by Ilan Pappe
In 1798, al-Maqdasi led the popular revolt against Napoleon in Cairo. After the French troops had searched for him in vain for three days, he fled to Jerusalem. There he immediately took a wife, because he had left his family behind in Egypt and would return only after Napoleon had been driven out. In the meantime, it was feared that his presence in Jerusalem would attract the French. This fear grew when al-Maqdasi made it plain that he did not intend to remain anonymous. He was too active a man to sit still. He served as imam at Friday worship, gave lessons on the Qur’an and received from the local qadi the guardianship of some important properties of the religious authority. He spent three years in Jerusalem, during which time he helped Hassan but was also a dangerous lure to the French forces.29
Once again, as during the time of Dahir al-Umar, the city’s marginality saved it and its inhabitants from the heat of battle. Strategic considerations prompted the foreign invader to proceed elsewhere into the last stage of his failed journey of conquest.
As Karl Marx noted, a political vacuum never lasts. Indeed, no sooner had the French withdrawn than Abu Maraq of Gaza and al-Jazzar of Acre began to fight for control of Palestine. The Sublime Porte preferred Abu Maraq and handed over Jerusalem to him (together with most of al-Jazzar’s previous possessions as well as Egypt). The notables and the Husaynis leading them wished the city to belong once more to Acre’s sphere of influence. And no wonder: unlike Abu Maraq, the Grand Vizier’s protégé, al-Jazzar had never taxed them oppressively or sought to limit their power. Not wishing to enter into conflict with the powers that be, however, the notables wrote to Istanbul praising the Acre magnate and maligning the Gazan. This was a bold move, considering that Abu Maraq governed Jerusalem. Yet their position mattered, since the governor’s appointment came into force only after the notables had been informed of it. Abu Maraq was not of their class but a man of the people. During the struggle against Napoleon, he had not even approached the notables but had appealed directly to the villagers, some of whom responded to his call to mount a jihad against the invader. His demand that the notables raise a certain number of troops for the war also alienated them.30
The ignominy continued when the heads of the families and the notables were forced to hand over to the wife of the governor’s chief aide all the weapons that they had received from al-Jazzar or obtained as spoils. This humiliating scene took place in the qadi’s presence and greatly intensified the resentment against Abu Maraq. Here, too, he showed his sympathy for the lower classes. He also used his power over Egypt and the districts of Palestine to strengthen trade relations between them. While harassing Jerusalem’s notables, he wrote to the city’s merchants: ‘The evil days are over, to be followed by days of blessing and joy.’ The merchants were regarded as a lower class in Arab-Ottoman society, and most of them were non-Muslim.31
But Abu Maraq’s standing also rose and fell. In 1802, despite the Grand Vizier’s solid support, he was eventually defeated by al-Jazzar. He lost his position in Egypt to local forces and his other regions in a field battle with al-Jazzar, who simply ignored the Grand Mufti’s and Grand Vizier’s support for his foe. The alliance with the governor of Damascus gave al-Jazzar sufficient military strength to force Istanbul to give in to him, and so Jerusalem fell once again under Acre’s rule.
But only for two years. For in 1804 al-Jazzar died, and the city’s status changed again. Officially it was once more subordinated to Damascus, which received a new governor but which in reality continued to be ruled from Acre. For a brief while, the Jerusalemites even felt nostalgic for Abu Maraq, since al-Jazzar’s heir, Suleiman, immediately raised taxes. The inhabitants rebelled and – this should sound familiar by now – imprisoned the ruler’s representatives in the city fortress. In response, Suleiman dispatched the commander of his army, who sent for the ringleaders, some fifty men, on the pretext of negotiations and, having caught them, had their heads cut off in public. Suleiman was content to receive the heads, and the city became quiet. Thus neither Suleiman nor Abu Maraq looked like an attractive proposition.32
But Abu Maraq’s shadow still hung over the city, or rather over its notables, for whom he had no use. He was highly regarded in Istanbul, where it was hoped he could help create a buffer between the empire and the Wahabiyya – a Salafi movement on the Arabian Peninsula that challenged the sultans’ right to rule over the Muslim world. The notables of Jerusalem, fearful that ‘the commoner’ planned to humiliate them again, began to agitate intensively in Istanbul for their city to be ruled directly either by Acre or Damascus.
Strangely, there is no record of the Husaynis playing a significant part in the 1804 struggle between Acre and Gaza for control over Jerusalem. The family seemed anxious not to attract attention, so as to cope with whatever developments took place in the country and their city.
The qadi’s deputy, a Khalidi, wrote personally on behalf of the city’s notables to the governor of Jerusalem, appointed in al-Jazzar’s days and thus loyal to Acre, to ask him to remain in his post: ‘For fear of disorder in the collection and administration of taxes, and concerned about the need to protect the poor and weak and the general populace, the revered ulama and the notables of the city beg you to remain in your former post.’33 This intervention by the local notables was exceptional, but in the course of the nineteenth century it would become more frequent, and the Husaynis would also gradually take part in such interventions.
Only Hassan al-Husayni, by virtue of his high position, was partly involved. Fearful that Abu Maraq would penalize the city for its support for al-Jazzar, he appealed to the governor of Damascus, who was staying in Jenin during the annual tax collection. The governor hastened to reassure Hassan: ‘We are aware of your concern about the forthcoming visit of our brother, Muhammad Pasha Abu Maraq, but he will only be passing through your district. We wish to make it clear that Jerusalem is still under our [Damascus’] rule, and we have no intention of letting Abu Maraq rule over the city.’34 To further reassure the families, in 1805 the governor came to the city and publicly noted that that he was forgoing that year’s Hajj in order to visit al-Aqsa mosque. But this governor’s support proved useless: while he was visiting Jerusalem he was deposed by Istanbul.
But Abu Maraq, too, soon vanished from the scene – Suleiman had him killed in 1807. The imperial firman sent by the sultan to the notables of Jerusalem must have reassured Hassan that the bad times were over. Even if he did not agree with Suleiman that the assassination of Abu Maraq was ‘part of the jihad for Allah’,35 he must have felt greatly relieved.
In 1806, as part of the struggle in Istanbul between the religious establishment and the reforming Sultan Selim III, religious leaders such as the Grand Mufti of Istanbul began dismissing muftis throughout the empire whom they suspected of sympathizing with Selim III. Hassan was such a person. In winter 1806 came the order the Husaynis had dreaded since the unrest had begun in Istanbul. Hassan’s nephew Tahir, the current naqib, was also deposed. Fortunately for the family, the crisis lasted only a year, thanks to the help of Yusuf Kanj Pasha, the governor of Damascus at the time and an old family friend. Kanj was popularly known as ‘the Kurd’ (whether or not he himself was a Kurd, certainly his guard were Kurds).36 In the family’s collective memory, he occupies a very favorable place. He was indeed a real friend of the family, an ally who helped them to pass in relative calm the twilight zone between the rule of Acre and the old-new rule of Damascus.37
Kanj persuaded the Grand Mufti that the Husaynis were perfectly devout Muslims who would never have supported the former sultan if they had realized that he proposed to violate the sanctity of their religion and tradition. There was some truth to this argument, because the family’s loyalty to Selim III stemmed not so much from enthusiasm for his innovations or for the ideas of the French Revolution as from traditional loyalty to the head of the Muslim world.38
The year 1808 was the last of Hassan al-Husayni’s life, and it was as tumultuous as all the rest. The summer had been unusually hot
, and in September the Church of the Holy Sepulchre went up in flames – one more chapter in the endless feuds among the rival Christian denominations in Jerusalem. This time the struggle for control over the church reached new heights. The blaze broke out in the middle of a thronged service. The place was more crowded than usual, and an Armenian pilgrim set the place on fire – whether by accident or by design is not known. The unusual crowding was due to that year’s great increase in the number of pilgrims, who almost outnumbered the locals.39
The blaze revealed the strength of the Husaynis’ position. Hassan was the mufti, and Umar had just been appointed as naqib al-ashraf, replacing his grandfather. They were asked to spend the night in tents in the churchyard in order to prevent looting. They responded willingly and showed that their mere presence in the place ensured obedience to the Prophet’s commandment to respect the Christian ‘People of the Book’. They also benefited from the reconstruction of the church, which began immediately and as always in those days entailed bribery to everyone authorized to approve the reconstruction of Christian houses of worship – namely, representatives of the Ottoman government and the Husaynis.
The era of Hassan ended. His fascinating personality is crucial to an understanding of how and why the Husaynis came to be the leading family in Palestine throughout the nineteenth century and the first half of the twentieth century. Almost every contemporary testimony about prominent persons in the region, including Egypt, mentions Hassan as an important religious scholar and a charismatic figure who maintained exceptional contacts with the intellectual elites of Syria and Egypt. It was he who succeeded in keeping the three most important posts in his family and who created a solid structure that would crumble only in 1948, when all of Arab Palestine fell.
The three religious posts remained in the family after his death. His nephew Tahir, inherited the post of mufti of Jerusalem, while Hassan’s other position as sheikh al-haram was passed to the grandson of his other brother Abdullah, Umar, who had already been appointed naqib al-ashraf during Hassan’s lifetime (in 1800). As before, the three most important positions in the city were held by two members of the Husayni family.
While the post of mufti was higher in the Ottoman hierarchy than the other position and would make its holder the more powerful member of the family, most people regarded the naqib al-ashraf as the head of the family. It is hard to know in the case of Tahir and Umar who was the informal head. As it happened, Tahir’s great learning made him the dominant figure. The records of the Shari‘a court in Jerusalem note: ‘We have elected Tahir because of his great learning and wisdom, and his outstanding service of the ifta’ – meaning that he had made brilliant decisions on problems of religious practice and questions posed by the faithful.40 Even in Hassan’s lifetime, and doubtless under his influence, Tahir spent several years at Cairo’s al-Azhar University, where he acquired his vast knowledge. He was often seen sitting in a corner of the Dome of the Rock – the corner facing the Mount of Olives was his favorite – teaching students the Qur’an and its interpretations.41 Umar, by contrast, was the worldlier of the two and took little interest in spiritual matters. As leaders, they formed an unusual team.
Umar acted as guardian of his grandfather Hassan’s young children – that is, Umar’s uncles and aunts, who were also his second cousins. As a result, Hassan’s own offspring had no share in the public honors. But Umar kept his promise to his grandfather and made sure that the ‘Hassans’ among the Husaynis would return to the center of the public stage no less than the descendants of Abdullah.
By now the family was clearly made up of two branches – the ‘Tahiri’ one, which would retain the mufti’s post down to al-Hajj Amin al-Husayni, and the ‘Umari’ one, which would inherit the niqaba until the position lost its meaning with the end of Ottoman rule. The two branches were independent families who maintained their unity by marriage, inheritance and solidarity. Whenever the naqib and the mufti cooperated vis-à-vis the central and regional government, and later foreign invaders from Europe – which occurred quite frequently – they formed a single entity.
CHAPTER 2
In the Shadow of Acre and Cairo
The Third Generation
In 1813 Umar al-Husayni’s daughter married Musa Tuqan, the governor of Nablus and scion of one of its leading families, and Musa Bey’s daughter married Umar’s son Abd al-Salam II. The weddings were held together in Jerusalem. That evening (Muslim weddings were usually held in the evening) the two young couples walked under an immense canopy carried by house servants in a procession that marched towards the Haram al-Sharif. It was illuminated by blazing tar-dipped torches, also borne by servants, and followed by a drummer thumping a great tin drum, giving the beat to a deafening band of pipers. The Husaynis and Tuqans walked serenely behind the musicians, accompanied by many notables and other friends.
A double wedding was a great joy, especially when it consolidated the family’s standing. Circumstances in the new century required the Husaynis to expand the family’s power base, and once again the daughters were mobilized for the purpose. Musa Bey was not the most important member in the Tuqan family, but he was very close with his brother Khalil, the head of the family, and was on excellent terms with the regional ruler, the governor of Damascus. The family had friendly relations with the former ruler, but had so far failed to establish their position with his successor. Now, thanks to the newly forged link with the Tuqans, Tahir al-Husayni retained his post of mufti of Jerusalem, and the new governor sent a heartwarming letter congratulating him on his reappointment: ‘We shall not allow any harm to come to the Husaynis under our rule, and we wish them all the prosperity and success due to their status.’
Adminstrative boundaries under the Ottomans
But that year the Husaynis also received a reminder that a family’s power was liable to fluctuate. A Jerusalem family by the name of Abu al-Su‘ud had become very prominent, and in 1813 the sultan invited its head to his court – an honor never bestowed on a Husayni. The following week the sultan himself called on Abu al-Su‘ud in Jerusalem, with regard for his great age (he died later that year) and as a gesture of respect.1
Such reminders prompted the Husayni family to strengthen their connections in the imperial capital and their position in the region. The ties with the Tuqans helped them to cope with the upheavals on the regional stage after al-Jazzar finally died at a ripe old age (frustrating both his supporters’ hopes and his enemies’ wishes).
As noted in the previous chapter, Jerusalem was formally restored to the rule of Damascus, but in practice the governors of Acre acted as proxies. Thus the network of contacts needed to maintain the family’s position in Jerusalem had to include not only the rulers in Damascus but also the potentates of Acre and al-Jazzar’s heir, Suleiman Pasha, with whom the Tuqans had useful contacts. But such a dual rule fueled the ambitions of the regional opposition. Jaffa potentate Muhammad Aga Abu Nabut rose up against Suleiman, helped by the unchallenged strongman of the Jerusalem mountain region, Sheikh Uthman Abu Ghosh. The cause of the insurrection was the usual one in the region: they sought economic power based on tax gathering. Their immediate aim was to restrict the range of Acre’s power, and since Abdullah was weakest in Jerusalem, this became their first target. Once again, the Husaynis of both houses had to take a stand.2
So long as there was no hint of defiance against the rule of Istanbul, the Husaynis tended to stay out of these often bloody local politics. But now the Abu Ghosh family’s involvement made neutrality impossible. Its position in the village of Einab – where it had settled upon its arrival from Kurdistan hundreds of years before – preceded the Husaynis’ and intimidated them. The younger Husaynis admired the Abu Ghosh men as models of bravery in the face of regional and even imperial power. The older Husaynis saw them as a liability, as the Abu Ghoshes were rather unpopular in the ruling circles.
The year 1813 was especially pleasant, and not only on account of the double wedding. Naquib Umar al-Husayni renovat
ed a covered area in the Old City and built shops and a soap factory there. This enterprise would be the sound basis of the Umari branch of the family’s wealth for years to come. Breaking with a tradition of conservative business dealings, the family also expanded its interests beyond the city and invested in Jaffa and its environs.3
The family’s economic prosperity enabled it to devote time and thought to the restoration of the Muslim holy places in Jerusalem. In 1816 the governor of Acre, Suleiman Pasha, ordered the restoration of the al-Aqsa mosque. He dispatched a special messenger to Umar, who showed the visitor the ruinous and dilapidated condition of the shrine. They were accompanied by Ahmad Arif Hikmet, a minor Ottoman official who served as qadi in Jerusalem and was a close friend of the Husaynis on account of his claim that he was also a descendant of the Prophet. Hikmet was Tahir’s age, and the two young men became bosom friends. This connection would be very important in the middle of the century, when Hikmet was appointed the Grand Mufti of the empire. He would be the person who assured the family’s continued predominance in Jerusalem through one of the worst times in its history, perhaps the very worst until the catastrophe of 1948.
Following this visit, Sultan Mahmud II issued a decree demanding that the governor of Acre expand the restoration works in the mosque. In keeping with the custom, the inhabitants had to pay for their ruler’s generosity. Tahir and Umar were among the first appointed to collect taxes, and later they imported builders and engineers. Bashir II, the ruler of Lebanon, was also roped in, and he and the governor of Beirut held a special tax–collection tour in their territories for the project. Ships laden with cedars of Lebanon were sent to the Port of Jaffa, where Abu Nabut took part in the enterprise. When the restoration was complete, details of the contributions of the sultan and Suleiman Pasha were engraved on a wall of the mosque. The Dome of the Rock was restored at the same time, and there, too, the name of Suleiman was engraved. But Tahir and Umar did not restrict their building activities to religious institutions. As early as 1810 they began to construct and maintain various public buildings. That year Umar received a substantial donation from the governor of Damascus with which he constructed a water conduit leading from the Pools of Solomon into the city.4