BY THE HAMAVANDS TO SULAIMANIA
Al Akrad Tāīfatun min al jinnī kashafa ’llāhu ‘inhumu ’l ghitā’.
(“The Kurds are a race of Jinn from whom God drew back the
curtain,” and revealed them.)
We left Kirkuk soon after daylight one morning, and joined a large
caravan going to Sulaimania under the protection of one Shefiq Effendi,
an “askar katebi” or military accountant. As this was the first caravan
for some time, a large number of persons availed themselves of the
chance of getting to Sulaimania. Few merchants had dared the passage.
The travellers were poor people on foot, various kinds of Kurds, a
shopkeeper or two of Sulaimania, and a number of officials whom duty
called. All these last were taking their womenfolk, and a spirit of
fright hovered over these unfortunate females which communicated itself
to some of the effendis. For even with the escort we had, it was a
highly dangerous undertaking to attempt the passage across the Hamavand
country. Their fears were well enough founded, for we had but seventy
foot-soldiers, and armed though they might be with Mauser rifles, they
could not hold their own against even an equal number of Hamavands, and
they knew it.
The marching kit of these sturdy fellows was eminently practical. In
these lands, where a man does not look for hot meals three times a
day, nor fear sleeping in the open, the ordinary traveller makes his
way under conditions which European soldiers would consider hard. So
the soldier cannot be expected to carry multifarious knapsacks of
field fodder. In fact, he differs from the rest of us merely in the
possession of a good rifle and plenty of cartridges. For the rest he
wears what shoes he pleases, none at all if it please him better, and
he sleeps in the clothes he walks in, as does everybody else, not
troubling about what he lies on nor what he pulls over him. We had
among us two Christians, a Greek army chemist and his wife, a Chaldean
of Kirkuk. He rode upon a donkey, or rather walked and let the ass
carry his bedding, for it refused to carry him as well. His wife was
perched upon their belongings high above a mule. One effendi was an
army officer returning to Sulaimania, his native place, for he was
a Kurd, and he had several Kurdish women with him, one on horseback
and others astride laden mules. There was the usual number of small
boys and babies in arms, and a Jew or two taking printed cottons to
Kurdistan for sale.
Our mules carried some boxes of ammunition and a load of books--the new
instructions of the Parliament for the regulation of rent contracts
and municipal affairs. The muleteers were highly amused at this load,
commenting upon the waste of money involved in sending regulations to
a town where order never existed, and if it did, rent contracts and
municipal affairs were unknown, even by name.
As one looks east from Kirkuk towards Kurdistan, a low range of red
barren hills shuts out the view, and over these runs the road to
Sulaimania, and after crossing the plain behind, through the only gap
in a second range to the plain of Bazian, the centre of the Hamavand
country. This gap is the place where the wild horsemen have always
assaulted caravans going east, and two months after our journey to
Sulaimania, attacked and totally defeated a body of soldiers, killing
several, and capturing every arm and cartridge in their possession.
But two days before we had started two ragged fellows had come in from
this gap to Kirkuk--two long days’ journey--and described the sack of a
small caravan there; so prospects for us were not bright.
[Sidenote: SHUAN KURDS]
Judge, then, of the joy when our leader, the Shefiq Effendi, struck
off the road and began taking a course among some low hills almost due
north. For by so doing he left almost behind us the Hamavand country
and headed for that of the Shuan Kurds, a powerful but peaceable tribe
engaged in the keeping of flocks and herds--as their name implies.[48]
By noon we were appreciably rising, the hills were closing in, and
we could never see far ahead, for the track wound in and out among
steep downs. We passed a Kurdish village, a collection of huts upon a
mound, about this time. The women, unveiled, bright in coloured robes,
turbaned as only Kurdish women are, came out to stare and to inform
men within of our arrival. Soon mounted men came galloping over the
hills, appearing from apparently deserted corners of the landscape,
and approached our leader. Coming up to him they dismounted and took
his hand, greeting him with affection, and then we discovered that
he--the military accountant--was a chief of the tribe. And no sooner
were we away from Kirkuk, than away went the fez from off his head,
to be replaced by a Kurdish handkerchief. Despite the invitation of
these villagers, our leader would not stop, and we continued our way
through the valleys. Here in some places, surrounded by hills, the wind
dropped, and the sun’s heat became so intense as to make the hardiest
of these inured folk complain.
We entered one of these valleys, or rather, small flat plains between
hills, and here the heat became intense. No breath of wind stirred, and
the unfortunate soldiers began to look very sick and weary. Everybody
carried some water, but it was quickly finished, and to add to the
annoyance of the intense heat, myriads of small agile flies buzzed
about the head, settling in eyes and ears and sticking to the lips. One
of the women fainted, and fell from her mule; those of the men that
had turbans spread the handerchiefs that composed them, holding out
corners to shade their heads. Around us, sitting upon the edge of some
cliffs, were rows and rows of solemn vultures, a fitting feature of
this landscape, where were but the bare stones of the valley, not an
inch of shade, nor a blade of grass, nor a drop of water, and a silence
and repose more deadly than the uproar of the worst storm. The sweat
ran off down the face from the hair, down the chest it rolled, to soak
through the clothes into the bedding one sat on. The mules sweated and
stank, and the dust rose, choking one’s already parched throat.
For two hours we wound along the flat thus, till we reached the end of
the valley, where the hills closed in, and the track mounted here. For
another half-hour we crawled up, zig-zagging along a steep and stony
path, and all at once met a breeze--and a view.
For before us were the higher hills of the Shuan downs--great green
ridges and hill-sides, waving with long grass and bright with flowers.
Deep, steep valleys lay in the shade between them, and in the distance,
dim even in this clear air, rose the snowpeaks of the Zagros--and
Persian Kurdistan.
We were now well within the Shuan country, and so long as our road lay
in it we were safe, for the Hamavand would not come out of their own
country into that of the Shuan, with whom they are friendly, besides
having a goodly respect for the strength of this pastoral tribe. So we
stopped at the first stream without thought of robbers, and threw our
loads for a while. There was but a trickle, or rather, three pools in
the bed of the stream, at the bottom of which a tiny spring bubbled up,
and it was a long time before we all got a drink. There was one tree,
too, in this delectable gully, and the soldiers promptly bivouacked
under it, striking and beating other equally weary foot-passengers
who would have shared the shade. Our particular party, which consisted
of the original travellers from Mosul, fared better in the matter of
water, for one of us discovered a fresh spring about a quarter of a
mile lower down, whither we repaired with drinking-basins and earthen
water-pots, and made an excellent meal from this and bread and dates.
We were sleeping soundly--the sleep that comes quickly to the dweller
in the open air, oblivious of the sun and flies--when the order came to
load up; and as the effendi insisted upon our all starting together,
there was a terrible rush.
[Sidenote: LOADING A MULE]
Mule-loading is an awkward business, requiring at least two men.
First the creature has to be brought alongside his load, which is two
packages of equal weight, one to be suspended each side of him. These
are already roped together, and to load, the two halves are lifted
together to the top of the pack-saddle--about five feet six high. Then
one of the men must run round to the other side, take the off half,
pull it down and work it this way and that till it exactly balances
its fellow on the opposite side. Then if there be a passenger, his
bedding is thrown on top and a long girth thrown over and round all.
This is quickly enough done under two conditions--first, that the mule
be near his burden when the time comes for loading; and second, that
he can be induced to stand while the packages are being lifted up and
placed against the saddle. At this moment he has a habit of sidling
away, and the load falls to the ground. Needless to say, after loading
some sixteen mules, as we did twice a day, at express speed, a rest is
very welcome, but one often has to walk a few miles over stony ground,
urging the beasts when they lag, and the steep hill-sides frequently
force everyone to dismount.
Out of the valley of the stream we came to a higher one between two
long ridges of hills, and for three hours made our way northwards
along it till we came to a village of the Shuan, prettily situated by
a stream and several clumps of willows, and threw our loads upon the
beaten ground round about.
The first proceeding when arranging for the night, is to arrange
the loads in a kind of wall, and behind these one spreads felts and
coats. Meanwhile the mules are led off to water, brought back, and the
pack-saddles removed. The muleteers then clean the animals more or
less with a rattling tin currycomb, replace the saddles, which act as
blankets, and, tethering the beasts to a long line upon the ground,
give them their barley.
In the meantime one goes off to the village--if there be any near--to
find provender, which in the Kurdish country is a commodity called
“du,” the Persian “dugh.” This is curds and whey watered to the
consistency of milk, slightly sour, and always cool, for they keep it
in porous skins--it is the most refreshing drink possible. Among the
Kurds it is considered a mean action to sell such a thing, and this
village was no exception to the rule. I undertook the task of getting
for our party, and set off, entering the village through a broken
courtyard wall, for there were no streets. After poking my head into
several houses I found a good woman who was pouring out “du” into a
wooden bowl, and demanded some, saying that there were several of us
to share it. Without a word she handed me the skin, a bowl, and a deep
spoon, and with all this a handful of flaps of new bread, answering
my thanks with the Kurdish “Khwashit bi” (“May it pleasant to you”).
Among the Kurds no one thinks of objecting to strangers walking into
their houses, nor seeing the women, who walk about unveiled; indeed,
they possess no veils. Perfect freedom of intercourse exists, and the
womenfolk pause in their journeyings to and fro to chat and joke with
all and sundry, beggar and effendi alike.
In the early morning, long before daylight, the sound of people moving
woke us, and we rose to find marching orders already issued, and half
the caravan loaded. One of us ran off to fill the water-pots at the
stream, where the village women were already similarly engaged, while
the rest of us fell to and loaded, and after a few minutes the caravan
started. Dawn found us just topping a ridge, and at the fork of two
footpaths. Expecting to take that leading east, and towards Sulaimania,
we were headed off by the soldiers to the northerly track, which
eventually led us round the tops of some high hills, and along a steep
ridge from which the ground sloped away with almost the gradient of a
precipice. Beautiful gullies with running water and groves of trees
branched off down below, and gave upon a broad plain where we could see
the broad stream of the Lower Zab River flowing. Sulaimania now lay
almost due south, and we could see its position by the great landmark
of the Pir-i-Mugurun Mountain that rises to its north, a precipitous
bluff about ten thousand feet high. Amid all these beautiful glades
and this verdant pasture-land we saw nobody but a couple of parties of
distant horsemen patrolling their country.
[Sidenote: THE SHUAN COUNTRY]
By noon we were very high up, in amongst the rolling hills, and
suddenly coming upon a steep decline, we saw below us a large village
protected by a strong castle upon a mound. This was one of the chief
places of the Shuan tribe; and reaching it--by a devious and steep
path--we threw our loads under some mulberry trees. This arrangement
of breaking the journey half-way through the day is not unusual in
Kurdistan, but I have never seen it done in Persia, where the stages
are shorter.
The effendi went to a banquet already prepared for him in the castle,
for runners, taking short ways over the hills, had advised the head-man
of his arrival, and a sheep had been killed and roasted whole. The rest
of us, after foraging for “du,” lay down to sleep till the time should
come to load once more.
This village is in a very remote corner of the Shuan country, off any
main track, and the natives were so impressed by the size of our
caravan, that they all came out upon their flat roofs to watch us
depart. Indeed, so small is the traffic, that there was no path beyond
the village, and a horseman accompanied us to show the nearest way to
our next halting-place. The track took us up the flank of a precipitous
hill, and once there, down a long, steep spine. Here the slope was so
great that it was impossible to sit even upon a donkey, and the women,
unused to much walking and hampered by unhandy garments, were in almost
as much danger when on their own as upon their steeds’ legs, of falling
headlong down the steep to the stream that ran three hundred feet below.
At the bottom we had to face the next ridge, and over that another
and steeper one, on the opposite side of which was a beautifully
situated village, almost hidden amongst trees, with a couple of
torrents running down between the houses. This was about the highest
point of the Shuan lands, and from its summit we could see all their
country, miles of hills, green with the spring verdure, stretching
away south and west. Before us lay the Zab valley, and the whole view,
north-east and south-west, was shut in by range upon range of high,
steep mountains, the Zagros. We camped in the open that night upon a
steep hill-side opposite a village. Some of the villagers had migrated
to our camping-place to be near some growing corn, and were living in
palisades which they had erected upon the summit of the ridge.
From here our road lay almost south to Sulaimania. We had come through
the country of the Shuan Kurds, and we had no other course but to go
down through the Hamavands to Sulaimania. By coming so far north we had
turned the flank of the Bazian hills, and would now enter the valley
that ran north-west and south-east from its upper end. This is the
Hamavand country proper, one long narrow valley between precipitous
hills, where no traveller dared venture, and of which even the odd
foot-passengers who accompanied us had no knowledge, in spite of their
ramblings all over the country. A poor man can of course go almost
anywhere on foot without fear of molestation, for he neither excites
the cupidity of the Kurds by possessions, nor their enmity by weapons.
A thick stick and a dagger are his armoury.
[Sidenote: CARAVAN COMPANIONS]
Of this mixed collection, who carried all their belongings upon their
backs, a very large number knew Persian, and delighted to air it
whenever possible. They were all Kurds, from all parts, Sina, Sauj
Bulak, Keui Sanjaq, and even Kermanshah, which is quite cut off from
Sulaimania by very precipitous mountains and savage tribes.
Among them were two Aoramani, members of a tribe inhabiting the border
mountain of Aoraman, a steep wall of rock nine thousand feet high, in
whose valleys the Aoraman tribe lives. I was very anxious to learn
something of them, for their own tradition assigns to them an origin in
northern Persia; they speak a dialect not Kurdish, and now I saw that
they possessed a physiognomy and manner also foreign to the Kurdish
peoples. They both spoke modern Persian, and one was quite well read,
reciting long stanzas of the Shah Nama, a Persian epic very popular
among them. They would not admit a Kurdish origin, calling themselves
“Farsan i kuhangahi,” Persians of the olden time--and their language,
which I afterwards learned, and saw written in several manuscripts, is
certainly not a Kurdish dialect.
Our start that morning was delayed, for Shefiq Effendi, our leader, had
caused some messengers to be sent to the first Hamavand village, with
a letter from the resident Shuan chief, informing the tribe of Shefiq
Effendi’s arrival, and the displeasure that any raid upon him would
arouse among the Shuan.
Notwithstanding this warning to them, and a guard of twenty Shuan
horsemen who accompanied us as far as the brook marking the limit of
their country, there seemed to be no certainty that we should not be
attacked, for the soldiers were, after all, not in the same category
as harmless passengers under Shuan protection, and it was feared that
a body of Hamavand might descend, and cutting off the soldiers, fall
upon them. Consequently mounted scouts from the escort were sent out
on every side, particularly ahead, and the Kurdish horsemen displayed
considerable skill in the way they galloped up narrow gullies to steep
hill-tops, and keeping up with the caravan below, despite the detours
they were often forced to make. Every member of the caravan wearing
uniform was instructed to reverse his coat or cover it with an aba, or
cloak, and conceal his fez in a Kurdish head-dress. The caravan itself
was kept together, the soldiers marching in the middle of it!
For some hours we crept round the face of cliffs that debouch upon the
Zab valley, and at last, turning away from the river, climbed through
several beautiful valleys, enclosed by precipices, to a plateau. We
were now in Hamavand country, and a keen-eyed scout descried a little
body of horsemen some distance away. These kept parallel with our
course, while one of their number went at full gallop in the direction
our road would take us.
There is great danger among the tribes when two bodies of horse
approach, for it is a custom to fire from the distance at the new
arrivals, to ascertain whether they be friend or foe. In the former
case they refrain from answering, and wait for the others to approach,
which they will do either at full gallop, or taking cover behind
hummocks. Within earshot, greetings are exchanged, and recognition
takes place, by face, difference of dialect, or turban, when subsequent
proceedings are determined.
For some hours we went thus, among the hills which succeeded the
plateau, till we arrived at a valley where, upon the hill-side was
a large village standing by a river. This is the village of the
sedentary Hamavands, which, with its groves and gardens, is a pleasant
sight. Upon the flat roofs the population was gathered; the richness
of their clothing and the general idleness telling very plainly the
triumphant story of two years successful rebellion and raids. From out
this village another knot of horsemen appeared, but refrained from
approaching, keeping to the opposite side of the valley.
[Sidenote: MEET THE HAMAVANDS]
Not wishing to rest so near the village, we kept on for some time till
a turn of the hills hid us, and then in a depression by a basin where
the grass grew knee-high, we threw the loads under some trees. Hardly
had we done this than from every gully in the hill-sides horsemen came
galloping down. Handsome men these Hamavands. As they rushed along, the
silk head handkerchiefs of many colours streamed behind them; their
long tunics, covering even their feet, rose and fell with the horses’
action. The stirrups of many were inlaid with silver, contrasting with
the scarlet upturned shoes. Their zouave jackets they had ornamented to
the highest degree. Weird designs in gold braid and thread covered the
pale blue cloth. Most were armed with Mauser repeating rifles, taken
from the Turkish soldiers by force, and they made no pretence of hiding
such evidences of their predatory predilections before the numerous
soldiers and officers of our caravan.
Altogether there were about fifty of them, and notwithstanding the
attitude of the soldiers, who had entrenched themselves behind bales,
covering the oncomers, they rode straight up to the encampment,
heedless of the disconcerted army that rose from behind its cover,
looking foolish. As they approached near, each one ostentatiously
opened the breech of his rifle and emptied it of cartridges, then
slung it on his back, thereby announcing at once their friendly
intentions, and their scorn for the soldiers. It was evident that the
Shuan messengers had been well received, for the Hamavand head-man
was there, a lad of about twenty, gorgeous in silk raiment, even to
the undershirt, of which the long pointed sleeves hung to his feet.
Remarkable, too, was the spotless cleanliness of these people. Despite
their rough lives and constantly being in the saddle, not one showed
a soiled shirt. Later, I discovered that the predatory Kurd, the more
wealthy he becomes, insists ever more upon clean clothing--a feature
peculiar, I should imagine, to the Kurd of these parts--not that the
race can be called dirty, as the standards of Persia go.
The Hamavands, members of a race famous for bravery and lawlessness,
have made a name for themselves among their countrymen, outdoing
the wildest in foolhardy raids, and the bravest in their disregard
of any danger, and a hostility to the Turks that has broken out
continually ever since the powers of the old pashas of Sulaimania were
broken. These years of outlawry seem to have had an effect upon their
physiognomy. While not possessing the fine features of the Kurdish
race, they have an alertness in their sharp dark eyes that comes of
their mode of life, and a hostile manner that even among friends they
cannot always control. We learned gradually, by the news that filtered
from the tree where they were gathered round Shefiq Effendi, that they
had received our messengers, and would see us as far as their chief’s
tent in Bazian plain, but we must take the chances of his decision.
They could not guarantee that he would not resent the appearance of
so many soldiers, nor be able to refrain from molesting them. It was
suggested by the local chief that the soldiers should pack their
arms upon mules and go back to Kirkuk, when we were assured that the
chief would welcome us as followers of Shefiq Effendi. The Hamavands
were very frank and very honourable. They refused to accept any food
from the effendi, for they might be called upon to fall upon him
and his soldiers that night; but after he had exempted them of all
responsibility, they consented to partake of his tea.
However, they insisted upon certain conditions in the case of the
soldiers. The bugle which had been used in the Shuan country was handed
to the Hamavand leader, and one of his men at once tried to blow a
call, a melancholy failure that provoked the sarcasm of his fellows,
not only at hire, but of the fools that had to be led by a braying
brass pipe and could not understand the hill calls. The soldiers were
to march wherever the riders directed, before or behind the caravan,
and at night must camp where told, and be prepared to be shot at if
they moved about at night. The conditions were of course agreed to,
despite the disgust of the commanding “bimbashi,” a Turk who had to
have Kurdish translated, and who began to realise at last what Kurds
might be.
[Sidenote: BAZIAN]
These conditions arranged, a number of the troop left us to advise
the chief, and taking a steep mountain path were soon out of sight.
We loaded up slowly and resumed our way through some of the prettiest
country I have ever seen in Kurdistan. Water and trees were abundant,
valley after valley was carpeted with flowers and deep in grass. Sheep
and cattle grazed in every place, guarded by small boys and girls,
young Hamavands as yet not enlisted in the fighting forces--I include
girls under this heading, for the women fight when necessary.
Towards sunset we topped a ridge and saw before us the long and narrow
valley of Bazian, the centre of the Hamavand country. It is specially
favoured with water, an abundance of which flows down from both sides.
The two ranges appear to pour out all the moisture they possess upon
the Bazian valley, for the plains that run up to their feet outside are
waterless, and each range while presenting, upon their inward or Bazian
faces, green, if steep slopes, show to the outer world precipitous
faces of bare rock.
Consequently Bazian valley, for the whole of its narrow length--it is
only two miles across--is a green field, wherein herds of sheep and
cows, like our Guernsey breed, graze all the year round. The Hamavands
had also an eye to self-defence in selecting this secluded spot, for,
shut in at both north and south ends, its eastern and western walls
have no break in them except the Bazian break in the western range,
and a depression in the same range lower down at Sagirma. These two
passes are admirably commanded from the steep spurs above them, and
have never yet given way to an invading force.[49]
In a corner of the eastern range we came at sunset to a large black
tent, the spring residence of the chief of the Hamavands, Hama Beg.
From it emerged a number of men, who springing upon their horses came
to meet us, and pilot us to our camping ground--for piloting was
necessary. The leader of a tribe in rebellion must, even in his own
country, be wary, and this chief had placed his tent in such a position
that, while at his back was a precipice, on the other three sides a
deep bog stretched, passable only by one narrow and slushy path. In
the midst of this bog was the firm island upon which he lived and had
allotted to us a camping place. The ground, to a stranger, appeared all
firm, for a uniform covering of long grass stretched from the rocks’
foot right across the plain.
Apparently the chief had decided upon letting us pass his country
unmolested, for he came outside his tent and welcomed Shefiq Effendi
cordially enough, leading him inside, where tea and nargila were
produced.
Up to this point every one had been in a state of trepidation, for
there was almost an even chance of being robbed and even slain. And
this solely because of the soldiers, upon whom everybody looked with
the loathing naturally to be displayed towards--not a single one--but
a host, of Jonahs. These unfortunates, besides suffering from a most
demoralising fear, were quite subdued, displaying none of the exuberant
brutality usually typical of the creatures. Almost in silence they lay
down on the damp ground allotted to them, nor objected when a dozen
Hamavands formed a circle about them.
Despite the friendly attitude of the chief, he gave away none of his
native caution; it is just possible that he suspected, or saw the
possibility of treachery, for while we had a hundred soldiers, there
were but thirty or forty of his men there. At any rate, horsemen kept
appearing in twos and threes from every direction, unchallenged so long
as it was light, but approaching warily, calling their mates by name,
after sunset. By midnight there must have been a hundred and fifty men
there, sitting wide awake around their chief’s tent. Their horses,
saddled, with bits removed, grazed near by, ready at any moment.
[Sidenote: AMONG THE HAMAVANDS]
It was an understood thing that anyone standing up or moving about
was liable to be shot at, and one incautious soldier, trusting to the
moonless darkness, stood up and moved, and learned to his cost that
Hamavands do not sleep when on guard, and moreover can make very close
shooting in the dark.
I do not think many of us slept that night. The muleteers were in a
terrible fright for fear the Hamavands should quietly lead their mules
away and loose them upon the hills, where none but Hamavands could
recover them. The soldiers feared sudden slaughter; and the passengers,
looting.
Our hosts, too, were on the alert all night long; the glow of the
cigarette ends and the grumble of talking went on, and at dawn it would
seem that none had slept. It is a remarkable power that Kurds possess
of night watching. Time after time I have seen men turn night into day
thus, sitting by a fire all night almost motionless, but wide awake,
ready for action, and by daybreak mount and ride thirty or forty miles
and repeat the same proceeding. They seem almost tireless, possessing a
power of endurance that continual danger has taught them. It is at any
rate an achievement that makes the Kurd almost impossible to take by
surprise in night attack.
The Hamavand tribe, which has brought all the arts of raiding and
guerilla warfare to perfection, has a reputation of long standing for
its daring and independence. Geographically speaking, they are not
strictly within the borders of Kurdistan, but upon its western marches,
and owing perhaps to the isolation of their country between its two
ranges of hills, have kept aloof from all their neighbours for years.
They themselves claim Arab origin, a pretension not unusual among some
of the smaller Kurdish tribes, and unsupported by any evidence for,
and contradicted by much against, its possibility. For some years past
they have allowed the Kurdish shaikh, or religious leaders, of the
Qaradagh, their district, to attain a great ascendancy, and these have,
by continual urging and exhortation, achieved their end of saddling the
tribe with an iron-bound habit of religion quite foreign to the real
Kurd of the mountains. Religious fervour, among Sunnis in particular,
is inseparable from a great respect for Arabic language and lineage,
with which the Sunni Turk and border Kurd almost invariably evinces a
desire to identify himself; very much as Mr Smith or Mr Jones seek to
prove a pure Norman descent which their names and antecedents do not
necessarily indicate.
So we see Hamavand, Baba, Shuan, and Jaf, all claiming Arab descent for
their leaders, while yet very proud of being Kurds to-day.
All these tribes are fond of indicating their dress, an adaptation of
that of the Arabs, which they have adopted to the exclusion of the old
and fantastic Kurdish dress, and point to it as being something to show
their connection with the Arabs.
On the other hand, however, there are far more weighty evidences to
prove that they are Kurd and nothing but Kurd, chief of which is their
dialect, which is a well-defined and pure Kurdish tongue, the only Arab
words in which have been imported. These words are usually the names of
implements which, before the crafts of the Arabs were known to them,
may not have existed.
From earliest memories of south-western Kurdistan the Hamavands have
been in rebellion against the ruling power. Like every other small
tribe, there is but the most meagre history to be gleaned, and that
of the most recent only. They came originally from Persian territory,
where they lived near the frontier at Qasr-i-Shirin. Here they became
such an intolerable nuisance under their leader Jawan Mir Khan, that
the Persians, in a vain hope of keeping them quiet, offered them the
post of Wardens of the Marches at a fixed salary. This Jawan Mir Khan
accepted, and redoubled his raids, becoming so unbearable that he was
captured and executed. He was succeeded by his son Hama Beg. Upon his
accession to the chieftainship the Turks claimed the tribe. Needless
to say, the Persians gladly handed over this thorn in their flesh,
requesting the Turks to remove their subjects with all expedition. They
were then given the present country in the Qaradagh district.
[Sidenote: HAMAVAND ANTECEDENTS]
In 1874 they made a raid southward and commenced harassing the frontier
towns, actually laying siege to Mandali, an important border town.
Beaten off by troops and other tribes, they retired, and a number
conducted a successful raid as far north as the Christian villages
around Bayazid, returning, so report says, laden with spoil, and
unassailed, though their chief weapon was but the lance.
Five years later they fell upon Sulaimania, and the town was only saved
from wholesale looting by the arrival of a battalion of soldiers.
Shortly after this exploit, the Turks having by treachery trapped some
of the petty chiefs, a section was deported to the district of Tripoli,
in Africa, whence they returned. Six months are said to have elapsed
on the journey, and it is still the boast of the Hamavands that they
looted Arab and Turk alike upon their return journey. Later again they
encroached upon the territory of the great Jaf tribe, and were warned
off by the Pasha of these powerful Kurds, under pain of incurring
blood-feud.
About 1900, or earlier, incited by the shaikhs of Sulaimania and
Qaradagh, they fell upon a large caravan of Persian pilgrims near
Kirkuk, destroying two hundred of these unfortunates. Up to this time
Sulaimania, Rawanduz, and Keui Sanjaq had enjoyed considerable revenues
from the pilgrims who passed from Persia, _via_ Sauj Bulaq, to Bagdad,
but after this the traffic ceased, and the shaikhs have lost for
their neighbourhood a source of considerable wealth in satisfying the
fanatical impulse to slay Shi’a Musulmans.
In 1908 the Hamavands crowned a campaign of two years’ indiscriminate
looting by announcing themselves in rebellion, and between the autumn
of that year and summer of 1909 made good their assertion by stripping
the Governor of Sulaimania, stopping all traffic, ending with the feat
of attacking a “tabur” of Turkish soldiers, killing twelve (including
a colonel and other officers), wounding forty or fifty and depriving
them of all their possessions, including Mauser rifles, several loads
of ammunition, clothing, daggers, uniforms and animals, leaving the
miserable survivors thirty-six miles to tramp into Sulaimania. During
this period they threatened the town several times, and always kept
bands moving round about, so that corpses had to be taken out under a
strong guard for burial, and often only with Hamavand permission.
All the summer of 1909 troops were collected at Chemchemal, a small
town upon their borders, some eight thousand troops gathering by
degrees. But secure in the knowledge that they could not move until
a reluctant commander arrived, the Hamavands came up to the camp at
night, dammed the water-supply, and picked off incautious sentries,
disappearing before any sortie could be made. The soldiery was unpaid
and demoralised, the officer supine and incapable, and the commander
detained in Bagdad by various reasons of corruption and idleness. Two
local governors--of Sulaimania and Kirkuk--were called to Chemchemal to
form a court to judge and sentence the Hamavands when caught.
These individuals, together with the commanding officers were being
paid by the Sulaimania shaikhs to refrain from action, and the
non-existence among the soldiers of any steeds, mule or horse, made
operations at that time impossible.
[Sidenote: THE HAMAVAND RAIDS]
So the Hamavands gaily continued raiding, retaining the posts, burning
them, cutting up the telegraph lines. The Sulaimania governor when
first called to Chemchemal refused to go--he could not venture outside
the town. So the Chemchemal authorities obtained three hundred mules
by the simple means of appropriating them in Kirkuk, and sent three
hundred of their best soldiers thus mounted to bring the Mutasarrif of
Sulaimania. With this escort he made a rush, getting to Chemchemal in
seven hours, but not without having been chased by the Hamavands and
losing some riders.
As the utmost mounted strength of the Hamavands is two hundred and
fifty men, scattered in small bands about their country, their
assailants probably did not number more than thirty or forty, but the
brave three hundred fled.
At last merchants in Bagdad, Mosul, and Sulaimania made so much fuss,
and the Central Government--partly ignorant of the reason for the delay
of the proceedings--became so pressing, that the commanding officer
started from Bagdad. Simultaneously the Hamavands, informed by their
own spies, leisurely packed up their tents and their goods and retired
over the Persian border to the territory of the Sharafbaiani Kurds, a
little tribe the other side of the Sirwan River, upon the frontier.
The commander-in-chief arrived with much éclat, and with orders to
pursue the Hamavands in his possession, and to invade Persia if she
could possibly be accused of receiving even a Hamavand child over her
borders.
The troops at once started to ascertain the whereabouts of the
Hamavands, and finding no one in their country, had the satisfaction
of eating the growing vegetables and burning the wooden roofs of some
deserted villages. For two months they made quite certain that no
Hamavands lingered, catching every now and then a poor stranger Kurd
and mutilating him on suspicion.
This heroic task was proceeding when I left Sulaimania, and till now
I have reason to believe that the happy gathering at Chemchemal still
exists, six months after they arrived to march against two hundred and
fifty horsemen.
Some day they will retire, as soon as food gets scarce, and the
Hamavands will reappear suddenly, to commence another period of raiding
and defiance.
When we were among them on this occasion, as yet no move had been made
against them, and the universal opinion was that no caravans after
ours could pass. This was the case, for it was not till late August,
when the tribe had gone away, that caravans once more went between
Sulaimania and Kirkuk.
A large number of horsemen escorted us next morning, and we left their
country after about two hours’ journey, under the western side of their
eastern range of boundary hill, finding at last a path over a neck.
From the summit of this we could see a long range of hills on the
opposite side of an undulating plain about twelve miles broad, and
far away to the east a great snow-capped wall, the Aoraman mountain,
and Persia. This is the plain of Surchina, on the eastern border of
which Sulaimania lies. At the foot of the pass the Hamavand escort
indicated the spot where they had lately looted a caravan, killing
all the military escort and destroying a large number of despatches
and Government accounts. The scraps of these still lay about, and one
could decipher upon them the tag-ends of sentences, a diversion which
occupied some of the travellers for a considerable time. The recognised
territory of the Hamavands extends a little way into this plain, and a
large number were encamped by a stream in their black tents, and their
flocks covered the hill-sides.
Approaching Sulaimania, we came to a region of hillocks where had
originally been extensive gardens. Now they were but deserted patches
of land where the few trees remaining were dying for want of water.
Around Sulaimania the country is excellently watered by a river and a
number of streams, but the terror of the Hamavands in troublous times,
and of the Government and the shaikhs in days of peace, has effectually
ensured the desertion of what was once a richly cultivated country.
Right up to the outskirts of Sulaimania are the same melancholy relics
of past prosperity. At present there are no gardens around the town,
and it is supplied with fruit at exorbitant prices, from villages
on the other side of the hills, which are out of the range of the
Hamavands.
[Sidenote: ARRIVE AT SULAIMANIA]
Sulaimania lies on the lower slope of the hills between two spurs,
between which an abundance of excellent water flows. The town is
totally insignificant, possessing no large buildings nor anything
conspicuous, except a minaret recently erected. From outside it appears
but a homogeneous mass of flat mud roofs, relieved here and there by an
upper room of a larger house. It possesses no walls nor fortifications,
and one entered it abruptly from the desert, its outskirts being small
one-storied houses, in the courtyards of which may be seen the idle,
handsome women engaged in their constant and only occupation--smoking
cigarettes.
The proximity of Persian Kurdistan is very evident here, the style of
building in the poorer dwellings is that of Sina and Sauj Bulaq, and
in the better houses that of any western Persian town. We threaded our
way through some open bazaar streets to a caravanserai, where I had
resolved to put up. This was constructed entirely in the Persian style:
a row of rooms round a courtyard, which opened on to a low verandah.
I secured a room, and throwing into it my goods, dismissed the
muleteer, who was demanding a present for having conducted me safely
through the Hamavands to Sulaimania.
FOOTNOTES TO CHAPTER VIII:
[48] Kurdish “shuan”--a shepherd.
[49] In the opinion of the Sulaimania Kurds the word Bazian means in
Kurdish “the place of defeats,” but they have overlooked the fact that
the word “bazi” and “bazian” is a common one in Kurdistan, with the
significance “prominent hills.”