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A slightly irreverent look at the Hadj
by Irfan Yusuf
If
The biggest
numbers are at the time of Hadj, the sacred pilgrimage all able-bodied Muslims
who can afford it are expected to make at least once in their lifetime. This
year, over 2.5 million people are expected to converge on this ancient city for
this annual assembly of monotheism.
The pilgrims
from just about every part of the planet. Despite the enormous cultural,
linguistic and sectarian differences amongst Muslims, there is a surprising
degree of consensus when it comes to the rituals of the Hadj. These ancient
rites date back 1,400 years and are based on an even older story.
Some people in
Australia talk about
“Judeo-Christian” values, as if they haven’t quite figured out that there are at
least 3 monotheistic faiths that emerged from the Middle
East . And that’s not including all the other monotheistic faiths
(such as Sikhism).
Really, what
we should be talking about are “Abrahamic” values. The triplet faiths of Islam,
Christianity and Judaism all respect and honour Abraham, an Iraqi chap regarded
by all three traditions as the father of ethical monotheism.
According to
Islamic tradition, Ibrahim (Abraham) married an Egyptian woman named Hajira
(Hagar) who bore him a son named Ismail (Ishmael). He also took a second wife
Sarah (pronounced slightly differently in Biblical English) who bore him a
second son Ishaq (Isaac).
For some
domestic reasons, Ibrahim feels the need to leave his first wife in a desert
valley named “Bakkah” with the baby Ismail. Like all mothers, the primary
concern of Hajira is the survival of her toddler. But where will she find water
in this wilderness?
She heads for
a hill, finds nothing and so heads in the opposite direction to another hill.
She again finds nothing. In desperation, she runs back and forth around 7 times
before setting eyes on her young boy kicking the ground to uncover a spring.
Quickly she builds a make-shift well.
Within a short
period, the well attracts the attention of other travellers through this area.
Hajira watches her son become a grown man, and receives a visit from Ibrahim
again. Ibrahim and Ismail are ordered to build a temple in honour of the one
true invisible God. The temple was a simple cubic structure, in the direction of
which people would pray.
The
valley of Bakkah eventually became known as Mecca
The elders
teach that the reward for a successful Hadj is nothing less than forgiveness of
all sins and paradise. In many Muslim cultures, this means people tend to leave
performing Hadj to the end of their life. In the Indian sub-Continent, where my
parents come from, people tend to perform Hadj after their kids have grown up,
married and left home. Many cynics recite an old Hindi/Urdu phrase which can be
roughly translated as: “After eating several thousand mice, the fat cat finally
decides to head off for Hadj!”
In places
closer to our shores, people tend to go much earlier. In Malaysia
(And for
anyone who believes the neo-Con fictions about Islam, the deal doesn’t even
include the fictitious 72 heavenly virgins!)
So what on
earth does all this have to do with Australia Australia
(Anyone who
has had to deal with Saudi officials at Jeddah airport will know why forgiveness
of one’s sins is furnished so readily.)
In Australia
Then there are
the different nationalities and their interesting idiosyncrasies. Yes, Muslims
can be politically incorrect.
In Mecca
Why? Because
in many parts of the Indian sub-Continent, people chew a special blend of nuts
and paste wrapped in betel leaf known as “paan”. When they have finished chewing
on the stuff, it tends to be spat out into gutters or even against walls,
leaving a nasty and distinct reddish-brown stain.
Turks travel
in large groups and always stay with their group wherever they travel. They are
extremely fussy about cleanliness. In one part of the Hadj, all pilgrims stay in
tents on a plain called Mina for the night. The place becomes tent city for the
night, with a range of facilities including toilets and kitchens. You know you
are in the Turkish section because even the tents are sparkling and shiny-new.
The sand looks like someone has sprayed and rubbed Mr Sheen into it. And the
toilets are spotless to the extent you could make a sandwich on their
floors.
Cronulla
readers will be pleased to note that according to a reliable source (my mum),
Lebanese pilgrims basically spend most of their Hadj sitting around cracking
jokes and drinking coffee strong enough to keep you awake until the next
Hadj.
Nigerians are
tall and heavy-set. A major part of the pilgrimage is to circle the cubic temple
seven times in an anti-clockwise direction, all the while shouting “Labayk!
Allah humma Labbayk!” (which is roughly translated as: “I’m here, my Lord, I’m
here!”). It is a good idea not to slip as there are generally hundreds of
thousands of people behind you ready to trample you to death. Nigerian pilgrims
tend to be taller and stronger than anyone else. And when you see a group of
them with arms clasped rushing toward you screaming the prayer, it’s scarier
than seeing 500 All-Blacks doing the Haka and poking their tongues
out.
I have no idea
what Kiwi pilgrims are like. I doubt they scream the Haka at any stage of the
rituals.
In fact, I
don’t even know what Australian pilgrims are like. Why? Because I’ve never been
myself. But my mum’s been at least twice. And I have lots of friends who have
been. They all tell me the same story.
(OK, I’ll
admit mum does exaggerate a little.)
Despite the
weird and wonderful characteristics of the various cultural groups at the Hadj,
everyone dresses the same. Blokes wear a white-coloured two-piece towel thing,
and ladies wear some additional stuff which is also white coloured. If you
landed in Mecca
Yep, Mecca is a little different to Byron Bay
So that’s the end of my slightly irreverent look
at Hadj. For more information, go to your local mosque and convert. Then get on
the first plane you can to Mecca, and you might arrive in time for the
last rites.
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72 heavenly virgins
Maybe Irfan is not aware of some aspects of Islam or maybe he is being dishonest but Webdiary should really challenge this stuff since it is so widely documented on some of the Islamists own websites, for example Hamas who are widely regarded in the Muslim world even though some countries in the West consider them to be a terrorist organisation.
Malcolm X
No civilization lasts forever
Diary of the Hajj / Hadj
As millions of pilgrims stream into Saudi Arabia for the Hadj /Hajj, the BBC's Rabiya Parekh is writing a diary for the BBC News website. It is immediately obvious that it becomes too difficult to write about and participate in the sacred pilgrimage at the same time. Rabiya Parekh's diary at presents ends on Thursday
The site includes a place for Hadji to share their experiences and the material here is well worth reading. Almost all the actual Hadji writing of their experience describe it as life changing. They write of how they see the essential equality of the individual participants and how they feel affirmed in being swept up in the great flow of the faithful - one of many at one with the many.
Nobel prize winner Elias Canetti, in Crowds and Power, describes the sacred pilgrimage to Mecca as a "slow crowd, formed gradually by tributaries from the many different countries". For a Muslim, writes Canetti, "Anyone who has not been on this pilgrimage has not really lived." Sounds like an travel advertisement doesn't it.
I'd love to hear more about the nitty gritty of the experience, especially as it is lived by a Muslim traveling back from the West to that point where the Faith originated and the millions of faithful have gathered. What's it like to walk through airport security scanned by suspicious eyes, board a flight that must carry many with the same purpose to their journey as yourself and then clear airport security at the other end, entering a land where you aren't viewed with distrust? And then I'd like to know about the various paths pilgrims take, the long personal journeys of spartan comfort for some and the package tours with air-conditioned tents for others.
Most of all I want to know whether this feeling within the flow of the faithful, the feeling of being an equal amongst all, is based on what is actually experienced or what is perceived by those predisposed to feel it. So , for example, is there actually a situation something like what I might experience going down to a crowed beach -- where everyone seems a little overprotective of the patch they've claimed and you sense the falseness of some smiles -- or does the feeling within the hajj reflect the actuality accurately with people genuinely engaging with each other as equals.
Unlikely to ever convert to Islam, and knowing I'll never pull off a Burton (despite the growth of a healthy post-holiday period beard), I truly hope that through my own journeys this year I'll befriend a Hadji who can describe to me his or her experience in all its rich detail.
Monty Irfan
As I read this piece, the imagery reminded me of scenes from Life of Brian.
Brilliant and many thanks for the chuckles.