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THE PERENNIAL ARAB
• By B. T. NORRIS (Peterhouse, Cambridge)
THE Middle East has a special fascination for a certain cast of mind. It has a wideness of scope both in its geographical horizons and the complexity of its cultures and political problems. Viewed objectively from a college room, or for that matter from an office in Whitehall, its whole area can be confined within a collected assortment of newspaper cuttings or the sides of a page of an atlas. It has a vague aspect, its dimensions vary with the whims of the beholder and the multitude of its inhabitants are caught up in sweep- ing nomenclatures or in population statistics. The Middle East viewed from a Basra bazaar is different, it becomes overbearing and seems confined within the bounds of a district official's beat, a missionary's parish, an administrator's office or a commission's head- quarters. Many of us who travelled in the region when in the Services formed impressions which remained with us. Some perhaps were superficial, others vague, many sweeping but at the same time worthy of attention and consideration. Because we were still young our views were constantly changing, and we realised we were in a world of change when one day a twisted mountain road might echo to the sound of a shepherd's bells to be followed the next day by a rumble of tanks. Impressions of Palestine and the Middle East convinced many' ell us that a reorientation of approach by the Government and its policy ',was not only necessary but imperative. Events in Palestine, in- volving its neighbouring countries, were no surprise. Many were `surprised that they caused surprise at all. The mistake made by both British and Arab statesmen, was one of confusion, that the Arab " culture-nation" was the same as the Arab " State-nation "—the first a living reality, the latter a myth buried in the ruins of destroyed 'Arab villages and defence positions in Palestine. The Palestine Arab and his culture, which so recently has seen upheavals hardly com- 'parable in its history, are not to be confused with the clique of tarnished politicians or the platform speakers at international con- gresses. This culture is to be found in the villages, the nomad camps, the small townlets and hamlets of Palestine and the other Arab countries of the Middle East. To many who served in Palestine that was the Palestine Arab we really got to know, and to many of its be was the only one we really wished to know. This is an appeal for that Palestine Arab, forgotten by the world at large except as a Bible curiosity, forgotten by his leaders save as a bargaining card or a source of income, forgotten by world politicians save as a convenient pawn or scapegoat. It is an appeal made at a time when 7oo,000 members of his race face starvation, that in the future reconstruction of the Middle East he will be regarded as an indi- vidual, as a representative of a culture which must be constructively reorganised and restored, and not left to perish in a vacuum of delay or indifference.
Let me by a few impressions convey what I mean by Palestine- Arab culture, the man-made part of his environment. What is a -Palestine Arab? Perhaps he is the tall shepherd with a coarse brown cloak thrown over his shoulders and a white kaffiyeh wrapped round his mouth. He may be one of the Hebron labourers in terraced fields dropping his primitive implements and facing Mecca at the appointed hours. He may be amongst the holiday-makers travelling by bus from Jerusalem to Nebi Musa. Perhaps he is that dignified Moslem cleric leading prayers for rain in the dusty streets of Beersheba, or that eager youngster learning hard in the village school. Perhaps his greatest virtue is his brimming hospitality—"Ahlan wa Sahlan," " You are welcome." His generosity is shown in many ways, a boiled sheep or minted tea in a Tayaha Bedu camp, a kabbab on a skewer in a dim-lit Jerusalem restaurant, or perhaps a cup of rich coffee served with a glass of water on a tray. He has a love of music and song. He will switch on the radio and hum the catchy melodies of Abdul Wahab. In a Negeb tent an old story-teller will recite a story of the hero'Antar to the plaintive notes of a one-stringed fiddle. In a Bethany street a marriage will be celebrated to the sound of flutes, hand-clapping, tapping of feet in rhythm. Amid the silence of the wilderness a goat-herd will sit on a large stone and play a simple tune on his pipes unconscious of the world around; lost in the tawny sweep of the hills and the clear blue sky. Everywhere, in the clamour of the towns, by the flickering fires of the castle-like mountain villages, to the group of skipping blue-dressed Philistine maidens, runs a pattern, a harmony of life and culture and its environment. Beneath all lies the desire to live, the desire of the youth to throw off out-worn social ways and come to grips with the twentieth century. Into this scene came the impact of Western civilisation and the force of Jewish nationalism, culture contact and culture domination on a vast scale, a situation which called for immense understanding, tact and moderation on the part of the Great Powers and the formulators of Jewish and Arab political policy.
It is obvious we- have come to a turning point in Anglo-Arab relations and similar relations with non-Arab communities within the Arab world. Many who have concentrated their whole atten- tions on the fulfilment of political pledges or attainment of political integrations and economic units would be well advised to view the situation from its cultural aspect and realise that only in a long-term policy of rebuilding Arab cultural foundations can any wider unity or regional federation be achieved. Arab culture has a threefold adjustment and revival to make ; a revival from the aftermath of Turkish occupation, from the rule of various European mandatories, and, thirdly, a revival from the impacts of westernisation and the debacle in Palestine. It is only by a slow building up of the cultural basis of Middle East society that a satisfactory reconstruction can be achieved. To attempt such a programme direct insight must be made into the individual problems affecting each individual district in the Middle East and many of the smaller minority groups within these culture areas. A philosopher once said that " if you wish to see the meaning of a thing, look directly into it ; for if you think about it, it is altogether missed." Looking directly into the Middle East means looking directly into the economic, spiritual and educational foundations of Arab society—the Arab "culture-nation" —and not the respective political units or their administrative authori- ties. Such an intuitive approach was made by the Middle East Supply Centre during the war, when it published its monograph on Middle East Science, Agriculture and Rural Education, in which it emphasised the great part educationists, scientists and anthro- pologists could make in reconstruction projects. Only by such a slow reintegration and revival of Arab cultural foundations, particu- larly in Arab Palestine, can a future be assured in which Arab, Jew, Briton and other nationalities can truly play their part.
Many would criticise such an approach as impracticable ; we are told that life and progress are too rapid to make possible gradual reconstruction. The answer is surely that where such an approach is a necessity all things are possible and that it is better to spend greater time rebuilding a sound society than giving it a veneer of modern civilisation and allow sores to fester beneath. Any attempt to reconstruct a united Middle East by politics alone is bound to fail, because it must ignore the fundamental weakness revealed by Arab psychology, the incapacity for sustained effort or co-ordinated action. Such a reconstruction programme must come in the form of gradual far-sighted planning in co-operation with the constructive elements in all walks of life, and concern itself above all with giving the Arab man-in-the-street a better education, a better standard of living and a true appreciation of his cultural values. Those in office in Arab countries would do well to build their minaret on solid foundationi and not leave it suspended in mid-air, colourful, artistic but lacking support.
The West must show a greater interest in cultural affairs, and not confine its attention purely to pipe-lines, bases or dynasties. Wisdom cries out in the streets ; moderates and far-sighted experts are still at hand to give advice and to suggest methods of approach. Shall we regard them ? If we fail, the voice of wisdom may become the croak of a vulture in sterile and barren deserts and over mounds which were once cities as famous in their day as Nineveh and Babylon. Archaeologists will study the artifacts and habitations of the epoch and recover the story of an opportunity which came, which we saw, but which, through moral weakness, we tragically failed to grasp.
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