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When the French President Emmanuel Macron opened a new Louvre museum in Abu Dhabi this month, he said it would show how beauty was more powerful than hate. The museum wants to promote cultural exchange between West and East – as Amanda Morrow found out, when she was one of the very first visitors to the new Louvre Abu Dhabi.
Iraq’s Kurds have been making international headlines since September after forging ahead with their independence referendum, despite regional and international warnings. They are the only one of the Middle East's Kurdish communities to have their own regional government. The other notable communities are in Turkey, Iran and Syria. So who are the Kurds?
“They are a separate ethnic group, living in the Middle East where Turkey, Iran, Syria and Iraq meet. They have been there as long as we know,” says Michael Gunter, a professor at the Tennessee Technological University, who has been researching and writing about the Kurds for over 30 years.
And as Gérard Gauthier, an anthropologist and researcher at the Kurdish Institute of Paris, adds ”You also have Kurds in the former Soviet Union [….] There have been Kurds in Pakistan, in Afghanistan, in Georgia, you even have Kurds, I suspect, in China as well. So they are present in a lot of places. But basically the heart of their area is the Middle East.”
While an actual Kurdish state is harder to trace in history, the fact remains that the Kurdish people have been in the Middle East region since as far back as 400BC.
In fact, an ancient Greek general by the name of Xenophon details this in his work, Anabasis (The March Up Country).
“Xenophon was the head of a troop of 10,000 Greek mercenaries and they were working for a Persian king," explains Gauthier. "And they were defeated and they had to leave Tsifphon, which is near Baghdad, at the time and had to walk all the way back to Greece. At one point they found a tribe of mountain people who blocked their passage, and those people described themselves as Kardokhoy.”
It's hard to verify 100 percent if the Kurds were in fact this Kardokhoy or Karochi group and another theory states they are descendants of the Medes, an ancient people who lived in the north-west of what is now Iran.
“The Kurds themselves claim to be the descendants of the Medes," adds Gunter. "The Medes were an Assyrian empire in 612BC. But we're not absolutely sure of that. The origins of the Kurds are lost in history. But they certainly have been there for a long time."
The Kurds speak a language that is similar to Persian but unrelated to Arabic or Turkish. In fact, Gunter points out that the Kurds are a “separate ethnic group, completely different from the Turks and Arabs. [They] speak an Indo-European language, so they are related to the Iranians.”
Even though there was a common language and culture among the Kurds, as was the case among other ethnic groups in the area, Kurdish unity was often based on tribal lines.
This idea of fidelity to tribal lines goes back as far as the Middle Ages, says Gauthier, as it was important in “ keeping the communities together in times when you had the big wars and destruction” such as the Crusaders and the invasion of the Mongols. He adds that such events brought along destruction to the Middle East and so divisions along tribal lines would have been reinforced.
During the seventh century, Islam spread from the Arabian Peninsula, bringing another unifying element to the Kurds: religion. Although uniting the Kurds under one banner was not really what was happening. “Because at the time of the empires -- Ottoman empires, Persian empires -- even before when it was the Caliph and you had a united Middle East with a Muslim caliph, then you had a lot of different communities in there. You had Turks, you had Arabs, Persians, Kurds, and the people they had unity and the banner of Islam basically,” explains Gauthier. He adds that like the other groups within the Ottoman Empire, the Kurds would also have spoken several languages.
One famous Kurd from the Abbasid Muslim Caliphate was Saladin; he was a sultan, though he also received the title of king, but he was known for leading Islamic forces against the European Crusaders. After his big victory, however, he was revered not for his ethnicity as a Kurd but simply for being a great fighter.
So we see that the Kurds have always been a part of the regional history of the Middle East.
But have they ever had independent states?
“Well into the 19th century there were Kurdish immigrants who by today's standards meet many of the criteria for independence,” says Gunter. “And there's an ancient Kurdish history called Sharafnama, written by Sharaf al-Din Bitlisi in 1596, in which he talks about at least five Kurdish dynasties or emirates in the past that had the attributes of what we would today call independence. So it's possible to say that in effect there were independent Kurdish entities four to five hundred years ago which were eventually wiped out by the Ottoman and Persian empires.”
Gauthier notes that al-Din Bitlisi was in fact a Kurd, although the manuscripts were written in Persian, since he was an administrator in the Ottoman Empire and also with the Savafid shahs, the rival Persian dynasty at the time. He began to put to paper the history of the Kurdish local dynasties. As Gauthier explains, Bitlisi wondered if they, the Kurds, had their own prince who could lead them; perhaps they would no longer be exploited by the Turks, Persians and Arabs.
So already by the 16th century, we see that the Kurdish people, under Ottoman rule by then, were feeling the pinch.
One mustn’t forget that under Ottoman rule, different ethnic and cultural groups were living side by side; but no one had independence. Each province, such as Syria, or Egypt, was ruled by a chosen representative of the Ottomans.
The notion of the nation-state as it is currently understood is a modern idea, appearing at the end of the 19th-century.
It was really after World War I, which saw the disintegration of the Ottoman empire, that the push for nation-states took effect in the Middle East.
“Obviously there was a big push for the idea of a nation-state with Kurds at the end of the Ottoman empire because the people had to choose,” says Gauthier. “A lot of those Kurds, they were generals, officers, administrators to the Ottoman empire, they had Ottoman identity.” And so when the Ottoman empire ceased to exist, many Kurds had to make a choice.
And this is where the Kurds may have had a chance to have a state. But don’t forget they had spent years spread out over the region. So when Turkey, Iraq and Syria all pushed for independent states in response to the mandates run by Western powers that replaced the Ottomans, the Kurds found themselves in the middle of it all.
“Then in 1918 when the modern state system was created, you created another division between Kurds: Turkish Kurds, Iranian Kurds, Iraqi Kurds and Syrian Kurds” explains Gunter. “That's been going on for a 100 years now. So that's another way the Kurds are divided between the four states that they live in.”
In fact, the Kurds almost had a state.
As the big Western powers were carving up the Middle East, the 1920 Treaty of Sèvres proposed a Kurdish state in part of what was to become Turkey, although the Kurdish nationalists themselves could not agree on what its borders should be.
But the treaty was rejected by the creator of modern Turkey, Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, who launched a war against the Greeks, Italians, British and French.
“He [Ataturk] first recruited them [Kurds] against the imperialists, saying we are going to set up a state, which will be a state of brotherhood between Turks and Kurds and when he won he told them there [are] no Kurds,” explains Gauthier.
Added to that problem was the fact that the Kurds didn’t have a central figure to bring them together to push for their own state at the time.
So they turned to the British. The British were in the north of Iraq and were initially interested in creating a Kurdish state, as a kind of buffer state between Iraq and Mustafa Kemal’s Turkey. “But then they discovered the oil, so they forgot about this buffer state,” says Gauthier.
So the Kurdish populations were absorbed into Iran, Syria, Iraq and Turkey.
But constant tensions between the Kurdish communities and their country’s governments have always been a reason for them to push for their own state.
In the case of Iraq’s Kurds, the US's 2003 invasion of Iras gave them outside support to set up their autonomous region, says Gunter.
But as Iraqi’s Kurds face the consequences of pushing ahead with their quest for independence, Falah Mustafa, the foreign minister of the Kurdish Regional Government says that the Kurds are “a different nation”.
Their efforts for independence have not worked out thus far, but “we tried our best, we went to Baghdad, we played a positive role. …. we should not be punished. We have to be realistic.”
The climate of media, particularly across the Middle East, is constantly changing and facing different challenges than in other regions. But up until now, no one has ever tried to put the habits of Middle Eastern nationals onto paper to truly understand what’s going on in terms of how people are getting their news.
Everyone loves the taste of authentic falafel - but where does this delicious dish come from exactly?
That sweet popping sound of boiling oil just before a falafel pops out: balls of bean goodness that have an international following.
Once the fried fritters, made of chickpeas or broad beans come out, they're thrown into fresh pitta bread and dressed with vegetables, and tahina…crushed sesame seed sauce.
Easy to eat, cheap to buy and everyone agrees they are the typical street food of the Middle East.
But ask about the origins and a conflict may as well break out.
“Well, falafel … there’s a little fight over that. There are those who will say it’s Egyptian, others will say its Lebanese and others will say it is Israeli. Whatever it’s from the Middle East,” says Yumi, the manager of a popular falafel stand in Paris.
Perhaps that’s the safest answer.
But with Paris having an ample Middle Eastern population, I decided the best way to answer this question was to eat my way through the different falafel stands in the city.
It's a tough job but somebody's got to do it.
For simplicity's sake, I've narrowed it down to Israeli, Lebanese and Egyptian falafel.
Before properly answering the question, one has to know that falafel is either chickpea or broad-bean based. Sometimes the two are combined.
Regardless of the preparation, the falafel itself is almost always eaten in a sandwich, generally in a flat type of bread.
Israeli-style in the Marais
In search of the origins of our favourite fritter, I began in one of Paris’s tourist attractions, the Marais neighbourhood.
What used to be a thriving Jewish neighbourhood before World War II, is now a rather gentrified and artsy part of town, complete with small museums and art galleries.
But the rue des Rosiers still upholds the Jewish past of the neighbourhood, with its bakeries, restaurants and falafel stands of the Israeli variety.
As the tourists flock to Paris during the summer months, the pedestrian street is packed with people waiting in line to grab a falafel sandwich from one of the four main restaurants.
I found a few people devouring their falafel and asked them why they came to rue des Rosiers:
Julie, from Paris “For me, it’s the best place for falafel.”
Zanthy, an Australian tourist: “I have had falafels all over the place; this is definitely on the higher scale of falafels.”
Everyone knows how to eat a falafel, but does anyone here know its origins?
Georgia, from the UK admits “I don’t know exactly, you find it in a few different cuisines from different countries.”
One American tourist gives a safe answer stating “It’s Israeli and Arabic; a mix between the two.”
So no one really knows. But then, while scarfing down a falafel, that’s likely the farthest thing from your mind.
Despite the lunchtime rush, the managers from two popular stands find time to discuss the origin of the fritters.
“I’d say it’s Israeli, but maybe Lebanese. Let’s just say Israeli-Lebanese,” says Elon, the manager of King Falafel.
When asked about the different preparations:
“I don’t know another type. Falafel with beans? I didn’t know. See, now you’ve told me that so I’ve learned something!” he exclaims.
“I know Egyptians mix it with beans. It’s called ful mudammas, but Israelis do it with 100 percent chickpeas” explains Yumi, the manager of L’As du Falafel.
Lebanese-style in Bastille
Over in the Bastille area, far from the tourist crowds of the Marais, the streets are lined with French bistros and pockets of Lebanese restaurants. One in particular serves only falafel.
The modern interior of Bar Falafel Bro doesn’t reveal its Lebanese origin. David, originally from Beirut, is one of the owners of the place. When I put the question to him, he smiles and explains diplomatically “Well, if you put the question to a Lebanese, he will say it comes from us. If you ask an Egyptian or a Tunisian or an Israeli they will call claim falafel as their own. But, for me, it remains international; a Mediterranean dish. The meal is very popular - it’s not even a meal, it’s a sandwich. A falafel sandwich is very popular.”
But when it comes to the origin of the word "falafel" David responds honestly, stating “I don’t know exactly where the name falafel comes from. I was born in Beirut and in Beirut it’s really the chance to go to the small businesses and grab a falafel sandwich which is very popular in the working-class neighbourood of Bourj Hammoud.”
As David and Yumi both mentioned, regardless of the origin, the falafel itself becomes appropriated by its country. What's a typically Lebanese falafel?
David explains beginning with the essential sauce, tarator. “That’s the well-known tahina sauce which accompanies the sandwich and the ingredients inside it, like fresh mint, turnip and in addition to that, in Lebabon, we always have a hot pepper on the side. That’s to say a hot pepper accompanies a falafel sandwich; that’s part of the tradition. There’s no sandwich without one.”
Egyptian-style near the Champs Elysées
Over on the other side of town, just a few steps away from the Arc de Triomphe, you’ll find the only Egyptian falafel stand in the city. Nestled on a side street, it’s easily missed if you’re caught up wandering the broad avenues of this neighbourhood.
Mickael, who was born in France and is of Egyptian Coptic background, is the owner of Micka Falafel.
When asked about the origins of the bean fritter, he quickly launches into an explanation, beginning with the word "falafel" itself:
“Falafel is a word used in the Coptic language that was the national language of Egypt back in the day," he says. "When one talks about falafel, it is about rolling the batter, which is made from broad beans, into balls which are then thrown into oil, creating a crust. It is this crust that is called falafel.”
In certain Middle Eastern countries, such as Egypt, falafel is also eaten for breakfast.
“If you eat falafel in the morning for breakfast, you need to know a little about where it comes from,” Mickael says when asked how he came by his explanation of the word's origins. That interest took him to his grandfather who can speak Coptic, and transmitted his story about the origins of falafel.
Food for the hundreds
Tamiya is another term for falafel, which is only used in Egypt.
“In Egypt 2,000 years you would find falafel and years after they changed it to tamiya,” explains Mickael. He says it was changed following the Islamic conquest of Egypt, when Arabic became the new language, so efforts were made to Arabise the country. The food falafel remained but, because it is considered a food of the people, it took on the name of ta’miya from tam, meaning taste, and mi'a, meaning 100. So food for the hundreds.
But another school of thought says tamiya is in fact a word rooted in the Coptic language, a successor to the pharaonic language. The term falafel in fact is the plural form of filfil, meaning peppers in Arabic.
So the name itself is highly disputed.
Whatever the origins of the dish and its name, it remains popular.
“A falafel sandwich will always just be a ball of chickpeas and beans,” says David. “The price will never be as high as meat and that’s why it’s always available in the working-class neighbourhoods.”
But chickpeas or beans? Could that be the determining factor in narrowing down the origin?
“When there was a large Jewish community in the country [Egypt], that’s when the difference in the preparation happened," he explains. "We began to see a mix between broad beans and chickpeas, so in Alexandria, in Cairo, in the cosmopolitan cities.
"But in the more conservative cities of the south, so in Minya or Asyut for example, which never really had a significant Jewish population and has remained relatively Coptic, falafel has always been made from broad beans.”
Pharoahs and beans
This idea of falafel coming from Egypt could be correct, given that the Coptic people, thought to be descendants of the ancient Egyptians, still maintain practices from those days. There is evidence of dried broad beans found in pharaonic tombs and at least one book cites pharaonic cooks as making bean fritters using mashed beans, garlic onions and spices; all ingredients native to the country and region.
Given that the Copts engage in many fasts, which forbid any animal products, during the course of a year, eating falafel during these times has always been popular.
And as Islam spread across the country and region during the 600s, falafel also became a favourite of Muslims, especially during Ramadan when it is eaten as an appetiser to break the daily fast.
Regardless of the country, the fact remains that the idea of a falafel spread from one country to another and stayed in the region.
And, as David stresses, “Each country has its own recipe. Maybe some with more chickpeas than chives, or with more spices. Those who add garlic or those who don’t. Each one makes the falafel recipe his own. Even if I were to say I’m 100 percent convinced its Lebanese, it wouldn’t make a difference, but I don’t believe that because, well it’s just very Mediterranean.”
In the end, no one really knows the true origin, though you might be able to come up with your own conclusion. Whether you love your falafel with chickpeas, or with broad beans, or both, it’s still delicious.
And it’s so good it even inspired a song, as sung by comedian Go Remy.
Saudi Arabia and its allies have ramped up pressure on Qatar since declaring a diplomatic embargo of the the small Gulf state earlier this month. They say the action is because of Qatar's links to Iran and support for the Muslim Brotherhood group but analysts see it as a power struggle over the future of the region.
On 5 June several countries, notably Saudi Arabia, Bahrain, the United Arab Emirates, Egypt, announced they were cutting ties with Qatar.
This is the first time such action has been taken since the Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC) was created in 1981.
Each day there are new developments, as the leaders of the pack -- Saudi Arabia, the UAE and Egypt – unveil new measures to block Qatar: stopping its access to their airspace, shutting down its ground border with Saudi and kicking out Qatari nationals.
The two main reasons for the cut in ties were said to be Qatar’s growing relationship with Iran and its harbouring and support of the Muslim Brotherhood (MB), which has branches across the Middle East.
According to David Hearst, the editor in chief of the Middle East Eye, this is really a play between three regional blocs vying for power. Bloc one is Iran and its state actors of Iraq and Syria and non-state actors of the Shia Muslim Houthis in Yemen, Hezbollah in Lebanon and the Iraqi Shia militias.
Bloc two is what he calls the old regime, made up of the absolute monarchs and military dictatorships that stand to lose from any government changes resulting from the Arab Spring of 2011. This includes Saudi Arabia, Bahrain, the UAE, Egypt and Jordan.
The third bloc is Turkey and Qatar, working in conjunction with the Muslim Brotherhood who momentarily took advantage of the Arab Spring to win support and, in Egypt's case, power.
Why now?
Hearst believes that this attack was premeditated and in fact follows on from unfinished business in 2013 when Egypt's then president Mohamed Morsi, of the Muslim Brotherhood, was ousted and the organisation was banned and driven out of the country.
While it is true that many of those who have fled Egypt since Morsi's overthrow ended up in Qatar for a time, many more ended up in Turkey, according to Eric Trager, of the Washington Institute for Near East Policy and author of Arab fall: how the Muslim Brotherhood won and lost Egypt in 891 days. "And, of course, Istanbul is where the Muslim Brothers and their fellow travellers have established roughly five satellite television networks which are very active in promoting the Muslim Brotherhood’s message, really across the region and as well as online.”
Essentially, the rise of the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt showed other governments what could happen in their countries.
Is fear of Muslim Brothers justified?
“The Muslim Brotherhood poses a significant threat to some of these governments” says Trager. “The MB's entire ideology is about replacing existing governments on the assumption that the empowerment of the MB is the same as the empowerment of Islam itself. The brotherhood equates its organisation and its empowerment with the victory of the religion more broadly.”
There is also some popular mistrust of the organisation, Trager explains. “Many people across the region, seeing as how the 'Arab Spring' turned out, are also wary of groups like the Muslim Brotherhood because they fear chaos more than they fear their current government,” .
The embargo also appears to have been made possible by Riyadh's confidence that it had Washington's backing. The declaration came just after US President Donald Trump’s visit to Saudi Arabia in May, during which Riyadh was able to secure the partnership of Washington
Hearst also sees the Muslim Brotherhood as being a main impetus for the cutting of ties, especially when the job that was started after Morsi was ousted, was never finished. “They [the states against Qatar] saw Trump as an opportunity to basically finish off the political opposition and the Islamists’ political opposition, which they call terrorists, but is actually political; and to do it now.”
Iran connection
The second reason cited by Saudi Arabia was Qatar’s growing closeness to Iran.
An alleged hack on the Qatari news agency, alleging that Emir Tamim bin Hamad Al Thani had congratulated Iranian President Hassan Rouhani on his election, led to the breaking of ties, the other GCC countries judging that it showed Doha was becoming too close to Tehran.
Qatar claimed the statement was fake news and, anyway, the other GCC countries also have relations with Tehran.
The GCC is not a cohesive bloc, Mahan Abedin, a writer on Iranian affairs points out, and its internal problems go back to before the present crisis.
Iran, says Abedin, is one of the many problems, but “they have territorial disputes, and in respect to Iran, it's long been divided. Oman, for instance, has very close ties to Iran, much closer than Qatar, because Iran and Oman have very stable and strong relationships stretching to 45 years when the former Shah of Iran intervened in the Dhofar crisis in the mid-1970s.”
Abedin notes that Oman, in fact, has a kind of “silent partnership with Iran”.
Added to the mix is Kuwait, which also has strong ties with Tehran.
But most surprising is the fact that the UAE, despite territorial disputes on three islands in the Persian Gulf, maintains a lot of contact, such as trade, with Iran.
“There are nearly half a million Iranians living in the Emirates,” Abedin says, going on to explain that “there’s only really two countries that Iran is having very a difficult relationship with. One is obviously Saudi the other is Bahrain, for obvious reasons. The rest of them, they're all divided, they all have their own specific issues and policies towards Iran.”
Latest ultimatum
The latest major development in this crisis was on 23 June, when Saudi Arabia and its allies handed over a list of 13 demands that Qatar had to fulfil within 10 days to end the siege.
Needless to say, Doha refused.
Abedin believes the list was really a clear step “towards escalation because these demands which were issued and formalised, they cannot be met. They are asking Qatar to shut down Al-Jazeera, basically they are asking Qatar to shut itself down. It's not really feasible.”
The small emirate has developed an international reputation through its news channel which criticises regional governments and opens a window on these countries to the rest of the world. The only caveat is that Qatar is off-limits for criticism.
However, Trager says that Al-Jazeera is vilified by the others because they believe it promotes the Muslim Brotherhood’s political message, something which inspires fear in these regional states.
Another reason for the insistence on shutting down the international broadcaster is the way it has opened up Qatar to the world. It has shown that Doha can be an innovator in the region, which Abedin says is exactly the problem:
"I think what this is highlighting is how closed-minded they [the Saudis, the Emirates and Egyptians] are. They have no vision for the region apart from shutting down voices, of crushing dissent, they cannot tolerate any new vision apart from their own. And I think this issue really highlights that they want to shut Qatar down mainly because Qatar has a different vision for the region, and they cannot tolerate that.”
Crisis continues
Qatar, one of the richest countries in the world, has been able to cope with the blockades.
But the diplomatic situation is starting to have an effect outside the region.
Ahmed Soliman, a specialist in the Horn of African at Chatham House, highlights one example - the Eritrea–Djibouti border dispute. Since 2010 there has been Qatari mediation of that border, including the presence of peacekeeping troops. That in turn had led to an easing of tensions between the two, as last year when Eritrea released four Djibouti prisoners.
But Djibouti has downgraded relations with Qatar, which has now stopped the mediation and withdrawn its troops.
"I think the reasons for this are in part of Djibouti’s downgrading relations with Qatar and possibly the existence of both Saudi and UAE deployments in Djibouti and in Eritrea at the base of Assab,” , explains Soliman.
As the effects of the embargo start to take hold outside of the region, Qatar has reaffirmed its willingness to find a resolution.
Speaking in Washington DC earlier this week, Qatari Foreign Minister Mohammed bin Abdulrahman Al Thani reiterated Doha’s commitment to ending the crisis, adding “we have stated consistently and unequivocally that Qatar is willing to sit down with our neighbours to discuss all issues pertaining to regional security and stability, so long as these demands do not infringe upon our independence and national sovereignty."
Al-Thani also noted that Qatar is willing to negotiate any “legitimate grievances with our neighbors, but we will not compromise our national sovereignty”.
It doesn’t appear the crisis will wind down any time soon.
On 30 June United Nations human rights chief Zeid Ra’ad Al Hussein said the demand for Qatar to shut down Al-Jazeera is an unacceptable attack on the right to freedom of expression and opinion.
Meanwhile, Qatar’s ministry of defense announced the arrival of a new group of Turkish troops at the military base to help raise the country’s defence capabilities and maintain security and stability in the region.
The drums beat a hypnotic rhythm. The fighters, each armed with a bamboo-like rod, display their footwork as they keep an eye on their opponent, accelerating or slowing down in time with the music. They move in circles around one another, often in duels between two, sometimes three or four at a time. This is Tahtib. This week - May 28 - the first ever tournament in Paris is being held.
To the majority of people, it’s an unknown sport. But in fact, it’s a 5000 year old martial art that comes from Egypt.
Adel Boulad is the founder of today’s Modern Tahtib. Armed with books on this ancient martial art and a passion to spread the word about this ancient sport, he sits down to describe in detail the origins of Tahtib.
He shows photos of what he claims are “the most ancient engravings we have in Egypt, [which] in Abouseer: between the pyramids of Giza and Saqqara and the Abouseer site”.
Based on these pharaonic engravings, it is now believed that Tahtib was one of three disciplines for the Ancient Egyptian army: archery, wrestling and figthing using staffs, or rods.
At the time, Boulad explains, the ultimate goal was to “destroy the other person’s head; today the aim is to […] graze it.”
Military origins
The rods that are used today are also lighter, and unable to inflict the same harm.
Although the ancient military training disappeared from the Egyptian landscape long ago, the art has itself remained ingrained in the culture across the southern rural areas.
"Gradually it was transformed to become a game; a rural game played in the evenings,” explains Boulad.
“You know, in Egypt you have at least four or five hours after the work [day] because the sun set is very fast, and no tv, [so] people used to stay together to chant, to have poetry and to play music and also with the stick; just to play with the stick, so it became a rural game."
Rural pastime
It has remained a pastime for men in the rural areas passed down through the family. "This was a traditional transmission from the father to the son, the uncle to the son, the grandfather to the son", explains Boulad. "This is now disappearing because there is no more traditional transmission."
He adds that at one point nearly 85 percent of the country lived in rural villages, versus roughly 15 percent today.
This rapid urbanization sparked warning signs for Boulad. He expalined: “ [I wanted to] safeguard this heritage and to develop it in a different form so it is suitable to the new Egyptian society.”
To the common Egyptian, knowledge of stick fighting is associated with the culture of the fellahin: the peasants.
It is also associated with the folkloric dance that made a resurgence during the 1960s under the Reda dance troupe, led by Farida Fahmy and Mohammed Reda.
Together, they fused elements of Tahtib along with baladi, or Egyptian folk belly-dancing that made its way into live performances and films. One of their famous dances involved a stick, which is why many people from that generation associate Tahtib with dance.
But apart from the Reda group or those living in the villages, no one really knew about the true Tahtib.
Just as many urban dwellers had done, Boulad admits he also overlooked the traditional art form, even though he himself had studied martial arts for over 30 years.
"After having snubbed [tahtib] for 30 years, I considered [it] for a long time as [a] folklore dance, not serious, compared to the other martial arts," he said.
"It's when I removed this wool from my eyes […], I discovered their way of talking to me in the same language as the Japanese martial arts....the Japanese masters.
I was really astonished in discovering that they have the same philosophy, the same thinking. This happened in 2000 and from that time, I said this deserves something else than only folklore dance."
Reviving Tahtib
What really struck Boulad is the fact that the country was sitting on a 5000 years-rich history, and nobody was doing anything about it! With his background in East Asian martial arts, he set about structuring Tahtib to spark interest to the people of today.
“When you look at the other martial arts, you will discover then in each culture you have what you call a form. In Japanese it's called kata.”
He explains the same phenomenon is also found among the martial arts in Korea, China and Indonesia. In all the forms, there exists a sequence of movements that includes rotation, distance, and so on.
It was this structure that was lacking in Egypt.
“This is what I created to facilitate the transmission," he said.
From that starting point, he created eight forms. Each form is made up of a sequence of 30 to 60 movements.
Here at the tournament in Paris, all the participants move in synchronization to the beat of the music. It’s almost like a choreographed dance, except each person is armed with a stick, and uses the movements to access his or her opponent.
Much like Brazilian Capoeira that moves to music as well, Boulad explains that in Tahtib the “music is here to kind of moderate or modulate the game to boost it, to catalyze it if it's too slow, or calm it down if it is too tough, and it links the game to the crowd.”
As the combatants encircle each other, deliberating their next step, the music slows down and the crowd claps in rhythm to the drums, adding to the suspense of the match.
Music aside, part of the art of Tahtib is also mastering the stick. Right from the onset of training, participants are taught how to develop control and power of the stick. The maneuvering of the stick sets up the defense and offense between the combatants. The sound of the ‘clank - clank’ as the sticks hit each other are done in a rhythmic fashion as well.
In addition to bringing Tahtib to the forefront of modern martial arts, Boulad did one thing that 5000 years ago was unheard of: he ensured it was open to both men and women.
Prior to this first tournament in Paris, due to be followed by one in Cairo in July, competitions were never held, apart from a display of fighting as part of a cultural festival in the Egyptian city of Luxor.
But as the modern sport continues to spread outside of Egypt, training clubs have opened up all over, including in the United Kingdom, the United States, Canada, the Czech Republic and here in France.
In fact, here in Paris, there are over five clubs that are competing against one another at this tournament.
While the traditional dress, still found in the villages, is no longer worn by the modern competitors, a red sash around the waste is required by all those training and competing in Tahtib, as it resembles a similar belt seen in the ancient engravings.
As of November 2016, UNESCO, recognized it as an intangible cultural heritage of Egypt.
That means Tahtib will now have the international backing to ensure the ancient sport cannot be appropriated by any other country, and its heritage will be maintained for years to come and martial arts’ enthusiasts can learn the discipline of staff fighting.
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