over time and who did not hesitate to forge bonds of amity across the religious frontier if circumstances warranted it. A notable case in point was Alfonso IX of León (1188–1230), who allied himself with the Berber Almohads in 1196 against Christian Castile as a means to further his own territorial ambitions in the contested Tierra de Campos region, and was excommunicated by Pope Celestine III as a consequence. Medieval Iberia was always a region of multiple frontiers, never of one.
Of all the frontiers—physical or psychological—that existed in the Peninsula, religious boundaries were without a doubt among the most actively policed and, as a consequence, were probably the most difficult to cross. These religious boundaries were manifold and complex, but in general they were shaped by an overriding fear of excessive social interaction or assimilation among the three faiths that coexisted within the region. Very broadly, it is fair to say that two chief anxieties weighed heavily on the minds of the religious and secular authorities of the Christian, Jewish, and Muslim communities that dwelled on either side of the frontier between al-Andalus and the Christian-ruled realms of the North. One was their steely determination to prevent their coreligionists from renouncing their faith and embracing another; the second was their concern to prevent—or in some cases regulate—sexual relations between members of different religious faiths. This book might therefore be said to be concerned with the frontier phenomenon in at least two distinct ways. In a literal sense, it is interested in the processes by which women—either legitimate wives or slave concubines—physically moved from Christian- to Muslimdominated areas of control, or vice versa, crossing the political frontier, such as it was. Equally, however, this work is concerned with those cultural, legal, or mental boundaries that the Abrahamic faiths of Iberia sought to erect in order to protect themselves from excessive social interaction or assimilation with the others and which were to loom large in the political and cultural discourse of both the Muslim- and Christian-dominated regions of the Peninsula. It is to those boundaries and to their wider function that we will now turn.
Chapter 1
Sex as Power
The circumstances surrounding the Islamic conquest of the Visigothic kingdom of Iberia between 711 and c.720 remain deeply obscure, for Muslim and Christian accounts of the invasion differ greatly in terms of chronology, detail, and emphasis. The two earliest Muslim accounts of the invasion—composed by the Maliki religious and legal scholars (‘ulamā) Ibn Ḥabīb (d. 853) and Ibn ‘Abd al-Ḥakam (d. 871) fully 150 years after the events took place—are a notable case in point. In those texts, it has been argued, the authors’ primary concern appears to have been to demonstrate that the lands of the Peninsula had been conquered by force rather than by submission and, as a result, were to be regarded as the absolute property of the Muslim invaders.1 In marked contrast, the chronicler Ibn al-Qūṭīya (d. 977), who claimed to be of Visigothic royal descent, was equally insistent that the Islamic takeover of the Peninsula had been more the fruit of a series of pacts with the Hispano-Gothic population than the consequence of a full-blown military conquest.2 Be that as it may, there is broad consensus between the various accounts, Muslim and Christian alike, that the collapse of the Visigothic state owed as much to the invaders’ skill in exploiting existing political divisions within the Peninsula as to the speed and ruthlessness with which they were able to press home their military advantage. The death of King Roderic (710–11/12) in battle and that of much of his aristocratic entourage, together with the fall of the capital Toledo soon afterward, appears to have left what remained of the Visigothic ruling élite in a state of collective paralysis, unable to coordinate further resistance.3 In the ensuing power vacuum, some notables are said to have fled to the remote mountainous regions of the North;4 others abandoned the Peninsula altogether and sought refuge across the Pyrenees;5 yet others were carried off into captivity, or were even executed outright.6
Other Visigothic notables sought to preserve their wealth, status, and power by coming to terms with the invaders. One such was Theodemir (d. 744), lord of Orihuela, Alicante, and five other towns in the southeast of the Peninsula, who on 5 April 713 agreed on a treaty with the military commander ‘Abd al-Azīz b. Mūsā, the text of which has thankfully survived.7 Theodemir and his supporters pledged loyalty to the Muslim authorities and undertook not to succor any fugitives or enemies of the Muslim state. Furthermore, they agreed that they and the towns under Theodemir’s authority would pay an annual poll tax, in return for which they were guaranteed their safety and freedom of worship. In doing so, they and the other Christian and Jewish communities who made similar undertakings acquired the status of dhimmī (protected peoples) under Muslim rule. The treaty may be a chance survival, but it serves to reinforce the impression given by other sources that the Islamic conquest of the Peninsula was in part a gradual and negotiated takeover, involving the active collaboration of significant elements of the Hispano-Gothic aristocracy, rather than the smash-and-grab raid presented by some of the Arabic narrative accounts.8
Intermarriage with the indigenous Christian population of Iberia constituted another important mechanism by which the Muslim invaders consolidated their authority over the Peninsula. Indeed, “sexual mixing” between Muslim men and Christian women—be it through marriage or the taking of slave concubines—may be said to have represented a vital element in driving the process of social and cultural change in postconquest Iberia. The purpose of this chapter is to investigate the social, cultural, and political significance of such interfaith sexual liaisons—be they consensual or forced—and the part they played within the construction of Islamic authority prior to the millennium.
Interfaith Marriage: Purposes and Consequences
According to the tenets of classical Islamic law, intermarriage between a Muslim man and a Christian or Jewish woman was entirely permissible, as long as any children born to the couple were also brought up as Muslims: “Lawful to you are the believing women and the free women from among those who were given the Scriptures before you, provided that you give them their dowries and live in honor with them, neither committing fornication nor taking them as mistresses.”9 As Jessica Coope has noted, “underlying this rule is the assumption that the husband, as head of the family, would be likely to convert his wife, whereas the wife, as the subordinate partner, would be unable to convert her husband to her religion.”10 By stark contrast, marriage or indeed any sexual relations between a Muslim woman and a Christian or Jewish man were strictly outlawed.11 Thus, a ninth-century legal pronouncement from Córdoba ordered that any Christian found guilty of having sexual intercourse with a Muslim woman should receive corporal punishment and imprisonment; other legal authorities prescribed the death penalty for such transgressors.12
For its part, the Christian Church, like Judaism before it, had traditionally expressed hostility to those who engaged in sexual intercourse with people of other faiths. St. Paul had been forthright on the matter: “Do not unite yourselves with unbelievers; they are no fit mates for you. What has righteousness to do with wickedness? Can light consort with darkness?” (2 Corinthians 6:14). These prohibitions had been amplified in numerous pieces of conciliar and secular legislation promulgated during the period of the Later Roman Empire and beyond.13 In Iberia, for example, the synod of Elvira, held c. 300–309, along with a series of church councils celebrated in Toledo under the authority of the Visigothic monarchy during the sixth and seventh centuries, had outlawed intermarriage between Jewish men and Christian women.14 In the aftermath of the Muslim invasion and conquest of the Peninsula, however, such concerns in some quarters on the Christian side appear to have been temporarily laid to one side.
Our sources, Christian and Muslim alike, give the impression that the lead in this matter was taken by ‘Abd al-Azīz b. Mūsā, who succeeded to the governorship of al-Andalus in 714 once his father Mūsā b. Nuṣayr—the Arab governor of Ifrīqīya (North Africa) and architect of the invasion of the Peninsula—had been recalled to Damascus.15 It is widely
