I used to be excited when a new book was published. I would look for it in the libraries in Saudi Arabia, and if it hadn’t arrived here yet I would be on the phone to friends everywhere until I got my hands on a copy, especially since I like first editions.
If I got hold of the book I would immediately bind it or wrap it and print my name on it. Then I would seclude myself somewhere, smacking my lips in anticipation — I would sit and read so much that my family thought I would end up in an insane asylum.
Perhaps they were right. That I am not wearing a straitjacket does not mean I am sane. In this terrible world things have become so mixed up that it is difficult to tell who is crazy and who isn’t.
Anyway, I am afraid to say that my love affair with books has waned. I had hoped to pass on my library to my only son — it is the only thing that I own in this world. But now I am afraid of the harm that may come to him from my books.
I used to be so careful of my books: I never lent them to anyone I didn’t think worthy. Now I am tempted to stand on street corners and beg passers-by to borrow books on condition that they don’t return them.
I have come to dread reading the weekly booklist in Asharq Al-Awsat where previously I yearned for the names of authors and the titles of books.
What happened to me?
In the footsteps of Sherlock Holmes and Sigmund Freud, I am searching for a motive behind these feelings.
Is it because books have stolen my sight and forced me to wear eyeglasses? Is it that they have bowed my head, and destroyed my bones?
Is it that books have isolated me from reality to the extent that I see the world through the eyes of Kant, Hegel, Sartre, Al Aqad and Taha Hussein and live under the illusion that theirs is the only way to understand the world — whereas Bill Gates understands better than all of them?
Is it that books have used up every penny I make?
I don’t know what to say — for I can no longer afford these new books, my eyeglasses aren’t good enough to read them nor my neck strong enough to bend over them. But perhaps the real reason is that there is nothing new in these books, and nothing changes except the names of the authors. Perhaps that is the reason. God knows better!
***
For 400 years the Arab world was a leader in the arena of knowledge and learning — then the torch was handed over to the West, which built its civilization on the basis of the knowledge of our great forefathers and is still progressing in that arena alone — while we have entered the stage of dervishes.
Historians say that the last contribution in the history of Western knowledge was in 150AD when Ptolemy wrote Almagest. After that the world entered a dark time in history only to be awaked by Jaber ibn Hayan presenting to the world the Principles of Chemistry in the year 760. Then came Al-Kindi to astound the world with his work on astronomy, medicine and mathematics. Thabit ibn Qurra then wrote about astronomy. The first millennium ends with the emergence of Ibn Al-Haytham giving the world his theory of light. Then comes Ibn Sina on medicine and philosophy, and the succession of geniuses ends with Ibn Rushd explaining and adding to Aristotle’s philosophy.
And then the door closes on 400 years of learning in medicine, chemistry, astronomy, philosophy and physics — all written in the Arabic language. And now we are saying Arabic has no room for the language of knowledge.
Libraries in Baghdad, Cairo, Granada, Damascus and Aleppo overflowed with books. Observatories, hospitals and schools were spread throughout the land.
Yet after Ibn Rushd learning and scholarship were vilified and banished from the Islamic world.
The torch of learning was handed over quite theatrically when Emperor Frederic II tightened the reigns on the Church which governed all political, economic and social matters and asked his advisers to look for new ideas to confront the Church with — thus Ibn Rushd’s work was translated and the emperor spread the persecuted Arab philosopher’s ideas. His palace became the Eastern Royal Court. As H. G. Wells puts it in “An Outline of World History,” most of the scholars and philosophers in the court were Arab Muslims. And it is thus that Europe’s journey on the road of knowledge began, continuing on to this day.
Yet we have lost the way.
Arab News Features 7 March 2003
