Wanderlust and Wahi

Righteousness is not that you turn your faces toward the east or the west, but [true] righteousness is [in] one who believes in Allah , the Last Day, the angels, the Book, and the prophets and gives wealth, in spite of love for it, to relatives, orphans, the needy, the traveler, those who ask [for help], and for freeing slaves; [and who] establishes prayer and gives zakah; [those who] fulfill their promise when they promise; and [those who] are patient in poverty and hardship and during battle. Those are the ones who have been true, and it is those who are the righteous. – Quran 2:177 (Sahih International)

This verse from the surat l-baqarah touches upon the theme of the role and significance of rituals in religion and ties in with the cultural studies approach that we have so often called upon during class. Essentially this verse explains that merely performing rituals does not make you a person of faith, but that faith and righteousness is an internal journey. I experienced this firsthand when attempting to imitate what has come to be known in the western world as “Sufi Dance” or the ritual of the Whirling Dervishes. Not only was my attempt at whirling physically taxing, but it showcased firsthand that merely performing a ritual does not necessarily give you a better understanding of Islam or a closer proximity to God.

By watching videos of Sufis practicing zikr and being especially mindful of the fact that for the Sufis this is not merely a dance but a worship ritual and form of meditation, I attempted to imitate their movements.  I quickly noticed that the music and whirling begin at an initially slow pace and gradually speed up, with the “dancer” gradually unraveling their crossed arms into a specific position. The positioning of the hands is symbolic: the left hand points down toward the earth and the right hand points up to the heavens, symbolizing the “dancer’s” metaphysical state. The rhythmic music, clapping, and dikr or recitation of words like “Allah” are meant to create an ambience that allows the “dancer” to meditate on God in hopes of experiencing Haqiqah (“the real”), in other words seeing the Divine. The idea of seeing the divine is present in the Quran through verses like “Wherever you turn there will be the face of God” (2:115), and is connected to the Sufi notion of “batin” or inner/hidden meanings in the Quran. Here one can thinking of seeing God with the heart rather than with the eyes.

The Sufi’s longing for God is represented by the whirling, which tests the corporeal body, the desires and needs of which must be tamed before the Sufi can approach the Divine (Asani, “Music and Dance in the Work of Jalal ad-Din Rumi”). In the documentary we watched in class on Sufi whirling dervishes, the pir mentions that in the “dance” there is an experience hidden form the viewer: that the whirling is akin to circling the whole universe, and that the entire universe is engaged in recitation.

Through my own experience doing this dance, I realized how much discipline and self-control it requires. I barely made it through a minute and a half before the dizziness overcame me and the newness of the experience of whirling wore off. It became clear to me that in order to whirl for many minutes on end it requires an inner strength and faith – one that cannot be gained just by practicing the whirling with no goal or end in sight. Thus performing the rituals of Islam does not necessarily make for a pious Muslim…