Tariq Ali - The Book of Saladin

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Tariq Ali has been a British national treasure for almost five decades. Revolutionary, writer, broadcaster, filmmaker, polemicist-fighter in the street-and general all-round trouble-maker (in the nicest possible sense), he's been them all, and usually at the same time. Since 1990 Ali has also worked in fiction, firstly with
, and now with a planned quartet of historical novels, of which
is the second. (The first was the award-winning
.)
Ali's passion for life, and his humor, are found all over this latest work, which is set in the 12th century-with eerily prescient echoes of modern times. It shows us the conflict between Christian and Islamic civilizations set to a sometimes bawdy, sometimes brutal background where all of life is in flux. As in his previous novel, Ali shows the depth and breadth of his learning and humanity on every page. Like his central character, Saladin, or Salah-al-Din (the Kurdish liberator of Jerusalem), he has been a fighter of many causes, a maker of alliances, who has made an impact on the world around him. Unlike his hero, Tariq Ali has never been a Sultan, or a warrior, except a class one, of course. But between them-Ali and his warrior king-readers can discover much of both history and contemporary life in the melting pot of world religion.

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“Excessive fornication and the consumption of alcohol is not permitted by our Council. They believe that drink and carnality weakens our resolve and makes us vulnerable.

“I was betrayed by a Listener, who was in his cups and, unaware of the presence of the Master’s henchmen, was boasting wildly of our successes. I was not made aware of this till he was in prison suffering torture. Because of our method of organisation, he could only name me and two others.

“I am told the Grand Master was outraged when I was so named. He refused to believe that this could be true. Fortunately I was warned of all this by a Believer in the Grand Master’s entourage. I knew I was being observed and I broke off all contact with our people. After a few days, I was detained and subjected to five hours of continual question by the Grand Master. I denied all knowledge of the Council and expressed my full confidence in the Churches of Rome and Constantinople. I thought I had convinced them, since they released me. They appeared to stop following me and watching my every move.

“There were three other Perfecti in Jerusalem. We met one night and they advised me to leave and seek refuge in Cairo. I woke before sunrise the next morning, and was saddling my horse, when I was challenged by a knight. He had his own suspicions of me. He used a secret word which is only known to our sect. It was clear that he had obtained it by torturing the three Believers. It caught me unprepared and I responded before I could see his face in the dark. He drew his sword. I killed him, but not before he had marked my face. I rode like the wind, Your Majesty. If I had been caught, they would have killed me in the most ugly fashion.

“That is the end of my story, and I am now at the mercy of the great Sultan Salah al-Din, whose generosity is known to all the world.”

While Bertrand of Toulouse had been speaking only three faces had remained impassive. These belonged to the Sultan, Qara Kush and al-Fadil. As for the rest of the company, and here I must include myself, we had been actively exchanging glances. The description of the heresy had seen several hands going to their respective beards. These had been nervously stroked, as if to quell the agitation disturbing their owners’ heads.

“We have listened to you with great interest, Bertrand of Toulouse,” said the Sultan. “Are you prepared to be questioned by our scholars?”

“With great pleasure, Your Highness.”

It was the Kadi who asked the first question, this time in a honeyed voice.

“What the Church regards as your heresy is your opposition to the Holy Trinity and your hostility to icons. Our Prophet, too, did not favour the worship of icons or images. Have you ever studied the Koran? Do you know the message of our Prophet, peace be upon him?”

Bertrand of Toulouse did not flinch.

“One advantage you possess over all others is the impossibility for any person to doubt the existence of your Prophet. He was very real and, therefore, it is not possible to ascribe dual features to him. He lived. He married. He fathered children. He fought. He conquered. He died. His history is known. This magnificent city and all of you are one of the consequences of your Prophet’s remarkable vision.

“Of course I have studied the Koran, and there is much in it with which I agree, but, if I may speak frankly, it appears to me that your religion is too close to earthly pleasures. Because you realised that you could not live by the Book alone, you encouraged the invention of the hadith to help you govern the Empires you had gained. But is it not the case that many of these hadith contradict each other? Who decides what you believe?”

“We have scholars who work on nothing else but the hadith ,” replied the Sultan quickly. He did not want his Kadi to dominate the discussion. “As a young man I studied the hadith with great joy and care. I agree with you. They are open to many interpretations. That is why we have the ulema to ascertain the degree of their accuracy. We need them, Bertrand of Toulouse, we need them. Without these traditions, our religion could not be a complete code of existence.”

“Can any religion ever become a complete code of life when, within the ranks of the Believers, there is such disparity in interpretation? The followers of the Fatimid Caliphs, to take the most recent example, do not share your beliefs or those of the Caliph in Baghdad. The same applies to our religion or that of the Jews. He who rules, makes the rules.”

“You truly are a heretic, my friend,” laughed Salah al-Din, indicating that any of those present could speak to Bertrand if they so wished.

An old man, a much-respected scholar from al-Azhar, rose. He spoke in a weak and husky voice, barely above a whisper, but so great was his authority that everyone strained to hear each word.

“With the Sultan’s gracious permission, I would like to explain one fact to our visitor. The greatest fear that haunts each human being, regardless of his religion, is the fear of death. It is a fear which oppresses us all. Every time we bathe and enshroud a corpse, we see in it our own future. In the days of Ignorance, and long before even that, this fear was so strong that many people preferred not to accept death as real, but to see it as a journey to another world. Islam has broken this fear of death. That alone could be counted as one of our great achievements, for without breaking this fear we cannot move forward. We are held back. It was our Prophet who understood the importance of this question before all else. That is why, Bertrand of Toulouse, our soldiers reached the edge of this continent and the heart of yours. That is why nothing can stop this Sultan from taking al-Kuds, your so-called Kingdom of Jerusalem.”

Then Qara Kush spoke.

“With the Sultan’s permission, I would like to ask Bertrand of Toulouse a single question. What in your opinion, O brave knight, is the single most important difference between your beliefs and those of our Prophet?”

There was not a moment’s hesitation on Bertrand’s part.

“Fornication.”

There were several gasps amongst the scholars, but Salah al-Din smiled.

“Explain yourself, Bertrand of Toulouse.”

“Only at Your Majesty’s insistence. Ever since I came to these parts and learnt your language, I have been studying the hadith and also certain commentaries on the Koran. It appears to me that fornication, and the rules under which it should or should not take place, has occupied the Prophet and his followers a great deal. In your Koran, if my memory is correct, the sura entitled ‘The Cow’ overturns the traditional Arab taboo on coitus during fasting.

“Some of the hadith record the Prophet as saying that your Allah had preordained the share of every man’s copulation, which he will do as fate requires. Each indulgence is thus predestined. The old scholar has just explained that your religion has removed the fear of death from the minds of its adherents. Is this not, at least partially, related to your conception of the Paradiso? Your heaven is the most voluptuous of all. Are not your knights who fall while fighting the jihad promised the most delicious pleasures in heaven? Erections which last for eternity and an unlimited number of houris to choose from, while they sip from rivers heavy with wine. Your heaven removes all earthly prohibitions. In these circumstances, only a man who had lost possession of his senses would fear death. All this flows from the self-confidence of your Prophet. He was a man of few doubts. Is it not the case that when your Prophet died, his son-in-law Ali cried out — and here Your Highness will forgive me since I only know the words in Latin—‘ O propheta, O propheta, et in morte penis tuus coelum versus erectus est. ’”

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