Once, M. A. Sheikho and his brother, General Saleem Bey, who had come from Istanbul to visit him in Damascus, were invited to attend an official festival, along with many leaders of society, officers, and wealthy gentlemen who were also present at the gathering.
The two brothers sat together, with Mohammad Amin’s son between them. Although his son was a young child of only ten years of age when he witnessed this incident, it made such an impression on him that he will never forget it.
At that time, especially on such an occasion attended by the rich, a great and famous magician, who was well known throughout the Middle East, would usually be invited to perform there. Due to his great repertoire of illusory shows and clever artifice he became widely known in Damascus although he was not of Syrian origin. The old men of our time might even remember this magician if they were to be reminded of his name, al-Hawi (or al-Gawi).
On this particular occasion, the festivities were well underway and the magician was due to arrive at any moment. As soon as the invited guests saw him, some of them asked, ‘What are you going to perform for us today, magician?’
He told them, in reply, ‘Tonight I will demonstrate something you haven’t seen before… let us start. I want each of you to take out one golden lira and hold it in your hand… close your fist as tightly as possible; then I am going to come to each of you in turn… I’ll focus my gaze on your hand and use my power to try to open it without touching it. There will be no force or touching involved… simply my own spellbinding powers. So, if I succeed, I’ll take the lira for myself. Do you agree?’
‘Yes, we do!’ most of them answered, but it must be said that a few of them were slightly sceptical and were reluctant to participate. The golden lira was a type of currency in circulation at that time which most people used, especially the wealthy, and most of the men there were very rich indeed.
They were at this gathering to enjoy themselves and to pass their time by playing and having fun: so, watching these spectacles which they knew nothing about and without understanding their secrets was the ideal distraction. The game began and one of the wealthy guests took a golden lira out of his pocket. With a certain amount of showmanship he stood up, showed the coin to the assembled company and then enclosed it tightly in his fist.
The magician then walked towards him… slowly… his eyes focused on the man’s fist, an enigmatic expression on his face, and then started his mystical motions and murmurings. It was no more than a few minutes before all present saw how the man’s hand began to open despite his struggle to keep it closed. The man had begun to tighten his fingers around the coin as strongly as he could, endeavouring to keep it closed but he failed. His hand continued to open slowly but surely, as if there were some great, unseen force exerting its strong and steady pressure.
Nevertheless, the man did not give up. He continued to resist, trying to keep his hand tightly closed. But, alas! Despite his very best efforts the matter was no longer under his control. The guests were astonished by what they had just seen, but the victim was the most bewildered of all. He knew that he had spared no effort in trying to stop his hand from opening, but all of his exertions had come to nothing, and his hand was forced open as if by a powerful unseen being. At last, he yielded to the fait accompli. The nefarious magician then stretched out his hand, took the lira and put it in his pocket as his mouth salivated at the prospect of all that he might gain from this gathering.
It was clear to see that he had won the first round, and on this day he planned to earn a lot of money through his mischievous magic and cunning artifice.
It was theft of a new kind but with a license from the audience: it was theft that had been agreed upon by the participants!
Now, it was the turn of the second challenger, but would he change his mind after seeing the previous result? He was the richest man in Damascus at that time and had many factories in various foreign countries like Turkey, Italy, France and Switzerland, so a single golden lira was as nothing to him.
He took the coin out of his pocket, put it in his fist and closed it tightly, proudly convinced that because of his impressive, muscular physique he would prove to be more than a match for the magician. He exerted every bit of his strength and tightened his hand until the knuckles turned white, the veins protruded on the back of his hand, and his muscles swelled.
As before, the magician approached the man, staring at his closed fist, and started his strange gesticulations and recitation of mystical mutterings.
Yet again, the closed hand began to open little by little as if by some force that could not be seen, but that surely did exist. This hidden force was opening the hand and overcoming the strong clenched grip of its owner. The man tightened his hand even further, calling up every last bit of his energy so that he might defeat the invisible power which was forcing his hand to open.
His face became red and his temperature certainly rose due to the great pressure he was exerting. But he couldn’t maintain it and began to tire without getting any result from his labours. So he, too, failed and his hand opened up, clearly showing the golden lira lying on his palm.
The audacious magician then took the second lira and put it in his pocket with his lips curled into the semblance of a smile that was filled with guile. His eyes were as dark as a moonless night and were sending sharp, stabbing glances around the room. Now! Who would he choose as his next victim?
Mohammad Amin was keeping a very watchful eye on the situation. He was well aware of the secret behind the magician’s tricks, due to his deep belief in God. He realised that the magician had no power except over those people who were far from observing God’s Word, and therefore deserved to be outwitted. If only those men had truly turned to God and sought His Protection, the consorts of the devil would have fled the scene without affecting their spirits. They would not have been able to disable them by making them lose control of the power and strength of their own bodies, nor would they have been capable of enabling the devil’s brother, the magician, to take the golden coins from their hands, their very own hands which were no longer under their control.
Before the third man could put his hand in his pocket and get caught up in the wiles of this artful thief, as had happened with his friends, and before the magician could continue his fraudulent round of all those present, Mohammad Amin acted. He was far from happy to let that nefarious magician carry on as this was an act that would be disapproved of by anyone who had a free conscience. He turned towards the magician and said to him, ‘Come on! I accept your challenge. Come here! I want a turn to face up to you.’
The magician then left the person whose turn it was and made his way towards Mohammad Amin, swaggering proudly in front of all those present. The magician did not doubt for a single moment that he would repeat his success as he thought that there were no true believers in existence at that time.
He stood in front of Mohammad Amin who addressed him, saying: ‘I accept your challenge on one condition: if you can open my hand and take the lira, I will give you ten more liras in addition to that one, but if you cannot, I want you to stop what you’re doing, as this magic causes you nothing but further spiritual destruction.’
‘Do you agree?’
With full confidence, the magician accepted, as his insatiable greed for the eleven golden liras had blinded his heart to all else. He could think of nothing except for the great profit he would make that day, for he knew that it would usually take many months to collect such a sum through his quackery.
General Saleem, Mohammad Amin’s brother, was surprised at what his brother offered the magician. He had seen what had happened with the two men who were duped before him, so he thought that his brother would definitely lose eleven golden liras instead of only one.
So, why did he decide to get caught up in this game?
What for? What was wrong with him?
Trying to dissuade his brother from this course of action, he nudged him lightly and secretly expressed his advice to him with a certain look, as if he had said, ‘Stop! What’s the matter with you? Why would you want to throw away eleven golden liras?’
Salah al-Din, Mohammad Amin’s son, who was still sitting between his father and his uncle, noticed his uncle’s gestures of admonishment towards his father and his attempts to turn him away from this challenge.
Yet Amin paid no attention to his brother, and he took out his lira.
Failing to deter his brother General Saleem paused in his efforts and remained quiet and still, and then began to watch as his brother placed the lira on the palm of his hand and closed his fist over it as the other men had done… but the difference was that he exerted no particular force.
The magician drew close and stood facing him, and then started his attack with his motions and murmurs.
How strange… nothing happened!
The hand before him was still closed in the normal way and clearly not too tightly yet all the while the magician was still murmuring and making different signs with his hands. The magician persisted for quite some time, but still nothing changed. He tried and tried, murmuring, gesticulating, and making more and different motions with his hands… but it was all in vain!
Indeed, nothing had changed! Although about twenty minutes had passed, the magician did not despair. He did his utmost until eventually he became tired and frustrated at his lack of success. The magician had used all his so-called knowledge and skills but, this time he did not succeed!
What the boy Salah al-Din saw, and still remembers until this day, was that the magician was sweating with the great effort, and his disgusting, stinking sweat glistened all over his face, and then began to drip from his loathsome chin… drop by stinking drop.
Suddenly, the magician’s shifty gaze went towards the window and then to the door and flickered back and forth between them as if he was calling for outside help or support!
Whose help was he seeking?
Who was he calling upon for support?
At this point his behaviour became very odd indeed: he began to mutter some strange and obscure words in a most confused fashion, and his movements became erratic. It seemed as if fear had filled his heart and he was totally overcome by it.
But M. A. Sheikho remained in front of him, his hand still closed gently around the golden lira, a gentle smile playing on his lips. He sat there, full of calm satisfaction: his face bright and shining and displaying complete confidence that he had thwarted the sorcerer.
The situation had become unbearable for the magician, so he seemed to erupt and began to shout in a most irregular voice as if he had entered a struggle to the death. He started yelling at Mohammad Amin, ‘You, Bey! A secret power must be helping you!’
‘It is none but Al’lah!’ he replied in a voice more forceful and distinct than the magician’s, that struck him and all those present as if it were the sound of rumbling thunder.
‘I hold the Name of Al’lah!’
Those words rattled around the room and echoed from the walls… the ensuing silence was profound and mingled with the astonishment and stupefaction, which had overcome all those present. Yet there was also a strange and unusual feeling of delighted relief and happiness.
Actually, the magician had failed and what an outstanding failure it was!
He was overcome with angry emotions: he was agitated, hot and bothered, enraged; and what had he gained?… nothing but two liras and total stress.
Yes, he had definitely lost that round!
When he heard the words of Mohammad Amin – which had blasted his ears and uncovered his depravity and deceit – he uttered not a single word more. Then he walked out of the place, leaving it with his spirit debased, dragging behind him the remnants of his failure and huge defeat. He was reeling, his steps faltering, his head bowed in shame. But a certain thought was growing in his mind: ‘That man seems to have a strange secret. He really is a true believer.’ And that thought remained uppermost in his mind for quite some time!
Some time later, a similar gathering took place in a wonderful park in a suburb of Damascus: at Abu Shafeek Park on al-Rabwa hill. Again, many rich and important men were invited to attend the celebration, and once more our virtuous man M. A. Sheikho was one of those present.
So it was that when the magician arrived there to practise his quackery and sorcery, he was surprised to see our compassionate scholar, and so his villainy and duplicity were immediately defeated in the face of the truth. He was exasperated as he realised he would not be able to perform his tricks and magic that day, so he adopted a humble attitude when he saw Mohammad Amin.
In a begging and lowly manner he approached him and in a pleading voice said, ‘Oh Bey! Please, for the sake of your beloved Al’lah! Please… Let me work… Let me earn my livelihood today… oh Bey! Look at all the guests, one by one: do you see a single iota of goodness in any one of them? All of them are far from God, and the devil is their companion… please, leave me alone so I can earn my living.’ It was clear that the magician wanted him to leave the place so that he would be able to control the men there with his magic.
However, Mohammad Amin paid him no attention at all, and as he looked at those present, he felt that all of them wanted the magician to stay. They wanted to laugh, to have fun and to enjoy his magical machinations. He said to himself, ‘Since they all want the magician to perform, I’ll leave them to it… it’s their own business.’
Thereafter, whenever the magician came across our righteous, compassionate officer he knew that this meant failure for him, so either he walked away from him or approached him humbly, grovelling and begging that he should be allowed to earn his dubious living.
In his wisdom Mohammad Amin left the magician and his audience alone as religion should never be used to force anyone against their will.
The End
Praise is to God, the Provider of the worlds