Bensalem Himmich - A Muslim Suicide

Since this was the second time he had alluded to the governor in complimentary terms, I decided to exploit the opportunity.

"My dear 'Abd al-Barr," I said, "these days governors are all of the same ilk, vicious, domineering, and tyrannical. Morning and evening they all sing the same tune: me first, and my own interest, and `apres moi le deluge..: If any of them shows a modicum of mercy and kindness, then it is for a very specific purpose that they have in mind. So is this Ibn Khalas different from all the others? Is he a bird that sings a different song?"

"For my part, dear Sir," he responded in all innocence and sincerity, "I can only go on what I can see. Whatever lingers inside men's hearts I entrust to the One who is all-knowing about the unseen. I have previously described the governor to you just as I have come to know him. As regards the running of the city's affairs, he is fully on top of things, and makes every possible effort to be fair and reasonable. If he were like many other governors who run government affairs these days, he would have apprehended you as soon as you arrived in Sabta and compelled you to follow his line. But, as he has told me many times, he has decided not to harass people who incline toward mystical ideas and seclusion, those believers who tread the delicate path toward God. This posture of his is totally at variance with that of the sultans of the region, Al-Rashid, who rules as sultan in this particular era, being prime among them."

I made no comment on my companion's remarks but preferred to ponder my own thoughts in silence. It was as though there was something I needed but was reluctant to bring to mind. Seeing my mood, he asked me gently what I was thinking about.

"Do you know the lady Fayha' from Sabta?" I asked him.

"I've not met her thus far. However I do know that she's from an illustrious and much respected family. Both her father and husband-may God have mercy on them both! — worked in Ibn Khalas's department. They were both devoted to excellence and admirers of genuine learning. They always were glad to offer assistance to migrants arriving from Spain."

"Tell me frankly, 'Abd al-Barr," I asked, "can you see her as my wife?"

"Anyone who manages to have her as a wife is a lucky man indeed. Put your trust in God and show the best of intentions toward the one whose hand you seek. Aha! So now I can understand what our late friend, 'Abd al-Kamil from Meknes, was talking about on his deathbed. She must have been the really good deal he kept talking about. What a wonderful person that happy devotee was! Now he has left us, and you are about to do so as well. Who knows what's going to happen to all the other good folk living in our midst?"

I noticed the sad expression in his eyes and made a point of assuring him that I fully intended to keep my connection with both him and the zawiya. He heaved himself to his feet and departed, offering me his prayers as he did so.

SO NOW I'VE MADE UP MY MIND.

When both this devout man and the shaykh from Meknes share the same opinion, it cannot be wrong.

I'm waiting for you, Fayha'. So give me a sign, and I'll obey. Issue your instructions, and I'll respond at once. While you are making everything ready for us, I will inevitably have to take some dives, albeit briefly, into a well-defined quadrangle within the broader sea of religious and secular learning.

For that particular day and others that would follow it, I made a selection of books, some of which had long been awaiting my attention. They each issued an invitation, tempting me to read them for the first time or to reread them. I put them either on my table or under my pillow, all with the goal of perusing them whenever possible as a way of compensating for my lack of concentration in recent times. As is my usual practice when it comes to making the most effective use of my learning time, I examined the various genres of writing laid out before me from the perspective of those areas of knowledge and preoccupations that were my particular concern at that point. It seemed inevitable to me that I would have to reread the section from al-Ghazali's great work, Revival of the Religious Sciences, devoted to "marriage customs," in which the great sage manages to give a superb presentation with regard to both its analytical presentation and its clear exposition. In this section (and also in another section devoted to the proper practice of seclusion), he elucidates for the reader his rationale for basing the discussion of differences in people on different life circumstances and personalities, although he goes on to point out that humans in general have a tendency to find a happy medium-to the extent feasible-between devotion to God and marriage and between seclusion and congregation with others. However, anyone who adheres to one of these pairs rather than both is responsible for his own decision and can justify himself on those grounds with no call for censure or blame. As the text itself notes, Malik ibn Dinar* was asked, "Why haven't you married?" to which he replied, "Given my druthers, I would divorce my own self." Then there's the quotation from Ibn Adham*: "Nothing good has ever come from someone who is used to women's thighs." That comment needs much more precision and specificity, and can be interpreted in a whole host of ways.

With regard to my personal circumstances and corporeal existence, it is obvious that I am going to have to close the book on my bachelorhood and all talk of youthful passions. Only then will I be able to use marriage as a way of guiding my desires and passionate urges in the right direction so as to earn the approval of the Prophet. In this matter as in others, my model the Prophet (whom I have seen in dreams on more than one occasion) tells me, "Marriage is my custom. Whoever admires my modes of conduct, let him follow my custom." So, once I have fulfilled to the maximum extent the obligation of investigating my beloved, let my marriage be with God's blessing and in accordance with the Prophet's custom. It is Al-Amash* who transmits the saying "Any wedding undertaken without preliminary investigation will end in pain and grief." I also followed the advice given by the most exalted of prophets to lovers when he says, "Let none of you have sex with his wife like some animal. Instead let there be a messenger between the couple." The Prophet was asked what he meant by the word messenger. "A kiss," he replied, "and sweet, tender words." My model and example, what wonderful words those are! May it all happen as you recommend. In treating the woman who lifts me up and entrances me have I behaved in a way that is any different from what you suggest, my most reliable source-text?

Permissible actions are intended to be modes of both diversion and recreation: what a wonderfully foundational principle that is in my own faith community, one that shies away from tedium and encourages enjoyment and good company! With that in mind, the prospect of marriage and its alleged pitfalls cannot scare me, particularly when God has guided me to an honorable woman who is possessed of both beauty and determination, someone who deserves a partner who is sound in both body and mind.

I happened to notice the book The Attractions of Assemblies, by the Spanish writer Ibn al al-Sanhaji, but soon came to realize that his chapters devoted to ultimate abstraction and total asceticism no longer suited my personal situation; either that, or else they were more appropriate for an age group other than my own. I glanced at another book, Ibn Qasi's* The Removal of Sandals, and took another close look at the linkage of this Portuguese Sufi with Ibn al-'Arif and the influence that the latter had on him, something that led him to rebel against the Almoravids along with a group of his devotees. Assuming that God will grant me enough time and prepare the proper circumstances, I will question the Sufis and engage with their writings in order to distill to the extent possible the ideas of their great mentor, Ibn Masarra.* He was born in Cordoba and lived in the mountains nearby; a renowned Mu'tazili Batini Platonist Sufi, his two major works, The Book of Forebearance and The Book of Letters, are both lost (all we have of them is a number of short extracts cited in works on annalistic history and biography).