Palestine

by C. R. Conder

On the east the eye is met at a distance of only two miles by the edge of the Moab plateau, which shelves away eastward; and on the south a long ridge closes the scene at a distance of about five miles. On the north-east the hillocks on which Heshbon and Elealah were built stand above the plateau, and Jebel Osh’a in Gilead appears behind, shutting out the Sea of Galilee and Hermon. It is on the west that the scene is most extensive, including all the Judean watershed, all Samaria and Lower Galilee, to Tabor and Belvoir. Carmel is hidden behind Jebel Hazkin, which is close to the Jordan Valley, and 700 feet higher than Carmel.

On the south-west is Yukin, the city of the Kenites, perched high above the Jeshimon or desert of Judah, and in front of the great precipices of that desert lies the Dead Sea, of which the northern half only is seen. Herodium, Bethlehem, and Jerusalem are all in sight, and beneath are the traditional tomb of Moses—in the desert of Judah—the precipice of Quarantania, and below this the dark groves round ancient Jericho.

North of Jerusalem is seen Nebi Samwil with the mosque over the Crusading tomb of Samuel, and Baal Hazor with its oak clump, and Gerizim with Ebal to the right, and the deep cleft of the Vale of Shechem between them. Under these is the white cone of the Sartaba towering over the Jordan Valley, and at our feet the thorn groves of the plain of Shittim east of the river. To the north-west appear Hazkin and Tabor, as already noticed; and the chain of Gilboa with the dim outline of Galilean hills marks the farthest extent of the view. Seen in autumn, the whole was singularly bare and colourless, for the green hues of spring were absent, and the dusty valley of Jordan, with the white marl banks near the river, contrasted with the black snake-like jungles marking the course of the stream and of the various tributaries, such as the waters of Nimrim.

The view thus described appears to be in accordance with the Old Testament account (Deut. xxxiv. 1-3), and the eastern geography of the Pentateuch is as easy generally to trace on the ground as is the topography of the Book of Joshua west of the river. Naphtali, Gilead, Ephraim and Manasseh, Judah, and the Negeb, or “dry land” south of Hebron, are all in sight, with the plains of Jericho “unto Zoar.” The only difficulty lies in the mention of Dan and of the western sea, which are not in sight from this ridge.

The south limit of the Adwân country and of the Survey was formed by the magnificent gorge now called Zerka Main, the Callirrhoe of Josephus, where are the hot baths in which the miserable Herod was bathed during his last sickness. This valley seems to be noticed in the Pentateuch under the name Nahaliel, “Valley of God,” as one of the camping-places of Israel. The top of the cliffs is here 2500 feet above the Dead Sea, and the hot springs in the valley are 1600 feet above the same level. The cliffs, 900 feet high, are precipitous for the most part, but a winding descent leads down on the north. The scenery is magnificent. A black basalt bastion and brown limestone walls of rock face northwards, and on the north side are precipices of yellow, red, pink, and purple sandstone, with gleaming chalk above and the rich green of palm groves beneath. The hot streams flowing from the northern slopes are crusted along their course with yellow and orange sulphur deposits, and the hottest spring—about 140° Fahr.—has formed a breccia terrace near the remains of the Roman baths, a hundred feet above the bed of the torrent, which flows with cold water from springs higher up the valley. The Arabs still bathe, or rather steam themselves, sitting over this spring, to cure rheumatism, from which they often suffer. They have a legend of a demon slave of Solomon who found the spring, and Dr. Tristram mentions sacrifices at the spot, which—though I did not see any such performed—would be in accordance with Arab custom in other places in the deserts.

We found a great contrast between the Arabs and the Fellahin in the matter of folk-lore. The Fellah legends are, as a rule, of very little interest, and most of those which we collected are to be found in the Korân. But all the desert Arabs with whom I am acquainted are only in name Mohammedan, and are, strictly speaking, pagans; and they are very fond of legendary tales, so that we collected more of these in two months east of Jordan than we got in four years west of the river. I have devoted a chapter in a previous work to the legends which we collected in the Adwân country, including the story of Aly and the wishing well of Minyeh, which sprang up under his spear; of Aly and the city of Antar; of Aly and the City of Brass. The romantic tale of Zeid and Ghareisah, an Arab Romeo and Juliet, is connected with a rude inscription in Wâdy Jideid. The story of the “Dish of Abu Zeid” has already been mentioned; and at the ruin of Tyrus, farther north, we have the legend of the prince, his daughter, and the black slave. At a place near El Marighât called Hana wa Bana is localised an Arab version of Æsop’s fable of the man with an old and a young wife. This proverbial story is, however, known all over Syria. Then again in the Jordan Valley are shown the pits of the hero Zîr, legends concerning whom are known to the Maronites, but taken from printed story-books, which, I believe, come from Egypt. I would here only note that within a comparatively small district we collected from the Arabs no less than eight folk-lore tales in a few weeks, only one of which was previously known, and that one gathered from the Abu Nuseir Arabs at Jericho. The Arabs showed no reserve in relating these stories as soon as they saw that we also enjoyed them; and none of them, as far as I know, belong to the printed tales of Egyptian collections, except that of Zîr and Hakmun. This wealth of folk-tales contrasts with the barrenness of Fellah imagination; and though it is of course possible that something of interest may be extracted from the Fellahin, they cannot be said to be remarkable for their love of legendary tales. The Kalmuk Tartars, even, are far more imaginative and poetic in their folk-lore than are the peasants west of Jordan, and the Arabs, who produced so many poets, even earlier than Muhammad, are intellectually a finer race than the Fellahin.

As above observed, the Arabs of the desert are practically pagans. They do not pray as Moslems should do, and they are as much addicted to the worship of the dead as the Fellahin. The graves of famous chiefs and of dervishes, or reputed Welys, are visited by the Arabs, who there offer small objects, such as pieces of blue pottery, old coins, berries, and pebbles, placed on the little dolmen table on the west side of the surrounding circle. The wives cut off their hair, and the plaited pig-tails are hung on a string on the husband’s tomb. An Arab passing by a graveyard often kisses the tombstones. This seems to constitute their chief religious observance. They, however, celebrate the yearly feast while the Moslem pilgrims are at Mecca, slaying camels and eating the flesh; but this feast was an Arab festival long before Islam, and, as far as my experience goes, the true Arabs are ignorant of the Korân, and have no fanatical feeling. I have never actually seen them worshipping the sun or the moon, but they face the sunrise while visiting the tombs, and their frequent legends of Aly agree with the fact that down to the present century they belonged to the great faction of the Yemeni, as opposed to the Keis faction, to which the greater part of the villagers west of Jordan belonged. These factions represent the survival of a political feud as old as the seventh century A.D. between the adherents of Aly, including most of the Yemen Arabs, and the followers of the Damascus Khalifs. The Arabs east of Jordan are thus connected with Persia rather than with Palestine, and it was from Persia that all the most imaginative elements in the religion of Islam came first. Persian Muhammadism is the creed of Islam as influenced by the older creed of the Zoroastrians. Syrian Muhammadism is the creed of Islam as influenced by association with Christianity and Judaism.

The tribes among which we lived were very rich in camels. The droves were really countless, and were herded like cattle, and neither saddled nor fitted with halters. They were kept for milk and for breeding, not for transport, and the camel so seen east of Jordan was a different beast to his hard-worked brother in the villages. Property in this case depended on branding, and the brands were the tribe-marks of the owner’s tribe. I had thus an opportunity of studying at leisure the question of tribe-marks, concerning which most extraordinary theories have been broached, one writer regarding them as planetary signs, and another as rough sketches of totems. Of that which (by an unlucky misnomer) is called Totemism, I have never been able to find any traces in Syria, though I have studied it among the Bechuanas of South Africa. The simple fact as regards Arab tribe-marks is, that they are letters of the old Arab alphabets of the Nejed and of Yemen. This I have been able clearly to show in the case of every tribe-mark which we collected among the Arabs.

In closing this chapter, I ought to record the services of our ally, Sheikh Goblan en Nimr. His early adventures are well known, and he was one of the most remarkable men whom I met in Syria. He belonged to the junior branch, but to the elder generation, of the Adwân tribe, which is divided under two ruling families. Aly Diab, the ruling chief of the elder branch, is a friend of the Turks, but Goblan was a sturdy and independent leader of the free or anti-Turkish party. So strong were his feelings on this subject, that he could hardly hear the name of Turk with any patience. This strong feeling made him perhaps the most popular personage beyond Jordan, and wherever we went the tribesmen received him with marks of reverence and affection. He had earned the reputation of being greedy and grasping, and I have no doubt he regarded every stranger as fair prey, from whom the uttermost farthing was to be exacted. But in spite of this greed for money, which all Arabs alike show in dealing with travellers, Goblan was not a miser. The gold I gave him was scattered with royal munificence, and was gone as soon as he got it. There was very much in his character which was admirable, and yet more that was romantic. He was a man of honour, who having once sealed a treaty, stuck to his word, and smoothed our path when many even of his own sons and nephews were afraid to come near us. There is no doubt that if, instead of science, our object had been intrigue, we might without difficulty have raised a revolt in Moab, which Goblan would have headed with great satisfaction. At one time I think he suspected us of some such project, and was rather disappointed that we should submit to Turkish authority.

In his youth Goblan received a serious sword-cut in the face from an angry relative. The details of the story I have not heard, but it is well known how ashamed he was of this wound, which he always hid with his Kufeyeh shawl. He had also been guilty of murder, having run through with his lance the owner of a fine grey mare in the desert. He was, I believe, unaware that the man he slew was one of the Beni Sakhr chiefs, but the consequence was a blood feud which threatened his life for many years. Thus on the south and east he was in peril from the neighbouring tribesmen, while on the north the Turks lay in wait.