Jassim the Leader: Founder of Qatar Page 13
Jassim now planned a campaign, confident the prestige and plunder it generated would reunite all dissenters. He decided upon seizing Khor al-Udaid, situated on his border with Abu Dhabi and part of the Trucial coast. He hoped to restore the hundreds of camels stolen a year earlier and demonstrate to his fellow tribesmen that befriending the Turkish military had its advantages. He also expected the 400 Ottoman lira he was paying in tribute annually would buy some significant support. He was mistaken.
The Ottomans were only too aware that Khor al-Udaid, technically under their protection, was claimed by Abu Dhabi. Any attack would ultimately draw in the British. For this very reason, there was no way they would willingly involve themselves, despite giving verbal assurances to the contrary. Jassim left Bida expecting to meet up with an imperial battalion. They never showed up and Jassim was forced to withdraw. This was to be the first of many occasions when he failed to receive backing. The Al Thani must have felt Qatar’s suzerain was in far greater need of them for maintaining the Ottoman claims in eastern Arabia than vice versa. It was Jassim’s strength which held Qatar together; the Mutasarrif stationed only a few dozen men in the whole peninsula.
And even if the Porte was not willing to join Jassim in campaign, it was inexcusable that they didn’t protect him from the imposition of British ‘justice’. The government of India had special leverage in Doha and Wakra in the early 1880s, thanks to their Hindu Indian subjects, the Banyans. In the Gujarati language, banyan means merchant, and not a species of tree such as Daniel Defoe had Robinson Crusoe build his home in. The Portuguese picked up the word to refer specifically to Hindu merchants and passed it along to the English in the seventeenth century. By 1634, English writers began to tell of the banyan tree, a tree under which these merchants would conduct their business. It provided a majestic, arboreal shade for merchant markets and meetings, and gradually came to mean the tree itself. Banyans first came to Qatar, settling in Wakra, during the rule of Jassim’s father, Muhammad. Numbers grew quickly when they found their niche as the middlemen who sold pearls in Bombay. That was all well and good until the first signs of a trade dispute, when Banyans called on the British Political Resident, rather than accepting Arab or Ottoman justice. Jassim would feel frustrated when he, the Qayamaqam of Qatar and its foremost tribal leader, was bullied into paying fines and accepting British judgements passed on him for alleged infractions committed on Ottoman and Qatari soil.
The government of India would also send to the region travelling consuls who had followed special courses in private learning establishments, the East Indian Schools – a proto-‘British Council’. Often these men were accompanied by officers dressed in the garb of Muslims. Their mission was to influence and suggest that prosperity and protection could be secured only by British subjects. In our times, and since the 9/11 attacks, it is fascinating how the British Council has reduced its budget in Europe so as to expand operations in ‘high priority’ regions, such as Iraq and Afghanistan, to ‘steer Muslims away from extremism’. Plenty of people are critical of the change. Charles Arnold-Baker, author of The Companion to British History, put it best. ‘The only people who are going to read our books in Beirut or Baghdad are converts already.’ Jassim must have found the presence of such ‘missionaries’ disturbing, but there was little to be done unless the Wali of Baghdad was prepared to take up the issue.
Despairing of Ottoman intervention, Jassim took matters into his own hands and closed all Banyan shops in 1882, expelling the community from Doha. Once again, this brought an instant response from the Political Resident, who sailed to Doha in the misnamed HMS Arab and not only forced the Qayamaqam to pay compensation of 8,000 rupees, which was taken from Jassim’s own funds, but insisted Qatar take back a people the British were using as fifth columnists. The historical record has plenty of reports which show that Banyans, based in Qatar, passed on the local news, views and gossip to British officials. Smaller ships would also visit the pearling fleets during the summer, as historian Zekeriya Kursun puts it, ‘to win the hearts and minds of the local people and induce them to receive documents proving their loyalty to Britain’.
It wasn’t until 1884, when the corvette Merih arrived at Doha to investigate Jassim’s claims, that the Mutasarrif of Najd began to grasp the situation. Ottoman political inaction had permitted Britain to become a judicial institution in Doha. It was not only undermining local respect for Ottoman authority, it was making it impossible for Jassim to maintain his public support. Any misunderstanding that may have remained was removed with Jassim’s letter of resignation. He no longer wished to be Qayamaqam. His letter claimed it was because ‘he had made the intention to go on Hajj’. The governor of Baghdad, however, could read between the lines. Passing the resignation on to Istanbul, he informed the Porte that much of the blame fell on the Mutasarrif of Najd. And just in case Istanbul was considering accepting the resignation, an accompanying note made clear there was next to no one who could possibly fill Jassim’s sandals. The possible exception, Ali bin Jassim, had already rejected the offer with disdain as soon as the Mutasarrif had suggested it. The point was conceded, and Baghdad removed the Mutasarrif, appointing Nezih Bey as his replacement. Istanbul clearly felt it better to dismiss the officials who had failed Jassim and embarrassed the empire.
In the meantime, Jassim needed his freedom to tackle the many challenges that were coming thick and fast from friends and enemies alike. He persisted in his request to resign throughout 1885, though assured the new Mutasarrif he was still a loyal Ottoman subject. He offered his son Khalifa as Qayamaqam, and promised to accept any other choice popular with his people.
Should either of these alternatives prove not to be acceptable to your side, then, please appoint a Qayamaqam who is an Arab or Turkish. If you disagree with me, I hereby declare that I will have to leave Qatar for good, and go somewhere else, whether Bahrain, Oman, Iran or elsewhere. Having served the Ottoman State and taken care of Qatar’s protection for the last fifteen years, I am begging now to be excused from my office.
On the face of it, Jassim’s threat seems an empty one. How could the Sheikh of Qatar leave Qatar? His instant allegiance to the Ottomans, however, coupled with their continued absence – except when it was time to collect zakah – had cost him political capital among his people. There were many men who would happily seek to exploit the deteriorating situation for their own benefit. Some tribesmen would claim independence; others would promote themselves as Qayamaqam candidates to the Ottoman administration. One man, Muhammad Abd ul-Wahhab, did both. He was the son of a wazir of Bahrain whose sister was the widow of Jassim’s father. He had become sheikh of a small village called al-Ghariya and was a keen observer of the political scene. Sensing that Taqi’l-Din Pasha, the governor of Baghdad, might finally and grudgingly accept Jassim’s resignation, Muhammad decided to be the 1886 thorn in Jassim’s side.
Muhammad Abd ul-Wahhab
A year earlier, around two hundred people of the Al bu Ghaz passed through Wakra on their way to Fuwairit. These migrants dominated Ottoman correspondence for the next two years. They would claim independence, protest harassment at the hands of Jassim’s men and even considered applying for British sponsorship. The peninsula was teetering on the brink of collapse. Jassim’s most dangerous opponent had once been a friend. Muhammad Abd ul-Wahhab had big ambitions and would one day become a salaried member of Qatar’s Administrative Council. Jassim initially dismissed Muhammad’s political machinations as a mild irritation, but tensions grew and soon an Ottoman corvette was permanently stationed to keep an eye on developments. The reports it sent back presented a chaotic situation at the ordered Ottoman administration. Many of these reports adopted Muhammad’s point of view; he was far more prolific in his correspondence than Jassim. Essentially, the dispute boiled down to the following: ‘The Qayamaqam of Qatar with his gang have attacked the village of al-Ghariya, and killed seven men of Muhammad’s and stolen a great amount of cash and property.’ (Al-Ghariya was a village
between Bida and Fuwairit.)
The Ottoman judge in Doha, Al-Sayyid Muhammad Amin, was asked for his opinion of the affair, but he suffered a good deal from virtual isolation in Doha and was mostly ignored by the local population. He had little grasp of the facts. Amin did, however, report a rumour: al-Ghariya had prepared a report for the British consul at Bushire, appealing for his protection. Ottoman hackles were further raised on an additional rumour that the British vice-consul to Muscat had sailed to Qatar for a private interview with Jassim.
The talk with Jassim lasted for a couple of hours. The exact account of their talk remains a mystery. However, according to Jassim, he was asked what had been his gain in serving the Ottoman State. The topic of Jassim’s conflict with Sheikh Zayid of Abu Dhabi was also on the agenda, and perhaps also the likelihood of an imminent entering of Fuwairit under British protection and of a great exodus from the region.
The judge had touched a raw Ottoman nerve. By the end of 1885, the Turks saw a British stratagem behind every mishap, usually unjustly. Ali Riza, the Wali of Basra, needed no more evidence than the hearsay of a lonely judge and informed his superiors that 2,000 Qataris ‘were about to apply to become naturalised British subjects’. Ottoman support, what little Jassim enjoyed, was based on the understanding the sheikh could control Qatar. If sections of the peninsula escaped his authority, then it was time to back new leadership. The Mutasarrif in Najd, specifically sent to aid Jassim, secretly planned to have him replaced, hoping to kill two birds with one stone. Muhammad Abd ul-Wahhab could stop the 2,000 becoming British and become the new Qayamaqam.
Muhammad had proved himself an eager ally and given every indication to Nezih Bey he could rule the town independently of the Al Thani and garner tribal allegiances quickly. In December 1885, Muhammad felt confident enough to suggest Nezih urge that the tribes switch their allegiance to him. ‘You must write letters threatening prominent persons like Banu Tehrim, Murra, Banu Shaif, Banu Hajir and Manasir.’ (Curiously, the letter suggests that Muhammad had also been in contact with the British. ‘Tell them not to attack the non-Muslim communities of the state [the Banyan] … they all come for shopping at frequent intervals to Hasa.’) Lastly, Muhammad washed enough dirty linen to convince Nezih that Jassim had to go. He related how Jassim’s relative Ali bin Rashid – a local tough guy – had been collecting un-Ottoman but traditionally Bedouin taxes on the Qayamaqam’s behalf, alleging that it was an absurd tax of 80,000 rupees on the Al bu Ghaz in Wakra which had driven them to Fuwairit in the first place. Muhammad pointedly asked whether any of this money had ever filled Ottoman coffers. Jassim’s rival was very confident of success by 1886, openly calling for his appointment as Qayamaqam and openly acting the part, visiting Sheikh Isa of Bahrain and attempting to win over tribes affiliated to the Al Thani. He was pushing his luck.
Jassim had a habit of retiring to the desert with kith and kin each year to sojourn there for a few weeks at the end of each January. In 1886, he appeared to be following his normal practice, but perhaps with a few more tribesmen than usual. Within a week, he had launched a surprise attack on Fuwairit. The raid was not designed to capture the well-populated town of his childhood, but was extensive enough to make clear who was in charge. The next day, Jassim attacked al-Ghariya even more successfully, evicting his uncle-in-law back to Bahrain. Muhammad swiftly wrote to Nezih with the details, and called on him to intervene. Nezih had no one to talk to, however. Jassim had returned to the desert, rejoined his family and finished off his holiday, reappearing only to hand the Mutasarrif yet another letter of resignation on 25 February. This time he decried not only the lack of Ottoman support, but the tolerance shown to the Qayamaqam’s detractors. Nezih was delighted to receive the resignation and strongly endorsed it, arguing that Sheikh Jassim had been troubling both the Mutasarrif and the Supreme Council at Istanbul with his occasional threats of abandoning the empire. He even called on Baghdad to appoint his recommendation for a new Qayamaqam since a ‘country without a government looks like a house without an owner’.
Confident Baghdad would back him, Nezih had not grasped the reason for his appointment. He had been sent to support Jassim and strengthen the credibility of Ottoman authority among Qataris and those who interfered in Ottoman affairs. He had achieved little in this regard, however, involving himself in tribal conflicts and, worse, backing one side against another. Perhaps, too, he had only half understood the vicissitudes of tribal struggle in which Monday’s enemy could be Tuesday’s ally. Meanwhile, Muhammad still attempted to court tribal support, specifically from the Banu Hajir of Salim bin Shaif, who had joined in the attack on Fuwairit. He was an experienced chieftain, and accepted Muhammad’s gifts but offered nothing in return. Back at Bida, Jassim denounced Muhammad as an agent of British-backed Bahrain, a man who would have delivered Fuwairit to the British and fought against Qatar. Muhammad was exposed as a chieftain without a tribe. The recklessness of the Mutasarrif’s decision to accept Jassim’s resignation must have begun to dawn. Nezih had nobody to take Jassim’s place and had demonstrated to everyone in Doha an Ottoman inability to control events on the ground; rather events controlled him.
Inevitably, the Sublime Porte once more declined to support any proposal which meant Jassim might be replaced. Istanbul was only too aware such an action would dissuade every local leader from Udaid to Muscat from submitting to Ottoman authority. Accordingly, on 3 March 1886, the Supreme Council instructed the Wali of Basra that Jassim must remain the Qayamaqam – he was a key balancing factor against the British, the man who had established a predominant position in the Gulf through his remarkable strength and political appreciation of the ‘bigger picture’. Nezih Bey had to accept the decision and a lesson in tribal affairs: leave it to Jassim. Only a tribesman knew how to play politics in a tribal society. As if to prove the point, Muhammad Abd ul-Wahhab instantly reconciled his differences. Jassim even wrote to state his pleasure at renewing an old friendship and called on Nezih to reward the man he had fought against just a month earlier. Muhammad was given a salaried appointment at Darain in Qatif (and outside Qatar!). Jassim had won the challenge, but no thanks to the local Ottoman administration. It was only the Porte’s appreciation of Jassim’s worth which had prevented a most unfortunate turn of events. But for all its wisdom, Istanbul still proved incapable of appointing officials in eastern Arabia who appreciated the local situation.
Tithes, titles and trouble
Nezih didn’t last much longer in his position as Mutasarrif of Najd, but his replacement – from Jassim’s perspective – was to prove equally annoying. The empire was squeezing as much money out of the provinces as it could to pay the huge amount of interest on its loans from Britain and France. Qatar was not to escape this revenue-raising initiative. The new Mutasarrif was determined to establish a customs house at Bida. But Jassim had become experienced in breaking in new officials, and decided the best way to frustrate the Ottoman plan was to reduce Bida’s importance. He decided to withdraw to a place in the desert called Ras al-Zaayen, declaring that he had severed his links with the capital and was no longer responsible for the running of the country. From now on, anything to do with Qatar’s administration, as Jassim put it, should ‘first be referred to God and then to the Turkish Government’.
Jassim’s tactical retreat had created a security breakdown at the pearl market in Bida by July 1887. The Turkish gendarmes were wary of using force, afraid of upsetting tribal sensibilities by arresting the ‘wrong’ person. It was only a matter of time before defenceless Hindu Banyans began to be victimised, as they were accused of monopolising the pearl trade. Two were seriously wounded in an incident guaranteed to attract some Royal Naval interference. Jassim’s brother, Ahmad bin Muhammad, and his son Khalifa, moved to protect the Indian community but it was too late. Since the British didn’t recognise Ottoman authority over Qatar, they decreed that Jassim was the party responsible for the attack on British subjects in Bida. The new Mutasarrif in Najd, Akif Pasha, was conspicuo
us by his absence. Only the Basra telegraph station reported that British pirate ships had appeared off the coast of Qatar. But Jassim’s plan to bring the provincial governor to heel was about to backfire. With the help of the Sheikh of Bahrain, Edward Charles Ross, the Resident in the Gulf, confiscated pearls worth 20,000 Indian rupees belonging to Jassim. Worse, all the British Indian residents at Bida were removed to Bahrain and the Assistant Resident himself arrived for a patronising attempt at reminding Jassim of his responsibilities. Though he sent an emissary to Bahrain to negotiate, and the case was eventually settled by the payment of around six thousand rupees as compensation to the injured British subjects, Jassim was furious. Local Ottoman officials were silent once more. They collected tax but gave no protection.
Jassim had to restore order in Bida himself and was obliged to return, determined to make the Mutasarrif and his superiors understand the damage done not only to him, as the Qayamaqam, but to Ottoman prestige in the region. In a letter dated 3 November 1887, Jassim wrote to insist any plaintiff who lived and worked in Qatar should henceforth come under Ottoman jurisdiction. The missive could almost be sarcastic, were it not for the harsh financial consequences of Turkish unwillingness to involve themselves in issues relating to British meddling.
The British feel restless in the face of my loyalty and every now and then they display their animosity … such are the injustices to which I am subjected because I am an Ottoman citizen and protected by the Ottoman state … I should like to suggest that, with a view to having my rights protected, the plaintiffs should henceforth have recourse to Ottoman courts of justice and act according to the judgements that are to be pronounced therein.