sohrab
Active member
The first thing I must do is to introduce myself. This I shall do insofar as it concerns my contact and involvement with the Asil or, as the West knows it, Arab horse. My name is Mary Gharagozlou. I am 74 years old. Speaking horse-wise, by blood I would be classified as an Anglo-Mongo, my mother being of Anglo-Saxon origin, and my father of Mongolian stock. By nationality, I am an Iranian and, I would like to add, I love my country, not wishing to live elsewhere. My father was a medical doctor who commenced his studies in France and Switzerland, finishing then in the United States. At that time, my grandfather represented Iran in Washington. Once he had acquired his degree, to the best of my knowledge my father obtained his permit to practice in the States, and intended to remain. However, he met my mother. When they decided to marry, much against the desire of her parents and his father, it was she who wanted them to come to Iran. It was, in her opinion, a romantic land of nightingales and roses. And this they did.
Horse of Khuzistan
Instead of setting up practice in Tehran, the capital, which would have been the normal thing to do, my father removed himself to the provincial town of Hamadan. Once known as Ecbatana, it had been the summer capital of the Achaemenian Empire prior to the conquest of the Empire by Alexander the Great in 330, In this region my father's family, having been a tribe, owned many villages. My father took on the responsibility of managing a house in a cool, beautiful, roadless mountain village, setting up an idyllic style of life. He organized clinics for the inhabitants of the villages. The winters they spent in Tehran. They were content, and everybody was happy. All this was cut short for him, for my mother, for me aged six, and my sister three and a half by his death at 37. As of the early age of three I was taken by my father, an ardent horseman, in front of him in the saddle. During the second summer of this activity, I had my first - oddly enough, worst - accident that was ever to befall me on a horse. Suddenly, coming upon a low branch that crossed our path, my father was obliged to bend down. The saddle we were on was one that had been bought specially for my mother. She was terrified of horses. This saddle had a high studded pommel for her to hold onto. My nose cracked into this pommel and broke. I never had it operated on, keeping a crooked nose as a souvenir. After his death, we children always had horses, which were kept in the mountain village of Varkaneh. These horses were of no particular breed. I met my first Asil when I was ten. He was a chestnut stallion, originally a gift from Saudi Arabia to our king.
He had later been lamed in racing and given to a cavalry officer of the Cossack regiment, in which Reza Shah served before he crowned himself. This horse was called Ilderim, meaning lightning in Turkish, not a very appropriate name for an Arab horse. Some past bad experience had taught him to dislike men, and he was considered a dangerous animal. At that time the cavalry organized paperchases. My guardian was a high-ranking cavalry officer, and his daughter and I both participated, though we were by far the youngest riders. Ilderim was usually brought along as a reserve horse, but I never saw him ridden. My own horse was not very strong. On one occasion, after the departure of the other riders, I returned to where the reserve horses were. The soldiers were playing a game with sheep's knuckles and were so absorbed they did not see me exchange my horse for Ilderim. He behaved like a lamb. After that I was allowed to use him in paperchases; however, no one explained to me that he had a bad tendon and I must be careful with him.
Galloping down a sandy riverbed, he suddenly slowed down, took several three-legged bounds, and stopped. His tendon was badly hurt and it was said that he must be put down. I carried on and made such a fuss that my uncle agreed to buy him for me. A Turkoman sergeant volunteered to try to cure him. He took the horse away and four months later came cantering up our street with a horse no longer lame but with one thick foreleg encased in felt. Ilderim was already over seventeen, and a few years later, due to expenses we could not manage, he was put down.
Afterwards, for several years my equestrian activities were restricted to the Turkoman horse, at that time used for both racing and jumping. I took part in both, in race training and in jumping training; competitions were only for the military. Then, Majid Bakhtiar and I decided to get married. He was a member of the Bakhtiari chiefs, a tribe inhabiting the region west and southwest of Isfahan. Their winter quarters were in the northern boundaries of Khuzistan, the oil and Asil Arab-producing province in Southern Iran. He owned properties in this province, and also a stable of purebred Asil horses inherited from his father aid forefathers.
At this time, I owned two of what I considered to be superior horses, which I had obtained at exorbitant prices after long searches. They were both part foreign, perhaps Anglo-Arab, Nonius, Furioso, or some other heavier breed mixed by the cavalry. 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 for me to choose from. In any case, if I insisted, he said, my horses, being stallions, would have to be castrated. No whole horses except those whose pedigrees were known were allowed within his stud. We finally agreed that no decision would be made until such time as I had seen his Asils. When I eventually did, I made a comment that shames me to this day. What I said was, 'Majid, how can you call these horses? These are goats!" In the end I brought along one of my "superior" horses. In the meantime, Majid had given me a flashy chestnut colt of the Wadnan Khersan strain, much esteemed in Khuzistan. He also bought me a black Obayan Sharak stallion from a neighboring sheikh. Within a year I had castrated my "superior" horse and given the other away. This was the way it came about.
We had commenced a very big mechanized farm, mainly doing dry farming. It was on land rented from the government, the whole over eight thousand hectares. I managed the internal activities of this project, attending to the land on horseback. One lovely spring afternoon, riding the black stallion, I was cantering quietly at 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 confused by his action. I thought dogs or hyenas were silently chasing us. I looked behind me. Nothing! I turned back and zip zip zip, three gazelles 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 tales of feats performed in the past by such-and-such a horse or man, I ridiculed the inability to compete as before. Majid and several of the Bakhtiari, with pretensions to huntino, and horsemanship, took up the challenge with a vengeance.
In the past there had been two methods of hunting gazelles with the horse. One, often seen in miniature paintings and recounted in ballads, was for a group of riders to form a large circle around the prey, moving closer until they were within shooting range. The gazelle would attempt to break through the riders. If he succeeded, the horsemen between whom he was able to save himself would be in disgrace. Or so it was recounted in ancient stories. The other method, used in Khuzistan and by us, needed far more technique, a great deal of patience, and good judgment of speed and distance. The chances of the gazelle's escaping were about seventy percent in his favor. The hunter, or hunters, once they had spotted the gazelle, would start riding in a wide circle around their prey. They would not spread out, but remained together; usually not more than two hunters, walking their horses, slowly decreasing the circle. The gazelle would notice this, look up, become agitated, jog off for a short distance, stop, mill around, change direction, start off at a brisker ace, repeating this procedure and eventually going into a canter. All the while the stalker must keep calm. He must not quicken his pace to more than a fast walk. Not until the gazelle has made 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 veer or turn. This is when the hunter "unleashes" his horse at a course diagonal to that of the gazelle. When and how their courses meet will define the results of the hunt. The gazelle, in his first burst of speed, can do something like 90 kph, thus the need for proper calculation. The horse is galloping full-out. He has his head. The reins are gathered loosely in the left hand, which is at the same time supporting the barrel of the gun whilst the right hand must squeeze the trigger. Once, this sport was done with a bow and arrow. The terrain is normally flat, but this does not exclude rocks, and rat and fox holes, dry streambeds, and so on. It is the horse who must make his decisions while going at full speed. The distance he must run depends on the angle and speed of horse and gazelle. The choosing of the angle, and the maneuvers when nearing the gazelle, are where the expert hunters are 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 have to be a contortionist! In this world of gazelle chasing, hunting wild boar in marshland and dense brush, using horses as transport accompanying tribes on tortuous mountain tracks, "goats" could not be compared to any other horse. I had caught the "Asil bug," intensified ten years later when I was in charge of a project within the Bakhtiari tribe, migrating biannually across the rugged Zagros mountains which separate their summer and winter quarters. Drawing up a list of my requirements for this project, I requested forty Asil horses as transport.
"Why Asil?" I was asked. "Why not just horses?" I pointed out that among us respect was often "through the eye. What would be thought of an important official appearing in a broken-down, ramshackle vehicle? Likewise, in an equine-oriented tribe, we would be ridiculed appearing on "yaboos" (nondescript horses of any type). On the first migrations with the tribe, some of the horses were urged and tugged 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 polished glass from centuries of use. Two years later, these same horses clambered up and down like mountain goats, outdoing the local horses, and sometimes even the mules! They were incredible! My Asil disease became strengthened and was to remain with me, playing a major role in my future life.
The Asil horse of Iran originated in Khuzistan, an extension of the great Mesopotamian plain whose earliest inhabitants were the Elamites. The capital of the Elamites was Susa (the present-day Shush), and a substantial portion of Susa's wealth originated from trade with the Persian Gulf.
In the region known as Mesopotamia (whose principal rivers are the Euphrates and the Tigris and whose name derives from the Greek "between rivers"), the civilizations of the Elamites, Assyrians, and Babylonians existed contemporaneously some three thousand years before Christ. The Elamites had frequent, often hostile, contact with the Assyrians and the Babylonians.
In rock carvings of the Elamices horses are depicted, and the Assyrians are said to be the first who used them in battles, their archers shooting from horseback. The Assyrians conquered the Elamites and were themselves, along with the Babylonians, conquered by Persian Achaemenian kings, who formed a vast empire. Later, they too suffered defeat at the hands of Alexander the Great, who died shortly afterwards. Then two other Persian dynasties came to power that directly affected Mesopotamia: the Parthian and the Sassanian. The Parthian Kings' winter residence, Ctesiphon (near present-day Kirkuk), became the capital of the Sassanids, who were the last native rulers to reign in Persia before the Arab conquest, which ocurred around 640. With the advent of Islam, Baghdad, close to the site of Babylon, became the hub of Middle Eastern civilization and influence until it was sacked by the Mongols in 1258. It revived, was captured by Tamerlan in 1400, and was finally absorbed in the Ottoman Empire in 1638.
As is seen, the horse existed as of the beginning of a prolonged era. Without doubt, the inhabitants of this region had the same methods of agriculture and animal husbandry, producing the same crops and livestock. Since horses were used for war, travel, and agriculture, they undoubtedly bred quite a considerable indigenous number. That during these centuries of battles, conquests, and defeats, outside horses did enter, and were mixed either by design or accident, is both possible and probable. This is long, long ago, for at the time of the Prophet Mohammed, one thousand four hundred years ago, there was already a horse known as Asil (pure). Considering the importance of the horse in battle, swift relay of news, travel and agriculture, the Prophet encouraged the keeping and care of horses with over one thousand regulations, recommendations, and sayings. There was incentive both for the materialistic-minded and the spiritual. The share of booty from battle was one for the rider and two for the horse. The forehead of the mare brought luck to its owner and its back bounty. Every Grant of barley fed to a mare was recorded as a good deed. At that time the Moslem religion plaved the main role in producing the Asil, through the strict rules of breeding, the social standing given the Asil within the household and the value given to the horse, which differs from the status of any other breed ever developed. The mare, and subsequently the strain maintained by a tribe or family, represented their honor and respectability. The sale of horses was altogether looked down upon. The sale of a mare was likened to the sale of a wife. Indeed, in Islamic law the abandonment of a mare brings the same punitive measures as the abandonment of a wife or child. It would appear, consequently, that the most appropriate name for this breed would be the Islamic horse, rather than Arab, or even Asil. One of the differences between the Western concept of an Arab, or Asil horse, and that of the Middle East, is the acceptance or non-acceptance of strains and what they are intended to represent. The Western disregard for the strain system probably started with Lady Blunt with her example of a mare from a certain strain bred several generations to outside strains, but still known by the original dam line. Such a condition occurs rarely, if at all, particularly in the period when she was writing, and can only be considered hypothetical. The reason is that the custom among Arab breeders then, and in some cases now, was that stallions were kept only by sheikhs and chiefs for the use of members of their tribe or clan. Colts were not kept, except for the above purpose, and were either killed or given away to non-Arabs before reaching maturity. Invariably those stallions that were kept were of the strain or strains maintained by the tribe of the sheikh in question. For a member of a tribe to take his mare to the stallion of another sheikh would be considered a direct insult to his own chief. Today it would appear the Arab strain system has done a great service to the Asil horse. Working within the strain system, and often, unlike our Khuzistani Asil breeders, without having modern knowledge of genetics, I have found the prepoteticy of the female influence amazingly strong.
As has been recorded many times, there are five main top strains known as the Khamseh (the five) which are, so to speak, considered the cream of the crop. The majority of writings and tribal traditions consider these to be the Koheilan, Hamdaii, Hadban, Obeyan, and Saglawi. In some accounts there are variations, and the Shwieman replaces one of the above. The fourteenthcentury Arab Ibn Hodeil mentions in his writings some strain-names that are not current today. Each of the Khamseh have subtribes. According to the American W. R. Brown, the Keheilan have sixty-four. Then there are the lesser-knovin strains such as the Radban, the Dahaiman, the Manaak Hedri (known also as the Maanghieh), the Sobeiii, Toweisan, Djelfan, etc. Most of these, again, have substrains. As a general rule, mares of the Khamseh should be bred only to stallions of the IGiamseh; however, there are exceptions (for example, the Jarjari substrain of the Djeifan). In Khuzistan, many of the substrains no longer exist, or many never have done so. For instance, of the sixty-four Keheilan we have the Adjuz, the Khorush, the Wadnan Khersan, and several substrains possibly unique or local such as Hetli, Harghe, and Nesman. The most famous of all strains of the Koheilan, indeed considered better than all others, is the Wadnan Khersan, usually referred to only as Khersan. Their stallions are considered acceptable by all Khuzistani tribes, and in particular those of the Mir. This is exceptional, for normally each tribe considers its strain the best!
Studying the origin of strains exported and appearing in Western stud books, it puzzled me that I never came across a Wadnan Khersan until I found a passage in a book about Ninevali by the ninetbeenth-centul-y archaeologist and diplomat Sir Austen Henry Layard. The book relates his discovery and excavation of the ruins of Nineveh, the ancient capital of the Assyrian Empire. He dedicates a few pages to the Arab horse, which, considering the length of time he spent in those regions and his inquisitive nature, is probably more authentic than information given by guides and dealers to prospective purchasers of the Arab horse. In one passage he refers to the Wadnan Khersmi as follows: "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 knowi-i are the Wadnan Khersan, so called from the mare being worth her weight in gold. (Noble horses of this blood are said to be found amongst the Arabs inhabiting the east of the Euphrates: the Bani Lam, Al Khamees and Al Kathere)." He continues: "They rarely even change hands among the tribes themselves." In Khuzistan, up to the present, the Wane Khersani mares of the Mir tribe have never been sold, or even given as gifts for weddings, blood feuds, or consolation for deaths. Their stallions are lent out to be used at stud. The mares that have found their way into the breeding of tribes other than the Mir, such as those found in volume one of our stud book, are mares that were taken by force in local battles.
The criteria set for each strain of the Khamseh differ. There is not a prototype. Differences are expected not only in conformation, but also in temperament. The Koheilaii, on the whole, are heavier boned, have plain heads, a sloping croup (this being a requirement, for they are for long distance, speed, and endurance), and in character are less excitable than most of the others. The Hamdani has a square croup, covers more ground in comparison to height, seen in profile has a protruding chest, and is known for courage. Generally the Saglawi and the Nesman (a Koheilaii derivative: possibly bred purposely for looks) are good horses for show, with shorter backs, high tail carriage, high stepping and prancing, with a croup more attractive to the Western eye. Ibn Hodeil calls the flat croup the "square croup," saying it is more pleasant to the eye, but not desirable for the horse of action.
Sheikh Hajat Al-E-Kassir, who is considered an expert in Khuzistan, divides the Asil horse roughly into two categories: the horse "for the wilderness," and the horse for the "avenue." The former is used for endurance and long distance speed, the latter for festivities, and so forth.
According to him there are five virtues the Asil horse must have before you look at his conformation. These virtues are courage, ability and endurance, intelligence, spirit, and above all "nejabat." This last is a mixture of nobility and good temperament.
Today, as in the past, there are tribes or families known as reliable sources for a particular strain. For example, if two Khuzistanis are discussing the authenticity of a mare and one tells the other that she is a Koheile, he will be asked "Of whose Koheiles?" This does not mean who owns it, but rather from which known source of Koheiles does it originate. Between the African horse plague some forty years ago, mechanization, and lately, war on the border, where there are still many horses, some strains, along with their owners, have become lost. Nevertheless, some strains are s till known by their names. Our Koheilans are known as coming from Kobor (Karibod), Mijadamf, Deheimi; Jui, Shagati, etc. The Hamdani of the Al-EKassir (one of the three tribes mentioned as living east. of the Euphrates by Layard, along with the other two, Al Khamees and.Bani Lam, exists today in Khuzistan) are the best known, though they also own Saglawis and Wad.nans. The best-known Saglawis are those of the Ziareh. The Waanan Khersan of the Mir are practically venerated, with many superstitions attached to. these particular ones. Indeed, almost every strain has a tale to tell..The Baiii Lam owned various strains, but were best known for the Nesman. In her diary, Lady Anne Blunt, when crossing through Khuzistan to the port of Bushire together with her husband Wilfrid who was seriously ill, mentions this strain which she sees for -the first time among the Bani Lam tribe. Among those in search of the Arab horse, only Lady Blunt crossed the border into Iran (Persia), and she, for other reasons than the horse. This has puzzled me as much as the-absence of the Wadnan Khersan in Western pedigrees. A recently man-made border surely does not immediately change the humans, flora, or fauna of an area! What prevented others from venturing into Persia? To an extent, Lady Blunt's diary provides an explanation, for hardly have they entered Khuzistan territory when their caravan is in danger of attack. It can be surmised that the' Arabs were well controlled by the British, thus allowing foreigners to wander freely (according to many accounts), but whilst in Khusistan, remote from central power, this was not the case.
On her hurried journey to Bushire, she occasionally comes into contact with horses, some of which she critisizes less than many she saw in Arabia, but she nevertheless has this theory that they are all brought by pilgrims going to Mecca or Karbollah. Among the Arab tribes there has seldom been written documentation on the origin of their horses, Occasionally-old papers of transactions and the like are to be found, often falling apart, hidden in the bottom of a seldom- visited chest, or, as in the case of their children, recorded in the back of the family Koran. However, even if not on paper, this does not mean that there is no information, It is recorded, as they say, "within the chest." From my experience, I would call this a kind of "living computer." Word-of-mouth from father to son for generations; for their own lineage and for that of their horses. I have written down up to eighteen generations for horses in a family who prattled off their own ancestors twelve generation back as if they were reciting nursery rhymes! Normally the horses do not have names but are identified by their markings and color, or as "the floppy-eared one," "the wide-crouped grey," "the gazelle catcher,"" aand so forth. Not until the death of Majid Bakhtiar, when his horses were donated by my stepchildren to the then Royal Horse Society, was an official book published. At this time contact was made with the World Arabian Horse Organization, and inspection was requested, which took place in 1975. In 1976, with the publication of the first stud book, the acceptance of the former stud of Majid Bakhtiar and related horses was made official at the WAHO meeting in San Francisco. Though the roots of all accepted horses sprang from Khuzistani stock, the inspection of the Khuzistan horses was postponed until such time as enough information could be documented to be put into pedigree form. Eventually, when this was completed, a second trip was made by the inspection team consisting of Mr. Don Ford, Count Claus Lewenhaupt, and of course Dr. Pesi Gazcter. Their report was favorable; nevertheless, the decision of the executive committee was that these horses should be given an identifying brand, not to be entered into the accepted stud book until control could be proven. Due to circumstances beyond control, it took from 1976 to 1999 to get 394 foundation stock of Khuzistan finally accepted. It was a very long uphill journey but, in the end, worth the effort. As of three years ago, a group who believe in the Asil have formed what is the equivalent of a society, called the Asil Association. For the time being, I am responsible for its activities. Before the acceptance of the Kliuzistan horses (referred to as the KH) in London last summer, I was hesitant to press for membership, donations, or publicity. Since my return from England, where I was advised of the decision of the WAHO executive committee, the Asil Association has been gathering members and momentum. Under the auspices of the Equine Federation it has the responsibilities of compiling the next stud book, controlling births and breeding, and encouraging the participation of owners unaccustomed to shows and competitions by organizing local endurance events, shows, and racing. Racing began gradually some eight years ago, and though the Khuzistanis still shy away from it, more sophisticated owners have become enthusiastic and are interested in the establishment of new tracks away from Tehran, and exclusively for Arabs. There are now two such tracks, both in the eastern part of Iran. One started for the first time this autumn in Yazd, and the second in Bam, which had two races last spring and will have them, hopefully, from now on. As of this past autumn, I have started a small center for breeding Asils in the free zone of Arg Bam. As a track exists there, and there are facilities not easily obtainable elsewhere, I am hoping to make this into a center for racing, training, instruction for the handling and training of young horses, shoeing, and so on. Both Yazd and Bam are ancient cities with many different sights to be seen. Though the summers are hot, the rest of the year the climate is suitable for all sorts of activities. If I can find interested people, I would like to start tourist treks on horseback in these regions.We have had some endurance rides and the average times of some of these rides have been remarkable, notwithstanding that the horses and riders were by no means properly conditioned for such feats. We shall have three or four endurance rides during the year 2000, and with advice and pointers kindly given by Dr. Pavord, top veterinarian in the field of endurance, I think we will improve. In shows, we are sadly lacking, particularly in the provinces. Neither horse nor man knows how they should handle themselves, and we have no adequate instructors. In early spring, we have had for the past several years what we call the Khuzistan Festival. This festival has taken place each year in a different region, usually removed from towns, to resemble insofar as possible the customs of the Arab tribal festivities of this nature. The lack of all facilities makes it difficult, and therefore it will be attempted to define a permanent site where at least access to electricity and water do not present problems. In these affairs we have races, and endurance rides, and shows. This has encouraged the locals to organize small meets in six different areas in Khuzistan during the past year.
For those of us who wish to establish the Asil, it is taking time; for unfortunately, the more affluent horse owners, mostly from the capital and not really knowledgeable in the equine field, are involved in third class imported Thoroughbreds, which, in any case, are not suited to our climate.
The Asil Association would be glad to answer anv questions you might like to ask, or to welcome any visitors interested in the Asil and its surroundings.
Horse of Khuzistan
Instead of setting up practice in Tehran, the capital, which would have been the normal thing to do, my father removed himself to the provincial town of Hamadan. Once known as Ecbatana, it had been the summer capital of the Achaemenian Empire prior to the conquest of the Empire by Alexander the Great in 330, In this region my father's family, having been a tribe, owned many villages. My father took on the responsibility of managing a house in a cool, beautiful, roadless mountain village, setting up an idyllic style of life. He organized clinics for the inhabitants of the villages. The winters they spent in Tehran. They were content, and everybody was happy. All this was cut short for him, for my mother, for me aged six, and my sister three and a half by his death at 37. As of the early age of three I was taken by my father, an ardent horseman, in front of him in the saddle. During the second summer of this activity, I had my first - oddly enough, worst - accident that was ever to befall me on a horse. Suddenly, coming upon a low branch that crossed our path, my father was obliged to bend down. The saddle we were on was one that had been bought specially for my mother. She was terrified of horses. This saddle had a high studded pommel for her to hold onto. My nose cracked into this pommel and broke. I never had it operated on, keeping a crooked nose as a souvenir. After his death, we children always had horses, which were kept in the mountain village of Varkaneh. These horses were of no particular breed. I met my first Asil when I was ten. He was a chestnut stallion, originally a gift from Saudi Arabia to our king.
He had later been lamed in racing and given to a cavalry officer of the Cossack regiment, in which Reza Shah served before he crowned himself. This horse was called Ilderim, meaning lightning in Turkish, not a very appropriate name for an Arab horse. Some past bad experience had taught him to dislike men, and he was considered a dangerous animal. At that time the cavalry organized paperchases. My guardian was a high-ranking cavalry officer, and his daughter and I both participated, though we were by far the youngest riders. Ilderim was usually brought along as a reserve horse, but I never saw him ridden. My own horse was not very strong. On one occasion, after the departure of the other riders, I returned to where the reserve horses were. The soldiers were playing a game with sheep's knuckles and were so absorbed they did not see me exchange my horse for Ilderim. He behaved like a lamb. After that I was allowed to use him in paperchases; however, no one explained to me that he had a bad tendon and I must be careful with him.
Galloping down a sandy riverbed, he suddenly slowed down, took several three-legged bounds, and stopped. His tendon was badly hurt and it was said that he must be put down. I carried on and made such a fuss that my uncle agreed to buy him for me. A Turkoman sergeant volunteered to try to cure him. He took the horse away and four months later came cantering up our street with a horse no longer lame but with one thick foreleg encased in felt. Ilderim was already over seventeen, and a few years later, due to expenses we could not manage, he was put down.
Afterwards, for several years my equestrian activities were restricted to the Turkoman horse, at that time used for both racing and jumping. I took part in both, in race training and in jumping training; competitions were only for the military. Then, Majid Bakhtiar and I decided to get married. He was a member of the Bakhtiari chiefs, a tribe inhabiting the region west and southwest of Isfahan. Their winter quarters were in the northern boundaries of Khuzistan, the oil and Asil Arab-producing province in Southern Iran. He owned properties in this province, and also a stable of purebred Asil horses inherited from his father aid forefathers.
At this time, I owned two of what I considered to be superior horses, which I had obtained at exorbitant prices after long searches. They were both part foreign, perhaps Anglo-Arab, Nonius, Furioso, or some other heavier breed mixed by the cavalry. 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 for me to choose from. In any case, if I insisted, he said, my horses, being stallions, would have to be castrated. No whole horses except those whose pedigrees were known were allowed within his stud. We finally agreed that no decision would be made until such time as I had seen his Asils. When I eventually did, I made a comment that shames me to this day. What I said was, 'Majid, how can you call these horses? These are goats!" In the end I brought along one of my "superior" horses. In the meantime, Majid had given me a flashy chestnut colt of the Wadnan Khersan strain, much esteemed in Khuzistan. He also bought me a black Obayan Sharak stallion from a neighboring sheikh. Within a year I had castrated my "superior" horse and given the other away. This was the way it came about.
We had commenced a very big mechanized farm, mainly doing dry farming. It was on land rented from the government, the whole over eight thousand hectares. I managed the internal activities of this project, attending to the land on horseback. One lovely spring afternoon, riding the black stallion, I was cantering quietly at 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 confused by his action. I thought dogs or hyenas were silently chasing us. I looked behind me. Nothing! I turned back and zip zip zip, three gazelles 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 tales of feats performed in the past by such-and-such a horse or man, I ridiculed the inability to compete as before. Majid and several of the Bakhtiari, with pretensions to huntino, and horsemanship, took up the challenge with a vengeance.
In the past there had been two methods of hunting gazelles with the horse. One, often seen in miniature paintings and recounted in ballads, was for a group of riders to form a large circle around the prey, moving closer until they were within shooting range. The gazelle would attempt to break through the riders. If he succeeded, the horsemen between whom he was able to save himself would be in disgrace. Or so it was recounted in ancient stories. The other method, used in Khuzistan and by us, needed far more technique, a great deal of patience, and good judgment of speed and distance. The chances of the gazelle's escaping were about seventy percent in his favor. The hunter, or hunters, once they had spotted the gazelle, would start riding in a wide circle around their prey. They would not spread out, but remained together; usually not more than two hunters, walking their horses, slowly decreasing the circle. The gazelle would notice this, look up, become agitated, jog off for a short distance, stop, mill around, change direction, start off at a brisker ace, repeating this procedure and eventually going into a canter. All the while the stalker must keep calm. He must not quicken his pace to more than a fast walk. Not until the gazelle has made 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 veer or turn. This is when the hunter "unleashes" his horse at a course diagonal to that of the gazelle. When and how their courses meet will define the results of the hunt. The gazelle, in his first burst of speed, can do something like 90 kph, thus the need for proper calculation. The horse is galloping full-out. He has his head. The reins are gathered loosely in the left hand, which is at the same time supporting the barrel of the gun whilst the right hand must squeeze the trigger. Once, this sport was done with a bow and arrow. The terrain is normally flat, but this does not exclude rocks, and rat and fox holes, dry streambeds, and so on. It is the horse who must make his decisions while going at full speed. The distance he must run depends on the angle and speed of horse and gazelle. The choosing of the angle, and the maneuvers when nearing the gazelle, are where the expert hunters are 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 have to be a contortionist! In this world of gazelle chasing, hunting wild boar in marshland and dense brush, using horses as transport accompanying tribes on tortuous mountain tracks, "goats" could not be compared to any other horse. I had caught the "Asil bug," intensified ten years later when I was in charge of a project within the Bakhtiari tribe, migrating biannually across the rugged Zagros mountains which separate their summer and winter quarters. Drawing up a list of my requirements for this project, I requested forty Asil horses as transport.
"Why Asil?" I was asked. "Why not just horses?" I pointed out that among us respect was often "through the eye. What would be thought of an important official appearing in a broken-down, ramshackle vehicle? Likewise, in an equine-oriented tribe, we would be ridiculed appearing on "yaboos" (nondescript horses of any type). On the first migrations with the tribe, some of the horses were urged and tugged 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 polished glass from centuries of use. Two years later, these same horses clambered up and down like mountain goats, outdoing the local horses, and sometimes even the mules! They were incredible! My Asil disease became strengthened and was to remain with me, playing a major role in my future life.
The Asil horse of Iran originated in Khuzistan, an extension of the great Mesopotamian plain whose earliest inhabitants were the Elamites. The capital of the Elamites was Susa (the present-day Shush), and a substantial portion of Susa's wealth originated from trade with the Persian Gulf.
In the region known as Mesopotamia (whose principal rivers are the Euphrates and the Tigris and whose name derives from the Greek "between rivers"), the civilizations of the Elamites, Assyrians, and Babylonians existed contemporaneously some three thousand years before Christ. The Elamites had frequent, often hostile, contact with the Assyrians and the Babylonians.
In rock carvings of the Elamices horses are depicted, and the Assyrians are said to be the first who used them in battles, their archers shooting from horseback. The Assyrians conquered the Elamites and were themselves, along with the Babylonians, conquered by Persian Achaemenian kings, who formed a vast empire. Later, they too suffered defeat at the hands of Alexander the Great, who died shortly afterwards. Then two other Persian dynasties came to power that directly affected Mesopotamia: the Parthian and the Sassanian. The Parthian Kings' winter residence, Ctesiphon (near present-day Kirkuk), became the capital of the Sassanids, who were the last native rulers to reign in Persia before the Arab conquest, which ocurred around 640. With the advent of Islam, Baghdad, close to the site of Babylon, became the hub of Middle Eastern civilization and influence until it was sacked by the Mongols in 1258. It revived, was captured by Tamerlan in 1400, and was finally absorbed in the Ottoman Empire in 1638.
As is seen, the horse existed as of the beginning of a prolonged era. Without doubt, the inhabitants of this region had the same methods of agriculture and animal husbandry, producing the same crops and livestock. Since horses were used for war, travel, and agriculture, they undoubtedly bred quite a considerable indigenous number. That during these centuries of battles, conquests, and defeats, outside horses did enter, and were mixed either by design or accident, is both possible and probable. This is long, long ago, for at the time of the Prophet Mohammed, one thousand four hundred years ago, there was already a horse known as Asil (pure). Considering the importance of the horse in battle, swift relay of news, travel and agriculture, the Prophet encouraged the keeping and care of horses with over one thousand regulations, recommendations, and sayings. There was incentive both for the materialistic-minded and the spiritual. The share of booty from battle was one for the rider and two for the horse. The forehead of the mare brought luck to its owner and its back bounty. Every Grant of barley fed to a mare was recorded as a good deed. At that time the Moslem religion plaved the main role in producing the Asil, through the strict rules of breeding, the social standing given the Asil within the household and the value given to the horse, which differs from the status of any other breed ever developed. The mare, and subsequently the strain maintained by a tribe or family, represented their honor and respectability. The sale of horses was altogether looked down upon. The sale of a mare was likened to the sale of a wife. Indeed, in Islamic law the abandonment of a mare brings the same punitive measures as the abandonment of a wife or child. It would appear, consequently, that the most appropriate name for this breed would be the Islamic horse, rather than Arab, or even Asil. One of the differences between the Western concept of an Arab, or Asil horse, and that of the Middle East, is the acceptance or non-acceptance of strains and what they are intended to represent. The Western disregard for the strain system probably started with Lady Blunt with her example of a mare from a certain strain bred several generations to outside strains, but still known by the original dam line. Such a condition occurs rarely, if at all, particularly in the period when she was writing, and can only be considered hypothetical. The reason is that the custom among Arab breeders then, and in some cases now, was that stallions were kept only by sheikhs and chiefs for the use of members of their tribe or clan. Colts were not kept, except for the above purpose, and were either killed or given away to non-Arabs before reaching maturity. Invariably those stallions that were kept were of the strain or strains maintained by the tribe of the sheikh in question. For a member of a tribe to take his mare to the stallion of another sheikh would be considered a direct insult to his own chief. Today it would appear the Arab strain system has done a great service to the Asil horse. Working within the strain system, and often, unlike our Khuzistani Asil breeders, without having modern knowledge of genetics, I have found the prepoteticy of the female influence amazingly strong.
As has been recorded many times, there are five main top strains known as the Khamseh (the five) which are, so to speak, considered the cream of the crop. The majority of writings and tribal traditions consider these to be the Koheilan, Hamdaii, Hadban, Obeyan, and Saglawi. In some accounts there are variations, and the Shwieman replaces one of the above. The fourteenthcentury Arab Ibn Hodeil mentions in his writings some strain-names that are not current today. Each of the Khamseh have subtribes. According to the American W. R. Brown, the Keheilan have sixty-four. Then there are the lesser-knovin strains such as the Radban, the Dahaiman, the Manaak Hedri (known also as the Maanghieh), the Sobeiii, Toweisan, Djelfan, etc. Most of these, again, have substrains. As a general rule, mares of the Khamseh should be bred only to stallions of the IGiamseh; however, there are exceptions (for example, the Jarjari substrain of the Djeifan). In Khuzistan, many of the substrains no longer exist, or many never have done so. For instance, of the sixty-four Keheilan we have the Adjuz, the Khorush, the Wadnan Khersan, and several substrains possibly unique or local such as Hetli, Harghe, and Nesman. The most famous of all strains of the Koheilan, indeed considered better than all others, is the Wadnan Khersan, usually referred to only as Khersan. Their stallions are considered acceptable by all Khuzistani tribes, and in particular those of the Mir. This is exceptional, for normally each tribe considers its strain the best!
Studying the origin of strains exported and appearing in Western stud books, it puzzled me that I never came across a Wadnan Khersan until I found a passage in a book about Ninevali by the ninetbeenth-centul-y archaeologist and diplomat Sir Austen Henry Layard. The book relates his discovery and excavation of the ruins of Nineveh, the ancient capital of the Assyrian Empire. He dedicates a few pages to the Arab horse, which, considering the length of time he spent in those regions and his inquisitive nature, is probably more authentic than information given by guides and dealers to prospective purchasers of the Arab horse. In one passage he refers to the Wadnan Khersmi as follows: "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 knowi-i are the Wadnan Khersan, so called from the mare being worth her weight in gold. (Noble horses of this blood are said to be found amongst the Arabs inhabiting the east of the Euphrates: the Bani Lam, Al Khamees and Al Kathere)." He continues: "They rarely even change hands among the tribes themselves." In Khuzistan, up to the present, the Wane Khersani mares of the Mir tribe have never been sold, or even given as gifts for weddings, blood feuds, or consolation for deaths. Their stallions are lent out to be used at stud. The mares that have found their way into the breeding of tribes other than the Mir, such as those found in volume one of our stud book, are mares that were taken by force in local battles.
The criteria set for each strain of the Khamseh differ. There is not a prototype. Differences are expected not only in conformation, but also in temperament. The Koheilaii, on the whole, are heavier boned, have plain heads, a sloping croup (this being a requirement, for they are for long distance, speed, and endurance), and in character are less excitable than most of the others. The Hamdani has a square croup, covers more ground in comparison to height, seen in profile has a protruding chest, and is known for courage. Generally the Saglawi and the Nesman (a Koheilaii derivative: possibly bred purposely for looks) are good horses for show, with shorter backs, high tail carriage, high stepping and prancing, with a croup more attractive to the Western eye. Ibn Hodeil calls the flat croup the "square croup," saying it is more pleasant to the eye, but not desirable for the horse of action.
Sheikh Hajat Al-E-Kassir, who is considered an expert in Khuzistan, divides the Asil horse roughly into two categories: the horse "for the wilderness," and the horse for the "avenue." The former is used for endurance and long distance speed, the latter for festivities, and so forth.
According to him there are five virtues the Asil horse must have before you look at his conformation. These virtues are courage, ability and endurance, intelligence, spirit, and above all "nejabat." This last is a mixture of nobility and good temperament.
Today, as in the past, there are tribes or families known as reliable sources for a particular strain. For example, if two Khuzistanis are discussing the authenticity of a mare and one tells the other that she is a Koheile, he will be asked "Of whose Koheiles?" This does not mean who owns it, but rather from which known source of Koheiles does it originate. Between the African horse plague some forty years ago, mechanization, and lately, war on the border, where there are still many horses, some strains, along with their owners, have become lost. Nevertheless, some strains are s till known by their names. Our Koheilans are known as coming from Kobor (Karibod), Mijadamf, Deheimi; Jui, Shagati, etc. The Hamdani of the Al-EKassir (one of the three tribes mentioned as living east. of the Euphrates by Layard, along with the other two, Al Khamees and.Bani Lam, exists today in Khuzistan) are the best known, though they also own Saglawis and Wad.nans. The best-known Saglawis are those of the Ziareh. The Waanan Khersan of the Mir are practically venerated, with many superstitions attached to. these particular ones. Indeed, almost every strain has a tale to tell..The Baiii Lam owned various strains, but were best known for the Nesman. In her diary, Lady Anne Blunt, when crossing through Khuzistan to the port of Bushire together with her husband Wilfrid who was seriously ill, mentions this strain which she sees for -the first time among the Bani Lam tribe. Among those in search of the Arab horse, only Lady Blunt crossed the border into Iran (Persia), and she, for other reasons than the horse. This has puzzled me as much as the-absence of the Wadnan Khersan in Western pedigrees. A recently man-made border surely does not immediately change the humans, flora, or fauna of an area! What prevented others from venturing into Persia? To an extent, Lady Blunt's diary provides an explanation, for hardly have they entered Khuzistan territory when their caravan is in danger of attack. It can be surmised that the' Arabs were well controlled by the British, thus allowing foreigners to wander freely (according to many accounts), but whilst in Khusistan, remote from central power, this was not the case.
On her hurried journey to Bushire, she occasionally comes into contact with horses, some of which she critisizes less than many she saw in Arabia, but she nevertheless has this theory that they are all brought by pilgrims going to Mecca or Karbollah. Among the Arab tribes there has seldom been written documentation on the origin of their horses, Occasionally-old papers of transactions and the like are to be found, often falling apart, hidden in the bottom of a seldom- visited chest, or, as in the case of their children, recorded in the back of the family Koran. However, even if not on paper, this does not mean that there is no information, It is recorded, as they say, "within the chest." From my experience, I would call this a kind of "living computer." Word-of-mouth from father to son for generations; for their own lineage and for that of their horses. I have written down up to eighteen generations for horses in a family who prattled off their own ancestors twelve generation back as if they were reciting nursery rhymes! Normally the horses do not have names but are identified by their markings and color, or as "the floppy-eared one," "the wide-crouped grey," "the gazelle catcher,"" aand so forth. Not until the death of Majid Bakhtiar, when his horses were donated by my stepchildren to the then Royal Horse Society, was an official book published. At this time contact was made with the World Arabian Horse Organization, and inspection was requested, which took place in 1975. In 1976, with the publication of the first stud book, the acceptance of the former stud of Majid Bakhtiar and related horses was made official at the WAHO meeting in San Francisco. Though the roots of all accepted horses sprang from Khuzistani stock, the inspection of the Khuzistan horses was postponed until such time as enough information could be documented to be put into pedigree form. Eventually, when this was completed, a second trip was made by the inspection team consisting of Mr. Don Ford, Count Claus Lewenhaupt, and of course Dr. Pesi Gazcter. Their report was favorable; nevertheless, the decision of the executive committee was that these horses should be given an identifying brand, not to be entered into the accepted stud book until control could be proven. Due to circumstances beyond control, it took from 1976 to 1999 to get 394 foundation stock of Khuzistan finally accepted. It was a very long uphill journey but, in the end, worth the effort. As of three years ago, a group who believe in the Asil have formed what is the equivalent of a society, called the Asil Association. For the time being, I am responsible for its activities. Before the acceptance of the Kliuzistan horses (referred to as the KH) in London last summer, I was hesitant to press for membership, donations, or publicity. Since my return from England, where I was advised of the decision of the WAHO executive committee, the Asil Association has been gathering members and momentum. Under the auspices of the Equine Federation it has the responsibilities of compiling the next stud book, controlling births and breeding, and encouraging the participation of owners unaccustomed to shows and competitions by organizing local endurance events, shows, and racing. Racing began gradually some eight years ago, and though the Khuzistanis still shy away from it, more sophisticated owners have become enthusiastic and are interested in the establishment of new tracks away from Tehran, and exclusively for Arabs. There are now two such tracks, both in the eastern part of Iran. One started for the first time this autumn in Yazd, and the second in Bam, which had two races last spring and will have them, hopefully, from now on. As of this past autumn, I have started a small center for breeding Asils in the free zone of Arg Bam. As a track exists there, and there are facilities not easily obtainable elsewhere, I am hoping to make this into a center for racing, training, instruction for the handling and training of young horses, shoeing, and so on. Both Yazd and Bam are ancient cities with many different sights to be seen. Though the summers are hot, the rest of the year the climate is suitable for all sorts of activities. If I can find interested people, I would like to start tourist treks on horseback in these regions.We have had some endurance rides and the average times of some of these rides have been remarkable, notwithstanding that the horses and riders were by no means properly conditioned for such feats. We shall have three or four endurance rides during the year 2000, and with advice and pointers kindly given by Dr. Pavord, top veterinarian in the field of endurance, I think we will improve. In shows, we are sadly lacking, particularly in the provinces. Neither horse nor man knows how they should handle themselves, and we have no adequate instructors. In early spring, we have had for the past several years what we call the Khuzistan Festival. This festival has taken place each year in a different region, usually removed from towns, to resemble insofar as possible the customs of the Arab tribal festivities of this nature. The lack of all facilities makes it difficult, and therefore it will be attempted to define a permanent site where at least access to electricity and water do not present problems. In these affairs we have races, and endurance rides, and shows. This has encouraged the locals to organize small meets in six different areas in Khuzistan during the past year.
For those of us who wish to establish the Asil, it is taking time; for unfortunately, the more affluent horse owners, mostly from the capital and not really knowledgeable in the equine field, are involved in third class imported Thoroughbreds, which, in any case, are not suited to our climate.
The Asil Association would be glad to answer anv questions you might like to ask, or to welcome any visitors interested in the Asil and its surroundings.