Tent Work in Palestine: A Record of Discovery and Adventure

by C. R. Conder

The olive crop seems to require but little attention from the peasants; the land is ploughed twice or thrice each year, but the trees are neither manured nor pruned, and hence they only bear the full crop every other year. In October the fruit is ripe, and the trees are beaten with long poles, or shaken—much to their injury, and the fallen fruit is gleaned. It is said that the plague of locusts has more than once proved a subsequent blessing, because the olive-trees were eaten down and thus pruned, and yielded a plentiful harvest in the following year. The oil is pressed in two kinds of mills; one called M’aserah, from its “squeezing;” the other Matrûf, with a cylinder of stone placed vertically in a cylindrical stone case, and revolving in it, iron bars being fitted like spokes into the cylinder.

The olive grows slowly, and there is no doubt that many of the trees round Shechem and Gaza are of great age. At Gaza the natives say that not a single olive-tree has been planted since the Moslem conquest of the land; and indeed, traditionally, they refer the oldest of the trees in the great avenue to the time of Alexander the Great. The name Rûmi, or “Greek,” sometimes applied to the olives, appears to be connected with this tradition. It seems possible that the first statement, that olives have not been planted at Gaza since the Moslem conquest, may be true, for the tree rarely dies, but when the trunk decays, fresh stems spring from the roots, and a group of olives takes the place of a single tree. The old olives are surrounded by an army of suckers (the “olive branches” of Scripture—Ps. cxxviii. 3), and these, as the parent stem decays, grow strong and tall in its room, so that the grove perpetuates itself without any trouble on the part of the owners.

The olive-tree is the glory of Palestine, and one of the chief sources of wealth to the peasantry; the cool and grateful shade endears it to the traveller, and many a time have our tents been protected in stormy weather by the broad boles. The shade of the fig-tree is considered unhealthy by the Syrians, as producing ophthalmia, but that of the olive is a favourite shelter.

The pastoral employments of the Fellahin occupy a good part of their attention; the young men, as in Jacob’s time, are the shepherds and cowherds, and are often found far from home. In spring the rich pastures of the plains and of the Jordan Valley attract the flocks, which are driven down to temporary settlements known as ’Azbât. An arrangement is sometimes made with a Bedawîn tribe to protect the flocks, and in other parts there are lands in the desert recognised as belonging to the villagers. The sheepcotes along the edge of the Judean desert are generally caves (1 Sam. xxiv. 3), and in these the boys sleep with their charges at night, especially during the lambing season, which occurs early in spring.

The diminutive size of the oxen is striking, and the dry climate seems to dwarf most of the domestic animals, sheep, goats, and horses being all small. There are several breeds of goats; one (the mohair goat) long-haired and white, with enormous horns, is seen rarely; the other is the ordinary black or piebald breed, with shorter hair. The sheep are less numerous, and are generally driven with the goats. In the plains, however, they are better able to find food; and in Philistia especially, the fat-tailed Syrian breed affords excellent mutton. The way of fattening sheep for a feast is curious. A child will sit with its arm round the animal’s neck and feed it with mulberry leaves from a bag, almost pushing them down its throat. The name given to the fatted sheep is Kharûf.

Scarcely less important to the villagers than the flocks are the camels, which supply the place of carts and waggons. These animals give but little trouble, as they pick up any thorny shrub for food. In spring they are clipped, and covered with tar and oil, as a protection against insects. Their black appearance, after the tarring, is ludicrous, and their odour is then even more offensive than usual.

Such, slightly sketched, are the occupations and daily pursuits of the Fellahîn. It is almost unnecessary to point out how every act of their lives, not less than every word of their mouths, contains some echo of the old Bible times. Their peculiar habits are handed down from so remote a period that they themselves—being accustomed, with the ordinary conservatism of Orientals, to tread, without a thought of change, in their fathers’ steps, have forgotten the origin of many of their customs. They can only say: “It is from ancient times;” “It always was done so;” “Our fathers did thus.” And as in their worship so in everything else, they repeat mechanically the actions of their predecessors.

Their ordinary expressions are so like those used in the Bible, that one seems to step back out of the present century to the days of Abraham, when living in the more remote villages, far away from hotels and dragomans. “As the Lord liveth” is still a common oath, and the villagers address the stranger as “my father,” or “my brother,” and salute him with the words, “Peace be unto thee.”

It is easy to look alone on either the dark or the bright side of the peasant character; the lights and shades are strongly marked, and a partial experience would probably lead to a one-sided estimate, according to the temperament of the observer; but the truth seems to be, that a people with naturally fine qualities have been degraded, and entirely ruined, by an unjust and incapable government.

The whole of Southern Syria is under the Wâly of Damascus, and Palestine is under the Mutaserifs of Acre and Jerusalem, who are appointed by that Wâly. These provinces are again subdivided, and Kaimakâms or lieutenant-governors, are placed in such towns as Jaffa, Ramleh, Jenin, etc. The change of the Wâly generally results in the entire change of all these various authorities, and the Wâly used to be replaced perhaps once in six months, perhaps oftener. Thus even if a capable and just man were appointed, he had no time to carry out any plans he might form, and his successor probably reversed everything that he had done. The stipends paid were also so inadequate, that it was impossible for any of the governors, or sub-governors, to live on them alone. The consequence almost invariably was that the governor “eat,” as the peasantry call it; sometimes he eat little, sometimes much; but there is only one man—Midhat Pacha—against whom one never heard this accusation made. The rulers had no interest in the prosperity of the country, or in improving the condition of those they ruled; their only idea was to enrich themselves, and to lay up for that rainy day which must come when the Wâly was changed, unless they could induce his successor to keep them in their posts.