Bensalem Himmich - A Muslim Suicide

"But, my dear brother," the governor replied, his expression one of frowning incredulity, "brotherhoods and Sufis are not fighting men, nor can they undertake defensive actions and preemptive strikes. How on earth can they confront the Christian legions with their enormous numbers and superior weaponry?"

"With that aid of God's power and might, we'll be following the tracks of the Almoravids and Almohads who strove till they achieved huge victories at the battles of al-Zallaqa [in 1086] and Ucles [1108]."

"My dear Abd al-Haqq, the era of Yusuf ibn Tashufin and Ya`qub al-Mansur* is long past. Today the entire dynasty is in terrible shape. Its major figures have their hands in the devil's own sleeve. To say it again, I swear to God that I've never said anything like this to anyone else before."

"The hearts of honest men are where secrets can be buried. You can trust me, my brother, and not be alarmed."

The governor let out a huge sigh. "However I look at things," he said, "our situation is dire and out of our hands. All we can do is hope that God will enable us to escape…"

"Whatever the case may be, we are enjoined to act. In our situation action is a form of worship, something that will enable us to come closer to God. Has AlSa`id forgotten that, as Commander of the Faithful, he is required to display good intentions and effective management in striving toward God Almighty? The only way to compensate for the weakness of the Maghribi armies is to rely on committed believers on both shores. Imposing a system of justice and putting political affairs on a more just and useful course is the only way for him to bolster his position. Asking Frederic, the king of the Christians, for assistance is certainly a laudable gesture, most especially since he has severed his fealty to the church in Rome and made known his admiration for Islamic science and arts. In fact, the head of his religious community has excommunicated him on the pretext that he's virtually a Muslim and denies the authority of the Crusader religion."

I decided not to allude to the relationship between King Frederic and AlMalik al-Kamil, the Ayyubid ruler in Egypt, not only because there was not enough time but also because the governor might not be able to appreciate the complexities involved. My companion remained silent for a while.

"Is your response to the king's letter the reason for your requesting this meeting?" he asked with obvious concern.

"Yes, it is," I replied. "I was anxious to get him to offer help to the people in Spain and also to expand on my responses to his questions."

"But what happens if he doesn't respond to your request, even if it is authorized by Amir al-Said?"

"At all events," I replied, summoning every ounce of courage, "one has to place one's reliance on God Almighty. The ever-growing power of the Hafsids may also provide us with a way out."

The governor seemed delighted by my reply, which he clearly took to heart.

"The Marinids are just a bunch of vagrant nomads," he said. "You can't possibly rely on them. Their brains are in their swords; they have neither knowledge nor belief system. Their leader, Abd al-Haqq, claims to have performed miracles. The one that causes the most ribaldry is that pregnant women who kiss his headcap and trousers find themselves set free in favor of someone even more beautiful!"

I decided not to comment on my companion's opinion. Instead I invited him to pray the evening prayer with me, and he agreed. No sooner had we finished than I hurriedly said my farewells and thanked him for the way he had welcomed me. As he embraced me, he made every effort to keep his angst-ridden expression hidden from view.

ALL THE WAY BACK to my house my mind was churning with clashing sensations: had I followed the right tack in my conversation with Ibn Khalas, or had I strayed too far off course? Had I showed sufficient caution in my assessment of the situation or had I unknowingly been duped? But no sooner had I reached my house than I put the whole thing behind me and decided not to worry about any God-inspired disapproval. I took my horse to its stables, where I found Bilal preparing some fodder and buckets of water. He greeted me warmly, whereupon I apologized for having treated him inadequately on a personal level. After that I headed for the kitchen, attracted by the delicious aromas emerging from it, and checked on the two new servant women working there. I ate some of their cooking standing up, then, after offering them my plaudits, made my way to my wife's quarters.

In our bedroom I found Fayha' seated on the bed looking very glum. When I asked her what was troubling her, she told me that Hafsa's condition in the asylum was very bad indeed. I promised to investigate the situation very soon and leaned over to console her and offer her some comfort. She asked me about my meeting with the governor, and I gave her a short version in which I covered the essentials. She in turn warned me about his coterie and aides, the majority of whom, according to reports, were spies and intriguers. I told her to ignore all that, after which she joined me in some moments of duly sanctioned marital bliss and relaxation.

At noon on the following day the warden of the asylum asked me to come immediately. Once I was standing in his presence, he gave me his condolences on the death of Hafsa; he told me that some two hours earlier she had hanged herself. He took me to the place where her body was laid out and uncovered her face so that I could identify her. There was absolutely no point in asking how she had managed to commit suicide when she was in such a terrible state and palpably incapable of planning and carrying out such a thing. He tried to explain the whole thing as being some kind of terminal gesture and all sorts of other pretexts at which he was clearly a professional. I in turn asked him to prepare a shroud for the dead woman and to make preparations for her burial in the city cemetery.

"My Lord!" he exclaimed in horror, eyebrows raised, "you're a man of the law. You're surely aware of what it has to say about suicides: they may not be prayed over or buried with other Muslims."

"That is a general principle, I agree," I replied. "People who are incompetent, insane, or handicapped are exempt. As you could see for yourself, this woman was clearly mad. There's no reason why you should not respond to my request."

"Were I to do that, Sir," he told me, "I would have all the jurists in the city against me and would immediately lose my job."

I decided there was no point in trying to persuade this man to accept my own posture toward suicide, when he would never be able to comprehend it fully. After several moments' thought, I glared hard at him and asked him what was to be done. His response seemed to be one he had prepared way in advance: "There's a cemetery in the open land between Sabta and Tangier. It belongs to a member of the elite. With the permission from the authorities, perverted people may be buried there. Otherwise all visits are categorically forbidden."

"See to it then!" I told him.

For a moment he said nothing, as though trying to persuade me to understand his position. I asked him how much it would cost, and he gave me an amount. I paid him on the spot, even though I thought it was excessive. He beamed with pleasure and assured me that everything would be done as well as possible, just before sunset on that very day. Taking one last look at Hafsa, I left. Close by the animal stall, a man stopped me and asked for a sum of money in return for revealing secret information that would be important to me. After I had responded to his request, he let me know that this so-called cemetery in the open land was simply the sea, into which they dumped the bodies weighed down with stones. God alone would know where they ended up.