Syria, the Land of Lebanon/Chapter 7
CHAPTER VII
THE EARTHLY PARADISE
ACCORDING to the Moslem wise men, Jebel Kasyun is a very sacred mount; for upon it Abraham dwelt when there was revealed to him the supreme doctrine of the unity of God. Long before that, however, Adam lived here: some say that he was formed from the earth of this very mountain, and that the reddish streaks upon its sides are nothing less than the indelible bloodstains of murdered Abel.
Yet as we stand by the little shrine known as the Dome of Victory, which crowns the summit, we are not thinking of ancient legends. Below us lies a scene of entrancing interest and of a peculiar beauty which is unlike that of any other beautiful prospect in the world.
Back of us are the mighty, rock-buttressed Mountains of the East, from whose sterile heart Is rent a deep, dark ravine which thunders with the cascades of the Abana. Then, issuing from its narrow defile, Abana is suddenly tamed. It spreads fan-like into seven quiet branches; and these in turn divide and subdivide into a myriad life-giving streams which sink at last in wilderness sands, but, ere they sink, make the desert to rejoice and blossom as the rose.[1]
In the foreground of the picture, Damascus seems like an immense silver spoon laid on a piece of soft, green plush. The long, slender handle, which is made up of the modern peasant-markets, stretches away two miles southward. The nearer bowl is the site of the ancient city. Above its monotonous succession of solidly massed houses are seen high, cylindrical roofs which cover the most important bazaars; in the very center stands the famous Omayyade Mosque with its splendid dome and spacious court and three lofty towers, while a multitude of other graceful minarets—it is said that they are exactly as many as the days of the year—rise above the most mysterious and fascinating of Moslem capitals. Surely the traveler must be ignorant of history and bereft of sentiment who does not feel a deep, strange thrill as he first looks upon the great city which since the dawn of history has sat in proud strength between the mountains and the desert.
From the viewpoint of physical geography, Syria is Lebanon; but politically commercially and socially, it is still true that "the head of Syria is Damascus."[2] Indeed, the city is now hardly ever called by its real name, Dimeshk. It is simply esh-Shâm—Syria!
History does not recall a time when Damascus did not nestle here among the orchards which sweep out to the edge of the desert. The Moslem tradition that it was founded by Eliezer, the chief servant of Abraham, points to far too late a date. Josephus tells us that it was built by Uz, the grandson of Shem the son of Noah, and that when Abraham came hither from Ur with an army of Chaldeans, he captured the already old capital and for a time reigned here as king of Syria.[3] "The name of Abram is even now famous in the country of Damascus," adds the Jewish historian. Eighteen hundred years later, that is still true.
Without discussing further its legendary claims to supreme antiquity, it is safe to say that Damascus is the oldest important city in the world with an unbroken history reaching to the present day. The fame of its artificers and gardeners is embodied even in our English language; for we speak of Damascus steel, the damask plum, damask rose, damask color, damask decoration and damaskeened metal-work. Many of the greatest men of earth have trodden its streets or fought before its walls or worshiped at its shrines. Abraham the Hebrew, Tiglath-pileser the Assyrian conqueror, Herod the Great, Paul of Tarsus, Khaled the "Sword of Allah," Baldwin of Flanders, Louis VII. of France, Nureddin the Syrian, Saladin the Kurd, Tamerlane the Tartar—such are only a few of the names which come to mind as we gaze upon the time-stained, battle-worn, but still rich and haughty city. To tell adequately the story of this most ancient of capitals would necessitate covering all the centuries of human history.
At the foot of the hill we shall find a tram-car waiting to take us to a modern hotel with electric lights and city-water, and in the evening we can hear a phonograph in any one of a hundred cafés, or visit moving-picture shows in the Serai Square, where a tall column commemorates the completion of the telegraph-line to Mecca. Yet, for all these recent innovations from the Western world, the real Damascus is quite unchanged. It is still the most brilliant, entrancing, fanatical and intolerant of Moslem cities, the one which best preserves the manners and customs of the early centuries of Islam. Indeed, this is to-day the typical Arabian Nights city; for Cairo, where those thrilling fairy tales were first related, is rapidly becoming Europeanized through British influence, Constantinople is thronged with Greeks and Armenians and intimidated by foreign embassies, and the glory of Baghdad has long since departed. But Haroun al-Raschid and his faithful vizier might wander through the tortuous mazes of the bazaars of Damascus and recognize hardly an essential change from the life of a Moslem capital of a thousand years ago.
Its Oriental characteristics have been thus preserved, and will doubtless be preserved for many years to come, because of all great Arabic-speaking cities Damascus is least dependent on the West. An impassable wall might cut it off entirely from intercourse with Europe, and still it would thrive and wax strong on the wealth of its own orchards and its commerce with the lands across the Syrian desert.
As we view the wide prospect from the Dome of Victory, the city seems a whitish island, half hidden by the billows of an ocean of luxuriant foliage. Far as the eye can see—far as the dim blue hills which mark the eastern horizon—the plain is flooded with leaves and blossoms. At closer view we shall recognize the fig and pomegranate, the mulberry, pistachio, peach, almond and apricot, the tall poplar and waving cypress and bending grape-vine and short, gnarled olive tree. But from Jebel Kasyun we perceive only one great expanse of warm, rich verdure; all shapes and colors are merged into a soft, level green.
Behind us rise the bare, chalky cliffs of Anti-Lebanon. Beyond those low azure hills at the east is the cruel desert. But between the mountains and the desert hills lies the hundred square miles of the Ghûta — the "Garden" of Damascus. No language is too extravagant for the Arabic writers who describe this land of fruits and flowing waters. It is "the most excellent of all the beautiful places of earth," exclaims the learned Abulfeda; and the famous geographer Idrisi says, "There are grown here all sorts of fruits, so that the mind cannot conceive the variety', nor can any comparison show what is the fruitfulness and excellence thereof, for Damascus is the most delightful of God's cities in the whole world." Indeed, this is the place which, among all the habitations of men, comes nearest to the description of the Moslem paradise —
"The people of the Right Hand!
Oh, how happy shall be the people of the Right Hand! …
In extended shade,
And by flowing waters.
And with abundant fruits,
Unfailing, unforbidden …
Gardens beneath whose shades the rivers flow."[4]
The prophet who sang thus of the celestial delights of the Faithful once stood, it Is said, on the summit of this sacred mountain and gazed with wondering admiration, as we are gazing, on the bounteous splendor of the Garden of Damascus. But Mohammed refused to go down into the city for fear lest, having tasted the joys of this earthly paradise, he might lose his desire for the heavenly.
- ↑ It is the Abana, or Barada, which waters by far the greater portion of this fertile district. The identification of the Pharpar, which Naaman mentioned also as one of the "rivers of Damascus" (II Kings 5:12), is uncertain. It may have been one of the branches into which the Abana divides as it passes through the city. More probably, however, it was the river now known as the Awaj; for this is the only other stream in the vicinity whose size is comparable to that of the Abana and, though it flows some seven miles south of Damascus, it is used for irrigating a considerable tract of the surrounding orchard-country.
- ↑ Isaiah 7:8.
- ↑ Antiquities of the Jews, 1.6.4; 1.7.2.
- ↑ The Koran, Sura 56:26f; 61:12