Bensalem Himmich - The Polymath

Al-Hihi immediately replied in the negative with a shake of his head and a hand gesture. “I never believed Ibn Battuta’s story about Abu ‘Inan’s single-handed victory over an entire army nor his tale about the same ruler to the effect that it was easier to kill a lion than a sheep. So how can I possibly accept a story that is even more implausible?”

The master was delighted with his amanuensis’s response. “Forget about the two stories you mentioned involving Ibn Battuta,” he continued. “According to the text they come from the witticisms of his amanuensis, Ibn Juzayy. You should be aware that Ibn Juzayy was appointed as recorder by Sultan Abu ‘Inan in person; the rest you can supply for yourself.”

“I didn’t realize that. Even so, it doesn’t entirely exonerate Ibn Battuta.”

“Forget that for the time being. Write this down: In deciding between what is possible and impossible, as in all matters of disputation, there is no avoiding an empirical approach. Anyone who disagrees with us about the statue of the starling should be asked to build one like it and wait for the oil to emerge after the starlings have brought it some olives. Similarly, with Alexander’s construction of the city, anyone who disagrees with our position should be asked to repeat what Alexander did: could he have breathed inside a glass box lowered into the sea and would he have resurfaced still alive and breathing? This is the only way to deal with all these implausible myths that go against the natural order of things and impede the advancement of knowledge.”

Whenever Ibn Khaldun broached serious topics, one of his habits was to lower his head in thought, then ask his amanuensis to record his observations and comments. On this particular occasion he told al-Hihi to write these thoughts down. “Record them, Hammu,” he said, “so that no one will think I’m one of those academic types who is always gloomy and cantankerous or else thinks in circles or squares — a person who can only comprehend the world in terms of equations and numerals. Record that I never disregard stories simply because they are amusing. I only declare them insignificant once I have come to see them as mere appendages to major historical sources, available for citation without any proper investigation or detailed critical analysis. However, beyond those kinds of contexts, I think it’s wonderful to be able to read such tales when we feel aggravated or downhearted; and how often that happens in these dark days of ours! We can read them and regard them as sources of pleasure and enlightenment; they may well be the only sources of fresh air and moderation in our troubled lives.”

Al-Hihi’s skill at taking dictation was without parallel. Proverbs were struck on the basis of his skill at keeping record of what was said. On this occasion, however, such was his companion’s excitement and intensity that he found himself forced to postpone the process of correction and organization. This is what he heard him go on to say: “Hammu, record what I say — that is what I have commissioned you to do. So record that on several occasions, whether asleep or awake, I have dreamed of being turned into a starling, a bird that would carry olive after olive to the mouths of starving people across the breadth of the region where I live.

“Then note down that I have sometimes dreamed of seeing the City of Brass in the desert by Sijilmasa. I made my way inside the city through one of its walls. I neither cried out from the top nor did I throw myself down, and all to avoid vanishing inside the city for evermore. Instead I called to Him of the Beautiful Names, and then bargained with the stalwart guards of the city to give me a tour. They accepted, on condition that afterward, when I was leaving the city, they could make me forget everything I had seen. That’s the way it happened. I saw the city teeming, with innumerable wonders and miracles. Of beauty and justice I witnessed things the eye has never seen, the ear never heard, and the hearts of men never sensed. Do not ask me for details. Everything was erased from my memory. What remains is the purest of fragrances.

“Now Hammu, record that sometimes when I have a headache or feel depressed, I sit down facing the river. All sorts of fantasies clog my mind, leading me into a glass cubicle that takes me to the bottom of the sea. The idea is not to hunt satanic beasts, but rather to encounter the netherworld of sea creatures and plants and to observe them from close up. I must confess to you that my innate curiosity leads me to imagine a descent to the depths, not merely for observation, but also to investigate in detail both their marine leaders and statesmen and their general populace. That is even more the case since my own knowledge of such matters is inferior to that of Aristotle and al-Jahiz. But please make it clear that the reason for my interest in the application of the imagination to the sea-world is not to prove that the hippopotamus, for example, has two penises and that its flesh can cure sexual impotence; nor to observe other amphibians, horses, dolphins, dogs, pigs, or other denizens of lakes, valleys, rivers, and canals. Our knowledge of such phenomena is reasonable enough, and further information serves to match our facilities in such topics. To the contrary, my own postulates on the subject concern the depths of the sea: I am anxious to find out whether the absolute, never-ending silence engenders group identities and clashes of leadership intentions among groups of mammals, fish, and crustaceans. It may well be that faulty equipment and weak will may be overwhelmed by such an all-pervasive silence. But, if such be the case, then I shall put my suppositions, albeit with broken wings, into a drawer and continue to stare, as long as God wills, at the magical tableaux of organic and inorganic entities beneath the surface of the sea. The dynamic and static elements will be explained as part of God’s plan for the universe or else as random products of a frivolous universe. Are you following me, Hammu?”

“Master,” replied Hammu, sweat pouring from his brow, “I am with you, with pen and paper, beneath the sea’s surface!”

“In that case,” ‘Abd al-Rahman continued, “conclude the record of this session by noting that I am not one to deny the essence of dreams and the miraculous. Far from it! In the right circumstances I fully approve of them. Nor do I reject strange and fanciful tales with both ancient and modern implications. As contributions to the world of imagination and fancy I welcome them warmly. They offer an opportunity to blend norms and yardsticks and to consider initiatives and problems on a different level, one that is rid of the Bedouin mentality so deeply rooted within us, the habits of those good old nomads with their addiction to subterfuge and mayhem. Our way of thinking can never be truly free unless we purge ourselves of such notions and the modalities that they impose. There is much more to say about this.”

At this point Hammu felt the urge to ask ‘Abd al-Rahman why he was so keen to explore things in such depth, but he stopped himself — or rather, he postponed the question. He was afraid that if he extended the session ‘Abd al-Rahman had already declared over, his hand would be aching even more.

‘Abd al-Rahman was now left on his own. He stretched out on the cushions and started reciting to himself his favorite muwashshah poem, by Lisan al-Din ibn al-Khatib. This is how part of it went:

On nights when, but for the dazzling suns ,

Darkness would conceal love’s secrets ,

When the star of the wine-cup inclined, then set ,

Its path straight, its trace felicitious ,

. . . .

When sleep brought us pleasure ,

Or as morning light assailed us like nightwatchmen ,