Author’s note: Many of the books and authors mentioned here are well-known. There are dozens more from writers of various nationalities, and only a lack of space precludes complete inclusion. It is my hope, however, that any bookish reader with an interest in Orientalism may find something to enhance their interest with some works still to be discovered. The prevalence of British authors here does not indicate prejudice, but does reflect the books that are actually on my shelves.

There has been much debate about the authenticity, or otherwise, of Orientalism and its influence on socio-political thought. The books and authors figuring in this essay had, with the exception of Kipling, Lawrence and Gertrude Bell, no political axe to grind. Most of them were travelers who found the East, indeed, “other” than what they experienced at home. Their quest was a personal enthusiasm for the Orient. I would contend that their writings and translations had no relevance to a debate about socio-political attitudes based on worldly devices. The world of the spirit is likely to be more enduring and, as for this world, socio-evolutionary investigation would be more apt.   

The British may currently be retreating to their island home, but in earlier times they were inclined to leave their homes at the drop of a hat. Those with the wherewithal journeyed away to sometimes sunnier and definitely more exotic regions. One of the noticeably inherent vanities of the British, however, was founded upon the notion that they were never actually foreigners in whatever region they found themselves beyond their own coastline.

Sir Richard F. Burton must have had a horror of doing a proper job because he went to extraordinary lengths to avoid a nine-to-five existence. Even when being extremely erudite, he was also eloquently funny in a sardonic sort of way and his dealings with the Oriental mind were tempered by a perfect understanding of the conditio humana, which means the state we are all perpetually in. For his two-volume Personal Narrative of a Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah, Sir Richard elected to travel by choosing a travel box to contain his necessities that was sturdy enough to withstand falling off a camel’s back twice each day. With a command of Farsi, Hindi, and Arabic, together with the dialects thereof, which he learned among tons of other languages and picked them up the way lesser mortals collect butterflies, he disguised himself as a wandering Dervish. He explored bazaars, frankly searching out the bizarre (which must surely be a derivative), and drinking countless cups of chai in his attempt to find rare manuscripts about Al-Islam.

The point of Sir Richard’s drop-out endeavor is that he certainly spent more hours daily than he would be required to submit to in a mundane job. There must have been the endless waits, the errant camel or donkey that refused to be moved, the aggravation of monetary negotiation. In 1856, Burton made clear his reasons for exotic travel. Notwithstanding his erudition, he was heard to maintain: “The gladdest moments in human life, methinks, is the departure upon a distant shore into unknown lands. Shaking off with one mighty effort the fetters of Habit, the leaden weight of Routine, the cloak of many Cares and the slavery of Home, man feels once more happy. The blood flows with the fast circulation of childhood…the glorious face of nature gladdens the soul”.

Many Orientalists went, quite obviously, in search of something ethereal, the atmospheric interludes in life that may offer a hint of the divine. If any reader has heard the hypnotic call to prayer from a muezzin, floating at dawn over palms at the edge of a jungle, they will know what I mean. The point is that although there may be a sudden crashing rise of birds, the voice itself does not shatter the silence. It really does float hauntingly as an isolated sound. The call to prayer heard in a city is often more strident but no less enchanting. One is struck by something stealthily all-encompassing, something impossible to ignore. Something that lingers in a suddenly pervasive brittle silence.

It was the likes of Wilfred Thesiger, whose Arabian Sands and The Marsh Arabs became must reads for devotees of the Arab experience. His memoir The Life of My Choice would seem to echo the sentiments of Burton. The intrepid Freya Stark gave us, among many other works, The Southern Gates of Arabia and Valleys of the Assassins. Her book Ionia is about the history of Asia Minor, Turkey today. She was heard to maintain, “I do like people who have not yet made up their minds about everything, who in fact are still receiving.” These resolute travelers fashioned the romantic notion of eccentric Brits plodding resolutely across an impossible desert on an understandably belligerent camel. Despite the political implications – which your correspondent suspects were sometimes a handy excuse – Gertrude Bell, who also translated Hafiz, and, of course, T. E. Lawrence, both seemed to be seeking the sort of satisfaction that only the delights of foreignness could offer.

Looming as one of those literary mountains that remains to overshadow all others is Charles William Doughty’s Arabia Deserta. Setting off from Damascus in 1876, the author endured the deserts of what were regions previously unexplored by travelers from the West. He found a way to become attached to the Hajj of his day and his account was couched in a somewhat archaic English. Initial publication was denied due to his inaccessible language but – and this is a personal view – if the first step in meditation is concentration then Arabia Deserta deserves to be approached with the sort of perseverance that can flower into the magic of immersion that great literature can offer. In this case one will feel the sand in one’s shoes and savor the odor of a camel train in all of its pungency. T. E. Lawrence defended and fostered further publication of Doughty’s recordings and also wrote a forward to an edition of the book. Charles Doughty, who was born in 1843, wrote his monumental work in 1888. Arabia Deserta eventually came to be known among discerning readers as being the finest travel book in the English language.

E. Lawrence’s The Seven Pillars of Wisdom, which became his magnum opus, was published in 1926. Lawrence was at first an archeologist who became enchanted with the Arab mind while passing through the Holy Land on foot. He felt a great affinity for the peoples he met in his travels, which can be sensed pervasively in his great work. The Seven Pillars of Wisdom tells of the political side to his nature but also relates of his unswerving affection for his Arab friends and his appreciation of Islam. By all accounts Lawrence was a man of some complexity. One senses a somewhat philosophical passion in his thinking. He adhered to what he would have likely maintained was “the rightness” of things – although capable of indulging in war. Well, many will have read the book, many more will have seen the movie. Whatever the outcome, we will be aware that this was Lawrence’s Arabia, a place in which he probably felt most at home.

We come, quite unavoidably, to Arthur John Arberry, a British orientalist who was born on May 12, 1905. His work was rooted in a profoundly scholarly endeavor and he cannot be counted among those who were simply fascinated by the exotic East as a travel destination. In his slim volume of biographies, British Orientalists, Arberry relates of the sustained passion for the Islamic world pursued by British academics, translators, travelers, and linguists of all stripes. This passion was inflamed at an early date and we read of a 12^th century philosopher, one Adelard of Bath, who preceded, according to Arberry, nigh on 100 others sharing similar enthusiasms. There were even more, of course, but Arberry names only the most prominent who made a solid contribution to Islamic studies. With more than 70 works to his own name, which includes his own translation of the Qur’an in which he attempted to retain the poetics of the Arabic original, Arberry was probably the most seriously academic of all Orientalists. One of Arberry’s most useful books is The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam – and other Persian Poets. Together with the Rubaiyat, in Fitzgerald’s first edition of 1859, and the fourth edition of 1879, the book offers samples of the works of twenty-five Persian poets – including Rumi, Saadi, Hafiz, and all of the others your correspondent has still to fully discover. Arberry’s The Islamic Art of Persia, is a wonderfully edited volume containing the writings of many Orientalists, which includes an essay by Vita Sackville-West who writes charmingly about Persia gardens.

R. A. Nicholson was a colleague of Arberry but his works are largely unknown to myself. In his Mystics of Islam Nicholson brings to light an expert appraisal of Sufism. Without demeaning his subject, the book is fashioned in a concise and easily understood way. A fascinating passage begins, “…seventy thousand veils separate Allah, the One Reality, from the world of matter and sense. And every soul passes before birth through these seventy thousand.” At the time of submission I can only offer Nicholson’s translation, from a different source, of a succinct burst of beauty by Hafiz of Shiraz, a poet Goethe proclaimed to be unsurpassed:

STRIFE

The calm circumference of life
When I would fain have kept,
Time caught me in the tide of strife
And to the centre swept.

Of this fierce glow which Love and You
Within my breast inspire,
The Sun is but a spark that flew
And set the heavens afire!

Edward William Lane’s Arabic-English Lexicon, a 3,064-page work from the 19th century, would appear to be something that could be a starting point for budding   Arabists. Lane is also credited with an acclaimed translation of A Thousand and One Nights. His most accessible work, however, and one often quoted by Burton, is his Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians, which was first published in 1836 and was to have several editions. The work is an astounding coverage of life in Muslim Egypt. Despite the obvious conclusion that what was modern in the 1800s is no longer pertinent today, Lane’s book covers what is indeed the very life of Egypt. His essays, chapter for chapter, are on characteristics and dress, infancy and early education, religion and laws, language and literature, ad infinitum. Lane addresses just about every conceivable aspect in his subjective social research. The work is further enhanced by the author’s own magnificently detailed engravings.

Rudyard Kipling’s works can be difficult to find in India today. His was an imperialist stance and he was a stout defender of the British army. Nevertheless, he came to write the famous… OH, East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet, Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God’s great Judgment Seat;

But there is neither East nor West, Border, nor Breed, nor Birth,
When two strong men stand face to face, tho’ they come from the ends of the earth!

The last line mitigates much that Kipling was accused of. Whether or not the British had good cause to be India will be debated until doomsday, and when Kipling published his poem, The White Man’s Burden, in 1899, he was accused of promoting the cause of imperialism. But Kipling did spread before us the magnificent panoply of the Indian subcontinent, and he was also recorded to have said, “Asia is not going to be civilized after the methods of the West. There is too much Asia and she is too old.” The Kipling Society in London maintains that he believed in British rule over India, but he did not hesitate to criticize the government savagely. It may be well to consider that Kipling was a man of his time and place. He was born in Bombay in 1865 of Anglo-Indian parents and he obviously knew and understood, and was largely sympathetic, to the colorful life around him. Only such experience could have made possible the publication of Kim, in 1901. Kipling produced an astonishingly varied wealth of works. He was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1907.

It has long been my personal love of good writing, despite having no special interest in the subjects at hand, which led me to R. H. Blyth’s inestimable Zen in English Literature and Oriental Classics, which was first published by the Hokuseido Press in Tokyo in 1942. Here is a survey to the finest detail of literature displaying the quality of the words transcending the confines of conventional literary usage. In this sense Blyth did not merely travel to the East but also sought echoes of the East in works of the West. Zen may be described variously as a fragrance, hint, nudge, or breeze that cannot be clutched though its effect can be observed, but with no sly wink seeking collusion, for therein is to be found the headache we call “mind.” Blyth’s works also include his investigations into Haiku poetry and Japanese culture. The writer’s approach to that indefinable essence of life that makes life itself agreeable, perhaps even acceptable, in its endless display of what could be called, to borrow and amend a phrase, the good, the bad, and the sometimes lovely.

Francis Edward Younghusband’s The Heart of a Continent is a book in which the author elaborates on the difficulties of travel in regions comprising almost inaccessible terrain. He took himself off from India to China, the hard way, and then found an even more difficult way to come back via the Gobi Desert, Turkestan, the Himalayas, with a great deal in between, then the Pamirs, Kashgar and eventually back home (but hardly in time for tea). Younghusband was indeed a nice man, a stalwart Christian but one who allowed much scope in his thinking for other religions. Younghusband apparently suffered greatly from mosquitoes on the way out. I would suggest that there could be an interesting discourse about why God created mosquitoes. I was put straight by a restaurant waiter in Kerala who maintained that, “God chose the mosquito to be India’s heraldic beast.”

The Canadian Colin McPhee is possibly less known, but should be wider read. His A House in Bali was first published in 1944. It is a transcendent book, one that makes reading a deeply satisfying experience. The author was a highly talented composer and ethnomusicologist who studied with Edgar Varèse and became a jazz critic of note. There were collaborations with Benjamin Britten to make their recording of Balinese Ceremonial Music for Two Pianos. He was also a friend of Margaret Meade’s family and figures often in Meade’s memoir of her life and work. It is McPhee’s obvious sensitivity that charms the reader. These were the days before Bali became a tourist destination, and the author captures the lingering, slow-motion lapse of time, and the throb of the gamelan gongs which reverberate with an insistency across the hills of that lush island that he knew so well and so lovingly described.

H. V. Morton was a British writer of note. In 1934 he published In the Steps of the Master which ran to four editions. Although the book related his efforts to trace the passages of Jesus through the Holy Land, Morton was a man of fine sensibility and he records much of the life in Palestine with inclusion of his encounters with the Arab fellahin, the common folk within the population. What was Morton’s greatest talent, which he showed in all of his works, was his equal degree of quality of content and refinement of literary style. The author opens with the following passage as he approaches the Holy Land from Egypt. “As the sun goes down, a stillness falls over Egypt. Water channels that cross the fields turn to the color of blood, then to bright yellow that fades into silver. The palm trees could be cut from black paper and pasted against the incandescence of the sky. Brown hawks that hang all day above the sugar-cane and the growing wheat are seen no more and, one by one, the stars burn over the sandhills and lie caught in the stiff fronds of the date palms”. The book also contains nearly forty of the author’s own fine photographs, mostly black and white, but beautiful and exemplary images of the Holy Land.

Beyatli noticed this unusual person, and could not help asking him the reason. “I am obliged to do it. Not only I, but are all Irish men and women,” said the Irish representative. “When we suffered from famine and disease, your Ottoman ancestors shipped loads of food and monetary donations. We have never forgotten the friendly hand extended to us in our difficult times. Your nation deserves to be supported on every occasion.” Ireland was ridden with famine and disease between 1845 and 1849. Also known as the Great Hunger, this famine had lasting effects: at least one million people died due to famine-related diseases and more than one million Irish fled, mainly to the United States¹, England, Canada, and Australia. Ottoman Sultan Abdulmecid sent five ships full of food supplies and funds as charity.

However, the British administration did not give permission for these ships to enter the ports of Belfast or Dublin. Taner Baytok, former Turkish ambassador to Ireland, recounts in his memoirs that these ships secretly discharged their load in Drogheda, a town approximately 70 miles north of Dublin. In May 2, 1995, commemorating this charity, the mayor of Drogheda, Alderman Frank Goddfrey, paid honor to Baytok and erected a plaque in the Westcourt Hotel, which was then the City Hall where Turkish seamen stayed.² Baytok says he first learned of this act of charity from an article by Thomas P. O’Neill published in The Threshold magazine in 1957. The Ottoman sultan declared that he would donate 10,000, but on the orders of Queen Victoria the British Ambassador in Istanbul informed the Sultan that he shouldreduce this amount, for the Queen’s donation was only 2,000. As noted in the letter of gratitude from the “noblemen, gentlemen, and inhabitants of Ireland,” the amount donated by Sultan Abdulmecid was reduced by the Queen to one thousand pounds.

Ottoman efforts to provide food and lessen the pains of the Irish people, despite political obstacles and the long distance, certainly deserves to be appreciated.It is a case study that should be analyzed carefully, not only as historical evidence for the friendship between two nations, but also as a perfect example that differences of race, religion, or language should not prevent humanitarian aid. This generous charity from a Muslim sultan to a Christian nation is also important, particularly in our time when Muslims are often unfairly accused of human rights violations. Likewise, the appreciative plaque and overall reaction of the Irish society in return for this charity deserves to be applauded. We hope that the Turkish-Irish friendship sets a model for peace among different nations.

Notes

1. Many American presidents have been of Irish descent whose ancestors immigrated to the USA for various reasons, perhaps the famine being one of them. Among the recent American presidents from Irish descent are John F. Kennedy (1961-1963), Lyndon Johnson (1963-1969), Richard Nixon (1969-1974), Jimmy Carter (1977-1981), Ronald Reagan (1981-1989), George W. Bush (1989-1993), and Bill Clinton (1993-2001).
2. Baytok, Taner, Dis Politikada Bir Nefes (A Breath in Foreign Politics), Remzi Kitabevi. See also Hurriyet, November 9, 2005, at http://www.hurriyet.com.tr/gundem/3497818. asp?m=1&gid=69; Tarih ve Dusunce (History and Thought), March 2003; Sabah, May 5, 1995.

Interpretations, assumptions and expectations

In situations of cross-cultural communication it is not only what happens or what is said that is important, it is how participants interpret the interaction which ultimately counts. It is this interpretation which guides our perception of meaning and our memory of other people. Most of us draw conclusions about others from what they say, or rather from what we think they mean. The gap between what we think others mean and what they intend to say can occur in any communication. This gap is often wider in cross-cultural contexts. This is evident when there is a lack of knowledge of the common language of communication, say English, which may he a second or foreign language to one or both sides. Less obviously the gap is often wider because in intercultural communication participants may not realize that they are using language in different ways which go beyond purely linguistic competence. Our consideration of cross-cultural communication needs to include: discourse competence in which conversations or texts may be structured using different principles; sociolinguistic competence in which language users may draw on differing ideas about who may speak to whom, on what sorts of topics, on what kinds of occasion, in what manner and for what purposes; cultural competence in which cultural norms and beliefs are used to interpret actions and language behaviour and to attribute values and interpretations to interaction. The problem is that our own perception of these aspects of language use is influenced by our own cultural background. It is all too easy to be unconsciously ethnocentric about such matters and to assume that our way is normal, logical or better than those ways used by speakers who come from other cultural backgrounds.

An analogy illustrates this point. In Figure 1 the middle item may be interpreted as a letter B or as a number 13, depending on whether it is read vertically or horizontally. Our interpretation depends on the context of what system we expect to use, in this example an alphabetical or numerical context.

In learning English, students need to be constantly alert for shifts in meaning as participants use varying systems and principles of interpretation. Objectively, the form and shape of the middle item in Figure 1 has not changed. Subjectively, the meaning can he completely different when the figure is seen in an alphabetical or numerical context. Different contexts lead to different expectations which in turn lead to different interpretations of the same object. Similarly, the context of our own culture may lead us to interpret another person’s words, behaviour or attitude quite differently from the way in which that person intends them to be interpreted. We may not be aware of the patterns of interpretation which members of a particular culture use.

In our own culture we can afford to take much communication for granted. Since childhood we have learned what word, normally mean, how and why things are said. Our own culture has provided us with a framework of working principles and systems of interpretation which most of us automatically use every day. We do not need to work out how to use greetings or apologies, how to respond to invitations or compliments, how to take turns or interrupt others, or what silences might mean. In learning to use a foreign language, however, we need to be aware that speakers of the target language may be using quite different assumptions and systems for such ways of using language. We need to become aware of alternatives. We need to expect the unexpected. We need to check our interpretations of what is apparently obvious.

Levels of communication

Language is like an iceberg: some aspects are visible with fairly obvious meaning, but a larger part is hidden or taken for granted.

The greater the foreign language skill in pronunciation, grammar or vocabulary, the greater the danger that the other hidden levels of communication may come into play. Participants on both sides will assume that they mean the same thing by different gestures or patterns of discourse, but in fact they often have quite different interpretations. Hearers often that if a speaker has a reasonable level of skill in the obvious areas of words, grammar and pronunciation then the speaker will he equally skilled in the other kinds of competencies. Often this is not at all the case, especially if the speaker’s foreign language learning has concentrated on language competence. Many learners of English have focussed their main attention on learning words and grammar. In many foreign language classrooms little attention is given to the role of culture and cross-cultural communication.

Words

For many students, learning a foreign language is all about learning words. The students’ aim seems to be largely to acquire a knowledge of a wide vocabulary, concentrating on new and difficult words. These students may not realize the importance of learning new meanings to known words, especially apparently simple words. However, simple words often turn out to have unexpected cultural meanings, as the following dialogue noted in Britain shows.

In this situation, A is an Arabic speaker, a visitor to Britain. She was only expecting a cup of tea and was puzzled by the offer of food. The British hostess (B) was upset that A had already eaten since she had, she thought, specifically invited A for food. The source of the misunderstanding is the word ‘tea’ which in Britain, especially among lower social classes, often means an early evening light meal. Although A speaks excellent English and is, in fact, an experienced university English teacher in her own country, she had not realized that a simple word like ‘tea’ can have different cultural meanings.

Similarly, ‘simple’ common words used in idioms can often catch out learners who are used to concentrating on ‘difficult’ words. The word ‘house’, for instance, takes on a variety of unexpected meanings in such examples as ‘The comedian really set the house on fire’ (the comedian got a good response from the audience, or ‘house’), The drinks are on the house tonight’ (the owner or manager will pay for all the customers’ drinks), ‘After the minister’s speech the House rose at nine’ (the members of the House of Commons, in the British Parliament, went home at nine o’clock).

Grammar

Grammar can often present unexpected difficulties in cross-cultural communication when learners of another language have not worked out the relationship between grammatical form and language function. This happened in the following example in Britain where a British person (B) wants to visit a Chinese student (C) in her room.

The problem ‘here is that the expression ‘do you mind it’ is a polite form of a request which anticipates a negative response, No, I don’t mind…’. C realizes that this is a request but responds only to the function, ‘Yes’ (meaning ‘Yes, do come in’). Since C has not responded with the expected negative grammatical form this leaves B to understand that she is busy (‘Yes, I do mind, I am busy at the moment’) . Fortunately, B did not leave immediately after C’s first response and the misunderstanding was cleared up.

Pronunciation

Clearly when words are mispronounced this can cause problems in cross-cultural communication. This usually happens when speakers have poor pronunciation or confuse words. Less obvious problems can crop up when fluent speakers of English, for instance, are influenced by local varieties of the language. This would be perfectly acceptable in local situations but can cause difficulties when English is used in international contexts. For example, Malaysian speakers of English may stress the second syllables of words like ‘colleague’ or ‘management’ where speakers of other varieties of English expect to hear the stress on the first syllable. Since the difference in stress is also accompanied by changes in the pronunciation of stressed or unstressed vowels (schwa) this can cause momentary confusion. More seriously, hearers’ perceptions of speakers of a language like English are influenced by the fact that stress and intonation commonly convey attitudes. Thus in English a heavy falling intonation can mean definiteness, abruptness or rudeness. Unfortunately, Arabic speakers who learn English have often not been taught this and they transfer Arabic falling intonation patterns to English. One result is that English hearers sometimes perceive the other group (wrongly) as being aggressive or pushy. A solution is to raise the learners’ awareness of the meanings of various intonation patterns in English and the attitudes which might be interpreted from their use.

Body Language

The same gestures or body language may express quite different meanings in different cultures. In Northern Europe yes’ is generally signalled by a downward head movement or up-and- down nodding. In contrast, in Turkey and neighbouring countries a common gesture for ‘no’ is an upward movement of the head, easily mistaken for the European ‘yes’ by those who are unfamiliar with Turkish people. Further scope for misunderstanding arises because the Turkish ‘no’ is often accompanied by a click of the tongue. This noise and the upward head movement means ‘you are stupid’ in Britain! There are cultural differences in the use of space, e.g. how close to others people expect to stand or sit. Many Latin Americans or people from the Middle East prefer to come quite close to their hearers when talking. This shows friendliness and solidarity. North Americans or Northern Europeans, on the other hand, tend to keep more space between themselves and hearers. This shows their awareness of the other person’s individuality and need for personal space.When speakers from the USA and Saudi Arabia, for example, come together they may feel uncomfortable without knowing the reason. Both parties unconsciously try to maintain their own natural polite and friendly distances, The American may feel the Arab is aggressive or pushy when the latter comes close, while the Arab may believe the American is unfriendly or untrustworthy if that person keeps moving away.

Further cross-cultural mismatches can occur in eye contact. Whether and how listeners look at a speaker’s eyes varies from culture to culture. One contrast seems to be that in Britain and the Middle East listeners gaze at a speaker’s eyes to show that they are listening and showing respect whereas in many parts of Africa and Asia this can signify disrespect or anger and be interpreted as insulting. On the other hand, the African or Asian manner of showing politeness, respect and honour to a speaker – by lowering one’s gaze or looking below the other’s eyes – can be interpreted as disinterest, suspicion or guilt by British or Middle Eastern listeners.

Even a smile can cause problems, as an American teacher in Taiwan discovered. One of her students arrived late. He was smiling. She became angry and said, ‘You are late and it’s not funny. Take that smile off your face. He then became very upset because she had publicly become angry with him. Later she realized that a smile is not always a sign of humour – the student was smiling with embarrassment. Such potential sources of difficulty are not likely to be pointed out by participants in cross- cultural situations. Openly drawing attention to misunderstandings may be thought impolite or over-direct unless the speakers are well known to each other.

Discourse Patterns

Speakers from different cultures make use of different discourse patterns in the way they structure information or interpret what others say. Even silence is used to structure discourse: participants know by the length of a pause that a speaker has finished speaking and they can take a turn. However, the exact timing of such turn taking can vary. Among many Greek speakers the pauses between turns are minimal; speakers alternate rapidly and overlaps between one speaker and the next are common and arc accepted as showing solidarity between speakers who understand each other. In contrast, in Scandinavia and Finland such pauses are often one or two seconds longer as members of those cultures show respect and perhaps think carefully about what they want to say. In cross-cultural situations between these two different groups it is very likely that English will be used as a common language of communication. Greek speakers report that they feel there are long silences between themselves and Scandinavians, which leads them to wonder if they have said something wrong or (given that Scandinavians are often highly competent in English) whether they have made a language mistake. As a result the Greeks feel rather insecure (unnecessarily). The Scandinavians meanwhile feel that the Greeks keep interrupting them. They feel (wrongly) that the Greeks are aggressive.

Important cultural differences can emerge when we consider where a speaker puts the main point. Chinese speakers frequently put the main point near the end of what they say. First they establish common ground and give relevant background information before they lead the hearer up to the main point. Sometimes this point only gets a brief mention – after all, it will be clear to the listener familiar with this discourse pattern where the argument is going. This kind of inductive discourse pattern seems to be oriented to the hearer. Many British and American speakers, in contrast, use a more deductive discourse pattern which is more oriented to the speaker in this second pattern the speaker usually gives an early indication of what is to come. Often the main point conies right at the beginning, especially if the speaker is answering a question in a formal situation. The idea seems to be to get to the heart of the matter quickly. Background information or supporting arguments follow. Since the hearer already has a good idea of the main point, it is clear how this background information will be relevant. Each of these contrasting discourse patterns is completely valid and can he taken for granted in its own cultural context. In cross-cultural situations the differences can cause problems. British people listening to Chinese speakers expect the main point to come quickly. Not hearing one, the British may become impatient or lose concentration and miss the point when it finally comes. Some British listeners report that they think the Chinese keep ‘beating around the bush’, they go round and round but don’t seem to get to the point. Chinese listeners expecting the background first often feel they do not get this information from British speakers so they sometimes miss the significance of the main point or do not see the logic behind it. It would help if both sides realized that for the British the background comes from the main point, while for the Chinese the background leads up to the main idea.

Sociolinguistic Uses

Sociolinguistic uses of language relate closely to discourse patterns, but there is greater emphasis on the social context and variation. For instance, to ask a person’s age, how much they earn or whether they are married is acceptable in all cultures, but in very different circumstances. To ask such questions of a stranger is normal in Turkey or China hut quite unexpected in Britain, America or Australia. Western tourists in Turkey or China may not appreciate the friendliness behind such questions. Instead they may think that local people are too curious about what they think are private matters or questions for job interviews. They would prefer to talk about the weather or their jobs (but these may not be such interesting topics in Turkey or China).

Part of the challenge in learning a foreign language is to learn how to manage [he sociolinguistic uses of the language. At a simple level this means understanding how greetings vary across the world. In China, ‘Have you eaten?’ is a greeting, not an indirect invitation to a meal. In Fiji or Malaysia, ‘Where are you going?’ is not always an enquiry about a person’s destination, but again is a greeting. In Botswana, a greeting is ‘How did you wake up?’. Each language also has many informal greetings. An Indonesian student in Britain (I) did not realize this when greeted by a British teacher (B) at a bus stop:

B Hello. How’s it going?

I I’m going home.

This left B puzzled. His greeting had not been returned and he wondered why the student mentioned he was going home. Later he realized the student was about to catch the bus.

The sociolinguistic uses of compliments can cause dilemmas about the nature of the expected response, as this dialogue between a Chinese speaker (C) and a British visitor (B) shows.

C Your Chinese is very good.

B Oh, thank you

This dialogue looks harmless until we consider what each speaker is thinking. C thinks B must be very boastful: B’s Chinese is not, in fact, good and C expected B to say, ‘No, no, it’s very bad’, since in Chinese a compliment should be rejected to show modesty. B is much happier: he has been complimented and he has thanked the Chinese speaker for his kind thoughts; he is not, in fact, immodest but is following the English rule that a response to a compliment often relates to the complimentary, not to the content.

Cultural Presuppositions

In many instances of cross-cultural communication it is important to understand the cultural presuppositions which lie behind speakers’ words and their expectations and interpretations. For instance, a Chinese student (C) asks a British person (B) for help.

C Can you help me?

B I would like to help you….but I’m afraid I can’t because….

When C heard the first words she was very happy, believing she would get help; when she heard the second phrase she was very disappointed. She thought, ‘Why did you raise my hopes and then let me down?’ She concluded that B was hypocritical. It would help if she understood the cultural presuppositions that B is using: first, to show good will and kindness by saying he would like to help, then moving to the main point that he cannot help before explaining why not. A Chinese speaker would probably give the reasons for not helping first before concluding that it was impossible: this would prepare the hearer for the bad news.

Many Chinese and Latin Americans respond to personal invitations by accepting to come, but when the day arrives they may not turn up. This has left many British and North American hosts puzzled, thinking: why did they promise to come, then break their promises? Can they he trusted? But this interpretation misses the Chinese or Latin American cultural presupposition behind their reply: it is better to show good will, by accepting and perhaps not go, than to refuse and bring immediate disappointment to the potential host. This shows regard for the hosts face, and for that of the person invited, who does not have to provide an excuse for refusing the invitation. Thus the Chinese and Latin Americans in this situation base their reply on social values, while the British and North Americans put truth values first. If this is understood, the situation becomes easier on both sides, although there will still be further variation depending on whether the invitation is by telephone, letter, or face to face, on whether it is a group invitation and how well the people know each other.

Fundamentally, relevant cultural presuppositions relate to how members of a culture view the world, how they think about human nature, time, space and society. Also crucial are the balance between individual and social identity, the role of language in social relations and getting things done, and how concepts of politeness and face are realized in interaction. Probably all of these is important in all cultures, hut the nature and emphasis of each may vary.

Some Caveats

When we consider cross-cultural communication it is natural to consider cross-cultural differences but we should first remember that cultures have much in common: we are all members of humanity, there has been extensive interaction between cultural groups for centuries and for most of the time most people get along very well with each other. Differences and problems should not obscure common elements.

Secondly, we need to remind ourselves that generalities about cultural groups do not always apply to individuals. There is always individual variation even in those cultures which emphasize collective thinking and action. Every culture has some balance between unity and diversity, between the individual and the group, between expected conventional responses and freedom of choice.

Thirdly, while general insights are very helpful we also need to bear in mind that different situations elicit different responses even in the same culture. Situational variation is common and much cultural activity is determined by context even in those cultures which stress principles which apparently transcend contextual variation.

Fourthly, in thinking about cross-cultural communication we should avoid a tendency to think about ‘us’ and ‘them’- For example, it is very useful to analyse some cultures (like British, French, German, American) as being individualistic, since they put emphasis on the individual, and other cultures (say Turkish, Chinese, Japanese, Indian) as being collective, since they tend to emphasize the group. But in using such binary categories we should remember that any culture probably has both individualistic and collective tendencies – it is a question of emphasis and relative balance.

Some Conclusions

We have looked at cross-cultural communication from a foreign language perspective. We have emphasized that it is not only cross-cultural language and behaviour which count but also participants interpretations of situations and people, since this interpretation often frames perceived meaning. Our own culture provides us with systems of interpreting language and interaction and in cross-cultural situations we need to be aware of these systems and endeavour to transcend them. Here, we have used a framework of different levels of communication to discuss how the more obvious levels of words, grammar and pronunciation often obscure the crucial role of body language, discourse patterns, sociolinguistic uses of language and cultural presuppositions. In face-to-face communication all these levels usually work simultaneously, in combination,

Speakers’ or hearers’ attitudes can be influenced by their interpretations, which in turn can be influenced by their own cultural systems. There can be a vicious circle here: cultural expectations can lead to different language use, which can lead to miscommunication. This in turn can lead to wrong assessments and stereotypes of participants from other cultures, which cart reinforce or mould cultural expectations, and so on. However, a major way to break such vicious circles is to be aware of possible difficulties, to have some knowledge of other cultures, and to try to develop intercultural skills.

To finish on a positive note, it is worth remembering that most of the time people from different cultures do get on with each other: as members of different cultures we share a common humanity. Good will and a friendly smile can overcome many barriers. Patience, trust and sensitivity are part of an international language of humanity which goes beyond words.

FURTHER READING ON THE TOPIC BY THE AUTHORS

• CORTAZZI, M. (1990) ‘Cultural and Educational Expectations in the Language Classroom’ in B. Harrison (ed.) Culture in the Language Classroom, pp.54-65, London: Macmillan.
• JIN, L. CORTAZZI, M. (1993) ‘Cultural Orientation and Academic Language Use’ in I). Graddol, L. Thompson, M.Byram (eds.) Language and Culture, pp.84-97, Clevedon: Multilingual Matters.
• CORTAZZI, M. JiN, L. (1994) ‘Narrative Analysfis: applying linguistics to cultural models of learning’ in D.Graddol, J. Swann (eds.) Evaluating Language, pp.75-90, Clevedon: Multilingual Matters.
• CORTAZZI. M.; JiN, L. (1994) ‘Ways with Words – Chinese students’ learning of English vocabulary’in D. Dai (ed.) Papers from the Second International Symposium on ELT, pp.1 5-28 Taipei: ETAROC.
• JIN, L; CORTAZZI, M. (1995) ‘A Cultural Synergy Model for Academic Language Use’ in P. Bruthiaux; T. Boswood; B. Du-Babcock(eds.) Explorations in English for Professional Communication,pp.41-56, Hong Kong: City University of Hong Kong.
• JiN, L. CORTAZZI, M. (1996) ‘Changes in Vocabulary Learning in China’ in H. Coleman & L. Cameron (eds.) Change and Language,Clevedon: Multilingual Matters,
• CORTAZZI, M JiN, L. (1996) ‘Cultures of Learning: Language Classrooms in China’ in H. Coleman (ed.) Society and the Language Classroom, Cambridge: CUP.
• JIN, L. CORTAZZI, M. (1996) ‘This way is very different from Chinese Ways’, EAP needs and Academic Culture in T. Dudley-Evans. M. Hewings (eds.) Evaluation and Course Design in EAP.London: Macmillan

According to statistics, there were as many as 123,759 overseas students in publicly financed British higher education institutions in the academic year 1977/78 (BCSOS, 1977-78, pp.6-7). Following the introduction of full-cost fees, the number fell to 88,037 in 1979 and then to 56,121 in 1984 (OST, 1987, p.17).

Since the mid-1980s the number of overseas students has been rising gradually (see table below). According to the latest available detailed statistics, the total number of overseas students in publicly financed British higher education stood at 92,100 in 1991, an increase of 9 percent on the figure for 1990 (DFE, 1993, Tables 1 and 6). It must be noted that these figures do not cover private sector colleges, whose overseas students are almost as numerous as those in publicly-financed institutions. According to a 1985 study, the full-time equivalent number of overseas students was 86,500. The fact that the number of first-year higher education student numbers in 1991 rose by 16 per cent indicates that the growth in total numbers may have continued over the following years (DFE, 1993, Tables 2 and 3).

The majority of undergraduate students are privately financed, mainly by their parents. The post-graduate students are mostly financed by public bodies, such as overseas governments, as well as by international institutions, such as the British Council. The number of British government- funded overseas students and trainees in the UK was 17,400 in 1985. As well as regular higher education, a considerable number come to Britain for language courses, mainly private, and for other courses of which details are not available.

The status of English as the international language, combined with other comparative advantages of Britain (relatively to other student recruiting countries), such as its being technologically advanced and its extensive counselling programmes for overseas students, have helped it to draw sizeable numbers of talented post- graduates as well as undergraduates into its educational system. It seems that Britain is increasingly moving towards the idea of importing the ‘best and brightest brains’ as an energy source for its educational and other institutions (Chandler, 1989, p.7). This policy resulted in the doubling between 1980 and 1986 of the number of awards under the Overseas Research Students Awards Program (ORSAS). The holders of an ORSAS award, which covers the difference between home cost’ and ‘full-cost’ fees for a particular course of study, constitute approximately 20 percent of the post-graduate research students in British universities (Chandler, 1989, ph). The administration of foreign student policy in Britain, within the broad framework set up by the government, rests with the higher educational institutions and with the British Council as the ‘marketing arm’ of British higher education and culture abroad (Chandler, 1989, p.7).

Growing emphasis has been placed on the short-term economic benefits foreign students confer as ‘tourists’ bringing in foreign currency. British sources estimated the income earned from foreign students through the fees they pay and through their own and their families’ expenditures for food, clothing, accommodation etc., at more than 1 billion a year – one-sixth of total tourist expenditures (OST, 1987, p.78). The profit comes from the difference between the full-cost fees that foreign students pay and the marginal costs they represent. The figure is likely to rise as a result of the increase in fee levels and the increase in the expenditure.

In British educational institutions, overseas students have come to be viewed as an important source of income, and as ‘cheap postgraduate labour’ (Williams et al, 1987, p.9). Apart from the educational and foreign policy benefits that overseas students provide (see below), it is interesting to note that overseas students, particularly in technical and scientific fields, constitute a double financial benefit for the British institutions: firstly, because of the high level of fees they pay (around 8- 10,000), and secondly, by providing cheap post-graduate labour for research carried out by the universities. Otherwise, universities would have to employ or recruit from abroad research assistants, at salaries of around 15-20,000 annually. It is increasingly spelt out that a university or a polytechnic is the poorer if it does not have at least 5 percent of its students from overseas (OST, 1987, p.5).

The Further and Higher Education Act of 1992 allowed polytechnics and colleges to attain university status on the condition that their educational provision met specified standards. Following this, some 40 polytechnics and colleges have been granted university status recently (DPE, 1993, point 34). In addition to other educational considerations, it is likely that one of the underlying reasons for Parliament’s allowing this to happen is to attract more overseas students to institutions which they had once regarded as inferior to universities.

In addition to direct benefits, the eventual cost-benefits of overseas students in trade and diplomatic relations have become increasingly important. This was frankly stated by Sir Anthony Parsons as follows: ‘If you are thoroughly familiar with someone else’s language and literature, if you know and love the country, the arts, the people, you will be instinctively disposed to buy goods from them rather than from a less well-known source, to support them actively when you consider them to be right, and to avoid criticizing them too fiercely when you regard them as wrong’ (Parsons, 1984). With the realization that Britain is no longer a major economic and military power, emphasis has been put on a reassessment of national assets and a greater awareness of the influence which British cultural patrimony can exercise (Malcolm, 1987, p.38). The policy debate, both nationally and in educational institutions, has focused primarily on the financial as well as on the educational benefits of the presence of overseas students.

Among the educational benefits which overseas students bring are (OST, 1990):

a) contributing to cultural enrichment;

b) testing general intellectual assumptions;

c) contributing knowledge and experience to specific courses;

d) improving pedagogical provision and contributing to staff development;

e) raising academic standards among home students;

f) helping to maintain course viability;

g) helping to maintain research capability.

In particular, there are courses in many institutions which would not be viable due to low demand from home students. Sometimes whole departments depend on overseas students for this reason. Thus, overseas students can allow an institution to offer a range of courses, a variety of academic provision, to the benefit of home students whose choice might otherwise be limited. The proportion of post-graduate overseas students in publicly-funded higher education institutions in Britain was 33 percent in 1981 and 36 percent in both 1990 and 1991 (DFB, 1993, Table 1).

Secondly, the strength of British universities in research often determines the success of their links with commerce and industry, which in turn largely depends on their international reputation in the field. The severe shortage of British research postgraduates poses a threat to many research projects, particularly in laboratory subjects. Consequently, overseas research students, who are usually of very high quality, are a valued asset, as they often maintain an institution’s research capability, its academic reputation and financial security.

The level of human resources will undoubtedly become an issue of increasing importance for the UK as well as other student recruiting countries, as highly trained scientific and technical personnel continue to affect worldwide economic and scientific growth. Human resource needs will have to be met across national boundaries. Developed countries, also, require increasing numbers of highly trained and specialized researchers and technologists, who can originate new products and services.

In the discussion of overseas students policy, various idealistic and pragmatic arguments have been put forward. These arguments for the import of foreign students are closely interconnected in a way that reflects the reality. Phrases like ‘cultural diversity’, ‘internationalism’, ‘cultural diplomacy’, technology transfer’, ‘cultural transfer’, ‘money-making’, etc., are some of the symbolic explanations of that reality. One observer has commented: ‘The relations between North and South are not primarily those of obligation or charity, but of mutuality of interest and of interdependence. Britain has her own interest in ensuring that development takes place in a peaceful and orderly manner. As a nation living by trade and the selling of services, and as the holder of considerable investment overseas, Britain… has a stake in political stability abroad and the fostering of international understanding’ (Williams, 1982, p.16).

The mutuality of need, rather than any other single factor, and rather than concepts of either obligation or opportunity, determines the continued importance of foreign students and of constructive and realistic foreign student policies (Chandler, 1989, pp. ix-x).

This ‘mutuality’ is a fairly one-sided benefit fully exploited by the receiving countries. Despite the fact that each individual student, more or less, pursues his or her aim and achieves the qualifications necessary, this success is, nevertheless, bound to remain on a micro level. The governments of the sending countries, in general, lack policies to channel and co-ordinate these endeavours into a single, sound, overall mechanism at a macro level in their own countries. The sending countries must, therefore, formulate appropriate policies and implement them. How that’s to be done is a separate question beyond the scope of the present discussion.

Together with massive campaigns to promote Western products, such story-lines and images, perpetuate the inferiorized stereotypes that used to be taught openly in the nineteenth century. Films especially can be seen as an arm of economic domination: ‘Because every film is a part of the economic system, it is also part of the ideological system… cinema and art are branches of ideology. None can escape; somewhere, like pieces in a jigsaw puzzle, all have their allotted place’ (Nicholls, 1976, vol.1, p.24).

Because the US got the edge over the Europeans in the mass-market film industry, Hollywood and what it stands for have often been accused, even by Europeans, of cultural imperialism. The English as well as the French often complain that the norms of popular culture in their countries have been ‘taken over’ by the Americans. But the fact is that the success of American styles has been largely due to their commercial skill and power relative to English and French products. In no sense can it be claimed that the American popular culture industry portrays the French or the English negatively. By contrast, it is true to say that Western cinema, particularly American cinema, portrays Orientals, especially Muslims, negatively as a matter of course. All easy, popular stories have goodies and baddies, but must the baddies so often be foreigners and need the foreigners be culturally foreign? In order to be popular, popular films reinforce popular stereotypes-it is a vicious circle, at least for its victims. For those who manage such images, popular cinema is a powerful instrument of cultural suppression and domination. As one writer maintains, the virtual monopoly Hollywood has enjoyed for the last quarter century has made it the single most powerful advocate and purveyor of a simplified, homogenized American culture (Collins, 1989).

Within this Hollywood style in particular, there has been a consistent Middle Eastern stereotype-Arab or Arab-Palestinian, or Turk or Iranian-with negative physical and moral characteristics- lustful, fanatical, irrational, cruel, scheming, unreliable, often cowardly, and always outwitted and defeated. The adventurer-hero, once in the Flash Gordon style of noble warrior on the side of the good (in simple contrast to arch-enemy Ming the Merciless, an Oriental tyrant), is now, typically, a morally imperfect figure, nevertheless worthy of the audience’s full sympathy. The ‘James Bond’ character of the sixties and seventies remains by far the most successful hero-formula. He was designed for British and American audiences to identify with: ‘he is worldly, has diverse but specialized expertise, and has a passion for excitement. He is self-reliant, proud, wedded to privacy, honest, candid, loyal, a man of honour…’ (Simon, 1989). This figure exemplifies, in a form appropriate to the genre of comic caricature, the virtues and ethos which are supposed to give the British and the Americans their directness and sense of humour, their get-up-and-go, their problem-solving success. The villain-figures altogether lack positive characteristics, even any energy or wit they have is of a mad, evil-genius type; their characters lack any exposition; they have no past, their only present is to pose the challenge to the hero. It follows that no audience, not even the non- British/American audience can possibly do otherwise than identify, through the momentum of the story, with the hero and the ethos he represents.

Among recent historical films which have to do with Muslim lands and people, the most popular have been Lawrence of Arabia, Death on the Nile, Midnight Express, and Robin Hood. Of these, only the first has any substantial claim to be a serious, well-made film. In it, Lawrence, a British army officer, stationed in Cairo during World War I, works to ally the Sharif of Makka with the British against the Turks. The Arabs are presented as bumbling, loud, unruly primitives with some barbarian dignity but, in the end, easily bribed, easily tricked. The Turks are utterly vile and disgusting with no saving qualities of any kind. Indeed, the Turkish Pasha in Egypt is, in addition to being, ugly, foul and aggressive, a sodomite- characteristics flatly contradicted by historical evidence (Kirkbride, 1956). The fact that Lawrence was a British spy with very British images about the desert, about Arabs, Turks and Muslims in general, never enters into the film or the consciousness of its audience-there is not the slightest hint that the events might be presented from another point of view and so tell quite a different story. For all the undeniable beauty of some scenes, this film well illustrates the general point made by Raymond Williams that, in spite of their being artistic, works of art still serve an ideological function, that is, serve as propaganda (Williams, 1982). Embedded in Lawrence of Arabia there are all the usual distortions, political and cultural, which less artistic films present also, but crudely.

Midnight Express has been widely and continuously shown since its production in 1978. Though shot mostly in a nineteenth-century British barracks in Malta, the film is set in Istanbul which comes over as a most depressing place – a shock surely for anyone who has actually visited it. David Putnam, the director, freely admits that the film is based on a ‘dishonest book’ (Shipman, 1984, vol.2, p.1103). It wholly misrepresents what really happened to Billy Hase who was sentenced in Turkey for drug smuggling: the story implies that he was innocent; it makes much of his escape, though he was released under an amnesty agreement’ (ibid.). The quality of the director’s attention to the Islamic setting can be judged from the scene in which hairy- eared Hamidou (the actor is in fact an American) is whipping Jimmy with a leather belt while some other Turks are praying to Allah – Jimmy’s yells of pain provide the ‘music’ to the praying chorus (Kael, 1980, p.498).

Much the same kind of attention (and the same intention) is evident in the opening scene of Robin Hood: in a gloomy atmosphere the call to prayer rises from a minaret in Jerusalem, then an abrupt ‘cut’ to a filthy prison where an executioner is chopping off the hand of a prisoner – an illustration for the audience of Islamic justice. The point of these and similar devices of narrative and plot of setting, colour, tone and music – many examples could be given – is not only to present an image of Islam and Muslims that is as negative and humiliating as possible. It is also intended to contrast that negative with the positive virtues of the Western characters portrayed within the same story: the audience are required (and expected) to conclude that ‘the Americans, and the Englishmen and the Swedes, are civilized and sensitive…’ (Kael, 1980, p.498).

References

• COLLINS, J. (1959) Uncommon cultures: Popular Culture and Post Modernism, Routledge, London.
• KAEL, P. (1980) When the lights Go Down, Holt, Rinehart & Wilson, New York.
• KIRKBRIDE, Sir As. (1956) A Crackle of Thorns: Experiences in the Middle East, John Murray, London.
• NICHOLLS, B. (1976) (ed.) Movies and Methods, University of California Press.
• SHIPMAN, D. (1984) The Story of Cinema, Hodder & Stoughton, London..
• SIMON, S.R. (1989) The Middle East in Crime Fiction, Lilian Barber Press, New York.
• WILLIAMS, R. (1982) The Sociology of Culture, Fontana, London.

There is a natural healing power in honey of great benefit to man. This is affirmed in verses 68-9 of sura al-Nahl in the Qur’an: And your Lord inspired the bee: ‘Build your homes in the mountans and in the trees and in the (hives) made by mankihd’ Then (He taught the bee) to feed on every kind of fruit (of the earth) and to follow the ways of your Lord made smooth. There comes from inside their bellies a drink of diverse colours in which is healing for mankind. Surely in this is a sign for those people who reflect (al-Nahl, 16.68-9)

It is extraordinary that the curative properties of honey are documented in the world’s oldest medical literature. The Sumerians, and Egyptian physicians around 2000 BC, used honey to treat internal and external wounds, ulcers, diseases of the eyes, lungs, skin and, in particular, diseases of the stomach and intestines. The Chinese, the Indians, the Greeks and the Romans also recorded similar practices in their traditions. Hippocrates, the so-called ‘father’ of modern medicine (460-377 BC) also used honey to treat a variety of diseases. Honey was also highly regarded as a tonic to preserve youth and prolong healthy life–one Chinese Emperor used it as a drug to obtain immortality. The great Muslim physician, Ibn Sina (980-1037) wrote dozens of prescriptions containing honey in his world-famous medical textbook ‘The Canon of Medicine’. He is reported to have included among the benefits of honey that it makes you feel happy; that it refreshes you; that it assists digestion and gets rid of wind; that it helps when you have a cold; that it increases appetite; that it improves and sharpens memory; that it eases the tongue (the faculty of speech); and that it preserves youthfulness.

THE ANTIBACTERIAL ‘SYSTEM’ IN HONEY

In 1937 H. Dold et al. reported that honey has antibacterial activity and called the active agent an ‘inhibine’. Ever since, a number of scientist have tried in vain to discover the identity of this ‘inhibine’. In 1963 J.W. White et al. suggested that the ‘inbibine’ is the hydrogen peroxide produced by the honey’s glucose-oxidase system. However, results obtained by the author and by other scientists such as O.B.O’L. James et al. in 1972 and S.S. Radwan et al. in 1984 do not agree with the attribution of the ‘inhibine’ to the hydrogen peroxide produced. This author’s researches in the laboratory have shown that the antibacterial activity of honey is owed not to a single factor but to a complex ‘system’ of factors, of which there are at list three:

1- The high sugar concentration (76 g/1OO ml)

2- The acidity (pH=3.6-4.2)

3- The organic antibacterial compounds present in honey

It was observed that undiluted honey clearly exhibits antibacterial activity. The bacterial cells dry out because of the osmotic effect of the high sugar content in the solution and bacterial growth is retarded in the acidic environment which honey provides. In diluted form neither the sugar in the honey nor the acidity in it has an inhibitive effect on bacteria. Is it then the organic compounds which are responsible for inhibiting bacterial growth? It was also observed that most of the common pathogenic bacteria which infect human beings are killed in honey. Honey therefore acts as a bactericide. The researches established that the ‘inhibine’ is not a single agent but a subtle combination of intricately related factors quite unique in their antibacterial action. Further research is necessary, and is currently in progress, to identify the chemical nature of the organic antibacterial factors in honey.

THE BIOCHEMICAL COMPOSITION OF HONEY

The biochemical composition of honey is relevant to its curative properties. Beside the existence of the antibacterial ‘system’, honey is known to contain not less than 181 different compounds. These can be classified as follows:

– Simple and complex sugars

– Organic acids

– Minerals and trace elements (resembling blood composition)

– Vitamins (both water and fat soluble)

– Amino-acids (both essentials and non-essentials)

– Proteins (mainly enzymes)

– Lipids (simple, complex and wax)

– Plant flavours and colouring materials

– Hydrocarbons

– Hormones

– Pollens

– Microorganisms (yeast)

The list above shows just how complex the composition of honey is. It is then less of a wonder that honey contains some combination of elements which have proven so effective in the treatment of wounds and ulcers. Honey not only keeps ruptured cells sterile but also provides all the necessary micronutrients which are the building materials need to assist the cells’ full recovery. Although these micronutrients are present in only small quantities, they are available in the most easily assimilated, soluble forms. In addition, the high energy required for the healing processes to occur is provided by the simple sugars, fructose and glucose, in honey.

CLINICAL USE OF HONEY

To date the scientific and clinical evidences for the miracle of honey are numerous. Doctors and surgeons have used honey in their medical practice and even openly recommended its use. Among recent examples the use of honey for:

Treatment of serious gunshot wounds by Prof. S.A. Simirnov in 1948;

Treatment of breakdown surgical wounds by Dr. D. Cavanagh et al. in 1970;

Treatment of ulcers, surface wounds, cuts and abrasions by Dr. R. Blomfield in 1973;

Treatment of bacterial gastro enteritis (diarrhea) by Dr. I.E. Haffejee and Prof. A. Moosa in 1985;

Treatment of a wide range of serious long-standing wounds and ulcers by Dr. S.E.E. Efem in 1988;

Treatment of infected wounds in vulvectomy, infected perineum, infected abdominal wall wounds and breakdown of abdominal wall scar by Dr. R.J.F. Mclnerney in 1990.

In each of these cases honey was praised for its effectiveness as compared to ‘modern-conventional’ treatment. Honey was observed to kill bacteria at the site of wounds, to debride (clean up) wounds, rapidly replacing sloughs (dead cells) and so enabling granulation (scar) tissues to form. Honey also permitted epithelialization (i.e. growth of healthy cells) and the absorption of oedema (swellings) from around the ulcer margins. Honey reduced further infection, the risk of offensively smelly (seriously infected) wounds and so reduced need for skin graft treatments.

CONCLUSION

The verses of the Our’an which affirm the healing properties of honey affirm for us the mercy of Allah, Creator and Sustainer of the Worlds. It is also by this mercy that we study and research what He has created and made intelligible to us, including this miracle of honey. It is easy then to conclude our work, as Muslim scholars and scientists always used to begin their work, by praising Allah, and by saluting the Prophet Muhammad, upon him be peace, who left us this advice: Whoever licks honey three mornings in a month is saved from serious illnesses. 

REFERENCES

• IOYRICH, N. (1977) Bees and People, Mir Publishers. Moscow.
• CRANE, E. (1978) Honey: A Comprehensive Review Heinemann, London.
• WHITE. J.W., Mary. J.R.. Subers. H. and Schepartz, A. I. (1963) ‘The identification of inhibine, the antibacterial factor in honey as hydrogen peroxide and it s origin in a honey glucose-oxidase system’, Biochem. et Biophys. acta, 73. pp.57-70.
• JAMES. O.B. O’L, Segree. W and Ventura. A.K. (1972) ‘Some antibacterial properties of Jamaican honey’ West Indies Medical Journal, 21(7), pp.7-17.
• RADWAN. S.S.. El-Essawy, A. A. and Sarhan, M.M. (1984) ‘Experimental evidence for the occurrence in honey of specific substances active against micro-organisms’ Zbl. Mikrobiol.. 139. pp.249-55.
• KAMARUDDIN. M.Y., Sivanaesan,L and Hamid, A.H.A. (1989) ‘The existence of antibacterial factors in Malaysian Apis cerana honey’, Proceedings of the 14th. Malaysian Biochemical Society Conference pp.l8l-5
• JAVANAGH. D., Beazler, C. and Ostapowicz, F. (1970) ‘Radical operation for carcinoma of the vulva: a new approach for wound healing’ Journal of Obstetrics and Gynaecology of the British Commonwealth, 77, pp 1037-40.
• BLOMFIELD, R. (1973) ‘Honey for decubitus ulcers’ Journal of American Medical Association 224, p-905.
• HAFFEJII, I.E. and Moosa, A. (1985) ‘Honey in a treatment infantile gastroenferitis’ British Medical Journal, 290, pp.1866-7.
• EFEM. S.E. (1988) ‘Clinical observations on the wound healing properties of honey’ British Journal of Surgery, 75, pp.679-81.
• MACINERNEY. R.C.F. (1990) ‘Honey: a remedy rediscovered’, Journal of the Royal Society of Medicine, 83, p.127.
• KAMARUDDIN, M.Y (1987-91) ‘Biochemical and Pharmacological study on Malaysian Apis cerena honey’, Beekeeping: The Malaysian Beekeeping Research and Development Team – IDRC. 1987-91 Report.