"But now I wish to apply it in a more general frame of reference. Make sure that you neither ignore nor forget those brilliant flashes along the thorny paths of life or those moments of illumination during the darkest of nights. They are all like gleaming pearls, even if the necklace they are on is broken and in shreds. I charge you to study and remember some of the luminaries of the Umawi Caliphate in this Spain of ours, countenances of rare splendor, hearts open and wide: my personal favorites are `Abd al-Rahman III* (the conqueror) and his successor, al-Hakam al-Mustansir.* Pay particular attention to the ways these two mighty caliphs involved themselves in matters of cultural education, in the establishment of well-grounded intellectual movements, and also in military defense. Study their deeds and internalize them, not so that you can show off and play games of one-upmanship, but rather to make yourselves fully cognizant of the lofty reaches of the mind that were possible such a short time ago and the training of both mind and body that needs to be recovered if we are to rediscover them in this age of ours. The only way that we will manage to convert all the accumulated negative features of our society into something positive, productive, and forward-looking is by embarking upon the program that I have just outlined and underscored as being the correct way forward."
"Enhancing capacities," a number of voices shouted at this point, "by discarding niceties, then removing all roadblocks on the way, so that it becomes possible to ascend the stairs that lead to the Creator."
"God willing," I said by way of closure, "I will continue discussing these ideas in the mosque."
"After today," Amr yelled by way of warning, then in a softer tone, "no more prayers in the mosque. The fanatics have turned God's house into a boxing ring. The wounds I've received should be testimony enough to what a thug and a policeman were able to do. You, Master, are very dear to us. It would be more than we could stand if you were to suffer any harm as a consequence of an attack aimed at you by a hired criminal or a deranged lunatic."
At this point I seized an opportunity to express my heartfelt thanks to 'Amr, who had managed to ward off an attack on my person. We were now interrupted by a loud knock on the door, followed by a noisy argument between Salman and the people knocking. When I got up to investigate the situation, I discovered two policemen at the door, demanding that I hand over Amr from Cordoba who was required to appear before the chief of police. I asked them why, and they informed me that on that very day he had attacked a policeman in front of several witnesses who had been at prayer. Was I now supposed to deny that `Amr was present in this house, or rather should I refuse to hand him over on the pretext that he was under my protection? I had made up my mind to adopt the latter strategy, but 'Abd al and his companions quickly surrounded the two policemen.
"We're prepared to testify," they said, "that it was the complainant who had struck the first blow."
"One evil begets another," I commented, "and it is the initiator who is more at fault."
The two policemen now demanded to search the house for the assailant, but I refused. I demanded that they bring me an official search warrant. The two policemen now had no choice but to leave, which they did under the threatening gaze of the students. They then told me that 'Amr had managed to get away over the roof of my house. They now insisted that I lock my door till they came back. Meanwhile they would try to find out more details.
Acting on their advice, I told Salman not to open the door to anyone whose voice he did not recognize. With that I asked him to uncover my back and dress my wounds.
9
SHOULD I SAY THAT, where my devotion to the quest for the very heights is involved, I entertain some peculiar, indeed twisted ideas? In my peers' opinion, it all comes down to a matter of courage. As the great Sufi writer al-Niffari* puts it, "In taking risks lies a portion of the path to salvation."
Whatever the case may be, I thought it best to continue my search for the missing manuscript and see the process through to its conclusion: either hope and relief, or else surrender and despair. How could I possibly not make one last effort when the sole initiative that I had left involved my Muslim lover, Qatr al-Nada?
This woman was slim, delicate, and svelte, so much so that she seemed-God be exalted! — as light as a feather. Even so she managed to exude a lofty spirituality whose music emerged from every single pore in her body, an effect that would induce in all those who sat with her refreshing effects that proved incredibly provocative.
Her husband was a financier and a total braggart, crude and cantankerous, debauched in his conduct and utterly undistinguished. When it came to sheer ignorance of things, he was a past master.
On their honeymoon he had mustered enough deception to tell her, "My beloved, for me you are guaranteed value, a winning throw of the dice. You represent profit and profitability."
However, no sooner was the honeymoon over than he showed himself in his true colors: a pathological rogue, sadistically violent. How else can you explain the conduct of a person whose married life only managed to provide any kind of validity or pleasure when he was eating and drinking to excess? All of which led him to emit gasses whose foul stench was accompanied by gross belching and farting and loud guffaws. The entire occasion would be replete with disgusting comments, such as "Shit and shit again on all Muslims in Spain. I shall convert to Christianity before they're all expelled…"
While this beast was sitting in the midst of his pals, he would talk about his wife. "One day I'll get to send this supposed woman off to the next world," he would note. "No doubt, I'll get to write on her coffin, `Watch out for this one; she comes very cheap."'
Qatr al-Nada's father was a copyist, well versed in reference works. A friendship developed between the two of us, one based on love and mutual respect since both of us loved books and manuscripts. He was a devout and virtuous man, magnanimous and fair-minded. The only things that disturbed the calm tenor of his life were the miserable state of the Muslims in Spain and the wretched married life that his only daughter had to endure. Whenever he spoke to me about these matters, tears always came to his eyes and dripped on to his white bushy beard. One day he astonished me by telling me that, when his son-in-law was deciding from among a list of names whom to choose to act as mediator between himself and his wife, he wanted only me. I had no idea why he had chosen me until Qatr al-Nada told me that he had made his decision by a toss of the dice, and that was it.
In any case I now spent an entire month making laudable efforts to reconcile the married couple with each other. The meetings involving the three of us were usually twice a week, but by exception there could also be other ones if tensions rose because the husband had lost his temper. He would often give his wife a terrible thrashing, then claim that he had summoned me to come but I had not done so. When my patience finally wore out, I suggested to him that he respond to the injured woman's wishes by agreeing to give her an amicable divorce. That made him furious, and he swore a terrible oath that he would never do that. Indeed he went even further and accused me of wanting to take Qatr al-Nada away from him. I decided to abandon the effort and withdraw. Soon afterward, the woman's father died in pain after suffering a heart attack-verily we are God's and to Him do we return.