Al Andalus :: Kamal Hassan

Written by Prof. Kamal Hassan (Ex-Rector of IIUM)

O Iqbal!

The spring of 2002 beckoned my soul and body:

to witness the Muslim remains of Alhambra,

Cordoba and Sevilla,

To retrace your noble steps and feel the

vibrations of your ecstasy,

to feast my aging vision on the haunting 
grandeur of Alhambra and

relish the matchless beauty of

the Moorish art…

 I glided through the cold ruins, searching for

 the secrets of the humiliating

 downfall of Al-Andalus…

 The flowing fountains of Jannatul-Arif

 (Generalife) continue to narrate the

 melancholy of Muslim follies…

 How they succumbed to the same diseases

 which brought down the mighty

 Roman empire.

They wrote all over Al-Andalus La Ghaliba

 Illa'LLah (There is no vanquisher except Allah.)

 But they began to worship the mata'ad-dunya (pleasures of the world),

 and traded their souls for gold, glory, women

 and wine,

 only to end like stray donkeys, kicked around by

 the boots of Ferdinand and Isabella.

Today, pigeons nestle and make love in the ruins,

 and their droppings strewn all over the walls,

 Western tourists pour out of buses and planes,

 frolicking in romance, obliterating all pain,

 while Muslim architectural glory continues to boost

 the coffers of Catholic Spain.

I stood, O Iqbal,

 On the hill of Alhambra, " a stranger, gazing at

 things gone by, dreams of another age."

O Iqbal!

 Don't turn in grave if I tell you

 that the Muslim world is the champion

 today in corruption and illiteracy.

 Or, that our rulers are among the smartest in deceiving

 the masses,

 Having mastered the art form of Machiavelli's Prince.

 Or, that some of our elites

 are the greatest drinkers of the wine,

 Intoxicated, they try to sell cheap

 version of their stores,

 Beguiling the local youth as they deconstruct

 the blessed Zam-Zam to make it taste like beer and wine,

 And succeeding in making the young worship celebrities

 as divine.

Or that the Muslim Malay community

 excels in fitnah memfitnah,

 pouring the poison of hatred

 where love once stood.

 

O Iqbal!

 Where is the mahabbah, the rahmah

 that forges the bonds of love and salam?

 Where is the hidayah that destroy insincerity,

 hypocrisy and greed?

 Where is the taqwa that

 imbues thought and action with righteousness?

 Can the Khayru Ummatin ever emerge

 from robots, rubbles and bubbles? 

 

[This poem was written after his visit to spain in 2002]