21/10/2026
Share:
21/10/2026
Share:
Decades after his betrayal, a woman confronted him in the street and asked, “Is this the stature you once enjoyed under the Abbasids?” In 656 AH, the city of Baghdad was protected by a formidable force of 100,000 cavalrymen. However, the vizier Mu’ayyad al-Din ibn al-Alqami al-Asadi secretly carried out one of the most notorious acts of treason in history. Through deceptive tactics disguised as fiscal austerity, he persuaded Caliph al-Musta’sim billah to reduce military spending and cut soldiers’ wages, leading to the dismantling of much of the army. As the troops dispersed, only 10,000 soldiers remained to defend the capital when catastrophe struck.
In 656 AH, Baghdad was defended by a formidable cavalry force of 100,000 men. Yet the grand vizier, Mu’ayyad al-Din ibn al-Alqami al-Asadi, secretly orchestrated what would become one of the most infamous acts of treachery in the nation’s history. By persuading the Caliph to reduce troop numbers in the name of cutting state expenses, he slashed military salaries and weakened the army, leaving only 10,000 men to defend Baghdad. He then secretly sent correspondence to Hulagu, revealing that Baghdad’s defenses had been compromised and its gates left unprotected. When the Mongol forces arrived, he deceived the Caliph into leaving the city under the pretext of negotiating a peace treaty and arranging a dynastic marriage. The Caliph was accompanied by 700 prominent dignitaries and scholars, all of whom were mercilessly slaughtered by the Mongols. With the fall of Baghdad, the legendary library of the House of Wisdom (Bayt al-Hikmah) was said to have been set ablaze. The waters of the Tigris ran black with the ink of destroyed manuscripts before turning red with the blood of the slain. In return for his betrayal, Ibn al-Alqami received only humiliation and contempt from the Mongol conquerors. As he rode through the ruined streets of Baghdad, a local woman, witnessing his pitiful state, called out in scornful mockery, “Is this the stature you once enjoyed under the Abbasids?” A few months later, the traitor died in shame and sorrow, leaving behind a lasting reminder that treason can ultimately destroy the traitor himself.
During the era of British colonial rule in India, a dispute arose between a poor Indian man and a British officer. The officer raised his hand and slapped the man in public. Rather than backing down, the Indian man struck him back with such force that the officer fell to the ground. Stunned, the Briton struggled to comprehend how a poor man could dare to strike an officer of the British Empire’s army. He hurried back to his commander, reported the incident, and demanded that the man be punished. Contrary to his expectations, the commander did not become angry. Instead, he smiled calmly, opened a safe filled with money, took out a sum, and said, “Take these 50,000 rupees, go to the man, apologize to him, and give him the money.” The officer was outraged. “Apologize to him?” he exclaimed. “He insulted the British Army and me!” The commander replied firmly, “This is a military order. Carry it out without further discussion.”
The officer approached the man, offered an apology, and handed him the money - a sum that represented a considerable fortune at the time. The man’s life changed completely. Yet he failed to realize that, by accepting the money, he had effectively suffered another slap on his own homeland’s soil, and had surrendered his dignity. He bought a house and invested the remainder of his money in business. His enterprises flourished, and he eventually became a wealthy man, surrounded by servants and guards. Years passed, until one day the commander summoned the same officer and asked, “Do you remember the Indian man who slapped you?” “Of course,” the officer replied. “How could I ever forget?” The commander said, “Go to him now, and strike him in front of everyone.” The officer hesitated. “Sir,” he said, “back then, he was poor and alone—yet he still returned the blow and knocked me to the ground. Today, he is a wealthy man, surrounded by his own men and guards; he might even kill me if I try to strike him.”
As the story goes, a sultan encountered an ordinary man, whom others regarded as a madman, sleeping in a graveyard. When the sultan awakened him, the man reacted with visible irritation, exclaiming, “You have completely ruined everything for me!” Astonished, the sultan asked, “What is it that I have ruined?” The man explained, “In my dream, I was a sultan with grand palaces and immense wealth, answerable to no one. When you woke me, everything I owned vanished in an instant, leaving me with nothing.” With a smile, the sultan remarked, “My good man, can anyone truly claim ownership of what appears in a dream? It is merely a passing illusion, and a wise person does not mourn when a dream dissolves.” Smiling in return, the man, dismissed by others as mad, offered a profound reply, “How, then, do we truly differ? My dream ended when I opened my eyes; yours will end the moment you close yours.” Existence itself resembles a brief dream. It takes a different form for each individual, yet the outcome remains the same for all. When we awaken, nothing remains but the actions we have taken and the truths our souls carry with them.
