the spectacle as commodity = bid'a


dolmabahce cami with inonu stadium behind it


last night while trying to walk off 8 slices of iftar special pizza hut buffet, I snaked down nisantisi and took out my i-pod ear buds when I realized there was a game going on in inonu stadium. I've seen how fun it can be to people watch besiktas fans (one time I saw a mad max gang of them racing down the sahilyolu and then farther along pulling a fenerbahce fan out of his car and threatening to pummel him in front of his fucking kid) doing about anything. Everyone was heading into the stadium in their cute little black and white jerseys and looking pretty pumped to lose to manchester.
Across the street however, drowned under car horns and chants, was the speakers broadcasting the laylat al-qadr ceremonies. (Known as Laylat al-Qadr in Arabic, the Night of Power is traditionally accepted as the night between the 26th and 27th days of Ramadan. It is believed that this night is when the Quran was first revealed to the Prophet Muhammad through the Angel Gabriel. It is, therefore, the most sacred night of the entire year.) It was a wonderful juxtaposition to see the steel bowl stadium bathed in light on one side with thunderous chanting, and the little (in comparison) jack o-lantern mosque with its competing chanting on the other. For a second Islamic practice looked like a humbled sub-culture practiced at the outskirts of european meathead pageantry. Inside the mosque many of the men were wearing besiktas colors and seemed to be hurrying through their rukus in order to get their seats and beers before the game started. It was the first time I've ever been in a mosque during laylat al-qadr and it felt festive and positive and (pardon the wrong terminology, I don't know if it has a special title for laylat al-qadr) the khitabah was very upbeat. After he was done a huge flurry of people got up to leave and he urged them not to with the promise of bringing out a relic. Suddenly a huge crowd swamped the mihrab to get a look at what they pulled out of a little box. Eventually the crown morphed into a line and I was able to catch a glimpse of what looked like a bone covered in a shined piece of circular steel. I asked someone once I got out of the line what it was and he pointed into his mouth "the prophet's tooth". From what I know about i'tikaf this all seemed to be quite un-stoic or contemplative. I'm not begrudging folk religious practices (although I'm within my bounds even(especially) along Islamic lines =
With regard to innovations, they are not permissible during Ramadaan or at other times. It was proven that the Messenger of Allaah (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) said: “Whoever innovates anything in this matter of ours that is not part of it will have it rejected.” According to another report, “Whoever does any action that is not part of this matter of ours will have it rejected.”

We know of no basis for the celebrations that are held during some nights of Ramadaan. The best of guidance is the guidance of Muhammad (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) and the worst of matters are those which are innovated (bid’ah).
) but I couldn't help wondering if using the prophet's supposed molar wasn't some sort of a trump card to use against the other show in town blaring it's anthems so loud it was audible even during the most fervet moments of tarawih. I wonder how far Islam, exposed to spectacle as commodity culture here in Turkey, is from the evangelization of religious practice. Would the wariness of bid'ah be strong enough to protect it from projector screen lyrics and jesus freak bands.
I also stopped into a mosque closer to my apartment in kabatas and inside people were listening to recitations from a group of proud men dressed in suits. Looking from the doorway it looked harshly bathed in light and when I took a seat I couldnt' help but notice that the small crowd was being filmed by a camera crew. They even had a crane camera which swooped over the faithful to get a dynamic shot of the reciter. The cameraman were the long-haired types you'd expect to be cameramen and they seemed out of place among old men wearing skull caps. I imagine it was going to be broadcast on public television live, but couldn't help but take note of the physical as well as emotional/spiritual gaze of the outside world and its technical means bearing down on what should have been an intimate experience.
And being under the weltshauung persuasion that I am, I saw both of these experiences as a reflection of how undeniable culture as commodity has become. It is not that you can have an Islamic practice and then put your shoes back on and walk back out into the society of spectacles. The logic of spectacle, commodification, monopoly rent, technological innovation are so interwoven into the most basic functioning of our daily lives that the ulama' can barely keep up in understanding the dimensions of bid'ah seeping into islamic practice. It's not even at the vulgar level of being able to put in a few rukus for good measure before heading off to the soccer game. The fact that mosques have air conditioners, speaker systems, and resoration projects reflect to what extent they have to conform to the norms of comfort and convenience. That the call to prayer can no longer impose its religious definition of space and community through sound when up against its far more effective sports opponent, that there were more sports jerseys than skull caps, that religious spectacle has a camera crew present, that a cell phone always seems to go off.



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