ISLAM'S GREAT SECTS.

Auckland Star, Volume LXVI, Issue 164, 13 July 1935, Page 10 (Supplement)

ISLAM'S GREAT SECTS.

MOVE FOR REUNION.

SUNNIS AND SHIAHS,

A MOSLEM PASSION PLAY.

An attempt is being made in London to bring together the two great sections of Islam, the Sunnis and the Shiahs. The schism between the two is rather political than religious in origin, for it derives from the Shiahs' insistence that the Caliph should not be elected, but should descend direct from Ali, the fourth Caliph and the son-in-law of the Prophet Mohammed. The Shiahs thus repudiate the elected Caliphs of the Sunnis. Later, theological differences were added to demarcate the two sects —the Shiahs (Shiat Ali, or "Party of Ali") from the orthodox Moslems. It so happens that this endeavour to reunite Islam was made in the month of Muhurrum, when Shiah fanaticism is at its intensest, and when a kind of ecstasy is attained by the adherents of Ali, which is, to say the least, apt to be dangerous to the public peace. Not of this move for reunion, however, would I here write but of the renowned Passion Play of Muhurrum. It concerns chiefly India, where there are perhaps 5,000,000 Shiahs; Persia, which is wholly Shiah; and Iraq, which, though rather less than half Shiah, possesses the four Holy Cities of the Shiahs, Nejef, Kerbela, Samarra, and Kazimain. The month of Muhurrum, which is the j first month of the Moslem year, is for the Shiahs the Month of Mourning. In the year 680 A.D. their holy Imam Hussein, the son of Ali and the grandson of the Prophet Mohammed, was, during this month of Muhurrum, slain upon the tragic field of Kerbela. Even now it is the ambition of every Shiah to have his corpse conveyed and buried in Kerbela, or, at any rate, in one of the Holy Cities in Iraq. Deep Lamentation. * At the time of Muhurrum each town and village go into deep lamentation. The commemoration can be compared only with the Miracle Plays of the Middle Ages or the Passion-Plays of Oberammergau; and they are, if cruder, intenser and more fanatical than these. As night falls drums are heard and processions gather by the mosques. The faithful Shiahs, recalling this time of martyrdom, work themselves into a,

frenzy of remembrance, beating their breasts and flaying their bare backs with chains. Torches and petroleum flares are waved aloft in the darkness, and savage, piercing cries are ejaculated. The processions gather momentum and density. Richly caparisoned horses are led along, often bearing steel helmetß transfixed 4 with arrows—a replica of the Kerbela battlefield. A man riding on a horse, dressed in Persian armour, represents Hussein, all of whose fol« lowers are attired in green. Near them are the representatives of Shimr, the execrated wretch who is supposed actually to have killed Hussein; these are dressed in red. At intervals a halt is made, and ecstatical cries of "Ya. Hasan! Ya Hussein!" rend the air. The principal per formers are now beyond themselves. Their eyes seem not on this world, but fixed irrevocably on the tragic plains of Iraq, where the encounter they are now rehearsing occurred over 1000 years ago. "Day of Martyrdom." On the eighth day of Muhurrum the processions become yet more elaborate. The dead bodies of the heroes of this "Day of Martyrdom" are carried along in the procession. Those who behold these "corpses" are worked up into piteous grief. Hussein's "blood" is freely shown; and a girl representing his little daughter flings her caresses over the body amid horrifying wails. By the tenth day the Shiahs are in no ordinary mood, and it behoves the foreigner in their vicinity to be careful not to divert their attention from the celebrations. On this day is commemorated the supreme catastrophe. The pageant is now larger than ever, and contains more episodes. The whole story of Hussein's martyrdom is re-enacted—the departure from Mecca of his gallant little band in response to the Kufans' requests, the hunger and thirst of the desert, the fight, the death —not a step in Imam's last days on earth is missed. Each available drop of emotion from his life story is squeezed out. For this culminating ceremony, chanting mullahs (a kind of priest, though Islam has no priests) lead the way. Then come the breast-beaters and the chain-beaters, dressed in wide black trousers. The heads and faces of the flagellants are smeared with clay and their shrouds are stained with blood. Other men gash themselves with knives. Such stains and such wounds are afterwards honourably cherished. By the side of the road the densely packed women and children scream and wail. Realistic representation could go no further. It is a people in tears, wrought up almost beyond bearing.—Kenneth Williams in the "London Observer."