data is found in C. E. Bosworth, The New Islamic Dynasties: A Chronological and Genealogical Manual (Columbia NY: Columbia University Press, 1996), 6; 185-86; 190; 96.

427 After 511/1118 supreme Sultan of the Saljuq family 136

Dawud b. Mahmud (r. 525-526/1131-1132)

Tughril II b. Muhammad (r. 526-529/1132-1134)

Masud 529-548/1134-1152

Artuqids

Suqman I b. Artuq (r. 495-498/1102-1104)

Ibrahim b. Suqman (r. 498-502/1104-1109)

Dawud b. Suqman (r. 502-539/1109-1144)

Qara Arslan b. Dawud: (r. 539-562/1144-1167)

Zengids

The main line in Mosul and Aleppo Zengi b. Qasim al-Dawla Aqsunqur (r. 521-541/1127-1146)

Ghazi I b. Zangi (r. 541-544/1146-1149)

Mawdud b. Zangi I (r. 544-565/1149-1170)

Ghazi II b. Mawdud (r. 576/1180)

The line in Damascus and then Aleppo Mahmud b. Zangi, Abu ’l-Qasim al-Malik al-‘Adil Nur al-Din (r. 541-569/1147-1174)

Ismail b. Mahmud, al-Malik al-Salih Nur al-Din (r. 569-577/1174-1181)

137

Appendix B. Glossary Amir. Figures directly appointed by the Sultan who were given a military garrison, a shihna, who ran the civil and financial aspects of their controlled land. The role of the amir expanded through the Buyid and Saljuq period. Atabeg. “Father-lord.” This figure was given lands to govern in return for raising a son of the Sultan. Caliph. Traditional ruler of the Sunni world, dating from the death of the Prophet in 10/632. Dinar. Gold coin used during the period Dirham. Silver coin used during the period Ghazw/Razzia. Raids done during the early spread of Islam. Hadith. The words and actions of the prophet. . Represents one of the Five Pillars of Islam. This represents the journey that every Muslim must make to Medina within their lifetime. Iqta’. “Lands” or fiefs used to produce revenues that helped to support the army. Jihad. Loosely translated as struggle, referring to both an internal struggle of a Muslim to adhere to God’s message and the struggle against the enemies of Islam in the form of holy war. Khutbah. The Friday sermon given in the major mosques of towns and cities in which the rulers’ names, among others, are recited. (The caliph, in the post Rashidun era, had no role in giving the khutbah) Mujahid. A person who wages jihad. Nizamiyya. Pupils and protégés of Nizam al-Mulk. Shahid. A martyr in the Islamic faith. Shihna. A position appointed by the rulers to act as their liaison in particular city or province. Sultan. Title adopted by and given to the Ghaznavid and Saljuq rulers.

138

Sunna. Made up of individual hadith. This term refers to the “way” of the Prophet, nade up of individual accounts (hadith) of his actions and statements. Ulama. Religious Scholars.

139

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Primary Sources Augustine of Hippo. De Civitate Dei Libri. Translated by Emmanuel Hoffman. In Documents in World History. Upper Saddle River, NJ: Prentice Hall: 165-166. Al-Husayni, Sadr al- Din. The History of the Seljuq State: A Translation with commentary of the Akhbar al-dawla al-saluqiyya. Edited by Clifford Edmund Bosworth. London: Routledge, 2011. Ibn al-Athir. The Annals of the Saljuq Turks: Selections from al-Kāmil fīʼl-taʼrīkh of ‘Izz al-Din Ibn al-Athir. Translated by D.S. Richards. New York: Routledge Curzon, 2002. ———. The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athīr for the Crusading Period from al-Kāmil fīʼl- taʼrīkh. Part 1: The Years 491-541/1097-1146: The Coming of the Franks and the Muslim Response. Translated by D.S. Richards. Aldershot, UK: Ashgate, 2007. Ibn al-Azraq. A Muslim Principality in Crusader Times: The Early Artuqid State. Translated by Carole Hillenbrand. Istanbul: Nederlands Historisch- Archaeologisch Instituut, 1990. Ibn al-Qalanisi. The Damascus Chronicle of the Crusades. Translated by H.A.R. Gibb. London: Luzac and Company Press, 1967. Al-Sulami, ‘Ali ibn Tahir. “A Translation of Extracts from the Kitab al-Jihad of ‘Ali ibn Tahir al-Sulami (d. 1106).” Translated by Niall Christie. Cornell University. Accessed February 1, 2014. http://falcon.arts.cornell.edu/prh3/447/texts/Sulami.html William of Tyre. The Fall of Edessa. Translated by James Brundage. In the Fordham Internet Medieval Source Book. Accessed June 10, 2014. http://www.fordham.edu/halsall/source/tyre-edessa.html Secondary Sources Alptekin, Coskun. “The Reign of Zangi: 521-541/1127-1146.” PhD diss., University of London, 1978.

140

Azhari, Taef. “Imad al-Din Zanki and Hostile Policy toward the Saljuqid Sultanate and the Abbasid Caliphate in Iran and Iraq: Expanding His Frontiers 1127-1146.” American International Journal of Contemporary Research 12, no. 12 (December 2012): 13-23. Asbridge, Thomas. The First Crusade: A New History. New York: Oxford University Press, 2004.

Baldwin, Marshall W. “Some Recent Interpretations of Pope Urban II’s Eastern Policy.’ The Catholic Historical Review 25, no. 4 (January 1940): 459-466.

Bonner, Michael. Jihad in Islamic history: Doctrines and Practice. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2006. ———. “Some Observations Concerning the Early Development of Jihad on the Arab- Byzantine Frontier.” Studia Islamica, no.75 (1992): 5-31. Bostom, Andrew G. The Legacy of Jihad: Islamic Holy War and the Fate of Non- Muslims. Amherst, NY: Prometheus Books, 2005. Bosworth, C.E. “Barbarian Incursions: The Coming of the Turks into the Islamic World.” In Islamic Civilisation, 950-1150: A Colloquium Published Under the Auspices of the Near Eastern History Group, Oxford, the Near East Center, University of Pennsylvania, edited by D. S. Richards, 2-17. Oxford, England: Cassirer Press, 1973.

———. “Military Organisation Under the Buyids of Persia and Iraq.” Oriens 18/19 (1965/1966): 143-167.

———. “Recruitment, Muster, and Review in Medieval Islamic Armies.” In War, Technology, and Society in the Middle East, edited by V.J. Parry and M. E. Yapp, 59-77. London: Oxford University Press, 1975.

———. The Later Ghaznavids; Splendour and Decay: The Dynasty in Afghanistan and Northern India 1040-1186. New York, NY: Columbia University Press, 1977.

———. “The Origins of the Seljuqs.” In The Seljuqs: Politics, Society, and Culture, edited by Christian Lange and Songül Mecit, 13-21. Edinburgh, UK: Edinburgh University Press, 2011.

———. The New Islamic Dynasties: A Chronological and Genealogical Manual. New York, NY: Columbia University Press, 1996.

141

———. “The Political and Dynastic History of the Iranian World (A.D. 1000-1217).” In The Saljuq and Mongol Periods. Edited by J.A. Boyle, vol. 5 of The Cambridge History of Iran, 1-202. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1968. Cahen, Claude. “The Turkish Invasion: The Selchukids.” In A History of the Crusades, edited by Kenneth Setton, 135-176. Madison, WI: The University of Wisconsin Press, 1969. Christie, Niall. “‘Curses, Foiled Again!’ Further Research on Early Use of the ‘Hadalahum Allah’ Invocation during the Crusading Period,” Arabica 58, no.6 (2011): 84-98. ———. “Jerusalem in the Kitab al-Jihad of ‘Ali ibn Tahir al-Sulami,” in Medieval Encounters, 13, no.2 (2007): 209-221. ——— and Deborah Gerish. “Parallel Preachings: Urban II and al-Sulami.” Al-Masaq: Journal of the Medieval Mediterranean 15, no. 2 (September 2003): 139-148. Constable, Giles. “The Historiography of the Crusades.” In The Crusades from the Perspective of Byzantium and the Muslim World, edited by Angeliki E. Laiou and Roy Parviz Mottahedeh, 1-22. Washington, D.C.: Dumbarton Oaks Research Library and Collection, 2001. Cook, David. Understanding Jihad. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 2005. Cowdrey, H.E.J. “The Genesis of the Crusades: The Springs of Western Ideas of Holy War.” In The Holy War, edited by Thomas Patrick Murphy, 9-32. Columbus, OH: Ohio State University Press, 1976.

Dajani-Shakeel, Hadia. “A Reassessment of some Medieval and Modern Perceptions of the Counter Crusade.” In The Jihad and Its Times, edited by Hadia Dajani- Shakeel and Ronald A. Messier, 41-70. Ann Arbor, MI: University of Michigan Press, 1991. ———. “Jihad in Twelfth-Centruy Arabic Poetry.” In Jihad and Martyrdom: Critical Concepts in Islamic Studies, edited by David Cook, 220-234. London, UK: Routledge Press, 2010. Erdmann, Carl. The Origin of the Idea of Crusade. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1977. Firestone, Reuven. “Conceptions of Holy War in Biblical and Qur’anic Tradition.” The Journal of Religious Ethics, 24, no. 1 (Spring, 1996): 99-123.

142

———.“Disparity and Resolution in the Qur’anic Teachings on War: A Reevaluation of a Traditional Problem.” In Jihad and Martyrdom: Critical Concepts in Islamic Studies, edited by David Cook, 14-36. London, UK: Routledge Press, 2010. Fletcher, Joseph. “Turco-Mongolian Monarchic Tradition in the Ottoman Empire.” Harvard Ukranian Studies ¾ no. 1 (1979-1980): 236-251. Frye, Richard N. and Aydin M. Sayili. “Turks in the Middle East before the Saljuqs.” Journal of the American Oriental Society 63, no. 3 (July-September 1943): 194- 207. Gabrieli, Francesco. Arab Historians of the Crusades. New York, NY: Dorset Press, 1989.

Gibb, H.A.R. “Zengi and the Fall of Edessa.” In A History of the Crusades: The First Hundred Years, edited by Kenneth M. Setton, 449-462. Madison, WI: Wisconsin University Press, 1969. Hanne, Eric. Putting the Caliph in His Place: Power, Authority, and the Late Abbasid Caliphate. Madison, NJ: Farleigh Dickson University Press, 2007. ———. “Ritual and Reality: The Bay’a Process in Eleventh-and Twelfth-century Islamic Courts.” In Court Ceremonies and Rituals of Power in Byzantium and the Medieval Mediterranean: Comparative Perspectives, edited by Alexander Beihammer, Stavroula Constantinou, and Maria Parani, 141-148. Leiden, NL: Brill, 2013.

Hillenbrand, Carole. "1092: A Murderous Year”." In Proceeding of the 14th Congress of the Union Européenne des Arabisants et Islamisants, 281-296. 1995.

———. “Abominable Acts:’ The Career of Zengi.” In The Second Crusade: Scopes and Consequences, edited by Jonathan Phillips and Martin Hoch, 111-132. New York, NY: Manchester University Press, 2001. ———. “Aspects of the Court of the Great Seljuqs.” In The Seljuqs: Politics, Society, and Culture, edited by Christian Lange and Songül Mecit, 22-38. Edinburgh, UK: Edinburgh University Press, 2011. ———. The Crusades: Islamic Perspectives. Chicago, IL: Fitzroy Dearborn Publishers, 1999. ———. “The History of the Jazira, 1100-1250: A Short Introduction.” In The Art of Syria and the Jazira 1100-1250, edited by J. Raby, 9-19. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 1985.

143

Hodgson, Marshall. The Venture of Islam: Conscience and History in a World Civilization. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press, 1974. Husted, Wayne R. “‘Karbala’ Made Immediate: The Martyr as Model in Imami Shi’ism.” The Muslim World, 83 no. 3-4 (October 1993): 263-278.

Kister, M.J. “Land Property and Jihad: A Discussion of Some Early Traditions.” In Jihad and Martyrdom: Critical Concepts in Islamic Studies, edited by David Cook, 37- 66. London, UK: Routledge Press, 2010.

Klausner, Carla L. The Seljuk Vezirate: A Study of Civil Administration, 1055-1194. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1973.

Lambton, A. K. S. “Concepts of Authority in Persia: Eleventh to Nineteenth Centuries A.D. Iran 26 (1988): 95-103. ———. “The Administration of Sanjar’s Empire as Illustrated in the “Atabat al-kataba.” Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London 20 no. 1/3 (February 1957): 367-388. ———. “The Internal Structure of the Saljuq Empire.” In The Saljuq and Mongol Periods, edited by J.A. Boyle, vol. 5 of The Cambridge History of Iran, 203-282. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1968. Landau-Tasseron, Ella. “Jihad.” In In Jihad and Martyrdom: Critical Concepts in Islamic Studies, edited by David Cook, 5-13. London, UK: Routledge Press, 2010. Langan, John. “The Elements of St. Augustine’s Just War Theory.” The Journal of Religious Ethics 12, no. 1 (Spring 1984): 19-38. Madden, Thomas. A New Concise History of the Crusades. Lanham, MD: Rowman and Littlefield Publishers, 2006. Maritain, Jacques. Man and the State. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1951. Makdisi, George. “The Marriage of Tughril Beg.” International Journal of Middle East Studies 1 no. 3 (July, 1970): 259-275. Mayer, Hans Eberhard. The Crusades. Oxford, NY: Oxford University Press, 1990. Mecit, Songül. “Kingship and Ideology under the Rum Seljuqs.” In The Seljuqs: Politics, Society, and Culture, edited by Christian Lange and Songül Mecit, 63-78. Edinburgh, UK: Edinburgh University Press, 2011. Mir, Mustansir. “Jihad in Islam.” In The Jihad and Its Times, edited by Hadia Dajani- Shakeel and Ronald A. Messier, 113-126. Ann Arbor, MI: University of Michigan Press, 1991. 144

Mogahadam, Assaf. “Mayhem, Myths, and Martyrdom: The Shi’a Conception of Jihad.” Jihad, Terrorism and Political Violence, 19, no. 1 (February 2007): 125-143. Mottahedeh, Roy Parviz. Loyalty and Leadership in an Early Islamic Society. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1980. ——— and Ridwan al-Sayyid. “The Idea of the jihad in Islam before the Crusades.” In The Crusades from the Perspective of Byzantium and the Muslim World, edited by Angeliki E. Laiou and Roy Parviz Mottahedeh, 23-29. Washington, D.C.: Harvard University Press, 2001. Mourad, Suleiman A. and James E. Lindsay. “Ibn ‘Asakir and the Intensification and Reorientation of Sunni Jihad Ideology in Crusader-Era Syria.” In Just Wars, Holy Wars, and Jihads, edited by Sohail H. Hashmi, 107-124. Oxford, NY: Oxford University Press, 2012. ———. The Intensification and Reorientation of Sunni Jihad Ideology in the Crusader Period: Ibn ‘Asakir of Damascus (1105-1176) and His Age, with an Edition and Translation of Ibn ‘Asakir’s The Forty Hadiths for Inciting Jihad. Leiden, NL: Brill, 2002. Nicholson, Robert L. “The Growth of the Latin States, 1118-1144.” In A History of the Crusades: The First Hundred Years, edited by Kenneth M. Setton, 410-448. Madison, WI: Wisconsin University Press, 1969.

Richard, Jean. The Crusades c. 1071-1291. Cambridge, NY: Cambridge University Press, 1999.

Riley-Smith, Jonathan. The First Crusaders, 1095-1131. Cambridge, NY: Cambridge University Press, 1997. ———. The First Crusade and the Idea of Crusading. London, UK: The Athlone Press, 1986. ———. The Crusades: A History. Cambridge, NY: Cambridge University Press, 1999.

Runciman, Steven. A History of The Crusades: The First Crusade and the Foundation of the Kingdom of Jerusalem. London, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1994. ———. A History of The Crusades: The Kingdom of Jerusalem and the Frankish East 1100-1187. London, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1994. Russell, Frederick H. The Just War in the Middle Ages. Cambridge, MA: Cambridge University Press, 1975.

Safi, Omid. The Politics of Knowledge in Premodern Islam: Negotiating Ideology and Religious Inquiry. Chapel Hill, N.C.: North Carolina University Press, 2006. 145

Segal, J. B. Edessa 'the Blessed City'. Oxford, NY: Clarendon Press, 1970.

Peacock, A.C.S. Early Seljuq History: A New Interpretation. New York, NY: Routledge, 2010.

———. “Seljuq legitimacy in Islamic History.” In The Seljuqs: Politics, Society, and Culture, edited by Christian Lange and Songül Mecit, 79-98. Edinburgh, UK: Edinburgh University Press, 2011.

Peters, Rudolph. “‘Introduction’ to “The Prophet’s Lessons on Conduct in War: Hadiths on Jihad form the Ṣahih of Muslim ibn Hajjaj.” In Jihad in Classical and Modern Islam: A Reader, edited by Rudolph Peters, 9-10. Princeton, N.J.: Markus Wiener Publishers, 1996.

———. “Jihad: An Introduction.” In The Legacy of Jihad, edited by Andrew Bostom, 320-325. Amherst, NY: Prometheus Press, 2005.

———. Jihad in Classical and Modern Islam: A Reader. Princeton, NJ: Markus Wiener Publishers, 2005.

Phillips, Jonathan and Martin Hoch. “Introduction: The Second Crusade in History and Research.” In The Second Crusade: Scopes and Consequences, edited by Jonathan Phillips and Martin Hoch, 1-12. Manchester, UK: Manchester University Press, 2001.

Tor, Deborah. “Privatized Jihad and Public Order in the Pre-Seljuq Period: The Role of the Mutatawwi’a,” Iranian Studies 38, no. 4 (December 2005): 555-573.

———. “‘Sovereign and Pious’: Religious life of the Great Saljuq Sultans.” In The Seljuqs: Politics, Society and Culture, edited by Christian Lange and Songül Mecit, 39-62. Edinburgh, UK: Edinburgh University Press, 2011.

Tyerman, Christopher. Fighting for Christendom: Holy War and the Crusades. Oxford, NY: Oxford University Press, 2004. ———. God's War: A New History of the Crusades. Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2006. Watt, H. Montgomery. “Islamic Conceptions of Holy War.” In The Holy War, edited by Thomas Patrick Murphy, 141-156. Columbus, OH: Ohio State University Press, 1976.

146

147

148

149

150