The Cradle of Mankind; Life in Eastern Kurdistan

by W. A. Wigram; Edgar Thomas Ainger Wigram

So the water-seller ran to bear the message, and the porter took the chest and bore it to the bazaar.

And Achmet the salesman took the chest and set it on the bench before him, and he cried aloud, “O Moslems, I have for sale a chest—a chest and all that is in it. What will ye give me for the chest, and for the contents of the chest?”

And the merchants said, “What is in the chest?” And Achmet answered, “Nay that I know not, for none may know what is in it until that it is sold.” Then the merchants came together; and one said, “It is a good chest. I will give a toman[114] for it.” And another said, “I will give two tomans.” Then came to them the son of Haji Kas, breathless with much running, and he cried aloud unto the salesman, saying, “Oh, Achmet, sell me the chest for five tomans.” And a Jew merchant answered, “I will give six tomans”; and the Haji’s son said, “I will give thee twelve!”

Then the merchants spake one to another, saying, “Verily we know not what is in the chest; but behold the Haji’s son knoweth, and it seemeth that it is a thing of price. Of a surety it is smuggled tobacco from the warehouse of the Sheikh; or maybe hashish, and worth much gold.” And they that were aforetime backward were now eager to buy.

But though many bid for the chest, yet the Haji’s son bid higher, and Achmet the salesman sold him the chest for sixty tomans; and he wiped his brow, and paid the money and called a porter to bear the chest away.

But the porter who had brought the chest had stood by, listening to the bidding; and he laughed till his legs gave way beneath him, and he rolled on the ground in his mirth. And while the merchants wondered at him, he gat his breath, and sat up, and cried aloud, and said, “By Allah, O Moslems, was there ever seen the like? This man hath bought his own father for the price of sixty tomans. Haji Kas the Seyyid is in that great chest!”

And when the merchants heard that saying, they ran[{214}] upon the chest and brake it open; and Haji Kas sat up, and blinked at them therein. And all the merchants laughed till the bazaar rang with their laughter; and they held their sides, and the tears ran down their faces, and they rolled on the ground whooping, even as the porter had done.

Then Haji Kas arose, and gat him out of the chest; and he and his son slank away in shame together. And it came to pass after a few days, that he sold his house, and all that appertained to him in that city, and departed into another country, and returned to Urmi no more.

Governors in the old days did not often lift their hands against the Seyyids; the experience of those who tried to do so, teaching them wisdom. Twice the effort was made; but in each instance the privileged corporation that had religious sentiment behind it was able to win. Once the Vali-Ahd[115] had tried to meet the undoubted difficulty caused by the fact that no governor could keep the Kurdish raiders in order, by making the biggest brigand of the countryside Governor of Urmi province; on the same principle as a certain King of England once made The O’Neill Viceroy of Ireland. The Governor, Hassan Beg of the Marku Kurds, was at least commendably energetic; and being, like all Kurds, a Sunni, he despised all Shiahs equally, whether they were Seyyids or not. He began operations by blowing a batch of them from guns—a fate which they probably richly deserved, but which roused much scandal, for no amount of hereditary sanctity will get you to Heaven in little bits! But presently one such victim escaped. He bribed the artillery-men; and they put him with his arm round the gun’s muzzle, instead of with his back to it. (The execution took place in the midst of a big parade-ground, so that the fraud was not too conspicuous.) Bang went the gun: but the holy man stood unharmed. Up went the cry, “A miracle! a miracle!” and the mob immediately assaulted the governor’s house. He had taken the precaution of bringing a garrison of his[{215}] own tribesmen with him to his new post, so the attack failed; but he thought it more prudent to leave the city that night and go home. His tenure of the governorship of Urmi had been brief; but like the kingship of Roumania was “always a pleasant reminiscence.”

In the year 1902 another governor, one Mejid-es-Sultaneh, also attempted reform. He proposed to clean the streets and have a pure water-supply; a scheme which was admirable as far as it went, though an American missionary in the town did suggest that “his Excellency had better make the streets before he scrapes them.” Another aspiration of his, expressed in the words that there would never be any real reform in Persia, “till one can see a Seyyid hanging on every tree round Urmi,” was also a perfectly sound one; but unfortunately he lacked the power to execute his admirable ideas. Thus, when Mohurram came round, friction began. By immemorial custom a deputation of Seyyids waits on the governor at that feast; for then (like the Jews of old) they have the right to demand that he “release unto them one prisoner, whomsoever they will.” Mejid-es-Sultaneh was willing enough to honour custom, but had let the college of Seyyids know, unofficially, that there was one man whom they were not to ask for. It had cost some trouble to get him into the jail, and he was to hang. They accepted at once this challenge to a trial of strength, and demanded that man and no other. The governor had the whole deputation thrashed and turned out of his house; sending orders to the prison to hang the man without more ado.