Clive Smith, translator, Lightning over
Yemen: A History of the Ottoman Campaign 1569-71. London: I. B. Taurus,
2002, xiii, 226 pp., glossary, 20 illustrations, 3 maps, index ISBN 1860648363.
Ceasar Farah, The Sultan's Yemen: Nineteenth-Century
Challenges to Ottoman Rule. London: I. B. Taurus, 2002,
xxii, 392 pp, 2 maps, appendices, index ISBN 1860647677
Until this year (2002), any English reader
interested in reading about the Ottoman occupations of Yemen would have been
forced to repair to a specialized journal or plow through original texts in
Arabic or Turkish. With two very different kinds of books, the publisher I.
B. Taurus appears to have put Yemeni Ottomania on the English speaking map.
The first book, Lightning over Yemen, is a competent translation of
Qutb al-Dîn al-Nahrawâlî's al-Barq al-Yamânî
fî al-fath al-Uthmânî. The second, The Sultan's
Yemen, is a chronological narrative of events from 1817 to about 1911.
Both books are certainly contributions, although both have faults that need
to be noted. The fault with the translation of al-Nahrawâlî is
not with the translator, but with the servile and polemical treatise that
this 16th century author contrived. We have here not a "history" in the objective
sense, but rather a fairly subjective piece of anti-Zaydi propaganda. The
fault with Farah's book is not with the main narrative, which is a descriptive
summation of who did what, but with the short introduction, which has to be
one of the sloppiest and most careless I have ever seen in a scholarly work.
Let us start with the lightning; Clive Smith
has provided a translation of the 1967 Arabic edition of al-Nahrawâlî's
text by Hamad al-Jâsir. Although it is not a critical edition, stemming
back to the surviving manuscripts, it serves the need for serviceable translations
of Arabic texts on Yemen's history. Clive Smith had the assistance of historian
G. Rex Smith and the Omani scholar Mohamed Nâsir al-Mahrûqî,
thus assuring that this is a careful and accurate translation. There are more
than two dozen pages of endnotes with descriptive and analytical information
of value to readers, whether novices or experts. Clive Smith writes a short
introduction, but there is little new information here. He notes the author's
prejudice in favor of the Ottomans but agrees with Hamad al-Jâsir that
there is still value in this account. Obviously there is value in any contemporary
or near-contemporary historical account, but the sheer polemical weight of
the treatise makes the historical value quite contingent on placing it in
context. Early on the reader is informed that the Zaydi military commanders
(sons of Mutahhar in this case) were "pillars of sedition and evil and the
source of revolt, wrongdoing and resistance" (p. 24). Later we read that "...
the Zaydî tribesmen were now among the most treacherous of men on earth
and were the most disloyal where all Arab tribesmen were concerned" (p. 157).
On the other hand, the Ottoman Sinân Pasha is treated as "stout of heart
and full of faith, sincere in his conviction, loyal in his belief and faith,
clear in his advice, complete in his success, radiant in his grace for the
spring of Islam and ardent in his damage to the heart of heresy" (p. 51).
There are a number of relevant Yemeni historical texts which provide a very
different picture of the Ottomans and portray the imam Mutahhar not as a scheming
cripple but rather as a patriotic liberator. Some sense of this counterweight,
polemical as it must inevitably be, would have greatly aided the reader. Failing
this, I fear that some readers will fall into the trap of taking seemingly
straightforward comments as accurate, simply because there is so much obvious
hyperbole about the characters.
"There is much to distract the modern reader
in this account... Imagery shines on every page," argues Smith in his introduction
to the text. I am not convinced. There are plenty of clever phrases;(e.g.,
"... a lot of sheep do not frighten the butcher, and fine necklaces, however
valuable, are worth more to people who appreciate them" (pp. 31-32). Al-Nahrawâlî
is good at describing political scheming and movements of troops, but there
is little about Yemen itself. He gives more information about food in Mecca
(p. 187) than he does for Yemen. Clearly missing are the first-person observations
of cultural life that teem in the earlier account of Ibn al-Mujâwir,
for example. As Smith notes, the author has a poetic style with a wide variety
of metaphors that at times do not carry well over into English. Consider the
following: "Star-like arrow-heads broke as human frames were cleft. Wells
of blood met their end as virginal armour was deflowered by men's swords"
(p. 146). I get the picture -- the author delights in bloody battles and heads
being chopped -- but I doubt the Freudian sentiment here is as nonsensical
as the English rendering would have it. There is one passage that I thoroughly
enjoyed, although it sounds decidedly apocryphal: a certain Ibn Shuway
ran away from a defeat, in the process throwing off his armor and clothes
(apparently to lighten his load in running away) until he finally cast off
his trousers "showing his rear to the man behind him and disclosing his ugly
buttocks as he ran on" (p. 60). A remarkable [ob]scene, even without
a parting fart (cf. the donkey fart on p. 79). A close rival would be the
tale (literally about a tail) of the cat used as a fuse for setting off a
store of gunpowder. In this case the bark (not the best analogy for a cat,
I know, but it makes a good pun on barq) was worse than the bite.
There are a couple of places where I am
not sure if there is an error or simply obtuse wording (or perhaps an English
idiom I miss). For example, on Uthmân Pasha's departure from Yemen,
we read: "He continued to dance attendance, seeking a happy return" (p. 39).
One of the references mentioned in the notes (p. 193, note 1) is to a work
by Mustafa Salim, but this is missing in the bibliography. Overall, there
appear to be few errors. This narrative is an interesting read, even for non-Ottomanists,
but please take it with several grains of salt.
With The Sultan's Yemen, we are set
forward into the Ottoman rule during the nineteenth century. "The main focus
of this study is on Ottoman efforts to maintain sovereignty over Yemen, which
were constantly being challenged from within and without" (p. ix). Thus begin's
Caesar Farah's preface, announcing from the very first sentence an outright
resistance to sound grammar. After dangling his modifier, the author mentions
that his data stem from Ottoman officer accounts, other archival Ottoman documents
in Istanbul, some available first-hand accounts, other government archives,
newspapers, journals, and secondary sources (see pp. 365-372 for the sources).
Perusal of the endnotes (pp. 299-356) indicates that Farah draws mainly on
the archival information, thus providing new information of value to historians.
Unfortunately, he does not seem to be aware of more recent secondary sources.
For a discussion of early trade in Mocha, he sends the reader to a minor article
by Boxhall (1974) in Arabian Studies, but ignores the invaluable publications
of C.G. Brouwer, especially the latter's Al-Mukhâ: Profile of a Yemeni
Seaport as Sketched by Servants of the Dutch East India Company (VOC)
(Amsterdam, 1997). At times Farah ignores sources that would seem to be important
for his discussion. In chapter 8, for example, there is a discussion of Eduard
Glaser's travels in Yemen, yet only one brief 1884 newspaper interview by
Glaser is cited. Not only are several of Glaser's writings about his travels
available, but there is an informative book on Glaser's travels by Walter
Dostal (Eduard Glaser -- Forschungen im Yemen, Vienna, 1990).
Anyone interested in the Ottoman presence
in Yemen during the nineteenth century should consult this book, as there
is much of value in it. However, this is not a book likely to be read very
far by anyone who is not intensely interested in obscure details. Consider
the following passage: "The grand vizier issued instructions to the governor
general to withdraw 200 Ottoman troops from the house of Ali ibn Muqbil.
Nuri Süleiman, the mutasarraf of Taizz, had issued a buyrultu
on 15 February 1873 to Ali ibn Muqbil after he offered to submit to
Ottoman authority, appointing him müsür of Lahj under the
immediate supervision of Hayrallah Aga, the kaymakam" (p. 138). Farah
has a tendency to string together details, sandwiched in between an opening
paragraph saying what each chapter is about and a short concluding paragraph,
but his historical analysis is wedged amongst the details rather than driving
the narrative. He also has a tendency to paraphrase rather than translate
directly, which can be annoying to fellow historians. His annexes exemplify
this habit; such summaries are useful in general but not for serious comparative
purposes where the original is not accessible.
I strongly suggest that the reader skip
over the book's introduction, which is fraught with errors. It appears that
this was written in a hurry without benefit of access to proper references
and that the responsible Taurus copy editor was under a particularly inauspicious
sign when this manuscript went to the printer. One of the more egregious errors
is mislabeling the prophet's nephew Ali as Jafar (p. xii); nor
was Ismaîl one of the Prophet's "grandsons" (p. xiii). It is rather
curious and inaccurate to assert that "The Mamluks of Egypt controlled the
land from the thirteenth to the sixteenth century when the Ottomans displaced
them" (p. xiii). If Farah is referring to the Ayyubids, they came from Egypt
in the twelfth century; the Rasulids who succeeded them were hardly under
the dominion of the Egyptian Mamluks; nor were the Tahirids who the Ottomans
did engage! Historical and alphabetical order are ill-served by placing the
Tahirids before the Rasulids in a casual listing of local dynasties (p. xii).
In this same paragraph, chronological flip-flopping continues when Farah returns
to a discussion of the Abyssinians and Persians after discussing the entry
of Islam into Yemen. The author also seems to have left his calculator off
when noting that the British occupied Aden in 1839 but "were forced to leave
fewer than 100 years later" (p. xiv); the British left in 1967.
Grammatical errors abound: the second sentence
is missing a comma (after "neighbours"). Farah seems to have a particular
penchant for dangling modifiers. A literal reading would result in the knowledge
that "Continual foreign intrigues and manoueuvres to gain access to the region's
commerce, especially coffee in the Yemeni highlands, which the Dutch had first
controlled in the seventeenth century, led to competition..." It is hard to
explain some of the odd translations given by Farah for quite commonplace
Yemeni terms. Surely he has spent enough time in Yemeni qat chews to
find a better way to define "Kat" than "a nut chewed by Yemenis" (p. 359).
Similarly, a janbîyah is more than a "weapon" (p. 359). It is
rather misleading to define "Rumi" in a Yemeni context as "pertaining to a
Greco-Roman term" (p. 362), since it is a common appellation in Yemen for
things "Turkish" in the sense of Rum" for Istanbul. It is fine to describe
ashrâf as "Descendants" (p. 357) of Muhammad, but the singular
sharîf is mismatched as "descendants of the Prophet" (p. 363).
So there you have it: two books on either
end of the Ottoman intrusion into Yemen. Ottomanists will want copies of both,
but the average reader will probably need to be more cautious. For enjoyment,
an appreciation of an author's polemical hubris, I suggest Lightning over
Yemen over The Sultan's Yemen. For micro-analysis from previously
ungleaned archival material, check out Farah's narrative, but please pass
over the first few pages of his introduction.