Tyrants deserve hypocrisy. Render therefore unto Caesar the things which be Caesar's, and unto God the things which be God's. And what is yours, keep for yourself.
This reminds me of a story:
Nasrudin presented to Tamerlane a dish of eggplant. It was the authentic Imam Bayıldı, the delicate dish that had an Imam faint with pleasure, prepared - as they do it at Konya - in honour of the Great Emir and in sign of the profound love and respect of the Turkish people for the generous conqueror and destroyer of their country.
The cooks were lucky. Timur, who happened to be hungry, liked this course very much. He ate a second serving and said to the Hodja:
“Worm, this is delicious. How come I did not know it before?”
“Indeed, Master, said Nasrudin, it is the best thing we can eat in this world, a gift from Allah the All Beneficent. You did not savour it before because aubergines, the Indian “brinjal” were never cooked properly until we prepared them with Turkish skill and spice.”
“Let this be served as a standing dish for all my meals” decreed Timur impetuously.
This order was strictly followed for a couple of weeks, after which the Master of the Lucky Constellations felt that he could not take another bite of it, nor see it nor – worse – smell it.
“Enough!” roared he. “Never serve this again!”
“ I have heard an do obey Master, hastened Hodja. Indeed, for a monarch of your taste aubergines is an unworthy nutriment. Rather leave it to our enemies and to the poor.”
The Ruler turned a suspicious look towards Nasrudin:
“Aren’t you speaking one and other thing like a serpent with a forked tongue? A fortnight ago, did you not praise eggplants as the supreme food?”
“That is true. But I am serving the Emir, not the aubergines.”
Tyrants deserve hypocrisy. Render therefore unto Caesar the things which be Caesar's, and unto God the things which be God's. And what is yours, keep for yourself.
This reminds me of a story:
Nasrudin presented to Tamerlane a dish of eggplant. It was the authentic Imam Bayıldı, the delicate dish that had an Imam faint with pleasure, prepared - as they do it at Konya - in honour of the Great Emir and in sign of the profound love and respect of the Turkish people for the generous conqueror and destroyer of their country.
The cooks were lucky. Timur, who happened to be hungry, liked this course very much. He ate a second serving and said to the Hodja:
“Worm, this is delicious. How come I did not know it before?”
“Indeed, Master, said Nasrudin, it is the best thing we can eat in this world, a gift from Allah the All Beneficent. You did not savour it before because aubergines, the Indian “brinjal” were never cooked properly until we prepared them with Turkish skill and spice.”
“Let this be served as a standing dish for all my meals” decreed Timur impetuously.
This order was strictly followed for a couple of weeks, after which the Master of the Lucky Constellations felt that he could not take another bite of it, nor see it nor – worse – smell it.
“Enough!” roared he. “Never serve this again!”
“ I have heard an do obey Master, hastened Hodja. Indeed, for a monarch of your taste aubergines is an unworthy nutriment. Rather leave it to our enemies and to the poor.”
The Ruler turned a suspicious look towards Nasrudin:
“Aren’t you speaking one and other thing like a serpent with a forked tongue? A fortnight ago, did you not praise eggplants as the supreme food?”
“That is true. But I am serving the Emir, not the aubergines.”
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