Loading ...Virtues of the Arabs
By: Habeeb Salloum/Arab America Contributing Writer
Without question, most of the peoples or nations of the world, among them the Arabs, suggest they have virtues which cannot be claimed by others. However, do some have virtues not found with others? To find, the answer, one must live with the people and study their actions. Having lived all my life in the West, I am well acquainted with the virtues and faults of its people. Are they any different than other peoples of the world? Do they have more or less virtues than the Arabs? I will let the reader decide after I relate some of my personal experiences, during my journeys to the Arab lands.
In 1961, I travelled with my wife for the first time in my life to the Arab world. When we reached our hotel in Damascus, Syria I found that I needed some of that country’s currency. The hotel clerk suggested that I rush to the bank since it was due to close in a few moments. Alas! When I reached the bank, it was in the process of closing. I was desperate. As I argued with the guard to let me in, a gentleman came out and seeing I was upset asked about the problem. “I need some Syrian liras. I have none for tonight!” I excitedly responded. Putting his hand in his pocket he pulled out 50 liras and gave them to me, then walked away saying, “I work in this bank. Come back tomorrow and return it to me.”
For a moment I was semi-stunned. Running after him I stuttered, “But you didn’t give me your name.”
Smiling he told me his name, then as he walked away, said, “Why are you worried? This is the least I can do for a stranger. We Arabs have faith in human nature.”
Through the years, I have always reflected on this incident which, I believe, is true indication of the Arab character. Without any questions, an ordinary bank employee giving a perfect stranger a significant amount of money, in any society, must be considered an act of faith and generosity.
During the same journey, travelling north from Damascus to Homs, we stopped at Deir ‘Atiyah, a desert town, to ask a passerby about the Masloub family, whose daughter, a nurse, we had become acquainted with in Canada. When we asked him for directions, he saw we were strangers and without hesitation, asked us to come into his home for a cup of coffee. “But we are in a hurry. We have only a few hours to spend with the Masloub family.” I, having lived in North American society where time and materialism were everything, couldn’t see the point of losing time.
The man took us by the hand into his home. “In a few moments, I will take you to the Masloub family, but first, a cup of coffee. Our home is your home.” For the simple reason we had asked him directions, we had become his guests.
The Masloub family were no less hospitable. Just because we knew their daughter in Canada, they made us feel we had been friends for years. They offered us unending dishes of tidbits, then refused to let us leave before giving us a meal. Although the Masloubs were Christian Arabs, they like most of the Arab Christians in Syria, Palestine and Jordan, being descendants of the pre-Islamic Arab tribes, had retained the generosity and hospitality of these desert men. These virtues, although retained by the Christian Arabs to some extent had, in the main, become part of the Muslim way of life. Throughout my life in North America, I have watched many Arab Christian families, as their Muslim environment receded into the background, lose these traits. However, the Muslim immigrants, even after one or two generations, still retain some of values of heir fathers. While attending a Muslim convention in Canada in the late 1950s, an Arab immigrant who had been in the U.S.A. for 60 years approached me, “Welcome brother. You know we originated from the same hometown. Come! I want to buy you dinner. I sued to play with your father when we were children.” This total stranger, whom I had never met, took me to the finest restaurant in the city for a gourmet meal. There is no denying the fact, he had kept the habits of the desert Arabs only because these virtues had become the Arab-Muslim way of life. After 60 years in North America, the ways of his forefathers had not been forgotten.
From North America to Syria the same codes are honoured by the Arabs. In 1965 my brother and myself and our wives, were deriving along the Euphrates River on our way to Iraq. When we reached Deir ez Zor, we decided to see an Arabic movie. In that era this northeastern Syrian town had seen few strangers. Stopping our auto, we asked a passerby if there was an Arabi movie showing in town. “Of course. Come with me. I will show you the place.” The youth smiled as he motioned us to follow him.
Parking our car, we walked with the young man to the cinema. When we came to pay for our tickets, we were told they had been paid for. By asking this young man about a movie we had become his guests. Therefore, as a good host, he had bought our tickets. When we tried to thank him, he cut us off saying, “This is the least I can do for strangers who have come thousands of miles to visit our country.” What a contrast with other countries were sharks are waiting to fleece the tourist.
In the same fashion as our visit to the Masloub family, but on a grander scale, was our stopover, in 1970, at the Hayani family in Saraqab, Syria. A son, Ibrahim, was our friend in Canada. At his urging, we, and our travelling friends, 12 in number, stopped to say hello to his family. What a visit it turned out to be! The Hayani family, who were the aristocrats of the town, took us in as their own. For two days they refused to let us go, saturating us with food and drink. We strangers, only because we knew their son, had been made part of the family.
A few hours before we were to say good-bye, my daughters told the lady of the house how much they admired the Arab dress worn by the womenfolk. In no time at all, two of the women went inside, took off their dresses, and wrapped them up as gifts for the girls. My daughters had forgotten that if a guest admires an object in the home of an Arab host, he is immediately given that object as a gift. A unique virtue, perhaps, to be found only among the Arabs.
The generosity of the Hayanis knew no bounds. That evening when we parted, they loaded us with gifts. Their hospitality had been tremendous. As we thanked them for all that they had done, the father, a proud old man of, perhaps 80, became, seemingly, a bit peeved. “Why are you thanking us so much? Are we not Arabs? Is not hospitality one of our codes of life?”
Perhaps, no less then the Saraqab hospitality was our pleasant experience in Morocco. The year was 1978 when I, with my wife and tawo daughters, were sitting watching a flamenco performance in Cordova – once Moorish Spain’s illustrious capital. A gentleman sitting behind us tapped one of my daughters on the shoulder as she was taling to her sister. “Excuse me. From what Arab country are you from? You are confusing me with the Arabic language you are speaking.”
“We are Arabs living in Canada”, my daughters chimed in together.
Introductions were made. It turned out Mohammad al-Rafa’I, who hailed from northern Morocco, was with his family, like us visiting Andalusia – that lost Arab land. We travelled for two days together for we had much in common, we two families in that land where our ancestors once ruled. When we parted Mohammad made us promise to visit him, where he was working, at Kenifra in Morocco. In a few weeks time when we fulfilled our promise, he not only fed us night and day, but also made, in our honour, a Bedouin feast and a folkloric evening which we have never forgotten. As if this was not enough. He had a friend drive us to Casablanca. No guest in any country or place have ever been treated more royally.
With his welcome and generosity, Mohammad al-Rafa’i was not unique. Most Moroccans have his hospitality when they have guests. The February 1983 day was cold as I, seeking the sun, was jammed in-between two men in a CTM bus travelling from Casablanca to Agadir in Morocco. When we had travelled a few miles from Casablanca, a handsome middle-aged man dressed in Moroccan attire tuned to me saying, “Where are you from? You speak a strange Arabic.”
“I am of Syrian origin, but I have lived all my life in Canada”, I explained.
“Welcome, this is your country”, the older man sitting on my other side joined in the conversation. Introductions were made and soon we were talking like old friends. Time went by quickly. It seemed only a few moments later that the bus stopped for a lunch break. My travelling companion, Mohammad, took me by the hand. “Come, let us have a meal and you Hajj also, come along”, he called out to the old man whom we had learned, during our conversation, had made the pilgrimage to Mecca. “Bring us the best tajine you have in the house”, Mohammad who was a merchant going to Agadir on business, seemed to know the owner of the restaurant.
Soon the three of us were eating, by hand, one of the most delicious tajines I had ever eaten. There was no question of my paying the bill. “You are a stranger. Do you not know the code of hospitality of us Arabs?” Mohammad declared, when I offered to pay.
“If God will, we will see you again in this country”, they both spoke together as each paid half the bill.
“There cannot be many other lands where a stranger is thus treated”, I thought to myself as we continued our journey.
It is not an accident that one of the Aras’ most important folk heroes is Hatem Ta’y. He was known for his generosity. No person stopped at his camp without being fed. His fame as a generous host spread far and wide. I tis said that he was so generous that he spent all his wealth feeding strangers. The time came when he had left only his beautiful Arabian horse which he cherished. One evening while sitting in front of his tent, a stranger passed by. He did not hesitate but invited him in and butchered for the meal his cherished steed. To this hero of generosity most Arabs in he past and even today, relate.
Besides generosity and hospitality there are others, codes by which the Arabs live. Among them, how to be pleasant to fellowmen. It was early morning in the Palestinian town of Qalqiliya in 1961 before its occupation by the Israelis. Splendid in his white Arab dress, al-Hajj al-Shanti, an old man in his seventies, was walking with me throught he centre of the town. Every person we met was greeted by al-Shanti, with a string of never-ending salutations. ‘Al-Salamu ‘alaykum’ (Peace be upon you) or ‘Sabah al-Khayr’ (May your morning be generous) or ‘Sabah al-Nur’ (May your morning be full of light) or ‘Naharak Sa’eed’ (May your day be happy), each was received with a smile, then returned in the same fashion. Living in the West, where one does not talk to strangers, I had forgotten that Arab Muslims always greet everyone they meet in the morning hours. Not to greet or be greeted is an insult.
A story is told that in one of the villages which was then in Syria, but which during the French Mandate was turned over to Lebanon, lived an Arab poet known for his poetry and wit. No one dared to insult or mock him if they wanted to stay free of his biting tongue. Next to his town was a neighbouring village noted for the dullness of its inhabitants. Some person in the past had noticed this and had nicknamed it ‘the Village of Donkeys”. One early morning while the poet was walking through his orchard, two youths form the neighbouring village passed him without greeting. He called them back. “Tell me, young man – from what village do you come?”
“From this neighbouring village. Don’t you know us?” They pointed to the nicknamed village.
The poet was stern as he talked. “Young man! When you return to our village, give your mayor a message from me. Tell him: ‘We met a poet in the neighbouring village’s orchard, and he said to us: “We were born like this, we live like this and we will die like this.”’”
When the lads told the mayor the story, he asked them, “Was he the famous poet? Did you not greet him as you passed him this morning?” When he found out this was so, he admonished them saying: “Fools! Do you not know he called you asses?” Asses they were for they had broken one of the codes of Arab/Islamic civility.
On our 1965 journey after the pleasant incident at Deir ez Zor we drove on through Iraq, then to Kuwait where we encountered a virtue of the Arabs unknown in many cases to the modern Arabs themselves. After we had finished the customary formalities, a young man dressed in spotless white, approached us and asked for a ride to the city of Kuwait. We, having a large van, were ready to accept when a man from customs came running out. “What does the young man want?” He pointed to the youth.
“Just a ride to Kuwait”. My brother was surprised at the question.
The officer was excited as he turned to the young man. “Why are you asking them for a ride when you are by yourself? Don’t you see they have their wives with them? Are you not an Arab? Where is your code of honour?”
The youth, ashamed, walked away. He had broken the unwritten cod that no man is to interfere with the womenfolk of others. Few people in the western world know that the code of chivalry with its protection of women was brought to Europe during the Crusades from the Arab lands. Today, although the propaganda in the West pictures Arab women as oppressed, in reality, they are elevated to an honorable level in Arab-Muslim society.
These incidents I have related are only personal experiences of one who made a few trips to the Arab word. Unnumbered must be the times when the same type of incidents are acted and reacted. However, today, all is not what it seems in the land of the Arabs. Many of the young people in these lands have taken on western values and have rejected the ways of their forefathers as backward. On the other hand, there are still a good portion, especially in the countryside, who keep the traditions of the past. If we take into account what has been lost and what has been retained, we find, what remains of Arab virtues is more than most nations or peoples of the world possess. In hospitality, generosity, human relationship and honour, there are not many people who can match what the Arab Muslims have to offer.
Do the Arabs have more virtues than other people? The stories I have related, to some extent, give the answer.
