Political Humor in Ibn Mammātī's Kitāb al-Fāshūsh fi Aḥkām Qarâqûsh (The Decisions of Qarâqûsh)

1.1 Authors and manuscripts

Kitāb al-Fāshūsh fi Aḥkām Qarâqûsh (stupidity, or the decisions of Qarâqûsh) is believed to be authored by three writers (Casanova, 1893; Shaʿlān 2012). The original author is al-Qādī al-As’ad Abū’l-Makārim As’ad ibn al-Khatīr Abī Sa’id Mūhadhab ibn Mīnā ibn Zakarīya ibn Abī Qūdāma ibn Abī’l-Malīḥ Mammātī al-Miṣrī (native of Egypt) (Ibn Khallikān 1842: 192). The book is written as a pamphlet to be submitted to Salāḥ ad-Dīn Yūsuf ibn Ayyūb known as Saladin (1137–March 1193) against his deputy in Egypt Qarâqûsh Ibn ‘Abd Allāh al-Asadī, surnamed Bah'āaddīn (splendor of religion) (n.d.–April 1201). The second author, on the other hand, is Abū al-Faḍl ‘Abd al-Raḥmān ibn Abī Bakr ibn Muḥammad Jalāl al-Dīn al-Khuḍayrī al-Suyūṭī (1445–1505). He has written another pamphlet to answer his students’ questions about the story of emir Bah’āaddīn Qarâqûsh and to examine the historical validity of these stories and whether they are historically true or pure fiction. The final version is entitled “Al-ṭarz Al-manqūsh fi Ḥukm al Sultān Qarâqûsh” by ‘Abd al-Salām Al-Malky (1564–1668 AD).

There is consensus among scholars that al-Fāshūsh is originally authored by Ibn Mammātī (Ibn Khallikān 1842: 520), and after approximately 300 years, the text has been recollected and rewritten again by Al-Suyūṭī to suit his student’s purposes at Ibn Tulun Mosque in Cairo as he states in his introduction to the book (Al-Suyūṭī 194 Majāmīʿ Raṣīd: 33b–34a). This means that Ibn Mammātī’s stories have been circulated so widely to the point of arousing the curiosity of serious students and scholars in Egypt after 300 years. The colloquial nature of the text might support the idea that these stories have been orally transmitted from one generation to the next and many stories might have been added as well. As a serious scholar, Al-Suyūṭī has endeavored to collect these stories and codify them in the form of a pamphlet and he has not imagined that his small project will spread like wildfire in the form of so many pamphlets in the Arab and the Muslim world. So far the manuscripts are still wrongly ascribed to al-Suyūṭī and not to their original writer.

There are many theories about the original manuscript which has been written by Ibn Mammātī, the real author. Some Arab scholars believe that such a copy has never existed (Alshāl 2000: 12–3). Other scholars, on the other hand, believe that the original manuscript is lost (Ḥamzah 2000: 142–3). However, there is an extract from this manuscript quoted by Paul Casanova (1893: 468–72) in his pioneering study on Qarâqûsh under the title of “extraits d’ un manuscrits de la Bibliothèque Khédiviale du Caire.” Abdulatif Ḥamzah has quoted and used all the anecdotes in this study in his books (Ḥamzah, 1945, 1951, 2000) without looking for the original manuscript itself. This practice made other writers like ʿAzzām (1999) and Shaʿlān (2012) to doubt the manuscript’s very existence. I have found almost the same manuscript in Dār al-Kutub al-Miṣriyyah (The Egyptian National Library) which is originally called Khedivial Books House in 1870 amid some collected epistles written by al-Suyūṭī under the title 59 Majāmīʿ Raṣīd as it contains all the anecdotes which have been quoted before by Casanova himself. The mere existence of this historical manuscript today refutes the claims of the previous authors and authenticates Paul Casanova’s version of the stories. However, I think the final decision of attributing this version directly to ibn Mammātī needs more serious investigation.

This chaotic situation might raise a number of questions like why do we have such a big number of pamphlets? The majority of the stories are similar in plot, but why do we have some crucial differences in the language of narration? I think answers to these questions might be related to the nature and development of this folk narrative. Marzolph (1999: 165) asserts that:

Probably one of the most important steps in the development of folk narrative research in the twentieth century was the growing awareness of a continuous correlation between oral and written tradition. Oral tradition at the same time both draws from written sources as well as inspires further written production. Seen from the opposite perspective, written tradition exploits the oral while it also serves as a mine of material for reproduction in the oral. Written tradition appears to be the more durable partner of the reciprocally dependent twins, while oral tradition is the more spontaneous one.

I believe that the overflow of pamphlets which has led to this chaotic situation is related in one way or another to “the correlation between oral and written tradition.” In other words, the give and take relationship between the oral and the written is a decisive answer to my previous questions. I think the original manuscript has been greatly influenced by the oral tradition, and many stories have been added to it as well. Also, the written manuscript has influenced the oral tradition by feeding the imagination of people and driving them to invent and create more stories. The result will inevitably be many pamphlets and different versions and narrations of the same stories, which are “natural” for stories belonging to oral tradition and for popular literature.

1.2 Qarâqûsh and Ibn Mammātī

Ibn Mammātī was a prolific writer, a distinguished poet and a historian. He was born in Cairo around 1149 AD, and was the third in a line of highly placed government officials descended from a Coptic family originally from Asyūt in Upper Egypt. His grandfather Abī’l-Malīḥ was the highest official in Egypt despite the fact that he was a Christian (Cooper 1974: 9). He worked under the commander of the armies Badr al-Jamālī, the vizir to the Fatimid caliph Mustanṣir (1036–1094), and he was well-known for his generosity and highly praised by the poets of his time. Abī’l-Malīḥ was succeeded in the Dīwān al-jaysh by his son Mūhadhab known as al-khātir. When Shīrkūh seized control of the country, as vizier for the last Fatimid caliph, Mūhadhab with his sons converted to Islam. Mūhadhab occupied his position until his death in 1182. As’ad ibn Mammātī inherited his father’s position and he made use of his friendship with influential men like Al-Qāḍī al-Fāḍil who described ibn Mammātī as “bulbul al-majlis” (the nightingale of the council), because of his wit and eloquence (Cooper 1974: 10). During the reign of Salāḥ ad-Dīn (1169–1193) and his son al-Malik al-ʿAziz (1193–1198), ibn Mammātī was in charge of Dīwān al-mal in addition to Dīwān al-jaysh. His influence and power were consolidated when he occupied the position of Nāẓir al-dawāwīn, an inspector of all the Dīwāns who has the authority to supervise, observe, and revise all the actions of all the Dīwāns or ministries. Ibn Mammātī’s new position qualified him to challenge and oppose the appointment of Qarâqûsh as regent to al-Malik Al-Manṣūr (Cooper 1974: 9–10). However, when his colleague and rival Ṣafi al-Dīn ibn Shukr was elevated to the vizierate during the reign of al-Malik al- ʿAdil (1200–1218), he confiscated all his properties and he was forced to flee to Aleppo. Ibn Mammātī remained in that city until he died, on Sunday the 30th of the first Jumada, A. H. 606 (November, A. D. 1209), aged 62 (Ibn Khallikān 1842: 195).

Qarâqûsh, on the other hand, was one of the foreign elements in the new Ayyubid state. In Arabic, the meaning of the Turkish name Qarâqûsh is “black eagle” (Ibn Khallikān 1842: 521). Emir Qarâqûsh Ibn ʿAbd Allāh al-Asadī (client of Asad ad-dīn), surnamed Bahʾāaddīn (splendor of religion), was a slave to Salāḥ ad-Dīn, or, by another account, to that prince’s uncle, Asad ad-dīn Shirkuh, from whom he received his liberty. When Salāḥ ad-Dīn established his dominion in Egypt, he appointed him in many positions like chamberlain for the royal family, his deputy in Egypt, and his most important advisor. He was sent by Salāḥ ad-Dīn to defend and fortify “Akka,” but he fell a slave to the Franks in 1191. Salāḥ ad-Dīn paid 10,000 dinars for his ransom (Ibn Khallikān 1842: 520–1). Qarâqûsh was well-known as a famous builder. He built the wall that surrounds Old and New Cairo; he built Galat al-Jabal (the Citadel of Cairo) and the bridge of Gizeh. In addition to his famous buildings and engineering designs, “his name was perpetuated by a quarter of Cairo, Hârat Qarâqûsh, situated outside the Futuh Gate” (Margoliouth 1907: 51–2). Qarâqûsh joined the service of Salāḥ ad-Dīn’s son al-Malik al-ʿAziz, and after his death, he was selected to be a regent for his son al-Manṣūr. Qarâqûsh held this post for a short time as the majority of Amirs and the head of the chancellery, Ibn Mammātī, declared him unfit to occupy this position due to his old age. Therefore, al-Manṣūr’s uncle al-Malik al-Afḍal took over the regenancy. Finally, Sultan al-ʿĀdil seized the throne in 596 (1200). Qarâqûsh died in Cairo, on the 1st of Rajab, A.H. 597 (April, AD 1201), and was interred at the foot of Mount Mukattam in the funeral chapel which bears his name (Ibn Khallikān 1842: 521).

Qarâqûsh was also well-known as a tough soldier and a strict leader. In his famous Biographical Dictionary volume II, Ibn Khallikān described him as “a man of lofty spirit.” However, his firmness and sometimes “severity” gained him some enemies. For instance, Ibn Mammātī wrote a pamphlet called Kitāb al-Fāshūsh fi Aḥkām Qarâqûsh (Book on the stupidity of the judgments of Qarâqûsh) (Dadoyean 1997: 173). Ibn Khallikān asserted that:

A number of extraordinary decisions are attributed to Qarâqûsh, as having been pronounced by him during his administration; nay, things have gone so far that al-Asaad Ibn Mammati composed a small volume under the title of Kitāb al-Fāshūsh fi Aḥkām Qarâqûsh (stupidity, or the decisions of Qarâqûsh) and containing things which it is highly improbable that such a man as Qarâqûsh could have said or done. They are manifestly mere inventions, for Salah ad-din would not have confided to him the affairs of the empire unless he had an entire confidence in his knowledge and abilities. (Ibn Khallikān vol. 2, 1842: 520)

Some scholars believe that there might be some kind of political rivalry between Ibn Mammātī and Qarâqûsh. It was historically well-known that Ibn Mammātī was one of the first who opposed Qarâqûsh’s guardianship of al-Manṣūr on account of his advanced age (Cooper 1974: 11). This might be the reason behind his attempt to write Kitāb al-Fāshūsh fi Aḥkām Qarâqûsh; he used the book as propaganda to sway the public opinion against him. In this way, Qarâqûsh would appear like an unworthy, incompetent, and unfit character to be entrusted with a guardianship. He used exaggeration to portray him as a comically distorted character or as a caricature. This kind of excessive and unreal exaggeration revealed hatred and animosity toward that man because of his fame, honorable, and glorious history (Saʿd 1990: 30).

The study tries to adopt a balanced approach toward the analysis of Qarâqûsh’s character. It has nothing to do with evaluating, defending, or condemning the character from a historical perspective, an approach that has exhausted many Arab scholars; it is an attempt to investigate the humorous elements in the document in order to understand the different impacts and mechanics of humor. I believe that Qarâqûsh was a Coriolanus-like character. The man was simply a rough soldier and the time was a time of war. It was likely that Qarâqûsh might have made some mistakes against the common Egyptian people during his rule. Ibn Mammātī was able to penetrate his character, identify his weaknesses, and targeted them. Ibn Mammātī grabbed the opportunity to magnify these mistakes in his pamphlet and he injected it with a powerful combination of wit and humor. The result was amazing! I think he was successful because of the nature of the Egyptian people themselves who suffered the pressures of so many foreign regimes for centuries and who used humor as a defense mechanism and sometimes as a way of protest. The book is well received and is so popular that it has survived for centuries and many stories have been added and many versions of the book have been found. The Egyptian people have turned Qarâqûsh into a mythical figure that represents and symbolizes all the smugness, severity, and injustice of foreign rulers.

4.1 Dimension 1 description

The first dimension in Fairclough’s model includes “description” and depends on “textual” analysis and traditional linguistic tools (such as vocabulary, grammar, syntax, and sentence coherence). This part investigates crucial textual elements in the discourse such as interactional control, wording, grammar, and modality (Fairclough 1992b: 152ff). In the first anecdote, there are three main characters: Qarâqûsh (the vizier), a black woman (the lady), and the white woman (a Turkish slave). The Turkish slave has, in one way or another, violated the normal codes of behavior at that time and misbehaved with her lady. In order to maintain discipline, the Hejazi woman went to Qarâqûsh who was supposed to be the protector of the country and the maintainer of law, order, and justice. According to the first anecdote, for instance,

الحكاية الأولى

جاءته امرأة سوداء لها جارية تركية بيضاء فقالت له: يا وزير ﺇن هذه جاريتى قد أساءت على الأدب فأدبها، فنظر ﺇلى بياض الجارية التركية وسواد المرأة، ثم قال لها: أولك خلق الله تعالى جارية تركية بيضاء و أنت جارية سوداء، ما يقول ذلك ﺇلا مجنون أو مدهوش أفلا تكون هذه البيضاء جارية لك يا سوداء. يا غلمان اجعلوا هذه التركية البيضاء سيدة لهذه السوداء، و السوداء جارية للتركية، فإن أرادت بيعك باعتك أو أعتقتك، فقالت السوداء: أما انصفت يا وزير ؟! فقال: هكذا يكون اﻹنصاف وما أنا مجنون و لا مدهوش ، انصرفى عنى يا سوداء يا قبيحة المنظر لا خير فى الأسود ولو كان فى المسك والعسل. فلما رأت السوداء ذلك الحكم الذى لا مفر عنه أخذت تتعطف بخاطر البيضاء التركية وتقول لها: أعتقينى ﺇلى وجه الله تعالى وأنا أعطيك كذا وكذا ولا أشتكيكي أصلا، فقالت له التركية: ﺇنى قد أعتقت جاريتى السوداء، فقال جزاك الله خيرا انصرفى عنى بجاريتك ولا تعودى ثانيا. (السيوطى ، 1311 هجرى: 3-4)

Al-ḥikāya al-Aulā

Jāʾathū Iymrā sawdāʾ lahā jāriya turkiya baiḍāʾ faqālt lahū: yā wazir Ina hadhī jāriyati qad ʾasāʾt ʿaliya aladab fadibha, fanaẓara ilā bayaḍ al-jāriya al-turkiya wa sawad al-marā, thuma qāl lahā: awalaki khalaq Allāhu taʿāla jāriyata turkiya baiḍāʾ waʾanti jāriyata sawdāʾ, ma yaqul dhalika ilā majnun ʾaw madhūsh ʾaflā takun hadhi al-baiḍāʾ jāriya laki yā sawdāʾ. Yā ghulmān ijʿalū hadhi al-turkiya al-baiḍāʾ sayyidah lhadhi al-sawdāʾ, wa al-sawdāʾ jāriyata lil-turkiya, fin arādat bayʿaki baʿatki ʾaw ʾaʿtaqtki, faqalt al-sawdāʾ: ʾamā ʾanṣaft yā wazir?! Faqāl: hakadhā yakun alinṣaf wamā anā majnun walā madhūsh, inṣarfi ʿani yā sawdāʾ yā qabiḥat almanzar lā khiyr fi alʾasawd walau kān fi almisk wa alʿasl. Falamā rʾat al-sawdāʾ dhalik alḥukm aladhi lā mafar ʿanhū ʾakhdhat tataʿaṭaf bikhaṭr al-baiḍāʾ al-turkiya wataqūl lahā: ʾaʿtiqini ilā wajh Allāh taʿala wʾana ʾauʿṭyaki kadhā wa kadhā wala ʾashtakiki ʾaṣlā, faqālt lahū al-turkiya: iny qad ʾaʿtaqt jāriyati al-sawdāʾ, faqāl jazaki Allāhu khirā inṣarfi ʿani bi jāriyatik walā taʿūdi thānia. (al-Suyūṭī, 1311 AH: 3–4)

First Anecdote

A black woman went with her white Turkish slave to Qarâqûsh and said, “O vizier, this is my slave who misbehaved towards me, so punish her.” He looked at the whiteness of the Turkish girl and the blackness of the woman, and said, “Is it for you that God, the Exalted, has created this white Turkish slave and you are a black slave! Whoever says that would be either crazy or lunatic; this white woman must not be a slave to you, black woman! Guards, make this white Turkish a mistress of the black woman, and the black woman a slave to the Turkish. She can sell you whenever she wants or even set you free,” “O vizier, would you not mete out justice?!” the black woman replied. “This is justice! I am not a crazy or lunatic, get out of my sight, you ugly and black! There is no good in black even if it is musk or honey,” he said. When the black woman had seen this ineluctable verdict, she pleaded with the white Turkish and said to her, “Set me free, for God’s sake and I will reward you bountifully!” The Turkish said to him, “I have made my black slave a free woman!” He replied, “May God reward you well! Leave with your slave and do not come back again!” (My translation)

The turn-taking system in the conversation is built upon a complaint submitted by the black woman to Qarâqûsh against her white Turkish slave. In his response to the woman’s complaint, Qarâqûsh explicitly states his racist ideas about color and the superiority of the white race over the nonwhite. Instead of punishing the insolent Turkish slave, he punishes the black woman and makes her a slave to the Turkish. The old traditional social order of the universe has been collapsed and the roles have been switched. Under Qarâqûsh’s verdict, the lady turns into a slave and the slave turns into a lady. The situation has completely been reversed; the black woman has become a real slave, so entreated her Turkish slave, who has become her own mistress, for emancipation. Humor and sarcasm figure prominently in this incongruous, contradictory, grotesque, and bizarre situation.

Racist^[2] words about color are one of the most important linguistic features of the previous discourse. For instance, words like “white” and “whiteness” have been repeated six times while words like “black” and “blackness” have been used for ten times. The color adjectives “black” and “white,” on the other hand, are antonyms. The repetition of the two synonyms “crazy or lunatic” twice by Qarâqûsh himself elicits laughter from the readers and supports the ironic tone of the text. Humor lies in the fact that the man who has issued this “crazy lunatic” verdict is repeating the same two adjectives twice in order to support the validity of his argument and the fairness of his judgment. The word “slave” has been repeated eight times and Qarâqûsh insists on attributing this adjective to the black woman even after being emancipated by her Turkish slave.

Qarâqûsh uses the present tense to state facts all the time as in: “you are a black slave,” “make this,” “set you free,” “this is justice,” and “I am not crazy or lunatic,” “There is no good in black.” His discourse is marked by the absence of hedges such as “well,” “sort of,” “a bit,” “you know,” “kind of,” “I think,” and “perhaps.” He uses “May” only once at the end of the story, “May God reward you well.” The vizier is not acting as a judge but rather as a soldier, giving commands and orders such as “Guards! Make this white Turkish woman a mistress of the black woman.” He is sometimes shouting: “This is justice! I am not crazy or lunatic, get out of my sight, you ugly and black!,” “Leave with your slave,” and “do not come back again.” In the second anecdote, there is another interesting story:

الحكاية الثانية

قال وتوقف النيل بمصر اياما فنظر الى جمال السقايين عشرين عشرين جملا قال فتفكر عند ذلك وقال فأنا اقول لما ما يوفى من هذه الأفات يا غلمان نادوا فى المدينة قد امر بهاء الدين قراقوش لا يملى احدا من البحر الا جملا واحدا قال ففعلوا ذلك فأوفى النيل فقال لهم يا هولا, الويل لكم ان عدمتمونى فكيف رأيتم رأيى عليكم فما هو الا رأى مبارك. (ابن مماتى، 59 مجاميع رصيد: 171أ -171ب)

Al-ḥikāya al-Thanya

Qāl wa tawaqf al-Nil bimiṣr ayāma fanazar ilā jimal al-saqqayyin ʿīshrin ʿīshrin jamalan qāl fatafakr ʿinda dhalik wa qāl fanā aqūl lamā mā yūfi min hadhi al-afāt yā ghulmān nādū fi al-madina qād amra Bahʾāaddīn Qarâqûsh lā yamlī aḥadā min al-baḥr ilā jamalan wāḥda qāl fafaʿalū dhalik f ʾawf ā al-Nil faqāl lahum yā hawlā, alwail lakum in ʿadamatumuni fakif raʾytum raʾiyy ʿalykum famā huā ilā raʾiun Mubarak. (Ibn Mammātī, 59 Majāmīʿ Raṣīd: 171a–171b)

Second Anecdote

He said: The Nile did not flow in Egypt for some days. Qarâqûsh looked at the Saqqa’s (persons responsible for bringing drinking water) camels while they were loading water in groups twenty by twenty. He thought for a while and said, “The water did not flow because of these pests. Guards, go to the city and announce that I Bahʾāaddīn Qarâqûsh have hereby proclaimed that nobody is permitted to load water from the Nile except one camel for each time.” They did what he said and the Nile did flow again. Qarâqûsh said “Wow! Woe would betide you if you lost me. What do you think of my judgment now? It is only a blessed judgment!” (My translation)

The situation in this anecdote is very complicated and critical, because Egypt is the gift of the Nile as Herodotus puts it. Qarâqûsh thinks that the cause of water shortage is the camels which are loading drinking water in groups of 20. In order to solve that problem, he gives his order that camels should load water from the river one by one. He did not realize that his command was useless because all the camels by the end of the day were loading the same amount of water without saving anything. So his opinion or command is illogical, irrational, and absurd as usual. However, humor lies in the fact that the river has flowed again and Qarâqûsh is really happy because of his blessed judgment. Humor lies in the contradiction between this stupid command and the happy result at the end of the anecdote.

This anecdote is marked by what Fairclough calls “overwording” which is usually a high degree of wording as the text involves many words which are synonyms or near synonyms. This overwording shows preoccupation with some aspect of reality which may indicate that it is a focus of ideological struggle (Fairclough 1989: 115). Words like jimal and jamalan are all synonyms of camels and are employed three times in the text by the author. The verbs yūfi (flows) and f ʾawf ā (flowed) are used by the writer more than once. The two verbs tawaqf (did not flow) and yūfi (flows) are antonyms. The word al-baḥr (the sea), on the other hand, is used instead of al-Nil (the Nile) and this is called Hyponymy where the meaning of one word is included within the meaning of another word. According to the Dictionary of Contemporary Arabic, “Every great river is called the Nile Sea” (Omar 2008: 163). This usage is still used by the Egyptian peasant’s in rural areas today. However, repetition, synonyms, paradigms, paraphrase, parataxis, and parallelism are essentially Arabic and they are at the heart of the language discourse (Johnstone 1991: 11, 74, 75, 109, 113). This repetitive discourse can essentially be attributed to the oral nature of this way of speaking (Johnstone 1991: 113–4). For instance, the repetition of qāl (told) six times in this anecdote has other syntactic reasons that might be related to the oral transmission of popular stories.

In addition to “overwording,” the second anecdote is marked by an informal use of language which is an important linguistic feature of folklore narrative. This language is characterized by the use of contractions, casual language, colloquialism, short simple sentences, less complex vocabulary, and an excessive use of the active voice. One typical orthographic feature of Middle Arabic (MA) is the omission of the hamza that implies the loss of the glottal stop (‘) (Blau 2002: 32–3; Lentin 2008: 220; Versteegh 1997: 99; Nakamichi 2014: 319). For instance, in manuscript 59, Majāmīʿ Raṣīd yamlī is used instead of yamlīʾ. The loss of the conjunction “wa” (و), on the other hand, in the use of ʿīshrin ʿīshrin instead of ʿīshrin wa ʿīshrin might be attributed to the behavior of the copyist or a mistake in the process of copying by the scribe.

Qarâqûsh describes the Saqqa’s (water sellers) with their camels as “pests.” This kind of description sheds light on ideologically motivated words and descriptions. Qarâqûsh looks down upon the common Egyptian people. They are just helpless “pests” who are not even able to think for themselves. He thinks for them and solves their problems and that is the responsibility of the master toward his slaves. Again his discourse is marked by the absence of any hedges like “well,” “sort of,” “a bit,” “you know,” “kind of,” “I think,” and “perhaps.”

He uses commands like qād amra Bahʾāaddīn Qarâqûsh lā yamlī aḥadā min al-baḥr ilā jamalan wāḥda (I Bahʾāaddīn Qarâqûsh has hereby proclaimed that nobody is permitted to load water from the Nile except one camel for each time). He scolds and humiliates his people when he tells them alwail lakum in ʿadamatumuni fakif raʾytum raʾiyy ʿalykum famā huā ilā raʾiun mubarak (Wow! Woe would betide you if you lost me. What do you think of my judgment now? It is a blessed judgment!) Munir (2016:37) asserts that Qarâqûsh’s language associates the classical Qur’anic image of the Pharaoh’s arrogance, insolence, bigotry, stubbornness, and deceptiveness, when he speaks to his people in the Holy Qur’an: “Pharaoh said: I do but show you what I think, and I do but guide you to wise policy.”^[3] The words raʾiyy and raʾiun (judgment) have been used by Qarâqûsh himself twice. The words raʾiun mubarak (blessed judgment) are very important in triggering and eliciting laughter from the readers and audience. Humor lies in the fact that this kind of stupid and lunatic judgment is heavenly inspired and a gift from God to Qarâqûsh to save those poor helpless slaves. The third anecdote narrates:

الحكاية الثالثة

ومنها ان الفلاحين وقفوا له وانهوا ان القطن تلف من البرد وسالوه وضع الخراج عنهم فقال والله لا تدفع احط عنكم الخراج الا ان حلفتم أنكم من السنة الاتية تزرعون مع القطن صوفا حتى تبقى حرارة هذه تدفع برودة هذا فقالوا بسم الله يا مولانا فوضع عنهم الخراج. (السيوطى، 25 مجاميع قولة: 167 ب)

Al-ḥikāya al-Thalatha

Wa minhā ana al-fallāḥin waqafū lahu wa anhū ana al-quṭn talaf min al-bard wa saʾalūh waḍʿ al-kharāj ʿanhum faqāl wallahi lā tadfaʿ aḥuṭ ʿankum al-kharāj ilā an ḥalaftum ʾanakum min al-sana alātiyya tazraʿun maʿa al-quṭn ṣūfā ḥata tabqā ḥarārt hadhi tadfaʿ brūdat hadhā faqālū bismillāh yā mawlānā fawaḍaʿ ʿanhūm al-kharāj. (al-Suyūṭī, 25 Majāmīʿ Qawalah: 167 b)

Third Anecdote

A group of peasants went to Qarâqûsh and told him that the cotton crop was damaged due to the cold and they asked him to exempt them from the tax. He said, “I swear by God that I will not exempt you from the Kharāj tax until you swear an oath that you will plant wool together with cotton to keep it warm against the severe cold.” They replied, “We swear by the name of God, our lord!” So he exempted them from the tax. (My translation)

The former anecdote takes the shape of a request submitted to Qarâqûsh from the peasants. They have asked him to exempt them from the cotton tax, because their harvest has been damaged by the severe cold. The butt of the joke in Qarâqûsh’s argument is that they should have planted wool with the cotton to warm it. The ruler of the country, like all the tyrants in all ages, knows nothing about economy or agriculture. Three words are very significant in the previous discourse. On one hand, the first two words are al-quṭn (cotton) and al-bard (the cold) as each one of them has been repeated twice by the author. On the other hand, the third and most important word for the peasants is the word al-kharāj (tax) which has been repeated three times. The peasants are using a very humble and pleading language like wa saʾalūh (they asked him) and bismillāh yā mawlānā (We swear by the name of Allah, our lord!). Qarâqûsh’s language, on the other hand, is threatening, commanding, and violent as he uses swearing expressions like wallahi lā tadfaʿ aḥuṭ ʿankum al-kharāj ilā an ḥalaftum (I swear by God that I will not exempt you from the Kharāj tax until you swear an oath) and he compels them to swear to him by God in order to exempt them from the tax. The turn-taking system in the conversation is dominated by Qarâqûsh who speaks more words and controls the whole situation. The conversation is not between equals but between a master and his slaves. The previous anecdote is marked by the use of expressions like lā tadfaʿ aḥuṭ ʿankum (I cannot “pay or push” exempt you). I think the verb tadfaʿ (pay or push) is misspelled for the verb yanfaʿ and in this case it will be read from the perspective of the Egyptian colloquial language as lā yanfaʿ (I cannot exempt you), which makes more sense according to the context of the previous anecdote. In a similar vein, the next anecdote reads:

الحكاية الرابعة

ان جماعة من الفلاحين انهوا له ان الزيتون تلف و سألوه أن يحط عنهم الخراج فقال و الله لا احطه عنكم ﺇلا أن حلفتم لى انكم من السنة تزرعون مع الزيتون جبن حالوم و لا تخالفوا المرسوم فحلفوا له فحط عنهم الخراج. (السيوطى ، 1736 م: 106 أ)

Al-ḥikāya al-Rābiʿa

Ana jamāʿa min al-fallāḥin anhū lahu ana al-zaytun talaf wa sʾalūh an yaḥuṭ ʿanhum al-kharāj faqāl wallahi lā aḥuṭuh ʿankum ilā an ḥalaftum ʾanakum min al-sana tazraʿun maʿa al-zaytun jubn ḥālum walā tukhālifū al-marsūm faḥalaf ū lah faḥaṭ ʿanhūm al-kharāj. (al-Suyūṭī, 1736 AD: 106 a)

Fourth Anecdote

A group of peasants complained to Qarâqûsh that the olive harvest is damaged and they asked him to exempt them from the tax. He said, “I swear by God that I will not exempt you until you swear an oath that you will plant halloumi cheese with olive and not to violate that order. They swore to him and he exempted them from the tax. (My translation)

Just as in the previous anecdote, the peasants went to Qarâqûsh to ask him to exempt them from the tax, because their olive harvest was damaged. The Arabic verb yaḥuṭ (exempt) has been used three times by the author as it is very crucial in the context of negotiations with a man like Qarâqûsh. The fourth anecdote looks slightly more formal and Qarâqûsh himself resorts to the use of legal language like wallahi (I swear by God), ḥalaftum (you swear an oath), al-marsūm (order), and faḥalafū (They swore). Also, the anecdote is written in the form of a request or a petition from the peasants to Qarâqûsh. This solemn atmosphere is disrupted by Qarâqûsh’s queer verdict as usual when he orders the peasants to plant halloumi cheese with olive and that is the butt of the joke. Humor is heightened when the poor peasants swore their oath to Qarâqûsh and they were lucky enough, because he pardoned them.

الحكاية الخامسة

يحكى أن جنديا نزل فى مركب وكان فيها فلاح وزوجته فضربها الجندى فسقطت وكانت فى سبعة أشهرفشكا الفلاح الجندى له فقال له خذ زوجة الفلاح عندك و أطعمها و أسقها حتى تصير فى سبعة أشهرعدها الى زوجها فقال الفلاح يا مولانا تركت أجرى على الله و أخذ زوجته وذهب. (السيوطى، عربى 3552: 8)

Al-ḥikāya al-Khāmisa

Yūḥka ana jundiā nazal fi markib wa kān fihā fallāḥ wa zawjatuhu faḍarabhā al-jundi fasaqaṭat wa kānt fi sabʿa ʾashur fashakā al-fallāḥ al-jundi lahu faqāl lahu khudh zawjat al-fallāḥ ʿindak wa ʾṭʿmhā wa ʾsqihā ḥata taṣir fi sabʿa ʾashur ʿidhā ila zawjhā faqāl al-fallāḥ yā mawlānā taraktu ‘ajri ʿala Allāh wa ʾkhadha zawjatuhu wa dhahab. (al-Suyūṭī, Arabe 3552: 8)

Fifth Anecdote

A soldier boarded a boat with a peasant and his wife. The soldier struck the peasant’s wife causing her a miscarriage in her seventh month. The peasant made his complaint to Qarâqûsh against the soldier. Qarâqûsh said to the soldier: “Take the peasant’s wife to your house, give her food and water and when she becomes pregnant in seven months, return her to her husband. The peasant said: “My lord, I leave my recompense to God!” Then, he took his wife and left. (My translation)

In the fifth anecdote, there are four major characters: a soldier, a peasant, his wife, and Qarâqûsh. The peasant complained to Qarâqûsh because the soldier struck his wife and thus she had an abortion. Instead of punishing the soldier for his ruthless crime, Qarâqûsh asked him to take the peasant’s wife to his house and to give her food and drink until she becomes pregnant again in 7 months and then return her to her husband. The implied meaning of ḥata taṣir fi sabʿa ʾashur (until she becomes pregnant again in seven months) is clear as the soldier has to have sex with her until she becomes pregnant again in 7 months in order to compensate the poor peasant for his loss and that is the butt of the joke.

The word al-fallāḥ (a peasant) is repeated four times by the author. Also, the word al-jundi (a soldier) has been used three times as well. The author is stressing the marriage relationship between the peasant and his wife all the time and that is quite evident in his excessive use of expressions like fallāḥ wa zawjatuhu (a peasant and his wife), zawjat al-fallāḥ (the peasant’s wife), zawjhā (her husband), and zawjatuhu (his wife). By doing this, the author wants to give us an indication that the peasant has an obligation and a duty toward the safety of his wife and her unborn baby. The soldier has committed an act of physical aggression against the peasants’ wife causing her a miscarriage. We have two adversaries in front of Qarâqûsh (the judge in this case): the poor peasant and one of Qarâqûsh’s soldiers. Ironically, in his attempt to be neutral and restore the peasant’s right, Qarâqûsh gives his soldier a license to commit another act of sexual aggression against the peasant’s wife. The peasant responds in agony and depression pleading with God for justice not only against the soldier but, implicitly, against Qarâqûsh as well. The actions in the previous discourse are based mainly on the use of the past tense in verbs like nazal (boarded), faḍarabhā (struck her), fasaqaṭat (she had an abortion), fashakā (complained), faqāl (said), ʾkhadha (took), and dhahab (left). This tense goes in harmony with the general state of despair, agony, depression, and determinism that hover over the peasant’s head and eventually lead to his surrender and withdrawal.

الحكاية السادسة

ومنها ان شخصا ادعى على آخر انه عض اذنه فسأله قراقوش فقال يا خوند هو كاذب بل هو عض اذن نفسه فقام قراقوش من مجلسه ودخل البيت وجلس على كرسى والتفت الى اذنه ليعضها بفمه فما قدر على ذلك وانفرك به الكرسى فسقط على يده فانكسرت فخرج وهو بهذه الحالة وامر بضرب المدعى عليه وقال انت الذى عضيت هذا وكسرت ذراعى زيادة على ذلك. (السيوطى، 1736 م: 106 ب)

Al-ḥikāya al-Sādisa

Wa minhā ana shkhṣā idaʿa ʿala ākhar anahu ʿaḍa ‘audhunah fasaʾalhu Qarâqûsh faqāl yā khawand huwa kādhib bal huwaʿaḍa ‘audhun nafsih faqām Qarâqûsh min majlish wa dakhal al-bayt wa jalasaʿala kursi wa iltafata ilā ‘audhunah liyaʿuḍhā bifamih famā qadr ʿala dhalik wa infaraka bihi al-kursi fasaqaṭ ʿala yadhū fankasart fakharja wa huwa bihadhi alḥāla wa amar biḍarb al-mudaʿa ʿaliyya wa qāl anta aladhi ʿaḍiyyt hadhā wa kasart dhirāʿi ziādaʿala dhalik. (al-Suyūṭī, 1736 AD: 106 b)

Sixth Anecdote

Two men went to Qarâqûsh. One of them accused the other of having bitten his ear. Qarâqûsh questioned the defendant who said: “No my lord, he is a liar, he bit himself.” Qarâqûsh went home, he entered his private room, sat on a chair, and tried to bite his own ear but he could not. In his endeavor to bite himself the chair leaned with him and he fell down on the floor and broke his hand. He went out in that condition and ordered the defendant to be beaten, and said: “It’s you who bit this man’s ear and broke my arm as well!” (My translation)

Another complaint is made to Qarâqûsh by one man against another. One of them accused the other of having bitten his ear. Qarâqûsh interrogated the defendant who insisted that the other man is a liar and he bit his own ear. Qarâqûsh is perplexed and confused; he is not able to issue his verdict in this case. In order to think about this complicated case, he went home and tried to bite his own ear but in vain. The scene of Qarâqûsh’s falling on the floor in his desperate attempt to bite his own ear is extremely ludicrous. I believe the previous anecdote combines both verbal and visual humor and anticipates the emergence of a new kind of comedy which is known in the world of today as caricature. Ibn Mammātī is cunningly reducing Qarâqûsh to the position of an idiotic clown on an absurd theater.

In this anecdote, both verbal and visual humor interlink in a powerful combination. The butt of the joke lies in the expression bal huwaʿaḍa ‘audhun nafsih (he bit his own ear).Words like ʿaḍa, liyaʿuḍhā, ʿaḍiyyt (bit and bites) have been used four times in the anecdote. The word ‘audhunah (ear), on the other hand, has been used three times by the author. The Arabic consonant letter (Faa’, “ف”) is deliberately used as a prefix before the verbs saqaṭ (fell), inkasart (broke), and kharja (went out) to express al-tartib wa al-taʿqib (consecutive order) (Mustafa 2004: 670). Humor reaches another level when Qarâqûsh issues his verdict of beating the defendant not only for biting the man’s ear but for breaking his arm as well.

الحكاية السابعة

ومنها انه اراد مجامعة زوجته فلم يقم ذكره عليه فغضب وقال لها والله لابيعن هذا و اشترى ذكرا غيره. (السيوطى، 25 مجاميع قولة: 167 ب)

Al-ḥikāya al-Sābiʿa

Wa minhā anahu arād mujāmaʿat zawjatuhu falam yaqm dhakarahu ʿalyhi faghaḍaba wa qāl lahā wallahi lʾābiʿana hadha wa ashtari dhakarā ghyrh. (al-Suyūṭī, 25 Majāmīʿ Qawalah: 167 b)

Seventh Anecdote

Once Qarâqûsh wanted to have sex with his wife and his penis did not erect. He got angry and said to her: “I swear by God that I will sell this penis and buy another one.” (My translation)

The language of sex and money dominates the discourse of the previous anecdote. Sexual language can be seen in words such as mujāmaʿat (to have sex), yaqm (erect), and dhakar (penis). The word dhakar (penis) is repeated twice because it is the major problem or knot in the story. The language of money is used by the author in the two antonyms: lʾābiʿana (sell) and ashtari (buy). However, these two verbs are crucial in solving the whole problem. They are very significant and important not only for the life of people at that time but for the personal and sexual life of Qarâqûsh himself as well. This sheds light on the ideology of that time and how by money you can simply buy anything even if you have to sell your old dick and buy a new one! From another perspective, however, it is historically well-known that Qarâqûsh is originally a eunuch. Many Arab scholars, therefore, regard these sex jokes as substantial evidence for the fabrication of all stories in Kitāb al-Fāshūsh (Ḥamzah 1951; ʿAzzām 1999; Alshāl 2000; Al-Jāsir 1998). Munir (2016:44), on the other hand, politicizes the previous joke by claiming that “Every Qarâqûsh ruler, who is unable to fulfill his duties and responsibilities toward his home in the first place, will not be necessarily able to carry out the duties of governance and he does not deserve it.”

In terms of vocabulary, there are some words and phrases in the previous anecdotes which are ideologically contested. By ideologically contested words and phrases I mean certain words and phrases that express an ideological standpoint or perspective. This language throws some light on the hierarchical nature of the Egyptian society and state in the medieval time. At the top, there are the rulers and the masters with their soldiers. At the bottom, there are the lower classes, the peasants and the slaves. For instance, the use of racist vocabulary (such as “black” and “white” in the first anecdote) has an experiential value in terms of a racist representation of a particular group or class of people. This racist language unveils a racist ideology that the speaker harbors toward those people. The first anecdote, for instance, is full of racist words: “black,” “white,” “slave,” “free woman,” “master,” and “mistress.” In anecdote number 2, Qarâqûsh describes the Saqqa’s with their camels as “pests.” The intricate relationship between a master and his slaves in Egypt in the medieval time can be inferred from some words like “slaves,” “executioner,” “government,” “soldiers,” “my lord,” “Sultan,” “Turkish,” “Set me free,” “reward you,” “vizier,” “judgment,” “justice,” and “serve.” The agricultural nature of the Egyptian society is exemplified by words like “peasant,” “agriculture,” “harvest,” “tax,” “cotton,” “olive,” “ halloumi cheese,” “wool,” “the Nile,” “the Saqqa’s,” “camels,” “money,” “ buy,” and “sell.” The text is characterized by “overwording” and rewording with a special focus on the use of synonyms and repetition. The language of the previous anecdotes is a mixture of both formal and informal use of language.

Regarding grammar, the previous anecdotes are characterized by the use of “overwording,” informal use of language, the use of contractions, casual language, colloquialism, short simple sentences, less complex vocabulary, and excessive use of the active voice. Qarâqûsh’s discourse in the previous anecdotes is marked by the absence of any hedges like “well,” “sort of,” “a bit,” “you know,” “kind of,” “I think,” and “perhaps.” These hedges are usually associated with politeness, logical thinking, meditation, and avoidance of “any particular attitudes or prejudices that reflect cultural biases and emotional attachments” (Piechurska-Kuciel 2013: 6). Qarâqûsh’s language is a mixture of Middle Arabic and classical fusha which is typical of any foreign ruler who is not familiar with the language of the country. The Egyptian people poked fun at this hybrid language calling it “broken Arabic,” and it was one of the most important linguistic features of Turkish rulers who occupied Egypt for a long time. The language of the peasants, on the other hand, is humble, weak, and pleading like “our lord Sultan,” “we beseech you o lord,” “my lord,” and “O vizier.” Sometimes they resort to ambiguous replies as a way of avoiding the aggression, violence, and suppression of Qarâqûsh. Sometimes, they resort to silence and pleading with God. Qarâqûsh uses commands and orders while the peasants are using humble requests. Qarâqûsh is controlling all the situations. The turn taking system in the majority of the anecdotes is based upon complaints submitted to Qarâqûsh who is dominating all the dialogues and all the anecdotes with his queer character and his stupid verdicts.

4.2 Dimension 2 discursive practice (text production-text interpretation)

Discursive practice is a complicated procedure which involves processes of “text production, distribution, and consumption.” Henceforth, the researcher has to examine the text’s production conditions: processes that the text goes through before it is printed, changes that might happen during those processes and whether he can trace an “intertextual chain” of texts where the same text can be seen in a range of different versions. The analysis of the intertextual chain can prove how the structure and the content of the text are changed or transformed (Fairclough 1995b: 77ff). Scholars have found that folktales are not “canonized” or “unchangeable” texts, and the narrators, therefore, are shaping their texts according to the different situational contexts. Some narrators are gifted enough to creatively combine these folktales and “embellish them with individual traits.” This process might involve “inserting” or adding new elements to the original narrative (Marzolph 1998: 119).

4.3 Dimension 3 social practice (the relationship between the discursive processes and the social processes)

This part deals with two main concepts. First, it explores the relationship between the discursive practice and its order of discourse (Fairclough 1992b: 237). Second, it investigates the social and cultural context that has led to the formation of the discursive practice or what Fairclough calls “the social matrix of discourse” (Fairclough 1992b: 237).