Like most of their countrymen, the Buwayhids were Shí‘ites in religion. We read in the Annals of Abu ’l-Maḥásin under the year 341 a.h. = 952 a.d.:—

"In this year the Vizier al-Muhallabí arrested some persons who held the doctrine of metempsychosis ( tanásukh). Among Zeal of the Buwayhids for Shí‘ite principles. them were a youth who declared that the spirit of ‘Alí b. Abí Ṭálib had passed into his body, and a woman who claimed that the spirit of Fáṭima was dwelling in her; while another man pretended to be Gabriel. On being flogged, they excused themselves by alleging their relationship to the Family of the Prophet, whereupon Mu‘izzu ’l-Dawla ordered them to be set free. This he did because of his attachment to Shí‘ism. It is well known," says the author in conclusion, "that the Buwayhids were Shí‘ites and Ráfiḍites."502

Three dynasties contemporary with the Buwayhids have still to be mentioned: the Ghaznevids in Afghanistan, the The Ghaznevids (976-1186 a.d.). Ḥamdánids in Syria, and the Fáṭimids in Egypt. Sabuktagín, the founder of the first-named dynasty, was a Turkish slave. His son, Maḥmúd, who succeeded to the throne of Ghazna in 998 a.d., made short work of the already tottering Sámánids, and then sweeping far and wide over Northern India, began a series of conquests which, before his death in 1030 a.d., reached from Lahore to Samarcand and Iṣfahán. Although the Persian and Transoxanian provinces of his huge empire were soon torn away by the Seljúqs, Maḥmúd's invasion of India, which was undertaken with the object of winning that country for Islam, permanently established Muḥammadan influence, at any rate in the Panjáb. As regards their religious views, the Turkish Ghaznevids stand in sharp contrast with the Persian houses of Sámán and Buwayh. It has been well said that the true genius of the Turks lies in action, not in speculation. When Islam came across their path, they saw that it was a simple and practical creed such as the soldier requires; so they accepted it without further parley. The Turks have always remained loyal to Islam, the Islam of Abú Bakr and ‘Umar, which is a very different thing from the Islam of Shí‘ite Persia. Maḥmúd proved his orthodoxy by banishing the Mu‘tazilites of Rayy and burning their books together with the philosophical and astronomical works that fell into his hands; but on the same occasion he carried off a hundred camel-loads of presumably harmless literature to his capital. That he had no deep enthusiasm for letters is shown, for example, by his shabby treatment of the poet Firdawsí. Nevertheless, he ardently desired the glory and prestige accruing to a sovereign whose court formed the rallying-point of all that was best in the literary and scientific culture of the day, and such was Ghazna in the eleventh century. Besides the brilliant group of Persian poets, with Firdawsí at their head, we may mention among the Arabic-writing authors who flourished under this dynasty the historians al-‘Utbí and al-Bírúní.

While the Eastern Empire of Islam was passing into the hands of Persians and Turks, we find the Arabs still holding The Ḥamdánids (929-1003 a.d.). their own in Syria and Mesopotamia down to the end of the tenth century. These Arab and generally nomadic dynasties were seldom of much account. The Ḥamdánids of Aleppo alone deserve to be noticed here, and that chiefly for the sake of the peerless Sayfu ’l-Dawla, a worthy descendant of the tribe of Taghlib, which in the days of heathendom produced the poet-warrior, ‘Amr b. Kulthúm. ‘Abdulláh b. Ḥamdán was appointed governor of Mosul and its dependencies by the Caliph Muktafí in 905 a.d., and in 942 his sons Ḥasan and ‘Alí received the complimentary titles of Náṣiru ’l-Dawla (Defender of the State) and Sayfu ’l-Dawla (Sword of the State). Two years later Sayfu ’l-Dawla captured Aleppo and brought the whole of Northern Syria under his dominion. During a reign of twenty-three years he was continuously engaged in harrying the Byzantines on the frontiers of Asia Minor, but although he gained some glorious victories, which his laureate Mutanabbí has immortalised, the fortune of war went in the long run steadily against him, and his successors were unable to preserve their little kingdom from being crushed between the Byzantines in the north and the Fáṭtimids in the south. The Ḥamdánids have an especial claim on our sympathy, because they revived for a time the fast-decaying and already almost broken spirit of Arabian nationalism. It is this spirit that speaks with a powerful voice in Mutanabbí and declares itself, for example, in such verses as these:—503

"Men from their kings alone their worth derive,But Arabs ruled by aliens cannot thrive:Boors without culture, without noble fame,Who know not loyalty and honour's name.Go where thou wilt, thou seest in every landFolk driven like cattle by a servile band."

The reputation which Sayfu ’l-Dawla's martial exploits and his repeated triumphs over the enemies of Islam richly earned The circle of Sayfu ’l-Dawla. for him in the eyes of his contemporaries was enhanced by the conspicuous energy and munificence with which he cultivated the arts of peace. Considering the brevity of his reign and the relatively small extent of his resources, we may well be astonished to contemplate the unique assemblage of literary talent then mustered in Aleppo. There was, first of all, Mutanabbí, in the opinion of his countrymen the greatest of Moslem poets; there was Sayfu ’l-Dawla's cousin, the chivalrous Abú Firás, whose war-songs are relieved by many a touch of tender and true feeling; there was Abu ’l-Faraj of Iṣfahán, who on presenting to Sayfu ’l-Dawla his Kitábu ’l-Aghání, one of the most celebrated and important works in all Arabic literature, received one thousand pieces of gold accompanied with an expression of regret that the prince was obliged to remunerate him so inadequately; there was also the great philosopher, Abú Naṣr al-Fárábí, whose modest wants were satisfied by a daily pension of four dirhems (about two shillings) from the public treasury. Surely this is a record not easily surpassed even in the heyday of ‘Abbásid patronage. As for the writers of less note whom Sayfu ’l-Dawla attracted to Aleppo, their name is legion. Space must be found for the poets Sarí al-Raffá, Abu ’l-‘Abbás al-Námí, and Abu ’l-Faraj al-Babbaghá for the preacher ( khaṭíb) Ibn Nubáta, who would often rouse the enthusiasm of his audience while he urged the duty of zealously prosecuting the Holy War against Christian Byzantium; and for the philologist Ibn Khálawayh, whose lectures were attended by students from all parts of the Muḥammadan world. The literary renaissance which began at this time in Syria was still making its influence felt when Tha‘álibí wrote his Yatíma, about thirty years after the death of Sayfu ’l-Dawla, and it produced in Abu ’l-‘Alá al-Ma‘arrí (born 973 a.d.) an original and highly interesting personality, to whom we shall return on another occasion.

The dynasties hitherto described were political in their origin, having generally been founded by ambitious governors The Fáṭimids (909-1171 a.d.). or vassals. These upstarts made no pretensions to the nominal authority, which they left in the hands of the Caliph even while they forced him at the sword's point to recognise their political independence. The Sámánids and Buwayhids, Shí‘ites as they were, paid the same homage to the Caliph in Baghdád as did the Sunnite Ghaznevids. But in the beginning of the tenth century there arose in Africa a great Shí‘ite power, that of the Fáṭimids, who took for themselves the title and prerogatives of the Caliphate, which they asserted to be theirs by right Divine. This event was only the climax of a deep-laid and skilfully organised plot—one of the most extraordinary in all history. It had been put in train half a century earlier by a certain ‘Abdulláh the son of Maymún, a Persian oculist ( qaddáḥ) belonging to Aḥwáz. Filled with a fierce hatred of the Arabs and with a freethinker's contempt for Islam, ‘Abdulláh b. Maymún conceived the idea of a vast secret society which should be all things to all men, and which, by playing on the strongest passions and tempting the inmost weaknesses of human nature, should unite malcontents of every description in a conspiracy to overthrow the existing régime. Modern readers may find a parallel for this romantic project in the pages of Dumas, although the Aramis of Twenty Years Afteris a simpleton beside ‘Abdulláh. He saw that the movement, in order to succeed, must be started on a religious basis, and he therefore identified himself with an obscure The Ismá‘ílite propaganda. Shí‘ite sect, the Ismá‘ílís, who were so called because they regarded Muḥammad, son of Ismá‘íl, son of Ja‘far al-Ṣádiq, as the Seventh Imám. Under ‘Abdulláh the Ismá‘ílís developed their mystical and antinomian doctrines, of which an excellent account has been given by Professor Browne in the first volume of his Literary History of Persia(p. 405 sqq.). Here we can only refer to the ingenious and fatally insidious methods which he devised for gaining proselytes on a gigantic scale, and with such amazing success that from this time until the Mongol invasion—a period of almost four centuries—the Ismá‘ílites (Fáṭimids, Carmathians, and Assassins) either ruled or ravaged a great part of the Muḥammadan Empire. It is unnecessary to discuss the question whether ‘Abdulláh b. Maymún was, as Professor Browne thinks, primarily a religious enthusiast, or whether, according to the view commonly held, his real motives were patriotism and personal ambition. The history of Islam shows clearly enough that the revolutionist is nearly always disguised as a religious leader, while, on the other hand, every founder of a militant sect is potentially the head of a state. ‘Abdulláh may have been a fanatic first and a politician afterwards; more probably he was both at once from the beginning. His plan of operations was briefly as follows:—