Religious Revival and Secularism in Post-Soviet Azerbaijan

by Dobrosława Wiktor-Mach

  If someone consciously begins to make namaz, he or she cannot pray only once a week. One must then pray five times a day, otherwise it is a sin. That’s why, if I know that I will not be able to fulfil this requirement, I should not start. It is more proper not to make namaz than to do it occasionally. The same is with hijab. Once you make up your mind to wear it, you are obliged to carry it forever all the days. God understands people and demands from them what they are capable of doing.

  The obligations of Islamic religion are, in her opinion, too tough for her as a student who is too busy with her work and everyday life. Even though there is a mosque near the university, she has lectures during prayer times. In the morning and evening she is too tired for additional duties. Moreover, even though Hafiza finds hijab to be a good way towards God, she does not find it fashionable. Fashion in the eyes of many Azerbaijani female students includes tight clothes, usually jeans or mini-skirts, a careful hairstyle, and strong make-up. It is a fashion shown on the Russian and Turkish TV channels, fashion promoted by actresses and models, one which secular Soviet propaganda preferred over visible religious dress code. But Hafiza expects that her preferences will change and she plans to start her active religious life later when she will be over 40 years old. Similar plans I repeatedly heard from girls in their teens in various places of the Caucasus. Apparently, religious outlook and behavior matches well with older age and more stabilization (family, work, etc.). Such image seems to correspond to the traditional notion of culture, in which older age is associated with prestige, deep knowledge, great respect and more religiosity.

  Another argument Hafiza gives for not engaging yet in religion is her impression that people should get prepared to change religious style. In her social milieu there are too many people who appear pious, but are seen doing things that no Muslim should do. She gave some examples: “I have seen boys and girls [in veils] walking along hand in hand,” “My colleague enjoys boasting about doing namaz. But it is forbidden to talk about it,” or, “There are girls in hijab who eat sausages, but Muslims know that it is haram.” Her conclusion was that, instead of joining a new path in religion, it is better to do it gradually, and take on visible Islamic symbols, such as hijab, only when one is sure about being ready for it. For now, the most important for her is to “be a good Muslim in her heart and towards other people.” A “good Muslim” is not someone who performs namaz, but a person who believes in God and fulfils his commandments: does not drink alcohol, avoids haram food, does not kill, and is a moral person. She is also convinced that her husband must be Muslim (but, as she underlines, definitely not from Iran nor Afghanistan). At the same time, she continues to get new information about the Islamic religion from more knowledgeable peers and teachers. It is not an active process. I have not seen her reading a book on religion, watching religious program nor talking to a religious expert. Sources of religious knowledge for her are pieces of information that flow around, in the classroom, in discussions.

  Her family and close friends have a strong influence on her worldview. With the exception of a few active Muslim friends, most of the people in her social milieu are indifferent to religiosity, and some of them are even suspicious. Wearing a modern hijab is often treated as a symbol of a break-up with one’s kin, especially in villages and smaller cities. It contradicts the existing notions of culture and religion and poses a threat to the social stability. In Azeri society family attachment is very strong and in tough economic times and crises, as it is now, family is seen as one of the most trusted sources of help and support. For young women, such as Hafiza, the danger of being left alone is too real and most do not dare to challenge their family ties. They know that in the case of misfortune, lack of work, divorce, or illness, family is the most trusted institution to turn to for help.

  6.4Choosing among Alternatives

  According to social research and opinions of experts on religion, an increasing number of people in Azerbaijan have recently started to follow a religious path. They reframe their lives to make them consistent with Islamic ideals and formal regulations. One of the challenges they face is to handle the diversity of Islam. As I mentioned earlier, the basic division among Azerbaijani Muslims is neither Shia-Sunni-Sufi, nor traditional-modern. Above all, it is a division between Muslims oriented around religiousness that permeates all spheres of life on the one hand, and secular Muslims oriented around ethnic culture on the other. It is a division between Muslims studying the Koran and the hadiths and their interpretations to look for answers to their everyday questions and Muslims just keeping the Holy Book at home. The first group does namaz every day (or at least regularly), the second prays at special occasions (during life-cycle rituals, shrine visits, etc.).

  Pious traditions, represented by various movements, groups, and leaders signal a drift in the direction of orthodoxy (understood in many ways). Therefore, the first symptom of pluralism noticeable by an average secular Muslim is an appearance of piety and its symbols in the public sphere. The first challenge for those ready to become more religiously observant is not the decision which model to follow but the subordination of the lifestyle to a religious paradigm. This basic division between traditional and pious habitus was underlined by devout Muslims in our conversations and interviews (it was articulated as “theoretical,” “ethnic,” “cultural,” “traditional” versus “practicing,” “religious,” “orthodox,” “real” approach to religion). Pious Muslims acknowledged the dominance of the secular understanding of religion, but pointed to the empirical fact that the religious path they represent is gaining popularity.

  This division has serious social implications. Muslims choosing the Islamic pious way from time to time encounter a feeling of resistance from the secular part of the society. Friends and families are first to judge. I heard such stories from many practicing Muslims, whose close relatives opposed their decision. This contradicts the common rhetoric of Azeris as people tolerant towards different religions. Most Azeri people I met claim to represent the most tolerant society of the world (especially in the Muslim world). I never experienced a sense of distrust or prejudice against my Christian background. I was repeatedly told that differences in religion do not really matter, as we worship the same God and strive to be morally “good” and helpful towards others. People often were hospitable and encouraging. The experiences of “new Muslims,” or converts to Christianity are full of evidence of social pressure and negative attitudes and prejudices. There are cases when a family breaks ties with such a person. Sometimes a family accepts the choice after seeing that religion brings positive changes in one’s life. One Shia girl said that her parents were afraid that a hijab would mean an isolation from the world. They held a stereotype of a veiled women as being subordinate to men in all respects and deprived of free will. They were afraid she would withdraw from life and lose all her ambitions. She was courageous enough to act against her family’s will. And she won. Her parents saw her enthusiasm, engagement in education and social life that followed her choice and stopped with their objections. Religion pushed her towards making a real effort to study. In Islam she heard a call for education and constant improvement. In a veil, as she confessed, she feels more emancipated. A phrase that seems like a paradox for most non-Muslims. When talking to men, she feels more courageous because they do not see her in a sexual context. Her dress and lifestyle act as indicators of her morality. Islam inspires her to take a responsibility for her society. It is a real force pushing her towards charity work and an active social life. For her family these positive changes came as a surprise and made them accept her choice. The arguments they had raised were defeated. But it took time, she needed to prove it, to show every day that a committed Muslim is not a slave of obscurant and ignorant tradition. She, like many other “new Muslims” had to challenge deeply-rooted Soviet-era stereotypes that prevail in society.

  The topic of secular attitudes and responses towards the new pious movements are not widely researched. They are not a
s attractive to analysts as new evidence on fundamentalist groups and their leaders. The quiet majority remains largely unheard. Among the few exceptions there is Pelkmans and McBrien’s (2008) investigation into the strategies employed by the mainstream secular Muslims in Kyrgyzstan. They write about a widespread feeling that the new concepts of religiosity challenge traditional social norms and patterns of behaviors. The danger was coming at the same time from Muslim as well as Christian missionaries who, despite differences, were introducing alternative rules of orthodoxy, religiosity and community. Thus, new Muslim and Christian activists became objects of attack and propaganda of the state and of the secular segment of Kyrgyzstani society.

  The division between the “religious” and the “a-religious” that is widespread across the postsocialist Muslim republics makes both sides critical of each other. The battle of arguments is fierce and intense. Practicing Muslims tend to be critical of those who call themselves Muslims (i. e., the majority), but are ignorant of Islamic religion, meaning the lack of “proper” knowledge, wrong conduct, rejection of dietary rules (mostly, drinking alcohol and eating pork). Besides, pious Muslims criticize the existing cultural system which, in their mind, lack the reference at the core of an ideal Islamic society (i. e., the one that developed in the first centuries of Islam). They see a rupture between an imagined perfect Islamic society and the way Muslim postsocialist societies operate. This problem was summarized by a young Sunni man:

  My friend has been in Western countries. He told me a thought-provoking thing: “In the West I have seen Islam, but not Muslims; in Eastern Muslim countries I see Muslims, but not Islam.”

  For this man, Islam visible in the West means a functioning democracy, no (or little) corruption, a respect for law, scientific progress. In a truly, i. e., not nominally, Islamic society, there is a certain socio-political order governed by the rules and values that were commanded by God. An Islamic path, in the eyes of the young Salafi and many of his colleagues, equals not only to a strict fulfilment of religious rituals, but also to a social change in morality and political culture. Thus, for practicing Muslims the struggle means not only competition with other religious systems of meanings; the struggle also concerns secular and religious norms and values. Islam gives a language to express the dissatisfaction with reality. It provides a utopian vision of a society and state to confront the status quo. It gives hope that a better social order is possible.

  “Market” Choices

  One of the most striking observations for me in Baku was a Muslim discourse of religion as a free market. A market on which people are expected to make a sensible choice, based on their preferences and knowledge. It is not the only discourse concerning pluralism, but it is a popular one. The availability of choices makes it possible for larger groups of people to find “their” religious tradition and, thus, increases the number of people engaged in religion. Transnational religious activists engaged in the struggle for the faithful. Religious campaigns became especially intensive in the early 1990s, when both the “hunger” for spirituality was at an extremely high level, and religious policies of the independent states in the Caucasus and Central Asia were more liberal than at present. Various missionaries passionately promoted their version of religion with all accessible measures and resources. They engaged in polemics with their rivals and worked towards developing a positive image of a religious identity in their tradition.

  The patterns of choices are complex. There are several ways towards particular Islamic traditions. I encountered several people from secular Shiite families who have become Sunni. Some other people coming from ethnic Muslim environment (with little or no awareness of Islamic sects) decided to embrace either the Sunni or Shia form of Islam. There are also cases of Sunni Muslims who started to follow Shiism at some point in their lives. Some of the believers I talked to were raised in mixed families, e. g., grandparents were Sunni and parents Shia, or there was a Jew or a Christian who married a follower of Islam, or some family members were married to a person following another tradition. The only two people who have underlined their Sufi identity had a member of a Sufi ṭarīqa in their families. There is an occurrence of religious people who describe themselves as “semi-Sunni, semi-Shia.” Moreover, there are people who deliberately avoid using any sectarian label, preferring to be called “just Muslims.” However, since their outlook and practices do not resemble the Shia model in any aspect, I classify them as Sunnites. When I was asking people which variant of religion they would like their children to follow, the most common answer was that it is up to children when they grow up. Thus, there is a certain level of open possibilities for people regarding their religious preferences. At least in theory. Even if we reject the rational choice model as not relevant to psychological and social mechanisms of a human being, we can distinguish some historical and geographical contexts, in which a religious change occurs more visibly. Even if we acknowledge the multitude of factors, external and internal, as having an impact on people’s choices, we can see a post-Soviet area as a scene of frequent and widespread religious choices.

  The choices people make concern various elements of religion, usually a tradition, which provides them with some interpretations of a complex Islamic system, a maḏhab, sources of authority, religious symbols, such as Islamic clothes. When I was inquiring about people’s way to a specific tradition, they either replied that they followed the family’s tradition or that they have changed it, but in both cases, they underlined that it was their own choice. The theme of an individual, free, rational choice was recalled by the respondents like a mantra: “Following Sunnism or Shiism is a matter of personal choice,” “People should make up their minds on the basis of knowledge,” “The choice of a Jafari school was my individual, rational choice,” I have heard repeatedly. It was often suggested that personal preferences play a crucial role, e. g., “There is no compulsion in religion; a person follows this form that suits him most,” “A choice is a matter of psychology.” At Islamic University I have also heard more theological justification of a freedom of choice in regard to religion. An Islamic scholar reminded me that there is a hadith about individualism. It says that every person is different, and for that reason there is no strict path to follow. For some people, the final choice was preceded by a study of Islamic religion in general. Others did comparative research analysing pros and cons of each available option. And yet another group of my respondents began to practice Islam at the moment when they encountered people (peers, teachers, etc.) whose religiosity appealed to them. The pious example of a respectful person is a very strong motivating factor. In other cases, people learned about other Islamic options already after having decided to become an active Muslim.

  The motivation to inquire about religion before making a choice was sometimes inspired by a family. Ethnic Muslims with a very limited knowledge of religion are usually suspicious of the pious public expression of religiosity. Stereotypes prevail. When their child starts doing namaz they often become frightened and urge children to study religion thoroughly, so that they can be sure about such a serious choice. Children must prove they understand the duties and obligations that are tied to religious life. They must be able to justify their choice, to give arguments in favour of Islamic religion.

  There is a lot of confusion concerning the choice of a school of law. A variety of statements are being made, some of which contradict each other. There is a group of people who regard difference in maḏhabs as more crucial than between Sunnism, Shiism and Sufism. Their decision to follow a given school of law was preceded by serious reflection and research. Other Muslims follow a particular maḏhab, but treat their choice as their own individual preference. There was a young Muslim who changed his father’s Shafii school for Hanafi, because he regards the latter as less demanding and thus better suiting his current university life. That was his conscious choice. He, like many others, believes that the level of religiosity shall increase with age. Older people, as more respectful, are
expected to be more religious. A great number of people either make use of all legal schools, regarding them as equal, or do not follow any of them. When there is no clear guidance or tradition of following a particular maḏhab, the choice is too difficult for those “new Muslims” without a theological background. They read about all of schools in books and in the Internet but find it hard to compare them: “When I read about the differences between the schools of law I went crazy. Each school has its own arguments and I can’t say that this one is better than others,” one student said. Without a guide, a teacher, a leader the theoretical knowledge is too wide to grasp.

  Why is choosing a religious model so widespread? Most people mentioned the long tradition of tolerance, or, as others put it, “the lack of awareness about religious divides.” Anyway, during communism almost nobody paid attention to differences, as they were reduced to minor ritualistic elements and practiced mainly in a private sphere. Another frequent argument signalled by my informants refers to a characteristic of Islamic doctrine expressed in the citation at the beginning of the book. There is a conviction that diversity is an integral part of Islam.