ARABS AT HOME
(Photo. The Photochrome Co. Ld.)
It is curious that the Arab should feel himself relieved from all obligation if he meet the stranger in the open; while if the latter can but touch the most distant peg or cord of the tent, he is absolutely safe. To provide for the security of his guest is a point of highest honour with the Arab; and his comfort is considered before anything else. He is made “master of the house” while he stays. The owner will not sit down unless the guest invites him; nor will he eat until the guest is satisfied. To eat under the same roof, or from the same dish, constitutes a bond of brotherhood. The host is responsible for the safety of his guest, as far as his authority or ability extends: the guest is bound in every way to consider the honour and credit of his host. The protection of the stranger may even anticipate his arrival at the tent. If in peril, he may take shelter under the name of some powerful sheikh. When he utters this name, it becomes the duty of all to assist him in reaching his protector’s dwelling. Any injury done to him is an outrage upon the man, who, thus invoked, becomes his patron and avenger. So in the name of the Lord are deliverance and safety found (Prov. xviii. 10, etc.). The guest may claim entertainment for three days and three nights. The host may require him to stay so long. If he stay beyond this period, the stranger may have to do some work—a provision, probably, against idlers and hangers-on. The guest may abide continually in the “house” of his host only by becoming identified with the family through marriage or adoption (Psalm xxiii. 6).
The guest is expected to show appreciation of the viands supplied in ways not open to one in polite society. In drinking coffee, for example, he should noisily draw it in with his breath, smack his lips, and declare its excellence. But he must offer no payment for his entertainment. This would be regarded as insult. The Arab eats not in the morning; the guest departs with a simple “good-bye.” He has had no more than his right; presently his host will enjoy the like kindness at his own or some other brother’s hand. The recognition of this obligation to the needy stranger must often have been the very condition of life to wanderers in waste lands.
A fuller discussion of many interesting usages connected with hospitality will be found in the writer’s article “Hospitality,” in Hastings’ Dictionary of the Bible, vol. ii. pp. 427 f.
Save among the pests that lurk in solitary places, ready to spring upon the lonely traveller unawares, to whom no life is sacred that stands between them and plunder, who seem to find a diabolical pleasure in the mere sight of blood, one need not greatly fear for his life in any encounter with the Beduw. They may take all he possesses, and even his clothes, wounding him if necessary to this end; but they do not willingly take life, leaving the disposal of this to Him who gave it.
Like the “bruisers” at home, the Arabs have a code of honour in regard to hostile encounters; but it refers not to the manner of the blow and the part where it falls. It has to do with the weapon. To strike a man with the fist, or with a blunt instrument of any kind, is to put a heavy insult upon him. On the other hand, to strike with a sharp weapon, or smite with the edge of the sword, may be criminal, but it involves no disgrace.
As between man and man, and tribe and tribe, the lex talionis is in full force. The tribe is not regarded as an aggregate, but as an organic unity, of which each man is a member, as the hand is of the body. If the hand do one an injury, satisfaction is found in punishment through the foot or any other member. Even so, if a tribesman inflict an injury on one of a neighbouring tribe, and the particular offender eludes the avenger, any member of his tribe may be taken in his place. Injury for injury, blood for blood, is the stern law. The offender’s tribe may confess that wrong has been done, and offer to compound with the injured for a sum of money. The amount in such cases is fixed in solemn conclave by delegates of the different tribes, and the value is represented by a number of camels or other animals. If these are accepted, the feud is at an end. But among the aristocracy of the Beduw, the nobler sort, such compounding for blood is esteemed dishonourable. Then the whole tribe, and the wider circle of those with whom they claim relationship, become a staunch confederacy for defence of the manslayer, and for mutual protection against the enemy. Thus the absence of “cities of refuge” is made good to the fugitive; the usages of hospitality come in to relieve the gloom of dark, relentless passion. For the manslayer, if he can but penetrate the tent and eat bread there, may claim sanctuary from the “avenger of blood” himself. Even the father, who thirsts to avenge the blood of a beloved son, will let him depart, and neither pursue nor permit him to be pursued until the space of two days and a night has passed.
The sheyûkh—“the chiefs” who administer justice among the Beduw—are renowned for their integrity and for the equity of their decisions. They scorn bribes. Stories are often told of the disputes of townsmen who, rather than appear before the corrupt courts of the land, where each must lose whoever wins, have submitted their case to arbitration by sheyûkh el-Beduw, in whose judgment both parties at once acquiesced. In cases where blows have been given, no progress can be made until a balance of injuries has been struck. Only when the least injured has suffered in person or in goods so as to equalise the injuries will the case be heard and adjudicated upon. The deliverance of the sheyûkh carries with it the moral weight of the whole tribe. He who disregards it practically passes on himself sentence of outlawry.
