Celebrating Ashoura: Hizbullah vs Amal
1. COMMEMORATION IN DAHIYE WITH HIZBULLAH:
Early on the very wet morning of Thursday 9, Marcia, Katherine and I headed to the most densely populated Shia neighborhood in southern Beirut. We aimed to attend the Hizbullah Ashoura commemoration in Dahieh.
Ashoura is the 10th (Ashra 10 in arabic) day which celebrates the martyrdom of the grandson of Mohamed, Imam Hussein in 680 AD. This event is (correct me if I am wrong) marks the begining of the schism between sunnism and shiism.
In a modern day context, the narration of the event is recited, told in poetry and reinacted in passion plays, and public rituals.
By the time we got to Dahieh, around 815 am, hords of people were walking in the street heading to watch and ultimately follow the procession. At one of the mosques, an Iman voice was broadcast throughout the street reading scriptures. In response to the recitation, you could hear group wailing and moaning over the death of Hussein.
As we kept on walking toward the main artery were the protest was to take place, we went through a check point.
Our Druze driver, Atif, going through the male side was clearly uncomfortable looking tense and taking deep breaths. This, in his 58 years of living in Lebanon, was his first time attending Ashoura, and probably the first time in the midst of the Shia community led by Hizbullah.
Observing his discomfort, the girls and I agreed with him that he would wait for us at a street corner, while we headed in to one of the veins feeding into the procession. Reports said 1 million people attended the event.
It was the first time I ended up in a male/female segregated procession.
Women all had their hair covered, some of their headdress looking similar to what is worn in Iran. No make up, not tall, and mostly wearing black to mourn the death of Hussein, ladies marched in unison some pushing carriages, or weaving young children through the crowd. On our street alone the may have been up to 20,000 women if not more.
At different times, the ladies would start chanting: "Oh Hussein! Oh Prophet of God!", while thumping their right fists over their hearts.
Different from the male protest, the energy of the chant initially sounded soft, yet the chanting became more vigorous as we neared the male procession passing by perpendicular to our street.
Then repeating a recitation of an iman, the ladies sang different verses to end up throughout their right fist up above their heads yelling out: "We follow you Nassrallah! Death to Israel! Death to America!"
Walking with the crowd for about an hour, the three of us decided to head back, having gotten a pretty good sense of what to expect considering the shere mass of women inhibiting our ability to move in order to get a better view.
As we pushed our way throught the counter-current of female bodies, one lady surprised to see westerners asked whether I was muslim. Considering the numbers, and the mood of the event, I answered yes, and spoke a few words of Arabic to appease her.
With Katherine and Marcia, we agreed that we would watch the rest of procession on TV in a cafe so as to get better perspective of the procession. It turned out that it was lead by men carrying large photographic potraits of Khomeni, Nasrallah, and possibly Musa Al-Sadr. No matter Hizbullah being Lebanese, the opening photos of the procession clearly showed the movement strong allegiance to Iran.
By the time we reached Atif, he had not moved from the street corner. The poor thing stood hands dug deep in his pockets, baring the rain, and looking dour. His face lit up when he saw us, presumably relieved as it meant he was to be released from his position.
2. COMMEMORATION IN NABATIYEH WITH AMAL:
Driving to the southern part of the country, we arrived in the town of Nabatiyeh where Amal were commemorating Ashoura.
Differently from Hizbullah which seemed more militaristic in organization, the procession in Nabatyieh attended by die-hard followers was less socially intense but visually gruesome and bordering on surreal.
Men participating in the procession wore a white tunic over their clothers, and cut themselves right above their forehead with a knife so as the constant splatter of blood turned their white tunics red.
Moving along the street, slapping the tops of their foreheads with their right hands, and chanting rythmically the name of one of Hussein servant's who died in battle, the men in the procession seem to go into a strange form of ritualistic trance.
Along the edge of the street, onlookers held their noses to block the stench of the blood. Occasionally, a young man covered in blood, would leave his group, and come over to chat with some of the onlookers, while taking a sip of water, or passing on a message over a cell phone, before returning to the bleeding repenters.
As the day was soggy, foot stands offered melting Arab bread sandwiches, garbage accumulated on the street, and the tarmac glistened with rain water streaming red into gutters. A stand below drumming and recitations added to the noise of the rythmic chanting. I felt like I was at a strange type of religious fair. Maybe something as intense looking as the ritual of reinacting the crucifixion of Christ in the Philippines.
Despite the apparent gore of the scene, there was an incredible difference in the atmosphere between the Hizbullah commemoration and the Amal one.
The Amal procession looked terrifying, but the onlookers were wearing regular clothes, and people were chatting as if out on a Sunday walk. The event seemed more an expression of a male rites to passage, reinacting in a visceral yet folkloric way the death of Hussein.
By contrast, the Hizbullah procession which forbids its followers of any cutting ( a decree set forth by Khomeni when he came to power in Iran) was terrifying for its militaristic appearance, and diehard followers. The control Nasrallah, leader of Hizbullah, has over his followers is a site in itself.
If anything, Hezbollah comes across as a political force held together through a strong religious and militaristic over tone. Amal on the other hand, seemed more secular in appearance, and less organized on the ground. Granted, Amal retelling of Hussein martyrdom contextualized in the present day, was equally anti-Israeli, but somehow the crowd seemed less
threatening.
The contrast of the day is what made the whole experience so pertinent. I think it was a good insight on the Shia political forces, which I think will be a the center of Lebanese politics this spring.
Early on the very wet morning of Thursday 9, Marcia, Katherine and I headed to the most densely populated Shia neighborhood in southern Beirut. We aimed to attend the Hizbullah Ashoura commemoration in Dahieh.
Ashoura is the 10th (Ashra 10 in arabic) day which celebrates the martyrdom of the grandson of Mohamed, Imam Hussein in 680 AD. This event is (correct me if I am wrong) marks the begining of the schism between sunnism and shiism.
In a modern day context, the narration of the event is recited, told in poetry and reinacted in passion plays, and public rituals.
By the time we got to Dahieh, around 815 am, hords of people were walking in the street heading to watch and ultimately follow the procession. At one of the mosques, an Iman voice was broadcast throughout the street reading scriptures. In response to the recitation, you could hear group wailing and moaning over the death of Hussein.
As we kept on walking toward the main artery were the protest was to take place, we went through a check point.
Our Druze driver, Atif, going through the male side was clearly uncomfortable looking tense and taking deep breaths. This, in his 58 years of living in Lebanon, was his first time attending Ashoura, and probably the first time in the midst of the Shia community led by Hizbullah.
Observing his discomfort, the girls and I agreed with him that he would wait for us at a street corner, while we headed in to one of the veins feeding into the procession. Reports said 1 million people attended the event.
It was the first time I ended up in a male/female segregated procession.
Women all had their hair covered, some of their headdress looking similar to what is worn in Iran. No make up, not tall, and mostly wearing black to mourn the death of Hussein, ladies marched in unison some pushing carriages, or weaving young children through the crowd. On our street alone the may have been up to 20,000 women if not more.
At different times, the ladies would start chanting: "Oh Hussein! Oh Prophet of God!", while thumping their right fists over their hearts.
Different from the male protest, the energy of the chant initially sounded soft, yet the chanting became more vigorous as we neared the male procession passing by perpendicular to our street.
Then repeating a recitation of an iman, the ladies sang different verses to end up throughout their right fist up above their heads yelling out: "We follow you Nassrallah! Death to Israel! Death to America!"
Walking with the crowd for about an hour, the three of us decided to head back, having gotten a pretty good sense of what to expect considering the shere mass of women inhibiting our ability to move in order to get a better view.
As we pushed our way throught the counter-current of female bodies, one lady surprised to see westerners asked whether I was muslim. Considering the numbers, and the mood of the event, I answered yes, and spoke a few words of Arabic to appease her.
With Katherine and Marcia, we agreed that we would watch the rest of procession on TV in a cafe so as to get better perspective of the procession. It turned out that it was lead by men carrying large photographic potraits of Khomeni, Nasrallah, and possibly Musa Al-Sadr. No matter Hizbullah being Lebanese, the opening photos of the procession clearly showed the movement strong allegiance to Iran.
By the time we reached Atif, he had not moved from the street corner. The poor thing stood hands dug deep in his pockets, baring the rain, and looking dour. His face lit up when he saw us, presumably relieved as it meant he was to be released from his position.
2. COMMEMORATION IN NABATIYEH WITH AMAL:
Driving to the southern part of the country, we arrived in the town of Nabatiyeh where Amal were commemorating Ashoura.
Differently from Hizbullah which seemed more militaristic in organization, the procession in Nabatyieh attended by die-hard followers was less socially intense but visually gruesome and bordering on surreal.
Men participating in the procession wore a white tunic over their clothers, and cut themselves right above their forehead with a knife so as the constant splatter of blood turned their white tunics red.
Moving along the street, slapping the tops of their foreheads with their right hands, and chanting rythmically the name of one of Hussein servant's who died in battle, the men in the procession seem to go into a strange form of ritualistic trance.
Along the edge of the street, onlookers held their noses to block the stench of the blood. Occasionally, a young man covered in blood, would leave his group, and come over to chat with some of the onlookers, while taking a sip of water, or passing on a message over a cell phone, before returning to the bleeding repenters.
As the day was soggy, foot stands offered melting Arab bread sandwiches, garbage accumulated on the street, and the tarmac glistened with rain water streaming red into gutters. A stand below drumming and recitations added to the noise of the rythmic chanting. I felt like I was at a strange type of religious fair. Maybe something as intense looking as the ritual of reinacting the crucifixion of Christ in the Philippines.
Despite the apparent gore of the scene, there was an incredible difference in the atmosphere between the Hizbullah commemoration and the Amal one.
The Amal procession looked terrifying, but the onlookers were wearing regular clothes, and people were chatting as if out on a Sunday walk. The event seemed more an expression of a male rites to passage, reinacting in a visceral yet folkloric way the death of Hussein.
By contrast, the Hizbullah procession which forbids its followers of any cutting ( a decree set forth by Khomeni when he came to power in Iran) was terrifying for its militaristic appearance, and diehard followers. The control Nasrallah, leader of Hizbullah, has over his followers is a site in itself.
If anything, Hezbollah comes across as a political force held together through a strong religious and militaristic over tone. Amal on the other hand, seemed more secular in appearance, and less organized on the ground. Granted, Amal retelling of Hussein martyrdom contextualized in the present day, was equally anti-Israeli, but somehow the crowd seemed less
threatening.
The contrast of the day is what made the whole experience so pertinent. I think it was a good insight on the Shia political forces, which I think will be a the center of Lebanese politics this spring.
posted by Irina Prentice at 2:05 AM
2 Comments:
Ashora is a event celebrated from almost 1400 years ago.
People may wonder that how this is possible that man/ women/ child weep like Hussain die today.
This is the power of asuhra thats bring enlighten for those who r fighting against opperession, evil. I have a strong belief that no other event in history has such power which ashura has.
Imam hussain a source of inspiration of millions of people in this world, no matter shia sunni, hindu, chirstan, charles dicken, ghandi, read their comments abt the event.
One day the world will know the power of ashura.
What are you doing in Beirut most of the time? Studying? Working? Student of life?
Post a Comment
<< Home