Understanding al-Lah

“It may be boldly asserted that no people in the world give the impression of being so religious-minded as the Moslems. All of life is saturated with the consciousness of God.”

- Charles R. Watson, in “What is this Moslem World?” 1937

I recently realized that, aside from brief references in passing, I haven’t taken the time to write about religion or its influence on daily life in this country. Perhaps it’s because it has taken me this long to begin to understand the extent to which it permeates even the most unlikely of everyday activities, from visits to the market to daily routines in the office. Whatever the reason may be, I felt it was time to try to enunciate my initial impressions and observations. It will be interesting to see how they evolve over the next five months.

If this was a more traditionalist or, dare I say, fundamentalist Muslim nation such as Pakistan, Iran or Afghanistan, I would assume that my first conversation about religion with a local would have played itself out quite differently. Knowing that Bangladesh is characterized by its moderation, however, I felt at ease to speak relatively freely with one of the guys at the front desk at my former hotel about my own background and approach to religion in general. I’m still not quite sure why he initiated the conversation with a question about my own religious beliefs as I sat in the lobby waiting to use their one and only computer with an internet connection, but I decided to jump in regardless of his intentions. I had been told in one of my training sessions before departure that it would be best to remain as neutral as possible in any conversation about religion, but I soon realized that this would be next to impossible. Not only do I hate to conceal my opinions when the opportunity to let them be heard is in front of me, (as many of you already know) but in a country such as this where you’re most likely to be Muslim (84-86%), somewhat likely to be Hindu (12-14%), and unlikely to be Christian (less than 2%), being religiously 'neutral' isn't even an option.

I’m not necessarily an atheist, but I have difficulty believing in the existence of a clearly identifiable ‘higher being’ who I should revere and from whom I should seek guidance and assistance. Humanism, what I understand to be a belief not in the idea of God personified, but instead as a spiritual presence in the natural world, offers a set of ideas with which I can much more easily identify. Trying to explain this to my friend at the hotel in slow and simplified English, however, was perhaps more difficult than proving the existence of a supernatural being, however it may be perceived. While the perpetual language barrier turns any conversation into a test of patience, it is a conceptual barrier that takes precedence in this case. Karen Armstrong, in “A History of God”, offers a perfect explanation of what I mean by this conceptual barrier:

“ The existence of God is not in question. In the Koran an “unbeliever” (kafir bi na’mat al-Lah) is not an atheist in our sense of the word, somebody who does not believe in God, but one who is ungrateful to him, who can see quite clearly what is owing to God but refuses to honour him in a spirit of perverse ingratitude.” (142)

With this in mind, you can begin to understand the challenge of explaining my approach to religion and spirituality to a confused front-desk manager with a limited command of English while trying not to step on too many of his potentially sensitive toes. While most Bangladeshis seem quite reluctant to openly display their frustrations or disgust with a foreigner under any circumstances, I’m quite sure I succeeded in not having to have him choose whether or not to do so in the first place.

Despite my own religious, or rather, secular convictions, I have a profound respect for the peaceful devotion to religion that’s exhibited by the vast majority of individuals in this country. While I have my misgivings, which I’ll get into later, the product of such devotion is a community of individuals who value the well being of their fellow man above their own. With the poverty and extreme inequality that exists here, however, this might be a difficult statement to believe; the egalitarianism propounded by Islam seems to be practiced by those who have the means to do so, and no amount of redistribution at the individual level (a portion of one man’s income going into the pocket of another man) will be able fix the structural problems that are confining so many millions to a life of destitution. Once again I turn to Armstrong, who argues, “the early moral message of the Koran is simple: it is wrong to stockpile wealth and to build a private fortune, and good to share the wealth of society fairly by giving a regular proportion of one’s wealth to the poor.”(143). Given the fact that this predominantly Muslim nation is consistently ranked amongst the top three of the world’s most corrupt countries and in the bottom sixth in terms of wealth, it seems as though it’s not a problem of theory, but instead one of application and reality.

Regardless of the existence of such major shortfalls, and perhaps because of them, the egalitarian appeal of Islam provides invaluable hope to each and every one of its devoted followers, regardless of their individual circumstances in life. This is never more apparent than during the recitation of one of the five daily prayers emanating from the loudspeakers of any of the hundreds of mosques throughout the city. For a less-than-religious foreigner living in between two of them, listening to each recitation proves to be a disarming and perpetually moving experience. You can guess who wrote: “Muslims often say that when they hear the Koran chanted in the mosque they feel enveloped in a divine dimension of sound”; I feel the same way each and every time, despite only being able to pick out “al-Lah” and “ak-bar”, and particularly when I’m looking out my fifteenth story window into the darkness of a Dhaka night.

**I have more to say about Islam's impact on daily life, women in (or out) of the public sphere and, more generally, on religion's influence on politics in Bangladesh, but I'll save that for another installment. With Ramadan just around the corner, it shouldn't take long for that entry to make its appearance.

Oh, and I've posted a handful of pictures from the "Prime Minister's U-21 Gold Cup of Hockey" championship match between India and Bangladesh that I had the pleasure of attending on Wednesday. The home team lost 3-1, but it was clear that the better team won. Upon stepping out of the stadium, I ventured into a nearby sporting goods shop to find, amidst the cricket bats, some high quality Grays field hockey sticks for only 800 taka, about $17 CAD (they retail for $120-$170 in Canada). It's likely that I'll be picking one up for myself and I've already taken an order from my sister - now all I have to do is find a way to fit them into my suitcase.