A Cure for Serpents

by Alberto Denti di Pirajno

  A friar came out of the church, paused an instant on the steps blinking his eyes in the strong light of the winter morning and then, with quick, short steps, made his way towards the Shara Azizia arcade. As he reached the end of the road, a great mastodon of a British tank came round the corner and a boy dressed in leather leaned out of the top and saluted the monk with a wide, ironic sweep of his arm. The humble friar stopped, astonished, and stood staring after the machine until it disappeared behind the Social Insurance building.

  I heard the door open behind me and Marchesi, my Deputy Governor, came in holding the side of his face. I thought he had toothache until he began to excuse himself for not having shaved. Before I could make any suitable rejoinder, the door opened again to admit a British captain. He was lean, of medium height, with a rather yellow, melancholy face, close-set eyes and drooping moustache and shoulders. On his arm he wore a white band with some cabalistic signs on it, and at his belt hung an enormous revolver in a white canvas pouch. He looked at us through sleepy lids and in a rather squeaky voice asked if we could tell him where he could lodge the military police. I pointed through the window to the Royal Carabinieri barracks on the other side of the road, empty and at the disposal of anyone who cared to occupy them.

  When we were alone once more, Marchesi and I looked at each other. This was our first meeting with the British forces. We had imagined that it would be a solemn, probably a dramatic moment; we had expected the arrogance of the victor and had prepared ourselves to be firm and dignified. Instead, here was a meek man, certainly suffering from his liver, courteously asking us where he could lodge his men. I must admit that we were rather disappointed.

  The ring of the telephone made us jump … but the message was brief and simple. Together with my Deputy Governor and the mayor, I was required to go to Porta Benito to hand over the city to General Montgomery.

  Before I had time to analyse my feelings, the mayor rushed into the room to say that he had received the same instructions. Pagnutti could not keep still. He was thick-set but very agile and he walked up and down and round and round the office. He paused a moment and pointed to the calendar on the wall which had not been changed since 31st December 1942; he talked, without stopping for breath, of the weather, of the people who had invaded his air-raid shelter, of the cook who would not go out and do the shopping for fear of the British. From time to time his features contracted in a nervous tic and he looked at me with his head on one side, one eye half closed, as though entreating me to interrupt his monologue.

  In front of Government House my Deputy Governor was talking to a tall, slim British captain who some years before had been vice-consul in Tripoli and who spoke Italian like a native. Next to him stood an irate and self-important brigadier-general who shouted orders and curses, both in Arabic and English, at sentries, motor-cyclists and passers-by.

  The Deputy Governor and I got into a car and the captain squeezed in beside the driver. In perfect Italian, with a Florentine accent inherited from his Tuscan mother, the captain (whose loyalty as a British officer at no time prevented him from behaving like a gentleman) informed us that Montgomery was an extraordinary man and that when he said something had to be done, it had to be done and that was all there was to it. As I gazed out of the window on to the streets of the city that no longer belonged to me I asked myself if this remark was meant to intimidate us. Did he expect us to be impressed, I wondered? We knew very well that we were going to hand over Tripoli and that, sooner or later, they would put us behind barbed wire. It was inevitable.

  At Porta Benito we found the square lined with trucks full of military police, their machine-guns at the ready. Other redcaps were posted at regular intervals, their revolvers in their hands. It was really rather funny, but we were not in a mood for laughter.

  A car arrived from the direction of the sea and General Bernard L. Montgomery stepped from it. With the brigadier-general on one side of us and the captain on the other we moved towards him. Out of the corner of my eye I was watching my Deputy Governor. His face was ashen, of that particular hue which is characteristic of heart cases, and for a moment I thought he would not have the strength to cross the square. But his will was stronger than the disease which a year later caused his sudden death behind the barbed-wire barrier of the Nanyuki camp. He walked slowly, his head high, his face turned to stone, his eyes seeing nothing. He had been ordered to hand over the undefended city to the invader and he fulfilled his last task as administrator with the same sense of duty that had characterised his whole life. Everyone had gone – the leaders who had sworn to defend the city to the last stone, the ‘di qui non si passa’ authorities – all had left. The last hospital ship making for Zuara had been crammed, not with the wounded, but with gold braid, and chests covered with ribbons and medals; he, a civilian, with no medals, stayed on.

  The mayor’s nervous tic had become worse and he kept one eye closed as if he were taking aim. Fortunately, I was not able to see what sort of show I myself was putting up.

  At twenty paces from Montgomery, the brigadier-general stepped briskly forward and intoned our respective functions and titles. In the presence of his chief he was much less self-important: he was red to the roots of his hair and his shoulders seemed to me to droop in a most unmilitary manner. He hurriedly presented us, as though anxious to end his part in the ceremony. His brief words of introduction ended, he took up a position two paces behind and to the left of Montgomery, lifted his head very high, threw out his chest and cast a ferocious look at the three of us.

  The Commander of the Eighth Army had saluted by touching his beret with two fingers, and at a sign from him the captain went to his side to act as interpreter.

  With his back to the radiator of his car and his head drawn down into his collar, the British commander spoke in an abrupt, nasal voice, emphasising his short, sharp sentences with brief gestures of the hand. To avoid looking at us, he kept his eyes on the ground; the bone structure of his lean face was clearly visible under his tan; at the end of each sentence he lifted his eyes, with a flash of blue, to the captain’s face; in the intervals for interpretation he remained with his head bent, looking at the ground.

  While Montgomery was speaking, I kept my eyes on his face – and the face of the enemy is never beautiful. In all probability, the people conquered by Alexander the Great found even the beauty of the divine Macedonian repugnant.

  Troops were to abstain from acts of violence, he said, and to respect private property; the population was to refrain from provoking disturbances and from hostile acts; the Italian colonial officials were to remain at their posts because, in conformity with the laws of war, the functions of local administration must go on; no political collaboration would be requested but, in the interests of the population, the normal administrative activities must continue under the control of the occupation authorities. If they carried out these instructions loyally, said Montgomery, the Italian civilian officials would have nothing to fear.

  The British commander’s car moved off and disappeared from sight.

  The police remained in their trucks, stiff, immobile, with machine-guns and pistols at the ready. Except for them, the square was deserted as we re-crossed it to the waiting cars.

  Although the British may have been surprised to find the Italian colonial administration still functioning, they were not slow in deciding to make the fullest possible use of it. It has always been the far-sighted policy of the British in other countries to evaluate and then make use of existing systems of government. On this occasion they realised that they would be able to operate the administrative machinery of the country very much more rapidly if they first watched the Italian staff at work, than they would if they had to start at the beginning on their own and feel their way. In fact, we were allowed to work unmolested, as we had been promised – until we were no longer needed.

  The heat arrived suddenly that June and was excessive even for Tripoli. I had finished luncheon and was seated on the diva
n in the alcove that served as a sitting-room. The windows were wide open to the stifling air, and a bird chirruped in the distance.

  My man Mohamed had placed a cup of coffee on the table. As he stood waiting for me to finish drinking it he gave me the latest news and local gossip in his mixture of Italian and Arabic – the search of Engineer So-and-So’s house; the watch stolen from the employee at the municipal offices; the arrest of Mahmud el Gader; the sudden transfer of the military police lieutenant who thought he should receive his meat gratis; the confidences of the beautiful Jewess who was always in a certain colonel’s car (‘she say he stink like dead dog, curse his mother, but my God he full of lire like sand, and cigarettes and jam, and when he drunk calling sergeant for unbutton’).

  Suddenly Mohamed broke off and his shiny, black, Fezzanese face took on the greenish hue of a country priest’s robe. Leaning on the corner of the table, he swivelled his eyes towards the window and, in a strangled voice, said, ‘English in garden: redhat with gun.’

  I put down my cup. Although I had been expecting this moment for four months, I noticed with annoyance that at Mohamed’s words my heart had jumped into my mouth. I stood up, hoping I had not changed colour.

  A major of the military police and a captain entered with business-like steps. A sergeant remained in the doorway, barring the exit. The major was embarrassed.

  ‘I’m frightfully sorry about this … it’s a bad show …’

  I had now regained control of myself: my heart was in its right place and I was sure I was the right colour.

  ‘Do sit down,’ I said. ‘Have a cup of coffee. My things are almost packed and I can be ready in a few minutes. A cup of coffee for the sergeant?’

  I was astonished now at my own composure. For the first time in four months of unceasing tension, of moral discomfort, of unspeakable bitterness, I felt calm and serene. The absurd and paradoxical thought occurred to me that these men who had come to arrest me had, in fact, brought me liberation.

  To pack the last few things into my bag was a matter of moments only. When I returned to the sitting room the captain was examining a jug and basin of cast copper – the work of Arab artisans. I invited him to keep it as a souvenir. Blushing profusely, the young man replied that he would look after it until my return.

  ‘Of course,’ added the major, ‘you mustn’t consider yourself a prisoner; it’s only a temporary measure – a passing phase – and then everything will be as before.’

  I laughed loudly and he gave me a pained look without speaking.

  We left the house and climbed into a jeep. The vehicle started up and as we drove away I heard the clang of ironwork behind us. It was probably Mohamed shutting the gates, but it sounded to me like the shutters closing on my African dispensary for the last time.

  GLOSSARY

  Ar.–Arabic. Amh.–Amharic. Heb.–Hebrew. Tig.–Tigrinya. Tam.–Tamahàk. Turk.–Turkish. Cun.–Cunama.

  aburuf (Ar.): roan antelope

  alif (Ar.): first letter of Arabic alphabet

  ’ālim (Ar.): wise man

  ambessa (Amh.): lion

  amenokhâl (Tam.): king

  angareb (Amh.): native bed

  asri (Tam.): sexual freedom

  baglāwa (Turk.): kind of sweetmeat

  bakkūsh (Ar.): deaf-mute

  bakshish (Ar.-Per.): tip, gratuity

  ba-n’amuk (Tam.): suspension of prayer

  baraka (Ar.): blessing

  bashi-bazouk (Turk.): irregular soldier of the Ottoman Empire; brave but rapacious

  bazina (Ar.): kind of porridge: oats cooked with oil and pepper

  bembaka (Ghadames dialect): prostitute

  berberé (Amh.): red pepper (see filfil)

  bhur (Ar.): scented seeds

  blād el asrar (Ar.): the country of mysteries

  bölük-bashi (Turk): corporal

  brīk (Am.): Tunisian sweetmeat

  Cādī (Ar.): judge administering holy law of Islam (see Nà’ib)

  cashi (Tig.): Coptic priest

  cumin (Heb.): seed of a plant resembling fennel, used for seasoning

  cuscus (Ar.): North African dish: groats and vegetables, sometimes meat

  dhow (Ar.): Arab sailing vessel, lateen-rigged

  dhurra (Amh.-Tig.): durra, millet

  Dīvān (Turk.): Ottoman State Council

  faqīh (Ar.): Islamic lawyer

  fatha (Ar.): first chapter of the Koran

  filfil (Ar.): pepper

  fiqh (Ar.): jurisprudence

  fonduq (Ar.): inn, tavern

  frangi (Ar.): foreigner, European

  fūta (Ar.): cloth, rag

  gandurra (Ar.): tunic

  ghebi (Amh.): palace, large house

  habībī (Ar.): ‘My friend’

  hāik (Ar.): Arab outer garment

  Hajj (Ar.): title of one who has made the pilgrimage to Mecca

  hammâl (Ar.): goat’s hair mat

  hāwīya (Ar.): the lowest pit of Hell

  holy (Ar.): hāik (q.v.) worn by women

  ihaggaren (Tam.): patricians

  iklan (Tam.): negro slaves

  Imām (Ar.): prayer leader, leader of Islamic community

  imghad (Tam.): vassals

  jinn (Ar.): supernatural being, good or evil; Mohammedans believe they can assume various forms

  jinniyah (Ar.): female jinn (q.v.)

  Kāymakām (Turk.): Turkish title

  keddāb (Ar.): liar

  khālkhāl (Ar.): heavy silver anklets

  kharâymi (Heb.): Jewish dish: fish cooked in red pepper sauce

  kohl (Ar.): antimony, used by Arabs as eye cosmetic

  kudu (Amh.-Tig.): large African antelope

  kumiss (Tatar): sour fermented mare’s milk

  lālla (Ar.): Berber equivalent of ‘Mrs’

  lām (Ar.): letter ‘l’ in Arabic alphabet

  legbi (Ar.): palm wine

  lubān (Ar.): seeds burnt as incense

  Maghreb (Ar.): West: in general, Arab-speaking countries of North Africa (West of Tunisia)

  mehari (Ar.): dromedaries, for riding (not pack animals)

  meze (Turk.): tray of assorted delicacies

  mrabba (Ar.): large red woollen tassel

  mràbet (Ar.): Holy man, Moslem hermit

  Mudīr (Ar.): District chief

  mugyas (Ar.): bracelet

  mumtāz (Ar.): lance-corporal

  Nà’ib (Ar.): Cādī (q.v.) or Deputy-Cādī

  nakuda (Ar.): pilot

  ngong (Cun.): giant frog

  okka (Ar.): Arab measure of weight

  Padishah (Per.): Persian title given to Sultan of Turkey

  qibla (Ar.): direction of Mecca, to which Moslems turn to pray

  Ramadān (Ar.): ninth month of the Moslem calendar, during which Moslems fast from sunrise to sunset

  ras (Amh.): chief, prince

  rdā (Ar.): type of holy (q.v.); garment worn by women

  rebāb (Ar.): kind of violin

  rebaza (Ar.): four-stringed mandolin

  sa’lūk (Ar.): Moroccan pilgrims to Mecca

  sambūq (Ar.): kind of dhow (q.v.)

  sanduq (Ar.): coffer, chest

  Sanhedrin (Heb.): highest court of justice and supreme council in Jerusalem

  Saqar (Ar.): one of the pits of Hell

  sawārī (Pers.): regular cavalry

  shamma (Amh.): white outer garment, like a Roman toga

  sharmouta (Ar.): prostitute

  shekka (Ar.): woman chief of a tribe or camp

  shifta (Amh.): brigands

  sharmouta (Ar.): brigands

  shumbāshī (Ar.): sergeant

  sīdī (Ar.): ‘My lord’; ‘Monsieur’; ‘Sir’

  simoom (Ar.): hot, dust-laden wind

  sīn (Ar.): letter ‘s’ in Arabic alphabet

  sirwāl (Ar.): long trousers worn with Arab dress

  spahis (Turk.): irregular cavalry, originally Turkish, now Algerian

  stambulina (Turk.): long jacket reaching to
the knees

  sūra (Ar.): chapter of the Koran; most of the chapters have traditional names, e.g. the 57th is known as the Sura of Iron

  surīya (Ar.): chemise worn by women

  Tab’a (Ar.): name of a jinniyah (q.v.)

  takuba (Tam.): sword

  Tamahàk: language of the Tuaregs

  tanfust (Tam.): service, favour

  tarbūsh (Ar.): fez, formerly worn by Turks and still by other inhabitants of the East

  tebīb (Ar.): physician

  tech (Tig.): Abyssinian native beer: a kind of mead

  teswîra (Ar.): photograph

  tifinar (Tam.): written Tamahàk

  tukul (Amh.): hut

  uàsra (Ar.): outer garment worn by Berber men, made of goat’s hair

  ’ud (Ar.): lute

  ukhaytī (Ar.): ‘My little sister’

  umzad (Tam.): lute

  undufoonay (Cun.): wood mushrooms

  wādī (Ar.): river valley or dry watercourse

  Wāhhabī (Ar.): puritanical Islamic fraternity founded in the eighteenth century

  Wāhido (el-) (Ar.): The Solitary One: God

  wallàhi (Ar.): exclamation: By God!

  yummī (Ar.): ‘Mother mine’

  zaghārīt (Ar.): battle-cries and cries of greeting with which women hail returning warriors

  zâmel (Ar.): pederast

  zaptivé (Turk.): native policeman

  zāwiya (Ar.): religious school

  zighini (Tig.): Abyssinian dish

  Zikir (Ar.): religious ceremony in which mystical fraternities attempt to achieve ecstasy by dancing, singing and other means

  Zintan: village in Western Tripolitania, known for beauty of its women