Shia Muslims safer in other countries than Pakistan
The room glowed with the warm, soothing rays of the soft Nordic sun pouring through the octagonal glassed ceiling, creating an ambiance almost surreal. Sitting near a wall adorned with calligraphy of Quranic verses painted on ceramic tiles, two men waited patiently for the Friday prayers to begin. Around 15 minutes later, over 20 more men had joined them. They lined up in rows behind the prayer leader and raised their hands to their ears for the takbir – whispering Allahu Akbar to commence the prayers. The worshippers then lowered their hands to their sides – except one elderly gentleman. He placed his hands just above the waist in accordance with the Sunni tradition.
He is Dr Ghulam Hussain, a Pakistani politician and one of the few Sunni Muslims who come to pray at the Zainabiya Islamic Centre in Marsta, a serene town just outside the Swedish capital of Stockholm.
The centre houses a Shia mosque – or an imambargah – but for the almost octogenarian Dr Hussain who arrives there with the help of a walker, that does not count. “Ritualism is for maulvis,” he says. “It is spiritualism that truly connects you to God.”
Dr Hussain was a close ally of Pakistan’s former prime minister, the late Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, and one of the founding members of the Pakistan People’s Party. He served as the party’s general secretary and a member of the national assembly. But fate took a cruel twist with General Ziaul Haq-led military takeover, Bhutto’s hanging and the persecution of PPP activists. In 1981, Al-Zulfikar, a resistance organisation formed by Bhutto’s son Murtaza Bhutto, hijacked a plane on which Dr Hussain was one of the passengers. Dr Hussain says that he had nothing to do with the hijacking but, nevertheless, he was forced to live in asylum in Europe for years after that. He is currently affiliated with the Pakistan People’s Party-Shaheed Bhutto which is headed by Murtaza’s widow, Ghinwa Bhutto.
“Sweden is the world’s best socio-welfare state,” he speaks about his adopted home country. “It eradicated poverty and illiteracy, and invested in human development.”
For the Shia Muslims who pray at the Zainabiya Islamic Centre, Dr Hussain is always a welcome sight. They reciprocate the respect that he gives them with deep affection. He keeps their hope alive that the great Shia-Sunni divide will bridge some day.
Dr Zakir Hussein, the prayer leader at the mosque, holds Dr Hussain in high esteem. “In fact, it just doesn’t feel the same when he’s not around,” the allama who is nearing his 70s says with a smile.
And sure enough, Dr Hussain’s joyful demeanour and countless tales always attract him a small audience after the prayers.
There is a Sunni mosque nearby too. But Dr Hussain believes that the Zainabiya Islamic Centre caters better to his spiritual needs. “When Muslims perform Hajj, they all pray together no matter if they are Sunni or Shia,” he notes.
“Whether they have their hands folded or not, all pilgrims are lined up together in rows. The Shia-Sunni divide doesn’t exist there.”
Over 3,000 miles away, amid overtaking vehicles whizzing by in the orange haze of streetlights dotting the Sharea Faisal, a busy thoroughfare of Karachi, Mohammad Asim, a mild-mannered employee of a private firm in his mid-30s, like any good driver, hardly takes his eyes off the road as he speaks.
“Do you have any idea what goes on at Shia majalis?” he asks in his soft, low-pitched voice only to reply himself a few seconds later.
His utterances in the next few minutes that are too vile to be mentioned here are shocking – not because they are true, but the fact that they coming from an educated person of a decent demeanour is both perplexing and disturbing.
For Asim, praying at a Shia mosque is unimaginable. In fact, he also avoids praying at the mosques of Sunni sects other than his. By no means does Asim appear anywhere close to the classically perceived figure of a bearded religious fanatic whose bloodshot, wide-opened eyes are brimming with rage as he shouts the battle cry of jihad. Asim is the complete opposite of that – hardly seen with a stubble, mostly dressed in Western attire and smiling more times than not.
He does not live holed up in a cave somewhere in the rugged terrain of the country’s tribal belt and neither has he spent time at a madrasa run by a hate-mongering mullah. He lives in Karachi, the financial capital of Pakistan, watches movies, listens to songs and enjoys outings with his family on weekends.
Nevertheless, folding hands during prayers or not does matter to him. And until it does, members of the Shia community will continue to live in constant fear for their lives in Pakistan, a country that was founded on the very principle of providing a secure homeland to the Muslims of the Indian subcontinent.
The story became possible through a grant provided by the International Center for Journalists under the Henry Luce Foundation Program to Promote Excellence in Global Coverage of Religion
By: Bilal Farooqi
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