Travelling North on the N1 between Pretoria and Johannesburg, the busiest motorway in South Africa, the familiar green and purple glow can be seen in the East as one approaches Midrand, a strategically situated midway between South Africa’s capital city and its financial hub. Now a landmark, it is perhaps the most striking and iconic feature in the Midrand skyline. Perched atop a hill, the majestic sight has become a calm, steadying presence for many.

The Nizamiye Mosque Complex, which was inaugurated by former President Jacob Zuma in 2012, remains an architectural wonder; its intricacy and exquisiteness convey a labour of love. The thought and care that were poured into its planning, construction, and even site choice resulted in a setting that is so sublime that one immediately feels it welcoming them into an atmosphere that is most conducive to establishing communion between the Creator and creation.

I had a highly refreshing and pleasant experience during a recent visit to the Complex. Apart from being enveloped by a deep sense of serenity and spiritual joy, I was overwhelmed by an environment that was unreservedly warm, unrestrictive, and one that drew the visitor into its very heart. My afternoon at the masjid led me down a path of reflection about the true role of the masjid in society, as it relates to the mosque of the Prophet, the Masjid al-Nabawi in the blessed city of Medina.

The anatomy and function of Nizamiye is particularly interesting and unique within South Africa’s context. The complex houses various facilities and services that include a boarding school, clinic,  bazaar, a restaurant, a halal butchery, and a motley of stores. Collectively, these facilities have provided a central meeting place for the local community where older people can sip Turkish tea in between prayers, younger adults hang out, and children run around and play in a safe environment while their parents shop or chat.

The clinic has a particularly interesting and significant origin. Ali Katircioglu, the Turkish businessman and philanthropist responsible for the construction and financing of the masjid, was advised by former President Nelson Mandela to include a clinic in the complex, so that it could better serve the local community. Uncle Ali (as he is fondly known in South Africa) readily agreed.

The design and operation of the complex has ensured that respect, decency, and etiquette are observed and maintained without the atmosphere feeling stifling or restrictive. As a mother, it was especially comforting and heart-warming to witness children in a state of pure bliss while playing freely in the masjid courtyard and other open spaces of the complex. The culture of mosques in South Africa has evolved such that many restrictions prevail within other Islamic centres and are sometimes mistaken for being part of Islamic law. This has created a perception of the masjid as a place to be kept sterile and silent at all times and its role reduced to physical worship alone, which has caused decline in attendance over time. By contrast, the strong community centre aspect offered by Nizamiye is both appealing and comforting as well.

My visit caused me to reflect upon the Prophet Muhammad’s, peace be upon him, masjid in Medina and to ask myself a number of questions such as; what was the purpose of that first masjid? What is the wider role of the masjid in Islam and in society? Do masajid in South Africa truly realise these objectives and roles? In order to realize the great significance and value of the masjid in community-building, we must reflect on the Prophet’s very first task upon reaching the blessed city of Medina: the establishment of a masjid, a centre for and from where to build the first-ever Muslim community. This masjid environment was an active one, supporting the activities of the community, with the life of this emerging and flourishing community taking shape around this masjid.

Children are often being blamed for disrupting sacred rituals in mosques in South Africa and other countries, thus causing many Muslim communities to actively discourage them from going to the masjid. This is despite the historical fact that the Messenger of God engaged with children, entertained them, and even allowed his grandchildren to jump on his back when he prayed or to sit next to him on the minbar when he delivered a khutbah (sermon), in his original masjid. That first masjid catered to the medical needs of the wounded, served as a place where diplomats and dignitaries were received, and was a space for celebration and enjoyment. Once during an eid celebration some Ethiopian visitors were playing in the mosque displaying their skills with spears inside the masjid. The Prophet watched them with his wife Aisha as they played, and even asked Umar to leave them alone, when he wanted to stop them (Bukhari).

South African Muslim communities must guard against defining the masjid through a narrow lens that strays from the original model of the masjid. We have already witnessed in some communities that the imposition of such restrictions has caused some masajid to lose their value to, and impact upon, the members of those communities. This is especially the case in a country where Muslims are a minority and the masjid needs to function as a source of nourishment, like a heart pumping blood into its community. The Nizamiye founders recognised this vital role of the masjid and the complex in Midrand has realised the masjid’s potential to build community spirit and awareness. As a South African, I am truly humbled by the contribution made to this country by such an inclusive, open, and welcoming space.

Caption

1. Nkosazana Dlamini-Zuma, South African Minister of Cooperative Governance and Traditional Affairs. She visited the Nizamiye Complex in November 23, 2015, when she was the Chairperson of the African Union Commission. 2) Ali Katircioglu is welcoming kids at the mosque during after an eid prayer. 3) Nizamiye Complex is a venue for many community events, including iftar dinners.

A visit to a mosque and a simple gesture of kindness remind the author that, despite what the news might report, people of different faiths have far more similarities than differences.
Be kind, for wherever kindness becomes a part of something, it beautifies it; wherever it is taken from something, it leaves it tarnished. (Bukhari, Hadith of the Prophet Muhammad (pbuh))

As part of a course on the Religions of Abraham that I teach at St. Joseph’s College, I regularly require students to visit a mosque. This past fall we visited Masjid Umar Bin Khattaab in Shirley, NY, which is in close proximity to our Patchogue campus. The students were welcomed by Imam Mehdad Islam, a friend and also a student at St. Joseph’s. We all sat in a circle on the masjid floor for an informal question and answer session. As we did so, a gentleman was praying alone in a corner of the mosque. After he finished praying, he joined the circle and then proceeded to ask if anyone in the group wanted some tea. It was a cold and rainy November afternoon, and although tea would have been welcomed by many, no one wanted to ask. Finally, not wanting to offend the kind gentleman, I said yes. Immediately several other students also said they would love some. We all thought that there was a kitchen in the back where he would prepare the tea. Much to our surprise, he said that he was going across the street to a local 7-11 and that he would be back shortly. Ten minutes later, he returned soaking wet with eight cups of hot tea! While students gained a lot of valuable information from their conversation with the imam, by far the greatest lesson they learned that day was from the kind deed of this unnamed man. It left a lasting impression of kindness, simply through serving us tea.

This experience has stayed with me, especially as the media’s constant bombardment has made us all too familiar with the examples of hatred and cruelty that human beings are capable of perpetrating against one another, often in the name of religion. Such actions support the negative stereotypes of religion held by many. The religion of Islam in particular is often maligned by many of these negative stereotypes. Sadly, the many examples of goodness and kindness extended by Muslims in the name of their faith often go untold. In this article, I would like to share the story of four examples of genuine kindness among everyday Muslims who are true examples of the “beautiful souls” written about by Eyal Press in his book of the same title. I offer them as four cups of tea that are reminders of the many deeds of kindness and courage that often go unnoticed in the daily barrage of negative publicity we are all exposed to.

The practice of kindness and generosity is central to Islam and goes back to the hadith and sunnah of the Prophet (reports of his traditions, sayings, and things that he approved). One little known example is the so called “Ashtiname of Muhammad.” High atop Mt. Sinai in the Sinai desert there stands, as it has for centuries, the Monastery of St. Catherine. It was built on the site where Christians believe God gave the tablets of the law to the Prophet Moses (pbuh). In a gesture of true kindness and brotherhood Muhammad (pbuh) is believed to have issued a decree that the monks of this monastery would enjoy the protection of Muslims for all time. The decree, known as the Ashtiname, reads in part:

If any monk or pilgrim entrench himself in mountain, valley, cave, township, level, sand or church, I shall be behind them defending them from any that shall envy them, by myself, my helpers, my people, my sect, and my followers, inasmuch as they are my subjects and the people of my covenant.^[1]

To this day, visitors to the monastery can read firsthand what is believed to be the original decree.^[2] It is powerful reminder of the kindness of the Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) to the monks of the monastery and the surrounding region.

More recently, the kindness of many “righteous Muslims,” has been recognized by the Israeli government at the Holocaust Memorial of Yad Vashem in Jerusalem. It is a little known fact that among the 20,000 men and women who have been recognized by the Israeli government as “Righteous Among the Nations” because of their heroic deeds of kindness in helping Jews during the Holocaust, 70 are Muslims. Their names are preserved along The Avenue of the Righteous at Yad Vashem. Echoing the words of the Qur’an, 5:32 – “and if any one saved a life, it would be as if he saved the whole humanity” – there is a verse from the Jewish mishnah inscribed at Yad Vashem that states, “Whosoever saves a single life, saves an entire universe.” (Mishnah Sanhedrin 4:5, found on the Yad Vashem website. The stories of many of these courageous men and women can be found at the Yad Vashem website and also in Robert Saloff’s book, Among the Righteous: Lost Stories From the Holocaust’s Long Reach into Arab Lands.)

Another remarkable and little known act of kindness and understanding can be found in the work of Khaled Kasab Mahameed, who in 2005 built a Holocaust museum in the city of Nazareth on the West Bank. Mahameed’s story was reported by Tim McGirk in a Time Magazine story on July 8, 2008. The article tells of an Israeli-Arab lawyer named Khaled Kasab Mahameed, who in an effort to try and explain the Israeli wall along the borders of the West Bank by taking his children, took them to the Yad Vashem memorial. He explained that he did this because he realized that his children were not taught about the Holocaust in their history books. In his view, Palestinians can only be successful in achieving their goals if they are able to understand the reality of the Holocaust and the “place that it holds in the Israeli psyche.” To fill this gap in his fellow Arabs’ understanding of the horrors of the Holocaust, Mahameed set up the Arab Institute for Holocaust Research and Education in his hometown of Nazareth. Strongly influenced by the teaching of Mohandas Gandhi, Mahmeed has dedicated his life, often in the face of criticism from his detractors, to achieving peace through the understanding fostered by education.

One final “cup of tea” comes again from a little known incident that occurred in Egypt on January 11, 2011, when a group of Muslims formed a human chain around a Coptic Church as Christians gathered to celebrate Midnight Mass. According to the story, as reported in Egypt’s Al Ahram newspaper, thousands of Muslims gathered to protect the church on Christmas Eve to avoid an attack by extremists on Christians who were attending Mass. They gathered to offer their bodies as “human shields,” and to prevent further atrocities. Such actions are not isolated, but have been emulated on other occasions and in other countries. For example on October 8, 2013, The Huffington Post, as well as other media outlets, reported that on Oct. 6, 200-300 Pakistani Muslims formed a human chain outside a Catholic Church in Lahore to show their solidarity with the victims of a church attack by extremists two weeks earlier.

All of these stories bear an amazing resemblance to the Ashtiname of the Prophet Muhammad fourteen hundred years earlier where he pledged protection to the monks of the Monastery of St. Catherine. They demonstrate in a very powerful and convincing way the lesson my students learned on a rainy November afternoon while visiting a local mosque. The practice of kindness, as simple as sharing a cup of tea, or as dangerous as risking one’s life to protect another, is central to the practice of Islam. As Hamid Vesili, one of the Righteous Muslims honored at Yad Vashem, said in describing the motive for his heroic and courageous action in protecting Jews in Albania: “Our parents were devout Muslims and believed, as we do, that ‘every knock on the door is a blessing from God.’ We never took any money from our Jewish guests. All persons are from God.” Tea anyone?

^[1] This translation by D.S. Margoliouth has been quoted from “The Covenant of the Prophet Muhammad with the Monks of Mount Sinai: Issues of Historicity, Authenticity and Reliability” by Dr. John Andrew Morrow (www.lastprophet.info).

^[2] There are other claims about the original copy that it has been brought to Topkapi Palace in Istanbul.