The Solace of Salah al-Din (صلاح الدين يوسف ابن أيوب‎)

July 1, 2008 at 6:38 pm (Damascus, Saladin, Salah al-Din, Syria, memories)

It has been years since I visited the shrine of Salah al-Din, the great Sultan of the Ayyubid dynasty – currently made famous in the West by the film “Kingdom of Heaven”. In the East, Syria in particular, he has always been a hero. His memory is larger than life. Many, who feel hopeless in today’s conflicts, have prayed for a leader with the wisdom and strength of conviction of Salah al-Din to lead them out of hardship. As a child, I was in awe of his statue which looms larger than life outside of the citadel, not far from the tomb. I also remember visiting his tomb numerous times as a child and a teenager. None of these visits, however, held the magic or sombreness that my recent visit did. Perhaps now I have more of an appreciation of who he was and what he accomplished. Or perhaps it was because I was alone in the tomb – a feat which is almost unheard of – that I was able to absorb fully my surroundings.

The tomb, on the surface, is nothing more than a tomb. Its construction is a combination of stone, metal, glass, and wood, illuminated by small windows and fluorescent lights. The wooden crypt, draped in a shroud, stands, almost humbly, next to its German, marble counterpart. But as I entered the mausoleum, every inch of my body was covered in goose bumps. The idea that the great Salah al-Din’s remains were before me, was almost overwhelming. This was as close as I could possibly ever come to the man, which was closer than many had a chance to get – maybe even closer than those warriors who fought in his armies. But it wasn’t as though I could observe his chivalrous actions, or listen to his wise words – my only real reference were the stories I’d read of him, the words from which now fed my imagination and filled my soul with such delight.

As I stood motionless in front of his sarcophagus, I tried to imagine what he would think of today’s world. Many thoughts crossed my mind. But in the end, I thought if he were standing next to me, he would likely look at me with his intense, dark eyes, and smile softly. Then, before I could utter a word he would say something far more astute than I could ever conceive. That daydream ended abruptly in the kind of tears that well out of frustration and then gently caress the cheeks in streams of sadness. When I finally became aware that my frequent sniffing sounds were echoing in the chamber, I felt ashamed. I was glad that no one was there to hear me snivelling like a child. I wiped my face with a tissue and placed my hand on the wooden frame of his crypt. The words “Remember who you are.” filled my head.

I exited the building with my chin held high and a renewed sense of purpose. This, the need to recapture my sense of self, was entirely the reason I’d returned home. A visit to the great Salah al-Din proved to bring me one step closer to my goal – that little nudge to keep going – something I was not really expecting when I set out earlier that day. I walked by the citadel and stood for a while longer at the base of his statue and smiled up at him. Allah yirhamu – God rest his soul.

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