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THE GLOBAL AFRICAN COMMUNITY
T R A V E L N O T E S
DAYS AND NIGHTS IN TUNISIA
By RUNOKO RASHIDI
DEDICATED TO THE LIFE AND WORKS OF JOEL AUGUSTUS
ROGERS (1880-1966)
Allow me to say from the very beginning that I love
Africa. I love African people. And I especially love
traveling around the world in search of the African
presence. Nothing gives me greater satisfaction than
finding African populations and African artifacts that
I previously knew little or nothing about. And not
only is the search for things African exciting for me
personally, it gives me a sense of making a
contribution, however small, to the ultimate
liberation of African people. And so it was with keen
anticipation and lofty ideals that I journeyed on
April 1, 2006 for the first time to Tunisia, North
Africa.
Tunisia was country number sixty-one on my list of
international travel destinations that I have been
blessed to visit. The great pioneer, globe trotting,
Jamaican born African historian and journalist Joel
Augustus Rogers (a tremendous hero and role model for
me) is said to have visited sixty countries, and so
with country number sixty-one in my bag I knew that I
was in rarefied air.
Tunisia is a country about the size of the state of
Washington in the United Stated and lies nestled right
between the much larger nations of Libya, on the east,
and Algeria, on the west. On the north and northeast
Tunisia is bounded by the Mediterranean Sea. The
population is just over ten million people, most of
them Arab.
I don’t have the official statistics but there is a
small but highly visible population of African people
in Tunisia, perhaps as small as one per cent of the
total population. I was told over and over again that
most of the Africans in the country live in the
southern portion of Tunisia, and this would seem to be
the general rule for African people all over north and
northwest Africa.
Until a few weeks ago, I confess, I had no real
interest in going to Tunisia. And then three things
happened to change it all around. First factor, having
a good travel agent.
The second turning point in my decision to travel to
Tunisia came from my January 2006 journey to Lebanon.
In order to get the cheapest possible ticket to
Lebanon I booked an Alitalia flight from Paris to
Milan, from there to Rome and finally to Beirut. It
took the better part of a day to get to where I wanted
to go, and I had a lot time to fill. While waiting in
the airport in Rome or Milan (I forget which city) I
noticed that the most crowded flight was headed to
Tunis. I looked at the folks in line waiting to board
the flight (I think that I even saw an African or two
in the line) and my interest was piqued. I thought,
well hey, if all of these folks could go to Tunisia,
why couldn't I go?
And then the third turning point came when my brother
Ali Salahudin of the d’Zert Club recently asked me
what I thought about a possible African-American group
tour to Italy and Tunisia. Well, come to think about
it, why not? Putting these three factors together it
became clear to me that my travel to Tunisia was only
a matter of time.
ARRIVAL IN TUNIS AND THE BARDO MUSEUM
From Paris I flew direct to Tunis. The plane ticket
was less than three-hundred dollars and the flight was
less than three hours. It was Spring time, and I was
due for another international trip. My beautiful and
adorable little baby daughter was almost seven months
old. She was happy and thriving, and I thought that I
deserved a short research trip-vacation.
But after arriving in Tunis, the capital of Tunisia,
things got off to a bit of a rocky start. It took a
good little while to get through customs and then
after I picked up my luggage there was no one to meet
me! So I changed some US dollars into Tunisian dinars,
and finally found someone holding a sign on which my
name was badly misspelled. After I identified myself
this person smiled, excused himself and introduced me
to my driver. Now my experience with drivers is that
they first shake hands and welcome you to their
country. Then they take your bags and lead you to a
waiting car. This guy didn't’t do any of that. He
uttered something inaudible, turned and walked away
with me following with bags in hand. No problem, I
thought, maybe I am just catching him at a bad moment.
Or maybe, I thought, that is just the way that they do
things here. So I got into the car in which I was to
be driven to the travel agency itself where I hoped
for a warmer greeting. But the official greeting at
the travel agency was only tepid. And the real wake up
call came when the lady representing the travel agency
told me that she was going to charge me a whopping
$240.00 per day for a car and an English speaking
driver (In Tunis everybody speaks French and Arabic)!
When I seemed perturbed she pointed out that the cost
of the transportation was included in an early email
that she had sent to me. I told her that I had
received the email but that the amount was so high
that I figured that it must have been for all of my
four days in Tunisia! I did not say as much but I
thought that the costs were outrageous! I left her
office with what we call in the United States “an
attitude.” And then I did not like the hotel that
driver took me to! So I went to another, much nicer,
albeit more expensive hotel. I negotiated the price
with the duty manager, booked my own room, and found
another car and driver that guaranteed substantial
savings, and my sour disposition soon showed a marked
improvement! So I dismissed my travel agent and headed
out “on my own.” Indeed, I found a taxi from the hotel
to the Bardo Museum that cost less than $2.00 US
dollars! The taxi driver even refused to take a tip!
The Bardo is the national museum of Tunisia. It was
the logical place to start my Tunisian journey and has
an excellent collection of mostly Roman mosaics. The
Romans were big in Tunisia and in the Bardo I found a
marble head of African born Roman Emperor Septimius
Severus and two similar heads of his son and successor
Caracalla. Of course, I have a great interest in these
Africans, and my new book, should I ever finish it,
will have a nice chapter on them. But the most
exciting artifact in the museum was a black limestone
head of a woolly haired African woman from Carthage. I
had never seen it in a book before anywhere! So that
first afternoon in Tunisia ended up on a very good
note.
That first night in Tunisia I tossed and turned all
over my mattress, as it had been very hot that day and
the air conditioning in the hotel that I picked out
had stopped working! It only emitted a rather loud
noise. But I had already seen a few Black folks in the
hotel and this made me feel very upbeat. I had an
excellent meal of grilled fish and vegetables, watched
the international news on the BBC, and reread volume
one of Langston Hughes’ excellent autobiography The
Big Sea.
KERKOUANE AND CARTHAGE
The following morning, my second in Tunisia, after a
light breakfast that I paid too much for, I was driven
to the tip of the Cape Bon Peninsula to the Punic city
of Kerkouane. My English speaking driver did not say
much along the way but he was not unpleasant and I
consoled myself with how much money I was saving.
Kerkouane is a beautiful archaeological site more than
two thousand years old. Although destroyed by the
Romans, excavations have revealed the remains of an
entire city right on the coast of the Mediterranean
Sea in the direction of Sicily. It was a clear day
with a strong breeze blowing, and there was hardly
anyone at the site when I arrived.
In the nearby Kerkouane Museum I found an exquisite
black (I think terra cotta) depiction of an African
man riding what appeared to be an elephant. Like the
piece in the Bardo Museum, it was a black image of a
African person. And, once again, I had never seen the
artifact in a book! And, just like the bust of the
African woman in the Bardo Museum, I took a lot of
photographs. I just hope that they come out well.
Speaking of African women, I saw quite a few those
days in Tunisia, and they were all beautiful and
friendly. I met a Muslim sister working at the
entrance to the ruins of Carthage and she told me that
Africans are only about one per cent of the total
Tunisian population and that most of them are in the
south. Does this sound familiar to you? But it seemed
to me though that they had to be a lot more than one
per cent of the national population unless a lot of
the Black folks that I saw were actually not from
Tunisia itself. (I did meet a really friendly African
family visiting Tunisia from Burkina Faso, West
Africa).
The Tunisian Muslim sister told me that things used to
really be bad for the Africans in Tunisia but that
conditions have recently improved. As an example, she
pointed out that today you can even see, in her words,
“beautiful Black boys with beautiful White girls.” I
just wished that she had used a better example to
denote progress!
The people in Tunisia seemed pretty friendly and moved
at a relaxed pace. As a matter of act, the pace in
Tunisia was nothing at all like Egypt. The big tourist
season was still a couple of weeks ahead and things in
general (hotel meals and cars and English speaking
drivers aside) were fairly inexpensive.
So that second afternoon in Tunisia, after visiting
the ancient Punic city of Kerkouane at the tip of the
Cape Bon Peninsula, I was driven to Carthage! The
African Muslim sister working inside the ticket booth
collected my admission fee. But it was not the ancient
African city state of Carthage or Khart-Haddas that I
visited. The Carthage that I visited, the Carthage
located in one of the suburbs on the outskirts of
Tunis, was largely the remains of the Roman city built
on top of the African settlement that the Romans
destroyed after three titanic wars.
Carthage was founded in 814 B.C.E. when a Phoenician
(from which we derive the word “Punic”) fleet from the
great metropolis of Tyre on the south coast of Lebanon
landed in what is now northern Tunisia. Phoenicia was
the name given by Greeks in the first millennium
B.C.E. to the coastal provinces of modern Lebanon and
northern Palestine, although occasionally the term
seems to have been applied to the entire eastern
Mediterranean seaboard from Syria to Palestine.
Phoenicia was not considered a nation, in the strict
sense of the word, but rather as a chain of coastal
cities, of which the most important were Sidon,
Byblos, Tyre and Ras Shamra. To the Greeks, the term
“Phoenician,” from the root "phoenix," had
connotations of "red," and it is likely that the name
was derived from the physical appearance of the people
themselves.
The Phoenicians were a coastal branch of the
Canaanites, whom, according to Biblical traditions,
were the brothers of Kush (Ethiopia) and Mizraim
(Egypt): members of the Hamite, or Kamite, ethnic
family. Spurred on by increasing population pressures,
the Phoenicians, who were becoming increasingly mixed
racially, had, by the middle of the second millennium
B.C.E. developed a prowess on the seas and were in the
process of establishing a network of colonies and
trading posts that brought them prosperity and eternal
fame.
Together with the local people of North Africa the
Phoenicians founded the stupendous city-state of
Carthage. Carthage (the original name was
Khart-Haddas) means the “new town.” For hundreds of
years it was the dominant nation in the western
Mediterranean and a colossal naval power. Then came
the challenges first by the Greeks and eventually by
the Romans.
At the height of her fame the city of Carthage boasted
a population of 500,000 inhabitants. The leading
family of Carthage was the Barca clan, one of which,
Hamilcar Barca, founded the Spanish city of Barcelona.
Of course the most famous member of the Barca family
was Hannibal Barca--perhaps the most distinguished
general of ancient times.
Hannibal was the great hero of Carthage during the
Second Punic War, lasting from 218 B.C.E. to 202
B.C.E. Indeed, Hannibal came within an eye lash of
defeating the Romans on the threshold of Rome itself.
Perhaps his most outstanding moment came in 216 B.C.E.
at the famous battle of Cannae when the Carthaginian
army, despite being vastly outnumbered, virtually
annihilated a Roman force of 80,000 men.
In spite of her early successes, at the end of the
third Punic War in 146 B.C.E., the Romans ravaged
mighty Carthage and burnt her to the ground. It is
said that the city burnt for forty days and only a
small portion of African Carthage remains. Its people
were either massacred or sold into slavery. The Romans
even plowed salt into the soil around Carthage so that
nothing could ever grow there again.
It was not until the time of Julius Caesar in 44
B.C.E. that Carthage was rebuilt, but this time as a
Roman city. But even now and without difficulty you
can use your imagination and see those sleek ancient
African sailing vessels sailing into port. You can
hear ancient African people talking with one another,
trading with one another. You can hear great African
generals giving orders to the soldiers and citizens,
nobles and commoners, of Carthage for the defense of
the city. Sisters and brothers, I felt honored to
stand on the site of ancient Carthage--a proud city
that African people gave their lives to protect.
That second day in Tunisia was a wonderful one and the
night was pleasant and uneventful.
DOUGGA
My third and last full day in Tunisia took me to the
ancient Roman city of Dougga to see what the Africans
of the Severan Dynasty had contributed. Historians and
archaeologists have commented that the region thrived
under these African emperors and I could hardly wait
to see it for myself.
The ancient Roman city of Dougga lies about 150
kilometers southwest of Tunis. Along the way I was
surprised at the countryside and the scenery. In
truth, the green rolling hills reminded me of my days
in California. The roads were good and once out of
Tunis the traffic was light.
In just over ninety minutes after our departure from
Tunis we arrived in Dougga. After paying the small
admission charge to enter the site I was approached by
an short, elderly Arab man in a gray suit. Like many
Tunisian men, he wore a red fez on his head. I found
it to be a sign of great distinction. He told me that
he was a guide and asked me if I desired his services.
I know now that a good guide is as important as a good
travel agent. His price was moderate and so away we
went.
As it turned out, my guide was sixty-eight years old.
His English was good and when I asked him how long he
had been a guide he told me with a big smile across
his face that he was born in Dougga. He had a good
sense of humor and liked to talk. He showed me all of
the major and minor temples, including the temple of
the goddess Tanit. Her temple he called “The House of
Tanit.” Tanit was the most significant of the female
deities in ancient Tunisia and her adoration survived
in spite of the Romans. I had already seen signs of
her importance amidst the ruins of Kerkouane.
Being an impatient man, it was not long before I asked
him about the contributions of the Severan clan.
Somewhat dismissively, he said that we would soon get
to it. I guess that he did not want to be pre-empted.
But he seemed to get a charge out of the fact that I
was a man with some knowledge of history. I gathered
that not very many African tourists came to Dougga
because, again with a smile, the guide said, looking
directly at me, that Septimius Severus was the first
African born emperor and that “he was the one with the
brown skin!” There was my cue, I thought, and just as
I had done with the driver and the African Muslim
sister at the gate to the Carthage ruins, I asked him,
“Where are the Black people of Tunisia located?” And
again, just like the others, he said that “they are in
the south.” When I pressed him about numbers and exact
locations he mentioned a city or two in “the south”
but could give no precise numbers as to the quantity
of Blacks in Tunisia. But he did say emphatically that
“everybody in Tunisia is the same and everybody is
treated the same.” He even told me that several
governors in “the south” were Black. And then we
visited the still impressive arch of another member of
the Severan clan--this one belonging to Alexander
Severus--the last representative of the Severan
Dynasty.
The old man turned out to be a very good tour guide,
and even though he smoked a lot of cigarettes and had
short legs he managed to walk me right into the
ground. All the time that I was huffing and puffing
trying to keep up with him he marched on with the
agility and dexterity of a mountain goat, while
constantly telling me to “take your time, take your
time!”
One of the most interesting parts of Dougga was the
reconstructed remains of an ancient mausoleum of the
family of the Numidian king Massinissa-- a man who
fought alongside the Carthaginians before abandoning
them for the Romans. The mausoleum is located at the
base of a hill, stands twenty-one meters high (taller
than the Colossi of Memnon on the west bank of the
Nile at Luxor) and is capped with a small pyramid.
Close to the Numidian mausoleum stand the remains of
the Arch and Gate of Septimius Severus. It was not in
very good shape but it is all that is left of a much
larger structure. But I had it all to myself! There
were no other tourists around.
Several times during the tour my guide pointed to what
he said was the road to Carthage. He even showed me
the chariot tracks. At first it did not make sense to
me but it finally dawned on my consciousness that
these ancient engineers actually constructed a paved
road that led all of the way from Dougga to Carthage
itself! And the road took you directly under the arch
of Septimius Severus! I tell you that I was really
impressed! The guide told me that reconstruction of
the Gate and Arch of Septimius Severus is supposed to
take place in 2007.
As an added bonus, the guide told me that the African
born Roman Emperor Septimius Severus was born in
Leptis Magna in Libya and that the ancient city was in
remarkable shape and that I should visit it. So now I
have every intention of visiting Libya and paying
further homage to the greatest of the African emperors
of Rome.
And on that note my guide bade me farewell. I paid him
his fee and even gave him a nice tip. That made him
very happy. He wished me a safe journey back to France
and the United States, and encouraged me, with a big
smile spread across his face, to bring some more
Africans to Tunisia!
So, sisters and brothers, in essence, that was my trip
to Tunisia, North Africa and I now have a much better
sense of what the exemplary jazz drummer Art Blakely
might have had in mind with his “Night in Tunisia.”
I had a good time on my all too short trip to Tunisia.
I learned a whole lot and look forward to going back
and visiting “the south” of Tunisia, and parts of
Libya as well. And don’t you worry. Even if you can’t
come with me I will be sure to keep you posted and you
will not miss a thing. So you stay strong and I will
try to do the same. Life is good, sisters and
brothers, and every day is a rich blessing. And my
next international destinations- -Morocco and Spain in
search of the Moors!
------------ --------- --------- --------- --------- --------- -
Runoko Rashidi is a constant traveler and lover of
things African. Join him on his historic group tour
“In Search of the Moors in Morocco and Spain” in
December 2007. Write to him at Runoko@yahoo. com or
call him at (210) 337-4405.
THE GLOBAL AFRICAN COMMUNITY
T R A V E L N O T E S
DAYS AND NIGHTS IN TUNISIA
By RUNOKO RASHIDI
DEDICATED TO THE LIFE AND WORKS OF JOEL AUGUSTUS
ROGERS (1880-1966)
Allow me to say from the very beginning that I love
Africa. I love African people. And I especially love
traveling around the world in search of the African
presence. Nothing gives me greater satisfaction than
finding African populations and African artifacts that
I previously knew little or nothing about. And not
only is the search for things African exciting for me
personally, it gives me a sense of making a
contribution, however small, to the ultimate
liberation of African people. And so it was with keen
anticipation and lofty ideals that I journeyed on
April 1, 2006 for the first time to Tunisia, North
Africa.
Tunisia was country number sixty-one on my list of
international travel destinations that I have been
blessed to visit. The great pioneer, globe trotting,
Jamaican born African historian and journalist Joel
Augustus Rogers (a tremendous hero and role model for
me) is said to have visited sixty countries, and so
with country number sixty-one in my bag I knew that I
was in rarefied air.
Tunisia is a country about the size of the state of
Washington in the United Stated and lies nestled right
between the much larger nations of Libya, on the east,
and Algeria, on the west. On the north and northeast
Tunisia is bounded by the Mediterranean Sea. The
population is just over ten million people, most of
them Arab.
I don’t have the official statistics but there is a
small but highly visible population of African people
in Tunisia, perhaps as small as one per cent of the
total population. I was told over and over again that
most of the Africans in the country live in the
southern portion of Tunisia, and this would seem to be
the general rule for African people all over north and
northwest Africa.
Until a few weeks ago, I confess, I had no real
interest in going to Tunisia. And then three things
happened to change it all around. First factor, having
a good travel agent.
The second turning point in my decision to travel to
Tunisia came from my January 2006 journey to Lebanon.
In order to get the cheapest possible ticket to
Lebanon I booked an Alitalia flight from Paris to
Milan, from there to Rome and finally to Beirut. It
took the better part of a day to get to where I wanted
to go, and I had a lot time to fill. While waiting in
the airport in Rome or Milan (I forget which city) I
noticed that the most crowded flight was headed to
Tunis. I looked at the folks in line waiting to board
the flight (I think that I even saw an African or two
in the line) and my interest was piqued. I thought,
well hey, if all of these folks could go to Tunisia,
why couldn't I go?
And then the third turning point came when my brother
Ali Salahudin of the d’Zert Club recently asked me
what I thought about a possible African-American group
tour to Italy and Tunisia. Well, come to think about
it, why not? Putting these three factors together it
became clear to me that my travel to Tunisia was only
a matter of time.
ARRIVAL IN TUNIS AND THE BARDO MUSEUM
From Paris I flew direct to Tunis. The plane ticket
was less than three-hundred dollars and the flight was
less than three hours. It was Spring time, and I was
due for another international trip. My beautiful and
adorable little baby daughter was almost seven months
old. She was happy and thriving, and I thought that I
deserved a short research trip-vacation.
But after arriving in Tunis, the capital of Tunisia,
things got off to a bit of a rocky start. It took a
good little while to get through customs and then
after I picked up my luggage there was no one to meet
me! So I changed some US dollars into Tunisian dinars,
and finally found someone holding a sign on which my
name was badly misspelled. After I identified myself
this person smiled, excused himself and introduced me
to my driver. Now my experience with drivers is that
they first shake hands and welcome you to their
country. Then they take your bags and lead you to a
waiting car. This guy didn't’t do any of that. He
uttered something inaudible, turned and walked away
with me following with bags in hand. No problem, I
thought, maybe I am just catching him at a bad moment.
Or maybe, I thought, that is just the way that they do
things here. So I got into the car in which I was to
be driven to the travel agency itself where I hoped
for a warmer greeting. But the official greeting at
the travel agency was only tepid. And the real wake up
call came when the lady representing the travel agency
told me that she was going to charge me a whopping
$240.00 per day for a car and an English speaking
driver (In Tunis everybody speaks French and Arabic)!
When I seemed perturbed she pointed out that the cost
of the transportation was included in an early email
that she had sent to me. I told her that I had
received the email but that the amount was so high
that I figured that it must have been for all of my
four days in Tunisia! I did not say as much but I
thought that the costs were outrageous! I left her
office with what we call in the United States “an
attitude.” And then I did not like the hotel that
driver took me to! So I went to another, much nicer,
albeit more expensive hotel. I negotiated the price
with the duty manager, booked my own room, and found
another car and driver that guaranteed substantial
savings, and my sour disposition soon showed a marked
improvement! So I dismissed my travel agent and headed
out “on my own.” Indeed, I found a taxi from the hotel
to the Bardo Museum that cost less than $2.00 US
dollars! The taxi driver even refused to take a tip!
The Bardo is the national museum of Tunisia. It was
the logical place to start my Tunisian journey and has
an excellent collection of mostly Roman mosaics. The
Romans were big in Tunisia and in the Bardo I found a
marble head of African born Roman Emperor Septimius
Severus and two similar heads of his son and successor
Caracalla. Of course, I have a great interest in these
Africans, and my new book, should I ever finish it,
will have a nice chapter on them. But the most
exciting artifact in the museum was a black limestone
head of a woolly haired African woman from Carthage. I
had never seen it in a book before anywhere! So that
first afternoon in Tunisia ended up on a very good
note.
That first night in Tunisia I tossed and turned all
over my mattress, as it had been very hot that day and
the air conditioning in the hotel that I picked out
had stopped working! It only emitted a rather loud
noise. But I had already seen a few Black folks in the
hotel and this made me feel very upbeat. I had an
excellent meal of grilled fish and vegetables, watched
the international news on the BBC, and reread volume
one of Langston Hughes’ excellent autobiography The
Big Sea.
KERKOUANE AND CARTHAGE
The following morning, my second in Tunisia, after a
light breakfast that I paid too much for, I was driven
to the tip of the Cape Bon Peninsula to the Punic city
of Kerkouane. My English speaking driver did not say
much along the way but he was not unpleasant and I
consoled myself with how much money I was saving.
Kerkouane is a beautiful archaeological site more than
two thousand years old. Although destroyed by the
Romans, excavations have revealed the remains of an
entire city right on the coast of the Mediterranean
Sea in the direction of Sicily. It was a clear day
with a strong breeze blowing, and there was hardly
anyone at the site when I arrived.
In the nearby Kerkouane Museum I found an exquisite
black (I think terra cotta) depiction of an African
man riding what appeared to be an elephant. Like the
piece in the Bardo Museum, it was a black image of a
African person. And, once again, I had never seen the
artifact in a book! And, just like the bust of the
African woman in the Bardo Museum, I took a lot of
photographs. I just hope that they come out well.
Speaking of African women, I saw quite a few those
days in Tunisia, and they were all beautiful and
friendly. I met a Muslim sister working at the
entrance to the ruins of Carthage and she told me that
Africans are only about one per cent of the total
Tunisian population and that most of them are in the
south. Does this sound familiar to you? But it seemed
to me though that they had to be a lot more than one
per cent of the national population unless a lot of
the Black folks that I saw were actually not from
Tunisia itself. (I did meet a really friendly African
family visiting Tunisia from Burkina Faso, West
Africa).
The Tunisian Muslim sister told me that things used to
really be bad for the Africans in Tunisia but that
conditions have recently improved. As an example, she
pointed out that today you can even see, in her words,
“beautiful Black boys with beautiful White girls.” I
just wished that she had used a better example to
denote progress!
The people in Tunisia seemed pretty friendly and moved
at a relaxed pace. As a matter of act, the pace in
Tunisia was nothing at all like Egypt. The big tourist
season was still a couple of weeks ahead and things in
general (hotel meals and cars and English speaking
drivers aside) were fairly inexpensive.
So that second afternoon in Tunisia, after visiting
the ancient Punic city of Kerkouane at the tip of the
Cape Bon Peninsula, I was driven to Carthage! The
African Muslim sister working inside the ticket booth
collected my admission fee. But it was not the ancient
African city state of Carthage or Khart-Haddas that I
visited. The Carthage that I visited, the Carthage
located in one of the suburbs on the outskirts of
Tunis, was largely the remains of the Roman city built
on top of the African settlement that the Romans
destroyed after three titanic wars.
Carthage was founded in 814 B.C.E. when a Phoenician
(from which we derive the word “Punic”) fleet from the
great metropolis of Tyre on the south coast of Lebanon
landed in what is now northern Tunisia. Phoenicia was
the name given by Greeks in the first millennium
B.C.E. to the coastal provinces of modern Lebanon and
northern Palestine, although occasionally the term
seems to have been applied to the entire eastern
Mediterranean seaboard from Syria to Palestine.
Phoenicia was not considered a nation, in the strict
sense of the word, but rather as a chain of coastal
cities, of which the most important were Sidon,
Byblos, Tyre and Ras Shamra. To the Greeks, the term
“Phoenician,” from the root "phoenix," had
connotations of "red," and it is likely that the name
was derived from the physical appearance of the people
themselves.
The Phoenicians were a coastal branch of the
Canaanites, whom, according to Biblical traditions,
were the brothers of Kush (Ethiopia) and Mizraim
(Egypt): members of the Hamite, or Kamite, ethnic
family. Spurred on by increasing population pressures,
the Phoenicians, who were becoming increasingly mixed
racially, had, by the middle of the second millennium
B.C.E. developed a prowess on the seas and were in the
process of establishing a network of colonies and
trading posts that brought them prosperity and eternal
fame.
Together with the local people of North Africa the
Phoenicians founded the stupendous city-state of
Carthage. Carthage (the original name was
Khart-Haddas) means the “new town.” For hundreds of
years it was the dominant nation in the western
Mediterranean and a colossal naval power. Then came
the challenges first by the Greeks and eventually by
the Romans.
At the height of her fame the city of Carthage boasted
a population of 500,000 inhabitants. The leading
family of Carthage was the Barca clan, one of which,
Hamilcar Barca, founded the Spanish city of Barcelona.
Of course the most famous member of the Barca family
was Hannibal Barca--perhaps the most distinguished
general of ancient times.
Hannibal was the great hero of Carthage during the
Second Punic War, lasting from 218 B.C.E. to 202
B.C.E. Indeed, Hannibal came within an eye lash of
defeating the Romans on the threshold of Rome itself.
Perhaps his most outstanding moment came in 216 B.C.E.
at the famous battle of Cannae when the Carthaginian
army, despite being vastly outnumbered, virtually
annihilated a Roman force of 80,000 men.
In spite of her early successes, at the end of the
third Punic War in 146 B.C.E., the Romans ravaged
mighty Carthage and burnt her to the ground. It is
said that the city burnt for forty days and only a
small portion of African Carthage remains. Its people
were either massacred or sold into slavery. The Romans
even plowed salt into the soil around Carthage so that
nothing could ever grow there again.
It was not until the time of Julius Caesar in 44
B.C.E. that Carthage was rebuilt, but this time as a
Roman city. But even now and without difficulty you
can use your imagination and see those sleek ancient
African sailing vessels sailing into port. You can
hear ancient African people talking with one another,
trading with one another. You can hear great African
generals giving orders to the soldiers and citizens,
nobles and commoners, of Carthage for the defense of
the city. Sisters and brothers, I felt honored to
stand on the site of ancient Carthage--a proud city
that African people gave their lives to protect.
That second day in Tunisia was a wonderful one and the
night was pleasant and uneventful.
DOUGGA
My third and last full day in Tunisia took me to the
ancient Roman city of Dougga to see what the Africans
of the Severan Dynasty had contributed. Historians and
archaeologists have commented that the region thrived
under these African emperors and I could hardly wait
to see it for myself.
The ancient Roman city of Dougga lies about 150
kilometers southwest of Tunis. Along the way I was
surprised at the countryside and the scenery. In
truth, the green rolling hills reminded me of my days
in California. The roads were good and once out of
Tunis the traffic was light.
In just over ninety minutes after our departure from
Tunis we arrived in Dougga. After paying the small
admission charge to enter the site I was approached by
an short, elderly Arab man in a gray suit. Like many
Tunisian men, he wore a red fez on his head. I found
it to be a sign of great distinction. He told me that
he was a guide and asked me if I desired his services.
I know now that a good guide is as important as a good
travel agent. His price was moderate and so away we
went.
As it turned out, my guide was sixty-eight years old.
His English was good and when I asked him how long he
had been a guide he told me with a big smile across
his face that he was born in Dougga. He had a good
sense of humor and liked to talk. He showed me all of
the major and minor temples, including the temple of
the goddess Tanit. Her temple he called “The House of
Tanit.” Tanit was the most significant of the female
deities in ancient Tunisia and her adoration survived
in spite of the Romans. I had already seen signs of
her importance amidst the ruins of Kerkouane.
Being an impatient man, it was not long before I asked
him about the contributions of the Severan clan.
Somewhat dismissively, he said that we would soon get
to it. I guess that he did not want to be pre-empted.
But he seemed to get a charge out of the fact that I
was a man with some knowledge of history. I gathered
that not very many African tourists came to Dougga
because, again with a smile, the guide said, looking
directly at me, that Septimius Severus was the first
African born emperor and that “he was the one with the
brown skin!” There was my cue, I thought, and just as
I had done with the driver and the African Muslim
sister at the gate to the Carthage ruins, I asked him,
“Where are the Black people of Tunisia located?” And
again, just like the others, he said that “they are in
the south.” When I pressed him about numbers and exact
locations he mentioned a city or two in “the south”
but could give no precise numbers as to the quantity
of Blacks in Tunisia. But he did say emphatically that
“everybody in Tunisia is the same and everybody is
treated the same.” He even told me that several
governors in “the south” were Black. And then we
visited the still impressive arch of another member of
the Severan clan--this one belonging to Alexander
Severus--the last representative of the Severan
Dynasty.
The old man turned out to be a very good tour guide,
and even though he smoked a lot of cigarettes and had
short legs he managed to walk me right into the
ground. All the time that I was huffing and puffing
trying to keep up with him he marched on with the
agility and dexterity of a mountain goat, while
constantly telling me to “take your time, take your
time!”
One of the most interesting parts of Dougga was the
reconstructed remains of an ancient mausoleum of the
family of the Numidian king Massinissa-- a man who
fought alongside the Carthaginians before abandoning
them for the Romans. The mausoleum is located at the
base of a hill, stands twenty-one meters high (taller
than the Colossi of Memnon on the west bank of the
Nile at Luxor) and is capped with a small pyramid.
Close to the Numidian mausoleum stand the remains of
the Arch and Gate of Septimius Severus. It was not in
very good shape but it is all that is left of a much
larger structure. But I had it all to myself! There
were no other tourists around.
Several times during the tour my guide pointed to what
he said was the road to Carthage. He even showed me
the chariot tracks. At first it did not make sense to
me but it finally dawned on my consciousness that
these ancient engineers actually constructed a paved
road that led all of the way from Dougga to Carthage
itself! And the road took you directly under the arch
of Septimius Severus! I tell you that I was really
impressed! The guide told me that reconstruction of
the Gate and Arch of Septimius Severus is supposed to
take place in 2007.
As an added bonus, the guide told me that the African
born Roman Emperor Septimius Severus was born in
Leptis Magna in Libya and that the ancient city was in
remarkable shape and that I should visit it. So now I
have every intention of visiting Libya and paying
further homage to the greatest of the African emperors
of Rome.
And on that note my guide bade me farewell. I paid him
his fee and even gave him a nice tip. That made him
very happy. He wished me a safe journey back to France
and the United States, and encouraged me, with a big
smile spread across his face, to bring some more
Africans to Tunisia!
So, sisters and brothers, in essence, that was my trip
to Tunisia, North Africa and I now have a much better
sense of what the exemplary jazz drummer Art Blakely
might have had in mind with his “Night in Tunisia.”
I had a good time on my all too short trip to Tunisia.
I learned a whole lot and look forward to going back
and visiting “the south” of Tunisia, and parts of
Libya as well. And don’t you worry. Even if you can’t
come with me I will be sure to keep you posted and you
will not miss a thing. So you stay strong and I will
try to do the same. Life is good, sisters and
brothers, and every day is a rich blessing. And my
next international destinations- -Morocco and Spain in
search of the Moors!
------------ --------- --------- --------- --------- --------- -
Runoko Rashidi is a constant traveler and lover of
things African. Join him on his historic group tour
“In Search of the Moors in Morocco and Spain” in
December 2007. Write to him at Runoko@yahoo. com or
call him at (210) 337-4405.
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