Closer to God

As Fatemah Farag and photographer Sherif Sonbol are swept up in the ecstasy of the zikr, they discover worship beyond ordinary rites and rituals

Circles of faith: believers gather for the ritual of 'remembrance', where rhythm and soul are fused into one. At the mawalid, the sheer joy of worship is usually associated with a more boisterous zikr -- condemned by the more orthodox religious establishment

What comes to mind during Eid Al-Adha, the feast following the final phase in the pilgrimage to Mecca which comprises the fifth pillar of Islam, are the images of white-garbed pilgrims in Mecca, the call to prayer that fills the streets at dawn, the sacrificial sheep and the meals that follow. But on occasions such as these, there is another form of worship -- an attempt by man to extend beyond his worldly concerns. It is the circle of zikr.

"When this ritual [the zikr] is confined to the remembering of God through the use of the Holy Qur'an and the Sunna (practice to be emulated) of his beloved Prophet, it is favourable for the pious to gather in this way," explained Sheikh Ahmed Noureddin, a member of the Fatwa Council at Al-Azhar. "It fulfils the Sunna handed down to us through Imam Turmuzi, in which he recounts that the prophet was sitting with his friends and he said 'let us remember [God] for an hour'. Then Mohamed and those around him began to chant in barely audible tones: 'There is no god but God'."

The Sufi orders have developed this form of 'remembrance'. As Mohamed Abdel-Latif, senior member of the Higher Council for Sufi Orders, elaborated: "Each order has its munshid (cantor) who recites the poetry and ibtihalat (entreaties) to God."

Both Al-Azhar and the Council have expressed their disapproval of the way popular culture has interpreted and changed this form of worship. "What we see these days especially during the mawalid -- the celebrations held to mark the birth of revered figures -- is unfortunately mostly a distortion of accepted practices. You would not see such things 20 years ago -- they are a product of this modern age. Included among the by-laws of the Sufi Council -- with which all orders must be registered -- are articles that make use of musical instruments which transform the zikr into dancing, punishable by fine. We try and follow up on such violations but it is no easy job," elaborated Abdel-Latif with an indignation shared by the white-bearded men in his office.

Some, however, seem to take a more lenient stand. "The zikr circle is a majlis rawhi (spiritual council). It is an event which does not need music, although in recent years music has been added to keep up the enthusiasm of followers," agrees Mohamed Habibi, the sheikh of the Habibi order. He adds, however, that "what is important is the rhythm. The movement and words of the tongue must move to the heart -- if you are distracted by others, then this cannot happen. In some instances the rhythm and its correlation to a specific music can pull out the inner music of the words -- Galalat Al-Ism (the glory of God's name)."

Later in the evening, we attend a circle organised by the Council. In a well-lit tent, men sit in concentric circles. A monotonous chanting fills the space. There are men of all ages, from all walks of life. The clerks are given away by their safari suits, the young by their trendy jeans and the workers by their rough hands and galabiyas. All join hands and enter the circle they believe is reported to God by the angels -- a circle that takes them beyond material life and gives them the opportunity, for the minutes it lasts, to become something other than that offered to them in this life. Small children are with their fathers, and one little boy seems to have been lulled to sleep by the rhythmic chants as he hangs onto the arms of his father and grandfather.

The mood is serene and subdued -- quite different from the boisterous, dense circles that take place at the mawalid. At such events, men, women and children are moved not only by the words but also the music and the momentum created by the coordinated movements of the crowd. For most, however, the significance seems to be equally profound. "It is for the love of God," explains an old man before stepping into a circle within which we are to witness him enter a trance. "The zikr is to show obedience and love to the Creator -- that is why it soothes and comforts all those who come and join its ranks."

Sheikh Noureddin explains that when people are in crisis, they move en masse towards God. "For example, in the days of the Prophet there was once a drought and he beseeched his God who answered with rain that saved lives. And as God tells us, there is nothing more valuable to make man happy than the comfort that results from being close to God."