In most cultures a new year is a time for festivity. But where some party, Shia Muslims throughout the world are in mourning, reports Khadija Magardie
From the deserts of Afghanistan to the hills of Lebanon and the paved streets of Cape Town, the name Imam Hussein has held strong symbolic significance for Muslims, especially in times of conflict.
And tonight it echoes through Fordsburg, a suburb of Johannesburg. Every night for the last week, a majlis (gathering) has been taking place, and the walls reverberate with the name of the Islamic martyr whose life story still brings tears to the eyes of those who mourn him, even centuries since his death.
The first 10 days of the Muslim new year, Muharram, are the holiest on the Shia calendar and are characterised by prayers, black clothing, tears and matam, a traditional practice of self-flagellation or beating of the chest as a mark of mourning.
Imam Hussein, the grandson of the Prophet Muhammad, together with 70 companions and family members, was martyred on the plains of Karbala, Iraq, in the 7th century. He was en route to join the people of Iraq in an uprising against a self-proclaimed caliph (king) called Yazid, rejected by the faithful as an oppressor and transgressor of Islam’s holy book, the Qur’an. The night of the martyrdom of Imam Hussein, called Ashura, is narrated through various lectures, passion plays and song.
The Shia branch of Islam rejects the line of leaders who ruled the ummah, or community of believers, after the death of the Prophet Muhammad, and believe Muhammad appointed his close friend, Ali, the first man to accept Islam, as his heir and successor. The name Shia has become synonymous with struggle since the Islamic revolution in Iran in 1979, and because of Hizbollah, the predominantly Shia fighters who waged a decades-long war against the Israeli occupation of South Lebanon. The defeat of Israel is the very epitome of Shia Muslim pride worldwide earning them the reputation of Muslim freedom fighters.
The tradition of remembering Ashura, perhaps coupled with longing for all things from home, strongly draws immigrant Shias, particularly, to the majlis. From places as diverse as Iran, Pakistan and Katlehong, Shia turn out in significant numbers in every city where a majlis advertised well beforehand is to be held.
Both men and women perform matam, albeit separately; but the powerful, emotive atmosphere of the gathering is more evident among the men. The perfectly synchronised sound of palms beating the chest is electrifying it is hard to be unmoved, or cynical, when one sees the tears streaming down the cheeks of the worshippers.
To an outsider the funereal atmosphere, accompanied by the ritual displays of mourning, may seem excessive, bizarre even. But the faithful are encouraged to mourn as if it were their own flesh and blood, as a mark of respect, and, most importantly, to keep Hussein’s legacy alive.
“The crying, it must be remembered, has historically been a political act,” says Shia scholar Seyed Abdollah Hoseini, adding that the legacy of Hussein continues to hold contemporary significance because it represents the struggle between good and evil. He says Muslims have always identified with the martydom of Hussein in their collective or individual struggle.
Matam has its origins in Arabia, but has been imported into other Muslim communities. Some beat their chests lightly with their palms, but others resort to more painful tactics, including whipping themselves with chains, cutting their faces. Religious scholars, including the supreme leader of predominantly Shia Iran, have outlawed excessive matam, which has had some success in discouraging worshippers from the practice.
During the majlis, the final hours of Hussein and his followers are recited by speakers, and the crying becomes more intense as the actions of Yazid’s armies are described in detail. One of the most emotional scenes of Ashura involved the death of Hussein’s infant son, Ali Asghar, from an arrow through the throat.
According to history, Hussein, child in arms, had gone to beseech the army surrounding the camp to give the child a drink of water. At this point in the narration, the crying reaches a crescendo some emotionally charged voices break through the sobbing, uttering curses upon the army of Yazid.
Although the original “actors” of Ashura are no longer around, Shia Muslims believe Imam Hussein must be continually remembered because, in their words, there are always new battles to wage.
“The struggle for a just society is far from over that is why we say: Every day is Ashura and every land is Karbala,” says Hoseini.