Bensalem Himmich - The Theocrat

“Ah,” al-Hakim went on, ignoring what al-Misbahi had just said, “how I long to live another life, not in order to be a ruler, but to write! Can you even imagine, Hamid al-Din, the things I want to write? Everything that historians do not see or appreciate, all the secret cries, rifts, and verities that are missing from their weighty tomes. For example, return with me to my youth and join me in watching this picture: In the Lu’lu’a Gardens there stands a lofty and eternal oak tree, one that allegedly goes back to Pharaonic times. When I was not yet ten, I used to climb it and spend hours daubing the leaves with glue mixed with seeds. Then I used to hide amid the leaves and wait. It was well before noon when my sticky leaves would be covered with the birds and insects I caught. I used to grab the nearest ones and either strangle them or slit their throats; the ones out of reach I used to get with a stick. The palace cats rushed to congregate under the tree to enjoy the feast I brought them. I’d often kill any cat that was too vicious or greedy. I kept on doing this till one day Burjuwan came along, made me come down, and told me that my father had died. With that, he placed the crown on my head, kissed the ground in front of me, and, along with everyone else, acknowledged me as caliph. As I submitted to the ceremonies of installation, I was also saying farewell to birds and insects. It was only with the greatest reluctance that I descended sadly from their realm, hoping to find the same consolation and serenity in the concerns and pleasures that would come with my new throne and control over people’s lives. My historian has only included the barest skeleton of this particular story, and I wish to write about it myself since it is the origin of all the nightmares and horrible visions that have beset me, things I’ve had to carry inside me during dealings with my subjects — warding them off in good times and applying them in bad ones.”

Al-Kirmani was upset by what he heard, but managed to recover his poise and equanimity. “‘My lord,” he commented, “from my perspective the only conclusion to be drawn from this recollection is that you are indeed the imam indicated in God’s noble words: So wait for a day when the heavens will bring a manifest smoke to cover people. This is a dire punishment . Like prophets and imams before you, you have been sent to baffle human minds with your deeds and to use them thereafter to test the secret intentions of mankind.”

“Like all philosophers, Hamid al-Din,” al-Hakim responded, “your words arrive when the sun is already setting and it is too late. Where are we now with our highest and lowest degrees? What of our creatures, our minds, our firmaments; our symbolic words, our integers, our alphabetic computations? The entire edifice is cracked, great sage, and our corporeal world is crumbling on our heads like so many specters and bubbles that vanish into thin air.”

“In the name of Him who has no like or contrary and who cannot be sensed or comprehended,” al-Kirmani replied, “it’s only advocates of excess, ambition, and greed who keep sapping the strength of the mission. Such people seek shelter in the light of your divine presence, yet they still manage to distort things. As they tour countries and provinces, they deliberately and maliciously misuse the words of our imam. Ja’far al-Sadiq: ‘Whoever spends a year without providing us with a portion of his goods, small or great, will not see God — praised be He and exalted! — on the Day of Resurrection.” They omit to mention these other words of his: ‘Anyone who discloses our secret and then comes to us with a mountain of gold will find himself only further distanced from us.’ So who are these people, other than purveyors of impossible idiocies, who have revealed our secrets and displayed them on walks and streets? Who else has exposed our divine calling to all kinds of calumny, something to be trampled underfoot by men and beasts? Up hill and down dale you’ll find them yelling about how our lord’s very hair is a manifest sign of divine revelation, his woolen garment is possessed of exegetical authority, and his donkey is living proof of the fact that he is empowered to speak. These are just some of the varieties of nonsense that Egyptians-treat with such sarcasm.”

Al-Hakim looked distracted and was clearly annoyed by what he was hearing. “Don’t tell me,” he interrupted, “about things that cannot be corrected. Al-Akhram has been murdered. Hamzah and al-Druzi have fled together, carrying word of our beliefs to the Syrian mountains. So there’s no crisis. All that concerns me now is my own total self, and yet it keeps torturing me with questions: ‘You who are close to relinquishing power, during your reign have you really exercised authority in accordance with stars and heavenly bodies? Or rather was it the case that one day your eyes overflowed with tears and a joy to make you smile? Have you experienced moments when you started trembling and fluttering enough to attract doves to you, or were you rather like someone who experiences orgasm during sex and then proceeds to spread the word of peace?’ Great sage, how can I respond to such questions other than with absolute sincerity? So, the total unvarnished truth is that, throughout my troubled life, I’ve found myself transporting the onus of the heavenly coffin inside my head and suffering exhaustion and bleeding as I shouldered the seasons’ dizzying succession. Anyone who aspires to delve deep into such mysteries should neither rule nor have authority. Indeed such a person should never be involved in ephemeralities or even in tangential dealings with people. The truth is that I have involved myself in contradictions, so I now see myself brought so low that I am a mere part of things rather than being master. I have plastered my people with signs, and they have hurled double them back at me. I have celebrated my feasts and celebrations, and they have always done precisely the opposite. I buried al-Akhram with all due ceremony, and they proceeded to bury his murderer with even more. We both watch each other. They greet all my serious initiatives with guffaws and my decrees with leaflets.”

Al-Hakim’s mood worried al-Kirmani; he was afraid of what fresh outrages the caliph might unleash. Mustering all his powers of persuasion, he decided to try to soothe the caliph’s anxieties and cheer him up somewhat.

“My lord,” he said, “so tar nothing is lost. Just close the book on the past and send out new missionaries to your people. They can pass on the counsel of our imam, Ja’far al-Sadiq: ‘Make it so people love us, not hate us.” Don’t forget always to live by the hadith of our beloved Prophet (on Him be peace!): ‘If there is to be just a single day left for this world, God will prolong that day, so that from my offspring may come one who will fill the world with justice just as it has been filled with injustice.’ The message of that hadith is a powerful and noble one, sufficient in itself to provide my Lord with a release from hardship and hope after despair.”

Al-Hakim now stood up, walked toward the tent-door, and started nervously pacing up and down.

“August sage,” he said, “the people are no longer of a mind to wait till a final day for justice. They don’t want any more tests or trials. Today what they want is equity and pride, and soon; they want instant gratification. In such a situation I have neither discretion nor authority. Should I go out and tell them, like Jesus. I am the Son of God on High’? Or should I threaten them with I am the Mount, the inscribed Book, the inhabited House , I am the Lord of Resurrection, imam of the faithful, the manifest knowledge, tongue of believers, buttress of monotheists?’ By God, if I were to do such a thing, people would start banging drums, making fun of my words, and doing the belly-dance and other salacious things. No, we’ve had enough arguing and chatter. The only possible solution is for me to become the raging fire that reaches their very hearts. Join me tomorrow night, Mukhtar, in the hills overlooking Fustat, that accursed and obstreperous den. Then you’ll be able to write the most incredible part of your history. As for you, Hamid al-Din, I regret that you haven’t been able to cure me of my depression, but you should realize — God take care of you! — that you need to bring your ideas at the right time, not at a moment which is beyond the scope of actions and rules of time.”