Sunday, September 3, 2017

Damascus, October 18, 1925: Qaṣr al-ʿAẓm Under Attack


History has always been a carefully chosen collection of lies and half-truths designated to promote and embellish an agreed-upon narrative—however mythical—and discard or, if need be, justify inconvenient details using, on an ad hoc basis, all sorts of convoluted and preposterous arguments.

Before approaching the theme of this post, I would like to cite an anecdote in the form of an illustrated tale I read many years ago in Tintin, a once-popular Belgian comic magazine among the youth. This tale was published in issue number 42 in the year 1969 under the title "Le pavé des martyrs."  The author, Yves Duval, had ʿAbd ar-Raḥmān al-Ġāfiqī, the Muslim conqueror, instruct his soldiers to slaughter all captives to avoid the need to feed "useless mouths." This nonsense is, of course, directed at the European youths; the aim here is to glorify the exploits of Charles Martel and demonize the savage Muslims. I aim not to exonerate al-Ġāfiqī; great conquerors are neither decent nor compassionate. It simply makes no sense to sacrifice precious war trophies such as young women and healthy children. In a nutshell, the French narrative is every bit as exaggerated and phony as the Arab one. An honest look at what really took place in the 730s before and after the Battle of Poitiers requires looking at both narratives, analyzing the data, and performing a careful cross-examination. 

Fast forward to 1925, the French Mandate, and the Great Syrian Revolution. I am not about to justify the French policy or practice in Syria; I would rather convey the French perspective as articulated by the orientalist Eustache de Lorey at the time. It thus becomes possible to compare the Syrian narrative (an unprovoked barbaric aggression against Damascus with hardly any context provided) with its French counterpart (a thuggish attack on Qaṣr al-ʿAẓm). Before I yield to Monsieur de Lorey, I would like to briefly address a few facts:

1. Al-ʿAẓm Palace was not usurped. It was purchased for a considerable sum of money by the French government from 68 owners of the al-ʿAẓm family. The smaller wing of the edifice (selamlik) was designated as the residence of the High Commissioner; the larger (ḥaremlik) was allocated for the headquarters of the French Institute for Archaeology and Muslim Art founded by General Henri Gouraud.

2. Gouraud is known from an official as well as popular Syrian perspective as the author of the infamous ultimatum against the nascent Syrian kingdom. He went on to face and defeat the troops and volunteers led by Yūsuf al-ʿAẓmā to subsequently enter Damascus. One of the first things he did—so goes the popular narrative—is to head straight to the Mausoleum of Saladin and triumphantly state, "We are back, O' Saladin!" Some even claim that he kicked the tomb out of sheer spite.

3. Gouraud was a soldier alright but also a writer and an academician. It was he who urged Father Henri Lammens to write a book about Syria's history that remains a valuable reference today, all reservations about the work and its author notwithstanding.

4. Monsieur de Lorey was a respectable scholar, credited with uncovering and restoring the mosaics of the ʾUmayyād Mosque.

I will now quote verbatim (translated from French, of course) what de Lorey had to say. I do not promote his version of the events, as it ultimately remains up to readers to compare Syrian versus French and come up with their own conclusions. 

"From the beginning of the insurrection on October 18, armed bands carried out an attack against the Residence, as they were under the impression that the High Commissioner was on the premises. The guards were violently assaulted with grenades and forced to retreat into the ḥaremlik's courtyard (the French Institute) by the insurgents, who immediately managed to dominate the terraces. 

Around 6:00 on Monday, a group of rebels returned to attack the Residence and managed to force the palace's door. The residence was looted and sprayed with petrol and put on fire as told by the very son of Ḥasan al-H̱arrāṭ, the chief of the gang, who participated in the attack. The painted woodwork that adorned the halls, the thin walls, and the chains of wood linking the masonry helped to rapidly spread the fire that soon gained the door and the wooden pavilion where the institute's director resided. 

The guards were delivered on Tuesday, October 20th. At the time they left—the beginning of the afternoon—all rooms of the palace were intact except the Residence and the pavilion. Most rooms were even closed, but the evacuation of the palace left them without protection, and the looting commenced in the afternoon. During the night of 21-22, the fire that had continued to simmer reached the great hall of ceremony at the ḥaremlik. 

Starting in the afternoon of the 20th after the abandonment of the palace, looting mainly took place in the morning of the 21st. The burnt door allowed free access to the institute's locales; those were vandalized, and their doors were forced. 

In the offices, the files were thrown to the floor, trampled underfoot, and torn apart. It was later discovered that thieves had carried administrative papers, thinking they were precious documents. The archaeological notes, impressions, collections, and drawings met the same fate. The furniture of the salons, the precious carpets, the divans, and the objects of art were all equally stolen. Even the electrical wires were pulled out. 

The library in particular suffered significant damage. The bound and illustrated books of archaeology were carried away by preference. Many portfolios of plates and books were intentionally torn apart or thrown in the basins with disdain. 

In the museum the iridescent glass, chiseled copper, and money disappeared. A remarkable libation cup from Ṭafas, precious ancient silks, and collections of Damascene ceramics excavated in Ḥanānīā and Bāb Šarqī were despoiled of their prettiest pieces. The altar dedicated to the god Manāf (?! perhaps the goddess Manāt) was thrown off its pedestal. They even broke the relief of stucco from Rey, which was the most important human representation by a Muslim artist to reach us. It was 75 cm high and featured a round-faced person of an Iranian look, standing, armed with a mace. He wore a costume that consisted of a striped turban and qafṭān, the right arm of which was surrounded with Kufic inscriptions. The long waistcoat was most interesting for studying the tissues of early Islam, as the relief seemed to fix its date in the 9th or 10th century of the Common Era. 

Also regretted is the loss of photographic equipment and a plate collection that grouped more than 2000 photos of monuments of Damascus, Aleppo, Hama, and Upper Mesopotamia.


L'état actuel du palais Azem. Syria. Archéologie, Art et histoire. Année 1925 (6-4)  pp. 367-372.

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