17 - 23 May 2001
Issue No.534
|
Al-Ahram Weekly On-line 17 - 23 May 2001 Issue No.534 |
||
| Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875 | Current issue | Previous issue | Site map | ||
Al-Ahram:
A Diwan of contemporary life (390)
Rather than return home after the hajj, a Moroccan pilgrim instead headed south to Yemen. The traveller, Sheikh Mohamed Al-Basiqi, visited Hodeida, Aden and Hadramawt and wrote about his experiences in Al-Ahram. Appearing in the mid-1920s, his column, "The Moroccan Tourist," was highly popular for he wrote about parts few Egyptians were familiar with. Dr Yunan Labib Rizk* retraces this long, arduous and enthralling journey
Blissful, verdant Yemen
"Hijaz Expeditions" was the term for the detailed memoirs written by Moroccan ulema following their pilgrimage to the Islamic holy places. Because these journeys could take up to a year, it is not surprising that the pilgrims' recollections of Egypt would take up a significant portion of the memoirs for it was not unusual for pilgrims to reside in Egypt for approximately two months, preparing for the last leg of the journey or resting before their return home. Indeed, it is not difficult to picture one of these pilgrims returning to Fez, for example, grabbing a pen in order to capture on paper his multifarious impressions of the trip and then submitting his piece to the Qarawein Mosque Library whose vaults were filled with such manuscripts, most of which have never been published.
Crowded in some parts and mountainous in others. Such are the sights of Yemen
Among of the most famous "Hijaz Expeditions" memoirs to have been published are the 17th century Ma' al-Mawa'id (Table Water) by Abu Salem Al-Ayashi and the 18th century Al-Tarjamana Al-Kubra fi Akhbar Al-Ma'mura Barran wa Bahran (The Great Compendium of Affairs of the World on Land and Sea) by Abul-Qasim Al-Zayani. However, with the enormous changes that took place in the 19th century, this ancient custom fell into decline. In 1830, Algeria fell under French colonial rule which was loath to encourage its colonised inhabitants to join the Moroccan caravans heading eastwards or permit these caravans to pass through Algeria. Then, with the opening of the Suez Canal in 1869 plus the end of piracy in the Mediterranean, the once rarely used sea route became available to Moroccan pilgrims whose observations along the journey were now largely confined to contemplating the sea and the sky and not much else.
Nevertheless, there is evidence from the mid-1920s which indicates that the tradition did not die out entirely. The proof appears in Al-Ahram which published a series of letters in 1926 written by "a Moroccan tourist," as the paper described him. He immediately made clear his intention to record his memoirs for posterity in the manner of the "Hijaz Expeditions" tradition. Sheikh Mohamed Al-Basiqi, as he was called, opens his narrative: "I boarded the SS Qena which set sail from Suez on the evening of 21 May. On board were 550 pilgrims from all over the Islamic world. There were Egyptians, Yemenis, Palestinians, Turks, Indians, Javans, as well as pilgrims from Africa, from as far west as Dakar in Senegal and as far south as Kano, in the interior of Sudan."
The first port of call on the Saudi Arabian coast was Al-Wejh, "a small port city which did not offer much to write about. The port itself is actually an ordinary village. Call it one of the Hijaz cities if you like, but its houses are all constructed of the stone abundantly available here, with only a few of their facades whitewashed in lime. The livelihood of the inhabitants is restricted to trade, primarily with the Bedouin, in ghee and goat. The Egyptian pound (450 grammes) of ghee costs only 3.5 piastres."
At 10.00pm, on the fourth day of its journey, the Qena arrived in Rabigh, at which point the passengers began to prepare themselves for the state of consecration. Al-Basiqi writes, "I observed that throngs of pilgrims now wearing the two seamless white sheets, their voices reaching to the heavens in prayers of obedience and praise to God, a state they remained in until the ship dropped anchor in Jeddah." In Jeddah, the port authority physician boarded to inspect the passengers and, "finding them in perfect health, permitted them to disembark. Truth be told, not a single passenger had fallen ill or had become seasick during the journey. Drinking water was plentiful and readily available to all, and the Egyptian crew was extremely courteous to the pilgrims and other passengers."
After performing the hajj the members of the "Hijaz Expeditions" began their long journey home. Al-Basiqi, however, sprang a surprise. Instead of heading northwards from Jeddah he turned south, having now set his mind on some sightseeing. This unique aspect of his memoirs, in addition to the fact that he was heading off to parts few Egyptians were familiar with, were undoubtedly what inspired Al-Ahram to serialise his articles under the title "The Moroccan Tourist."
Yemen, in particular, was a mystery to most Egyptians and perhaps most Arabs. That Egyptians had some knowledge of the Yemeni people was due to the fact that many Yemenis studied in Al-Azhar, where they had a special dormitory wing, and participated in Egypt's intellectual and cultural life in general. Nevertheless, the Egyptians' knowledge of Yemen itself was sparse, which is why the Al-Ahram reader during the hot summer of 1926 must have eagerly looked forward to the next instalment of "The Moroccan Tourist." Nor were they disappointed, for Al-Basiqi had many more surprises in store for them in his account of his journeys.
His first encounter with the Yemeni people was in Port Sudan, where his ship first called on its way to Hodeida. The Sudanese port was a beehive of activity with "numerous ships arriving and departing from the wharves and all means of loading and unloading freight busily in operation." Al-Basiqi was surprised to learn that all the port workers were Yemenis, one of whom informed him that they numbered more than 1,000 and were "under the supervision of a man from Sana'a." The dockworkers themselves were "of massive, sturdy build," he added.
His next stop was the Eritrean port of Massawa, which he described as "a sluggish commercial city." He continues, "The city is of average size, its streets are unclean, commercial areas are disorganised and scattered and all features suggest a simplicity of life to the extent that the chairs and benches of the coffeehouses are little more than wooden frames fastened with hemp. Most of the inhabitants are very poorly dressed; many, for example, wore a long, wide shirt bound with a white strip of cloth, a cap and walked around barefoot." Here, too, "people from Yemen and Hadramawt abound."
On 2 June 1926, the Moroccan traveller arrived in Hodeida. He recalls, "The ship entered the port but as is well-known, the port facilities are so crude that large ships are unable to dock near the shore. Rather, they must drop anchor far from the city, and because of the rough waters, it takes nearly an hour for the skiffs to reach the ship" in order to ferry passengers to the dock. After a considerable ordeal, Al-Basiqi arrived safely on shore. The Yemeni port city had some surprises in store for him as well.
Hodeida had been ruled for some time by Al-Sayyid Al-Idrisi, an opponent of the imam of Yemen, Yahya Hamideddin. Port officials were highly suspicious of all strangers for fear that they were spies working for Al-Idrisi who was attempting to regain control of Hodeida. Al-Basiqi was, therefore, subjected to close scrutiny by no less than the wali, or governor, of the port city. When he arrived at the governor's residence he relates, "Soldiers bristling with arms were stationed along the corridor, up the stairs leading to the wali's chambers and in the antechamber. They saluted us as we entered and ushered us into the wali's chamber. The wali was sitting on a chair next to five other chairs. Next to him was a small desk upon which I noticed a fly whisk, a book and several editions of Umm Al-Qura, a newspaper published in Mecca. I shook his hand and sat down."
The wali, whom he later discovered was one of the eminent members of the Zayyidi nobility from Sana'a, was of average height, relatively plump for a Yemeni and white-skinned. He was wearing the Yemeni jubba (caftan) and a turban wrapped in the Yemeni manner. After a moment's silence, he began his interrogation:
"Where are you from?"
"From Egypt."
"What is your destination?"
"I want to tour Yemen."
"What brings you to Yemen, a country of Bedouin?"
"I like Bedouin which is why I want to visit them."
"Do you belong to one of the Egyptian secret societies?"
"No. I have no connection with any such society."
Al-Basiqi undoubtedly thought these questions were routine and that he would be granted immediate entry into Yemen. He excused himself in order to fetch his luggage and pass through customs. "I opened my trunk, the contents of which the police commissioner himself inspected. The search through my belongings was thorough, far more than was customary. They even took out my books and went through them page by page. This astonished me until I suddenly understood the connection between the questions I had been asked and the purpose of this inspection. When they had finished, they looked at my passport and directed us to another place where they told us to sit."
Al-Basiqi was shocked when the police commissioner returned to tell him that "the government of the Leader of the Faithful" had refused him permission to enter the country. Al-Basiqi asked on what grounds he was refused permission since his papers were all in order. "I am carrying out instructions," the official responded. "It would be advisable for you to return to the ship on which you came before being insulted."
Al-Basiqi had no choice but to obey. But he did not surrender entirely, for back on board he set about gathering as much information as he could in order to fulfill his pledge to Al-Ahram readers. The information he gleaned was meagre; his presentation was by no means neutral.
The imam of Yemen had great territorial ambitions, he wrote. If by all accounts he had a keen and intelligent mind, he did not surround himself with "reliable men of thought and planning." Nor was he a great promoter of modern education. The institutions that did exist in the country, primarily in Sana'a, were fashioned on the traditional model known in Egypt as Al-Azhar education. "As for contemporary forms of education, they do not exist, according to my knowledge, due to the lack of teachers."
The prime reason for the educational backwardness of the country was, in Al-Basiqi's opinion, due to the imam's total preoccupation with creating "an army trained in military tactics." To his advantage in this regard was a copious number of men "who have an instinctive love for military order, the famed Yemeni stamina and the ability to endure hardship and subsist on little food." If Al-Basiqi disapproved of the imam's priorities he, nevertheless, was in awe of the formidable Yemeni army. "The only difference between modern international armies and that of the imam is uniform. Although the imam's soldiers wear ordinary native costumes, they are a frightening sight. Should you encounter a band of them you will find them armed to the teeth, their chests and backs weighed down with ammunition belts. Their heads are bare and their black hair is shoulder-length. Such an astounding blend of savagery and order."
Al-Basiqi also claimed that the imam was a despot with such an efficient spy network that the public had come to believe he was clairvoyant. On one occasion Al-Basiqi struck up a conversation with a fellow traveller from Hodeida who was a passenger on the ship. They were talking for a while when suddenly the man's face froze in alarm and he fell silent. "Why are you afraid? We are on a foreign ship in the middle of the ocean." Al-Basiqi asked. The man did not respond. Instead, another Yemeni on board volunteered the answer: "Do you see those birds flying above us? Everything we do and say, they report back to the imam. We're fellow Yemenis and we can't trust one another."
The disconcerted narrator then comments, "I knew then that this country was not lacking in informers and I ascertained that the manner of treatment to which the people and I were subjected to is indicative of a policy intended to deprive the Yemeni people of any contact with intellectuals from other Arab nations who want the best for Yemen and its people."
Al-Basiqi's opinions on Imam Yahya Hamideddin provoked Abdullah Ben Ahmed Ben Yahya Al-Alawi, a Yemeni residing in Cairo, to respond to the charges in two lengthy articles published in Al-Ahram. Readers would have found parts of his articles as informative as those of Al-Basiqi. Yemen, he writes, is located in the south of the Arabian Peninsula. It acquired the name "The Blissful" because it is "a vast and far-flung country that is still praised for all the natural blessings bestowed on it." It was also called "The Verdant" due to its "fertile soil and the proliferation of farms, palm groves, plants, fruits and pastures." Yemen, he added, had a population of 10 million.
Yet when it comes to the character of the imam, one wonders who Al-Ahram readers believed was telling the truth: Al-Basiqi or Al-Alawi. The Yemeni writer describes the imam as the "great democratic king," a man endowed with all the qualifications required for his position: wisdom, courage and nobility, not to mention the fact that he was a Hashemite, which is to say a descendant of the clan to which the Prophet belonged. The imam was unlike any other Arab king in his dedication to learning and his breadth of knowledge. So beloved was he in Yemen for his unprecedented justice, good deeds and his care for the people "that you will not find a speaker or a writer in Yemen who will not begin his words with a supplication for the long life of His Majesty."
On the other hand, perhaps Al-Alawi's flattery caused Al-Ahram readers to believe Al-Basiqi's version of the character of the imam and the nature of his rule. In any event, they would open their newspapers to discover further episodes of the adventures of the Moroccan tourist who, not to be thwarted by his experience in "blissful Yemen," continued his voyage southward, to Aden.
Quite unlike the sandy port of Hodeida, Aden was a large rocky cape jutting out into the Indian Ocean. On the craggy bluffs overlooking the port city were numerous citadels and fortifications and at their base were the government buildings, commercial outlets and maritime companies. To the north was the port itself "which can provide shelter to hundreds of ships and which is forever alive with incoming and outgoing ships from east and west."
Not surprisingly, Al-Basiqi dwells on the strategic importance of Aden. The "Gibraltar of the East," as he called it, actually surpassed its Mediterranean counterpart in two respects. As a commercial centre, it served as a hub for trade between Hadramawt, Yemen, the Somali coast, Ethiopia and east Africa "and between these countries and Europe and India." Secondly, the British were able to "tie the coasts of the Arabian Peninsula from Lahj to Saihut through a series of bilateral treaties with each emirate, whereby every emir who really merits no more than the title of a tribal chief or city elder is now to be called sultan."
After spending a short time in Aden, Al-Basiqi travelled inland into Hadramawt with the objective of returning to the coast at Al-Mukalla. Arrangements were complicated. Camels were the only means of transport and "it is impossible to cover this distance without the protection and guidance of the Bedouin." Thus, to rent a camel not only entailed the cost of the animal and wages for the guides but also "the price of the wood which the Bedouin will use to cook, the money for obtaining water and waterskins, the food which will be consumed over a month, and cooking pots and utensils."
After the hardships of a 10-day journey Al-Basiqi reached his first destination, Seiyun. In this inland capital, he met the aged Sultan Mansour Ben Ghaleb who had arranged for his guest to meet his Crown Prince Ali. Ali, he relates, "arrived on an Arabian steed mounted with a European saddle. He was in the company of a friend and behind them were two black soldiers. We prepared ourselves to meet him and greeted him in the manner appropriate to his rank. Then we sat down together in the eastern manner on beautifully coloured Persian carpets, with supports to the right to lean on and behind us to rest our backs." Al-Basiqi clearly found the prince to be a very pleasant and engaging host, for he remarks, "I struck up a conversation with the prince who listened very attentively to what I said and answered every question I put to him."
Delighted with his surroundings and the company, Al-Basiqi remained in Seiyun for 11 days. He described the city itself as stretching from west to east and "built of mud-brick whitewashed in lime in the manner of all cities of Hadramawt." The city was built into "the southern lap of the mountains" and a wall had been built at the western side. What impressed him most was the general level of erudition which he attributed to the efforts of the mufti, Abdel-Rahman Ben Abdullah Al-Saqqaf, "to enlighten minds and disparage rigidity of thought." Testimony to these efforts existed in the two schools in the city, one for religious education, the other for public education.
Tarim was another Hadramawt city to which Al-Basiqi paid a lengthy visit. Tarim, Seiyun and Ashbam were the three major cities of the area and he was struck by the level of prosperity he found. "The wealthy inhabitants are blessed with an abundance of food and drink, clothing and household wares," he observes. But his greatest surprise was the number of cars he saw in these cities. In Tarim alone there were 14 automobiles whose owners learned how to drive in Aden.
For some unknown reason, Al-Basiqi's account of his travels ends here, with a final observation that the elegant design and decorations of many of the buildings he saw were "indicative of the fine aesthetic taste of the people of Hadramawt and their love of beauty." If we are to judge by the letters that Al-Ahram received that summer, Al-Basiqi's readers were dismayed at the sudden disappearance of his articles.
* The author is a professor of history and head of Al-Ahram History Studies Centre.
© Copyright Al-Ahram Weekly. All rights reserved
 |
|
|||||||||||||||||
| ARCHIVES Letter from the Editor Editorial Board Subscription Advertise! |
WEEKLY ONLINE: www.ahram.org.eg/weekly Updated every Saturday at 11.00 GMT, 2pm local time weeklyweb@ahram.org.eg |
 Al-Ahram Organisation |
Recommend this page