This subject was also a source of great amazement for ibn Tahir. It was new to him, and he couldn’t figure out why it was necessary to study it.
Bowing and smiling, the Greek left them, and dai Ibrahim appeared before the novices once again. A deathly silence prevailed, and ibn Tahir could sense that their next subject was an important one.
This time dai Ibrahim taught them Ismaili doctrine. He would pose a question and then point his finger at the novice who had to answer it. The questions and answers followed in rapid succession, short and abrupt.
Ibn Tahir listened intently.
“What are the peris?”
“The peris are evil female spirits who ruled the world before Zarathustra banished them to the underworld.”
“Who was Zarathustra?”
“Zarathustra was a false prophet and fire worshipper, banished by Mohammed to dwell among the demons.”
“Where do the demons dwell?”
“In Mount Demavend.”
“How do they show themselves?”
“By the smoke that comes out of the mountain.”
“How else?”
“And by the wailing voices we can hear coming from there.”
“Who are the Seljuks?”
“The Seljuks are Turks who came storming in from Gog and Magog to seize power over Iran.”
“What is their nature?”
“They have a dual nature—half human and half demon.”
“Why?”
“Dævas, or evil spirits, mated with human women, who then gave birth to the Seljuks.”
“Why did the Seljuks adopt Islam?”
“To disguise their true nature.”
“What are their intentions?”
“To obliterate Islam and establish the rule of demons on earth.”
“How do we know that?”
“Because they support the false caliph in Baghdad.”
“Who is the most bitter enemy of the Ismailis in Iran?”
“The sultan’s grand vizier, Nizam al-Mulk.”
“Why is he a sworn enemy of the one true teaching?”
“Because he is an apostate.”
“What is his most blasphemous crime?”
“His most blasphemous crime was to offer ten thousand gold pieces for the head of Our Master.”
Ibn Tahir shuddered. It was true, the grand vizier was a criminal who had ordered his grandfather Tahir beheaded. And now he had set his sights on the Ismaili supreme commander himself.
Through these questions and answers, dai Ibrahim reviewed the material he had presented so far. Then with a wave of his hand he gave the sign that he would now continue lecturing. Quickly the novices set their tablets on their knees and prepared their writing implements. Posing questions and then answering them himself, dai Ibrahim began dictating the nature of the power granted to the supreme commander of the Ismailis.
In amazement ibn Tahir wrote everything down.
“Who gave Sayyiduna power over the faithful? The Egyptian caliph Mustansir indirectly, and Allah directly.
“What is the nature of this power? This power is of a dual nature, natural and supernatural.
“What is his natural power? That he is the master over life and death of all Ismailis in Iran.
“What is his supernatural power? He has the ability and right to send anyone he wants to paradise.
“Why is Sayyiduna the most powerful of all men who have ever lived on earth? Because Allah has given him the key that unlocks the gate to paradise.”
The fourth prayer marked the end of the school day. The novices gathered on the roof to review what they had learned that day. A lively debate developed around ibn Tahir.
“What I saw and heard in Abdul Malik’s lesson is clear to me,” he said. “But I don’t understand what dai Ibrahim meant by the maxim that Allah had given Sayyiduna the key to the gate of paradise.”
“What is there to wonder about here?” Yusuf spoke up. “That’s what Sayyiduna teaches and our duty is to believe it.”
“Fine, but I just don’t understand whether we’re supposed to take it literally or see it as some kind of parable,” ibn Tahir continued to probe.
“A parable?!” Yusuf lost his temper. “That’s how it’s been said and how we’re supposed to take it.”
“Then that would mean a new miracle has taken place,” ibn Tahir persisted.
“Why shouldn’t it have?” Yusuf said.
“Why shouldn’t it have?” ibn Tahir replied. “Because the Prophet said explicitly that miracles occurred only in ancient times. He disallowed them during his own reign and afterwards.”
Yusuf didn’t know how to respond.
Then Jafar spoke. “We don’t need to see a miracle in the fact that Allah gave Sayyiduna the key to paradise. After all, even the Prophet didn’t view his journey to heaven with the archangel Gabriel as a miracle.”
“All right, then let’s assume that Sayyiduna was just the recipient of Allah’s special favor,” Ibn Tahir continued. “That still leaves the question of when, where and in what manner Allah granted Our Master the key to the gate of paradise.”
“Allah appeared to Sayyiduna in the form of a burning bush or a pillar of smoke,” Suleiman suggested, “the way he appeared to the earlier prophets. He could have given him the key that way, like he gave Moses the tables of the law on Mount Sinai.”
“I can picture all of that,” ibn Tahir said, growing more and more impassioned. “I just can’t accept that we live alongside such a glorious and powerful prophet.”
“Maybe you don’t feel worthy?” Suleiman said with a smile. “In what way are we any worse than people of earlier times?”
Ibn Tahir glanced around him in distress. He saw faces that expressed extreme religious fervor. No, they couldn’t understand what was perplexing him so much and forcing him to doubt.
“I think what’s more likely than Suleiman’s conjecture,” Jafar offered, “is that Allah sent some angel to take Sayyiduna to heaven. There Allah could have easily handed him the key to paradise.”
“One way or the other,” ibn Tahir summarized, “the question now is what is the nature of this key. Because we have to assume that neither Allah, nor paradise, nor any of the things in it are made of the same substance as our world. So how is it possible that there is an object among us, here on earth, that’s made of the substance of the other world? Could we perceive it with our senses? And if we could, would it still be a heavenly object?”
“You ask an excellent question, grandson of Tahir,” Yusuf brightened, rubbing his hands in satisfaction.
“If you ask me, this discussion has gone beyond what’s allowed,” Naim warned.
“Who asked you, cricket?” said Suleiman, drowning him out. “As though we cared what you think.”
“In the Koran it’s written,” said Jafar, “that after death the righteous will partake of heaven and its joys in forms that are similar to those on earth. The blessed will have the same senses they had in this world, and the same pleasures. Seen that way, objects in the other world won’t differ much from objects here. And so the substance that the key to paradise is made of could resemble the substance of earthly things.”
Obeida had listened attentively and in silence the entire time and now was smiling slyly.
“I’ve got a good explanation that could clear up this whole riddle of Allah’s key,” he said. “We’ve heard that this key opens the gate to paradise and that it’s in the possession of Sayyiduna, who lives among us, on earth. So this key opens the gate to paradise from the outside, from earth’s side. That means that, regardless of the nature of paradise, Sayyiduna’s key opens the gate from earth, so it has to be made of an earthly substance.”
“You’ve hit on it perfectly!” Yusuf exclaimed.
“An elegant explanation,” ibn Tahir consented.
“Obeida is as cunning as a lynx,” Suleiman laughed.