King ‘Abd Al-‘Aziz in the Reports
of the American Missionaries, 1901-1921
Dr. Jerzy Zdanowski
The Arabian Mission was
established in 1889 and adopted by the Reformed Church in America. The idea of
establishing the Mission was born in the Theological Seminary of the Reformed
(Dutch) Church in America at New Brunswick, New Jersey. The Mission operated in
southern Iraq and along the Arabian shore of the Gulf. It was formally
dissolved in 1973.[i] The documents of the Mission
are very informative about social life and political events in the region
before the First World War. They also show the situation in Nejd in the
critical period of the foundation of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. Moreover,
they contain interesting information concerning the personality of King ‘Abd
al-‘Aziz.
The first references to King
‘Abd al-‘Aziz found in the archives of the Arabian Mission relate to the war
between Sheikh Mubarak of Kuwait and Sheikh ‘Abd al-‘Aziz Ibn Mut’ib Ibn Rashid
of Jabal Shammar in 1900–1901. King ‘Abd al-‘Aziz with his father ‘Abd al-Rahman Ibn
Faisal joined Mubarak against Ibn Rashid, who had occupied Riyadh after the
battle of al-Mulayda in 1891. In December 1900, having announced that he could
not abstain from hostilities while Ibn Rashid was threatening to attack Kuwait,
he placed himself at the head of his forces and marched on Central Arabia. At
the outset the campaign was a brilliant success: al-Qasim was occupied and ‘Abd
al-‘Aziz was appointed titular governor of Riyadh. On 17 March 1901, however, a
severe engagement took place at Sarif in al-Qasim, and this so far altered the
aspect of affairs that Mubarak was obliged to retreat from Nejd.[ii]
The battle of Sarif is considered one of the biggest in the
modern history of Arabia. As such it obviously attracted the common attention
of all the neighbouring regions. In Bahrain, where the Mission had a residence,
there were rumours that Mubarak was being assisted by the Turks, since they had
long desired the downfall of the independent province of Central Arabia.[iii] The forces of Mubarak and the Saudis were considered
to be stronger than the party of Ibn Rashid. There was talk that the result of
the war might be a division of Arabia into zones of influence among Turkey,
Britain and Russia. The missionaries were convinced that the cause of the
Mission would lose if the independent power of Nejd were broken. There was an
opinion that if the war spread to the coast Britain would intervene as arbiter,
since the sheikh of Kuwait had his own secret treaty with Britain. Strong
positions taken by Britain or any of the great powers in Arabia were treated as
critical factors in the establishment and development of the Arabian Mission’s
work.[iv]
The news that came to Bahrain told of a bloody slaughter of
nearly all the troops of Mubarak near Anayza: ‘‘Abd al-‘Aziz the Amir of Nejd
feigned defeat at the first encounter, and so drew Mubarak’s troops far inland
and away from their water-supplies. Then he fell on their rear with an
overwhelming force of dromedary-riders. Mubarak escaped to Kuwait. I think this
is the end of the attempt to restore Wahhabi rule in Nejd.’[v]
As we know, the expectation
was wrong:
The Arabian Mission operated in the Gulf (Kuwait, Bahrain
and Oman) and southern Iraq, and the first location of the Mission was in
Basra. This town was chosen as the best place from which to begin work in
Arabia for the time being, but from the very beginning the final goal was to
move into the interior of the Arabian peninsula.[vi] Samuel M. Zwemer, the founder of the Mission, noted
in 1901, during the so-called Kuwaiti crisis: ‘As regards the Kingdom of Christ
the independence of Kuwait or its protection by England would open a door into
Nejd.’[vii] In 1903, the
participants in the annual meeting of the Mission were convinced that the Arab
population everywhere was more and more accessible, and that a field ripe for
the harvesting was not being properly reaped for lack of hands. There was one
doctor and one clergyman in Basra, one clergyman in Nasiriyah, one clergyman in
Amarah, and one doctor in Kuwait – which
means one missionary for every 160,000 of the population.[viii]
At the 1911 annual meeting of the Mission it was decided to
establish a committee in Jeddah. The same year at the Lucknow Conference a gift
from one of the delegates for the Jeddah fund was received, and it was decided
that a missionary should visit Jeddah and report to the Mission about the
possibility of establishing a station in that city. In spite of the fact that
the report was not favourable, Zwemer was not discouraged. He was deeply
convinced that since the foundation of the Mission much had taken place in
Arabia and in the Moslem world to change conditions. ‘Turkish power and
prestige have waned’ – he wrote in 1913. ‘Through contacts with Aden, Egypt and
India the Arabs have learned much, and the aftermath of the recent events in
Turkey has broken pride rather than awakened fanaticism.’[ix]
Another possibility, that of establishing work in Eastern
Arabia and Ha’il, the capital of the al-Rashid in Jabal Shammar, was chosen.
Contacts with the Rashids were made through the Kuwaiti Station in 1918–19. In the medical report of Stanley Mylrea for 1918–1919 we read: ‘Sheikh Salim, in opposition to Bin Saud is
courting Bin Rashid and we are thus beginning to form what I trust are valuable
connections with Hail.’ Mylrea continued: ‘Nothing approaching an invitation to
that Capital is yet forthcoming, however, and one man who at first I thought
might do something, eventually put me off by saying that I was doing such valuable
work here that I surely would be unable to leave it.’[x] Mylrea received an invitation to visit Ha’il in 1921
with a view to establishing a medical mission there, and this was reported to
the British Political Agent in Kuwait and the High Commissioner in Baghdad.
James Cantine, the Mission Secretary, who was residing in Baghdad at that
juncture, was called in by the British authorities and informed that ‘Saudi–Kuwaiti tensions were embarrassment enough, without adding
to them a serendipitous scheme hatched by a naive American for encouraging the
Rashids.’[xi]
Kuwait played for some time a principal role in developing
the Mission’s contacts with King ‘Abd al-‘Aziz. It was a commercial hub with
many routes of access into the interior deserts. The close relations between
Mubarak and King ‘Abd al-‘Aziz could well help the missionaries in opening a
door into the interior of Arabia. Members of the Saudi family availed
themselves of the medical services provided by the Mission in Kuwait on many
occasions. A man who promoted friendly relations between the Mission and King
‘Abd al- ‘Aziz was Stanley Mylrea. He met ‘Abd al-‘Aziz al-Saud in the desert
in the spring of 1914, early in his stay in Kuwait, and this was an encounter
that shaped his deep and abiding respect for the king. King ‘Abd al-‘Aziz was
perceived in those days as a rising Arab leader. In 1912 he expelled the Turks
from al-Hasa, the eastern part of the peninsula, and established his position
as imam of the Ikhwan. He moved into the vicinity of Kuwait city, where a
special conference on the extension of the Baghdad railway to Kuwait was to be
held by him, Mubarak, the British, and the Turks. When a fever struck the Saudi
camp ‘Abd al-‘Aziz sent a request to Mubarak that an American doctor should
come and treat the sick. Mylrea was duly sent. After he had done what he could
do medically he reported to the Amir, and they fell into a long discussion on
medicine. It turned out that ‘Abd al-‘Aziz was well versed in classical Arab
medical theory, particularly that of Avicenna (Ibn Sina).
As the discussion proceeded I
ventured to suggest that the spiritual side of the doctor’s work was even more
important than the physical side. King ‘Abd al-‘Aziz agreed with me. Then we
went on to say that medicine was a prime requirement for humanity. It was then
that I said to him:
‘Why don’t you let
us to come to Riyadh and build you a hospital?’
‘Doctor’, he said,
‘let me tell you a story. The Angel Gabriel was once standing at the Gate of
Paradise when a believer arrived and asked to be admitted. Gabriel questioned
the man a while and then said to him: “You may enter, but before you do, you
must first sacrifice a sheep to the big golden statue you see to one side of
the gates.” “I asked pardon of Allah,” came back the answer. “I am no idolater.
I do not sacrifice to idols.” “Well, well,” allowed Gabriel, “a sheep is a big
thing to insist on. What about a fowl?” “It makes no difference,” vociferated
the applicant for admission. “I do not sacrifice to idols.” “Not even a fly?” queried
Gabriel. “If you offer a fly, you will satisfy the letter of the law and can go
in.” “Never, never, never!” shouted the poor man. “There is no God but Allah
and Muhammad is his prophet.” As he said these words, a booming voice rang out
from the distance. “Admit him, he is a true believer.”’
‘Do you see what I
mean?’ went on King ‘Abd al-‘Aziz. ‘In Central Arabia we are not only men of
one religion, we are all members of the same sect of that religion. I know
perfectly well that if you missionaries come into my territory and settle there
you will come with your special message and your books. Men’s minds will become
unsettled and I shall have trouble. No. Not even a fly will I offer to any
other religion. When I need you I will send for you, but I cannot invite you to
live permanently in my country.’[xii]
The words of King ‘Abd al-‘Aziz were considered a fair
and clear statement of his position with respect to the Mission.
The first visit of the American missionaries to Riyadh took
place in 1921. In November Dr Louis Paul Dame was asked to come to the capital
with two Muslim assistants. They left Bahrain in a native sailing boat to
al-Uqair, and then rode on donkeys to al-Hufuf. From Hasa they travelled on
camels to Riyadh, and a week and a day later they came to the capital. Dame was
impressed by the city, enclosed by a square mud wall about twenty feet high
with many small loopholes for rifles. Four gates, one on each side, permitted
entrance. In his judgement the permanent population was approximately 3,000,
with a very large floating populace.
Dame was impressed even more by the appearance and
personality of King ‘Abd al- ‘Aziz. ‘Sheikh Abdul Aziz is by far the finest
Arab I have met. He is at least six feet two, powerfully built, possessing a
most intelligent face and a very charming smile. He is most kindly in his
bearing. There is never any mistaking the man. And he is not an idler.’[xiii]
Dame admits that the Sultan was the busiest of men, and his
governing had much of the old patriarchal stamp. Sitting in a majlis, he
received his subjects, rich and poor, Bedouin or townsmen, who presented their
troubles or gifts. He spent also much time in his office, where he kept four
secretaries, and read the official mail and dictated his responses and decrees.
The floating population made up of Bedouin came and went daily in large and
small groups from all parts of King ‘Abd al-‘Aziz’s realm, and gifts were
bestowed upon them with a lavish hand. All dined at the sheikh’s expense, and
gifts of rice, dates and dihn (clarified butter) were given upon their
departure. In one of the rooms of the castle Dame was shown eighteen large
tanks, each about five feet in diameter and six feet in height, every one full
of dihn. In a courtyard adjoining this room was a large cauldron full of dihn
with a fire beneath it constantly, from which skins and tins were filled for
departing guests.[xiv]
Two things stood out prominently to a stranger – it was a
city of idlers, and the Ikhwan were the predominating influence. That was the
time when the Ikhwan movement was growing in strength. Not too long before
Kuwait had been attacked. There were rumours of a move on Ha’il, and reports of
the attack on Ta’if. That meant that the Ikhwan were reaching out in all
directions. ‘The Arabs are usually noted for their hospitality, but most of
those I met in Riyadh were anything but hospitable to me, a kaffir. At the
house of a little girl, for instance, my greetings and farewells were never
answered. A like spirit was constantly shown by the townspeople when I met them
on the street. True, some would greet me cordially, but most of them, even
though I treated them daily in the hospital, would turn their heads as I passed
by, or conveniently not hear my greetings, or probably mumble something to
themselves. This attitude is partly due to their fear of the Ikhwan’[xv] – concludes Dame.
Dame spent six weeks in Riyadh, and one of his tasks was to
make almost daily calls at the castle to treat members of the sheikh’s family.
Many of them came to Dame’s clinic in the evening because they could not have
the people of the town see that they had gone to see a doctor who was not a
Muslim: ‘I might say that the Sheikh himself once visited the hospital and his
sons were there several times to see me professionally.’[xvi]
The second visit of doctor Dame to Riyadh took place in
1923. On 6 November he left Bahrain with four hospital helpers and some thirty
boxes of hospital supplies, and drugs, including a knockdown operating table,
dressing tables, and folding chairs. On the second day out they were met at
al-Hufuf by two dispatch riders from Riyadh with a letter for Dame, stating
that the Sultan was very ill, and urging him to come with all possible speed.
Dame therefore picked out some necessary drugs, and with one of the dispatch riders
and one assistant started on ahead. That evening they rode till midnight, and
the next two days they were some fifteen hours in the saddle, and arrived in
Riyadh on the afternoon of the third day.
Dame was at once ushered into the Sultan’s chamber, and
found him to be suffering from a severe abscess of the face. One side of his
face was immensely swollen, his eye was closed, and his lips were so thick that
he could hardly speak – he was altogether a very sick man. Fortunately he
responded very readily to treatment, so that on the sixth day after Dame’s
arrival he held a public reception, which was attended by several thousand
people. When Dame left Riyadh on 30 December the Sultan was in very fair
health. He had practically regained his normal weight, and was again doing his
usual amount of work. ‘He again spoke and laughed with his usual zest, so you
may discredit the stories circulated about his cancer, tuberculosis, etc.’[xvii]
Dame admits in his report that the most remarkable thing
about Riyadh was the difference in the attitude of the people. Three years
earlier he had seldom walked the street without being called kaffir. This time
he never heard the term. Greetings were not profuse, but yet some at least
greeted him more or less cordially on the streets. He had daily visitors at his
room in the castle, including members of the royal family, scribes of King ‘Abd
al-‘Aziz, other members of the court and servants of lesser standing as well.
He freely walked the street unmolested, though some of the servants were
appointed to accompany him whenever he went out in the evening. Medically, he
was very busy. He gave 3,374 treatments in Riyadh in 28 working days, did 36
major operations, and gave 15 neo-salvarsan injections. [xviii]
In trying to analyse the
difference between the attitude of the people in 1923 and that with which Dame
met during the previous trip three years before, we can come to the following
conclusions:
Firstly, by autumn 1923 the Ikhwan movement was on the
wane. It was not dead, nor was it yet dying, but it had lost a good deal of its
energy. To keep a movement at white heat there must be a constant objective;
the force must be kept active. Politically, the Sultanate of Nejd had reached
its boundaries, and at that moment found itself blocked. The lust for war and
plunder that had been a great part of the Ikhwan movement could no longer be
satisfied. The Bedouin found themselves without the occupation they had had for
some time. There was a large number of Ikhwan settlements in Nejd, where some
cultivation was carried on. Aid from the Sultan in the form of rice and wheat
was usually sent to the settlements.
Another conclusion is that Nejd was getting used to
the ways of the foreigner, and especially to medicine. That had been the second
medical tour Dr Dame had made to Nejd, and a number of Nejdis had been treated
in the Mission’s hospitals in Kuwait and Bahrain. Dame highlights the fact that
the Nejdis accepted benefits, even if they did not approve of the benefactors.
Besides, other foreigners had visited Nejd during the few years before this,
among them H. St J. Philby, who made an extensive tour in 1917, Colonel
Hamilton, who visited Riyadh about the same time, and in 1922 Amin Rihani, who
travelled in al-Aridh, al-Washm and al-Qasim.
Another factor also
probably worked to Dame’s personal advantage at that time. Dame indicates that
King ‘Abd al-‘Aziz had been quite ill, and various conflicting rumours were
abroad. When it became known that a doctor from Bahrain, the same one who had
earlier treated the Sultan for his throat trouble, was in attendance, and that
the Sultan was about to get well again in a short time, a certain respect was
shown the American, for King ‘Abd al-‘Aziz was both loved and feared in Nejd.