or compromised his convictions and sought to appease others.’ So I shall have a written creed brought, one written some seven years ago, before the Tatars came to Syria.”

Before it was brought, I said things that I can no longer recall precisely, and I became intensely angry. But I remember saying:

“I know that some people have lied about me and said things to the sultan.”

I said what I felt it necessary to say, including:

“Who other than me stood up for Islam in times of need? Who clarified its proofs and explained it, fought its enemies, and restored it when it faltered—when everyone abandoned it, no one presented its case, and no one fought in its defence? I stood up to make its case clear, fight in its defence, and encourage people to embrace it.

“If these people presume to malign me, how would they treat anyone else? Even if a Jew asked the sultan for justice, he would be obliged to grant him justice. I may waive my rights, or I may not. Indeed, I may ask him to grant me justice and have these people who lie brought forward, so that they may acknowledge their fabrications.”

I spoke at greater length along these lines, but so much time has passed that I no longer recall it precisely. The emir then motioned to Muhyī al-Dīn, the kātib al-daraj (scribe), to write that down.

I also said:

“Whoever disagrees with me on anything I have written, I know his own school of thought better than he does.”

I do not know whether I said this before the creed was brought or afterwards. But after it had been brought and read, I also said:

“There is not a single section in it on which someone among those who profess allegiance to our direction of prayer does not disagree, and every statement in it contradicts the position of one group or another.”

Then