Bensalem Himmich - A Muslim Suicide

Amid this hubbub of events, I snatched as many moments of seclusion in my closet as I could in order to complete the process of editing and correcting my epistles. To them I added an essay made up of my testament to my pupils and companions. I was delighted that a group of them undertook to make copies of it and distribute them to those of my followers who were interested and equally happy when one of them undertook to send it to three of my closest confidants in Granada. One month later, he came back with news that they were all safe and sound, and with a commentary on my covenant to them and other people whom I loved as they loved me; not only that, but others as well who had never met me or been close to me. When I perused this commentary, I discovered that it was exhaustive, enlightening, and extremely useful; where I had merely alluded to things and fallen short, it provided explanation; where I had waxed too cerebral and opaque, it made things clearer-may God grant them all a just reward!

Amid this hubbub, I also did my level best to keep my tribulations and concerns from my wife, for fear of somehow diminishing her lively spirit and radiant self. But such was her innate sensitivity and intelligence that she sometimes noticed the frowns and anxious expressions on my face. She would then ask me what was the matter.

"Were I to tell you what is the matter, my darling, and go into detail, you'd only feel sad and burst into tears. There's been a consistent darkening of the atmosphere between myself and both political and juridical authorities, the latter of whom are bent, wherever I happen to settle, on tightening the noose around me so as to force me to give up and move somewhere else. I've been prevented from teaching or meeting my students in legitimate public spaces. All that and more. My dear Fayha', how can I possibly talk to you about all of it when I cannot bear to see signs of anxiety and concern on your lovely face! That's why I am going to make do with giving you just a few short details as a way of distracting your attention from matters that are much more serious and below the surface.

"My dear beloved, I belong to the group that aspires to discover things about present and future circumstances. Every time I learn something, my consciousness expands. Every time I become more aware, I feel miserable about the corruption and sorrow that mar this lower world of ours. But I thank God who has led me to you and made of you a warm refuge and gleaming beacon."

My wife smiled at me in gratitude and pleasure. "I have discovered, 'Abduh," she said, "that the governor is sick in bed and very ill. Haven't you gone to see him and check on his condition?"

"I'll certainly do that, my lady," I replied, "if it'll please you."

"At all events it'll please both me and God, my dear."

Next day at noon, I headed for Ibn Khalas's house opposite the governor's residence. Passing through the rows of guards and servants, I reached the waiting room, where I was met by an enormous man with broad shoulders. He introduced himself as the deputy governor. The way he said my name made it obvious that he had heard all sorts of malicious nonsense about me and my followers. In an utterly uncouth fashion he asked me what I thought of the jurists of Sabta and their mighty overlord, Sultan al-Said. I replied that his question was entirely irrelevant to the purpose of my visit; I had come to see the governor and find out how he was. The man's expression showed that he was extremely reluctant to delay hearing my response to his question, but he did allow me to go in to see the governor. He cautioned me not to disturb him with unnecessary chatter.

The invalid was laid out on his back in bed; only his pale face, hollow eyes, and scruffy beard were visible. Watched by maidservants and retainers, I made my way over to his bed and leaned over to greet him. No sooner did he realize who I was than he drew me to him and asked me to sit down beside his bed. In a feeble, croaking voice he asked me if I knew what was wrong with him, and I replied that I did not. He asked me to examine him. In doing so, I examined his mouth, his eyes, his deadened tongue, his temples, and his neck. I pressed on his stomach several times and checked his pulse. I asked him to breathe in deeply as I pounded his chest and back. I asked him if he had vomited, coughed, or had fits of shivering or fever during the daytime, and he replied that he had not.

"Your symptoms, Sir," I told him, "point to a psychological rather than a physical problem. Take some days off and rest, and make sure you eat well. To the extent possible go for long walks. With God's help, that will lead to your swift recovery."

The governor now sat up and ordered everyone else to leave.

"My dear Pinnacle of the Faith," he told me with an affectionate look, "I had no idea that God had endowed you with the gift of medical knowledge as well. Through your profound diagnosis of the hidden bases of my illness, you have zeroed in on the true cause, but…"

At this point he paused for breath and heaved a deep sigh through his nose. It was as though he were making ready to deliver some momentous statement.

"Dear brother," he went on, "if only you knew how totally overwhelmed and oppressed I feel, you would have sought some remedy that would be more effective than the one you have suggested. A short while ago, I received a letter from Sultan al-Sa`id in which he upbraids me for not doing enough to oppose the Hafsid cause in Sabta. Just last week I received yet another letter, in which he insists that I prevent the populace from paying any attention to Sufis and preachers of heretical opinions; you are mentioned by name as being the principal instigator of heretical opinions and inciter of the populace against both jurists and political authorities. Recently the sultan has promoted 'Abbu al-Zughbi, the person who met you at the door, to serve as my deputy, with authority over both me and the people of the city. He has the authority needed to influence the jurists and senior figures in the city and can tell them exactly what he wants. He can pass on whatever he likes or tell whatever lies he chooses to tell. The Arabs may have their particular faults, and the Berbers as well, but this particular clod combines them all in one; he's the foulest and meanest type imaginable."

With that the governor paused to recover his breath. "So that's the way things are with me," he said, "and that's what's new. I'm exhausted and sick. So tell me, what's the best cure?"

The things he had told me were certainly enough to demand a fair share of sympathy and pity. My response was intended to give him encouragement to hold fast and bolster his resolve.

"In view of the situation as it is now," I replied, "the only solution requires you to fortify yourself with God's help and rule justly and truthfully. You need to show people how reasonable your actions really are…"

"My dear man," he interrupted angrily, "are you forgetting that I'm now under orders myself? I'm not in control any more. I'm supposed to be the sultan's deputy, not his foe. Do you really expect me to cajole the people of Sabta into rejecting their allegiance to Marrakesh? Ibn Sabin, I'm already being accused of supporting your views. The only way I am going to be cured is if you leave Sabta. If not, so much the worse for both you and me! If I order you to leave, then Sultan al-Sa`id will be convinced that I am loyal to him and will not accuse me of being a Hafsid sympathizer. So tell your family and followers that you're planning to go on the lesser pilgrimage, and then the Hajj. Once the storm has settled down and things are looking better, you'll be able to come back safe and sound. That is a promise I can make to you as a token of my affection. Understand me clearly: leave now, make your arrangements with as little fuss as possible, then let me know. Now that I've told you this, I feel better."