Tent Work in Palestine: A Record of Discovery and Adventure

by C. R. Conder

If we may judge the origin of any people by language, then by their dialect, the descent of the Fellahîn, or “tillers,” may be traced from older inhabitants of Palestine, and perhaps from the pre-Israelite population, which—despite the fierce onslaught of the first Jewish conquerors under Joshua—was, as we may gather from the Bible, never entirely outrooted, but remained in the land (in much the same position as that which the Saxons occupied under their Norman rulers) as a distinct people, though members of the same great family (the Semitic race), regarded as inferior to the Jewish dominant class, “hewers of wood,” “drawers of water,” “the beasts of the people.” It was precisely to this peasantry that the educated Jews of the second century of our era assigned the Aramaic language; the holy Hebrew of the Sacred Books being confined to the priests, by whom chiefly, after the return from the Captivity, that more ancient tongue appears to have been studied.

It is interesting to inquire whether foreign influence is traceable in the peasant language. Foreign words do indeed occur, such as “Burj” for a tower, or “burg,” and El Mineh for a harbour, which has already been explained to be a corruption of the Greek Limen; but these words, with many Crusading names of places which are attached to mediæval or later sites, cannot properly be said to be commonly used in the language; in fact, it is extraordinary to note how very small the influence of foreign conquerors, Greek, Roman, or Frank, seems to have been on the language. The pretentious titles, Eleutheropolis, Nicopolis, Scythopolis, etc., have quite disappeared, and the old native names of these cities, Beth Gubrin, Emmaus, Bethshean, etc., are those now known, with the important exception of Nâblus, the modern name for Neapolis, the ancient Shechem—a change which may perhaps be traced to Jewish hatred of the name of Shechem.

Their language, then, seems to show that the Fellahîn are a people well worthy of study, because apparently of a very ancient stock, which is still preserved comparatively pure; and we may therefore naturally expect their religion, habits, and customs to have an interesting bearing on the graphic accounts of peasant life which are found in the Bible.

By their religious peculiarities, still further light is thrown on the history of the modern Fellahîn.

The professed religion of the country is Islam, the simple creed of “one God, and one messenger of God;” yet you may live for months in the out-of-the-way parts of Palestine without seeing a mosque, or hearing the call of the Muedhen to prayer. Still the people are not without a religion which shapes every action of their daily life, a religion of most complex growth, requiring the utmost patience to enable us to trace it to its various original sources.

In almost every village in the country a small building surmounted by a whitewashed dome is observable, being the sacred chapel of the place; it is variously called Kubbeh, “dome;” Mazâr, “shrine;” or Mukâm, “station,” the latter being a Hebrew word used in the Bible for the “places” of the Canaanites, which Israel was commanded to destroy “upon the high mountains, and upon the hills, and under every green tree” (Deut. xii. 2).

Just as in the time of Moses, so now, the position chosen for the Mukâm is generally conspicuous. On the top of a peak, or on the back of a ridge, the little white dome gleams brightly in the sun; under the boughs of the spreading oak or terebinth; beside the solitary palm, or among the aged lotus-trees at a spring, one lights constantly on the low building, standing isolated, or surrounded by the shallow graves of a small cemetery. The trees beside the Mukâms are always considered sacred, and every bough which falls is treasured within the sacred building.

The Mukâms are of very various degrees of importance; sometimes, as at Neby Jibrîn, there is only a plot of bare ground, with a few stones walling it in; or again, as at the Mosque of Abu Harîreh (a Companion of the Prophet), near Yebnah, the building has architectural pretensions, with inscriptions and ornamental stone-work. The typical Mukâm is, however, a little building of modern masonry, some ten feet square, with a round dome, carefully whitewashed, and a Mihrab or prayer-niche on the south wall. The walls round the door, and the lintel-stone are generally adorned with daubs of orange-coloured henna, and a pitcher for water is placed beside the threshold to refresh the pilgrim. There is generally a small cenotaph within, directed with the head to the west, the body beneath being supposed to lie on its right side facing Mecca. A few old mats sometimes cover the floor, and a plough, or other object of value, is often found stored inside the Mukâm, where it is quite safe from the most daring thief, as none would venture to incur the displeasure of the saint in whose shrine the property has thus been deposited on trust.

This Mukâm represents the real religion of the peasant. It is sacred as the place where some saint is supposed once to have “stood” (the name signifying “standing-place”), or else it is consecrated by some other connection with his history. It is the central point from which the influence of the saint is supposed to radiate, extending in the case of a powerful Sheikh to a distance of perhaps twenty miles all round. If propitious, the Sheikh bestows good luck, health, and general blessings on his worshippers; if enraged, he will inflict palpable blows, distraction of mind, or even death. If a man seems at all queer in his manner, his fellow-villagers will say, “Oh, the Sheikh has struck him!” and it is said that a peasant will rather confess a murder, taking his chance of escape, than forswear himself on the shrine of a reputed Sheikh, with the supposed certainty of being killed by spiritual agencies.

The cultus of the Mukâm is simple. There is always a guardian of the building; sometimes it is the civil Sheikh, or elder of the village, sometimes it is a Derwîsh, who lives near, but there is always some one to fill the water-pitcher, and to take care of the place. The greatest respect is shown to the chapel, where the invisible presence of the saint is supposed always to abide. The peasant removes his shoes before entering, and takes care not to tread on the threshold; he uses the formula, “Your leave, O blessed one,” as he approaches, and he avoids any action which might give offence to the numen of the place.