Reporting from the scene of the grisly murders of 22 members of the same Upper Egyptian family, Jailan Halawi discovers that this particular vendetta looks likely to produce only more and more death Click to view caption Walking through the narrow, unpaved alleyways of Beit Allam, a village 400 kilometres south of Cairo in the district of Gerga, Sohag governorate, it seems clear that life here will never be the same again. On Saturday 10 August, in broad daylight, more than a dozen gunmen ambushed two vehicles, murdering 22 members of the same family -- including a nine-year-old child -- in cold blood. The surprise attack was allegedly orchestrated by members of the Abdel- Halim family, their target a rival clan called El-Hanashat. The two families comprise the majority of the population of Beit Allam, although there are more El-Hanashats than Abdel- Halims. The blood feud between the two families began in 1990, sparked by a fight between children that ended with the murder of two members of El-Hanashat at the hands of the rival clan. Over a decade later, in April of this year, El-Hanashat reportedly got their revenge, killing a man named Hammam Abdel-Halim and injuring his son. That murder brought the tension between the two families back into the open again. Helmi Ahmed and Mahmoud El- Samman, both members of El-Hanashat, were accused of the crime, arrested and referred to court. In fact, the victims of Saturday's massacre were on their way from the village to the provincial capital, Sohag, to attend Ahmed and El-Samman's court hearing. Riding in a microbus and a taxi, they suddenly found the road blocked by gunmen, allegedly members of the Abdel- Halim family, who had been hiding in the corn fields, waiting for the vehicles to approach. As soon as they saw the El- Hanashat convoy approach, the gunmen surfaced from their hideout and blocked the road, showering the vehicles with machine-gun fire. Only three of the passengers, who took shelter under the seats and suffered injuries, came out of the attack alive. The assailants fled the scene of the crime into the nearby hills and corn fields, leaving the victims' corpses and the blood- bath behind. Security forces, reinforced with armoured cars, were quickly deployed in hot pursuit of the perpetrators. The village was combed and all routes leading to neighbouring governorates were sealed off by police to prevent the assailants escaping to other parts of the country. As the Weekly went to press, four members of the Abdel-Halim family had been arrested and two of the firearms used in the massacre recovered by police. Security forces continue to search for the rest of the killers. Sources told Al-Ahram Weekly that the dragnet would continue until all the perpetrators were arrested, including those who worked behind-the-scene to abet and assist in the crime. Called "Al-Tar", the vendetta is deeply rooted in southern Egyptian tradition, with some feuds -- often linked to disputes over money and land -- lasting for more than half a century. Vendettas are fairly frequent in Upper Egypt, but Saturday's massacre was the bloodiest since 1995, when 24 people were killed with gunfire and knives in a clash between two families outside a mosque in Al-Minya. In March 1998, a man involved in that 1995 vendetta, ended up killing seven people and injuring nine others from the rival family. In the narrow alleys of Beit Allam there is palpable tension in the air. Most of the men are tightly holding onto their nabboot, the long wooden stick used as a weapon in the south. The children, meanwhile, look perplexed, their future predestined -- to become either potential murderers seeking revenge or targets of a counter-attack. "Al-Tar Wala Al-'Aar," (Vendetta is better than disgrace) was the first thing Abu Zeid Abu Henish, one of the leaders of El- Hanashat, told the Weekly, echoing a common southern saying. Although he appeared composed, Henish was clearly full of rage. "This is an act of betrayal and cowardliness," he said. "It crossed the norms of feuding, which says 'an eye for an eye'... They breached our agreement and broke the oath." According to villagers, most conflicts between the two families had been "limited" in scale, and the events of Saturday morning "took everyone by surprise". Actually, since the April killing, 25 security operations have taken place in the village in an attempt to weed out the unlicensed firearms in the possession of both families. As a result, some 40 illegal weapons, mostly automatic rifles, had been confiscated. The possession of firearms, including automatic rifles, is widespread in Upper Egypt, and according to villagers, no matter how many weapons are confiscated there is always a way to buy more. Villagers often bury their weapons in the sugar cane and corn fields. Ever since April, the security bodies have also been arranging reconciliation meetings between the two sides, get- togethers which have included community leaders and municipal officials. One of these meetings took place soon after the April murder; at that point, the two families vowed to drop the vendetta between them. A second, more elaborate gathering took place on 5 May, wherein the two families once again announced that bygones were bygones. As a result, a reconciliation agreement was signed on 6 May. "All these overtures did not augur that the clash would reignite, let alone that such a massacre would take place," said a member of the El-Hanashat family. Believing that the reconciliation agreement would be respected, the victims of Saturday's attack were unarmed. Complicating matters in the aftermath of the tragedy is the fact that 13 women from the Abdel-Halim family are married to men from El-Hanashat. In fact, a resident of Beit Allam said that the defendant accused of killing Hammam Abdel-Halim back in April used to call the victim "uncle". As for the 13 Abdel- Halim wives, most El- Hanashat men spoken to by the Weekly said they had already decided that these women should be divorced and sent back to their families. "I cannot stand looking in the face of a woman whose brother, father or uncle killed our family's best men," one of them said. "We will never forget our feud no matter how many years go by," he continued. "We've waited 11 years before, and we will do the same now. No matter what sacrifices it takes, we are determined to kill as many of them (Abdel- Halims) as were murdered by them. Even if they have an army of men, we will still finish them off," he said. For now, there was not a trace of anyone from the Abdel-Halim family -- according to villagers, the killers had moved their families to neighbouring villages prior to the attack. Asked by the Weekly why the sudden migration had not made them suspicious, a member of the El-Hanashat family said that they never expected the other clan to break the reconciliation agreement. Traditionally, upper Egyptians will only kill their rivals in defense of honour, pride or land. According to members of El-Hanashat, the Saturday attack was an assault on both their honour and pride. Vendetta rules stipulate that the family of those fallen in a vendetta killing will not accept condolences or observe mourning for their dead until their honour is "cleansed" with the blood of the rival clan. A murderer can sometimes be pardoned, but only if he crosses the village barefoot, carrying a shroud (his own -- symbolising his willingness to be killed for what he has done), and kneeling at the feet of the leader of the rival clan to beg for forgiveness. If the latter accepts his offer, a sacrificial animal is killed in his stead, and the repentant killer is banished for ever from the village. On occasion, however, he might be killed by his own family, for having dishonoured them.
