Night and Horses and the Desert

by Robert Irwin

Now the Shaikh’s enthusiasm for learning made him say to the old man, ‘Will you dictate to me some of this poetry? In the transitory world I occupied myself with amassing scholarship, and gained nothing by it except admittance to the great. From them, indeed, I gained pigeon’s milk in plenty, for I was pulling at a shecamel whose dugs were tied … What is your kunya, that I may honour you therewith?’ ‘Abu Hadrash,’ said he; ‘I have begotten of children what God willed.’ ‘O Abu Hadrash,’ cried the Shaikh, ‘how is it that you have white hair, while the folk of Paradise enjoy perpetual youth?’ ‘In the past world,’ said he, ‘we received the power of transformation, and one of us might, as he wished, become a speckled snake or a sparrow or a dove, but in the next world we are deprived of this faculty, while men are clothed in beautiful forms. Hence the saying, “Man has the gift of hila and the Jinn that of haula.” I have suffered evil from men, and they from me.’ Abu Hadrash then related how he struck a young girl with epilepsy, ‘and her friends gathered from every quarter and summoned magicians and physicians and lavished their delicacies, and left no charm untried, and the leeches plied her with medicines, but all the time I never budged. And when she died I sought out another, and so on like this, until God caused me to repent and refrain from sin, and to Him I render praise for ever.’

  Then the old man recited a poem describing his past life …

  R. A. Nicholson (trans.), Journal of

  the Royal Asiatic Society (1900), pp. 692–6

  COMMENTARY

  In what follows immediately after this passage, Abu Hadrash recites an autobiographical poem, discusses the language of the Jinn, and how in past times the Jinn used to eavesdrop on Heaven and were consequently punished by being pelted with blazing stars.

  Houris are the maidens who await men in Paradise. They are so called because they are hur al-'ayn, which means that the whites of their eyes completely surround and strongly contrast with the intense blackness of their irises. According to some authorities, their flesh is so transparent that, even when they are clothed in seventy silken robes, the marrow of their bones is visible. They are always virgin, no matter how often they sleep with men.

  The ‘Academy’ in Baghdad must be the Bayt al-Hikma, a library and translation centre, which was established under 'Abbasid patronage in the early ninth century. However, the implication that it was still in business in Ma'arri’s time is surprising. Taufiq must have been a black woman, as ‘al-Sauda’ indicates, but in Paradise she has been transformed into a white-skinned houri. Some women are born houris, and others achieve that state by virtuous living.

  A precursor of the image of the Tree of Houris can be found in the writings of a fourth-century Syrian Church Father, St Ephraem, who wrote of vine stocks that in the afterlife would take to their virgin bosoms monks who had remained chaste on earth. The tree which grew human heads, or even whole human bodies, was an immensely popular image with Middle Eastern writers and artists. A popular location for this sort of tree was the distant and mythical island of Waqwaq. There, adventurous travellers were delighted to discover, sex grew on trees.

  There are longer versions of the Risalat al-Ghufran than the one studied and translated by R. A. Nicholson. Not only that, but Nicholson produced a bowdlerized version. After the maiden drops off the tree, having been looking forward to meeting Ibn al-Qarih for four thousand years, Ibn al-Qarih prostrates himself on the ground and gives thanks to God for this blessing. He cannot help noticing, however, that the houri in question is a bit thin. No sooner has he had this thought than he looks again, and now he finds that she is excessively amply proportioned and has a bottom the size of a sand-dune. He prays to God to rectify the matter and it is done.

  The Qur’anic sura referred to in Ma'arri’s narrative is Sura 37, ‘The Rangers’.

  Ifrits and Marids were ranks of powerful jinn. As is evident from Ma'arri’s account, the universe contains both malevolent jinn and virtuous Muslim jinn.

  The old man’s merry boast, comparing himself to the aureole round the moon, but not to the man who fills skin with hot butter, loses rather a lot in translation. It depends on a pun on the word haqin, which means both ‘a man who suffers from urine retention’ and ‘a moon having its two extremities elevated and its back decumbent [i.e. lying down]’. Nicholson was a great Arabist, but I cannot guess why he has brought in the filler-of-skins-with-hot-butter at this point in his translation.

  Banu Sha'saban means ‘Sons of Decrepitude’.

  Muhammad ibn 'Imran al-Marzubani (c. 910–94) was a well-known literary scholar in Baghdad. His Kitab al-Ash'ar al-Jinn, or ‘Poems of the Jinn’, is listed in Ibn al-Nadim’s Fihrist, but like so much else, it has not survived.

  The kunya is that part of a person’s name which identifies him or her as being the parent of someone – Abu so-and-so or Umm so-and-so. (See the Introduction for more on personal names in Arabic.)

  ‘Man has the gift of hila and the Jinn that of haula” The meaning of this is not at all clear. Hila can mean ‘trick’ or ‘artifice’; haula can mean ‘marvel’, or, more likely here, ‘calamity’.

  Ma'arri’s Risalat al-Ghufran was written five years after a somewhat similar work by an Andalusian Muslim, Ibn Shuhayd (see Chapter 6). It has been suggested that Ibn Shuhayd’s and Ma'arri’s fantasies about the afterlife were indirectly the inspiration of Dante’s Divine Comedy, though this remains controversial.

  6

  The Lost Kingdoms of the Arabs: Andalusia

  The peculiar charm of this dreamy old palace is its power of calling up vague reveries and picturings of the past, and thus clothing naked realities with the illusions of the memory and the imagination.

  Washington Irving, The Alhamhra

  Arab and Berber armies crossed the Straits of Gibraltar in 711. They went on to inflict a series of defeats on the Vandal rulers of Spain and by 720 the Muslims were in occupation of almost all of the Iberian peninsula, as well as a large part of the south of France. The north-west corner of Spain, Galicia, remained Christian. Muslims advanced further into France and in 732 a Muslim army encountered a Frankish army under Charles Martel at the Battle of Poitiers. Edward Gibbon speculated that, had the Muslims won, perhaps ‘the interpretation of the Koran would now be taught in the schools of Oxford, and her pupils might demonstrate to a circumcized people the sanctity and truth of the revelation of Mohammed’. In fact the Muslims were defeated and after their defeat the Muslim leaders abandoned attempts to advance further into Europe. The Arabs were to rule over a large Christian and Jewish population, many of whom became Arabized in their culture and some of whom converted to Islam. In the early eighth century Muslim territory in Spain was, theoretically at least, subject to the Umayyad caliphs ruling from Damascus, until, in the mid-eighth century, the Umayyads in the eastern Islamic lands were deposed and hunted down by the ‘Abbasids. The ‘Abbasid Caliph al-Mansur (reigned 754-75) eventually established a new capital for the Islamic empire at Baghdad. However, one Umayyad prince escaped the general slaughter, and fleeing westwards in 756 established an emirate in Spain in opposition to the ‘Abbasid caliphate. 'Abd al-Rahman I (reigned 756-88) made Cordova the capital of the territory of Andalusia. (The Arabic toponym ‘Al-Andalus’, which probably originally meant ‘Of the Vandals’, subsequently came to refer to Muslim Spain.)

  ‘Abd al-Rahman I was himself a poet. The poem which follows was written at Rusafa, his Spanish palace, which he had named after one of the Umayyad palaces in Syria where he had grown up.

  A palm tree I beheld in Ar-Rusafa,

  Far in the West, far from the palm-tree land:

  I said: You, like myself, are far away, in a strange land;

  How long have I been far away from my people!

  You grew up in a land where you are a stranger,

  And like myself, are living in the farthest corner of the earth:

  May the morning clouds refresh you at this distance,

  And may abundant rains comfort you forever!

  Nykl, Hispa
no-Arabic Poetry and its Relations with

  the Old Provençal Troubadors, p. 18

  ‘Abd al-Rahman I was himself a poet. The poem which follows was written at Rusafa, his Spanish palace, which he had named after one of the Umayyad palaces in Syria where he had grown up.

  Despite the power and wealth of the early Umayyad rulers in Spain, little of any literary worth has survived from the first century and a half or so. For a long time Andalusian writers were accustomed to imitate literary forms which had been pioneered in the eastern Arab lands and a ‘cultural cringe’ in the direction of Baghdad was often in evidence. 'Ali ibn Nafi' ZIRYAB(789-857) arrived in Spain in the reign of ‘Abd al-Rahman II (reigned 822-52). At the gates of Cordova Ziryab received a reverential reception, for he came from the East and he had been trained as a musician, poet and courtier at the ‘Abbasid court in Baghdad. Ziryab had studied as a musician under Ibrahim al-Mawsili (see Chapter 4). But then, allegedly driven out by Ibrahim’s jealousy, Ziryab left Baghdad to look for patronage in the first instance in North Africa, before ending up in Spain in 822. Like most nadims, Ziryab was blessed with an extraordinary memory for anecdotes, proverbs and historical lore and he was good company at the royal soiréees, which were devoted to conversation and the drinking of palm wine. He was also reputed to know over a thousand songs by heart.

  Ziryab was an innovative singer and lute-player. He used to claim supernatural inspiration for his songs. According to al-Maqqari:

  They relate that Ziryab used to say that the Jinn taught him music every night, and that, whenever he was thus awakened, he called his two slave-girls, Ghazzalan and Hindah, made them take their lutes, whilst he also took his, and that they passed the night conversing, playing music, and writing verses, after which they hastily retired to rest.

  Ziryab added a fifth string to the lute and pioneered the use of eagles’ talons as plectra. He founded an ‘Institute of Beauty’. He introduced a new style in clothes and got people to part their hair down the middle. He introduced underarm deodorants, made from litharge or lead monoxide. He improved the recipe for the detergent used for washing clothes. He set a new fashion for changing dress to match all four seasons of the year. (Previously the only change had been from summer to winter garments.) He also introduced asparagus into Spain, as well as a special recipe for fried meatballs cooked with coriander. At table, he urged the use of crystal rather than the ostentatiously vulgar gold and silver vessels which had previously been the fashion. Leather trays replaced dining-tables, since Ziryab pronounced that leather was more hygienic, being easier to wash. As far as literature was concerned, Ziryab introduced Andalusian poets to the ornate eastern forms of the badi. So the backwoodsmen of Spain were much more civilized by the time Ziryab had finished with them; nevertheless, he made a number of enemies among the local poets and courtiers.

  Andalusia reached its political and military apogee during the reign of 'Abd al-Rahman III (reigned 912-61) who declared himself to be caliph, thereby underlining his opposition to the new Shi‘ite Fatimid caliphate in North Africa. In 942 ‘Abd al-Rahman invited the distinguished philologist ‘Ali al-Qali (901-65) from Baghdad. Qali wrote the Kitab al-Amali, a belles-lettres compilation which chiefly focused on lexical issues, and in which he picked out difficult words in famous fragments of poetry and prose and explained them.

  It was also during the caliphate of ‘Abd al-Rahman III that the most famous work of Andalusian belles-lettres was produced. Al-‘lqd al-Farid (‘The Unique Necklace’) was written by Abu Umar Ahmad ibn Muhammad IBN ‘ABD AL-RABBIH(860-940). Ibn ‘Abd al-Rabbih was a Cordovan who served the Umayyad rulers as a courtier and panegyric poet. Although he was a poet in his own right, he is most famous for a literary anthology of other men’s flowers. He was at pains to include material by and about local authors, but his book looked to the East and was quite closely modelled on Ibn Qutayba’s ‘Uyun al-Akhbar (see Chapter 4). It drew heavily upon ‘Abbasid authors, including Ibn Qutayba, Ibn al-Muqaffac‘, Jahiz and others. When Ibn ‘Abbad, the Buyid vizier in the East, read Al-‘lqd al-Farid, he remarked: ‘This is our merchandise. Give it back to us!’ Each of the twenty-five chapters of the anthology is named after a different precious stone. It was an expression of ‘chancery culture’ in that its contents embodied the adab, which a scribe working in the royal chancery might be expected to possess – a knowledge, above all, of the cream of past speeches and wisdom, as they had been transmitted from generation to generation. However, despite Ibn ‘Abd al-Rabbih’s close attention to the literary lore of the past, he was also firmly convinced that modern writers were in all respects superior to the ancients. In his anthology, he junked the chains of transmission because he (rightly) thought that they made compilations prolix and dull. The chapters cover a wide range of subjects, including statecraft, the arts of war, oratory, lives of the famous, sayings of the prophets, proverbs, religion, poetry, songs, women, geography, the Muslim rulers of Spain, and so on.

  Al-‘Utbi said, I heard Abu ‘Abd al-Rahman Bishr say that in the reign of al-Mahdi there was a mystic who was intelligent, learned and god-fearing, but who pretended to be a fool in order to find a way of fulfilling the command to enjoin what is right and prohibit what is disapproved. He used to ride on a reed two days a week, on Mondays and Thursdays. When he rode on those two days, no apprentices obeyed or were controlled by their masters. He would go out with men, women and boys, climb a hill and call out at the top of his voice, ‘What have the prophets and messengers done? Are they not in the highest Heaven?’ They [the audience] would say, ‘Yes.’ He would say, ‘Bring Abu Bakr al-Siddiq,’ so a young boy would be taken and seated before him. He would say, ‘May God reward you for your behaviour towards the subjects. You acted justly and fairly. You succeeded Muhammad, may God bless him and grant him peace, and you joined together the rope of the faith after it had become unravelled in dispute, and you inclined to the firmest bond and the best trust. Let him go to the highest Heaven!’ Then he would call, ‘Bring ‘Umar,’ so a young man would be seated in front of him. He would say, ‘May God reward you for your services to Islam, Abu Hafs. You made the conquests, enlarged the spoils of war and followed the path of the upright. You acted justly towards the subjects and distributed [the spoils] equally. Take him to the highest Heaven! Beside Abu Bakr.’ Then he would say, ‘Bring ‘Uthman,’ so a young man would be brought and seated in front of him. He would say to him, ‘You mixed [good and bad] in those six years, but God, exalted is He, says, ‘They mixed a good deed with another evil. It may be that God will turn towards them. Perhaps there is forgiveness from God.’ Then he would say, ‘Take him to his two friends in the highest Heaven.’ Then he would say, ‘Bring ‘Ali b. Abi Talib,’ and a young boy would be seated in front of him. He would say, ‘May God reward you for your services to the umma, Abu ‘l-Hasan, for you are the legatee and friend of the Prophet. You spread justice and were abstemious in this world, withdrawing from the spoils of war instead of fighting for them with tooth and nail. You are the father of blessed progeny and the husband of a pure and upright woman. Take him to the highest Heaven of Paradise.’ Then he would say, ‘Bring Mu‘awiya,’ so a boy would be seated before him and he would say to him, ‘You are the killer of ‘Ammar b. Yasir, Khu-zayma b. Thabit Dhu’l-Shahadatayn and Hujr b. al-Adbar al-Kindi, whose face was worn out by worship. You are the one who transformed the caliphate into kingship, who monopolized the spoils, gave judgement in accordance with whims and asked the assistance of transgressors. You were the first to change the Sunna of the Prophet, may God bless him and grant him peace, to violate his rulings and to practise tyranny. Take him and place him with the transgressors.’ Then he would say, ‘Bring Yazid,’ so a young man would be seated before him. He would say to him, ‘You pimp, you are the one who killed the people of the Harra and laid Medina open to the troops for three days, thereby violating the sanctuary of the Prophet, may God bless him and grant him peace. You harboured the godless and thereby made yourself deserving o
f being cursed by the Prophet, may God bless him and grant him peace. You recited the pagan verse, “I wish that my elders had seen the fear of the Khazraj at Badr when the arrows fell.” You killed Husayn and carried off the daughters of the Prophet as captives [riding pillion] on the camel-bags. Take him to the lowest Hell!’ He would continue to mention ruler after ruler until he reached ‘Umar b. 'Abd al-Aziz, then he would say, ‘Bring 'Umar,’ and a young boy would be brought and be seated before him. He would say, ‘May God reward you for your services to Islam, for you revived justice after it had died and softened the merciless hearts; through you the pillar of the faith has been restored after dissension and hypocrisy. Take him and let him join the righteous.’ Then he would enumerate the subsequent caliphs until he reached the dynasty of the ‘Abbasids, whereupon he would fall silent. He would be told, ‘This is al-'Abbas, the Commander of the Faithful.’ He would reply, ‘We have got to the 'Abbasids; do their reckoning collectively and throw all of them into Hell.’

  Moreh, Live Theatre and Dramatic Literature in the

  Medieval Arabic World, pp. 91–3

  COMMENTARY

  Although live theatre was not an important art form in the medieval Arab world, nevertheless fairly simple dramas were sometimes staged, as can be seen from this account of a performance before the ‘Abbasid Caliph al-Mahdi (reigned 775–5) of a trial of the caliphs by God. The heavy politico-religious content of this performance is probably unusual. Most dramas seem to have been bawdy and vulgar.

  The command to ‘enjoin what is right and prohibit what is disapproved’ (al-amrbi-’l-ma'rufwa-’l-nahy'an al-munkar) is a phrase found at several points in the Qur’an. It was and is the watchword of Muslim rigorists. It was also the basis of the authority of the muhtasib (market inspector).