THEROAD

Muhammad Asad
1,lamlclook5ertice
I
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: ROAD
Asad
ISBN: 81-7231-160-5
Reprint Edition- 2004
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Tomywife
P O L A H A l D A
Who through ond odvice
gove50much of her wi5eheort tothi5 book
thot her oughttohove
thetitle pogetogether with l i
C O N E N S
Glossary
The Story of Story
I Thirst
11 Beginning ofthe Road
111 Winds
IV Voices
V Spirit and Flesh
VI Dreams
VII M(jway
VIII Jinns
' Persian letter
Dajjal
XI Jihad
XII EndoftheRoad
Jndex
pagexi
1
10
42
68
102
135
162
183
218
249
282
312
344
377
GLOSSARY

SPELLING has kept close as possible to the original
ciation, avoidil1g, at the same time, all signs and symbols which would
unnecessarily confuse the reader..Terms which occur in only
place and explained in the text have omitted
obiiyo- \vide, woollen cloak worn Arabs all their other gar
ments.
ogoy/ - voJuntary, irregular troops recruited from Central
service in Iraq, Syria and Jordan.
0/- - definite articJe 'the' used before nouns and names.
If the noun begins with the d, 11, t tJ1e / of 0/ is
'assimilated' in sound: e.g., Ad-Dawish, Az-Zuwayy.
cmil' - who holds authority', e.g., governor, ruler,
etc.
bodu) - beduin.
- 'in the of God'
- hooded cIoak worn North Arabs and Berbers.
d/IOII...; LatilHigged saiJing vesseJ largely used il1,the the
Persian Gulf and (mostly under the samhuk) in the Red Sea.
(Persian jarangi) - .
.fe//ah (pl. jellobln) - peasant farmer.
go//abiyya - long, shirt1ike tunic worn in Egypt and some other
countries.
/lOjj - piJgrimage to of the duties enjoined
Muslin1 and woman to undertake it.
- is making has made the pilgrimage to often
used as title.
/101'0111 - 'sanctuary', especially the Mosques of Medina
and Jerusalem. (Not confused with horiim, means 'for
bidden religion'.)

GLOSSARY
ltazrat - 1it., 'presence'; term of address roughly cquivalent to 'youlr .
Honour'.
- before of'. Frequently used in eonjunc-.
tion with the of ancestor, in wblch case the combinatiol1l
denotes family tbe of dynasty, e.g., Saud"
Rasbld.
igiil- ropelike headband encircling theArabian headeloth.lt is usu
ally made of pJain bIaek wooJ, but is sometimes threaded with
gilded silver
- '.vblte garment worn piJgrimage to
ikh",on - 'brethren', app1ied to beduins settJed and organized
Saud.
- 'Ieader'; partieuJarly applied to thc leader eongre
gational but to outstanding scholars earlier times
and to Jeader community.
inshiiAl/oh - 'God
- term of address used in Persian-speaking
tries.
jard - blanketlike woollen wrap worn in western Egypt and Libya.
- Holy War in defence Islam MusJim 1iberty.
jubba - wide, ankle-Iength mantle worn many eity
and most the in Egypt, Syria, (raq,

kajton - fitted gown worn throughout the Middle East under
jubba
kha/i/a - Iit., 'suceessor' 'vice-gerent'; usual1y denoting the head
the Muslim
khan - originally the title of lord; nowadays
widely used as honorifie designation in Afghanistan, ete.
kufiYYQ - men's headcloth.
maghrib - sunset.
marhaba - welcome.
mu'azzin - the time for
(pl. - who fights in jihiid.
- eJaborate pipe for smoking tobacco, in whieh the smoke is
fi1tered through water; in countries it is al50 called 'hookah'.
qodi - judge.
GLOSSARY
- coffec; in Arab countries often app1ied al50 to colfechouse
reception
ra.iaji/- the bodyguard5 king amir.
- the basic 5ilver coin in several Middle-Ea5tem countries.
sayyid-Iit., 'Iord'. Frequently used to denote descendant thc
Prophet.
sh'1rif- same above. In particular app/icd to certain u51im ruling
dynastie5; in thi5 book to Husayn, who ruled thc
from 1916 to 1924, and descendants, the present dynasties
Iraq and Jordan.
s/ll'1ykh -Iit. 'old title widely used10 dcnotc tribal
clueftain5 well as notables and (in Arabic-speaking countries)
:scholars.
shl'lyUkh - 'majestic plural' sha)'kh,' designation applied in
tral to the and, oc:casionaJ/y, to his grcate5t amirs.
sidi - colloquial lord' - term especially
in North
section, chapter, the which is divided into 114
;rUras.
- red, brim/es5 hat worn men over Levant.
- scholars, learned Especially applied religious
scholars. but often used also those leamed othcr branchcs
Ik.nowledge.
- rivcr vaJley dry river bed.
-intcrjection equivalent to used in direct address (e.g., sidi,
lord'; Al/dh, God').
zdlO11iya - lodge religious fraternity.
STORY OF STORY

STORY 1 going tell in this book is not the

autobiography of conspicuous for bls role in
public affairs; it is not narrative of adv.ellture - for
although strange adventures have
way, they were never than an accompaniment to
happening within it is not evcn the story of deli!Jerate
search for faith - for that faith over the years,
"vitbout any endeavour part to find it. storyis simply
t,he story of European's discovery of Islam and of his integra
l:ion within the Muslim community.
1 had never thought of writing it, for it had not occurred to
that life might of particular interest to anyone except
myself. But when, after absence of twenty-five years from the
'West, 1 to Paris and then to NewYork in the beginning
1952,1 was forced to alter this view. as Pakistan's Mini
:ster Plenipotentiary to the United Nations, 1 was natural1y in
the public and encountercd great deal of curiosity among
European and Arnerican friends and acquaintances. At first
they assumed that mine was the case of European 'expert'
ployed Eastern government for specific purpose, and
that 1 had conveniently adapted myself to the ways the
which 1 was serving; but wheo activities at the United Na
tions made it obvious that 1 ideotified rnyself oot merely
tionally' but also and intel1ectually with the political
and cultural aims of the world in general, they
somewhat perplexed. More and began to questioo
about past expericnces. to koow that very
early in life 1 had started career as foreign correspon
dent Cor Continental newspapers and, after several years of
tensive travels throughout the Middle East, had Mus
lim in 1926; that after conversion to Islam 1 lived Cor nearly
sixyears in Arabia and enjoyed the friendship of Ibn Saud;
that after leaving [went to India there met the great
1
2
Muslim poet-philosopher and spiritual father of the Palcist,liO
idea, Muhammad Iqbal. It was who soon to
give plans of travelling to Eastern Turkestan, aJld
Indonesia and to remain in India to help elucidate the intelloo:.
tual premises of the future Islamic state which was then hardly
more than dream in Iqbal's visionary mind. to Iqbal.
this dream represented way. indeed the ooly way, to revival
of the dormant hopes of Islam. the creation of political
tity of people bound together not descent but
their adherence to ideology. For years 1devoted
self to this ideal, studying, writing and lecturing. and in
gained something of reputation as interpreter of Islamic la'N
and culture. When Pakistan was established in 1947,1 was called
its Government to organize and direct Department of
Islamic Reconstruction, which was to elaborate the ideologicail,
Islamic concepts of statehood and community which the
newly political organization might draw. After t\VO years of
this extremely stimulating activity, 1 transferred to the Pakistall
Foreign Service and was appointed Head of the Middle East
Division in the Foreign Ministry, where 1 dedicated myself
strengthening the ties between Pakistan and the rest of the
lim world; and in due course 1 found myself in Pakistan's Mis..
sion to the United Nations at New York.
this poioted far than outward
tion of to uslim community in which
pened to live: it rather indicated wholehearted
transference of from cultural environment to
other, entirely different And this appeared very strange to
most of Westem friends. could not quite picture to
themselves how of Western birth and upbringing could
so fully, and apparently with mental reservations what
identified himself \vith the Muslim world; how it had
possible for to exchange his Western cultural for
that of Islam; and what it that had made him accept
ligious and social ideology which - they seemed to take for gran
ted - was vastlyinferior to European concepts.
Now why, 1 asked myself, should Western friends take
this so readily for granted? Had of them bothered
to gain direct insight into Islam - or ,vere their opinions based
the handful of cliches and distorted notions that had
3 STOR. STOR.
handed down to them from previous generations? CouJd it
perhaps that the old Graeco-Roman mode thought which
divided the world into Greeks and Romans side and
barians' the other wa5 5till 50 thoroughly ingrained in the
Westem mind that it was unabIe to concede, even theoretically,
positive value to anything that lay outside its own cultural-orbit?
Ever since Greek and Roman European thinkers and
hiistorians have prone to contemplate the history of the
from the standpoint and"in terms of history and
'Westem cultural experieoces alone. Non-Westem civilizations
enter the picture only in so far their exis1ence, particular
roovements within them, have or had direct infiuence the
clestinies of Western and thus, in Western eyes, the history
ofthe world and its various cultures amounts in the last resort to
Iitt1e than expanded history of the West.
Naturally, such narrowed angle vision is bound to produce
distorted perspective. Accustomed as is to writings which
depict the culture or discuss the probIems of his own civilization
in great detail and in vivid colours, with litt1e than side
g1ances here .and there at the rest of the world, the average
JEuropean or American easily succumbs to the iIlusion that the
experiences ofthe West merely superior but out
I:)f proportion to those of the rest of the world; and thus, that
1the Westem way of is the only va1id which other
'ways of could adjudged - implying, of course, that every
iintellectual social institution or ethical valuation that
disagrees with the Western belongs ::;. ipso to lower
:gradeofexistence. Following in the of Greek$ and
Romans, the Occidentallikes to think that all those 'other' civili
zations are or were only so stumb1ing experiments the
path of progress so unerringly pursued the \Vest; or, at best
(as in the case of the 'ancestor' civilizations which preceded that
of the modern West in direct line), more than consecutive
chapters in and the same book, of Westem civiliza
tion is, of cour5e, the final chapter.
When 1 expC'unded this view to cin American friend of mine
considerable intellectual attainments and scholarly
bent of mil1d - \vas somewhat sceptical at first.
'Granted,' said, 'the ancient Greeks and Romans lim
ited in their approach to foreign civilizations: but was not this
4 ROAD
limitation the inevitable difficu1ties ofcommunication
between them and the reSt ofthe wor1d? And has not this diffi
cu1ty 1arge1y overcome in modern times? Afterall, we Wes
temers do ourselves nowadays with what is going
outside our own cu1tural orbit. Aren't you forgetting the
books ahout Orientalart pbl10sophy that been
lished in Europe and America during t11e 1ast quarter-century
... about the politica1ideas that preoccupy the minds of
peop1es? Sure1y one cou1d not with justice over100k this desire
the part of Westerners to understand what other
might to offer1'
extent you right,' 1 replied. 'There is littlle
doubt that the primitive Graeco-Roman out100k is 10nger
fully operati.ve these days. 1ts harshness has considerabIly
blunted - if for other because the mature amorlg
Western thinkers grown disi11usioned and sceptica1 abolJt
aspects of their own civilization and begin to 100k to
other parts of the wor1d for cu1tura1 inspiration. Upon some
them it is dawning that there not book and
story of human progress, but simp1y because mankind, in
the historica1 is not homogeneous entity, but rather
variety of groups with wide1y divergent ideas as to the
and purpose of human life. 1 do not fee1 that the West has
really. 1ess condescending toward foreign cu1tures than
the Greeks and Romans were: it has to1erant.
Mind not toward Islam - to\vardcertain other Eastern
which offer some sort of attraction to the
spirit-hungry West and at the same time, too distant frOJD
the Westem wor1d-view to constitute challenge to it.s
va1ues.'
'What do you that?'
'Well: 1 answered, 'when Westerner discusses, say, Hindu
. ism or Buddhism, he is always conscious of the fundamenta1
ferences bet\veen these ideo10gies and his own. admil'e
this or that oftheir ideas, but \vou1d naturallynever consider tb,e
possibility of substituting them for his own. Because
admits this impossibi1ity, is to contemp1ate such really
alien cu1tures with equanimity and often with sympathetic
preciation. But when it comes to Islam - which is meaD,S
as to Western va1ues Hindu or Buddhist phi10sophv
STOR OF STOR 5
thiis Western equanimity is almost invariably disturbed
bias. Is it 1 sometimes wonder, tlle
values of Islam close enough to those the West to consti
tute potential challenge to many spiritual
arnd social lifel'
And 1 went to tell him theory w!1ich 111ad conceived
years ago - theory that D1ight perhaps help one to
stand better the deep-seated prejudice against Islam 50 often to
found in Western literature and contemporary thought.
find truly convil1cing explanation this prcjudice,' 1
has to look back\vard into history and try to
prehend the p5ychological background the ear1icst relations
between the Western and the Musiim worlds. What Occidentals
tJ1ink and about Islam today i5 rooted in impressions that
V\rere born during the Crusades.'
Crusades!' exclaimOO friend. 'You don't to say
tbat what nearly thousand years ago cou1dstil1 have
efl'ect the twentieth century 7'
'But it does! 1 know it sounds incredible; but don't you
rnember the incredu1itywhich greeted the early the
psychoanalysts when they triOO show that much of the
tionallife mature person - and most those seemingly
accountable leanings, tastes and prejudices comprised in the
t:erm "idiosyncrasies"- traced back to the experiencesofhis
most formative age, his early chi1dhood7 Well, are nations and
c:ivilizations anything but collective individuals 7 Their develop
ime'nt also is bound with the their early chi1d
As with children, those experiences plea
unpleasant; they have perfectly rational
altematively, due to the child's naive misinterpretation an
event: the mou/ding effect every such depends pri
marily its original intcnsity. century inunediately pre
ceding Crusades, thnt i:i, the end the first millennium
the Christian cra, might well described as tlle early childhood
Western civilization ... '
1 proceeded to remind friend - himself historian - that
tbls had been the age when, for the first time since the dark cen
turies that followed the breakup oflmperial Rome, Europe was
beginning to its own cultural \vay. Independent1y the al
most. forgotten Roman heritage, raew literatures were just then
6 ROAD
coming into existence in the vernaculars; inspired!
the religious experience of Western Christianity, arts \\rere
slowly awakening from the lethargycaused the warlike migra
tions of the Goths, Huns and Avars; out of conditions
of the early Middle Ages, new cultural \vorld was emerging. It
was at that critical, extremely sensitive stage of its development
that received its most formidable shock - in modern
'trauma' - in the shape the Crusades.
Crusades were the strongcst collecti\'e impression
civilization that had just begun to conscious itself.
ically speaking, they represented Europe's - and entirely
successful - attempt view jtself under the aspect of cultural
unity. Nothing that has experienced bcfore after
could with the enthusiasm which First Crusa.de
brought into being. wave intoxication swept over the
tinent, elation which the first time overstepped the barriers
between states and tribes and classes. Before then, there
Franks and Saxons and Germans, Burgundians and Siciliarls,
Normans and Lombards-a medley of tribes and races with
anything in but the fact that most tlleir
kingdoms and principalities were the Roman Empire
and that of them professed the Christian faith: but in the
Crusades, and through the religious bond w'as elevated
ne\V cause to Europeans alike - the
tico-religious concept 'Christendom', whicll in its turn ga,'e
birth to the cultural concept When, in his famous
speech at Clermont, in November, 1095, Urban II
horted the Christians to make \var the 'wicked that
he1d the Land, enunciated - without knowing
it himself - the charter of Western civilization.
traumatic cxperience the Crusades gave i15 cul
tural awareness and its unity; but this same experience was des
tined henceforth also to provide the false in which Islam
was to to Western eyes. Not simply because the Crusade:s
rneant war and bloodshed. So \\'ars have waged 00
tween nations and subsequently forgotten, and so animos
ities which in their time seemed ineradicable have later turnecl
into friendships. caused the Crusades was not
restricted to c1ash of weapons: it \vas, first and foremost,
intcHectual damage - the poisoning of the Western mi.nd against
STORY STORY 7
th'e Muslim world through deliOOrate misrepresentation of the
teachings and ideals of For, if-the for crusade was to
maintain its validity, the Prophet of the Muslims had, of neces
sit:y, to stamped as the Anti-Christ and bls religion depicted
in the most lurid terms as fount of irnmorality and perversion.
It was at the time of the Crusades that the ludicrous notion that
Is:lam was religion of crude sensua1ism and brutal violence, of
observance of ritual instead of purification of the heart,
tered the Western mind and remained there; and it was then that
tlle of the Prophet Muhammad - the same Muhammad
w:ho had insisted that bls own followers respect the prophets of
ol.her religions - \vas contemptuously transformed Euro
into 'Mahound'. age when the spirit of independent
inquiry could raise its head was as yet Car distant in Europe; it
was easy for the powers-that-were to sow the dark seeds
hatred for religion and civilization that was so different
thle religion and civilization ofthe West. it was accident
thlat t}le fiery de Roland, wblch describes legendary
victory of Christendom over the Muslim 'heathen',in southem
was not at the those but three
later - to wit, shortly before the First Crusade -
to kind of'national ofEurope; and
it is accident, either, that tbls warlike epic marks the OOgin
of literature, as distinct the earlier, 10cal
iz:ed literatures: for hostility toward stood over the cradle
El1ropean civilization.
It would seem irony of history that the age-old Western re
s<:ntment against wblch was religious in origin, should
sljl1 persist subconsciously at time when religion has 10st most
of its hold the imagination of Westem howevet, is
not really surprising. We know that person
lose the religious beliefs imparted to him in his childhood wblle,
nevertheless, particular connected with those 00
liefs remains, irrationally, in force throughout his later Hfe - .
- and tbls,' I concluded, 'is precisely what happened to that
collective personality, Western civilization. shadow ofthe
Crusades hovers over the West to day; and its reactions
toward Islam and the Muslim world distinct traces of that
die-hard ghost ... '
friend remained silent for long time. 1 sti1l see his
8
tall, Ianky figure pacing and down the bls hands in his
coat pockets, shaking his head as if puzzled, and finaBy saying:
something in what say ... indeed,
although 1 not in position to judge "theory"
offhand . .. But in any the light what yourseIf
have just told don't reaIize that 1ife, to
seems so very simple and uncomplicated, very
strange and unusual to Westerners? Could not perhaps
share some of own experiences with Why don't
write your autobiography? 1 sure it would make fascinating
reading!'
Laughingly 1rep1ied: 'WeB, 1might perhaps let myself
suadcd to Ieave the Foreign Service and write such book. Aftc:r
writing is originaI profession ... '
In the follo\ving weeks and months joking response imper
ceptibly lost the aspect joke. 1began to tblnk serio.usly about
setting down tlle story and thus helping, in however
small measure, to Iift the heavy veiI which separates Islam
its culture the Occidental mind. way to IsIam had
in respects unique: 1 had not Muslim because 1
had lived for long time among Muslims - the contrary, 1
decided to live among them because 1 had embraced Islam.
Might 1 communicating very personal experiences to
Western readers, contribute to mutual understanding
tween the Islamic and Westem worlds than 1 could ..
uing in diplomatic position which might filled equaIly weH
other countrymen After alI, any
could Pakistan's Minister to the United Nations - but ho",r
were to talk to Westemers about Islam 1
could? 1 was Mus1im- but 1was also of Western origin: and:
thus 1 could speak the intelIectual languages both Islam and
the West ...
And so, toward the end of 1952, 1 resigned from the Pakistan
Foreign Service and started to write this book. Whether it is as
'fascinating reading' as American friend anticipated, 1
not say. 1 could do more than try to retrace from memory
with the help of fe\vold notes, disjointed and
some the ne\vspaper articles 1had written at the time - the 18n
gled lines development that stretched over years and
over vast expanses geographical space.
STORY OF STORY 9
And here it is: not the story of 1 l life, but only of the
1 left for Ir.dia - those exciting ycars in
travels through almost the countries bctwecn the Libyan
and the snow-covered peaks of the Pamirs, bet\vecl1 the
Bosporus and the Arabian Sea. lt is told in tl1e contcxt and, it
should kept in mind, 1 1 tl,e !el'e! of last desert journey
from the interior of Arabia to in the late summer of 1932:
f : it was during those twenty-three days tllat the pattern of
fuHy apparent to myself.
1 Arabia dei')icted in the f01l0wing pages 110 longer exists.
lt8 80litude and integrity crumbled under strong gush of
oil and the gold that the oil has brought. its grcat simplicity has
vanished and, with it" that \as humanly unique. lt is with
ttle pain feels for something precious, now irretrievably 105t,
that 1remember that J,ast, long desert trek, when we rode, ,
two two dromedaries, through swirnming 1ight ...
1
THIRST
-1
W
E two two dromedaries, the
sun flames over our heads, everything is shimmer
and glimmer and swimming light. Reddish and
orange-coloured dunes, dunes behil1d dunes beyond
dunes, loneliness burning si1ence, and two two
dromedaries in that swinging gait which makes you sleepy,
that you forget the day, the sun, the hot wind and the 10ngway.
Tufts of yellow grass grow sparsely the crests of the
and and there hamdJ, bushes wind over the sand
like giant snakes. Sleepyhave the senses, you rocking
in the saddle, you perceive hardly anything beyond the crunching
of the sand under the camels' soles and the rub of the saddle-peg
against the crook of your knee. our face is wrapped in
headcloth for protection against sun and wind; and you feel as if
you were carrying your like tangible substance"
across it, right across it .. to the wells of ... to
dark wells of that give \vater to that is thirsty ...
' ... right across the Nufud to .... 1 voice, and
do not know whether it is dream-voice the voice of

'Didst thou say something, Zayd l'
'1 was saying,' replies 'that not people
would venture right across the Nufud just to see the wells of
...'
ZAYD AND I retuming Qasr Athaymin the
Najd-Iraq frontier where 1went at the request of Ibn Saud.
accomplished mission and with plenty of leisure
time at disposal, 1 decided to visit the remote, ancient oasis
ofTayma, ncarly two hundred miles to the southwest: the
of the Old Testament of which Isaiah said, inllabitants of
10
) )
THIRST
land of brought water to him that was thirsty: The
abundance of water, its huge wells which have like
il:1 Arabia, p,ade it in pre-Islamic days great centre of
trade and seat of early Arabian culture. l have long wanted
to see it; and disregarding the circuitolls caravan routes, we
struck, from Athaymin, right into the heart of the Great
Nufud, the reddish sand desert that 5tretches itself 50 rnightily
tletv.'een the higb.lands of Central Arabia and the Syrian Desert.
is track and path in this part of the tremendous
'tvasteland. wind sees to it tl1at foo15tepof or animal
leaves lasting trace in the soft, yielding sand and that land
Inark stands out for long to guide the wayfarer's Under the
sttokes of the wind the dunes incessantly change their outlines,
flowing in 510w, imperceptible movement from forrn forrn,
Jlillsebbinginto valleys and valleys growing into newhills dotted
'N'ith dry, grass that faintly rustles in the wind and is
bltter as ashes even to camel's mouth.
Although 1have crossed this desert times in direc
1 would not trust myself to find way through it
aided, and therefore 1 glad to have Zayd with
try here is his homeland: belongs to the tribe of Shammar,
who live the southem and eastem fringes ofthe Great Nufud
and, when the heavy winter rains suddenly transfonn the
dunes into lush meadows, graze t4eir came1s in its midst for
Jrew months ofthe year. moods of the desert are in Zayd's
IbJood, and his 00815 with them.
Zayd is probably the handsomest 1 have ever kno\\'n:
Ibroad of forehead and slim of body, middle-sized, fine-boned,
ofwiry strength. Over.the narrow wheat-coloured face with
iits strongly moulded cheekbones and the severe and at the
time sensual mouth that expectant gravity \vhich i5 so char
acteristic of the desert Arab - dignity and self-composure wed
,dedto intimate sweetness. is felicitous combination of pur
lest beduin stock and Najdi town life, having preserved within
himself the beduin's surel1:;SS' instinct \vithout the beduin's
,emotional ]ability, and acquired the practical wisdom of the
townsman \vithout falling prey to his \vorldly sophistication.
1ike myself, enjoys adventure \vithout running al'ter it. Since his
earliest youth his life has been fillt:d \\'ith incident and excite
ment: as boyish trooper in thc levicd
I
]2
ROAD
the Turkisb government for its campaign in the Sinai Peninsula
during the Great War; defender of his Shammar
against Ibn Saud; arms-smuggler in the Persian Gulf; tempes
tuous ]over ofmany women in parts ofthe wor]d
of them, ofcourse, legitimately married to at time
other, then as ]egitimate]y divorced).; horsetrader in Egypt;
so]dier of fortune in Iraq; and lastly, for nearly five years,
companion in
And now, in this late summer of 1932, we ride togetber, as 80
often in the past, winding our lonesome way between dunes,
stopping at or another of tbe widely wel1s and restil1lg
at nigtJ,t under the stars; the etemal SJViS/I-swish of tbe animals'
feet over the bot sand; sometimes, during tbe Zayd"s
husky voice ehanting in rbytbm witb the eame1s' tread; nigllt
eamps, eooking coffee and rice and occasional wild game; thle
s\veep of wind over our bodies as we at nigbt th,e
sand; sunrise over sand red and violently bursting
fireworks; and sometimes, like today, tbe miracle oflife awaking
in plant tbat bas watered
We had stopped for our prayer. As 1 wasbed hands.
face and feet from watersldn. few drops over dried,
up tuft of grass at feet, miserable little plant. yeHow
withered and lifeless under the harsh rays of the sun. But as the
water triekled over it. shiver went througb the shrivelled blades
and 1'5aw how they 510wly. tremblingly, unfolded. few
droj)s, and tbe little blades moved and curled and tben straigbt
ened 1beIJ1selves slowly. hesitantly, tremblingly ... 1 beld
breatb as 1poured more water over tbe grass tuft. It moved morl;"
quiekly, more violently, as if some hidden foree were pushing it
out of ir5dream of deatb. Its blades - wbat deligbt to behold!
- contracted and expanded like tbe arms of starfish, seemingly
overwhelmed but irrespressible delirium, real little
orgy of sen5ual joy: and thuc; life re-entered vietoriously what
moment ago had as .dead. entered it visibly. passionately.
overpowering and beyond understanding in its majesty.
Life in it5 majesty ... alwaY5 feel it in tbe desert.
it is 50 diffi.cult to keep and 50 hard. it is always like gift.
treasure. and surprise. For the desert is always surprising, ever.l
tbough you have kno\vn it for years. Sometimes. when you
think you see it in its rigidity and emptiness. it awakens
13
its dream, sends forth its breath - and tender, pale-green
grass stands suddenly where yesterday there was nothing
but sand and splintery pebbles. It sends forth its breath again
flock of smal1 birds flutters through the air - from where?
vvhere to? - Iong-winged, emerald-green; or
swarm of rises the earth with rusl1 and zoom,
grim and endless like horde of hungry warriors ...
Life in its majesty: majesty of sparseness, surprising:
Iies the whole nameless scent of Arabia, of sand deserts
11ike this of the other changing landscapes.
Sometimes it is lava ground, black and jagged; sometimes
dunes without end; sometimes Ivadi between rocky hiHs, cover
1::<1 with thornbushes out of which startled hare jumps across
your \... sometimes loose sand with tracks of gazelles
few. fire-blackened stones over which long-forgotten wayfarers
cooked their in long-forgotten days; sometimes village
neath palm trees, and the wooden wheels over the weI1s make
music and sing to without stopping; sometimes well in the
midst of desert vaIley, \vith beduin herdsmen bustling around
it to water their thirsty sheep - they chant in
while the water is drawn in large leather buckets poured
with rush into leather troughs to the de1ight of the excited ani
mals. Then again, there is in steppes overcome sun
without mercy; patches of hard, yeIlow grass and leafy bushes
that crawl over the ground with snakybranches offer we1come
pasture to your dromedaries; solitary acacia tree spreads its
branches \vide against the steel-blue sky; [rom between earth
mounds and stones appears, eyes darting right and left, and then
vanishes like ghost, the gold-skinned lizard which, they
never drinks water. In hol1owstand black tents of goat hair;
herd ofcamels is being driven homeward through the afternoon,
the herdsmen -ride barebacked young came}!i, and when they
their animals the silence of the land sucks in their voices and
swallows them without .
Sometimes see glimmering shadows faron the horizon:
are they clouds? float 10w, frequently changing their colour
and position, now grey-brown mountains - but in
the air, somewhat above the horizon - and now, for the
\vorld to see, shady groves of stone pines: but - in the air. And
when tlley do\vn lo\ver and change into lakes and flowing
14 ROAD
rivers which quiveringly reflect the mountains ar:td the trees in
their inviting waters, suddenly recognize them what they
blandishment of the jinns, the mirage that has so often led
travellers to false hopes and 50 to perdition: and hand goes
involuntari1y toward the water5kin at saddle ...
there nights of other dangers, when the tribes
in warlike commotion and the traveller does not 1ight fire wblle
camping 50 as not to the distance, 5it5 wble
awake through long his bet\veen the knees. And
those daY5 of when after long, lonely wandering
meet and listen in the evening to the talk ofthe grave,
sunbumed around the campfire: they talk of the simple,
great things of life and death, of hunger and satiety, of pride and
love and hatred, of the lust of the ftesh and its appeasement, of
wars, of the palm groves in the distant village - and
idle babbling: in the desert ...
And the of Hfe in the days of thirst, when the tongue
sticks to the palate 1ike piece of wood and the horizon
sends deliverance but offers flaming wind and \vhirling
sand instead. And in different days, when guest itl
beduin tents and the bring bowls of milk-the milk
of fat she-eamels at the of spring, when after strong
rainfaUs the steppes and dunes gceen as garden and the
mals' udders and round; ofthe tent
the women laugh while they sheep in
fire.
.' Like red metal the sun disappears behind hIOs; higher than
anywhere else in the world is the starry sky at night, deep and
dream1ess sleep the stars; pale-grey
the mornings. Cold the nights in winter, biting winds flap
against the campfire around wblch companions
-huddle together in search of warmth; burning the days in sum
ride, ride rocking dromedary through
endless face muffled in headcloth to protect it
the searing wind, senses lulled into sleepiness, while
blgh aboveyouinthe noonheata ofpreydraws its circles ...
-2
GLIDES slowly past us with its dunes, and
its si1ence, its loneliness.
IS
After while, the IoneIiness is broken group of beduins
cross our path- four five and two women - mounted
dromedaries, with beast of burden carrying folded
black tent, cooking-pots and other utensils of nomad life, with
oouple of children perched top of it As they
they reii1 in their animals:
with
we answer: 'And with and the grace of
(iod.'
'Wbat is destination, wayfarers
insha-A//a/l.'
'And whence l'
'From Qasr Athaymin, brothers,' 1 reply; and then there is
siIence. of them, gaunt, elderly with sharp face and
black, pointed beard, is obviously the leader; his glance also is
black and pointed when, passing over it rests suspiciously
the stranger oflight complexion who has so
appeared from nowhere in this pathless wilderness; stranger .
\"I{ho says is coming from the direction of British-held Iraq,
a.nd might welI (1 almost read Sharp-Face's thought)
iJafidel surreptitiously entering the land of the Arabs. old
hand plays, as if in perplexity, \vith the of his
saddle while hispeople, now loosely grouped around us,
viously wait for to speak. After few seems to
to bear the silence longer, and asks
'Of\vhich Arabs art thou?' - mean.;ng to what tribe region
1 belong. But before 1 to reply, his features light
in sudden smile of reoognition:
1 know thee now! 1 thee with Abd al-Aziz! But
that was Iong ago - four Iong years ago ...'
And stretches his hand in friendliness toward and
<:alIs the time when 1was living in the royal castle at Riyadh and
11e came there in the retinue of Shammar chieftain to the
I'espects of the tribe to Ibn Saud, whom the beduins always
his first Abd without formal,
titIe: (or in their free humanity they see only in the King,
to honoured, doubt, but not beyond the deserts of
And so we go for while reminiscing, speaking of this
and that, exchanging anecdotes about Riyadh, in and around
'N'hich to thousand guests live daily off the bounty,
receiving departure presents that var) in accordance with
16 ROAD
man".s status - from handfuJ ofsiJver coins or to
the heavy purses of goJden sovereigns, horses or dromedariies
wmch he frequentJy distributes among the cbleftains.
the generosity is so matter ofthe
heart. Perhaps than anything else, it is his wanntb
of feeling that makes the around not exceptiog
self, love
In years in Ibn Saud's friendship has lain like:
warm shimmer over
calls his friend, although is k.ing aod I jour
nalist. Aod I friend - merely througib.
out the years that I have lived in ms realm has shown
friendliness, for that shows to 1
friend because bls inncrmost thoughts
his to others. 1love to call
friend, for, despite his faults - and there not few of
them - is excecdingly good Not just 'kindhearted':
for kindness of heart sometimes thiog. As
wou1d admiringly say of old Damasceoe blade that it is
'goOO' weapon it the qua1ities cou1d
from weapon of its kind: thus do 1 consider Ibn Saud good
is rounded within himself and always fol1ows own
path; and if often errs in his actions, it is because never
tries to anything mmself.
FIRST with a1-Aziz ibn Saud took
placc at early in 1927, few months after conversion
to !slam.
recent sudden death of who had
this, first, pi1grimage to had made bitter
aod unsocial. 1 was desperately striving to out of dark
ness and utter deso!ation. Most of was spent in 100
gings; 1 had contact with only few and for weeks 1
avoided the customary courtesy the
day, whi1e visitiog of Ibn Saud's foreign guests-it was, 1 re
Hajji Agos Sa1imoflodonesia - 1was informed that
orderof the had entered guest list!
seemed to apprised of the reason of reservl!:
and to accept it withsilent understanding. And 50, guest wh()
17
had yet seen the of his host, 1 moved into beautiful
at'the southern end of near the rocky gorge through
which the way to passes. From the terrace 1 could see
Ialrge of the city: the minarets of the Great
thousands of white of houses with roof balustrades of col
oured bricks, and the dead desert hills domed skies that glared
like liquid metal.
Still, 1 might gone postponing the
had it not for 'with Arnir Faysal, his
son, in library under the of the Mosque.
was pleasant to sit that long, narrow room
old Arabic, Persian and Turkish folios; its stillness and dar'<ness
with day, however, the usual was
broken the swishing entry of group of preceded
armed bodyguards: it was Amir Faysal with his retinue passing
through the library his way to the was taH and
t.bin and dignity far beyond his twenty-two years and his
In spite his youth, had given the im
position viceroy of the Hija. after his father's
the country two earlier (Itis elder brother, Crowl1
Saud, was viceroy of Najd, while the King himself spent
llalf the in the capital the and the
half in the Najdi Riyadh).
librarian, young scholar with whom 1 had
f"riendly for 1ntroduced Prince. shook
118nds with and when 1 bowed to him, lightly tipped
Ilead back with fingers and face Iit in warm sm.ile.
'We people of Najd do not be1ieve that should bow 00
should bow only before God in prayer.'
to kind, dreamy and little reserved and
impression which was confinned during the later years of
acquaintance. His air of nobility was not assumed; it seemed to
glow from within. When we spoke t() other that day
Ithe library, 1 suddenly felt strong desire to meetthe father of
Ithis son.
King would to see thee; said Amir Faysal.
'Why dostthou shun him?'
Al1d the next morning the amir's secretary fetched in
automobile and took tn King's palace. We passed
through the bazaar street of AI-Maala, slo\vly making our way
18
through throng c:amels. beduins and auctioneers
seI1ing aIl of beduin wares- camel-saddles.
waterskins, swords, and hrasscoffeepots
then through wider. quieter and more and finaJly
reachedthe huge in wblchthe resided. saddEed
camels filled the space beCore it, and number
slaves and 10unged about the stairway. 1 w'as
made to wait in spacious, pillared room whosefioor was lalid
withinexpensive Broad, khaki-covered divans ran al0t:lg
the walls, and green leaves could seen through the windows:
the of garden wblch \vas being grown w.th great
difficulty out of arid soil of black slaveappeared.
invites thee.'
1entered room like the 1had just left, exceptthat it WIIS
rather smaller and lighter, side opening fully onto the gar
den. Rich covered the fioor; in ,vindow
overlooking garden the sat cross-legged divan; at
bls feet the fioor secretarywas taking dictation. When 1
tered, the rose, extended both hands and said:
wa-sahlan' - 'Family and plain' - wblch 'You
havenowarrivedwithinyour fam.ily and your foot tread
an the most ancient and most gracious of
expressions of welcome.
For just second 1 was to gaze in wonderment at
Saud's gigantic height. When then a\vare of the Najdi
tom) 1Iight1y kissed the tip ofhis noseand bls forehead, 1had to
stand toes despite six feet, wblle had to bend bl.s
head dO\\'D.ward. with an apologetic gesturein the direc
tion of the secretary, sat down. pulling to his side the
divan.
'Just minute, the letter is nearly finished.'
Wbile quietly continued to dictate, also-opened
versationwith never confusing the two themes. Mter fe,,'
formal sentences, 1handedhim letter of introduction. reac!
it - whichmeant doingthree things at - and then, withou1;
interrupting bls dictation or his inquiry after welfare, called,
for coffee.
that time 1 had had opportunity to observe him more:
closely. wasso well proportioned that bls hugesize- must
havc at least sa and half feet - apparent
OPPOSITE: A-uthor (1932)

THIRST 19
when stood. His face, framed in the traditional red-and-wblte
checked kufiyya and topped gold-threaded igal, was strik
ingly virile. wore his beard and moustache clipped short in
Najdi fashion; his forehead was broad, his nose strong and aqui
and his full mouth appeared at times almost feminine, but
without being soft, in its sensual tenderness. Whi1e spoke, his
features were enlivened unusual mobility, but in repose his
face was somehow sad, as if withdrawn in inner loneliness; the
deep setting ofhis eyes have had sometblng to do with
superb beauty of his face was slightly marred the vague
expression of his left in which white film was discemible.
In later times I.leamed the story of this affl.ietion, which most
people unknowingly attributed to natural causes. In reality,
however, it had occurred under tragic circumstances.
Some years earlier, of his wives, at the instigation of the
ri"al dynasty of Ibn Rashid, had put poison into incense ves
sel - little brazier used at ceremoniaJ gatherings in Najd - with
obvious intention of him. As usual, the brazier was
ha.nded first to the before being passed around his
gulests. inhaling the first whiff, Ibn Saud immediatelY,. sensed
that there was something wrong with the incense and dashed the
vessel to the ground. His alertness saved his but not before
left had affected and partially blinded. But instead
avenging himself the faithless woma.n, as another
potentate in his position would surely have done, forgave her
- Jror was convinced that she had the victim of insuper
infiuences at the hands of her family, who were relatcd to
the House of Ibn Rashid. merely divorced her and sent her
back, richly endowed with gold and gifts, to her at Hail .
FIRST the sent for almost
daily. morning 1 went to with the intention of asking.
wiithout much ofits being granted, permission to travel in
to the interior of the country, for Ibn Saud did not, as rule,
allow foreigners to visit Najd. Nevertheless, 1was about to bring
this matter up when suddenly the shot brief, sharp glance
in direction - glance which seemed to to un
sploken thoughts - smiled, and said:
OPPOSITE: Faysal

20
ROAD
'Wilt thou Muharnmad. with us to Najd and stay
for few months at Riyadh?'
1was dumbfounded, and obviously, were the other
present. Such spontaneous invitation to stranger was almost
unheard of.
went '1 would like thee to travel motorcar \vith
month.'
1 took deep breath and answered: God lengthen thy
life, but what use would that to What good
would it do to whizz in five or si)( days from
Riyadh without having seen anything of thy country beyond the
desert, some sand dunes and perhaps, somewhere the hOri2:
like shadows ... If thou hast objection, drome
dary would suit better, Long-of-Age, than thy cars
gether.'
Ibn Saud laughed: 'Art thou thus tempted to look into th,e
eyes of beduins? 1 must warn thee tl1ey
backward people, and Najd is desert land without
and the camel-saddle wi1l hard and the food dreary the
journey - nothing but and dates and occasionally meat. But
so it. If thou hast set thy heart it, thou shalt ride.
after it well tl1at thou wilt not regret having to
know they they know nothing and
nothing - but their hearts are fuH of good faith.'
And some weeks later, equipped the with
daries, tent and guide, 1set out roundabout
route to Riyadh, which 1reached after t\VO months. That was
first journey into the interior of Arabia; the first of
the few months of which the had spoken grew into years -
how easily they grew into years! - spent not only in Riyadll
but in almost every part of Arabla. And the saddle is hard
longer ...
GOD LENGTHEN the Jife of Abd al-Aziz,' says Sharp..
Face. loves the badu and the bad!llove
And why should they not? - 1 ask myself. King's
handedness toward the beduins ofNajd has
feature ofhis administration: not very admirable feature, per
haps, for the regular gifts of which Ibn Saud distributes
21
the tribal chieftail1s and tJ1eir followers have
50 depcndent his la"gcsse that they are beginning to Iose
incentive to improve their Iiving conditions their
vours and are gradually lapsing the status of dole-re.ceivers,
contentto remain ignorant al1d indolel1t.
Throughout conversation with Sharp-Face, zayd' seems
While talks with of the his eyes fre
qULently rest as if to remind that there is long way
before us and that reminiscences and reflections do quicken
th,e camels' We part. Shammar ride away
ward the east and soon disappear behind dunes. From where we
stand, we hear of them intone nomad chant, such as
camel-rider sings to spur his beast and to break the monotony of
his ride; and as Zayd and 1 our west\vard course toward
the melody gradually fades away, and silence
turns.
-3
'LOOK THERE!' zayd's voice breaks through thesilence, hare!'
1 turn eyes to the bundle of grey fur that has leaped of
clump of bushes, while Zayd slides down from his saddle,
slinging the wooden that hangs the pommel. bounds
the hare and swings the over head for the throw;
just as is to hurl it, catches his foot in
falls flat his face - and the hare disappears from sight.
'There goes good supper,' 1 laugh ay:-ne picks himself
fllefully eyeing the in his hand. mind it zayd: that
hare was obviously not our portion .. .'
'No, it was not,' replies, somewhat absent-mindedly; and
then 1 see tl1at is limping painfully.
'Didst thou hurt thyself, Zayd l'
it is Dothing. 1only twisted ankle. It get better in
little while.'
But it does not get better. After another hour in the saddle 1
see beads of perspiration Zayd's face; and wl1en 1 take
look at his foot, 1find that the ankle has badly sprained and
is angrily s\vollen.
'There is use going like this, Zayd. Let us
here; night's rest restore thee.'
22 ROAD
THROUGH NIGHT zayd seems to rest1ess with
awakens before dawn. and his sudden movement
stirs a1so sleep.
'1 see says: and when we 100k vve
discover that the beasts - Zayd's - has indeed disap
peared. zayd wants to set out to search forit. but
injured foot makes it difficult for to stand, not to speak
of wa1king and and dismounting.
rest, zayd, and 1shall instead; it won't diffi.cu1t to
find way back retracing
And in the breaking dawn 1ride away, following the tracks ()f
the lost dromedary which wind across the sand valley and d.i'!
appear behind the dunes.
1 ride for and and third: but the tracks of
the strayed and as if it had pursued deliberate
course. forenoon is weH advanced when 1 stop for short
hclt, dismount, eat few dates and drink from the small wateJ:
skin attached to saddle. sun stands high, but somehow it
has 10st its glare. Dun-coloured clouds, unusual at this time of
float motionless under the sky; strangely thick. air
envelops the desert and softens the outlines of the dunes
yond their usual softness.
eerie stir over the summit of the high sand hill in front of
catches - is it anim.al? 10st perhaps '1
But when 1 look more carefu11y, 1 see that the movement is not
but in the dune crest itself: the crest is ever
slightly, ripplingly, forward - and then it seems .to trickle down
the slope toward like the crest of slpwly breaking wave.
murky redness creeps the sky from behind the dune; under
this redness its contours 10se their sharness and blurred,
as if had sudden1ybeen drawnacross; and reddish twi1igh1t
begins to spreac;i rapidly over the desert. cloud sandl
whirls against and around and at the windl
begins to roar directions, crisscrossing the witbi
powerful blasts. trickling movement of the first hilltop hasi
been taken the sand hills within sight. In of
minutes the sky darkens to deep. rust-brown hue and the air is
filled with swirling sand dust which,like reddish fog, obscures
the sun and the day. This is sandstorm, and mistake.
crouching dromedary, tenified, wants to rise. 1 it

down the struggling to keep myselfupright in the wind
that has now assumed the foree of gale, and manage to hobble
animal's ,forelegs and, to make it more hind.leg as
well. 1 throw myself down the grQund and drawmy
over head. 1 press against the camel's armpit
so as not to choked the flying sand. 1feel the animal press
its muzzle against shoulder, doubt for the same 1
the sand being heaped from the side where' 1
unprotected the dromedary's body, and have to shift from
to tirne to avoid being
1 not unduly worried, for it is not the first time that 1
surprised sandstorm in the desert. Lying thus the
ground, tightly wrapped in 1 do nothing but wait
the storm to abate and listen to the of the wind and the
flapping of cloak - flapping like loose sail - like
in the wind - like the flapping of tribal banners carried
high poles beduin army the march: just as they flapped
and fluttered nearly years ago over the host of Najdi bed
uin riders - thousands of them, and 1 among them - returning
from Arafat to after the pilgrimage. It was second
pilgrimage. 1had spent year in the interior of the Peninsula
had managed to return to just in to take part in
the congregation of pilgrims the Plain of Arafat, to the east
ot" the Holy City; and the way back from Arafat 1 found
self in themidst of multitude of white-garbed Najdi beduins,
in tense gallop over the dusty plain - sea of white-gar
bed honey-yellow, golden-brown and red-brown drome
daries-a roaring, earth-shaking gallop of thousands of drome
daries pusblng forward like irresistible wave - the tribal
ners roaring in the wind and the tribal cries with which the
announced their various tribes and the warlike deeds of their
alleestors surging in wa,,:,es over detachment: for to the
ofNajd, ofthe Central Arabian higblands, war and pilgrim
age spring from the same souree ... And the numberless pilgrims
from other lands - from Egypt and India and North Africa and
to such wild abandon, scattered in panic
before our approach: for nobody could survived who stood
in the way of the thundering host - just as instantaneous death
\vould the portion of rider from the saddle
in the midst ofthc thousands and thousands of galloping mounts.
24 ROAD
Howe\'er mad that ride, 1 shared the madness and abandoned
myseIfto the the whirr and the rtJsh the with
wild happiness in heart - a"d"the wind tbat rushed past
face sang out: 'Never again wilt thou stranger ...
again, arnong thy people!'
And 1 in sand under flapping the of
seems to 'Never again wilt thou stranger ...'
1 longer stranger: has
Western past is like distant dream - not enough to
forgotten, and not enough to part of present. Not that
1 lotus-eater. thecontrary, \vhenever 1
stay for some months in town - as, for instance, in Medina,
where 1have wifeand infant son and library fu11 of
books early Islamic history - 1 grow aod begin
for action and movement, for the dry, brisk air of the
desert, for the sme11 of dromedaries and the feel of the
saddle. OddIy enough, the urge to wander that has made
. restless for the greater of life (1 little over
t\VO and lures again and again into of
hazards and encounters, does not stemso from thirst for
adventure as from longing to find own restful place in thll::
\vorld - to arrive at where 1 could correlate all that
might to with that 1might think and feel and ..
sire. And if 1understand it rightly, it is this longing for inner dis
that has driven over the years, into world entirel:f
<!ifferent, both in its perceptions and its outer forms, from to
\vhlch birth and upbringing had seemed to
...
WHEN STORM finally subsides, 1 shake myself free of
the sand that has heaped around dromedary is half
buried in it, but the worse for experience that must havf:
befallen it times. storm itself, it would seem at firs't
gIance, has not done us damage apart from mouth,
ears and nostrils \....ith sand and bIowing away the sheepskin
saddle. But soon 1 discover error.
the dunes around have changed their outlines.
tracks and those of the missing camel have bIown away. ][
standing virgin ground.
THIRST
25
Now nothing remains but to go back to the - at least
to to go back - with the help ofthc sun and the general sense
direction which is almost instinct with accus
tomed to travelling in deserts. But here these t\'{o aids 110t
til'cly for sand dunes do 110t allow to go in straight
and so to keep the direction have chosen.
The 113s tblrsty, not to a\vay
from for than few hours, 111ave long ago drul1k the
last sip small waterskil1. it far to
the and hougl1 dromcdary has lbld 110 water since
last stop at \vp.1I some two days ago, it is old campaigner
relied to back. 1 set its nose toward
where 1 think the must and start at brisk
and third, but there is trace of
Z'lyd of camving ground. None of the orange-coloured
it would difficult indeed
di5cover anything in if there had
storm.
Late in the after:oon 1 outcrop of granite
rocks, so in th,' mid5t of these sand wastes, and recognize
them immediately: we passed them, Zayd and 1, yesterday after
not long before we made the riight. 1 greatly
reHeved; for though it is obvioU5that 1 way beyond the
where 1hoped to find Zayd - having missed
couple of miles 50 ....: it seems to that it should not
difficult to find simply going in southwesterly direction,
as "."Cdid yesterday.
were, 1 about three hours between the rocks
alld night but wben 1 now ride for tbree bours.
is sign of of Zayd. Have 1 missed
again? 1 pusb. forward. always to\vard southwest. taking
of the sun carefully into account; two hours
pass. but stilI there 15 and Zayd. When night falls. [
-decide it is senseless continue further; better rest and wai. for
Hle moming light. 1 dismount. the dromedary, try to eat .
some dates but too thirsty: and so 1 give them to the
al1d down with head against its body.
It is fitful doze into 1faH: not quite sleep a"d not quite
waking, but succession of dream states brought about
fatigue, broken thirst that has gradually distressmg;
26 ROAD
and, somewhere in those depths which does not want to
covel' oneself, there is that grey, squirming mollusc
what will to if 1do not find way back to Zayd and
to our waterskins? - for, as far as 1 know, there is water and
settlement for days' journey in directions.
At dawn 1 start again. Dunng the night 1 calculated that 1
must have gone too far to the south and that, therefore, Zayd"s
ought to somewhere north-northeast of the place wheI'e
1 the night. And so toward north-northeast we go, thirsty
and tired and hungry, always threading our way in wavy lines
from valley to valley, circumventing sand hills now to the righ't,
now to the left. At we rest. tongue sticks to the roof of
mouth and feels like old, cracked leather;'the throat is
and the eyes inflamed. Pressed to the camel's \vith
dra\vn over head, 1 try to sleep for while, but
aftemoon sees us again the march, this in more easter
ly direction - for now 1 know that we have gone too far west
- but still there is Zayd and
Another night comes. Thirst has grown to torment, and the
desire for water the the overpowering thought in mind
that longer hold orderly thoughts. But as soon as dawn
lightens the sky, 1 ride through the morning, through
day, into the aftemoon of another day. Sand dunes and hea't.
Dunes behind dunes, and end. Or this perhaps the end
the end of all roads, of seeking and finding? Of
coming to the people among whom 1 would never
stranger ... ? God,' 1 pray, 'let not perish thus .. .'
In the aftemoon 1 climb tall dune in the of getting
better view of the landscape. When 1 suddenly discem dark
point far to the east, 1could cry with joy, only 1 too weak for
, that: for this must zayd's encampment, and the waterskins,
the two big waterskins full of water! knees shake as 1 re
mount dromedary. Slowly, cautiously, we move in the direc:
tion of that black point which surely nothing but Zayd"s
1 take every precaution not to it: 1 ride in
straight line, up sand hills, down sand valleys, thus doubling,
trebling our toil, but the that within short
while, \\'ithin two hours at the most, 1 shall reach goal. And
finally, afterwe have crossed the last dunecrest, the goal comes
clearJy \vithin sight, and J rein .in the and Jook down
THIRST 21
upon the dark something less than half mile away. and
heart seems to stop beating: for what I see before is the dark
outcrop of granite rocks which 1 passed tbree days ago with
Zayd and revisited two days ago alone ...
For two days 1 going in circle.
-4
1 SLIDE DOWN from the saddle, 1 entirely
hausted. 1 do not even bother to hobble the camel's legs, and in
deed the beastis too tired to think ofrunning away. 1 but
tears from dry, swollen eyes.
How long it is since 1 havewept ... But, then, is not every
tJiling long past? Everything is past, and there is present.
is on1y thirst. And heat. And torment.
1 without water for nearly three days now, and it is
five days dromedary has had its last drink. It could
probably carry like this for day perhaps two; but 1
cannot, 1 know it, last that long. Perhaps 1 sha11 go mad before 1
die, for the in body is ensnarled with tbe dread in
and the makes the other grow, searing and whispering
and tearing...
1want to rest, but at the 1 know that if 1 rest now 1
s:ball never able to get again. 1 drag myself into the saddle
and force the dromedary with beating and kicking to get and
almost fall from the saddle when the lurches forward
while rising its hind legs and, again, when it lurches back
ward, straightening its forelegs. We begin to sIo\\'ly, pain
due west. Due west: what mockery! What does 'due
west' amount to in this deceptive, undulating sea of sand hills?
Hut 1 want to live. And so we go
We plod with the rest our strength through the night. It
must morning when 1 fall from the saddle. 1 do not fall haTd;
tJile sand is soft and embracing. stands \vhile,
tJilen slides down with sigh its knees, then its hind legs,
and lies crouched side with its neck the sand.
1 the sand in the narrow shadow of the dromedary's
body, wrapped in against the heat outside and the
pain and thirst dread within 1 cannot think 1
cannot ,close eyes. Every movement the lids is like
the and heat; thirst and crushing
28
dry silence that swathes in its Ionetiness
and despair and makes the singing in your earsand tbe
ca.mel'sOCC85ional sigb stand out, threateningly. as these
were the last sounds earth and two. the man and tbe
the last living beings, doomed earth.
High us, in the swimming heat. vulture circles slowly.
without ever stopping. pinpoint against the bard paleness of
the sky. free and horizons ...
throat is swollen. constricted. and every breatb moves:
thousand torturing needles at the of tongue - that bJig.
big tongue should not but stop moving in
pain, fonvard.like rasp against the dry cavity
mouth. insides are hot and intertwined in one unceasing
grip of agony. For seconds the steely sky becomes black to.my
wide-open eyes.
band as if ofits and strikes against tbe
butt of the carblne slung the saddle.peg. And the band stands
stil1. and witb sudden clarity tbe mind sees the fivegood sbells in
the magazine and the quick end that pressure the trigger
could bring ... Sometbing in whispers: quickly. get
the carbine before you are unable to move agail1!
And then 1 lips and shape toneless words that
from dark recessesof mind: 'We sha1l try you ...
most certain1y try you .. .' and the bIurred words slowly assume
shape and into pattem-a verse from We
most certainly ,vith hUl1ger with the lack
possessions alld labour's give t/le good tiding 10 Ihose
))'ho remain stead/ast 011d. ca/amity befol/s them, 'B't
hold. God belong and Wlto Him do ,ve
Everything is hot and dark; but out of the darkness 1sen.'le
cooling breath ofwind and hear it rustle 50ftly - wind rustling.
as if in trees - over \vater - and the water is sluggish littIe
stream between grassy banks. near the childhood. J
lying the bank, little of nine or ten years, chewing
grass sta1kand gazing at the white cows \vhich grazenearby with
great. drcamy eyes and the innocence of contentment. In the dis
peasant women \\'ork in the field. of them wears red
head-kerchief blue skirt \vith broad red stripes. Willow
trees stand the bank of stream, and over its surface g1ides
white duck. making the water g1itter in its And 50ft
29
wind rustles face like ananimal's yes, it is
deed animal's snort: the big white cow with the brown spots
has quite close to and now nudges snorting, with
its muzzJe, and 1 feel the movement its legs side...
1 and the snort dromedary, and feel
the movement its legs side. It has raised itself its
laind legs with uplifted neck head, its nostrils widened as if
scenting sudden, \velcomesmell in the air. It snorts again,
and 1 sense the excitement rippling down its long neck toward
the shoulder and the big. half-raised body. 1 have seen camels
snuffie and snort like this wben they scent water after long days
desert travel; there is water ... - 1S there? 1
lift head and follow with eyes the direction toward which
the ca.mel has its head. It is the dune nearest us, lo\v
summit against tl1e steely bleakness the sky, empty of
sound. But there is sound! There is faint like
the vibration old very delicate and brittle, high
JPitched: the high-pitched, brittlesound beduin voicechanting
the rhythm \vith camel's tread - just the
summit oftlle sand quite as distances go. - 1kno\v it
in fraction instant - beyond the sound
voice. people there, 1 them. 1
\veak to get 1 try to shout, but hoarse grunt
comes throat. then l1and strikes, as if its
0\\'11, against the butt of the saddle ...
"'ith the mind 1see the fivc good sheIls in the maga
...
With supreme effort 1 manage to unsling the weapon from
the saddle-peg. Drawing the boJt is like lifting mountain,
finallyit isdone. 1stand the its butt and fire shot ver
tically into the aic. bullet \vhines into the emptiness with
pitifuUy tmn sound. 1 draw bolt again fire again.
then listen. harplike singing has stopped. For mOnlent
there is nothing silence. Suddenly head, and then
his shoulders, the crest tlle dUl1e; and another
his side. look [01' \vhile, then turn
and shout something to some invisible cOl11panions, and the man
in front clambers the crest half runs, 11alf slides down
the slope toward
is commotion around t\VO, three meli - ....'hat
ROAD
crowd after that - are trying to lift their
movements most confusing pattem of and legs... 1 feel
something buming-cold, like ice and lips. and see
bearded beduin face bent over his hand pressing dirty"
moist rag against mouth. man's other hand is holding
waterskin. 1 make instinctive toward it. but tbe
beduin gently pushes hand back, dunks the rag into the
water and again presses few drops onto lips. 1 to bite
teeth together to prevent the water from burning throat;
but tlle beduin teeth apart and again drops some water
into mouth. It is not water: it is ri'l.olten lead. Why tbey
doing this to 1want to run away from the but they ..
bold back, the devils... skin is buming. whole
budy is in flames. Do they want to if only 1 had the
strength to get hold of rifle to defend myself! they do not
let rise: they hold do\vn to the ground and pry
mouth again and drip water into it, and 1 to s\vaHow
it - and, strangely enough, it does not burn as rercely as
ment ago - and the wet rag head feels good, and whelll
they pour water over body, the touch or the wet cl6thes
brings shudder of delight...
And then goes black, 1 falling, falling down deep well,
the speed of falling makes the air rush past ears, the rush
ing grows into roaring blackness, black, black ...
-5
BLACK, BLACK, 50ft blackness without sound, goo(i
and friendJy darkness that ernbraces you like warm b!anket
and mak.es you wish that you could always rernain like this. so
wonderfuJlytired sleepyand lazy; and there is reaHy
for you to your eyes or to your but you do
your arm and do your eyes: only to see dark.ness aboY:
you, the woollen darkness of beduin tent made of b!ack goat
hair, with narrow opening in front that shows you piece 01'
starry night sky and the soft curve of dune shimmering undei'
the starlight... And then the tent-opening darkens and rnan's
figure stands in it, the outline ofhis fiowing cloak sharplyetchedl
against the sky, and 1 hear Zayd's voice exclaim: is awake"
is awake!' - and his austere face comcs quite close to OWnI
and his hand grips shoulder. Another enters the tent; ]

31 THIRST
cannot clearly see him, but as soon as speaks with slow,
solemnvoice1 know is Shammar beduin.
1 hot, consumingtblrst and grip hard the bow1
miilk wblchZayd ho1ds out toward but thereis
when 1 gulp it down while Zayd how tbls small
group beduins happened to at the time when
the sandstocm broke 100se, and how, when the strayed
ca1m.Iy itselfduring the night, they worried
and went all of them together, to search for and how,
after three days, when they had almost given
they heard shots beblnd dune...
And now theyhave erected teot over and 1 ordered to
lie: in it tonight and tomorrow. Our beduin frieods jn 00
their waterskins full; theyhaveeveo able to give
three bucketfu1s to dromedary: for they know that day's
joumey towacd the south will bring them, and to oasis
wJ!lere there js \vell. And in the the came1s have fod
dc:r enough in the hamdh bushes that grow all around.
After whi1e, Zayd he1ps of tent, spreads blanket
00 sand, and 1 lie doWn under the stars.
FEW HOURS LATER 1 awaken to the of Zayd's
coffeepots; the smell of fresh coffee is like woman's
'zayd!' 1 and ampleasantlysurprisedthat voice,
though stil1 tired, has 10st jts croak. 'Wilt thou give some
coffee1'
God 1 uncle!' answers Zayd, following the old
Arab custom of thus addressing'8. to whom wants to
showrespect, older younger than the spealcer (asit
pens, 1am fewyears youoger than Zayd). shalt bave as
coffee as thy heart desires!'
1 drink coffee and grin at Zayd's countenance.
'Why, brother, do weexposeourselves to such thingsinstead of
in our homes like seosible peoplel'
Zayd grins back at 'it is not for the 1ike of thec
and to waitin our unti1 the limbs stiffand old
overtakes us. Andbesides, do not die in their
aswell?Does oot mana1ways hisdestinyaround hisneck,
whcrever l'
32 ROAD
The word Zayd uses for 'destil1Y' isqisma - 'that which is
portioned' - better known to tlle West in its Turkish kis
And whi1e1sip another of coffee, it passes through
mind that this expression has another, deeper meaning as
well: 'that in which has share.'
That ;11 ',as share ...
These words strike faint, elusive <:llOrd in ...
there was grin that accompaniedthem ... whose grin ? grin
behind cloud pungent smoke, like the smoke of
hashish: yes - it was the smoke of hashish, and the grin
to one ofthe strangest 1have ever - and 1met after
the strangest experiences of life: while trying to escape
from danger that seemed-only seemed-to imminent in its
threat, 1had racing, \vithout knowing it, into danger
real, imminent, than the one 1v/as trying to elude:
and both the dal1ger the Ied to another es
...
lt happened nearly eight years ago, \vhen 1 was travelling
horseback, accompanied Tatar scrvant
Shiraz to Kirman in southern - desolate, thinly popu
Iated, stretch Niris Lake. No\v, winter, it was
squeIchy, muddy steppe with villages in the vicinity, hcdged
in to the south Kuh-i-Gushnegan, 'the Mountains tllc
Hungry'; toward the north it dissolved into thc swamps
bordered the lake. the afternoon, as circumvent i50
Iated hill, the lake suddenly into view: motior.1ess green
surface without breath sound life, the waier \vas so salty
that fish could live it. few crippled trees
desert shr.ubs, the saltysoil its shores did not allowanyvege
tation to grow. The ground was lightly covered with muddy
snow and over it, at distance about two hund red yards
the shore, ran thinly outlined path.
The evening and the caravanserai Khan-i-Khet -
goaI the night-was nowhere in sight. But had to reach it
at price; \vide there was other settlement, and the
nearness the s\vamps made progress in darkness extreme]y
hazardous. In fact, we had warned in the morning not Ito
venture there alone, [aIse step might easily sudden
death. Apart that, horses were very tired long
day's march over oozy ground and had to rested and [ed.
33
With the coming of the night rain set in. We rode, wet
and morose and silent, relying the instinet of the
rather than our useless Hours passed: and
serai appeared. Perhaps we had passed it in the darkness and
would now to spel1d the night in the under down
that was steadily mounting in strength... of
our horses splashed through water; our sodden elothes elung
heavily to our bodies. Blaek and opaque hung the night around
us under its veils of streaming water; we were ebllled to the
but the knowledge that the swamps \vereso wa::
ehilling. Should the horses at time miss the solid
ground - 'then God merey we
\\rarned in the morning.
1 rode ahead, with Ibrahim folIowing perhaps ten 00
hind. Again and again the terrifying thought: Had we Ieft
beblnd us in the darkness 1What prospect, to
spend the night under the eold rain; but ifwe proceeded far
tJh.er - what about the 1
of sudden soft, squishy sound from under horse's
hooves; 1 felt the animaI slide in the sink in little, dra\v
up Ieg franticaHy, sIide again.- and the thought piereed
mind: the swamp! 1jerked the reins hard and dug heeIsinto
the horse's flanks. It tossed its head high and started working its
Iegsfuriously. skin broke in eold perspiration. night
Vias so blaek that 1eould not diseem own hands, but in
the eonvulsive heaving of the horse's body 1 sensed its desperate
struggte against the embraee of the swamp. Almost without
thinking, 1 grabbed the ridillg erop whieh ordinarily hung un
used at wrist and struek the horse's blndquarters with
might, hoping thus to ineite it to utmost effort - for if it stood
still now, it would sueked, and 1 \vith it, deeper and deeper
into the mud... Unaeeustomed to such feroeious beating, the
poor beast - Kashgai stallion of exceptional speed and power
_. reared its blnd Iegs, struek the ground with fours again,
strained gaspingly against the mud, jumped, sIipped, heaved it
self forward again, and slipped again - and the time its
beat desperately against the soft, oozy mire...
Some mysterious object swept with swish over head 1
raised hand and received hard, incomprehensible .
what from 1 Time and thought tumbled over one another and
34 ROAD
confused... the splasblng of the rain and tllC
panting of the horse 1 could for seconds that were like
hours, the relentless sucking sound the swamp... el1ld
must 00 1 feet from the stirrups, ready
jump from the saddle ard try luck - perhaps 1
save myself if 1 flat the ground - when suddenly -
believably-the horse's hoovcs struck against hard ground,
twice ... and, with sob relief, pulled the reins and brought
the quivering animal to standstill. We were saved...
now did 1 remember and cal1edout, full
ofterror, 'Ibrahim!' No arower. heart went cold.
'Ibrahim... !' - but there was the blar:;" night around
and tbe falling rain. Had to save himself?
With hoarse voice 1 called out again, 'Ibrahim!'
And then, al.most shout sounded faintly from
great ... 1
Now it was reason's turn to stand still: how had we 00
so widely separated?
'Ibrahim!'
... here!' - and following the sound, leading horse
the reins and t:sting every inch of ground with feet, 1
walked very slowly, very carefully toward the distant voice: and
there was Ibrahim, sitting calmly in his saddle.
'What has happened to Ibrahim? Didn't you also
der into the swamp?'
'Swamp ... ? No - 1simply stood still when su1denly, 1
don't know \vhy, galloped away.'
Ga//oped ... riddle was solved. strugg1eagainst
the swamp had fruit of imagination. horse
must sUnplystepped into muddy rut and 1, thinking tha,t
we were OOing drawn into the morass, had whipped it into fren,
zied gallop; cheated the darkness, 1 had mistaken the
mal's forward movement for desperate struggle against the
swamp, and had racing blindly through the night, unaware
of the gnarled trees that dotted the plain.... trees,
and not the swamp, had the immediate, real danger: the
s11'lall twig that had struck hand could as well lar
ger branch, wblch might have broken mysku11and thus brougbt
journey to decisive end in unmarked grave in southerll1
...
35
1was Curious with myself, doubIy furious because now we had
108t orientation and could 10nger find trace of the path.
Now we would never find the caravanserai...
But again 1 was mistaken.
Ibrablm dismounted to feel the terrain with his hands and so
perhaps to rediscover the path; and wblle was crawling thus
fours, bls head suddenly struck wall - the dark wal1 of
the caravanserai of
But for imaginery bIundering into the swamp we would
have gone. missed the caravanserai and truly lost ourselves in
the swamps which, as we subsequently learned, began less than
two yards ahead...
caravanserai was of the decayed remnants of
thle of Shah Abbas the Great - mighty bIocks of masonry
\vith vaulted passageways, gaping doorways and crumbling fire
places. and there could discern traces of old carving
over the lintels and majolica tiles; the few inhabitabIe
rooms \vere littered with old straw and horse duqg. When Ibra
him and 1 entered the we found the Qverseer of the
caravanserai seated fire the bare ground. At his
side was bare-footed of diminutive size draped in tat
tered cloak. Both rose to their feet at our appearance,and the lit
stranger bowed solemnly with exquisite, almost theatrical
gesture, the right hand placed over the heart. His cloak \vas
covered with innumerabIe multicoloured patches; was dirty,
entirely unkempt; but bls eyes were shining and bls face serene.
overseer left the room to attend to horses. 1 threw otf
soaked tunic, while Ibrablm immediately set himselfto mak
ing tea over the fire. With the condescension. of great lord
who forfeits of bls dignity being courteous to his in
feriors, the odd little graciously accepted the of tea
Ibrahim held out toward him.
Without show of undue curiosity, as if opening drawing
room conversation, turned to are English,janab-i-a/i?'
'No, 1 Namsalvi' (Austrian).
'Would it improper to ask if it is business that brings you
to these parts 7' .
'1 writer for ne\vspapers,' 1 replied. '1
through your country to describe it to the people
love to kno\v how others live and what they think.'
36 ROAD
nodded with an approving smile and lapsed into
After while he drew small clay and rod
from the folds of his cloak; he attached the rod to the clay ves
sel; then he rubbed something that Jooked like tobacco
his palms and placed it carefully, as if it \vere more precious than
gold, in the bowl of the pipe, covering it with live coals. With
visible effort, he dre\v in the smoke through the rod,
violently coughing and clearing his throat the process.
water in the clay pipe bubbled and biting to fill
the And then 1 recognized it: it was Indian hashish
- and now 1 also the man's strange mannerisms: he
\\'as 110s11S110S!li, addict. His eyes \vere not veiled like those of
opium smokers; they shone \vith kind of detached, impersonal
staring into distance that was immeasurably remove.d
from the real world around them.
1 looked in silence. When he finished his pipe at last,
asked
'Will not try it?'
1refused \\"ith thanks; 1 had tried opium twice(without
particular enjoyment), but this hashish business seemed too
strenuous and unappetizing even to try. The hosllShosl1i laughed
soundlessly; his squinting eyesglided over with friendly
'1 know what thinking, respected friend: are
tl\inking that hashish is the work ofthe devil and are afraid
Nonsense. Hashisll is gift from God. Very good - especially
for the mind. Look herc, let explain it to
is bad - there doubt about it - for it awakens in
craving for things; it makes his dreams greedy, lik,e
those of an animal. But hashish silences greed and makes one
indifferent to things ofthe world. That's it: it makes one
tented. could place mound of gold before hoshshasbl-
not just while he is smoking, but at time - and would not
even stretch out his littlc finger for it. Opium makes people weak
cowardly, but hashish k.ills fear and makes brave
as lion. If were to ask 110shs!ms!li to dive into icy
stream in the middle of \vinter, he \vould simply dive into it and
laugh... For he has learned that to \\'ithout greed is to
\vithout fear - and that if goes beyond fear he goes beyond
'
danger as well, kno\ving that \vhatever ]lappens to is but his
share in that is happening... '
37
And laughed again, with that short, sl1aking, soundless
laughter OOtween mockery and benevolence; then stopped
lauglUng and grinned OOhind his cloud of smoke, his sbln
ing eyes fixed irnmovable distance.
SHARE IN ALL that is happening .. .' 1 think to myself
as 1 lie under the friendly Arabian stars. '1 - this bundle of flesh
and of sensations and perceptions - placed
within the orbit of Being, and within all that is happening ...
"Danger" is onlyan illusion: never it "overcome" for
that happens to is ofthe all-embracing stream of\vhicl11
myself part. Could it 00, perhaps, that danger .and safety,
death andjoy, destiny and fu1filment, but different aspects of
this tiny, majestic bundle that is I? Wbat endless freedom,
God, hast Thou granted to ...'
I to close eyes, so sharp is the pain of happiness at
this thought; and wings of freedom brush silently from afar
in the breath of the wind that passes over face.
-6
ENOUGH to sit up now, and zayd brings
of our camel-saddles to upon. 'Make thyself comfort
uncle. It g1addens heart to see thee well after I had
moumed thee for dead.'
hast good friend to zayd. What would 1
done without thee these years if thou hadst not follow
ed call and to
"1 never regretted these years with thee, uncle. 1still
the day when 1got thy letter, than years ago,
to ... thought of seeing thee again was
dear to especially as in the meantime thou hadst bless
ed with the blessing of Islam. But just then 1 had married
Muntafiq gi.rl, virgin, and her love pleased exceedingly.
Iraqi girls, they narrow waists and hard breasts, like
- and, smiling with remembrance, he presses his forefinger
against the hard pommel of the saddle which 1 leaning
'and it is difficult to let their embraces go... So 1 told myself,
"1 will go, but not just now: let wait for few weeks." But the
weeks passed, and the months, and although 1 soon divorced
38 ROAD
that woman .,... the daughter of dog, she had making eyes
at her cousin - 1could not make mind to forsake job
with the Iraqi agay/, and friends, and the joys Baghdad
and always told myself, just now; after little
while..... 1 was riding away from our where
1 collected monthly and was thinking of spending
the night in friend's quarters, when suddenly thou camest to
myn'ind and 1 remembered \vhat thou hadst told in thy
letter ofthy dear rafiqa's death - God have her
and 1 thought ofhow thou must without her, and at
1 knew i had to go to tllee. there then 1 pu11ed off
the Iraqi star from iga/ and threw it away; then, without even
going to myhouse to coHect clothes, 1 tumed drome
dary's head toward the Nufud, toward Najd, and started out,
stopping the village to buy waterskin and some
provisions, and rode and unti1 1 thee at four
weeks later. . .'
'And dost t!hou remember, Zayd, 0\'" firstjourney together in
to the interior of southward to the palm orchards and
wheat fields of Wadi Bisha, and thence into the sands Ranya
wblch had never before trodden non-Arab?'
'And how well 1 remember it, uncle! wert so keen
seeing the Empty where the jinns make sands
sing,under the sun ... And what those badu living its
who had never seen glass in lives and thought
eyeglasseswere made frozen water? Theywere like jinns
themselves, reading tracks in sand other read
book, and from the skies and from the air tbe coming
sandstonn before it ... And dost thou
uncle, that guide we at Ranya - that devil
whom thou wantedst to shoot down when was about to aban
don us in the midst the desert? How furious was
machine with' which thou makest pictures!'
We both laugh at that adventure lies so far behind
But at the we did not feel at like laughing. We were
six orseven days' journey south Riyadh when that
guide, fanatical beduin from the settlement Ar-Rayn,
wire.
t Rub' the vast, uninhabitcd sand desert which covers about
quarter or the AiabiaD Peninsular.
39
feJl into paroxysm of when I explained to him what
was foc. wanted to leave us there and then
such heathenish picture-making endangered his soul. I
wou1dnot have minded getting ridof himhadit not thatwe
were just then iiJ region '.vithwhich neither Zayd 1was fam
i1iar and where,left to ourselves, we would 10stour
way. At first 1 tried to with our 'devi1 of beduin, but
to avaiI; remained adamant and turned back his
ward Ranya. 1made it that it would cost his 1ife
to leave us to a1most certain death from thirst. When in spite of
this waming set his dromedary in motion, 1aimed at
and threatened to fire"": with every intention of doing so:
and this, at last, seemed to 9ut\veigh our friend's about '
his soul. After some grumbling, agreed to lead us next
settlement, three days ahead, where we could
our dispute the qadi for decision. zayd and 1 disarmed
him and took standing guard during the night to
him from slipping away. qadi at Quwa'iyya, to whom
appealed few days later, first gave judgment in favour of our
guide, 'for,' said, 'it is shameful to make pictures living
beings' (basing it wrong interpretation of saying of the
for despite - so prevalent among Mus
lims to this day - that the pepicting of living beings is f::>rbidden,
Islamic Law contains injunction to tms effect}. Thereupon 1
showed the qad; the openletter from 'to amirs of
land and everyone who read this' - and tl1e qadi'sface grew
10nger and 10nger as read: 'Muhammad Asad is our guest and
friend and dear unto us, and everyone who shows
ness sho,vs it to us, and everyone who is hostile wil1
hostile us.. .' Ibn Saud's words and seal had. magic
effect severe'qadi: and ultimately decided that 'under
certain circun1stances' it might permissible make pictures.
. . . Nevertheless, we let our guide go and hired ario.ther lead
us Riyadh. .
And dost thou those days in Riyadh, unclc.
we guests of ihe King and tllOti wert so to
the old stables palace filled ,vith shiny new motorcars.
. . And the graciousness toward ...'
'And dost thou Zayd, hOW he sent us out to
secrets behind the beduin rebellion. journeyed

40 ROAD
tbrough nights, and stole into Kuwayt, and at last found
out the truth about the cases of glittering new riyals and rifles
that were coming to the rebels from across the ... ?'
'And that other mission, uncle, when Sayyid Ahmad,
God lengthen his life, sent thee to Cyrenaica - and how we
secretly crossed the to Egypt in dJJOW - and how we made
our way into the Jabal Akhdar, eluding the vigilance of those
ltalians, God's curse upon them, and joined the mujahi
di" under al-Mukhtar1 Those were exciting days!'
.. And so we continue to other of the days,
the innumerable days we have together, and our 'Dost thou
1 Dost thou remember l' carries us far into the nigbt,
until the campfire flickerslower and lower, and only fewpieces
ofwood remain glowing, and zayd's face graduaHy recedes
the shadows and jtself becomes 1ike memory to heavy
In the starlit silence of the desert. with tender, lukewarm
wind rippling the sands, the of past and present inter
twine, separate again and to one another with wondrous
sounds ofevoc.ation, backward through the years, back to the
beginningof Arabian years, to first pilgrimage to
and the darkness that overshadowed those early days: to the
death of the whom 1 loved as 1 have loved woman
since and who now lies buried under the soil of under"
4iimple stone without inscription that marks the end of her road
and the beginning of new for end and beginning,
and strangely intertwined in the rocky valley of
...
'ZAYD, IS THERB some coffee leftT
thy command, uncle,' answers zayd. rises with
out haste, the taH, narrow brass coffeepot in his left hand and
t\VO m.inute, handleless cups clinking in his right - one (or
and for himself - pours little coffee into the first cup and
hands it to From under the shadow of the red-and-wblte
checked kufiyya bls eyes regard with solemn intentness, as if
this were much more serious matter than mere cup coffee.
! eyes- deepset and long-lashed, austere and sad in repose
but ever ready"to flash in sudden gaiety - speak of hundr,ed
generations of life in steppes tbe of _
41
whose ancestors have never exploited and have never
ploited others. But the most beautiful in are his movements:
serene, aware of their own rhythm, never hurried and never heSi
tant: precision and that reminds you ofthe interplay
of instruments in well-ordered symphony orchestra. ou see
such movements often among beduins; the sparseness of the
desert is reflected in them. For, apart from the few towns and
village$, life in Arabia has so little moulded
h.andsthat nature in her austerity has forced to avoid dif
in behavio and to reduce doing dictated his or
outward necesrity to few. very definite, basic forms. which
have remained the for countless generations and havein
acquired the smooth sharpness of crysta1s: and this inherit
ed simp1icity of is now apparent in the true Arab's gest
ures as well as in his attitude toward
Zayd, where are we going
Zayd 100ks at with smi1e: 'Why, uncle, toward
... l'
. 'No, brother, 1 wanted to go to but now 1do not want
it anymore. We are going to ..' .

BEGINNING OF ROAD
-1
IS NEARLY EVENING, fe'N days after

ter with thirst, when zayd and 1 arrive at forlom little

oasis where we intend to stop for the night. Under the rays
. the setting sun the sand hil1s in the east shine like irides
cent masses agate with ever-changing pastel shadows and
duOO light reflexes, so delicate in colour that even the seems
to do violence to tbem it follows the barely perceptible fl)\V of
shadows to\vard the greyness of growing dusk. still see
clearly the feathery crowns ofthe palms and, halfhidden behind
them, the lowly. mud-grey bouses and garden walls; and the
wooden wbeeJs over the well are still singing.
We make the cameJs lie down at some distance the vil
laE;e. below the palm orchards, unload our heavy saddlebags and
re:move the saddles fromthe animals' bot backs. few urchirls
assemble around the str".ngers and one of them, littJle
in tattered offers to sbow Zayd place 'wbere
wood is to found; and while the two set out their errand, 1
take the to tbe As 1 ]ower Jeather bucket and
draw it fillOO, some women from the vilJage to fetch
. water in 'copper basins and earthenware pitchers, which they
their beads witb both outstretched sidewis,e
and bent upward - so as to balance tbeir loads better - holding
the corners of their veils in uplifted hands like fluttering wings.
with thee, wayfarer: they say.
And 1answer: with and the of God.'
garments are black, and their faces - as almost always
with bOOuin and vi1lage \vomen in tms part of Arabia - uncover
00, so that see their large black eyes. AJthough they bav,e
settled in oasis for many generations, they bave not yet
10st the earnest mien of their forefatbers' nomad days.
movements are clear and definite, and their reserve free of
shyness as they wordlessly take the bucket rope from bands
42
BEGINNING OF 43
and draw water for camels-just as, four thousand
that woman at the weJl did to servant when
from to find for master's son Isaac from
their kinsfolk in Padan-Aram.
made his kneel down witl,out the city well
,yater at the time the evening, the time that out
draw water.
And he said, Lord God masterAbral,am, 1
send good.speed t/,is day, and s/zow kindness
Abraham. Beho/d, 1standhere the wello/,yater; daZlgh
ters the the city out to water. Let it to
that the damse/ to whom 1shall say, down thy pitcher, 1
thee, that1 drink,"-andsheshallsay, ..Drink, andl wi/I
give thy drinkalso"..let the she that hast
poinled/or Isaac; thereby shalll know that
hast showed kindness unto master.' .
And it to pass, haddone speakiirg, lhat, behold,
Rebecca out . . . withherpitcher hershoulder. And the
was very to look virgin, had
known her: and she wentdown to the well, andfilled pitcher,
and .
And the to meet her, said, 'Let l thee,
drink litlle water thypitcher.' A,ndshesnid, 'Drink, lord';
andshehastened, andlet down herpitcher hand, gave
drink. And when she had giving drink, she said, '1
'ill drawwater thy camels also, until theyhavedone drinking.'
Andshehastened, andemptied pitcherinto the trough, and
again unto the well ,draw M'ater, and dre,.., a/l his camels. .
Biblical story floats through mind 1 stand with
two the well litt1e oasis amidst the sands
the Great NuCud and gaze at the. women who have taken the
blucket rope from hands and now draw water for
mals.
Far away is the country of Padan-Aram and time:
but these women with the power remembrance their
stately have evoked, obliterate all distance space and
I1l1ake four thousand appear as in time. I
God bless your hands, sisters, and keep you secure.'
44 ROAD
'And thou, too, remain under Goo's protection, wayfarer,'.
they and tum to their pitchers and basins to fill with
water for their homes.
ON to our camping 1 make the camels
kneel down and hobble their forelegs to prevent them from
straying at rught. zayd has already lit fire is busy making
coffee. Water boils in tall brass coffeepot with curved
spout; smaUer pot of similar shape stands ready at zayd's
elbow. In bls left hand holds huge, flat iron spoon with
handle two feet long, wblch is roasting handful of coffee
over the 510w for in coffee is freshly roasted
for every As 500n as the beans lightly tanned, places
in brass and pound5 them. pours
some of the boiling water from the larger pot into the
the ground coffee into it and the pot near the
10let it 510wly When the brew is alm05t ready,he adds
few cardamon seed5 to it bitter, for, as the saying
goes in coffee, in order to gooo, MU5t 'bitter like
death and hot like love'.
But 1am not yet ready to enjoy coffee at leisure. Tired and
sweaty after the hot in" the saddle, with clothes
ing dirtiIy to 5kin, 1 am 10nging for bath; and 50 1
back to the well under the
It is a1ready dark. palm deserted; far
away, where the houses 5tand, dog barks. 1 throw
clothes and climb down into the weU., holding with hands and
feet to the ledges and clefts in the masonry and supporting myself
the ropes wblch the waterskins down to the dark
water and into it. It is cold and reaches to chest. In the dark:
ness side stand the drawing-ropes, vertically tautened
the weight of the large, now submerged, Skin5 wblch in daytime
used to water the plantation. Under the soles ofmy feet 1
feel the thin trickJe of water seep upward from the underground
spring that feeds the weU in slow, unceasing stream of etema,l
renewal.
Above the wind hum5 over the rim of the well and makes
itS interior resound faintly Jike the of Sea shell held
. _gainst the ear - humming sea shell such as 1 10ved to
BEGINNING R-OAD 4S
1istento in father's house years ago, child just
enough to look over the 1 pressed the shell against
and wondered whether the sound was always there or
onJy when 1 held it to ear. Was it something independent of
or did listeningcaH it forth? tirtles did 1try to
outsmart the sheH holding it away from so that the.hum
ming ceased, and then suddenly clapping it back to but
there it was again - and 1 never found out whether it was going
when 1 did not Jisten.
1 did not know of course, that 1 was being puzzJed
question that had puzzled wiser heads than mine for
ages: the question' of whether there is such thing as
'reality' from our minds, or whether our perception creates
it.. 1 did not know it thcn; but, 100king back, it seems to that
this great riddle haunted not in childhood butalso
in later years-as it haunted at time or another,
consciously or unconsciously, every thinking buman being: for,
wbatever tbe objective truth, to every of us tbe world mani- _
fests itself in the shape, and to the extent, of its reflection in
our minds: and so of us perceive of 'reality' in
with his own existence. Herein perhaps found
vaJid explanation for man's persistent belief, since the earliest
stirrings of his consciousness, in individual survival after death
belief too deep, too \\'idely spread tbrough races and times
to easily dismissed as 'wishful thinking'. It would
not too much to say that it unavoidably necessitated
the very structure of tl1c mind. think in abstract,
theoretical terms of one's own death as ultimate extinction
not difficult; but to visualize it, impossible: for this \vould
less than to to visualize the extinction of
reality assucb - in other words, to imagine nothingness: some
thing that man's mind is to, do.
lt was not the philosophers and prophets who taught us to
in Hfe after death; they did was to give form and spiri
tual content to instinctive perception as old himsclf.
1 s 11. 1N W R DL at the incongrui ty of speculating t
sucb profoundproblems while engaged in the mundane process
of wasbing away tbe grime and sweat of 10ng day's journey.
46 ROAD
after all, is there aIways clearly discemible borderlinc
tween the mundane and the abstruse in life? Could therc
. for instance, anything more mundane than setting out in
searchof 108t camel, and anything abstruse. dif6
cu)tof comprehension, than a1most dying of thirst? .
. Perhaps it was shock ofthat that has sharpened
senses and brought forth the need to render some 50rt of
count myself: need to comprehend, fully than 1
ever done before, the course of life. But, then, 1 reinind
myself, comprehend the meaning his
10ng he is aHve?We do know, what has
to us at this or that period our lives; and we do
understand why it happened; but our destination - our
destiny- is not so easily espied: for destiny is the sum all that
hasmoved in us and moved us, and present, and all that
will move us and \\'ithin us in the future - and so it unfold it
self only at the end the way,. and must always remain mis
understood or half understood as 10ng as we are treading
the way.
How 1 say, at the age of thirty-two, what was
is?
Sometimes it seems to that 1 almost see the lives two
men when llook back at life. think it, are
those two parts Hfe rcaHy so different from another
or was there perhaps, beneath all the outward differences
forin and direction, always unity feelingand purpose
to both? .
1 head and see the round piece of sky over the
the well, and stars. As 1 stand very still, for very 10ngtime, 1
seem to see how they slowly shift their positions, moving and
so that they might complete the rows upon rows millions
years wblch never to close. And then, without willing
it, 1 to think the little rows years that have happened
to - all those dim years spent inthe warm safety child
hood's rooms in town where every nook and street was famil
.iar to thereafter in other cities full of excitements and
ingsand hopes such only early youth then in new
world among whose mien and bearing were outlandish
first but in time brought forth new familiarity and new feelidg
of being at then in stranger and ever stranger landscapes,
BEGINNING 47
in cities as old as the mind of man, in steppes without horizon, in
mountains whose wildness reminded of the wildness of the
heart, :and in hot desert solitudes; and the slow growth
of new truths - truths new to - and that day in the snows
of the 'Hindu-Kush when, after long conversation, Afghan
friend exclaimed in astonishment: are Muslim, only
do not know it yourself ... !' And that other day, months
later, when 1 did to know it myself; and first
age to the death of wife, and the despair that
folJowed it; and these tirneless times among the Arabs ever
since: years of deep friendship with royal who with
sword had carved for blmself state out of nothingness and
stopped only step short of rea! greatness; years of wander
ing through deserts and steppes; risky excursions amidst Ara
beduin warfare and into the Libyan figbt for indepen
dence; long sojoums in where 1endeavoured to roundoff
knowledge of Islam in the Prophet's Mosque; repeated
grimages to marriages with beduin girls, and subsequent
divorces; warm relationships, and desolate days of lone
liness; sophisticated discourses with cultured Muslims from
parts the world, and joumeys through unexplored regions:
these years submergence in world far removed from the
thoughts and aims Western existence.
What 10ng row of years ..
. these sunken years now to the surface, uncover
their faces again and call with voices: and sud
denly, in the start1ed jerk of heart, 1 perceive how long, how
endleSs way has been. always been going and
going,' 1 say to myself. never yet built your life into
something that cou1d grasp with his hands, and never has
there been answer to the question "Whereto1" ..
going and wanderer through lands, guest
hearths, has never stilJed, and al
though are stranger more, struck root.'
Why is it that, after among the people
who believe in the things 1 myself to 1
stl"uck root 1
Two years ago, when 1 took an Arab wife in Medina, 1 wanted
her to give son. Through this son, Talal, who was to
us few months ago, 1 have to feel that the Arabs are
48
kin as well as brethren in faith. I want to have his roots
deep in this land and to grOW. in consciousness his great
heritage of blood as well as culture. might tblnk,
shouId enough to make desirous of settling down for
good, of building for himself and his family lasting Why
is it, tben, tbat wanderings yet over and that I have
still to continue way1Why is it tbat the Hfe which I myself .
have chosen does not satisfy 1 What is it tbat I find
1acking in this environment 1 Certain1y not the intellectua1 in
terests of Europe. I have left them behind I do not miss
them. Indeed, I so remote from them tbat it has in
crea.singlydifficult for to write for the European newspapers
wblch provide with livelihood; every I sendoff an
it seems as if I were throwing stone into bottom1ess
well: the stone disappears into the dark void and not even an
comes to tell tbat is has reached its goa1...
While 1 thus cogitate disquiet and perplexity, half sub
merged in the dark waters of well in an Arabian oasis, 1sud
den1y hear voice from the background of memory, the
voice of an old Kurdish nomad: If walerslandsmolionless in
pool il gro}f,'sstale and but when it movesandj/o)vsit
comesclear: too, in his wanderings. Whereupon, as if
magic, disquiet leaves I to 100k upon myself with
distant eyes, as might 100k at the pages of book to read
stoty from them; and lbegin to understand that l;fe could
not have taken different course. For when I ask myself, "What
is tbe sum tota1 of l' something in seems to answer,
ou set out to exchange one world for another - to gain
new world for yourself in exchange for an old one wblch you
never really possessed.' And 1 know with startling clarity that
such an undertaking might indeed take an entire
1 CLIMB OUT of the well, put the clean, 10ng tunic wblch 1
brought with and go back to the and to Zayd and the
camels; 1 drink the bitter coffee wblch Zayd offers and then
down, .refreshed and warm, near the the ground.
-2
CROSSED under neck and 1 100king in
to this Arabian night which curves over black and starlY.
OPPOSITB: Zayd .
BEGINNING 49
star flies in tremendous and there another, and
yet another: arcs of light piercing the darkness. Are they only
bits of broken-up planets, of sorne cosmic disaster,
now aim1essly flying througb the vastness of the universe?
. if you ask Zayd, wil1 tell you that tbese the fiery jave
lins with wblch angels drive away the devi1s that
nights stea1tbllyascend toward heaven to spy upon God's secrets
... Was it perhaps Iblis blmself, the king of de-.i1s, who has
just received that mighty throw of there in the east . . . ?
legends connected with tbls sky and its stars
familiar to tban the cbi1dhood ...
How could it otherwise? Ever since 1 to Arabial have
lived like Arab, worn only Arab dress, spoken only ArlblC,
dreamed dreams in Arabic; Arabian custorns and imageries
have imperceptibly shaped thoughts; 1havenot
hampered the mental reservations which usually makc
it impossible for foreigner - ever 50 well versed in the
manners and the language of the country - to find true
proach to the feelings of its people and to make their wor1d his
own.
And suddenly I to laugb aloud with the laughter of
piness and freedom:- so 10ud thatzayd looks up in astonish
ment and dromedary turns its head toward with slow,
faindy supercilious movement: for now 1 see how simple ai1d
straigbt, jn spite of its 1ength, - rcad
from world wblch 1 did not possess to world truly own.
to this land: was jt not, in truth, bome-coming?
Home-coming of the heart that has espied its old back
ward over curve of thousands of years and now recognizes this
sky, sky, with rejoicing? I:"or this Arabian sky - so
much darker, higber, more festive witb its stars tban other
sky - vau1ted tbe 10ng of ancestors, th,ose wander
ing herdsmen-warriors, when, thousands of -years ago, tbey set
out in tbe powerof their morning, obsessed greed for latid
and booty, toward tbe fertile country of Chaldea and un
known futurc: that small beduin tribe of Hebrews, forefathers of
tbat who was to in Ur of the Chaldees.
'That Abraham, did not reallybelong in Ur. was but
among Arabian tribes which at or another
had wound their way from tbe hungry deserts of the Peninsula
OPPOSITB: Author'.I1 Arab Wife Munira.and Son Talal (]932)
50 ROAD
toward northern dreamlands were said flowing
with milk and - the settled lands of the Fertile Crescent,
Syria and Sometimes such tribes succeeded in
overcoming the settlers they found there and established them
selves as ru]ers in their gradua11y intenningling with the
vanquished and evolving, together with them, into new
the Assyrians and Babylonians, who erected their
kingdoms the ruins of the earlier Sumerian civilization; or
the Chaldeans, who grew to power in Babylon, or the Amorites,
who later to as Canaanites in Palestine and as
Phoenicians the coasts of Syria. At other times the oncomi.ng
nomads were too weak to vanquish those who had arrived earl
ier and were absorbed them; altcrnatively, the settlers
pushed the nomads back into the desert, forcing them tofi.nd
other pastures and perhaps other lands to conquer. clan of
Abraham - \\'hose original according to the Book of
Genesis, \vas Ab-Ram, which in ancient Arabic means ofthe
Desirc' - was evidently of those weaker tribes; the
BibJical story of their sojoum at Ur the fringe of the desert
relates to the time they found that they could not win for
themselves new homes in the land of the Twin Rivers and were
about to northwest along the Euphratestoward and
thence to Syria.
of the High Desire,' that early ancestor of mine whom
God had drivel1 toward unknown spaces and so discovery
of his own self, would well understood why 1 here - for
also had to wander through lands before could build
his into something that might grasp with your hands,'
and had to guest mai1y stiange hearths before was allow
ed to strike root. his awe-commandingexperience puny
perplexity would riddle. would known-as
1 kno\v it now - t11at the rneaning of wanderings lay jn
bldden desire to rnyself meeting world whose approach
to the innermost questions of to reality itself, was different
from 1 had accustomed to in Cllildbood and youth.
-3
LONG WAY, frorn childhood and youth in
tral Europe to present in Arabia; but what pleasant way
for rememberance to travel backward ...
BBGINNJNG ltOAD 51
'were those early childbood years in the Polisb city of
Lw6w - then ustrian possession - in tbat' was as
quiet and dignified as tbe street which it stoOO: strcct
of somewhat dusty elegance, bordered witb chestnut and
paved with woOO blocks that muflled the beat of thehorses'
booves and converted every of the day ioto after
1 10'100 that street witb consciousness far beyond
childish years, and not because it was the street ofmy
110ved 1think, because oftbe of self-possession
witb which 1t flowed from gay of tbat gayest of cities
toward the stillness tbe woOOs the city's and tbe
gre.at cemetery that hidden in those woOOs.
would sometimes fly past silent wbeels 1:0 the
paniment of brisk, rhytbmic trap-trap of prancing hooves,
if it happened to winter and the street was blanketed with
foot-deep snow, sledges would glide over it and steam would
in cl0.uds from the horses' nostrils and their bells would
tinkle througb the frosty air and if yourself sat in the sledge
and felt frost rush by.and bite cheeks, childish
heart knew tbat galloping horses were carrying into
happiness that had neitber beginning end.
And tbere were the summer months the country,where
mother's father, wealthy banker, maintained large estate for
his family's pleasure. sluggish litt1e streamwith
trees along its banks; bams fuH of placid cows, chiarciscuro
mysteriously pregnant with the scent of animals and and
laughter of Ruthenian peasant girls who were busy in
evenings with milking; would drink the foaming warm milk
straight pails - not because were thirsty, but
cause 1t was exciting to drink sometbing that was 50 close to
i15 animal source . . . hot August days spent in tbe fields
"ith tbe farmhands who were wheat, and with
women who gathered and bound it in sheaves: \vomen,
to 100k - heavy of body, fuH of breast, with "'arm
arms, the strength of which you could feel when they i'Olledyou
playfuny at' noontime tbe \vheat 5tacks: but, of
course, were young then todraw further
sions from tbose laughing embraces ...
.And there were journeys with paren15to Vienna and
and the Alps and Bohemian forests and tbe North Sea
52 ROAD
and the Baltie: places 50 di5tant that they alm05t seemed to
new worlds. Every time set out 5ueh journey, the fir5t
whistle of the train engine and the first jolt of the wheels made
one's heart stop beating in antieipation of the wonders that were
now to unfold themselves . .. And there were playmates, boys
and girls, brother and sister and cousins; and glorious
Sundays of freedom after the dullness - but not too oppressive
dullness - of weekdays in sehool: hikes through the countryside,
and the first meetings with lovely girls of own
age, and the blush of strange exeitement from which
covercd only after hours and hours ...
It was childhood, satisfying in retrospect.
parents in comfortable circumstances; and they lived
ly for their ,;hildren. mother's placidity and unruffied,quiet
have had 50mething to do with the ease with which.jn later
years 1 \vas able to adapt myself to unfamiliar and,
most adverse conditions; while father's inner restlessness is
probably mirrored in
1F 1 D to describe father, 1 would say that this lov,ely.
slim, middle-sized of dark complexion and dark, passionate
eyes was not quite in tune with his surroundings. In his early
youth had dreamed of devoting himself to science,
physics, but had never able to realize this dream and had to
content himselfwith being barrister. Although quite successful
in this profession, in which his keen mind must found
\velcome challenge, never reconciled himself to it fully; and
the air of lonelinesg.{hat surrounded him caused
awareness that his true calling had eluded

His father had orthodox rabbi in Czernowitz, capital
of the then Austrian province of Bukovina. 1still remember
as graceful old \vith very delicate hands and sensitive
face framed in long, white beard. Side side with his deep in
terest jn mathematics and astronomy - which he studied in his
spare time throughout his life - was of the best chess
of t11e district. This was probably the basis of his long
standing frjendship \vith archbishop, him
5elf chess player of note. two would spend eveo
BEGINNlNG OF THEROAD 53
ing together ovcr the chessboard and would round off thcir ses
sions discussing the metaphysical propositions of thcir
pe.ctive religions. might have presumed that, with such
ofmind, grandfather would have welcomed his son's
father's - inclination toward science. But apparently had
made his mind from the very first that his elde!it son \vould
the rabbinical tradition which went back in the family
for several generations, and refused even to consider other
for father. In this resolve have strength
ened disreputable skeleton in the family cupboard: the
memory ofan uncle ofhis - that is, great-great-uncle ofmine
who had in the most unusual way 'betrayed' the family tradition
and even turned away from the religion of his forefathers.
almost mythical great-great-uncle, whose was
never mentioned aloud, seems to have brought in the
strict family tradition. At very young age had
full-fledged rabbi and married off to woman whom
apparently did not love. As the rabbinical profession did not
bring sufficient remuneration in those days, supplemented his
income trading in furs, which every year necessitated
to Europe's central fur market, Leipzig. day, when
was about twenty-five years old, set out horse cart - it was
in the first half of the nineteenth century - of these long
joumeys. Leipzig sold his furs as usual; but instead of
turning to his town as usual, sold the cart and the horse
as well, shaved off his beard and sidelocks and, forgetting his
10vedwife, "..ent to England. For eamed his living
work, studying astronomy and mathematics in the even
ing. patron to have recogniZed his menta1 gifts and
enabled him to pursue his studies at Oxford, where
emerged after few years as promising scholar and convert
to Christianity. Shortly after sending letter of to his
Jewish wife, married girl.from among the 'gentiles. Not
was known to our family about his later Hfe, except that
achieved considerable distinction as astronomer and
versity teacher and ended his days as knight.
horrifying example seems to persuaded grand
father to take very stern attitude regarding father's inclin&
toward the study of 'gentile' sciences; had to
'rabbi, and that was that. father, however, was not prepared
54 &OAD
to give in easily. While studied the Ta1mud in daytime,
spent part of his nights in studyingsecretly, without the help of
teacher, the curriculum of humanistic In time
confided in his mother. Although her $On's surreptitious studies
burdened her conscience. her generous nature made
her realize that it would 00 to deprive him of chance to
follow his heart's desire. At the age oftwenty-two. after complet
ing t eight course of within four
fathrl presented himself for the baceaIaureate examination and
passed it with distinction. With the in hand. and his
mother now dared to break the terrible news to grandfather.
1 imagine the dramatic scene that ensued; but the upshot of
it was that grandfather ultimately relented and agreed that
father should give up his rabbinical studies and attend the
university instead. financia1 circumstances of the family did
however. allow to go in for his 0010' ed study of
sics; had to turn to lucrative profession - that oflaw
aiid-1n barrister. Some later settled in the
city Lw6w in eastem Galicia and married
the four daughters rich local banker. in the summer
of 1900, 1 was as the second of three children.
father's frustrated desire expressed itself in his wide read
ing scientific subjects and perhaps a1s0 in his peculiar, though
extrernely reserved, predilection Cor his second son - myselC
who also seemed to interested in things not immediately
connected with the making and successful 'career'.
Nevertheless, his hopes to make scientist of were destined
to remainunfulfilled. Although not stupid, 1 was indiffer
ent student. Mathematics and natural sciences were particularly
: .->ring to 1Coundinfinitely more pleasure in reading the stir
ring historical romances Sienkiewicz. the Cantasies of Jules
Veme, Red Indian storie8 byJamesFenimore and
and, later, the verses ofRilke and the sonorous cadences of
Alsosprac/J Zarathustra. mysteries gravity and electricity,
less than Latin and Greek grammar, left entirely cold
with the result that 1 a1ways got promotions the skin
myteeth. must been keen disappointment to
father, but found some consoiation in the fact that :
teachers seemed to 00 satisfied with inclination to
ward literature - both Polish and German - as well as history.
BEGINNING ROAD 55
In accordance with our family.'s tradition, 1 received, through
private tutors at thorough grounding in Hebrew
gious This was not due to pronounced religiosity in
parents. belonged to generation which, while paying lip
service to or another of the religious faiths that had shaped
the lives of its ancestors, never made the slightest endeavour to
confonn its practical life or everi its ethical thought those
teachings. In such society the very concept of religion had
degraded to two things: the wooden ritual of those who
clung habit - 'ilnd only habit - to their religious heritage,
or the cynical insouciance of the more 'liberal' Wl10
sidered religion as superstition to which might,
occasion, outwar conform but of which was secretly
ashamed, as of something intellectually indefensibIe. aII
belonged to the former category; but
at times 1 have faintsuspicion that father, at inclined
toward the latter. Nevertheless, in deference to both his father
and his father-in-Iaw, insisted spending long hours
over scriptures. Thus, the age of thirteen, 1
could Hebrew with great fluency but also spoke it freelyand
had, in addition, fair acquaintance with Aramaic (which
possibIy account for the ease with which 1 picked up Arabic in
later years). 1 studied the Old Testament in the original; the
ishna and - that is. the text and the commentaries of
the Talmud - familiar to 1could discuss with good
deal of self-assurance the differences between the Babylonian
and Jerusalem Talmuds; andI immersedmyselfin the intricacies
of Biblical exegesis, called Targum, just as if 1 had destined
for rabbinical career.
In spite of this budding religious wisdom, or
cause of it, 1 soon developed supercilious feeling toward
ofthe premises ofthe Jewish faith. sure, 1did not disagree
with the teaching of moral righteousness so strongly emphasized
throughout the Je\vish scriptures, nor with the sublin\e God
consciousness ofthe Hebrew Prophets - but it seemed to that
the God 01the Old Testament and t'he Talmud was unduly
cemed with the ritual means of which Hi5 worsbippers were
supposed to worship It occurred to that this God
wa5 strangely preoccupied with the destinies of particular
nation, the Hebrews. very build-up of the 01d Testament as
56
blstoiy of the deseendants of Abraham tended to make
appear not as the creator and sustainer of mankind but,
rather, as tribal deity adjusting to the requirements
of 'chosen rewardin, with conquests if they were
,.ighteous, and making them at the hands of nonbelievers
whenever they strayed from the prescribed path. Viewedagainst
these fundamental shortcomings, the ethical fervour of the
later Prophets, like Isaiah and Jeremiah, seemed to barren of
universal message.
But although the effect of early studies of was the
opposite of what had intended -leading away from,
rather than closer the religion of forefathers - 1 often
think that in later years they helped to understand the funda
mental purpose of religion as such, whatever its form. At that
time, however, disappointment with Judaism did not lead
meto search for spiritual truths in other directions. Under the
influenee of agnostic 1vironment, 1 drifted, like so
boys ofmy age, into mat.er-of-fact rejection of all institutional
religion; and sinee religion had moreto
than series of restrictive regulations, 1 felt the worSe
for having drifted away from it. Theological and philosophical
ideas did not yet rea11y concern what 1was 100kingforward
to was not much different from the expectations of most other
boys: action,adventure, excitement.
Toward the end of 1914,when the Great War \vasalready rag
ing, the first big to fulfil boyjsh dreams seemed to
within grasp. At the age of fourteen 1 made escape
from school and joined the Austrian army under false 1
was tall fOT years and easily passed for eighteen, the
minimum age for recruitment. But apparently 1 did not carry
marshal's baton in knapsack. Mter week or so, poor
father succeeded in tracing with the of the poliee, and 1
\vasignominiously escorted back to, Vienna, where family
had settIed some time earlier. Nearly four years later 1was actu
and legitimatelyj drafted into the Austrian but
then 1 ceased to dream of military glory and was searching
for other ,avenUel to, se1f-fulfilhnent. In case, few weeks
after iriduction the revolutioR broke out, the Austrian
pire co11apsed, and the \var was over.
BEGINNING. ROAD 57
ABOUT TWO YEARS after the end of the Great War 1
studied. in somewbat desultory fashion, history of art and
philosophy at the University of Vienna. heart was not in
those studies. quiet academic did not attract 1felt
yearning to into more intimate griP5 with life, to enter it
without of th05e carefully contrived, artificial defences
which security-minded people love to build around them
selves; and 1 wanted to find myself approach to the spiri
tua1 order of things which, 1 knew, exist but which 1could
discem.
It is to explain in 50 words what 1 meant in
those days 'spiritual order' ; it certainly did not
to conceive of the problem in conventional religious terms
for that in precise terms whatsoever. vagueness,
to Cair to mY5elf, was notof own making. It was the
vagueness of entire generation.
The opening decades of the twentieth century stood in the sign
of spiritual vacuum. All the ethical va1uations to which
have so had
phous under the terrible impact what had happened
1914 and 1918. and new set values was yet an)'\\'here in
sight. feeling of brittleness and insecurity was in the air -
presentiment of social and intellectua1 upheavals that made
doubt whether there could ever again in
man's thoughts and endeavours. Everything seemed to flow
ing in form1ess flood, and the spiritual restlessness of youth
could nowhere find foothold. In the absence of reliabIe
standards ofmorality, nobody could give us young people
factory answers to the questions that perplexed us. Science
said. 'Cognition is everything' - and forgotthat cognitio!\ with
out ethical goal lead to social reformers,
the revolutionaries, the communists- ofwhom undoubtedly
wanted to build better, happier thinking only in
terms of outward, social andeconomic, circumstances; and to
bridge that defect, they hadraised their 'materialistic conception
of history' to kind of new, anti-metaphysical metaphysics.
traditionally religious people, the other hand, knew
nothing better tMn to attribute to their God qualities derived
from their own habits thought, which had long since
rigid add meaningless: and when young people sa\.... that these
''1 ROAD
often stooo in sharp contrast with what
was m the world around us, we told ourselves:
moving forces of destiny are evidently different from the quali
ties which ascnbed to God; therefore - there is God.'
And it occurred to only very few of us that the cause of this
confusion might lie perhaps. in the arbitrarihess of the self
righteous guardians of faith who claimed to the right to
'define' God and, clothing Him \vith their own garments,
separated from and his deStiny.
In the individual, this ethicallability could lead either to
plete moral chaosand cynicism alternatively, to search for
creative, personal approach to what might constitute the good
life.
instinctive realization have indirectly, the
son for choice of history ofart as subject at the uni
versity. It was the true function of art, 1 suspected, to evoke
vision of the coherent, unifying pattcrnthat must underlie the
fragmentary picture of happenings which our consciousness
veals to us and which, it seemed to could on1y inadequate
ly formulated through conceptual thought. HowQVer, the courses
which 1 attended did not satisfy professors - some of
them, like Strzygowski and Dvorak, outstanding in their
ular fields of study - appeared to concemed with dis
covering the' aesthetic laws that. govem artistic creation than
\vith baring its innermost spiritual impu1ses: in other words,
their approach to art was, to mymind, too narrowly confined to
the question of the /orms which it expressed itself.
conclusions ofpsychoanalysis, to which 1 was introduced
in those days ofyouthful perplexity, left equaHy, iffor some
what different reasons, unsatisfied. No doubt, psychoanalysis
was at that time inteHectual revolution ofthe first magnitude, '
and onefeltinone's bones that thisflinging-openofnew,hitherto
barred doors of cognition was bound to affect deeply - and per
haps change entirely - man's thinking about himself and his
sockty. discovery of the role which unconscious urges play
in the formation of the human personality opened, beyond
question, avenues to more penetrating than
had offered to us the psychological theories of earlier
times. this 1 ,vas ready to concede. 'Indeed, the stimulus of
Freudian ideas ,vas as intoxicating to young mind as potent
59 BEGINNING OF ROAD
wine, and were the evenings 1 spent in Vienna's cafes lis
tening to exciting discussions between some of the early pioneers
of psychoanalysis, such as Alfred Adler, Steckl and
Otto Gross. But while 1 certainly did not dispute the validity of
its analytical principles, 1 was disturbed the intellectual
gance of the new science, which tried to reduce mysteries of
man's Self to series of neurogenetic reactions. philo
sophical 'conclusions' arrived at its founder its devotees
somehow appeared to too pat, too cocksure and over-simpli
fied to anywhere within tlle neighbourhood of ultimate
truths; and they certainly did not point new way to the good
life.
But although such problems often occupied mind,they
did not really trouble 1 \vas never given to meta
physical speculation to conscious quest for abstract 'truths'.
interests lay more in the direction of things seen and felt:
people, activities and relationships. And it was just then that
was beginning to discover relationships with women.
the general process of dissolution of established
mores that followed the Great War, restraints betwcen the
sexes had loosened. What happened was, 1 think, 110t so
revolt against the strait-lacedness of the nineteenth
century as, rather, passive rebound from state of affairs in
which certain moral standards had deemed eternal and
unquestionable to social condition in which everytblng was
questionable: swingi'ng of the pendulum from yesterday's
forting belief in the continuity of man's upward progress to the
bitter disillusionment ofSpengler, to Nietzsche's mora1relativism,
and to the spiritual nihilism fostered psychoanalysis. Looking
backward those early postwar years, 1feel that the young
and women who spoke and wrote with so enthusiasm
about 'the body's freedom' were very far indeed from the.ebul
lient spirit of they so often invoked: their raptures were too
self-conscious to exuberant, and too easy-going to revolu
tionary. Their sexual relations had, as rule, sometblng casual
about them - certain matter-of-fact blandness \vhich often led
to promiscuity.
Even if 1 had felt myself bound the remnants of conven
tional morality, it would have extremely difficult to avoid
being drawn into trend that had so widespread; as it
60
ROAD
was, 1 rather gloried, like 50 of generation, in
what was considered 'rebellion against the conven
tions.' Airtations grew easily into affair5, and some ofthe affairs
into passions. 1do think, however, 1was libertine; for
in those youthful loves of mine, however fiimsy and short
lived, was always the lilt of hope, vague but insistent,
that the frightful isolation wblch so obviously separated
from might broken the of and
woman.
RESTLESSNESS GREW and made it increasingly difficult
for to pursue university studies. At last 1 decided to give
them up for good and try hand at journalism. father,
with probably more justification 1 \vas tben willing to
cede, strongly objected to such course, maintaining that before
1 decided to make writing career 1 should at least prove to
myself that 1 could write; 'and, in concluded after
of our stormy discussions, Ph.D. degree never yet
vented man from becoming successful writer.' His reasoning
was sound; but Iwas very young, very hopeful and very restless.
When 1 realized that \vould not change bls mind, there
seemed.notblng left but to start life own. Without telling
of intentions, 1 said good-bye to Vienna sununer
day in 1920 and boarded train for Prague.
All 1 possessed, from personal belongings, was dia
mond ring wblch mother, who had died year earlier, had
left 1 sold through the good offices I;>f waiter in
Prague's literary cafe. Most .probably 1 was thoroughly
gypped in the transaction, but th& sum of wblch 1
ceived appeared !ike fortune. With this fortune in pocket 1
to Berlin, where some Viennese friends introduced
to the magic circle of [itterateurs and artists at the old Cafe
des Westens.
1knew that henceforth 1 would have to make way un
aided; 1 would never again expect or financial help from
family. Some \veekslater, when father's anger had 'abated
\vrote '1 already see ypu ending one day as
tramp in roadside ditch'; to which 1 repJied: 'No roadside
ditch for - 1 will out How 1would out
BEGJNNJNG 61
top was not in the least clear to but I knew that I wanted to
write and was, of course, convinced that the world of letters was
waiting for with wide
After few months cash out and I began to cast
for job. young with journaJistic aspirations, of
the great was the obvious choice; but I found out that 1
was 'choice' to them. 1 did not find it out It took
\veeks of tiresome tramping the pavements of Berlin
for subway streetcar fare had then
lem - and endless of humiliating interviews with
editors-in-chief and ne\vs editors and sub-editors, to realize tbat,
barring fledgling without single printed line to
credit bad not the slightest of being admitted to the
red precincts of newspaper. No miracle way. Instead,
1 acquainted witb hunger and spent several weeks sub
sisting almost entirely the tea and the two rolls which
landlady served in the morning. literary friends at the
Cafe des Westens cou]d not do for raw and inexperi
enced 'would-be'; most of them lived in circum
stances not different from own, hovering from day to
day the brink of nothingness and struggling to keep
their chins water. Sometimes, in the flush of afI1uence
duced Iuckily placed article or picture sold, another
of them wou]d throw with and frankfurters and
\\'ould ask partake of the sudden bounty; rich
would invite group of us strange il1teEectual gypsies to supper
in his flat, and would gaze at us with awe \vhile we gorged our
empty stomachs with caviar canapes and repaying
host's munificence \Vit}l clever talk and 'insight into
mian life.' But such treats were only exceptions. rule of
days was stark hunger - and in the nights sleep was filIed
\vith dreams of steaks and sausages and thick slices of buttered
bread. Several times 1\vas tempted to \vrite to father and beg
him for help, which surely would nothave refused; but
time pride stepped in and 1wrote to him instead of the won
derful job and the good salary 1 had . .. .
last lllcky break 1 \Vas introduced to F. \V.
who jU5t then was rising to fame director (thi5
yenr5 HollY'vooddrew him to 5till gre,lter and
to untimely, tragic death); and \vith that ""'himsical
62
impulsiveness whichendeared to his friends;at took
fancy to tbe young wbo was 100king so and with
50 in the face of adversity, tOward the future.
asked if 1would not like to work under new
was about to begin: and although the job was to only tem
1saw the gates opening before as 1
nered, es, 1 would ... '
For two glorious free of financial worries and
absorbed host of glittering unlike
.. 1 had ever kno\vn, 1 worked as Murnau's assistant.
,;elf-confidence and it was certainly not
'iminished the fact that the leading lady of the fiIrn - weB
and very beautiful actress - did not averse to
flirtation with the director's young assistant. When the was
finisbed and Murnau had to abroad for new 1
took with convictionthat worstdayswereover.
Short1y afterward, good friend Anton Kuh - Viennese
journalist who bad recently to in as
theatre critic - invited to collaborate with film sce
which had commissioned to write. 1 accepted the
Idea with enthusiasmand put, 1 believe, much work into the
script; at any rate, producer who had commissioned it g1adly
paid the sum agreed wblcbAnton and 1dividedfifty-fifty.
order to celebr:ate our 'entry into the world offilms,' we
"arty of the fasblonable restaurants in and
we received tbe we found that practically entire
lrnings bad gone up in 10bster, caviar and Frencb wines. But
luck held out. V/e immediate1y sat down to writing another
- fantasy woven the figure of and
)izarre, experienceof his - and found buyer
;). tbe very it was completed. bowever, 1 refused
;) 'celebrate' our success, and \\'ent instead sevetalweeks'
.10liday'to the Bavarian lakes.
After anotber of adventurous ups and downs in vari
'us citiesof Central Europe, involvingaIl of short-lived
>bs, 1succceded-at )as1 in breakinginto world ofjournalism..
BREAK-THROUGH took in the autumn 1921,
after another period offinanciall0W. afternoon, while1was
63 BEGINNING ROAD
sitting in the Cafi des Westens, tiredand disconsolate, friend
of sat down at table. Wheri Irecounted ttoubles to
him, suggested:
might for Dammert is start10g news'
agency of his own in co-operationwith the United Prcss of
America. It will called the United Telegraph. 1 that
will need large number of 1'11 introduce to
if like:
Or. Oammert was well-known figure in the political circles
ofBerlin in the twenties. Prominent in the ranks ofth{
Centre Party, and wealthy in his own right,
excellent reputation; and the idea of working under
pealed to
Next day friend took to Dr. DammerCs ele
gant, middle-aged was suave and friendly as invited us to
seated.
'Mr. Fingal' (that was friend's 'has spoken to
about Have ever worked before as journalist ?'
'No, sir,' 1 replied, 'but 1 have had plenty ofother
1 something of Eastern countries and
know several of the (In fact, the ollly Eastern
language 1 could speak was Polish, 1 had only the
vaguest idea ofwhat was going in that oftheworld; but 1
was resolved not to let spoiled undue modesty.)
that is interesting,' remarked Dr. Oammert witll half
smile. '1 have penchant for experts. But, unfortunately, 1 can't
use Eastern European affairs just now.'
must have seen the disappointment in face, for
qtlickly continued: 'Still, 1 opening for
although it somewhat beneath standing, 1 won
der .. .'
'What is the opening, sir?' 1enquired eagerly, thinking of
unpaid rent.
. 'Well ... 1 need several telephonists...
don'{ \vorry, not at s\vitchboard: 1 telephonists to trans
mit news the provincial newspapers ...'
was indeed comedown from high expectations. 1
looked at Or. Oammertand looked at and 1 saw
the tightening of the humorous creases around his eyes, 1 k!lcw
that boastful game was
64 ROAD
'1 accept, sir,' 1 answered with sitili and laugh.
following week 1 started ne:W job. It was boring job
and far cry from the journalistic 1 had dreaming
of. 1 had nothing to do but transmit telephone, several times
dai1y, news from mimeographed sheet to provincial
newspapers that subscribed to the service; but 1 was good tele
phonist and the was good, too.
This went for about month. At the end of the month
unforeseen opportunity offered itself to
In that of 1921 Soviet Russia was stricken famine of
unprecedented dimensions. Millions of were starving and
of thousands dying. entirc European press \vas
buzzing with gruesome descriptions of the situation; severaI
foreign re1ief operations were being planned, among them
Herbert Hoover, who had done so for Central
after the War. large-scale action "iithin Russia was
headed Maxim Gorky; his drarnatic appeals for aid were
stirring the entire world; and it was rumoured tI1at his wife
would shortly visit the capitaIs of Central and Western
in attempt to public opinion for effective
Ilelp.
Being only telephonist, 1 did not participate directly in the
coverage of this sensational episode until remark
of acquaintances (1 had of them in the
strangest places) suddenly dre\y into its midst.
was night doorman at the Esplanade, 01'
Iin's sV.iankiest, and the remark had 'This Madame Gorky
is very pleasant Iady; would never guess that sIle is
shie .. .'
'Madame Gorky? Where the did see Iler ?'
informant 10wered his voice to whisper: 'She is staying
at hoteI. yesterday, but is registered under assumed
Only the manager knows who she realIy is. She doesn't
\vant to pestered reporters.'
'And how do know it?'
'We doormen know everything that goes in: the boteI,'
replied with grin. 'Do think we could keep jobs for
lon!! jf we didn't1'
What story it would make toget exclusive intervie'f with
Madame Gorky - the more 80 as not word of her presence in
BEGlNNING OF ROAD 6S
hadso penetrated to the press...1 was at

'Could 1 asked friend, 'somehow make it possible
for to see herT
'Wel1,1 don't know. She is obviously dead-set keep1ng her
self to herself... But 1 couJd do thing: if sit in the
the evening, 1 might to point her out to
That was deal. Irushed back to office at the United Tele
graph; almost had gone that time, but fortu
nately the news editor was still at his desk. 1 buttonholed
give press card if 1 promise to br1ng back
sensational story
'What kind story?' enquired suspiciously.
give the press card 1'11 give the story. If 1
don't, always the card back.'
,Finally the old news-hound agreed, and 1 emerged the
the proud possessor card which designated as
representative the United Telegraph.
next few hours were spent in the the Esplanade.
o'clock friend arrived duty. From the doorway
winked at disappeared behind the reception desk and
appeared few minutes later with the information that Madame
Gorky was out.
'If sit here long enough, you're sure see her when she

At about eleven o'clock 1 caught friend's signal. was
pointing surreptitiously to lady who had just entered the
volving door: smalI, delicate woman middle forties,
dressed in extremely wel1-cut black gown, with 10ng black
silk trai1ing the ground behind her. She was so genuinely
aristocratic her bearing that it was indeed difficult to imagine
her as the wife of the 'working-man's and still diffi
as citizen of the Soviet Union. Blocking her way, 1 bo\ved
and proceeded to address in most engaging tones:
'Madame Gorky ... ?'
For instant she appeared startled, then soft smile
lighted her beautiful, black eyes and she answered in
that only faint trace of Slav accent: '1 not Madame
Gorky... mistaken - is so-and-so' (giving
Russian-sounding which 1 forgottcn).

66 ROAD
'No, Madame Gorky,' 1 persisted, '1 know that 1 not mis
taken. 1 also know that do not wa'i),t to bothered us
reporters - but it would great deal, very great deal to
to allowed to speak to for few minutes. This is
. to establish myself. 1 sure would not like to
destroy that ... 7' 1 showed her press card. '1 got it
only today, and 1will have to retum it unless 1produce the story
of intervie\v with Madame Gorky.'
aristocratic lady continued smile. 'And if 1 wereto tell
word of honour that 1 not Madame Gorky, would
believe then ?'
'If were to tell anything your word of honour, 1
would believe . '
She burst out laughing. ' seem to nice little . ' (
graceful head reached hardly to shoulder.) '1 m not going to
t,.1I any lies. win. But we ' spend the rest of
the evcning here in the lobby. Would give the pleasure of
having tea with in ? '
And so Illad the pleasure of having tea with Madame Gorky
in her rooms. For nearly hour she "'ividly described the hor
rors of the ; and when 1 left her after rnidnight, 1 had
thick sheaf of notes with . .
sub-editors night duty at the United Telegraph opened
their eyes wide seeing at that unusual hour. But 1 did not
bother to explain, for 1 had urgent work to do. Writing own
interview as quickly as 1 could, 1 booked, without w ~ .lting for
editorial clearance, urgent press calls to ;:.ll the newspapers we
served.
Next morning the burst. While of the great Berlin
dailies had single word about Madame Gorky's presence in
town, all the provincial papers served our agency carried
their front pages tlle United Telegraph Special Representative's
exclusive interview with Madame Gorky. telephonist had
made first-class scoop.
In the aftemoon conference of editors took place in Dr.
Dammert's . 1 was called in and, after preliminary lecture
in which it was explained to that news item of importance
ought ever to go out without first being cleared the news edi
tor, 1 was informed that 1 had been promoted to reporter.
At last 1 was journalist.
BEGlNNING OF ROAD 67
-4
SOFT STEPS in the sand: it is Zayd, returning from the weH
with fiHed waterskin. lets it faH with plop the ground
the fire and resumes cooking our dinner: rice and the meat
of little lamb that bought in the village earlier in the evening.
Mter final stir \vith his ladle and burst of steam from the
turns to
'Wilt thou eat now, uncle?' - and without waiting for
reply, which, knows, anytblng but Yes,
heaps the contents of the pot to large platter, sets it before
and lifts of our brass cans, fiHed with water, for to
wash hands:
and God grant us life.'
And we sitting cross-Iegged opposite other
eating with the fingers of the right hand. .
We eat in silence. Neither of us has ever great talker.
Besides, 1 have somehow thrown into mood of
brance, thinking of the times that passed before 1 to Arabia,
before 1 even met Zayd; and so 1 speak aloud, and speak
only silently within myself and to myself, savouring the mood of
present through the moods of past.
After our meal, as 1lean against saddle, myfingers playing
with the sand, and gaze at the silent Arabian stars, 1 think how
good it would to have side someone to whom 1 could
speak of that has happened to in those distant years. But
there is nobody with except Zayd. is good and faithful
and was companion in day of Ioneliness; is
shrewd, delicate in perception and weH versed in the ways of
man. But as 1 look sidewise at his - this clear-cut
framed in long tresses, now bent with serious absorption over
the coffeepot, now turning toward the dromedaries which rest
the ground nearby and placidly cllew their cud - 1 know that 1
need quite' another listener: who not only has had part in
that early past of mine but would also far away from the sight
and smell and sound of the present days and nights: before
whom 1could unwrap the pinpoints of remembrance
so that his eyes might see them and eyes might see them
again, and who would thus help to catch own life within
the net of words. .
nut there is nobody here but Zayd. And is present.
III
WINDS
-1
E R.IDE, RIDE, two dromedaries,
'N
the glides past us.
'It is strange, very strange,' zayd's voice breaks
the
'What is strange, Zayd?'
'Is it strange, that fcw days ago
were going to and nO\\I cameIs' heads point toward
1 sure thou didst not know it thyself that
night. art wayward Iike badmvi ... like myself. Was it
jinn, uncle, gave that decision, years
ago, to go to thee at - and gave LlOW thy decision to
to we Ietting ourselves thus blown around
the winds because we do kLlO\V what we. want?'
'No, Zayd - thou and 1, we alIow ourselves to blown the
winds because we do know what we want: l1earts know it,
if thoughts sometimes sIoi-v folIow - but in the
end they do catch with hcarts and then we tl1ink we
made decision ...'
PERHAPS HEART knew it that day ten years
when 1stood the planks of the ship tI1at was bearing
first journey to the Near East, south\vard through the
Black Sea, through the opaqueness of \vhite, rimless,
night, through foggy morning, toward the Bosporus. sea
was Ieaden; sometimes foam sprayed deck; the pound
ing of the engines was Iike the beat of heart.
1stood at the rail, looking out into the pale opaqueness. Ifyou
had asked what 1\\'as thinking then, what expectations 1
was carrying with into this first venture to the 1
hardly to give clear ans\ver. Curiosity -
11aps: but it was curiosity which did not take itself serious
- 68
WINDS 69
ly because it seemed to aim at things of great
fog of uneasiness, \vhich seemed to find something related in
the welling fog over the sea, \vas not directed toward foreign
lands and the people of coming days. The images of near fu
the strange cities and the foreign clothes and
manners which were to reveal themselves 50 soon to eyes
hardJy occupied thoughts. 1 regarded this journey as
thing accidental and took it, as it were, il1 stride, as pleasing
but not too important interlude. At that moment
thoughts were perturbed and distracted what 1took to
preoccupation \vith past.
The past? Did 1 ha 1 was twenty-two years old ...
But generation - the generation of those who had born
at the turn ofthe century - had lived perhaps quickly
any other before it, and to it as if 1were looking back
into long expanse of time. the difficulties and adventures of
those years stood before eyes, those longings and attempts
and disappointments - and the women - and first assaults
Hfe ... Those endless nights under stars, when did
know wl1at \val1ted and walked with friend through the
empty streets, speaking of ultimate things, quite forgetting ho\v
empty the pockets were and how insecure the coming day ...
happy discontent which only youth feel, and the desire to
change the world and to build it anew .... How should
nity shaped so that could live.rightly and in fuHncss?
How should their relationships .arranged so that they might
break through the loneliness which surrounded every and
truly live in communion? What is good - and what evil? What
is destiny? Or, to put it differently: what should do to i>e
reaHy, and not merely in pretensions, identical with one's
lifeso that could say, '1 and dcstiny are Dis
cussions which never to end ... The literary cafes of
Vienna and Berlin, \vith their intermil1abIe arguments
'form,' 'style' and 'expression,' about the meaning of political
freedom, the meeting of and Hunger ,'or
understanding, and sometimes for food as And tl1c
nights spent in passions \vithout restraint: dishevellcd bed
da\vn, \vhen the excitement of tl1c night \\'as ebbing. and slo\vly
grey and rigid al1d desolate: but \vhen the nlOrning
had forgottcn the ashes of the da\vnand \valkcd ag;lin \\'itll
70
swinging steps and felt the earth trembIe joyfully under one's
feet . '.' excitement of new book new face; searching,
and finding balf-replies; and those very moments when the
world seemed suddenly, for seconds, to stand still, illumined
the flash of understandil1g that promised to reveal something
that had never touched to the ques
tions ...
HAD BEEN strange years, those early T\venties in Central
gent:ral atmosphere of social and insecurity
hfid given rise to desperate hopefulness which expressed itself
in daring in music, painting and the theatre, as well
as in groping, often revolutionary enquirjes into the morphology
culture; but hand-in-hand witb this forced optimism werit'
spiritual emptiness, vague, cynical relativism out in
creasing hopelessness with regard to the future of
In spite of youth, it had not remained hidden from that
after the catastrophe of the Great War things were longer
right in the broken-up, discontented, emotionaBy tense and
high-pitched world. Its real deity, 1 saw, was
ger of spiritual kind: it was Comfort. No doubt there were stiU
individuals who felt and thought in religious terms and
made the most desperate efforts to reconcile their beliefs
with the spirit of their civilization, but they were only
tivns. average - whether democrat communist,
worker intellectual- seemed to know posi
tive faith: the worship of material progress, the that there
could other goal in life than to make that very life continu
easier as the current expression went, 'independent of
temples of that faith were the gigantic factories,
cinemas, laboratories, dance-halls, hydroelectric
works; and its priests were the engineers, politicians,
film stars, statisticians, captains of indu'stry, record airmen, and
commissars. Ethical frustration was evident in the lack
of agreement about the meaning of Good and Evil and in the
submission of al1 social and issues to the of'ex-
pediency' - tbat painted lady of the streets, wil1ing to give
self to anybody, at time, whenever she is invoked ...
insatiabIe craving after power and pleasure bad, of necessity, led
WINDS 71
to the break-up of Westem society into hostile groups armed to
the teeth and, determined to destroy other whenever and
wherever their respective interests clashed. And the cultural
side, the was the creation of typc whose
morality appeared to confined to the question of practical
uti1ity alone, and whose highest criterion of right and wrong was
material success. "
1 saw how confused and our life had how
little there was of communion between and des
pite the stridert, almost hysterical, insistence
and 'nation'; how far we had strayed from our instincts; and
how narrow, how musty our souls had I'saw all tbls:
but somehow it seriously to - as it never
seemsto to ofthe people around - that
answer, at least partial answers, to these perplexities might
begained other than Europe's own cultural
ences. Europe was the beginning and the end of our thinking:
and even discovery of Lao-tse - at the age of seventeen or so
- had not altered outlook in this respect.
. WAS REAL discovery; 1 had never before heard of Lao-tse
and had not the slightest inkling of his philosophy when day
1chanced German translation ofthe Tao-te-king lying
the counter of Viennese bookshop. strange and title
made mildly curious. Opening the book at random, 1glanced
at of its aphoristic sections - and felt sudden thrill,
like stab of happiness, which made forget surroundings
and kept rooted where 1 stood, speHbound, with the book in
hands: for in it 1saw life in its serenity, free of
cleavages and conflicts, rising in that quiet gladness which is
al\vays to the heart whenever it cares to avail itself
of its own freedom ... This was truth, 1 knew it: truth that
had a!ways true, although we had forgottenit: and 1
recognized it with the joy whichone returns to long
lost ...
From that time onward, for several years, Lao-tse was to
window through which 1 could look out into the glass-clear rc
gions of life that was far away from narrowness and self
created fears, free CJfthe childish obsession which was forcing us,
72 ROAD
from moment to always to secure existence anew
means of 'material improvemenC atany price. Not that
material improvement seemed wrong even unnecessary
to the 1 conti.,ued to regard it as good and
necessary: but at the same ti'11c 1 was convinced that it could
never achieve its end - to increase the sum total of happi
ness - unlcss it were accompanied reorientation of spirit
ual attitude and new faith in absolute values. But how such
reorientation could brought about and of what kind the
valuations to was not quite clear to It would certain
ly idle to that would change their aims
and thus the direction of their endeavours - as soon as someone
started prcaching to as Lao-tse did. that should
oneself up to life instead of trying to grab it to himself and thus
to do violence to it. Preaching inte1Jectual realization
alone could obviously not produce change in spiritual
tude of European society; new faith of the heart was needed,a
burning surrender to val\les which toleratedho Ifs and Buts: but
whence to gain such faith ... ?
It someho\v did not enter mind that Lao-tse's chal
lenge was aimed not merely at passing and therefore change
intellectual but at some of the most fundamental
concepts out of which that attitude Had 1 known this, 1
would forced to conclude that could not pos
sibJy attain to that weightless serenity of soul of which Lao-tse
spoke, unlcss it summoned the courage to question its own spirit
ual and ethical roots. 1 was, of course, too young to arri\'e
sciously at such conclusion: young to grasp the challenge of
Chinese sage in al1"its implications and its entire grandeur.
his message shook to innermost; it revealed to
the vista of life in which could \vith his des
tiny -and so \vith himself: but as 1 did not clearly see how such
philosophy could transcend mere contemplation and trans
latedfnto reality in the context of the Europcan way of Jife, 1
gradually began to doubt whether it was rea1izable at 1 had
not yet reached the point 1\vould ask myselfwhether
the European way of life was. in its the only pos
sibIe In other \vords, like the other people around 1
was entirely\vrapped in Europe's egocentric cultural outlook.
And so. although his voice was never q';lite silel1ced, Lao-tse
WJNDS 73
receded, step step, into the background of comtempIative fan
tasies, and in time ceased to than the of lovely
poetry. continued to read off and and felt each
the stab of vision; but each time put the book away
with wistful regret that this was only dream to ivory
tower. And although 1felt very at odds with the discordant
bitter, greedy world of which 1 was 1 did not wish to live
in ivory tower.
there was warmth in for of the aims and
deavours which at that time flowed through intel1ectual
atmosphere and fil1ed its literature, art and politics\vith buzz
animated controversies - for, however contradictory to
another most ofthose aims and endeavours they
had obviously thing in : the assumption
that life could lifted out of its present confusion and 'better
ed' if only its outward - economic orpolitical - conditions were
bettered. 1strongly felt even then that materialprogress,by itself,
could not provide solution; and although 1did not quite kno\v
where solution might found, 1was never to evince \vith
in myself that enthusiasm which contemporaries had
'progress'. . .
Not that 1 was 1 had never introvert, and
just then 1 was enjoying than usual measure of success in
practical affairs. While 1 was hardly inclined to give
weight to such, woork at theUnited Telegraph - \vhere
owing to knowledge of languages, 1 was sub-editor in
.charge of the news service for the press - seemed
to avenues into the world. des
Westensand its spiritual succcssor, the Romanisches Cafe
meeting places of the most outstal1ding writers, artists, jcur
nalists, actors, producers of the day - represented something like
intellectual to 1 stood friendly and sometimcs
even famiJiar terms \\'itI1 \vho famous names, and
regarded - at lC:lst in outlook if in - as !of
thern. blcndships and fleeting loves way. was
. exciting, of promise and colourflJl in the varietyof its im
plcssions. No, 1 was certainly not only deeply dis
satisfled, unsatisfied, not kno\\'ing what I \vas a[ter, and at
t11e same time \vith the absurd arrogance of youth,
day 1would kno\v it. And so 1s\vung along 011 tl1e
74 ROAD
dulum of heart's content and discontent in exactly the same
way as other young people were doing in those strange
years: for, while of us was only few
to consciously
1 was not unhappy: but inability to share the diverse
social, economic and political hopes ofthose around - of
group among them - gcew in time into vague sense of
quite belonging to them, accompanied, vaguely again,
desire to belong - to whom? - to of something - of
what?
THEN ONE DAY, in thespring of 1922, 1 received letter
from uncle Dorian.
Dorian \vas mother's youngest brother. relationsblp
had always rather of friends than of uncleand nephew.
was psychiatrist - of the early pupils of Freud - and
that time headed mental hospital in Jerusalem. As was
Zionist himself and did particularly sympathize with the
aims of Zionism - for that matter, was attracted to the
Arabs - he felt lonely and isolated in world which had nothing
to offer but work and ineome. Being unmarried, thought
of his nephew as likely in his solitude. In his letter
referred to those exciting days Vienna whenhe had guided
into the new world of psychoanalysis; and concluded:
'Why don't and stay some months with here? 1will
for journey coIning and going; will free to
tum to whenever like. And while
will living in delightful old stone house is
in summer (and damned cold in winter). We shall spend
time well together. 1 have plenty of books here, and when
get tired of observing the quaint scenery
read as as want ...'
1made mind with the promptness that llas always char
acterized major decisions. Next morning 1 informed
Dammert at the Hnited Telegraph that
siderations' .forced to go to the Near East, and that 1 w<;Juld
therefore have to quit the agency within week ...
Ifanyone had told at that time that first acquaintance
with the world of Islam go far beyond holiday experi
WINDS 75
a.nd indeed tumiitg point in life, 1would have
laughed off the idea as utterly preposterous. Not that 1 was im
pervious to the allure of countries associated in mind - as in
the minds of most Europeans - with the romantic atmosphere
of the Nig/ltS: 1 did anticipate colour, exotic customs,
picturesque encounters; but it never occured to to anticipate
. adventures in the realm ofthe spirit as well, and the new journey
did not seem to hold out special promise of personal
ture. the ideas and impressions that had previously
way 1had instinctively related to the Western world-view, hoping
to attain to broader reach of feeling and perception within the
cultural environment known to And, if you to
think of it, how cou1d 1 have felt differently? 1 was only very.
veiy young European, brought in the belief that Islam and
it stoOO for was more than romantic by-path of man's his
tory, not even quite 'respectable' from the spiritual and ethical
points of view, and therefore not to mentioned in the same
breath, stillless to with the only two faiths which
the West considers fit to taken seriously: Christianity aod
Judaism.
It was with this hazy, European bias against things Islamic
(though not, of course, against the romanticized outward
pearances ofMuslimlife) that 1set out in the summer of 1922
joumey. If, il1 faimess to myself, 1 say that 1 was self
absorbed in individual sense, 1 was the less, without
knowing it, deeply enmeshed in thatselfabsorbed, culturally
egocentric mentality 50 characteristic of the West at times.
AND NOW 1 STOOD the planks ship way to the
East. leisurely had brought to Constanza "and
thence into this foggy morning.
red sail emerged out of the veils of fog and slipped close
to the ship; and because it had visible, knew that the
suo was about to break through the fog. few pale rays, thin as
threads, the mist over the sea. Their paleness had some..,
thing of the hardness of metaI. Under their pressure the milky .
masses of fog settled slowlyand heavily over the water, then beni
apart, and rose to the right Ieft of the sun i'ays in
widespread, drifting arcs, like wings.
76 ROAD
'Good morning,' said deep, fuU voice. 1 turned around and
recognized the bJack cassock of companion of the previous
evening, and the friendly sm1le face which 1 had grown to
Jike during the few hours of our acquaintance. Jesuit padre
was half PoJish and half French and taught history at co))egein
Alexandria: was now returning there from vacation. We
had spent the evening after embarkation in lively talk. Although
it soon that we differed widely issues,
we had, nevertheless, points of interest in and 1
was already mature enough to recognize that here \vas bril
liant, serious and at the time humorous mind at work.
'Good moming, Father Felix; look at the sea.. .'
Daylight and colour had up with sun. We stood in
the ofthe Sl1ip under the morning wind. Tempted the
possibility, 1 tried to determine for myself the movement of
colour i11 the breaking \vaves. Green? Grey? It could have
blue - but already shimmer of amaranth red, reflecting
the sun, glided over the slopc of the wave, while the
crest broke up into snowy and steel-grey, crinkly rags raced
over it. What ago had wave-hill was now
trembling - the breaking-open of thousand
independent eddies in whose shaded cavities the amaranth red
changed into dcep, satiated green; then the green rose up, chang
ing into oscil1ating violet, which at first back into wine red,
but immediately after shot up as turquoise bJue and the
crest of the wave, to break up agam; and again the wblte
foam spread i15 net dommeeringly over the writhing water-hills
.... And and went the unending play... '
It gave alrnost physical sensation of disquiet never to
to grasp tbls play of colours and its eternally changing
rhythm. When 1 looked at it quite superficia11y, only from the
corncr of as it were, 1felt, for seconds, that it might
possible to catch this integrated image; but delj:
berateconcentration, the habit of connecting isolated
cept with another, led to nothing but series ofbroken-up, separ
ate pictures. But out of this difficulty, this strangely irritating
confusiol1, idea 10 with great clarity - or so i1
seerned to at the time - and 1said, almost involuntarily:
"Vhoever could grasp this with his senses \vould to
master C1estiny.'
WINDS 77
'1 know what replied Father Felix, 'But why
should desire to master destiny? escape from suffering?
WouId it better free of destiny?'
speak.ing almost like Buddhist, Father Felix. 00
regard Nirvana as the goalof being
00, certainly not. " We Christians do not aim at the
of life and feeling - we desire only to lift life out of the
region of the rn:aterial and seosual into the realm of the spirit.'
is this not renunciation l'
'It is renunciation, young friend. lt is the only way to
true to .. .'
The Bosporus opened itself to us, broad \vaterway framed
botll sides rocky hIOs. and there could see pil
lared, airy palaces, terracedgardens, cypresses rising in
their dark height, and old janissary castles, heavy masses of
stone hanging over the water like nests of birds of prey. As if
great distance, 1 heard the voice of Father Felix
tinue:
see, the deepest symbol of longing - people's longing
- is the symbol ofParadise; find it in religions, always in
imageries, but the is always the same - namely
the desire to free from destiny. people of Paradise had
destiny; acquired it only after they succumbed to the temp
tation of the flesh and thus into \Vhat we Original Sin:
the stumbling of the spirit over the hindering urges of body,
which are indeed the animal remnants within man's nature.
esscntial, the the humanly-divine 01' is his
soul alone. soul strives toward light, which is spirit: but
cause the Original Sin its way is hampered obstacles arising
from the material, non-divine composition of the body and its
urges. What Christian teaching aims at is, therefore, man's
freeing himselffrom the non-essential, ephemeral, carnal aspects
of his and returning to his spiritual heritage.'
ancient, twin-towered fortress of Rumili Hissar
peared; of its creneHated walls sloped down almost to the
water's cdge; the shore, within semicircle formed the
fortress walls, lay dreaming little Turkish ceJnetery \vith
broken-down tombstones.
so, Father Felix. 1 feel - and this is the feelil1g
of people of generation - 1 feel that there is something
78 ROAD
wrong in making distinction between the "essential" and the
"non-essential" in the structure of and in separating spirit
and flesh ... in short, 1 agree with your'flenying right
eousness to physical urges, to the flesh, to earthbound destiny.
desire goes elsewhere: 1 dream of form of life - though 1
must confess 1 do not see it clearly as yet - in which the entire
spirit and would strive after deeper and deeper
fulfilment of his Self - in which the spirit and the senses would
not enemies to another, and in which c,ould
achieve unity witllin himself and with the meaning of his des- .
50 that the summit of his days could say, "/
destiny." ,
'That was the Hellenic dream,' replied Father Felix, 'and
where did it lead? First to the Orphic and Dionysian mysteries,
then to Plato Plotinus, and so, again, to the inevitable
that spirit and flesh are opposed to another ...
make the spirit free from the domination of the flesh: this is
the meaning of Christian salvation, the meaning of our belief in
the Lord's self-sacrifice the Cross.. .' Here, interrupted
himself and turned to with twinkle: 1fiill not always
missionary pardon if 1speak to of faith, which is
not yours '
1 1 assured
'Yes,' said Father Felix, '1 know; the lack of faith, rather
the inability to is the central i1lness of our time.
like so others, living in illusion which is thousands
of years old: the i1lusion that intellect alone give direction
to man's striving. the intellect reach spritual know
ledge itself because it is too absorbed in the
ment of material goals; it is faith, and faith alone, that re
lease us from such absorption.'
'Faith ... ?' 1 asked. again bring in this word. There is
one thing 1 can't understand: say it is impossible to attain
through intellect alone to knowledge and to righteous
faith is needed, say. 1 agree with entirely. how does
achieve faith if has Is there to it - 1
way to our wi1l1'
dear friend - will alone is no.t enough. way is only
opened God's grace. it is always opened to who
prays from the innermost of his heart for enlightenn1ent.'
WINDS
pray! But when is to do this,Father
ready hasfaith. You choose to lead around in circle - for if
prays, must already of the existence of
Him to whom prays. How did to this conviction?
his intellect? Would not this amount to admitting that
faith found through the intellect? And from that,
"grace" anything to somebody who has never had
experience of this kind '/'
priestshrugged his shoulders, regretfully, it seemed to
'If has not to God himself,
should allow himself to guided the experiences of others
who experienced .. .'
FEW LATER we landed at Alexandria and the same
aftemoon 1 went to Pa1estine.
train swept straight as arrow through the aftemoon
and the soft, humid Delta landscape. Nile canals, shaded the
sails of barges, crossed our path. SmaJl towns, dust-grey
clusters of houses and lighter minarets, and went. Villages
consisting of box-shaped mud huts swept past. Harvested cotton
fields; sprouting sugar-cane fields; abundantly overgrown palms
over village water buffa]oes, bIack, heavy-limbed,
now going without guide from the muddy pools in which
they had wallo\ving during the day; In the distance, in
long garments: they seemed to Boat, so light and clear was the
air under the high, sky of glass. the banks of the
reeds swayed in the wind; women in bIack tulle c.loaks \vere
scooping water into earthenware jars: wonderful women, s]en
der, 10ng-limbed; in their wa]k they reminded of 10ng-stem
med plants that sway tenderly and yet fu1] of strength in the wlnd.
Young girls and matrons had the same floating walk.
dusk grew and flowed like the breath of some great, rest
ing, living being. As tbe slim were walking homeward from
the fields, their movernents appeared lengthened and at tbe same
lifted out of the slowly disappearing day: step seemed
to existence of its own, rounded in itself: between eter
nity and eternity always that step. This appearance oflight
and sD100thness was perhaps due to the exhilarating
light of the Nile Delta - perhaps also to own rest]essness
80 ROAD
at seeing new things - whatever the cause, 1sudden
felt in myself the weight of the weight of deliberate
iri actions. 1 thought to myself, 'How difficult it
is for, us to attain to rea1ity... We always try to grab it: but it
does not like to grabbed. where it does
it surrender itself to
step of the Egyptian field labourers, already 10st in dis
tance and darkness, continued to swing in mind 1ike
of high things.
We reached 'the Suez made turn at right angle, and
glided for while toward the al011g the grey-black bank. It
was like drawn-out melody, this 10ng of the at night.
moonlight turned the waterway into something like
but dream-broad way, dark band of shining metal. sati
ated earth of the Nile valley had with astonishing rapidity made
for chains of sand dunes which the both
sides with paleness and sharpness rarely to seen in any other
night landscape. In the listening silence stood, here and there,
the skeleton of dredge. Beyond, the other bank,
rider rushed rushed - hardly seen and already swaHowed
the night ... What great, simple stream: from the Red Sea,
through the Lakes, to the Mediterranean Sea - right
across desert - so that the Indian might beat the
quays of ...
At Kantara the trainjourney \vas interrupted for whi1e and
lazy ferry carried the traveHers across the si1ent \vater. was
almost an before the departure of the Palestinian train. 1
sat down before the st'ation building. air was warm and dry.
was the desert: to the right and to the left. Shimmering
grey, smudged over, broken through isolated barking
haps it was jackals, perhaps dogs. beduin, heavi1y 10aded
with saddlebags made of bright carpet cloth, from the
ferry and walked toward group in the distance, \vhich now
1 recognized as motionless and crouching camels, ready
saddled for the It seemed that the new arrival had been
expected. threw his saddlebags over of the anima1s, few
words were exchanged, the men mounted and, at the same
moment, the camels rose, first their hind legs, then ontheir
forelegs - the riders rocked and back\vard - then they
rode away with soft, swishing sounds, and for while could
WINDS 81
fol1ow light-coloured. swaying bodies of animals and the
wide. brown-and-white-striped beduin cloaks.
railway workman strol1ed toward wore blue over
and seemed lame. lit his cigarette from mine, then
asked in broken French:
ou are going Jerusalem?' And when 1 said Yes,
tinued: 'For the first
I nodded. was to go turned back and said:
'Did over there big caravan from Sinai Desert?
No? along, let us visit have time.'
soles of our shoes crunched in sand as we walked
through the silent emptiness narrow, path
wmch led into dunes. dog barked in darkness. As we
went stumbling over low thornbushes, voices reached
ears - confused, mufRed, as of people - and sharp and
nevertheless soft smel1 of resting animaI bodies mingIed
with the dry desert Suddenly - just as might see in city,
during foggy night, the shimmer of as yet invisibIe Iamp
grow from behind street comer and make only the fog
sh.ine - narrow streak of Iight appeared from down below, as
if from under ground, and climbed steeply into the dark air. It
was shine of fire, coming from deep gorge between two
sand dunes, so thickl)' covered with thornbushes that could
not see its 1 could now clearly hear men's voices, the
speakers were'still invisible. 1 heard breathing of camels, and
how rubbed against another in the narrow big,
black shadow fell over light, ran opposite
slope and down again. After few more steps 1could see it
great circle of crouching cameIs with heaps of pack-saddles
and bags here and there, and among them the figures of
animal smell was sweet and heavy like wine. Sometimes
of the cameIs moved its body, which was smudged out of its
shape the darkness around it, lifted its neck and drew in the
night air \vith snorting sound, as if sighing: and thus 1 heard
fo[ the first time sighing ofcameIs. sheep bleated softly;
dog growled; and everywhere outside the gorge the !light was
black and starless.
It was already late; 1 had to get the station. But 1
walked very sIo\vly,down the path which we had dazed
and strangely shaken, as mysterious experience which had
F
82 ROAD
caught bold of comer of beart and would not let go.
TRAIN CARRIED through the Sinai Desert. 1 was
exbaustOO, sleepless from the cold of tbe desert night and the
rocking ofthe train over rails resting loose sand. Opposite
sat in voluminous brown also was freez
ing and bad wrapped his in his headcloth. sat cross
legged the bench, and bls knees lay curvOO sword in
scabbard with silver. It was nearly moming. You
could almost recognize the outlines of the dunes outside, and the
cactus bushes.
I still remember how tbe dawn broke - grey-black, paint
ing shapes, slowly drawing outlines - and how it graduaHy lifted
the sand dunes out of the darkness and built tbem into har
monious masses. In the growing half-light, group of tents
and rushed and near them, silver-grey, like fog
tains in the wind, fishing nets spread verticaHy between poles for
drying: fisblng nets in the desert - blowing in the morning wind
- dream veils, transparent, unreal, between night and day.
tbe right was the desert; to the left the sea. the shore
lonely camel-rider; perhaps had riding night; now
to asleep, slumped in the saddle, and they both rock
00, man and camel, in rhythm. Again black beduin
tents. Already there were women outside \vith jars
their heads, ready to go to the weU. Out half-light that
grew into light diaphanous world was emerging, moved in
visible pulses, wonder of all that is sirnple and never end.
sun struck out over the sand with broader and broader
rays and the greyness of dawn burst into an orange-golden fire
work. We sped through the oasis of A1-Arish, through colon
nadOO cathedrals of palms with thousand pointed arches of
palm fronds and brown-green latticework oflight and shade. 1
saw woman with fiHed jar her head coming from the well
and going slowly path under the palms. She wore red-and
blue dress with long train and was lilce high lady from
legend.
palm orchards of AI-Arish disappeared as suddenJy
tbey had We were now travelling through shell-coloured
light. Qutside, behind the shaking windowpanes, stillness such
WINDS
83
as 1 never had thought po!'sible. and movements were
devoid of yesterday and tomorrow - they were simply there,
in heady uniqueness. sand, built up the wind into'
soft hillocks that glowed p:lle orange under the sun, like very old
parchment, only softer, brittle in their breaks and curves,
swinging in sharp, decisivc violin strokes the summits, infi
n;tely tender in the with translucent water--colour sha
dows - purple and rusty pink - in the shallow dips and
hollows. Opalescent cloutls. cactus bushes here and there and
sometimes long-stemmed. hard grasses. twice 1 saw
barefooted and camel loaded with
palm fronds which they wcre carrying somewhere to
where. 1 felt enwrapped the great landscape.
Several times we stoppcd at smal1 stations, usua11y
than barracks oftimtler and tin. Brown, tattered boys
around with baskets and olfered figs, hard-boiled eggs and fresh,
flat loaves bread for sa/c. beduin opposite rose slow
Iy, unwound his headcloth opened the window. His was
thin, brown, sharply drawJ1, those hawk faces which al
ways look intently ahead. bought piece cake, turned
around and was about to sit down, when his fel1
without word, broke 11is cake in two and offered half.
When saw and astonishment, smiled - and 1
saw that the smile fitted his as we11 as the intentness
moment ago - and sl.1id word which 1 could not under
stand then but now know was ta/addal- 'grant the favour.' 1
took the cake and thanked with nod. Another traveller
wore, with the exceptiol1 ofhis red fez, European clothes and
sma11 tradcr - intervened as translator. In halt
ing English said:
say, you trave11er, trave11er; your way and his way is to
gether.' .
When 1 now think thi:; little occurrence, it seems to that
later love for the character must influen
ced it. For in the gesture of this beduin, who, over bar
riers strangeness, sensetl friend in accidental travelling
companion and broke bread with him, 1 must already have fclt
the breath and the step humanity burden.
After short while old Gaza, castle mud, living
its forgotten sand cactus wa1ls. beduin
84 ROAD
collected his saddlebags, saluted with grave smile and nod
and left the carriage, sweeping the dust behind with the lorig
train of his cloak. Two other beduins stood outside the plat
form and greeted with handshake and kiSs both
cheeks.
English-speaking trader put his hand
along, still quarter-hour
Beyond the sation building caravan was encamped; they
were, companion informed beduins from northem
had brown, dusty, wild-warm faces. Our friend was
among them. appeared to person of some account, for
they stood in loose semicircle around and answered his
questions. trader spoke to and they tumed toward us,
friendly - and, 1 thought, somewhat superciliously - considering
our urban existence. atmosphere of freedom surrounded
them, and 1 felt strong desire to understand their lives. air
was dry, vibrating, and seemed to the body. It loosen
cd stiffness, disentangled thoughts and made them lazy
and still. There was qua1ityoftimelessness in it which made
things seen and heard and smeHed assume distinct values in their
own right. It began to dawn that people who from
the environment of the desert must sense in way quite dif
ferent from that people in other regions; they must free
from obsessions - perhaps also from dreams
peculiar to inhabitants of colder, richer lands, and certainly from
oftheir limitations; and because they to rely more in
timately' their own perceptions, these desert dwellers must set
quite different scale values to the things the world.
Perhaps it was presentiment of coming upheavals in own
life that gripped that first day in Arab country at the
sight of the beduins: the presentiment of world which lacks
defining limits but is, .the less, never formless; which is
fuHy rounded in itself - and nevertheless sides:
world that was soon to own. Not that 1 was then
conscious of what the future held in store of course not.
It was, rather, as when you enter strange house for the first
time and indefinable smeH in the hallway gives you dimly
hint of things which will in this house, and will happen
to you: and if they are to joyful things, you feel stab of rap
ture in your heart - and you wilJ remember it much later, when
WINDS 85
those happenings have long since taken place, and you will
tell yourself: this 1 have sensed long ago, thus and in .
other way, in that first moment in the
-2
STRONG WIND blows through the desert, and for while
Zayd thinks we going to have another sandstorrn. But al
though sandstorm the wind does not leave us. It fol
lows us in steady gusts, and the gusts flow together into single,
unbroken sough as we descend into sandy valley.
village in its consisting several settlements
surrounded mud waH- is veiled in mist whirling
sand dust.
This is kind ofwind hole: every day from dawn to sun
set the wind beats here with strong wings, settling down during
the night, only to rise again the next 'moming with renewed
force; and the palm trees, eternaHy pressed down its blows
grow to their fuH height but remain stunted, close to the
ground, with broad-spread fronds, always in danger from the
encroaching dunes. village would have long ago buried
in the sands had not the inhabitants planted rows of tamarisks
around every orchard. These taH trees, more resistant than
palms, form with their strong trunks and ever-green, rustIing
branches living waH around the plantations, offering them
doubtfuI security.
We alight before the mud house ofthe village amir, intending
to rest here during the heat.

set aside for the
ception of guests is bare and poverty-stricken and displays only
small straw mat before the stone coffee hearth. But, as usual,
hospitality overcomes poverty': for hardly have we
taken our places the mat when friendly fire of twigs crackles
the hearth; the ringing sound of the brass mortar in which
coffee beans are being pounded ,gives livable
character to the room; and mighty platter piled with light
brown dates meets the hunger of the travellers.
Our host - smaH, Iean old with rheumy, squinting eyes,
clad only in cotton tunic and headcloth - invites us to
. take of this fare:
God give life; this house is your house, eat in the
of God. This is we have' - and makes apologetic
86
gesture with his single movement in the whole
weight of bls fate is expressed with that artless power evoca
tion so peculiar to people who live close to their instincts - 'but
the dates are bad. Eat, wayfarers, of what we offer
you ....
dates are reaUy among the best 1 have ever eaten; and the
host is obviously pleased our hunger which satisfy.
And goes
wind, the wind, it makes our life hard; but that is God's
wiU. wind destroys our plantations. We must always strug
g1e to keep them from being Covered sand. It has always
thus. In earlier times there was not so much wind here, and .
the village was big and rich. Now it has grown smaH; of
our young going away,for everyone bear such
life. sands are closing in us day day. Soon there wiH
room left for the wind ... But we do
complain... As you know, the Prophet - God bIess
him - told us: "God says, Revile destiny,for, behold - /
destiny ..." ,
1must have started, for the old stops speaking and looks
at attentively; and, as if comprehending why 1 started,
sm.iles with almost woman's smile, strange to see in that tired.
wom-out face, and repeats softly. if to himself:
'. . . behold, / am destiny' - and in the nod with which
companies his words lies proud, silent his own
in"life; and never have 1seen, even in people, es
to reality expressed with so much quiet and sureness. With
wide, vague. almost sensual tum of his describes "circle
in the air - circle which encompasses that belongs
to this life: the poor, dusky room. the wind and its etemal roar.
the relentless advance of the sands; longing for happiness, and
resignation to what changed; the platter fu1l of date!l;
the struggling orchards behind their shield of tamarisks; t11e
the hearth; young woman's laughLer somewhere in the
courtyard beyond: and in these things and in the gesture that
has brought them out and together 1seem to hear the song of
stroog spirit wblch knows barriers of circuJ11stance and is at
with itself. .
1 carried back to long past, to that autumn day in
Jerusalem ten years ago. when another poor old spoke to
WINDS 87
of surrender to God, whicb alone to at
with Him and 50 with destiny.
DURING UTUMN 1 was living in uncle Dorian's
house just inside the Old City of Jerusalem. It rained almost
every day and, not being to go I often sat at the
window which overlooked Iarge yard behind the house.
yard belonged to old Arab who was called because
had performed the pilgrimage to rented out donkeys
riding carrying and thus made the yard kind of
vanserai.
Every moming, shortly dawn, loads vegetable5 and
fruits were brought there camels the surrounding viI
lages and sent out donkeys into the narrow bazaar streets
the town. ln daytime the bodies the cameIs could
seen resting the ground; were always noisily attending to
them and to the donkeys, unless they were forced to take refuge
in the stables from the streaming rain. were ragged
those and donkey drivers, but they behaved like
great lords. When they sat together at meals the ground and
ate flat loaves wheat bread with little bit of cheese few
olives, 1could not but admire the nobi1ity and ease oftheir
ing and their inner quiet: could see tl13t they had respect
themselves and the everyday things of their lives. /,ajji,
bling around stick - for suffered arthritis and had
swoHen knees - was kind of chieftain among them; they
peared to \vithout question. Several timesa day
sembled them for and, if it was not raining too hard, they
prayed in the the in single, long row and as
their imam in front of them. were like soldiers in the
cision of their movements - they would bQ\\' together in the
direction of rise again, and then kneel down and touch
the ground with their foreheads; they seemed to foHow the in
audible \\'ords of their leader, who bet\veen the prostrations
stood barefoot his carpct. eyes closed, arms folded
over his chest, soundlessly movil)!! his Ilps and ob'v"iously lost in
deep absorption: could see that w...s praying with his
whole soul. .
Jt somehow disturbed to see so combined
88 ROAD
with almost mechanical body movements, and 1 asked
the hajji, who understood little English:
'Do you really that God expects you to show your
respect repeated bowing and kneeling and prostration?
Might it not ....: better only to look into oneself and to pray to
Him in thc 8tilloc:::58 of Why alI these movements of

As soon as 1 had uttered these words 1 felt for 1 had
not intended to injure the old man's religious feelings. But the
hajji did not in the least offended. smi1ed with 00
toothless mouth and replied:
'f,low else then should we worship God? Did not create
both, soul and together? And tOO being so, should man
nqt with 00 body as well as with his soul? Listen, 1 will tell
why we Muslims pray as we pray. We turn toward the
God's holytemple in knowing that the faces of
Muslims, wherever they turned to it in prayer,
and that we are 1ike body, with as the centre of our
thoughts. First we stand upright and recite from the
Koran, that it is Word. given to that
upright and steadfast in life. we say, "God is the
Greatest," reminding ourse1ves that deserves to wor
shipped but and bow down deep we honour
all, and praise His power and glory. Thereafter we pros
trate ourselves foreheads because we feel that we are but
dust and nothingness before and that is Creator
and Sustainer we lift our faces from the ground
and remain sitting, praying that forgive us our sins and
stow His us, and guide us aright. and give us health
and sustenance. we again prostrate ourselves the ground
and touch the dust witl1 our foreheads before the might and 'the
glory of the After that, \ve rcmain sitting and that
bIess the Prophet Muhammad who brought message to us,
just as blessed the earlier Prophets; that bless us as
weH, and those who follow the right guidance; and we ask
Him to give us of the good of this world and of the good of the
world to In the end we turn our heads to the right and to
the left, saying, and the grace of God - and
thus greetaH who righteous, wherever they
'It was thus that our Prophet used to pray and taught his fol
WINDS 89
lowers to for times, 50 that might \\;llingly surren
der themselves to God - which is what Islam - and so
at with Him and with their own destiny:
old did not, of course, use exactly tl\cse words, but
this was their mea.ning, and this is how 1 ears
later 1 realized that with his simple explanation the had
opened to tnefirst door Islam; but long before
thought that Islam might own faith entered
mind, 1 began to feel unwonted 1saw, as 1
often did, standing barefoot his rug,
straw the earth, with his arms 'olded his
chest and his head lowered, entirely submerged \vithin himself,
oblivious of what was going him, whether it was in
or the sidewa1k of busy street: at with
himself.
STONE of which Dorian had \vritten
was delightful. It stood the fringe ofthe Old
the Jaffa .Gate. Its wide, high-eeilinged rooms secmed to sat
urated with memories of the patrician life th'lt had passed
thrOUg11 them in earIier generations and the wal1s reverberated
with the living present surging into tOOm the ba:zaar
- sights and sounds and that were unlike 1 had
experienced before.
From the roof terrace 1could see the sharply outIined of
the Old City with its network of irregular streets and alleys
ved in stone. At the other end, seeming1y in its mighty
panse, was the site ofSolomon's the Mosque
the most sacred after those of and Medina - stood its
farthest and the Dome of the Rock in the cel1tre. Beyond it,
the 01d City waUs fell off toward the of Kidron; and 00'"
yond the grew soft1y rounded, barren hills. their slopes
thinly spotted with olive trees. Toward the east there was litt1e
more fertility, and you could see there garden sloping down to
ward the road, dark-green. hedged in walls: the Garden of
Gethsemane. From its midst shone between oJivc trees and
presses the golden, onion-shaped domes of the Russian Church.
Like oscil1atingbrew from ana1chemist's retort. and
nevertheless of thousand undefinable colours, beyond
90 ROAD
words, beyond the grasp thougbt: thus could
Crom the Mount the VaUCY tbe Jordan and the Dead
Sea. Wavy bills and wavy outlined, breath-like,
opalescent air, with the deep-blue Itreak of tbe Jordan and thc
rounding of tbe Dead sea - and still fartber beyond, 0
othet world in itself, tbe dusky of landscape of
such an incredible, multitonn beauty that your heart trembled
with excitement.
Jerusalem was new world to were bis
toric memories seeping from every corner of the ancient city:
streets that had beard preach, cobblestones over which
Christ had walked, walls that had old when tbe step
of Roman legionaries echoed from them, arches over doorways
tbat bore inscriptions ofSaladin's time. was the deep blue
of tbe skies, wblch migbt not unfamiliar to someone
who knew other Mediterranean countries: but to who had
grown up in far less friendly climate, tbis blueness was like
and promise. bouses and streets to covered
witb tender, oscillating glaze; the were of
taneous movement and grand ofgesture. people -tbat is, the
Arabs: for it was tbey wbo from tbe verybeginning impressed
themselves consciousness as the people oftbe land, people
who had grown out of its soi1 and its history and were with
tbe surrounding air. garments were colourful and of
Biblical sweep of drapery, and oftbem.Jel1a11 or beduin (for
you could often see beduins who to town to orsell
tbeir goods), wore tbem in manner quite his own, ever so
51ightly differenHrom tbe others, as ifhe had invented personal
fashion tbe spur of tbe moment.
In front of Dorian'5 house, at di5tance of perhaps forty
yards, rose tbe 5teep, time-wom walls David's Castle, wblch
was part of tbe ramparts the Old City - typical medieval
. citadel, probably erected Herodian foundations, with
51im watchtower like minaret. (Although it has direct con
nection witb David, the Jews always called it after
him because bere, Mount Zion, tbe old royal palace is said to
stood.) the Old City side there was 10w, broad tower,
througb whicb tbe gateway went, and bridge stonelP'ched
across the old moat to tbe gate. arched bridge w3s
parently customary place of rendezvous for beduins when
WINDS 91
bad to into the city. day 1 noticed
duin standing there without motion, 5ilhouetted again5t the
silver-grey sky like figure from old legend. His face, with
sharp cheekbones framed in 5hort, red-brown beard,
expression of deep gravity; it was sombre, as if expected
something and yet did not fee) expectant. His wide, brown-and
wblte-striped cloak was wom and tattered - and the fanciful
idea to 1 do not know why, that it had worn out
in of and flight. Wa5 perhaps, of
that handful of warriors who had accompanied young David
flight from dark jealousy of Saul, his king? Perhaps
David was asleep just now, hiding somewhere in cave in the
Judean hills, and this this faithful and brave friend,
had stealthily with into the city to find
out how Saul felt about leader and whether it was safe for
him to retum. And now this friend of David was waiting
for his comrade, of dark forebodings: it was not good news
that would bring David ...
Suddenly beduin moved. 5tarted walking down
and dream-fantasy broke.And then 1
start: this was an while those others, those figures of
the Bible - were Hebrews! But astonishment was only of
moment's duration; for at once 1 knew, \vith that clarity
which sometimes bursts within us like lightning and lights the
world for length of ihat David and David's
time, like and Abraham's were closer to their
roots - and 50 to the beduin of to-day - than to the Jew
of today, who claims to their descendant ...
1 often sat the stone balustrade below the Gate and
watched the throng ;of people going into coming out of the
Old City. Here they rubbed against other, jostled
other, Arab and Jew, all possible variations ofboth. There were
strong-boned fellahin with their white or brown headcloths
or orange-coloured turbans. There were beduins with sharp,
clear-cut and, almost without exception, lean faces, wearing
their cloaks in strangely self-confident manner, frequently with
hands blps and elbows wide apart, as if they took it fOT gran
ted that everyone would make way for them. were peasant
women in black or calico dresses embroidered \vhite
across bosom, often carrying baskets their heads and
92 ROAD
moving with supple, easy grace. Seen behind,
woman of sixty could taken for young gitl. eyes also
seemed to remain clear and untouched age - unless they
pened to affected trachoma, that evil Egyptian' disease
which is the curse of all countries east of the Mediterranean.
there were the Jews: indigenous Jews, wearing tarbush
and wide, voluminous cloak, in their facial type strongly
sembling the Arabs; Jews from Poland and Russia, who seemed
to with them so of the smal1ness and narrowness of
"their past lives in Europe that it was surprising to tblnk they
claimed to ofthe same stock as the proud Jew Morocco
Tunisia in his white But although the
were so obviously out of with the that
rounded them, it was they who set the tone of Jewish life and
politics and thus seemed to responsible for the almost visible
friction between Jews and Arabs.
What did the average European know of the Arabs in those
days? Practical1y nothing. When to the Near East
brought with him some romantic and notions; and if
was well-intentioned and inteHectuaHy honest, had to ad
mit that had idea at all about the Arabs. 1, too, before 1
to Palestine, had never thought of it as Arab land. 1had,
of course, vaguely known that Arabs lived there, but I
imagi.ned them to only nomads in .desert tents and
oasis dwellers. Because most of what 1had read about Palestine
in earlier days had written Zionists - who naturally had
only their problems in view - 1 had not realized that the
towns also were full of Arabs - that, in fact, in 1922 there lived
in Palestine nearly five Arabs to every Jew, and that, therefore,
it was Arab country to far blgher degree than country of
Jews.
When 1remarked to Mr. Ussyshkin, chainnan of the
Zionist Committee of Action, whom 1 met during that 1
had the impression that the Zionists were not inclined to give
consideration to the fact of Arab maJority; did they
seem to attribute real importance to the Arabs' opposition
to Zionism. Mr. Ussyshkin's response showed nothing but
tempt the Arabs:
i.s Arab movement against that is,
ffiQ'It.:ment with roots" in the people. that regard as
WINDS 93
position is in reality nothing but the shouting of few disgrun
tled agitators. It will collapse of itself within few months at
most few years.'
This argument was far from satisfactory From .
beginning 1 had feeling that whole idea of Jewish settle
ment in Palestine was artificial, and, what was worse, it
threatened transfer complications and insoluble
lemsofEuropean life into country which might have remained
happier without them. Jews were not coming it
returns one's homeland; were rather bent making
it into homeland conceived patterns and with
European aims. In short, were strangers within gates.
And 801 did not find anything wrong in the Arabs' determined
resistance idea of Jewish homeland in their midst;
contrary, 1 immediately realized that it was the Arabs who
were being imposed and were rightly defending themsleves
against such imposition.
In Balfour Declaration of 1917, which promised Jew8
'national in Palestine, 1 saw politicalmanoeuvre
designed foster old princip1e, colonial
of 'divide and In case of Palestine, this
ciple was flagrant as in 1916 British had promised
ruler of Sharif Husayn, as price his help
against Turks, independent state which was
prise countries between the Mediterranean Sea and
sian Gulf. not broke their promise later
cluding with France secret Sykes-Picot Agreement (which
tablished French Dominion Syria and the Lebanon), but
also, implication, excluded Palestine obligations
they had with regard the Arabs.
Although of Jewish origin myself, 1conceived outset
strong objection Zionism. Apart personal sym
pathy the Arabs, 1 considered it immora] that immigrants,
assisted foreign Great Power, should abroad
with avowed intention of attaining majority in country
and thus dispossess the people ....'hose country it had sincc
time immemoria1. Consequently, 1 was inclined take sidc
of Arabs whenever the Jewish-Arab question \vas brought
- which, of course, happenedvery often. This attitude of mine
was beyond comprehension of practically with
94 R.OAD
whom 1 in contact during those 1hey could not
understand what 1 saw in the Arabs wbo, according to them,
were more than mass backward people whom they
looked upon witb feeling not much different from tbat the
European settlers in Central Africa. were oot in tbe least
in what the Atabs thought; almost ofthem took
pains to learn and everyone accepted without question
.the dictum that Palestine was the rightful heritage of the Jews.
I.still remember brief discussion 1had this score with Dr.
Chaim Weizmann, the undisputed leader of the Zionist move
ment. had of his periodic visits to Palestine (his
residence was, 1 believe, in London), and 1 met
in the house of Jewish friend. could not but impressed
the boundless energy of this - energy tbat manifested
itself even in his bodily movements, in the 10ng, springy stride
with which up and down the room - and the power
of intellect revealed in the broad forehead and the penetrating
g1ance of his eyes.
was talking of the difficulties which were
setting the dream of Jewish National and the insuf
ficient response to this dream among abroad; and 1 had
the disturbing impression that even he, like most of the
Zionists, was inc1ined to transfer the moral responsibility for
that was happening in Palestine to the 'outside world'. im
pelled to break through the deferential hush with which
the other present were 1istening to and to ask:
what about the
1 must have committed afaux pas thus bringing jarring
note into the conversation, for Dr. Weizmann turned his face
slo\vly toward put down the had holding in his
hand, and repeated question:
'What about the ... l'
'Well- how ever hope to make Palestine your
land in the face of the vehement opposition of the Arabs who,
after are in the majority in this country?'
Zionist leader sltrugged his shoulders and answered drily:
'We expect they won't in majority after few years.'
have dealing with this problem for
years and must know the situation better than 1 do. But quite
apart from the political difficulties which Arab opposition
WINDS 9S
not put in way - does 1\ot the aspect of the
questicn ever bother you? Don't yo1.i think that it is wrong
your to displace the people who always lived in this
country?'
it is country,' replied Weizmann, raising his
brows. 'We doing than taking back what we
wrongly deprived of.'
you away from Palestine for nearly two thou
sand years! that you had rufed this country, and hardly
ever the whole of it, for less than five hundred years. Oon't you
tblnk that the Arabs could, with equal justification, demand
Spain for themselves - for, after they held sway in Spain for
nearly seven hundred years and lost it entirely five hundred
years ago?'
Weizmann had \'isibly impatient: 'Nonsense.
Arabs had only conquered Spain; it had their original
homeland, and so it was right that in the end they were
driven out the Spaniards.'
'Forgive 1 retorted, 'but it seems to that thereis some
bistoric!:il ovetsight After the Hebrews also as
to Palestine. Long before them were other
Semitic and tribes settled - the the
Edornites, the Phi1istines, the Moabites, the Those
tribes continued living ii.l the days of the Jdngdoms of
Israel and Judah. continued living the Romans
drove ancesto.rsaway. Iiving today. Arabs
who scttled in Syria and Palestine after their in the
seventh century v"ere alv.ays only small rninority ofthe popula
tion; the of what we describe today as Palestinian or Syrian
"Arabs" are in reality only the Arabianized, original inhabitants
of the country. Sorne of them Muslims in the course of
centuries, others remained c:hristians; the uslims naturally
inter-married with their coreligionistsfrorn But you
denythat the bulkofthosepeople in Palestine, who speak
whether uslirns Christians, direct-line descendants of the
original inhabitants: original in the of having lived in this
country centuries before the Hebrews to it?'
Weizmann smiled politely at outburst and turned the
conversation to other topics.
Ldid not feel about the outcome of intervention. 1
96 ROAD
. of course not expected of those present - least ofall Dr.
Weizmann himself - to subscribe to conviction that the
Zionist idea was mghly vu1nerabIe the mora1 pjane: but 1 had
hoped that defence of the Arab cause would at least give rise
to some sort of uneasiness the part of the Zionist leadersblp
uneasiness which might bring about introspection and
thus, perhaps, greater readiness to admit the existence of
sible moral right in the opposition of the Arabs... None of tbls
had about. Instead, 1 found myself facing blank wall of
staring eyes: censorious disapproval of temerity, wblch
dared question the unquestionabIe right of the Jews to the land
of their forefathers ...
How was it possibIe, 1 wondered, for people endowed with so
creative intelligence as ~ b e Jews to think of the Zionist
Arab conflict in Jewish terms alone? Did they not realize that
the problem of the Jews in Palestine , in the long ,
solved only through friendly co-operation with the Arabs? Were
they so hopelessly blind to the painful future wmch their
must bring? - to the struggles, the bitterness and the hatred to
which the Je\vish island, if temporari1y successful, would
forever remain in the midst of hostile Arab sea?
And how strange, 1 thought, that nation which had suffered
50 wrongs in the course of its long and sorrowful diaspora
was now, in single-minded pursuit of its own goal, ready to
flict grievous wrong nation - and nation, too,
thatwas innocent of that past JewisI1 suffering. Such
, 1 knew, wasnot unknown to history; but it made ,
theless, very sad to see it enacted before eyes.
I M E absorption in the poHtical scene in Pales
tine was grounded not merely in sympathy for the Arabs and
worry about the Zionist experiment, but also in revival of
journalistic interests: for 1 had special correspon
dent ofthe Frankfurter Zeifllng, then ofthe most outstanding
newspapers in Europe. This connection had aboutalmost
accident.
evening, while sorting out old papers which were clutter
ing of suitcases, 1 found the press card issued to
year belore in Berlin as representative ofthe United Telegraph.
WINDS 97
1 was about to tear it up when Dorian grabbed hand and
jokingly exclaimed:
'Don't! Ifyou present this card at the ofthe High
missioner, will receive fewdays later invitation to lunch
at Govemment House ... Joumalists are very desirable
tures in this country.'
Although 1did tear the useless card, Dorian's joke struck
response in mind. 1 was, of course, not interested in
cheon invitation from Government House - but why should 1
not uti1ize the opportunity of being in the Near East at
time when so few joumalists from Central Europe could travel
there? Why should 1 not resume journalistic work - andnot
with the United Telegraph but with one ofthe great And
as suddenly as 1 had always been wont to make important deci
sions, 1 now decided to break into realjoul"..cilism.
Despite year's work at the United Telegraph, 1 had
direct connection with any important newspaper, and as 1 had
never yet published anything in it was entirely
known to the dai1ypress. .. liowever, did not discourage
1 wrote an article some of impressions in Palestine and
sent copies of it to less than ten German newspapers with
proposal to write series of articles the Near East.
was in the last months ofl922 - of the mostcatas
tropblc.inflation in press was hard-put
to survive, and on1y very few newspapers could afford to
foreign correspondents in hard currency. And so it was in
the least surprising that after another of the ten newspapers
to wblch 1 had sent the sample article replied in more or less
polite terms of refusal. Only of the ten accepted sugges
tion a.nd, apparently impresSed what 1had written, appointed
file its roving special correspondent in the Near East, enclosing,
in addition, contract for book to written return.
one newspaper was the Zeitung. 1 was almost
bowled over when 1 saw that 1 had not merely succeeded in es
connection with newspaper - and what news
paper!'" but had at the first stroke acbleved status that might
envied an old journalist.
was, of course, snag in it. Owing to the inflation, the
Frankfurter Zeitung couId not in hard currency. re
muneration wblcb they apologetically offered was in tenns of

98 R.OAD
German marks; and 1 knew as weH as they did that it would
hardly suffice to for the stamps the envelopes wblch
would articles. But to special correspondent
the Frankfurter Zeitung was distinction that far outweighed
temporary handicap of not being paid for it. 1 to write
articles Palestine, hoping that sooner or later some lucky
twist of fortune would 10 travel the Near East.
1 NOW HAD friends in Palestine, both Jews and Arabs.
Zionists, it is true, looked upon with some sort of
puzzled suspicion because of the sympathy for the Arabs wblch
was so apparent in dispatches to the Frankfurter Zeitung.
Evidently they could not make up their rninds whether 1had
'bought' the Arabs (for in Zionist Palestine people had
accustomedto explain almost every happening in terms
or whether 1 was simply freakish intellectual in love
with the exotic. But not Jews living in Palestine at that time
were Zionists. Some of them had there not in
political but out of religious longing for the Land
"and its Biblical associations.
this group belonged Dutch friend Jacob de
small, plump, blond-bearded in early forties, who had
formerly tau!ht law at of the leading universities in Holland
and was now special correspondent of Amsterdam Handels
blad and London Daily Express. of deep religious
convictions - as 'orthodox' as Jew of Eastem -
did not approve the idea of Zionism, for believed that the
retum ofhis people to the Promised Land had to await the
ing the Messiah.
'We Jews,' said to than occasion, 'were
driven away from the Holy Land and scattered all over the
world because we had fallen short of the task God had conferred
upon us. We had to preach His Word, but
in our stubbom pride began to believe that He.had made us
"chosen nation" our sakes - and thus we betrayed Him.
Now nothing remains for us but to repent and to cleanse our
hearts; and when we worthy again to the hear
crs Message, will send Messlah to lead servants
back to the Promised Land .. .'
WINDS 99
'But,' 1 asked. 'does not tbis Messianic idea under1ie
Zionist movement as well?Vou know that 1do not approve of
it: but is it not natural desire ofevery people to national
of its own l'
Dr. de looked quizzically: you think that his
tory is but series of accidents? 1 don't. It was not without
purpose that God made us lose our land and dispersed us; but
Zionists do not want to admit this tC' themselves. suffer
from the same spiritual bIindness caused our downfal1.
two thousand years of Jewish exile and unhappiness 18ught
them nothing. Instead of making to unders18nd the
innermoit causes of our unhappiness. they now try to circum
vent it, as it were, building "national foundations
provided Western power politics; and in the process ofbuild
ing national they are committing the crime of depriving
people of its
Jacob de Haan's politica1 views naturally made him
popular with the Zionists (indeed, short after Heft Pales
tine, 1 was shocked to leam that had shot down
night teriorists). When 1knew him, bis social intercourse was
limited to very few Jews of his own way ofthought, some
EU!opeans, and Arabs. For the Arabs seemed to grcat
affection, and they, their part, thoughthighly ofhim andfre
quently invited to their houses. As matter at that
period \vere not yet universally prejudiced against Jews as
such. It was on1y subsequent to the Ba1four Declaration - that
is,.after centuries ofgood-neighbourly relations al1d conscious
ness of racial kinship - that the Arabs had begun to look upon
Jews as political enemies; but in the changed circum
stances of the early Twenties, they clearly differentiated
tween Zionists and Jews who were friendly toward them like Dr.
de
FATEFUL MONTHS of first sojoum among the
Arabs set in motion whole train of impressions and refiections;
some inarticulate hopes of personal nature demanded to ad
mitted to consciousness.
1 bad face to face with life-sense tliat was entirely new
10 warm, human ,breath seemed to flow out of these
100 ROAD
ple's into their thoughts and gestures, with of those
painfu1cleavages of the spirit, those phantoms of fear, greed
inhibition that made lifeso uglyand so little promise.
In the Arabs 1beganto find something 1had al\vays unwittingly
looking for emotionalligl1tness of to ques
tions of 1ife- sense of feeling, if might
it so.
In time it most important to meto grasp the spirit of
these Muslim not because their religion
(for at that time 1knew very lit.tleabout it), but because 1cecog
nized in themthat organic of mind and the senses
which we Europeans had lost. blight it not possibIe,
better understanding theIife Ofthe Arabs to di5cover the bld
den link between' Westetn suffering - the corroding lack
integration - the roots of that suffering? find out,
perhaps, what it was that had us Westerners away
that solemn freedom of lifewhichthe Arabs seemed to pos
sess, even in their social political decay, and which we a1so
must have possessed at some earlier time? - el5e how could
we haveproduced thegreat act of past, the Gothic
drals Midd1e Ages, tIie joy of the Renaissance,
Rembra:ndt'$ chiar()scuro,the' fugues of and the serene
dreams Mozart, prideofthe peacock's tail in the art
our peasaIits, and Beethoven's roaring, 10ngiIig ascent toward
the misty, hardly peaks which could say, '1
and destiny,are ...'
Being unaware oftheir true we cou1d 10nger right1y
use spiritual powers; never again would Beethoven
Rembrandtarise aqlOngus. Instead, we now knewonly that des
perate groping after 'new forriIs ofexpression' in art, sociology,
politics, and that bitter between opposing slogans and
meticulously devised, prini::iples; and machines and sky
scrapers could do nothing to restore the broken wholeness
souls ... And yet - wa5 that 105t spiritual glory of Europe's
past 105t forever? Wr.5 it to recover something
of it finding out ,wr<).ng wlth us?
And what at fi.rst than sympathy for
the po1iticalaim5 of ()utwar? of

Hfe and the percelved lt5 people, un

perceptibly changed into personal quest.
IV
VOICES
-1
RIDE, AND ZAYD SINGS. dunes
lower now and wider , and there the
W
E
sand gives way to stretches gravel and splintery
basalt, and in front , to the south, rise the
shadowy outlines of l l ranges: the mountains Jabal Sham
,
verses Zayd's song penetrate in bIurred way into
sleepiness, but precisely in the measure that the words escape
, they seem to gain wider, deeper significance quite
related to their outward meaning.
It is of those camel-rider songs so often qear in
- chants which sing to keep their aninlals to regular,
quick and not to faH asleep themselves - chants of desert
to spaces that know neither limits echoes:
always sounded in the major key at l tone level, loose
and some\vhat husky, coming blgh in the throat, tender
Iy fading in the dry air: breath the desert caught in
voice. None who has travelled through desert lands will for
get this voice. lt isalways the same where the earth is , the
air hot and wide , and hard.
~ e ride, and Zayd sings, as his fiHher must sung
him, and 1 1 the other of his tribe and other tribes
thousands of years: for thousands years were needed to
mould these intensive, monotonous melodies and to brii1g"them
to their final form. Unlike the polyphonous Western music,
which almost always tends to cxpress individual feeling, these
melodies, with their eternally repeated tone-sequence,
seem to n l tonal symbols emotional knowledge
shared people - not meant to evoke moods but to
mind of own spiritual experiences. were r n
10ng ago out of the atmosphcre of the desert, the rhythms
of the ",-ind and nomad , the l wide expanses, the
102
103
templati<m present: and just as the basic things
life always the same, these melodies are timeless
and changeless.
Such melodies are hardly thinkable in the West, where poly
is aspect not only music but feelings and
desires. Cool climate, running waters, the sequence four
sons: these elements give to life so multiform significance and
so directions that Westem must needs have
longings and, thus, strong urge to do tblngs the sake do
ing. must always create, build and overcome in order to see
himself again and again reaffirmed in the complexity of his life
forms; and this ever-changing complexity is reflected in his
as well. Out the sonorous Westem singing, with tbe
voice coming the chest and always playing in severallevels,
speaks that 'Faustian' nature which causes Westem
to desire to strive after witb will to
conquer - but perhaps also to miss and miss it painfully.
For, the world ofthe Westemer is world ofhistory: eternal
coming, happening, passing away. It laclcs the restfulness
staying time is always to viewed with suspi
cion; and does the Now carry sound eternity ...
the Arab the .desert and steppe, the other hand, bls
landscape is enticement to dreams: it is hard like the day and
knows twilight offeelings. Outer and the Inner, the 1 and
the World, to not opposite - mutually opposed
entities, but only different aspects unchanging present;
bls is not dom.inated secret Cears; and whenever does
tblngs, does them because outward necessity and not 11 desire
for inner security demands action. In result, has not progres
sed in material achievement as rapidly as the Westerner- but
has kept his soul together.
FOR HOW LONG, 1 ask myself with alm08t physical start,
will zayd, and Zayd's people, to keep their souls together
in th, face of the danger that is so insidiousJy, 80 relentlessJy
closiqg in them? We living in time in which the East
longer passive in the the advancing West.
thousand forces - politicaI,social and economic
ing at the doors the Muslim world. Willthis world succumb
104 ROAD
to the pressure the Western twentieth century and in the
cess lose not only its traditional forms but its spiritual roots
as well?
-2
THROUGHOUT YEARS 1 spent in the MiddJe East
- as sympathetic outsider from 1922 to 1926, and as Mus
lim sharing the and hopes of the Islamic community ever
since - 1 witnessed the steady European encroachment
. Muslim culturallife and political independence; and wherever
Muslim peoples try to defend themselves against this encroach
ment, European invariably labels their resistance,
with air of hurt as
Europe 10ng accustomed to simplifyin this crude way
all that is happening in the MiddJe East and to view its cutrent
history under the aspect of Westem 'spheres of interest'
While everywhere in the West (outside of Britain) public
has shown sympathy for the Irish struggle for indepen
dence (outside of Russia and Germany) for Poland's dream of
nationa! resurrection, such sympathy is everextended to simi
lar aspirations among the Muslims. West's argument is
always the political disruption and backwardness of
the Middle East, and active Western intervention is sanc
timoniously described its authors as aiming not merely at
protection of 'legitimate' Western interests but also at securing
progress for the indigenous themselves.
'Forgetting that direct, and benevolent, interven
tion from disturb nation's development,
Western ofMiddJe Eastern affairs always
ready to swallc:>w such claims. see the new railroads
builtby colonial powers, and not the destruction of country's
socia1 fabric;they count the kilowatts ofnew electricity, but not
the blows to nation's pride. same people who would never
accepted Imperial Austria's 'civi1izing m.i.ssion' as valid
excuse for interventioris in the Balkans indulgent1yaccept
simi1ar in the case of the British in Egypt, the Russians in
Centra1 Asia, the French in Morocco or the ltalians in Libya.
. And lt crosses their minds that of the social and
i1ls from wblch the Middle East is sufi'ering are direct
outcome of that Western 'interest'; and that, in addition,
VOICBS 105
WeStern intervention invariabty seeks to perpetUate and to
widen the a1ready existing inner disroptions and 50 to make it
imVOSsible for the peoples concerned to into tbeir
1 FIRST BEGAN realize tbls in Palestine. in 1922. when 1
observed the equivocal role the British administration with
regard to the confliet between the Arabs and the Zionists; and it
fully to early in 1923. when after months of
wandering over Palestine 1 to Egypt. which at that
was in almost contiaual upheaval against the British 'proteetor
were often thrown at public places frequented
British soldiers. tc answered various repressive
sures - martial law, politica1 arrests, deportations leaders,
prohibitions of newspapers. But of these measures, how
ever severe, could deaden the peoj>le's' desire for freedom.
Through the entire Egyptian nation went something like wave
passionate sobbing. Not in despair:it was rather the sobbing
of enthusiasm at having discovered the roots of its own potential
strength.
Only the rich pashas, owners of the tremendous landed
tates, were in those days conciliatory toward British ru1e.. .
innumerable others - including the miserable fel/amn, to whom
ofland appeared to bountiful possession for
family - supported the freedom movement. One OOy the itin
erant newspaper vendors would cry in the streets. 'Allleaders
the Wafd arrested order of the Oovernor' - but the
next day new leaders had taken their places. the gaps were fi1led
and again: the hunger for freedom and the hatred grew.
And Europe had only word for it:
coming toEgypt in those days had been due to wish to
extend the scope ofmy work for the Frankfurter Zeitung to other
countries besides Palestine. Dorian's circumstances did not per
mit him to finance such tour; but when saw how strongly 1
desired it. advanced smaUsum sufficient for the railway
journey from Jerusalem to Cairo and fortnight's 5tay there.
Cairo 1found lodgings in narrow in quarterinhab
ited mainly Arab artisans and small Greek shopkeeper5. The
landlady was an old Triestine, thickset, grey; she
drank fTOffi moming till evening heavy Greek wine and floun
I
106 R.OAD ..
dered from into another. was violent,passion
temperament that neverseemed to found itself; but she
was friendly toward and made well in ber
After week 50, cash approacblngits end. 1 did
not want to retum 80 soon to Palestine and the safety of
uncle'5 1 bega,n to look around for some other means of
subsistence.
Jerusalem friend. Dr. de had given letter of
introduction to business in an'd to him 1 went in
search.ofadvice. proved to large, genial Hol1anderwith
intel1ectual interests far exceeding bls activities.
From Jacob de Haan's letter leamed that 1 was correspon
dent the Zei/ung,' and when, at his 1
showedhim of recent articles. raisedhis eyebrows in
astonishment:
how old youl'
'Twenty-two.,.
tel1 sometblngelse, please: who has heIped you with
these articles- de l'
1laughed. 'Ofcourse not. 1wrotethem myself. 1always do
work myself. why do you doubt it l'
shook head, as if puzzled: it's astonisblng ...
Wheredid you get the maturity to writesuchstuff? Howdo you
manage to convey in half-sentence almost mystical signifi
to things that apparently 50commonplace7'
1 was fiattered beyond word5 the implied compliment, and
self-esteem rose accordingly. In the course of our
tion, it transpired that newfound acquaintancehad
ing in his own business, but thought might to place
in firm with wblch had dealings.
\
office to which directed layin ofthe older quar
ters Cairo, far from lodgings: dingy, narrow lane
bordered once-patrician houses now converted into offi.ces
and apartments. prospective employer, elderly,
bald-headed Egyptianwith the face of ii time-mellowed vulture,
happened to in of part-timeclerkto take chargeof his
French correspondence; and 1 was to satisfy him 1
couldfill the role in spiteof utter laekof bus'iness
We quickly struck bargain. 1 would to three
hours day; the saJary wascorrespondingly low, it would
VOICBS 107
enough to for rent and to keep indefinitely in bread,
milk and olives.
lodgings and Cairo's red-light dis
trict - tangled lanes in which the great and little
resans spent their days nights. In the aftemoon, way
10 work, the were empty silent. In the shadow
window woman's would stretch itself languorously; 81
little tables before or another ofthe houses girls were sedate
ly drinking coffee in the of grave, bearded and
conversing. with every appearance seriousness, about things
that seemed to lie far all excitement physical aban

But in the evening, when 1was returning the quarter was
wide-awake than other, humming with the tender
cords Arabian lutes and drums the laughter WOmeD.
When you walked under the shine of the electric lamps
and coloured lantems, at every stepa soft would wind itself
around neck; the might brown or white - but it al
ways jingled with gold and silver chains and bangld and always
sme11ed of musk, frankincense warm animal sklin. You had
to very determined 10keep yourse1ffree of all thesc laughing
embraces frorn the callsof hablbi dar1ing') and saada
lak Cthy happiness'). ou had to thread your way between shim
rnering that were most1y luscious fair to 100k upon
intoxicated you with their suggestive convolutions.
Egypt broke over you, Morocco, Algeiia, a1so the Sudan and
Nubia, also Arabia, Syria, Iran ... in sil
ken sat side side benches along the walls,
p1easant1y excited, laughing, out to girls or silentIy
king their nargiles. Not ofthem were 'customers': had
simp1y to spend p1easant hour or two in the exhilarating,
unconventionaI atmosphere of the quarter ... Sometimes you
had to step back before ragged dervish from the Sudan, who
sang his begging songs with entranced face and
stretched arms. Qouds of incensc from the swingingcenser of an
itinerant perfume vendor brushed your face. Off and you
heard singing in chorus, and you to understand the
ing of some of the wblrring, tender Arabic SQunds ... And
again and again you heard the soft, rippling voices of
the animal pleasure of these girls (for they undoubtedly were
108
joying themsetves) in their tight-btue, yeHow, red, green, white,
gotd-glittering garments of flimsy silk, tuHe, voile damask .:..
andtheir laughter seemed to run with tittle cat-steps the
cobbted pavement, rising, ebbing down, and then growing
again from other lips . . . .
How they could laugh, these Egyptians! How cheerful1y they
walked day in, day out over the streets Cairo, striding with
swinging steps in their long, shirtlike that \vere
striped in every colour of the rainbow -lightheartedly,
mindedly - so that might thought that the grinding
poverty and dissatisfaction and political turmoil were taken seri
ously only in relative sense. violent, explosive excitement
ofthese people always seemed to readyto make room, without
visibte transition, Corperfect serenity and indolence, as
if nothing had ever happened and nothing \vere amiss. Because
this, most Europeans regarded (and do now)
the Arabs as superficial; but even in those early days 1 realized
thatthis contempt for the Arabs had grown out of the West's
tendency to overestimate emotions that to 'deep', and
to denounce as 'superficial' that is light,
weighted. Arabs, 1felt, had remained free ofthose inner
sions and stresses so peculiar to the West: how could we, then,
apply our own standards to them? If they seemed to
ficial, it was perhaps their emotions flowed v/ithout fric
tion into their behaviour. Perhaps, under the impact of'Wester
nization', they also would gradually lose the blessed immediacy
oftheir contact.with reality: for although that Western influence
acted in ways as stimulus and fertilizing agent
temporary thought, it inevitably tended to produce in the
Arabs the same grievous problems tllat dominated the spiritual
and social scene in the West.
QpposrTE HOUSE, so close that could almost
touch it, stood little mosque with tiny minaret from which
times day the to prayer was sounded. white-turbaned
\vould appear the gallery, raise his hands, and begin to
chant: 'Allahll akbar- God is the Greatest! And 1 witness
that Muhammad is God's Messenger ... ' As he slo\,]y turned
to\vard the four points of the the ring of l1is voice
VOICBS 109
climbed ,.pward, grew into the clear air, rocking the deep,
throaty sounds of the Arabic language, 5waying, advancing and
retreating. voice wa5 dark baritone, and 5trong,
of great range; but you could perceive that it was fervour
and not art that made it so beautiful.
chant of the azzin was the theme song of days and
evenings in Cairo - just as it had the theme song in the 01d
City of Jerusalem and was destined to in later
wanderings through Muslim lands. It sounded the same
where in spite of the differences of dialect and intonation which
might evident in the people's daily speech: unity of sound
made realize in those days at Cairo how deep was the
inner unity of Muslims, and how aftificial and
were the dividing lines between them. were in their
way of thinking and judging between right and wrong, and
in their perception of what consiitutesthe good
It seemed to that for the first tim.e 1 had across
community in'whichkinship between and was not due
to accidents of racial or economic interests but to
something far deeper and far stable: of
outlook which lifted barriers of 10neliness between and

IN SUMMER OF 1923, enriched better under
standing of Middle life and 1 retumed to Jeru

good friend Jacob de 1 acquainted
with Amir Abdullah of neighbouring Transjordan. who invited
to visit country. 1 saw for the first true
beduin land. capital, - built the ruins of
delphia, the Greek colony of Ptolemaeus Philadelphus - was at
that time little to\vn of hardly more than six thousand inhabit
ants. Its streets were filled with beduins, the realbeduins ofthe
open whom rarely saw in Palestine; free warriors and
breeders. Wonderful horses galloped through the streets;
was armed. carried dagger in his sash and ritle
his back. Circassian oxcarts (for tM town had originally
.settled Circassians who had migrated there after the Russian
conquest of their homeland in the nineteenth century) plodded
110 ROAD
heavi1y through thc bazaar, which in spitc of its sma1lness was
fu11 of bustle and commotion worthy of larger city.
As there were adequate buiJdings in the town, Amir
dullah lived in those days in tent overlooking
Amman. His own tent was somewhat larger the others and
consisted of several rooms formed canvas partitions and dis
tinguished utmost simplicity. In ofthem, black bearskin
made bed the ground in corner; in the reception
of beautift.il camel-saddles with silver-inlaid pommels
served armrests when sat the
Except for Negro servant richly dressed in brocade, with
golden dagger in his belt, there was nobody in the tent when 1
entered it in the of Dr. Riza Tawfiq the amir's
chief adviser. was Turk, formerJy university professor,
and for three years, before Ataturk, Minister of
Education in the Turkish cabinet. Abdullah, told
would back in few m.inutes; just now was conferring with
beduin chieftains about the latest Najdi raid into southern
Transjordan. Najdi 'Wahhabis', Dr. Riza to
played within Islam role not unlike that of the Puritan refor
mers in the Christian world, inasmuch as they were bitterly
posed to saint worship and the mystical superstitions
that had crept into Islam over the centuries; they were also ir
reconcilable enemies ofthe Sharifian family, whose head was the
father, Husayn of the Hijaz. According to Riza
Tawfiq the religious views ofthe Wahhabis could
jected out of hand; did, in fact, closer to the spirit of
the Koran than the views prevalent among the masses in most of
the other Muslim countries, m.ight thus in time exert
influence the cultural development of Islam.
fanaticism of these however, made it somewhat
difficult for other Muslims to appreciate the Wahhabi move
ment and this drawback, suggested, might not
welcome to 'certain quarters', to whom possible reunification
of the peoples was dreadful prospect.
later the amir in - ofabout forty years, of
middle size, with short, blond beard - stepping 50ftly smal1,
black patent-leather slippers, clad in loose garments
swishing white silk with almost transparent white
over them. said:
VOJCES 111
'Ahlan wa-sahlan' - 'Family and plain' - and tbat was t6e first
time 1 beard this graceful Arabian
was something attractive: and almost captivating in the
personality of Abdullah, strong sense of humour,
wannth of expression and ready wit. It was difficult to see
wby was so popular in those days witb bis people.
Arabs were not about the role had played in the
British-inspired Sbarifian revolt against the Tu.rks and regarded
it as betrayal of Muslims Muslims, had gained certain
prestige his championship of the Arab against Zionism;
and the day was yet to when the twists and of
politics would make his odious throughout the Arab
world.
Sipping coffee from minute cups that were banded round
the black retainer, we talked - occasionally assisted Dr. Riza,
who spoke fluent French - of the administrative diffie'llties in
tbis new country of Transjordan, where everyone W2S accus
tomed to and to the laws of his clan
, - but,' said the amir, 'the Arabs plenty of common
sense; even the beduins are now beginning to realise that they
must abandon their old lawless ways ifthey want to free from
foreign domination. intertriba1 feuds of which thou must
heard 50 often are now gradually subsiding.'
And went describing tbe uneasy beduin tribes
wblcb used. to fight with one another tbe slightest pretext.
blood feuds often lasted for generation5 and
handed down from father son, for centuries, leading to
ever new bloodsbed and new bittemess after the origina1
had almost forgotten. was only way to bring
about peaceful end: if from the tribe and of
the last victim abducted virgin of thc tribe and clan of the
prit and made her bls wife, the blood of the bridal night - blood
ofthe killer's - symbolically, and avenged the blood
that had spilled in homicide. Occasionally ithappened that
two tribes had grown weary of vendetta wblch going
for generations, sapping the strength of both parties; and in
such case. 'abduction' was not infrequently arranged
througb middleman from third tribe.
'1 have done better than that,' Amir Abdu11ah told '1
established proper "blood feud commissions" composed of
112 ROAD
trustworthy who travel around the country and the
symbolic kidnappings and m.arriages between, hostile tribes.
But' .- and his eyes twink1ed - '1 always imprcsS upon the
of these commissions to very careCul in the choicc
the virgins, 1 would not like to see intemal feuds arisc
the grounds the bridegroom's possible disappointment...'
of perhaps twelve years appeared from behind parti
swept across the dusky with quick, noiseless
steps and jumped without stirrup to the out
side the tent wmch servant had holding in readiness for
him: the am;r'seldest Talal. In his slim in rapid
vau1t to the horse, in his shining 1 saw it that
dreamless contact with own life wblch set the Car
apart from that 1 had known in
Observing obvious admiration of his son, said:
1ike every other child, is growing with but
thought in mind: freedom. We Arabs do not ourselve5to
faultless free from but we want to commit our errors
ourselves and learn how to avoid them- just tree
how to grow right growing, as running water finds its
per course flowing. We do not want to guided to wisdom
who wisdom themselves - who only
power, and and and know how to lose friends
whomthey could so easily keep as friends .. .'*
1 INTEND to remain indefinitely in and it
was again Jacob de who helped Himself joumalist of
established reputation, had connections over
recommendation secured for contracts with two small
ilewspapers, in Holland and the other in for
series of articles to paid in Dutch guilders and Swiss francs.
As these were provincial newspapers of great standing, they
could not afford to large remuneration; but to whose
habits were simple, the 1 received from them appeared
ample to finance planned journey through the Near East.
* At that tirne (1923) nobody could have foreseen the bitter antagonism which
in later years would mar the relations between Amir and his 50n Talal
the 50n hating his Cather's complaisance with regard to British policies in the Arab
world, and the father resenting his son's passionate outspokenness. Nor could 1
see that or laer occasions sign of the 'mental in Talal
led bis enforced abdication from the throne Jordan in 1952.
VOICES 113
1wanted to go to Syria fir5t; but the French 50
centlyestablished there in the midst hostile population, were
to giv<:i visa to Austrian This was
bitter bIow, but there was nothing 1could do about it; and 50 1
decided to go to Haifa and there to board ship Istanbul,
which in case wa5 included in programme.
the train journey Jerusalcm to Haifa calamity
1 lost coat containing \vallet and passport. that 1
had left the silver coins in trousers pockct.
age to Istanbul \vas, the time bcil1g, of the question:
passport, money. Nothing rcmained but to i"US to
Jerusalem; the fare would to paid arrival with
as usual, from Dorian. In Jerusalem 1 would to
wait wceks for another passport the Austrian
in that time thcre was in Palestine) and
further driblets Holland and S\vitzerland.
An.dso it that the next morning 1found myself
before bus office thc outskirts of Haifa. negotiations
about the completed. was until the de
the bus, and to while away tl1e time 1 paced and
down the road, deeply disgusted with myself and with the fate
that had forced into so ignominious rctreat. Waiting is al
\vays evil thing; and the thought ofreturning to Jerusalem de
feated, with tail bet\veen legs, was most galling - the
50 as Oorian had al\\'ays sceptical about ability to
realize plam; the basis such meagre funds. 1
\vould Syria now, and God alone knew if 1 would
back to this part the world. It was, of course, al\vays
possibIe that at some later date the Zcitung \vould
financc journey to the Middle East, and that day the
French might 11ft the embargo aliens; that \vas
not certain, and in the meantime 1\vould scc Damascus ...
Why, 1 asked myself bitterly, was Damascus den icd to
But - was it course - passport, n1Oney.
was it absolutely neccassry to pass;1ort and .. ?
And, having 50 far in thoughts, 1 suddenly stoppcd
in tracks. could, if had grit el1ough, travel foot,
availing oneself tbe hospitality viIlagers; and
could, perhaps, somehow smuggle oneself across the frontier
without bothering about passports and visas ...

114
And before 1 was quite aware ofit, mind was made 1
was going to Damascus.
couple of minutes sufficed explain to bus people that
1had changed mind and was going ]erusalem after
I! took few to change into pair ofblue"overalls and
kufiyya (the best possible protection against the
sun); to stuff few necessities into knapsack, and to
range for suitcase despatched to Dorian, And
then 1 set out Iong trek to Damascus.
overwhelming sense of freedom that filled was indis
tinguishable from happ,iness..1 had only few coins in
ket; 1 was embarking iIlegal deed that might Iand in
prison; the problem crossing the frontier lay abead in vague
uncertainty; 1 was staking everything WiLS but the
consciousness having placed single stake made

1 WALKED ON ROAD to In the afternoon the
Plain Esdrelon Iay the right below f.ecked with rags of
light and shadow. 1 passed through Nazareth and night
reached shaded trees and cypress
es. At the door the first house sat three and wo
1, stopped, asked whether this was Ar-Rayna, and after
Yes was about to move - when the after

'sidio- wilt thou not refresh thyself?' - and, as if divining
thirst, stretched pitcher of cold water toward When 1
had drunk fill, the - obviously her husband
asked
'Wilt thou not eat bread with us, and remain in our house
ovemight?'
did ask who 1was, where 1wa5going what
business was. And 1 stayed ove!'night as their guest.
guest schoolchildren about it in
Europe. gue5t of means to enter for few hours,
for time, truly andfully, into the lives ofpeople who want to
brother5 a'-Id sisters. It is not mere tradition which
enabIes the to hospitable in so effu5ive way: it is their
inner freedom. are 50 di5trust of themselves that
VOICES IIS
they easily their lives to another
of thespecious security of the walls which in the West
son between himself and hisneighbour.
We supped together, and women, sitting cross-Iegged
mat around huge dish filled with porridge of coarsely
crushed wheat and milk. hosts tore small pieces large,
paper-thin ofbread with which they deftly scooped the
porridge without touching it with their fingers. they
had given spoon; but 1 refused it and attempted, not \vithout
success, and to the evident pleasure of friends, to emulate
their simple and nevertheless dainty of eating.
When we lay down to sleep - about dozen in and
the - 1 gazed at the wooden beams from
which strings of dried peppers and eggplant were hanging, at the
niches in the walls fiiled with brass and stoneware utensils,
at the bodies of sleeping and women, and asked myself
whether at 1 could felt at
In the days that followed, the ru&t-brown of the Judean hills
with their bluish-grey al1d violet shadows gradually way to
the gay and mellow hills of Galilee. Springs and little
streams unexpectedly made their Vegetation
more luxuriant. In groups stood thickly leafed olive trees
and dark cypresses; the last summer flo\vers could still
seen hill-sides.
Sometimes 1 \valked part of the way with drivers and
enjoyed for while their sirnple warmth; we drank \vater from
canteen, 5moked cigarette together; then 1 walked
alone. 1 spent "the nights in houses and ate their bread with
them. 1 tramped for daY5 through the hot depression along the
Lake of and through the 50ft coolness around Lake
Hule, which was like mirror of metal, "with si1\ery mists,
slightly reddened last rays of the evening sun that
ed over the water. Near the shore lived Arab fishennen in huts
bui1t of stra\\' mats loosely around frame\vork of
branches. -but they did not seem to need
more than the5e airy huts, few faded garments their backs,
handful of wheat to make breadand the fish they caught
selves: and always they seemed to enough to ask the wan
derer to 5tep in and eat with them.
116 ROAD
NORTHERNMOST POINT in Palestine was the Jewish
colony of Metulla, which, 1 had leamed earlier, was kind of
gap between British-administered Palestine and French Syria.
the basis of an agreement between the two governments, this
and two c010nies were shortly to incorporated
into Palestine. During those few weeks of transition MetuHa was
not effectively supervised either of the two govemments, and
thus appeared to ideal place from which to slip into Syria.
It was, 1 understood, only later, the high\\'ays, that identifica
tion would demanded of the traveller. Syrian
trol \vas said to very strict; it was irrtpossibleto go
far \'Iithout being stopped gendarmes. As Metutla \vas offici
of Syria; its adult inhabi
tants held, like elsewhere in the country, identity certificate
issued the Freneh authorities. secure such paper for
self most pressing task.
1 made some discreet enquiries and was finaHy guided to the
house of who might prepared to \vith his certifi
for consideration. was large person in his late thirties
and \Vas deseribed such in the crumpled and greasy document
which pulled of his breast pocket; but as the bore
photograph, the problem was not insoluble.
'How much do you want for it?' 1 asked.
'Three pounds.'
1 took from pocket the coins 1 possessed and counted
them: they to fifty-five piasters, that is, little over half
pound.
'This is 1 1 said, 'As 1 must keep something for the
rest ofmy journey, 1 give you more than twenty piasters'
(which was exactly onefifteenth of what had demanded).
After some minutes of haggling we settled thirty-five pias
ters, and the doeument was mine. lt consisted of printedsheet
with t\\"O columns - French and the other Arabic - the rele
vant data having inserted in ink the dotted Iines.
'personal description' did not bother for, as is usuaI
with such descriptions, it was wonderfuIly vague. But the age
mentioned was thirty-nine - \vhile 1 \vas twenty-three, and
looked t\venty. very careless poliee officer would im
mediately tlOticc the discrepancy; and 50 it necessary to
change tlle age entry. Now if it had mentioJ1ed in place
VOICES 117
only, the change would not have 50 difficult, but unfortu
11ately it wa5 given in French as well in De5pite
careful penning, 1 achieved what could only described as
unconvincing forgery; \vith eyes in his head it would
obvious that the figures had altered in both columns.
But that could helped. 1 \>Jould have to rely Iuck
and the negligence of thc gendarmes. '
EarIy in the morning business led gully
hind the village, pointed some rocks halfa mile
and said, 'There is Syria.'
1 rnade way across the guIley. Although the hour
early, it was very hot. It rnust also have 110t to the old
woman who under tree the rocks beyond \vhich ",as
Syria; for she called to in husky, brittle voice:
'Wouldst thou give drink of water to old
1 unslung freshly filled canteen and gave it She
drank avidly and 11anded it back to saying:
God bless thee, keep thee secure and lead thee
to heart's goat.'
'Thanks, mother, 1 do not want than that.'
And when J turned around looked back at 1saw the
old \vom!1n'S lips as if in and felt strange elation.
1 reached and passed them: and now 1 was in Syria.
wide, plain lay away the horizon 1
saw the outlines of trees and something that looked like houses;
it the town ot" Baniyas. 1 pid not like the look of this
that offered tree bush behind which to take
which, 50 the frontier, might well neces5ary.
there was other \vay. 1 felt as sometimes feel5 in dream
in which has to walk naked down crowded 5treet ...
It was nearly noon when 1 reached smal1 streamlet bisecting
the plain. As 1 sat down to take off shoes and socks, 1saw in
the distance four horsemen moving in direction. With their
rifles held across the saddle, they looked ominousIy like gen
darmes. They Heregendarmes. There \vould 5ense
in trying to away; and 50 1 comforted myselfthat \vhat
was to happen would If 1 caugh! 1would
probably receive than few blo\\s \\'ith and
escorted back to Metul1a.
1 waoed through the stream, sat down tlle opposite bank
118 ROAD
and started leisurely to dry feet, waiting for the gendarmes to
closer. They and stared down at with
for although 1 was wearing headress, 1 was obviously

where7' them asked sharply in
'From MetuJla.'
'And where to?'
Damascus:'
'\\ hat 7'
wel1, just pleasure trip.'
papers 7'
'Of course .. .'
And out identity certificate and
10 mouth. unfolded and looked at it
- and heart slipped back to its place and started to
beat again: 1 saw that held the document upside-down,
obviously to read ... two three-big government
seals apparently satisfied ponderously folded and
handed it back to
'Yes, it is in order. 00.'
second 1 had the impulse to shake his hand, but tben
thought it better to let relations remain strictly official. The
four wheeJed their horses around and trotted away, while 1
continued
Near Baniyas 110st way. Wbat had described
as 'road fit for whe.eled traffic' to hardly vis
ible path which meandered lalld. swampy ground
al.d across little streams. and in thf end petered out entirely
some hillocks. 1 wandered these hills for
several hours, and down, until, in the afternoon, 1
two Arabs witb donkeys that were earrying grapes and cbeese to
Baniyas. We walked the last stretch together; they gave
grapes to eat; and we separated reacbing the gardens before
the)own. clear, narrow, rapidly flowing stream was bubbling
the roadside. llay down thrust head to
the ears in the iey water and drank and drank ...
Although 1 was tired, 1 had intention of staying at
Baniyas, which, being the first town the Syrian side, was
bound to_have post. encounter \vith the gendannes
had set rest as regards crdinary Syrian troopers. for rnost
VOICES 119
of them could presumed to iIliterate and therefore not in
position to detect forgery: but post, with officer in
it, would dfferent story. 1 therefore set out at quick
through narrow lanes and byways, avoiding the main bazaar
street where such post would most likely located. In
the lanes 1heard the sound lute anda man's voice singjngto
the accompaniment of clapping. DraVv'n to it, 1 rounded the
ner - and stood quite stilI: for just at distance
perhaps ten was door inscribed Poste de with
several Syrian officer among them. sitting
stools in the sun and enjoying the music oftheiI"
comrades. It was too late to for they had already seen
and the officer - apparently also Syrian - caIIed out to
here!'
was nothing to it but to 1advanced sIowly - and
then brain-wave struck Taking out 1 politely
greeted the officer in French and continued, without waiting for
his questions:
'1 coming from MetuIIa short visit to this town, but
would not like to back without taking photo
your friend here, whose song has so enchanted
Arabs like to flattered, and in addition they deIight in being
photographed; and so the officer consented with smile and
quested to send him the photograph after it was developed
and printed (which 1 later did, with compliments). It lon
ger occurred to him to ask for identification papers. In
stead, treated to sweet tea and wished
when 1finaIIy rose to back to MetuIIa'. 1retreated the
way 1 had made circuit around the town, and proceeded
way to Damascus.
CTL TWO WEEKS 1 had Ieft Haifa 1 arrived
at the big viIlage - almost town - of Majdal ash-Shams. which
was inhabited mainIy Druzes and few Christians. 1 chose
house \vhich 100ked fairly and told the
who the door to knock that 1 \vould gratefuI for
shelter for the night. With the lIsuaI I\'a-sablan the door
was opened \vide, and within fe\v minutes 1 found myself
cepted into the smaII househoJd.
120 ROAD
As 1was now deep in Syria, with several possibIe ways leading
to Damascus, 1 decided to take Druze host into
denee and ask his advice. Knowing that Arab would ever
tray guest, 1 placed the facts squarely before includ
ing the fact that 1 was travelling false identity eertificate. 1
W:ls told that it wou1d risky for to travel the
highway because from here onward it was patro11ed French
gendarmes, would not let pass as easi1y as the Syrians
had done.
'1 1 send son with thee,' said host, pointing to
ward the young who had the door to 'and will
guide thee across the mountains and help thee to avoid the roads.'
After the evening we sat down the terraee before
the house and discussed the route we should take next moming.
knees was spread the sma1l-scale German of PaJes
tine and Syria 1had brought \vith from Jerusalem,
1 \vas trying to follo\v on.it the course indicated-
friend. While we were thus occupied, in the uniform of
officer - evidently Syrian - strolling along the vil
lage street. had appeared so suddenly from around
that 1 had hardly time enough to fold the let alone hide it
from his viev.'. officer seemed to recognize stranger in
for after passing our terrace \vith nod to host, turned
back the next slowly walked toward
'Wbo are asked in French in not unkind voiee.
1 repeated rigmarole about being colonist from
Metu11a pleasure trip; and demanded to see
identity certificate, 1had to giveit to looked the paper
attentively, and his lips twisted in grin.
'And is it that you in your hand l' continued,
pointing to the folded German 1said that it was nothing of
importance; but insisted seeing it, unfolded it with the deft
fingers of accustomed to handling maps, looked at it for
fe\v seconds, folded it carefuHyand handed it back to with
smile. Then said in broken German:
'During the war 1 served in the Turkish army side side with
the Germans.' And saluted in the military fashion, grinned
agail1 and \valked .
has understood that thou art an A/emolli. likes them,
aJld hates the bother'thee.'
121
Next morning, accompanied the young Druze, 1set out
what must the hardest of life. We walked
for eleven with break at for about
twenty minutes, rocky hills, down deep gorges, through dry
river beds, hills again, bctween boulders, sharp pebbles,
downhill, downhill. 1 felt that 1 could walk
Whco in the aftemoon we reached the town of AI
in the plains Damascus, 1 was entirely worn out,
shocs \vere torn and feet swollen. 1 wanted to stop overnight
at the place, but young friend advised strongly against it:
there were too French around, and as it was town
and not village, 1 would not so easily find shelter without at
tracting attention. alternative was to secure ride in
ofthe automobiles that plied for between and
mascus. 1 had still twenty piasters (during the entire journey
from Haifa 1 had had need to spend single and
twenty piasters to tbe fare for ide Damas
cus.
In the ramshackle office of the transport contractor, in the
main square the town, 1 was informed that 1 would have to
wait for about half until the next left. 1 parted from
friendly guide, who embraced like brother and set
immediately the first stage of his way Sitting with
knapsack side the door ofthe booking office,1dozed
off under the rays of the late afternoon sun- only to rudely
awakened someone shaking the shoulder: Syrian
gendarme. usual questions followed the usual
swer5. But the was-apparently not quite satisfied and told

\\ith to the station and talk there to the offi
in charge.'
1 was 50 tired that it 10nger ffiattered to whether 1 was
discovered not.
in the station room proved to big, burly
French sergeant, his tunic unbuttoned. behind dcsk 011 whicll
stood almost empty bottle of arrack and dirty glass. was
completely, angrily, drunk and glarcd \vith bIoodshot eyes at the
who had brought in.
'What is it now l'
explained in that had secn
122 ROAD
sitting in the main square; and 1 explained in French
that I was not stranger, but law-abiding citizen.
'Law-abiding citizen!' the it shouted. <You people
vagabonds who wa:k. ,jP down the country to
Where your p:.:pelJ'?'
As I \\'as fumbling with stiff fingers the identity certificate
in pocket, banged his fist the tabIe, and bellowed:
'Never mind, get out of - and as 1was closing the door
behind 1saw reach h.is glass and bottle.
After the 10ng,10ng what reHef, what ease to ride
almost AI-Katana the broad high
way into the orchard-covered plain Damascus! the hori
goaI: endless sea of treetops, with few shining
domes and minarets faintly visibIe against the sky. Far away,
somewhat to the rigbt, stoOO solitary naked its crest still
lighted the sun, while shado\vs were already creeping
its base. the bll1, single cloud, narrow, long, glittering
dusk; steep, distant pale sky; over the plain, dove grey
golden against the mountains to our right and to left;
Hght air.
taD fruit gardens enclosed mud waIJs; riders, carts,
carriages, soldiers (French soldiers). dusk green like
water. officerroared withhis huge goggIes
resembling deep-sea fisb. tbe first house. Damas
. surf of noise after the silence of the plain. first
lights were leaping in windows and streets. 1 felt gladness
such as 1 could not remember.
But gladness to abrupt end as the car stopped
beyond the poste de police outskirts of tbe city. .
<What is the matter?' 1 asked driver side.
nothing. AI1 cars coming outside must report to the
poliee .. .'
Syrian emerged the station and asked:
'From where you coming?'
<Only from Al-Katana,' replied driver,
well, in that go ([or this was obviously local
traffic). driver let in his clutch with grind. We moved
and 1 breathed freely But at that moment someone
called out the street, top is loose!' - and few paces
beyond the pos;e de police the driver stopped the aged to at
VOICES 123
tend to the top that had flopped down side. While
was thus engaged, policernan approached us idly
again, apparently interested in: than the driver's
rnechanical however, his glancealighted
and 1 saw, with stiffening of whole body, bls eyes 00
alert. was looking and down, closer, and
squinted at floor of the where knapsack
'Who art asked suspiciously.
1 began, 'Frorn Metulla .. " but the policeman was shaking
his head unbelievingly. whispered something to
driver; 1 could make out words. 'Englisb soldier, deserter:
And the first tirne it dawned upon that blue overalls,
kufiyya with its gold-threaded iga/ and military
type knapsack (whicb 1had bougbt in junk shop in Jerusalern)
closeIy resembIed the outfit of Irisb constabulary ernployed
in those days the government of Palestine; and 1also
bered that there was agreernent between French and
Britisb authorities extradite their respective deserters...
In broken 1 tried explain the policeman that
1 was deserter; but waved aside explanations:
'Explain aIl this the
And so 1 was obIiged go into police station, while
driver. witb muttered apology for not being wait for
started the and disappeared from view... inspector
was out being but, 1 wastold, wou1d back
mornent. 1 had wait in wblcb contained only
frorn main two other doors. Over of
them was inscribed Garditn de and over the other simply
Prison. these very unpropitious surroundings 1 waited for
over half rninute and convineed that
this was journey's end: for 'inspector' sounded
orninous tban simply 'officer'. IfI were now discovered, 1 would
have spend some tirne, perbaps weeks, in gaol as under-trial
then 1 would receive the customary sentence of
montbs; after serving it 1would to march foot -
panied mounted gendarme - back to frontier of Pales
tine; and. to top it 1 rnight expect eviction from Palestine
as weU for breaking passport regulations. gloom in the
waiting was nothing compared with gloom \vithin
Suddenly 1 heard the whirr of rnotor It stopped before
124 ROAD
the station gate. moment later io civilian dress with
red tarbush his head entered the room wlth quick step,
foJlowed the policeman who ,,,as excitedly trying to
something to inspector was quite obviously in great
hurry.
1 do not exactly how it but 1 presume that
,vhat 1 did at that crucial rnoment was the outcome of of
those flashes of genius which in ditferentcircurnstances
and perhaps in different - produce events that change his
With :single bound, 1 close to the inspector and,
\vithout waiting for his questions, hurled at torrent of
complaints in French against the insulting clumsiness of the
who had innocent citizen, for deserter
and caused to lose the city. The inspector tried
several tirnes to interrupt but 1 never gave and
engulfed him in flow of words of which, 1 suppose, was
hardly to gather - probably ooly the narnes
tulla' 'Damascus,' which 1 repeated endless nurnber of
times. was evidently distressed at being kept away from
something had to do io but 1did oot let hirnspeak and
continued, without stoppiog for breath, with wordy barrage.
Ultimately threw his hands in despair and cried:
'Stop, for God's Have papers?'
hand \vent automatically into breast pocket and, still
pouring out sentence after sentence in unceasing stream, 1
thrust the false identity certificate into his hands. poor
must have felt as if were drowning, for quickly tumed
over corner ofthe folded sheet, saw the govemment stamp, and
threw it back at
right, right, go, only go!' - and 1 did not wait for
to repeat his request.
FEW MONTHS EARLIER, in Jerusalem, 1 had met
mascene teacher had invited ,to his guest wheoever 1
to Damascus, it was after his house that 1 now en
quired. little offered himself as guide and took
hand.
Deep evening. OId City. lanes the over
hanging oriel windows made more nightly than the night itseJf
VOICES
125
could make them. and there 1could in the yellow light
of kcrosene lantern, fruiterer's shop with mound of water
melons and baskets of grapes outside it. People like shadows.
Sometimes behind the Jatticed \vindows woman's shrill voice.
And thenthe liti.le said, 1 knocked at door. Some
body answered from inside and 1 lifted the latch and entered
pavcd courtyard. In the darkness 1could discern grapefruit trees
with green fruit and stone basin with fountain. Some
called out
'Ta/fadal, sid;' - and 1 ascended narrow staircase aJong
of the outer waJJs and waJked through Joggia and
into the arms of friend.
1 \vas dead-tired, entirely exhausted, and let myself faH
to the bed that was wind rustled
in the trees of courtyard in and in the of the gar
den behind the house. From the distance muffled
sounds; the voice of great Arabian city going to sleep.
WAS of new understanding, \vith
eyes opencd to things 1hacl suspccted before, that 1
dered in those days throUg!l the a]]eys of the old bazaar
of Damascus and rccognizcd tlle spiritua! restfulness in the life
of its people. Their security could obscrved way
they to\\'ard anothcr:in dignity \vith
which they met ; the \vhich two
,....ouId \\'alk togetJler, holding othcr the hand like chil
dren - simply because they felt friendly toward other: in
the in the shopkeepers deaIt \vith anotller.
Those trader5 in the little shops. those inexora callers to pas
sersby, seemcd to have grasping 311d in them: 50
so that the of 5hop would lcavc it in the cU5tody
11is neighbour and compctitor whenever it nccessary
to \\!hile. 1often sa\\! potential customer s:op
untended stal1, obvioLlsly debating within himself
whether to wait the return the vendor or 10 to the
adjojning stalI - and invariably thc neighbouring trader, the
competitor, \vould step jn to enquire after the customer's \vants
and sell hilll the required goods - not his goods, but those
of his neighbour - and \\;ould the purchase price
126 ROAD
neighbour's Wberc in Europe could wit
nessed lfke transaction?
Some of the bazaar streets were thronged with the hardy
figures of in their wide, fiowing garments: who al
ways seemed to carry their lives with themselves, and always
walkcd in tbeir own tracks. with grave, buming eyes
standing and sitting in groups befort. the shops. did
not talk to another - word, short sentence,
attentively spoken and as attentiveJy received, sufficed for long
conversations. beduins, 1 felt, did not know chatter, that
ta1king nothing, with nothing at stake, the hall-mark of
.worn-out souls; and 1 was reminded of the words of the Koran
wblch described life in Paradise: ' ... and thou hearest chat
ter there ...' Silence seemed to beduin virtue. wrap
ped themselves in their \\"ide, brown-and-white black cloaks
and kept silent; they passed you ",ith silent child's glance,
modest and sensible. When addressed them in their
tongue, their black eyes sudden smile: for they were
not self-absorbed and liked to sensed the stranger.
were grallds seiglleurs, entirely rescrved and nevertheless to
all things of life ...
Friday - the MusJim Sabbath - you could perceive
of rhythm in the Hfe of Damascus - little whirlwind of
excitement and, at the same time, solemnity. 1 thought of
our Sundays in Europe; of the silent citystreets and closedshops;
1 remembered those empty days and the oppression which
that emptiness brought forth. Why should it so? Now 1
to understand it: because to most people in the West their
day life is load whicb only Sundays release
them, Sunday is longer day of rest but has es
into the unreal, deceptive forgetfulness behind \vhich,
doubly and threatemng, the ",eekday' lurks.
the Arabs, the other hand, Friday did not seem to
opportunity to forget their workdays. Not that the fruits of life
fell easily and without effort into the laps of these but
simply because their labours, theheaviest, did not seem to
conflict with their personal dcsires. Routine, for sake of rou
tine, \vas absent; instead, there was inner contactbetween
working-man and his work: and so respite necessary
only if got tired. Such consonance between his
VOICES 127
work must envisagedby Islam as the natural state of
affairs and, therefore, obIigatory rest had prescribed for
Friday. artisans and smaH shopkeepers in the Damascus
bazaars worked for few hours, abandoned their shops for few
hours during which they went away to the mosque for their
prayers and afterv.'ard met with some friends in cafe; then they
wouJd back to their shops work again for few hours
in g1ad rclaxation, just as pleased. OnJy few shops
were closed, and except during the time of when the
pJeassembIed the mosques, the streets were as fuH ofbustle
as other days.
Frlday 1 went with friend and host into the Umayyad
Mosque. columns supported the domed
ceiling shone under thc sun rays that fell through the lintel win
dows. \vas scent of musk in the air, red and carpets
covered the floor. In 10ng, rows stood hundreds of
behind the led the they bowed, knelt,
touched the ground with their foreheads, and rose again: in
disciplined unison, Iike soldiers. lt \vas very quiet; while the
gregation was standing, could voice of the old
the distant depths of the huge halJ, reciting verses from t11e
and when t!e bowed prosttated himself, the entire
congregation followed as bowing and prostrating
themselves before God as if were present before their eyes...
It was at this moment that 1 aware how near their God
and their faith were to these people. Theic did not seem to
divorced from their working day; it was part of it - not meant
to help them forget life, but to remember it better remem
bering God.
strange and wonderful,' 1 said to friend as we were
leaving tbe mosque, 'that you people feel God to so close to
1 wish 1 could feel so myself.'
'How else could it brother? Is not God, as Holy
Book says, 10 /hee 11tall 111e 'l'cin in 1hy neck?'
SPURRED NEW AWARENESS, 1 spent
time at Damascus reading manner of books lslam
which 1 could lay hands. Arabic, although sufficient jtJ'
the purposes of conversation, V/<lS as yet too wcak read, "
128 ROAD
thc in the original, and 50 1 had to take recourse to two
translations - and the other - which 1
ro\ved library. For the rest, r had to rely European
works friend's
fragme!ltary, these studics talks were like the
lifting of curtain. 1 began to discern \vor)d of ideas of which
hitherto 1 had entirely ignorant.
lslam did not scem to so religion in the popular
sense ofthe \vord as, oflife; so system
of theology as of personal and social behaviour
based the God. No\vhere the could
1 find to No original, in
herited sin stood between indi\idual and his destiny - for,
110117il1g all1'ihuled 10 he !limself
No asccticism was required to hidden gate to purity:
purity \vas birthright, and sin meant than
lapse from the innate, positive qualities with which God \\'as
said to have endowed human being. There was of
dualisn1 the ofman's nature: body and soul
seemed to taken as integral \vhole.
At first 1 \vas somewhat startled the Koran's not
only with spiritual but aJso\\'ith trivial,
mundane aspects of Hfe; but i!l time 1 began to understand that
if .... indeed integraJ unity of body and souJ - as IsJam
insisted he \"as - aspect of his life could too 'trivial' to
\\'ithi!l the purview of reJigion. With this, the
let its foHowers forgeL that the life of this \vorld was only
stage of man's way to higher existence, and that his uJti
mate goal was of spiritual nature. Material prosperity, it said,
is desirable but not in itself: and therefore man's
tites, though justified in them5elves, must restrained and
troHed consciousness. This consciousness ought to
late not merely to man's relation with God but also to his
tions \\'ith not only to the spiritual perfection of the indivi
dt1al but also to the creation of such social conditions as might
conducive to the spirituaJ development of so that might
ir, fullness ...
!his \vas intellectualJy and ethically far 'respectable'
than anything 1had previously heard or read about Islam. Its
proach to the problems of tlH: spirit seemed to deeper than
VOICES' 129
that of the Old Testament and had, morcover, of the lat
ter's predilection for one particular and its approach to
the problems ofthe fiesh was, unlike the Ncw Testament, strong
Iy affirmative. Spjrit and stood, in its right, the
twin aspects of God-created Hfe.
Was not perhaps this teaching, 1asked I\\yself, responsible for
the emotional security 1 had 50 10ng senS(\i in the Arabs?
..
EVI!NING HOST invited accompany to
in the house of Damascenc friend who was
brating the birth of son.
We wa1ked through the winding ofthe inner city,
were so narrow that the projccting \vindows and lattice
encased balconies almost touched al\other from opposite
sides of the street. shadows silence dozed
tween the old houses of stone; sometimes few black-veiled wo
men passed you with swift little steps. or bearded
dressed in long kaftan, appeared IIround and
slowly disappeared behind another. Always comers and
irregular angles, always the narrow l:tnes which cut across
another in directions, a1ways prol\using to lead to
toundingrevelations and a1ways opening into another, simiJar

But the revelatiot1 did in the end. friend and guide
stopped nondescript wooden door set in blank, mud
plastered wal1 and said:
we knocking with his fist against the door.
It opened with squeak, old L'ade us welcome with
toothlessly mumbled, 'Ah/an, wa-slll1lan,' and through
short corridor with two right-angle tums we entered the
yard of the that outside had resembled nothing so
as mud.-coloured
courtyard was wide and airy, pav(.d like.a huge chess
board with white and black marble slabs. 10w, octagonal
basin in the centre fountain was playing Hndsplashing. Lemon
trees and oleander bushes, set in small openings in the marble
pavement, spread their and fruit-Iaden branches
over courtyard and along the inner hOLlse \valIs, which were
covered from to roof witb alabaster r(.'liefs the most delj
130
ROAD
cate workmansbip, disp1aying intricate, geometrical pattems
and arabesques, interrupted oniy windows in
broad, 1acelikeopenwork side the.yard
walls were recessed to about Ceet ground 1evel,
deep the large accessible broad marble
steps. Along the three walled sides this niche - called Iiwan
10w, brocaded divans, while the floor costly was
spread. niche walls were lined with huge mirrors up to
height of perhaps fifteen feet - and the entire courtyard with its
trees, its black-and-white pavement,its alabaster reliefs, marble
window and -carveddoors which led to the interior
ofthe house, and the many-coloured throng of guests who sat
the divans and strolled around the water - this wasdu
plicated in the mirrors of the li,van: and when 100ked into
them, you discovered that the opposite wall ofthe courtyard was
covered with simi1armirrors in its entire width, so that the who1e
spectacle was being reOectedtwice, four times, hundred times,
and thus transformed into magic, end1ess ribbon of marble,
a]abaster, fountains, myriads of forests of lemon
groves - end1ess dreamland glis1ening under
evening sky still rosy from the rays of the setting sun ...
Such house - bare and unadomed the street side,
and de1ightfu1 wi1hin - was altogether new 10 in tirne I
to know that it was typica] of the traditional dwellings
well-to-do in Syria and Iraq but a1so in lran.
Arabs the Persians cared in earlier days Cor fa
house was lived in and it5 function \vas
limited to its interior. This was something quite different from
the forced 'functionalism' SQ much sought after in modem Wes
tern achitecture. Wes1erners, entangled in kind of inverted
romanticism, unsure oftheir own feelings, nowadays build prob
1ems; the Arabs and Persians build - or built until yesterday
houses.
host seated to his right the divan, and barefooted
servant offered coffee small brass tray. Smoke from
bling nargiles mingled with the rosewater-scented air of the liwan
and floated in wisps toward the glass-shaded cand1es which were
being lighted. after another, a10ngthe walJsand bet\veen the
darkening green of the trees.
- all - was most varied:. in ka!tans of
VOICES 131
stripcd, rustJing Damascus silk or ivory-coloured Chinese raw
silk, voluminous jubbas of pastel-shaded fine wool, gold-em
broidered white turbans. over red tarbushes; in European
clothes, but obviously completely at ease in their cross-legged
. position the divans. Some beduin chieftains from the
steppes, with their were there: eyes black and gloriously
a1ive, and small bIack beards around brown faees. Their
new clothes swished with evtry movement, and of them
carried silver-sheathed swords. were indolently and
pletely at ease: true aristocrats - that their in distinc
tion from that of European aristocrats, was not soft bred
through generations of 10ving and good living, but like
warm fire coming out of the sureness of their pereeptions.
good air surrounded them. dry and atmosphere - the
air which 1had sensed in reality the of the
desert: embracing in its chastity but not intr\!ding. \vere
like distant friends, like passing visitors in this place: their free,
aimless awaited them elsewhere.
dancing-girl out of ofthe doors and
the steps to the liwan. She was young, certain1y more
than twenty, and very beautiful. Dressed in billowing trousers of
some crackling, iridescent silk materia1, pair of golden slippers
and pearl-embroidered bodice wblch not so covered as
accentuated her high,. upstanding breasts, she moved with the
sensuous grace of to admired and desired:
and could a1most hear the of delight that ran through
this assembIy ofmen at the sight ofher soft-limbed body and her
taut ivory skin.
She danced, to the accompaniment of hand drum wielded
the middle-aged whohad theliwan
hind her, of those traditiona.l,lascivious dances 50 beloved
in the East - dances meant toevokeslumbering dcsires and to
givepromise of breath1ess .
'0 thou wonderful, thou strange,' nturmured host.
slapped knee lightly and said: 'Isshe not like
ba1m wound ... l' .
As quickly as she had the. daneer disappeared;and
nothing remained of her but the hazy shimmer in the eyes of
most of the Her place the carpet in the /{wan was taken
Cour musicians - of the best in all Syria, 1was told
132 ROAD
the guests. them held long-necked lute, another
sing1e-headcd drum -like timbrel without jingles - the
third instrume-nt that resembJed zither, and the fourth
Egyptian tombour - something like very \vide brass bottle with
bottom of drum-skin.
to twang and drum delicately, playfuUy at first,
without discemibIe seemingJy for himself,
as if tuning their instruments in preparation for
ward with the zither drew bls fingertips lightly scveral
times over the strings from high lo\v subdued, harplike
effect; the player drummed softly, stopped, and drum
med again; the with lute struck, if absent-mindedly,
few low. sharp chords in quick succession, chords that seemed
only accident to coincide with the dry, monotonousJy
peated beat timbrel and to draw tambour into he5i
tant response strumming of strings, now the lute,
nO\V of zither - and you quite aware of it,
rhythm had bound the fo\!r instruments together and
took melody? 1 could not say. l! rather seemed
to that 1 not 50 listening to musical
as witnessing exciting happening. Out ofthe chirping tones
string instrurnents there grew new rhythm, .-ising in
tense spiral and then, suddenly, falling down -like rhythmic
rising and falling metallic object, faster and slower, scfter
and stronger: in dispassionate persistence, in endless variations,
this uninterrupted happening, this acoustic
\vhic,h trembled in restrained intoxication, grew up, spread out
powerfulJ}'. \\'ent to the head: and when it suddenly broke off in
the midst crescendo (how early, much early!) 1 knew: 1
was imprisoned. tension of this music had imperceptibly
wrapped 1 badbeen drawn into these tones which in their
monotony recalIed th,: eternal recurrence of tbings
existing and knocked at the doors of your own feelings and
called forth, step step, tbat had in with
your knowledge ... laid bare something that had a1ways
been there andno\v obvious toYOti with vividness that
made heart pound ...
1 had accustomed to Western music. in which the entire
emotional background of the composer is drawn into in
dividual composition. reflectingin every of its moods the
VOICES
133
other, possible but tbls Arabian music seemed to flow
from single level of consciousness, from single tension that
was nothing but tension and could therefore personal
modes of feeling in every listener . . . .
After few seconds silence the rUn1bled again, and
the other instruments folIowed. soCter sway, more feminine
rhythm than before; the individual voices adjusted themselves
closely to other, warmly enfolded and,
as if bound together in aspell, more and more excited;
they stroked other, flowed around other in 50ft, wavy
lines wblch at firSt scvcraJ with the of the
as if with hard obstaclc, but grew in aggres
siveness, overcame the and erislaved it, dragging it
along in spiral ascent: and the unwilling at
I1rst, soon prey to the rapture and intoxi
cated, thc others; the wavy 10st its feminine soCtness and
raced with rising violence. quicker, blgher, shriller, into CQld
fiurioso conscious passion th:1t had given up restraint ilnd
now dithyrambic climb to some unseen peaks
power and sovereignty; the crstwblle circling flow
tones around other emerged tremcndous rotation in uni
son - rushing of wheels out eternity intoeternity, without
measure limit goal, breatbles5, reckless tightrope
walker's over knife-edge through etemal
ent, toward awareness that was freedom, and power, and
yond thought. suddenly, in midst of upsurging
sweep: stop and deadly silence. Brutal. Honest.
Like rustling tree leaves, breath rcturned to the listeners,
and the 10ng-drawn AlIah, went through
were like wisechildren who play their long-under
stood and ever-tempting garnes. were smiling in happi
ness ...
"':"'3
WE RIDE and zayd sings: always the same rhythm, al\vays
the same monotonous melody. For soul the Arab is
tonous - not in sense of poverty imagii1ation; has
plenty.:>C that; but bls instinct does not go, like that Western
aCter width. threedimensional space and the simultaneity
shades emotil.>!'1 music speaks i.l
134 ROAD
desire to , time, single emotional to the
utmostend of its . this monotony, this almost sen- .
sual desire see feeling intensified in continuous, ascending
line, the character owes its strength and its faults. 115
faults: for the world wants to experienced, emotionally, in
as well. And its strength: for the faith in the possibility of
endless ascent of emotional knowledge [ the
of the mind lead nowhere but to God. Only the basis
of this inborn drive, so l i to of the desert, cou1d
grow the monotheism of the early Hebrews and its triumphant
fulfilment, the faith of Muhammad. Behind bl)th stood the
motherly desert.
v
SPIRIT AND FLESH
-1

DAYS PASS, and the nights short, and we

ride southward at brisk dromedaries in
excellent - they recently been watered, and
the last two days provided them with abundant
pasture. There 5till fourteen days between and
and even if, is we spend some time in the
tOWn5 of Hail and both 0.(' which Iie our route.
An unusuaI has taken hold of urgency for
wblch 1 know eX
tl)1anation.
Hitherto 1 wont to
joy travelling at with particular urge to des
tination quick1y; the daysand weeks in journey had
of fulfilment its own, and the g'JaI always seemed to
incidentaI. But now 1 begun to feel what 1 fe1t
before in in impatience to the end of
the road. What end? see 1 to the Holy City
50 often, and know its life 50 thoroughly, that it Ionger holds
out ofnew discoveries. Or"is it perhaps new kind
of discovery that 1 am anticipating? It must so - for 1
being drawn to strange, personaI expectancy, as if
this spiritual centre ofthe MusIim world, with its
congregation ofpeople from aJl corners ofthe earth, were kind
of gateway to wider world than the in which 1
am now Iiving. Not that 1 grown tired of 1 Iove
its deserts, its towns, the ways of its people as 1 always
loved them: first hint Iife in the Sinai Desert
some ten years has disappointed,. and the
ceeding years only confirmed originaI expectation; but
since night at the two days ago, the conviction has
grown within that has givcn that it had to give.
1 am strong, young, healthy. 1 ride for at
stretch without being unduly tired. 1 traveI - and
doing 50 for years -like beduin, without tent and \vithout
135
136 ROAD
the smaH comCorts which the townspeople Najd often
regard as iitdispensabJe long desert joumeys. 1 at in
the littlc beduin life, and have adopted, a)most im
perceptibIy. the manners and Najdi But is this
there is to Have 1lived 50 10ngin only to
- was it perhaps preparation something tbat is
yet to
.,
IMPATIENCE WIOCH 1 now is somebow akin to
turbulenf' irnpatience 1 experienced when 1 returned to Eu
first joumey to the Near East: the feeling ofhaving
Corced stop shoct tremendous revelatiort that cou)d
have cevealed itself to if there had more tirne ...
initial impact crossing the Arabian worldback in
to had somewhat softened the months spent in
Turkey after 1 had left Syria in the autumnof 1923. Mustafa
Kemal's Turkey had in those days not yet entered into its 're
formist', imitative phrase; it was sti1l genuinely Turkish in its life
and traditiol1s and thus, because the unifying bond its Is
Jamic faith, \\'as still related to the general tenor Arabian life:
but Turkey's inner rl1ythm somehow heavier, less
less airy - and more Occidental. When 1 travelled over
land Istanbul to Sofia and Belgrade there was abrupt
transition from East to West; the irnages ehanged gradual1y,
element receding and another imperceptibIy taking its place
miharets growing fewer and farther the 10ng kof
1011$ the giving way to belted peasani bIouses, the
tered trees and groves Anatolia meiging into fir
forests - until suddenly, at Italian frontier, 1 found myse]f
back in Europe.
As 1sat,in the train Wi!s taking from Trieste to Vienna,
recent impressions ofIfurkey began to lose their vividness
and reality that remained was eighteen months 1had
spent in Arab countries. It almost gave shock to
that 1 \\'as 100king upon so familiar European scenery
tJ1e eyes stranger. The seemed so ugly, their
movements angular and clumsy, \vith direct relationship
felt and \vanted: nnd at 1 kne\v that in
spite of tl1e otlt\vard appearance of purpose in they did. they
137
SPIRIT AND fLESH
were living, without being' aware it, in world make
believe ... Obviously, with Arabs had utterly,
irretrievabIy changed to what 1 considered essen
tial in and it was with something Iike astonishment that 1
remembered that other Europeans had experienced life
before how was it possibIe, that they had not
enced this samc shock of discovery? - had they? Had
another of as shaken his depths as 1
was now ... ?
(It was yeacs in that 1received answer this
question: it Dr. Van der Meulen, then Dutch Minis
at Jidda. ofwide and many-sided culture, clung
his Christian faitl1 with fervour nowadays Wester
ners and \vas thus, understandabIy, friend of Islam as
religion. None the less, confcssed to loved Arabia
other had not excepting his
own. When bls service in the Hijaz was approaching its end,
said '1 believe sensitive person remain
immune the of life, it out his
heart after living the Acabs time.When goes
away, \\'ilI within oneself the of
this descrt land, and always look back to it with 10ngii1g
if one's is in richer, beautiful regions . , .')
1 few weeks in Vienna and celebrated
ciliation with father, now hadgot bls anger at
university studies and the
in wllich 1had his roof. After 1was now corres
pondent of the Fl'ankfurter Zeilllng - people in
used to with awe in those days
and had thus justified boastful claim that 1would out

Fcom Vienna 1proceeded straight to Fcankfurt to present
self in pcrson the newspaper \,,11ich 1 had writing
welI 1did this with great dea! self-assuranee, fOT
the letters Frankfurt r,ad mad.: it evident that work was
appreciated; and it \vas \vith feelil1g having definitely
that 1 entered the sombre, old-fashioned edifice
Fral1k/urter Zeilung and sent card editor-in-chief,
the internationally famous Dr. Heincich Simon.
\Vhen I in. he looked for moment in speechless
138 ROAD
astonishment, atmost forgetting to get from his chair; but
soon regained his composure, rose and shook hands with
<Sit down, 8ft down. 1 have e.xpecting But
tinued to stare at in sitenee until 1 began to feel uncomfort
able.
<Is there anything wrong, Dr. Simon l'
<No, notblng is wrong - rather, everything is wrong ...'
And then laughed and went '1 somehow had expected to
meet of middte age with gold-rimrned spectacles - and
now 1 find ... 1 beg your pardon; how old you,
anyway1'
1 suddenlyrecalled the jovial Dutch merchant in Cairo who
had asked tlJ.e same question the year before; and 1 burst out
laughing:
<1 over twenty-three, sir - twenty-four.' And then 1
added: <Do you find it too young for the Frankfurter Zeitung ?'
<No.. .' replied Simon slowly, for the Frankfurter Zei
tllng, but for your articles. 1 somehow took it for granted that
only much older would able to overcome bls natural
desire for self-assertion and leave his own personality, as you
have doing,entirely in the background ofhis writings.
as know, is the secret of mature to write objec
tively about what you see and hear and think without retating
those experienees directly to own, persona/ experiences ...
the other hand, now that 1 think of it, only young
could written with so much enthusiasm, so - how
shal11say - so much thriJl .. .' sighed: '1 do that
it doesn't wear off and don't as smug and jaded as
the rest of them ...'
dlscovery of youth seemed to strength
ened Dr. Simon's conviction tl1at had found in highly
promising correspondent; and fully agreed that 1 should re
tum to the Middle East as soon as possible - the sooner the bet
ter. Financially, there was 10nger obstacle to sucha plan,
for the German inflation had at last overcome and the sta
bilization ofcurrency had brought almost immediately wave of
prosperity in its wake. Frankfurfer Zeiful1g was again
in posi!ion to finance the joumeys ofits special correspondents.
Before 1 could go out again, however, 1 \vas expccted to producc
the book for which the newspaper had originally contracted
139 SPIRIT AND FLESH
and it was decided that during this I should attached
the editorial in order to acquire thorough knowledge
the workings of great ..spaper.
Despite impatience to go abroad again, those months in
Frankfurt were tremendousJy stimulating. Frankfurter Zei
tung was not just large ; it \\'as almost research
stitute. It empJoyed about forty-fi\'e full-fledged editors, not
counting the sub-editors and assistants in the ne\vsrooms.
editorial work \Vas highJyspecialized. ,,"ith ofthe
world and every major poJitical or ecomonic subject entrusted to
an outstanding expert in his fieJd: and this in of
o]d tradition that the articles and dispatthes of the Frankfurter
Zeitullg should not merely reflections of passing
events but, rather, kind of documentary e\'idenee \vbleh politi
cians and historians might draw upon. lt know
ledge that in the Foreign Officein editorials and politi
analyses of the Frallkfurter Zeitullg \\'ere filed with the same
reverence that was aecorded the notes "erbales of foreign govern
ments. fact, Bismarek is quoted to said of the then
cblef ofthe newspaper's Berlin bureau, Stein is the Ambas
sador of the Frankfurter to the Court of Berlin.')
member of such organization \vas very gratifying indeed to
age; the so as hesitant views about the
Middle East were with serious attention the editors and
often the subject of the dai1y editorial conferences; and
triumph the day 1 asked to write
editorial current Middle Eastem probJem.
WORK Frankfurrer Zeitung gave strong
petus to cQnScious thinking. With greater clarity than
before, 1 began to relate Eastem experiences to the Westem
worJd of wblch 1 was part. Just as some months
earlier 1 had discovered eonnection bet\\'een the emotional se
curity ofthe Arabs and the faith they professed, it now to
. dawn upe;} that Europe's lack of inner integration and the
ehaotic state ()f its etblcs might outcome of its ]oss of
tact with the religious faith that had shaped Westem civilization.
Here, 1 saw, was society in seareh of spmtual orienta
tion after it had abandoned but apparent1y very few West
140 ROAD
erners realized what it was about. The majority seemed to
think, consciously subconsciously, Iess aJong these
'Since reason, scientific experirnents cal
culations do not reveaJ anything definite about the origin
man and its destinies after bodily death, ought to
trate energies the development material and
tellectual potential and not allow ourselves to hampered
transcendental ethics and based assump
tior's which defy scientific proof.' while Westem society
did\ not expressly deny God, it simply longer hact
Hirh in its intel1ectual system.
In years, after 1 had with the
ligion ofmy ancestors, 1had given some thoughtto Christianity.
10 the Christian concept of God was infinitely superior
to that of the 01d Testament in that it did not restrict God's
to group ofpeople but postulated His Fatherhood
of all mankind. was, however, element the Christian
religious view that detracted from the universality of its
proach: the distinction it made between the soul and the body,
the world of faith and the world of practical atfairs.
Owing to its early divorce from all tendencies aiming at
firmation of life and of worldIy endeavours, Christianity, 1 felt,
had 100gceased to provide impetus to Western civiliza
Its adherents had grown accustomed to the idea that it was
the business of religion to 'interfere' practicallife; they
were to regard religious faith as soothing convention,
to foster than vague sense of personal
- especially - in individual and In
this they were assisted the age-old attitude which,
in pursuance ofthe principle ofa division between 'that which is
God's and that which is Caesar's', had left the entire field of
social and economic activities almost - with the re
sult that Christian politics and business had developed in direc
tion entirely different from that Christ had envisaged. In not
providing its followers with concrete guidance in worldly .
atfairs, the religion which the Westem world professed had
in what, to to the true mission of
Christ and, indeed,the cardinal task of religion: to sho\v
not merely how to jee/ but also how to rightly. With
instinctive feeling of having let do\vn his reli
141 SPIRIT AND FLBSH
gioo, Western man had, over tbe centuries, 105t rea1 faith
inChristianity;with the10ss of faith, had 105t theconvie
tion tbat the universe was expression Mind
and thus formed organic whole; and bad lost
that convictiorl, was nowliving in spiritualandmoralvacuum.
In the West's grp.dual falling away from Christianity 1. saw
revolt agait1st the Paulinelife-contempt that had 50early,and 50
completely, obscured teacblngs of Chri5t. How, couJd
Western society sti1l claim to Christian society? And how
couldit without concrete faith, to overcome its
moral chaos?
world in upheava1 and convulsion: that was our Western
world. Blood5hed, destruction, violence unprecedented
scale; the breakdown of 50 socia1 conventions, clasb of
ideologies, an all-round fight for new ways of life:
these were the signs our time. Out of smokeand thesham
bles of worldwar, innumerable 5maller war5 and host
volutions and out of disasters
that transcended anything unti1 recorded: out of tbese
tremendous happenings emerged the trutb that the present-day
Western concentration material, technical progress couJd
never itselfresolve tl1e existing chaos into something resem
bling instinctive, youthful conviction that does
not Iive bread crysta11ized into the intellectual convic
tion tbat the current adoration of"'progress' was morethao
weak, shadowy sub5titute for earlier faith inabsolutevalues
pseudo-faith devjsed who had 10st inner strength
believe in absolute values and were itOW deluding themselves
with belicf somehow, mere evolutionary impulse,
would outgrow his present difficulties .. 1did not seehow
of the new economic systems that stemmed from this iIIu
sory faith could possibIy constitute more than for
Western society's misery: couJd, at best, cure of its
symptoms, but never cause.
1 WORKED ON editorial 5taft of thc Fronk!urle,
Ze;tung, 1 paid frequent vi5its Berlin, where lnost of
friends resided; and it was of those trips 1 mct the
woman y,'ho was latcI' wife.
142 ROAD
the moment 1was introduced Elsa amidst the bustle
of the Romanisches Cafe. J was strongly attracted;not.on1y .
the delicate of - her fine-boned
with its and the sensitive mouth that
bespoke humour and kindness - but the inward,
intuiti..'e quality of herapproach and things.
She was painter. work, which 1 later to kno\v,
not outstanding, but it the same imprint of
serene intensity that expressed itself in her words ges
tures. Although she was some fifteen years 01der than 1 - that is,
in her late thirties - her smooth and s!ender, flexible body
gave much younger She was probabIy the
finest representative of the 'Nordic' type 1 ever
countered, having its cleamess and sharpness of out1ine \vith
of the angu1arity and stoIidity that so often goes \vith it.
She descended [rom of those old Holstein fami1ies which
might described as the North equivalent of the
English 'yeornanry'; but the unconventiona! freedorn of her
manner had caused the earthiness to give way to quite
un-Nordic warmth and flair. She was widow and had six
year-01d to whom she wa5 greatly devoted.
attraction mutual from the very
for after that fir5t meeting we saw other very often. Filled
1 was with recent of the Arab world, 1
communicated them to and she, unlike most of
other friends, di5played extraordinary under5tanding and
sympa:thy for the strong but inchoate feelings and ideas
wblch the5e impressions had produced in 50 50 that
when 1 wrote kind of introduction to the book in which J wa5
de5cribing Near Eastern trave1s, 1 as if 1 were addressing
myse1f to her:
Whell in country has
nel'er seen he continues 10 Ivithin!lis own, tllOugllper
haps \videned, environment and easily gl'asp the
difJerence bellveen the lhings tl,al habiI has made /amiliar 10
him and tlle newness that comes his For, whetller \ve
Germal1s Eng!isllmen, and througlJ France.
ltaly HUllgary, tl,e spirit Europe unifies us all. Living as
do H'itbll1 orblt associatiol1s, to IIl1der
AND FLESH 143
stand anotherand make through those
associations ifthrougll We t1lis ..
lts is
advantage; but like a/l adl'antagest!1Ot hablt, tllis
is disadl'ontage sometimes Ivefind tliat
we Ivrapped in t}lat spitit ifin Ivool;
fu/led it into laziness heart; tlmt it llGs made
/orget tJ,e tiglltrope-Ivalk times- that
reaching a/ter intangibIe realities. 1/1 those earlier they
hal'e called 'inlaJlgible possibilitie:> "
WIIO went in Ii'hetller discol'erers r ad
venturersor - allvays seeking tlle
most springs tlleir own lives. We /ate-comers seeking
thedesire secure own
/ife it unjolds i/se/f And dimly suspect tlle sin tl101 lies
/Iidden in such Europeans begin io/eel il
t/le lerrible danger avoiding dangers.
tlzis book 1 describing into region 1i,llOse 'dif
. is toogreot easily bridged: dif- .
is, in way, akin danger.We /eal'ing lhe security
uniform in lvhich there is litt/e tllat is
and ilothing is surprising, and entering into the
mendous stra"genesses wor/d.
deceive i" other wor/d
tltis lhe tJlal
lve - as might in tlle case
Weslern - grasp picture. is
Ih(lll that lhe people o[tllat 'other' Ivor/d.
10 communicate IVitll them? 11 is not enough tospeak tlleir
language; in order comprehend lheir o/life would have
cnter into lheir ellvironmenl and begin li.'e Ivithin lheir
associqtions. [<; this possible?
And it desirable? 11 mighl a[ter bad bargain
10 exchange l?ld, lzablts thought [orslrange,
ones. .
excluded Iv()r/d? 1 dOllOI tl1ink so.
[eeling exclusion rests mainly peculiar 10
Weslern thitik;ng:'II'e zmdereslimale 111e
[ive value and allvays lempled do
10it, 10 appropriate il, take il over, mvn terms, inl00ur
144
own ;ntellectual ellv;ronment. It to Irowever, that 01U
disqu;et longer permits CQl1alier attempts;
us are beginning to realize that cuJtural distance andshould.
overcome otherthan intellectual it m;ght per
hapshe overcome surrenderingour to it.
world is 30 entirely di.fferent /rom all
that have known at home; it much that is
strange in and sound. it brushes sometimes,
if permityourse/fto attentive.,vith momentary
brance things long and /orgotten: those intangibIe
realities )'our own life. A-nd when this breath remembrance
rlf!!.chts youfrom beyohdtheabyssthalseparates world/rom
that other. that un/amilior tlSk yourselj,vhether it is ,,01
perhaps herein - andonlyherein - that the all ,vander
;ng Iles: 10 aware the tl,e world around
and thereby to reawaken J'our personal. /orgotlen
reality
.
. And Elsa intuitively understood what 1 tried 50 in
adequately, Iike who gropes in darkness. to convey in these
stammering words, 1 5trongly felt that she. and a1one. could
understand what 1 after and could in search ...
-2
DAY wandering isover. Tbere is with
m and the night is silent around wind glides softly
over the dunes and ripples the sand on their slopes. In the
row circle of the firelight 1 see zayd's figure busy his
pots and our sadd1ebags Iying where we tossed
them when we made for the- night.and saddles with
blgh wooden pommels. little beyond. a1ready melting
into the darkness. the crouchin8 bodies two
after the their necks stretched sand; and
still farther beyond. faintly visible under starUght. but
as to you as your own heartbeat. the empty desert.
are more beautifullandscapes in the world. but
1 think, that shaj)e man's spirit in so sovereign way.
In its hardness and 5parseness, the. desert strips our desire to
comprehend aIl subterfuges, of allthe manifold
with wblch bountiful nature entrap 's m.ind and
145
AND
cause him to project his imageries into the world around
him. desert is bare and cIean and knows compromise. It
sweeps out of the of man aU 10veIy fantasies that couId
used as masquerade for wisJtful thinking. and thus makes
him to surrender himseIfto Absolute that has image:
fanhest of all that is and yet tl1e ncarest of that is
Ever since began think, thc desert has the cradle
of al1 his beliefs in God. in softer environments
and favourablc climes had, time again,
inkling of His existence and oneness, instance, in the
cient Greek concept of Moiro, the indefinabIe behind and
the 01ympian gods: but such concepts were never
than the outcome of vague feeling, <livining rather than
tain knowledge - until the knowledge broke fonh with dazzling
to the desert and of the desert. 11 was
from buming tilOrnbush m tbe descrt of Midian that the voice
of God rang out to Moses; it \vas in wilderness of Judean
desert that Jesus received. the message the of God;
and it \vas m of in descrt hills ncar that
first ca1l Muhammad of
It to him inthat narrow, dry gorge between rocky
that naked bumt the desert sun - all-embracing Yes
both of the spirit and of the fiesb: tbe was des
tined to give and purpose to formless nation of tribes and,
through it, 10 spread wiLhin few decades. like and
promise, westward as as the Atlantic and eastward to
theGreat WaII of China: destined to remain great spiritual
power to this day, thirteen centuries later, outliving
poIitical decay, outlasting even the great civilization wbich
it brougbt into being: tbe CaII that to tbe Prophet of
...
1 SLEEP AND J AWAKE. Ithinkofthedaystbathavepassed
and yet are dead; and sleep and dream; and
agam and sit up, dream and remembrance flo\ving gent1y 10
gctber in tbe half-lighl of awakening.
nigbt is near 10 moming. has died down entirely.
Rolled in his blanket sleeps Zayd: our dromedaries motion
kss, Iike lwo mounds of stars are still visibIe, and you
146 ROAD
migbt think there is time to sleep: but lQw the eastern sky
there appears,palely out the faint streak of
above another, darker strea.k.. t}es,over the horizon:
twm hera1ds dawn, time the.moI: prayer.
Obliquely over 1see the morning star, which the Arabs
Az-Zuhra, Shining If ask them about it, they will
. ten that Shining was woman ...
were oncetwo angels, and Marut, who forgot to
as it behoves angels to 00, and boasted their
vincibIe purity: 'We made oflight; we sin and
desire, unlike the weak sons sons mother's dark
womb.' But they forgot that their purity had not from their
strength, for they were pure Qnly because knew de
sire and had never to resist it. Their arrogance
displeased the Lord, and said to them: '00 do\vn to earth
and stand your test there.' proud angels went down to earth
and wandered, clothed in bodies, among the sons
And the very first night they woman whose
beauty was so great that people called her Shining
Wben the two angels looked at her with the eyes and feel
ings they now had, they confused and, just as if had
the desire to possess her arose in them.
ofthem said her: willing unto but Shining
answered: i5 to whom 1 pelong; if v'ant
must free And they 51ew the with the
unjustly spilt blood stiJl their hands, they satisfied their burn
ing lust with the woman. But as the desire left them, the
two erstwhile angels aware that their first night
earth they had twofold - in murder and fornication - and
that there had in their pride ... And the Lord
said: 'Choose between punishment in this world and punishment
in the their bitter remorse, the fallen angels chose
in tbls world: and the Lord ordained that they
5uspended between heaven and earth and remain thus
suspendedunti1 the Day Judgment as warning to angels and
that virtue destroY5 itself if it loses humility. But as
see ange15, Ood changed Shining into
star in the heavens 50 that people might al\vaY5 her and, re
membering her story remember the fate Harut and Marut.
outline of this Jegend is older than Islam; it seems
SPIRIT AND ' 147
to have originated in of myihs which ancient
Semites around their goddess Ishtar. the Grecian Aphro
dite of later days. both of whom werc identified with the planet
we now Venus. But in the form in which 1heard it, story
of Harut and Marut is typical creation of the Muslim mind.
illustration ofthe idea that abstract purity, freedom from sin,
moral meaning so 10ng as it is mere
absence of urges and desires: for is not the recurrent necessity
of choosing between right and wrong the premise of moral
ity?
Poor Harut and Marut did not know this. Bccause as angels
had never exposed temptation, they had considered
themselves pure and moraHy far - not realizing that
denial of the 'legitimacy' of bodily urges \vould indirectly
imply denial of mora! value in endeavours: for it is
onIy the of urges, temptations and conflicts - the
sibility of cllOice - which makes and into
moral being: being endowed \vith soul.
It is the basis of this conception that Islam,
higher reIigions. regards the soul of as aspect of his
'personality' and not as independent its own
right. Consequently, the Muslim, man's spiritual growth is
inextricably bound up \vith the other aspects of his nature.
Physical urges an integral part of this nature: not the result
of 'original sin' - concept foreign to the ethics of Islam
but positive, God-given forces. to aod sensibly
as such: the problem for is not how to suppress the
demands of his body but, rather, how to co-ordinate them with
the demands of his spirit in such \vay that life might
fuH and righteous.
root ofthis a1most monistic life-assertion is to found in
the Islamic view that man's original nature is essentiaHy good.
Contrary. to the Christian idea that is sinful. or the
teaehing of Hinduism that is originaHy 10w and impure and
must painfully stagger through chain of incarnations to
ward the ultimate goal ofperfection. the Koran says: Verily, We
creale in pelfecl slale - state of purity that des
troyed subsequent \vrong behaviour - ond Ihereupon We
reduce 10 Ihe /oJ\'esl 0/101\', Jvit/l the exceplion tJ,ose J\'JIO
I,OJ'e in God and do good Jvorks.
148 ROAD
-3
PALM ORCHARDS lie before us.
We halt the side oId, ruined watchto\ver to
ourselves entry into the town; for old
always concemed with personal demands the
traveller that enter town in his best fresh and clean as
if had just mounted his dromedary. And 50 we utilize
main:ng water for \vashing hands and faces, negIec
tOO bcards and \Vrntest tunics the 5addlcbags. We
brush the \veeks of desert dust from and from the
tas5el5 of saddIebags, and dress camels in
their best finery; and now to prcsent oUT5elves in

Thi5 tO\\'Il i5 than, say, Baghdad Medina;
it does not contain elements countries and
peopIes; it is and unadulterated like bowl freshly
dra\\'o milk. No foreign dress is visible in the bazaar, Jnly loose
ku.fiyyas and igo/s. strccts cleaner
than tho$e in other city the Middle East - cleaner, cvcn,
than other town in Najd, \vhich is. noted for its un-Eastcrn
cIeanIiness(probably because people this Iand, having al
ways have retained grcater of self.respcct
than elsewhere in the East). houscs, built horizontallay
ers of packed in good repair - \"'ith the exception of
demolished city ....aHs which \vitness la5t
Ibn Saud and House Ibn Rashid and of Ibn Saud's
quest of the to\vn in 1921,
The hammers of coppersmiths pound into shape
of vessels, the saws of carpenters bite shriekingly..into
wood, shoernakers the soles sandals. Camels Ioaded \vith
and skins of butter make their \vay through the crO'\'ds;
other cameIs. brought in beduins sale, fill air \"ith
their Gaudy 5addlebags from AI-Hasa being fin
gered experienced hands. auctioneers. ever-recurring
fixture in tO\Vn. rnove arid do\vn the and.
with loud cries, offer their goods sale. and there
sec hunting falcons jumping and down their wooden
perches, tethered leather thongs. Honey-coloured sa/uqi
hounds their graceful limbs lazily in the sun.
uins in \''Orn aba.\os. well-dressed servants and bodyguards
AND FLESH 1-19
the - almost of them southern province:>
mingle with traders Bagl1dad, Basra and Kuwayt and
natives Hail. These natives - that is, the of
men see hardly than the bIack which conceals
head and - belong 10 of most handsome races
in the world. the grace and
wblch the nation has ever seems to embodied
in this tribe Shanunar, of which the prc-Islamic poets sang:
'In the highlands live the of steel and the proud, chaste
women.'
Wben we arrive the castle, we intend
spendthe next two days, we find host holding court in
outside the castle gates. Amir Ibn usaad bclongs to
Jiluwi branch of the House of Ibn SaueJ and is brother-in-law
of the of the most powerful of governol"s,
is called the North' because holds s\vay not only
the Jabal Shammar but \vholeof northern
Najd to confines of Syria and Iraq - an area almost
large <tS France. .
(who is old. friend mil}-e). and few beduin
SllOykhs sitting the 10ng, narrow brick
bui1t along the castle wall. In long row at their feet
crouch Ibn ,ajojil, the men-at-arms with rifles
silver-sheathed scimitars who neverleave throughout the
day, not 50 for protection as for prestige; next to
falconers \vith their birds perched gloved fists, lo\ver
vants, beduins, throng retainers, great and sma11, down
5tabIe - feeling equa1 one another as in
spite of the differences in their stations. And how could it
otherwi5e in this land where you never address as
lord,' except God in prayer? Facing in large semicircle
squat the beduins and townspeople wpo are bringing
their complaints and quarrels before for settlement.
We make camels down outside circle, hand them
over to the of <:ouple of retainers who have rushed over
us and proceed toward om;r. rises; and who have been
sitting his side the beJ;1Ch and the ground before
rise with him. stretches his hand toward us:
\\'o-soblan - and God grant life!'
1kiss the tip of his nose ltis and
150 ROAD
kisses both cheeks and to the his side.
Zayd finds place among the rajaji/.
Ibn Musaad introduces to his other guests; some of the
faces are new to and some familiar from previous years.
Among these is Ghadhban ibn Rimal, supreme s/lOyk/r of the
Sinjara Shammar - that delightful old warrior whom 1 always
Nobody \vould guess from his almost tattered
that is of the mightiest chieftains of the North,
and has so loaded his YOUi1g wife with gold and je\vels that,
cording to popular bclief, two slave to support her
when she wants to Icave her tent rests sixteen
poles. eyes twinkle embraces and whispers into
ear:
'No new wife yet 7' - to which 1 only reply with srnile
and shrug.
Amir Ibn Musaad must overheard this quip,
laughs aloud and says:
'It is coffee and wives that tired traveller needs' -
calls 'QaJIII'a!'
repeats the servant nearest the omir; and the at
the farthest end of the row takes the Qahlva!' - and so
unti1 the ceremonious command rcaches the castle gate
re-echoes from within. In time servant appears bearing the
traditional brass coffeepot in his left hand and several
cups in his right hand, pours out the first for the amir, the second
for and then serves the other gucsts in the order of their rank.
is refilled or twice, and when guest indicates
has had enough, it is filled again and passed to the next

is apparently curious to know the results of jour
to the frontier of Iraq, but betrays his interest only in
brief questions asto wbat befell the way, rcserving
enquiry until we are alone. resumes the judicial hearing
wblch has interrupted.
Such informal court of justice would inconceivable in
the West. amir, as ruler and judge, is of course assured of
respect - but there is trace of SUbSCH in respect
which the beduins sho\v him. the and defen
dants proudly rests in the eonsciousness of 111$ humanity;
their gestures are not hesitant, their Ioud and as
SPIR.IT AND PLESR 151
sertive and everyone speaks to the amir as to elder brother.
calling - as is beduin custom with the himself -
his first and not his title. There is of haughti
ness in lbn Musaad's bearing. handsome face with its short,
black beard, his rniddle-sized, somewhat stocky figure speak of
that unstudied self-restraint and dignity which in 50
often goes hand-in-hand with great power. is grave and curt.
With authoritative \vords immediately decides the 5impler
cases and refers the complicated which require
learned jurisprudence, to the qadi of the district.
. It is not easy to the supreme authority in great. beduin
region. intimate knowledge of the various tribes, family
lationsblps, leading personalities, tribal grazing areas, past his
tory and present idiosyncrasies is needed to hit upon tOO correct
solution the excited complexity beduin plaint. Taet of
heart is as important here as sharpness intellect, and both
must work together with needle-point in order to avoid
rnistake: for the same way as beduins never forget favour
done to they never forget judicial decision whieh they
consider unjust. the other hand, just deci5ion i5 al
waY5 accepted with good grace even those against whom it
has gone. lbn up to these requirements
better than pther Saud's is 50 rounded,
50 quiet and without inner contradictions that his instinct
most always shows him right whenever his
reaches dead (5 swimmer in Hfe; lets himself
waters and masters them adapting bimself to
them.
Two ragged beduins are now presenting their quarrel before
himwith excited words and gestures. Beduins are, as dif
ficult to deal with; there is always something unpredictabIe
sensitive excitability which kno\vs comp'romise -
ways heavenand close to other. But now 1 see how
Musaad parts their seetblng passions and smoothes them
\'/ith his quiet words. might think would order the to
silent while the other pleads claim5to hisright:
but - lets tbem talk both at tlle same time, outshout
other, only occasionally steps \vith little word and
question tllcre - immediately submerged in their passion
h,c in. and retreats. only 10cut in
152 "OAD
again a'little later witb appropria.te remark. It is entranc
spectacle, thi5 adaptation the judge's mind
ity so conflictingly intcrpreted two angry not 50
scarch for truth io juridical sense as slow unveiling of hid
den, objective amir this goal fits and
starts, dra\\'s out truth, as if athin string. slowly and
ratiently, almost imperceptibly both plaintiff and defendant
until suddenly stop, look at other in puz:zlement, and
realize: judgment has delivered - judgment so obviously
just it rcquires explanation .. , Whereupon
of the two stands hesitantly, straightens his and tugs
his ers1while thc sleeve in almost friendly
- and botl1 retreat, still somewhat bcwildcred and
the time relieved, mumbling the blessing of over
the amir.
scene is wonderful, real piece of prototype, it
seems 10 oCthat fruitCul colJaboration bctweenjurisprudence
justice io Westem and is in its
infancy - stands here in aII i18 perfection in the dusty market
square before tbecastle of an amir . . .
Ibn Musaad, reclining indolent1y the mud wall, takes
up next His face, strong, furrowed,look:ing out ofdeep
set \varm and pierce, is the face of real leader
. masterly reprcseotative ofthe greatest quality ofhis
sense of
Some of others present obviously feel ,!-siriill.ar admiratiol1.
sitting the ground before - ni iS beduin
tribe of Harb and of the men-at-arms - his
neck toward with smile his face: .
'Is like that sultan whom says,
1 met 1i--hen Ilis gleaming }\'QS sheotlled,
1 it streamed1vit/r
Alld /ound him mankind:
best a/I in ""OS still his mind . . . !
does not strike as incongruous unlettered bed
uin '1uote verses of great \vbo lived in the tenth
century - certainly not asincOngruous as it would to
hear tJavarian peasant quote Goetlle or English stevedore
AND FLESH 153
William Blake or Shelley. despite more general spread
of education in the West, the high1ights of Westem culture are
not shared the average European American - while.
the other hand, wide segments of uneducated and some
times ilIitcrate Muslims do share consciously, daily. in the
cultural achievements oftheir past. Just as this beduinhere has
to to mind verse from Mutannabi
iIlustrate situation ofwhich was witness, ragged
Persian without schoo1ing - \vater carrier, in bazaar,
soldier in olltlying frol1tier post - carries in his in
verses of Hafiz Jami Firdawsi and
""ith evident enjoyment into his conversation.
though 10st that creativeness wblch made their
cultural hcritage so f;reat. these Muslim people now
direct, living with its summits.
J REMEMBER DAY whenImade this discovery in
the bazaar of Damascus. 1 was holding in hands vessel,
large bo\\'1 of baked clay. It had solemn shape: big
and round, like somewhat flattencd sphere of almost musical
out of tlle of its wal1, which had in it the
of cheek. two handles bcnt outward in
pcrfect curves wou1d done Greek
11ad kneaded hand; 1 could still discern finger
prints of potter in the clay. Around vessel's inward
turned rim had etched with swift, strokes of his stylus
deJicatc arabesque like the hint of rose garden in
had quickly, neg1igently when created
this splcl1did simpHcity which bought to mind the glories of
SaJjuk aJ\d Persian pottery 50 admires in museums
Europe: for had not intended to create \vork art. that
\\'<15 making was cooking-pot - nothing but cooking-pot,
such as aJellah beduin day in bazaar
coins , , ,
1 knc\\' Greeks had created similar greater perfec
tion, probably in cooking-pots well: for they, too - water car
rier and market porter, soldier potter - had truly shared in
culture did not rest merely the creative excitement of
se1cct /ndividuals, fe\v peaks which of genius .
154 R.OAD
could reaqh, was to Their pride in things beau
tiful, the things wmch were part of that culture, was of their
day-by-day doings as well: contif1Uous partaking in joint,
living possession.
As 1 held that vessel in knew: blessed people
who cook in such pots their daily meals; bJessed they whosf'
claim to cultural heritage is than empty boast ...
-4
'WILT THOU NOT grant the pleasure of dining with
now, Muhammad Amir Ibn Musaad's voice breaks through
reverie. 1 look up - and Damascus recedes into the past,
where it belongs, and 1 sitting again the the
side ofthe 'Amir ofthe North'. Thejudicial session is apparently
over; the litigants depart. Ibn Musaad rises, and his
guests and rise with throng of the rojajil
parts to make way for us. As we pass under the gateway they
close their ranks and follow us into the castle yard.
little the omir, Ghadhban ibn Rimal and myself sit
down together consisting of huge platter of rice with
whole roasted sheep it. Besides us there are only two of the
s attendants and pair of golden so/uqi hounds in the room.
Old Ghadhban lays his hand shoulder and says: 'Thou
hast not yet answered qUl;stion - new wife yet
1 laugh at his persistence: '1 wife at Medina, as thou
knowest. Why should 1 take another?'
'Why? God protect wife - and thou
young Why, when 1 was thy age .. .'
'1 told,' interjects Amir Ibn Musaad, 'that thou dost not
do so badly even now, Shaykh Ghadhban.'
'1 old wreck, Amir, God lengthen thy but
sometimes 1 need young body to warm old nes ....
tell turning again to 'what that . utayri
girl thou didst marry two years ago? What did5t thou with
her?'
'Why - and that's just the 1 reply.
'Nothing ... l' repeats old his eyes wide 'Was
she so ugly?'
'No, thc contrary, n'::H1tiful .. .'
'\\'h:H is it :l1l abOl!t?' as\.:c; Jbn \1usaad. '\Vhat girl
AND FLESH
}55
two talkil1g about? Enlighten
And so 1 enlighten marriage that
led to nothing.
1 \vas then living Medina, wife}ess and 10nely. beduin
the tribe of Mutayr, Fahad \\'as his used
hours every day in entertaining \vith fantastic
of his exploits under during the Great Oneday
said to 'It is good for to 1i\'c as thou 40st,
for blood will in thy veins: thou sl1Ou1dst And
when 1 joking1y asked him 10 produce bride,
replied: easy. daughter brother-in-la\v, Mu
triq, is of marriageable and 1, as mother's
tell thee that she is excecdingly beautiful.' Still in joking
mood, 1 asked to find out whether father would
willing. And 10, next day utriq himse1f to visibly
barrassed. fe\v cups of cotfee and some hemming and
hawing, finally told Ihat Fahad had spoken to qf
al1eged desire to his daughter. '1 would to
thee for son-in-law, but Ruqayya is still cblld - she is
only eleven years old ...'
Fabad was furious when of Mutriq's visil. ras
lying rascal! girl is fifteen years old. does not
like the idea of marrying 10 the other
hand, knows how close thou art to Ibn Saud and does not
want to otfend outright refusal; and so he pretends
Ihat sbe is chi1d. But 1 tel1 thee: breasts like
this' - and described with his hands bosom of al1uring
- 'just like pomegranates ready to plucked.'
01d Ghadhban's eyes shimmer at this description: 'Fifteen
years old, beautifuJ, and virgin ... and thcl1, says, nothing!
What cou1dst thou want that?'
'Wel1, wait until 1 tell the rest of the story ... r must admit
tnat 1was becQming and interested, and perhaps
little spurred Mutriq's 1pre5ented \vith
ten golden sovereigns and did his best persuade girI's
parcnls 10 give to in marriage; simil:lr gift \\'ent
mother, Fahad's sister. What exact1y happened in thcir house 1
do 1101 know; r kno\v is that two
lLtriq to consent to tlle ...
'Ibls f-ahad,' says Ibn 'SCt'I11:; 11<lVC sly fel
156 ROAD
low. and his sister obviously expecting greatel'
bounty from thee. And what happened then?'
1 go telIing thcm 110W thc marriage was duly solemnized
few days later in the absence th! bride who, according
\vas represented father as her legal guardian and
bearer Iler consent - the lattcr being testified to two wit
nesses. sumptuous \vedding feast followed, with the usual gifts
to the bride (\vhom 1 had never yet her parents, and
several other close relatives - among naturally, Fahad
figured most prominently. The same evening bride \Vas
brought to house her mother some other yeiled
males, while the roofs the neighbouring houses women
sang \\'edding song5 to the accompaniment hand drums.
the appointed hour 1 entered the room in which bride
and her mother were a\vaiting 1 was unable to distinguish
the from the other, for both were in black:
but when 1 uttered the words demanded custom,
est nov,' retire,' of the t\yO veiled ladies rose and silently left
the and thus 1 kne\v that the who had remained wa5
wife.
'And then, \vl1at happened then1' prompts Ibn Rimal
as 1pause at this stage and the amirlooks at
quizzically.
.. ". There she sat, the poor girl, obviously most
fied at having thus delivered to unk.nown And
when 1asked her, as gcntly as 1knew how, to unveil her she
onJy drew ber tighter about herself.'
'They always do that!' exclaims Ibn Rimal. 'They al\vays
terrified at the beginni,ng the bridal night; and, it is
becoming young girl to modest. But after\vard they
usual1y glad - \vasn't thine?'
'Well, not quite. 1 bad to remove her face-veil mysclf, and
when 1 had done so 1 beheld girl great beauty with oval,
wheat-coloured large eyes and long tresse5 which hung
down to the cusblons \\'hich she '.\'35 sitting; but it was indeed
the of cblld - she could not have more than eleven
years old. just as her fathcr had claimcd ... Fahad's and his sis
ter's greed had made tbem represent to as being
riageablc age, while poor utriq had innocent lie.'
'50 what?' asks Ibn Rimal, obviously not understanding \vbat
157 ND
1 driving at. 'What is wrong with eleven girl grows
41oesn't she? And she grows quickly in husband's
bed .. .'
But Amir lbn Musaad says, 'No, Shaykh is not
Najdi like t11ec. brains in his head.' And, grinning
O1t continues: 'Don't listen to Ghadhban, Muhammad,
is Najdi, and of l1ave our brains 110t
indicating his l1ead - - and points to quite another
portion of his own
We laugl1, and into his beard: 1
certainly brains than tl10u hast, Amir.'
At their urging, 1go \vith tlle story and tcll them that, wh01t
ever old Ghadllban's views the extremc youth of
child-bride did not represcnt extra bonus to 1 could
feel pity girl \vho had made victim of
uncle's stratagem. 1 trcated as \vould treat
chiId, assuring that slle 11ad nothing to fear from but she
did not speak ivord and trembIing betrayed Rum
maging through sheJr, 1 found piece ofchocolate, which 1
fercd but she, having chocolatc in life,
fused it with vioIent shake head. 1tried put at case
teIling amusing story Nig/lfS, but she
did not seem to grasp it, let alone find it Finally she
uttered first \\'ords: head is aching ... ' 1 got hold of
aspirin tablcts and thrust them into hand 'W'iLh glass
\\'ater. But this caused only still violent outbrcak
(only later did 1 that of women fricnd5 had
told her that those strangc foreign Iands
drug their \\'ives their bIidal night il1 order rape the
easily). After couplc of hour5 or 50, 1 succceded in
vincing that 1 had aggressive designs. In the end she feii
asleep Iike the child she was, while 1 made bed for myself
the carpet in corner of the
In the mornillg 1 sellt mother demanded that she
take the girI \vas stupcficd. She h01d never
heard Qfa who refused so choice morsel- an eleven-year
oId virgin - and must thought that there was somethillg
radically wrong \vith
'And then l' asks
'Noihing - 1divorced the girl, 11aving left in the samc state
158 ROAD
as she had It was bad deal for the family, who
kept both the girl and the dower which 1had paid, together with
the As myself, \vent that
there \vas manhood in and several ":ell-wishers tried to
persuade that perhaps wife, had cast
spell which 1 could only free myself counter
spell.'
'When 1 thiJlk of thy subsequent marriage in Medina,
hammad, and thy son,' says the \vith laugh. '1 sure
thou \vrought strong , ..'
-5
LATER NIGHT, as 1 about to go bed in the
put at disposal, 1 find Zayd silent than usual. stands
near the doorway, visibly lost in some distant thoughts, his chin
resting his breast and his eyes fixed the and
gree:} medal!ion of the carpet that covers the floor.
does it feel, Zayd, to back in the to\vn of thy youth
after these years? - for in the has al\\'ays refused to
enter \\'henever 1 had occasion . visit it.
'1 not sure, he slo\vly. 'Eleven
.. , It is eleven years since 1was ilojt, kllO\Vest tl1at
heart \vould not let ier and behold the People
ofthe South ruling in the palace Rashid. oflate 1have
telJillg myself, in the of ti}e Book, God, Lo,.d
SO\el'e(r.:llty! gil'cst sOI'e,.eigllty pleasest
G\t'OY 50\'e,.eigllty ('xallcs/
pleasest abasest 11110111 [11 JlGlld
is tJ1e good, 1105/ 0/1 ,'/li//gs, No doubt.
God gave sovereignty to the House of Ibn R:l'llid, but they did
not know to usc it rightly. They \'iCre 'f to tileir
ple but hard their kin and reckless !:) .heir pride; they
spilled blood, brothcr killing brother; and "-( God took
their rule and handed it back : ,]link 1 should not
grieve longer - for is it not ,he Book,
tJlillg, olld ;/ /Ile l' - (/1/(1 sUl1u:/imes
hate tblllg, al1d it tl1e best /0/' .1'
is s",'eet resignation in Zayd's voice, resignation im
plying than tllc acceptance of somcthing that has al
happened and cannot therefore undone. It is this
AND FLESH 159
quiescence of the Muslim spirit to the immutability ofthe past
the recognition that whatever has happened had t/) in
this particular way and could happened in other - that
is so often rnistaken Westcrners for 'fatalism' inherent in
the Islamic outlook. But Mus1im's acquieseence to fate relates
to the past and not to the future: it is refusal to act, to
and to but refusal to consider past reality as anything
of God.
'And beyond that,' continues Zayd, 'Ibn Saud has not
11aved badly to\vard the Shammai. know it, for did they
not support with their swords three years ago when that dog
Ad-Da\vish against
did indeed, with the magnanimity of the vanquished so
characteristic of true Arabs at their best. that fateful
1929, when Ibn Saud's kingdom shook to its foundations
under the blows of the great beduin revolt led Faysal ad
Dawish, the Shammar tribes living in Najd aside their
animosity toward t11e King, ral1ied around and
contributed largely to his subsequent victory the Iebe1s.
This reconciliation \vas tru1y remarkable, for it had only
few years earlier that Saud had conquered foree of
arms and thus re-established the hegcmony of the South
the North; and in view of the age-old
tual dislikc - goes than dynastic struggle for
- thc tribc of Shammar and the of south
Najd, of Saud is large tl1is
pathy the rccol1ciliation has entirely er..l
dicated) is expression 01' th.; traditional riva1ry bct\veen Nort11
and South that goes through thc cntire history of the Arabs and
has its counterpart in othcr nations as well: for it
happens that small dil1'erence in the inner rhythm of lifc
duces bet\\'een c1osc1y re1ated tribes racial
strangeness cou1d cause bet\\'een entircly lleighbouring
nations.
from poJitica1 rivalry, another factor plays consider
role in emotional divergencics bct\\'cen the
North and Scuth. lt in south of Najd, in the vicinity of
Riyadh. that nearly t\\'O hundred ago the puritan reformer,
Muhammad ibn Abd al-Wahhab, rose and stirrcd the tribes
then Muslims in - to religious enthusiasDl. It
160 ROAD
was in the then insignificant House of Saud, chieftains of the
smaH township of Dar'iyya, that the reformer gained the iron
which the force of action to his inspiring word, and
within few decades, gathered large of the Peninsula
within that glowing, movement of faith known
as 'Wahhabism'. the Wahhabi \vars and conquests of the
hundred and fifty years, it \vas always the people ofthe
South aloft the banners of puritanism, while the
North only halfheartedly along with them: for although
the Shammar share the Wahhabi tenets in theory, their
remained remote from the fiery, unyielding religious
suasion ofthe South. Living closc the 'bordcrlands', Syria and
Iraq, and always connected with them trade, the Shammar
in the course of ages acquired suave laxity of outlook and
readiness for compromise quite to the isolated
Southerners. of the SOUtll know only and for
the last century and hulf they known notl1ing dreams
of ji/lad - proud, haughty WllO regard themselve5 the
only true respresentatives of lslam and other Musl.im peoples
as heretics.
With all this, the Wahhabis certainly not
would presuppose the of certain doc
trines which would distinguis!l its followcrs from the great mass
of all the foHowers of the same faith. In Wahhabism, how
there doctrines - the contrary:this
movement made attempt to do with the
tions and superimposed doctrines \vhich in the course of
centuries have gro\vn up around the original tcachings Islam,
and to return to the pristine mC5sage of the Prophet. In its
compromising clarity, this was certainly great attempt, which
in time could led to complete freeing of Islam the
superstitions that have obscured its message. Indeed, the re
naissance movements in modern Islam - the AM-i-Hadil/l move
in Inc'ia, the Sanusi movement in North the \vork
of Jamal adDin and the Egyptian Muhammad
duh - directly traced back to spiritual impetus set in
motion in the eighteenth century N uhammad ibn Abd al
Wahhab. But the Najdi development of his teachings suffers
from t"rVo defects which prevented it foree
of spiritual destiny. One these defects i$ thc narrowness \vith
SPIRIT AND FLESH 161
which it seeks to almost religious endeavours to
literal observation of injunctions, overlooking the need for"pene
trating to their spiritual content. other defect is rooteo: in
the Arab itself - in that zealotic, self-righteous orien
tation of feeling which concedes to the right to ditrer:
attitude as peculiar the true Semite as its
- complete laxity in matters of faith. It is tragic quality of tbe
Arabs that they mustalways swing between two poles and never
find middle way. upon - hardly two centuries
ago - the Arabs of Najd \vere innerly distant
than other group in the Muslim world; while ever since the
advent of Muhammad Abd al-Wahhab they have rega:ded
themselves merely as champions of the Faith but almof<t as
its sole owners.
spiritual meaning of Wahhabism - the striving after
inner renewal of Muslim society - was corrupted almost at the
same moment when its goal- the attainment of social and
political po\ver - was realized with the establishment of the
Saudi at the end of the eighteenth century and its
pansion over the larger of Arabia early in the nineteenth.
As as the Collowers Muhammad ibn Abd al-Wahbab
achieved power, bls idea mummy: for the spirit
servant of power - and power does not \vant servant
of the spirit.
blstory of Wahbab Najd is the history religiotls idea
which first rose the wings of enthusiasm longing and then
sank down into the lowlands of pharisaic self-righteousness. For
all destroys itself as soon as it ceases to longing and
bumility: Harut! Marut!
VI
DREAMS
-1

FRIEND AND GUEST of great Arabian amir

means to regarded and treated as friend and guest
his officials, his rajajil, the shopkeepers
in his capital, and the beduins tlle steppc
under his authority. guest scarcely wish
without its being fulfiHed whenever it ful
filled; from hour to hour is overwhelmed the warm,
questioning graciousness which envelops hirn in the market
place the town less than in the wide halls and corridors
the castle.
As so often before, this happens to during the two days 1
stop at When 1 wish to drink coffee, the melodious sound
the brass rnortar immediately rings out in private
tion room. When, in the morning, 1 casuaHy mention to Zayd
within the hearing of the amir's beautiful
camel-saddle 1 just seen in the bazaar, it is brought to in
the aftemoon and placed at feet. Several times day gift
long of nlango-pattemed Kashmir wool, or
embroidered kufiyya, or white Baghdad sheepskin for the sad
dle, or curved :Najdi dagger with silver handle .. , And 1,
travelling lightly, unable to offer Ibn Musaad anything
in return large-scale English Arabia which, to
his great delight, 1 painstakingly marked With Arabic place
names.
Ibn Musaad's generosity strong resemblance to the
ways of King Ibn Saud: which, after is not so surprising
when considers their close relationship. Not ihey
cousins but thcy also shared - ever since Ibn Saud was
young and Ibn usaad still - rnost the difficulties,
vicissitudes and drearns of the early reign. And beyond
that, their personal ties were cemented years ago Ibn Saud's
162
DREAMS 163
marriage to Jawhara, the sister ofIbn Musaad - the woman who
to the than marriedbefore after

MANY PEOPLE admitted to his
friendship, not privileged observe the most
intimate, aAd perhaps the most significant, aspect of Ibn Saud's
nature: his'great capacity for which, had it allowed to
unfold and endure, might led to far greater heights
than has achieved. So stress has laid the
mense number of women has married and divorced that
outsiders to regard him as something of 1ibertiQe
engrossed in endless pursuit ofphysical pleasure; and few, if
aware that almast every of Saud's marriages -
those dictated political considerations - was
the of dim, insatiable desire to the ghost of
lost love.
Jawhara, mother of his sons Muhammad and Khalid, was
Ibn Saud's great love; and now, aJter she has dead
some thirteen years, the King speaks of her without cateh
in his throat.
She must extraordinary woman - not
beautiful (for Ibn Saud known and possessed beautiful
women in his extremely exuberant rnarital eareer) also
dowed 'with that instinctive feminine wisdom which joins the
rapture of the spirit to the rapture of the body. Ibn Saud does not
often allow bls emotions to deeply involved in his rela
tions with w(\men, and this perhaps the with
wblch marries and divorces his wives. But with Jawhara
seems found fu1filment that repeated.
Although in lifetime had other wives, his reallove was
reserved to her as exclusively as if she had his only wife.
used to write 10vepoems to and in ofhis
p4nsive moments, told 'Whenever the '\lorld was dark
around and 1 could not see way out of the dangers and
difficulties that beset 1 would sit down and ode
to Jawhara; and when it was fini8hed, the world was suddenly
lighted, and 1 knew what 1 had to do.'
But Jawhara died during the gre;.t influenza epidemic of 1919,
which also claimed Ibn Saud's first-boro and most beloved 800,
164
ROAD
Turki; and this double loss left never-healed scar Hfe.
It was only to wife and son that could give heart
so ful1y: loved father few theirs. father
Abd ar-Rahman - whom 1 knew in early years in Riyadh,
was, though kind and pious certainly not outstanding
personality like aod had played particularly spec
tacular role during his 10ng Hfe. Nevertheless, after Ibn
Saud had acquired kingdom his owo effort and was undis
puted ruler of the laod, behaved toward bls father with such
hurnility that would never consent set foot in room
ofthe castleif Abd ar-Rahman was in the room below - 'for,'
would say, 'how 1 al10w myself to walk over father's
head l' \"ould never sit down in old presence with
out being expressly invited do so. 1still remember discom
fiture this kingly humility caused day at Riyadh (1 tblnk
it was in December, 1927). 1 was paying of customary
visits to the father in apartments in the royal castle;
we were sitting the ground cushions, the old gentleman
patiating of his favourite religious themes. Suddenly
attendant entered the room and announced, SJzuyukh is
corning.' In the next moment Ibn Saud stood in doorway.
Naturally, 1 \\'anted to rise, old Abd ar-Rahman gripped
wrist and pulled down, as if say, art
guest.' 1 was embarrassed beyond worQs at thus having to
main seated the King, after greeting his father from afar,
was left standing il1 the doorway, obviously awaiting permission
to enter the room, but have accustomed to similar
his father's part, for winked at with half
smile to put at ease. Meanwhile, old Abd ar-Rahman went
with his discourse, as if interruption had occurred. After
few minutes looked nodded to his son and said: 'Step
closer, and sit down.' Tht" was at that time
forty-seven or forty-eight years old.
Some months later - we were at at the time - news \vas
brought to the King that father had.died Riyadh. 1 shall
pever forget uncomprehending stare with which 11e looked
for several seconds at the messenger, and the despair slow
Rndvisibly engulfed features that were normal1y so serene
and .P'mposed; and how jumped with terrible roar,
father is dead!' and, \vith great strides, ran out the room, his
165
trailing the ground behind him;and how bounded
up the stairway, past the awe-struck faces of
not knowing himself where was going or why, shouting,
shouting, father is de.ad! father is dead!' For two days
afterward refused to see took neither food nor drink
and spent day and night in
How sons of middie age, how kings who had won
themselves kingdom through their own strength, would
thus mowned the of father who had died the peaceful
death of old age?
-2
W AS his own efforts that Abd al-Aziz
ibn Saud won his vast kingdom. When was child, his dynasty
had already 10st last remnants of its power in Central
and had superseded its vassals, the dynasty
of Ibn Rashid of HaI1. Tbose were bitter days for Abd al-Aziz.
proud and reserved bad to watch foreign gover
mng his paternal city of Riyadb in the of Ibn Rasbid: for
now the fami1y of Ibn Saud - the rulers of almost all
- were only pensioners of Ibn Rashid, tolerated and 100
ger feared him. In the end, this too for
peace-loving father. Abd ar-Rahman, aod left Riyadh with
entire family, hoping spehd his remaining days in tbe
house of his old friend, the ruler of Kuwayt. But did not know
what the future held in store; for did know what was in
his s heart.
Among the members of the family there was who
had inkling ofwhat was happening in this passiooate heart:
younger sister of his father. 1 do not know about her; 1
knowthat \\'henever dwelJs the days of youth. the
alwaY$ mentions her with great reverence.
'She loved 1 think, even more than her own children.
When we were alone. she would take her and tell
of the great things which 1 was to do when 1 grew up: "Thou
rnust revive the gIory of the House of Ibn Saud," she would
again and again, and her \vords \verelike caress. "But 1want
thee know, A.zayyiz,". she would say, "that thc glory
pf the House Saud must 110t end of thy endea\ours.
Mec:tioDato diminutive of al-AZiz.
166 ROAD
must strive for the glory ofIslam. people sorely need
leader who will guide them to the path of the Holy Prophet
and thou shalt that leader." words have always
mained alive in
Have they,
his Hfe Ibn Saud has loved to speak of Islam as
mission that had entrusted to and evenin later days,
wher. it had 10ng since obvious that kingly power
weighed more with hiln than his erstwhile championship of
ideal, his great eloquenc.e has often succeeded in convincing
people - perhaps even himself - that tOO ideal was stiJl his
goal.
Such childhood reminiscences were often brought in tbe
course of the intimate gatherings at Riyadh which usually took
after the isha prayer (about two hours after sunset). As
soon as the in the castle mosque was over, we would
semble around the King in ofthe smaller rooms and listen to
reading the Propbet's Traditions from
commentary the Afterward the would invite
two three of us to to inner in his
private quarters. evening. 1 remember, while leaving the
sembly in the wake of the 1 was again struck the
majestic height witb which towered far above those who sur
rounded him. must have caught admiring glance, for
smiJed briefly with that indescribabIe charm of his, took
thc: hand and asked:
dost thou 100k at like this, Mwhammad?'
'1 was tblnking, Long-of-Age, that nobody could to
recognize the king in thee when sees thy head 50 above the
heads of the crowd.'
Ibn Saud laugbed and, stillleading the hand his slow
through the corridor, said: 'Yes, it is pleasant to
50 tall. But there was time when tallness gave nothing
heartach-e. \vas years ago, when 1 was and was
living in the. castle of Shaykh Mubarak at Kuwayt. 1 was thin
and extremely tall, than years would warrant,
and other boys in the castle - those of the s/laykh's family
and even of - made target of their jokes, as if 1
'",ere freak. This caused great distress, Rnd sometimes 1
self thought that 1 was truly freak. 1 wa5. so ashamed of
DREAMS 167
height that 1 would in head and shoulders to make
self smaller when 1 walked through the rooms of the palace
over the streets Kuwayt.'
then we hid reached the His eldest
Prince Saud, was waiting there for his father.
was about own age and. though not as as his father, quite
imposing in His far rugged than
the and had of the latter's mobiIity and vivacity.
But \vas kind and well thought of the people.
The sat ,Jown the cushions that spread along the
walls and us to follo\'I suit. commanded:
'Qallll'a!' The slave at the door immcdiately cal1ed out
to the corridor, - whereupon this traditional \\'as
taken and in rapid succession other attendants
dcwn the length of the after the other:
'Qalm'a!' - 'Qalllva!' - in de!ightful of repetition,
til it :reached the coffee-kitchen few away: and in
golden-daggered attendant with the
coffeepot in hand and tiny cups in the other. The King
ceived the first and the other were handed roundto the
guest5 in order in which they seated. 5uch informal
occasions, Ibn Saud would talk frecly anything that occurred
to - about what was happening in distant parts world,
about strange new inventiol1 that had brought to his
notice, about people and customs and institutions; but
liked to talk about his own and would encourage
others to participate in the conversation. that particular
evening, Arnir Saud started the rolling \'Ihen laughingly
tumed to
'Someone expres5ed doubt to today about
hammad. said that was not at sure whether thou art
English spy in the guise ofa Mus1im... But don't 1
was to assure that thou art indeed Muslim.'
UnabIe to hold back grin, 1replied: 'That \vas very kind
thee, Amir, God lengthen thy life. But couldst thou
50 certain about this? Js it not that God k:nows \vhat is
in man's heart '1'
'That is true,' retorted Amir Saud, 'but in this 1have
gi\'en special in5ight. dream last \veck has givcn this
sight ... I myself before fr;asqtlc looking U!"
168 ROAD
at the minaret. Sudden1y the of the
minaret, cupped his hands before his and started the
to God is the Greatest, God alone is Greal, and continued
it to the eJ.j, is God God: - and when 1 100ked
closely, 1sawthat the was thou. When 1awoke 1knew with
certainty, although I had doubted it, that thou art truly
Muslim: dream in which God's was extoHed could
not deception.'
I was strongly moved this unsolicited assertion of sin
cerity tbe son and the earnest nod with which the
King affirmed, as it were, Saud's surprising
Taking up the thread, Ibn Saud remarked:
'It does often that God enlightens hearts through
dreams which sometimes foretell the future and sometimes make
clear the present. Hast tbou thyse(f experienced such
dream, Mubammad?'
'Indeed 1 Imam; 100g ago, 10ng before 1
thought of becoming uslim - before 1 had set foot in
Muslirn country. 1 must nineteen years old so at
the and lived in father's house in Vienna. I was deeply
interested in science of man's inner life' (which was the
closest definition of psychoanalysis 1could give the 'and
was in the of keepiog bedside and pencil in
order jot down dreams at the moment of awakening.
doing I found, 1 was to tbose dreams in
dennitely, ifI did not keep them constantly in mind. In that
particulardream, 1found myself in Berlin, travelling in that
derground railway - with the train going some
times through lunnel belo\v ground and sometimes
bridges high the streets. Thc compartment was filledwith
.great throng of people - so tbat there was to sit
down and stood tight1y packed without being to
and there was only light single electric bulb. After
while the train out of the tunnel; it did not to
ofthose high bridges, but instead to wide, deso1ate
plain ofclay, and the whecIsof the got stuck in the clay and
the train stopped, unabIe to foreward backward.
the traveUers, and 1 among them, 1eft the carriages and
started 100king about. around us was endless and
empty and barren - there bush it, n"t even
OPPOSITE: Ahd AI-Aziz Salld
DREAMS 169
stone - and great perp1exity the peop1e's hearts:
Now that we stranded how shall we find our way
back to where other humans grey twilight lay the
irnmense plain, as at the time of dawn.
'But somehow1did not quiteshare the perplexity oftheothers.
1 made way out of the throng and beheld, at distance of
perhaps ten paces, dromedary crouched the ground. It was
fully saddled - in exactly the way 1 later saw camels 5addtoo in
thy Iinam - and in the saddle sat dre5sed in
white-and-brown-striped with short sleeves. His kufiyya
was drawn his face 50 that 1 could not discem his features.
In heart 1 knew at that dromedary was waiting for
and that the motionles5 rider was to guide; and
without ,vord, 1 swung myself to the camel's back bebind
the saddle in the way radif, pillion rider, rides in lands.
In the next instant, the dromedary rose and started fonvard in
10ng-drawn, easy gait, and 1 felt nameless happiness rise witbin
In that fast, smooth gait we travelled for what at first
seemed to hours, and then days, and then months, until Ilost
count oftime; and with step ofthe dromedary
piness rose higher, until 1felt as if 1 were swimming through air.
In the end, the horizon to our right began to under the
rays of the sun that was about to rise. But the far
ahead of us 1 saw another light: it from bebind huge,
ga1ewayresting two pillars - light, not
red 1ikethe light of the rising sun to our right - coo1light that
steadily grew in brightness as we approached and made the
piness within grow beyond anything that words cou1d des
cribe. as we nearer and nearer to the gateway and its .
light, 1 heard voice from :somewhere announce, is the
westernmost city!" ..:. and 1 awoke.'
'Glory unto God !' exc1aimedIbn Saud, when 1 had
'And did not this dream thee that thou wert destined for Is

1 shook head: 'No, Long-of-Age, how cou1d 1
known it'1 1 had never thought of Islam and had neVtl"
known Muslim ... It seven later, long after 1 had
forgotten that dream, that 1 Islam. 1 recalled it
recently when 1 found it papers, exaet1y 1 bad jot
tOO it down that night upon awaking.'
Crown Prince Saud
170 ROAb
'But it was truly thy fortune which God showed thee in that
dream, Dost thou not recognize it clearly?
ing of the crowd of peopIe, and thou with them, into pathless
waste, and their perplexity: is that the condition those
whom the opening sura of the describes as "those who
have gone astray"? And the tli which, with its rider, was
waiting for thee: was not this the "right guidance" ofwhich the
Koran speaks so often? And the rider who did not speak to thee
and whose face thou couldst not see: who else . have
. but the Holy Prophet, whom God's blessing and
loved to wear cloak with short sleeves ... and do
not of books tel1 us whenever appears in dreams to
non-Muslims to those who not yet MusIims, his face is al
ways covered? And that white, coollight ttie horizon ahead:
\vhat else could it have but promise of the light of faith
which1ightswithout burning? didst not it in thy
dream because, as thou hast told us, it was years later that
thou camest to know Islam for the truth itself ... '
mayest right, Long-of-Age ... But what about
that "westernmost city" to which the gateway the horizon was
to lead - for, after of Islam did not lead
to the West: it led rather, away from the West.'
Ibn Saud was silent and thoughtful for moment;
raised his head and, with that sweet smile which 1 had to
love, said: 'Could it have meant, Muhammad, that thy
reaching Islam would "westernmost" point in thy life- and
that after that, the Jife ofthe West wouId cease ... ?'
After wbile spoke again: 'Nobody knows the
future but God. But sometimes chooses to give us, through
dream, glimpse of what is to befall us in the future. 1 myse1f
have had such dreams twice or thrice, and they have always
true. Oneof them, indeed, has made what 1am ... 1
was at that seventeen years old. We were living as exiles in
Kuwayt, but 1 could not bear the thought of the Ibn Rashids
ruling over homeland. Often would 1 beg- father,
God bestow His mercy upon "Fight, father, and drive
the Ibn Rashids out! Nobody has better to the throne
Riyadh than thou!" But father would brush aside stormy .
-demands as fantasies, and would remind that Mubammad
ibn., Rashid was the most powerful ruler in the lands of tlH:
DREAMS 171
and that held s\vay kingdom that stretched
the Syrian Desert in north to the sands of Empty
Quarter in the south, and that beduin tribcs trembled before
'his iron fist. night, however, 1 had strange dream. 1 saw
myself horseback lonely steppe at night, and in front of
horseback, was old Muhammad ibn Rashid,
usurper of fami1y's kingdom. We were both but
Ibn 'R.ashid held aloft in bls hand great, shining lantem. When
saw recognized the in and turned
and SPU"ed his horse to flight; but 1 raced after hirn, got hold
of comer of his cloak, and then of his and then of the lan
tem - and 1 blew out the lantem. When 1 awoke, 1 knew with
certainty that 1 was destined to wrest the rule from the House of
Ibn Rashid ...'
IN OF DREAM, 1897, Muhammad ibn
Rashid died. seemed to Abd ibn Saud opportune
moment strike; but Abd ar-Rahman, his father, was not in
clined to risk the peaceful Jjfeat Ku\vayt in so dubious under
taking. But the son's passion was more stubbom than the
father's inertia; and in the end the father gave in. With the
sistance of his friend, Shaykh Mubarak of Kuwayt, raised
few beduin tribes that bad remained faithful to hisfami1y, took
the field against the Ibn Rashids in the old manner, \",ith
dromedaries and horses and tribal banners, was quickly routed
superior forces and - in hisinnermost more
relieved than disappointed - retumed to Kuwayt, resolved
again to disturb the evening of his warlike adventures.
But the son did not give up easily. a1ways remembered
his dream ofvictory Muhammad ibn Rashid; and when
father renounced to kingship over Najd, it was that
. dream which prompted young Abd al-Azizto undertake his
reckless bid for power. got bold of few friends -
them liis cousins Abdullah ibn Jilu\vi and Musaad - drum
med together venturesome beduins, until thewhole
to forty men. rode out of like robbers,
stealthily, without drums and, 'avolding the
caravan routes and hiding in daytime, they
reached the vicinity ofRiyadh and made in secluded
172 ItOAD
ley. t.be same day. al-Aziz se1ectednve compa:nions out
tbe forty thus addressed the rcst:
'We six bave now placed destinies in the hands
We going to Riyadh - to conquer to lose it good. If
you should hear sounds fighting fromthe town. to our
ass.istance; but ifyou do not sunset tomorrow,
thcn you sball know that we and God receive our
souJs. Sbou1d this you others secretly, as fast as
you to Kuwayt.'
And the six men set out At nightfall they reached the
town and it through the breaches which years ago
Muhammad ibn Rashid bad made in the wal1s the conquered
city 10 humiliate its inhabitants. went, their weapons hid
den under their cloaks, straight to the the Rashidi amir.
l! was Iocked, for the fearing the hostile populace, was
customed to spend bis nights in the opposite. Abd
Aziz and his knocked the door; slave opened
it, to immediatt1y overpowered, bound and gagged; the
to the other inmates of the house - at that
fC\v sIaves and six helped them
selvcs to dates the larder and passed the night
reciting, tums, the
the the doors citadel were opened and the
omir stepped out, armed bodyguards and sla
Crying, God, in is lbn Saud " Abd al-Aziz and
five hurled themselves with their naked swords
the surprised Abdullah ibn threw hisjavelin
at the but ducked in and the javelin stuck with
quivering sbaft in the mud wal1of the citadel- there to seen
to this day. amir retreated in into the gateway; while
Abdullah pursued him sing1e-handedly into the interior the
citadeJ, Abd and his four remainiDg companions at
taeked the bodyguards, who, despite their superiority,
were too confused 10 defend themselVes effectively. An instant
Iater there the &t roof the amir, hard-pressed.
Abdullah ibn Jiluwi, begging for whicll was not grairted;
.and when down the rampari the roofand received
the Catal swordstroke, Abd al-Azizcried 'COine.
Riyadh! Here am ;it-Aziz, son ofAbd
the Ibn Saud, rightful ruler!' AIid the
DREAMS 173
of Riyadh, who hated their oppn::ssors, running
with their to the aid of their and their dromo
daries gaJlopedhis thirty-fi.ve companions through the city gates,
sweeping opposition before them like stonnwind. Within
al-Aziz ibn Saud was uncontested ruler of the city..
was in thc 1901. was twenty-one years old.
youth to close, and entered the second phase of
his life, that of and ruler.
Step step, province Ibn Saud wrested Najd
from the House of Ibn Rasbld pushing them back to their
land, the Jabal Shammar, and its capital HaiI. This expansion
was as calculated if it had devised general staff
working with Iogisticsand geopoliticaI notions - although
Ibn Saud had generaJ staff and had never laid eyes
His conquests proceeded spiraIJy, with Riyadh as their
fixed centre, and fonvard step was ever taken until tbe
viously conquered territory had been thorougbly subdued and
.consolidated. first acquired the districts to the east and
nortb of Riyadh, then extended bls rea.lm the westem
deserts. His northward progress was sIow, for the Ibn Rasblds'
stiIJ possesscd considerable power and were, in addition,
ported the Turks, with wbom they had formed close
in the past decadcs. Ibn Saud was hampered
poverty: the regions of Najd could not provide him
with sufficient for supplying large groups offi.gbting
for length of time.
t time,' told 1was 50 that 1had to
the je\vel-encrusted sword which Shaykh Mubarak had given
with Jewish moneylender at Kuwayt. 1could not af
ford carpet for saddle - but the empty sacks tbat were
placed under the sheepskin did as weB:
was yet wblch made Ibn Saud's
very hard the att;itude of the beduin tribes.
In spite of its towns and villages, is pri
marily land of beduins. It was their support antagonism
that decided the issues in tbe warfare between Ibn Saud and Ibn
Rashid at almost stage. They were fi.ck1e and changeable
and usually joined whichever party seemed to in the
dant at the moment offered the hope pcater spoiIs. past
master of such ,vas Faysal ad-Dawisb,
174 ROAD
cbieftain of the powerful Mutayr tribe, whose allegianeecould al
ways tip the scales in favour of one or the other of the two rival
dynasties. would to Hatt to loaded with gifts Ibn
Rashid; he would abandon Ibn Rashid and to Riyadh to
swear fealty to Ibn Saud - only to betray him month later;
was faithless to all, brave and shre\vd and obsessed tremen
dous greed for power; and were the sleepless nights which
caused Ibn Saud.
such difficulties, Ibn Saud coneeived plan - at first
probably intended to more than politica1 manoeuvre,
but destined to develop into grand idea capable of altering
facc of tm: entire Peninsula: the plan of settlingthe nomad tribes.
It was obvious that, having settled down, the beduins
would t<;> give up their double game between the warring
parties. Living as nomads, it waseasy for them to fold their tents
at moment's notice and to \vith their herds hither and
thither, from side to the other; but settJed mode of
would make. this impossible, for shifting of their allegiance to
the would bring with it the danger of losing houses
and plantations: and nothing is as dear to beduin as his
sessions.
ibn Saud made the settlement of beduins the most
point in his programme. In this was greatly assisted the
teachings of Islam, which always stressed the superiority of the
settled over the nomadic way of sent out religious
teachers who instructed the tribesmen in the faith and'preached
new idea with unexpected success. organization of the
lkl,wan ('brethren') - as thesettled beduins began to them
selves - took shape. first !k1'lllon settlement was that of
Alwa-Mutayr, the clan Ad-Dawish; their settlement,
wiyya, grew within few years into town of nearly thirty thou
sand inhabitants. other tribes suit.
religious enthusiasm the Ikhll'an and their warlike
tential powerlul instrument in the hands of Ibn Saud.
From then onward his wars assumed new aspect: the
religious fervour of\ the they outgrew their erstwhile
character of dynastic struggle for power .and wars of
faith. the lkhlvan, at least, this rebirth of faith hadmore than
personal connotation. In their uncompromising adh.e.renceto
the teachings of greai eighteenthcentury reformer, Muham
DREAMS 175
mad ibn Abd al-Wahhab (which aimed at restoration
to the austere purity its OOginnings and rejected alllater &in
lkhwan were, doubt, often filledwith exag
gerated sense of personal righteousness; but what most them
desired else was not merely personal but
the estabIishment of new society that could with justice
called Is1amic. of their concepts were primitive and
their .ardour frequent1y bordered fanaticism; but given
guidance and their deep religious devotion might
enabled them to their and in to 00
ihe nucleus of genuine socia1 and spiritua1 resurgenre of
all Arabia. Unfortunate1y, however, Ibn Saud failed 10gras;> the
tremendous import of such and remained
tent with imparting to the lklllvall only the barest rudiments of
religious and secular education - in fact, on1y as much as seemed
necessary to maintain their zealotic fervour. other words,
Saud saw in the lkhlvan movement instrument power.
In later years, this failule his part was destined to recoil
his own policies and at stage to endanger the veryexistence
the kingdom had created; and it gave perhaps tbe earliest in
dication that 1ackedthat inner which his people had
to of him. But the disillusionment of the IkJ,WQIl
with the and the disillttsionment with was
long time in the making ...
1913, with the tremendous striking force'of
his disposal, Ibn Saud at last felt strong enougb to attempt the
conquest of the province Al-Hasa ontbe Persian Gulf, which
had belonged to Najd but had occupied the Turks
fifty years earlier.
Warring against the Turks was new experienceto Ibn Saud;
off and had encountered Turkish detacbments, especially
field artillery, within the armies of Ibn Rashid. But attack
which was direct1y administeled the was
quite different affair: it would bring him into head-on collision
with Great Power. But Saud bad choice. Unless
brought AI-Hasa and its ports under his control, would al
ways remain cut off from the outer world, unable to obtain
sorely supplies of arms, ammunition and neces
sities Hfe. need justified the risk; but the risk was so great
that Ibn Saud long before undertaking assault
176 ROAD
Al-Hasa and its capital, AI-Hufuf. this day is food of
counting the circumstaoces in which the final decision was
made:
'We were already in viewof Al-Hufuf. From the sand dune
which 1 was sitting 1 cou1d c1ear1y see the walls of the powerfu1
citadel over100king the town. heart was heavy with indeci
sion as 1 weighed the advantages and the dangers of this under
taking. 1 fe1t tired; 1 10nged for and and with the
thought of the face of wife, Jawhara, before
eyes. 1 began to think of verses which 1 might tell her if she were
side - and 1 rea1ized it, 1 was busy composing
to her, forgetting where 1 was and how grave
decision 1 had to make. As soon as the was ready in
mind 1 wrote it down, sealed it, called of couriers and
commanded him: "Take the two fastest dromedaries, ride to
Riyadh without stopping and hand this over to Muhammad's
mother." And as the courier was disappearing'in acloud ofsand
dust, 1 suddenly found that mind had made decision
garding the war: 1 wou1d attack AI-Hufuf, and God wou1d lead
to victory.'
confidence proved justified. In daring assau1t, his war
riors the citadel; the Turkish troops and
were permitted to withdra\v with their arms and equipment to
the whence they embarked for Ottoman
government, however, was not prepared to yield its possession
so punitive expedition against Ibn Saud was decided
at Istanbul. But before it could undertaken, the Great .
War broke forcing the Turks to dep10y their military
forces elsewhere; and with the end ofthe war, the Ottoman
pireceased to exist.
Deprived of Turkish support and hemmed in to the north
territories wblch were now administered Britain and France,
Ibn Rasbld cou1d 10nger put effective resistance. Led
Faysa1ad:Dawish - now one of the most valiant paladins of Ibn
Saud - the forces took Hail in 1921,and the House ofIbn
RashAd lost its last strol1ghold.
climax of Ibn Saud's expansion in 1924-1925, when
conquered the Hijaz, including Medina and Jidda,
and expelled the Sharifian dynasty which had to power
there after Sharif Husayn's British-supported revolt against the
DRIlAMS 177
Turks in 1916. It "'n5 with the ronquest this Land 15
that Ibn Saud. now forty-five old, fuHy emerged into
the view of the world.
Hi5 unprecedCl11cd to power at when most the
Middle Ea5t had !\uccumbed to Western penetration filledthe
Arab world with tl1e that here at last was the leader who
wouJd lift the Arab nation out of its bondage; and
other Muslim groups besides the Arabs 100ked to to bring
about revival Islamic idea in its ful1est sense establish
ing state in wblcl11hespirit of the Koran would reign supreme.
But these hopes rel1\ainedunfulfilled. As his power increased and
was consolidated, it evident that Ibn Saud was
than king - king aiming than so many other
cratic Eastern rulcrs before
good andjust in bls personal affairs, to his friends
and supporters and generous toward his enemies, graced
tel1ectual gifts far the level of most of his followers, Ibn
Saud has, neverthe!ess; not displayed that breadth of vision and
inspired leadership was expected of has
tablished conditiol1 of public security in bls vast domains
equalled in Arab lunds since the time of the early Caliphate
thousand years ago; but, unIike those early Caliphs,
plished tbls of harsh laws and punitive measures and
not inculcating il1 bls people scnse of civic responsibility.
has sent handl'ul of young abroadto study medicine
and wireless telegraphy; but has done notblng to imbue bls
ple whole with desire for education and thus to lift them
out of the ignorancc in wblch they steeped for
centuries. always speaks - with every outward sign of con
viction - of the grandeur of the Islam.ic way of life; but has
done nothing to build equitable, progressive society in
wblch that way of could find its cultural expression.
is simple, modest and hard-working; but at the same time,
indulges and tbose around to indulge in the most
extravagant and sCl1seless luxuries. is deeply religious and
out to the lctler every formal injunction of IsIamic Law;
but rarely seems to give thought to the spiritual essence
and purpose of those injunctions. performs the obliga
tory daily prayers with utmost regularity and spends long hours
at night in deep devotion; but it never seems to occurred to
178
him thatprayer is means and not end in itself. lovcs
to speak of the responsibility of the ruler toward his subjects,
and often quotes the Propbet's saying: is sbepherd
entrusted witb I,"esponsibility toward his flock'; but, nevertbeless,
bas neglected tbe education of own sons and tbus left
poorly equipped for the tasks that lie before them. And
wben was asked why did not try to organize bis state
less personal basis, so tbat his sons might inherit
ganized governmental structure, answered:
'1 conquered kingdom with own sword and
efforts; let sons exert tlleir own efforts after
1 conversation with tbe in which bis improvi.
dence and lack of administrative vision was fully demonstrated.
It was in late in 1928, when the famous Ieader of the
Syrian independence movement, Amir Shakib Arslan, paid
visit to the Ibn Saud introduced with the words:
is Muhammad Asad, son. has just returned tbe
southern regions. loves to among beduins:
Amir Shakib, was not merely politicalleader but
of many-sided interests and scholar of great erudition, was
mediately curious kno\v when learned that
1 was convert to Islam. 1 described to some as
pects of that to the south, and particularly
ences in Wadi Bisha, which had never before visited
European. great agricultural possibilities of that its
wealth of water and its fertile soil had struck as e,{tremely
pronUsing; and in the course of 1 turned to the
King and said:
'1 lmam, that Wadi Bisha could easily
granary sufficient supply tlle \vhole of the Hijaz with wheat.
provided it were scientifically surveyed and developed.'
perked his ears, for the imports ofwheat for the
province of Hijaz consumed the country's revenues
and shortage revenues had always Ibn Saud's greatest
worry.
'How long would it take: asked 'to develop Wadi
Bisha in this
Not being expert, 1could not supply clear-cut ans\ver;
1 suggested thata commission technical experts from abroad
should survey the region and recommerld concrete plans for its
DRBAMS 179
development. It would take, 1ventured to say, at most about five
to ten years to make the [ preductive.
'Ten years!' exclaimed Ibn Saud. ' years is very long
time. We beduins know only thing: whatever we have in
hands we put into our mouths and eat. plan [ ten years
ahead is [ too long for . '
hearing this astonishing statement, Amir Shakib stared at
, open-mouthed, as if disbelieving his own ears. And 1 could
only stare back at ...
lt was then that 1 to ask myself: Is Ibn Saud great
whom comfort and kingship have lured away from the path of
greatness - merely of great valour and shrewdness who
never aspired to than personal power?
tbls , 1 satisfactorily answer this question; for
although 1 have known for years, and known well,
part of Ibn Saud's nature remained inexplicabIe to . Not
.that is secretive in way; speaks freely about .mmself
and often relates his experiences: but his character has too
facets.to easily grasped, and his outward sim
plicity conceals heart uneasy as the , and rich in moods
and inner contradictions.
His personal authority is tremendous, but it does not so
actual power as the suggestive strength of his char
acter. is utterly unassuming in words and demeanour. His
truly democratic spirit enabIes to converse with the bed
uins who to dirty, tattered garments as if were
of thern;-and to \ them to call his first , Abd
al-Aziz. the other hand, and contemp
tuous to\vard h.igh1y-placed officials whenever discerns ser
vility in them. despises snobbery. 1 reI:lember incident
in when, during dinner at the l palace, the head of
ofMecca's nobIest families wrinkled bls nose at the 'beduin
crudity' of some of the Najdis present who were gustily eating
their rice in large fistfuls; in order to demonstrate 1Us \ refine
ment, the aristocrat daintily manipulated hisfood with
his finger6ps - \Vllen suddenly the voice of the King boomed
out: ' fine l toy with your food so gingerly: is it
cause are accustomed to dig with your fingers in dirt? We
people of Najd are not afraid of our hands; they are clean - and
therefore we eat heartily and tbe handful!'
180 ROAD
Sometimes, when is entirely re1axed, gentle smile plays
about Ibn Saud's mouth and gives almost spiritual quality to
the beauty ofhi5 face. 1 that were music not regarded as
reprehensible the 5trict Wahhabi code which Ibn Saud fol
lows, would undoubtedly expressed himself in it; but as
it is, shows his musical bent in his little poems, his colour
ful description5 of and his songs of war and love
which spread through the whole of Najd and are 5ung
as they ride their dromedaries across the desert and wo
in the seclusion of their chambers. And it reveals it5e)fin
the way his daily life follow5 regular, elastic rhythm suited to
the demands of his royal office. Like Juliu9 Caesar,
to blgh degree the capacity to pursue several trains of thought
at and the same time, without in the least curtailing the
tensity with which individual problem: and it is
this remarkable gift which permits him to direct
tl1e affairs of his vast kingdom without falling into confusion
breaking down from overwork, and still find and inclina
tion to cultivate 50lavishly the 50cietyof women. acuteness
of bls perceptions is often uncanny. has a)most unfailing,
instinctive insigbt into the motives of the with whom
has to deal. Not infrequently - as 1 myself blld opportunity
to witness - is to read men's thoughts before they are
spoken, and seems to sense 's attitude toward at the
very of that ri1an's entering the It is this ability
which has it possible for Ibn Saud to thwart several
ceedingly well-prepared attempts his life, and to make
lucky on-the-spot decision in politica) matters.
In short, Ibn Saud seems to possess of the qualities
wblch could make great, but has never made real at
tempt to achieve greatness. Not being introspective tempera
ment, has tremendous talent for rationalization, for per
suading hi.mself of his o\vn righteousness in the face of the most
glaring lapses, and easilyevades all self-examination. Those who
surround - his courtiers and the innumerable hangers-on
who off his bounty - certainly do notblng to counteract this
unfortunate tendency.
Belyingthe tremendous promise ofhis younger years, \vhen
appeared to dreamer of stirring dreams, has brokcn
perhaps without reaJizing it himself - thc spiriL of 11igh-strung
DREAMS 181
nation had wont to look to him as to God-sent
leader. They had expected too of him to bear the disap
pointment of their expectations :with. equanimity; and some of
the best among the of Najd now speak in bitter terms of
what they consider betrayal of their trust.
1 shall never forget the look of and hopelessness in the
face of Najdi friend - who had most ardent
believer in Ibn Saud's leadership and had foHowed him through
thick and thin in the most difficult of his royal
when, speaking of the told
'When we rode with Ibn Saud against Ibn Rasbld in those
early days and when we rode wiih under banners inscribed
i/aha A//ah- is God but God' - against that
traitor to Islam, Sharif Husayn, we thought that Ibn Saud was
new Moses, destined to lead his people out of the bondage of ig
norance and decay into the promised land of Islam. But when
settled down to newly won comforts and luxuries, forgetting"
his and their future, we found to horror that was
Pharaoh .. .'
friend was, of course, far too harsh and even unjust in
condemnation of Ibn Saud: for is Pharaoh, oppressor;
is kind and 1 have doubt that loves his people.
But is Moses, either. failure lies rather in his having
fai1ed to as great as the people had thought him to - and
as, perhaps, could have had the trumpet-cal1
of youth. is eagle who never reaHy took wing.
has simply remainecl benevolent tribal chieftain
immensely enlarged scale ... *
-3
ON MORNINO of departure from Hail 1 awaken
ed loud music which fl.ows in through the window
castle singing, chirping and strumming, like
hundred violins and WiDd instruments being tuned before the
opening of grand-opera performance: that disjointjed poly
short time after completiol1 of this book (1953), Ibn saud died thc
of scventy-three; and with his passing an of Arabian history came to
closc. When 1 saw him last in the autumn of 1951 the occasion of an official
visit to Saudi 011 behalf of the Govemment of Pakistan), it to
had last of the tragic waste of his life. His face, so
strong I!nd !ively, was bitter and withdrawn; when spoke of himsclf, scemed
to speaking of something that was already dead and buried and beyond recall.
182
of short, discordant 5trokes whicb, they are 50
and 50 5ubdued, seem to n1ysterious, a1m05t
ghostly unity oftone ... But thismust indeed buge orches
50 mighty are the waves of it sends forth ...
As 1step to the window and look into the dawning grey of
the morning, over and beyond the empty market place, beyond
the mud-grey houses ofthe town, toward tbe foothills where the
tamarisks and the palm orchards grow - 1 recognize it: it is the
music ofthe draw wells in the orchards which are just beginning
their day's work, hundreds of them. In large leather bags tbe
water is being drawn camels, the dra\v run over
crudely fashioned pulleys, and pulley rubs against
its wooden axle sings, pipes, creaks and soughs in multi
tude ofhiglJ low tones until the is fuHy unroHedand tbe
comes to standsti1l; \vhereupon it gives out violent
sound like shout, and the shout gradually fades away in sigh
ing chords, now powerfulJy accompanied the rush of water
into wooden troughs; and then the camel tums and goes
slowly back to the well- and again the makes music while
the ropes roll over it and the waterskin down into the well.
Because there so wells, the singing does not stop for
single moment; the tones meet in accords, now separate;
some of them with new jubilation while others die away.
.Whole cascades ofungraspable Jhythms fiow together and away
from other - roaring, creaking, piping, singing - what
magnificent orchestra! Itis not co-ordinated human design:
and therefore it almost ,reaches tbe greatness of nature, whose
wiJJ is
VH
MIDWAY
-1
W
E LEFT and riding toward
dina: now three riders - for of Ibn Musaad'5
a1-Assaf, is accompanying us of
.
the way errand of the '.
Mansur is 50handsome that if were to the streets
of Western city the women would turn to 100k after him.
is very tall, with strong, virile face and amazingly even fe
tures. His skin is whitish-brown - of good
Arabs - and pair of black eyes survey the \vorld
from beneath \ve11-shaped bro\\'s. Therc i5nothing 10
ofZayd's delicCl.cy or of Zayd's quiet detachment: the lines of his
face speak violent, if passions and to his
pearance aura of sombreness quite unlike the gravity
ofmy Shammar friend. But Mansur, likeZayd, has lot
the wor1d and makes pleasant
the soil that has thc
sands of the Nufud we descry theJitt1e animal life that fiJls
it: tiny grey lizards zigzag between our camels' feet
credible speed, take refuge under thorny shrub and watch our
passing with eyes; little grey fie1d mice\vith bushy tai!s, .
resernbIing squirre1s; and their cousins, the '\vhosc
flesh is esteerned the beduins of Najd and is, indeed,
one of the tenderest delicacies 1 ever tasted. is al50
the edible lizard ca11ed d/mb which thrives the
of p1ants and tastes like cross chicken fish. B1ack
four-1egged beet1es the size ofa small hen's egg obser\'ed
as they roll with touching patience 0011 of drycamel-dung;
pushing it back\vard \vith strong hind legs\vhilethe body 1eans
the fore1egs, they roll the precious find painfully to\vard their
homes, their backs if happens to. obstruct
their path, turn over with difficulty their legs again, roH t11eir
possession few inches farther, fall again. get up.again and work,
J83
184 ROAD
tire!essly... Sometimes grey hare jumps away jn loog leaps
from beneath grey bushes. we gazelies, but too distant
to shoot; they disappear io the blue-grey shadows between two
hills.
'Tell Muhammad,' asks 'how did it
that thou hast to among the Arabs? And how didst
thou to embrace Islam
'1 will.tell thee how it happened,' interposes zayd. 'First
fe)} in love with the Arabs, and then with their faith. Isn't it true,
uncle?'
'What zayd says is Mansur. years ago, when I
first to Arab lands, 1 was attracted way you people
lived. And when I began to ask myself what you thought and
what believed in, I to know about Islam.'
'And didst thou, Muhammad, find at that Islam
was the True Word of
'Well, this did not about so quickly. For tblog,
1didnot that God had ever spoken directly to
that the books which claimed to His word were
thing but the works of wise .. .'
Mansur stares at with utter incredulity: 'How could that
? Didst thou not believein the Scriptures
which Moses brought, the Gospel ofJesus? But 1 always
thought that the peoples of the West at least in
'Sometlo, Mansur, and others do not. 1 was of those
others ...'
And I explain that people in the West long
ceased to regard the Scriptures - their own as well as those of
others - as true Revelations of God, but see in them rather the
blstory of man's religious aspirations as they evolved over
the ages. .
'But this view of was shaken as soon as 1 to know
something of Islam,' 1 add. .'1 to know about it when 1
fouod that the Muslims lived in way quite different from what
the Europeans thought should man's way; time 1
leamed lhe,teachingsot-Islam,] seemed
to discover something that 1had always known "'ithout knowing
it ....
And $0 1. go 'tel1ingMansur of first journey to the Near
East - othow in D,esert of Sinai I had first impression of

MIDWAY 18S
the Arabs; of what 1 saw and felt in Palestine, Egypt, Trans
jordan and Syria; of how in Damascus 1 had first premoni
tion that new, bltherto unsuspected way to truth was slowly
unfolding before and how, after visiting Turkey, 1 retumed
Europe and found it difficult to live again in the Westem
world: for, the hand. 1 was eager to gain deeper
standing the strange uneasiness which first acquaintance
with Arabs and their culture had produced in hoping
that it would better understand what 1 myself expected
oflife; and. the other 1 had reached the point where it
was clear to that never again would 1 to
identify myself with of Western society.
IN SPRING of 1924 the Frankfurter Zeitung sent out
second joumey Middle East. The book describing
previous travels had last completed. (It was pubIished
few months after departure under the title
Morgenland - which 1 meant to convey that it was not book
about the romantic, exotic outward picture of Muslim East
rather endeavour to penetrate to its day-by-day realities.
Although its anti-Zionist attitude and unusual predilection for
the Arabs caused something of flutter in the German press, 1
afraid it did very wel1.)
again 1crossed the Mediterranean and saw the coast of
Egypt before railway from Port Said to Cairo
was like turning the leaves of familiar book. Betweenthe Suez
Canal and Lake the Egyptian aftemoon unfolded it
self. Wild ducks s\vam in thc water and tamarisks shook their
finely scalloped branches. grew up out of the plain,
which was at first sandy and sparsely covered with vegetation.
Dark waterbutraloes, often coupled \vjth camels. werc dra'.ving
ploughs with lazy limbs through the spring soH. As we tumed
wcstward from the SuezCanal. Egyptian green enveloped us.
When 1 saw on<;y--again the slim. ta11 women who were swaying
in indescribabte rhythm, striding over the fields and carrying
pitchers free their heads with arms outstretched. 1 to
myself: Nothing in the world - neither the most perfect
automobile nor the proudest bridge nor the most thou.ghtful
book - replace this grace which has beenlost in West
I
186
and i5 already threatened in the East - this grace which is
nothing but expression the magic consonance
being's SeJj' and the world that surrounds him .
This time I travelled first clas5. In the compartment there were
two passengers Qreek businessman from.
Alexandria who, with the ease 50 charaeteristic of Levan
tines, involved in animated conversation and sup
witty observations all we saw; and an Itnrda,
headman, who - judging from his costJy 5ilk kaftan and
thethick, gold watch chain that protruded from sash - was
obviously rich but seemed content to remain entirely uneduca.ted.
In fact. almost as soon our conversation, readily
admitted that cou1d neither read nor write; nevertheless,
a1so dispJayed 5barp common sensc and frequentJy crossed
swords with the Greek.
We were taJking, I remember, about of the 50cial
cip1es in Islam which at that time strongly occupied thoughts.
Greek fellow traveller did not entire1yagree with admira
tion of the 50cial equity in the Law of Islam.
'It is not as equitable as you seem to think, dear friend'
and, changing from the French, into which we had lapsed, into
for the benefit of our Egyptian companion, now
turned to ou people say that your religion is 50
Couldst thou perhaps then tell us,why it is that allows
Muslim mentomarry Christian Jewish girls butdoes not a110w
your daugbters and sisters to marry Christian or Jew? Dost
thou c8ll this justice, huh?'
.'1 do, indeed: replied tbe without moment's
hesitation, 'and I shall tell thee why our religious law N=en
tbus laid down. We do not believe tbat Jesus-
and God'5 bIessing upon him - was GQd's but we
do as we eonsider Moses and Abraham and tbe
other Propbets oftbe Bible, true'Prophet ofGod, ofthem
having sent to mankind in tbe same way as the Last Pro
phet, Muhammad - God bIess him and give him
was sent: and if Jewish or girJ Muslim,
she rest assured that of persons who are holy to
her will ever spoken of among her new
whi1e, the other hand, shou1d Muslim
Muslirn, it is certain that wbom sbe regards as God's Messen
MIDWAY 187
ger WiJ1 abused ... and perhaps ber own children:
for not children usually foJlow tbeir father's faith? Dost thou
think it would fair to expose her to such pain and humilia
tion?'
Greek had answer to this except embarrassed shrug
of his shoulders; but to it that the simple, iI1iterate
umda had, with that common sense 50 peculiar to his
touched the kemel of important problem.
as with that old hajjiin lerusalem, 1felt that new door tCi Islam
was being opened to
IN ACCORDANCE WITH changed financial circumstanccs,
1 was now to live in Cairo in style which wou1d been
unthinkable few months earlier. 1 longer needed to count
pennies. days when, during first stay in this city, 1 had to
subsist bread, olives and milk, were forgotten. But in res
pect 1 kept faith with the 'traditions' of past: instead
ting up in of quarters of Cairo, 1 rented
rooms in the house of old friend, the fat woman from Trieste,
who received with and motherly kiss both

the tblrd day after arrival, at sunset, 1 heard the muf
fled sound from the Citadel. At the moment
circle oflights sprang up the highest galleries the two mina
rets that flanked the Citadel mosque; and all the minarets of
the mosques in the took that i1lumination and repeated
it: minaret similarcircle 1ights. old Cairo
there went strange quicker and at the
Cestive the step the people, louder the polyphon
ous noise in streets: you could sense and almost hear new
tension quiver at all
And all this because the new crescent
nounc::cd new month (Cor the Islamic calendar goes lunar
and and that month was Ramadan, the most
solemn month of the Islamic year. It commemorates the tiine,
more thirteen hundred years ago, when, according to tradi
tion, Muhammad received the first revelation of the
Striet (asting is expected Muslim during this month.
and women, those who are are forbidden to take
188 ROAD
food drink (and even to smoke) from the moment wben the
first streak of light the eastem horizon annourices the coming
dawn, unti1 sunset: for thirty days. During these thirty days the
people of went around with glowing as if elevated to
hoJy regions. In the thirty nights you heard singing
and cries joy, while all the mosques glowed with light unti1
daybreak.
Twofold, 1 leamed, is the purpose of this month of fasting.
one has to abstam from food and drink in order to feel in one's
body what the and hungry feel: thus, social
bility being hammered into consciousness as religious
postulate. other purpose of fasting during Ramadan is self
discipline - aspect of individual morality. strongly
tuated in all IsIamic teachings for instance, in the tota1
hibltion of all intoxicants, which Islam regards as too easy an
avenue of consciousness and In these
two elements - brotherhood and individual self-discipline
- 1began.to discem the outlines ofIslam's ethical outlook.
In endeavour to gain fuller picture of what Islam really
meant and for, 1 derived great benefit from the explana
tions which my Muslims friends were to
provide Outstanding among them was Shayk.h Mustafa al
of the most prominent Islamic scholars of the
and certainly _the most brilliant the ulama
Azbar was destined to its rector some
1ater). must have been in his middle forties at that
but stocky, muscular body had the alertness and vivacity of
- twenty-year-old. In spite erudition and gravity, his sensc
humour never left pupil"of the great Egyptian reformer
Mubammad Abduh, and associated in his youth with
tbat inspiring firebrand, Jamal ad-Din a1-Afghani, Shaykh
Maraghi was himself keen, critical thinker. never failed to
upon me thatthe Muslims of recent times had fal1en
very-short indeed of the ideals of tbeir faith, and that nothing
couid erroneous than to the potentialities of
message the yardstick of present.day
and thought - .
, - just said, 'it wou1d erroneous to see in the Chris
unloving behaviour toward another refutation
InC$S8ge oflove .'
MIDWAY HS'/
With this warning, Shaykh AI-Maraghi introduced to Al
Azhar.
Out the crowded bustle Mousky Street, Cairo's oldest
shopping centre, we reached small, out-of-the-way square,
of its sides occupied broad, straight front of the Azhar
Mosque. double gate and shadowy forecourt we
entered the courtyard ofthe mosque large quadrangle
surrounded ancient arcades. Students dressed in 10ng, dark
jubbas and white turbans were sitting straw mats and reading
with low voices from their books and manuscripts. lectures
were given in huge, covered mosque-hall beyond. Several
teachers sat, also straw mats, under pi1lars which crossed
hall in rows, and in semicircle before teacher
crouched group students. lecturer never raised his voice,
so that it obviously required great attention and concentratlon
not miss his words. should thought that such
absorption would conducive to real scholarship; but Shaykh
AI-Maraghi soon shattered illusions:
'Dost thou seethose "scholars" over therel' asked .
like those sacred cows in India which, 1 told, eat up
the printed they find in the streets ... Yes, they gob
up all printed pages from books that been written
centuries ago, but they do not digest them. longer think
for themselves; they read and repeat, read and repeat - and the
studcnts who listen to them learn only to "read and repeat, gener
ation generation.'
Shaykh Mustafa,' 1 interposed, 'Al-Azhar is, after
the central seat of Islamic learning, and the oldest university in
the world! encounters its nearly page
Muslim cultural history. What about the great thinkers, the
theologians, historians, philosophers, mathematicians it has pro
duced over the last ten centuriesl'
'It stopped producing them several ago,' replied
ruefully. "Well, perhaps not quite; here and there an
dent thinker has somehow managed to from Al-Azhar
in reccnt times. But the whole, Al-Azhar bas lapsed into
the sterility ftom the whole Muslim world is suffering, and
its old impetus is but extinguished. Tbose ancient Islamic
thinkers thou hast mentioned would never dreametJ
that after 50 centuries their thoughts, instead being
190 ROAD
tinued and developed, would only repeated over and"
again. as if thcy were ultimate and truths. If there is
change for the thinking must encouraged in
stead ot' the present thought-imitation ...'
Shaykh AI-Maraghi's trenchant characterization AI-Azhar
helped to reaJize of the deepest causes of the de
that stared in face everywhere in Muslim world.
Was not scholast1c petrifaction this ancient university
mirrored, in varying degre.:s, in social sterility ofthe Muslim
present? Was not the counterpart of this il!1tellectual stagnation
to found in the passive, almost indolent, so .
Mus1ims the unnecessary poverty in which ,theyJived, of
their mute toleration of the social wrongs to wl1ich they
were subjected?
And was it wonder 1 asked myself, that, fortified
such tangibIe evidences of Muslirn decay, so erroneous
views about itself were prevalent throughout West?
These popular, Western views could summarized thus:
downfall of Muslims is mainly due Islam \vhich, far from
beinga religious ideologycomparable Christianityor Judaism,
is rather unholy of desert fanaticism, gross sensuality,
superstition and dumb fatalism that prevents its adherents from
participating in mankind's ad,'ance tO\\Iard higher social forms;
instead of 1iberating the spirit the shackles of
scurantism, Islam rather tightens them; and, coosequently, the
sooner Muslim peoples freed from their
to Islamic beliefs and social practices and induced to adopt
the Western way of life. the for them and for rest of
theworld . , .
had now convinced that the mind
of average Westerner held utterly distorted image of Is
lam. What 1 saw in pages of the was not 'crudely
materia1istic' world-view but, contrary, intense God
consciousness that expressed itself in rational acceptance of
God-created nature: harmonious side-by-side of intellect and
sensual urge, spiritual need and social demand. It was obvious
to that the decline ofthe Muslims \vas due to short
comings in Islam but rather to their failure to live to it.
For, indeed, it was Islam that had carried the early Muslims to
tremendous cultural heights directing their energies
MIDWAY 191
ward conscious tbought as the only means to understanding the
of God's creation and, thus, of will. No demand bad
been made of them to believe in dogmas difficult even impos
sible of intellectual comprehension; in fact, dogmawhatso
was to found in the Propbet's message: and, thus,
thirst after knowledge which distinguished early Muslim history
had not forced. as elsewhere in the world, to assert itself in
painful struggle against the traditionaI faith. the contrary,
it had stemmed exclusively from that faith. Prophet
had declared that Striving a/ter kl101vledge is sacredduty
Muslim and and his foUowers were led to
understand that acquiring knowledge could they
worship the Lord. When they pondered the Prophet's saying,
God creates110 disease c,eating '"! well, they
realized that searching unknown cures they \vould contri
bute to fulfilment of God's will earth: and so medical
search invested with the holiness religious duty,
read the Koran verse, We /ivil1g t/ling
H'ater - and in their endeavour to penetrate to meaning of
these words, they began to study living organisms and laws
of their development: and thus they established the science of
biology. pointed to the of the stars and
their movements as witnesses of their Creator's glory: and
the scienccs astronomy and mathematics were taken
the Muslims '.vith fervour which in other religions was
served for alone. Copernican system, cstab
lished the earth's rotation around its axis and the revolution of
the planets around the sun, was evolved in Europe at the begin
ning of the sixteenth century (only met the fury of
ecclesiastics, who read in it contradiction of the Iiteral teach
ings of' BibJe): but foundations of this had actu
been laid six hundred years earlier, in Muslim countries -.
for already in the ninth al1d 1enth centuries Muslim astronomers
had reac!led the conclusion that the earth was globular and that
it.rotatcd around its axis, and had made accurate calculations of
Iatitudes and longitudes; of tl1em maintained - \vith
out being accused of heresy - that the earth rotated around
the sun. in the same they tQok to chen1istry and physics
and physioiogy, 10 tl1c other scienccs in w'ruch Mus\im
genius was to find its most lasting ffiOl1timerlt. In building that
192 ROAD
monument they did more than follow admonition of tbeir
Prophet that // way in search know
ledge, Godwill make easy him way Paradise; that The
scientisl walks. in Ihe palh God, that superiority the
leamed II,e piousis like superiorilY the when
it is/ull all otherstars; and that ink O/Ihe scholars is
the bIood o/marlyrs.
Throughout the whole creative period of history
that is to say, during the first five centuries after Prophet's
- science and had greater cbampion than Mus
lim civi1ization and secure than lands in which
Islam was supreme.
Sociallife was similarly affected teachings ofthe Koran.
At when in Christian Europe an epidemic was regarded
as scourge ofGod to which had but to submit meekly - at
that and before it, Muslims followed the injunc
of their Prophet which directed them to combat epidemics
the infected and areas. And at time when
even and nobles of Christendom regarded bathing as
alrnost indecent even the poorest of Muslim houses
had at least bathroom, whi1e elaborate p\lblic baths were
in every Muslim city (in the ninth century, for instance,
Cordoba had three hu.ndred of them) : and tms in response to
Prophet's teaching tbat Clean/iness is o//aith. Muslim
did not into conflict with of spiritu8I life if
took pleasure in the beautiful ofmateriallife, for, accord
to tbe Prophet, Godlo,'es 10see servants evidence
boimty.
In short, Islam gave tremendous incentive to cultural
acblevements which constitute of the proudest pages in
history of mankind; and it gave tms incentive saying to
the intellect and No to obscurantism, Yes to aIid No"10
quietism, to life and No to asceticism. Little wonder, then,
tbat as as it emerged beyond tbe of Islam
won new adberents leaps and bounds. and nurtured in
tbe world-contempt of and Augustinian Christianity,
tbe populations of Syria and North Africa, and little later of
Visigothic Spain, saw themselves suddenly confronted with
teaching wmch denied the of Original Sin and stressed
inbom dignity of earth1y life: and so tbey rallied in ever-in
MIDWAY
193
creasing numbers to the new creed that them to understand.
that was God's vicar earth. This, and not legendary
'conversion at the point the sword', was the explanation
Islam's amazing triumph in the glorious morning its llistory.
lt was not the Muslims that had made Islam great: it \vas Islam
that had made the Muslims great. But as soon as their faith
habit and ceased to programme of life, to
sciously pursued, the creative impulse that underlay their civili
zation waned and gradually way to indolence, steri1ity and
cu1tural decay.
NEW INSIGHT 1 had gained, and the progress 1 was
making in the Arabic (1 had arranged for student of
Al-Azhar to give daily lessons), made feel that now at last
1 possessed something like key to the Muslim mind. No 10nger
was 1 so that European 'could never consciously grasp
the total as 1 had written in book few months
earlier; for now this Muslim world longer seemed so entirely
to Westt:rn associations. It occurred to that jf was
able to certain degree of detachment from his own past
habits thought and allow forthe possibility that they might
not the valid ones, the so strange Muslim world
might indeed graspable ...
But although 1found in Islam that appealed to intel
lect as as to instincts, 1 did not consider it desirable
intelligent to his thinking and his entire view
of to system not devised himself.
Shaykh Mustafa; 1 asked erudite friend Al
Maraghi occasion, 'why should it necessary to confine
oneself toone particular teaching and one particular set in
junctions? Mightn't it better to leave ethical inspiration to
one's inner voice7'
'What thou art asking, young brother, is why shou1d
there institutional religion. answer is simple. Only
few - only prophets - are able to understand
the inner voice that speaks in them. Most of us are trammelled
our personal interests and desires - and if were to
low what his own heart dictates, we would complete
moral chaos could never agree mode of behaviour.
194
oou1dst ask, course, whether there to
the general rule - en1ightenedpeople who feel have need
"guided" in what they consider to right or wrong; but
1ask would not very claim that
exceptional right for themselves? And what would
sultT
1 HAD BEEN IN CAIRO for nearly six weeks when 1 suffered
recurrence of mataria, which had attacked in Palestine
previous year. It began with headache and dizziness and
pains in 1imbs; and end of day 1 was flat
back, unable lift hand. Signora Vitelli, landlady, bus
tlOO around aImost as if she \vere enjoying helplessness;
but her concern was genuine. She gave hot m.ilk drink and
placed cold compresses over head - but when 1 suggestOO
that perhaps doctor should caIIed in, she bristled indig
nantly:
doctor - pooh! What do those butchers know mala
ria! 1 know about it thao of them. saihted second
husband died of it in Albania. We had 1iving
1in
Durazzo
for some years and soul, was often racked with pains
. worse than yours; but always had confidence in ...'
1 was too weak to argue, and let her with potent
brew of hot Greek wine quinine - not of your sugar
coated pilIs but real, powderOO stuff shook with its
bitterness almost more thao fever did. strange
to say, 1had confidence in Vitelli io spite of her
ous reference her 'sainted second husbai1d'.
night, white body was buming with fever, 1 sudden1y
heard tender, intensive music from the street: the sound of
barrel organ. It was oot of those ordinary barrel organs with
\\lheezy and cracked pipes, but rather something that re
minded of the brittle, old clavichords which, because
were too de1ic2.te and too limited in nuances, had long ago
discarded in 1 had seen such barrel organs earIier in
Cairo: carried his back, folIowed him,
turning thehandle; and the tones feH 5ingly, short and neat,like
arrows hitting thei, mark, like the tinkling of glass, with spaces
in-between. And as they \\'ere 50 unmixed and so isolated from
MIDWAY 195
another, these tones did not allow the listener to grasp the
whole melody, but dragged instead, in jerks, through tender,
tense were like secret which you were trying to
unravel, but could not; and they tormented with their eter
nal repetition in your head, over and through the night, Iike
whirling circle from wblch there was escape, like the dance
of the whirling dervishes had seen at Scutari - was it months,
was it years ago? - after you had passed through the world's
densest cypress forest ...
It had most unusua1 forest, that Turkish cemetery at
Scutari, just across the Bosporus from IStanbul: alleys-aild paths
between innumerable cypresses and, under them, innumerable
upright and.fallen tombstones with weather-wom Arabicinscrip
tions. cemetery had 10ngago ceased to used; its dead had
been dead for very 10ng time. Out of their bodies had sprung
nUghty tree trunks, sixty, 'eighty feet blgh, growing into the
changing seasons and into the stillness which in that grove was
so great that was left formelancholy. Nowhere did
feel so strongly as here that the dead might asleep.
dead of world which had allowed its living live
fuHy; the hurnamty without
After short wandering through cemetery, then
the, narrow, lanes of Scutari, 1 upon little mosque
which revealed itself as such on1y in the beautiful ornamental
arabesques over the door. As the was ha1f 1entered
and stood in dusky in the of wblch several figures
sat carpet in circle around old, old wore
cloaks and blgh, brown, brim1ess felt hats. imam
\\'as reciting passage from the Koran in monotonous voice.
Along wall sat few musicians: drum-beaters, flutists and
kamallja players with their 10ng-necked, violinlike instruments.
It stiuck that this strangeassembly must the \vhirling
dervishes' of whom 1 had heard so mystic order that
aimed at bringing about, means of certain rhythmically re
peated intensified an ecstatic trance in adept
which was said to direct aJld personal
e'tperience God.
silence wmch fol1o\ved the imam's recitation was suddenly
broken thio,high-pitched sound ofa flute; and the
. set in monotoncusly, almost wailingly. As ifwith movcmeot
196 ROAD
the dervishes rose, threw off their cloaks and stood in tbeir
wblte, flowing tunics which reached to the ankles and were
belted at the waistwith knotted scarves. Then of them
made ha1f-tum, so that, standing in circle, they faced
other in pairs; whereupon they crossed their over chest
and bowed deeply before another (and 1 had to think of the
old minuet, and ofcavaliers in embroidered bowing before
their ladies). moment the dervishes stretched their
arms sidewise, the right palm turned upward ar1d the left down
ward. Like wblspered chant, the word Huwa - (that is,
God) - from their lips. Withthis softly breathed
bi& Iips, began to turn slowly his axis, swaying in
rhythm with the music that to from great dis
tance. threw back their closed their eyes, and
smootb rigidity spread over their faces. Faster and faster
the circling movement; the voluminous tunics rose and formed
wide circles around the spinning figures, making them resembIe
wblte, swirling eddies in sea; deep was the absorption in their
faces ... circling grew into whirling rotation, intoxica
tion and ecstasy rose visibIy in the In countless repeti
tions their half-open Iips murmured the word, . . . HUJva
.. ... ; their bodies wblrled and whirled, round and
round, and the music seemed to draw them into its
swirling, monotonous chords, monotonouslyascending-and
fe}t as if yourselfwere being drawn into an ascend
ing wbirlpool, steep, spiral, dizzying stairway, higher,bigher,
a1ways bigher, a1ways the steps, but a1ways higher, in ever
rising spirals, toward some unfathomabIe, ungraspabIe .end ...
. . . untiI the Jarge, friendJy hand which Vitelli placed .
your brought the whirling to standstill, and
the dizzy brought back from Scutari to the cool
ness of room in Cairo ...
Sign"ra ViteJli right, afterall. Her ministrations
heJped to maJaria OOut, if oot sooner, at least
as sooo as professiooal doctor could done. Within two
days J was almost free offever, the third 1 could
fIJ.y bed for comfortabIe 1was too exhausted
to of going aOOut, and bung heavily. or twice
teacher-student from AI-Azhar visited and brought
some books.
MIDWAY 197
t the whirling dervishes
of Scutari omehow bothered It had unexpectedly acquired
puzzling ignificancethat had not apparent in the original
esoteric rites of this religious order - of the
1 encountered in Muslirn countries - did not
to fit .nto the picture of Islam that was slowly forrning in
mind. 1 requested friend to bring some
talist work the subject; and, through them, instinctive
suspicion that esoterism of this kind had intruded into the Mus
orbit from non-Islamic sources was specula
tions of the as the Muslim mystics were called, betrayed
Gnostic, Indian and occasionally Christian influences
which had brought in asceticconcepts and practices entirelyalien
to the message of the Arabian Prophet. In his message,
was stressed as the only way to faith. While the validity of
mystical experience was not necessarily precluded in this
Islam was primarily intellectual and not
proposition. A1though, naturally enough, it produced strong
emotional attachment in i15 followers, Muhammad's teaching
did not accord emotion independent role in
ligious perceptions: for emotions, however profound, far
to swayed subjectiyedesires and fears than
500, with all i15 fallibility, could
'fT WAS IN SUCH bits and pieces, Mansur, that Islam
vealed itself to glirnpse and glimpse there, through
book, - slowly, with
out aware of it ...'
-2-
WE the Zayd starts to bake
bread. makes dough of coarse wheat water and
salt and shapes it into flat, round loaf about inch thick.
cJears hollow the sand, fills it \yith dry twigs and
sets fire to them; and when the after sudden burst, has
dieJ do\vn, places the loaf glo\ving embers, it
\y;th ashcs and lights mound t\vigs of it.
After 1- Jncoyers bread, tums it coyers it
before and Iights another fire it. another half hour the
198 ROAD
ready loaf isdug out the and slapped with stick to
tl1e remaining sand and ashes. We eat it with clarified
and dates. is bread delicious than this.
Mansur's hUIJSE:r, like Zayd's and satisfied, but
bis curiosity has not. As we lie around the to
with questions about how 1 finaHy Muslim
and while 1 try to it to him, it strikes with something
like astonishment, how difficult it is to put into words
way to
'- for, Islam like robber who
ters house night, steathily. without noise
that. unlike robber, it entered to remain for gQod. But it took
years 10 discover that 1 was to .. :
back days of second Middle East jour
ney - wheil Islambegan to mind in eamest - it
seems to t11at then 1was conscious of journey
of discovery. Every daynew impressions broke over
day new questions arose from within and new answers
from without. awakened of something that bad
bldden somewhere in the background of mind; and as 1
progressed in knowledge of Islam 1 felt, time and time again,
that truth 1 had always kno\\'n, without aware of it, was
gradtlal1y being uncovered and, as it were, confirmed.
summer of 19241started out from Cairo long
wandering which was to take part of two
almost two years 1 trekked through countries in the wisdom
oftheir traditions but eternally fresh in their effect mind. 1
travelled leisurely, with 10ng halts. 1 revisited Transjordan and
spent days with Abdullah, revelling in the warm
lity of beduin land wblch had not yet forced to adapt
its character stream of Western influences. this time
French visa been aqanged for the Frankfurter Zei
tung, 1 was able to see Syria Damascus and went.
Levantine liveliness of,Beirut embraced for short while
to Corgotten in the out-of-the-way sleepiness of Syrian
Tripoli with its air silent happiness. Small, old-fasbloned sail
ing ships were moorings in the open port, their
Latin masts creak.ing soft1y. low stools coffeehouse
the quay sat burghers Tripoli, relisb.ii1g their cof
and nargi/es in the afternoonsun. Everywhere and
QPPQSITE:
199
contentment and apparentlyenough to and the beggars
seemed to enjoy themselves in the wartn as if saying,
how good it is to beggar in Tripoli!'
1 to AJeppo. Hs streets aild buildings reminded of
JerusaJem: old stone houses that appeared to grown out
the soil, dark, arched passageways, silent squares and court
yards, windows. inner life of Aleppo, however, was
entireJy ditferent from that Jerusalem. dominant mood of
Jerusalem had the strange of confl.icting
tional currents, like painful, complicated to
\\'orld of contemplation and deep religious .emotion there had
brooded, like cloud poison, almost hatred
people and things. But Aleppo - although mixture of
and Levantine, with hint Turkey - was
and bouses with their stony and wooden 001
conies were alive in their stilIness. quiet industriousness
ofthe artisans in the ancient bazaar; thewurtyard$ ofthe
old with their arcades and loggias full of
goods; frugality togeth:=r with gay covetousness, both free
from the al1 hurry, restfulness which
the 5tranger and made that his owh life
rooted in restfulness: this flowed together in strong, win
ning melody.
From Aleppo 1 went to az-Zor, little town in
northernmost Syria, whence 1 proceed 10 Baghdad
the old caravan route parallel to the Euphrates; and it was
that journey that 1 first met
distinction from the Damascus-Baghdad route, which had
frequented cars for some the route a10ng the
phrates was then little known; in fact, only car had travel1ed
it before some months back. Armenian driver had
self ncver gone beyond Dayr az-Zor, but was confident that
could somehow find his way. Nevertheless, felt the nced of
more tangible information; and 50 we went together to the
bazaar in search of it.
bazaar street ran the whole length of Dayr az-Zor, whicr
was something cross between Syrian provincial town and
beduin metropolis, with accent the latter. Two world
there in strange familiarity. In the shops modem
badly printed picture postcards were being sold, while to :.
Author and North Amir
200 ROAD
few beduins were talking about the rainfal1s in the desert and
about the recent feuds between the Syrian tribe of Bishr-Anaza
and the Shammar ofIraq; ofthem mentioned the audacious
raid which the Najdi beduin chieftain, Faysal ad-Dawish, had
made short time ago into southern Iraq; and frequentIy the
of the Grand of Arabia, Ibn Saud, cropped
cient with long barrels and silver-inlaid butts
guns which nobody was buying more because t11e modern
repeating rifles were far rnore effective - Ied drf'.amy, dusty
existence between secondhand uniform tunics from three conti
nents, Najdi camel-saddles, Goodyear tyres, storm lanterns
from Leipzig and brown beduin cloaks from AI-Jawf.
Western goods, however, did not like intruders among
the old; their utility had given them natural place of their own.
With their wide-a\vake sense of reaIity, the beduins seemed to
take easily to these new things wblch but yesterday had
beyond their ken, and to make them their own without betra}ling
their old selves. inner stability, 1rnused, ought to give
the strength to bear the onrush of the new and, perhaps, not
to succurnb to it - for now it was coming close to these peopIe
who until recently had been so withdrawn and so hidden: but it
was hostile knocking their door; they received that
newness \vith innocent curiosity and fingered it, so to speak,
frorn sides, contempIating its possible usefulness. How little 1
realized then what Western 'newness' could do to the sirnple,
beduinf ...
As Annenian driver was rnak.ingenquiries frorn group of
beduins, 1 felt tug at sIeeve. 1 turned around. Before
stood austereIy handsome Arab in his early thirties.
'With thy permission, effendi,' said in sIow,
voice, '1 hear thou art going car to Baghdad and art not sure
of thy way. Let go with thee; 1 might of help.'
1 liked the at and asked him who was.
'1 zayd ibn Ghanim,' replied, '1 serve with the agaylin
Iraq.'
It was then that 1 observed the kIlaki colour ofhis ka!toll
and the seven-pointed star, of the Iraqi Desert Consta
bulary, his bIack iga/. kind of troops, oga}l among
Arabs, had already existed in Turkisll times: corps of \'olun
tary Ievies, recruited almost exclusively from Centra: Arabia
MIDWAY 201
to whom the deser.t steppe was and the dromedary
friend. Their adventurous bJood drove them from their austere
homeland out into wor1d in which there was
more movement, change between today and tomorrow.
to1d that had to Dayr az:-Zorwith ofbis .
offirers some business connected with the of
the Syro-Iraqi frontier. While the officer had since returned to
Iraq, had remained behind to attend to private matter;
and now would prefer to go with than to take the
more customary but circuitous route via Damascus. fraokly
admitted that had never yet travel1ed the way along the
Euphrates, and he knew as well as 1did that because of its
loops and turns we would not the river to guide us
added, 'desert is desert, the sun and the stars are the
and, insha-Allall, we shall find our way.' His grave se1f
confideoce pleased and 1 g1ad1y agreed to him a10ng.
Next morning we left Dayr az-Zor. great
Desert opened itse1fup to the wheels of our Model Ford:
unending plain of grave1,sometimes smooth aod level1ike as
pha1t and sometimes stretchiog io waves from to hori
zon. At times the Euphrates appeared to our left, muddy, quiet.
with 10w banks: siIent lake, you might think, until fast
.drifting piece of wood boat caught your and betrayed
the powerful current. It was roya1 river; it made
sound; it was not playfu1; it did not rush; it did not splash.
went. glided, widespread band, unfettered, choosing its sov
ereign in count1ess tums doWn. the imperoeptible incline of
the desert. equa1within equa1. proud within proud: for
the desert was as widespread and mighty and quiet as the nver.
Our new sat next to the driver with his
knees drawn up and leg dangling over the car door; his
glowed new boot of red leather which had
bought the day before in the bazaar of Dayr az-Zor.
Sometimes we met camel-riders who appeared. from nowhere
in the midst of the desert. stood still for moment and gazed
after the car, and again set their animals in motion and dis
appeared. They were obviously herdsmen; the sun had bumed
their faces deep Short halts ih 10nely, dilapidated
vanserais altemated with endless stretclles of desert. Eu
phrates had disappeared beyond the hor1zon. Sand hard-b!own
202 ROAD
the wind, wide patches of gravel, here and few tufts of
grass thombush. right range of 10w hil1s, naked
and fissured, crumbIing under thcs bot sun, grew suddenIy and
concealed the endlessness ofthe 'What could there
yond that narrow range of asked oneself in wonder
And although knew that the same level hilly desert
beyond, the same salld and the same hard pebbIes offered
their virgin rigidity to the sun, breath of unexplained mystery
was in the air: 'What couldthere atmosphere was with
out artswer or the vibrating quiet of the afternoon knew
sound but the drone of our engine and tbe swish of over
gravel. Did the rim of the world drop there into primeva1
abyss? Because 1did not know, the unknown was there; and
1 would perhaps never to know, it was the unknow
unknown.
In the afternoon our dri"'et discovered that the last caravan
forgotten take in water for his engine. river
was far away; there well i'or miles around;
about tO.thewavy horizon, brooded empty, white-hot,
chalky plain; soft, hot wind played over it, from
where and going no\vhere, without beginning and without
end, muffled out of eternity itself.
driver, casua1like &11 Levantines quality which 1 used
to appreciate in them - but just then), said: well,
so we shall reach the next caravanserai.'
But it looked as if we might not reach it so'. sun
was bIazing, the water bubbled in the radiator as in tea kettle.
Again we met herdsmen. Water? No, for fifteen
hours.
'And what do drink?' asked the Armenian in exaspera
tion.
laughed. 'We drink camels' milk.' won
dered in their hearts at these rid.iculous people in the fast-moving
devi1's cart, asking about water - while every beduin child
could told them that there was water in these
Unpleasant prospect: to rernain stuck here in the desert with
engine fai1ure, without water food, and to wait until another
car our way - perhaps tomorrow or the day after to
- or perhaps next month ...
In time the driver 10st his smiling insouciance. stopped the
MlDWAY 203
and lifted the radiatot white, thick jet of steam hissed
into the air. 1had some water in thermos and sacrificed it to
. the god of the engine. Armenian added little to it, and
brave Ford carried us for while.
'1 think we might find water there to our right,' said
timist. hills Iook so green - there to befresh grass
there: and where grass grows at this time of when there are
rains, there must water. And if there is water there, why
shouldn't we drive and fetch it l'
Logic has always something i.rresistible it; and so it was
although the Armenian's logic seemed walk
We left the path and rattled few miles toward the
hills: water ... slopes were covered not with grass but
with greenish stones.
hissing sound in the motor, the pistons beat
hoarsely, smoke was escaping in grey wisps from the slits of the
hood. few minutes something would craek:. break
in the eraI1kshaft or similar nicety. But this time we had strayed
far from the caravan route; if anything happencd now, we \vould
sit hopelessly in this desolation. Almost our cntire of oil
had flowed into the radiator. Armenian had hysteri
cal; was 'looking for water', driving to the left, theri to the
right, making turns and twists like performer in circus
but the water refused to materialize, and the hottle of cognac
which 1 yielded with sigh did not do good to the hot
radiator, apart from enveloping us in cloud alcoholie vapotir
which made Zayd (who, eourse, never drank) almost vomit.
last experiment drove him from the le.thargy in
wblch had 10st for so long. With angry movementhe
his lower down over his eyes, Ieaned out over the
hot rim of the ear and started looking about de5crt plain
looking with the precise, careful concentration 50 peculiar to
people who live mueh in the and are accustomed to re!y 01'
their senses. We waited anxiously, without mUCll hopeL..
had told us had never before i11 this part of
country. But pointed with hand to\vard north saiJ:

word Iik.e eommand; the driver, glad to ha\'c
body to him obeyed at With
painful panting ofthe drove northward. But suddenly
204 ROAD
zayd raiSedbimse1f little, put hand the driver's and
bade stop. For while sat with his head bent foreward,like
scenting retriever; around his compressed 1ips there quivered
small, hardly perceptible tension.
'No - drive there!' exc1aimed, and pointed to northeast.
'Fast!' And the driver obeyed wjthout word. After
couple of minutes, 'Stop!' and Zayd jumped light1y out of the
gathered his long cloak in hands and straight
ahead, stopped, tumed around several times as if searcblng
intently listening - for 10ng 1forgot the and
p1ight,so captivated was 1 the sight of strainiIig all
hisnerVes to orientate blmself in nature ... And of sudden
started off with long leaps and disappeared il1 hollow 00
tween two mounds. moment later his reappeared and his
hands waved:
'Water!'
We ranto hirn - and there it was: jn hollow protected
the sun overhanging rocks glittered 1itt1e pool ofwater,
of the 1ast winter rains, yel1ow-brown, muddy, but
the1ess water, water! Some incomprehensible desert instinct had
betrayed its presence to the from Najd ...
And while the and 1scooped it into empty gaso1ine
and it to the much-abused engine, zayd stro11OO smil
ingly, sHent and down the side of the
NOON OF day we reacMd the first Iraqi
village- the Euphrates - and for hours between its
palm orchards and mud walls. agay/ were there, most of
them, as Zayd told of his own tribe. the shade of
trees they strode among sleek horses which sun and green
fi1tered 1ight were reflected: kings fuH of grace and condescen
sion. TQ some of them zayd nodded in passing, and his 10ng,
black tresses shook both sides of bls face. In spite of his hard
life in desert and burning heat, was so sensitive that during
our fast progress over vi1lage roads wound his headc10th
around his mouth in order to avoid s\vallowing dust - the dust
which did not bother even ltS pampered to\vnspeop1e. When we
again rode over pebbles aHd there was longer dust,
swept his kufiyya back with movement of a1most girlish grace
MIDWAY 205
and began to sing: suddenly his mouth and sang, with
the suddenness of wall precipitously jutting out of
plain. It was Najdi qasida, kind of ode - swaying of long
drawn-out tunes in unchanging rhythm, flowing, like the
descrt wind, from nowhere into nowhere.
In the next village requested the driver to stop, jumped out
of the thanked for the lift, slung his rifle his and
disappeared between the palms: and in the there remained
scent that had - the scent of humanity entirely round
ed in itself, the vibrating remembrance of long-forgotten,
never-forgotten innocence of the spirit.
that day at 1 did not think 1 would ever see l.ayd
again: it happened ...
FOLLOWING DA 1 arrived at little town
the Euphrates, the point where the old road from
to Baghdad emerges from the desert. Crowning the top
of with its walls and bastions, the town resembled
cient, half-forgotten fortress. No was visible in around it.
outer houses seemed to grown into the there
were windows in them, only few slits, like loopholes.
minaret rose from the interior of the town.
1 stopped for the night in the river bank.
While supper was being prepared for the driver .and myself, 1
went to wash hands and face at the well in the courtyard. As
1 was crouehing the ground, someone took the long-spouted
water that 1had put down. and gently poured water
hands. 1 looked - and saw before heavy-boned, dark
visaged with fur his head; unasked, was assist
ing in washing. was obviously not Y/hen 1
asked was, answered in broken Arabic: '1
Tatar, from Azarbaijan.' had warm, doglike eyes and his
one-time military tunic \Vas aImost in shreds.
1 started conversing \vith partly in and partly in
the odds and bits of Persian 1had managed to pick from
Iranian student in Cairo. It transpired that the Tatar's
\vas Ibrahim. Most of his life:- was now nearly forty - had
spent Iranian roads; for years had dri\'en freight
\vagons from Tabriz to from Meshhed to Birjand, from
206 ROAD
to Isfahan and Sblraz, and at time bad calIed team
of horses bls own; had served in the mounted
Iranian gendarmerie, personal 1JOdyguard to Turkoman
chieftain, and as stable in the caravanserais of
and now, to Iraq mule driver in caravan of
Iranian' pilgrirns bound for Karbala, had 105t job after
quarrel witbthe leader of the caravan and was 5tranded in
foreign country.
Later that mght 1 lay down to sleep wooden in the
palm-studde.d courtyard of the caravanserai. Sultry hcat and
clouds of and thick from sucking human
blood. few threw their sad, dim light into the dark
Some horses, belonging perhaps to the landlord, were
tethered of the walls. Jbrahim, the Tatar, was brushing
of them; the way handled it could see that
not only knew horses but lovcd them; bis fingers stroked the
shaggy as lover migfit mistress.
idea suddenly to mind. 1was way to Jran,
and 10ng months of travel horseback ahead of
not take this al0ng? seemed to good and quiet
and 1 would surely nced Hke \vho kne\v almost
road in Iran and was at caravanscrai.
When 1suggested next morning that I might him as
servant, almost wept with gratitude and said to in
sian:
you will never regret it .. .'
WAS .NOON OF fifth day ot" the journey from
Aleppo wheh 1 caught first view of the widcspread of
Baghdad. From between the crowns ofmyriads of ms shone
gi1ded mosque cupola and tal! ininaret. both sides of the
road lay vasf, graveyard with crumbIing tombstones,
grey and and forsaken. Fine, grey dust hovered motion
less Qver it; and in the hard light of the noon this dusty greyness
was like si1ver-embroidered gauze - misty partition
tween dead world of the past and the living present. $0 it
should always 1 thought to myself, when
city pa5t has 50 entirely different its prescnt
that the'inind cannot encompass the difference ...
MIDWAY 207
And then we dived into the midst of the palms - miJe after
mile of enorrnous tree trunks and curving fronds - until suddenly
the palm grovcs stopped short at the steep bank of the Tigris.
This was unlike thc Euphrates: muddy-green, and
gurgling -like exotic stran.ger after thc si1ent, royal flow of
that other river. when we crossed it over s\vaying
bridge, the fiery heat of the Persian Gulf closed over us.
Of its magnificence and splendour nothing remained in
Baghdad. invasions ofthe Middle Ages had destroy
ed the city so thoroughly that notl1ing was left to remind of
the old capital of ar-Rashid. Whatremained was dreary
city of haphazardly brick dweIlings - temporary
it would almost seem, in anticipation of possiblp.
change. Indced. such change was already under way in the
of ne\v political reality. city had begun to stir, new
buildings \vere coming of sleepy Turkish provincial
headquarters metropolis \vas slowly emerging.
immense heat impressed its sign every and
made :111 movement sluggish. people walked slowly through
the streets. seemed to of bIood, without gaiety
and withotlt grace. Their faces looked sombre and unfriendly
under headctoths; and
saw handsome face with expression of
self-sufficient dignity, there was almost invariabIy red red
and-white ku.fiyyo over it - which mearit that the was not
from but from the north, or from the Syrian Desert,
Central
But great strength was in these the stre:tgth
of hatred ,- hatred of foreign power that denkd them their
freedom. people of Baghdad had always obsessed
longing for as demon. Perhaps it was this der.1On
so sombrely overshadowed tl1eirfaces. Perhaps tl1ese faces
wore quite different look when they with their own kin in
the narrow side lanes and \valled courtyards of thetown. For, if
100ked cJoseJyat them. they were not entirely without
charrn. could occasionaJly laugh as other Arabs did.
would sobletimes, like other Arabs, trail the trains of their
cJoaks \vith aristocratic nonchalance in the dust behind them, as
if they were wa!king the tesselJated floors of pa]aces..
let their stroll the streets iil co]ourfu] brocade
ROAD
wraps: precious, women in blue-silver and
bordeaux-red - groups of brocaded figures gilding slowly
noiseless feet ...
FEW WEEKS AFTER arrival in Baghdad, as 1 was
through the Great Bazaar, shout reverberated from
one of the dusky, barrel-roofed passageways. From around
comer then another, and third; and the people
in the bazaar started to run as if gripped terror of wblch
they, but not 1, knew the reason. ofhorses' hooves: rider
with terrified face galloped into the crowd, which broke before
him. running people, coming from one direction and
carrying the shoppers in the bazaar along with them. Injolts and
jerks, the whole throng began to press forward. Shopkeepers
placed with frantic hurry wooden planks before their shops.
Nobody spoke. No one called out to another. Qnly off and
011 you could hear the cries of people; child wailed
piercingly . . .
What has happened? No answer. Pale faces everywhere.
heavy wagon, sti1l half loaded with bales, rushed driverless with
galloping"horses through the narrow lane. Somewhere in the dis
tance rnound earthenware vesselscrashed down, andI could
di'stinctly the sherds rolling tbeground. Apart from
these isolated sounds and the tramping and panting of the
ple, there was deep,' tense silence, such as sometimes occurs at
the of earthquake. Qnly the clattering steps of run
ning feet; sometimes the of wornan child out of
the pressing, flowing rnass. Again riders. fl.ight, and
silence. mad confusion at the crossings of the covered streets.
Caught in the throng at one of these crossings, 1 could not
forivard or backward, and indeed did not knowwhere to
go. At that moment 1felt sorneone grasp and there was
Zayd, pulling toward and behind barrier ofbarrels
t\veen two shops.
'Don't budge,' whispered.
Sornetblng whizzed - rifle bullet?Impossible ...
From far away, somewhere deep in the bazaar, the muf
fled roar of manyvoices. something whizzed and whined.
and this time there was possibility of mistaking it: it wa.r
MIDWAY 209
bullet ... In the distance faint, rattling sound, as if somebody
were scattering dry peas over hard floor. It slowly approached
and grew in volume, that regular, repeated rattJing: and then 1
recognized it: machine guns ...
again, as so times before, Baghdad had risen in
volt. the preceding day, the twenty-ninth of 1924, the
Iraqi parliament had ratified, against the popular wiIl,
Treaty Friendship \vith Britain; and now nation in
despair was trying to defend itself against the friendship of
great power ...
As 1 subsequently learned, entrances to the bazaar had
been sealed off British troops to suppress demonstration,
and people were ki1led that day indiscriminate cross
firing into the bazaar. Had it not been for Zayd, 1 would prob
have run straight into the machine-gun fire.
That was the real beginning our friendsblp. zayd's world
wise, retieent manliness appealed strongly to and he,on his
had quite obviously taken liking to the young European
who had so little prejudice il1 against the and their
manner living. told the simple story of his life: how
as hisfather before had gro\vn in the serviee ofthe rulers
Hai1, the ShammAr dynasty Ibn Rashid; and how, when
was conquered Ibn Saud in 1921 and the last amir the
House Ibn Rashid Ibn Saud's prisoner,
the Shammar tribe, and Zayd among them, left their homelands,
uncertain future to submission to new ruler. And
there was, wearing the seven-pointed star Iraq his igaJ
and pining the land his youth.
During the weeks sojourn in Iraq we saw lot
other, and remained in touch through the years that foIlowed. 1
wrote to occasionaIly, and onee twiee sent
small present purcbased in the Iranian or Afghan
bazaars; and every time would answer in bls clumsy, almost
i1legible scrawl, recalIing tbe days we had spent tQgether riding
along the banks the Euphrates or visiting the winged lions in
the ruins Babylon. Finally, when 1 to Arabia in 1927,1
asked to join which did in the fol1owing year.
ever sinee has companion, more comrade than
servant.
210
IN EARL TWENTJES automobiles were StiI1 COmpar
atively in Iran, and only few plied for hire between
the main centres. one wanted to leave the three or four trunk:
roads, one had to depend horse-driven vehicles; and even
these could not go everywhere, for there were parts of Iran
where roads existed at al1. For someone 1ike avid to meet
the people of the land their terms, travel horseback
was clearly indicated. And during 1a5t week in Baghdad,
assisted Ibrahim, 1attended every moming thehorse market
outside the city. After days negotiations, 1purchased horse
for myself and mule for Ibrahim. mount was beautiful
chestr\.utstaIlion 01" South-Iranian breed, while the mule - live
ly, obstinate animal with muscles like steel cables under grey
velvet skin - had obviously from Turkey; it would easily
apart from its rider, the large saddlebags in which 1was to
keep all persona1 necessities.
Riding horse and leading the mule the halter, Ibrahim
set out morning toward the last Iraqi the
Iranian frontier and terminus of branch line of the Baghdad
Railway; and 1 fol1owed two days later train, to meet
there.
We left Khaniqin and the Arabian world behind us. Before us
stood yellow hills, like sentinels against the blgher mountains:
the mountains ofthe Iranian plateau,'a new, waiting world.
frontier post was lonely little building topped faded, 18t
tered Bagin green, wblte and red with the symbol of the lion with
sword and rising sun. few customs officers in sloppy uniforms
and wblte slippers 011 their feet, black of and white of skin,
scanty luggage with something like friendly irony.
one of them addressed
'Everything is in order,janab-i-ali. Your graciousness is above
our Would you grant us favour of drinlcing glass of
tea with us l'
And whi1e 1 was still wondering at the old-fasbloned
of thcsc phrases, it oocurred to how different, in
spite of its words, the Persian language was from
the melodious, cultivated sweetness lay in it, and the
80ft, intonation its vowels sounded strangely 'Westem'
after hot consonant language of the Arabs.
We were not the only travellers; severa. canvas wagons,
MIDWAY
drawn four horses, were standing before the customs
house, and was were
cooking their food over campfires. seemed to have
given thought ofgoing ahead, despite the early of
aftemoon, and we, 1 do not remember why, decided to d9 the
same. We spent the night in the sleeping the ground
blankets.
In the early dawn the wagons and caravans move
toward the naked mountains; and we rode with them. As the
road mounted steadily, we soon outpaced slow-moving wag
ons and rode alone, deeper and deeper into the mountain
land of Kurds, land of the bIond herdsmen.
1 sa\" the first of them when, at turn of road, stepped
out of arustling hut made of branches and offered wordlessly
wooden bowl brimming with buttermi1k. was
haps seventeen years, barefoot, ragged, unwashed, with the
nants of felt 1lis tousled head. As 1drank the thin, light
salted and wonderfully milk, 1 saw rim of the
bowl the blue that were fixedly gazing There was
sometblng in of brittle, damp-sweet fogginess which
animals - primeval sleepiness, not yet quite
broken ...
In the afternoon we reached Kurdish tent vi11age that
softly tucked between sJopes. tents resembled those of
beduin half-nomads in Syria lraq: coarse black cloth goat
hair stretched over severa1 poles, with wal1s of straw matting.
stream was flowing its banks shaded groups ofwhite
poplars; rock over the water family of storks excitedly
clattered their beaks and beat their wings. in indigo
blue jacket was striding with lQng, light steps toward the tents;
out earth-bound nevertheless very loose movements
spoke old nomad woman wearing amaranth-red,
dress, with tal1 earthenware jar her shoulder, slowly
approacbed stream; her thigbs were clearly optlined against
the 50ft cloth of her v.rere and 1ikeviolin
strings. She down the water's edge and bent over
scoop water into ber jar; turban1ike headdress loose
and touched, like red streamof blood, the g1itteringsurface of
tbe water - but on1y for an instant, to taken and again
wound around bead with single, gliding gesture that still
212 ROAD
belonged, as it were, to her kneeling-down and was part of"the
same movement.
Somewhat later 1 sat the bank, in the of an old
and four young women. All four had the perfect and
naturalness born of life freedorn: beauty that was aware of it
se1fand yet was chaste; pride which knew hiding and yet was
hardly distinguishable shyness and humility. prettiest
among them bore the chirping bird-name (with the vowel
pronounced as in French). eritire forehead was covered,
down to the delicate brow, carmine-red scarf; eyelids
were tinted with from under the scarf protruded au
locks with little silver chains braided into them; at every
movement of the head they tinkled against the tender, concave
cheekline.
We enjo)ledthe conversation, although Persian was still
clumsy. (fhe Kurds have language of their own, but most
them also understand which is related to it.) were
shrewd, these Iittle who had never gone beyond the
vironment of their tribe and, of course, could neither read
write; they easi1y understood expressions and often
found the word for which 1 was groping and put it, with
matter-of-fact sureness, into mouth. 1 asked them about
their doings, and they answered enumerating the little
and yet so great things which fill the day of nomad woman:
grinding grain between two flat stones; baking bread in glowing
ashes; milking sheep; shaking curds in leather bags until thcy
tum to butter; spinning with hand spindlcs out of sheep's
wool; knotting carpets and weaving kilims in pattems almost as
old as their race; bearing children; and giving their restfut
ness and ...
Unchanging today, yesteI'day and tomorrow. For these
shepherds time exists, except the sequence of days, nights and
seasons. The night has made dark for sleep; the day is light
for the necessitiesof life; winter reveals itself in the growing cold
and the scarcity of pastures in the mountains: and so they wan- .
der with their flocks and tents down into the warm plains, into .
Mesopotamia and the Tigris; later, \vhen the summer grows
with its sultriness and hot winds, back into the mountains,
either here to another ptace within the traditionat grounds of
the tribe.
MIDWAY 213
'Don't you desi to in houses of stone 7' I asked
old who had hardly spoken word and had smilingly Hs
tened to talk. desire to fields of
own7'
oId shook his head sIowly: 'No ... if water stands
motionless in pooIs, it becomes stale, muddy and fou\; only
when it moves and flows does it remain clear ...'
IN receded into the past. For nearly
eigbteen months 1wandered through the length and breadth of
that strangest lands, Iran. I to know nation
combined in itself the wisdom of thirty centuries of culture and
the volatile unpredictability children; nation that could Iook
with Iazy irony at itself and that happened around it - and
moment Iater could tremble in wild, volcanic passions. 1enjoyeJ
cultured ease of the cities and sharp, exhilarating steppe
winds; 1slept in the castles of provinciaI governors with score
of servants at disposaI, and in half-ruined
where at nigbt hadto take to kill scorpions before
were stung them. 1 partook of whole. roasted sheep as
guest ofBakhtiari and Kashgai tribesmen. and ofturkeys stuffed
witll apricots in the dining rooms rich merchants; I watched
the abandonment and blood-intoxication of the festivaI of
listened to the tender verses sung to the
accompaniment of lute the heirs of Iran's ancient glories. 1
strolled under the poplars of Isfahan and admired the stalactite
precious faIence and gilded domes of its great
mosques. Persian almost as familiar to as Arabic. 1
beld converse with educated men in cities. soldiers and nomads,
traders inthe cabinet ministers and religiousleaders.
wandering dervishes and wise opium smokers in wayside taverns.
1 stayed in towns and and trekked through deserts and
perilous salt swamps, and 105t myself entirely in tlie timeless air
of that broken-down wonderland. 1 to know the lranian
and their and their thoughts alm05t as if 1 had been
among them: but this land and this complex and fas
cinating like old jewel that sparkles dimly tbrough multiple
facets, never clo5eto the g1ass-e::lear world of
the Arabs.
214
Foc over six months 1rode through the wi1d mountains and
steppes of Afghanistan: six months in world where the
which every carried were not meant for omament, and
wbere every word and step had to watched lcst bul1et
should singing through the air. Sometimes Ibrahim and 1
and ocCasional had to defend 1ivcs against
bandits, of whom Afghanistan was full in those days; but if it
happened to Friday, bandits held threat, they
sidered it shameful to and kil1 the day set aside for
worship the Lord. Kandahar, 1 narrowly missed
being shot 1 had inadvertently looked the
covered face of pretty village wornan working in the field;
while the Mongol vilJagers in the high gorges of the
Hindu-Kush - descendants ofthewarrior hosts of Jinghiz
- it was not regarded as unseem1y to let sleep the of
tbe hut side side with the host's \vife and
sisters. For weeks 1 was guest of of Af
ghanistan, in his capital, Kabul; forlong nights 1 disci.lssed with
his leamed the teachings ofthe and other nights
1 discussed with Pathan in their black tents how best to
circumvent areas engaged in intertribal warfare.
And with day of those two years in Iran and Afghanis
tan the certainty grew in that 1 was approaching some final
answer.
IT SO HAPPENED, Mansur, that the understanding
ofhow Muslims ]ived brought daily closer to better under
standing oflsJam. Islamwas always uppermost in mind .. :
It is time for the isl10 says Zayd, g1ancing at the night
sky.
We for thelast of the day, three of us
toward layd and Mansur stand side sideand 1 in
front ofthem,leading the congregationaJ prayer (for Prophet
has described every assembly of t\VO or as congregation).
1raise hands and begin, akbar - God alone is Great'
- and then recite, as uslims always do, apening of the
Koran:
ln God, the Most Grac;ous, the Dispenser
1/praise ;3due God the
MIDWAY 215
The Most Gracious, the Dispenser Grace.
Lord the Day
Thee do we worship,
And Thee do we beseech help.
Lead the rigllt way,
The those ;s Thy
Not }vho Thy wratll, those Jvho go
And 1 follow with the hundred and twelfth sura:
ln tl,e God, rlle Most Gracious, the Dispenser
Say: God is
Se/f-Su/.ficielll WI,om depends.
begers not, is begotten,
And rl,cre is naught that could /ikened Him.
There few things, if which bring so closeto
another as praying together. This, 1 believe, is true of every
ligion, bat particularly so ofJslam, which rests beliefthat
intermediary necessary, indeed possible, between
and God. absence of priesthood, clergy, of an
organized 'church' makes every Muslim that is truly
sharingin, and not merely attending, act of worship
when he prays in congregation. Since there sacraments in
Islam, every adult and sane Muslim perform anyreligious
function whatsoever, whether it Ieading congregation in
performing marriage conducting burial
service. None need 'ocdained' service of God: th'e
ligious teachers leaders ofthe cornmunity simple
who cnjoy (sometimes deserved and
times not) erudition in theology and religious law.
-3-
1 W DA \VN: but eyelids heavy \vith' sleep.
.. the wind glides \vith humming sound of
,the fnding night into tl1e rising day.
I 1gct to wash the from face. coid \vater is like
/ touch from landscapes - mountains covered with dark
streams tl13t and flow and always cemaincleat
_.. I sit l1aunchcs an,1 head back 50 ti1at myface
2J6 __
might 10ng remain wet; the wind strokes its wetness. strokes it
witb memory of all 10ng-past wintry
days ... of mountains and rushing waters .. of riding through
snow and gJistening whiteness .. the whiteness of that day
years ago when 1 rode over snow-covered Iranian
tains without pushing slowly forward. every step of the
horse sinking-down into snow and the next cJam
bering out of snow ...
At of that day, 1 we rested in village in
habited strange folk who resembled gypsies. or twelve
holes in the ground, with tow domes brushwood
and earth; gave the tonely settlement - it was in southeastem
Iran, in the province - the of city of
moles. Like underworld beings from fairy taJe, people crawled
out of the dark openings to wonder at the strangers. top
of the earthen domes sat young woman combing her
10ng, bIack, tousled hair; her olive-browri face was tumed with
closed eyes toward the sun, and she sang with 10w
voice song in some outlandish tongue. arm-rings jangled
around her wrists; wblch were narrow and strong like the fet
locks of wild animals in primeval forest.
warm numbed limbs, 1 drank tea and -lots of
it - with the gendarme who accompanied }brahirn and As1
remounted horse, drunk, and set out at gallop, the
whole wor\d lay suddenly wide and bcfore eyes
as never before; 1 saw its inner and felt beat of its
. pulse in the wblte loneliness and beheld tbat had hidden
from but moment ago; and 1 knew that all the answers are
but waiting for us whi1e we, poor fools, ask questions and wait
foc the secrets of God to tbemselves up to us: when they,
the while, are waiting for us to ourselves up to them ..
tableland opened and 1 spurred horse and
flew like ghost through crystalIine light, and the snow whirled
up the hooves of Jl1yhorse flew around like mantle
sparks,. and the hooves of horse thundered the ice of
frozen streams ...
I it must been then tl1at1 experienced, not yet fully
it myself, the opening - that grace of
wbic'ft: Father felix had spoken to long, long ago, when 1 was
starting out the joumeythat was destined to change whole
MIDWAY 217
the revelation of grace which tells you that are the
pected .. More than year was to elapse between that
mad ride over ice and snow and conversion to Islam; but
even then 1 without knowing it, straight as arrow
ward
AND NOW FACE is dry, and that Iranian winter day
of more than seven years ago falls back into the past. It falls
back - but not to disappear: for that pastis ofthis present.
breeze, breath of the morning that is to makes
the thornbushes shiver. stars beginning to pale. Zayd!
Mansur! Get up, get up! Let us rek.indJe the fire and
coffee- and then we shall saddle dromedaries and ride
through another day. through desert that waits for us with
arms.
Viff
JINNS
-1
SUN IS ABOUT When tig, black snake

suddenly s1ithersacross path: it isalmost as tblck

as child's and IODg. It stops and
its head in directiOR. With a1most reflex
movement, 1 slide down from the saddJe, carbine,
kneel and take aim - and at the sa.me moment 1 Mansur's
voice behind
'Don't shoot - ... !' - but 1 already pressed the
trigger; snake jerks, writhes and is dead.
Mansur's disapproving shouldst
not killed it ... anyhow, not the of for this
is time \vhen jinns out from ground often
assume shape of znake .. .'
1 laugh reply: Mansur, thou dost not be1ieve
those old wives' tales about jinns in the shape of snakes l'
'Of course 1 in jinns. Does not the Book of
tion them? As to the' shapes in which they sometimes to
us - 1 don't know ... 1 have assume the strang
est and most unexp,eeted of forms ...'
right, Mansur, 1think to myself, for, indeed, is it
50 farf<;:tched to that, apart from the beings which
senses there some that elude
tion? 18 it not kind of intellectual arrogance which
modem reject the possibility of life-forms other than those
\vhich observed measured existence of
jinns. \vhatever they proved 5cientific
neither disprove the possible existence of
living being$ whose biological laws so entirely different
from own thtlt outer senses establish contact \vith
them only IJndcr exceptional circumstances. Is it pos
sible that such occasional crossing ofpath5 between these
knowJ'l \\'orJds and ours gives rise to strange manifestations
218
29
man's;primitive fantasy hasintcJ1?ren:d as
and apparitions;?"
As dromedary.. with these questions
with tlie lm1fl.smiling disbelief wbose: has
made more thick-sk.inned thanare:peopJe alw,a.ys
lived c}oset'1' Zayd turns with serious countenance
towardme:'
isright, uncle. Thol1.shouldst not kilIed
the snake. manyyears back - \vhem.I; Ieft after Ibn
Saud had taken the town - 1 shot sna:ke Iike that one 011
way Iraq,lt:was aIsoat the time when thesun wassetting.
short while afterward, stopped
1 suddenly fClta leaden weight in legs'anda burning
head, and my;head began to like the waters,
and limbs 1ike fire, and 1couJd not stand upright and
to the ground empty sack, and everything
dark around 1donot know how Jong 1remained in that dark
ness, 1 that the end 1 stood again.
known stood to right and another myfeft,and they
le.d into great, dusky that was who walked
and down in excitement and taJked other. After
while 1 aware that two distinct as
before jU5tice. oJd smaH size was 5it
ting raised dai5 in the backgrotlnd; seemed to judge
chieftain, or something like that. And 1 knew tl:at 1
was the
'Someone said: killed himjust before shot
from bls rifle. ofthe opposing
did khow whom he was killing; andhe
the God when the triggcr." But those of the
accusing shouted : did not pronounce it!" - whereupon
the other party repeated, together, in chorus: did, did
praise the God!" - 50 it continued \vhile, back
forth, accusation defence, until end defending
party seemed to gain their point and thejudge in background
decided: did not know whom he was ki1ling. and he did
praise the God. Lead back!"
'And the two (nen who had brought the of judg
ment took the again, lcd back the
into great darkness J had and laid
220
gr.ound. I opened eyes - and saw between
few sacks ofgrain which had pi1ed both sides of and
over was stretched piece of tent clothto protect from
rays of sun. It seemed to early forenoon,and
panions had evidently made the distance 1 could see
our camels grazing the slopeof 1 wanted to raise
hand, but limbs were extremely weary. When my
companions bent his face over 1said, "Coffee ..." - for from
nearby Iheard the sound of the coffee friend jurnped
up: speaks, hespeaks! has to!" - and they brought
fresh, hot coffee. 1asked them, "Was 1unconscious the whole
night?" And thc;y answered, whole night? Full Cour days
thou didst budge! We always loaded thee like sack onto
of the camels, and unloaded thee again at night; and we
thought that we would have to thee here. But praise to
Him who gives and takes life, the Living who never dies ..."
'50 thou seest, uncle, one should not kil1 snake sun
set.'
And although half mind continues to smile at Zayd's
the other half seems sense the weaving of unseen
forces in the gathering dusk, an eerie commotion of sounds so
fine that the hardly grasp and breath of
in the air: and 1have faint feeling of regret at having shot
snake sunset . . .
-2
IN of our third day out of HaIl we. stop
water our camels at the weIls of Arja. in almost circular
valley enclosed between low t\VO wells, large and full
sweet water, lie in the centre of the of them is
property of the tribe - the western belongs to the
Harb, the eastem to the Mutayr. ground around them is as
bald as the palm of one's hand, for day around noon hun
dreds of camels and sheep are driven in from distant pastures to
watered here, and every little blade ofgrass wblch grows out of
the soil is nibbled away before it even take breath.
Aswe the valley is of animals, and ever-ncw
and herds appear from between the sun-drenched Around
the wells there js great crowding and commotioD, for it is not
an easy thing to satjsfy the thiFS1 of so animals. herds
JJNNS 221
draw the water in leather buckets 10ng
panying their work with chant to keep the multiple movements
for thebuckets big and, when filled with water, SO
heavy that hands needed to draw them out the depth.
From the weJl nearest us - the that belongs to the Mutayr
tribe - 1 the chant to tl1e camels:
Drink, spare 110 Ivoter,
Ivell is grace ond
Half the sing the first verse and the others the second,
repeating both several times in quick until the bucket
pears the rim the well; then the women take and
the water into leathem troughs. Scores camels press for
\vard, bellowing and snorting, quivering with excitement, crowd
ing around the not visibIy pacified the men's sooth
ing calls, Hu-oih ... and another pushes it5 long,
neck forward, bet\veen its companions, 50 as to
still its thirstas quickly as possible; there is rocking and
ing, swaying and thronging of light-brown and dark-brown,
and black-brown and honey-coloured bodies, and
the sharp, acrid smeJl animal sweat and urine fills the air. In
the meantime, the bucket has filled again, and the herds
draw it to the quick another couplet:
Nouglzt stil/ the t!lirst
God's grace ond tlze 'zerdsmol1's toil!
- and the spectacle of rushing water, drinking and slurping
and chanting starts again.
old standing the rim the wel1 raises his in
direction and calls out:
God give life, \\'ayfarers! Partake bounty!'
- whereupon several other disentangle tl1el11selves the
cro\vd around the wel1 and run to\vard us. of thcm takes
hold dromedary's halter and it kneel do\vn, so that
1 dismount in comfort. Quickly way is made
mals to the trough, and the women pour out \'/ater for them: for
and therefore have prior claim.
'Is-it not wonderful to behold,' muses zayd, 'how well these
222
Harb and Mutayr keeping their now, 50 soon after
they warring against other?' it is three
tl1e Mutayr were in against the
the his supporters.) 'Dost thou
uncle, the last lime we were How we
passed Arja in wide circle at night, not daring the
wells - not knowing \"'hcthcr friend was here ...
Zayd is to thc grcat bcduin of 1928-1929
thc culmination of wmch shook Ibn Saud's
kingdom to it5 foundations and, involved myselfin it.
WHEN CURTAIN ROSE in 1927, was reigning
in tbe vast realm of Saudi Ibn Saud'5 struggle
power \vas over. His rulc in Najd was 10nger
rival dynsaty. His and the Shammar country, and l1is,
too, wa5 tbe Hijaz after he had ousted the Sharifian dynasty in
1925. OutstaQding among the ",'arriors was that same
doutabIe beduin chicftain, Faysal ad-Dawish; who had caused
so much worry in years. Ad-Dawish had distin
guished hintself in the King'5 service andproved loyalty time
and time again: in 1921 he conquered the in 1924
he led daring raid into Iraq, wbere the Sharifian
the British, intrigued against Ibn Saud; in 1925
took Medina and played decisive in the conquest Jidda.
And now, in summer of 1927, he \vas resting his laurels in
settlement of Artawiyya, not from the frontier of
Iraq.
For tl1at had the almost
continuous beduin raids arising from tribal migrations jn
search of pastures and water; but in series of agreements
tween Ibn aHd the British - who were responsible for Iraq
as the Mandatory Power .- it had (lccided that obstacles
should placed in the way of sl1ch necessary migrations, and
that fortifications kind should erected ..-:ither side
of tbe Najd-Iraq the summer 1927, ho\vever, the
Iraqi government built and garrisoned fort in vicinity of
the frontier \ve!ls of and offi.cially its inten
tion to build other fortsalong the ripple ofuneasil1ess
through the tribes northern Najd. saw themselves
JINNS 223
tbreatened in thei!.very exist.eacc, a1t offfrOm the wells which
they wcre dependent. Saud protested against this
aggreements, to receive - months later -
answer from British High Commissioner in Iraq.
Faysa1 ad-Dawish, always of toId himself:
convenient for the King to start quarrel with the
British - but 1will dare it.' And in thelast days ofOctober, 1927,
set out at the head of his IkJ1I110l1, attacked and destroyed the
fort of giving quarter to its Iraqi garrison. British
aeroplanes appeared the reconnoitred the situation
and withdrew - against their habit - without dropping single
It would been easy for them to the raid
aetion to which they were entitled virtue of their treaties with
Ibn Saud) and then to settle the of the forts diplo
matic negotiations. But was the British-Iraqi government reaHy
interested in speedy, peaceful settlement of the dispute?
Deputations from the nothern Najdi tribes appeared before
Ibn Saud and pleaded for campaign against Iraq. Ibn Saud
energetically refused such declared Ad-Dawish
transgressor, and ordered the amir of HaI1 to keep close watch
over the regions. financial aHowances which the
was giving to rnost of the IkJl\van were ternporarily cut off
from the tribes under Ad-Dawish's control; and himseIf was
bidden to remain at Artawiyya and there await the judg
ment. lraqi government was officiallyinfohned of these
measures and notified that Ad-Dawish would punished
severely. At the sarne however, Ibn Saud demanded that in
the future the frontier treaties strictly observed Iraq.
llis new conflict could thus easily ironed out.
when matters had reached this point, the Bcitish High Commis
sioner let Ibn Saud that was sending out air squad
to chastise Ad-Dawish's Ik/lIvan (who had 10ng since
turned to their territory) and to them to obedience
toward /heir Since timc thcre was Dotelegraph at
Riyadh, Ibn Saud sent posthaste courier to Bahrain,
telegram was dispatched 10 Baghdad, pro1esting
the proposed measure and invoking the treaties which forbade
either party to pursue lawbreakers across the frontier. strcs
sed that had need of British 'assistallce' in enforcing 11:S
authority over Ad-Dawish; and, final1y, warned that British
224
air action Najdi territory would dangerous repcrcus
sions among the Ikhwan, who werea1ready.sufficiently
1he warnmg remained unheeded. Toward the end ofJanuary,
1928 - three after the Bisayyaincident - aBritish squad..
flew across the frontier and bombed Najdj territory, wreak
ing among Mutayri beduin encampments and indis
criminately killing women, children and cattle. the
northem /k/IK'On to for campaign of vengeance
against Iraq; and it was on1ythanks to Ibn Saud's great prestige
among the tribes that the movement was stopped in time and
to few minor frontier skirmishes.
In tbe the destroyed fort of Bisayya was quietly
built bythe British and two new forts were erected the Iraqi
side of the
AD-DAWISH, summoned to Riyadh, refused to
and justify action which, in his had been
undertaken in the own interest. Personal resentment
added to his bitterness. Faysal ad-Dawish, who had served
the 50 faithfully and 50 well. was on1y of
in spite of the large number of its inhabitants. was
more than overgrown village. His leadership had deci
sivein conquest ofHaU - the cousin, Ibn Mussaad,
and not had appointed of During the Hijaz
it was Ad-Dawish, who besieged Medina for
months and finally forced its surrender - but not had
made its passionate, frustrated urge for power gave
rest. saidto himself: 'Ibn Saud belongs to the tribe of
and 1 to the tribe of Mutayr. We are equal to another in
the nobility of our descent. Why should / admit to Ibn Saud's
superiority l'
Such reasoning has always the curse of Arabian history:
will admit that another is better than
one, other dissatisfied chieftains began to for
get how they owed to Ibn Saud. Among them was
ibn Bujad, shaykh of the powerful Atayba tribe and oinfr of
Ghatghat. of the largest Ik/IJVOn settlements in Najd: victor
of the of in 1918 against the forces of Sharif
ebnqueror of T&If and in 1924. Why had to
JJNNS 225
contentwith being than of Ghatghat ?Why bad
nothe, but of the made of
Why not at least appointed of Taif? 1ike
Faysal ad-Dawish, saw himself cheated ofwhat heconsidered
bls due; and since was Ad-Dawish's brother-in-Jaw, it
10gica! for thc two to make cause against
Saud.
the 1928, Saud calledacongress ofcbleftains
to \vith view to soIving these disputes.
Almost triballeaders except Ibn Bujad Ad-Dawish.
Adamant in their opposition, they declared Ibn Saud aheretic
had not made treaties with the infideJs introduced into
the lands the Arabs such instruments of the deviJ as
telephones, wireless sets and aeroplanes? as
sembIed Riyadh unanimously declared that such technical in
novations were not only permissible but most desirabIe the .
religious point of view since they increased the knowledgeand
strength the uslims; and that,on the authority of the
phet of Islam, treaties with uslim powers were equalJy
sirable if they brought freedom to Muslims.
But the two rebe1liouscbleftains continued their denunciations
and found ready of the simple lkhwo/l, who
did not possess sufficient knowledge to anything but the in
fluence of Satan in Ibn Saud's actions. His failure to
education to the lkhlvon and turn their religious fervour to
positiveends to bear its tragic fruit ...
steppes of Najd were now humming like
Mysterious emissaries rode fast dromedaries tribe to
tribe. CJandestine meetings of cbleftains took at remote
we11s. finally, the agitation against the burst out in
revolt, drawing in other tribes besides the Mutayr
and Atayba. was patient. tried to understanding.
sent :nessengers to the recaIcitrant tribaJ leaders and tried to
reason with them: but in vain. Central and northern
the scene of widespread guerilla warfare; the almost
verbial public security of the country vanished and complete
chaos reigned in Najd; bands of rebellkhlvan swept across it in
directions, attac!dng villages and caravans and tribes that had
remained Ioyal to the King.
After innumerabIe skirmishes between rebel and

tribes, decisive batt1ewas plain ofSibila, in
tral Najd, in the spring 1929. Orrone side was the with
large force; the other, tlie N1utayrand'the supported
Cactions from other tribes. was vietorious. Ibn Bu
jad surrendered unconditionally was: brought in chains to
Ad-Dawish was severelywoundedandsaid to dying.
Ibn Saud, mHdest Arabiankings, sent bls personal physi
cian to attend him - and thatdoctor,.a young Syrian, diagnosed
serious injury to the liver, giving week to
whereupon the decided: 'We shallletblm die in
received his punishment from God.' ordered that the
wounded brought back to.hisfamily 4t Artawiyya.
But Ad-Dawish was far fiom injury was not nearly
as serious as the young doctor had assumed; and within few
weeks was sufficientlyrecovered toslip away from Artawiyya,
than ever bent revenge.
ESCAPE gave new
petus to the rebeUion. It was rumoured that was
somewhere in the vicinity the Kuwayt frontier recruiting new
tribal aI1ies to bls still considerabIe. force Mutayr.
the first to join him \vere the Ajman, small but valiant
tribe living in the province AI-Hasa near the Persian Gulf;
their shaykh. Ibn Had.hlayn, was Faysal ad-Dawish's maternal
uncle. Apart from this, there was 10ve between lbn Saud
and the Ajman. Years they had slain the younger
brother Saad and, fearing bls revenge, had migrated to Kuwayt.
Subsequently Ibn Saud had forgiven them and them to
return to their aneestral territory, but the old resentment
tinued to rankle. It fiared up into enmity when, during
gotiations for settlement, the Ajman and several his
followers were treacherously murdered in the Ibn
Saud's relative, theeldest son of the am;r of Al-Hasa.
the Ajman with the Mutayr kindled new
spark among the Atayba tribes in central NaJd. After the capture
of their am;r, Ibn Bujad, they had reassembled under new
chieftain; and now they rose against the forc
him to divert most of his strength northem to central
Najd. fight was hard. but slowly Ibn Saud got the upper
JINNS
221
.hand. Group after group. heoverwhelmed the until. in
1he.cnd,they offered to Ln avillage half way between
Riyadhand their sltaykhsp1ed:ged fealty to the
and ithe "King again forgave tbem. hoping that at last would
hand against Ad-Dawi:sh andtherestof rebels in
the But hardly had returned to iRiyadhwhenthe
brdke:their pledge for the secondtime and renewed their war
fare.Now itwas fight the fi.nish. For third timethe
were defeated and almost decimated - and with the complete
,af the /kllltJQ/Z settlement town larger
than Riyadh,.the authority was re-establisbedin centraJ
Najd.
the struggle in tbe north continued. Faysa:Iad
Dawish and his allies werenow solidJy entrenched in the vicinity
of tlle border. Ibn the af attaeked them
and time bebalf of the T,vice it was reported that
Ad-Dawisb had kiHed; and botb times the tidinp provcd
false. lived stubbornly and uncompromisingly. eldest
son and seven bundred of his warriors feH in battle; but he
fought The question cropped Feom where does Ad
Dawish receive the in is necessary
waging war? From where his arms and
Vague reports current that the rebel, onee 50 bitterly
critical Saud's treaty relations witb the 'infidels', was now
himself treating with the Britis.h. Rumour bad it that was
frequent visitor in Kuwayt: cou1d doing this, asked
themselves, without the. knowledge of the British authorities?
Was it not that turmoil in the lands Saud
suited their own purpose too
ONE EVENING IN RIYADH, in the summcr of 1929, 1 had
gone to bed early al1d, before asleep, was diverting myself
with old book thedYl1asties ofOman
j
when Zayd abruptly
into room: .
is from the SIIUyukh. wantsto see tbee
at
1burriedly dressed and went to the Ibn Saud was await
ing in his private apartments, sitting cross-legged divan
with heaps Arabic newspapers aroundhim and from
228
cairo in his hands. greeting briefly and, with
out bis reading, motione.d bis side di
van. ;while looked g1an<:ed the slave who was
the door and indicated with hand
tbat wished left alone with As soon slave had
closed the door bebindhim. Iaid do\vn newspaper
and 100ked for while (rom behind bis glittering glasses.
as if had seen for long time (altbough 1 had spent
some with very morning).
with writing?'
No. Long-of-Age. 1 written anything weeks.'
were interesting articles thou \vritten about our
frontier problems with Iraq:
was evidently series of dispatches 1had
written for Continental newspapers about two months
lier; of them had also in newspaper in
where. 1 flatter myself, they helped to clarify very involved
situation. Knowing 1was certain that was speak
ing at random but had something definite in mind; and 50 1
mained silent, waiting for him to contin.ue. did continue:
'Perhaps thou wouldst like to write something about
what is happening in Najd - this rebellion and what it
There was trace passion in his voice as \Vent
Sbarifian farnily hates sons ofHusayn who
now rule in Iraq and Transjordan will always bate for they
forget that I have taken the Hijaz would
likemy realm to break up, then they could return to the
Hijaz ... and their friends, pretend friends as well,
rnight dislike it either ... did those forts Cor
nothing: they to cause troubte and to push away
from their frontiers .. .'
From behind Ibn Saud's \vords 1 couJd hear jumbJed, ghostly
sounds - the.ro\ling ru!:ltingof railroad trains \vhich, though
imaginary, might easily tomorrow: the spectre
of British railroad running from Haifa to Basra. Rumours of
such aplan had rampant for years. It was well known that
British were concerned about securing 'Jand route to In
dia': and this. indeed, \vas themeaning of their mandates ovet
Palestine, Transjordan Iraq. railroad from the Mediter
the Persian Gulfwould only form new, valuable
JlNNS 229
in imperial communications but would also affO'rd
greater protection to the oil pipeline that was to laid from
lraq across the Syrian Desert to Haifa. the other hand,
direct rail between Haifa and Basra would to
cut across Ibn Saud's northeastern provinces - and the King
would nevcr even entertain such suggestion. Was it not
sible that the building of forts along the Iraq-Najd frontier. in
fiagrant contravention the existing agreements, represented
the first stage of careful1o'J devised scheme to bring about
enough disturbance within this critical area to 'justify' the estab
lishment of small, semi-independent buffer state
to the British? Faysal ad-Dawish could serve this purpose
as weH' as, perhaps better than, member of Shari
family,Tor was Najdi himself and had strong foHow
ing among the Ikh,vaJl. That his alleged religious fanaticism
'mask was obvious to anyone acquainted with his past;
what reaHy wanted was power There was doubt
that, left to himself, could not haveheld out for so long
against Ibn Saud. But - had he been left to himself?
After 10ngpause, the continued: '1 been thinking,
as has, about the supplies arms and
that Ad-Dawish seems to at his disposal. has plenty ot'
them - and plenty of moncy, too, ithas been reported to 1
wonder whether thou wouldst not like to write about thesc
things - 1 those mysterious sources Ad-Dawish's sup
plieS.I have own suspicions about them; perhaps even
than slispicions - but 1 would like thee to find out for thyself
thou canst, for 1 wrong.'
So that was it. Although the spoke almost casually, in
conversational tone, it was obvious that he had weighed
word before uttered it. 1 100ked hard at His face,.so
grave momentbefore, brClke into broad smile. placed his
hand knee and shook it:
'1 want thee, son, to find out thyself 1 rcpcat:
thyself - from where Ad-Dawish is getting his rifles, his ammuni
tion and t.he is throwing about so lavishty. is,
hardJy any doubt in own mind, but 1wish that someone
thee, is directJy involved, would tell the world the
crooked truth Ad-Da\vish's rcbcllion ... 1 think thou
wilt to find out the Lrut}-,." '
230 ROAD
Saud knew what was doing. has always Icnown that
Ilove Although 1oftcn disagree with his policies, and never
make secret ofmydisagreement, has never withheld his
fidence from and often asks advice. trusts all the
1 believe, because is weU aware that 1do not expect
from and would not even accept post in his
government, for 1 want to remain free. And 50, that
able evening in the summer 1929, calmly suggested to
that 1should out and explore the web political intrigue
hind the rebellion - mission which probably entailed
personal risk and certainly could accomplished only at the
of strenuous
But the SI1Uyukh was not disappointed in reactions. Apart
from alfection for and bls country, the task wblch
now entrusted to seemed promise exciting adventure,
not to speak possibIe jOllrnaJistic
'Over eyes and head thy command, Long-of
1 immediately replied."[ shall certainly do what 1
'Ofthat 1 doubt, Muhammad; and 1 thee
keep tby mission secret. There danger in it - what
about thy wife?'
wife was girl from Riyadh whom 1 had married the
vious year; but 1 was able to assure the this point:
'Sbe will cry, Imam; it was only today that 1 was think
ing divorcing her. We do not seem to 5uit
Ibn Saud smiled knowingly, -divorcing wife was thing
not unfamiliar to what about other people -
folk?'
is 1believe, ,vho would mourn shollld anything
to - course, Zayd; but
in any and the things that befall wi1l him as
well.' .
'That is the replied the 'And. oh, before 1
forget: tholl wilt require some funds for undertaking' - and
slipping hand under the cushion behil1d drew out
purse and thrust if into hand; from its ,veight 1 immediateJy
guessed that it wa.c; filJed \vith golden sovereigns. 1 remember
thinking myself: certain must have been, even before
asked that 1 would accept his suggestion ... !
JINNS 231
IN I called zayd. who had been
awaiting retum.
'If 1should aSk thee, zayd, to enterprise
that might prove dangerous - wouldst thou go with
Zayd replied: 'Dost thou think, uncle, that 1 would
thee go alone, whatever the danger1 where we going?'
'We are going findout from \vhere Ad-Da\vish is getting
his and his But the insists that should
know what we doing until it has done; so thou mtlst
guard.'
Zayd did not bother to reassure but turned instead
to the more practical question:
'We can't weB ask Ad-Da.... ish his how then do
we set about it _
way back from the castle 1 had ruminating over
this problem. It appeared to that the best starting point
would of the cities of central Najd, where there were
merchants who had intimate connections with Iraq and
Kuwayt. Finally 1 settled Sllaqra, the capital of tbe
of Washm, about three days' journey from Riyadh, where
friend Abd ar-Rahrnan as-Siba'i might to
fol1owing day was occupied with preparations for our
pedition. As 1 did not want to attract too attention to
movements, 1 cautioned Zayd not to draw provisions, as was
customary with us, from the purchase
everything we needed from the bazaar. evening Zayd had
lected the necessary assortment of foodstuffs: aboutt\venty
pounds of rice, the amount of flour for bread, small skin
containing c]arified butter, date5, coffee had
also bought two new waterskin5, leather bucket and
rope long enough for very deep wells. We were a]ready well pro
vided with arm5 and ammunition. 1nto our saddJebags we stuf
fed two changes of clothing per each of us wore
heavy which, together with the blankets over our saddles,
would serve as covering nigbts. dromedaries, which
had spent several weeks pasture, were in excel1ent condition;
the 1 had recentIy given to Zayd was an extremcly fleet
Omani racer, whi1e 1 rode the beautifu] old thoro'Jgh
bred which had belonged to the Rashidi c7!11ir of Hai'1
and had presented to Ibn Saud.
232 ROAD
Mter nigbtfall we rode oUt Riyadh. dawn we reached
Wadi Hanifa, deep, barren river bed between steep hills - the
site of the decisive battle fought oYet thirtten hundred years ago
between the Muslim forces Abu Bakr, the Prophet's successor
of IsIam, those of the <faIse prophet', Mu
saylima; who for years had opposed the Muslims.
battle signalIed the victory ofIsIam in CentraI
of the Cornpanions of the Prophet in it, and their
graves are visible to this day the rocky sIopes of the wadi.
During the forenoon we passed the ruined of
Iarge, populous settlement, stretching along both ballks
ofWadi Hanifa. rows oftarnarisks Iay the remnants of
the past: broken-down house waI1s, with the crumbIing pilIars of
mosque or the ruin of palatiaI building rising here and there,
aII of them speaking of higher, more gracious style of architec
ture than that of the simple mud buildings sees in present
day Najd. lt is said that until about hundred and fifty or
two hundred years ago, the entire course of Wadi from
Dar'iyya (the capitaI of the Saud dynasty) to
- distance of over fifteen miles - was singIe city; and
that when son was to the amir of Dar'iyya, the news of
his passed along from rooftop to rooftop the women,
traveIled within minutes to the utmost end of story
ofAyayna's decay is so clouded Iegends that it is difficult to dis
the historicaI facts. Most probably the. town was destroyed
, the first Saudi ruler when it refused to the teachings of
Muhammad ibn Abd but Wahhabi Iegend has it
that, as sign ofGod's wrath, aII the weI1s of dried up in
singIe night, forcingthe inhabitants to abandon the city.
, At of the third day we sighted the mud waIls and bas
tions of Shaqra and the blgh palms wblch towered its
houses. We rode between empty orchards and through empty
streets; and then we remembered that it was Friday and
that must at the mosque. Offand we encountered
woman cloaked from head to too in bIack she would
start &t the sight of the strangers and draw her veil across her
face with &quick, shymovement. and there chi1dren played
in the shadow of the houses; soHd warmth was brooding over
the cro\VI1S of the pa1ms.
We went straight to the house of frieod Abd
JlNNS
Rahman as-Siba'i, who at that time was in charge the bayt al
mal, treasury, of the province. We dismounted before the
gate and Zayd called into the courtyard, waladf -'0
- and as servant running out the house,
Zayd announced: 'Guests
While Zayd and the busied themselves with
the dromedaries in the courtyard, 1made myself at in
ar-Rahman's qaJlwa, where another servant immediately lit
fire under the brass pots the coffee hearth. Hardly had 1
drunk the first sip when voices audible from the
yard - questions and answers rang out: the master of the house
had retumed. Already from the staircase,. still invisible,'
shouted his greetiRg of welcome to and appeared in the
doorway with arms: delicate little with short,light
brown beard and pair of deep-set, humorous eyes in smiling
spite ofthe heat wore 10ng under hls
coat was ofhis most treasured possessions. never
tired of telling everyone who was not already aware ofits history
that it had belonged to the former IGng of the
SharifHusayn, and had fallen into Abd ar-Rahrnan's, hands
at the conquest of in 1924. 1 cannot ever
seen without that coat.
embraced warmly and, standing his toes, kissed
both cheeks: wasablan wa-marhaba! Welcome to this
lowly house, brother. Lucky is the that brings

And then the usual questions: Whence, and whereto,
and how is the IGng, and was there rain the way - didst
tbou at least of rains? - the whole traditional exchange
news. 1 told him that in Najd, was
destination - wblch was not quite true cou1dwel1
ear1ier years arRahman had engaged in exten
sive trade between Najd and Iraq was thoroughly familiar
with both Basra and Kuwayt. It was not difficult to get him to
ta1k of those places and sound out about. who
might recently arrived from there (for it seemed to that
with Faysal ad-Dawish being reported so near the border of
wayt, either that place Basra might furnish some indication
as to hissource of supp1ies). 1leamed that the well
known AI-Bassam family of - old acquaintance of
234 R.OAD
mine - had recently visited Kuwayt the way back from
and, not wanting expose himself to the hazards jour
through rebel-infested territory. had returned via to
Najd. was in Shaqra at and if 1 wanted, Abd
Rahman would send for for, in accordance with ancient
Arabian custom, it is for the new arrival visitedrather than
to visits. Soon afterward, Abdullah al-Bassam joined us in
Abd ar-Rahman's
Abdullah, although belonging to perhaps the most important
family of businessmen in Najd, was not himself
His had full ofups and downs - mostly downs -
not only in Najd also in Cairo, Baghdad, Basra, Ku
wayt, and knew everybody who was
body in those places, and carried in his shrewd head store of
formation about everything tbat was going in .'\rab countries.
1 told that 1 had asked business firm to
explore the possibilities of importing agricultural into
and Basra; and since 1had been offered fat commis
sion firm, 1 was anxious to find out which of the local.
merchants in those two towns were likely entertain such
position. AI-Bassam mentioned several and then added:
'1 sure that of the Kuwayti people will interested
in thy project. are always importing from abroad,
and nowadays trade seems to quite lively - 50 lively that large
consignments of silver riyals arriving almost day
directly from mint at Trieste.'
The mention of the silver riyals jolt. particular
. kind of riyal, Maria Theresa thaler, constituted. side side
with the official Arabian currencies, the chief commercial coin
of the entire It was minted at Trieste and sold
its silver plus small minting charge to the
governments and also to few outstanding merchants with large
trade interests among the beduitis; for the beduins were averse
to accepting paper and took on1ygoid or silver -prefer
ably Maria thalers. Large imports ofthese Ku
wayti traders to indicate that brjsk business was going
and beduins.
'Why.' 1 asked' 'should Kuwayti merchants im
riyals just no\v?'
'1 do not kno\v,' he rep ied. \vith trace of perplexity in his
JlNNS 235
talk buying meat-camels from beduins Ku
wayt sale in lraq. where the blgh nowadays; though
1 do not quite see how they to find camels in the
steppes Kuwayt in these disturbed tirnes ... 1 should
rather added with Iaugh, 'that it would
profitabIe to buy riding-camels in Iraq and to sell them to Ad
Dawish and his - course, Ad-Dawish wouId not
have the to for them .. .'
Would indeed?
night, before going to bed in the room assigned to us
our host, 1 drew zayd into and told
'We are going to Kuwayt.'
'It will not easy, uncle,' replied zayd; but the gleam
in hiseyes spoke eloquently than hiswords hisreadiness
to embark something that was not only noteasy but extremeIy
dangerous. It would, course, child's play to travel across
territory controlled forces and tribes loyal to the but
for at least hundred miles so before reacblng the borders
Kuwayt we wouId entirely our own in the midst hos
tile territory through wblch the rebellious Mutayr and Ajman
tribesmen were roaming. We could, course, travel to Kuwayt
sea via Bahrain, but that would require permit from the
British authorities and thus our movements to the
closest scrutiny. same objection would apply to travelling
via AI-Jawf and thc Syrian Desert into Iraq, and thence to
wayt; for it would too optimistic to suppose that we could
slip through the control points in Iraq. There remained,
therefore, nothing but the direct overland route to Kuwayt. How
penetrate undetected into the town itseJf was question that
could not easily answered at present; and so we left it to the
future, trusting in our luck and hoping for unforeseen oppor
tunities.
Abd ar-Rahman as-Siba'i wanted to stay with for
some days, but when 1 pJeaded urgent business, let us go
next morning, after augmenting our food supply quantity of
dried camel-meat - de1icious addition to monoton
ous fare ahead of us. aJso insisted that 1 should visit him
returnjourney, to which, in truth, 1could only ans\ver, 1115110
Allall - 'God \villing.' .
236 ROAD
SHAQRA WE TRAVELLED Cor Cour days toward north
east without encountering unusual. occasion
wewere stopped detachment loyal Awazim beduins who
Conned part Qf Amir Ibn Musaad's Corces; but letter
Crom the King put them rest and, after the
customary desert tidings, we continued our way.
BeCore dawn fiftb day we approached region over
wblch Ibn Saud's longer extended. From now day
travel was out of the question; our on1y saCety in darkness
and stealth.
We made in not far from the
course the great Wadi ar-Rumma, ancient, dry river bed
tbat runs across northem Arabia toward the head ofthe Persian
Gulf. guUeywas thickly overhung with arfaj bushes, wblch
woulc1 afford us some cover as long as we kept close to the al
most vertical bank. We hobbled our camels securely, fedthem
mixture coarse barley flour and date kemels - thus obviating
the necessity ofletting them out to pasture - and settled" down to
await the nightfaU. We did not dare light fire, for in day
its smokemight us; and 50 we had to content
selves with meal dates and water.
How sound our precautions were evident in the late
temoon, when the strains beduin riding-chant suddenly
struck our We took hold our muzzles to prevent
them from snorting or bellowing, and pressed ourselves, in
hand, flat against the protecting waU the gul1ey.
chanting grew louder asthe unknown riders approached;
we could already discem the words, La ilaha i/J' ilaha
- is God but God, is God but God'
- the substitute Cor the more worldy travel chants
'unreCormed' beduins. was doubt tbat these were
Ikhwan, and in this they could on1y hostile lkhwan. After
while they appeared over the crest hillock, just above the
the gulley - group eight or ten camel..riders slowly
advancing in single file, sharply outlined against the aftemoon
sky, oCthem wearing the white lkhl'lan turban over his red
and-wblte-checked kufiyya, two bandoliers across the chest and
rifle slung the saddle-peg behind him: sombre and for
bidding cavalcade, swaying forward and backward, forward and
backward, in rhythm with the gait the dromedaries and the
JlNNS 237
great but now so misused words, i/aha i//'A//ah ..
sight was impressive and time pathetic. were
whom thpir faith obviously anything
else in thought were fighting for its purity and for
greater glory of God, knowing their fervour and
their longing had hamessed the ambitions an unscru
pulous leader in quest of personal power ...
were 'right' side of gulley as far as we were
concerned: for had riding the opposite side, they
would seen us as plainly as we could now see them from
beneath the protective overhang of bushes. When, with the
lilt of their lips, they disappeared from view down
the wesighed with relief.
like jinns,' Z;iyd. 'Yes, like the jinns who
know neitherjoy oflife norfear ofdeath ... are braveand
strong in faith, deny that - but they dream about
is and death and Paradise ...'
as if in defiance of lkllwan's gloomy puritanism,
began to sing, worldly Syrian love song: '0
maiden of golden-brown flesh .. .'
As soon as it was quite dark, we resumed our surreptitious
march in the direction of distant Kuwayt.
'LOOK UNCLE!' Zayd suddenly exclaimed.
fire!'
It was too small for beduin encamprnent; lonely
herdsman, perhaps? But wbat herdsman would dare light fire
here unless were the rebels? Still, it would better to
If it was only we could easily take care of hirn
also, possibIy, gather some precious infonnation about
enemy movements in the area.
soil was sandy and the feet our camels made almost
nojse as we cautiously approached the fire. In its light we could
now make o\1t the crouching figure of solitary. beduin.
seemed to peering into the darkness in our direction, and then
as if satisfied with what had seen, rose without hurry,
crossed llis his chest - perhaps to indicate that was
unarmed - and calmly, without the least appearance fright,
awaited our coming.
238
"Who art thou Zayd called out sharply. his rifle pointed at
the ragged stranger.
beduin smiled slowly and answeted in sonorous
voice: "1 Sulubbi ....
reason for his calm now obvious. strange.
gypsy-Jike tribe (or rather group to which belonged
had never taken part mArabia's almost unceasing war
fare; enemies to they were attacked
Sulubba (sing., Sulubbi) have to this day
enigrna to explorers. Nobody reaHy knows their origin. Tbat
they not is certain: their eyes and light-brown
hair belie their sunbumed skins and memory of northem
regions. ancient Arab historian.; teH us that tbey descen
dants of crusaders who had taken prisoner Saladin and
brought to Arabia, where they later Muslims; and, in
deed, the Sulubba has the same root as the word sa/ib, that
is, 'cross', and salibi, whicb means Whether this
planation is correct is difficult to In case, the beduins
regard the Sulubba as non-Arabs and treat them with something
like tolerant contempt. explain this contempt, wblch
trasts sharply with the Arab's otherwise so pronounced sense of
equality, asserting that these people are
conviction and do not Iive Iike Mus1ims. point
out that the Sulubba do not but 'promiscuous Iikc
without consideration even of close blood relationship,
they eat carrion, which Muslims consider unclean. But
this rationalization. 1 rather inclined to
think that it was the awareness of the Sulubba's racial strange
ness that caused the race-conscious beduin to draw
magic circle of contempt around them - instinctive defence
against blood mixture, which have very tempting in
the case of the Sulubba: they almost without exception,
beautiful people. taHer than O1ost of the Arabs and of great
regu]arity of features; the wo01en, especially, are very lovely, fulJ
of elusive grace of body and movement.
But \vhatever the cause, the beduin's contempt for the Sulub
has made their life secure: for who attacks or harms
them is deemed bls kinsfolk to have forfeited his bonour.
Apart from this, the Su1ubba highly esteemed desert
dweHers as vete .inarians, saddle-makers. tinkers and smiths.
IINNS 239
beduin, though despising handicraft much to
it blmse]f, is in need ofit, and SulJubba are there
help in bls They a]so efficient and,
al1, unquestioned masters in the of hunting.
ability read is ]egendary, and
who compare with them in this respect the
beduins northern fringes of the Empty Quarter.
Relieved at finding that our new acquaintance was Sulubbi,
1 told him frankly that we were Ibn Saud's - which was
quite safe in view the respect which these people have for
authority,- and requested his fire. done,
we settled the ground for lengthy conversation.
could not us much about the disposition of Ad
Dawish's forces, 'for,' said, 'they always the move,like .
jinns, never resting at place for long'. It transpired, however,
that large of hostile lkhlvan happened to in
immediate vicinity now, although small parties were
constantly crossing the desert in directions.
An idea suddenly struck might wenot utilize the Sulubbi's
instinct for hunting and pathfinding lead us to Kuwayt?
thou ever to Kuwayt 1 asked
Sulubbi laughed. times. 1 have sold gazeUe skins
there and clarified butter and wool. Why, it is ten
days since 1 retumed from there.'
thou cou]dst guide us to Kuwayt? - 1
guide us in such manner to avoid meeting lkhlvan
way1'
. For few moments the Sulubbi pondered over tills question;
then replied hesitantly: '1 might, but it would dangerous
for to becaught the {kl1lvan in thy company. 1 might,
though, but ... but it wou]d cost ]ot.' .
'How much 1'
'Well .. .' - and 1 could discern tremor of greed in his
voice 'well, master, ifthou wouldst give me'one hundred
riya/s, 1 might guide thee and thy friend to Kuwayt in such
manner that but the birds of the sky would set eyes
One hundred riya/s was equivalent ten sovereigns - ridic
uiously small sum considering what it would mean to but
.the SuJubbi had probably never in his held cash in
his hands.
240 ROAD
'1 shall give thee hundred - twenty now and the rest
after we Kuwayt.'
prospective guide had obviously not expected his demand
to so readily granted. Perhaps regrettcd that had set
his price higher, afterthought, added:
'But what about dromedary? IfI ride with Kuwayt
and then back, the beast worn out entirely, and 1
have .. :
Not wishing to prolong the negotiations, 1 promptly replied:
'1 shall thy dromedary. shalt ride it to Kuwayt, and
there 1shall hand it to thee as gift - but thou must lead us
as well:
That was than could hoped With great alac
rity disappeared into the darkness and reappeared after
few minutes, leading old but beautifuI and obviously hardy
animaI. Mter some haggling we settled hundred and
fifty riya/s as its price, the understanding that 1 would
him fifty now and the rest, together with his reward, in Kuwayt.
zayd fetched purse filled with riya/s from of saddle
bags and 1started counting the coins into the Iap of the Sulubbi.
From the depths of his bedraggled tunic drew out piece of
cloth in which his was tied; and as started to add
riya!s to his hoard, the glitter of new coin caught
'Stop!' 1exclaimed, placing hand his. 'Let see that
shining of thine.'
With hesitant gesture, as if afraid of being robbed, the
Sulubbi laid the gingerly the palm of hand. Itfelt
sharp-edged, like new but to make sure 1 Iit match and
looked at it closely. It was indeed new Maria thaler
as new as if it hadjust left the mint. And when 1 held the match
over the rest the Sulubbi's 1 discovered five six
coins of the same startling newness.
'Where didst thou get these riyals?'
'1 them honestly, master, 1 swear ... 1 didnot
steal them. Mutayri gave them to some weeks ago
Kuwayt. bought new because his
was broken .. .'
Mutayri? Art thou certain?' :
'1 certain, master, and God ifI speak
lie ... was ofAd-Dawish's of party that
JINNS 241
c::ently been fighting again$t thc ami, It surely was not
to Crom bim.Cor sadd1e .. ? 1 could not
weU and 1 am sure that the Shuyukh, God lengthen
bis will understand this. .'
1 reassured him. that the would not bear ma1ice to
ward and bis anxiety8ubsidOO. questioning Curther.
1 Cound that other Sulubba had receivOO such new riya/s
from various Ad-Dawishin exchange for goods or
small services ..
SULUBBIINDBED P&OVED himselfanoutstandingguide.
For three nights 100 us meandering across terri
tory, over pathless 8tretches which even zayd. who knew this
well. had neverseen days werespent in hid
the Sulubbi was past-masterat finding unsuspectOO places
concealment. occasion 100 us 10 water hole wblch,
told us, was unknown even to the beduins the region; its
brackish, brown water assuagOO the thirst our came1s and en
us to waterslcins. twicedid we seegroups of
Ikhwansin th" distance, but neither occasion weretheyallow
ed to seeus.
In the Corenoon of tbe fourth after our with
the we within sight the town of Kuwayt. We
did not it the southwest,as travellersfrom Najd
wouldhavedone. but the west, along the road from
&0 that anyone who met us would think. wewerelraqi traders.
in Kuwayt,we ourselves at in compound
of merchant withwhomzayd wasacquaintOO Crom bis days in
the Iraqi Constabulary.
oppressive heat over the sandy streets and the
built sunbaked mud bricks; and, accustomed to the
steppes Najd, I"was drenched with perspiration.
But there was rest. Leaving the Sulubbi in
the - with the striet injunction ndt to mention to
from where we had - zayd and 1 proceedOO to the
to pre1iminary investigations.
Not Camiliar with Kuwayt myseif, and not to
make zayd conspicuous presence, r remainOO for
about an cotree slLop. coffee and
Q
242 aOAD
smoking 1I!UiiJe. W!tenlayd. at Jastre-appeared. it waaobvioua
triumphant expression that had found out son
thing of
'Let us go uncle. It is easier to talk in the
ket place without being overheard. And here 1 brought
something for thee -.andfor as weU' - and from under his
produced two Iraqi iga/s thick, 100sely plaited brown
wool. will Iraqis us.'
discreet enquiries Zayd ascertained that former
of his - old smuggling days in the
Persian Gulf- was now living in Kuwayt, apparent1y still
gaged' in his aceustomed trade.
there is who can us something about gun-run
ning in this town, it is Bandar. is Shammar like
of- those stubbom fools who could never fuUy reconcile
themselves to Ibn Saud's rule. Wemust not let him knowthat we
working for the Shuyukh - and, 1think, not from where
weha!e Cor is not really is cun
ning man - indeed, has tricked too in the past that 1
should trust him. now.'
We finallytraeed the man to house in closeto
the main was-taJ.l and thin, perhaps Corty ycars ofage,
with close-seteyesand dyspepticexpression; but his fca
tures lit in genuinepleasure when beheldZayd. of
light 1 was introduced as Tutk who had settled in
and had been engaged in exporting horses
to 'But it does not nowadays to bring horses
to addedZayd. merchants from Anayza and
Burayda completely comered the market there.'
'1know,' repliedBandar. 'those dirty Southerners Saud
are not content with having taken away our country; they are
bent ta.king away our livelihood as well .. :
'But what about gun-running, Bandar l' asked Zayd.
should 10t of business here, with all these Mutayr and Aj
man desirous of twistingIbn Saud's neck - hehl'
was 10tof business,' replied Bandar, with shrug of
his shoulders. 'Until few months ago 1 was making quite good
buying rifies in Transjordan and selling them to the
of Ad-Dawish. But now that is finished, entirely
fiDished. couldn't seJ single rifie now.'
JINNS 243
'How is that? 1 should think
,
Ad-Dawish would neod them
tban ever before.'
es,' retorted '50 does. But gets them at price
for wblch like thee could never afford to sen
gets them in cases, from overseas - English rifles, almost new
and pays ten riya/s for rifle with two hundred rounds of
_
'Praise unto God!' exclaimed zayd in genuine astonish
ment. riya/s for an almost new rifle with two hundred
rounds: but that is impossible ... !'
It really did seem impossible, for at that Lee-Enfield
rifles' cost in Najd about thirty to thirty-five riya/sapiece, with
out and if took into consideration that
the prices at Kuwayt might lower than in Najd, the tremen
dous difference was unaccountable.
smiled wryly. 'Well, it seems that Ad-Dawish has
powerful friends. powerful friends ... Some say that one
day hewill independent am;" in northem Najd.
'What thou sayest, Iinterposed, 'is a1l wel1 and
goOO. Perhaps Ad-Dawish will make himself independent
of Ibn Saud. But has and without even the
great Alexander could not built kingdom.'
broke loud guffaw: Ad-Dawish
has plenty of that - plenty of new riya/s, which to in
cases, like the rifles, from beyond the
'Cases riya/s? But that is very strange. From where could
beduin cases new riya/s?'
1 do not know,' replied 'But 1 do know that al
most daily some ofhis are taking delivery ofnew riyals that
rcaching them. through various merchants inthe city. Why,
yesterday 1saw Farhan ibn at the port supervising
the unloading such cases.'
was indeed news. 1 knew.Farhan well.He was grand
nephew of that CamousSyrian beduin prince, Nuri ash-Shaa1an,
who had fought together with Lawrence agaiDst
1had first young Farban in 1924 in Damascus, where was
notorious forhis revels in al1 the places entertain
ment. Some afterward fell out with his great-uncle,
gratedwith sub-section ofhistri1)e, the Ruwala, to Najd, where
suddenly 'pious' and joined the Inovement. 1
244
,methim again in 1927 in Ibn castleat Hai1. then
had donned Ihehuge, wblteturban ofthe Jkhwan as symbolof
his new-found faith, and was enjoying the bounty of the
when 1remindedhim of previousmeetingsin Damascus,
__quicldy changed the subject. Stupid and as was,
had seenin Ad"Dawish's revolt an opportunity to an in
dependent amirate for himselfin A1-Jawf, oasis of the
Great Nufud - for in as elsewhere, rebels follow the
time-honouredpracticeof divjdingthe Iion's skin beforethe lion
has k.ilIed.
"So Farhan is here in Kuwayt?' 1 asked
"Of comes here as often as Ad-Dawish, and goes
freelyin and out ofthe shaykh's palace. shaykh, they has
great liking for
do not the British object to Ad-Dawish's and Farhan's
coming to Kuwayt1 1 to rememberthat some ago
theyannounced that they would not alJow Ad-Dawish or his
people to enter this territory . . . l'
guffawed again. "So they did, so they did. But, 1 have
told thee: Ad-Dawish has very powerful friends ... 1 am not
sure whether is in townjust now; but Farhan is. goes
evening to the Great Mosque for the maghrib prayer - thou
canst see him there with eyesif thou dost oot believe
.. .'
And seehim wedid. When, taking hint, and 1
strolled in the ear)y evening in the vicinity of the Great
weabnost collidedwith group of beduins, unmistakably Najdi
in bearing, who emerged from around street comer. At their
head was in his middle thirties, somewhat shorter than
the tal1 beduins who surrounded and followed him, his hand
some face adomed short, bIack beard. 1 recognized him at
1 do not know to this whether recognized bls
eyes met for moment, swept over with puzzled
pression, as if were trying to recall memory, and then
turned away; and instant and his retinue were lost in
the throng of peopIe moving toward the mosque.
We decidednot to extend our clandestinesojoum in Kuwayt
undu1y waitingfor opportunity to seeAd-Dawishas well.
reveIations were confirmed zayd's adroit enquiries
other acquaintancesin the town. Ad-Dawish's mysterious
JlNNS 245
supplies Lee-Enfield ri6es - superficially disguised as
'purchases' - clearly pointed to Kuwayti merchant who had al
ways been prominent as importer anns; the large
amounts mint-new riya/s that circulated in the
bazaars Kuwayt were in almost every case traceable Ad
Dawish and the men around Short of seeing his actual
, and examining the consignment papers - which was scarceIy
within the realrn of likelihood - we had enough evidence to
firm the suspicions the had voiced during bls talk with
mission was completed; and in the following night we
made way out Kuwayt as stealthily as we had Dur
zayd's and investigationsin the our Sulubbi had
found out that there were rebel groups at the moment to the
south Kuwayt. And so to the south we went - in the direction
Al-Hasa province, which was firm]y under the control the
After two strenuous night marches, we not far
from the coast, detachment oCBanuHajar beduins who had been
sent out the amir of Al-Hasa to reconnoitre the latest posi
tions of the rebels; and in their we re-entered 10yal
territory. Once safely within Ibn Saud's realm, we parted from '
Su1ubbi guide who, contentedly pocketing his well-eamed
reward, rode away toward the west the 1 had 'presen
ted' to him, while we continued southward in the direction of
Riyadh.
SER.IES ARTICLES 1 subsequently wrote made
it clear Corthe the rebels were being supported
great European power. pointed out that the basic aim
these intrigues was to push Ibn Saud's frontiers southward and,
ultimately, to convert his northernmost province into 'inde
pendent' principality between Saudi and Iraq, which
would allow the to railway line across its terri
tory. this, Ad-Dawish's rebellion offered we1come
to about so Q}uch confusion in Ibn Saud's kingdam
that hewou1d in position to resist, as had hitherto done,
Britain's Cor two important concessions: ofthem
the leaSe of the Red Sea port of Rabigh, north Jidda,
wherethe British had long wanted to establish naval base, 8I1d
the other, ccntrol of that of the Damascus-Medina rail
246 ROAD
way which runs through Saudi territory. defeat of Saud at
the hands of Ad-Dawish would have brought these schemes welI
the rea.lm of practical possibility.
flash ofsensation followed the publication of articles in
the European and (m.ainly Egyptian) press; and it
well that the premature disclosure of that secret
contributed something to its subsequent frustration. At rate,
the plan of British railway from to Basra was allowed to
lapse into oblivion in spite of the Jarge sums which appeared to
have spent for preliminary surveys, and was never heard of
again.
What happened afterward is matter of history: that
summer of 1929. Ibn Saud protested to the British against the
freedom accorded Ad-Dawish to purcbase arms and ammuni
at Kuwayt. Since had tangible 'proof' that these arms
were supplied foreign power, the could protest
against the saJesas such. British authorities replied that
it was the traders in Kuwayt who were supplying to the
rebels - and that Britain could do to stop this. since in
the treaty of Jidda of 1927 they had lifted their embargo the
import to Arabia. IfIbn Saud wanted, they said. too
oould import via Kuwayt ... When Ibn Saud
that the very same treaty obliged both Britain and Saudi Arabia
prevent in their territories all activities directed the
security of the other ht received the answer that Kuwayt
crou!d not tenned 'British territory' was indepen
dent shaykhdom with which Britain had more than treaty
re1ations ...
And 50 the civil war continued. In the late autumn 1929.
Saud personal1y took the field. this determined to
SIDe Ad-Dawish even into Kuwayt if- as had always been the
casc in the - that territory remained to the as
n:fuge and basc Cor Curther operations. In the face of this deter
mined attitude, which Ibn Saud took to communicate to
tIheBritish authorities. theyapparently realized that it would
to their gamc further. aeroplancs and
ured cars were sent out to prevent Ad-Dawish from retreat
again into Kuwayti territory.. rebel realized that his
was 105t; never would to withstand the in
(a;Jen battlc; and 50 5tarted to negotiate. terms
JINNS 247
were crispand clear: the rebel tribes 'urrender; their arms,
and dromedaries would taken away from them.; Ad
Dawish's would spared, btlt wou1d to spend the
rest of days in Riyadh.
Ad-Dawish, always 50 active and movement, could not
resign himself to inaction and immobility: refused the offer.
Fighting last-ditch battle against the overwhebning forces of
the King, the rebels were completely routed; Ad-Dawish and
few other leaders _. among them Farhan ibn Mashhur aIld Naif
cbleftain of the Ajman - Bed to Iraq.
Ibn Saud demanded Ad-Da"ish's extradition. For it
seemed that Faysal of Iraq refuse his dem!ind in..
voking the ancient Arabian law of hospitality and
but finally in. Early in 1930, Ad-Dawish, seriously
was handed over to the and brought to Riyadh. When after
few weeks it that tbls time was real1ydying,
Ibn Saud, with his customary generosity, had-him back
to his family at Artawiyya, where his stormy to end.
And again reigned in the realm of Ibn Saud ...
ONCE AGAIN reigns around the wells of Atja.
God give life, wayfarers! Partake of our bounty!'
calls out the old Mutayri beduin, and his help us to water
our.camels. All grudges and enmities ofthe so past seem
to forgotten, as if they had never
For the beduins strange quick to fiare up in
controllable passion at imaginary andjust as
quick to 5wing back to the steady rhythm of in which
modesty and kindness prevail: always and in close
proxirnity.
And as they draw water for our camels in their huge leather
buckets, the Mutayri chant in chorus:
Dr;nk, ond spare \\'oter,
Tlle ;s groce olld 110S bottom ...
-3
ON NJGHT after our departure from Hail, we reach
the plain of Medina and see thh dark outline of ount U11ud.
248
dromedaries move with tircd step; we have long
hind from early deep into this nigbt. Zayd and
silent, and 1am silent In the moonlight the city
before us with its crenellated wa11s the slim, straight minarets
the Prophet's
We arrive before the wblch, it north, is
cal1ed the Syrian. shy before the shadows its
bastions, and we haveto use make them
ter the gateway.
Now 1am in the City the Prophet, after 10ng
wandering: for this city has for several years.
deep, familiar quiet lies over its sleeping, empty streets. and
there dog rises lazily before the feet of the camels. young
walks singing; voice sways in soft rhythm and fades
away in side-lane. balconies and windows of
the houses hang black and silent over us. moon1it air is luke
warm like fresh milk.
And here is house.
takes leave go some friends, while we two make'
camels kneel down before the Zayd hobblesthem with
out word and begins unload the saddlebags. 1 knock at the
door. Mter 1 voices and footsteps from within.
shine lantem appears through the fanlight, the bolts
drawn and old Sudanese maid servant, exclaims joy
fully:
master has
IX
PERSIAN LETTER
-1"'

IS AFTERNOON. 1 sitting with friend in his

garden just outside the gate of Medina. multi
tude of palm trunks the orchard weaves grey-green
twilight into itr. background, making it endless.
trees still young and low; sunlight dances over their trunks
and the pointed of their fronds. green is somewhat
dusty because of the sand-storms which occur almost dai1y at
this of year. the thick carpet of under the
palms is of brilliant, faultless green.
Not far in front of rise the city wa1ls, old, grey, built of
stone and mud bricks, with bastions jutting forward here and
there. From behind the wall tower the luxuriant palms of
other garden in the interior of the city, and houses with weather
browned window shutters and enclosed balconies; some of them
have built into the city wall and have part of it. In
the distance' 1 see the fiveminarets of the Prophet's Mosque.
high and tender li.ke the voices of f1.utes, the great green dome
which vaults over and conceals the little house of the Prophet
while lived and his after died - and still
farther, the city, the naked, rocky range of Mount Uhud:
brown-red backdrop for the white minarets of the Holy
Mosque, the crowns of the palms and the houses of the
town.
sky, glaringly lighted the aftemoon sun, lies glass
clear over opalescent clouds, and thecity is bathedin blue,
gold- and green-8treaked li8ht. high wind plays around the
80ft clouds, wblch in Arabia 80deceptive. Never you
say here, ' Now it i8 cloudy; it wil1rain ': for even the
clouds mass heavily, as ifpregnant with stonn, it often happens
that Toar of wind 8udden1y from out of the desert and
sweeps them and the face8 of the people who have
waiting for rain tum away in 8ilent resignation, and they mutter.
249
2SO ROAD
& lbere is power aqd strength except in God - while the
sky glares anew in c:lea,"t'ess without merey.
1 bld good-bye to friend wa1k baek toward the outer
city gate. passes dri",,:;;\s fi pair of donkeys loaded with
luceme. himself riding third donkey.He lifts his staff in
greeting and says, with and 1 rcply with the
same words. Then comes young beduin wnman. black
trailing behind her and the lower of her face covered
with veil. shining eyes so black that iris and pupil
merge into and step has something of the hesitant.
swinging tension of young steppe animals.
1enter the city and crossthe huge, square ofAI-Manakha
to the inner wall; beneath the heavy of the Egyptian
Gate. under wblch the money-changers sit clinking their goId
and siIver 1 step into the main bazaar - street hardIy
twelve feet across, tightly packed with shops around which
smaIl but Hfe pulsates.
vendors praise their goods with cheerfuI songs. Gay head
cIoths, silken shawls and robes of figured wool attraet
the C'f the passerby. Silversmiths croueh behind small gIass
cases containing beduin jeweIIery - arm-rings and ankle-rings,
necklaces and vendors dispIay basins filled
with little red with for colouring the
Iashes, multicoloured bottles of oils and and heaps
of spices. Traders Najd seIling beduin garrnents and
camel-saddles and long-tasselled red and blue saddlebags from
eastem Arabia. An auctioneer runs through the street, shouting
at the top of his voice, with Persian carpet and
over his shouIder and brass under his arrn.
FIoods of people in both directions, from and the
rest of Arabla and - as the of the pilgrimage has ended oniy
short while ago - from all the countries between the steppes of
Senegal and those of the between the Indies and
the Atlantic between Astrakhan and zanzibar: but in
spite of the mu]titude of peopIe and the narrowness of the street,
there is hurried frenzy here. pushing and jostling: for in
Medina time does not ride the of
But what might even more strange is that despite the
great variety of types and costumes that fiIIs them, there
is nothing of 'exotic' medley in the strects Medina: the
\
251 PBRSIAN LBTTER.
variety reveals itselC that is deter
mined analyze. It tbat the who in
city, or 50jOurn in it Call into
what might mood and thus also
haviour and, almost, Cacia1 expression: Cor
Callen under the spel1oCthe Prophet, whose city it was
and whose guests now are ...
Even after thirteen centuries his spiritual presence is a1most as
alive here it then. It was him. that
scattered group once called Yathrib city and
has lovecl down to this day as city
where else in the world has ever 10ved. It has not even
its own: Cor more tban thirteen hundred years it has
ca1led Madinat City Prophet'. For
t11an thirteen hundred years, so mucb has converged
here that shapes and movements abquired kind
and differences tona1
transition into common harmony.
is the one always Ceels here - thi5 unifying har
AJthough liCe in Medina has only Cormal, distant
relationsblp what Prophet aiJiled at; although
spritual awareness lslam has been cheapened here, asin many
other parts Mus1im world: indescribable emotiona1
link with its great spiritual past has remained a1ivc. Neverhas
:city been so loved Cor sake one sing1e persona1ity;
never has any man, dead Cor tbltteen hundred years, been .
10ved so personal1y, and 50 he who lies buried
neath the great green dome.
And yet never claimed to anything but mortal man,
and never Muslims attributed divinity to him, $0
Collowers other Prophets done after Prophet'5 death.
Indeed, the itse1f abounds in statements which stress
Muhammad's humanness: Muhammadis naught Prophet;
prophets passedaway him; ifhe dies is slain, will
then back heels? His utter insignificance before
majesty God hasthus been expressed the Kcran: Say
Muhammad]: '1 do.not possess any,ower 10 grant
good.. 1donot possess power10 bene.fit
10 myse/f, except as God please; and had 1 kno\vn the
knowable, 1wouldhaveacquiredmuch and evillvould
252 ROAD
be/aJlen 1 nOlhing wamer the giver glad
tidiltgs 10 those who have/aith in God...' .
Itwas preciselybecause was human, becausehe lived
like other men, enjoying the 'pleasures aod suffering thc ills
existence, that those around him could 50 him
with theit love. .
This love has outlasted his death aod lives in the hearts of
his followers like the leitmolif of melody built up
tones. It lives in It 5peaks to you out of every stone
of the city. You 'almost touch it with your hands:
but cannot it in words ...
-2
I STROLL THROUGH the in the direction of the
Great an old acquaintance hai15 in passing.
1 nod to this and that 5hopkeeperand finally allow myself to
dragged friendAz-Zughaybidown to the littleplatform
wblch selIs cloth to beduins.
didst thou return, M1
Jhammad,
and from where'1 It
is months since thou
'1 am from Han and from the Nufud.'
'And wilt thou not remain at for timel'
'No brother, 1am for the day,after tomorrow.'
Az-Zughaybi ca1ls out to the in the coffeeshop opposite,
and soon the before
'But why, Muhammad, art thou going to now1
season of hojj is past ..'
'It js not desirefor pi1grimage that takes to After
all, am 1not hojjifive timesover'1 But somehow1have feeling
.that 1will not remain in and want to see
the city in wblch in this land ...' And then 1 add
with Iaugh: 'Well, brother - to thee the truth, 1do not 00
derstand myself why 1 amgoing10 but 1 know 1 have
to . :
Az-Zughaybi shake5his head in 'Thou wouldst leave
this and thy brethren '1 How canst thou like
familiar figures with 10n8o hutriec;l 5tride: it is
layd. obviously in someone'.
zayd. where to l' ,
tums abruptly toward with an eager face:
PElt.SIAN 253
'It is thee 1 have looking for, uncle; there was
pack ofletters waiting thy return at the post they are.
And thee, Shaykh Az-Zughaybi!'
Sitting cross-legged before Az-Zughaybi's shop, 1 go through
the bundle of there are severalletters from friends in
from the editor of the Zurcher of
Switzerland, whose correspondent 1 have for the past six
years; from India, urging to there and make the
acquaintance of thc largest single community in the
world; fewletters from various parts ofthe Near East; and
with postmark -from good friend A1i Agha, from
whom 1 have not heard for than year. 1 it and
glance through the pages covered with Ali Agha's elegant
shiqosta* writing:
mostbeloved/riend brother, the light %ur
the most respeetedAsad God lengthen his life and
teet his steps.
and the God, ever ever. And we
God that gi\'e heolth and happiness, knowing
that it pleose to hearthat weolso in perfect health,God
proised.
We did write time the uneven
in which our life has progressing in the months.
/ather, God has passedaway
and we, beilig tlJe eldest had to spend much time and worry
the afJairs. has God's
wi/l that the a.ffairs his unworthyservanthaveprospered
the lJQving granted promotion to
lieutenant eolonel. addition, wehopesoonto joined'"
.vith and beautifullady, second 5hirln
- and '" t1Jis way old, unsettled days coming to close.
As is we//known to /riendly heart, we have without
sin and '" past did not Hafiz say,
God, lJast thrown plank into the midst sea
Couldst Tll0U have desiredthat it remaindry?'
So old Agha is at last going to settle down and re .
spectable! was not 80 respectable when I first met
Lit.. 'broken' - Pcrsian variant Arabic script. used Cor rapid writiDl.
2s4
little over seven years in the town to wblch hehad
been 'exiled'. Although he was only twenty-six then, his
had full of aetion and excitement; had taken part in the
political upheavals wblch precedcd the assumption power
Riza and could bave played considerable role in Tehran
had not lived 100 His presence in out-of-the-way
in southeastem corner of Iran had brought about
and infiuential father in tbat the son
might reformed if were rcmoved from pleasures of
But Ali Agha seemed to found compensations
in - women, arrack and sweet poison of to
which was greatly devoted.
tbat in 1925, was the gendarmerie
mandei with rank lieutenant. As 1 was about to cross the
Dasht-i-Lut desert, 1 looked up with letter of intro
duetion from tOO governor of province - which in it5
tum was based letter from Riza the Prime Minister
and dietator. 1found Agha in shady garden orange trees,
oleanders and palms through whose pointed vaults the rays
the sun were filtered,He was in his shirt sleeves. carpet was
spread lawn, and it were dishes with the remnants
andhalf-empty bottles arrack. Ali Agha apologized, , It
is impossible to find wine in this damned hole,' and forced to
drink the local arrack - terribIe brew which went to the brain
like bIow. With theswimming northern Persian
glanced.throui,11 the letter from tossed it aside and said:
, Even if you had without introduction,.I would have
you myself your journey through Dasht-i-Lut.
You are guest. Iwould never let ride alone into the
desert.'
Someone who until had sitting halfconcealed in the
shadow of tree rose slowly: woman in knee-Iength,
tunic and wide, white Balucbl trousers. She had
sensual face tbat seemed to bum from witbln, large red Iips and
beautiful b1.it strangely vague eyes; the lids were pa.inted with
antimony.
'She is blind.' Ali Agha whispercd to in French, 'and is
wonderful singer.'
1 admired great tendemess and respect with wblch
treated girl who, i1S pubIic singer, belonged to category in
PBR.SIAN 2SS
lran more or less equated courtesans; could not
better toward any of great ladies of
We sat down. $ll three ofus. and while Agba
busied himself with and opium pipe. 1 talked with the
girl. In spite of blindness she could laugh as
those laugb who dwell deep in inner gladness; aod she made
shrewd and witty remarks such as lady of the great world oeed
not ashamed of. When Ali Agha fi.nished his pipe. .
took gently hand and said:
stranger here. this Austriao. would sureJy like to hear
one of your songs; has yet heard the songs of the

the sightlcss face faraway, dream.y happioess as
took the lute that Ali handed to her and begao to strum the
She sang with deep. husky voice Balucbl teot song
which sounded like life from warm lips ...
1 return to the Jetter:
1 wonder if still brotlrer and respecled /riend,
how we trarelJed together in those old days through the Dasht-;
Lut. and how we had 10 jight lives with those Baluchi
bandits. . . ?
Do 1 1 smile inwardJy at Ali Agha's idJe question
and see myself and him. in the desoJate Dasht-i-Lut, the 'Naked
Desert' which spreads its huge from deep
into the heart of Iran. 1 was about to cross it in order to
Seistan, the easternmost province of Iran, and thence to proceed
to Afghanistan; as 1had from there was other
way but
We stopped, together witb our escort of BaJuchi gendarmes,
grecn the fringe of the desert in order to blre
aod provisions for the 100g trek ahead. Our temporary
headquarters were in the station of the Indo-European
TeJegraph. station-master, tall, sharp-eyed
almost let out sight and seemed to appraise with
his glances.
of this Ali 10 is
bandit.I know and knows that 1 know Until few
ago was real robber. but now has saved enough
256 Jl.OAD
and respectable - and makes more money
from supplying arms to bls former collea.gues. 1 waiting
for opportune moment to cateh him at it. But the. fellow is
and it is difficult to prove anything. Since has heard
that you are Austrian is very During the World
War some Austrian and German agents were trying to arouse
the tribes in these parts against the British; they had gold
coins with them: and our friend that every German or
Austrian is similarly
But the cunning the station-master for was
to find for two the best riding-camels the region.
rest the day was occupied with haggling about waterskins.
camel-hair clarifiOO butter and other odds and
ends necessary for the desert journey.
afternoon following day we startOO. Ali Agha de
cided to ahead with four gendarmes to
place for the night, and the drawn-out of their
soon disappeared beyond the horizon. We others - Ibrahim.
self and the fifth gendarme - followed at slower
We swayed (how new it was then to with the strange,
swinging of the slinl-limbed dromedaries, at first through
sand dunes, yellow, sparsely dotted with clumps of grass, then
deeper and deeper into the plain - into an endiess,
grey &1 and empty - so empty that it not to
flow but to faU toward the fo;: your could find
there which to rest, ridge the gound, stone,
bush, blade of grass. No animal sound, chirping
of birds or of beetle broke through that vast si1ence,
and even the wind, deprived of aU impediment, swept low with
out voke over the void - into it, as stone falls into an
abyss .. was not silence of death, but rather of the un
of that which had never yet to the silence before
the Firs1 Word.
And then it happened. silence broke. voice
struck gent1y, chirpingJy, into the air and remainOO suspended,
as it were: and to you it seemOO as ifyou could not hear but
see it, 50 and 80 undisguisOO other sounds it floatOO
over the desert plain. It was Baluchi 801dier. song
of his nomad days, half-sung and half-spoken rhapsody.
quick succession hot and tender words wblch 1 could not un
257 PERSIAN LETTEI.
derstand. His voice rang in few tones, single level,
with persistence that gradually grew into something like splen
dour as it enveloped the brittle melody in byplay of throaty
/sounds. nnd, sheer repetition and variation of the same theme,
unfoldcd unsuspected wealth in its flat tones - flat and limit
less, likc the land in which it had born ...
of the desert through which we now travelled was
called the 'Desert Ahmad's Bells'. Many years ago,
led named Ahmad 10st its way here, and them,
animals, perished from thirst; and to this day , it is said,
the bells which Ahmad's camels wore around their neck!> are
heard travellers - ghostly, mournful sounds
entice unwary from their path and lead them to in
the descrt.
Shortly after sunset we caught up with Ali Agha and the ad
vance guard and. made amidst some kahur shrubs - the
last we would see for days. was made from dry twigs, and
the inevitable tea prepared - while Ali Agha smoked his usual
opium pipe. camels were fed coatse barley and made to
kneel in around us. Three of the gendarmes were posted
as sentries the outlying dunes, for the region in which we
found ourselves was in those days playground the dreaded
demons the desert, the tribal raiders from the south.
Ali Ag!"a just .linished his pipe tea and was drinking
arrack - for 1was not in keep
when rifle shot shattered the silence of the night. second shot
from of our sentries answered and was followed out
cry somewhere in the darkness. Ibrahim, with great presence of
mind, irnmediately threw sand More shots from
directions. sentries were now invisible, could hear
them out to one another. We did not know how the
attackers wei-e, for they kept uncannily silent. Qnly off and
faint stab of light from rifle their presence;
and or twice 1 could discem white-clad figures flitting
through tbe blackness. Several low-aimed bullets 'whizzed over
our heads, but of us were hit. commotion
died down, few more shots and were sucked in the night;
and the raiders, apparently disconcerted our watchfulness.
vanished as quietly as they had
Agha called in the sentries and we held short council.
258 ROAD
Originally we had intended to spend the night here; but as we
had idea how strong the attacking was. and whether
they would retum with reinforcements, we decided to break
immediately andto move
night was as as pitch; heavy, low clouds had con
cealed the and the stars. In summertime it is better, as
rule,to travel in the desert at night; but under
stances we would have risked in such darkness for
losing our way, for the hard gravel Dasht-i-Lut does
not keep tracks. In the early times the Iranian kings used to
mark the caravan routes in such deserts guideposts
but like so other good things the old days,
these marks had long since disappeared. Indeed, they \vere
longer necessary: the wire ofthe Indo-European Telegrapb, laid
the British the beginning the century from the Indian
frontieracross the Dasbt-i-Lut to served equally we1l,
or even better, as guide; but in night like this,.wire and tele
graph posts were invisibIe.
1biswediscovered to our dismay".. about balf hOur
the gendarme had riding abead as our guide suddenly
reined in hismount and sbamefacedly reported to AIi
'Hazrat,I cannot see the wire more .. .'
For moment we all remained silent. were weUs, we
knew, only along the route marked telegraph line, and
and even these were very widely spaced. lose way here
would to like Ahmad's legendary caravan ...
AIi Agha spoke up in way wblch was quite un
like his usual manner; and one could safely presume that arrack
and opium were responsible. drew out his pistol and bel
lowed:
'Where is the wire? Why did you lose the wire, you sons
dogs? 1 know - are in league with those bandits and
to lead us astray so that we from thirst and
thus easy plunder!'
reproach was certainly unjust, Cor Balucbl would never
man with whom has eaten bread and salt. gen
darmes, obviously hurt their lieutenant's accusation,
their innocence, but broke in:
'Silence! Find the wire immediately or 1 will shoot down
you sons bumed fatbers!'
259 PBRSIAN
1coutd not their faces in the darkness but could sense how
deeply . the free Balucbls. were feeling the insult; they
longer bothered to reply. T h suddenly ofthem -
guide of while ago - detached himself from the group, struck
his ! with bls whip and disappeared at gallop into the
darkness.
'Where to 7' shouted Agha and received few indistinct
words in reply. For few seconds could hear soft pad
ding ! the camel's feet, then the sounds dived into night.
In spite ! conviction, moment before, ! the innocence
of Baluchi gendarme, the hesitant thought crossed mind:
Now has gone to bandits; Ali Agha was right, after
... 1 heard Agha draw back the safety-catch ofhis pistot and
1 did the same. Ibrablm slowly unslung his carbine. We sat
motionless in our saddles. ! the dromedaries grunted
softly. gendarme's struck against saddle. Long
minutes passed. could almost hear the breathing of the .
Then, abruptly, shout from great distance. it
sounded mereIy like, '000,' but the Baluchis seemed to under
stand it and of them, cupping his hands to his mouth,
citedly shouted something back in the Brahui tongue. Again that
distant shout. of the gendarmes turned toward Ali Agha and
said in Persian:
' ,,'ire, hazrat! has found the wire!'
tension broke. Relieved, we followed the voice ! the in
visible scout directing us from to time. When we reached
. rose in his saddie and pointed into the darkness:
.'There is the wire.'
And rightIy, after few moments we almost struck against
telegraph post.
h e first thing Ali Agha did was characteristic 'of h i .
caught the soIdier his bclt, dre\v cIose to himself and,
learning nvcr the saddle, kissed both cheeks:
'11 is 1, and not thou, who is son of dog, brother. For
give .. .'
It subsequently transpired that the Baluchi, this child ! the
wilderness, had riding in zigzag untiI heard from dis
tance of half mile the wind in the wire: humming that
waseven now, when 1 passed directly under it, almost impercep
tibJe to European ears ...
260
Wo .proceeded slowly, c:autiously, through the black night,
from invisible telegra'ph to invisible telegraph
thegendarmes always riding ahead and calling out his
hand steuck polo. Wo had found our way and were
not to 10se it apin.

1 and return to Agha's
letter:
With tl,epromotion to /ieutenant this
has appointed to the '8taff; and this, helovedfriend
andbrother, appea/s us than ga/'rison life in provincial
town ...
1am it does; Ali Agha has always had flair for life in the
capital and its - especially political intrigues. And, in
deed, in bls letter goes to describe the political atmosphere
ofTehran, those endless wranglings under the surface, those in
tricate manoeuvrings with wblch fOl'eign powers for so long
to keep Iran in s18te restlessness that makes it
wel1-nigh impossible for the strange, gifted nation to into
its own.
R1gb( being harassed the English oil :
pressure ;sbe;ng exerted 10 extendthe
concession and thus 10 pr%ng sla\ery. TJ,e bazaars
zing with rumours, alldGod alone \vhere illis }vill /ead
to .
bazaar has always played most important role in the
politicallife countries; and this is particularly true
bazaar, in wblch the' hidden heart pulsates
with persistence that defies alI decay and alIpassing
the lines Ali Agha's letter this huge bazaar,
most city in itself, reappears before eyes with the vividness
of sight seen on1yyesterday: wide-meshed twilight labyrinth
ofhalls and passageways roofed with vaults ofpointed arches. In
the main street, to small, dark booths fil1ed
trifles, there covered patios with skylights, stores iri which the
PERSIA.N LETTBR 261
most expensive European and Asiatic silks are being sold; next
to ropemakers' workshops. the 81ass cases ofthe silversmiths full
delicate work; multicoloured textiles from Bokhara
and India mingle with rare Persian - huntin8 carpets
with figures knights horseback. leopards, peacocks
and antelopes; glass-pearl necklaces and automatic lighters next
to sewing machines; black, unhappy umbre11as side side with
yel1ow-embroidered sheepskin robes from as
sembled in extremely 10ng hall as if in an immense and not
too carefully arranged shop window.
In the innumerable side-lanes this tangled maze handi
craftsand the shops grouped according to trades.
you see the 10ng of saddlers and leatherworkers, with
the red dyed leather as the colour and the sourish
leather permeatingthe taiJors: and
- most the shops consist single
raisea with about three or four square yards floor space
- one the whirring industrious sewing machines; 10ng
hung out for sale, always the same garments -
that when you walk you sometimes think that you are standing
still. ou similar impression in many other the
as wel1; the less. the abundance of sameness at
single point has nothing in common ,vith monotony; it intoxi
cates the stranger and fills him with uneasy satisfaction. Even
though you visit the bazaar for the hundredth .time, you find the
mood around you always the seemingly unchanged - but
that inexhaustible, vibrating changelessness an wave
which always alters its forms but keeps its substance unchanged.
The bazaar the coppersmiths: chorus bronze bells are
the swinging hammers which beat out copper. bronze and
brass the mostvaried shapes, transforming formless metal sheets
into bowIs and basins and goblets. What acoustic sureness,
this hammering in altering tempos across the whole length of the
- acquiescing to the rhythm of others - so
that there should dissonance to the car: hundred work
men hammering differentobjects in different shops - but in
the whole bazaar street only melody ... In this deep, more
than merelymusical, almost sociaIdesirefor harmony aprcars tl:t:
hidden of the Iranian soul.
The spice siIent white sugar cones, rice bags.
..
262
mounds almonds and pistacblos, hazelnuts and melon kernels.
baslns fun of dried apricots and ginger, brass plates with cin
curry, saffron and seeds, the litt1e
bowls ofaniseed, vanilla, cummin, cloves and countless odd herbs
and roots which exude heavy, overpowering Over the
shining, brass scales crouch the Iords of these strangenesses, like
buddhas, with crossed. from time to time out in
to passerby and asking after wants. All speech is
only ,vhisper noisy where sugar flows
smootbly bag into balance scaJe, and cannot noisy
\vhere thyme or aniseed is being weighed ... It is the same
adaptation to the of the material wmch enables the
Iranian to knot carpets out of innumerable coloured wool
threads - thread thread, fraction inch fraction
inch - until stands there in its playful perfection. lt is
accidcnt that Persian carpets have equal in the world.
Where else could find this deep quiet, this thoughtfulness
and absorption in one's own doing? - where else such dark
depths to which time and the passing oftime solittle?
, cavemous niches, somewhat larger ,than the usual ones, sit
silent miniature painters. are copying old miniatures from
hand-written books that torn to shreds. de
pieting in breath-fine Iincs and colours the great things
fights and hunts, and happiness and sadness. and thin
as nerve-threads their brushes; the colours are not entrusted
lifeless vessels but mixed the living of the painter
and distributed in minute bIobs and drops the fingers the
left hand. new pages offlawless whiteness the old miniatures
experience rebirth, stroke after stroke, shade after shade. Side
side with the flaking gold backgrounds the origjnals emerge
the shining the copies. faded orange trees royal
park blossom again in new spring; the tender women in;silks
and' furs repeat again their loving gestures; anew rises
sun over old knigbtly 1'010 game ... Stroke after stroke.
shade after shade, the siIent follow the creative adventures
of dead artist, and there is as rnuch love in them as there was
enchantment in him; and this love makes almost forget the
..t; U} '. 'J!" the eopies ...
'J-;rr";, and thc miniature painters sit bent over their
\vork, strangers unto the day. Time passes; in the bazaar streets
263 PERSIAN
Westem junk penetrates with stubbom gradualness into
the shops; kerosene lamp from Chicago, the printed cotton
cloth from Manchester and teapot from Czechoslovakia ad
, vance victoriously: but miniature painters sit cross-Iegged
their worn straw mats, burrowing with tender eyes and fingertips
into the blissful oldjoys, give to their royal hunts and ecstatic
lovers new awakening, day after day , , .
Numberless are the people in the gents with
coHar often over or
semi-European suit, conservative burghers 'il1 long kajral1S and
silken sashes, peasants and artisans in blue drab jackcts, Sing
ing - Iran's aristocratic beggars - in white, flowing
garrnents, sometimes with 1eopard skin over the back, 10ng
hair and mostly of fine build, women of the middle class
according to their means, dressed in silk or but always in
bIack, with the traditional short standing stiffiy
from their faces; the \vear <t light-coloured
flo\vered cotton wrap. muHahs ride magnificcntly
caparisoned.asses and turn the strangcr
atical that seems to ask: 'What doing
one of those who work our country's ruin?'
Iran's long experience ofWestern intrigues has made its peopJe
suspicious. No Iranian expects good to his
country the /arangis, Agha does not seem to
unduly pessimistic:
is o/d - certaln/y reody 10 die. We
oppressed. nations IlOve slvept and
110ve passed Q}vay: Ive o//d
in igllorollce ond dorkl1ess: Ive a/I}'c. This "':; because 11'l'
lranians a/woys.go Qlvn How 'IO! tl,e outside
lried to us new /ife - and O/IVOYS /oiled, W('
do oppose Ivitll Vio/eflCe, ond /1,er('10re {!
.sometimes if Ilad surrend(!red tlle,l"
the tribe the muryune - tllOt litt/(!, insignijicoJlt Ivhic/l
lil'es under liglll Ileart, mus/ I,ave seel1 some
times 111 lran hO\li 'el/-buill IlOuses Ivitll stro"g II'a//s suddenly
co//apse reosoll. WI,ot Ivas tlze reaSO/l? Notllillg
Il10se which/or years, 1!';II,/f/lceasif1g induslry.
110\'(' burrm\'ing and i/i 111l'
264 ROAD
a/ways advancing hair's breadth, s/ow1y, patient/y, in aJ/
directions - unti/at last wa///oses its and topp/es over.
We /ranians We do not oppose the powers
world with noisy and useless violence, but allow to do their
worst, and burrow 'n si/ence passageways and until
tlJeir build;ng Jt1i/1 suddenly co/lapse ...
And what when throlv stone into
s;nks, a/ew circles the sur/ace, spread
out andgraduallylade away, until the water;sasplacidas
We [ran;ans such\t1ater.
Shah, Godpro/ung ilis/ife, has heavyburden to
M,;th the English sideand the Russians the other. But we
doubt that, thegraceofGod,lJe will.find to
...
Agha's implicit faith in Riza Shah does not, the surface,
to misplaeed. is undoubtedly of the most
dynamic personalities 1 have ever met in the Muslim world, and
of the kings 1 have known, only Ibn Saud with

story of Riza Sbah's rise to power is like fantastic fairy
tale, possible only in this Eastem world where personal courage
and wi1lpower sometimes lift out utter obscurity to
the pinnaele of1eadership. When 1 to know during
first stay in Tehran in the summer 1924, was Minister
and undisputed dictator Iran; but the people had not yet quite
overcome tbeir 8hock at seeing him 60 suddenly, 80
cxpectedly, at the helm of tbe country's affairs. 1 still remember
the wonderment with whicb an old Iranian clerk in the
Embassy at Tehran onee told know that but ten
years this Minister ofours stoOO guard asan ordinary
trooper before the gatcs of this very embassy 1 And that I myself
occasionally gave him letter to deliver to the Foreign Ministry
and admonished "Make haste, you of dog, and don't
dawdle in the bazaar ... !"
Yes, it had not so years since Riza thc trooper
5toOO 5entry before the embassies and public buildings of
ran. 1eould pieture as stood tl1ere in the shabby uniform
9Ithc Iranian eossaek brigade, leaning his and at
/the act1vity in the 5treets around would wateb Persian
PERSIAN LETTER
peoplc stroll along like dreamy shadows sit in tbe cool
eveninga10ng thewater cbannels. as 1watched tbem. And from
English bank beblnd his back would hear the rattling oftypo
writerIt. the bustle of busy the whole rustHng stir wblcb
distant Europe had brought into that Tehran bui1ding with its
faience fa<;ade. It have then, for the first
body told this. but 1 somehow tblnk it have so),
that in tbe unschooled head ofthe soldier Riza wondering.
questioning thought arose: 'Must it like this .. ? Must it
that people of otber nations work and strive. while our
past like dream 7'
And it was perhaps at tbat moment that desire for changc
creator of lIJ1 great deeds, discoveries and revolutions - began to
flicker in his brain and CalI Cor expression ...
At other have stood sentry before the garden
gateway of of the great European embassies. The well
tended trees moved with the wind, and the graveIled pathways
crunched under the feet of wblte-garbed servants. In that
in the midst of the park mysterious power seemed to dwcll; it
cowed every Iranian who passed through the gate and
him to straighten hisclothes self-consciously and made his hands
embarrassed and,awkward. Sometimes elegant carriages drew
and lranian politicians stepped of them. soIdier Riza
knew of tbem sigbt: this was the foreign minister,
that tbe finance minister. Almost always they had tense,
prebensive faces when they entered that gateway, and it was
amusing to observe their expressions when they left the embassy:
sometimes they \vere radiant, as jf great favour had
ferred upon them; sometimcs pale and depressed, as if sentence
of doom had just been passed over them. mysterious
people within bad pronounced the sentence. soldier Riza
wondered: 'Must it thus ... ?'
OccasionaIly it happened that 1ranian clerk running
from the bui1ding Rjza was guarding, thrust letter into
bls hand and said: 'Carr)' this quickly to so and so. But make
haste, thou son of dog, othenvise the An1bassador wiII
angry!' Riza was accus10med to being thus addressed, for his
officers were not in the least fastidious in their cboiee of
epithets. But possibIy - almost certainly - the words 'son of
dOB' gave stab for knew: was not
266 ltOAD
son of dog but the son of great nation that ca1lednames like
Rustam, Darius, Shah Abbas, Nadir
Shah its But what did <those within' know What
did they knQw of the forces whdl moved like dark, dumb
through the breast of (ort)'-year-old soldier and
times threatened to burst his make him bite his fists in
powerless despair, if 1 could .. .'?
And the desire for self-::.ffirmatiofl that weepingly dwells in
every lranian sometimes rose up with painful, unexpected
in the soldier Riza, and made bls mind clear and made
him sudden1y understand strange pattern in saw ...
Great War was over. After the revolution, the
Russian troops wblch had previously occupied northern lran
were withdrawn; but immediately afterward communist
heavals broke out in the lranian province of Gilan the
Caspian Sea, led the influential Kuchuk and supported
regular Russian units land and sea. The government sent
out troops against the rebels, but the bad1y disciplined and
poorly equipped lranian soldiers suffered defeat after defeat;
and the battalion in wblch Sergeant then nearly tifty years
old, was serving proved But when his unit
turned to flight after unlucky skirmish, Riza could hold
himself 10nger. stepped from the breaking ranks and
called out, for everyone to hear: <Why do you run away,
- you, lranians!' must have felt what Charles the
Twelfth of Sweden bad felt wounded the field of
Poltava and saw soldiers race in headless flight an(l ca1led
out to them with despairing voice: 'Why do you run away,
Swedes - you Swedes!' But the difference was that Charles
was bleeding from wounds and had nothing at his dis
posal his voice, while the soldier Riza was unhurt and
bad loaded Mauser pistol in his hand - and his voice was
strong and threatening as his comrades: "Vhoever
flees, 1 will shoot him down - even if it is brother!'
Such an outburst was something new to the lranian troops.
confusion gave way to astonishment.
curious: what could this have in mind? Some officers
tested and pointed out the hopelessness of their pO$ition; a-nd
of them scoffed: 'Will perhaps, lead us 10 vietory?' In
that sC('ond,' F.iza may have relived all disappointments of
PERSIAN 267
bis earlier and his dumb bopes were suddenly lighted
saw end of magic before him; and grasped
it. 'Accepted!' cried, and turned the soldiers: 'Will have .
as your leader 7'
In nation is the cult of the hero 50 deeply ingrained as
the Iranian; and this here seemed to hero. soldiers
forgot their and their flight and roared with jubilation:
our leader!' - '50 it,' replied Riza, '1 will lead
and 1 wi11 whosoever attempts to But
tbougbt 10nger of flight. threw away the
knapsacks, attached their bayonets to their rifles: and under
leadersblp the whole battalion turned round and
tured Russian in surprise assault, drew other Iranian .
with it, overran the - and after few hours the
battle was decided in favour of the lranians.
days later telegram from Tehran promoted to the
rank of and hecould now tbe title khan his
had got hold of the end of the and c)imbed it.
His had sudden1y famous. In quick succession
major, brigadier; In the year 1921 brought
about, in with the young joumalist ad-Din
three other officers, d'etat, arrested the cabinet
and, with the help of his devoted brigade, forced the weak and
insignificant young Shah Ahmad to appoint new cabinet: Zia
ad-Din Minister, Riza Minister ofWar.
could neither read nor write. But he was like demon in his
driveforpower. And hehad the idol ofthearmy and the
who now, for the fir5t time in ages, saw before
. them: leader. '
In the politica1 history of Iran scenes change quickly. Zia ad
Din disappeared from the stage and reappeared as an in
Europe. Riza remained - as Prime Minister. l! was
rumoured in Tehran in those days that Riza Zia ad-Din
and the Shah's younger brother, the Cro\vn Prince, had.
spired to remove the from the throne; and it \vas whispered
- nobody knows to this day whether it is true - that at the last
moment Riza had betrayed his friends to the in
order to risk own future in so dubious undertaking.
whether true not, afterward the Prime Ministcr
Riza - advised the Shah Ahmad to undcrt:!kc
268
pleasure trip to Europe. accompanied with great
the automobile journey to the border of Iraq and is said to
told him: 'Ifyour Majesty ever retums to will
to that Riza Khan understands nothing of the world.'
longer needed to share his power with was,
in fact if not in name, the sole overlord Iran. Like hungry
wolf, threw himself into work. All Iran was to reformed
from top to bottom. The hitherto 100se administration was
tralized; the old system out entire provinces to the
highest bidder was abolished; the govemors ceased to satraps
and officials. The army, the dictator's pet child, was
organized Westem patterns. Riza started campaigns
against unruly tribal ch.ieftains who had previously regarded
themselves as little kings and often refused to the
govemment; dealt harsbly with the bandits who for
decades had terrorized the countryside. Some order was brought
into the :finances the country with the assistance an
adviser; taxes and customs began to flow in regularly. Order
was brought out chaos.
As if echoing the Turkish Kemalist movement, tfte idea
republic emerged in Iran, :firstas rumour, then as demand
the more progressive elements the populace - and :finally as
the aim the dictator himself. But here Riza seems
to have committed error judgment: powerful cry
arose from the lranian masses.
popular opposition to republican tendencies was not due
to any 10ve the reigning house, for nobody in Iran had
affection for the Qajar dynasty wh.ich- because its Turkoman
- had always regarded as 'foreign'; nor was it due to
any sentimental predilection for the round. boyish Shah
Ahmad. It was something quite different: it was prompted the
people's fear losing their religion as the Turks had 10st theirs
in the wake Ataturk's revolution. In their ignorance, the
lranians did not understand at that republican form
would correspond much more closely to the Islamic
scheme than monarchial guided t'y the conser
vatism their religious leaders - and justi:fiably
frightened Riza obvious admiration of Kemal
Ataturk - the Iranians sensed in his proposal threat to
Islam as tbe in the country.
269 PI!It.SIA N
great excitement took hold of the population, espec
ially in furious with sticks and stones,
assembled before Riza building uttered curses
and threats against the dictator who yesterday
demigod. Riza Khan's aides urgently advised not to go
before the excitement subsided; but brushed them aside
only orderly entirely left
compound in closed carriage. As soon as the carriage
emerged from the gates, the seized the horses' reins and
brought them to standstill. Some people tore the carriage
- 'Drag him drag out into street!' But already
1Nas getting himself, his livid with rage, and began to
the heads and shoulders of those about him with bls riding
crop: sons of dogs, away from away! How dare 1
Riza Away to women your beds!' And the
raging crowd, which had threatening death and destruction
but few minutes ago, silent under the impact of his
personal courage; they drew back, melted away, and
disappeared in the side-alleys. again great leader had
spoken to his people; had spoken in anger, the people
were cowed. It at that that feeling of
contempt broke through Riza Khan's Iove for his people, and
clouded it forever.
But spite of Riza Khan's prestige success, the republic did
materialize. debacle of this plan made it ::>bvious that
power could not bring about movement'
in the face of the people's resistance. Not that the Iranians were
opposed toreform as such: but they instinctively realized that
imported, Western political doctrine would the of
of ever attaining to healthy development within the
text of their own culture and reIigion.
Riza did not understand this, then and thus
estranged from his people. Tlleir love for vanished and
fearful hatred gradually took its place. to ask
themselves: What has the hero reaHydone his country? They
Riza achievements: the reorganization of
the - but price of tremendous costs \vhich placed
crushing tax burdens the already impoverished people; the
suppressed - also the suppressed patriots:
showy bui1ding. activity in - ever-gro\..ing misery
270 ROAD
among the peasants in the countryside. OOgan to remem
that but fewyears ago Riza had soldier
and now hewas the richest in Iran, with innumerable acres
of land to his Were these the 'reforms' about which so
had spoken? Did the few glittering buildings in
Tehran and the luxury botels which had here and
there under the dictator's influence reaHy represent
ment of the people's 10t?
WAS STAGE of bls that 1 know
Riza Whatever the rumours about his personal ambition
and alleged selfishness, I could not faH to recognize the man's
greatness from the momcnt he first received in bls at the
War Ministry. It was probably the simplest officeoccupied
\vbere. at time, prime minister: adesk, sofa covered
with black oilcloth, of chairs, small bookshelf and
bright but modest carpet the :Ooor were that the room
tained; and the ta11, heavy-set in his middle fifties who rose
from bebind the desk was attired in khaki uniform with
out meda1s, ribbons badges of rank.
1 had introduced the Gerrnan Ambassador, Count
der Schulenburg (for although 1 was Austrian myself, I
presented great German newspaper). during that first,
formal conversation I aware ofthe sombre dynamism of
Khan's nature. From under grey, bushy brows pair of
sharp, brown regarded - Persian eyes that were usually
vei1ed lids: strange mixture of and hard
ness. were bitter lines around bls nose and mouth, but the
features betrayed power of wi1l
wblch kept the lips compressed and fil1ed the jaw with tension.
When listened to bls low and voice - the
voice accustomed to speak words ilnportance and to
weigh of them his tongue before it \vas permitted to 00
sound - thought were listening to with
thirty-year career of staff officer and blgh dignitary beblnd
and could hardly that it \vas six years since
Riza had sergeant. and only three since had
leamed to read \vrite.
m1ist sensed interest in him - and perhaps also
\
\
PERSIAN 271
affection for his people - for insisted that this interview
shoUld. the and aske? as welI as Schul to
tea next week at his at Shemran, the beautifuI
garden resort some miles out of Tehran.
1arranged with Schulenburg to first to (lik most
the other foreigl1 representatives, aIso was spending the sum
in Shemran) and to go together to the Prime Minis er's resi
dence. as it happened, 1 was arrive in ti few
days earlier 1 had purchased small four-wheeled ting
riage \vith two spirited horses. How spirited they wer
obvious few m.iles outside Tehran, when, foIlowing
wicked impulse, tlley obsiinately refused go and in
sisted returning about twenty minutes 1 trugg!ed
with il1 the 1 Iet Ibrahim take horses carriage
and stt foot in search some other means
of t\",O brought to 1
droshky, but when 1 arri..'ed at the
Embassy, it was about and half after the pointed
time. 1found Schulenburg pacing and dowl1 his stud like
angry tiger, with hi:.: suavitygone: for his
of discipline, such against
punctua1ity seemed less than blasphemy. At sig t
plodcd wjth indignation: \
- do that to minister! H\lve
forgotten that Riza Khan is dictator and, like
tremcly touchy?'
horses to have overlooked this fine point, Count
was on1y 'Even if it had the
Emperor of 1 would not have able to ar
earlier.'
At that the Count recovered his sense of humour and broke
out 10ud laughter:
God, such thing has never happened to beford! Let's
go tben - and that the footman doesn't slam the dloor in
our faces ....
did not. When we arrived at Khan's tea
party was ]ong and the other guests had depart d, but
the dictator did not in the least offended bre of
protocol, Upon hear.ng the reasons for our delay. imed'
'WeJI, 1 wouldlike to see these horses yours! 1 thin they
272 ROAD
must bel9ng to the opposition party. 1 don't know whether it
might wise to placed in poliee custody!'
If anything, contretemps rather helped tban hindered the
establishment of informal relationship between the
powerful Minister ofIran and theyoungjournalist, which
later made it possible for to move about the country
freedom greater than that accorded to rnost other foreigners.
does refer to the Riza of
those early days, the who lived with simplicity almost
believable in display-loving Iran: icrefers to Riza Shah Pablavi,
who ascended the Peacock in 1925; it refers to the king
who has given of humility and seeks to
emulate Ataturk in building vainglorious Western .
onto bis ancient Eastern land ...
1 to the end of the letter:
AltllOUgh belm'edfrie12d, 11011' in tlle blessed ofthe
Holy Prophel, trust notforgottelll1or 11!il/forget
friend and his ...
Agha, friend of younger days -'light of heart',
yourself would phrase it - your letter has made drunk
with Persia-drunk as 1 when 1 began to
know your country, that old, dimjewel set in setting ofancient
gold and cracked marble and dust and shadows - the shadows of
the days and nights of melancholy country and of the
dark, dreaming of people ...
1 still the first Iranian town 1sa\Vafter
1 left the mountains of Kurdistan. strange, faded, opaque
atmosphere lay about it, muffied, subdued - not to say shabby.
No doubt, in every Eastcm city poverty lies close to the surface,
visible than in city - but to that 1 \vas
already accustomed. It was not just pG1
/
erty in
sense whicll thrust itself sabl to
prosperous to'vn. It was rather kind of depression that lay
the pcople, something that was directly connected \vith
them and seemed to have hardly anything with economic
circumstances.
273 PERSIAN
All these people had large, black eyes under thick, black bro",s
that met over the bridge of the nose, weighted lids
like veils. Most of the wereslim (1 hardly remember having
seen fat in Iran); they never laughed aloud, and in their
silent smiles lurked faint irony which seemed to more
than it revealed. No mobility features, gesticulations.
quiet, measured movements: as if they wore masks.
As in Eastern cities, the life of the town was concentrated
in the bazaar. It revealed itself to the stranger as subdued mix
ture ofbrown, and carpet-red, with shimmering
per plates and basins here and there and perhaps blue majolica
painting over the door of caravanserai with figures of black
eyed knights and winged dragons. If looked careful1y,
could discover in this bazaar the colours of the world
but ofthese variegated colours could quite assert itself
in the unifying shadows ofthe vaults that covered the bazaar and
drew everything together into sleepy duskiness. pointed
arches the Vaulted roof were pierced at regular intervals
smal1 vpenings to let in the daylight. these openings the
rays of the sun in; in the aromatic air of the hal1s they gained
the quality of substance and resembled opaque, slanted pillars
of light; and not the people seemed to go tbrough them but they,
the shining pillars, seemed to go through the shadowy people ...
For the people in bazaar were gentle andsi1ent like
shadows. If trader called out to the passerby, did so in low
voice; of them praised hiswares with calls and songs, as is
the custom in bazaars. soft soles threaded its
way here. people did not elbow or shove one another.
were polite - with politeness which seemed to bend forward to
but in reality held at arm's length. were obviously
shrewd and did not mind starting conversation with the
stranger - but only their lips \vere talking. souls stood
somewhere in the background, waiting, weighing, detached ...
In teahouse some men of the working class sat straw mats
- perhaps artisans, labourers, caravan drivers - htldd1ed to
gether laround an iron basin fiUed with glowing coals. Two long
stemmf.d pipes with round porcelain bowls made the round.
sweetiShsmell of opium was in the smoked wordlessly;
took few deep draughts at passing the
pipe to his neighbour. And then 1 saw what 1 had not
s
274
served before: very people were smoking
some of them more and others less publicly. shopkeeper in
his niche; tbe 'oafer under the arched gateway of caravanserai;
the coppersmith in bis workshop during moment of respite:
they al1 were smoking with the same withdrawn. somewhat tired
face. gazing with dull eyes into spaceless void ...
Fresh. green poppies with thick buds were being sold ven
dors all over the and apparently consumed in tbls way
another, milder form of taking opium. Even were eating
the seeds in doorways and corners. Two, three of them would
divide the delicacy among themselves with old-age tolerance
toward without childish egoism - but also without
childish joy vivacity. But how could they other
wise? In their earliest life they were given brew of
seeds to drink whenever they cried bothered their parents.
When they grew and began to roam the streets, the border
lines of quietude. lassitude and kindness were already in
them.
And then 1 knew what had moved so 5trongly when 1 f1rst
beheld the melancholy eyes of the Iranians: the sign of tragic
destiny in them. 1 felt that the opium belonged to them in the
same way as suffering smile belong5 to the face ofa sufferer; it
belonged to their gentleness, to their lassitude - it
longed to theu great poverty and great frugality. It did not
seem to so vice as expression - and also help.
Help against what? Strange of questions ...
MIND DWELLS 80 LONG impressions of
sbah, the first Iranian city 1 to know, because those
pressions continued. in forms but always unchanged in
substance. throughout the and half that 1 remained in
Iran. 50ft, pervasive melancholy was the dominant note
where. 1t was perceptible in and towns. in the daily do
ings of the and in their religious festivals. 1ndeed.
their religious feeling itselt', so unlike that of the Arabs, bore
strong tinge of sadness mouming: to weep over the tragic
happenings ofthirteen centuries ago - to weep over the deaths of
Ali, the Prophet's son-in-law, and Ali's two sons, and
- 5eemed to them more important than to consider
275 PBRSIAN
what Islam stood for and what direction it wanted to give to
men's lives ...
. evenings, in towns, you could see groups of
and women assembled in street around wandering
dervish, religious mendicant clad-in white, with panther skin
his back, long-stemmed in his right hand and aIms
bowl carved from coconut in his left. would recite ha1f
sung, half-spoken ballad about strugg1es for succession to the
Caliphate that followed the death of the Prophet in the seventh
century - mournful tale of faith and blood and death - and it
would always run somewhat like this:
Listen, people, Ivhat God's ehosen andhow the
b/ood the Prophet's seed wasspi1led the earth.
Tlfere was whom Godhad likenedunto City
and the Gate to that City was (Ife most trusted and
valiant his /ollowers, IJis son-in-law Ali, Liglft the. Wor/d,
sharero/the Prophet's Message, ealledthe Lion o/God.
tlfeProphet passedaway, the Lion God his right
wieked usurped the Lion's G,od-ordained
right and made another the Prophet's khalifa; and after thefirst
usurper's death, his evil ilk succeeded and a/ter

And only a/ter the third usurper perished did the WiII God
manifest, and the Lion God attained to this rightful
place as Commander tlfe Faiihful.
Ali's and God's enemies were and day, when he
prostrated hisLord'n assassin's swordstruek
dead. Theearthshook;nanguish theb/asphemous deed, and
and the mountains wept and the stonesshed tears.
Oh, God's curse the eviJdoers, and everlasting
punishment consume tllem! .
And again anel'i/usurper to the anddeniedtheLiono/
God's sons, Hasan and Husayn, tlte;r
right success;on to tl,e Prophet's Ha'san was fou1/y
po;soned; and ;nde/enee the Eaith.hisbeau
tifulli/e was extingu;slled thefield Karbala as he kneJt down
Q o/\t-'ater to queneh his thirst a/ter thebattle.
Oh, God'scurse theev;ldoers, and angels'
forever water the saeredso;1
276 ROAD
head - the head the Prophet had kissed
was off and his Ileadless body was brought to the
tent where his weeping cllildren awaited their /ather's return.
A-nd ever since, the Faithful have God's curse
transgressors and wept over the deaths A-/i and and
and Faithful, ra;se voices in lament their
deaths - God/org;,'es the sins those who }veep for the Seed
the Prophet .
And the chanted ballad would bring forth passionate sobbing
from the listening women, while silent tears would over the
faces of bearded ...
Such extravagant 'laments' were far indeed from the
true, blstorical picture of those early happenings that had caused
never-healed schism in the world of Islam: the division of the
Mus1im community into Sunnites, who form the bulk of the
Mus1im peoples and stand the principle of elective
succession to the Caliphate, and the Shiites, who maintain that
the Prophet designated Ali. his son-in-Iaw, as his rightful heir
and successor. In reality, however, the Prophet died without
nominating whereupon of his oldest and most
faithful Abu was elected kllalifa the over
whelming majprity of the community. Bakr was succeeded
Umar and the latter Uthman; and after Uthman's
death was Ali elected to the Caliphate. was, as 1 knew
well even in Iranian days, nothing evil or wicked about Ali's
three predecessors. were undoubtedly the greatest and
noblest figures of Islamic history after the and ,had
manyyears his most intimate Companions; and they
were certainly not 'usurpers', having elected the people in
the free exercise of right accorded to them Islam. It was
nottheir assumption ofpower but ratherAli's and his
unwillingness to accept wholeheartedJy the results of those
lar elections that led to the subsequent struggles for power. to
Ali's death, and to the transformation - under the fifth Caliph,
Mu'awiyya- ofthe original, republican form ofthe Islamic State
into hereditary kingship, and, ultimately. to Husayn's death at
Karbala.
es, 1had known this before 1 to lran; but 1was
struck the boundless which that old, tragic tale of
217 PERSIAN
thirteen centuries ago could still among the Iranian
people whenever the of, Ali, Hasan or were
mentionOO. 1 began to wonder: Was it the innate melancholy
of the Iranians and their sense of the dramatic that had caused
them to the Shia doctrine? - or was it the tragic qual
ity of the latter's origin that had 100 to this intense I(anian

degrees, over number of months, startling answer took
in mind.
When, in tbe middle of the seventh century, the armies of
Caliph Umar the ancient Sasanian Empire, bringing
Islam with thern, Iran's Zoroastrian cult had already 10ng
rOOuced to rigid formalism and was thus unable to effec
tively the dynamic new idea that had from Arabia. But at
the time when the conquest burst it, Iran was passing
through period of social and intellectual ferment whicb
to promise regeneration. Tbis of inner,
organic revival was shattered the Arab invasion; and the
lranians, abandoning their own bistoric line of
henceforth accommodatOO themselves to the cultural and ethical
concepts that bad brought in from outside.
advent of Islam represented in Iran, in so cther
countries, tremendous social advance; it destroyed the old
Iranian caste system and brought into being new com.m.unity of
free, equal people; it opened new channels for cultural energies
tllat had 10ng "dormant and inarticulate: but witb this, the
proud descendants of Darius and Xerxes could never forget that
the bistorical continuity of their national the organic
nection between their Yesterday and Today, had suddenly
broken. whose innermost character had found its
pression in the baroque dualism of the zand religion and its
most pantheistic worship of the four elements - air, water, fi.re
and earth - was now faced with Islam's austere, uncompromising
monotheism and its passion for the Absolute. .transition was
too sharp and to allow the Iranians to subordinate tbeir
deeply rootOO national consciousness to the supranational
cept of Islam. spite of their speedy and apparent1y voluntary
acceptance of the new religion, they subconsciously equated the
vietory of tbe Is1amic idea witb lran's defeat; and the
feeling of having defeated irrevocably tomout of the
278 ROAD
context their ancient cultura1 heritage - feeling desperately
intense for its vagueness - was destined to their
national self-confidence for centuries to Unlike
other nations to whom the Islam gave almost
mcdiately most positive impulse further cultural develop
ment, lranians' first - in way, most durable - reaction
to it \vas deep humiliation and repressed resentment.
That resentment /lad to repressed smothered in the
dark folds the subconscious, for in the meantime Islam had .
Iran's faith. But in their hatred ofthe Arabian
quest, Iranians instinctively resorted to what psychoanalysis
describes as 'overcompen!ation': began regard the faith
brought to them their Arabian conquerors as sometblng that
was exclusively their own. did it subtly transforming the .
rational, unmystical God-consciousness the Arabs into its
very opposite: mystical fanaticism and sombre faith
which to the Arab was presence and reality and source
posure and freedom, evolved, in the mind. into dark
longing for the supernatural and symbolic. Islamic principle
of God's ungraspable transcendency was transfigured into the
mystical doctrine (for there were in
Islamic Iran) of God's physical manifestation in especially
chosen mortals who would transmit trus divine essence their
descendants. such espousal of Shia
trine offered welcome channel: for there could
doubt that the Shiite veneration, almost deification, Ali and
. bls deScendants concealed germ of idea of God's
and continual reincamation - idea entirely to
Islam but very close tc the Iranian heart.
Ithad accident that the Prophet Muhammad
without havll1g nominated successor and, indeed, refused to
nominate when suggestion to that effect was made shortly
beforehis death. his attitude intended to convey. firstly.
thatthespiritual quality ofProphethoQd \vas not something that
couldbe 'inherited', and, secondly. that the future leadership of
the cQmmuni1y should the outcome of free election. the
people themselves and the Prophet
(wblchwould naturally have implit'd m i..!.\ designatioo
successor); t1ius deliberatrly ruled the idea tbat the
community's leadership could e'ier anything but secu1ar or
279 PBRSIAN
could in the nature 'apostolic succession'. But this was
precisely what the Shia doctrine aimed It not only insisted
in clear to the spirit of Islam - the principle
apostolic succession, but that succession exclusively to
'the Prophet's seed', thatiS, to his cousin and son-in-law and
bis lineal descendants.
This was entirely in tune with the mystical inc1inations ihe
Iranians. But when they enthusiastically joined the of those
who claimed that Muhammad's spi:titual essence 1ived in Ali
and the latter's descendants, the Iranians did not merely satisfy
mystical desire: there was yet another, subconscious motivation
for their choice. If Ali was the rightful heir and successor of the
Prophet, the three who preceded must obviously
usurpers - and among had Umar, that
Umar had conquered lran! national hatred of the
conqueror of the Sasanian Empire could now rationalized in
terms :of religion - the religion that had Iran's
Umar had 'deprived' Ali and his sons Hasan and Husayn of
their divinely ordained right of succession to the Caliphate
Islam and, thus, had opposed the God; consequent
ly, in obedience to the wil1 God, AJi's party was to sup
ported. Out national antagonism, religious doctrine was

In the Iranian enthronement the Shia 1 discerned
mute protest against the Arabian conquest of Iran. Now 1 under
stood why the Iranians cursed Umar with hatred far more
bitter than that reserved for the other two 'usurpers',
and Uthman: from the doctrin<tl point of view, the first Caliph,
Bakr, should regarded the principal trans
gressor - but it was Umar who had conquered Iran ...
This, then, was the reason for the strange intensity with which
thc House Ali was venerated in Iran. Its cult represented
symbolic"act of revenge Arabian Islam stood
so uncompromisingly against the deification of per
sonality including that of Muhammad). True, the" S!lia doctrine
had not originated in Iran; there were Shiite groups in other
Muslim lands as weJl: but nowhere else had it achieved 50
plete hold over the people's emotions and imagination.
the gave passionate vent to their mourning over the
death5 of A1i, Hasan and they wept not merely over the
280 l\OAD
destruction of the House of Ali but also themselves and the
1055 of their ancient glory ...
.WERE MELA NCHOL people, th05e
melancholy was retlected in the Iranian landscape - in the
endless stretches of fallow land, the lonely mountain paths and
blghways, the widely scattered villages of mud houses, the fiocks
of sheep which were driven in the evening in waves
to the well. In the cities life dripped in slow, incessant drops, with
out industry or gaiety; everything seemed to shrouded in
dreamy vei1s, and face had look of indolent waiting.
heard in the streets. lf in the evening Tatar stable
broke into song in caravanserai, involuntarily pricked
one's ears in astonishment. Publicly only the dervishes
sang: and they always saq.g the same ancient, tragic ballads
about Hasan and Husayn. Death and tears wove around
those songs and went like heavy wine to the heads of the lis
teners. of sadness, but of willingly, almost greedily
accepted sadness, seemed to lie over these people.
summer evenings in could see and women
crouching motionless the watercourses that ran along both
sides of the streets under the shadow of the huge elm trees.
sat and stared into the fiowing water. did not talk to
another. to the gurgling of the water and let
the-rustling of the tree branches pass over their heads. Whenever
1 saw them 1 had to think of David's psalm: the
Babylon, there we sat Ive wept ...
the side of the watercourses like huge, dumb, dark
birds, lost in silent contemplation of the tlowing water. Were
they thinking long, long-drawn-out thought which belonged to
them, and to them alone? Were they waiting? .. for what?
And David sang: We hanged harps the in the
midst thereo/ . . .
-3
ZA YD, let us go' - and 1put Agha's letter into
pocket and rise to say good-bye to Az-Zughaybi. But shakes
rus head: .
281
PERSIAN
No. brother. let Zayd stay here with for while. If thou
art niggardly ( tell l I that has befallen ( during thcsc
past , let hint t the story in thy stead. Or dost (
think thy friends Jonger what happens to ( ? '

DAJJAL
-1
winding al1eys ofthe oldest of Medina:

house-wal1s of stone rooted in shadow, windows and

hanging over lanes that resemble gorges 5.0
narrow place5 that two people pass
other; and myselfbefore the grey stone ofthe library
built about hundred years ago Turkish scholar. In its
courtyard, bchind the forged bronze ofthe gate, inviting
silence. 1 cross the stone-flagged past the single that.
stands with motionless branches in its middle, and step into
domed lined \vith glas5-covered bookcases - thousand5 of
books, among them some of the rarest manuscripts
known to the Islamic \"orld. It is books like these that have given
glory to Islamic culture: glory has passed away like
wind of yesterday.
. As 1 look at these books in their tooled-Ieather covers, the dis
between the Muslim Yesterday Today strikc$
like painful blow .. , .
'What ails thee, son? Why this bitter look thy
1 turn tQward the voice - and behold, sitting the
tween the \\'indows, his knees, the
diminutive figure old friend, Shaykh Abdullah ibn
hid. sharp, ironical eyes greet \\'ith warm flicker as 1 kiss
his forehead and sit do\vn his side. is the greatest the
of Najd and, in spite .of
peculiar the Wahhabi outlook, ofthe keenest minds 1have
ever met in Muslim countries. His friendship has contri
buted greatly to making Hfe in and pleasant,
in Ibn Saud's kingdom his 'word counts than that of
other except the himself. closes his book with
snap and draws to blmself, looking at inquiringly.
'1 was thinking, Shaykh, how we Muslims have travelIed
from this' - and 1point to\vard the books the shclve:; -'to our
present misery and degradation.'
282
DAJJAL 283
soo,' answers the old 'we reaping what we
have sown. Onee we were great; and it was Islam that made us
great. We were the bearers of message. As long as we remained
faithful to that message, our hearts were inspired and mind5
but as as we forgot for what ends we had
chosen the Almighty, we We travelled far away from
tbls'- and the shayk/r repeats gesture toward the books
cause we travelled far away from what Prophet -
God bless and give - taught us thirteen centurics
ago .. .'
'And how goes work l' inquires after for
knows 1 engaged in studies connected with early Islamic
hi5tory.
'1 must confess, Shaykh, not well. 1 find rest in
heart do know why. And so 1 taken again to
wandering in the desert.'
Ibn Bu)aybld 100k5 with squinting those
wise, penetrating eyes - and twirls his. henna-dyed beard:
m.ind will haveits due and the body will its ... Thou
shouldst marry.'
1 of course, that in Najd marriage is
for almost sort oi" perplexity, so 1
hold back laughter:
, But; Shaykh, thou art well aware 1 married again
only two years ago, and this year has born 10
old 5hrugs his shoulders: 'If 's i5 rest
with his wife, stays as Thou dost not
stay ... And, moreover, it has never yet
hurt to wed second wife.' blmself, in spite of his
5eventy years, has three present, and 1 told
youngest whom married only couple of months ago, is
barely sixteen years old.)
'It I'rejoin, 'that it doesn't hurt take
second wife; but what ofthe first wife? Does her hurt matter
\
son: if woman holds the whole of her man's
will not think of, nor need, marrying another. But if his heart is
entirely with - will she gain anything keeping thus
half-heartedly herself alone l'
is certainly answer to that.Islam recnmmends, to
284 ROAD
single marriages, but allows to to four
wives under exceptional circumstances. One nlight ask why the
same latitude has not been given to woman as weU; but the
answer is simple. Notwithstanding the spiritual fact of 10vethat
has life in the course of man's development, the
undcrlying bi%gica/ reason for the urge is, in both sexes,
procreation: and while woman at conceive
child from and has to carry it for nine months
fore she is to another, is so constituted that
beget child time embraces woman. while
nature would merely wasteful produce
instinct in woman, man's undoubted polygamous ln
clination from nature's point ofview, biologieaHy justified. It
of course, that the biological factor is - and
means a1ways the most important - of the aspects of love:
the less, it is basic factor and, therefore, decisive in the
social institution of marriage as such. With the wisdom that
ways takes human into account, Islamic Law under
takes more the safeguarding the socio-biological
function (which includes, of for the
progeny as well), allowing to marry more than one
and not aUowing woman to than husband at
time; while the spiritual problem marriage, being impon
and thereCore outside the of law, is left to the
discretidn of the partners. Whenever 10veis and complete,
the question of1inother marriage natura:Ily does not arise for
either of them; whenever husband does not 10vehis with
Iill hisheart but still well enough not to want to 10seher,
.take another provided the first is agreeable to thus
sba!ing his affection; and if she cannot agree to tms, she
and is free to remarry. In case - since
in Islam is not sacrament but civil contract - re
to is always open to either of the marriage part
DeI'S, the so as the stigma elsewhere attaches to
divorce with greater or lesser intensity is absent in Muslim
society (with the possible exception the Indian Muslims, who
have influenced in this respect centuries of contact with
Hindu society, in wblch divorce is utterly forbidden).
. freedom wblch Islamic Law accords to both men and
women tocontract or dissolve marriage explains why it
DAJJAL 285
siders adultery of the most heinous of crimes: for in the face
of such latitude, emotional entanglement ever
excuse. lt is true that in the centuries of Muslim de
cline, social custom often made it difficult for woman to
prerogative of divorce freely as tl1e Law-Giver
had intended: for this, however, not Islam but custom is to
- just as custom, and not Islamic Law, i5 bIamed for
5eclu5ion in which woman has kept for so long in 50
Muslim countries: for neither in the in the life- .
example of the Prophet do we find warrant for this
which later found its way into Muslim society from Byzantium.
SHAYKH IBN INTERRUPTS introspection
knowing look: is need to hurry decision. It wi1f
. thee, whenever it is to
-2
LIBRARY 15 , the old sllaykll and 1 alone in
the domed From little mosque we hear the to
the prayer; and later the
the five minarets of the Prophet's Mosque which, now in
vi5ibIe to watch 50 501emnly and 50 fuH of sweet pride
the green mu'azzin ofthe minarets begins his
Allallu akbar ... in deep, dark, minor key, slowly as
cending and descending in long arcs of sound: God is tlle Great
God is lhe Greatest ... Before he finished this first
phrase, the the minaret nearest us in, in
5ligbtly higher ' .. the Greatest, God is tlle Greatest! And
while tbe third minaret the same chant grows slowly, the
first mu'azzin has already ended the first verse and begins - now
accompanied the distant contrapuntal sounds of the first
phrase from the fourth and fifth minaret5 - the 5econd ver5e: 1
that tllere is God God! - \\'hj)e the voices from
tbe second and tben from the third minaret glide down soft
wings: ... and 1 'Ii'itness that Mulrammad is God'_" Messenger!
In the same way, verse repeated twice of the
mu'azzins, the proceed5: to to
Hasten to e)'erlastil1g Iloppil1ess! Each of the voices seems
awaken the others and to d,'aw closer together. only
286
glide away itself and to take the melody at another point, tbus
carrying it to the closing verse: God is the Greatest, God is the
Greatest! is God but God!
This sonorous, solemn ming1ing and parting of voices is un
like other chant of And as heart pounds to
throat in excited love for this city and its sounds, 1 begin to (eel
that wanderings have always had but meaning: to
grasp the meamng of this ...
says Shaykh Ibn Bulayhid, 'Iet us go to thc mosquc
for the maghrib
HOL MOSQUE, Medina was brought
into its present shape in the middle of the last century, but parts
. of it older - some dating back to the time of the
Mamluk dynasty and some even earlier. The central
which contains the tomh of the Prophet, covers exactly the
ground as the building erected the third Caliph, Uth
in the seventh century. Over it rises large green cupola,
adomed its inner side with colourful ornamental painting.
rows of heavy columns support the roof and har
moniously divide the interior. marble ftoor is laid with costly
.carpets. Exquisitely wrought candelabras flank of
the three mi/zrabs, semicircular niches oriented toward
and decorated with de1icate faience tiles in blue and white:
of them is al\vays the place of the who leads the congre
gation in long chains hang hundred5 of glass
and crystal gIobes; at night they lighted'from smaU
lamps that fed with olive oil and spread 50ft 5himmer over
the rows praying peopIe. During the day greenish twilight
fills the mosque and makes it resemble the bottom of lakc; as
through water figures glide bare feet over the carpets
and matble slabs; as if separated walls ofwater the voice ofthe
iman at the time of the end of the large
muffl.ed and without
Prophet's tomb itself is invisible, for it is covered with
heavy brocade hangings and enclosed grill presented
in the fifteenth century the Egyptian Mamluk sultan, Qa'it
In reality, there is tomb structure as such, for thc Pro
phet was buried the earthen floor in the very room" of the
DAIJAL 287
little house in wblch he livoo and later times doorless
wal1 was built around the house, thus entirely sealing it off from
the outer worldJ During the rropheCs lifetime the mosque was
immediately adjaceilt to his in the course of centuries,
however, it was extended and beyond the tomb.
Long rows of rugs are spread over the gravel ofthe quad
.rang1e inside the mosque; rows of crouch them, reading
the Koran, oonversing with other, meditating simply
idling, in anticipation ofthe sunset Ibn Bulayhid seems to
lost in wordless prayer.
From the distance comes voice reciting, as always before the
sunset portion ofthe Holy Book. Today it is the ninety
sixth - the first ever revealed to Muhammad - beginning
with the words: Read in the thy Sustainer .. It was in
these words that God's call Cor the first to
mad in the of
had praying iri 50litude, as so often before, ptaying
for light and truth, when suddenly angel appeared before him
and commanded, 'Read!' And Muhammad, who, like of
the people of his environment, had learned to read and,
did not know what it was was expected to read,
answered: '1 cannot read.' Whereupon the angel took him and
pressed to himself50 that Muhammad felt strength leave
him; then released him and repeated his command: 'Read!'
And again Muhammad replied: '1 read.' the angeI
pressed him again until limp and thought
would die; and more the thundering voice: 'Read!'
And when, for the third tirne, Muhammad whispered in his
anguish, '1 cannot read ...' the angel released hirn and spoke:
Read in tlle thy Sustainer, Who created
- created germ-ce/l!
Read, and tllY Susta;ner is tlle most boulltiful:
who taught the use the
Taugllt \vhat he knew not ...
And thus, with allusion to man's cOn5ciousness, intellect
and knowledge, began revelation of the Koran, which was to
continue for twenty-three years untiJ Prophet's death in
at the age sixty-three. I
288 ROAD
story of his first experience of divine revelation reminds
in some ways, of Jacob's wrestling with the angel as narrated
in the Book ofGenesis. But whereas Jacob resisted, Muhammad
him5elf to the angel's embrace with awe and
until strength left and nothing remained in hirn but the>
ability to listen to V'oice of which . could longer say
whether it from without from within. did not know
yet that henceforth would to and empty at
and the being filled with urges and
desires and the of own - and, at the same
time, passive instrument for the reception of Message.
unseen book of Etemal Truth - the truth that alone gives
ing to all perceptiblethings and happenings - was being laid
bare before his heart, waiting to understood; and was told
to 'read' of it to the world 50 that other might under
stand 'what they knew not' and, indeed, could not kn{)W them
selves.
tremendous implications of this vision overwhelmed
like Moses before the burning bush, thought
himself unworthy of the exalted position of prophethood and
trembled at the thought that God might selected We
told that went back to town and to his and called
out to hiswife 'Wrap wrap for was
shaki,ng like branch in storm. And wrapped him in
. blanket, and gradually his trembling subsided. told her
what had to and said: 'Verily, 1 fear myself'.
But ,vith the clearsightedness that love give,
knew at that was afraid of the magnitude of the task
fore and she replied: 'No, God! Never will confer
task thee which thou art unable to perform, and never will
humiliate thee! For, behold, thou art good thou ful
thy duties toward thy kin, and 5upportest the weak, and
bringest gain to the destitute, and art generous toward the guest,
and helpest those in genuine distress.' comfort him, she took
her husband to Waraqa, leamed cousin ofhers who had
Christian for years and, according to tradition, could read
the Bible in Hebrew; at that time was old alld had 00
blind. And said: uncle's son, hark to this
thy kinsman!' And when Muhammad what had
experienced, Waraqa raised his in awe and said: was
DAJJAL '289
the Angel of Revelation, the whom God had to
earlier prophets. would 1 were young Would that 1
alive, a,nd to thee when thy people drive thee away!'
Whereupon Muhammad asked in astonishment: 'Why should
drive away?' And wise Waraqa replied: 'Yes, they
will. Never yet his people with the like thou hast
with but was persecuted.'
And persecute him they did, for thirteen years, untiI for
sook and went to Medina. For the Meccans had always
hard heart ...
UT, AFTER ALL, IS lT so difficult to understal1d the hard
ness heart most of the Meccans displayed when they first heard
Muhammad's Devoid of spirituaI urges, knew
practical endeavours: for they believed that lifecould widened
on1y widening the means which outward comfort might
increased. such people, the thought of having to surrender
themselves without moral claim - for
means, literaHy, 'self-surrender God'- well have seemed
In addition, the teaching Muhammad threatened
the established order of things and the tribal conventions 50 dear
to the Meccans. When started preaching the Oneness of God
and denounced idol worship as the supreme sin, they saw in it
not merely attack their traditional beliefs also
tempt to the social of their lives. In particular,
they did not like Islam's interference with what they regarded as
purely 'mundane' issues outside the purview of religion -like
economics, questions of socia;l equity, and people's behaviour in
general - for this interference did agree weH with their
business habits,. their licentiousness and their views about
tribal goOO. them, religion was personal matter - question
of attitude rather than of behaviour.
Now this was the exact opposite of what tbe Arabian Prophet
had in mind when spoke of religion. social practices
and institutions very within the orbit ofreligion, and
would surely have astonished if had told him .
that religion was matter of personal conscience alone and had
nothing to do with social behaviour. It was this feature of his .
message that,more than anything else, made it so distasteful
290 ROAD
the Had it not been for his interference with
social problems, their displeasure with the Prophet might well
less intense. Undoubtedly they \v()'uld have
noyed Islam in so far as its theology conflicted with their own
reJigious views; but most probably they \vould put with
it after some initial grumbling - just as they had put little
earlier, with the sporadic preaching of Christianity - if only the
Prophet had followed the of the Christian priests and
confined himselfto exhorting the to believe in God, to
to Him for salvation and to decently in their
sonal concerns. But did follow the Christian and
did not confine himself to questions of belief, ritual and
morality. How cou!d Did his God command to
pray: Lord, give tlle good o/tbls J..,orld J..,elJ the good
the Jvorld .
In very structure of this Koranic sentence, 'the good of this
world' is made to 'the good cf the world to firstly,
because the present precedes the future and, secondly, because
is so constituted that must seek the satisfaction his
physical, ,...orldly needs before listen to the of the
spirit and seek the good ofthe Hereafter. Muhammad's message
did not postulate spirituality as something divorced from or
posed to physicallife: it rested entirely the concept that spirit
and flesh but different aspects of and the same reality
life. In the nature things, therefore, could not
. tent himse!f \vith merely nursing moral attitude in. individual
persons but had to at r.ranslating this attitude into definite
social scheme whicll would ensure to every the
the greatest possible measure physical and material
well-being arid, thus, the greatest oppottunity for spiritual
growth.
began telling people that Actioll is /aitll: for God
is not merely concerned \vith person's beliefs but also ,vith his
or her doings - especia!ly such doings as aft"ect other people
sides preached, \vith the most flarrung imagl:ry that
God had put at his disposal, against the oppression the weak
the strong. propounded the unheard-of thesis that
and women \\'ere equa! before God and that religious duties
and hopes applir;Q to both alike; \vent so far as to de
clare, to the horror right-rninded pagan Meccans,
DAJJAL 291
woman was person in right, and merely virtue
relationship with as mother, sister, daughter,
and that, therefore, she was entitled to property, to do
business own and dispose own person in
riage! condemned games of and forms in
toxicants, in the words Great evil and
advantage;s;n them, the evil;s greater the advantage.
. top it stood up against the traditiona1 exploitation
against profits from loans, whatever the
rate of interest; against private monopolies and 'comers';
against other people's potential needs - tbing we
today 'speculation'; against judging right throuJh
lens of triba1 group sentiment - in modem parlance,
ionalism'. Indeed, denied morallegitimacy to triOOl feel
ings and considerations. In his eyes, only legitimate - is,
ethicalJy admissible - motive for groupment was
the accident of origin, but people's free, conscious
of common outlook life and scale
values.
In effect, the insisted thorough revision of
most the social concepts wblch until then had regarded
as and thus, as would say today, 'brought
religion into politics': quite revolutionary innovation in those
times.
rulers of were convinced, as most people at
times social conventions, habits of thought and
customs in wblch they had brought up were best that
could ever conceived. NaturalJy, therefore, they resented the.
Prophet's attempt bring religion into politics - that is, make
God-consciousness the starting point of social - and
it as immoral, seditious and 'opposed to canons of
propriety' ..And when it evident that was
dreamer but knew how inspire action, the defenders of
the estabIished order resorted to vigorous and
to persecute and his ...
In way another, prophets have challenged the 'estab
lished order' of their times; is it tbert:fore 50 surprising that al
most ofthem were persecuted,and ridiculed their kinsfolk '1
- and that latest of Muhammad, is ridiculed in the
West to this day?
292 ROAD

As AS the maghrib prayer is over, Shaykh Ibn Bulayhid
becomes the centre of attentive circle of Najdi beduins and
townsmen desirous of profiting from his learning and world
wisdom; wbllc himself is always eager to hear w}lat
him of their experiences and travels in distant
Long travels nothing among the Najdis; they
themselves ahl ofthe camel-saddle'-and
to of them the camel-saddle is indeed familiar than
bed at It must certainly more familiar to the
Harb beduin who has just finished recounting to the shaykh
what befell bls recentjoumey to Iraq, where has seen,
for the firsL - that is, Europeans (who owe
this designation to the Franks with whom the Arabs in
contact during the Crusades).
Shaykh, why is it that thefaral1jis al\vays wear hats
that shade their eyes? J-Iow they seethe sky?'
'That is just what they do want see,' replies s/laykh,
with twinkle in direction.'Perhaps they afraid lest
sight of the heavens remind them of God; and they do want
reminded of God weekdays ...'
We the young beduin is persistent in his search
for knowledge. is it God is so bountiful toward
and gives riches that denies Faithful?'
that is simple, son. worship gold, and so their
deity is in their pockets ... friend here,'- and plaees
bls hand knee -'knows more about thefaranjis 1do,
RJr them: God, glorified His has
led ou! of darkness into light of Islam.'
.!Is tliat so, brother?' asks eager beduin. 'ls it true
that farallji thyself?'- and when 1 nod,
wblspers, unto God, praise unto God, who
aright whomsoever \vishes ... Tell brother" why is it.
that faranjis are so urtmindful God ?'
is 10ng story,' 1 reply, 'and explained in
fe\v \vords. that 1 no\v is of
faranjis has the world of the Dajja/, Glittering,
Deceptive Hast ever heard of our Prophet's pre
diction that in latertimes ,most of the world's \vould fol
low the Do.jja/, believing him to God?'
DAJJAL 293
And as looks at with question in his 1recount,
the visibleapproval of Shaykh Ibn Butayhid, the prophecy about
of that apocalyptic being, the Dajja/, would
blind in but endowed with mysterious powers.con
ferred God. would hear with his ears what is
spoken in the farthest corners of the earth, and would see with
his one things that are happening in infin.ite distances;
would fly around the earth in days, would make treasures of
gold and silver suddenly from under ground, would cause
rain to and plants to grow at his command, would kill and
bring to life again: so that whose faith is weak would believe
him to God Himself and would prostrate themselves before
himjn adoration. But those whose faith is strong would
what is written in letters of flame his forehead: Denier ofGod
- and thus they would know that is but deception to test
man's faith ...
And while friend 100ks at with wide-open eyes
and murmurs, '1 take refugewith God,' 1turn to Ibn Bulayhid:
'Is not this'parable, Shaykh, fitting description of modern
technical civi1ization? It is "one-eyed": that is, it 100ks upon
only one side life - material progress - and is unaware its
spiritual side. With the help its mechanical marvels it enables
man to see and hear far beyond his natural ability, and to cover
.endless distances an inconceivable speed. Its scientific know
ledge causes "rain to fall and plants grow" and uncovers
suspected treasures beneath the ground. Its medicine brings
life to those who seem to doomed to death, its
wars and scientific horrors destroy life. And its material ad
vancement is so powerful and so glittering that the weak in faith
are coming to believe that it is godhead in its own right; but
those who remained conscious of their Creator clearly
recognize that to \vorship the Da.ua/ means deny God .. .'
'Thou art right, Muhammad, thou art right!' cries out Ibn
Bulayhid, excitedly striking knee. 'It has never occurred to
. to 100k upon the Dajja/ prophe-cy in this light; thou art
right! Instead realizing that man's advancement and the pro
gress science is bounty from our Lord, and more
people in their are beginning think that it is cnd in
itself and fit to worshipped.'
294
YES, 1 MYSELf, Western has truly given him
self up to the w6rship of the Dajjal. has lost in
inner integration with Life has
puzzle to him. is sceptical, and therefore isolated from his
brother and lonely within himself. In order not to perish in this
loneliness, must endeavour to dominate life outward
means. fact of being aHve itself, longer give
security: must always wrestle for it, with pain, from
moment to new moment. Because has lost metaphysical
orientation, and hasdecided to do without it, must continu
ously invent for himself mechanical a1lies: and thus the furious,
desperate drive ofhis technique. invents every day new
ines and gives ot' them something of his soul to make them
for his existence. they do indted; but at the same time
they create for ever new needs, dangers new fears - and
unquenchable thirst yet artificia1 allies. soul
loses itself in the ever bolder, ever fantastic, ever more
po\\'erful \vheelwork the creative and the machine
loses its true purpose - to protector and of
life - evolves into deity in its right, devouring
of steel. priests preachers th1s insatiable
deity do seem to aware tl18t the rapidity of modern tech
nical progress is result not only positive growth of know
ledge but also of spiritual despair, and that the grand material
achievements in the light of which Western proclaims his
to attain to mastery nature in their innermost, of
defensive character: behind their shining fa9ades lurks the fear
of the Unknown.
\Vcstern civilization has to strike harmonious .
balance bet\veen man's bodily and social needs and his spiritual
cravings; it has abandoned its erstwhile religious ethics without
being to produce out itself other system, how
ever tbeoretical, that \vould itself to reason. Despite
its advances in education, it has not to overcome
stupid readincss to faH to slogan, however
absurd, which clever dcmagogues think fit to invent. 1t has raised
the technique of 'organizatiol1' to fine art - and nevertheless
the nations the West daily demonstrate their inabiJity to
control the forces \vhich their scientists into being,
and have now reached stage \\'here apparently unbounded
DAJJAL 295
scientific possibilities go hand j .. 1tand with world-wide chaos.
Lacking truly religicus ation, the Westerner cannot
mora11y benefit th(, /lght of knowledge which his -
doubtedly great - is shedding. might appHed
the words of the
Tlleir is Ille people lit fire: }Vllen
it llOd its ligllt tllem, God took tlleir light and
in darkness Ivllicll tlley - deaf, dumb, hlind:
ond tlle)' do back.
Andyet, in the ."ogance of their blindness, the the .
\Vest convinced it is rlleircivilization that bring light
and happiness the ..vorld ... In the eighteenth and nineteenth
centuries they thougt:t of spreading the gospel of Christianity
over the world; but now that their religious ardour has cooled 50
much that consider religion more than soothing
ground music - allowed to but not to influence,
'real' life - they have begun to instead the materialistic
gospel of the 'Western way of life': the belief that
problems solved in laboratories and the
desk5 of statisticians.
And thus the Dajjal has into his own ...
-4
LONG TIME there is silence. Then the slzaykll speaks
again: 'Was it the realization ofwhat the Dajjal that made
thee embrace Islam,
'In 1 think, it must have but it was the last

'The kst step ... es: thou hast told the story of thy
way Islam - but when and how, exactly, did it first dawn
thee that Islam migl1t thy goat ..
'When? Let see ... 1 think it was day in
Afghanistan, when horse lost shoe and 1 hadto seek out
smith in viJIage that off path; and there told
"But thou art only thou dost not kno\v it thyself ..."
That was about eight months before 1 embraced Islam ... 1 was
my w3.y from Herat to .. .'
296 ROAD
1 WAS ON WAY fromHerat to Kabul and was riding.
companied Ibrahim and Afghan trooper, through the snow
buried mountain valleys and passes of the Hindu-Kush, in
tral Afghanistan. It was cold and the snow was glistening and
sides stood steep mountains in black and white.
1 was sad and, at the same time, strangely that day. 1
was sad because the people with whom 1 had living during
past fcw months seemed to separated opaque veilsfrom
the light and the strength and the growth which their faith could
have givcn them; and 1 was because the light and the
strength and the growth of that faith stood as near
eyes as the black and wblte mountains - almost to touched
wi1h the hand.
horse began to limp and sometblng clinked at its hoof:
iron shoe had 100se and was hanging only two nails.
6Is viJIage nearby wecould find smith ?' 1asked
Afghan
villageof Deh-zangi is less than league away. is
blacksmith there and the /lOkim ofthe Hazarajat has his castle
there.'
And so to Deh-zangi we rode over glistening snow, slowly, so
as to tire horse.
/rakim, districtgovemor, was young of short
stature and gay countenance - friendly who \vas glad to
foreign guest in the loneliness of his modest castle.
Though close relative of Amanullah, was of the
most unassuming 1 had met \vasever to meet in Afghan
istan. forced to stay with for two days.
Jn the evening the second day we sat down as usual to
opulent dinner, and afterward the villageentertained
us with ballad$ sung to the accompaniment of three-stringed
lute. sang in Pashtu - language which 1did not understand
- but the Persian words used sprang \jvidJy
against the background ofthe warm, carpeted room and cold
of snowthat through the windo\vs. sang. 1
of David's fight with Goliath - of the fight of
against brute power - and although 1 could not quite follow the
words of the song, Hs theme was clear to as it began in
humility, then rose in violent ascent passion to final.
triumphant
DAJJAL 291
When it ended, the hakim remarked: 'David was small,
faith was great .. .'.
1 could not prevent myselffromadding: 'And you
but your faith is small.'
host looked at with and, embarrassed
what 1 had almost involuntarily said, 1 rapidIy began to
plain myself. expIanation took the shape of torrent of
questions:
has it about that Muslims have lost your seIf
confidence - that you to
your faith, in less than hundred years, from Arabia
westward as far as the Atlantic and eastward deep into China
and now surrender yourselves 80 50 weakly, to the
thoughts and of the West '! Why can't whose
fathers ilIumined the world with science and art at time when
lay in deep barbarism and ignorance, summon forth the
courage to go back to your own progressive, radiant faith 1
is it that Ataturk, that masquerader who denics value to
IsIam, has to Muslims symbol of' "Muslim
vivial" l'
host remained speechIess. lt had started to sno\v outside.
Again 1 feIt that wave of mingled and happiness that I
had felt approaching Deh-Zangi. 1sensed the glory that had
and the shame that was enveloping these late sons of great
civilization.
- has it about that the faith your
phet and its clearness and simplicity has buried beneath
rubble steri1e speculation and the hair-splitting your
scholastics1 How has it happened that your princes and great
land-owners revel in wealth and luxury while 50 their
Muslim brethren subsi5t in unspeakable poverty and squalour
although your Prophet taught that No blmself
Faitliful eats bls filllll!lile bls /leighbour remainS/lungry?
make understand why brushed woman into the
background ofyour lives - although the'women around the Pro
phet and his Companions took part in so grand manner in the
Hfe their has it about that so you
Muslims are ignorant and so fe\v read and \vrite
although yopr Prophet declared that St/'Mng after kno\vledge is
most sacred duty Afllslim and thal
298 ROAD
superiority the leamed over the is like the
the \1:hen it is/ull overall other stars?'
Still host stared at without speaking, and 1 began to
think that outburst had deeply offended with
the lute, not understanding l iC>rsian well enough to fol1ow
looked in at the sight ofthe stranger who spoke
with so passion to the /lQkim. In the end, the latter pulled
his wide yellow sheepskin cloak closer about himself, as if feeling
cold; then whispered:
'But - are Muslim .. .'
1 laughed, and replied: 'No, ] not Muslim, but 1 have
to see so beauty in Islam that it makes sometimes
angry to watch waste it ... Forgive if 1 have
spoken harshly. ] did not speak as
But host shook his head. 'No, it is as 1 have said: are
Muslim, don't know it yourself ... Why don't
say, now and here, "There is God but God and Muhammad is
Prophet" and Muslim in fact, as already are in
heart 1 Say it brother say it now, and 1will go with to
morrow to and take to the amir, and will receive
with arms as us. will give houses and
gardens and cattle, and we \villlove Say it, brother ...'
'Jf 1 ever do say jt, it will because mind has set at
rest and for the sake the amir's houses and gardens.'
'But,' insisted, already know far more about Islam
than most of us; what is it that not yet understood l'
'11 is not question ofunderstanding. It is rather question of
being convinced: convinced that the Koran is really the word of
God and not merely the brilliant creation of great
mind .. .'
But the words of Afghan friend never really left in the
months that followed.
From 1 rode for weeks through southern Afgbanistan ..,.
through the ancient city Ghazni, from nearly thou..
sand years ago the great Mahmud set out his conquest of
India; through exotic Kandahar, where could see tbe fiercest
\varrior-tribesmen in the world; across the deserts of Afghan
istan's south\vestern and b:1ck to Herat, where
A[gl1an trek 11ad started.
It was in 1926, toward the end of the \vinter, that lleft Herat
DAJJAL 299
the first stage of homeward journey, wblch was to
take train from the Afghan border to Marv in Russian
Turkestan, to Samarkand, Bokhara and Tashkent, and thence
across the Turkoman steppes to the Urals and Moscow.
(and most lasting) impression of Soviet Russia -
the railway station of Marv - was beautifully executed
poster which depicted proletarian in overalls boot
ing ridiculous, white-bearded gentleman, clad in flowing robes,
of sky. Russial1 legend beneath the poster
read: 'Thus the workers ofthe Soviet Union kicked God
of his Issued the Bezbozhniki (Godless) Association
of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics.'
Such officially sanctioned antireligious propaganda obtruded
itself everywhere went: in public buildings, in the streets and,
preferably, in the vicinity of houses of worship. In Turkestan
these were, naturally, for the most part mosques. While prayer
congregations were explicity forbidden, the authorities diJ
everything to deter attending them. 1was often told,
especial1y in and Tashkent, that police spies would take
down the of person who entered mosque copies of
the were being impounded and destroyed; and favourite
pastime of the bezboz}lIliki was to throw heads of pigs in
to mosques; truly charming custom.
It was with feeling of reHefthat 1crossed the frontier
after weeks ofjoumeying through Asiatic and European Russia.
1went straight to Frankfurt and made in the now
familiar precincts of newspaper. It did not take long to
find out that during absence had famous,
and that 1 was now considered of the most outstanding
foreign correspondents of Central Europe. Some of articles
especially those dealing with the intricate religious psychology of
the Iranians - had to the attention ofprominent orientalist
scholars and received more than passing recognition. the
strength of this achievement, 1 was invited to series of
lectures Academy of Geopolitics in Berlin - where 1 was
told that it had never happened before that of (1
was yet 1wenty-six) had accorded such distinctioll.
Other articles of more general interest had reproduced, with
the permission of the Erankfurter Zeitung, other ne\vs
papers; oQe article, 1 learned, had been reprinted nearly thirty
300 ROAD
in Iranian wanderings had
fruitful ...
WAS that 1 married Elsa. two years 1
had a\vay [rom had not weakened our love but
rather strengthened it, and it was with happiness 1 had nevcr
felt before that 1brushed aside her apprehensions about the great
difference in our ages.
'But ho\v marry she argued. are not yet
twenty-six, and 1 over forty. 11Unk of it: when
thirty, 1 will forty:five; and when \vill forty, 1 will
old woman ...'
1 laughed; 'What does it matter? 1 cannot future
without
finally she gave in.
1 did not exaggerate when 1 said that 1 could not imagine
future without Elsa. beauty and her instinctive grace made
her so utterly attractive to that 1 could not even look at
other woman; and her sensitive understanding,of what 1 wanted
oflife illumined own hopes and desires made them
concrete, graspabIe than own thinking could ever have
done.
occasion - it must have about week after we
had married - she remarked: strange that of alJ
people, should depreciate mysticism in religion ... are
mystic yourself - sensuous kind of mystic, reaching out with
your fingertips toward the around seeing intricate,
mystical pattern in everyday things - in things that to
other people so commonplace ... the moment
turn to religion, brain. With most people it would
the other way around .. .'
EIsa \vas puzzled. She knew what 1 was search
ing for whcn 1 spoke to her of Islam; and although she not
have felt the same urgency as 1 did, her love made her share
quest.
Often we would read the Koran together and discuss its ideas;
and Elsa, like myself, more and more impressed the
inner cohesion between its moral teaching and its practical guid
Acc"rding to the Koran, God did not for blind sub
DAJJAL 301
servience tbe part of but ratber appealed to bis intellect;
not stand apart man's destiny but was nearerto
than tl,e vein in did not draw dividing line
tween faith and social behaviour; and, what was perhaps most
important, did not start from the that Hfe was
burdened with between matter and spirit and that tbe
way toward the Light demanded freeing of the soul from the
shackles of the form of life-denial and self-mortifi
cation had condemned the Propbet in sayings like
hold, is notfor us,and wor/d-renunciation in
will to live was not only recognized as
po5itive, fruitful in5tinct but was endowed with tbe sanctity of
etblcal as'well. was taught, in effect: not only
utilize your to the fuH, but are obligedto do 50.
integrated image of Islam was now emerging with
finality, decisivene5s that astounded It was
taking shape that could almost described as
kind of mental osmosis - tbat is, without conscious
to piece together and the fragments
of knowledge that had way during the past four years.
1 saw before something like perfect work of architecture,
witb its elements harmoniously conceived to complement and
support other, with notbing superfluous and notbing lack
ing - balance and composure wbich gave the feeling that
everytbing in the outlook and postulates of Islam was 'in its

Tbirteen centuries ago had stood and said, '1
only mortal but who has created the universe bid
den to His Message to In order that might
live in witb the plan of His ereation, Hehas
manded to remind His existence, <?mnipotence and
omniscience, and to place before programme ofbehaviour.
'If accept tbis reminder and this programme, follow
was the essence of Mubamrnad's prophetic mission:
social scheme propounded was ofthat simplicity wbich
goes onfy with real grandeur. 11 started from the pre
th?f men are biological beings with biological needs and are
80 condltioned tbeir Creator that they must 1ive in groups iti
order to satisfy tbe range of tbeir physical, moral and in
tellectual requirements-: inshort, tJl1ey are dependent
302 R.OAD
other. continuity of individual's rise in spiritual stature
(the fundamental objective ofevery religion) depends whether
is helped, encouraged and protected the people around him
- who, of course, expect the same co-operation from him.
was the reason why in Islam religion
could separated from economics politics. arrange
practical relations in such way that every individual
might find as few obstacles and as encouragement as
sibIe in the development of his personality: this, and nothing
else, appeared to the Islamic concept of the true function of
society. And so it was natural that the system which
Prophet Muhammad enunciated in the twenty-three years of bis
ministry related not only to matters spiritual but provided
framework foraH individual and social acitivity as weH. It held
out the concept not only of individual righteousness but also of
the equitabIe society wblch such righteousness should bring
about. It provided the outline of poHticalcommunity - the
only, because the details of man's political needs time
bound and therefore variable - as weH as scheme of individual
rights and social duties in which the fact of historical evolution
was dulyanticipated. Islamic code embraced life in its
aspects, moral and physical, individual and communal; prob
lems of the flesh and of mind, of sex and economics had,
side side with problems of theology and \vorship, their legiti
mate place in the Prophet's teach.ings, and nothing that
tained to life seemed too trivial to drawn into the orbit
religious thought- not even such 'mundane' issues as
merce, inheritance, property rights or ownership of land.
All the of Islamic Law were devised for the equal
benefit members ofthe community, without distinetion
birth, race, sex or previous social aHegiance. No special benefits
were reserved for community's founder or his descendants.
High and low were, in social sense, nonexistent terms; and
nonexistent was the concept of class. rights, duties
opportunities applied equally to \vho professed faith in
Islam. No priest was required to mediate between and God,
for knmvs }vhat lies in tlleir hands before them and }vhar
they conceal beblnd their backs. No loyalty wasrecognized
yond the loyalty to God and His Prophet, to one's parents, and
to the community that had its the God's
I
DAJJAL 303
kingdom carth; and tOO precluded that kind loyalty which
says, 'right or wrong, eountry' or elucidate
this principle, the Prophet pointedly said than
occasion: is us who proclaims tl,e triha[ parti
sa"ship; and /le is not us \\'ho fig!lts in the triha[ parti
sallsl,ip; and he is not us ,,'110 dies tl,e sake tribal parti

Before Islam, political organizations - those
theocratic semi-theoeratic basis - had limited the
narrow concepts oftribe and triba} homogeneity. the god
kings of ancient Egypt had thought beyond the zon ef the
Nile and its inhabitants, and in the early theocratic state
of Hebrews, when God was supposed to rule, it was
sarily the God of the Children of Israel. In the str
Koranie the other hand, eonsiderations of descent
tribal adherence had Islam postulated self-contained
political community which cut across the conventional divisions
oftribe and In tbls respeet, Islam and Christianity might
said to had the same aim: both advocated international
community of people united their adherence to common
ideal; but whereas Christianity had contented itselfwith
moral adv.ocacy oftbls principle and, advising its fo11owers to
give his due, had restricted its universal appeal to the
spiritual sphere, unfolded before the world the vision
political organization in which God-consciousness would the
mainspring of practical behaviour and the sole basis of
soeial institutions. - fulfil1ing what Christianity had left
unfulfi.l1ed - Islam inaugurated new chapter in the develop
ment of the first instance of ideoJogical society in
contrast with the closed, racial1y or geographical1y limited,
societies of th.e past.
message of Islam envisaged and brought to civiliza
tion in wblch there was for nationalism, 'vested in
terests', class divisions, Church, priesthocJ, heredi
tary nobility; in fact, hereditary functions at was
to establish theocracy with regard to God and democracy
tween 1nan. most important feature of that new
civilization - feature which set it entirely apart frcm other
movements in human history - was the faet that it had
ceived in terms of, and arose voluntary agreement ofthe

people concerned. socia1progress was not, as in all other
communities and civiJizations to bistory. result ofpres
sure and counterpressure conflieting interests, but part and
parcel original 'constitution. In other words, genuine
social contract lay at the root things: not as figure of speech
later generations power-holders in defence
their priviJeges, but as the real, historic source of Islamic civili
zation. Koran said: Behold, God has bought the Faith/ul
their persons and their possessions, o.ffering them Paradise in
. . . Rejoice, then,in the bargain have made,jor this ;s
the triumph supreme.
1 that this 'triumph supreme'- the instance real
social contract recorded OOtory..., was realized onIy during
short period; rather, during very short was
large-scalft attempt made to realize it. Less than century after
the Prophet's death, the political form ofpristine Islam began to
corrupted and, in the following centuries, the original
gramn1e was gradually pushed.into the background.
wranglings for power took the place free agreement of frec
and women; hereditary kingship, as inimica1to the political
oflslam as polytheism is to its theological concept, soon
into being - and with it, dynastic struggles and intrigues,
tribal preferences and oppressions, and the usual degradation of
religion to the status of handmaiden political power: in
short, the entire host 'vested interests' so well known to 00
tory. For the great thinkers oflslam tried to keep its true
ideology aloft and but those who after them were of
]esser stature and lapsed after two or three ce'nturies into
ass of intellectual ceased to think Cor themselves and
became content to repeat the dead phrases of earlier generations
- forgetting that every is time-bound and fallible
and therefore in need eternal renewa1. original impetus of
Islam, so tremendous in its beginnings, sufficed for while to
carry the Muslim commonwealth to great cultural heights - to
that splendid vision of scientific, literary and artistic achievement
which historians describe as the Golden Age oflslam; but within
few centuries this impetus died down for want of
spiritual nourishment, and Muslim civilization more and
more stagnant and devoid of creative power.
DAl1AL 305
1 HAD NO ILLUSIONS as to the present state of affairs in the
Mus1imworld. four years 1had spent in those countries had
shown that wblle Islam was still aHve, pereeptible in the
world-view of 1ts adherents and in their silent admission of its
ethieal themselves were 1ikepeople paralyzed,
to translate their beliefs into fruitful aetion. But what
cerned than the faHure of present-day Muslims to im
plement the scheme of Islam were the potentialities of that
itself. It was suffieient for to know that short
quite at the beginning of Islamic history, successful
tempt /lad made to translate that scheme into practice; and
wha. had seemed possible time might perhaps
really possibIe at another. What did it matter, 1told myself, that
the Muslims llad gone astray from the original teaching and sub
sided into indolence and ignorance? What did it matter that they
did not live to the ideal placed before the Arabial1
Prophet thirteen centuries ago - if the ideal itself lay to
all who were willing to listen to its message?
And it might well 1 thought, that we latecomers needed
that message even desperately than did the people
Muhammad's time. lived in environment muehsimpler
than and so their problems and diffieulties bad
easier of solution. world in which 1was living - the who!e of
it - was wobbling because of the absence of agreement as to
what is good and evil spiritually therefore, soeially and
nomieally as v.'ell. 1 did belieye that individual was in
of 'salvation': but 1 did believe that modern soeiety was in
need of salvation. More than previous time, 1 felt with
certainty, tbls time of ours was in need of ideo
logical basis for new soeial eontract: it needed faith that
would make us understand the hollowness of materia1 progress
for the sake of progress alone - and nevertheless wou1d give the
of tbls world its due; that would show us how to strike
balance between spiritual and physical requirements: and
thus save us from the disaster into whieh we were rushing head
long.
IT WOULD NOT too to say that at this period of
problem ofIslam - for it was problem to - occupied
u
306 ROAD
mind to the exclusion everytblng else. now absorp
tion had outgrown its initial stages, when it had more
intellectual intere5t in strange, if attractive, ideology
and culture: it had passionate search for truth.
pared \vith-tbls search, the adventurous excitement of the
last two years oftravel paJed into insignificance: so much 50 that
it difficult for to concentrate writing the new book
wblch the editor of the FrollkjuIter Zeitung was entitled 10
peet ofme.
At first Dr Simon viewed indulgently my-.obvious reluctance
to proceed with tbls book. Mter 1 had jU5t returned from
10ngjourney and deserved some sort of holiday; recent mar
riage seemed also to warrant respite from the routine
writing. But the holiday and the respite began to extend
yond what Dr Simon regarded as reasonabIe, suggested that 1
should now down to earth.
In retrospect, it seems to that was understanding;
but it did not so at the time. His frequent and urgent in
quiries about the progress book' had effect contrary to
what intended: 1felt myself unduly imposed upon; and I.be
gan to detest the very thought ofthe book. 1was more concerned
with what 1 had still to discover than with describing what 1 had
found so far.
In the end, Dr Simon made the exasperated '1
don't think will ever write this book. What ;uffering
is horror /ibri.'
Somewnat nettled, 1 replied: disease is more
serious than that. Perhaps 1 suffering scribendi.'
'Well, if you're suffering from that,' retorted sharply, 'do
think the Fronkfurtei Zeitwlg is the proper place for you l'
word led to another. and our disagreement grew into
quarre1. the same day 1resigned from the FrallkjuI'tei' Zeitung
and week later left with Elsa for Berlin.
1 did not, of course, intend to give up journalism, for, apart
from the comfortable livelihood and the pleasure (temporarily
marred 'the book') which writing gave it provided
with only means of returning to the Muslim world: and to
the Muslim \\'orld 1 wanted to at cost. But \vith the
reputation 1 had a,bleved over the past four years, it was not
difficultto make newpress connections. soon after break
DAJJAL 307
with Frankfurt, 1 conc]uded blghly satisfaetory agreements with
three other newspapers: the ZurcherZeilung of Zurich, the
Telegraa.f of Amsterdam and the KOlnische Zeitung of Cologne.
From now artic]es the Middle East were to
cated these three newspapcrs, wblch - though perhaps not
with the Frankfurter - were among the most
important in
the time being Elsa 1 settled down in where 1
intended to complete series of lectures at the Academy of
Geopolitics and also to Is]amic studies.
old literary friends were g]ad to see back, but somehow
it was not easy to take up the threads former relations at
the point they had left dangling when 1 went to the
Midd]e East. We had gfown estranged; we loflger spoke the
same intellectua] language. In from
friends cou]d 1 e]icit anytblng like understanding for
occupation with Islam. Almost to they shook their heads
in pozzlement when 1 tried to expiain them that Islam, as
inteHectual and social concept, cou]d favourabIy with .
other ideo]ogy. Although occasion they might concede
the reasonabIeness of this that Is]amic proposition, most of
them were ofthe opinion that the oId reIigion5 were thing ofthe
past, and that time demanded new,'humanistic'
But even those who didnot so sweepingly validity to in
stitutiona] reJigion were means disposed to give the
Westem notion that Islarn, being over]y concerned with
mundane matters, ]acked the 'myStique' which had right
to expect from reIigion.
It rather surprised to discover that the very aspect Islam
wblch had attracted in the first instance - the absence of
division of reality into physical and spiritual compartments and
the stress reason as way to faith - appealed 50 Iittle to in
teJlectua]s who otherwise were wont to claim for reason domi
nant role in Hfe: it was in the religious sphere alone that they in
stinctiveIy receded from their habituaIIy so 'rationaI" and 'real
istic' position. And tbls respect 1 could discem difference
whatever between those few of friends who were reJigious]y
inclined and the to whom reJigion had ceased to
than outmoded convention.
In time, however, 1 to understand where their difficuIty
308
lay. 1 began to perceive that in the eyes of people brought up
within the orbit of Christian thought - with its stress the
'supernatural' allegedly inherent in every true religious
- predominantly approach appeared to de
tract from religion's spiritual value. This attitude was
means confined to believing Christians. Because of Europe's
long, almost exclusive association with Christianity, even the
agnos'ic European had subconsciously to look upon
religicus experience through the lens of Christian concepts, and
would regard it as 'valid' on1y ifit was accompanied thrill of
numinous awe before things hidden and beyond intellectual
comprehension. Islam did not fulfill this requirement: it insisted
co-ordination of the physical and spiritual aspects of
perfectly naturaI plane. In fact, its world-view was so different
fromthe Christian, which most ofthe West's ethicaI
were based, that to accept the validity of the inescapabIy Ied
to questioning the validity of the other.
As for myself, 1 knew now that 1 was being driven to Islam;
but last hesitancy made postpone the final, irrevocabIe
step. thought of embracing Islam was 1ike the prospect of
venturing out onto bridge that spanned abyss between two
different worlds: bridge so long that would have to reach
the of retum before the other end visibIe. 1was
well aware that if 1 Muslim 1wpuld have to cut myself
off from the world in which 1had grown up. No other outcome
was possibIe. cou1dnot really follow the of Muhammad
and still maintain one's inner links with. society that was ruIed
diametrically opposed concepts. But - }vas Islam truly mes
sage God merely the )visdom great, but
?
ONE DAY - it was in September 1926- EIsa and 1 found our
se1ves travelIing in the Berlin subway. It \vasan upper-c1ass
partment. fell casually well-dressed opposite
apparentIy wellto-do businessman, with beautifuI brief
case his knees and Iarge diamond ring bls hand. 1
thought idly how well the port1yfigure of this man fitted into the
picture of prosperity \vhich one encountered everywhere in Cen
tral Europe in those days: prosperity the more prominent as it
DAJJAL 309
had after years of inflation. when economic life had
been topsy-turvy and shabbiness of appearance the rule..Most of
the people were now we11 dressed and we11 fed. and the
opposite was therefore exception. But when 1 looked at
his face. 1 did not seem to looking at face.
peared to worried: and not merely \vorried but acute}y
with staring vacantly ahead and the comers of his
mouth drawn in as if in pain - but not in bodily pain. Not wallt
ing I1umed eyesaway and sawnext to lady
of some elegance. She also had strangely unhappy expression
her face, as if contemplating or experiencing sometblng that
caused her nevertheless, her mouth was fixed in the' sti1T
semblance of smile wblch, 1was certain, 'must have habit
ual. And then 1began to look around at the other faces in the
compartment - faces belonging without exception to we11
dressed, we11-fed people: and in almost every of them 1could
discem expression of hidden suffering, so hidden that the
owner of the face seemed to quite unaware of it.
was indeedstrange. 1had never before seen so
happy facesaround or was it perhaps that 1had never before
looked for what was now so loudly speaking in them? im
pression was so strong that 1 mentioned it to Elsa; and she too
began to look around her with the careful eyes of painter
customed to study features. she turned to
and said: ou are right. They look as though
they were suffering torments of ... 1 wonder. do they know
themselves what is going in them?'
1 knew that they did not - for otherwise they could not go
wasting their lives as they did, without faith in binding
truths, without goal beyond the desire to raise their 'own
'standard of living', without any other than having more
material amenities, more gadgets, and perhaps more power ...
When wereturned home, 1 happened to glance at desk
wblch lay of the Koran 1 had reading
Mechanically, 1 picked the book up put it a\vay. 1
was about to close it, the
and 1 read:
obsessed greed for and
Until godoMm 10 gra,es.
310 ROAn
but wil/ to know!
but will to knoK'!
if but kneJv it \vith the kn()w/edge
would indeed the hell in.
/n indeed. 3/1011 it \vith the
And that Day asked K'/lat /lave dol:e
\vith the /ife.
For moment 1 was speechless. 1 think the book shook in
hands. 1 handed it to Elsa. 'Read this. Is it not answer
to what we saw in the subway?'
It was answer: answer so decisive that all doubt was sud
denly at end. 1 knew now, beyond doubt, that it was
God-inspire<\ book 1 was holding in hand: for although it
had placed beforeman over thirteen centuries ago, it clearly
anticipated something that could have true only in this
comp1icated, mechanized, age of ours.
At times people had known greed: but at time before
this had greed outgrown mere eagerness to acquire things and
obsession that blurred the sight of everything else:
irresistible craving to get, to do, to contrive more and more
more today than yesterday, and more tomorrow than today:
demoJ} riding the necks of and whipping their hearts for
toward goals that tauntingly g1itter in the distance but dis
solve contemptible nothingness as soon as they reached,
always holding out the promise of Ilew goals ahead - goals still
more brilJiant, more tempting as 10ng as they lie the
and bound to wither into further nothingness as soon as they
within grasp: and that hunger, insatiable hunger for
ever new goals gnawing at man's soul: Nay, ifyou but it
\j'ould see the Jlell ill ...
1 saw, was oot the mere human wisdom of of
distant past in distant Arabia. However wise have
such could not himself have foreseert the t<Jrment so
peculi'ar to this twentieth century. Out of tht: Koran spoke
voice greater than the voice of Muhammad ...
-5
DARKNESS HAS FALLEN over the cOU1"tyard ofthc Prophet's
Mosque, broken through only the oi11amps which are sus
pcndcd long chains bet\veen the pillars oft11e arcadcs. Shaykh
DAJJAL 311
AbduUahibn Bulayhid sits with bls head sunk low over his chest
and his closed. who does not ,kno\v n1ight think
that has asleep; but 1know that has listening to
narrative with deep absorption, trying to fit it into the
pattern of his own wide of and theirhearts. After
long'while raises his head and opens his eyes:
'And then? And what didst thou do then?'
obvious thil1g, Shaykh. 1sought out Muslim friend.of
mine, lndian who was at that time head of tl1e small
community in Berlin, and told that 1 wanted to embrace
Islam. stretched out his right hand toward ar.d 1 placed
mine in it and, in the oftwo witnesses, declared: "1 bear
\vitness that there is God but God and that Muhammad is
His Messenger."* few weeks later wife did the same.'
'And what did thy people say to that?'
'Well, they did not like it. When 1 informed father that 1
had Muslim, did not answer letter. Some
months later sister wrote, telling that considered
dead ... 1sent another letter, assuring that
of Islam did not change anything m attitude
toward or love for that,.on the Islam
upon to love and honour parents other
people ... But this letter also remained unanswered.'
father must indeed strongly attached to his religion...
'No, Shaykh, is and that js the strangest part of the
sto]:)'. considers 1 think, renegade, so much from
his faith -(for tl1at has never held strongly) as from the
munity in whichhe grew up and the culture to which is
attached.'
'And has thou never seen since?'
'No. soon after our conversion, wife and 1 left
Europe; we could not bear to remain there longer. And 1
never gone back ...'t
This declaralion faith is only 'ritual' necessary 10. Muslim. In
Islam, terms 'Messenger' and 'Prophet' are interchangeable when applied
major Prophets bearing new like Jesus, MQ5eS, Abra

t Our relalionship was reswned in ]935, aCter had lasl 10
understand apprecia.te reasons Cor my conversion lslam. Although we
never again in person, we remained in cODtinuous correspondence unlill942,
when he and sister were deported Crom Vienna Nazis and subsequently
died in coocentration

JIHAD
-1
1 LEA VING the Prophet's Mosque, hand grips
mine: and as 1tum head, 1 meet the kind old of
Sidi Muhammad az-Zuwayy, the Sanusi. .
]\
how glad 1 am see thee after these
months. God bless thy step in the bIessed City of the
Prophet .. .'
Hand in hand, we walk slowly over the cobbled street leading
from the to the main bazaar. his \vhite North African
Sidi Muhammad is familiar figure in Medina, where
has 1ivingfor years; and people interrupt our progress
to greet with the respect due only to his seventy years
but also to his as of the leaders of Libya's heroic fight
for independence.
'1 want thee to know, son, that Sayyid Ahmad is in
Medina. is not in good health, and it \vould give much
pleasure to see thee. How long wilt thou remain here?'
until the day after tomorrow,' 1 reply, 'but 1 shall
tainiy not leave \vithout seeing Sayyid Ahmad. J..et us go to
now.'
In the whole of Arabia there is whom 1 love better
Sayyid Ahmad, for there is who has sacrificed
self so wholly and so se1flessly for ideal. scholar and war
has devoted his entire life the spiritual revival of the
Muslim comrnunity and to its struggle for political independence,
knowing well that the brought about w"ithout the
other. .
How well 1 first meeting \vith Sayyid Ahmad.
ago, in ...
the north the Holy City rises Mount Abu Qubays, the
centre of ancient legends and traditions. From its summit,
cro\\'ned small. \Vhite\vashed mosque with two 10wminarets.
is wondet'ful view down into the ofMecca with the
312
313
I
square ofthe Mosque ofthe at its and the colour
ful. 100se amphitheatre of houses climbing the naked. rocky
s10pes sidts. little bel()w the sumimit of Mount Abu
Qubays. ofstone buildings hangs bver narrow terraces
cluster of eag1es' nests: the seat of the Sanusi
Fraternity. old whom 1 met therei- exile to whom
ways to his in Cyrenaica were after tblrty years'
fight and his seven-year odyssey between thb Sea andthe
mountains ofYemen - bore famous the
Iimworld: Sayyid Ahmad, the Grand Sanusi
f
No other had
caused so sleepless night to the rulers of North
not even that of the great Abd of Algeria in the
nineteenthcentury, or ofthe Moroccan al-Karim who had
been so powerful thom in the side Qfthe in more recent
days. Those however unforgettable to the Muslims. had
political import - whi1eSayyid and his Order had
for years great spiritual as well.
1 was introduced to him friend Hajji Agos
Salim. who held position of leadersblp in lndonesia's struggle
for political emancipation and had tol pilgrim
age. When Sayyid Ahmad lcamed that 1 recentconvert to
Islam. stretched out his hand toward and 5aid gently:
'Welcome amongthy young ofmine .. .'
Suffering was engraved the beautiful: brow of the aging
fighter for faith and freedom. His face, withlits.little grey beard
and sensua1ly-shrewd mouth between was tired;
lids heavily overthe eyes and made drowsy
the tone ofhis voice as 50ft and weighted witJJ. 50rrow. But some
times it flared up in eyes assumed g1ittering sharp
ness. the voice grew into resonance. and ou! of the folds of bls
white an rose like an eag1e's
Heir to an idea and mission wblch. had i( reached fulfilment,
might have brought about renascence of rnodern Islam: even
in the decay of age and illness and in the brd1kdown of his life's
work. the North had not lost hts glow. hadthe
right not to despair; knew that the after religious and
political revival in the true spirit of Islam - ,vblch was wllat the
Sanusi movement stood for - couId never wiped out the
hearts the Muslim peopIes. 1 ..
I
314
WAS SAYYID AHMAD's GRANDFATHER. the great AI
-gerian scholar Muhammad ibn A1i as-$anusi (thus sumamed
after the of Banu Sanus, to which he belonged), who in the
fjrst h8lf of the century conceived the idea of Islamic frater
nity which might pave the way to the of truly
Islamic commonwealth. After years wandering and studying
in Arao lands, ibn AIi founded the first
zawiya, lodge, of the Sanusi Order at Mount Abu Qubays in
and rapidly gained strong following among the beduins
ofthe Hijaz. did not remain in however, but returned
to North Africa, ultimately to sett1eat Jaghbub, oasis in the
desert .between Cyrenaica and Egypt, from where his message
spread like lightning 811 over Libya and far beyond. When
died in 1859, the Sanusi (as members ofthe Order to
known) held sway over vast state stretching from the shores of
the Mediterranean deep equatorial Africa and into the
country of the Tuareg in the AIgerian Sahara..
term 'state' does not precisely describe this unique
tion, for the Grand Sanusi never aimed at establishing persona1
rule for himself for his descendants: what \vanted was to
organ.izational basis for amoral, social and political
of Islam. In accordance with this aim, did notblng to
upset the traditional tribal structure of the region, nor did
cha1lenge tbe nominal suzerainty over Libya of the Turkish
Sultan - whom continued to as the Caliph of Islam
- but devoted his efforts to educating tbe beduins in the
tenets of Islam, from wblch they had deviated in the past, and to
bringing about among them that consciousness of brotherhood
which had envisaged Koran but had largely
obIiterated centuries of feuding. From the
zawiyas which had sprung up over North Africa. the Sanusi
carried their message to tbe remotest tribes and wrougbt witbln
few decades almost miraculous cbange among Arabs and
alike: old intertribal gradually subsided,
and the unruly warriors of the desert irnbued with
bitherto unknown spirit of co-operation. In tbe zawiyas their
children received education - not in the teachings of Islam
but also in practical arts and crafts that previously had
disdained the warlike nomads. were induced to
dri1l and better weJls in areas' which for centuries had lain
315
barren. Sanusi guidance prosperous plantations
gaD to dot tbe Trade was and the
gendered the S8nusi made ua.vd in where .in
past years could In short. the in
fiuenc:e of the. Ord was powerful st1muJus to civilization and
progress, strict orthodaxyrai:Jedthe moral standards of
the new far anyt!1ing wblch that part of the
wodd had ever Abost the tribes and
their chiet\ains accepted the spiritualleadership of the
Grand in Libya's coastaJ
found. tbatthellil.Qt.al authomy the Order made it vast1y
easier them to deatwith 50 'difficult' beduin tribes.
whifethcOlderconcentrated its progressive
.regeneratiou 0f1fIe its influence in
aImost from actual governmental pOwer.
power rested the Order's ability to rouse the sim.ple
beduins and the Tuareg of North Africa out of their erstwhile
sterile in religious, to fill them with desire to
live truly in the spirit Islam and to give them the feeling that
all of them were working for freedom, dignity and
bJdtherhood..Never the of the Prophet had there
anywhere in the Muslim world large-scale movement as closely
approximating the Islamic way of life as that of the Sanusi.
1bis peaceful era was shattered in the last quarter of the nine
teenth century, when France to southward from
intoequatorialAfrica, and to occupy, step step,
gi0DS that had beelLindependent. UItdCr the spiritual
the founder's
son and successor, Mul1amma,d al-Mahdi, was forced"to take to
thc sword and was never to it down. 10ng struggle
W8S true Islamj.cjihod - war of self-defence, thus defined
the Fight in qfGodagainst those fight against
bu! do yourselves aggressors,./or, Goddoes
aggressors .. Fight against is 110 looger
worship God. if desist,
hostilitysho/l ...
But the French did not desist; they carried their tricolour
their bayonets deeper deeper into Muslim lands.
,When Muhammad al-Mahdi died in 1902, his nephew Sayyid
followed him in the leadership -af the Order. From the
316
age of nineteen, during his and later when
himselfbecame Grand Sanusi, was engaged in the fight
against French encroachment in what is now French Equatorial
Africa. When the Italians invaded Tripolitania and Cyrenaica in
1911, found himselffighting two fronts; and this new and
irnrnediate pressure forced to transfer his main atten
tion to the north. Side side with the and, after the latter
abandoned Libya, alone, Sayyid Ahmad and his Sanusi muja
hidin- as these fighters for freedom ca11ed themselves - waged
war against the invaders with such success, that in spite of their
superior armaments and numbers, the ltalians could keep only
precarious foothold in few coastal towns.
British, then solidly entrenched in Egypt and obviously
too anxious to see the ltalians expand into the interior of
North Africa, were not hostile to the Sanusi. neutral atti
tude was of to the Otder since the supplies
of the from Egypt,\vhere they enjoyed the sym
pathy of practically the whole population. It is quite probable
that tbls British neutrality wouId in the long enabled
the Sanusi to drive the Italians entirely out of Cyrenaica. But in
1915Turkeyentered the Great War theside and
the Ottoman Sultan, as Caliph of Is1an1, called the Grand
Sanusi to assist the Turks attacking the British in Egypt.
British, naturally than ever concerned about safeguarding
the of their Egyptian possession, urged Sayyid Ahmad to
neutral. In exchange for his neutrality, they were
pared to accord political recognition to theSanusi Order in
Libya, and to cede to it some the Egyptian oases in the
Westem Desert.
Had Sayyid Ahmad accepted this otrer, would only
followed what sense categorically demanded. did not
owe particular loyalty to the Turks, who had signed away
Lihya to the Italians some years earlier, the Sanusi to
fight alone; the British had not committed act ofhostility
against the Sanusi but, the contrary, had allowed them to re
ceive supplies from Egypt - and Egypt was their sole of
supply. Moreover, the Berlin-inspired 'jihad' which the Ottoman
Sultan had proclaimed certain1y did not fulfill the requirements
laid do\vn the Koran: the Turks \vere not fighting in self
defence but rat1J.er hadjoined non-Muslim power in aggres
317
war. Thus, religious and political considerations alike
pointed to course alone for theGrand Sanusi: to keep out of
war which was not his. Several of the most influential Sanusi
leaders - friend Sidi Muhammad az-Zuwayy among them
advisOO Sayyid Ahrnad to neutral. But his quixotic sense
of chivalry toward the Caliph of Islam finally outweighOO the
.dictates of reason and induced him to make the wrong decision:
11e declarOO himself for the Turks and attacked the British in the
Westem Desert.
conflict of conscience andits eventual outcome were the
tragic as in the case Sayyid Ahmad there was not merely
question of personalloss but also, possibly, of doing
harm to the great cause to which whole and
the lives two generations had devotOO.
him as 1 do, there is doubt in mind that was
prompted most unselfish motive - the desire to safeguard
the unity the Muslim world; but 1 as little doubt that,
from political point view, his decision was the worst
could made. waging war against the British,
without realizing it at time, the entire future
the Sanusi Order.
From then was forced to fight three fronts: in the
north against the Italians, in the southwest against the French,
and in the east against the British. In the beginning met with
some success. British, hard pressed
advance toward the Suez Canal, evacuated the oases in the
Western Desert, which were immediately occupiOO Sayyid
Ahmad. F1ying Sanusi columns mountOO dromedaries, JOO
Muhammad az-Zuwayy (who in his wisdom had so strongly 0;>
posed this venture), penetrated to the vicinity of Cairo. At that
moment, however, the fortunes of war suddenly shiftOO: the
swift advance of the German-Turkish army was halted in the
Sinai Peninsula and turned into retreat. Shortly thereafter, the
British counterattacked the Sanusi in the Westem Desert.
occupied the frontier oases and wells, and thus cut off the
supply route of the muja/lidill. interior of Cyrenaica could
not alone nourish population engaged in life-and-death
struggle; and the few German and Austrian submarines that
secretly arms and ammunition brought than
token heIp.
318 ROAD
1917Sayyid Ahmadwas persuaded byhis Turkish advisen
.to submarine to Istanbul there more
effective support. left, entrusted the leadership
the Order in to his cousin, Sayyid Muhammad al
Idris. more conciliatory disposition tl18n Sayyid
Ahmad, Idris almost at attempted to to terms with
the British aod the Ita1ians. British - who I18d disliked the
conflict with the Sanusi from the very - readiIy agreed
to make and they exerted pressure the Italians to do
the same. Short1y afterward, Sayyid Idris was recog
nized the Italian government as ofthe Sanusi', and was
. to maintain precarious quasi independence in the interior
ofCyrenaica unti11922. When it obvious, however, that
the Italians did not rea11y to abide their agreements but
were bent subjecting the entire country to their rule, Sayyid
Idris, in protest, left for Egypt at the beginning 1923, handing
over leadership the Sanqsi to trusted old follower, Umar
al-Mukhtar. anticipated breach of agreements the
Jtalians followed a1most immediately, and the war in Cyrenaica
was resumed.
Meanwhile in Turkey, Sayyid Ahmad with disappoint
ment after disappointment. It had his intention to retum to
Cyrenaica as soon as hehad achieved hispurpose;. but the
pose was never achieved: For, in Istanbul. strange intrigues
forced to delay his retum from week to week, from month
to month. It would a1most that the circles around the
Sultan did not rea11y desire the Sanusi to succeed. had
a1ways fearfullest day the resurgent Arabs try to regain
the leadership of the Muslim world; victory tht Sanusi
wou1d of necessity heralded such resurgence
made the Grand Sanusi, whose fame was almost legendary
in Turkey, the obvious successor to the Caliphate. him
self had such ambitions did not assuage the suspicions of the
High Porte; and although was1treated with utmost respect
and honours due to his position, Sayyid Ahmad was politely
but effectively dctained in Turkey. Ottoman breakdown in
1918 and the subsequent occupation of Istanbul the Al1ies
signa11ed the end his misplaced hopes - apd at the same time
closed avenues of retum to Cyrenaica.
Libya 1952.
OPPOSITE: The Grand Sanusi
JIHAD 319
But the urge work for cause of Muslim unity did not
allow Sayyid Ahmad remain. inactive. As the Allied troops
were landing at Istanbul, he crossed over Asia Minor join
- then still known as Mustafa Kemal - who had
just begun organize the Turkish resistance in the of
Anatolia.
should remember that, in the beginning, the heroic
struggle of Kemal's stood in the sign of Islam, and that it
was religious enthusiasm alone that gave the Turkish nation in
those grim days the strength fight against the overwhelming
power ofthe Greeks, who were backed the resources ofthe
Allies.
Placing hisgreat spiritual and moral authority in the service of
Turk.ishcause, Sayyid Ahmad travel1edtirelesslythrough the
towns and villages of Anatolia, calling upon the people
port G/zQzi, or 'Defender Faith', Mustafa Kemal.
Grand Sanusi's efforts and the lustre ofhis contributed im
measurably to the success of Kemalist movement among the
simplc of Anatolia, 10 whom nationalist slogans meant
nothing, but who for countless generations had deemed it
privilege lay down their lives for Islam.
But here again the Grand Sanusi had comrtlitted of
judgment - not with regard Turk.ish whose
ligious fervour did Iead victory against
times stronger, but with regard intentions of their leader:
for sooner had Ghazi attained to victory than it
obvious that his real aims differed widely from what his people
had led expect. Instead of basing hissociaJ revolution
revived and reinvigorated Islam, Ataturk forsook the spiritual
of religion (which had brought him victory) and
made, quite unnecessarily, rejection of alllslamic values the
basis of his reforms. Unnecessarily from Ataturk's view
point: for he could easily harnessed tremendous re
ligious enthusiasm of his people .to positive drive for progress
without cutting them adrift from all that had shaped their cul
ture and made them great race.
In bitter disappointment with Ataturk's anti-Islamic reforms,
Sayyid Ahmad withdrew completely from political activity
Turkey and fina11y, in 1923, left for Damascus. There, in spite of
his opposition Ataturk's internal policies, tried to serve tlle
OPPOSITB: Su/ubbi
320 ROAD
cause of Muslim unity attempting to persuade the Syrians to
reunite with Turkey. The French mandatory governmel1t viewed
him, naturally, with utmost distrust and when, toward the end
1924, his friends leamed that his arrest was imminent, he es
caped across the desert to the frontier of Najd and thence
proceeded to where he was received \varmly Ibn
Saud.
-2
HOW ARE tbe mlljahidin faring, Sidi Muhammad l' 1
ask - for 1have without news f'rom Cyrenaica for nearly
year.
round, wblte-bearded ofSidi Muhammad az-Zuwayy
darkens: 'The news is good, son. figbting bas
ended some months ago. The mujabldil1 have broken; the
Iast bullet has been spent. Now God's mercy stands
tween our and the vengeance of their
sors .. .'
what about Sayyid Idris?'
'Sayyid Idris,' repIies Sidi Muhammad with sigh, 'Sayyid
Idris is stiII in Egypt, powerless, waiting - for what ? is good
God bIess but warrior. lives with his books,
and the sword does not sit weI1 in his hand .. .'
Umar al-Mukhtar - surely did not surrender? Did
to Egypt1'
Sidi Muhammad stops in his.tracks and stares at in aston
ishment: 'Umar ... ? So thou hast not heard that?'
'Heard what l'
50n,' says gently, 'Sidi Umar, God mercy
has dead for nearly year .. .'
Umar - dead ... That Iion of Cyrenaica, whose
seventy-odd years did not prevent from fighting, to the Iast,
for his country's freedom:dead ... For ten Iong, grim years
was the soul of bls pcople's resistance against hopeless odds
against ltaIian armies ten times more numerous than bls
armies equipped with ibe most modern weapons, armoured
cars, aeroplanes and - while Umar and his half-starved
mujahidin had nothing but rifles and few horses with wblch to
wage desperate guerri11a warfarein country that had been
tumed into huge prison ...
JIHAD 321
1 bardly trust own voice as 1say: 'For last year and
half, ever 1retumed fromCyrenaica, 1have known that he
and his were doomed. How 1 tried to persuade to
treat into Egypt with the remnants of the mujallidil1, 50 that he
might remain alive for his ... and how calmly brushed
aside attempts at persuasion, that death, and
nothing but death, awaited him in Cyrenaica: and now, after
hundred battles, that long-waiting death has at last caught
with him ... tell when did
Muhammad az-Zuwayy shakes his head slowly; ar.d as we
emerge from the narrow bazaar street into the dark
square of AI-Manakha, tells
did not faH in battle. was wounded and captured alive.
And tben tbe ltalians ki11ed him ... hanged him like
tblef .. .'
how could they!' 1 exclaim. 'Not even Graziani would
dare to do such terrible thing!'
did, did,' replies, with wry smile. was
General Graziani himself who ordered him hanged: Sidi
Umar and score of his were deep in Italian-held territory
when they decided to their respects to thc tomb of Sidi
Rafi, the Prophet's Companion, which was in the vicinity. Some
how the ltalians learned of his and sealed otf the valley
both sides with There was way to escape. Sidi
Umar and the mujahidill defended themseIves until only and
two others remained alive. At lRst his horse was shot dead under
and, in falling, pinned him to the ground. the old
continued firing his rifle until bullet shattered of his hands;
and tben continued firing with the other hand until his
munition ran out. they got hold of and carried him,
bOund, to Suluq. There was brought before General Graziani,
who asked "What wouldst thou say if the Halian govern
ment, in its great would thee to live? Art thou
prepared to promise that thou \vilt spend thy remaining years in
Sidi Umar replied: "1 shall not cease to fight
and thy people until either leave country or 1 leave
life. And 1swear tothee Him who knows what is in men's
hearts that if hands were not bound this moment, 1
\vould fight theewith bare hands, old and broken as 1 ... "
General Graziani laugbed and givc the order that
322 ROAD 1"0
Sidi Umar hanged in the market ofSuluq; which they
did. And they herded together thousands of Muslim
and women from the camps in which they were imprisoned and
forced them to witness the hanging of their leader .....
-3
HAND IN HAND, Muhammad az-Zuwayy and 1
ceed in the direction of the Sanusi za}v;ya. Darkness ties over the
vast/square, and the noises the bazaar behind.
sand crunches under our sanda:ls. Here and there group of
resting Ioad-camels discemed, and the of
the distant periphery the square shows the
sky. It reminds of the fringe of distant forest
like those forests the of Cyrenaica where 1
first Sidi Umar al-Mukhtar= and the of
that fruitless joumey wells with its tragic
flavour of and danger and death. 1 see the.sombre face
of Sidi Umar bent over small, flickering fire and hear his
husky, solemn voice: ,'We to fight for our faith and our
freedom until we drive the invaders away or die ourselves ...
We other choice ....
WAS STRANGE MISSION that brought to Cyrenaica
in the late January of 1931. Some months earlier - to precise,
in the autumn of 1930- the Grand Sanusi to 1.
spent hours in his and MUhammad az-Zuwayy's 00
cussing the desperate straits of the mujahidin who were carrying
the strugg1e in Cyrenaica under the leadership Umar
al-Mukhtar. It was evident that unless they received quick and
effective from outside, they would not to last out
much 10nger.
situation in Cyrenaica was rough1y this: the towns
the coast and several points in the northern part of the Jabal
Akhdar - the 'Green Mountains' of central Cyrenaica - were
the Italians. Between these fortified points thcy
. ed continuous patrols witb armoured cars and
siderable numbers of infantry, mostly Eritrean askal'is, sup-
ltalian chivalrY took place 16September, 1931.
323
ported air squadron which made frequent sorties the
countryside. beduins (who 'constituted the of the
resistanee) were unable to without being spotted
mediately and strafed from the air. It often happened that
connaissanee plane reported the presenee of tribal
wireless to the nearest post; and while the guns
of plane prevented the people from -dispersing, few
annoured cars would driving straight through tents,
camels and people, indiscriminately killing everyone within
range - women, cblldren and cattle; and whatever people
and animals survived v.'ere herded together and driven north
ward into the huge barbed-wire enclosures which the Italians
bad established the coast. At that time, toward the end of
1930, about eighty thousand beduins, together with several
dred thousand head of cattle, were herded together into
wblch did not provide sufficient nourishment for quarter of
their number; in result, the death rate among and beast was
appalling. In addition to this, the erecting barbed
barrier along the Egyptian from the coast
ward to order to make it impossible for the guerrillas
to obtain supplieS from Egypt. valiant Maghariba tribe
under their indomitable chieftain, - Umar al
Mukhtar's right-hand - were still putting stiff resis
tanee the westem coast of Cyrenaica, but most of tribe
had already overwhelmed the superior numbers and
equipment of the Italians. Deep in the south, the Zuwayya tribe,
100 ninety-year-old Karayyim, were still fighting desper
ately despite the loss oftheir tribal centre, the Ja1uoases. Hunger
and disease were decimating the beduin population in the in
terior.
All the fighting forces which Sidi Umar could deploy at an:y
amounted to hardlymore than thousand
however, was not entirely due to lack of kind of guer
rilla warfare wblch the mujallidin were waging did not favour
large groupments of warriors but depended rather the speed
and mobility of small striking forces wblch would suddenly
pear out of nowhere, attack Italian column or outpost,
ture its arms and disperse without traee into the tang1edjuniper
forests and broken-up wadis of the Cyrenaican plateau.
such small bands, however brave and death-despising, .could
324 ROAD
never win decisivc victory over an who commanded al
most unlimited resources of and annaments was obvious.
question was. therefore. how to increase the strength the
mujahidin so as 10 them oot to infiict sporadic losses
the invaders. but 10 wrest from them the positions in which
they wereentrenched and hold those positions in the face of
newedenemyattacks.
Such an increase of strength depeaded several
steady ofbadly food supplies Egypt;
weapons with wblch to the onslaughts of aeroplanes and
cars - especially antitartk rit1es and machine
guns; trained technical personnel to employ such weapons and
to instruct the mujahidin in their and.lastly. the establish
ment of reliable wireless communications between the
groups ofmujahidin in Cyrenaicaand secret supplydepots with
in territory.
For about week. evening after evening. the Grand Sanusi.
Sidi Muhammad and 1held council what might done. Sidi
Muhammad expressed the that occasional reinforc
ment ofthe mujahidin in Cyrenaicawou1d not solvethe problem.
It was his belief that the oasis of Kufra. far to the south in the
Desert. which had the headquarters of the
Order under Sayyid Ahmad, should made the focal
point ofall futurewarfare: for Kufra wasstill beyondthereach of
ltaliao troops. It the direct (if very and
difficu1t) route to the Egyptian of and
Farafra, and therefore could more effectively provisiooed
than other point in the country. It could also made
ral1ying for thc thousands Cyrcnaican refugees
who were 1iving in camps in and thus steady rc
servoir manpower for Sidi Umars guerrilla forces in thc
. Properly fortified and equipped with modcm weapons.
Kufra could hold off 10w-flying aircraft,
whi1e from grea.t would not really endanger
such wide1y dispersed group of scttlcn1ents.
Grand suggested that if such reorganizatioo of
the strugsle were possible. himsclf would return to Kufra to
direct futurc operations from there. 1, for part, insisted that
the success of such it was imperative for Sayyid
Ahmad to re-establishgood relatioDs with the British. whom
JlHAD 325
had so bitterly, and so unnecessari1y, antagonized his attack
them in 1915. Such improvement ofrelations might not
impossible, for Britain was not happy about Italy's
pansionist mood, especially now that Mussolini was trumpeting
to all the world his intention of 're-establishing the Roman
pire' both shores of the Mediterranean, and was casting
covetous glances Egypt as well.
deep interest in the fate of the Sanusi was due not only to
admiration of the extreme heroism in righteous cause;
what concemed more.was the possible of
Sanusi victory the world as Whole. Like so other
Muslims, 1 had for years pinned hQpes Ibn Saud as the
potentialleader of Islamic revival; and now that these hopes
had proved futi1e, 1 could see in the Muslim world
one movement that gcnuinely strove for the fulfi1ment oft11e
ideal of Islamic society: the Sanusi movement, now fighting
last-ditch battle for sUfvival.
And it was because Sayyid Ahmad knew how intensely
own wcre involved with the Sanusi cause that now
tumed to and, into eyes, asked:
'Wouldst thou, Muhammad, go to Cyrenaica behalf
and find what could done for the mujahidin ?Perhaps thou
\\ilt to see things \vith clearer eyes than ...'
1 looked at him and nodded, without word. Although 1
was aware of his confidence and, not complctely
surprised bls suggestion, it nevertheless took breath away.
prospect of adventure of such m.agnitude exhilarated
beyond words; but what thri11ed was the thought
being able to contribute something to the cause for which so
other had given their lives.
Sayyid Ahmad reached toward shelf his head and
drew out of the Koran wrapped in si1kencloth. Placing
it his knees, took right hand between both of his and
laid it the
'Swear, Muhanunad, who lrnows what is in the
hearts of that thou wilt always faith with the
Jridin .. .'
1 took the oath; and never in life 1 surer wllat
Ipledged than at that moment.
326 ROAD
MISSION SAYYID AHMAD entrusted to
quir!:d secrecy. Since relations with the Grand
werewell known and could not have the notice
of tbe foreign missions in Jidda. it was not advisab1e to travel
to Egypt and run the risk ofbeing trailed there. recent
ofthe intrigues behind FaysaI ad-Dawishs rebellion
hadlcertainly not standing with the British, and it
wasi too probab1e that they would watch closely from
the 1 set foot Egyptian soi1. We decided. therefore,
even going to Egypt should kept in the dark. 1would
the Red Sea in of those sailing sblps and land
sunjeptitiously, witbout passport visa. at some
coast of Upper Egypt. In Egypt 1would to move
at>qut freely in tbe of townsman, for the
and Medinese who went there in pursuit of trade in
of prospective pilgrims were familiar sigbt in Egyptian
tOv..lnS and vi11ages - as 1 spoke the dialect with per
ease, 1 could pass anywhere for native of of the two
HoJy Cities.
Several weeks of preparation were required to complete the
arr.ngements wblch involved secret exchanges of letters with
SidIUmar in Cyrenaica as well as with Sanusi contacts in Egypt;
and s9 it was on1y in the first week of January 1931, that zayd
anq 1 made our way out of the port-town of to
litt1e-frequented part of the shore. It was moon1ess night, and
over the uneven path in sandals was most unpleasant.
when 1stumb1ed, the butt of the Luger pistol tueked under
kaftan struck ribs; and tbis brought vividly to
the dangerous nature of the adventure wblch I was
barking.
Here 1 was, walking toward rendezvous with obscure
skipper who was to take in his dhowacross the sea
andland secret1y the Egyptian coast. 1 no
parers with which cou1d identity and 50, if1were
ca$ght in Egypt, it would not easy matter to prove who 1
But even the risk spending few weeks in Egyptian
jaiJ was nothing as compared with the dangers that farther
1would have to make across the entire width of
tht Westem Desert, avoiding detection Italian spotter planes
possib1y a1s0 armoured c:ar patrols, into the heart of
,
JlHAD 327
country in which only weapons spoke. wh was 1doing this? - 1
myself. .
Atthough danger was not unknown to 1'had never sought
it out for the sake of possible thri11. Wh never 1 had gone into
it, it was always in response to urges, .ous unconscious,
\ connected in very personal way with m own life. what
about the present undertaking? Did 1 real believethat
tervention could turn the tide in favour of the muja!lidin? 1
wanted to'believe it: but in innermost knew that 1 was set
ting out quiJIotic errand. why, n Go<!'s was 1
risk.ing life as 1 had never risked it and with so little
promise ahead? '
But the was there before the q:ttion was even
sciously formulated.
When 1had know Islam and pted it as way of
life, 1 11ad thought that questionin and searching had
to end. Only gradual1y, very gr ually, did 1
aware that this ,was not the end: for to ept way of life as
binding for oneself was, to at least, i xtricably bound up
with desire to pursue it among like-min ed people - and not
to pursue it in personal sensebut also to work for its social
fruition within the community ofmy choi . Islam was
way and not end - and the desperate g errillas of Umar
Mukhtar were fighting with their lifebloo for the to .
tread that way, just as the Companions i:>f Prophet had done
thirteen centuries ago. of help to th m in their hard and
struggle, however uncertaiil the tcome, was as per
sona11y necessary to as to pray . . . .
And there was the shQre. In the 50ft swel of the wavelets that
lapped again5t the pebbles rocked the row at that was to take
us to the ship anchored in the dark dista beyond. As the
solitary oarsman rose from the waiting , 1 turned to zayd ,:
'Zayd, brother, dost thou know that are going into
venture \vhich prove more threatening thee.and than
of Ad-Dawish's put together? thou not look
back with yearning to the of Medina and thy friends?'
way is way, uncle,' rep ied. 'And ha5t thou
not told thyself that water which otionIe5s becomes
5tale and foul? Let us go - and the ter run until- itbe
comes clear .. "
328 ROAD
ship was those large, clumsy dhows which ply
around the coasts Arabia: built entirely of wood, smelling of
dried fishand seaweed, with high two Latin-rigged masts
and large, low--ceilinged between them.
skipper, was wizened old Arab uscat. smaH, beady
eyes that peered at frOm beneath the folds of
multicoloured turban wary expression that spoke oflong
ycars spent in illicit hazards and adventures; and the curvcd,
silver-encrusted dagger his sash did seem to

'Marllaba, marhaba, friends!' cried as we clam
bered aboard. is hour of good augury!'
How times, 1 mused, had given the same hearty
\\'eJcome to poor I,ajj;s .whom surreptitiously took board in
Egypt and, \vithout further thougbt to their w"elfare, landed
thc coasts of tbe Hijaz, so that they might avoid paying the
pi1grimage \vhicb the Saudi government had imposed
those who \vish to make the pilgrimage to the House of God ?
And how times had used exactly these words to the .
slave traders \... in sharp violation of the Law of Islam, had
captured some wretched Ethiopians to seH in the slave markets
ofYemen? But then, 1consoled myself, the
ra;s must have gained - however questionabIe its background
could only to our advantage: for knew his way around the
Red Sea as other did, and could relied to set
us safe shore.
FOUR NIGHTS after we had embarked the
dho}\', were landed, again in the smaH rowboat, north the
port of Qusayr the coast of Upper Egypt. our astonish
. ment. the ra;s refused to accept payment, 'for,' said with
grin, '1 paid masters. God \vith
As 1 had expected, it \vas not difficult to make ourselves in
conspicuous in Qusayr, the town was accustomed to seeing
in garb. the moming after our arrival booked
seats in ramshackle bus bound for As-Siyut the Nile; and.
sand\viched between alarmingly fat woman who carried
basket of chickens her vast lap and old fellah who,
observing attire, immed1ately started reminiscing
J1HAD 329
about the hajj he had ten years earlier, zayd and 1
started the first stage of our African joumey.
1 had always thoughtthat engaged in asurreptitious
and risky uhdertaking waS bound to feel as though were tbe
object suspicion the part everyone encountered, and
that disguise could easily seen through. But, strangely
enough, 1did not have that feeling now. During past years in
Arabia 1 had entered the life of its people so fuHy that somehow
it did not occur to to regard myself as anything but of
them; and although 1 had never shared the peculiar business in
terests of the Meccans and Medinese, 1 now felt so entirely at
in role ofpilgrim tout that 1promptlybecame involved
in almost 'professiorial' discussi.oil with several other passen
gers the virtues of performing the hajj. Zayd feH into thc spirit
of the game with great zest, and so the first hours our journey
were spent in lively conversation.
After changing to train at As-Siyut, we finaHy arrived at the
smaH town of Bani Suef and went straight to the house of our
Sanusi contact, Ismail adh-Dh.ibi - short, stout of
countenance, speaking the resonant Arabic of Upper Egypt.
ing only cloth.ier of moderate was not of the
notables of the town; but his aHegiance to the Sanusi Order had
proved occasions, and his personal devotion to
Sayyid Ahmad made doubly trustworthy. Although the
hour was late, aroused servant to meal for us, and
while we \vaited for it, recounted the arrangements had
made.
First of 00 receipt of Sayyid Ahniad's mes
sage, had contacted member of the Egyptian
royal family who for years had ardent and active
supporter of the Sanusi cause. Princewas apprised of
the purpose of had readily consented to place the
necessary funds at disposal and also to provide mounts and
two reliable guides for the desert journey to the Cyrenaican
border. At this moment, our host informed us, they were await
ing us in of the orchards outside Bani Suef.
Zayd and '1 now discarded our Hijazi dress, which would
arouse too curiosity the Western Desert routes. In its
place \vewere provided with cotton trousers and tunics of North
African cut as as \vith such are worn in
330 ROAD
westem Egypt and Libya. From the basement ofhis house Ismail
produced two short cavalry of ltalian pattern - 'for it
will easier to replenish for this kind of rifle
among the mujabldin.'
the following night, guided our host, we made our way
out the town. Our two guides proved to beduins from the
Egyptian tribe of Awlad among whom the Sanusi had
supporters; of them, Abdullah, was vivacious young
who had participated year earlier in the fighting in Cyrenaica
and could thus give us good deal ofinformation about what we
might there. other, whose 1 have forgotten, was
gaunt, morose fellow who spoke rarely but showed
selfno less trustworthy than the more personable Abdullah.
four camels they had '"vith them - strong, speedy dromedaries of
Bisharin breed - had obviously chosen for their quality;
they carried saddles not different from those to whicll 1
had accustomed in Arabia. As we were to move rapidly,
without long halts, cooked food would out of the question
most of the way; consequently, our provisions were simple:
large bagful of dates and smaller bag fi11ed to bursting with
hard, sweetened biscuits made of coarse wheat flour and dates;
and three of the camels had waterskins attached to their saddles.
Shortly before midnight, Ismail embraced us and invoked
God's blessing our enterprise; 1 couldsee that was deeply
moved. With Abdullah leading, we left the palm orchard behind
us and soon, under the light of bright ambled at brisk
over the gravelly desert plain toward the northwest.
Owing to the necessity of avoiding encounter with the
Egyptian Frontier Administration - \vhose cars and camel
mounted constabulary might, for we knew, patrol this part of
the Western Desert - we took care to keep as far as possible
from the main caravan tracks; but as almost bet\veen
Bahriyya and the Ni1evalley \vent via Fayyum, far to the north,
the risk was not too great.
During the first night out we covered abotlt thirty miles and
stopped for the day in clump of tamarisk bushes; the
second and following rughts we did better, so that before
dawn ofthe fourth day we arrived at the rim ofthe deep depres
sion within which lay the oasis of
While we encamped under cover of some boulders outside the
JIHAD
oasis - wblch consisted ofseveral separate sett1ements and plan
tations, the chief of them being the village of Bawiti - Abdullah
made bls way foot down the steep, rbcky incline into the
palm-covered depression to seek out contact at Bawiti.
would not to before nightfall, and so we lay
down sleep in the shadow of the rocks; pleasant rest after
the strain and coJd of our night-long ride. NevertheJess, 1did not
sleep for too ideas occupied mind.
Ruminating plans, it seemed to that it would not
too difficult to maintain permanent line of communications
Suef and even large caravans wou1d
1 was eertain, to proceed undetected between these
points jfsufficient was taken. Despite tIie fact that Frontier
Administration post was situated at Bawiti (we cou1d see its
wblte buildings from blding above the oasis), it might
be-possible to establish secret wireless transmitter in of the
isolated villages in the south of Bahriyya. this point 1
was reassured some hours later Abdullah and the old
- contact - who accompanied It appeared that,
the whole, the oasis was loosely supervised the govem
ment; and, what important, the population was .
overwhelming1y pro-Sanusi.
Five nights of strenuous riding: first gravel and
broken ground and then through flat .sand '!unes; past the
inhabited Sitra oasis and its lifeless, dark-blue salt lake fringed
and thickets ofwi1d palms; the Arj depression with
its fantastic, craggy chalk rocks, to wblch the moon1ight
parted ghostly, other-worldly appearance; and, toward the end
of the fifth night, our first view of the oasis of Siwa ..
for years it had been one ofmy Most cherished desires to visit
this remote oasis wblch onee had the seat of an
temple and oracle famous throughout the ancieot world; but
somehow desire had never fulfilled. And now it 00
fore in the "risingdawn: vast expanse of groves sur
rounding solitary which the houses of the town, rooted
in the rock like dwellings, rose tier upon tier toward tall,
conical minaret that topped the flat summit. It was
conglomeration ofcrumbling masonry such as might behold
jo dream ... 1 was seized with urge to enter its mysterious
confines aod to wander through Ianes that had witnessed the
332 ROAD
times of the Pharaohs, and to see the the temple in
wblch Croesus, of Lydia, heard the oracle that spelt his
doom, and the Macedonian Alexander was promised conquest
of the world.
But again 10ngingwasto remain unfulfilled. Although
50 the town Siwa must needs remain closed to
visit so remote from contacts with the outer world and so
unaccustomed to strangers that every new face was bound to
noticed at wO\lld indeed foo1hardy: for, situated
alrnost the Libyan border, Siwa was most closely watched
the Frontier Administration and also, beyond any doub1, full of
informers in Italian And so, regretfully consoling myself
with the thought that it was not portion to see it this trip,
1 dismissed Siwa from mind.
We skirted the town in wide circle to the south and finally
made in grove of \vild palms. Without allowing himself
td - for had intention of stopping so close to the
border 10nger was absolutely necessary - Abdullah
mediately rode off to the.neighbouring hamlet to find the
whom Sayyid Ahmad had entrusted with seeing us across the
frontier. After few hours, retumed with the two new guides
and the four fresh camels that were to take us onward.
guides, beduins from the Jabal Akhdar, were
Mukhtar's sent especially him to lead us through the
gap between the Italian-occupied oases of Jaghbub and Jalu
. onto the Cyrenaican plateau, where 1 was to meet Umar.
Abdullah and his friend took leave of us 10 retum to their
lage in Egypt; and under the guidance of the two mlljahidin,
and ar-Rahman, westarted \veek's trek across
the almost waterless desert steppe that gently ascends to\vard the
Jabal Akhdar. It was the hardest desert journey 1 had ever
perienced. Although there was not danger of discovery
Italian patrols if took care to blde in daytime and travel
night, the necessity of avoiding the widely spaced wells
made long march nightmare. Only were to
water camels and refill our waterskins from desolate well in
Wadi al-Mra; and this almost proved undoing.
We had arrived at the we111ater than had expected - in fact,
da\\-l1 was breaking we started to draw water for the
animals, and the sun stood the horizon when we finished.
JlHAD 333
We had 5till. as to1d US. two good to go before we
would reach the rocky depression that was to our blding
place for the day. But hardly had:we resumed our march when .
the ominous drone ofan broke the desert silence: and
few minutes small monoplane appeared over our
banked.5teep1y, and to circle in steadily lowering spira1.
was place to take cover, and 50 we jumped down from
the camels and scattered. At that moment the pilot opened fire
with his machine gun.
'Down. downon the ground!' 1 shouted. 'Don't move - play
dead!'
But who must experienced many such encounters
in his long years with the muja!Jidin, did not 'play dead'.
down his back, his head against boulder, resting his
rifle raised started firing at the oncoming plane
not at random, but taking careful aim before every shot, as if at
target practice. It was extremely daring thing to do, the
plane went straight for him in flat dive, spraying the sand with
bullets. But of shots must hit the plane, for
suddenly it swerved, turned its nose upward and rapidly gained
altitude. pilot had probably decided that it would not
worthwhile to shoot four at the risk of his own safety.
circled or twice and then disappeared toward
the in the direction of Jaghbub.
Italian sons dogs cowards;' announced
calmly we reassembIed. like to kill - but they do not
like to expose their own skins too
None ofus had injured, but Abd ar-Rahman's was
dead. We transferred his to Zayd's , and
henceforth rode pillion behind Zayd.
Three nights later we reached the juniper forests of the Jabal
Akhdar and gtatefully exchanged our exhausted camels for the
horses that had waiting for us at, secluded spot in the cus
tody of group of muja/lidin. From now the desert lay
blnd us; we rode over hiUy. rocky plateau criss-crossed
innumerable dry stream beds and dotted withjuniper trees which
in places formed almost impenetrable thickets. This \vild and
pathless land in the heart of Italian-occupied. territory was the
hunting ground of the muja/lidin.
ROAD 334
NIGBTS us to Wadi at-Taaban - the
'Val1eyof the Tired One', as it was most appropriately named
where we were to meet Umar al-Mukhtar. Safely ensconced in
tblckly wooded gulley, with our horses hobbled in the lee of
rock, we' awaited the coming of the Lion of the Jabal Akhdar.
night was cold and starless and filled with rustling silence.
It would still some hours unti1 Sidi Umar arrived; and as
the night \yas exceedingly dark, two Bara'sa beduins saw
reason why we should not replenish our supply ofwater from the
wells of Sfayya, few miles to the east. True, there was
fortified ltalian post less than half mile from Bu Sfayya
- but,' said 'those curs will not dare to leave their
wal1s in so dark night.'
accompanied Zayd, set out horseback with
two empty waterskins, having wrapped rags around the hooves
of their horses to prevent sound the rocky ground.
disappearedinto the darkness while Abd ar-Rahman and 1 hud
dled together for wannth against the low rocks. It would have
been too risky to light fire.
After an hour some twjgs crackled among the junipers;
sandal struck softly against stone. instant1y
alert, stood straight for while, the in bls hands, and peered
into the darkness. subdued call, not unlike the wail of jackal,
from thetblcket, and Abd ar-Rahman, cupping his hand
before his mouth, answered with similar sound. figures of
two appeared before us. were foot and carried
rifles. When they closer, of said, way of
God,' and Abd ar-Rahman replied, is might and
power beside - seemed to kindof password.
the two ne,,: arrivals - both of them clothed in ragged jards,
wraps of beduins - apparently knew Abd ar
for gripped both his hands and greeted him
tionately. 1was introduced, and the two muja!lidin clasped hands
with in tum. One of them said:
God with thee. Sidi Umar is coming.'
We stood listening. After perhaps ten minutes, the twigs
crack,led in the juniper bushes and more emerged from
shadows, from different direction, converging upon us
-with rifles ready. When they had convinced themselves that we
were indeed those whom they expected to meet, they immedi

ateJy fanned out into the thicket, again in different directions,
viously intending to keep good watch overtheir leader's safcty.
And then riding smal1 horse whose hooves were
in cloth. Two menwalked side and several
followed him. When reached the rocks wh.ich we were
waiting, of h.is helped to dismount, and 1 saw that
moved with difficulty (1ater 1 leamed that had
wounded in skirmish ten days ear1ier). the 1ight of thc
rising 1 could now see him clearly; of middle size,
strong of short, snow-white beard framed 1\is scmbre,
deeply lined the eyes deep in their sockets; from the
creases around them could guess that in different
stances they might have readi1y laughed, but now was
nothing in them but darkness and suffering and courage.
1 stepped forward to meet him and felt the strong pressure
l1is gnarled hand.
'Welcome, son' - and as his eyes swept over
keenly, appraisingly: the eyes of to ,vhom danger was
dai1y bread.
ofh.is spread blanket the ground and Sidi Umar
sat down heavily. Abd ar-Rahman bent over to kiss his hand and
then, after asking the Ieader's permission, set himself to Iighting
small fire under the protective overhang rock. the faint
gIow of the fire, Sidi Umar read the Ietter from Sayyid Ahmad
wh.ich 1 had brought with read it careful1y, folded it, held
it for moment over his head - gesture 'of respect and de
votion almost never sees in but in North Africa
- and then turned toward with smile:
'Sayyid Ahmad, God Iengthen his has good to
say about thee. art ready to help us But 1 do not kno\v
where hclp could from, save from (Jad, the Mighty,
BountifuI. are indeed reaching the end of allotted timc.'
'But th.is which S"ayyid Ahmad has evo!ved', ! interposcd.
'could it not new beginning? If steady stJpplies cOl!lJ
arranged and made ,thc'base of future opcrations, cou!c'
not the ItaIians held?'
1 had never seen smHe so bitter, 50 horeless as that \\'i1h
which Sidi Umar answered . , . ? Kufra is 1051. lt
occupied the ltalians about fortnight ago ....
news Throughout the past rnonths,
336 ROAD
Sayyid Ahmad and 1 had building our the
position that Kufra could made rallying point for intensi
fied resistance. With Kufra gone, nothing remained to the Sanusi
but the tortured plateau of the Jabal Akhdar - nothing but the
steadily tightening vice of Italian occupation, 10ss of point after
point, s10W, relentless strangulation ...
'How did Kufra fall1'
With weary gesture, Sidi Umar motioned to of his
to closer: 'Let this tell thee the story ... is of
the few who have escaped from Kufra. to
yesterday.'
from Kufra sat down hi$ haunches before and
pulled bls raggedburnus around him. spoke slowly, without
tremor of emotion in his voice; but his gaunt face seemed to
mirror the had witnessed.
us in three columns, from three sides, with
armoured cars and heavy Their aeroplanes
down 10wand bombed houses and mosques and groves. We
had few hundred able to carry arms; the rest were
and children and old We defended house after
house, but they were too strong for us, and in the end the
villageofAI-Hawari was left to us. Our rifleswere uselessagainst
their armoured cars; and they overwhelmed us. few of us
escaped. 1 hid myself in the palm orchards waiting for
to make way through the Italian lines; and through the
night 1 could hear the screams of the women as they were being
raped the Italian soldiers and Eritrean askaris. the follow
ing day old woman to hiding and brought
water and bread. She told that the Italian general had as
sembled the surviving people before the tomb of Sayyid
Muhammad al-Mahdi; and before their eyes tore of
the Koran into pieces, thre\v it to the ground and set his boot
it, shouting, "Let your beduin prophet now, if
And then ordered the trees of the oasis to cut
down and the \vel1s destroyed and the books Sayyid
Ahmad's library burned. And the next day commanded
that some of our elders and taken in aeroplane
and they were hurled out of the high above the ground to
smashed to death ... And through the second 'Jlight 1
heard from hiding the cries of our women and the
JlHAD 337
laughter of the soldiers, and their rifle shots ... At last 1 crept
out into the desert in the dark of night and found stray l
and rode aWfiy ...'
When the from Kufra had concluded his terribIe tale,
Sidi Umar gently drew to himself and repeated: 'So thou
canst see, son, we have indeed close to the end of our
allotted time.' And, as ifin reply to the unspoken question in
eyes, added: 'We fight because w ~ have to fight for our faith
and our freedom until we drive the invaders out die ourselves.
We have other choice. God we belong and unto Him do
we return. We have sent away our women and children to Egypt,
so that we should not have to worry about tl1eir safety when
God wills us to die.'
muffled drol1e audibIe somewhere in the dark sky.
With almost reflex movement, of Sidi Umar's threw
sand the fire. h e planc, more than vague shape against
the clouds, passed fairly low over us its eastward
fllght, and tOO sound of its engine slowly died away.
'But, Sidi Umar,' 1 said, 'would it not better for thee and
thy mujabldin to withdraw into Egypt while there is still way
1 For in Egypt it would perhaps possibIe to bring
gether the refugees from Cyrenaica and to organize
effectiveforce. struggle here ought to halted for time, 51)
that the people might regain some of their strength ... 1 k110W
that the British in Egypt are not too at the thought of
having strong Italian position their flank; God knows, they
might perhaps close their eyes to your preparations if could
convince them that do not regard them as enernies .. .'
'No, son, it is too late for that. What thou speakest of was
possibIe fifteen, sixteen years ago, before Sayyid Ahmad,
God lengthen his life, took it himself to attack the British
in order 10 help the Turks - who did not help us ... Now it is
too late. British will oot move finger to make our 10t
easier; and ihe Italians are detern1ined tofight us to the finish
and to crush possibility offuture resistance. Should 1 and
foHowers go now to E8Ypt, we would never to return.
And ho\v could we abaodon our people and leave them leader
less, to devoured the enernies of God l'
'What about Sayyid Idris? Does share thy views, Sidi
Umar1'
338 ROAD
'Sayyid Idris is good good son of great father. But
God has not given him the heart to sustain such struggle .. .'
was deep earncst, but despondency, in Sidi Umar's
voice, as thus discussed with the inevitable outcome ofhis
10ng5trugglefor freedom: knew that nothing awaited but
dcath. Death held terror for did not seek it; but
neither' did try to evade it. And, 1 sure, even if had
known what kind of death lay would not have
tried to avoid it. seemed to 00 conscious in every fibre of his
body and mind that carries his destiny within himself,
wherever goes and whatever does.
soft commotion audible from within the brush, so
50ft tMt one might have remained unaware of it under ordinary
circumstances; but these were ordinary circumstances. With
ears tensed in anticipation of ofdanger from
expected quarters, 1could clearly distinguish the faint sounds of
stealthy movement that had stopped abruptly, to 00 resumed
few moments later. bushes parted and out stepped Zayd and
accompanied two of the sentries; the horses they led
were loaded with bulging At the sight of Sidi Umar,
rushed forward to kiss the leader's hand, whereupon 1
introduced Zayd. sharp eyes of Sidi Umar rested with
vious approval Zayd's austere face and spare figure; placing
his hand Zayd's shoulder, said:
'Welcome to thee, brother from the land of f,thers. Of
which Arabs art thou?' - and when Zayd told him tnat 00
longed to the tribc of Shammar, Umar nodded smilingly:
then thou art of the triOO of Hatim at-Tayyi, the most generous
of ... .'*
Some dates wrapped in piece of cloth were placed before us
one ofSidi Umar's men; and invited us to the simple fare.
When we had eaten, the old warrior stood up:
is time to move brothers. We are too close to the
ltalian post at Bu Sfayya to a110w daybreak to find us here.'
We broke our improvisedcamp and rode behind Sidi
Umar, while the rest ofhis men fo11owed foot. As soon as we
emerged from the gu11ey, 1 saw that Sidi Umar's was
Pre-Islamic warrior and poet his generosity. His
has synonymo\!s (m' this to which the Arabs attach the utmost
tribe, to which bel,tnged, traces its descent from
Hatim's the '
JlHAD 339
larger than 1 had thought: dark shadows
darted from beblnd rocks and and joined column,
while severat.more were strung out in loose pickets far to
its right. and left. Nocasual observer would have guessed that
there were about thirty around for ofthem moved
with the silencc of Red Indian scout.
dawn we reached the encampment of Umar al
Mukhtar's dawr (guerrilla band), which at that time
sisted of litt1e over two hundred It was sheltered in deep.
narrow gorge. and severa1 small fires were buming under over
hanging rocks. Some were sleeping the ground; others,
blurred shadows in the greyness of early dawn, were with
various tasks - cleaning their fetching water, cook
ing or tending to the few horses that were tethered to
trees here and there. A1most seemed to clothed in rags, and
neither then nor later did 1see single wholejard or in the
entire group. of the wore bandages wblch spoke of
recent encounters with the
1 perceived two women - old and
young - in the they sat near of the fires, apparently
engrossed in repairing torn saddle with crude bodkins.
two sisters of ours go with us wherever we go,' said
Sidi Umar in reply to mute have
fused to seek the safety of Egypt together with the rest of
and children. are mother.and daughter. their
have killed in the struggle.'
For two days and night - during wblch the was sblfted
to another place within the forests and gorges of the plateau
Sidi Umar and 1 went over every possibility of arranging more
regular supplies for the mujahidin. trickle was sti1l coming
Egypt. Ever since Sayyid Idris had reached understand
ing with them during the period ofhis armistice with the Italians,
the British authorities seemed to willing to 100k, again, .
with certain tolerance upOn Sanusi activities Egyptian
territory so long as they remained limited to 10calmoves. In par
ticular, they took official notice of the small groups of war
riors who occasionaHysucceeded in breaking through the Italian
lines and to SaHum, the nearest Egyptian town the
coast, to seH their war booty - most1y Ita1ian mu1es - in
change for badly needed food stores. Such expeditions, how
340
. were extremeIy hazardous for the mujahidin and couId not
often undertaken, so since the Italians were making
rapid progress with the barbed-wire entanglements ran
!iIong Egyptian border. Sidi Umar agreed with that the
altemative could supply along way 1 had
with secret depots in Egyptian oases of
Farafra and Siwa; was very doubtfuI whether this scheme
coubl long elude vigi1ance of Italians.
(Umar's proved only toowell founded. few
months later sucb supply caravan did reach tbe mujaltidin,
but was spotted Italians while passing through 'gap'
between Jaghbub and Jalu. Soon afterward fortified ItaIian
post was establisbed Bir Tarfawi, about balfway between
two oases, and this, in addition almost continuous air patrols,
made furtber enterprises of this kind far risky.)
1b!id now to tbink of return. Not being very keen
tracing long, arduous trail 1 had pursued westward
journey, 1inquired of Sidi Umar whether shorter route was
feasible. was, told dangerous through
the barbed-wire entang1ements, SalIum. As it happened,
band of mujahidin were ready set out 'venture of this kind
in order bring Sallum; if 1 wanted, 1 could join
1 decided 1 wanted.
Zayd and 1 took leave ofUmar al-Mukhtar. never see
again: Iess eight months later was captured and executed
..
ABOUT WEEK'S - only night - over
rougb terrain and through the juniper tbickets oftheeastem
Akhdar, our band of some twenty reacbed Egyptian
Cyrenaican border the point where planned to make our
break-through. This point had selected random. Al
though barbed-wire barrier already covered greater part
.of frontier, it was in tbose days not quite completed. At some
places, as here, there was only single entanglement about eight
feet higb and four feet wide, \vhi1e in other places there were
ready as as three separate rows strung in heavy, multiple
coi1s poles embedded in concrete foundations. spotwe
had chosen was half mile or 50 from fortified outpost in
JlHAD 341
which, we knew, there were armoured cars as weH; but it had
been choice between this sector of the border another which
might less weH fortified but guarded doubIe
even triple 1ine of wire.
Arrangements had made for us to met few in
side Egyptian territory Sanusi supporters with transport
animals. it would not necessary to endanger our own
horses; they were sent back in the charge of few of the
bldin, while the rest - zayd and 1among them - approached the
wire foot shortly before midnight. Darkness was our only
protection, for the ltalians had cut down trees and bushes
along 'frontier.
With pickets posted at distance ofSeveral hundred yards to
the north and south, six of our - armed with wire-cutters
and heavy leather gloves captured in previous raids Italian
working parties - crept forward fours; we others covered
their advance \vith our rifles. It was tense moment. Straining
ears for the s1ightest sound, 1 could hear only the crunch of
gravel under tl1e weight of the advancing bodies and the
occasional ofa night bird. the screech ofthe first
shears biting into the wire - it sounded like an explosion to
- foHowed subdued staccato of snapping metal strands
... snap ... grating and snapping, deeper and
deeper into the entanglement ...
Another bird broke through the riight; but this time it was
not bird but signal: signal from of our pickets in the
north announcing the approach of danger ... and almost at the
same moment we heard the drone of motor coming toward us.
search1ight swept obliquely into the air. Like we
threw ourselves to the ground, except for the wire cutters who
\vent with their work in desperate haste, longer bothering
about stealth but cutting, hacking into the wire with shears and
rifle butts, like possessed. few seconds later shot rang
out: our northern sentry. crew of the armoured car must
have sighted him, for the ofthe searchlight suddenly swept
do\vnward and we heard the ominous rattle of machine gun.
roar of the increased in volume and the bIack
houette bore down us, its catching squarely the
ground., bIast of machine-gun foHowed; the gunner had
apparently aimed too high: 1could hear whizz and whine
342
tbe bullets as they passed over our heads. Lying our bellies,
we answdred the fire with our rifles.
searcblight, the searchlight!' someone shouted. 'Aim at
the searchlight!' - and the searchlight went apparently shat
terred the buIlets of our sharpshooters. armoured
to abrupt ha1t, but its machine gunner continued firing
blindly. At that instant shout from ahead of us announced
that the break-through was completed - and, we
squeezed ourselves through the narrow opening, ripping
clothes and flesh the barbed wire. sound of running steps
- and two jard-clad figures threw themselves into the gap
in the entanglement: our sentries rejoining us. Ita1ians were
apparently 10ath to the and engage us in fight ...
And then \\ stood Egyptian soi1 - rather, we continued
to followed for while erratic firing from across the
border, taking cover behind boulders, sand ridges and isolated
bushes.
Dawn found us well inside Egyptian territory and out of
danger. Of our twenty-odd five \vere missing, presumably
dead, and four wounded, though seriously.
'God has merciful to us,' said' of the wounded
mujahidin. 'Sometimes we half of our in crossing the
\vire. But, then, ever dies whom God, exalted His
has \vi11ed to die ... And does not the Holy Book say,
Speak 1101 those who slail1 ;n the God as dead:
tlley ... l'
Two weeks later, returning way of Marsa Matruh and
Alexandria to Upper Egypt and thence, as
dhow back to Zayd and 1 found ourselves again in
Medina. entire venture had taken about two months, and
our absence from the had hardly noticed ...
As 1 STEP WITH SIDI Muhammad az-Zuwayy over the thresh
old of the Sanusi za.viya of Medina, those dim echoes
- of death and despair linger in mind, and the smeIl ofjuniper
trees, and the contraction of beart at the sound of bullets
passing over bead, and the pain of hopeless quest; and then
the memory of Cyrenaican adventure away and
the pain rcmains.
JlHAD 343
-4
AND ONCE AGAIN 1 stand before the Grand Sanusi and look
the old warrior's tired and again 1 kiss the hand
that has sword so 10ng that it hold it longer.
'God bless son, and make thy way secure ... It is
over year since we last met; and the year has seen the end
our hopes. But praise unto God, whatever decree .. .'
It must indeed have sorrowful year for Sayyid Ahmad:
thefurrows around his mouth are deeper and his voice is lower
than ever. The eag1eis broken. sits huddled the
his white wrapped tightly about him as if for warmth,
staring wordlessly into endless distance.
'Ifwe .1.ave saved Umar al-Mukhtar,' whispers.
'If we could only persuaded him to escape to Egypt while
there was yet time .. .'
'Nobody could have saved Sidi Umar,' 1 comfort him.
did not want to saved. preferred to die if couldnot
victorious. 1 knew it when 1 parted from him, Sidi Ahmad.'
Sayyid Ahmad nods heavily: 1 too knew it, 1 too knew
it ... 1 knew it too late. Sometimes it to that 1 was
wrong to heed the from Istanbul, seventeen years ago ...
Was not that perhaps the beginning death not only for Umar
but for the
this 1 have reply, for 1 have always fclt that Sayyid
Ahmad's decision to start his unnecessary war against the British
was the most fatal mistake of his life.
adds Sayyid Ahmad, 'how could 1 have done otherwise
when the Caliph of Islam asked for help? Was 1 right or was
1 foolish? But who, except God, say whether is right
or foolish if foHows the of his conscicnce?'
Who say, indeed?
The Grand Sanusi's head sways slowly from side to side in
perplexity of pain. His eyes are veiled behind drooping lids; and
with sudden certainty 1 know that they will never again flare
with flame of '"
Sayyid Ahmad died at Medina in the foIlowing (1933).
XII
END ROAD
-1
W
E LEAVE MEDINA late at night, following the
'eastem' route - the the Prophet foUowed
his last pilgrimage to few months before
his death.
We ride through the rest of the night and through the
proaching dawn. After short stop for our morning prayer we
proceed into the which is grey and cloudy. In the forenoon
it begins to rain, and soon are wet to our skins. Finally we
espy small beduin encampment far to our left and decide to
take shelter in of the black tents.
is small and belongs to group of Harb beduins,
who receive us with loud, God give Hfe, strangers,
and welcome.' 1spread blanket over the ntats of goat
hair in the tent ofthe shaykh, whose - unveiled like most of
the beduin women in this region - repeats her husband's gracious
,velcome. After sieepless night, sleep overcomes speedily
under the drumming of the rain the tent roof.
rain drums into awakening several hours later.
Nightly darkness lies over - oh, it is the night, only
the dark of the tent; and it sr.uells of wet wool. 1stretch
arms and hand strikes against camel-saddle standing
the ground behind smoothness of the old wood is good
to the touch; it is pJeasant to play it with one's fingers, the
pommel, until they meet the iron-hard, sharp-edged
with which it is laced together. is nobody in the tent but
.
After while 1 rise and step into the tent opening. The rain is
hammering holes into the sand - myriads of holes which
suddenly appear and as suddenly disappear to make room for
new holes - and tums to spray over the blue-grey granite
boulders to right. There is nobody in sight, for at this time of
day the must have gone out to look after their camels; the
344
OF 345
bIack tents near the tree down below in the va1ley
are siIent in the siIence of the rainy aftemoon. From of them
grey wisp ofsmoke winds upward - herald ofthe evening meal;
it is too thin and too humbIe to itself against the rain, and
creeps sidewise, fluttering helplessly, like woman's hair in the
wind. moving veil of silver-grey water-ribbons the
billocks seem 10 sway; the air is full of the scent of water and
wild trees and tent-wool.
Gradually the splashing and dripping ceases and the cloud$
to break up under the rays of the evening sun. 1 walk to
ward of the low granite bou1ders. In it is depression as
large as of the platters which whole roasted sheep and
offered to guests festive occasions; now it is filled with
rain water. When 1 put arms into it, it reaches up to the el
bows, lukewarm, strangely caressing; and as 1 arms
about in it, it feels as if skin were drinking. From of the
tents emerges with big vessel her head,
evidently intending to fill it from of the pools in the
rocks; she holds her arms stretched outward, sideward and
ward, gripping with her hands the of her wide red garment
like wingS, and sways softly as she She sways like
\vater when it slowly flows down fromthe rocks, 1 think to
self; she is beautifullike water ... From the distance 1 hear
the bellowing of the returning camels: and here they are, <:;J
pearing in spread-out group from behind the rocks, solcmn1y
shuffling with loose legs. herdsmen drive them with
sharp, short calls into the middle of the valley, then they call
'Ghrr . . . ghrr ... " to make the animals kneel down; and the
brown backs swing down in wavy movements toward the
ground. the growing dusk the the camels' forelegs
and then disperse to the tents, to his
And here is the night with its soft darkness and coolness.
fore most of the tents glow fires; the clatte.ring of
and pans and the laughter of the 'women mingle with the
casional calls of the and the fragments of their talk which
the wind carries to sheep and goats that after
the camels continue to bleat for wbile, and sometimes dog
barks - just as barks in the nights. in all the tent-camps of
Arabia..
zayd is no\vhere to seen; is proba still asleep in
ROAD
the tents. 1walk slowly down to the resting camels. With their
great bodies they for themselves h01l0ws in the
and now lie comfortabJy, sorne of them chewing their cud
and others stretching their l\eI';ks 10ng the ground. or
lifts its head and grunts 8.s 1pass and playfully
its fat young foc1l is tightly pressed against its
mother's side; frightened hands, it jumps whi1e the
mother turns her head toward and softIy be1l0ws with wide
mouth. I take hold of the foal's neck with arms and
hold it fast and press face into the warm wool of its back:
and at it stands quite still and seems to lost fear.
warmth of the young penetrates face and
chest; under the palm ofmy hand 1sense the blood pounding
in its neck-vein; it merges with the beat of own blood and
awakens in overwhelming sense of closeness to Hfeitself,
and longing to lose myself in it entirely.
-2
WE RIDE, AND EVERY STEP of the dromedaries brings us
nearer to ihe end of our road. We ride for days through the
lit steppe; we sleep at night under the stars and awake in the
coolness of dawn; and slowly 1approach the end of road.
has never other road for although 1 did
not know it for years, has always goal. It
to 10ng before mind aware of it, with
powerfuJ voice: is in tbls world as well as in the
world to waits for man's body as well as for
his soul and extends over that thinks and feels and does
his commerce as well as his prayer, his bedchamber as well as his
politics; IGngdom knows neither end nor limits.' And when,
over of years, a1I this clear to 1 knew
where 1 belonged: 1 knew that brotherhood Islam had
waiting for ever since 1was born; and 1embraced Islam.
desire of early youth, to belong to definite orbit of
ideas, to part of community of brethren, had at last
fulfilltd.
Strr,ngely enough - but perhaps not so strange if considers
what Islam stands for - first experience as Muslim
among Muslims was of brotherhood ...
In the first days of January 1927,1 set out again, tOO
347 BND R.OAD
Elsa and her little for the Middle East; and
tOO 1 it would for goOO.
For days \Jfe voyaged through the Mediterranean, through
shimmering circle of sea and sky, sometimes greeted distant
coasts the smoke of ships that g1ided past. had
disappeared far behind us and was almost forgotten.
1often went down from the comfort of our deck into the
stale with its tiered rows of iron bunks. Since the boat
was going to the Far East, the majority of the steerage passengers
were Chinese, small craftsmen and traders returning to the
Middle after years of hard labour in Europe. Besides
these, there was small group of Arabs from who had
board at Marseil1es. also were returning
noises and smells of Western ports were still about them;
they were still living in the afterg10w of the days when their
brown hands had shovel1ed in the stokeholds of English,
American Dutch they were still speaking of strange
foreign cities: New York, Buenos Aires, Hamburg. caught
sudden longing for the shining unknown, they had let them
selves hired in the port of Aden as stokers and trirnmers;
they had gone out of their familiar world and thought that they
were growing beyond themselves in the embraee of the world's
incompreh.msible strangeness: but soon the boat would
Aden and those times would recede into the past.. would
change the Western hat for turban kufiyya, retain the
yesterday as memory and, for himself, return to
their vi11age homes in Would they return the same
as they had set out - or as changed Had the West caught
their souls - or only brushed their senses?
problem of these deepened in mind into prob
of wider import.
Never before, 1 reflected, the worlds of Islam and tr.e
West so close to another as today. This closeness is
struggle, visible and invisible. Under the impact of
cultural i...1luences, the souls of Muslim and women
are slowly are letting themselves led away
from their erstwhile belief that improvement of living stan
dards should but means to improving man's spiritual
ceptions; they are falling into the same idOlatry of 'progress' into
which the Western wor!d fell after it reduced religion to mere
348 ROAD
melodious tinkling somewhere in the background ofhappening;
and are thereby growing smaller in stature, not greater: for
imitation, opposed as it is to creativeness, is bound to
make small ...
Not that the Muslims could not learn from the West,
especia11y in the fields of science and technology.But, then,
acquisition of scientific notions and methods is not rea11y
'imitation': and certain1y not in the case of whose faith
con.mands them to search for knowledge wherever it is to
found. Science is neither Westem nor Eastem, for scientific
discoveries links in unending chain of intellectual
endeavour which embraces mankind as whole. Every scientist
bui1ds the foundations supplied his predecessors, 00 they
of his own nation or of another; and this process of bui1ding,
correcting and improving goes and from to
from age to age, from civilization to civilization: so that the
scientific achievements of particular age civilization
never said to 'OOlong' to that age or civilization. At various
times nation, more vigorous than others, is to
tribute more to the general fund of knowledge; but in the 10ng
run the process is shared, and legitimately so, There was
time when the civilization of the Muslims was more vigorous
than the civilization of Europe. It transmitted to
technological inventions of revolutionary nature, and more
than that: the very principles ofthat 'scientific method' which
modem science and civilization built. Nevertheless, Jabir ibn
Hayyan's fundamental discoveries in chemistry did not make
chemistry 'Arabian' science; nor algebra and trigo
.'nometry described as 'Muslim' sciences. although the was
.. evolved and the otller, AI-Battani, both of
'whom were Muslims: just as cannot speak of 'English'
Theory of Gravity, althougl1 the who it was
Eng1ishman. such achievements are the common property of
the human race. If, therefore, the Muslims adopt, as adopt they
must, modern methods in science andtechnology, they will do
not more thar. fo11ow the evolutionary instinct which causes
to avai1 themselves of other men's experiences. But if they adopt
- as there is' need for them to do - \Vestern forms of life,
Westem mannersand customs and social concepts, they will not
gain there])y: for what the West give them in this respect
OPPOSITE: E/sa and her son
END OF ROAD 349
will not superior to what their own culture has given them and
to what their faith points the way.
If the uslims keep tlleir heads and accept progress as
means and not as end in itself, they not retain their
inner freedom but also, perhaps, pass to Western
the lost secret of life's sweetness ...
YEMENIS the boat \vas thin, short with
eagle's nose and so intcnse that it seemed to fire;
but his gestures were quiet and measured. When leamed that
1was newcomer to Islam, showed special affection
hours we would sit together dcck while spoke to of
his mountain villagein was Muhammad Salih.
evening 1 visited him below deck. of his friends
ill with fever his iron bunk, and 1 was told that the ship's
doctor would bother to do\vn to the steerage. As
appeared to suffering malaria, 1gave some quinine.
While 1was thus busy with him, the other Yemenis gathered in
around little Muhammad Salih and, witll
1
sideglances
took whispered counsel. the end of thcim advanced
tall with anolive-brown and hot bIack eyes - and
offered bundle of crumpled notes:
'We have collectedthis among ourselves. Unfortunately it :,.)t
grant us the favour and accept -it.'
1 stepped back, startled, and explained that it \vas not
that 1 had given medicine to tl1eir friend.
'No, we kno\v it; but do nevertheless accept this It
is not payment but gift - gift thy brethren. We
about thee, and therefore we give thee art
Muslim and brother. art even better than \ve others:
,ve have as Muslims, OUf fathers were Muslims
and grandfathers; but thou hast recognizedlslam \vith thine
own heart ... Accept the brother, sake of the
Prophet of God.'
But 1, bound conventions. defended
self. '1 could not possibly gift in return service to
sick friend ... Besides, 1 have enough; surely nced
it 1. Ho,vever. ifyou insist giving it away. give it
the at Port Said.'
tl,e
ROAD
'No,' repeated the 'thou accept it from us - and if
thou dost not wish to keep it, give it in thine to the

And as they pressed and, shaken
sad and silent, as if 1 had refused not their but their
hearts, 1suddenly comprehended: where 1had from
were accustomed to bui1d wal1s between 1 and this, how
ever, was community without walls ...
'Give the 1 accept it and 1 thank
-3
'TOMORROW, insha-Allah, we will in fire thou
art lighting, Zayd, wil1 last; our joumey is coming to
end.'
'But surely, uncle, there will other fires to light, and
there will always another joumey ahead of thee and l'
so, Zayd, brother: but somehow 1 those
other journeys will in this land. 1 have wandering in
5010ngthat it has growrt into blood; and 1fear if 1do
not leave now, 1 never shall ... But 1 have to go away, Zayd:
dost thou not rem.ember the saying that water move and
flowifit is to remain clear? 1want, while 1 still young, to see
how our Muslim brethren live in other parts the world - in
India, in in Java .. .'
'But, uncle,' Zayd with consternation, 'surely
thou hast not ceased to love the land of the Arabs?'
'No, Zayd, 1love it as as ever; perhaps even little too
- 50 that it hurts to think what the future
might bring to it. 1 told that the is planning to
his country to faranjis, 50that gain from them:
will a110w them dig for in AI-Hasa, and for gold in the
Hijaz - and God knows what this do to the beduins.
c<>untry wil1 never the same again ...'
OLlt the hush of the desert night 50unds tbe beat gal
loping camel. rider rushes with fiyingsaddle-tassels and
flowing out of tl1e darkness into the light our campfire,
brings his dromedary to abrupt standsti!I and, without wait
ing for it kneel, jumps down from the s::tddle. After short
\\"ith he starts, \vithout uttering another word,
10 unsaddle the beast, tosses his saddlebags nearthe
BND ROA'D 351
fire and sits down the ground, silent, with face averted.
God gi.ve thee life, Said,' says Zayd, who evi
dentIy knows the stranger. But the stranger remains silent,
whereupon Zayd turnS to is 01' Ibn Saud's rajajil,
the devil.'
morose Abu Said is very dark; tblck and crinkly
hair, worn careful1y plaited in two long tresses, betray African
ancestry. is extremely well dressed; the dagger in his belt
probably gift from the - is in go1:1; and his
mount is excellent, honey-coloured dromedary of 'r(orth
slim-limbed, of head, with powerfu1 sholjJders
and hind-quarters.
'What is the with thee, Abu Sa:d ? Why dost not
speak to thy friends? thou possessed jinnl'
'It is Nura .. .' whispers Abu Said - and after whiJe, when
the hot coffee has loosened his tongue, tells us about Nura,
girl the Najdi town of Ar-Rass mentions her failier's
and itl:appens that 1 know well). had observed
secretly over the 'garden wall when she was drawing water in the
of other women - 'and 1 felt if glowing had
fallen into heart. 1love her, but her father, that dog, wouldn't
give his daughter inmarriage, the beggar - and said that she
was of 1 lot of as her dower, also 2
piece of land; always refused and in the end
her to her cousin, God's curse upon and
His strong, dark is illuminated from one side thc
and the shadows which flicker across it are like the shadows
of hell of torment. cannot bear to remain sitting long;
driven bls restlessness, jumps busies bls hands for
moment with his saddle, retums to the fire and, sudden1y, dashcs
cff into the empty night. We hear as runs in w!(1e
circles around our camping place shouts, sh<:>uts:
'Nura's fire bums Nura's fire burns in breast!' --and
again, with sob: 'Nura, Nura!'
approaches the campflre again and runs in circles around
it, with his kaftan fluttering Jike ghostly night bird in light
and darkness of the fire.
1$ mad? 1 do not lL1ink so. But it that of the
dark recesses of his soul rise up some primeval, atavistic
tions - ancestral memories of the African the memories of
352 ROAD
people who Iived in the midst .of demons and weird mysteries,
stiII close to the time when the divine spark ofconsciousness
changed the animal into and the sj)ark. is not yet strong
enough to bind the unchained urgestogether and to weld them
into higher emotion ... For second it seems to that 1
see Abu Said's heart before lump offlesh and blood
smoking in the of passion as if in fire - and somehow it
appears quite natural to that should so terribly,
and run in circles like madinan until the hcbbled camels raise
themselves, frightened, three legs ...
retums to us, and throws himself the ground. 1
discern the repugnance in Zayd's at the sight of such
restrained outburst - the aristocratic disposition of true
there is nothing contemptible than such 1Jnleash
ing of the emotions. But Zayd's good heart soon gets the better
ofhim. tugs Abu Said the sleeve, and while the other lifts
his head stares at with eyes, Zayd gently pulls
closer to himself:
'0 Abu Said, how canst thou forget thyselflike this? Thou art
\varrior, Abu Said ... Thou has and often
nearly killed thee - and now woman strikes thee down?
other women in the world besides Nura.... \) Abu
Said, tllOu v.:arrior, thou fool .. .'
And the African groans softly and his with his
hands. continues:
silent, Abu Said ... Look dost thou see that Iighted
path ir. the heavens1'
Abu Said looks up in astonishment, involuntarily follow
Zayd's pointing finger and tum eyes to the pale, uneven path
that runs across the sky from to the ot.her horizon.
You \vould it the Mi1ky Way: but the beduins in their desert
wisdom know that it is nothing but the track of that heavenly
which was sent to when, in obedience to his "God
and in his heart's despair, raised the knife to sacrifice his first
son. path ofthe visible in the heavens
time eternal, symbol of and grace, remembrance of the
rescue sent to the pain of human heart - and thus
solace to those wbo \vere to after: to those who
lost in the desert, and to those others who stumbIe, weeping
deso]ate, through the of their own lives.
BND R,OAD
And Zayd goes his hand raised toward the sky, speaking
solemnly and at the same time unassumingly, as an
speak:
'This is the path of the ram which God sent to our Master
Abraham when was about to kill his first-born; thus God
showed mercy to servant ... Dost thou think will forget
thee?'
Under Zayd's soothing words Said's dark face softens in
childlike \vonderment and becomes visiblyquieter; and he looks
attenti"'ely, Iike pupil following his teacher, toward the sky,
trying to find in it answer to his despair.
-4
AND heavenly ram: such images easi1y
to one's mind in this country. It is remarkabIe how vivid the
memory of that ancient patriarch is among the Arabs - far more
vivid than among the Christians in the West who, after base
their rcligious imagery in the first instance the Old Testament;
or even amcng the Je\vs, to whom the Old Testament is the
ginning and the end of God's \vord to spiritual
of is always felt in Arabia, as in the whole Muslim
world, not only in the frequency with wmch his its
Arabic form Ibral/im) is given to Muslim children, but also in the
ever-recurring remembrance, both and in the
Muslims' daily prayers, of the role as the first
scious preacher of God's Oneness: whicll explains the great
given Islam to the pi1grimage
which earliest times intimately connected with the
story of Abraham. \vas not - so Westerners mis
takenly - brought into the orbit of Arab thought
Muhammad in attempt, as it were, to 'borrow' elements of
religious lore from for it is historically established that
Abraham's personality \vas well known to the Arabs long before
birth of Islam. referellces to the patriarch -in the KoraB
itself so worded as to leave doubt that had Iiving
in the foreground Arabian mind ages before Muhammad's
time: and the outline of his life are always mentioned
without preliminaries or explanations - something, that
is, with which the earliest listeners to the Koran must have
been familiar. Indeed, already in pre-Islamic times
7.
354 ROAD
had an outstahding place in the geneaJogies of the
Arabs as the progenitor, through Ishmael (lsmail),
of the 'northern' Arab group which today comprises than
half the entire Arablan nation, and to wblch Muhammad's
own tribe, the Quraysh, belonged.
On1y thc beginning of the story of Ishmael and bls mother is
mentioned in the Old Testament, for its later development does
not bear directly the destinies ofthe Hebrew to which
the Old Testament is mainly devoted; but pre-Islamic
tradition has to say the subject.
ACCOi"ding to this tradition, Hagar and Ishmael \vere
doned Abraham at the place where stand5 today
wWch, the ofit, i5 means improbable if
bers that to camel-riding nomad joumey of thirty days or
\vas and is nothing of the ordinary. At rate, Arab
tradition says that it was to this that Abraham brought
Hagar and their chi1d- to this gorge between rocky hil1s, naked
and under the Arabian sun, swept flaming desert winds
and avoided birds ofprey. today, when the
of is fi11ed w:th houses and streets and people of
tongues and races, the desert solitude cries out from the dead
slopes around it, and over the crowds of pilgrims who prostrate
themselves before the hOv'er the ghosts ofthose long-past
millenniums in which silence, unbroken and devoid of life,
hung over the empty
It was setting for the despair of that Egyptian bond
woman who had borne son to her master and thus had
the object of so hatred the part her master's wife that
she and her son Islllnael to cast away. patriarch must
grieved indeed when did tOO to placate his
placable wife; but should remember that who was 50
close to God, was convinced that His was without limit.
We are told in the Book ofGenesis that God had thus comforted
him: 'Let it not grievous in thy sight because of the child and
because thy bondwoman ... Of her son \vill 1 make nation
because is ofthy seed.' And 50 Abraham forsook the weeping
woman and child in the valleY,leaving with them \vaterskin
and 5kin fiIled with dates; and went away northward through
Midian to the land of
solitary wild sarha tree stoOO in the ln its shadow
i!ND ROAD 355
sat Hagar with the child her Around her there was
nothing but swimming, waving heat, glaring light sand
rocky slopes. How good was the shadow of the tree ... But the
silence, this horrible silenee without #le breath of 1iving
thing! As the day was slowly passing Hagar thought: If on1y
something living would here, bird, an yes - even
beast of prey: what joy it would But nothing except
the night, comforting like aU desert nights, cooling vau!t of
darkness and stars that softened the bitterness of her despair.
Hagar felt new courage. She fed her chi1d some dates and
drank from the waterskin.
night passed, and another day, and another night. But
when the third with fiery breath, there was more
water in the skin, and despair outgrew strength, and
Jike broken vessel. And when the child cried in vain,
with an ever weaker voiee, for \vater, Hagar cried out to the
Lord; but did not And Hagar, distraught
the suffering of her dying child, ran to and fro with uplifted
hands through the always the same stretch between
two low hills: and it is in remcmbrance of despair that the
pilgrims who now to run seven times between these
two hiIIocks, crying as she onee cried: Bountiful.
FulI Grace! Who shalI mercy us unless
hast
And then the ans\ver: behold, strearn of water gushed
forth and to flow over the sand. Hagar shouted with joy
and pressed the child's face into the precious liquid 80 that
might drink; and she drank with calling out imploringly
between gasps, 'Zummi, zummi!' - which is word without
meaning, merely imitating the sound of the water as it weHed
from the earth, as if to say, 'Gush forth, gush forth!' Lest it run
out and lose itself in the ground, Hagar heaped little wall of
sand around the spring: whereupon it ceased to flow and
welI, which henceforth to kno\\ln as. the Well
Zemzem and exists to this day.
two were now saved thirst, and the dates lasted them
little longer. After few days group of beduins, who with
their fami1ies and chattels had abandoned their homelands in
South Arabia and were seeking new pastures, happened to pass
the mouth of the When they saw f10cks of bird circling
356 ROAD
over it, they concluded that there must water. Some oftheir
rode into the valley to explore it and found lonely woman
with child the rim of abundant well. Peacefully
disposed as they were, the tribesmen asked Hagar's permission
to settle in her valley. This she granted, with the condition that
the well of Zemzem forever remain the of Ishmael and
his descendants.
As for Abraham, tradition says he returned to the vaUeyafter
time and found Hagar and their son alive, as had
promised God. From then visited them often, and saw
Ishmael grow to manhood and marry girl from the South
Arabian tribe. ears later the patriarch was commanded in
dream to build next to the Well of Zemzem temple to his Lord;
and thereupon, helped his son, he built the prototype of the
sanctuary WblCll stands in to this day and is known as the
As they were cutting the stones for what was to
the temple raised to the \vorship of the God,
tumed his to\vard and exclaimed, 'Lab
bayk, A//allumma, labbayk!' - 'For Thee 1 ready, God, for
Thee 1 ready!': and that is their pilgrimagc to
- the pilgrimage to the first temple of the God - Muslims
raise the 'Labbayk, /abbayk!' when they
proach the Holy City.
-5
'LABBA ALLAH UMMA, LABBA . .'
How times have 1heard this during five pilgrim
ages to 1seem to hear it no\v, as 1lie near zayd and
Said the fire.
1 close eyes and the and the stars vanish. 1 lay
over face, and not even the light of the fire now
trate eyelids; sounds of desert go under, 1hear nothing
but the sound of /abbayk in mind and the humming and
throbbing of blood in ears: it hums and throbs and pounds
like the pounding of sea waves against the of ship and like
the throbbing of engines: 1 hear the engines throb and feel
the quiver ofthe ship's planks under and sInell its smoke and
oil and hear the 'Labbayk, Allallumma, /abbayk' as it sounded
from hundreds of throats tllc ship which bore first
pilgrimage, nearly six years ago, from Egypt to Arabia over the
BND OF 'R.OAD 357
sea that is called the Red, and nobody knows why. For thc water
was grey as 10ng as we sailed through the Gulf of Suez,
closed the right side the mountains of the African conti
and the left those of the Sinai Peninsula - both of
them naked, rocky ranges without vegetation, moving with the
progress of our voyage farther and farther into hazy dis
of misty grey which let the land sensed rather than seen.
And when, in the later afternoon, we glided into the \\'jdth
of the Red Sea, it was blue like the Mediterranean under the
strokes of caressing wind. '
were only pilgrims board, so that the ship
could hardly contain them. sblpping greedy for
the profits of the short /lajj season, had literalIy filled it to the
brim without caring for the comfort of the passengers. the
decks, in the cablns, in passageways, every staircase, in the
dining rooms of.the first and second class, in the holds which had
emptied for the purpose and eqttipped with temporary lad
ders: in every availabIe spaee and human beings were
painfully herded together. were mostly pilgrims from Egypt
and North Afrjca. In great humility, with only the goal of the
voyage before their they uncomplainingly that
necessary hardship. How they crouched the deck planks, in
tight groups, women and children. and with difficulty
aged their household chores (for food I \\'as provided the
; how they always struggled to .a'nd fro for water with
tin cans and canvas canteens, every movement torture in this
press of humanity; how they assembled times day around
the watertaps-ofwhich there ""eretoo fewfor so
in order to perform their ablutions before prayer; how they suf
fered in the stifling air of ihe deep holds, two stories below the
deck, where at other times only balesand cases ofgoods tt'aveHed:
whoever saw'this had to recognize the power of which was
in these pilgrims. For they did not seem to feel their suf
fering, so consumed were they with tbe thought of
spoke of their hajj, and the emotion with which they looked
toward the near future made their faces shine. women oftell
sang in chorus soogs about the Holy City, agaio aod agaio
the refrain: 'Labbayk, Allahumma, /abbayk!'
At about 0000 of the secood day the ship sireo sounded :this
was sign that we had reached the of Rablgh, small
358 ROAD
port north of Jidda, where, in accordance with old tradition,
the male pilgrims coming from the north supposed to put
away their everyday clothes and don the ilzram, pilgrim's gar
This consists of two unsewn pieces of wblte woo1len
cloth, ofwmch is wound around tllewaist and reaches
below the knees, \\'hiJe the other is slung loosely around
shoulder, with the head reason for
this attire, goes back to injunction of the Prophet, is
that during the hajj there should feeling of strangeness
between the Faithful who ftock together from the corners of
the world to visit the House of God, between
and nations, between and high and low, 50 that
know that thcy are equal before God and
And there disappeared from our ship the colourful
clothing of the men. could longer see the red Tunisian
tarbuslles, the sumptuous ofthe Moroccans, the gaudy
gaJlabiyyas of the Egyptian/ellahin: everywherearound there
was only this white cloth, devoid of any adornment,
draped over bodies which were now moving with greater dignity.
visiblyaffected this cllange to the state of pi1grimage. Because
the il,ram would expose too of their bodies, women
grims keep to their usual garments; but as our sblp these
were bIack wblte - the black gowns of the Egyptian and
the white ones of the North African women - they did not bring
touch of into the
At dawn of the thirdday the sblp dropped before the
coast of Most of us stood at the and gazed toward
land that was slowly rising out of mists of the morning.
sides could see silhouettes of other pilgrim ships,
and between them and the land and
streaks in the water: submarine reefs, part ofthat long, in
hospitabIe wblch 1ies before the eastern shore of the Red
Sea. Beyond to\vard the east, there was something like
hill, low and dusky; but wheI1 the sun rose behind it, it suddenly
eeased to and town sea, climbing from
its rim toward the centre with blgher and lllgher houses, small
delicate structure of rose and yellow-grey coral stone: the port
town of Jidda. and could discern carved, latticed
windows and the wooden screens of baJconies, to wblch the
humid air h:.d in the course of years imparted uniform grey
359 BND ROAD
green coIour. minaret jutted in the nUddle, white and
straight like an uplifted finger.
Again the 'Labbayk, AllaJlumma, labbayk!' was raised -
joyful of se1f-surrender and enthusiasm that swept the
tense, white-garbed pi1grims board the water toward the
land of their supreme hopes.
and mine: to the sight cf the of
was the climax of years of search. 1 looked at Elsa,
wife, who was companion that pilgrimage, and read the
same feeling in l:.er eyes ...
And then we sa...! host ofwhite wings darting toward us
the mainland: coastal boats. With Latin sails they skim
med the flat softly and soundlessly winding their way
through fords betwr;en invisibIe reefs - the first emissaries
of ready to :"eceive us. As they glided closer and closer
and, in the end, flocked together with swaying masts at the side
of the ship, their sails folded one after another with rush and
swishing and flapping as if flight of giant herons had alighted
for feeding, and out of the silence of moment ago there arose
screeching and shouting their midst: it was the shouting of
the boatmen who now jumped from boat to boat and stormed
the ship's ladder to get hold of the pilgrims' baggage; and the
pilgrirns \vere 50 filled with excitement at the sight of the
Land that they allowed things to to them without de
fending them5elves.
were and the oftheir hulls
strangely with the beauty and slimness their high
masts and sails. It must have in such boat, or perhaps in
somewhat largerone the same kind, that the bold seafarer
Sindbad set out to run into unasked-for adventures and to land
an island which in truth - - was the back of
whale ... And in similar ships there sailed, 10ngbefore Sindbad,
the Phoenicians south\vard through this same Red Sea and
through the Arabian Sea, seeking spices and incense and the
treasures of Ophir ...
And now we, puny successors of those heroic voyages, sailed
across the sea, skirting the undersea reefs in wide curves:
pilgrims in white garments, between cases and boxes and
trunks and bundles, dumb host trembling with expectation.
r, too, wa5 expectation. But how could 1foresee, as 15at
360 ROAD
inthe bow of the boat, tbe hand of in hand, that tbe
simple enterprise of pi1grimage would so deeply, and so
pletely, cbange lives? Again 1 compelled to tblnk of
Sindbad. 'Vhen left the shores of bls homeland, - like
self - bad inkling of what the future would bring. did
foresee, desire, those strange adventures that were to
wanted only to trade and to gain while 1
wanted than to perform pilgrim.age: when the
things that were to to and to bappened,
neither of us was ever again to look the \vorld with bls
old eyes.
nothing so fantastic evercame way as tbe.jinns and
the enchanted maidens and the gjant bird Roc that tbe sailor
from had to contend with: but, the less, that first
pilgrimage of was destined to into life than
all his voyages together bad done to For Elsa, death waited
abead; and neither of us bad premonition bow near it was.
And as to myself, 1 knew that 1 had left the West to live among
the Muslim$; 1 did know that 1 was leaving entire
past behind. Without waming, old world was coming to
end: the \vorld of Western ideas and feelings, endeavours and
imageries. door was silently closing beblnd so silently tbat
1 was aware ofit; 1 thought it would ajourney like the
earlier joumeys, when wandered through foreign lands, al
ways to return to one's past: the days were to cbanged
entirely, and with them the direction of desire.
Bt TIME 1 HAD already seen countries of the
East. 1 knew Iran and Egypt better tban country of Europe;
had long since ceased to strange; the bazaars of
Damascus and Isfahan were familiar to And so 1 could not
feel, 'How trivial,' when 1 \valked for the first time through
bazaar in Jidda and saw only loose mixture and form1ess re
petition of what elsewhere in tlle East could observe in far
greater bazaar was covered witb planks and
sackcloth as protection against the steaming heat; of holes
and"cracks tbln, tamed sun rays shone through and gilded .the
twilight. kitchens before Negro boys were roasting
small pieces of 011 spits over glowing charcoaI; coffee shops
361 END ROAD
with bumished brass utensils and settees made palm fronds;
meaningless shops fuH European and Eastem junk. Every
where sultriness and smell of fish and coral dust. Everywhere
crowds people - innumerable pilgrims in white and the
colourful, worldly citizens of Jjdda. in whose faces, clothes and
manners met all the countries of the Muslim world: perhaps
father from India, wblle the mother's father - himselfprobably
mixture of and Arab - have married grandmother
\\'110 her father's side descended fromUzbegs and her
mother's side possibly from SomaHs: 1iving traces of the
turies of pi1grimage and of the IslanUcenvironment wblch knows
colour bar and distinction between races. In addition to
this indigenous and pilgrim-borne confusion, Jidda was in those
days (1927) the only place in the in wblch non-Muslims
allowed to reside, You could occasiona1ly see shop signs in
European writing and in white tropical dress with sun
helmets hats their heads; over the consulates fluttered
foreign fiags.
All tl1is belonged, as it were, not yet so to the mainland
as to the to the sounds and smells of the port, to the ships
riding at anchor beyond the pale coral streaks, to the fishing boats
with white triangular sails - to world not unlike that of
the Mediterranean. houses, though, were already little
ferent, to the breeze with ricbly moulded carved
wooden window frames and covered balconies, thinnest screens
of wood that permitted the inmates to 100k out without
drance into the but prevented the passerby from seeing the
interior; tbls woodwork sat like grey-green lace the waIIs
of rose coral stone, delicate and extreme!y harmonious. was
longer the Mediterranean and not yet quite it was the
coastal world of the Red Sea, which produces simiIar architec
ture both its sides.
Arabia, howevcr, announced itself already in the steely sky,
the naked, rocky hills and ,sand dunes to\vard tIle east, and in
that breath of greatness and that scarcity wblch always
so strangely intermingled in an landscape.
TN AFTERNOON OF tlle next day our caravan started
the road to \vindin)! its through crowds of pilgrims.
362 ROAD
beduins, camels with and without litters, riding-camels, gaily
caparisoned donkeys, toward the eastem gate of the town. Off
and motorcars passed us - Saudi Arabia's earIiest motorcars
- loaded with pi1grims and no]sy with their horns.
seemed to sense that the new monsters were their enemies,
thcy shied every time approaehed, franticaIIy veeririg
toward house wa11s and moving their 10ng necks bither and
thither. confused and helples$'. new time was threateningly
dawning these 1311, patientAnimals, filling them with fear and
apocalyptic forebodings.
After while we left the white city wa11s behind and found
selves at in the desert - in wide greyish-brown.
desolate, dotted with thorny bushes and patches ofsteppe grass,
with 10w, isolated hi1ls growing out ofit Iike islands in sea, and
hedged in to the east somewhat higher, rocky ranges, bluish
grey, jagged of outline, of alllife. over that forbidding
plain there plodded caravans, of them, in 10ngprocessions
- hundreds and thousands of camels - behind animal in
single file, loaded with litters and pi1grims and baggage, some
times disappearing behind and then reappearing. Graduatly
their paths converged onto single, sandy road, created
the tracks of simi1ar caravans long eenturies.
In the silenee of the desert, which was underlined rather than
broken the plopping of the camels' feet, the occasional calls of
the beduin drivers and the 10w-toned singing of pilgrim and
there, 1 was sudderily eerie sensation - so
whelming sensation that might almost it vision: 1saw
myself bridge that spanned invisible abyss: bridge so
long that the end which 1 had was already 10st in
misty dis13nce, while the other end had hardly to unveil
itself to the 1 stood in the middle: and heart contracted
with dread as 1saw myself thus halfway between the t\VO ends
the bridge - already too from the and not yet close
enough to the other - and it seemed to for 10ngseconds, that
1 would always to remain thus between the two ends,
ways the roaring abyss
- Egyptian woman the before sud
denly sounded' the ancient pilgrim's cry, 'Labbayk, Allahumma,
labbayk!' - and dream broke asunder.
From sides you could people and murmuring
363
END OF
in tongues. Sometimes few pilgrims ca11ed Qtlt in
'Labbayk. Alla/lumma, labbaykZ' - Egyptianfellah woman
sang song in honour of Prophet, whereupon another
uttered ghatrafa, joyful of womeB (which in
Egypt is zag/lruta):. shrill, high-pitched which
women raise festive occasions -like marriage, childbirth,
circumcision, religious processions all kinds and, of
pilgrimages. In the knightly times, when the
daughters of cbleftains used ride war with the of their
tribe in order to spur greater bravery it
garded extreme dishonour aHow one of these maidens
killed, still \\'orse, the the gllatrafa
was often heard field of battle. .
Most of the pi1grims in litters - two - and
the Io11ing motion of these contraptions gradually made
dizzy and tortured nerves, 50 unceasing was pitching
and rocking. dozed exhausted few moments, was
awakened sudden jolt, slept again, and awoke again. From
time to time the drivers,. who accompanied the
foot, caHed to their animals. another of them
5ionaHychanted in rhythm with the long-drawll-out step the
camels.
Toward morning reached were
the day; the heat permitted only during the night.
village - in reality nothing line of shacks,
coffee shops, few huts of palm fronds and smaH mosque
- was the traditional caravans halfway between
Jidda and landscape was the same as it had
the way since we left the coast: desert with isolated hills and
there and higher, blue mountains in the east wblch separatoo
coastal lowlands plateau of Central now
this desert around us resembled buge with in
numerable tents, camels, Iitters, bundles, confusion of
tongues - Hindustani, Malay, Persian, Somali, Turkish,
Pashtu, and God knows bow This was
gathering of nations; but was wearing the
leveling ihram, differences of origin were hardly noticeabIe
and the races appeared almost like
pilgrims were tired after tbe night but
few among them knew how to utilize this time rest; to
364 R.OAD
them travelling must have very unusual enterprise, and to
it was the first joumey of their lives - and such joumey,
toward such goal! had restless; they had to
about; their hands had to search for something to do, even ifit was
than opening and retying their bags and bundles: other
wjse would have 10st to the world, would
tirely '1ost oneself in unearth1y happiness as in sea ...
This seemed happened to the family in the tent next to
apparently pilgrims village. hardly
word, cross-Iegged the gt'ound and stared
fixedly toward the east, in the direction into the desert
that was fil1ed with shirnmering heat. There was such faraway
in their faces that you felt: they were already the
House God, and almost in were
remarkabIe beauty, with. shoulder-long hair and glossy
black beards. One of them lay ill his side crouched
two young women, like colourfullittIe birds in their voluminous
red-and-blue trousers and si1ver-embroidered tunics, their thick
black tresses hanging down their backs; the younger the two
had tmn gold ring in nostril.
In the afternoon the sick died. women did not raise
lament as they so often do in Eastern countries: this
had died the sacred soil, and \vas thus blest.
washed the corpse and wrapped it in the same white
cloth ,which had wom as his last garment. Thereafter
them the cupped his hands to his mouth and
out loudly the to 'God is the Greatest, God js
the Greatest! God God, and Muhammad is
God's Messenger! ... the dead! God have
upon And sides the ihram-clad flocked to
gether and lined in rows behind imam like soldiers
When the prayer was over, they dug old
read few passages the and then they threw
sand over the dead pi1grim, who lay his side, his faced turned
toward
BEFORE S UNRISE ON SECOND morning the sandy plain
narrowed, the hills grew closer together; we passed through
gorge and saw in the pale light of da'.vn first buiIdir.g5 01
365 BND ROA.D
then we entered the streets of the City with the
rising sun.
houses resembled those in .Jidda with their carved orie1
windows and enclosed ba1conies; but the stone of which they
were built seemed to 00 heavier, massive than the light
coloured coral stone of Jidda. It was still early in the
in, but already thick, brooding heat was growing. Beforemany
of the houses stood which exha':!sted were sleep
ing. Narrower and narrower the streets through
which our rocking caravan moved toward the centre of the city.
As few days remained the festival of the the
crowds in the streets were lal"ge. Innumerable in the
wh,ite and others who had temporarily changed againinto
their everyday clothes - clothes from countries ofthe Muslim
\vorld; water carriers bent under waterskins or under
yoke weighted two old cans used as buckets;
donkey drivers and riding-donkeys with tinkling bells and gay
trappings; and, to make the confusion complete, camels coming
from the opposite direction, loaded with empty litters and 001
lowing in various tones. There was such in the narrow
streets that might thought the /lajj was not thing that
had taken place for centuries but surprise for which
the people had not prepared. In the end our caravan ceased
to caravan and disorderly tang]e of camels, litters,
baggage, pilgrims, drivers and noise.
1had arranged from Jidda to stay in the house of well-known
or pilgrim's guide, of Hasan Abid, but there
seemed to little of finding him or house in this
chaos. sudden1ysomeone shouted, 'Hasan Abid! Where are
pilgrims for Hasan Abid ?'- and, like from out of
bottle, young appeared before us and, with deep bow, re
questedthat we follow had sent Hasan Abid to
lead us to his house.
After opulent breakfast served the mutalvl'r'ij, 1 out,
led the same young had received us earlier. to the
Holy Mosque. We walked through the teeming, buzzing streets,
past butcher shops with rows of sk.inned sheep hanging OOfore
them; past vegetable vendors with their goods spread straw
mats the ground; amidst swarms of flies and the smell of
vegetables, dust and perspiration; through narrow, co\'cred
366 ROAD
bazaar in whicb only clothiers had their shops: Cestival
colour. As elsewhere in the bazaars of Westem Asia and North
Africa, the shops were nicbes about yard ground
level, \vith.the shopkeeper sitting cross-legged, surroundcd
his OOlts cloth of all materials and colours, whJle
hung in rows aIl manner of dress articles for the nations
of the uslim world.
And, again, there were people of al1 races and garbs
pressions, with turbans and bareheaded; some who
walked silently with lowered heads, perhaps with rosary in
t.heir hands, and others who were running light feet through
the crowds; supple, brown boclies ofSomalis, shining like
. trom between the folds of theit toga-like garments; Arabs from
the blghlands of the interior, lean figures, narrow of proud
of bearing; heavy-limbed, thickset Uzbegs from Bokhara, who
in tbls heat had kept to their qui1ted kaftans and
knee-high leather OOots; sarong-clad Javanese girls with
faces and almond-shaped eyes; Moroccans, slow of stride and
dignified in their white burnuses; Meccans in white tunics, their
heads with ridiculously small white skullcaps; Egyptian
fellahin with excited faces; wblte-clad Indians with black eyes
peering from under voluminous, snow-wblte turbans, and
Indian women so impenetrably shrouded in their wblte burqas
that they looked like walking tents; huge Fullata Negroes from
Timbuktu in indigo-blue robes and red skullcap.s;
and petite Cblnese ladies, like embroidered butterflies, tripping
along minute, bound feet that resembled the hooves
gazelles. shouting, thronging in directions, so
that fclt were in the midst of breaking waves of which
you could grasp some detai1s but never integrated picture.
Everything floated amid bun of innumerable languages, hot
gestures and excitement - unti1 we found ourselves, suddenly.
before of the gates of the Haram,the Holy Mosque.
It was triple-arched gate with stone steps climbing up to it;
the threshold sat half-naked beggar, stretcblng his
emaciated hand toward us. And then 1saw for the first time the
inner square of the sanctuary, laybelow the level the
!:itreet - much 10wer than the threshold - and thus opened itself
the like bowl: huge quadrangle surrounded sides
many-pil1ared cloisters with arches, and in its
I!ND ROAD 367
centre about forty feet blgh, draped in bIack, with broad
band of gold-embroidered verses from the Koran runnillg
round the upper portion of the covering: the ...
This, then, was the the goal of longing for so
of people for 50 many centuries. reach this goa\,
countless pilgrims had made heavy sacrifices throughout thc
had died the way; had reached it only
great privations; and to of them tbls small, square bui1ding
\vas the of their desires, and to reach it meant fulfi1ment.
There it stood, a1most perfect cube (as its
notes) entirely covered with bIack brocade, quiet isl;,nd i.1 the
middle ofthe vast quadrang1e of the mosque: much quieter
other work of architecture anywhere in the world. It \J 'ould
almost that who fust built the - for the
time of Abraham the original structure has rebuilt several
times in the same shape - wanted to create parabIe of man's
humility before God. builder knew that beauty of archi
tectural rhythm and perfection of however great, could
ever do justice to idea of God: and so confined hirnsclf to
the simplest three-dimensional form - cube
stone.
1 had in various Muslim countries mosques in wblch the
hands of great artists b.ad created inspired works of 1 had
mosques ii1 North Mrica, shimmering prayer-palaces of
and wblte alabaster; the Dome of the Rock in
powerfully perfect cupola over delicate understructure,
dream of lightness and heaviness united without contradiction;
and the majestic buildings of Istanbul, the Sulaymaniyya, the
Yeni-Valide, the Bayazid Mosque; and those ofBrussa, in Asia
Minor; and the Safavid mosques in Iran - roya] hannonics of
stone, multicoloured tiles, mosaics, huge stalacite por
tals over silver-embossed doors, slender'minarets \\'ith alab.::.ster
and galleries, qUJ.ndra!1gles \vith
fountains age-old plantain trees; and t!!e migllty ruil1S of
Tamerlane's in Samarkand, in their
decay.
AlI these I - but never had 1 felt so stroogly as
before the that the hand ofthe builder had 80close
to religious conception. ln the utter simplicity of in
comp1ete renunciation of all beauty of and form, 8poke
368 ROAD
tbls thought: "Whateverbeauty to create with
his bands, it will on1y conceit to deemit worthy God; there
fore, the simplestthat conceiveis the greatest that
do to express the g10ry of God.' similar feeling have
responsible for the simpHcity of the Egyptian
pyramids - although there man's conceit had at least found
vent in the tremendous dimensions gave to bls buildings. But
here, in the even the size spoke renunciation
and self-surrender; and the proud modestyOftllis little structure
had compare eartb.
18 ONL entrance into the - silver
sbeathed door tbe northeast side, about seven feet above
ground level,so tbat i.t only reached meansof
wooden wbich is placed before the door few days
the year. interior, closed (1 saw it only later
occasions), is very simple: rnarble floor with fewearpets and
lamps ofbronze and silver hanging from roofthat is supported
heavy wooden beams. ActuaUy, this interior special
significance of its for the sanctity of the applies to
the whole building, wblch is the qibla - that the direction
- for the entire Islamic world. It is toward this symbol
God's Oneness that hundreds of millions of Muslims world
over tum their faces in prayer times day.
Embedded in thc eastern corner of the building and left
covered is dark-coloured stone surrounded broad silver
frame. Black Stone, whicb has kissed hollow
generations of has the cause of misunder
standing arnong non-Muslims, believe it to fetish taken
over Mubammad as concession to the pagan Meccans.
Nothing could farther from truth. Just as the is
ject of reverence but not of worship, so too is the Black Stone.
lt is reveredas only remnant Abraham's original building;
and because the lips of Muhammad touched it his Farewell
Pilgrimage, pilgrims have done the same ever since. Pro
phet was well aware that ]ater generations of Faithful
would always foUow his example: and when kissed the stone
knew that it tbe lips of future pilgrims\vouldforever meet
memory lips in the symbolicembrace tbus offered,
END OF ROAD 369
beyond time and beyond death, to his entire commuriity. And
the pi1grims, when they kiss the Black Stone, feel that they are
embracing the Prophet and the Muslims who
before them and those who will after them.
No Muslim would deny that the had existed long 00
fore the Pcophet Muhammad; indeed, its significance lies
ciselyin this fact. Prophet did not claim to the founderoof
new religion. the contrary: self-surrender to God - [s!att1
has according to the 'man's natural inclination'
since tl1e da\\11 of consciousness; it was this that
and Moses and Jesus and the other Prophets of God had
teaching - the message of the OOing but the last of
the Divine Revelations. Nor would Mus1im deny that the
< sanctuary had full of idols and fetishes Muhammad
broke them, just as Moses had broken the golden calf at Sinai:
for, long before tbe idols were brought into the the
God had worshipped there, and thus did
than restore Abraham's temple to its original
AND THERE 1 STOOD the temple of and
gazed at the marvel \vithout thinking (for thoughts and reflec
tions only much later), and out of some hidden, smiling
kemel within there slowly grew an elation like song.
Smooth slabs, with reflections dancing upon
tbem, covered the ground in wide circle around the and
over these slabs walked people, and women,
round and round the of God. Among them
were some who wept, some who loudly called to God in
and who had words and tears but could only walk
with lowered heads ...
It is part the hajj to walk seVen times around the
not just to show respect to tbe central sanctuary of IsIam but to
to oneself the basic demand of IsIamic The is
symboI of God's Oneness; and the pilgrim's bodiJy movement
around it is symbolic expression of human activity, implying
that not thoughts and feelings ..,. that is comprised
in the terrn 'inner - but also our outward, active our
doings and practical endeavours must have God as their centre.
And 1, too, moved slowly forward and part of thc

370 It.OAD
circulai flow arQund 0fI' and 1 conscious
man or woman near isolated pictures appeared
ingly before and vamshed. was huge Negro
white ihram, with wooden rosary slung like chain around
powerful, black wrist. An old Malay tripped along side
for while, bls anns dangling, as ifin helpless confusion,
his batik sarong. under bushy brows - to whom did it
belong? - and now lost in the crowd. Among the people in
front of the Black Stone, young Indian woman: she was
viously in her narrow,delicate lay strangely open
visible to onlooker's like the life of fishes and
algae in the depths of crystal-clear pond. hands with their
pale, upturned palms were stretched out toward the and
her fingers trembled as if in accompaniment to wordless
prayer ...
1 walked and the minutes all that had
small and bitter in heart began leave heart, 1
part of circular stream - was this the meaning of what we
were doing: to aware that is part of movement in
an orbit? Was this, perhaps, all confusion's end? And the
minutes dissolved, and itself stood still, and this was tJ.e
centre of the universe ..
NINB DAYS BLSA DIED.
She died suddenly, after less than week's \ at
first had seemed to more than indisposition to heat
and the unusual but latertumed out to obscure
tropical ailment before which the Syrian doctors at the hospital
of stood helpless.. Darkness and utter despair closed
around
She was buried in the sandy graveyard of stone was
placed over her grave. 1did not want inscription it; think
ing of an inscription waslike tbinking of the future: 1 could
not conceive of future now.
E1sa's little son, rcmained with for over year
ac::cclmpanied first into the ofArama
valiant, ten-year-old But after 1 had to
good-bye to him \vell; for his mother's fina1ly per
suad.ed that must sent to school Europe; then
END 371
notblng of Elsa and stone in
graveyard and darkness that was not lifted untillong
afterward, 10ng after 1 had given 'J11yself up to the tirneless
brace of Arabia.
-6
NJGHT IS FAR ADVANCED, but we continue to sit
round the gli.mmering campfire. Said has now emerged from
the raging tempest of bls passion; his eyes sad and
what tired; speaks to us of Nura as might speak of dear
person that has died 10ng ago.
'She was not beautifu1, know, but 1 10ved .. .'
above us is full with the fullness of living being. No
wonder the Arabs thought it to of the 'daugh
ters of God' - the 10ng-haired Al-Lat, goddes5 of fertility, who
was said to communicate her mysterious powers of procreation
to the earth and thus to beget new life in humans and In
her honour, the young and women of ancient and
Taif used to celebrate the nights of the full in
revels and unrestrained love-making and poetic contests. Out of
earthenware pitchers and leathem bottles flowed the red wine;
and because it wa5 so red and 50 full of excitement, the poets
likened it in their wild dithyrambs to the blood of women.
proud and passionate youth poured exuberance into the lap
of Al-Lat, 'whose loveliness is like the shine of the when it
is full, and whose loftiness is like the fiight ofbIack herons' - the
ancient, youthfully mighty goddess who had spread her wings
from South Arabia to the north and had reached distant
Hellas in the shape of Leto, the mother
From diffuse, vague nature worship of Al-Lat and host
of other deities to the sublime concept of the God of the
it was long road that the Arabs had to travel. But,
after has always loved to travel the roads of his
spirit, here in Arabia less than in the rest of the world: has
loved it so much that his history indeed be'described as
the history of quest for faith.
With the Arabs, tbls quest has always aimed at the Absolute.
Even in their earliest times, when their imagination filled the
world around them with multitude of gods and demons, they
\",cre evcr conscious the who dwelt in majesty over the
372
deities - an invisible, ungraspable Omnipotence far the
humanIy conceivable - the Etemal Cause effects.
goddess Al-Lat and her divine sisters, Manat and Uzza, were
more than 'God's daughters', mediators between the Unknow
able and the visible world, symbols of the incomprehensible
forces that surrounded thechildhood of but deep in the
background thought, knowledge of the was
always present, always readyto 8are into conscious faith. How
else uld it ? were people that had gro\vn in
and solitude between hard sky and hard earth; hard
was their in the midst of these austere, endless spaces; and so
they could not escape the longing after Power that would
compass all existence with and severity
and wisdom: God the Absolute. dweHs in infinity and radi
ates into infinity - but because are within working, is
closer 10 Ihan \'ein in neck ...
CAMPFIRE HAS DIED down. zayd and Said are
asleep, and nearby our three dromedaries the
blanched sand and chew their cud with soft, crunching sounds,
pausing from time 10 Good animals ... Sometimes
them shifU its position and rubs with the surface of its
chest against the ground and occasionaHy blows as if .
sighing. Good anlm81s. are without expression,
quite different from horses, which are always so clearly outlined
in their characters; yes, different from t11e other animals
wblch uses :... just as the desert steppc to which they belong
is different from all other landscapes: without definite expres
sion, swinging between contradictions, moody, and nevertheless
infinitely modest.
1cannot sleep, and so 1wander away from the and
of the bll!ocks close hangs low over the
horizon and lights the low, rocky hil1s \vruch rise like
phantoms out the dead plain. From onward, the coastal
lowlands of the Hijaz flow toward the west in soft incline:
series of valleys tom winding, dry stream beds. bar
ren of alllife. \vithout villages, without houses, wit110ut trees
rigid in their nakedness under the And yet it was
from this desolate.lifeless land, from amidst these
373 END OF ROAD
and naked hills, that the most life-affirmil1g faith of man's his
tory sprang forth ...
Warm and sti11 is the night. Half-light and distal1ce make the
hil1s and sViay. Under the shine the pale,
shimmer vibrates, and through this pale blueness glides
escent hint, ghostly of the colours
but the unearthly blueness subdues them melting witllOut
transition into \vhat the horizon, and is Iike sum
mons unfathomable, unknowable things.
Not hiddel1 in the midst this
lifeless wilderness of valleys and f1il1s, lies plain of Arafat,
which the pi1grims \vho to assemble day
of the as reminder of Last Assembly,
to ans\ver to his has donc in Iife.
often have 1 stood there myself, bareheadcd, in the \1;'llite
garb, among multitude of \vhite-garbed, bareheaded pilgrims
continents, faces turned t.)\vard the Jabal
Rahma - the - \vhkh riscs out the
plain: standing and v.'aiting through thc througl}
reflecting upon ineseapabJe Day, '\\/hen you!will
posed to view, and of yours \'/ill remain ...
And as 1 the hillcrest and gazc dov,:n toward the in
visible Arafat, the moon!it of t!-,e landscape
before 50 dead moment ago, 5udden!y to life with
the currents of tllat passed through it
and is fil!ed with the eerie voices the mi!!ions and
women who v.'alked ridd(:n between and Arafat in
thirteen !1Undred pilgrimages for hundred
years. Their voices and their steps and the voices and tllC steps
oftheir animals reawaken and resound anew; 1see them walking
and riding and assembling - those myriads of whitc-garbcd
piJgrirns thirteen hundred years; 1 thc sounds tllair
passed-a\vay days; the wings of the faith which has drawn them
together to this Iand of rocks and sand and seeming deadness
beat again \\'ith the warmth life the of centuries, and
the mighty \vingbeat dra\vs ihto its orbit and draws own
passed-away days into the present_ I.am riding
over the plain
- riding in thundering gaJlop the plain, amidst lhou
sands and thousands of i/lram-c]ad beduins, returning from
314
Arafat to - of that roaring, earth-shaking,
irresistibIe wave of countless gaUoping dromedaries and
with the tribaI banners their blgh poles beating 1ikedrums in
the wind and their war cries tearing through the air:
Rmt.oga, Rawga!' wblch the Atayba tribesmen evoke their
ancestor's answered the Aw/!' of the Barb
and the defiant, Shammar, Shammar!'from
the farthest right wing of the
We ride rushing, Bying over the plain. and to it seems
tbat we are Bying witb tbe abandoned to happiness that
knows neitber end nor 1imit ... and tbe wind sbouts wild
ofjoy into ears: 'Never again. never again. never again
wi11 stranger!'
brethren tbe right and brethren tbe left, of
tbem to but stranger: in the tumultuous joy
of our cbase, we are body in pursuit of goal. Wide is tbe
world before and in our glimrners spark of the
that burned in tbe of the Prophet's
know. bretbren the right and brethren the left. that
they fal1ensbort what was expected of thcm, and that in
the flight of centuries their grown smal1: and yet,
the promise of fu1filment has not taken from tbem ...
from us ...
in tbe surging bost abandons tribal for
of faitb: 'We are the brethren of him who gives bimself to
God!' - and anotber joins in: 'Allahu akbar!' - 'God is tbe
Greatest! - God alone is Great {'
And tbe detachments take tbis
10nger Najdi beduins reveUingin tbeir tribal pride: theyare
who know tbat tbe secrets of God are but waiting for tbem
... for ... Amidst the din of the thousands of rusbing
camels' feet and tbe flapping of bundred banners, tbeir
grows into roar oftriurnph: 'Allahuakbar!'
It Bows in mighty waves over the heads of the tbousands of
ga1loping rnen. over "thewide plain, to tbe ends of the eartb:
Alltihu akbar!' grown their Iittle
1ives, and now their faith sweeps them forward, in oneness, to
ward sorne uncbaJ1ed borizons ... Longing longer re
smaU and bldden; it found its awakening, bl.inding
sunrise of fu1filment. In tbis strides a10ng in
01'
God-1Pven spendour; bis stride is joy, and bis know1edse is .
freedom, bls world sphere without bounds ...
smen of the dromedaries' bOdies, their panting and 8oort
thunderingoftheir innumerabJc feet; the shoufingofthe
the clankingofthe riflesslung saddJe-pegs. the dust and
the swcat and the wildlyexated around and sudden,
gIad stillne5$ within
1 tum around in saddle and behind the waving,
weaving mass thousands wblte-c1ad riders and,
them, the bridge over which1 have its end isjustbehind
while its is aIready Iost in the distance.
INDEX
Abd aI-Aziz ibn Saud 01 saudi
Arabia): Ibn Saud
Abd 313
Abd 313
Abd Muhanunad ibn, 159
tr, 174 (, 232 .
Abd ar-Rahman (father Ibn
Saud), 164 tr, 171
Abd ar-Rahman as-Siba'i, 231, 232 tr
Abduh, Muhanunad, 160, 188
Abdullah, (1ater
jordan, 109 tr, 198; his Talal,
112 & note
Abrabam.(in Old TestameDt), 43, 49 (,
56, 91, 186, 353 tr, 369 (see Q/.ro
and Ishmael) .
Abu (Mubammad's sl1CCCSSOr
and Caliph), 232, 276, 279
Abu 323
Abu Said, 351 tr, 371
Academy Geopolitics, 299,
307
Ad-Dawisb, FaysaJ, 159, 173 (, 176,
221, 233 tr; his raid into lraq, 200,
221 '; leads revolt against
Ibn Saud. 224 tr, 229ff, 245 327
Adler, Alfred, 59
Afghanistan, 214, 295 (, 298
Agha, Ali; letter author, 253.tr,
, 272, 280; in Dasht-i-Lut desert
with author, 255
Salim, 16, 3J3
movement (in India), 160
Ahmad, Sayyid (the Sanusi), 40,
3]2 tr, 324 tr, 329, 332, 335 t, 343;
auacks Wor1d War 1, 317
(, 325, 337, 343; in 318
Ahmad, Shah lran, 267
Ajman, (tn"be), 226, 242, 247
AI"Afghani: see Jamal ad-Din al-
Afghani
AIAqsa Mosque (Jerusalem), 89
AI-Ataywish, 323
AlAzhar University (Cairo), 188 (,
193, 196
Abdullah, 233 tr
(An;b 348
AJeppo, 199,206
Alcxandria, 76, 79, 342
Algeria, 107,315 ,
AIHasa, " 226, 245
AI-Hufuf,176
Al-Idris, Sayyid Muhammad (1ater
king of 318, 320,337 tr
Ali (Muhanunad's $On-in-Iaw and
274 tr
Al-Jawf, 244
121
mathematiciar.),
"348
(goddess 371
Also SprQCl1 ZQrQlhustra (Nietzsche), 54
AI-Mahdi, Sayyid Muhammad, 315,
336
Shaykh 188 tr,
193
Amanullah. Afghanistan
214,296
109
Anayza, 233
cultural heritage: Muslim
Civilization
Independen<:e, 104 (, 112 312 tr
Arab-Jewish question, 92 tr, 105
9 Qndpassim
Arabian 102f, 108 131 fI', 221
ArabiQn Nights, 75, 157
Arafat. Plain 23, 373
220, 221, 247
107
Ar,.Rumma, Wadi, 236
Artawiyya, 221 226 f
Asad, as Pakistan's
Minister Plenipotentiary U.N, 1.
8; his conversion Islam, 1, 8,
16, 47, 89, 16.9 188, 197 (, 214 (,
295 ff, 305 tr, 309 tr; friendship
with Ibn Saud, 16 tr, 39; death
his wife Elsa, 16,38,40,47,360,
370; his 10 16,
23, 40, 47, 356 tr, 361 tr; is lost
in desert, 22 tr;
vanserai, 32 tr; mission
Cyrenaica, 40, 47, 322, 325 tr; Itis
Arab wife in Medina, 47, 154,283;
childhood in Poland and Austria,
50 tr; religious education, 55;
university studies in 57 tr;
jouma]istic career in
60 tr; interviews Gorky, 64
tr; his joUrney MiddJe East,
68 tr, ]36, ]84 (; reads Lao-tse, 71 tr;
his,stay in Jef\lS31em, 87 tr; becomes
special Frank/urter
Zeitung, 96 tr; book the
(Unromantis..ches Morgen/Qnd),
97, 138, 142 tr, 185; visits C8iro,
105 tr, 185, ]87 tr; and Transjordan,
377
378 INDBX
109 6; travels to and in Syria, 113 fI';
slays in Damascus, 125 If; rcads the
128 (,190 (, 214, 309
and Elsa, 14. (, 144, 300, 347, 360;
his marriage to child bride, 154
"; dreams future convcrsion
Islam, 168 ff; his serond journey to
Middle East, 185, 198 "; Islamic
studies in Cairo, 187 ff, 198: malaria
allack, 194, 196; first meeting with
Z1yd, 200; joumey from Aleppo
to Baghdad, 199 ff, 206; shooting
incident in bazaar Baghdad, 208
travels in Iran and Afghanis
210 ", 216, 255 If, 272 If, 296;
secret joumey to Kuwayt, 229 If;
writes articles revolt, 245
f; with ALi Agha in Dasht-i-Lut
desert, 255 fI'; Riza 270
If; retum to and marriage
Elsa, 300 306 {; first meeting witb
Sayyid Ahmad. 313; journey to
344 If
Atayba (tnbes), 225 If, 374
232
Az-Zughaybi, Shaykh, 252 (, 280
Az-Zuwayy, Sidi Muhammad, 312,
317,320 If, 324, 342

Baghdad, 38, 148 (, 205 fI', 210, 223,
234, 242; shooting incident in
208 f
363
234
324, 330 f,34O
Balfour Declaration (1917), 93, 99
Suef, 329, 331
117 f
38, 149, 228(, 233 (, 242, 246
court justice, 150 If
(/khwan) revolt against Ibn
Saud. 39 (,47, 159,222, 224 If. 228 ff,
246

51, 60 fI', 74, 96, 141,308
BibIe, The, 43,,50, 55, 91 (, 129, 186,
288,353 f
Birjand, 205
Bisayya, Fort 222 If
Bisha, \Vadi, 178
299, 366
234,
Buddhism, 4, 77
Cairo,1Cl5ff, 113, 185, 187 If. 194, 198,
234,317

Christianity, 75, 77 6, 147,192,
290, 295, 303, 308
5 ,292
Cyrenaica, 40, 314, 316 ff, 320 ff;
author'smissionto, 322, 315 , 3341f
Dajjal, of the, 292 If
Damascus,1I3f,1I9 1f,I29ff,198,20I,
205, 243 f, 245, 319; bazaar of, 115
(, 153 autbor's 12S
tf, 185
Dammerr, Dr., 63 (, 74
Dar'iyya, 160,232
Dasht-i-Lut c!esert, 254 If
David, (in Old Te;stameot), 90 (,
296 f .
Dayr azZor, 199,1f
.. 12, 23, 40, 79 f, 104, 107, 185,
314, 316, 320, 323 If, 328, 332, 337,
340 ff, 356, 360; rUIein, 105,
316 '
Farafra, 324, 340
Farhan ibo Mashbur, 243 f; 247
Faysal, Amir Ibo Saud),
17
FaysaJ, Iraq, 247
Faysal ad-Dawish: see Ad-Dawish
Frankfurt, 137, 299
Zeilf!1f6, 96 If, 105 (, 113,
13'ff, 141, 18S
L
198, 299, 306f
Freud, Sigmund.,8
114 f

Ghatghat, 224
Ghazni, 298
GQrky, Madame, 64 If
Gorky, Maxim, 64
Graziani. 321
Grasso 59
Jacob de, 98 (, 106, 112
Hafiz (Persian poet), 153, 213
Hagar aod Ishmael, in pre-Islamic
traditioD, 354 ff
Haifa, 113, 119, 246
Hall, 148 (, 162, 165, 173 (, 183, 220;
223, 231, 241, 247. 252; Ibn
Saud's conquest 159, 176; 209,
219,222,223
(pi1grimage to 252, 329,
369
Hamrnada Desert, 20_
Hanifa, VJadi, 232
Harb, (tribe), 22f1344, 374
Harun ar-Rashid, 201
Harut and Marut,legend of, 146 r, 161
(son Ali), 277 If
HaHn 365
Hash.ish, 36
INDEX 379
29S 298
thc. 17,84, 110, 137, 176, 118,
222,224,228,328,342, 361, 372
Hinduism,4, 147
Hindg.KUsb. 47,214,296
of, 14S,287
274 If
Bujad, Sultan, 224 If
Ibn Bulayhid,. Shaykh 182
C,18S 311
Hadhlayn, 226
Jablr sc:ientist), 348
Ibn Jiluwi, Abdul1ah, 171
Ibn Musaad. Amir, 149 If. 154. ISS.
162. 171 183.224,227,136
Ibn Rashid, 19, 165:- 209.
231; warfare between Ibn Saud and,
148. 158. 170 If. 175 (,181
Ibn Rashid, 165. 170 If.
181.
Rimal. Ghadhban, 154, 156 If
1 5aud, al-Aziz. 1, 12,
lS. 19. 148 (, 151, 169 1f,2OO, 231,
264. 320. 3S1; author's friendship
"ith, 16 39; his geoerosity. 20
r. 162: warfare between the
Rashid aod. 148. 158 (. 170 If.
I7S (. 181; beduin revo1t under Ad
Dawish against, lS9. 221. 214 . 227
. 23S. 245 326; his wife Jawhara,
163 his for his fatber Abd
Rahman, 164 conquest his
kingdom. 165, 171 . 17S 2.09. 219.
222; childhood reminiscenc:es, 16S (;
as champion 166. 177, 181,
325; dreams victorY over Ibn
Rashid, 171; and the 174 (,
223; his characteristit;s and railings,
117 ; opposes Faysal ad-Dawish,
223 ff' (su revo1t);
sends author secret mission to
Kuwayt. 229 ff
Ibn Saud. or, 160.232
. Ibrahim (author's servant). 32
, 20S(, 210, 257, 259, 271, 296
Ihe ('brethren'). 174 f, 223 (,
236. 243 (; revo1t against Ibn Saud.
224 If.227 If, 236, 239, 327
India. 2, 9, 23. 160,253
Indonesia, 2, 16. 313
lqbal, Muhammad, 2
lran. 32. 107, 130. 210. 260, 263,
267 (, 272.1f, 360; author's tra\'eis in,
210 fi'. 216. 255 If, 300; polilical
history of, 260, 264, 267 tr, (see a/so
Riza melancholy mood
274 fi', 278, 280; Sllia doctrine in, 277
If; conquest Sasanian
pire, 277 ff
Iraq, 12, 130, 149 206, 209 8', 219,
222 8',228,231,233, 247,
.292
lsiac (in 0Id Tcstament), 43
lsaiah, the 10,56
Isfahan, 206, 213, 360
Ishmael, su and Isbmacl
Islam, author's to, 1, 16,
47, 89, 169 184, 188, 197 214 f,
?-95! 298, 8', 310 If; Wes\'s pre
JudlCC S . 190, 291;
and 7S, 147,290, 303.
308; of oriPnal SiD in,
128, 147, 192; and Muslim c;ivili.
zation, 190 If, 277, 282 (,297,
304 and legend or and
Marut, 146 and Wahbabism, 110,
J60 [, 175 8aud as champion
166, 177, 18J, 315;an inteUectual,
emotional, proposition. 197,
300; absence of pricsthood iD, 215,
301 schism into and
. ShUtes. 276; its priociplo elcctive
success.ion to the Caliphatc. 216; in
lran (S1ria 271 8'; and
womao" socia1 POS.i110i1" 2j3 8', 297 ;
hostility to Muhammad's teadJing in
289 If; its nC the irue
fULction liOciety, 30) 11'; preseot
fai1ure to origina1
teaching of, 304 and the Sanusi
Order, 314 (, 327
Islamic cu1ture: seeMuslim civili2ation
Islamic Law, 39, 186,302, 328;
ing women. 284 {
Istamic scholai'ship, 188 If, 282 m
Ismail adh-Dhibl, 329 f
Jsta.nbul, 113, J36
JabaJ. Akhdar, 40, 332 If, 336,
(in Old Testament),188
Jaghbub, 314, 332, 340
332, 340
Jamal 160, 188
Java,23
Jeremiah, the Prophet, 56
Jerusalem, 8J, 87 If, 109,113,199
Je\vish-Arab qllestion, 92 8', 10S, 199
Jidda, 222, 245, 326, 358, 360 (,
363, 36S
Jihad, 160, 315, 314
Jinns, the. 14, 38.218 If, 360
Judaism, 55 7S, 353
the (in 17, 88, 313, 354,
356.367 If
Kabul, 214. 295 298, 360
Kandahar.298
Kantara,8O
Karbala, 206, 276
380 INDEX
110. 136, 268,
297.319
khadUa (wife Muhammad). 288
Ibn Saoo), 163
caravllDSel'8i. 32 IJ
210
(provinc:e 32, 216.
2S4f.2S8
274
Klilnische 307
the. 28.110.166.170.177.187.
195. 251. 285. 291. 295. 299 315.
369; author studics. 128 190. 214.
300 309 encouragesscieoceand
191 297; SIII'Q
214 reveJation to Muhammad
287 cohesion between its mora1
teacbiqa1lA its practical guidaoc:e.

Kurra. 324. 335 ff
Kucl1uk 266
Kuh, Antoa, 62
I(urdistalf: 211 tr.272
Kuwayt, 40. 149'. 166 170 IJ. 226
233 tr. 246.: apthor's sec:m
00,229 ff
Lao-tse. 71 IJ
Lawrence. . 155.243

Libya.47. 104.314 332; SliDusi figbt
independeoc:e 312, 317
Lw6w. 51. 54
the (tribe), 323
Mansur 183 197 214.

Marsa Matruh, 342 .
9. 16 ff. 37, 41, 68, 87. 89, 93,
164, 178 225, 253, 287, 320, 344IJ,
370; author's pilgrimages 16.23,
40, 47, 217, 356 ff, 361 ffj cave of
Hira oear, 145.287; Ibn Saud's
quest 176, 224 233; Muham
mad's in, 289 tr; Mosque
the at. 313, 365 ff; Sanusi
fraternity in, 314 Muhammad's
last pilgrimage 344. 368; and
story Hagar and Ishmae1. 354 .
Medina. 24, 41,89, 148, 154 (. 176.222,
224. 245. 249, 289. 312, 327.342,
344; 'City the Prophet. 248 (.251
the Mosque 249. 286
310; bazaar 250. 252; library
.
Meshhed. 205
Metulla, 116 (. 119 (, 123 f
104. 107
Moses. 145, 186,369 "
Mu'awiyya (fifth Caliph).276
Mubarak, Sbaykh of Kuwayt, 166"
171. 173 .
Muhammad, Prophet, 7. 86. 88,
166, 178. 187. 191 C.197. 232, 286
301 353. 369.; n:ve1ation in
cave 145, 'f87 bis city
248 251;.humanaess
251. 301; success9lS to the
caJiphate. 2.76 ff; tomb in
286; his wife 288;
hostility his teacbing in
289 tr; bis prophetic: mission, 301;
bis last pi!grimage to 344,
368
Muhammad Ibn Saud),
163
ibn Ali as 314
-Mujo/ridill, the (fighters the SliDusi
Order), 316 320 32.3 337 tr
Mumau, W. 61 f
Musaylima (the 1"a1se prophet'), 232
MusIim civilization, 153 348
European encroachment J04
190. 193,282 2.97. 304;
Is1am and, 153 190 279. 282
297.
Mus1im 'Catalism', 158 190
poet), 152
Mutayr, the (tribe). 220 222. 224
240. 247
Naif 247
Najd, 17. 19 23, 38,136,148 IS9
173, 175, 179, 183, 222 tr, 228, 231.
2.32 tr, 2SO
Neue Ziircher Zeitunz, 253. 307
Nietzsche, Friedrich, 54, 59
Nubla, 107
Nufud, 10 38. 43. 183. 244, 2S2
Nuri 243
Opium, 36, 255,
Original Sin, 77, 128. 147, 192
Palestine. 50, ii), 109, 112 116. 123
185, 228; Arab-Jewish question in,
92 tr, 105
Psychoanalysis, 58 (, 74. 168
Qasr Athaymin, 10 f
Qisma, 32
Rarnadan (month). 187 r
Ranya. 38
Riyadh.15, 17,20,38 (. 159.164. 165 r.
170. 172 ff. 223 ff. 227. 230 ff, 245.
247
Riyal (!;ilve!' coin), 234, 239ff. 243.245
Riza Miriister. later Shah
2S4, 264, 270 ff; rise to
f\Ower. :54, ff
INDBX 381
Riza Tawfiq Dr.,HOC
Russia, 64, 266, 299
Salih, Muhammad, 349
SaUum, 339
Order, 160, 313 fi'; earlyhistory
314 tf; waging war 1ndepen
dence iD 316, 318 tf, 326
ff, 334 11'; in World War 1,316
Saod, Amir (eldest Ibn
Saud, now Saudi
167 ff
5au1, KiDg (iD Old Testamcnt), 91
Schulenburg, Count \'00 der, 270
dervisbes at, 195 ff
Shakib ArsIan, Amir, 178
ShaqJ;8, 231 ff
Shanr the Hijaz, 93,
110, 176 181, 224, 233; SbarifiaD
CamiJy, 110, 222, 228
Shia doctrine, 277 ff
206
Dr. lleinrich, 137 306
Sinai Desert,81 11', 135, 184
Siwa, 331 340
Spain, 95, 192
Speng1er, 00, 59
Steek.1, 59
Sudan,107
Su\luba, the, 238 fI'
Sykes-Picot Agrcement (1917), 93
Syria, 50, 93, 95, 107, 130 149, 185,
192, 211, 229; author's travels to
and in, 113 tf, 198 ff
205
Ta'iC, 224 371
Talmud, 55
Tashkent, 299
10 21, 41, 68
TehJ;8n,206, 253 tf, 260, 264, 267 270
280; bazaar 260 fI'
Amsterdam), 307
Transjordan, 109, 185, 198, 228,
242
Tripoli, 198,
TripolitaDia, 316
Turkestan. 2.299
Turkey, 136, 175 185, 195, 1.99,210,
"243,316, 318 ff
(son King 100 Saud), 164
Umar (sec:ond Caliph), 277, 219
af-Mukhtar, Sidi, 40, 318, 320
ff, 326 335 11'
Umayyad Mosque (in Damascus), 121
United Telegraph, 63, 6s 73 97
u.s.s.a..,"Russia
USSYSIIkiD. 92
uthman (daird Caliph), 276,279, 286
der Dr., 137
Vienna, 51, 56, 74, 136 168
Vitel6, 194, 196
Wahbabism, 110, 159 232, 282; _
IIISO Abd Muhammad
ibn
Waraqa (kinsman MuIJ;immad's
wife). 288
Dr 94 ,ff
WorldWar 1, 56 f, 59, 70, 155, 175,
256, 266, 3Ji6
Zmviya (Iodge SanusiOrder), 314,
342
Zayd ibn Ghanim (author's
ion), 10 t1IIil pDSs;m; his physiquc
and characteristics, 11, 11, 67; joins
author in 37 68, 208; first
with.author, 200 saws
author's liCe in bazaar
208 and the Jinns, 219 237;
secret journey 10Kuwayt, 230 fI',
ff; mission to Cyrenaica, 327 ff
zia ad-Din Minister lran),
267
Zionism, 74, 92 ff, 105, 111, 185
Zoroastrian cult, 277