Christianity and Islam in Spain, A.D. 756-1031 Part 1

Christianity and Islam in Spain (756-1031).

by Charles Reginald Haines.

CHAPTER I.

THE GOTHS IN SPAIN.

Just about the time when the Romans withdrew from Britain, leaving so many of their possessions behind them, the Suevi, Alani, and Vandals, at the invitation of Gerontius, the Roman governor of Spain, burst into that province over the unguarded pa.s.ses of the Pyrenees.[1] Close on their steps followed the Visigoths; whose king, taking in marriage Placidia, the sister of Honorius, was acknowledged by the helpless emperor independent ruler of such parts of Southern Gaul and Spain as he could conquer and keep for himself. The effeminate and luxurious provincials offered practically no resistance to the fierce Teutons. No Arthur arose among them, as among the warlike Britons of our own island; no Viriathus even, as in the struggle for independence against the Roman Commonwealth. Mariana, the Spanish historian, a.s.serts that they preferred the rule of the barbarians. However this may be, the various tribes that invaded the country found no serious opposition among the Spaniards: the only fighting was between themselves--for the spoil. Many years of warfare were necessary to decide this important question of supremacy. Fortunately for Spain, the Vandals, who seem to have been the fiercest horde and under the ablest leader, rapidly forced their way southward, and, pa.s.sing on to fresh conquests, crossed the Straits of Gibraltar in 429: not, however, before they had utterly overthrown their rivals, the Suevi, on the river Baetis, and had left an abiding record of their brief stay in the name Andalusia.

[1] "Inter barbaros pauperem libertatem quam inter Romanos tributariam sollicitudinem sustinere."--Mariana, apud Dunham, vol i.

For a time it seemed likely that the Suevi, in spite of their late crus.h.i.+ng defeat, would subject to themselves the whole of Spain, but under Theodoric II. and Euric, the Visigoths definitely a.s.serted their superiority. Under the latter king the Gothic domination in Spain may be said to have begun about ten years before the fall of the Western Empire. But the Goths were as yet by no means in possession of the whole of Spain. A large part of the south was held by imperialist troops; for, though the Western Empire had been extinguished in 476, the Eastern emperor had succeeded by inheritance to all the outlying provinces, which had even nominally belonged to his rival in the West. Among these was some portion of Spain.

It was not till 570, the year in which Mohammed was born, that a king came to the Gothic throne strong enough to crush the Suevi and to reduce the imperialist garrisons in the South; and it was not till 622, the very year of the Flight from Mecca, that a Gothic king, Swintila, finally drove out all the Emperor's troops, and became king in reality of all Spain.

Scarcely had this been well done, when we perceive the first indications of the advent of a far more terrible foe, the rumours of whose irresistible prowess had marched before them. The dread, which the Arabs aroused even in distant Spain as early as a century after the birth of Mohammed, may be appreciated from the despairing lines of Julian,[1]

bishop of Toledo:--

"Hei mihi! quam timeo, ne nos malus implicet error, Demur et infandis gentibus opprobrio!

Africa plena viris bellacibus arma minatur, Inque dies victrix gens Agarena furit."

Before giving an account of the Saracen invasion and its results, it will be well to take a brief retrospect of the condition of Christianity in Spain under the Gothic domination, and previous to the advent of the Moslems.

[1] Migne's "Patrologie," vol. xcvi. p. 814.

There can be no doubt that Christianity was brought very early into Spain by the preaching, as is supposed, of St Paul himself, who is said to have made a missionary journey through Andalusia, Valencia, and Aragon. On the other hand, there are no grounds whatever for supposing that James, the brother of John, ever set foot in Spain. The "invention"

of his remains at Ira Flavia in the 9th century, together with the story framed to account for their presence in a remote corner of Spain so far from the scene of the Apostle's martyrdom, is a fable too childish to need refutation.

The honour of first hearing the Gospel message has been claimed (but, it seems, against probability) for Illiberis.[1] However that may be, the early establishment of Christianity in Spain is attested by Irenaeus, who appeals to the Spanish Church as retaining the primitive doctrine.[2]

The long roll of Spanish martyrs begins in the persecution of Domitian (95 A.D.) with the name of Eugenius, bishop of Toledo. In most of the succeeding persecutions Spain furnished her full quota of martyrs, but she suffered most under Diocletian (303). It was in this emperor's reign that nearly all the inhabitants of Caesar Augusta were treacherously slaughtered on the sole ground of their being Christians; thus earning for their native city from the Christian poet Prudentius,[3] the proud t.i.tle of "patria sanctorum martyrum."

[1] Florez, "Espana Sagrada," vol. iii. pp. 361 ff.

[2] Bk. I. ch. x. 2 (A.D. 186).

[3] 348-402 A.D.

The persecution of Diocletian, though the fiercest, was at the same time the last, which afflicted the Church under the Roman Empire. Diocletian indeed proclaimed that he had blotted out the very name of Christian and abolished their hateful superst.i.tion. This even to the Romans must have seemed an empty boast, and the result of Diocletian's efforts only proved the truth of the old maxim--"the blood of martyrs is the seed of the Church."

The Spanish Christians about this time[1] held the first ecclesiastical council whose acts have come down to us. This Council of Illiberis, or Elvira, was composed of nineteen bishops and thirty-six presbyters, who pa.s.sed eighty canons.

[1] The date is doubtful. Blunt, "Early Christianity," p. 209, places it between 314 and 325, though in a hesitating manner.

Other dates given are 300 and 305.

The imperial edict of toleration was issued in 313, and in 325 was held the first General Council of the Church under the presidency of the emperor, Constantine, himself an avowed Christian. Within a quarter of a century of the time when Diocletian had boasted that he had extirpated the Christian name, it has been computed that nearly one half of the inhabitants of his empire were Christians.

The toleration, so long clamoured for, so lately conceded, was in 341 put an end to by the Christians themselves, and Pagan sacrifices were prohibited. So inconsistent is the conduct of a church militant and a church triumphant! In 388, after a brief eclipse under Julian, Christianity was formally declared by the Senate to be the established religion of the Roman Empire.

But the security, or rather predominance, thus suddenly acquired by the church, resting as it did in part upon royal favour and court intrigue, did not tend to the spiritual advancement of Christianity. Almost coincident with the Edict of Milan was the appearance of Arianism, which, after dividing the Church against itself for upwards of half-a-century, and almost succeeding at one time in imposing itself on the whole Church,[1] finally under the missionary zeal of Ulphilas found a new life among the barbarian nations that were pressing in upon all the northern boundaries of the Empire, ready, like eagles, to swoop down and feast upon her mighty carcase.

[1] At the Council of Rimini in 360. "Ingemuit totus...o...b..s,"

says Jerome, "et Arianum se esse miratus est."

Most of these barbaric hordes, like the Goths and the Vandals, adopted the semi-Arian Christianity first preached to them by Ulphilas towards the close of the fourth century. Consequently the nations that forced their way into Southern Gaul, and over the Pyrenees into Spain, were, nominally at least, Christians of the Arian persuasion. The extreme importance to Spain of the fact of their being Christians at all will be readily apprehended by contrasting the fate of the Spanish provincials with that which befell the Christian and Romanized Britons at the hands of our own Saxon forefathers only half-a-century later.

Meanwhile the Church in Spain, like the Church elsewhere, freed from the quickening and purifying influences of persecution, had lost much of its ancient fervour. Gladiatorial shows and lascivious dances on the stage began to be tolerated even by Christians, though they were denounced by the more devout as incompatible with the profession of the Christian faith.

Spain also furnishes us with the first melancholy spectacle of Christian blood shed by Christian hands. Priscillian, bishop of Avila, was led into error by his intercourse with an Egyptian gnostic. What his error exactly was is not very clear, but it seems to have comprised some of the erroneous doctrines attributed to Manes and Sabellius. In 380, the new heresy, with which two other bishops besides Priscillian became infected, was condemned at a council held at Saragoza, and by another held five years later at Bordeaux. Priscillian himself and six other persons were executed with tortures at the instigation of Ithacius,[1]

bishop of Sossuba, and Idacius, bishop of Merida, in spite of the protests of Martin of Tours and others. The heresy itself, however, was not thus stamped out, and continued in Spain until long after the Gothic conquest.

There is some reason for supposing that at the time of the Gothic invasion Spain was still in great part Pagan, and that it continued to be so during the whole period of Gothic domination.[2] Some Pagans undoubtedly lingered on even as late as the end of the sixth century,[3]

but that there were any large numbers of them as late as the eighth century is improbable.

Dr Dunham, who has given a clear and concise account of the Gothic government in Spain, calls it the "most accursed that ever existed in Europe."[4] This is too sweeping a statement, though it must be allowed that the haughty exclusiveness of the Gothic n.o.bles rendered their yoke peculiarly galling, while the position of their slaves was wretched beyond all example. However, it is not to their civil administration that we wish now to draw attention, but rather to the relations of Church and State under a Gothic administration which was at first Arian and subsequently orthodox.

[1] See Milman, "Latin Christianity," vol. iii. p. 60.

[2] Dozy, ii. 44, quotes in support of this the second canon of the Sixteenth Council of Toledo.

[3] Mason, a bishop of Merida, was said to have baptized a Pagan as late as this.

[4] Dunham's "Hist. of Spain," vol. i. p. 210.

The Government, which began with being of a thoroughly military character, gradually tended to become a theocracy--a result due in great measure to the inst.i.tution of national councils, which were called by the king, and attended by all the chief ecclesiastics of the realm. Many of the n.o.bles and high dignitaries of the State also took part in these a.s.semblies, though they might not vote on purely ecclesiastical matters.

These councils, of which there were nineteen in all (seventeen held at Toledo, the Gothic capital, and two elsewhere), gradually a.s.sumed the power of ratifying the election of the king, and of dictating his religious policy. Thus by the Sixth Council of Toledo (canon three) it was enacted that all kings should swear "not to suffer the exercise of any other religion than the Catholic, and to vigorously enforce the law against all dissentients, especially against that accursed people the Jews." The fact of the monarchy becoming elective[1] no doubt contributed a good deal to throwing the power into the hands of the clergy.

Dr Dunham remarks that these councils tended to make the bishops subservient to the court, but surely the evidence points the other way.

On the whole it was the king that lost power, though no doubt as a compensation he gained somewhat more authority over Church matters. He could, for instance, issue temporary regulations with regard to Church discipline. Witiza, one of the last of the Gothic kings, seems even to have authorized, or at least encouraged, the marriage of his clergy.[2]

The king could preside in cases of appeal in purely ecclesiastical affairs; and we know that Recared I. (587-601) and Sisebert (612-621) did in fact exercise this right. He also gained the power of nominating and translating bishops; but it is not clear when this privilege was first conceded to the king.[3] The Fourth Council of Toledo (633) enacted that a bishop should be elected by the clergy and people of his city, and that his election should be approved by the metropolitan and synod of his province: while the Twelfth Council, held forty-eight years later, evidently recognizes the validity of their appointment by royal warrant alone. Some have referred this innovation back to the despotic rule of Theodoric the Ostrogoth, at the beginning of the sixth century; others to the sudden acc.u.mulation of vacant sees on the fall of Arianism in Spain. Another important power possessed by the kings was that of convoking these national councils, and confirming their acts.

[1] In 531 A.D.

[2] Monk of Silo, sec. 14, who follows Sebastian of Salamanca; Robertson, iii. 6. We learn from the "Chron. Sil," sec. 27, that Fruela (757-768) forbade the marriage of clergy. But these accounts of Witiza's reign are all open to suspicion.

[3] Robertson, "Hist. of Christian Church," vol. iii. p. 183.

The sudden surrender of their Arianism by the Gothic king and n.o.bles is a noticeable phenomenon. All the barbarian races that invaded Spain at the beginning of the fifth century were inoculated with the Arian heresy. Of these the Vandals carried their Arianism, which proved to be of a very persecuting type, into Africa. The Suevi, into which nation the Alani, under the pressure of a common enemy, had soon been absorbed, gave up their Arianism for the orthodox faith about 560. The Visigoths, however, remained Arians until a somewhat later period--until 589 namely, when Recared I., the son of Leovigild, held a national council and solemnly abjured the creed of his forefathers, his example being followed by many of his n.o.bles and bishops.

The Visigoths, while they remained Arian, were on the whole remarkably tolerant[1] towards both Jews and Catholics, though we have instances to the contrary in the cases of Euric and Leovigild, who are said to have persecuted the orthodox party. The latter king, indeed, who was naturally of a mild and forgiving temper, was forced into harsh measures by the unfilial and traitorous conduct of his son Ermenegild. If the latter had been content to avow his conversion to orthodoxy without entering into a treasonable rebellion in concert with the Suevi and Imperialists against his too indulgent father, there is every reason to think that Leovigild would have taken no measures against him. Even after a second rebellion the king offered to spare his son's life--which was forfeit to the State--on condition that he renounced his newly-adopted creed, and returned to the Arian fold. His reason--a very intelligible one--no doubt was that he might put an end to the risk of a third rebellion by separating his son effectually from the intriguing party of Catholics. To call Ermenegild a martyr because he was put to death under such circ.u.mstances is surely an abuse of words.

[1] Lecky, "Rise of Rationalism," vol. i. p. 14, note, says that the Arian Goths were intolerant; but there seem to be insufficient grounds for the a.s.sertion.

With the fall of Arianism came a large accession of bigotry to the Spanish Church, as is sufficiently shewn by the canon above quoted from the Sixth Council of Toledo. A subsequent law was even pa.s.sed forbidding anyone under pain of confiscation of his property and perpetual imprisonment, to call in question the Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church; the Evangelical Inst.i.tutions; the definitions of the Fathers; the decrees of the Church; and the Sacraments. In the spirit of these enactments, severe measures were taken against the Jews, of whom there were great numbers in Spain. Sisebert (612-621) seems to have been the first systematic persecutor, whose zeal, as even Isidore confesses, was "not according to knowledge."[1] A cruel choice was given the Jews between baptism on the one hand, and scourging and dest.i.tution on the other. When this proved unavailing, more stringent edicts were enforced against them. Those who under the pressure of persecution consented to be baptised, were forced to swear by the most solemn of oaths that they had in very truth renounced their Jewish faith and abhorred its rites.

Those who still refused to conform were subjected to every indignity and outrage. They were obliged to have Christian servants, and to observe Sunday and Easter. They were denied the _s connubii_ and the _ius honorum_. Their testimony was invalid in law courts, unless a Christian vouched for their character. Some who still held out were even driven into exile. But this punishment could not have been systematically carried out, for the Saracen invasion found great numbers of Jews still in Spain. As Dozy[2] well says of the persecutors--"On le voulut bien, mais on ne le pouvait pas."

[1] Apud Florez, "Esp. Sagr.," vol. vi. p. 502, quoted by Southey, Roderic, p. 255, n. "Sisebertus, qui in initio regni Judaeos ad fidem Christianam permovens, aemulationem quidem habuit, sed non secundum scientiam: potestate enim compulit, quos provocare fidei ratione oportuit. Sed, sicut est scriptum, sive per occasionem sive per veritatem Christus annunciatur, in hoc gaudeo et gaudebo."