#seluq

In the improbable way of the majority of Islamic empires, the Seljuqs arose from a tribe, loosely affiliated with the institution of Islam (in the sense that it was only subscribed to for the a few generations prior to their rule) and managed, in a spectacular fashion, to institute a far reaching and inclusive control of their subject peoples. This, however, is where the similarity ends.

A little bit of background is perhaps appropriate. The Seljuqs were a nomadic tribe of central Asian descent. They were roughly from the area around Transoxania and they were militant in their approach to conquering. This, of course, begets the question: “How on earth did they manage to subjugate the whole of Islamdom (previously controlled by the Abbasid caliphate) in an arguably peaceable manner?” The answer, as can probably be inferred, is not a simple one. This elusive answer lies in a cocktail of military prowess, dissemination of centralized power, diplomatic overtures, and a never-ending pursuit of legitimization.

The first of these is perhaps the most obvious. The Seljuqs were always militarily inclined, and even into their rule over the Empire, the sultans were still primarily concerned with affairs of a military nature (Safi, 60), whether by necessity or by simple familiarity and preference. In fact, it would not be going too far to believe that their pride concerning military competency was reflexive upon the actual sultan’s vanity with concern to his own personal ability as a soldier. A spectacular example of this is of Alp Arslan’s assassination. This attempt at his life was entirely preventable, should the late sultan not have decided to try and take out the assassinator with his own bow and arrow. (Safi, 61)  This is an excellent example of military pride working against the Seljuqs, however there is little to indicate that this was the norm rather than the exception.

Perhaps this is only so because of the second point of notice: the Seljuq government’s proclivity towards disseminating their administrational power. What this means is that there was not just “The Sultanate.” There was also “The Vizierate,” and “The Caliphate.” This effectively divided the powers and spheres of influence of the realm into three separate, but linked, entities, which would work either in tandem or against each other at any given time. (Safi, 43-44.)

This separation of powers, if you choose to call it such, was what allowed the empire to work cohesively at the height of its power. This was, in large part, due to the mediatory efforts of the vizierate. (Safi, 44.) There were multiple viziers, and officials of many different positions in the sultanate could possess viziers, however it is unanimously considered that the most important of all of these viziers was one Nizam al-Mulk. (Safi, 43-44.)

This was not his real name, but was instead a title. (Safi, 44.) And the acknowledgement of this as a title instead of his given name perhaps gives him even more power; especially when one considers the transliterated meaning of his name. Omid Safi, in his book The Politics of Knowledge in Premodern Islam, investigates the linguistic history of Nizam al-Mulk’s title in penetrating detail, even going so far as to consider cognates of the word “Nizam,” however, for our purposes, it can be understood that his name hints at the great unification of the Seljuq empire which can be ascribed to Nizam al-Mulk’s direction. (Safi, 45-46.)

Nizam al-Mulk, it can be argued, almost single-handedly negotiated the relationship between the reigning sultan and caliph for almost forty years. He drew upon his father’s post in the administration of the Ghaznavid empire and existing facets of the political “landscape” to effectively re-assemble the empire into something resembling earlier models of Islamic empiricism, but wholly independent in functionality. (Safi, 87.) His innovative mixture of realpolitik (Sufi, 54.), proto-fascist control over his peers and the subjects of the empire, and pragmatic bipartisan diplomacy (between the sultanate and the caliphate, as well as between opposing schools of Sunni legal thought) served both the Seljuq Empire, and himself, until 1092 CE when he was assassinated. (Safi, 74.)

The policies concerning the land grant system (‘iqta), patronage of education and madrasas, and strict supervision (or spying) of the subject peoples were not new ideas, however his implementation of these principles was a work of his own ingenuity. (Safi, 87.)

The first two worked in favor of the Seljuq Empire’s diplomatic overtures to the Arabs over which they ruled. ‘Iqta had been a practice which was not new to the region, however Nizam al-Mulk utilized it in a way which both rewarded military and scholastic achievement, and settled the Turkish tribal forces which posed a distinct threat to the incumbent empire, if for no other reason than for their legendary lack of fidelity and their nomadic lifestyle. (Safi, 89.) The latter of which potentially posed a threat to the stability and comfort of established Arab settlements. Far from requiring that the Turkish tribes settle permanently, it merely encouraged them to migrate regularly to their established land grant, if only to collect tax and revenue from those living there. (Safi, 89.)

If the ‘iqta system of land grants served to appease the migratory tribes and the military commanders, sponsorship of the Madrasa and endowments for educational pursuits served to appease and curry favor with the Ulama and aspiring scholars, qadi, and those who wished to study fiqh. It also won over whoever subscribed to that particular madrasa’s school of legal thought, (Whether it was Hanafi or Shafi’i.) (Safi, 60.) This was an important step in securing the governability of the empire. Fitna (or civil strife) was rampant in sectarian disputes over legalistic views of Sunni Islam. (Safi, 54.) It was also a defining declaration against Shi’ites, particularly the Isma’ilis and the Fatimid empire to the west.

Through further polarizing the difference between Sunnis and Shi’ites, Nizam al-Mulk sought to ameliorate the disparity between the Hanafi and Shafi’i sectors of the Seljuq Empire. (This was possibly in large part because, in direct opposition to the sultan Alp Arslan, Nizam al-Mulk subscribed to the Shafi’i school. He admitted that this caused him some reason for discomfort.) (Safi, 94.)

The last trick of Nizam al-Mulk which will be mentioned in this essay, (however, certainly not the last political trick up his sleeve), was that of strict observation of the subject peoples. This is not mentioned in a general sense, not in the least. Nizam al-Mulk had a complex circuitry of reconnaissance officers and spies about the entirety of the empire. (Safi, 84.) He utilized postal workers and Sufi travellers as his method of acquiring information on all things great and small. A ruler that knew nothing was no ruler at all, by his consideration. He even went so far as to monitor those who were doing his spying (Safi, 86,) and although this was not a concept which was original to him, his application of it was far more advanced than his predecessors. (Safi, 84.) In what is perhaps reminiscent of the CIA or former KGB, he patrolled the empire fastidiously to ensure that it remained under the thumb of the sultanate.  

However, outside of Nizam al-Mulk’s personal endeavors at empire-building, his nominal position was as an advisor to the sultan and as an emissary to the caliphs. (This was a position which he took very seriously, as the balance of the legitimacy of the caliphal office and the real power of the sultan was fairly precarious.) Nizam al-Mulk was a supporter of keeping the Abbasids in view of the public and upholding the position of the caliph for the sake of stability, however, and this is evidence of one of his failings, very few of his contemporaries agreed upon this sore point. (Safi, 55.) The Seljuq sultans themselves were happy enough to wish the caliphs done away with and some of the other viziers were actively attempting to undermine caliphal power. This was, perhaps, Nizam al-Mulk’s downfall, for as he progressed in his career he met increased resistance from the then sultan Malik-Shah (son of Alp Arslan) who wished to consolidate the offices. (Safi, 62.) This purportedly led to Nizam al-Mulk’s assassination in 1092. (Safi, 74) And thus, one of the greatest political minds in history was dead.

The Seljuq Empire continued on after this point, but its period of solidarity and unification was over. The administrational innovations of the Seljuqs took place, almost singularly, in this period of time. Whether their stigmatism of “outsider” persisted or re-emerged after this point is open to some debate; however it is clear that this was their period of greatest control over their subjects, and their subject’s greatest ubiquitous acceptance of the sultanate. Like all great empires, it also crumbled.

[i]Safi, Omid. The Politics of Knowledge in Premodern Islam: Negotiating Ideology and

 Religious Inquiry. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina, 2006. Print.

 Written in December 2010