In second century Arabia, a raging feud was not limited to physical retaliation; it also included spiritual support from the local Kahin, a soothsayer of sorts who could conjure unspeakable horrors with a few rhyming couplets.

These seers, like the Greeks before them, gave their clients what they wanted through beautiful poetic verses that were impossible to disprove. They were essential to the dynamics of Arab tribal politics, neutral amid tribal tensions as they dispensed sound advice. Ancient Arabian mythology did not have a structural clergy, but these soothsayers were immensely respected in their domain.

The tradition of the Kahins made them vulnerable to history; their contributions were nearly lost with the passage of time until the wonderful collection of A Thousand and One Nights was luckily unearthed.

A Thousand and One Nights saved the Kahins from fading into obscurity. Soothsayers had lived in a world where they were treated as frauds from al jahiliyah, the time before Islam that was also known as the period of ignorance. The resurgence of traditionalist Islam had stressed the importance of hadiths like, “He who seeks omens or has omens interpreted for him is not from us; nor is he who practices fortune-telling or has his fortune told; nor he who practices sorcery and magic or goes to have it done for him; and whoever goes to a Kahin and believes in what he says has disbelieved in what was revealed to the Prophet Muhammad, may the peace and blessing of Allah be upon him."

The stories from A Thousand and One Nights gave Kahins mystifying powers that brought back their prominence through the form of fiction. An especially intriguing demon that Kahins could conjure was Al Nasnas, who was literally a man cut in half: half a face, half a heart, one leg and one arm. Al Nasnas was able to transcend reality to reach the dream world, killing people in their sleep if ordered by his masters to do so.

In the core class Life’s Ends, we took a field trip to visit the supposed realm of Um Dwais, a succubus-like demon that drew men into her lair before revealing her true form and killing them. The experience prompted me to think more about what kind of purposes these legends serve. Even to do this day, they still hold value in warning against dangers — among them, the rudeness of children. I remember my mom used to tell me never to shout at night lest the “people who live below us” rage at our loud noises.

Humarat al Ghayla, a mythical beast with either the head of a donkey or the hooves of a donkey, depending on who you ask, was said to roamed the streets in the hot afternoon looking for kids who didn’t heed the warnings of their parents never to hang out in the middle of the day. Any child the Humarat al Ghayla crosses paths with is never seen again.

So what do we draw from these assorted tales of monsters that threaten our livelihoods? It is essential to understand this startling world of Arabic folklore through the purpose it continues to serve: to ward off bad manners and to protect men against temptations and sin.

Author’s suggestions for further readings:

Pre-Islam Arabia by Shaikh Inayatullah

The Book of Imaginary Things by Jorge Luis Borges