“I am now exactly as you have always known me,” she said, addressing him face to face, “and as I have pledged myself to you. Now you do likewise. The hearts of all free men are havens for secrets. Never forget that. I am placing this child in your charge; on your own head be it! You must hold his hand and teach him how to govern and manipulate the reins of power. Long live our glorious dynasty!”
As Ibn Dawwas listened to these words, he bowed low and kissed the ground in a show of obeisance. She would not let him go until she had also summoned Khatir al-Mulk and told him exactly what she had told Ibn Dawwas.
“You are to outfit a splendid carriage for the new caliph,” she added imperiously, “then give him a slave escort and parade him before the people. You should inform them that she who is all-powerful hereby issues the following proclamation: ‘Here is your new lord and guardian, (live him a pledge of your loyalty and obedience.”‘
She had things her way. Khatir al-Mulk executed her orders with consummate skill. With the exception of a single servant whom she had killed because he refused to pledge allegiance and instead proclaimed the imminent return of al-Hakim. all the palace staff spent the day kissing the ground and rubbing their cheeks on the floor, outdoing each other in displays of fawning obedience. People from all walks of life arrived in droves to proclaim their pledges of loyalty and express their delight.
Soon after the coronation ceremonies for al-Zahir li-I‘zaz Din Allah and all the accompanying celebrations and festivities, Sitt al-Mulk proclaimed three days of mourning for al-Hakim’s disappearance. Once this period was past, everything gave the appearance of being in good order and on an even keel once again: waters flowing in their proper courses, swords back in their scabbards, and wayward tongues remaining silent. However it was not long before the genera! atmosphere inside the enormous palace began to echo with nasty rumors. A provocative whispering campaign started casting doubts on Sitt al-Mulk’s innocence in the matter of al-Hakim’s death. What fanned such doubts was a report issued by a group of investigative experts to the effect that, just three days following al-Hakim’s disappearance, they had combed the Muqattam Hills from top to bottom. They had found his clothing close to a small pond east of Hulwan and Dayr al-Baghl—seven buttoned garments, all of them blood-stained. However the group was scared of Sitt al-Mulk’s likely reaction to this news and also anxious to appease the new caliph, so they did not release their findings. Eventually however the news leaked out, and everyone heard the story.
For an entire day Sitt al-Mulk stayed secluded in her bedroom, while she tried to figure out how to fix things and find a solution. Right at sunset she began to feel flashes of a strong conviction, one she was powerless to quell, namely that such important secrets could only be safely stored inside a single heart. To reduce them to a single entity and keep them out of harm’s way inevitably required that all the other versions would have to be eliminated. Simply stated, Sitt ah-Mulk reached the conclusion that, if the secret of al-Hakim’s murder was to be fully suppressed inside her own heart and prevented from spreading, then it too would have to be eliminated by killing everyone else who knew about it. As she saw it, such a course of action would not merely give her more leeway and cleanse her hands of his blood, but also accomplish other goals that were much needed in order to stabilize the government. Firstly, she would he rid of the rivalry for power and influence between Ibn Dawwas and Khatir al-Mulk which was all part of their bargain for keeping things secret. Secondly, it would squelch all talk about al-Hakim’s temporary disappearance that his devotees were putting about among simple country folk and conspirators against the current government. Thirdly, it would stop all the stories being put about by lunatics, some of whom, before killing themselves, would claim to be al-Hakim’s murderer, while others dressed themselves up to look like al-Hakim and then gathered a crowd around them with a view to bringing back his power and authority.
Sitt al-Mulk immediately summoned Nasim the Sicilian, the chief of security. She told him to stop kissing the ground in front of her and to get up. “Talk to me about secrets, Nasim,” she said.
“My lady,” he responded humbly, “secrets are part of my daily routine, my profession, a buried link, a veiled knot, something my eyes can envision but my tongue cannot speak. The secret is something I can neither understand nor seek to understand. The secret, my lady, is a priceless fundamental, a special core. Once spread abroad, it is lost. While the soul of the one who beans it may be troubled, that of one of who does not bear it is yet more so. In the political realm secrets constitute the key to authority; in war they provides the means to take the enemy by surprise and secure crushing victory. Secrets, my lady, are the most exalted and cogent things a man may carry in his soul to his very grave. This is just a small portion of what our shaykhs and elders have told us about secrets and the secret of secrets.”
“Now, Nasim,” Sitt al-Mulk continued, well pleased by what she had heard, “you’re aware of the high esteem I have for you, just as my late brother did. In fact, mine is yet higher. I’ve no doubt you’ve heard all kinds of stories about al-Hakim’s death. Today I want to put an end to all that by revealing what my own investigations have brought to light regarding certain senior officials who always dreamed of doing away with my brother. Go outside now and in full hearing of Ibn Dawwas instruct the slaves as follows: Our Lady has discovered and confirmed that it was Sayf al-Dawla who murdered al-Hakim. So kill him.” Then go and say exactly the same thing about Khatir al-Mulk. Insist that he be killed too, along with the entire coterie of both men. Once you have carried out these orders, come back and tell me what you have managed to do.”
Nasim and his squad made their way to Ibn Dawwas’s home, but he wasn’t there. Next they headed to the Kutami quarter, and there they found him checking on his kinsmen and exhorting them to stick together. The Security Chief informed him that his lady required his presence immediately on an urgent matter. Once Ibn Dawwas had been escorted far away from the quarter, Nasim carried out Sitt al-Mulk’s orders. When the guards drew their swords, Ibn Dawwas began to defend himself and called on his tribesmen to help him. He managed to kill two slaves, but within minutes he was dead, his corpse riddled with sword-thrusts.
“I managed to escape the hell of al-Hakim,” he muttered as he lay there dying, “only to fall into the clutches of that viper of a sister of his. A pox on this state, with all its secrets and catastrophes!”
At that very moment Khatir al-Mulk was at home He was describing to his wife a nightmare he kept having: al-Hakim would appear to him, sometimes in the guise of a terrifying ghost, and tell him to choose between revealing the real secret behind his own murder or else facing a gruesome act of vengeance; at other times, his guise would be a huge woman who would grab his neck in her numerous hands and amuse herself by throttling him. The only way his wife could find to calm his anxieties was to ply him with cup after cup of wine. Once they were both thoroughly drunk, she used to get up and take all his clothes off. Then, swaying slowly from side to side, she started to strip in front of him, her eyes and gestures serving as icons of seduction and grace. With that she fell on top of him, and his massive body welcomed her in a passionate embrace and an orgy of kisses. They both became as a single body, undivided and totally blended. It was at the very moment when they were in the midst of their passion and at the point of climax that Nasim and his guards burst in on them like a lethal lightning-strike. In stabbing them both to death, the slaves managed to tear their bodies to pieces.
Early in the evening of that bloody day Nasim returned breathless to Sitt al-Mulk’s residence, accompanied by a group of sturdy slaves who were carrying bulging sacks dripping with blood.
“Here is what you ordered, my lady,” said Nasim with a bow. “These seven sacks contain the corpses of those two accursed wretches, Khatir al-Mulk and Ibn Dawwas, and five of their equally treacherous henchmen. The rest will follow. Should we separate the heads and toss the rest to the lions?
“No!
” shrieked Sitt al-Mulk, tears streaming down her face. “Nothing must be left. Bury the sacks in a single ditch outside the city. Keep your hands away from their necks. Let the blood course through their veins, not on the tips of your swords.”
“And what about the young governor of Aleppo, Abu Shuja‘ Fatik al-Wahidi?” inquired Nasim in a affectionate tone that made no attempt to conceal its hard edge of determination. “Are we supposed to keep our swords away from him too, my lady? Throughout the late al-Hakim’s reign he was constantly creating problems. He gave himself fancy titles like ‘Aziz al-Dawla, Prince of Princes, and Crown of the People, struck coins in his name, and had his own name included in the Friday prayers I’ve no idea what further mischief he’ll get up to if my lady keeps on placating him and trying to win him over with compliments and gifts.”
Sitt al-Mulk realized that Nasim was criticizing her decisions, but still managed to keep her temper under control. “What would you have me do?” she replied. “Send an army to obliterate Aleppo? Don’t you realize that when you find a snake in your garden it’s better to cut its head off, not set fire to the entire garden? I’ve promised myself not to kill anyone until my complete repertoire of tricks and machinations is exhausted. As far as the governor of Aleppo is concerned, I’m still looking for his particular weaknesses so I can use them to get rid of him.”
Nasim lowered his head and cowtowed like someone in desperate need of forgiveness and approbation. “My lady clearly has things well planned,” he mumbled. “God will grant her success and provide the surest counsel. If you would like information on the secret weakness of that rebellious wretch in Aleppo, just ask your servant, the Chief of Security. I can give you guaranteed information, things that will expose the way he really is and bring about his downfall. Discretion being out of place where matters of religion and politics are concerned, I can tell you, my lady, that the young governor of Aleppo is a prostitute’s child. He’s renowned among informers and spies alike for his innate aversion to women and his perverted social preferences. He has neither wife nor lover. His only true passion is an Indian boy whom he calls “the eternal youth.” This boy is the only person he sleeps with; all he asks from his Creator—may He be exalted!—is to be in this boy’s company on that fateful day when all bodies are to be gathered together. My lady, this very boy can be God’s gift to us. He’ll provide the precious means we can use in order to act. Let’s make him a pliant tool in our hands, something we can use to destroy this enemy of our state. Once we’ve employed certain techniques to turn him against his master, we’ll be able to make him the vengeful sword to remove this traitor’s head. Once that is done, we can kill the boy. Everything else is for my lady to arrange”, she being the one who inspires my thoughts and actions.”
Sitt al-Mulk said not a word, but simply gestured her approval and agreement. She rushed away to her chamber, pursued by Nasim’s expressions of loyalty and obedience. She lay down on her bed and wept bitterly, agonizing over the fact that she was compelled to order so many people killed—and all of it, by God, in spite of herself!
For a few precious days Sitt al-Mulk felt she could breathe easier. She allowed the palace maids to pamper her body with baths, massages, and beauty treatments; throughout this period she came to relish this level of attention and asked for even more. Meanwhile the maids were outdoing each other in their efforts to stimulate every limb, every single inch of her blessed body.
During this period Sitt al-Mulk actually felt reborn; it was as if she were finally rid of times steeped in blood and disaster and could at last take some comfort from harbingers of good times ahead. She started to supervise state affairs for herself, while in her shadow the new caliph, al-Zahir, learned how to achieve the necessary level of decision-making authority and how to annul the oppressive and contradictory policies of his own father. Before long she had fully restored die Fatimid dynasty and its administration to full order and provided it with both security and permanence. She started with a broad purge of the financial sector which in al-Hakim’s time had fallen on bad times because of his profligate spending on gifts and land as well as on a wide variety of phony and illegitimate salaries. Along with such measures she also re-imposed taxes and duties at reasonable and fairly distributed rates. As a result of these urgently needed reforms, signs of a healthy economy began to appear, along with indications of a balanced budget. Sitt al-Mulk also pushed al-Zahir to rescind or annul all the edicts that al-Hakim had issued in the form of bans and prohibitions, along with the withdrawal of protection from Christians, Jews, and adherents of other faiths. No sooner had these new edicts reached the ears of the Egyptian populace than a general sense of tranquility was restored, and with it a new tolerance and co-existence among the people of every race, creed, and color.
Al first, people found it hard to believe that life in their quarters was really returning to normal. Then gradually they started spreading their wings and exercising their rights once more. Men and women from different classes and age groups, everyone started going out into the alleys and streets again. They expressed their joy in praises to God and prayers for the continuing success and victory of the new caliph and his aunt and for crushing defeat and perdition on their foes. They formed processions and threw roses and other fragrant cuttings at each other as they exchanged politesses; all this as a way of giving expression to the overpowering sense of joy and well-being they all felt, second only to heavenly bliss itself.
Everyone in Egypt now began to realize that al-Hakim’s fabled “smoke” had finally dissipated. When women started going out in the evening to stroll along the banks of the Nile, it was clear that the dark night of his reign was truly over. Nightclubs reopened, and once again it was legal to purchase and drink liquor. Egyptians were allowed to hold their festival celebrations again, and they resumed with even greater splendor than before. Banquets resumed too, with all kinds of food and drink; tables would stretch for a mile or more, loaded with roast lamb, chicken, pullets, pigeons, trays of cheeses and sweets, and so on. People from all classes of society turned up, ate as much as they could, and took home whatever was left. These types of celebration were no longer confined to the two big feasts. Greater and Lesser Bayram. Traditional Fatimid celebrations were included, such as the commemorations of the opening of the Canal, of the Nile flood, of the four candles, and other recognized Fatimid holidays. The celebrations also included Coptic ones, Nawruz, Pentecost, and other Christian feast days. Everyone in Egypt now turned these occasions into a celebration of life itself and a means of putting the era of al-Hakim far behind them.
During the dark days of al-Hakim’s reign candles and lamps had only been permitted to bum at night with the tyrant’s permission, Now they were to be seen everywhere on land and water, giving expression to the outburst of sheer joy that everyone felt, and especially people who had suffered badly under the old regime. Nothing better reflected this reinvigoration of the national spirit than the lifting of the compulsory confinement of women inside the house. Public baths once again rang with their voices, and shoe-sellers, couturiers, and beauty parlors thrived. What a feast for the eye! Feluccas and river banks teeming with bevies of beautiful girls whose finery and perfume pervaded every space they chose to grace with their presence. Happy indeed were the young bachelors long deprived of such delights. They could now enjoy the spectacle every evening, and especially on major feast days! A group of pretty girls would parade past, svelte and lively, chewing gum and exchanging small talk. Another would gather round a brazier or an illuminated lake, singing and chanting poems. Yet another would be rowing a boat to the rhythm of a flute player, their long hair flowing like spread sails, their breasts open to the waves’ embrace.
Faced with such overpowering beauty, young men, in fact everyone who set eyes on the girls—whatever their age, even those who considered themselves experienced arbiters of fashion, could only sigh and utter expressions of admiration, at the same time feeling a bitter pang of regret that so much bea
uty had been buried inside houses during al-Hakim’s gruesome reign.
Now everyone had a sense of being released from bonds of oppression and prohibition, from murder and persecution. Such times were now far, far away. Instead life had a wonderful savor to it and a particular scent that revived and relaxed the soul. This existence could respond to love’s call, to the expression of sweet words, to the aspiration for the beautiful. Sitt al-Mulk herself might also have been able to enjoy her share of this new life and accept the peace and well-being it offered, but instead a vestige of al-Hakim’s “smoke” wafted in, taking the form of the last of his senior missionaries, al-Druzi. Unlike Hamza and al-Akhram, he had not yet died or been murdered, but was still to be found in the mountains of Syria. He kept proclaiming al-Hakim’s divinity and suggested that the Holy Spirit had entered al-Hakim from Adam through the mediation of ‘Ali ibn Abi Talib. He used his eloquence and oratorical skill to convince people that al-Hakim would soon be returning from his occultation; he would then restore justice to a world filled with oppression. Every time Sitt al-Mulk heard about al-Druzi’s pronouncements, she requested God’s mercy and help. Quaking in disbelief she would listen to reports of the fatwas al-Druzi kept issuing. They began, “In the name of al-Hakim, the Merciful, the Compassionate,” and went on to legalize things that were forbidden and to annul prayer rituals and Muslim laws.
Faced with this danger Sitt al-Mulk hurriedly created a planning group led by the caliph al-Zahir Li-I‘zaz Din Allah. Every member of the group favored sending an army to crush al-Druzi and his followers and disciples, but Sitt al-Mulk thought it a better idea to stamp out the disease by cutting off the snake’s head and thus eradicate sedition.
The Theocrat: A Modern Arabic Novel (Modern Arabic Literature) Page 22
