Arab and Druze at home

In Short

This travel account records a journey through the seldom-visited regions of the Haurân, el-Lejâʾ, and the heights of Gilead east of the Jordan River at the turn of the twentieth century. Drawing on five years of residence and fluent Arabic, the author blends personal narrative with historical and geographical observation, offering a detailed look at the local peasantry, Bedouin nomads, and Druze communities. The book endures as a vivid portrait of a landscape undergoing rapid transition, capturing traditional customs, ancient basalt ruins, and complex tribal relations just as modern infrastructure and Ottoman administration began asserting control over the region.

The Story

The narrative opens as the author sets out from Damascus on the Haurân Railway, traveling south across the fertile plains framed by Mount Hermon. Accompanied by local guides and traveling companions, he moves past ancient Roman infrastructure and oppressive Turkish administrative centers, venturing toward the lawless lava fields of el-Lejâʾ. Here, amid black basalt wilderness and fortified stone towns, he observes how local inhabitants adapt to a harsh environment by using natural cavern reservoirs for water storage. The journey progresses through a landscape steeped in biblical and classical memory, where Moslem shrines stand atop ancient high places, and deserted cities built entirely of dark stone remain standing with their heavy swinging doors intact.

As the travelers push deeper into the interior, the focus shifts to the intricate social dynamics between rival populations. The author describes the ongoing blood feuds between the Bedouin nomads and the mountain-dwelling Druze, illustrating how control of key settlements like Dama shifts through fierce skirmishes and mountain mobilizations. Throughout these encounters, the narrative emphasizes the strict codes of hospitality that bind host to guest. Whether in a village meeting house or around a desert campfire, the travelers are welcomed with fresh coffee, fried eggs, and milk, even among communities locked in constant warfare.

Crossing the white-water falls near Tell Shihân, the expedition climbs toward Shuhba, entering the stronghold of the Druze sheikhs. In these mountain towns, the author examines the unique religious beliefs and social structures of the Druze, noting their doctrines of soul transmigration and the strict separation between the uninitiated masses and the enlightened ʿAkkâl. Moving south into the fertile uplands of Gilead and Ammon, the party traverses lush oak forests, deep ravines, and the powerful gorge of the Jabbok River. Along the way, they encounter Circassian settlers farming with heavy wooden carts, visit the massive classical ruins of Jerash, and observe the peaceful labors of Christian missionaries establishing homes in volatile frontier towns.

The final leg of the trek descends into the tropical heat of the Jordan Valley. Armed against wild animals and navigating shifting sand dunes, the travelers explore the thickets along the riverbanks before reaching the plain of Jericho. After examining ancient springs and monastic caves carved into the cliffs of Mount Karantal, the author turns westward, climbing the historic pilgrim route up to Jerusalem, where the travelogue concludes in a quiet reflection on the enduring spiritual resonance of the landscape.

How It Unfolds

Leaving Damascus The journey begins on the new railway line, moving south across the grain-bearing plains of Haurân toward the administrative outpost of el-Merkez. The author notes the crumbling Roman bridges and the omnipresent threat of highway violence that forces local shepherds to travel heavily armed after dark.

Into the Black Wilderness Turning into the basalt expanse of el-Lejâʾ, the party explores deserted cities built of black lava stone and inspects subterranean water caverns. Over evening meals in village guest houses, local leaders share accounts of recent battles fought between Bedouin irregulars and Druze warriors over local strongholds.

Highlands of the Druze Ascending into the Druze mountains through heavy rain, the travelers take shelter in ancient stone houses and meet local leaders. The narrative pauses to record the religious practices, social customs, and traditional medical practices of the community, as well as the aftermath of recent conflicts with Turkish troops.

Across the Jabbok to Gilead The expedition leaves the volcanic fields behind, descending steep, oleander-lined ravines to cross the swollen Jabbok River into the fertile uplands of Gilead. Here, amid dense oak woodlands and rich pastures, they meet Circassian agriculturalists and explore the vast classical colonnades of Jerash.

Ascent to the Holy City Reaching the Jordan River, the travelers beat the dense brush for game, navigate treacherous sand dunes, and visit the oasis springs of Jericho. The book closes as the party ascends the steep mountain road toward Jerusalem, joining the long tradition of historical pilgrims passing through the pass.

The People

• The Author: A observant, Arabic-speaking traveller who moves comfortably between Bedouin tents and Ottoman administrative offices, driven by a desire to document the daily lives and antiquities of eastern Palestine.
• The Druze Sheikhs: Feudal mountain leaders who act as lieutenants and community protectors; though generous to guests, they remain locked in violent territorial disputes with surrounding Arab tribes and Turkish authorities.
• The Bedouin Nomads: Free-spirited pastoralists roaming the wilderness with their herds, bound by ancestral laws of hospitality, tribal honour, and an intimate, survival-driven knowledge of desert springs.
• The Turkish Officials: Provincial governors and military commanders attempting to collect taxes and enforce order across a lawless frontier, often feared by the local peasantry.
• The Circassian Farmers: Industrious Muslim refugees relocated to the region by the Ottoman state, who introduce heavy wooden ox-carts and systematic agriculture to the fertile valleys around Jerash.

In Its Own Voice

"This book is an attempt to lift a little way the veil which still so largely obscures that region, in spite of its great and splendid history..." Context: The author explains his purpose in writing about the lands east of the Jordan River in his introductory note.

"In that lawless land, he who goes abroad after sundown takes his life in his hand." Context: Describing the intense fear of local shepherds when retrieving their livestock after dark near es-Sanamein.

"The true representatives, indeed, of Abraham, that grand old sheikh, are not to be sought among the pale-faced slaves of Talmud and Rabbi... but in the dark-skinned, free-spirited children of the desert." Context: Reflecting on the traditional nomadic lifestyle of the Bedouin while observing sheep gathered at a desert well.

What It's Really About

Beneath its narrative of daily travel, the book is an examination of how ancient traditions and human communities persist within a harsh landscape. The author highlights the deep continuity of life east of the Jordan, demonstrating how modern Moslem shrines often occupy prehistoric "high places" and how Bedouin pastoral habits mirror those of ancient biblical patriarchs. Crucially, the text explores the friction between local autonomy and central authority, documenting a region caught between strict tribal codes of blood feud and hospitality on one side, and the modernizing, often oppressive machinery of Ottoman governance on the other.

Why Read It Today

Readers drawn to historical travel literature, Middle Eastern history, and historical geography will find this volume a rewarding, highly descriptive account of a region just before the fall of the Ottoman Empire. The prose is clear, warm, and attentive to physical detail, offering vivid descriptions of ancient architecture, natural landscapes, and formal Arabic greeting customs.

While the narrative is accessible, modern readers should be prepared for late-nineteenth-century colonial perspectives, Christian missionary assumptions, and occasional period generalizations regarding local populations and religious practices. Despite these contextual limitations, the author’s genuine fluency in Arabic and long residence in the country grant the text an authenticity that sets it apart from typical grand-tour tourist diaries. It remains a valuable historical witness to the landscapes, ruins, and human communities of Transjordan at the turn of the twentieth century.