STRANGE CITIES

Evening Post, Volume CIX, Issue 125, 30 May 1930, Page 3

STRANGE CITIES

QUAKERS OF ISLAM

GOLDEN AGE OF TO-DAY

TRAVELLER'S STORY

By Lady Drummond Hay. (Copyright.) I- liaveifound the Land of Rest. It is the Land of the "Quaker Sheiks," in the Sahara, where the Golden Age is no myth, but reality. Golden sands, golden sun, golden dates, golden oranges, simplicity of the Golden Age uncomplicated by newspapers or telephone. Undisturbed by radio, cinema, or theatre. Untroubled by beggars or police. Undismayed by the "modern girl" or antics of .. "flaming youth." I have found peace on earth even in this turbulent generation. ■ Tired to exhaustion after twelve months of strenuous travel, having averaged mort tha;i lift miles every day of the preceding 3G5 duys, which included the first Zeppelin Transatlantic flight, the round-the-world flight, voyages to China, Japan, Hawaii, extensive travel in America, Canada, and innumerable "trips"' (they hardly seem like full-size journeys any more) between the capitals of Europe, I sought rest. To me, rest spells isolation and peace. Both were waiting for me in the mysterious M'zab —that southern region of French Algeria, situated between the Atlas Plateau and the Grand Erg, where seven Holy Cities stand like sentinel pyramids against the desolation of the desert wastes. From the Riviera and its light-hearted hospitality, I fled to Algiers. From the cosmopolitan bustle of the "White City," farther south, past Blida and the Gerge of Monkeys—very real, very mischievous monkeys they are, too. Boghai'i to Djelfa, stronghold of the famous Ouled Nail tribe, one of the chief purveyors of the "Lure of the East" in North Africa. Ouled Nail beauties daricing in Arab cafes, spangled Algeria burnous, against the romantic background ■of burning sand,, verdant palms, and white arabesque houses, was still not the haven I sought. WITHIN THE DESERT. Southward yet, through hard desert, sure tut bumpy riding for the car, to Tilrempt, caravanserai halt on the route to Ghardaia. A flashing white quadrangle providing rough, but scrupulously clean .shelter, and the best meal I. had tasted since leaving Algiers. But curiosity about the "Quaker Sheiks" urged me on, and later, in that same afternoon, I had my firrt glimpse-of a M'zab city, Berriane, of 26,000 palm trees, rising like a pyramid surmounted by a great Sudan-type minaret, which is the characteristic formation of the seven M'zab cities in the Chebka. The Mozabites, heretical Berbers, known as the "Quakers' of Islam"—peareable, industrious, commercial, with qualities reminiscent of the Jews or Copts in Egypt— were for centuries victims of persecution' by other Moslems ; and warlike tribes. Denied peace' 1/ man, or even the right to live, in the eleventh century they threw themselves on the mercy of Nature at her cruellest, withdrawing to isolation, protected on every side by at least a hundred miles of barren desert and desolate waste. Such a rampart in the land of "camel-express" was .more effective than fortress walls, and has until to-day preserved the Mozabites as a people apart from the rest of the world. ■ > A STRANGE PEOPLE. • Seven cities, between 3000 and 4000 wells, over 200,000 date-palms, some 40,000 human population, local Government under French protection, without police, practically no crime, no beggars, no destitute, no women between the ages of fourteen or sixty allowed. out of their houses- -these facts testify to the characteristics of this strange people. The French military force in the M'zab consists' of a fort overlooking Ghardaia, garrisoned when I was there by a French captain,:-two adjutants, and thirty native soldiers —this to control the whole 40,000. .- • ' In Ghardaia I stayed at a Mozabite Hotel, kept by one Abdel Kadr ben Taher. Hospitality and welcome' compensated for any lack of luxury, and I am used to the standards and ways of native North Africa anyhow. Ghardaia, to the eye, a picturesque heap of stones and medley of tumbledown buildings, is a fascinating world of its own. There is "Mama Sliman," for instance. .An amazing woman of personality, responsible for the conduct of Mozabite femininity. She is a tolba of the mosque, elected to teach the women rites of prayer, to watch over their religious' lives, and, act as mother confessor in general. For all her.powers, official and otherwise, '.'Mama Sliman" does not come in contact with the men tolbas. Mozabite women are very strictly secluded, and I could not find any exceptions. I saw absolutely no young women on the streets all the time I was in tlje district, and for that matter very few old ones. Those I did see looked terribly worn, seared, and decrepit. The young prlchildren are often very pretty. They must be lovely in their prime. The women are virtually imprisoned from thirteen or fourteen until sixty. From the time she is veiled and begins to pray, a girl may not leave the house. By "leave the house it is.actually meant that she may not go outside the front door. A girl remains in her parent's house until she, is married, when she is transferred to her husband's house as a life-prisoner. IN ETERNAL GLOOM. Few houses in the seven M'zab cities have gardens or courtyards. ■ The majority are windowless, little slits serving to give light and air. In such lairs—one can-, not call them anything else —the women spend their lives, condemned to eternal gloom in these glorious oases of sunshine and beauty. Infrequently, with their husband's permission, they visit their own families under strict surveillance. But such outings are only taken under cover of night. No Mozabite woman is allowed to leave the M'zab. That is not a Moslem or French law, but one of the M'zab. For all that, the Mozabite -woman enjoys the rights' of the Moslem woman, which are not inconsiderable even compared to the legal status of women in certain western countries. Other rights as well she has. For instance, each girl when she marries acquires several trustees responsible for her well-being. ■ The cities of the M'zab are picturesque to a degree. When I was there the market places were ablaze with the gold of a rich date-harvest, the crimson of pomegranates, aubergines, with oranges and sweet lemons. But there is no need to go to the market to buy, dates or pomegranates. Both can be had for the picking. Custom sanctions the traveller to pick as many dates as he can eat on the spot, but none must be carried away. Pomegranates lie on the roadside fallen in their juicy ripeness from the trees. There are some "shops" in these cities stocked with necessities, such as tin teapots, candles, cloth, lamps, crockery, matches, and electric torches. A brisk trade is done in.old cast-off rubber motortires with which the cobblers skiK "ly sole shoes. Most of the people go 'I efoot or wear, sandals.' The children are pretty, but strangely ' apathetic, content to sit in imitation of their squatting elders rather than run about and play. Anything does for clothes for them,,an old sack or a ■tuft of rags. • The men look imposing, m their white burnous, often very beautifully embroidered in silk by the tailors. Mozabite women use antimony kohol thickly around their eyes, but when I scoured the various markets to find the ornamental little silver or brass kohol pots in use in the north, I discovered that they store this cosmetic in a hollow reed. The Jewish women in the Jewish quarter are not veiled. ."NIGHT LIFE." For all their Quakerishness these sheiks do .enjoy night life. One evening I was invited to a cafe to see the Ouled Nail dancers, not the kind of "Arab cafe" I found subsequently in Biskra or Tunis run for tourists, but a genuine resort of the desert. The entrance, off a side street, was low and small. A fair-sized whitewashed room crowded to the last inch with what one of the party aptly described as "Kings of Orient." Kings indeed they might have been, dignified, bearded, bright-eyed, many handsome, wearing gleaming white burnous under which one could glimpse fme silken embroiders. There they sat in

rows on rough benches, unsmiling, never moving a muscle as the girls came out, one by one, or two by two, to twist and turn, gyrate, and mime a bit, then retire. It was hardly dancing.

Three musicians played Arab musia while a coal-black master of ceremonies in striped burnous called out the girls by name to come forward and do their turn. The girls were dressed in simple white muslin dresses reaching down to the anklea with sleeves to the elbow or-wrist. A silver belt clasped each ample . waist. Heavy jewellery hung.arour^d then: necks, earrings flashed, bracelets tinkled on their arms. Rings stiffened their fingers. Anklets over stockings tapping against the straps of European shoes, a "pillbox" hat or tinsel turban, completed' this incon* gruous, if excessively chaste, costume.