RELIGIOUS OBSERVANCES
Apart from the daily prayers there are various feasts which are
celebrated regularly by all good Mohammedans. They do not come at
regular dates as, owing to the fact that the Moslem year is lunar,
all the months begin ten days earlier each year.
In order of rotation these feasts are as follows: Race el Ame,
new year; Aschana, the tenth day of the first month, sometimes
known as the Feast of Moses; those who observe it are promised ten
times of all they have; Makante, or Mouloud, the birth of Mohammed;
Aïd Serrir, which is celebrated at the end of Ramadan or Mohammedan
Lent, and the Aïd el Kebir. The most important are the Aïd Serrir,
or Lesser Feast, in opposition to Aïd el Kebir, the Greater Feast
or Feast of the Sheep. As a matter of fact the Aïd Serrir causes
more rejoicing and lasts three days, probably because it succeeds
the Ramadan.
The austerity of this Ramadan fast has given cause to much
controversy; it is not for us to discuss its merits, but until one
has seen the people actually observing the rites it is difficult
to realize how strictly they are kept. The Ramadan starts the day
after the _mufti_ or _kadi_ in some definite center has seen the
new moon of the season with the naked eye, or, in the event of a
cloudy evening, on the report of some trustworthy person in some
other place. Far away in the South the local _muftis_ or _kadis_
are permitted to judge the moment for themselves, but generally
speaking the fast starts at the same time all over Algeria.
It ends as soon as the next new moon is visible, and sometimes,
owing to bad weather, the inhabitants of a town may fast one or two
days longer than people who live where the night has been clear.
From the moment the decree is sent abroad that the Ramadan has
begun all believers must observe the fast for thirty consecutive
days. During this period they must neither eat nor drink nor smoke
from two hours before the dawn until after sunset.
The time-table on the opposite page published for the Ramadan of
1926, which took place in April, gives some idea of the length of
time passed without nourishment or water:
The decisive moment of the evening is that at which the _imam_ can
no longer distinguish a white hair from a black, held at arm’s
length. A gun is then fired, cries of joy rise from the populace,
and the first meal is hungrily attacked. Those who are out on the
plain pull out a few dates which they munch until they get home.
From the firing of the gun they can eat and drink as much water or
milk as they like until two hours before dawn. As a general rule
they begin with a big dinner. Then they rest, after which they go
out and visit their friends or walk about the streets till midnight,
when they return home and have a second big meal followed by bed. At
first sight this penitence may not seem rigorous. Perhaps not for
those rich men who can convert the night into the day; but to the
average worker it is a terrible ordeal.
Fifteen hours or so with nothing to eat and nothing to drink!
This last privation is especially trying when the Ramadan falls
in the summer months and when consequently the period of fasting
is longer.
What is most astonishing is to see how strictly the rules are
observed, and even those who in ordinary times take wines and
spirits are not only completely sober for thirty days, but do not
touch any intoxicant for some weeks before the fast begins. Some men
suffer physically a good deal and their faces become pinched; others
who are heavy smokers develop jumpy nerves. Almost all become bad
tempered and easily offended and they work as little as possible,
their only incentive to do anything being the necessity to have
liquid cash to purchase their new clothes for the feast of the last
day. Even this does not rouse them much, and they usually end by
selling some of their household goods or their wives’ jewels to
supply the necessary funds. It is a great time for the Jews and rich
Arab merchants, who buy up all they can at low prices to resell to
the tourists.
[Illustration: calendar]
If by any chance the fast is not observed according to letter it
does not count, and it must be caught up after the Ramadan. For
instance, during this period a man may not touch his wife; if he
sees a woman and she creates in his mind any sort of emotion, it is
sufficient for the day’s fast to be considered as unaccomplished.
If he touches the palm of a woman’s hand, he can not go to the
mosque until he has washed all over. All is a matter of conscience,
and it would be quite easy for any one to retire to the privacy of
his room and eat a piece of bread or drink some water; no one would
be any the wiser, but it is a certain fact that it is not done.
Those few who do not observe the fast are thoroughly despised.
When the next new moon has been observed a final gun is fired and the
people rise early in the morning dressed in their new clothes to go
to the mosque. The Grande Prière takes place in all its solemnity,
and for an hour robed figures bow and prostrate themselves in regular
cadence. When it is over every one streams into the street and hand
in hand marches leisurely up and down the main ways. As friends or
relations meet the brotherly kiss is exchanged; jokes are passed
and gaiety reigns supreme.
The girls from the Quarter come out in all the gaudiness of their
multi-colored clothes; their jewels glint in the sunlight contrasting
with the white burnouses of the men.
At eleven the _muezzin_ calls to prayer from the minaret; the more
conscientious return to the mosque before the first midday meal
since the Ramadan moon.
The poorest household has scraped together enough to have something
extra to eat, and among the rich the meal is interminable. In the
afternoon every one is out again wandering hand in hand through
gardens and alleys, or sitting under the palm trees chatting and
smoking—chiefly smoking. Toward dusk the city takes on another
aspect. In the reserved quarter the streets are thronged with
soldiers and nomads; the strident skirl of the _raïta_ with the
beat of the _tam-tam_, and the dances, which have practically ceased
during the fast, rebegin. It is a gay spectacle, and it makes one
realize the joys of forbidden fruits.
In the European quarter too the younger renegades are flocking,
consuming excessive quantities of forbidden wine and beer. As the
night draws on, voices are raised, some in laughter, some in song,
others in anger, and it is rare for the feast to pass without several
nasty knife wounds, while broken heads are numerous. After all,
the fast has lasted long enough, the Ramadan must be celebrated,
and he who can not contain his emotions must suffer the quick flash
of the dagger or the clenched fist of the followers of the Prophet
liberated from the fast.
The Aïd el Kebir, which is the great feast of the year, falls two
months later. On this day every one who can afford it is supposed
to kill a sheep and divide it among the family. Those who are very
rich kill several sheep and give them to those who can not afford
it. The belief is that when the soul goes to enter paradise it
will have to follow a narrow path which consists of a razor-like
blade. The soul whose mortal self has killed many sheep will be met
by the slaughtered ones, who apparently have no thought of reprisals,
and will be carried across the knives. The gratitude of the sheep
seems a little unexpected.
The other feasts, such as the Birth of the Prophet, New Year’s
Day, the Aschana, are not observed with any great feasting. Candles
are lit in the mosques, the Grande Prière is said collectively,
and a little more food than usual is eaten.
Quite apart from the orthodox or dissenting religious observances
associated with the mosque, there are other rites, which are really
private affairs, observed by independent groups of men who venerate
some particular saint. They are really little clubs, and though all
its members are strict Mohammedans belonging to one of the sects,
believing in all the prophets, they are very proud of the particular
saint whom they venerate.
There are the followers of Sidi Abd-el-Kader, the great _marabout_,
second only to the Prophet; of Sidi-el-Hadj-Aïssa, who founded
Laghouat; of Sidi Abd er Rahmane, patron of Algiers, and many
others. Twice a week these members of the clubs meet, either in the
private mosque dedicated to the _marabout_, or, if it is fine, before
the edifice erected in his name out-of-doors. Here they drink tea,
which is either provided by themselves or is often sent by people
of the town who wish to find grace in the eyes of the saint.
The men sit round in a circle and sing religious songs in unison
while the time is kept by a man with a tambourine. On a clear
moonlight night it is a most impressive sight to see the earnest
faces of the singers as they sit rigidly intoning the long verses
of the chant, which is repeated in a chorus, rising finally into a
wild rhythm until it stops suddenly and unexpectedly. Visitors are
rare on these evenings, and they sit apart with their shoes off;
women occasionally come, but they are heavily veiled and are hidden
away in a corner.
The actual tombs of _marabouts_ are much venerated, as are also
the little domes erected at places where some holy man has rested;
candles are lit and offerings made in their names. Though actual
sacrificing of beasts does not take place in the way in which we
associate it in the Old Testament, there are many who vow that if
they are granted some favor they will kill a sheep in the name of
the _marabout_ invoked. When the sheep is killed it is cooked and
eaten by the supplicant and by any poor friends who like to come
in. Occasionally a bullock is slaughtered to bring rain.
There are other beliefs which would be considered by Europeans
to be mere superstitions, but they so form part of the religion
that practically every one admits them,—the power of spells,
the evil eye, the charms against disease. A woman with a headache
will wear a piece of paper with words written by a _marabout_
upon it, and believe that it will remove the pain. In fact, into
all the daily life religion is woven until it becomes part of the
people’s existence, and from the prayer said in public to the
abstinence from wine one can not keep away from it. Its simplicity,
its absence of all unnecessary intermediaries in communion with
the Almighty, make it very easy to follow. Its laws which, with
all their sternness, are yet adapted to the frailty of mankind,
seem to give one an assurance of its sincerity. Its recognition of
all the prophets we know of gives it a feeling of broad-mindedness,
and the picture of its future is easy to grasp.
There is one God and He is alone. God is all-powerful. “What He
has destined will take place,” and in their belief of the _mektoub_
the secret of the Arabs’ peace of mind is found. Nothing can alter
fate. And if things go wrong it is no good saying, “If I had done
this, or done that, I should have avoided this.” No; “Allah
willed it, and the puny human can do nothing against _mektoub_.”