I want to tell a story that happened in Iran, then called Persia, a thousand years ago. I also want you to know that I knew and loved this story and one of its protagonists decades before Imáms, Muslims, the Koran or Iran came to the foreground of the American consciousness. It seems that three boys came to study with the Imám Mowaffak, a revered and illustrious teacher of the Koran in Naishápúr. It was widely believed that "every boy who read the Koran or studied the traditions in his presence would assuredly attain to honor and happiness." The three boys, studying long and hard together, struck up a friendship. After some time one of them proposed that although it was unlikely that all three of them would "attain honor" and become successful, it was without a doubt that one of them would. They therefore agreed that whomsoever among them should come to fortune, he would share it equally with the other two, "and reserve no pre-eminence for himself."

They went their ways, and the years rolled by. Of the three, Nizám ul Mulk became vizier (administrator of affairs) to the Sultan of Persia, and eventually his two boyhood friends sought him out for their share in his good fortune. At the vizier’s request, the Sultan granted a position to Hasan bin Sabbáh, one of the other two, but Hasan was disgraced trying to replace his benefactor the vizier, and fell from office.

Hasan became leader of a sect of fanatics, and in 1090 gained control of the castle fortress of Alamut, known as "the eagle’s nest." Legend tells that he acquired the Alamut in bargaining with the owner by requesting only that portion of land that could be covered by the skin of a cow. Hasan then proceeded to divide a cow’s hide into such thin layers that he was able to cover the entire surface of the fortress, and the owner felt obliged to live up to his end of the bargain.

The amazing and compelling story of Hasan bin Sabbáh, who in fact assassinated his benefactor, is continued here, but let’s return now to the story of the third boy. He also sought out the vizier to claim his share, saying "The greatest boon you can confer upon me is to let me live in a corner under the shadow of your fortune, to spread wide the advantages of Science, and to pray for your long life and prosperity." When the vizier realized he was sincere, he gave Omar a yearly pension of 1200 mithkals of gold from the Naishápúr treasury, granting him financial independence for the rest of his life.

Hakim Omar Khayyám followed a Persian poetical tradition in that "Khayyám" was actually his Takhallus, or trade name, for "Khayyám" tells us that he was a tent-maker. (We have Archer, Baker, Smith, Fletcher, Mason and Miller in the West.) In any event, given the freedom conferred on him by the vizier, Omar Khayyám set about studying astronomy, algebra, and "knowledge of every kind." When the Shah decided to reform the calendar, Omar was one of eight employed to do so. The Jalali calendar they created, according to the historian Gibbon, surpassed the leap year Julian calendar, and approached in accuracy the Gregorian calendar created almost 500 years later and accurate to over one part in a million! He also made advancements in algebra and astronomy, and left the world with that great jewel of poetry, "The Rubáiyát."

One of the greatest men of science - and in general - of his era, Omar Khayyám died in Naishápúr in the year of the Hegira 517, A.D. 1123. He often held conversations in a garden with Khwájah Nizámi, a student from whom this last reference to him has been recorded. He told Khwájah, "My tomb shall be in a spot where the north wind may scatter roses over it." This confused the student, for although he greatly respected Omar, he knew that his words contradicted the Koran’s: "No man knows where he shall die." Many years later, after visiting Khayyám’s grave, the student recounted, "and lo! it was just outside a garden, and trees laden with fruit stretched their boughs over the garden wall, and dropped their flowers upon his tomb, so that the stone was hidden under them."