orangesaint.

In the most general sense, anthropological and historical speculation about a civilisation has always been tinged with sadness -- a sense of lament at a glorious past that has long since been upended by an ordinary present. In a preface to his lauded Arabian Sands, Wilfred Thesiger dedicates his book as “a memorial to a vanished past, a tribute to a once magnificent people.” 

 

That Thesiger’s work is an extraordinary insight into the physical toil of Bedu existence -- the harsh sunlight, frigid nights, scarcity of nourishment and the sheer effort required to traverse the vast sands -- is unquestionable. Equally important, though, is his capturing of the Bedu psyche in all its munificence. That they guided the foreign Christian Englishman through the terrain of warring tribes while still protecting his identity is a testament to their genuine desire to connect with people regardless of faith.

 

It is saddening, then, that the great explorer was dismayed by the progress he saw in the Middle East post the discovery of oil. Thesiger’s assertion that the Bedu way of life would face extinction in the face of material gains shows a gradual misunderstanding of the makeup of a people; people he bonded with and described so eloquently and exquisitely as a younger man.

 

The tribes of the Trucial States and wider Middle East do not now stare down great stretches of nothingness on camels as their ancestors did; they have instead willed their way to a metropolis. The ambition and drive to thrive in barren sand continues to resonate today. The modern image of the United Arab Emirates, and indeed much of the Middle East, as a snug melting pot of diversity is indebted to the generosity extended to Thesiger, the ostensible outsider.

 

There is, then, a difference between how we live and how we live. We live in a physical world -- we always have. The Italians drink their wine, the Maori tattoo themselves, the Indians eat their curries, the Americans throw their football and the Bedu live in the desert. These are all stereotypes that might hold slivers of truth but do not define their people. What defines the people is the behaviour and psychology that gives rise to these tangible displays – the psychology of a people also defines their world. The Indians and Italians could appreciate the small delights by way of their cuisines; the Maori could appreciate nature’s art through their tattoos; the Bedu and the Americans could appreciate the lack of physical limit to the human body. We must not attach visible exhibitions of culture as central tenets of said culture. Instead, we must eke out why these physical manifestations of culture exist, what they tell us about the people and how the psychology behind these displays remains immutable regardless of tangible differences through the generations. 

 

Wilfred Thesiger is rightfully celebrated for being a pioneer, not only in the physical sense of enduring entirely new terrain, but also in the courage it took to appreciate and bond with a foreign civilisation without prejudice. It must also be stated, though, that the “vanished past” of camels and tents has been replaced by Land Rovers and the Burj Khalifa, but the “once magnificent people” are still magnificent. They are still generous. They are still ambitious. And they still welcome foreigners. The culture of the people Thesiger admired is still flourishing: from the crags of Jebel Hafeet and the tranquility of the Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque to the orange hues of Liwa and the lapping of waves at the Dubai Creek. Culture, way of life, tradition -- these are not words for things that can be misplaced like a token teashop trinket. People constantly rediscover new ways of living old ideals. There is no need to lament the loss of culture; culture has just evolved. As it did before. As it will again.