Architects of Civilisation Sallahuddin Ayubi by Asadullah Ali Al-Andalusi Waves of chatter and bustling flood the dusty alleyways of a small desert market on the outskirts of Damascus, making the details of every little activity undiscernible to even the most focussed eyes and ears. Women speak strongly over the noise as they negotiate with merchants over spices and kitchen wear. Children run between legs, chasing one another frantically to cure the boredom of their parent’s business matters. An entire hive of human interaction assimilates itself into one place; an organized chaos of daily life, only drowned out five times each day, for a fraction of a moment, by the call to prayer echoed through the nearby mosque’s speaker system. A whistle is heard above; a new sound not heard before. Everyone stops and searches for its source, looking in all directions. Merchants forget the prices they were negotiating and customers forget what they’re buying. Children stop running, drawing closer to a nearby stranger’s legs as though to find shelter from the mysterious piercing noise in their ears. The call to prayer continues, but is now muffled and buried. An older woman’s scream resonates in the distance, but is heard well enough to signal the warning. The masses within the financial district begin to scurry, suffocating as they struggle to draw breathe against their shock. But before they can comprehend the reality of their fear, it’s too late. A flash of light erupts, painting the dimmed alleyway like a blinding star, and the ground shakes as it’s torn apart by a deafening blow; pieces of earth flying in every direction, through anything and everything. Drums explode and silence takes over – all that is left is the sight of bodies and their parts strewn about the ruins of a once thriving civilization. Hundreds of lives have been taken, families have been destroyed, and an entire world obliterated within a few seconds. All of this because the government of these people assumed there to be rebels in their ranks and wanted to present a show of force through the dropping of bombs – collateral damage is not an issue, but a necessity. This scene is not one of imagination, but a daily reality in contemporary Syria, as the government of Bashar Assad relentlessly strikes the heart of civilian centres throughout the country, attempting to weed out rebel elements who have declared war on oppression and despotism. Not far to the south, in neighbouring Iraq, a similar situation is occurring as a newly found Khawarij state rampages across the land, beheading and enslaving all in their path. And further to the North, a desperate Kurdish nation still struggles to gain territorial independence from the former Ottoman Empire – now the Republic of Turkey – fighting a 1 war on two fronts as the Turkish government bombs from the North, and the aforementioned Iraqi extremists try to take advantage of the situation through the southern border. Not only is the contemporary Arab-Muslim world in a state of disunity, but like a cancer within the body, civil war is rampant and has yet to be exhausted. However, the Muslim world was much different several centuries prior. While the ummah has never been in perfect harmony – always having to deal with dissent and power struggles – peace and unity were often the end results of temporal conflicts, and the chaos that pervades in the contemporary era would have normally been unheard of. Dynasties fell, whole civilizations often with them, but replacements tended to fill the void, marking their place in history by changing its course. These individuals were often referred to as mujaddidin, or revivers, according to a Prophetic narration: Abu Hurairah narrated that the Prophet Muhammad (sallAllahu alayhi wasallam) said, “Allah shall raise for this Ummah at the head of every century a man who shall renew (or revive) for it its religion.”1 Although this narration specifically mentions that there will be individuals who will revive the religion of Islam as a whole, many have interpreted this to mean only those aspects of the faith which are intellectual or spiritual, oftentimes neglecting the fact that it encompasses the political sphere of life as well. As such, many figures in Islamic history have been ignored as candidates for this prophecy. This is unfortunately not only a misrepresentation of the Islamic conception of history, but of Islam as well. Despite this, there is perhaps no better example of a reviver of Islam than the legendary Ṣalāḥuddīn Yūsuf ibn Ayyūb (d. 1193 C.E.); known to the West as Saladin, the famous Muslim general and king who successfully pushed back the invading Crusader forces, reclaimed the holy city of Jerusalem from Christendom, fought off cults of Assassins, and united the Muslim world both intellectually and politically for the first time in nearly a century since its disarray at the hands of warring factions and kingdoms. While there is little to no information on the early life of Ṣalāḥuddīn, there is a wealth of knowledge on the world which he would eventually be born and raised in to. Just forty years prior to his birth, the Muslim world was being invaded by Catholic Crusader forces seeking pilgrimage, glory, and most importantly, loot. Motivated by a new and powerful Pope – Urban II – hoping to consolidate power between the warring Christian factions and kingdoms within his reach, Christians sought to reclaim the Holy Land from the “infidel” by staging an unprovoked conquest. The final prize? Jerusalem, where Jesus Christ (as) was said to have been crucified and buried. The Crusaders took advantage of the fractured state of the Muslim world at the time, finally taking the Holy Land exclusively as their own. In their “religious fervour”, they made a spectacle of Jerusalem and Christian doctrine when they finally took the city, burning non- believers at the stake, beheading women, children, and the elderly, exiling Jews, Muslims, and Eastern Orthodox Christians alike, and destroying places of worship – the bodies were said to have filled the ground to such an extent that blood soaked the pants of the conquerors up to the knees. These events would not only serve as the context in which future generations 1 Sunan Abu Dawud, 37, #4278 2 of Muslims would live, but also colour the life of the young Ṣalāḥuddīn as well, who would be born in the city of Tikrit, Iraq, in a weakening Abbasid empire struggling to compete not only with foreign invaders, but a rising Muslim polity to the West – the Shi’a Fāṭimīd Dynasty of Egypt. Under the tutelage of his father, Najm al-Dīn Ayyūb (d. 1173) – the son of a Kurdish migrant, and the governor of Tikrit – and his uncle, the fearsome, temperamental, but often victorious Asad al-Dīn Shīrkūh (d. 1169), Ṣalāḥuddīn learned both the virtues of good governance and the glory of combat. However, his greatest icon of religious virtue was a young, but talented statesman by the name of Nūr al-Dīn (d. 1174), the son of Imad al-Dīn Zangī (d. 1146), the friend of his father. Many of the qualities and tactics that defined Nūr al-Dīn would later be adopted by Ṣalāḥuddīn himself: [Nūr al-Dīn] took on the role of holy warrior, aiming to finish his father’s work, building a Sunni state that would confront the Franks [Crusaders], retake Jerusalem and crush the European infidels. To do this he became a master of propaganda, employing several hundred scholars to produce poems, letters and book to sway public opinion. He knew the publicity value of his own personality carefully: austerity, low taxes, dedication to Islam, generosity, charity….He bought his own food and clothing rather than relying on servants, respected Islamic law without being a fanatic, and often risked his life in battle, always carrying two bows. There was no denying his commitment or his effectiveness.2 Eventually, Ṣalāḥuddīn’s father would become advisor to Nūr al-Dīn, after the latter’s eventual rise to power in Syria under the watchful eye of the Baghdad caliph, the Turkish al- Mustādī. Ṣalāḥuddīn himself would also rise to prominence, becoming equal to Nūr al-Dīn during the final campaign to overthrow the Shi’a caliphate in the West. With the Fāṭimīd dynasty losing ground to the Crusaders, under a naïve and inexperienced caliph of only 13 years of age named al-Adīd, there was little hope left for the Shi’a polity. This would eventually lead the Fāṭimīd vizier, Shawar, to beg Nūr al-Dīn for support. Little did the latter know that Shawar simply wanted to retain power, and was willing to take any measures necessary to rid himself of not only the invading Christian forces, but of the Sunni competition to the East. With a deal struck in Nūr al-Dīn’s favour, he led his forces towards Egypt, halting the Crusaders– however, very soon after, Shawar reconsolidated his powerbase, turning on Nūr al-Dīn and allying himself with his former enemies. None of this worked in his favour however, and simply instilled in the Sunni governor a taste for revenge and the future conquest of Egypt. This desire would eventually manifest itself several years later when Shīrkūh was ordered to muster up a formidable force to overpower the Fāṭimīds, with his nephew Ṣalāḥuddīn as his aid. Both of them took Egypt, and Shawar was executed by Ṣalāḥuddīn himself. With no-where left to turn, the young Shi’a caliph al-Adīd was forced to give the title – and power – of vizier to Shīrkūh who would shortly thereafter become ill and die, leaving the position open to 22 Man, J.