A debate through Munazara's
Americans simply cannot imagine a world without Starbucks
and well, for that matter, a Tamilian cannot imagine life without his filter
coffee, to start the day. But you should all know that before the medieval
times, there was a happy and contended world without coffee. Slowly the new
elixir permeated into the drinking habits of the middle easterners and soon
became a world habit. But it created a furor whenever and wherever it was first
introduced, being the subject of many debates and discussions, getting compared
against all other popular drinks, alcoholic or nonalcoholic.
It is not just in South India that we have these long-drawn
arguments and extended discussions on which one is a better beverage, Coffee or
Tea. Well, these were common in the Middle East too and while out there, they
bring in other drinks into the discussion at times, the Qat (Khat) leaf which
is chewed (or drunk as a kind of tea) as a stimulant, and sometimes, wine.
In Tamil Nadu, coffee habits got segregated on religious
lines, with Brahmins popularizing coffee and the Muslims habituated to tea
according to Chalapathy’s research. In Kerala tea is perhaps a bit more
popular, while in Karnataka, coffee is. We have already discussed this at
length in previous articles. However, I have not told you about the impact of
this kind of an argument in the Middle Eastern literary circles, over time.
Arabian and Hebrew poetry are testament to the fun ways used to bring out
arguments over which is better. Let’s take a look.
It is a jolly discourse, at times occurring after the debaters or the arbitrator have indulged in some form of intoxication, who then go on to argue in a lighter vein on subjects which present no real merit when the parties are perfectly sober. We will look at a couple of these interesting debates starting with the Yemeni poet’s Hebrew Munazara between Coffee and Qat. Salom Al Sabazi was apparently the first Yemeni-Jewish poet to write in this genre. Dating back to the 17th century, the debate poem covers the merits and demerits of drinking one or the other. While Coffee, noting that Arabic coffee is usually drunk black, is familiar to our readers, Qat or Khat may not be. Very popular in Yemen, it is a leaf that is chewed, distilled as a tea or smoked. At one time, Jews were very fond of it until a Rabbi ruled in the 19th century that it is prohibited, and thus came about the maxim - qāt is the pleasure of the Muslims and grapes (wine or arrack) is the pleasure of the Jew.
The discussion or friendly debate is supposed to have taken
place between knowledgeable people, and I will quote the major excerpt from
the translation provided by Yosef Tobi, acknowledged with thanks.
Qāt said: There is no
pleasure like mine, all desire my branch, as I dwell humble in the garden. So
many youths desire me, the lucky one shall delight in my branch, The famous,
the graces of the pleasant. The fātihah
was composed for me and the dikr and the oath for God.
Coffee answered him
eloquently: My star has risen before yours, While I am served in cups, as a
fine beverage every morning, Often the generous and the bountiful Come close to
me, proximate, He who tastes me will be grateful and bless, And the fātihah is
the best verse
Qāt said: My name is renowned,
among people of pleasure it is known, I have a garb and appearance sounder than
yours, My Sheik Radwān diffuses fragrance, and so al-Ahdar is my celebrated
Sheik. In the day of delight and rejoicing, my turn at noon will happen, and I
shall entertain of an evening with people of grace
Coffee answered him: Hold! I
have a recognized Sheik like yours Al-Sadilī is my esteemed Sheik, the
luminosity of the mosques and the retreats My pleasure never ends He who tastes
me stopped there Every time my pleasure is served And I am content in the place
of nobility
Qāt said: Cease rebuking
Excess anxiety is not needed, I have a contract, I have a binding pact, One and
all wish for my banquet How many gatherings I have, I am related to every
matter, (Mount) Sabur said: My branch has increased If mind is turned to it,
and much more
Coffee answered him: Hasten, comprehend
my words and listen, my statement is a lesson for the body He who has delighted
in my bliss is content, I have collected all four humours from the Excellent
Doctor (God). The yellow bile and the blood, the black bile and the phlegm, No
one shall see any pain from me
Qāt said: My pleasure excels
I am recognized everywhere.
(Now) Tobacco came to give
evidence against Qāt, He told him: Why you are stubborn? The Devil, your Sheik,
has not come. Who trusted you and let you come to town Ibn al-MuΜayyad has
shouted at you And let you be burned in al-Amad. Tobacco turned away and spoke
no more
Requesting the judgment of
the adherents of al-Sadilī, Wine enters eagerly - He says: Why you are in a
quarrel? All is right and has good life, you have got payment in advance, you
have been forcibly taken by God’s Will, your pleasures suit each other, On the
day of happiness we shall all assemble, we shall dispel worry and sorrow….
And thus, the quarrel between qāt and coffee ends with the
intervention of wine, making peace between the two parties.
Now we come to a more recent Bahrini Munazara attributed to
one Abdallah Huseyin Al-Qari of Manama and dated to the 1930-1950. So, we drift
off to Manama, the capital of Bahrain, a period during the death throes of
pearl fishing and the oil boom in the Gulf, on a balmy Thursday evening. It is
weekend time, and the author is lying in bed and ruminating about the vagaries
of life. Nearby him, the coffee pot is steaming and the tea kettle bubbling
away. He is suddenly accosted by the male tea and the female coffee characters,
who request him to judge a dispute between them.
Coffee, the lady starts first, accusing tea to be Persian in
origin, an unwelcome guest and tyrannical in stature. She mentions that tea is
always strutting about with his polished spoons, Japanese crockery and ceramic
kettles. Coffee then claims to be the social counterpart of men while tea is
slyly sipped by women within their harems. Tea is not happy of course, and
retaliates by stating that coffee is as dark as a Malabar slave girl, and
bitter in taste compared to tea’s robust healthy red color, delightful
fragrance and a taste sweetened by sugar. Not only that, he soothes away men’s
pains, helps him relax from work and stress, and is not only a drink which can
waken men, but also put them to sleep.
Tea continues with the comments that coffee is for the
uncivilized, wild men whereas tea is for civilized urban men, but hearing that Coffee
refuses to back down and states that tea not only corrupts youth, it also leads
to drinking of alcohol!
Soon the argument heats up and a slanging match ensues. The
two now become combatant, with coffee mobilizing her army of cups, coffee pots,
roasters and spoons to attack tea. Tea has no choice but to flee and seek the poet’s
protection, which he gets. The poet calms them down, and brings about a
reconciliation and marriage between the two who kiss, make up and pledge their
loyalty to him.
Interestingly in the debate, the coffee pot is the Malabar
lass and the tea kettle a heinous Persian.
With many thanks to Clive Holes
the translator, lets meet the gladiators.
Coffee
starts - Sir would you please judge between us, between me and this tyrant so heinous,
I mean this offspring of the Persian, a guest for whom all feel aversion, his
vaunts and his boasts sting like nettles, his bright polished spoons and hot
kettles, his saucers and Japanese crockery, and his red samovar – it is a
mockery! HE doesn’t know me or my color, how burnt in the pan I turn duller, or
when in the mortar they pound me, the Bedu (bedoins) rush in to surround me, my
sitting room is furnished with carpets, where, patiently, each on the floor
sits, they sniff me- their senses I’ve captured. They drink but one cup, they are enraptured.
But tea, into houses they slip him, so hidden veiled ladies can sip him,
unauthorized men are forbidden, lest they espy what must stay hidden. With me
though, there is always welcome, for all come they oft, come they seldom, if
strangers drop in, they are permitted, nay! Honored, by all that’s admitted.
Tea
retorts and turns to address coffee- He has fired himself upto full pressure, "D'you
hear all her nonsense?" he spluttered, "Let me speak, that'll all be
rebutted!"
The
poet, I said "Go ahead then, speak freely, Don't be anxious, my friend,
'cos I really To you will be kind, sensitivities mind, For anger is Satan s
work, merely!"
Said
tea to coffee – Oh! You burnt one, all blackened and crushed, your good looks gone,
You’re a slave-girl who hasn't been freed yet, A skivvy the Bedu still need,
yet How come you 're so proud and so haughty? Loquacity’s truly your forte! Yellow
one, shall I list your disasters, One by one to your Bedouin masters? You
dullard! Your real name is coffee, To all who imbibe, catastrophe! A fruit you
are not, nor a savor, Nor relief for the tired from their labor. But me, I give
all relaxation, I'm a balm, soothing wounds and vexation, I entertain in every
forum, they drink me with cheer and decorum, for pain I'm a cure you can
measure, When fed up, I offer you pleasure. I banish the sleepy-heads sleep, the
sleepless, I make him count sheep, your miseries cannot be numbered, who drinks
you by ill-luck's encumbered, in you there's no profit or use, who drinks your
drink, you cook his goose!
But my crocks are fine, oriental, you’ve seen that -
and these points essential – All love me, and love with abandon I strut like a
mighty panjandrum. To make you, though, what a performance! The roasting pan
first: prime importance! You 're pounded to bits in a mortar, Burnt brown like
an Indians daughter. Your darkness disgusts, there’s no question, But rubicund,
that's my complexion. My sweet taste, all praise and all hallow, You 're acrid,
and bitter as aloe, I'm sweet, oh, so sweet! sugar candy! My ambergris
fragrance is dandy, My red hue quite wins beauty's laurel, I shine like agate,
or sea-coral. My folk are well-mannered and civil, But yours mostly wild like
the devil. Oh! bane of the Arabs, no vain glory! You 're the dregs in your cup!
End of story!
Coffee
retorts - "Just pipe down! You are misguided, you are calves piss, by all
men derided! For washing up you are upto scratch, but the black girl, and you?
It's no match! With me, you in no way compare, but you meddlesome fool, still
you tut tut. You are a Persian dressed up, just a cheap fake, Best keep that
tongue still for your health’s sake, you slander me, claim I am a slave, when
really it is you that is my knave. My virtues too many to list, may name is one
everyone’s lips, while your name, you bird brain, is tea, time waster to all,
unlike me! You are only raised up through my rank, for your name, it is me you
must thank, I will make my point clear as I can, when someone bumps into a man,
and wants to invite him straightaway, what words pritheetea, does he say?
With
feeling he says "Come with me, Let's go home, dear friend, drink coffee!
He doesn't say "Fancy some tea? You wrecker of youth’s probity! Through
you many a young man's gone bad, Who once was a nice friendly lad, They even
drink alcohol too, That's Satan's work - all 'cos of you! They’ve even erected
tea houses in which our youth sit and carouses, they tipsily drink in a haze,
because of you youth disobeys! Now come and see our funeral houses, that’s
where bully, I wear the trousers.! Each man, wherever from who drops in there,
to pour him a cup, we take great care. And look at our elders' posh guest-rooms
With rich rugs and drapes they're all festooned, all puffed up, tea made as to
speak then,
Said
coffee "Clear off, treacherous heathen! Be quiet, don’t boast, the world
may rise up, one huge host! I've soldiers, of that you 're aware, Whom I'll
deploy now on the square!"
Said
tea "Hmm ... That sounds like a warning, Your threats don’t scare me, ( said
he yawning). You don't know that I'm in fine fettle, Oh brown-skinned one,
roast on hot metal!"
At
that coffee flared up and shouted, Her dregs all spilt out as she spouted,
"Rally round all my cups, coffee pots! And the copper one, biggest I've
got! The roasting pan too! Where's the ladle? He's won every fight since the
cradle! I want to teach this headstrong fool, This despot’s son, despot so
cruel, A lesson! Where's pestle, where's mortar? Where's the muffler and his
supporter? To stirring-rod war's like a sport, Come gather round now, all
report!"
They
shouted back "Ma'am! Present all! We're servants at your beck and call,
Who was it who dared challenge you? Oh grandest of dames, tell us do!"
She
said: See this wretch! See this rogue here? He claims that to me he's superior!
He needs to be brought down to earth, And have his nose rubbed in the dirt!
I’ll smash all his cups and his crocks, And all of his porcelain stocks, Every
samovar glass, and his kettle, His Japanese plates, too, I'll settle!"
When
tea saw her army was huge, He hid, and from me begged refuge, And, swearing by
God, he implored: "Send them back, pale or black, coffee's horde! From
mortar protect little tea. The pestle's attack might smash me! And don't let
pan strike as he could! If looks could kill, roasting pan’s would!
I
called out – Don’t fear the ability, of coffee dear friend, of nobility, to
harm you, majestic perfection, you have got this king’s royal protection!
Peace
and marriage
I
turned to her, joy on my face, Dusky maid, you of Malabar race, what is it that
caused your reaction, why have you sent your troops into action, it is
unpleasant, shame unprecedented, oh! Musky one, fragrant and scented, don’t let
this strange man aggravate you, he is teasing, just trying to bait you, I’s
like to wed you to this man though! Make you his, him yours, that’s my plan,
so, don’t fight one another for ever, please come and make peace, be together!
Said
she, Noble sir, I’ll obey you, god give you long life, And I pray too, that
you’ll be content all your life, and we will serve you without strife,
So,
acting on their joint concern, and sipping them both, each in turn, I wed them
with them for refreshment, they made peace, I feel contentment, for me you see,
love is a real mess, the newly weds laughed fit to bust! They kissed on my
lips, the two mingled at the touch of each other they tingled!!!
I could not help but laugh reading the last section. Well,
as you can see that my friends, may have been the story behind Chappi’s
discovery – as they call it in Kerala - Chaya + Kappi = Chappi. By the way,
there is indeed a drink called coffee-leaf tea, brewed from coffee leaves!!
As you saw, these poems exhibit a bit of ridicule and at
times, subtle racism or anti-immigrant postures. Coffee calls Tobacco as an Omani
vagrant while tea is an unwelcome guest from Iran, whereas tea describes coffee
to be an enslaved black female. Tobacco on the other hand terms coffee to be 'a
Singapore slut or a Malabar tart'!!
But the overall intent of course is to entertain the reader
with a minor moral overtone.
References
Sālôm (Sālim) al-Sabazī’s (seventeenth-century) poem of the
debate between coffee and qāt - Yosef Tobi
The rat and the Shtp's captain - Clive Holes, University of
Cambridge
The Bodleian manuscript of Asadī Tūsī's Munāẓara between an
Arab and a Persian: its place in the transition from ancient debate to
classical panegyric - Firuza Abdullaeva
Translations quoted with permission from the
authors/publisher, see below
Coffee – Tea poem - Tradition and Modernity in Arabic
Language And Literature, By J R Smart, p.p 302-310, Chapter 20, The Dispute of
Coffee and Tea, A Debate-poem from The Gulf - Clive Holes, University of
Cambridge, Pub Curzon Press
Coffee – Qat poem - Sālôm (Sālim) al-Sabazī’s
(seventeenth-century) poem of the debate between coffee and qāt - Yosef Tobi
- Proceedings of the Seminar for Arabian Studies 38 (2008): 301–310, Pub
Archaeopress
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