Note Two: ‘Abd al-Rahman usually met his scribe in the office in his modest abode. He had furnished it in the Maghribi style, only adding shelves and stepladders on the walls to house his most precious books. The meetings would occur one hour after the evening prayer and would usually go on till an hour after midnight. It’s worth mentioning that these monthly sessions were not all devoted to dictation and recording texts. The two men would often chat about a variety of topics. Al-Hihi would always bring a tray of Maghribi food cooked by his wife. When appropriate, he would talk about the harsh lives people led and by contrast the extreme luxury that the sultan and his coterie enjoyed. He also told ‘Abd al-Rahman how happy his wife was now that she could take walks with Sha‘ban and how she insisted that she would make all the food for his Master. For his part, ‘Abd al-Rahman spent part of his time asking his scribe about conditions in Egypt or listening to him as, in response to his request, al-Hihi read him a chapter from a book.
The Night at the End of Safar
During the first dictation session, ‘Abd al-Rahman and al-Hihi sat opposite each other with a jug of coffee and a plate of dates and sweet-meats between them. The amanuensis’s papers and pens were illuminated by lamps of various sizes and candle power. After a somewhat gloomy conversation, the two men worked together copying out extracts from al-Mas‘udi’s Golden Prairies and others from the manuscript of Ibn Battuta’s Travels.
Once they had finished, ‘Abd al-Rahman asked al-Hihi a question. “Can your mind conceive, Hammu, the possibility of Alexander descending to the bottom of the sea in a glass box, just to get a picture of the satanic beasts that were preventing him from building his city? Or that he then had statues of them placed on the bottom to scare them away?”
Al-Hihi immediately replied in the negative with a shake of his head and a hand gesture. “I never believed Ibn Battuta’s story about Abu ‘Inan’s single-handed victory over an entire army nor his tale about the same ruler to the effect that it was easier to kill a lion than a sheep. So how can I possibly accept a story that is even more implausible?”
The master was delighted with his amanuensis’s response. “Forget about the two stories you mentioned involving Ibn Battuta,” he continued. “According to the text they come from the witticisms of his amanuensis, Ibn Juzayy. You should be aware that Ibn Juzayy was appointed as recorder by Sultan Abu ‘Inan in person; the rest you can supply for yourself.”
“I didn’t realize that. Even so, it doesn’t entirely exonerate Ibn Battuta.”
“Forget that for the time being. Write this down: In deciding between what is possible and impossible, as in all matters of disputation, there is no avoiding an empirical approach. Anyone who disagrees with us about the statue of the starling should be asked to build one like it and wait for the oil to emerge after the starlings have brought it some olives. Similarly, with Alexander’s construction of the city, anyone who disagrees with our position should be asked to repeat what Alexander did: could he have breathed inside a glass box lowered into the sea and would he have resurfaced still alive and breathing? This is the only way to deal with all these implausible myths that go against the natural order of things and impede the advancement of knowledge.”
Whenever Ibn Khaldun broached serious topics, one of his habits was to lower his head in thought, then ask his amanuensis to record his observations and comments. On this particular occasion he told al-Hihi to write these thoughts down. “Record them, Hammu,” he said, “so that no one will think I’m one of those academic types who is always gloomy and cantankerous or else thinks in circles or squares — a person who can only comprehend the world in terms of equations and numerals. Record that I never disregard stories simply because they are amusing. I only declare them insignificant once I have come to see them as mere appendages to major historical sources, available for citation without any proper investigation or detailed critical analysis. However, beyond those kinds of contexts, I think it’s wonderful to be able to read such tales when we feel aggravated or downhearted; and how often that happens in these dark days of ours! We can read them and regard them as sources of pleasure and enlightenment; they may well be the only sources of fresh air and moderation in our troubled lives.”
Al-Hihi’s skill at taking dictation was without parallel. Proverbs were struck on the basis of his skill at keeping record of what was said. On this occasion, however, such was his companion’s excitement and intensity that he found himself forced to postpone the process of correction and organization. This is what he heard him go on to say: “Hammu, record what I say — that is what I have commissioned you to do. So record that on several occasions, whether asleep or awake, I have dreamed of being turned into a starling, a bird that would carry olive after olive to the mouths of starving people across the breadth of the region where I live.
“Then note down that I have sometimes dreamed of seeing the City of Brass in the desert by Sijilmasa. I made my way inside the city through one of its walls. I neither cried out from the top nor did I throw myself down, and all to avoid vanishing inside the city for evermore. Instead I called to Him of the Beautiful Names, and then bargained with the stalwart guards of the city to give me a tour. They accepted, on condition that afterward, when I was leaving the city, they could make me forget everything I had seen. That’s the way it happened. I saw the city teeming, with innumerable wonders and miracles. Of beauty and justice I witnessed things the eye has never seen, the ear never heard, and the hearts of men never sensed. Do not ask me for details. Everything was erased from my memory. What remains is the purest of fragrances.
“Now Hammu, record that sometimes when I have a headache or feel depressed, I sit down facing the river. All sorts of fantasies clog my mind, leading me into a glass cubicle that takes me to the bottom of the sea. The idea is not to hunt satanic beasts, but rather to encounter the netherworld of sea creatures and plants and to observe them from close up. I must confess to you that my innate curiosity leads me to imagine a descent to the depths, not merely for observation, but also to investigate in detail both their marine leaders and statesmen and their general populace. That is even more the case since my own knowledge of such matters is inferior to that of Aristotle and al-Jahiz. But please make it clear that the reason for my interest in the application of the imagination to the sea-world is not to prove that the hippopotamus, for example, has two penises and that its flesh can cure sexual impotence; nor to observe other amphibians, horses, dolphins, dogs, pigs, or other denizens of lakes, valleys, rivers, and canals. Our knowledge of such phenomena is reasonable enough, and further information serves to match our facilities in such topics. To the contrary, my own postulates on the subject concern the depths of the sea: I am anxious to find out whether the absolute, never-ending silence engenders group identities and clashes of leadership intentions among groups of mammals, fish, and crustaceans. It may well be that faulty equipment and weak will may be overwhelmed by such an all-pervasive silence. But, if such be the case, then I shall put my suppositions, albeit with broken wings, into a drawer and continue to stare, as long as God wills, at the magical tableaux of organic and inorganic entities beneath the surface of the sea. The dynamic and static elements will be explained as part of God’s plan for the universe or else as random products of a frivolous universe. Are you following me, Hammu?”
“Master,” replied Hammu, sweat pouring from his brow, “I am with you, with pen and paper, beneath the sea’s surface!”