Short promotional preview featuring myself:
Short promotional preview featuring myself:
This semester I’m taking a class called “Anthropology of Poetry and Prayer” for which I’m currently reading Carl W. Ernst’s Sufism: An Introduction to the Mystical Tradition of Islam. More than anything I learned from the bulk of the content about Sufism specifically, I was especially struck by certain facts he relayed about history and scholarship on Islam in general. For example, in the Preface (pg. xvi):
The Arabic term islam itself was of relatively minor importance in classical theologies based on the Qur’an; it literally means submission to God, and it denotes the minimal external forms of compliance with religious duty. If one looks at the works of theologians such as the famous Abu Hamid al-Ghazali (d. 1111), the key term of religious identity is not islam but iman, or faith, and the one who possesses it is the mu’min or believer. Faith is one of the major topics of the Qur’an, mentioned hundreds of times in the sacred text. In comparison, islam is a relatively uncommon term of secondary importance; it only occurs eight times in the Qur’an. Since, however, the term islam had a derivative meaning relating to the community of those who have submitted to God, it became practically useful as a political boundary term, both to outsiders and to insiders who wished to draw lines around themselves.
I have never heard of this before; this shocks me both because I grew up in a Muslim household and attended Islamic Sunday school, where the idea of “Islam” as such in defining what we were learning was never questioned, but also because I’ve been studying Islam through anthropology for a while and have yet to come across this fact—and perhaps never would have if I hadn’t read this text. To be sure, the fact of a word meaning “submission” defining the religion was never significant to my interpretation of Islam to begin with. But it’s fascinating to consider the implications of that word, as opposed to others, coming to define the religion.
This is an especially long post on an especially packed day, so here are some internal links if you want to navigate quickly to a specific section: (1) Tour of al Bastakiya village (2) The Sheikh Mohammed Centre for Cultural Understanding (3) “Little India” at the Dubai souq (4) The pride of Dubai (5) One more mall & final reflections
Our exploration of Dubai started in a traditional community that seemed out of place among the surrounding fast cars and glittering skyscrapers. This was al Bastakiya, one of Dubai’s oldest villages that has managed to preserve itself in the face of industrial expansion and development.
Before departing for Abu Dhabi, Mark made sure to give us a good briefing on the Emirates and the broader region. Disclaimer: this is generally the case, but I don’t mean to relay everything here as fact—it is largely Mark’s interpretation, and my own interpretation of his account of his interpretation—thus not only may I misrepresent something he’s said, but there are always alternative analyses of the complicated events still unfolding in the region. And oversimplifications may arise from both mine and Mark’s need to quickly summarize. Basically, I am still learning and trying to wrap my head around the important intricacies of Middle East politics, so forgive me (and correct me) if I get something wrong—and if you’ve interpreted events differently, please share your own thoughts. Anyways…
During our final morning in Oman, we had one last meeting—breakfast with Dr. Abdulrahman Al-Salmi, who works at the Ministry of Religious Affairs and is one of the leading experts on Muslim-Christian relationships in the Middle East. In our discussion about interfaith issues, Dr. Al-Salmi described how Oman’s Port of Sohar was once a “Gate to the Oriental,” facilitating interaction and trade between Oman and various other countries and cultures during medieval times. He noted how, at that time, the country used to have a Jewish population that is largely absent now—although there is still considerable diversity in terms of Muslim sects. He also claimed that the Muttrah souq is emblematic of Oman’s diversity, as its shop-owners come from a large variety of religious backgrounds.
Driving through Muscat on our first night I noticed a huge, lit-up structure, impossible to miss from any angle—even from the sky (I could see it from the airplane as well). This was the Sultan Qaboos Grand Mosque, ordered to be built in 1992 by then-and-current Sultan of Oman, Qaboos bin Said Al Said. Building started in 1995, and in 2001, only six years later, this impressive structure was completed.
So of course, on Monday morning, we hopped on a baisa bus (an inexpensive transportation service named after Oman’s smallest denomination of currency, the baisa) to begin our trip by visiting this beautiful house of worship.