THE HUMANITY OF A MODERN ARAB
CITY: A NOVELIST'S BIOGRAPHY
OF AMMAN
N IJ.'\IEH JJAJJAR
The ('1(' I. lift 11/ Lts mllltlphaty and dlvelSlty. She I the places (lnd thl' people,
the trl'( and the sIT/I'll lif ralll, and the fOrth too. The CIty I Tone Itself, III a
.tdte c!f motlOlI. • Ili'i the, 'a)' pop'" look at thmgs. the way the) talk, and ho, '
they dealltlth n'ent. 11/e CIty IS the dreal/ls and dlS<lppollltments, • 'Illch fill
people' mmds and hearis.... She I. the moment '1/ people' Illlppme and the
tune. c!f thl'lr sorrow. The CI(1' IS th" way .he' .tkomes those Ilf loves and ronjrollts those ihe antagonIze, the tl'ars wllh which shejarnvells those who leave
11i'r.. and the 'IIlLles 'WIth which Iii' u'elrome- those who retll/'ll. The Ci(\' IS all
the.e and other ihmgs be Ide, bIg and mall I It at all pos 1IMI' to retl/roe Iter?
-,\I>d al-Hahman ~Illlllf (1 (33-200 q.. /lat ....fadma l
After thirty-seven years of living abroad, the prominent Arab novelist bd aI-Rahman Ylunif return: (in ID92) to the ity of hi: birth,
Amman. He \\ rite, Biograph.v qf' a Ci(\:' .1l11man In Ihe Forties (in Arabic
Smlt Jladllla),2 \\ here he spellt the first eighteen years of his life. By
this time, ;\llInif \\iI. already establi. hed a. a leading nO\e1i t advancing
a ne\ genre of fiction depicting the realities of modem Arab 0 iety,
and exploring at length the changing life of 1\rab cities. Ilis important
work, the Olle of • all, a novel in fi\e volumes, tells th story of a traditionill society tran formed by the uisco\ery of oil, an I of the turmoil
resulting from an imposed Illoderni. ation and dra tic urbanisation. s
Ed\~ard Said ee. the Cilm qf SaIL as the "most interesting", and "only
serious \\ ork" of .'\ rabic fiction portrayinf{ the etl'i.'ct of oil, A merieans,
and the local oligar hy in a Gulf coumry.+ .\nu Tariq Ali believes that
this "remarkable contriblltion to .\rab fiction", "brilliantly" depicts the
creation of the Saudi Kinguom under • influence.:; Of course, the
message of CLIff'S of IIll can be applied to any and each city in the Arab
oil-prouucing cOLlntries.
nlike the CItIeS if Salt, ho\\e\w, MlIlIif's BIOgraphy qf' t1 Ci(v is not
a novel, although the author cOl1sciou.ly lIses certain no\elistic tech-
75
LITERATURE AND AESTHETICS
nique', He draws slletches of his memories of the city, through the eye
of the child that he \\ a~, a~ he grew up ill Alllmiln among t hi immediate family, ~chool fi'iend~ and III neighbourhood. But it is not l'"entiall)' an autobiography, e\ en if; a he himself remarks, the two biographies (the author'.. and the city's), "intersect at "ome tations".£; In this
paper, I shall halt at somc of thcse station' to highlight thc merlapping
biographies of author and city on their \\ ay to adulthood: he bet\\een
childhood and adole<,cenc{', and she eros ing li'olll to\\ II to city.
My usc of "she/her" rather than "it/its" \\ith reference to the city i'
not only because thc city\ grammatical gender in ArabIC is leminine. It
i. not unusual for cl'eatiyc .\rahic \\ riter to compare the city to \\oman,
For the prominent poet :'\izar Qabbani (Syria, 1D~.'l- W~) ) for example,
"cities are like womell, each one ha~ her own personality, fragrance and
tla\our", But it \\ as to a city, rather than to a woman, "to Beirut-the
female" and "the lady of the \\orld", that the poet of woman par exccl[ellee yielded hi eternal 1m e: "[ don't compare Beirut to any other
city", he proclaim " "She is in Olle pallll and all the women of the \\ orJd
in the other",~
.\hd ill-Rilhman \lunlf hilll,e1f 'peab of Beirut a, il unique, "irn'placeable Arab city". [n his biography of the ;\lauritanian intellectual
:vi uhalllmao al- Bahi (J!):30- J 9%), ;\lull if says tlwt Beirut is "necessary
I()r her~elt: her people and the other' WO".1i But Beirut doc'n't fare so
well in his liction. Although ,he is the onl\' real .\rah city mentioned
by name in hi~ no\ el , sill' is the "damned city"Y Jlis fictional cities
are "big", "cur~ed" and "C\ il" cities, \\ hirh "torturc" and "mangle their
people till death".w But ;\lunif doe not think that citie' are intrinsically cruel. The nmeli"t in,i'h, "The worm doesn't grow in the ritie
themseh'es but inside the human being. It is the human being who i
the disaster and the curse", I I
[t is thus more accurate to talk about "the humanity of citie~" in
;\Iunif's \\ ritings, to bornm John Gulick', phrase. l >! ;\lunit; I think,
intended to prm'e that cities arc 'human' too. This can be scen by contrasting his pessimistic fiction, \\ here cities arc faceles and "inhuman", 1:$
\\ lth his biographical repre~entations of real citie , \\ hether Arab or
non-.\rab, Ii))" example Baghdad, Beirut, Cairo, I)allla~cus and Pari.
This is especially true of hi' city of hirth, Amman, 'ot just because
the story is based on hi~ childhood nwmories in the then slJlilll city, but
more so because of the \\ay he re-constructs these memories.
My thesis is that the narrati\ e of BIography qI a Cil)' reflects the
humanity of .\mman in the !()rties in an optimistic light, It is a narra-
76
MODERNISM AND THE CITY: NIJMEH HAJJAR
tive with a \'ISlon: a literary vision that combines the public with the
pri\'ate, and the historical with the novelistic to re-create the real world
in the act of writing, It is also an urban vision of the "humanity" of
the city as understood by Gulicl, fllr example, ill that it "integrates the
small-scale immediacies of e\'eryday life with the.. , large-scale realities that impin/!;e on city dwellers' daily li\'(:~s",I;' Moreover, within the
theme of modernism and the city, I see Mllnif's Biography q{ a Ci{}', in
its "intention and method", as a be/!;inning of a modern genre in Arabic
literature, in Edll'ard Said's sense of both "beginning" and "modern". H;
I should like now to consider Munif's auto/biographical motivation.
In his Introduction, the author tells us that he responded to two invitations in the early 1990s from different rcsearch institutions in Jordan to
"talk" about Amman. Howe\'er, the fiction writer fillllld it extremely difficult, and not necessarily exciting, to write about something he knew
very wcll, and certain events that actually happened. But then he feared
the time was passing; so he set out to record his memories of a world
that was f~lst disappearing. I?
It has been said that autobiography is uncommon in Arabic literature. But Arab intellectllals are, more and more, becoming aware of the
importance of autobiography. Some have begun to \ITite their memories of a lost or filrgotten world, especially when fitced with serious
illness or looming death. The late Edward Said (1 f):l5-~!OO:l) began his
memoir after he was diagnosed with cancer. He felt it was important to
leave behind a subjecti\'e account of his Iifi.· in se\'Cral cities in the Arab
world, where he was born and spent his formative years, and in the
United States, where he obtained his higher education and plll'sued his
career. 19 Said considered the f~lct that the Arab world as he "had grown
up in it, had completely changed" as his "autobiographical impetus, to
rethink the whole question of what it means to start again, to begin".~o
Another prominent Palestinian-American scholar and intellectual,
Hisham Sharabi (W27-200+), began his memoir, literally, in the operatin/!; theatre. In two boob, he vividly recorded details of the years he
lived in several Arab cities, especially in Palestine and Lebanon (1927IfH9). Some of these cities have irreversibly changed. Others, such as
Acre and Jaml, have lost their Arab identity fore\'Cr.c! I The same could
be said about the creative writer and critic. Jabra Ibrahim Jabra (1920199'~), a Palestinian who became a refilgee in HH-S, and a close fi'iend of
Munif with whom he co-allthored a nO\'el.c!~ Jabra wrote his childhood
and youth memories in Jerusalem and Bethlehem at an advanced age
when he feared the passing of time.Q~1 [s it of significance that these
77
LITERATURE AND AESTHETICS
writers wrote about their childhood and youth in Arab cities to which
they could no long-er return?
Abd ai-Rahman Munif died in Damascus in 2004" aged seventy-one,
after a protracted illness, Perhaps he too teIt the urgent need to write
his "autobiography" beli)J"c it was too late, But why the city of Amman?
Munif was born in Amman, although his tilther was Saudi and his
mother was Iraqi, He grew up in the city amidst his immediate tiullily
including his Iraqi grandmother and a number of siblings, \Ve are
unenlightened as to why the Munifs T\lo\'ed to, and lived in, Amman for
all these years, during which the city experienced a number of natural
disasters and epidemics al1<.l two wars: the Second ,",Vorld \Var and the
tirst Arab-Israeli war (191·1;),
Ytunif spent the tirst eig-hteen years of his lite, uninterrupted, in
Amman where he recei\ed his primary and secondary education bet<l\'(.'
going to Haghdad to study law, and then, expelled, to Cairo where he
completed his degree. For the rest of his lite, Munif worked and lived
in several cities in the Arab world and abroad, often as an exile, especially after he was stripped of his Saudi citizenship (!Do:J) because of
his political ideas.
Munif is now acknowledged as a "patriarch of Arab literature" and
a pillar of the modern Arabic nO\'ePH His reputation is especially due
to his multi-volume novel Cltl{?s 1!1' Saft, which depicts the disturbing
modernisation of Arab cities. Apart from a very brief return to
Amman shortly after he left it,~[, it took Munif another thirty-seven
years to re\'isit the city of his birth, childhood and adolescent years.
Upon his return, the author of C/tll's l!1' Salt talies it upon himself to
write the personal story of his own tirst, and perhaps only real city.
Thus he embarks upon writing to "repay" his debt to the city betore
time erodes the memory of people and places.~li
But Mlmif's Biography ql' II Ciloy is not only a word of thanks to an
intimate place. It is essentially an attempt to recapture the author's
childhood and that of his childhood city. It is the author's struggle
against oblivion and absence; an endeavour "to stop time till' a while",
to use his own words, in order to recapture, not only images of places,
things and people, but also the pulse of lite of that time,~7 To realise
this aim, Munif consciously uses his skills of novelistic narration,
history and aesthetic sensibility,~H in a combination that makes Biography l!1' a Cilo)' "an extended memory" to re-read the beginnings of
modern Amman, and re-think the question of what she was and why
she turned into what she is now,
78
MODERNISM AND THE CITY: NIJMEH HAJJAR
neplying retrospectively to a question about his iluto/biographical
drive, Munif complained of the absence of an "urban vision" in modern
Arabic literilture. He lamented the scarcity of Arabic writings about
Jif(, in Arab cities in the past fifty or sixty years, insisting that avaihtble
accounts were either written by foreigners, or consisted of blurred
images and imprecise details. He admired Naguih Mahfilz whose Cairo
Trilogy kept details of many aspects of Arab life that would have disappeared otherwise. 2fJ From this perspective, Munif himself wrote about
his own childhood in Amman and urged other Arab authors to do the
same for their cities. Perhaps it was with this vision in mind that he also
wrote the biography of his friend, Muhammad al-Bahi, in the context
of the cities where this Arab intellectual lived.:lO Munif was adamant
that if Arab intellectuals recorded their impressions ,md memories, a
"modern Arab urban vision" would become possible.:lI
Munif speculates on the reilsons why modern Arab authors avoid
writing about their O\\'n li\'es, and therel(we about their cities. "\Ve don't
see the closest things to us", he says, "perhaps because they arc familiar
and ordinary things that are not worthy of recording....<l~ And when
time passes, and lucid memories of things, places and people are lost
f(wever, it becomes diflicult to re-create a distinct, recognisable image
of the city as a real place. Obviously this is significant, but I think the
reasons are more complex,
First, it is possible to argue that modern Arab authors prefer not to
write about their own life, or "travel within the self", ilS Nizar Qabbani
has expressed it. In the seventies, writing about the influences on his
poetry of his home city, Damascus, Qabbani pointed out thilt writing
about the "self" is often seen in Arabic culture as a "kind of arrogance
and narcissism".:!:l
Secondly, it could be that modern Arab writers have generally
shunned writing ilbout real cities because this means writing about
ordinary places and people and everyday liiC and things. It is true a
number of Arab novelists (Iil\e Najib Mahfilz, .Iabra Ibrahim .Iabra,
Tawfiq Yusuf 'Awwad, Hanan al-Shaykh, (;hada al-Samman, Ahlam
Mosteghanemi and Munif himself) wrote about life in the cities
addressing a broad-based readership. But apart from this, the majority
of modern Arab writers, at least until the 1990s, remained isolated
fi'om the experience, vision, and e\'en language of the ordinary people.
This has prompted the Egyptian Arab literary critic, Ghali Shuhi, to
describe "Arab literary modernity" as an "elitist nlOdernity".3'~
79
LITERATURE AND AESTHETICS
Perhaps modern Arab authors also avoid writing about memories of
the P<lst bec<lu~e they are preoccupied with modernity itselt: "the issue
of the moment", to use Edward Said's words..% Thus writing about the
self or the city in the recent past may be seen as outmoded, irrelevant,
or even reactionary, especially when confi'onted with the present and
future challenges of modernity It seems that the preoccupation with
the "battle" for "modernity" and the "Arab finure",% has distracted
Arab intellectuals fi'om writing about their memories of city life, which
they (perhaps) associate with the pre-modern world,
This is not to say that Munif's biography of Anllnan in the f()rties
is an evasive exercise by a writer haunted by the etlects of modernisation on Arab cities, or even a nostalgic attempt to "resurrect" the past,
Although a staunch nationalist, Munif was conscious that any such
attempt is doomed to f;lilure. Not only because the past is gone forever,
but also because it may distract etl'orts from the pressing issues of the
present and the future.:l~ Clearly, in Biograph), I.!/ a Ci~)', Munif's aim
was to rethink the question of what the past meant to the filture of
Amman,:38 especially as he later expressed the hope that she could be
"a model" for the "human" Arab city (al-lIIadina al-illsalll):va) of the
filture ..~w
Four years after the publication of his biography of Amman, Munif
asserted that, in all his writings about the cities, real and fictional,
his intention was to "re-read history" in order to "highlight the true
course of events", and to "caretillly look at the beginnings" because of
their influence on the present and the filture'+ o Like other progressive
nationalists before him (for example Ameen Hihani),-+l Munif believed
that the Arabs could learn from the lessons of their past for the sake of
their futllre.+~ It is in this light that I read Munif's discourse on modernism and the :\rab city In this context we can also understand his
concern about preserving the memories of Arab cities through creative
literature, history, autobiography, or other means, as he believed that
such "historical" records are invaluable f()J" !inure generations.+ 3
Furthermore, l\1unif's views about modernism and Arabic literature,
especially with reference to cities, are not entirely divorced from his
appreciation of classical Arabic literature. He particularly valued the
works of classical Arab geographers who wrote a great deal about
the cities they lived in, travelled to, or even heard about fi'om other
travellers. And he argued that it was tillle that modern Arab writers
reclaillled this tradition. Certainly as a fiction writer, Munif advanced
a new gelll'e of Arabic literature that explores life in Arab cities trans-
80
MODERNISM AND THE CITY; NIJMEH HAJJAR
f(wmed by modernisation. Rut I would like to pose the question: did he
as an auto/biographer, aim to modernise an Arabic literary tradition
that went out of f;\shion because of the concern with modernity?
In Biography ql a Cily, Munif combines the skills of the traditional
arts of autobiography and historiography, with insights li"om the
modern sciences of sociology, psychology and urban anthropology, as
well as the visual arts, and certainly, the "novel'" techniques of fiction
writing. However, it is important to emphasise that as someone who is
deeply conscious of the role of "historical memory",+.'> in this and his
other biographical works, Munif records memories of ordinary people,
places, and aspects of ordinary daily lile, rather than abstract national
concepts. In the story of Anlllian in the fiwties, the auto/biographer
integrates the memories of his own childhood and other people within
the tale of the city; and the historian tells tilt' story of the city and her
people in the context of events at the lewIs of the nation, the region
and the wodd at large. For this reason, I sec HlOgmphy (f a Ci~)', not
just as a "modern" worl( of literature, but also as a text "about modernism" in the Saidian sense. :Yhlllif's work certainly meets Edward
Said's criterion of "writing about modernism" as "a mode of reflection
and meditation", where the work of art/literature is put "in a larger
perspectiw", and connected "not just to a cultural and political situation, but also to the privacy of the writer's life...·Hi
The story of Amman is re-constructed from flashes of \1unif's own
childhood memories, narrated in the thin.1 person as if the narrator is
talking about a child he knew long time ago but about whom he docs
not want to reveal everything. So he just pauses at some stations where
the child's life O\'edaps with that of Amman. The story begins with the
day the child awoke to the city. This was associated with the news of
the death of Ghazi, the Iraqi IIashimite monarch in Baghdad (w,'3!J).
Having an Iraqi llJother and a proud Baghdadi grandmother, the child
assumcd that the king's "l\illing" concerned only him. The event that
deeply mO\'ed the city (due to the dynastic connections between Iraq
and ,IonIan at the time) awol\e the six-year-old child to the idea of
death. Its impact made the child discover the wider space of the city.+7
Beginning the story with death is rather intriguing. Perhaps Munit:
who in his later writings expressed admiration for Ghazi, considered
his death-or "assassination"-not just a personal grief: but also an
Arab national loss.+s
Interestingly the story of the city ends with another death that
aflects the author, even more personally. This time, it is the death of
81
LITERATURE AND AESTHETICS
his grandmother, who not only is a main character in the story, but also
the window through which the child sees the city. It is through her eyes
and voice that we learn so much about Amman in the torties. By the
beginning of the following decade, the author's personal connection to
the city comes to an end with the departure of the grandmother, and
shortly after that of the child-now a young man-from Amman to
Baghdad. She returns to die in her old city, and he begins a new lite in
the "cruel" but "compassionate" Baghdad.+ n
In the years between the death of the Iraqi king and that of the
beloved grandmother, the story of the city of Amman is brought to
lite. \Ve learn about the close ties Amman has always had with her
sister city, Baghdad. Both were then the only remaining Arab cities
ruled by the Hashimite family. A significant Iraqi conlllJunity was then
established in Amman and, together with other Arab communities, particularly Syrian and Palestinian, contributed to the diverse population
of the city and to her growth and development.
The trauma that the Iraqi king's death caused the child is the juncture at which the author highlights the state of health services in
Amman. Owing to the child's paintill experience on that day, we find
out details about the availability and quality of health service providers,
about patients and attitudes to disease, prevention and treatment. Later,
witnessing one of his siblings being taken to the shrine of a holy man
tor cure, he contrasts the ditlerent alternatives, incluuing popular traditional remedies that were prevalent at the time..r,o Perhaps the author
has, at the back of his mind, the great developments in health care
which Amman witnessed in the decades between his memories and the
time of writing.
The story of education in the city is another important station in
her biography. \Ve can fi)lIow its evolution through the child's tirst
experience of schooling in al-lJlaktab, the Qur'anic pre-school where
children learned the basics of literacy and nUJneracy. The child's vivid
and dramatic memories of ill-milk/ab, described as "the first prison",!>!
tell us a good deal about this traditional educational institution that
almost all Arab cities and villages have Imown, and most Arabs of
Munif's generation could relate to..r,~
The child's journey /i'om ill-milli/ilb to primary and secondary levels
leaus to the story of the earliest schools, and the establishment of
modern ones in the young city. One of these is the Islamic Scientific
College where the author finished his secondary education, and where a
JIll/llber of the fllture political leaders, including the late King lIusayn
82
MODERNISM AND THE CITY: NIJMEH HAJJAR
of Jordan, were educated 5 : 1 The author's memories of his teenage
youth are more precise and detailed. His recollections of the teachers,
students and curricula, as well as the cultural and political activities
and events, highlight the importance of such a centre in the capital
city, and retlect the situation in the whole of Jordan at the time. These
memories also hint at the young high school student's involvement in
the aeti\'ities organised by the various cultural societies and political
parties at the Islamic College, and other schools and I()rums. The
author documents, and in some instances analyses, the activities of the
nascent Islamic Liberation Party (Ilizb al-Tahrir ai-Islam i), the Ba'th
Party, and the Muslim Brothers, all of which were to influence the state
and society in Jordan and other Arab countries in the future.[,4
From Munif's narrati\'e we learn that the !()rties in Amman were
"long, severe and grim" as the city struggled to sUr\'i\T the hardsbips
of two wars: the Second \Vorld \Var and the lirst AI'ab-lsraeli war,5,';
These passages oller the author's personal observations of how people
(including his family ami neighbours), endured the hardships of these
two wars, on top of natural disasters (flood and locust invasion, 1943,
\!)49), and epidemics (typhus and cholera, I D1·G-I9'l-'i).'.r; Although the
city did not sutler any destruction, the seemingly endless \\'orld \Var
(( transf(JrIlled people's attitudes towards each other and towards their
city. Poverty, food rationing, unemployment, and the emergence of a
class of nOIlVel/II,r ridles, forced people to become more careful with the
basic necessities of life; some lost their compassion, others left the city
for a brighter and more secure lilC in tbe countryside or abroad.!>i
The author's memories, especially of the Iraqi army unit going via
Amman to the war in Palestine, present a clear and lively record of
the expectations and disappointment of the people of the city during
this crucial period of her life. His personal account of ordinary people
(his grandmother, relatives and neighbours), debating the strategies
and outcomes of the two wars, reveals the city's struggle to grasp the
intricacies of domestic politics and of the loreign intervention in the
region.['8 The dreams and ambitions of the people of Jordan on Independence Day (I ~HG), and their scepticism about its authenticity, were
captured in his grandmother's critical observation that there would be
no real independence without getting rid of Abu Hnayk, nickname of
the then British commander of the Jordanian army, Gluhb Pasha.[,u
Munif lollows the evolution of the city as aspects of material
modernity were introduced into her social lilhric, and the remarkable
transl()rmation, which she experienced after the \\'ar (radio, cinema, and
83
LITERATURE AND AESTHETICS
the increasing use of private cars)60 Of the child's amusing memories
of the war years lor example, the author recalls the precautionary
measures that the very lew people who had a radio would take to
protect their treasured means of informationY I Rut among the happiest moments in the lile of the author and the city were the sporting
and outdoor activities. It all began with homemade toys lor little children (since parents could not aflord to buy real toys during the war): a
wooden spinnin~-top, a stick lor bike or horse ridin~, and a wheel-game
lor racing!(;~ Here is also an opportunity to record that soccer, even
with a ball made of cloth rags, was an important chapter in the history
of Amman! \Ve li)llow the games to the finals, li'om empty streets to
the ollicial playgrounds, which in the late lorties were equally used for
horse racing and other unforgettable city lestivals.(;·~
Lively scenes of other activities are recorded in great detail. \Ve
share the little child's passion for marbles, despite his grandmother's
irritation with these "devilish" beads, and his great amusement at the
lIying kites' tournament (at which one of his own brothers was a prolessional competitor).64 And we accompany the boys on their various
seasonal adn'ntur('s: fishing and swimming in the river, catching birds,
even raiding neighbouring orchards; playing in the snow (a rare opportunity for girls to get involved and lilr some boys to show their chivalrous manners!); picnicking and promenading (to exercise yes! but also
to gaze on the heautilid dresses of the young women!).(;5 Children also
had some special tasks to perform. For example in Sllllllller, they would
help the adults in the preparation of provisions lor the coming winter,
during which they would take on other duties: chopping lirewood or
invoking rain in ceremonial performances that add to the colourful
ethnic and cultural make-up of the city. And when God responds, the
river would give the children the most exciting experience of their
life GG
Munif highlights the role of Amman's river, popularly known as
al-Sayl (Stream) both as the Iileblood of the city-since its source (the
powerfid Has al-'Ayn spring) provided the nascent city \\·ith drinking
water-and as a danger. During severe winters the river would break
its banks and lIood the Illain street of Amman, thrcatening many
houses and shops. Allnnall's l~H.'j great flood, which Mnnif rcmembered as a ten-year old hoy, has been immortalised in his Hiography
of a Cil;}~ the sensc of urgency and the civil spirit of cooperation and
solidarity, the concern of the teachers lor their pupils, and the curiosity of the children ill exploring dangerous areas. Rut during the
84
MODERNISM AND THE CITY: NIJMEH HAJJAR
spring season, the stream becomes a lively and fl'iendly em'ironment
filr swimming, fishing, playing and picnicking rn This and later floods
led to drastic changes in the landscape of the city (including covering
the whole course of the river), but the riwr has continued to inspire
modern poets and fi)lkloric songs to the prescnt day,
The author reminds us that modern Amman was known in the past
not only as "the city of fi'aternal love" (Phifadelphia), but also as "the
city of water", And water was one of the reasons for her re-building
in the modern age. ris He traces the city's path and activities along the
living water body, paying special attention to certain places fi)!' their
public significance: al-Husayni \1osque (the city's centre), the Roman
Amphitheatre (the people's assembly space known as al-Midan), the
public bath (used by \\'omen in the morning and men in the afternoon),
and the fi'esh produce market, which "united" the diverse people of
Amman in the filrties.'i9
Munif underlincs the important features of Amman's life as a commercial centre including the various markets, second-hand clothing
shops, and the rolc of outsidc mcrchants, particularly Damascenc, but
also American and local Protestant missionaries, He emphasises the rolc
of outsiders fi'oJII di\'(~rse backgrounds in the growth of AJllman as a
city: Arabs (settled and Bedouins), Armenians and Circasians (<.:erkese),
Christians and Muslims, from the Jordanian towns and coulltryside.
and fi'om the neighbouring countries of Iraq. Lebanon. Palestine, Saudi
Arabia, Syria, and others. 7ll
The divcrsity of Amman society is the fi)cal point of Munif's
description of almost all aspects of life in the city: political, literary and
cultural activities, jobs and livelihoods, celebrations and social connections, Ill' shows in great detail how people's diverse backgrounds, and
social classes, are reflected in the way they dress and talk, the way they
joke and laugh, and how they mourn and bury their dead. 7 ! IlIterestingly. though, he says little about weddings or rites of passage.
Munif's narrativc reveals that diversity is what gives the city her
identity and makes her so much alive, It is the main dynamic that makes
Amman the city she was in the forties: tolerant and open to a lllultitude
of ideas, attitudes, customs, cultural traditions, languages and dialects.
\1unif highlights the integration of Amman's di,'erse population in a
relaxed blend that makes the whole city "a festival of colours, fashions
and dialects".i~ He even argues that the dynamic and harmonious relations of Christians and I\'luslims, Circasians and Arabs-including
Bedouins-in the same neighbourhoods, education and worl,place, has
85
LITERATURE AND AESTHETICS
made the city exceptionally tolerant. More than any other Arab city.
Amman was ready to accept women's unveiling and their presence and
work in the public space.~:l \1unif's emphasis on the positive outcomes
of social and cultural integration in Amman is such that we can saldy
say that diversity is the very distinct characteristic that makes the city
"human" and "humane".
While diversity is a running theme in Biography (1' (/ Ci~v and
deserves study in its own right. it is the human dimension of this diversity that is stl-iking. Munit: who delines the city as "the people... ~4 refers
to Amman as "the city of people"--just as she was the "city of water".
His narrati\e gives a dazzling picture of the city's array of people who
are brought to lile as individuals and as groups: men and women. old.
young and children. He makes Amman so alive with a broad spectrum
of ordinary people. politicians. intellectuals. professionals. artisans as
well as merchants and peasants. even charlatans. beggars and kids who
sell lollies. All are real people and have real names. but their tale is so
captivating it could be easily turned into a I;\scinating le~lture movie.
Among the leading characters that would be worthy of a novel. or
at least a short story in her own right, :Vlunif's maternal grandmother
stands out: the sharp witted and observant old woman. distinguished by
her Iraqi 'Abaya and her Baghdadi dialect. and by whom AllIInan seems
to be always judged by the higher standards of Baghdad and is usually
laund wanting. She is typical of the non-Ammani who enjoys lile in the
city but cannot help being critical of it. Hut she shares in the characteristic Anllnani tolerance towards others. It is perhaps no exaggeration to
say that she is often the real narrator of the story of Amman. Munif
has otten been accused of not giving enough scope to female characters
in his lictional cities.~5 In Biography fit a Cil;)'. the grandmother is quite
a centl-al ligure. who speaks her mind. criticises what she considers as
unacceptable political and social attitudes, and is a strong influence on
the outlook of the children and the young people in the house and the
wider neighbourhood.
Munif's story of Amman is crowded with other colourful novelistic
characters that we observe in various situations: at work. in the classroom. in the nearby lields. on the playgrounds. ill demonstrations and
at the cemetery. :\11 are brought to life in a narrative that clearly shows
Amman in the I(wties as a city still open to the countryside and not in
contlict with rural liIe. Ag-ainst this backgrollnd. we understand why
lile in this city was not alienating- or dehulllanising- in contrast with
images of larger or artilicially "modernised" cities as depicted in his
86
MODERNISM AND THE CITY: NIJMEH HAJJAR
novels. In addition, Munif demonstrates the Illullanity of Amman in
more than one sense. He shows that the problems of life in Amman
were more a result of natural or worldwide f(:>rces than being intrinsic
to the city herselt; and that it is the degree of comnllinity resilience in
the face of disaster, adversity and change that enables the people to live
without being overwhelmed by misfortunes.
Some modern anthropological studies have considered such aspects
of the humanity of cities. \Vhat distinguishes Munif's story from such
studies, and from other biographies and historical accounts of cities,~G
is not only his positive urban vision, hut also the place of memory in
his narrative. There is no doubt that Munif's rich experience of life in
various cities and professions, and his ahsence fi'om Amman filr almost
fi)ln' decades, have sharpened his memory. This enabled him to present
an analytical-but affectionate and intimate-portrait of the emerging
.Iordanian capital, not only as an insider returning to his city, but also as
a participating observer'. His novelistic skills hil\'e brought these observations and memories to lite again. \Vhile the author re-lives his memories of the city as one of her people, with the sl{ills of the seasoned
novelist he portrays the intimate details of her life. \1unif's narrative
conveys the story of a real, but moclern and human Arah city. It is a
story of a city no less f~lscinating than any of his fictional cities.
NOTES
Ahd al-Rah,"a" ,,1I1nil; Siral ,\[adtlla: ·.1mmallji II/-Arba''''''1 (Bt'inll: al-Mu'assa" al'Arabiyya, I9lH), p. ~!'fS.
All EII~lish H?rsion has bt't'n published as Slm)' '!fa CII\': A ('IlIMhood til .4/11l1/all. trans.
Samira Kawar (London: Qllartet Books, IDDri). lIt'rt', I use the Arabic text (referred [()
as BIOgraphy qfa CII\') li,r page rt'fert'nces.
:1 Mllni!; ,\ll1dllll II/-Mi/h, .; volullles (Beirllt: al-\111'assasa al-':\rabiy)"", 1DS+-!fJS!J).
Thre,' volllllles have app"art'd ill Ellglish translations hy Peter Therollx, Cili"s'lfSalt,
The Trellch. VariallOlls Oil S~f!;hl 'lIId 1)a)'.
4 Edward \\'. Said, CU/Illre alld III/paw/mil (Londoll: Villwge, 19!J4). p. ,~S(;. See also
"Novelist Ahd al-Rahlllall Munir MOllrned", in a/jadid: A H""le,,' <::: /luord of Amb
CII/Illre IIl1d Arl, '·o!. s, no. :11; (\Villlt'r 2(02), available onlille at http://www.aljadid.
com 1lea [llres/:-lovd is [:\ hda 1- Hahman MOll ""t'd. h [mIl.
S Tariq Ali, 'Tbe Kin~dom or Corruption: Tbe Salldi Connection", in Z:-IET (!l/2:1/ol),
bttp:! Iwww.zlllag.or~/alisaudi.htm/.p. 2.
(; RlOgmph)· '1'a CII\', p. S.
~ :-lizar Qabbani, I.a·i/'III bi-!I'Iall u'aha HI}'a Mq/illlhi, second edition (Beirlll: Qabhalli,
20(0), PI'. I !J()-I n~, lIa /:/av,.ul a/-Unlha 1//a' !!ul>bl, cOlllplete works. vol. 2, seventh
edition (Beirut: Qahl>alli, !!J!l,9), PI'. 2,;r;-:li!J.
S Muni!; 'Ur.val a/-Z'IIIWII a/-Rahi (Beirut: Bissan, 1!l!J7), p. .'I~.
!)
MUllit: Sil>aq a/-Masrif:1I ,Ii- T,/wi/a (Bt'inll: al-\111'assasa al-':\ral>iy)"", W83).
10 On the concept or spaee in Munil's nm'e1s, See Shll~ir a/-.\'al>u/si, Mada,. a/-Sahm':
DlrasaJl Arlab 'Abd a/-lIahlllall Mllllif(Beirut: al-Mu'assasa al-':\rabiyya, I !J9t), PI'. 2:122
283.
87
LITERATURE AND AESTHETICS
1 I Cited in al-Nabulsi, Madar al-Sahra', p. !!44.
I!! John Gulick, The HUlllllllil)' lif Cilies: /111 !lIlroduelioll 10 Urball SOclelies (New York &
London: Bergin & Gar\'ey, In8U).
13 Munif quo[ed in Tariq Ali, Sireet Fighlillg l'ears: All .'luloblOgraphy ~f'the Shlies, second
edition (London: Verso, !!()():;), p. [,K.
I·f Se.. in partin"ar his ·Unwlal-ZIIIIIIIIIIII-Bllhi.
15 John Gulick, The /llllllllllll\' ~lCilies, p. xv.
16 Edward \V, Said, /Jegmllillgs: "llelllioll '"111 ,\felhod (London: Granta Books, W97),
Power, Polilies IIl1d Culillre: lllienliews wilh r~d,t'IIrd IV S"id, edited and with an introduction by Gauri Viswanathan (London: Blooons!>ur)', !!oo+), p. +!! I.
17 Hiograph), 11a Cil)', PI'. 7 -~).
18 Edward \V. Said, Begillllillgs, p. 81.
HI Edward \V. Said, Oul ~/PI'I(t,: A Mellloir(London: Granta Bool;s, I~)~)D), p. xi.
!!() Edward \\'. Said, l'ou'a, !'ol,lles IIl1d Cllllllre, p. !![,7.
!! J lIishalll Sharabi, SlIwllr ,I/-:\Iadi: 8ml DIIIII!))'II, third edition (Swed..n: Nelson, Ems),
I/I-Jamr wal-liamad: Dhdrayal Mlllhalf'll!!,,/!rabl, third edition (Sweden: Nelson, I!HlS).
!!!! Jahra Ibrahim Jabra & :\bd al-Hahman Munil: 'Alalll billl Khara'il, s..cond ..dition
(Beirut: al-Mu'assasa al-':\rabiyya, I!)~)!!).
!!.'l Jabra Ibrahim Jabra, al-lil'r al-UI'I: FusIII 111m Sim Dhlll/))'a (I.ondon: EI-Hayyes, Wli7).
See also bis !I/II'aJashlll al-Nallllra wa :/1,'arcl Ukhra (B..inn: al-Ivlu"lssasa al-'Arahiyya,
InD!!), and Shari' al-/lllliral: Fllsllimill Sim DhaI/J~'a (Beirut: al-;vlu'assasa al-'Arabiyya,
IfJ!J+ ).
~4
Tariq Ali, "Far..well to Ivlunil: :\ Patriarch of Arab Literature", in COlI/llerplI/leh (31
January - I February !!OO+), h((p:1 Iwww.counterpunch.org/aliOI31!!OO+.htllll; Halilll
Barakat, al-l\flljla/lla' al- 'Arabi.!i al-QaTll al- 'Ish rill: Bahlh.li Taghal;\'ur al-Ahwal wal'Alillial (Beirut: Markaz Dirasat al-\Vahda al-'Arabiyya, ~()oo), PI'. ~ lU, PI'. ~81-8r;;
Shakir al-Nahulsi, Madar 'II-Salmi.
~5 Munil: 'UnJ'lII al-Za/llallal-/Jalu, p. I :l.
!!6 Biograpk)' ~la Cily, PI" 7-U.
!!7 \1unif, H'~rll al-Thall'!!;' ,,,,,I-Sirasll, sccond edition (Beirut: al-Mu'assasa al-'Arabiyya,
!!()()o). PI'. !!c!D-c!:lO.
~8 Sce 101' eXainple Munifs critical assessment of the I..ading Syrian painter, \1arwal1
Qassah Bashi: "Mill al-Basir ila al-Ishkali". in Mamlkij: (no. iO-7 J, 1!)~)3), PI'. 118-lc!i.
!!U Munif,
H")'II
al-Tha'/'!/iz U'l11-S()'asa, p. c!3U,
30 Munit: 'Unt'al al-Zlllllllllal-lialzi.
S 1 Munit: Ua)'11 al-T1l1l1l'ijiz wal-SI)'asa, p. 2,~ I.
.'l!! Munit: Ua)'11 al-Tha'/Iijil "'al-Si)'llsa, p. ~.'H).
3,~ Nizar Qabbani, QlSsallllla' al-Shi'r (Beirut: Qabbani, I D~:J), p. 15.
34 Ghali Shukri. BII~1 Hllbil: al-Nllqd wIII-Hlldalhll al-Sha,.,dll (Lolldon: EI-Hilyyes, WSfl),
p,I!!U.
35 Edward \V. Said, Pov.'e,., Polilies alld CIII/ure. p. !!5fl.
36 Se.. in partiwlar the prestigiolls al-Mllslllqbal 111- 'Ambl (The /Imb Fulure), pllblished by
the Centre Il,r Arab Unit)' Stlldies, Beirllt.
37 Mllnit: Ba)"1 al-Thaqqfil ,wl-Slyasll, Pl'. ~()O-!!Ol.
,~8 Biography 11" Cllr,pp. ~+.'>-~:,~.
:Hl MUllil: Ba)'11 al- Tlllllla.!il 1<'I"-,\'(\'IIS", p. I ~7,
40 Mllnit: Hili'll al-Tlrll'/qfh ,"'"/-S~ras", PI'· 1~)8,pp. ~O()-c!()l.
88
MODERNISM AND THE CITY: NIJMEH HAJJAR
41 See !'Iijllleh Ha.iiar, "Alllet'll Hihalli's HUlllallist Visioll of .\rah l\atiollalislll", ill Allwell
Hihalli: Bridgillg East alld \Vest: A Piollet'rill/; Call fin- .\rah-Amcricall Ullderstandillg, l\athall 1"11111< alld Betty Sit1<a (eds) (La"ha'" & Oxtlml: Ulli\'ersity Press of
America, 2(04), pp. I~H-147.
BapI al-Tha,!,!!a wal-Simsa, pp. IDS-201.
'Ur",al al,Zalllall ai-Bah!, pp. 7-11.
44 MUlli!: BaYII al-TlUI,!I!!a U'al-Si)'asa, p. 230.
45 MUllif, AI- 'Ira,,: /-Iaa'amish mill al-Tankh 1ml-MII"mmma (Beirut: al-:\1ar1<a1. al-Tha"ali
42 Mlllli!:
4:1 MUllif,
al-'Arabi,
2()0~),
p. 7.
J>ou''''', Polillcs olld Clllillre, p. 421.
BiogmphY<ifa CII)', pp. 11-25.
4S MUllil: AI- 'Jra,!, pp. 10:'-110.
49 Biography ofa Ci~r, p. 272
50 Biography 'If a Ci/l', I'p. 1.~-24.
51 BIOgraph), ~fa Cilr, p. ,'IS.
S:1 See Hisha," Sharahi, !\fllliaddilllal !I-f)ira.'al al-J/II}lall/a' al- '/lrabi, sixth editioll
4(i Edw'ml \V. Said,
47
(Swedell: l\elsoll, 1,')99), p. 15G.
:'.'1
:,·f
:.:.
:'6
57
5H
S,')
60
GI
G2
6.~
G4
(i:;
GG
G7
r,8
GD
70
71
Biograph), 'if a CII)', p. 19.'1.
Biography <!fa Ci/l', I'p. 5 I-Ii!). PI'. I HI-I ,')8, PI'. 21 1-22'f. pp. 228-2:1:1.
Biograph), ofa C,ly, p. 270.
Biographyofa ClI)', pp. 71-7R, pp. 1,'1:'-14-1-, PI'. ID,')-21O, PI'. 22:'-24.'1.
Hiographr '!fa Cill', pp. 199-~!I0.
Biography 'if II Cil)'. PI'. 202-204, PI'· 22:1-24.'1.
Hiogr"ph)' lifa Cil\', PI'. 2(1;'-20r,.
Hiography 'if a Cily, p. 7:1, p. I:; I, p. 197.
Biography <i!a CII)', p. 7.~.
Biography 111'" CII)', p. 101.
Biog,.ap}~v ~fa Cil)', PI'. 120-123.
Biography 'ifa Cil\', PI'. 10.'1-106.
Biography If a CIl)'. p. G5, p. I 1.'1, p. 1 I G, p. I SO.
Biography (!fa CII\', p. 170. PI'. 1.'IO-I.'l<i.
BlOgr.zph)' ofa Ci~I" PI'. 127-lIn.
Biography <!fa Cil)', p. 127.
Biography <!fa Cil)', PI'. 127-1.90, pp. 24S-15 I.
Blogmphy l!f a Cil)', p. 'f,'I, PI'. 7G-79, p. !>,'I, p. 12~, I'p. IX I-I!>.'I.
Biogmphy If a CIl)', PI'. 25-28, pp. S7-,'J.'J, 1'1'. 1.'10-1,'12,1'1'. ISO-180, PI'. 211-224, PI'·
~!io-~(H),
Biographl' <i!a CII)', p. ,'H
Biographv 'if a Cil)', p. D2, p. 2:,+.
7+ Hiograj'hy 'if a ClI)', 1'1'. :'-6, p. 2.'>.
75 MUllil: BaYll al-TlUl,!a}lu'al-Si)'asa, p. 14!J. See also Shallir al-Nab"lsi, }\fadaral-Sahm',
72
7.Q
1'.4+4.
l-'nda\', SlIlIda\': Chill'las ji'oll/ a BIOgraphy 'if a Cil)'
}\fed,leml/leall, trails. Haghid Nahhas (Sydlley: nalilllat, 200:;).
7G For cxallll'le, nhaled Ziade,
Oil
Ihe
89