The ritual of sacrifice

If Abraham had lived in the 21st century, he would have been arrested for attempted murder. He would not have been regarded as pious but schizophrenic.

COMMENT

Sharyn Shufiyan

The Muslim ritual of sacrifice and celebration of Eid al-adha has its roots in the story of Abraham and Ishmael (Or Isaac according to the Bible).

The story goes that it was revealed to Abraham in the form of a dream that God had commanded him to sacrifice his son as a test to his faith. Ishmael was much loved by Abraham and the revelation troubled him so. Nevertheless, it was a command from God Almighty, and Abraham made up his mind to carry out the deed.

Abraham relayed the revelation to Ishmael, and he willing agrees; “Oh my father, do as you are commanded.” (The Bible has it that Isaac was tied-up hence the story is known as the Binding of Isaac).

Abraham had proved his unwavering faith and so the sacrifice was stopped short by God’s angel and a ram was presented in place of Ishmael.

For the Muslims, Abraham was a central religious figure. He is the epitome of unwavering faith – his faith in God is first and foremost and he never questioned God’s commands even as difficult and testing as they may sound.

“Surely Abraham was an example, obedient to Allah, by nature upright, and he was not of the polytheists. He was grateful for Our bounties. We chose him and guided him unto a right path. We gave him good in this world, and in the next he will most surely be among the righteous.” (Qur’an 16:120-121)

The act of a father’s willingness to sacrifice his own son for his love of God is commemorated during Eid al-Adha, the festival of sacrifice, at the end of the Muslim pilgrimage every year.

Muslims around the world sacrifice cattle, goat, sheep or camel and share the meat with family and friends, and donating the rest to the poor and hungry.

If Abraham had lived in the 21st century, he would have been arrested for attempted murder. He would not have been regarded as pious but schizophrenic.

Times have changed since then and we would think the man is of unsound mind if he says he killed his son because God told him so. It’s not so far-fetched; in Bukit Mertajam, a baby girl was suffocated to death because her family members believed she was possessed.

Logic of consciousness

Sarcasm aside, child sacrifices are not a thing of the past. Last year, BBC published a report on child sacrifices taking place in Uganda. Children are kidnapped by witch doctors and sacrificed for prosperity.

Bodies of little children are often found dumped in the bushes, decapitated or chopped up. It was reported that child sacrifice has become a lucrative business as the country’s elite would pay large sums of money for the ritual to be performed.

When we think about human sacrifices, we think of barbarianism as portrayed in the movies. But in reality, they still exist. How can such rituals still be sustained today?

Ranajit Guha in writing about the Santal rebellion against the British in 1855 coined the phrase, ‘logic of consciousness.’ The rebellion leaders, Sidhu and Kanu, when interrogated claimed that their actions were a result of instructions from their god, Thakur.

Their actions were justified as a command from their god. Just because their own logic is not shared with communities outside of their own, does that mean their logic is invalid? Relativists would disagree.

The philosopher Emmanuel Kant wrote that our experiences of the world are mediated through the knowledge and ideas we hold about the world.

Watch Joan of Arc and tell me if her experiences were not similar to the Santals, yet she is a saint for waging war on England while the Santals were rebels.

Too often we judge other beliefs that are not our own or practices that do not float our boat because we do not share them. We could not empathize with them. We could not ascribe to them.

How then, do we manage differences in logic? Could we even attempt to? My answer would be different from yours, simply because my knowledge and ideas of the world have been shaped differently from you. How do we meet then, if we do not compromise one way or another?

The rituals performed during Hajj are symbolic and mostly based on stories of Abraham, Hagar and Ishmael. To the outside eye, these rituals are easy to be misinterpreted, just as rituals by practitioners of other faiths can easily be misinterpreted by Muslims.

Even for Muslims, it does not hurt to be a bit more critical of our rituals; to know why we do certain things and what the story behind this or that particular act is. When it comes to symbolism, we tread on a very fine line yet we seldom realise this.

As an outsider, we may view the sacrifice of a cow as an ancient practice but the idea behind it is not only to commemorate Abraham’s unwavering faith, but also to celebrate the spirit of giving and charity as the meat is then shared with others. Yet there are sensitivities that we need to be mindful of and have the responsibility to protect. It is finding that balance.

As an insider, I am a bit more mindful when it comes to religious rituals as I find similarities in different cultures and revel in the fact that we all have not fallen too far from the tree after all.

Sharyn Shufiyan works for an organisation focusing on environmental sustainability and social stewardship. With a background in social anthropology, she seeks to dissect Malaysian society and culture through writing.