MH

Das römische Denken hatte die griechischen Wörter übernommen – ohne die entsprechende gleichursprüngliche Erfahrung dessen, was sie sagen, ohne das griechische Wort. Die Bodenlosigkeit des abendländlichen Denkens beginnt mit diesem Übersetzen.

Roman thought had adopted Greek words without any lived experience of them, without an experience which corresponded to what they originally denoted. The groundlessness, the abyssmalness of western thought began with this transference, this translation.

Roman thought had adopted tens of thousands of Greek words without any lived experience of them, without an experience which corresponded to what they originally denoted. The groundlessness, the abyssmalness of western thought began with this transference, this translation. Then the abyss was deepened when European thought adopted christian-orientalist words for Arabic terms without having experienced what they actually meant, often avoiding a transliteration which might well have been an impulse to understanding.

(Lightly expanded with thanks to MH, from his Der Ursprung des Kunstwerkes, pp.13-14).

Although things are beginning to change.

Said he, ‘If he was so close to tawhid, then how was it that it could not make the leap, not open the door and enter?’

Said she, ‘Well, clearly Islam was not written for him; but if you require reasons and causes, then perhaps the following:

He inherited a language burdened with luggage from the past as the article above this one makes clear. He also got caught up in the subject-object/rationality-iman dichotomies, and had no access to Arabic: Thomas Aquinas got the goods from Ibn Rushd – who did pose these questions – but only to still the unease of certain low-brow ulama; he himself had no problem; it became Aquinas’ problem which in turn became Europe’s problem’.

He said, ‘Que?’

She said, ‘Put it like this: in the first instance: there is often no need for the sein-verb in Arabic, and so the subject-complement issue does not arise: Qul huwa Allah ahad – literally ‘Say: ‘Allah One’, there being no verb necessary; why? you might ask – perhaps because kaana, the verb for ‘to be/sein‘, also contains the meaning ‘to create’, and so any understanding is inconceivable without the mukawwin, the Bringer into being of the kawn, i.e. creation.

He said, ‘Ah ha, and what about rationality-iman?’

She said, ‘Let me read you something MH said – just to point out the weight of religious baggage encumbering [European] languages:

“The inclination to hold that the material-form-composition of things is the constitution of every existent being gains additional impetus on the basis of a prior belief, namely the biblical, that the whole of being is conceived of as something created, i.e. fabricated”.

The philosophy of this belief can, it is true, aver that all creative working of god is to be conceived of as different from the action of the artisan. If however at the same time, or even in advance, as a consequence of an understanding of the Thomist philosophy of pre-determination regarding the interpretation of the Bible, the ens creatum is conceived of as issuing from the oneness of material and form, then a belief arising out of a philosophy may be inferred whose truth rests in a revealing of Being which is of a different sort than that of a world that is conceived of in belief.

This concept of Creation, based on a belief, can now of course, lose its dominant strength with regard to knowledge of Being as a whole. Only the once employed theological interpretation of all beingness, the view of the world according to material and form, borrowed from a foreign philosophy, can nevertheless remain. Its metaphysic too rests on the medievally characterized form-material composition which only recalls in mere words the buried nature of εἶδος (form) and ύλη (matter). Thus the understanding of a thing according to form and matter, be it still medieval or transformed into Kantian-transcendental, has become something common, a matter of course. However for this reason it is no less than the other mentioned interpretations of the thingness of a thing an assault on the being inherent in the thingness of a thing.

She continued, ‘I think it shall now be clear to you that if we ditch the Thomist baggage of European thought and recommence from where the Greeks left off as MH has indicated – or more simply, reconnect to what Ibn Rushd actually said and did – then the jump becomes feasible for all who are bold.

Illicitlove, a colourful commentary

dédié à ZombaAydee et à l’innommable, ou plutôt l’inavouable

Musica praeludium vitae aeternae – Die Musik ist das Vorspiel zum ewigen Leben

Excerpt from Preface to First Edition

‘Although incomprehensible to many without an orientalist background, the narrative has merit if understood in a strictly historical, archival, museal context, i.e. as a record of the “Epoch of the Great Majority” and with an awareness of the tribulations undergone by the author at the hand of what he terms “the Hippos”‘, Prof. Emeritus Hardstein, Ex. Head of Dept. for Revisionist Studies, University of Towing on Lyme, Hants.

As to the title, it refers to two things: the first, the science of tasawwuf which today has been reduced to iconic werlingderwishes performing for tickets or the kamera; the second, to the underlying forces contributing to this reduction, alluded to in the course of the narrative, but which cannot be named explicitly due to the ferocious censorship regulations.

Part 1

Prologue

Señor Leonfeliz Mouney took pictures of people; if there were birds, trees, plants or landscapes these were usually merely background; but he made an exception today and snapped up all the Liberty Caps in view. He had recently learned they were illicit and had flown into a mild rausch of incomprehension. Pretty pictures of them would enlighten him and others, he thought.

So who had deemed them legally noxious? He contacted his soul-companion Prof. Bowerliesse who reassured him that it was a minor matter of major import and that the now-stateless scientists, among them the renowned Dr Achmed ben Al-Rachmaanov, would soon be rehabilitated to the rank of arch-lawyers and so be able to dissolve the structured maze of statutes on which the prohibition was based.

‘But heads would fall’, said Sallma to Mouney, who had accompanied him on the waldgang and was now preparing the thé, ‘Haven’t you heard the news? Hayy has fled to Italy, to somewhere in the Appenines or the Grotte di Frassassi, along with two or three students’. ‘Fled? Mouney asked, ‘No far closer to the truth is that he is at the court of the outlawed mountain king in the company of the best. Impetuous perhaps, as was Lord Umar, but more thirsty than head-strong, not surprising being a descendent of Janszoon van Salee. But what is he doing for money?’ ‘Gold’, she answered. ‘Ah, your African dowry, I suppose, most generous, seul les femmes connaissent le prix de l’or’. ‘No, said she, he didn’t explain, but assured me he had the stuff and a lot of it and of the highest quality.’ ‘He’s calling them to the Truth’, said Dulcet Briest stuffily, who had remained seated almost unseen, ‘he’s unhappy that all is soon prohibited: you know of course that with us all is permitted until it is known to be forbidden while amongst others all is forbidden unless declared licit.’ ‘Indeed’, said Sallma, and is love still licit?’ she enquired of Mouney almost impertinently. ‘O to be sure, he replied, all but the Great Passion.’ ‘Then we must help him for his love is of that kind!’ she responded.

At that moment the girls appeared from the garden and hearing his last words recognised the ancient Toureg ditty and repeated it in chorus, in Tamazigt. ‘Bravo!’ exclaimed Sallma, ‘I must remember to give Fr. Fateema an extra ducat, bakhsheesh ist nicht gleich Bestechung’. ‘Indeed’ ventured Dulcet, who had been once married to a man from Fars, ‘its meaning prior to the Epoch of the Great Majority was Fortune, lot, a generous giving, a making of a present’.

In truth the gold had come from a secret mine to the far north where the salmon still coursed the lightly polluted waters around Suðuroy, its veins so plump that just a handful of men, a score of robotic drills and a sleek cutter, registered with the local tourist agency, covered Hayy’s costly itineries. He had become rich and now wondered why nobody noticed; true his company Goldsplendide was flourishing, indeed was tax-free, a concession negotiated with the seigneur of Suðuroy – who enjoyed a certain autonomy from DaneMark – in return for his funding of DetoxHaus, the island’s thought and gymnastics dynamo engaged to promote an independent local economy: too long had the islanders suffered the data-waves of ‘guidelines’ from the ZentralGov; even talk now of introducing polling booths ‘protected’ by the military, as had become the custom in many mainland urban districts.

III

Donyasgombro was determined to be at Les célébrations folkloriques, as they had been billed, next week, of HM Adeel, the Mountain King. She had asked Sallma to accompany her but the latter was still recovering from the birth of her latest and the legal stress of separation from Mouney, – [She had understood and accepted the legal justification for his taking a second, but the dame he had in mind she could not stomach; Mouney for his part, bursting into leaf, as it were, felt compelled to avail himself of the bounty of His Lord, but recognized the difficulty of Sallma, and so they sundered still good friends: there was no question of a mistress, girlfriend, betrayal – or ‘cheating’ on her, as the yellow press so quaintly say, for both saw the wisdom and divine equity in manygamy, given it was a passionate path to their Lord through obedient worship and a fitra state of multiple companionship] – but otherwise as carefree as the wind, albeit mindful of the dangers on the highway for a female on her tod; the change of school too – which Dulcet had queried, ‘Why’ and she had retorted ‘a good one’. ‘A good one’, said she? ‘Yes, an aristo-joint where at least the kideez and kidesses have more in their heads than news from the translucent dome. Transdome? asked Briest, ‘Indeed the empty one in Perleene’. ‘O surely’ Lady Sallma ‘you are not calling into question the DemioHumano who grants us our safety and residence? You are aware I know that we are bound in that léger allegiance-bond to the authorities that be; yesterday the Ordnus issued a tele-communication that only relijus duties were to be acknowledged as legal, and that they were to be subsumed into Grist.h.Pokus; I don’t know whether it is from the DH but it seems so’. ‘O Lord!’ cried Lady S., ‘this is really the end of Truth’. ‘What do you mean?’ enquired Briest, ‘what are these relijus dues?’ ‘It means’ said Lady S. ‘that we shall still have the right to perform the sala in the Houses, still travel to the Black Cube, still possibly be allowed to fast in the Month of Ashes and to choose the names of our children, albeit subject to G.h.P, but trade, the tax of purification, open air markets, payment for goods in gold and silver and the greeting of peace in the streets shall be effectively proscribed – shall have no legal effect’. ‘But this is life retorted Briest’. Indeed and that is death’, said Lady S, ‘they’ve reduced everything to names’, as they did to HM Adeel. ‘It is the work of the Hyppos at BookZentro1’. ‘But I thought they were also submitttees’, said Briest. ‘O outwardly, yes, she replied, but inwardly, at war, financed directly by MoneyPrint1.’

‘Lets move to the shade’, said Donyasgombro perspiring beneath the midday summer sun. ‘Strange the call to prostration has not been made’, she added – stranger still as she was usually the least likely to respond to it, afflicted as she was by a curious and popular blind-spot: the tendency to recurring criticisms or eulogies of a highly mental character without any connection to her own existential state. ‘It’s fallen foul of G.h.P’s curtailment’, explained Sallma, ‘even tho’ deemed relijus up to now, it’s now classified as nlt, normal-life threatening, something to do with its obvious connection to the heart: it might awaken people to action and have them leave the safe haven of cerebrality’; ‘according to one of the hippos, iman must be corralled into pure belief and thrown into the rubbish bin of Unconsciousness, as Prof. Bowerliesse has noted – trust in Allah and His Messenger, after all, would be far too dangerous a reality: it results in the illumination of every object and action of life – such that the dinars and dirhams themselves, for example, can become imbued with meaning, can become means of worship, can become relijus, if I may make the jump back into demiohumanus-speak.’

They made wudu by the nearby stream and prostrated under the apple tree deeming the local House too normal; ‘lets hope this lasts, the water beyond is often too chlorinated for legal use’ said Dulcet sententiously, to which Donyasgombro retorted, ‘and what of the filth in your purse?’ The children threw sticks at the tiny new-forming apples.

Dulcet Briest decided to wear her pink dress and acacia scarf, to cheer her up, and to greet Donyasgombro that night who had invited her to the Les Célébrations Folkloriques and wanted to discuss how best to go there; some had denigrated her going alone, she had heard. She had met señor Mouney in the afternoon and had happened to complain of BookZentro1’s new ordinance compelling writing-apps to write Gristian and Chews with caps, and Muslims with lower case. ‘Don’t get downed by detail, see the Gesamtbild’, he had said. ‘But the rot begins with such detail’, she reposted, and I use these apps every day at the office’. ‘Ah but the rot has long been in larva phase; now the flies have hatched and the body has almost been consumed. If you want a statistic, he went on, and I distrust them mathematically, then ninety nine point nine percent of what he brought, on whom be peace and blessings, has fallen into the academic pot of oblivion.’ ‘Aren’t you exaggerating somewhat?’ she persisted. ‘Speak to Sallma again, she knows’ he replied, and don’t forget the Hippos were somewhat unnerved by the buddhist’s genocide of the Rohingas, it didn’t fit the peace-pic disseminated by DemioHumano and the latter hadn’t supplied any hints on how to deal with the matter – so they had to come up with something half-heartedly detailed to show they were still busily awake, and which might appease if necessary.

Señor Mouney was seeing Donyasgombro and Dulcet off as they boarded the bus disguised as a renaissance cultural tourist vehicle to Firenze, Grotte di Frassassi, i.a., ‘Here’s a tub of the best for the King’ he said, handing them a large oak cask of foxglove, gorse and quince blossom honey, ‘potency in a gentle base, f. glove for the heart, gorse for the yellow light and quince for delight. I got a ticket for Lona Mufakkir; he has already boarded, could protect you if necessary, he’s strong enough; but its rather for the companionship – for his: he’s withdrawing more and more; off-balance too, confided in me the other day that he thought Gide’s push off the train without any motive was not unsimilar to a pure qurba for Allah – “no nafs in it”, he said, so must be worth something.’ ‘Sounds mental to me’, said Donyasgombro, ‘anyway he’s long been hiding under the cloak of his beautiful wife, it’s time he connected; the root of the matter, the source of the malaise is his lack of commitment to Hayy and his fading understanding of Prof. Bowerliesse: he hasn’t yet realized that obedience to leaders is equal to sabr, forbearance with their nafs – for by Allah they are serving him in reality; a dose of the Hayy bin Yaqdhan’s feral child would revive him. If you would allow…. I would continue, I kept his company for some time and know his pain.’ ‘Surely, go on’, said Donyasgombro, ‘Yes, indeed’, added Dulcet. ‘Well to continue in the vein of interspecies friendship – for there’s time awhile – I see the driver hasn’t finished his ristretto: he flew with eagles amongst the highest peaks, made his eyrie along with Peregrine falcons, dined on the choicest of fresh meat, breathed the purest air and drank from clear streams. He was known as Monsieur Tragos at that time, before he was given his name of submission; but wheeling one day over a medium size, Swiss mountain he spied a herd of transhumance goats and felt fatally drawn back to them: he swooped own and metamorphosed into his prior state. His fall was a real nietzschean tragedy, from low to high and back to low, but without the chorus, satyrs or dithyrambs. You two shall be his cure.

The cypresses loomed silhouetted against the mountains as the bus approached the caves; few passengers remained; the endless road-checks had frightened them off. ‘They’ve overdone the fairy lights,’ said Donyasgombro, eyeing the extravagant neon displaying the sights and events programmed for the celebrations. They’re part of the divine deception replied Dulcet, at least that’s what Sallma said: ‘Kingship is only possible if people want something higher for themselves and now that fitra is at its lowest ebb in history it degenerates into a fairy tale in children’s books, or folklore as here – but its core remains embedded to grow again like a green shoot when the time is ripe’.

The bus came to a halt near the main square and they walked through the darkness to their hotel. Lona left to stay with a friend; he had spoken little during the journey but had invited them to afternoon ristrettos and torta di lamponi at an alpine wayside cafe, contenting himself with viewing the lofty, jagged mountain peaks and commenting. ‘Come sono potenti i pioli’. On parting to their rooms bone-tired, Dulcet suggested, ‘We can relax tomorrow – its red carpet day for HM and the visiting digs, let’s invite Don Ahmad and Sakeena out for lunch on the terrace here – and catch up with the news’. ‘Do you trust Lona?’ Dulcet suddenly asked, ‘Why this all of a sudden’ replied D.sg. ‘Listen! the time and place is jumpy, Hayy once told his gathered people at the mine: this all depends on you, your trust of each other and of me, of your iman in Him and His Messenger and holding to your word – Lona’s trust in Him and His M. is scratchy, his trust in our people weak and his words shifting; and he has no close companion – when I asked him who he was going to stay with he wouldn’t say.’ ‘But didn’t Hayy also finish those words with ‘The mumin is gullible by nature’, and why would Mouney have put him on the same bus with us.’ ‘Well, let’s be Navaho and keep our ears to the ground.’

The following morning at breakfast they were surprised to see Compte Chia de la Reasonne, chief commissioner of the YouEnn for Refugee Trade, a big fish, thought Dulcet, for such a faded four-star, the only one however for miles around; the arch en. of Hayy: Le Compte controlled ‘medical’ and ‘food’ supplies to the camps worldwide and the massive brigade of slaves of grade z status in the lagers willing to assist him in moving girls, boys and magic bullets to the major urbanations, a hobby of his – for he was past collecting finance-numbers; of course he also had another sideline with the Farmaprofs granting them licences to try out new medicines on the slaves and with the AgriNutro corps interested in feeding them their powdered wonder foods. Twice Hayy had paid him heavily to get his ingots through YouEnn paperwork: ‘The only positive aspect about him – he demanded payment in kind; and I should add, understands the democratic reality of his organisation: no equality for the ransoming of his captured aid-workers – if white, off-white or ‘educated’, then a ratio of 75 to 1 is paid in relation to a grade z status slaveugee’. Chia’s partner at the table was a bearded, arab mulla from one of the vassal ‘states’, invited by HM to give credence to Paris’ insistence on relijus tolerance.

Later, going out to meet Don Ahmad and Sakeena beneath the shade of the olive trees they were delighted to encounter Señor Mouney with Mesdames Hafza and Ruqayya, ‘a spontaneous coming’, they responded to the obvious surprise. ‘Sorry not to see Khadeeja’ interjected D.sc. to which Hafza replied, ‘She’s freeing up Ruqayya and myself, may Allah increase her’.

Permission had been sought by Prof. B. for armed guards to be stationed around the perimeter of the torch-lit arena where the conference was to be held; unobtrusive but each wielding a massive elektrocudgel – as a courtesy to the renegade islamic banker who had become notorious after urging his ex-clients to launder their scheingeld by withdrawing their numbers and buying up instead tangible assets; perhaps obtained by royal idhn as they had been officially incorporated into the horse-guard, Fantasia, assigned to guard HM on arrival.

No-one had seen him arrive but Almigliore, the local ambassador, and Prof. B., but suddenly HM was present, amid a flurry of protocol and intimate greetings. He signalled to Dr Achmed ben Al-Rachmaanov to open proceedings with the first lecture, ‘Gold and Silver: Not even so little as a handful of fodder’. The Dr. demonstrated the importance of dirhams and dinars, taking as his anchor a statement of Ibn ‘Arabi’s, ‘All material things are gross and dark… but the light contained in the world of archetypal realities, or rather the orig. picture-likenesses in the Unseen of the ephemeral, does manifest in the world of the tangible, corporeally and specifically, and may be perceived as one would material realities’ – i.e. not just as mediums of exchange but as spiritual encounters. Prof. B. clapped enthusiastically at the close, acknowledging both the lucidity of delivery and the rapidity with which his student had made the jump into gesamt-ness via the post-gristian bridge of tawhid. Don Ahmad was passionately speechless, often reticent by nature.

Signora Kyu Sheeba took the platform for the second speech: ‘Unisex Machines’.

‘Were you there?’ said Hafza to Donyasgombro. ‘For sure, dynamite for the sleepy wives – I had to relate it to Dulcet, she was delivering some honey from Mouney to the King’s diwan – let me read you the bit I wrote out for her – no harm in our conning it: “Men did see women – and quite rightly so – as a piece of livestock in their care – and I say that with the best meaning. That is what we are, a very fine, very high level of livestock! ‘We ‘aint machines!’ If we become machines then we are unisexual – and by the way I saw, quite by chance, in the hotel sauna, three of those femascs they claim are multiplying so fast in the civilised lands – all with multifarious genitals . We are the same as men and that is where the problem lies. The corporate woman, the banking woman, the president, she is the same. ‘What do I need you for?’ A machine does not need another machine. In fact, the only connection now is between computers and the network, and the man sits there tapping away with his fingertips at his computer. He does not get his arms filthy looking after the horse.”‘

Just before high noon Prof. Bowerliesse delivered the key note speech, ‘Kingship, a tafsir of His words ta’ala: “Allah has appointed Talut to be your king.” They said, “How can he have kingship over us when we have much more right to kingship than he does? He has not even got much wealth!” He said, “Allah has chosen him over you and favoured him greatly in knowledge and physical strength. Allah gives kingship to anyone He wills.”‘

‘I would like to begin by welcoming HM, inshallah’ – and then he paused, ‘I hesitate to use this word as in common parlance its meaning has been corrupted into “perhaps” and is often used as a cover for inactivity; but I will nevertheless declare it, resolved to have it mean what it means if rendered dependent on action. So inshallah, dear King, what I have to say is a prelude to our support of your governance.

Graf Bleckdschaan landed his old blue Cessna in the early morning Ancona sunshine and met with Mouney before a red eye in the lounge. They briefly visited the harbour to sup a brodetto before turning the citron Porsche inland. Accompanied by wheeling seagulls, Mouney uttered, ‘They are only held up by the All-Merciful’ and fingered his plastic tasbih which glowed faintly in the dusk, a present from the great Benghazi lord. The moon of Rajab appeared as they turned towards an olive covered slope towards Frassassi and he asked ‘Why the detour?’ to which the Graf answered, ‘I like to see the lie of the land before the event’. Near the caves he remarked, ‘Per me la giustificazione più chiara per il raqs e il samaa’ è che il Popolo è sempre in dhikr: e che sia in volo, davanti allo schermo o semplicemente a pulire le finestre della casa, l’adorazione è in corso.’ They halted for spring water tumbling from a roadside rock-face and recited the wird, ‘Its the terroir that makes for a fine champagne or cheese’ he commented, ‘and no less the water; strange how this is no longer admissible in the case of men and women’.

The grand royal marquee glowed on a slope beneath the greater cave. Graf Bleckdschaan eyed the smaller harlequin tents dotted around it – as an invitee, no doubt one of those his quarters for the following three days. Huge cauldrons hung over open fires in preparation for the thousands of guests expected for the moussem. Among the liveried servants he thought he spotted Hayy busy carrying logs from a pile beneath the cypress trees, humble in his riches. The white robed Quran group charged with sura al-Baqara had almost finished their recitation at the entrance to the marquee and those with Al ‘Imran were preparing to replace them.

Graf Bleckdschaan and Señor Mouney drove to the nearest Clearing and had themselves and car checked for digibugs – after verifying their identity with numbers, letters and signs: ‘The multifarious checks and passwords are not on a par with transacting while highwayrobbers are at large’, said a robotic screen voice, at which both remembered the basis of his deen, on whom be peace and blessings, namely, that everything of his life from his bed to his ghazwas was exposed to the view of his wives and Companions”. They threw their connectors into the acid-incinerator and bought new ones. ‘Lets gets some paper, the plastic’s still too webbed, despite the hype’ he said spying a grey-haired, wizened figure clothed in a faded crimson muraqqa beneath a walnut tree at the exit. ‘Peace be on you’ and smiling gently in recognition the old man unbuttoned his muraqqa to reveal an ample waistcoat of myriad pockets each stuffed with the fiats of the world; ‘Only gold or silver, he said, ‘as they proferred him some northern fiat’, New York, Peking and Rome are falling. Here take some with you,’ scooping up double handfuls of nuts from a pile beside him, as he bad farewell with ‘mudds the word!’

Señor Mouney connected to Prof. Bowerliesse to discuss the dhikr protocol; Allahu akbar! came back the reply, with a menu. A plaque to Khaled al-Asaad who died defending the antiquities of Palmyra was being mounted by his son at an official motorway mosque; ‘no comment’, commented Mouney; ‘Whole societies have passed away before your time, so travel about the earth and see the final fate of the deniers’ said Bleckdschaan. ‘Ha’, a call from Hayy – ‘Lets meet at La Pasta Sfoglia’.

They hardly recognised him in the corner bent over a TangYang GongFu with his man Isa Alptekin; and still less when they sat facing him and saw the fresh Berber scarms to his temples and cheeks, and his hennaed hair. ‘Had to be – the pulsating red of the Hippo stirred them up and I’m now on gulag list 0,’ he said, ‘Aksil, the hafidh, up at the royal tent did it just now.’ ‘And why’, enquired Mouney? ‘I had to hamstring him to give us time, and said more was to come if Isa’s family were sent back to the Middle Kingdom – he’s in Visa1 and wouldn’t accept bakshish; they’d have been electroded daily, kids included – albeit with a lighter dose, until Isa returned.’ ‘Yes, it only exacerbates their crimes when Transdome assures the voices that sanctions shall be implemented because – as TradePrime has made clear – they only apply to goods of minor importance or commodities required to fall in price at the Casino’ said Bleckdschaan, adding, ‘Bizness1 has it all orkestrated, and this leit-motiv is a dirge to competition; they’ve now actively prohibited bimetallics in Nusantara, the most populous Muslim entity, as they claim, deliberately forgetting India of course.’ ‘I hear, said Mouney, that Dr Achmed has been rehabilited – a formal, legal, critique couched as an impediment to the “free market” might bung up admin for a while and allow Chia to issue Hayy an immunity’. ‘We must call that damned count to submission, objected Bleckdschaan, before anything else; his taqia is too complicated for trust’. Emilio Manchata suddenly appeared with bignè con salsa al tartufo, ‘On the house signore, and the back room is at your disposal should you desire the salat; my musselman amici here say the local mosque is full of eyes’.

VII

Herr Dizni Mendes in his sheeny, blue-grey, holly-wood double-breasted greeted Yunus coolly. ‘Listen I’m kaputt and I heard you’ve heard – so clip yourself one of these, handing him a fat Romeo y Julieta, calm down and say yes or no.’ ‘You’ll have to get someone else, that skripti of yours is a dog’. ‘Sei kein Depp’, Dschonny, ‘the rewrite is a must, the investors will pull out otherwise, the shareholders have already scheduled a meeting tomorrow; listen we’ll fix Frau Amba, one of my tasty Moldovian starlettes can call on her, how about it?’ I’ll get Fudayl ibn ‘Iyad or Bishr al-Haafi to stunt for you if you wish.

While Donyasgombro sat with Sakeena above the koi pool in the hotel garden, a leaf fell near a great, snapping, yellow exemplar, ‘Not a leaf falls but He knows it’, she commented, ‘why don’t you stay – you’ll be involved anyway with some of the qasidas’. ‘I must fizz, Don Ahmad is gathering the diwan singers for the final practice.’ ‘Then please tell Sallma I need company, Yunus connected and told me Dizni and a party of dervish dancers from the Anatolian Cultural Ministry have just touched down in Bleckdschaan’s plane at Ancona. He’s left them to rest but shall be here soon’. ‘Well perhaps I will stay, I’d like to meet Yunus. I’ve heard he’s a five-a-day man, has kicked the licka and coca – but all the drunker for it – and is combining the silver screen with corsair trading off Jabal at-Taariq, with many thanks to Hayy.’ ‘He’s upset with the new scriptwriter they had to engage after Shaykh al-Qasimi had confirmed the deen of John Ward – that he did indeed become Captain Yusuf Reis, a true man of Allah, and with him the whole of his crew; of course the door was his love and subsequent marriage to Voada, may Allah be pleased with her, for her great service to the deen in this, but it blossomed into something beyond earthly love.’ ‘Too hot apparently’, commented Donyasgombro , ‘In Holly Wood, you can’t have one single leading figure affirm the truth and then be followed by all his followers, sounds too tribal, too afrikan; what next indeed! And more threatening, in their estimation, was that he was not an aloof, soft-spoken, faith-brother, a Glaubensbruder, I think was the term Herr Dizni used, with a head full of pious beliefs, but a vigourous seeker of knowledge who spontaneously adopted, or at least barely paused before adopting, the action corresponding to his knowledge. What made matters worse was his most astute and mature connection to Uthman Dey, the Amir of Tunis; almost aristotelian said Sallma. Giles M., you know the rather nice academic Dizni sometimes calls on for historic info, said they had no alternative but to turn him into Jack Sparrow. Oh! and what upset them perhaps the most was that he has three wives, all legit, and that he “continued my upkeep, even after going native,” as his ex. in Faversham admitted; or “Amal follows iman like siamese twins”, as Dr Achmed legally put it; not at all like the boring, bourgeois contract killers, so in film vogue, who skilfully butcher a bunch of innocents in seeking the prey, pocket a carryall weighty with the paper wherewithal, then return to the one wife and kids to hide this bounty, and the next day treat themselves to a harlot in Harlem.’

VIII

Herr Dizni had the arc-lights dimmed, too much reflected light from the calcite formations. He had been assigned the major cave for two nights shooting of his Royal Rainbow in return for incorporating it into ‘Les célébrations folkloriques’, an extra tourist boost; the minor cave below it had been reserved by one of the King’s men, ‘a most fitting camouflage for the moussem’ lauded Bowerliesse, ‘the dancing dervishes and the gnawa troupe to distract the masses while the People of the raqs get down to the real business, may the pretty damn scary One protect us!’ .

Banks of blue-black cloud had been gathering over the ridge beyond the marquees, and a few plump drops were now pitching down on to the dry earth. ‘The Shaykh of Shaykhs is coming’ said Sallma to a group of fuqara from the east, as she coordinated the two events, greeting the guests, assigning tents and making sure that apparent hippos and foot-light crews were directed to the major cave. A flash of lighting blitzed the horizon followed by booming thunder – ‘The thunder glorifies His praise, as do the angels, out of fear of Him. He discharges the thunderbolts, striking with them anyone He wills. Yet still they argue about Allah’ said a muscular, chink-eyed faqir whose tarboush marked him from Uzbekistan. ‘Allah, Allah, yes, the divine kitchen, replied Sallma, is at hand, lightning, thunder, rain – and fresh mud to secure the moorings of the wayfarers, may we be baked to perfection!’

Markus Schleichhaut, aka Sümer Alewi, of Transdome Intelligence North, followed Muljam Sabbah’s movements as a strapped the stuff to his vest. Why not just chuck it at them’? he enquired. ‘Oh’ he replied, dropping his unlit marlborough, ‘but I’m what the woker media experts call a nihilislamist ; no fun surviving’. Markus had become his minder after a tip-off that Muljam was a potentially ripe recruit, finding him with a gang of low-lifes in a techno-bar in Helsinki, downing vodka-limes between high-end, all-night gaming bouts; still a five a day man when in company, and still a lingering memory of the truth, but he would ween him off these in the crucial hours to come. ‘Here’s a map of the cave, the major one, and our official invites’, he said, handing M. too his final I.D.; and learn this off by heart if anyone suspects, it’s one of the gifts of their so-called Path – tell them it’s from the Diwan of Shakyh Muhammad ibn al-Habib and you should be alright: “The tenth is that the heart of the wayfarer is enriched beyond need and anything he strives for is rendered easy”; and speak about tasawwuf if you get into conversation, not sufism, a lot of people have rumbled the soofywoofy cover of ‘tranquillised niceness’, as Bowerliesse put it; if anyone asks about your connection, then say you met Sh. Foulaani of Sokoto year ago when he was here in Europe’.

Meanwhile, Sallma had discovered Lona, sitting before a congealed breakfast and about to sling a handful of multicoloured state drugs into his mouth. ‘But look’, she exclaimed, pointing to the hillside dotted like daisies with the green and white heads of the Darqaawa making their way to the entrance of the minor kahf. ‘This is your answer, strip yourself and don the turban: forget and remember!’ He looked up and a faint smile of recognition crossed his face. ‘Yes, you may be right, but tell me what does this mean?’ He showed her a pocket-book full of jumbled scribblings, notes and sketches on which was written, ‘The will of Allah with respect to His creation is what they themselves do and want’. Ah, responded Sallma, ‘You’ve got it, but wait until tonight and you’ll get it, behind seven closed doors: if I were to break adab and tell you I would suffer painful restraints.’ ‘O, but an indication, my dear, I implore of you!’ ‘Well may it suffice you that everything is clear and that the meanderings of the thinkers serve only to extenuate their little intellectual pleasures before the meeting with their Lord whom they seek unawares; and that this extenuation is by Him and from Him, istidraaj, as the scientists say.’ ‘Sallma, I beg of you, you are worse then they!’ In short, she continued ‘The exposition of the Book is all you need because it is Clarity itself, and you only need the words of intelektuals as a vocabulary to bring closer those who are close: their termini sankti are not for you but them – until they submit, and then they learn the new, ancient language; and if this is too much for you at the moment then turn back to the Iliad – after all it was not an epistemological thesis but pure song, a story, an epic, and then make the jump from there.’

Prof. Bowerliesse’s eyes scanned the dusky hillside and laying down his Boshile night vision binoculars ejaculated, ‘La hawla wa la quwwata illa billah, I believe we have a couple of visitors’; and ordering Hayy to go and check them out turned to Don Ahmad and resumed his proposed orchestration of the coming celebration. Hayy had always been astonished at Prof. Bowerliesse acumen in matters of firasa but this, through binoculars, in the gloom, was further proof of his military prowess; their body language no doubt – for Sümer Alewi and Muljam Sabbah, the latter hardly noticing the approach of Hayy, made a curious couple: now, close up, he recognised their existential imbalance which had been apparent to P.B at a distance. Sümer’s extensive training however had alerted him that this was no célébrations folkloriques’ customer, nor a blind devotee from the gristianised muslim sects of the sub-continent or one of the structuralised gnomes of the northern african litoral, Arabia and Sham, this was a man.

‘And what were they up to, consigliere?’ Prof. B. adressed Hayy. ‘Nihilism, and rather too crudely obvious. I had them severely roughed up, whipped and thrown out – after trying to make it clear to them that the time for the minor yihaad has come to an end in this I.T. age, since King Offa, Reis Yusuf the pirate, Muhammad Johann v. G., Rilke Silke, the Younger One, plus Martin Heathacre have understood whom he is, on whom be peace, or at least actively affirmed the oneness of Existence’. ‘You’ve become both temperate and eloquent, Hayy; perhaps for the good’, reflected Bowerliesse, ‘I hope you at least used the jelly to blast some new latrines. And did they enquire after the major?’ No, it was Count Chia of course who had put them up to it, and when I informed them, erroneously on my part, that CC had called off the job Muljam Sabbah meekly disrobed the jelly and Sümer Alewi claimed diplo-immunity.!!

‘I do so adore her violet eyes, her frizzy hair and olive skin’. ‘Well marry her’, said the Graf to the hesitant Mouney, ‘for her beauty, as he said, on whom be peace and blessings – as for her lineage or wealth, there’s little there, to be sure, but are acquirable, and as for her deen, the dear, dotty islamica needs your tempering, nurturing spirit’. ‘Well, now, perhaps an augury: she herself’, and indeed mademoiselle Dulcet Briest hoved lithely to in the company of Signora Donyasgombro. This was it, a sign, together with the friendly shove of the Graf: he would accost her gently after the dhikr and ask her.

‘This is where we enter the Shaykh’s time’, she said as she stepped into the minor cave. ‘What do you mean Sallma?’ asked Dulcet. ‘I mean moussem time, that baraka which infuses the hearts of all those present enabling them to see that all their encounters, meetings, speech, hearings and sightings were meant to be; true, it can happen any time, but at the muwaasim it always does; there are still places in the Maghreb, in Kano and Sokoto or in Nusantara – in villages and smaller towns – where this is still a daily reality by the actions and taqwa of the inhabitants or the awliya entombed around; its a taste of Madina.’

Dulcet gave a brash wave to Don Ahmed who was standing beneath an iridescent stalactite and turning the score of Kampff’s new work, Ode to Life, commissioned by the Shaykh for the opening of Les célébrations folkloriques in the major cave; while Kampff himself rehearsed it on the white Steinbock – ‘Hayy brought him here bouleversed by Malounaturk’s brusque treatment of him in Ankara and he submitted with Prof. Bowerliesse while listening to Ludvig v.’s Tempest sonata ‘ commented Sallma. The gentle tinkling of the cave’s rivulet suddenly increased to a splashing, a dashing of the pebbles and rocks. ‘The rains have commenced outside’, remarked Sallma. Spotting the Shaykh seated on purple cushions at an ethereal stalagmite they signalled their recognition with a heart-clasp. He was flanked by two of the King’s personal guards. Before him lay open a large rosewoord chest of fresh Suðuroy gold which he instructed Hayy to have minted. Then suddenly gathering his rich orange-maroon camel-hair cloak he rose and beckoned to a man awaiting his turn to greet him to accompany him in the dhuha salat. ‘It’s Muljam Sabbah, gasped Dulcet’, ‘Yes’ explained Sallma, a day or too without the cowboy’s friend, the oxygen of the Appenines and Mouney’s company have transformed him; and Mouney declared that he might well become his mawla if he can make the jump’.

Cries of Allahu akbar as the Shaykh grasped Muljam’s hand and had him repeat la ilaaha illallah muhammadar rasoulallah three times. After asking him if he would like a new name he declared, ‘Abdallah!’ Count Chia, admitted to the moussem at Prof. Bowerliesse’s insistance that ‘enemies at one’s side are weaker than on the horizon’, scowled – all his life he had strived to have the way of the Mahdyists accepted on a par with the ‘Alim of Madina, even coopting an extremely competent media Shaykh from the desert to his cause and then promoting him to stardom; ‘but to no avail amongst these people’, he said to himself – he was still irked by something one of his spies had relayed to him from a conversation of the inner circle – that the Chia, historically or academically speaking, may be considered part of Islam, but only in the sense that a rotten apple which falls to the ground before the others on the tree ripen is still an apple. ‘However, I’ll try that man’ he thought, as he caught sight of Lona Mufakkir who, sitting alone, was reading a copy of ‘Reason and Intellect: foundations of the State of Islam’, the latest hit-work from the literary stable of BookZentro1 [Dept. of ‘Aql Studies]. He opened with ‘The perfect murder is a killing by Allah despite Frau Agkristy’s assertion to the contrary’. Lona stared at him without comprehending. ‘The Hashasheen’, he continued…

XII

Mouney had progressed: Dulcet Briest sat demure, rather awed at his request to accompany him to Montaggio de Ranuncola above the minor cave. ”Would you like some Thymian?’, he asked her, reaching for a slender, silver hip-flask which his man had filled with the honeyed brew that morning. ‘My, my!’ he gasped suddenly as he spied Shaykh Tiddly Pom, regaled in a lofty turban greeting his accolytes at the entrance to the cave below. ‘The higher the headpiece the lower the fall nowadays’, he remarked. ‘Que?’, reponded Dulcet nervously, whose trip to Granada last autumn had not been without linguistic baraka. ‘O nothing of importance, I’d rather speak to you of what I had in mind; will you?’ ‘Yes, of course, what kept you so long?’ ‘O your family, I suppose, they have an aversion to artistes’. ‘So that is how you would classify yourself?’ ‘Well in the sense of a Lebenskünstler, at least I would in these barren times when a man has to maintain the sublime at all times without support of the larger society.’ ‘Then I shall be a Lebenskünstlerin – and seal it with the sublimest.’ At this she grinned, cast off her demureness, exclaimed bismillah and drew him down into the buttercups. ‘Dulcet you surprise me most sweetly – but admittedly I had always suspected a veneer of legal primness. May I suggest then we seal it with yet sublimer: there’s a brook beneath that outcrop – shall we kiss the earth together?

XII

‘Sicily has fallen, next stop Rome’ remarked Hayy to Bowerliesse who entering the cave with a nod to the King’s Somali chamberlain, responded, ‘O Mr Palletbox, do you mean, that chap who claims descendancy from Friedrich II – well bully for him, if he thinks it efficace? Well, go on, tell me what the headlines are – but just from the Corriere del Vaticano’ if you please, they’re the only rag who have the faintest notion of the players – at least – since their Signor Banchiere hung over the Tiber. ‘Your right, of course, of no importance – but La Stampa della Grondaia had some inside stuff on the Moussem’. ‘Ah ha, another leak, Chia do you think?’ enquired Bowerliesse, mildly interested. ‘I’ll get on to it pronto – somehow they knew Les célébrations folkloriques were a smoke screen for the coming together of the fuqara, but more seriously they commented that the King’s envoy to the Shaykh spoke perfect English, yes, perfect English.’ With that Hayy slipped off, feeling he had lost the melody – which he knew to be dhikrullah but which existentially he had to recover through his daily moment alone with Allah, usual in the dark of the night, fast approaching he noticed, in the very elongated cypress shadows.

XIII

‘Shall we tell them now’, said Mouney to Hayy, now refreshed, when the latter joined him in the shade of the cypress of the sinkhole. ‘Que?’ ”Why, that the Shaykh is a hologram, long since dead or gone incognito’. ‘Do you think they’d believe you? they’re too comfy in the congealed past’. ‘Some might, not an inconsiderable number are way along the Path and many are those who’ve managed to peel off the first few outer onion skins of their being, lets tell those who can still delight in the moment and still weep tears of blood; after all, slavery was never abrogated, being une condition humaine, manchmal begehrt von den Sklaven selbst, but – and here’s the rub: his goal was to free people, may the peace and blessings of Allah be upon him.’ ‘What we need for them, said Mouney, is a commentary on his past life to assist them in catching up with him; what if his likeness is propped up like a dead dictator in his palace? – dead or alive he’s alive or dead; some did not understand that those repulsed by him, had got it, were set free, to do as they had been done by, to fulfil his teaching; or, with a “there’s nothing more to be said” he had set them on the path to action without him; or, with a “git orf the back of my faqir” he taught them there’s a time for ruhani beauty and another for the earth-bound logistics for his corporeal form’s sake.’

Part 2

Señor Leonfeliz Mouney felt somewhat restricted when invited to the ninth summit of ‘Schauspieler im Rampenlicht’ to be held in Hamelin and hosted this year by Allinflux Pictures in association with Sharpman’s TV of the Isles – regarding both his attire and the subject of his lecture – but then he found a tuxedo at a pawn shop, and as for shoes, his Lobbs were still shiny – with wear; as for the lecture, he had been asked by Prof. Bowerliesse to speak about ‘Aqeeda’, and given the worldly brilliance of the venue he thought he might illustrate it by … ‘Listen Dulcet’ he said, who approached him with le thé japonais, ‘Help me in this’. Dulcet had matured quickly since the post-moussem marriage and quickened to attention. ‘Aqeeda is the knot binding you to Allah and his Messenger, n’est-ce pas? and the principle part of aqeeda is possession of iman in your heart, permitting you to trust that all He ta’ala has declared is true – and so then enabling you to declare it yourself to others in actions: so might we say that iman is the very stuff the knot is composed of?’ ‘Look’, responded Dulcet, ‘Tis all well and good – but far better are cogent illustrations – most folk do not have the time to think – rather they see in images.’ ‘For example?’, enquired Mouney. ‘Describe in the most full-blooded terms’, she went on, ‘the luscious sensuality of the inner part of that most sublime of creations, the fig, tell them that sexual passion is part of iman and so part of aqeeda – many of the vip glitterati invitees are hung-up linguistically and have spent far too long in the cathedral corridors of puritanism; and then conclude – for who would want you to be accused of low-level desires? – with the Qur’an’s elevation of the fig to the rank of a divine oath or with his, on whom be peace, words, “I was made to love three things of your world, women, perfume, and the freshness of the eyes in the salat.’ ‘Go on’, said Mouney, shifting his seat with interest to better hold the cooling thé, and warming to a subject which could transmit – better than his new garb – the new vitality he felt, indeed the new consciousness of how things are, since he had married; ‘O Allah keep me in change’, he murmured, for the hundredth time that day. ‘Well, she continued consider his words, on whom be peace and blessings:

وفي بُضْعِ أحدِكم صدقةٌ ! قالوا : يا رسولَ اللهِ ! أيأتي أحدُنا

شهوتَه ويكونُ له فيها أجرٌ ؟

This is just as much aqeeda as is knowledge of the Unseen: it explains the halal and haram in earthy terms, although the aqeeda is heavenly: look, its clear the Rasoul, on whom be peace and blessings, fully embodied his words indicating that modesty was part of iman, but he was no puritan as the head-based Musselmans claim, many of whom are already in the conference room – if the act needed to be explained he was explicit, almost medical, when talking to some of the Companions, figurative, while indicative, when talking to others. ‘Que? interrupted Mouney’; I mean, she continued, ‘He might be said to allude when talking to someone without modesty and to be explicit when talking to someone with modesty’: take the word bud’ for example – the full blooded word for the act in his words, on whom be peace, above, or waqa’, literally to fall down upon; don’t forget the time his glance, on whom be peace and blessings, fell upon a woman, upon which he left his Companions and hurried home to one of his wives Zainab whom he found tanning leather; as soon as he had “dealt with his need” he returned to His Companions and advised them to do the same whenever the sight of a woman other than their wives entered their hearts’. ‘Do you think they’ll stomach it? there’s lots of the submitted in the audience’. ‘Why surely’, she continued’, ‘it’s the life-force itself, pure and unadulterated – look what happened to the xians when they repressed it, endless aberrations and a bloodless church, instead of the energy of ‘Isa’. ‘But he no marry’, queried Mouney. ‘True’ said Dulcet, that was not written for him, but he certainly urged others to marriage, and then of course came Abu’l-Qasim, on whom be peace, who had nine woman, to correct their previous misunderstanding.’ ‘Yes, yes, yes, asabtee, you are quite right’, Mouney countered, roused to understanding, ‘I remember now those detailed and explicit words in Rumi’s Mathnaawi which the puritanical don refused to translate – regarding the father’s advice of interrupted coitus, and the robust reply of the daughter who said:

‘How could I resist when man and woman are as combustible as fire and cotton-wool?’ When has cotton wool ever been able to resist flaring up on contact with fire, when has there ever been any cautious holding back on the part of fire?’

The father said, ‘I told you to avoid going to the man and prevent yourself from receiving his sperm: at the moment of rapture, ejaculation and delight, you should have withdrawn from him.’

She said, ‘How am I to know when he ejaculates – this is necessarily hidden and quite concealed from me?’

He said, ‘When the whites of his eyes roll – then know that this is the time of ejaculation’.

She said, ‘When the whites of his eyes roll then both my eyes too become blind’.

A distinctive knock at their hotel room interrupted their discussion: it was Hayy, fresh from Suðuroy, looking most bronzed and invigorated with Atlantic air. Carefully removing his huge, soggy Shetland peacoat and hanging it on the radiator he sat down with a ‘I’ve just popped in to warn you that Count Chia and his sidekick Faith are in the audience – but don’t worry Graf Bleckdschaan has landed in a small airfield nearby, Chia’s always overawed by his knowledge of Burke’s. Ah, one moment!’ and he got up to open wide his Shetland’s inner pocket, ‘a gift from the clear waters’, handing over a glistening, wild salmon to Mouney, at which Dulcet rose saying, ‘I’ll take it to the kitchens, no time like the freshest’, ‘and this for you, also fresh, from the mine’, he then added, giving a nugget the size of his palm to Mouney.

‘Yes, the spring is sprung’, as the words came tumbling from him spontaneously, written from before endless time: the nugget had been the catalyst. ‘Aqida is like this nugget, as real, as valuable and as hard of access, at least for those who cover up the truth’ he began, and the audience became visibly one body at the sight of the royal metal; ‘or, like women, land and pure-blood horses – as I shall explain’. He noticed Graf Bleckdschaan sitting beaming to the right at his holding up the shining fistful – his carosserie was yellow, he remembered, both the colour of the sun and the hidden sun of the earth; as was the semi-veiled blonde beside him; for sure there was a connection. Donyasgombro was also present, some seats away, next to the Italian minister for cultura on one side, Don Ahmad and Sakeena on the other.

Reluctantly Mouney assented to questions: those who had not understood, or did not want to listen, were the five or six who quickly rose as he sat down, exhausted, only able to field them from his seat. ‘Why’ said a mystified youth in jeans ‘didn’t you once mention demokracy ? If aqida, as you argue, is not religion, rather a vital link of the heart to action from Allah, as you call god, then surely its realm is the manifest world and so connects to authority governance, and the law? ‘A fitting response’, responded Mouney, ‘and here we enter the realm of semantics and epistemology: There are at present over a hundred different demokracies, these in our neck of the woods however say that those over there are not real demokracies; those over there say we’re not the goods; further, 16 demokracies are at present engaged in wars, skirmishes or raids against each other; thus the demokratic aqida, if I might employ this word in its root form, namely that which binds a person or country to a mode of behaviour, varies so dramatically as to warrant one asking why these conflicts: the answer as I have indicated in my talk is that, despite its claim to sekularity, it is religious in tone, its Unseen being the unattainable Ideal; let me reiterate: our aqida is pure gold rather than human fantasy, comparable to real women rather than pornography, real land rather than mortgaged possession; the anaemic substitute for it is “faith” or “belief”, carefully defined terms to paralyze, effectively removing the second shahada, which is Madina; the Haqq is after all the Real as well as the Truth, and He is the Dhaahir – what the covered ones call “reality”, and “had He meant anything else He would have said so”.’

III

Mouney glanced through the right window at Etna below, streaks of white still lay beneath the cloud-fleeced summit; the talk had awoken a minor mafioso who as an afficionado of the gattopardo well comprehended the theme he had touched upon, namely naked vigour clothed in the finest, and he had accepted his invitation to see his lemon blossom; and he would seize to moment to bathe in the volcanic springs – the bathroom of Allah as Sallma would say. ‘I used to be a werbungsfresser’, interjected the youth next to him, interrupting his gaze’. Slightly irritated M. sized up the tn-sneekers of his co-sitter next to him, nicely surprised he was footed with leather, and retorted politely, ‘Ich kann Deutsch, aber so viel nicht’; he of the leather boots held out a cutting edgely designed tub of yoghurt adorned with luscious fruits, adding ‘lassen Sie mich erklären. Today folks prefer paper or numbers flous to gold, porno to female flesh, mortgages instead of land, metal boxes on wheels instead of horses, and pictures on packaged food in distributionoutlets rather than the real thing: they can no longer taste non-fast food, so vivid, so hallucinatingly delicious the artist’s version of the stuff – visual remembrance dominates taste-bud experience’. Mouney savouring this rare awareness and surprizing but not shocking forwardness, realized instinctively that he might be the companion he had been looking for since Hayy had become so successfully busy, in the sense he holds to, namely ‘Prolonged exertion is Allah’s delaying success for you when you come to know Him by the contrariness of your encounters’ – ‘Where might I find you – in Catania?’, he enquired with equal directness. ‘I’m researching, one of my ur-ancestors, Frederick II’ – so wherever this takes me, but based in Castello di Donnafugata.

Two days of storms, hail and the Urblick of seemingly omenic black snakes, drawn out by the rain, accompanied them as they closed in on each other’s company exploring Etna’s surrounds; then onward at last southwards.

Over coffee the following mornings in the hotel garden filled with oleanders and olives near the Castello, Mouney managed to raise, by the idhn of Allah, the young man to the rank of Muslim, assured him of the illustrious nature of family and its indubitable subtle genetic influence on him, but persuaded him to forego his infatuation with his kafir forefathers and suggested rather they visit nearby Syracuse where the Commander and Qadi – a combination moreover which had baffled many an orientalist, both in his case and that of Ibn Juzayy al-Kalbi at the Batalla del Salado, to name but a few – Asad al-Furat, the student of Malik bin Anas, had led the forces of Ifriqiyya into Sicily. This, Ahmadeus – the name he had accepted of Mouney – agreed to.

The more he got to know Ahmadeus the more he realized that he was a summation of himself: he had called him up, evoked him, he was a self-reflection; no longer was mankind a mass of individuals but a single nafs which shimmered in change according to his consciousness of the other; even the divisions of kufr and iman elided and dar al-Islam alternated – as fast as the alternation of the seasons, or even daily weather – with dar al-harb; but not with respect to their fixed frontiers, for these had clearly disappeared in what the Arabs have coined the ‘awlama; rather the murabits were localised anywhere: Ernst, or was it Martin?, had been right – the more global the picture the more local the reality. This was tawfiq, crudely interpreted as ‘success’ in the official state-sanctioned dictionaries, but rather, he pondered, in truth, the phases in life when what He wants corresponds to what you want: Mouney had endlessly asked Him, exalted be He, for tawfiq, and here it was – the people, figures and forms of creation remained, but had paled with the mounting suffusion of meanings, and as meanings they could be read as clearly as a book. He realised that all is to be found in its opposites: that the archlysecular frogland was shouting its madhhab unheard in the face of the tornadoes of the deen: it had all but been thrown out of Afrika by the desert poor who appeared in their thousands in every adobe House of Allah, malgré les nombreuses générations de propagande scolaire rationaliste; had lost the battle of francophony, k.o’d by the o.k. of simplified English and jap memes; and had been forced academically into accepting the truth of the bloody, irrational terror inflicted on the innocent during la révolution by the precursors of today’s mob; moreover, as Makron fails to notice, all modern wars, i.e. those with more than a million casualties, have their basis in a deen of some sort or another: even the nasties never renounced their xistianity, and as those who are rootin for putin point out, nor have the Muscovites.

However, a passion set in, a destructive whirlwind fed by a quick, superficial reading of the Noble Book and a cursory study of the life of the Rasoul, peace and blessings be upon him; it blew towards the multiple points of the earth where the kuffar were tyrannizing the Muslims and Mouney was hard put to prevent his ward from flying off pistol in hand to the zone of conflict; he engaged the help of Dulcet, Hayy and a learned faqih from the wastes of Oujda: the first to camomile him with sweet cake, the second to keep him fit and the third to gently instruct him that 200 could overcome a thousand but not ten thousand, that suicide was the domain of Count Chia and that all had to be openly declared and led by an Amir; Ahmadeus responded, but slowly, a residual resentment welling beneath him from enforced DemioHumano education, but he came round within five moons and his physiognomy changed – so he gifted him Jenseits von and put Don Ahmad in charge of his heart.

Part 3

Hayy watched from the headland as he rolled up his wet sleeping bag, calling Ahmadeus to look eastwards: there some two miles distant between the racing white horses, beneath the blood of a rising sun, a massive maelstrom was forming. ‘Damp the fire and saddle the horses, there’s work to be done – take the coffee with you’. Ahmadeus carefully funnelled the brew into a slim, steel container, scattered the embers and briefly put on their nose-bags. ‘A wali has died and the fuqara are in turmoil, filled with bewilderment and grief at his demise but actively seeking after his successor’; ‘and might there be more than one?’ asked Ahmadeus; ‘The cream has risen’, said Hayy, ‘only tasting remains’.

Mouney handed Hayy a sniper rifle and a Glock 17 to Ahmadeus; Dulcet winced, ‘The changes are to be so violent?’, she asked. ‘If you have handed over your affairs to Him, then in the wali’s case, the world is reshuffled radically by the Manager, ta’ala: we can only get a glimpse of the reshuffle by comparing it to our management of affairs – the more we hand over, the greater is manifest His hand in our affairs, alors comment c’est après la mort d’un de Ses amis?’ répondit Mouney, ‘The choice on His part of person, time and place with respect to a substitute may well necessitate upheavals, deaths and discord to move the right man into place accompanied by the right understanding of those in his company, in short we are obliged to silence him for good – a matter of betrayal, and a returning of favour to the Mountain King; a touch of agression assures the return of the natural balance’.

Dulcet, tossing her golden hair against the morning breeze, handed Ahmadeus a green canvas and leather shoulder bag of provision, adding, ‘with a small hultafors trekking axe, a buck-nobleman and a phial of zerozero cambodian oud – oh, and two tickets for Tinariwen’s interpretation of Bachs’ Passion, wali Johannes I believe, – with Ali Touré as guest guitarist – to be held in Kidal, in the presence of the Mountain King; and Sallma sends her greetings for your safety – she hinted it was Count Chia and his supposed direct contact with the 18th imam that you had in your sights, but added “Perhaps the hashasheen themselves, best leave the Napoleon of crime alive to entice the mice.”‘

The horses made good time, Mouney on an Andalusian and Ahmadeus on a smaller Appaloosa, but when they reached the outer reaches of dusty, sandy Kidal the first of the autumn rains broke, torrents forming, interlacing into a wide wadi which soon became an impassable foaming deafening monster preventing any access to the city that day. They set up camp on a small mesa overlooking the seething stream as it rose dangerously close to them and recited surat al-ikhlas before a fire of thorn-bush branches – and as-Samad became clear, the Everlasting Sustainer of all, the Mesa to which all creatures have recourse.

Falling asleep to the roaring around them they awoke the following morning to find the wadi-water a mere trickle. Ahmadeus collected more brushwood and lit a fire to roast the baby gazelle they had shot from the mesa and make tea in their rakwa. Before moving off they disposed of their connectors in the sand. At the gates, they were approached by an Amajagh in indigo robes and black veil who demanded a small tribute in gold and offered to take them to Jibril ibn Umar, the Sultan of Kigal. Mouney handed him a newly minted dinar of Suðuroy gold, from the latest consignment of Hayy’s, and instructed him rather to take them to the best hamam in town.

The Sultan was hosting the exiled Mountain King. After the ghusl and a few shots of concentrated green tea, the Amajagh waiting patiently at the door of the hamam, raised his eyebrows in expectation of further instructions: ‘First to the zawiya of your Shaykh’, said Mouney. Somewhat surprised at their knowing of his Shaykh, he nodded in assent and beckoned them to follow.

All were assembled in the mighty adobe hall which formed the main part of the zawiyya, Prof. Bowerliesse Dr Achmed ben Al-Rachmaanov, Hayy, Sallma and Dulcet – whom Mouney embraced, over enthusiastically according to some, seven weeks having elapsed since their separation; the various arms dealers were there too, each with their wares, both hard core and digital, stacked in huge warehouses of reed matting, overseen by Hayy, the King’s Somali chamberlain and a horde of coffee-coloured bedouin, from – by the look of their faces – Dafur. Compte Chia de la Reasonne, having sworn allegiance to Prof. Bowerliesse and the Imam of Madina – somewhat under duress it was thought, was looking healthier, as was Lona Mufakkir by his side, who was clearly cured of his malaise, now that he was in the best of company; Don Ahmad and Sakeena were not not be seen, so Ahmadeus, taking leave of Señor Mouney, went out to the well in the acacia grove – one of five heavily guarded sites in the vicinity – where they had last been seen. He passed by various groups of other traders each with heaps of best quality Moga-qat, Ketama weed and basins of zero-zero, tolerated as long as they had no chemical wares or refined stuff. About a dozen donkeys, each with a rider, clothed in steel web meshing and armed with tasers, bore the weight of gold and silver in their leathern side bags, some even with sacks of newly minted paper – for those that accepted it.

III

A wind arose, and rain began to fall lightly. Cries of joy came from many as they raised their turbans and danced in ecstasy in the cooling wetness of maghrib. The Shaykh appeared, Shaykh Abdallah bin Daqqa of Lalla Khadija in the Tellian Atlas, escorted by an imam from Mopti who signed to the muadhdhin. The strident call brought the far-off cow herders, the shepherds and camel drivers quickly to the vast mosque, delightfully, refreshingly quite different from the stripey or laser-lined carpeted, stained glassed airport-like, p.a. systemized, deminaretted ‘prayer rooms’ of the islamic ghettos, – a musalla, open to the sky, whose mihrab was marked out with huge, round, white stones, beside the acacia grove. Martial lines formed spontaneously and Shaykh Daqqa motioned to the imam to request of the Mountain King that he lead the salat. The King in his turn beckoned to a tall, corpulent Uzbek, requesting he recite in Warsh.

The Conference arena was a huge natural hollow between the two mountains, a parasang apart, dominating Kigal to the west; thence convoys of jeeps took the main body of organisers, followed by a seventy strong security team of local bedu on their camels from the zawiyya; the participants were told to be at the Dugukolo Jukorola for the fajr salat, in front of the entrance to the Kuluwo cave, marked by signs in Bambara, Tamazight and Arabic: Jaasousallah, the King’s chamberlain, would be busy all day vetting them – he had strict orders to send all university academics trained in critical analysis back home, and to seek out a speaker for the day versed in the Tamahaq and Tamascheq of the Tuaregs and conversant with the brutal attempts at their eradication and replacement with MST – modernstandardtamazight, a concoction of the linguists employed by the oil, cobalt, terbium and uranium concerns in East Turkestan, and codified to link in seamlessly with computer-Mandarin.

Wara, the head Bedu, signalled to the rest of the body to come to the huge platter of couscous, surmounted by a whole lamb, prepared for them by the Dugukolo nomads, surmounted by a whole lamb; Amadeus was among the party, sent by Mouney to extend his horizon, ‘uncover the meanings from the sensory!’ – and this indeed began speedily when Wara growled at him to retreat from the meal when he ignorantly extended his hand beyond his pale to seek out a particularly tempting piece of shoulder.

‘We have to be sure an impressive arsenal here’, began Shaykh Daqqa to the great assembly of learned men – indicating the groups of armed men with their nuclear rocket launchers, silhouetted high above them against the mountain back-drop, but there is a yet more effective weapon available to all of us, as Prof. Bowerliesse shall explain. He has spent his life forging a new language for the Europeans, enabling them to function effectively in the dominant post-human society, and I would now like to ask him to demonstrate how this new language can be adapted to the linguistic modes we are more familiar with, namely the Bambara, Tamazight, Fula, Hausa, Osmanlija and Arabic.

‘I would like first to declare clearly that we are here to learn from you and to thank you for hosting us’, began Prof. Bowerliesse; ‘and secondly to introduce two men to you, v who has established wide ranging trade routes between the desert and mountain territories, little affected by the connectors, and also established a lingua franca of pre-European Civil War English written in Arabic script, as yet not undermined by A1 interference; and Dr Achmed ben Al-Rachmaanov who has been so active in rendering the laws of muamalat accessible to the network of traders cooperating in Hayy’s caravans.’ Die Rede und das Gerede is on the table, language expressed with meaning as opposed to the whispering, gossiping, jawing, yapping, gabbing prattle of predigested words fed to the audience of the a.i. jahiliyya. In short ‘sincerity’, ‘the man standing by his words’ as the Confucians recognize. I urge you to Tamazigt, it has not yet been customised, tailored to fit a.i. Be careful’, he suddenly ejaculated, pointing to a turbanned, wizened shakyh from Chad who had tripped on a cable; charcoal, grey and maroon figures hastened to help him; the Europeans sat, mumm in their heads, constricted of limb. Noticing this, Prof, Bowerliesse, descended the wooden platform and motioned to two of the stewards. In ten minutes the arena was cleared of chairs and the audience were shepherded together by the Prof himself until they became a single mass, grounded on the sand, their knees touching. ‘Al-uns, intimacy, he declared, you the Saharans must teach it to our northern brethren.’

After a long silence, eyes turned to the empty platform, Shaykh Daqqa appeared and remaining before the massed audience, asked for the platform to be dismantled and declared, ‘Prof. Bowerliesse has asked me to continue. He merely uttered the word ‘deen’ as an indication, and disappeared’ Seating himself on the sand he said, ‘I would ask Dr Achmed to assist me in this’ – at which the lawyer rose from the audience, and joined him, his eagle, mughul eyes glittering. ‘Please allow me to cite a short children’s poem’, said the Dr., ‘albeit in German; we hosted a grandson of Renate van den Elzen, a solitary, nervous, lean, miskeen missionary, – an ornithologist who had discovered a tiny subspecies of the Kuli Koro Amarant in this district, a particularly social finch which only sings at dawn – for two summers who claimed to be completing a dictionary of the local Tamazigt language: on translating it he suddenly collapsed, informed his handlers of this, married the girl who had chanted it to him – and a further three, sired nineteen children and returned to full health; here is the poem, known to many of you as aw ye dɔnkili lamɛ kɔnɔw savana:

Hört vor allem zuerst den Singvögeln der Savannen zu, die den Schöpfer, gepriesen sei Er, preisen, ein Lied der Verzückung an Allah, den Einen, und senkt dann eure Stirn in den Sand, wie es die Barmherzigkeit der Welten, Muhammad, getan hat, Friede und Segen sei auf ihm, im Morgengrauen, am Mittag, am Nachmittag, nach Sonnenuntergang und dem Verblassen des Abendrots, und bezeuge ohne nachzudenken, dass alle Ihm versklavt sind, der Mann und die Frau, freiwillig oder unfreiwillig. Der Deen ist Naseeha: Worte der Weisheit, Taten der Weisheit, die Armen zu speisen, den Reisenden willkommen zu heißen, der Djanaza zu folgen, Sein Haus und sein Grab in der erleuchteten Stadt zu besuchen, das Gold und Silber der Zakat zu bezahlen, Großfamilien mit mehreren Müttern, Rückzug von der Überflutung der Sinne im Monat des Fastens, dem Festhalten am Imam von Dar al-Hijra, der Taqwa des Herzens, der Befreiung von Sklaven, der Ba‘ya dem Amir und in jedem Moment – Suhba, Gesellschaft, mit den Salihun und Liebenden zu pflegen, physisch und im Herzen.’

My business is the law, but I cannot today address the matter, ‘Wer Menschheit sagt, will betrügen’, – rather I speak only in the light of this girl’s traditional song: in other words it is life itself, at every moment subject to the fitra of the Lord of the Worlds, impregnated, as was the Khalil, with the colour of joy: without priests, religiosity or state structure; if you are still trapped in the official language of the administration you shall be incapable of comprehending what follows: remember the Quran was revealed in the most vibrant language of the time to a people who still spoke to each other in the manner of the ποιέω, the poiesis of the Greeks, whose word was on a par with action, whose word was the essence of the man or woman who uttered it; I can only recommend you keep company with the Kuli Koro Amarant until you break or are torn apart by the Tiger-Rex among us. Suffice it to say, that the ahkaam, the laws, is derived from the root meaning wisdom or to judge, a hakeem is a wise man, a healer, a haakim, is a ruler, these laws are stable and have no need to be amended year after year as is the case for humanistic laws. By the devilishly priestly introduction of the word alms for zakat al-mal those who cover up have reduced the majestic pillar to a paltry wooden box attached to mosque walls in christian charity or to electronic impulses; as for zakat al-fitr, food itself has also been transmogrified into these electronic impulses: charity organisations have replaced the Amir and the financial institutions, as they coyly say, have replaced the saa’i. The time for talking is past: listen to the Rasoul, salla allahu alayhi was sallam, ‘لا تُكْثِرُوا الكَلامَ بغَيْرِ ذِكْرِ اللَّهِ، فَإنَّ كَثْرَة الكَلامِ بِغَيْرِ ذِكْرِ اللَّه تَعالَى قَسْوةٌ لِلْقَلْبِ، وإنَّ أبْعَدَ النَّاسِ مِنَ اللَّهِ القَلبُ القَاسي’ – do not speak a great deal without dhikrullah for a great deal of speech without dhikrullah exalted be He, is a hardening of the heart and the people the furthest from Allah are those with hard hearts.’ And that was it – a dark swarm suddenly appeared beyond the crest of Dugukolo Jukorola; they had been betrayed by one of their own, at least nominally their own, later to be revealed as a resentful Harvard prof., author of the ‘standard textbook’, The Language of Islam, understandingly fearful his priestly terminology would soon be rendered obsolete.

                      V
The swarm, led by a super-drone bearing the arms of Stafrika, undeterred by the nuclear rocket launchers now disabled with A-lectro lasers, released thousands of cluster bombs and sprayed castor bean extract over the audience. Shaykh Diwan succombed immediately to the poison as he drank his mint tea; 'Another lesson from al-Mateen, ta'ala - that we have made this too much of a celebration, "Holi days are hollow days, feast days for the General!"', cried Hayy as he pulled the lead singers, Don Ahmad and Ali Farka Touré, from the hadra. Amadeus, still in his patched muraqqa'a jeans lead them to the safety of the bunker and on reaching the four-wheel, activated the air-conditioner, and donned a cool blue tailor-made suit, plus crimson tie, beneath a white woollen jalaaba. Karajan's triple concerto accompanied them to Eckschein glacier where they were to meet Bowerliesse: a time for regroupment, dhikr and above all purification from filosofy, that mystic north caucasian rejection of predetermination and obsessive Besinnung von Angst. The Professor greeted them accompanied by the now newly named Byron-Amadeus, resplendent in the arms of the grüne Hemde, 'A toast of Edelweiss to the success of operation-lingua', he said, drawing a camel hair jalaaba over his knees, as flocons de neige melted on his aristo-Nase; a mere Bekanntmachung, to be sure, but the signs are good: AI has tentatively mentioned the threat to their present dictionary entries and classed it as a blip, i.e. high level reassessment required, with human input, but without university interference, which it now recognises as inwardly defunct.'

VI

Señor Mouney, Don Ahmad and Sakeeena, appeared on skis, followed by Donyasgombro, in flowing musk-ox furs steering a horse drawn sleigh, bearing a freshly shot mountain goat; Sallma helped her down and called to Graf Bleckdschaan's boys to clean and dress it ready for the barbecue. There's a colloquy tonight she told Donyasgombro, 'The Obligation to Swim and Relax in the Realm of Aqida'. 'Que?' 'Well, in simple Spanish it means: Allah, exaltado sea Él, y Su Mensajero y los Sheijs de Darwawiyya han trazado un mapa de la condición humana, han limpiado el cerebro de la necesidad de organización y lo han sustituido por iman, es decir, confiar en que todo está bien, libera al hombre y a la mujer de pensamiento extraño y estructurado y lo reemplaza con impulsos espontáneos, lo que a su vez engendra la novena sinfonía'. 
Shaykh Abdallah bin Daqqa sat robed in white before the crackling pine logs and following a bismillah, said, 'Do not imagine that the Shaykh of Shaykhs left us anything but an exhortation to knowledge and a call to action: I see many among you those who live only by the effervescence of his past presence - which is fine for he was the elixir, but the red sulphur is not to prolong personality but rather to refine us beyond our nafs, and that is only possible through our action, not his. Yesterday we saw a miskeen, barefooted or at least unsocked, in the bitter cold, not for lack of the wherewithal - kept warm and fed as he is by the officials of the Transdome, answerable to the DemioHumano - but rather through a desire to remain in touch with the energy of the elements - fine so far, you might say! - but in his solitary worship of the desires of his nafs, unaware of the circumstances surrounding him, to wit, the crowded, gaudy, navidad streets of the town in the valley below, thus disconnected from the mainstream flow of which he was, by his servitude to the DemioHumano, an integral part; we cannot help him as yet, but may Allah bring him into yet further fitna to relieve him in the fire of the social furnace of his dross'.'One seminal question peaked among his many: the matter of the seven Shuyouk who inherit from the Shakyh of Shaykhs. This was of course not for him, but nevertheless demands a response, the cursory one being that they are a Gesamtheit, a Gestalt which has not yet separated, and so may be adopted as a whole, geography permitting; the longer one, imperative, involves a focusing on a single one as they become differentiated.'

VII

The night was however cut short by shrieks from ex-vatican Swiss guards on the foremost peak: 'The Janjaweed are coming'; Shaykh Abdallah bin Daqqa beckoned quickly to Byron-Amadeus to escort him to roof-top hideout, motioning the others to accompany them; there he continued his ders, adapting it spontaneously to the new situation: 'They are the latest recruits of Compte Chia de la Reasonne who recognizing they have no discrimination, being without a madhhab and so submitted to their own doityourself deen resembling a religion of christian piety, its main tenets being an irrational, superficial worship of the Arab language - as a kind of twilight racial signature, with the corresponding demoting of all others, a distrust of leadership but a cerebral'faith' in committees with revolving imams, a veneration of 'progress' - in particular, the techno-type, an antipathy towards music [unless accompanied by pictures on the silver screened 'breaking-news' media networks, or on the goggle-box in general] an ample measure of trepidation in the presence of women, and a passive, unthinking acceptance of digital, plastic or paper lucre, found them a suitable means to infiltrate the sunna wa jamaa'a, themselves already half-paralysed by their popularist ressentiment poison. The antidote: Abu Hafs an-Nisabour's definition of futuwwa - "teaching through action", under the aegis of an 'alim who swallows up guests' nafs at breakfast,  like Shaykh 'Ulaysh von dem Yamm; or, listening to the music of early-bird songs, or Finlandia. 

VIII

The Janjaweed left with the melting snows, burnt up by the sun of the fuqara; order returned, or may one say the fana of the suhba, elevated company, dominated again: with the danger past, the Shaykh no longer needed to be the Amir and the Amir could be the Shaykh and the faqih was thereby enabled to swim in the delight of the law rendered meaningful - for he had learnt to relax by releasing the intellect from the shackles of reason. 'Take care of this man', he said motioning to Hayy bin Yaqdhan who had just arrived from Suðuroy, 'He's a little rough at the edges from his nomadic wanderings but good company; a cultured Bedouin you might say.'
The faqih went off with Hayy and introduced him to a bourgeois family from Winterthur who had plenty of ignorant adab, but little insight into the Reality: they went skating with them on the Eulach and then attended a wedding of the local qadi and a freshly submitted demoiselle from the Jura: from the afternoon garden festivities the bourgefam was rather shocked to hear passionate noises from the bridal suite. 'Understandable,' said the faqih', 'he's just lost of his four wives to the draconian administration in Bern who, while encouraging girl/boy-friends agogo, cannot stomach the legitimacy of multiple wedlock as it goofs their standardized, global inheritance app for which, when solicited for exceptional cases, they receive no overtime pay; and lets remember the bourgefam make up the greater part of the umma - still, listen to the Beeb who reported recently, after a new, islamist gov, had been installed by Turkiye and Washtown, in place of the dentist-butcher, that "shops are reopening and people are returning to work in Syria's capital city as day-to-day life gradually resumes ... a sense of euphoria as workers tell them they can "breathe easier now" - as le Compte de la Chia keeps reminding me, "a coded message between them, work being the worship and the workers, the enslaved"'. 
'I would go on to say that just as killers choose their state in the you s of a, depending on whether they would like to be holed up for life or receive the gentle dose, so the volk must choose a madhhab for when it comes to push and shove, and life is in the balance, then the Imam of their following may determine their outcome.'

IX

'Why' said Byron-Amadeus to Shaykh 'Ulaysh von dem Yamm, 'Is our love illicit?'
- because all expression of it has been relegated to lingua sterila except in the desert or artic wastes, the Shaykh replied, and love without a means to declare itself is looked upon as a furtive activity. Look at Hayy bin Yaqdhan - he has spent so much time on Suðuroy that he's recovered primal speech, there being little access to KI, people still talk to each other and books are still read and little censured - or you could say he knows how to call a spade a spade - so when he speaks of love it is a dimension which emerges from the sensory to the meanings beyond, and that is not good for business, I refer to trade without the mutual handshake of trust; I have mentioned before to you that were you to fill a warehouse with paper its zakat would only be payable on its worth as paper, the material, not calculated according to the various numbers printed in the Bundesdruckerei or l’Imprimerie de la Banque de France; moreover I have heard that both establishments intend to merge to produce cut-price ballot sheets for the compliant countries of Afrika, the organisational aspects of demokrassy having become so expensive - and of course lucrative. Hayy can still gaze there on pedigree snowdrops or moghul chulipz blazing unashamedly through the grass, preferring them to images - and this awakens his faculty of discernment; and there too he can still meet rijaal, men, still meet nisaa, women; there a woodtrek is still possible, the cadastre value of land being so low that laxity prevails in the local registry; there too Ibn Rushd's remark to the effect that 'the fewer ill-houses there are the healthier the population' holds good; Ramadan too is still embarked on by the sighting of the new crescent. But such candour with one self and others can be bouleversant - Look at what happened to Mouney when he spoke these truths. 
- and what did happen to him? enquired Byron-Amadeus?
- why they locked him up, shook him up, little realizing that only good could come of his expression of the truth.

                      X

 - the prison, he continued, was a kind of francophone west african version of a maison de correction: the external directorate adorned with froggified pseudo-legal idioms, while the inner sanctum reeked of local skulduggery and finance, in other words much saner and healthier inside than out.
But, he noted, the microsociety of fifty or so law-breakers with a gaudy variety of offences and misdeeds all contained within the grey walls of a hundred or so square meter slammer, with a three squat-toilet annex, serving as a facility too for the wealthier inmates' cook-ups, was alive and kicking - no dreamy, tik-tok passivity here to speak of; and needless to say, propinquity breads promiscuity, a power hierarchy of sorts - so clearly demonstrated in Foucault's study of detainment-punishment; but let me recall Señor Leonfeliz Mouney's own words:
'The criminal in the white jalaaba - cared for weekly by his aide de camp, Idriss, in  the annex, during a lull in tin-can paraffin cuisine - who occupied a central position next to one of the pillars, was a relentless five-a-dayer, standing facing Makka, impervious to the constant hubbub around him: as yet unaware of the significance of this and oblivious to this as one of His Signs manifest before me, I was nevertheless enthralled.'

Discombobulated and bamboozled

Discombobulated and bamboozled at the marks of change in the suburbs, he rode into his home town after several years in the outback and found he could hardly understand the inhabitants who each held a connector in their hands or reached for one from their back pockets in a manner not unsimilar to those with Tourette syndrome’. Said one of them, pausing his connector for a second, in response to the rider’s friendly greeting, ‘You look confused’, ‘No, he replied, I’m only discombobulated and bamboozled.’

Eyeless in Gaza

Samson’s blindness is nothing in comparison to its modern counterpart, as Huxley points out; no longer an eye for an eye but one for a thousand or more is the order of the day. First Sham and now Falestine: dare one venture that a matter of aqida is the root malaise of the fitna, or the hunger for dawla? From shekels to gold dinars, from coitus non-interruptus to fertile propinquity, were the wise man’s words.

اضغاث الاحلام or Joining the Dots

The martial wall of Muslims in the salat does not admit of carpet lines.

Bunched up dreams, linguistic forensics, res no verba and lyrico-spinto: in an age of supersecretcodes and passwords all is divulged to those who can crack them – and of course its a permanent open book to the battalion-stackers of secret-servers. At his time, on whom be peace and blessings, all was transparent to see and hear; only those whose hearts and hearing had been sealed up by Allah, whose eyes were blindfolded, were unable to perceive his transparency.

…for you can only really know another if your self has gone. If the boss extolls you as the best ’Ndrangheta hired-killer of the nafs from the outset he might mean it as a dua in the hope you become it.

I took him for a priest, I took him for a clown until the mask was lifted and the chips came tumbling down.

He of Austerlitz said ‘six for a man, seven for a woman and eight for a fool, but he, may Allah be pleased with him, of Meknes said yet less’.

Arabisch ist die ultrafein-femini-RespektSprache. Sie hat einen speziellen Modus für die weiblichen Adressaten: für die zweite Person Singular und Dual und für die dritte Person Singular, Dual und Plural.

Prison betrayal-system of plea-bargaining: ‘You shop your copain and we’ll reduce the sentence’.

Le fallus debout est proscrit du spectacle dans la kulture krétienne, ergo les cultures qui permettent son spectacle sont moins avancées: à part le géant de Cerne Abbas et quelques autres exceptions, peu d'ithophallique à voir - signe des temps ou pandémie chrétienne? 'The Sino-Tibeten n-[w]a:j, to love, to be gentle and the rubbing of thighs of man and wife is all of a muchness, as we must assume is the case in 愛 before its technocapatalism engendered the concomitant puritanism' said Cardinale Guccio to the surprised ears of Claudia Cardinale.

La tassa moderna è la complicata arte linguistica di spennare le persone più povere facendo loro pensare che sia legale.

His wisdom, may Allah grant him shifaa’, called the callow back from the minor to the major. ‘Do you mean the minor and major of music or that of the nafs and the sword?’ asked he of the many books. ‘O, both I should say, after listening to his Ring’.

He is the Dhaahir, the Outward, the Visible, so no meditative closing of the eyes for the Fatsangs among us.

As Shamsuddeen said:

I am a slave of the Quran as long as life is left in me

I am the dust beneath Muhammad, my Chosen One

If anyone were to transmit other than these words of mine

I would sever contact with him and what he says.

‘Yes’, he of intellectual broadness, of self-sufficiency, replied, ‘but for me all the various religions are valid and equal, all the gods one God’. ‘Then call on them one by one for your heart’s desire, and last of all to Allah – and then wait to see who answers your call; and, protect yourself from the covert enemies who slither through your thoughts unawares with Allahumma-k-fineehim bimaa shi’ta – O Allah, may You be enough for me from them by means of whatever You wish [to protect me with]’.

The sweet smell of success aint no punching of the air but a discrete smile.

Briests, briestesses, mongs or mongesses cannot be deemed religious even in terms of their own deen – on account of their threesome ‘aqida and their refusal to take wives or husbands: indeed it is disobedience and false zuhd.

Hans Fallada, born R. W. F. Ditzen; Muhammad bin Abdallah, real name: John Smith.

They don’t toast their morning bread in Arabia – yet: plenty of bakeries around at all time of morning, and for sure the hefty dose of preservative keeps the s’mkt stuff as fresh as could be imagined; but the toasters are coming, California style, and in return the deen might reign in Amerika.

The two bogey men and one bogey woman

Said he, ‘I’ve often heard of folks calling up the fuzz when they see someone driving with a mobile at their ear’.

Said she, ‘Quite normal, the Leviathon is everywhere. Bogeys in full blue-black dress, armed, accaparisoned with walkie talkies, visited us last week to frighten the children into submission.

‘And why was that?’, said he; answered she, ‘Our intercom was faulty and a good cit. women passing by in the street below overheard one of the girls berating her sister in a very loud voice and reported the incident to the bogeys who came in full force forthwith.’

Prior to korona the visa-ing authorities in KSA used to ask you for a certificate affirming your Islam if you wanted to visit His House – a thin protokoll to be sure; now they demand only if you are twice vaccinated – easier to burokratically prove than to delve into your heart, and certainly better for business.

Das römische Denken übernimmt die griechischen Wörter ohne die entsprechende gleichursprüngliche Erfahrung dessen, was sie sagen, ohne das arabische Wort. Die Bodenlosigkeit des abendländischen Denkens beginnt mit diesem Übersetzen.

(Lightly modified, with thanks to MH, from his Der Ursprung des Kunstwerkes, pp.13-14).

One of the names of Allah is as-Samad, the Everlasting Sustainer of all: Allah is endless in the Dhaahir, as is evident from the boundless, ever- expanding oceans of the galaxies, and endless in the akhira, as is evident from His description of the Garden.

He became like Don Quixote when he read Cervantes, like Lear when he heard Shakespeare and Tom Cruise when he watched Top Gun, selling his self to a shadow of himself, but then left them all for the Coming Man – for other people’s lives are other people’s lives, however much learning may be had from them, however uplifting their language, their art, their being.

The more profound the text the worse the IT translation – or let us say the greater its inaccessibility, its preciousness, so let’s keep it profound; and they have not yet enabled the robots to fathom that ‘lucre kan buy anything ‘cept luv’.

It occurred to him that a new language was imperative, needing more room to move in, English having been decimated and occupied by IT-speak; he thought of Fula as an alternative cos as yet ungoogled and cos Fula has also been used in the Arabic script by Uthman dan Fodio.

I’m all for the return of spittoons in this age of pollution – only way towards health, and still legal, I believe. Better to live in one’s house than camp in it.

Sang the robed gourmet in his wollen-carpeted hamam, ‘Go for it – in the name of science: divest yourself of all ‘cept the clothes you’re standing in and you’ll surely find the dunya envelops you with loving care.’ In-toxified with information and social intermediaries, he essayed the advice and did not find it wanting – for there began the grand swim.

Hommage à la Fitra - car sans le camp de base de la santé la ruh ne peut être libre de gravir les pentes:

La santé n'apparaît que par l'équilibre, l'équilibre n'est atteint qu'en assimilant les contraires, les contraires sont combinés dans la fitra et la fitra a été déterminée par Lui.

Annette von Droste-Hülshoff used to surf the radio in her Judenbuche long before the internet.

The headscarf rev. in Persia is just that: another indication that the deen is being reduced to a scrap of cloth, that everything will not change for it to remain the same, despite the rev. – with the caveat, bien entendu, that this is a mere illustrative example from the realm of chiism, ‘cos despite its being a different deen, there still remains certain similarities. little is spoken of the legal position: as a general rule the greater the social standing of the woman the greater her protection – hence the haram, a retreat of safety and tranquillity, free from the lustful gaze of the plebs; a slave is not required to veil herself.

Nach dem römischen Schriftsteller Plinius der Ältere wurde der Farbstoff der Heidelbeere in Gallien zum Färben der Kleider von Sklaven verwendet.

The greater the social standing of a woman, the greater her protection, the wider her veil – right up to the sanctum of the haram; as for slaves, they need wear no purdah, legally speaking.

Just as the heavy snowfall snaps the branches of the firs of Bahrein, so it breaks the habits of some townsfolk and brings joy to their tired routines; to others, only chaos.

The methodology of rationality and progress has of course ousted filial duty from the school system, and so parents or concerned persons within the deen, being no system, but rather a metamorphosing, living body, are confronted with ‘why should I do it’ , when requesting something of the young; a rational answer to the every and many questions is often arduous when on the wing; but I have often found it beneficial to ask myself whether it is rational to entrust children to men and women whom one has never met, whom one has no social connection to and who are often stressed slaves lured into a system not by educative desires but for lucre. Obedience issues from trust, and trust evolves from keeping company, and keeping company means physical presence of both or several parties. Even Musa had difficulty in being obedient to Khidr.

TimeWalla

Camdict: a TimeWalla is someone who goes to bed at 10 o’ the clock as per usual even though the state has decreed a time change that day; or, rises at nine as per usual in the morn even though just landed jet-lagged in Ors-strayliya: q.e.d. – numbers or clock hands are more powerful than body-clocks.

Masjidwalla

Oxdict: a Masjidwalla is someone who spends a great deal of his life in the mosque; the Rasoul has said, peace and blessings be on him, ‘There are seven whom Allah will shade in His shade on the Day when there is no shade except His shade: a just ruler; a young man who grows up in ‘ibaada of Allah, the Mighty and Majestic; a man whose heart is attached to the mosques; two men who love each other for Allah’s sake, meeting for this and parting on this; a man who is called by a woman of beauty and rank for super-marital sex but says: ‘I fear Allah’, a man who gives sadaqa and hides it, such that his left hand does not know what his right hand gives in sadaqa; and a man who makes so much dhikrullah in private that his eyes overflow with tears.

However while the heart of the true Masjidwalla is also in constant connection with the pulsating rhythm of the as-salawat al-khams his limbs are active in the world with others.

Said she of the spring to her Shaykh, ‘I don’t think I’ve arrived’, to which he replied, ‘But I think you have.’

Said Fr. Dr Eltigibeety of the Centre for advanced social studies to Prof. Islamabad, ‘There’s so much fucking around that soon everyone will be related and there’ll be no need for the hijab’; then retorted Prof. I, ‘We’ll find some other modernist atrappe for the media to focus on.’

Tales of the Tiger

In Tripoli, conferenced and duly fed up, he wanted an ice-cream, so he had the grandson of Bristol Gardens of Shaykh Fayturi – ‘No hand over yours’, the Sh. of khalwa and ism al-‘adham, after the suluk of Sh. Muh. ibn al-Habib, so no alternative after Makka to return to Madina in Root Islamic Education – queue for one, and got it late at night so unexpected by the many.

Many a time, at wits end, with the fuqara, the Tiger threatened to withdraw to his lair by the sea if they didn’t wake up; Archuletta von Adabezzef, may Allah reward him, was among those who persuaded him to persist, ‘Llena tus odres de agua y asegúrate de que no se filtren’, resumed the Hakim, ‘Ya no es una olla rota’.

We hold to the lunar year, fluid, tidal, feminine, while they hold to the solar, fixed, static, statal: we cannot determine the days of the Eids in advance, nor the beginning of Ramadan, so no Januarys always enveloped in snow and ice, rather dhu’l-Hijja in spring, summer, autumn or winter, tuff on the v.i.peez who must schedule in advance: Allahumma ahfadhnaa fi’t-taghayyur.

The Duino Elegies are the foothills of the Quran; for as Visconti exclaimed, ‘You need to make life burn!’ – there comes a point where I’m no longer reciting it, rather it is reading me; surely latent too in Le cimetière marin; but only to the cat waiting in muraqqaba at the mouse-hole, then seized itself by its irate, vegan owner; wa ma adraaka ma’l-‘Aqaba! -‘Das zweckfreie, frei fließende Denken, die bildliche Vorstellungskraft, welche die Reichweite der Worte überschreitet, das anders als das wissenschaftliche Denken zu Ergebnissen unbekannter Wahrscheinlichkeit führt’, – or so will Wiki.

AbdalQadir from AbdalQadir al-Jilaani.

Somewhat omenous that when talking in the first instance to robotic internet answerers one naturally tends to enquire with the usual expressions of politeness, but then quickly realises that they were engendered not am Hof but in rare-metalled computers: ergo, not only language is being mechanically demokratized but communication is becoming devoid of courtesy.

Sans doute, the telefone age has reduced existential communication: vocal transmission is obviously inferior to physical presence of the parties, but more importantly the ability to inform a person you intend to visit and the expectation on their part that you would invariably do so removes any possibility of spontaneous arrival – thus more or less coercing the prospective host into prior preparations: tidying the household and cooking more elaborately that had the guest arrived unannounced.

A remarkable increase in the number of women hanging around seeking work in the early mornings on street corners in Casablanca after the de facto prohibition of multiple wives on the part of the King of the Maghreb almost a decade ago.

To imagine the work of a translator is redundant after AI would be folly; indeed, their work has only just begun – in particular in the task of preserving those words deemed webily incorrect or financially unsuitable.

One important task of the writer, therefore, is to outfox the wiles of the raremetalmachines: just as neodymium lay until relatively recently undiscovered in the earth so there are undoubtedly vast word-treasures waiting to be unleased and unleashed into the rrm’s.

The doomed submersible of the end of 1444 AH, contained Muslims, may Allah have mercy on them;

لَّآ إِلَٰهَ إِلَّآ أَنتَ سُبْحَٰنَكَ إِنِّى كُنتُ مِنَ ٱلظَّٰلِمِينَ

came to mind, the dua of Yunus, liberating him from the whale, but too late.

Academics interpret ancient cultures academically but are unable to describe what the Pharoah, for example, did in his spare time.

When a hungry leopard walks into a supermarket the meat counter is at risk: ergo, put all leopards to sleep lest the books show a loss – ’tis more economically sound than to train the beasts passivity and restraint.

‘Don’t curse time, for Allah is time’, said Mustafa, peace be upon him: for the child his seedling grows too slowly, for the aged gardener the weeds grow too quickly.

Repeated warnings on how difficult the Chinese and Arabic languages are to learn: half a billion Arabs and one and a half billion Chinese don’t seem to think so. Besides, which English language are we talking about: the simplified internet version for passives pigmies or Shaykh Zubayr’s?

Amirs command, Shaykhs invite.

Les schismes sociétaux sont évidemment exacerbés par la pléthore de partis politiques qui se disputent chacun une part du gâteau médiatique ; mais ce qui irrite des gens, c’est-à-dire M. Alfons Normale, c’est la prétention à l’objectivité : depuis Planck, nous savons que cela est physiquement impossible et depuis Nietzsche, linguistiquement impossible ; personne, qu’il soit droit ou gauche, au milieu, en haut, sur le côté ou à mi-hauteur, ne peut encore croire qu’un reportage objectif est réalisable – Alfons se
méfie immédiatement et inévitablement les ficelles de sa passion déchireront les nerfs de sa sérénité. Bien des guerres sont des conflits entre tribus, oeil pour oeil, et sur ce point, le Livre est clair quant aux conséquences ; de nombreuses escarmouches étaient autrefois une guerre légitime de deux cents contre mille, la bannière levée, et sur ce point le Livre est également clair.

Societal schisms are obviously exacerbated by the plethora of political parties each vying for a chunk of the media pie; but what really gets people’s goat, that is your normal common and garden goat, is the claim to objectivity: since Planck, we know that this is physically impossible and since Nietzsche, linguistically impossible; no one in their right or left minds can still believe that objective reporting is attainable – the goat smells a biased rat immediately and inevitably the strings of its passion will tear at the nerves of equanimity. Many a war is a tribal eyeing for eyeing, and on this the Book is clear as to the consequences; many a skirmish was once a legitimate war of the two hundred versus the thousand, with banner raised, and on this the Book is also clear.

Part of the matter is the setting of goal-posts in discussion: wo betide he who imagines the goal-posts have always been in one position or he who imagines by moving them the discussion shall be more sensible – for as the Arabs know, what they have one for, the ajamis have two or maybe three: par exemple, ‘aziz is power and might, rare and precious, glorious and honourable, a single expression – for if powerful, then scarce among men , and if scarce, then outstanding among them; or, kareem, is generous, but also noble – for if noble then generous usw; a diplomat of the earlier school would have been aware that when using the word ‘aziz, all three meanings were conjoined in a single sense, when using karim all two conjoined in a single sense. In other words, fluidity can only be stabilized through the balance of the person speaking:

Si vous supprimez le locuteur des mots, les mots sont libres de dériver : un locuteur équilibré parle de'un lieu existentiel à une autre personne localisée existentiellement, et trouve ainsi la voie médiane.

So instead of ‘the powerful woman must have been a ceo of a bank’, we have ‘the powerfulhonourableprecious woman must have been wise’.

Add text that respects your spacing and tabs, and also allows styling.

‘How different that impeccable actress was in real life after the premiere of her play, how impolite that glorious writer after the signing of her books, how dishevelled and smelly that uplifting artiste after the visit to her gallery, how frail that splendid Amir during his majlis.’

For Monsieur Ratio Pharma no doubt, happiness determines chemical make up, sadness the physiology, memories the enzymatics of the heart, and to a point he’s right, given that Adam was created from the minerals of dust; but his happiness is carefully gauged synthetically to the norms of the lowest common denominator, his sadness to those of losing a football match, his memories to those of the drugged suppression of healthy traumas.

Sh. Aychyoo was of the considered judgement, in most diplomatik and xistian language, before the tv-lovely that the chia akademik he’d spoken with recently held a positive view of the slaughter – ‘increases awareness, a wake-up call’; made no mention of the hashasheen. And further that the shariat was no longer an issue, it having ceased to have any connection to authority; and in agreement as to their probably wanting to completely clear the land of their semitic brothers; that the land would, by Allah, on account of the Nabi’s profecie, return to them anyway. ‘Fatalistic’, she asked, ‘No, but rather an acceptance that the matter is in His hand – Sham has always been a protected land, not holy, but vibrant with awliya; and it may well be that He, exalted be He, furthers the deen through His enemies’.

Comme Prof. Bowerliesse a dit, ‘Tout ce que les kuffar ont inventé est pour te détourner d’Allah’.

Come ha osservato Abdallah al-Hamaami in Il regno dei Sensi, “Il mio cuore salta su ogni ninfa creata da Allah e poi capisce, attraverso il vincolo dell’intelletto, perché la sharia richiede che io sia sposato – perché il matrimonio ha bisogno di tempo per organizzarsi e di cerimonie per essere onorato, e quindi la fornicazione spontanea è evitata.

To go native in the Victorian age was a kind of betrayal of the comme il faut of the white Bashas, tho’ a large number submitted to the Lord of the Worlds and so were in fact the comme if faut of the real Pashas; to go native now is decidedly less distinguished: joining the hordes leaving their deen for the digital delights of kufr is no option; raising them from their digital darkness is.

Constitutional state is lawyer-based, personal rule is people based

”

Look after yourself!

The nafs is a tricky reality,

passport to the shayaateen and to the dunya:

within its physical form however a responsibility – so ‘Look after yourself!’ he advised, ‘until your health is its death’.

The Leopard, the Lion and the Panther

The Leopard of Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa, the Lions of Europe and the Panther of Rilke

met and agreed:

tawfeeq, success, is recognising that we are rapacious, carnivorous, wild,

while calmly waiting at the water hole

behind the bushes or the bars or historical precedent, listening, scenting and reading the signs.

Not unlike the tabby at the mousehole patiently, steadfastly, awaiting the tentative probing of the whiskers.

The Salih and the Mu’addib

Said he of adab to the salih:

ما هو الفرق بين الصالح و صاحب الادب؟

المؤدب يرى من هو امامه والمكان الذي هما فيه.وصالح هو الذي يرى من هو امامه، ويرى المكان الذي هما فيه ويعمل حسب

Mathematics or the logic of opposites

The further a society is from revealed knowledge, the greater the filosofers proliferate – cos mankind is build on meaning and without it comes a great inner thirst; but strip away Allah and his Messengers and watchagot? nowt, nix, nought – so the Wortkramers ply their trade agogo using, unbeknowns to them it seems, the very vocab which issues from the divine gift of the gab: were they to read what the Lord of the Worlds, exalted be He, and His Messenger actually said, peace be upon him, they would be able to use their Allah-given faculties to explore linguistically a realm based on Truth, rather than regress in their endless meanderings towards truth.

The one is sophystikated and the other is gullible, but trusting; one loves Mme Sophy and the other Demoiselle ‘Ilm, the gift of the ‘Alim, the All-Knower; the one covers up the Haqq, the Real, with information, the other discloses it with iman; the one has yaqeen and sakeena, the other skepticism and mistrust.

They will say, ‘There were three of them, their dog being the fourth.’ They will say, ‘There were five of them, their dog being the sixth,’ guessing at the Unseen. And they will say, ‘There were seven of them, their dog being the eighth.’ Say: ‘My Lord knows best their number. Those who know about them are very few.’

L’État, c’est moi!

Torrential rain for weeks. Then in the morning sunshine came a orangebesuitedemployee with a large, noisy water contraption and began to sprinkle the geraniums in the large square wooden planter-trough: a benign form of Solzhenitsyn’s deadly soviet quotas.

Und noch ein Beispiel:

Warum tummeln sich hier die Krabben in ihren Töpfen, Muscheln gibt es im Meer und auf den Tellern in Hülle und Fülle, die Boote verkehren Wellenweise vom Hafen, der Fisch ist frisch – wo doch die Stadt Stralsund etwa so groß wie Scarborough, aber fischweise tot ist? Wurde es vielleicht offiziell als rein touristisches Phänomen bezeichnet?

Deen ou Religion?

Que veux-tu, cher lecteur ? deen ou religion? - le dernier étant le reste de la vérité lorsque vous séparez la vie du deen – ce qui, comme l'affirment même ceux qui la dissimulent, est « un mode de vie » ; ou mieux, comme nous disons, le mode de vie. Et comment se produit cette scission imaginaire ? - lorsque le deen est perçu comme un concept dénué de pouvoir, phénomène souvent récurrent, voire recherché par certains, au cours de l'histoire, comme le notait Ibn Khaldun : il y a ceux qui s'en tiennent à l'idée théorique, à l'idéal mentale, ceux qui s'occupent de leurs affaires et, ce faisant, foulent souvent foulent aux pieds le sunna du Messager, sur qui soient la paix et les bénédictions, sans sortir du pâle de l'Islam, et ceux qui s'attachent à la fois à la connaissance et à l'action; tous recherchent le pouvoir de remplir leur position, et la vigueur et la santé peuvent résider dans la dynamique de ces trois tensions. Mais une analyse objective et journalistique de l'extérieur, à savoir : « Le clergé musulman déteste la grossièreté des politiciens musulmans, les politiciens musulmans n'aiment pas les restrictions de la religion, les masses modérées sont tolérantes, une motte passive entre ces deux derniers extrêmes » , ne parvient pas à saisir le décret inexorable qui régit le tout – lorsque cela est pris en compte, l’acte d’unification peut commencer.

Dr. Asadullah Yate

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