Leo Africanus: Blurring the Line Between Family and the Other

            Amin Maalouf’s Leo Africanus continually stresses the concept of common humanity underlying all cultures and social classes, and the absurdity of violating this humanity on the basis of conflicting identities.  For example, the narrator’s mother Salma is the free Muslim wife of Muhammad.  Originally, she is extremely resentful towards Muhammad’s mistress Warda, a Christian slave.  When both women become pregnant at the same time, a silent competition begins over who will bare Muhammad his first son.  One day after Muhammad parades them both through the streets, the women both collapse on the same bed and broke into laughter.  After this incident, “a certain bond developed which softened the rivalry between them” (Maalouf 8).  It is in subtle ways such as this that Maalouf seems to be suggesting that common human experiences, such as pregnancy, can bring us together despite differences in class or religion. 

            This message is also conveyed by the way the novel conveys the seeming pointlessness of fighting those with whom one shares a partial identity.  For example, under sultan Abu’l-Hasan people “were arrested because they had been denounced by some rival or even a jealous neighbor” (17).  The fact that neighbors, who share a common location at the least, would have each other arrested reveals the danger of living in any sort of fear culture.  When civil war breaks out over allegiance to the sultan, “sons killed fathers and brothers strangled brothers…neighbors suspected and betrayed each other” (19).  By including both external and civil war and tension between cultures and tension between family members, Maalouf causes us to question where we draw the line between the “other” and our own kin.  We are appalled by the thought of brothers betraying brothers, but at what point do we determine that someone is too “other” to deserve our loyalty and respect?