Page 32 - Personal Column (Charles Belgrave)_Neat

The country Kadhi was a one-eyed old gentleman from Katif, a town
of which arc rather wasted as only women arc allowed to see the bride.
on the Saudi Arabia coast with a predominant Shia population. He had a
wrinkled, yellow face, like a gnome in an Arthur Rackham illustration,
and his hand shook so much that he could hardly keep the coffee in his
cup, but he had a great reputation for sanctity and learning. He was a
humorous old man and his one eye used to wink merrily while he talked;
I often rode along the shore on my pony to his little house close to the
sea to drink coffee with him, in spite of the fact that, when I left, the cup
which I had used was always broken, to ensure that no true believer drank
from a cup which had been used by an infidel. However, in spite of my
being an infidel, the old man consulted me about his domestic affairs and
asked me to be one of the executors of his will.
It was at this time that the Government took an important step by
placing the administration of Shia Waqf property, which had been dealt
with by the Kadhis, in the hands of an elected council of town and village
Shias. This was a popular move as in the past much of the proceeds from .
the property, gardens, houses, fish traps and shops, which had been be­
queathed by Shias in the past for religious purposes, had not been spent
on the objects for which it was dedicated. The Shia Waqf Department, as
it became later, was such a success that after ten years, in response to a
demand from the Sunnis, a similar council was set up to administer the
Sunni Waqf property. These changes, which were at the time revolution­
ary, could not have been achieved without the support of the public.
One of the effects which they had was to diminish the prestige of the
Kadhis, who no longer controlled a vast amount of valuable property
but who now became, for the first time, salaried government officials, as
they are in most of the more progressive Arab states. Afterwards I some-
times regretted having been instrumental in making these changes, for
perhaps if the Kadhis had retained their authority they might have played
a useful part during the troublesome times in later years. By then they
had become figures of no political importance.
Soon after we got back there were a number of weddings in the
Shaikh’s family to which Marjorie and I were invited. The daughters of
the Khalifah never married outside the family. Political alliances like those
which took place in Saudi Arabia were not customary in Bahrain and
when a young man of the Ruling Family took a wife he usually, but not
invariably, married his first cousin. Today weddings are comparatively
simple affairs. Often when the daughters of merchants marry they do so,
as they say, lett moda\ in the mode, which means a white wedding dress
from Beirut or from London, a veil, orange blossom and bridesmaids, all
5 <5
But twenty-five years ago a wedding in an important and wealthy family
was a very splendid affair.
The first wedding which we attended was in Muharraq, where most of
the Khalifah Shaikhs had their houses. In later years many of the younger
men built houses in the suburbs of Manama. We crossed to Muharraq in
a launch and drove out to the plain behind the town where a crowd of
people were assembled to watch the riding and dancing. The men of the
family and their retainers were dressed in their most colourful robes, some
wearing loqg undercoats of vermilion, green and scarlet with white or
coloured headcloths and brown or black cloaks. They carried swords and
daggers, long ffmtlock Arab guns and sometimes spears. The horsemen,
led by one of the senior members of the family, first cantered and then
galloped up and down the course, flourishing their weapons and uttering
shrill shouts. Most of them rode bareback, but a few of them had heavy
Arab saddles with gaily embroidered saddle-cloths decorated with
coloured tassels; some of the best riders performed tricks as they rode,
displaying skill and horsemanship.
We walked over to another part of the plain to watch the dancing.
There were two long lines of men, every man carrying a gun or a sword;
the lines of men advanced and retired with short shuffling steps, chanting
as they moved, swaying and bending in time to the drums and letting orf
their guns into the air, which caused a great deal of noise and a strong
smell of gunpowder. In another part of the field a circle of men sur-
rounded the red-and-whitc Bahrain flag, which was carried on a long
pole. Every now and then two men would leap into the centre of the
circle and perform a mimic fight, springing and jumping like acrobats
and slashing and lunging at each other, but carefully avoiding doing any •
damage. At sunset the dancers dispersed and assembled again in one of
the houses of the family where they, and many other people, enjoyed a
feast of rice and mutton.
On the final night, called by the Arabs ‘the night of entering’, the
father of the bridegroom gave a dinner party for men, but Marjorie was
invited at the same time to visit the bride. After the usual rice and mutton
dinner, without any frills, we walked solemnly in procession, led by the
Shaikh, through narrow lanes and streets, preceded by men carrying
lanterns, to the house of the bride. The street in front of the house was
packed with men dancing and inside one could hear the sound of women
singing. We walked through two courtyards full of people, and climbed
some steep narrow stairs to the bridal chamber, which was an island room
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