I Hamdan bin Rayan, the sheikh of the Bani Mihzar tribe, and the descendant of an ancient house of the sheikhs of Sheba since my childhood, knew that King Al-Haddad is the undisputed master of our kingdom, and that men in his time feared his might and respected the firmness of his judgment, I did not imagine that time would turn his wheel, and the woman ascended the throne, breaking the rules and overthrowing the customs on which we grew up generation after generation.
Since the middle of the Haddad era, I was one of his own who he turned to to resolve disputes between tribes and protect the trade routes that cross our lands We had the title of "protectors of the plains", as our tribes exercise extensive authority over mountain passes and wide valleys Al-Haddad has acquiesced to us with his intelligence as he understood his need for us as we understand our need for him We mutually benefit from our military loyalty, and we benefit from his political generosity and the elevation of his name
But Queen Bilqis, despite her undeniable blood, she is the daughter of Haddad remains with us a mystery that we fear that a person will be born a woman is not a defect in himself, but her sitting on the throne, alone by virtue of a rule equivalent to the authority of men, is what we have not known and do not accept These are the roots of our objection, not hatred in her person, but fear of a reversal of standards and changing priorities In the depth of the traditions that we carry from the ancestors, a voice says that leading wars and organizing tribal affairs is a matter for men, so how do conditions straighten out? If all this changes overnight?
A few weeks ago, when we heard the news of al-Haddad's death, we met in a secret council in my home to which I had invited a number of powerful tribal sheikhs, such as Sheikh Malik bin Riad, Sheikh Qutim, and others who were skeptical of the idea of the succession of Bilqis.
Malik bin Riad was the first to speak a sharp-eyed man, weighing every word, who said:
"If Sheba built its glory on the wisdom and power of Haddad, does it make sense to open the way for a woman who manipulates matters of governance?".
Then he raised his voice:
"Men, we are at a crossroads where we either accept the domination of a throne led by a woman, or we confront this absurdity in order to preserve our prestige and that of our fathers."
The audience responded to his words in whispers and gestures, and at that moment, I felt that the enthusiasm of the men exceeded my expectation, and I thought that the rejection would be so wide.
Our objection was not arbitrary or just intransigence We are tribal sheikhs We see that the new queen carries a project that may change the balance of power Since the late era of Haddad, the influence of the Grand Chancellor Khazabala began to swell, as if he was running the palace from behind the curtain We fear him more than we fear her, he is a smart man, he knows the subtleties of governance and methods of politics He scares us that he tries to use the young queen as a cover for his projects, and we lose the tribal leadership built by the ancestors hundreds of years ago.
In addition, many sheikhs, including me, do not imagine a future in which a woman leads campaigns to defend the borders of Sheba, or spares the blood of a tribe that revolted on the outskirts of the Kingdom. Our prevailing logic says that whoever enters the battlefields and confronts the leaders of angry tribes should bear the title of "Sheikh" or "King", not "Queen".
Despite our outright refusal, we did not dare to declare a rebellion immediately, as everyone knows the strength of the central army loyal to the throne, in addition to the private guard that grew up under the mourning and became loyal to his family, so we agreed to slow down, and hide behind what looks like temporary recognition of Bilqis' authority, until we test its actual ability to run the helm of government.
It was agreed in our secret council that we demand the formation of a "governing council" that shares the decision not out of love to participate, but out of a desire to take the reins of the matter, even if it refuses, we prepare the tribal street for anger and protest, even if it is accepted on unfair terms, we enshrine our power from the inside and empty the throne of its content, so our plan was to besiege it politically, without a direct military clash that exposes the interest of the tribes to open risks.
I do not miss that some tribes, which descend from sub-descendants of the sons of Sheba and their ancient rulers, who are the fuel of their army, stand with Bilqis and revere their dynasty, considering that the throne of Sheba is a sacred heritage that may not be revoked, even if the queen is a woman and these proceed from their pride in the history of mourning and their pride in its lineage, and perhaps there are those who open their horizons to new ideas that see the conflict as just a movement towards development, but I, Hamdan bin Rayan, do not see development in tearing up customs, but I see it as a danger that is about to swallow the prestige Men.
There is also a reluctant group among us, afraid to stand on a side directly against the throne, and at the same time afraid that it will lose its status if it supports a woman who may soon fall if the pressure on her intensifies. They walk on a thin rope, studying the wind and watching the signs of strength and weakness if they see us winning support, join us, and if they see Bilqis holding together, take refuge in the palace or claim neutrality.
I heard that Bilqis will soon call for a public meeting in the temple square, in which tribal sheikhs and urban elites gather, under the pretext of dialogue and consultation, perhaps they want to precede us by a step, or lure us to announce our positions so that they pounce on us in broad daylight, but we will not enter the meeting oblivious, as we have unanimously shown the calm and rational face, and took the reins of speech under the pretext of "preserving the unity of Sheba" and "in honor of the blood of mourning" and at the heart of this seemingly balanced speech, we carry our basic demands.
A broad tribal Shura Council, arguing that women's decisions need a basis that derives legitimacy from tribal leaders. Ensuring the guardianship of a man over military affairs under the pretext that carrying arms is only worthy of those who are imbued with the values of masculinity and war. Reducing the powers of the Grand Chancellor to curb the influence of Khazabala, who fears that he will rule behind the scenes.
If you accept all this, you become a mere figurehead who has nothing to do with it, and if you refuse, we are sure that many tribes will declare their alignment with our demands, because we will show them as tyrannical exclusivity, and thus invoke the ancient texts that protest against women's rule.
We also sought to put some of our eyes in the corridors of the palace, there are old guards with whom we made friends during the days of mourning, and some servants who owe allegiance to those elders who lavished them with gifts in the past through these, we get information about the movements of the queen and Khazabala which councils are held and when, who visits the palace at night, and what is said in the side corridors.
We hear that Khazabala is a man who sleeps little, sitting with the Queen all night discussing plans that we do not know the details of, he was said to alert her to our tricks, and incite her to take smart steps that we do not expect, we do not underestimate his opponent, so the day Al-Haddad was at the height of his glory, we knew the extent of his cunning, and here he is today putting his cunning at the service of Bilqis, but there is no hermetic fortress that is not penetrated by time or harmed by the skilled enemy.
Our wise people are aware that resorting to arms at this stage will harm all parties, as Sheba is still bound by enormous trade agreements with distant kingdoms, and the outbreak of an internal war may expose both tribes and the throne to great losses, so we conflict within us between the desire to maintain ostensible peace, and the desire to hold the reins of government.
But, on a personal level, I find myself inclined to test Bilqis's abilities politically if she can repel us with resourcefulness and skill, I may reconsider my position, even if cautiously, but if she falls into the trap and waives the essential powers, she will remain only a puppet in the hands of Khazabala, and we will be able to run the kingdom behind it.
I sit in my spacious tent, in the middle of a divan adorned with hanging swords and shields inherited from my ancestors, drinking coffee mixed with spices, and reviewing in my imagination the scene of the next temple The queen, in full reverence, announces her vision in front of the crowd, as we sit in the first rows, exchanging glances and observations, and waiting for the moment of a quiet onslaught or soft attack as we agreed.
Perhaps tomorrow will witness the rebirth of Sheba under female leadership and may witness the beginning of a conflict that redraws the features of governance Whatever it may be, I, Hamdan bin Rayan, have resolved with my elderly comrades not to be silent in the face of a radical change that ravages the constants of the ancestors.
If a woman wins her wit, then we have another hadith, and if she is broken, the king returns to men as he was so divided in our consciences, and so the coming days will record the name of Bilqis in the annals of history, either exceeding the most severe traditions, or becoming a passing mark in Sheba's long life.
"Life in palaces is nothing but fluctuation between hands, and the king is nothing but patience for intrigues and confronting the currents of the tribes, and whoever appeared cunning prevailed, and from helplessness fell into the darkness of oblivion."
Thus I whispered to myself at the end of a day full of planning and maneuvers, leaving the possibility that Bilqis is more capable than we think or an easy victim to the ruthless Days alone will reveal the consequence of this raging conflict at the end of that lonely day, where the sunset wrapped us in a scarf of golden dust and a suspicious knife surrounded us, as if the souls of our ancestors were watching us from behind secrets that only the walls of ancient temples can reveal I was preparing for the meeting called by the queen in the Great Temple, and I used to be the Sheikh Hamdan bin Rayan I would base the customs of judgment on those ancient religious texts that we have passed down through generations, texts some of which say that women should not run the reins of a kingdom that dug its pillars on the basis of the alliance of heaven and earth We all thought that Bilqis, the daughter of Haddad, broken by the departure of her father, would have no power in front of the crowd of sheikhs and the rigor of these texts, but our certainty began to shake from the moment the drums began to beat to mark their arrival.
She came as she advanced a silent procession of soldiers wearing shields decorated with sun emblems, led by torches burning as if to revive the spirit of mourning, while the ancient religious verses were recited faintly around the temple looked like a theater of secrets, its towering columns glued to a sky studded with silent stars, as if they were the eyes of the gods that never sleep. The queen ascended a marble platform amid the awe of the crowd, and behind her stood the Grand Chancellor Khazabala with a face resembling a stone mask that does not indicate the ideas it stores.
Some of us thought that tonight would be the moment of the pounce, as we carried in our pockets texts prohibiting the negligence of the "right of the man" led by the tribes of Sheba, and others calling for a return to what she called the "old charter", which acknowledges that the king is only a man who grew up in the fields of war and blood, but Bilqis, with a confident smile and a face that reflects a mixture of femininity and determination, began to recite what looks like royal spells that began to mention the exploits of the mourning in front of those present, and talk about his covenant preserved in gold tablets and temple inscriptions, paving the way To declare her hereditary right to rule Sheba as the only daughter of the one who deserved the title of "Son of the Sun".
At that moment, I had the idea that she might try, tactfully, to draw us into a square where we would become nominal partners, while she retained the actual power. We did not delay in making our demands. Sheikh Malik bin Riad stood up and strongly declared that the management of army affairs in the sacred texts was not for women. Then we were surprised by a response from Bilqis that seemed more like a verse in a forgotten book, as she said that the commandments of the ancient gods call for unity of ranks and hearts, and that she does not mind choosing a military commander. of the tribal sheikhs, provided that the supreme authority of the throne is not affected, her response seemed, at first glance, as if he abdicated the king's prestige, but I realized that this step kept the final decision in her hands.
Some of the sheikhs were confused, they aspired to wrest power from its roots in the name of the Sunnah and the teachings written on the walls of the temple, so the queen invokes the spirit of the text and harnesses it in her favor, so she becomes a "protector of traditions" instead of being critical of her, she used to recite her phrases like a reader of ancient secrets searching in the symbols of the sun and the moon for an interpretation that supports her, sometimes she magnifies the status of her late father Al-Haddad, and sometimes she involves the sheikhs and invites them to join a "higher advisory council" that abides, according to a vague text that she cited, to share advice rather than decision.
We wanted to besiege it under the pretext that women have no right to rule alone, so they give us an outlet that does not make us the heroes of the battle or its kings, but rather advisers who revolve around the orbit it created. Worse still, if we rejected the principle of public consultation in front of the people, we would have fallen into the trap of accusing us of being outside the tribal consensus with a religious inspiration that is impossible to deny. Thus, the meeting of the temple turned into a scene ostensibly intended to promote unity, but in fact it allowed Bilqis to manipulate the cards we thought we keep it alone.
The crowd broke up near midnight, and the torchlight lights painted overlapping shadows on the temple floor, as if they were letters from a mysterious text warning us against the consequences of exaggeration. I saw the faces of the elder's tense, some convinced that the queen had made a real step in establishing her legitimacy, others feeling that her advisory taste would drag us into an arena where we spin without the ability to seize the throne. As for me, I remained standing, wondering if the blood of mourning in her veins had gained strength stemming from the sanctification of the sun, or if the adviser Khazabala used his old cunning to direct it like this.
Bilqis did not emerge completely victorious, as we forced her to declare her commitment to refer to us in major decisions, especially those related to war and peace, but on the other hand she succeeded in thwarting our plan for immediate rebellion, there is no way to raise the banner of hostility against those who give us an official role in advice, and make us appear honored sheikhs.
That night, before I left the temple, I stared for a long time at the ancient inscriptions covering its walls, depicting the birth of the sun burning in the sky, and where verses about an era in which an entire mountain might be shaken as punishment for a neighboring people for the law of the ancestors. At that time, a worrying certainty prevailed in me. We are not safe from destruction if we wage a fierce war on the daughter of Haddad, and we are not assured that the rule of women will continue peacefully forever. This fragile equilibrium would have held, or would the wind blow again to drop the leaves of this "enlightened queen" in a fierce battle in which the scripture itself might be cited to exclude her.
I left feeling a hidden twinkle, as I realized that we were no longer in control of the journey as we imagined. Here we are taking a step in a mysterious path, in which our fear of breaking the customs of heaven is mixed with the vague hope that Saba will be coming to an era that will restore the tribes' unity and strength. In front of all this, the face of Bilqis, an ambitious woman who evokes royal court spells and ancient texts, still beats with a strange defiance, a face that suggests that her light has not yet manifested itself with all its ability to burn. Shadows or on their melting in the horizon of a new rule whose features are not yet clear, we have relatively supported it today or ours? Only the sun in the temples of Sheba and the books of the ancients know which of the two truths will float on the surface of history.