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REVIEWS

Perhaps more contentious are the sections dealing with al-Baqir’s views on the
nature of the Imamate and his contribution to Shi{i theology and jurisprudence.
The author readily acknowledges the problem of authenticating the material deal-
ing with these issues as provided by the early sources. This is indeed a key difficulty
in studies of this nature and one may well enquire into the criteria adopted for as-
sessing the veracity of the information. On this, the author remarks that ‘In the case
of al-Baqir, even if certain traditions from him are spurious, we should not discard
his entire tradition as fictitious. The approach employed in this study is that of ju-
dicious use rather than outright rejection’. (p. 19) By ‘judicious use’ is meant that
in dealing with traditions ascribed to al-Baqir ‘theological language which is identi-
fiably later than his own is never attributed to him, nor are theological views that
are clearly different from those of his time. It would therefore be justified to con-
clude that these traditions represent views actually held by al-Baqir’ (p. 95). This is
a most interesting and crucial point, and certainly deserves full treatment as a pre-
requisite to examining the views that al-Baqir is alleged to have propounded. Are
we to accept on trust that this analysis has taken place? The author’s methods of
source-criticism need to be fully documented, firstly in order to satisfy the more
sceptical reader, and secondly so as to serve as a model for other researchers into
early Islamic thought. In fact, the author seems mostly to accept the statements at-
tributed to al-Baqir at face value, typically prefacing them with such as ‘al-Baqir
says’, ‘al-Baqir’s views are’, ‘al-Baqir maintains’.
A more sceptical observer might need further convincing that the traditions at-
tributed to al-Baqir actually represent his views and that he is not being used as an
unimpeachable authority to validate the ideas of others, as his son the Imam Ja{far
al-∑adiq undoubtedly was. It could be suggested that these traditions tell us more
about doctrinal formulations of a subsequent period than they do of al-Baqir. As
the author says, ‘it should be borne in mind that these traditions represent not only
the beliefs of the Muslims of the time but they constitute a mirror in which the Shi{i
consciousness revealed its own aspirations’. (p. 19) (my italics)
Despite the reservations outlined above, the book is useful as an introduction to
Shi{i thought, outlining key concepts in doctrine. One can only hope that it is fol-
lowed by other works focussing on the early history of Shi{ism. In particular, since
the contribution of al-Baqir laid ‘the foundations upon which his son and successor
Ja{far al-∑adiq (d.148/765), built the impressive edifice of Shi{i law and theology’ a
monograph on al-∑adiq is awaited with keen anticipation.
UNIVERSITY OF MANCHESTER RON BUCKLEY

CLIVE SMITH, Lightning over Yemen: A History of the Ottoman Campaign (1569-71)
being a translation from the Arabic of Part III of al-Barq al-Yamani fi al-FatÌ al-
{Uthmani by Qu†b al-Din al-Nahrawali al-Makki as published by Îamad al-Jasir
(Riyadh, 1967). Translation, with introduction and notes, by Clive K. Smith (Li-
brary of Ottoman Studies 3). I.B. Tauris, London and New York 2002. Pp. xiii +
226, 50 plates, 3 maps and 3 plans. Price: £45.00. ISBN: 1-86064-836-3.
CAESAR E. FARAH, The Sultan’s Yemen: Nineteenth-Century Challenges to Ottoman
Rule. (Library of Ottoman Studies 1). I.B. Tauris, London and New York 2002.
Pp. xxii + 392, 2 maps. Price: £39.50. ISBN: 1-86064-767-7.
The two books under review form volumes 1 and 3 of a new Tauris series, the Li-
brary of Ottoman Studies. The Ottomans entered the Yemen in 1538, there to re-
main for over one hundred years. Their second occupation was between the years
1849–1914. These books are studies concerning each one of these periods of domi-

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nation and I take them in chronological, rather than numerical, order and begin
with Clive Smith’s sixteenth century text.
The Ottomans entered the Yemen in 1538 in response to the increasing interfer-
ence of the infidel Portuguese who not only threatened the traditional Middle East-
ern trade routes, but who also, in their religious zeal, appeared determined to inter-
fere in the Muslim Holy Cities of the Hejaz. In particular by their activities in and
around Aden, the main port and gateway to Arabia, they threatened the position of
the Turks as guardians of the Muslim Middle East. By the time our story opens,
1569, however, Ottoman influence in the Yemen had been reduced to very little in
the face of overwhelming opposition from the local Yemeni tribesmen. To be more
precise, they held a small enclave around and about the Tihamah town of Zabid. It
was at this stage that the Ottoman vizier, Sinan Pasha, was appointed by the Porte
to seize the province back from the Zaydi imam, Mu†ahhar, who with his tribal
forces had been at the forefront of the rebellion. Smith’s book covers the subsequent
attempts by the Turks to win back the Yemen between the years 1569–71, the latter
year being the date of Sinan Pasha’s departure from the Yemen; it is a translation of
the third part of al-Nahrawali’s Arabic chronicle, al-Barq al-Yamani.
The author is of great interest, I would suggest, for two major reasons: his at
times almost incredible bias in favour of the Ottomans (and to a lesser extent in
favour of the Meccan sharifs) and his equally incredible bias against the Zaydi
imam and his followers; and secondly, the breath-taking language and style of the
Barq, surely unique in Arabian — perhaps even Arabic — historiography. I shall
return to both below. Nahrawali, as his nisbah suggests, came from an Indian family
of Nahrawalah in Gujerat, but he spent most of his life in Mecca where he led the
life of scholar and mufti. He spoke Turkish and hobnobbed with the glitterati of
the Porte’s officials. Among these, he met Sinan Pasha who commissioned him to
compose the Barq and the latter (and other high Turkish officials, no doubt) pro-
vided him with much detail of the military and political exploits of the Turks in the
Yemen, thus enabling Nahrawali to write the book. The history therefore represents
an authoritative account of the happenings involving the Turks in the Yemen —
authoritative, but nevertheless written uncompromisingly for Turks and from the
viewpoint of Turks. He died in 990/1582.
Smith uses the printed version ‘supervised’ by Îamad al-Jasir, the Saudi
scholar, and published in Riyadh in 1967. Even al-Jasir himself does not call this
text an ‘edition’, nor does he claim the title ‘editor’. This is perhaps just as well.
There are many MSS of the Barq and Jasir managed to track down and use no
fewer than three which had been personally presented to high Ottoman officials
by the author in his own lifetime, one being that given by him to Sinan Pasha.
Jasir adds a fourth and tells us that these are the MSS on which the printed text is
based. There is, however, no apparatus criticus. There are rare footnotes, the odd
reference, the odd explanation. One is therefore obliged to conclude that Jasir
simply cobbled the text together from the four MSS he employs. Since there is so
much contemporary MS evidence, and despite the lack of a critical apparatus, the
text reads well and it is seemingly devoid of much and serious error. It is certainly
a text which one can use with care and caution in order to produce an annotated
translation.
Everything about this annotated translation is of first class quality. The introduc-
tion (pp. 1–12) is brief, though to the point. I personally would have liked to have
heard a little more about the text on which the translation is based and also about
the historical background — perhaps a brief survey of the period of Ottoman in-
volvement in the Yemen prior to 1569. Smith, having made sure that he under-
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stands the Arabic, proceeds with consumate skill to confront Nahrawali’s elusive saj{
and stamp his own style on the English translation:
With his fine intelligence the minister realised that sections of the army might
lose their way during the journey and follow their own inclination. He there-
fore went himself to the head of the convoy and cautioned them against get-
ting out of hand and breaking ranks. He travelled with the army, its contrast
in colour, its plumes and its chain mail, its standards and its shields, its flash-
ing swords and its scabbards, its spears and its sabres, and its brave hearts and
pedigree horses. Nights of battle were adorned with stars struck through the
clash of sword blades. Herds of horses stemmed the flow of blood. Clouds of
arrows from both earth and sky showered upon the people of Thula and
Kawkaban. (p. 19)
As the sun drew the clarity of its light against the forces of the dark and, in
true meaning, spread from the horizon to conquer the army of the night, it
filled furthest horizons with light and splendour; and the only darkness was
that of the hair of buxom young girls and the kohl used to fard their eyes!
Only then did the minister, sitting in the heart of his high diwan among the
commanders, the senior and the worthy, give orders to two of the official or-
derlies known for their intelligence and gravity, and their good manners and
courtesy. (pp. 32–3)
Nahrawali’s extraordinary pro-Turkish, anti-Zaydi bias is well illustrated in the
translation that follows, the Turks being the heroes of Sunni Islam, the Zaydis the
infidels bound for hell-fire; other features, common throughout the Barq, are tau-
tology and antithesis:
The infidels kept up the fight and battle, the confrontation and killing, the
engagement and resistance, the suffering and perseverance, until there was no
fight in them and they became a target for arrows and spears once the wall was
breached and an attack launched. Those who could took to flight while the
rest were dispatched to hell-fire. A devastating battle was fought until the end
of the day when fighters were tired and weary and weapons clapped out and
finished. The sultan’s sanjak was raised over the wall and the place was radiant
with light after its deviance in apostasy from the splendour of Islam and the
Sunnah. For God determines events: to Him are due thanks at the beginning
and at the end, and for Him is Judgment Day. (p. 104)
Smith’s annotations (in the form of endnotes) are inobtrusive and to the point,
dished up too, I would suggest, in the right quantities, and filled with useful infor-
mation and helpful to the reader. Places, very often tramped over and photo-
graphed by the translator himself, are well documented and are complemented by
the three excellent maps and fort plans. Persons are identified and commentaries
where necessary are forthcoming, the latter including some excellent military and
political appraisals and, most importantly in view of the bias of the Barq, keeping
the reader abreast with the Zaydi version of events, in particular with reference to
Ghayat al-amani.
The book is greatly enhanced by the series of black and white and coloured photo-
graphs assembled by the translator. He has sought to illustrate the sixteenth century
Ottoman as best he can and his own photographs of military installations and strong-
holds featured in the text are extremely valuable. In this regard, contrasting this book
with Farah’s below which contains none, one is struck even more how effective pho-
tographs are in brightening up a book and presumably in helping to sell it!
What next for the translator? There remains much yet to tap in the Barq and
Smith has published other translations from the text elsewhere (for example,
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‘Suleyman Pasha’s Lost Opportunity in India [an annotated translation of Qu†b al-
Din MuÌammad b. AÌmad al-Nahrawali al-Makki, al-Barq al-yamani fi al-fatÌ al-
{uthmani, chapters 1–8]’ in J.F. Healey and V. Porter [eds], Arabian Studies in Hon-
our of Professor G. Rex Smith [JSS Supplement 14, Oxford 2002], 243–73) which
gives us hope for even more to come. Having read this translation and noted his
references to contemporary events in the Zaydi sources, it seems to me that a com-
panion volume (perhaps in the same Tauris series!) devoted perhaps to an even
longer, if not the entire, period of the Turkish occupation, an annotated translation
of these same Zaydi sources in detail, would be very well worthwhile.
We now leap in time to the second Ottoman occupation of the Yemen and to
Farah’s book concerning the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. The author begins
with a brief introduction which I find a little disappointing with its paucity of
dates, in particular for the earlier period, and one or two statements of dubious va-
lidity. The Ayyubids and Rasulids were not ‘local dynastic rulers’, though the
Tahirids certainly were (p. xii)! The former were Kurds and the latter Turks. Per-
haps it would have been neater to list them in chronological order: Ayyubids,
Rasulids and Tahirids, and provide dates — and incidentally a better idea of chro-
nology in the earlier period of the introduction generally.
Farah picks up the story proper with the well known Anglo-Ottoman confronta-
tion at Mocha, 1817–22, about which he has written previously. That and the Brit-
ish arrival in Aden in 1839 to challenge even more seriously Ottoman authority in
the Yemen take up the first two introductory chapters of the book. From then on
we have a meticulous catalogue of military, political and administrative endeavour
on the part of the Turks in the Yemen until the final settlement between the Porte
and the Zaydi imam in October 1911. To be sure, it does not make for exciting
reading, but it is a remarkable piece of research (or more accurately, series of pieces
of research) and it sometimes seems that no battle, no siege, no political manoeu-
vre, no administrative reform (the Ottomans were good at administrative reform!)
and no change of official has escaped the author’s eagle eye. And he includes all the
major players in the Red Sea game of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries:
not only the Ottomans themselves and the Yemenis, but also the British, the Ital-
ians, the Germans, the Egyptians and to a less extent the French. He has in the
main relied on Ottoman archives (a point to which I shall return later), though
Egyptian, French, German, British and Yemeni sources have also been tapped.
One or two remarks on the text of the book would perhaps be in order here. The
two maps provided (pp. xxi, xxii) I find less than adequate and at times larger scale
area maps would have been helpful to the reader who is trying to follow a compli-
cated military campaign. In any case, the map on p. xxi, while useful in that it con-
tains Istanbul and the Yemen together on the same page, is extremely small and
cluttered with unnecessary place names of no relevance to the text of the book. The
second (p. xxii) is better, but a concentration on the places mentioned in the text
would have improved it considerably.
I found it difficult at first to accustom myself to the frequent declarations of the
legitimacy of Ottoman rule over the Yemen. Surely the author is expressing the
Ottoman point of view, not his own, and should have stressed the point to his read-
ers. And yet at times one has to wonder and the following quotations are interesting
in this regard. ‘The sovereign rights of the Ottomans were acquired by conquest in
1539 during the sultanate of Suleiman the Magnificent and reinforced by Sinan
Pasa … in 1569.’ (p. 14) ‘…without reference to Ottoman sovereign rights over the
region.’ (p. 30) ‘…by challenging Ottoman sovereign rights.’ (p. 32) ‘Instability in
Yemen and rivalries among tribal leaders and regional chiefs obliged the Ottomans
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to take matters directly into their own hands. …these rivalries … impelled the Ot-
tomans to return to the Tihamah in 1849 after an absence of nearly two centuries.’
(my italics, p. 58) And yet, ‘The main reason to regain effective control of Yemen
was to prevent foreign powers, especially Great Britain and Italy, penetrating this
significant corner of the Ottoman Empire.’ (p. 80) ‘… the Ottomans wanted … to
reassert their sovereign rights in the face of the British challenge.’ (p. 82) One could
continue in this vein. One hopes this is nothing more than the expression of the
Ottoman position on the question of what they were doing in the Yemen. Had the
Ottomans really in those days any more authority and right to intervene in the
Yemen than the British in Aden and the south, or indeed the Italians in Africa? To
everyone except the Turks, their occupation of the Yemen was a colonial adventure
pure and simple.
What were the Turks doing precisely in the Yemen anyway? This is a thought-
provoking book and that is the primary thought it provokes in me, a thought
which returns on every page. Did any more than a handful of Porte officials believe
in ‘the Ottomans’ special position in Arabia, the cradle of Islam, and the status of
the sultan (Ottoman) as successor to the Prophet and head of the universal
caliphate, protector of the holy sites.’? Very few of the Yemenis wanted them there,
the exceptions being those directly benefiting from the bribes and handouts avail-
able. The Turkish troops were under-paid, if they were paid at all, and morale was
exceedingly low. Many too were Arabs from other Ottoman provinces and the last
thing they wanted was to travel far from home in order to fight fellow Arabs in the
Yemen. Certainly, there was no financial gain to the state to keep an Ottoman pres-
ence in the country. ‘…Yemen, where the current management of finances was fail-
ing to yield the revenues expected let alone those needed to meet administrative
expenses there.’ (p. 112) The Yemen clearly yielded no profit to the Ottoman em-
pire; on the contrary, it was a country where ends could not be made to meet and
Ottoman activities there were a series of very expensive adventures which achieved
nothing for them and, one is compelled to conclude, little more for the Yemenis.
‘The cost of fighting rebellion … averaged between 15,000 and 20,000 liras a
month, a considerable drain on the treasury when, as the maliye naziri reported, the
per annum revenue of Yemen was only 450,000 liras. Even under Abdulhamid,
when the sultanate for a while controlled the whole country from {Asir to the outer
limits of Aden, Yemen generated insufficient revenue to provide for all administra-
tive expenditures.’ (p. 144) Perhaps they were motivated by strategic reasons; if so,
they paid a high price in order to secure the southern end of the Red Sea. This lat-
ter they did not of course achieve anyway, being as they were too busy in the inter-
nal affairs of the Yemen to keep an adequate eye on what other maritime powers
were doing in the area. They could not even keep pirates at bay!
There are a few irritating matters which can perhaps be cleared up in the miscel-
lany which follows. For ‘lodge’ (p. 40, line 29), read ‘dislodge’! Zayla{ is on the Af-
rican coast, not in the Yemen (p. 68). I have talked of such terms as ‘usurped’ before
(see my ‘Yemenite History: Problems and Misconceptions’, Proceedings of the Semi-
nar for Arabian Studies 20, 1990, 131–9; for ‘usurp’, see 132). It seems to me to be
inappropriate for the context of p. 85. After all, when writing of all these Zaydi
struggles and machinations for the imamate throughout their history, on occasions
with multiple candidates, and without the help of the ballot box to guide us, can
there really be those who can be said to have been usurpers? The mountain of Ta{izz
is ∑abir (p. 93), rather than ∑abir. Glaser’s appalling error (p. 105) might have been
explained, ‘The “fanatic Sharaf al-Din’s Zaydi da{i of the Yam of Najran”…’ Yam
are, and always have been, Isma{ilis. ‘Shuqarah’ (p. 121 and passim), the Fa∂li port,
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should be ‘Shuqra’, usually spelt with alif maqÒurah. Pp. 124–5, ‘The {Awlaqis were
described as … ‘ and ‘The English described the Fa∂lis as …’ What is the source of
these descriptions? ‘Sir Elliot’ (p. 130), where ‘Elliot’ is his surname is unforgivable
and should have been spotted by a British editor at least! Jabal Nuqum is east of the
city of ∑an{a’, not south (p. 166). The Red Sea island is Dahlak, not Dalak (p. 201
and passim). The following two books might have been consulted: Government of
Bombay, An Account of the Arab Tribes in the Vicinity of Aden (Bombay 1909), and
Gordon Waterfield, Sultans of Aden (London 1968, recently reprinted, London
2002), and thus also appear in the references listed. It might appear churlish to end
with a comment on the inappropriateness of the jacket photograph which has
nothing to do with Ottoman Yemen and which, I understand, was the publisher’s
choice.
I am sorry that this appears to be such a negative review. A great service has been
rendered here and the period of Yemenite history, ca. 1817–1911, a period in
which the Ottomans, the British and the Italians in particular interfered in the
Yemen, has been covered in extraordinary breadth and depth. The study is in gen-
eral an object lesson in the handling of archives and in the subsequent writing of
history.
Finally, the publishers are to be congratulated on this new series; number 1, with
the few misgivings expressed above, and number 3 have got it off to an excellent
start. We look forward to more volumes and in particular to more volumes on
Turkish Yemen, a much neglected area of both Ottoman and Yemenite history.
UNIVERSITY OF MANCHESTER G. REX SMITH

GORDON WATERFIELD, Sultans of Aden. With an envoi by Stephen Day, CMG


(Orient Folio Masterworks). Stacey International, London 2002. Pp. xiii + 300,
51 illustrations + 3 maps. Price: £22.50. ISBN: 1900988 410.
Waterfield’s book was first published in 1968 by John Murray. It is excellent news
that it has been resurrected here with the addition of an envoi, for this is quite the
best written and most readable book based almost entirely on official archives that I
have ever had the pleasure to read. The author weaves with consummate skill his
own description of events with quotations from the primary players of the drama
from their contemporary writings. This is essentially the story of two sultans:1 the
Abdali sultan of Lahej2 on the one hand who could claim authority over most of
the territory which the British finally took, and the ‘sultan’ of Aden after the British
takeover in 1839, Captain Stafford Bettesworth Haines of the Indian Navy, on the
other.
Waterfield begins with an excellent introduction to the East India Company and
steam navigation between the years 1600–1857. He then moves on to the subject
proper. Haines’ naval activities and experience in the Red Sea and Indian Ocean in
the early 1800s qualified him well to examine closely a number of ports in the area,
including the small fishing village of Aden, and to report to his masters in India
and London on the suitability or otherwise of these ports as a coaling station for
the new era of steam ships plying between Britain and India. The occupation of
Aden by the British had been contemplated even as early as the late eighteenth cen-
tury. During the 1812–14 war between Britain and North America also, fearing the
increasing economic threat from America in the area, the British again turned their
attention to Aden, but with the signing of the peace, the matter drifted into ob-
1
 More on this subject below.
2
 I spell all proper names here as they are found in the book and I do not transliterate.

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