It’s been a while since we had one of my source translations, and there’ve been a lot of photos of Scottish castles in poor weather just lately, so by way of the now-legendary "something completely different", let’s do some source stuff for a change. My candidate today, however, is a bit of a mystery and that needs explaining first.
So, in 1983 the immensely learned and influential Catalan palaeographer and liturgist, as well as sometime monk, Anscari Mundó, published a short paper about the handwriting used in early medieval documents from the Iberian Peninsula in a birthday volume for his colleague Manuel Cecilio Díaz.1 He used quite a range of examples, all given in tiny photographs, but among them were two previously unpublished pieces from the Archivo de la Corona d’Aragón which Mundó thought were letters from the (secretariat of) the Umayyad caliph in Córdoba to the count of Barcelona. For Mundó’s immediate purposes they served as almost the only known example of Latin handwriting in the Muslim part of the Peninsula which survives, but he was not blind to the fact that such a piece of diplomatic correspondence might be quite a big deal, and in a note he explained that he would give no further details right now, because he was imminently going to publish these documents separately.2 And fair enough, except that publication never came. Even at Mundó’s death in 2012, the documents remained unpublished and, more importantly, since he had given no archival reference, inaccessible to anyone else. My personal belief, having dealt with the Archivo a bit, is that he found them in some documents yet to be filed, and then they got filed while he was away and no-one could tell him where, or else the stack got moved or something like that. Anyway, I assume it wasn’t for want of trying that he never managed it.
So what was to be done? In 1990, Roger Collins, himself now publishing on literacy and writing in the Peninsula, expressed his frustration with Mundó’s apparent secrecy and somehow, with a really powerful magnifying glass or something, went over one of Mundó’s inch-and-a-bit facsimiles (the other was either not photographed or was even smaller, I don’t remember—long long time since I saw it!) to get all the text he could out of it. From this he concluded, firstly, that the document in the photograph had been addressed to two counts of Barcelona, which dated it pretty closely to the years 947 to 966 CE, when my man Count-Marquis Borrell II was ruling jointly with his brother Miró III, and secondly that since these men were addressed as "brothers", it was unlikely in the extreme that the document was in the voice of the caliph (who would have been either the somewhat terrifying ‘Abd al-Raḥmān III al-Naṣir (r. 912-961, caliph from 928) or his more severe son al-Hakam II (r. 961-976)), and it was more likely to have been sent by a Cordoban Christian dignitary of some kind.3 And there things rested until this happened.
The now-completed Catalunya Carolíngia project, without which I could never have done my PhD or therefore had my career, took a long time to get round to the archives covering Barcelona, but part of the reason for that was their exhaustive searching of them, including the Archivo de la Corona de Aragón. Still, I personally hadn’t dared expect that one of the things they’d come up with was this lost letter, and so I was very excited to find it was there, as no. 393 in Barcelona part 1.4 Mundó is finally absolved and Collins has his text! Except that it’s not that document. Remember that Mundó had found two? Well, this is the other one, and reading it proves Mundó right and Collins, if not wrong, at least not right about this. And of course, the editors maybe should have realised which one they were looking at. None of the text that Collins saw in that photograph, importantly including the salutation to plural counts as brothers, is in this text, which implies that that document is yet to be found. But what is is actually much more interesting, although, inevitably, the document is defective… I suspect it has only survived because of being binding or wrappings for something else. So here we go with what is left.5
… Córdoba. And the same man is my messenger and his name is ‘Abd Allāh ibn al-Qumis, who is called ‘count’, and he is out of all these messengers our private minister, which they will tell you [singular] and indicate to you from their mouths. But give them your ear and your attention to their speeches and apply yourself to understanding them. And place your trust in everything which they report to you, lord [Lenr]et. And once [you have], in the same hour send to me that old man Guitard Arnau without any companion. God, God considers you, so give you no order or pact or guidance or promise until he return to you… predominantly your case. You, moreover, will know for certain […]
… [and] if it is allowed to […] this case in the Christian faith and how it [should?] fall […] into the cursed Jewish faith. Nevertheless, consider and act sen[…] and then you will see the glory of your God in all your cases […]
And that’s all folks, not all he wrote, obviously, but all we have. And, as I say, it has no overlap at all with the text Collins pieced together and is definitely addressed to a single recipient, whose name could apparently be mangled as "Lenret", with the first four letters dubious. I don’t feel as if "Borrel" is too much of a stretch there, not least because whoever it is has to be contemporary with Guitard Arnau, who is probably Viscount Guitard of Barcelona (r. 974-985), because Guitard went to Córdoba as Borrell’s envoy in 974 and 976. That would tend to place this document in that bracket, and probably 975 since Guitard was already familiar to the writer, rather than the Borrell-and-Miró-based dating of 950-957 the editors have given it (thinking, I guess, without reading their own text, that they were dealing with the document to the brothers that Mundó, and Collins, who goes unacknowledged, had worked on).6 There are some problems there: Viscount Guitard is usually reckoned to be the son of Viscount Gombau, not Arnau, and would actually have been quite young at this point, and that makes me wonder if the Guitard who went to Córdoba, otherwise only attested (as ‘lord of the city of Barcelona’ and Borrell’s ‘vicar’) by the eleventh-century historian Ibn Hayyān, albeit with apparent access to the court records, was actually someone else, or if our dubious grip on Viscount Gombau is actually somehow mistaken.
However, all that is really down in the weeds. What was actually going on here? It’s hard to say, but it seems like the following are halfway safe deductions.
- The person receiving this letter had sought an intervention from an authority in Córdoba who had a Christian count as one of his privy counsellors; it seems really difficult to imagine anyone other than the caliph in that position, so the letter really is from him, presumably via a secretary such as we know the ninth-century emirs used.7
- The issue about which Borrell (let’s say it’s Borrell) had consulted was one which could potentially be judged by Jewish or by Christian authorities, and the caliph was apparently going to have to decide which. We can’t go any further but I’m reminded of the ninth-century exile convert to Judaism, Bodo who became Eleazar, and wonder if some similar religious switch was part of the problem.8
- However, the issue was apparently one about which Borrell might have been able to take local action; we can see that because the caliph is keen to forbid him that possibility. If you submit to caliphal jurisdiction, you gotta submit.
- The demand for Guitard to be sent is part of that strategy; not only can Borrell not act without caliphal approval here, he is also going to be told what to do by one of his subordinates, without anyone else knowing whether what Guitard advises is what the caliph ordered. Given the later persistent conflict between viscounts and counts of Barcelona, I see a divide-and-rule strategy here in which Borrell’s independence is compromised by the equivalent of having a British Resident in his palace, or a Communist political officer if you’d rather, someone who can countermand him from below in any case.
So there’s actually quite lot here of interest. In the first place we see a strong caliphal hand in diplomacy, although also that (unless it was in a lost bit of the text) there isn’t much actual sanction the caliph can deploy against Borrell short of actually sending an army, which might be excessive; this moment of weakness however affords a lever with which the caliph tries to fracture Borrell’s authority. In the second place, against the increasingly common complaint that despite the tenth-century caliphate’s famous or infamous reputation for interreligious tolerance, we only actually know of one prominent non-Muslim courtier at Córdoba for the whole tenth century, the uniquely qualified Hasdai ibn Shaprut, here is another, an Arabicised but presumably Christian count of Córdoba, one of the caliph’s key confidants.9 (As well as whoever wrote this letter, I suppose.) So that’s a bit of evidence for the convivencia supporters. And we see the caliph arbitrating between the Peoples of the Book as we would expect, and so on.10
But for me most important, I think this is the only information we have about what the several submissions to Córdoba which Borrell made over the course of his career actually involved, beyond sending very expensive gifts. In 940, just after raiding Saragossa, his father Sunyer had been made (by Hasdai, no less) to swear off a marriage alliance with Pamplona and any kind of Christian cooperation north of the caliphate’s borders, but what the later submissions cost Borrell has only ever been guesswork; it doesn’t seem to have been military service, tribute or anything like that.11 And I think this letter supports that: it fits into a context where the default relationship was detachment, to the point where when an intervention was requested by the supposed subject, the price for it would have to be negotiated individually, under some vague shadow of threat that the caliph was actually not well-placed to carry out. And yet it doesn’t appear that Borrell’s position here was the strong one. I do wonder what was going on. But now, so can you, and of course I’d love to hear your guesses…
1. Anscari M. Mundó Marcet, "Notas para la historia de la escritura visigótica en su período primitivo" in Bivium: homenaje a Manuel Cecilio Díaz y Díaz (Barcelona 1983), pp. 175–196.
2. Mundó, "Notas para la historia de la escritura visigótica", p. 187 & n. 6.
3. Roger Collins, “Literacy and the laity in early mediaeval Spain” in Rosamond McKitterick (ed.), Uses of Literacy in Mediaeval Europe (Cambridge 1990), pp. 109-133 at pp. 112-113.
4. Ignasi J. Baiges i Jardí and Pere Puig i Ustrell (edd.), Catalunya carolíngia Volum VII: el comtat de Barcelona, Memòries de la Secció Històrica-Arqueològica 110 (Barcelona 2019), 3 vols, vol. I no. 393, with an online version here.
5. Usually I’d provide a Latin text here as well, but since there is now the CatCar database, at last, as cited above, I don’t have to. Phew!
6. Baiges & Puig, Catalunya carolíngia VII, vol. I p. 410. For Guitard see José Enrique Ruiz-Domènec, Quan els vescomtes de Barcelona eren: història, crònica i documents d’una familia catalana dels segles X, XI i XII, Textos y documents 39 (Barcelona 2006), online here, pp. 23-41.
7. We even have the somewhat sideways testimony of one of those secretaries, Samson of Córdoba, that he did such work, in "Samsonis apologeticum contra perfidos", ed. Joan Gil in I. Gil (ed.), Corpvs Scriptorvm Mvzarabicorvm, Manuales y Anejos de «Emerita» XXVIII (Madrid 1973), 2 vols, vol. II pp. 505-658 at II.Præf.9. Samson even mentions someone, Servandus, in the office of Count of Córdoba. Given that the rôle fairly clearly involved office within the Christian community, it seems overridingly likely that a Christian held it, despite the tenth-century incumbent’s name, but then, Samson had contemporaries who complained about Arabicization among the Christian community and we have a few Arabic Bibles; see Hanna E. Kassis, "The Arabicization and Islamization of the Christians of al-Andalus: evidence of their scriptures" in Ross Brann (ed.), Languages of Power in Islamic Spain, Department of Near Eastern Studies and the Program of Jewish Studies, Cornell University, 3 (Bethesda MD 1997), pp. 136–155. That would all matter less had arguments about the speed and extent of conversion not been hung on such changes of name… For critique, see Alwyn Harrison, "Behind the Curve: Bulliet and Conversion to Islam in al-Andalus Revisited" in al-Masāq: Journal of the Medieval Mediterranean Vol. 24 (Abingdon 2012), pp. 35–51, DOI: 10.1080/09503110.2012.655582; for a reply to criticisms like that by the originator of the arguments, see Richard W. Bulliet, "The Conversion Curve Revisited" in A. C. S. Peacock (ed.), Islamisation: Comparative Perspectives from History (Edinburgh 2017), pp. 1–11, on Academia.edu here.
8. On this intriguing story see Frank Riess, "From Aachen to Al-Andalus: the journey of Deacon Bodo (823–76)" in Early Medieval Europe Vol. 13 (Oxford 2005), pp. 131–157.
9. The best general statement of the case about Hasdai ibn Shaprut, by which I mean it contains all the usual claims but doesn’t go beyond them, is probably Jesús Peláez del Rosal, "Hasdai Ibn Shaprut in the Court of Abd ar-Rahman III", transl. Patricia A. Sneesby, in Peláez (ed.), The Jews in Cordoba (X-XII centuries), Studies in Hebrew Culture 1 (Córdoba 1987), pp. 61–77. Sadly, the case is usually made instead from Eliyahu Ashtor, The Jews of Moslem Spain, trans. Aaron Klein and Jenny Machlowitz Klein (Philadelphia PA 1973), 3 vols, which for all its manifold virtues, in its forty-odd pages on Hasdai goes mostly without evidence or citation. On its limits, see Danica Johnson, "A Reassessment of Scholarship: Hasdai ibn Shaprut", unpublished MA dissertation, University of Leeds, Leeds, 2021, but as Johnson and I found (and hope someday to publish), most of what can be relied upon in Ashtor came ultimately from Philoxène Luzzatto, Notice sur Abou-Iousouf Hasdaï Ibn-Schaprout, médecin juif du dixième siècle, ministre des khalifes omeyyades d’Espagne `Abd-al-Rahman III et Al-Hakem II, et promoteur de la littérature juive en Europe (Paris 1852), online here and almost the only person ever to write about Hasdai with primary citation. On Hasdai’s questionable representativeness see Jonathan P. Decter, "Before Caliphs and Kings: Jewish Courtiers in Medieval Iberia" in Jonathan Ray (ed.), The Jew in Medieval Iberia, 1100-1500 (Boston MA 2012), pp. 1–32, or less sweepingly David J. Wasserstein, "Jewish Élites in al-Andalus" in Daniel H. Frank (ed.), The Jews of Medieval Islam: Community, Society and Identity, Études sur le Judaïsme médiéval 16 (Leiden 1995), pp. 101–110.
10. On this see most recently David J. Wasserstein, "Christians, Jews and the Dhimma Status" in Maribel Fierro (ed.), The Routledge Handbook of Muslim Iberia (Abingdon 2020), pp. 208–227.
11. The 940 treaty is recorded by Ibn Hayyān in an extract printed in English in Olivia Remie Constable (ed.), Medieval Iberia: Readings from Christian, Muslim, and Jewish Sources, 1st edn (Philadelphia PA 1997), no. 13B; it is presumably also in the 2nd edn but I don’t have that available to check. There is a short discussion of it in Philippe Sénac, "Una expedició de la marina califal" in Josep Maria Salrach (ed.), La formació de la societat feudal, segles VI-XII, Història política, societat i cultura dels Països Catalans 2, 2nd edn (Barcelona 2001), pp. 326–327. On the diplomatic context more widely see Sénac, "Note sur les relations diplomatiques entre les comtes de Barcelone et le califat de Cordoue au Xe siècle" in Sénac (ed.), Histoire et archéologie des terres catalanes au moyen âge (Perpignan 1995), pp. 87–101, online here.