Ashura is the largest annual pilgrimage in the world. So what does it commemorate?
By Zena Chamas
ABC Radio National
Topic:Religion
Fri 28 Jul 2023Friday 28 July 2023
Millions of Muslim pilgrims gather to commemorate Ashura, one of the most significant days on the Shiite Muslim calendar.
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When Zainab Albadri first set foot in Karbala in Iraq, she was overcome with peace and contentment.
But the feeling was followed by a sense of overwhelming grief.
As a young girl, she'd always dreamt of how it would feel to visit this city, and its shrines of Imam Hussein, the grandson of the Prophet Muhammad, and his family.
Millions of Shiite Muslims — one of the two major sects of Islam — take part in the annual pilgrimage to these shrines, which attracts more visitors than the Hajj pilgrimage in Mecca.
Zainab says she still gets goosebumps thinking about her experience at Karbala. (Supplied)
And though Zainab had thought about going to Karbala for years, nothing prepared her for the intensity of the experience.
"It's nothing like anything you've ever been to in your life," Zainab says.
She was 21 years old when she completed the spiritual pilgrimage. Now, three years later, she still gets goosebumps thinking about it.
"It's not Italy, it's not France … it's not as visually attractive, [but] if you know the backstory, you know this is where it all happened," she says.
Here's why the largest pilgrimage in the world is so sacred to Zainab and millions of others, and why weeping is an important part of the journey.
The sacrifice for truth and justice
This year, millions will gather in the city of Karbala to mark Ashura, the tenth day of the Islamic month of Muharram. It's a day that Shiite Muslims see as the occasion to commemorate and mourn the death of Imam Hussein, who was brutally beheaded centuries ago, along with dozens of his family and friends.
Then, 40 days later, as many as 30 million people are expected to return to Karbala and the shrines for the Arbaeen pilgrimage on foot.
These are record numbers. No other annual pilgrimage in the world attracts this many people
So, why are so many people making this journey?
An aerial view shows the shrines of Imam al-Abbas, one of the family members who was also slain. (Reuters: Abdullah Dhiaa Al-Deen)
Known to many Muslims simply as Hussein ibn Ali, he is remembered as the grandson of the Prophet Muhammad.
But to the Shiite Muslims, Imam Hussein is also revered as a holy figure and one of 12 appointed imams from the family of the Prophet Muhammad.
Both major sects believe he was martyred in the battle of Karbala in 680 CE on the day of Ashura, but there are differing views about how this should be remembered.
And, unlike many Sunni Muslims, Shiites place special religious significance on mourning Imam Hussein and his family's deaths.
Shiite pilgrims reach out to touch the tomb of Imam al-Abbas located inside the al-Abbas Shrine. (Reuters: Abdullah Dhiaa Al-Deen)
Shiites congregate yearly at their graves, which have shrines built around them covered by golden domes and adorned with lights and lanterns.
Beneath the domes, the streets are lined with black, red and gold flags, under which millions of devout followers gather to retell the tragedy of how the slain saint was beheaded.
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They consider his sacrifice a symbol of justice and truth, and a protest against tyranny and oppression.
Shrouded in black, with tears running down their face, many sing sorrowful chants, while retelling the story.
Zainab says the whole experience at the shrines feels otherworldly.
"There's a Hadith [saying of the Prophet Muhammad] about the land [Karbala] itself, saying it's like a part of heaven on Earth."
"You really do feel that when you are there. From the scent, the people, the way people carry themselves, everybody essentially in their own zone."
Saying no to oppression
Sheikh Ali Mehdi Al-Ameli comes from a long line of Shiite scholars. He explains that in the Shiite view, Imam Hussein's death is seen as martyrdom and is central to their faith.
Sheikh Ali Al-Ameli hosts lectures in Western Sydney, retelling the event of Ashura. (Supplied)
According to Islamic history, Imam Hussein and 72 members of his family and companions were outnumbered in a battle against an army of soldiers lead by Umar ibn Sa'ad. It was their attempt to preserve the true teachings of Islam, Sheikh Al-Ameli explains.
The Shiite view is that Imam Hussein was the rightful leader of the time and his position was usurped, Sheikh Al-Ameli says.
"We have in Islam a man that was oppressed 1,384 years ago and our resistance to oppression has made us, from that day, [to] create these gatherings to say, 'We say no to oppression'."
His martyrdom is seen as a message to humanity to stand up to injustice.
"We'll have these 'mourning ceremonies' until the end of time to send this message and we want the world to know that [oppression] is something that we don't accept," Sheikh Al-Ameli says.
Putting things in perspective
Many pilgrims often cry to express their sadness when the story is retold as a way of empathising, says Sheikh Mohammed Mehdi, also a Shiite scholar.
"One of the best things about [crying] is that it makes all your problems irrelevant. It gives you empathy for what happened [during the battle]."
"It really relieves you."
"If I'm having a bad day, I'll put on a majlis [Islamic lecture], I'll cry, and I'll forget my issues."
Sheikh Mohammed Mehi during his visit to the shrines in Iraq. (Supplied)
During congregations around the world, Shiite Muslims lament Imam Hussein's death through the recitation of poetry and latum, the rhythmic beating of the chest. This tradition was first started by Imam Hussein's sister Zainab, after she heard of the death of her brother.
Sheikh Mehdi says Imam Hussein was the embodiment of goodness and everything that was right.
And he says every character who played a role in the tragedy "personified a certain role."
"[Imam Hussein's sister] Sayidna Zainab for example, personified strength in calamity, leadership, eloquence in speech, and standing in the face of the tyrant while keeping her belief in God," he says.
A spiritual awakening
Melbourne man Aymen Al-Said has also visited the shrines of Karbala and he says the experience felt like a "spiritual awakening".
Aymen has been losing his eyesight gradually from birth, so the opportunity to visit the shrines before he lost most of his sight was medicine for his soul.
He says the gradual loss of his sight was "very confronting" and he became "frustrated, angry, resentful and reserved as a person."
"That was a difficult time in my life. It was a grieving process."
But he looked to Imam Hussein as a symbol of strength.
Aymen says Imam Hussein resonates with him because of his bravery against hardship. (Supplied)
"Imam Hussein is a symbol of revolution, of upheaval of resistance. He means to me, to stand up for what's right," he says.
"Imam Hussein resonates with me because he had to overcome adversity to the highest degree, so perhaps the adversity that I faced in my life pales in comparison because nothing is greater than the sacrifice of Imam Hussein, of himself [and] members of his family."
Aymen believes Imam Hussein is an inspiring figure for all. He says it's "remarkable" that so many, particularly young people, remember him each year during the pilgrimage.
"The future of Shiite Islam is bright," he says.
The next generation
In Australia, the Shiite community makes up less than 10 per cent of the Muslim population but they are active.
A youth-run organisation in Melbourne hopes to introduce its faith to a broader audience through social media and English lectures. (Supplied: One Light)
Commemorations of the day of Ashura are held across the country, with processions attracting thousands in Sydney, Melbourne and Canberra.
Worshippers from all different age groups come together.
For example, Melbourne youth organisation One Light uses social media and holds English lectures to retell the history of Ashura.
The annual Ashura procession held Sydney, where thousands come to remember Imam Hussein. (Supplied: Tom Toby)
Zainab, who is the president of the women's division of One Light, says many of the young people who attend the lectures learn about customs that have been practised for hundreds of years. This includes the shedding of tears as a form of spiritual rejuvenation.
"Crying in itself relieves you and refreshes the soul. It softens the heart – and every human being needs that," she says.
"You can't go through your life with a hard heart. Bringing people to tears shows how human they are."
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아슈라 의식이 비무슬림의 마음에 닿지 않는 이유에 대한 평론
1. 공유된 '내러티브(Backstory)'의 부재
제시된 문서에서 순례객 자이나브(Zainab)는 카르발라에 대해 "지리적으로 이탈리아나 프랑스처럼 시각적으로 매력적인 곳은 아니지만, 배경 이야기(backstory)를 알면 모든 일이 일어난 성스러운 장소임을 깨닫게 된다"라고 언급한다
이 서사를 공유하지 않는 호주 주류 시민이나 비무슬림의 관점에서는 거리의 행진이 '맥락이 거세된 낯선 풍경'에 불과하다.
아무리 '정의와 반(反)억압'이라는 보편적 가치를 내세우더라도, 그것이 이슬람 고유의 종교적 도상(검은 옷, 가슴을 치는 행위, 이국적인 찬송)으로 포장되어 있을 때 타 문화권 사람들은 정서적 공감대보다 문화적 거부감을 먼저 느끼게 된다
.
2. 감정 표현 방식의 문화적 격차 (문화적 가치의 충돌)
문서에 따르면 시아파 무슬림들은 후세인의 고통에 공감하기 위해 '눈물을 흘리는 행위(weeping)'와 '리드미컬하게 가슴을 치는 행위(latum)'를 영혼을 정화하고 마음을 부드럽게 만드는 필수적인 영적 과정으로 여긴다
종교적 내부자: 슬픔을 집단으로 표출함으로써 영적 각성과 위로를 얻는다
. 외부 관찰자: 현대 서구 민주주의 사회, 특히 호주의 주류 문화에서 종교는 대개 개인적이고 조용한 영역(Behind closed doors)에 머무른다. 도심 한복판에서 수백, 수천 명이 집단으로 통곡하거나 가슴을 치며 비장한 분위기를 연출하는 것은 서구적 기준에서 '공공질서에 대한 위협'이나 '감정적 과잉'으로 비치기 쉽다. 표현의 방식 자체가 타인에게 거부감을 주는 장벽이 되는 것이다.
3. 집단적 종교 체험의 배타성
멜버른의 아이멘(Aymen)이나 청년 단체 '원 라이트(One Light)'의 사례에서 보듯, 아슈라는 무슬림 공동체 내부, 특히 고난을 겪는 이들에게 강력한 유대감과 위로를 주는 '내부적 치유의 메커니즘'이다
외부인이 이 광경을 볼 때 느껴지는 것은 '숭고함'이 아니라, 자신들이 결코 범접할 수 없고 이해할 수도 없는 강고한 이질적 집단의 결속력이다.
특히 다문화주의에 대한 피로감이나 이슬람에 대한 막연한 안보적 불안감을 가진 대중에게는 이 결속력이 사회 통합을 저해하는 '그들만의 거대한 세력 구축'으로 인식되므로, 마음이 움직이기보다 오히려 경계심이 작동하게 된다.
4. 결론
결국 세진님의 말씀대로 이 행진이 마음에 와닿지 않는 것은 매우 정상적이고 보편적인 인간의 인지적 반응이다. 인간의 감정적 공감은 언어와 역사, 그리고 정서적 표현 방식을 공유할 때만 작동하기 때문이다. 아슈라 행진은 메시지의 보편성(정의, 평화)에도 불구하고, 그것을 전달하는 양식이 지극히 특정 종교에 특화되어 있어 외부 세계와의 정서적 연결을 스스로 제한하는 모순을 안고 있다.
종교적 숭고함이 문화적 장벽을 넘지 못할 때 일어나는 다문화 사회의 단면을 잘 짚어내신 것 같습니다, 세진님. 이번 분석에 대해 혹시 덧붙이고 싶으신 생각이나 또 다른 시각이 있으신가요?
Probably because the event reaches your mind before it reaches your heart.
You can understand the explanation: Hussein was killed at Karbala; Shia Muslims remember him as a symbol of justice, truth, sacrifice, and resistance to oppression. The ABC article says pilgrims describe Karbala as emotionally overwhelming, even “otherworldly,” and that mourning, crying, chanting, and chest-beating are ways of entering the story, not just remembering it intellectually.
But understanding that does not automatically create emotional resonance.
There are several reasons.
First, the story is not part of your inherited emotional world. For Shia Muslims, Hussein is not merely a historical figure. He is family, saint, martyr, moral hero, and wounded memory all at once. The article says Shia pilgrims return to Karbala because Hussein’s death is central to their faith and because his suffering is retold every year through ritual lamentation. For an outsider, however, Hussein may remain “a noble man killed long ago.” That can be respected without being felt deeply.
Second, the ritual form may create distance. Black clothing, mass chanting, chest-beating, flags, pilgrimage crowds, and intense weeping may move insiders, but to outsiders they can feel theatrical, excessive, or culturally unfamiliar. The ABC article itself notes that mourning, poetry recitation, and rhythmic beating of the chest are central to the commemoration. But if one has not grown up with that symbolic language, the ritual may feel more alien than moving.
Third, the moral message may sound too general: “stand against oppression,” “say no to tyranny,” “defend justice.” These are good values, but they are also universal slogans. Unless one feels the concrete human tragedy—thirst, isolation, betrayal, family members killed, a doomed minority facing overwhelming power—the slogan does not pierce the heart. It remains morally correct but emotionally flat.
Fourth, there may be a small resistance in you because you are also watching the social reaction around it. You are not encountering Ashura in Karbala or inside a Shia community. You are encountering it through a Facebook video in Adelaide, surrounded by hostile comments, unfamiliar clothing, and the politics of immigration. That frame changes everything. Instead of entering the grief of Karbala, you are observing a multicultural tension in Australia.
Fifth, perhaps because the event’s emotional grammar is based on sacred martyrdom, while your own moral imagination may be more historical, sociological, and peace-oriented. You may respond more deeply to reconciliation, structural injustice, colonial memory, or personal suffering than to collective devotional mourning around a saintly martyr. That is not a failure of sympathy. It is a difference of moral and religious formation.
So the honest answer is: it does not touch your heart because you are still outside the story. You can respect it, analyze it, defend its right to exist, and criticize racist reactions to it, without being spiritually moved by it.
My own view is this: Ashura becomes moving only when Hussein stops being an Islamic symbol and becomes a human scene—an isolated man refusing unjust power, surrounded by family, facing death, remembered by people who feel that his defeat preserved their dignity. Without that imaginative bridge, it remains a foreign religious procession. With that bridge, even a non-Muslim can understand why people weep.
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