By Yahya Barzanji - Associated Press/Wilmington Morning Star
Tuesday, 25 April, 2006
In Barzanja (Iraq), a mystical Sufi adherent aims to show that in his enrapture with God he is beyond pain.
The dervishes swayed with the drumbeat, flinging their long hair and chanting "Allah, Allah." Nearby others were showing, as one put it, their "passion for God": one drove a skewer through his cheek, another chewed on a light bulb, crunching the glass in his mouth. The aim is for the Sufi – an adherent to Islam’s mystical branch – to show that in his enrapture with God he is beyond pain.
They were among more than 1,000 men and women from across northern Iraq’s Kurdistan region and from Kurdish towns in neighboring Iran who came for an annual gathering in this town 15 miles east of Sulaimaniyah. The gathering has grown since last year, when several hundred showed up – a sign that adherents are less afraid of Islamic militants who have harassed Sufis in the past because they consider their practices heretical.
"The growth has been continual since the acts of violence have eased," Sheik Qader Kakhama al-Kasnazani, the spiritual leader of the Kasnazaniyah Sufi order, said at Friday’s "hadra," a gathering to honor a revered religious figure.
The autonomous Kurdish region in Iraq’s north has been largely spared from the violent insurgency that has bloodied the rest of the country, although the area has seen activity in the past by Islamic militants, some with suspected al-Qaida links.
The Sufis also have encouragement from the Kurdistan regional government, which supports Sufi groups because they are apolitical and are seen as a counterbalance to extremists. Among the populace, the groups draw followers from educated upper classes down to the impoverished.
"The soul always needs elevating," said Ahmed Rahman, 24, an engineering student. "So when I become an engineer, I’ll remain a dervish. Even if I became president, I’d remain a dervish."
Hundreds of thousands of Sufis across the Islamic world – both Sunnis and Shiites, since the mystical trend crosses Islam’s sectarian divide – adhere to numerous orders and suborders, each following a particular sheik or spiritual teacher.
Though each school has its own practices, most seek a mystical closeness to God through meditative chants and dancing. Some, like the Kasnazaniyah, also pierce their bodies with skewers, knives and glass. One man at Friday’s ceremony drove a skewer through the bottom of his mouth and out his chin. Others had shirts stained with their own blood from cuts on their tongue.
The ceremony was held throughout the day in an outdoor sports center.
To the beat of drums, dervishes – some dressed in traditional Kurdish garb – swayed to and fro, repeating God’s name, in a circle called a "halqa." The 67-year-old Sheik Qader threw himself among them, joining the chant. Nearby, several dozen women were holding their own, separate halqa.
Ibrahim Por-Maliki, the youngest dervish at 16, had come from the Iranian town of Marivan, about 30 miles away, to join the halqa – though he was staying away from the knives. "I’d like to get to that stage," he said. "But my mother let my come only on condition I don’t hit or cut myself."
Friday, October 20, 2006
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Friday, October 20, 2006
Iraqi Sufi dervishes gather, chant, dance, pierce selves
By Yahya Barzanji - Associated Press/Wilmington Morning Star
Tuesday, 25 April, 2006
In Barzanja (Iraq), a mystical Sufi adherent aims to show that in his enrapture with God he is beyond pain.
The dervishes swayed with the drumbeat, flinging their long hair and chanting "Allah, Allah." Nearby others were showing, as one put it, their "passion for God": one drove a skewer through his cheek, another chewed on a light bulb, crunching the glass in his mouth. The aim is for the Sufi – an adherent to Islam’s mystical branch – to show that in his enrapture with God he is beyond pain.
They were among more than 1,000 men and women from across northern Iraq’s Kurdistan region and from Kurdish towns in neighboring Iran who came for an annual gathering in this town 15 miles east of Sulaimaniyah. The gathering has grown since last year, when several hundred showed up – a sign that adherents are less afraid of Islamic militants who have harassed Sufis in the past because they consider their practices heretical.
"The growth has been continual since the acts of violence have eased," Sheik Qader Kakhama al-Kasnazani, the spiritual leader of the Kasnazaniyah Sufi order, said at Friday’s "hadra," a gathering to honor a revered religious figure.
The autonomous Kurdish region in Iraq’s north has been largely spared from the violent insurgency that has bloodied the rest of the country, although the area has seen activity in the past by Islamic militants, some with suspected al-Qaida links.
The Sufis also have encouragement from the Kurdistan regional government, which supports Sufi groups because they are apolitical and are seen as a counterbalance to extremists. Among the populace, the groups draw followers from educated upper classes down to the impoverished.
"The soul always needs elevating," said Ahmed Rahman, 24, an engineering student. "So when I become an engineer, I’ll remain a dervish. Even if I became president, I’d remain a dervish."
Hundreds of thousands of Sufis across the Islamic world – both Sunnis and Shiites, since the mystical trend crosses Islam’s sectarian divide – adhere to numerous orders and suborders, each following a particular sheik or spiritual teacher.
Though each school has its own practices, most seek a mystical closeness to God through meditative chants and dancing. Some, like the Kasnazaniyah, also pierce their bodies with skewers, knives and glass. One man at Friday’s ceremony drove a skewer through the bottom of his mouth and out his chin. Others had shirts stained with their own blood from cuts on their tongue.
The ceremony was held throughout the day in an outdoor sports center.
To the beat of drums, dervishes – some dressed in traditional Kurdish garb – swayed to and fro, repeating God’s name, in a circle called a "halqa." The 67-year-old Sheik Qader threw himself among them, joining the chant. Nearby, several dozen women were holding their own, separate halqa.
Ibrahim Por-Maliki, the youngest dervish at 16, had come from the Iranian town of Marivan, about 30 miles away, to join the halqa – though he was staying away from the knives. "I’d like to get to that stage," he said. "But my mother let my come only on condition I don’t hit or cut myself."
Tuesday, 25 April, 2006
In Barzanja (Iraq), a mystical Sufi adherent aims to show that in his enrapture with God he is beyond pain.
The dervishes swayed with the drumbeat, flinging their long hair and chanting "Allah, Allah." Nearby others were showing, as one put it, their "passion for God": one drove a skewer through his cheek, another chewed on a light bulb, crunching the glass in his mouth. The aim is for the Sufi – an adherent to Islam’s mystical branch – to show that in his enrapture with God he is beyond pain.
They were among more than 1,000 men and women from across northern Iraq’s Kurdistan region and from Kurdish towns in neighboring Iran who came for an annual gathering in this town 15 miles east of Sulaimaniyah. The gathering has grown since last year, when several hundred showed up – a sign that adherents are less afraid of Islamic militants who have harassed Sufis in the past because they consider their practices heretical.
"The growth has been continual since the acts of violence have eased," Sheik Qader Kakhama al-Kasnazani, the spiritual leader of the Kasnazaniyah Sufi order, said at Friday’s "hadra," a gathering to honor a revered religious figure.
The autonomous Kurdish region in Iraq’s north has been largely spared from the violent insurgency that has bloodied the rest of the country, although the area has seen activity in the past by Islamic militants, some with suspected al-Qaida links.
The Sufis also have encouragement from the Kurdistan regional government, which supports Sufi groups because they are apolitical and are seen as a counterbalance to extremists. Among the populace, the groups draw followers from educated upper classes down to the impoverished.
"The soul always needs elevating," said Ahmed Rahman, 24, an engineering student. "So when I become an engineer, I’ll remain a dervish. Even if I became president, I’d remain a dervish."
Hundreds of thousands of Sufis across the Islamic world – both Sunnis and Shiites, since the mystical trend crosses Islam’s sectarian divide – adhere to numerous orders and suborders, each following a particular sheik or spiritual teacher.
Though each school has its own practices, most seek a mystical closeness to God through meditative chants and dancing. Some, like the Kasnazaniyah, also pierce their bodies with skewers, knives and glass. One man at Friday’s ceremony drove a skewer through the bottom of his mouth and out his chin. Others had shirts stained with their own blood from cuts on their tongue.
The ceremony was held throughout the day in an outdoor sports center.
To the beat of drums, dervishes – some dressed in traditional Kurdish garb – swayed to and fro, repeating God’s name, in a circle called a "halqa." The 67-year-old Sheik Qader threw himself among them, joining the chant. Nearby, several dozen women were holding their own, separate halqa.
Ibrahim Por-Maliki, the youngest dervish at 16, had come from the Iranian town of Marivan, about 30 miles away, to join the halqa – though he was staying away from the knives. "I’d like to get to that stage," he said. "But my mother let my come only on condition I don’t hit or cut myself."
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