Beja Scholars and the Creativity of Powerlessness [1]

In this paper, I return to study more systematically the political and cultural resourcefulness of local scholars among the Beja of Sudan, a theme I have briefly and sporadically written about previously. [2] The paper highlights the political praxis of these scholars in which they creatively manipulate cultural and symbolic resources to lobby and persuade national, transnational and international agencies to support their reform projects. The paper, based on research which was funded by the Red Sea Area Project (RESAP), calls upon the project to incorporate Beja scholars in its research and policy. The incorporation conceived by the paper is not that of the subject or target of the project. Rather, it is an incorporation that humbly and seriously considers the myriad and ingenious ways Beja scholars have always empowered themselves in negotiating with the outside world and in diligently working on their environment and with their own people.

RESAP, working in Sudan, is a multi-disciplinary research venture, funded by the Norwegian Ministry of Foreign Afairs, and launched in 1986 by the University of Bergen and the University of Khartoum. The objective of the project is to research the drought-stricken Red Sea area to enhance understanding of its ecological and socioeconomic systems. The research is geared to propose interventions which may secure and improve the natural resource base of the region. [3]

Beja constitute the great majority of the population of the Red Sea area, and among them the Hendendowa groups dominate politically and numerically. Beja are Muslims and Tebdwe is their mother-tongue, but Arabic is widely used. They base their livelihood on animal husbandry, labor migration and some cultivation. Historically speaking, they are the "big black boundin' beggar[s]", Fuzzy Wuzzy of Rudyard Kipling, who broke the famous "British square". Led by their elusive Mahdist Emir Osman Digna, the Beja inflicted a couple of initial defeats on the British troops who were deployed in the Red Sea region to prevent the Mahdist State of the Sudan (1881-1898) from taking Suakin, the strategic Red Sea port.

Dr. Hassan Abdel Ati has rightly questioned the efficacy of the developmental impact of the activities of NGOs in the Red Sea Region as long as they hold to their haughty attitude with respect to local participation. NGOs believe that national and local authorities in the region do not represent the wishes of the Beja. [4] Moreover, they argue that no indigenous structure among the Beja could provide a framework conducive to a participatory relationship with NGOs. [5] As a result, they despise governmental channels and ignore indigenous voluntary work. As typical philanthropists, NGOs feel fulfilled when they deal directly with their target population. [6] Consequently, some urban dwellers and educated elite have publically expressed their apprehension about the political and cultural performance of the NGOs. [7]

A research project of the scope and promise of the Red Sea Area Programme (RESAP) needs to learn from the mistakes of the NGOs by earnestly inviting and accommodating the participation of local Beja scholars. From the interviews I have had with some of the scholars I had the impression that they were left out by RESAP. A local leader complained that they are put in the dark regarding the objectives and operations of the project. Ordinary Beja, whom RESAP researchers interview, turn to their local scholars to ask them about the usefulness of the RESAP research exercise. Unaided by any privileged or even regular information about the project, the local scholars feel embarrassed about their inadequacy in answering questions raised by their people about RESAP.

The situation that RESAP is finding itself in with respect to Beja scholars is typical in ethnographic research. By-passing the researchers in the field (local scholars) to the target "natives" is inherent in fieldwork practice. Local scholars are basically alien to anthropological discourse because of a systemic tendency in that discourse which Johannes Fabian calls "denial of coevalness". This tendency, according to Fabian, places the referents of anthropology in a time other than the present of the producer of anthropological discourse. [8] this walling-in of the time of the other [9] determines the character of anthropological discourse as a "transfer of information" [10] from the other, the "natives", to the anthropologist. A local scholar who aspires for an analytical role similar to that of the anthropologist is bound to be left out.

A local scholar is justified to feel insulted if he is confined to the role of providing information even though he is interested in the same sources of information as the anthropologist. Besides protesting the poor liaison of RESAP, Beja scholars show serious concern about the fate of source material made available to RESAP and other researchers. One Beja scholar was apprehensive about the habit of RESAP researchers of taking files from local government departments to read them at RESAP residences in Sinkat. This scholar wanted to know if researchers would care to return them when they were through with them. Another scholar asked about the possibility of retrieving the minutes of the meetings of the Beja Conference he made available to a Khartoum University researcher studying the ethnic dimension of Sudanese politics. Similarly, a Beja activist wondered if he could retrieve a Hedendowa genealogy he lent to a university professor. Moreover, Adroub A. Adroub, an authority on Beja language and culture, lamented the loss of his manuscript on Beja language which an Egyptian scholar borrowed but failed to return.

In this paper, an argument is made for establishing new liaisons between RESAP and Beja scholars, activists and reformers. The liaisons suggested here have more to them than procedure. For RESAP to be a research praxis (in which received roles of those researching and those being researched are radically reconsidered), it has to appreciate the creative and analytical functions of local scholars. To help bring about this appreciation the paper will highlight the creativity of Beja scholars in manipulating their symbolic and cultural resources to promote Beja political and developmental interests.

Beja scholars are acutely conscious of their people's political predicaments. As early as before the independence of Sudan in 1956 Muhammed Dean al-Bijawi attributed the deprivation of the Beja to their lack of access to national political opportunities. He held the colonial administration, [11] sectarianism, [12] and the non-Beja affendiyya (graduates of government schools) class, [13] responsible for preventing the Beja from participating adequately in national politics and getting their rightful share from such participation. He laid a special emphasis on promoting education among the Beja to give Beja some leverage in national politics and administration. [14] Importantly, he suggested that government should give the Beja quotas in cadet, police and public administration academies to make up for long lost opportunities. [15] For the Beja voice to be heard nationally he called for Beja workers to organize trade unions [16] and the Beja at large to form a pan-Beja union. [17]

The awareness of Beja scholars of the marginality of their people made them develop a unique skill in manipulating their cultural resources to effect their reform projects. The historical and contemporary connections Beja had and have with institutions of power or powerful individuals are adeptly used to convince these institutions and individuals to do something to lift the plight of the Beja. Apparently, the powerless Beja are utilizing their cultural symbols and connections as scaffolds to climb to positions of visibility and power.

The Linguistic Seizure of Khartoum

There is an undeclared linguistic war between several Sudanese ethnic groups for the ownership of Khartoum, the capital city. Each of these warring factions claims that "Khartoum" is a name that is derived from its respective language. In linguistically seizing Khartoum, these groups are establishing claims for being indigenous to the singular place of power in the Sudan.

"Khartoum" has long been taken to be an Arabic word denoting an elephant trunk. It is said that the national capital is named Khartoum because it is the place at which the White and Blue Niles meet and their junction describes an elephant's trunk. The Arab claim to the name of Khartoum has been challenged by the Dinka and the Nubians. Some Dinka scholars maintain that "Khartoum" is a corrupted form of the Dinka word "Kiertoum" which also means the junction of two rivers. [18] In addition, Dinka trace the names of some suburbs of Khartoum such as Buri back to Dinka roots.

A Nubian scholar describes the Dinka claim as a "misconception and pure fantasy". [19] He argues that "Khartoum" is most probably derived from the Nubian language. [20] This derivation is plausible, according to Muhammed I. Abu Salim, because Khartoum lies comfortably within the domain of the historical Upper Nubian Kingdom that had the city of Soba (a suburb of Khartoum) as its capital. [21] Abu Salim has not suggested any specific Nubian etymology for "Khartoum". Hasan Shukri, however, suggests that the name was originally "Agartum" which stands for the abode of Atum, the Egyptian god of creation. Shukri also argues that the name of Tuti, the island adjacent to Khartoum, is a corruption of "thutid", the old Egyptian word which stands for the sacristand of the temple of Thut, the god of wisdom. [22]

The Beja, however, beg to differ with the above mentioned speculations regarding the origin of the word "Khartoum". Adroub A. Adroub, referred to earlier, claims that "Khartoum" is a Beja word. He argues that other Sudanese groups might succeed in deriving "Khartoum" from their respective languages but to verify their claims they have to account for other place names related to Khartoum with reference to their languages. True to his theory Adroub not only suggests a Beja origin for "Khartoum" but also maps the names of several suburbs of Khartoum onto Beja roots. "Khartoum", according to Adroub, is a corruption of "hartooma" which is the Beja word for "meeting". Obviously the noun "meeting" is close enough to "junction" of rivers which is basic to the idea of the name of Khartoum in all the languages we touched upon. To avoid basing his theory on a single name Adroub is presently involved in a research project tracing Khartoum- related names to Beja origins. The table printed on this page shows his findings.

In the context of Beja powerlessness Adroub's theory on the origin of the name of Khartoum, irrespective of its veracity, can be fruitfully analyzed as a bid for power. In giving name to Khartoum and other Khartoum-related locations the Beja present a strong argument for their authenticity. If the name of the seat of power is derived from the Beja language Beja are entitled to a fair share of that power. Just as in magic, you control a force by controlling its name.

Kin by Association

Beja activists believe that the Beja plight may be largely attributed to their gross underrepresentation in national positions of planning and execution. Muhammed Bidri Abu Hadiyya, a veteran Beja activist, maintains that had the Beja been adequately represented in these positions, the Khasm al-Girba Agricultural project could not have been grasped by the Halfa people. The al-Girba project, according to Abu Hadiyya, was originally intended to accommodate the Beja who were continuously displaced by repeated droughts. The Halfawi cadre, who were in a position to know about the project, suggested to the government of the day that the project should be used for the rehabilitation of the Halfawis dislocated by the construction of the High Dam.

This realization of being short of kin in centers of decision made Beja activists extremely creative in co-opting kin from among non-Beja government officials. Beja would approach an official to help out in carrying out any of their reform projects with reference to whatever connection that official has had in Beja territory.

Beja activists cast their net far and wide to fish for these kin by association. Salah Salim, the Minister for Sudan Affairs in the Egyptian Cabinet of the July 1952 Revolution, was asked by Beja activists during his visit to Sinkat in 1955 to open Egyptian schools in the Beja region. The minister agreed and the Egyptian Education Mission in Sudan opened three schools in Port Sudan, Wagar and Sinkat. Salah's lavish spending in pursuing the unity of Sudan and Egypt aside, the Beja activists capitalized in their address to the minister on the fact that he had spent his childhood in Sinkat. Salah's father headed the Sinkat Post and Telegraph Office in the mid-twenties.

Furthermore, the quota for Beja students in Gabiet Technical School was raised from 10% to 15% in the mid-seventies by Bashir Abadi, the Minister of Transportation. The fact that Bashir belongs to the Ababada people, a distant and ancient relative of the Beja, was used by the Beja reformers to negotiate for that raise. Furthermore, a Beja student was admitted to the Police Academy through the good offices of Bukhari, the Police Chief of the seventies. Bukhari was prompted to support the student because the student was recommended by the late Abdel Gadir Ukair, a Beja teacher, whom Bukhari had in his intermediate school years. Moreover, Umar Mahaqar, the Secretary of President Nimeri, was instrumental in admitting Beja students to the Police and Prison academies on an affirmative action basis. The Beja reformers approached Umar to do them this favor since Umar belongs to the Halanga community who are also identified as Beja.

Associated kin are also recruited from among riverain Sudanese officials who happened to have lived, studied, or worked in the Beja homeland. The late Karar Ahmed Karar, the Blue Nile Commissioner in the early seventies, was approached by Beja activists to support the Beja community which was rehabilitated in al-Suki Agricultural Project in the Blue Nile province. Being a former District Commissioner of Aroma, a Beja town, Karar was found ready to reach out and help. Furthermore, Major-General (retired) Bakri al-Mak, the Governor of the Eastern Region in 1989 was approached to help out in executing a Beja reform scheme with reference to the fact that he studied at Port Sudan Secondary School and was trained in Gabiet Military Academy, both institutions lie in the Beja homeland. Moreover, Professor Yusuf Fadl Hasan, the vice-Chancellor of Khartoum University was asked by Beja activists to secure the entrance of a Beja woman to the Faculty of Medicine. The fact that Yusuf had part of his education in Beja schools was cited by Beja activists as a good reason to obligate him to act as a kin with respect to Beja interests.

To make up for the lack of real Beja kin in government decision-making positions, Beja activists have proved to be extremely inventive in stretching the concept of kin to include any occupant of a position of power who is even remotely related to Beja space.

The Fort and the Trees

The site that lies to the southeast of Sinkat at Khor (water-course) Sinkat is unique not only in the historical relics so intricately overlayered across it but also in the manner Beja scholars have used these relics to signify their cultural symbols in pursuing their reforms.

The oldest and most basic structure in this site is Sinkat Fort, the remains of which now form a kind of embankment. The fort was built by Tawfik, the Governor of Suakin during the Turco-Egyptian period to defend Sinkat against the Beja Mahdist insurgents led by Osman Digna. Tawfik came to Sinkat from Suakin on August 2nd 1883 with 100 men to reinforce the garrison. He improved the fortifications of the town and was able to defeat the Mahdi's Ansar (followers) when they attacked the fort on the 5th of August 1883 and killed 60 of them. Digna lost a brother in the encounter and was himself wounded. [23] Before Sinkat's second battle, Tawfik again came to the town to fortify it comprehensively. The Ansar did not attack the fort this time. Instead they besieged the garrison. The besieged fort ran out of food and had to "eat mules, donkeys, dogs and cats and to chew up hides and leaves of trees to alleviate the bites of hunger." [24] Seeing the misery of his men, Tawfik ordered them to leave the fort so as to not die of starvation. In the same vein, he ordered them to fight their way to Suakin and not bring shame to themselves by surrendering to the Ansar. On leaving the fort the Turkish troops were attacked by the Ansar who killed them except for some women and the qadi of Sinkat. [25]

The martyrs' memorial to the right of the fort rubble was built in the mid-seventies to honor the memory of those Beja Ansar killed in Sinkat's first battle. Building the memorial was a Beja response to President Nimiri's call to honor national martyrs whose causes of liberation and religious zeal his regime (1969-1985) wanted to identify with. The memorial was erected on the mass grave in which those martyrs were buried. The placard on the memorial identifies the cause, the number and ethnic and regional affiliations of these martyrs, who were led into battle, in the words of the placard, by "the Emir of Emirs, Osman Abu Bakr Digna."

The tree of King George V, which no longer exists on the site for reasons that will become clear, was planted by the monarch on the fort rubble on the occasion of his visit to Sinkat on the 17th of January 1912. The schedule and the report on the visit mention his stop at the fort but are silent on the planting of the tree. However, the placard that was on the enclosure of the tree stated that the tree was planted by his Majesty on that occasion.

The visit of King George V took place 12 years after the signing of the Condominium Agreement (1899) that laid the basis of the Anglo-Egyptian administration of the Sudan for 56 years. Importantly, the Governor-General of the Sudan at his Majesty's visit was Kitchener, the conqueror of Khartoum. Consequently, the visit was used by the Kitchener administration to compare and contrast the Dervish misrule to the opulence and prosperity of the Sudan under his administration. [26] Hence, Kitchener utilized the visit to pay homage to those persons who made this just rule possible. In his Majesty's reply to the address that welcomed him at Port Sudan he paid tribute to "the sacrifices of British and Egyptian lives which have been necessary to bring about the present peaceful and prosperous state of the country." [27] Gordon of Khartoum and Tawfik of Suakin were mentioned by name in his Majesty's speech. Tawfik was praised by his Majesty for "the stubborn resistance at Sinkat ... against overwhelming odds." [28]

In Sinkat his Majesty reviewed a parade of detachments of the British, Egyptian and Sudanese armies. The parade was followed by "a very interesting part of display." [29] 3,000 native Arab horsemen and camel men representing about twenty tribes of Eastern Sudan galloped past "giving a weird conclusion to this interesting parade." [30] The last event of the Royal visit to Sinkat was a trip to the old fort "made illustrious by the hero of Sinkat, that is, Tawfik". [31]

The neem trees to the right of the site were planted after the October Revolution of 1964. The people of Sinkat petitioned the Sovereignty Council members, who were spending their summer vacation in Erkowitsummer resort, to remove the enclosure surrounding his Majesty's tree and to take off the placard on it. Stimulated by the patriotic feelings generated by the revolution, Sinkat inhabitants were affronted by the preservation of this symbol of colonialism. As a result the local authorities in Sinkat were instructed by the Sovereignty Council to act in accordance of the wishes of the people. The placard as well as the enclosure were thus removed and the royal tree was left to the uncertain fate of the species. It survived till 1983 but finally collapsed under the severe conditions of the drought of that year.

Osman Digna's Elementary School was built on the site in 1987. The school was originally called "The Northern School" and was housed in a building in the vicinity of Sinkat Suq (market) to the north of its present location. The building was old and started to fall apart. The school board, therefore, decided to initiate a self-help project to build a new school in this historical site. Some Beja activists did not like the school board's decision because they wanted the site to be preserved as a historical symbol. When the school foundation was dug out, people found bayonets and empty bullets. Again in 1989, when a sewer was dug out right across the fort debris to drain flood water, people followed the bulldozer hoping to find some of the gold hidden by fort occupants. The bulldozer driver, according to my informant, deepened his scoop in the debris to the satisfaction of the people who were enwrapped in a mini-"gold rush".

The dimming out and lighting up of the symbols of the historical fort unravel the existential dilemmas of the Beja. These dilemmas are borne out by the proposal of Muhammed Abu Hadiyya for Khartoum University to hold a conference to discuss the tragedy of the Beja and their possible extinction under the severe droughts they have been and will be exposed to. In other words, Beja existentially feel that they are doomed if left to hazardous nature unenlightened by culture. This nature-culture opposition threads through the stage lightening scheme of the historical fort.

The Beja Ansar, the embodiment of Islam as the culture, besieged the fort of the Turk unbelievers (unbelieving belongs to the realm of nature for being an uneducated state of existence). In resorting to eat raw roots and unsanctioned meat to soothe their hunger, the unbelievers were made to correspond to their state of being as creatures of nature. The victory of the Ansar over Tawfik caused the fort (culture) of the unbelievers to turn into a debris, that is, decomposing into its constituent elements of dust and rocks.

In contrast, the royal visit to the fort in 1912 presented the colonial administration as culture for being just to the Sudanese whereas Mahdist rule was viewed as crude nature. Planting the royal tree in the fort rubble is intended to restore the fort, the bastion against the savage Ansar, to culture after belonging to nature for more than a quarter of a century. Furthermore, the Beja warrior traditions were festively "folklorized" during the Royal visit in relation to the parade in which active British, Egyptian and Sudanese troops were reviewed by his Majesty. The Beja warriors, who just twenty-five years ago herocially broke the British square, as noted earlier, were relegated to a display role described as "giving a weird conclusion" to an interesting parade.

The light managers of this historical stage during the 1964 revolution reversed the symbolic process set in motion by the royal visit. Motivated by noble patriotic feelings (culture), Sinkat people succeeded in driving the royal tree back into the wilderness, that is, to nature. The removal of the placard and the enclosure from around the royal tree deprived the tree of a name (culture) and made it go unidentified. The neem tree planted by the local authorities was meant to crown the restoration of national symbols to culture by a token from nature. Similarly, the memorial gave the mass grave a name and an aura of sanctity, restoring it from ritual anonymity.

Myth, according to Levi-Strauss, has a mind of its own. He states that myth thinks through us to counter-argue with those who believe that people think through myth. I was reminded of Levi-Strauss' view when I saw the cows' enclosure constructed right on this historical site and people lining up to buy milk. The existence of this milk suq (marketplace), I reflected, could not have happened by chance. For milk is too powerful a Beja metaphor to take its existence in this debris of symbol lightly. To the Beja, milk is culture as well as nature. Evidently, milk is natural food to the Beja. But with a view to the Beja taboos on its milking and drinking, it is also culture. When I got so far in my structural analysis I started to ask myself if milk, as both nature and culture, is not introduced in this context to mediate the opposition of culture and nature that is wrecking this historical site and the life of the Beja too.

At another level of analysis, the uses made by Beja activists of some of the symbols in this historical stage reflect the Beja strategy of recruiting real and improvised kinship relations with centers of power to make up for their own powerlessness. The memory of the Royal tree, for example, was revived in this context. The plight of the Beja under repeated droughts inspired Muhammed Bidri Abu Hadiyya to write a letter to the Queen of England in the mid-1980s, to support a "tree-day" in Beja land to combat desertification. The letter suggests that this day should coincide with the visit of her grandfather, King George V. The Royal tree is perceived by Abu Hadiyya as a symbolic message of the importance of vegetation for a coherent environment. Unfortunately, the letter goes on to say, that his Majesty's message "was either not read or the content not understood." [32] The British Embassy wrote to Abu Hadiyya to express interest in his suggestion.

In naming the school after Osman Digna and building the martyrs' memorial, Beja activists were adhering closely to their strategy of scaffolding their way out from periphery to center. Digna's name for the Beja has come to stand for a considerable contribution to Mahdism which is widely believed to be our first exercise in nation-building by the Sudanese. The national official recognition of Digna took place in the sixties when his mortal remains were carried to Erkowit in the Beja territory because the rising High Dam waters would inundate Wadi Halfa where he had first been buried. Besides this symbolic scaffolding, Beja activists might have named the school after Digna because of the sense of power and fulfillment they experienced building the school through self-help.

The identification of Beja with Digna is so prevalent that institutions of national power apparently gloss the Beja as Digna. In 1969, a famine year in Beja homeland, the government rehabilitated more than 300 Beja families in the al-Suki scheme, as mentioned earlier. The name given to the Beja village in the scheme was "Digna".

Conclusions

RESAP is an ideal research project in view of its regional and ethnic focus, interdisciplinary nature, prestigious international linkages and generosity of funding that has made research possible for both mature and young scholars. Sudanese scholarship has not been involved in a project of such dimensions since the Wadi Halfa project conducted by the Sudan Research Unit in the late sixties to study the rehabilitation of Nubians in the al-Girba scheme after their lands were innudated by the High Dam waters.

To achieve its goals of faithfully depicting Beja realities, RESAP has to associate meaningfully with local scholars. This association will make RESAP avoid studying the Beja from a "distance", that is, from a position which denies coevalness to the object of inquiry. [33] Studying the Beja from a distance turns RESAP into an authoritarian discourse, adding to the already existing ones which are responsible for Beja misery. RESAP has to share time with local scholars for it to become a communicative praxis qualified to yield new knowledge about Beja culture.

For the purpose of commencing this dialogue, this paper has highlighted the creative strategies of Beja scholars and activists for gaining power and overcoming their political predicaments. RESAP is advised to appreciate, support and enhance these strategies.

1. An earlier version of this paper was presented to the annual Red Sea Area Research Project held at Sinkat in Eastern Sudan.

2. Abdullahi Ali Ibrahim, "The Chrismal and Community of Ali Bitny", Uns al-Kutub, (Khartoum, 1984), pp. 95-99; "Culture in Eastern Sudan", Abir al-Amkinah, (Khartoum, 1988), pp. 31-35.

3. For more details, see Centre for Development Studies, Biennial Report, (Norway: University of Bergen, 1990-91).

4. Hassan Abdel Ati, "The Developmental Impact of NGOs in the Red Sea Province, Sudan", paper presented to the Annual Red Sea Area Program (RESAP) Workshop, Khartoum, March 20-22, 1990, p. 16.

5. Ati, "Developmental Impact", p. 18.

6. Ati, "Developmental Impact", p. 7.

7. Ati, "Developmental Impact", p. 2.

8. Johannes Fabian, Time and the Other, (New York: Columbia University Press, 1983), p. 31.

9. Fabian, Time, p. 51.

10. Fabian, Time, p. 31.

11. Muhammed Dean al-Bijawi, Kifa al-Bija, (Khartoum, 1953), pp. 44-45.

12. al-Bijawi, Kifah al-Bija, p. 33.

13. al-Bijawi, Kifah al-Bija, p.42.

14. al-Bijawi, Kifah al-Bija, p. 68.

15. al-Bijawi, Kifah al-Bija, p. 68.

16. al-Bijawi, Kifah al-Bija, p. 59.

17. al-Bijawi, Kifah al-Bija, p. 63.

18. Muhammed Ibrahim Abu Salim, Tarikh al-Khartoum, (Khartoum, 1971), p. 6.

19. Abu Salim, Tarikh, p. 7.

20. Abu Salim, Tarikh, p.9.

21. Abu Salim, Tarikh, pp. 7-8.

22. Hasan Shukri, "Khartoum and Tuti 'Shreen Munz Qarnan", Khartoum, 1:11, August 1966, p. 23.

23. Naom Shuqair, Tarikh wa Juqrafiat al-Sudan, (Beirut 1967), p. 748.

24. Shuqair, Tarikh was Juqrafiat, p. 753.

25. Shuqair, Tarikh wa Juqrafiat, p. 754.

26. The Sudan, January 18, 1912.

27. Intelligence 2/14/122.

28. Intelligence 2/14/122.

29. The Sudan, January 18, 1912.

30. The Sudan, January 18, 1912.

31. The Sudan, January 18, 1912.

32. Muhammed Bidri Abu Hadiyya to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II, undated.

33. Fabian, Time, p. 72.

passages | http://quod.lib.umich.edu/p/passages/