THE GREAT GATE of the Grand Mosque of Mecca
dominates a broad plain lying between the barren, scruffy hills of
western Saudi Arabia. Standing at the center of the mosque's immense courtyard
is the Kaaba,* a crude stone structure draped with an enormous black
cloth intricately embroidered with sayings from the Koran. Here is the
epicenter of the Islamic faith, the point to which all Moslems turn in
prayer five times a day. I never saw the Kaaba. I am Christian and
barred, as are all non-Moslems, from the holy cities of Mecca and
Medina. Only once did I test the prohibition.
I was coaxing my exceedingly reluctant husband as we turned
off the broad new highway between Riyadh and Jeddah and drove toward
Mecca. Immediately billboard-size blue and white signs in both Arabic
and English appeared along the road, warning non-Moslems to turn back.
As we drew closer to Mecca, I saw a mixed group of religious
authorities, dressed in traditional thobes and cloaks, and Saudi
policemen, in Western-style uniforms of olive green, lounging in a small
wooden building adjacent to the road. When they saw us, they jumped to
their feet and dashed out. The religious elders excitedly waved their
arms and shouted "Wagifi Wagif"' ("Stop!") while the
policemen furiously blew on their shrill whistles. I realized that we
had gone too far, but by then it was too late to turn around. We were
forced off the road by one of the angry policemen, who was immediately
joined by the others. Each yelled and gestured at us with a passion only
a Saudi can muster. At last the policeman who appeared to be in charge
collected the SR 300 fine (about $I00) and sent us, shaken, back toward
Jeddah.
This experience at the portal of Mecca is highly symbolic of
the relationship between the believer and the infidel in Saudi Arabia.
For throughout Saudi society, the great dividing line between the Saudis
and the Westerners is religion. Islam for the Saudis is more than a
theology, it is an entire way of life. Religion is the central force of
their existence. Religion is life and life religion. Such an intense
theology immensely complicates the Saudis' accommodation to
modernization.
Islam, always a powerful force, exercises a deeper hold on the
people of Saudi Arabia than on the Moslems of perhaps any other country.
The religion of Mohammed rose out of the Arabian Peninsula, a product of
the desert culture that ruled the peninsula for centuries before the
coming of the Prophet. For the people of the peninsula, the sym biotic
relationship between Islam and their civilization has ebbed from time to
time but has never broken. Islam as practiced in Saudi Arabia remains
today as it did at the time of Mohammed, a reflection of Arabia and of
the pure Arab.
Islam was born in the seventh century A.D. in Mecca. The
religion emerged from a period of conflict within Meccan society that
was remarkably similar to the stress now tearing at Saudi Arabia - new
wealth versus traditional values. Located halfway down Saudi Arabia's
west coast, forty-eight miles inland from the Red Sea, Mecca was a
convenient stopping place for the fabled camel caravans that transported
goods from India and Central Africa to Egypt and Palestine, where they
were fed into the pipeline of trade to the Mediterranean and the
crumbling Roman Empire. The merchants of Mecca thrived from this trade.
To promote business, they formed joint stock companies and dominated an
annual trade fair at Ukaz, near Mecca. In stark contrast to the austere
life of the desert people around Mecca, Ukaz brought together hundreds
of merchants, actors, gamblers, prostitutes, and poets in a great
festival of vice for the sole purpose of promoting business.
Removed from the influences of urban areas like Mecca, the
desert Arab still clung to the old values of desert life: honor,
bravery, hospitality, and the sacredness of family and tribe. Haunted by
a primitive religion, the Bedouin was engulfed by a swarm of spirits, or
jinn. Responding sporadically to ill-defined rituals, he worshiped the
jinn at a series of places containing sacred stones. The center of this
stone worship was in Mecca, controlled, as was trade, by the city's mer
chants. But as intimidated as he was by the jinn, the Bedouin's real
religion was his belief in the immortality of the tribe and the near
spiritual affinity and protection it spread over its members.
By the end of the sixth century, a great gulf had erupted in
Meccan society between the ethical system of the Bedouins and the wealth
and decadence that gripped Mecca itself, especially its ruling classes.
The fair at Ukaz characterized the decline in the values prized by the
desert Arab and the ascendancy of the new age of materialism. In pursuit
of wealth, the tribal system had broken down into clans, all warring
against one another. Life was a cycle of vengeance as an attack on any
clan was an attack on all and every act of reprisal was followed by yet
another act of revenge. Into this social disruption Abdulqasim Mohammed
ibn Abdullah ibn Abd al-Muttalib ibn Hashim was born in A.D. 570 or 571.
Orphaned at the age of six, he passed to the care of his grandfather,
the respected custodian of the Kaaba, who claimed to be a descendent of
Ishmael, the son of Abraham and Hagar.
When Mohammed was about forty and married to a rich widow of
Mecca, he began to retreat into the desert for long periods to meditate
on the sins of Meccan society. During these meditations, he claimed God
was revealing a new religion to him. His revelations were written down
by his followers, for he never learned to read or write, and collected
into the Koran, the fundamental source of Islamic doctrine. Soon he
began to attract followers. Like every successful preacher, Mo hammed
gave voice and form to the restiveness of his time. He gathered in the
young who were shut out of the councils of power. He denounced the quest
for wealth, attracting the poor. He rid the Bedouin of the dreaded jinn.
He restored the honor of the family while uniting his followers in the
great tribe of believers.
Fired with religious fervor, the followers of Mohammed poured
out of the Arabian Peninsula to spread their newfound religion. Before
they were depleted, they had established Islam from Persia (Iran) to
southern Spain. No longer purely Arab, the world of Islam became
pluralistic and polyglot almost overnight. Whole peoples, ancient
languages, and traditions that were beyond the scope of anything known
in Arabia meshed into the whole. The basic tenets of Mohammed's religion
and the cultural dictates of the Arabs became infiltrated by alien
ideas.
The successful expansion of Islam was accomplished under the
first four caliphs, or successors to Mohammed. Bakr, Umar, Uthman, and
Ali had all known Mohammed personally and each was successively selected
as caliph by the elders of Medina. But in an expanded empire with
conflicting rivalries, the ability of the religious authorities in far-
off Arabia to choose the leader eventually collapsed. In 661, Muawiyah,
the governor of Syria, challenged Ali for the caliphate. When Ali was
assassinated, control of the caliphate passed forever from the hands of
Mohammed's followers in Medina. Shocked by their loss of power and
hostile to the foreigners now in control, the Arabs of the peninsula
withdrew from the concerns of empire and retreated into their own
traditions. The Persian segment of Ali's supporters reacted to his
murder by renouncing the main body of Islam to become Shiites, or
followers of Ali. The Islamic nation split. The more orthodox Sunnis
claimed to follow the way of the Prophet while the Shiites incorporated
martyrdom, saints, and a priesthood into the simplicity of Mohammed's
teachings about the unitary relationship between God and man. The
failure of the Medina leadership to break with the main body of Islam
over the death of Ali was representative of the conflict between the
culture of the worldly Persians and that of the parochial Arabs of the
peninsula. But it was Sufism, an Islamic sect that preached mysticism,
that caused Mohammed ibn Abdul-Wahhab, a mid-eighteenth-century
itinerant preacher in north-central Arabia, to cry for a return to the
true teachings of Mohammed and the re-Arabization of Islam. Abdul-Wahhab
leapt backward across medieval theologians and legalists. His theology
banished the thought of the Sufis and thundered with the call to return
to the purity of Mohammed's teachings, un tainted by exposure to foreign
influences. Mohammed ibn Abdul-Wahhab, in essence, restored Arab
cultural values as the standard by which a Moslem was measured.
Early in his wanderings across the Nejd, Abdul-Wahhab came to
Dinyab, a village located on a large and fertile wadi* east of Riyadh.
There he converted the local ruler Abdul Aziz al-Saud** to his teach
ings and joined the sheikh's court. The house that Abdul Aziz gave to
Abdul-Wahhab still stands among the ruins of Diriyah. A large house by
the standards of an Arab village, it sits on a steep incline opposite
the old mosque and dominates the approach to the town, now nearly
deserted. I often climbed that hill and wandered among the crumbling
walls. In the rear, the pillars of the courtyard extend upward to the
sky, its blue unblurred by pollution, its calm undisturbed by material
progress. As I sat in the stillness of that courtyard, leaning against
the mud wall, the stubble of the straw bonding prickling my back, I some
times sensed the presence and the force of Abdul-Wahhab.
- *A dry river red.
- **This was the first Abdul Aziz. Abdul Aziz II unified
Saudi Arabia and founded the present House of Saud.
Although a powerful religious revivalist, Abdul-Wahhab, in the
hands of an al-Saud, also became a political force. Abdul Aziz, under un
ceasing pressure from neighboring tribes who coveted his territory and
his water supply, seized Abdul-Wahhab's religious revival as his own.
Fired by a religious renewal that banished all things foreign from Is
lam, the tribes of the Nejd under the leadership of Abdul Aziz became
the army of Wahhabism. Fed by its triumph in driving the heretical Shiites
out of Mecca, the Wahhabis turned toward the east. By the end of the
eighteenth century, they had reached the gates of Baghdad. There the
mission clashed with the political reality of the Ottoman Empire, whose
sultan also claimed the title of Protector of the Holy Places. In 1811,
the Ottomans executed Abdul Aziz and sent the Wahhabis back to Diriyah.
Subdued but not beaten, the Wahhabis rose up again in the early
twentieth century. The second Abdul Aziz, exiled to Kuwait by the al-Rashid
family, rivals to the al-Sauds in Diriyah, returned to his ancestral
home to unify the Bedouins and the townsmen of the Nejd. Together they
destroyed Abdul Aziz's enemies and drove the decadent Sherif Hussein
from Mecca. In 1932 Abdul Aziz declared the present state of Saudi
Arabia, founded on the religious principles of the Wahhabis. Thus the
Rouse of Saud tied itself inexorably to the religious fundamentalists.
Abdul Aziz was able to unite and rule the fiercely independent
Bedouins and the more numerous townsmen through an ingenious combination
of piety and patronage. In all things, the king was the protector and
defender of the faith. Through the philosophy of Wahhabism, he
cultivated a unique political system that totally integrated all aspects
of life, religious and secular, into one. Today as in the time of Abdul
Aziz, the Wahhabi state admits no distinction between the body of
religious beliefs and the political system.
Islam lends itself to a system that is both religious and
secular. For Mohammed created not just a religion but an entire way of
life that is built on three sources. At the core is the Koran, the
revealed word of God. * Second is the Sunna, a body of words and deeds
of the Prophet remembered and recorded by his followers, which with the
Koran is incorporated into a body of law called sharia. The sharia is
both the constitution and the legal system of Saudi Arabia, covering
social, commercial, domestic, criminal, and political affairs. The third
source of Mohammed's wisdom is the hadith, a written record of
Mohammed's pronouncements. On these three authorities, both the society
and political system of Saudi Arabia function.
Islam is a revealed religion, with a Prophet and a complete
set of rules. It is neither philosophical nor speculative. It regulates
not only religious beliefs and rituals but also every aspect of a
believer's daily life, from the number of times he should pray to how he
should wash after sexual intercourse. Islam as practiced in Saudi Arabia
remains demanding in its rituals, inflexible in its attitudes, and
intolerant of those who deviate from the way of the Prophet. The Saudis
possess the mentality of true believers, regarding other Moslems as
inferior and non-Moslems as infidels. These convictions manifest
themselves in the theory of government propagated by the House of Saud.
Saudi Arabia is in essence a hybrid theocracy - a monarchy built on and
maintained by a strict adherence to the religious rules set down by
Mohammed for Arabia fourteen centuries ago. The link between reli gion
and the state is seen everywhere. Emblazoned in white across a green
field on the flag of Saudi Arabia is the Islamic statement of faith:
"There is no god but God." Government documents
begin, "In the name of Allah, the Compassionate, the
Merciful." To the world, the House of Saud continually, through
word and deed, pronounces itself the guardian of the Islamic holy places
and, within the kingdom, de fends its existence by being the most
visible leader of the faith, reigning over the enforcement of its
rituals.
Religious law and public morals are enforced by the Committee
for the Protection of Virtue and the Prevention of Vice. The matawain,**
or religious police, were created by Abdul Aziz while his kingdom was
still in its infancy. After seizing Mecca from Sherif Hussein in 1924,
Abdul Aziz sent matawain missionaries into the Bedouin settlement of the
Nejd. Their mission was to coax the Bedouins to give up their nomadic
ways and settle in religious communities. Under its religious facade,
the mission of the matawain was in reality political: to put the Bedouins
under the control of Abdul Aziz.
- *Allah of the Moslems, God of the Christians, and
Yahweh of the Jews are the same deity.
- **Motowai, is the plural of morawoh, an enforcer of
religious law. All mofOwoin are part of the Committee for the Protection
of virtue and the Prevention of vice.
Most of the original matawain were ignorant zealots. Although the body
is still largely staffed by fanatics, a surprising number of foreign
educated younger men, perhaps disillusioned with what they see as the
decadence of the West, return to Saudi Arabia to join the ranks. The
matawuin today have coalesced into a group of vigilantes with an
increasingly sophisticated bureaucracy. The government has little
control over its membership or its actions. A matawah is not appointed
but rather rises up, by virtue of his piety, through the ranks of the
local mosque. The Committee for the Protection of Virtue and the
Prevention of Vice is a genuine grass-roots organization and an
important component of the backbone of the Rouse of Saud's political
support - the religious fundamentalists. Therefore, it has tremendous
power. Al though mostly free of political control by the House of Saud,
the religious organization is largely dependent on government financing
since the practice of Wahhabism does not include contributions to the
local mosque. But the committee does not approach the government as a
suppliant. Highly sophisticated in the budget process, the organization
hires its own professional budget consultants, often Western. A friend
of mine who sat in on the budgetary meeting for the Third Development
Plan told me that the committee's requests for money were masterful
presentations to be envied by any bureaucracy. When the erect and
imperious committee members entered the hearings with their gold-
trimmed black bishts ("cloaks") draped from their shoulders,
they seemed to fill the room with their aura. Rather than basing their
petition for funds on emotional appeals to the charitable instincts of
the budget managers, the committee's consultants unveiled color charts
and handed out bound folders showing objectives, justifications for various
requests for money, and documentation of the organization's current
activities. These elaborate presentations were probably not necessary
since no one in the bureaucracy - and especially not the Western
consultants to the Ministry of Planning - had the courage to challenge
the data or assumptions of the religious leaders. If a request failed to
meet planning guidelines, the whole package was pushed into the
bureaucratic pipeline for someone else to confront. In the end, the
matawain got what they wanted.
Although there is no way of knowing just how much money the
matawain garner from government coffers for salaries, mosque
construction, purchase of Korans, educational functions, and so on, it
is a significant amount. But unlike most other public agencies, there is
never any hint of impropriety in how they handle their funds. Corruption
goes against the faith and the practice of these men. Intolerant,
bigoted, and arrogant they may be, but no one can accuse them of
dishonesty.
The sophisticated bureaucratic side of the matawain was
something that I never saw on the streets. The self-appointed foot
soldiers who patrol the streets are, for the most part, uneducated,
often poor, and fanatic defenders of the faith.
The matawain literally keep watch over the public's morals. It
sometimes seemed to me there was a matawah on every corner. He needed no
identification other than his straggly beard dipped in henna and the
camel whip he carried in his grubby hand. At least two were always
parked on folding chairs at the entrance to the women's souqs. At prayer
time, others walked the streets shoufing "salctah"
("prayer") and rapping on windows ordering shops to close.
Through its political power, the matawain keep foreign books
and magazines they find objectionable out of the kingdom. Offensive
advertising is controlled by a legion of manual laborers armed with ink
pots and brushes, who leaf through imported magazines, painting out
pictures of women and ads for alcohol. Photo-developing labs are
periodically raided to see that they are not printing pictures that fail
to pass the matawain 's rigid Wahhabi standards. Almost any subject is a
target - pictures of statues, temples, religious celebrations, beach
scenes, party pictures, or a male and female embracing. Westerners
seldom send a prize roll of film to the processor. To protect them
selves, developers will only print the pictures they know will pass
censorship, if a matawah has not already seized the whole roll. For a
stiff surcharge, the Falcon lab would develop film for anxious customers
during the night for even the matawain went to bed.
All Westerners have a healthy respect for if not downright
fear of the matawain. It is they who keep Western women in the publicly
prescribed dress, for a Western woman who ventures out in a knee length
skirt risks a whipping on her legs with a matawah's camel whip. The matawain
forbid women to ride a bicycle or jog. An unmarried man and woman riding
in the same car together risk being arrested by the matawain and taken
to one of their special jails, where they vill be harangued about their
loose morals. In Riyadh, almost every Weterner runs afoul of a matawah
at some time. The most unpleasant encounter I ever had was in the souq
in the oasis town of al-Khaij.
On a hot Friday morning, my friend Jane Walker and I entered
the old covered market. We milled through a collection of Bedouin women
squatting on the ground, selling hand-spun yarn of wool and camel hair
and crude yogurt bags made from the whole skin of a goat with the neck
left open and rawhide cords tied around the ragged ends of the severed
legs. I was in a long skirt, a short-sleeve but modest T shirt, and had
my hair covered with a scarf. I had a camera, securely snapped shut in
its case, slung over my shoulder. Suddenly out of nowhere a matawah
swooped down on me like a bird of prey. Screaming insults, he grabbed my
arm, dragged me to the back door of the souq, and threw me into the
alley with the debris from the market. As I picked myself up, totally
dazed, a young Saudi stepped up, pointed at my camera, and said,
"Go to your car!" Dutifully, I went to the car, left the
camera, and returned to the souq. Back through the yarn, the spices, and
the yogurt bags, I reached the spot where I had been previously. To my
astonishment, I was attacked again by the same man. Recharged at me
through the crowd, screaming a torrent of Arabic. He grabbed me by the
fleshy part of my upper arm and pinched hard, leaving a large black
bruise. He then swung me around and grabbed the other arm, squeezing my
flesh between his coarse fingers. Before I could comprehend what was
happening, I was back out in the alley, staring into a pile of severed
sheeps' heads, their fixed eyes staring back at me. As the matawah 's
verbal harangue continued, I realized that it was not my camera but my
short sleeves that had offended this keeper of the public morals.
The matawain are obsessed with controlling the influence of
heathen Westerners. To guard the young against deviation from Wahhabism,
the government is under continual pressure to keep movie theaters and
other recreational activities out of the kingdom and to limit the number
of Saudis who are allowed to go abroad to study. There is acute
apprehension that even pleasure travel abroad, which the Saudis
enthusiastically embraced with the oil boom, will undermine the Islamic
tenets. Any place outside the hallowed borders of Saudi Arabia is
considered wracked with sin. One religious leader deplored the foreign
contamination of the young by saying that Saudis leave the kingdom to
"go to dens of iniquity such as Bangkok, Paris, London, and
Omaha."
At the root of the matawain's rigidity is their belief that to
be a devout Moslem is to be guided by rules. In the face of the
onslaught of wealth, materialism, foreign influences, and the ever
escalating press of change, the matawain stand in defense of a way of
life. They are there to enforce the rules that have measured life in
Saudi Arabia since Mohammed.
Islam is built on five pillars of faith: the profession of
Allah as the one great God, prayer, fasting, zakat
("charity"), and the pilgrimage to Mecca. All command an
important place in the religious and political life of Saudi Arabia.
The rhythm of daily life is set by the five prayer times:
sunrise, midday, midafternoon, sundown, and one hour after sundown. By
4:30 A. M. many mornings, I was awakened from a deep sleep by the un
mistakable "A llahu Akbar" ("God is great")
reverberating from the neighborhood mosque. As I was groaning and
turning over in my bed, the devout Moslem was plowing through the street
in disheveled gutra and sandaled feet to pray with his brother believers
at the nearest mosque. From the first call to the last, the day is
punctuated by prayer.
The morning hours are the time when the most business can be
accomplished. I loved the humming activity in the souqs during the
morning. Noisy trucks laden with fresh vegetables honked their horns as
they moved through the crowd of shoppers in the square just off of the
Medina road. The money changer on the corner riffled through Saudi
riyals, dollar bills, pound notes, and Swiss francs in his small office
crowded with customers. Tea boys scurried between other offices carrying
trays filled with miniature cups of sweet hot tea. The women, huddled in
their own area of the market, haggled over the prices of nuts and
spices. Then as midday approached, there was a noticeable lessening of
activity. Metal shutters clanged down over store fronts, dust covers
were thrown over vegetables, and women left for home as an eerie calm
fell over the cityscape just before the call to prayer went out from the
mosque. As the centuries-old chant washed over nearby al-Margab Square,
men crowded around the long row of water spigots at the mosque to
perform their ablutions - the washing of the face, nostrils, ears,
hands, and feet before entering the presence of God in prayer.
The stillness of midday remains through the afternoon while
the population, well fed, lies down to sleep. Somewhere between three
and four in the afternoon, depending on the time of year, the muezzin
calls the third prayer of the day. Sleep ceases, prayers are said
either at home or at the mosque, and the men leave once again for their
shops and offices. 'What commerce or business has not been accomplished
in the morning possibly can be done before the fourth and longest period
of prayer, the sunset prayer when everything else once again ceases.
Facing Mecca, the men, led by the oldest or most respected in the group,
surrender to the will of God. Perhaps because of the time of day, this
is the most dramatic of the prayer times. One of the most profound
moments I experienced in Saudi Arabia was during one evening at sunset.
As I walked across the hospital grounds into a stiff west wind, I came
upon a group at prayer. Mecca is west from Riyadh, causing the
worshipers to face into the setting sun, its orange light heightened and
diffused by the millions of dust particles in the air. The men were
kneeling, their heads bowed to the ground. A lone woman stood apart,
erect, her head held high, the wind whipping her veil and abaaya as she
prayed. They were performing the same ritual that has been performed in
Saudi Arabia for the last millennium and a half. An hour later, these
same people, dispersed to other places, would fall down again in the
direction of Mecca to end their day of ritual with the final prayers.
The scene of men kneeling in prayer is an integral part of
everyday life in Saudi Arabia. I walked around groups of men at prayer
in the airports. The horse races on Monday afternoons in the winter
never began until the jockeys, the stable boys, and the assembled
royalty observed the afternoon prayers. But it was at the great annual
camel race that I saw man best overcome his surroundings in order to bow
down before God. As I milled through the big camp especially set up for
the race on the plain outside of Riyadh, I was buffeted by hundreds of
people leading cantankerous camels to and from the track. Coffee pots
were boiling on a hundred fires, while small Toyota pickups filled with
feed for the camels careened through the grounds. And then the call for
mid afternoon prayers went out. Men hurriedly staked their camels and
gathered together. With silent consent, one man stepped forward to be
the leader. Quickly the others lined up in rows behind him with no
distinction drawn by wealth or social class. In the midst of incredible
activity, they faced Mecca, knelt, and touched their fore heads to the
crusty earth in submission.
The non-Moslem necessarily became involved in prayer times
because by Saudi law everything must close during the prayers. It was
never enough for a merchant to refuse to admit anyone into his place of
business during prayer time; everyone who was in the store was forced
out on the sidewalk. As we sat there, the shades with which most places
of business were equipped were drawn and the lights doused until the
prayer period ended thirty to forty-five minutes later.
To avoid these interruptions, all errands and shopping must be
done between about 8:00 and 11:30A.M., 4:00 and 6:00 P.M., 6:30 and 7:30
P.M., or after the last prayer call. To help the faithful meet their
religious obligations and the shoppers to prepare themselves, the daily
newspapers publish the times of the prayers. Every day is different, as
is every city in the country, according to the precise time of sunrise
and sunset The hour between the fourth and fifth prayers has been dubbed
the "prayer window" by the expatriates. The end of the work
day is a prime time to shop. As soon as the sunset prayers ended, I
would dash out to the supermarket, race through, grabbing bread and
milk, and then charge through the check-out stand before I was caught in
the final prayer call.
Actually the muezzin no longer calls the prayers. As with so
much else in Saudi Arabia, prayer call has been mechanized. In the old
days, the muezzin would laboriously climb the steps of the mosque five
times a day, every day, to call out the faithful. I once heard a muezzin
call the prayers in rural Egypt. No amount of electronic equipment can
draw up emotions in the same way as the low, penetrating sound that
comes from deep in the throat of a muezzin standing alone on a minaret.
But what the prayer call in Saudi Arabia may lack in emotion, it makes
up for in volume. The blast from the loudspeakers is so deafening that
Westerners often choose where to live by whether it is downwind or
upwind from the mosque. On Fridays, some mosques broadcast the entire
service over their loudspeakers. The thundering fundamentalist
Protestant of the United States Bible Belt could never match the emotion
and volume of an iman (the spiritual leader of the community) on a good
Friday.
The Moslem does not view prayer as a petition for the favors
of God. Nor is it communication with God. Rather, prayer is a ritual
that recognizes the power of God, while communal prayer, wherever it is
performed, affirms the brotherhood of believers. Prayer is the
celebration of the unity of a great tribe held together by its
submission to Allah and its obedience to his teachings. Prayer affirms
the equality of believers, a concept especially strong within the
Wahhabi sect. In con forming to the dictates of Abdul-Wahhab, all Saudi
men dress alike as a statement of this equality in the eyes of God. The
king's thobe may be made of silk and the shopkeeper's of cotton, but
their simple, un adorned garments make them brothers before God. It is
this statement of unity and equality that makes prayer not only a ritual
but a deep emotional experience for a Saudi. During Ramadan, the month
of fasting and another of the five pillars of Islam, a Moslem's prayers
take on added meaning.
Ramadan is observed in the ninth month of the Hijrah calendar.
* By tradition, this is the month in which the first Koranic verses were
revealed to Mohammed. Its significance is further heightened by the fact
that it was during Ramadan that Mohammed's armies consolidated their
first important military successes in the Battle of Badr in 624.
Throughout Ramadan, a Moslem fasts from the early morning hours when it
be- comes light enough to tell a white thread from a black thread, until
it is too dark to distinguish between the two. Ramadan is the holiest
time of the year, when a Moslem struggles through self-sacrifice to
master his worldly concerns, encourage compassion, and foster within the
Islamic community a collective sense of conforming to God's commands.
For the devout, Ramadan can be a rigorous exercise in
self-discipline. During the daylight hours, which in the latitude of
Riyadh or Jeddah can last up to sixteen hours, an observant Moslem
abstains from food, drink, and sex. An elaborate set of rules defines
what constitutes the breaking of the fast, which in turn requires
additional penance. According to Moslem scholars, actions that
invalidate the fast are eating, drinking, smoking, or having sexual
intercourse during daylight hours. Also included are "deliberately
causing oneself to vomit; beginning of menstruation or post-childbirth
bleeding even at the last moment before sunset; ejaculation for reasons
other than sexual inter course (e.g., kissing or hugging one's wife). **
So faithful to the restrictions are some of the old, ultra-religious men
that they will not break their fast even to swallow their own saliva or
to take vital medication.
- * The Hijrah calendar is a lunar calendar in which one
year is approximately twelve days shorter than that of the Gregorian
calendar. See Chapter 9 for its present application in Saudi Arabia.
- **Saudi Gazette. June 23, 1984.
Ramadan radically alters the pace of daily life. No one knows
exactly when Ramadan will begin since it depends on the visual sighting
of the new moon, but Moslem and Westerner alike view its approach with
nervous anticipation. (Westerners often define their time in Saudi
Arabia by the number of Ramadans they have experienced). The week before
the expected new moon, the Supreme Judicial Council publishes public
notices calling on any citizen who sights the new moon "to approach
the nearest court to testify to witnessing the event." If the court
agrees, the spotter is rewarded with a generous cash award. Every year
for several days before the projected start of Ramadan, I awakened at
sunrise to listen for the sound of the cannon that announced the
beginning of the fast. The Ramadan cannon, a relic that I suspected was
left over from Lawrence of Arabia's raids on the Turks during the First
World War, was hauled out of storage every year and installed in front
of a dirty square canvas tent on an empty field fronting
Intercontinental Road. It was faithfully tended by two men, who, for
some unexplained reason, always fired the weapon straight at the passing
traffic. Every morning at first light, the cannon was fired to mark the
beginning of the day's fasting. It was fired again at sunset to mark the
end of the fast and signal that the ijtar, the meal breaking the fast,
could begin. Families would then gather around laden tables to eat and
celebrate through most of the night. A second large meal, the saool, was
served at about 3:oo A.M., in preparation for sunrise. Then almost
everyone went to bed and stayed there through much of the day, for
during Ramadan day and night are reversed.
At midmorning of one typical Ramadan day, I wandered the
streets of downtown Riyadh. Unlike the bustle of ordinary mornings, a
death like stillness hung over Tamari Street. Shops were padlocked. The
few dealers in the gold souqs who had opened their shops dozed behind
their counters. The black African women who usually clustered on the
street selling soft drinks were gone. Across the square from where
Tamari Street meets the clock tower, the seldom seen poor of Saudi
Arabia gathered near the main mosque, waiting for their measure of
charity from their more prosperous Moslem brothers. The obligation to
pay zakat, or alms tax, another pillar of faith, is often tied to
Ramadan. Although the Koran does not specify the amount or when it
should be paid, many Saudis distribute money and also food during
Ramadan. In order to make the poor available to the pious, the tough
restrictions imposed on beggars by the Bureau of Beggar Control are
lifted for the month. As I walked by the mosque, I saw men sitting on
the broken pavement of the sidewalk, leaning against the stone wall of
the low, square building, their crutches clutched in their hands.
Others, in ragged clothes, slept on thin blankets spread out on the
sidewalk or under the thin foliage of the nearby trees. A few women with
dirty, tattered children gathered around them sat in the shade on the
opposite side of the building. This quiet would last until the end of
the final prayer call, when the deserted streets would again come alive.
Like nocturnal animals, people would emerge from their homes to make
merry or simply to restock their depleted pantry shelves for the follow
ing night's feasting.
One of the deepening conflicts between the traditionalists and
the more religiously lax Saudis is that Ramadan is becoming less a
period of deprivation and more a time of merrymaking in the name of reli
gion. Over the years that I spent in Saudi Arabia, I saw Ramadan
increasingly become the occasion for lavish entertaining or complete
escape from the kingdom. While the devout fasted and prayed, large
numbers of the well-to-do left for the pleasure spots of Europe. 'When
these escapees were members of the royal family, it created a political
problem. Of the three kings since the oil boom, only King Faisal
succeeded in keeping most members of the royal family in the kingdom
during Ramadan. The absence of even some of the more prominent members
of the royal family is distasteful to the people, for Ramadan commands a
special reverence for all Moslems. There is the belief among the Saudis
that not only the conduct of pious people but the conduct of the general
population is affected in a positive way by Ramadan. Attendance at
prayers at the mosques increases, the level of charity rises,
and, according to the statistics of Riyadh's Crime Department, the
already low rate of crime drops. "There was a crime drop in Riyadh
during this year's holy fasting month of Ramadan for the Moslems. . . .
Only five youngsters went to jail for harassing women in various markets
and public parks. Another 112 young people were imprisoned for hot
rodding their cars.
A total of 59 persons were caught red handed while eating when
they should have been fasting."*
Arrests for eating are common since public observance of the
fast is mandatory for non-Moslems as well as Moslems. All restaurants
and other eating establishments remain closed during the hours of the
fast.
- *Arab News, Auguat i6, 1982.
Non-Moslems who eat or drink in the presence of Moslems risk
subjection to the camel whips or the jails of the malawain. This means
that Westerners away from their homes must either do without food and
water or plan ahead. Because of the danger of dehydration, any foray out
in public during Ramadan required provisioning. When I went out, I would
freeze water in a slender plastic bottle which I then put inside a heavy
sock and hid in the bottom of the basket that I used for shopping. The
problem then became how to get to the water without being seen. I
remember hiding in an alleyway in Baatha with my friend Kathy Bows one
hot Ramadan morning to steal a drink of water. While I hugged the corner
of an old, decaying building, watching for a matawah, Kathy fished the
bottle from the basket, unscrewed the cap, and gulped down a quick
drink. We quickly switched places to give me a turn at the cold,
reviving liquid.
Essentially very little is accomplished during Ramadan. Under
Saudi labor law, Moslems are not required to work more than six hours a
day. Government offices do not open until 10:00
A.M. and close at 3:00 P.M. But whether or not anyone is there during
that time is another matter: in the middle of one Ramadan day, my
superior at the Ministry of Planning found himself totally alone in the
ministry building. In addition, during the 1970s, the already short food
supplies dwindled even further because few ships were unloaded in the
ports. At the end of that first Ramadan I spent in Saudi Arabia, only
one bony, freezer- burned chicken was left in the market when the month
ended.
Yet the Westerners are caught up in the festive aspects of
Ramadan as well. Workloads are light and schedules are thrown to the
winds. And like the Saudis, the Westerners more often than not prowl the
streets until I :oo A.M. Life goes on in this vein until everyone begins
to look for the new moon heralding the beginning of the month of Shawwal
and the five-day feast, or Eid al-Fitr, marking the end of Ramadan.
Following the eid, the Ramadan cannon is rolled into storage until next
year and life returns to normal until the hajj, the other great
religious event of the year.
The hajj, or pilgrimage to Mecca, occurs two months after Rama
dan, by the Hijrah calendar. Every year during the month of Dhul Rijjah,
an incredible one and a half to two million Moslems from around the
world descend on Saudi Arabia to perform the pilgrimage, a ritual begun
by Abraham and affirmed by Mohammed 14oo years ago. During the hajj, the
holy city of Mecca becomes an immense caldron of humanity, black, brown,
yellow, and white. The entire government of Saudi Arabia closes down for
a ten-day period, most non-Moslems attempt to leave the country on
vacation, and life stands suspended as the pilgrims perform their
rituals. For the Moslem, the hajj is a pro found statement of his
devotion to God, a rejection of sin, and a celebration of the
brotherhood of all Moslems.
The hajj is also a marvel of logistics and endurance. At the
height of the hajj, planes bearing pilgrims wrapped in the ihram, a
simple white seamless garment, land at the Jeddah airport at the rate of
one per minute. The arrivees are taken from the plane and shuttled into
the special hajj terminal, a massive structure that sits just beyond the
main terminal at Jeddah, where the all-important hajj visas are checked
be- fore the pilgrims can enter Saudi Arabia and undertake religious
rites. The pilgrims are accommodated in everything from luxury hotels to
tents. During much of the hajj, all two million pilgrims congregate
within an area called the Holy Haram, which extends in an elongated
shape three miles to the northeast and eighteen miles to the southeast
from the mosque at Mecca. The Plain of Arafat, located within the Holy
Haram, becomes a sea of white tents. Food, water, medical ser vices, and
sanitation facilities have to be provided and the maze of traffic kept
under some control. After completing their rituals, the hajjis, or
pilgrims, will have been transported, most en masse, on a 120-mile,
six-day trip from Jeddah to the holy sites and back again. As in all
aspects of Islam, the rituals of the hajj are exactly prescribed. The
highlights are the throwing of stones at Mina, which symbolizes the
driving out of sin; drinking from the Zamzam well, by tradition the well
that saved Hagar and Ishmael from death; prayer on the Plain of Arafat;
and, as the culmination, the Eid al-Adha.
The Eid al-Adha, the Feast of Sacrifice, takes place on the
tenth day of Dhul-Hijjah, following the prayers at Arafat. As part of
the ritual of the hajj, every pilgrim who can afford it sacrifices an
animal to share with the poor. Moslems around the world participate in
the same ritual, which, as other aspects of Islam, affirms the
brotherhood of believers. When we lived at Doctors' Villas #4, I heard a
commotion outside my window on the morning of the eid. Looking down I
saw the Tabahs, our Palestinian neighbors, hanging a live goat up on a
red and white metal swing set in front of their house. When it was
tightly secured, Majid deftly slit the throat, letting the bright red
blood drain into the dry sand. The children in the compound were
fascinated. As they gathered around, Majid severed the goat's tail and
handed it to Cohn as the oldest male of the group. The animal hung there
for several hours before it was cut down and taken into the house to
become the main dish of the eid. In proper Moslem tradition, the Tabahs
delivered pieces of it to their Western neighbors, perhaps not the poor
but certainly the spiritually less fortunate.
Most of the hajjis who come to Mecca are making their first
trip out of their native land. Although kings, presidents, wealthy
businessmen, and religious scholars are among the pilgrims, most are
simple people who saved all their lives for the chance to make the
pilgrimage to Mecca. They pour off of the planes and boats knowing no
language but their own and with no experience in international travel.
To ease the confusion, groups are organized by language and assigned
guides, who stay with the group throughout the hajj to instruct the
pilgrims in the proper performance of the religious rituals. In recent
years, tour companies operating out of Pakistan, Indonesia, and other
countries with large Moslem populations provide their clients total
package tours consisting of air fare, accommodations, and religious
instruction.
The large number of pilgrims now coming to Saudi Arabia is due
to the advent of air travel, which revolutionized the hajj beginning in
the 1950s. In past centuries, the trip was made by ship, horse, camel,
or on foot. Some who left for Mecca as children returned as adults. Many
others who left their homes never returned. The Rijaz railroad from
Damascus to Mecca was the first convenience built to ease the rigors of
the trip. Unfortunately, before it could be used the First World War
intervened and the rail line was destroyed by Arab guerrillas led by T.
E. Lawrence, the legendary Lawrence of Arabia. It was never rebuilt.
Wreckage of one of the trains is still strewn across the desert in north
west Saudi Arabia. Even a few years ago, thousands of pilgrims came by
car. Before security concerns forced the government to channel most
pilgrims in and out of Saudi Arabia by air, caravans of cars drove from
Iraq, Iran, and Syria across the breadth of Saudi Arabia to Mecca.
Vehicles came through Riyadh, their horns blowing and green
hajj flags flapping from their antennas, so loaded with people and
possessions that their rear bumpers just cleared the road. Every year
there was an area outside of Riyadh that was designated as the
"hajj camp," where the government provided tents for the
pilgrims. Just as their ancestors did, the hajjis brought rugs from
their homelands to sell in order to finance their pilgrimage. The
Oriental rug enthusiasts among the Western community yearly stampeded
the camp in search of treasures The hajjis had learned to merchandise.
Rather than bringing the family heirlooms, they loaded their cars with
machine-made carpets, which they pawned off on gullible Westerners as
examples of their country's or tribe's finest craft. Bargaining was
fierce and difficult since Arabic was not always sufficient and none of
us knew a word of Afghani or Urdu. Not being particularly fond of
Oriental rugs, I usually wandered among the canvas tents, where the
women cooked over small gas heaters and the children played or slept on
blankets or rugs spread out on the hard ground. In different years, I
found both of my hajj camp rugs among the pilgrims' tents. One is a
large tribal rug dyed with vegetable dyes, probably from somewhere on
the border between Iran and Afghanistan. It is greatly worn and has
small, carefully darned holes where the embers from countless campfires
have fallen and burned through. The other is a Bedouin weaving from the
Hadramaut, the southeastern part of the Arabian Peninsula that borders
the Rub al Khali, where rug weaving among the Bedouins is a dying, if
not al ready dead, art. The sellers were amazed that I had rejected
their new merchandise in favor of these dirty weavings dragged from
their tents. Not believing their good fortune, they were anxious to
sell. Often when I look at my much-loved rugs, I laugh to think how
generously I must have added to those hajjis' funds for Mecca.
Just as the stampede to Mecca gradually accelerates, the hajj
season winds down. The cars wander back through Riyadh. Congestion at
the airport declines as the pilgrims, many carrying small plastic jerry
cans of water from the Zamzam well, bundle themselves and their
possessions back on planes for the trip home.
The credit for the security of the pilgrims and the relative
ease of the hajj today goes to the House of Saud. Pilgrims were
shamefully pillaged and exploited until Abdul Aziz ibn Saud won control
of Mecca and personally undertook to guarantee their safety. Every Saudi
king since Abdul Aziz, with the exception of Saud, has been identified
with some aspect of the haji. Just as King Faisal expanded the Grand
Mosque at Mecca and King Khalid presided over its completion, the
present king, Fahd, has announced plans for a major renovation and
enlargement of the Prophet's mosque at Medina. Within the bureaucracy,
the minister of Pilgrimage and Endowments holds the same cabinet rank as
the minister of Petroleum or Foreign Affairs. Every year the minis try
oversees the spending of more than $50 million for the hajj. And every
year the government continues to pour enormous sums into the hajj for
everything from mosques to road construction to public telephones to
Zamzam water for the pilgrims
Why does Saudi Arabia go to such extraordinary lengths to
stage the hajj? In simple terms, it is a gigantic public relations
venture, ensuring that the kingdom retains its image as protector of
Islam's holy places. Former King Faisal, as well as being truly devout,
grasped the significance of the hajj in the modern nation-state system.
Saudi Ara bia's oil wealth freed the Rouse of Saud from its dependence
on revenues from the pilgrims' fees to run the government. After 1973
the House of Saud was in the position to turn the celebration of Moslem
brotherhood into status for Saudi Arabia. And it has succeeded.
Symbolically, the hajj has become enormously important to both Saudi
Arabia and to the House of Saud. For a country with vast reserves of a
vital natural resource and threatened by inadequately defended borders
and an insignificant population, the prestige attached to being head of
the "Islamic nation" pays important dividends in the world
arena. During the hajj, the Saudis host dozens of well-known but widely
divergent pilgrims. One year President Zia ul-Haq of Pakistan and Indian
film star Dilip Kumar were officially received the same day. Entire
delegations from Islamic countries from Djibouti to Indonesia file past
leading members of the Rouse of Saud, the self-proclaimed guardian of
Islam's holy sites, to pay homage. And each year following the hajj,
hundreds of cables of thanks from foreign governments flood into the
kingdom in gratitude for the Saudis' hospitality. With the mantle of
Islam wrapped tightly around itself, the House of Saud has embraced the
hajj as the ultimate symbol of the power and the universality of Islam.
At the same time, the rulers, in the name of Wahhabism, fight a
rear-guard action against the infusion of other religions, especially
Christianity, into the rigorously controlled confines of the kingdom.