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THINKING ALOUD: Ostentatious piety —Razi Azmi

Islam as practised today is all about rituals surrounded by pomp and publicity and has little to do with humanity, compassion and humility. Ritualism has replaced spirituality and form has displaced substance in the lives of Muslims

Anyone who has lived long enough to be able to contrast the post-Zia ‘Islamified’ Islamic Republic of Pakistan with its pre-Zia predecessor, a normal country inhabited by Muslims, or anyone who is sufficiently travelled to be in a position to compare today’s Pakistan with other countries (including most Muslim countries) cannot but notice that the public display of piety in this country has reached gargantuan — if not comical — proportions.

Indeed, piety in Pakistan has acquired a touch of abnormality about it. It has moved from the realm of the spiritual to that of drama and visual art. The increasing and unusually high ratio of burqa-wearing women and bearded men in the population represents only a part of that transformation.

Recently I had the experience of travelling by train from Karachi to Islamabad, on the much publicised and supposedly modern ‘Burraq Express’, the name itself being symptomatic of the times. More often than not, there was no water in the compartments, for no sooner was the overhead tank filled with water than it was consumed in a frenzy of ablution (wazu) by the pious preparing themselves for prayer.

As long as there was water flowing from the tap, one could see the namazis emerging from the toilet dripping with water, from their elbows, fingertips, beards (or chins) and ankles. As a result, rarely was there water for brushing one’s teeth, or, what was worse, even to keep one’s ‘underpinnings’ clean, to borrow a word from Ejaz Haider. Bottled mineral water, always available at a cost, had to be used to wash our behinds. Who says Pakistan is a poor country!

Common sense tells me that a train’s water tank is just big enough to cater for the basic toilet needs of passengers. As presently designed, it does not take into account the ablution needs of a large number of namazis. Therefore, either the government of the pious should order especially large water tanks or have some kind of fatwa issued exempting passengers from the need to use water for ablution.

Islam does allow for ablution without water, but only when it is not available. A fatwa should clarify the matter further, specifically mentioning train journeys, for the minds of the pious are not tuned to understand nuances, to use deductive or inductive logic or be innovative. For them, matters must be made plain in black and white, so to speak, by a fatwa-wielding mullah. And even that may not be enough.

On another occasion, I heard a relative saying to another that he always offered his night (isha) prayers in a particular mosque in Karachi quite far from his home. When I asked him the reason, he said he liked that particular imam, for he always said good or nice things (achhi baatain), which is why he was going there almost continuously for over a year. Another person present duly confirmed the truth of the statement about the imam.

When I asked him if he could give me one example of an ‘achhi baat’ which he had learned directly from the imam and had not known already from his knowledge of Islam or could not have deduced using common sense, he couldn’t give me any. Despite my clarification that I was not being facetious but would be pleased to be enlightened, I was met with a befuddled smile and silence. Later, someone told me that, achhi baatain notwithstanding, many admirers of the imam had become jihadists.

Watching the wonderful television documentaries on animals, I have often thought if a ‘good Muslim’ of the type now ubiquitous and dominant can ever create one such himself. (The Taliban-types, of course, are opposed to documentaries and images anyway.) Making any good documentary, particularly one on animals, takes not only commitment and dedication, but invariably requires shooting on location for hours on end. And it may go on for not just weeks and months, but sometimes years. In other words, it is a 24/7 job, literally. Taking a break for prayer, as today’s ‘good Muslims’ must do, might mean losing the opportunity for possibly some of the best shots.

That brings me to the subject of ‘prayer breaks’ (“Piously Uncivil”, Daily Times, 7th January). Office hours in Pakistan are rather short, in practice if not in theory. Government offices practically don’t become functional until 9:30 or 10:00 and close for business about 2:30 or so. This five-hour working day is further reduced by an extended ‘prayer break’ or waqfa barae namaz. During this break, the pious pray, others socialise or just loaf around. Not surprisingly, some clients who are inconvenienced or not served at all, ironically, refer to this break as namaz barae waqfa.

I am told of instances when groups of holies have commenced congregational prayer (ba-jama’at namaz) in the aisles of planes as they prepare for landing. In some cases, even cabin crew have made themselves incommunicado from passengers by drawing curtains with the notice ‘prayer break’.

Then there is the increasing trend of multiple umra and hajj, sometimes at official expense. Islam enjoins upon believers but one hajj, contingent upon the person’s financial ability. Now it is fashionable to perform hajj repeatedly and boast about it. Although hajj at public expense has neither religious nor moral sanction, governments use it to reward friends and bribe opponents.

Returning hajis are received at airports and railway stations by throngs of relatives and friends as if they have just rendered some great community or social service or achieved something to make the nation proud. Indeed, their reception resembles that of baaraat seen at weddings, complete with garlands and all, and causes great inconvenience to other arriving passengers.

The hajj ought to be a deeply personal undertaking, leading to humility, introspection and reflection. Instead, it attracts massive publicity, congratulatory messages and invitations to dinner. Few of these hajis ever show any generosity of spirit when it comes to helping the poor and needy even in their own neighbourhoods, let alone around the country and the world. In most cases, the only lasting result of hajj is a flowing beard. One of my relatives, a fine man, refuses to be photographed since returning from the hajj. No matter that the hajj itself is telecast live.

Morality has become synonymous with, and reduced to, a dress code for women, preferably the veil. Human rights, good customer service, politeness in public, adherence to contractual obligations, facilities for the handicapped, public toilets, voluntary work, donations to secular charities and equality before the law are not considered worthy objectives, and are conspicuous by their absence in Muslim countries.

As Irshad Manji laments in her controversial but thought-provoking and extremely readable book, Muslims have divested religion of spirituality to such an extent that the two do not coexist in Muslim societies. It is as if one can only be a Muslim or spiritual but never both at the same time.

Islam as practised today is all about rituals surrounded by pomp and publicity and has little to do with humanity, compassion and humility. Ritualism has replaced spirituality and form has displaced substance in the lives of Muslims, personal as well as collective. Ostentatious piety has become a substitute for social responsibility.

The writer can be contacted at raziazmi@hotmail.com

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