Nevertheless the fact remains that the civilisation of the Sabæans need scarcely be taken into account in determining the place of Arabia in history. It counts for less than the inferior civilisation of other nations less remote from the main theatre of events. The principal scene of the old quarrel of East and West, which had presented itself so vividly to the eyes of the Greeks in the Persian wars, in the last century before Christ was transferred to Syria and the countries about the Euphrates and Tigris. The Arabs of the northern districts were drawn into the struggle of the Romans with the Parthians and Persians. They were always available for pillaging the enemy’s territory or harassing their compatriots on the other side. It was hardly possible for the great powers to rule the desert, and it would have been a somewhat thankless task; but they could influence the Bedouins strongly by various indirect methods. The Arab dynasties in the frontier districts were particularly useful for the purpose; they occupied a position of independence none too strict, and were invariably regarded with suspicion, but they could keep their savage kinsmen, with whom they were constantly in touch, far more effectually in check than regular imperial or royal officials could have done.
In this connection the Christian phylarchs of the tribe of Ghassan are worthy of special mention on the Roman side. Their capital was not far from Damascus and they played a somewhat important part in the events of the sixth century. On the Persian side there were for many years the vassal kings of the tribe of Lakhm, which dwelt in the important city of Hira, near the ancient Babylon. Both dynasties were respected and feared nearly as far as the confines of Arabia. Some scattered monarchies had likewise arisen in the interior of the country. In particular, we know of some sovereigns of a family of the Kinda tribe, whose home was at Hadramaut, far to the south; they ruled with vigour in various parts of Arabia, much like the princes of the Haïl dynasty at the present day.
But this sovereignty was of no long duration. Arabia is not suited to monarchy. The Bedouin has too strong a taste for independence; he is averse even from peaceful enterprises for his own profit, if they call for discipline and subordination. A government must be equally wise and firm if it is to control the intractable nomad, with his loose ties to the soil. The Bedouin clings to his family, his tribe, his race. He yields willingly to the suggestions of the most distinguished and experienced chiefs of his tribe, but only so far as he pleases. There can be no question of a real government authority. This was the case even in the few cities of the interior. The decisions of the heads of families had considerable weight, but no coercive force. It might happen that individuals or families held aloof from a campaign undertaken on the initiative of the most distinguished men of the tribe, or turned back before its object was attained, nor could any one prevent them from so doing. They would perhaps have to endure scorn and mockery in prose and verse, and to that the true Arab is as sensitive as he is accessible to hyperbolical eulogy. In Arabia, then as now, peace never prevailed for any length of time. Sometimes there were feuds between large tribes or groups of tribes, sometimes quarrels within narrower limits. Camel-lifting and the use of pasture and wells belonging to another tribe constituted frequent grounds of quarrel. If blood were shed (which usually happened unintentionally) it cried aloud for blood. The Arab is not naturally blood-thirsty, but the passion of revenge for his slaughtered kin can lash him to furious blood-thirstiness. Fear of blood-revenge and the reflection that, in the peace which must ultimately be concluded, wergild must be paid to the tribe that has suffered most severely, in proportion to its losses, usually induce the combatants to be careful not to slay too many enemies, even in the stricken field. A murder or even a grievous injury may provoke long years of feud between families closely akin.
A powerful corrective to lawlessness is, however, supplied by the sway of custom and tradition. Authority (as has been intimated before) makes up to a great extent for the lack of political restraints. Authority of this character tells most strongly amongst a people of the aristocratic temper which the Arabs share with other nomadic races. An alien has no natural rights, but if any member of the tribe takes him under his protection he gains that of the whole tribe, and consequently security for his life and property.
THE KOREISH OF MECCA
By the year 600, and probably a considerable time before, the Koreish of Mecca had attained a curious and exceptional position. There, in an absolutely barren valley and near a spring of brackish water, a sanctuary stood. Some families of the Fihr clan, which belonged to the Bedouin tribe of Kinana, had settled round about it and established, under the name of Koreish, a lax commonwealth of the kind frequently found in Arabia. A considerable area in the immediate vicinity of their sanctuary may possibly have been respected as holy ground, in which no blood was to be shed, long before the Koreish took possession of it. Thus secured from harm, and held in high esteem as the guardians of the Kaaba (a small, square primitive house enclosed within a building open to the sky), the Koreish had turned their attention to commerce. They sent forth their caravans far and wide, as the Ishmaelites and Sabæans had done of old.[14] Koreishites travelled as merchants to Gaza, Jerusalem, and Damascus, to Hira on the Euphrates, to Sana in Yemen, and even crossed the Red Sea to Abyssinia. By these means they not only acquired considerable wealth according to Arab standards, but what was of much greater value—a wider mental horizon than the Bedouins and the inhabitants of the oases, and a knowledge of men and affairs. Although they never quite attained a regular political organisation, yet Wellhausen is right when he says, “We note something of an aristocratic hereditary wisdom, as in the case of ancient Rome and Venice.”[15]
One consequence, it must be owned, of the practical temper and sober-mindedness of the Koreish was that they produced no poet of any note, while each and all of the poverty-stricken tribes of Bedouins about them had great achievements in this field to show. Better fed than the Bedouins (though by no means luxuriously) and not decimated by conflicts, they increased more rapidly in numbers, and in Arabia the numerical strength of a tribe has much to do with the esteem in which it is held. Their prosperity allowed them to exercise a liberal hospitality, and the hungry Bedouin appreciates highly the host who lets him for once eat his fill. We may well conjecture that it was the Koreish who established the connection between the annual pilgrimage to the mountain of Arafat, which lay just beyond their holy ground and the valley of Mina, with the temple of Mecca, which lay within it. Thus Mecca became the place where Arabs of the most diverse tribes met together from far and near every year. Even before the days of Islam the Koreish tribe was held in high esteem far and wide. But, however much we may study the causes which raised them above other Arabs, it still remains something of an enigma that this torrid and barren eyrie should at that time have brought forth so large a number of men, exclusive of the prophet, who, when their turn came to be placed in circumstances wholly unfamiliar, acquitted themselves magnificently as generals and statesmen. History sets us several problems of a similar nature in the sudden appearance of many notable men at the same spot.
At that time there were many survivals of barbarism among the inhabitants of central Arabia. For instance, the practice of burying newborn daughters alive was very general. The cost of feeding and bringing up girls in that inhospitable country was a burden unwillingly borne; probably the horrible manner in which they were got rid of had originally some connection with religious ideas. In remote antiquity the Semites, like many other nations, reckoned consanguinity only by the surest guarantee, that of a common mother. Among the Arabs and other peoples we find a relic of this view, otherwise abandoned long since, in the fact that a man might regard his stepmother as part of his inheritance and take her to wife. The father of the great Omar was the issue of such a marriage.