Washington Report on Middle East Affairs, June 2000, pages 105-106

Book Reviews

Bethlehem 2000: Past and Present

By Mitri Raheb and Fred Strickert, Heidelberg, Germany: Palmyra Press, 1998, 157 pp., List: $34.95; AET: $24.

Reviewed by Betty Jane Bailey

During 1999 when I was speaking to U.S. church groups about the plans in Bethlehem for the year 2000, a man asked me, “What does Bethlehem have to do with the year 2000? Why the big deal?” I figured that he had flunked Sunday School and went on to explain how the Christian calendar was constructed, with Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem being “year one,” and that Bethlehem was the most appropriate place to celebrate the beginning of 2000. And he merely said, “Oh!”

But now that the year has begun, we are all more aware of Bethlehem as the place of beginning. Yasser Arafat, a Muslim, begins this remarkable book: “Many other cities in the world are preparing to celebrate the third millennium. Yet no place on earth is as special as Bethlehem, the Palestinian city that was blessed and chosen by God to be the birthplace of the messenger of peace and love, that great event that marked the beginning of the Christian era.”

To most North Americans Bethlehem as the birthplace of Jesus conjures up the sounds of “O Little Town of Bethlehem” and the sight of a little wooden stable in a rural atmosphere. (Of course it was more likely to have been a cave, since trees are scarce and even today no one builds with wood.) The “little town” has certainly changed in 2,000 years, but some of the pictures which Mitri Raheb and Fred Strickert show us in Bethlehem 2000 remind us that the terrain might not have changed that much, after all. The breathtaking desert and the mountains of Moab are little different from what Mary and Joseph saw.

Bethlehem 2000 is not strictly a religious book, although it is full of pictures of religious people in the Bethlehem district and even includes icons from the remote (and closed to women) Mar Saba monastery in the desert. Raheb and Strickert introduce us in their text and pictures to the three towns of the Bethlehem district: Beit Sahour, Beit Jala, and Bethlehem itself, along with the small villages nestled in the desert. The book also shows us the everyday life of people in the towns and villages of the district—the farmers, stonecutters, shopkeepers—as well as the military checkpoints, settlements, bypass roads and refugee camps of today’s occupation. The text goes beyond picture captions to describe such things as the historic living quarters of Bethlehem, its economy and culture, and the current political situation.

Raheb and Strickert present us with the expected in terms of pictures of a cloister, Christmas Eve Mass and terraced hills. But there is also the unexpected aerial view of the Herodian, Arabic calligraphy of Luke 2:14 and a bagpipe band. There is the old Bethlehem as shown in David Roberts’ lithographs and 19th-century black-and-white photographs of Manger Square. There are also the recent photographs of an Israeli military patrol and a demonstration at Abu Ghneim protesting its confiscation for a new Jewish settlement to house around 40,000 Israelis. A modern painting of the Lord’s Supper by Adel Nasser closes the book.

Having lived in Bethlehem for a year and a half, I can verify the authenticity of the pictures and the text. I experienced the gracious people, the spectacular beauty of the area and, especially, the checkpoints and closures. In text and pictures, Raheb and Strickert have captured the essence of the Bethlehem I know. They have even captured the religious pluralism of the area in the Muslim worshippers and in a box about El-Khader, a saint revered by both Muslims and Christians.

Even though it is entitled Bethlehem 2000, the book will not be out of date on Jan. 1, 2001. It is a story of a past, a present and a future. At the end of the book, Mitri Raheb states: “The Bethlehemites hope to use this opportunity as the beginning of a new era for their city, their region and the world.”

It will be a great present for those who wikll be celebrating Christmas 2000, wherever they may be.

Betty Jane Bailey has lived in Bethlehem as a representative of the United Church of Christ USA and the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ). She is co-author of Living Stones Pilgrimage: With the Christians of the Holy Land, also available from the AET Book Club.

 

The House of Wisdom

By Florence Heide and Judith Gilliland, New York: DK Ink, 1999. 36 pp., List: $16.95; AET: $12.50.

Reviewed by Hugh S. Galford

“From time to time, as the world turns, something different happens, something mysterious and astonishing: a kind of brightening, a quickening, a leap beyond, when ideas brush against one another and sparks fly and ignite other ideas. It can happen anywhere, anytime.”

Thus begins The House of Wisdom, an exquisite children’s book lavishly illustrated by Mary GrandPré, in which Florence Heide and Judith Gilliland bring to life the quickening that occurred in ninth-century Baghdad. The story of a young boy’s quest for adventure and learning, it is also an important reminder of the need for openness and understanding, and the possibility of dialogue between those of different backgrounds and different times.

In AD 830 (some give 832), the caliph al-Ma’mun—son of Harun al-Rashid—founded the bayt al-hikma, or House of Wisdom. One of the most important scientific institutions of all time, and one of the least-known, the House of Wisdom served as library, research center and translation bureau. Manuscripts of the Ancients—the originals of which were in Greek, Syriac, Persian and Sanskrit—were collected here and translated into Arabic.

Many scholars, while recognizing Islam’s role in the preservation of Classical and Hellenistic thought, attribute solely a transmissional role to the Muslims. The works gathered in the House of Wisdom, in the fields of astronomy, mathematics, medicine and philosophy, however, spurred the development of Arabic thought and contributed to the flowering of what is known in the West as Islam’s “Golden Age.” In the field of mathematics, the Arabs developed algebra. Baghdad was home to one of two Abbasid observatories, whose scholars corrected Ptolemy’s 700-year-old star charts. These Greek works also served as the starting point for Arabic philosophy, which had far-reaching consequences not only in the Muslim world but in the Christian West as well.

Baghdad in the ninth century was the largest city in the world, and it held the same attraction then that similar metropoli hold today. Scholars at the House of Wisdom came from all corners of the Islamic Empire and from all faiths: Muslims, Christians, Jews, Zoroastrians and Sabians worked there. Traders from the world over came to Baghdad to conduct business, bringing not only spices, textiles and gold, but books as well.

Heide and Gilliland paint an imaginative portrait of a lively city, describing the arriving caravans and ships. They tell of the souq full of Russians in fur caps, Indians and Turks, and Africans. And of course they describe the House of Wisdom and its resident scholars and translators toiling over their books.

Amid the activity of the House of Wisdom is a young boy, Ishaq. His father, Hunayn, is one of the leading scholars working there. Heide and Gilliland tell us that Hunayn’s work was so highly valued by the caliph that he paid Hunayn for each translation its equal weight in gold. Yet even Ishaq could see that it was not the gold that his father worked for, but something much quieter and more personal: his conversation with the Ancients held through their works.

Deciding that he wants to follow his father in scholarship, Ishaq sets out to learn Greek. His studies are slow and laborious, one word at a time. While he excels at his work, Ishaq yearns for adventure. He gets his chance when the caliph chooses him to lead one of the caravans sent to gather more books for the library and its scholars. Ishaq spends three years traveling, observing and, of course, buying. His travels take him to India, to Greece and even to the barbarian West, sunk in superstition and ignorance. Yet even in Western Europe, he is able to find scholars and monks hidden away, copying what works and preserving what knowledge they can.

Upon his eventual return to Baghdad, he—and his acquired books—are given a hero’s welcome at the House of Wisdom. As the scholars excitedly unpack and examine the books, Ishaq sees his father walking toward him, gently holding a book. That book, his father tells him, may be a work of Aristotle’s that had previously been considered lost. Ishaq takes the book to his father’s cell, at his request, and turns to go. But something makes him stop. He opens the book, lights the lamp, and begins to read. When he next looks up, it is morning. Ishaq finally understands his father’s passion and his belief that “we are like leaves of the same tree, separated by many autumns.”

Ishaq bin Hunayn was an historic figure. He won renown in his time for his work, and is considered to be the greatest translator of Aristotle ever, translating the majority of the great teacher’s works. While his fame rests on this work, he did not focus solely on Aristotle. He also translated mathematical and astronomical works by Euclid, Archimedes and Ptolemy; medical works by Galen; and philosophical works by Plato, Porphyry and Proclus. His original writings dealt with medicine and pharmacology.

Heide and Gilliland provide a short historical “afterword” to the book, and the authors and illustrator list their source materials for adult readers who want to learn more. While the authors take some historical liberties (according to information given in the Encyclopaedia of Islam), the story is in broad sweep accurate; it is certainly a realistic portrayal of the work done at the House of Wisdom. Children will love the book not only for the story, but for the marvelous pastel illustrations by GrandPré. For parents familiar with the Harry Potter series and those books’ cover artwork, think of a 36-page book whose every full-page illustration is done in the same style. Parents will also appreciate the fact that this is an intelligently written children’s book. The language is rich and evocative, and the sentiments expressed are ones not heard nearly enough today.

Ishaq, among the mélange of foreigners in Baghdad’s souq, comments to his father that they all speak so strangely. His father’s reply? “You may not understand them, but that does not mean they have nothing to say.” The tone of the book is established by the epigram with which Heide and Gilliland preface the story. It comes from al-Kindi, considered the first Arab philosopher: “The truth must be taken wherever it is to be found, whether it be in the past or among strange peoples.” Al-Kindi lived from 801-873.

This is a book that should be in every child’s library—and every public library as well. It tells not only of a boy’s search for adventure, but of a centrally important period of history almost totally unknown outside of academia. It serves as a corrective to the myopia that Westerners suffer concerning Islam and its culture’s contributions to world history and civilization; for the works translated in the House of Wisdom, built upon in the Islamic world and passed on to Europe through Moorish Spain, sparked the Renaissance.

Perhaps the book’s main importance is that it is also a call for tolerance, for reflection, for understanding, and for openness to that which is different—and which, in the end, is also our own.

Hugh S. Galford is director of the AET Book Club.

---

< Prev		Next >