“By my donkey, Qamar. Did you but realize some of these dire things, you would head for exile in droves, or else you would dig yourselves in amid the thickets of silence and fatigue.
“For that very reason I intend to keep them suppressed and to strive to keep them apart from the realm of events. That is not out of a sense of pity or sympathy for you, but rather because I’m afraid that I may turn into a shepherd with no flock or God’s own sword that for harvest has only wind and dust.
“In the space between myself and confession I amuse myself by dipping my hands in the blood of some of my slaves or by staring at boys’ genitals. One after the other I ask them: Show me your moon. In that way I can distinguish those who will die from others who will be saved.
“There are times when I find myself overpowered by the desire to allow natural disaster to happen. The answer I give is: Just for today and no longer I give you this earth and the people in it. So launch your attack, toy with its laws and rituals; send a deluge to create it and formulate it afresh.
“How is it that my terrifying dreams spin in circles? Ever since I took up the mantle of rule by the order of God, I have been afflicted by dreadful nightmares. They beset me every single night as I try to fall asleep. Just to give a single example from among many, I see myself stabbed and falling to the ground, just like ‘Ali and al-Husayn; I see myself as a severed head rolling like al-Husayn’s head; I see myself failing and calling out for help, but no one moves an inch. Such is the pain and shock that I wake up and discover, much to my delight, that the whole thing was just a nightmare. But no sooner do I go back to sleep than the ravening hordes of conspiracy and extermination overwhelm me yet again, but without ever slaying me or robbing me of my consciousness. The entire dream may repeat itself in cycles, each one more horrific than the last. So picture me at the moment when I wake up, with every wrinkle on my face mirroring the varieties of terror and anxiety.
“How can I keep this face concealed from my own people? How can I walk among them without lighting my path and enveloping myself with the weapons of oppression and deceit?
“I am one of those people who, whenever they cry, weep in a veritable flood of hot tears. I cannot begin to describe it. If I tried, I would do no better than Sufi poets when they try to depict tears. So look up what people have said previously about distress and tearful eyes.
“Why do I weep? The basic reason is that I can find no alternative to violence as a way of keeping my people and authorities on the straight path; also that all my actions and adventures in the political realm are merely a drop in a bottomless ocean.
“There are secrets that I can only divulge on the day when I am close to death. So wait till I am on my deathbed, and then I will provide you with information that will expose me and dash my honor and reputation.”
Dawn was on the point of appearing when al-Hakim’s expression showed clear signs of exhaustion and insomnia. He stood up, looked at the young scribe’s genitals, and put on his cloak. Then he left the balcony where he had been drinking and headed for his quarters in the palace. Hardly had he gone before the devotees descended on the young scribe, snatched the papers from his hands, and rushed to transcribe their contents in order to contemplate and interpret them for themselves and thereafter to utilize their findings among the circle of initiates as a mode of access to interpretation and occult wisdom.
2. A Session in Quest of Surprise
An amusing tale from the time of al-Hakim tells how a judge in Egypt was named “head-butter.” The reason was that he had a cap with two cow horns on it that he used to keep beside him. Whenever two litigants came to his court and one of them tried to bully the other, the judge would don his cap with the two horns, move out, and start butting the litigant who was bullying the other one. All this made the judge very famous. Al-Hakim got to hear about this and sent for the judge. When he came into al-Hakim’s presence, the caliph asked him what he thought he was doing to earn such a bad reputation among the people. The judge responded, “O Commander of the Faithful, I would be delighted if one day you came to my court, sat behind a curtain, and simply listened to what I have to endure from the common people. Either you’ll see my point of view, or else you can punish me as you see fit.” Al-Hakim told him he would come the next day to see what he meant. Next morning, al-Hakim did indeed go to the judge’s court and took a seat behind a curtain. Two litigants came before the judge; one claimed a hundred dinars from the other and claimed that the other man had acknowledged the debt. The judge then ordered the second party to pay what he owed, but the latter responded that he was having difficulties at that moment and asked the court to order payment in installments. “What do you have to say to that?” the judge asked the plaintiff. “Make him pay ten dinars a month,” he replied. “I can’t do that,” the defendant replied. “How about five dinars?” the judge asked, to which the defendant again said that he could not manage that much. “Two dinars,” the judge suggested, and again the defendant said it was impossible. “One dinar,” said the judge, with the same result. Eventually the judge got down to just ten dinars a month, and still the defendant claimed it was impossible. The judge now asked the defendant how much he could afford to pay in order to satisfy the plaintiff. He replied that he could only afford three dinars a year, but only on condition that my opponent in this case is put in jail so he’ll never receive the amount in any case. At this point al-Hakim ran out of patience and came out from behind the curtain. “For heaven’s sake, butt this fiendish wretch,” he said. “If you don’t, then I will.” Al-Hakim was actually more stupid than the judge. The end.
Ibn Iyas,
Bright Flowers Concerning the Events of the Ages
Judicial proceedings and torts were normally resolved by personal interpretations of judges, but could also involve squabbles over influence and the stench of bribery and corruption. Al-Hakim lost no time in taking up the issue and devoting his attention to it. Perhaps the most remarkable judicial council that he graced with his caliphal chairmanship was the one that he held one night immediately after emerging from a treatment in violet oil. What made things so unusual was that the accused found themselves confronted with a banner, something that neither judges nor legal authorities had ever witnessed before — because it was entirely of al-Hakim’s own devising: “Surprise me, and I will forgive you!” The point of the whole thing — as Ghayn, the chief of police and public morality, explained to the six accused who were standing inside a cage — was that, as a way of saving themselves from death, each one of them should come up with the most adept aphorisms, the cleverest discourse, and the funniest jokes, all in order to surprise and entertain the caliph.
The first defendant to come before al-Hakim was a man from al-Basra, Abu ‘Ali Muhammad ibn al-Hasan ibn al-Haytham, who was renowned for his profound knowledge of physics and mathematics. The accused bowed respectfully to the caliph. “Ibn al-Haytham,” said al-Hakim. “just recall the things I revealed to you in secret. You asked me what I feared most, and I told you that my single fear was too little water in the Nile. My continual hope was that at irrigation time its level would always reach seventeen cubits so as to avoid inflation in food prices and the need for taxation. In such circumstances I would be faced with famine among my own people, outbreaks of disease, and deaths in large numbers. I would have no other recourse than to make contributions from my own property and force converts to Islam to readopt to their own faith so that I could then reimpose the head-tax and bolster revenues. You came to see me, Ibn al-Haytham, and claimed you could make use of your calculations and mathematical knowledge to increase the Nile’s product whether it was in flood or at lower levels. I commissioned troops of water technicians to inform you about the Nile from its Aswan cataracts all the way to its various stations, branches, and tributaries. The whole thing was a waste of time; your promises were so much hot air. Even so, we chose not to accuse you of breaking a promise. Instead we charged you to investigate other departments, hut now you have started to feign madness. All the documents and numbers were a mess, and the issues ended up in a very sorry state. Just when I was on the point of deciding to take away all your responsibilities, my sources have informed me that your feigned madness was merely a ruse to avoid serving me and escape punishment. Today you stand here burdened by the weight of this cunning deceit; furthermore, my admiration for your mathematical skills is not sufficient to rescue you from the troubles you’ve caused yourself.”