The Holy Land and Syria

by Frank G. Carpenter

At the end of the Booksellers’ Bazaar looms the Dome of the Mosque, built amid the ruins of a Christian church, which was itself preceded on the same site by a Roman temple

Damascus is the heart of the Mohammedan world. At its back is Persia, altogether Mohammedan. At its south are Palestine and Arabia, more Moslem than Christian, while at the north are other realms of Islam. All around it the people are Mohammedans, who hate the Christians and massacre them whenever they can. This was the case in the spring of 1909, when thousands were killed and a terrible slaughter of Christians by heathens took place in this region. Multitudes were massacred, and it was only because the great Christian nations of Europe were afraid of their pocketbooks and of the loss of that balance of power which might result from a war that the Turkish Empire was not wiped out as a punishment therefor. The matter was hushed up, and but little of the true story was told in the papers. I refer to the bloodshed throughout Asia Minor when the sultan, Abdul Hamid, was overthrown by the Young Turks and his brother, Mohammed V, was put in his place.

Another strange object in the Great Mosque is the holy tent of the pilgrim caravan. This is used during the pilgrimage to Mecca, which generally starts at Damascus. Every Moslem is bound to make this pious journey at least once in his life, and the followers of the Prophet gather here from all directions for the trip to their holy city.

As they approach Mecca they take off their clothes, laying aside everything from the soles of their feet to the crowns of their heads. They then put on aprons, and carrying only a piece of cloth over the left shoulder, walk into the city. They march around the sacred Kaaba and kiss the black stone. They pelt Satan with rocks in the Valley of Mina, and end their pilgrimage with a great sacrificial feast, at the end of their Lent, when the festival of Beiram begins.

I have not seen these pilgrim caravans, but they are said to be extremely interesting. Many of the rich go on camel litters something like the mule litters used in north China. These are beds slung between poles which are fastened to camels, one going before and the other behind and trained to keep step. The camels are adorned for the occasion with coins, shells, and other ornaments, besides hundreds of small bells which jingle as they march. In advance of the procession is a large camel litter hung with green cloth and embroidered with gold. This contains the green flag of the Prophet and one of the oldest copies of the Koran now in existence. In addition to the worshippers themselves there is always an escort of soldiers and Bedouins. There are also many half-naked dervishes who sing and howl and cut themselves, shouting out texts from the Koran as they go on their way.

It is a question whether the railway from Damascus to Mecca will not cause this great caravan to become a thing of the past as far as the travel between Damascus and Mecca is concerned.

During my stay here I have gone out to the cemetery to see the tomb of Mohammed’s favourite daughter Fatima. Mohammed had several wives in addition to the four which he allows to each of his followers. His first wife was Khadija, the widow whose fortune made him prominent and whose servant he was. As I remember it, she was his first convert. Two of his other wives and Fatima are buried here, and every Thursday many veiled women come to mourn at their graves. Fatima’s tomb is a little domed mosque about fifteen feet square with a praying alcove facing toward Mecca. Her body lies in a marble sarcophagus, which stands on a pedestal covered with green velvet and with a piece of green cloth at its head. As I looked at the tomb I saw several rags tied to the bars of the window and was told that they were put there as the pledges of sick persons, showing that they would give money to the mosque if they should be cured.

The tomb of Saladin, the great Mohammedan general who fought Europe during the Crusades, is also in Damascus. It is in a small mausoleum attached to the Great Mosque. At the head of the marble sarcophagus is a glass case in which lies the golden wreath placed on Saladin’s tomb by the German Kaiser. Because this wreath had a cross worked into its design it gave deep offence to the Damascenes, who demanded its removal from the shrine. But the Kaiser’s “great and good friend,” Sultan Abdul Hamid, ordered it to remain, as it was placed there by the Emperor of Germany.

I have spent some time tracing the footsteps of St. Paul, the apostle. You will remember that he was one of the Jewish officials, and was “breathing out threatenings and slaughter against the disciples of the Lord” when he got the high priest to give him letters to the synagogues of Damascus, that he might bring such Christians as he found there to Jerusalem for trial. He was on his way here and was not far from the city when the light from heaven shone round him and blinded him, and the Lord said unto him:

I am Jesus whom thou persecutest; it is hard for thee to kick against the pricks.