A new study challenges conventional views of medieval Pisa’s role in the Mediterranean world, proposing that the Italian city may have formed a military and diplomatic alliance with the Muslim taifa of Denia in the early eleventh century.
Historian David Romney Smith, writing in Al-Masāq: Journal of the Medieval Mediterranean, reconstructs this possible alliance that historians have long overlooked, or that may have been deliberately forgotten.
The catalyst for this relationship, Smith argues, lies in the aftermath of the Sardinian War of 1015–1016. During that conflict, Pisa and Genoa fought against the Muslim ruler Mujāhid al-ʿĀmirī of Denia, who had attempted to invade Sardinia. His wife Jūd and their young son ʿAlī were captured and brought to Pisa. In a remarkable twist, ʿAlī was raised in the household of a Pisan nobleman, Ildeberto Albizo, for over a decade, effectively serving as both a hostage and a diplomatic bridge. Jūd, meanwhile, may have chosen to remain in Pisa, rather than return to Denia, suggesting personal or religious motivations that shaped the course of events.
Smith pieces together a fragmented but compelling narrative from Pisan chronicles, Arabic texts, and a 12th-century epic poem, the Liber Maiorichinus. Though the historical record is inconsistent and at times contradictory, Smith contends that this fosterage relationship opened the door to sustained, informal diplomacy between Pisa and Denia, likely mediated in part by the Banū Ḥammād dynasty of North Africa.
“The second reason for seeing the connection as a strategic pact between Pisa and Denia – and this is the circumstantial evidence – lies in the configuration of military actions across the eleventh century,” Smith writes. “Pisa’s eleventh-century history, in its own texts, consists of attacks launched on Muslims, to the extent that the city has been seen by historians as a vanguard of an ‘anti-Islamic struggle’ that culminated in the crusades. It is less often noted that, following the war with Mujāhid in 1015–1016, all Pisa’s attacks prior to the first crusade were against the Zīrid dynasty of Ifīqiya. There are grounds for suspecting, then, that far from leading a proto-crusade against ‘Saracens’, the Pisans were engaged in a running war versus a rival polity.”
The Taifa of Denia in 1037 – image by Tyk / Wikimedia Commons
Smith reinterprets the Pisan raids on Muslim-held cities not as part of a holy war but as calculated moves in a Mediterranean power struggle. Pisa’s military expeditions in 1034 (Annaba), 1063 (Palermo), and 1087 (Mahdia) were all directed at the Zirids—a Berber dynasty based in Tunisia and a dominant naval force in the central Mediterranean. According to Smith, the Zirids posed a greater threat to both Denia and Pisa than each did to the other. This shared enmity may have motivated their cooperation.
The 1034 raid on Annaba (then under Zirid control) is particularly revealing. While scarcely elaborated in Latin sources, it followed the return of ʿAlī to Denia in 1031, a diplomatic handover reportedly negotiated with the help of the Banū Ḥammād, longtime rivals of the Zirids. Smith suggests this may not have been coincidence, but rather the result of a trilateral understanding between Pisa, Denia, and the Ḥammādids.
Later attacks on Palermo and Mahdia continue this pattern. The 1063 raid on Palermo coincided with the city’s recent conquest by Zirid forces, and although the Pisans accomplished little militarily, the act may have been symbolically aligned with Denian interests. The 1087 assault on Mahdia, undertaken in conjunction with Genoa and Amalfi, was more successful. Though it stopped short of conquering the Zirid capital, it crippled its naval power. Pisan propaganda at the time portrayed the campaign as a defence of all Mediterranean trade, including that of Muslims and “the peoples of Spain”—a phrase that likely included Denia.
Early 15th-century depiction of Pisa – Wikimedia Commons
The article also highlights the cultural and personal dimensions of this alliance. ʿAlī was not simply held in Pisa, but may have been baptized, possibly sponsored by Ildeberto Albizo, and developed lasting ties with the Albizo family. Even after returning to Denia and converting (or reconverting) to Islam under his father’s urging, ʿAlī maintained correspondence with his former foster family.
A key piece of evidence is the Liber Maiorichinus, an epic poem about the Pisan attack on Mallorca in 1114–1115. The ruler of the Balearic Islands, emir Mubashshir Nas.r al- Dawla, is reported here to have reached out to Pietro, head of the Albizo family, reminding of him of the friendship their families had dating back to the times of Pietro’s father and grandfather. The poem even includes the emir as referring to himself as a “brother of the [Albizo] line.”
The Pisa–Denia alliance was likely forgotten, perhaps even deliberately erased, as Pisa reshaped its identity in the twelfth century. With the rise of crusading ideals, chroniclers favoured narratives of Christian heroism over cooperation with Muslims. As Smith notes, the city may have lacked both the political will and the cultural framework to remember peaceful engagement with the Islamic world.
Smith is careful to label his reconstruction as speculative. Many pieces of the puzzle are drawn from sources written well after the events occurred, and often filtered through political or literary agendas. But he argues that responsible speculation can have historiographical value:
Speculation can be an essential tool for the historian, if only to disrupt the complacency of an established narrative, in this case medieval Pisa’s self-portrait as the hero of an “anti-Saracen” campaign. Offering an alternative narrative, as this article does, may encourage new avenues of research that will demonstrate the weakness of long- established assumptions. Conversely, by subjecting its foundations to scrutiny, an established historical narrative may emerge strengthened and more convincing than before. For the historian, either outcome is a step forward.
The implications of this “shadow diplomacy” extend beyond the story of Pisa and Denia. Smith’s article calls for a rethinking of Mediterranean politics before the Crusades, highlighting the permeability of religious and cultural boundaries. Rather than operating in a binary world of Christian versus Muslim, cities like Pisa navigated a complex web of alliances, rivalries, and shared interests. The story of ʿAlī, fostered in Pisa and later ruling a Muslim taifa, exemplifies the ways in which personal relationships could shape geopolitics.
The article, “Shadow Diplomacy: Pisa, Denia, and a Lost Muslim-Christian Alliance in the Eleventh-Century Mediterranean,” by David Romney Smith, appears in Al-Masāq: Journal of the Medieval Mediterranean. Click here to read it.
David Romney Smith is a Research Fellow at Australian National University, where his work focuses on the medieval Mediterranean. You can also follow him on Instagram, where he shares his artwork.
A new study challenges conventional views of medieval Pisa’s role in the Mediterranean world, proposing that the Italian city may have formed a military and diplomatic alliance with the Muslim taifa of Denia in the early eleventh century.
Historian David Romney Smith, writing in Al-Masāq: Journal of the Medieval Mediterranean, reconstructs this possible alliance that historians have long overlooked, or that may have been deliberately forgotten.
The catalyst for this relationship, Smith argues, lies in the aftermath of the Sardinian War of 1015–1016. During that conflict, Pisa and Genoa fought against the Muslim ruler Mujāhid al-ʿĀmirī of Denia, who had attempted to invade Sardinia. His wife Jūd and their young son ʿAlī were captured and brought to Pisa. In a remarkable twist, ʿAlī was raised in the household of a Pisan nobleman, Ildeberto Albizo, for over a decade, effectively serving as both a hostage and a diplomatic bridge. Jūd, meanwhile, may have chosen to remain in Pisa, rather than return to Denia, suggesting personal or religious motivations that shaped the course of events.
Smith pieces together a fragmented but compelling narrative from Pisan chronicles, Arabic texts, and a 12th-century epic poem, the Liber Maiorichinus. Though the historical record is inconsistent and at times contradictory, Smith contends that this fosterage relationship opened the door to sustained, informal diplomacy between Pisa and Denia, likely mediated in part by the Banū Ḥammād dynasty of North Africa.
“The second reason for seeing the connection as a strategic pact between Pisa and Denia – and this is the circumstantial evidence – lies in the configuration of military actions across the eleventh century,” Smith writes. “Pisa’s eleventh-century history, in its own texts, consists of attacks launched on Muslims, to the extent that the city has been seen by historians as a vanguard of an ‘anti-Islamic struggle’ that culminated in the crusades. It is less often noted that, following the war with Mujāhid in 1015–1016, all Pisa’s attacks prior to the first crusade were against the Zīrid dynasty of Ifīqiya. There are grounds for suspecting, then, that far from leading a proto-crusade against ‘Saracens’, the Pisans were engaged in a running war versus a rival polity.”
Smith reinterprets the Pisan raids on Muslim-held cities not as part of a holy war but as calculated moves in a Mediterranean power struggle. Pisa’s military expeditions in 1034 (Annaba), 1063 (Palermo), and 1087 (Mahdia) were all directed at the Zirids—a Berber dynasty based in Tunisia and a dominant naval force in the central Mediterranean. According to Smith, the Zirids posed a greater threat to both Denia and Pisa than each did to the other. This shared enmity may have motivated their cooperation.
The 1034 raid on Annaba (then under Zirid control) is particularly revealing. While scarcely elaborated in Latin sources, it followed the return of ʿAlī to Denia in 1031, a diplomatic handover reportedly negotiated with the help of the Banū Ḥammād, longtime rivals of the Zirids. Smith suggests this may not have been coincidence, but rather the result of a trilateral understanding between Pisa, Denia, and the Ḥammādids.
Later attacks on Palermo and Mahdia continue this pattern. The 1063 raid on Palermo coincided with the city’s recent conquest by Zirid forces, and although the Pisans accomplished little militarily, the act may have been symbolically aligned with Denian interests. The 1087 assault on Mahdia, undertaken in conjunction with Genoa and Amalfi, was more successful. Though it stopped short of conquering the Zirid capital, it crippled its naval power. Pisan propaganda at the time portrayed the campaign as a defence of all Mediterranean trade, including that of Muslims and “the peoples of Spain”—a phrase that likely included Denia.
The article also highlights the cultural and personal dimensions of this alliance. ʿAlī was not simply held in Pisa, but may have been baptized, possibly sponsored by Ildeberto Albizo, and developed lasting ties with the Albizo family. Even after returning to Denia and converting (or reconverting) to Islam under his father’s urging, ʿAlī maintained correspondence with his former foster family.
A key piece of evidence is the Liber Maiorichinus, an epic poem about the Pisan attack on Mallorca in 1114–1115. The ruler of the Balearic Islands, emir Mubashshir Nas.r al- Dawla, is reported here to have reached out to Pietro, head of the Albizo family, reminding of him of the friendship their families had dating back to the times of Pietro’s father and grandfather. The poem even includes the emir as referring to himself as a “brother of the [Albizo] line.”
The Pisa–Denia alliance was likely forgotten, perhaps even deliberately erased, as Pisa reshaped its identity in the twelfth century. With the rise of crusading ideals, chroniclers favoured narratives of Christian heroism over cooperation with Muslims. As Smith notes, the city may have lacked both the political will and the cultural framework to remember peaceful engagement with the Islamic world.
Smith is careful to label his reconstruction as speculative. Many pieces of the puzzle are drawn from sources written well after the events occurred, and often filtered through political or literary agendas. But he argues that responsible speculation can have historiographical value:
Speculation can be an essential tool for the historian, if only to disrupt the complacency of an established narrative, in this case medieval Pisa’s self-portrait as the hero of an “anti-Saracen” campaign. Offering an alternative narrative, as this article does, may encourage new avenues of research that will demonstrate the weakness of long- established assumptions. Conversely, by subjecting its foundations to scrutiny, an established historical narrative may emerge strengthened and more convincing than before. For the historian, either outcome is a step forward.
The implications of this “shadow diplomacy” extend beyond the story of Pisa and Denia. Smith’s article calls for a rethinking of Mediterranean politics before the Crusades, highlighting the permeability of religious and cultural boundaries. Rather than operating in a binary world of Christian versus Muslim, cities like Pisa navigated a complex web of alliances, rivalries, and shared interests. The story of ʿAlī, fostered in Pisa and later ruling a Muslim taifa, exemplifies the ways in which personal relationships could shape geopolitics.
The article, “Shadow Diplomacy: Pisa, Denia, and a Lost Muslim-Christian Alliance in the Eleventh-Century Mediterranean,” by David Romney Smith, appears in Al-Masāq: Journal of the Medieval Mediterranean. Click here to read it.
David Romney Smith is a Research Fellow at Australian National University, where his work focuses on the medieval Mediterranean. You can also follow him on Instagram, where he shares his artwork.
Top Image: Detail of the Western Mediterranean in a 15th-century map – British Library Additional MS 15760, ff.72v-73r
Subscribe to Medievalverse
Related Posts