of 407 (though al-Maqin says 408), a Persian _daʿi_ named Muhammad
b. Ismaʿil Darazi arrived in Egypt, a Batinite who believed in the
transmigration of souls, and hoped to find at the Fatimid court a
congenial atmosphere for his mystic creed. He attached himself to the
Khalif, over whom he soon began to have great influence, and from whom he
received many gifts and favours. In due course he succeeded in persuading
the prince that he was an incarnation of the deity, and wrote a book in
which he taught that the Divine Spirit which God had breathed into Adam
had passed on in due succession from prophet to prophet, through the Imam
ʿAli, until at length it found its abode in the Imam Hakim. So great was
his influence over the Khalif that much of the public business was given
into his hands, and all who desired to approach the Khalif had to pay
court to the _daʿi_. The heir elect seems to have fallen into disfavour
about this time. He was sent away from Cairo but given the important
post of governor of Damascus. After he had been in Syria for some time
he was suddenly attacked by a band of men who, after slaying several of
his companions, put him in a box and carried him to Egypt. There he was
released and, a little later, was sent back to Damascus. No explanation
of this strange event is suggested, but it was generally believed that he
was thus treated by the Khalif’s orders.
Amongst some of the more advanced Shiʿites many were found to follow
the new doctrines of Darazi, and the _daʿi_ accompanied by a band of
followers went down to the Old Mosque where he read from the book he had
written. According to an account given by al-Masin a Turk, shocked at the
blasphemies which occurred in this reading, fell upon Darazi and killed
him, after which his house was pillaged, and a tumult followed which
lasted for three days. The Turk was arrested and put in prison, and was
then brought to trial on another charge for which he was executed. For
a long time the Turk’s grave was visited by the orthodox who regarded
him as a martyr. But this account is not strictly correct, for Darazi
was not killed at that time. According to Abu l-Mahsin, the most weighty
authority, Hakim did not openly endorse Darazi’s teaching; when the
tumult arose in the mosque Darazi escaped and received money from Hakim,
and with this retired to Syria where he preached in the mountainous
parts where the people were very ignorant, and amongst them he obtained
many disciples and founded a sect, the Druses, which still exists in the
Lebanon. In religion these Druses hold a kind of pantheism, which in
many respects verges upon agnosticism, but has a pure morality, in spite
of the many charges which have been made against this as against every
other religion which keeps its creed a secret from the outside world.
About the same time, or perhaps a little after, a Persian from Farghana
named Hasan al-Akhram, also appears as using his influence to persuade
Hakim of his deity, or to develop the ideas which Darazi had already
instilled into him. This man formed a party on the conventional lines
of the extremer Shiʿites, entirely discarding all the traditional
observances of the Muslim religion. One day he went with a band of fifty
followers to the Old Mosque, where he found the Qadi sitting and hearing
cases. After treating the by-standers roughly, they present a question to
the Qadi, beginning their words with the form “In the name of Hakim, the
merciful, the compassionate,” applying to him the terms usually applied
to God. The Qadi raised his voice and protested against this with great
indignation. The people were so angry at the blasphemy that they fell
upon Akhram and his followers: of the latter several were killed, but
Akhram escaped.
The most famous of these duʿat, who at this time advocated the
deification of Hakim, was Hamza b. ʿAli b. Ahmad Hadi, a native of
Zawzan in Persia. The Druses regard him as their founder, and date their
years from the “Era of Hamza,” which is placed in A.H. 408. It seems
that his teaching was earlier than that of Ahmad the Qadi (405), and so
probably he was in private conference with Hakim from somewhere about
405 until he made public declaration of his doctrine in 408. He dwelt in
the Mosque of Bir at Mantarea, originally the tomb of an ʿAlid who had
been put to death in 145, afterwards known as the Mosque of Tibr after a
minister who served under Kafur, and was one of those who had tried to
resist the entry of Jawhar. He preached and invited the people to accept
the teaching already expounded by Darazi, and sent out missionaries of
his doctrines to various parts of Egypt and Syria. Hakim was greatly
influenced by Hamza, and was induced by him to discard all the outward
observances of Islam, ceasing to visit the mosques, or to take part in
prayer. Under the pretext that the Arabs were a danger to travellers
he suppressed the pilgrimage to Mecca and ceased to send the veil to
the “House of God,” all of which caused great disgust to the orthodox.
Hamza and twelve of his disciples, the traditional number of the Shiʿite
_nakibs_, were in constant attendance on Hakim. It seems that Hamza was
the real founder and teacher of Hakim’s deity, and that Darazi was one
of his converts. But the details of the formation of this sectarian
development during the years 405-408 are full of obscurities: it does
not seem safe to follow the sacred books of the Druses who idealised
the whole matter. We do not find ourselves on solid ground until 408,
when the claims of Hakim to deity were publicly proclaimed and admitted
by the Khalif himself. It is said (by Severus) that Hakim claimed to
have a knowledge of secret things, and tried to support this claim by
evidence which he gleaned from his spies. But Severus’ evidence must be
regarded with some suspicion: a Syrian Christian he heard of the events
in Egypt only at second hand, and is very obviously influenced by strong
prejudices. He refers to this claimed omniscience of Hakim the incident
of the letter which read: “We have endured injustice and tyranny, but
we are not willing to endure impiety and folly. If thou knowest hidden
things, say the name of him who wrote this letter,” an incident which
seems to belong to the early days of the Khalif al-Mahdi in Kairawan.
Severus further tells us that when Hakim’s name was mentioned in the
_khutba_ all present rose out of respect; but in Fustat the people made a
prostration at this name. He is referring, no doubt, to reported conduct
of Hamza’s followers. He says further that there were some people who,
when Hakim appeared in the streets, used to prostrate themselves on
the ground and cry out: “O thou only one, thou alone, thou who givest
life and death”: this is exactly what might be expected of the extremer
Shiʿites, and is in no way incredible. At this time all persecution of
Christians and Jews entirely ceased; obviously the Khalif no longer
regarded Islam as in any way superior to those other religions. Persons
who had turned Muslims were permitted to return to their former beliefs;
contrary to Muslim law they were protected from all punishment, but it is
obvious that at this juncture Muslim law was not in any sense observed in
the Fatimid state. Severus tells us that some Christians and Jews came to
the Khalif and said: “My God, I desire to return to my former religion”:
and Hakim replied: “Do as seems good to you.” According to the books of
the Druses: “Although it is a precept to make war with the unbelievers,
our lord has abolished this precept so far as concerns Jews and
Christians.” The Druses refer this to the era of Hamza, _i.e._, 408 A.H.,
but Severus puts it in the year 736 of the “era of the Martyrs,” that is
A.H. 411, the closing year of Hakim’s reign, and dates the beginning of
the persecution of Christians from 402, taking the destruction of the
great Church in Jerusalem as the beginning of the persecution, that is to
say, the beginning of the time when active steps were taken which reached
to Syria as well as Egypt, and in this agrees with Abu l-Mahsin, but
Maqrizi puts the destruction of the Church of the Resurrection in 400 so
that the end of the persecution, which lasted nine years, would come in
408-409, when Hakim had assented to the public declaration of his deity
which seems to be the more probable date.
Towards the end of the nine years of persecution it was reported to Hakim
that some converts from Christianity had been celebrating the rites
of their former religion privately in houses, but he took no steps to
punish them, and this emboldened others to do likewise. If this was so
it would seem that there was no formal decree of toleration but simply
that the penal regulations were permitted to sink into oblivion. Then
some attended on the Khalif and asked permission to revert to their
former religion. Hakim asked where were their girdles, crosses, and
other badges?—they produced them from under their clothes. The Khalif
made no rebuke but told them that they could do as they pleased, and
sent them with an attendant to the office where they obtained letters of
protection. After this many unwilling converts did the same, until most
of those who had changed their religion from fear had returned to their
former faith.
The monk Yamin next procured the exiled Patriarch Zacharias an interview
with the Khalif, which took place in the monastery of St. Mercurius
at Sahran. In the course of this interview Hakim gave permission to
the Christians to re-open their churches, to restore those which had
been destroyed, to recover building material removed at the time when
churches were being demolished, and to regain possession of gardens
and property attached to the churches and monasteries. The Christians
were no longer required to wear distinctive badges, or rather the
disuse of those badges was tacitly condoned, and were allowed to sound
bells. Ibn Khallikan refers this toleration to 411, which agrees with
Severus and with Bar Hebraeus, who speaks of this change as taking place
shortly before Hakim was killed, and adds that at this time many of the
Christians who had gone abroad returned to Egypt. Probably breaches of
the persecuting laws began to be condoned in 408 or soon after, and these
increased gradually as it was seen that they could be made with impunity.
Meanwhile the extremes to which the followers of Hamza were prepared
to go also increased. Some of the courtiers on entering the Khalif’s
presence saluted him, “Hail to thee, only and unique one, hail to thee
who givest life and death, who bestowest wealth and poverty.” Having in
view the peculiar religious tendencies of the extremer Shiʿite sects, it
must not surprise us that there were some apparently sincere in their
acceptation of the divine character of the Imam, although the bulk of
the people remained sober and orthodox Muslims. One of the adherents of
Hamza’s doctrines who was at Mecca struck his lance on the sacred Black
Stone and said: “Why, O foolish ones, do you adore and kiss that which
cannot be of any use to you nor injure you, whilst you neglect him who is
in Egypt, who giveth life and death?”
Ibn Khallikan tells us that one day a Qurʾan reader was reading at court
the verse: “And they will not—I swear by the Lord—they will not believe,
until they have set thee up as judge between them on points where they
differ” (Qur. iv. 68), pointing the while towards the Khalif. Ibn
al-Mushajjar, a devout man who was present, then recited the verse: “O
men, a parable is set forth to you, wherefore hearken to it. Verily, they
on whom ye call beside God, cannot create a fly, though they assemble
for it; and if the fly carry off aught from them, they cannot take it
away from it. Weak the suppliant and the supplicated” (Qur. xxii. 72). At
this the Khalif changed countenance; to Ibn al-Mushajjar he presented
100 dinars, to the reader he gave nothing. But afterwards a friend said
to Ibn Mushajjar: “You know al-Hakim’s character, and are aware of his
frequent prevarications: take heed lest he conceive a hatred for you and
punish you later. You would then have much to suffer from him. My advice
is that you get out of his sight.” Ibn al-Mushajjar took this advice
seriously and set out on the pilgrimage to Mecca, but was ship-wrecked
and drowned.
The years 408 to 411 were entirely abnormal in the history of Egypt.
It has been suggested that the entire change in Hakim’s conduct during
these years was due to his being now initiated into the higher grades
of the Ismaʿilian sect, and thus he was now disposed to disregard all
forms of religion. But it seems to be very dubious how far the regular
Ismaʿilian system had remained in vigour in Fatimid Egypt. The state
was professedly Shiʿite, the Chief Daʿi held the regular conferences
required by the rules of the brotherhood, and undoubtedly initiates
were admitted: but since the sojourn in Egypt it rather seems that the
sect as a religious organization had greatly weakened, save in the one
respect that it was regarded with loyalty by the extremer Shiʿites in
Persia, and that from Persia more especially there was a constant stream
of pilgrims, enthusiastic sectaries whose enthusiasm was, if anything, a
source of embarrassment to the Egyptian government, whose interests were
now plainly political. Hamza, Darazi, and, later on, the originators of
the sect of Assassins, were all Persian Shiʿites who came to visit Egypt.
It seems more probable that Hakim’s new attitude was entirely due to the
influence of these Persian visitors.
In the year 409 Hakim was riding in the streets and saw what he supposed
to be a woman standing in the street, a plain breach of the regulations
in force. At once Hakim rode over to her and found that she was holding
out a petition in her hand. He ordered one of his attendants to take the
paper and arrest the woman. When they laid hands on her it turned out
that it was only a guy of paper, and the document she held out was full
of charges against the chastity of the Princess Hakim’s sister. Hakim
went home in a towering rage. He abused his sister for giving ground for
such reflections to be made on her honour, and spoke to her many harsh
words. More than once before this he had treated her harshly when she had
ventured to remonstrate with him on his various cruelties, but this was
an attack graver than he had ever made previously.
Next day Hakim turned loose his mercenaries, Arabs, Berbers, Greeks, and
negroes, upon the city. For three days they broke open houses, pillaged,
slew those who resisted them, violated women, and carried off maidens of
the best families, and burned a great part of Fustat. Each day Hakim rode
out to the cemetery of Karafa and looked down on the suffering city. Many
of the citizens came around him to implore mercy, but he remained unmoved
and gave no sign of hearing them. On the fourth day the Sherifs assembled
in the mosques lifting Qurʾans to heaven and implored divine assistance.
So piteous was the condition of the people that many of the Turkish
guards were moved and took their part, and in this they were soon joined
by the Berbers, both doing their best to restrain the bestial ferocity
of the negroes, until the whole place was raging in civil war. At length
some of the Turks went to Hakim, and in no measured terms called on him
to interfere and stop this terrible state of affairs. Hakim replied quite
coolly deploring the excesses of the soldiery, and agreeing with the
Turks that it ought to be stopped. He then rode down into the city on his
ass and stopped the conflict. After that he called the Turks and Berbers
round him, expressed the greatest regret for the suffering which the
city had had to undergo, protested that he did not at all desire such an
unhappy event, and that it could not be avoided, and published a general
amnesty. As soon as things settled down it was found that about a third
of the city had been burned, and about a half pillaged. The citizens had
much trouble in recovering their ravished wives, daughters, and sisters,
most of whom had been dishonoured by the negro soldiers. Some of the
women had committed suicide to avoid this shame. Many of the citizens
went to Hakim and asked him to get back their women for them. Hakim told
them to ransom them from their captors and promised to reimburse any
sums which were laid out in this manner. One of the townsmen reproached
him very harshly for this great disgrace to a Muslim community, and
expressed the hope that the women of the Khalif’s own family would suffer
the same as their wives and daughters. Hakim bore this reproach patiently
and made a mild reply.
Although this atrocious deed had made Hakim feel that he had revenged
himself on those who had reflected on his sister, he had by no means
forgiven her. After upbraiding her in no measured terms he informed her
that he would send some women to examine her and find if she really
were a virgin or not. The Asiatic historians who make most reference
to the Princess describe her as a woman of the noblest character and
of the highest chastity, and represent this as a deliberate and insane
insult offered by her brother. It is not at all clear that this is a
true estimate. Later on we find her as a woman of undoubted ability,
but unscrupulous character. At the same time it is extremely probable
that the members of Hakim’s family had graver reasons for alarm than
anyone else, if indeed it be true that he was now showing plain signs
of a disordered brain. At any rate when Hakim made this threat she was
greatly alarmed; it may be that she feared such an examination, or it
may be that she deeply resented the insult. In her alarm she went to
Yusuf b. Dawwas ad-Dawla. Although one of the great nobles of Egypt Yusuf
abstained from attending the court and had so abstained for some time,
being thoroughly alarmed at Hakim’s conduct, and was careful to meet the
Khalif only at public functions which he could not avoid. One time Hakim
at such a parade asked him to visit him in his palace, but Yusuf did not
make the desired visit. The next time they met in public Hakim reproached
him for this, and Yusuf replied plainly that he would rather not go to
the palace; if Hakim had any evil intention towards him he would rather
wait at home to be summoned to death than to go to the palace, be killed
there, and thrown to the dogs. At this reply Hakim only laughed, but
Yusuf had serious fears that sooner or later the Khalif would have his
revenge, and probably a cruel one.
The Princess sent to Yusuf and asked for an interview with him at night.
This was arranged and she went to Yusuf’s house and explained to him
the great dangers threatening them both. The best thing to do would
be to arrange Hakim’s death: “You,” she said, “will be made general of
the armies, minister of the empire, and guardian of the young prince.
I shall live quietly in my palace as befits my sex and take no part in
business.” Some reports say that she also promised to marry Yusuf. To
all this Yusuf agreed. She asked him to supply two absolutely trusty
men, and these he provided. A plan of assassination was agreed upon, and
the two cut-throats were presented by her with a Maghrabi dagger each.
With reference to this account, which is given by Bar Hebraeus, and
outlined by al-Makini, Maqrizi says: “No credit should be given to what
the Asiatic writers say in their books, that this prince perished by
the plots of his sister. But God alone knows the whole truth” (Maq. ii.
289). It is important to note that Severus of Ashmunayn, who wrote only
thirty years after these events, makes no mention of the Princess in this
connection, though his tendency is to repeat all gossip unfavourable to
the Fatimids: he simply states that the details of Hakim’s disappearance
were unknown.
According to Ibn Khallikan, Hakim went out late in the night of 27th
Shawal 411, and spent the whole night going about on the Mokattam hill.
At daybreak he was near the tomb of Fokkai, and thence went east to
Hulwan, about five miles from Cairo, accompanied by two attendants. He
then met a company of Arabs, nine in number, who had a request to make
of him. He told them to go to the palace, and sent one of his attendants
with them. For some time he continued with the second attendant, then
told him to go back also. At that time he was still near the tomb of
Fokkai. The second attendant returned to the palace and left the Khalif
alone on Mokattam. Next morning he did not return, and for three days
no sign of him was seen; then, on Sunday, the 2nd of Dhu l-Zaʿda, the
eunuch Nesim, who was the chamberlain, and a number of other officials,
went out on the hills to make a search. At length they reached the
monastery known as Dayr al-Kosayr, and near there they found Hakim’s ass
with its saddle on but its legs hacked off. Following the footsteps of
the ass, which were accompanied by the footprints of two men they came
to a hollow where they found the Khalif’s clothes with marks of cuts,
but the buttons not undone. No body was ever found. It was assumed that
Hakim had been murdered, and that his arms had been cut off before the
clothes were removed. After the discovery of the ass and of the clothes
had been reported, the Princess considered it expedient to have Hakim’s
infant son proclaimed Khalif, thus avoiding the claims of ʿAbdu r-Rahim,
the heir designated by Hakim, and it seems that the main evidence for her
supposed complicity with the murder rests on this act which assumed that
he must be dead, though it is difficult to see how she could have acted
differently under the circumstances.
Al-Mahsin is reported as saying that Hakim went out, and that after
sending back Nesim and his squire, he had as companions only a page
and a young slave: at the time he was filled with apprehensions as he
knew from his horoscope that the night was one of great peril to him.
When he was on Mokattam he said: “We belong to God and return to him”:
then clapping his hands together he added, “Thou hast appeared then,
O dismal sign,” referring to the star whose appearance he took as the
warning of his death. Going along the hillside he met ten men of the B.
Qorra who had a request to make to him, and said that they had often
waited in vain at his palace door. Hakim orders them to be paid 10,000
pieces of silver from the treasury, and directs his page to go with them
and draw the money for them. They objected that it might be that the
Khalif was angry with them for interrupting his walk, and that perhaps
the order in the page’s hand might privately direct that they were to
be put to punishment, so they requested that he would also give them a
safe conduct, and this the Khalif gave. Hakim and the young slave then
go on and enter a valley where the two men sent by Yusuf are lying in
ambush. They came out and fell upon him just as the day was dawning. At
their appearance he cried out, “Wretches, what do you want?” They cut
off his two arms, open his stomach, and tear out the entrails, and wrap
the body in a robe. They then slew the slave, cut the traces of the ass,
and carried off the body to Yusuf. He took it to the Princess, who made
presents to him and to the two murderers. She then sent for the wazir,
revealed to him what had happened, and made him promise secrecy. She
persuaded him to write to ʿAbdu r-Rahim at Damascus, and at the same time
sent an officer named ʿAli b. Dawud to Ferma to seize ʿAbdu r-Rahim on
his way to Egypt and carry him to Tannis; and also she sent instructions
to the governor of Tannis. Next day it was observed that Hakim did not
return. Abu Arus would not allow the gates of Kahira to be opened,
stating that the Khalif had ordered them to be closed the day before, and
no search was made until the following day. The Princess had conferences
with the chiefs of the Katama tribe and other leading persons and, with
the help of lavish presents, induced them to recognise Hakim’s son as his
successor, although they had already given formal recognition to ʿAbdu
r-Rahim. On the seventh day she dressed the child in rich robes and sent
for Yusuf, whom she declared to be ustad or guardian. Then the child
was taken out in state, the wazir proclaimed him as Khalif, and he was
generally recognised.