The Portuguese rediscovering their country’s Muslim past

After fleeing Iraq’s war, Mustafa Abdulsattar, 33, risked his life on a perilous journey by boat from Turkey to Greece. Upon reaching Greece, he was offered resettlement in Portugal—a country he knew little about but soon found some familiar aspects, like shared words from Arabic, including “oxala,” derived from “inshallah,” meaning “God willing.”

Arabic influences on Portuguese are no surprise, as Muslims ruled parts of the region for centuries. The arrival of Muslim forces from North Africa in the 8th century marked the start of the al-Andalus period, during which Portugal and Spain thrived under Islamic governance. This chapter of history is often overshadowed by narratives of the Christian “reconquest,” emphasized in Portuguese textbooks. The rich cultural legacy of coexistence between Muslims, Christians, and Jews is less widely taught.

Professor Filomena Barros from the University of Evora highlights that Muslims were not seen as foreigners by locals, just as earlier conquests by Romans and Visigoths are not portrayed as foreign occupations. By the 10th century, research suggests half of the Iberian population was Muslim.

However, today, Portugal’s population is less than 0.5% Muslim. According to Noor-ayn Sacoor, a Lisbon-based member of the Muslim community, school curricula overlook the long history of cultural and religious coexistence. Sacoor wishes there was more recognition of the contributions Muslims made to the region’s prosperity, especially in arts, sciences, and culture.

Portuguese identity continues to be shaped by literary works like “The Lusiads” by 16th-century poet Luis Vaz de Camoes. His poem, a nationalist epic, celebrates Portuguese imperial expansion and depicts Muslims as treacherous foes. Historian Barros explains that this narrative was part of constructing European identity against Muslims during a time when the Ottoman Empire posed a perceived threat. Although Portugal expanded into North Africa, a decisive defeat at Ksar el-Kebir in 1578 ended these ambitions.

Nationalist versions of history portray Muslims as invaders, reducing their complex identity to a mere stereotype of “the other.” Yet, the reality of centuries of peaceful coexistence between Muslims, Christians, and Jews challenges this view. Though Portugal formally expelled its Muslim and Jewish populations in the 15th century, historians argue that the contribution of these communities to Portuguese culture remains deeply embedded.

In recent years, Portugal has apologized for the expulsion of Jews and offered descendants citizenship rights. However, Muslims have not received the same acknowledgment. Political arguments suggest the Muslim expulsion was more about territorial conflict than religious intolerance.

The legacy of Portugal’s Muslim past is being uncovered, most notably by scholars like Adalberto Alves, who documented the influence of Arabic on the Portuguese language and culture. His dictionary of over 19,000 Arabic-origin words highlights the extent of Muslim contributions to Portuguese heritage. Similarly, archaeological digs in Mertola have revealed a past where Jews, Muslims, and Christians lived in peaceful coexistence, challenging modern nationalist views.

Claudio Torres, an archaeologist who unearthed Islamic ceramics in Mertola, asserts that the Mediterranean once connected rather than divided the cultures on its shores. While nationalist rhetoric may emphasize divisions, the shared heritage across the region tells a story of unity. According to Susana Martinez, this shared past can help deconstruct modern stereotypes and prejudices by reminding us of the continuities in Mediterranean history.