Chapter One

The Layers of Proportional Naskh

In 936 C.E., the vizier Ibn Muqlah lost his hand to political enemies. The Abbasid vizier would later be celebrated as the father of Arabic calligraphy. Some accounts report that he tied a reed pen to the stump of his right hand; others say that he began to write with his left. Still, his enemies hounded him. Ibn Muqlah’s possessions were confiscated, his tongue was removed, and he died under house arrest, unaware of the recognition he would later receive. Ibn Muqlah is now remembered as the official who standardized Arabic script. He devised a proportional system for the geometric construction and measurement of Arabic letters. The new system laid the foundation for a lasting tradition of Arabic and Islamic calligraphy, and it continues to inform the design of Arabic fonts in our digital age. The import and strength of Ibn Muqlah’s proportional system—or at least the system attributed to him—are undeniable. Despite his political difficulties, the vizier left a lasting mark on the shape of Arabic script: “It was poured upon his hand, just as it was revealed to the bees how to make the cells of their honeycombs hexagonal.”1
Ibn Muqlah’s new system of writing, al-khatt al-mansub, was a technological and geometric breakthrough. It formalized naskh as a genre of proportionally identifiable styles, and it set the stage for a robust tradition of Arabic calligraphy. But the initial innovation was more prosaic than artistic. Al-khatt al-mansub produced formal stylistic variants, much akin to the collection of fonts that populates digital devices. Differences of proportional style, like choices of font, dress a text for an intended audience. Thus, the typeface used for the current book subtly conveys an air of academic austerity; it does not resemble the letters used in children’s books. The application of handwritten styles operates similarly. Differences of proportion, size, and appearance indicate the genre, audience, or function of a text. Visual traits signify the origin of a written message or the intellectual genealogy of its author. Specific styles of Arabic script marked political administrations, and new styles marked their successors. The proportional system of Ibn Muqlah—a system for which he lost his hand and ultimately died—formalized styles of naskh as communicative vehicles.

Styles of Arabic Script

In the tenth century, Ibn al-Nadim ambitiously cataloged “the books of all peoples, Arab and foreign, existing in the language of the Arabs, as well as of their scripts.”2 His Kitab al-Fihrist references thousands of texts—many of which have since been lost—listing authors, titles, genres, brief descriptions, and sometimes specific bibliographic information, such as the size or the number of pages. Ibn al-Nadim prefaces his grand bibliography with a discussion of scripts and notational systems. An introductory section presents at least sixteen different systems of writing. These include scripts used for Syriac, Persian, Hebrew, Greek, Chinese, and Russian. The Latin alphabet is mentioned as the script of the Lombards, Saxons, and Franks. The various scripts are differentiated according to the direction of writing, the form and types of characters, and the tools of inscription. Nadim discusses diverse methods of sharpening writing implements, compares the Arabic reed pen with the brushes of Chinese scribes, and weighs the affordances of various substrates: clay, papyrus, parchment, and paper. Although scripts are organized according to nation, emphasis falls on stylistic differences of design and use rather than language. Every writing system, or script, is a collection of subscripts, or styles, and unique styles are further specified according to appearance, function, and technology.
Ibn al-Nadim constructs a typology of stylistic variation. He lists well over twenty varieties of Arabic script; three forms of Syriac; seven styles of Persian; and at least three styles of Greek script. Greek scribes in Abbasid Baghdad, for example, employed one style for sacred scripture, another style for official correspondence, and a third style—a specialized shorthand reserved for “kings and the most eminent scribes”—for quick transcription.3 Ibn al-Nadim presents each of these stylistic differences as communicatively significant. Arabic script is presented with even greater, and more specific, variety. In one particularly detailed passage concerning styles of script, Ibn al-Nadim writes:
Among [the Arabic scripts] there is a style called Ashriyah, derived from the Sijillat al-Awsat handwriting. With it are written emancipations of slaves and sales of land and houses and other things. Among them is a style called the Mufattah, sprung from the Thaqil al-Nisf. The Mumsak style, with which they write on the half-size sheets, is derived from it. Three styles grow out of it: a style called the Mudawwar al-Kabir, which the scribes of this period call the Ri’asi and which is written on the half-size sheets; also derived from it is a style called the Mudawwar al-Saghir, a general-utility script with which are written records, traditions, and poems; and a style called Khafif al-Thuluth al-Kabir. It is written on the half-size sheets, being derived from Khafif al-Nisf al-Thaqil. From it there springs a style called the Riqa’, which is derived from Khafifal-Thuluth al-Kabir and with which are written signed edicts and similar things.4
To modern readers, the specificity is shocking. And for current purposes, the specific names are less important than the fact that the author takes time to list them. Ibn al-Nadim expects reader familiarity with the diverse implications of stylistic variation. Styles of script indicate particular uses and different genres of written messages. Styles are classified into families of common origin, they differentiate according to function, and they relate to particular sizes of paper. This detailed typology highlights the complex scribal milieu in which Ibn al-Nadim circulated. The style of Arabic script operated as a secondary code, alongside textual content. Through the choice of style, scribes could “connote professional or social attitudes beyond the mere content of his or her message.… The type and size of a script and its amount of diacritics become an important manifestation of the sender’s attitude towards the addressee.”5 Scribes write for different reasons, for different audiences, and with different tools. Reporting from within that milieu, Ibn al-Nadim sees no reason why they should therefore share a common style of script.
The contemporary parallel to Ibn al-Nadim’s multiple styles is the digital font. Although fonts partake of a common alphabet, they carry distinct histories, imply distinct meanings, and indicate distinct roles. If Ibn al-Nadim were to examine the textual possibilities of a modern computer, he would likely be fascinated by the sheer variety of fonts. A single machine can display any number of writing systems and scripts, from Arabic to Chinese to Hebrew to Armenian to Latin. Narrowing the focus to the Latin alphabet and written English, Ibn al-Nadim might first note the twenty-six letters of the alphabet. He would then discuss the directionality of the writing: a progression of characters that flow from left to right and lines that run from top to bottom. And he would comment on methods of input, for example, typing as the movement of the fingers across the keys and how this differs from handwriting with a pen. Ibn al-Nadim might be pleasantly surprised that the visual space of the screen does not limit the number of words or the scope of the text. He would reserve his greatest fascination, however, for the sheer number of fonts. Ibn al-Nadim would painstakingly list each font, including italic and bold varieties, alongside guidelines for their proper use: the serifs of Times New Roman are said to assist the reading of printed passages, Helvetica works well for titles and text at a distance, Verdana is primarily a screen font, Comic Sans detracts from the seriousness of a message, and so forth. Modern texts are written for a variety of purposes. And Ibn al-Nadim would see no reason why they should therefore share a common font.
Styles of script, like fonts, are material artifacts. They have shape, size, color, and texture. Differences in style, appearance, and form help readers navigate the written landscape. This is as true today as it was in the tenth century. Arabic scribal practices deliberately employed the communicative potential of material and aesthetic variation. For early Islamic writers, the primary example is the separation of Qur’anic copies from all other writings. If the Qur’an is ontologically different from other texts, then it should look, feel, and operate differently than other writings.6 The primary distinction separating sacred and secular content occurs time and again with Arabic script. Hieratic styles are repeatedly contrasted with secular styles of administrative decree and everyday communication. In the manuscript era, differences of pen, style, and form separated the two channels. The Arabic term for a Qur’anic copy, mushaf (plural: masahif), specifically references its codex form.7 The codex form distinguished Qur’anic masahif from other texts, which commonly were written on scrolls. Early masahif were further distinguished by both the scale and the shape of the letters. Qur’anic styles were larger than other styles, and the size of the text was emblematic of its status. During the era of print, the sacred-secular distinction became a technological one. Handwritten masahif distinguished the Qur’an from secular printed works. The Qur’an was not printed by an Islamic administration until the nineteenth century, four centuries after printing of the Bible and well over a century after Islamic authorities first deployed print for secular purposes. Visual and technological practices separating sacred and secular content continued well into the twentieth century. In 1938, Abdullah Yusuf Ali published what would become one of the most popular English translations of the Qur’anic text.8 Whereas the English translation is printed with movable type, the Arabic text reproduces the handwritten calligraphy of Pir Abdul Hamid with photolithography. The handwritten line distinguishes the Arabic copy as something unique and beautiful. And that uniqueness is doubly lost in translation: the translation from Arabic to English and the translation from handwritten style to movable type.
The visual distinction of Qur’anic styles from other varieties of writing was already common by Ibn al-Nadim’s time. The Fihrist dedicates an entire section to identifying and classifying styles of script suitable for copying the Qur’an.9 In the seventh century, when Umayyad caliph Abd al-Malik famously replaced iconographic imagery on Umayyad coins and monuments with religious and Arabic phrases, the distinction began to blur. Although Abd al-Malik’s script-only designs were visually novel, the move was initially criticized. Religious scholars frowned on the use of Arabic script on political currency.10 Muslims and non-Muslims alike could handle coins inscribed with Qur’anic phrases, which challenged the purity expected of religious text.11 By employing Arabic as a political marker, Abd al-Malik undercut the visual and stylistic distinction between sacred and secular authority. The implicit problem—how to differentiate sacred and secular content—was answered by a design solution: stylistic variety. Specific styles and formalized design templates insulated Qur’anic copies from secular texts. The basic stylistic distinction bifurcated Arabic script into two categories, Kufic and naskh. The former grouping displays solidity and formality; the latter displays more cursive fluidity. Although the two categories are overly generalized, their visual distinction signals a much deeper current of stylistic and visual variation.
The hieratic Kufic styles appear rigid, stately, and bold. They emphasize geometric structure and horizontal extension: “slow-moving and dignified, exacting in their application and requiring skill to read, they bore the connotation of eternity and visually defined Islam’s perception of the holy book.”12 The category name derives from the city of Kufa, which became famous for the early beauty and precision of its Qur’anic script. Ibn al-Nadim associates a number of early styles with the city or locale in which they were written.13 Pairing stylistic differences with the names of localities may also have allowed early Muslim readers to gauge the provenance of Qur’anic masahif with which they came into contact. Ibn al-Nadim specifically identifies the Makkah (Meccan) script through its alif (which bends slightly to the left).14 But the fame of Kufic script won out, and the name now labels a wide category of overtly geometric, decorative, and bold-shaped Arabic styles. The naskh styles, in contrast, display slimmer lines ...