Before the Throne

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.”

“The Ikhshidid dynasty was overturned by the Fatimids without resort to war,” Ibn Qulaqis obliged Osiris. “They founded Cairo and al-Azhar, and improved the administration — bringing prosperity along with their reign. When al-Muizz li-Din Illah arrived, he received the nation’s elite, among them Ahmad ibn Tabataba, the scientist and man of letters. He asked the new caliph, ‘From whom did his lordship descend?’

“Al-Muizz then drew his sword half-way from its scabbard. ‘This is my lineage,’ the caliph replied, distributing gold to those assembled. ‘And this is my nobility,’ he told them. To this they answered, ‘We have all heard and will obey.’ ”

“Why didn’t you make your country independent after the Ikhshidids disappeared?” asked Abnum.

“And why didn’t we split away when there was more than one Muslim caliph?” Ibn al-Qulaqis asked in return. “Independence means nothing to the Muslim — all he wants is a strong Muslim ruler who is also just. This we found under the Fatimids.”

“When they swore their allegiance through gold and the sword?”

“Can there be a state without those two things?” Ibn Qulaqis again asked. “The Fatimid age was crammed with knowledge, art, and construction, while the Christians enjoyed both trust and security. But the rule of al-Hakim bi-Amr Illah was unforgettable for its clashing contradictions. Once he would favor the Muslims and persecute the Copts, another time he would coddle the Copts while bashing the Muslims, and then he would just be horrible to them all. But their era ended in a deadly famine — their awe and glory were wiped away, as the people were struck with stunning calamities.”

“Proceed to your trial with peace,” Osiris said to Ibn Qulaqis.