Bensalem Himmich - The Polymath

I was born seventy-six years ago, at the beginning of Ramadan, the month of fasting, the month when the Qur’an was sent down. This year, when the blessed month came round again, my illness returned even worse than before. I lost all taste for life and prayed to God to bring me close to Him. I begged for intercessions from his noble Prophet who spoke truly: ‘When Ramadan comes, heaven’s gates are opened and those of hell are closed.’ As my death seemed ever more imminent, Sha‘ban became more and more dismayed. I asked him to send my wife a letter that I wrote, requesting her to arrange my burial in the Sufi cemetery outside the Bab al-Nasr. Then I lay down on my bed, waiting for the arrival of the angel of death who would forever extinguish the residual warmth in my body; waiting too for the hand that would close my eyes with unique gentleness. .

This period of waiting starts with involvement, followed by a recondite, yet stunning plunge into the depths of folly and grief.

This is a wait for the jugular vein and all other pulses and pumps to be severed!

The process of dying, I can confirm, involves an end with neither doubt nor ambiguity. That confirmation comes from an internal voice, one that speaks from the midst of my muscles and limbs, using the language of separation and annihilation.

Ulcers on my legs, like ants, or rather bloody worms that crawl through veins and bones, making their way so, so slowly, and yet beneath the standards of rugged determination.

My head remains feverish; I know it well and its habitation.

The statement of faith before fate snatches me away unexpectedly!

So I muttered the statement of faith over and over again, interspersed with prayers for myself, my father, my family, and all my loved ones who will live on after me. I repeated these entreaties as many times as I could. I expressed the hope that Umm al-Batul, the sweet joy of my spirit, would happily join me in the Garden of Eden after traversing the narrow pathway safe and sound on the Day of Judgment. Then, once my mind started to close down and my tongue grew heavy, my own guardian spirit appeared to me and whispered in my ear, “Release me from these chains. . ”

There is a vague blur in front of my eyes, and I realize that it is Sha‘ban, whom my vision has transformed into a thin, ethereal being like smoke. I feel his presence as he leans over me, shedding a tear as he does so, or tries to feed me some light food. I feel him once again as he wraps my freezing-cold feet in woolen blankets.

Praise to the living God!

My entire life appears before my eyes as an amalgamated series of images, brilliantly lit and in sequence. When I look back on some of them in the light of theories about deserts and cities, East and West, sparks and ashes soon begin to fly. All that remains in my vision is a thick fog enveloped by smiling angels; they may well be the angels of mercy and understanding.

Praise to the living God!

Now the entire lower half of my body is falling apart in preparation for the advent of death. No doubt, it is anxious to liberate the spirit from the pit of decay and disease.

These drunken ravings are what emerges from an obsessive concern with the wait for the final breath or the last, great cry. As the wait spins ever faster and time settles into the great darkness, oh how nightmarish are the fearsome visions.

Seas on fire, hurling waves of blood and mire.

Glowering skies replete with winds and ashes, pounding the earth below with torrents of locusts, frogs, and lice.

Now all is confusion. My vision turns to iron.

Here now is Izra’il, the Angel of Death. He stands behind me, wearing a luminous garment whose folds seem like silken wings. He has not come to negotiate with me about death, but rather to urge me to set my sail and wash my hands of this lower world.

“Good man,” he told me, “the years have exhausted you. You have long strived to reach your Lord. Now you will soon meet Him.”

“When blood pours out of its veins,” he asked, “does it ever return? Can fruit, once picked from the branch, be put back?”

“Impossible,” I replied.

“You, then, are just like that fruit or blood,” he said. “Put another way, you are like milk once it has left the udder. All it can do is disappear down the throat of whoever drinks it or else go sour till it evaporates.”

“Since I am a graduate of this troubled era,” I asked, “will you allow me to write my last will and testament?”

“It is not the right time,” he replied. “You are like a hollow palm trunk, lying there on your bed paralyzed and subject to all sorts of gruesome visions.”

All of a sudden the angel’s voice disappeared. I begged God to sever the cord as quickly as possible.

Perhaps He who alone is eternal responded to my call. I saw myself making my way along a deep trench with many branches, byways, and dark spots. Having reached its end, I then saw myself plunging into a bottomless abyss possessed of total control over the forces of fusion and attraction. At its very bottom, twixt earth and dust, it had the power to restore the falling soul to its original clay. The only one to escape its depths was the soul that in its ascent clung to the rope extended by God from heaven to earth.

Dates in the glossary are given in their Islamic (Hijra) form followed by their Gregorian equivalent.

‘Abd al-Wadi:one of the North African dynasties during IBN KHALDUN’S time, based in TILIMSAN (Tlemcen).

Ablaq Palace:the Mamluk sultan Baybars (d. 676/1277) ordered an ablaq (striped) palace of black and ocher to be constructed in Damascus. It was later replicated in Cairo by Sultan al-Nasir Muhammad ibn Qala’un, who was first chosen as sultan as a child in 693/1293, but then deposed and sent into exile in Syria; he reassumed the sultanate in 698/1299.

Abu ‘Abdallah, deposed ruler of Bougie:IBN KHALDUN par ticipated in a plot to liberate Abu ‘Abdallah, the former amir of Bijaya (Bougie, formerly an important port, now in modern Algeria), and was imprisoned for two years by Sultan Abu ‘Inan. For a short period, Abu ‘Abdallah was restored to his dominions, but he was ousted by his cousin, Sultan Abu al-‘Abbas.

Abu ‘Amir:one of the Marini sultans in Fez who ruled for less than a year (799–800/1396–97).

Abu al-Faraj al-Isfahani (d. 363/967):Abu al-Faraj was the compiler of a large and famous collection of early Arabic poetry and song, Kitab al-aghani (‘The Book of Songs’).

Abu Hanifa al-Nu‘man (d. 150/767):founder of the Hanafi school of Islamic law.

Abu al-Hasan al-Shadhili (d. 656/1258):born in northern Morocco, al-Shadhili became one of the most significant figures in the spread of Sufism. The Shadhiliya sect is named after him.

Abu Madyan (d. 594/1197):a renowned Andalusian mystic, he was born near Seville, but spent most of his life in North Africa.

Abu Sa’id:Marini sultan in Fez from 800/1398 till 823/1420.

‘Adiliya College:this mosque-college in Damascus where IBN KHALDUN took up residence in 803/1400 was situated close to the citadel of the city and to the northwest of the Great Umawi Mosque.

Ahmad ibn Hanbal (d. 241/855):founder of the Hanbali school of Islamic law.

‘Ali (d. 40/661):Muhammad’s son-in-law and cousin, the son of the Prophet’s uncle, Abu Talib. His appointment as the fourth caliph was the cause of the first great schism in Islam, creating the subdivision of the community into Sunnis who supported the Umawi dynasty and Shi‘is who believed in the validity of ‘Ali’s claims.