Bensalem Himmich - The Polymath

On the way back to Egypt, ‘Abd al-Rahman asked the sultan for permission to visit the holy places in Jerusalem that he had long wanted to see, but events and duties had conspired against him. That is how he came to pray in the al-Aqsa Mosque, the original place toward which Muslims directed their prayers and the third of the sacred shrines that God blessed. From it, the Prophet Muhammad — on him be peace — had undertaken his night-journey into the heavens. In this mosque the entire roof was open to God’s firmament as was the rest of the sacred enclosure in al-Quds protected by the walls of Salah al-Din ibn Ayyub. In such surroundings ‘Abd al-Rahman’s five senses all seemed to be pulling him gently toward abstraction and transcendence; a throbbing, yet firm desire urged him to launch himself on a spiritual journey. were he not married and tied to the ground, he thought to himself, he would stay here close to the spacious mosque, humbly worshipping God and reflecting as he walked from David’s chambers to Job’s oratory, Mary’s shrine, and Zakariya’s temple — peace be upon them all. As he visited the burial sites of certain prophets, the Dome of the Rock, the paddock of Barraq, the Prophet’s steed on his night-journey, the tower where God spoke to Moses, and many other holy places, ‘Abd al-Rahman felt suffused by a pure spirit of sanctity and enveloped in its radiant light.

This holy city is a symbol of something that occurs readily to the mind of any fascinated visitor. Here amid the three divinely revealed religious faiths stand the covenants of the word all combined. Within the broad context of the unity of God the beginning and end is peace. For that reason ‘Abd al-Rahman decided not to go into the Church of the Holy Sepulchre built on the site of the crucifixion because it represents a breach of those convenants and a slander against the Holy Qur’an.

Having fulfilled all his obligations in the city of peace and radiance, ‘Abd al-Rahman made his way to Bethlehem, where Jesus, son of Mary, grew up. There he touched the remains of the palm root and wrote as follows about the church there:

A huge building on the site of the birth of the Messiah. There the Caesars erected a structure with two rows of stone columns, rounded and aligned, topped by images of kings and the dates of their reigns, duly arranged for whoever may wish to verify their translation at the hands of those familiar with their circumstances. This building may well be seen as a symbol of the rule of the Caesars and the splendor of their regime.

From Bethlehem ‘Abd al-Rahman made his way to Hebron which lies in a gently shaded valley. In spite of its small size, the town is greatly valued because it contains the place of prayer constructed by Solomon the Wise. While there, ‘Abd al-Rahman visited the grotto shrine of Ibrahim, the Companion of God, Isaac, Jacob, and their wives — the purest of peace be upon all of them. There he prayed not only the obligatory prayers but the supernumerary ones as well. In awe and reverence he descended into the grotto, overcome by emotion. Before saying farewell he cast an eye at the grave of Lot — on him be peace — and expressed the wish to bathe in his lake before long.

On the coast of Syria, by the town of Gaza, he recalled that it would soon be time to rejoin the sultan’s retinue on its way back to Cairo. He therefore made do with a short prayer in the city mosque. After eating a sampling of its dates and grapes, he mounted his horse and set off along the coast, avoiding the Israelite wilderness as he did so. On his way a variety of thoughts occurred to him: that visiting al-Quds, just like Mecca and Medina, served to rid any doubting mind of the existence of the spirit; the five senses were left with an indelible trace of that particular dimension called the absolute. Another thought was that any visit to the city of light and peace, to the tombs of the witnesses to the unity of God and those of their wives, was only totally fulfilled in the company of one’s beloved life-companion.

At the northern outskirts of Cairo ‘Abd al-Rahman caught up with the sultan’s retinue and accompanied him into the city while steering well clear of all the pomp and ceremony. When they reached the approaches to the Ablaq Palace, he rushed off home, eager to kiss his wife and daughter.

The master’s hunches about the young sultan’s proclivities toward intrigue and slackness proved to be correct. Toward the end of 802 there was a noticeable change in attitude toward him, all accompanied by abuse and defamation. All the while Sultan Faraj paid no attention and did nothing. His retinue set about organizing ‘Abd al-Rahman’s dismissal as judge and the sale of the office for hard cash to the totally unknown judge named Nur al-Din ibn al-Khilal; no one either objected or saw anything wrong with it. The accusation leveled against ‘Abd al-Rahman was exactly the same as had been used when he had first served as a judge: being too severe in imposing sentences and punishments — or, to put it in terms closer to the reality of the situation, the Maliki judge refused to close his eyes and “take in the broader picture.” What he was supposed to do was to put on a robe crafted by the new military and administrative authorities and accept bribes from their friends who were owners of livestock, farms, and estates. That was how he was to behave if he wished to stay in the good books of political, state, and financial officials. The whole thing involved adjusting God’s laws in accordance with their private desires and interests. What God had explicitly forbidden was to be declared legal. He was to turn a blind eye to crooked sales practices, deceit, and graft, and to go easy on opportunists and monopolists and other types of fraudulent operators.

No, no, a thousand times, no! That is what ‘Abd al-Rahman said to Aqbay, the chamberlain who was intriguing against him as hard as he could. And ‘Abd al-Rahman went on to say, “By God, in whose hands lies my own soul, no sultan, however great his sway may be, will ever dissuade me from passing judgment according to what is right.” Those were inflammatory and crushing words, and they made his enemies realize that things had now come to a head. They forced the chamberlain not merely to fire the judge but to throw him in prison in the Citadel for a week. During that time ‘Abd al-Rahman was allowed to read and to receive his servant, Sha‘ban, who brought him comforting news about his family.

“Everything at home is fine, sir. Your friends have told me what had happened. Never mind, I told myself, I’ll have to tell your wife that my Master is the guest of the sultan.”

“That’s fine, Sha‘ban. Tell my wife that I’m the sultan’s guest, and no one knows for how long.”

While in prison ‘Abd al-Rahman thought less about his own circumstances than he did about the cracks that were appearing in Egyptian military ranks and the ever- increasing advantages for the Mongol invasion. The sultan was very young; now he was aware of exactly how young! A plaything in the hands of evil cliques, only emerging from one crisis to fall into another. Those religious scholars who were both intelligent and well-meaning had neither role nor authority against the political power of clashing ambitions and intrigues. It was better to stay in prison than to be turned into a bridge for the exploitation of thugs and con men.

At the end of the week ‘Abd al-Rahman was ordered released from prison and confined to his house. One of the walls in the prison preserved for posterity a line of poetry composed by its illustrious occupant:

On earth the noble man finds a retreat from wrong;

In it is a refuge for one who fears hate .

Barely had ‘Abd al-Rahman hugged his wife and daughter before he squelched his anger by saying loudly, “This time, Umm al-Batul, we must leave this benighted country. Egypt is no longer a place of refuge from wrong. The Maghrib is my homeland, and it remains so even though it may have treated me badly. The voice of the Maghrib inside me keeps telling me to come home. Fez is waiting for us. Pack up our bags and make ready to leave.”