4. Simʿān the Votary

That is what they call him today: “Simʿān the Votary.” Before he emigrated to America, his name was simply Simʿān. No one knew his family name, but his abominations made him so famous that his given name rendered a surname unnecessary. Throughout that Syrian district, “Simʿān” was enough to mean a man of enormous strength who lived in mountain caves, lay in wait for travelers, killed them, and robbed them of their possessions.

After years of this bitter life, he wanted to repent but failed. The people of his village did not believe his repentance, and the government paid it no heed. Its men pursued him from village to village until his livelihood was cut off and he nearly starved, with no hope of escaping such an existence.

And so Simʿān emigrated. How he obtained the necessary expense money needs no explanation. A man accustomed to a practice who wishes to abandon it but cannot will inevitably return to it. When a thief repents and then needs money, he becomes a thief again. Thus it was with Simʿān. Necessity called him to emigrate to America to escape his wretched circumstances and the government’s severe pressure. Despite thoughts of repentance, he was forced back onto unlawful paths to satisfy his need.

Simʿān came to America. From Syrians he met in Marseille and aboard ship—men who had already been to America and were now emigrating a second time—he had studied the life Syrians led there. He learned that a man like him could make no move unless he accepted life as a hired laborer content with bare subsistence. Before setting foot on dry land, therefore, he had resolved to launch a grand project by which he would collect a great deal of money from his countrymen scattered across the length and breadth of America.

He had been in New York only a few days when he found addresses for people he knew in the interior. He went to them and stayed in their homes. Contrary to all they expected, he appeared a model of chastity, gentleness, and meekness.

Once reputation begins to move, it outruns the wind. The report spread that Simʿān had come to America to atone for the sins he had committed in Syria; that he had repented before God and vowed the rest of his life to His service; and that he had therefore come to collect votive offerings from his countrymen for a national church to be built in his village.

Wretched Simʿān, come to America to collect offerings! And why not? A doubter had only to spend five minutes with him to see that he truly had changed from a devil of hell into an earthly angel. Here was a humble man who began his meal by making the sign of the cross and ended it with prayer; who sat among company without speaking unless questioned; who did not intrude into private affairs and said only what pleased everyone; who repeatedly invoked God’s signs and obedience to Him in every circumstance; who, whenever someone’s name was mentioned, implored Almighty God to grant that person success; and who, when someone bestowed an offering upon him, poured out fervent prayers in return. This behavior and the rest of its kind more astonished those who knew him, or knew of him, than would the sight of the morning star arriving in a chariot of fire beside Christ.

In the lands of emigration he was therefore named “Simʿān the Votary”: he had vowed himself to Almighty God, repented of his error, and put his faith in the world to come.[23] Under this name his fame flew abroad. He began traveling through America from town to town and state to state, mingling with people and showing them perfect meekness. He invited them to consecrate a little money to God’s service in exchange for his consecration of his entire life.

His reputation reached the old country. There the report spread among the whole population that Simʿān had vowed his life to the Lord’s service. At first they found it hard to believe, but news arriving in succession from every quarter confirmed the story until everyone trusted it. To them the name Simʿān came to signify repentance and remorse instead of vice in all its branches.

Simʿān persevered in his work, encouraged by people’s enthusiasm for his project and their concerted efforts to assist him. In some places they even formed committees on his behalf and appointed delegations to accompany him from house to house as he collected whatever generous hands would give. People showered money on him: some as offerings, some as personal gifts for his expenses. Simʿān put it all into a single pocket, telling the donors he had not come to America to collect for himself but for God; he therefore mixed it together so that all might enter God’s treasury.

His power over people’s minds came from the fact that they had known him as a thief and highwayman and now saw him pious and vowed to God. Strangers who knew little about him asked many questions. Some requested a letter of authorization from a bishop, priest, or society. He could find no answer, but called on those around him for help. They told the people his glorious history and how he had changed from a devil into an angel, from a wolf into a lamb. That was enough to ward off questions and did the work of a thousand permits, papers, or commissions.

In the final year, however, Simʿān sensed people turning away from his project. He grew afraid to enter large gatherings because some would ask how much he had collected. He answered only that he had not yet counted it and that God’s blessings would diminish the total if he did. Others asked whether he had sent any of the money home. To avoid answering, he would turn the conversation from America to China and flee any deeper discussion of a subject he hated to open for fear of investigation.

At last Simʿān resolved to depart and return home. He made his way to New York supplied with prayers from women and men. All hoped for their reward in the next world, envied his standing in the realm of piety and righteousness, and hoped that, in return for what they had donated, God would benefit them through Simʿān’s prayers. He had acquired the money in America by the sweat of the collection bag.[24]

Simʿān the Votary returned to his country in 1903. His first act was to enter his native village as a celebrated man renowned for virtue. The next day every inhabitant visited him. They all became his relations and friends, and he became close to all and beloved by everyone. No one any longer feared his wickedness or avoided him.

Before a month had passed, Simʿān began to build. Rumor announced that he had started the church. Whenever someone questioned him, he nodded without opening his mouth. Their amazement was great when the building rose above its foundations and revealed itself as a house, not a church. Rumor began again: with the money collected in America, Simʿān was building a house for himself instead of a house for the Lord.

The news reached America. People marveled, regretted what they had done for him and the honor and celebration they had bestowed, and reproached one another for having fallen prey to his trick and failing to investigate him from the beginning.

Simʿān the Votary is still alive and provided for. Although the war years carried off nine-tenths of the people in his village, he and his family survived, and his fortune multiplied many times over.[25]

A fellow villager who returned from America after the Armistice visited him and asked about the donated funds.[26] Simʿān said he had used them to build a house for the Lord and had taken up residence in it because the Lord does not dwell in houses. Since he himself had vowed his person to the Lord in atonement for his sins, he was obliged to inhabit the house he had built from donations to God’s house.

The visitor asked, “What did you think of the Syrian emigrants in America?”

“They have sound hearts and do not turn away anyone who asks—with the exception of a few who acquired a lack of religion in America. They mock public projects and care nothing for their homeland.”

“And you blame them?”

“Yes, I blame them because they obstruct people who have hopes for their homeland. Had it not been for those godless philosophers, I would have collected enough to erect a church in this village. But the amount I gathered would not have built one corner of a church.”

“That is why, it appears, you built yourself a house with the money, so it would not go to waste. Is that right?”

“Yes. For that very reason.”

“You are right. How good the emigrants’ hearts are, and how innocent their intentions! Still, I pray that the number among them who have vowed their lives to the Lord, as you have, may increase. Perhaps then the emigrants will learn and take warning.”

NOTES

[23] The title printed by Hindawi is Simʿān al-Nādir, “Simʿān the Rare/Extraordinary.” The story repeatedly derives his epithet from nadhr, a religious vow, and calls him nādhir, one who has made such a vow. “The Votary” preserves the governing pun rather than the title’s literal adjective.
[24] A comic deformation of “by the sweat of his brow”: the Arabic says ʿaraq al-qirba, literally “the sweat of the waterskin/bag.” The labor is performed not by Simʿān’s brow but by the receptacle into which donations are gathered.
[25] “The war years” are the First World War. Ottoman Syria suffered wartime requisitioning, blockade, epidemic, and the catastrophic famine of 1915–18. Haddad’s “nine-tenths” is the narrator’s local figure, not a general demographic estimate.
[26] That is, after the armistice ending Ottoman participation in the First World War in 1918.
