With great sadness, we report the death of Dr. Mohammed Al-Saadi. Mohammed passed away on Tuesday, April 8, after a long struggle with cancer. He is survived by his wife Susan and their son Sami.
At the time of his death, he was the last still-serving original member of the department, coming to Cal Poly Pomona when the department was founded in 1969. During his long and distinguished teaching career, he specialized in comparative politics (especially Europe and the Mid-East) and in international relations.
The following remarks were delivered by David Speak at Dr. Al-Saadi's funeral on April 12. Many were quite moved by them, and he was asked to repeat them at a memorial service on May 6. For those who did not get a chance to hear Dr. Speak on either of those occasions, and for those who would like to recall what he said, we post them here:
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{ Mohammed Al-Saadi was my colleague, my friend, my brother. I met him first in 1991 and since the Fall of
that year our offices have been only a few paces apart. For four years during that time I was
Mohammed’s Department Chair, so when he would go off on research trips to the
Middle East and discover at the last minute that he couldn’t make it back for
the first day—or the first week – of class, I would find a way to fill in. We served on committees together; we shared
dozens and dozens of department meetings, to discuss everything from the best
way to advise students to the best candidates to join the department
faculty. We talked about what it meant
to be a political scientist, a student of politics; what it meant to be an
educated member of a polity. Mohammed always made a contribution to those
conversations. Often we agreed but not
always, yet he was unfailingly polite. He chose his words carefully and, when he thought it appropriate, he voiced
his sentiments ardently.
One of the
things that Mohammed liked best about his academic service was his role as
advisor to the Political Science Club. Long before the current war in Iraq—on the heels of Desert Storm -- the
last US military involvement there, Mohammed was the instigator and facilitator
of Cal Poly Pomona’s Middle East Quarter --a special set of University-wide
events designed to raise awareness and inform the university community – and
the wider local community as well – about the area of Mohammed’s expertise, a
region of the world we all recognize as vital to the accomplishment of world
peace.
As Mohammed faced a series of health
setbacks in the last years of his life, he characteristically kept all of that
out of sight – he was always a very private person in many ways. He maintained a cheerful – now I would
characterize it as a stoic-- public face. Only when his health became seriously compromised was he willing to
share any of those challenges with the closest of his colleagues. Part of that was natural for him. Part of it, though, had a different source: I
believe that Mohammed could never imagine retiring from his position – from his
LIFE—at the university. He was a university professor. He was a university professor.
Of course that fundamental source of
identity was augmented by other roles: everyone around Mohammed knew of his joy when Susan entered his life. And no
one could fail to appreciate the absolutely effervescent tone his voice
would take on when he spoke of Sami. His
eyes would twinkle – his voice would
twinkle whenever the topic of Sami’s most recent accomplishments came up. Sami has been the light of his life these
last years.
I’m a political philosopher. I wrestle with folks like Socrates and Plato
in that office only a few steps down from Mohammed’s. The single most common example of a syllogism
– a kind of argument – is this (you’ve probably heard it):
All men are mortal.
Socrates is a man.
Therefore, Socrates is mortal.
Pretty simple and hard to argue with, right? Yet it contains one of the hardest facts for human
beings to confront: we are all mortal. We will all make the transition that Mohammed
made last month. It is a mysterious
transition, seen from only one side – absolutely confounding. But it’s important for us to remember this
afternoon that death is a part of – not apart from – life. Anyone
who knew Mohammed or visited his home knew that he not only lived, but he loved
life – he enjoyed life. In a very real sense his life is not
over. Look at his son, Sami. Mohammed’s smile lives on Sami’s face. Mohammed’s inspiration lives in his students’
accomplishments. Mohammed is here this
afternoon because we are here this afternoon. The boundaries between life and death are not so stark. Mohammed would want us to remember that and
to smile with him today. I’d like to finish with a few lines from the
13th century poet, Jalal al-Din Rumi:
look at love
how it tangles
with the one fallen in love!
look at spirit
how it fuses with earth
giving it new life!
why are you so busy
with this or that, or good or bad?
pay attention to how things blend
why talk about all
the known and the unknown?
see how the unknown merges into the
known
why think separately
of this life and the next,
when one is born from the last?
look at your heart and tongue:
one feels but deaf and dumb
the other speaks in words and signs
look at water and fire
earth and wind
enemies and friends all at once
the wolf and the lamb
the lion and the deer
far away yet together
look at the unity of this
spring and winter
manifested in the equinox
you too must mingle my friends
since the earth and the sky
are mingled just for you and me
Mohammed Al-Saadi’s life was
joined with ours – is joined with
ours. Let us celebrate that.
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