Among the texts recorded by the French scholar Gilbert Boris in the 1940s is a poem about the Italian occupation of Tripolitania at the beginning of the colonial endeavor. Since Boris died in 1950, the collection of texts in which the present poem appears, Documents linguistiques et ethnographiques sur une région du Sud Tunisien (Nefzaoua) (Paris, 1951), was published posthumously.
The poem, which Boris calls a “chant de guerre” was authored by Muhammad bin Ṣōf, sheikh of the Maḥāmīd tribe. The Maḥāmīd were among the semi-nomadic tribes of Tripolitania (then referring to a larger region than today, including what is now the south of Tunisia) who fought in resistance to Italian troops during the so-called Italo-Turkish war of 1912-1913. His grandfather, moreover, was the famed Ghuma al-Mahmudi, a leader who together with ‘Abd al-Jalil Sayf al-Nasr rebelled against Ottoman rule of Tripolitania in the mid-1800s and became somewhat of a legendary figure associated with revolt against foreign rule.* Muhammad bin Ṣōf, who himself was probably a young man at that time, thus had a great deal of suspicion and dislike for certain figures—such as Hasuna Garamanli, the target of this poem—who were thought to have colluded with the Italian colonizers and to have helped them obtain control of Tripoli.

Hasuna Garamanli and Italian military personnel observe the hanging of Libyan resisters, Tripoli, 1911 (Archives of Gaston Chérau, published in Schill, Pierre, Réveiller l’archive d’une guerre coloniale. Photographies et écrits de Gaston Chérau, correspondant de guerre lors du conflit italo-turc pour la Libye (1911-1912), Créaphis, 2018)
Boris relates that the poem belongs to a certain genre in which, as the poet recites, two other people repeat the refrain immediately after each verse. This refrain contains the poem’s main punch: “without you, you dog Hasuna, [the Italians] wouldn’t have occupied the sands of Zara”. In other words, Tripolitania would have resisted the Italians if Hasuna hadn’t sold out, enabling them to make inroads and eventually win at ‘Ain Zara, site of a decisive victory for Italian forces against Ottoman/Libyan ones. Think of this as, then, something akin to a diss track, one where the main insult is repeated with every verse. Here’s my (probably pretty rough) translation:
(Refrain) (The Italians) raised up their cannons with treachery, all night long continuing their fire, but without you, you dog Hasuna, they wouldn’t have occupied the sands of Zara! |
ناضوا المدافع بالخونةو بايت يوقّد في نارهلومك يا كلب حسونةما يسكنوا رملة زاره |
If not for you and your duplicity, sixty curses upon the traitor, a group well-visible came to you, you sold your faith for cheap, they wouldn’t exchange theirs even for millions, the sons of the tribes who smash their enemies! |
لومك وانت تتماينستين نعلة على الخاينجوكم جماعة معاينبدّلت دينك بالبارةما يبدلوشي بالملايناولاد العروبة كسّارة |
ّIf not for you and your servility, (the Italians) wouldn’t have occupied Bani Adam, you will be regretful of your deeds, your balance will tip towards sin, as you step onto the scale, on a day with no levity |
لومك وانت تتخادمما يسكنوا في بني ادمتبدا على فعلك نادمميزانك راجح قنطارةوانت على السنجة قادمفي يومٍ لا فيه بصارة |
The offspring of Gharyan came to you, the Italian took off and fled; a rich and thick seed, (for) ‘Akkara, the people of the sickle, they don’t reap the old man but the young one, bloodied in his belt |
جوكم ذراري الغريانيخرّم هرب الطليانيزرعه خصيب ومتدانيواهل المناجل عكّارةما يحصّدوش الشيبانيكان الصغير بكماره |
The offspring of Warfella came to you, they fell on those of little faith, among them are those who invoke the bismilla. With the molten ball and the bayonet, they waylay anyone who appears, and leave his bones dispersed |
جوكم ذراري ورفلّةطبّوا على قلال الملّةفيهم يسمّوا بسم اللهبحبّ الملوّى والزغارةكل من يبان يهيفن لهيخلّوا اعضامه شطّارة |
Muhammad, leading his people, sheikh of the well-known troop, a carnivorous bird, grandson of Ghuma, his beak reddened (with blood), among the gathered Italian army he raises a whirlwind! |
رايس محمد في قومهشيخ المحلّة المعلومةطير اللحم جدّه غومةيصبح محمّر منقارهجيش الطلاين ملمومةفيهم منوّض غبّارة |
Here it isn’t just that Muhammad bin Sof blames the loss of the positions at ‘Ain Zara and Bani Adam on Hasuna’s treachery. He also mentions several prominent tribes of the larger Tripolitanian region, who also seem opposed Hasuna’s capitulation and whose fighting he praises: Gharyan, Werfella, and ‘Akkara. He finishes with a little boasting: Muhammad, descendant of Ghuma, took care of the Italians!
Interestingly, the same theme occurs in another poem, recorded closer to the time of the events themselves but under totally different circumstances. During World War I, Germany operated a prisoner-of-war camp for the Muslim members of French and British enemy forces. Located just outside of Berlin, it was known as the Halbmondlager (“Half Moon Camp”) and its primary purpose was to indoctrinate the Muslim prisoners, primarily South Asians and North Africans, to commit acts of terrorism back in England and France.
But its prisoners also served as a captive audience for German linguists to use experimental techniques in sound recording. Thousands of shellac discs, the predecessor to vinyl records, were recorded in dozens of languages, by forcing prisoners to speak, recite, or sing in their native languages.** Some of these recordings were then published. A number of recordings in Arabic were published by Hubert Grimme, a scholar of Semitic languages, in a contribution entitled “Die Farbigen von Nordwestafrika” to the book Unter fremden Völkern: Eine neue Völkerkunde published in 1925.

South Asian POWs are recorded in the Half Moon Camp (Source: Lautarchiv, Humboldt University Berlin)
One text, presented only in German translation with no Arabic, was apparently recited by a female poet from Tripoli, who names herself in the poem as Fatima al-Kankusha. It too takes aim at Hasuna Garamanli. Though Grimme noted that “[the Libyans] disposition towards the Italians can easily be seen in the following poem which I recorded in the camp from a Tripolitanian female poet”, the poem actually only mentions the Italians obliquely (the “wild animals”) but directly addresses Hasuna, with insults, several times. Here’s the German with my translation:
O Tripolis, Stadt der schönen Paläste, Verkauft hat dich Hsuna an fremde Gäste. Dieses Jahr noch wollen wir ruhig sein: Gott wolle den Türken Hilfe leihn! Dieses Jahr noch wollen wir ruhig bleiben, Dann aber die Welschen des Landes vertreiben. Wer Tränen hat, weine sie mit mir jetzt: Voll Trauer, O Vater, ist mein Sinn und entsetzt. Ich bin aus Gasr bil-Gordan gekommen: Mich jammert, daß wilde Tiere es genommen. Ich brachte ein Mädchen heim (?) aus Gasr bil-Gordan, Nachdem sie mir Gewalt und Hohn angetan. Es nagt ein Wurm in meinem Innern; Wird Allah sich nicht seines Volks erinnern? Ich möchte mein Herz in den Händen halten Und es durchforschen, Falte für Falte. Doch, o Sohn der Hure, für dein Blut Gäb’ ich meines Vaters, meiner Großmutter Gut, Gäb’ ich Haus und Feld und des Herdes Glut, Wenn ich, die Fatma el-Kankuscha geheißen, Dich könnte an den Haaren vom Pferde reißen! |
O Tripoli, city of beautiful palaces, |
The German translation is rhymed and metered quite nicely, so one should probably assume that it takes some license with the Arabic original. Still, the poet’s antagonism to Hasuna Garamanli is quite clear. If these two examples represent a more widespread sentiment, especially among the semi-nomadic groups of the Tripolitanian hinterlands, it stands to reason that a number of poems criticizing Hasuna circulated.

“Hasuna Basha, a great friend of Italy, mayor of Tripoli confirmed by the Italian authorities”. Postcard made by E. Biagio Giarmoleo, ~1912
There might be more preserved somewhere, especially in Arabic collections published in Libya, but I don’t know of any off the top of my head. And also, I would very much like to know more about the poet Fatima al-Kankusha. It’s possible that documentation of her would exist in Berlin, but so far I haven’t found any audio.
*You can find out more about Ghuma in Bradford G. Martin, “Ghuma bin Khalifa: a Libyan Rebel, 1795-1858”, in Studies in Ottoman Diplomatic History, ed. S. Derengil & S. Kuneralp (Istanbul, 1990), or Muhammad al-Tawir, الشيخ غومة المحمودي على العثمانيين (Tripoli, 1995), or even Orhan Koloğlu, “Libya, from the Ottoman Perspective (1835-1918),” Africa: Rivista Trimestrale Di Studi e Documentazione Dell’Istituto Italiano per l’Africa e l’Oriente (63/2, 2008), pp. 275–282.
**This is the subject of a great documentary, the Half Moon Files. The records all form part of the Lautarchiv collection at the Humboldt University, Berlin.
Amazing!!! The poems are very enjoyable to read. Also this is a side of history I didnt know of! Thank you!
Q: Isnt the word بارة in the 8th line of the first poem the name of the italian currency at that time? So as if he exchanged his religion for money.
Also in the German poem “heim” has a question mark in front of it 😅 the word is correct though
LikeLike
So glad you enjoyed it! As they say…our history is in our poems.
بارة originally must have referred to the Ottoman currency since it comes from Turkish para “money”, but I think it came to be used for the lower denominations in general. But yes, it’s that he sold his religion for a few cents basically. The question marks in the German maybe reflect the translator being unsure what the original Arabic meant? I’m not sure, but seems to make sense anyways.
LikeLike
“Gasr bil-Gordan” must be Ben Gardane, no? (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ben_Gardane)
LikeLike
I kind of think so, but couldn’t find reference to it in that form. Although, Mednine used to be referred to as Gasr Mednine, so that part makes sense, and perhaps the al- has been dropped in the meantime.
LikeLike
Nice bit of history! “Gasr bil-Gordan” must be Ben Gardane, perhaps? Gasr bil-Gordan
LikeLike
The photograph by Gaston Chérau that opens this article is taken from Pierre Schill’s book :
“Réveiller l’archive d’une guerre coloniale. Photographies et écrits de Gaston Chérau, correspondant de guerre lors du conflit italo-turc pour la Libye (1911-1912)”, éditions Créaphis, 2018, 480 pages and 230 photographs. ISBN 978–2–35428–141–0
http://www.editions-creaphis.com/fr/catalogue/view/1171/reveiller-l-archive-d-une-guerre-coloniale/?of=14
https://bnf.hypotheses.org/6789
It is kept at the Bibliothèque nationale de France in Paris.
Pierre Schill
pmschill@neuf.fr
LikeLike
Thank you very much for the correct reference and the link, and apologies for not properly citing the photograph. I have updated the post accordingly.
LikeLike
What an excellent find.
LikeLike
Pingback: Another Poem from Old Tripolitania | The Silphium Gatherer | مجمّع سلفيوم