Before the Throne

  “My people were only concerned with farming and their own private lives,” said Ahmose II.

  “You served as their example, in your love of riotous feasting with wine,” jibed Ramesses II. “I have nothing against such banquets—if the one who gives them is great!”

  “His excellent works are not inconsiderable,” Isis interjected. “His plan was a wise one, though it failed.”

  Osiris thought for a while, then pronounced, “You shall languish in Purgatory for a thousand years, before dwelling in the particular level of Paradise appropriate to your modest merit.”

  39

  HORUS RAISED HIS VOICE to extol, “King Psamtek the Third!”

  A strongly built man of medium height advanced in his winding sheet until he stood before the throne.

  Thoth commenced to read from the sacred tome before him, “He reigned for three months. Then he and his army defended Egypt against the Persian king, Cambyses, but his forces were routed and he fell captive to the foe. Cambyses slew him and seized control of the country.”

  Osiris asked him to address the court.

  “I came to the throne as the Persian armies were penetrating Egypt,” replied Psamtek III, “so I prepared my Greek troops for battle while urgently conscripting a small army of Egyptians. I met the enemy in a fierce engagement, but we found ourselves surrounded, and I was taken prisoner. Cambyses wanted me to rule as his puppet, obedient to his commands. But I plotted secretly to resist the invasion: I was exposed, and for it I paid the price of my life.”

  “Tell me about the resolve of the Greek and Egyptian soldiers in the fight,” demanded Thutmose III.

  “No doubt, that of the Egyptians was immeasurably greater than the others,” said Psamtek III.

  “I expected to hear just that,” Thutmose III affirmed. “Perhaps if your whole army had been Egyptian, the encounter would have turned out differently. But you disregarded your own people and relied entirely on foreigners—and so the history of independent Egypt ended at your hands.”

  “We cannot overlook that he refused to occupy the throne in the shadow of alien rule,” Seqenenra intervened, “sacrificing himself by doing so. I myself shared such a fate.”

  “Before you stands my son, so blighted by misfortune,” Isis implored. “He fought with all his bravery. If his ambition had been to rule at any cost, then it would have yielded to him. Instead, he died nobly and dearly.”

  Osiris bid him, “Go take your seat among the Immortals.”

  40

  OSIRIS ADDRESSED the court:

  “Members of the tribunal, now we are done with Egypt of the pharaohs. This court is not concerned with passing judgment on foreign rulers, but considers them all accursed outsiders. Rather, it differentiates by degree between the good ruler and the corrupt. Accordingly, it shall render account for the Egyptians, whether their nationality was gained by heredity or earned through residence and loyalty of the heart. Our verdicts shall not be final in the case of Egyptians who accept a new creed, such as Christianity or Islam. Instead, our judgment shall be a sort of historical appraisal that we hope will be duly considered when the citizen is tried by his proper religious court in the Abode of the Everlasting.

  “Now I leave it to Thoth, the Divine Recorder, to speak.”

  “Egypt of the gods and pyramids, of temples and enlightened consciences, came to an end,” Thoth began. “Persian kings sat on the Golden Throne. They adopted our customs and worshiped our gods, but nonetheless the Egyptians despised them. The people rose up in rebellion, to be defeated and enslaved. Then Alexander came and invaded our country as a liberator, after which one of his commanders inherited Egypt—his dynasty established a state and a civilization. The foreigners took charge of all important activity, while the Egyptians lived in darkness, cultivating the land, content with their place in the world.

  “That is, with the exception of the priests, who were left in control of religious affairs. Resistance movements exploded in the form of mass emigrations and riots, which were put down with great bloodshed and brutality. The Greek family’s era ended with the reign of Cleopatra, and the nation went under a new foreign rule, that of Rome, which considered her but a province to be annexed for her grains. The country’s situation worsened. Each time the Egyptians rose up against oppression, their revolt was crushed and their blood flowed freely. In the epoch of the Roman ruler Nero, Christianity entered Egypt, and a part of the population changed their religion. This religion did not spring from Egypt herself, as happened in the age of Akhenaten, but was imported from abroad. Those who embraced the new faith clung to a strict asceticism, many of them dwelling in desert caves in flight from despotic rule and the corruption of the world.

  “The Roman government fought the new faith, raining spears down upon its converts until the reign of the Emperor Diocletian became known as the Era of the Martyrs. In the time of Theodosius, the emperor decreed that Christians would be under his protection. Thus the ancient religion knew its own martyrs too—though the majority adopted Christianity, forming a distinct sect within it. The spirit of religious zeal blended with patriotic fervor, together fomenting an uprising in demand of independence. In riposte, they met with torture and killing on a limitless scale.

  “The conflict turned into a sectarian battle between the Egyptian Church and that of Byzantium, and the death-struggle continued, accompanied by the most intense forms of repression.”

  A weighty silence fell as Thoth read to the court. When he had finished, Osiris motioned to Horus, who called out, “Al-Muqawqas, governor of Egypt!”

  A short, thickset man came in, covered in his shroud, walking forward until he stood before the throne.

  Thoth then read aloud, “Governor of Egypt before and after the Byzantine Conquest. The Copts considered him an Egyptian. During his time, the Arabs invaded Egypt, and he reached an agreement with them to be rid of Byzantine control. Thus Egypt entered a new era, under Arab rule.”

  Osiris invited him to speak, so al-Muqawqas began, “I held power in Egypt before the emperor did. Despite my Greek origins, the Jacobite sect of Egypt was satisfied with me, and the Copts thought of me as being one of them. I made an accord with the Arabs, throwing out the Byzantines—and the terms were most favorable.”

  “How could you have consented to a foreign invasion?” asked Abnum.

  “I say to you, they were benevolent invaders,” al-Muqawqas replied. “Their leader, Amr ibn al-As, divided Egypt into districts, and put a Coptic governor at the head of each. The people felt relieved in a way they had not been for hundreds of years. He lifted the restrictions on religious practice, and the Copts worshiped their Lord in the manner in which they believed.”

  “Then they did not take it upon themselves to resist the intruders?” gasped Ramesses II.

  “A minority cherished their country above all,” answered al-Muqawqas. “Yet the principal goal of the Arabs was to proselytize a new religion, and to use the invasion to spread Islam.”

  “And did Egypt experience a new age of martyrdom?” queried Abnum.

  “The Arabs preached their faith without compulsion,” al-Muqawqas told him. “Those who held to their old one paid the head tax to do so.”

  “What is the actual difference between this religion and ours of old?” Khufu wondered.

  “They believe in the Divinity’s uniqueness,” said al-Muqawqas.

  “That is my God, as well as my religion—I always knew I would triumph in the end,” boasted Akhenaten. “Tell me, how did the people accept this faith? In my lifetime only a handful believed in it, and they carried no weight.”

  “Let’s not quarrel over the gods,” implored Abnum. “Talk to me about how the peasants and laborers benefited instead.”

  “Amr ibn al-As annulled a great many arbitrary taxes, and conditions lifted for the poor.”

  “This man’s policies restored our children’s welfare in a way that cannot be denied,” spouted Isis.

  “We grant you a certif
icate of commendation,” said Osiris, “that may be of benefit in your proper religious trial.”

  41

  HORUS HAILED, “Pope Benjamin!”

  A thin man of medium height came in, pacing forward until he stood before the throne.

  Thoth, Scribe of the Gods, then recited, “They persecuted him with banishment in the desert. Amr ibn al-As released him when declaring freedom of worship and the eviction of the Byzantines.”

  Osiris bid him speak.

  “Belief is what ennobles man—what gives him his dignity, his strength, and his path to God,” said Pope Benjamin. “I endured what I did of Byzantine oppression without being shaken in my faith. Then I shut myself in a monastery in protest against humanity’s descent into the abyss of tyranny and corruption. Then God willed that Egypt should find herself ruled by the sons of Ishmael—and that they should institutionalize the freedom of religion. Hence I once again exercised the Alexandrian papacy and the spiritual governance of the Copts.”

  “So the best thing that an Egyptian could wish for,” reeled Thutmose III, “was a just foreign occupation!”

  “Our people had spent roughly a thousand years huddled in their villages,” said Patriarch Benjamin, “prostrate under alien dynasties, who ruled over them by force and the sword.”

  “Did you not use your spiritual authority to awaken the populace?” asked Abnum.

  “I lived at the time of a new invasion,” the patriarch explained, “one that brought religious liberty and which lightened the torments of the peasantry. The occupiers did not impose their religion upon us, so it would not have been appropriate to spread the spirit of rebellion.”

  “There is no blame for this man,” advised Isis, “who lived in an age whose advantage belonged to others.”

  “There is nothing that our court can hold against you,” determined Osiris.

  42

  HORUS HERALDED, “Athanasius the Egyptian!”

  A waif-like man of medium stature walked in, wrapped in his winding sheet, until he stood before the throne.

  Osiris then proclaimed, “This court is assembled to try Egyptian rulers. This man was not a ruler, yet he represents the return of Egyptians to government. Therefore, his testimony is not lacking in historical significance.”

  “I began as a translator of Coptic into Arabic,” stated Athanasius, “when Coptic was the language of the treasury accounts. Egypt lived in peace and stability until the reign of the Caliph Uthman, whose policies divided the Muslims. They plunged into internecine strife, ending in his murder. The Muslims in Egypt were also divided, splitting into two groups—those who were loyal to Uthman, and the others, his opponents. Wars broke out between them, which the Egyptians suffered as they raged in the country, until the caliphate fell to Muawiya—who appointed our governors from among his followers. In general, we did not have the luck to have a ruler as gentle as Amr ibn al-As again.

  “During the governorship of Abd al-Aziz Marwan,” continued Athanasius, “there were some reforms, but he also obliged the priests to pay a one-dinar tax. After they were absolved of this duty, he levied a tax of three thousand dinars upon the patriarchate, instead.”

  “How did the priests and the patriarch react to that?” asked the Sage Ptahhotep.

  “Their reaction was a Christian one, based upon love and peace, sublime over the demands of this world.”

  “They didn’t plot a revolution, as their ancestors had against me?” wondered Akhenaten.

  “The conditions overall were good,” answered Athanasius, “if you compare them with what they were under the Byzantines. Yet we were angry when some members of our community converted to the new religion. To us, it seemed that they had blasphemed themselves for profit, in order to avoid paying the head tax on non-Muslims. They, in turn, alleged that Islam was nothing more than a Christian sect, and their embracing it was not an act of apostasy.”

  “You eased the way for them to change their original religion,” Khufu rebuked Akhenaten, “and laid the foundation for the practice of trading in beliefs.”

  “There is nothing wrong with a person changing their religion,” retorted Akhenaten, “if his principal reason for doing so is honorable and enlightened. Yet I am amazed that the Arabs were guided to my faith, when my own people had spurned it for generation after generation.”

  “I see no reason to defend this man,” offered Isis, “so long as no one is accusing him of any offense.”

  “We wish you the best possible outcome, Athanasius,” Osiris told him, “in your Christian tribunal.”

  43

  HORUS CALLED OUT, “The Master Antanash!”

  A square-built man came in, stalking in his shroud until he stood before the throne.

  Osiris invited Antanash to speak.

  “I took up the profession of scribe in Coptic due to my deep knowledge of the language,” Antanash responded. “In the vice-regency of Abdullah, brother of Caliph al-Walid ibn Abd al-Malik, it was decreed that Arabic would replace Coptic in all official documents. I was fired from my job, which was taken by a man from Homs in Syria. Our governor, I knew, took bribes—though his religion forbade it. After him came Qurrah ibn Sharik, a total despot who sometimes burst into churches to stop the prayers.”

  “What happened to the pact of Amr ibn al-As?” asked Abnum.

  “How quickly rulers forget their religion,” answered Antanash.

  “What did the people do?” followed up Abnum.

  “We were not able to mount any resistance,” admitted Antanash.

  “I’m sorry that the pharaohs were no longer in power,” said Ramesses II.

  “I’m sorry for the people in the period that you have erased from history!” barked Abnum at Ramesses II. “As for the pharaohs, the majority of them were crueler to the people than foreigners have been!”

  “I will not permit …,” Ramesses II began to reply.

  “I am the one who permits or does not permit,” Osiris interrupted him.

  For a moment, all were silent. Then Osiris turned to Antanash, “May you go with good fortune to your Christian proceeding.”

  44

  HORUS CALLED OUT, “Damyana al-Suwayfiya!”

  A woman of medium height came in, walking forward until she stood before the throne.

  Osiris asked her to speak.

  “A peasant from Beni Suef,” Damyana told them, “I became a widow with one young son. At that time, the chief tax collector was Usama ibn Yazid, infamous for his cruel and arbitrary behavior. Usama ordered that every priest wear an iron signet ring on his finger, with his name engraved upon it, that he would receive from the tax collector to prove he had paid his due. He threatened to amputate the hand of anyone who disobeyed this rule. He also imposed a fee of ten dinars upon anyone traveling by boat on the river. My financial circumstances compelled me to voyage by sailboat, and it happened that my son—who was carrying my ticket—bent down to drink, and a crocodile snatched him. They would not let me go, despite the word of eyewitnesses, and I was forced to sell all that I had with me.”

  “The religion was Islamic, and the law was Roman,” opined Ptahhotep.

  “During the age of darkness, the peasant knew only gloom, whatever the oppressor’s name, or his nationality,” fumed Abnum.

  “As the people’s patience dwindled, they grouped as revolutionaries,” Damyana resumed. “The uprising lasted until the caliph in Damascus died. Then things quieted down, in hope of a new policy.”

  “May the gods bless you for the first pleasing piece of news they’ve heard,” lauded Abnum.

  Osiris turned to her, “Let justice be your portion in your final trial.”

  45

  HORUS HERALDED, “al-Hajj Ahmad al-Minyawi!”

  A tall, strong man walked in until he stood before the throne.

  Osiris bid him speak.

  “Originally from the family of Mikhail al-Minyawi,” Ahmad said, “God guided me to Islam, so I converted. I learned the Arabic tongue, and memorized
the Noble Qur’an. Then I became a teacher, and the Lord enabled me to go on pilgrimage. In my day, Umar ibn Abd al-Aziz was caliph, one of the Right-Guided Ones among the earliest leaders of Islam. When the Copts complained about their treatment under Usama ibn Yazid, the caliph ordered his arrest and removal. Sent in shackles to the caliph, he died on the way. Usama’s place was taken by Ayyub ibn Sharhabil, who was very pious, and who compensated the Copts for what they had suffered in persecution.”

  “Why did you switch to Islam?” asked Akhenaten.

  “Belief erupts in the heart without any warning,” said al-Minyawi.

  “I believe you,” said Akhenaten, “and no one can believe you like an expert such as me. But didn’t my hymns have anything to do with your faith?”

  “Your name was unknown till a thousand years after this man’s time,” Osiris informed Akhenaten.

  “Maybe you just wanted to escape the head tax?” Khufu prodded him.

  “No—there was a military commander, Hayyan ibn Shurayh, who demanded that even those who become Muslims pay the head tax. When this reached the caliph, he ordered it to be cancelled, and that Hayyan be given twenty lashes, telling him that God sent Muhammad as a guide, not as a tax collector.”

  “May success go with you to your Muslim trial,” said Osiris.

  46

  HORUS HAILED, “Samaan al-Gargawi!”

  A muscular man walked in, then stood before the throne.

  Osiris invited him to speak.

  “A blacksmith, descended from blacksmiths,” said Samaan al-Gargawi. “At the start of the caliphate of Hisham ibn Abd al-Malik, the Copts rose up in revolt, in which I took part, losing my life in one of its skirmishes. Hanzala ibn Safwan was the governor then, a thoroughly oppressive character. He wasn’t satisfied with just taxing the people—he taxed the animals as well! For this reason, he was removed when a rebellion broke out.”