Bensalem Himmich - The Theocrat

“Pamphlets and petitions are never used, my lord, to write history. It is not bothered with people’s fairytales. History is whatever I write, the things you tell me to record under the inspiration of Him who has made you His caliph to mankind on earth.”

“Those very pamphlets scoff at your history, Mukhtar. They will take revenge on both you and me. They write another kind of history, one that will only recall my name with guffaws and curses. Had you read any of them, you’d realize what I’m afraid of: one traces my ancestry back to a donkey; another claims that I regularly seduce my own sister; a third announces that I stare at the private parts of young boys and palace pages, then accuses me of pederasty.”

Every time al-Hakim talked about the content of a pamphlet, he leaned over and whispered things in al-Misbahi’s ear. The historian squirmed in his place and asked God for mercy.

“And those pamphlets,” al-Hakim went on, “don’t even include others that invoke a malevolent eloquence to portray the way I have shed blood and ruined reputations. If only you could take a look at the disgusting pamphlets that Muzaffar brings to me under his parasol, you’d drown yourself in the Nile or else join me in thinking how to take revenge.”

“But my lord,” the historian replied, “such populist rubbish just goes back where it came from. Before long such obscenities are completely forgotten. That’s what history has taught us, and it can serve as the most accurate teacher and guide.”

“My current predicament has nothing to do with history, Mukhtar, but with my own depression. I feel slighted and demeaned. Inside I’m suppressing a scream, loud enough to shake palace and neighborhood, I am contemplating an idea that, if implemented, will put an end to old Cairo and everybody in it.”

“My lord, I have already inserted the following passage in my history, referring to your actions in Rabi’ al-Awwal of A.H. 395: ‘You ordered a storehouse to be built at the foot of the mountain and to be filled with sanat wood, reeds, and alfa. Everyone — governors, generals, and secretaries in government service — was scared, not to mention the rest of the populace. Petitions increased, and there was much distress. All secretaries and administrators, Muslim and Christian alike, gathered on the fifth of the month and went out to the Rayahin in Cairo, kissing the ground all the way till their reached the palace. Once there, they stood by the gates, praying and begging forgiveness. They brought with them a document penned on behalf of all of them. When they entered the palace, they repeated their pleas for forgiveness, but no one bothered to pay any attention. They handed over the document to the senior general, and he sent it on to the caliph himself. With that, they were all pardoned and, by order of the senior general, told to leave and come back early the next morning in order to hear their pardon read out. So they all left in the afternoon, Next morning they heard read out separate decrees for Muslims, Christians, and Jews, in each one of which there was a pardon and guarantee of safety.’” 21

Al-Hakim looked insanely happy. “How well you have memorialized me, Mukhtar!” he said acidly. “And you remind that I ordered the storehouse burned so that I could enjoy the lire. On those days the whole thing was a bit of fun, a kind of joke. But the fire I have in mind now is intended to wreak deadly vengeance on the people who make those pamphlets.”

“Start your fires, my lord, and I’ll be there beside you to write the proper description and justification.”

“The people of old Cairo, whose attachment to life is their sickness, can try crawling to me on their bellies like lowly reptiles, but this time there will be no pardon and no safety for them. Night is almost over now. Mukhtar, so go home to your family. Tomorrow night look for me in the dome of the sky, in the desert by the Pyramids. Bring Hamid al-Din al-Kirmani with you. I will need him to explain certain ideas precisely.”

No sooner had al-Hakim issued his command than al-Misbahi gave a bow and left as fast as he could. The caliph stretched out in a corner and snoozed for a little while guards outside kept watch in a desultory fashion.

Next evening, al-Misbahi and al-Kinnani went to their rendezvous in the desert by the Pyramids and sat inside a tent opposite al-Hakim. The caliph looked relaxed and serene; he seemed in a contemplative mood. These symptoms were the result of not only the clement weather and soft breezes, but also the awe inspired by al-Kirmani’s large frame, radiant visage, and profound words.

Al-Hakim took a deep breath and rocked back and forth. “Greetings to the great authority of the Iraqis and eminent philosopher of our cause,” he said. “How is it that you have been absent for so long? I have been in urgent need of someone knowledgeable in the highest and lowest degrees, thirstier than sand itself for the fresh water of truth.”

Al-Kirmani placed his hand on his heart and gave his interrogator a sad, yet affectionate look. “My lord,” he said, “I have only turned my attention from you in order to focus on your needs. My only concern and preoccupation has been the blessed calling and the reformation of whatever of it has been dissipated. Truth to tell, regions and islands still seem to me to be as I described them to Your Majesty more than two years ago:

“The heavens are shrouded in a blanket of clouds. People are suffering an enormous trial. The covenant recorded in former decrees has been broken; the works of the holy men of our religion have been cast aside; the ceremony of holding a council of wisdom in accordance with their past practice has been rejected. The lofty has been abased, and the lowly exalted. With my own eyes I have watched as holy and devout men of faith — may God extend their light! — men who have been fostered within the arms of the cause, have stood perplexed in the face of these circumstances that are enough to turn hair white. They have found themselves utterly bewildered by the kind of innovations that normally only send hypocrites and heretics to perdition. These days they are killing each other and charging their colleagues with fornication and criminality. They let evil notions and destructive rumors get the better of them, and seem totally unaware of the clear smoke that protects them and the fearsome trial they will face. Some have taken excess to its limits, others have renounced the bonds that tie them to their faith. A minority have totally shaken off the religion and devotions that were their choice and habit. They face a grim future of moral decline and dissipation beset by devils all too eager to snatch them away and rob them of their beliefs. Some people among them are content with their personal credo, in that their spirits are delivered through belief in God Almighty’s own statement; Those who go astray cannot hurt you if you are rightly guided.” 22

“Don’t rub salt in the wound, Hamid al-Din,” al-Hakim reacted, making no attempt to hide his exasperation. “You bring up such things about times past, when my remaining time is limited. How can I possibly embark on a campaign against my own adepts when I am totally involved in quelling my own conflicts and anxieties? Haven’t you noticed how I’ve let notables and grandees strut about, using my titles and decorations? I no longer strip them of such things, just so that they can buy them back. Haven’t you read my safety guarantee for non-Muslims where I allow them to rebuild the churches I’ve destroyed and celebrate their feasts and liturgies again? Eminent sage, I am tired and on edge. The things being said by the people of Fustat sicken me.”

Al-Misbahi now broke his silence. “My lord,” he said with a stutter, “exhaustion and disillusion are conditions suffered by all great leaders and overseers of peoples’ destinies.”