Welcome to Syria

Syria April, 2008

I am returned from a very un-solo trip to Syria, a country labeled a 'state sponsor of terror' by the US  administration. It did not feel like that as we walked unmolested late at night through the streets of Damascus, or met with scores of teenage girls in Maloula, mingled with thousands of schoolchildren in Bosra, went shopping in Palmyra and had a private visit of the citadel in Aleppo.  Just for good measure we met with Dr. Mohammed Habash, a member of the Syrian parliament and General Director of the Islamic Studies Center in Damascus http://altajdeed.org/en/.

He gave us a very frank talk touching on subjects as diverse as the US invasion of Iraq, the historic link with and involvement of Syria in Lebanon,  reformist and conservative Islam, the evolution of the Shia/Sunni divide and the ongoing Palestinian-Israeli crisis with its attendant rise in militant extremism there and elsewhere.   

We began our tour of the country by driving north. Krak des Chevaliers - supreme expression of medieval castle-building - had a moat again, the first time I have ever seen it.

Reflected blue moat of Krak des Chevaliers abutting its infamous steep glacis.

Hama sits on the banks of the river Orontes; at dusk swallows flitted and darted in and out of the city's ancient eaves, and its waterwheels glowed amber in the floodlights, while in the morning a barrage of twittering avian exuberance filled the yellow limestone and black basalt paved courtyard of the hauntingly lovely Azem Palace – smaller but more refined than its sister palace in Damascus. 

The waterwheels or norias at night.

The highly-decorated windows of Azem Palace in Hama.

 

Houda Al-Ajlani, MP

Damascus, Syria

“We have a great deal to offer each other - why do we spend time discussing only our differences?” so said Houda Alajlani when I met her, speaking of the current chilly US stance towards Syria. We had met through Diana Jabbour, I had asked if I might call her to talk about her work. Houda is a member of the Syrian Parliament and she very kindly invited me to her home where we talked about Syria and its regional and international role, how the ongoing regional problems impact each individual country, and her role as a politician.

She is an electrical engineer by training, the only female graduate in her class, and I was curious to know how and why she had gotten into politics. As a child, she explained, she had always been interested in the news, and from a very young age she was reading newspapers while her friends were reading teen magazines. "Even then I was interested in knowing what was going on - you don’t really choose politics, it’s inside you and it chooses you” she told me.

Her family though not in politics was politically aware, her father was a clothing manufacturer which is where the electrical engineering bit came in. As a child she would visit the plant, fascinated by the machines and how they worked. She believes that her ability in the field of engineering had helped her in politics in that, "you have to be precise and use exact terms and words. When I give a speech I use the only words I need, and logic to carry the point." However she also thinks that regardless of this quality, in general women bring a different perspective to politics and this broadens outlook, stressing that as far as she is concerned there should be no such thing as a gender-specific job saying, “the only thing that counts is ability to do the job”.

Mt. Qassioun and the cave of Blood

Damascus, Syria

So here I am back in Syria. When Ibn Battuta traveled he consolidated several journeys into one trip - I am not so much consolidating, as engaging in obligatory backtracking. When I left Israel and Palestine I flew to Jordan then drove to Syria. I am now on the last day of my search of the obscure and obsurer.

“Qasiyun is a mountain on the north side of Damascus - al-Salihiya lies at its foot - celebrated for its blessedness, being the place of ascent of the Prophets (on them be peace.) Among its holy sanctuaries is the cave in which was born Ibrahim al-Khalil (On him be peace.) It is a long and narrow cave over which has been built a mosque with a tall minaret. It was from that cave that he saw the star, the moon and the sun as is related in the Exalted Book.”

The indefatigable Khaled and I set off. We climbed Mt. Qassioun twice. Or to be more accurate, we drove half way. I still have no idea how this was in fact accomplished. The narrow streets of Mt. Qassioun make those of the perched villages in the south of France seem like wide boulevards, they wind around improbable angles and cling to the curve of the hill on faith alone. Miraculously traffic moves in both directions, jaw-dropping disbelief has obliterated from my mind how. When we reached as far as we could go, I got out to visit one of the caves on the list. I had no idea which one it was as the names have changed and not even Iranians pilgrims visit here. I went inside, the key being held by a woman living nearby who had spotted me toiling up the hill. She came with me, but when I asked her if this was one of the caves mentioned by Ibn Battuta, she told me it had something to do with Fatima, but I could not quite figure out what. Even when Khaled joined us, panting and gasping from the steep walk, he could not determine from what she said which cave this represented in Ibn Battuta’s pantheon of caves. It was not particularly interesting to me and the only thing that interested her was that I give the baksheesh to her only and not to another woman who had silently appeared behind me. This she conveyed by a series of nods, silent mouthing, raised eyebrows and much eyeball darting to the left - it was quite comedic.

A view of Damascus from Mt. Qassioun.

The Old Pilgrim Route from Damascus

Damascus to Bosra, Syria

I have been using the same internet cafe the whole time I have been in Damascus because they serve tea and I can plug in my laptop and get a signal...... It is not always possible to get my laptop connected in some internet cafes and I am not sure why. In such places people always want to change things on the computer but when they see it is a Mac they mercifully leave it alone. And so I trundle off to the same place where we are now on first-name terms.

Of late, every afternoon a man comes in talking a million miles a minute in some unintellligible tongue (to me) and every day the crescendo rises until he is positively roaring down the line. I am sure there is a reason but it is very disconcerting. I am told he is talking to his wife. In my mind, he has come to epitomise the world's economic migrants; a million miles from home with the phone as their only link, they hear over broken connections and distorted lines about events and happenings over which they have no control but for which pay - sending money every month to the home they have left behind. There is something infinitely solitary and sad about it.........

And so back to the safety of the 16th century, long after Ibn Battuta had trod the earth. The Tekke Mosque was where the pilgrims gathered to start the journey south to Mecca. The mosque was built by the foremost of Suleiman the Magnificent’s architects, the incomparable Sinan.

Signature pencil minarets of Sinan.

Today the mosque sits in a park that includes workshops and handicraft stores. The pilgrim caravan was an occasion for trading, and goods were bought for trade or barter which is how some pilgrims financed the long and costly venture. However I digress, in Ibn B’ s day the gathering of the pilgrim caravan was the open area near the Bab Saghrir which is now a parking lot for Iranian buses disgorging incoming pilgrims rather than outgoing......

Damascus Esoterica

Damascus, Syria.

Back on the trail of the now truly obscure - even the Ministry of Awqaf (Islamic Endowments) had no idea where the last of Ibn Battuta’s ‘list of the late illustrious’ were to be found - I am finding out that some have moved...... is this something peculiar to denizens of Syria’s cemeteries? “Oh, yes, he moved - he’s not here now,” I have been told on more than one occasion. Quite why they have moved remains a complete mystery.....did someone else want their spot?

In an area between the Old City and Ath-Thawra street called Sarouja, is the Najmiya madrasa which was not in fact a madrasa but a convent. Ibn Battuta mentions it as one of the many in the city,

“The Hanbalites have many colleges, the largest of them being the Najmiya college.”

Now it is a small mosque with two large, dusky pink-domed, white-washed tombs in the corner, but that day we could not find anyone who knew who they were - perhaps they house some of my ‘lost’ cemetery occupants.

The little Najmiya Mosque now almost lost in a busy intersection of the city.

One Step of the Minbar and the Silk skullcap; The Battle of the Qadis

Damascus, Syria

One of the first things you learn about medival Islam is that the four schools of Sunni Islam mattered much more then than they do today. Ibn B as a North African was Maliki which is austere, but not quite as austere as Hanbali. Shafi, which was the main school in Damascus at the time, and Hanafi schools are more ‘liberal’. Ibn Battuta often relates amusing tales of disputes between various qadis - perhaps because he became one himself. Here he relates a story about the famous Islamic theologian, Taqi ad-Din Taimiya, who was frequently imprisoned by the authorities for his conduct and pronouncements.

“There was living in Damascus a certain Taqi ad-Din Taimiya, one of the principal Hanbalite doctors there, a man greatly esteemed and able to discourse on various sciences, but with some kink in his brain.”

It starts well, don’t you think?

Carolyn McIntyre; Tomb searcher

Damascus, Syria

It is not always easy searching for 14th century graves in a city like Damascus which has mushroomed in recent years, but one Friday morning Khaled and I set out to pay our respects to those whom Ibn Battuta deemed worthy of mention, almost 700 years ago. We began in the east part of the city,

“In the village called al-Maniha to the east and at a distance of four miles from Damascus, is the grave of Sa’ad ibn Obada. Over the grave there is a small and nicely built mosque and at its head is a stone with this inscription: ‘This is the grave of Sa’ad ibn Obada, chief of the Khazraj and Companion of the Apostle of God, bless and give him peace.’

His story is a curious one; he was indeed elected chief of the Khazraj tribe after the death of the Prophet Mohammed, but the decision was voided by the election of the first Caliph, Abu Bakr. Ibn Obada refused allegiance to Abu Bakr and was exiled to Syria where he died in 636. Legend however says he was killed by the jinn......
A new, large (and rather unattractive) mosque is now built over his tomb.

“In a village to the south of town and a league distant from it is the tomb of Umm Kulthum, daughter of Ali ibn Abu Talib by Fatima. It is said that her name is Zainab......the people of Damascus call it the grave of the Sitt Umm Kulthum.”

Not anymore, it is now known as Sayyida Zainab and you cannot miss it. The Iranians have built an enormous shrine in her honor in their style; gold dome, blue tile, calligraphy, and inside, lots of mirrored glass. I was once chased out of this shrine by a furious official and I am still not sure why.

Queen of the Desert

Palmyra, Syria

“Have a nice life” said Mohammed, all of about 7 years old, as I left Palmyra’s famous Victory arch. I had bought some awful postcards from him, but the kids are not begging and tourists are thin on the ground these days, so you pay a few pennies for some postcards.
He was still in place the following day and waved as I drove by.

Wandering through the ruins I met an Australian couple who had been on a mammoth eight-month tour of Europe. They said each time they had seen some amazing site they thought there could be nothing else but then had found themselves in Palmyra, where they were once again in awe. Unlike the principal European cities where gizillions of tourists make entry into sites a waiting game, we had the ruins of Palmyra to ourselves. People are simply afraid to come to Syria. This view is often promulgated by people who have never set foot in the country, (but which does not prevent them from freely offering their erroneous opinions), and politics. It is the lament of the Middle East in general and of Syria in particular. But the region has absorbed and defied wave after wave of conquerors for millennia and the current wave of regional troubles will in time be consigned to a historical footnote too. Seen through this prism one wonders what will endure of our most recent efforts - will we leave ‘democracy’ instead of temples, or will we go down in history as destroyers, like the Mongols?

Palmyra - an over-view.

The Euphrates Valley

Aleppo and the Euphrates, Syria

Standing at the 10th century Qinnesrin Gate, one of the most beautiful and intact of Aleppo, I was listening to an old blind man who was being teased by passing schoolboys, roar at them hoping they’d fail every exam in the coming term, when a young and very earnest-looking woman approached me. She was dressed from head to foot in black; long black coat and black hijab. I did not understand what she wanted as she pulled out a book from her bag and showed me pages of Arabic script - it transpired that she wanted me to know that just because she and other Syrian women might wear hijab and dress traditionally, it did not mean they were uneducated. The book she was showing me was her poetry and she had a good and well-paying job in a government ministry. I found her gesture touching but at the same time a bit sad that she felt the need to set me straight as it were, knowing the reputation among ‘Western’ women of Islamic women who wear hijab.

The Euphrates Valley

Aleppo and the Euphrates, Syria

Standing at the 10th century Qinnesrin Gate, one of the most beautiful and intact of Aleppo, I was listening to an old blind man who was being teased by passing schoolboys, roar at them hoping they’d fail every exam in the coming term, when a young and very earnest-looking woman approached me. She was dressed from head to foot in black; long black coat and black hijab. I did not understand what she wanted as she pulled out a book from her bag and showed me pages of Arabic script - it transpired that she wanted me to know that just because she and other Syrian women might wear hijab and dress traditionally, it did not mean they were uneducated. The book she was showing me was her poetry and she had a good and well-paying job in a government ministry. I found her gesture touching but at the same time a bit sad that she felt the need to set me straight as it were, knowing the reputation among ‘Western’ women of Islamic women who wear hijab.

The Citadel

Aleppo, Syria

In cities all over Syria flocks of pigeons swoop and flutter in the skies.  It is a passionate hobby for those who have taken it up, but pigeon fanciers are a strange breed. In cities pigeons were always kept in cages on the roofs, but as rooftops were traditionally the domain of women, pigeon fanciers were always viewed with suspicion and disdain by most people who thought they were little more than opportunistic voyeurs. Their reputation was so louche that for years they were not allowed to testify in court as their word was not to be trusted AND they were reputed to smoke hashish...... 

The Day of the Dead

I left my prescription sunglasses when I set out on the last leg of my trip and had to get another pair in Cairo. I did not have a lot of time and like most things done in haste compromises had to be made. I had to choose a certain shape and style of sunglasses that I would not otherwise have bought and when I put the glasses on with their new lenses I felt they were weird but could not quite say why. Things were not helped by the fact that I was wearing brand new shoes with a whole new philosophy on walking. The soles are not flat but curved, making you ‘roll’ when you walk instead of planting one flat foot on the ground after the other.  They take a bit of getting used to but are very comfortable and are supposed to help or prevent joint problems.

I left Cairo the next day - definitely rolling. The problem was that far from fluidity in motion, my rolling was accompanied by much stumbling. I kept looking down at my feet to see why - Cairene sidewalks may not be the smoothest on the planet but what was I falling over? It took me another day to figure it out. As long as I looked straight ahead the sunglasses were fine but as soon as I looked down, up or to the side the curvature of the lens was way off - I first realized this when on looking down at my feet I was pleasantly surprised to see them appear so small and dainty. Closer inspection without the sunglasses revealed that the ‘rolling’ shoes while comfortable could not remotely be called dainty and my feet were the same size as before. It is as well I figured out this potentially dangerous lens curvature before I set off on one of my solitary ruins inspections. Clambering over some broken-down walls one day before jumping off what looked to be a low wall, I looked again without my glasses - fortunately as it turns out since the real jump was considerably higher than it had seemed......

Castles of the Assassins

Hama to Safita, Syria

My driver/guide Khaled Alloush is a rare gem. He speaks excellent English, does everything he can to make sure I see everything on my list - which is not easy - and more importantly he is also very humorous. He likes Arabic coffee, barely drinks water and can go for hours without eating, but when he does he likes to eat well so he knows all the best places. This pretty much sums up my traveling style so we get along like a house on fire. I long ago discovered that when you are going to be spending entire days together on the road - getting along with your companion whoever he or she is, is imperative to the success of the venture. Anyone wishing to travel independently in Syria can contact him at +963 93567229. (Maximum 6 persons.)

And so today we set off for the ‘Castles of the Assassins’. Khaled has only visited two of them and the rest are remote, so this promises to be interesting.....The Assassins who were Ismaili Muslims, and who formed a dissident Fatimid (Shi’ite) sect among the Sunni orthodoxy, originated in northern Persia in 1090. The English word ‘assassin’ derives from the Arabic “hashasheen” meaning ‘those who eat grass’, because legend has the adherents being drugged then being led to a garden and subsequent visions of paradise, before being sent off on their missions to kill specific targets.

Justinian forts, Insurrection and The Petticoat

Hama to Latakia, Syria

“[Hama is] one of the dignified metropolitan centers and elegant cities of Syria.....surrounded by orchards and gardens supplied by water-wheels like revolving spheres”

Ibn Battuta.

Hama waterwheel at night

I visited what is left of the old city. The norias or water-wheels are still there but during my visit they were silent. I last visited Hama in November 1997 and then they still ran, creaking and groaning with their watery load. Now the river Orontes which flows through the town is reduced to a stagnant stream and is not enough to turn the ancient wheels. It is not just the weather or the season, it is the dams and the water used for irrigation - lack of water, now becoming a worldwide problem. I visited the Geat Mosque recently re-built after having been demolished in the Hama uprising of 1982. Hama is a religiously conservative town and always has been. One visible indicator; despite the presence of Christians and churches (as there are everywhere in the country), the majority of women wear headscarves and long black garments in contrast to the rest of the country. Indeed many of them are fully veiled. The Muslim Brotherhood challenged the government of Hafez Assad in 1982 in an uprising which met with a swift and brutal response. Estimates vary wildly as to the number of dead - anywhere between 10,000-25,000, with whole sections of the town being flattened by military tanks and artillery fire. Syria is a determinedly secular country - mosques and churches sit side by side and although the Christian population numbers only about 10%, religious intolerance which surfaces from time to time in Egypt for example, seems not to exist here, at least not openly.

The 13th century mosque of Abu al-Fida.

Another Middle East Crisis

Damascus, Syria

Readers of this blog will know that I generally steer clear of writing about politics on my trip because that is normally all you get from the Middle East. However there are times when to ignore it would be both futile and pollyannish; one thing obvious as I tramp over mounds of ruins of yet another of the myriad fallen civilizations in this part of the world, is that politics over millennia IS the Middle East and the 21st century is no different.

I have been in Syria for three weeks and it has been an interesting time politically. People are talking about Syria and Iran finally getting involved in trying to help the United States get out of its self-inflicted quagmire in Iraq, and after a visit by Syrian foreign minister to Iraq, the two countries have decided to re-open diplomatic relations for the first time since 1982. This alone is fairly exciting stuff. But there is more - Iran invited both the Syrian and Iraqi leaders to a meeting in Iran this weekend to discuss the Iraqi situation. (The Iraqi leader cannot go now as the airport is closed due to the complete disintegration of security in Baghdad.) It is by now irrelevant if the situation in Iraq is called ‘civil war’ or not - with October the bloodiest month in terms of Iraqi deaths since the US-led invasion, and the death of over 200 people in Sadr City a couple of days ago, what difference does it make to Iraqis what we call it?

The Castle of the Kurds & A Ghostly Colonnade

Damascus to Hama, Syria.

I had an interesting conversation with a waiter at le Jardin restaurant in Hama. Everyone likes to practise their English and being naturally friendly they grab every chance they get to speak to foreigners. So we spoke about the lack of tourists and how life was harder because of it, and how he used to write poetry but now he had no leisure time because he had to work harder to support his family. Eventually he got round to the fact that a good friend of his was living in Wales, married to a Welsh girl. She had come to Syria on a visit and had been drinking rather a lot of vodka one evening whereupon she confessed to having slept with 17 men in her life - not all at one time he hastened to assure me - but she told him this was entirely normal. He wanted to know if this was true - the fact that Western women could possibly sleep with 17 men had clearly been on his mind for some time and could I either dispel or confirm her story.........

The Ummayad Mosque

Damascus, Syria.
This post is devoted to The Ummayad Mosque. Not only is it the fourth holiest Islamic site for many Muslims but Ibn Battuta (deservedly) spends ten pages of his book describing its marvels.

“This is the greatest Mosque on earth in point of magnificence, the most perfect in architecture and the most exquisite in beauty, grace and consummate achievement; no rival is known, no equal to it is in existence.”

Remarkably, given war, fire and earthquake, the building today is quite similar to what he would have seen in 1326.

An Earthly Paradise

Damascus, Syria.
Ibn Battuta made several journeys through Palestine, Israel, Jordan, Syria and Lebanon but in his ‘rihla’ or journey, he writes as if he visited most of it at one time. His timing is impossible according to his own record; he left Cairo circa July 18, 1326 and arrived in Damascus August 7, 1326 a time frame which suggests he must have gone straight there instead of ‘gallivanting’ around the Levant as he suggests. But whatever he did his route does not make sense and he zigzags all over in a way that is not even possible today. And so I too had to zigzag - not because I was condensing as he did, but because of 21st century politics.

I drove to Damascus in Syria from Amman, a journey of only three and a half hours including border time. Both Jordanian and Syrian immigration and customs are easy to navigate although in the case of Syria, if you have an Israeli stamp in your passport you will be denied entry.