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Al-Ahram Weekly 22 - 28 June 2000 Issue No. 487 
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Published in Cairo by Al-Ahram established in 1875 |
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Al-Ahram Weekly 22 - 28 June 2000 Issue No. 487
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| Published in Cairo by Al-Ahram established in 1875 |
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Egypt Region International Economy Focus Opinion Culture Features Travel Living Sports Profile People Time Out Chronicles Cartoons Letters Al-Ahram:
A Diwan of contemporary life (343)
Fit for a king -- and at times his destitute subjects -- the simat was a banquet particular to the Arabs. While it inevitably conjures up grandeur images of One Thousand and One Nights, the first simat in Islam was humble, a modest meal of bread, oil and dates. From there it developed into opulence as dutiful servants waited over majestic men with greasy mouths gorging themselves, their attention riveted to the task at hand. This consuming passion had several purposes. It consolidated the power of rulers and won the affection of the ruled. It became a place for the nourishment of the soul where prose would be recited and the marvels of science related. From stories in the Al-Ahram of old, Dr Yunan Labib Rizk *presents this unique culinary experience and, by definition, food for thought
It's alimentary!
In early February 1924 the electoral battle that led to the overwhelming victory of the Saad Zaghlul-led Wafd Party seemed to have left one and all exhausted. With a certain languor that follows any post-victory euphoria, people settled down to await news of what the new government and parliament would bring. In the meantime, to fill the temporary vacuum of news from the corridors of power, Al-Ahram supplied its readers with reports of a different sort.
King Hussein
Salim Sarkis
At the time, Al-Sharif Hussein was on a state visit to Trans-Jordan. Of course, the visit was newsworthy; during World War I the Hashemite ruler of the Hijaz had led the Arab armies against the Turks in what became known as the Great Arab Revolt. But in the course of its coverage of this event, Al-Ahram mentioned that the Sharif of Mecca hosted a simat -- a particularly Arab type of banquet -- for Amman's political and social elite.
It could well have been that Al-Ahram readers would have ingested this morsel of information before Al-Sharif Hussein's guests had digested their delicious and sumptuous meal were it not that the simat evolved into an in-depth historical study, of a thoroughness and scholasticism that few Arab newspapers offered their readers.
The prelude took the form of an article that appeared in Al-Ahram on 9 February, entitled "What is the Hashemite Simat ? -- My information and personal testimony." The writer, Salim Sarkis, was a well-known Syrian journalist. In 1905, he founded a magazine bearing his name that earned him considerable repute in Arab journalistic circles. It was primarily a literary magazine featuring an array of stories, poems and literary criticism tinged with humour. Sarkis was one of the guests at the Sharif's banquet and his eyewitness account added a special flavour to his description.
He writes that the simat in which he partook featured "a square banquet table that filled the large reception hall. On the table was an innumerable variety of dishes, arranged so that a similar selection of the diverse items was placed before each individual. In the centre of the table were elevated platforms upon which were platters piled with cooked lamb. Surrounding the platforms were incense burners exuding their fragrant scents. Servants were stationed at the table, positioned in such a way so as to serve the lamb to the guests and to fill the plates as soon as they emptied."
To further sate the curiosity of his readers Sarkis adds that he counted 24 dishes and that the simat was intended to accommodate 80 people at a time. Once a group of guests had finished their meal, they would leave the banquet hall so that other guests could take their place. Al-Sharif Hussein's banquet that day served a total of 350 people who must have been amazed to find "the simat constantly replenishing itself with its copious bounty."
Sarkis then proceeds to offer readers a history of the simat. The simat, he writes, was "an unparalleled form of banquet hosted by Arab caliphs." In a comment probably prearranged with Al-Ahram, Sarkis urged his friend the distinguished scholar Ahmed Zaki Pasha to contribute his own knowledge on the subject. And indeed, only two days later the newspaper featured the first instalment of Zaki's lengthy and meticulously researched study on the simat.
At the time, Zaki was the highest reputed authority on Arab and Islamic culture, having dedicated over 30 years of his life "to the systematic exploration of diverse techniques to spread awareness and motivate concern for implementing the arts of reform necessary to revive Arab science and literature." In the process, Zaki accumulated an enormous library, much in the spirit that motivated the large personal libraries that characterised the widespread revival of interest in classical Greek and Roman arts and sciences during the European renaissance. This spirit was inspired by the notion that the best means to achieve a nation's intellectual resurgence was through the study and revival of its intellectual and literary heritage. For epitomising this spirit in Egypt, Zaki earned the title "The Sheikh of Arabism."
Zaki opens his series on "The Simat in the Islamic Empire" with the confession that not only had Sarkis preceded him in writing on this subject, which was of great interest to him, but had the additional advantage of having personally experienced one such festivity. "He, not I, partook in the delights of the Hashemite simat, although he really should have invited me to accompany him," he jested.
Zaki goes on to detail the emergence of the simat from within the folds of the nascent Islamic state. He relates that when "a messenger sent by Amr Ibn Al-'As to inform the Caliph Omar Ibn Al-Khatab that his general had conquered Egypt and occupied Alexandria, the caliph went with the messenger to the mosque and instructed the mu'azzin to sound the call to prayer. Once all the people had gathered, Omar told the messenger to announce the news of the victory. Then Omar prayed, after which he returned to his home, inviting the messenger with him, and he sat down."
Ahmed Zaki Pasha
It was on this occasion that the concept of the simat had its origins. Zaki goes on to relate, "The caliph then ordered his servant girl to fetch some food. She brought some bread and oil and the caliph commanded that the messenger eat. The messenger ate humbly. Omar then said, 'Eat, for the traveller needs nourishment. Were I hungry I would eat with you.' The messenger ate some more in deference to his host, after which Omar ordered his servant to fetch some dates. When she brought in a plate of the fruit, the caliph ordered his guest to eat, and so the messenger did. This was the first simat in Islam." And, indeed, it had humble beginnings -- a modest meal of no more than bread, oil and dates.
The concept of the simat in Islamic history acquired another facet under Othman Ibn Affan. Zaki writes that the third Muslim caliph established the custom of what today we call mawa'id al-rahman, dining tables set up to provide free food to worshippers and the destitute during Ramadan. However, the most important development occurred in the Ummayad era, marked by the shift of the caliphate from its sparse desert environment to the fertile pastures of Damascus.
After having wrested the caliphate from Ali Ibn Abi Taleb and having established the new capital of the Islamic empire in Damascus, the new caliph, Mu'awiya, had to devise means to win the affection of the people. The simat served his purpose nicely. According to Zaki, Mu'awiya was "a gourmand who loved other gourmands. It was he who created the diverse dishes that Damascus and the other areas of the Levant boast of until the present. Mu'awiya would eat five meals a day, the last being the heaviest. He was famous for saying, 'Boy, take (this food) away! I am not sated, by God, but I've grown bored.'"
Zaki notes that this caliph was particularly fond of mulukhiya for which reason the Fatimid Caliph Al-Hakim Bi Amr Allah, prohibited it in Egypt. This Shi'ite ruler of Egypt also forbade Egyptians from eating watercress because Aisha, the Mother of the Faithful, "had a great passion for it." The historian does not forget to add that as soon as the Fatimid state in Egypt collapsed Egyptians "resumed their age-old passion for mulukhiya and craving for watercress, a custom which has persisted until the present day."
According to Zaki, Mu'awiya also used the simat as a means to consolidate his power. "Every day," Zaki writes, "the caliph would host a simat consisting of 40 tables to seat the dignitaries and warriors of the Levant." But he adds, he did more than that. "He commanded that his agents in the provinces feed the homeless, destitute and needy, establishing a custom that was followed by Abdel-Malek Ibn Marwan as well as successive Ummayad Caliphs until the end of their dynasty."
Zaki observes that the new custom spread beyond the seat of the caliphate to all other Islamic provinces. This applied especially to Egypt whose governor would ensure that large urns of food were set up outside his residence in Fustat and that "a hundred other urns, mounted on wheels, would circulate among the various tribes." The Egyptian ruler's simat "embraced all, both near and far."
Zaki adopts the view that the collapse of the Ummayad dynasty in Damascus was the product of a process of dissolution as a result of its prosperous surroundings. As he put it, the Ummayads were of pure Arab Bedouin origin. Thus, "when they immersed themselves in the comforts of civilization, the bonds of tribal solidarity loosened. As a result the Ummayad star set in the east for its dazzling sun to rise again in the far west (Andalusia)."
The Abbasid dynasty that wrested power from the Ummayads in the east and that would eventually found its capital in Baghdad was different. This state "was built on the shoulders of the Persians and was thus imbued with the Aryan spirit, with its Pahlevi traditions, its Sassanid glory and the splendour of Khosrau." In this environment the simat would no longer be purely Arab in character, but rather a blend, on the one hand, of "the well-known Arab morals, innate virtues and generosity and spirit of charity." On the other "was what they acquired from the legacy of the ancient Persians. This formed their constitution, the manner in which they ruled, methods of policy and customs in all matters of civilization."
As a result of this hybridisation, not only was the banquet table laden with an increasing variety of delicacies and surrounded by new rules of etiquette, the simat became a place for "the nourishment of the soul." As our eminent historian explains, the Abbasids used the simat "as a pretext for expanding the intellect and honing the faculties in prose and poetry. They would solicit the greatest minds and talents to recite rhapsodic verse, relate marvels of science and narrate witty anecdotes."
The court of Louis XIV is renowned for the marvelous new concoctions that bedecked the French banquet tables. However, Zaki has extracted proof from historical sources that in the business of alimentary creativity the Abbasid caliphs were centuries ahead of Versailles. The chefs of the Abbasid court vied with one another to create new dishes. Zaki relates that the Caliph Al-Ma'moun, his brother Al-Mu'tassim, his chief magistrate Yehia Ibn Aktham and another eminent personage of the court decided to hold a contest to see which of them could create the best dish. "Each of them created a dish of their liking and in which they were proficient. To ensure that the competition would be fair, the caliph decided to find a judge who did not know the identity of the competitors and whom the competitors themselves did not know. One evening, he ordered some of his servants to fetch the first person they found on the street, regardless of his social standing. The man they found turned out to be a commoner."
Back at the palace, the caliph asked the man to taste each of the four dishes that had been placed before him. The pots containing the different types of food were identical, save a small mark to identify each owner. The man began with the dish prepared by the Caliph Al-Ma'moun. After tasting it he exulted, "This, folks, is as fragrant as perfume. The man who cooked it can only be wise, honest and pleasant." He turned next to Al-Mu'tassim's dish and remarked, "By God, it is as though this and the first dish were produced by the same hand and with equal sagacity in their preparation." The third dish was that made by the prominent court figure. The taster praised it, but not as ardently. "This, by God, is a dish prepared by a cook who is the son of a cook. He did well." The last dish, prepared by the magistrate, did not meet with a good review. "The man took a taste, contorted his face in disgust and shouted, 'Yuck! This, by God, places its cook lower than the onions in it!'"
Naturally, the caliph suspected that his servants had informed the taster about the identifying marks on each of the pots. However, since the man proved to be of such good humour and so entertaining, he let the matter pass and "invited him to amuse them and make merry with them until dawn."
But if the Abbasids should be celebrated for culinary skill and variety, they also deserve credit for presentation long considered of European origin. It is commonly believed that the sandwich was the brainstorm of a British earl and member of parliament who needed a quick repast "for when the sessions would drag on and his stomach would grumble for its rightful due." But classical Arabic had a name for this form of food. Wasat wa shatira (a centre and half a loaf), Zaki explains, "conveys the concept we have today of placing some type of food in the middle of two slices of bread."
In addition to serving as venues for entertainment, the simat also served "to smooth over difficulties" in the conduct of commercial and political affairs, much as restaurants of today are prime locations for buttering up prospective clients and cementing business deals.
Zaki relates the story of an Abbasid magistrate who refused to communicate with senior government officials or even the Caliph Al-Mahdi himself. The caliph summoned the judge and offered him three choices: "Either you continue as a judge, tutor my children, or partake in a meal at my place." The magistrate chose the latter. Al-Mahdi kept the judge captive at his dining table by having his cook serve dish after dish of "brains kneaded with cane sugar, strained honey and other such substances." After the meal, "the judge dedicated himself to the business of jurisprudence and took up the tutelage of the caliph's children," and, of course, became a permanent guest at the caliph's banquet table.
Following this anecdote, Zaki leaves Baghdad to discuss the simat in other areas of the Islamic world, particularly in regions not too familiar to the Egyptian reader. To the east, he went to the Afghan mountains to Ghazna, the centre of an Islamic kingdom that emerged at the end of the 10th century, and to the west he went to western Maghreb, the seat of the Marinid dynasty.
Ghazna, Zaki writes, was "the bride of the capitals of Asia. In the past it reached a level of power and prosperity few other cities can dream of." Because so many authentic sources existed about this ancient kingdom, Zaki was able to furnish Al-Ahram readers with an eyewitness account of a simat hosted by Mas'ud, the son of Mahmoud Ibn Sebektekin, who would succeed his father to the throne in 1029. The early 11th century writer relates:
"We were invited to the house of Mas'ud in Ghazna. At the door were various ranks of military men and the kings of Jirjan, Tabrastan, Kharasan, India, Sind and the Turks. The banquet hall was resplendent "with elevated seats and canopies, gilded in gold and inlaid with precious jewels. There were 4,000 beardless youths, the banquet tenders, wearing golden belts and bearing golden staffs." As for the host, "Mas'ud was sitting on a bed of gold, the like of which has never been manufactured on earth. And it was covered by a luxurious spread." He also wore a crown "inlaid with precious jewels and rubies and was surrounded by personal slave boys in the finest attire."
The banquet seemed indeed something out of A Thousand and One Nights. "Mas'ud rose and headed for the simat which bore 50 gold platforms, each bearing five gold dishes. The dishes contained various types of beverages which the youths served to the guests." At this point the overawed diner confesses that the banquet "defies description" and that the names of the foods on display "confound the tongue and the ears." It seems, too, that the writer disapproved of this ostentation, for he concludes his narrative with an account of the end met by the Ghaznavid sultan: "He was defeated by the Seljuks and forced to flee with his family, money and treasures to India. On route, he was captured and his neck, hands and feet were placed in fetters. May God not tempt you into vanity and forget not that the King of kings stands above all kings." Clearly, Mas'ud had met his just deserts.
When describing the simat among the Marinids, it seems that Zaki's primary purpose was to commemorate their empire, which he hailed as the Arab nation that was the most steadfast in its resistance against the Western colonialist invasion. The Moroccans managed to hold out until the Entente Cordiale was signed between the British and French in 1904 and in accordance with which the two powers agreed to set aside their contentions over their colonial possessions in the Middle East, leaving Egypt to the British and the Maghreb to the French. He takes the occasion to pay homage to Tareq Ibn Ziyad, the famous Arab general who led the Muslim armies in the conquest of Spain, saying, "The Franks (Europeans) engulfed your country after first having swallowed your name. They say Gibraltar, but we will say, and say again and again, Jabal Tareq (the mountain of Tareq)."
The eminent scholar went on to say that all the kings of the Maghreb hosted simats, "the fame of which spread far and wide." Of these kings was Sultan Aboul Hassan Ali, "the most magnificent and illustrious ruler of the Banu Marin Empire, whose territories at one time extended from the western borders of Egypt to the Atlantic."
To describe a simat hosted by this sultan, Zaki turns to the noted historiographer, lexicographer and theologian Al-Qalqashandi, who relates that Aboul Hassan Ali would hold court early in the morning. He received first the senior sheikhs "who would enter his chambers and greet him, and he would offer them a simat laden with bowls filled with diverse and differently coloured foods. Accompanying this was a variety of sweets, some concocted from sugar, though most were made with honey and oil. The sheikhs would eat and then set off to their places of work." The sultan's banquet continued till the end of the day when the ulama, notables and eminent personages "would enter and partake of the simat he presented. As they ate, he would dine with them."
To conclude his account of the simat Ahmed Zaki returns to the court of Mu'awiya and relates the following anecdote:
"Once, Mu'awiya invited to his simat an Arab chieftain. The caliph engaged his guest in pleasant conversation and plied him with delicious foods. Suddenly, he noticed that his companion was about to eat a morsel of food that had a hair in it. But when he advised him to put it aside, the guest stood up angrily, left the simat and exclaimed, 'You've been watching me so closely that you noticed a hair in my food! By God, I will never partake in your simat again.'"
* The author is a professor of history and head of Al-Ahram History Studies Centre.
