The Last Judgment (40 page)

Zayed strode back to the prosecution's table with a look of consummate satisfaction.

As Will made his way to the podium he knew two things. First, he was forbidden from challenging the mufti about his own terrorist connections. That avenue of inquiry had already been barred by the prosecution's
motion in limine
, which had been granted by the tribunal in a pretrial ruling.

And secondly, he would have to be as cautious in handling this witness as a snake charmer lifting a cobra out of a basket.

“Sheikh Mudahmid,” Will said in a confident greeting.

“Attorney Chambers,” the witness said, nodding his head slightly but never taking his gaze off Will.

“Sheikh, you say that Gilead Amahn was insulting to you and to the other Muslim clerics. True?”

“Of course this is true. I have explained this very clearly.”

“The insult came from Mr. Amahn's words?”

“His very presence in the Hall of the Prophet that day was an insult.”

“So then, his
words
were neither insulting nor threatening—just his
presence?”

“I did not say that. His words were an insult. And a clear threat.”

“Then let's talk about his words. Why would you—a very powerful mufti, a religious leader who has many bodyguards protecting him wherever he goes, who issues religious fatwahs to thousands of his followers—why would you have felt insulted by the mere words of this young preacher?”

“He was insolent and blasphemous.”

“Because he elevated Jesus the Christ, the Messiah, the Son of God, above the prophet Muhammad?”

“No one can elevate Jesus above Muhammad. Only Allah himself, may his name be praised, decides who rises and who falls. And that includes you, Mr. Chambers.”

“So, did you agree with Gilead that Jesus is the Son of God?”

The sheikh was sending Will Chambers a scorching, withering gaze.

“Such things are for Allah to declare—and he has declared it in his holy book, the Quran. I would recommend that you read it.”

“I have,” Will shot back. “Let's take this section of the Quran, Sura 17:111—it says, ‘Praise to God who took not a son…'—did I read that correctly?”

“You did.”

“God has no son, then?”

“Allah has spoken.”

“But Gilead Amahn preached to you that Jesus was indeed the Son of God and that He has the power to judge both the living and the dead?”

“The accused sitting there,” and with that the sheikh pointed through the glass booth to Gilead Amahn, “said we were to be judged by Jesus, and he said, ‘Woe to you false teachers of the law'—that is what he said.”

“But he also said that Jesus has the power to forgive and to save?”

“What is this you are saying to me? Do you provoke me?”

“Gilead came to you and preached Jesus the Christ, who died on the cross to cleanse us, all of us, from the stain of sin, the perfect Lamb to the slaughter. But you, as a Muslim, do not believe that. And so you were insulted—not threatened with destruction or violence—but your heart was troubled because of the preaching of this young man, like a sword into your soul. Right?”

The sheikh was silent, seething.

“For the Quran teaches that Jesus did not die on the cross—is that not correct?”

“The Quran teaches that Jesus the prophet did not die on the cross. But such sayings are only for the wise who can accept them. Not for the fools who cannot.”

“What were Gilead's last words to you that day, sheikh? What were they?”

“He condemned me to judgment and destruction!”

“Were those his last words?”

“Did I not already answer you?”

“Be very careful, sheikh,” Will now raised his hand up, holding a sheaf of papers. “I have the verbatim transcript from the recording of the meeting at the Islamic Center that day—do you need me to show you what Gilead Amahn actually said?”

Sheikh Mudahmid glared, his rage now barely contained.

“Are you threatening me, Mr. Chambers?”

“Only with the truth,” Will replied. “It is the only weapon I have.”

“And what truth would that be?”

“That Gilead said to you, and I quote—‘If you embrace Jesus the Messiah, His love is great enough to save you, Sheikh Mudahmid.' ”

The sheikh paused and raised his head, his gaze still locked onto Will's.

“It was said. You have read it. What more must we discuss? Why didn't this infidel go to those who wanted to hear such rantings? Go where he was welcomed…rather than where he was not?”

“Perhaps,” Will said calmly and quietly, collecting his papers from the podium, “because he felt that the sheep who have wandered are the ones most in need of being guided to the Great Shepherd.”

Samir Zayed leaped up and objected, moving to strike Will's last comment.

Judge Mustafa hastened to grant the objection, and then issued a stern warning to Will to “cease from any further intolerant religious sermonizing during this trial.”

Will, unperturbed, smiled, nodded in acknowledgment, and sat down.

Mira Ashwan rose and asked permission to question the witness as defense amicus curiae. The tribunal quickly granted her request.

“Sheikh Mudahmid,” she began, “you were not present at the destruction of the Noble Sanctuary on the so-called Temple Mount, were you?”

“No, I was spared having to witness that slaughter of my people.”

“You did not see, or hear, what Hassan Gilead Amahn did or said that day?”

“That is true.”

“Are you a scholar who has studied the history of the so-called Temple Mount in Jerusalem?”

“Yes.”

“On June 7, 1967, when the Israeli army forced its way into Jerusalem during the Six-Day War, was there a Jewish army rabbi who was with that army during its takeover of the so-called Temple Mount?”

“Yes, the history is very clear on that. I believe his name was Shlomo Goren. He was a general in the Israeli army and a rabbi.”

“What was his recommendation?”

“That the so-called Temple Mount area—the Muslim mosques, the Dome of the Rock—
that they all should be bombed and exploded to make way for the appearing of the Jewish Messiah.”

The sheikh's voice boomed throughout the courtroom.

“And did the military do that?”

“No…that one time the Israeli army did the correct thing. But, it does point out the obvious…”

“What is that?”

“That there has been a longstanding Jewish conspiracy to destroy the Muslim presence on what they claim is the Temple Mount.”

“Why do you say, ‘What they claim is the Temple Mount'?”

“Because I know there is no evidence of this mount being the site of the Jewish Temple of Solomon, which was rebuilt by Herod. No evidence—simply Jewish fables.”

“And in regard to this Jewish conspiracy to destroy the Muslim structures on top of the mount—Gilead Amahn is Arab, is he not—not a Jew?”

“That is correct, as I understand it.”

“So perhaps there was a Jewish conspiracy to destroy the Noble Sanctuary, but Gilead was simply not part of it?”

Will and Nigel Newhouse exchanged nervous glances. They both knew the dilemma they were facing. They did not want to divide the defense team by objecting to the questions of defense amicus curiae. On the other hand, Mira was venturing onto dangerous, speculative, and unproven ground.

“That is a possibility,” Sheikh Mudahmid said, “but there is another explanation.”

“What is that?”

“That such a conspiracy was larger than Mr. Amahn even knew himself—but he willingly allowed himself to be swept away in it.”

Mira sat down. Will jumped up to do damage control.

“What proof do you have—facts, witnesses, documents, names, dates—of any Jewish conspiracy to blow up the Temple Mount, other than what you have already said?”

The sheikh paused for only an instant.

“Sixty-seven years living on this earth, in this land, watching the persecution of my people by the nation of Israel.”

“In your sermons, you have said that ‘America is the beast of unrighteousness…and Israel is its whore.' Have you not?”

“I'm sure you have copies of my words…to try to trick me.”

“Other than your hatred for Israel, do have a single fact that establishes such a Jewish conspiracy?”

“I would have no hatred for Israel…if they would simply stop occupying our land and cease oppressing our people.”

“I will take that as a ‘no' to my question,” Will said, and then launched his final question.

“And as for your statement that the Temple Mount has no historical claim to be the site of the Jewish Temple, rather than boring this tribunal with hours of proof and thousands of historical records showing the contrary, let me simply end with this. Is it correct that even the Supreme Muslim Council, which controlled the Temple Mount plateau in the 1930s, issued a written description of that area attesting that ‘its identity with the site of Solomon's Temple is beyond dispute' and footnoting that with a reference to Second Samuel twenty-six, verse twenty-five?”

The sheikh was in no mood for further debate. So he glanced over at the judges, looked back at Will Chambers, and then answered diplomatically in a sudden exercise of restraint.

“They were mistaken.”

58

I
N THE ARTIFICIAL ENVIRONMENT
of an extended trial, Will had gained, through his years of trial practice, the knack of becoming comfortable in uncomfortable surroundings. He had been in the Middle East for weeks now. And the trial had been grinding on for days. The nights in his hotel room were never very long, and he was always short on sleep. The days were filled by droning hours of testimony, argument, and inevitable delays while waiting for a witness to arrive, some document to be located, or the personal schedules of the three judges to be accommodated.

At the end of each day in court, he had developed a familiar routine. He would get about an hour alone with his client in a small side room before the guards would whisk Gilead back to the jail. Will had learned the names of the guards, and Gilead was teaching him a few Arabic words, which he would use when he greeted them. They would usually laugh at his bad pronunciation, and that would break the tension a little bit.

Will's discussions with Gilead were more for his client's benefit than for the strategy of the case. Of course Will planned on calling his client during the defense case, and they often touched on that. But Will had decided that proving Gilead's lack of guilt would have to rest on more than simply the force of his client's insistence on his own innocence. It would have to rest on other facts, and other witnesses.

In the final minutes of each of those end-of-the day meetings, Gilead usually asked that his lawyer pray with him. And so they
would. The last time they were together, Will had closed in prayer and had found himself choking back emotion as he prayed for justice and protection for his client. It had just seemed to sweep over him suddenly, out of nowhere, and he was displeased that he had almost lost control with Gilead. He saw it as his job to be strong for his client—not to let his emotional attachment for this young man cloud his objectivity.

But with Will, the thought that this was not just a legal case but a life-and-death struggle would always rise to the top—like a desperate swimmer breaking to the surface, gasping for air.

One morning he was perusing one of the daily newspapers before dashing down to catch a cab to court, when a headline caught his eye. It said that the Palestinian Authority had finally decided on the form of death for Gilead Amahn in the event of his conviction. Under “great international pressure,” they had reluctantly decided to utilize lethal injection rather than the other proposed methods, which included beheading, shooting by firing squad, and hanging.

He had not had the heart to raise that issue with his client yet.

After his daily post-trial testimony conference with Gilead, Will would meet with Nigel, Tiny Heftland, and Mira Ashwan for dinner. The four of them would then dine together at one of the four restaurants they frequented in Jerusalem. Will's favorite was a steakhouse specializing in Argentinian beef, the others were Indian, Hunan, and Italian.

The four dinner companions would usually start out with small talk or personal things about friends, family, or pastimes. But the conversation would always drift back to the case. Will mildly scolded Mira for her examination of the sheikh, saying it laid “more potholes in the road than asphalt,” but Mira disarmed him by simply laughing at his illustration—forcing him, to the amusement of the others, to explain the process of asphalting roads.