The Dome of the Rock
Early on a Friday morning, we enter the Muslim quarter of old Jerusalem through Damascus Gate. Arab owned shops are opening languidly. Some display images of Mecca and Medina, indicating that the owner has been there on pilgrimage. Sounds and smells of a market place are in the air. Girls in hijab and jeans straddle their young siblings across the hip while mama is out buying vegetables or washing clothes. They stare at us. A group of boys kick a football in the narrow, garbage-infested lane. It bounces across my path, and I hesitate in my step to avoid the missile. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a trio lunge towards me, presumably to grab the array of cameras strung across my neck and shoulder. I side step them and cross into a busy, crowded street and manage to shake them off. From then on, we are on guard.
We make our way along an old crumbling wall towards the most celebrated and famous structure in Jerusalem- the Temple Mount. At the arched entrance to the Temple Mount, Israeli soldiers have set up a check-post. We are asked politely to identify ourselves and state the purpose of the visit. Our bags, cameras and documents are studied, and at the end of the interrogation the Israeli officer talks on his radio to his Arab counterpart on the Temple Mount.
He informs him that a group of visitors is here and ‘you need to verify if they are indeed Muslims.’ An Arab guard arrives with his walkie-talkie and after pleasantries he asks our identity. We tell him we are Muslims and give our names and nationality. He requests my wife Naseem to recite a verse from the Quran and is reassured. Our friend Tanvir who is wearing a hijab is exempted from the interrogation and appears very pleased with her ‘special status’ ‘Marhaba! We don’t see many visitors from Pakistan,’ he remarks and we are waved inside. A shady and winding path leads to another set of archways. Along the inner wall are rows of water faucets where men and women in separate areas perform the wuddu in preparation for the prayers. Elderly women in black hijab are sitting in the shade of a tree, either gossiping in high-pitched voices in Arabic, or reciting from the Quran.
When the fourteenth century legendary Muslim traveller, Ibn Battuta (1304-1369), passed through Jerusalem on his way to Mecca, he found the Dome of Rock to be ‘a building of extraordinary beauty, solidity, elegance and singularity of shape’. The great part, wrote ibn Battuta, ‘is covered so that the eyes of one who gazes on its beauties are dazzled by its brilliance, now glowing like a mass of light, now flashing like lightning’.
The Dome, located on Haram Sharif, the sacred precinct also called the Temple Mount, has maintained that illuminating and sublime beauty. It is enclosed by a stone wall with many gates, many of which are sealed up and have been unused for decades. The Haram, including the Dome and the Masjid al-Aqsa are under the jurisdiction of the Arabs. A committee of local Palestinians manages the affairs of the sacred sites. Unarmed Arab security guards guide the visitors, but the entire area is legally under the control of the omnipresent Israeli security. They stand behind pillars, guns poised, ever-vigilant for the slightest hint of disturbance.
Right next to the Dome of Rock is the Dome of the Chain (Kubbat as-Silsilah), an open miniature of the great dome. It is a cupola supported by pillars with a chain dangling from the center of the ceiling, representing the famous Solomon’s chain of justice from ancient Israel. Legend has it that if an accused were innocent of crime, he would be able to touch the chain, but if guilty, the chain would recoil. Various other functions were attributed to the Kubbat as-Silsilah such as for housing funds and treasures; others said it was for storing incense and perfume intended for the Dome. In 1187, after the Muslims liberated the city, it was used as a sanctuary for private prayers. Arab women were relaxing in the shade of the small dome, while some visitors stop to offer prayers inside the beautiful structure.
There is another miniature dome across the Dome of Chain, the Kubbat-e-Mairaj, which is linked to the Prophet Muhammad’s ‘Night Journey’, Isra and Miraj - his spiritual ascension to heaven. But its relevance to Mairaj is vague. Crusaders once used it as a baptistery. An earthquake destroyed the original Kubbat e-Mairaj, and it was rebuilt in 1200 by the Governor of Jerusalem.
The Dome of the Rock was built by the fifth Umayyad Caliph, Abd al Malik (646-705); and he was determined to see it completed in his life time. He approved a vast treasure for its construction and supervised the plans personally. It was never designed to be a mosque; rather it was visualized as a magnum opus of Islamic architecture. It has no mihrab to orient the worshippers towards the qibla, the direct of Mecca, and no minaret for a muezzin to give the adhan, the call to prayer. The space within is not even large enough to accommodate a congregation. With so many entrances even circumambulation would not be possible within the edifice. Malik entrusted the project to Abul Mikdam, a wise and eminent scholar, and to Yazid ibn Sallam known for his integrity and judgment.
Construction began in 687, and it was completed within four years. It is said that in the final days of its construction, Abul Mikdam and Yazid Ibn Sallam proudly reported to the Caliph that the grand structure was completed well within the allocated funds and that about 100,000 gold dinars remained in the treasury. Abd al Malik replied: ‘Let this then be a gift unto you two for what you have accomplished in building this noble and blessed house’. His loyal architects declined and are reported to have said: ‘First let us add to this amount the ornaments of our women and the superfluity of our wealth and then O! Caliph, spend the whole in what seems best to you’. The Caliph was touched by the dedication of his builders, and he ordered that the remaining gold dinars be melted and used to line the exterior of the Dome. The Caliph often came very early in the morning to admire this masterpiece. The Dome is considered to be one of the most beautiful shrines in the Islamic world and is the earliest work of Islamic art in existence today. The first rays of the rising sun lights up the Dome in a brilliance that could be seen leagues away. To protect the resplendent Dome from the elements, a covering made from animal skin was placed on the Dome every night.
With the completion of this reliquary, the skyline of Jerusalem was dominated by two domes very similar in design; one venerating Islam and the other ennobling the Christian faith. Interestingly, both the Dome of the Rock and the Church of the Holy Sepulcher were built over rocks, which were historically associated with important spiritual events. Christ is said to have been crucified on the Golgotha Rock and from the Rock under the Dome, Prophet Mohammad, it is said, ascended to heaven in Mairaj.
Some people call the Dome of the Rock the ‘Mosque of Umar’, confusing it with the mosque the Caliph built on the Temple Platform fifty years before the Dome of the Rock was made. The original mosque made on Umar’s instructions was a modest wooden structure large enough for a few hundred worshippers. Seventy years later Masjid Al-Aqsa was built on the same site by Caliph Abd al Walid (668-715), son of Abd al Malik.
The Dome is now almost fourteen hundred years old and has seen the vagaries of nature, centuries of wars and occupation by victorious armies. Each event inflicted serious damage to the building. Over centuries the damages were repaired by the succeeding dynasties of Ayyubids, Mamluks and Ottomans who added ornamentations to the Dome according to their own artistic flair. Many Abbasid Caliphs passed through Jerusalem on their way from Baghdad - their new Islamic capital- to Mecca. Al-Mansur (714-775), the founder of Baghdad, Harun al Rashid (763-809) of the Arabian Nights fame and al-Mamun (786-833) whose era is remembered as the ‘Golden Age of Islam’, visited the Dome of the Rock but except for minor repairs and some additions of a few Quranic inscriptions the Abbasid Caliphs made no significant contribution to its structure. Much of the present façade of the Dome was restored in the twentieth century and meticulous care was taken to conform the alterations to the original shape and structure.
The exterior of the Dome is decorated with rich blue tiles and mosaic in geometric and vegetal patterns. In the sixteenth century, the Ottoman Sultan Suleyman the Magnificent commissioned the inscription of Quranic verses on the tiles. One passage reads: O! people of the Book, indeed the Messiah Jesus son of Mary was an envoy of God and His word. He bestowed on her as well, a spirit from him. So believe in God and in His envoys and do not say ‘Three’; desist, it is better for you. For indeed God is one. Another verse, from Surah ‘Ya Sin’ (chapter 36 of the Qur’an), also adorns the exterior. It extols the greatness of Allah and reminds the people of the many bounties ‘He has bestowed on them and that He alone is the protector of that what He creates.’
There are four entrances to the Dome. Gate of Qibla (direction towards Mecca) to the south, gate of Israfael (angel of death) to the east, gate of Sur (trumpet) to the north and gate Bab an Nisa (women) to the west. At one time, these gates were adorned with gold and had cedar wood doors with intricate designs but these were removed in the last century.
If the exterior of the Dome is exquisite, the interior is fascinating. Subdued light filtering through the stained glass windows gives a surrealistic ambience. Men and women can pray both in the Dome and the Al-Aqsa, but traditionally, at prayer time only women are permitted inside the Dome. Men pray outside on the platform or in the Masjid Al-Aqsa. This is probably for logistical reasons as the Dome is smaller and the Al-Aqsa can accommodate 5000 persons. It is peacefully quiet inside except for soft whispers and recitation of the Quran. Men and women relax on plush carpets. Some are reciting the Quran while others are simply meditating. The walls are an artistic display of handicraft in subtle mosaic designs carved in marble. Dark blue columns topped by gilt frieze support the Dome. The ceiling is the ultimate manifestation of art. The entire surface of the cupola is a canvass of geometric designs of multicolored stones in gold and earth tones. On the lower circumference are inscribed verses from the Quran and a special tribute to Salah ad-Din Ayyubi for delivering the Dome from the Christians in 1187.
In the center, just under the cupola, lies the Rock. We peek through the lattice fence to see the giant white rock which is literally the convergence point of Judaism and Islam: this is Mount Moriah, the rock where according to the Old Tesstament Abraham offered to sacrifice his son and where Solomon built the first Temple. Muslims believe that Prophet Mohammad (pbuh) experienced Mairaj from this Rock.
Just below the rock is a narrow stairway leading to a small atrium which opens into a cavern. This is where, tradition has it, that Prophet Muhammad led the earlier prophets in prayers. As we wait our turn to go down, a Palestinian woman shows us a bullet mark on the stairway inflicted by the Israeli military when they stormed the Dome in 1967. Thereafter, the government of Israel returned all Islamic shrines to the Muslims and appointed a waqf of Arab leaders to run their own religious affairs. The security of the entire area would however be the exclusive responsibility of Israel. In the cave under the Rock a marble slab identifies the direction of the qibla. A mihrab is usually a concave space from where the imam leads the prayers. However, this mihrab is a flat marble piece fixed to the wall of the cavern. It was placed there by the Fatimids 200 years after completion of the Dome.
I click my cameras from all angles inside the Dome: the cupola, the pillars, the gold in-lays and stained glass windows. Suddenly an elderly official gestures me to leave as time for Friday prayers approaches. My watch tells me there is still an hour before the adhan. I dig my hands into my pocket and hand him a donation for the Dome. He pockets the shekels and tells me to carry on taking pictures till the prayer call! It is mid-day Friday. The muezzin sounds the adhan. Shutters are lowered in the store-fronts of the Old City as families carrying prayer rugs and picnic lunches enter through the gates around the Temple Mount and stake out shady places under spruce trees. People gather in small and large groups and engage in animated conversation or listen to speakers who are doubtless expounding on some political issue. I head towards the Gate of Qibla and walk down the esplanade to join the congregation of men in Al- Aqsa, while women walk towards the Dome. A funeral procession silently passes through the crowd. After the ritual prayers, there will be a special prayer for the deceased and the entire congregation will seek blessings for the departed.
Friday prayers ended, I saunter over towards the esplanade to meet my wife at the Dome, but I stop in my tracks as I see a mob of young Palestinian men come down my way, waving a Quran in each hand, chanting anti-American slogans. I stand back and watch the horde. Their expression is one of anger as they are protesting against the desecration of the Quran in Guantanamo prison in Cuba. The most vociferous of all is a fiery young speaker who works up the crowd into frenzy. He exhorts the crowd with slogans, and they respond with clenched fists and loud cheers. Protests at Al-Aqsa have the potential to spread like wild fire. As the crowd approaches, I start clicking my camera to capture the scene of the demonstration that is making news across the world via television channels. Just as I begin to compose the photograph of the leader, a hand grabs mine and I am surrounded by angry faces. ‘Who are you? Why are you taking pictures?’ I explain that I am a Muslim traveller from Pakistan, simply curious about the demonstration. ‘Muslim?’ one snarls menacingly. ‘Then recite the kalima’. They discuss among themselves in Arabic. ‘Alright, brother you know, it is dangerous for us to be identified in a photograph. Brother, this is not a normal life for us.’ I understand. At their request, I delete the pictures of the protest march. The protest was planned, and has taken place under the ever-watchful eyes of Israeli vigilantes, their guns cocked, ready to fire at a hint of unruliness. This time they have no cause to shoot. The demonstration simmers down, the crowd disperses and families settle down to their picnic lunches under the trees.
Meanwhile, non-Muslim tourists are waiting nervously for both the prayers and the demonstration to end. They are relieved when it ends peacefully. Their group is here to see the Temple Mount, and they are escorted around the Dome by Israeli guards, while Palestinians make sure they do not enter the Dome.
The skyline of the old city of Jerusalem is crowded with minarets, church spires and towers over synagogues. At night when the city is subdued in darkness the moon and stars drench this sublime house in a shimmering glow.
Citations
This is an edited extract from Iftikhar Salahuddin’s Jerusalem: A Journey Back in Time (Big Bang Communications, Karachi, 2013). The quote from ibn Battuta is from H. A. R. Gibb’s translation of Travels in Asia and Africa, 1325-1354 (R.M. McBride, New York, 1929), page 54. See also Oleg Grabar, The Dome of the Rock (Belknap, Cambridge, Mass., 2006).