Al Mutanabbi, the Would-be Prophet

A statue of Al Mutanabbi.

By Adhid Miri, PhD

‎“الخيل والليل والبيداء تعرفني...والسيف والرمح والقرطاس والقلمُ”

“The steeds, the nights, and the desert know me, so does the sword, the spear, the literature, and the pen.”

– Al Mutanabbi

Poetry is a form of art much like painting, calligraphy, composing, or playing a musical instrument. Discovering poetry is an adventure to a world of wonder led by intuition and imagination, arriving at a love of words. For those who choose to explore this medium, it is a beautiful personal journey of the mind and soul.

Many modern writers in the Arab world began their literary careers by practicing poetry. Arab poets compose in various forms, capturing the essence of their generation. It’s difficult to determine the “most beautiful” Arabic poem, as beauty is subjective; however, many renowned poems are widely celebrated for their decorative language and ability to stir the soul. Some of the most famous Arabic poets include Imru’ al-Qais (501-565), Al-Khansa (575-645), Abu Nuwas (756-814), Abu al-Alaa al-Maarri (973-1057), Abu Firas al-Hamdani (932–968), and Al Mutanabbi (915-965).

Al Mutanabbi is recognized as one of the most prominent poets of the Arabic language. His body of work, more than 326 poems, is so influential that much of it has been translated into over 20 languages worldwide.

Born Ahmed bin al-Hussein al-Kindi in Kufa, Iraq in the early 10th century, Al Mutanabbi came from humble beginnings. His father was a water carrier from the Kindah tribe. Little Ahmed was writing poems at the age of nine, and when Shi’ite Qarmatians attacked Kufa in 924 AD, he chose to join them. He lived among the Bedouins, a nomadic Arab tribe, researching their doctrines and texts. He told them he was a prophet, earning the nickname by which he would go down in history—Al Mutanabbi, which translates as “he who would be a prophet” or “the would-be prophet.”

In 932, while still in his teens, Al Mutanabbi used his status to lead a revolt in Syria. After being imprisoned for 2 years, he decided to cast his lot as a traveling poet. He was quick-witted, and on one occasion when someone wanting to embarrass him said, “I saw you from afar, so I thought you were a woman,” Al Mutanabbi cheekily replied, “I saw you from afar, and thought you were a man!”

Many of his poems are not only still widely read in today’s Arab world but are considered to be proverbial. You may be familiar with some of quotes, such as “If you see the lion show his teeth, do not think the lion is smiling at you,” or “If you venture for a noble aim, do not settle for less than the stars.”

Some poems are less instructive and more descriptive, like “Small deeds are great in small men’s eyes; great deeds, in great men’s eyes, are small.” And some are observational: “Firm resolutions happen in proportion to the resolute, and noble deeds come in proportion to the noble.”

Al Mutanabbi lived during the Abbasid Caliphate period, when a wandering poet with political aspirations could make a name for himself. His writing revolved around descriptions of life, the kings he met, and his own philosophy. He never rested in one place, traveling to Baghdad, Damascus, Tiberias, Antioch, Aleppo, and Cairo among others, earning income from emirs for his poetic praise for them.

Al Mutanabbi enjoyed the best and most rewarding days of his life in Aleppo, in the court of Sayf al-Dawla al-Hamdani, a Hamdanid poet-prince of northern Syria – composing panegyrics, or odes to his liege. These are considered the masterpieces which have earned him recognition all over the Arab world. His poems and sayings have become proverbs, part of the daily vocabulary of Arabic conversation today.

It was during his time in Aleppo that Al Mutanabbi wrote one of his most famous poems, “Ode to Sayf al-Dawla.” Al Mutanabbi stayed in the prince’s court for 9 years, from 948 to 957, earning not only fame and fortune but also the animosity of rival court poets, including the prince’s own cousin. In addition, the prince became weary of Al Mutanabbi’s political goal to become a regional Wali, or governor. The prince saw this as a threat and betrayal, and the poet left Syria for Egypt.

In Egypt, Al Mutanabbi joined the court of Abu al-Misk Kafur. Kafur, however, mistrusted Al Mutanabbi’s political ambitions, believing them to be a threat to his position. Al Mutanabbi realized that his hopes of becoming governor were not going anywhere and he left Egypt in 960. After he left, he heavily criticized Abu al-Misk Kafur with satirical odes.

For over a thousand years, the poetry of Al Mutanabbi has been used in Arabic literature as a reference and proof of his wisdom, intelligence, pride, and insight. His poetry has strong words, and his verses have a certain sophistication.

Through his artistry, he mastered Arabic verse like no other and treated poetry as a craft to be studied and taught. Many of his verses are used today as proverbs to reflect on life experiences of friendship, love, departure, war, and death.

Al Mutanabbi himself died in 965, a victim of a vengeance. He was traveling from Ahvaz in modern-day Iran to Basra when he was set upon by Dabbah al-Assadi. Al-Assadi was following the poet in a blind rage, insulted by an unflattering poem that Al Mutanabbi had written about him.

At first, Al Mutanabbi was going to flee with his son, Muhassad; however, one of his servants reminded him of his courageous poems and at that moment, Al Mutanabbi decided to fight with conviction for his beliefs. He fought valiantly but died with his son by his side. His influence at the time was such that news of his death reverberated like thunder around the Muslim world.

In honor of him, in 1932, the people of Baghdad named a cultural market Mutanabbi Street. The narrow one-kilometer-long auto-free street is full of booksellers and bookstores. At the entrance to the street stands an arch adorned with the poet’s quotes. Over time, Mutanabbi Street evolved into a symbol of intellectual freedom, attracting writers, artists, and diverse dissenting voices from across the country.

On that street also stands a statue of the great poet created by the renowned Iraqi sculptor, Mohammad Ghani Hikmat. Created in the 1960s, it will stand strong just as Mutanabbi’s poems stay timeless.

We live between two historic eras — the time of steeds, nights, and desert and the time of WhatsApp, Facebook, and Google. As a lover of language and disciple of the greatest Arab poet who ever lived, I wish that time could go back centuries, that I could travel backward in time and spend a day around this remarkable man, sit in his audience, hear the tone of his voice, or walk as a shadow in his giant steps.