THE MZAB
The journey south to Ghardaïa is very desolate; even the tufts of
alfa have practically disappeared. The road runs straight across
the flat plain, with nothing to relieve the eye except occasional
groups of dreary trees known as _pistachiers_. Flocks of sheep
graze by the roadside. The nomads’ tents stand out like black
patches on the stony ground. Sometimes a herd of gazelles will
be seen in the distance, bustards rise and flap languidly away,
hares abound. It is a great country for hawking.
If the day is hot, mirages will spring up and disappear as
quickly. It is not a picturesque journey to the land of the Mzab.
Half-way, the caravanserai of Tilrempt is reached; it is a long
white building standing in a dip surrounded by _pistachiers_. A very
worthy “mine host” will greet the traveler and regale him in
this desert home with one of the best meals he will taste in Algeria.
A visitors’ book will be presented to him, with which he can
regale himself joyously for half an hour before committing himself
to the pages as a further joy to those who follow. After Tilrempt
the country becomes more and more desertic, even the alfa has
completely vanished—only rough scrub, and little of that. Then
suddenly, at the one hundred and fiftieth kilometer, the oasis
of Berriane appears, a splash of vivid green in the middle of the
wilderness. The sensation of the verdure, after miles of desert,
is most refreshing. Berriane is the first city of the Mzab, and
one is at once struck by the originality of the architecture, quite
unlike anything that has been seen up till now. The minaret of the
mosque reminds one of an obelisk.
But this haven of green is soon left behind, and more desolation
begins. Not even the scrub, only stones and rocks and strips of
sand. It is a merciless, arid desert, the kind of scene which must
have inspired Doré to illustrate the Inferno of Dante: nothing to
relieve the eye for miles around.
Ghardaïa is reached unexpectedly. One appears to be in the middle of
the desert, when all of a sudden the road turns sharply to the right
and dips down a steep hill. It is as if one were descending into
the crater of a volcano. As the car reaches the flat there suddenly
appears the cone-like minaret of Ghardaïa, as it piles itself into
a kind of heap of houses on a little hill. To the left is the equally
heap-like city of Melika. It is an impression never to be forgotten,
a new world quite unlike anything seen before. But then the people
of the Mzab are a race of their own, and the confederation of cities
is quite unique. The Mzab is the Mzab, and it can be compared to
nothing— it is the most original place in North Africa.
The first question to decide, however, before penetrating into
its desolation and studying the inhabitants, is, _Who are these
people?_ And, curiously enough, the question is not easy to answer.
It is obvious to the simplest minded, on seeing these small,
squat men—with their smooth, round, white faces, fringed with
dark beards—that they are unlike any one else seen in Algeria.
They are as different as the Spaniards from the Germans, as the
British from the Italians. There are various theories put forward,
of which the most picturesque can not really be said to be founded
on any sound basis: it is that these strange people are the lost
tribe of Israel. In support of this theory we have the mystery
of their origin, and their very Semitic appearance; but, though
it would be pleasant to write a romance on the subject, it would
certainly have little merit outside fiction.
The second suggestion is that they are the direct descendants of the
old Phœnicians. People who oppose this idea bring forward the fact
that when Scipio destroyed Carthage he killed or deported all the
inhabitants. Against this, however, it must be evident that there
were Carthaginians in other parts of North Africa who escaped this
fate, and that Phœnician influence is found at a much later date.
In the Mzab itself there are certainly things very closely
connected with Carthage. The triangular decoration of the houses,
the pictures of fish, of the crescent moon, of the sun and the
stars are not Arab. The door-knockers represent the sun, and there
are many of phallic shape. But, in spite of these rather conclusive
evidences, the general idea is that the people of the Mzab are pure
Berbers. In support of this theory we have the fact that they are
Abhadites—that is to say, the last group of people created by the
great Kharedjite schism. What is certain is that the known groups
of Abhadites at Oman, Zanzibar, Djebel Nefarsa and the island of
Djerba have the same customs and language as the people of Ghardaïa.
The question then arises, why are these people in this desolation
of the Sahara, on no natural highway, and in no trade center, where
all the water comes from wells dug by the inhabitants, where it
rains about once every ten years? Why have these men voluntarily
condemned themselves to this life of trial and struggle? Those
learned on the subject maintain that this exile was conceived in a
moment of despair and as an act of faith, that in settling themselves
in this merciless desert they wished once and for all to flee from
the persecution which was always meted out to them by the orthodox
Mohammedans, and keep their form of religion and race intact.
It seems difficult to contradict this theory, all the more so when
we have evidence that they were driven from the Atlantic coast and
Tiaret in Oranie to Ouargla, an oasis some two hundred kilometers
south of Ghardaïa, and that, after barely two hundred years in this
oasis, they were again driven out by the Arabs. Weary, therefore,
of suffering, they determined to settle where no one would come and
molest them, and, as the only solution was to find a place naturally
hostile to invaders, they chose the Mzab. This took place about
A. D. 1070, but already in the year 1000 a reconnaissance had been
made in the direction of the Mzab and had founded a kind of refuge at
El Ateuf. When, therefore, the general emigration north took place,
the remaining six cities which form the confederation of the Mzab
soon sprang up—Bou, Noura, Melika, and Beni Sgen about A. D. 1048;
Ghardaïa 1053; and some hundred years later Guerrera and Berriane,
thirty miles outside the group adjacent to Ghardaïa.
Unlike most oases of the south, where water comes gushing out of
the ground and is directed by artificial channels to irrigate the
gardens, there was no surface water at all on the site chosen by
these people to found their cities. Every palm-tree planted, every
seed sown had to be watered artificially from wells, and if one looks
at the broad oasis, with its thousands of palm-trees, and when one
realizes that when the Mzabites first came the land was as barren
as that seen from the road, the feat performed leaves one amazed.
The system of drawing water has, moreover, not changed since those
days. The well is sunk and a kind of tank is built beside it, with
channels leading out to the parts of the land to be irrigated.
A sloping path is constructed, down which walks a camel with
a rope tied to its neck, while at the other end of the rope is
a skin resting at the water-level. When the camel gets to the
end of his walk the skin reaches the surface and by an ingenious
contrivance pours its contents into the tank; the camel returns
to the well, thus lowering the skin to the water again, and the
process recommences. The creaking sound of the pulley drawing up
the skin has a certain curious charm reminding one of Egypt.
Occasionally, but very occasionally, the rain comes, and to meet
this possibility barrages have been made across every little valley
in order to form small lakes. Beside every path or rock, gutters
have been constructed leading to one center where the water can
be stored. A rain-storm in the Mzab is worth untold millions to
its inhabitants.
And yet the Mzabite is not a farmer in any sense of the word, and
unless he is himself forced through poverty to work in the garden
he will avoid all contact with the soil and employ Arabs to look
after the land. He is essentially a merchant, living in his shop and
opposed to all outdoor life, all sport or anything military. This
antipathy to war again raises the question as to whether he is really
pure Berber. His cousins the Touaregs, the men of the Aurès and the
Kabyle Mountains, the people of the Riff, are all born warriors. Why,
then, has the Mzabite never been able to defend himself?
To my mind it confirms the theory that originally he was a
Carthaginian who became Berberized. Moreover, his round, squat
appearance is much more that which one would associate with the
prosperous trader of Carthage than with the wild men of the Riff.
All their instincts are for business. One sees these fat little
men plying their trade in Algiers, in the towns of the Tell, living
humbly and simply until the day is ripe to return to the Mzab. For
return they must, and this because no woman is ever allowed to
leave the confederation of the seven towns, and, as no Mzabite
may marry an Arab or vice versa, he is obliged to go back to his
home to continue the family. The family to him is of the highest
importance, and though they are, generally speaking, a democratic
race, they are very proud of their lineage, and their aristocracy
holds an important position.
Their habits are decidedly conservative, and are very noticeable in
the strictness with which their women are kept. They do not go to
market, and it is very rare to see one in the street. The children
are terribly shy, and at the approach of a stranger they flee and
at once hide in the houses.
They observe their religion most conscientiously; as it is the
Abhadite dissension it is very strict, and it is carried out to
the last letter, and, whereas one finds a good many Arabs breaking
the laws of the Prophet as it concerns wines and spirits, it is
excessively rare to see a Mzabite drink.
Their mosques are much more respected than those of the orthodox
Mohammedan; no one can be buried in them, and they are sanctuary to
all criminals. Their cemeteries are venerated, and one sees on the
tombs pots and plates, offerings to the dead, which again carries
one back to a more subtle origin than that of the ordinary Berber.
They sacrifice camels and oxen and sheep at appointed times,
chiefly for the purpose of bringing down rain, but also for more
daily occurrences, such as the laying of a foundation-stone.
As stated above, their commercial instincts are extraordinary, and
it is said that Ghardaïa and the adjacent towns conceal millions
of gold pieces. It is certain that in 1921, the year of the great
famine, these people had enough money to buy all they needed, and
they did not suffer half as much as the other tribes of the south.
They keep themselves very much apart from all other people, and
they consider the Mzab as a holy corner of the earth. The Arabs who
live in this wilderness are kept quite separate, with a quarter and
a mosque of their own, and, while mutually despising one another,
are usually the servants of the Mzabites. The Jews likewise who are
found in Ghardaïa itself, not only have a reserved quarter of the
town but they also wear a peculiar dress, and are treated with the
utmost contempt. In fact, in all ways the people of the Mzab are
quite different from any other race in North Africa, and the study
of their history and customs would give material for a lengthy
book. It is hoped, however, that these few pages will enable the
traveler to realize that he is no longer among the simple Arabs of
the great plain, but in the midst of a strange people whose origin
will always remain a mystery.