Bensalem Himmich - The Theocrat

‘Ali ibn Jawhar responded immediately, as though he had had the reply ready for some time. “To be quite blunt,” he said. “I don’t believe besieging Cairo will work to our advantage, Al-Hakim is protected by loyal servants and has nothing to fear from his unarmed and debilitated populace. His coffers and granaries hold enough food and goods to last for a few years. If we conduct a prolonged siege, the primary danger for us will come from Syria. Al-Hakim is offering rewards and incentives to foreign troops. Turks, savage Bedouin, and even Byzantine mercenaries. That likelihood is confirmed by all the information that I’ve been getting from our trustworthy allies. We may have defeated and scattered al-Hakim’s army in Upper Egypt, but they are now regrouping in the desert by al-Fayyum under the command of al-Fadl ibn Salih, and he’s renowned for his strategic skills and cunning. The incredible number of reinforcements arriving daily from Syria is making this army steadily stronger. Beyond all that, we face yet another danger if we start a long siege: our own ranks will be infiltrated by informers and spies, not to mention people who will spread false rumors, discord, and dissent. That’s my opinion, and God knows best of all. It is you who have the authority to decide.”

‘Ali ibn Jawhar had barely finished speaking before a din was heard outside. Abu Rakwa asked what was going on. Suddenly a group of men approached, surrounding a man who was dressed exactly like them. They told Abu Rakwa this man was a spy, and he had been caught red-handed. On him they had found documents and purses full of coins and gold pieces. Shihab al-Din seized the documents and purses. Abu Rakwa meanwhile told the soldiers to return to their positions, then ordered the spy to state his own name and mission, and that of the person who had sent him. For a moment the spy stood his ground, not saying a word. But then Hammu threatened him with his sword.

“I am one of Hamad al-Madi’s men,” the man replied. “I’ve been working for al-Fadl ibn Salih for some time. Al-Madi ordered me to infiltrate your army and pass on information. I’ve managed to do that and have recorded everything I’ve seen in these documents. The purses are intended to bribe your soldiers, persuade them to betray you and join al-Hakim’s army in the al-Fayyum desert. That’s all I can tell you about my mission. Now do with me what you will.”

“So you’re just like that cursed wretch, Hamad al-Madi!” said Hammu in a tone that blended malice and insult. “You’re from the Banu Qurra, aren’t you?”

“You’re wrong,” the man replied. “I’m a Syrian Bedouin. I’ve taken part in many wars by disguising myself and trading information. If you are interested, my name is …”

“We’re not interested in your name,” interrupted Abu Rakwa, “just tell us everything you know about al-Hakim’s army. If you do, we’ll spare your life. If what you tell us is useful, we’ll set you free. If you can identify spies and traitors working among us, we’ll give you back your purses before you leave.”

“Imam, you can have all the information you and your colleagues want. Al-Fadl’s army has close to ten thousand soldiers: the numbers keep increasing, as does the ordinance to back them up. The strategists have all agreed that time is on their side and they can afford to let you languish outside Cairo’s gates, while you dream of launching an assault and discuss methods of mounting a siege. It’s their view that every day that passes enhances their position while yours gets progressively weaker as you wait and lose hope. They’re planning to send out spies to infiltrate your ranks and persuade your soldiers either to desert and join al-Hakim’s army or go back the way they came. In addition to finding out as much information about your troops as possible, I was also commissioned to look for men who would be prepared to kill you, Abu Rakwa, for a substantial reward. There may well be people like me and other traitors in your midst, but I have absolutely no information about them. I am not so malicious that I would betray innocent people for my own benefit.”

Abu Rakwa took two purses back from Shihab al-Din and tossed them to the spy.

“Untie this man’s hands,” he told some soldiers, “give him a horse and some provisions, and let him go back whence he came. As for you, spy. go back and tell your masters that we remain steadfast. It is our intention to besiege Cairo till we win it or die in the process.”

Abu Rakwa’s aides looked astonished and perplexed, all except Zaydan. “Bravo, Imam!” he whispered to Abu Rakwa as soon as the spy had left. “War is all treachery. That spy seemed happy enough with what he got. He’ll be able to convince his masters that we plan to stay here, exactly in accordance with their own assumptions and calculations. But now, friends, our own path is clear, and the plan is in place. The spy for al-Hakim’s generals has managed to provide us with the information that was missing from ‘Ali ibn Jawhar’s report. Do you alt agree that we should leave al-Giza and take out troops early tomorrow to the al-Fayyum desert? Once there, we’ll be able to surprise the enemy and clip their wings before they have a chance to bolster their numbers any furthers

“Victorious imam,” the aides responded in unison, “that is clearly the best plan.”

“So then, let us all put our trust in God. Take a brief rest, then prepare for tomorrow.”

Tents were erected, and some of the fighters who were either exhausted or wounded made use of them. Many soldiers in the field took brief catnaps, with local men from the Kutamis keeping a rotating watch. Abu Rakwa himself sat down on a palm-trunk, having expended a lot of his own energy in persuading his companions to leave him alone and get some rest.

The imam was well aware that on a night such as this he would not be able to sleep; the situation was critical, and there was no lack of things to keep him awake. In difficult times such as these all he could do was suppress all noxious thoughts by reciting Qur’anic verses or contemplating the stars in the heavens. Once in a while he would close his eyes, not so much to try the impossible by getting some sleep, but rather to search his memory for a previous episode of chronic insomnia. However, he could not recall one, and that made him realize why, from now on, he would never be without a dagger or sword in his hand. “Here I am then,” he muttered several times in a bitter tone, “gradually becoming even more scared of revolution than I used to be of getting rich. I can smell the presence of traitors in our midst, yet I can’t trace a single one of them! Like any caliph and amir, Abu Rakwa is falling prey to delusions, doubts, and panic. He realizes that safety valves can explode at any moment when exposed to the combined pressures of the unknown and critical situations.” The imam found himself obsessed by these thoughts one after the other, and each one was worse than its predecessor. He decided to squelch them all by standing up and pacing around the area. He kept chiding himself for nursing such melancholy ideas and cursing the evil in his soul. For a while he managed to maintain this frame of mind, but then he started yelling out loud, “Ye people! Wake up, soldiers of God! Prayer is better than sleep; rise up to salvation! Rise up to fight for a cause where there is no slumber! Men, rise up to salvation!”

The imam’s shouts woke up all the soldiers and animals. His aides tried to calm him down, but he rounded on them. “Weren’t you the ones,” he yelled, “who wanted to move quickly to the decisive battle? By God, sleep interrupted by worries and anxieties is useless. After today our only rest will come with victory. Order our fighters to muster and prepare their riding animals. God willing, we will head for the field of battle immediately after the dawn prayer.”