Historical Clusters
The first “proto-autobiographies” appear to have been composed in isolation from each other. Ḥunayn's ninth-century “Trials and Tribulations” account (translated in this volume) focuses on a defense of himself and his reputation against charges of iconoclasm; al-Muḥāsibī's spiritual manual, Kitāb al-Naṣā’iḥ (The Book of Advice), from the same century is significant primarily as a model for later writers assessing and evaluating their spiritual progress; and al-Tirmidhī's text (translated in this volume), Buduww sha’n abī ‘Abd Allāh (The Beginning of the Affair of Abū ‘Abd Allāh), consisting of a very brief life narrative accompanied by a series of dream accounts, seeks primarily to establish the spiritual authority and status of its author.[1]
If these earliest Arabic autobiographical writings seem to have been composed in isolation from one another, already by the tenth and early eleventh century, short autobiographies by the philosophers and physicians al-Rāzī, Ibn al-Haytham, Ibn Sīnā, and Ibn Riḍwān were circulating in well-known anthologies and would have been familiar to many scholars over a large geographic expanse. In the same period, the politically and polemically oriented autobiographies of Ibn Ḥawshab (d. 914) and Ja‘far al-Ḥājib (d. ca. 954) were circulating in Shi‘ite circles; these two texts survive only as fragments, but internal textual evidence indicates that the complete texts were of substantial length.
In the late eleventh and twelfth century, there appears to have been a flowering of autobiographical writing and personal record keeping, which, if these did not constitute full autobiographies as such, were widespread enough for biographers such as Yāqūt to draw on extensively in compiling their biographical dictionaries. Autobiographical writings by al-Dānī, al-Fārisī, al-Bayhaqī, Ibn Ma’mūn, Yāqūt himself, and others circulated in this manner. Two lengthy, independent autobiographies from the beginning of this period, those of Ibn Buluggīn and al-Ghazālī, were composed within a few years of each other (ca. 1095 and 1107), the former being a political family history in which the author's life occupies well over half the work and the second a systematically organized account of the author's spiritual crisis, exploration of differing schools of religious philosophy, and eventual acceptance of Sufi teachings. The life story of Samaw’al al-Maghribī (d. 1174), which recounts his conversion from Judaism to Islam and is attached to an anti-Jewish polemical treatise, also dates to this period.
In the late twelfth and early thirteenth century, there appears a cluster of distinctive and noteworthy autobiographical texts written by a group who lived in Damascus and Aleppo during and immediately after the time of Saladin, among whom we can establish a number of direct personal links:
- ‘Umāra al-Ḥakamī al-Yamanī (d. 1175), poet, diplomat, and historian executed by crucifixion for treason and/or heresy on the orders of Saladin;
- Usāma ibn Munqidh (d. 1188), nobleman who fought in the counter-Crusades as one of Saladin's commanders;
- ‘Imād al-Dīn al-Kātib al-Iṣfahānī (d. 1201), Saladin's personal secretary and later chronicler of his reign (selections translated in this volume);
- Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī (d. 1229), literary historian and prominent biographer who compiled an enormous biographical encyclopedia of literary figures, including several of his fellow autobiographers;[2]
- ‘Abd al-Laṭīf al-Baghdādī (d. 1231), prominent physician and teacher who met Saladin and was rewarded with a position and government stipend (autobiography translated in this volume);
- Ibn al-‘Adīm (d. 1262): prominent historian of Aleppo and personal friend of Yāqūt (autobiography translated in this volume);
- Abū Shāma (d. 1268), historian of Saladin's reign and dynasty (autobiography translated in this volume); and
- Sa‘d al-Dīn ibn Ḥamawiyya al-Juwaynī (d. 1276), military governor, historian, and finally Sufi mystic.[3]
Given their prominence and fame, this group of literati were well aware of one another's careers and writings; and, indeed, several of them met face-to-face. ‘Imād al-Dīn quotes from ‘Umāra's autobiography in his own work, Kharīdat al-Qaṣr (The Pearl of the Palace), referring to it as the book that ‘Umāra wrote (muṣannafuhu).[4] Although he cites primarily ‘Umāra's poetry, he presents the poems for the most part in the order in which they occur in ‘Umāra's autobiography, rather than in that of his dīwān (collected poems).[5] On one of his frequent trips to Cairo, ‘Imād al-Dīn actually had ‘Umāra's poetry recited to him by the son of Usāma ibn Munqidh, who had heard it from the poet himself—the poetry of one autobiographer recited to another autobiographer by the son of a third autobiographer![6] In addition, passages from Abū Shāma's historical work, Kitāb al-Rawḍatayn (The Book of the Two Gardens), the supplement to which includes his autobiography, seem to indicate a familiarity with both ‘Umāra's work[7] and Sa‘d al-Dīn Juwaynī. ‘Abd al-Laṭīf al-Baghdādī describes meeting ‘Imād al-Dīn al-Kātib al-Iṣfahānī in his autobiography, and Yāqūt personally commissioned the autobiography of his close friend, Ibn al-‘Adīm, for inclusion in his compendium.
The production of multiple autobiographical texts from this rather close-knit literary and scholarly group may have been prompted by these many personal connections, or the large number of autobiographies known from this period may only reflect the fact that it has been more intensely researched than most other periods of Islamic history. Another possibility, noted by Rosenthal, is that the tremendous political instability of the period may have helped to foster a fertile context for autobiographical production.[8]
As a result of the considerable attention devoted to the period of Saladin and the Crusades by both Arab and western historians, most of these texts are well known, commonly used as historical sources, and usually recognized and treated as autobiographies. Among them, however, the work of ‘Imād al-Dīn al-Kātib al-Iṣfahānī stands out, for it is ostensibly a biography of Saladin. Yet later Arab sources such as al-Suyūṭī and al-Sha‘rānī consistently refer to it as an autobiographical work.[9] They clearly assessed the work from its contents and not from the formal framing device of its title and dedication. Since ‘Imād al-Dīn wrote of himself extensively in this work, it was deemed an act of self-tarjama.
Two other historical clusters appear in Spain. The autobiographer Ibn Sa‘īd al-Maghribī (d. 1286) knew of the earlier autobiographical notices of Ibn al-Imām (d. 1155), al-Ḥijārī (d. 1155), and Ibn al-Qaṭṭā‘ (d. 1121).[10] Later, Lisān al-Dīn Ibn al-Khaṭīb (d. 1374) states that he saw and read the autograph copy of the eleventh-century autobiography of Ibn Buluggīn when he visited southern Morocco, where Ibn Buluggīn had died in exile, and then returned home to write his own autobiography. He might also have been familiar with the autobiography of Abū Ḥayyān al-Andalusī (d. 1344) who lived a generation earlier, the text of which—although now lost—achieved some fame in the late Middle Ages and was still being cited two centuries later by al-Suyūṭī and al-Sha‘rānī in Egypt as a lengthy autobiographical work; it was probably written during Abū Ḥayyān's sojourn in Egypt. Only a few years after Lisān al-Dīn ibn al-Khaṭīb wrote his text, the famous historiographer Ibn Khaldūn (d. 1406), whose family was originally from Spain, and who had met and worked with Ibn al-Khaṭīb in Spain in 1363, also wrote an autobiography.[11] It is clear that by the end of the fourteenth century there were numerous examples of independent, lengthy autobiographies circulating throughout the Arabic-speaking world.
A more tenuous, but still intriguing, connection lies in an encounter that took place between Ibn Khaldūn and Tamerlane (Timur-lenk) outside of Damascus in 1401. Ibn Khaldūn was trapped inside the city during Tamerlane's siege, but Tamerlane had heard of Ibn Khaldūn's presence and wished to meet him. Ibn Khaldūn describes in a dramatic scene in his autobiography being lowered over the city walls by rope in the middle of the night. Over a period of six weeks, the two met several times and discussed a variety of topics, including Ibn Khaldūn's life story, Tamerlane's genealogy and place in history, the kings of the ancient world, and the geography of the Maghreb. At Tamerlane's request, Ibn Khaldūn wrote out a great deal of information, including a book-length description of the Maghreb. Ibn Khaldūn was eventually released and allowed to return to Cairo.
It seems plausible that when Tamerlane questioned Ibn Khaldūn about his life, as they had discussed Ibn Khaldūn's other writings, Ibn Khaldūn may have mentioned that he had penned an account of it. And Ibn Khaldūn, as a historian, might well have asked whether an official biography (or autobiography) of Tamerlane was available, or in the process of being written, that he could consult. In any case, soon thereafter Ibn Khaldūn decided to expand his earlier autobiography so as to include his encounter with Tamerlane and republish it as an independent volume, for it had previously existed only as a chapter in a larger historical work.[12] An autobiography of Tamerlane also appeared and was for centuries accepted as authentic, although in recent decades most modern scholars have come to agree that it was probably created a century or more after Tamerlane's death and was perhaps written by one of his descendants.[13]
One of the largest clusters of texts is that associated with Ibn Ḥajar al-‘Asqalānī and his pupils. Ibn Ḥajar (d. 1449) wrote several brief autobiographies (one of which is translated in this volume). His student al-Sakhāwī (d. 1497) wrote a thirty-page autobiography that he included in his celebrated biographical compendium of the ninth Islamic century as well as an independent autobiography that remains in manuscript,[14] and two of al-Sakhāwī's students, Ibn Dayba‘ (d. 1537) and Zarrūq (d. 1493), each wrote autobiographies. Another of Ibn Ḥajar's students, al-Suyūṭī, wrote a substantial autobiography that was then emulated by Ibn Ṭūlūn al-Dimashqī (d. 1546) and al-Sha‘rānī (d. 1565). At more than seven hundred printed pages, al-Sha‘rānī's text is the longest premodern Arabic autobiography known to us. These texts circulated widely and were cited by later autobiographers as far afield as India (al-‘Aydarūs; d. 1628) and Morocco (Ibn ‘Ajība; d. 1809).
A later thread links members of Sufi circles in North Africa. Ibn al-‘Ajība (d. 1809) was familiar with the autobiographical works of al-‘Arabī al-Darqāwī (d. 1823),[15] Zarrūq (d. 1493), al-Sha‘rānī (d. 1565), and al-Yūsī (d. 1691). Still another cluster is found in the Shi‘ite community in Jabal ‘Āmil (now southern Lebanon) during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, including Zayn al-Dīn ibn ‘Alī al-‘Āmilī (d. 1558), his great-grandson, ‘Alī ibn Muḥammad al-‘Āmilī (d. 1692), and Muḥammad ibn al-Ḥasan al- Ḥurr al-‘Āmilī (d. 1688).
One fascinating cluster of Arabic autobiographies written by enslaved West Africans appeared in the early nineteenth century in the United States and the Caribbean. These were made famous by the American popular press and played prominent roles in several political causes célèbres. Although the authors were not personal acquaintances, they may very well have known of one other. It seems that those who solicited these autobiographical texts did in fact know of the other cases; thus, if the texts themselves were not directly linked, the political forces that motivated their composition certainly were. The best documented are those written by Abū Bakr al-Ṣiddīq, ‘Abd al-Raḥmān, and ‘Umar ibn Sa‘īd.[16]
Abū Bakr al-Ṣiddīq (d. 1850), later renamed Edward Donellan, was originally from Timbuktu and educated in Jennah. As a child he traveled extensively with his teacher but was captured at the age of fourteen or fifteen by the Ashanti and sold to Christian slave traders. He arrived in the West Indies in 1807 or 1808 and ended up keeping the accounts for the plantation where he was a slave. He kept these records in Arabic script, which he then read aloud each evening to the plantation owner in pidgin English. A visitor to the plantation, Dr. Madden, was so moved by Abū Bakr's literacy, his faith in the One True God, his highborn rank (he was later often referred to as a prince), and his desire to return to his homeland that he fought for his manumission, which was eventually granted in a British court. On his route homeward, in August 1835, Abū Bakr stopped in England. There, at the request of his hosts, he wrote out his life story in Arabic. Though only a few pages long, it offers a vivid description of his childhood education, his travels, his capture and sale as a slave, and his experiences among the Christians.
‘Abd al-Raḥmān (d. 1829), known as “Prince,” originally from the region of Futa Jalloun, was educated in Timbo, Jennah, and Timbuktu. He was captured at the age of twenty-one while leading a military expedition, sold into slavery, and then purchased by a landowner in Tennessee. He ran away but could not manage to live in the wild and so finally returned. Eventually he married and had several children. In 1807, in an astonishing development, he encountered in the Natchez market John Coates Cox, a man who had lived in Timbo twenty-five years earlier as a guest of his father. Cox recognized ‘Abd al-Raḥmān and tried to buy him but was rebuffed. He then petitioned the governor for the slave's manumission but failed. Finally he launched a publicity campaign with the help of a local newpaper that promised to publish and deliver to ‘Abd al-Raḥmān's father a letter written by his son in Arabic. The U.S. State Department became involved, and ‘Abd al-Raḥmān was freed, but he did not wish to return to Africa without his wife and children. With help from friends, he launched a lecture tour across the northern United States to raise money to buy his family's freedom. For a year he was probably the most famous African American in the nation. During his tour he was constantly asked to write things in Arabic (when asked to write the Lord's Prayer, he would dutifully copy out the opening chapter of the Qur’ān). At the request of those fighting for his cause, ‘Abd al-Raḥmān wrote a short autobiography in Arabic that was translated into English and reprinted as part of the newspaper war that had erupted after his liberation. Eventually his wife was freed, and the two of them sailed for Liberia in February 1829. On arrival they were delayed by the rainy season, and, tragically, ‘Abd al-Raḥmān died of fever before being able to complete the final leg of his journey home. His brief autobiography, written in Arabic and broken English, recounts his life up to the death of his friend, Mr. Cox.
‘Umar ibn Sa‘īd (d. 1864), also known as “Prince Moro,” was originally from the region of Futa Toro. Accounts of how he ended up being sold as a slave vary, but he eventually arrived in South Carolina, probably in 1807. Reporters portray him as a man of royal lineage and as a converted and faithful Christian. In 1831 he composed an autobiography in Arabic, later translated in two different versions, both of which were published. He even entered into correspondence with Francis Scott Key, author of the “Star-Spangled Banner.” He remained in the United States until his death; the Arabic text of the autobiography, lost since 1925, resurfaced in 1998 and has been published with an introductory analysis.[17]
In all three cases, the popular press constructed these slaves as “Moors,” as opposed to “Africans”; as royalty (all three were again and again referred to as princes); and as Muslims who worshiped God, in contrast to pagans. The popular press also sought to portray them as potential (or actual) converts to Christianity. But it was their ability to write in Arabic that set each of them on the road to celebrity. In the 1820s even many staunch supporters of slavery were shocked that literate men of noble rank and education were being maintained as slaves; much of the encouragement for setting these men free came from Southern slave owners. In all three cases, the autobiographies were produced at the request of white friends, but the texts clearly draw on features of the Arabic religious biographical tradition (although it is unclear, from the evidence available, whether any of these men had read an Arabic autobiography).
In the nineteenth century, the advent of Arabic printing assured the more rapid dissemination of new texts in the Arab Middle East. The semiautobiographical accounts of travels to Europe such as al-Ṭahṭāwī's Takhlīṣ al-ibrīz ilā talkhīṣ Bārīz (Purified Gold from an Account of Paris Told), published in 1834, as well as experiments in autobiographical fiction such as Aḥmad Fāris al-Shidyāq's al-Sāq ‘alā al-sāq fīmā huwa al-Faryāq (Thigh upon Thigh on the Question of Who Am I), published in 1858, found substantial readerships. In scholarly circles ‘Alī Mubārak published an account of his life in his massive geographic-biographical compendium of Egypt, al-Khiṭaṭ al-tawfīqiyya (1888–89), which was later imitated by Muḥammad Kurd ‘Alī in his six-volume geographic-biographical compendium of Syria, Khiṭaṭ al-Shām (1925–28), which concludes with Kurd ‘Alī's autobiography. In 1898 the famous poet Aḥmad Shawqī prefaced his autobiography to his four-volume anthology of poetry, al-Shawqiyyāt, which unleashed a storm of newspaper commentary. And a wave of political memoirs by figures such as Ibrāhīm Fawzī Pasha (who wrote a personal, and at the time highly controversial, account of the Anglo-Egyptian Sudan campaigns) and, later, Nubar Nubarian Pasha (Armenian-Egyptian civil servant), Sa‘d Zaghlūl (Egyptian nationalist leader), and Bābakr Badrī (Sudanese nationalist leader) and a putative autobiography by Aḥmad ‘Urābī (leader of the Egyptian rebellion of 1881–82), also originated in this period.
In short, these historical clusters of autobiographical production and the myriad individual links among various authors and texts make it clear that Arabic autobiographical writing constituted an often tightly knit literary tradition over many centuries. It is important to note, however, that in only a few of the cases do the autobiographies in these historical clusters actually resemble one another as texts. While the biographical branches of the sīra and tarjama genres remained in formal terms often rigidly conventional, their autobiographical counterparts expanded and evolved beyond the original conventions and purposes of their type. Whereas biographers usually accepted the conventions of earlier examples in their own fields, autobiographers found precedents but did not view them as binding formal models. As a result, the corpus of Arabic autobiographies displays a high degree of formal variety and includes a number of highly idiosyncratic texts. Perhaps this was possible precisely because the production of autobiographical texts remained limited in comparison to that of biographies and prosopographical notices. This degree of variation may also explain why the establishment of different categories or types for Arabic autobiographies in the medieval and premodern periods has proved of such limited usefulness.[18] Such divisions group together texts that have few formal similarities and at the same time obscure precedents and influences that cut across the boundaries of these heuristic categories.
Whether contact took place between authors or through reading another autobiographer's text, what seems to have been communicated is the autobiographical act as precedent, rather than specific formal characteristics or a sense of what the style or content of an autobiography should be. To whatever degree these authors influenced, motivated, or inspired one another to interpret their lives in literary representations, they did so in a manner that left themselves free to tailor their interpretations to their own individual needs and desires. This history of formal innovation seems to be indicative of an individualistic impulse that is connected in a very significant way to self-portrayal in the Arabic literary tradition.