Too Good too Stupid Noureddine Boutahar

I shared the proverb "I taught him archery every day... yet when his arm gained might, he aimed at me" on my Facebook page. The overwhelming response in likes and comments inspired me to create this article, drawing on Arabic resources from the Internet.

This particular proverb, well-known among Arabic-speaking intellectuals, is part of a poem with a captivating story behind it. The verses' attribution varies, with some crediting Malik ibn Fahm al-Azdi and others assigning it to Aws ibn Ma'n al-Muzani. The prevailing consensus in literary sources leans towards Ma'n ibn Aws al-Muzani as its originator.

Those linking the proverb to Malik ibn Fahm recount a tale of familial betrayal. Malik was a ruler presiding over a sprawling domain with his family at his side. Among his offspring, the youngest, Sulaimah, held a special place in his heart. Yet, within this familial tapestry, jealousy wove its treacherous threads. Driven by envy, Sulaimah's brothers deceitfully whispered accusations into their father's ears, alleging that Sulaimah neglected his guard duty. Eager to confirm these allegations, Malik, the concerned patriarch, stealthily approached to observe his son in action. Sensing an intruder, Sulaimah, with bow and arrow in hand, prepared to defend. In a heartbreaking twist, Malik's voice rang out in the darkness, pleading, "Don't shoot, I'm your father!" A fatal miscommunication followed, as Sulaimah responded with a tragic declaration: "Oh father, the arrow has reached its target." As he drew his last breath, his father uttered the now-famous verses:

 

Behold the irony of nurturing a child,
Feeding him with the delicate tips of my hand.
I taught him the art of archery every day,
Yet, when his arm gained might, he aimed at me.
The intricacies of verses I carefully taught him,
Only for his own rhyme to turn against me.
I nurtured him to embrace vitality,
Yet, when his mustache unfurled, he betrayed me.

...

The verses of this poignant poem reveal Malik's profound amazement and disbelief. He had invested his heart and wisdom in raising a child, imparting skills and knowledge, only to find himself repaid with the bitter currency of ingratitude.

The narrative brims with various themes, yet the verses resonate particularly among Arabic-speaking communities, serving as a poignant expression of disillusionment when kindness is met with harm. Similar English proverbs echo this sentiment: "Biting the hand that feeds you," "Don't throw pearls before swine," "Plant flowers in others' gardens, and your life becomes a bouquet of thorns," "The tree of kindness is often felled with the axe of ingratitude," and "The snake you charm today will bite you tomorrow."

I appreciate the phrase coined by the Shah of Iran: 'Ingratitude is the prerogative of the people.' It unfortunately suggests that a lack of gratitude is a trait often found in human nature. Some people take your kindness for granted, while others underestimate it. So, as the Russian proverb wisely advises, "Trust but check."