It so happened that once Sultan Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn had consolidated his rule, he ordered that the Friday sermon be delivered in the name of the Abbasids, acting on a directive (1) he had received from King Nūr al-Dīn after Caliph al-Mustaḍīʾ had reproached him for the delay. At that time al-ʿĀḍid was bedridden with a fatal illness; he died on the day of ʿĀshūrāʾ. Sultan Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn attended his funeral, joined in the mourning, wept for him, expressed regret, and displayed deep sorrow for him (2).
Al-ʿĀḍid had been obedient to everything he ordered, and he was generous, open-handed, and widely praised—may Allah pardon him.
When al-ʿĀḍid died, Sultan Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn took possession of the palace with everything in it. He moved al-ʿĀḍid’s family to a separate residence he had set aside for them and assigned them pleasant stipends and a comfortable livelihood in exchange for the caliphate they had forfeited.
Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn (3) later regretted instituting the Abbasid sermon (4) in Egypt before al-ʿĀḍid’s death, saying, “Why did I not wait until after he had passed away?” (5) Yet it was a decree that had been fore-ordained and written in the Book.
Among the verses composed on this occasion by al-ʿImād al-Kātib (6)(7)—in the meter al-munsariḥ—are the following:
Al-ʿĀḍid, the pretender, has died, and never again
shall an innovator’s banner be unfurled in Egypt—never!
The age of her Pharaoh (8) has come to an end,
and her Joseph now holds undisputed command.
The embers of the misguiders have been extinguished (9);
every spark of idolatry that once blazed has now been laid bare (10) and quenched.
The fabric of righteousness has been sewn together within her,
and the necklace of sound guidance arranged in perfect order.
When the emblem of the Abbasids was openly raised (11) in truth,
falsehood concealed itself and fell silent.
The herald of tawḥīd emerged triumphant,
avenging himself on the callers to shirk.
The people of deviation lingered beneath canopies
of dense, enveloping darkness and blindness.
The ignorant were left bewildered (12) in gloomy confusion,
once the pulpits of the scholars shone with light.