Fatih Zengin
Fatal Divisions: From Andalusia to the Central Islamic Lands
History often repeats itself because all human virtues and weaknesses remain the same across every age. The crises that the Islamic world has faced in the last century are not unprecedented; they have occurred before, and their consequences have been borne. Divisions among Muslims over language, sect, and lineage, along with structures that provoke these conflicts, selfishness, and various other factors, are well-documented patterns in history. Yesterday, it was Andalusia; today, other Islamic territories are experiencing comparable fates. Without learning lessons, history will inevitably repeat itself.
The tragic fate of Andalusia, the jewel of the Islamic West, continues to haunt the conscience of Muslims worldwide, even centuries later. Was this impending catastrophe an unavoidable disaster, or was it a calamity invited by the Muslims of Andalusia themselves? Every state, of course, eventually loses vitality, becomes dysfunctional, and disappears. But can the same be said for societies? Societies often outlive states, sometimes enduring for centuries longer.
In the Central Islamic Lands—what some refer to as the Middle East—communities that date back to ancient times continue to survive. What set Andalusia apart was this: Andalusian society, alongside its states, was almost entirely wiped off the Iberian Peninsula.
Yes, the Muslims of Andalusia established many states and ruled for centuries. Like all states, these too fell. However, as these states collapsed, the society had already become so fragmented and divided that a once brilliant and thriving civilization—leaving behind remarkable intellectual achievements, architecture, and works of art—disappeared from the Iberian Peninsula without a trace. How did this happen? Why did the Andalusian Muslim society vanish entirely as a human community?
In 712, Andalusia came under Muslim rule through the leadership of Musa ibn Nusayr, the Umayyad governor, and Tariq ibn Ziyad, the Berber commander. In a short period, the entire region—except for the northern Castile-Aragon Kingdom—became a province of the Umayyad State. After the fall of the Umayyad State in Damascus in 750, Abdurrahman ibn Muawiya, who fled to Andalusia, successfully established a new Umayyad state there. This state, which endured ups and downs until 1031, marked Andalusia’s golden age.
However, with the collapse of the Andalusian Umayyad State, each city—and in some cases, even individual fortresses—began to act independently. Although unity was temporarily restored through the intervention of North African powers such as the Almoravids and Almohads, these efforts ultimately proved unsustainable.
While many reasons can be cited for the deadly struggles among the remnants of the Andalusian Umayyad State, the root cause was their ethnic divisions. The armies that had conquered Andalusia included both Berbers and Arabs. From the early years, conflicts arose over the distribution of newly conquered lands, and while a fragile balance was eventually achieved after a series of wars, the hostility between these two groups never truly ended. It was merely concealed during the golden years of the Andalusian Umayyad State.
Over time, new social classes emerged in Andalusia under Muslim rule, such as the Muwallads and the Saqaliba. The Muwallads were the native population who had converted to Islam, while the Saqaliba were Slavic slaves captured during wars. Eventually, both groups became integral components of Andalusian Islamic society. While this diversity posed no threat during periods of strong central governance and capable leadership, it led to chaos during times of weakness. This chaos was fueled by ambitions to protect one’s group, elevate political and economic power, and claim superiority over others.
Despite all these internal conflicts, Andalusian society might not have faced extinction had it not been for an external enemy driven by the dream of Reconquista—the reconquest of Spain. Although Muslims had been present in Andalusia for centuries, a significant Christian population still remained, quietly waiting for the opportunity to reclaim their lands.
More concerning was the northern region of León and Galicia, which had never been conquered. The Kingdom of Castile turned this region into the center of the Reconquista. Beginning in 1057—just 26 years after the fall of the Andalusian Umayyad State—Castile began its systematic conquest of Muslim territories.
But no one can wake those who refuse to awaken. As the Spanish Reconquista began, Andalusian cities were locked in bitter conflicts, each pursuing its own interests. There was no sign of a solution: the Berbers refused to submit to the Arabs, and the Arabs refused to yield to the Berbers. Meanwhile, Arab tribes clashed among themselves, as did the Berber tribes.
Some of the conflicts among the Andalusian emirates arose from competition over trade routes and economic dominance. Local rulers of prosperous regions fought for control over fertile lands and lucrative trade routes, resulting in constant clashes. Rather than strengthening their economies, these wars devastated cities that had been known for their prosperity and wealth.
In summary, the fragmentation among the Andalusian emirates resulted from a combination of weak central authority, internal administrative and sectarian conflicts, ethnic and social divisions, and external pressures. These factors collectively weakened Andalusia and paved the way for the Christian conquest of the region.
After the collapse of the Ottoman Empire, Muslims in the Central Islamic Lands became like orphaned children without protectors. It did not take long for Western powers, ideologies, and colonialists—who claimed they would care for them—to establish themselves in the heart of the Islamic world. The plans made before the Ottoman collapse were executed one by one.
It was as though the Reconquista once applied to Iberia was now being imposed on the Ottoman territories. Small Muslim states were established, resembling the city-states of Andalusia. Like their Andalusian predecessors, these states were consumed by self-interest, clashing with their neighbors and even their own people. The only difference was that these modern states controlled larger territories.
Modern states, like the Andalusian emirates, ignored the looming danger for too long. Some even collaborated with the very forces that posed the greatest threat. Similarly, some Andalusian emirates pledged not to oppose the Christians in exchange for their own survival. The similarities are striking, and the risk of a similar fate is very real.
However, the limited impact of such calculations on the broader Muslim society gives reason for hope. Despite the crises of recent years, developments in the Islamic world indicate that Muslims are rejecting the roles assigned to them and refusing to relive the sorrow of a new Andalusia.
The rise of mass communication has enabled Muslim societies to be more aware of one another. Whenever a threat arises against Muslims anywhere in the world, their response is now faster and louder. If we can better convey the lessons of Andalusia to future generations, resolve our differences calmly, and utilize modern tools effectively, we can prevent a Neo-Reconquista before it is too late.
Because once Toledo fell, it was already too late.