Juma prayer

Yesterday, I went to my first juma prayer in Islamabad, Pakistan. The juma prayer is the only prayer (out of the popular 35 per week) that is comparable to the Christian Sunday sermon. It is only prayer that involves commentary by the mullah (religious leader); most of the time the mullah runs through each prayer with his own selections of Qur’an readings but no commentary.

Juma prayer is the salaat (prayer) that Westerners, unbeknownst to them, fear the most. The largest numbers of men attend this service on Friday around noon. The mullah or imam takes 30 minutes to an hour to speak his message for the week. The fear comes from the potential for mullah to speak for activism, and the occasional demonstration that may ensue.
The school I teach at cancelled classes this Friday, reportedly for the concern that there may be demonstrations (but maybe we just wanted a long weekend after having Thursday off for Ashura). Why demonstrations? Why, for political silliness, of course… By political, I do not mean government – the Pakistan government specifically met on the recent issue of Muhammad cartoons in the Danish and French press [I have a lot to say here but not today] and advocated for tolerance. However, rumor has it that other Islamic groups/countries were not happy with Pakistan’s weak response to the cartoon incident. Thus, this Friday was supposed to be Pakistan ‘catching-up’ with the rest of the world.

Rather than holing up in the safety of my house, I was planning to see this religious protest for myself and in doing so I learned a few things.

1. A police officer is apparently outside each mosque for every juma prayer in Islamabad; he checked my bag with my camera and waved me inside.

2. A lot of people show up for juma. I entered the mosque about 5-8 minutes after the azan (call to prayer) and about ten people were inside the main chamber. I sat just outside the main chamber and, to be honest, dozed off as the mullah continued his Friday prayer in Urdu; I woke up surrounded by hundreds of men that had come to prayer seated next to me on the floor. They filled the main chamber, the washing area [for wudu] to the side, and the courtyard with what I estimate to be 400-500 men.

3. I fit in, somehow. A man turned to me with a slip of paper in Urdu and seemed to want me to read it; I guess a little facial growth and a shalwar kameez inclines people to believe you’re Pakistani or at least share their language [I think this is the third time in six months I’ve been ‘confused’ for a local].

4. People pray without ruku and sujood (see steps 3 and 5). An older gentleman next to me did not bend in half (ruku) nor place his forehead to the floor (sujood), but rather sat on a white
plastic stool he brought and bent over as best he could. The required actions of prayer are really not required if one cannot perform them; fundamentalism does not grip most Muslims into believing so, but rather recommends them emulate the prophets to the best of one’s ability. In this case, this was sitting on a stool and leaning as far forward as he could shoulder-to-shoulder amongst his brothers.

5. I have the potential to make others unsettled. It is typical for people to perform extra prayers and to remain in the shoulder-to-shoulder lines. This arrangement of people is supposedly to keep the devil from wedging in between fellow worshipers, but it makes it quite difficult to leave unless you’re in the last row at the back. Many people perform prayers they missed earlier in the day or superogatory (extra) prayers by again cycling through standing, ruku, sujood, and kneeling, or they remain in the kneeling position seated upon their ankles. Well, I still find long periods on my ankles to be painful and I decided to stand. Maybe ten minutes later, a man approached me with excellent English and asked if something was wrong or if I knew how to pray. I told him I knew how to pray but not the words (which I’ve been quite stubborn to learn). He told me that people behind me were talking about why I stood for so long without praying – I had apparently worried them. Since the area had cleaned out a little by then, I took a seat in the more comfortable American Indian-style and thought about how remarkable it was that they were more fearful of how I’d act than I was of their actions on this reportedly politically tense day.

Well, there was never a protest, demonstration, or otherwise from this juma prayer. In fact, there was not a protest from any quarter in Islamabad on this day. I think it is our U.S. Regional Security Officer (RSO) that makes people tense about these Friday prayers. Is there potential for activism here? Yes, I half expected one to happen – but the actuality of feared demonstrations once again is blown out of proportion.

I exited the mosque believing in my community. I believe my neighbors are kind and humane. I believe that religions all promote harmony and understanding the larger picture. I believe there is reason to question the fanaticism in the media. [Yes, I believe in safety and caution. I went with friends to the mosque and never took my camera out for pictures. However, there must be a balance between the absolute fear of things associated with terrorism and the mutual ignorance and apathy towards the same things].