Naguib Mahfouz - Before the Throne

“Did you join any revolutions?” asked Abnum.

“No, but I lost a son in one of them,” Sulayman Tadros replied.

“Seemingly, things were moving in a new track,” said the Sage Ptahhotop.

“You truly deserve our empathy,” said Osiris. “Go to your final trial in peace.”

HORUS HERALDED, “Musa, secretary to Ahmad ibn Tulun!”

A tallish man came in and stood before the throne.

Osiris invited him to speak.

“A Christian Copt,” commenced Musa, “The Lord granted me knowledge and skill, and the viceroy, Ahmad ibn Tulun, chose me as his private secretary. He was not an Arab, but was appointed in the caliphate of al-Muatamid ibn al-Mutawakkil. Thereafter he sought to solidify his own rule of the country. It was not only as though Egypt had regained her independence, but had annexed Syria and parts of Asia Minor, as well. He resolutely strove for reform and development, while upholding piety and justice, spreading his protective umbrella over the Muslims, Christians, and Jews alike — they all extolled his praise. He would sit for two days each week with those who had been wronged, just as in the days of the Right-Guided Caliphs.

“That is why, when Ibn Tulun fell very ill, everyone came out to the top of the Muqattam Mountain. The Muslims brought their Qur’an, the Christians their Gospels, and the Jews their Torah, all praying for his recovery!”

“Did the Coptic Christians profit by working for the governor?” asked the Sage Ptahhotep.

“His choosing me proved that he believed in religious equality,” answered Musa. “So sure was I that he did believe in it, that even when I proposed Christian engineers to build his mosques and fortresses, I was looking for the right people, not playing favorites. The just ruler will extract the best from his helpers, and be an example to them.”

“And how were the relations between the sects?” asked the wise Imhotep, vizier to King Djoser.

“Very good indeed, as is only appropriate in the reign of a fair-minded ruler,” said “During Ibn Tulun’s rule, Egypt became one single people, but of three religions. And Islam began to spread more, and to gain more converts.”

Thoth, Scribe of the Gods, sought permission to pose a question — and it was granted. “Why did Ibn Tulun imprison Patriarch Michael of Alexandria?” he asked Musa.

“That was not his fault,” Musa replied, “but a plot by a malicious archbishop named Sakka, who told Ibn Tulun that the patriarch was hoarding enormous wealth, far beyond his needs. So Ibn Tulun demanded that Michael give up part of his treasure at a time when the viceroy was girding to fight off foreign armies. When the patriarch said that he did not have such sums to give, he was arrested on a charge of treason. But then Ibn Tulun’s son, Khumarawayh, succeeded him: he discovered the truth and set Michael free, and brought him back to his post with honors.

“But the heirs of Ibn Tulun were neither as strong nor as iron-willed as him. Fortune turned against their state, and Egypt again looked to the future with anxious eyes.”

“You have presented a splendid account,” Osiris told him. “May peace go with you.”

HORUS HAILED, “Ali Sundus!”

A powerfully built man of middling height walked in, halting before the throne.

Osiris asked him to speak.

“A water carrier, I lived most of my life under the Ikhshidid rulers,” Ali Sundus told the court. “Egypt had gone back to the fold of the Abbasids — and again, scores of viceroys came and went in succession, each inflicting injustices upon the Egyptians, whether Christians or Muslims. Finally, Muhammad al-Utfayh, a Mamluk descended from the kings of Farghana, took up our affairs. He made Egypt independent, and called himself ‘the Ikhshid,’ the customary title among the kings in his country. He drove away those who had designs on Egypt, and in each of his campaigns, urged the Christians to fight alongside him.

“Then power passed to his vizier, the eunuch Kafur, who called himself ‘al-Ikhshidi’ too. During his reign, Egypt possessed both the Hijaz and Syria. He purged the land of corrupt officials, and the nation flourished under his rule.”

“How could you tolerate being ruled by a castrated slave?” said Ramesses II.

“All that mattered to us as Muslims,” replied Ali Sundus, “is that he was a fair servant. A just slave is better than an oppressive prince.”

“And just how does a slave surpass a prince?” Ramesses II answered rhetorically.

“By worshiping the One God,” lectured Akhenaten. “All my life I appealed for human equality — only to be told that I was mad.”

“May peace be with you in your Islamic proceeding,” said Osiris to Ali Sundus.

HORUS CALLED OUT, “Ibn Qulaqis!”

A short, flabby man walked in and stood before the throne.

Osiris bid him address the court.

“I am Abul Fatah Nasrallah ibn Abdullah, known as Ibn Qulaqis al-Lakhmi al-Iskandari, nicknamed ‘the Mighty Judge.’ ”

“A name longer than those of most pharaohs!” gasped Osiris.

“My job was to moor the tall-masted ships at harbor, but I was also a poet. I visited the Maghreb and Sicily, praising their rulers in verse, just as I praised the Fatimids and the kings of Yemen. Egypt was my country, Islam was my homeland, and the art of praise my boon fortune. Hence my ode in panegyric to Yasir ibn Bilal, which opens thus:

Sail ever onward to your great fate / The infant crescent has grown to full moon

The water is kind to him who skims it / But evil to him who settles.

“And it is I who also said:

Gaze on the sun as over the Nile it’s sinking—

More amazing when followed by the redness of evening.”

“Tell me about the time in which you lived,” Osiris ordered him. “Poetry is judged in another venue.”

“The Ikhshidid dynasty was overturned by the Fatimids without resort to war,” Ibn Qulaqis obliged Osiris. “They founded Cairo and al-Azhar, and improved the administration — bringing prosperity along with their reign. When al-Muizz li-Din Illah arrived, he received the nation’s elite, among them Ahmad ibn Tabataba, the scientist and man of letters. He asked the new caliph, ‘From whom did his lordship descend?’

“Al-Muizz then drew his sword half-way from its scabbard. ‘This is my lineage,’ the caliph replied, distributing gold to those assembled. ‘And this is my nobility,’ he told them. To this they answered, ‘We have all heard and will obey.’ ”

“Why didn’t you make your country independent after the Ikhshidids disappeared?” asked Abnum.

“And why didn’t we split away when there was more than one Muslim caliph?” Ibn al-Qulaqis asked in return. “Independence means nothing to the Muslim — all he wants is a strong Muslim ruler who is also just. This we found under the Fatimids.”

“When they swore their allegiance through gold and the sword?”

“Can there be a state without those two things?” Ibn Qulaqis again asked. “The Fatimid age was crammed with knowledge, art, and construction, while the Christians enjoyed both trust and security. But the rule of al-Hakim bi-Amr Illah was unforgettable for its clashing contradictions. Once he would favor the Muslims and persecute the Copts, another time he would coddle the Copts while bashing the Muslims, and then he would just be horrible to them all. But their era ended in a deadly famine — their awe and glory were wiped away, as the people were struck with stunning calamities.”

“Proceed to your trial with peace,” Osiris said to Ibn Qulaqis.