Every step crafts a path into the unknown.
A short comparative look at two travel accounts: The Road to Mecca by Muhammad Asad (1900–1992) and Desert Encounter by Knud Valdemar Gylding Holmboe (1902–1931).
The modern interaction between the West and the East began when Napoleon Bonaparte (1769–1821) invaded Egypt in 1798. This invasion opened the doors for other European nations to explore the East. Within a few decades, the Islamic world—except for a few areas—fell under European control. The Europeans had rediscovered the East after having previously been expelled by the great Muslim leader Salah al-Din al-Ayyubi (1137–1193). The East has often been perceived as something exotic, and, as Professor Mohammad Marandi from the University of Tehran describes it, “vague and mysterious.” Orientalist scholars fueled the imaginations of many passionate and ambitious young European men through their writings, art, and popular narratives about the East. As a result, traveling to the East once became fashionable.
The Road to Mecca by Muhammad Asad (1900–1992) and Desert Encounter by Knud Valdemar Gylding Holmboe (1902–1931) are the works of two such passionate and ambitious young Europeans who traveled across the Muslim world. Both men, converts to Islam as well as established authors, documented their journeys in detail, describing the people, landscapes, and political atmospheres they encountered. Asad’s journey began as that of a discontented young Jewish man seeking to escape from the world he knew into one unknown—a world that, in some sense, represented an unexplored spiritual order. However, this spiritual order, as he describes, was “[…] not easy to explain in so many words […].” He was deeply dissatisfied with what his environment and civilization had to offer. His religious tradition played a role—though not directly—in pushing him away from his homeland. He notes, “Despite all this budding religious wisdom, or maybe because of it, I soon developed a supercilious feeling toward many of the premises of Jewish faith.”
His initial disdain for Jewish beliefs was eventually replaced by a newfound spiritual order, which took shape in the form of Islam—something he repeatedly acknowledges throughout his book.In contrast, Holmboe’s journey was carefully planned and had a clear objective. He had already converted to Islam before embarking on his journey to Africa, having embraced the faith after visiting the Balkans. As he describes, Holmboe had a precise goal: to become “the first man in the world to have driven through Africa from east to west. [Due to him being] interested in the Arabs’ culture and way of thinking.”
Both journeys traversed the same landscapes, encountered the same people, and engaged with the same cultures. However, they differed significantly in purpose, scope, and worldview. Asad’s journey was more spontaneous and adventurous, largely because he did not have a clear vision of his destination or even his own worldview. His travels were dictated by chance events that shaped his path. Unlike Holmboe, Asad embarked on his journey without any prior knowledge of the language or the people. However, he quickly familiarized himself with their traditions and language, and they eventually became his brethren in faith. When describing the poor Muslims of Palestine, his admiration is evident as he states, “I cannot but admire the nobility and ease of their bearing and their inner quiet […],” adding that his journey was not “a deliberate search for faith […] rather faith came upon [him].”
Conversely, Holmboe’s journey was carefully mapped out, though not in terms of his exact route. He had planned the idea of traveling across a continent, was well-versed in Islam, and already understood the language of the Muslims. Unlike Asad, his journey lacked an element of mystery—he knew exactly what he sought and controlled the course of his travels. His advanced knowledge of the people and their traditions also helped him avoid many dangers along the way.
Both journeys occurred against the backdrop of political unrest and colonialism in the Middle East. Holmboe’s travels spanned only one year (1930–1931), whereas Asad’s journey, which began in 1920, extended over a much longer period and ended in the same year as Holmboe’s. There are three primary reasons why Asad’s travels lasted significantly longer. Firstly, his journey was unplanned, whereas Holmboe’s was carefully structured. Secondly, Asad traveled through multiple countries, whereas Holmboe’s route was relatively short and covered only major cities in three nations. Lastly, Asad became deeply involved in the customs, traditions, and political affairs of the regions he visited, whereas Holmboe made a conscious effort to remain detached from local politics. It is fair to say that Asad was lost in the vastness of the desert, whereas Holmboe’s experience was more structured and confined.
It appears that Asad shared the same dreams and traditions as many Muslims of his time, as well as their reverence for Islamic history. This is evident in his relationships, particularly with the Indo-Pakistani poet Allama Iqbal (1877–1938), and later in his role as Pakistan’s representative to the United Nations. As he recalls, “I was serving, but when my activities at the United Nations made it obvious that I identified myself not merely functionally but also emotionally and intellectually with the political and cultural aims of the Muslim world.”Asad’s journey had a strong political dimension, and he was outspoken in his support for Muslim causes. For instance, in his conversations with Dr. Chaim Weizmann, a prominent Zionist leader, he passionately and logically defended the Muslim position. Holmboe, on the other hand, remained reserved and rarely expressed his political views. He was more of a passive observer.
It becomes evident that Holmboe deliberately distanced himself from political engagement, focusing instead on executing his travel plans. Although he displayed sympathy toward the native populations, this sentiment stemmed from a purely humanistic philosophy. Nowhere in his book does he indicate any sense of allegiance to a global Islamic identity. His humanistic perspective is encapsulated in the closing passage of his book, where he states, “They [the East and the West] are two branches of the same tree. And when a man, regardless of whence he comes, seeks deep in his heart, he will feel the longing for the root of the tree.” While his perspective on a shared human lineage is correct, it overlooks the fundamental concept of Islamic brotherhood, which is deeply rooted in religious teachings. Throughout the book, Holmboe fails to recognize that the faith to which he belongs demands a sense of dedication and commitment to his fellow Muslims and their political struggles—something that transcends mere humanistic philosophy.
In many ways, Holmboe’s travels serve as a historical record of the political and social oppression of an entire nation. His book functions as an eyewitness account of events, offering a window into the atrocities committed by the Italians. Interestingly, the latter portion of the book reads more like a report than a traditional travelogue, despite being narrated in a travelogue style. Although Holmboe began his journey with a clear plan, he seems to lose this direction toward the end, as circumstances force him to adapt. Conversely, Asad gradually gained a clearer understanding of his journey’s purpose. Like Holmboe, Asad did not reach this realization deliberately; rather, events shaped his understanding. Holmboe’s book is mature, serious, and to the point, while Asad’s work is romantic, more akin to folklore, and less rigid in its structure.
