Response to Noreña: Comments from a Historian of Islamic Iberia JANINA SAFRAN Penn State University [email protected] Carlos Noreña describes how Segobriga, a town in central Spain, an im- perial backwater, became Romanized in the first century of the Common Era—some two centuries after central Spain was incorporated into the Roman empire. Evidence for this Romanization includes monumental construction and public space (forum, theater, amphitheater, temples, bath complex), increasingly Roman coinage, and adoption of the Roman “epigraphic habit.” Noreña argues that the material transformation of Segobriga marked and informed the development of a Roman political- cultural habitus. Romanization did not simply coincide with the shift from republican to monarchic government in Rome but was defined by it; indeed, similar changes occurred in other provincial regions. The Ro- man shift to a monarchic system wrought significant cultural change for two reasons: the motivation of local elites to adopt the “Roman cultural package” in order to promote their own status, prestige, and authority; and monarchy’s symbolic “glue.” I have been invited to address Noreña’s essay from the perspective of my field: Islamic History. My research area is al-Andalus (Islamic Iberia) and the Maghrib (western North Africa). There are a number of ways to engage with this conceptually exciting argument. To begin, as a way to facilitate comparative discussion, I would like to first draw attention to three parallels: between the concept of the “Roman city” and the “Islamic city,” between concepts of Romanization and Islamization, and between Noreña’s analysis of Segobriga and Chase Robinson’s analysis of Mosul. I would like to suggest ways in which Noreña’s argument for the “sticki- ness” of monarchy is born out in the context of medieval Islamic history and consider ways in which comparative analysis can open up productive avenues of inquiry. Noreña has an archetypical Roman city in mind when he describes the transformation of Segobriga in the first century of the Common Era. He describes a “more or less standard urban ‘kit’” and relates its elements (including forum, basilica, curia, temples, baths, theaters and amphithe- aters, and an axial road system) to underlying principles of “symmetry, axiality, verticality, the intertwining of sacred and political space, the function of a central square as a site of aristocratic display, and the ar- Fragments Volume 8 (2019) 48 SAFRAN: Response to Noreña chitectural and visual prominence of buildings designed for urban leisure and sociability” (5–6). Scholars of Islamic urban history debate about the value and meaning of a parallel archetype of the “Islamic city.” Concerned about Orientalizing typologies that teleologically oppose “Western” and “Eastern,” “European” and “Islamic,” they ask: Are there essential differences between Roman and Islamic cities or does the question result in essentializing categories? Janet Abu Lughod wrote a trenchant summation and critique of the histo- riography of Islamic cities in 1987, exposing, among other things, how two lines (she characterizes as “isnads”) of historiography have generalized about the “Islamic city” on the basis of “tentative, place-specific com- ments and descriptions” of a few North African cities (most notably Fez) on the one hand, or on the basis of Damascus and Aleppo, on the other. Abu Lughod does not dismiss the question of whether or not there is an “Islamic city,” but argues for a turn away from an emphasis on isolated monumental constructions such as congregational mosques and madrasas toward an examination of the lived city. Reflecting on cities she studied in the past and her experience of contemporary cities, she argues that a decentralized, neighborly mode of urban governance, a legal system that favored litigation between neighbors about matters of privacy rather than the privileging of public space, and a concern for the seclusion of women, made cities in the Islamic world distinctive. Looking at cities as lived spaces, she provides a counterpoint to what she sees as a more static focus on the monuments of great patrons.1 Noreña’s essay is not simply concerned with categories but with pro- cesses. He investigates how and why Segobriga became Romanized and centers his attention on the role of local elites. The elites of Segobriga commanded wealth and sought to maintain and enhance their prestige; they had connections to the imperial Roman governing class and embraced Roman culture for instrumental purposes. Is there a correspondence be- tween the concept of “Romanization” and the concept of “Islamization?” The Islamic conquests of the seventh and early eighth centuries, under the aegis of the first four caliphs (632–661 CE) and the Umayyads (661–750 CE), created a vast territorial empire, diverse in all the ways Noreña describes the Roman empire. Islamic rule transformed cities and towns and shaped the development of new settlements. Islamic historians have been interested in the ways in which a universally coherent and locally meaningful Islamic culture, broadly understood, as Noreña articulates, as a “complex of objects, practices, and beliefs characteristic of those who see themselves as belonging to a more or less coherent group,” achieved currency in the first centuries after the conquests. Scholars are interested in how caliphal/Islamic cultures maintained their “stickiness” (to employ the “glue” metaphor) after the decentralization and political fragmentation Fragments Volume 8 (2019) 49 SAFRAN: Response to Noreña of the (Abbasid) Islamic empire beginning in the early ninth century. Who were the agents of “Islamization” and what were the processes? Chase Robinson’s history of Mosul resonates with Noreña’s history of Segobriga in the way Robinson relates a similar connection between elite patronage, construction, and culture in the early Islamic context.2 Mosul was remote from the Syrian center of power of the Umayyad caliphate, but was not, like Segobriga, in an agriculturally poor region. The pres- ence of members of the imperial family in Mosul, too, marks a significant difference from Segobriga; this difference is relevant to Noreña’s specific argument about Segobriga’s exceptionalism, but what stands out in the two cases is a common enactment and materialization of empire in a specific locale. Marwanid Umayyads, acting as governors in the late seventh and early eighth century, transformed Mosul from a garrison city like Kufa (Mosul was originally settled by Kufans) into an Umayyad demesne and “imperial” city. Robinson describes the material changes to the city: the Marwanids built walls, paved streets, built canals, erected bridges, con- structed and renovated mosques, established baths, and built an impres- sive palace. He writes: The Kufan pattern of settlement, consisting of mosque and dar al-imara, [gov- ernor’s palace] was overshadowed by a Marwanid foundation, which featured a new and more ambitious language of elite legitimization: building on a large scale made Marwanid rule public (and impressively so) not simply because the Marwanids outbuilt the Kufans, but because their building was so expensive and ostentatious: the Manqusha palace replaced the dar al-imara in administrative terms, but it also reflected a new rhetoric of rule. The Marwanids, lacking both conquest experience and local roots, came to rule more regio, to consume and patronize, to acquire and display wealth.3 Robinson argues that Marwanid development of Mesopotamia, and Mosul, more particularly, conformed to a pattern. In Mesopotamia, as in Syria and Palestine, Marwanids supported elite compounds (qasrs) and hydraulic works dedicated to agricultural production. He observes of the physical development of the city: “several ingredients of nascent Mosuli urbanism are as strikingly Syro-Byzantine as they are anomalous within the early Islamic building traditions of Iraq,” and continues, “. insofar as Marwanid building was elite driven, we might expect a consistency of forms and styles, particularly since labor could move between Iraq and Syria. In short, history would make Mosul an Iraqi city but Marwanid rule in the city was in large part about making it Syrian.”4 The establishment of Umayyad rule in al-Andalus is described by con- temporary sources in terms of Syrian models and linkages – the peninsula is “made Syrian” imaginatively even if monumental structures, institu- tions, and historical narratives are also informed by contingent needs and practices and local models. Noreña’s essay draws attention to the way Fragments Volume 8 (2019) 50 SAFRAN: Response to Noreña legitimate power is imagined and enacted in terms of an original imperial center and developed dynamically by local elites in touch with the center and with elites in other Romanizing sites. In the Islamic context, we find examples of the persistent symbolic significance of allegiance to the caliph- ate, even when the bonds of allegiance between local and imperial elites were no longer active. In the history of al-Andalus and the far Maghrib, Umayyad rulers expressed their legitimacy in terms of dynastic lineage, looking back to the third caliph, Uthman, and the Umayyad caliphate in Syria. Before the eighth Umayyad ruler of al-Andalus, `Abd al-Rahman (III) al-Nasir li-Din Allah, declared himself caliph, the Umayyads of Cor- doba ruled “as if” the Umayyad caliphate still existed, neither claiming the caliphal title nor acknowledging Abbasid legitimacy. After Umayyad rule in Iberia collapsed in civil