DUSHANBE, Tajikistan
— The crowd in the airport parking lot was jubilant despite the cold, with
squealing children, busy concession stands and a tangle of idling cars giving
the impression of an eager audience before a rock concert.
But it was
religion, not rock ’n’ roll, that had drawn so many people: the Tajik families
were waiting for their loved ones to land on a flight from Saudi Arabia, where
they had taken part in the
hajj, the annual Muslim pilgrimage to Mecca.
This did not
use to happen. Tajikistan, a Muslim country north of Afghanistan, used to be
part of the Soviet Union. Religion was banned, and any public expression of it,
like prayer or making the hajj, was harshly punished.
A resurgence
of Islam began here almost immediately after independence, in 1991, but years
of civil war kept outward reflections of it, like the hajj, from appearing
much.
Now, though,
expressions of faith are flowering. At least 5,200 citizens of Tajikistan went
on the hajj in 2008, more than 10 times the number who went in 2000, according
to this country’s State Committee on Religion. Religious leaders have become
important community figures, and Islamic political parties are permitted.
That
enthusiasm was thick in the greeting crowd here, one of many that met the more
than a dozen hajj flights in December. A woman whose first name is Marhabo, a
25-year-old mother of three, was waiting in the bitter cold with a 40-member
extended family, most of them children.
“We’re
Muslims,” she said brightly, hugging her small daughter closer to her in the
cold. “Now there’s no limiting. Before, there were no mosques. Now there are
many.”
It was close
to midnight and the children were getting cranky. Marhabo’s sister-in-law
bounced her own daughter, Medina, a small girl in a pink snowsuit, who was
starting to cry.
There were
many Medinas in the crowd, actually, named after another holy city in Saudi
Arabia, in a fad that began here after the Soviet collapse.
The group
was largely segregated, with women in bright scarves standing in clusters with
the children behind the main arrivals area, where the men, some in traditional
velvet robes, waited with camcorders to record the moment of arrival.
One old man
with a long gray beard said he first made the pilgrimage in 1998. It used to be
hard to be a believer here.
A man in his
30s whose first name is Akbar remembered running away from the Soviets when
they caught him praying. His teacher ridiculed him for it, leaving him with a
distinct dislike for school.
“Everyone
was looking at me,” Akbar said. “I felt like a criminal.”
While the
Tajiks’ newfound faith is thrilling for some, it has alarmed others, who worry
that Islam’s popularity, combined with an economic crisis here, could lead to a
surge of fundamentalism or militancy.
More than
half the population lives on less than $2 each a day, and the country is
currently experiencing a reverse industrialization: 77 percent of its
population lives in rural areas, compared with 63 percent in the mid-1980s,
said Khojamakhmad Umarov, a professor at the Institute of Economic Studies
here.
Now, with
migrant Tajik workers, the single largest contributors to the economy, facing
an uncertain future in Russia, experts like Muzaffar Olimov worry that
religious leaders will gain disproportionate power in society and that with the
state education system in collapse, families will turn to religious schools for
their children.
“The mullahs
will make the weather,” said Mr. Olimov, who is director of Sharq, a research
center here. “We have a model: our neighbor Afghanistan.”
But Tajik
society is still strongly Soviet. New Year’s, a holiday celebrated in Soviet
times with a decorated tree and presents, is still cherished, even in observant
Muslim families.
“It’s not a
Muslim holiday, but we like it,” Marhabo said, her small daughter reciting
poetry she had learned in school for the occasion.
Marhabo
talked about the meal they would have when they arrived at their home — a baked
sheep. The government recently issued a rule forbidding families to spend too
much money on weddings and other celebrations, a directive she said they were
observing.
The plane
from Saudi Arabia finally arrived. People threw candies, as if at a wedding,
when they met their loved ones. Marhabo’s father, in a long white robe and a
traditional hat, strode regally into their midst. He was met with an explosion
of kisses.