Los Angeles Times
January 28, 2007
Migrants returning from the Persian Gulf with
stricter views are altering the melting pot
in an Indian province.
Vengara, India - The change came several years
ago for Maryam Arrakal. Her husband brought
a black, all-covering abaya back to this steamy,
subtropical town from the desert sands of Saudi
Arabia.
It contrasted starkly with the pastel saris
she normally wore.
But in the 12 years that her husband, Kunchava,
had been running a Saudi fabric shop, he had
become detached from this melting pot of Muslims,
Hindus and Christians, and more drawn to the
Saudis' strict version of Islam.
"I used to dress much more colorfully,"
said Arrakal, standing amid diesel fumes and
frenetic auto-rickshaw drivers in Vengara's
one-street downtown, a 7-month-old baby in her
arms and a black cloak shrouding her figure.
"But my husband brought this for me and
prefers me to wear it."
The migration to oil-rich Persian Gulf monarchies
of as many as one in five men from India's Kerala
province has brought an influx of money that
pays for food, shelter and education. It also
funds dowries for their daughters and gifts
for their wives.
But like many of the world's millions of economic
migrants, the men bring back more than money.
In this case, they brim with provocative ideas
about the proper way to worship. And they pay
for plain green mosques with minarets and Arabic
writing that are far different than the ornate
and bulbous temples where Muslims have long
worshiped here.
In Kerala, where Muslims are traditionally
the poorest residents, those returning from
the Persian Gulf say they are building pride
in their community and connecting its members
to the broader Islamic world. But others see
the growth of sectarian politics and scattered
religious violence as warning signs.
"Kerala was a place in India known for
communal harmony," said Hameed Chennamangloor,
a writer and former professor of English at
the Government Arts and Science College in Calicut,
the main city in the province's heavily Muslim
north.
Historically, when rioting between Hindus and
Muslims swept through India, Kerala remained
calm.
Now, Chennamangloor said, "There has been
a rise in fundamentalist tendencies among a
certain segment of Muslims."
>From 40 days to 4 hours Trade winds across
the Arabian Sea have carried merchants between
the Persian Gulf and southern India since antiquity.
When they arrived after 40 days at sea, Arab
traders would stow their ships within Kerala's
network of inland waterways.
As the ships were loaded, the traders introduced
local people to new ideas, melding the teachings
of the Koran with local practices.
Over the centuries, Kerala developed a relaxed
mix of cultures and religions. The old mosques
where Muslims worshiped were indistinguishable
from Hindu temples. Muslims, Hindus and Christians
attended one another's ceremonies and festivals.
The region's colorful Sufi-influenced Islam
includes such customs as visits to jungle shrines
and reverence for local saints.
But the weak economy forced many men to leave
to find work. Filmmaker Abbas Pannakal said
his late father boarded a rickety ship in 1970
for a journey to the United Arab Emirates that
took two months and cost the lives of 17 passengers.
"At first only Muslims went," said
Pannakal, who is making a documentary about
Indian-Arab relations. "They were willing
to risk everything because they had so little
to lose."
As successive oil booms caused the Persian
Gulf economy to soar, South Asians started migrating
in droves. Air connections expanded. A trip
to Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, Oman, Bahrain, Qatar
or the United Arab Emirates was whittled to
four hours.
Scholars and government officials in India
estimate that expatriate workers send back at
least $20 billion a year. About 50% of Persian
Gulf migrants from India come from Kerala.
Transforming faith
>From the moment they arrive, migrants from
Kerala are introduced to attitudes unknown at
home. Some housing is for Hindus only; some
employers openly prefer Muslims over Hindus
or Christians.
Some migrant workers are invigorated by living
in a country with a Muslim majority. Others
less enthusiastic about their new home cling
to their faith out of loneliness and a sense
of isolation. But they find a different interpretation
of Islam.
Arrakal's husband, Kunchava, 49, had little
to do in his free time in Saudi Arabia but attend
prayers and read the Koran. He gradually changed
his views about life and faith, including how
his wife dressed.
"In traditional Indian garb, the woman's
stomach is bare," he said. "Islamic
dress covers up all the body parts."
In study groups and at prayer gatherings throughout
the Persian Gulf region, men such as Abdul Rahman
Mohammed Peetee hammer away at Kerala's traditions.
For them, paying homage to local saints or anyone
other than God is sacrilege: The Koran and the
sayings of the prophet Muhammad contain all
that any Muslim needs.
"You must study the Arab culture,"
Peetee, a Kerala native, told a gathering on
the sixth floor of an office tower in Dubai,
United Arab Emirates.
The men howled in protest.
"Some Arabs behave worse than us!"
one cried. "Why should we study them? We
have our own practices and culture."
Peetee, a stout man with a collarless shirt
buttoned to his neck, was relentless.
"These practices are established by society,"
he said. "Not by the Koran."
Religious foundations and wealthy individuals
in countries such as Saudi Arabia also promote
a more rigid version of Islam. Qatar and Saudi
Arabia have government agencies devoted to the
religious lives of Asian expatriates, often
administered by preachers from their own communities.
The Persian Gulf version of Islam fits the
expatriate lifestyle: They can practice their
faith in drab dormitories and on breaks during
long work shifts. And it sanctifies their newfound
riches. The wealth obtained by South Asian Muslims
in the Persian Gulf is interpreted by many as
a reward for service to God.
"Being in the gulf you can see the miracles
of God," said Mohammed Ismayli Olshery
Kalathingal, a Kerala computer specialist at
a Dubai bank. "You can see all the things
here that you can't see in Kerala."
Back home
When it started out 28 years ago, the Markaz
Sunni Cultural Center just east of Calicut was
a tiny orphanage supporting 21 children. It
has grown into an empire, with a complex of
religious schools and colleges educating 10,000
students. Its orphanage is home to 1,700 children.
Indian law requires that the white-clad students
take classes in math, science and religion.
But after school, they fan out across Calicut
proselytizing in favor of an austere version
of Islam.
Though a charity, Markaz has real estate holdings,
including shopping centers and hotels. Each
year it sends 1,000 of its most devout students
to the Persian Gulf region, mostly to work in
Abu Dhabi, in the United Arab Emirates.
Increasingly, new mosques are led by clerics
who trained in the Persian Gulf, though most
are graduates of Indian seminaries.
More wealth has meant that more Kerala Muslims
have the time to pray five times a day and more
can afford a religious education for their children.
The new mosques enforce strict separation of
the sexes.
Impressed by the power of education, many returnees
urge their daughters and sons to attend high
school and college. But to placate their parents,
women raised in conservative families often
must abide by strict Islamic dress codes.
By the 1990s, Kerala clothiers began mass-producing
cheap Persian Gulf-style religious coverings
for women. Now they are worn even at universities.
"What the women wear depends on the trend
in the gulf," said Fazel Kizhekkedath,
a 24-year-old salesman at the Hoorulyn clothing
wholesaler. "Now the trend is the abaya.
Black is the new fashion now."
Men also are being told by religious groups
what to wear. One Islamic organization recently
demanded that Muslim youths stop watching soccer
and wearing T-shirts with team logos.
N.G.S. Narayan, author of the foremost book
on Calicut history, said he came face-to-face
with the new attitude when he tried to conduct
research at an old mosque. Thirty years ago
he was welcome to restore and decipher ancient
tablets. Recently he was turned away; non-Muslims
were no longer allowed.
Once Hindus used to head Muslim organizations
and vice versa. Now Muslim groups urge followers
to keep their children away from Hindu ceremonies.
Muslim Indian scholars of the Deobandi school
have preached similar ideas. But critics say
the latest wave, fueled by Persian Gulf money,
represents an Arab colonization of Kerala.
"I am scared," said one moderate
Muslim newspaper editor, who asked that his
name not be published because it could harm
his community standing. "The liberal Muslims,
the moderate Muslims, are scared."
Identity politics
The religious awakening also has given rise
to a new political assertiveness.
Critics say Muslim organizations have set up
de facto political machines, forcing parties
on the left and right to woo extreme Islamic
groups funded by Persian Gulf riches.
Although it denies any active political involvement,
Markaz and its leader, Kanthapuram Abu Bakr
Musaliar, have become major players in southern
India.
"Now he's a kingmaker," Chennamangloor
said. "He's got a vote bank."
Kerala's elders often boasted that Hindus,
Muslims, Christians and a smattering of smaller
religious groups were Indians first. Religious
identity took a back seat to class interests.
The Communist Party and the conservative Indian
National Congress dominated elections.
During recent ballots in a Muslim enclave near
Calicut, both the Communist Party and conservatives
plastered walls with pictures of Saddam Hussein.
Even before the controversy over his execution,
Hussein's trial had become a cause celebre among
Muslims, largely because of the region's connection
to the Persian Gulf.
"Social life has been politicized,"
Narayan said. "Muslim community organizations
found that they could corner all the Muslim
votes."
Many worry that the status quo has begun to
unravel.
In January 2002 and May 2003, 14 people were
killed in riots between Muslims and Hindus in
Calicut. And in February 2005, suspected Hindu
nationalists attacked a mosque in the town of
Vallikunnam at the end of evening prayers, killing
one and injuring two.
"Muslims themselves are worried by the
rise of the militant Islamic organizations,"
said Ajai Mangat, Calicut correspondent for
the Malayalam Manorama, the province's largest
daily newspaper. "If they become more powerful,
the Hindu nationalists become more powerful."
