“Allah has promised the believing men and believing women gardens beneath which rivers flow, wherein they abide eternally.”
Qur’an 9:72
Introduction
The Muslim paradise is called Jannah ( جنّة), literally “garden.” Every time heaven is mentioned in the holy book of the Qur’an, it is described as flowing water and fruit-bearing trees. This is not surprising, as Islam originated in the desert, hot and arid lands. I would like to ignore the other attributes of al-Jannah, such as houris, splendid companions of equal age, lovely-eyed, and virgins, who will accompany the faithful. My only focus is on the scenery. Like Garden of Eden in the Bible, there are four rivers in Jannah, the Euphrates flows according to both books, but the other rivers are different, and they have a common source named Salsabil (سلسبيل).
Gardens were significant to Islam from its inception. The garden landscaping has a spiritual meaning that exceeds the human need for shade and water. They are perceived as places of rest and contemplation, an earthly equivalent of life in heaven. This metaphor reached its peak in Chahar-bagh (چهارباغ), where the garden was divided into four parts by water channels; the four water channels were the four rivers of paradise, with a fountain in the center of a pool representing Salsabil. I think that al-Jazari’s deep interest in fountains is related to the importance of gardens in Islam.
How does the fountain work?
The fountain of al-Jazari is installed in a pool. For an hour, the fountain shoots up from the main orifice, then for an hour it emits six curving jets from six nozzles, and the process repeats. Today it is a trivial task for any engineer, but in the 12th century, with no electronics or electric valves, it was almost a miracle. The technical explanation, as always, will be colored in blue, so anyone who is not interested in early control systems can skip those bits.
At some distance from the pool, al-Jazari built a high house into which the water flowed. This section does not appear in the drawing. The water from the high house flew into the copper bowl welded to a pipe with four openings. This is the same drawing as above, but with my captions.
At the bottom of the tilting pipe, al-Jazari welded a ring that is seated on an axle so that the pipe is like a kids’ seesaw. The right side is slightly heavier, and therefore it tilts to the right, and the water comes from both openings on the right. The main opening fills the tank, and the narrow pipe shoots the water up in the air. The secondary opening is much smaller, and it slowly fills the tipping bucket (in red). In the drawing, the tipping bucket is almost full. After one hour, the weight of the water at the front-end is heavy enough to make the tipping bucket swing, and the black rod will push the tilting pipe upward, so the seesaw will tilt to the left and water fills the other tank, the wide pipe around the narrow pipe, and comes out in six jets. The process repeats itself.
Banū Mūsā
Al-Jazari opens the fourth Category “On fountains which change their shapes at known intervals and on perpetual flutes” with a brief statement:
“I did not follow the system of the Banū Mūsā, may God have mercy upon them, who in earlier times distinguished themselves in the matters covered by these subjects.”
The Banū Mūsā brothers are the predecessors of al-Jazari and are important to understanding his work. Banū Mūsā, the sons of Moses, is the name shared by three scholars, brothers from the ninth-century, sons of Mūsā ibn Shākir, a Persian astronomer. At a young age, they join the famous House of Wisdom, a library and a translation center in Baghdad. It is known that the brothers wrote more than 20 books together, but most have been lost over the years. Their most famous book and only two copies survived is The Book of Ingenious Devices (كتاب الحيل Kitab al-Hiyal( which al-Jazari is referring. The book was commissioned by the Abbasid Caliph of Baghdad, Abu Jafar al-Ma’mun ibn Harun (786–833), who instructed the Banu Musa to acquire all the Hellenistic texts preserved during the decline and fall of Roman civilization. This rescue operation has cultural importance that far exceeds the current post. Some of the devices described in their Book were inspired by the works of Hero of Alexandria and Philo of Byzantium, as well as ancient Persian, Chinese, and Indian engineering. However, many of the other devices described in the book were original inventions by the Banu Musa brothers. Donald Hill, who translated this book, as well as al-Jazari’s book, wrote:
“The Banu Musa went “well beyond anything achieved by Hero or Philo.” Their preoccupation with automatic controls distinguishes them from their Greek predecessors, including the “use of self-operating valves, timing devices, delay systems, and other concepts of great ingenuity.”
The book describes the construction of 100 devices, including seven automatic fountains.
What is the Controversy?
Al-Jazari did not specify which fountain he was referring to, but he did write:
“They made the alternation [fountain water shapes] with vanes turned by wind or by water so that the fountains were changed at every rotation, but this is too short an interval for the change to appear [to the full effect]. Then in two designs they used a pipe like an almost horizontal balance arm. The water flowed through it …”
It is clear that this is the fountain he is referring to:

A fountain that alternates water shapes by use of a balance from
The Self-Changing Fountain of Banu Musa bin Shakir by Prof. Salim T S Al-Hassani
He concludes: ” I do not know whence this confusion [came], from the original or from the copy.”
For those who really want to dive into the details, you can see here the fountains of the Banu Musa. There could be no doubt that al-Jazari borrowed key concepts from the Banu Musa, including placing a narrow pipe within a wide one, the concept of two water tanks, and variable feeding over time. His main disagreement is over the control method. In his opinion, the intervals were too short, which could lead to erratic results. He’s probably right. Al-Jazari explains what’s wrong with the design, but the details are of little importance. The technology changed so dramatically that the historical techniques for controlling timing are only a curious puzzle of how we controlled timing before we had electronics and electric valves. However, curiosity and skepticism are the best guides for every engineer today, just as they were eight centuries ago.
Curiosity and Doubts
Anybody who taught high school or Bachelor’s degree in science or technology knows that academic success is no guarantee of curiosity, healthy doubts, or critical thinking in general.
Excellent students can answer exam questions but find it difficult to ask questions about a scientific paper or an engineering presentation to test whether the assumptions are robust, withstand rigorous evaluation, and whether there is an alternative explanation or another model. Many feel uncomfortable with the new requirements, which are very different from their previous school experience. In parentheses, as an educator, I have to say that this is not a decree of fate, and schools can do a lot, but that’s another discussion. My encounter with al–Jazari is limited to his book, but beyond his high engineering capabilities, it is clear he was curious and had a healthy measure of inquisitiveness and skepticism. He checked the water regulator attributed to Archimedes and found it insufficient; he read the Banu Musa and had his doubts regarding the control method. Beyond the benefit of the healthy engineering skepticism, as he adds question marks, I like him more.



