The Women of the Arabs

In Short

This book provides an expansive historical and sociological account of the status of women in Syria during the mid-1800s. Written by a long-term American missionary, it details the educational and spiritual efforts led by Westerners and local converts to improve the condition of women. Moving through personal memoirs, letters, and cultural observations, it explores the rigid social prejudices and religious isolation that made schooling for girls a radical, often dangerous endeavor. It remains a valuable record of how cross-cultural intervention and emerging educational institutions attempted to reshape a traditional society.

The Story

The narrative begins by establishing the difficult environment for women in Syria, where local proverbs and religious customs often relegated them to positions of ignorance and domestic servitude. The author, having lived in Beirût for seventeen years, paints a stark picture of the obstacles faced by early missionaries—namely, a profound lack of interest in female literacy, even among Christian sects. The core of the account documents the slow, methodical process of breaking down these "hoary" prejudices.

The story proceeds through a chronicle of the mid-nineteenth century, focusing on the establishment of schools for girls. It highlights the tension between the missionaries’ goal of elevating women through education and the local suspicion that such efforts were an affront to social and family order. As girls’ schools emerged in Beirût, Aintab, and Shemlan, the text transitions into a collection of individual experiences. Women like Sada Barakat recount their personal paths from tragedy—surviving the massacres of 1860 and the loss of family—to finding a new, meaningful life as educators.

The narrative also captures the human side of this cultural shift. Young girls, initially bewildered by the prospect of formal schooling, learn to navigate a world that requires them to abandon their rural, nomadic roots in favor of sedentary, academic life. The author recounts the "persecuted" students from Safita, who ran away from their boarding school because they missed the proximity of their calves and donkeys, and who viewed a passing carriage as a "mill walking."

As the decades progress, the book shifts toward the institutionalization of this work. It details the formation of literary societies, the success of native teachers, and the rising voices of Syrian men who began to advocate for the education of their own daughters. The story concludes not with a sudden victory, but with a sense of incremental progress. The author acknowledges that the work was often tedious and met with deep, ingrained resistance. The final arc is one of transformation: the original generation of illiterate, secluded women is gradually replaced by a new generation of educated, Bible-reading, and active participants in their communities. While the author remains firmly committed to his mission of bringing an "Anglo-Saxon" brand of Christianity to the region, the narrative concludes with the observation that the old systems of social order are beginning to totter, leaving the future in the hands of those he has helped teach.

How It Unfolds

The social landscape The author defines the setting by emphasizing the low status of women, noting that religious texts and local customs actively discouraged female intellectual development. He introduces the reader to the various sects—Druze, Moslem, and nominal Christian—and explains how the shadow of centuries of domination has left these populations in a state of intellectual stagnancy.

The missionary struggle The narrative moves to the arrival of the first educators, who encountered not just indifference, but active hostility from parents and church leaders. The author describes the "cold odoriferous wind" of truth he believes must clear away these old systems, framing education as a necessary, if difficult, spiritual and social labor.

Educational milestones The middle chapters document the creation of boarding schools and the sewing societies that funded local teachers. The reader is introduced to specific institutions, such as the Prussian Deaconess’ Institute, and the personal sacrifices made by teachers like Mrs. Smith, who ultimately dies due to the harsh conditions of her mission.

Voices of the pupils The book shifts focus to the students themselves, using letters and oral accounts to show how these young women experienced the transition to a modern, literate life. Their correspondence with "sisters in a land far away" highlights a burgeoning sense of global connection and internal growth.

Cultural preservation In a final, lighter transition, the author includes traditional stories and games from the region to show the humanity and vibrancy of the people he describes. He balances his didactic goals with a genuine interest in local folklore, including tales about the "Lion and Man" and the "noble flea."

The legacy of labor The final chapters look toward the future, noting that while the veterans of the mission are aging, the infrastructure for female education is firmly rooted. The book ends with a look at the printing presses and schools as permanent fixtures that will continue to challenge the old order long after the author departs.

The People

The book is populated by figures who represent the clashing worlds of Syria and the West. Sada Barakat emerges as a poignant figure of resilience, transitioning from a widow and refugee to a dedicated teacher of orphans, embodying the author's vision of progress. Raheel, a girl adopted by the missionary Mrs. Smith, serves as the primary example of the potential for a young Syrian girl to be "trained to habits of industry and truth." She eventually marries Butrus Bistany, a local reformer, bridging the gap between the mission’s efforts and the native intellectual class. Mrs. Smith herself appears as a tragic but heroic figure, whose health and life are sacrificed for the cause of educating children like Raheel. The Druze women and the Moslem boys are depicted as the "untouched" or "hard to reach" subjects, representing the immense challenge of shifting minds that have been historically conditioned to resist outside influence. Finally, the native priests and parents provide the constant, often stubborn resistance that the missionaries must navigate, creating the central conflict of the text.

In Its Own Voice

"The threshold weeps forty days when a girl is born."

This proverb appears at the very beginning of the volume to illustrate the prevailing cultural view of female children at the time.

"The effects of the Mohammedan domination of twelve hundred years have been to degrade and depress all the sects and nationalities who are subject to Islam."

The author provides this assessment when explaining why both Christian and Moslem populations were found to be largely illiterate at the start of the mission.

"Had neither of us the Word of God, the Holy and Only Book which is from one Father and a God unchangeable, to tell us that we have one nature, and have all fallen into one transgression, and are saved in one way, which is the Lord Jesus, we could not, as we now can, call you in one union, our sisters."

This is taken from a letter written by Syrian schoolgirls to American women, demonstrating the religious bond they felt with their distant, unseen benefactors.

What It's Really About

The central theme is the transformative power of education as a tool for social and spiritual liberation. The author frames the status of women not just as a cultural oddity, but as a direct result of centuries of stagnation and "ecclesiastical tyranny." The argument is that by teaching women to read—specifically the Bible—the missionary can force a crack in the shell of a patriarchal, tradition-bound society. There is a deep, underlying question about whether foreign intervention is the only way to modernize a culture, or if the "hoary fortresses" of the East must inevitably fall to the influence of Western institutions. It is a work about the labor of empathy, the weight of cultural difference, and the desire to impose one's own values to "elevate" those perceived to be in a state of darkness.

Why Read It Today

Readers interested in the history of global education, the colonial-era missionary mindset, or the nineteenth-century Levant will find this a fascinating, if sometimes challenging, primary source. It captures the specific, mid-Victorian conviction that progress is synonymous with Western-style schooling and religious conversion. Reading it today requires patience with the author's paternalistic tone and his clear, sometimes harsh bias against the cultures he describes. He writes with a mixture of immense personal affection for the individuals he mentors and a firm dismissal of the broader traditions he seeks to dismantle. The book is lengthy and filled with lists of students, financial accounts, and long translations, which can feel repetitive to the casual reader. However, the inclusion of native voices, traditional folktales, and the candid descriptions of the physical and social realities of 1870s Syria offers a window into a world that is fast disappearing. The persistence of the women he writes about—their desire to learn despite the "weeping threshold"—remains a powerful and enduring element that lingers long after the final page is turned.