In contrast with their northeast frontier, where substantial gains were made after the cessation of civil war in 692, the Arabs made little headway in the southeast, and indeed suffered a series of setbacks.12 The ruler of Zabulistan, in modern central Afghanistan, who bore the title of Rutbil, was killed in the course of an Arab raid in 690, and his successor quickly offered his submission and one million dirhams in tribute. However, the governor of Sistan refused, reckoning that he could extort an even greater sum and humiliate the people of this truculent region. He proceeded up the Helmand River, leading his men ever deeper into the mountainous lands beyond. The new Rutbil allowed him to advance and then, on a particularly tortuous path, he made a surprise attack, taking out many of his men and obliging him to retreat. The governor had to accept the paltry sum of 300,000 dirhams in tribute and the harm done to the Arabs’ reputation ensured his swift dismissal from his post.
The next person to have a go at subduing this recalcitrant frontier was 'Ubaydallah ibn Abi Bakra, son of a slave freed by the prophet Muhammad, who had already served as governor of Sistan once before, in the years 67I-73. He was sent by Hajjaj ibn Yusuf in the spring of 697 with the instruction: “go out against the Rutbil with your force of Muslims and do not return until you have laid waste his land, destroyed his strongholds, killed his warriors and enslaved his people.” With a combined force of Basran and
Kufan troops 'Ubaydallah marched into Zabulistan, seizing livestock and reducing forts as he went. However, lured on by hopes of booty and glory he entered far into enemy territory and found himself without sufficient provisions for his army or their horses. He had repeated the mistake of his predecessor and, like him, was obliged to sue for peace on unfavorable terms. His second-in-command refused to accept the humiliation of begging before infidels and fought on, losing his life and many of his men in the process. Once a peace had been agreed and hostages left behind, 'Ubaydallah was permitted to leave with his men, but many had perished of hunger and cold and it was a bedraggled bunch, labeled by contemporaries “the army of perdition” (jaysh al-fana’), that returned to their base. 'Ubaydallah died soon afterward, in 698, chagrined by his failure.
Hajjaj decided that a show of strength was needed to restore Arab prestige and to warn the obdurate Rutbil that such impudence would no longer be tolerated. For this mission he picked a man from one of the great Arab noble families, a descendant of the kings of Kinda, 'Abd al-Rahman ibn al-Ash'ath. To him was assigned an army of 20,000 men from Basra and Kufa, many from influential clans, and all were paid in advance and equipped with the best horses and weaponry, attracting the label of “the peacock army” (jaysh al-tawawis) from observers. Ibn al-Ash'ath arrived with his army in Sistan in early 699 and at his first Friday prayer session he called for support from local Arab warriors against “those enemies of yours who have been devastating your land and raiding your precious possessions.” Many joined him and at this point the Rutbil, alarmed at this massing of troops, offered to pay tribute at the old rate and to return the hostages left with him by 'Ubaydallah ibn Abi Bakra. But Ibn al-Ash'ath's orders were to punish and not to conciliate, and so he refused the offer and began his march eastward. Rather than risk getting marooned in enemy country like his predecessors, he established a base at Bust, where the Helmand and Arghandab Rivers meet, and built watchtowers, stationed troops at strategic locations, and appointed agents to collect taxes and deliver messages. He sent his brother up the Arghandab River, into Arrukhaj, but found that the Rutbil had withdrawn and left none behind bar the elderly and a few Arab corpses.
Satisfied with his progress for that year, Ibn al-Ash'ath informed Hajjaj that he intended to suspend his advance for the time being. Furious at what he perceived as cowardice and vacillation, Hajjaj fired off three letters ordering Ibn al-Ash'ath to recommence his campaign against the Rutbil or else be demoted to the rank of a simple soldier. Stung by such abuse, Ibn al-Ash'ath roused his troops to revolt, playing on that ancient grievance of soldiers: being sent to serve on remote frontiers for long periods. “If you obey Hajjaj’s orders,” he urged, “he will condemn you to stay in this country perpetually, and will keep you quartered here just as Pharaoh kept his armies in distant garrisons, and you will never see your loved ones again before most of you have been killed.” He made peace with the Rutbil on the condition that he be given asylum if his revolt failed and then marched westward with the majority of his troops and a number of men from Sistan to confront Hajjaj in Iraq. As he passed through Kirman and Fars, many more joined him and coins struck in his name for the year 701 show that the aim was no longer just to chastise Hajjaj for his intransigent stance but to overturn Umayyad rule. He fought and lost a series of battles in Iraq before returning to take up the promise of the Rutbil to give him shelter. Hajjaj sent a powerful army in his pursuit and finally, in 704, Ibn al-Ash'ath killed himself rather than surrender to his archenemy. The Arabs reestablished their authority in Zarang and Bust, but this was the eastward limit of their territorial expansion.
After Ibn al-Ash'ath’s revolt, the Arabs mostly left this region alone and the various local potentates enjoyed a high degree of autonomy. Muslim sources say that the Rutbil refused to pay tribute to any of the tax agents of the Umayyads, and Chinese annals report that in 710 and 724 he sent an emissary to the Chinese court and received in return a confirmation of his kingship from the emperor himself as well as a gift of silk. Probably the same Rutbil is responsible for the erection of a Buddhist stupa in 714, which is commemorated in a recently discovered inscription that refers to the “lord of Ghazni,” the capital of Zabulistan, lying to the southwest of Kabul. From 700 to 738 the ruler of Kapisa, northeast of Kabul, struck his own coins on which he inscribed the title “king of Khurasan” or, even more boldly, “king of the East.” His son went further, portraying himself as “Caesar, noble lord, who smote the Arabs,” using the local Bactrian language to signal his cultural allegiance. The Korean monk Huichao confirms this pugnacious spirit, commenting that Kapisa, Zabulistan, and Bamiyan harbored many Buddhist monasteries and monks and that their kings were strong and independent. Of the king of Bamiyan, famous for its twin standing Buddhas that were recently destroyed by the Taliban, he goes as far as to say that “his cavalry is so strong and numerous that other countries do not dare invade this land” (Figure 5.4). Thus matters stood until the coming of Persian dynasties like the Saffarids (861—1003) and Turkish dynasties like the Ghaznavids (975—1187), which furthered the eastward spread of Islam.13