by Tahir Shah
And, as the scientists began to understand their world from the inside out, they developed new fields of study. Modern chemistry may owe more to Arab science than any other area. Its very name is, of course, derived from al-kemia, the Arab word for alchemy.
Although alchemy was very important, and had come to the Arabs from both India and the Roman Empire, we now understand increasingly how many Abbasid scientists rejected the belief in transmuting base metals into gold.
Arab breakthroughs in chemistry were plentiful, and were aided by new scientific practices, as we have seen. They included the isolation of new chemicals and an array of technical processes.
Distillation equipment, for instance, was developed – including alembic apparatus, stills and retorts – allowing for alcohol to be distilled for the first time. The product was used for perfume and in medical sterilization, rather than for drinking.
Kerosene, which was used in lamps, was distilled from crude oil by al-Razi in ninth century Baghdad. He described the process in his Kitab al-Asrar, Book of Secrets. Other petroleum products were known and used. The streets of Baghdad, for instance, were paved with tar in the eighth century. And Arab scientists first distilled crude oil to create a form of what we know as petrol.
Other processes were developed and refined, including crystallization, filtration, and steam distillation. Strong acids were created for the first time, such as nitric, hydrochloric, and sulphuric acid. Amazingly, the Greeks and Romans had only known and used vinegar. At the same time, other elements were discovered, such as arsenic and antimony, and the chemical elements were clearly divided into categories and studied.
The result was a range of products which made ordinary life much better. Soap, for instance, was manufactured for the first time; and even glue was made… from cheese – a secret recipe described in ibn Hayyan’s The Book of the Hidden Pearl.
Cosmetics were developed as well, including those by the fabulous-sounding ‘Ziryab’, ‘The Blackbird’ – a former Persian slave, who is also credited with inventing toothpaste. The idea caught on like nothing else. He went on to open a beauty parlour in Andalusian Spain and, supposedly, pioneered underarm deodorants and the chemical removal of unwanted body hair for women.
Other inventions of the time, far less whimsical, were snapped up by the military. Potassium nitrate (otherwise known as saltpetre), for example, enabled a complete recipe for gunpowder in the tenth century. Gunpowder had been made and discussed for a long time, but the first book dedicated to it was written in the thirteenth century by Hasan al-Rammah, entitled The Book of Military Horsemanship and Ingenious War Devices.
The breakthroughs in chemistry led to an upsurge of new techniques, not only in medicine, as we have seen, but in all kinds of unrelated areas. Ceramic glazes, for instance – such as lustreware – were by-products of the new know-how, as were stained glass and advances in metallurgy. That science was of particular importance, as it allowed steel blades unlike any other to be crafted – like the extraordinary watered steel of Damascus, which has only recently been replicated by modern scientists, its secret having been lost for centuries.
What’s so interesting to consider is how breakthroughs came about as a result of pondering questions that were themselves at the root of early Islamic life. One area to which a huge amount of expertise was devoted was the quest to improve knowledge and understanding in the physical sciences. What was essentially an obsession came about partly through a need for accurate information – information that related to the Islamic faith. After all, the entire Islamic faith needed to know when to begin and end Ramadan, as well as when to pray, and in which direction Mecca lay.
Mosques often had their own astronomer, a muqqawit, to determine the time for prayer. They had their own observatories as well. Calendars of prayer times and Ramadan dates, Eid and so forth, were vital, and were created through a knowledge of astronomy. These astronomers developed elaborate cosmological charts and instruments for determining the most favourable moment to begin a battle or to set out on a journey, such as the Hajj. All this knowledge in turn fuelled breakthroughs in mathematics, geometry, and geography.
The Arabs based their astronomical research principally on the works of Ptolemy and the work of the seventh century Indian mathematician-astronomer Brahmagupta.
In astronomy, the key Arab breakthrough was in correcting long-standing errors in the Ptolemaic system. A number of the great Arab polymaths turned their hands to the field, seemingly effortlessly. These corrections and breakthroughs were eventually absorbed into the works of Copernicus and the Renaissance astronomers. Importantly, it was the Abbasid Arabs who distinguished between astronomy and astrology for the first time. For the Abbasids, astronomy was regarded as a key science.
The eleventh century Persian astronomer, Al-Biruni, proposed that the Milky Way was a collection of nebulous stars. And, Ibn Bajjah (known in the Occident as Avempace) concluded in the twelfth century that the Milky Way was a vast collection of stars, one which appeared to be a continuous entity because of the effect of refraction in the Earth’s atmosphere. It wasn’t until 1610, when Galileo studied the Milky Way with a telescope, that he discovered it was composed of a huge number of faint stars.
As a by-product, Arab astronomy developed numerous pieces of equipment for measuring angles and so forth – such as quadrants and, importantly, astrolabes. These were used for measuring the distance of celestial bodies above the horizon, as well as in determining latitude.
And it was astronomy that led indirectly to breakthroughs in yet another area – geography. The lightning speed with which Islam had spread by the eighth century – from Iberia to modern Afghanistan – paved the way for a complete reappraisal of geography. New information was flooding in to research centres in Baghdad, Cairo, Damascus, Cordoba and elsewhere, and new technology (such as quadrants and astrolabes) was used to create ever-more-accurate maps.
Perhaps the greatest map of all was Al-Idrisi’s twelfth century atlas, prepared for the Norman King Roger II of Sicily (in 1154 CE). It incorporated Africa, Europe, Asia Minor, India and the known world, stretching eastward to the Far East. The first atlas of its kind ever produced, it took eighteen years to complete.
As astronomy developed, so did mathematics and geometry. The great Arab polymaths changed the world in which we live through their mastery of mathematics.
Without doubt the most important breakthrough was the language of mathematics: the introduction of ‘Arabic’ numerals from India, and the use for the first time of a decimal point. The Arab golden age was a time of conduits – none more striking than that which linked the Classical world with that of the Renaissance.
Introducing Zero to mainstream mathematics was the other astonishing breakthrough, the idea of representing ‘nothing’ with a symbol. It was such an inspired concept that we can even now hardly grasp its importance.
In the ninth century, Persian polymath al-Khwarizmi gave us algorithms, which form the basis of most computer programming… indeed our word ‘algorithm’ is derived from his name. Al-Khwarizmi is credited with writing the first book on algebra as well. Its title was The Compendious Book on Calculation by Completion and Balancing and it was published in about 820 CE.
Arab mathematics honed the work of the Greeks and the Romans, as well as that of South Asia. And this work was channelled directly into Europe through Islamic Spain and, with time, was made available to the great minds of the Renaissance.
The availability of a rock solid mathematical framework allowed the offshoots to proliferate. And, the contributions of some breakthroughs are only now being discovered. Little more than twenty years ago, a scholar roving through the Ottoman archives in Istanbul happened upon a manuscript which, it seems, had lain dormant for more than a thousand years. Entitled On Deciphering Cryptographic Messages, the work was none other than al-Kindi’s treatise on cryptanalysis: the first paper ever to describe what was – until quite recently – the backbone of all code-breaking.
>
The golden age was a time of wonder and a time of excellence – so many fine minds coming together, reaching new intellectual frontiers. And, for all the number-crunching and dry scholarship, there were dazzling outgrowths.
My favourite area of all is that of the inventions.
I’ve mentioned a few already – devices in medicine, chemistry and astronomy. But there are whole other areas in which the Arabs excelled.
Arab engineers learned from the Romans, Greeks, and from their own scientists, arriving at creations that demonstrated their astonishing ingenuity. Some extended life and improved living conditions, while others were more whimsical, as we shall see.
Engineers were hugely important during the Abbasid Caliphate. When the tenth century Persian physicist and polymath, Ibn al-Haytham (Alhazen) reached Cairo, the Caliph himself went to the gates to great him. He had been invited to regulate the flooding on the Nile. It soon dawned on him that he couldn’t solve the problem. The only way to save his neck was to feign madness and live for years under house arrest, biding his time until the Caliph’s own death.
Windmills were a key piece of technology, and one that has come to the fore again, as we harness the winds. They were first described by Persian geographer Estakhri in the ninth century. Being used to grind corn and draw up water, they reached Europe through Islamic Spain.
And the first hydro-powered water supply system – driven by gears – was developed by al-Jazari in Damascus to supply water to the city’s mosques and hospitals. Fès had a similar system which worked until relatively recently, the remnants clearly visible in the medina, on Talaa Kebira.
And, as I have said, water was used to power paper mills and all sorts of other ingenious devices. Water wheels, or ‘norias’ as they are known, were developed for feeding water into aqueducts. The newly invented crankshaft was added, and the technology was constantly refined.
In addition to crankshafts, Arab engineers devised flywheels, chain pumps, gearing systems, suction pumps, and automata.
The greatest and most celebrated engineer of the era was without doubt al-Jazari, whose technical breakthroughs in the twelfth century can still be found all around us today. His masterwork was The Book of Knowledge of Ingenious Mechanical Devices. He developed the first automatic gates, run on water power, as well as accurate water clocks, and the flush mechanism still used in toilets. But it was his work with humanoid automata that gained him the most attention. His full-sized models of people would serve chilled drinks and play music, wooing his wealthy patrons, and so ensuring that funding for his real work didn’t dry up.
Al-Jazari’s most brilliant yet fanciful device was a vast elephant clock, powered by water, and featuring a dragon, a phoenix, and a golden howdah upon which a prince was seated. Shortly after this pièce de résistance of curious engineering was created, the golden age of the Abbasids came to an abrupt end.
It was as if the ‘stop’ button was pressed on a culture that had achieved so much in such a remarkably short span of time. The reason for this cessation of know-how?
The Mongol invasion.
In 1257, the grandson of Genghis Khan, Hulagu Khan, set out for Baghdad with a vast army. The Caliph refused to surrender and enraged the Mongol leader with threats. Worse still, he hadn’t strengthened the city walls or prepared for a siege. As a result, victory was swift, the siege lasting less than two weeks. The Caliph capitulated on February 10th 1258.
Seven days and nights followed of looting, rape, pillage, and utter destruction. Baghdad was sacked and burned to the ground. The waters of the Tigris were said to have run black with ink for weeks when the House of Wisdom’s and other libraries were hurled into the river.
The Caliph was, it was said, rolled up in a carpet before the Mongols rode their horses up and down over him. So great was the stench of death and decay that Hulagu had to move his camp upwind of the city. As for Baghdad, the great capital of learning, it lay ruined for centuries – its population, wealth, and treasure houses of knowledge decimated.
Rather than end on the thought of Mongolian slaughter, I’d like to conclude with a glimmer of hope.
In the centuries since the golden age of the Abbasids, some good scholarship has taken place in translating and studying the surviving works from Bayt al Hikma, the House of Wisdom. As I have described, the availability of affordable paper – coupled with literacy and the pilgrimage routes – allowed scholars to send copies of their works to libraries thousands of miles away. The result was that a great number of key texts survived the Mongol horde. Indeed, there are far more Arabic manuscripts in existence from medieval Islam than from the Roman and Greek world.
And the glimmer of hope… thousands of Arabic texts are still untranslated, lying dormant in archives and libraries across the West and the East.
And so, the next time you reach for your mobile phone, or write an email on your laptop, or use Google, please spare a thought for the golden age of the Abbasids.
After all, without them, I doubt that many of us would be here today.
The End
Tahirshah.com
