Visitors of today’s Istanbul are often overwhelmed. This was also true for travellers coming from Arabian countries in the Early Modern period, between the sixteenth and eighteenth centuries. Some of them shall be presented in the following. When Ottoman armies conquered Syria (Bilad al-Sham) in 1516 and later most of the other Arab lands with some exceptions like Morocco, relations of the inhabitants of these provinces to the city of Istanbul changed. After the Ottoman conquest in 1453, Istanbul had of course already been the centre of an Islamic World and thus culturally rather close to the Muslims in the conquered Arab lands, but now it had also become their political and administrative capital. Istanbul-based institutions and functionaries were responsible for their affaires and imposed new rules in fields like law, fiscal regime and education. Many kinds of interactions evolved from this between people from the Arab provinces and the “Rumis”, as the Istanbul dwellers were mostly called in Arabic texts. Be it that letters were exchanged, be it that people travelled to Istanbul in order to study, to arrange affairs or to settle permanently. These changes brought about literary perceptions which differed from those held by Arabic writing authors on pre-1516 Ottoman Istanbul and pre-1453 Byzantine Constantinople. We can see these perceptions in various kinds of texts, in travelogues, maqamas (short stories) and also poetry.1 As for the Moroccans, they did not come under Ottoman rule, but also their relations to Istanbul changed. Because the Ottoman Empire dominated large parts of the Mediterranean area up to the Moroccan borders since the sixteenth century, it became a political power the Moroccan rulers often had to deal with. Many ambassadors were sent to Istanbul. Some of them wrote travel accounts.
Of course there was not only one Arab image of Istanbul, but the different authors of descriptions had individual impressions. This shall be highlighted in the following, but also some general trends will be shown. Before we look at the Early Modern texts, it might be interesting for the sake of comparison to consider an Arabic text on Byzantine Constantinople, the “Rihla” of the fourteenth century Moroccan Berber Ibn Battuta. He claims that he accompanied the daughter of a Byzantine emperor who had married a Muslim Mongol ruler on a visit of her home. Their reception was splendid:
We camped at a distance of ten miles from Constantinople, and on the following day its population, men, women, and children came out riding or on foot in their finest array and richest apparel. At dawn the drums, trumpets and fifes were sounded…Our entry into Constantinople the Great was made about noon or a little later, and they beat their church-gongs until the very skies shook with the mingling of their sounds.2
The Christian practices at first seemed strange and somewhat frightening to Ibn Battuta, but then he found himself well received and even met the emporer. He visited the city:
He then bestowed on me a robe of honour and ordered for me a horse with saddle and bridle, and a parasol of the kind that the king has carried above his head, that being a sign of protection.3
Hagia Sophia was the biggest church of the Christians, says Ibn Battuta. Its origins go back to a remote and mythical past:
… the story goes that it was an erection of Ᾱṣaf the son of Barakhyā’, the son of the maternal aunt of Solomon (on whom be peace)4
Obviously, Ibn Battuta did not want to present the history of the church from a Christian point of view, but he integrated it into Muslim salvatory historiography.
The difference to Early Modern accounts is small. Thus, we find a similar approach in the text of another Moroccan writer, Ali al-Tamgruti (d. 1594 or 1595), an ambassador on behalf of the Moroccan Sultan Mawlay Ahmad al-Mansur (1549-1603) who visited Ottoman Istanbul in 1589-1590. He indicates that already the Prophet spoke of the Islamization of the city:
The first troops of my people who conquer the city of Caesar, will receive forgiveness from God.5
This alleged saying by Prophet Muhammad is somewhat corroborated by al-Tamgruti’s description of Istanbul as a flourishing place with pious Muslim citizens.6 al-Tamgruti names the quarters İstanbul on the right side of the very good harbour, Galata on the left and the southern part Üsküdar. Goods from all over the world were imported and sold in the well-provided markets. The streets were all paved. Beside the many mosques - all enjoyed a constant water supply – al-Tamgruti mentions the tekkes, which he compares to the madrasas (schools) and zawiyas (sufi lodges) which were known to his Moroccan readers. The grave of Abu Ayyub al-Ansari, companion of the Prophet who have died during the first Muslim siege of the city, gave Istanbul a special religious dignity. Scholars from different law schools worked there except Malikis, notes al-Tamgruti probably with some indignation since he himself belonged to that madhhab dominant in Morocco. Nevertheless, he praises the level of learning in Istanbul, also visible by the huge amount of books that are sold there.
As an ambassador he was well received at the Ottoman court. He learned about Ottoman political practices that astonished him, like the killing of a new Sultan’s brothers on a regular basis. In a palace near Suleymaniye mosque the Sultan’s concubines lived, says al-Tamgruti and adds that Turks in general preferred slave girls rather than free women. Another Turkish habit was their striving for money and other worldly things. On the other hand, they did not forget the otherworldly, religious duties like the Holy War which they pursued constantly. Istanbul was a cosmopolitan city where Jews, Christians and Muslims lived next to each other. al-Tamgruti notes that during a fire in Jumada al-Awwal 996 (April 1588) the Jews were most severely hit.7 Obviously, he wanted to slander the Jews.
Not only Morocco sent ambassadors to Istanbul. We also have the report of Qutb al-Din al-Nahrawali (d. 1582) who came from Mecca in 1558 as an agent of Sharif Hasan Abu Numayy (d. 1601).8 In this time, Mecca was under Ottoman control, but the local dynasty of the Sharifs enjoyed a certain political autonomy. al-Nahrawali tried to reach the demission of an Ottoman representative in Mecca, but he failed and left Istanbul deeply disappointed. He does not tell us much of Istanbul’s appearance, but more about the Ottoman political establishment, the viziers, the muftis and other functionaries whom he had to deal with. He also met scholars like the great sheikh al-Islam Abu al-Su’ud Efendi (d. 1574) and his son Ahmad whom al-Nahrawali praises for his skills in Arabic poetry that surpassed even those of the Arabs.9
Many visitors from the Ottoman provinces who described Istanbul were interested in its scholars and their activities. One of them is the Damascene Badr al-Din al-Ghazzi (d. 1577) who went to Istanbul in 1530 to secure scholarly positions for himself. For this purpose, he had to approach authorities at the court. Though Badr al-Din travelled only grudgingly, he starts his description of Istanbul with an eulogy:
The biggest city freed by the hand of justice from moral destruction. How often did a tremendously great king of the past court her and offered the choicest dowry? She defended herself as strict as possible until the one came who was announced in a message that needs long interpretation: The late martyr Mehmed Khan. Her stubbornness dwindled so that she bowed her neck.10
Badr al-Din praises the building activities of this Sultan Mehmed I, the conqueror (1432–1481): Eleven mosques, eight of them vested with madrasas, in another one meals are served to the scholars, one is for the khutba on Friday, and the eleventh contains a hospital. Above all, he was keen to meet colleagues in Istanbul which he did on many occasions. He underlines that the city attracted many Muslim scholars descending from the Arabs, the Rum and the Adjam (Persians). In the meantime, Badr al-Din’s case stagnated for many months. One reason was a great feast for the circumcision of the sultan’s son which occupied the administration. This delay affected Badr al-Din’s attitude towards Istanbul significantly:
I moved around among the people of this city like a white birth sign on a black bull. And I suffered from alienation and sorrow without companion, friend and brother. My heart was lonely and my mind confused. (...) Sorrow was my steady companion because I was separated from mother, children and wife, and because I strove for a thing that was not easy to get and plunged into circumstances I did not expect.11
Now it came true what he had heard from somebody in Damascus:
The people in Rum do not know the worth of any person and do not care for the one who travels to them.12
Certainly this was somewhat overstressed. But the remark represents a current literary topos which expresses an emotional and moral distance to Istanbul that was shared by many Arab authors of the early modern period. After all it was an alien environment for them.
Yet Badr al-Din’s anger also derived from a concrete background. He was victim to intrigues of influential Damascene competitors who also used their influence in the Ottoman capital. After 1516, Istanbul had become an arena of conflicting interests in the Arab provinces.
Another Syrian traveller was Muhibb al-Din al-Hamawi (d. 1610) who had served as a minor qadi in Egypt and Syria before he was suddenly deposed, unjustly as he felt. In order to be reinstalled he approached the Anadolu qadi-askar in Istanbul who was responsible for the legal bureaucracy in the Arab provinces. Muhibb al-Din’s wish was not heard over a period of many months although he courted the qadi and sent him praise poems to flatter his mind.13 Muhibb al-Din felt humiliated, like Badr al-Din before him; all the more several incompetent scholars were promoted instead of himself. He was especially infuriated by the fact that Turkish colleagues with a poor command of the Arabic language succeeded. Yet, he looked at many other Istanbul scholars with more lenity, especially at those who furthered his strive. During his long sojourn in Istanbul between 1573 and 1575, Muhibb al-Din al-Hamawi even became part of the local society. In a kind of a journal he reports important events.14 Who was promoted to a position, who was deposed, who died – all this was of interest for the visitor. He also mentions the death of Sultan Selim II in 1574. Then a new qadi askar was installed, a person who had earlier supported Muhibb al-Din and now provided him with a new post somewhere in Syria. He left Istanbul happily.
Many Arabic descriptions speak about the devastating fires which frequently occurred in Istanbul with its wooden buildings. The job-seeking traveller Hafiz al-Din al-Qudsi (d. 1645 or 1646) who left his home town Jerusalem towards Istanbul in 1604 witnessed a fire that destroyed much property, but, as he says, did even more damage to men’s souls. Istanbulites were too eager for worldly affaires whereas he, a pious man, did not care for this.15 Hafiz al-Din had lost all his belongings in a shipwreck on the journey from Alexandria to Istanbul, a common route for visitors who did not come on land via Anatolia. Among the rich society of Istanbul he felt shy because of his poverty and seldom left his lodging. Yet, what troubled him more were the intrigues of scholars striving for favours from the Ottoman administration. Once he was approached by some foreigners who slandered Istanbul, but only to make him leave the city so that they get a post instead of him.16
Whereas in the end a pious and just Ottoman functionary helped al-Qudsi into a position, other Istanbul travellers failed. One of them is Muhammad Kibrit (d. 1659) from Medina who regarded himself as a literary expert and hoped to find a patron among the grandees of the capital in 1630. However, he was not appreciated because of their lack of taste and learning and also because Istanbul attracted many charlatans:
I saw in Istanbul people from Jerusalem, Damascus and other places with turbans like castles and sleeves like saddlebags who stood at the doors.17
Among these unworthy figures the true intellectual was not easy to discern for potential patrons, Kibrit admits. Another lesson he learned in Istanbul was not to blame those who did not grant him support but to blame himself for having come to the city.18 He also realized that the benefits he might have gained there were after all just transitive pleasures which time would erase after a while. In Kibrit’s report, Istanbul is a theatre where the devastating effects of time can be observed.
The Egyptian scholar and poet Ahmad b. Muhammad al-Khafadji (d. 1659) who visited Istanbul several times is even more critical than Kibrit. When he first came to the city in his youth in order to study, he met competent teachers. But when he returned after his promotion to a qadiship in Egypt, he found it sadly deteriorated:
Religion became a toy and object of mockery. Sultans and viziers even dared to kill or insult the scholars.19
When al-Khafadji expressed this view openly he was deposed and had to leave the city. In his autobiographical Maqama Rumiya he depicts Istanbul as a society which only strove for worldly desires. And even the sufis were no exception:
They shy away from righteousness and trade with ascetism. Their shop is the carpet of the shaykh.20
al-Khafadji is quoted with some approval in the travelogue of the Medinan writer Ibrahim al-Khiyari (d. 1672) who visited Istanbul in 1669-1671, although in general, he expresses a more nuanced view.21 al-Khiyari’s text stands out among Early Modern Arabic descriptions because it represents the most detailed and comprehensive account of Istanbul and the customs of its inhabitants. Especially noticeable is the way the author renders his feeling of strangeness in a society whose dominant language, Turkish, he did not understand. Although being Muslim and a scholar, he remained an outsider. But he adopted this role willingly, so it seems, because it granted him a distanced and even ironic perspective on Istanbul society and culture. E.g. al-Khiyari found that once people began the feast of Ramadan two days too early because they relied not on astronomical time-calculation, but on their watches, which were a widespread, though incompetently used commodity.22 Here we have one of the very rare hints to the European origins of “modern” features in Ottoman live ever found in Early Modern Arabic literature. Another subject of al-Khiyari’s mockery is the announcement of an earthquake by some astrologers who later were proven utterly wrong. Of course, this was to be expected, comments the visitor and adds a verse:
Since they do not even master the sciences of the earth, how can they know about the sky?23
Though in a way an eccentric people, the Istanbulites could not be accused of neglecting religion and education, says al-Khiyari contradicting the earlier visitor al-Khafadji. Thus, during Ramadan, mosques were crowded and the sermons of scholars attended by all kinds of people, notables, commoners, man and women alike. And although sinful behavior was widespread, like drinking of alcohol even among Muslims, critical voices did not lack, like that of the scholar Vani Efendi (d. 1685), exponent of the Kadizadeli movement, whose admonitory sermon al-Khiyari witnessed in 1670.
Another reaction to al-Khafadji’s critique of Istanbul is offered by the Damascene Khalwati-Sufi Mustafa al-Bakri (d. 1749) who also wrote a Maqama Rumiyya (1725). In this text the narrator, a sufi shaykh, obviously al-Bakri himself, arrives with a group of adepts at Üsküdar. They cross the Bosphorus in a boat driven by handsome rowers who are also witty and eloquent. The young sufis were bewitched by this encounter and the narrator became afraid that they might lose their moral integrity:
So I tried to awake them in order to take away the destructive confusion from them. I said: „Look at these ships that carry goods which are a benefit for the people.“24
Here the scenery of the Bosphorus attains a semiotic quality. The “ships” serve as a moral exemplum for the visitors: While they bring goods useful for the worldly life, the sufis should behave as bearers of spiritual qualities that serve otherworldly goals. In spite of the admonition the adepts at first remain dazzled by the temptations of the city and it takes the narrator a while to convince them.
In this story Istanbul is a place where the vanities of this-worldly life are especially menacing for a sufi, a subject taken up again by al-Bakri in his versified autobiography. During his three year stay in Istanbul in 1723-1726 he lived in state of khalwa, a mystical seclusion, he claims.25 This seems hardly plausible since in other cities which al-Bakri visited he integrated into the local society and entertained many personal relations. What he wants to express with this statement is that he kept away from the institutions of power in Istanbul and did not strive for a post, money or other worldly benefits.
From archival sources it is known, that many sufis did have material interests in Istanbul, be it that they were installed as masters of tekkes in the city, be it that they enjoyed revenues from pious foundations installed by Ottoman grandees in the Arab provinces. Only this is not always admitted in sufi literature. Another example for the presentation of an idealized sufi self-image is provided in the autobiography of the Hama born Qadiriyya sheikh Mustafa al-Latifi (d. 1711).26 After he had left his home in order to search for an appropriate sufi master he visited many cities in the Middle East, India and Africa and gave detailed reports of his adventures there. But the passage on Istanbul stands out in his story: “I came to Istanbul, stayed one day and left again.”27 That is all. In line with other sufis he casts away any suspicion that he might have looked for worldly things in the Ottoman capital. Another Qadiriyya member who wrote an autobiography was Taha al-Kurdi (d. 1800) from a village near Mosul. He stayed a whole year in Istanbul, but does not say a word about what happened to him there.28 In contrast he describes places like Aleppo or Damascus in great detail. Again, the special status of Istanbul becomes visible here. The message to the readers is: It is better not to be in Istanbul.
But this was theory. In practice, sufis, scholars and others, most of whom did not leave a written account, visited Istanbul for various purposes. Among the already mentioned group of Moroccan ambassadors is Muhammad b. Abd al-Wahhab al-Miknasi (d. 1798) who came in 1785.29 Representing Sultan Muhammad b. Abd Allah from Morocco, he was well received by the Ottoman Sultan Abd al-Hamid I (1725-89). A remarkable feature of his travelogue is the lengthy history of the Ottoman Empire and the description of the Kağıthane valley with its river and gardens which is not mentioned by other travellers. Often the sultan and other people go there for recreation and pleasure at the banks of the river riding on little boats, even women and children, says al-Miknasi. “The men are on one side, the women on the other”.30 Though the city pleases him a lot, al-Miknasi closes his description with a critical remark, saying that the Rumis do not receive Arab visitors with due hospitality and do not invite them to their homes as he seems to have expected.
Nearly at the same time al-Miknasi stayed in the city, the Moroccan sultan sent another ambassador to Istanbul, Abu al-Qasim al-Zayyani (1734-1833).31 Other than al-Miknasi who was much interested in the social life, al-Zayyani has an eye for the administration and industrial facilities. Thus, he visited the mint (Arabic: dar al-darb) and the “house of glass” (Arabic: dar al-zujaj) for the production of glass and also the “dar al-handasa” where the arts of architecture and mathematics were taught.32
In general, we should keep in mind that the Arab literary images of Istanbul do not always reflect real situations. The aforementioned texts are no travel guides, nor scientific or journalistic reports that claim objectivity. Rather they should be regarded as Ego-documents that cast personal messages in the form of travel narratives. Authors with a general pessimistic world view like Muhammad Kibrit present Istanbul as a theatre where bad fate is acting, for sufis it was a place of moral temptation par excellence, whereas ambassadors were impressed by the imperial splendour of the Ottoman capitol that was unsurpassed in their era.
Of course, Istanbul changed between the sixteenth and eighteenth century, the period that we have focused on, but questions of urban development are generally not discussed in the Arabic texts. Certainly, al-Khafadji speaks about a moral decline occurring during his lifetime in the first half of the seventeenth century. But do we have to regard this as an objective observation of a “decline” of the post-Suleyman Ottoman Empire, a thesis which is much discussed in research literature? Probably not, since shortly after al-Khafadji another traveller, al-Khiyari presents Istanbul as a flourishing centre of Islamic culture, and so does the eighteenth century visitor al-Miknasi. The literary images of Istanbul do not seem to vary systematically according to certain historical periods. This is partly due to the fact that authors sometimes copied earlier texts, as did Badr al-Din al-Ghazzi in the description of a hospital (maristan) in Istanbul:
This hospital is among the best things, a building of more beauty was never seen, nothing more nicely erected. In none more benevolent things are found, no better drinking and eating. They have healing liquids, splendid and powders, good and remarkable medicines ... Everything is organized by diligent doctors and notaries, well informed inspectors and eager servants. All of them are experts in their crafts which they fulfill trustworthy, just and without failure. Everyday uncountable amounts of things are distributed among the patients, without anybody keeping a register (daftar) on this.33
That sounds impressive but is largely copied from the description of a hospital in Cairo by the Moroccan traveller Khalid al-Balawi (d. after 1354).34 We learn from this case, that Badr al-Din was not that interested in the specific Istanbul hospital at his time, but wanted to render the idea of a hospital as such. Other descriptions in Arabic texts are certainly based on keener observation, but in general the authors paint a timeless image containing good and bad features, attractions and temptations, which are typical for an important metropolis like Istanbul.
1 Christian Arabic texts which do exist are not considered in this article. The authors of the Arabic texts which are considered are not only Arabs, but also Kurds, Berbers etc. For previous research on the topic see:
Al-Mahdi Id al-Rawadiya “al-Rihla ila al-Qustantiniyya”, al-Sharq wa al-Gharb mudawwanat al-rahhalat al-Arab wa al-Muslimin, Abhas Nadwat al-Rahhalat al-Arab wa al-Muslimin, Abu Dhabi: Dar Suwaidi li al-Nashr wa al-Tawzi, 2005, pp. 300-312; “16. Yüzyıldan 18. Yüzyıla dek Arap Seyahatnamelerinde Osmanlı İmparatorluğu ve İstanbul”, ed. Yavuz Köse, tr. Ayşe Dağlı, Istanbul: Kitap Yayınevi, 2011, pp. 93-105. Ralf Elger, Glaube, Skepsis, Poesie: Arabische Istanbul-Reisende im 16. und 17. Jahrhundert, Würzburg: Ergon Verlag in Kommission, 2011. Ralf Elger, Mustafa al-Bakri. Zur Selbstdarstellung eines syrischen Gelehrten, Sufis und Dichters des 18. Jahrhunderts, Hamburg: EB-Verlag, 2004. See especially pp. 184-191.
2 The travels of Ibn Battuta: A.D. 1325-1354, ed. H.A.R. Gibb, England-USA: Ashgate – The Hakluyt Society, 2010, vol. 2, p. 504.
3 The travels of Ibn Battuta, vol. 2, p. 506.
4 The travels of Ibn Battuta, vol. 2, p. 509.
5 Ali al-Tamgruti, al-Nafha al-miskiya fi al-sifarat al-Tourkiya: Relation d’une ambassade marocaine en Turquie 1589-1591, tr. Henry de Castries, Paris: P. Geuthner, 1929, p. 47.
6 The description of Istanbul is found on pp. 48-66 of this text.
7 Tamgruti, al-Nafha al-miskiya, p. 54.
8 Qutb al-Din al-Nahrawali, al-Fawa’id al-saniya fi al-rihla al-Madaniyya wa al-Rumiyya, tr. Richard Blackburn, in: Journey to the Sublime Porte. The Arabic Memoir of a Sharifian Agent’s Diplomatic Mission to the Ottoman Imperial Court in the Era of Suleyman the Magnificent, Beirut: Orient Institut, 2005.
9 Nahrawali, al-Fawa’id al-saniya, p. 182.
10 Badr al-Din al-Ghazzi, al-Matali‘ al-Badriyya fi al-Manazil al-Rumiyya, ed. Mahdi Id al-Rawadiya Beirut: al-Muassasa al-Arabiyya li al-Dirasat wa al-Nashr, 2004, p. 121. A partial translation gives Ekrem Kamil in: “Gazzi-Mekki Seyahatnamesi”, Tarih Semineri Dergisi, vol. 1, no 2 (1937), pp. 3-90.
11 Ghazzi, al-Matali‘ al-Badriyya, p. 134.
12 Ghazzi, al-Matali‘ al-Badriyya, p. 135.
13 Muhibb al-Din al-Hamawi, Bawadi al-Dumu al-Andaniyya bi Wadi al-Diyar al-Rumiyya, Ms. Damascus, Asad-Library, no. 8387.
14 Hamevî, Bevâdiu’l-dümûi’l-Andâniyye, fol. 29-39.
15 Hafiz al-Din al-Qudsi, Isfar al-Asfar wa al-İbkar al-Afkar, Ms. Staatsbibliothek Berlin, Ahlwardt-Katalog, no. 6134, folios 74-139, fol. 128a f.
16 Hafiz al-Din al-Qudsi, Isfar al-Asfar, fol. 130b.
17 Muhammad b. Abdullah Kibrît, Rihlat al-Shita wa al-Sayf, ed. Muhammad Saîd et-Tantâvî, Beirut: al-Maktabat al-Islami, 1965, p. 180.
18 Kibrît, Rihlat al-Shita wa al-Sayf, p. 180.
19 Shihab al-Din Ahmad b. Muhammad al-Khafadji, Rayhanat al-Alibba wa zahrat al-Hayat al-Dunya, ed. Abdülfettâh Muhammed el-Hulv, Cairo: Matbaat Isa al-Babi al-Halabi, 1967-1970, p. 273.
20 Hafâcî, Reyhânetü’l-elibbâ’, p. 278.
21 Ibrahim Abd al-Rahman al-Khiyari al-Madani, Tuhfat al-Udaba wa Salwat al-Ghuraba, ed. Raja Mahmud al-Samarrai, 3 vols, Baghdat: Wizarat al-Thaqafa wa al-‘Ilam, 1969-1980.
22 al-Khiyari al-Madani, Tuhfat al-Udaba, vol. 2, p. 8.
23 al-Khiyari al-Madani, Tuhfat al-Udaba, vol. 2, p. 12.
24 Mustafa al-Bakri, al-Maqamat al-Rawmiyya wa al-Maqamat al-Rumiyya, Ms. Yale, Nemoy Catalogue, no. 182, fol. 3b.
25 Mustafa al-Bakri, Nafhu nasaim al-Ashar bi fathi jasayim al-asmar, Ms. Budairiyya-Library, Jerusalem, no. 542, folios 34a-47b, fol. 39a.
26 Mustafa b. Muhammed al-Latifî al-Hamavi, Siyaha, Ms. Staatbibliothek Berlin, Ahlwardt-Catalogue, no. 6138.
27 Latifi, Siyaha, fol. 57b.
28 Taha aşl-Kurdi, Rihla, Ms. Dârülkütüb, Cairo, no. Jughrafiya 373, fol. 16a.
29 Muhammad b. Abd al-Wahhab al-Miknasi, Ihraz al-Mualla wa al-Rakib fi Hajj Bayt Allah al-Haram wa Ziyara al-Quds al-Sharif wa al-Khalil wa al-Tabarruk bi Qabr al-Habib, ed. Muhammed Bû Kebût, Ebûzabî: Dârü’s-Süveydî li’n-neşr ve’t-tevzî‘, 2003.
30 Miknasi, Ihraz al-Mualla, p. 105.
31 Abu al-Qasim al-Zayyani, al-Tarjuman al-Kubra fi akhbar al-Ma‘mur barran wa bahran, Muhammadiyya: Wizara al-Anba, 1967.
32 Abu al-Qasim al-Zayyani, al-Tarjuman al-Kubra, p. 99.
33 Ghazzî, al-Matali‘ al-Badriyya, 122 f.
34 Khalid b. Isa al-Balawi, Taj al-Mafriq fi Tahliyat Ulama al-Mashriq, ed. Hasan al-Saih,: Sunduq Ihya al-Turath al-Islami al-Mushtarak bayn al-Mamlakat al-Maghribiyya wa al-Imarat al-Arabiyya al-Muttahida, 1982, vol. I, p. 219.