Bensalem Himmich - The Polymath

“Indeed you have. Your answer is comprehensive and detailed.”

“Just make it clear that in the Maghrib I am usually known as being from the Hadramawt, whereas in the Mashriq people called me ‘Maghribi.’ In these contentious times I can serve as a living reminder of the ties that bind.”

With that ‘Abd al-Rahman stood up and headed for the door. Saying farewell he repeated his usual phrase: “More to follow.”

The Night at the End of Rabi‘ al-Akhir

On this particular night, no sooner had the two men sat down and exchanged greetings than ‘Abd al-Rahman immediately started talking without even asking his scribe to write anything down. Even so, al-Hihi, bent over his pages and started writing.

“If God grants me a long life, Hammu,” he said, “the time will come when I’ll tell you about certain phases of my career that were unsettled and exhausting, some of them in the Maghrib, others in the Mashriq. There may be aspects of life here in the Mashriq that I forget about, but I can never forget the occasions when I’ve clashed with government authorities who have managed to exploit all manner of deceit, conspiracy, and falsehood to their own ends. While dealing with the Maghrib, my memory may again prove faulty, and yet I’ll never forget the indignities I had to suffer at the hands of the tribal leader who hid his real intentions under the guise of an amir, minister, or legal expert. In both regions, violence is a reality, the law of the land, although its modes of planning and implementation vary greatly. But this isn’t what I want to talk to you about. My subject tonight is something that has been completely preoccupying my mind during my time alone.

“Write this concept down, Hammu, and in big strokes: the word is ‘history,’ and don’t overlook its derivative concepts of change, conversion, transition, overthrow, and transformation. The idea besets me, Hammu. It fills my days and my working hours. Sometimes I even dream of changing sides and resorting to its opposites; or, at the very least, joining the ranks of those who have written travel manuals or geography books. How pleasant and relaxing it is to let ourselves by lulled by the delights of peace and quiet! The idea of starting things from scratch or of having everything nicely settled and in order is extremely attractive.

“But how am I supposed to reconcile man’s nature and conduct with his posture toward this globe he inhabits?

“How do I school my own tastes to gravitate toward the marvels of creation?

“How can I devote myself entirely to making a record of routes and cities, all the while disregarding all the variables engendered by petty disputes and avoiding reference to revolutions and the general chaos they cause — leaving all such things aside with a frown of displeasure?”

“Master,” al-Hihi observed at this point, “you once described to me in passing the way al-Bakri, the biographer, completely overlooks Yusuf ibn Tashufin, the principal figure of the Almoravid movement. If you agree, I’ll include it in the footnotes as an example.”

“You can make it a footnote if you like,” replied ‘Abd al-Rahman, “but be sure to note down as well that Abu ‘Ubaydalla al-Bakri, who can describe a Maghrib that he never even saw, may have some kind of excuse since ‘in any particular era, peoples and generations do not see a great deal of change or transformation.’ For my part, note down that there is no conceivable way that the period I have lived through, one so replete with major events and significant historical trends, could baffle me to the extent of blunting my mind and senses. My dear Hammu, any decision to remain silent in such circumstances would require of me a very particular ability to indulge in mystical abstraction or to suppress those very senses; either that or to resort to the realms of the moribund and static. No indeed! The powers with which I have been endowed are the exact opposite of these. Where history is concerned, I’ve tightened the belt and gone out to meet it head on. I shall put it to the test in innovative ways. Not for me silly games with reports about events and vice versa. No, I prefer to contemplate the ways in which the two elements relate to each other without having to compromise on the ability of my intellect and intuition to make judgments. Looking at life from the vantage point of a process of bidding it adieu or rupturing all linkages with it, that is the basis of my method, the approach that I adopt in my published works, as long, of course, as I remain alive and life continues to course through my veins. Please don’t assume from what I’ve just said that I’m laughing at the concept of eternal life or somehow trying to disparage it. Far from it! What I intend is to place it in its own lofty position, one where there is neither change nor history.”

With that, ‘Abd al-Rahman stopped abruptly, almost as though he were aware that his words had brought him to the edge of a very deep abyss. Al-Hihi seized the opportunity to rub his fingers and scratch his head. All the while, he kept thinking about how difficult it would be for his wife, Umm al-Banin, to comprehend the concepts being used by ‘Abd al-Rahman. He kept coming up with a whole series of questions of the kind that she might well ask when she came out of the kitchen after chatting with the womenfolk. She too might wish to participate in a theoretical discussion about history aimed at identifying its benefits, lessons, and concepts. It was thus with a good deal of hesitation and humility that he now addressed ‘Abd al-Rahman.

“Ever since you appointed me, Master,” he said, “you have generously opened your heart and mind to respond to my comments and requests for clarification. Indeed you’ve often encouraged me to pose such questions, even though they were not a little simplistic. Such is the sign of a true scholar, correct?”

“I’m sure, Hammu, that you have a whole collection of them now, don’t you? Very well, ask away and get ready to record my answers.”

“At the moment I’m thinking of Umm al-Banin. To me, her awareness of the past and a total blank are one and the same. Even so, her ignorance of such matters doesn’t stop her arranging her own life as it comes or relishing the present and even enjoying some of its moments. She might well say that dumb beasts seem to inhabit some kind of absolute temporality, one in which they have no knowledge of the past or interest in the future. And yet, were I even to suggest that from such a perspective she can be placed into the same category as beasts, she would rightly hurl abuse at me, and that would be followed by a veritable earthquake in the kitchen and a boycott of a month or more. When it comes to extolling history or convincing my wife of its merits, I find myself at a loss. Beyond that. Master — font of all wisdom — I find that my own knowledge, feeble though it may be, is not sufficient to prevent me from preferring to linger with the present and to remain ignorant of the rulers of the past.”

For a moment ‘Abd al-Rahman remained silent, his head lowered. Then his face broke out into a sympathetic smile.

“Hammu,” he said, “your observation confirms the fact that the mouths of the simple and innocent will often pronounce truths that academics waste much energy learning. The questions posed are often as legitimate as they are perplexing.”

“And your own modesty, Master, is itself something remarkable. But how can I record it in my documents?”

“Umm al-Banin — may God prolong her life — belongs with the majority of people. There’s no fault in the fact that she’s ignorant about the past and satisfied with the present moment. But in your case, Hammu, your knowledge is greater than you imagine. You’re a fully cognizant transcriber, someone who can deal with the strange and exotic and use your habitual skill to force me to address important issues.