The Almohad Caliphate: A Look at Al-Andalus through Arabic Documentation and Their Artistic Manifestations

Abstract

The main objective of this article is to reflect on the importance and influence of the Andalusian cultural legacy during the years of the Almohad dominance in the Islamic West. To do this, I will examine the written Arabic documentation and those material testimonies that have reached us, which will allow me to get closer to a greater knowledge of this reformist movement. In this sense, I will analyze the artistic, political and religious landscape, which will lead me to address a reality that becomes the vehicle of legitimation of this new caliphate.

1. Introduction

The Almohad movement (al-muwaḥḥid), which emerged at the beginning of the 12th century in North Africa, has been a case study for prestigious specialists for decades. The works accomplished by historians, philologists, archaeologists and art historians, among others, allow us to approach their knowledge with an interdisciplinary character, a reality that is increasingly necessary to achieve a greater understanding of this particular period of time. In this sense, the investigations carried out on the origins and evolution of this new reformist dynasty (Millet 1923; Huici Miranda 1949, pp. 339–76; Saidi 1984), the doctrine it professed (Abboud 1996, pp. 6–13; Nagel 1997, pp. 295–304; Martínez Lorca 2004, pp. 399–413) and the material testimonies that have been preserved, are fundamental, consisting of several examples to which I will be referring in this article.

The emergence of this movement, based on the practice of a new religious doctrine against the ideals that the Almoravids professed (al-murābiṭūn) and which is recorded in written documentation (Le Livre de Mohammed Ibn Toumert, Mahdi des Almohades [1903] 2010; Kitāb al-Ansāb 1928, pp. 18–49 (ed.), 25–74 (trans); Lettres d’Ibn Tūmart et de ‘Abd al-Mu’mīn 1928, pp. 1–13 (ed), 1–24 (trans.); Un recueil des lettres officielles almohades. Étude diplomatique analyse et commentaire historique 1942), led to the territorial expansion of this new empire, progressively expelling the Almoravids from the Maghreb until they conquered Marrakech in March 1147. From this moment on, the old Almoravid capital became the Almohad political-administrative centre.

As a consequence of this territorial advance, and in view of the political weakening that al-Andalus was currently going through (Viguera Molins 1992, pp. 205–11; Codera y Zaidín [1899] 2004), the Almohad armies crossed the Strait in the Summer of 1147, incorporating the Ğarb al-Andalus (West of al-Andalus) into their domains and making Seville the peninsular capital of their empire (Ibn al-Aṯīr 1898, p. 559; Al-Nuwayrī 1917, vol. II, pp. 214–15). In the same way as in Marrakech, the city of Seville underwent a profound and progressive urban transformation due to its status as a capital city, being on a par with its counterpart in North Africa (Viguera Molins 1998, pp. 15–30; Jiménez Martín 2000, pp. 43–72; Fierro Bello 2009). But it was not until the death of Amir Ibn Mardanīš (1147–1172) that the Almohads were able to incorporate the Šharq al-Andalus (Levant of al-Andalus) into their empire, thus reaching the peak of their political, religious and territorial development.

However, it was from this moment on that the influence that the Andalusian cultural legacy had during the years of Almohad domination in the Islamic West is evidenced not only in its most representative artistic manifestations, as I will comment further on, but also in the Arabic documentation. This scenario leads us to reflect on some aspects of great interest that will allow us to take a further step towards understanding this North African movement and its development, turning that inclination shown by the Almohads towards al-Andalus in the main corpus of my discourse and, therefore, to its main objective.

That is why I consider it appropriate to dwell on those material and written testimonies that support this reality, through the different personalities that succeeded each other in power, as well as their participation in the different events that took place during this period and that contribute towards corroborating this approach. I refer to the political, artistic and religious panorama, which will allow us to have a much more complete vision about this particular subject matter.

2. The Interrelation between the Maghreb and Al-Andalus: Material and Documentary Evidence

2.1. The Beginnings of a New Reformist Movement

The origin of the Almohad movement took place in Tinmāl—a spiritual center located in the Maghrebi Anti-Atlas—around the years 1125–1126 under the spiritual guidance of Muḥammad b. Tûmart (d. 1130), who was proclaimed by his supporters as the Mahdī (the one guided by God). This new doctrine that the Almohads professed arose as opposition to the Maliki tradition and to the relaxation of the Islamic orthodoxy to which the Almoravids had succumbed, thus wanting to return to the essence of Islam, the Indivisible Oneness or tawḥīd (Le Livre de Mohammed Ibn Toumert, Mahdi des Almohades [1903] 2010; Massé 1928, vol. II, pp. 105–21; Fierro Bello 2005, vol. II, pp. 895–935).

However, it is known from Arabic written sources that, as a result of his interest in training in Islamic science (‘ilm), Ibn Tūmart began his studies in Cordova, where he was found around 1106–1107, continuing his journey shortly after in the East where he spent ten years in cities such as Alexandria, Mecca or Baghdad before returning to the Maghreb (Ibn al-Aṯīr 1898, pp. 526–27; Abd al-Wāḥid al-Marrākušī 1955, pp. 137–38; Ibn ‘Iḏārī 1963, pp. 141–42; Ḥulal al-mawšiyya, Crónica árabe de las dinastías almorávide, almohade y benimerín 1952, p. 124)1. The possible presence of Mahdī in Cordova, leads to the fact that Ibn Tūmart not only knew the legal practice that prevailed at that time in the territory of Andalusia and to which he was strongly opposed, the malikism, but he also knew the referent of religious architecture in the Islamic West, the Great Mosque of Cordova.

Ibn Tūmart was succeeded by his disciple ‘Abd al-Mu’mīn (1130–1163)2, originating thereafter what is known as the Almohad caliphate. It is during the years of the government of ‘Abd al-Mu’mīn when the confrontation against the Almoravids becomes the general tonic of the moment, a period in which the Unitarians begin seizing their dominions in North Africa and establishing in Marrakech its capital in the month of March in 1147.

In this context ‘Abd al-Mu’mīn ordered the construction of the Tinmāl mosque in memory of Ibn Tūmart (Ewert 1986). Regarding its dating, it has traditionally been thought that its construction began around the years 1153–1154, that is, after the first Kutubiyya mosque (Marrakech) and according to the Moroccan historian Ibn Abī Zar’ (m. 1310–1320). However, more recent studies advance its date to the year 1148, at which time, according to Ibn al-Qaṭṭān (d. after 1252), the caliph sent a letter to the ṭalaba of Ceuta announcing the construction of a mosque in Tinmāl (Villalba Sola 2015, pp. 80–81).

The mosque of Tinmāl was made of brick and stone, appreciating in it the characteristic decoration of these initial moments of the Almohad movement, as a result of the strict Islamic orthodoxy that they professed. Among the formal elements that define its architecture I must emphasize the use of pillars, lambrequines, pointed horseshoe arches, cusped arches and muqarnas, as can be seen through the remains that are preserved in the nave parallel to the qibla wall, specifically in the central and external sections (Ewert and Jens-Peter 1984). This section in particular, denotes the importance that this space had in relation to the rest of the mosque, relevance marked in turn by the arrangement of cusped arches and lambrequines that appear delimiting the transverse nave against the use of pointed horseshoe arches that make up the perpendicular naves of the prayer hall.

But it is significant to note how the facade of the miḥrab adopts a structure very similar to that of the Great Mosque of Cordova, divided into two bodies (Figure 1a,b). The lower body opens up the access arch to the miḥrab—horseshoe, slightly pointed and overlapped by another cusped arch—all framed by a double framing with geometric decoration and arabesque. In the upper body, and looking back on the case of Cordova, a frieze of blind arches is arranged, alternating in this case cusped and semicircular arches. A model which, as Cabañero Subiza and Lasa Gracia point out (Cabañero Subiza and Carmelo 2004, pp. 41–42), also obeys the compositional system present in the access to the western alhanía of the Salón Dorado (Maŷlis al-Daḥāb) of the Aljafería (al-Ŷafariyya) of Zaragoza, historiographically finding the origin of this structure in the Puerta de los Visires (Bāb al-Wuzarā’) of the Cordovan aljama, restored by the emir Muḥammād I (852–886).

The same happens on the miḥrab facade of the Kutubiyya mosque. This work was commissioned by the caliph ‘Abd al-Mu’mīn at the palace of the emir ‘Alī b. Yūsuf (1106–1143) after the Almohad conquest of Marrakech in 1147, former Almoravid capital. However, between the years 1158 and 1163 he ordered to build a new mosque in its vicinity, hence the historiography refers to them as the first Kutubiyya—of which only some remains are still preserved—and the second Kutubiyya, respectively (Figure 2). In both Moroccan mosques the structure of the miḥrab facade also recalls the Cordovan model with that division into two bodies (Basset and Henri [1932] 2001, pp. 53–80, 183–233), the latter endowed with the formal elements and stylistic characteristics of the Almohad art that was already seen in the Tinmāl mosque.

All this seems to evidence that, during the first years of the Almohad Caliphate, there may have been a certain influence of Andalusian art, as will be seen below. In addition, it should be noted that, by then, a large part of Ğarb al-Andalus (West of al-Andalus) had already become part of the Almohad state—with the exception of the Levant kingdom of the emir Ibn Mardanīš (1147–1172), placing Seville as the Almohad capital of the Peninsula.

2.2. The Legitimation of the Almohad Caliphate: The “Memory” of Al-Andalus

At this point there are a series of written and material testimonies that allow us to uphold this approach, as well as the interest that the Almohads showed towards Andalusia, and what will constitute the axis around which this work will be articulated. This reality is reflected, for example, at the moment when the first Almohad Caliph wanted to preserve the minbar from its destruction, which is currently conserved in the al-Badi Palace in Marrakech (Figure 3).

It is known that this pulpit was made by Andalusian artists around the year 1137 by the expressed wish of the Almoravid Emir ‘Alī b. Yūsuf (Bloom 1998, pp. 19–20) for his mosque in the North African capital, that is, the mosque (masŷīd al-yāmi’) of ‘Alī b. Yūsuf, which construction did not start until 1126, as it is known from Arabic written documentation (Chronique des almohades et des hafçides attribuée a Zerkechi 1895, p. 8; Ḥulal al-mawšiyya, Crónica árabe de las dinastías almorávide, almohade y benimerín 1952, pp. 115–16). When the Almohads entered Marrakech in March 1147, they destroyed the mosque, while the Caliph ‘Abd al-Mu’mīn who, in the words of the author of Ḥulal al-mawšiyya, ordered the transfer to the Kutubiyya mosque “a large almimbar, which was made in al-Andalus, with extreme perfection” (Ḥulal al-mawšiyya, Crónica árabe de las dinastías almorávide, almohade y benimerín 1952, p. 172).

This minbar is 4 m high and has wooden panels with geometric ornamentation—among which eight-pointed stars predominate—arabesque and epigraphic decoration. Even the steps are adorned with horseshoe arches. Everything seems to indicate that the latter was very similar to the minbar ordered by the caliph al-Ḥakām II (961–976) for the Great Mosque of Cordova (Ibn ‘Iḏārī 1901–1904, vol. II, p. 413) and which outcome must have also seduced ‘Abd al-Mu’mīn, although according to Nieto Cumplido of Ibn Marzūq (d. 1379), it never matched its beauty (Nieto Cumplido [1998] 2008, p. 246). The geographer al-Himyarī (13th–14th century) comments on the minbar of the Cordovan aljama:

To the right of the mihrab stands the pulpit, a work without equal in the whole world. It is made of ebony, box and fragrant wood. The annals of the Umayyad dynasty explain that it took seven whole years to finish it; six teachers were employed there, not counting those who were in their service as laborers; each of these teachers received a daily salary of half mitqāl muhammadī

(Al-Ḥimyarī 1963, pp. 310–11).

A collation of all the above suggests it is logical to think that it was precisely Andalusian artists who were responsible for the construction of the minbar of the Almohad Mosque of Seville, whose description made by the court reporter Ibn Ṣāḥib al-Salā (d. after 1198) allows us to find certain similarities with the minbar-s of Cordova and Marrakech:

This pulpit was made with the most extraordinary art, of which its artisans were capable. The richest wood was chosen carved and sculpted, painted and adjusted, according to the rules of art and calculation for it with admirable work and great shape and modeling, inlaid with sandalwood and with ivory and ebony applications, shining like an ember in the fire, and with plates of gold and silver and drawings in its work of pure gold, which shine with light, and takes them, the one who sees them in the dark night, by full moons

(Ibn Ṣāḥib al-Salā 1969, pp. 197–98).

But in addition, the decoration that appears in the interior panels of the upper part of the minbar of the Kutubiyya mosque is significant. In them there is an interweaving of arches that reminds us of the solution used in the expansion of the Great Mosque of Cordova during the Umayyad caliphate of al-Ḥakām II (961–976) (Figure 4a,b)—both in the spaces known as the Villaviciosa Chapel and in the area destined to the maqṣūra—and that also can be seen, emulating the Cordovan model, in the arcade that provides access to the north hall of the Aljafería of Zaragoza and in the pavilion of intersecting arcades of the alcazaba of Málaga (Cabañero Subiza and Carmelo 2004, pp. 42–43).

This same solution appears crowning the first body of the minaret (sawma’a) of the Kutubiyya mosque (Figure 5a), which is another indication that allows us to argue the influence that the Andalusian tradition had on Almohad art, even generating new forms prolonging, in an ascending way, the cross-linked tracing of the cusped arches. I refer to the sebka cloths, typical of this period, as can be seen in the old minaret of the Almohad aljama of Seville, in the southern portico of the Patio del Yeso in the Reales Alcázares of the Sevillian capital (Figure 5b) or, as far as the domestic sphere is concerned, in house no.10 of the former Islamic settlement of Madīna Siyāsa (Cieza, Murcia) (Navarro Palazón and Jiménez Castillo 2005, p. 255, Figure 165).

As a consequence, it is not strange that Andalusian architects and artisans are found at the forefront of the most important constructions of the empire. This is the case of the architect and engineer from Málaga al-Ḥaŷŷāŷ I’yīš who, in addition to intervening in some works in al-Andalus—as in the case of Gibraltar and Seville (Ḥulal al-mawšiyya, Crónica árabe de las dinastías almorávide, almohade y benimerín 1952, p. 173; Ibn Ṣāḥib al-Salā 1969, pp. 21–23, 190–91)—he took over the construction of the maqṣūra of the Kutubiyya mosque. According to the anonymous author of the Ḥulal al-mawšiyya (14th century), it was endowed with a mechanical system, the panels of which were raised and lowered with the presence of the caliph:

The merit of this maqṣūra is that it was made with a mechanism with which it rose when the caliph would leave the palace and was lowered when he entered. That is, a door was made to the right of the miḥrab, inside which is the almimbar and to its left another door, inside which there is a room, where the mechanisms of the maqṣūra and the almimbar are and by it had ‘Abd al-Mu’mīn’s entrance and exit. When the time to go to the mosque was approaching, on Friday, the mechanisms were set in motion, after removing the tapestries from the site of the maqṣūra and raising their sides at the same time, without exceeding each other in the least. The door of the pulpit (almimbar) was closed, and when the preacher got up to go to it, the door was opened and the pulpit came out with a single thrust of the mechanism and there was no noise or visual trace of the device

(Ḥulal al-mawšiyya, Crónica árabe de las dinastías almorávide, almohade y benimerín 1952, p. 173).

However, it is not known if this particular maqṣūra corresponds to the one that was raised in the first Kutubiyya—the remains of it which were identified by Henri Terrase (Meunié 1952, pp. 45–50) or if, on the contrary, it was designed for the second Kutubiyya. This question arises when it is known that the space that included this maqṣūra does not seem to respond to the one that can be seen today in the first mosque built by the Almohads in Marrakech (Figure 6), since according to the author of Ḥulal al-mawšiyya it had “an extension of more than a thousand feet” (Ḥulal al-mawšiyya, Crónica árabe de las dinastías almorávide, almohade y benimerín 1952, p. 172).

On the other hand, and unlike the version offered by Huici Miranda, Gaston Deverdun points out in his translation, that this maqṣūra could accommodate more than 1000 men (Meunié 1952, pp. 45–47, note 4). In one way or another there is no doubt about the vast capacity of this space, raising the possibility that when the second mosque was built, they chose to build a new maqṣūra with that same mechanical system, although much larger.

Focusing therefore on the second Kutubiyya, its plan consists of 17 naves perpendicular to the qibla wall, of which the central is wider than the lateral ones, and a nave parallel to the latter is endowed with five muqarnas; that is, one in the space that precedes the miḥrab, two in the intermediate spaces and two others along the sides (Figure 7). The schema reproduces the plan of the Tinmāl mosque, according to the different studies on the subject, but on a large scale.

However, the three central naves that go to the qibla wall are of great interest. Each of them appears compartmentalized by a series of sections of transverse arches that differentiate them from the rest of the prayer room. This leads us to wonder if all this space could have had some special meaning, as happened in the Great Mosque of Cordova with the expansion of al-Ḥakām II. Following the investigations carried out (Abad Castro 2009, pp. 9–30), the space occupied by the three central naves was conceived, from the beginning, as the maqṣūra, thus a large area reserved for the caliph, his family and the court (Figure 8).

Could the three central naves of the second Kutubiyya of Marrakech be the extensive maqṣūra to which the anonymous author of Ḥulal al-mawšiyya was referring to? If this is the case, I find myself once again with the desire of the Almohads, to legitimize their position, thus emulating the Umayyad caliphate of Cordova3. What is more, according to Dolores Villalba of Kitāb al-Istibṣār, the construction of the second Kutubiyya responds, as in the Cordovan case, to the expansion of the first mosque, but without breaking down the qibla wall:

[…] Caliph al-Imama [‘Abd al-Mu’min] built a great mosque there [the Kutubiyya], then he enlarged it equally or greater [than it was before] from his Qibla because it was small, and built its great minaret, as none have been known in Islam and it was finished by his son, the caliph Abū Ya’qūb which Allāh is pleased with

(Villalba Sola 2015, p. 133, note 96).

There is even evidence of how, after completing the work of Gibraltar towards the end of 1160, the engineer from Málaga al-Ḥaŷŷāŷ I’yīš returned to Marrakech (Ibn Ṣāḥib al-Salā 1969, p. 23), possibly to be in charge of the construction of the maqṣūra of the Second Kutubiyya, to which works were carried out between 1158 and 1163. Additionally, I must mention that the first mosque was built shortly after the Almohads entered the old Almoravid capital, that was, in March 1147, when the Unitarians had not yet consolidated their position in the Ğarb al-Andalus, so I think the maqṣūra of al-Ḥaŷŷāŷ I’yīš to which the author of Ḥulal al-mawšiyya is referring to, had to be designed for the second Kutubiyya, thus imitating the expansion of al-Ḥakam II in the Great Mosque of Cordova.

All this interest in the past of al-Andalus is supported when ‘Abd al-Mu’mīn orders to move, in 1162, the Almohad capital of Andalusia from Seville to Cordova. This allows us to corroborate the attention shown by the caliph not only to recover the prominence the city of Cordova achieved during the Umayyad period, but also to emulate this magnificent period and legitimize the Almohad Caliphate (Buresi 2010, pp. 7–29). Ibn Ṣāḥib al-Salā says:

They received the supreme order [to the sayyides] to settle down in Cordova […] to be the seat of government in al-Andalus, as the Banu Umaya were entitled to, since it occupies the center of al-Andalus, and where the functions of the government officials should be fixed on, so that they would be within the reach of those who came from their region

(Ibn Ṣāḥib al-Salā 1969, p. 48).

2.3. The Andalusian Legacy in the Political, Artistic and Religious Landscape

The immediate death of Caliph ‘Abd al-Mu’mīn in 1163 resulted in his son and successor, Abū Ya’qūb Yūsuf (1163–1184), returning to Seville the rank of capital of al-Andalus. This does not mean that this taste for the Andalusian cultural legacy disappeared, but rather, that it was going to increase more over the years, as I will have occasion to argue next. A tradition that will be extended not only to the artistic field, but also to the political and religious.

As far as the political panorama is concerned, it will be at this time that the Almohads manage to incorporate the Levant kingdom of Ibn Mardanīš into their domain, specifically in the year 1172. The peaceful delivery of Šharq al-Andalus by the Mardanīšī family and their adherence to the Almohad dogma (tawḥīd), led to the latter being granted a privileged position in the court, specifically in the Almohad state and military apparatus, as is the case of Hilāl and his brother Gānim, sons of Emir Ibn Mardanīš (Ibn Ṣāḥib al-Salā 1969, pp. 225–26; Ibn al-Aṯīr 1898, p. 598; Ibn ‘Iḏārī 1963, p. 447; Al-Nuwayrī 1917, vol. II, pp. 231–32).

The importance that this family had for the Almohads led to the creation of links between the caliph Abū Ya’qūb Yūsuf and one of the daughters of Emir Ibn Mardanīš, as is known from the written documentation (Ibn ‘Iḏārī 1953–1954, vol. I, p. 22; Ibn al-Aṯīr 1898, p. 598; Ibn Abī Zar’ [1918] 1964, vol. II, p. 419; Al-Nuwayrī 1917, vol. II, p. 231). This circumstance contributed to achieving peace and tranquility among the Muslims of the Andalusian territory, in spite of the confrontations they had with the Christians. But in addition, there is evidence that his son and successor Abū Yūsuf Ya’qūb al-Manṣūr (1184–1199) also married another of the daughters of Ibn Mardanīš, Safía, from whose union the caliph Abū-l-’Ulā al-Ma’mūn (1227–1232) was born (Abd al-Wāḥid al-Marrākušī 1955, p. 202; Ibn Abī Zar’ [1918] 1964, vol. II, p. 483) (Figure 9). All this is a further indication that allows us to understand the role that al-Andalus had during the years of Almohad domination, but in what way did these unions extend beyond the merely political?

Regarding the artistic field, the repertoire of elements and constructive solutions that the Almohads assimilated and adopted in their constructions—such as the use of muqarnas, lambrequines, pointed horseshoe arches or sebka cloths, must be added to those models of Caliphate tradition, finding an exchange between both shores of the Strait. I refer to the use of the horseshoe arch, as can be seen in the old minaret of the Almohade mosque in Seville -together with lambrequines and cusped arches—or in the entrance to the southern hall of the aforementioned Patio del Yeso. This arch is framed by a fine framing in which spandrels can be seen a decoration that simulates the traditional Almohad leaves arch. This type of arch is preserved in several examples in the same portico of the Sevillian fortress, inside the miḥrab of the old mosque of Almería—current church of San Juan Evangelista—or in one of the arches recovered from the former Islamic settlement of Madīna Siyāsa (Cieza, Murcia), among others (Figure 10a,b).

But also, as an element of the Caliphate tradition, it is worth highlighting the intersecting ribbed vault. This type of constructive solution can be found in the Great Mosque of Cordova, specifically in the Chapel of Villaviciosa and in the section that precedes the miḥrab (Figure 11a), the door of the ṣabaṭ and the bayt al-māl. A system that survives in the Almoravid period, as evidenced in the Qubbat al-Barudiyyin of Marrakech or in the section that precedes the miḥrab of the mosque of Tremecén (Algeria). Even during the years of Almohad domination, this type of vault is used in the upper chamber of the minaret of the Kutubiyya mosque, which model is similar to the one that rises in the Toro-Buiza house, in the Reales Alcázares de Sevilla (Almagro Gorbea 2011, pp. 45–53) (Figure 11b), or in the Torre del Homenaje del Castillo de Villena (Ferre de Merlo 2000, pp. 303–7).

Similarly, the arrangement of the jardines de crucero brings to mind the gardens of Madīnat al-Zahrā’, among other examples such in the Taifa palace of Onda (Castellón), in the Almoravid palace of ‘Alī b. Yūsuf—on which the first Kutubiyya (Marrakech) was built—and on the Castillejo de Monteagudo or Qaṣr b. Sa’d (Murcia), built during the emirate of Ibn Mardanīš. In the Almohad period the use of the jardines de crucero became widespread, as can be seen in some examples of the Royal Alcazar of Seville. This is the case of the courtyard of the former Casa de Contratación (Figure 12).

This patio de crucero is built on top of another one which configuration is unknown, although according to the latest research it could be possible that it had the same disposition (Almagro Gorbea 2007, pp. 190–93). The present patio responds to a later transformation. In my opinion, and following Valor Piechotta (2008, pp. 94–95), it belongs to a second Almohad moment. It has four sidewalks formed by rectangular sheets of water that join a central one through a number of small bridges and four causeways for vegetation. The typical Almohad leaves arches to which I have previously referred, can be seen in the northern portico, between brick pillars and supported by thin columns. At the bottom of the portico it is possible that a triple arcade of clear Caliphate tradition was opened as an access to the north hall.

At this point, it seems evident that the Almohades showed a certain taste and inclination for the Andalusian artistic tradition. But I intend to go further. This reality is not only reflected in the assimilation of the forms, but also in the reclaiming of pieces from some Umayyad monuments in al-Andalus that were in ruins and were even taken to cities like Marrakech for the purpose of using in its palaces and mosques (Rosser-Owen 2014, pp. 152–98). Many of these pieces were marble columns and capitals from, for instance, Madīnat al-Zahrā’. This is confirmed in the minaret of the old Almohad mosque in Seville, in the aforementioned courtyard of the Casa de Contratación of the Reales Alcázares of this same city, and even in the miḥrab of the Kutubiyya mosque itself.

We are witnessing then a scenario in which the two great capitals of the Almohad empire were provided with these reclaimed pieces. But with what objective? Possibly, it might have been the idea of legitimizing the caliph ‘Abd al-Mu’mīn government, who moved the supposed Koran (Qur’ān) of Utmān of the Great Mosque of Cordova4 to the aljama of Marrakech in the year 1157 (Dessus Lamare 1938, pp. 551–57; Nieto Cumplido [1998] 2008, p. 247).

Finally, and focusing on the religious panorama, it is significant to point out how the Caliph Abū Yūsuf Ya’qūb al-Manṣūr wanted to impose the Sunni orthodoxy, characteristic of al-Andalus, against those initial dogmatic principles of the Almohad movement and suppress, at the same time, the name of Ibn Tūmart from the juṭba. However, it will not be until the caliphate of his son Abū-l-’Ulā al-Ma’mūn—fruit of his union with Safía, daughter of Ibn Mardanīš—when this initiative will be carried out:

Abū-l-’Ulā al-Ma’mūn also wrote with his own hand to all his country about suppressing the name of the Mahdī in the ceca and in the jutba -sermon- […] This is the letter quoted: From the servant of God, Idrīs, Amīr al-Mu’minīn, son of Amīr al-Mu’minīn, grandson of Amīr al-Mu’minīn, the talibes and the notables and the people and those who are with you of the believers and of the Muslims […] What we order is the fear of God and asking Him for help and trust Him; know that we have rejected the false and we have published the truth and that there is no more Mahdī than Jesus, son of Mary […] Our Lord al-Manṣūr -God be pleased with him- had thought to declare what he saw more clearly than us and in replacing for the people the truth that we have restored; but his hope was not successful and his death did not give him time […]

(Ibn ‘Iḏārī 1953–1954, vol. I, pp. 319–20)5.

In my opinion, it is possible that the contact with al-Andalus justified this measure. However, we wonder if the mardanīšī affiliation of Abū-l-’Ulā al-Ma’mūn could have contributed to this, just as it also had to happen in the artistic field in which taste shown by the Almohads towards the Andalusian was still enhanced more from the submission of the Banū Mardanīš and their adherence to the Almohad dogma in 1172.

3. Conclusions

As a result of the territorial, political and religious expansion that the Almohads undertook in the Islamic West against the relaxation of the strict Almoravids’ Islamic orthodoxy, al-Andalus became part of this reformist empire in the middle 12th century. With its incorporation, and given its importance during the Caliphate period, the Andalusian territory became an “instrument” through which this dynasty was able to consolidate and legitimize the emergence of a new caliphate.

This was proven when the Caliph ‘Abd al-Mu’mīn ordered the Almohad capital of Andalusia to be moved from Seville to Cordova in 1161, with the aim of converting the former Umayyad capital into the political-administrative centre of al-Andalus. In this sense, it is enough to recall how, in 1157, ‘Abd al-Mu’mīn transferred the precious Koran from the Cordovan aljama to the Kutubiyya Mosque in Marrakech. This Koran was identified in some Arab sources with the Koran at Utmān and, despite the existing doubts of its attribution, allows us to reaffirm the Almohads’ desire to be the continuation of the Umayyad Caliphate of Cordova. Even the close ties the Almohads maintained with their main opponents, the Banū Mardanīš, allow to corroborate this reality.

Besides, as we have been able to verify from the written Arabic documentation and from the material testimonies that have come down to us, from the first years of this reformist movement, there was a certain interest in the Andalusian cultural legacy that was increasing with the passage of time. This objective contributed to legitimize the position of this caliphate that emerged in the Islamic West, the Almohad. This can be seen through: the taste that the Unitarians were gradually showing towards the Andalusian art, as happened with the ancient Almoravid minbar of the Kutubiyya mosque or with the imitation of various architectural and decorative formulas; the cultural exchange between both shores of the Strait, with the presence, for example, of Andalusian artists in North Africa; and finally, the reclaim of numerous pieces of ancient monuments in ruins, as happened with those coming from Madināt al-Zahrā’ and which can be seen in Almohad buildings.

This idea of legitimization the Almohad caliphate through Umayyad cultural tradition is reflected in the words of the compiler Ibn ‘Iḏārī al-Marrakūšī (d. after 1313), referred to the time when the caliph Abū Yūsuf Ya’qūb al-Manṣūr traveled to Cordova in the year 1190 “and he stayed at the alcázar, which Brother Abū Yahyā had the pleasure of building, and went after that to al- Zahrā’ for the purpose of meditating on the monuments of bygone centuries and peoples of the past” (Ibn ‘Iḏārī 1953–1954, vol. I, p. 158).