Bensalem Himmich - The Theocrat

What was foremost in their minds was the memory of the accursed fire that al-Hakim the Fatimid had unleashed against them all. With that thought burning inside, none of them had any trouble at all appreciating what Abu Rakwa was referring to. Their expressions showed clearly enough that they both understood and accepted what he was saying. Abu Rakwa seized the opportunity to add, “Noble Arabs! Are you happy to see al-Hakim dispatching his devotees into Egypt and Syria to disseminate slanderous and demeaning images of you to people far and wide? They claim that you are all tyrants and rapists, the very dregs of the Arabs, people who earn a living by raiding caravans on the pilgrimage route to Mecca; that you shed the blood of women and children; and that no sooner do you settle anywhere than you destroy everything, greenery and shrubs, and start spreading apostasy and destruction. They keep repeating these calumnies and worse. How much longer are you going to allow yourselves to be despised like this and to go on living in this terrible environment with such a reputation? How much longer are you going to waste your time fighting stupid and unjust wars against people who are just as weak as you are? Do you really want to let this desert keep on piling its life of poverty and suffering on top of your heads? By Him who has the power and the authority, I shall return to my own haunts if you do not change your ways and seek to achieve in this world the justice, glory, and divine unity that God has promised.”

Abu Rakwa’s words struck at the very souls of his listeners; his import hit its target cold and clear. Words of admiration and blessing filled the air. In an atmosphere charged with awe and outbursts of hope and promise, the shaykh of the Banu Qurra quickly gave his support to what Abu Rakwa had said, anxious as he was to make him feel part of the community, saying, “Tribesmen, what our distinguished guest has just told us is absolutely true! It is a sign of sheer cowardice and malice for weak people to keep attacking others who are just as weak as they are; any victory gained by one weak tribe over another is vain stupidity. From today there will be no more wars against our indigent peer tribes; instead we’ll concentrate our attention on what really matters. Most important of all is for us to demonstrate to mankind that we are Arabs with pride and dignity. It is no part of our nature to commit obscenities, be they overt or covert, nor to condone illegalities such as highway robbery on pilgrims to God’s house or shedding the blood of minors and innocents. No! Our most important task now is to join with our peers in cutting off all types of tyranny and injustice and to carry the fight to the core of Fatimid rule. Then we will pull out evil by its roots, and, in so doing, earn the bounty of this world and the reward of the next. Praise be to God who has sent the sage guide and imam. Abu Rakwa, to us at this particular moment.”

Barely had Shaykh Abu al-Mahasin finished speaking before the young man, Shihab al-Din ibn Mundhir stood up again and spoke, “Abu Rakwa, for us it will be the greatest of good fortune to support you and march behind you. Today you are our only guide, while we are your only source of power. However, before we make a pact with you and give you our pledges as imam, answer us this question in God’s name. Don’t you think you are rushing things and moving ahead too quickly? For the peace you advocate, you are relying on our hands alone, without consulting the views of those who have been our foes.”

Abu Rakwa responded to this sound objection in a calm, confident voice, “God honor you! Don’t you realize that before I came to stay with you, I spent some time with the Zanata tribe? While I was there, I taught their children and listened to their complaints about the rule of those renegade Fatimids. I could see for myself how much they have suffered under the fierce tyranny of al-Hakim. On more than one occasion their leaders and sages spoke to me about their feelings toward you. I was thus able to confirm their view that the ongoing wars against you were a futile waste of time and effort, something they only did with the utmost reluctance and with hearts full of sorrow and bitterness. So, may God support you with His light, you should all know for sure that, if you were to opt for peace at a mere stroll, they would join you at the run; if you asked for a limited truce, they would seek a permanent one. So don’t be so certain that your very determination is fruitless, nor so supercilious that your gain comes too easily. You Arabs of the Banu Qurra, if you really want an irrevocable peace with the Zanata tribe and others who share with you an adherence to the true religion of Islam, then as of tomorrow I am prepared to serve as a messenger to lay the groundwork for a truce and to work out specific terms and objectives. If on the other hand you are scared of possible outcomes, then you will have to let me sally forth deep into the desert where I can let the sands pile high above me.”

The shaykh of the tribe and Shihab al-Din exchanged glances of agreement and support. They both went over to Abu Rakwa and embraced him warmly. Voices of acceptance, support, and welcome were raised, amplified by the ululations of womenfolk and yells from children. All this constituted a unanimous call for an irrevocable truce between the tribes and a preparation for acknowledging Abu Rakwa as imam. All this coincided with the muezzin’s call for noontime prayers. Everyone hurried to line up in rows behind their illustrious guest. They invited him to lead the prayer, and after some insistence on their part, they got their wish. The prayer that they all performed was marked by an aura of devotion and humility that they had never experienced before. They had hardly finished, greeted one another, and embraced before a group of them made preparations to slaughter a female camel in honor of Abu Rakwa and as a way of hallowing his felicitous advent. However, Abu Rakwa himself stopped them. He told them they should hold off doing that till the day when a real truce was signed between themselves and the neighboring tribes. Once he had convinced them, he made do with a piece of bread, a handful of dates, and a glass of fresh milk (all of which constituted his regular daily meal). When he had finished, he praised God and excused himself. He went to his tent and stayed there for a few hours, praying and performing extra devotions, reading the Qur’an, and writing out accounts of the Prophet’s life for meditation.

Toward day’s end the sunset was creating amazing light patterns that attracted Abu Rakwa’s attention. He sat there watching them through the tent flap and made use of them to forge one insight after another till night fell over the desert. Everyone, young and old, felt a special sense of involvement, an absorbing kind of release. This night seemed to them to be different from others, yet more serene than the doves of Mecca, and steeped in the sweet aroma of paradise itself. The heavens were studded with pearly stars; how close they looked and how sympathetic to human beings! The radiant full moon lavished on people’s hearts the fondest of hopes and premonitions! The very desert winds seemed to have agreed upon a truce and enveloped the assembly in a breeze that was soft, gentle and joyous. The tribesmen all gathered around the tent of their imam, forming circle upon circle. There were circles for children who frolicked and played games, each one of them more lively than a moon-struck gazelle. There were also circles for womenfolk who kept laughing and chanting their favorite songs. The men, middle- and old-aged, took turns in filling the air with sound, sometimes religious chants and at others songs of chivalry and defiance accompanied by dancing.

Everyone took part in the celebration for as long as their enthusiasm and energy allowed, and things continued well into the night. Activities only began to flag somewhat when the men noticed that Abu Rakwa and his horse were nowhere to be found in the encampment. Soon afterwards Shihab al-Din ibn Mundhir appeared with a document signed by the absent imam. It said the following: “My beloved ones, I did not wish to take formal leave of you since that would have interrupted your fun and celebrations. I am going to see my Lord to ask His help and counsel. I will be away no longer than my longing to see you again can tolerate and than my desire to see peace between you and your enemies demands. To God alone belongs success, and He is a good trustee.” As soon as this note had been read, the celebrations came to an end, and everyone returned to their own shelter to sleep or wait. A total quiet fell over the encampment, only broken by the barking of dogs and the pacing of guards.