That evening the king interviewed the leader of the delegation. He explained that they had dressed the first day as they did among their families, the second as they did when they attended a prince’s court and the third as they did when they faced their enemies. The king then said that he was prepared to be magnanimous since he knew how needy the leader of the Muslims was and how few companions he had; if that had not been the case he would have sent someone against them to destroy them. The Muslim envoy retorted with indignation that his master’s army was so large that while its leaders were in China the rearguard was ‘in the places where the olive trees grow’, and as for being needy, he had left a whole world behind him under his control. He then said that Qutayba had sworn an oath that he would not give up until ‘he treads your lands, seals your kings [that is, puts a seal on their necks to show that they had paid the humiliating poll tax] and is given tribute’. The king of China then said that he could see a way out of this: he sent some golden dishes of soil, four young noblemen and some gifts. Qutayba was able to stand on the soil, put seals on the necks of the young men and accept the gifts as tax. Honour was satisfied all round and, once again, the Muslim leaders can be seen to be accepted as peers by old-established rulers.
The year 715 was to prove to be Qutayba’s last of campaigning. His career of conquest was brought to an end, not by Chinese military power but by internal Muslim politics. Qutayba’s conquests had been so successful because of his personal drive and because he enjoyed the unstinting support of the Umayyad authorities, Hajjāj, the governor of Iraq and all the east in his new capital at Wasit, and ultimately the caliph, al-Walīd b. Abd al-Malik. Now both these supports disappeared, Hajjāj died in the summer of 714, al-Walīd in early spring 715. The new caliph, Sulaymān, was known to be close to the Muhallabi family, whom Qutayba had ousted from Khurasan. Qutayba was wary of the new monarch, fearing that he would lose his position or worse. At first all seemed to be going well and the new caliph sent an encouraging letter to Qutayba, urging him to carry on the good work of conquest, but Qutayba remained anxious and took the precaution of moving his family from Merv to Samarqand, where it would be very difficult for his enemies to reach them. He posted a guard on the Oxus river crossing with orders not to let anyone cross from the west if they did not have a pass.
34
Interestingly, the man he relied on for this important security role was not an Arab at all, but a
mawlā
of his from Khwārazm, a new convert to Islam. It was a measure of the bitterness caused by inter-Arab feuds that he felt more secure in recently conquered Samarqand, surrounded by resentful Soghdians, than he did in the old provincial capital, where Muslim rule had been securely established for sixty-five years.
Qutayba seems to have decided that he would certainly lose his job under the new administration and he decided to reject Sulaymān’s authority, trusting in the loyalty of his men to give him military support. He may have imagined leading the battle-hardened army of Khurasan west to Iraq and eventually to Syria, installing a compliant caliph of his own choosing, much as Abū Muslim and the supporters of the Abbasids were to do thirty-five years later.
He made a speech to his troops
35
in which he laid out his achievements as he saw them and demanded their support. He pointed out how he had brought them from Iraq, had distributed booty among them and paid their salaries in full and without delay. They only had to compare him with previous governors to see how superior he was. Today they lived in safety and prosperity. God had given them opportunities for conquest and the roads were so safe that a woman could travel in a camel litter from Merv to Balkh without fear of molestation.
36
His speech was greeted with stony silence. Perhaps he had not prepared the ground or consulted enough. Everyone knew he had been a great commander but there was a strong groundswell of opinion against opening the doors of civil strife. Qutayba may have been a great leader of the Muslims against the non-Muslims, but he could not count on a strong tribal following to push his cause against fellow Muslims. He had taken considerable pains to cultivate the support of the non-Arab Muslim converts in Khurasan and incorporate them in his army, but they too were reluctant to get involved in an Arab civil war. Their leader, Hayyān al-Nabatī, told his followers that ‘those Arabs are not fighting in the cause of Islam, so let them kill one another’.
37
There was now no going back. Qutayba had staked everything on a public appeal to the loyalty of his troops and they had not responded. He now seems to have lost his cool completely and began abusing the Arab tribesmen with all the scorn of traditional Arab rhetoric. He called them the refuse of Kūfa and Basra; he had collected them from the desert, ‘the places where wormwood, southernwood and wild senna grow’, where they were riding cows and donkeys. They were Iraqis and had allowed the Syrian army to lie in their courtyards and under the roofs of their houses. Each major tribe was singled out: Bakr were a people of deceit, lying and, worst of all, meanness, Abd al-Qays were farters who had taken up the pollination of palm trees rather than the reins of horses, Azd had taken ship’s ropes in the place of the reins of stallions. The implication was clear; they were farmers and fishermen, not proud Arab warriors. Within a few minutes he had succeeded in alienating anyone who might have been persuaded to support him. When he retired to his house, he explained to his household what he had done, ‘When I spoke and not a single man responded, I became angry and did not know what I was saying,’ and he went on to abuse the tribes again: Bakr were like slave girls who never rejected any sexual advances, Tamīm were like mangy camels, Abd al-Qays were the backside of a wild ass and Azd were wild asses, ‘the worst God created’.
His position was now hopeless. The opposition coalesced around Wakī al-Tamīmī, the tough old Bedouin. The Arab sources give a vivid picture of this man in terms that go beyond the usual forms of abuse. Among other things, he was accused by his enemies of being a drunkard who sat around boozing with his friends until he shat in his own underclothes.
38
His supporters claimed that he could take charge of the business, ‘enduring its heat, shedding his blood’, for he was ‘a brave man who neither cares what he mounts or what the consequences will be’.
39
He was prepared to risk launching an attack on Qutayba. He made an agreement with the leader of the non-Arabs, Hayyān al-Nabatī, that they would divide up the tax revenues of Khurasan between them. Qutayba was now deserted by all but his immediate family. He called for the turban his mother had sent him, which he always wore in time of difficulty, and a well-trained horse he considered lucky in war. When the horse came, it was restless and he could not mount it. The omen convinced him that the game was over and he abandoned himself to despair, lying down on his bed, saying, ‘Let it be for this is God’s will.’
40
The mayhem continued. Qutayba sent his brother Sālih, the one who had been friends with the king of Shūmān, to try to negotiate with the rebels, but they shot arrows at him and wounded him in the head. He was carried to Qutayba’s prayer room and Qutayba came and sat with him for a while before returning to his couch (
sarīr
). His brother Abd al-Rahmān, who had so often led the Muslim troops in the most difficult situations, was set upon by the market people (
ahl al-sq
) and the rabble (
ghawghā
) and stoned to death. As the rebels closed in on Qutayba himself they set fire to the stables where he kept his camels and riding animals. Soon the ropes of the great tent were cut and the rebels rushed in and Qutayba was killed. As so often there were disputes about who actually killed him and about who had the honour of taking his head to Wakī. Wakī ordered the killing of all the members of his immediate family and that the bodies be crucified.
The fury and vindictiveness of the attack on the man who had led the Muslim armies in Transoxania so successfully astonished contemporaries. Persians in the Muslim army were amazed that the Arabs could have treated a man who had achieved so much so badly; ‘if he had been one of us, and died among us,’ one of them said, ‘we would have put him in a coffin [
tābūt
] and taken him with us on our military expeditions. No one ever achieved as much in Khurasan as Qutayba did.’
41
Needless to say, numerous poems were written about the subject, many glorifying the deeds of the tribesmen who killed him. But others lamented the death of a great warrior for Islam, such as the poet
42
who addressed his words to the new caliph in Damascus, capturing something of the sense of excitement and adventure in the unknown that many of Qutayba’s followers must have felt:
Sulaymān, many are the soldiers we rounded up for you
By our spears on our galloping horses.
Many are the strongholds that we ravaged
And many are the plains and rocky mountains
And towns which no one had raided before
Which we raided, driving our horses month after month
So that they got used to endless raids and were calm
In the face of a charging enemy
Even if the fire was lit and they were urged towards it
They charged towards the din and the blaze.
With them we have ravaged all the cities of the infidels
Until they passed beyond the place where the dawn breaks.
If Fate had allowed, they would have carried us
Beyond Alexander’s wall of rock and molten brass.
THE TURKISH COUNTER-STROKE, 715-37
The death of Qutayba marked the end of an era in the Muslim conquests of Central Asia. Up to this point, the Arab forces, with an increasing number of local allies, had made general progress. True, there had been setbacks, but the overall pattern had been one of expanding Muslim power and influence. All this was now to change. Part of the reason for this was political events in the Muslim world. After the death of al-Walīd I in 715 three caliphs, Sulaymān (715-17), Umar II (717-20) and Yazīd II (720-24), followed each other in quick succession. Each caliph had different advisers with different ideas about policy on the north-eastern frontier. Constant changes of governor meant that tribal rivalries among the Arabs and resentments between Arab and non-Arab Muslims became much more open and frequently violent. It was not until the accession of Hishām (724-43) that Muslim policy again enjoyed a period of stability and consistency.
But there were other pressures from much further east. We know from Chinese sources that the princes of Soghdia were sending regular embassies to the Chinese court, trying to persuade the Chinese to intervene to help them against the Muslims. In 718, for example, Tughshāda, king of Bukhara, Ghūrak of Samarqand, and Narayāna, king of Kumādh, all presented petitions asking for help against the Arabs, even though both Bukhara and Samarqand had been ‘conquered’ by the Arabs and their kings had entered into treaty arrangements with the Muslim authorities. In the event, the Chinese were not prepared to intervene directly in this area so remote from the centres of their power, but they gave some encouragement to the Türgesh Turks to invade Soghdia in support of the local princes.
The Arab sources talk of two Turkish leaders.
43
The chief is the Khagan and the Khagan referred to by the Arabic historians of this period was the Turkish chief known to the Chinese sources as Su-Lu. He sometimes appears in Transoxania as overall leader of the Turks. He had a subordinate who is called Kūrsūl in the Arabic sources and whose Turkish name was Köl-chur.
These are almost the only named Turks in the Arabic narratives of the conquest. When describing the Arab armies, and the heroic (and unheroic) deeds they performed, the protagonists are often named: preserving the identity of the individuals was a key concern of the authors. The Turks, by contrast, are very much ‘the other’, a mass of warriors without any apparent religion or morals or any motivation apart from total hostility to the Muslims and an insatiable desire for booty. The leaders, the Khagan and Kūrsūl, join the ranks of the worthy opponents of the Muslims, rather like the Byzantine emperor Heraclius and Rustam, the Sasanian general defeated at Qādisiya. They are brave and honourable, in their way, but they do not have the self-doubt and that deep inner knowledge that the Muslims are going to prevail because God is on their side which are described in the cases of the Byzantine and Sasanian generals.
The warfare of the period between the death of Qutayba in 715 and the death of Su-Lu and the collapse of the Türgesh in 739 is confusing and we will not try to follow every encounter in detail but rather give an impression of this hard-fought and bitter conflict. The Turks and the Arabs were implacable enemies, fighting for overlordship of this potentially rich area. Caught in between were the local princes, the most prominent being Ghūrak of Samarqand, who struggled to maintain their independence and their culture. They originally hoped that the Turks and Chinese would free them from the Muslim yoke but as time went on they found that the Turks too were hard and demanding masters.
Wakī, who had been the instrument of Qutayba’s downfall, had none of his predecessor’s gifts for holding the Muslims together. The armies dispersed, and governors followed each other in quick succession. In the spring of 721 the Turkish leader Kūrsūl led his men into Soghdia. It was a good moment to strike. A new governor, Sa
c
īd, was known by his troops as Khudhayna, a word that might be translated as ‘the Flirt’: the name was not intended as a compliment. The poets were scathing about his lack of martial qualities: