The Qadi Al-Fadil: The Eminent Judge

THE

QADI

AL-FADIL

THE EMINENT JUDGE

SUADA

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Published by AuthorHouse 12/10/2012

ISBN: 978-1-4389-4710-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4772-0289-0 (e)

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Contents

Aknowledgments

Introduction

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

For Faizer

Aknowledgments

I take this opportunity to thank all my friends and family for the encouragement they gave me while I was working on this historical novel. Though it has been an enjoyable process, the work would not have been completed without all the help that I received from them. I would like to mention in particular my friends Lynne and Ivan Lavoie who patiently read through many drafts of this story which in fact I began writing about five years ago; Nalini Devdas, who with gentle reassurance pointed out several inconsistencies and errors in an earlier draft of this work; and finally, my family, particularly, my sister Ummu and her grandson Yusuf, who were most generous and positive about my endeavors.

Suada

October 2012

Introduction

In Medieval times, the Islamic world stretched from Spain and Morocco all the way to India, and Arabic was the language of its people whether they were Jewish, Christian or Muslim. While the Muslims were politically dominant, generally, though not always or everywhere, there was tolerance of other monotheist communities that were, indeed, expected to govern themselves. In the 11th to 12th centuries Egypt in particular had prospered considerably because of the tolerant policies of its rulers. The Red Sea inevitably became the center of trade and its people had furnishings of silk from Iran, teak from India and porcelain from China.

This tale is based on a story from Medieval Egypt which tells of how the famous Chancellor, Ibn Baisan, better known as the Qadi al-Fadil—the Eminent Judge-befriends the well-known Jewish physician philosopher Moses Maimonides who was accused of apostasy. The Qadi al-Fadil had started his career working for the chancery of Egypt, then functioned as a judge and finally ended up as advisor to the Sultan Salah al-Din. Moses, or Musa Ibn Maimun as he was known in the Arab world, on the other hand, was born in Cordoba Spain, from where his father decided to move his family because of hostility towards the Jewish people, first to Morocco, where the whole family apparently converted to Islam, and then to Egypt. Importantly, it was as a member of the Jewish community that the family of Maimonides was made welcome in Egypt.

We have very little information regarding the events that led to the Qadi al-Fadil’s defense of Musa Ibn Maimun. I have built a story around the incident in the hope of introducing the young adult reader to life in the Medieval Islamic world. I have tried to be historical in the presentation of this material, but there is no denying that my imagination has taken a larger place.

The reader needs to be informed of certain terms and details regarding the Islamic world. The term Caliph, for instance is the designation given to the ruler of the Islamic empire. The term literally means successor-in this case to the Prophet Muhammad. A Sultan is subordinate to the Caliph, similar to the manner in which Kings were subordinate to the Popes of Medieval Europe.

The term Sunni is used for the community that claims that the Prophet Muhammad died without nominating a successor. They regard the caliph as simply a political ruler of the land. The Sunni Caliph at the time of the Qadi al-Fadil was a descendant of Abbas, an uncle of the Prophet.

The term Shia is applied to a smaller group of Muslims who believe that the Prophet in fact chose a member of his immediate family as his successor.

The rulers of Egypt who preceded Salah al-Din were Fatimid Shiites: the Fatimids claimed that their Caliph was a direct descendant of Fatima, the daughter of the Prophet, and that he had inherited both religious and political authority from the Prophet. The last Fatimid caliph died without heir, in around 1171; Salah al-Din who though a Sunni Muslim, was both vizier to the Shiite Caliph and General of the Army (sent by the Syrian Sultan to help Egypt fight the crusading invaders from Europe), took the opportunity to claim the territory in the name of the Abbasid Caliph.

Suada

October 2012

Cornwall, Ontario

Al-Qadi al-Fadil Ibn Baisani

Chapter One

It is almost midnight. Asad al-Baisani, better known by his title Qadi al-Fadil (which means the eminent judge), friend and advisor to the late sultan, Malik al-Nasir Salah al-Din Abu al-Muzaffar Yusuf Ibn Ayyub, feels only a burning sorrow, for his master is dead. Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi rajiun—from God do we come and to God must we return—the phrase with which all Muslims respond to the announcement of anyone’s death is the phrase that keeps coming to his lips. It is another scene entirely that his mind’s eye recalls.

It is that of a young Kurdish soldier recently sent as commander of an army by his master, Nur al-Din, the ruler of Syria, to help Egypt safeguard its frontiers against crusader attacks. Roughly the same age as the Qadi himself, he stands before the court of al-’Aadid, the Shiite caliph and ruler of Egypt. The occasion is of his investiture as vizier to the caliph; but the Kurd seems to smile directly at him, his eyes meeting his, as though selecting him above all those who stood around applauding; and this while being honored by the caliph himself! Handsome and clearly confidant, the newly appointed vizier had the bearings of a leader whom any man would be proud to serve, yet lacked the arrogance of one. He was strikingly good looking as well, a veritable Quranic Yusuf, the Qadi thought to himself as he turned away from the gathering once the ceremony was over. Almost in response to his thoughts he heard the unexpected words:

I am Yusuf,

The Qadi, whose gaze had been momentarily fixed to the ground, promptly looked up. It was the Kurd standing right before him with outstretched hand and smiling broadly.

Indeed! the Qadi retorted, wondering how the Kurd could have read his thoughts. But it is political acumen not good looks that are needed here! he added, not used to what he thought was frivolous conversation.

Salah al-Din’s smile broke into a grin. No, no, he said, my name is Yusuf, really, Yusuf Ibn Ayyub. My father named me thus.

The Qadi was embarrassed.

I am Asad. May peace be with you, he responded after a brief hesitation, putting out his hand to grasp the other’s arm at the elbow in cordial recognition of the other.

They soon became firm friends. It turned out, they had much in common. Both had memorized the entire Quran by the age of sixteen; read the same books, loved the same music, had a predilection for the sugar-sweetened-milk-sherbet—sprinkled with a handful of pistachios, and, as well, a passionate love of horses. Moreover Salah al-Din was a scholar at heart and had a high regard for the knowledge the Qadi, Asad al-Baisani, had acquired. And there was something else they shared: the then ruler of Egypt belonged to the smaller denomination of Fatimid Shiite Muslims, to which neither of them belonged. Yet as members of the larger Sunni community who had entered Egypt in their youth, they had both become his willing employees, accepting their status of subordinates without question. The Shiites of Egypt had, after all, conquered both Mecca and Medina the two holy cities of Islam, and therefore claimed the right to be the guardians of the Muslim world.

Fortune had smiled on Salah al-Din as it seldom smiled on any other. Egypt’s caliph died without an heir, and Salah al-Din, who due to the extraordinary circumstances was the de-facto man in charge—he was both vizier and the head of the army—promptly took command of Egypt, Mecca and Medina. And then, when the sultan of Syria, Nur al-Din, died soon after, since Nur al-Din’s son was a mere child, it seemed the most natural thing in the world for Salah al-Din to take the throne, first of Egypt and then, soon enough, after his marriage to Nur al-Din’s beautiful widow, of all the lands of that lady’s previous lord: it was Damascus, the heart of Syria, the city of his childhood, that Salah al-Din called home.

The Qadi’s loyalty to his sultan was not blind. Looking back on the latter’s life he recognized that it had not been exactly ideal; true he had led numerous wars against the unbelieving Christians. But could this compensate for the fact that he had never pilgrimaged to Mecca? And then, there were all those battles he had fought against his own Muslim brethren, joining with those very Christians they had wanted to be rid of; how often had he advised Salah al-Din against such action?

It was in Damascus, the heart of Syria, that Salah al-Din spent his last years. On the 20th of February 1193, the sultan rode out to meet the caravan of the hajj. On that very night he caught the fever. On the morrow, he could not even join his friends for dinner. After that the Qadi would join the sultan at his bedside every evening, only to discover that the stoic patience of the latter was more than he could bear. Sometimes Salah al-Din would cry out for the pain that racked his head, and the Qadi would leave hurriedly to stop the tears from streaming down his face. Despite the general opposition at court to non-Muslims, he sent for the Jew, Musa Ibn Maimun, probably the best known healer in the land, to examine Salah al-Din.

On the ninth day the Sultan fell into a stupor and could no longer take his draughts of medicine. On Sunday, the tenth day of his illness, they fed him a drink of barley, after which he broke into a sweat and everyone gave thanks to God thinking that he had taken a turn for the better. But on the next day, it was by his death bed that they stood. He must have known what lay before him for his eyes seemed to seek the Qadi’s out as though to say farewell. The latter took the Sultan’s hand in both of his: My Lord, he said, desiring to give him some kind of reassurance regarding the future of his name and of his lands, all will be well. I shall see to it myself that the prince al-Afdal is ordained sultan in Damascus, and that the caliph is informed. The family of Ayyub will be united, and your name shall live for many more years. He did not dare say more. Dear friends though they were, they had been at loggerheads for too long on the issue of how his kingdom should be run: the Qadi loved Egypt, the Sultan, Syria. The Qadi desired Egypt’s revenues to be used for Egypt; the Sultan would take every cent for his Damascus.

A wisp of a smile played upon the dying man’s face as he gripped the Qadi’s hand in gratitude. The Qadi kissed him then on both cheeks and left the room. The Aalim, who usually led the prayers continued at the Sultan’s side reciting the chapter Ya-Sin from the Quran. Late that night on the twenty-eighth of Safar 589/1193, the Qadi awakened to the sweet perfume of frankincense and knew that his sultan was no more. At the significant age of fifty-five Salah al-Din had breathed his last.

* * *

It is very early in the morning, and the Qadi rises not because of an inability to sleep but because the melodious strains of the muadhdhin’s call to prayer have awakened him. It is a beautiful mature voice, probably the very best in Damascus, carefully chosen to pronounce the first prayer of dawn after the sultan’s death.

Prayer is better than sleep, he chants, Prayer is better than sleep.

The Qadi makes his way to the outer room, a little extension from the bedroom, moves towards the large jug of water and basin placed there for his use, and proceeds to perform his ablutions. He will make his prayers facing Mecca, as every Muslim must, but today he chooses to do so in his chambers, and not at the mosque to which everyone was probably hurrying at that very moment. He needed to be alone with his thoughts. He spreads out his prayer rug and raises his hands proclaiming the greatness of God, Allahu Akbar, and is immediately immersed in worship of the Almighty. In five minutes he is done for the dawn prayer is the shortest of the five prayers. Without getting off the rug he continues, now cross-legged, to recite the Quranic chapter Ya-Sin. It was customary to recite it three times in the name of the one who has just died. Once done, he rises, folds up his prayer rug, and moves over to his