The Hajj in the times of a pandemic, past and present

July 30, 2020 – As we enter the Islamic month of Zul Hijja, pilgrims would normally be already on the shores of Saudi Arabia for the Hajj, the journey of a lifetime. Etched in my childhood memory by the Egyptian folkloric tales of my grand-mother, are the exhilaration of the adventure, and the dread of a previous plague, the cholera. Whereas, the pandemic caused by COVID-19 shocked most of us, it reminded me of a déjà vu, albeit in another place, at another time.

“Since the dawn of Islam, it has set in motion a flood of travellers across the world’s continents, moving in a common Faith toward a unique goal.”

The Hajj, the pilgrimage to the holy places in and around Mecca, is one of the five pillars of Islam, incumbent on every Muslim adult man or woman, physically and financially able to perform it. Since the dawn of Islam, it has set in motion a flood of travellers across the world’s continents, moving in a common Faith toward a unique goal.  With the first reliable statistics beginning to be kept in the nineteenth century, a definite profile emerged. A large number of pilgrims were indigent or arrived in Mecca enfeebled by age or the arduous journey. A most vulnerable congregation in times of a pandemic.

Soon after I received my papers allowing me to immigrate to Canada, I decided that I will go for the Hajj. This was one of the best decisions I made in my life, if not the best. The trip was affordable and lasted less than two hours by plane. I managed to save the entire cost of the trip out of my scholarship and my pocket money. At that time, I paid about L.E.350, the equivalent of $700 US. Today, a comparable Hajj package would cost more than $5000 US.

And if there would be health hazards involved, then better brave them while I was fit and strong. Needless to say, I felt immune, just like young people today who refuse to wear masks. In his book ‘The Hajj’, F.E. Peters gives a detailed account of the origin and evolution of cholera in the Hijaz, the geographic location of what is now known as Saudi Arabia.

Though long present in India, the first appearance of cholera was recorded in Mecca in 1831. The Ottomans, who then controlled the Hijaz, attempted to address the problem and its grave effects as best they could. In 1847 France, concerned by the spread of the disease to its colonies, established a network of medécins sanitaires connected to its consulates in the chief cities of the Near East: Beirut, Damascus, Alexandria, Cairo then Suez, Teheran, and Smyrna/Izmir.

In 1865 a major epidemic struck the Hijaz. It originated in Java and Singapore and was carried to Mecca by pilgrims, one-third of whom perished during the pilgrimage. By the time the Hajj was over 15,000 of an estimated 90,000 pilgrims died of cholera. That was in May. In June, the disease was raging in Alexandria where 60,000 Egyptians lost their lives in three months.  Later that same month cholera was reported in Marseilles, spread to most cities of Europe and reached New York City in November 1865.

At French urging, an international conference was convoked and representatives of seventeen nations met in Constantinople in February 1866.

They recommended that quarantine station be set up at Tur in the Sinai and Wajh in the Hijaz, and eventually one on Qamaran Island at the southern end of the Red Sea. They strongly urged the Ottoman Empire to institute criminal proceedings against anyone who gave false information to the health authorities.

They prescribed that the number of pilgrims going to Mecca be limited and that their ‘quality’ be improved by requiring a ‘means test’. The Egyptian Quarantine Board required that all departing pilgrims show proof of both health and adequate financial resources. The numbers of passengers abroad ship was strictly regulated and all ships arriving from the east had to undergo an obligatory fifteen-day quarantine.

If the object of these measures was to shield Egypt and Europe from infection carried by returning pilgrims, they were apparently a success. Cholera continued to rage throughout the east, but the last of the great plague years connected with the Hajj was 1912, thereafter epidemic cholera disappeared from the Hijaz.

Still the Egyptian Quarantine Board maintained its restrictions. As late as the mid 1970s, upon my return from the Hajj with my parents, we had to spend the mandatory quarantine. I still remember vividly the boredom of these two weeks.  The building was a low rise near Cairo domestic airport. The accommodations were spartan and the food absolutely bland, with no provision for ordering or buying supplements from a canteen. The isolation from the outside world was comprehensive and absolute, except for the daily Al-Ahram. The only merit of this government mouthpiece was, still is, that it is the official source of obituaries. There might have been one telephone line in the building but definitely no TV.

My uncle, who was a prominent physician escaped after two days. The official accepted version was that he was indispensable at the Kasr El-Eini hospital, the main public hospital in Cairo. Could well be true. I suspect that having high placed friends in the Health Ministry easily paved his way out.

The specter of the quarantine may well revisit pilgrims. It is impossible to maintain a safe distance since the rituals require all of worshippers to be present at the same place, within a narrow timeframe. In 2019, there were 2,489,406 pilgrims coming from 189 countries. Because of COVID-19, the Saudi authorities are only allowing those residing within the kingdom to travel to Mecca and a limit of 10,000 is rumoured.

Henceforth, the Hajj will surely undergo drastic changes that will be the tales recounted to future generations. And ultimately, the potency of COVID-19 like the cholera epidemic will be neutralized, Insha Allah.

Samaa Elibyari is the Secretary of the Canadian Council of Muslim Women-Montreal. She is also an organizing member of Muslim Awareness Week 2020.