“You did well, friend, really well! Then what happened? In spite of my old age I can still bear hearing the rest of it.”
Burhan al-Din smiled, as though procrastinating a little. The two men spent a short time in contemplation and silent prayer, then a group of jurists joined them, with a shaykh in Sufi garb at their head. They extended their greetings and joined the two judges. ‘Abd al-Rahman was introduced to everyone there, although he seemed to have met some of them already. The chief judge, the Hanafi Mahmud ibn al-‘Izz, made ready to begin the discussion as senior member of the group. At that point, the assembly was forcefully interrupted by the arrival of Azdar, the officer in charge of the Citadel, accompanied by his escort. He seemed very angry.
“Your assembly, gentlemen,” he said, hand on sword, “is illegal and unacceptable to the sultan.”
Burhan al-Din decided that he had no alternative but to face down the officer. “firstly, Azdar,” he said in a determined and threatening tone, “you are to salute these distinguished men with God’s proper greeting. Then you can control your anger.”
“No greeting is due to anyone who wishes to hand over the city to the tyrant.”
“If you have received specific orders from the sultan, then show us the papers or else get the secretary of Judge Nasir al-Din Abu Tayyib who is here with us to witness them. If you really wish to protect the Citadel, then stay there along with your rich, influential friends.”
“If you hand over Damascus — Heaven forbid! — you will be placing the Citadel in the direst jeopardy. You’re well aware of that, Judge, and you all know as well that Timur has neither faith nor morals. He may give you a pledge of safe-conduct today, but he’ll break it whenever he feels like it.”
“Yes, we’re aware of all that. And we’re also aware that futile resistance to overwhelming military force is a brand of sheer stupidity, something that is certain to bring destruction down on our heads. The purpose of these good men gathered here is to persuade Timur not to harm people and to save the lives of unarmed civilians inside the city. If you have some other plan, then go ahead!”
“Stick to the high places, gentlemen. That’s what an eagle with a broken wing does when it’s surrounded by ravenous beasts. Our situation is exactly like the eagle’s. Our only recourse is to stick things out to the bitter end. That’s the only way that the enemy will give up, raise the siege, and go away.”
After a moment’s thought, ‘Abd al-Rahman decided to say something that might calm Azdar’s temper and lend support to Burhan al-Din’s point of view.
“Okay, Officer,” he said, “suppose Damascus were to fall after a period of resistance — God forbid — and the Mongols started pounding the Citadel with mortars from raised positions they’ll construct. Would there be any other recourse besides negotiation?”
“I’ve thought about all the worst possibilities. After all, I’m a soldier and strategist. In my view, everything can be handled, just so long as the sultan comes back to fight the Tatars as soon as he has dealt with the rebellion in Egypt.”
“That’s pure speculation. If these judges had the slightest guarantee that Faraj would be coming back, they would be taking an entirely different approach to the situation,” said ‘Abd al-Rahman.
“If we resist to the bitter end, it will encourage the sultan to make every possible effort to rescue us.”
“But just imagine that Timur takes the city by storm and enters through the gates before the alleged return of the sultan. What will the people in the city be able to do?”
“The Citadel is impregnable; it’ll be our last resort. We have enough food and water stored for two months or more. That’s more than enough time for help to arrive from the Egyptian army.”
At this point, Burhan al-Din decided to raise the discussion to a new level in case some of the other jurists were swayed by Azdar’s arguments.
“Gentlemen,” he said, “the officer forgets the gruesome fate already suffered by many cities in Iraq and Syria without the Mamluks lifting a finger to help. Now he’s trying to use speculations based on sheer fancy to convince us. Tell us, Azdar, if things get to a crisis point, will you open the Citadel gates to all the citizens who are scared for their own lives, even though they be poor and indigent?”
The officer stepped back a few paces. “The Citadel can’t hold everybody,” he stuttered. “In any case, Timur is not bothered with poor people. It’s the affluent and influential folk he’s concerned about. They’re the people who need protection.”
Hearing this reasoning, the shaykh of the poor quarters, a man named Shadid al-Din al-Azdi, leapt to his feet. “In matters of this world, you impious individual,” he thundered in a tone that shook the entire building, “there is to be no distinction between God’s souls.”
Burhan al-Din seized the opportunity afforded by the clear consternation of the officer and his men and tightened the noose still further. “I have evidence, Azdar, which shows that you’ve been keeping for yourself a full third of all the wealth you’re protecting.”
The Hanafi Shaykh Ibn al-‘Izz now broke his silence, aiming just one word at the officer: “Leave!”
It looked as though the officer might taking the order as a joke, but then the shaykh of the poor went right up to him. “My superior has told you to leave. So leave, or else I’ll slap you in the face!”
With that, Azdar and his men backed away in some confusion and left. The Sufi returned to his position. ‘Abd al-Rahman was utterly amazed by what he had just witnessed. He gave Burhan al-Din a questioning look and heard him say, “Gentlemen, our time is short. Azdar will undoubtedly set his men on us. Yesterday, when the great master Ibn Khaldun was not among us, we decided that I should take Shadid al-Din and go to see Timur with a view to getting him to agree to a guarantee of safety for homes and families in return for handing over the keys to the city. What we want and need is for us to come back with such a document. Should we be killed, then it’s up to you to mobilize the local units while you wait for delivery from God Almighty. That’s what everyone has already decided. What do you think, Wali al-Din?”
“It’s an excellent plan, but I would request to accompany you to talk to Timur so I can collect more information about the behavior of rulers and the art of negotiation.”
“You’ll get to meet the great invader, Wali al-Din, provided the shaykh and I return from his tent unharmed. Our first trip there is simply to take the pulse. Our colleagues have chosen this colleague because he does not fear death and me because I know several of the languages the Mongols and people who serve them also understand. Now let’s say the noon prayer and ask God for a successful outcome.”
That same evening, Burhan al-Din returned from his encounter with Timur and met the judge at al-’Adiliya. He brought with him a guarantee of safe conduct and an oral request from Timur for the master to come and meet him. He noted that Timur had specifically mentioned Ibn Khaldun by name and explained the fact by saying that one of his retainers, ‘Abd al-Jabbar ibn al-Nu‘man, the Hanafi adherent to the Mu‘tazili doctrine, was acquainted with many languages and knowledgeable about the most illustrious Muslim scholars in the East and West. The jurists all decided to accept the invitation and to leave at dawn the next day; they decided to gather by Bab al-Jabiya.
‘Abd al-Rahman tried to get some sleep but he failed. Things turned from bad to worse when the college guard came and told him there had been a fight between Burhan al-Din’s young volunteers and the Citadel commander’s men in the Umawi mosque; staves and knives had been used. ‘Abd al-Rahman got up immediately, closed the door of his house, and asked the guard to make sure the college door remained locked. Feeling a bit more secure, he started reading in the hope of passing the time and overcoming his worries. That was no better however, and things did not improve till he had spent the remainder of the night before dawn intoning one litany after another. He then performed his prayers and hurried to the meeting point.