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Main
News; Foreign Desk
THE
WORLD; Bringing home a new Islam; Migrants returning from the Persian Gulf =
with
stricter views are altering the melting pot in an Indian province. <=
/b>
Borzou
Daragahi
Times
Staff Writer
1887
words
28
January 2007
Home
Edition
A-1
English
Copyright
2007 The Los Angeles Times
For The Record; L=
os
Angeles Times Thursday February 01, 2007 Home Edition Main News Part A Page=
2
National Desk 0 inches; 22 words Type of Material: Correction; Kerala: An
article in Sunday's Section A referred to Kerala as a province of India. The
regional governments in India are states.
VENGARA, INDIA
The change came
several years ago for Maryam Arrakal. Her husband brought a black, all-cove=
ring
abaya back to this steamy, subtropical town from the desert sands of Saudi
Arabia.
It contrasted sta=
rkly
with the pastel saris she normally wore.
But in the 12 yea=
rs
that her husband, Kunchava, had been running a Saudi fabric shop, he had be=
come
detached from this melting pot of Muslims, Hindus and Christians, and more
drawn to the Saudis' strict version of Islam.
"I used to d=
ress
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 husba=
nd
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 wi=
ves.
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 f=
or
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. <= o:p>
Historically, when
rioting between Hindus and Muslims swept through India, Kerala remained cal=
m.
Now, Chennamanglo=
or
said, "There has been a rise in fundamentalist tendencies among a cert=
ain
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 teach=
ings
of the Koran with local practices.
Over the centurie=
s,
Kerala developed a relaxed mix of cultures and religions. The old mosques w=
here
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 econ=
omy
forced many men to leave to find work. Filmmaker Abbas Pannakal said his la=
te
father boarded a rickety ship in 1970 for a journey to the United Arab Emir=
ates
that took two months and cost the lives of 17 passengers.
"At first on=
ly
Muslims went," said Pannakal, who is making a documentary about
Indian-Arab relations. "They were willing to risk everything because t=
hey
had so little to lose."
As successive oil
booms caused the Persian Gulf economy to soar, South Asians started migrati=
ng
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 fait=
h
From the moment t=
hey
arrive, migrants from Kerala are introduced to attitudes unknown at home. S=
ome
housing is for Hindus only; some employers openly prefer Muslims over Hindu=
s or
Christians.
Some migrant work=
ers
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 an=
d 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 traditio=
nal
Indian garb, the woman's stomach is bare," he said. "Islamic dress
covers up all the body parts."
In study groups a=
nd
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 st=
udy
the Arab culture," Peetee, a Kerala native, told a gathering on the si=
xth
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 h=
ave
our own practices and culture."
Peetee, a stout m=
an
with a collarless shirt buttoned to his neck, was relentless.
"These pract=
ices
are established by society," he said. "Not by the Koran."
Religious foundat=
ions
and wealthy individuals in countries such as Saudi Arabia also promote a mo=
re
rigid version of Islam. Qatar and Saudi Arabia have government agencies dev=
oted
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 fai=
th
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 o=
ut
28 years ago, the Markaz Sunni Cultural Center just east of Calicut was a t=
iny
orphanage supporting 21 children. It has grown into an empire, with a compl=
ex
of religious schools and colleges educating 10,000 students. Its orphanage =
is
home to 1,700 children.
Indian law requir=
es
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 aust=
ere
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 m=
eant
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 st=
rict
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 conservat=
ive
families often must abide by strict Islamic dress codes.
By the 1990s, Ker=
ala
clothiers began mass-producing cheap Persian Gulf-style religious coverings=
for
women. Now they are worn even at universities.
"What the wo=
men
wear depends on the trend in the gulf," said Fazel Kizhekkedath, a
24-year-old salesman at the Hoorulyn clothing wholesaler. "Now the tre=
nd
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 w=
ith
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 ke=
ep
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 colonizat=
ion
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. "T=
he
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 t=
he
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 Ba=
kr
Musaliar, have become major players in southern India.
"Now he's a
kingmaker," Chennamangloor said. "He's got a vote bank."
Kerala's elders o=
ften
boasted that Hindus, Muslims, Christians and a smattering of smaller religi=
ous
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 bal=
lots
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 Muslim=
s, 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 t=
he
status quo has begun to unravel.
In January 2002 a=
nd
May 2003, 14 people were killed in riots between Muslims and Hindus in Cali=
cut.
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,&q=
uot;
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."
daragahi@latimes.=
com
Daragahi recently=
was
on assignment in southern India.