♘امیرحسین♞
♘ مدیریت انجمن اسب ایران ♞
The Asil of Iran (known in the west as the Arab) is labelled by the name of the region from which it comes, greatly to avoid confusion with other breeds with a somewhat Arab type, which has already been done by two different persons writing on the Arab horse. Major General Tweedie introduced the Kurdish horse bred in the northwest of Iran as the example of a Persian Arab, and later an American writer confused the breed we know by the name of ‘Dareshuri’ with our Arabs. We ourselves recognize as pure Asil only those coming from the breeders of Khuzestan, having strain names and defined as to which tribe and family of known owners of that strain they come from. No horse can simply be called an Asil.
I have read many books and articles about the Asil (Arab) horse. However, except for two books - one by Mohammad Ali Pasha of Egypt, in which he says the reason he is writing on the Asil is because he is tired of reading books written on this subject by westerners, according to him often incorrect; and the second a translation in French of a book written by the Arab writer, Ibn Hodeil, in the fourteenth century - all the rest have not only been by outsiders, they have been by people who had a personal interest and had purchased from one source or another. Certainly in such cases they were biased in favor of what they had obtained. In most cases all the tradition and history that went into the producing of this breed of horse which has become world famous is ignored.
It is difficult to explain to those with a cursory acquaintance with the original Asil breeder of the relationship and reasons of how they relate to their horses. I have not seen this understanding except in the book "Nineveh and Babylon" written by Layard, an English traveller, adventurer and excavator of the Assyrian capitol of Nineveh. He is not on an equine search, but living and working with Arabs he devotes a few pages of his book to the horse. He comments on the fact that Abbas Pasha (Viceroy of Egypt and great collector of Asils), at a time when the highest price given for horses bought by dealers for foreigners was one hundred and fifty English pounds, was unable to obtain a particular mare although he offered the owner one thousand two hundred pounds, because "Without his mare, money was of no value to him." He then makes a comment of great interest, particularly as it indirectly concerns our Asil in Khuzestan, when he says: "From the Khamseh have sprung a number of families no less noble, perhaps, than the original five; but the Shammar receive their stallions with suspicion or reject them altogether. Among the best known are the Wathna Khersan, so called from the mares being said to be worth their weight in gold. Noble horses of this blood are to be found amongst the Arabs inhabiting the east of the Euphrates (the Bani Lam, Al Khamees, and Al Kathir)."
This brings me to the Asil of Khuzestan, where the strain system of breeding is still maintained today. One of the equine families highly esteemed by all is still the Wadnan Khersan, female referred to as Wadne Khersani, mentioned by Layard. Having looked through several of the better known western stud-books, I have never seen a pedigree whose foundation claimed to be of this line. Only Brown has the Wadnan Khersan as a sub-strain of the Koheilan, then again separate by itself, having gained the fame to be considered an entity on its own. The information given by Layard clears up this puzzle.
Of the tribes mentioned by Layard in the first quotation, branches of the Al Khamees, Al Kathir and the Bani Lam are existent today in Khuzestan. The Bani Lam and the Al Kathir are known for the foundation of certain strains, the former for the Saglawi Djadrani, and Nesman (branch of the Koheilan), the latter for the Hamdani Semri, Saglawi Djadran, Wadne and a Wadne branch known as the Zaghieh. The Kaab, under whose name General Tweedie recognizes the Arab of Iran, are a large tribe divided into sub-tribes. Those best known for certain strains are the Jassemi for the Hetli (a Koheilan derivative) and the Sofferieh (a Saglawi sub-strain); the Mojadami known for a branch of the Hamdani, the Sobeili and Beaiyreh (Wadne Koheili). There are the Bani Khalid famous for Soffeirieh and Djelfe (Julfa to Layard); the Seyyids of Hosseini with the Maanghieh (Maneghi); the Seyyids of Tefagh with the Koheilan Adjuz, the Nesman and the Djelfe; and the Ziareh are best known for their Saglawis. However, the strain whose stallion is accepted by everybody as
faal (worthy for breeding ) is the Wadnan Khersan of the Mir tribe, who also own the best considered Obayan Sharak. Up to this day no mare of this line has never been sold, nor have any even been exchanged or given as gifts to other tribes, a custom normal among most Arabs.
Early in the history of the exodus of the Asil from its homeland the strain system was ignored. The regulations of breeding allow the breeding of a mare of the Khamseh to stallions of another Khamseh strain, but the foal will be known by its dam’s strain. If it is a filly it may again be bred to a third strain, and so on, however, the descendants will always be known by her dam strain. This system of following of the dam strain, whatever the sire, was ridiculed and discarded by many in the west. Good reason, for if anyone wished to follow it they would have had to obtain large numbers to make it possible. The above was given as an example, though in fact among those breeders of name and their tribes, I doubt if this often happened. The stallions were kept by the Sheikh for use by his tribe. Normally, as described above, a tribe or known family did not have more than two or three strains, usually breeding back to the original strain every second, or at most third generation. In truth, in my experience of fifty years in Khuzestan, the greater danger is in-breeding. It would cause the displeasure of the sheikh if members of his clan took their mares to be bred by someone else’s stallion. In any case, today with the advanced studies of genetics, it has been found that many traits are carried only through the female line. It would appear the Arab somehow was using the correct method.
Aside from the Arab tribes, members of two of their northern neighbours, two big migratory tribes the Lurs and the Bakhtiari, obtained Asil horses and the traditions that went with them. It was through the Bakhtiari that I came to know and admire the Asil horses of Khuzestan.
Although I had ridden since I was a child, my association with the Asil started when I married Majid Bakhtiar. He was a member of the chiefs of the Bakhtiari, a tribe inhabiting the region west and south-west of the province of Isfahan, with winter quarters in the northern boundaries of Khuzestan. He owned properties in this province, also a stable of pure-bred Asil horses for which the region was famous, both inherited from his father. The horses that had been obtained by his family, who were at one time powerful, were mostly as presents from sheikhs with whom they had alliances. Others were taken in battle, such as two Wadne Khersani mares from the Mir tribe. Gradually, I learnt the rules and regulations that were considered necessary for the breeding of Asils, taught by him and by those with knowledge of the old traditions.
At the time of my marriage I owned two what I considered to be superior horses, non Arabians of partly foreign breeding which I had obtained at exorbitant prices after long searches to find them. I was very proud of them and had every intention of taking them with me if we were to live in the south. Majid objected, saying he had a whole stable full of horses that I could choose from. We finally agreed that no decision would be taken until such time that I had seen his Asils. When I eventually did, I made the most uncomplimentary comment regarding this breed. Even now I bite my tongue when I recollect that day and the expression on Majid’s face. What I said was: " Majid, how can you call these horses! They are goats !"
Eventually, I insisted on taking down one of my "superior" horses. In the meantime Majid had given me a flashy chestnut colt of the Wadnan Khersan strain, highly esteemed by his father and himself. He also bought a black Obayan Sharak stallion from a neighbouring Arab sheikh, which he gave to me. Within a year I had given away my "superior" horse. This is the way it came about.
We had commenced a very big mechanized farm, mainly at that time dry farming, wheat and barley, on land rented from the government, the whole over eight thousand hectares. I managed the internal affairs of this activity, usually attending to the land on horseback. One lovely spring evening, riding the black stallion, I was cantering quietly, in a pace taught by Arab trainers, to one of our field camps. Suddenly the horse bolted. I was not too worried about stopping him, but was puzzled by his action. I thought possibly dogs or hyenas were silently chasing us. I looked behind me. Nothing. I turned back, and Zip, Zip, Zip, one, two, three gazelle went flashing across my path! This horse was a hunter!
Gazelle hunting on horseback had become almost obsolete. After this incident, having heard many fireside tall tales of feats performed in the past by this horse or that man, I so ridiculed the present inability to compete as before, that Majid and several other of the Bakhtiari took it up with a vengeance. The method used in Khuzestan needed a great deal of patience, and good judgement of speed and distance. The chances of the gazelle escaping were about 75%. The hunters, once they spotted gazelle, would start riding at walk in a large circle around them, usually not more than two hunters together, slowly decreasing the circle. The gazelle would become agitated, jog off a short distance, stop, change direction, start off again, and eventually go into a canter. All this while the stalker must keep calm, keeping his pace to no more than a fast walk. Not yet. Not until the gazelle makes up his mind as to the direction of his escape and goes into what the Bakhtiari call "a smooth run", in other words flat out. Now nothing will persuade him to change his direction.
This is when the hunter "unleashes" his horse at a converging course diagonal to that of the gazelle. In this first burst of speed the gazelle can do something like 90 kph, thus the need for proper calculation! The horse is galloping full out. He has his head, for the reins are gathered loosely in the left hand which is at the same time supporting the barrel of the gun. Once this sport was done with bow and arrow, thus both hands were completely occupied! The terrain is normally flat, but this does not exclude rocks, rat & fox holes, dry flood beds, etc. It is the horse who must make the decisions whilst going at full speed. The distance he must run depends on the angle and speed of horse and gazelle. Choosing the angle and manoeuvers when nearing the gazelle is where an expert hunter is separated from the stupid or amateur. The gazelle should pass within convenient shooting distance in front of him. Too slow, the gazelle is gone. Too fast, they will pass behind him. He will then not only have to be a good shot, he will also have to be a good acrobat!
In this world of gazelle chasing, hunting wild boar in muddy marshland and dense brush, using horses as transport, accompanying tribes on torturous mountain tracks, the horses I had dismissed as "goats" could not be compared with any other horse. On our first migrations some of the horses were urged up riderless over the boulders strewn on the steep mountain climbs. Likewise they needed help taking the sharp turns down the slippery descents, where the rocky surface shone like glass from centuries of use. Two years later, these same horses clambered up and down like mountain goats, outdoing the local tribal horses and sometimes even the mules! They were incredible! My Asil ‘disease’ became confirmed at this point and was to remain with me thereafter, playing a major role in my future life.
During the years of my marriage to Majid Bakhtiar, I was in charge of the management and breeding of his stock. It was a great blow to the Asil of the province when in the forties it was struck by an epidemic of African Horse Plague. Many strains were wiped out, and others decimated. For some reason those horses which survived were mostly the old or the very young. Out of eighty four horses of our stables only sixteen remained, notwithstanding that the first vaccinations started there. In most areas it was far worse. Many people became discouraged, having lost many of their best horses. We also felt the same way. It took a few years for the shock to wear off and the interest in breeding to take root again. However, since for the tribes of Khuzestan the owning of Asil mares was deeply woven with tradition, whoever had even one mare remaining held onto her. Those who had lost everything arranged to obtain at the least half of a pure mare from a friendly tribe. Most people kept the one mare, breeding her only when she started to age, and as soon as she produced a filly they would stop breeding. The filly was then kept with the same conditions. Male foals were no longer killed but were given away to non Arabs, or if they were of superior quality would be given as presents to officials with an interest in horses.
Majid’s stables had increased to about forty head, when he was killed in a plane accident. His stock was then donated to the Royal Horse Society of the time. Not long afterwards they were accepted by WAHO, although those of Khuzestan, the foundation of all the Asil of Iran, were not immediately accepted until we could provide proof of control of breeding. It was during this period that I found friends among Arab horse breeders elsewhere in the world, among them Gustl Eutermoser and Ulrika Marcik who I met in Sweden. They asked if they could come to visit me. I explained that I lived in an isolated area, the road somewhat undefined and my home hard to find. However, I gave them a primitive map and thought little more about it.
Quite late one rainy night sometime in the early spring of Khuzestan, the rainiest season of all, I heard the horn of a car at the gate. A Range Rover entered the courtyard. I was surprised, for the only person I knew with such a car would not have chosen such a wet night. Not only was the road bad, but there was a river to cross which, though not wide, could have dangerous flash floods. My surprise was all the greater when out of the car descended Gustl and Ulrika, together with a lady from Australia and a man from Germany. For two days we had hurried, dripping visits to the stables, not very pleasant in the incessant rain. Bored, they asked me if there was a sheikh we could visit, who was reputed for his traditional knowledge of the Asil? Sheikh Hajat of the Al Kathir, said to be one of the most authoritative men on the dispersal and fame of the strains of Khuzestan, lived not more than forty kilometers away. It was at the risk of becoming stuck in the mud that we decided to attempt to go to him. We had a fantastic drive which was more like sailing on a sea of mud than driving, but we eventually got there, cold and very wet.
Sheikh Hajat, whom I knew well, was very glad to see us. He had been a good friend of Majid’s and was one of my instructors in the field of the Asil of Khuzestan. He had an enormous brazier of red-hot charcoal set before us, and once we were warmed by tea and coffee, the conversation turned to my guests and the reason for their presence. They wanted his opinion as to the qualifications of a good Asil horse. He said: "First ask them which horse they are talking about. The horse of the "khiaban" (avenue, meaning a horse for showing off, festivities etc.) or a horse of the "biaban"? (the desert or the wilderness, meaning a horse for fighting, long distances, speed for hunting etc.) The reply was "the horse of the biaban".
He then replied: "First, before looking at the horse’s body, you must ensure that it has the five specifications of character: Courage. Intelligence. Stamina. Spirit. Above all "Nejabat" (a difficult word to translate, a mixture of nobleness, gentleness and the ethics of an aristocrat). If it lacks these virtues, no matter how pleasing he is to the eye, he is a worthless horse, so do not waste your time. If he has them then run your eyes over his conformation. The forehead should be wide, the eyes large and alive, the ears well placed and alert, the neck connection slender and refined, the shoulder sloping, the girth deep, the cannon short, the distance between the knees to come straight down to the ground" and so on. In short, many of his stipulations were similar to the opinions held by many writers, except when it came to the head, croup and tail carriage. He did not approve of the dish. He had seen it in exaggerated form on a stallion sent as a present from the States and considered it a deformity. The completely flat croup, he said, was pleasing to the eye, but not natural. In different strains and for different purposes, different types of croups were desirable. According to him in the Hamdani, the Nesman and sometimes the Saglawi flatter croups were to be expected, but such a croup on the Koheilans would be a sign of too much mixture. The horse would probably not have the ability expected of its strain. The tail he said, should never be carried like a cane, rather like a flag. The cane-like carriage came from a weak back and the flag-like carriage from a strong and straight spinal column. With such a horse, in battle, if another horse fell, the rider could be taken up behind.
My guests then wanted to know what diverse expectations there were from the different strains. In short he answered: From the Hamdani courage, from the Obayan Sharak a lightness and mobility causing it not to tire quickly and useful for fast manoeuver, from the Koheilans (many strains) stamina, as well as to outrun other strains over the longer stretches such as the chasing of gazelle. The Saglawi and the Nesman he classified more as horses for show. The Djelfe, he admitted, was a tough horse, though he ridiculed its wide spaced ears. For the Hadban and Maanghieh, who both belong to two Seyyid families (descendants of the Prophet) he professed to have little information, they being far from him and not numerous.
It must also be taken into consideration that the tribe or family owning a strain or strains consider them superior to the rest. Sheikh Hajat, along with two others, were almost exceptions, but never altogether. Thus, information received from one tribe or region may be refuted by another. Therefore, whatever group you happen to contact, their strain will undoubtedly be the best. This has always been so. As Prince Mohammad Ali in his book "Breeding of Pure Bred Arab Horses" comments: "Some Europeans make a big distinction between a Syrian, or desert and Najd horse; etc. All these horses are from the same origin ..... I am often amused to read about horse lovers who have had to deal with Arab horses; they seem to be quite convinced that the best horses are from this or that tribe. But I say this: There are good horses in all the tribes; Arabs are neighbours and warriors, they fight often between themselves and the conqueror takes all the best stock from the other. In this way good horses are taken from one tribe to another, and it is, therefore, more accurate to say that the strongest tribe gets the best."
In 1978 circumstances which included a six year war disrupted the continuance of any attempts to make the Asil of Khuzestan known outside. The war, like the African horse plague, again caused the loss of many horses, including some of the sub-strains. However, although during the ten years 1978 to 1988 there was no communication with other countries concerning the Asil horse, it appeared to some of us that if we did not start activities that would encourage the breeders, the Khuzestan Asil was in danger of becoming extinct. Mares and stallions known to be pure, plus those suspected to be but having lost their original owners and needing detailed re-checking, were branded for recognition. Gradually races, festivals, small endurance rides, and eventually conformation shows were organized. As each year passed, there was more activity and in consequence a reawakening of the Khuzestani interest in breeding.
In the meantime as of 1988 we were again in contact with the World Arabian Horse Organization. First there was work to be done to fill in the gap of ten years for our accepted horses and a new stud-book to be printed. Once this was cleared up, a great deal of work commenced on the Asils of Khuzestan, in order to provide proof of control of breeding. Eventually, pedigrees had to be given for each foundation animal, all connecting to pedigrees first compiled for WAHO twenty five years earlier. Finally, in June 1999 permission was given to prepare the official stud book for print. Three hundred and ninety mares and stallions are in the foundation, which with their progeny are now acceptable.
In this stud book will be found the Hamdani, Saglawi, Obayan, Wadnan Khersan, Hadban, and Koheilan, all with several sub-strains. Also Showeiman, Sobeili, Maanghieh, Djelfan, and a few of lesser known strains. Hopefully, with the co-operation of the breeders, help from the Equine Federation of Iran and the Asil Association, it will be possible to assist and strengthen the strain breeding in accordance with its age-old traditions and regulations, and in this way preserve the various abilities of the different strains, not just a prototype of a "horse of the Khiaban".
I have read many books and articles about the Asil (Arab) horse. However, except for two books - one by Mohammad Ali Pasha of Egypt, in which he says the reason he is writing on the Asil is because he is tired of reading books written on this subject by westerners, according to him often incorrect; and the second a translation in French of a book written by the Arab writer, Ibn Hodeil, in the fourteenth century - all the rest have not only been by outsiders, they have been by people who had a personal interest and had purchased from one source or another. Certainly in such cases they were biased in favor of what they had obtained. In most cases all the tradition and history that went into the producing of this breed of horse which has become world famous is ignored.
It is difficult to explain to those with a cursory acquaintance with the original Asil breeder of the relationship and reasons of how they relate to their horses. I have not seen this understanding except in the book "Nineveh and Babylon" written by Layard, an English traveller, adventurer and excavator of the Assyrian capitol of Nineveh. He is not on an equine search, but living and working with Arabs he devotes a few pages of his book to the horse. He comments on the fact that Abbas Pasha (Viceroy of Egypt and great collector of Asils), at a time when the highest price given for horses bought by dealers for foreigners was one hundred and fifty English pounds, was unable to obtain a particular mare although he offered the owner one thousand two hundred pounds, because "Without his mare, money was of no value to him." He then makes a comment of great interest, particularly as it indirectly concerns our Asil in Khuzestan, when he says: "From the Khamseh have sprung a number of families no less noble, perhaps, than the original five; but the Shammar receive their stallions with suspicion or reject them altogether. Among the best known are the Wathna Khersan, so called from the mares being said to be worth their weight in gold. Noble horses of this blood are to be found amongst the Arabs inhabiting the east of the Euphrates (the Bani Lam, Al Khamees, and Al Kathir)."
This brings me to the Asil of Khuzestan, where the strain system of breeding is still maintained today. One of the equine families highly esteemed by all is still the Wadnan Khersan, female referred to as Wadne Khersani, mentioned by Layard. Having looked through several of the better known western stud-books, I have never seen a pedigree whose foundation claimed to be of this line. Only Brown has the Wadnan Khersan as a sub-strain of the Koheilan, then again separate by itself, having gained the fame to be considered an entity on its own. The information given by Layard clears up this puzzle.
Of the tribes mentioned by Layard in the first quotation, branches of the Al Khamees, Al Kathir and the Bani Lam are existent today in Khuzestan. The Bani Lam and the Al Kathir are known for the foundation of certain strains, the former for the Saglawi Djadrani, and Nesman (branch of the Koheilan), the latter for the Hamdani Semri, Saglawi Djadran, Wadne and a Wadne branch known as the Zaghieh. The Kaab, under whose name General Tweedie recognizes the Arab of Iran, are a large tribe divided into sub-tribes. Those best known for certain strains are the Jassemi for the Hetli (a Koheilan derivative) and the Sofferieh (a Saglawi sub-strain); the Mojadami known for a branch of the Hamdani, the Sobeili and Beaiyreh (Wadne Koheili). There are the Bani Khalid famous for Soffeirieh and Djelfe (Julfa to Layard); the Seyyids of Hosseini with the Maanghieh (Maneghi); the Seyyids of Tefagh with the Koheilan Adjuz, the Nesman and the Djelfe; and the Ziareh are best known for their Saglawis. However, the strain whose stallion is accepted by everybody as
faal (worthy for breeding ) is the Wadnan Khersan of the Mir tribe, who also own the best considered Obayan Sharak. Up to this day no mare of this line has never been sold, nor have any even been exchanged or given as gifts to other tribes, a custom normal among most Arabs.
Early in the history of the exodus of the Asil from its homeland the strain system was ignored. The regulations of breeding allow the breeding of a mare of the Khamseh to stallions of another Khamseh strain, but the foal will be known by its dam’s strain. If it is a filly it may again be bred to a third strain, and so on, however, the descendants will always be known by her dam strain. This system of following of the dam strain, whatever the sire, was ridiculed and discarded by many in the west. Good reason, for if anyone wished to follow it they would have had to obtain large numbers to make it possible. The above was given as an example, though in fact among those breeders of name and their tribes, I doubt if this often happened. The stallions were kept by the Sheikh for use by his tribe. Normally, as described above, a tribe or known family did not have more than two or three strains, usually breeding back to the original strain every second, or at most third generation. In truth, in my experience of fifty years in Khuzestan, the greater danger is in-breeding. It would cause the displeasure of the sheikh if members of his clan took their mares to be bred by someone else’s stallion. In any case, today with the advanced studies of genetics, it has been found that many traits are carried only through the female line. It would appear the Arab somehow was using the correct method.
Aside from the Arab tribes, members of two of their northern neighbours, two big migratory tribes the Lurs and the Bakhtiari, obtained Asil horses and the traditions that went with them. It was through the Bakhtiari that I came to know and admire the Asil horses of Khuzestan.
Although I had ridden since I was a child, my association with the Asil started when I married Majid Bakhtiar. He was a member of the chiefs of the Bakhtiari, a tribe inhabiting the region west and south-west of the province of Isfahan, with winter quarters in the northern boundaries of Khuzestan. He owned properties in this province, also a stable of pure-bred Asil horses for which the region was famous, both inherited from his father. The horses that had been obtained by his family, who were at one time powerful, were mostly as presents from sheikhs with whom they had alliances. Others were taken in battle, such as two Wadne Khersani mares from the Mir tribe. Gradually, I learnt the rules and regulations that were considered necessary for the breeding of Asils, taught by him and by those with knowledge of the old traditions.
At the time of my marriage I owned two what I considered to be superior horses, non Arabians of partly foreign breeding which I had obtained at exorbitant prices after long searches to find them. I was very proud of them and had every intention of taking them with me if we were to live in the south. Majid objected, saying he had a whole stable full of horses that I could choose from. We finally agreed that no decision would be taken until such time that I had seen his Asils. When I eventually did, I made the most uncomplimentary comment regarding this breed. Even now I bite my tongue when I recollect that day and the expression on Majid’s face. What I said was: " Majid, how can you call these horses! They are goats !"
Eventually, I insisted on taking down one of my "superior" horses. In the meantime Majid had given me a flashy chestnut colt of the Wadnan Khersan strain, highly esteemed by his father and himself. He also bought a black Obayan Sharak stallion from a neighbouring Arab sheikh, which he gave to me. Within a year I had given away my "superior" horse. This is the way it came about.
We had commenced a very big mechanized farm, mainly at that time dry farming, wheat and barley, on land rented from the government, the whole over eight thousand hectares. I managed the internal affairs of this activity, usually attending to the land on horseback. One lovely spring evening, riding the black stallion, I was cantering quietly, in a pace taught by Arab trainers, to one of our field camps. Suddenly the horse bolted. I was not too worried about stopping him, but was puzzled by his action. I thought possibly dogs or hyenas were silently chasing us. I looked behind me. Nothing. I turned back, and Zip, Zip, Zip, one, two, three gazelle went flashing across my path! This horse was a hunter!
Gazelle hunting on horseback had become almost obsolete. After this incident, having heard many fireside tall tales of feats performed in the past by this horse or that man, I so ridiculed the present inability to compete as before, that Majid and several other of the Bakhtiari took it up with a vengeance. The method used in Khuzestan needed a great deal of patience, and good judgement of speed and distance. The chances of the gazelle escaping were about 75%. The hunters, once they spotted gazelle, would start riding at walk in a large circle around them, usually not more than two hunters together, slowly decreasing the circle. The gazelle would become agitated, jog off a short distance, stop, change direction, start off again, and eventually go into a canter. All this while the stalker must keep calm, keeping his pace to no more than a fast walk. Not yet. Not until the gazelle makes up his mind as to the direction of his escape and goes into what the Bakhtiari call "a smooth run", in other words flat out. Now nothing will persuade him to change his direction.
This is when the hunter "unleashes" his horse at a converging course diagonal to that of the gazelle. In this first burst of speed the gazelle can do something like 90 kph, thus the need for proper calculation! The horse is galloping full out. He has his head, for the reins are gathered loosely in the left hand which is at the same time supporting the barrel of the gun. Once this sport was done with bow and arrow, thus both hands were completely occupied! The terrain is normally flat, but this does not exclude rocks, rat & fox holes, dry flood beds, etc. It is the horse who must make the decisions whilst going at full speed. The distance he must run depends on the angle and speed of horse and gazelle. Choosing the angle and manoeuvers when nearing the gazelle is where an expert hunter is separated from the stupid or amateur. The gazelle should pass within convenient shooting distance in front of him. Too slow, the gazelle is gone. Too fast, they will pass behind him. He will then not only have to be a good shot, he will also have to be a good acrobat!
In this world of gazelle chasing, hunting wild boar in muddy marshland and dense brush, using horses as transport, accompanying tribes on torturous mountain tracks, the horses I had dismissed as "goats" could not be compared with any other horse. On our first migrations some of the horses were urged up riderless over the boulders strewn on the steep mountain climbs. Likewise they needed help taking the sharp turns down the slippery descents, where the rocky surface shone like glass from centuries of use. Two years later, these same horses clambered up and down like mountain goats, outdoing the local tribal horses and sometimes even the mules! They were incredible! My Asil ‘disease’ became confirmed at this point and was to remain with me thereafter, playing a major role in my future life.
During the years of my marriage to Majid Bakhtiar, I was in charge of the management and breeding of his stock. It was a great blow to the Asil of the province when in the forties it was struck by an epidemic of African Horse Plague. Many strains were wiped out, and others decimated. For some reason those horses which survived were mostly the old or the very young. Out of eighty four horses of our stables only sixteen remained, notwithstanding that the first vaccinations started there. In most areas it was far worse. Many people became discouraged, having lost many of their best horses. We also felt the same way. It took a few years for the shock to wear off and the interest in breeding to take root again. However, since for the tribes of Khuzestan the owning of Asil mares was deeply woven with tradition, whoever had even one mare remaining held onto her. Those who had lost everything arranged to obtain at the least half of a pure mare from a friendly tribe. Most people kept the one mare, breeding her only when she started to age, and as soon as she produced a filly they would stop breeding. The filly was then kept with the same conditions. Male foals were no longer killed but were given away to non Arabs, or if they were of superior quality would be given as presents to officials with an interest in horses.
Majid’s stables had increased to about forty head, when he was killed in a plane accident. His stock was then donated to the Royal Horse Society of the time. Not long afterwards they were accepted by WAHO, although those of Khuzestan, the foundation of all the Asil of Iran, were not immediately accepted until we could provide proof of control of breeding. It was during this period that I found friends among Arab horse breeders elsewhere in the world, among them Gustl Eutermoser and Ulrika Marcik who I met in Sweden. They asked if they could come to visit me. I explained that I lived in an isolated area, the road somewhat undefined and my home hard to find. However, I gave them a primitive map and thought little more about it.
Quite late one rainy night sometime in the early spring of Khuzestan, the rainiest season of all, I heard the horn of a car at the gate. A Range Rover entered the courtyard. I was surprised, for the only person I knew with such a car would not have chosen such a wet night. Not only was the road bad, but there was a river to cross which, though not wide, could have dangerous flash floods. My surprise was all the greater when out of the car descended Gustl and Ulrika, together with a lady from Australia and a man from Germany. For two days we had hurried, dripping visits to the stables, not very pleasant in the incessant rain. Bored, they asked me if there was a sheikh we could visit, who was reputed for his traditional knowledge of the Asil? Sheikh Hajat of the Al Kathir, said to be one of the most authoritative men on the dispersal and fame of the strains of Khuzestan, lived not more than forty kilometers away. It was at the risk of becoming stuck in the mud that we decided to attempt to go to him. We had a fantastic drive which was more like sailing on a sea of mud than driving, but we eventually got there, cold and very wet.
Sheikh Hajat, whom I knew well, was very glad to see us. He had been a good friend of Majid’s and was one of my instructors in the field of the Asil of Khuzestan. He had an enormous brazier of red-hot charcoal set before us, and once we were warmed by tea and coffee, the conversation turned to my guests and the reason for their presence. They wanted his opinion as to the qualifications of a good Asil horse. He said: "First ask them which horse they are talking about. The horse of the "khiaban" (avenue, meaning a horse for showing off, festivities etc.) or a horse of the "biaban"? (the desert or the wilderness, meaning a horse for fighting, long distances, speed for hunting etc.) The reply was "the horse of the biaban".
He then replied: "First, before looking at the horse’s body, you must ensure that it has the five specifications of character: Courage. Intelligence. Stamina. Spirit. Above all "Nejabat" (a difficult word to translate, a mixture of nobleness, gentleness and the ethics of an aristocrat). If it lacks these virtues, no matter how pleasing he is to the eye, he is a worthless horse, so do not waste your time. If he has them then run your eyes over his conformation. The forehead should be wide, the eyes large and alive, the ears well placed and alert, the neck connection slender and refined, the shoulder sloping, the girth deep, the cannon short, the distance between the knees to come straight down to the ground" and so on. In short, many of his stipulations were similar to the opinions held by many writers, except when it came to the head, croup and tail carriage. He did not approve of the dish. He had seen it in exaggerated form on a stallion sent as a present from the States and considered it a deformity. The completely flat croup, he said, was pleasing to the eye, but not natural. In different strains and for different purposes, different types of croups were desirable. According to him in the Hamdani, the Nesman and sometimes the Saglawi flatter croups were to be expected, but such a croup on the Koheilans would be a sign of too much mixture. The horse would probably not have the ability expected of its strain. The tail he said, should never be carried like a cane, rather like a flag. The cane-like carriage came from a weak back and the flag-like carriage from a strong and straight spinal column. With such a horse, in battle, if another horse fell, the rider could be taken up behind.
My guests then wanted to know what diverse expectations there were from the different strains. In short he answered: From the Hamdani courage, from the Obayan Sharak a lightness and mobility causing it not to tire quickly and useful for fast manoeuver, from the Koheilans (many strains) stamina, as well as to outrun other strains over the longer stretches such as the chasing of gazelle. The Saglawi and the Nesman he classified more as horses for show. The Djelfe, he admitted, was a tough horse, though he ridiculed its wide spaced ears. For the Hadban and Maanghieh, who both belong to two Seyyid families (descendants of the Prophet) he professed to have little information, they being far from him and not numerous.
It must also be taken into consideration that the tribe or family owning a strain or strains consider them superior to the rest. Sheikh Hajat, along with two others, were almost exceptions, but never altogether. Thus, information received from one tribe or region may be refuted by another. Therefore, whatever group you happen to contact, their strain will undoubtedly be the best. This has always been so. As Prince Mohammad Ali in his book "Breeding of Pure Bred Arab Horses" comments: "Some Europeans make a big distinction between a Syrian, or desert and Najd horse; etc. All these horses are from the same origin ..... I am often amused to read about horse lovers who have had to deal with Arab horses; they seem to be quite convinced that the best horses are from this or that tribe. But I say this: There are good horses in all the tribes; Arabs are neighbours and warriors, they fight often between themselves and the conqueror takes all the best stock from the other. In this way good horses are taken from one tribe to another, and it is, therefore, more accurate to say that the strongest tribe gets the best."
In 1978 circumstances which included a six year war disrupted the continuance of any attempts to make the Asil of Khuzestan known outside. The war, like the African horse plague, again caused the loss of many horses, including some of the sub-strains. However, although during the ten years 1978 to 1988 there was no communication with other countries concerning the Asil horse, it appeared to some of us that if we did not start activities that would encourage the breeders, the Khuzestan Asil was in danger of becoming extinct. Mares and stallions known to be pure, plus those suspected to be but having lost their original owners and needing detailed re-checking, were branded for recognition. Gradually races, festivals, small endurance rides, and eventually conformation shows were organized. As each year passed, there was more activity and in consequence a reawakening of the Khuzestani interest in breeding.
In the meantime as of 1988 we were again in contact with the World Arabian Horse Organization. First there was work to be done to fill in the gap of ten years for our accepted horses and a new stud-book to be printed. Once this was cleared up, a great deal of work commenced on the Asils of Khuzestan, in order to provide proof of control of breeding. Eventually, pedigrees had to be given for each foundation animal, all connecting to pedigrees first compiled for WAHO twenty five years earlier. Finally, in June 1999 permission was given to prepare the official stud book for print. Three hundred and ninety mares and stallions are in the foundation, which with their progeny are now acceptable.
In this stud book will be found the Hamdani, Saglawi, Obayan, Wadnan Khersan, Hadban, and Koheilan, all with several sub-strains. Also Showeiman, Sobeili, Maanghieh, Djelfan, and a few of lesser known strains. Hopefully, with the co-operation of the breeders, help from the Equine Federation of Iran and the Asil Association, it will be possible to assist and strengthen the strain breeding in accordance with its age-old traditions and regulations, and in this way preserve the various abilities of the different strains, not just a prototype of a "horse of the Khiaban".