Reflections that Sigh with Sorrow and Pose Questions

Yemenat

Ahmed Saif Hashed

In the name of Allah, you may find your spirit at risk, without a means to shield yourself from a self-proclaimed scholar cloaked in ignorance.

This individual is only concerned with the sound of his own voice, mercilessly silencing dissenting opinions and the truths articulated by those who differ from him.

Consequently, he imposes his narrow perspective and outdated beliefs upon your right to think and engage your intellect.

As a result, you may face his sword of ridicule or the brutality of his hand.

You might encounter a religious group that believes it possesses an infallible truth-one that claims, “No falsehood can approach from before it or behind it.”

The certainties it proclaims leave no room for doubt or skepticism, rejecting even the slightest space for your opinion.

Its irrational fatwas unleash violence upon you, potentially leading to your harm, your death, or calamities that befall entire peoples, nations, or individuals.

Perhaps you will find an authority ensnared in its own narrow-mindedness, clinging to a culture steeped in darkness and reactionism. This authority may find it all too easy to end your life or threaten it simply because you hold a different opinion or a novel idea.

Their disregard for your existence or bodily safety stems from your willingness to pose questions that provoke mental upheaval, challenging the status quo or igniting existential inquiries that could reshape the consciousness of the rigid or conservative society in which you live.

Countless logical or epistemological questions linger, their expression or pursuit of answers in such a rusted and regressive environment thrusting you into fierce confrontation with your harsh reality or leading you to imprisonment.

Such inquiries may even result in your certain demise, transforming you into a sacrifice and a bridge for an ignorant individual steeped in fanaticism and folly, who seeks paradise and forgiveness through the extinguishing of your fragile spirit.

This, and much more, reflects a historical reality burdened by its own dogmas, filled with prohibitions and criminalizations that weigh heavily upon us.

This weight persists because you refuse to submit quietly; instead, you choose to delve deeply into contemplation and articulate your perceptions, or to proclaim an idea that does not align with a society dulled in awareness.

You may confront an authority that manipulates religion, a group that has commodified it, or an ignorant cleric who claims to embody the entirety of truth.

The Persian astronomer, philosopher, and poet Omar Khayyam, renowned for his exquisite quatrains and who departed this world in 1124 AD, found himself embroiled in accusations of heresy and atheism, driven by his profound doubts and existential struggles.

He poignantly articulated his conflict with existence when he wrote:

“I was compelled to descend into the arena of life,
Yet all its visits have done is deepen my bewilderment…

And now I depart from it reluctantly;
If only I knew the purpose of my leaving, and of my coming and staying!”

It appears that the poet Elia Abu Madhi drew inspiration from Khayyam’s quatrain in his poem “The Talismans.” In this extensive work, comprising approximately 340 verses, Abu Madi poses a multitude of existential questions, commencing with:

“I came, not knowing from where, but I arrived,
And I have seen before me a path, so I walked.
I will keep walking, whether I wish it or not.
How did I come? How did I find my way?
I do not know.”

The inquiries then cascade in an endless stream, with each stanza culminating in an answer-I do not know-yet this closure brims with bewilderment that stirs profound intellectual curiosity, prompting further exploration and inquiry.

These inquiries fracture the foundations of doubt, widening them, while their hammers relentlessly strike at the doors of consciousness, persistently urging these doors and locks to be opened.

Abu Madhi, in ” Talismans,” eloquently narrates and interrogates the mysteries that beckon revelation, the ambiguities that yearn for clarity, and the enigmas that seek resolution.

He poses questions to the sea, the monastery, and the graves, igniting philosophical inquiries that aim to restore stolen awareness and dispel false certainties.

“I do not know” resonates at the end of each stanza, as if he is pleading for salvation after posing bold questions that demand answers.

The question resembles stones cast into a placid pond, seeking to unveil what lies beneath its surface, provoking a quest for insight and generating further inquiries.

Abu Madhi immerses himself in these questions, grappling with philosophical dilemmas previously pondered by thinkers and theologians of ages long past: Is humanity in this existence free or predestined? He presents this conundrum with striking poetic clarity:

“Am I free and unbound, or a prisoner in chains?
Am I the master of my own life, or am I led?
I wish I knew, but…
I do not know.”

In another passage, he reflects:

“O Sea, you are a captive—ah, what a grand captivity!
You, like me, O Mighty One, do not possess your own fate.
Your condition mirrors mine, and my excuse reflects yours.

When will I escape this captivity, and when will you?
I do not know.”

In yet another excerpt, he articulates:

“In you, like me, O Mighty One, there are shells and sand.
You are without shade, while I cast a shadow on the earth.
You are devoid of reason, and I, O Sea, possess a mind.
So why, I wonder, do I move on while you remain?
I do not know.”

How did we come to be? This question provokes myriad responses and ignites fervent debates, laden with risks and consequences that could strip you of your very life or severely curtail your freedom.

In a dark and oppressive environment or within a rigid and fanatical society, one must be prepared to take bold risks and confront the challenges that lie ahead.

Pursuing this question can cost you everything-perhaps even more-if you allow your mind to wander freely in search of an answer that transcends the norms and conventions of the community in which you exist.

“And speaking of which…” The song “Without Why” (Min Gheir Leh) was originally intended for the celebrated artist Abdelhalim Hafez to perform at the Spring Festival in 1977.

Tragically, Abdelhalim passed away before spring could arrive, and the lyricist Morsi Gamal Aziz followed him into death three years later. Ultimately, the esteemed musician Mohammed Abdelwahab brought the song to life in 1989, after a significant period of retirement.

“Min Gheir Leh” is often regarded as the crowning achievement of poet Morsi Gamal Aziz and has been described as “the most perilous poem in his extensive artistic career.” Approximately a decade after his passing, this poem sparked a court case that summoned Abdelwahab to trial.

This legal challenge arose when a self-righteous individual approached the Fatwa Committee at Al-Azhar, seeking a religious ruling on the work. The poem opens with the poignant lines:

“We come into this world not knowing why,
Nor where we are going, nor what we desire.
Our paths are drawn for our footsteps,
We traverse them in the estrangement of our nights.

Some days bring us joy, while others wound us,
And we remain, not knowing why.
Just as we came, we came,
And it is not in our hands that we came.”

In response to this controversy, numerous thinkers, enlightened individuals, and Egyptian lawyers rallied to defend the poem and its creators.

Their efforts culminated in a resounding victory for poetry and art over the forces of darkness and ignorance, resulting in a full acquittal for the poem, its writer, and its singer.

There is little space here to delve into the fates of those who were executed, burned, killed, or imprisoned under unjust rulings or without verdicts; those whose books and works were destroyed, or who were accused of heresy and atheism for daring to breach the forbidden and liberate their minds, thoughts, and reflections in the pursuit of societal enlightenment.

The number of such individuals is vast, as are their sacrifices, leaving a world weighed down by pain and sorrow.