The Sheen of Daniyya
A Backdrop
Piratical activity has been a persistent element of the Mediterranean’s maritime history, enduring beyond the collapse of the Roman dominion. This article shall cover a very brief (and vague) historical backdrop of the Mediterranean following the Roman era and then narrow its focus to the principal subject at hand: the prevalence of piracy originating from Al-Andalus.
By the end of the fifth century CE, as the Western Roman Empire lay in the dust of its own ruination, the Eastern Byzantine Empire continued to hold sway over the stretches of the Mediterranean, upholding the slave trade until the nascent dawn of Islam in the early decades of the seventh century. Amidst this restless era, the Adriatic Sea, once a serene cradle of maritime commerce, became a tempestuous theater of piracy and plunder.
With the schism that sundered the Roman Empire into East and West, the Byzantine Navy was birthed, inheriting the eastern Mediterranean fleet that had evolved since the epochal Battle of Actium in 31 BCE. By 300 CE, this Roman flotilla had transformed into a lighter force, primarily tasked with escort duties and the suppression of piracy. The backbone of this force was none other than the liburnae, swift vessels of modest size, distinguished by their dual rudders, reminiscent of the Illyrian pirate ships from which they derived their name. These ships had undergone significant evolution, now featuring two tiers of oars, elongated hulls, and increased tonnage, yet retaining remarkable swiftness. The preeminent armament of these vessels remained the ballistae until the advent of the frightening Greek fire. With their open decks, these galleys carried only a limited number of troops, resembling the earlier trirèmes whose speed and ramming prowess compensated for their scant onboard combatants. And despite their size, these fleets were commanded by larger admiral ships, the descendants of the pentère.
A notable engagement involving these fleets was the Battle of the Hellespont in 324 CE, where Constantine the Great triumphed over Licinius. Despite his inferior forces, Constantine’s superior tactics in the narrow straits of the Dardanelles enabled him to disembark his forces in Asia Minor, culminating in the decisive Battle of Chrysopolis and his ascension as the undisputed emperor. Consequently, the Byzantine fleet, stationed at Mysene, emerged as the Mediterranean’s preeminent naval force. Meanwhile, the Western Roman Empire witnessed a gradual decline in its maritime capabilities, exacerbated by the indirect effects of barbarian invasions, including manpower shortages and financial constraints primarily focused on terrestrial conflicts.
The Vandal king of Carthage, Genseric, posed a significant threat from 420 CE, dominating the Western Mediterranean. A large Byzantine expedition led by Basiliscus, comprising over 1100 ships and 100,000 men, ended in a calamitous defeat, plunging the empire into near bankruptcy, and necessitating a costly and humiliating peace treaty. The situation only improved posthumously with Genseric’s death in 477 CE.
The early utilization of naval incendiaries is traced back to the confrontation between Admiral Marinus, representing Emperor Anastasius I, and the rebellious Magister Militum, Vitalian, in 513 CE. These early incendiaries were likely precursors to Greek fire, with the use of inflammable amphorae dating back to the Hellenistic period.
Two decades later, Belisarius would launch his North African campaign with 15,000 men aboard 500 ousiakos, escorted by 92 dromons. These dromons had ascended as the vanguard of the Byzantine navy, solidifying its status as the dominant maritime power in the Mediterranean.
It was sometime during this era that the Narentines, a tribe reviving the ancient marauding customs of the Illyrians, became a challenging force in the Adriatic. With the ferocity of their ancestral spirits, they began their incursions in the seventh century, swiftly escalating their assaults until the once placid waters became a perilous realm for voyagers.
Moreover, the Sclaveni, a confederation of South Slavic tribes, surged through the Balkan landscape in the sixth century, leaving enduring marks upon the region. In the year 639, the thriving Roman bastion of Narona fell prey to a voracious horde of Avars and Slavs, succumbing to desolation and oblivion. Not long thereafter, Slavic dominion extended over the lower reaches of the Neretva. Upon the relics of Narona, the Slavs erected a new settlement, enshrining their deity Svetovid atop the ruins of Roman temples.
Historians have noted that Narentia, in its firm pagan beliefs, stood as a buffer against the Christian tide, akin to the Balto-Slavic sanctuaries in Rügen, such as the famed Jaromarsburg. Furthermore, the year 642 witnessed Slavic incursions reaching as far as the shores of southern Italy, with Siponto falling victim to their naval expeditions launched from the Dalmatian coast.
The Sheen of Daniyya
The early eleventh century saw Al-Andalus fragment into numerous taifa (lit. “factions”) kingdoms, dismantling the Umayyad Caliphate’s core political and economic frameworks. This fragmentation led to the creation of over 30 regional entities, shifting focus from the Umayyad’s centralizing efforts. This transition presented challenges of legitimacy for the new rulers. The Caliph, as amir al-mu’mineen (“commander of the believers”), was the sole legitimate Islamic authority. With the Caliphate dissolved, their rule lacked formal legitimacy. These taifa rulers seized the chance to strengthen their independent domains into effective kingdoms but faced inherent political instability. The taifa of Daniyya (Dénia), on the Iberian eastern coast (halfway between Valencia and Alicante), stood out as one of the most dynamic of these regional powers emerging from the collapsed Cordoban Caliphate.
It should be noted beforehand that Almeria was the primary base for the Caliphate’s naval forces, and Tortosa hosted shipyards dating back to 944 CE, founded by ‘Abd al-Rahmān III. Although Valencia’s harbor facilities were not as advanced, the city’s urban development and the presence of learned scholars by the late 10th century CE were indicative of a more sophisticated urban milieu than Dénia’s, particularly at the onset of the fitna, a time of tribulation in a dire period of political fragmentation. Throughout the entire taifa period, piracy was a cornerstone of the economic structure of these taifa kingdoms.
Dénia was renowned for its influential rulers, celebrated poets, and acclaimed religious scholars. In 1013 CE, Mujahid ibn ‘Abd Allah al-’Amiri Abul-Jaysh declared a new Caliphate in Dénia, appointing ‘Abd Allah al-Mu’ayti as a figurehead. He then conquered Mediterranean maritime routes, capturing the Balearic Islands and Sardinia. His rule would align with al-Mansur’s political strategies, using piracy as a means of asserting authority.
Ali, Mujahid’s son, known for his mercantile pursuits, also recognized the political utility of piracy. He would uphold his father’s policies until his downfall in 1076 CE, understanding the integral role of maritime aggression in maintaining power.
But in the interim, by late 1014 CE, Mujahid cemented his power as the de facto ruler of the Taifa of Dénia. His name, Mujahid, meaning “a fighter in the holy war,” and Abu al-Jaysh, translating to “father of the army,” underscored his distinguished military reputation. Despite his prestigious title, Mujahid’s beginnings were humble.
Born to a Christian slave mother, he was a saqlabi, a term for slaves of Slavic descent. His father’s identity remains unclear, as his patronymic, Ibn ʿ’Abd allah, does not refer to his biological father. Mujahid’s life took a monumental turn when he was bought and converted to Islam by the legendary al-Hajib al-Mansur. Under al-Mansur’s guidance, he received an education that prepared him for leadership. Following al-Mansur’s demise and the subsequent death of his second son, Sanchuelo, in 1009, Mujahid asserted control over Dénia.
Mujahid’s upbringing and career molded him into a key figure within the Umayyad regime, particularly in Sharq (East) Al-Andalus. This background is crucial to understanding the ‘Amirid dynasty’s influence, which dominated the Caliphate under Hisham II in the late 10th century. Al-Mansur, as Hajib, had consolidated his power by portraying himself as a defender of faith, launching yearly assaults on the Christian north. His son, ‘Abd al-Malik, continued these raids, increasingly relying on his Saqaaliba administrators.
Mujahid’s understanding of jihad as a means to legitimize power was intrinsic to his leadership, for his perspective diverged from other taifa rulers in Iberia. While rulers of Tortosa, Valencia, and Almeria, former administrative officials of the Caliphate, maintained a land-focused state, Mujahid envisioned Dénia as a frontier state, thriving on continuous ghazw and jihad.
Once a modest seaport, Dénia remarkably transformed under Mujahid al-’Amiri and his son Ali. They elevated the town into a flourishing regional center, fortified with strong defenses and urban advancements. This growth was further supported by Mujahid’s formidable military, augmented by the inclusion of Catalan mercenaries. In addition to these developments, Mujahid’s era in Dénia was also marked by a surge in intellectual and scholarly activities. A staunch advocate for theological and literary education, he had a deep-rooted interest in qirāʾāt, the practice of Quranic recitation. This fascination may have been inspired by his namesake, Ibn Mujahid, a celebrated scholar in qirāʾāt who died in 936 CE. Mujahid’s rule was characterized by political stability, which allowed for this cultural and scholarly renaissance.
While taxation contributed to funding these endeavors, it’s worth noting that the Taifa rulers, in general, were often criticized in Arabic records for their heavy-handed tax policies. Nevertheless, for a significant part of Mujahid’s rule, plunder, rather than taxation, was the state’s main financial resource. This shifted under Ali’s leadership when taxation became more central. Common perceptions of piracy focus on maritime attacks, but in the early Islamic world, the primary loot was human captives from raids. Ibn Hawqal, a 10th-century geographer, highlighted the significance of Pechina, a key Andalusian port in the 9th and 10th centuries, in the slave trade. While specific figures are hard to determine, several officials in the taifa of Dénia were former slaves.
Mujahid’s realm was defined not only by its land but predominantly by the sea routes linking it to the Mediterranean. His state thrived on trade with both Muslim and Christian harbors; however, it was the large-scale piracy that really marked its success. Mujahid continued the seafaring traditions of the Cordoban Caliphate, transforming local piracy into an official, state-run operation. His background in the former Caliphate influenced this strategy, but religious, political, and economic ambitions also drove it. His maritime jihad consolidated his authority during unstable times and laid the economic groundwork for his state. The Mediterranean’s Sea lanes were as vital to Dénia as its land.
Mujahid’s attempt to conquer Sardinia in 1015 CE is particularly notable. Known as Musetto in Latin records, he led a considerable force of 120 ships and a thousand horsemen. Despite initially capturing vast territories, his plans for Mediterranean control were thwarted in 1016 CE. A joint naval force from Pisa and Genoa, backed by the Pope, ousted him from the island. This setback didn’t stop his piracy, which remained central to Dénia’s strategy for years. Pisan records mention smaller-scale attacks in the following years. Ibn al-Khatib remarked that following Mujahid’s attack on Sardinia, the slave market was so saturated that prices plummeted.
Mujahid’s aggressive stance extended beyond Sardinia. In 1018, he launched a significant, though unsuccessful, raid on Narbonne. In the 1020s, Barcelona sought Norman mercenaries for protection against his raids. These tactics continued under his son, Ali, who, despite a more merchant-oriented approach, upheld the practice of maritime aggression against Christian territories. The Abbey of Lérins, situated off southern France, faced relentless assaults, with its monks eventually sold in Dénia’s markets. Dénia’s raids extended to Sardinia yet again, causing constant turmoil in the Western Mediterranean. Notably, Andalusian scholars from Dénia, one engaged in jihad, perished in conflicts around Sardinia mid-century. Religious texts from this era, like the life adaptations of S. Saturno and S. Gavino, reflect the fear of Muslim raids, reshaping local narratives to depict Muslim domination in the region.
Although Mujahid and ‘Ali might not have been directly involved in the slave trade in Dénia, they certainly exerted control over it. A notable instance occurred in 1046 when ‘Ali agreed to free monks captured and sold in Dénia at the request of Ramon Berenguer I, the Count of Barcelona. The slave trade was undoubtedly profitable for Mujahid and Ali, who received a legal share of the spoils and taxed goods and people at their port. However, the rise of Christian port cities in the Western Mediterranean gradually diminished piracy as a significant source of state revenue. Early signs of this shift were evident with the Pisans disrupting Muslim maritime activities as early as 1006 CE. Their expulsion of Mujahid from Sardinia emphasized their increasing power. By 1035, Pisan raids on North African and Sicilian ports had become bold and lucrative, signaling a shift in control over Mediterranean maritime routes. Muslim scholars’ biographies from this period are replete with accounts of pirate attacks, leading jurists to advise against sea travel, even for the pilgrimage to Mecca.
By the latter half of the century, the changing maritime landscape was acknowledged by figures like the poet Abu al-’Arab Mus’ab al-Siqilli, who declined an invitation to Seville, citing the dominance of “Roman (Christian) forces” at sea. This shift didn’t mark the end of Islamic piracy, but it certainly made privateering an unreliable source of income for Dénia’s rulers. Consequently, Mujahid and ‘Ali increasingly relied on taxation and currency issuance to compensate for the diminishing returns from piracy.
The growth of privateering in the Western Mediterranean during the Later Middle Ages was a strategic bid for dominance over sea lanes, reflecting a burgeoning political ambition. Cities like Pisa, Genoa, and Barcelona weren’t just engaging in maritime violence; they were effectively claiming territorial rights over these waters. While concrete evidence like letters of marque from the 11th century is lacking, the rulers of Dénia clearly used piracy as a political instrument. Mujahid and Ali’s strategies prefigured the maritime tactics of their later Mediterranean peers, serving as an early model of using piracy for political ends. Hence, Dénia’s approach mirrored its own fragmented territorial possessions on the Iberian Peninsula. Early Islamic political thought acknowledged only the frontier between the dar al-Islam (the Islamic world) and dar al-harb (the non-Islamic world), implying a unified Islamic realm under a singular Caliph-imām. However, the reality was a variety of distinct entities, where borders were more like transitional zones with shifting tax allegiances.
In the 11th century, Al-Andalus was partitioned among numerous polities, with their exact territorial extents nearly indiscernible. Castles that frequently changed hands, fortified, lost, recaptured, and sometimes traded, illustrated the taifas’ territorial volatility and their well-defined yet fluid borders. Dénia’s history demonstrates this dynamism; it continuously adapted, gaining and relinquishing control over strategic locations vital for its port and trade links with inland markets. A crucial moment in Dénia’s history was when al-Muqtadir ibn Hūd of Zaragoza sought to annex some of its fortifications, situated hundreds of kilometers away from both cities, likely near Alpuente. This request marked the beginning of Dénia’s decline, highlighting the significance of these distant but strategically important sites.
Ali’s command to his governors (‘ummāl) to uphold their allegiance and defend their posts was a pivotal moment, leading to Ibn Hūd’s attack. Dénia’s control extended to Baeza and Segura near Jaén, creating a complex overlap of territories with the taifas of Granada, Toledo, and likely Almería. The complex diplomatic and military maneuvers surrounding the loss of these areas highlight their integral role in Dénia’s realm, despite their widespread locations.
Moreover, Ibn Ṣumādih, in a conflict involving the taifas of Almeria and Granada, communicated to ‘Abd allah b. Buluqqin that territorial control hinged on constructing and occupying fortifications. While these sites (ḥuṣūn) served defensive objectives, their primary function was administrative and fiscal. Territories were conceived not through delineated borders but as networks of these ḥuṣūn. Significantly, Ibn Bassām refers to Dénia’s governors overseeing these fortifications as ‘ummāl, a term typically linked with fiscal duties. Furthermore, the Arabic word “ḥuṣūn” is the plural form of “ḥiṣn”, which primarily means a stronghold, fortress, or entrenchment. This term can also be used figuratively to describe a form of protection or defense. For example, in Islamic tradition, the phrase “There is no god but God” is metaphorically referred to as a fortress, suggesting a spiritual stronghold or sanctuary. Additionally, “ḥuṣūn” can denote armor or weapons, extending its meaning to physical forms of defense and protection.
Meanwhile, back to our subject, in the absence of definitive political boundaries, the taifa states emerged as zones of fiscal authority, maintained through military force. Tribute was the crucial connection between the state and local communities in Al-Andalus. A state’s territorial sovereignty is demarcated by its ability to extract revenue autonomously, without the need to pass it on to a superior authority. In Dénia’s case, where maritime piracy was a major revenue source, those sea lanes should be considered dynamic extensions of its fiscal territory. This is particularly true given Dénia’s initial dominance over these lanes. And although Dénia’s ships weren’t engaged in tax collection, their role wasn’t vastly different from military expeditions sent by rulers to enforce taxation in rebellious regions within their domain. This comparison raises questions about the selective criticism of such practices, pointing to a certain hypocrisy in blaming one side exclusively.
Nonetheless, during the later half of the 10th century, the Ligurian coast wasn’t spared from corsairing activities either. For instance, by 1041, Barcelona fortified its coastline for protection, and a Genoese charter from 1056 CE mandated foreign assistance in coastal defense against Muslim attacks. Mubashshar Nasir al-Dawla, Ali’s appointee in the Balearic Islands, also embraced piracy fervently, and by 1069, Elne, a southern French town, relocated its church inland to escape Balearic raids. Despite Dénia’s fall to Zaragoza in 1076, Mubashshar’s “jihad on the sea” persisted until 1115, when Pisa and Barcelona’s fleets finally defeated him. While piracy was common across Iberian and North African ports, none matched Dénia’s notoriety.
It’s worth noting the event that led to Mubashshar’s demise. It started in 1113 CE when Pope Pascal II endorsed a crusade against these islands. The combined forces of Pisa, Genoa, and Barcelona, in an imposing naval assemblage, captured Ibiza and Majorca, turning the tide of this ongoing conflict. The historian Ibn Kardabus narrates the events of 1114 in vivid detail. He details the Christian alliance’s construction of a 300-ship fleet that first attacked Ibiza, seizing wealth and prisoners. They then moved on to Majorca. The governance of these islands had been unstable since the decline of the Umayyads in Al-Andalus. Al-Murtada, initially appointed as the governor of the Balearic Islands by the Taifa ruler of Dénia in 1076 and later becoming the independent ruler of the islands until his death in 1094, was succeeded by his eunuch, Mubashshar, who hailed from Qal`at Hamir (Castelldasens). Known for his noble spirit and intelligence, Mubashshar had ascended to prominence despite his early capture and castration by enemies. Al-Murtada had discovered Mubashshar’s potential and brought him into his inner circle, recognizing his kingly qualities.
When the Christians invaded, Mubashshar valiantly defended his rule until his death. His relative, Abul-Rabi’a Sulaiman, took over but eventually succumbed to the Christian onslaught. In desperation, Mubashshar had sought help from ‘Ali ibn Yusuf ibn Tashufin of the Almoravids, managing to send a message through a corvette’s captain, Abu ‘Abd-Allah ibn Maimun. Despite a vigorous pursuit by the Christians, the corvette vanished into the night. Its successful journey to the Emir of the Muslims, ‘Ali ibn Yusuf, spurred an urgent response. Within a month, a mighty Almoravid fleet of 300 ships was built and assembled, ready to intervene. Meanwhile, Ibn Maimun, the corvette’s captain, was honored with a significant appointment.
Upon learning of the Muslim fleet’s departure, the Christian forces hastily evacuated the island, content with the wealth and captives they had seized. However, they left behind a scene of destruction: the city was scorched, its streets enveloped in darkness and despair, its beauty marred by the scars of conflict. The Muslim commander, Ibn Taqirtas, along with his Almoravid warriors, arrived to a somber sight. Alongside a diverse group of faith defenders and local inhabitants, they commenced a mission of restoration and immediately set to work, reviving the city from its ashes. They rallied those who had fled to the mountains, and together, they began the arduous task of rebuilding their homes and restoring normalcy. Once the city was on its path to recovery, the fleet returned to its homeland. Meanwhile, the retreating Christian ships faced nature’s wrath. A violent storm scattered them, driving four ships toward the coast of Dénia. There, the Muslim admiral Abu’l-Saddad confronted them. In a swift confrontation, the Christians, overwhelmed, fled in disarray. One of their ships sank, overwhelmed by Abu’l-Saddad’s prowess, while the remaining three were pursued relentlessly.
A century later, al-Idrisi noted Dénia was still used as a primary base for fleets targeting Christian shores, with many ships constructed there. Verily, both Mujahid and ‘Ali heavily invested in naval infrastructure, building shipyards and ports in Dénia, along the coast, and in Majorca. Dénia’s territorial expansion matched the areas supplying timber for its fleet, underscoring the centrality of piracy in its statecraft.
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The content used in this article was taken from my new tome, The Book of Pirates and Corsairs: Part I: Ageless Seas of Infamy:
The images in this article have been generated.
