Bensalem Himmich - The Theocrat

Al first, people found it hard to believe that life in their quarters was really returning to normal. Then gradually they started spreading their wings and exercising their rights once more. Men and women from different classes and age groups, everyone started going out into the alleys and streets again. They expressed their joy in praises to God and prayers for the continuing success and victory of the new caliph and his aunt and for crushing defeat and perdition on their foes. They formed processions and threw roses and other fragrant cuttings at each other as they exchanged politesses; all this as a way of giving expression to the overpowering sense of joy and well-being they all felt, second only to heavenly bliss itself.

Everyone in Egypt now began to realize that al-Hakim’s fabled “smoke” had finally dissipated. When women started going out in the evening to stroll along the banks of the Nile, it was clear that the dark night of his reign was truly over. Nightclubs reopened, and once again it was legal to purchase and drink liquor. Egyptians were allowed to hold their festival celebrations again, and they resumed with even greater splendor than before. Banquets resumed too, with all kinds of food and drink; tables would stretch for a mile or more, loaded with roast lamb, chicken, pullets, pigeons, trays of cheeses and sweets, and so on. People from all classes of society turned up, ate as much as they could, and took home whatever was left. These types of celebration were no longer confined to the two big feasts. Greater and Lesser Bayram. Traditional Fatimid celebrations were included, such as the commemorations of the opening of the Canal, of the Nile flood, of the four candles, and other recognized Fatimid holidays. The celebrations also included Coptic ones, Nawruz, Pentecost, and other Christian feast days. Everyone in Egypt now turned these occasions into a celebration of life itself and a means of putting the era of al-Hakim far behind them.

During the dark days of al-Hakim’s reign candles and lamps had only been permitted to bum at night with the tyrant’s permission, Now they were to be seen everywhere on land and water, giving expression to the outburst of sheer joy that everyone felt, and especially people who had suffered badly under the old regime. Nothing better reflected this reinvigoration of the national spirit than the lifting of the compulsory confinement of women inside the house. Public baths once again rang with their voices, and shoe-sellers, couturiers, and beauty parlors thrived. What a feast for the eye! Feluccas and river banks teeming with bevies of beautiful girls whose finery and perfume pervaded every space they chose to grace with their presence. Happy indeed were the young bachelors long deprived of such delights. They could now enjoy the spectacle every evening, and especially on major feast days! A group of pretty girls would parade past, svelte and lively, chewing gum and exchanging small talk. Another would gather round a brazier or an illuminated lake, singing and chanting poems. Yet another would be rowing a boat to the rhythm of a flute player, their long hair flowing like spread sails, their breasts open to the waves’ embrace.

Faced with such overpowering beauty, young men, in fact everyone who set eyes on the girls — whatever their age, even those who considered themselves experienced arbiters of fashion, could only sigh and utter expressions of admiration, at the same time feeling a bitter pang of regret that so much beauty had been buried inside houses during al-Hakim’s gruesome reign.

Now everyone had a sense of being released from bonds of oppression and prohibition, from murder and persecution. Such times were now far, far away. Instead life had a wonderful savor to it and a particular scent that revived and relaxed the soul. This existence could respond to love’s call, to the expression of sweet words, to the aspiration for the beautiful. Sitt al-Mulk herself might also have been able to enjoy her share of this new life and accept the peace and well-being it offered, but instead a vestige of al-Hakim’s “smoke” wafted in, taking the form of the last of his senior missionaries, al-Druzi. Unlike Hamza and al-Akhram, he had not yet died or been murdered, but was still to be found in the mountains of Syria. He kept proclaiming al-Hakim’s divinity and suggested that the Holy Spirit had entered al-Hakim from Adam through the mediation of ‘Ali ibn Abi Talib. He used his eloquence and oratorical skill to convince people that al-Hakim would soon be returning from his occultation; he would then restore justice to a world filled with oppression. Every time Sitt al-Mulk heard about al-Druzi’s pronouncements, she requested God’s mercy and help. Quaking in disbelief she would listen to reports of the fatwas al-Druzi kept issuing. They began, “In the name of al-Hakim, the Merciful, the Compassionate,” and went on to legalize things that were forbidden and to annul prayer rituals and Muslim laws.

Faced with this danger Sitt al-Mulk hurriedly created a planning group led by the caliph al-Zahir Li-I‘zaz Din Allah. Every member of the group favored sending an army to crush al-Druzi and his followers and disciples, but Sitt al-Mulk thought it a better idea to stamp out the disease by cutting off the snake’s head and thus eradicate sedition.

“How can that be done, lady of wise counsel?” they all asked.

“We don’t want to spill the blood of innocent people and those followers who’ve been duped,” she replied. “What we need to do is to infiltrate into the ranks of devotees someone skilled in the crafts of disguise and deceit, someone who can make a big show of loyalty and devotion to the cause. Then, once he’s gained everyone’s confidence, he can choose the appropriate moment to kill al-Druzi and bring us his head.”

It was only a single month after the members of the group had listened to Sitt al-Mulk’s idea and unanimously supported it that the Kutami cavalier who had been selected for the task returned to Egypt with the heads of al-Druzi and three of his major supporters and confidants. Those in the know about the scheme were overjoyed and wished Sitt al-Mulk still further successes of this kind.

When the severed heads were displayed in public, the Caliph al-Zahir started prodding them with his bamboo cane, and members of the group spat on them. Sitt al-Mulk on the other hand refused to have them anywhere near her or even look at them. Instead she had them quickly stored away in the repository for heretics” heads, then spent many hours locked away in her room, weeping bitter tears for the action she had been forced to take against al-Druzi — all of it, by God, in spite of herself! She spent many, many hours weeping over her own inability to solve a paradox, one that revealed itself to her in all its horrifying complexity: in order to stem the hemorrhage, yet more blood had to be spilled. The only thing that managed to dispel this vision was her joyous conviction that all factors pointing to yet another bloody episode had actually ceased to exist in view of the impossibility of al-Hakim rising from the ashes. Any such fears would result in the erasure of any idea of an honorable peace with the Byzantine emperor Basil II, who had announced himself willing to renounce all aid to enemies of (he Fatimid state in return for a restoration to Egyptian Christians of those rights and freedoms that they were entitled to enjoy under the code of Islamic law.

On that notable day when al-Hakim’s “smoke” finally dissipated and no trace of it remained, spring announced its arrival in the Fatimid domains in a spectacular and beautiful form that Egyptians had never witnessed before. The Nile was in full flood, bursting with life and reflecting the light of the clear blue sky. At its zenith the sun bathed land and people in a compassionate warmth. The moon lit up streets and roofs, providing lovers with a plentiful glow. The desert donated to these nuptials of nature a gentle breeze whose scented wafts were welcomed by everyone.