Vladimir Bartol - Alamut

“Calm down, ibn Tahir. Nearly all of mankind suffers from just this sort of ignorance.”

“How could it not? When they’re abused by the people they trust most?! Oh, how I believed in you! I would sooner have believed anything about you, whom half of Islam called a prophet, than that you were an impostor and a fraud. That you intentionally deceived your loyal subjects. That you abused their faith to accomplish your criminal goals.”

“Do you have any other wishes?”

“Damn you!”

Hasan smiled.

“Words like that don’t worry me very much.”

Ibn Tahir’s energy flagged. He managed to calm down.

“There’s something I want to ask you before you kill me.”

“Go ahead.”

“How were you able to come up with such a dirty scheme for us, when we’d pledged ourselves to you body and soul?”

“Do you want to hear a serious answer?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Then listen… and I’ll grant you your last wish… I’ve always told my followers that my background is Arab. My enemies have tried to prove that it isn’t. And they’re right. I had to do this, because you Iranians are ashamed of your heritage. Because you think that anyone who comes from the lands of the Prophet is nobler, even if it’s the most abject beggar. Because you’ve forgotten that you’re the descendants of Rustam and Suhrab, of Manuchehr and Feridun, that you’re the heirs to the glory of the kings of Iran, the Khosrows, the Farhads and the Parthian princes. You’ve forgotten that your language, that beautiful Pahlavi, is the language of Firdausi, Ansari and countless other poets. First you adopted your faith and spiritual leadership from the Arabs. And now you’ve submitted to the Turks, these horse thieves from Turkestan! For half a century you, the proud sons of Zarathustra, have let these Seljuk dogs rule you! When I was young, the grand vizier, whom you killed, Omar Khayyam and I pledged that we would do everything in our power to overthrow the Seljuk usurpers. We agreed that we would try to advance ourselves as much as possible, in order to maximize our influence, and that we would help each other along the way. I sought my weapon among the Shia, who were opposed to Baghdad and consequently the Seljuks as well. The vizier entered the Seljuks’ service. At first I thought that was the means he had chosen to fulfill our pledge. But lo and behold, when I called him to account, he laughed at me and was surprised I was still clinging to those ‘childish games.’ He obliged me only by finding me a position at the court. But soon he would see that I had remained faithful to our old pledge. He plotted against me and had me banished from the court. But when he saw that my influence was growing, he decided to destroy me. He put a reward of ten thousand gold pieces on my head! And that was the end of our youthful dream. The vizier was sitting at the trough, toadying up to foreigners. Omar was drinking wine, making love to women, bemoaning our lost freedom, and making fun of the whole world. I was persistent. But that experience and others opened my eyes once and for all. I realized that the people are slothful and lax, and that it’s not worth it to sacrifice yourself for them. I had tried to exhort and rouse them to no avail. Do you think the overwhelming majority of people care about the truth? Far from it! They want to be left alone, and they want fairy tales to feed their hungry imaginations. But what about justice? They couldn’t care less, as long as you meet their personal needs. I didn’t want to fool myself anymore. If this is what humankind is like, then exploit its weaknesses to achieve your higher goals, which will benefit them too, even though they don’t understand that. I appealed to the stupidity and gullibility of people. To their passion for pleasure, their selfish desires. The doors were wide open to me now. I became the people’s prophet, the one you came to know. The masses are assembled behind me now. All my bridges have been burned down. I have to move forward. Forward, until the Seljuk empire collapses. Don’t you see? Am I not making sense?… Or am I?”

Ibn Tahir listened to him wide-eyed. He would have expected anything, except for Hasan to defend himself, and like this!

“You said that the faith of you fedayeen was firm. Hardly! I have lived all of my sixty years in perpetual mortal danger. And if I could have known that my death would liberate the glorious throne of Iran from foreign despots, I would have thrown myself into it without any expectation of some heavenly reward! Back then, at least. I looked around and realized that if I deposed one of them, another would replace him. Because there wouldn’t have been anyone who would know how to make use of my death. So I had to look for others who would be willing to take aim at those highly placed heads. Nobody would have agreed to go voluntarily, because nobody was so acutely aware of his calling, or so proud that he could sacrifice himself for a cause. I had to find other means. Those means… those means were the artificial paradise beyond the castle, the gardens of the kings of Daylam, as you’ve so accurately said already. Where does deception begin and where does truth end in life? It’s hard to say. You’re still too young to understand. But if you were my age! Then you’d understand that the paradise a person sees as paradise really is paradise for him. And that his pleasures there are real pleasures. If you hadn’t seen through it, you would have died happy in that knowledge, just as Suleiman and Yusuf did… Am I making some sense now?”

Ibn Tahir shook his head in amazement.

“I think I’m beginning to understand, and it’s terrible.”

“Do you know what al-Araf is?”

“I do, Sayyiduna. It’s the wall that separates paradise and hell.”

“Correct. It’s said that that wall is the destination of those who have fought for a higher purpose against the will of their parents, and fallen with sword in hand. They can’t go to paradise, and they don’t deserve hell. It’s their lot to look in both directions. To know! Yes, al-Araf is a symbol for those who have their eyes open and who have the courage to act in accordance with their knowledge. Look. When you believed, you were in heaven. Now that you’ve come to see and deny, you’ve descended into hell. But on Araf there’s no place for either joy or disillusionment. Al-Araf is the balance of good and evil, and the path that leads to it is long and steep. Few have the opportunity to see it. Even fewer dare to tread it, because you’re alone on Araf. It’s what separates you from other people. To endure up here, you have to steel your heart. Do I make sense now?”

Ibn Tahir moaned.

“It’s horrible.”

“What strikes you as so horrible?”

“That the realization comes so late. This should have been the beginning of my life.”

Hasan took him in with a rapid glance. His face brightened. But there was still a quaver of distrust in his voice when he asked him, “What would you do if your life started now?”

“First I’d want to learn everything that the greatest minds have discovered. I’d study all the sciences, delve into all the secrets of nature and the universe. I’d attend all the most famous schools in the world, explore all the libraries…”

Hasan smiled.

“What about love? Have you forgotten about that?”

Ibn Tahir’s face darkened.

“I’d avoid that evil. Women are shameless.”

“Come now, where did you learn that profound truth?”

“You should know…”

“Is that aimed at Miriam? Then you should know that she pleaded for you. For all of you! She’s gone now. She slit her wrists and bled to death.”

Ibn Tahir fell back onto the floor. His heart ached bitterly. Yes, he was still in love with her.