Then there is the question of marriage. In most cases the authorities do not encourage, or rather do not allow, men to marry. They very reasonably consider that married men are unsuitable for desert work; they either leave their wives in Egypt, and worry about them, which is not surprising, or they manage to “wangle” a permission out of the powers that be and take their wives out to the desert. Then, of course, a married man is stationed in a pleasanter place than one who has no wife. It is a difficult problem, and in most cases results in men wasting the prime of their life in a bachelor condition on the desert.
But one was kept fairly busily employed at Siwa. A considerable part of the work consisted in judging cases, similar to the duties of a magistrate at home (this, to my mind, was the most interesting part of the routine); also there was a section of Camel Corps to keep in training, and the local police. I went out on patrol for a few days every month, but after once exploring the whole neighbourhood these “treks” were not exciting. Most of the law cases were not of great interest; they consisted mainly of petty thefts, assaults and infringement of Government regulations. Divorce and questions of inheritance were not supposed to be dealt with by me, as they came before a special Mohammedan court, whose representative, an old kadi, went on circuit every year, though he always avoided Siwa, owing to the tedious journey and the huge file of cases that were waiting for his decision. The Siwans knew almost to the penny how much they would have to give him for a favourable decision on any case.
Sometimes, however, I did get curious cases, and the following one illustrates the social conditions in the town.
A young Siwan woman called Booba, about fifteen years old, after a series of very varied matrimonial experiences, married an Arab who was settled in the town. Although she had been married many times she was considered a very respectable person and related to one of the leading sheikhs. Divorce is considered no disgrace, and a divorced woman does not lose caste as in other parts of the country. Very soon the Arab husband died. This occurred in January, by the end of March she had married again; this time her husband was a Siwan merchant. He quickly grew tired of her and divorced her after a month of married life, but he treated her well and paid the residue of her marriage money to her brother who was her nearest male relation. She returned to her brother’s family, who were by no means pleased to see her. Being an exceptionally good-looking girl she was courted again by another man, the young son of a sheikh, who was considered rather a “catch.” He married her in June, and very soon after she gave birth to a child. As the child was a girl, the husband divorced her two days after its birth. The wretched woman was turned out of the house in the night by her late mother-in-law. She managed to get to her own home, but her brother’s wife refused to let her in. The brother himself was away. Eventually she found a lodging with an old woman, a relative of one of the earlier husbands, who had, it seemed, some liking for the girl. While staying here the child died—possibly from exposure, possibly from other reasons.
Immediately the families of the last three husbands hurried to give information against her, and charged her with murdering the child. The doctor examined it and found signs of possible suffocation. I listened for several days to the evidence of a number of witnesses, mostly repulsive old women who enlarged with horrid keenness on the most disagreeable details. But eventually nothing was proved, and the girl was acquitted. It was a disagreeable case, but one could almost find parallels to it in the English police-court news.
Female witnesses at Siwa were very difficult to manage. They never spoke or understood any Arabic, so the six sheikhs, who acted as a jury, interpreted for them. I used to sit on a platform at one end of the room, and the six sheikhs occupied a bench along one side. Women pretended to hate coming into the court-house, but I think they really rather enjoyed it. The orderly, one of the police, would firmly propel the lady into the middle of the room, she being completely covered from head to foot with clothes. As soon as the orderly retired she sidled over to the wall and propped herself against it, generally with her back turned on me. The sheikhs would remonstrate, “For shame, turn round Ayesha, daughter of Osman, and speak to the noble officer.” The lady would wriggle round a little and allow one eye to appear through the drapery. When questioned she mumbled inaudible replies, growing slightly more coherent if she was personally concerned in the case, but if there was another woman giving evidence she would gradually lower her veils, speak louder, and finally show her whole face as she shrieked abuse at her opponent—quite regardless of the eyes of the court. The sheikhs were invaluable on these occasions; it would have been very difficult to work without them.
One woman, who sued her neighbour for throwing stones at her hens, disturbed the court considerably. When she was led in by the policeman she appeared particularly cumbered with clothes. Suddenly a terrific disturbance began among her shawls and draperies; she gave a shrill squeal and two hens disentangled themselves from her clothes and dashed madly round the court-house. Two of my dogs, who were lying at my feet, sprang after the birds and chased them round the room, which plunged the proceedings into the wildest confusion. The woman had carried in the hens intending to confront her opponent, at the critical moment, with the injured victims. Judging from their activity they had not been much injured.
One man, Bashu Habun, son of the old sheikh who was hanged, caused more legal work than the whole of the rest of the population together. He spent his time appropriating the property of one of his brothers who was in prison. The brother had an agent in Siwa, a foolish old sheikh called Soud, who was too honest, or stupid, to withstand the sly cleverness of Bashu Habun. At one time there were seven cases between them, involving many hundreds of pounds. I settled the first three, but found that the latter dealt with inheritance, and so were beyond my jurisdiction, but I got heartily sick of the sharp, foxy face of Bashu Habun and the noisy, foolish obstinacy of old Sheikh Soud. Both of them tried to secure my support by sending donkey-loads of fruit to my house before the cases were tried, and on one occasion the servants met both bringing presents, and returned together with their offerings to the town. The idea of “baksheesh” is so firmly planted in the native mind that it takes a long while to die out. Still, one finds that the natives really appreciate and prefer an impartial administration of justice, in place of justice—of sorts—which depends on which of the two parties can offer the highest bribe to the judge. The Senussi were by no means above this method, but they let political considerations weigh equally with “baksheesh” on their scale of justice. In the days when a Turkish governor ruled in Siwa he made his money by accepting and extorting bribes, and if, when British Administration retires from Egypt, the oasis is ruled again by a native mamur, the same system will possibly flourish.
IN THE WESTERN QUARTER