The Thief and the Vizier

The Thief and the Vizier is the first novel I wrote. Set in Baghdad at the end of the eighth century, it tells the story of an ambitious young burglar who finds himself caught up in a feud between two gangsters, one of whom terrorises him into burgling the fortified mansion of his enemy.
The idea for the novel and its setting came to me while I was reading Richard Burton's translation of the Arabian Nights stories. Burton's work is a remarkable, if slightly wonky, piece of late 19th century scholarship and is worth reading for its footnotes alone, which reveal as much about the attitudes and prejudices of Burton's times as it does the work he was translating. Further inspiration came from reading about the Abbasid caliphate during the reign of Harun ar-Rashid, who appears in a number of the Arabian Nights tales alongside his vizier Ja'far and the mischievous poet Abu Nuwas.
Much of our knowledge of the events and people of the time comes from al-Tabari's multi-volume world history, supplemented by collections of anecdotes in works such as al-Masudi's Meadows of Gold. According to al-Tabari, one of Harun ar-Rashid's sons, al-Amin, in order to ensure his eventual succession, had a number of letters smuggled into Baghdad hidden in the hollow legs of wooden chests, instructing his supporters on what to do on the event of his father's death. The scheme worked and al-Amin's partisans were well placed to thwart his rivals when Harun died unexpectedly while suppressing a revolt in Khurasan; one can imagine what would have happened to al-Amin had his scheming been discovered. Thus was born the idea for the novel's MacGuffin: a post sack holding a letter whose compromising contents could fatally end the career of one of the caliph's viziers.
Islam's Golden Age: Enlightenment and Tolerance... Towards Some

The first four caliphs (the term is an abbreviation of Kalīfat Allāh, or Deputy of God) were Bedouin tribal leaders and former companions of Mohammed. In 661AD, after the Arabs' lightning conquest of the Near East and Persia, a new dynasty, the Umayyads, seized power after a civil war and the caliphate's capital was moved to Damascus. The Umayyads abandoned their old tribal ways and adopted the trappings of the ancient Persian kings, living lives of stupendous luxury and ruling from huge, sumptuously-decorated palaces. The Abbasids, who seized power on the back of a popular, pro-Alid revolt in 750AD, only added to the court's splendour and moved the capital to Baghdad, a city purpose-built from scratch by the second Abbasid caliph, al-Mansur.

The reign of the fourth Abbasid caliph, Harun ar-Rashid, saw a flowering of science and the arts. Arabic, Persian and classical Greek culture (the latter acquired from literature translated into Arabic via Syriac translations made by Nestorian Christians) were fused to make a rich, vibrant and highly cosmopolitan society, which allowed a fair degree of social mobility — at least for a fortunate few. It was also an age of religious tolerance, where Jews, Zoroastrians and Christians (collectively termed "peoples of the book") thrived. Incidentally, the latter were largely Nestorians who, unlike their orthodox Greek and Latin counterparts, did not claim that Jesus was simultaneously God, and so were spared Muslim accusations of polytheism. Somewhat oddly the Muslims also had no problems accommodating Sabeans, who some modern scholars believe were a remnant of an ancient Mesopotamian pagan cult worshipping the moon god Sîn.
Such tolerance only went so far, however. Non-Muslims (collectively known as dhimmis) had to pay a supplemental tax, albeit one that exempted them from military service, and there were times when Jews and Christians were made to wear distinctive clothing, and the latter forbidden from proselytising or building churches. Even practitioners of variant versions of Islam were persecuted, although often for political as much as religious reasons. Both the Kharijites and the Alids (the latter being Shia Muslims who traced direct descent from the fourth caliph, Ali) were ruthlessly suppressed by the Abbasids, primarily for refusing to acknowledge the caliph's rule as legitimate.
Then there were those religions not "of the book". The pogroms launched against Manicheans mentioned in the novel are a matter of historical fact; indeed, so ruthless were they that Manichaeism had become all but extinct by the tenth century. Many other religions fared equally badly, as did a number of Islamic sects considered to be heretical; collectively, practitioners of such faiths were known by the pejorative term zindiq. This was an age when people took religion very seriously and in such an atmosphere the mere accusation of deviant belief could be fatal to the recipient. Incidentally, Silas, one of the two gangsters in the story, is a somewhat unorthodox Manichaean, given that the sect eschewed the acquisition of wealth. His eccentricity is perhaps excusable given that he is criminally insane.
The Damned and the Saved
At the time the novel is set the Sunni consensus had yet to be reached and Islam was something of a hotchpotch of competing creeds, including, among others, Mu'tazilites, Qadarites, Murji'ites and Kharijites, not to mention the various types of Shia Islam, which grew out of a movement supporting Mohammed's cousin Ali as the Prophet's successor. Many of their doctrinal differences would be incomprehensible to modern secular humans, and are almost equally baffling to many who profess to follow one of the Abrahamic faiths. Theological arguments never stopped, with topics ranging from the nature of the Qur'an (was it created by God as it was dictated to Mohammed or did it always exist?), to the degree to which one can anthropomorphise God and the question of precisely how one should wash before praying. (Does the requirement for hand washing also include the elbows? Must one wash one's beard or simply the exposed part of the face? And so on.) Last, but by no means least, were the (still unresolved) debates about determinism versus free will: God is omniscient, with knowledge of all future events, implying that humans lack free will, yet He also punishes us when we sin. How can one square this with the assumption that God is both just and merciful?
Although these issues might seem trivial to non-believers, correct practice was (and still is) of paramount importance to Muslims. As Mohammed once said: "My community will be divided into seventy-three sects, only one of which will be saved." Yet how to ensure that one was a member of the right sect? God was watching and on the Last Day, when He is destined to judge humanity, those who have not come up to scratch are bound for an eternity of hellfire.
Abbasid Baghdad

Baghdad at the end of the eighth century was one of the world's greatest cities, and the capital of the Abbasid caliphate at the height of its power. Founded by the caliph al-Mansur in 762AD, it quickly grew into a metropolis of over a million souls; few places on Earth at the time could match it for size. Almost nothing remains of the old city, which has long since been buried by its modern namesake, and for details of its geography one must sift through the large body of contemporary literary sources. Fortunately this work has already been done by Guy Le Strange in his Baghdad During the Abbasid Caliphate, whose remarkably detailed maps I have used, making changes only to meet the demands of the novel's plot.
In look and feel the caliphate was very different from the fantastical worlds of the Arabian Nights stories or the Prince of Persia and Assassin's Creed video games, or even the (real) mediaeval Middle East at the time of the Crusades. The Abbasids were in power at the end of the classical period, and their culture was decidedly ancient both in its outlook and its architecture. There were no tall, spear-like minarets topped by crescents breaking the skyline: most mosques at the time did not have a minaret, and the crescent would not become a symbol of Islam until the 15th century when the Ottomans (a Turkic rather than Semitic people) adopted it from the Byzantines. Abbasid architecture owed more to ancient Assyrian, Babylonian and Sassanid Persian styles: squat, heavy-looking buildings made of mudbrick and decorated with painted stucco, with thick-set pillars and buttresses, and barrel-vaulted ceilings. Today one can get a feel of the architecture by looking at what remains of Samarra, another Abbasid city.
The Great Jihad
Alongside revolts and outbreaks of heresy, the Abbasid caliphate had to contend with external threats, especially that posed by the Roman empire. The western Latin empire had long since collapsed, but the eastern Greek part (now known as the Byzantine empire and that had been Christian since the fourth century) was still going strong, despite its huge loss of territory during the seventh century Arab conquests. The two great powers were in a permanent state of religious war, and the caliphs considered their military campaigns against the Roman infidels to be as much a sacred duty as their pilgrimages to Mecca.
Most of the fighting took the form of small-scale, albeit brutal, border raids conducted in the Taurus mountains by bands of local tribesmen supported by zealous volunteers, although there were years when the caliphate would attempt a more sizable invasion. Despite their antipathy, the Christian and Islamic rulers occasionally exchanged letters, some of which were cordial, and the states enjoyed a mutually profitable trade relationship. They also hosted each others' political refugees.
Farting in the Mosque and Other Misdeeds

During Abbasid times mosques functioned not so much as sacred spaces but as general-purpose public arenas, and fulfilled much the same role as the old Roman forums. When not used for prayer they played host to orators, teachers, fortune tellers, prophets, street entertainers and many others, and often contained open air markets. They were also magnets for beggars, thieves and other scoundrels, whose many tricks and schemes — including farting during prayers as a means of raising money — are described in Clifford Bosworth's excellent The Mediaeval Islamic Underworld, a book that, despite its title, also covers much of the Abbasid period. Within its pages one finds details of all sorts of scams and tricks, far more than I could include in one novel (who knew the use thieves could put a tortoise to?). Perhaps they will one day appear in a sequel.
Stain Your Prayer Rug With Wine

The above quote is from a poem by Hafez of Shiraz, a 14th century Persian Sufi and poet. Sufism is a mystical form of Islam, and many of its practitioners use wine to get closer to God.
To non-Sufi Muslims such behaviour is usually considered beyond the pale; indeed, many Sunni and Shia Moslems to this day consider Sufis to be apostates. But does God really forbid the drinking of alcohol? The Qur'an is unclear on the issue: in one verse God calls wine drinking a heinous sin, in another He merely forbids those from praying while drunk, recommending that one sobers up first, while in a third He promises rivers of wine for those who reach Paradise. And does it matter what the alcohol is made from? Some think it does. For instance, the Hanafi school of Islamic jurisprudence believes that God only disapproves of wine made from grapes or dates and has no problem with alcohol made from grain, or other fruits.
What is beyond doubt is the hypocrisy of the Abbasid elite, who guzzled wine, played musical instruments and danced the night away as if at God wasn't watching. Of course, they were by no means the first, and certainly not the last, ruling class to adopt a "do as I say, not as I do" attitude. Indeed, given human nature, it would be astonishing, if not down right unbelievable, if they had not.
Poetry
Abu Nuwas, who plays a minor, albeit important, part in the novel, is considered to be one of the greatest of the classical islamic poets. Although he was dissolute, sinful and disdainful of authority, much of his oeuvre was perfectly respectable and included elegies, eulogies, and poems praising hunting and wine drinking -- all derived from earlier, pre-Islamic forms or the later Udhri poetry from Umayyad times. He was, however, a noted innovator, fusing old Bedouin and Persian styles and subverting expectations, particularly in his odes to wine, for which he was celebrated. But his wildness was never far beneath the surface and much of his verse was either blasphemous or downright filthy, while his character assassinations of his enemies could be brutal. Unfortunately his lyrical cleverness does not translate well, relying as it does on the listener's intimate knowledge of the Qur'an and classical Arabic to appreciate the puns and wordplay, some of which only make sense when one knows the shapes of certain Arabic letters (for instance, one poem uses the shapes of the letters miim and laam to suggest the act of anal sex).
Many of his poems are thought to be autobiographical, and in the novel some of his speech is taken from them. The incident in which he vomits on the carpet is inspired by an anecdote set in Cairo where, in an alcoholic stupour, he collapsed and urinated over himself while reciting verse. Thwarted by Aban, he never did gain admittance to the Barmakids' circle, although he did enjoy some limited success with the caliph and his successor al-Amin, both of whom had him imprisoned at least once for blasphemy and immoral conduct.
Pictures of Mohammed and Other Surprising Things
While trawling through various museums' online collections of Islamic art in search of inspiration I came across some unexpected and unusual finds. Some of the finest artworks produced in the ancient and mediaeval Islamic world can be found in illuminated manuscripts, of which there are hundreds still in existence, including Qur'ans, scientific and medical treatises, histories, books of poetry and collections of fables and anecdotes. A few examples appear on this page, and they are as intricate as they are exquisite. Surprisingly, many portray human beings (a practice that is often considered forbidden to Muslims); more surprising still, some portray Mohammed (the depiction of whom can get one into serious trouble nowadays). It appears that there was once a market for biographies of the Prophet, which often contained illustrations depicting important events in his life. There are hundreds of these images held in museums all over the world.

Another surprising find is shown nearby. It is a silk patch designed to be sewn onto a linen
tunic, either at the front, back or shoulder (one can still see the sewing thread on the
right hand side), and dates from the late Umayyad or early Abbasid era, say 700-800AD.
It very clearly shows a pair of semi-naked women dancing.
Apparently such decorative patches were common in the eighth century. How the Islamic world has changed.
I Am the Law
A good chunk of the Qur'an is devoted to describing things that God does and does not approve of, and warnings of the ghastly fate in store for those who stray from the true path. Unfortunately, when taken together, God's pronouncements do not form even the beginnings of a workable legal code. So Muslim jurists, mindful that Judgement Day is coming and that people need to know how to behave if they are to avoid the Fires, turn to the Sunna (the examples set by the Prophet, as recorded in a collection of anecdotes known as Hadith) to fill in the gaps.
The sum of all God's requirements for human behaviour is termed Sha'ria and represents Islamic law in its pure, idealised form, and can in principle be gleaned in its entirety from the combination of the Qur'an and the Sunna. Unfortunately there are hundreds of thousands of separate Hadith, many of dubious authenticity; worse, they often contradict each other, the Qur'an, or both. Trying to divine God's intentions in this vast body of literature is no easy task, which is why the practice of Islamic law may fall short of God's requirements. It does not help that, over the centuries, several different schools of Islamic jurisprudence have evolved, differing not only in interpretations of points of law but the degree to which a religious scholar is permitted to use his own reasoning to supplement the corpus of tradition.

Sha'ria is, of course, a body of religious law, and unlike modern secular equivalents is concerned not so much with the dealings of humans with each as with their relationship with God. Muslim jurists divide all acts into five categories: mandatory, encouraged, neutral, discouraged and forbidden. Thus, for example, fasting, alms giving and daily prayer are mandatory; praying more than five times each day or regularly reciting the Qur'an are encouraged; giving something to someone using the left hand or praying in a garment that does not cover the shoulder are discouraged; usury, fornication, shaving the beard or converting to Christianity are forbidden; and so on. In the eyes of both God and Muslims all of this matters, because a person who commits too many forbidden acts and not enough mandatory ones risks damnation.
It took centuries for the concept of Sha'ria and the whole other apparatus of Islamic legal theory to become fully developed, and at the time the novel is set matters were far less certain. During Umayyad times legal issues between Muslims were decided on the fly by the caliphs and their appointees, using a combination of expediency, local pre-Islamic legal traditions, Bedouin custom, and bits and pieces from the Qur'an and the Sunna. Later caliphs appointed qadis (i.e. judges) to make rulings on points of law, and gradually the whole edifice of Sh'aria, as described above, fell into place, being completed largely by the end of the tenth century.
At the time the novel is set, law enforcement was in the hands of various bodies, among whom were the muhtasib and the shurta. The former acted as market inspectors, ensuring that traders did not commit sins such as fixing weights, adulterating flour and grain with sand, and short-changing their customers, but they also seem to have had a wider remit in enforcing Sha'ria more generally, acting in a similar role to the so-called Morality Police in modern Afghanistan and Iran. They were empowered to administer summary punishments in certain cases. By contrast, the shurta, who were an elite branch of the army, were responsible more for quelling public disorder and hunting down bandits and the like. However, given the overlap between the concepts of sin and crime, there was a corresponding degree of overlap between the duties of the two bodies.