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-~~~
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THEROAD
Muhammad Asad
I
1,lamlclook 5ertice
Tomywife
POLAHAlDA
CONENS
Glossary pagexi
The Story of Story 1
I Thirst 10
111 Winds 68
IV Voices 102
VI Dreams 162
Dajjal 282
XI Jihad 312
Jndex 377
GLOSSARY
/
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.
d'i(l. bodu) - beduin.
rmilliih - 'in the of God'
- hooded cIoak worn North fi Arabs and Berbers.
d/IOII...; LatilHigged saiJing vesseJ largely used il1,the S, 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.
i; - \ is making has made the pilgrimage to ; often
used as title.
/101'0111 - 'sanctuary', especially the l 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'.
iIr - ; before , '' of'. Frequently used in eonjunc-.
tion with the of ancestor, in wblch case the combinatiol1l
denotes family , tbe of dynasty, e.g., I Saud"
I Rasbld.
igiil- ropelike headband encircling theArabian headeloth.lt is usu
ally made of pJain bIaek wooJ, but is sometimes threaded with
gilded silver .
ihra - '.vblte garment worn piJgrimage to .
ikh",on - 'brethren', app1ied to beduins settJed and organized
i I Saud.
ima - 'Ieader'; partieuJarly applied to thc leader eongre
gational , but lso to outstanding scholars earlier times
and to Jeader community.
inshiiAl/oh - 'God wig'.
jaob-i-o/i- fi term of address used in Persian-speaking -
tries.
jard - blanketlike woollen wrap worn in western Egypt and Libya.
jid - Holy War in defence Islam MusJim 1iberty.
jubba - wide, ankle-Iength mantle worn many welJ-t-d eity
l, and most the /, in Egypt, Syria, ijaz, (raq, (,
.
kajton - 10!. 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 l lord; nowadays
widely used as honorifie designation in I, Afghanistan, ete.
kufiYYQ - men's headcloth.
maghrib - sunset.
marhaba - welcome.
mu'azzin - the time for .
mujhid (pl. mujhidin) - n who fights in jihiid.
argi/e - eJaborate pipe for smoking tobacco, in whieh the smoke is
fi1tered through water; in countries it is al50 called 'hookah'.
qodi - judge.
GLOSSARY
-2
AFERNOON GLIDES slowly past us with its dunes, and
its si1ence, its loneliness.
IS
After while, the IoneIiness is broken group of beduins
~,bo 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 ll. As they
, they reii1 in their animals:
' with .'
~.,d 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 Zd, 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 l of his
saddle while hispeople, now loosely grouped around us,
viously wait for to speak. After few mts, 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 1 was 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
l> his first , Abd l-ziz, without formal, r
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 ing's bounty,
receiving departure presents that var) in accordance with
16 ROAD
-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 s head for the throw;
just as is to hurl it, catches his foot in lmd/l
, 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. 1 only twisted ankle. It \i1l 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, 1 find that the ankle has badly sprained and
is angrily s\vollen.
'There is use going like this, Zayd. Let us k m
here; night's rest \v restore thee.'
22 ROAD
-4
VVN 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.
lr 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 ain in body is ensnarled with tbe dread in
min, and the makes the other grow, searing and whispering
and tearing...
1 want 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 nil lurches forward
while rising its hind legs and, again, when it lurches back
ward, straightening its forelegs. We begin to , sIo\\'ly,pain
f1~lly, 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. l stands st \vhile,
tJilen slides down with sigh its knees, then its hind legs,
and lies crouched side with its neck ~tretched 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
tal the eye-Ils. hirst and heat; thirst and crushing
28
-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 a~d sleepy and lazy; and there is reaHy
for you to your eyes or to your rrn; 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; ]
THIRST 31
cannot clearly see him, but as soon as speaks with slow,
solemn voice1 know is Shammar beduin.
gain 1 l hot, consumingtblrst and grip hard the bow1
miilk wblchZayd ho1ds out toward ; but there is 1
when 1 gulp it down while Zayd l how tbls small
group beduins happened to at the time when
the sandstocm broke 100se, and how, when the strayed 1
ca1m.Iy itselfduring the night, they worried
and went , all of them together, to search for ; and how,
after l three days, when they had almost given ,
they heard r shots beblnd dune...
And now theyhave erected teot over and 1 ordered to
lie: in it tonight and tomorrow. Our beduin frieods jn 00
htl; their waterskins full; they have eveo 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 ti 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 lanldn of Zayd's
coffeepots; the smell of fresh coffee is like woman's .
'zayd!' 1 11 , and am pleasantly surprised that voice,
though stil1 tired, has 10st jts croak. 'Wilt thou give some
coffee1'
' God 1 wi, uncle!' answers Zayd, following the old
Arab custom of thus addressing '8. to whom wants to
showrespect, older younger than the spealcer (as it
pens, 1 am fewyears youoger than Zayd). 'ho shalt bave as
iuJ!l coffee as thy heart desires!'
1 drink coffee and grin at Zayd's countenance.
'Why, brother, do weexposeourselves to such thingsinstead of
$tyjg in our homes like seosible peoplel'
'use,' Zayd grins back at , 'it is not for the 1ike of thec
and to wait in our es unti1 the limbs stiffand old
overtakes us. Andbesides, do not 1 die in their ues
as well? Does oot man a1ways his destiny around his neck,
whcrever l'
32 ROAD
-6
ENOUGH to sit up now, and zayd brings
of our camel-saddles to l upon. 'Make thyself comfort
, uncle. It g1addens heart to see thee well after I had
moumed thee for dead.'
"hou hast good friend to , zayd. What would 1
done without thee 1l these years if thou hadst not follow
ed call and to ?'
"1 never regretted these years with thee, uncle. 1 still
the day when 1got thy letter, than v years ago,
g to ... he 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.
hose Iraqi girls, they narrow waists and hard breasts, like
ts' - 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 - 1 could not make mind to forsake job
with the Iraqi agay/, and friends, and the joys Baghdad
and , d always told myself, ~'Not 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 10l thou must without her, and 11 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 l ! 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 thei~ lives and thought {!
{ eyeglasses were made frozen water? Theywere like jinns
themselves, reading tracks in { sand other l read
book, and r~ding from the skies and from the air tbe coming
sandstonn ~ours before it ... And dost thou l1,
uncle, that guide we red at Ranya - that devil bada~vi
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 wch lies so far behind .
But at the ti we did not feel at like laughing. We were
ab>ut six orseven days' journey south Riyadh when that
guide, fanatical beduin from the lkl,'n settlement Ar-Rayn,
'Companion'~i.e.,
wire.
t Rub' al-ba}i,
the vast, uninhabitcd sand desert which covers about
quarter or the AiabiaD Peninsular.
39
paroxysm of when I explained to him what
feJl into
was foc. wanted to leave us there and then
such heathenish picture-making endangered his soul. I
wou1d not have minded getting ridof himhadit not thatwe
were just then iiJ region '.vithwhich neither Zayd 1 was fam
i1iar and where,left to ourselves, we would tailhv10stour
way. At first 1 tried to with our 'devi1 of beduin, but
to avaiI; remained adamant and turned back his l
ward Ranya. 1 made it l { 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, 1 aimed 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
l settlement, abo~t three days ahead, where we could l
our dispute the qadi for decision. zayd and 1 disarmed
him and took standing guard during the night to
him from slipping away. he 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 { b~lieE - 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 { ing 'to amirs of {
land and everyone who m 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 friendli~
ness sho,vs it to us, and everyone who is hostile { wil1
dl~emed 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.
w~en we \ guests of ihe King and tllOti wert so to
s~ the old stables { palace filled ,vith shiny new motorcars.
. . And the ing's graciousness toward {...'
'And dost thou ,Zayd, hOW he sent us out to :<l0
{ secrets behind the beduin rebellion. l \\' \ journeyed
40 ROAD
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 fr 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, big- littJle
in tattered , offers to sbow Zayd place 'wbere
wood is to found; and while the two set out their errand, 1
take the ls 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 1 answer: An with and the ~race of God.'
heir 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. beir
movements are clear and definite, and their reserve free of 11
shyness as they wordlessly take the bucket rope from bands
42
BEGINNING OF RD 43
and draw water for camels-just as, four thousand ,
that woman at the weJl did to rh's servant when
from naa to find for i master's son Isaac from
their kinsfolk in Padan-Aram.
1 CLIMB OUT of the well, put the clean, 10ng tunic wblch 1
brought with , and go back to the r and to Zayd and the
camels; 1 drink the bitter coffee wblch Zayd offers and then
down, .refreshed and warm, near the r the ground.
-2
RS R CROSSED under neck and 1 100king in
to this Arabian night which curves over , black and starlY.
OPPOSITB: Zayd .
BEGINNING 49
shtig star flies in tremendous , and there another, and
yet another: arcs of light piercing the darkness. Are they only
bits of broken-up planets, fragmen~ 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 ll de-.i1s, who has
just received that mighty throw of there in the east . . . ?
he 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 ~lmost imperceptibly shaped thoughts; 1 havenot
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 ll its 1ength, ro~d - rcad
from world wblch 1 did not possess to world truly own.
i, 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 ainf rejoicing? I:"or this Arabian sky - so
much darker, higber, more festive witb its stars tban other
sky - vau1ted o~er tbe 10ng ~ek 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 U r of the Chaldees.
'That , Abraham, did not reallybelong in Ur. i! was but
among Arabian tribes which at {i 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 l 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
igh 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 11 wanderings lay jn
bldden desire to t rnyself meeting world whose approach
to the innermost questions of , to reality itself, was different
from 11 1 had accustomed to in Cllildbood and youth.
-3
W 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
Th~e 'were those early childbood years in the Polisb city of
Lw6w - then 1 ustrian possession - in tbat' was as
quiet and dignified as tbe street which it stoOO: 10 strcct
of somewhat dusty elegance, bordered witb chestnut treS and
paved with woOO blocks that muflled the beat of thehorses'
booves and converted every of the day ioto l after
. 1 10'100 that 1l street witb consciousness far beyond
childish years, and not l because it was the street ofmy
: 110ved, 1think, because oftbe 1 of self-possession
witb which 1t flowed from { gay of tbat gayest of cities
toward the stillness : tbe woOOs the city's g and tbe
gre.at cemetery that l hidden in those woOOs. eautiful
g 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 l family's pleasure. sluggish litt1e streamwith ww
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 st 50 close to
i15 animal source . . . hose hot August days spent in tbe fields
"ith tbe farmhands who were ug { wheat, and with {
women who gathered and bound it in sheaves: \vomen,
to 100k ! - heavy of body, fuH of breast, with hard~ "'arm
arms, the strength of which you could feel when they i'Olled you
v playfuny at' noontime tbe \vheat 5tacks: but, of
course, were { young then todraw further l
sions from tbose laughing embraces ...
.And there were journeys with paren15 to 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 \.
WINDS
-1
E R.IDE, RIDE, tv two dromedaries, d
the rnig glides past us.
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 efore: to the ques
tions ...
-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. lm
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. qh1 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
feshI-sted 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 nd, 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 ....
he dates are reaUy among the best 1 have ever eaten; and the
host is obviously pleased our hunger which satisfy.
And goes :
'he wind, the wind, it makes our life hard; but that is God's
wiU. he 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. he sands are closing in us day day. Soon there wiH
room left for the pals. his wind ... But we do !
complain... As you know, the Prophet - God bIess
him - told us: "God says, Revile n' destiny,for, behold - /
destiny ..." ,
1 must 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. s if to himself:
'. . . behold, / am destiny' - and in the nod with which
companies his words lies proud, silent his own
l in"life; and never have 1 seen, even in people, es
to reality expressed with so much quiet and sureness. With
wide, vague. almost sensual tum of his r describes "circle
in the air - circle which encompasses everytng 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 f
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 1 seem to hear the song of
stroog spirit wblch knows barriers of circuJ11stance and is at
with itself. .
1 carried back to ti 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 nc'5 wn destiny.
VOICES
-1
E RIDE, AND ZAYD SINGS. dunes
-2
THROUGHOUT YEARS 1 spent in the MiddJe East
- as sympathetic outsider from 1922 to 1926, and as Mus
lim sharing the irns 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 ini invariably labels their resistance,
with air of hurt in, 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' 10.
While everywhere in the West (outside of Britain) public ini
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 in argument is
always the political disruption and i 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 peop~es themselves.
'Forgetting that direct, and benevolent, interven
tion from ti disturb nation's development,
Western ofMiddJe Eastern affairs always
ready to swallc:>w such claims. hey see l 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. he same people who would never
accepted Imperial Austria's 'civi1izing m.i.ssion' as valid
excuse for interventioris in the Balkans indulgent1y accept
simi1ar l in the case of the British in Egypt,the Russians in
Centra1 Asia, the French in Morocco or the ltalians in Libya.
. And lt ! en crosses their minds that of the social and
i 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 Wn.
hand.
hanging oriel windows made more nightly than the night itseJf
VOICES 125
could make them. and there 1 could , 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 1 could 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 u
sistigl to the bed that was ofered . wind rustled
in the trees of courtyard in ("t and in the of the gar
den behind the house. From the distance m muffled
sounds; the voice of great Arabian city going to sleep.
-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 ov~ his
pots and as, 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 ed,
after the 18 , their necks stretched ( sand; and
still farther beyond. nl faintly visible under ( starUght. but
as er to you as your own heartbeat. the empty desert.
here are man 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 delsioDS
with wblch bountiful nature ra entrap 's m.ind and
SJR AND 145
cause him to project his wn imageries into the world around
him. he 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:
tbl~ fanhest of all that is and yet tl1e ncarest of 11 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 d 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 { J udean
desert that Jesus received. the message the ingdom of God;
and it \vas m { of ira, in { descrt hills ncar , that
[ first ca1l { Muhammad of ra.
It to him inthat narrow, dry gorge between rocky hs,
that naked bumt the desert sun - all-embracing Yes
{ , both of the spirit and of the fiesb: tbe 11 {. was des
tined to give (r 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, th thirteen centuries later, outliving
poIitical decay, outlasting even the great civilization wbich
it brougbt into being: tbe CaII that cam to tbe Prophet of
rai ...
migbt think there is st time to sleep: but lQw the eastern sky
there appears,palely out the da~~S' faint streak of
li~t above another, darker strea.k . ~1 t}es,over the horizon:
twm hera1ds dawn, time the.moI: ' prayer.
Obliquely over 1 see the morning star, which the Arabs
Az-Zuhra, " Shining '. If ask them about it, they will
. ten that he Shining was ~ woman ...
here were oncetwo angels, and Marut, who forgot to
, as it behoves angels to 00, and boasted their [
vincibIe purity: 'We made oflight; we 11 sin and
desire, unlike the weak sons , sons mother's dark
womb.' But they forgot that their purity had not from their
wn strength, for they were pure Qnly because ( knew de
sire and had never ll 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 he Shining .
Wben the two angels looked at her with the eyes and feel
ings they now had, they confused and, just as if ( had
ns , the desire to possess her arose in them.
ofthem said her: ' willing unto '; but Shining
answered: 'here 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 5 the desire left them, the
two erstwhile angels aware that their first night
earth they had ~:nned twofold - in murder and fornication - and
that there had 5nse in their pride ... And the Lord
said: 'Choose between punishment in this world and punishment
in the rftr.' I their bitter remorse, the fallen angels chose
nis! in tbls world: and the Lord ordained that they
5uspended ains 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 he Shining into
star in the heavens 50 that people might al\vaY5 her and, re
membering her story remember the fate Harut and Marut.
he outline of this Jegend is older than Islam; it seems
SPIRIT AND FL.S ' 147
to have originated in of myihs which ancient
Semites w~ve 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 1 heard 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 l, into
moral being: being endowed \vith soul.
It is the basis of this conception that Islam, l
11 higher reIigions. regards the soul of as aspect of his
'personality' and not as independent in 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 ed
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 1 chain of incarnations to
ward the ultimate goal ofperfection. the Koran says: Verily, We
creale in pelfecl slale - state of purity that des
troyed l subsequent \vrong behaviour - ond Ihereupon We
reduce m 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
gaily-Iued tas5el5 of saddIebags, and dress camels in
their best finery; and now \\' d 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
l and skins of butter make their \vay through the crO'\'ds;
other cameIs. brought in beduins sale, fill ( air \"ith
their wig. Gaudy 5addlebags from AI-Hasa being fin
gered experienced hands. auctioneers. ever-recurring
fixture in tO\Vn. rnove arid do\vn the za 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 stre~ch their graceful limbs lazily in the sun.
uins in \''Orn aba.\os. well-dressed servants and bodyguards
SPIRJ 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 ing. of the most powerful of [ ing's governol"s,
is called 'ir 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 M~saad's ,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 5 - 11 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 cr of <:ouple of retainers who have rushed over
us and proceed toward th~ om;r. rises; and 11 who have been
sitting his side the beJ;1Ch and the ground before
rise with him. stretches his hand toward us:
'n \\'o-soblan - and God grant life!'
1 kiss the ';, [ tip of his nose ltis foreh~ad, and
150 ROAD .
-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 st
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 ~fe; 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 - thig: and that's just the it,' 1 reply.
'Nothing ... l' repeats { old , his eyes wide . 'Was
she so ugly?'
'No, thc contrary, ~bc \\'5 ) n'::H1tiful .. .'
'\\'h:H is it :l1l abOl!t?' as\.:c; Jbn \1usaad. '\Vhat ~111tri girl
SPIRI AND FLESH }55
two talkil1g about? Enlighten , uhd.'
And so 1 { enlighten ll. {! marriage that
led to nothing.
1 \vas then living ! Medina, wife}ess and 10nely. beduin
the tribe of Mutayr, Fahad \\'as his , used { sd
hours every day in ql' entertaining \vith fantastic ls
of his exploits under L\ during the Great \, Oneday
said to : 'It is ! good for to 1i\'c 1 as thou 40st,
for { blood will 101 in thy veins: thou sl1Ou1dst .' And
when 1 joking1y asked him 10 produce bride,
replied: 'hat's easy. he 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 m 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 1
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. 'he ras
l! he 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 I outright refusal; and so he pretends
Ihat sbe is st chi1d. But 1 tel1 thee: 11 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 1 was becQming and interested, and perhaps 150
little I spurred Mutriq's sist;:l.. 1 pre5ented Fah~d \vith
ten golden sovereigns and did his best ( persuade I 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; 1l r kno\v is that { two uJtit1 ili:d
lLtriq to consent to tlle !rri~g ...
'Ibls f-ahad,' says Ibn Mll~a:!d, 'SCt'I11:; ( 11<lVC sly fel
156 ROAD
-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.
'w 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 re~[ies slo\vly. 'Eleven
.. , It is eleven years since 1 was ilojt, kllO\Vest tl1at
heart \vould not let ier and behold the People
ofthe South ruling in the palace Rashid. oflate 1 have
telJillg myself, in the \'ds of ti}e Book, God, Lo,.d /
SO\el'e(r.:llty! gil'cst sOI'e,.eigllty ' 11'110 pleasest !
: G\t'OY 50\'e,.eigllty [ 11-Ilm '). ('xallcs/
J~'JlOm 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 I1' 'f l 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 { I Si. : ,]link 1 should not
grieve longer - for is it not \vittCl ;J~ ,he Book, Smlim
)'U 100' tJlillg, olld ;/ m /Ile \m! . l' " - (/1/(1 sUl1u:/imes
)'u hate tblllg, al1d it )' tl1e best /0/' .1'
Th 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
SPIRI 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. I that fateful ,
1929, when Ibn Saud's kingdom shook to its foundations
under the blows of the great beduin revolt led Faysal ad
Dawish, 11 the Shammar tribes living in Najd aside their
- animosity toward t11e King, ral1ied around m and
contributed largely to his subsequent victory the Iebe1s.
This reconciliation \vas tru1y remarkable, for it had only
few years earlier that l Saud had conquered foree of
arms and thus re-established the hegcmony of the South
the North; and [ r~markable in view of the age-old
tual dislikc - \ goes (~epnr than dynastic struggle for
' - thc tribc of Shammar and the of south
Najd, of \ I 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 hstt bet\\'een c1osc1y re1ated tribes tl racial
strangeness cou1d cause bet\\'een entircly ditercnt 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 1 - to \ religious enthusiasDl. It
160 ROAD
DREAMS
-1
-2
1 W AS NRL 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.
he 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 m for s
peace-loving father. Abd ar-Rahman, aod left Riyadh with
s 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 ll the members of the family there was l who
had inkling ofwhat was happening in this passiooate heart:
younger sister of his father. 1 do not know about her; 1
n1 knowthat \\'henever dwelJs the days of s youth. the
ing alwaY$ mentions her with great reverence.
'She loved , 1 think, even more than her own children.
When we were alone. she would take her l 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 t
' again and again, and her \vords \vere like caress. "But 1want
thee ( know, A.zayyiz,". she would say, "that thc glory
pf the House fI Saud must 110t ( end of thy endea\ours.
Mec:tioDato diminutive of al-AZiz.
166 ROAD
'But it was truly thy fortune which God showed thee in that
dream, 50! Dost thou not recognize it clearly?
ing of the crowd of peopIe, and thou with them, into pathless
waste, and their perplexity: is 1 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 l 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 1l, 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 ( i 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 1 am ... 1
was at that ti 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 li 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 ll 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 ...'
-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), lng 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 sceed 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 ID
W .
dina: now three riders - for of Ibn Musaad'5
, a1-Assaf, is accompanying us of
the way errand of the , '.
Mansur is 50 handsome that if were to the streets
of Western city 11 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 - ifIli of good
.! Arabs - and pair of black eyes survey the \vorld
k1 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 td, passions and '4 to his
pearance aura of sombreness quite unlike the gravity
ofmy Shammar friend. But Mansur, likeZayd, has lot
the wor1d and makes pleasant ni.
I the gr-d-llw, soil that has \v r~placed 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. here is al50
the ft-10g edible lizard ca11ed d/mb which thrives the
of p1ants and tastes like cross betwe~ chicken d 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 \vhile the body 1eans
the fore1egs, they roll the precious find painfully to\vard their
homes, f 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
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
wn body what the and hungry feel: thus, social
bility i being hammered into hu consciousness as religious
postulate. he 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 fr consciousness and resposibility).In these
two elements - brotherhood and individual self-discipline
- 1 began.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 s my Muslims friends were to
provide . Outstanding among them was Shayk.h Mustafa al
g, of the most prominent Islamic scholars of the
ti and certainly _the most brilliant ~ng the ulama 1
Azbar Uvrsity ( was destined to its rector some
ear 1ater). must have been in his middle forties at that ti,
but s 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 vin! associated in his youth with
tbat inspiring firebrand, Jamal ad-Din a1-Afghani, Shaykh 1
Maraghi was himself keen, critical thinker. never failed to
ires upon me thatthe Muslims of recent times had fal1en
very-short indeed of the ideals of tbeir faith, and that nothing
couid mre erroneous than to ete the potentialities of
M1~ammad's message the yardstick of present.day usli
and thought - .
, - just ,' said, 'it wou1d erroneous to see in the Chris
tias' unloving behaviour toward another refutation
Crjst's 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. hrough 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. he lectures
were given in [ huge, covered mosque-hall beyond. Several
teachers sat, also straw mats, under [ pi1lars which crossed
[ hall in 1! rows, and in semicircle before teacher
crouched group students. he 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 see those "scholars" over there l' asked . ' .
like those sacred cows in India which, 1 told, eat up 11
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 ft generation.'
'], Shaykh Mustafa,' 1 interposed, 'Al-Azhar is, after 1l,
the central seat of Islamic learning, and the oldest university in
the world! encounters its nearly page
Muslim cultural history. What about 1l the great thinkers, the
theologians, historians, philosophers, mathematicians it has pro
duced over the last ten centuries l'
'It stopped producing them several ~enturies ago,' replied
ruefully. "Well, perhaps not quite; here and there an ind
dent thinker has somehow managed to g 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 ll but extinguished. Tbose ancient Islamic
thinkers \ thou hast mentioned would never dreametJ
that after 50 centuries their thoughts, instead being
190 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 ... he 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 ffi,
swirling, monotonous chords, monotonously ascending-and
fe}t as if yourselfwere being iesisti 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 [ed brought the whirling to standstill, and ~roke
the dizzy spe, an brought back from Scutari to the cool
ness of ston~flagged room in Cairo ...
Sign"ra ViteJli h right, afterall. Her ministrations
heJped to rco maJaria OOut, if oot sooner, at least
as sooo as an professiooal doctor could done. Within two
days J was almost free of fever, an the third 1 could
han fIJ.y bed for comfortabIe ir. St, 1 was too exhausted
to tnk of going aOOut, and ti bung heavily. or twice
teacher-student from AI-Azhar visited and brought
some books.
MIDWAY 197
t (-rn the whirling dervishes
of Scutari omehow bothered . It had unexpectedly acquired
puzzling ignificancethat had not apparent in the original
'J 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 zha friend to bring some
talist work the subject; and, through them, instinctive
suspicion that esoterism of this kind had intruded into the Mus
li orbit from non-Islamic sources was nfir. specula
tions of the .fis, as the Muslim mystics were called, betrayed
Gnostic, Indian and occasionally Christian influences
which had brought in ascetic concepts 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 .
-2-
WN WE [ the ight, Zayd starts to bake
bread. makes dough of coarse wheat , water and
salt and shapes it into flat, round loaf about inch thick.
Th cJears hollow i 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, 5 it
\y;th ! ashcs and lights \ mound ~f t\vigs { of it.
After \vhil~ 1- Jncoyers { bread, tums it , coyers it
before and Iights another fire it. another half hour the
198 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 muzzIe-lds 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. his inner stability, 1 rnused, 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 ll 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, hk
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 agayl in
Iraq.'
It was nl then that 1 observed the kIlaki colour ofhis ka!toll
and the seven-pointed star, of the Iraqi Desert Consta
bulary, his bIack iga/. his kind of troops, !ld 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.
Zd to1d that had to Dayr az:-Zorwith ofbis .
offirers some business connected with the dministti of
the Syro-Iraqi frontier. While the officer had since returned to
Iraq, Zd 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 1 did that because of its
loops and turns we would not alwa~:s 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. he great aminad
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 z 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 w in count1ess tums doWn. the imperoeptible incline of
the desert. equa1 within equa1. proud within proud: for
the desert was as widespread and mighty and quiet as the nver.
Our new ni. Zd. 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 nz. Short halts ih 10nely, dilapidated
vanserais altemated with endless stretclles of desert. he 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 d~ert. 'What could there ,
yond that narrow range of n. ~i' asked oneself in wonder
, And although knew that the same level hilly desert
l 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 1 did 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
] 1 forgotten take in water for his engine. river
was far away; there \\s well i'or miles around; ll
about , tO.the wavy horizon, brooded empty, white-hot,
chalky plain; soft, hot wind played over it, 1ig from
where and going no\vhere, without beginning and without
end, muffled out of eternity itself.
he 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'. he sun
was bIazing, the water bubbled in the radiator as in tea kettle.
Again we met herdsmen. Water? No, for fifteen l
hours.
'And what do u drink?' asked the Armenian in exaspera
tion.
hey laughed. 'We drink camels' milk.' heymust 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 rt.
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
mw - 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
Foc over six months 1rode through the wi1d mountains and
steppes of Afghanistan: six months in world where the nns
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 ll h, i 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 kh 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.
Thee (n do we worship,
Say: God is ,
-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 1 gct to wash the sk~'r from face. coid \vater is like
/ touch from \\' landscapes - mountains covered with dark
u5. nd streams tl13t and flow and always cemaincleat
_.. I sit l1aunchcs an,1 k head back 50 ti1at myface
2J6 __
might 10ng remain wet; the wind strokes its wetness. strokes it
witb - ~ender memory of all l . 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 '~ils 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 irrn - 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 mid1 sun, and she sang with 10w
voice song in some outlandish tongue. tal 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 . As 1
remounted horse, tl drunk, and set out at gallop, the
whole wor\d lay suddenly wide and bcfore 1 eyes
as never before; 1 saw its inner and felt ( beat of its
. pulse in the wblte loneliness and beheld 11 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 efore , 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 tnk it must been then tl1at1 experienced, not yet fully
Undcf.andin,g it myself, the opening gr~ce - that grace of
wbic'ft: Father felix had spoken to long, long ago, when 1 was
starting out the joumey that 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 rn' conversion to Islam; but
even then 1 l, without knowing it, straight as arrow
ward .
JINNS
-1
-2
IN AFERNOON of our third day out of HaIl we. stop
( water our camels at the weIls of Arja. in almost circular
valley enclosed between low hs. he t\VO wells, large and full
sweet water, lie in the centre of the \; of them is (
ll property of the tribe - the western belongs to the
Harb, the eastem to the Mutayr. he ground around them is as
bald as the palm of one's hand, for ev~ry 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.
As we iv, the valley is fu of animals, and ever-ncw
and herds appear from between the sun-drenched hs. Around
the wells there js great crowding and commotioD, for it is not
an easy thing to satjsfy the thiFS1 of so animals. he 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:
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 trough~, not visibIy pacified the men's sooth
ing calls, Hu-oih ... '[-z! 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,
yeJlow-whit 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:
into room: .
'hcre is from the SIIUyukh. wantsto see tbee
at .'
1 burriedly dressed and went to the ~stle. Ibn Saud was await
ing in his private apartments, sitting cross-legged divan
with heaps ! Arabic newspapers aroundhim and from
228 ID .
"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 ftri) to which belonged
had never taken part mArabia's almost unceasing in 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
do~'" without consideration even of close blood relationship,
andtat 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 1ust 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 ll 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. beir
ability ( read is ]egendary, and ( ]
who compare with them in this respect the l
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 ( tings his fire. hi 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 ~just now, although small parties were
constantly crossing the desert in 11 directions.
An idea suddenly struck : might wenot utilize the Sulubbi's
instinct for hunting and pathfinding ( lead us to Kuwayt?
'st thou ever to Kuwayt 1 asked .
Sulubbi laughed. ' times. 1 have sold gazeUe skins
there and clarified butter and ! wool. Why, it is nl ten
days since 1 retumed from there.'
'hen thou cou]dst guide us to Kuwayt? - 1 ean,
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 u.'
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 lif held cash in
his hands.
240 ROAD
'1 shall give thee hundred r~va/s - 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 w worn out entirely, and 1
have nl .. :
Not wishing to prolong the negotiations, 1 promptly replied:
'1 shall thy dromedary. shalt ride it to Kuwayt, and
there 1 shall 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 1 started 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 heresa 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 cameI-sddl ( because his
was broken .. .'
' Mutayri? Art thou certain?' :
'1 certain, master, and God k ifI speak
lie ... was of Ad-Dawish's , of party that t -
JINNS 241
c::ently been fighting again$t thc ami, . It surely was not
wron 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 inB would not bear ma1ice to
ward m, and bis anxiety8ubsidOO. questioning m Curther.
1 Cound that other Sulubba had receivOO such new riya/s
from various parans Ad-Dawish in exchange for goods or
small services ..
-3
ON FIFH NJGHT after our departure from Hail, we reach
the plain of Medina and see thh dark outline of ount U11ud.
248
PERSIAN LETTER
-1"'
-2
! I STROLL THROUGH the in the direction of the
Great s, an old acquaintance hai15 in passing.
1 nod to this and that 5hopkeeperand finally allow myself to
dragged friendAz-Zughaybidown to the little platform
wblch h selIs cloth to beduins.
'Wh didst thou return, M1 Jha mmad, and from where'1 It
is months since thou .'
'1 am min from Han and from the Nufud.'
'And wilt thou not remain at h for time l'
'No brother, 1 am lvin for the day,after tomorrow.'
Az-Zughaybica1ls out to the in the coffeeshop opposite,
and soon the tin linkin before ,
'But why, Muhammad, art thou going to now1 he
season of hojj is past ..'
'It js not desirefor pi1grimage that takes to . After
all, am 1 not hojji five timesover'1 But somehow 1 have feeling
.that 1 will not 1 remain in rai, and want to see gain
the city in wblch lif in this land ...' And then 1 add
with Iaugh: 'Well, brother - to te thee the truth, 1 do not 00
derstand myself why 1 am going10 ; but 1 know 1 have
to . :
Az-Zughaybi shake5his head in disay: 'Thou wouldst leave
this d. and thy brethren '1 How canst thou 5ek: like thi?'
familiar figures sses with 10n8o hutriec;l 5tride: it is
layd. obviously in sech 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 ue Zurcher Zemg of
Switzerland, whose correspondent 1 have for the past six
years; from India, urging to there and make the
acquaintance of thc largest single li community in the
world; few letters 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:
u mostbeloved/riend nd brother, the light %ur ,
the most respeetedAsad l, God lengthen his life and
teet his steps. .
n and the / God, ever nd ever. And we
God that gi\'e heolth and happiness, knowing
that it w pleose to hearthat weolso in perfect health,God
proised.
We did n! write u/ 10n time / the uneven
mann in which our life has progressing in the months.
/ather, God an! , has passedaway
and we, beilig tlJe eldest , had to spend much time and worry
the arrangeent / / afJairs. , has n God's
wi/l that the a.ffairs / his unworthyservanthave prospered nd
, the lJQving granted promotion to
lieutenant eolonel. addition, we hope soon to joined '" atri
mon .vith gi and beautifullady, second in 5hirln
- and '" t1Jis way old, unsettled days coming to close.
As is we//known to /riendly heart, we have n! n without
sin and ero '" past ~ u! did not Hafiz say,
' God, ho lJast thrown plank into the midst / sea
Couldst Tll0U have desired that it remain dry?'
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
1 am it does; Ali Agha has always had flair for life in the
capital and its int - 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
mana to keep Iran in s18te restlessness that makes it
wel1-nigh impossible for the strange, gifted nation to into
its own.
PERSIAN ~\ 271
affection for his people - for insisted that this interview
shoUld. t the ~ast, and aske? , as welI as Schul nburg~ to
tea next week at his at Shemran, the beautifuI
garden resort some miles out of Tehran.
1 arranged 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 d carriage
and stt foot in search some other means
. of t\",O iJes brought to vgwh 1
flld droshky, but when 1 arri..'ed at the
Embassy, it was about and half after the pointed
time. 1 found Schulenburg pacing and dowl1 his stud like
angry tiger, with hi:.: ! suavitygone: for his ussi
cum-ssdril 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 dict~s,
tremcly touchy?'
' horses to have overlooked this fine point, Count
ShuJhug,' was on1y l. '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 it 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 z Khan's l 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. l imed'
'WeJI, 1 wouldlike to see these horses yours! 1 thin they
272 ROAD
-3
', ZA YD, let us go' - and 1 put Agha's letter into
pocket and rise to say good-bye to Az-Zughaybi. But shakes
rus head: .
PERSIAN
281
No. brother. let Zayd stay here with for while. If thou
art niggardly ( tell lI 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
-2
LIBRARY 15 . , the old sllaykll and 1 alone in
the domed . From little mosque we hear the to
the prayer; and later the
f 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 s finished this first
phrase, the ' the minaret nearest us fs 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
)~'itness that tllere is God ut 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 v
mu'azzins, the proceed5: to , to }'n.
Hasten to e)'erlastil1g Iloppil1ess! Each of the voices seems {
awaken the others and to d,'aw { closer together. only {
286 ID
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 ll wanderings have always had but meaning: to
grasp the meamng of this ll ...
',' says Shaykh Ibn Bulayhid, 'Iet us go to thc mosquc
for the maghrib .'
- created /m germ-ce/l!
--
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 l
t him of their experiences and travels in distant .
Long travels nothing among the Najdis; they
themselves ahl aS/l-shidd -'l 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 tim, faraji l - 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 lugh, 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 { 1 do,
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 { s! farallji thyself?'- and when 1 nod,
wblspers, 'Pr~lise unto God, praise unto God, who guid
aright whomsoever \vishes ... Tell , brother" why is it.
that { faranjis are so urtmindful God ?'
'! is 10ng story,' 1 reply, 'and t explained in
fe\v \vords. that 1 t { no\v is {! { \\ld of {
faranjis has the world of the Dajja/, { Glittering, {
Deceptive . Hast { ever heard of our l Prophet's pre
diction that in latertimes ,most of the world's l \vould fol
low the Do.jja/, believing him to God?'
DAJJAL 293
And as looks at with question in his , 1recount, {
the visible approval 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 1l 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 refuge with 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, \l 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, or and more
people in their f are beginning { think that it is cnd in
itself and fit to worshipped.'
294
-4
. LONG TIME there is silence. Then the slzaykll speaks
again: 'Was it the realization ofwhat the Dajjal that made
thee embrace Islam, 1'
'In \, 1 think, it must have ; but it was n1 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 ~vinter day in
Afghanistan, when horse lost shoe and 1 hadto seek out
smith in viJIage that ] off path; and there told ,
"But thou art usli, 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 l .. .'
296 ROAD
310 ROAn
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 ll 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 sq to the main bazaar. 1 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?'
'nl 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
thi Sayyid Ahmad, for there is who has sacrificed hil
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 rememer 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.
~here is wondet'ful view down into the ll ofMecca with the
312
Jl 313
I
-2
'ND HOW ARE tbe mlljahidin faring, Sidi Muhammad l' 1
ask - for 1 have without news f'rom Cyrenaica for nearly
year.
round, wblte-bearded ofSidi Muhammad az-Zuwayy
darkens: 'The news is ! good, son. he figbting bas
ended some months ago. The mujabldil1 have broken; the
Iast bullet has been spent. Now l God's mercy stands
tween our nb l and the vengeance of their
sors .. .'
'd 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 aI-ukhtr- 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 rt - 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 m ...
JIHAD 321
1 bardly trust own voice as 1 say: 'For [ last year and
half, ever 1 retumed from Cyrenaica, 1 have 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 l ... and how calmly brushed
aside attempts at persuasion, knowig '::~ll 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 .. .'
'ut how could they!' 1 exclaim. 'Not even Graziani would
dare to do such terrible thing!'
'ut 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
m and, in falling, pinned him to the ground. ut 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 l, would ll\ thee to live? Art thou
prepared to promise that thou \vilt spend thy remaining years in
?" ut Sidi Umar replied: "1 shall not cease to fight gist
[ and thy people until either leave country or 1 leave
life. And 1 swear 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 ... "
hereupon General Graziani laugbed and givc the order that
322 ROAD 1"0
-3
SLL 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 l' behind.
sand crunches under our sanda:ls. Here and there group of
resting Ioad-camels discemed, and the of wuses
the distant periphery the square shows idistitl gaist the
l0i ight sky. It reminds of the fringe of distant forest
like those juir forests the tald of Cyrenaica where 1
first utrd Sidi Umar al-Mukhtar= and the of
that fruitless joumey wells withi with 11 its tragic
flavour of drkess 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 ....
J1HAD 329
about the hajj he had n 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, 1 did 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 1 promptlybecame 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 ns, 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 , iuDditl 00 receipt of Sayyid Ahniad's mes
sage, had contacted weH-kw member of the Egyptian
royal family who for years had ardent and active
supporter of the Sanusi cause. Princewas fu apprised of
the purpose of issi; 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 l 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 w as \vith \v Ul/s such are worn in
330 ROAD
westem Egypt and Libya. From the basement ofhis house Ismail
produced two short cavalry c,'1rncs 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 nl 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 11 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 11 tf bet\veen
Bahriyya and the Ni1e valley \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 l
tbe bullets as they passed over our heads. Lying our bellies,
we answdred the fire with our rifles.
'he searcblight, the searchlight!' someone shouted. 'Aim at
the searchlight!' - and the searchlight went , apparently shat
terred the buIlets of our sharpshooters. he 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. he Ita1ians were
apparently 10ath to l 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 li,' ... 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. he entire venture had taken about two months, and
our absence from the ijaz had hardly noticed ...
END ROAD
-1
E LEAVE MEDINA late at night, following the
the tents. 1 walk slowly down to the resting camels. With their
great bodies they uwed for themselves h01l0ws in the
~nd 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 1 pass and playfully grs
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
pen 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 ll at it stands quite still and seems to lost 11 fear.
he warmth of the young nil od penetrates - face and
chest; under the palm ofmy hand 1 sense the blood pounding
in its neck-vein; it merges with the beat of own blood and
awakens in overwhelming sense of closeness to Hfe itself,
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 1 approach the end of road.
hee has never other road for ; although 1 did
not know it for years, has always goal. It
ll to , 10ng before mind aware of it, with
powerfuJ voice: ' ingdom is in tbls world as well as in the
world to : ingdom waits for man's body as well as for
his soul and extends over 1l 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 u of years, a1I this m clear to , 1 knew
where 1 belonged: 1 knew that ( brotherhood Islam had
waiting for ever since 1 was born; and 1 embraced Islam.
he 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 ti
BND R.OAD 347
Elsa and her little 8, 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 ~teerage 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 ingdom after years of hard labour in Europe. Besides
these, there was small group of Arabs from who had
board at Marseil1es. also were returning m.
he 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 l 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 1 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 l 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?
he problem of these deepened in mind into prob
lm 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 Wst:-
cultural i...1luences, the souls of Muslim and women
are slowly shrivg. 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
-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'
'hat rna so, Zayd, brother: but somehow 1 l those
other journeys will in this land. 1 have wandering in
r 50 10ngthat 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
flow ifit is to remain clear? 1 want, 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, 1 love 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 ing is planning to
his country to faranjis, 50 that gain from them:
will a110w them dig for in AI-Hasa, and for gold in the
Hijaz - and God l0 knows what 11 this w do to the beduins.
his c<>untry wil1 never the same again ...'
OLlt the hush of the desert night 50unds tbe beat gal
loping camel. 10l rider rushes with fiying saddle-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 .1-
BND ROA'D 351
fire and sits down the ground, st 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 ig - is shthd in go1:1; and his
mount is excellent, honey-coloured dromedary of { 'r(orth
' , slim-limbed, w 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 jinn l'
'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 l had
fallen into heart. 1 love her, but her father, that dog, wouldn't
give his daughter inmarriage, the beggar - and said that she
was al~raid of ! 1 ofered lot of as her dower, also 2
piece of land; always refused and in the end
her of 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 fiick.~ring 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 s, 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
ll see Abu Said's heart before , lump offlesh and blood
smoking in the r of passion as if in l 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 ...
h 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 nk eyes, Zayd gently pulls
closer to himself:
'0 Abu Said, how canst thou forget thyselflike this? Thou art
\varrior, Abu Said ... Thou has ked 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. Z.,,! 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 hori~on 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 ind visible in the heavens
time eternal, symbol of and grace, remembrance of the
rescue sent to l the pain of human heart - and thus
solace to those wbo \vere to after: to those who 1]
lost in the desert, and to those others who stumbIe, weeping
deso]ate, through the wild~mess of their own lives.
BND R,OAD s
And Zayd goes , his hand raised toward the sky, speaking
solemnly and at the same time unassumingly, as l an r
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 is 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 IS 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 h 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 l0 explains the great
given Islam to the I pi1grimage ,
which earliest times intimately connected with the
story of Abraham. \vas not - so Westerners mis
takenly ssu - brought into the orbit of Arab thought
Muhammad in attempt, as it were, to 'borrow' elements of
religious lore from Judis: for it is historically established that
Abraham's personality \vas well known to the Arabs long before
th~ birth of Islam. referellces to the patriarch -in the KoraB
itself so worded as to leave doubt that had Iiving
in the foreground oftl-.~ 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 thorougJy familiar. Indeed, already in pre-Islamic times
7.
354 ROAD
over it, they concluded that there must water. Some oftheir
rode into the valley to explore it and found lonely woman
with child sig 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 fir~t 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, Allahua, /abbayk!' when they
proach the Holy City.
-5
'LABBA , ALLAH UMMA, LABBA . .'
How times have 1heard this during five pilgrim
ages to . 1 seem to hear it no\v, as 1 lie near zayd and
Said the fire.
1 close eyes and the and the stars vanish. 1 lay
rm over face, and not even the light of the fire now
trate eyelids; ll sounds of tll~ 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 ll 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. '
hece 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 ll 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 \\'as provided the
I
-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 nials. 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. his
proud and passionate youth poured i exuberance into the lap
of Al-Lat, 'whose loveliness is like the shine of the m 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 11, 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 ll the
372
Abd aI-Aziz ibn Saud (ins 01 saudi Ali (Muhanunad's $On-in-Iaw and
Arabia): Ibn Saud t Cli) 274 tr
Abd al-arim, 313 Al-Jawf, 244
Abd aI-Qdir, 313 Itana, 121
Abd aI-Wahha, Muhanunad ibn, 159 1~hwazmi (ra mathematiciar.),
tr, 174 (, 232 . "348
Abd ar-Rahman (father ins Ibn 1-. (goddess ! rtility), 371
Saud), 164 tr, 171 Also SprQCl1 ZQrQlhustra (Nietzsche), 54
Abd ar-Rahman as-Siba'i, 231, 232 tr AI-Mahdi, Sayyid Muhammad, 315,
Abduh, Muhanunad, 160, 188 336
Abdullah, ir (1ater ing) ...,.. AI.Marahi, Shaykh taf, 188 tr,
jordan, 109 tr, 198; his $ Talal, 193
112 & note Amanullah. h, inB ! Afghanistan
Abrabam.(in Old TestameDt), 43, 49 (, 214,296
56, 91, 186, 353 tr, 369 (see Q/.ro mma, 109
gr and Ishmael) . Anayza, 233
Abu aIa (Mubammad's sl1CCCSSOr ra cultural heritage: , Muslim
and ! Caliph), 232, 276, 279 Civilization
Abu arayyim, 323 Independen<:e, 104 (, 112 312 tr
Abu Said, 351 tr, 371 Arab-Jewish question, 92 tr, 105
Academy Geopolitics, erlin, 299, ra, 9 Qndpassim
307 Arabian mic, 102f, 108 , 131 fI', 221
Ad-Dawisb, FaysaJ, 159, 173 (, 176, ArabiQn Nights, 75, 157
221, 233 tr; his raid into lraq, 200, Arafat. Plain , 23, 373
221 '; leads eduin revolt against rj, 220, 221, 247
Ibn Saud. 224 tr, 229 ff, 245 , 327 Anei, 107
Adler, Alfred, 59 Ar,.Rumma, Wadi, 236
Afghanistan, 214, 295 (, 298 Artawiyya, 221 , 226 f
Agha, Ali; letter ( author, 253.tr, 2 Asad, uhnmad: as Pakistan's
, 272, 280; in Dasht-i-Lut desert Minister Plenipotentiary ( U.N, 1.
with author, 255 , 8; his conversion ( Islam, 1, 8,
os Salim, 16, 3 J3 16, 47, 89, 16.9 , 188, 197 (, 214 (,
Ah/-i-lJdith movement (in India), 160 295 ff, 305 tr, 309 tr; , friendship
Ahmad, Sayyid (the rand Sanusi), 40, with ing Ibn Saud, 16 tr, 39; death
3]2 tr, 324 tr, 329, 332, 335 t, 343; his wife Elsa, 16,38,40,47,360,
auacks Briti~hin Wor1d War 1, 317 370; his ilg~ 10 , 16,
(, 325, 337, 343; in t, 318 23, 40, 47, 356 tr, 361 tr; is lost
Ahmad, Shah lran, 267 in desert, 22 tr; ! Khan-ihet
Ajman, ( (tn"be), 226, 242, 247 vanserai, 32 tr; mission (
AI"Afghani: see Jamal ad-Din al- Cyrenaica, 40, 47, 322, 325 tr; Itis
Afghani Arab wife in Medina, 47, 154,283;
AIAqsa Mosque (Jerusalem), 89 s childhood in Poland and Austria,
AI-Ataywish, 323 50 tr; religious education, 55;
AlAzhar University (Cairo), 188 (, university studies in Viea, 57 tr;
193, 196 gins jouma]istic career in erlin,
Alassam, Abdullah, 233 tr 60 tr; interviews dme Gorky, 64
I-ttli (An;b mthematici), 348 tr; his rs! joUrney ( MiddJe East,
AJeppo, 199,206 68 tr, ] 36, ]84 (; reads Lao-tse, 71 tr;
Alcxandria, 76, 79, 342 his,stay in Jef\lS31em, 87 tr; becomes
Algeria, 107,315 , special esdt Frank/urter
AIHasa, 17~ " 226, 245 Zeitung, 96 tr; s book the N
AI-Hufuf,176 s! (Unromantis..ches Morgen/Qnd),
Al-Idris, Sayyid Muhammad (1ater 97, 138, 142 tr, 185; visits ( C8iro,
king of ), 318, 320,337 tr 105 tr, 185, ]87 tr; and Transjordan,
377
378 INDBX
109 6; travels to and in Syria, 113 fI'; rades, 5 ,292
slays in Damascus, 125 If; rcads the Cyrenaica, 40, 314, 316 ff, 320 ff;
, 128 (,190 (, 214, 00, 309 ; author'smissionto, 322, 315 , 3341f
and Elsa, 14. (, 144, 300, 347, 360;
his marriage to ra child bride, 154 Dajjal, of the, 292 If
"; dreams ! future convcrsion ' Damascus,1I3f,1I9 1f,I29ff,198,20I,
Islam, 168 ff; his serond journey to 205, 243 f, 245, 319; bazaar of, 115
Middle East, 185, 198 "; Islamic (, 153 , 3~; autbor's i, 12S
studies in Cairo, 187 ff, 198: malaria tf, 185
allack, 194, 196; first meeting with Dammerr, Dr., 63 (, 74
Z1yd, 200; joumey from Aleppo Dar'iyya, 160,232
to Baghdad, 199 ff, 206; shooting Dasht-i-Lut c!esert, 254 If
incident in bazaar ! Baghdad, 208 David, in (in Old Te;stameot), 90 (,
; travels in Iran and Afghanis 296 f .
, 210 ", 216, 255 If, 272 If, 296; Dayr azZor, 199,1f
secret joumey to Kuwayt, 229 If;
writes articles eduin revolt, 245 .. 12, 23, 40, 79 f, 104, 107, 185,
f; with ALi Agha in Dasht-i-Lut 314, 316, 320, 323 If, 328, 332, 337,
desert, 255 fI'; t Riza , 270 340 ff, 356, 360;Bnt;~h rUIe in, 105,
If; retum to and marriage ' 316 '
Elsa, 300 , 306 {; first meeting witb
Sayyid Ahmad. 313; journey to Farafra, 324, 340
, 344 If Farhan ibo Mashbur, 243 f; 247
Atayba (tnbes), 225 If, 374 Faysal, Amir ($ ! g Ibo Saud),
yna, 232 17
Az-Zughaybi, Shaykh, 252 (, 280 FaysaJ, g ! Iraq, 247
Az-Zuwayy, Sidi Muhammad, 312, Faysal ad-Dawish: see Ad-Dawish
317,320 If, 324, 342 Frankfurt, 137, 299
FTa"k/uTte Zeilf!1f6, 96 If, 105 (, 113,
abylon,5O 13'ff, 141, 18SL 198, 299, 306 f
Baghdad, 38, 148 (, 205 fI', 210, 223, Freud, Sigmund.,8
234, 242; shooting incident in
zar , 208 f G, 114 f
ahr, 363 ,83
:;in, 234 Ghatghat, 224
h, 324, 330 f,34O Ghazni, 298
Balfour Declaration (1917), 93, 99 GQrky, Madame, 64 If
ani Suef, 329, 331 Gorky, Maxim, 64
aniyas, 117 f Graziani. neral, 321
asra, 38, 149, 228 (, 233 (, 242, 246 Grasso , 59
eduin court ! justice, 150 If
ed (/khwan) revolt against Ibn , Jacob de, 98 (, 106, 112
Saud. 39 (,47, 159,222, 224 If. 228 ff, Hafiz (Persian poet), 153, 213
246 Hagar aod Ishmael, in pre-Islamic
ir,l98 traditioD, 354 ff
erlin, 51, 60 fI',
74, 96, 141,308 Haifa, 113, 119, 228, 246
BibIe, The, 43,,50, 55, 91 (, 129, 186, Hall, 148 (, 162, 165, 173 (, 183, 220;
288,353 f 223, , 231, 241, 247. 252; Ibn
Birjand, 205 Saud's conquest , 159, 176; 209,
Bisayya, Fort , 222 If 219,222,223
Bisha, \Vadi, 178 (pi1grimage to ), 252, 329,
okhara, 299, 366 369
, 234, ~42 Hamrnada Desert, 20_
Buddhism, 4, 77 Hanifa, VJadi, 232
Harb, ' (tribe), 22f1344, 374
Cairo,1Cl5 ff, 113, 185, 187 If. 194, 198, Harun ar-Rashid, 201
234,317 Harut and Marut,legend of, 146 r, 161
Chin,2 Ha~n, (son ! Ali), 277 If
Christianity, , 75, 77 6, 140, 147,192, HaHn d, 365
290, 295, 303, 308 Hash.ish, 36
INDEX 379
ert, 29S , 298
Iraq, 12, , 130, 149 , 206, 209 8', 219,
ijaz, thc. 17,84, 110, 137, 176, 118,
222 8',228,231,233, 235., 247,
222,224,228,328,342, 361, 372 .292
Hinduism,4, 147 lsiac (in 0Id Tcstament), 43
Hindg.KUsb. 47,214,296 lsaiah, the Pro!, 10,56
ira, of, 14S,287 Isfahan, 206, 213, 360
yn ($ , 274 If Ishmael, su aaar and Isbmacl
Islam, author's vei to, 1, . 16,
l Bujad, Sultan, 224 If 47, 89, 169 , 184, 188, 197 , 214 f,
Ibn Bulayhid,. Shaykh bduab, 182 ?-95! 298, ~OS 8', 310 If; Wes\'s pre
C,18S ,292 , 311 JudlCC inst, S , . 190, 291;
I Hadhlayn, 226 and hristianity, 7S, 147,290, 303.
I , Jablr ( sc:ientist), 348 308; doctri of oriPnal SiD in,
Ibn Jiluwi, Abdul1ah, 171 128, 147, 192; and Muslim c;ivili.
Ibn Musaad. Amir, 149 If. 154. ISS. zation, 1~3 (~ 190 If, 277, 282 (,297,
162. 171 , 183.224,227,136 304 ; and legend or arut and
Ibn Rashid, uc , 19, 165:- 209. Marut, 146 ; and Wahbabism, 110,
231; warfare between Ibn Saud and, J60 [, 175 ; [ 8aud as champion
148. 158. 170 If. 175 (,181 , 166, 177, 18J, 315;an inteUectual,
Ibn Rashid, uba'lad. 165. 170 If. t emotional, proposition. 197,
181. 300; absence of pricsthood iD, 215,
I Rimal. Ghadhban, , 154, 156 If 301 ; schism into Sunoi and
1 5aud, al-Aziz. ng, 1, 12, . ShUtes. 276; its priociplo elcctive
lS. 19. 148 (, 151, 169 1f,2OO, 231, success.ion to the Caliphatc. 216; in
264. 320. 3S1; author's friendship lran (S1ria .doctri~ 271 8'; and
"ith, 16 , 39; his geoerosity. , 20 womao" socia1 POS.i110i1" 2j3 8', 297 ;
r. 162: warfare between the hostility to Muhammad's teadJing in
I Rashid aod. 148. 158 (. 170 If. :, 289 If; its ncep! nC the irue
I7S (. 181; beduin revo1t under Ad fULction liOciety, 30) 11'; preseot
Dawish against, lS9. 221. 214 227 . d fai1ure to irnlemet origina1
. 23S. 245 , 326; his wife Jawhara, teaching of, 304 ; and the Sanusi
163 ; his 10 for his fatber Abd Order, 314 (, 327
Rahman, 164 ; conquest his Islamic cu1ture: see Muslim civili2ation
.
kingdom. 165, 171 17S, 2.09. 219. Islamic Law, 39, 186,302, 328; reaaI
222; childhood reminiscenc:es, 16S (; ing ia nd women. 284 {
as champion Isl, 166. 177, 181, Istamic scholai'ship, 188 If, 282 . m
325; dreams victorY over Ibn Ismail adh-Dhibl, 329 f
Rashid, 171; and the lkh'Qll. 174 (, Jsta.nbul, 113, J36
223; his characteristit;s and railings,
117 ; opposes Faysal ad-Dawish, JabaJ. Akhdar, 40, 332 If, 336, 4
223 ff' (su l1 edu revo1t); J (in Old Testament),188
sends author secret mission to Jaghbub, 314, 332, 340
Kuwayt. 229 ff llu, 332, 340
Ibn Saud. uc or, 160.232 Jamal d-Din l-Afgbai. 160, 188
. Ibrahim (author's servant). 32 Java,23
, 20S(, 210, 257, 259, 271, 296 Jeremiah, the Prophet, 56
Jkh'n. Ihe ('brethren'). 174 f, 223 (, Jerusalem, 8J, 87 If, 109,113,199
236. 243 (; revo1t against Ibn Saud. Je\vish-Arab qllestion, 92 8', 10S, 199
224 If.227 If, 236, 239, 327 Jidda, 17, 222, 245, 326, 358, 360 (,
India. 2, 9, 23. 160,253 363, 36S
lran. 32. 107, 130. 20, 210. 260, 263, Judaism, 55 , 7S, 353
380 INDEX
emaI tatk. 110. 136, 268, Mubarak, Sbaykh of Kuwayt, 166"
297.319 171. 173 .
khadUa (wife Muhammad). 288 Muhammad, he Prophet, 7. 86. 88,
balid ($ in Ibn Saoo), 163 166, 178. 187. 191 C.197. 232, 286 .
han-i-Khet caravllDSel'8i. 32 IJ 301 . 353. 369.; hisfst n:ve1ation in
haDiqin. 210 cave ira, 145, 'f87 ; bis city
irman (provinc:e Ira). 32, 216. cdioa. 248 , 251 ;.humanaess ,
2S4f.2S8 251. 301; s success9lS to the
irmansbab. 274 caJiphate. 2.76 ff; ~is tomb in
KlilnischeZeilug. 307 edina. 286; his wife hadija. 288;
n. the. 28.110.166.170.177.187. hostility ( his teacbing in ,
195. 251. 285. 291. 295. 299 . 315. 289 tr; bis prophetic: mission, 301;
369; author studics. 128 . 190. 214. bis last pi!grimage to . 344,
300 . 309 ; encouragesscieoceand 368
lming, 191 . 297; openi SIII'Q . Muhammad ($ ing Ibn Saud),
214 ; reveJation to Muhammad . 163
287 ; cohesion between its mora1 uhaunad ibn Ali as Sani. 314
teacbiqa1lA its practical guidaoc:e. -Mujo/ridill, the (fighters the SliDusi
3' Order), 316 , 320 , 32.3 . 337 tr
Kurra. 324. 335 ff Mumau, . W. 61 f
Kucl1uk han. 266 Musaylima (the 1"a1se prophet'), 232
Kuh, Antoa, 62 MusIim civilization, 153 , 348 ;
I(urdistalf: 211 tr. 272 European encroachment , J04 ;
Kuwayt, 40. 149'. 166 . 170 IJ. 226 . dec . 190. 193,282 , 2.97. 304;
233 tr. 246.: apthor's sec:m jourey Is1am and, 153 , 190 , 279. 282 ,
00,229 ff 297. 3lf
Mus1im 'Catalism', 158 , 190
Lao-tse. 71 IJ tann (ra poet), 152
Lawrence.
. . 155.243 Mutayr, the (tribe). 220 , 222. 224 ,
bano.93 240. 247
Libya.47. 104.314 . 332; SliDusi figbt
! independeoc:e . 312, 317 Naif au ilab, 247
Lw6w. 51. 54 Najd, 17. 19 . 23, 38,136,148 . IS9 ,
173, 175, 179, 183, 222 tr, 228, 231.
ghri. the (tribe), 323 2.32 tr, 2SO
Mansur al-ssa. 183 . 197 . 214. Neue Ziircher Zeitunz, 253. 307
21,248 Nietzsche, Friedrich, 54, 59
Marsa Matruh, 342 . Nubla, 107
, 9. 16 ff. 37, 41, 68, 87. 89, 93, Nufud, (" 10 . 38. 43. 183. 244, 2S2
164, 178 , 225, 253, 287, 320, 344IJ, Nuri asb-Shaa1Do, 243
370; author's pilgrimages , 16.23,
40, 47, 217, 356 ff, 361 ffj cave of Opium, 36, 255, 27~
Hira oear, 145.287; Ibn Saud's Original Sin, 77, 128. 147, 192
quest . 176, 224 , 233; Muham Palestine. 50, ii), 109, 112 . 116. 123 ,
mad's tein in, 289 tr; Mosque 185, 228; Arab-Jewish question in,
the at. 313, 365 ff; Sanusi 92 tr, 105
fraternity in, 314 ; Muhammad's Psychoanalysis, 58 (, 74. 168
last pilgrimage , 344. 368; and
story ! Hagar and Ishmae1. 354 . Qasr Athaymin, 10 f
Medina. 24, 41,89, 148, 154 (. 176.222, Qisma, 32
224. 245. 249, 289. 312, 327.342,
344; 'City ! the Prophet. 248 (.25 1 Rarnadan (month). 187 r
; the 1 Mosque !, 249. 286 . Ranya. 38
310; bazaar . 250. 252; library , Riyadh.15, 17,20,38 (. 159.164. 165 r.
2~2~ . 170. 172 ff. 223 ff. 227. 230 ff, 245.
Meshhed. 205 247
Metulla, 116 (. 119 (, 123 f Riyal (!;ilve!' coin), 234, 239ff. 243.245
. 104. 107 Riza h ( Miriister. later Shah
Moses. 145, 186,369 " ! 'r). 2S4, 264, 270 ff; ~ rise to
Mu'awiyya (fifth Caliph).276 f\Ower. :54, 2 ff
INDBX 381
Riza Tawfiq 8, Dr.,HOC Tripoli, 198,
Russia, 64, 266, 299 TripolitaDia, 316
Turkestan. 2. 299
Salih, Muhammad, 349 Turkey, 136, 175 , 185, 195, 1.99,210,
SaUum, 339 "243,316, 318 ff
Sausi Order, 160, 313 fi'; earlyhistory (son King 100 Saud), 164
, 314 tf; waging war 1ndepen
dence iD renai. 316, 318 tf, 326 Umar (sec:ond Caliph), 277, 219
ff, 334 11'; in World War 1,316 af-Mukhtar, Sidi, 40, 318, 320
Saod, Amir (eldest $ ing Ibn ff, 326 . 335 11'
Saud, now ina Saudi Abia), Umayyad Mosque (in Damascus), 121
167 ff United Telegraph, 63, 6s , 73 , 97
5au1, KiDg (iD Old Testamcnt), 91
Schulenburg, Count \'00 der, 270
u.s.s.a..," Russia
USSYSIIkiD. , 92
cuta, dervisbes at, 195 ff uthman (daird Caliph), 276,279, 286
Shakib ArsIan, Amir, 178
ShaqJ;8, 231 ff V: der euIe, Dr., 137
Shanr yn, in the Hijaz, 93, Vienna, 51, 56, 74, 136 , 168
110, 176 , 181, 224, 233; SbarifiaD Vitel6, SipoI, 194, 196
CamiJy, 110,222, 228
Shia doctrine, 277 ff
Sraz, 2, 206 Wahbabism, 110, 159 , 232, 282; _
Si, Dr. lleinrich, 137 , 306 IIISO Abd aJ-Wabha, Muhammad
Sinai Desert, 81 11', 135, 184 ibn
Siwa, 331 , 340 Waraqa (kinsman MuIJ;immad's
Spain, 95, 192 wife). 288
Speng1er, 00, 59 Weizmar, Dr 94 ,ff
Cbair,
Steek.1, enann, 59 WorldWar 1, 56 f, 59, 70, 155, 175,
Sudan,107 256,266, 3Ji6
Su\luba, the, 238 fI'
Sykes-Picot Agrcement (1917), 93 Zmviya (Iodge , SanusiOrder), 314,
Syria, 50, 93, 95, 107, 130 , 149, 185, 342
192, 211, 229; author's travels to Zayd ibn Ghanim (author's
and in, 113 tf, 198 ff ion), 10 t1IIil pDSs;m; his physiquc
and characteristics, 11, 11, 67; joins
z, 205 author in :. 37 , 68, 208; first
Ta'iC, 224 , 371 meetg with.author, 200 ; saws
Talmud, he, 55 author's liCe in bazaar aghdad,
Tashkent, 299 208 ; and the Jinns, 219 , 237;
, 10 , 21, 41, 68 secret journey 10 Kuwayt, 230 fI', 25
TehJ;8n,206, 253 tf, 260, 264, 267 , 270 ff; mission to Cyrenaica, 327 ff
, 280; bazaar , 260 fI' zia ad-Din ( Minister lran),
T~/eg'(JQI(PC Amsterdam), 307 267
Transjordan, 109, , 185, 198, 228, Zionism, 74, 92 ff, 105, 111, 185
242 Zoroastrian cult, 277