Hazrat Shahjalal’s shrine in Sylhet requires no introduction. Residing uncomfortably within the dargah compound, however, is a lesser-known madrasa. Uncomfortably, because Jamia Qasimul Uloom – popularly referred to as Dargah Madrasa – is run by men ideologically opposed to the practice of building and visiting shrines.
The madrasa’s principal Mufti Abul Kalam Zakaria explains his madrasa’s stance: “We venerate pirs and we even maintain contact with them. To maintain contact with a pir simply means to follow his precedent, to try and live one’s life with similar devotion to God.”
Then comes the more perplexing part: “But we don’t believe that one should build a dargah.” Asked how he reconciles his madrasa’s location (and nickname) with his stated beliefs, Mufti Zakaria opines that “even Hazrat Shahjalal wouldn’t have approved of his own dargah.”
Mufti Zakaria represents the mainstream Deobandi view regarding the practice of pir veneration. According to Deobandis, one should study and emulate the lives of saints without celebrating them posthumously.
As an institution, the dargah challenges the Deobandi belief that no grave (not even a pir’s) should be embellished. Those building shrines, Deobandis argue, seek only to make money by practicing and promoting “idolatry.”
That Deobandis and Sufis disagree about the specific manner in which a pir should be venerated is well documented. That this debate should reside and flourish within the dargah’s compound, however, is puzzling to say the very least.
So how did a Deobandi madrasa with views antithetical to the very existence of the dargah become the Dargah Madrasa?
The late Hafiz Maulana Mohammad Akbar Ali founded the Dargah Madrasa in 1961. Going by the accounts of individuals associated with other madrasas in Sylhet, Ali had been a student at Sylhet Alia Madrasa (a government-run madrasa then as it is now) in the 1950s before proceeding to Deoband’s parent institution – Darul Uloom Deoband – in India to pursue the Daura-e-Hadith course.
Ali had close ties to members of the mazar’s managing committee from his time growing up in Sylhet’s Dargah Mohalla, on whom he could rely to secure a role in the dargah complex upon his return from Deoband.
Oblivious to Ali’s ideological reorientation, the unambiguously Sufi men on the mazar committee appointed him as the imam of the Hazrat Shahjalal Mazar Mosque, and subsequently permitted him to establish the Dargah Madrasa.
It was only after the madrasa began running along manifestly Deobandi lines that the men in charge of the mazar distanced themselves from Ali’s affairs.
Today, the Sufi-oriented mazar committee and the Deobandi madrasa committee operate independently of one another despite their shared quarters.
One thing is clear. No matter how one chooses to view this puzzle, Dargah Madrasa’s ideology and location cannot go together. And there are only two ways to resolve this incompatibility.
Either Dargah Madrasa relinquishes its location and nickname by moving to a more fitting site, or it tweaks its ideology in accordance with the customs and practices of its current context.
Since the first possibility hasn’t transpired since 1961, chances are it won’t happen at all. The second route to reconciliation requires Dargah Madrasa to revise its attitude towards the dargah’s everyday practices – not an easy task for an institution that prides itself on ideological consistency.
While nobody should expect it to wholeheartedly embrace Sufi culture, the madrasa can begin by condoning and adopting those practices it considers least objectionable.
Early indications suggest that the madrasa has already begun making piecemeal concessions towards ideological compromise.
“By subduing its Deobandi ideals,” notes one observer, “the madrasa can gain considerably from the goodwill of the shrine’s many visitors.”
Indeed the madrasa agrees, as there are two donation boxes in the dargah compound: one for the mazar and the other for its “reluctant” neighbour.
