On the third day of my work at the hospital as a doctor and assistant dealing with all the sick and wounded, word reached me that the governor of Mecca, the noble Lord Abu Numa, had arrived. When I looked around, I spotted an imposing figure, with a thick black beard, tall stature, and broad shoulders, coming in my direction, surrounded by his guard. He came over and greeted me, then leaned over to talk to me.
"May God reward you well for coming to the aid of these poor people. Ever since you arrived in Mecca, I have been hearing about your activities. As you know full well, this era of ours is fraught with problems. People in authority like me need the counsel of holy men of God who are loyal. It is even worse to cause a true scholar such as yourself problems than to disturb someone praying humbly to his God. My residence is always open to you, whenever you choose to visit."
He said all this with a spontaneous humility. He now left to resume his visit to the sick and inquire after their state of health, so I duly exchanged farewells with him.
Just before I went to sleep, I recalled the way in which the warden had sung the praises of the governor of Mecca and his senior sharifs. My first instinct, however, was not to forsake the protection of Ibn Khalas in Sabta in order to enter that of Abu Numa in Mecca, even though the latter was clearly more upright and morally sound than the former. My purpose in coming to Mecca had been spiritual; I had no desire whatsoever to get involved in politics and power games.
However, I had no time to refine or consider this instinct in any depth, so I decided to put it aside so that I could devote my attentions to my normal activities, they being the things that I really wanted to do: tending the sick from Iraq in tent-camps or hospital buildings; making my excursions to the mountains and valleys; and teaching an ever larger number of students. In addition to all that, there was also the time I spent in the gardens by the blessed stream of Solomon or in the cemetery at the Bab al-Mu'alla where the tombs of some important figures from the early period of Islam were to be found. Every time I heard that a group of pilgrims had arrived from Andalus and the Maghrib, I made every conceivable effort to get whatever news I could about both regions. Nothing I gleaned from such conversations suggested that there was any cause of joy or hope: Al-Murtada, one of the last would-be Almohads, was now essentially restricted to Marrakesh and a few of its surrounding territories. The Zanati Marinids, with their weak doctrinal background, were bolstering their dynasty with Abu Yusuf al-Mansur.* The overall collapse of Muslim power in Andalus now meant that the region around Granada and its functions was all that remained. Faced with the tyranny of the Nasrid dynasty and the hardships of daily existence, people were living a life of permanent fear. Power and authority lie only with the Creator, the Lord of mankind.
One day in the following year, I was rushed at noon to Governor Abu Numa's palace, with the urgent request that I treat the wounds that he had received during a surprise raid by some Bedouin in the desert outside Mecca. When I reached his bed and checked on his condition, I found that he was almost unconscious. His face was covered with bruises, making clear to me that he had some minor fractures at the front and back of his skull. I began my treatment by cleaning him up with water and powder. When he came round, blinked his eyelids, and started breathing a bit more normally, I asked the servants to bring me some materials that I specified. I made a gypsum cast and placed it on his bald head, my hope being that after a while it would help the bones to reknit. That done, I decided to return to my residence, but I instructed the chamberlain that it was essential that his master have complete rest for seven whole days.
How can I possibly avoid expressing my admiration for the way Abu Numa behaved so modestly with people and took good care of the poor and sick, not to mention the way he insisted on giving them a model of behavior by showing bravery and initiative in conflict? Such a leader certainly has no comparable figure in Andalus today, which is ruled by pathetic cowards?
A week later I decided to go back to the palace and check on his condition. He received me in his council chamber at once, and with a warmth that drew the attention of his chamberlain and aides. He started expressing his enormous gratitude to me, while I accepted his words with what I hoped was the appropriate level of humility. He pointed to the cast on his head.
"So, holy man of God," he said with a smile, "I've done nothing for a week as you advised. When are you going to rid me of this helmet?"
"Not until it's done its work and I've checked on you, Sir," I replied. "I'd say, a least a month."
"A month or more! No, my brother, please take pity on me, and bear in mind the number of responsibilities I have."
"There's nothing to stop you working, provided that you support the cast with a turban or hat of some kind. You will still need to avoid any situation that involves tension, worry, riding horses, and fighting."
The governor looked down for a moment, then asked his retinue to leave.
"What you advise is obviously the wise thing to do," he said. "May God never disable your right hand! Your counsel is worth more to me than refined gold. I do wish you would give me your advice on other things too; at the top of the list, religion, politics, and strategy. So now Baghdad has been destroyed by the Mongols, and the Abbasid caliphate is breathing its last. If we decide to ally ourselves with the Mamluks as a way of getting rid of the Tatar menace, are we liable to be moving out of the frying pan into the fire? Or, beloved of God, do you have some other way of looking at it?"
I got the clear impression that the governor knew the correct answer full well, but his question was a way of testing my knowledge of politics and recent events.
"May God support you with His knowledge, Sir," I replied. "The steel of Mamluk power is the only force that is able to confront the Mongols. Their leader, Al-Muzaffar Sayf al-Din Qutuz,* and his peer, General Al-Zahir Rukn alDin Baybars,* have given us sufficient evidence of their ability to defend Islam's interests and territories. In that way, they are the contemporary replica of the Seljuk* and Ayyubid forces in times past. If we are to confront the dangers posed by Hulagu Khan and his hordes, we have no choice but to rely on the Mamluks. Quite apart from the basic logic of that decision, the entire matter rests on the principle that any decision has to be based on what is reckoned the most appropriate, that being a governing principle even when the person involved is a manumitted slave. The same thought occurs in the sermon that Muhammad, our Prophet-prayers and blessings upon him-delivered on his farewell pilgrimage [632 CE]: `No Arabic speaker has precedence over a non-Arabic speaker; no white person has precedence over a black. Precedence can only be based on belief in God.' There are many similar references to be found in the Qur'an, the text of all texts, and in other source works."
I noticed that my interlocutor was looking very tired. Suggesting that he needed to pray and get some rest, I asked his permission to leave and departed with expressions of support and prayers for his continuing recovery.
Just before the end of the first week of Rajab, Yasir the warden handed me a letter from my beloved friend Al-Shushtari, which he in turn had received from a Fez merchant on his way to the Hijaz and Syria. After reading it, I felt relieved and happy. The writer was able to reassure me about the health and safety of my wife and Hamada, who were both in Tangier. Al-Shushtari told me that he himself hoped to be with me, God willing, fairly soon. That afternoon, just after the prayer, I received a visit from Sitt Umama, accompanied by the warden. I shared with them my delight at the news in the letter I had received, and they both shared my feelings and blessed my good fortune. My servant, Ghaylan, meanwhile, was making it his job to provide our table with all kinds of food and drink. I asked the lady how she was feeling, and she replied that, thank God, she was well, almost as if the contagion of my own happiness and well-being had spread to her as well. We then started a discussion of divine love as seen by Rabi'a al'Adawiyya, and of self-obliteration and permanence in the career of Al-Hallaj. As the hour for sunset prayer drew close, she bade me farewell, much affected by our discussion. I hurried to the sacred enclosure to do my ablutions and pray.