“How did the Muslims fare in this?” the Sage Ptahhotep inquired.
“They suffered as we did,” answered al-Aswani. “They grew so extremely bitter that they accused the governor of violating the sharia, the sacred law. Regardless of our religious differences, our feelings were united, but those in power were stronger than all of us together.”
“If you had all adopted the faith of the One God, then that would have saved you,” claimed Akhenaten.
“The problem was one of bread, not of God,” Abnum corrected him.
“Perhaps you will find justice in your final trial,” Osiris consoled him.
48
HORUS CALLED OUT, “Sulayman Tadros!”
A thickset man of medium height came in, walking until he stood before the throne.
Osiris asked him to speak.
“A skilled engraver,” said Sulayman Tadros, “I lived through the rule of four caliphs: al-Mahdi, al-Hadi, al-Rashid, and al-Ma’mun. And tens of governors all in a row, most of them conquered by wantonness, bribery, and oppressiveness. In their day, numerous uprisings broke out, and in some of them the Copts — the native Egyptians — both Christian and Muslim, and the Arabs, would all unite against the persecution, cooperating with each other to drive it out. Finally, al-Ma’mun himself came to restore order, and justice prevailed. Conditions improved for all the people, whatever their religion.”
“Did you join any revolutions?” asked Abnum.
“No, but I lost a son in one of them,” Sulayman Tadros replied.
“Seemingly, things were moving in a new track,” said the Sage Ptahhotop.
“You truly deserve our empathy,” said Osiris. “Go to your final trial in peace.”
49
HORUS HERALDED, “Musa, secretary to Ahmad ibn Tulun!”
A tallish man came in and stood before the throne.
Osiris invited him to speak.
“A Christian Copt,” commenced Musa, “The Lord granted me knowledge and skill, and the viceroy, Ahmad ibn Tulun, chose me as his private secretary. He was not an Arab, but was appointed in the caliphate of al-Muatamid ibn al-Mutawakkil. Thereafter he sought to solidify his own rule of the country. It was not only as though Egypt had regained her independence, but had annexed Syria and parts of Asia Minor, as well. He resolutely strove for reform and development, while upholding piety and justice, spreading his protective umbrella over the Muslims, Christians, and Jews alike — they all extolled his praise. He would sit for two days each week with those who had been wronged, just as in the days of the Right-Guided Caliphs.
“That is why, when Ibn Tulun fell very ill, everyone came out to the top of the Muqattam Mountain. The Muslims brought their Qur’an, the Christians their Gospels, and the Jews their Torah, all praying for his recovery!”
“Did the Coptic Christians profit by working for the governor?” asked the Sage Ptahhotep.
“His choosing me proved that he believed in religious equality,” answered Musa. “So sure was I that he did believe in it, that even when I proposed Christian engineers to build his mosques and fortresses, I was looking for the right people, not playing favorites. The just ruler will extract the best from his helpers, and be an example to them.”
“And how were the relations between the sects?” asked the wise Imhotep, vizier to King Djoser.
“Very good indeed, as is only appropriate in the reign of a fair-minded ruler,” said “During Ibn Tulun’s rule, Egypt became one single people, but of three religions. And Islam began to spread more, and to gain more converts.”
Thoth, Scribe of the Gods, sought permission to pose a question — and it was granted. “Why did Ibn Tulun imprison Patriarch Michael of Alexandria?” he asked Musa.
“That was not his fault,” Musa replied, “but a plot by a malicious archbishop named Sakka, who told Ibn Tulun that the patriarch was hoarding enormous wealth, far beyond his needs. So Ibn Tulun demanded that Michael give up part of his treasure at a time when the viceroy was girding to fight off foreign armies. When the patriarch said that he did not have such sums to give, he was arrested on a charge of treason. But then Ibn Tulun’s son, Khumarawayh, succeeded him: he discovered the truth and set Michael free, and brought him back to his post with honors.
“But the heirs of Ibn Tulun were neither as strong nor as iron-willed as him. Fortune turned against their state, and Egypt again looked to the future with anxious eyes.”
“You have presented a splendid account,” Osiris told him. “May peace go with you.”
50
HORUS HAILED, “Ali Sundus!”
A powerfully built man of middling height walked in, halting before the throne.
Osiris asked him to speak.
“A water carrier, I lived most of my life under the Ikhshidid rulers,” Ali Sundus told the court. “Egypt had gone back to the fold of the Abbasids — and again, scores of viceroys came and went in succession, each inflicting injustices upon the Egyptians, whether Christians or Muslims. Finally, Muhammad al-Utfayh, a Mamluk descended from the kings of Farghana, took up our affairs. He made Egypt independent, and called himself ‘the Ikhshid,’ the customary title among the kings in his country. He drove away those who had designs on Egypt, and in each of his campaigns, urged the Christians to fight alongside him.
“Then power passed to his vizier, the eunuch Kafur, who called himself ‘al-Ikhshidi’ too. During his reign, Egypt possessed both the Hijaz and Syria. He purged the land of corrupt officials, and the nation flourished under his rule.”
“How could you tolerate being ruled by a castrated slave?” said Ramesses II.
“All that mattered to us as Muslims,” replied Ali Sundus, “is that he was a fair servant. A just slave is better than an oppressive prince.”
“And just how does a slave surpass a prince?” Ramesses II answered rhetorically.
“By worshiping the One God,” lectured Akhenaten. “All my life I appealed for human equality — only to be told that I was mad.”
“May peace be with you in your Islamic proceeding,” said Osiris to Ali Sundus.
51
HORUS CALLED OUT, “Ibn Qulaqis!”
A short, flabby man walked in and stood before the throne.
Osiris bid him address the court.
“I am Abul Fatah Nasrallah ibn Abdullah, known as Ibn Qulaqis al-Lakhmi al-Iskandari, nicknamed ‘the Mighty Judge.’ ”
“A name longer than those of most pharaohs!” gasped Osiris.
“My job was to moor the tall-masted ships at harbor, but I was also a poet. I visited the Maghreb and Sicily, praising their rulers in verse, just as I praised the Fatimids and the kings of Yemen. Egypt was my country, Islam was my homeland, and the art of praise my boon fortune. Hence my ode in panegyric to Yasir ibn Bilal, which opens thus:
Sail ever onward to your great fate / The infant crescent has grown to full moon
The water is kind to him who skims it / But evil to him who settles.
“And it is I who also said:
Gaze on the sun as over the Nile it’s sinking—
More amazing when followed by the redness of evening.”
“Tell me about the time in which you lived,” Osiris ordered him. “Poetry is judged in another venue.”