Coming back to this blog

Dear reader

This project went on hold last June, and it has been difficult to get it going again.

The first 500 years of our era were a strange time, and I am struggling to find anything to attract me there. The light of human brilliance, which this blog is an attempt to follow, was decidedly dim.

In the west, it was the era of the Roman Empire and early christianity. As a first impression and massive generalisation, it is as if what came with Jesus blew the collective mental circuitry of the humans who were touched by his teachings. The message of a man who exhorted his followers to love each other and pursue righteousness became an excuse for a bloodbath. Two christians with slightly different views on who Jesus was and what he meant would attempt to annihilate each other in the name of christian righteousness. Not only that, in the name of the same peaceful saviour the christians attempted to destroy the remains of the learning that had been safeguarded from the ancient world, because it did not originate from Jesus.

However, the world was not entirely bleak. This was the time of the flowering of the Gupta Empire in India. There was stable government and there were advances in learning and the arts. Gupta mathematicians developed the concept of zero. The game of chess was invented. Although the Gupta emperors were Hindus, other religions were tolerated.

Statue of the Buddha elucidating the teachings, Uttar Pradesh, India, 5th-6th century.

In the Sasanian Empire, there were a series of teachers of wisdom. The best-remembered is probably Mani, who tried to fuse the good religion and christianity. He lived in the third century. However, there were others, one of whom, Mazdak, will be the subject of the next post in this blog.


The Other

The Roman Empire is still with us, alive and well in the 21st century. It is in the army, with its regiments and barracks. It is in large business enterprises, with their hierarchies and top-down approach. It is in the national administration, in the debate and argument across the floor of parliament. It is in farming, with the concept that a human being can buy and take ownership of a parcel of land, to do with more or less as they wish. It is a place in which the premise is that the system will look after you if you have something it can use and will abide by its rules.

For the Roman Empire in the first half-millennium of our era there was one adversary that they could never defeat, with whom they were almost constantly at war. This adversary clearly ran with different values from theirs. For Rome it was hard to conceive that anyone could be as successful as themselves without being Roman. And so they characterised them as the Other.

The Other, of course, is Persia. A land of magicians (the three Magi who visited Jesus came from there), of legendary armies, a dangerous place of exotic mystery. The characterisation of Persia as the Other is still there, in our popular culture. If you ever watched Babylon 5 they are the Minbari. If you read the Narnia books by C S Lewis they are the Calormenes. It is wherever you see characterisations of a successful, clever and powerful people who don’t play by our rules. It represents a worldview that was never incorporated into the Roman way of seeing the world which, as I say, is still with us. Western culture can’t deny its power and sophistication but can’t quite understand how it has achieved it.

At the time we have reached in this backwards history, around 500CE, Persia was flourishing under the Sasanian Empire. The Empire was known as Iranshahr, the realm of the Iranians. Its ruler was the shahinshah, the king of kings. Each region had its own king, usually related to or ruling with the endorsement of the shahinshah in the capital at Ctesiphon in Mesopotamia.

Sasanian drinking vessels

The artwork was sophisticated but definitely different from what was known in the Roman world.

The cultural mores were different too. I’ll name the most contentious I have come across so far. In the Roman world there is still a major taboo: the incest taboo. Dispensation had to be obtained from the Pope for a marriage between close relatives. In Iranshahr, as earlier in ancient Egypt, incest among the nobility was actively encouraged, possibly the norm.

As a window into the Sasanian world I will use a piece of literature. The Book of Arda Viraf, also known as Arda Viraz Namag, is a story whose theme we have come across twice before. It is the story of a man who was nominated to make a guided trip through heaven, purgatory and hell, and then told the tale of what he saw. It quite clearly is the precursor of Mohammed’s Night Journey, which in turn was the inspiration for Dante’s Divine Comedy.

But the sins that sent a person to the hell that Arda Viraf visited are different from the sins that Dante described.

The story takes place in a time of uncertainty for the adherents of the good religion, the mazda-worshippers (known nowadays as Zoroastrians). They began to question whether their ceremonies and rituals were inspired by God or the demons. They decided to select one person to visit the other world to ask this question.

Seven men were chosen, all of whom had no doubt of God and the good religion. Then they drew lots three times, and the name that came up each time was Arda Viraf.  Viraf agreed to make the journey.

Viraf had seven sisters, all of whom he was married to. They strongly objected to his being sent to the land of the dead before his time. They were like seven lintels on his post. When the post was taken away the lintels would fall, they said. They were assured that Viraf would return to them in seven days.

Viraf washed and put on new clothes, then perfumed himself. He then sat on  a new, clean carpet laid out on a prepared couch, ate food and made his devotions. He was then given three cups of wine and narcotics, he said grace and fell asleep. His sisters and the priests tended the fire and sat around the carpet reciting the scriptures of the good religion, to keep watch over him while he slept. After seven days he woke up as if from a pleasant sleep. He then told the story of what he had seen.

Arda Viraf begins his journey.

He told that he met his guides, Srosh the Pious and Adar the Angel. They took him to the Chinwad Bridge, the first place the souls of the dead come to. There he met a beautiful lady. He asked who she was, and was told she was his religion and deeds. ‘I am thy actions O youth, of good thoughts, good words and good deeds, of good religion’ was her response. She explained she was more virtuous, more stout, more worthy, more exalted, more resplendent as a consequence of his actions.

Next, he was taken to purgatory. This, he was told, was the place of the souls of men whose good works and sin were equal. He was shown people who had done good works but had not performed the rituals of the good religion or contracted next-of-kin marriage.

Then he was taken to Heaven. It was bright and radiant. He saw richly-dressed women who had performed the ceremonies, who honoured the water and the fire and the earth and the cattle and sheep. He saw the souls of great and truthful speakers, of warriors, of kings, farmers and artisans, all of whom had made the observances and done their duty. To Viraf  it all seemed sublime.

The next stop was a river, a gloomy place. Some people crossed easily, others with difficulty and some not at all. It was explained that this was the river of tears. Those who had wept and lamented for the dead were not able to cross it.

It was explained to him that just as he had met a beautiful woman on the Chinwad bridge, a wicked person would meet a filthy, stinking, skinny naked woman, the embodiment of his bad words, thoughts and deeds.

Next stop was hell. Here he saw souls undergoing various torments. A woman had to eat the impurity and filth of men as punishment for going near fire and water while she was menstruating. A man measuring out dust and ashes and then eating them had watered the wine and mixed dust into grain and otherwise given false measure. A man suspended in the air and flogged by fifty demons had been a bad ruler. A man whose limbs kept breaking apart had unlawfully slaughtered farm animals. And so it goes on: people who lied, polluted fire or water, kept back money that wasn’t theirs to keep, did not acknowledge their children, killed pious people or their own children, or committed adultery.

After this awfulness Viraf was taken back to the presence of Ohramazd, Ahura mazda. He heard the words, “A perfect servant art thou, pious Arda Viraf, the messenger of the Mazdayasnians; go to the material world, and as thou hast seen and understood, speak truly to the worlds; for I, who am Ohramazd, am with thee.” He was amazed that he could hear Ohramazd speaking but saw only light. Ohramazd told him to tell the people to remain in piety, not to turn from it in prosperity, adversity or any other way. To practise good words, good thoughts and good deeds, to stay in the religion as it had been received by Zoroaster.

He made a deep bow to Ohramazd, and Srosh the Pious brought him back to the carpet.

(The story can be found here:


The consequences of Constantine

During his tenure as Roman emperor from 306 to 337, Constantine was responsible for two world-changing acts. First, he chose a location for a new capital city on the shores of the Bosphorus. The city carried his name for the next thousand years and more. Constantinople’s defensible position enabled it to withstand invasion from the huns, the muslim armies,the mongols and others. It was a centre of civilisation and stability. The city finally fell to the Ottoman Turks in 1453 and was renamed as Istanbul.


Bust of Constantine found in York, northern England, the city where he was proclaimed Emperor in 306.

The second act had even more far-reaching consequences. He convened a gathering of christian bishops in the city of Nicaea in present-day Turkey in the year 325. The Council of Nicaea was tasked with finding a consensus view of christianity that would enable it to be adopted as the religion of the Roman Empire.

As one of the defining characteristics of christianity almost from the time of Jesus had been the argumentativeness of its followers, this promised to be as easy as herding cats. One area in which the christians had been united, however, was in their resistance to the Roman Empire with its propensity to deify its emperors. Christians were monotheistic. A Roman emperor could not be a god.

The council was a success in that it reached agreement. As with any successful conference, the delegates agreed a final wording to the conclusion of their discussions. It is still with us today and is known as the Nicene Creed.

Here is an English translation of the original version from that council:

“We believe in one God, the Father Almighty, Maker of all things visible and invisible.

“And in one Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, begotten of the Father the only-begotten; that is, of the essence of the Father, God of God, Light of Light, very God of very God, begotten, not made, being of one substance with the Father; by whom all things were made both in heaven and on earth; who for us men, and for our salvation, came down and was incarnate and was made man; he suffered, and the third day he rose again, ascended into heaven; from thence he shall come to judge the quick and the dead.

“And in the Holy Ghost.

“But those who say: ‘There was a time when he was not;’ and ‘He was not before he was made;’ and ‘He was made out of nothing,’ or ‘He is of another substance’ or ‘essence,’ or ‘The Son of God is created,’ or ‘changeable,’ or ‘alterable’—they are condemned by the holy catholic and apostolic Church.”

To reach a final wording involved massive compromises. For the moment, I will mention two of them.

The first compromise was to do with the divinity of the emperor. In order for christianity to be acceptable in the Roman empire the bishops had to decree that Jesus was divine. Before that time, for many christians Jesus was a human being like the rest of us. (Being christians and therefore disputatious, there was the complication of the virgin birth. But that was open to many interpretations, all of which were explored, vociferously.)

So the bishops made Jesus into an emperor. In the following years churches had images of all-powerful christ on his throne. They called him Christ pantokrator (‘pantokrator’ means ‘omnipotent’ in Greek).


This image of Jesus enthroned is from the church of Santa Pudendenzia in Rome, year 410.

But for me the tragedy is in the final paragraph of the original Nicene Creed (which has been cut out of the modern versions). People who disagreed with the wording as pronounced by those bishops were condemned. They became heretics.

Apart from the contradiction of the cruelty that was perpetrated in the name of a religion which exhorted people to love one another, this undermines something fundamental that was fresh and new and which arrived with christianity. It seems to me that Jesus introduced a sense of morality, a sense of right and wrong – and the individual human responsibility to look for that in oneself and act accordingly. Of course it led to arguments, centuries of them. This moral sense was something so new that it was very difficult for our species to assimilate.

But the Roman Empire did not handle ambiguity well. It wanted an official depiction of reality, an official storyline. And so, with the Council of Nicaea, two incompatible words were joined ever afterwards: christian orthodoxy.

The Orthodox, Apostolic Roman Catholic church, with the backing of the empire, gradually became the dominant version of christianity over the following centuries. It only expressed a segment of the spectrum of early christianity, albeit a magnificent one.

Followers of non-orthodox versions of christianity had to be careful. Some followers of the church at Alexandria in Egypt hid their treasured, non-orthodox texts in some pots which they buried in the sand, probably around the year 370. The pots were uncovered at Nag Hammadi in 1945.

Apocalypse of Peter

Part of the Apocalypse of Peter, one of the apocryphal texts from the Nag Hammadi Library.

Was Constantine bowing to the inevitable when he adopted christianity as the religion of the empire? It was certainly on an upward trajectory. What if he had not? Would it still be here today? Would the empire have come to an end sooner if he hadn’t adopted christianity? I really don’t know.


Bridging the gap, 540-760. Generations 428-439

Who carried the baton of learning between the end of the Academy in Athens (closed by the remorseless pressure of the Emperor Justinian around 530) and the founding of the House of Wisdom in Baghdad after 760? What happened to all the books, the scrolls, the papyri?

This is a large gap, of over 200 years. So far as I have been able to establish, at least in part it was the scholars of the church of the East in the Sasanian Empire. Known by Constantinople as the Nestorian church, it was the largest christian church in terms of geographical extent until the journeys by the Spanish and Portuguese explorers in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. It sent missions to India and China. Six hundred years later, Genghis Khan’s wife was a follower of the church of the East. It had schools in Nisibis (in present-day Turkey) and Gundeshapur, also spelt Gondi-Sapor, in present-day Iran. Almost nothing is written or known about them. What follows is the story as I have been able to piece it together.

The Roman emperor Justinian was a driven man. As well as recovering the provinces in north Africa from the Vandals and devastating large tracts of Italy, one of his first acts was to set up a commission to codify Roman law. This law was then used as a cudgel. The neoplatonic academy in Athens was notified first that divination was not permitted (presumably meaning Astrology and the study of the heavens). More decisively, in 529, a new law required that only those of the orthodox faith were permitted to teach or receive a stipend. Anyone who donated to or supported the academy was henceforth deemed to be breaking the law.

mosaic of Justinian I (Ravenna)

mosaic of Justinian I (Ravenna)

This is from a mosaic at the church of San Vitale in Ravenna, Italy, after his military campaign there.

This law was aimed at everyone who did not subscribe to the official Roman version of christianity: the orthodox church. There were many non-orthodox versions of christianity, as well as the church of the East. The new law applied to them as well as the Jews, Mithraists, and all  the rest of the panoply of belief systems that prevailed at the time. Government in the empire was devolved to local councils, who were responsible for implementing the law. Orthodox bishops had influence upon local government: they were exempt from taxes and were prosperous. The academy of Athens, that traced its inheritance (with some gaps) back to the time of Plato and Socrates, had no chance.

The scholars packed up and took their scrolls and papyri to the Sasanian Empire where the atmosphere was more open-minded and accepting of non-christian scholars, particularly the city of Nisibis. Nisibis housed a theological college of the church of the East, which had been re-founded in 489 after a previous Roman emperor had closed the school of Edessa just over the border in the Roman empire, on the grounds that it was espousing the wrong version of christianity. The languages were Greek and Syriac. It also housed a large jewish community. The scholars and teachers translated the classical Greek texts into Syriac, and looked to reconcile the works of Aristotle in particular with the old and new testaments of the bible. Their approach was literal and grammatical, in contrast to the allegorical approach of their rivals in Alexandria. This would suggest that, despite the destruction of the library of Alexandria, the tradition of scholarship continued there too. (The leader of the Athens school at the time of its closure, a man called Damascius, is said to have ended up in Alexandria.) However, the church in Alexandria adhered to another non-orthodox view of christianity, and so suffered at the hands of Constantinople.

The exiles from Athens were also invited to Gundeshapur, of which there is hardly a trace left. It was about four hundred miles east of the Sasanian capital Ctesiphon, near the ancient city of Susa. The tradition tells that whereas theological studies were centred in Nisibis, Gundeshapur was the location for secular studies. There was a teaching hospital, ‘bimaristan’ in Persian. Astronomy was studied. At Gundeshapur the translations were from Greek and Syriac into Pahlavi, the Persian language. As India is not too far away (comparatively speaking) and there were cultural links, I would expect that Indian mathematicians also visited. This was the high point of the Gupta Empire in India, and its mathematicians were renowned.

Some of the classical texts were taken to Constantinople, where they were safeguarded by civil servants. However, I can find no evidence that they were studied and commented on. The only use for them in subsequent centuries that I have come across was as a diplomatic gift. A copy of Ptolemy’s Almagest was presented to the court of the caliph in Baghdad at the end of the eighth century, and in the fifteenth Plato’s Timaeus, among other texts, made its way to Florence.

The evidence suggests that it was the Syriac-speaking scholars of the church of the East who transcribed and translated the texts. They studied them, valued them and pondered their meaning. And that is why, when the House of Wisdom was founded in Baghdad in the eighth century, the first translations of the classical Greek texts were from Syriac into Arabic. The head of the church of the East at the time, the katholikos Timothy, was a learned and influential figure in Baghdad.


This is a bit of a sketchy story. An important link in the chain of human learning has hardly been investigated, so far as I can tell.


Entering late antiquity, 540-600. Generations 428-430

Many people alive in this time felt that something was coming to an end. A monk called Gregory, who went on to become pope in 590, wrote that the world ‘was growing old and hoary, hastening to its approaching death’.

He had good reason to say so. These were troubled times.

The latest set of troubles began in the year 536. From Ireland across to China, cold weather and crop failures were reported. It was a year without a summer. The historian Procopius, based in Constantinople, wrote: “during this year a most dread portent took place. For the sun gave forth its light without brightness… and it seemed exceedingly like the sun in eclipse, for the beams it shed were not clear”.

Evidence from ice cores says that it was caused by a volcano – and more to were to follow in the next five years.

Another source of trouble was the continuing migrations. The changing climate wasn’t a cause of the migrations, but may have exacerbated them. The edges of the Roman Empire – the rivers Danube and Rhine in central Europe, for example, had long been a fragile membrane, with the Empire in the settled agricultural lands surrounding the Mediterranean, and the more mobile alliances of peoples living on the less cultivatable land beyond. The peoples living just beyond the border were traditionally paid to stay put, but that system had already broken down. A couple of centuries previously the groups living beyond the frontier had found out how to work around the Roman policy of divide and rule. They formed alliances, too large for the Roman army to easily defeat, and then either invaded or negotiated a settlement of land within the Empire itself.

And the migrants kept on coming. Around 540 it was the Avars, originating from the Eurasian steppe. They moved into the Hungarian plain in particular, and in so doing displaced the Lombards who were the current occupants. The Lombards then moved south and invaded northern Italy. This region was already suffering from Justinian’s brutal recovery of it from the previous wave of invasions (by the ostrogoths), and so had nothing left to resist the next set of incomers. The Lombards moved in and used it as a base for further expansion. Part of northern Italy is still known as Lombardy.

And it got worse. Like the Mongols seven hundred years later, the Avars brought the bubonic plague. It reached Europe and the Mediterranean in 541, and was devastating. The creaking bureaucracies of the Roman Empire based in Constantinople and the Sasanian Empire based in Ctesiphon had to cope with a reduction in tax revenues resulting from the loss of up to a third of the populations. The revenues that were used to pay the armies were reduced, and consequently so were troop numbers.

The economic basis of the Roman and Persian empires was agricultural surplus. The estates produced more food than the inhabitants could eat, and paid taxes to the central administration in Constantinople or Ctesiphon. The richest agricultural region was in the middle east, between the two empires. So it made sense to concentrate what was left of the armies there. This was a period of continual war between Constantinople and Ctesiphon, to gain control of the near east from Anatolia to Mesopotamia. Sometimes the Persians took control, at others the Romans. The conflict must have been a drain on resources and difficult to sustain with everything else that was going on.

One of the other things that was going on was endless argument among christians. Christianity had been the official religion of the Roman Empire since 313, but that was a mixed blessing to most christians, as there were many versions of their faith. Empires, it would seem, are not good with ambiguity. So the continual arguments about the nature of Jesus (for example, was he a human like the rest of us, or divine and co-eternal with God, or both?) were not welcome. Anyone who strayed from the official view of the Roman church (that Jesus incarnated in a physical body but was also divine) was deemed a heretic.

Pope Gregory adhered to a strand of christianity that had more successfully integrated into the Roman church. The happiest period of his life, he said, was when he could shut all the troubles out and get on with being a monk. He followed in the footsteps of Benedict of Nursia, who died around 545. Benedict had pursued the ascetic strand of christianity and formalised it into a rule, which he applied in his new monastery at Monte Cassino in the south of Italy. His rule book had 73 chapters, covering the varieties of monasticism, the authority of the abbot, how to manage the day-to-day life of the monastery, even down to what the monks should wear in bed. Each monastery was a self-contained unit, answerable to its abbot.

Gregory turned his own family estate into a monastery – which for me is a clue as to what was going on. This was a continuation of the Roman economic model, of an estate providing an agricultural surplus. The estate was no longer the property of one aristocratic family, but was a monastery ruled by an abbot (or abbess). When times grew hard in the territories around Rome as the Lombards ventured further south, Gregory could call on the surplus from the monasteries to feed the displaced people. His success in doing so led to the foundation of the Papal States, a swathe across central Italy ruled directly by the papacy for the next 1400 years.

Gregory is also the source of one of the best-remembered bad puns from late antiquity. The story goes that he saw some blond slaves in the slave market in Rome. On enquiring where they were from, he was told they were Angles. ‘Not Angles but angels’, he is said to have replied. Gregory sent one of his monks, by the name of Augustine, to the land of the Angles to convert the pagans. Augustine set up his first monastery in Canterbury. Perhaps that set the stamp for christianity in England – the monastic system. And maybe that is why, a millennium later, Henry VIII targeted the monasteries. They followed the Roman model, owned large tracts of rich agricultural land across the country and did not answer to the king.


Emperor Justinian also had the basilica of Hagia Sofia built in this period, after its predecessor was burned down in riots. Later it was converted to a mosque, but the original structure is still there.


The Qur’an, a personal view. Generations 431-432, 600-632

For an outsider like me, it is very easy to bounce off the Qur’an. It took a few readings before I could start to see the brilliance in it.

It is not a historical document. It has very little external contemporary reference. And when there is external reference, it is often hard to say for sure what is being talked about. For example, there are a few mentions of a Holy Mosque, but no description of where it is. There are frequent mentions of believers and unbelievers, but it offers no guidance on how to distinguish them. There are lots of references to characters from the bible, both the old and new testaments.

For me, the best way in to getting a sense of it was to imagine it as the experience of one man, Muhammad. Perhaps the nearest equivalent would be a stream-of-consciousness recitation. Once I started to get into it, I could see that the intensity must have been almost unbearable. Of course he had to recite, to talk it out. No wonder he repeated himself. He had to find the words to clothe what he was experiencing. Because it kept on coming.

For me now, the Qur’an gives expression to what it was like to be the first Believer. Muhammad experienced something so clearly. He could see that the thing he was experiencing was not being felt in this way by anyone else he knew. He knew it was not meant for him alone. At times it comes out like a cry: ‘Do you not see? Will you now begin to understand?’

The nearest equivalent he could find was in the bible, in the experiences of the old testament prophets, particularly Abraham, Noah and Moses. He also refers to Jesus, Mary and Zachariah from the new testament. But again, he does not merely repeat their stories. He finds the common themes from the place he himself is in. That common experience becomes incorporated into the intense outpouring that we can now read in the suras of the Qur’an.

One of the common features is that each of the people he mentions was confronted by the reality of their God. They were forced into a situation where they had to take a position. Each one chose to act against the conventional wisdom of their time and had to deal with the consequences of that. By reciting from his own experience and referring to his predecessors in this way, Muhammad legitimises the human’s self-responsibility – a responsibility which overrides traditional allegiances to one’s family or wider group. It is up to each human to decide what is important to them – and accept the consequences of their decision.

This, in my view, is a major stepping-stone in the human story.


One of the oldest manuscripts of the Qur’an, dated to the 7th or 8th century.

There are a few pieces of writing that are intimately tied up with the story of a language. In Spanish, it would be Tirant Lo Blanch by Joanot Martorell and Don Quixote by Manuel Cervantes. In Italian two candidates also spring to mind: Dante’s Divine Comedy and The Betrothed by Alessandro Manzoni. In English it would be Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales and the entire canon of Shakespeare’s plays. But none of these come close to the impact of the Qur’an on the arabic language.

Prior to the time of the Qur’an there were a few inscriptions in arabic, but nothing else. Within a century it was the official language of an empire and within two centuries it was the international language of learning, to be superseded by scholar’s latin around the year 1200.


Another early qur’anic manuscript, found in a mosque in Sanaa in Yemen in 1972.


Believers and emigrants. 620-680, generations 432-434

This period was world-changing. It saw the appearance of a new idea, a new frequency in human affairs. The effects can be traced through to the leap in learning that happened in Baghdad a century later, to the Medieval enlightenment in Europe a couple of centuries after that, to the Renaissance in Italy, to the Enlightenment, to the industrial revolution and so to today.

And it started with one man – Muhammad.

However, in order to get a sense of what was going on at the time, we need to remove several layers of padding and interpretation. Most of what was written about Muhammad was put to pen over a century later. My experience tells me that old people’s memories are sometimes unreliable, and even more so when we are dealing with memories of memories from a century or more before.

There are two documents from the arabic-speaking world that can be dated to the period in question: the charter of Medina and the Qur’an. They seem a sensible place to start.

The Qur’an is not a historical document. It is a series of revelations, of perceptions, insights about the human situation and its relationship with God. It has very little reference to external events.


Pages from the Qur’an, written during or shortly after Muhammad’s lifetime, recently discovered in Birmingham University. Image taken at Birmingham Museum, UK

The charter of Medina is the treaty document between the the emigrants (referred to as the Quraysh) and the inhabitants of the oasis of Yathrib, henceforth known as Medina. The original has been lost but there are several copies, all similar enough to suggest that they come from one source document.

The first paragraph reads:

“This is a document from Muhammad, the Prophet, governing the relation between the Believers from among the Qurayshites and Yathribites  and those who followed them and joined them and struggled with them. They form one and the same community as against the rest of men.”

Taking these two documents as our main reference brings up some difficult issues. I’ll start with what is for me the most difficult.

There is no mention of Mecca in the charter of Medina. In fact, there is no mention of where the Quraysh emigrated from. In the Qur’an there is one mention of the ‘hollow’ or valley of Mecca, as follows:

“It is He who restrained their hands from you, and your hands from them, in the hollow of Mecca, after that He made you victors over them. God sees the things you do.” (sura 48)

This would suggest that there was a valley of Mecca in which a conflict took place which was won by Muhammad, and whose aftermath was not as violent as it could have been.

Further, there is no mention of Mecca in any other contemporary, non-arabic document. In fact, there is as much evidence that Muhammad lived in Mecca as there is that St Peter lived in Rome six centuries previously. This does not invalidate or diminish the immensity of Muhammad’s achievement. It suggests to me that maybe some later commentators had an interest in locating Muhammad’s origins in the heartlands of the arabian desert, far away from the contaminating influences of Constantinople and Ctesiphon to the north. Almost as if they wanted to emphasise how what Muhammad brought was entirely new.

Which raises a question: where did the Quraysh emigrate from? The Qur’an mentions olives (which only grew in the Mediterranean). It mentions herding of animals and growing of crops, activities more associated with the fertile regions to the north or south of the arabian desert.

Maybe in the end it doesn’t matter where they emigrated from.

A second difficulty is about the term ‘believers’. The word ‘believer’ occurs more than ‘muslim’ in both the charter of Medina and the Qur’an. ‘Believers’ is a much broader term than muslims, encompassing those who believe in God (Allah in arabic) and who adhere to the earlier revelations from God – the old and new Testaments – or the latest one, the Qur’an. The charter of Medina makes it clear that the jews and muslims are distinct, with different religious practices. But they are all part of the community of Believers, the ummah.

This perception is confirmed by archaeological evidence. Several christian churches built in the period in question have been excavated. One in Jerusalem had an altar facing east and a prayer niche, a mihrab, facing south. So the different varieties of believers clearly saw no problem in performing their separate religious practices in the same space. When Damascus was taken over by the arab army, the church of St John was divided into two, so that the muslims could pray in one section and the christians in the other.

Nowadays, we are trained to think in categories: muslim, jew, hindu, buddhist, humanist, and so on. But the seventh century was a time when every valley, each village, each tribe had its own practices. Zorastrianism blended into hinduism and buddhism in the east, towards India. There were jewish christians and christian jews. Diversity was the norm. What Muhammad did with the charter of Medina was reach for an overarching criterion, the ummah that was higher than tribal obligation or religious practice and included all believers under its cover. The Qur’an also contains this view. Diversity of expression is not a problem so long as the core principles are agreed to.

This may help to explain another archaeological mystery. The arab conquests are almost invisible in the archaeological record. Usually when there is an invasion there is a layer of burning. Caesarea was burnt and Alexandria didn’t fare too well, but otherwise there is almost nothing. And that would make sense if the inhabitants of the conquered territories were believers, whose belief systems were regarded as legitimate by the invaders. It would have been in their interest to welcome the invaders. The non-orthodox varieties of christianity, such as the Copts in Egypt, were oppressed by Constantinople. The arrival of the arabs, fellow believers, may have been a welcome relief. It also explains why there was no particular push for conversion by the invaders. Why should they? All were believers.

So when did it change? When did islam separate out? When did the community of believers split into distinct religions? The evidence says this was the achievement of the ummayad caliph abd-al Malik.  Abd-al Malik preferred the word ‘muslim’ to ‘believer’. Muhammad’s name was not written down (in anything that has been recovered from the time) from when he died in 632 or thereabouts until abd-al Malik had it put on the coinage fifty years later. When the Dome of the Rock was built in Jerusalem in 691, phrases from the Qur’an were selected to emphasise the distinctness of islam from christianity – that muslims do not accept the idea of the trinity, for example.

And so humanity had another established religion.