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by
M. Shahid Alam
September
27, 2003
Two
years after September 11, 2001, when the righteous indignation of Americans at
the attacks on the Twin Towers and the Pentagon had cooled a bit, five Ivy
League colleges decided to invite a Muslim sage to talk to them about why such
horrible things were done to Americans.
After
much deliberation, the five colleges narrowed their choice to Jelalduddin Rumi
and Mulla Nasruddin, two Muslim sages best known to Americans. (That does not
mean that many Americans have heard about these sages.) In the end, it
was the Mulla who won out, since he was thought to posses a keener mind on
matters mundane.
I
had the privilege of attending all five lectures. The Mulla had called me up
and insisted that I should read his talks. He was afraid that the audience
would be distracted by his Oriental attire and Farsi accent. It was an honor I
could not turn down.
Before
returning to his home town in Bokhara (or, is it Balk, Badakhshan or Bamiyan?)
the Mulla asked if I could make his talks available to a wider American public.
I did not have the heart to tell the Mulla that his talks, which were stories
about his antics, had not gone well (he had not noticed), and it wasn’t very
likely that they would be better appreciated by a wider American public. [1] But perhaps I was forgetting the blinders that academics
wear.
I
will report the Mulla’s lectures exactly as I read them, but at the end of each
lecture I have dared to insert a few helpful notes. At least, I think they
might be helpful.
Many
years ago, the Mulla was traveling on the Silk Road to China when he met
George, a traveler from the land of the Franks. They soon became friends and
decided to travel together, each pledging to help the other on the long and
difficult journey ahead.
Several
days later, after traveling through a dreary stretch of arid country, they came
to a small town. Since they were both hungry and thirsty, they found their way
to the only inn in town. But they had little money left. So they decided to
share a bowl of milk. It would quench their thirst and provide some
nourishment.
George
said to the Mulla, “You drink your half first. I have one lump of sugar, and it
is only enough to sweeten my half.” The Mulla insisted that they share the
sugar too. However, when he saw that George was not in a mood to relent, the
Mulla went into the kitchen and returned with a large lump of salt, and told
George that he just remembered that he preferred to drink his milk with salt.
Before
the Mulla could add the lump of salt to the glass of milk, George had a change
of heart. Smiling, he offered his lump of sugar to the Mulla. One by one, they
quenched their thirst with sweetened milk. In addition, the Mulla savored the
sweet taste of victory.
Notes:
The glass of milk is the world: its land, water, and the fruits of labor. The
sugar is the technology, property rights, etc. And the salt? What is your
guess?
Once,
the Mulla woke up in the middle of the night to find that there was a burglar
in his house gathering up his furnishings, clothes and pots. He did not disturb
the burglar, but watched quietly as he swept the house clean and loaded his
haul into a donkey cart.
When
the burglar took off, the Mulla followed the donkey cart at a distance. He took
note of the rich and commodious house, a few blocks from his own, where the
burglar unloaded his loot, and quietly returned to his modest – and now emptied
– dwelling, and went back to sleep.
Next
morning, the Mulla asked his wife and children to follow him. They were moving
into a new house. He took them to the burglar’s house, pushed open the door,
and moved in.
When
the burglar woke up later in the day, the Mulla thanked him profusely for
helping him move to his new house.
Notes:
Imagine the poor Latin Americans moving north across the Rio Grande, or the
North Africans heading for the northern shores of the Mediterranean.
One
day the Mulla walked into a teahouse. He was audibly muttering to himself, “I
don’t like the sun: it does little good. I love the moon.”
The
people in the teahouse asked him why? The Mulla answered, “Can’t you see? The
moon shines at night when it is dark, spreading its light for travelers, night
workers and lovers. On the other hand, the sun shines during the day, when it
is bright anyway.”
Notes:
The mind can play tricks, missing the obvious connections. Example: We were
attacked on 9-11 because the Arabs hate our freedom and affluence. We have only
been kind to them.
On
one occasion, the Mulla borrowed a large cooking pot from his next-door
neighbor. When returning it, he placed a smaller cooking pot inside the
borrowed one. The neighbor reminded him that the smaller pot did not belong to
him; he had lent the large one. The Mulla replied that in fact it did belong to
him. He explained, “While your pot was with me, one night it gave birth to a
baby pot.” The neighbor did not object to that.
A
few days later, the Mulla again borrowed his neighbor’s cooking pot, but this time
never returned it. When the neighbor came asking for his pot, the Mulla told
him that he could not have it back. “Your pot had died soon after I borrowed
it,” he said.
At
first, the neighbor thought the Mulla was joking. But soon he grew irate when
he found that the Mulla was sticking to his narrative. The Mulla tried to calm
his neighbor, “If your pot could give birth to a baby, why couldn’t it die?”
Notes:
The social sciences have invented some quite improbable stories to push the
agenda of their clients: privileged classes, ‘races,’ and countries.
Occasionally, these narratives are applied only partially. The rich countries
tout free markets for their capital, but rigorously protect their own
labor.
A
mighty emperor once sought the Mulla’s help. He told the Mulla: “The great
kings and conquerors of the past carried great titles, and often their titles
celebrated divine favors. In the past, there were kings that were God-anointed,
God-chosen, God-like, and even God-descended.” The mighty emperor asked the
Mulla to come up with an honorific appropriate to his great conquests.
The
Mulla said that he would have to think about it, but he would send him one
after a month’s meditation upon the subject. A month later, having safely
hidden himself, the Mulla sent his answer to the King, embossed on gold-leaf.
It
said: “God-forbid.”
Notes:
This king ruled over the greatest country in the world – even the greatest in
the history of mankind.
M. Shahid Alam is professor of
economics at Northeastern University. His last book, Poverty from the Wealth
of Nations, was published by Palgrave in 2000. He may be reached at m.alam@neu.edu. Visit his webpage at http://msalam.net. © M. Shahid Alam
* Pakistan
“Recognizes” Israel
* Is The
United States “A Terrorist Magnet”?
* A
Short History of the Global Economy Since 1800
* Illuminating
Thomas Friedman
[1] The Mulla Nasruddin stories in this
report are taken from two books by Idries Shah: The Pleasantries of the Mulla
and The Exploits of the Incomparable Mulla Nasruddin.