Tree of Pearls, Queen of Egypt Read online

In those days, Baghdad lay towards the west and the circular capital built by

  Al-Mansur still stood in exactly the same spot, surrounded by the city’s residential quarters, streets, and markets. Th

  ings had changed, however, by the time of

  our story in the thirteenth century. Th

  e city had moved eastwards, and the impe-

  rial complex had disappeared along with Al-Mansur’s capital.

  In the fi rst centuries following its founding, Baghdad was the Mother of Cit-

  ies: the center of imperial trade and of science and poetry, and a magnet for all those who sought wealth and distinction. When the Caliphate began to grow

  weak, conspiracies fl ourished and dissension grew amongst its people. Th

  e most

  devastating of these confl icts was the rift that opened up between Sunna and

  Shi‘a: a deadly breach that was reproduced at the heart of the government. Not a year would go by without some violent confrontation taking place between the

  two communities. Th

  ough the imperial state usually strove to arbitrate these

  confl icts, pressure was most oft en brought to bear on the Shi‘a, since the administration was dominated by Sunnis. Baghdad’s Shi‘a lived mostly in Karkh and

  Qadhimiyya, and while they patiently bore intermittent persecution, the govern-

  ment continued to entrust them with its interests and to delegate important posts to them.

  Th

  e schism in question eventually brought about the fall of Baghdad and

  its occupation by the Tatars under the leadership of Hulagu—a typical chain of

  events in the history of empires. If you but consider the roots of the political upheavals that cause dominion to pass from one dynasty to another, you will

  note that they are most oft en nurtured in the soil of religious or political confl ict between countrymen. Despair overtakes the weaker party once it is forced into

  submission, and it seeks the aid of a foreign people to champion its cause. Th

  ese

  foreigners then bide their time and wait for the right moment to seize power.

  Most, if not all, political revolutions of the period of which we speak unfolded in this manner.

  The Palaces of Baghdad

  the mighty tigris was traversed by two bridges that connected the eastern

  and western parts of the city and served a busy traffi

  c of people and goods. Th

  ese

  bridges were built of wooden planks fi xed to round fl oats. Th

  e more important of

  the two lay between the quarter called ‘Isa’s Palace and al-Rusafa.

  On the eastern banks of the Tigris stood the Caliph’s palaces and Bagh-

  dad’s most illustrious buildings, the most famous of which were the Palace of

  the Crown, the Husayni Palace, the Mustansiriyya School (built by Al-Mustansir

  Billah, father of Al-Musta‘sim Billah), the Nidhamiyya School, the Rihaniyya

  Palace, and the Firdaws Palace. Mu’ayyid al-Din Ibn al-Alqami, Al-Musta‘sim’s

  First Minister, lived in the palace closest to the bridge on the eastern shore. He was a shrewd and capable politician and a loyal advisor who was quick to perceive the Empire’s turbulent state of aff airs and exerted himself to counsel the Caliph wisely. Al-Musta‘sim was a weak-willed and indolent sovereign, but he trusted his First Minister and was usually disposed to heed his judicious advice.

  Th

  e result was oft en less than satisfactory, however, for if the head is dis-

  turbed, the rest of the body’s limbs are sure to come unhinged. It oft en transpires that a ruler is led by fl atterers and favor-seeking courtiers or political men with sectarian interests. If he counts them among his favorites, they do not hesitate to pounce upon his weakness and sow corruption throughout the land. Such a ruler

  refuses to hear a word against his men, and he obstinately shuts his ears to any complaint, however loud.

  So it was with Al-Musta‘sim in those days. He had become a plaything of

  his courtiers and his chiefs of staff , for he loved nothing better than to submerge himself in pleasure of all kinds, gaming, wine, and song, and he was never out of their company for long. His boon-companions and cohorts were made of similar

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  t h e pa l ace s of bagh da d | 

  stuff . Th

  ey too were sunk in luxury and vice, and paid not the least mind to his

  true well-being.

  Even worse, Al-Musta‘sim had taken a path traditionally shunned by his

  imperial predecessors, who had all without exception fi rmly reined in their off -

  spring and closest relatives. It had been so till the last days of Al-Mansur. But when Al-Musta‘sim succeeded to the throne he let his children loose upon the

  land, and this was the cause of much evil. Th

  e oldest of his sons was Abu al-

  ‘Abbas Ahmad, known to the common folk as Abu Bakr. Th

  e youth was spoiled

  and over-proud of his father’s dominion, and he exploited his position to serve

  his personal ends. He especially detested the Shi‘a. He harassed and persecuted

  them bitterly and was wont to insult them openly in public. Th

  ere were those

  in his entourage who encouraged this prejudice for undeclared reasons of their

  own. Mu’ayyid al-Din Ibn al-Alqami was forced to put up with the boy, and he

  oft en complained of him to his father.

  In the meantime, Hulagu the Tatar, grandson of Genghis Khan, had founded

  the Ilkhanid dynasty, the Mongol dynasty of Persia. Once installed in Persia,

  Hulagu had begun to cast his eyes on Baghdad and to plan for a war of con-

  quest. At the time of which we write, he was at war with the Isma‘ilis in Persia.

  He laid siege to their fortresses and he wrote to Al-Musta‘sim to request his aid.

  Al-Musta‘sim was inclined to comply, but his generals forbade it for fear that

  the Khan’s real intention was to strip Baghdad of its defending troops so that it might be the more easily taken. Hulagu succeeded in breaking the Isma‘ili resistance, and he wrote again to Al-Musta‘sim, this time to reprove him. Mu’ayyid

  al-Din Ibn al-Alqami then advised the Caliph to conciliate the Tatar with gold

  and precious gift s. Th

  e Caliph accepted his Minister’s counsel and set about pre-

  paring a rich caravan of gold, jewels, and slaves, but the Dawadar, Commander

  in Chief of the Imperial Armies, protested fi ercely and attempted to cast doubt on the Minister’s loyalty. Th

  e Caliph again yielded, this time to his Dawadar,

  and caused a trifl ing sum to be sent to the Khan instead. Th

  e insult provoked

  Hulagu’s wrath and produced further grave consequences, to which we shall

  soon have cause to return.

  Al-Musta‘sim was oblivious to the reality of his situation, and Mu’ayyid al-

  Din was at a loss as to how to awaken him to its gravity. Th

  e minister thought of

  nothing else. He alone was alive to the great danger that beset the Empire. His

  warnings and his profuse advice to the Caliph were useless. Hulagu meanwhile

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  secretly dispatched messengers to the Abbasid minister with off ers of alliance

  and promises of great rewards should he join the party of the Ilkhids, or tender his assistance in delivering the city to them. Mu’ayyid al-Din hesitated, for he still hoped that the Caliph would come to his senses. Al-Musta‘sim listened to

  his Minister’s counsel and promised to be guided by it, but as soon as Mu’ayyid

  al-Din turned his back, his enemies at court succ
eeded in changing the Caliph’s

  mind by whispering poisonous charges against him. A Shi‘ite, they claimed, was

  of necessity a traitor.

  At the same time, the leading Shi‘a of the city constantly hovered around

  Mu’ayyid al-Din. Th

  ey complained to him of the outrages they suff ered at the

  hands of the Caliph’s son, so that they no longer felt secure of their wealth and property, nor of their honor. Mu’ayyid al-Din did his best to ease their minds and assure them that better days would surely come, but he avoided meeting with

  them in public for fear of the suspicion that might consequently fall upon his own person. He allowed them to visit him only in secret. He knew that Al-Musta‘sim’s spies surrounded him and marked his every breath.

  Mu’ayyid al-Din Ibn al-Alqami

  the day finally came when Mu’ayyid al-Din had had enough of this state of

  aff airs. Of what use were all his eff orts when in the end they served neither himself nor the Empire? On this day he decided to remain at home and while away

  the morning on the terrace that gave out onto the Tigris and the wide panorama

  of al-Rusafa and Karkh. He had caused the structure to be built with this very

  view in mind.

  He dressed himself in a light cloak and turban, and having informed the ser-

  vants that he was indisposed and must on no account be disturbed, he mounted

  to the second fl oor of his mansion. Th

  e terrace was furnished much like an inti-

  mate reception room. It was spread with carpets and cushions, and boasted a

  number of board-games for those of his guests who wished to amuse themselves.

  He sat down next to a chess-board that rested on a large cushion. Th

  e game of

  chess was widely favored in Baghdad in those days amongst men who enjoyed

  vigorous mental exercise, or whose interest in politics made them appreciate the intellectual brinksmanship that the practice of chess inevitably sharpens. He

  toyed restlessly with the pieces ranged on the board and moved them about in

  strategic combinations, but this idle play failed to soothe his troubled spirit.

  He put the pieces aside and rose to take a seat on a high chair whose position

  commanded an uninterrupted view of Baghdad. Th

  e weather was fi ne and his

  eyes ranged unimpeded over the historic city intersected by the blessed Tigris, on whose banks stood the palaces and schools, hospitals and mosques, public baths

  and gardens famed throughout the Empire. His mind wandered and his thoughts

  turned to the history of the city’s founding fi ve and a half centuries earlier. Th e

  Caliphs who had ruled over it succeeded one another in his mind’s eye, and he

  recalled their changing fortunes and the days of its great glory under Al-Rashid, when it was the indisputable capital of the entire Muslim world and the wealth of

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   | t r e e of pe a r l s , qu e e n of e g y p t most of the civilized lands from Turkistan to the Atlantic Ocean poured into its overfl owing coff ers. In those days, the kings of the earth had humbly sought the favor of its great Sultan on bended knee.

  Catastrophe then befell the Barakmids, the true founders of Abbasid glory,

  and their magnifi cence gave way to depravity. Th

  e great dissension between Al-

  Amin and Al-Ma’mun followed, and many souls perished in consequence. Th

  ese

  and other political upheavals had taken place in quick succession, shaking the

  very foundations of the Abbasid State. Petty princelings now imposed their con-

  ditions upon the Empire and began to claim their independence. Fortune hunt-

  ers hungered aft er its riches and, growing bold, they dared to invade the great city. Th

  ese were the days of the upstart Buwayhids and the Seljuks. Th

  e infl uence

  of the Caliphs began to wane, their dominion was confi ned to Baghdad and its

  immediate environs, and they became mere instruments in the hands of their

  own administrations. Th

  eir dreams of glory faded away and their ambitions were

  increasingly confi ned to wine, song, and the pleasures of the fl esh.

  Th

  is sorrowful rumination turned Mu’ayyid al-Din’s thoughts once more to

  the present Caliph. His gaze fell upon the Palace of the Crown across the river

  on the left bank of the Tigris. Lush gardens and great fl owering trees circled its perimeter, and it boasted a fi ne marble pier along which a number of sturdy vessels were moored. He tried to imagine what this palace must have looked like a

  century earlier. Its façade had been built upon fi ve arches, each arch made up of ten slabs of marble fi ve cubits long. A great fi re had reduced it to a blackened shell, and the gorgeous slabs of marble were replaced with baked brick. Th

  e marble

  with which it had been built at the end of the ninth century by order of the newly invested Caliph Al-Muktafi Billah had come from the ruins of the White Palace of the Sassanian Khosraus, of which nothing now stood but the Great Hall.

  Some of this precious material had also been used to pave the pier. Th

  is architec-

  tural history struck Ibn al-Alqami as off ering a lesson of sorts. “And so the world turns,” he sadly mused. “Th

  e Abbasids destroyed the palaces of the Persian kings

  and built their own with the rubble that remained. Now it is the turn of the Imperial Palaces to fall into ruin. All praise to He who alone endures!”

  Th

  e daily hubbub made by the students of the Mustansiriyya School next

  door suddenly interrupted his reverie. In those days the school was at the height of its glory. It had been built by Al-Musta‘sim’s father, Al-Mustansir Billah, who had staff ed it with professors of jurisprudence and hadith, mathematics and

  m u ’ay y i d a l-di n i bn a l-a l qa m i | 

  medicine, zoology and geography, and many other sciences. Mu’ayyid al-Din’s

  restless gaze wandered over the public baths of Baghdad. Th

  e people of Baghdad

  were wont to paint their bath-houses with pitch from a famous spring located

  between Basra and Kufa, and their shiny blackness stood out darkly against the

  blue sky. Ibn al-Alqami had never before paid attention to this peculiar feature, and suddenly the black line of buildings on the horizon appeared to him to be an evil omen massed over the waiting city.

  A sudden din rose from the courtyard below and he heard voices raised in

  dispute. He strained his ears and picked out the voice of a man demanding to

  see him, and the servant’s shrill insistent reply: “His Excellency the Minister is indisposed and will receive no one, I say!”

  Mu’ayyid al-Din was familiar with that other voice, and rather glad to hear

  it. He rang a nearby bell that communicated with the ground fl oor of the pal-

  ace, and one of his pages immediately responded to the call. He demanded the

  cause of the hubbub, and the boy replied, “A stranger seeks an audience with your Excellency and refuses to take no for an answer.”

  “I know his voice. You may admit him.”

  Th

  e page withdrew and returned a moment later followed by the person in

  question. He wore Persian garb and his features were of Persian cast. Mu’ayyid

  al-Din greeted him warmly. “Sahban, welcome!”

  Sahban fell upon the Minister’s hand and kissed it, but Mu’ayyid al-Din

  quickly withdrew it and embraced him instead. He off ered him a seat beside his

  own and ordered the servant to leave them. “How long have you been in Bagh-

>   dad, my friend?”

  “I arrived last night, my Lord.”

  “And from where do you come?”

  “From Egypt.”

  “From Egypt? I recall having seen you here in this very city not long ago.”

  “Indeed. I was at Baghdad, then I left for Cairo and now I am returned,”

  Sahban replied grinning.

  “A speedy journey!”

  “Am I not a travelling merchant who plies his trade between Baghdad and

  Cairo? When my goods are sold, I return to procure more. Th

  e discomforts of the

  journey are no matter to me.”

  Mu’ayyid al-Din smiled. “So now you devote your time to trade, Sahban?”

   | t r e e of pe a r l s , qu e e n of e g y p t Sahban let out a brisk laugh. “Is there any occupation more profi table than

  trade, my Lord Minister?”

  Th

  e irony of this sally was not lost on Mu’ayyid al-Din. “Perhaps you are right,

  my friend,” he sighed. “Government service is futile—and woe to the minister, for his hard labors are all in vain. Th

  e days of true leadership are over and done with.”

  “Th

  e offi

  ce of First Minister is the most noble of government posts, my

  Lord,” Sahban declared, “for it is the Minister who commands and forbids.” Sah-

  ban coughed meaningfully, then he took out his handkerchief and slowly wiped

  his mouth.

  “Do you believe that the Minister is as indispensable today as he used to be

  in former times, Sahban?” Mu’ayyid al-Din absently wondered.

  “Even more so in these black days of imperial impotence!” Sahban vehe-

  mently replied.

  Mu’ayyid al-Din shook his head sadly. “Th

  e weak hearken not to advice, for

  their ears are given over to slaves and eunuchs.”

  “Have you no remedy for this weakness, my Lord?” His voice had grown

  deadly serious.

  Mu’ayyid al-Din raised a brow. “What mean you, friend?”

  Sahban stared deeply into Mu’ayyid al-Din’s eyes. “Th

  e man of whom we

  speak is as a corrupt limb. Th

  e surgeon must order its amputation lest the disease

  invade the rest of the body.”

  Mu’ayyid al-Din was shocked by this audacity. He frowned at his guest as

  he prepared to reproach him, but Sahban hastened to resume. “You consider my