Ibn Sahl’s Eleventh-Century Commentary on Tenth-Century Legal Opinions and Judgments
In the previous essays, I described the emergence of Mālikī “mother texts” in the middle of the third/ninth century. These were compilations of authoritative statements attributed to Mālik (d.179/795) and his students based on the auditions of the next generation (masāʾil, sg. mas’ala), including Saḥnūn (d. 240/854), Yaḥyā Ibn Yaḥyā (d. 234/848), ʿĪsā ibn Dīnār (d. 212/828), and others. The work of these scholars and their students then became authoritative in their own right; Ibn Abī Zayd (d. 386/996), who studied with and taught Andalusīs that traveled to Qayrawan in the next century, assembled the masāʾil and opinions of these proto- and early Mālikīs in al-Nawādir wa’l-ziyādāt (The Rare Cases and Additions), which became another Mālikī “mother text.” These texts provided an institutional foundation for the Mālikī madhhab (school of law).
Prior to the compilation of such “mother texts,” legal opinions and judgments in al-Andalus may have been based on masāʾil transmitted by one or more Andalusīs from one or more of Mālik’s students in a relatively undisciplined way. For example, in Cordoba, proto-Mālikīs preferred to follow the opinions of Ibn al-Qāsim (d. 191/806);[1] but Ibn Ḥabīb (d. 238/853) from Elvira did not transmit from Ibn al-Qāsim; and Ibn Muʿammar (d. after 218/ 833) of Seville transmitted from Mālik’s student Ashhab b. ʿAbd al-Azīz (d. 204/819) and consulted with the Egyptian Aṣbagh b. al-Faraj (d. 225/840), a student of Mālik’s student Ibn Wahb.[2] By the fourth/tenth century, the most authoritative jurists had memorized and studied the books of masāʾil and perhaps also studied ḥadīth, while a few knew, if they did not apply, the methods of uṣūl al-fiqh (jurisprudence) as articulated by al-Shāfiʿī and his students.[3] The authority of Cordoban jurists over jurists in the rest of al-Andalus was well established with the support of the Umayyad caliphate and its centralization of authority.[4]
The collapse of the Western Umayyad caliphate in the first decades of the fifth/eleventh century followed a destructive revolt by Berber soldiers and civil war. These developments led to the emergence of the Ṭāʿifa (Party) Kingdoms, whose rulers were intent on securing military dominion and dynastic authority over territory and were responsible for ensuring justice for their subjects.[5]
Competition and warfare among these kingdoms contributed to the movement of scholars and jurists from one location to another. For example, the jurist Abū al-Aṣbagh Ibn Sahl (d. 486/1093), like others of his generation, had a peripatetic career of study and teaching that involved serving in the administration of justice in numerous locations.[6] He grew up in the region of Jaen where he began his studies, which also took him initially to Cordoba and Granada.[7] He lost his position as assistant to the judge of three districts of Jaen when the amīr (ruler) of Almeria, who had appointed him, died.[8] After six years back in Cordoba, he moved to Toledo, where he served as assistant to the chief judge from circa 450–456/1058–1064 when he was dismissed.[9] He returned to Cordoba where he consulted as a jurist from 456–463/1064–1075 and then moved to Seville.[10] From there, Ibn Sahl crossed the Strait of Gibraltar between 468/1079 and 470/1083 and spent some years in Ceuta under the rule of the Barghawata amīr, until the Almoravids conquered the city in 476/1083. He then moved to Tangier where he served as judge from 476–481/1083–1088 before returning to al-Andalus.[11] He traveled to al-Andalus in the company of the Almoravid amīr Yūsuf Ibn Tāshfīn on his campaign to besiege Aledo (in Murcia) in the summer of 481/1088.[12] During the failed siege, the amīr of Granada invited Ibn Sahl to serve as judge of Granada, and he accepted. In 483/1090, when the Granadan amīr sent Ibn Sahl to Ceuta as an envoy to Yūsuf Ibn Tāshfīn who was preparing to attack, Ibn Sahl betrayed the amīr and joined the Almoravids.[13] He briefly served as qadi of Granada under Almoravid rule before his death in 486/1093.[14]
In this essay, I discuss Ibn Sahl’s al-Aḥkām al-kubrā (Major Collection of Legal Rulings, also known as Nawāzil Ibn Sahl) which upholds the legacy and extends the authority of Cordoban jurists, particularly those of his teachers Muḥammad Ibn ʿAttāb (d. 472/1079) and Aḥmad b. Muḥammad Ibn al-Qaṭṭān (d. 460/1068), in a context of political decentralization. His work, which he wrote while in Ceuta, is an intriguing source for investigation of the fourth/tenth century. In addition to his own fatwās (legal responsa) and those of his teachers, he presents and discusses the decisions of two tenth-century Cordoban judges: Aḥmad Ibn Ziyād (d. 312/924), who served two terms (291–300/903–4 to 912–13; 309–312/921–2 to 924) and Muḥammad Ibn Zarb (d. 381/991). He also included the opinions of the muftīs (jurisconsults) they consulted. However, he does not present all aspects of a case or parse the legal thinking of the fourth/tenth-century fatwā writers; rather, he provides didactic ‘case notes’ on individual fatwās, using them more as prompts than subjects of analysis.
Consider Ibn Sahl’s commentary on a case that came before Judge Ibn Ziyād, who consulted his fellow jurists Muḥammad Ibn Walīd (d. 309/922), Ayyūb Ibn Sulaymān (d. 302/913), and Muḥammad Ibn Lubāba (d. 312/926). In the quotation below, the jurists summarize the judge’s question and offer their opinion—this is the fatwā as Ibn Sahl presents it. Ibn Sahl’s comments follow.
They wrote:
We have understood—may God grant you success—the matter of the complaint brought before you by a woman from Trujillo [Tarjīla], against a man who absconded with her young child. The man acknowledged the removal of the child, but claimed that she was his wife, whom he had married in Cordoba. The woman confirmed his claim of marriage. However, the marriage was not verified to you. The woman said, “He has only taken the child away from me to make me give myself to him without providing my legal maintenance or giving anything in return [presumably her ṣadaqa].” You ordered the man imprisoned until the boy was brought back, since you could not be assured that he [the boy] would not be kept away, and that then the woman would follow the man wherever he wished, and do whatever he desired, out of compassion for her child. You wished to know whether constraining him with imprisonment was correct.
We say that what you did in this matter was correct and sound. We all agree that a judge has the right to exercise his independent judgment (ijtihād) in cases such as this and similar ones. May God increase the judge’s soundness of judgment and success, for he has looked at nothing but the truth, and we have witnessed his handling of this matter, and we saw in the speech and conduct of the man from Trujillo such behavior as would warrant his being disciplined, apart from his imprisonment.
Ibn Sahl adds:
They mentioned that the man from Trujillo claimed that this woman was his wife, and that he had married her in Cordoba, and that the woman confirmed this. They also said that the “marriage was not verified to you.” I wish I knew what prevented the judge (and the jurists) from finding out from her where the marriage was contracted, who the guardian (walī) who contracted it was, and who the witnesses were. For if it became clear to the judge they were both lying [about the marriage] and they acknowledged that the child was theirs, or that the man had some claim over her because of the child, or that he had had intercourse with her — then he should impose the prescribed punishment (ḥadd) on both of them [for zinā, illicit sex].[15]
He then cites the authority of the Mudawwana “and other works” to dismiss the probity of the woman’s claim and suggest how the investigation should have proceeded according to the example of the mas’ala regarding the pregnant woman who says she was coerced rather than the mas’ala of two outsiders who come to the judge’s court to resolve a dispute.
If we read the fatwā as evidence for the fourth/tenth century, we might surmise a mutual relationship of respect and support among the judge and the muftīs; the biographer Ibn Ḥārith, however, describes rivalries, disputes and reconciliations.[16] The judge thinks creatively to address the crisis of the missing child and seems sympathetic to the plight of the woman. The use of the word “ijtihād” in this context represents the judge’s reasoned decision based on his general legal knowledge and the circumstances. Perhaps uncertain or insecure about his decision to imprison a man without a determination of guilt, he seeks confirmation of the decision from the jurists. The jurists’ reply suggests they had prior knowledge of the case and the individuals involved, which likely informed their support for the judge’s actions. We really cannot know how the judge conducted the case beyond what is on the page. It is unclear if Ibn Sahl knew more. What we see from Ibn Sahl’s perspective is that there is no clear reference to any kind of evidence. For him, the case is an opportunity to reiterate a point he makes repeatedly about securing sound evidence (bayyina). Arguably, as a jurist who served with judges in multiple locations, Ibn Sahl was particularly interested in promoting norms of judicial practice and the proper use of evidence.[17]
Another case offers a more extended example of Ibn Sahl’s use of the masāʾil to support his focus on the importance of evidence to the resolution of legal cases. Again, Ibn Sahl quotes the jurists’ summary of the question posed to them and their answer and then provides a commentary.[18] The jurists who issued this fatwā were Ibn Lubāba (d. 312/926), Ibn Walīd (d. 309/922), and Muḥammad b. Ghalib (d. 295/908).
We have understood—may God grant you success—the dispute between the Jew and the young man (ghulām) who converted to Islam and was removed from the Jew’s custody. The youth claimed that he had served him as a free person, son of two free parents, and that when he wished to leave his service the Jew seized him until he cried out and the judge had him removed from his custody. The Jew said, “He is my slave and I bought him from some Toledans four years ago.”
The boy should be granted a delay to bring some proof (bayyina) of what he has claimed if there is any hope of doing so. If it becomes apparent that he cannot provide proof and requests that the Jew swear an oath that the youth was not in service with him as a free person but as a slave, that is required. And if the Jew swears, the judge should order the sale of the youth and the payment of his price to the Jew.
Ibn Sahl’s comments begin with reference to Ibn al-Qāsim’s opinions in the Mudawwana that have to do with a child’s statement, upon reaching maturity, that he is free. Ibn al-Qāsim asserts the youth’s statement has no legal significance when it is well-known that the youth had been in possession of his master and served him. However, if the youth were only loosely attached to the man he worked for and was not in his custody, then his statement does have bearing.[19] Based on this text, Ibn Sahl argues that the jurists in this case needed to establish if the youth was known to have been in the Jew’s service for the four years. In his view, instead of doing so, they seem to have trusted the latter’s statement simply because the youth affirmed he had been in service. They needed to investigate the Jew’s claims; in a case like this, he argues, proof of ownership must be imposed.
Ibn Sahl elaborates with reference to related masāʾil in “the book of Ibn Saḥnūn and others.”[20] If a hired man says he is free, he should be believed, because service alone is not an indication of slave status. Expanding on and clarifying Ibn al-Qāsim’s opinions in the Mudawwana, Ibn Sahl observes the indications of slave status thus include the putative master’s custody of a person, the knowledge of others, such as adjoining neighbors, of the slave’s status, and the long service over an extended period of time, beyond the limits of employment for wages.[21] Returning to the case, Ibn Sahl suggests that if the youth’s status as a slave and his period of service was not known among the neighbors and the locale where they lived, then the Jew should be required to prove his claim of ownership and the youth should be given every opportunity to secure any kind of evidence of his free status.[22]
Ibn Sahl again turns to the masāʾil as the foundation of legal decision-making, observing that there are many masāʾil that address a slave’s claims to freedom. He indicates he has selected one, which follows, to drive home his argument that effort should have been made to verify the youth’s statement of his freedom, and that the Cordoban jurists failed to indicate this in their fatwā.[23]
The mas’ala Ibn Sahl selected, he notes, comes from Ibn Ḥabīb’s book al-Wāḍiḥa [The Clear Exposition].[24] Ibn Kināna (d. 186/802) asked Mālik about a slave who claimed that he was a free person and that he had witnesses in such-and-such a place. The “master” demanded that the “slave” provide a guarantor (ḥamīl) (if he were to go seek the evidence) but he could not find one.[25] Mālik answered that if the slave could produce a shred of evidence to support his claim, he would be permitted to go and bring his proof after providing a guarantor for his master.[26] If he could not provide a guarantor, he would be temporarily imprisoned while an agent would handle the matter, sending inquiries to the place the slave mentioned.[27] In this way, either the master’s claims that he established his ownership and custody of the slave, or the slave’s denial of his enslavement, would be confirmed.
Again, Ibn Sahl’s citation of this fourth/tenth-century case preserves an interesting bit of social-historical evidence but does not tell us much about the reasoning of the jurists. His discussion, however, demonstrates the salience of the masāʾil as prooftexts in legal arguments in his own time, and we can see echoes of some of the texts he cites in the fatwā itself; the jurists intended to give the youth a chance to gather some proof for his claim before pursuing next steps.
Notes:
[1] Maribel Fierro, “Proto-Mālikis, Mālikis, and Reformed Mālikis in al-Andalus,” in The Islamic Schools of Law: Evolution, Devolution, and Progress, ed. P. Bearman, R. Peters, F. E. Vogel (Cambridge, 2005), 66.
[2] Fierro, “Proto-Mālikis,” 79–85, 87–89; Spanish pp. 98–105, 106–10.
[3] See Camilla Adang, “The Religious Sciences,” in The Routledge Handbook of Muslim Iberia, ed. Maribel Fierro (Routledge, 2020), 374–81.
[4] See Maribel Fierro and Manuela Marín, “La islamicización de las ciudades Andalusies a través de sus `ulamas (s. ii/viii-comienzos s. iv/x)” in Genèse de la ville islamique en al-Andalus et au Maghreb occidental, ed. Patrice Cressier, Mercedes Garcia Arenal (Casa Velazquez, 1998), 65–97; Adang, “The Religious Sciences,” 374–81.
[5] The authoritative work on this period is David J. Wasserstein, The Rise and Fall of the Party-Kings (Princeton University Press, 1985).
[6] Yaḥya Murād provides a biography of Ibn Sahl in the introduction to his edition of Abū al-Aṣbagh Ibn Sahl, Diwān al-aḥkām al-kubra (Cairo: Dār al-Ḥadīth, 2007), 7–21.
[7] Ibn Sahl, Diwān al-aḥkām, 9.
[8] Ibn Sahl, Diwān al-aḥkām, 10.
[9] Ibn Sahl, Diwān al-aḥkām, 10–11.
[10] Ibn Sahl, Diwān al-aḥkām, 11–12.
[11] Ibn Sahl, Diwān al-aḥkām, 12–14.
[12] Ibn Sahl, Diwān al-aḥkām, 14–15.
[13] Ibn Sahl, Diwān al-aḥkām, 15.
[14] Ibn Sahl, Diwān al-aḥkām, 18.
[15] Ibn Sahl, Diwān al-aḥkām, 417–18.
[16] Muḥammad Ibn Ḥārith al-Khushanī, Kitāb al-quḍāt bi-Qurṭuba (Historia de los jueces de Cordoba), ed. and trans. Julian Ribera (Madrid: Maestre, 1914), Arabic pp. 174–83, 188–91; Spanish pp. 215–25, 234–37.
[17] Indeed, al-Aḥkām al-kubra is a useful source for investigating legal norms and practices in eleventh century al-Andalus. Christian Müller, “Judging with God’s Law on Earth: Judicial Powers of the Qāḍī al-jamāʿa of Cordoba in the Fifth/Eleventh Century,” Journal of Islamic Law and Society, 7 (2000): 159–86.
[18] Ibn Sahl, Aḥkām 460–62.
[19] Ibn Sahl, Aḥkām 460–61.
[20] Ibn Sahl, Aḥkām, 461.
[21] Ibn Sahl, Aḥkām, 461.
[22] Ibn Sahl, Aḥkām, 461.
[23] Ibn Sahl, Aḥkām, 461.
[24] Ibn Sahl, Aḥkām, 461.
[25] Ibn Sahl, Aḥkām, 461–62.
[26] Ibn Sahl, Aḥkām, 462.
[27] Ibn Sahl, Aḥkām, 462.
Suggested Bluebook citation: Janina Safran, Ibn Sahl’s Eleventh-Century Commentary on Tenth-Century Legal Opinions and Judgments, Islamic Law Blog (June 23, 2026), https://islamiclaw.blog/2026/07/23/ibn-sahls-eleventh-century-commentary-on-tenth-century-legal-opinions-and-judgments.
Suggested Chicago citation: Janina Safran, “Ibn Sahl’s Eleventh-Century Commentary on Tenth-Century Legal Opinions and Judgments,” Islamic Law Blog, June 23, 2026, https://islamiclaw.blog/2026/07/23/ibn-sahls-eleventh-century-commentary-on-tenth-century-legal-opinions-and-judgments.
