The Islam Quintet

by Tariq Ali

  The Sultan frowned at the frivolity.

  “Better you eat it on his birthday rather than to mark the day he died. I saw him die and it was a painful sight. Mimic his capacities as a great leader of men and a fighter of tremendous spirit, but avoid his vices. All our great men of medicine have warned against over-indulgence on any front.”

  Salah al-Din’s annoyance sobered his nephews. They bowed their heads to acknowledge his warning. The rest of the meal was virtually silent, but after the food had been cleared and mint tea served, I realised that this was not a casual gathering. As he prepared to speak, the Sultan indicated that I should ready my pen.

  “What I say about the sons of my dead brother, Taki al-Din and Farrukh Shah, I wish to say in their presence. I feel closer to these two men than anyone else in my family. They are not just my nephews, but also two of my ablest generals.

  “My own sons are young, and if anything were to happen to me I would expect Taki al-Din and Farrukh Shah to protect my children from the vultures that will start circling the cities we have made our own. If I die soon, I want Taki al-Din to sit in Cairo and Farrukh Shah to rule Damascus. The other places should be divided amongst my brothers and their children, but Damascus and Cairo are the real jewels of our kingdom. Without them we are reduced to nothing. They are the cities which will enable us to drive out the Franj.

  “For almost ninety years, the Franj have been prowling on our lands like wild beasts. Few, if any, now remember a time when they were not here. When they first arrived we were unprepared. We panicked. We betrayed each other for gain. Later we made alliances with the Franj against our own brethren. Sultan Zengi and the great Sultan Nur al-Din understood that the only way to drive out the Franj was to unite ourselves. As is known this unity does not come without the sacrifice of much blood.

  “Look at the situation today. The Franj still occupy many towns near the sea as well as al-Kuds. I want to divide our armies into three carefully organised, well-knit instruments under the command of myself and my two brave nephews. I will concentrate on taking either Aleppo or Mosul, though preferably both. That will make us the mightiest power in these our lands. At the same time I want you, Taki al-Din, to strike at the heart of the Franj in Palestine. Let them think that this is part of a big push to take al-Kuds, their beloved Kingdom of Jerusalem. Inflict defeats, but do not delay too long in one place. Strike fear in their hearts. I want them fully preoccupied so that they have no time to even think of helping our enemies in Aleppo and Mosul.

  “Farrukh Shah, you will stay here and guard this city and its borders with your life. I have received reports of your extravagant style and your propensity to leave the treasury depleted. I never wish to hear any such complaint again. Your father and grandfather were men of simple tastes. I have learnt that to win the respect of the people and, in particular, our soldiers, one must learn to eat and dress like them. We are the lawgivers, Farrukh Shah. We must observe each law and set an example. I hope I have made myself clear. Never forget that even though we rule, we are still seen as outsiders. It is only now that the Arabs are beginning to accept me as their Sultan. The future of our family depends on how you behave and how you rule. Never forget that a man is what he does.

  “If you hear that the Franj are sending exploratory expeditions to test our defences, go out and crush them. We will talk again tomorrow, but make preparations for our departure within a week.

  “Our destination must be kept a secret. I do not wish you to even tell your wives where we are headed. If people ask, reply: ‘The Sultan is still making up his mind.’ If, in my absence, which I hope will be brief, Damascus is seriously threatened, inform me without delay. We must never lose this city. Go now and rest. I wish to speak with Ibn Yakub on my own.”

  The nephews, chastened by the Sultan’s words, bent and kissed their uncle in turn on both cheeks. He rose to his feet and hugged them both. They shook hands with me and departed.

  “I wanted you to come with me, Ibn Yakub, but I am worried by Shadhi’s health. He has always accompanied me on my campaigns, but, as you can see, he is getting older and frailer by the day. Any day now Allah could summon him to heaven. He is my only link with the older generation. All the others have gone. He is, after all, as you know, my grandfather’s son. I have such happy memories of him. He was a great influence on my youth and I have always relied on him a great deal. Allah has blessed me with good and strong advisers, men like al-Fadil and Imad al-Din. No Sultan could ask for more, but even they find it difficult sometimes to resist some of my more irrational decisions.

  “Shadhi alone never fears to speak the truth and call me an obstinate ass and talk me out of some foolish notion that had entered my head. Shadhi is not a scholar, but he has a strong instinct for what is right or wrong in the field of politics and of war.

  “There are times in our lives, Ibn Yakub, when we are unhappy in love or sad because a dear friend has been killed in a battle or we have lost our favourite steed. At times like this, when we feel we are on the edge of an abyss, harebrained advisers and sycophants can unwittingly push us over the edge. Men like Shadhi never permit that to happen. These are men of great integrity and our world, alas, has too few like them. Shadhi has saved me from myself on more than one occasion. That is why he has meant more to me than even my parents.

  “You’re surprised to hear me speak like this, and you’re wondering why I do so, since Shadhi is still with us and recovering from the journey and might outlive us all. I used to think like you, but something very deep inside me is warning me that I will be far away when Shadhi dies. The thought upsets me greatly, Ibn Yakub. I know how much he respects and likes you and for that reason I am not taking you with me. It will make my decision not to take him much easier for him to bear if you are with him. Do you understand?”

  I nodded.

  “I want him to rest. I have directed Amjad, the eunuch who earlier brought you my message, to make sure that Shadhi never wants for anything while I am away. Amjad answers to me and nobody else.

  “Shadhi and Farrukh Shah are not close. Why? Because Shadhi’s tongue is no respecter of persons who, in his opinion, are not behaving as he thinks they ought to, and in the past he has subjected Farrukh Shah, who is not a bad person, to a very severe lashing with his tongue. It was in the presence of other emirs, and his pride suffered a blow. Farrukh complained bitterly to me, but what could I do? Can you imagine me reprimanding Shadhi? The problem is that Farrukh has still not forgotten the insult. I’m sure he will do nothing to hurt Shadhi, but that is besides the point. What the old man needs at this time is friends and a great deal of attention.

  “I hope my fears are misplaced. I pray that when Allah brings me back to Damascus, Shadhi will still be here with detailed information on the mistakes I made during the campaign, which Imad al-Din will have reported to both him and you.

  “Perhaps what is also worrying me is not just Shadhi’s death, but my own. Till now Allah has been kind to me. I have escaped death on several occasions, but if you lead an army into war as frequently as I do, and my person is the main target of the enemy, then it is only a matter of time before an arrow pierces my heart or a sword cracks my skull. I am feeling a little bit fragile, Ibn Yakub. I want you to know that your family is well looked after in Cairo, and I have left instructions for you to be paid regularly while you are here. After we achieve our objective, and Allah has spared me, I will present you with a tiny fief outside your beloved Jerusalem. If I fall, I have left instructions with al-Fadil and Imad al-Din that you are to be given a village wherever you desire.”

  To my surprise I felt tears roll down my cheeks. The Sultan’s generosity was no secret, but I was simply a lowly scribe. I was overwhelmed by his giving thought to my future as well. When I rose to take my leave of him, he rose too and embraced me, whispering in my ear a last command.

  “Keep the old man alive.”

  NINETEEN

  Shadhi presides over the circumcision ceremony of Hal
ima’s son; the death of Farrukh Shah

  THE SULTAN HAD BEEN gone just over three weeks. It was the height of summer. Damascus had become unbearably hot. Every creature, human or animal, was constantly in search of shade and water. It was on one such day that Amjad the eunuch came rushing to my quarters in the early afternoon and disturbed my sleep. He was smiling as he woke me up to announce that the Sultana Jamila had summoned me. I had not seen either her or Halima since our arrival. I thought of them often, but felt that perhaps the reason for this was the stricter social rules that operated in Damascus, which was less open than Cairo.

  Still feeling drowsy, I followed Amjad blindly to the harem. Halima had given birth to Salah al-Din’s son. Naturally I did not see her, but was led to an antechamber where Shadhi, watched by Jamila, was reciting the qalima in the ear of the newborn babe. The infant was carried by a wet-nurse, a slave girl of incredible beauty, who I had not seen before. The child was named Asad al-Din ibn Yusuf. This was the Sultan’s tenth son, and Shadhi’s instinctive ribaldry led him to offer a prayer to Allah to control the Sultan’s seed, lest the weeds outnumber the flowers. Jamila laughed loudly, and whispered her agreement to the old man.

  Shadhi was still in excellent spirits three days later, after the circumcision ceremony. He appeared to have recovered completely from his recent fatigue. The local emirs and Farrukh Shah were the new targets of his lacerating wit. It was difficult not to laugh out loud and draw attention. Shadhi’s hatreds were always pure and usually justified, but there were times when I did worry that there were many tale-carriers in the citadel who would like nothing better than to please a master by informing on Shadhi. When I shared my apprehensions with him he chuckled, and refused to take me seriously.

  One reason for his anger was the fact that, like me, he was excluded from the innermost councils of the court. This was hard for him to tolerate, given his closeness to his nephew. Both of us felt the absence of the Sultan. It was strange being without him. I was surprised at the intensity of my own feelings. I had been in his service for only five years. How much more aggrieved must Shadhi have felt at being deprived of his traditional place, close to the Sultan in war and in peace. Habits and routines are hard to dislodge from one’s system. Sometimes I found myself wandering thoughtlessly and in a semi-daze to the Sultan’s chamber and then making my way slowly back to my own, almost as if I were a loyal dog left behind by an uncaring master.

  In recent years, in very different ways, our lives had revolved so completely around the person of Salah al-Din that it was difficult to accept that he was not present here in the citadel, and that we were not by his side wherever he happened to be.

  “It is that peacock on heat, Imad al-Din, who must be writing all the Sultan’s dispatches,” Shadhi muttered one day. “Why don’t you ride out and join Salah al-Din? You can tell him I forced you to leave Damascus. You can also tell him that Allah has restored my health, and I don’t need you by my side waiting for death to strike.”

  This was a difficult order. Salah al-Din’s movements were still unclear. Even if one knew where he was, it was perfectly possibly that he would be somewhere completely different by the time one reached him. We had not received news for some weeks. Neither pigeon nor courier had arrived, and Farrukh Shah was slightly concerned. Other reports of Franj activity, not far from Damascus, had been received two days ago. Even as Shadhi and I were talking, an attendant summoned us to Farrukh Shah’s presence. He had returned earlier that day from a skirmish with a small group of Franj knights about half an hour away from Damascus.

  Farrukh Shah was not the most intelligent of rulers, but his generosity and courage were well known. Imad al-Din’s complaints regarding his extravagance were not exaggerated, but they underplayed the fact that little of the money was spent on himself. He rewarded loyalty, and in this he was not unlike his uncle, except that Salah al-Din’s austere tastes and habits were so well known that even the poorest of the poor never believed that he spent much on himself. Some rulers are motivated by artistic pursuits, others are addicted to hedonism, others still to the pursuit of riches as an end in themselves. The Sultan was only concerned with the well-being of others.

  It was a moonlit sky as we crossed the ramparts to the audience chamber. We had been excluded from it ever since the departure of Salah al-Din. The emirs were already gathered as we entered. I bowed to Farrukh Shah, who looked exhausted, as if he hadn’t slept for many days. Shadhi glared at the Sultan’s nephew, who ignored the old man completely, but he came and welcomed me with a display of real warmth.

  “I’m glad you could come, Ibn Yakub. A letter has just arrived from my uncle, and we are instructed that you and old man Shadhi are to be invited when it is read to the council.”

  I bowed again to thank him. Shadhi sniffed loudly and swallowed his phlegm. One of the younger court scribes, a pretty, fair-skinned boy with golden hair and curled eyelashes, probably no more than eighteen years of age, had been selected to read the letter.

  “Look at this shameless hussy,” whispered Shadhi, looking at the scribe. “He’s probably just walked here from Farrukh Shah’s bed, and he’s still busy making eyes at him.”

  I frowned at my old friend, hoping to control his bitterness, but he grinned at me defiantly.

  The boy spoke in a cracked voice.

  “Castrated,” muttered Shadhi.

  “Silence!” shouted Farrukh Shah. “Silence when a letter from our Sultan Salah al-Din ibn Ayyub is being read to the court.”

  The scribe began to speak, at first with a certain nervousness, but then, as Imad al-Din’s prose gathered its own momentum, with much greater confidence.

  “This letter is addressed to my dear nephew Farrukh Shah and all our loyal emirs of Damascus. We are outside Aleppo and desirous, as ever, of avoiding the unpleasant sight of Believer killing Believer, I have offered the emirs an honourable truce, provided we occupy the citadel. I am not sure that they possess the intelligence to appreciate our generosity.

  “One of them rode out to meet us yesterday. He was full of flowery words and grand flourishes, hoping to flatter me into withdrawal, offering me untold treasures and swearing eternal loyalty to us on the Koran. ‘We are your friends, O great Sultan, and we will be at your side on that day which is about to come, the day when you take al-Kuds and drive the Franj out of our lands.’

  “These fine words made no impact on me, since only three days previously our spies had reported that the nobles of Aleppo had sent urgent messages to the Franj and the hashishin in the mountains, offering them money if they could keep me out of the city.

  “I replied to him as follows: ‘You claim to be my friend. For me friendship is a sacred trust, Acred, but tell me something: who are your enemies? Name your real enemies and I will name your friends. For me friendship means, above all, common animosities. Do you agree?’

  “The fool nodded. At this point I showed him a copy of the letter his master had sent to the Franj. He began to sweat and tremble, but I contained my anger. Shadhi, bless his heart, would have advised sending this rogue’s severed head back to Aleppo, and I was greatly tempted, but I rose above my anger. Anger is never a good emotion when one is determining a higher strategy. We sent the Emir back to Aleppo with a severe warning that, if they persisted in their defiance, then I would have no alternative but to take their city by storm. I warned them not to imagine that, in these circumstances, all their citizens would rush to defend them.

  “We wanted to send you a dispatch after the armies of Mosul, backed by their allies, decided to meet us on the plain of Harzim, just below Mardin, but we waited for them in vain. They may have advanced like men, but they vanished like women. We were tempted to chase them, but instead I decided to isolate them completely from the neighbouring towns.

  “Two days ago we took the city of al-Amadiyah, without too much resistance, though too much time was taken by our soldiers in piercing the massive black basalt walls. This was a pleasurable victory because of t
he surprising treasures contained in the city. We have, as a result of this victory, succeeded in capturing many weapons, enough to create two new armies. Both al-Fadil, who was here for the siege, and Imad al-Din, were interested only in the library, which contained a million volumes. These were loaded on seventy camels and are, even as I write, making their way to Damascus. Ibn Yakub should be placed in charge of ensuring that they are placed safely in our library till Imad al-Din returns. They include three copies of the Koran which date to the time of the Caliph Omar.

  “The Franj will not be able to resist their offer, and that is the main reason for this letter. The aim of the Franj will be to prevent me from assembling a large army. I think they will attempt a diversion in both Damascus and Cairo. If my instincts are justified then you need to forestall such a move by taking the offensive.

  “You have done well, Farrukh Shah. I have detailed reports of your recent victories, but we need Aleppo and Mosul under our control if the Franj are to be dislodged from our world and returned over the sea to their own.

  “Tomorrow we march back to Aleppo. The mountain air has done us all much good and has dispelled our tiredness. The soldiers know that the sun in the plains will be like the fires of Hell, but our Heaven will be Aleppo. It will take us fifteen days to reach it and, Allah willing, we shall take the city this time. Only then will I return to Dimask to make our final preparations for the jihad. Be on your guard against surprise attacks by the Franj.”

  The chamberlain indicated that the meeting was over, and as Shadhi and I rose to leave the chamber, we bowed in the direction of Farrukh Shah. But there was something wrong, and suddenly his attendants, too, realised that he had fainted. The room was cleared, and the physicians summoned. It is to the credit of all the emirs present that there was no sense of fear or panic, of the kind which usually accompanies the illness of a ruler. Perhaps this was due to the fact that Farrukh Shah was not a Sultan, but acting on his behalf.