The boatman led us to the façade of a completed mudif, where two large reed columns flanked the entrance, narrowing at the top to form a roof. Tower-like structures acted as buttressing to either side of the building, and tapered at the top where the roof sloped inward towards the apex of an arch. Strengthening bands of intertwined reed ran horizontally across the front of the structure. We were greeted by an elderly man dressed in a dark thawb, the long shirt-like dress of the islanders, more commonly known as a dishdashe.
His loosely wound kheffiyeh revealed strands of grey hair. His unkempt appearance, witness to the vicissitudes of daily life in the marshes, was clearly of little concern when there were far more pressing matters of survival to be considered. Invited to sit, we endeavored to make ourselves comfortable on the cushions that were strewn haphazardly on the sandy floor. Blocks of grey stone marked a cooking area in the center of the room where our host made coffee in a blackened pot. The room filled with the scent of the cardamom -flavored brew as he served the strong liquid in an assortment of tiny handle-less cups. Overcome with tiredness I sank back into the cushions and listened to the rustic sounds of the headman’s words as he conversed with my Arabic speaking companion.
Wilifred Thesiger spent many years living in the Marshes of Southern Iraq and became intimately acquainted with the customs of the people. The islanders grow wheat, barley and a rice which is known for its particularly good quality. Although pork and the blood of all carrion is forbidden to Muslims, Thesiger says that they were not so particular as to refuse the birds he shot down, but would take them from the water and cut their throats as they invoked the name of Allah thus rendering the birds acceptable to eat. During his time there he saw the Ma’dan or people of the Marshes, eat cormorant, ibis, heron and crane. Taboos against eating certain foods varied among the different branches of Islam and amongst the Ma’dan the consumption of pelican and stork was forbidden. Not surprisingly matt-weaving was a popular source of income for the inhabitants. Flashes of delicate light danced around the room as the sun crept out from behind cotton white clouds and pierced through the latticework, projecting its decorative pattern on the floor. If architecture is nothing but the play of light on space as Le Corbusier asserted, then here was a delightful example of this theory.
Some of the men went outside to relive themselves among the reeds and I recalled Thesiger’s account of having overheard a mother boasting of her son’s accomplishments on his return to the Marshes following a period of working in Baghdad. ‘He eats with a fork, and pees standing up’, announced the woman to her neighbours, delighted at her sons new found sophistication. Most of the people of the islands then, as in Thesiger’s time, were Shia Muslim. A small number of the craftsmen who worked in boatbuilding were Mandaeans, the last surviving adherents of Gnosticism. The majority of Mandaeans lived in the area between Baghdad and Basra, Nasiriyah being their main centre. A monotheistic group believed to be of pre-Christian origin they hold a dualistic belief in an unknowable supreme being of light that exists along with a demiurge that created an inferior material world. They believe that spiritual knowledge or gnosis is necessary in order to be free of the imperfect material world. John the Baptist is a central figure of their faith and therefore baptism is their most important ritual. They consider Abraham, Moses, Jesus and Mohammad to be false prophets and their ethics are considered to be similar to those of Judaism. Some authorities believe they represent the Essenes, the Jewish sect to which John the Baptist belonged. Identified in the Koran as Sabians, a term used in Arabic to denote a number of religions, they are also referred to as Christians of St. John. Traditionally they worked as smiths in gold, silver and iron as well as in boatbuilding.
The more recent war in Iraq reduced their numbers to 5,000 in 2007. Due to persecution by Islamic extremists most left for Syria and Jordan. With others dispersed throughout Europe, Australia and North America they are now in danger of extinction. Nathaniel Deutch a Professor of Religion bemoans the fact that out of a pitiful five hundred Iraqi refugees accepted into the United States between April 2003 and April 2007 few were Mandaeans. Writing in the New York Times he said that in spite of a commitment to accept seven thousand refugees by September 2007, less than 2,000 were actually admitted and of these there were only three Mandaean families.
In spite of the ancient credentials and the hospitality of the people who live in the marshes of southern Iraq they were treated with contempt by the ruling powers in Iraq. This was partly on account of their social customs which varied from the mainstream and where temporary marriage, long a custom amongst the Bedouin, was practiced. Showing a healthy disregard for the ruling Baathist’s the islanders harboured deserters from Saadam Hussein’s Army, which did nothing to endear them to a predominantly Sunni regime that tolerated no resistance. Speculations that the Ma’dan are of Persian origins may result from their religious associations with Shia Iran.
Even as we sat in this unique area of world heritage, plans were being made to drain the marshes where a unique way of life had continued relatively unbroken for possibly millennia. The place was pervaded with a sense of timeless nature in spite of the more recent addition of electricity carrying poles, which rose intermittently from the otherwise biblical surroundings. The plans of wanton destruction were brought to fruition the year following our visit and prior to the war of 1991 with further escalations following the Shia uprising against Saddam during that war which was so cruelly betrayed by the Allies and so brutally crushed by Saddam’s Special Forces.
Writing in Cruelty and Silence, Khanan Makiya says that during the time of the chemical bombings of Iraqi Kurdish villages, an atrocity known as the Anfal, doctors from local hospitals who treated injured insurgents and those who gave them shelter were brutally murdered. Articles that appeared in al- Thawra the official newspaper of the Baathist’s which was overseen by Saddam’s notoriously violent son Uday, characterized the Marsh Arabs as poverty-stricken and ignorant and accused them of engaging in perverse sexual practices. In spite of being sanctioned by a murdering rapist this served to debase and dehumanize the Shia community in the eyes of some Sunni Muslims.
As the draining of the marshes continued the people were displaced to other parts of the country or to internal refugee camps. Only one thousand six hundred Ma’dan were said to be living on traditional islands in 2003 and much has been lost of the former beauty of those islands that remained. Pollution of the landscape that resulted from poisoning of the waters by Saddam’s Government, along with relentless bombings by American and British warplanes not only did great damage to the people of Iraq but played havoc with the country’s wildlife. Nuha-al Radian, an Iraqi artist who published a diary of her experience throughout the bombardments of 1991, reported seeing birds flying upside down and doing ‘crazy somersaults’ as a result of the shock to their systems.
In recent years valiant efforts have been made to reverse this destruction by the Iraqi engineer Azzam Al Wash who returned from America in 2005 to the area he knew so well as a child and who reported successes of a fifty per cent return to 1970 levels by 2007. The work carried out by his team is beautifully recounted in a BBC programme narrated by David Johnson. But the marshes are again threatened by upstream dams which are preventing the spring floods from flushing out salt deposits and the restored area of marshland has been reduced to 30% affecting the wildlife and the returnees prospects of remaining.
Leaving the guesthouse, we walked to the edge of the island and watched a young boy deftly manoeuvre his small boat with a long paddle, his playmate sitting patiently at the stern. The children of these islands are said to master the skill of boat paddling before they can walk and in this environment paddling is probably more important for survival. It is likely that the progression from the use of reed bundles as a means of staying afloat to the use of rafts took place in this and similar areas across the globe in prehistoric times. For those living on floating islands the move to making crafts of reed must have been a simple and obvious next step. Nor would it be surprising if Noah’s Ark was built in this area. The Gilgamesh Epic tells us that when the great gods decided to create a flood their words were passed on by Ninigiku-Ea who said
“O Shuruppakian, son of Ubar-Tutu
Destroy the hut and build yourself an ark,
Give up your money and ask for safety;
Spurn possessions and save your life
And take with you in this ship the seed of everything that lives.”
The instructions were that the width of the ark was to equal its length suggesting a square structure. The epic tells that children brought pitch to seal the boat, which was of seven levels and that it was completed on the seventh day.
“I boarded the ship with all my family and kinsmen;
I took with me the beasts of the field and of the wilderness,
And all the workers.”
Is there anyone who can fail to see in the lyrical language of the Gilgamesh Epic the Biblical Story of Noah’s Ark ?
The young boatman dared us to try our hand at paddling and laughed impishly as my companion made a valiant effort to keep afloat in the tiny dugout. His physical closeness felt slightly unnerving after a morning when absorption in the novelty and beauty of our surroundings had created a comfortable distance between us. On the journey back to dry land we passed a floating clinic, now deserted, where I imagined groups of islanders lined up in small boats complaining of the kind of delays that are typical of the medical services of our own times. The islands were once rife with malaria and bilharzia until people were inoculated. During his long periods of residence in the 1950’s Thesiger provided much needed medicines to locals and was often called on to perform ritual circumcision on young boys. A woman holding a baby in her arms waved from one of the islands as we passed. Feeling like visiting royalty we waved back, grateful for the warm reception we had experienced during our all too short visit. Back on terra firma we struggled for a while to find our feet.
